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The Lebanon Craft Corner was a general graft and art store that specialised in fibre arts, and it was not usually busy. Lebanon was a small town to begin with, and most of the residents didn’t fall into the store’s expected demographic. But still, they did okay.
Juliet had worked in the store since high school, first part time, then moving to full time when she graduated. A lot of her classmates had fled the town as soon as they were able, feeling trapped and stifled by the small, sleepy streets. But Juliet was content. She could knit and read and listen to music, and most of the time she didn’t even have to interact with anyone.
The store had it’s regulars - some people Juliet had known for years and others she just knew by the nicknames she gave them. There was a knitting circle that met on Thursday afternoons, a kids craft club on Saturdays, and they’d even started doing a wine and paint night on Fridays. (The latter had been Juliet’s idea, and she was secretly incredibly proud of how well it had gone over.) Small as it was, Lebanon’s crafting community was enough to keep the store ticking over, and Juliet had access to all the wool she wanted. The old lady who owned the store had even hinted that she might leave the store to her when she retired.
So yes, the store was not busy, but neither was the town, and that was the way Juliet liked it. Change wasn't absent, it was just slow and easy. No surprises.
That is, until the man in the trenchcoat walked through the doors.
+++
Juliet was part way through a particularly frustrating section of the sweater she was working on when the bell on the front door rang, signalling a customer. Taking advantage of the excuse to abandon her needles, she placed the project on the shelf under the counter and plastered on her best customer service smile.
Her smile faltered when she saw who it was.
Everyone in Lebanon was aware of the Campbell brothers, the two strange men who lived on the outskirts of town (where exactly, nobody was sure) but Juliet had never actually seen them. Sure, there were enough stories that she could probably identify them on sight, but they’d taken on such a mythical status in the eyes of Lebanon’s younger population that she was beginning to think they didn’t exist. Afterall, if people were to be believed, both brothers were stupidly handsome, weird, and equal parts polite and rude. They weren’t exactly the kind of people you’d find in a tiny, sleepy place like this.
So when a rumpled, slightly confused looking man wearing a trenchcoat wandered into her store, she knew exactly who it was. The sidekick. What the actual relationship to the brothers was she had no idea. Personally, Juliet’s best guess was that they were hitmen for the mob and this guy was a fixer.
So not really the kind of person she’d expect to see in a craft store. Unless he was looking for some improvised weapons.
She’d keep an eye on him.
For a few minutes he just walked up and down the shelves in the front of the store, where the cheap wool was stacked, leaving Juliet with a good vantage point to make her assessment. The guy looked like he was in his late thirties and was in need of a good nap, but it was obvious he was built under the ugly coat. He also moved silently and gracefully. It was unnerving, but the way he looked at the shelves of wool with a frown was instantly endearing. Like the wool held all the answers to the mysteries of the world. Whatever this guy’s deal was, Juliet didn’t think he was malicious. Maybe a bit weird, but she liked weird.
After watching another walk up and down the shelves Juliet decided to put him out of his misery.
“Can I help you with anything?” she asked, customer service voice and smile fully deployed. The guy didn’t startle but he looked over to her for the first time like he had no idea he wasn’t alone.
“Uh yes. I think that may be necessary.”
While he still looked bewildered and lost, he walked over to Juliet’s desk with purpose. The strong, deep voice shocked her slightly, but once again she was charmed by his awkward, slightly odd behaviour. His expression didn’t reveal much but there was a touch of fear and anxiety in his eyes. Not exactly what she usually got in the craft store.
“My … friend is with child, and I read that handcrafted goods may be useful and appreciated gifts. But I have to admit I don’t know where to start.”
That explained the expression. The guy had probably knocked up this ‘friend’ and wasn’t sure where he stood. It was sweet that he wanted to make something though, it was probably a sign he’d be a good dad.
“Well, congrats to your friend. Crafts are a good idea though, you’re right. What kind of thing were you thinking? I saw you looking at the wool.”
“I thought I would try knitting?” he replied, more of a question than a statement. His hands were pressed onto the counter, and Juliet noticed that they were strong and nimble looking. He would be good at knitting, she could tell. Crafter’s instinct or something.
“Yes, that's a great place to start with baby stuff. I think for a beginner, baby hats are a simple place to start.”
His face lit up. Well. The corner of his mouth lifted up in what she thought was a small smile. For this guy, that was lit up.
“Let me show you some of the baby wool. You don’t want to use that nasty cheap acrylic stuff when you’re knitting for a baby.”
“Should you be calling your own stock ‘nasty’ to a potential customer?” he asked, fingers awkwardly forming quote marks. She wasn’t sure if it was intended to be a joke or not but Juliet found herself laughing. Yeah, she liked this guy.
“I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna be a regular, and you won’t snitch right?”
“I won’t,” he said seriously. “I was told snitches get stitches.”
Juliet laughed again, but fully this time. “I hope you do come back. Let’s get you set up with some basics.”
In the end the guy left with a couple of balls of soft yellow baby wool, a book about knitting, and a couple of types of needles. Juliet also wrote him a list of youtube videos to watch, which she found more helpful than the books. The guy still looked mildly terrified but determined. She’d all but forgotten about the Campbell brothers rumours, and instead just hoped that the weird guy came back.
+++
It was only a few days later that Juliet got her wish.
She was focusing on the last row of a twisted rib stitch that had been giving her trouble, so when the bell rang Juliet didn’t look up, just charged on with the last few stitches and called out, “I’ll be with you in a second!”
“I can wait,” came a gravelly voice, sounding too close to have only just arrived.
Juliet looked up instinctively. It was Trenchcoat Guy. He smiled at her awkwardly, like he knew it was something he was supposed to do, but wasn’t practised at the motion. When Juliet grinned back, genuinely happy to see him, he visibly relaxed.
Satisfied that he wasn’t going to run away, or worse, ask to talk to her manager, Juliet turned her attention back to her needles and quickly finished up the row, needles clacking gratifyingly under her speed. When she looked back up she found that Trenchcoat Guy was watching her.
“You are very good at that,” he noted. Juliet knew she was good at what she did, but still, she felt herself blush slightly at the sincere praise.
“Well I hope so, I’ve spent ten odd years practising.”
“Still, it takes dedication to hone a craft. That’s an admirable skill,” he pressed. Trenchcoat Guy looked at her so warmly and intently Juliet felt a bit dizzy with it. It was like Superman’s laser eyes, if the lasers were like, the abstract concept of admiration or something.
“Yeah well,” she ducked her eyes, and pretended to busy herself with the yarn until she could safely look up at him again. “How did you get on with your project?”
This time it was Trenchcoat Guy’s turn to avert his eyes. He smiled sheepishly and pulled out a couple of lopsided looking hats from inside his coat.
“They’re, um, not what I was envisioning.” He said as he dumped the brightly coloured hats in front of her. Juliet pulled them towards herself and started inspecting them - they weren’t actually too bad for a beginner - and told him as much.
“You just need to practice. Knitting isn’t really something you can just be perfect at when you first try it.”
He nodded decisively. “I’ll practice. I have time.”
They spent a few minutes looking at the wool together, and pulling some of the guy's favourite colours. He seemed particularly fond of the yellow. Juliet didn’t pull any more books for the guy, as he said he found the videos more helpful, instead she wrote down some more suggestions for him and pulled out a flyer from under the counter.
“It’s for our knitting circle, we meet every Thursday and it’s a really good way to learn quickly. But there’s no pressure, if it’s not your thing,” she added quickly, when she saw his face twist in what looked like skepticism.
“There are a couple of other guys that come, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she hedged.
“Oh no, that’s not it.” he smiled softly. “My work is … unpredictable a lot of the time. I don’t think I can commit to coming regularly.”
Juliet felt uneasy for a moment, thinking about the rumours that circled the Campbells, but looking at the man in front of her, she could see nothing but sweetness and kindness. The rumours had to be just that.
“Don’t worry about that, it’s super casual. I’ll be there every week, cause I run it, but aside from that people drift in and out.”
He smiled at her again, warmer by the minute.
“Then I would love to attend.”
“So uh, what’s your name? I feel bad I keep calling you Trenchcoat Guy in my head.”
“As accurate as that nomenclature is, my name is Castiel. But I go by Cas more often these days, with my friends.”
Castiel. An odd name, but it suited him. Juliet saw the gesture for what it was though, an offer of friendship.
“Nice to meet you Cas.”
+++
Despite his warnings, Cas became a regular fixture at the knitting circle and quickly won over the others. It didn’t take Juliet long to discover that despite his gentle manner in the store, he had a cutting and dry humour. And he was bitchy. It was brilliant. He fit right in.
His knitting came on in leaps and bounds as well. Within a few weeks he had mastered the basic stitches and could pull together a simple hat. The knitting bug had caught him now though, and she was soon showing him more advanced patterns. Currently Castiel was working on a bee hat. Bees, she’d learnt, were a favourite.
There were other things she’d learnt about the man, in the couple of months since he’d started visiting her shop. Some things she learnt, he’d volunteered (the Campbell brothers were called Sam and Dean, he was fond of all things to do with nature, and he moved around a lot for work), and others she’d picked up herself (he could be rude when he wanted to be, he didn’t laugh a lot but it was easy to tell he was enjoying himself, and he was lonely). It was clear to Juliet that Castiel cared deeply, about his friends, about the unborn baby he was looking out for, and even about her. But there was something removed about him, something unknowable. It was like he was holding himself back, or there was a part that he couldn’t or wouldn’t trust with anyone.
Castiel was so effortlessly full of love - he was learning to knit for a baby he didn’t have any personal stake in for Christ's sake. (Not the father of the baby - that was another thing she’d learnt). Movies and books would imply that a lot of love was shown through words - epic declarations, affirmations, speeches - and whilst that was true of some people, Juliet knew that by and large love was shown through actions, and the act of creating something for someone else was one of the purest expressions of love that she knew.
During his time learning to knit Cas had branched out from baby hats and had been making items for his friends. Ostensibly it was for practice, but she could see it for what it was - an act of love. When he spoke of the Campbells, of Kelly, and of what he thought they would want, Juliet could see the love shining through. It was poured into every stitch. Juliet could only hope he was getting some of that love back. She was quickly considering the man a good friend, and she needed to make sure that he knew that he had her at least.
“What’s the next project after this one Cas?” she asked, noticing he was quickly approaching the end of the hat. He’d be done after another couple of hours of work.
“I was thinking about making some gloves for Kelly, her circulation is getting quite poor the closer she gets to her due date.”
Castiel had already made her a scarf, and a hat of her own, so she supposed gloves were inevitable.
“Are you sure you’re up to making fingers? They're fiddly little twats.” She avoided them when she could. Any day without double ended needles was a good one.
Castiel considered her words. “Perhaps I could make them fingerless? I would only have to do the thumb then,” he suggested. “I should be able to manage one per hand. I’m up for a challenge.”
“I believe in you,” she said with a grin. He nodded in acknowledgment and smiled his small little smile, lips twitching upwards slightly in the corner.
“How did Sam like his scarf by the way? You never said.”
He never really mentioned how his hobby was going over with his friends, and to be honest Juliet couldn’t imagine the Campbell brothers wearing handmade knitwear. It wasn’t really the look you went for when you were mobsters/assassins/alien hunters. Castiel shifted in his seat slightly, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself.
“I haven’t given it to him yet,” he said. “Only Kelly knows about the knitting.”
“What? Why?” Juliet asked, confused.
“Things are… tense right now. There is a lot happening, with work and the baby, and I do not want them to think I’ve been wasting time when I could’ve been doing something more useful.”
He looked genuinely conflicted as he explained himself, and Juliet found herself growing angry. Cas had taken up a harmless hobby as a way to help with the baby. Even if he hadn’t, everyone needed a hobby.
“Cas, it’s knitting. It’s not like you’re getting wasted instead of looking after your kids. No job is so important that you can’t take an evening off.”
Cas didn’t answer her though, he just focused intently on his knitting working steadily and falling back into his rhythm.
Juliet grabbed his wrist and halted his progress, and she waited until he met her eyes.
“Cas. You are allowed to want things. You are allowed to do things because you want to do them. Anyone can look at you and see that you’re selfless. All you do is think about other people.”
He looked at her for a moment and raised his eyebrow, she snorted.
“Okay, you’re bitchy and you like to gossip, but that’s only for people who deserve it.”
Castiel smiled at her. He looked fond and amused, but tired. Juliet felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end as he looked at her. His eyes looked impossibly old and weary in that moment, so heavy that she felt as though it would crush her. There was something in his soul that she wouldn’t be able to comprehend and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to.
“My life, it’s complicated. I know that is a cliche, because Dean has made me watch many movies with that exact excuse, but it is true. Our priorities are different from other people’s. I wish they weren’t, but it is the situation I’m in currently and I don’t have regrets about the choices that have led me here. So I can’t tell them about this hobby, because I don’t want this to be another source of stress.” He frowned at his needles and sighed. “When the time is right perhaps I’ll give them what I’ve made. But not right now. I have time.”
Juliet accepted his words, because there was nothing else she could do, but she resolved to try and make their time together as fun and as stress free as possible. It was the least she could do.
+++
There was something else Juliet learnt during their months of knitting sessions, Castiel had revealed it to her in dribs and drabs, scraps of conversations, and movements of hands, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed before.
Castiel was in love with Dean Campbell.
Juliet noticed that while Cas mostly talked about Dean, his knitting was rarely for him. He’d made a scarf in a deep green merino wool that apparently would suit Dean, but aside from that it was all for baby, Kelly, or Sam. Mostly, he knitted for the baby and for Kelly. That made sense, as they both had immediate identifiable needs. Less common were the items he made for Sam. With Sam, it was apparent that they had a relationship that was full of fondness and familiarity, which meant Cas seemed to think whatever he made, Sam would appreciate. (Juliet had especially loved the gigantic purple sweater he had made, a shade that Castiel had said was reminiscent of magic).
Dean was different. The way Castiel spoke of Dean implied a closeness that eclipsed his other relationships, but he never seemed to even consider making things for Dean.
The day Juliet realised Castiel was in love with Dean, she was working on some Pride items during the knitting circle. She wasn’t really sure about the shades of purple, blue, and pink she was currently using, but she would use it herself if it wasn’t good enough for the display. Cas had noticed and quietly inquired about her project. She paused for a moment before answering, trying to decide whether to be honest or not. It was still a risk to talk about these things to relative strangers in Kansas, but in the store they’d never shied away from making their political beliefs known and Juliet thought she knew Cas well enough at this point to trust him.
“It’s a scarf for Pride, we usually do a big display. This one is the bisexual flag.”
“It’s lovely. I am aware of Pride, but the colours aren’t familiar to me. I don’t mean to be ignorant.”
“No don’t worry, I like questions, it gives me a chance to spread my liberal agenda,” she replied with a grin. “It’s not really just for Pride month anyway, it’s just a way of showing and being proud of your sexuality or gender identity.”
Castiel nodded. “Like the rainbow.”
“Yeah, that’s like the general umbrella ‘gay’ flag, although gay men generally tend to use that one,” she explained. Juliet pulled the list of flags and relevant colours she kept in her craft bag as reference.
“Here,” she pointed to the rainbow, which ended in brown and black. “There’s a few versions, but this is the one I’ll probably do as a scarf or shawl.”
Castiel studied the page for a moment but he seemed to come to a decision. “I should try the rainbow. I think gay man applies best to me. And I like rainbows, it’s one of the more enjoyable weather phenomena.”
Juliet gaped at him. While she wasn’t surprised at the development per se - Castiel was easy bait for some of the women in the group and he’d barely looked at them - but it seemed as though he had just decided on his sexuality there and then.
Actually she shouldn’t be surprised, that was exactly like Castiel.
“Damn Cas, I think this is the most I’ve learnt about you since you told me your name.”
“Juliet, we talk every week and I consider you a friend, so I would hardly say that’s true.”
“What I mean is, I know a lot about your life, your friends, and what you think of them. But I don’t know a lot about you. ”
“There isn’t much to know I suppose.”
“Bullshit! You’re gay, I didn’t know that! How about this, are you dating anyone? We’ve never spoken about that before,” she pressed.
Cas’ eyes widened and he looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat when he usually sat abnormally still. “Ah, no.”
His evasiveness only increased her curiosity. “Oh but there is someone you like. I can tell. Is it someone in town? Actually, I don’t know anyone you talk about other than Sam, Dean or Kelly. And it’s not Kelly.”
“Perhaps we should talk about something else.”
Cas was beginning to actually look upset by the direction of the conversation, rather than just shy, so Juliet decided it was best to drop the subject. “You got it Cas. Thanks for telling me though,” she said sincerely, hoping to put him a bit more at ease. The man had just come out to her and she’d immediately bombarded him with more questions, it probably wasn’t the best idea to push. He might still be in the closet, what with the odd way he announced his sexuality to her.
She kept turning it over in her head though, thinking of Castiel as her hands moved in unconscious movements to form her stitches. For a man who so clearly poured love from his hands, he could be difficult to read. In fact, the book of Castiel often felt like it was in a different language entirely. But Juliet had been getting to know him for months now, surely she could figure this puzzle out.
What was it he had said about knitting? He didn’t want to cause anyone any stress? Of course he’d be that way about his own feelings as well. Tucking them away where no one would even know they existed. But then she thought about the way that Castiel’s crafts were so unequivocally made with love. He couldn’t conceal himself in his knitting. Juliet continued onto a new row and twisted her fingers to manipulate the wool into nice, tight stitches. It was a steady and hypnotic rhythm, perfect for thinking.
When her fingers suddenly cramped and she almost dropped a stitch, Juliet saw it suddenly, like negative space on a painting. Absence.
It was Dean.
Of course it was Dean. Castiel talked about his best friend often, but in an indirect sort of way. It was always an aside, or a lead-in to another story. Dean had told him this or Dean liked that movie. He was interwoven into Castiel’s core. But Cas never made him anything. Maybe he thought it’d be too obvious if he let himself make things for Dean. Maybe none of it seems special enough. Whatever the reason, Castiel seemed content with his current situation and set on maintaining it. Juliet would leave him to it. For now.
Even though she had just had a major revelation about her friend, Juliet maintained her knitting and pivoted to conversation to more familiar topics. They talked idly about the impending birth of Kelly’s baby and the latest wool order he’d placed. She updated him on the latest drama from the wine nights (Cheryl was sleeping with her husband’s brother, and wasn’t shy about it).
It was nice. The awkwardness about Castiel’s love life was forgotten and Juliet lost herself in the familiar rhythms of her needles and gossip.
That day had been the last time she saw Castiel for a while, and she wished he knew it at the time.
+++
Juliet sat at the counter with her phone pressed against her ear, listening to the phone line ring and ring for the sixth time that week. This is my voicemail, make your voice … a mail. She swore and slammed her phone down. Castiel’s voicemail message had been funny the first time she’d heard it but now she wanted to throw her phone against a wall every time she heard it.
It’d been weeks since she’d last seen Cas, and while she was worried, there wasn’t much she could do. They saw each regularly in the store but that was it. They weren’t the kind of friends who text. And while she had his number, there was no real reason for her to call him. At the end of the day Cas was still a customer, and she couldn't exactly harass him for no real reason. Back when they first met, months ago, he had warned her that his work was unpredictable. This was exactly what he said may happen. So why was she so worried? Despite his warnings, there was something in her gut that told her that something was wrong.
So when the wool order came in Juliet was ecstatic. It was an actual reason to call, without seeming like a stalker and losing her job.
But even that had been a dead end.
Each time she’d called and the phone had rang and rang and no one had answered, the horrible feeling in her gut grew. She was frustrated and worried and she felt sick to her stomach. What if Castiel really was involved with the mob? And something had gone horribly, violently wrong with a job? What if he was hurt, or worse, what if he was -
Before Juliet could finish that line of thinking her phone began to vibrate.
Juliet looked at it for a moment, the shock of its sound in the relative quiet of the shop cut through her frantic thoughts and made her freeze up. Then she saw the display. She snatched it up and answered.
“Cas! I was starting to get worried-”
A gravelly voice on the other end interrupted her. “This ain’t Cas. Who are you? Why do you keep calling?”
“Who are you ? Why do you have Castiel’s phone?”
“Hey.” The voice said sharply. “I asked first.”
Juliet swallowed, hearing the danger in the stranger's tone, and decided to change tact. “I’m Juliet. I work at the Lebanon Craft Corner? I have Castiel’s order.”
“Crafts?” the voice laughed softly and sighed. “Fucking typical. Of course. Of course you’re Cas’ craft hook up.”
“Um. I’ve been trying to get in contact with him for a few days, and I haven’t seen him for a while. Is he okay?”
The steel in the man’s voice that had scared her at the beginning of the call was quickly disappearing, and she could hear the man losing composure. “Did you. Uh. Did you see him regularly?”
Deflection, again. Juliet was getting more and more uncomfortable by this conversation and she needed answers, despite the man’s obvious reluctance to give them. He was still on the phone though, so she figured she could try pushing again.
“Yeah. I did. I saw him at least once a week for the last six months. He was my friend and I want to know who you are and why you have his phone.”
There was silence for a long moment, a soft rustling sound, and then a sigh.
“Um. My name is Dean. Dean - Campbell? I don’t know if you know me - ”
“I do.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. So um. That’s why I have Cas’ phone. He lived with me, uh, with us, I guess. At least most of the time.”
“But that doesn’t explain where he is.”
Dean laughed, sharply and without mirth. “Yeah, I guess not.”
He sighed again, but this one was heavier and more resigned. Juliet felt cold.
All this talk during their knitting sessions about Castiel’s friends, his family, and this was not how she expected any conversation with them to go.
“Dean. Tell me. Please.”
“He’s dead.”
+++
Dean Campbell showed up at the store two days later.
Juliet hadn’t seen him in person before but she’d heard enough stories around town that she could’ve picked him out of a line up. The bell over the door rang and she immediately looked up. And there he was. Short-cropped dirty blond hair, about sixty layers, and a face that hovered between menacing and pretty. He was about what she expected, until he stomped further into the store and she got a proper look at him.
When he looked at Dean she saw a man hollowed out. Someone had split him open and let the insides tumble out. It was painful to look at. He looked so out of place next to the shelves upon shelves of soft wool. He was rough and raw, an festering open wound, and he was staring at a shelf of blue four ply wool.
The broken, rough voice on the phone was her first hint, but seeing this man in front of her, Juliet came to a quick conclusion. Castiel had been in love with Dean Campbell, but Dean was still in love with Cas.
“Hey,” she called out. “It’s Dean right?”
His head shot up quickly and he stepped away from the shelf as though he’d been doing something he shouldn’t.
“Um. Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck and walked over to the counter. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name. On the phone.”
The reminder stung.
When Dean dropped his bombshell about Castiel, he had hastily mumbled out a brief explanation (if you could call it that) and promptly hung up before Juliet could ask a single question. Instead she was just left with her entire world shifted on its axis, everything tilted just a little to the left and off-kilter. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead.
At first she didn’t believe it, but seeing Dean in front of her now, looking like - and this was putting it mildly - dogshit, it was clear that he had been telling the truth.
“Juliet.”
“Uh. Right. Juliet. With the crafts.” The words were stiff in his mouth, and his sudden awkwardness with the conversation only served to make him look years younger.
Juliet waved her hands in an approximation of jazz hands and immediately cringed. “That’s me. Crafts.” When he didn’t say anything further she continued. “So, uh, what you said. About Cas-”
“Look. He’s dead. He ain’t coming back. I just want to collect his stuff and then you can stop calling.”
Juliet was suddenly incredibly angry. “Excuse me. Can you give me a minute to digest? You told me my friend is dead and won’t offer me any proper details, and I’m supposed to just accept it?” She didn’t care how broken up Dean was. Castiel was her friend and she deserved information. “Can you at least tell me when he died? What happened?”
Dean sighed. His arms were braced on the counter and they looked to be the only things holding him up. “Look. I’m sorry. I’ve had a fucking horrendous couple of weeks and I didn’t even know anything about this … craft stuff. Or that Cas had other friends.” Juliet shot him an incredulous look, and he did at least have the decency to look ashamed. His eyes had barely left the ground the entire conversation.
The whole thing only made her more furious. “I thought you were supposed to be his best friend? Why don’t you know about Cas’ other friends? I know about you. And Sam. And Kelly and the baby.”
“H-He told you about Kelly?”
“Yeah, it’s the reason that he came here in the first place. He wanted to make something for the baby.”
“God. That fucking sounds like him,” he laughed, and the sound came out watery. “Always thinking of other people. Fucking idiot.”
Juliet could only agree. Although she wouldn’t call it idiotic
“That’s how he died,” Dean admitted. “Protecting Kelly, and the baby.”
“Are they okay?”
Once again Dean sighed, then he flexed and clenched his fingers a few times in rhythm with his breathing.
“The baby. Jack. He was born okay. But Kelly, Cas, and - and others, they were all hurt. They died. Protecting the kid.”
“Jesus Christ.” Juliet was already sitting down, but she felt the need to fall back into her chair regardless. “When?”
“Last week. May 18th.”
She nodded. “And the baby? Is he okay?”
Dean’s face twisted in an unreadable expression and again he took a couple of steadying breaths before speaking.
“He’s fine. More than fine. Thriving. His name is Jack. Kelly picked it out.” The words left Dean in sharp, staccato beats, measured despite the bluntness. He was holding himself very tightly and Juliet worried about what would happen when then tension inevitably snapped.
“That’s a good name,” she said carefully. “I imagine Cas would’ve liked it.”
Dean actually huffed a laugh at that. “Yeah. Well, Kelly chose, but if Cas had his way it was either going to be something like that or an obscure plant name.”
Juliet smiled, a wave of fondness washing over her. Despite the anger she felt when Dean had first blustered into her store, she could tell that he cared about Castiel. More than cared. The guy clearly had issues - considering the fact he didn’t seem to know a lot about Castiel’s friends and hobbies - but there was no mistaking the way he felt about Castiel. Especially with the way his aching loss he was currently painted on his face.
“Look, Dean. I was really fond of Cas, we spent a lot of time together the last months. I just want you to know that he was a brilliant man, and he cared about you a lot. All of you. But you especially.” She dug around under the counter for Cas’ package of wool. “You can take the stuff he ordered if you want, but if you go through his things, I know there is a stash of knitwear he made for you guys. That he spent months making.”
“For us?” Dean actually looked shocked. It was a raw shock though, his mouth falling open slightly, eyes wide, looking at her like he was a child.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “He came by every week and made different things for the baby, for Kelly, and for you and Sam.”
He rubbed a hand roughly across his face. “Fuck.” It was only a single, soft word but it sounded almost like a sob. Her heart broke looking at him. He was wrecked.
She was just about to offer him a seat behind the counter, when he suddenly exhaled sharply and straightened up.
“Look, I know you must think I’m a shitty friend. I didn’t even know he was friggin’ into knitting for Christ’s sake. But he’s gone. And he ain’t coming back,” he took a breath. “I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me what he’s been getting up to here. With you. What I missed.”
She noticed the way his hand was tapping lightly on the counter as spoke, but his words were steady and earnest, despite whatever nerves and pain he was feeling. When she looked at him she could start to see the man Castiel had loved. Whatever flaws he had, it wasn’t a lack of love, or goodness. He was just a man who had lost someone, and wanted to possess any part of that person he’d missed out on.
So she spoke.
+++
A month after Dean’s visit to the store Juliet still felt the loss of Cas acutely. She hadn’t known what to tell the knitting circle when they asked after him, so she’d just said he was away for work. It didn’t feel right telling them, as they weren’t close to Cas, not like she had been. She didn’t want their sad words or pitying looks, no matter how well intentioned they may be.
Dean hadn’t been back either - which wasn’t surprising. After he’d broken down at her about Cas’ death, she had closed the store and then spent the next hour talking to him about everything she and Cas had shared in the months she’d known him. She’d talked about how withering his looks could be, how he could keep track of gossip like no-one else, and how he poured his love into his crafts. She told Dean about the way the women in the knitting circle flirted with him, and how oblivious he was. She told him about how quickly he picked up knitting, and suited he was to it. In return Dean had told her about how Cas loved hamburgers, pop music, and his truck. He told her about how capable Castiel was, how brave, how strong.
Castiel was Dean’s best friend and they had known each other for years, he was loyal and sarcastic and headstrong, and Dean ached with how much he missed him.
Juliet’s current project sat neglected on her lap as she sat lost in thought, trying not to wonder once again if there was anything she could’ve done. She knew there wasn’t, Cas had obviously lived a dangerous, complicated life, but she wished there was some way he could’ve been safer. At least she hoped her friendship had meant something, as it didn’t seem like he had enough friends.
She was spared from spiralling further down that line of thought when the bell above the front door rang, and a potential customer came into the store. He was a young guy, although he could’ve been anywhere between from late teens to mid twenties. His floppy, blond hair and wide smile made her think he was on the younger side of her estimate.
“Hello!” he said as he waved at her, making a beeline straight for the counter. “You’re Juliet! I’m Jack. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Before she could even begin to process what a wild statement that was, the bell rang again. Two men bustled through the doorway, hands held, and her brain stopped working for a moment because she was sure that it was Castiel standing in front of her. The coat was slightly different, but everything else was just as she remembered.
“What is-”
“Castiel is alive again now. He came back to us,” the kid called Jack said to her, answering the half-formed question in her head.
Juliet looked at the other man - it was Dean, of course it was Dean - hoping for some sanity in the situation. Dean just shrugged and offered her a wonky smile.
“Uh yeah. It’s complicated but Cas is here. So that’s all that matters really ain’t it?”
Juliet wasn’t sure if she agreed or not, but she let herself look at Castiel properly. He was there. Right in front of her, unchanged and smiling.
Before she let herself think about the situation too hard, she found herself out of her seat, around the counter, with her arms wrapped around his waist. Juliet hugged him like she had been wanting to since the second time she met him.
“Don’t do that again!” she yelled into his chest.
“Believe me, I’ve been trying to get him to stick around for years,” Dean quipped. Juliet pulled herself away from Cas and turned towards him.
“Don’t you make jokes. I’m not your friend yet, you’re on thin ice. What happened?”
“Believe me lady, you don’t wanna know.” Honestly, from the rumours she’d heard about the Campbells, and what she’d learnt so far, Juliet was pretty sure she agreed with him. But that wasn’t the point. She was about to argue when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Juliet looked up at Cas.
“Would you believe me if I said it was a miracle and we had to leave it at that?” he asked.
“No,” she said, “but I’ll take it for now.”
“That’s all I ask.” He smiled at her then, wider than she’d ever seen him smile before. Suddenly she felt tears fill her eyes, out of her control.
“I’m so mad at you, and you,” she added, pointing at Dean. “But I’m so happy. And confused.”
“Yes, emotions tend to be quite turbulent I think, in situations like this.”
“Oh, you have experience of situations like this do you?” Juliet replied sarcastically, before she could stop herself.
Dean snorted at that. “Cas I can see why you like her.”
Castiel just gave him an indulgent smile, and Dean returned it with a fond look. Juliet almost felt like she was intruding, but then again, they were in the middle of a craft store. She realised it was actually the first time she had seen the pair interact, despite all that she’d heard about Dean from Cas, and vice versa. She wondered if they were always like that.
“They’re always like this,” a voice next to her said. Her head snapped to the side and she realised it was the kid, Jack. “Sam says it’s ‘eye sex’ but that I shouldn’t repeat that. You are Castiel’s friend though, so I don’t think he would mind.”
Juliet smiled automatically at the guy’s earnest words, even though she felt thoroughly confused.
“Um, okay.” She looked around at the odd assortment of weird men in her craft store. “I’m sorry, who is this?”
“I’m Jack,” he replied with a smile.
Juliet sighed. “I got that. It’s nice to meet you.”
“This is, uh, Jack,” Dean repeated awkwardly. Then with more emphasis: “Baby Jack.”
Juliet was sure her face was a caricature of shock. She turned to Cas, but he just nodded.
Somehow, despite the shock and the fragmented thoughts overwhelmed her mind, Juliet found herself nodding along, like all of this was normal.
“So, uh, I guess you wasted your time on all that baby knitwear.”
Cas nodded, like this was his first thought too. “Jack doesn’t fit them, but I did donate them so hopefully they will be of use.”
“Castiel said he will make me a Star Wars sweater though, so I don’t mind.”
Juliet was honestly baffled by Jack, and didn't know how to react to whatever he said - considering he was only supposed to be a few months old and they were talking about knitting of all things. But still. His earnestness, and goodness , was palpable and compelling. She grinned at him.
“Sounds excellent. I think I have some patterns that’d work.”
Jack looked extremely excited at the prospect, practically vibrating on the spot. Dean and Cas looked pleased too.
Dean scratched at the nape of his neck and looked at her awkwardly. “After you talked about showing, uh, love, with crafts and crap we thought, well Cas thought, me and Jack could learn too. Sammy as well, if he wants.”
Cas didn’t take his eyes off of Dean as he spoke, his face was open and fond. Juliet wondered again if this was normal for them, or anything had changed after his ‘death’. It hadn’t escaped her notice however, that they were still holding hands.
“Any particular love you want to show Dean?” she asked, grinning at his flustered expression.
“Very funny,” he said as he pulled a childish face. “I gotta pay Cas back for the scarf he made me, ain’t I.”
“Dean, that was a gift,” Castiel replied seriously, like he was offended at the idea Dean would think otherwise. That he owed him.
Dean didn’t make eye contact with Cas as he replied, but the sincerity was clear. “Yes well, I want to get you gifts too.”
“Well it will be nice to receive something other than mixtapes. My truck doesn’t even have a tape deck.”
A what.
“Wait, hold the fuck up, you made him a mixtape?” Juliet asked Dean, her voice not hiding the incredulity. “What the fuck man, did you carry the watermelons as well?”
“How am I not Patrick Swayze in this situation?” Dean murmured, mostly to himself.
“It was a very thoughtful gift, what with Dean’s preoccupation with the sentimentality of music,” Castiel explained. “Although I wasn’t aware of the romantic connotations until recently.”
Dean’s blush deepened, but he didn’t lose his smile. “Yeah. Well.”
Despite his obvious discomfort with the turn the conversation was taking Dean looked happy. Lighter. Juliet wasn’t sure exactly what had happened since her last conversations with both Cas and Dean - both of them clearly in love with the other and suffering with it - and now, and she likely never would. Oh, she’d grill Cas as soon as she got him alone, without a doubt, but she supposed some things were private. But whatever their relationship was now, her friend was back, and nothing else mattered.