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The house was too quiet.
That’s all Dean could think as he pried open the front door. It was barely hanging on to its rusted hinges, letting out a loud “screeeeeeeeek” when he finally broke through and nearly hit the floor. The jarring sound sent a jolt up his spine, especially after the long car ride with nothing but his music for company. Light spilled through the holes in the boarded up windows, illuminating the dust floating through the air. He scanned the entryway for signs of recent occupation and found none, no telltale footprints in the grime. Hell, his old army men were still melted into the ground in the living room exactly where he’d left them all those years ago.
“Cas? You here, buddy?”
Dean hoped that he wasn’t too late, but the tomb-like atmosphere wasn’t exactly promising. His heart sank as he tiptoed across the rotting wood floor, making his way through the ground level. Despite the blackened walls and fire damage, the old cabin seemed sound enough to provide an overnight spot to sleep, especially with his camping gear.
Good, Dean thought. Less work for him if it turned out that he’d be rebuilding the place. Of course, that depended on Cas and whether the creature had managed to survive all these years… or not. But he couldn’t let himself think that way. Cas had to still be here. Where else could he have gone? No, it was the last bit of daylight that was the problem. Cas lived in the shadows, loved the darkness. A nocturnal creature like that would be sleeping right now, probably blissfully unaware that Dean was even here.
Unless years of being alone and waiting for you to come home killed him. His brain supplied. Unless the fire killed him and you didn’t even know.
He tried to ignore the ache in his chest. Too many memories in this place. He wondered if whatever Cas was could leave behind energy like a ghost, then pushed the thought from his mind. If Cas’ loneliness was powerful enough to leave a psychic scar on the place, it was all Dean’s fault.
Dean unpacked his gear, laying out his sleeping bag on the living room floor and batting away the cobwebs. Checking his watch, he sighed in frustration. Only about an hour until the sunset, but after making the journey to get here it felt like an eternity to wait in the ruins of the house.
Not one to sit still, he began the preparations for what he hoped would be a happy reunion. His pack contained his favorite camping light, chosen specifically for its inviting glow that was sure to throw shadows onto what remained of the walls. He was never sure exactly what Cas was drawn to, remembering the way he would simply appear in Dean’s bedroom at night as though he lived in the walls.
He couldn’t remember the first time he’d seen Cas – it was like he’d always been there. But he recalled how safe Cas had always made him feel. Another kid might have been worried about the monster that apparently lived in his closet, but Dean could never be scared of the powerful creature who watched over him night after night. Whenever John’s anger found an outlet in his fists, Dean’s protector was there to pick up the pieces. Dean didn’t know what Cas was, despite years of paranormal research at the library. But he could heal Dean somehow, heal him from the inside out. As he’d grown older, their friendship became a lifeline and blossomed into something more. When John raged, Cas was there to whisper sweet words to counteract John’s harsh ones. He could soothe Dean’s hurt with the gentlest of touches. Dean didn’t know love before he knew Cas.
Losing Cas was what hurt the most, after the fire and the fresh start it gave him. Dean could barely recall what offhand remark or ill-timed punch had finally pushed him over the edge, but his mind supplied with perfect clarity the memory of lighting a match and watching it all burn. He had waited patiently on the front lawn for the fire trucks to arrive, a void in his chest where his grief should have been. He couldn’t even summon the energy to be angry. He was just… exhausted.
The police had ruled John’s death an accident almost immediately. He had a reputation as the town drunk, and the bruises everyone had noticed on Dean over the years made it obvious the old man was no saint. Officially, John Winchester died of smoke inhalation after trying to start a fire in their non-working fireplace after drinking the day away. His poor son tried to save him of course, even after enduring years of abuse from the man, but he was too late. After a few hours of questioning, some strategic tears, and a sympathetic sheriff who ignored some glaring inconsistencies in his story, Dean walked away scot free.
He didn’t regret the fire or John’s death. He’d made his peace with that long ago. If he was going to Hell for it, at least he could beat the shit out of his father when he got there. But he did regret leaving Cas behind. He had been there for Dean for years, urging him to leave his father and start a new life. The thought that the fire that killed John could have consumed his friend as well left Dean nauseous. But there was no way for him to stick around without raising suspicions.
That was why he’d come back now, five years later. Now that the memory of the fire had faded from Lawrence’s collective memory, Dean figured now was the time to rebuild the old cabin and make it his. He’d spent years saving money from odd jobs and construction work to buy the land back from the town. If Cas was still here, maybe they could live here together. If not… well, city folk were moving out here all the time. He could fix the place up and sell it, then leave it all behind forever.
As night fell and the darkness crept in, Dean switched on the light. The room was bathed in a warm glow, long shadows running up the walls. He shivered as the breeze outside made its way in through the shattered windows. Sitting on the floor, Dean crossed his legs and waited. But the only sound Dean could hear was the whistling of the wind. The shadows danced, but Cas’ distinctive form didn’t appear. He tried to pass the time by reading his battered copy of Slaughterhouse-Five , but he couldn’t focus. He had always felt watched in the cabin, but he’d never felt unsettled the way he did now.
As his watch beeped to inform him it was just past midnight, Dean decided to get some shut eye. Maybe Cas was just scared and needed more time to warm up to his presence after his time away. Trying to ignore the hollow sensation that had slowly but surely crept back into his chest, he slowly made his way through each room, using his flashlight to check behind every closet door for evidence of a squatter or trapped animal he’d missed before. But the place was empty. There was no logical reason for his creeping paranoia.
Only one creature had ever been able to make him feel an emotion like that, but Dean tried to put Cas out of his mind. His brain made the connection for him anyway: the way his anxiety increased inside the cabin, the way waves of nausea rolled over him with no relief. Cas had often communicated his thoughts through making Dean’s body react, finding it was easier and faster than his poor attempts at naming his feelings in human terms. It was like being possessed, and when Cas was pleased, Dean adored the comforting sensation that settled into his bones.
But Cas was a no show. Dean had watched for the telltale signs of shadows dancing or flashes of blue in the corner of his eye all night, and yet there was nothing. It had to be his own nervous energy. Crawling into his sleeping bag on the living room floor, he tossed and turned before drifting into a restless sleep.
He soon awoke after another fiery nightmare, alert and afraid. His instincts screamed at him to get out. But Dean knew from experience that the feeling would fade in time, so he ignored his pounding heart and opened his backpack. Gulping water, he tried to ground himself in the moment.
As he breathed in and out, he heard a creaking sound in the otherwise silent house. He tiptoed into the hallway, eyes fixed to the slightly ajar door to the basement. He knew it was shut before he went to bed – he’d checked it a million times.
"Hello?" he whispered, not daring to hope.
It cracked open, slowly. A billowing black cloud with startling flashes of blue light peered out at Dean.
Still here . Castiel whispered in his tingly, windchime voice. God, how Dean had missed hearing that voice in his head. You're not alone . Now sleep, little one.
Something in Dean’s gut unclenched, replaced by a comforting weight in his belly as the door creaked shut once again. Dean shuffled back to his makeshift bed, barely conscious of his actions as a haze settled over him.
Light shone through the slats in the walls as Dean woke with a start. His watch informed him it was nearly nine in the morning, and he groaned. He’d missed his first chance to see Castiel again. As he shook off his exhaustion to stand up and face the day, bits and pieces of his dreams came back to him. He remembered the smoke and the flames, but he also remembered that Cas had showed up towards the end. He hadn’t had a dream that featured Cas in a long time.
As he ate the protein bar he’d packed for breakfast, Dean couldn’t help himself from glancing around the living room for any trace of Cas. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had such a realistic experience in his nightmares, but something about it was more real than usual. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Dean stood and made his way to the hallway.
The door to the basement was wide open. His dream was real, then. Dean picked up his lantern and slowly made his way to the door. His stomach somersaulted in anticipation, but he couldn’t deny there was fear there too. He inched down the steps, holding the lantern in front of him to announce his arrival.
There, hidden in the darkness, was Castiel. Dean’s heart thudded as he took in the sight. Cas was a small lightning storm, electric blue pulses moving through the swirling, inky blackness. Smoky limbs drew back as Cas retreated further into the basement upon spotting Dean.
Not wanting to spook Cas, Dean sat on the bottom step, placing the lantern at his feet. He stared into the center of Castiel’s cloud, where he knew the creature’s eyes were. Dean cleared his throat. “Heya, Cas. You know, you could have said hello. I’m not gonna bite. I can feel you around anyway.”
Hello, Dean. Cas flashed bright blue in his usual greeting. Pardon my intrusion last night. I… did not wish to disturb you, but you seemed… unsettled. I simply wanted to help you sleep.
Dean let out a sigh of relief. This was a start, at least. If Cas was angry, he would have just hightailed it out of the nearest smashed window. “Figured it was you last night. Sorry it’s… sorry it’s been a while.”
It has. Cas whispered.
Dean's chest tightened as the same melancholy feeling from before washed over him. It had been Cas trying to communicate through his body before. He had missed this, the way they could speak without saying a word.
“Yeah well, it wasn't exactly my choice. At least, not for a while.” Dean rubbed his neck. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
Cas crept towards Dean tendril by tendril, coalescing into a more tangible form. I waited for you. I knew you would come home someday. Tingling warmth spread through Dean’s chest, making its way down to his toes. Cas again.
Dean chuckled, rueful. “Well, I’m glad one of us was sure.”
He could feel Cas pull away a bit then, cold fear replacing the comforting sensation. He reached one tendril towards Dean like an outstretched hand. Are you… happy to be home? I worried that perhaps you had forgotten me. The world is large, and I am aware of my place in its scale. It would be understandable for you to move on.
Dean reached out his own hand, extending one finger for Cas to hook onto. His wispy appendage tentatively moved closer then, wrapping around Dean’s index finger.
His throat constricted at the light touch. Dean knew from experience that Cas could make himself as permeable as he desired. Cas was truly afraid of scaring him away, then.
“I am, Cas. Happy, that is. Much happier now that I’m here, in fact.” He squeezed harder, pleased with the way Cas responded to his affirming touch by becoming more solid. “Don’t sell yourself short. It’s pretty hard to move on from something as beautiful as you.”
Cas visibly preened at that, flashing turquoise and moving closer to Dean. Did you miss me? Is that why you have returned?
“God yes, Cas. I did. Missed you so much it hurt sometimes. I just… I couldn’t. Thought about it a few times, even bought a plane ticket once.” He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Just couldn’t make myself get on the flight. After the fire, after John…”
Dean focused all of his energy into sending his affection to Cas, unable to talk around the lump in his throat. He was out of practice at telegraphing his emotions clearly the way he’d so easily been able to with Cas before. But he needed Cas to know his words were true, that if it hadn’t been for his fear he would have been here much sooner.
He sucked in a breath as Cas floated closer, wrapping him in a misty hug. Oh, little one. I always hoped you’d been able to find a new life away from him, even if it didn’t include me.
“Yeah, well…” Dean swallowed hard. “I should have been brave enough to stick it out, to come back for you. Especially since I wasn’t sure if the fire… if whatever you are could survive it.”
Cas shuddered in an imitation of a sigh. I never expected that of you. You were so brave to leave in the first place, so brave to stand up for yourself. Fire cannot kill me, little one. And if it did, then it would have been a most honorable sacrifice to ensure you set yourself free.
God, he always knew just what to say. Dean ran his hand through Cas, leaving a bright blue trail in his wake. “I’m here now. I’m going to rebuild this whole place, I swear. I won’t leave you again.”
Castiel chirped as he pulled away from Dean, forgetting his customary English translation for Dean’s benefit. He swirled into a sparkling blue tornado that reminded Dean of a photo of the Milky Way galaxy he'd seen in a book when he was a child.
Dean laughed as he watched Cas dance. He wasn’t sure if the surge of joy was his or Castiel’s. “Sure, you’re happy now, give it a few days. You might want the place all to yourself again. I’m not the best roommate.”
Castiel stopped swirling. In an instant he was at Dean’s side, wrapping himself around his shoulders like a weighted blanket. Dean sighed, closing his eyes and allowing Cas to relax his muscles. Every last bit of tension left his shoulders, replaced by a warm glow. He could stay here forever, ignoring the world outside of this moment with Cas.
Never, little one. I never want to be alone again.