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Chapter Text

Dean ran to the curtains, pulling them back. He saw the tail-end of Sam, barely peeking out from behind the flower pot, and smirked. He turned away to grab his cup of water, holding it lightly in his hand. “Come on out, Sammy. Can’t hide from me forever,” he called, as he crept his way back to Sam.

Slowly, he pulled the curtain aside, seeing Sam still there. Without another thought, he threw the water at the guinea pig, shocking him out of his hiding spot. Dean laughed wholeheartedly, even as Sam shrieked. That was uncalled for, and you know it!

Dean just grinned harder. “Oh come on, Sammy. Were your delicate feelings hurt over a bit of water?” Sam didn’t respond to him, just stuck out his tongue at him and ran into the shadows, actually hiding this time, somehow effectively avoiding Dean. “Aw, I didn’t mean it. We can do whatever you want to do to make up for you failing to hide properly.”

Sam popped out from across the room, heading towards the window. He climbed the tassel and looked outside pointedly. We could always go out. Care for an adventure? Dean just rolled his eyes, sitting beside Sam on the window sill, his legs dangling out over the ledge. “You and I both know the answer to that question,” he said dejectedly, just looking at the world around him.

Days like this, when his father was out, it made it easier for Dean to imagine what it would be like to finally leave his tower; to go and see the capital. He could just forget what his father taught him about the monsters in the world and pretend that it wouldn’t be a nightmare out there. He hated how beautiful it all looked, how he craved it, despite every warning his father told him ringing in his head that the world was corrupted. He didn’t care if he was safe in the tower – he just wanted to go and see it for himself.

Knowing nothing good ever came from that train of thought, Dean smiled at Sam. “Did I ever tell you that you look like something threw up a wet furball?”

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. Jerk. “Bitch.” He laughed, spinning back inside, grabbing the guinea pig as he went, placing Sam on his shoulder. “Let’s go have some more fun inside, alright? Maybe I can find a whole bucket of water this time for you.”

They walked to the kitchen, where Dean had made some bread earlier. Last time you had a plan with a bucket of water in it, you tripped down the stairs and tried to dry the floor with one of your father's socks, Sam quipped at him.

He put Sam down on the table, grabbing a slice of bread for himself. “Oh yeah? Well, you-,” Dean started but he struggled to come up with anything to say in return. He didn’t need a reminder of that incident. Sam looked at him, obviously pleased with himself for bringing it up. “Shut up,” he huffed, biting into his food.

As they continued on with their day, doing chores and other activities between the two of them, Dean snuck glances at the window periodically, thinking about the world beyond his tower – wondering when his life would finally begin.

Chapter Text

Castiel slid down the pillar of the castle’s tower, Lucifer and Michael following closely behind him. His years of sneaking into the castle as a kid had paid off, as they were able to find a way onto the property without being spotted. Now though, they had the harder part – getting the amulet and making it out alive.

As they leapt across the stone roofs, he felt the adrenaline starting to course through his veins. He was the one grabbing the heirloom while his brothers kept the rope secured. Not the plan he would have preferred, but Lucifer and Michael outvoted him.

From what they knew, the heirloom was in the treasury. The item hadn’t been touched in years, since the prince’s accident. Castiel’s breath seized at the thought, but there was no time to dwell on that.

Choosing their vantage point at the roof, the brothers threw a rope down the hole they had created earlier, making sure the length was long enough to reach the floor. “Alright, Castiel. You know the plan. Get in, grab the heirloom, and-,” Michael started.

“And pull the rope twice and you will pull me up, I am aware,” he snapped. He was more than aware of their plan, considering he was the one who had to pull off most of it.

Michael frowned at him, while Lucifer’s eyes glinted, his lips pulling upwards. “Careful, Castiel, or we may end up accidentally leaving you here,” Lucifer threatened, waiting for another excuse to get rid of him.

Castiel began his descent down the rope, ignoring his brother’s comment. They all knew he was too valuable leave behind, which he was grateful for, but it still didn’t make him feel any better about his predicament.

He fell to the ground of the treasury gracefully, making sure to keep quiet. He looked around, just to make sure no one was waiting for him. If so, he was screwed. Thankfully though, the room was clear. If he had to guess though, there would be guards outside the door, so he had to be quick and careful.

Looking around, everything seemed to stand out in the room. If he had the time, he would stick around to examine more of the items in the room, because everything was highly valuable. There were gemstones, crowns from previous rulers, a variety of different articles of clothing that were worth more than his year’s worth of supplies, and a number of other things easy to steal.

However, his eyes were on the pedestal placed off to the side of the room by itself. On the small pillar was the prince’s amulet, laying on a pillow. Castiel walked carefully up to it, reading the inscription carved into the stone pillar. Prince Henry Winchester. Beloved son of Mary and John Winchester. May he rest in peace in paradise.

Castiel snorted at the inscription. He really didn’t know what else they could have written for the late prince without being very personal, but that sounded superficial even to himself.

Commotion caught his attention outside the doors to the treasury. He shot his head in that direction, knowing his time was running out. He grabbed the amulet and shoved it into his bag, before he ran back to the rope, his prize secured, and pulled twice.

He held on tightly as his brothers pulled him back up, his heart racing as he heard the doors begin to open. “Sir, I don’t know why you want us to do an inspection right now. I promise you, we checked earlier today, and everything was in order,” someone spoke, talking to their superior. He prayed desperately that they didn’t notice anything amiss at least for a few more minutes.

“The festival is upon us this afternoon. In all the commotion, I feel as if someone might take advantage of the chaos. What better time to steal than when everyone else is distracted?” a voice responded, one he was, unfortunately, familiar with.

Castiel understood the logic entirely. They had originally planned to steal the amulet during the festival, but had decided against it, because he brought up that there may be more security then, to make sure things went smoothly. However, due to his brothers’ inability to keep track of time, it was the morning of the beginning of the festival, and evidently, he had been correct in his assumption about security.

Unfortunately for him, logic seemed to be working against him and his luck ran out. “Sir, the amulet! It’s gone!” the soldier said frantically, as his brothers pulled him out and onto the roof.

“Do you have it?” Michael asked, looking intensely at his bag.

“Of course I have it. Now let’s get going,” he insisted, looking down through the hole only to catch the captain of the guards staring at them, his face hardened in determination.

They started back off the roofs, following their escape route back into the forest. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

“Today’s the day, Sammy. I’m going to do it. I’m finally going to ask him,” Dean announced to the guinea pig. His father was due back at any moment, and he decided that it was as good a time as any to ask.

“Dean!” he heard his father call. He straightened, feeling an odd excitement in his stomach. He turned to Sammy and grinned.

“Wish me luck,” he whispered, before going to the window. He set the rope into place and lowered it down for his father. He felt the familiar weight on the rope and pulled, stepping back in his weight and heaving his father up.

Dean was breathing a bit heavier when his father reached the window sill. “Welcome home, Father,” he greeted, making sure not to pant. His father never appreciated it when he seemed exhausted.

“How are you doing, son? Anything new?” he greeted, patting his head as he walked into the tower.

“No, not really. I made some bread while you were gone, but besides that, nothing else is new. Everything was done as asked, and Sammy and I kept out of trouble,” Dean said, getting his father’s chair ready. It was tradition for them. When his father got home from a trip, Dean would heal him from any exhaustion or anything else, and he would tell his father about what happened while he was gone.

His father sat down, smiling. “That’s good to hear, Dean.”

He grabbed his father’s hand, readying himself. “Father, I wanted to ask you something,” Dean began, making sure he had time to prepare himself as he healed his father. Closing his eyes, he focused and concentrated on any of the greying hairs on his father’s head and wrinkles around his face.

Finished, Dean opened his eyes, seeing his father looking well and youthful again. He raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course, son. What do you want to ask?”

Dean bit his lip, looking at Sam from the side of the room, before carefully choosing his words. “Well, as you know, my birthday is coming up and I’ll be turning 25,” he started.

His father clapped his hand in his own, giving it a squeeze. “I know. It’s exciting, isn’t it? I remember when I was 25. You know, back then, there were no-,” his father said, beginning a story.

“Right, so I’ll be turning 25 and I want to do something special this year,” he interrupted, knowing if his father kept talking, he would never be able to ask.

The grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly, his only acknowledgement that his father heard. “I was thinking, since it is a special occasion, I could take a trip to-,” he tried but his father ignored him.

“Dean? Take a trip? What kind of nonsense are you talking about? It is dangerous enough for me to leave you by yourself, but for you to go on a trip? You’re way too fragile for the world,” his father chided, his grip tightening.

“Father, I’m not a child anymore. I can handle myself,” he retorted, hating that his father still didn’t believe in him.

His father scoffed, mockingly. “Oh, well since you say so, I feel so much better now.” He narrowed his eyes at him. “Honestly Dean. How many times do we have to go over this? You’re not safe out there, and therefore, not leaving.”

Dean knew it was his reality but it still stung to hear his father say it. “But if you would just trust me,” he tried, wanting to make his father understand.

His father’s grip on his hand was near painful now. “We’re done talking about this, Dean.”

“Please, just listen to me.”

“Stop it, Dean. Now.” He rarely got orders from his father anymore, but he still recognized the tone, but he needed to ask.

“If I could just take a trip to the c-,” he said quickly, before his father yanked him forward harshly, his nails digging into flesh, staring him down. Dean gulped, seeing wrath in his eyes.

“What were you going to ask, Dean? Were you going to ask to take a trip to the capital?” his father asked, his voice low and threatening. There was a challenge in his words, daring Dean to continue. He glanced at the window, before he deflated before his father.

“No sir,” he muttered, his voice barely carrying.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” his father tested, seeing just how far he was willing to push.

Dean sat up straight, looking into his father’s eyes. “No sir,” he said again, this time louder and stronger.

His father sighed, leaning back in his chair and letting go of him. Dean pulled back quickly, clutching his hand in his lap. He was going to need to heal the bruises later. “Why are you always making me the bad guy?” his father asked, not looking at him.

Dean looked down, ashamed. He knew his father was just trying to keep him safe, and instead of being a good son, he was just putting strain on him. He thought about what he could say, but no words came that didn’t sound like excuses.

Keeping his voice soft, Dean tried a different question. “I was going to say, if I could take a trip to the kitchen and check what spices we have. We ran out of cinnamon in the bread, and I think nutmeg as well. I was wondering if you could get me some more for my birthday, so I can make some more bread for us.”

His father turned to face Dean, his eyebrows raising. “Is that all you were going to ask?”

He clenched his fists together. “Yes, that’s all,” he forced himself to say, avoiding the way Sam was looking at him from the corner of the room.

His father grinned, back to his jovial self just like that. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place? Of course I can get some spices for you. Just put a list together and I can be gone in an hour or so, so I’ll be back for your birthday.” His father got up, patting him on the head as he went to his room to get ready.

Dean dragged himself on his feet, walking to the kitchen. He pressed his hands into the counter and closed his eyes, taking steadying breaths. Dean? Sam squeaked, coming up to lean against his foot.

“It’s alright, Sammy. We knew it was just a dream anyhow. Nothing more,” he said quietly, his grip tightening on the edge of the counter, keeping himself from punching a cupboard.

That’s what Dean kept telling himself for the rest of the day at least. Going to see the capital was only a dream.

Even as his father packed up his things, getting ready to go on his trip. Only a dream.

Even as he took the list of spices from Dean, as well as some bread for the journey. Only a dream.

Even as his father said goodbye and left the tower, leaving Dean to stare out his window at the valley around him, healing the bruises on his hand. Only a dream.

When would it stop being a dream?

Chapter Text

They had to move quickly from the castle. Even though it was early morning when they stole the amulet, with the sun barely high in the sky, the guards were hot on their heels the entire day, making their way into the forest, leaving them with no breaks, even as the dark of nighttime consumed them. There was barely anytime to sleep through the night, the threat of the guards always present.

It wasn’t long in the morning before they were up and running again. By the time they stopped to catch a breath, Castiel was panting. There had been far too much running in a short period of time.

“Aw, I’m only worth 100 gold pieces? I thought it’d be at least 150 by now,” Lucifer whined, looking at a tree beside them. Castiel glanced over, seeing their wanted posters hanging from the tree. He looked between the three of them, at their aliases.

There was Michael, better known as Adam Milligan, wanted for 100 gold pieces for robbery and treason, dead or alive. Lucifer, or to the world, Nick Morningstar. Why he had chosen that as his surname, Castiel did not know. But it was the same crime and reward. And then there was his own poster – Jimmy Shurley. He ripped it off the tree, shoving it in his bag. He didn’t want to look at the sketch of his face, nor did he want others seeing it.

Castiel flinched as he heard voices behind him. They turned to see the guards up on a steep ledge behind them, trying to find the easiest way to get to them. He sighed as their break was over, starting to run again. “This is your fault, Castiel. If you had gone quicker, then they would have never known we were here,” Michael accused, as they sprinted through the forest.

“Maybe it wasn’t my abilities to be doubted,” Castiel grumbled, hastily dodging trees.

“What is that supposed to mean?” his brother asked, his tone irritated.

He rolled his eyes, veering with them as Lucifer chose a new direction to run in. “I am not necessarily to blame. You were the ones to pull me up. If you two had gone quicker, then maybe-,” he started.

Quicker than he was prepared for, Lucifer had him pinned against a tree, as Michael stopped running, turning to glare at him. “Keep goading him, Castiel. I want to have some fun today. I’d still prefer an execution of some sort, but it’s up to Michael,” Lucifer taunted, smiling.

As always, Michael was the leader of their group, giving the orders, but he left all the physical work to Lucifer, who delighted in it. As it was, he was currently having his windpipe crushed by his brother’s forearm.

“Well, Castiel. Since you think that it was our fault for not pulling you up quick enough, now is your chance,” Michael announced, gesturing at them. Lucifer released him and he rubbed his throat, throwing a glare at both of his brothers, before coming to understanding with Michael’s words.

They were face-to-face with a small cliffside, trapped in a small gully. “Seeing as you evidently have much better skills than us at pulling people up, you’ll go up first and pull us up,” Michael said, standing against the base of the cliff. Lucifer climbed on top of his shoulders, standing up. With his height, he’d reach the top without any issue.

Not having the energy to argue, Castiel slowly climbed over his brothers’ backs. If he happened to step on Michael’s face or kick Lucifer in the back when he was climbing, it was his own business.

Stretching, he reached the top of the cliff. Castiel looked back over the gully, warily watching Lucifer’s outstretched hand. He clutched the satchel tightly in his hand; the amulet still safe. His head turned up at the sound of horses approaching before turning back to two of them. “Well? What are you waiting for, Castiel? Help us up,” Michael griped, who still had Lucifer standing on his shoulders.

He bit his cheek for a moment before making his decision. This was his chance to escape, with the treasure intact. “I apologize brothers, but my hands are full,” Castiel said quickly before sprinting away, as the horses got closer. He heard Michael yell his name, cursing him, but he didn’t turn back to check, before the guards were already on his heels.

He turned his head briefly to see the captain, Gordon Walker, and second-in-command, Bobby Singer, hot on his trail. He rolled his eyes, cursing internally, as he dodged arrows being shot at him.

“Retrieve that satchel at all costs!” Castiel heard Gordon yell. He just kept running, seeing an opportunity up ahead, where a large tree had fallen over and blocked most of the path. He slipped underneath one of the branches, narrowly avoiding an arrow that embedded itself in the wood.

Castiel turned suddenly, knowing that there should be a large cliff in that direction, if he had any semblance of where he was in the woods. Hopefully, he’d be able to find a way down without killing himself in the process. He heard a bunch of disgruntled shouts of anger behind him and he knew that at least some of the soldiers had gotten their horses stuck by the tree.

“After him, Singer!” the captain ordered, and Castiel sighed. That meant that Bobby had managed to get past it.

“Get back here, Shurley,” Bobby called after him. Castiel dared a glance back, just to see how screwed he was. Thankfully, it seemed that only the one man had made it through, without his horse. He was chasing after Castiel on foot. Good, that meant they were evenly matched, minus the fact that one of them had a weapon, and it was not himself.

Soon, Castiel found himself at the edge of the cliffside, with only a thick log protruding out of the rocky terrain, its roots breaking apart from the rocks. He looked around, trying to find the best way down the sheer edge, but every angle was a steep drop. There weren’t any good footholds to support himself either, if he were to climb. He was trapped.

He turned around, as Bobby caught up to him, holding a hand out placatingly. “Stop right there, boy, and make this easier on the both of us, wouldja? Just give me the bag and come quietly,” Bobby said pleadingly, trying to get him to give in.

Castiel clutched the satchel tighter, taking a small step backwards. “I’m afraid I can’t do that Bobby.” Gathering his courage, he jumped onto the log, carefully walking across to the tip. It teetered slightly, but held him steady.

Bobby made an exasperated sound, running a hand through the little hair he had left. “Dammit boy, I’m trying to help you. Now, we’re both going to have a bad day.”

Castiel was surprised to see the older man march right after him onto the tree. The entire thing shook with the added weight, sending him off balance as his footing slipped. Suddenly, air was flying past him as he started to fall. He only barely managed to grab onto one of the thin branches at the tip of the tree, hanging on for dear life over the drop below. He didn’t even know how the branch held his weight, but he was grateful all the same.

Bobby kneeled down on the thick trunk, extending a hand to him. “Come on, kid. Just let me take you in. It’ll be easier on the both of us,” he tried, one more time. Castiel merely shook his head, ignoring the offered hand, as he heard an audible snap and crumble, feeling the log tip downwards slightly.

“Bobby, don’t move,” he ordered hastily, his attention drawn to where the tree had started creak in the cliffside.

To his credit, the older soldier did as he was told, keeping his position, hand still outstretched. “Yeah boy, I heard it too. How bad are we looking?” Castiel didn’t know what to tell him. He could see the roots starting to come out of the rocky hill, dirt filling the air, and his hope was dwindling by the second.

“The good news is that-,” Castiel started before the dirt particles reached his nose, assaulting his senses. He sniffed quickly; his nose suddenly overwhelmed by the dust.

“I swear, Shurley, if you sneeze right now,” Bobby threatened, giving him a glare.

Castiel squeezed up his face, trying to quell the urge to sneeze and send them both tumbling down the cliff. “I’m doing my best,” he assured, getting his nose under control.

The sensation disappeared, and Castiel breathed normally again. Bobby raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “See? I told you. Everything is under con-,” he began, but never finished. The need to sneeze overtook him suddenly and forcefully, giving him no time to stop.

Castiel sneezed, shaking himself and the tree. There was another loud crack, and the tree shifted violently, arching downwards. “Balls!” was the only word Castiel heard from Bobby before suddenly, the world was moving as the tree wrenched itself out of the cliff, dragging the two of them with it. He didn’t know who was screaming – himself or Bobby – as they hurtled towards the ground.

Castiel was abruptly tossed through the air, as the log hit a rock protruding out of the side, sending him hurtling. He flew through the air, keeping a strong grip on his satchel, before he hit the ground roughly, the wind knocked out of him. He laid there dazed, staring up at the sky, as he moved each limb, testing out any injuries. Nothing was broken, which he was extremely thankful for, but he was going to have some major bruising.

Slowly, he stood, taking in his surroundings. He didn’t remember being in this part of the forest before, not that he would be able to identify it having fallen down into the middle of nowhere. Though he knew the majority, this was certainly a new place. There was a large boulder with vines growing down overtop of it, in a canopy of trees, filling him with a tranquil sense. It was quite lovely actually; at least it would have been if he wasn’t on the run for his life.

“Shurley, you alive?” He heard Bobby yell, not too far from where he was. “If so, I’m going to whoop your ass into next year for that stunt, ya hear?” Castiel bit his lip, not knowing exactly where the voice came from. He leaned his weight on the boulder, trying to come up with a plan, when suddenly, he fell through the vines.

He gasped, recovering from his small stumble, as there was a hidden pathway, protected from view for anyone walking by. Looking around quickly, Castiel crept through the vines, trying not to disturb them too much, in case Bobby was close by and would see them moving. The pathway was a little cavern, with enough light coming from the other side that he could still see for the most part.

When he reached the end though, Castiel was astonished. He was standing inside a beautiful gorge in the land, surrounded on all sides by rocky cliffs, with a large stream running through it. This was most certainly an undiscovered area of the forest. However, what shocked him most was the tower. In the center of the canyon was a stone tower, with plants and vines growing all over the side. When it had first been built, he would have guessed it was beautiful. Now, it looked like it had been abandoned for years.

“Kid? You out here?” Bobby called, sounding closer than he had been a few minutes ago. Taking his chances with the tower, Castiel walked to the base and looked up. There were open shutters at the top and he smiled, appreciating his luck. Whoever had been here last, however long ago, had left them open. He couldn’t imagine what the inside would look like after years of decay, but any hiding place was better than none.

Finding holds in between the stones, Castiel dug his fingers into the crevices, anchoring himself into the material. Making sure he was secure in the stones, he began his climb up the tower.

Chapter Text

Dean didn’t have much energy to do anything the rest of the day after his father left. It was fairly uneventful, with Sam trying to get him to do something. He reread his books, even though he had every page memorized, just to make the time go by.

The night passed the same, and Dean gladly welcomed whatever sleep he could get.

The morning was quite beautiful when he awoke. There was barely a cloud in the sky and it made him feel joyful. The sleep had done wonders for him, even if he felt starving. Had he forgotten to eat last night?

“Morning Sammy,” Dean called out, rolling out the joints in his shoulders. The guinea pig was usually somewhere throughout the tower by the time he woke up, and today was no different. He got dressed for the day, ready to eat something nice for breakfast.

Remembering he had made bread the day before, Dean smiled, knowing he had a good breakfast ahead of him. As he walked down the stairs, there was Sam on the table, chewing on a lettuce leaf. Where he had gotten that from, Dean didn’t know.

“Careful Sam. Vegetables can’t be trusted,” he teased, pulling some bread for himself as well as an apple. He walked to the table and sat down with a smirk, as Sam narrowed his eyes. You say that as if you’ve ever eaten a vegetable.

Dean took a large bite of his apple, pointing a finger at Sam. “I’ll have you know; I ate some lettuce once. Sick for a week afterwards. Never again,” he said, pretending to retch.

Poor thing, Sam mocked, nibbling on his lettuce. “Bitch.” Jerk. If he hadn’t been hungry, he would have thrown his apple at Sammy.

Dean continued his meal mainly in silence, his stomach thanking him for eating something finally. He had just finished his bread and was about to ask Sam if he wanted some fried guinea pig on the side to go with his lettuce, just to irritate him, but sat up straight as he heard a noise coming from outside his window; similar to a grunt.

His father always called his name before asking for the rope. Birds rarely got close enough to the tower, and when they did, they were never near as loud as this huffing sound. No other animals tried to climb the tower. As the noise got steadily louder, Dean froze as the reality of his situation hit him. He didn’t have any weapons on him and had no idea what was out there. He quickly scanned the room for anything he could use in self-defense. His eyes landed on the frying pan, the one he was going to use as part of his joke to Sam, and shrugged to himself. It would have to do.

He grabbed the pan and ran as quickly, and as quietly, as he could, hiding behind the window shutters. Whatever was there was in for a treat.

Dean saw from his hiding place two legs appear over the sill and heard a loud groan. He didn’t even think. He stepped around the shutter and hit the figure over the head with the pan, watching the figure collapse instantly.

As Dean looked over the figure laying on the ground, unmoving, he had a sudden dip in his chest. What if he accidentally killed whoever it was?

Sam climbed down from the table and popped into his view, looking at the still body, also trying to decipher it. At his little shrug, Dean decided to investigate. Steeling himself, he flipped the figure onto its side.

He was confused. It was… a man? Another person. At least it looked like it. But he thought his father told him that they were the only ones left?

The could-possibly-be-a-man-but-Dean-did-not-trust-it-for-a-second had thick dark hair, seeming to be untameable. He was wearing a white tunic with a blue vest over top, in beige pants with brown leather boots up to his knees. He also had a bag of some sort slung over his shoulder. From what Dean could tell, he looked about his age, possibly a couple years older, but he knew that looks could be deceiving.

Sam curled his lips, baring his teeth. Vamp, maybe? Dean supposed he was right. If it was a vampire, that would explain the young appearance. Slowly, waiting for a reaction from the body, Dean used his finger and lifted the man’s lip. To his surprise, there were no fangs. Just regular human teeth.

Staring over the man’s body, in both confusion and awe, Dean couldn’t help being fascinated yet frustrated. What did this mean? Why was there another person here, of all places? Did the man learn of his powers and come to take him away?

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the man begin to stir. “Ugh,” the man groaned. “What the-,” he started.

Dean’s reflexes kicked in. He smacked the frying pan over the man’s head again, effectively knocking him out. He felt his heartbeat begin to climb, the adrenaline of meeting someone else for the first time hitting him. “Uh Sammy, I think we have a problem.” Sam gave him a look. No kidding. Dean rolled his eyes. What to do with the man? Or possibly creature, as he still had to run his tests.

An idea formed in his head. He ran over to the old storage closet, rummaging through the items. Finally, in the corner, he found some rope. He held it in his hands and looked to Sam, who just gave him a quizzical snort. “You ready to tie someone up?”

He set the rope beside the post in the centre of the room and walked back to the body, careful to make sure that the man-creature was not waking up anytime soon. Hoisting him up under the arms, Dean dragged the body across the ground, leaning his back against the pillar. Curious, Dean took the bag that had been slung over the man’s body and put it on the chair beside him, knowing he was going to look in it shortly.

Grabbing the rope, Dean yanked the man’s arms behind the pillar and tied his wrists together, making sure the knot was tightly secured, just like his father taught him. Just to be safe, he tied the man’s ankles as well. He didn’t know how strong the creature might be and didn’t want to take any chances. If he could break out of his bonds, at least he might be slowed down while trying to get his feet in order.

Looking more closely, Dean saw blood coming from the side of the man’s head. He looked to Sam and shrugged. “Guess I hit him harder than I thought, huh?” Sam only widened his eyes. You think? He stuck his tongue out at the rodent. “Shut up.”

Closing his eyes, he touched the man’s head. In his mind, he imagined the wound closing up, with no damage to his skull or brain. As Dean opened his eyes, he watched the skin knit back together, no sign of injury having been there. He took a cloth from the counter and wiped the remaining blood off his face, so he would be none the wiser when he came back to consciousness.

Figuring now was as good a time as any before his new captive woke up, Dean shuffled to the chair, eagerly wanting to see what was in the bag. He pulled out a sheet of paper with a sketch of the man’s face on it. Dean snorted looking at the portrait. The ears were much too large to be the same man currently tied to his post. He read the sheet:

“Wanted: Jimmy Shurley. 100 Gold Pieces. Dead or Alive.”

So. It seemed that the man-creature was a criminal, one who was wanted even when humans no longer existed. Just another reason for him to be wary.

Apart from the sketch of his face, the only other thing that the man had in his bag was a strange necklace, from what Dean could tell. It only had one jewel on it, and it looked like a carving of some sort. He stared at the carving, wondered what kind of value it had for a thief to be keeping it, but put it away.

Time for his tests. Grabbing the flask of holy water his father kept in the cupboard, he opened the cover and splashed some at his captive. The man-creature didn’t even flinch or steam at all, like his father told him a demon would. He just remained unconscious.

Dean ran to the kitchen drawer, grabbing the silver spoon they kept there. To anyone else, it was just a normal spoon, but he and his father both knew it was pure. It would burn the skin, but Dean could just heal it afterwards. However, as he bent down, placing the spoon against the man’s arm, nothing happened.

He sat back, frowning, as he didn’t understand. What was the man-creature? Why did he not react to things? It didn’t make sense to him. However, he didn’t have time to dwell on that, as the man seemed to begin to stir.  It was time to talk to the man-creature and get some answers.

Realizing he had left it in the open, Dean quickly threw the bag in a pot in the corner of the room and waited for the man to wake.

Chapter Text

Castiel groaned when he woke up, his eyes feeling like lead. He had such a weird dream. He vividly remembered climbing a tower and then something strong and heavy hitting his head. It had felt so real and -.

Castiel tried shuffling his arms but they wouldn’t budge, seemingly stuck behind him. He shifted his legs to find them in a similar condition. He tried to steady his breathing, as he feared the worst. If this was Lucifer and Michael’s doing, he knew he was in trouble. If it was the royal guards, he had much bigger issues at hand.

He slowly opened his eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. He blinked rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the light. As he took in his surroundings and turned his head around the room, his frown deepened. He was pretty sure that he was still in the tower from earlier, from the brief glimpse he got when he first pulled himself through the window. But he had thought it was abandoned?

A cough from the corner of the room drew his attention. He swiveled his head around, only to be looking into shadows. “I’ll make this easy for you. Just tell me what you are and how you found me,” a deep voice said.

Castiel still couldn’t make out where the voice was coming from. “Pardon?” he asked, still not fully aware what was happening or who was there.

A figure walked out of the shadows and Castiel blinked in awe. A man appeared before him with golden-brown hair, a chiseled jaw, and a lean build. His face was dusted with freckles, giving him a cute look. But what took Castiel’s breath away were the man’s eyes. They were a beautiful emerald green, like a fresh field in the middle of spring. As he shifted on his feet before him, the colors shifted to a darker pine, and then to a lighter shade. With the stranger looking at him both determined yet curious, Castiel could only stare. He hadn’t seen such brilliant eyes in many years.

“I’ll try this again. What are you, and how did you find me?” the man growled. His momentary distraction by the man’s appearance was cut short, as his words brought Castiel back to reality.

He cleared his throat. “My name is Jimmy Shurley. And you are?” he asked.

The man rolled his eyes. “I know who you are. I asked what you are.” He tried to not show his shock about how and why this man knew who he was. He watched as the man began to circle Castiel, doing his best to keep an eye on the stranger with his restricted movements.

“Do you mean occupation? Because if so, I’ll have you know that I am a philanthropist... of sorts,” Castiel explained. He cringed inwardly. It sounded better than ‘I’m a wanted criminal throughout the land’.

The stranger stopped in front of him and glared. “What kind of creature are you?” Castiel tilted his head in confusion. Creature?

“I assure you, I don’t- “, he started but was quickly cut off.

“Cut the crap, alright? I know you’re not a vamp, because you don’t have any fangs. Holy water didn’t work, so not a demon. Thought maybe you could be a shapeshifter but didn’t react to silver either. So, what are you?”

He couldn’t help but bristle at the tone of voice. Though the man’s eyes still seemed curious, his tone was bitter and laced with venom. But also, what did he mean, Castiel didn’t react to holy water or silver? Was he supposed to react to either?

He calmed his heart, trying not to show any sort of emotion. “I am being truthful when I say that I am human, just as you are. To answer your earlier question, I did not mean to find you. I just happened to be in the woods when I saw your tower and needed to rest a little, so I climbed it, and then you- “, Castiel’s eyes narrowed on the weapon in the man’s hand. “You attacked me? With a frying pan?”

The man chuckled. “Random stranger broke into my home suddenly and caught me off guard. Frying pan was the closest thing I could find. Would you have preferred I had used a sword?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. His captor pulled a chair in front of him and sat down. He stared at Castiel with such curiosity, it was frankly strange. “I still don’t understand though. Why would you lie and say you’re human? There are none left besides my father and me.”

Castiel almost laughed. Of course, he climbed the one ‘abandoned’ tower with a lunatic inside. He had lived through several injuries, being chased by guards, and every other obstacle in his path, but could very well be killed by some random man he stumbled upon.

Instead, he kept his composure. “Of course, I am human. And of course, there are more of us. Why on earth would there only be the two of you? That would be absurd.”

For half a second, he thought he saw the stranger’s face fall before it fell back into his mask of neutrality. He stared at Castiel and all he could do in return was stare at those alluring green eyes. Suddenly, the stranger started laughing, causing Castiel to grow wary. Either that meant things were looking up, or they were going downhill very quickly.

“Of course, you’re human. I was just messing with you. Needed to make sure I could count on you. Now, seeing as that is covered, I need you to do something for me,” the man explained, which only made Castiel more confused than he had already been. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the area and I need a guide to the capital. You will act as my guide, bring me to the capital, and then bring me back here.”

Castiel only frowned. “And why would I help you? Seeing as you clearly know who I am while I still know nothing about you, and you’ve done nothing but tie me up, I’d say you’re not exactly winning me over very quickly.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and he smiled. “Well, you see. I happened to stumble upon your little bag when you were taking a snooze earlier. I may or may not know where it is, but I can only remember if you take me on this trip.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, remembering the entire reason he was on the run earlier, before he glared at the man. Downhill. Things were going downhill very quickly. “Where is my satchel? That is very important to me.” He sneered at the stranger, pulling at the binds around his wrists as much as he could. “If you’ve done anything to it, I swear- “.

The man waved him off. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It’s only hidden. Somewhere you’ll never find it.” Castiel glanced around the room briefly, scanning the area. His eyes landed on a small urn of some sort.

“It’s in that pot, isn’t it?” Castiel suggested, gesturing to the pot with his head. He saw the man’s eyes widen for a split second before he raised the frying pan, stepping towards Castiel. The next thing he knew was darkness.

A burst of cold against his face brought Castiel to consciousness. He fought a small gasp as he felt the water trickle down his face, onto his chest. He opened his eyes to see his captor staring at him once again, that ever-present smirk still sitting on his face, as he put his cup down on the table. He glared up at the man, his anger rising by the second, especially now that he was soaked.

“Now, it’s hidden somewhere you’ll never find it. Nothing’s happened to it though.  And nothing will happen to it, assuming you take me to the capital and back.” Castiel clenched his jaw. “Look, I’m an honest man. Bring me on this journey and I will give you the satchel back just as it was, as if none of this ever happened. I promise. And I don’t go back on my promises.”

“And if I refuse?” Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow, challenging the man before him.

“Then the palace guards may learn that a certain fugitive has been found tied up in a certain tower with what I can only assume is a stolen artifact from someone. It’d be a real shame if that were to happen, wouldn’t it?” The man’s eyes glinted with mischief. Castiel stared up at him, seeing the sincerity in his gaze, despite the amusement.

He sighed, clenching his jaw. “This is blackmail,” Castiel muttered under his breath, looking down at himself. He pulled against the restraints one more time with all his might, one final attempt to get out of there. To his dismay though, they were too tight. There was no way he was getting out of this on his own. The best he could do would be to help this crazy man with his psychotic endeavor and then strangle him get his satchel back.

He glared into the man’s face and snarled. “Fine, I’ll take you to the capital and back in exchange for my satchel. We have a deal.”

The stranger’s face lit up. “Awesome,” he exclaimed. He dropped the frying pan and went behind the pillar, loosening the bonds around Castiel’s wrists. With the ropes gone, he flexed his arms, stretching his joints. He rubbed his wrists carefully, where the material had bitten into his flesh.

He undid the rope around his ankles and carefully stood, blood rushing back to his feet. Beside him, his captor continued to grin like an idiot. Unable to help himself, Castiel tackled the man to the ground. It was barely even a struggle. He pushed the man’s back to the floor, receiving a small ‘oomph’ from him. He pressed his forearm to the man’s throat, looking directly into his eyes with as much hatred as he could muster. “What’s to keep me from leaving you now and taking my satchel with me?”

The stranger smiled, despite the pressure against his neck, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He pressed harder on the stranger’s neck and the smile dampened slightly, as the man beneath him tried to take a breath. “Aw, come on sweetheart. I’m the only one who knows where that bag is, and without me, you will never find it again,” he reasoned in a singsong voice, even if it sounded forced. How could Castiel have just met this man and be absolutely infuriated with him in such a short amount of time?

Castiel curled his lip at the man, his distaste for the situation absolutely radiating off of him in waves. He reluctantly removed his arm from the man’s throat, forcing himself up. “Don’t call me that. Pack your things. We’re leaving now.” He turned away from the stranger, not waiting to see his reaction. He just waited by the window sill while the man got whatever he would need together.

In less than 5 minutes, the man had put together a small bag of supplies for himself, including the frying pan. “In case you think of doing any funny business,” he had explained to Castiel, to which he could only sigh. It was going to be a long walk to the capital. The man refused to put on shoes, preferring to be barefoot, which was strange to him, but at least, he seemed ready for the journey besides that.

Looking out the window to make sure he could find the footholds again in the stone, Castiel turned to the stranger. “Since we’re going to be spending such quality time together,” he started with dripping sarcasm, “do I get the pleasure of knowing your name?”

The man seemed to hesitate for a second. “Dean.”

“Well, Dean, get ready for a fun journey ahead,” Castiel said, with forced enthusiasm. He began his trek down the side of the tower, no easier than getting up. How did his life end up in this mess? “Assbutt,” he murmured under his breath, quiet enough that he thought only he would hear.

A stunned chuckle told him he hadn’t been quiet enough.

Chapter Text

Dean looked out over the window sill. Jimmy had already gotten halfway down the tower, which was a feat in itself, considering he refused to use the rope, while Dean remained frozen in place. What was he doing? This was crazy. Was he actually going to leave the tower for once?

Jimmy looked up from him on his climb down. “You coming, Dean?” he yelled up, continuing his climb. Dean only tightened his grip on the rope in his hands. He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t do it. All of his confidence that he’d had forcing the thief into this adventure disappeared into thin air.? Was he really leaving his home? Could he really do this? There was no turning back if he left. Once he saw the world, would he ever be the same; satisfied with what his life in the tower had to offer?

And his father. What would his father say if he found out, no, when he found out? What would Dean say to him to make it okay? That he went to the capital by himself to see the people, assuming humans did exist? That he disobeyed his father’s direct order. It was too much to handle. There was no way that –.

A small squeak shattered his spiraling thoughts. Startled, he looked down at his satchel. Sam poked his head out of the bag, looking up at him with large eyes. You alright? Are we doing this?

Dean took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and gave Sam a small smile. He ruffled his fur and looked back out the window. Determined, he began his descent down the tower. Steadying himself, he took a step down and moved his hand lower on the rope, keeping a firm grip. He was doing this. He was really doing this. He took his time climbing down, the strain on his arms beginning to burn but he couldn’t slip up.

Around halfway down the climb, he spared a glance at the ground and immediately closed his eyes, regretting it. “Note to self, don’t look down,” he muttered. He hated that more than he cared to admit.

Being suspended in the air with only a rope between him and the ground made Dean realize how much he feared heights, at least when he was midair. How he had lived in a tower his whole life and never been afraid before, yet here he was hating looking at the ground, was beyond him.

“Come on, Dean. At this rate, we’re more likely to die of old age than get to the city,” Jimmy exclaimed. Dean gritted his teeth. He may have chosen a really poor guide to go to the capital. That’s what he got for forcing a thief to lead him there. Easy for Jimmy to say, considering he wasn’t the one hanging off the side of the tower.

Dean was nearly at the bottom. That’s what he kept telling himself. Nearly there.

It didn’t help when he heard Jimmy call at him again. “If you’re having second thoughts, you could just climb back up. I assure you it is just as simple as climbing down.” He clenched his jaw, his focus wavering slightly. What if he happened to hit Jimmy in the head with the frying pan when he got to the ground? He’d call it an accident. It’d serve the man right, wiping what Dean could only imagine was amusement straight off his face. He could always heal him afterwards. Just one single swipe and –

His grip slipped. One second, he was holding on to the rope, descending at a normal, if not slow, rate. The next, he was free-falling.

He yelped. His heart shot through his throat as the air passed by him. His first day outside of his tower and he was going to die before he ever got to touch grass. He closed his eyes, praying that he died quickly.

Something sturdy stopped him from hitting the ground. He opened one eye, slowly opening the other to make sure that he was, in fact, alive. He blinked, looking at two blue eyes staring down at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

The sturdiness fell away, as Jimmy’s arms dropped him. He hit the ground with a light thump, slightly dazed from the ordeal. He looked over Dean, his face in a frown. “Next time, try not to fall,” Jimmy said, irritation radiating in his voice, but also, something else Dean couldn’t quite place. He walked away from him, leaving Dean on the ground in confusion.

Dean felt a small nudge at his arm. He looked down at his chest to see Sam nuzzling him. “Yeah. It’s okay, Sammy. I’m fine,” he murmured. Sam ran back down his body, climbing on top of the satchel resting on his thigh. He slowly sat up, clutching his head. He felt a slight headache beginning to form.

He heaved, trying not to throw up. Sam gave him a smug look. Dean glared. “Bitch.” Jerk. Without a second thought, he automatically healed whatever injuries he had sustained, making sure nothing was wrong.

“Is that a guinea pig?” Jimmy asked, suddenly standing beside him. Dean jumped. When did Jimmy even walk towards him again? He looked at Dean with a curious expression. “May I?”

Dean blinked, taking a moment to understand the question, before turned his head towards Sam, looking for his permission. “It’s up to you,” he shrugged. Sam turned towards Jimmy. I’m curious.

“He says ‘Ok’,” Dean explained. Jimmy nodded. Carefully, as if to not startle him, Jimmy slowly reached out his hand to the guinea pig. Dean watched, amused, as Sam slowly sniffed his hand. He climbed onto the outstretched hand, one paw in front of the other.

He tried not to laugh as Jimmy reverently lifted Sam up, giving him a small pet on his back with his other hand. When Sam leaned into the touch and let out a small chirp, Dean snorted. He squeaked again. Not a word. He held up his hands in defeat, deciding it would be wasted breath to fight the guinea pig.

Dean picked himself off the ground and dusted himself off, trying to pick off all the plants he had fallen in. He was covered in dirt, having landed in a muddy patch on the ground.

His breathing stopped as he realized what he was standing on. Grass. He felt grass.

The edge of his mouth quirked up. He wriggled his feet in the dirt beneath him, feeling the grass between his toes.

He couldn’t suppress the bubble of laughter that burst out of him. It was just… he was outside. On the ground. It wasn’t just a dream. He began to walk, not looking where he was going, just feeling free to be outside.

It was real. All real. The softness of the grass beneath his feet was heavenly. He started to run, through the field, through the flowers and stream, without any intention of ever stopping. Dean sprinted around, not paying attention to where he was going, before he tripped, falling to the ground, but he didn’t care. He just rolled on the ground and wondered how people could ever get sick of grass.

He just couldn’t stop grinning. He felt crazy. This was crazy.

Dean didn’t know how long it was until he heard someone’s footsteps walk up to him, crunching against the crisp grass. He scrambled up from his euphoric daze, remembering that Jimmy was still there holding Sam in his hands. Do we need to leave you and the grass alone? Sam mocked.

“Shut up,” Dean snapped, but there was no venom behind it. He was too incredibly thrilled from just being outside.

Jimmy tilted his head at Dean. “I didn’t say…” he started, but seemed to think better of it. He cleared his throat. “Well, we should get a move on to the capital. I don’t know how far we can get today, but it will most likely be a day’s journey minimum, especially if we take more unnecessary stops.”

Dean stood, feeling the bite in those words. Evidently, Jimmy was not happy with the way he had wasted time running around. “Okay. Well, since you’re the expert, lead the way, brilliant guide.” He opened out his arm, gesturing him to begin the trek.

Jimmy scowled as he took a couple of steps forward, but turned back, handing out Sam. “Here is your guinea pig back. Thank you for letting me hold him,” he said, his voice still cold, but genuine.

Dean looked the thief once over, before he put his hands behind his back, shaking his head. “Sammy’s your problem now. He’s been a pain in my ass for years, so now, I’m just waiting until he becomes a pain in yours.” If looks could kill, Dean would be fried from the anger in Sam’s eyes.

Jimmy tilted his head, a frown forming on his face, but he nodded. He put Sam on his shoulder and began to walk through the forest. Dean followed behind.

It wasn’t until the tower was just out of sight that Dean’s excitement dwindled, stopping in his tracks. He looked back at his home, from the entrance of the cave he had seen his father exit through so many times. He was going to see the world, and if Jimmy was to be believed, he was going to see more people. Humans. More people like him. The very thought of it was insane.

His hand dug into his satchel, gripping the cold handle of his frying pan, keeping him grounded. He could do this. He would go to the capital, see the world, and then be back before he knew it. Simple as that.

Steeling himself, Dean continued after Jimmy and Sam, his grip tightening on the frying pan. He was going to capital, whether his nerves could handle it or not.

Chapter Text

Castiel was truly confused. Surely Dean had been outside before, correct? The world wasn’t that exciting, yet he was acting as if everything was completely new to him. The excitement he had when he was running through the field was almost captivating, if not entirely delusional.

He stroked the guinea pig’s, Sam as Dean called him, head, as he walked through the forest, finding the presence on his shoulder soothing. Clearly Dean was insane, which he already knew from inside the tower, but still. The sooner he got that man to the capital, the sooner they could part ways and he would rid himself of his once-captor. However, for the meantime, he was perfectly content with walking with Sam on his shoulder, ignoring his travelling companion.

He truly didn’t know how to deal with the man beside him. Sometimes, Dean seemed to be delighted by the world, fascinated by every single plant they walked near. Other times though, he looked like he would be sick if he were to take another step and needed to stop for a few minutes. Castiel just didn’t understand what to make of him.

Now, being one of the latter times with Dean leaning his head against a tree, Castiel was more than impatient for the end of this journey, wishing it to be over with. Knowing he would probably regret it later but hoping to get Dean out of his stupor, he cleared his throat. “Not that it is any of my business, but you seem to be a bit at war with yourself,” he said casually, hoping to at least know the reasoning behind his companion’s continuously vacillating emotions.

Dean looked like he was pulled out of a dream, his discomfort evident. “It’s nothing. Really. I just… I didn’t tell my father I was leaving,” he admitted, before quickly shrugging. “Not that I need his permission to leave or anything,” he added, too hastily and forced for Castiel to believe it.

Castiel squinted, weighing his next words. If he wanted to get away from Dean as quickly as possible, he was going to have to sabotage their deal somehow. He could use the doubt to his advantage. He softened his voice, trying to sound compassionate. “I understand. Rebellion is not always simple at first, but we all go through it at some point or another. The distrust that follows as a result is completely natural. If I were you, I’d also be worried about losing that trust with my father as well.”

Castiel felt satisfaction as Dean’s face fell and his shoulders slumped, knowing his words had hit hard. He ignored the glimmer of guilt in his gut, instead focusing on retrieving his satchel and getting as far away from the capital, his brothers, and his crazy travelling companion as soon as possible.

“You think he won’t trust me after this?” Dean asked, his voice not quite steady.

Castiel put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, almost comfortingly. Dean tensed under his touch, but he didn’t pay it any mind, continuing to seem genuinely interested, when he really could not care less. “Your relationship, if I had to guess, is based on mutual trust, is it not? Leaving like this will break your father’s heart, but you need to do it,” he reinforced, making sure Dean knew exactly what could happen if they kept going on their journey.

Truly, he was exaggerating by all means. Dean’s father would most likely be cross that he had left without any prior warning, but in the long run, he’d move on from it, as would any guardian. Looking back in his own life, he knew he had done much worse than leave without permission, yet he was always forgiven. But Castiel wasn’t going to tell Dean that. He needed him to believe the worst, if he had any chance at retrieving his prize more swiftly.

Dean didn’t say another word, just stared stoically off into the distance, looking crestfallen. Now was his chance. He sighed, the portrayal of dejection. “I know that it’s difficult, but I think it would be better if I let you out of this deal,” he said softly.

This got Dean’s attention, as he turned his head to Castiel. “What?”

“Think about it. If we go back now, your father never has to learn that you were gone. I won’t say a word and we can continue on with our lives as though none of this happened. You’ll give me my satchel, I’ll leave without a trace, and your relationship with your father based on mutual trust goes on just as it had been. We forget all about this,” he explained, hoping that Dean would listen to his reason, regardless of how flawed it was.

Dean stared at him for a moment, his expression neutral, before the corners of his lips lifted. Castiel frowned. Dean smiling was never a good sign. “You know, you really had me for a second there. Trying to get me to go back home to get your satchel back. You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to get rid of me,” he said, his tone thoroughly amused.

Castiel gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he mumbled, continuing on walking, not caring if Dean followed, though he knew he would. His first attempt to get rid of Dean had failed, but surely, he would have more than one opportunity. He could feel Dean’s jovial demeanor even as he walked ahead of him, every step making Castiel increasingly irritated.

The trip to the capital and back would be at least two days, if not more. Two days of not knowing what had happened to his brothers; if they had been captured or if they were prowling the land, looking for their stolen artifact, probably skin him alive for leaving them. He suppressed a shiver, the unknown weighing heavily on him. The sooner he got the amulet and left, the better it would be for his nerves. At the very least, they had made it to the main path of the woods and Castiel knew where to go from there.

After his failed attempt to dissuade the journey, Dean seemed to no longer switch between his feelings and instead was constantly full of amusement, walking beside Castiel. He didn’t know why his companion was happy, and it frustrated him to no end.

It wasn’t long before he could feel Dean staring at him, curiosity rolling off of him, even if the man didn’t say a word.

Sighing, Castiel looked over at him. “Spit it out,” he grumbled. If he got the questions over with now, maybe he’d have to deal with fewer later. He was already in a poor mood as it was – he didn’t need to be bombarded with useless questions too.

Dean at least had the decency to seem slightly embarrassed for being so obvious with his attention. He cleared his throat. “Well, Jimmy. I’ve been thinking about your job and how you travel the land, but then I got to thinking. What do you for fun?” asked Dean. Castiel blinked, waiting a beat. Out of all the questions he thought his travelling companion may have asked, that had not been one of them.

He tilted his head, squinting at Dean. “I don’t exactly have time for… fun. Most of my time is spent staying alive,” he responded matter-of-factly. It was the truth. He could not remember the last time he had dedicated any amount of time to an enjoyable activity of his own free will. Especially now though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to not let his guard down, with the soldiers probably still chasing him and his brothers since they stole from the castle the previous day.

Dean, on the other hand, looked disgusted beside him. “Are you kidding me? No fun? Buddy, I’ve lived in a tower for nearly 25 years, and even I know how to have fun. You need to lighten up, sweetheart.”

Castiel’s anger flared. Here, Castiel was, trying not to think of all that could go wrong in the next two days, of how many guards they might run into, or how he might come across his brothers, and Dean seemed to be without a care in the world. It was irking, to say the least. His life was far from perfect, considering he had been on the run for 10 years, but what did Dean know about trying to survive every single day? “Do you really think that I can do that, Dean? Do you think that it’s easy for a criminal to enjoy his life? To have fun means to let my guard down. The last time I had fun, I was…” he trailed off, refocusing on Dean’s words.

Dean said 25 years in a tower. If what that was true, about having lived in the tower for what Castiel could only assume was his whole life, then he truly didn’t know how the world worked, considering he had somehow believed that he and his father were the only two humans left. Castiel thought it laughable, still not understanding why he had assumed him to be some type of supernatural creature upon meeting. However, seeing as Dean seemed to believe fables to be true, the man was impressionable.

The wheels in his head started turning, coming up with a new plan. His first attempt had been unsuccessful in scaring Dean off, but perhaps he had been too verbal. He knew that socializing was not his strong suit, so it was no wonder it had failed. But perhaps a physical scare would be enough to send Dean back to his tower. A bar would be just the place to overwhelm him.

Castiel snapped his fingers, as if remembering something. Dean looked like he had just been reprimanded, so Castiel softened his features, trying to ease whatever tension he had just built. “Actually, now that you mention it, I do know one thing that brings me a lot of joy. It’s actually on the way to the city; we should be able to make it by early afternoon tomorrow.” He shrugged, the challenge in his eyes directed at Dean. “Since you seem to believe I don’t know how to lighten up, let’s go have some fun.”

Castiel watched as the man beside him blinked, before smiling at him. “Alright. Prove it,” Dean replied cheerily. Castiel thought he detected a hint of caution in his tone, but decided to ignore it, if only so he could get their temporary alliance over with sooner than later.

He switched directions, leading the two of them on a new path. “I just know you’ll love it. From what I’ve heard, the Roadhouse is one of the finest establishments we have here in Lawrence. It’ll be a first time for both you and I.” He truly didn’t care for bars much, but if there was any place that may be able to deter Dean from their journey together, if someone would be able to scare him back home, it would be there.

The rest of the day was fairly quiet, with no further incidents or stops. Neither of them willingly wanted to be with the other, but they both wanted their ends of the deal upheld, so they persevered. The walking took its toll on Dean the hardest. When Castiel said it was time to rest for the night, Dean was asleep on the ground within moments, snoring not long after.

Castiel raised his eyebrow, slightly surprised, regarding how easily he could suddenly relax. If he could sleep like that, he’d be in paradise. Watching Dean sleep, he debated whether or not leaving him to rot and going to find the amulet by himself, but if Dean was true to his word, he would never find it without his help. It wasn’t worth the risk. Frustrated with how his life had taken a turn, Castiel slumped down on the ground and closed his eyes, trying to sleep.

Like always, he had barely gotten a few hours of sleep before he was awake again. It just put him on edge, being in such a vulnerable state for an extended period of time. Considering his brothers and the soldiers were out there somewhere, his anxiety was heightened, not helping matters. However, when Dean woke up, he seemed surprisingly refreshed. Castiel genuinely didn’t know how he could be so peppy.

Seeing as he was energized, Dean was actually surprisingly pleasant to be around, much to Castiel’s disbelief, having walked together for another few hours that morning. There were no irritating questions about himself or more displays of increased emotions. It wasn’t enough to not wish to get rid of him, but enough that Castiel didn’t despise the walk terribly. There was less tension than there had been the day before.

Dean was very eccentric to say the least, seemingly thrilled to be outside. He kept asking questions about the world and the population, even about humanity in general. It wasn’t about Castiel’s life, so he was perfectly fine with answering them, as long as they were trivial matters.

If Castiel asked about his tower life though, he seemed rather dodgy. He was fine with saying how long he’d lived there, but how he survived, Dean would avoid answering and instead, ask a question of his own in its place.

He understood it from a personal standpoint, as he wasn’t willing to share about his personal life either, but he just couldn’t understand the story as a whole. Dean had mentioned his father and how he lived there for his whole life. But how did someone survive in a tower and not go outside? How did someone grow up thinking that there were demons and other monsters in the world? Would his father not have taught him about history and the truth of the world?

They fell into an almost comfortable temporary truce, where they learned chatted about a variety of topics, everything staying surface level. If one avoided a question, the other wouldn’t press. Dean didn’t talk about his past, and neither did Castiel.

It didn’t feel like it had been that long of a walk before the road opened up. Had it already been at least four hours of walking? He must’ve been tired, if he was no longer paying attention to how far they had gotten. Castiel cleared his throat, stopping and gesturing to the building before them. “Here we are, Dean. The Roadhouse. Are you ready to have a good time?”

Dean smiled at him. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Chapter Text

Jimmy led the way to the building and pushed open the door. Dean followed behind him, not knowing what to expect. He still didn’t really understand what a ‘bar’ was, but from what Jimmy had explained, it was a place where people went to drink and eat. He was getting rather hungry.

“Welcome to the Roadhouse. The finest bar in Lawrence, so I’ve heard,” Jimmy announced to him. Whatever Dean had been expecting, this was not it. There were people everywhere, people like him and Jimmy. Most had bottles in their hands, either talking with each other or eating some food. Some seemed to be participating in a game.

His hand immediately gripped onto the frying pan, fear latching onto his heart. The only thing keeping him walking forward was Jimmy’s hand on his shoulder, and even that had him tensing. He was overwhelmed.

Jimmy gestured to the bar and tilted his head curiously. “Alright Dean. Do you want to get a drink, eat something, play a game or two, or talk with the locals?” Jimmy asked. He tried opening his mouth but no words came out. There was too much for him to take in.

People. There were so many people. That was shocking in itself, but they weren’t attacking each other? From what he could tell, they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company. Even when humans had still been around like his father said, he explained that they were violent and barbaric, fighting with one another at any chance they could.

Was everything his father told him a lie? He had been told there were no more humans, yet here they were, blatantly contradicting his words. Surprisingly, there weren’t any sort of monsters or creatures out in the open either, unlike what he was told. It didn’t make any sense. The more that Dean saw of the world, even if he had only met Jimmy and now these strangers, the more he began to question… well, everything.

“Dean,” something snapped in front of his face. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He looked to his side, blinking at Jimmy beside him, blue eyes staring at him. He tilted his head at Dean. “You don’t look too good. Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Dean didn’t respond. He wasn’t too sure he could.

He felt a hand grab his arm, and he waited for the inevitable tightening, but it never came. Instead, it lightly tugged, and he was back up on his feet, being led back to the door. When had they moved to the middle of the bar? When had he even sat down? “It’s okay, Dean. It’s too much. I understand. The world, it’s intense. We can bring you back to your tower and we can –,” Jimmy started, but a large slam interrupted him.

“I know you, pretty boy,” someone in the bar stated, the voice being heard through the whole atmosphere, silencing everyone. Dean turned his head to where the voice came from. He felt a hand on his waist as Jimmy moved in front of him, intercepting him from whoever had spoken. Not knowing what to do in response to Jimmy’s protection, Dean placed his hand on his shoulder to signal he was still there. Looking over Jimmy’s shoulder, there was a woman pointing at them, her eyebrows furrowed.

She was surrounded by a few men, sitting at the table while she stood. She had long brown hair, her lips painted red, and wore a smile on her face. This lady’s grin was cruel and sadistic, sending a shiver down his spine. Even though she looked human, she reminded him of one of the monsters his father warned him about.

She walked around her table, her swagger drawing the eyes of the entire bar. She had a sheet of some kind in her hands. As she came closer to view, he could see that it was a poster similar to the one Jimmy had kept in his bag when Dean found him – the portrait of his face. “You’re the thief, Jimmy Shurley. Who would’ve guessed a prize like you would end up right in my arms?”

“You must have me mistaken for someone else. Excuse us,” Jimmy grumbled. Pulling Dean with him, they made their way toward the door, but two people blocked their path, cornering them. Dean swallowed, not knowing what to do. This definitely seemed more hostile than the people who had been chatting with one another mere minutes ago, more like the stories his father told him.

“I think you will fetch a nice reward, Jimmy,” the girl announced. She brandished a knife in front of them, waving it back and forth. “The only question is, do you need to be dead or alive?”

Someone suddenly pulled Dean back, holding his arms behind him. “Hey, get off of me!” he shouted, trying to get out of the grip.

“Dean,” Jimmy started, trying to turn to him, but he was intercepted by the two people from the door. He was held in the same position as Dean, his arms held in place, as they waited for the woman’s orders. Dean fought back, trying to free his arms, while he could only watch as the woman placed her knife on Jimmy’s cheek, applying a little bit of pressure, drawing the slightest bit of blood. Jimmy flinched slightly, and Dean itched to heal the injury.

“Well, do you have any last words, Shurley?” she asked. Dean shoved his elbow into whoever was behind him, but he may as well have hit the wall, as the person did not budge in the slightest. Instead, they tightened their grip on him.

Jimmy kept his eyes on him as he spoke. “Let him go. He has nothing to do with this.”

The girl looked at Dean and shrugged. “Honestly, not the best last words from a dead man, but it works. I’ll grant you this one request.” She waved her hand at whoever was holding him and he was released. However, they took his satchel from him, making sure he was left unarmed. He glared at his captor, but didn’t dare move, not knowing what the girl’s next action would be.

Dean turned back to the scene at hand, watching Jimmy’s shoulders slump ever so slightly. “Now, how should I kill you? Slowly? Quickly? Messy? Clean kill? There are so many options,” the girl suggested to Jimmy, dragging the flat edge of her blade down over the cut on his cheek to his neck, before swiftly making a slice across his arm, leaving a small trail of blood in her wake.

Dean heard Jimmy hiss in pain and his fear grew. He felt helpless, running his fingers quickly through his hair. What could he do? His frying pan was in his bag and he didn’t know how to fight. But he couldn’t just let Jimmy die.

Looking around, he searched for something, anything he could use as a weapon, or even a distraction.

His eyes landed on a pistol in someone’s waistband. Not even thinking, he rushed over and grabbed the weapon out of the woman’s belt. “Hey,” she cried but Dean wasn’t thinking. He pointed it at the woman still threatening Jimmy, or at least tried to. One of the men following her orders was in the way. Even if he hadn’t been in the way, Dean knew he didn’t know how to aim a gun.

Not knowing what else to do, Dean closed his eyes and fired the pistol up towards the rafters. He looked back around him and everyone was looking at him. The lady put down her knife and was staring at him. Even Jimmy was looking at him with a mix of confusion and awe, but Dean couldn’t help but glance to the gash running down his face.

Now that he had their attention though, it was time to stall until he could think of a better plan. He put on his best smile and tried to look charming. “Hey. I know we seemed to get off on the wrong terms, but I think it’s time we introduced ourselves. I’m Dean and I love frisky women,” he began. He heard his father say something like that once while telling him a story of his past, so it couldn’t be that bad to say. However, Jimmy made a scrunched-up face at the remark, so maybe it wasn’t a good idea.

Regardless, he continued, gesturing to the girl, pistol still in his hand. “Look, I know you want to kill him. Hell, even I want to kill him. He’s a pain in the ass. He doesn’t know how to have fun and made friends with a guinea pig. He’s a lousy thief and lost a fight to a man with a frying pan. I mean, the guy’s a loser. If I could, I’d much rather be hanging out with someone who’d give me a good time.” He winked at the girl for good measure, but he didn’t know what he was doing.

He really hoped Jimmy would forgive him if they made it out of the bar alive. “But unfortunately for us both, I need him to hold up his end of our bargain and that requires him coming with me alive, even if I have to drag his sorry butt out of here myself. So I’m going to need you to let him go right now.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the girl who answered in the stunned silence of the bar. The cock of a gun was the only sound that resounded through the place. “Charming speech, boy. Drop the pistol and put your hands where I can see them,” a woman threatened behind him.

Dean turned to the lady. She was nearly a head shorter than him and looked old enough to be his mother, but she had a gun trained on his chest, and he had no doubt she knew how to use it. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, slowly bending down to put the pistol on the ground. The woman watched him like a hawk the entire time, not taking her eyes, or gun, off of him for a second.

He straightened back up, keeping his hands up. The lady took a step towards him. “What’s your name, boy?” If he didn’t have a weapon pointed at his chest, he may have called the woman out for not listening to his speech only a couple of minutes beforehand.

“My name is Dean,” he answered, taking a step backwards.

She took another step closer. “Last name?”

He gulped. “I don’t have one. If I do, my father never gave it to me.” She narrowed her eyes at his answer but it was the truth. He didn’t even know people had last names until he had seen Jimmy’s wanted poster.

“How old are you, Dean?” The lady didn’t stop advancing towards Dean.

“I’m – I’m 24 years old. Turning 25 in a few days, ma’am.” It couldn’t hurt to be polite, right? Hopefully she’d be less willing to shoot him then. He made another move backwards, feeling something solid at his back. He cursed internally, between the wall and the gun. He was completely at her mercy.

She walked forward still and pressed her gun to his chest. He did his best not to flinch against the pressure. “Alright, say you’re telling the truth. Why should I believe you when you say you need the thief alive? He’s worth a decent bit of coin. I think a deal ain’t worth it.”

Dean dared a glance at Jimmy. The girl was once again holding her knife up to his throat, but she hadn’t hurt him further, even if the threat was there. She was watching the interaction between him and the gun owner curiously. Jimmy was staring directly at him, the blue eyes boring into his.

He looked back at the lady. He cast his glance down and bit his lip, trying to come up with the right words to explain. “I… I need him to get to the capital. It’s something of a dream of mine. However, so far, it’s very different than I imagined it to be. I’m starting to realize that I was taught some things about the world that don’t seem to be true. Without him and his help, I’m afraid I’ll never get the opportunity again to learn the truth. To live, for once in my life.”

He met the woman’s eyes. “Please. He’s the only chance that I have,” he pleaded.

She continued to stare at him. Moments passed before slowly, ever so slowly, she lowered her gun to the floor. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath. “Meg, let the boy go.”

The girl who had been taunting Jimmy, Meg, raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, Ellen?”

Ellen turned to Meg. “I said let the boy go, ya hear?” Meg shrugged and put her knife away.

“Sorry about that, Clarence,” Meg said, her tone not remorseful in the slightest, addressing Jimmy. Where she had gotten the name Clarence, Dean didn’t know. However, she gestured to the men holding him, giving them a silent order. Dean let out a sigh of relief as they let go of Jimmy’s arms, shoving him roughly towards Dean.

His reflexes kicked in, as he barely managed to catch Jimmy before he stumbled to the ground. “You good?” he whispered, steadying Jimmy as he stood.

The thief nodded, his blue eyes wide. “I’m good.”

“Come on, you two. I think you owe me a story,” Ellen called over her shoulder. The man who had taken Dean’s bag gave it back to him as she gestured to follow her. Dean shrugged at Jimmy, not daring to upset her again. Before following though, he opened his bag, checking in on Sam.

“Did the bastard hurt you at all?” he asked quietly, focusing on the guinea pig. If anything happened to Sammy, he’d fight everyone in the bar, even if the odds were against him. I’m fine, Dean. Go talk to the lady, Sam replied, eyeing Ellen as she walked behind the counter in the center of the room, placing her gun down. Just like that, any remaining tension in the atmosphere disappeared. The conversation resumed and people went on as if nothing had just happened.

She tapped on the counter twice, motioning for them to sit. It was strange to Dean to have a chair without any type of backrest, but they went all around the counter, so he assumed this was normal. Jimmy sat down on the seat beside him, staying close by.

“Now,” Ellen started, resting her elbows on the counter and narrowing her eyes at the two of them. “Which of you boys wants to tell me what kind of trouble you’ve been getting into and why you’re here at the Roadhouse?”

Chapter Text

Castiel believed that it may have been the weirdest day of his life, and that was saying something, considering his life as a thief. It should’ve crossed his mind that someone may recognize him at the bar, but he was so set on his plan to get rid of Dean, he hadn’t truly thought of the consequences.

Now, in hindsight, he felt guilty for trying to ditch his traveling companion so harshly. No one in his life had ever stuck up for him like Dean had. Sure, he insulted him in multiple ways, which Castiel was definitely going to ask him about later, but he stared down the barrel of a gun for him. Dean refused to give up on him.

Of course, Castiel knew it was only because Dean was as much a part of their deal as he was, but he had heard the truth to Dean’s words. He, for whatever reason, needed Castiel to bring him to the capital, having never gone himself. This was his first time leaving his tower.

However, that once again led to the questions of why his father had lied to him about humans, why he’d never told him their last name, or why he never let Dean out of the tower his entire life.

“And that’s how we got to the Roadhouse. Once again, I’m sorry for shooting your roof. I was a bit desperate as you may imagine,” Dean recounted for Ellen. They had left out a couple of the details, like Dean blackmailing him or hitting him over the head with a frying pan - even he didn’t understand how he was uninjured from that - but she knew most everything else. She chuckled.

“Meg means well, but you’ll find that she’s quite hot-headed. Finding a thief in our midst was quite the surprise for all of us. Most aren’t stupid enough to come to places with wanted posters on the walls.” She threw Castiel a pointed look and he felt his face flush in embarrassment.

He heard Dean stifle a laugh, covering it with a cough. Castiel kicked him under the counter and felt satisfied with the wince Dean covered.

Ellen clapped her hands together. “Well. Now that I know that you two aren’t going to be anymore trouble, let’s get you cleaned up, sweetie. Meg wasn’t the kindest to you,” she explained, gesturing to him. She left the counter, looking for something.

In the midst of everything, Castiel had genuinely forgotten that he had sustained a couple of new injuries. He put a hand to his cheek and pulled it away, looking down at his fingers. His blood was no longer flowing freely, but it evidently hadn’t scabbed over either, as there was now a little bit of blood on his hand.

He looked over at Dean, who suddenly seemed to be staring intently at his drink. Castiel didn’t understand why he wouldn’t meet his eyes, but was relieved to see that he had no injuries. He couldn’t tell in the midst of everything if Meg or her thugs had somehow hurt him.

Ellen came back with a basin filled with water, steam flowing over the bowl. She placed it in front of Dean, startling him out of his staring match with his drink. “Here you are. His arm is going to need some stitches, but make sure you clean it first.”

Dean looked up at her with widened eyes, glancing quickly over at Castiel and back. The tips of Dean’s ears seemed to redden, which struck him as curious. “I – what? Me? But I don’t have any previous experience with fixing injuries.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him, slightly amused. “Yes, you do. I mean, you fixed me up after we first fought. I hardly see how this should be a big problem in comparison.” He knew Dean understood his meaning when his gaze darted away quickly, refusing to look at him longer than necessary. Ellen looked between the two of them and shook her head, pointing to the side of the room which led to a small hallway.

“Go to the room just around the corner in the hall. It’s a small storage room. There should be a table and chairs, some extra towels, as well as any other supplies you might need. If you need anything, just holler.” With that, she left them to it.

Dean seemed to reluctantly grab the bowl of water and get up from his seat, leading the way to the storage room. Castiel followed behind. He truly didn’t understand why Dean was avoiding him. Maybe he disliked the sight of blood and it made him uncomfortable?

Sure enough, just as Ellen had said, there were towels in a neat pile on a shelf, beside some other medical supplies. Castiel sat down in one of the chairs, while Dean set the bowl of water down on the little table. He put his satchel down on the ground, letting Sam out of his bag so he could stretch his legs. Castiel did nothing besides watch as Dean reached to grab one of the towels.

He dipped it in the water, wringing out the extra liquid. Castiel continued to only watch, as Dean was still barely meeting his eyes. “I’m going to let you know now, this may hurt,” Dean warned. He nodded, gesturing for him to proceed.

Dean reached up and pressed the cloth to Castiel’s cheek. He hadn’t lied, it definitely stung. He let out a hiss of pain, and Dean pulled back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, rubbing his neck.

Castiel shook his head. “It’s fine, Dean. It just stings a little. Nothing I can’t handle. Just try not to put too much pressure on it, okay?” he offered, trying to meet Dean’s eyes. Finally, those green eyes met his own and he received a soft smile.

Tentatively, Dean lifted the cloth and gently wiped at the cut. Castiel had to admit, it still stung, but he knew was Dean was being extra careful to not hurt him. It was almost soothing, the warm damp towel against his skin and the steady hand moving it.

After his face had been cleaned, Dean continued on, cleaning the cut on his arm, heeding Ellen’s advice, before moving on with the needle and thread. He grabbed Castiel’s arm and held it gently in his grip, while his other hand worked on sewing.

That was definitely not a pleasant experience. He bit his lip, not wanting to make a sound, as Dean stuck the needle through his skin and pulled.

“I’m sorry,” Dean suddenly blurted out. Castiel tilted his head, hopefully signaling him to continue. He wished for the conversation, if only to distract him from his pain. “I didn’t know what to say when Meg was going to kill you so I panicked. I thought that maybe if she thought you weren’t a good thief or something, she might let you go. At the very least, I hoped it would distract her enough so I’d be able to come up with a plan that wasn’t half-assed.”

He watched as Dean’s cheeks reddened. “I didn’t really mean any of it. I mean, yes, I do need you to bring me to the capital, and sure, maybe you’ve been a pain in the ass at times, but for the most part, you’ve been nothing but helpful. You’ve gotten us this far, so that’s got to be an accomplishment of some sort. Though it’s strange to say, I’m glad to have you as my guide.”

Sam made a squeaking sound and Dean glared at him. “Shut up, Sammy,” he muttered.

With those words, Castiel’s heart both swelled and shriveled. He shrugged slightly, looking away. “Well, while we’re in the middle of apologies, I also need to apologize.”

It was Dean’s turn to be confused. “What do you need to apologize for? I’m the one who forced you into this mess.”

Castiel looked back to Dean. “Well, since we’re being honest, I was hoping to get rid of you after the Roadhouse. After my first attempt ended up not working out, I believed my verbal skills to be the cause. I thought maybe if I could get you overwhelmed with people, you would consider going back to your tower quicker and I could get out of our deal,” he explained. Dean pulled suddenly on a stitch and Castiel yelped. He deserved that.

Dean stayed silent for a moment, continuing the stitches, back to being gentle. “Why are you telling me this?” he mumbled. If Castiel hadn’t been right in front of him, he doubted he would have heard the question.

He sighed. “Is this not what people do when they wish to make amends?” Dean gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, and he realized who he was talking to. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.

“I am giving you my apologies, because it seems that I was wrong about you. I thought you were just some crazy man who had delusions of monsters, which hasn’t changed that much,” Castiel explained. Dean glared at him, but he ignored the look and continued. “But then I watched you get excited about the world. I listened as you asked questions and had such a great curiosity. It was refreshing, and I found myself becoming more curious about you, to be perfectly honest. Even if you still annoy me to know end.

“And then we got to the Roadhouse. And that whole situation with Meg happened. Here I was, thinking my life had finally caught up to me, and then you were there. This stranger I had only met the previous day. Defending me, albeit a bit harshly. Risking his life for someone he had just met who had been an absolute pain in the ass.”

Dean chuckled lightly and it made Castiel soften. “After everything, it made me realize that I don’t think you’re a completely horrible traveling companion, even with your best friend being a guinea pig. I was hoping maybe we could start over, assuming you can forgive me for trying to get rid of you at any given chance.”

Dean stopped his work with the stitches. He looked up at Castiel, meeting his eyes. He saw an amused, if not mischievous, glint enter Dean’s eyes and knew that somewhere down the line, this decision was going to bite him in the butt. However, for the moment, all he could do was take in Dean, his first possible friend.

“Well, since you put it so nicely, I guess I can manage to forgive you,” Dean drawled. Castiel glared at him, which only made the glint in his eyes stronger. He wasn’t lying when he said Dean was still annoying. “Under one condition though.” Dean finished his last stitch on the wound and proceeded to lift Castiel’s arm, wrapping a bandage around the stitches.

Castiel hesitated. “What’s the condition?” Knowing Dean, it was either something simple or something ludicrous. He didn’t know which would be worse.

Dean smirked at him. He did a final wrap around Castiel’s arm before giving his terms. “I need you to admit that you were upset when I told Meg I’d rather be in her company than yours.” Nope, not even a doubt about it. He definitely would have preferred something simple over ludicrous.

“You know what? I take it all back. I definitely should have left you when I had the chance,” Castiel argued. He hadn’t been jealous, but he did feel a slight pang in his chest when Dean talked about ‘frisky women’. It made him crinkle his nose just thinking about it.

Dean’s grin only widened. Oh, he definitely hated this man. “Come on. Just a simple phrase. Just say you were upset and all is forgiven, sweetheart.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Honestly, of all the insufferable people in the world, how is it that I get stuck with you as a companion?”

Dean put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think I’m adorable,” he scoffed.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. As about as adorable as a dying goat,” Castiel shot back.

“Fine. I’ll change my condition,” Dean relented, drawing back to think. Castiel hoped it could be something that he could be done with quickly, but knowing Dean, that was a very slim chance.

“Ok. I’ve got it,” Dean announced. Castiel glanced at Sam, as if the guinea pig would hold answers to Dean’s request.

He refused to continue, just looking at Castiel, amused. When Dean still didn’t continue, Castiel sighed. “And what is that?” he asked, as Dean appeared to be waiting for acknowledgement.

Dean grinned; his face the portrayal of innocence. “I want you to smile for me.”

Castiel frowned. “Are you serious? You can basically ask anything from me, and you wish for me to smile?” It was ridiculous. He had been expecting something more mocking, but to smile? It felt almost personal, and he didn’t know why that was worse.

Dean shrugged, placing his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “Look man. I’ve been walking with you for a little over a day now and I haven’t seen you smile once. The least you could do is pretend to have a sense of humor.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps if you were actually funny, that wouldn’t be a problem.” To be fair, Dean actually was funny, albeit obnoxious. He did enjoy some of his jokes, but he didn’t want to react to them – earlier, because his travelling companion made him furious. Now, he was just being a stubborn mule.

Dean opened his mouth to argue further, but the door swung open. A man with half short, half long hair was standing in the doorway looking quite pale and nervous. “You boys Dean and Jimmy?”

Castiel nodded, glancing to Dean, before looking back at the man. He didn’t recognize him from their time out in the front of the bar. “The name’s Ash. Ellen said you boys would be back here fixing him up.” He jerked his head towards Castiel before continuing. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but y’all need to get out of here. Now.”

Castiel stood suddenly. “Why? What’s the matter?” he asked, not knowing if he truly wanted to know the answer. However, he had a feeling he knew what Ash was going to say regardless.

“The royal guards are going to be here any second. Jo happened to be coming back from a walk when she spotted them only a minute or two ago. Someone must’ve tipped them off about you, Jimmy,” Ash explained. He looked apologetic. “We don’t know who it is that told them. Most people here are pretty loyal to Ellen, but sometimes, you get one bad apple and everything turns to muck, am I right?”

Castiel groaned. It was to be expected - of course he couldn’t have peace. “How do we get out of here?”

Ash walked away. “Follow me and keep close.” Dean gestured for Castiel to take the lead, hanging back for a second to grab Sam. Castiel was cautious creeping down the hall, even though the guards weren’t yet there. He had a feeling Gordon was still quite upset after losing him yesterday and would gladly see him hanged, with or without the royal possession in his hands. It didn’t help that he didn’t know what had become of Lucifer or Michael after he had ditched them.

They walked behind Ash, following him behind the counter of the bar. Ellen turned around and gave them worried looks. “I’m sorry boys. If we knew they had been coming, I would have told you sooner. But for now, you two take care of yourselves, wouldja?” Both he and Dean nodded. “Ash here will show you out back. It leads to a different path to the capital. Hopefully you can –,” she started.

The door to the bar slammed opened, interrupting her, and Castiel didn’t even think. He immediately grabbed Dean’s hand and hauled him to the ground at the sight of Gordon, slamming him down beside him. Castiel’s life was one matter, but if Gordon got his hands on Dean, he would never forgive himself.

The fact that he even thought about protecting Dean was terrifying in itself. He barely cared enough for his brothers. Sure, they were his family, but he had left them to be captured, hadn’t he? And yet, here Castiel was, worried for someone else’s life. It was unnerving.

“Ellen,” Castiel heard Gordon call. “Long time, no see. How have you been?”

Ash motioned with his hand to follow him as he walked behind the counter leisurely, taking time to look as if he were still working. They followed slowly on hands and knees, doing their best to not make a sound. Ellen just grabbed a towel and started drying off a glass. “Gordon. Pleasure to see you as always. What brings the king’s little lapdog here to my bar? Don’t you have better things to do like chasing after a squirrel?”

Castiel smiled at the venom in her words. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who hated the head of the royal guard. Gordon, to his credit, laughed at the words. “It seems your husband has been putting a good word in for me. How is Bobby doing? He didn’t show up to work today.” Ellen didn’t respond, just continued cleaning the glass. Gordon sighed. “Don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair in no time. I’m just here for one little thing. I have a reliable witness who says they saw the thief Jimmy Shurley walk into this bar just over an hour ago. I caught his partners early yesterday afternoon, so if you could just hand him over to me, then I’d have the whole set.”

Castiel stopped crawling, Gordon’s words settling in. Lucifer and Michael were captured? He had been mulling it over in his head, seeing as he had left them at the bottom of that cliff, but he assumed they had somehow managed to get away. They always did. He had envisioned them captured, but to actually hear it from the captain of the guard was another story.

A small tap on his foot brought Castiel back to the present. He turned his head to see Dean looking with a concerned expression, his face pulled into a frown. Castiel gave him a curt nod before continuing on the trek. They had just reached the other side of the counter when Ellen replied. “Do you take me for a fool, Gordon? You and I both know the law. I wouldn’t serve a criminal. Besides, if there was someone worth a dime in this bar, you’d think I’d let them get away?” She huffed out a laugh. “Whoever your witness saw, I can assure you, it ain’t Jimmy Shurley, regardless of how reliable their information was.”

Castiel had to admire her courage. Not many people would be willing to stand up to the guard, especially not for a criminal such as himself. Ash continued his leisurely walk down the hall and motioned with two fingers for them to slowly follow him.

Carefully, rounding the corner, Castiel got on his feet, sticking close to the wall to remain out of sight, Dean doing the same. He followed Ash, but he kept glancing back, making sure Dean was there, but also to ensure they weren’t being followed. He felt exposed like this, slinking around the bar with Gordon just around the corner.

Ash looked both ways before releasing a deep sigh. “Alright boys. The path is just down the next couple of halls. First right, second left, and then first right again. Leads you to the back tunnel. I need to get back there before Ellen beats Gordon to a pulp, but I wish y’all the best,” he whispered, before turning back to the main entrance.

“Ash,” Castiel whispered. He turned back toward the two of them. “Thank you. To you and Ellen. It means a lot,” he thanked. Ash gave a half salute before continuing down the hall, leaving the two of them to escape together.

Chapter Text

Dean had no idea how Jimmy could stand being on the run everyday. They were far enough away from the main area to speak normally again, and yet, he felt like every sound he made would ensure their capture. He said as much. Jimmy just tilted his head. “I mean, it keeps me on my toes. It’s better than sitting around in a little house all day and never doing anything with my life, right?”

Dean disagreed. It didn’t help that Jimmy’s less-than-ideal scenario sounded like his life every single day. “Sure, the adrenaline pumping through my veins is thrilling, but I think I might puke at any given moment.”

Jimmy scoffed beside him. “Just don’t get anything on my shoes, alright? They are a puke free zone.”

Dean punched him in the arm, glaring at his friend. “Look, Mr. Demanding. I think with the Captain of the Guard coming after you specifically, the least you could do is let me be sick on your shoes,” he challenged.

The corners of Jimmy’s mouth tilted up, before he quickly smothered it. Dean grinned and let out a low whistle, feeling victorious. “Well, I’ll be damned. He can smile.”

Jimmy pulled his face into a frown, but Dean could see the amusement in his eyes. “I did no such thing. You must be imagining things,” he argued.

“Deny it all you want, but I saw it, even if it was for a fraction of a second. You smiled, sweetheart,” Dean said, teasing Jimmy.

His forehead crinkled. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

Dean poked him on his forehead, causing Jimmy to swat at his hand. “You got us into this mess, so in return, I can call you whatever I like.” There was no reasoning to his logic, if he actually thought about it. He just wanted an excuse to make fun of Jimmy, and it seemed to be working.

Jimmy gave him an affronted look. “I got us into this mess? Tell me, which one of us forced the other to go on this trip in the first place?”

He snorted. “After you broke into my home and,” he began.

“Be quiet,” Jimmy interrupted abruptly, straightening.

No way was he getting the last word. “Hey, you started it. I was only –,”

Before he even knew what was happening, Jimmy put his hand over his mouth, grabbing his arm and yanking him into a small alcove at their side, one he hadn’t even seen. One second, he was out in the hall, the next Dean was pressed up against a wall, with Jimmy’s body pressing against his front, his hand still on Dean’s mouth.

He swallowed, feeling a little warm sensation in his stomach, similar to when he had been treating his wounds. His urge to heal had been overwhelming, yet he constantly had to tell himself to do as Ellen instructed. But when Jimmy told him the truth and asked that they start over their relationship, with such clear honesty yet hesitant hope in his eyes, Dean had felt an odd feeling, which he didn’t know how to name.

Now, it was much worse than earlier. Even though Jimmy was slightly shorter than himself, Dean felt like he had never been smaller, with his friend pressed up in front of him. He found himself not entirely uncomfortable with the situation, which was confusing in many different aspects.

Thankfully, Jimmy seemed unaware of Dean’s internal confusion, as he kept his head turned toward the light of the hall, seemingly listening to something.

Dean listened too, slowly hearing the murmur of voices. How Jimmy had heard anyone so far away, he had no idea. All he knew was that he saw the light of a torch get brighter as it came closer, the people getting closer to their hiding spot.

As the voices got louder, seemingly on top of them, Jimmy pressed closer to him, pushing Dean literally between the wall and his body. He felt every part of Jimmy’s body flatten against his own; could feel every curve and muscle. Even if Jimmy didn’t have his hand clapped over Dean’s mouth, he doubted he would have been able to say anything in that moment. Why was he reacting like that?

Looking at his companion, Dean lost focus of his surroundings, feeling Jimmy’s light breath on his own face, mere inches apart, as he continued watching the hall for any signs of danger. His blue eyes were fierce and determined, quietly ensuring no one happened upon them.

Soon enough, to Dean’s relief, the voices faded past them and Jimmy sighed, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. He stilled at the contact, not remembering how to breathe. Truly, what was the matter with him?

Jimmy looked up at him and his enchanting blue eyes widened suddenly, jumping back and removing his hand from Dean’s mouth. Some small part of him yearned for the contact to continue, which he quickly squashed down, refusing to acknowledge how oddly nice Jimmy looked when he was being protective.

Even in the poor lighting, Dean could see Jimmy’s face flush. He was pretty sure his face was in a similar state. “I- uh. I heard them, those people there, and you- you didn’t think so I just. Did.” Jimmy stammered out a jumble of words, making no sense. Dean had never seen him at such a loss of words before.

He turned back to the hall, pointedly avoiding Dean’s gaze. “I think uh. I think we should keep going. Who knows if we will be so lucky next time?” Jimmy suggested. He didn’t look back to make sure Dean followed; he just left the alcove, giving Dean a minute to collect his thoughts and remember to breathe.

“Sammy, did you –,” he gulped, asking his friend. What was he trying to ask? He pressed a hand to his face, rubbing it down once and savoring the coolness. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Definitely not coming down with a fever, Sam mocked from the bag.

Dean glared at his satchel. “Bitch,” he shot at Sam, trying to catch up with Jimmy. Jerk, the guinea pig responded from his hiding place.

By the time he was back at Jimmy’s side, Jimmy had collected himself, and so had Dean. “I apologize for the rashness of that. I panicked when I heard the voices and it was my best idea in the midst of everything,” Jimmy explained.

Dean waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. After all, you’re the one with the survival skills. I’m just the handsome stranger who is tagging along.”

Jimmy only shrugged. “It’s true. You’re not useful for much else,” he joked.

Dean sputtered out a laugh, as they reached the entrance to the tunnel. “He can make jokes too! Who knew? But if I knew you were looking for a specific skillset, I would have practiced with all my free time in the tower,” he started but quickly bit his lip. He felt he could trust Jimmy at least somewhat, but he still didn’t want to talk about his life.

Jimmy opened his mouth to say something when someone else spoke. “I see him!” someone shouted at the end of the hall. Both of them turned to see a royal guard pointing at them.

“SHIT!” someone yelled, and Dean didn’t know if was himself or Jimmy. All he knew was that Jimmy put a hand on his arm and started sprinting into the tunnel, Dean nearly stumbling before righting himself and running alongside him. They could hear the guards behind them, yet neither dared to try and look.

The tunnel finally came to an opening, leading to a small ledge in the middle of a gorge. Both Dean and Jimmy looked over the edge, seeing a small creek below them but not much else. Above the tunnel was a fairly large dam, with a pathway of water flowing from the top of the dam to the creek. Looking around, the only way to get off the ledge was a rickety old ladder which made Dean sick just looking at. They were trapped.

Dean looked to Jimmy for a plan. His eyebrows were furrowed together, following the dam and creek. He turned back to Dean. “Are you ready to do something incredibly reckless that will probably end up with both of us severely injured or dead?” Jimmy asked him.

“Always,” he responded, though he didn’t feel near confident.

“Good. Sorry about this,” Jimmy said. Before Dean could ask, a fist collided with nose, sending him backwards.

“Sonofabitch,” Dean cursed. He clutched his nose as tears sprang to his eyes out of reflex. He repressed the urge to heal it out of instinct, but only barely. “What the Hell was that for?” He blinked a couple of times, trying to quell the pain, as his fingers pulled away with blood.

Jimmy cut the rope ladder, trapping them on the ledge, before he was scaling the cliffside towards the dam. Dean could only watch in fascination and pain. “I’ll let you know when you need to back towards the edge of the cliff but for now, you need to stall. What better way to do that than looking like we fought and I held you against your will?”

Dean wanted to argue, because backing toward the cliff’s edge was the last thing he wanted to do, but the voices were growing louder right in front of him. Jimmy only climbed faster. What he was planning to do, Dean had no idea. All he knew was that Jimmy had a plan and his part was to stall, so stall he would do.

He sprawled himself on the ground, clutching at his face. It was only a matter of moments before the guards came into view. “Please. Please don’t hurt me,” Dean cried out, blinking a few times up at them, as one of the guards stepped forward, most likely the leader, Gordon.

“It’s alright, son. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to know what happened,” Gordon said, holding out a hand to Dean.

He pretended to hesitate before reaching out to grab it slowly. He didn’t know how much time Jimmy needed, but he couldn’t even see him anymore. Where had he gone?

Dean shook his knees, putting most of his weight on Gordon. He decided to try a dialect similar to Ellen’s and Ash’s. “Well, I’m in the bar, right, just minding mah own business when this random stranger comes up to me and grabs my arm. I try to fight back but he pulls out a knife, telling me to come with him. Now I ain’t no fool, so I let him drag me along.” He didn’t even know where the story came from, but Dean made sure he sounded pretty useless. “That’s when I see you boys come through the door and try to get yer attention, but he just clamps a hand over mah mouth before I can say a word, making sure I stay as his bait.”

He shuddered, effectively showing his ‘dismay’. “One of yer guards sees us at the entrance to the tunnel. Next thing I know, I’m running, being half dragged behind this crazy man, who I still don’t know. We get to sunlight and he punches me in the face. He kicks me, making sure I’m no threat, and climbs down the ladder.” He touched his nose and immediately winced, not having to fake the pain that flared across his face. Trying to make his story more believable, he gestured to his side where the ladder had been.

Gordon walked over to where the evidence was. Dean’s heartbeat quickened as he watched Gordon grab the clearly cut ends of the ladder. “You said he climbed down the ladder?” he asked, looking over the ledge to where the ladder now laid on the ground below.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, acting embarrassed. “I… I at least think he did. I’m not too sure, sir, as he beat me up good. I’m pretty sure he went that way.” He saw movement from the corner of his eyes and saw Jimmy frantically waving at him, still out of view of the guards as they all had their backs to him. That was a signal as good as any.

He slowly backed towards the ledge. He could only glimpse Jimmy pushing some kind of beam connected to the dam before he brought his attention back to the soldiers at hand. “You sure that’s what happened, kid? After all, you seem like a smart boy. I’d hate for you to get involved in the middle of this,” Gordon explained. He made sure Dean got a good glimpse of the sword that his hand was resting on, the threat clear. If he hadn’t already been backing up to the edge, he would’ve taken a step back, not part of the act.

Dean just shook his head, his foot feeling empty air beneath it. He was officially at the edge. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, sir. One moment, I was on my feet being dragged by that darn thief Jimmy Shurley, the next, I was beat up on the ground while he escaped,” he answered.

Gordon’s answering smile did not set him at ease, especially when he pulled the sword out of its sheath. “No one ever said that it was the thief, Jimmy Shurley.” Dean could’ve smacked himself for such an easy slip up. However, a large groan resounding through the area made him and all of the guards freeze.

Dean only watched as the beam that Jimmy had been pushing on toppled over, connecting his section of cliff with another small area, over to the side of the gorge. It would’ve crushed him had he been in the middle of the cliff. It shocked all the guards as they jumped back, distracting them for a split second. “Run Dean!” Jimmy yelled and he didn’t hesitate.

He ran across the beam as quickly as he could without slipping, water spilling onto his pathway from the overhead dam. Dean didn’t have time to panic as he watched the entire thing slowly begin to crack. Otherwise, he knew he was not making it out of there alive.

Jimmy was standing in the narrow water pathway staring at him. As Dean reached the other section of cliff, he realized that there was a large gap of air between him and where Jimmy was holding his hand out. “Dean, you need to jump.”

“Are you insane?” he asked accusingly, halting immediately. It was one thing to climb across a plank to solid ground. It was another to jump into open air with nothing between him and the ground except Jimmy’s hand. More water was pouring out of the dam now, the holes becoming wider.

“Dean, I won’t let you die. I promise,” Jimmy assured, clearly reading Dean’s hesitation to the idea. Jimmy’s choice of words definitely could’ve been better. He looked back into those hauntingly blue eyes and only saw trust there, with a hint of concern.

He heard the click of crossbows and saw the guards loading their weapons. “Dean, now!” Jimmy yelled, his eyes frantically glancing to the soldiers before turning back to him. Praying to whatever gods were left in the world, Dean ran and jumped off the edge, flinging his arms out.

He felt something sturdy and warm wrap around his hand and he clutched onto it for dear life, keeping his eyes shut. Dean knew Jimmy was holding onto his wrists, keeping him from falling, but he couldn’t bear to look, even if he heard Jimmy gasp from the effort. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Jimmy comforted, slowly hoisting him upwards.

Jimmy pulled Dean into the runoff path and held him by the shoulders, steadying him. Gordon shouted, “Fire!” as the guards released their arrows.

“Are you okay?” Jimmy asked Dean, ducking to avoid the onslaught of arrows.

All Dean could do was nod, not trusting his voice to not break if he gave a response. “Good, then we need to go.” As if on cue, a boom shuddered throughout the cliffs. Jimmy grunted, as if in pain, but before Dean could ask what was the matter, he shoved him down into the water, sliding along behind him.

Dean was swept away by the water, slowly making its way down its path. As he slid down, he watched in terror as the dam burst open, releasing the floodwaters into the cavern.

As they hit the bottom of the slide and began to run, Dean turned back to see the guards being swept away by the water. It was taking everything with it. “Dean, hurry!” Jimmy urged, grabbing his hand, forcing him to run quicker.

Dean gasped, seeing an arrow in Jimmy’s shoulder. That must have been why he made a pained noise before pushing them both down the runoff pathway, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it, as the flood was catching up to them. He turned back ahead and looked around at their surroundings, watching as Jimmy led them to a cave.

They could barely see anything inside, the only light coming from the entrance with the giant flow of water rushing towards them, but that didn’t stop them from continuing on. Jimmy suddenly stopped and cursed. “It’s a dead end,” he explained. Dean only began to pull him back to the entrance.

“I’m sure there’s another way. We can –,” Dean started but a crash startled him. Any light that had been in the cave was now gone. “No, no, no,” he cried out as he tried pushing on the boulder blocking their entrance but it was no use. They were officially trapped.

Dean’s panic rose immensely as his feet were suddenly wet. The water was coming in and the level was rising. “Come on, there’s got to be another way,” he heard Jimmy plead as he assumed he was grabbing around the walls. Dean did the same, feeling around for something, anything that would be able to get them out. If there was a way though, he couldn’t see it.

The water was up to his waist now. Dean put his satchel up on a ledge he found in the cavern, giving Sam as much time as he could to breathe. He rubbed his face down in defeat. “If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened. I’ve doomed us both,” Dean admitted.

“Hey, that’s not true. I could’ve easily chosen to not go to the Roadhouse and risk being seen. This is much on me as it is you,” Jimmy argued.

Dean shook his head, even knowing that his friend couldn’t see it. God, he was such an idiot. Why couldn’t he have just listened to his father? He could’ve just been a good son and listened, staying in his tower like he was supposed to. But no, he wanted to go see the capital and now, he was going to be the reason they both died.

He curled his fingers into a fist, punching the stone wall dejectedly. “Dammit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jimmy,” he apologized.

He heard a sigh. “Castiel.”

Dean blinked, not understanding. “What?”

“My real name is Castiel Novak. I figured someone might as well know,” Jimmy – Castiel – explained. If they weren’t in such a dire situation, he may have questioned the strange name. But for the moment, he let it slide.

The water was at his shoulders when he snorted. “Well since we’re telling secrets, I have magic powers that can make my skin glow if I want them to,” Dean admitted, waving his hands in the cave mockingly. He often hid any glow when he was healing his father, as he seemed to dislike it. But if Dean was ever injured, he found it fascinating to see the wound heal, as a bright light would glow from the injury.

A beat passed. “You what?” Castiel asked with more than a note of concern in his tone. Dean suddenly realized that what he said was, in fact, true.

“I have magic powers that can make my skin glow!” Dean exclaimed excitedly. He took a deep breath as the water rose above his head, focusing on his nose, where it was still cracked and broken from when Castiel had punched him. He opened his eyes to see a blinding white light surrounding the inside of the cave, radiating from where his skin was fixing itself.

He saw Castiel try not to gasp as he looked at Dean, with Dean trying to remain calm and finding a way out. Looking around, Dean saw a patch of stones that looked fairly loose. While Castiel grabbed the satchel and Sam, Dean worked on moving the stones out of the way, the glow slowly fading, as his nose felt back to normal. He hoped above all odds that this was a way out.

He grabbed onto the rocks, pulling with all his might as he fought to remain conscious. Suddenly, his arm burst through a hole in the wall. Dean grabbed one more rock, pulling. In turn, the hole shattered, launching them out of the cave and into a lightly flowing river.

The force of the water behind him propelled him to the edge of the river, thankfully. Dean gasped for air as he latched onto the embankment, his stomach and face in the dirt. He turned his head to make sure that Castiel was beside him and alive. Sure enough, he was in basically the same position as Dean, panting for air on his back. His eyes fell on the arrow still in his shoulder, feeling responsible. Sammy was also there, looking water logged.

Dean smiled and began to laugh. “We’re alive. Awesome!” he proclaimed excitedly. He pulled himself fully onto the ground and went over by Castiel, making sure Sam was alright. He lifted him into his palm. His friend was shivering but seemed to be okay, giving him a slight nod.

“He glows. Of course he glows,” Castiel said to no one in particular.

Dean could see him beginning to freak out. “Castiel,” he tried.

“Why wouldn’t he glow? That’s completely ordinary,” he said, turning to Sam as if he would have answers.

“Castiel.” Dean tried again.

“WHY DOES HE GLOW?”

“Cas!” Dean shouted.

“WHAT?” Castiel looked to him with shock and confusion written all over his face, with a slight bit of horror as well.

Dean smiled at his friend. “I don’t just glow,” he confessed. Castiel gave him a once over before slumping his head back to the ground. Dean could tell he was going to have an interesting time trying to explain it.

Chapter Text

Cas was barely moving in front of the fire, sitting on the log beside Dean, even as he placed his hand on Cas’ shoulder to make this next part easier. He knew Cas was still processing seeing his face glow. It just happened to be the one injury that Dean could pinpoint in the middle of everything.

Dean snapped the arrow’s shaft, making it easier for him to get the head out, but Cas just stayed blank, flinching only slightly at the movement. Looking at Cas, he hesitated, waiting to begin healing it. Dean tried to come up with words, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. He didn’t know how to help him process it, and it was more upsetting to him than he would have suspected. It was only Sammy’s nudge on his leg that made him continue.

He sighed. “Cas, I need you to lie your head down on my lap. It’ll make it easier to pull the arrow out, especially if you’re relaxed.”

Cas didn’t respond, just breathed in and out. “Come on, man. Please say something,” Dean pleaded. He just wanted him to talk to him.

Dean waited patiently, hoping Cas would respond. A few moments passed before he got a response. “I apologize. I am trying to understand how this is possible, and it is just difficult to take in,” Cas explained. Slowly, Dean watched as Cas slid further down the log, before lowering his back to lie down. He didn’t miss the hiss of pain, or the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

Dean leaned over Cas and slipped one hand under his vest and tunic, placing one hand on the warm skin of his shoulder at the base of the arrow, as he readied to cover the wound. The other hand gripped the end arrow head, accidentally tugging slightly.

He heard a small whimper escape through Cas’ lips and his heart clenched. No point delaying any longer. “Here’s the way that this is going to go. You’re going to give me a countdown from 3, and then I’m going to rip out the arrow, alright? That way, you’re prepared.”

Cas nodded, his eyes closing. “Okay, I can do that.” Dean watched him take a deep breath. “One.” Dean’s grip on the arrow tightened. “Two.” In one swift pull, Dean tugged the arrow out of Cas’ shoulder, throwing it into the fire.

Cas let a slow stream of curses, as Dean moved his hand over the bleeding wound, his free one now nestling its way into Cas’ hair of its own accord, playing soothingly in the curls. He didn’t know how to console him, or even if it would do anything to make Cas feel better, but he hoped it was a comforting gesture. Seeing as Cas relaxed, if only slightly, it seemed his instinct was right. He made sure to keep soothing circles in Cas’ hair. “You assbutt,” Cas breathed out, wincing at the pain.

Dean let out a small laugh. “Yep, that’s me.” Breathing in, he met Castiel’s eyes. “Cas, I need you to not… freak out. This is going to feel a little weird, but you’ll be fine. Just trust me.”

Cas looked up at him so openly, those blue eyes piercing his own green. He could see the hesitation in his gaze. Dean quirked his mouth to the side. “I won’t let you die. I promise,” he assured, using what Cas had told him earlier.

Cas’ lips twitched up, if only a little, which Dean felt like an absolute win. He wanted to see him smile more. Just like that, his hesitation cleared. He nodded his head, giving Dean permission to continue.

Closing his eyes, he pictured Cas’ shoulder, arm, and cheek. He saw the injuries in his mind and how it was supposed to be. He imagined the bone not being shattered, the tendon knitting itself back together, the skin closing itself up again.

Dean heard Cas gasp and opened his eyes. The injuries were almost done healing, the shoulder taking longer. He watched Cas’ reaction as he placed his hand on his cheek, the cut now gone. He unwrapped the bandage covering his arm, seeing the cut healed as well. Finally, the shoulder was back to normal.

Dean only watched as Cas opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Opened it again, and closed it again. He realized it was a lot to take in. Instead of moving, Dean just continued to stroke Cas’ hair and closed his eyes, enjoying the feathery feel of the hair in his fingers. It was so soft and just felt so right in his hand.

“What are you humming?” Cas asked quickly. Dean startled, not realizing he had been humming.  Cas was staring at him, his eyes wide. “Please, either tell me the song or a story, or something, to distract me from screaming.”

He looked down and saw Cas watching him with a pleading look, transfixed on his face. With the fire’s reflection, Cas’ eyes seemed to glow in the dark.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t actually know what the song is. I know where I learned it though, but you have to promise not to laugh for sounding crazy.”

“After watching my arm heal before my very eyes, I don’t think there are many things that would make me call you crazy.”

Dean glanced away, not wanting to meet his eyes. “When I was a child, when I was sad or… in pain,” he explained. Dean vividly remembered when he was first learning how to heal himself, after his father had gotten upset that he was taking too long to heal. It just led to more instances of learning to heal. “I would dream of this woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. If I was hurt at all, I would dream of her singing and it would comfort me.”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “She’d sing to me and say, ‘Carry on my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more’. I guess the song always stuck with me when I needed some sort of comfort. Figured you could use some comfort right about now.”

“Why do you think I would laugh at that?” Cas asked with zero judgment in his tone, as if his explanation was perfectly normal.

He shrugged, trying to play it off, even if he was relieved that Cas seemed to be past freaking out. “I mean, to find a man living in a tower for 25 years is one thing. To hear that he believes in a mysterious singing woman? Even my father thought it was a crazy notion.” Dean shoved down that familiar sting of hurt as he thought of his father’s reaction when he had first told him. He was waiting for the inevitable remark from Cas on his delusions, or the tight grip on his arm to signal he should stop talking.

To his shock, Cas didn’t say anything. He just continued to look up at Dean, still laying across his lap. “If you don’t mind my asking, what was it like growing up with the ability to heal? I know that when I was a child, I thought myself invincible, even when I clearly was not. But with the ability to heal, did you find yourself invincible?”

Dean laughed, the question startling him. Somehow, he wasn’t expecting Cas to ask that out of all things. “Absolutely. Once I knew I could heal myself, I went around doing a bunch of dumb things. I remember one day, I thought it would be a good idea to jump from the top of the stairs and see if I could make it all the way down,” he recounted, smiling at the memory. “My father was furious, wondering what the commotion was. He came out of his room to see me sprawled out maybe seven steps down the stairs? I didn’t even make it halfway. It didn’t help that I rolled down a couple.”

Dean decided to keep on sharing, even though normally, he probably would have stopped. It was as much to keep distracting Cas, as it was to be honest with him. He figured he deserved as much, considering if it hadn’t been for himself, Cas would have never been wounded in the first place.

“As for my powers themselves, they weren’t easy to master at first. My father told me that I needed to learn to heal myself quickly and efficiently, to stop being useless. He tested me time and time again, putting my skills to the test to see how I progressed. I saw that woman almost every day for years, as I learned to heal myself.”

Dean shuddered at the memories, all the days his father would leave disappointed or enraged at his failures, no matter how hard he tried. How his father held Dean as he cried from the pain in his cheek, even if his father was the one who inflicted the pain. The stairs had been no different, when his ankle throbbed painfully yet his father was upset at him for being unable to make it stop.

He let out a sigh. “A power like that, it was something precious. Even when I didn’t have control over it, my father told me I had to be protected. The monsters in the world couldn’t get their hands on me; on the power. So that’s why he never let me-,” Dean trailed off, swallowing. “So I- I never left.”

“And, you’re still going back to that life after this?” Cas asked softly. Dean shook his head.

“No,” he answered, not wanting it to be the same. But as he thought about it, would things really change when he went back home? After all, he would see the capital and know there was more to life, but things would continue on as they had been. After a moment, he amended his statement. “Yes? Maybe? I don’t know.”

Dean stiffened as a hand touched his cheek. Cas swiped his thumb across his skin, comforting him.  Realizing there was no blow to come with the touch, he immediately leaned into it, not understanding why he craved the comfort from it.

After a moment though, Dean straightened, quickly realizing just how much he had shared with this man he barely knew. He drew back and removed his hand from Cas’ hair, clapping his hands together. He chuckled without any humor behind it. “So that’s me. Aren’t you glad you got stuck with a burden like me on this mess of a journey? Someone who believes in random monsters and no humans, someone who messes up everything?”

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to keep his emotions in check. “It would’ve been better if I hadn’t left in the first place,” he admitted quietly into the silent night.

Cas sat up and stared at him intently. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved,” he stated. Dean sucked in a breath, refusing to acknowledge the truth in Cas’ words. He shook his head, refusing to look at his friend.

Without warning, arms wrapped around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Dean sat there dumbfounded for a moment before he sagged in Cas’ arms, feeling safe in the hug. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had given him a hug, if at all - he simply patted Dean on the head and went on his way.

Not quite knowing the proper response, Dean returned the gesture, wrapping his arms tightly around Cas’ waist.

Warmth pooled in his stomach as he held onto his friend. Dean truly didn’t know how long they sat there, unmoving. The only gesture that time was passing was Cas rubbing small circles into Dean’s back in a comforting motion. He just knew that he would cherish this moment for the rest of his life, regardless of how bittersweet he felt.

“Dean, you’re not a burden. I don’t know why you think that, or why someone made you think that, but it simply isn’t true. You’re a good man and you deserved to be saved just as much as anyone else,” Cas assured.

Dean shook his head, trying to pull away from the embrace, but Cas had his arms locked around him. He didn’t have the energy to fight it, and instead, stayed where he was. “You say that now, but just wait. You’ll see that I’m not that,” he argued, his doubt taking hold of him like always. His father’s words circled in his mind through the years, being drilled into him over and over. No, if Cas saw what he truly was, just a messed-up kid with freaky powers, he would leave.

“That is not true. I think I reserve the right to believe if you’re a good man or not,” Cas said. Dean didn’t try to argue, knowing that Cas was stubborn in his beliefs. “Good things do happen, Dean. Even to you.”

He laughed humourlessly. “Yeah. Tell that to someone who hasn’t been dreaming about monsters his entire life and lived in a tower for 25 years.”

Cas tightened his hold around Dean. “This is strange for me to say, but I don’t regret meeting you. As someone who has been hit over the head with a frying pan multiple times, threatened with a dagger, shot with an arrow, and nearly drowned in the past two days, I think I’d have more reservations, but I don’t. I am glad I met you, Dean, whether you believe me or not. Even if you are an assbutt at times.”

Dean rolled his eyes, trying to act as if the words didn’t affect him. Truly though, no one, not even his father, had said things like that before, and it meant everything coming from Cas. He didn’t say a word, not knowing what he could say to not make it awkward. His every instinct told him to run away from his friend, as he just shared a part of himself that he didn’t even usually acknowledge. Yet, his heart told him to stay.

Cas finally pulled back, freeing Dean from the embrace. He couldn’t help but crave the warmth from it, as the coolness of the night hit him suddenly. He watched as Cas flexed his arm, admiring his shoulder and arm. Noticing a mark on his forearm, one that had not been there before, Dean frowned. “Sorry about the scar on your arm there. Usually, it doesn’t leave a mark but I think my shoddy stitches left its imprint.”

Cas only looked at it fondly, tracing his fingers over the scar. “It’s alright. It’ll be a permanent memory now, and not a bad one at that.” He still held his arm in his hands, seeming out of place. Dean didn’t know why his heart leapt, as he found the gesture endearing.

“May I ask a question? If you don’t wish to answer it, that’s also okay,” Cas asked suddenly, stumbling over his words.

Dean chuckled. “Cas, I just told you more about me than anyone would ever want to know. What’s your question?”

Cas tilted his head. “Why do you call me Cas?”

Any joy that Dean had felt went cold. He sat back quickly, trying to scramble away, suddenly feeling incredibly out of place. He struggled for a reason. “I’m sorry. I never thought to ask if you were okay with it. If you don’t want me to call you that, that’s fine. I just –,” he started to explain.

“No, no, no. It’s alright. I actually rather enjoy the name,” Cas rushed in before he could make a fool out of himself apologizing, placing his hands gently on Dean’s wrists, rooting him in place. “It’s just. I grew up with three older brothers. It was either Castiel from Michael, Asstiel from Lucifer, or Cassie from Gabriel. No matter the circumstance, it was either serious or a mockery, nowhere in between.”

He waved his hands dramatically. “‘Castiel, why are you such a disappointment? You hear those pigs, Asstiel? Your real family is calling to you. Cassie, go kiss that frog. Maybe he’ll turn into a handsome prince for you.’ It’s always been the same. But then here you come, and start calling me Cas, yet you don’t say it with contempt or because you’re teasing me. You just… say it,” Castiel explained.

Dean shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say. “I guess it just felt natural? Jimmy just never suited you, so I always called you sweetheart. That, as you may have guessed, was to piss you off and it was fun to see you look disgusted each time,” he admitted. Cas glared at him, even though he could see the glare didn’t reach his eyes, but Dean continued. “When you told me your name was Castiel, I don’t know. Castiel seemed so formal but Cas, it just seemed like it fit you.”

Cas gave him a soft smile and Dean found himself immediately feeling better, as it was more of a smile than he had seen this entire trip. “Well then, you’d be the first to see it that way. But thank you, Dean.”

Dean felt Cas brush his thumb over his wrist lightly. It was only a faint touch but Dean jumped, a small giggle bursting out of him abruptly. He could feel Cas’ eyes boring into him.

“Dean. Are you… ticklish?” Cas asked, securing his grip on his wrists, keeping him in place. He traced a finger gently over his pulse and Dean yelped out a bubble of laughter.

“Nope. Just a tad sensitive. That’s all,” Dean coughed, wriggling vigorously to get out of his hold.

Cas stared him down, pulling him closer. Dean gulped as Cas transferred both of his wrists into the grip of one hand. “Are you sure about that?”

He flashed a smile, tracking every movement as Cas reached out his unoccupied hand. “Yep, I’m sure. I should know. I –,” he tried to reason, his voice cracking as Cas’ fingers played over his hip.

“What was it you said earlier? I don’t know how to have fun?” Cas said softly, lightly tracing his thumb over his waist. Dean was having a hard time not laughing, screwing his lips together to not make a sound. He watched as a smile formed on Cas’ face. If he wasn’t focused on keeping from laughing, he would have whooped for being able to make Cas smile. “I think I may know one thing fun. And this time, I’m actually being honest.”

The pressure from Cas’ hand grew heavier on his hip, pressing into his side. Dean laughed unexpectedly, immediately squirming away from the touch, shifting his weight away while Cas still held his arms. “Ca-Cas, please,” Dean tried, barking out another chuckle from his delicate touch.

Cas’ smile only grew, almost showing teeth, and Dean knew he was doomed, even as he himself was smiling. Cas pulled Dean closer on the log, his attempts to escape futile. He felt the warmth of Cas’ hand leave his wrists and he saw his chance. Dean stood up quickly, trying to run.

Sturdy arms wrapped around his waist, locking his arms in place and holding him steady. “Come on, Dean. Just lighten up,” Cas said quietly in his ear, the ass. His fingers dug into Dean’s sides and he laughed, the touch sending him giggling.

“I’m. Not. Ti-ticklish,” Dean reasoned between puffs of laughter. He squirmed, elbowing Cas in the ribs. He heard a small ‘oof’ and the grip on him loosened just enough to be released.

Dean ran, grinning like an idiot, as he heard Cas following him. Using the dark to his advantage, he sprinted in the forest, hiding behind a tree, trying to catch his breath. Dean peeked out from his hiding spot, not hearing Cas anymore. He saw the campfire, his satchel and Sam both on the log, but no sign of Cas.

Dean leaned further out, searching for his friend. Where could he have gone? He shouldn’t be far. After all, there was no place to –.

Something tackled him from behind, throwing him to the ground. He hit the earth with a small groan, his face deep in a pile of leaves, a weight pressed on top of him. Dean turned his face to the side, seeing a hand pressed into the ground next to him.

“Do you surrender yet?” a voice whispered in his ear, filled with amusement. Dean grinned.

“Absolutely not,” he challenged, even if he knew that Cas had literally every advantage at the moment. The weight on him lifted as a strong hand gripped his arm, flipping him onto his back, before returning. Dean stared up at those familiar blue eyes, the grin on Cas’ face sealing his fate as he leaned over Dean.

“As you wish.” With those words, Cas attacked Dean’s sides, poking him all over. He cackled, trying to catch his breath, his arms coming up to his chest defensively to stop the onslaught of tickling. He couldn’t tell where his laughs stopped and Cas’ chuckles began. It was thrilling to hear Cas laugh, even if he was facing the consequences.

Dean let out a very manly shriek when Cas pressed his fingers just above his armpit. He saw Cas’ eyes light up with glee, momentarily pausing his assault to his sides. “Dean, Dean, Dean. You are just full of surprises.”

“Come on, man. Have mercy on me,” Dean pleaded, trying to spare himself further embarrassment. Cas only smiled again, ignoring his request. Dean found himself entranced by that smile, but his focus faded quickly as Cas continued to tickle him. He began to alternate between Dean’s sides and under his arms, following no distinct pattern, not allowing Dean to have any idea of where he might strike next.

He couldn’t even curl up his legs protectively, as Cas was sitting on them, straddling his hips. Dean’s stomach was terribly sore from laughing and he had tears streaming down his face, with Cas not giving up, relentlessly pestering him.

Dean slowly held his hands up, as much as he could without giving Cas a better vantage point, his resolve breaking. “Alri-ha-ght, alright! I surr-surr-ACK!” he tried, Cas pressing a particular sensitive spot. “SURRENDER! Aheheha, I surrender! You w-win!” he declared reluctantly through his fits of laughter, trying to remember how to breathe properly.

Cas stopped trying to tickle him to death, giving him a small reprieve. However, Dean’s ability to breathe faltered when Cas placed his hands on the ground on both sides of Dean’s head, leaning directly over him. That small smile playing at Cas’ lips was killing him in the best way possible, his hooded eyes glinting in the faint firelight, hovering inches above his face. Dean didn’t know why he had erratic butterflies in his stomach, his pulse quickening not from the tickling.

“Don’t think that this will be the last time you find yourself at the mercy of me and my tickling fingers,” Cas promised, staring into Dean’s eyes. He tried opening his mouth for a response, but any sense of being able to speak flew from his brain watching Cas stare down at him with delight.

A strand of hair fell down across Cas’ forehead, an anomaly on his otherwise perfect face. Dean didn’t even think. His hand automatically reached up, pushing it back and away from Cas’ forehead. Those strange butterflies stirred even more when a small laugh escaped Cas’ lips, his eyes closed.

Dean felt the warmth leave him as Cas pushed himself off, standing up, dusting himself off. A part of him was disappointed that it couldn’t last any longer; one which he didn’t understand, but might be beginning to.

“I’m going to go get some more firewood. I’ll be back momentarily,” Cas announced abruptly to him, clearing his throat and walking towards the campfire, before heading into the forest without any further comment.

Dean nodded, watching his friend walk into the woods fondly. He shook himself out of his dazed stupor on the ground and smiled, wondering how much his life had changed in the past couple of days.

“Well thank God he finally left. I was worried the two of you were going to spend the entire evening gazing into each other’s eyes,” a voice said. Dean’s heart stopped, being able to recognize that voice anywhere. He immediately shot to his feet, his back straight as a rod.

“Father?” he questioned, before turning around. Sure enough, there was his father standing within paces of him. His hair had seemed to grey slightly since the day before, when Dean had refreshed him before his journey. Had it really the previous morning since he had last seen him? It felt like it had been so much longer with Cas.

His father smiled at him. Even in the short time they had spent together, he was growing fond of Cas’ smiles – the softness of the smallest ones, where the edges of his lips quirked up, or the larger ones where he showed his teeth and looked at Dean with glee. Somehow, compared to those, his father’s was no longer pleasant to look at. “Come on. Is that any way to greet your old man,” his father exclaimed walking up to him and opening his arms, as if for a hug. When Dean didn’t react, both from shock that his father was even asking for a hug as well as not quite wanting to hug him, his father dropped his arms, giving him a quizzical look.

“How- how did you find me?” Dean asked, truly shocked. Not that he wasn’t happy to see his father again, but he felt almost apprehensive.

His father waved him off. “Oh, I just followed the sound of complete and utter betrayal and it led me straight to you. Isn’t it funny how life turns out?” His father grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. “Now it’s about time we go home, Dean.”

“But wait,” Dean wriggled his hand out of his father’s grip, trying to think of what to say. He figured I feel like you’ve lied to me for years wouldn’t cut it, so he settled for something simpler. “I’ve been on such an exciting journey. I’ve learned so much and I… I even met someone.”

His father clapped his hands together. “Yes, yes. The wanted thief. I’m so proud of you. Look at my boy, all grown up.” His father patted him on the head. For one of the first times in Dean’s life, he realized how condescending it felt. “Now let’s go.”

“But I don’t want to. I think,” Dean hesitated. He gave a small smile. “I think he likes me,” he admitted. Sure, he hadn’t met people other than Cas and his father, but he seemed genuine. He was to the point, being very literal, with a particular sense of humor, but he was also kind and honest. Or at least now, he was honest with Dean, since they decided to continue the journey together, rather than solely for their deal.

His father, on the other hand, just snorted. “Likes you? Please Dean, that’s demented. You see, this is why you never should have left, I feared this may happen. You’re coming up with these wishes of friendship, possible romance even, inventing them as you please. It just goes to show you aren’t ready for the world yet.”

Dean sighed. His father wasn’t done yet though. “Truly Dean. What makes you think he might like you? Look at yourself. Just really look at yourself.” Dean did as his father asked, looking down at himself. It wasn’t anything different than he had looked for the past couple of days, just a bit more dirty. “You’re covered in mud and leaves, your bare feet are facing together, and you smell like you’ve been dead for a week. You’re such a mess, and you think he’s impressed? Don’t be stupid. Come with me. Remember who knows best,” his father reprimanded, holding out his hand.

Dean was fed up with the way that his father was treating him. Cas didn’t make him feel like he was nothing more than a mess, and that was something he hadn’t felt in… well, ever. Clamping his hands into fists, Dean glared at his father. “No,” he said defiantly, drawing confidence from his faith in Cas.

“No?” his father asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. Dean almost regretted his words - almost. He was cautious as he watched his father’s face shift, narrowing his eyes at Dean, his gaze becoming predatory. “Oh, I see. Two days out on his own and suddenly Dean knows best. He’s such a brilliant young man, so very clever and mature,” his father mocked. “Fine then, if you’re so certain about your handsome hero there, why don’t you go ahead and give him this?”

Dean gasped, seeing the amulet suddenly hanging in his father’s hand. “How did you –,” he started but his father interrupted him.

“This is the only reason that he is here Dean. Can’t you see that he’s manipulating you? He’s using use, with your fragile heart. Don’t let him deceive you. Give it to him, and watch and see.”

Dean bit his lip, as his father frowned. “Oh what, not so confident now, are we Dean?” His father gripped his palm and placed the amulet there. His father’s rough hand then proceeded to grab his chin, forcing him to look him in the eyes, almost hard enough to bruise. “Trust me, the moment you turn your back,” his father snapped his fingers, “that’s how quickly he’ll be gone. But don’t listen to me. No, no. Trust in your dream boy over there, put him to the test.”

His father pushed him away forcibly, causing him to stumble backwards, and started walking away from him, back into the forest. Dean thrust out his hand. “Father, wait!” he called after him.

His father only looked over his shoulder and pouted at Dean. “If he is lying, if he does break your heart, just know that I’ll be waiting for you. I won’t say I told you so. But when you come crying to me, just remember, I know best.” With that, his father disappeared into the foggy night, leaving Dean with the amulet, which felt like it was burning a hole through his palm.

Dean, are you alright? Sam asked, laying on the ground beside the satchel, chewing on grass, only pausing his snack to ask the question. He couldn’t come up with a response. He was too overwhelmed. However, he didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“Hey Dean, are there any side effects of your healing?” Dean heard Cas call out. Tripping over himself to hide the evidence, he shoved the amulet into his satchel hastily and sat down on the log, facing the forest around them. He tried to look nonchalant and absolutely failed. He just placed his head in his hands and remained still. He felt Sammy nestle against his leg, the presence comforting, but he was still distressed. “I mean, I’m just curious because a scar is one thing. But to have powers to go along with that would be stupendous.”

Though Dean heard the words, he didn’t register them. He was still reeling from seeing his father and what he had said. Was Cas really just there to follow through on their deal? He was so sure that Cas wanted to be there because he wanted to be. He had said as much, since the Roadhouse. But what if it was all a trick? And if it was, why would he comfort Dean, or set up that tickling fight?

He pressed his palms into his eyes, hating that his father could get him to doubt everything so quickly. He didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. Dean finally believed he might actually be beginning to understand the world, but just like that, he doubted everything.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder and he nearly jumped. Cas was looking down at him fairly concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, mustering up a smile. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I was just… lost in thought. That’s all,” he lied through his teeth. He was the furthest thing from good but he didn’t want Cas dealing with that.

Cas didn’t seem to believe his lie. Not wanting to say anymore, Dean quickly changed subjects. “So how did firewood collecting turn out?”

If Castiel noticed the change in topics, he didn’t mention it, for which Dean was grateful. Instead, he sat down beside Dean on the log and began to talk endlessly. “Fairly good. It’s quite interesting to look at the different trees that they have here in the forest and how each of them burns differently. For example, pine burns like,” Cas started to explain. Dean only smiled, listening to his friend passionately rant about trees. His ramblings shifted courses to plants and insects. He got particularly excited when he started talking about bees, his hand movements becoming much more dramatic than usual, a small present on his face, and Dean’s heart swelled.

In that moment, Dean realized he didn’t care what his father said. He trusted Cas. He was honest with him, and they seemed to enjoy each other’s company. He would give him the amulet some time when they got to the capital. He would prove to his father that Cas was there because he liked Dean and that maybe, just maybe, when they were done visiting the capital, he and Cas would still be friends.

Chapter Text

Something cold against his neck roused Castiel from what was a more peaceful sleep than he had had in a long time. He was immediately alert, widening his eyes to see Bobby with his sword to his throat, a confused look on his face. “I’ve been chasing you for how long and never once have you been sleeping like that. You and your partners always know when even one of the guards are anywhere near you. What’d ya do, get hit on the head or something?”

Castiel swallowed, trying to come up with a plan. Bobby could have easily killed him in his sleep, that much was obvious. Even now, the opportunity was still open, and he could do nothing about it. However, the reason for his restful sleep was a large concern.

Glancing to his side, Castiel saw Dean leaning against him, his head using Castiel’s shoulder as a pillow as he continued to sleep, completely unaware at the danger they were in. It was strange to think that somehow, they had gone from enemies to friends within a couple of days. He was sure something had changed between the two of them last night, as Dean healed him and spoke more about his life.

Even Dean calling him ‘Cas’ was a completely new experience, yet he found he enjoyed the nickname, finding it invigorating. As the night had continued on, they had stayed up talking for quite some time, and apparently had fallen asleep next to each other.

That worried him incredibly. He was letting Dean get close, closer than he could afford, and it was already costing him. He had fallen asleep happily for the first time in years, yet here he was, already paying the consequences. He could not let that happen again.

He looked back up at Bobby. “Are you going to let Dean go?” Castiel asked, the sword still at his throat. He knew he was in a world of trouble and it should have been the least of his concerns, more focused on his own life, but if Dean could go free, it was something good.

To his surprise, Bobby grunted out what he could only assume was a laugh, slowly removing the sword from Castiel’s neck. “If I wanted to arrest you, I would’ve done it when you were sleeping.” He gestured to Dean, who still slept soundly beside him. “Wake the kid.” With that, he walked out of Castiel’s line of sight behind them. He turned his neck to the guard, following him as he stopped towards the tree line, giving them a wide berth.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the man, but did as he was asked and nudged Dean. He murmured slightly, but besides that, didn’t stir. He tried again a bit more forcefully. “Dean, wake up.”

Dean waved him off. “Fuv mer mibdits,” he mumbled into his shoulder, turning over. Of course he wasn’t a morning person. Castiel rolled his eyes, as he could practically feel Bobby’s prying gaze on the back of his neck.

He needed Dean up now. “Dean, the cliffside is crumbling! You’re about to fall off,” Castiel stage-whispered, sounding panicked, knowing it would do the trick.

Dean flailed, scrambling at air, frantically grappling at the log for purchase. Castiel watched the spectacle unfold, knowing Bobby was probably doing the same. Dean looked to his left and right rapidly, before he directed his gaze at Castiel, trying to find the danger. He could see Dean’s chest moving up and down rapidly, his hand pressed against his heart.

Dean’s widened eyes quickly narrowed, looking betrayed that he was woken up. Evidently, he had not noticed Bobby behind them. “Dammit Cas,” Dean grumbled, falling back against the log, closing his eyes. “What the hell, man?”

“We have an unexpected visitor,” Castiel stated, gesturing behind them to where Bobby was waiting. That got Dean’s attention, as he immediately sat up and straightened, a mixture of emotions flitting across his face before it fell into his mask of neutrality.

Perhaps Castiel was imagining things, but he could have sworn that he saw dread fill Dean’s face, which struck him as odd. Fear was expected, but dread? That seemed out of place.

Regardless though, it was time to deal with the matter at hand. Castiel stood, offering his hand to Dean, who took one look at it and swatted it away. He pushed himself off the ground, his hair all over the place, muttering to himself, Castiel distinctly hearing ‘bitch’ under his breath. Clearly, Dean was more upset over having been woken up, as opposed to a palace guard in their midst.

“You asked for him to be up, so now we are both awake. What do you want, Bobby, if not to turn me in?” Castiel asked, cutting straight to the point. The quicker Bobby explained whatever excuses he had for not arresting him, the quicker Castiel could get the two of them out of there. If Bobby was there, he was sure there had to be other guards not far behind. He ignored the way Dean was glancing between the two of them, trying to piece together how they knew each other. He would tell him later.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Because Ellen thought you two boys would get into trouble if someone didn’t look out for you. After you and I saw each other last, I went searching for you, but couldn’t find a trace. Went back home and she told me ya idjits were out wandering like a bunch of tourists trying to find the capital.”

Castiel was completely uneasy, not trusting his words. He knew that Bobby had originally been looking for him when he met Dean, but he didn’t think Ellen would send him after them if she knew what had transpired. “I have to admit, you really did good stumping Gordon with the dam. He and his platoon are out for blood. Took me all damn night to find ya,” Bobby complimented.

Castiel still didn’t believe the story but Dean stepped forward. “You know Ellen? Roadhouse Ellen?”

“I should say so. I married the woman after all. If I didn’t know her, we’d have a different issue,” Bobby answered. It lined up with what he knew of Ellen, as he knew her last name was Singer. He didn’t think that she would send a guard member to find him though, even if he was her husband.

“And why should we trust you, Bobby? You and I have been on less than cordial terms for a long time now, and you know it,” he accused. He and Bobby had had their share of meetings over the years. The older man tried talking to Castiel – whether from pity or something else, he didn’t know. But it at least made the man slightly tolerable. However, that didn’t mean he trusted the guard.

Bobby pulled at his uniform, looking exasperated. “Do you think it’s any more fun for me to be chasing after you, day in and day out? Yer a slippery kid, and you give me more grief than anyone else in the kingdom.” Castiel could understand that. He wasn’t the kindest to the guards over the years, as he and his brothers sprung traps, pulled various heists, or stole different valuables. “Being a guard pays the bills, but it gives me the time to help others. Usually, that means protecting the people from criminals such as yerself.”

“Yes, well, you’re certainly making me feel better about this situation,” Castiel snapped, crossing his arms in front of him. He was not buying the story. Even if Bobby had had the opportunity to arrest him, or even kill him for that matter, and hadn’t taken the chance, it did not make him feel any more certain. If anything, that made him more wary. It had to be some sort of trick.

“Wouldja not interrupt and listen to me for a damn minute?” Bobby grunted, evidently annoyed at him. Castiel held his tongue, obliging the request. He could be civil about this, even if the last thing he wanted was to be near any soldier, including Bobby. “Thank you,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Now, as I was saying, it ain’t worth much, but I do my best to make a difference by protecting the people of this kingdom when they need help. In this case, I guess today, yer the ones that need help,” Bobby explained. He nodded to Dean. “Ellen said that you’re trying to get to the capital for the first time. If you accept my help, I can make sure that you boys have no run ins with the other guards and get there in one piece.”

Castiel wanted to deny him outright, still glaring at Bobby, but Dean put a hand on his shoulder, motioning him to turn away with him to discuss.

“I think we should listen to him,” Dean suggested, looking back at the man.

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up, absolutely shocked. “You can’t be serious. You’re going to take his word?” he hissed. He would’ve thought Dean of all people would be the skeptical one. “Dean, I know you don’t know him, but I do. He’s a member of the royal guard and has been chasing me for years. He was the one after me in the forest when I came across your tower. And suddenly he’s asking if he can come with us to the capital for our protection, and you want to trust him? He woke me up with his sword to my throat, Dean. That does not put him in my good graces.”

He glanced back at Bobby, who was studying them, a crease in his eyebrows. Castiel narrowed his eyes before turning back to Dean.

Dean gave him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, when we first met, I knocked you out with a frying pan and tied you up, giving you no reason to trust me other than our deal, yet here we are, working together. At least he’s giving us some reason to trust him. He’s Ellen’s husband, and if she told him to look out for us, I’m going to take her at her word.” Dean smiled at him innocently. “You don’t have to trust him, just trust me.”

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes and they stared at each other, seeing who would be the first to back down. After a few moments, Castiel’s fight drained out of him. He scrubbed his face top to the bottom, ignoring the smirk on Dean’s face. He had won, and he knew it.

However, looking into Dean’s eyes, Castiel noticed for the first time the golden flecks, glowing in the sun and blending with the green. The freckles that were dusted across Dean’s nose and cheeks were like dozen of small stars and he wanted to count them all.

“You two boys done gazing at each other or are you going to let me come with ya?” Bobby interrupted, Castiel’s head snapping towards him, blinking rapidly. Why did he suddenly get caught up looking at Dean? He dug his nails into the palm of his hand, willing himself to clear his head. That was going to be a problem if his emotions persisted while with Dean, more so than they already were trying to get a hold on him.

“You’re good to come with us,” Dean replied instantly, not letting Castiel try and argue further, even if he trusted Dean and Dean, for some reason, trusted Bobby. He ignored the smirk growing on Dean’s face, instead directing his attention to Bobby.

“Yes. It seems we have come to an arrangement where you will come with us,” Castiel agreed, not bothering to hide his disdain from his tone, narrowing his eyes at the man.

“Well thank you for yer undying enthusiasm,” Bobby drawled. Castiel heard a quiet snicker from beside him. He shot a glare at Dean, who quickly covered his laughter with a cough. He rolled his eyes at his companion, as Bobby sighed. “If you boys want to get there and still have time to enjoy yerselves, then we best be getting a move on. It’s harder to get there later in the day, as more patrols wander then.”

Castiel bowed mockingly. “Then feel free to lead the way, oh faithful guide,” he said, remembering the way Dean had made fun of him when they first started their journey. He made a dramatic flourish with his hand in the general direction of the capital, receiving a grunt from the soldier, before he trudged along into the woods, grumbling under his breath. Dean let a small laugh, seeming to remember his words too.

Dean grabbed his bag from the log, making sure Sam was secure, and slung it over his shoulders, following behind Bobby. Castiel stayed beside him, making sure they trailed a distance behind the older man just in case they needed time to react.

Much to his surprise, there were no traps planned for them along their path. Staying true to his word, Bobby emerged out of the woods with the capital just across the large stone bridge. While the guard continued walking to the bridge, Castiel stopped to stare, as he was pleasantly surprised at the sight of the city. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been here for a reason other than stealing.

It was a beautiful city, even that much he could admit. With cream colored walls surrounding the  outer edge that matched the castle’s exterior, it was coordinated, making a person feel cozy. Many of the buildings were vibrant and stood out from each other, yet still fit together very well.  

Castiel turned to Dean and saw that he was frozen in place, his knuckles white as he latched onto his satchel’s sling. He was staring at the city like it was a nightmare that he couldn’t look away from. Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, causing the man to jump. He looked down at Castiel, his eyes clouded with worry.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked, trying to keep any trace of worry out of his voice. He knew how much being here meant to Dean, and if something was wrong, he wanted to fix it, internally cursing himself for caring.  

If he could see himself a few days ago, he would be shaking himself for being concerned for someone else; to run away as fast as he could, instead of letting himself be drawn in.

Dean looked away, turning back to the city before them. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just,” Dean hesitated, biting his lip unconsciously. His eyes flickered down to Dean’s lips for a split second at the action, before quickly looking back up, waiting for Dean to continue. “It just seems so surreal that I’m actually here, you know? I mean, I always hoped that one day, I’d be able to come, but I never thought it would actually be a reality. It feels too much like a dream.”

Castiel was troubled at those words, much to his own dismay. It was upsetting to him to see Dean like this, so scared to believe that this was true. He wanted to throttle whoever had made Dean believe that he couldn’t go out into the world, wasn’t worthy of its wonders, but he squashed those feelings down. He needed to remain unattached to this man, for both of their sakes, yet it was going to be more difficult than he wanted.

Externally though, he gave Dean the best reassuring smile he could, squeezing his shoulder. “This is real. You’re here, Sam’s here, I’m here. If this wasn’t real, I’m pretty sure you would have had a guide who is not a grumpy old man or a wanted thief.” Dean chuckled, and if that sound didn’t make Castiel’s heart soar. He quickly stamped down that joy.

Not knowing how to get Dean to continue, Castiel said the first thing he could think of. “Hey, if you want proof that you’re here, I could always tickle you some more. After all, that seemed to -,” he started.

Dean immediately jumped out of reach, keeping a distance from Castiel before he could continue. He smiled, if only slightly, glad to get Dean focused on something else. “You know what, I think Bobby is waiting for us. Looks like we better go see him,” Dean explained as he spun on his heel, practically racing to the older man.

Castiel followed behind him, catching up quickly. Bobby gave the two of them a confused look, before shaking his head. “Well, now that we’re here, what do you boys want to do first?” he asked them, leading the group across the bridge and officially into the capital.

Chapter Text

Dean didn’t know where to look besides literally everywhere. Sammy was on his shoulder, also looking around at everything new. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, his father’s warnings from all throughout the years were going off like bells, telling him to get out of there and find some place to hide, but every other part of him was thoroughly entranced by everything. He was only vaguely aware of Cas standing beside him and Bobby in front of them, as he took in the city.

There were people everywhere. Children were running around, chasing each other with wooden swords, laughing and smiling. Adults were standing around and chatting, watching over the kids.

“Dean, you can put the spoon away,” Cas whispered beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. He hadn’t realized he had even grabbed the utensil from his bag. Still wary of the people and not knowing if they were monsters, but trying to trust Cas, he put the silver back in his satchel, returning his focus back to the environment around him.

There were little booths where people were giving away things to others in exchange for some sort of token. Selling, he corrected himself, as Cas had mentioned on their first day when Dean had asked him, after passing by a ‘travelling merchant’, Cas said.

He still didn’t really understand that process, why people needed to do an exchange, instead of just giving things to others, but he supposed he still had a lot to learn about the world.

A scent hit his nose and it was what Dean could only describe as Heaven. Placing Sam back in his satchel, he immediately latched onto Cas’ wrist, pulling him towards where the smell was coming from. He heard a small laugh from Cas, which made his stomach flutter, but he ignored it in favor of figuring out what the delicious smell was. Following his nose, Dean dragged them on a journey through the city.

Dean pulled them to a stop when he came in front of a small place with food in the window. The sign over top said “Charlie’s Baked Goods.” Dean looked to Cas for an explanation. “What are these?” he asked, even as he dragged Cas inside the door. The smell was overwhelmingly wonderful inside.

“Desserts? You know, like cakes, turnovers, cookies?” Cas said, as if that were any sort of explanation. His eyes widened immensely, looking at Dean incredulously. “Dean, please tell me you’ve had dessert before.”

He looked away quickly, not wanting Cas to see the embarrassment flooding his cheeks. “Well, I uh-,” he stammered out, not wanting to seem like a complete fool but utterly failing.

“Hey bitches! What can I get for you?” a female voice flitted over to them, saving Dean from his excuses.

He looked at the woman behind the counter. She was quite shorter than Dean was, only coming up to his shoulder at most, with fiery red, short, curly hair. She smiled up at the two of them and Dean instantly liked her. “Is that how you usually greet most of your visitors?” Dean asked, smiling, failing to remember what the word was for people who bought things, but hopefully she understood.

The lady shrugged. “People in the town are usually pretty easy-going, so most customers don’t mind a casual introduction. Besides,” she gestured her head at the window. “You two are travelling with my father-in-law so I automatically assumed you had to be decent people.”

“You’re Jo’s wife,” Cas said, and Dean couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement. The lady did a dramatic bow.

“That’s me. Charlie Bradbury. Now, what brings you to my fine establishment?” she introduced. Dean could hardly believe this was the owner of the place. She didn’t look much older than he was, possibly even younger, and yet she was married and had somewhere named after her?

“Do you make everything yourself?” Dean burst out, looking at the selection of desserts available to choose from. His mouth was beginning to water just staring at the foods. Each one looked delicious, even if he didn’t know what they were.

Charlie grinned at him. “Most things, yeah. I often have to wake up early in the day to bake everything and sometimes Jo helps me, but for the most part, it’s me.”

“You’re awesome,” Dean said, absolutely thrilled to just be there.

“Why thank you Mr.…” Charlie trailed off.

“Dean,” he supplied. He gestured beside him. “And this is-,”

“Jimmy. I know who you are,” she said. Dean felt Cas stiffen beside him. She just waved a hand at them though, as if it were just an everyday occurrence. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. If you’re hanging out with Bobby, obviously you can’t be that bad. Even thieves deserve some pie.”

Dean cocked his head. “What’s pie?” he whispered, leaning into Cas, trying to be discreet. Evidently, he hadn’t been quiet enough as Charlie gasped.

“You don’t know what pie is?” she accused, outraged. Dean only shook his head in response. She put a hand over her forehead, eyes rolling into her head. “Well, this is a tragedy of the utmost importance. We must fix this at once. I’ll be right back.” Dean watched her open a door behind her and slip out of view.

“Really though. What is pie?” he asked, turning to Cas, hoping that Charlie was out of earshot. Cas turned to him stoically.

“It’s a fancy name for a mixture of monkey and sheep innards that have been boiled in their own juices, cooked in dough, and baked to perfection. It’s quite popular, assuming you don’t mind the chewy bits,” Cas explained. Dean grew more horrified with each word, absolutely disgusted. It was only then that he noticed Cas’ eyes crinkled in amusement. He prayed that Cas was joking and that the wonderful smell was not from animal guts.

Cas’ amused expression didn’t fade when Charlie walked back through the door holding a small round object in the palms of her hands. She placed the food on the counter, taking fabric off of her hands. “There. One freshly baked mini pie, just for you.” Dean could only smell what he assumed was the pie, and it was fantastic.

He didn’t realize he was ogling the pie, until Charlie laughed and handed Dean a fork. “Go on, try it,” she urged. Dean watched as Cas tried to give her some of those tokens but she refused to take them from him. “This one is my treat. We need to teach him about the masterpiece of pie.”

Dean looked to Cas, who nodded. Tentatively, not knowing what to expect, Dean picked up the fork and broke the surface of the pie, getting the dough on top and the filling in between. He stared at it on his fork, wondering about the taste. He closed his eyes as he brought the piece to his lips. Please don’t be animal guts. Please don’t be animal guts, he pleaded to God, still not quite sure what the filling was made out of, and put the pie in his mouth.

The sensations that hit his tongue were indescribable. The dough was light and flaky, not too heavy or dry. He didn’t know what it was, to be perfectly honest, but it was great. The bread he made at home was soft and tasteful, but nowhere near as delicious as this. However, the filling was what really made the experience. It was sweet and fruity, with just the right amount of tartness that the sweet was not overwhelming to his tongue. It was an absolute explosion of flavors and he melted at the taste.

Dean couldn’t get another bite in quick enough. He moaned, as it was just as good as the first bite, maybe even better. It was everything he ever wanted, everything he ever needed, and so much more. He was beginning to think his soulmate was actually pie.

He grinned at his pie, loving it with all of his heart. He speared the slice with his fork and shoved it hastily at Cas. “You’ve gotta try this, buddy. It’s wonderful,” Dean explained, his eyes wide with joy.

Cas shook his head. “No, Dean. The pie is yours. Enjoy yourself,” Cas countered, crossing his arms.

Dean pouted. “Come on, Cas. Please try it,” he pleaded, wanting him to enjoy it too. He stared into Cas’ blue eyes and after a few moments, watched the resolve fade away from his face. Dean grinned as Cas rolled his eyes, opening his mouth.

He shoved the fork into Cas’ mouth, feeding him the piece. Dean’s smile widened, anticipating his reaction. Cas chewed very slowly, seeming to savour the pie. His eyebrows scrunched together, and Dean feared he didn’t like his newfound favorite food.

Cas swallowed the bite and Dean waited, wanting to know what he thought. “Well?” he prompted, anxiously awaiting his review. He didn’t know why he cared so much about Cas loving pie as much as he did.

Cas looked at him and a small smile grew on his face. “It is delicious,” he concluded. Dean pumped his fist into the air and whooped.

“All right!” he half-shouted, very excited over the pie, going in for more.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it,” Charlie said. Dean had genuinely forgotten she was there, focused so much on the pie itself and Cas.

“It’s awesome. You’re awesome,” he mumbled, his mouth full of pie. He gave some more to Cas, who seemed to reluctantly take what was offered, but Dean knew from the smile at the edges of his lips that he was enjoying it too.

By the time the pie was finished, Dean felt like he had gone through a life-changing experience. He didn’t care how he was going to do it; he was going to make his own pies. That was a promise to himself. Whether they were small like the one he had just eaten or larger, he didn’t care. He would have to ask his father for fruits, maybe some extra spices, but he was going to make pie.

Charlie smiled at them. “You two have been some of the best customers I’ve had in awhile. I haven’t seen someone ever so excited to eat pie before.” Dean felt his ears go red, not knowing what to say in response. “There’s plenty more where it came from, but then you’ll have to pay. This one was my treat to you, Dean. And to you, Cas.”

Dean froze as she emphasized the name, noticing Cas do the same. He didn’t realize he hadn’t called him Jimmy. Amongst everything, he was already so used to Cas as being – well, Cas – it felt like a million years had passed since he had thought of him as Jimmy.

“Thank you for the pie, Charlie. However, it is best that we get going. We still have a number of other things to do today. But please, don’t go sharing my name around. It would be quite difficult to go around town, with an entourage of adoring guards chasing my heels,” Cas explained, a smile on his face, motioning towards the door.

Dean, on the other hand, walked behind the counter and gave Charlie a hug. He felt her startle against him before slowly returning the hug. “That was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I love you,” he said, before pulling back and grinning.

She smirked up at him, putting her hands on her hips. “I know,” she replied, winking. “Now go. Enjoy your day. Tell Bobby I say hi!” She gave him a little shove towards the door, which he graciously opened for Cas.

“See you, Charlie!” Dean called after him, following Cas to a waiting Bobby.

“I see you fellas met Charlie,” Bobby greeted.

“Indeed. She is quite the character,” Cas commented, looking back fondly at the door. Dean eyed the place hungrily, already wanting another pie. He met Cas’ eyes, who just raised an eyebrow at his need for more pie. “Where is our next destination?” he asked Dean, stepping in front of him, effectively blocking his view of Charlie’s bakery.

Dean frowned at him, sticking out his tongue, before opening his bag and looking at Sam. “What do you want to do, Sammy?” he asked. The guinea pig stuck his head out and looked around.

“Is that a rodent in your bag?” Bobby asked, his eyes wide with concern.

Dean smiled at him. “Bobby, meet Sam. Sam, this is Bobby,” he introduced, gesturing between each other. Bobby still looked fairly concerned.

A member of the royal guards and he’s concerned by me? Are we sure this man is really a soldier? Sam joked and Dean laughed.

“I don’t know, man. You are pretty scary, you know with your little feet and ears,” Dean mocked, giving Sam a scratch on the head.

Jerk. Sam began scanning the area, even as he leaned into the attention.

“Bitch,” Dean commented, looking back at the two men he was with, both still watching their interaction with a fair bit of confusion.

He watched Cas whisper something into Bobby’s ear, which made him chuckle and seem much more relaxed. From the little smile on Cas’ face, Dean didn’t even want to know what he had said.

A small cry shifted Dean’s attention. He immediately looked around, trying to find the source. He saw a boy by the fountain in the center of the square, holding his knee, tears streaming down his face.

Dean didn’t even know when he had begun walking. Instinct kicked in, to figure out what was wrong and if he could, heal an injury. Cas apparently came with him, walking beside him to see what was the matter.

He kneeled down in front of the boy who couldn’t have been more than 7 years old, watching his small cries shake his body. Dean saw a basket of flowers beside the boy, some of them intertwined with each other, which made him curious, but they weren’t his priority. The boy looked up at him and Cas through his tears, sniffling. “Hi there, my name is Dean. This is C-Jimmy. What’s your name?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.

The boy took a breath, his lip wobbling. “J-J-Jack.” He barely managed the name. Dean gave him a small smile.

“Well Jack, can you tell me why you’re crying? I want to know if I can help at all,” he asked.

Jack nodded, sniffing. “I w-was playing with my sister Claire. We were collecting flowers, making crowns for everyone, when she decided we should play tag. So-so I started to chase her but I f-f-fell. Claire ran to get Ms. Mills, but m-my knee hurts.” His lips began to quiver and Dean could see a new bout of tears beginning to form.

“Jack, what if I told you, I could make your knee not hurt anymore?” Dean offered, smiling.

This caught the boy’s attention, momentarily causing him to forget about the pain. He rubbed his nose on his arm. “You can?” Jack asked. Dean nodded.

“Sure thing. But first, I have to know. Can you keep a secret?” It was Jack’s turn to nod. Dean leaned in, looking around dramatically. “I can do magic.”

Jack’s eyes widened, looking between the two of them. “Magic?”

“But the magic only works on very brave kids. Are you one of those, Jack?” Cas asked, sitting next to the kid on the fountain’s edge, joining in the ploy.

Jack puffed out his chest, straightening up. Dean chuckled, seeing the kid act tough. He whistled dramatically. “Damn, Jimmy. I think he’ll do just fine.” He smiled at the boy, as he giggled. “Now, I just need to see where it hurts and I’ll use my magic.”

Slowly, Jack took his hands off of his knee, revealing the injury. He had skinned his knee, a little bit of blood flowing down from where it cut deeper into his flesh. “Jack, can you show me how to make one of those flower crowns?” Cas asked, distracting the boy while Dean put his hand on his knee.

To his credit, Jack grinned, grabbing some of the flowers and began to show Cas the process. In the meantime, Dean quickly let his power flow through his palm. He felt the wound close up under his touch, over in moments, as if it had never been there in the first place.

“You fold it over the top, like this. And then you have your crown!” Jack exclaimed excitedly, obviously thrilled to have someone to teach. Dean couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat as Cas presented his flower crown. It was falling apart in almost every single place possible.

Cas grimaced. “I don’t think I’m quite as good at this as you are, I’m afraid.” He put the mutilated flowers in his lap, a slight flush to his cheeks that Dean found adorable.

“Well, when Dean is done, we can-,” Jack started, before catching sight of his newly healed knee. Dean smiled as the boy just stared at his limb, before he flexed it. Jack looked up at Dean with awe, quickly glancing between his knee and Dean.

He was quickly tackled to the ground by Jack’s arms around his neck. “Thank you, Dean! You really are magic!” the boy said gratefully, laughing.

“Hey, you did great, kid. Just remember, this is our secret,” he assured the kid, pulling back from the smothering hug.

“Jack!” someone’s voice called through the crowd. They both turned to where the voice had called to him. There was a little girl with bright blonde hair, probably around Jack’s age, leading a woman through the square, heading right towards the two of them.

Dean pulled himself to his feet, dusting himself off as he watched Jack run towards them. The boy hugged the girl, who Dean could only assume was Claire, and then grabbed onto the woman’s other sleeve, dragging her in his direction.

“Jack? I thought Claire said you were hurt,” the woman said, looking the boy over.

He grinned up at her, still dragging the lady towards Dean. “I was, but then Dean made it better. And then Jimmy made a flower crown with me!” He said it so excitedly, Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I did nothing. It was all Jack. He’s a brave kid, and he made it better,” Dean assured.

The woman smiled at Dean, as Jack ran over and wrapped his arms around his legs. “Well, then thank you very much, Dean. It seems you helped save Jack here. I’m Jody,” she offered, reaching out her hand.

Dean blinked at the hand, not knowing what to do. From his perspective, he saw Cas behind Jody, trying to catch his attention, motioning for him reach out his hand and shake it in front of him. Trusting him, Dean grabbed Jody’s hand and shook it. She didn’t react poorly, so he took that as a good sign.

“I’m Claire! I’m brave too, you know!” Claire announced, puffing out her chest.

Both Dean and Jody laughed. “Of course you’re brave. I’m pretty sure if he wanted to, even Sam here could be brave,” Dean said, slowly opening his satchel to reveal the guinea pig. Both kids watched in awe as he lifted Sam out of the bag, holding him in his hands.

“Can I touch him?” Jack asked tentatively. Sam let out a chirp, and Dean nodded.

“Of course you can. Now, be gentle. Hold your hand out for him to smell, and then pet him lightly on the head,” Dean explained. The boy nodded. Dean watched as he slowly reached out his hand, giving Sam plenty of time to sniff his fingers. His hand moved to pet the guinea pig’s head and he giggled.

Dean smiled, as the boy’s amazement seemed to grow with each stroke of Sam’s fur. “Can I try too?” Claire asked, still seeming slightly cautious. Dean looked at Jody before coming up with a great idea.

“You know what? What if I leave Sam with you two for a little while? I’ll be in the capital for a couple of days and I know Sam could use a little company that is not me. He is very well-behaved and will eat just about any vegetable,” he looked to Jody. “Assuming that is okay with you, of course.”

He watched the two kids both look to Jody with pleading expressions. “Please, Ms. Mills?” Claire begged.

Jody looked between the two of them and grinned. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I think we can handle one more for a little while.”

Claire squealed, before directing her attention back to Dean. “Ok. Claire, you’re going to hold Sam first, and you’re going to show your brother how to as well, okay?” She nodded. “Good. Now, hold out your hands, palms up. When Sam is ready, he’ll climb from my hands to yours. It may tickle a little, but it’s just his paws and fur.”

The girl did as she was told, holding out her hands as Dean had instructed. He held his Sam in his hands, in the same position as Claire, while the guinea pig smelled her fingers. He watched her eyes light up as Sam crawled from Dean’s hands to her own. She mimicked his earlier hold on Sam, and he grinned.

“See? You’re a natural caretaker. You and Sam will be best buddies,” Dean commented, putting his hands on hips, as both the kids seemed to be in awe of their new friend.

“Ok kids, it’s time we get going. Jack, do you have something you want to give to Dean and Jimmy?” Jody told the children. Jack grinned, grabbing his basket. He pulled out two of the flower crowns and held them up, one for each of them.

Knowing the crown was for him, Dean crouched low, so the boy could place the crown on his head. “Thank you, Dean, for helping me earlier,” Jack thanked, hugging him once more.

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Dean said, hugging the boy back.

Cas did the same, crouching so Jack could give him the crown as well as a strong hug. “Next time, you’re going to give me a more thorough explanation on how to make those crowns, alright?” Cas said, pulling back. Jack grinned, nodding his head enthusiastically. Dean didn’t doubt that Cas would be determined to learn how to make the crown properly.

“We’ll take care of Sam. I promise,” Claire told him, nodding her head determinedly. Dean chuckled.

“I know you will. Either myself or one of my friends, like Jimmy here, will come find you guys in the next couple of days to get Sam back. Where do you live?”

“The orphanage, a few streets over. It’s just beside the docks – you can’t miss it,” Jody explained. He nodded.

“Great. Well, have fun with Sam, ok?” he said as his farewell.

“We will!” Both Jack and Claire shouted in unison, before quickly walking down the road. Jody gave a small wave before following after them.

Dean stood there, watching them go, Cas at his side. “You’re really going to let Sam go with them for a couple of days? I thought you and him were inseparable,” Cas asked.

Dean shrugged.  “We are, but I think they need him more at the moment than I do.” Dean smirked at Cas. “Besides, if Sam were here, he may be tempted to eat this.” He flicked the crown on Cas’ head, who in turn swatted his hand away.

“You mustn’t touch the crown of Prince Castiel. It is forbidden,” Cas announced, face morphing into a frown, but eyes alight. Dean did his best to keep his face straight even as he bowed.

“My apologies, regal one. I didn’t realize it was a crime to touch the crown,” he joked.

“But of course. It is a crime to be punished of the highest degree. Possibly death, even,” Cas added.

Dean chuckled, as the crown slipped over Cas’ forehead. “I’ll take that risk,” he said, as he reached up, readjusting it slightly so it fit better. Now that it was just the two of them, he actually took the time to admire it.

The flowers in Cas’ crown were a beautiful shade of light blue, matching his eyes. Dean’s breathing hitched lightly, truly noticing just how good-looking Cas was. “You know, you don’t look as bad as you usually do with that crown on. Brings out your eyes and takes away from the rest of your features,” Dean joked, willing the humor to fight down the blush that was struggling to come to his cheeks. He saw Cas’ eyes widen, as a tinge of color bloomed on his cheeks, and his grin grew.

Bobby took that moment to come join them from where he had been waiting patiently. He grunted, muttering something about “damn idjits” before clearing his throat. “Can we get going before I find myself with daisies on my head and get any more nauseous?” he asked them.

Cas coughed, breaking whatever that moment between them had been. “Um, yes. Well I know we don’t have too much of a destination, but the city has a lovely library. I stole a couple of the -,” Cas started before realizing who he was with. Dean laughed as the flush on his friend’s face grew redder. “I mean, my previous visit to the library was quite insightful, as it was very nice inside, and could be a good sight to see.” He looked to Dean, and wow, those flowers really did bring out his eyes. He swore they were a sky blue earlier, but now they looked more like a calm ocean. “Would you be good with that, Dean?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Lead the way,” he responded, pretending he wasn’t getting lost looking in Cas’ eyes, but also that he knew what a library was in the first place. Bobby began their walk, staying in front of them, leading their way to the library. Dean walked with Cas behind, keeping a leisurely pace. He risked a quick glance at Cas, who took that moment to glance over at him. He immediately looked away, feeling caught in the act. He couldn’t help feeling like he was all nerves, as his cheeks began to burn.

At one point, they were walking close enough together that Dean’s arm accidentally brushed Cas’. His skin shot up with electricity at the contact. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hit you,” Dean admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he took a step away, maintaining some distance.

“It’s perfectly fine, Dean. Nothing I can’t handle,” Cas explained, his eyes boring into Dean’s.

Dean gave a weak smile as he suddenly picked up his pace, staying close to Bobby, trying to not make it obvious that he was running away from Cas and the feelings that were drummed up when Dean was near him. Why was he feeling so giddy when Cas was there, just looking at him? It made him feel like he was the whole world, or that he could do anything, as long as they were together. It was terrifying.

His father’s words suddenly came back to him from the night before, taunting him.

Possible romance.

Your handsome hero.

Dream boy.

At the time, he thought it was just his father trying to get under his skin, trying to make him think shallowly of Cas but now…

Oh.

Oh.

Dean stumbled in his steps, only barely keeping upright beside Bobby. He dared a quick look back at Cas before looking back in front of him, swallowing.

He was screwed, wasn’t he?

Chapter Text

Whatever Dean had been expecting from a library, this had not been it. Neither Bobby nor Cas had explained what a library was on their way over, assuming Dean had known what it was. He hadn’t dared tell them that this was just one more thing he, yet again, did not understand.

He had been expecting something to do with weaponry possibly. Maybe some food or clothes.

When Bobby pushed open the big oak doors, Dean was surprised by the sight of so many books, littering the entire room. He was so used to his small collection back in the tower that this was ridiculous. He remembered his three books in his home, memorized from front to back, yet he reread them anyhow. Anything to pass the time.

Now, Dean realized just how deprived he had been. He knew his jaw was hanging open, as he gazed around in awe, probably looking like an idiot, but he didn’t care. He was awestruck. What kind of adventures could he read about in here? What knowledge could he learn about history, about the world?

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his daze. Cas shot a pointed glance at Bobby, before dropping his hand. Dean hadn’t even realized Bobby had stopped in front of the two of them. “Ok. I’m going to go see if my pal Rufus is the one here tonight. If so, I can convince him to close up early, letting you two explore for yourselves.” Dean smiled but Bobby held up a hand. “If he is here though, you need to hide. He memorizes wanted posters like it’s his job to know every criminal in the kingdom.”

Cas nodded. “Of course. Should we wait in that section over there?” He pointed to a doorway, leading to another secluded section from the main area. Dean agreed. From his vantage point, it looked like it was a nice place to wait.

“Sure, just close the doors behind you. I’ll knock once if it’s just me, three times if someone is with me. That’ll be your signal to hide, got it?” Bobby clarified. Both of them nodded. “Good. I’ll be back shortly.”

Dean grabbed Cas’ hand, pulling him to the room almost instantly. He couldn’t control his glee over the prospect of books. “Come on. This’ll be awesome!” he exclaimed, closing the doors behind them.

He truly did not know how large this building was. He had thought the main entrance was massive, but this section of it was just as large. There was a staircase off to the side connecting the upper and lower levels, books filling the entire area.

As he scanned the bottom level of the room, he noticed that there were small signs showing what kind of books were in the library. His eyes landed on “Geography” and he grinned. “Ok Cas. You find some books; I find some books. We bring them back to that table and go over them together, got it?”

Dean didn’t even give Cas time to respond before running to look at the titles. His father had never told him much about what was beyond their small part of the world. He had barely told him that there even was more to the world besides their tower. That never stopped Dean from hoping there was more to the world than just the capital and his tower.

Grabbing a few books that seemed helpful, specifically one titled Map of the World, Dean brought them back to the table at the front of the room, waiting for Cas to come back with his books. While Dean’s selections seemed larger with pictures and descriptions, Cas had chosen ones with more information and details.

“What do we want to start with?” Cas asked him, coming to stand beside him, their shoulders barely brushing. Dean suppressed a shiver, not daring to look into his friend’s eyes.

He looked inquisitively at the variety of books, trying to make the right choice. He pulled out the map and one that marked the history of the kingdom. “How about these two together? I think I could use a proper history lesson, and maybe some clarification on how things happened. I mean, we can go through the history and see how the kingdom has changed on the map?” Dean asked hesitantly, hoping he didn’t bore Cas with his curiosity.

Cas, to his delight, hummed his agreement. While Dean opened the map, Cas sat down in the chair, flipping open the most recent history book. Blue eyes met his gaze, and he felt Cas somehow looking into his soul. He gulped, as he flicked his gaze back to his map. “I can read the history of the kingdom if you want to look at the maps and then follow along with me,” Cas suggested.

Dean nodded, brightening at the idea. He could pay attention to the words, learning more about history, while also seeing a visual representation of everything. He’d never admit, not even to himself, that he also enjoyed hearing Cas’ low rich voice and that he wanted every opportunity he could to listen to his friend speak.

“Where would you like to begin?” Cas asked. It wasn’t even a difficult question yet Dean hesitated. He didn’t know where he wanted to start. He couldn’t just say ‘Whenever monsters were in the world’, though it was tempting. He still didn’t know if any type of mythical creature was real or not; if everything his father had told him was embellished or a lie.

Starting at the origins of the kingdom felt too ancient. He truly had no idea when the kingdom was first formed, but judging from the length of the book, it was centuries ago.

Settling for something more recent, Dean chose the current status of the kingdom. “Let’s start with whoever rules currently,” he suggested, not knowing if there was one ruler, two, if it was a family or not.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Even I could tell you about them, but we will go with the historically depicted version,” he deadpanned. Dean stuck his tongue out at his friend, even as he flipped pages until he found the right one, clearing his throat dramatically.

“Prince John was born into the house of Winchester, the sole heir to the throne as his parents bore no more children. When he was only 10, his mother passed away from an unknown illness, leaving the prince in the care of his father. He learned how to rule the kingdom, as he got to know his people, and he loved them dearly.

“When he was 16, a great war broke out between the kingdoms, as the kingdom of Abaddonnus claimed John’s father, King Henry, had performed an act of treason.” Dean traced the kingdoms with his fingers, seeing Abaddonnus far to the south. “Some of the kingdoms fought with Lawrence, such as Lebanony. Others fought with Abaddonnus, like Hellia,” Cas explained. Dean followed along intently, going over the kingdoms that faced him on the map, trying to remember every detail. Hellia was directly beside Abaddonnus, whereas Lebanony was next to Lawrence.

“Both Prince John and his father fought in the war, serving with the armies and soldiers. The war went on for several years, neither side seeming to have an advantage. However, when they seemed to be losing, Lawrence gained an unlikely ally – the kingdom of Zeppelin, ruled by the Campbells. Though they had not been allies in many generations, both King John and King Samuel realized that the fighting must cease.” Zeppelin was a bit further to the East on the map. The land was so much larger than he had ever imagined. He dared to dream of what it might be like to some day see it all.

“Though hesitant to an alliance at first, Prince John’s viewpoint quickly shifted as he met the princess, Lady Mary Campbell. If love at first sight was believed to exist, then one would say that the two heirs stumbled into its trap almost immediately.”

Dean listened closely, curiously wondering about the prince and princess. He couldn’t imagine loving someone at first sight. He had spent plenty of time with Cas in the past couple of days, and he knew his arising feelings were still fairly fresh yet not unwelcome, but they had hated each other at first. Love at first sight for anyone seemed quite far-fetched.

“As the relationship between the kingdoms grew stronger, so did the relationship between the prince and princess. The tide of the war switched to their favor, and though it took time, their kingdoms were able to claim victory over Abaddonnus and Hellia. However, the war was not without its consequences. Sadly, the kingdom lost King Henry to the fight, leaving Prince John fatherless.”

Dean felt sympathy for the king. He had never known his mother, and his father refused to talk about her. If he had been motherless already and lost his father at the same age that the prince had, he didn’t know what he would have done.

“As the kingdom was now without a ruler and the war had been won, John Winchester was crowned King, with a marriage to the princess of Zeppelin following not long after. The new king and queen worked hard to rebuild the kingdoms; the effects of the war having taken its toll on both of their lands. Slowly but surely, the years passed by and the king and queen were content with their lives, their people taken care of once again.

“After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting, and times of worry, the kingdom soon welcomed a new heir to Lawrence, Prince Henry, named after the late king. It was a celebration like none other. The king and queen were delighted to welcome their son to the world. The kingdom rejoiced for the royal family, happily joining in the festivities.”

Dean held up a hand. “Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean times of worry? I thought the war was over. What else did the kingdom have to worry about?” he asked, not understanding. Had he missed something in Cas’ explanation?

Cas closed the book on his hand, keeping his fingers in the page. “I’m actually surprised it’s not mentioned here in the history. My brother told me about it when I was older, as I was only a toddler at the time,” Cas started. He leaned in close and Dean found himself crouched over, leaning in too, as if they were sharing a secret.

“Apparently, when the queen was pregnant with the child, she became very ill. No one knew how to help her, save for a miracle. The rumor was that there was one man in the kingdom left who could perform miracles and heal even the most dire of illnesses, supposedly the final descendant of miracle workers. He was-,” he explained.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

“Shit,” hissed Dean, as Bobby used his signal that he wasn’t alone. “Just one second!” he called out, hoping to buy them a moment of time.

Cas quickly threw his book on the table and dove underneath, hiding himself using the table cloth that flowed over the sides to the floor. For a master thief, Dean thought he would have chosen somewhere better to hide himself, maybe behind a bookshelf somewhere, but he didn’t have time to question it.

Bobby pushed open the door, followed by a man around the same age, who Dean assumed to be Rufus, his friend. “Oh, hi there!” Dean said cheerily, resting an elbow on the table and leaning his head on his fist. He tried to feign nonchalance and not that he was hiding a wanted criminal under the table.

“You must be Dean; the boy Bobby here was telling me about. He said that you want to spend some time here by yourself?” asked the man curiously.

Dean felt something brush his foot and quickly shifted his stance. “Yep, that’s me! I haven’t been to a library of this size before and I just want to explore, if that’s alright with you,” Dean explained. He had never been to any library before, but he didn’t need to tell Rufus or Bobby that.

He felt another light touch on his toes and he shook his foot out, trying to get rid of the feeling. However, it persisted, unrelenting. The feather-light touch went up and down the side of his foot and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep his face together, finally understanding what was tickling his foot.

Dammit Cas.

He tried kicking his foot out at the man under the table without being too obvious, but his plan backfired. Dean felt a hand grab his ankle, holding his foot up in the air as the ticklish feeling continued, all the while hidden by the table. He quickly refocused his weight, desperately trying to keep still as the tickling didn’t cease.

He saw Rufus’ eyes narrow as he watched Dean try not to lose his balance. “You sure you’re okay kid? You seem a little unsteady.” Even Bobby was staring at him like a lunatic.

Dean held back a light yelp when the touch met a particularly sensitive spot on the sole of his foot. “Yep! I’m fine. Just really giddy to gain knowledge,” he pathetically reasoned, his voice having gone up an octave.

Bobby’s eyebrows rose up across the room, looking particularly disturbed by seeing him so antsy. Rufus, on the other hand, just seemed disinterested. “All right. I hope you don’t mind if I steal Bobby for a couple of drinks. He and I need to catch up on some things. I’ll lock the door behind me, so whenever you’re finished up, you can just head out,” Rufus confirmed.

Dean bit his lip as Cas tickled his heel, fighting to not make any noise. “Fantastic. Enjoy!” he called, louder than he probably should’ve, but he couldn’t care less as the light touches failed to stop. Rufus gave him one final look before shutting the door.

As soon as the door closed, Dean glared daggers at the table, as it began to chuckle. “Castiel Novak, you have from the count of 10 to run before I throttle you,” he threatened, clutching tightly onto the edge. The chuckling under the table stopped.

“Ten,” Dean began, starting the countdown. The grip left his ankle and he put his foot back onto the solid ground.

“Nine.” He heard a shuffle and Cas popped up on the other side of the table, a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Eight.” Dean didn’t give Cas the satisfaction of smiling too. He just frowned harder, narrowing his eyes.

“Seven.” Cas seemed to recognize that Dean wasn’t fooling around. He got to his feet, delicately placing his flower crown on the table, and took a step back, maintaining eye contact with Dean.

“Six.” He watched his friend take a couple more steps backwards, the smile falling from his face as he cocked his head at Dean.

“Five,” Dean warned, growling out the number. He was only giving Cas a chance to run so he could have the thrill of chasing him.

“Four.” Cas, the asshole, had the audacity to grin at Dean, his eyes alight with mischief. His face seemed to say ‘Catch me if you can.’

“Three.” Cas ran behind a stack of books and out of Dean’s sight. Even though he wasn’t too far away, Dean couldn’t hear Cas’ footsteps. A perk of being a thief, he assumed, was being good at sneaking around. With its multiple levels, Cas had plenty of places to run and hide in the library. It was going to be so satisfying hunting down his friend.

“Two,” Dean called out to the room. He thought he heard a faint creak from above his head. Maybe Cas had gone upstairs, but then again, the place was old. He didn’t know if it was just the floor or not.

“One,” he growled, stretching out his joints and getting ready to run. “Cas, I hope you know you’re a dead man walking!” he shouted into the room. He was met with silence and it was his turn to grin, taking the flowers off his head. He was going to get Cas back for that tickling session, and he was going to enjoy it.

He followed in the direction that Cas had run off in, forgetting about the books that he had been so eagerly devouring not long ago. Now, his focus was a completely different target.

Dean walked slowly, scanning each of the shelves, keeping his ears open for noise, eyes peeled any signs of movement. All those years of trying to find Sammy amongst the endless hiding places in the tower were paying off. He was at least used to searching for someone.

The first floor was clear. Seeing as there were no doors on this side of the room, Dean began the climb up the stairs, placing his feet gently on each step to keep them from creaking. As he reached the top, he looked down each row, waiting to catch a glimpse of Cas.

A loud thud from the other side of the room caught his attention. Cas wouldn’t be careless enough to make noise like that, would he? Dean didn’t think so, but he’d take any good luck he could get.

Cautiously but excitedly, still looking down each row, Dean made his way over to where the noise had come from. He peered curiously down the aisle, surprised to see a book splayed out on the ground, its pages crinkled against the floor.

Frowning, Dean picked up the book and placed it back on the shelf. Why would Cas knock over one book? He didn’t understand the man’s tactics. Was there a purpose to knock one book off the shelf? Was it accidental? Did Cas even do it or did it accidentally fall off the shelf?

He was beginning to second guess his ability to be a good hunter. Not that he had ever thought himself as good at finding Sammy, but he usually was fairly confident in his abilities to find the guinea pig. How much harder could it be to find a fully grown man compared to a small animal?

Dean scanned the room, trying to place his eyes on where Cas might hide. His eyes landed on a cart full of books, pressed against a bookshelf, a couple of aisles over. If he was trying to hide in one spot, being mainly protected from view, that’s where he would go.

Backpedaling down the aisle, Dean crept quietly behind the shelves, keeping his breathing steady. He really wanted to surprise Cas. It was only fair for all the times Cas had surprised him since they first met. Their encounter earlier that morning where he startled Dean awake came to the forefront of his mind.

He craned his head around the corner, spotting the cart. Indeed, there was a shape hiding in its nook, fairly out of sight, except from Dean’s current position. He recognized the material as Cas’ vest, huddling it on itself as if he were curled up on himself, trying to blend in and remain inconspicuous.

Dean grinned. Cas had to do better than that to get rid of him. Slowly, keeping his footsteps slow and quiet, Dean snuck up on the unsuspecting the figure. Crouching low, he pounced at Cas. “Gotcha!” he called as he leapt, snatching Cas’ vest. He hit the ground with a resounding boom, multiple sharp edges digging into his sides.

He sat up quickly, holding only the vest in his hands, a pile of books now flattened on the ground beneath him. His brain whirled, coming up with an explanation, the quiet of the library now deafening after his failed attempt at capture. When did Cas have time to stack those books and drape his vest over them? The bastard had to have known that Dean would find them. And if Cas knew that he would find them and assume it was the man, then that meant…

Dean turned just in time to see a blur of motion, as a force knocked him to the ground, digging those books further into his back. The crash echoed through the library, as the weight settled down upon him, refusing to let him move. He let out a small moan from the force, as he looked up into those devastatingly blue eyes, the joy in them clearly evident.

“I believe that you were supposed to be the one catching me, not the other way around, correct?” Cas murmured, a smile twitching at the edges of his lips. He was practically draped over top of Dean, his hands on both of his shoulders, keeping him pinned to the ground.

Dean frowned at the man, even as his skin felt alive at the contact from Cas’ body. “You tricked me,” he sputtered out, trying and failing to come up with some witty remark. It was hard for his brain to think with Cas on top of him.

Cas chuckled, and Dean felt the reverberations vibrate through his chest. It left him feeling tingly, and he didn’t want it to stop. “Did you really think I would hide out behind a cart of books, Dean? That I would be so callously obvious?”

Dean glanced away from his friend, color staining his cheeks.  He shifted uncomfortably, and if he hadn’t been in an unmovable position, he would’ve crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought it was a good hiding spot,” he admitted, still refusing to meet Cas’ eyes. Willing the blood out of his face, he looked back to Cas, who was staring down at him. “But what was with the random book in the aisle? That part I don’t understand.”

The edge of Cas’ lips twitched upwards, his eyes narrowing. “Isn’t it rather convenient that you just happened to see the cart from that vantage point?” Cas explained.

Dean’s eyes widened in shock, coming to terms with what he had said. It’s true, he hadn’t seen the cart until he had picked up the book. He probably wouldn’t have noticed it otherwise. But to think it was all a trap was too much for Dean’s dignity to handle. “You douchebag,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, shaking his head at Cas’ elaborately thought-out plan.

Cas’ smile grew. “It’s not my fault you fell for such an easy trap. You’re so gullible,” he said, laughing.

Dean’s stomach dropped at his words. He felt his face fall, losing all amusement that had been lingering. Using all his strength, he suddenly pushed Cas off of him, throwing his vest at him quickly. He didn’t try to explain his sudden shift in moods, as he stood up and began to walk away, his back to Cas.

“Dean, wait. What -,” Cas started but Dean quickly cut him off.

“Not now, Cas. Let’s just get going. I’m tired and want to go find some place to sleep.” He gave as an explanation for his bluntness. He knew that Cas didn’t deserve him being snappy, that it was merely words to him, but they dug at a wound in Dean that he didn’t think would ever heal.

As he stormed down the hall of the library, his brain wouldn’t stop replaying all his memories of his father, the constant lessons that had been engrained into him over the years. He clutched his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms.

“Papa, when can I go outside?” he asked his father, looking out the window. He was watching a butterfly fly outside the window, slowly flapping its wings to the ground. He longed to go the ground, to reach out and touch the delicate creature. He turned back to his father, wide eyes full of curiosity.

His father gave him a weak smile from where he was seated. “Oh Dean, come here.” His father patted his lap and Dean came over, sitting down. “Dean, the world isn’t nice like you. Everyone is a monster, and they’d use you to their advantage. Your naivety would get you hurt or killed.”

Dean frowned. “But you go outside all the time. You’re not mean. Not everyone can be bad,” he reasoned. He looked back outside the window, still wanting to know what it was like. He may have been only 10 years old, but he believed that there had to be good in people. He wanted to see them.

His father laughed. He placed his hand under Dean’s chin, lifting his eyes to meet his own, just a bit too forcefully for comfort. “You’re still so young. So gullible. You don’t understand that I’m protecting you. If a stranger were to come through that window right now and say that they wanted to bring you to the capital and see people, would you say yes?”

Dean opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again. He didn’t know how to answer. He wanted to say no, because he wanted to please his father and not leave without him, but at the same time, he wished more than anything to see the city.

His father’s grip on chin tightened, and Dean bit back a wince as his nails dug into his skin. “Do you see? You are debating whether you want to leave or not. Even after we both know what happened when you were younger.” Dean downcast his eyes in shame. It was true, what reason did he have to trust people after they broke into their home when he was only a child to use his powers? He had the scar on his forehead to prove it, and the weight of his father’s disappointment in him made him feel worse.

His father’s other hand patted his hair, stroking his face. Dean leaned into the touch, despite the grip locked on his jaw. He craved the affection. His voice turned gentler. “You want to trust people, the monsters of the world, and it’s cute. You’re so adorably stupid, it’s amazing how gullible you are. Don’t worry Dean. I’m going to make sure that no one can ever hurt you again, alright? You’re going to learn how to protect yourself and realize where you belong is here.”

Dean nodded in his father’s grip, and the fingers let go of his chin, giving a brief reprieve. His father fixed him with a stern look. “Now, go to your room. I think today’s a good day for another lesson in healing, don’t you agree?” His father didn’t give him time to answer, before giving him a small shove off his lap. Dean blinked back the sting in his eyes, as he made his way to his room. His father was helping him. He needed to be tougher. He couldn’t afford to be gullible, not if everyone in the world were monsters like his father said, like whoever tried to hurt them years ago. He trusted his father and he knew he was only doing what was best for him, even if he didn’t quite understand yet.

He wouldn’t admit to his father that he glanced out the window one more time, wishing to be outside, before retreating to his room. He was here for his own protection and he had to be careful. The lessons his father gave him were important, even if they hurt him. He needed to learn about the world and just how dangerous it truly was, for only he could protect himself.

Dean tried to shake himself out of his memories as he clamored out the library, still remembering his father’s nails dig into his flesh. He heard Cas call his name but he ignored him. He just needed some fresh air; he felt like he was suffocating.

He felt a pressure start to build in his eyes, the familiar sting of tears of frustration trying to break the surface. He growled at himself, refusing to let himself give into emotions from the past. If that dam burst, he didn’t know if he’d be able to close it again, which he certainly was not going to let happen.

Seeing a building’s sign with a bed painted on it, he quickly crossed the street and threw open the doors, hoping that a good rest would clear his head.

Chapter Text

Castiel regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, if the way Dean’s face fell was anything to go off. How could he explain to Dean that he had found it endearing, nothing to be ashamed of? Yet before he could even try to say something else, Dean closed himself off, nearly sprinting away from him. He didn’t know a lot about Dean, only as much as they had discussed in the past couple of days, yet even he could see how clearly affected Dean had been by those words.

Castiel followed after him as quickly as he could. On his way, he grabbed the flower crowns, as well as Dean’s satchel with the frying pan in it, seeing as Dean had forgotten them in his escape, chasing after him. “Dean, please wait!” he tried calling, but he refused to stop to even look at him. Dean was practically running ahead of him, but every time that Castiel seemed to be catching up, Dean’s pace somehow quickened.

It was a miracle when Dean finally veered from his rampaging path and went to the inn. At least here, Castiel knew Dean would stop and get some rest, even if he didn’t buy for a second that Dean was only tired.

He followed in behind him, tripping over himself to not barge into Dean, who was just standing in front of the innkeeper. “I don’t care what room, how big or small. I just need a room,” he heard Dean explain to the lady. He sounded quite frantic still, and Castiel wondered what exactly was going on his head.

“I can pay whatever rate you need,” Castiel said, standing up beside Dean. He glanced at Dean, who was pointedly refusing to look at him, before returning his gaze to the innkeeper.

She looked between the two of them and her gaze softened. “It’s been pretty busy lately, with the festival’s last day tomorrow. Folks have been piling in from around the kingdom and my business is overwhelming. Normally, I’d say we’re full, but you seem like you could use the help.” She held out a key which Dean snatched out of her hand almost immediately.

Castiel glared at his companion before nodding his head at the lady. “Thank you. We really appreciate it.”

The innkeeper snorted. “Don’t thank me yet. It’s not much of a room, more of a storage room that happens to have a bed. Head on up to the third floor then head to the end of the hall. There should be a small set of stairs hidden in the corner. That’s the attic there, and that’ll be where you boys will be staying,” she explained.

Dean took off in a rush, not bothering to thank her, and Castiel sighed, his heart heavy with guilt. He had somehow caused his friend despair and he wanted to do anything he could to fix it. He just didn’t know how. “Oh, I know that look,” the innkeeper said, bringing Castiel away from where he had been following Dean’s retreating form with his gaze.

“Pardon?” he asked, not quite understanding what she was getting at. Her only response was to raise an eyebrow, before naming her price.

Paying the sum, Castiel figured he couldn’t feel any worse. “Can I ask you a question?” he started, hoping she was willing to at least pretend to care.

She nodded. “Donna, by the way.” She held out her hand. He took it in his own and shook.

“Ca-Jimmy,” Castiel greeted, nearly slipping up. In the 15 years that he had been stealing and had adopted his alias, he had never revealed his identity. Sure, he had wanted to, occasionally. But now, here he was. He met Dean and in their short period of time, he had already told him his true identity and was getting so used to being called his real name. “How do you fix something that you know you broke, but you aren’t sure how you broke it?”

Donna seemed to ponder the question for a moment. “Well, I don’t know what happened, but even I can see that boy is beating himself up over something. If you think you’re to blame, then I think he needs to hear it from you. The only thing I can suggest then is being there for him and listening to him, giving him time and space to tell you when he’s ready,” she answered. Somehow, it was disappointing that it wasn’t a concrete answer, but it still made Castiel feel slightly better regardless.

“Thank you, Donna. I mean it,” he said, turning to head up the stairs.

“Anytime sweetie. Breakfast will be ready in the morning, if you and your friend want to come down and eat,” she called after him. He nodded, once again expressing his thanks, and climbed up the stairs.

Following Donna’s instructions, Castiel found the small stairs on the third floor. They were quite hidden, and without her direction, he never would have found them. As he climbed up the stairs, he was honestly surprised that Dean had left the door unlocked. Somehow, he had been expecting him to lock it shut behind him, refusing to let Castiel near him. He took this as a good sign.

Opening the small door, Castiel found himself in a tiny space. There was a window at the side of the room, letting in the moonlight, illuminating the area. Like Donna had said, it wasn’t much of a room. It had barely enough room for a bed, with boxes of miscellaneous supplies lined up against the wall.

He saw Dean on the bed, his back facing Castiel, the blanket pulled up tight to his head. He was keeping to one side though, leaving space for himself. Sighing, he kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his vest, placing the satchel carefully on the ground, making sure not to crush the flower crowns inside.

Slowly, to make sure the old bed didn’t fall apart, Castiel climbed onto the bed beside Dean, pulling the covers up. He was on his back, facing the roof, staring into the darkness as if it had an answer. Dean didn’t so much as make a sound beside him. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he’d fallen asleep. However, Dean’s unsteady breaths were his giveaway that he was still awake.

Castiel waited, unmoving. He didn’t know why he waited instead of trying to fall asleep, the tension in the air almost palpable. But he felt that if he didn’t say something to Dean now, he was going to lose his chance to. Sighing, he closed his eyes. “I hope you know, you’re anything but gullible,” Castiel started, his whisper barely audible. He heard Dean’s breath hitch ever so slightly, signaling he heard him, so he continued. “I didn’t mean to say that earlier and I truly apologize. I figure since you were honest with me last night, I should be honest with you.”

He took a moment, choosing the right words. “I grew up the youngest of five. About a year after I was born, my parents left one day with my sister Anna and never returned. So, I was left in the care of my three older brothers, as I mentioned yesterday evening. Lucifer and Michael were horrible role models. Michael tried to ignore me as much as he could, while Lucifer loved to be as annoying as possible. The only decent brother was Gabriel, and even he was constantly being mischievous and pranking us. However, under his reckless and mocking personality, he cared for me as I grew up, which I will forever be thankful for.”

Castiel took a deep breath before continuing. “When I was 13, one day, Gabriel never came home from his job at the sweets store. He had been supporting us for awhile and his job was important to him, but he rarely came home late. I went to the owner and asked after him, but she said that he never showed up for his shift that day. Though I searched and searched, I never found him again.”

He squirmed in his spot on the bed, feeling uncomfortable saying all of this out loud, but he knew it was for the best. He wanted Dean to understand, as well as get to know him a bit better. “After that, we fell into poverty. Neither Michael nor Lucifer had a job, and no one was willing to hire a child. So, we ended up starting to run a scam. I would distract people, often asking for help, pretending I was hurt. Sometimes, I would put on a show by juggling or something similar, drawing a crowd and keeping their attention. While they were distracted by me, Lucifer or Michael would steal money and valuables from them.” Castiel absent-mindedly pulled at his sleeve.

“Soon though, my brothers thought that small parlor tricks were not enough. They wanted to do something more. They thought it would be a good idea to rob a carriage that was travelling, and I had no say. I was just a part of the plan. We came up with a plan and I was once again, the distraction.” He let out a small laugh. “I remember it vividly. I was lying in the middle of the road, clutching my leg in pain, when the carriage came. It stopped and it was my time to shine. The man came out and asked me what was wrong. While I came up with an elaborate explanation of what had happened, I watched my brothers begin to open the chests and steal the money in them.

“However, when I finally stumbled through my excuses and pain, I finally looked into the man’s eyes, and I froze. He seemed genuinely worried about my well-being. It threw me off and my eyes immediately went behind him to where my brothers were, betraying our ruse. That was the day I met Bobby Singer.”

Castiel sighed, knowing how poorly it fell after that moment. “Immediately, my brothers scrambled to collect their earnings, with myself running into the forest. He didn’t come after us, at least not at that moment, but that doesn’t mean my brothers were kind about my failure. I still have the scar as a reminder. They made sure I never forgot my weakness, reminding me constantly about my heart. After that, I never slipped up again, refusing to be weak.”

He smiled sadly to himself. “For 15 years, that’s how my life has been. Running with my brothers constantly, stealing from all that we could, becoming wanted men all throughout the kingdom. I never grew relationships with people, never letting myself get close with anyone. And then I met you. Suddenly, I wanted to get close to someone, and it stressed me out. It still does if I’m being honest, because it no longer feels like getting close to someone is a weakness at all. In fact, I believe it to be a strength, because you feel different. I want to know more about you, your life. When we spent time together, I wanted to tell you about me, the real me, and I enjoyed your company. It goes against every fiber of my being from the past 15 years, wanting to have a friend, yet here I am, craving it.”

He took a deep breath. “With my brothers being my only companions for the most of my life, I have to admit I’m not good at social interaction. My people skills are rusty. What I had meant to say, back in the library, was that I wanted you to fall into my trap, because I-,” he stumbled on his words, trying to come up with the right way to explain. “I wanted to impress you and catch you by surprise. Your wonder with the world was so fascinating to me that I was hoping you’d fall for the trick, just so I could see your shock and wonder again. I realize that was probably not the best plan, looking back on it,” Castiel explained.

He rolled onto his side, his back towards Dean. “I truly apologize for what I said. I’m the cause of your pain and that hurts me more than I care to admit. However, I understand if you never wish to speak to me again. I’d hate me too, if I was being an ass.”

Several moments passed, not a word said between them. Castiel closed his eyes, pulling the blanket tighter around his chin. He had said his piece, and now, he had to give Dean time to think and reflect, like Donna had said. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t hate the silence as well.

After what felt like a lifetime, he heard a sigh from beside him. “Dammit Cas, I don’t hate you,” Dean admitted. Castiel felt a glimmer of hope in his chest, but he didn’t dare speak, in case of ruining the moment. He turned to Dean’s back though, waiting. It took another moment before Dean said anything else. “What you said, it just brought back memories. Ones that I’d rather forget. It reminded me that I really know nothing about the world, about what people are like or how to act around them.”

Dean sounded like he was grounding his jaw. “To be perfectly honest, I’m terrified out here, knowing that one wrong move on my end and that could be it. After all my father taught me, I still don’t know anything. Still just that naïve boy that left his tower.” Dean’s voice cracked and Castiel’s heart broke.

“I don’t understand simple gestures, I couldn’t tell you the first thing about history, and I don’t know what is right or wrong anymore. I don’t know what desserts are or what a library is. You could probably tell me that moose are real and I’d believe it.  Was there ever a war between angels and demons? Possibly. Was the threat against humanity so large hundreds of years ago that no humans survived and instead were placed with monsters? Maybe. Could I have left years ago with my father and nothing would have happened? Who knows? Actually, no. Everyone else knows, but I don’t! I know nothing!” he said angrily, his voice steadily rising. Castiel watched Dean run his hand through his hair frantically, his shoulders heaving. He refrained from reaching out his hand to comfort Dean, barely.

“I’m supposed to be special, that’s what he always told me. My powers needed to be hidden to keep me safe. Because when it came down to it, I’d be the one to save anyone who needed saving, but the world was full of these evil creatures and they would kill me for existing, so I couldn’t go yet. I thought that I was ready, that I made the right choice coming out here, but now, I don’t know. I wanted to see the world, maybe be this savior that could make a difference. But in reality, I’m still nothing more than a gullible man who doesn’t know squat about the world.”

Dean said the last part almost methodically, which was concerning to say the least. He repeated it as if it was a mantra. Castiel frowned in the dark at the words, but figured he could reflect on them later. He poorly attempted a joke instead. “Well, you know one thing for certain. I’m your friend, right? I’m here, and that’s very much a fact. After all, I think punching you in the nose was quite real.” Castiel was aware that he was bad at humor, but even he realized that hadn’t been funny.

Dean, to his credit, let out a huff of pity laughter. “Unfortunately yes, because that adventure was awesome. Nearly falling to my death and drowning together was so much fun,” he drawled. Castiel felt his lips twitch at his words, his eyebrows furrowing.

“For what it’s worth, I’m also terrified most of the time,” Castiel admitted. To his surprise, he watched Dean shift in the bed, turning to face him. He looked away, not wanting to look Dean in the eye, even in the darkness.

“You?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded. “But you’re Mr. Brilliant. Steals whatever he wants to and can plan his way out of the hardest situations. You’ve done this for most of your life,” Dean reasoned. It was Castiel’s turn to give a humorless laugh, even as he felt his cheeks heat.

“I have been doing this for over a decade Dean, you’re right. And yet, every single time I go outside, I’m looking over my shoulder, waiting for it all to catch up with me. I know that some day, it’s going to bite me in the back. Just another reason to not get close to people. And now,” Castiel explained, his words falling flat.

“And now?” Dean prompted, waiting for Castiel to continue.

He shifted onto his back, looking up in the dark. “And now, my fear has grown so much because I actually have someone who I care about, someone who can get hurt because of me. After all, didn’t earlier in the library already get that point across? I didn’t catch my words and afterwards, I was so worried that you’d never forgive me and it made me careless. I didn’t check anywhere to see if there were guards around. I almost gave Donna my real name.” He bit his lip, pausing his words, before turning to face Dean. “All I could think about was making sure that you were alright, and knowing that I had caused that misery was more than I could bear.”

Even in the dark, he could make out Dean’s striking features. His expression was open. Castiel saw him give a small smile. “Well, maybe then we’re both dumbasses,” he said.

Castiel pursed his lips. “I prefer the word trusting. Less dumb, less ass.” Despite everything, despite the fact that they came in here on less-than-ideal terms, Dean laughed, if gently. Even though they were in the dark, Castiel felt as if the room had never been brighter.

Keeping his face neutral, Castiel dared voice a question, hoping to ease any tension that was left. “Do you really not believe in moose?” He heard Dean groan and felt something hard ram into his shoulder. He let out a startled yelp as he rubbed his arm where Dean punched him.

“Out of all of this, that’s what you focus on? The moose? Unbelievable.” Dean accused. “There’s no way they’re real, man. I mean, a giant animal bigger than a couple of people combined, who can kill you from stepping on you, with huge sharp horns coming out its head? Absolutely fake.”

Castiel couldn’t hold back a small giggle. “I can say, without a doubt, that moose are in fact real. I can’t believe you’ve heard of moose and not dessert before.”

He felt Dean’s glare boring into him. “Look, all I’m saying is that it sounds like a hoax. It just doesn’t seem natural.”

Castiel leveled Dean with a disbelieving look. “This, coming from the man who accused me of being some type of shapeshifter or vampire when we first met,” he accused light-heartedly.

He could just make out Dean rolling his eyes. “Shut up,” he muttered, but there was no venom behind his words. Castiel felt his lips tug upwards as Dean smiled in the dark. He stared at him, just taking in the sight of his companion. He had never felt closer to someone before, and that frightened him, but here, in the dark of the night, he felt content just being there with Dean.

Dean coughed, shifting away. “Well, we should probably sleep. Tomorrow will probably be another long day,” he said. Castiel nodded, even if Dean couldn’t see it.

“Of course,” he agreed, tugging the blankets under his chin, making himself comfortable.

As he closed his eyes, feeling lighter than he had in hours, his heart leapt as he heard a faint “Goodnight, Cas.”

Castiel smiled. “Goodnight, Dean,” he murmured fondly.

If either of them shuffled closer to each other before letting sleep take them, neither mentioned it.

Chapter Text

Dean woke up feeling fairly refreshed, especially compared to how sour his mood had been when he entered the night before. The light in his eyes was almost blinding first thing in the morning. Shielding his eyes, he shifted on the bed, snuggling into the warmth pressed into his side, throwing an arm over it. He heard a small murmur as something shifted against him, and his eyes flew open, landing on the person beside him.

Cas was pushed against him, still asleep. His hair was all mussed from sleep, his face relaxed. He looked so innocent, so open, that Dean would’ve said it was adorable if his heart wasn’t racing. He panicked, his brain trying to come up with any sort of coherent thought with how close he was to Cas. God, he needed to calm down.

Dean, ever so slowly, extracted his arm from where it was laying over top of Cas, trying to not wake the man, at least not until they weren’t pressed against each other. Shuffling backwards until he was at the edge of the bed, Dean finally took a deep breath in, not realizing he had been holding it.

He flipped onto his other side, putting his back to Cas, as if that made things any better. He knew his face was still flushed waking up like that, his body disappointed at the lack of connection. He just figured he’d save both of them the embarrassment if Cas didn’t wake up in that predicament.

Rubbing his hand over his face, Dean steadied his voice. “Morning Cas,” he called softly to the room. His only response was a grunt from the man beside him.

“I thought you were supposed to be the one who liked mornings,” Dean teased, surprised that Cas was still sleeping and yet he was awake. A blunt jab to his back sent him to the floor, as Cas kicked him off the bed. He would’ve thought it was an accident, if he didn’t hear a small huff of approval from his friend.

Dean laid there on the ground, collecting his bearings, formulating a plan of just how he was going to get Cas back. Getting himself off the ground, Dean looked over the bed to see Cas now wrapped in the blankets entirely. Good. It made his job easier.

Carefully, as to not startle the man, Dean gently pulled on the edges of the blankets and tucked them under Cas, wrapping him in a cocoon, making him immobile. As Cas made no fuss besides a small murmur, Dean picked his friend up and slung him over his shoulder, the blankets wrapped around his body, keeping his limbs in place.

He pulled open the door leading to the stairs, climbing down with Cas over his shoulder. Dean smiled as Cas still didn’t move much. If he had any idea of what Dean had planned, he was sure that the man would’ve been thrashing by now to get out of his grip.

Making his way down the stairs, Dean saw the manager at the front desk where she had been the night before, back when his frustration had gotten the better of him. He remembered how curt he had been with her, and he knew she hadn’t deserved that. Now though, she eyed him and his companion curiously. “Hey there. It’s Donna, right?” he greeted.

“That’s me,” she responded shortly, her voice clipped. She kept glancing at Cas over Dean’s shoulder, seemingly wary of what he was doing.

“Well, first of all. I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I was… working through some things but Jimmy here helped,” Dean explained. Cas grunted at his fake name, muttering something into Dean’s back.

Donna nodded, her gaze softening. “Apology accepted. I’m just glad the two of you worked things out.” She clapped her hands in front of her. “Now, what can I do for you?”

Making sure Cas couldn’t hear, Dean leaned in closely, as Donna did the same. “What’s the nearest way to the docks without being seen?”

Her eyes widened and he quickly scrambled. “I swear, nothing bad. Just… just-,” he stumbled, trying to come up with any sort of reasoning.

She quickly glanced between him and Cas, seeming to come to a decision for herself. “First left. Down the alley. When you hit the sign for the bar, take a quick right. You’ll see it coming up,” she explained.

Dean nodded. “Thanks Donna. We’ll be back soon!” he called behind him, as he walked out the front door, Cas still over his shoulder. He got a number of funny looks from people who had been outside the inn, but he paid them no attention, instead following her instructions.

As he began his trek, Cas seemed to wake up a bit more. “Dean, ‘ere we g’ng?” he asked groggily, his voice still sleepy.

Dean chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon. Just keep relaxing,” he said, being fairly vague, but the answer at least seemed to satisfy Cas’ curiosity for the moment.

He saw the sign for the bar, just as Donna had mentioned, and turned right. When the lake appeared ahead of him, he grinned, and began to walk quicker. Cas seemed to notice his change of pace, sounding suddenly much more alert. “Dean. Dean, where are we going?”

Dean ignored his ask, seeing as it was much more urgent than it had been minutes beforehand. Instead, he just kept walking. Cas though started to squirm in his grip. “Put me down Dean,” he said, sounding slightly panicked, somehow knowing Dean had a plan, and when he had a plan, it usually was something stupid.

“Very shortly Cas. We’re almost there,” he answered, the sight of the lake widening before him, as he stepped out of the alley. Dean felt Cas’ head swivel against him and knew that he saw the lake, while Dean had no intention of stopping.

He could practically feel the moment when Cas understood what his idea was. His thrashing in Dean’s grip increased almost immediately, but he refused to let Cas go. His grip on the man tightened. Only a few more steps.

“Come on, Dean. This isn’t fair,” Cas complained, his voice sounding shaky, and Dean chuckled. Oh, this was going to be worth it.

“Fair flew out the window when you kicked me off the bed this morning. This is just some good old-fashioned payback,” Dean explained, as he came to the lip of the dock. He shifted his hold on Cas, so he was now carrying him in his arms, his grip on the edge of the blanket.

Cas’ eyes quickly darted from the water to Dean, his eyebrows drawn together. “Have mercy?” he pleaded, but it only made Dean smile.

“Not a chance, Novak.” Cas’ eyes widened, as if he knew his fate was sealed. With a smirk, Dean threw up his arms, flicking out the blanket Cas was wrapped in, effectively flinging his friend into the lake.

Dean laughed as Cas quickly broke the surface of the water, gasping for air. He could see the way he almost shivered in the water as he swam back towards the dry land. Dean’s laugh only grew as Cas grumbled, pulling himself out of the water onto the edge of the platform, laying there for a moment, catching his breath. His hair was completely ruffled and spiky, the water droplets reflecting in the sunlight, sparkling. It was more attractive than Dean wanted to admit.

“Insufferable. Irritating. Utterly loathsome. Thinks he’s cute,” Dean heard from his friend, unable to contain his glee. He watched Cas stand up, dripping wet, his clothes sticking tightly to his body, as he cocked his head at Dean, his eyebrow raised. “Oh, so you think this is funny, do you?”

Dean didn’t even have time to prepare himself before Cas launched himself at him, wrapping his cold and completely drenched body around Dean, securing him in place. A high-pitched cry, one that he would never admit to, escaped his throat as Cas rubbed his cold limbs against Dean’s warm and dry ones. “Not so funny anymore, huh?” Dean didn’t have words for a response, his body still adjusting to the change of temperature.

He bit his lip and suppressed a shiver as Cas’ freezing fingers found the soft skin between his tunic and his trousers. It was terribly sensitive, more so than normal, and he tried not jump in place. Even though he tried to get away, Cas’ grip on him was locked around him, keeping him there. It wasn’t until Cas started walking backwards, pulling Dean with him, that Dean realized what he was doing.

“Don’t copy my idea, Cas. That’s just boring,” Dean tried, seeing as he was being dragged towards the edge, with Cas still holding onto him.

“It’s not copying if you aren’t being thrown in, is it?” Cas said, a smirk growing on his face. Dean gulped as they were on the edge of the dock and the water.

“Cas, I can’t swim,” he explained quickly, not wanting to be pushed in, or whatever Cas had in mind. Cas’ smile fell, but the amusement in his eyes remained.

“Do you trust me?” Cas asked, as if that were relevant to the situation. However, Dean nodded regardless, even if he was still partially wary of what Cas had planned. His smile returned, softer this time, as he placed Dean’s arms around his neck, locking them together. “Then hold on.”

Just like that, Cas fell backwards into the lake, Dean falling along with him. He shouted, the shock of cold water hitting him quickly, abruptly stopping all rational thoughts as his body tried to adjust. Dean almost scrambled to try to get to the surface, his head still under the water and arms locked around Cas’ neck, when he was suddenly pushed back above into the air.

Dean took a deep breath, his grip around Cas tightening. He felt Cas laugh against him. “I told you you’d be fine,” Cas said, smiling widely.

Dean just scrunched up his face, the cold seeping into his body. “This was a horrible plan,” he muttered, not realizing that he automatically got as close to Cas as he could for heat.

“Uh Dean, I need my legs to swim,” Cas mentioned. Dean’s eyes widened and he flushed, untangling his legs from Cas’. He was going to die from embarrassment one of these days. It was terrifying being in the water. His small encounter in the river was nothing compared to this. Then, he had been practically pushed onto the embankment. Here, with only Cas keeping him from sinking, he was quite literally in Cas’ hands.

When Cas began to swim further out into the lake, pulling Dean along with him, Dean let out a small gasp as he scrambled to keep his grip around his friend’s neck. Cas, to his surprise, didn’t laugh at him or make any teasing remarks. He simply cocked his head, the action so common that Dean was surprised his neck wasn’t permanently bent in that direction, and softly smiled at Dean.

Dean felt Cas’ hands grip his waist, pulling them together. Dean’s breathing hitched, not knowing what to do. He felt his jaw open as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he and Cas just stared at each other, as Cas propelled them through the water, keeping his grip around Dean.

After the shock of being in the water wore off and realizing Cas wasn’t going to let him drown, Dean found it pleasant. To say that the situation was relaxing was an understatement. It was as if the world faded and it was just him and Cas. He didn’t even realize he had laid his head on Cas’ shoulder, his arms wrapped around him, until the hands that had previously holding his waist wrapped around his back, holding them tight together. Even then, neither made a move to break apart, Cas treading water and keeping them in the same spot.

Dean didn’t know how long they stayed in the water. Time seemed to slow down. However, a shiver down his spine made him realize that they’d probably been there a lot longer than he had thought. “We should probably be getting back, before Donna thinks I murdered you,” Dean reasoned. Cas grunted his agreement, but they didn’t seem to move any further. Only after a few moments did Dean feel the pull of water against him as Cas slowly began swimming back to the shore.

Cas waited until Dean had gotten out of the water before following behind him, which Dean found endearing. His friend got out of the water and smiled at Dean. “Well, that was one way to wake up,” Cas said.

Dean smirked at him. “Good thing I’m stealing that blanket,” he said. Before Cas could say a word, Dean gave him a strong shove back into the water, sprinting towards the blanket and running into the alley.

“Get back here with that blanket!” he heard Cas yell at him, both of their footsteps echoing. Dean laughed as he felt himself be pursued. He had nearly reached the door to the inn when Cas caught up to him. “Don’t you dare think that you can just run off with my blanket and get away with it.” Dean felt the blanket being pulled from his shoulders and he gripped it tightly.

“Your blanket? It was both of ours until you literally kicked me out of the bed,” Dean argued, fighting to keep the blanket. Seeing an opportunity, he quickly jumped back, with Cas’ grip on the blanket dropping. He danced out of reach, constantly side-stepping Cas’ advances to get the blanket.

“Well now I’m cold and I want our blanket, if you’d be so kind as to give it to me,” Cas grumbled, still trying to grab it. Dean smiled as he watched Cas try and fail to grab the blanket. Using the momentum to his advantage, Dean wrapped the two of them together side by side, catching Cas by surprise.

“See? That wasn’t that hard. Just had to admit it was our blanket.” Cas glared at him, even though the amusement in his eyes never faded. They walked together into the inn, still dripping wet, but now with some warmth wrapped around both of them.

Donna had her back to them when they entered, as she was chatting with Jody. He made eye contact with Jody who stifled a laugh. “I’ll be with you in just a second. I-,” Donna started as she turned to see who it was, as Jody gave into her laughter. Dean gave a small wave to the two of them as her eyebrows raised. “What happened to the two of you?”

“Dean is what happened. He thought it’d be a good idea to throw me into the lake,” Cas explained. Dean jabbed Cas in the ribs with his elbow playfully. Taking it in stride, Cas continued. “Naturally, I had to pull him into the water too.”

Jody grinned. “You look like two cats forced into being bathed,” she joked, gesturing to them. He could only imagine how crazed they looked.

Dean grinned. “Oh please. Don’t flatter the man. He’ll grow an ego from such compliments,” he teased. This time, it was Cas’ turn to hit him in the ribs, harder than probably necessary, causing a little grunt to escape. He deserved that.

Donna’s gaze darted between the two of them, placing her hands on her hips. “Well, seeing as the festivities begin in an hour and breakfast is ready in the dining hall, I’ll leave you to it. I assume you have a change of clothes for the day?” she said.

He glanced at Cas, who looked back at him and shrugged. Dean chuckled. “I’m guessing you don’t have anything extra we might borrow until these dry, do you?” he asked hesitantly.

She smiled. “Good thing for the two of you, yeah, I do have a couple of extra outfits I can spare you,” Donna explained.

“But they’ll cost you,” Jody quickly jumped in. Dean’s eyes widened at her, wondering what the price was. “Claire and Jack will be at the festival today. Guess who they haven’t stopped talking about since they met them yesterday? Two guys who they’d love to spend some more time with today if they can.”

Dean looked to Cas, raising an eyebrow. Cas turned his head, as if considering it, but he already knew he’d say yes. He nodded, and Dean grinned. He really wanted to see those two kids again. “Well, they’re hard terms, but we accept your offer,” Dean concurred. Jody smiled.

“Fantastic. I’ll let them know they have two special guests coming to meet them this afternoon.”

Donna nodded. “Well, now that that’s settled. You go on up to your room. I’ll get your stuff together and I’ll be there with your dry outfits shortly, alright?”

Both he and Cas smiled. “Sounds good,” Dean agreed, abruptly taking a step towards the stairs, leaving Cas to scramble to grab the blanket once again. He chuckled lightly, even if Cas glared at him, shoving him into the wall, as they made their way back to their room.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before Donna knocked on the door, leaving two sets of clothes on the top step. Dean was more than happy to change out of his wet clothes. Both he and Cas had been standing awkwardly in their shared space, not knowing what to do with themselves while waiting for Donna.

She hadn’t given him any shoes, and he smiled, happy that she noticed that he refused to wear those miserable contraptions.

Dean grabbed his new outfit and walked to one side of the room, while Cas stayed on the other with his clothes. He started to grab the hem of his shirt, almost beginning to take it off, when he looked up and saw Cas staring at him intently, as if he had no intention of turning away. Stammering, Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning red. “So, uh, I’ll face this wall, and you. Uh, you’ll face that one, and then we’ll let each other know when we’re done, alright?” he reasoned.

Cas nodded, thankfully ignoring the way he failed to speak coherently, before turning around. Dean took a deep breath, trying to get his brain back to working. However, before he could turn to face his wall, Cas pulled off his shirt.

Dean gulped, his eyes scanning over the muscles across Cas’ back. He knew he should turn away, listen to the rules that he supplied, but he couldn’t help but ogle the way that Cas’ shoulders moved and bunched together, or the tan skin that looked so smooth that he just wanted to run his hands over it. There was a large scar running across the centre of his back, and Dean assumed that was the one that Cas had been speaking about when he talked about the scar from his brothers. He wanted to trace the line with his fingertips, feel the ridged notches of the hardened tissue.

He jolted, realizing what he had been imagining, and it was terrifying, to say the least. He didn’t understand why he stared, or why he wanted to trace that scar. That small nagging voice in his head whispered that he knew exactly why, the same one that kept replaying his father’s words in his head, but he chose to ignore it. But, as time went on, it was getting more and more difficult to do so.

However, when Cas moved his hands to his hips, pulling at the waist of his pants, Dean instinctively turned to the wall, a blush heating his cheeks. He hit himself lightly on the forehead, getting himself to focus on the fact that he needed to change, and not the fact that Cas was changing behind him.

Moving on from his slip up, Dean began to strip out of the soaked outfit. It felt really nice to get out of the wet clothes. Peeling them off his skin was an excruciating experience in itself, as each layer of fabric seemed to cling to his skin and did not want to let go. However, Donna had chosen an excellent selection for himself. The tunic itself was very soft, and an impeccable shade of green that he thought matched his eyes. The pants were a light cream color, fitting nicely against him. He felt cozy in the outfit and was happy with the selection.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Dean called over his shoulder, keeping his back towards his friend, trying to forget that he had been casually watching Cas undress mere moments ago.

“I’m also ready.” Dean turned around and had to bite his lip as he took in the sight before him. He was so used to seeing Cas in his white shirt and vest combo, that seeing him in something else was strange to say the least, but exhilarating. Cas was wearing a dark blue tunic, contrasting his vibrant light eyes, making the color pop. The sleeves looked like they had a light gold stitching, accenting the sleeves and the small patterns of swirls sewn in. The trousers he had on were black and tight-fitting, so Dean could make out his lean form. Cas’ hair was still messed up as ever, and it took all of his will power to not go and ruffle it some more. However, the flower crown Jack had made nestled lightly in those fluffy locks, and it really brought the outfit together.

The dark ensemble with the dark hair and crown had Dean melting, as Cas cocked his head at him. “Well, how do I look?” he asked, breaking Dean out of his trance.

Dean swallowed, searching for a witty reply, as he couldn’t take his eyes off his friend. Breathtaking was what he wanted to say, the word dying on his tongue. Instead, he blurted out, “You don’t look like a drowned cat anymore.” He internally cursed himself. Why were those the words that fell from his mouth?

Cas laughed, the noise echoing off the small room, filling Dean with an overwhelming sense of joy. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Now,” Cas put his hand to his hip, his elbow jutting out to the side, while his other held up Dean’s crown. “Shall we go join these festivities and see our friends?” He raised his eyebrows, as if in invitation.

Dean only blinked. What did he miss? “Yes?” he answered hesitantly, as he took the crown and placed it on his head, all the while eyeing Cas’ arm as it didn’t move from its position. Guessing as to what he was meant to do, Dean mimicked his position, his hand on his waist, hoping he made the right choice. A light chuckle came from Cas, and Dean knew he messed it up.

“See,” Cas started, grabbing Dean’s arm with his free hand, moving it so it was wrapped around his own, interlocked at the elbows. “You’re supposed to link arms with mine, assuming you’re okay with that?”

Dean didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t trust his words. He hadn’t been expecting to be touching Cas, so the position was foreign to him. However, Cas was waiting for him to respond. He nodded quickly. “Yep, totally fine,” he said. His voice most certainly did not crack on the last word.

Cas led them down the stairs, the arms being separated for the descent as it was only wide enough for one person, but they joined together again when they reached the bottom step. It was a strange experience. Dean didn’t know if this was a normal thing to do, keep their arms together as they walked beside each other, personal space being completely ignored, but he found that he really didn’t care. He was perfectly content walking with Cas like this.

They ate quickly, before heading out of the inn. Donna had mentioned that the festivities were taking place in the main square by the fountain, where he had seen Jack and Claire yesterday. He was looking forward to going back, to see the kids, but also to hopefully get some more pie.

He glanced at Cas, who stared at him, his eyes soft with a small smile hinting at his lips. Dean found himself staring back under the intense gaze, even if it really wasn’t that intense. “What?” he asked, a smile starting to creep onto his face, finding himself happy that Cas was happy.

The man in question simply shrugged and hummed to himself, not answering the question. Dean let it slide, only because they had reached the square. He hadn’t realized they had walked so far that it genuinely startled him when he heard two voices call “DEAN AND JIMMY!”

Cas let go of him just in time for him to be tackled by a small pair of arms, promptly toppling Dean onto his back. He groaned where his back hit the cobblestones, but he quickly wrapped his arms around the kid. “Heya Jack. Good to see you too,” he said, as he huffed out a laugh, grimacing slightly as his elbow throbbed, where he’d have a bruise for the rest of the day, at least until he could heal it later. He was relieved to see Cas in the same situation, with Claire holding him tightly.

The boy sat up and grinned at them, his smile so boyish while he missed one of his two front teeth. “Are you going to join the festival with us? We can do some painting, or make a craft, or eat some sweets? Oh please say yes!” Jack asked him with so much enthusiasm that Dean had a hard time saying no to anything the kid wanted.

“Alright, let the poor men be. They just got here, and we have the whole day ahead of us. There’ll be plenty of time for everything,” a woman called from behind him. Jack pouted as he got off of Dean, relinquishing his hug, before wrapping his arms around Cas.

Though he tried to stand, Claire also barreled him with a hug, refusing to let him get off the ground.

Dean turned his head to see Jody walking up to him, Sam in her hands, and she smiled at him. He returned the grin. “I see Jack and Claire already came and said hi.”

Cas offered out his hand to help him up. Dean took the support and pulled himself up, grabbing his crown where it had fallen loose, and adjusted it back on his head. If Cas had kept his hand on Dean’s back for a second or two longer than necessary to support him, neither said anything.

Claire grabbed Sam from Jody, holding him lightly in her hands. It just made Dean grin. He turned to the guinea pig in her hands. “Hopefully Sam here wasn’t too much of a nuisance.”

Claire quickly shook her head while Sam merely glared at him. Good to see you again too, jerk.

“Ah, there you two are. I was wondering if we’d see ya today,” he heard a voice call. Dean turned to see Ellen and Bobby walking towards him and Cas, as Claire scampered off with Jack and Sam. “I hope Bobby didn’t give y’all too much trouble.”

The gruff man, in his usual fashion, grunted. “I wasn’t the one acting like he couldn’t stand on his own two feet while trying to talk to someone.” Bobby gave him a pointed look, and Dean rubbed the back of his neck, a blush rising to his cheeks while Cas stifled a laugh beside him.

“It was his fault,” Dean muttered, casting a glare at his companion, who only plastered an innocent look on his face. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to Ellen. “I didn’t think you would be here today. I thought you’d still be at the Roadhouse.”

She snorted. “It’s one of our largest celebrations here in Lawrence. I’m allowed to take one day off every once in awhile, unlike him,” she said, pointing at her husband. Bobby grumbled, but she just pulled him into her side affectionately. “The Roadhouse may be my pride and joy, but nobody misses the festival.”

As if on cue, a familiar figure popped into his vision. “Hey Clarence. Don’t you look scrumptious?” Meg drawled, staring at Cas, ignoring Dean entirely. He straightened immediately, his amusement fading as she eyed his friend up and down. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him. Cas, on the other hand, seemed neutral to the interaction.

“Hello Meg,” he replied cordially, as if the woman hadn’t tried to kill him a couple of days ago. It was surprising to Dean to say the least. Cas’ expression betrayed nothing about how he was feeling. To Dean’s surprise, he kept going. “You’re looking lovely today.”

Dean clenched his jaw as she twirled around in front of them, her dress spinning in a beautiful circle around her. She grinned up at Cas. “You really know how to make a woman feel all tingly, don’t you?” she remarked. Dean may have not known much about human interaction, but even he could tell she was being extra… something. He didn’t realize his hands had formed into fists until he released the tension in his shoulders, trying not to let it bother him. It didn’t help the matter when she placed a hand on Cas’ bicep and squeezed. “How about you and I get out of here for awhile?”

Dean coughed to signal he was still there. Meg barely even gave him a second glance before turning back to Cas. Cas, on the other hand, glanced at Dean, making eye contact. To his shock, Cas nodded, smiling, before turning his head back to the woman. “I’d be delighted.” With that, Cas and Meg began to walk away without another word, leaving Dean by himself.

He opened his mouth to call after them, but promptly closed it, not knowing what he would say. “Dean, do you want to come do some crafts with us?” Jack asked, grinning, as he watched their retreating forms. Dean smiled at him, though there was a slightly hollow feeling in his chest.

“Sure thing, kid,” he said, ruffling Jack’s hair, as the boy led him and everyone to the craft section. Each person started working on something for themselves, even Bobby, to his surprise. The man was the last person he would have suspected to do something like that, but Dean didn’t dare ask as Bobby glared at him, knowing he was going to say something.

Working on his own craft, a small wooden bird, he tried to keep his demeanor happy for Claire and Jack, but it was difficult.

Why did it matter to him who Cas decided to hang out with? He wasn’t in charge of the man; he could make his own decisions. And yet, Dean couldn’t help but feel a sting watching Cas leave with the woman, who still had his arm in her grip, and not invite him.

Sighing, Dean continued on his craft, painting it a light blue, laughing and joking with the kids, ignoring the fact that he wanted Cas to be beside him.

Chapter Text

Castiel didn’t know why he accepted Meg’s invitation to go for a walk. He couldn’t help the fact that Dean looked ready to combust while seeing the lady touch Castiel’s arm. It made him want to laugh, if he was being honest with himself.

However, now having started walking with Meg and no longer having Dean within his line of sight, Castiel shook out of her grip. “What would you like, Meg?” he asked, keeping his tone polite.

Meg pouted at him, jutting out her bottom lip. “Can’t a girl just want to spend time with her favorite thief?” she said innocently. When Castiel refused to budge, not deigning her with a response, she huffed. “Fine. I just wanted to make your boyfriend there jealous. You looked so lovey-dovey at him; it made me want to throw up.”

Castiel frowned, ignoring the way his stomach did a somersault when Meg called Dean his boyfriend, but he would not dwell on his own feelings. “Why would Dean be jealous? I’m just a friend to him,” he responded, keeping his voice unwavering.

Meg only raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure about that Clarence? You go around risking your neck for someone who is just a friend?” She mocked. Castiel turned away, not wanting to look in her eye.

He had to keep telling himself that he would be bringing Dean back to his tower in the next day or two, and he was loath to admit that he was dreading it. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. We will be splitting ways shortly after the festival anyways, so it’s not of import what Dean thinks of me.”

Meg snorted. “Well ignoring the obvious friendship you have going on here,” she drawled, sarcasm dripping from her words. “What gift are you getting him for the festival? In a purely friend way of course.”

Castiel cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

This time, Meg genuinely looked annoyed at him. “Please tell me you’re not truly this dense, Clarence. The festival, where the whole point is to celebrate the gift of others,” she explained with a hint of disgust in her tone, as if that made things any clearer to him. He blinked, still not understanding, and she rolled her eyes. “You get a gift for whoever you come with.”

“Oh,” he said, finally understanding. He never had been to the festival before. On the rare occasion he had been near the capital in the days leading up to it or the days following, he had been on the run with his brothers, never paying attention to the reasoning behind it. But now that he knew what was tradition… “I’ll admit I haven’t given it much thought.”

Meg snorted. “No kidding. Well, good for you, I am the best person to come to when finding gifts, assuming you can manage without your boyfr-. Sorry, I mean friend, for a couple of hours or so,” she offered.

Castiel considered it for a moment, ignoring her mockery. He truly didn’t know what he could get Dean. He assumed most things would still be fairly new to the man, but he wanted to get something special for him, even if Dean didn’t get him something in return.

He grimaced. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” Meg merely smiled innocently.

“You really know how to flatter a girl,” she replied, taking his arm once again, leading him further into the capital.

After an hour of checking each of the shops for something that seemed like Dean, Castiel wanted to admit defeat. He had to agree with Meg, as she was brilliant at coming up with gift ideas. She suggested a number of different things to give his friend, from a unique souvenir of the capital to a scarf that the seller would embroider one’s initials into. Though each of the ideas had merit, nothing seemed right for Dean.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, as Meg checked out one final shop to see if there was something in it. Maybe if no one told Dean, then he could get through the day without having to give him a present, even if he felt guilty at the mere thought. She came back, her face jovial. “Meg, this is hopeless. I apologize for wasting your time, but I clearly can’t find a present to give to Dean.”

Meg quickly pulled on his arm, leading him to the shop. “Oh Clarence, ye of little faith. I think I found the perfect thing for Dean,” she explained, a smile on her face. He rolled his eyes but obliged, following her inside.

“You said that the last seven times,” Castiel grumbled. She shot him a glare but didn’t comment on his remark, merely pulling him further.

Castiel was surprised to find the inside of a pawn shop, with a bunch of different selections to display. He realized he hadn’t actually looked at the sign when he had been outside, but the place was quite filled. There were clocks filling up an entire wall of the store, while dolls and small knick-knacks filled up the other. The tables on the ground had similar items, with toys, figurines, and little household utensils lining them.

However, Meg ignored them all and pulled him to the front of the store, where the more valuable items were held on display behind a counter. The attendant was waiting for them, with a little box in his hands. “Meg, what is it that you wanted to show me? I’m sure it can’t be that valuable.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked, before gesturing at the man. “Well, tell me for yourself if this will be fit for your unicorn.” Nodding, the attendant opened the box.

“Meg, you can’t be serio-,” Castiel started but any words died on his mouth as he took in what was in the box. It was a silver ring, with an intricately designed star carved into it. The ring had a small round bump on the top, which intrigued him.

Seeming to understand his curiosity, the attendant spoke. “The ring opens up for the wearer. They can put whatever they would like in the covering, which keeps it sealed and secured. In similar designs, people often would put a small gem stone inside as a gift from their loved ones. In olden days, others may add drops of poison, in case of an emergency. It depends on the person.”

Castiel nodded, taking in the information. He didn’t know what Dean may put in the covering, but he hoped it would be something important. “And the star?”

“Folks say it’s called a Devil’s Trap. Supposedly, it was used to ward off evil, such as demons or other monsters,” the attendant explained. Castiel laughed, as it was truly fitting.

He knew the gift was perfect for Dean. “What is your price?” he asked, looking forward to giving the present to Dean.

The worker hummed. “Well, this isn’t a common ring. I’ve only seen it one other time in my life, and that was many years ago. But I’ll make you a deal. The ring and something else on the display for 10 gold pieces.”

Castiel bristled at the price. It was quite steep, but he knew that Dean wearing the ring would be worth the price. Nodding, he scanned the rest of the items on the display. His eyes landed on a small sword, catching his gaze. It was seemingly simple, with an unadorned silver handle, with no further designs, but it looked sturdy. He looked at the shopkeeper, pointing at the weapon. “The ring and the blade for 10 gold pieces?” he asked, making sure that was still the deal.

The man smiled at him, pulling the blade out of its display and putting it in a sheath. “You certainly know how to choose your relics, don’t you? An angel sword and devil’s ring. Quite the combination,” he said amused. Castiel pulled out the money, handing him the proper amount, and was given the ring box and blade. “Much obliged sir. Have a nice day, you two.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, strapping the sheath to his waist and placing the ring box in his pocket. He walked out the shop, with Meg by his side, much more delighted than he had been going in.

“Tell me Clarence, am I not just the girl of your dreams?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips. Castiel rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“Besides the fact that you wanted to kill me when we first met, I’d say you are quite adequate,” Castiel said, trying to keep his tone neutral, but he was truly grateful to her for helping to find the gift.

Meg placed her hand on her chest and let out a dramatic gasp. “A compliment from you? Should I expect a proposal coming soon?” Castiel gave her a pointed look and she grinned at him, gesturing her head back to the square. “Go enjoy the day with your unicorn. Even if it is just for the day and you have to part ways soon, make the most of it, and give him a large kiss for me, would you?”

Ignoring the last remark even as he felt color flush his cheeks, Castiel bowed his head in thanks. “I couldn’t have found this without you, Meg. Thank you.”

She turned away from him, starting to stride away. “My insides feel all mushy with your kind words, Clarence. I’ll see you around,” she called over her shoulder.

Smiling, Castiel made his way back to the main square, not knowing what the plan for the rest of the day was. All he knew was that he was waiting in anticipation for Dean’s reaction.

Chapter Text

It had been at least a couple of hours since Cas left with Meg and Dean couldn’t help but be anxious. It felt wrong enjoying the festivities without Cas, even if they had never agreed they’d be doing all of them together. Dean had naturally assumed they would be though. Now though, his mind was starting to wander and panic with all the people around him, as he excused himself and sat down alone, while his friends continued enjoying themselves.

Just sitting there did nothing to keep his thoughts at bay. Though he tried to keep them joyful, they kept straying back to the way Meg had looked at Cas like he was something to eat. He didn’t like that look.

At some point, Claire had brought Sam over to the table where Dean was sitting, most likely at Jody’s insistence, if the way she kept looking over her shoulder at him was any indication.

Dean smiled at Claire, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. She smiled back, either not realizing how forced the look was or ignoring it, and walked back to Jack and the others. Are you alright? Sam asked him, as he kept watch in the crowd for a head of dark hair or mesmerizing blue eyes.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly Sammy, I’m not too sure.” When Sam didn’t say anything, just stared at him patiently, Dean continued. “I mean, it’s normal to miss your friend, right? I miss you if I can’t find you somewhere in the tower, but it never hurts this bad.”

Did something happen with you and Cas? Dean’s immediate reaction was to say no, but he hesitated. Had something happened between him and Cas? It had been a whirlwind since he had seen Sam last, with the library, the night in the hotel, this morning at the docks. He thought that things between them were good, more than good, if he was being honest.

Placing his head down on the table, Dean recounted for Sam all that had happened between the two of them, omitting the part where he woke up with his arm around Cas or when they just held each other in the water. There were some things even he wouldn’t tell Sam, as they somehow felt more personal than he wanted to share.

When he got to telling Sam about their change of outfits, he accidentally admitted to begin to watch Cas undress. Sam laughed as his face reddened. Well, that’s one way to ruin a friendship.

Dean glared at him. “Shut up, bitch,” he snarled, even as the words took root. Maybe Cas somehow knew and was upset at him? He didn’t think it would be an issue, but he still didn’t understand a lot of customs. What if somehow, he had ruined their friendship? Was that why Cas had gone off with Meg?

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Of course he had to go and ruin one of the only good things in his life by making a mistake. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Dean just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Sam seemed to understand where his thoughts were headed. Hey, I’m just joking. Cas likes you too, jerk. He wouldn’t let something simple like that make you guys enemies. He’s probably just trying to make you jealous.

Dean’s brow furrowed. “Jealous?” he asked. It was a familiar word, he was pretty sure his father had said it at some point, but it was one that he hadn’t used before. Sam only squeaked in return. I am not going to even try to explain that one to you.

He frowned at the guinea pig. “What, you say I’m jealous and then don’t even tell me what it means? Come on man, that’s just rude. What does it mean?”

Sam took on an almost cocky tone. It doesn’t matter. Just know that you are jealous of Cas hanging out with Meg and not you.

“Fine. Let’s say I am jealous of Cas going off with her and not me. Does that mean he doesn’t like me anymore?” Dean asked him, failing to notice the shadow coming up behind him.

A large pressure settled on his head as Sam quietly laughed. “You’re jealous of Meg? You really think I’d rather hang out with Meg than you?” a deep familiar voice asked from above, amusement lacing the tone. Dean’s heart swooped as he slowly leaned his head back slightly, looking at Cas over top of him. His cheeks flushed, as he felt caught in an act.

“Still don’t know what jealous means, but Sammy here seems to believe so,” he said, keeping his voice detached. Dean cleared his throat, trying, and failing, to pass for nonchalant. “Speaking of, how is Meg? I’m sure you and her had a good time together.”

“Meg wanted to make up for when her actions at the Roadhouse. We walked and chatted, and though she may try to convince others to the contrary, she’s not terrible,” Cas explained. Dean shrugged, still feeling a heaviness in his chest.

“Well, then where is she now, huh? I’d have thought you two would be spending the day together, seeing as you two are so close now,” Dean dared to ask, bitterness coming through his voice. He didn’t mean to sound so negative, but he was admittedly hurt with Cas ditching him for awhile. He heard a distinct mutter from Sam which he decided to ignore.

Dean felt the vibrations of Cas’ chuckle run through his body, his arms still leaning on top of Dean’s head. “You’re alluring when you’re jealous,” Cas whispered, almost incoherently. A shiver ran through Dean’s body, even as he felt himself flush. “But no, I want to spend the day with you, not her. After all, I still need to find a way to get you back for pushing me into the water this morning.”

Dean turned around sharply in his seat, looking up and glaring at Cas, even as he kept his arms on Dean’s head. “Pulling me in with you doesn’t count?” he asked. He felt any heaviness start to disappear as Cas smiled at him, but he did his best to hold his frown.

“That was just spur of the moment fun. Today, we have an entire festival going on, where anything unexpected could happen. I’d suggest you watch your back.” Cas stared at him, and Dean found himself unable to look away, with no retort on his tongue. Something about this man just seemed so captivating to him; it drove Dean mad.

Music started to play and drew Dean’s attention away from Cas, regardless of their close proximity. He looked towards the fountain, where a little band had formed. He didn’t recognize most of the instruments, only seeing one that he could identify. A violin, if he recalled correctly from one of his books. Someone had a tube pressed to their mouth, which intrigued him. Another person had some sort of stringed instrument which they played with their hands. He would have to ask Cas about that later.

Dean watched as the crowd began to dance energetically to the music, as it was fast and upbeat. He saw Claire begin to twirl around with the group and smiled. He pointed, making sure Cas saw. Cas repositioned himself on Dean’s head, following his finger. “Look at Claire go!” Dean exclaimed, joy filling him watching the girl dance and grin to herself.

“Let’s go say hi,” Cas said, no longer leaning on top of Dean, and scooped Sam up with one of his hands. To his surprise, Cas grabbed Dean’s hand with his free one and started pulling him along. Dean didn’t protest though, stumbling to catch up with Cas. They made their way to where Jody and Donna were standing with Jack and another young girl he didn’t recognize; Ellen and Bobby nowhere to be found. Even as they stopped in front of their friends, Cas didn’t let go of Dean’s hand. He didn’t let go either.

The two ladies smiled at them, while Claire started to run back to the group. Jack immediately embraced Cas, then him, before running off somewhere. “Hey fellas, how are you doing?” Donna asked, holding the girl’s hand. She seemed to be around the same age as Claire and Jack. “I’d like for you two to meet Kaia, my daughter.”

Dean smiled to himself as the girl stared the two of them down, her gaze unwavering even as she held her mom’s hand. She only softened when Claire was back with them. Claire also gave them both a hug, then carefully grabbed Sam from Cas. “It’s nice to meet you Kaia,” Dean said, hoping for any type of hopeful reaction from the girl. She only glared at him.

“Dean! Can you dance with me?” Jack asked, seemingly appearing out nowhere, his grin lighting up his whole face. How the kid had so much energy, Dean had no idea. Before he could even answer, Jack was tugging his hand, pulling him away from Cas, and into the square

Regardless, he graciously accepted the offer. “Of course.” He really had no idea what he was doing, but seeing as everyone else dancing was just spinning, he figured he could give it a shot.

Looking around at the other people dancing, Dean had an idea. “Hey Jack, you want to have some fun?” he asked the boy. The glint in his eye was pure innocence and joy, as he nodded his head enthusiastically. “Ok. Stand on my feet and hold onto my arms tightly, alright?”

“Ok,” Jack said, doing as Dean asked. He wasn’t heavy enough for it to hurt Dean, as he had suspected when coming up with his plan, and thankfully, Jack wasn’t wearing any shoes, going around barefoot just like Dean. 

“You ready?” Dean asked, making sure that the kid was prepared. He grinned at Dean, who smirked in turn. Without any warning, Dean started twirling aimlessly, kicking his legs up and jumping, while Jack stayed connected to his feet. Jack squealed with laughter, as the two of them spun around the square with no destination in mind, trying to avoid hitting other people dancing.

Dean chuckled, the joy in the boy’s eyes filling him to no end. He loved making the kid smile and never wanted it to stop. The kid deserved the world, and Dean would give it to him if he could. Shortly though, Dean’s lungs demanded a break, and his body forced him to stop their crazy dance.

He stopped them in front of their friends, where Jack let go of him, only to keep spinning to himself. Dean smiled, somewhat making out that Jody and Donna were laughing at Jack and even Kaia was smiling, but couldn’t dwell on it as a flood of dizziness that overwhelmed him. He only had a second before the world was suddenly tilting everywhere, his steps faltering underneath him. Dean stumbled backwards, only to feel something steady against his back, helping him stay upright.

“Easy there. We wouldn’t want your head to explode from all that spinning,” Cas rumbled in his ear, laughter evident in his voice. Dean would’ve snapped back, but his vision was still blurry. He was grateful for Cas holding him up, even if his skin felt electrified where he was leaning against his friend.

Finally, the world was back to its normal self, no longer spinning. Dean stepped out of Cas’ embrace, steady on his feet, and exhaled slowly. His skin was saddened by the loss of contact, but his brain told him it was just the dancing around that accounted for his heavy breathing, and not Cas holding onto him.

He listened to his brain.

Jody and Donna were smiling at the two of them, the same smile on both of their faces as if they knew something he didn’t. He watched them look at each other, before looking back at him and Cas, their smiles having grown. Dean just grinned back, feeling like he was missing something, but in a good way for once. “What is it?”

Jody just shrugged, biting her cheek. “Nothing,” she answered, being anything but helpful. Dean’s brow furrowed, wondering what the two ladies were smiling at.

Dean watched as Claire set Sam down on the nearby table and approached them. “Um, excuse me, Jimmy,” she started. She looked to Dean, hesitating. He nodded encouragingly, not knowing what she wanted to ask Cas, but he knew that he was trustworthy. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Cas’ face went into absolute shock and Dean found it adorable. Though he had been hanging around with them as much as Jack had, he didn’t think Cas was used to the attention. He watched his friend’s face melt into a smile and it was everything to him. “I’d love to dance, Claire.” Claire grabbed his hand and led him to the square, a small smile playing at her lips.

At one point, Cas looked back at Dean, as if he needed encouragement. Dean just flashed him a grin, knowing that Cas could handle it. He watched with glee as Cas seemed to be having a conversation with Claire, but it was too far away to make out the words.

Quickly though, Dean thought he understood what they had been discussing, as Claire assumed a similar position to what Jack had been doing with Dean, where she stood on Cas’ feet and grabbed onto his arms.

Soon, Cas was jumping around the square, twirling the two of them around chaotically. Dean laughed at the sight, Claire’s hair whipping around them while Cas’ face morphed with glee. He could hear the two of them laughing with each other, even with the distance, and his heart felt like it would burst, swelling with joy.

He didn’t know how long they danced or how long he stood there watching them. All he knew was that he was mesmerized by Cas’ movements, even if the movements were sporadic and all over the place. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him, as he found the dance to be graceful in its frenzied manner.

Dean was shocked, and saddened, to see the two of them come back to their little group. Was their dance already over? Dean felt like it had only lasted seconds, in the way that he had been engrossed by it.

Claire fell over almost right away, giggling like their dance had been the funniest thing in the world, into the arms of Kaia who dashed towards her instantly.

Cas had a bit more grace than Dean had had. He grabbed his head, but besides that, he didn’t fall over. “I must admit, that was exhilarating, but I may also be sick in the foreseeable future,” Cas admitted, sounding content but tired.

Dean chuckled, clapping his hand on his friend’s back. “That was awesome, man. Did Jack and I look that frantic the entire time?”

Cas smiled at him, the grin large and gummy. “You looked like a drunken goose. It was hilarious, and quite entertaining, to be honest,” he explained. Dean shoved him in the shoulder, causing Cas to stumble over, even as embarrassment coursed through his veins.

“Shut up,” Dean muttered half-heartedly, helping Cas stay upright. He didn’t understand how Cas made him feel embarrassed, but at the same time, utterly amazing.

Claire grinned at him before looking at Cas. “Now it’s your turn to dance!” she exclaimed excitedly, still giggling from earlier. Even Kaia seemed to like the idea, nodding her agreement to Claire’s idea. Before either of them had time to interject, Jack jumped up.

“Yes! You need to dance together!” he said, grabbing one of Dean’s hands. Dean’s brain didn’t work as Jack also grabbed Cas’ hand, putting their hands together. He beamed up at the two of them, unaware of his brain’s failure to function.

Cas looked at him, his eyes wide and sincere. It did nothing to calm his nerves. He wanted to dance with Cas, of course he did. But at the same time, the mere thought was terrifying and enough to set the butterflies in his stomach storming around.

“I-,” Dean stammered, trying to come up with something to say. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to or anything.” He gave Cas the option to back out. That way, he didn’t feel like he was the one to stop them.

To his surprise, Cas smiled and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I will not step on your toes, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Dean laughed, feeling less tense about the situation.

He felt a small shove on his back, causing him to stumble forward. “Go! Go! Go!” Jack shouted, pushing them forward as much as he could.

Gulping, Dean nodded. Cas held onto his hand as he led them to the dancing square. Every step forward made Dean feel like he was going to forget how to breathe.

Suddenly, they stopped, in the right spot to dance. Cas turned towards him, a small crease on his forehead as he looked at Dean. “Do you want to dance with me, Dean? I don’t want to pressure you into anything, so if you don’t wish to dance, that is alright,” Cas said, concern evident in his tone. He looked almost saddened and Dean shook his head.

“No,” he said quietly, not wanting Cas to leave.

Cas’ face fell, letting go of his hand, but he nodded. “Of course. I apologize for assuming-”

Dean’s eyes widened and quickly scrambled to grab his hand again. “No, I mean, I do want to dance, just not with you.” He realized what he said as a flash of pain flickered across Cas' face, and backtracked immediately. “No, that came out very wrong. I want to dance. And with you. Yes, I would like to dance with you. I just.” He took a deep breath, trying to form the words.

Cas was listening attentively as always. It made Dean so grateful. “I don’t know how to dance and you’re going to see that very quickly and you’re going to realize that it was a mistake dancing with me,” he blurted quickly, looking down at the ground, not meeting his eyes.

After all, that was the crux of all this, wasn’t it? Dean didn’t know the world. He didn’t know how to dance, especially not with Cas. Yet here he was, wanting to dance with him more than anything, but was afraid, because he didn’t want to see the moment when Cas saw just how much of a failure he was.

Cas leaned his head down, getting into Dean’s line of sight. He flickered his eyes up, holding his gaze. “Dean, what makes you think I would ever find doing anything with you a mistake, dancing or otherwise? I enjoy spending time with you, whether for good or bad.”

They both straightened, standing properly. “If you aren’t the world’s greatest dancer, then that’s that. Neither am I. I haven’t danced properly since I was a child and even then, I only knew the basic steps. If you’re willing though, we can try and be bad dancers together.”

Dean swallowed, looking into his blue eyes. He saw nothing but trust there, and the weight on his shoulders loosened. He smiled softly. “I think I can manage that.”

Cas smiled, pulling him closer. Dean inhaled shakily, letting Cas adjust their position. He ended up with one hand on Cas’ shoulder, the other holding one of his hands. He tried not to move as Cas put his hand on Dean’s waist.

“Are you ready?” Cas asked. Dean only nodded, not trusting his words. Cas slowly began to move and Dean followed, trying to copy his movements.

To say it was a mess would be an understatement. They twirled around a number of times, with Cas having spun Dean out to the side occasionally, but it was quite clumsy. He was pretty sure he nearly hit someone with his arm flying out.

Regardless of their chaotic routine, Cas furrowed his brow, determinedly concentrating on the steps. “I’m afraid this is more difficult than I remember,” Cas said quietly. Dean didn’t comment, but instead, did his best to keep up. He wouldn’t admit, even to himself, that he was too focused on Cas biting his lip to come up with any sort of response.

They were both doing horribly. He was pretty sure he had stepped on Cas’ feet at least 8 times in fewer minutes, apologizing each time, but Cas just waved it off, continuing the dance. Surprisingly though, Dean was rather enjoying himself.

He didn’t realize he was grinning until Cas tilted his head, smiling at him. “What’s so amusing?”

Trying to come up with a response, Dean forgot the rhythm of the dance, not that he was good at it to begin with. He stepped forward as did Cas, coming chest to chest and bumping heads with one another. Dean swore under his breath, reaching up to rub his forehead. “We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” He huffed out. He looked at Cas, who was also massaging his temples, a cute frown forming on his face. It was adorable and put Dean over the edge, starting to laugh.

Dean didn’t know what he found so funny, to be honest. It was just amazing being there with Cas, even if they probably looked like a bunch of idiots. Soon, he found Cas joining in with him, chuckling as well. They had both stopped moving at that point, just standing still, laughing with one another.

Neither of them moved, even as the laughter died off. They were still standing directly in front of each other, mere inches apart. There was a twinkle in Cas’ eyes, sending his nerves alight, and suddenly, Dean had the urge to kiss him.

Thankfully, his brain caught up before his body did, refraining from leaning in to do just that. He shook himself out of his stupor, trying to not get caught back up looking at Cas. Where did that thought even come from? He wasn’t really considering kissing his friend, was he? Even if said friend was attractive, delightful, had dark hair, blue eyes-

Dean cut off those thoughts, but not soon enough. He felt his cheeks heat, and only hoped Cas didn’t notice it, as they were still standing there, staring at one another.

Cas’ face had softened into something more tender, and Dean felt warmth pool in his stomach at the affection that was blatantly lying there. It was too much, because if he dwelled on it, he would fall much further than he had already.

Though his heart screamed at him not to, Dean cleared his throat, pulling back slightly to put a respectable distance between them. “We should probably be getting back to the group,” he said, albeit quietly. He didn’t miss the flicker of sadness in Cas’ eyes before he nodded, letting Dean lead the way.

Knowing he was still bad at words, Dean found himself grabbing Cas’ hand, trying to make his gesture clear. “Hey Cas?” he started, holding onto him as they walked back.

“Yes, Dean?”

He gave Cas’ hand a squeeze, not letting go. “Thanks.” The word didn’t do anything justice, but it was all he could manage. Dean wished he could tell Cas just how much he was thankful for. He wanted to show how much he appreciated the man; how he was thankful for the dance, for how Cas put up with his antics and misunderstandings, even grateful for taking him from the tower. He was glad Cas was in his life and he never wanted that to change.

Cas gave him a small smile, squeezing back. Dean knew he had understood, even if neither said a word. He was never going to hear the end of this from Sam, and he found he didn’t care.

Everyone in their group was staring at them, each with a mixture of expressions on their faces. Jody and Donna still had those grins on their faces, definitely knowing something he didn’t. Apparently at some point during their dance, Ellen and Bobby returned, watching them. She was leaning into her husband, whispering something in his ear, which made him chuckle, giving the two of them a pointed look.

Kaia, Claire, and Jack were giggling amongst themselves, stealing glances at the two of them before whispering to each other, dissolving into another fit.

Jack was the first of the little group to stand up, with some goading from Claire and Kaia, who were looking suspicious at best. Dean raised an eyebrow, curious what they were thinking about. Jack looked back at the two girls, who waved him on, before he approached the two of them. “Now that you danced together, are you going to ki-”

“Ok! Well, now that we worked out that energy, how about we go get a treat or something? Anyone have any suggestions?” Jody said to the group, crossing her arms, interrupting whatever question Jack had been about to ask. Whatever it had been, it didn’t seem as important to Jack, as he immediately got distracted by dessert.

Dean immediately perked up too. “Oh! We should go to Charlie’s Bakery!” he suggested, wanting another pie, but also wanting to see Charlie again.

“I second that suggestion,” Cas said beside him, still holding his hand.

“Charlie makes yummy cakes! You’ll love them!” Claire said, pulling Kaia to her feet, still holding Sam carefully in her hand.

Jody looked to Donna, who shrugged, then nodded. “All right. It’s settled then. Let’s go see Charlie.” She led the way to the bakery, with Donna beside her. Claire followed behind, holding her hand in Kaia’s as they walked along. Jack looked at both he and Cas, before he grinned, holding out both hands.

Dean smiled at the boy, noticing Cas do the same, before they each took one of Jack’s hands and began walking to the bakery, the kid skipping along between the two of them, keeping pace with them.

Dean couldn’t help his surprise when Cas got a mischievous grin on his face before he started skipping along with Jack. The boy giggled as he and Cas started to go further ahead, forcing Dean to keep up with their strides.

He started to skip alongside them, noticing how Cas’ grin widened as the three of them frolicked along. At one point, both he and Cas seemed to have the same idea, as they met each other’s eye and nodded. Slowly, bopping his head to the count of the three, they swung their arms up simultaneously, sending Jack in the air.

The boy squealed between them, kicking his legs out wildly, as he flew up. His eyes were wide with glee when he landed. “Do it again!” he exclaimed excitedly, his smile bright and gleeful.

This time, Cas did their countdown, so Jack didn’t know when it was coming. He shrieked when they lifted him up between them. Dean laughed, grinning fondly at Cas and Jack, thankful the two of them were in his life. Now, if Claire were there beside Jack, it would truly be perfect. But for the moment, Dean enjoyed his time with two of the most important people in his life.

Chapter Text

Sooner than he expected, everyone arrived at Charlie’s Bakery, minus Ellen and Bobby, who chose to spend the rest of the day at their home, because Bobby was on guard duty that evening. Dean let go of Jack’s hand, so the boy could follow the crowd in the door, as Dean held it open. When Cas was crossing the threshold, Dean bowed dramatically. “After you, kind sir,” he announced, giving a flourish with his hand.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” Cas deadpanned, causing Dean to laugh, even as he went into the shop. He closed the door behind them, the smell of baked goods filling his senses.

“I’ll be right with you!” Charlie called from somewhere behind the counter. Dean would guess she was finishing off baking something. Jody and Donna were already seated, with Kaia sitting beside Donna. Claire tugged on Cas’ arm, pulling him to their table.

“You sit beside me,” she said cheerfully, getting him to take the spot next to her, while Jack sat beside Cas on the other side, sandwiching the man between the siblings.

Dean smiled softly, seeing the three of them together. It made him happier than he dared to admit. Instead, he went behind the counter into the back room, looking for Charlie.

“Charlie?” He called, looking around the room. It was full of delicious smelling things. He recognized loaves of bread, and cookies now that they had been there before, but there were still many different items that he couldn’t put a name to. However, he saw some pies and smiled. Those he recognized. There were a lot larger than the one he had eaten the day before.

She finally emerged from some side room, a new baked good in her hands with a towel resting over top of it. Charlie grinned widely when she saw him, placing the treat on the counter. “Hey Dean!” she called, coming around her maze of treats to punch him on the shoulder. “Couldn’t go a day without more pie, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“You got me hooked, I’ll admit,” Dean said, not even bothering to hide the joy in his voice, even as he rolled his eyes fondly at her greeting. “But there are others here who also want your delicious treats. I just happened to say that your goods were the best and suggested we come here.” He gestured outside, back in the main area, and smiled.

“Well, looks like I’ve got to get some desserts ready. Want to help?” she asked, making her way out front, Dean following behind.

“Sure. Always happy to be of help,” he replied, waiting by the wall as she made her way over to the group. Dean noticed that her smile widened slightly as she saw Cas, but she didn’t say a word.

“Hey everybody, haven’t seen you guys here in a while. How are you all doing?” Charlie greeted, putting her hands on her hips. Dean was genuinely surprised that she didn’t give them the same greeting she had given he and Cas the day before, but was almost glad, considering the three kids that were sitting there.

After giving the rundown of what she had available, everyone gave their orders. Donna and Kaia chose to share a slice of, what Charlie called, strawberry shortcake, but even he knew that Claire would be trying to steal bites from them. Jody wanted a chocolate éclair, which sounded delicious from the description Charlie gave. Both Jack and Claire asked for cookies for themselves, Jack choosing chocolate chip while Claire chose molasses, neither of which he recognized.

And then there was Cas. He caught Dean’s eye and smiled. “I’ll take a large slice of apple pie, if you don’t mind,” he ordered. Dean didn’t miss the wink that Charlie threw him.

“Coming right up,” she said, turning back to Dean and leading him back to gather the desserts. She grinned at Dean as she looked around her selection for the right treats. “I didn’t know you guys knew Jody and the kids.”

Dean shrugged, smiling. “Yeah, we kind of ran into them accidentally. Jack was hurt and Cas and I helped him out, and Claire immediately liked Sam, so we all just met and became friends. Jody’s also super sweet for letting Claire and Jack keep Sam for a bit, even if it is a bit strange that they call her Ms. Mills. Regardless, they’re lucky to have her as their mother,” Dean explained, grabbing a plate of cookies from Charlie’s hands.

She stilled, looking at him with a confused expression, her eyes wide. “Jack and Claire aren’t her children, Dean,” Charlie said, as if that wasn’t going to knock his world off-balance.

“They’re not?” he asked, because now, he was becoming really confused. Why did she seem to care for them then?

“No, they’re orphans.” At his blank look, Charlie smiled softly. “Any idea what an orphan is?”

Dean couldn’t help but shake his head. Her gaze wasn’t pitying, but it was borderline. He wondered if Charlie somehow knew that he lived in a tower for his whole life, that this was his first time being outside.

“Jody isn’t their mother, because they don’t have parents,” Charlie started, her tone turning sad. “When they were babies, their parents died in a shipwreck, coming home from a business trip. The kids have been left in the care of the orphanage since then, with Jody looking out for them specifically. Anyone who has wanted to adopt them only wanted one or the other, not both, so they haven’t gotten a new family yet.” Charlie gave him a second plate, this one with the slice of cake for Donna and Kaia, before taking the other desserts and started to bring them out.

Dean didn’t know what to say. He felt saddened but also upset for the children. No one should have to do endure that, growing up without at least one parent. “But, they’re great kids! Can’t someone see that both of them are worth it? Jack is a pure ball of bliss who has infectious laughter! Claire is a sweet girl who also knows how to hold her ground and will fight anyone! How could anyone not want both of them?” he asked incredulously, keeping his voice low to not draw attention, even as they displayed the desserts down in front of the group. He didn’t realize that Cas’ smile dropped and turned wary, looking at Dean’s distress. He was too focused on the revelation that Charlie had given him.

“Enjoy your food!” Charlie said cheerily, but he could tell it was forced as she pulled him away from the group, standing against the back wall to talk to him further. Dean’s gaze shot to the two kids, grinning as they bit into their cookies.

“It just doesn’t make sense, Charlie. It’s not fair to them. They deserve someone to love and take care of them,” Dean growled softly, keeping his attention on the kids. They were both so young and full of joy, and they needed parents to show them the same love and joy.

“Well, you and Cas could always adopt them,” Charlie suggested. Dean whipped his head around to face her, his eyes widening at the thought. She just shrugged at him. “What? Just look at Cas with them.”

Dean did what Charlie asked, his words faltering, and his heart melted. Jack was reaching over top of Cas, spreading chocolate on his sister’s face. She was laughing, and playfully swatted at him. Cas rolled his eyes, a smile brightening his face, as he grabbed a napkin and started wiping the chocolate off of Claire. Jack, seeing his opportunity, rubbed chocolate on Cas’ face before dissolving into a giggling fit.

Turning back to Charlie, she shot him a smirk. “See? You guys would be great dads. I know for a fact that you love those kids wholeheartedly. Cas does too.”

Dean’s smile faded, crossing his arms. “That would never work, not because I don’t love the kids, but Cas and I aren’t like that, Charlie. We’re just…” he started, his own heart falling at his words. He didn’t know what they were. But he knew what they had to be. “We’re not together. I only met him a few days ago. We’re only friends.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Only friends? Dean, if Jo looked at me when we first met the way that you guys look at each other, I would’ve married her within an hour, not waited a couple of years,” she said, as if that made his life any easier. She seemed to be searching for something in his gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay with just being friends?”

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again, not knowing what to say. He knew what he wanted and it was more than that. He didn’t dare even think the words, but he knew what he was growing to feel for Cas, and it was definitely more than friendship. Feeling the urge to kiss him and hold his hand as long as he could had assured it in Dean’s mind. But those were wishes of someone who would live a life outside of a tower; someone who would live life as an adventure. That wasn’t Dean.

He shook his head, his gaze dropping. “It doesn’t matter what I want, Charlie. He’s going to be taking me back ho-,” Dean started, his breath hitching on the word. His tower didn’t feel like home anymore, and that thought startled him to his core. When had the tower stopped feeling like home? “He’s taking me home tomorrow, now that the festival is done, and then we’re never going to see each other again. That’s just the way it is.” He knew he sounded defeated, but he couldn’t care less about sounding cheerful.

He expected Charlie to say something, but when she remained silent, Dean looked back at her. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes. He frowned. “Charlie, whatever you’re thinking, don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Charlie grinned at him, grabbing his arm, dragging him towards the group. “You have less than a day to act on your doomed love. I’m just making sure you don’t waste your opportunity.” She essentially shoved Dean towards his friends, causing him to stumble right in front of Cas. “Jimmy, Dean is wondering if you want to go to the gallery with him and myself.”

Cas blinked at him, while Dean tried to smile, righting himself, even as he felt his ears start to redden. “Charlie, what are you doing?” he hissed, trying and failing to be subtle to his friend. Cas still hadn’t said a word, just staring at him, as if waiting for him to say something. Dean suddenly felt self-conscious, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t have to, you know. After all, it’s just an idea and there are-”

“I’d love to go,” Cas interrupted, his voice steady. It was Dean’s turn to blink, slightly stunned. He hadn’t expected Cas to respond.

“Fantastic. I’ll get my stuff together, and then we’ll get going,” Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She turned, winking at Dean, before going to her back room, leaving him to deal with the aftermath.

“Can we go too, Ms. Mills?” Jack asked Jody, his wide eyes pleading. Claire also had a pleading expression on her face. Jody shook her head at the children.

“Sorry Jack, but we’ve got other plans for the day. But we’ll see them again soon, right?” Jody explained, looking to Cas and Dean, hoping for their confirmation.

Dean smiled. “Of course you will. After all, Sam is still going to be hanging out with you guys for the rest of the day, so we’ll definitely see you again,” he reassured.

Jack didn’t look very thrilled, but Claire nodded, giving Sam a small pet on her shoulder before handing him to Dean. He chirped in his hands. Do I even want to know what she is planning?

Dean shook his head. “I don’t even want to know what she’s got planned,” he whispered, trying not to glance at Cas as he spoke. “I’ll come back for you later, okay? Take care of them, Sam.”

He gave the guinea pig back to Claire, as Cas stood up with him, getting ready to go. Don’t do anything too stupid, alright? He squeaked, fixing him with a glare. Dean nodded, smiling at the group.

“You ready to go? This is going to be a blast,” Charlie called from behind him, a new bag slung around her shoulders, a knowing smile on her face. Dean’s eyes narrowed, unaware of her plan, but nodded regardless. Cas seemed ready, so that was good enough for him. Charlie walked out the door, yelling on her way out. “I’ll flip my sign to ‘Closed’. Leave the money behind the counter and I’ll get it in the morning!”

“You’re a saint, Charlie,” Jody called after them, as Dean and Cas followed the redhead out the door. He didn’t know which direction they were going, or once again, what their destination even was. Charlie, on the other hand, exuded confidence, her smile never fading, as she chose a direction, slinging one arm around each of their shoulders, pulling them along with her. They were both forced to lean into her slightly, to accommodate for both he and Cas being relatively tall compared to her.

“So, Cas. Have you ever been to the gallery before?” Charlie asked his friend, tilting her head in his direction, keeping the conversation friendly. Dean didn’t trust it for a second.

“Well, yes and no,” Cas answered sheepishly. Dean was grateful for his and Charlie’s height difference, as he could see right over top of her to look at his friend. He noticed that Cas’ cheeks were flushed a soft pink. Dean hated how cute he found it. “I’ve never been there for any reason other than… business, for lack of a better word. This will be my first time going for pleasure.”

“The first time is always the best!” she exclaimed widely, her eyes dancing. “It’s the first time for you too, right Dean?” Charlie turned her head to face him. Her gaze was innocent enough, but Dean saw the scheme in her eyes, although he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

“Yeah, it’s my first time going,” he responded, not knowing what kind of answer she had been looking for. He saw the moment that Charlie’s scheme was falling into place, when her grin widened. In a blink, she was pulling back away from them suddenly, neither of them prepared, as they stumbled into each other from the force. Cas stumbled harder than Dean did, falling directly into his chest.

Dean grabbed under Cas’ arms, steadying him and pulling him up until they were eye level, trying not to think too hard about how close they were. Those stunningly blue eyes stared at him, and though his brain screamed at him to turn away, to blink, to do anything besides staring at Cas, Dean couldn’t peel his eyes away.

He tried to open his mouth to say something, but his jaw remained shut. His brain was faltering and he was not going to make it, if Charlie kept at this. With one simple interaction, Dean’s heart was off the rails, beating rapidly, those butterflies in his stomach going crazy.

“Then it looks like you two have a lot more in common than you already know. I bet you’d both love to talk about it and be filled with knowledge of each other! I’ll go on ahead and secure places for you guys. See you shortly, bitches!” Charlie stated abruptly. Or maybe it wasn’t abruptly. Maybe it was just the fact that Dean was still holding Cas under his arms, could still feel Cas’ gaze on him as he turned to Charlie to find her running off.

“Was it really your idea to go to the gallery, Dean?” Cas asked, and just like that, Dean broke out of his trance. He released Cas immediately, almost as if burnt, and took a step back, putting some distance between them. This was all just part of Charlie’s plan.

Dean huffed a laugh, rubbing one of his arms. “Well since we’re supposed to be ‘filled with knowledge of each other’, if you had to guess, do you think I know what a gallery is?” he joked, mocking Charlie playfully. Cas laughed, and damn, if that didn’t make Dean’s day.

“The gallery is a display of artistic works that the kingdom has collected over time, with the most popular art style being paintings. However, there are a lot of sculptures as well. Some are just from artists throughout the kingdom that they put up for the people to look at. Others are more famous, from popular creators over the years that the kingdom has bought over time. I believe others are portraits of important people in the kingdom, but I can’t say for sure,” Cas explained. He raised an eyebrow at Dean, the corner of his lip tilting up. “But you knew all this, of course. Based off of your extensive knowledge.”

“Oh yeah. Absolutely. Definitely knew all that,” Dean said, continuing their trek after Charlie, shaking his head. “I swear Charlie is somehow going to be the death of me. All I have to fear are paintings, and watching my back every step I go. She definitely has a plot planned; you know that right?”

Cas shrugged. “She most certainly has something in mind. But I trust her, which is saying a lot considering I met her fairly recently. I’ve seemed to develop that bad habit as of late. Do you know who I might have gotten that from?” he teased, looking anywhere but Dean, a grin overtaking him.

Dean glared, shoving Cas on the shoulder. “It’s not that bad of a habit. From my own experience, it has led to some great friendships, present company excluded.”

Cas’ face softened into something more serious and gentle. “Well, I think that you and I have a pretty great friendship,” he said faintly, his eyes genuine. In a moment though, the grin came back, sharpened. “Who knew that you would be both attractive and a wonderful person too?” With that, Cas ran ahead of him, leaving Dean behind, as if his words hadn’t rocked him to the core.

He sputtered out a few incoherent words of his own, any sensible thought slipping from his grasp. “Wh- But I- Hav- You.” Dean growled, picking up his pace. “Get back here!” He could see Cas chuckle as he continued to run from Dean. He ran after his friend, much less for fear of getting lost in the city which he would’ve thought, but because he desperately needed to know what those words meant. Were they mocking or genuine?

Dean didn’t get a chance to follow up with Cas, much to his dismay, as he saw Cas catch up to Charlie, who was waving excitedly at them. Cas joined in when he was at Charlie’s side, the two of them waving animatedly at him. He tried to ignore the way he felt his ears redden, as he caught up.

“Dean, glad you could make it. How was the run? Did Cas go easy on you?” Charlie asked, her voice the pinnacle of innocence.

Cas snorted. “I did my best to let him win, but in his old age, I don’t think the years have been kind to him, considering he’s turning 25 tomorrow.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re both horrible, you know that, right?”

Charlie gasped, her eyes widening as if someone had given her a puppy. She punched him in the arm. He rubbed it tenderly, as he definitely had a bruise there at this point. “It’s your birthday tomorrow and you didn’t tell me? What kind of friend are you?” she accused, pouting her lip, even if her eyes were light. Cas only smirked at him, the douchebag.

“It’s just another birthday, it’s not too exciting,” Dean muttered. He knew that his words were lies, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want to seem too excited to be here. Cas scoffed, clearly not believing his words. Dean didn’t know if he should be thrilled that Cas knew him so well, or terrified because of it.

Charlie, on the other hand, crossed her arms. “Well, the gallery is a great birthday celebration. Tomorrow, I’ll make you a giant birthday cake and we can all celebrate together, assuming you’re not leaving then.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He was planning on leaving tomorrow, since today was the last day of the festival. He took a glance at Cas, who was staring at him pensively. Their deal was to bring him to the capital and back, but it was his decision in the end, wasn’t it though? He bit his lip. “I wouldn’t mind staying one extra day, if that’s okay with you, Cas?”

A moment passed, before Cas nodded, smiling. “One more day couldn’t hurt,” he replied. Dean tilted his head to the side, as Cas’ voice was slightly lower than normal. Charlie didn’t seem to notice though, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.

She grinned, handing both of them their passes to the gallery. “Alright. How about I leave you two boys to the gallery then so I can start working on that cake, huh? I’ll need to get it perfect for the birthday boy, now don’t I? We’ll have a large celebration and it will be even more popular than the festival.”

It took Dean a moment for Charlie’s words to catch up to him. “Wait, what? Charlie, you-,” he started, but Charlie was already running away, holding two fingers up.

“See you later, bitches!” she yelled, leaving the two of them standing there.

“We don’t have to go to the gallery, you know. It was a dumb idea anyhow,” Dean suggested, toeing the ground beneath his foot, as if they weren’t already there, standing in front of the doorway.

“So you don’t want to go to the gallery with me? You think it’s a dumb idea?” Cas asked, his tone almost sounded sad.

Dean’s gaze shot up, his eyes widening. “What? No, of course not!” he sputtered. When Cas’ eyes dimmed, Dean tried to dig himself further out of his hole, immediately regretting his words. “I mean, no, going with you is a good idea. It’s a good idea, maybe a great idea. Doing just about anything with you is a good idea. We can go to the gallery if you want. I just meant going to the gallery wasn’t necessarily what you wanted to do and I kind of just went along with Charlie’s plan and now I don’t know what you want to do and-”

“Dean.”

“Yes?”

“I know what you mean,” Cas said, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Sorry,” he apologized, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. He felt a hand on his arm, stopping him mid-motion. Cas put his arm down, putting it back at his side.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Dean. I’m still happy to go to the gallery with you. I actually have been meaning to go there at some point in time and take a look around.” Cas rubbed a thumb over his arm, still holding it.

Dean gulped. “Uh. Okay. Sure. Let’s go to the gallery then,” he sputtered out, his brain short-circuiting with Cas still holding him. He didn’t know what else to say.

If Dean’s brain was stalling for words before, it completely failed as Cas slid his grip from Dean’s arm to his hand, giving him a sweet smile while intertwining their fingers, tugging him along inside. He followed wordlessly.

The lobby of the gallery was quite simple, with a woman sitting behind a desk, dividing the room into two pathways. Cas showed the woman his pass, Dean doing the same, following his friend’s example. She nodded at them, going back to the work in front of her. “Enjoy your day!” she called.

Cas still didn’t let go of Dean’s hand as he took one of the two hallways.

He followed behind Cas, not knowing where he was taking him. Dean looked up at a sign over the pathway they were taking. He read Famous Works and that was fascinating to him. He doubted he would be able to tell if something was famous compared to a regular piece of work but it was interesting nonetheless.

They ended up spending a couple of hours looking at the masterpieces. Cas pointed out the ones that he liked the most. Each was quite beautiful. Some made no sense to him, but Cas would try and explain the meaning. Others were sceneries, just gorgeous landscapes that left Dean with a sense of yearning. He still wanted to see the rest of the world, but on this trip, at least he had had the chance to see the capital.

Cas particularly enjoyed a painting of a large meadow, with lots of flowers blooming. He named each of the types of flowers on the portrait and Dean smiled as he listened. He loved hearing Cas talk about the plants. In his mind, he could just picture Cas in a garden of his own, tending to vegetables and flowers. He would watch the bees and other insects, and Dean would be there, leaning over the fence, smiling all the while –

Dean stopped that train of thought before it got any further, knowing that if he dwelled on it, he would get deeper in this than he already was. He was already past the point of no return, but he didn’t need to fall harder. That would only break his heart more so.

They continued down the final hall of the gallery, titled History of Lawrence and intrigued him.

“Is there anything in particular you would like to see?” Cas asked, slowing down their pace as they had to choose their next direction. Dean looked over the signs above each of the pathways. If there was one thing he was thankful for in the gallery so far, he was glad that they labelled each direction, even if there were only two to choose from. Looking at the signs, he was curious about both of them.

Local Artists was an interesting hall that he wanted to see soon. Dean found it cool that they had a section dedicated to the artists of the kingdom who created pieces. He felt it respected the people, honoring them and keeping them important to the kingdom. He remembered Cas had mentioned something about the local artists earlier, so he was excited to see it at some point.

The Royal Family was the one that caught his eye though. Maybe he and Cas could continue their conversation from the library, and he could learn more about the history.

Dean pulled Cas along with him, choosing The Royal Family. “So you’re probably going to have to explain most of these to me. Considering I only know what you told me of their history, I’m going to need some help.” He looked to Cas, hoping he was okay with that.

“Of course. Most of the paintings have descriptions underneath them, but I can tell you the history as we go along,” Cas said. He pointed somewhere in front of them and Dean’s eyes followed.

“Oh,” was all Dean could say as he took in the room around him. He didn’t know what professional paintings looked like, considering he had only drawings in books to go off of previously, but this was amazing. His father had never appreciated any form of art. He would get upset at Dean for practicing painting at all, so he hadn’t got a chance to develop any skills.

This though. This was amazing. He knew that the pieces on the wall were done through paint or similar materials, but they looked so real. He genuinely believed that the people on the wall were there with him. He could only imagine the time and talent it took to create even one of these, let alone the whole room. It was incredible.

The painting that Cas had been pointing at was the castle. It seemed to be ancient. The artist had depicted it with a beautiful sky in the background. It was quite majestic. “I almost stole this one years ago. It was one of the first depictions of the kingdom, when they had built the castle. The kingdom had barely come into fruition yet. From what I remember, it was created to show the history behind the capital, but also, it gave the citizens hope. They saw where their roots came from and how we’ve grown since we first became a kingdom,” Cas explained.

Dean smiled thoughtfully, almost laughing. “I can see why you would’ve wanted to steal this one. Not necessarily actual value, but value to the people.” They continued on their tour, Cas pointing out various paintings as they went along. It was thrilling to Dean, learning more and more as they went on.

“Who is this?” Dean asked, seeing a painting of one man. He looked saddened in the picture, his smile looking forced and frail. He looked fairly young in the portrait, a few years older than Cas perhaps, and Dean was curious what made a man so sad at a young age.

“That was King Henry. Given the date that the painting was made, I think this was just after his wife, Queen Millie, passed away. She got injured after an attack on the palace and was unable to recover. Prince John was still a child, but he had been away for the summer visiting a cousin. He didn’t receive the news until a few weeks later. The king was forced to deal with his wife’s death by himself and continue running the kingdom.”

Dean’s nose curled in disgust. “Why would someone want to paint that? Why did he let them paint him like that? If I lost the love of my life, I wouldn’t be willing to pose for a painting. Hell, I’d be devastated and probably be sobbing uncontrollably,” he stated. His eyes flickered quickly to Cas as he said the words before looking back at the painting.

Cas sighed. “I’m not too sure why he did the painting. Perhaps it was a new chapter in the life of the kingdom, without the Queen, so they wished to capture the new era. Regardless, it seems wrong to portray King Henry like this, I agree.”

Cas led him further in the room, but the sadness on the king’s face kept coming back to Dean, haunting him as they walked. He couldn’t begin to imagine that pain. But also, having to tell that to his son? That would be awful.

“This is one of the most recent portraits of the royal family, Dean. This is King John, Queen Mary, and their son, Prince Henry,” Cas explained, gaining Dean’s attention. He blinked at the portrait. It was a stark contrast to the one of the king.

King John had dark hair, cut close around his head, a stern face, but kind eyes. He had creases around them from laughing, even though in the portrait, his expression was neutral. Queen Mary had long blonde hair, her smile lighting up her face. She was beautiful, beaming down at her son. Dean felt a sense of familiarity seeing her. She reminded him of the woman who would sing to him when he was hurt, if only the blonde hair was enough to make someone familiar.

Finally, Dean drew his gaze to the young prince. The boy had messy hair, flopping around his face. He had a giant grin plastered on his face, as he was held between his parents. His green eyes were captivating, even through the painting. Dean recognized that he had green eyes as well, and wondered if his eyes looked similar when he was a child.

“How is the royal family now?” Dean asked, wondering if they were still as cheerful as they seemed to be in this portrayal. Cas shrugged, a frown forming on his face.

“To be perfectly honest, I am unsure. Neither the king nor the queen was the same after their son died. They tried their best for the people, but to lose your only child at such a young age. It changes you.”

Dean’s heart went out to the rulers of the kingdom. However, what concerned him more was Cas. When Dean looked at him, he was staring at the painting wistfully, pain in his gaze. His tone as he had explained had been dreary. There was something he wasn’t telling him. “Did- Did you know the prince?” Dean asked, not wanting to be rude, but his curiosity getting the better of him.

Cas smiled, but it was filled with sadness. “I did. Many, many years ago. I was 6 years old when I first met him. One day, I got in trouble with my brothers and ran away. Somehow, I accidentally managed to find my way onto the castle grounds. I wandered into the kitchen, stole a cookie, and hid in a cupboard, hiding from my brothers, not even worrying about any staff that might come around. However, my crunching was not very silent apparently, as the door swung opened and I came face-to-face with the prince. I was certain he was going to tell on me, but instead, he grabbed a cookie of his own and joined me in the cupboard.”

Dean didn’t know what to do. He was listening intently, but he felt like he should comfort Cas somehow, even if so far, it seemed like a fond memory. “I saw him quite frequently afterwards. Whenever I could, I’d sneak into the castle and spend time with Henry. His large grin would always bring me joy, even if I was having a rough day. He’d call “Castiel” and I was immediately feeling better. He was the best friend I had ever had, and his friendship was everything to me.”

Cas’ tone turned quieter and he shrugged, as if it was nothing, but even Dean could see the pain on his face. Trying to think of what Cas would do in his place, Dean placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, hoping it was comforting, as he was still unfamiliar with so much physical contact. Cas leaned into the touch. “Gabriel was the only one who knew I would sneak out to meet Henry, as Michael or Lucifer would be furious. One day though, when I was going to leave, my brother stopped me and pulled me into a hug, which was quite unusual for him. I asked what was the matter and he explained that there had been an accident in the castle. A fire had started in the prince’s room, and though the king’s advisor tried to save him, both were lost to the fire.

“It broke my heart, learning he had died. I don’t think I even spoke to my brothers for a couple of weeks, just trying to process. It was as if this constant joy in my life was gone and I would never recover.” Cas sighed, wrapping his arms around his chest. Dean rubbed his hand up and down Cas’ arm, doing his best to comfort the man. “I was only a child, but I loved him as much as anyone can love at that age, just like Claire loves Kaia. He was my first love, and yet, he was gone just like that. I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.”

Dean pulled Cas into a hug, rubbing gentle circles into his back. He felt Cas’ chest heave against him. “Some days, I feel like he had only been a hopeful dream. But then, I see paintings of him or I hear people talk about Prince Henry and I know that he was real. Our friendship had been real,” Cas murmured, the words becoming softer. He let out a puff of laughter, bitter and dry. “It’s been 20 years, and yet I still miss him, Dean. It’s pathetic.”

Dean pulled Cas back to look into his eyes. He looked so vulnerable compared to the man that Dean had come to know in the past few days, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Dean swiped his thumb across Cas’ cheek. “By no means is it pathetic, Cas. Love is love. I don’t have much experience with it, but I know that we can’t control what we feel. It didn’t end how you wanted, and by all means, I wish that I could change that for you. But the prince is a part of you, alright? And that alone makes him important. Don’t ever think otherwise,” Dean assured softly, his heart breaking for the man in front of him.

Cas nodded, not looking like he believed the words, but still listening to Dean nonetheless. He wrapped his arms around Dean, burying his face in his neck. Dean only tightened their embrace, pressing a very chaste kiss into his hair, hoping Cas could feel through his actions that he was still loved today, even if Dean would never be able to admit such a thing aloud. He did his best to comfort him, not knowing how he had lived 20 years loving someone who had died. It made him wonder how he would be able to continue on with his own life after they parted ways, never to see Cas again.

Slowly, Cas’ breathing evened out. Dean still held onto him as he seemed to calm down and collect himself, not that Dean minded holding him. After a little bit, Cas was ready to get back to their tour, unwrapping himself from Dean.

“You probably think I’m some sort of hopeless romantic now, don’t you?” Cas asked him, the words coming out in a laugh.

Dean merely tilted his head to the side, smiling at him. “I think I just love learning more about you; the good and the bad,” he admitted. His brain was screaming at him to shut up before he said too much, but his heart was telling him that now was a good time to be honest.

Dean didn’t miss the light flush that grew on Cas’ cheeks, the pink a nice contrast to his usual tan self. “Thank you, Dean.” He grabbed Dean’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

Dean squeezed back. “Anything you need Cas.”

He smiled. “Well, I think I’ve officially ruined our tour,” Cas announced as he turned, still holding onto Dean’s hand.

He waved his free hand, brushing the comment off. “Nah, I actually enjoy hearing from personal experience. It makes it more true for me that this is all still real. Although, I am curious about the advisor you had mentioned who was with the prince, if you don’t mind my asking,” Dean said, not wishing to push Cas more than he was comfortable.

“I think there might actually be a picture of him, if I recall from my last job here. Come with me,” Cas responded determinedly. Dean could see his laser focus back on the history lesson, glad that he could distract Cas once again. Just as before, Cas linked their fingers together, pulling him along with him.

They stopped in front of a painting of an older gentleman, his hairs greying, the wrinkles on his face defined. Cas frowned at the painting, his eyebrows furrowing. “I guess it was only of his mentor, not the advisor himself. His name was Joshua. When I was telling you about the man who saved the queen back in the library, this was who I was talking about. It was said he was like an angel, finding some miracle remedy to heal the queen when she was sick with the prince,” Cas explained.

“He had an associate with him, according to my brother. I believe his name was Metatron. If I recall anything from history, he arrived with Joshua when he healed the queen. After Joshua died shortly after, Metatron became the king’s advisor for having taken part in saving the queen’s life. He tried to save Henry from the fire, only to be taken himself.”

Dean eyed him curiously, his voice suggesting more. “But?”

His voice lowered, as if this was not something he should be sharing. “But my brother remembered differently. His version was less cordial. He believed that Joshua was actually an angel, with the ability to perform miracles. Metatron was supposed to inherit his powers when he was ready, as Joshua was growing old and didn’t have much left. However, Joshua heard of Queen Mary’s ailment and used the last of his power to save her.”

Dean didn’t understand how this version was less friendly. “Gabriel told me that Metatron became the king’s advisor, but when the king had his back turned, the man would grumble about the world. He was harsh, loving to hear himself speak, and was only kind when the world suited him, for he did not inherit any powers because of Joshua’s compassion,” Cas continued. He snorted. “My brother used to joke that Metatron stole the prince out of revenge and started the fire to cover his tracks, hoping it would make me feel better that Henry had lived. I almost wished for that, but I knew it wasn’t the truth. It was just my way of imagining he had made it out alive.”

“Which version of the advisor do you believe?” Dean asked. He didn’t know why it was important to him.

Cas pondered the question, hesitating for an answer. “I’d rather believe the public opinion. I think he sounds better as a kind old man, someone who tried to save Henry. But I know my brother. He was a trickster through and through, but I knew when he was being serious. He firmly believed that Metatron hadn’t been a good man, and I trusted Gabriel’s words. So, unfortunately, that’s the version I stick to,” he admitted to Dean. “How about you? Which do you think sounds more real?”

It was Dean’s turn to think about the question. He really didn’t know which one he believed, but he knew which he wanted to. He shrugged, embarrassed. “Not that I was there to experience it, but would it be bad if I wanted to believe your brother’s version, just so I could say that angels are real? Something I was taught turning out to be true?”

“Of course not. In this version, you have real angels and I have a living prince. I think it’s a win for both of us,” Cas said. Dean wanted to smile at Cas joking with him, but his tone was still laced with bitterness.

Dean clapped his hand on Cas’ shoulder, trying to pull him from falling back down into that spiral. “Come on. I think we should be heading back. Otherwise, we’re going to miss the rest of the festival. Besides,” he drawled. “I want to get out of this monkey suit and back into my normal outfit.”

Cas gave him an unclear look, his eyebrow raised and eyes narrowed. “Monkey suit? Why would that be considered a monkey suit?”

“I uh-. Well, it. You see,” Dean stammered. Cas was still staring at him with that same expression, that same unreadable face that made Dean feel like Cas was searching his soul for answers; that made his heart jump and stutter.

He really didn’t have a logical explanation for the term he used. Anytime his father had worn something fancy, that was what Dean had called it ever since he was a kid. Even if he did have a reason behind it, he wouldn’t have been able to give one to Cas in his current state. He felt his cheeks warming and looked away, unable to hold Cas’ stare.

“Well, regardless of your reasoning, I agree. Let’s go get rid of these ‘monkey suits’” Cas announced, using his fingers to emphasize the strange phrase. Dean found it oddly endearing, even if he knew he was being mocked.

Cas pulled Dean along with him, leading them to exit the gallery. He didn’t think he would ever be tired of holding Cas’ hand, their fingers still interlocked. He was going to have thank Charlie immensely for her plan to get the two of them to spend time together.

As they made their way back to the inn, Dean realized that the sun was setting. He didn’t know how they had spent the entire day at the gallery. Logically, he remembered hours going by. He knew how much time they spent looking at the artworks. But at the same time, he felt as if no time had passed at all. It was crazy how quickly his time with Cas was going. Walking back, he realized he never wanted it to end.

Chapter Text

Donna was back at the front desk of the inn when they arrived. She grinned when she saw them, placing her hands on her hips. Dean didn’t notice her eyes flick down to their intertwined fingers, or the way her smile widened slightly, before she looked back down at her paperwork. “Good to see you boys back! Did you have fun at the gallery?” she asked, her grin infectious.

“It was awesome,” Dean said, smiling at her. He had a wonderful time learning more about the history of the kingdom through the art, but also Cas’ own past. “Is there anything else left to the festival? I didn’t realize we were going to be out so long.”

She looked at the two of them, her eyes glittering. “Oh yeah. The best part is the f-,”

“The festival, in general, which Dean already knew,” Cas interrupted, cutting off her words. He shot her a look, causing Donna to shut her mouth entirely, a smirk playing at her lips, which just confused Dean.

He looked between the two of them, as they both shared a knowing look. “What did I miss?” he asked hesitantly, his confusion growing by the second. Cas just pulled him along, walking past Donna up the stairs, ignoring the question entirely.

“Have fun tonight you two! Don’t stay out too late!” Donna called after them, her voice mischievous. Dean still followed behind Cas, letting him lead the way up the stairs, but he was no closer to understanding.

“Seriously though. What was that?” Dean asked, as they were walking down the hall to their room in the attic.

“It was nothing. Really. Donna seemed to forget that you had been at the festival all day too,” Cas replied, climbing the final set of stairs. Dean didn’t believe him for a second.

Their room was the same as they had left it. Both of their outfits were hanging over the chairs, waiting for them.

Dean walked to his clothes, finding them all dry and ready to wear again. He gave a sigh in relief. He liked the outfit that Donna had leant to him, but he enjoyed his familiar clothing. “Yours dry too?” he asked, turning to Cas, who was checking over his own stuff.

“It appears it is. Let’s get changed, go get something to eat, and then we’ll get going,” Cas suggested, starting to unbutton his tunic as he faced the wall.

Dean immediately turned away, not wanting to re-enact last time. He refused to be caught checking out Cas changing. His ears started to burn just at the memory from the morning.

He pulled off his own clothes, placing them on the chair, and replaced them with his outfit from the tower; the well-worn fabric he was used to fitting perfectly once again. The borrowed clothing from Donna was soft and plush, which he appreciated, but his normal clothing was familiar and comfortable. Grabbing the amulet that he had stashed away, he shoved it into his pocket, not knowing when or how, but he would give it to Cas later. “I’m ready whenever you are,” Dean said to the room, keeping his eyes on the wall.

“Just give me one moment," Cas replied. Dean waited patiently, as he heard some type of stretching material or something. He was confused to say the least, but didn’t question what Cas was doing. “Alright, you may turn around now.” Dean turned, his heart lightening as he saw Cas in his vest again, with the flower crown back on his head. Somehow, he already associated the vest and shirt combo with Cas, and it was normal to see him like that.

Dean shook his head, clearing his thoughts away from how normal Cas felt. “So. What are we having for dinner?”

Cas held up his hand. “Actually, before we go, I have a gift for you, Dean,” Cas announced, searching through his things. To say Dean was curious would be an understatement. He sat down on the chair, waiting to see what Cas had. What was a gift, and why was it for him?

When Cas pulled out a small box wrapped in a ribbon and held it out, Dean’s eyes narrowed as he grabbed it. It was pretty, but what was the point? It was a decorated box?

“Um, thanks?” he said, still not understanding the purpose. Dean continued to stare at the box. A minute passed, maybe two of awkward silence, until Cas cleared his throat.

“Dean, would you like me to enlighten you as to what a gift is?” he asked Dean, a tinge of humor in his tone.

Dean breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. I have no idea what this is, or why you gave it to me.”

Cas grabbed Dean’s hands, leading the two of them to sit on the bed, side by side. This somehow felt a lot more intimate than it had been minutes before. “A gift is essentially a token of appreciation from one person to another. A lot of the time, people give them to one another on special occasions, like a birthday or a holiday. Other times, it is just to show someone that you value and cherish them,” Cas explained.

Dean looked from the small box in his hands, back up to Cas. “So, I take it this is for my birthday then?” he asked, trying to get a grasp on the concept.

Cas’ cheeks turned a soft pink. “Well, yes, and no. Your birthday is tomorrow, so it is a birthday gift. However, my primary reason was just to show my admiration for you, Dean, and that I appreciate you.”

“Oh,” was the only word that formed as his face flushed, because Cas got him something just to show that he appreciated him. He tried to say something else, but his brain couldn’t get over the fact that Cas wanted to give something to him for no other reason than to show he enjoyed having Dean around. Dean, whose father told him that Cas was only there to manipulate him. Dean, who hit the man over the head with a frying pan. Dean, who could rarely see his self-worth.

“Would you care to open it?” Cas asked, looking at Dean intently. He nodded, still unable to say more. Carefully, Dean pulled at the bow, now knowing it was supposed to open and not just for display, and lifted the cover of the box. Inside, sitting in a small cushion, was a beautiful ring. It didn’t seem too flashy, as he liked the subtlety, but also unique enough that Dean thoroughly loved it.

“Cas, this is for me?” Dean asked, awe in his voice. His father had never taken the time to get him something, or a gift, as Cas called it. He had told him a story or two about his past, but he never went out of his way to give something to Dean. To receive this from Cas was enough to throw Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas gave a small nod, biting his lip.

“Do you like it? I was unsure if it was your style or your size, but when it was shown to me, it reminded me of you and I thought it was a good idea.”

“It’s lovely, Cas,” he replied, meaning it entirely. He picked up the ring, noticing a little latch at the top. “What’s with this?”

“The shop owner told me it is mainly used to store something of importance to the recipient. He said that some people like to have a small portion of a poison for emergencies, or something along those lines. However, it isn’t necessary for you to put something in there if you don’t wish to,” Cas explained.

Dean thought about it. What could he put in there that was important? He didn’t own much, or if he did, it wasn’t too important that he wanted a reminder of it.

Concluding that it needed to be useful as opposed to something he might want in time, Dean smiled. “You got anything sharp on you?” Dean asked nonchalantly, laughing as Cas’ face scrunched up into a frown.

“I have a blade with me, yes, but why do you require it?” Cas replied, as Dean watched him lean over to the chair with his supplies on it, grabbing a small silvery blade from his bag. It would do.

“Well, what better to have available to me than some healing blood? Sometimes, if I heal too much in a short amount of time, my energy levels die on me. However, my blood does the exact same job as my powers do, just without the same amount of energy wasted,” Dean explained.

He hadn’t had to give blood to his father in a very long time, thankfully. He was still a child when he needed to last, as he was still beginning to learn his powers and used too much energy, trying to heal him as his father came home with a broken nose. His father, still wanting Dean to learn but needing a remedy, had made a small cut on Dean’s hand and sampled the blood, which healed him instantly.

However, if Dean could avoid doing that again, it would be most pleasant. What better than having some blood available at the waiting, just in case? Cas looked a bit skeptical, but still handed Dean the blade. He took it, trading it with Cas for the ring, and before he could second guess himself, made a quick slice across his palm, only wincing slightly, watching as blood welled up.

“Can you open the latch?” he asked Cas, cradling his hand. He nodded, opening the small contraption. Dean leaned his hand over top, squeezing some of his blood into the ring, before Cas shut it tight again.

Dean smiled at Cas’ face of disgust, eyeing his bleeding palm with disdain. “What? You don’t like seeing blood?” he teased, wriggling his fingers, making more blood flow.

“Does it not hurt?” Cas asked, still looking at Dean’s hand like it was some type of mystery. Sure, it didn’t feel great cutting into his hand, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to the pain. After the years of learning how to heal his own injuries, pain like that was a constant, so he didn’t think too much of it.

He shrugged, keeping that to himself though. “Barely felt a thing,” he said instead, being the outwardly image of confidence. Concentrating slightly, he healed his hand, watching Cas as he did so, who couldn’t seem to stop staring. Dean wriggled his fingers in front of his friend’s face, the cut gone from his palm, grinning. “See? Nothing to it.”

“Fascinating,” Cas muttered, looking like he was talking to himself, still staring at his palm. Dean suddenly felt self-conscious, even if it was just his hand that Cas was looking at.

“So,” he said, louder than necessary, breaking Cas out of whatever trance he had been in. Dean held out his hand, winking at Cas for extra measure. “Should we see if it fits?”

Cas blinked a couple of times, while Dean awkwardly kept his hand held out. “Yes, Let’s do that,” he replied, still seeming not quite there. Dean didn’t ask as Cas picked up the ring and slid it slowly onto his finger, fitting perfectly.

Dean whistled, leaving his hand still in Cas’. “Well, I’ll be damned, Cas. You really know how to choose a gift, don’t you?” He chuckled, looking at the ring on his hand. He actually rather enjoyed the look of it. The blood in it seemed to make the little star pop a little, whereas before it was black, now it seemed to be a dark red.

He grinned, meeting Cas’ eyes, only to find them already staring back at him. Dean blinked, the intensity of his gaze making him flush. However, he couldn’t seem to turn away from the look either, especially when he felt Cas’ thumb brush over his knuckles. “Um… thanks for the gift,” Dean managed to say. He gave Cas’ hand a squeeze, his stomach alight with those damn butterflies, before Cas squeezed back.

“Anything I can offer, it is yours,” Cas replied, his voice low. Dean only swallowed, his heart not wanting to turn away, while his brain screamed to get out while he still could, if at all.

Feeling his tongue like lead in his mouth, Dean worked his jaw open. “We should – we should get going,” he said, still staring at Cas like his life was dependent on it.

Cas nodded. “Yes, we should.” Even after giving his agreement, he seemed to give no inclination that he wished to move.

Though completely reluctant, Dean slowly stood, still grasping Cas’ hand, pulling him up along with him. He forced out a laugh, trying to ease his rapidly-beating heart, as well as the palpable tension between them. “Come on. Let’s go get that dinner like we were supposed to earlier before I decide to eat you.”

Cas blinked, before he chuckled. “I don’t believe I would be a very delicious meal for you, Dean.” He let go of Dean’s hand, leading the way down the stairs, as if nothing had happened. Dean breathed out a small breath, one he hadn’t realized he had been holding, staying where he was to regain his thoughts.

He rubbed his hands through his hair, scrubbing his face, trying to get a hold of himself. He felt like a jumbled mess of emotion, one becoming more and more prominent each moment he spent with Cas; one which he still refused to name even if he knew exactly what it was. God, how was he going to go back to his old life tomorrow?

“Dean, are you coming?” he heard Cas call from down the stairs, and he closed his eyes, refocusing himself as he forced his emotions down, not dwelling on them.

“Right behind you,” he replied, plastering on his mask of self-control, as he walked down the stairs, only to be greeted by Cas’ grin. He couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face in response, before tampering it down and reigning himself in.

Dean couldn’t let them get into that situation again, just he and Cas dwelling in each other’s company. It was hard enough to pull out this time. If Dean was left to listen to his brain or his heart once more, he wasn’t sure which he would choose. And didn’t that scare him more than anything?

Chapter Text

Dean let Cas lead him through the streets. The sun was just below the horizon now and the bustle of activity was quite vibrant. There were a lot more people out than Dean had thought there would be. Cas still refused to tell him what was going on tonight. He didn’t even get to overhear anyone’s conversation, because if they started to reveal too much, Cas would begin talking over them.

He was shocked to say the least when Cas led them to a small boat attached to the dock, a lantern attached to the end to provide a little bit of light. Dean sent him a small smirk. “Not planning on throwing me overboard at any point tonight, are you, Cas?”

Cas rolled his eyes, even as he smiled. “If I was planning on drowning you, that would have happened earlier. Now, I just want you to enjoy the last surprise of the festival,” Cas joked, as he stepped into the boat. He held out his hand for Dean, who graciously accepted, as he didn’t think he’d be able to get in by himself.

He only stumbled slightly trying to balance, but Cas steadied him. Dean smiled lightly, grateful it was mainly dark, so Cas couldn’t see his embarrassment. He slowly made his way to the other side of the boat, sitting down and looking out into the water. As Cas slowly pushed them out into the water, putting the boat’s stick in the water and gliding them along, Dean internally cursed himself for not knowing the right words for the action or even the name of the strange stick.

When they got to the middle of the lake, Cas stopped, leaving them silently floating in the water, waiting for whatever the surprise was. Dean sighed in the stillness, his thoughts overtaking him as he reminisced.

How had he only met Cas days ago? He felt as if he had known him his whole life. Since their meeting, Dean felt like he had the time of his life, and that was breaking him apart. How was he going to go back to his tower and leave Cas behind? Was he just supposed to forget about him? He truly didn’t think he could ever forget him. But regardless of what he did, tomorrow would be so much more painful than he had ever intended.

What would his father say when he returned to the tower? Would he smirk at Dean and say he knew he’d back? Would he pretend nothing had ever happened, just move on? Would he allow Dean to leave again, maybe come see the city again from time to time now that he had done it once? He hoped so, but he didn’t know for sure. All in all though, he felt like his life was going to somehow come crashing down around him.

Dean didn’t even realize Cas had been talking before a hand landed on his arm, startling him. He turned his head to Cas, who was doing that stupidly cute head tilt of his, staring at Dean with more concern than he deserved. “Dean, are you alright?”

He laughed; the sound hollow to his own ears. “I’m terrified,” he whispered, shrugging his arm out of Cas’ grip. He tried not to notice how Cas’ eyes dimmed with the action.

“Why?” The one-word question was so simple, and yet it held the weight of everything in its answer.

“Because Cas. Tomorrow is my 25^th birthday. I lived in a tower up until meeting you, never once had I stepped foot outside. I’ve learned so much and grown close to people and I’m just expected to go back to my life as if nothing ever happened? How do I do that, huh?” Dean recognized he was starting to raise his voice, but he didn’t stop. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling exasperated.

“Up until this point, I was living what I thought to be a perfectly normal life, believing in monsters and others creatures, where the one thing I wanted more anything was to leave my tower and see the city. Now that’s done and I’m not the same person I was when I left. What do I do now? Just move on and be satisfied with my life without y… everything?” He barely caught himself from saying you.

“Well, that’s the good thing about achieving your dream. You get to go and find a new one, I suppose,” Cas responded, sounding less than happy with his own response.

Dean glared at him accusingly. “What about you? Are you just going to go back to stealing from people like before? Going to run back to your brothers and continue on?”

“No.” Cas answered so quickly with such determination that it genuinely stunned Dean. He just stared, frozen. He apparently did a poor job at hiding his reaction to the passion in Cas’ eyes though, because he immediately softened. “No, I am not planning on returning to my brothers. I don’t know what I will be doing. Perhaps touring the world, going to see everything it has to offer.”

Dean turned his gaze back to the water, his passion fizzling out, leaning his arms on the side of the boat. “Well, that makes one of us,” he muttered quietly.

Neither said a word, the quiet of the night enveloping them. Dean didn’t know how much time passed in the silence before Cas broke it. “I wouldn’t mind having a partner to see it with me,” Cas said into the quiet. Dean whipped his gaze to Cas, who was fiddling with one of the buttons on his vest. “After our time together, it’s only fitting that I should wish to continue with you. I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Dean just blinked, trying to understand. “You what?”

“I mean, I understand we have our deal, and if you wish, I will still bring you back to the tower. However, if that is not what you wish, I thought…” Cas continued, looking at Dean quickly, before darting his eyes away. “You don’t have to come up with an answer now. I know it’s sudden and that we haven’t known each other terribly long. But I think it would be a good idea, if you don’t mind hanging around with me for longer. Just think about it perhaps?”

He swallowed, not remembering how to breathe. Cas was offering for Dean to continue with him, to see the world together. He felt his heart squeeze. Could he do that? Could he really leave with Cas, leave behind everything, and go see the world? The cautious voice in his head said no, but every other part of him screamed yes. He wouldn’t have to leave Cas, the very possibility bringing Dean much more joy than he imagined. Would he be able to leave his father though? Maybe if they stopped by quickly and said goodbyes, he could do it.

“I’ll- I’ll think about it,” Dean stammered out, giving a response as if he weren’t already trying to figure out just how they could pull this off. Even in the dark, Cas’ smile was bright as he nodded, and it made Dean feel a stunning warmth inside. He scooted closer to him, closing their space together.

“It looks as if the surprise is coming up,” Cas said, directing the conversation elsewhere, pointing out into the sky.

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by a light erupting into the sky. He glanced at Cas who had a small smile playing at his lips, looking at the same light. Dean followed the light as it shot into the sky, his gaze travelling upwards. As it got high into the sky, it suddenly exploded into a bright flash of colour and it was truly beautiful.

A resounding boom echoed in his ears suddenly, shaking him to his core, scaring him entirely. “Shit!” Dean yelled, jumping out of his seat, falling right into Cas’ chest, arms flailing. His heart was racing, not knowing where the sound came from, as he tried to steady his breathing.

He felt Cas chuckle against his back, vibrating through him. He looked up to see Cas smiling softly at him, enclosing Dean in his arms, holding him closely. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the scary noise,” Cas teased, rubbing his arm with one of his hands.

“Shut up,” Dean growled, pouting his lip, squirming slightly but he made no efforts to escape from Cas’ embrace. He watched as another light shot into the sky, this one a different colour from the first. Where the first one had been yellow, this one was red. He couldn’t help the small gasp of awe as it exploded, lighting up the night sky, sparkling.

Another loud thunder crack tore through into his ears. He flinched back again, slightly burying his head into the protection of Cas’ arms, though he’d never admit that to anyone, not even himself. Cas only tightened his hold on him. “What is that sound?” Dean asked, still hearing the echo rattle through his head. He couldn’t tell if he was yelling or not.

“It’s part of the fireworks. When they explode into the air, the boom follows. I admit, I probably should’ve mentioned that ahead of time, but it would’ve ruined the surprise,” Cas explained, sounding embarrassed.

Dean just hummed in his throat, trying to understand. As another light shot into the sky, firework as Cas had called it, he was prepared for the noise. The explosion this time was a bright green, with a strange whistling sound as it shot up into the sky.

The boom wasn’t quite as jarring this time, but it still startled him slightly. He just nestled further in Cas’ hug, clinging to his possible last moments holding onto his friend, assuming he went back to his tower tomorrow. Cas laid his chin on Dean’s head, and they continued watching together in silence, the sudden bursts of noise from the fireworks being the only sounds in the night.

The scene was truly gorgeous, and he was so glad Cas had given him this surprise. He had never experienced anything like this in his whole life. He had sometimes imagined that he saw bright lights coming from his window in the tower, but they were always much too far off to see anything clearly. Now though, Dean was honestly glad he had never gotten to see them from his window, if only to experience them for the first time here with Cas.

He realized with a start what truly made the moment special to him. He was thrilled with the fireworks, but sitting there on the boat, being wrapped in Cas’ arms and seeing the bright flashes of light with him – that was what really made his heart full of joy.

Looking back, that was the theme throughout his adventure in the capital. Going to the library was wonderful to learn about history, but it had been Cas reading the events that made it memorable, or how he tickled Dean and nearly gave themselves away in the process. Charlie and her bakery were delightful - so was pie - but feeding it to Cas and seeing his reaction meant the world to Dean. Visiting the gallery and seeing all the art left him awestruck, but it was Cas’ detailed explanations of the works of art and the passion in his voice that stole his breath away.

Dean looked back on the warmth in his chest when he thought about Cas’ laugh, his little head tilt, the way he crinkled his eyebrows at Dean’s jokes, the passion he had when talking about plants and bees. He thought about Cas’ love for Jack and Claire, his concern and care for the people around him, even if he couldn’t always show it because he was a thief, how he just wanted to live a normal life and how Dean wanted to do that with him.

Realizing truly how much Cas meant to him, Dean finally put a name to that emotion that had been slowly worming its way into his life over the course of their journey together – love.

“Cas,” Dean whispered in between the ruckus of the fireworks, as his heart came up with its decision to his offer.

“Yes Dean?” Cas asked, still watching the light show.

Dean swallowed, his words getting lodged in his throat. “I- I want to go with you and see the world.”

Chapter Text

Castiel tilted his head down, pulling Dean back a little to look at him, as if he didn’t just shift his world upside-down with those words. He was pretty sure his heart stopped. The fireworks slowly faded in the background as all his attention was on Dean. He said he wanted to come with Castiel. He wanted to see the world together.

“Really?” he breathed out, because that was the only word his brain could come up with. He wanted to shout for joy, twirl Dean around, quite possibly kiss him. But instead, he kept his composure, making sure Dean was positive.

“Yes. Yes, I would love to go with you,” Dean replied, looking at up with him, his signature grin replaced with a soft smile, the sincerity in his eyes overwhelming. Castiel didn’t think his heart could swell any further.

He grinned at Dean, pulling him back against him, closing his eyes in utter delight, not being able to contain the smile that spread across his face. Dean was coming with Castiel. It felt too good to be true.

“Ok. I like that plan,” Castiel said softly, faintly kissing the top of Dean’s head without a second thought. He was absolutely elated.

“Before we do anything else though, I think it’s important to give something to you,” Dean said, wiggling his way out of Castiel’s arms to sit up. He was disappointed at the lack of contact, but that was okay. Dean had agreed to come with him, and they would have more time.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a very familiar shape, holding it in the palm of his hand. Castiel’s happy mood faded slightly at the sight of the amulet. He had genuinely forgot about the thing, even if that was their whole reason for meeting in the first place. “I was going to give it to you sooner, but... I don’t know. I guess I felt scared? But now, I’m not anymore. You know?” Dean explained, looking sheepish.

Castiel smiled at him, grabbing the amulet only to shove it into his pocket, out of sight and out of mind. “I understand perfectly.”

Dean’s cocky grin fell back into place. “Guess this means you’re stuck with me now, huh?”

Not being able to help himself, Castiel placed his hand on Dean’s cheek. “And I don’t mind for a second.” Dean’s mouth formed into an “Oh” shape, but no noise came out.

Without another thought, Castiel found himself leaning in. He felt Dean’s breathing hitch, but he also leaned in. Dean’s eyes closed shut as they leaned together, Castiel’s eyes about to do the same, crossing that final boundary to press his lips to Dean’s, when something bright caught his eye from the embankment.

He focused on the small light, trying to make out what was on the land. His heart dropped at the sight. He could just make out the figures of Lucifer and Michael, holding up a lantern, looking directly at him and Dean. The amulet suddenly felt like lead in his pocket, weighing him down. If he and Dean were going to leave together, he needed to get rid of the stolen possession, and his brothers, as quickly as possible.

Castiel didn’t even realize he had been staring, apparently long enough to warrant Dean’s attention. “What is it?” he asked Castiel, twisting his head to look at the land behind him just as his brothers disappeared from view.

Castiel shook his head, jolting himself from his stupor. He absent-mindedly felt the amulet in his pocket, knowing he had to get rid of the dreaded thing. “I apologize. It’s nothing, really. There’s just one quick errand I remembered I need to take care of,” he said to Dean, grabbing the oars, gliding their boat to the land. He hadn’t meant to ruin the moment between Dean and himself, but it was just postponed momentarily – not gone entirely. He would make sure of it.

“Cas, you’re scaring me. You sure you’re all good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something,” Dean pried, placing his hand on Castiel’s thigh comfortingly, trying to get him to open up. How Castiel wished he could tell him. But he had to get rid of that amulet first and get Dean away from his brothers before he could explain.

“I assure you, Dean. Everything is fine,” he replied, trying to keep his tone calm as he rowed them to shore. He was the furthest thing from fine, but he would be as soon as Dean was safe from his brothers.

It wasn’t very long before their boat was on the sandy banks, the silence in the air almost deafening now that the fireworks had finished. Castiel stepped out of their little ship and took a step in the direction of his brothers, before a hand on his wrist stopped him. He turned to Dean, worry shining in his green eyes. Castiel gave him a small smile. “I’ll be back shortly. I just need to take care of this and then I’ll be right back,” he said, reassuring himself as much as Dean. He gave his hand a small squeeze to emphasize his point.  “I promise.”

Dean nodded, a small smile playing over his lips but it was dampened by the worry on his face. “I'll hold you to that. Don’t keep me waiting too long,” Dean snarked, letting go of his arm, though even to Castiel, the comment lacked its usual bite. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though. He just needed to get this over with.

Castiel walked along the shoreline until he met up with his brothers. It wasn’t too far, maybe a few minutes, but he knew that Dean wouldn’t be able to see or hear anything that happened. Lucifer was sitting on a rock, sharpening a dagger, while Michael was standing patiently, waiting for him.

Castiel gulped, looking at his brothers. “Hello Michael, Lucifer,” he greeted coolly, trying to not let his nerves show. He just wanted to get this over with and get back to Dean.

“Hello Castiel. We heard you’ve been busy, running around the capital with the amulet that we stole together,” Michael said as way of greeting. Cutting right to it then. He began to circle Castiel, who followed suit, not wanting to turn his back on him.

“Speaking of which, I figured it’d be better if I gave it back to you. I realize it wasn’t fair for me to have all the credit, so here it is,” Castiel explained, pulling the amulet out of his pocket, and tossed it at his brother who caught it immediately. “As you see, there it is, in all its glory, so if you don’t mind, I think it’s time for me to bid farewell.”

Castiel noticed that Michael had stopped his circling directly in front of where he needed to go to get back to Dean. He heard a chuckle behind him and turned slightly to see Lucifer standing up, waving the knife around. “Can you believe this guy Mike? Waltzes around here with the amulet which he took from us and then expects us to be fine with that,” he accused, his tone sharp and heated.

He tried not to worry as he watched his brothers start to close in on both his sides. Castiel took a few steps backward, trying to keep his distance from them. “I never wished to do you both any harm. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to be getting back to-,” he started, trying to find a break in this conversation where he could escape.

Lucifer interrupted, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically. “Oh right! You need to get back to your boyfriend there.” He grasped his chin, as if thinking hard. His gaze turned entirely predatory. “Wasn’t there something special about him Mike?”

“Indeed, there was. We heard you found something much more valuable than an heirloom. Someone with the ability to heal people,” Michael sneered. Castiel stepped back in haste, his pulse picking up with each word. He didn’t know how his brothers knew, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he had to warn Dean somehow.

Castiel held up his hands in a placating gesture, trying to get the two of them to stop coming closer. He took another step backwards when his back hit something hard. He dared a glance behind him, and realized he was pressed up against a large steep boulder, one that he wouldn’t be able to climb.

He was trapped.

Castiel was used to Lucifer’s menacing smiles, the ones that he knew would end in pain. But it terrified him to no end when Michael smiled at him. “You’ve been holding out on us, Castiel. You think we still want the amulet?” To prove his point, Michael threw the amulet into the sand, ignoring it entirely as they both advanced on him. “We want him, instead.”

He opened his mouth to scream, hoping that Dean would hear, but Lucifer was quicker. Within moments, his brother slammed him hard against the boulder, slapping his hand quickly over Castiel’s mouth, placing the dagger against his throat. He tsked at him, pouting his lip mockingly. “Come on, Asstiel. You didn’t really think that was going to work, did you?”

Castiel wanted more than anything to throw his brother to the ground and get away from the two of them, but the knife at his throat kept him still. He tried yelling against the hand over his mouth, which only ended in a muffled gargle. However, the action seemed to annoy Lucifer, who dug the knife a bit deeper into his flesh. He winced slightly, as the blade cut into his skin.

He could only stand there, trapped by Lucifer, and watch Michael as he bent down, picking up a sizeable rock from the sandy beach, weighing it in his hands. Castiel’s eyes widened in fear, as his brother walked closer, a sadistic glee in his gaze, eyeing the rock in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Castiel. He’s no longer your burden to carry. We’ll take good care of him and then when he’s sold, you’ll never have to worry about him again,” Michael stated, lifting his hand with the stone in it, poised to strike.

Castiel barely had a moment to gasp before a sharp pain racketed through his skull, sending the world into darkness.

Chapter Text

Dean bit his lip, running his hands through his hair, nervously pacing in the sand. He was overreacting, that was all. Cas hadn’t been gone very long. He was just taking care of whatever it was he needed to do, and then he’d be back.

That’s what he kept telling himself at least – Cas had a task to do, and then he’d be right back. It didn’t matter that he had taken the amulet with him. He would be back very soon and they would go back to the city together. He had promised Dean.

The longer Cas stayed away though, the more Dean worried he was taking too long; that something had happened. He hadn’t given any indication of how long he would be gone, but it still felt wrong as the minutes went by. Was Cas in trouble somehow? Did something stop him from coming back quicker? He didn’t know, but didn’t want to dare try going after him, in case he himself got lost. It’d be worse if Cas came back to their boat to find Dean missing.

Amidst his pacing, he heard a snap and looked up in the direction that Cas had come from. He saw a blurry silhouette in the fog and audibly sighed, ease bubbling through him. “Oh there you are, thank God. I was beginning to think you ran off with the amulet and left me,” Dean joked, feeling relief that Cas was back.

However, his relief quickly gave way to fear as the silhouette turned into two. He took a step back towards the boat, as the figures came into clear view. Neither were Cas. One of them was a blond tall man, a wolfish sneer on his face as he looked at Dean. The other was another sandy haired man, a sack in his hands, staring at Dean with veiled glee, as if the man knew something he didn’t. “That’s because he did,” the man with the sneer answered, his tone flat and unbothered.

Dean’s eyes widened, registering what he said, but he refused to believe him. He glared, his hands curling into fists as he straightened. “No,” he stated determinedly, to reassure himself as much as to deny the man’s words. “No, he wouldn’t do that.”

“See for yourself,” the man drawled, gesturing to the lake surrounding them. Dean didn’t turn his gaze from the man, crossing his arms, wary that it was a trap of some sort. Realizing he wasn’t going to look, the man held up his hands, as he and the other took a few steps back, giving Dean space.

Feeling a bit more satisfied now that they were a larger distance from him, Dean turned his body towards the lake, keeping the strangers within view. He looked out across the horizon, the lights from the capital providing just enough glow across the water for him to see. He squinted, trying to understand just what they wanted him to see.

However, Dean’s heart plummeted as he saw a small boat sailing away from him, a small lantern attached to the end illuminating it. He couldn’t see many features in the dim light, but he could see just enough to make out a familiar figure.

“Cas?” he called, barely keeping himself together, not trusting what he was seeing. However, there was no recognition of him calling. He took a couple of steps forward until he was knee deep in the water, getting as close as he could to call out. “Cas!” Dean tried again, cupping his hands around his mouth, yelling at the top of his lungs, trying to get his attention. “Castiel!”

Either he couldn’t hear Dean or was deliberately ignoring him, but regardless of which, it was a devastating blow.

“Aw, look at the poor kid. So invested in the life of Castiel. He should’ve chosen a better friend, not a lying thief,” the grinning man mocked, chuckling. Dean turned back to him, his words faltering. He just couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Cas wouldn’t leave him, would he? Why would he have asked Dean to stay with him otherwise?

The sneering man merely shrugged. “It was a fair trade, you know. The royal amulet for the boy with magical powers. How much do you think someone would pay to heal any wound, or stay young and healthy forever?”

Dean was sure his knees were going to give out as the man’s words sunk in. Cas traded him. Cas traded him for a trinket. He had been so certain that Cas was genuine that he hadn’t even stopped to consider giving him the amulet with no more than a verbal agreement to leave together could be a problem. Yet, at his first opportunity, Cas ran away with it, leaving Dean by himself.

He wanted to throw up. His father had been right all along, and Dean was the stupidly naïve boy who fell for Cas’ tricks.

The smiling man opened up the large sack, walking hastily towards him as if to grab him. Fear gripped him tight, urging him to move. Before he could question himself, Dean rushed to the boat, grabbing one of the wooden poles in it, and swung at the mocking man. It hit him dead-on, knocking him in the head. The stranger fell to the ground, clutching his head and cursing, but he didn’t dare dwell on it.

Running on his adrenaline, Dean ran towards the sneering man and tried to hit him as well. However, unlike the first one, he dodged Dean’s pathetic attempt at fending him off and grabbed the handle of the stick, yanking it roughly out of his hands.

Dean barely had a second before he was flat on his back, the man using his makeshift weapon to swipe at his legs and knock him off-balance. He groaned slightly, but he pushed himself up and tried to keep moving, scrambling backwards on his hands away from the man. The stranger rolled his eyes and suddenly hit Dean’s chest with the broad end of the stick, knocking the wind out of him.

He struggled to get his breath back as the stranger pressed the weapon heavily against Dean’s chest, keeping him in place.

Dean quickly glanced to his side, as the man beside him was slowly picking himself off the ground, the grin on his face more maniacal than before, blood dripping down from his mouth. “That was a mistake, kid,” he said, glee in his eyes, as he tried standing, falling back to his knees.

He was running out of time to escape. He squirmed under the press of the board, trying to release its pressure from his chest. “This’ll be easier for all of us if you just cooperate,” the sneering man stated, sounding exasperated at his desperate attempts to escape.

Not knowing what else to do, Dean fisted his hand in the sand, grabbing a handful of it. “Thanks, but I’ll pick life,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes. Without another moment’s hesitation, he flung the sand at the man’s face, getting the dirt in his eyes. The man cried out, dropping the weapon and scrubbing at his eyes.

Seeing his opportunity, Dean quickly struggled to his feet, slipping only once, before he started to run, not knowing where to go, but knowing he had to get away. He didn’t even try to glance at the gleeful man, as he already knew the man was nearly up and standing again.

“Get after him!” the sneering man screamed. Dean could only assume he was still trying to get the sand out of his eyes.

“Oh, I love a good chase,” Dean heard the mocking one say before footsteps followed behind him, getting closer with each step. Evidently, he was back up on his feet and much quicker than he had anticipated, despite having been hit with the wooden pole. He pushed himself to go faster, stumbling only slightly in the uneven sand. “Come on, kid! I swear, we’ll take good care of you.”

“Like Hell you will!” Dean called out, wanting to find some way to get them to leave him alone, trying to keep his balance in the uneven sand. He dared a glance over his shoulder to look behind him, finding the men just out of sight around a bend. However, the glance cost him.

Dean didn’t see the sinkhole of sand before it was too late. His foot immediately sunk down through the ground, the suction of the dirt trapping him effectively. He yelped, as he faceplanted in the sand, his panic quickly overtaking him and causing him to become frantic. He pulled his leg as much as he could, struggling desperately to get it unstuck but instead, he became more trapped.

He looked up, hearing the footsteps nearly upon him. Dean braced himself for the moment the two men caught up to him, still trying to free his foot, but surprisingly, it never came. Instead, he heard a thud of some sort and a couple of grunts. “Dean?” a familiar voice called; one he recognized in an instant.

“Father?” Dean asked, forgetting his attempts to free himself from the sinkhole, not trusting his ears. Sure enough though, his father rounded the bend and smiled at him.

“Oh, my precious boy. Here, let me help you with that,” his father said gently, coming around to his shoulders. He grabbed Dean under the arms, leaning him down almost flat on his back, before pulling slowly.

Soon enough, his foot was out of the hole and Dean was free. He stood up, brushing himself off, and his brain was still processing all that had happened. “How did you find me?”

His father gave him a quick pat over, as if checking for injuries, as he explained. “I was so worried about you after I gave you the amulet, in case that wretched thief turned on you, so I followed you. I was watching from afar when those two brutes attacked you.” He grabbed Dean’s wrist and started tugging, pulling him along. “Hurry. We need to go quickly before they catch up to us and follow too.”

They walked along the shoreline where Dean had just come from. He wasn’t sure how his father did it, but the two men were unconscious on the ground, and he was glad to see that they were no longer a threat.

However, as they continued onwards and the little boat came into view, Dean let his hand slip out of his father’s grip. He turned towards the lake, searching for that awful sailboat – the one taking away his dreams. It was still sailing away, far enough now that Dean could no longer see the man he had considered to be his friend and so much more.

Now that the adrenaline from being attacked had worn off, he was overcome with a tide of emotions. He felt empty inside as his heart shattered, thinking about how Cas had tricked him, knowing exactly what he was doing to Dean and using him. All those smiles, all those jokes, all those precious memories that meant the world to him – all of them were a grand scheme to get the amulet back.

“He broke his promise,” he whispered to the quiet of the night, as if that would somehow get Cas to change his course and come back to him. He didn’t know how long he stared out at the horizon, watching the most important person in his life fade from view. With that ship faded Dean’s hope that somehow, this was all a big misunderstanding and Cas would be back for him.

When his father grabbed his arm again, pulling him along, Dean didn’t fight. “You were right," he muttered, his world coming crashing down around him. "You were right about everything. I never should have left." His stomach was in his throat, and it was only sheer will keeping his emotions from overtaking him.

“I know, Dean. I know. Let’s just go home,” his father said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze. Dean let him begin to lead the way back to the tower, as he tried to ignore the way he felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

Chapter Text

Voices slowly woke Castiel, even if they were a bit hushed. He tried to fixate on gaining consciousness again amidst his head pounding, his mind focusing on the one thing important to him. “Dean,” he murmured groggily, rolling his neck. His head lulled, the pain pulsating through him, as he strained to wake up.

“It’s the amulet!” someone cried out from far away, but he found himself ignoring it, in favor of understanding just what situation he was in.

As he sluggishly regained his senses, or tried to at least, he recalled meeting his brothers. He remembered trying to give them the amulet but they refused it because of…

Dean. Fear gripped his heart as he recalled just exactly what happened, suddenly much more alert than he had been moments before. His eyes opened widely, trying to flex his muscles but found himself trapped.

Castiel stiffened involuntarily, seeing the position he was in. His brothers had secured him tightly to a ship, his neck and legs tied to the mast of the boat, his hands tied to the wheel, and the amulet stuck in one of his hands. He shifted his stance as much as he could, straining himself, but his limbs would not budge. He cursed his brothers for their vicious yet efficient retribution.

That was not the most concerning part though. Ignoring his inability to move the rest of his body, Castiel whipped his head back and forth, trying to get a sense of his surroundings. The boat had floated right across to the other side of the lake, leaving Dean on his own. He understood that he was currently in front of the castle, almost about to hit the docks, with guards scrambling towards him and the little ship, but it didn’t matter. The person who mattered most was in serious trouble.

“Dean!” Castiel shouted, turning his head back as much as he could, trying to get a good look at the land on the other side of the water. His brothers had shipped him away entirely, leaving Dean stranded with their ruthlessness. He could only hope Dean could figure out how to use the oars, rowing himself to safety. If his brothers hurt him or kidnapped him, he would never forgive himself. He needed to get out of there as quickly as he could and make sure he was alright.

However, his futile attempts to escape his bonds were halted as the sailboat hit the shoreline, allowing the guards to rush the ship. They yanked the amulet from his grip harshly, before beginning to free him from his ties. Castiel remained still while they cut through the bonds holding him to the mast, careful not to be caught in the process. Though it felt like a sudden moment of freedom, the soldiers restrained his arms behind his back, holding onto him.

Realizing he was being arrested, Castiel dug his heels into the ship’s flooring, slowing them down. He couldn’t be detained, not when Dean was in danger. He fought back against their grips, but they were barely deterred by his efforts, as the sheer number of them overpowered him and started to haul him off the boat.

“Wait, please! You don’t understand! He’s in trouble!” he tried to reason, but no one would listen to him. Why would they not listen? Could they not tell that someone was in danger? He looked back to the other side of the lake, struggling to be freed, his fear rising with every step they pulled him further away. “Dean!” he screamed, fighting the guards every step of the way as much as he could.

He stopped his shouting, as the soldiers dragged him onwards and made their way into the castle. He still kept up his efforts to free himself from their hold on him though. He could only imagine what his brothers might be doing to Dean. Were they hurting him? Did they care at all that he was a human being or only that he had powers? Did they already have someone in mind to sell him to? Was he gone forever?

His thoughts spiraled the further they walked, overcome with all the ways Dean might be suffering at Michael and Lucifer’s hands. Regardless, Castiel tried his best to free himself of the guards’ grasps on him, but they were relentless. There were too many for him to fight at the moment, and none seemed to care that someone was in danger.

It wasn’t long before they brought him down a large staircase leading to the dungeon. He had only been there once before, when Lucifer had gotten himself purposefully nabbed in a heist of theirs. He and Michael broke him out, but it was one of the closest times they had been to getting caught.

At the time, Castiel had vowed that as long as he could, he wouldn’t see this place again. Yet, here he was. Only this time, instead of breaking someone out with his brother’s help, he was the prisoner.

He tried to ignore the sounds coming from the prisoners around him, some of them perking up at the sight of someone new. He heard at least one whistle, plus a couple of vulgar remarks. Others let out groans, not paying attention that a new prisoner was in their midst. They focused instead on their own suffering. Castiel had no idea how long they had been there for, or what kind of condition they were kept in, but he could only assume it was unpleasant. The smell alone was enough to make him wince.

Continuing down the stretch of cells, one of the guards unlocked one at the far end, opening it up as the others dragged him forward. Castiel realized that it may be his last chance to get free and help Dean somehow, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Drawing on all his strength, anger, and fear, he redoubled his efforts to fight for freedom. In one swift move, he freed one arm from the grip of the guard holding him, before elbowing whoever was closest to him.

Seeing his opportunity, Castiel rounded on the nearest guard, the one holding his other arm, landing a punch against their face, which had them staggering away. He dodged a blow to his head, replacing it with his own.

He didn’t care to keep track of how much time passed. He didn’t even really pay attention to who was being hit. As long as they were wearing a uniform, they were his enemy and keeping him from saving Dean. He took a few hits along the way, such as a jab to the stomach, but kept going, kicking one of the guards away as he shoved at the others.

A backhand across his face had Castiel staggering, his skull still aching from where Michael had hit him, but he didn’t stop fighting. He couldn’t stop, not if it meant Dean was going to be okay. He wasn’t above clawing at whoever was closest either, fighting his way out. His desperation was a wild thing, as he distributed more blows to the soldiers nearest him than he would have suspected.

He had nearly taken them all out, when he heard a distinct click in the air. Castiel heaved, the adrenaline coursing through his veins starting to wane, and looked around, seeing Gordon himself slightly down the hallway, a pistol aimed at him. “That’s enough, Jimmy,” the captain ordered, gesturing with the pistol for him to move back into the cell, as the other guards recovered from their fight.

Castiel straightened, feeling blood trail out of his nose, staring the captain down. He wouldn’t give up, not if he could help it, and didn’t believe the captain would shoot him. “Captain, you need to let me go. Someone is going to be hurt without my assistance.” Daring, he took a step forward, ready to fight the man, if needed. Gordon only shrugged and adjusted his aim, firing the gun.

He cried out, the bullet grazing his arm and causing a gash to form and bleed. Clutching the wound, he glared at the captain, even as he reloaded his weapon. “Take another step forward. It’ll make my day much more pleasant, as I won’t miss again,” Gordon stated, a smirk on his face.

Castiel narrowed his eyes but obliged, if only barely. Still holding onto his wounded arm, he cautiously backed up into the cell, Gordon following him with the gun trained on his chest. He slowly walked backwards, continuing to face the captain, until he was met with the wall. There, one of the guards he had fought attached a shackle to his ankle, trapping him in this place, before taking the opportunity to spit on his cheek. He barely flinched at the gesture, more focused on the new obstacle keeping him in place. He shook his ankle out, testing its strength, as it held fiercely.

The captain smiled, placing his pistol in its holder and turned on his heel, his back to Castiel. His eyes widened, realizing he was doomed. Now was truly his last chance to do anything to help Dean. “Please Gordon. I know you have no reason to care, but you must listen to me. There is someone in serious danger. He’s back on the land across the lake and I fear his life might be threatened. If you would even send some guards to check on him, that-” Castiel started to explain, trying to plead with the captain.

Gordon slammed the cell door shut, interrupting him, as he and the guard exited, locking it behind him. He sneered at Castiel. “You’re right. I have no reason to care,” he spat before turning away, leaving him by himself.

“Gordon, wait!” Castiel cried desperately, taking a few steps forward before the shackle stopped him from going further. He cursed the stupid thing, before yelling back to the dungeon. “Gordon!” To his dismay, the captain didn’t return, and he was officially alone.

He ran his fingers through his hair, having picked up the habit from Dean, not caring if his blood was on his hands and was now rubbed all over his face, as he was left to pace and stew. What was he going to do? He didn’t even know how long it would be before Gordon, or any guard for that matter, would come check on him again. By that point though, would it be too late? Even if he somehow did get out of there, how was he going to find Dean again if his brothers had him? They could be in a completely different kingdom by the time he got out of there.

Castiel closed his eyes, lightly banging his forehead against the nearest wall, before groaning at the pain. He placed a hand against skull, trying to appease the fierce pulsating headache that had intensified at the gesture.

Noticing a small cot for the first time, he laid down on his side, facing the cell door. He got comfortable, or as much as he could with the shackle keeping his legs dangling off the end. He tried to remain still to calm the migraine pounding in his skull. In the meantime, he stared at the door as if it was his saving grace, waiting for someone to come find him. Even if he wanted to sleep, which he didn’t, he was sure his anxiety wouldn’t let him.

He tried to come up with a plan to escape while waiting. In his current state though, Castiel was not going to get himself free. The guards had made sure of it earlier, relieving him of all his belongings. If he wanted to get out, he needed something to use as a lockpick. Even a utensil of some sort for food would be useful.

Castiel didn’t know how much time passed before a cloaked form stopped in front of his cell, a guard at their side, unlocking the door. His stomach growled, so he assumed it was morning again, meaning half a day had gone by since he had seen Dean. His heart clenched at the thought, knowing his brothers had wanted him only for his powers.

However, ignoring his emotions, he sat up as the cloaked figure stepped into his cell. “You have five minutes to clean him up,” the guard outside declared, before stepping further down the hall and away from where he was being kept.

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the figure, a bag clutched in their hands. They lifted off their hood, revealing a young woman with long blonde hair and brown eyes. He tilted his head, not knowing what she was doing there. “Who-,” he started, before she quickly put a finger to his lips, silencing him with a glare.

“No talking,” she ordered loudly, glancing at the hall outside the cell before searching inside her bag for something, turning her gaze down. Castiel frowned, not wishing to be ordered around by someone else. Just as he opened his mouth to say as much, she spoke again. Only this time, it was barely a faint whisper, and if he hadn’t been right beside her, he was sure he wouldn’t have heard her words. “Ears everywhere.”

He snapped his jaw shut, not knowing why she was here, or why she warned him about people listening, but he was at least going to try to heed her advice. He watched as she pulled out a cloth and a bottle of medicinal alcohol. “I’m here to clean your wounds. Be still and cooperative, or this will be painful. We will start with your head,” she stated, once again fairly loudly.

As she unscrewed the alcohol and put some on the cloth, she dropped her voice. “I’m Jo,” she breathed, before beginning to dab at the large gash in his skull, courtesy of Michael. It was most certainly the worst of his injuries. Castiel hissed through gritted teeth, as the alcohol came in contact with the wound.

It took him a moment to register what she said. Jo? As in Bobby’s daughter? The same Jo that was Charlie’s wife? He opened his mouth to say something, but she narrowed her eyes, silently warning him not to. He nodded, instead mouthing, Bobby?

Jo nodded, giving him a small smile, as she continued to clean the injury. He flinched slightly, but did his best to keep still. “Next, your nose,” she announced. He really hadn’t put much thought into how his nose was injured, despite the fact it was bleeding. She whispered again, wiping at the blood. “Be ready.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, frowning in confusion. Be ready for what?

For? He mouthed, but Jo only shook her head as she cleaned her cloth, gesturing back to the hallway, where the guard waited for her to be done.

“Lastly, your arm.” He reached up and felt his bicep automatically, having somehow forgotten Gordon had grazed him with a bullet a few hours previously. In his panic over coming up with a plan, he had forgotten about the wound, as his shirt had stopped the majority of the bleeding.

As Jo dabbed at his arm with one hand, she leaned forward immensely, dropping her voice to an even softer tone, placing her other hand on top of his, pressing something small into his palm. “No matter what happens, stay put until you see a signal. When you do, free yourself and run to him as quickly as possible.”

Castiel curled his hand around the small object in his palm, knowing it was a pin he could use to pick the locks. He placed it in his pocket as Jo leaned back to a reasonable distance, wrapping a cloth bandage around his arm, securing it in place. After that, she closed her bottle of alcohol, placing it back in her bag and put her hood back up. There was so much he wanted to ask her, like how she was even there in the first place taking care of him. What kind of plan Bobby had. How Bobby was planning on doing anything to help him.

Signal? He mouthed, hoping she could tell him what he was supposed to be waiting for. Even when he was supposed to be searching for something. But before Jo could say another word, the guard returned. “Time’s up,” he stated, opening the cell door to release her.

She kept her back to the guard for a split second, as if fiddling with the front of her bag of supplies. However, just out of the guard’s view, she put her hands together and spread them out quickly, mimicking an explosion of some sort.

With that, Jo turned and left, the guard shutting the door behind her, leaving Castiel in more confusion. Bobby had a plan, that was for sure. What it was, he had no idea, but a plan was better than nothing. He was shocked to say the least that the soldier would try to free him, but he was grateful nonetheless. Now, it seemed he just had to wait and see what happened.

Castiel laid back down again, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering back to Dean, as he no longer had to develop a plan of his own and his mind was left to wander. He shifted back and forth, but there was no way he was going to get any rest, knowing Dean was out there, somewhere, possibly even dead already.

He shook his head, trying to not let his thoughts wander in that direction. Dean was alive. Dean was safe somewhere and not hurt by his brothers. He wasn’t sold to some miscellaneous buyer or taken against his will to another kingdom. He was perfectly fine, and not at all in danger.

Or at least, that’s what Castiel had to keep telling himself, even if he didn’t believe the lies he was making up. It was the only thing he could do to not be ill, as his mind came up with more and more scenarios, each worse than the last.

He didn’t know how long he would be in the cell, but he could only hope it wasn’t too long. For the moment though, he just prayed that God was listening, that he would have time to break out and escape, and that Dean was safe.

Chapter Text

Dean stirred the pot aggressively, waiting for the soup to finish boiling. It still had a few minutes left and he had time to spare.

Not wasting any second, Dean grabbed the bowls off the counter, placing them on the table. He grabbed their spoons, cleaning one off with a towel, and aligned them neatly with the bowls. Looking at the tower’s color, he clutched it tightly in his hands, nearly ripping the fabric. He refused to think about how the towel was a similar shade of blue to something he thought he knew so well. Grimacing, Dean threw the towel in the sink roughly, turning back to the counter.

He had made a few loaves of bread earlier, taking up most of the day, and he was ready for his fresh bread. He took one of the loaves and cut a couple of slices for the two of them. He hoped his father would like it. He briefly wondered if someone else in particular would enjoy the bread he made, but quickly turned his thoughts away. Instead, Dean imagined chucking the bread at that man’s head, picturing the loaf to be rock-hard. Surely, it’d be satisfying.

Dean turned back to his soup. He placed a spoon into the broth and lifted it to his mouth, blowing lightly before sipping it. It needed some more salt but then would be perfect.

He stepped back, lost in his own thoughts, not realizing his father was right there. Dean looked up and nearly jumped out of his skin, seeing his father who was standing there with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for a minute now, Dean,” he stated.

Dean raked a hand over his face, trying to calm his rapidly-beating heart. “Sorry,” he muttered, not wanting to deal with his father’s inevitable questions, if the look on his face was anything to go by. Sidestepping his father, he grabbed the salt and returned back to the soup, finishing his seasoning. “Soup’s ready. Let’s eat.”

“What’s wrong, Dean? You seem out of it,” his father asked, still staring at him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dean stated, a bit too harshly to be casual. His father narrowed his eyes, watching him move around the room. Dean grabbed the pot’s handles, carrying it delicately back to the main table. As he went back to the counter to grab the bread, a tight grip around his arm stopped him.

He turned to his father, who was frowning. “Don’t lie to me, Dean. Tell me the truth,” his father ordered, the hold on his arm tightening enough to leave bruises.

Dean clenched his fists, getting his emotions in check. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or punch something – the truth was the last thing he would explain to his father. He refused to even think about it, let alone tell his father.

Knowing his father would not relinquish his hold until he said something, Dean lied about the real reason. “I miss Sammy, that’s all.” It was true, to a certain extent. In his father’s haste to get the two of them to safety and Dean’s mind focused on other priorities at the time, they had forgotten the guinea pig with Jody. At least he knew Sam was safe, even if he had forgotten about him.

It was just another thing to add to the list of why he was angry. He had been dwelling on that manipulative bastard who he had trusted and forgot about his best friend of many years in the process. (Even if said bastard still held a significantly large part of Dean’s heart and made him want to scream, which he shoved down at all costs.)

His answer seemed to appease his father, who let go of his arm, which he automatically began to heal. “I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to bring you back without the guinea pig. I’ll get him when I go on my next trip,” his father explained, giving him a small smile. “Now, how about we try out the delicious-smelling soup you’ve made?”

Dean nodded, grabbing the bread he had prepared as his father sat down. He gave his father his portion of bread, before grabbing his bowl and distributed the soup. He did the same for his own bowl, before sitting down in his seat.

He began to eat his food in silence, some part of him knowing it was tasty and quite hot, but it just tasted like ash on his tongue. He shook his head slightly, closing his eyes, refusing to let his mind wander into anything but anger. He would not feel grief or sadness over that man. Only anger that he fell for his tricks. That anger was at least something he could hone and use.

“Well, son. I propose that since it was your birthday yesterday, we should celebrate. What do you want to do?” his father asked, interrupting his thoughts from going into dangerous territory.

Dean’s thoughts betrayed him, immediately coming up with the one solution that he would enjoy – go find the man that broke his heart and demand an explanation, if only so he could know it was all one giant misunderstanding and it somehow could go back to the way it had been.

He shoved those feelings down, changing his wish. He wanted to go find the man that broke his heart and beat him up a bit, shout at him. Maybe he’d trade him for some silly little trinket.

“Nothing,” he said into a spoonful of soup. There was nothing he wanted for his birthday, at least not that his father could provide.

He clapped his hand on Dean’s shoulder, laughing. “Of course not. There’s got to be something you want to do. After all, you only turn 25 once. Something special. Maybe I can get you a new book, or tell you a new story. Whatever you want.”

Dean had to give his father an answer, he knew that. He was relentless otherwise. But it still didn’t stop him from digging his fingers into his thigh to keep from telling his father to leave him alone. “A story about your life before me?” Dean suggested. It was easy enough. He didn’t have to do anything, it would get it over with, and he could go back to cleaning, not thinking. The less thinking he could do, the better. About Charlie, about Jack, or about Claire.

He didn’t add him to the list in his head, stubbornly rejecting the way his heart clenched even thinking about the man. His father didn’t seem to notice that Dean was at his breaking point though, and instead grinned, ready to tell a story. “A story before you. Ok. Let me think,” his father started. He rested his chin on his first, before snapping his fingers, a gleam in his eyes. “Did I ever tell you that I knew the king?”

That shook Dean from his thoughts, stealing his attention. Never once had his father told him anything remotely similar. All the stories were pretty generic, but knowing the king? That piqued his interest to say the least. “You did?”

“Yes. I was friends with him for awhile. I met him through an old colleague of mine. I knew the king for about 5 years, before you came around. I was actually one of his advisors for a while.”

Dean frowned. He went through the history in the gallery when he went to the capital, but there was no mention of his father, at least he didn’t think so. Then again, they really only talked about the prince. However, he didn’t remember seeing any portraits of him either.

Trying to understand how his father fit into history, he tried to come up with something that would be impersonal enough to warrant an answer. Coming up with the right question, Dean voiced his curiosity. “Father, what’s your name?” Somehow, it had never come up. He had never questioned what his father’s name was before going to the capital, but then again, he thought it was irrelevant, as “Father” or “Sir” was perfectly fine to use.

His father threw him an amused look. “Well, that’s a strange question. Why do you ask?”

“I learned some stuff about history when I was in the city. As an advisor to the king, you must’ve been famous. I wanted to know if I heard about you at all,” Dean said casually, taking another large spoonful of soup. He knew his father’s weakness was his ego. Even if he didn’t give personal stories, rarely did a day go by that his father wasn’t talking about himself in some way.

His father leaned back in his chair, resting his arms behind his head. “Well, it’s been many years since anyone called me it. Most days, I prefer to go by Marv. But my name was once Metatron.”

Dean spat out the soup in his mouth, choking and coughing on the broth. There was no way he heard that right. He pounded on his chest, ignoring his father’s strange look. “Swallowed wrong,” he sputtered, regaining his breath enough to take a moment to process. “So, Metatron?” he asked indifferently, keeping the disbelief out of his voice.

“I know. Strange name. But that’s what I get for being born into a religious family.”

He wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe. Metatron. His father was Metatron. The king’s advisor, who tried to save the prince. But. He died in that fire, right?

Dean gripped his spoon tightly, continue to eat the soup, if only to not show how affected he was by his father’s words. He didn’t understand.

“Well, do you have any other questions?” his father asked.

“No, sir,” he stammered out. He didn’t dare ask any more questions, just in case he accidentally let on to how much he had learned in the city.

He was so confused though. How had his father survived the fire? If he made it out alive, did that mean the prince did too? Why hadn’t his father ever told anyone he was alive? Why hadn’t his father ever told him that he had known the royal family?

Dean focused intently on his soup, dipping his bread in the broth before chewing it. He needed time to think, and his father watching his every move did not help his focus.

When he finished his food, he stood from the table, collecting their dishes, and washed off the bowls in the sink. “Are you sure you’re alright, Dean?” his father asked, suddenly right beside him.

Dean jumped minutely, hoping to pull it off as if he were stretching his shoulders. “Yeah. I’m fine. The story made me feel a lot better. Thank you,” he said hastily, drying off the bowls with that same achingly-familiar colored towel, before putting them away.

His father grinned. Dean tried not to grimace. He was reminded of how harsh it seemed compared to… smiles he’d rather forget. “Alright. As long as you are doing better. Now, we can put this whole capital business behind us. I’ll leave tomorrow morning for the city to go get Sam, and we’ll be back to normal,” his father explained, as if his will alone would make Dean’s feelings, or his entire trip for that matter, go away.

“That sounds wonderful, Father. Thank you,” Dean said, forcing a smile on his face. “May I be excused?” He didn’t normally ask, but he figured if he had his father’s permission, then he would be less suspicious.

“Of course, Dean. I’ll see you in the morning for my trip.” With that, Dean scurried on up the stairs, pushing his curtains closed in front of his room. Grabbing the ring from his drawer, the same ring he had been given amongst all the deception, he sunk down onto his bed, his face buried in his pillow, turning the small object over in his fingers. It had become an anchor for him, regardless of the longing he felt looking at it.

How could his father be Metatron? It didn’t make any sense. If the history he had learned about was true – if his father was the same Metatron and had not died in the fire – then the prince should be alive too, shouldn’t he? But why wouldn’t his father have told anyone? Maybe he hadn’t been able to save the prince and didn’t want to bear the shame.

Dean thought back to the portrait of the royal family. The prince had light blond hair in the painting, but it was similar to how Dean’s had been when he was a child. And he also knew he had bright green eyes, almost the same color as the prince’s.

He clenched his fist around the ring, groaning. His thoughts were spiraling, he knew it. He was completely crazy – it was official. He closed his eyes, squeezing his face into the pillow, trying not to jump to such ridiculous conclusions. It was just coincidence that he looked similar to the prince and that his father had worked for the king. It didn’t mean anything.

Dean didn’t sleep that night, his thoughts taking over any ounce of exhaustion he might have had. He played with his ring absentmindedly the entire time, as he turned over every last thought running through his head.

The morning didn’t come quick enough. During the hours of restlessness, when Dean was tossing and turning on his bed, he came up with a plan. If his father truly was who he said he was, the advisor to the king, then he had to have some type of memento in his room, right? He had always been over-protective of the space, telling him to not go in, but Dean had never given it any thought. Now though, he was wondering if there was something in there that he didn’t want Dean to see.

Before making his way downstairs, he made sure to place the ring back in his dresser, keeping it a secret from his father. Dean didn’t know why he did, but for some reason, he didn’t want to share it with him. It felt too personal.

Dean helped his father finish packing for the trip, getting a few things sorted while he finished getting packed in his room. The two of them had already eaten breakfast together. It didn’t help that the entire time, he tried to force a conversation with his father. Dean made sure to get a basket of food ready, including one of the loaves of bread he had made the day before. He wanted to seem as helpful as he could.

“Dean, you’re so thoughtful!” his father exclaimed, coming down the stairs with his bag slung over his shoulder.

“I just wanted to make sure you had a good trip. I want to put the past in the past, and get on with life,” Dean forced himself to say. He didn’t think he would ever be able to recover from his trip, especially now that he was considering breaking into his father’s room on no more than a hint of doubt, something he never would have done before.

“Well, aren’t you just the best son a man could ask for?” His father smiled, pulling him into a hug. He did his best not to recoil from the touch. It just felt unnatural coming from him, as he never did that before the city. “Soon, I’ll be back and Sam will be with me. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yeah, it really is. Safe travels,” Dean said half-heartedly, clapping his father on the back. It was probably the least personal move he could do, but his father never hugged him and he didn’t know how to react.

His father pulled back, keeping his hand on Dean’s arm, grasping it lightly. “You trust me, don’t you, Dean?” he asked him, still smiling. It was innocent, but his eyes had turned calculating. He grasped Dean’s arm tighter, when he hesitated for a second.

“Of course, Father. Of course I trust you. I know you’ll be back in two days, and we can get on with our lives,” Dean replied, keeping his voice light, trying to not let a tremor enter his voice.

“That’s right,” his father said, retracting his grip on his arm to pat Dean’s head. “See you soon, son.” With that, his father began his descent down the rope, leaving Dean alone in the tower.

He waited until his father had made it to the ground, turning back to wave goodbye to Dean, before he ran to his father’s room. As he gripped the handle, he was suddenly overcome with a wave of doubt. This was his father. If he had secrets, he probably had a good reason for keeping them.

But he lied to you about everything in the world. What else was he lying about? A pesky voice in his head whispered, and he agreed.

Steeling himself, Dean turned the door handle, pushing open the door. The bed itself was nearly as large as Dean’s room. His father had obviously decorated it lavishly, with fine materials making up every inch. The dressers were made of sturdy woods from Dean could tell, probably mahogany or oak. The curtains were a beautiful silk material, and it matched the covers on his father’s bed.

Ignoring the interior, Dean began his search for something. Anything to connect his father to the prince. Somewhere, deep inside his core, something whispered that he was correct, that everything was linked together. But he didn’t dare listen, not until he could have something to back it up, besides his own mind.

Dean pulled open drawers, rifling through his father’s clothes, being careful to lay them exactly as they had been. There was nothing exotic about them, nothing hidden in between.

One drawer opened, revealing a piece of paper that made Dean’s heart lurch. It was a wanted poster, depicting ‘Jimmy Shurley’ in all his glory. He closed his eyes, willing the pain away as much as he could, focusing instead on his anger towards him. However, what made him confused was the small dagger that was stabbed straight through the poster, digging a hole through the nose. It had two other holes of roughly the same size, going through each of the eyes.

Why did his father have this poster in his drawer here? Sure, his father had known that Dean’s travelling companion had been a thief, but still. What was with the knife through the poster, as well as the holes in it?

“What are you hiding, Father?” Dean whispered to the empty room, as he continued his search. Something wasn’t right and he was determined to figure out what it was.

A muffled squeak caught Dean’s attention and he scrambled for purchase, his knees giving out. “Sammy?” he called out, hoping he wasn’t hallucinating.

Dean? I’m here! Sam said, the words barely registering. Dean was over to the bed in seconds, looking underneath it. There were a few knick-knacks, all of which had collected dust and cobwebs. The only thing without dust was a small box with a blanket draped over it.

Dean grabbed it, wiggling out from underneath the bed, pulling it in front of him. He threw the tarp off the box and let out a large sigh in relief. There was Sam, stuck in a cage that was much too small for him, holding one paw in the air, but otherwise uninjured. “Do you know where the key is?” he asked, because there was lock on the tiny door, keeping it closed.

I’m not too sure. He always had it in his fist before stowing me away, Sam replied. Dean nodded, starting to look around the room for a key, before the situation registered with him.

“Sam, why are you here? Why does Father have you at all, but also, why in a cage? He just left to the capital to go and get you from Jody, because we left quick enough that I forgot to get you,” Dean asked, admitting his mistake, even as he continued to look for the key.

Dean, your father got me from Jody during the festival. He said he was a friend of yours and you sent him on your behalf.  Sam explained.

“Then why would he lie to me and say he was going to go and get you? But also, how did I not know you were there? Didn’t you make any noise?” Surely, he would’ve known if his father had had Sam with him during the entire time back, wouldn’t he? Even if he wasn’t thinking clearly, why didn’t Sam make any noise?

I don’t know why he lied to you. All I know is that he told me to not make a sound, unless I wanted to get hurt. I tried once, but he sprained my paw as a result. Although, it may have to do with the fact that your father had a number of very particular conversations with a couple of other people.

“What did they talk about?” Dean wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know the answer, but he knew he had to learn at some point, and he knew Sam would tell him the truth no matter what.

One of the main things he grumbled about to them was how he believed that Castiel was a bad influence on you and if you spent too much time with him, you may be persuaded to join him. Dean felt his cheeks heat. His father had been correct. Dean had agreed to go with him, willing to leave behind his father.

Sam continued. I don’t know the full extent of their arrangement, but it seemed he and the two men had a deal of some sort. He mentioned something along the lines of your amulet, how it was a miracle you didn’t recognize it, and how it was important to their plan. When they were done with it though, Castiel would somehow no longer be a threat.

Dean closed his eyes, gripping his forehead. “Slow down, Sammy. What do you mean my amulet? And why would I recognize it? I saw it once before then. It’s not like it was mine. It belonged to -,” he started, trailing off as Sam only stared at him, chirping in agreement. “Nope. No way.”

Dean, Sam started, but he cut him off. “That’s crazy. My father has raised me my whole life. I’m not some special kid that died in a fire years ago and he’s not the same advisor to the king. I don’t know how, but it’s not true. It can't be," he denied outright.

Do you want to know why I know it’s true? Dean didn’t answer, still looking for the key to get Sam out, but his friend knew that he wanted to know the answer and continued anyhow. It’s because of your powers. He explained them to the men, saying how you’ve had them since you were born, because a miracle worker healed your mother when she was pregnant with you. Just like the history you told me about from the library.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, still in disbelief. “But that – if that’s true, then that means that I’m the -” his words faltered.

You’re the prince, Dean.

He gripped the nearest dresser with his hand, his lungs forgetting how to work. He was the prince. He was the prince. Dean wanted to laugh, maybe cry a little. That was crazy. It felt absurd, but at the same time, some part of him knew it was true.

“I knew Cas, Sammy,” Dean admitted, a smile twitching at his lips as he was hit with a sudden realization. “I knew Cas when I was a kid. He and I were friends. He said that he was my best friend and that he lo-,” he started, but he found himself growing cold as he realized what Sam had said earlier. “Why is Cas no longer a threat, Sam?”

Your father had a plan, Dean, Sam started, seemingly choosing his words carefully. Dean didn’t like it for a second. He set Castiel up. He told those men about you so they would deal with Castiel, forcing him to leave. Your father wanted him to be captured and punished for his actions.

Dean shook his head, not wanting to believe it. His father wouldn’t do that, would he? He wouldn’t do that to him, manipulate him like that. Even as he thought it though, Dean knew that wasn’t true. His father was nothing if not ruthless. If he saw an enemy, he disposed of them.

Any earlier anger at Cas was gone, knowing he never wanted to leave but instead was forced to. Instead, it warped into fear for his life. If his father had truly set Cas up and gotten him captured, then that meant he was in custody of the crown. And if he was in prison, then that meant execution, if the wanted poster was to be believed.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, the reality of everything crashing down around him. “We need to find that key now, Sammy. Cas is in danger and we need to go and help him!” he said determinedly, resuming his search for the key.

He felt the minutes beginning to tick by, his mind whirling. He knew that it wasn’t a quick trip to the capital by foot. He didn’t even know when the execution was set for, or if Cas would be on trial, but either way, Dean needed to get there quickly.

Finally, in what he felt like was one of the last drawers, Dean found a small key. He grasped it tightly, giving it a small kiss in relief, before unlocking Sam’s cage. He held Sam lightly in his palm, looking at his paw. It had some dried blood on it but he couldn’t actually make out the injury. He automatically healed him, making sure Sam was no longer in pain.

Sam gave him a glare. Save your strength, jerk. We need to go save Cas.

As usual, Sam was correct. “Bitch,” Dean said, rising onto his feet, still looking at Sammy. “Let’s go.”

“Now what exactly do you think you’re doing?” a voice asked from behind him. Dean spun on his heel, coming face-to-face with his father, leaning against the doorframe. He immediately hid Sammy behind his back, as if his father didn’t know he was there.

“Father, what are you doing back here? What happened to your trip?” Dean asked, forcing a smile on his face as he laughed through his fear. “Why didn’t you call for me? I could’ve helped you up.” How he had climbed the rope without Dean hearing, he didn’t know.

His father smiled too, only there was a lot more menace to it than he expected. “I realized I left without my trusted dagger. I thought there was no point in making you pull me up, so I just climbed by myself. I expected to find you in your room reading, not searching through my room.

Dean took a miniscule step backwards as his father stopped leaning, advancing towards him. “I thought I heard a sound coming from your room. I didn’t know what it was, so I went to check it out. It turns out it was nothing, but then you came back just as I was leaving,” he explained, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“Is that so?” his father asked, raising an eyebrow. Dean nodded, backing up as his father kept coming towards him. “Then you wouldn’t mind showing me what’s behind your back, would you?”

He laughed, trying to come up with something as he hit the bed with his back. “Of course not,” he said casually, placing Sam on the bed. He would not let him get a hold of Sam again, not if he was going to be kept in the cage. But what was he going to show his father? He didn’t have anything that he could show him.

A small pain in his palm bloomed suddenly, and he pulled his hand in front of him, finding it bleeding and injured. “You’re… bleeding?” his father asked, sounding skeptical.

Sammy was a genius, Dean realized, as he went along with the guinea pig’s plan. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with his uninjured hand. “I didn’t want to show you because it’s kind of stupid. One second, I was on my feet. The next, I was falling to the ground, and when I threw my hands out, I caught something and cut my hand. I had only just picked myself up when you arrived.”

His father narrowed his eyes, but shrugged. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. We’re only human, after all. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get my dagger and actually go on my trip now,” his father said smiling, going over to his dresser, pulling open one of the drawers. Dean realized with a start it was the same knife that was stabbed through Cas’ wanted poster.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” Dean stated, making his way out of the room. He just hoped Sammy was hidden from sight under the blankets of the bed. He was just at the edge of the stairs when his father called to him.

“Oh, and Dean?” He stopped, turning to his father.

“Yes?”

The man opened his arms for a hug, coming closer. He tried not to flinch at the weight of his father’s arms around him – it was still so irregular. Before he let go though, his father whispered in his ear. “You need to get better at lying.”

Without a moment to register what his father said, Dean found himself roughly shoved backwards, causing him to lose his balance and tumble down the stairs. He yelped, as he turned over himself, crushing his wrist and hitting his head multiple times. By the time he hit the bottom, he was dazed, seeing stars.

He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, as he heard the stairs creak, only partially understanding that someone was coming towards him. The familiar figure loomed over him, that menacing grin sharper than usual as he sighed. “You should’ve just followed orders” was the last thing Dean heard before another rupture hit his head, slamming the world into darkness.

Chapter Text

Dean slowly woke up, his head feeling like he had just been thrown off the tower. He groaned, shifting his muscles, his arms feeling heavy. He tried to clutch his forehead with his hands, but his arms were restricted and he couldn’t move them. Dean’s eyes shot open, the light in the room momentarily blinding him, as he took in his situation, doing his best to sit up and turn his head behind him.

He was back in the tower, as if it were any normal day. However, his wrists were in chains with strange symbols on them, connected together behind his back and attached to the wall. Dean’s eyes widened, confused, but also concerned, at his predicament. He tried to tug at them to test their movement, but they wouldn’t budge from their place.

Frowning, Dean got onto his knees, as the chains wouldn’t let him stand further than that. He pulled on the chains again, putting more force into the effort, but it didn’t do much. All the action did was put more strain on his wrists, as the metal cuffs around them pinched his skin.

“Took you long enough. I was worried I had killed you for a moment,” an irritatingly familiar voice called. Dean shot his head to where it came from, and instantly regretted it, his head suddenly swimming. His father – No, Metatron – grinned at him, as he walked down the stairs. “How you feeling, Dean? I think you might have hit your head.”

He focused on the pain in his head willing it to go away, but to his shock and horror, it wouldn’t dissipate. It remained there, and that frightened him terribly. He tried again, focusing on where the injury was, but nothing happened. Dean sneered at the man. “What did you do to me?” he asked accusingly, trying to keep the fear from his voice. Why couldn’t he heal himself?

Metatron clapped his hands together as if it were a big joke. “Oh, you mean your little healing power? It’s just being momentarily blocked to teach you a lesson, Dean. After all, I thought you would’ve known better than to openly defy me. Those special cuffs are to help you learn your place.”

Dean shot a glare, his anger fueling his argument. “And here I thought this was all because of my good looks,” he deadpanned. “What was I supposed to do? Just go about my life as if nothing had changed? Pretend that I haven’t learned more about the world in those few days than you had ever taught me in my entire life? Or even better, maybe pretend you hadn’t kidnapped me when I was a child, leaving Lawrence to believe I died in a fire. I can imagine that’d be a really fun time.” He needed the confirmation. He needed to hear Metatron say it, that he really was the lost prince.

Luckily for him, the man loved his own voice. “I see you finally found that voice of yours, Dean. I’m so proud!” Metatron chuckled, wiping a fake tear from his eye, as he walked towards him. Dean backed up until he hit the wall, crushing his wrists behind his back, but it mattered more to put distance between himself and Metatron than if it hurt. The man put his hands on his knees, crouching down in front of Dean. “Would you like a medal, son? ‘I’m the prince that didn’t actually die all those years ago.’ Congratulations.”

Dean hated that Metatron was mocking him. Outwardly though, he shrugged, testing to see how much he could get the man to reveal. “So it’s true then. You and your mentor were angels with fancy powers, and yet, with all that magic, you can’t even cook.” He whistled, shaking his head. “That’s pretty lame, I just gotta say.”

This time, Metatron outright snorted. “I am an angel, yes. Powers, no, but not for lack of trying,” he explained. His tone turned darker, as his eyes narrowed on Dean. He grabbed him by the jaw, forcing Dean painfully to look in his eyes. “You see, I had my powers taken away from me centuries ago. One simple act of treason, and I was forced to become human. Joshua was the only one who still had any grace left. After years of atoning for my sin, I proved myself worthy and was going to inherit his powers when he died. But then you and your fragile mother came along and Joshua took pity on you. He used the last of his grace to heal her, and instead, gave you his powers.”

He yanked Dean’s head violently to one side, admiring the scar on his temple, causing him to gasp as his skull pounded. “I thought for sure that his grace was gone. After all that time pretending to be a model citizen, you and your mother unfortunately lived while I was left with nothing. But no, instead, a healthy baby boy was born, who healed miraculously quickly from any injury he received. It was only a matter of finding the right moment before I could steal you away.”

“Then why not just kill me and take my powers? Evidently, you’d rather do that than take me,” Dean asked, trying to understand. It seemed simpler to him than trying to raise a kid. Metatron groaned, exasperated.

“You have no idea how much I wish that was the case. It’d have made everything so much easier. But unfortunately for me, I can’t take your powers from you or kill you without an angel blade, but those no longer exist. So, I went with plan B,” Metatron explained. He smiled, still gripping tightly to Dean’s jaw, holding him in place. “I’ll admit, you fought as best as you could. It wasn’t even my fault though that you happened to hit your head on the corner of the table when I pushed you. You knocked yourself out and made everything else a whole lot easier.”

He shoved Dean back forcefully, knocking his head back against the wall. He couldn’t hold back a hiss of pain, trying to keep his vision from blurring as the world spun. “Do you know how lucky I was that you didn’t remember anything? I couldn’t believe it. For all of your sporadic healing powers, you couldn’t heal your own memories. It was like my own little slice of heaven. My only problem was now raising you as my own.” He shrugged at Dean, like it was nothing significant. “21 years of a good life, and what do you do? Go fall in love and throw it all away for some man you met. You pathetic, lovesick fool.”

Dean laughed at him, his voice sharp. “Good life? Oh pal, I think you need to get your definition straight. Did you miss the part where I was trapped here my entire life? This whole time, I’ve been hiding from the ‘monsters’ of the world, when the real monster I should’ve been hiding from is you.”

The man’s eyes turned darker. “Everything I did was to protect you. I made sacrifices for you Dean. I spent 21 years of my life being a father to you, raising you to use your powers and this is the thanks I get? You complaining that you were trapped here?”

He barely reigned in a frustrated growl, moving forwards on his knees so he was glaring up at Metatron. “Tell me, what part of raising me did you do? Last time I checked, I fed myself every day with food you supplied whenever you happened to come home." He strained against the chains, sneering. "I grew up and obeyed all your orders, if only in the hope that you would give me some sort of comfort, which you never did. I’ve received more love on that trip to the city than I have in the past 21 years of my life. So congratulations, your one accomplishment is that now I can heal myself and others will barely a thought. Thanks for all the undying support. Can I go now?”

Dean barely blinked before Metatron was gripping him by the collar, ramming him back into the wall behind him. He bit back a yelp, his head swimming. The man grinned at Dean, that predatory gaze back. “It’s so adorable that you still think you’re getting out of here, Dean. You think you learned so much, but you’re still that naïve little boy. That much hasn’t changed. What makes you think you’re going anywhere?”

His eyes widened as he finally took in his surroundings in the background. On the dining table, Metatron had a bag packed with clothes and other supplies, but it didn’t look like he was finished yet. He suddenly realized that he was taking them away. “If you try to take me away again, just like you did when I was a kid, I swear I’ll never let you use my power again. I’ll scream and fight you every step of the way. Anyone who can hear will know exactly what you did, you son of a bitch,” Dean spat at the man, venom pouring into his words.

He meant every last one of them. If Metatron tried to kidnap him again, he would never rest. He would get away, somehow, some day, and this man would never be able to use Dean again.

Metatron seemed to ponder the words for a few moments, before nodding, relinquishing his hold on Dean before turning back to the table in the corner of the room. “You’re right. I can’t have you going around screaming like that. You talk way too much,” the man announced. He held up a cloth and made his way back over to Dean.

He shook his head, understanding dawning on him, trying to get the man away from him. “Stay away from me!” he shouted, eyeing the cloth in Metatron’s hand warily. The man merely sighed at his feeble attempts to get away.

“Stop fighting me Dean. It’ll make this a lot easier on the both of us,” Metatron said, as if that would appease him. If anything, he fought harder, trying to put distance between them, scrambling to press his back further into the wall.

Dean saw the moment Metatron’s patience cracked. He grabbed the chains connecting Dean’s wrists, yanking them forwards, twisting his arms into a painful position. He fell with them onto his front, the momentum pulling him forwards. He felt a small kick to his head, stunning him further. He couldn’t bite back the cry of pain that escaped his throat, his senses overwhelmed.

Still dazed, he didn’t struggle as Metatron pulled him up and wrapped the cloth around his mouth, tying it securely behind his head. Dean tried to say something, anything, to curse the man who he thought had been his father, but nothing came through more than muffled noises. The man gave him a harsh slap on the head, causing Dean to hiss in pain, his skull extremely delicate and, if he had to guess, bleeding.

“Now, isn’t that much better? So much quieter. I’ll just get the rest of my things together and then we’ll be on our way.” Dean’s panic started to take over, his senses dulled. He wasn’t going to escape, was he? He had a feeling Metatron would take every precaution he could to make sure Dean stayed nice and secure.

The very thought filled him with dread. He wished he’d be able to say goodbye to the twins, to Jody and Donna, Bobby and Ellen, but also Cas.

That made him sick to his stomach. Cas was still out there, in prison probably, waiting to be executed, assuming he wasn’t already dead.

Dean realized he’d never be able to tell Cas how he felt, and it hurt more than anything Metatron could ever do to him. “Oh, don’t look so forlorn. I’m not going to kill you. At least not now. You’re much too valuable for that. Just think of this as a mini vacation, for the rest of your life,” Metatron reasoned, packing his bag some more. Dean could only shoot daggers at him with eyes across the room.

Regardless of the pain he felt, Dean pulled and pulled at the chains, ignoring the hurt shooting up from his wrists as the metal cuffs bit into his flesh. He wouldn’t stop fighting, not if he could help it. He only slowed down his attempts to free himself when he saw some blood begin to trickle from the chains, the skin rubbed raw.

He realized then that he may need to go with Metatron willingly, if only to find the right opportunity to escape. He couldn’t injure himself in the process, only to get the proper time to break free and be unable to use it because he was exhausted.

Gathering his strength and relieving his aching head, Dean leaned back against the wall, watching the man as he walked around the tower, grabbing different supplies. He didn’t know how long it was before Metatron gazed confused at the window. Dean heard it too, similarly puzzled. It sounded like a horse or something similar, but why would there be a horse at the tower? The man took a peek out the shutter, before smirking at Dean. “Looks like we have company.”

Chapter Text

Castiel screamed in frustration, yanking violently at the shackle securing his ankle to the wall, even though it refused to budge. “Someone answer me!” he yelled, kicking at the chain. It was no use. He was still utterly trapped in this cell, left with only his thoughts to fester.

“Shut your trap, asshole. Some of us are trying to sleep here,” some voice shouted back through the prison. He just glared at the rest of the prison, not caring for the other prisoners. This had become somewhat of a routine. He would yell to be let free, and someone would yell at him to be quiet. It had been two days of this. Two days of constant worry and it was driving him mad. Apart from Jo, the only time he received any visitors was if a guard was bringing food, and even that was scarce. Besides that, he was on his own.

He knew that Bobby had a plan. Jo assured it, but it didn’t make Castiel stop worrying as the only thing constantly going through his head was Dean is in trouble. He didn’t even know how long it would be before Bobby’s plan took place, and he was growing increasingly agitated in the meantime. He had no idea how haggardly he looked, judging by the number of times he had brushed his hands through his hair restlessly.

Castiel had no doubt that he wouldn’t receive a trial. If Gordon had anything to do with it, he would be executed as quickly as possible. Even having been here for two days was longer than he thought he’d be waiting. But he couldn’t let his sentencing happen without knowing if Dean was alright.

He didn’t know how long he kept on yelling for someone to come check him. His voice was hoarse and near-ragged before he heard the doors to the outside world open, earlier than usual. It wasn’t time for dinner yet. “Hey! I need help checking on someone who’s in danger,” Castiel yelled, trying to gather the attention of whatever guard was nearby. His shackled ankle didn’t allow him to see what was down either side of the prison hall, rather what was right in front of him. There was no response from the guard, only the footsteps getting closer, more than one set. “Did you hear me? I said that someone could die if you don’t help.”

He hoped that whoever was coming in his direction would take pity and listen to him. However, his hopes were short-lived when Gordon stopped in front of his cell, flanked by another guard holding a pair of shackles. The captain smiled at Castiel; his eyes narrowed. “Someone is going to die, but I’m going to be the one ensuring it,” the captain sneered, victory in his eyes. Castiel’s stomach dropped as Gordon opened the cell, allowing himself and the guard to walk in. “Turn around with your hands behind your back,” he ordered.

Castiel stood straighter, raising his chin in defiance. He had tried before to get Gordon to listen and he didn’t, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try again. “Not until you listen to me that someone is in serious danger,” he countered, even though his attempt at negotiation was feeble. It only took a matter of seconds before Gordon had him pressed against the wall, hands squeezing his throat. He gasped, trying to claw at the captain in desperation before he choked.

“Now, you listen here you worthless scamp. When I let go, you are going to turn around and present your hands to me. You are going to be led without struggle to the gallows where I will see you hanged for your crimes against the kingdom,” Gordon hissed. Even in his strangled state, Castiel couldn’t help but be offended that he didn’t get a trial and was sent straight to execution, though he had been expecting nothing else.

Gordon continued his rambling and strangling. “You are nothing anymore, Jimmy Shurley. You are a thorn in the kingdom, one I have been dying to get rid of for years, and now I finally get to see the day.” The captain sneered in what he thought might be a smile, but everything was getting fuzzy. “You are getting what you deserve, after all this time. If it weren’t for the law, I would strangle you here and now, but duty comes before pleasure.” Castiel was beginning to see stars, his body fighting for a breath of air, as his movements became slower and more lethargic.

Finally, the captain slowly relinquished his grip on Castiel’s throat. He fell to the ground, knees biting the hard stones, as his lungs screamed at him, gasping for air. He gulped down as much as he could, trying to right himself, putting his hands to his neck, gently massaging the flesh there.

Knowing it was worthless to fight at this point, Castiel stood, his back to Gordon and his guard. He winced as his arms were wrenched behind his back, with much more force than necessary. The chains clamped around his wrists, also tighter than needed, before the guard released his ankle from its shackle. Immediately, he was shoved roughly towards the cell door, being led to his death.

He fidgeted the entire walk down the hall. He was running out of time and Dean was too, at least that’s what he thought. He may already have been too late. His brothers could be doing anything to him and it was impossible to think of any alternatives. For the meantime though, he needed to escape, somehow with Bobby’s help.

All of Castiel’s thoughts froze as he saw two men he had just been thinking about in an upcoming cell, sitting like they had no care in the world. Suddenly seeing red, he shoved Gordon off of him, bashing his head into the bars of one of the cells before headbutting the extra guard, momentarily disposing of the two of them. He jumped high, tucking his knees into his chest, as he swung his wrists in front of him.

Running on passion and anger, Castiel grabbed his brother’s collar through the cell’s bars, pulling his head towards him forcefully. “How did you find out about him?” he snarled at Michael. When his brother merely blinked at him, he shook him, banging his head into the bars. “Tell me now!”

To his surprise, Lucifer was the one who responded, watching the scene unfold. “It wasn’t us. It was the weird old man. He set up everything. We just got the fun of executing the job. I mean, before he betrayed us. But hey, I always wanted to know what actual prison life was like, as opposed to my previous temporary visit. Quite boring, if I’m being honest.” He almost seemed uninterested with the conversation while Michael still remained silent.

“Old man?” Castiel whispered, more to himself than anything, pausing as he tried to come up with someone who would do that. However, it cost him. Gordon and the guard were on him suddenly, grabbing his arms and shoulders, forcing him forward. He tried digging his heels into the ground, fighting to talk to his brothers longer for any information on what happened to Dean, but it didn’t help him from being pulled further down the hall, as the two guards were seeing him safely to his hanging. “Wait, please. You don’t understand! He’s in trouble!”

His pleas were met by deaf ears. Both the captain and the other guard ignored him and his desperate cries, Gordon going so far as to hit him on the back of the head to get him shut his mouth.

“Please Gordon. Just listen to me. If you don’t help, he may die, if he isn’t already dead,” Castiel pleaded one last time, trying to get the captain to understand.

Gordon’s grip on him tightened. “You think I give a shit about what you want? You’re finally getting what you deserve, Castiel,” he said, whispering his name in his ear. Castiel stumbled, his name on Gordon’s lips sending a tingle of fear down his spine. The captain smiled at him, seeing his distress. “Yes, I know who you are. Your partners were very cooperative in exchange for a pardon.”

The captain tapped his head, narrowing his eyes. “You know, it took me a bit of time to try and figure out where I recognized that name. Then suddenly, it hit me. The prince had a friend named Castiel, someone who no one had ever seen. He had actually been waiting for his friend when the fire took his life. Now, I can’t help but wonder if the fire was merely an accident or if his mysterious friend had something to do with it.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, staring at Gordon as if he had grown a second head. “You can’t be serious. You think I did something to Prince Henry?”

Gordon shrugged. “You were a figment of the prince’s imagination, or so we all thought. He was waiting for you when he died. You became a criminal later in life. Do you have anything to prove that you were not responsible for his death?”

Castiel almost laughed at the absurdity of it. To think that Gordon believed he was responsible for the prince’s death was ridiculous. “I was 6 when the prince died. I only saw him once in awhile, but that’s because he invited me to come and see him. I didn’t hear he was dead until someone told me about it three days later,” he reasoned, trying to get the crazy notion out of the captain’s head.

However, Gordon seemed to be set on his incredibly laughable theory. “It sounds like a likely story.”

He glared at the captain. “Have you even thought about the logic behind your idea? What use would a small kid have for getting rid of one of the only friends he had? Or how would he have the means to start a fire and escape? Why would I try to befriend the prince only to kill him?”

He received a slap on the back of the head as a result. “Keep your excuses to yourself. No matter what, you’re being hanged today,” Gordon hissed, too much pleasure in his tone for Castiel’s liking.

He narrowed his eyes, barely biting back a retort, as the reality of his situation came crashing down on him when the end of the hall came into view. In the courtyard stood a single platform raised in the center, a noose hanging from it.

Before they could reach the open area though, a guard came rushing forwards, his hands on his knees, taking a deep breath. “Captain,” he breathed out, gathering his breath, the words a bit muffled under his helmet, the bottom of it covering the lower part of his face. “There has been a prisoner escape.”

The guard holding onto him clutched a bit tighter at the words. Gordon stepped forward, an angry frown forming on his face. “Who was it?” he demanded. Castiel noticed with a start that the guard was reaching for his pistol, but no one else apparently paid attention, the news of a prisoner escape distracting them.

The new guard straightened, so only his eyes were visible, but Castiel could’ve sworn they were ones he recognized from a long time ago. “Jimmy Shurley,” the guard stated, amusement lacing his tone. Castiel’s eyes widened, remembering Bobby had a plan to see him escape and he just needed to do his part.

The captain turned on his heel, his face storming, double-checking that Castiel was, in fact, still there and in chains. “You think that-,” Gordon started, but was interrupted as the guard slammed his pistol into the captain’s skull, knocking him out, before pointing it at the one holding him.

“Oh, sorry. Did I say there was a prisoner escape? I meant to say currently in the process of,” the guard snickered, motioning at the other with his pistol. “Back away from Jimmy slowly.”

He turned his head to look at the guard. She narrowed her eyes between the two of them before wisely stepping away, backing up against the wall. The guard didn’t take a moment to hesitate, before hitting her in the head with his pistol, just as he did with Gordon. “Maybe I should’ve also mentioned that I escaped from prison too,” he muttered, seeming more to himself than anything.

Castiel opened his mouth to ask what was happening, before he heard a shout from where they had come from. “Get down here and help us fight, would you? Cas can take care of himself,” Charlie yelled, bursting through the doors, a sword in her arms, as she kicked a guard back through the path she had come from. He recognized another figure fighting beside Charlie, Jo.

“Are you sure you don’t want some alone time with your wife? What’s better than a nice romantic sword duel?” the guard joked, yelling down at them.

Even from down the hall, Castiel could feel the heat of Jo’s glare. “Once we get out of here, I’m coming to beat your ass next!”

The guard only shrugged, winking at Castiel. “Well, I guess duty calls. Remember to wait until the signal. See you soon, Cassie,” the guard announced, running down the hall, leaving him gaping. There was no way. There was literally no way that was who he thought it was – it could only be a dream.

However, not wanting to mess up whatever was planned, he diligently waited at the end of the hall, hoping for whatever signal was promised. From his vantage point, he could just see a multitude of guards rushing from wherever they had been stationed towards the courtyard. He winced, knowing that they would be coming for him in mere minutes, but he had been told to wait for the distraction.

A large boom resounded through the hall, sending Castiel to his knees, unprepared for the sudden impact. He looked up, coughing through the dust and dirt, noticing that the stairs between himself and the guards were reduced to nothing but rubble. “That’s one!” someone yelled, he was pretty sure it was Jo, and he took that as good of a sign as any.

Pulling the lockpick from his pocket, he quickly inserted it into the cuffs, his hands only barely shaking, as another explosion echoed throughout the hall. “That’s two!” He ignored the ringing in his ears and focused on the shackles, hearing the satisfying clink as they unlocked, before sprinting out into the open. He didn’t know where he was going, but he was told to run to Bobby. Now it was only a matter of finding him.

Castiel squinted through the rubble, trying to find the older man. Looking around, he saw two figures waving at him. He smiled, seeing Bobby and Ellen desperately getting his attention. He started to run towards them before one final explosion took him off his feet. He rolled to his feet, not letting it deter him, as he only had the one chance.

“Glad you made it, boy. Only one shot to get this right after all,” Ellen exclaimed, pulling him into a side hug, before handing him a cloak to put on.

“I’m glad to be out of there, thank you. But how did you pull this off?” Castiel asked, as he threw the hood over his head. She pointed at her husband, who only shrugged.

“I wasn’t getting my yearly bonus anyhow. Might as well raise Hell in the process,” Bobby answered. Castiel opened his mouth to thank him, but the older man only glared. “Now let’s get going before we get stuck here.”

He nodded, following Bobby’s lead, as he chose a path for them to take, running across the castle grounds. “How did you do the explosions?” he asked, trying to distract himself from the fact that guards were starting to reorient themselves.

The soldier grunted, turning quickly in a new direction towards the gates. “Meg has some surprisingly unique qualities. Apparently, demolitions expert is one of them.”

Castiel wasn’t going to even ask, as they reached the open gates. He saw Jody and Donna on either side, waving at them, before each fighting some guards who were trying to relieve them of their position.

“This way,” Bobby directed, as they were now in the streets of the capital, sprinting down an alley. He followed without comment, not knowing where they were going, but perfectly fine with it.

The older man led them down a few more miscellaneous roads, before coming upon another man, around Bobby’s age, who was holding a beautiful black horse by the reins, hiding in the alleyway. The man sized him up as they approached. “So, this is the famous Castiel? Not exactly what I was expecting,” the man said as introduction. He recognized the voice vaguely. It was Bobby’s friend from the library, Rufus.

“I’m telling you. He doesn’t look like much, but Cassie here is a fighter, even if he looks like a teddy bear when he growls at you,” someone said from beside him. Castiel turned to the voice that was suddenly beside him and was greeted with the masked guard from before. He reached up and took his helmet, revealing his face. “Hey baby bro.”

Castiel felt his heart stop as he came face-to-face with Gabriel. He was sure he had died, having never returned to the family when he left years ago. He took a few steps towards his brother and before he could think any better of it, he punched his brother as hard as he could in the jaw. “You’re alive? After all these years? And you couldn’t have bothered to even leave a note or let me know in some form?” he accused, his anger rising.

Gabriel stumbled into the alley’s wall, holding his jaw in his hand, rubbing it tenderly. “Ok. I guess I deserve that,” his brother admitted, righting himself.

“You think?” Castiel shrieked as quietly as he could without drawing attention from any passersby or the guards that were most certainly swarming the streets by now, his emotions getting the better of him. He took the final steps to his brother and enveloped him in a crushing hug, not caring when a tear slipped down his cheek. It only took a moment before arms wrapped themselves around his back. He tightened his grip on his brother, not believing it was real. Gabriel was alive. He was okay and here in the city and it was more than Castiel could have hoped for.

A throat cleared. “Not to interrupt the emotional moment, but I don’t think we busted your wanted ass out of prison and destroyed half the dungeon just for you to get caught again,” Rufus commented, clearly impatient. He reluctantly let go of Gabriel, but it was so incredibly delightful to be reunited.

“He’s right you know. You don’t have time to waste. Them guards are after you, but you also have places to be. I heard you hollering that night at the docks that Dean was in trouble,” Bobby explained, agreeing with his friend. He gave a pointed look at Castiel. “Go save that love of yours, ya idjit.”

Castiel nodded at the support, before pointing a finger at his brother. “You and I are going to have a serious discussion when I get back, do you understand?” he stated, glaring at Gabriel. His brother, to his credit, just nodded.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

Rufus looked between him and the horse. “This girl here is Baby. She’s a real fast girl, loyal to a fault. She’ll keep you away from those guards and get you wherever you need to go. Best damn horse in all the world,” he explained.

 Rufus handed Castiel the reins of Baby, and he pet her snout gently. She snuffed him, not seeming to have any issue with him. Smiling, he pulled himself up into the saddle carefully. “Thank you. I would’ve never made it out of there alive without your help. I am extremely grateful,” he thanked, meaning every word.

“We got some supplies ready for you. There should be some food in there, plus Jody and Donna raided the supplies room where they stored your things after arresting you. You should find that shiny blade of yours in there,” Bobby stated, gesturing at the bag attached to the saddle.

“Know that I’m going to meet this Dean-o and give him full scrutiny if he wants to court my little brother,” Gabriel teased, patting him on the leg encouragingly.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I haven’t seen you in years and you’re still completely insufferable,” he complained. Gabriel pouted mockingly, opening his mouth to say something more, but he interrupted his brother. “I’ll be back soon, with Dean. I promise. Thank you once again, and stay safe.”

With that, he snapped the reins of the horse sending them both flying into the city. Rufus hadn’t been joking when he said Baby was fast. Castiel gripped tighter on the reins, as the girl flew down the streets.

Townsfolk scattered as they heard his approach, trying to not get trampled by the horse’s hooves. He did his best to apologize to as many as he could, but he was in too much of a rush to dwell on it. He needed to get to Dean, wherever he was. The only place he could think of was the tower. If his brothers no longer had him, then that’s where he would’ve gone, right?

Castiel breezed by the guards in the streets, as they also ran out of the rampaging way of Baby. He heard them holler at him to stop, but he was already long gone before they could even make a move to stop him.

He directed Baby outside the city, crossing the bridge from the capital, and he began to navigate the terrain, remembering how to get back to the tower. He just hoped Dean would be there and that he was okay. He followed the path, veering into the forest only when it was necessary

The journey didn’t take near as long as it had on foot. Then again, he and Dean had had many setbacks when they were travelling to the capital, so it was a quicker trip than he remembered.

In a matter of hours, he found himself in front of the tower. How had life changed so drastically since he had first climbed it? He dismounted from Baby, giving her a loving rub on her neck and directing her to the stream. Trusting her to stay put as she grazed on the grass and drank from the water, Castiel turned to the bottom of the tower.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching into the saddle bag to grab his holster holding the angel blade. He felt better carrying it around, just in case.

Securing it on his waist, Castiel walked to the base of the tower. “Dean?” he shouted up, hoping that he was there and not dead in a ditch somewhere, or that he would even be able to hear him, with only one of the window shutters open. He was met with silence. “Dean, let down the rope!” he tried again, but there was still no answer. Cursing, Castiel grabbed at the stones, beginning to pull himself up. If he had to climb the tower to make sure Dean was okay, then so be it.

He had only made it a couple of steps up when he heard a loud creak. Castiel looked up to see the second shutter of the window open, and the rope cascade downwards to him. He grinned, grabbing the end as he hoisted himself up and began to climb. Relief flooded through him as he ascended upwards, knowing Dean was there and alright.

Castiel stumbled into the window clumsily, recovering his energy as he leaned on one of the shutters. He closed his eyes for a second, catching his breath. “Dean, I thought I’d never see you again. I-,” he started, opening his eyes to the room.

His voice caught in his throat. There was Dean, struggling violently against chains holding his wrists behind his back, a gag shoved in his mouth. The only thing he could hear was muffled screams, Dean’s eyes wide with fear and worry.

A sharp blinding pain ignited in his side, like a fire burning through him. He gasped, clutching his side, falling to his knees, warmth blooming in his hands.

Chapter Text

As soon as Dean heard Cas’ voice yelling up to him, he fought as hard as he could to escape. He didn’t care if his knees were scraping against the floor or if the chains were digging into his skin, but he needed to warn Cas to stay away. He redoubled his efforts, as he watched Metatron throw the rope down to Cas, grinning that hideous smirk at Dean, hiding in the shadows with the dagger in his hand.

After Cas climbed into the window, smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world, time seemed to slow. Some tiny part of Dean was thrilled to see that he hadn’t been executed, that he came back for him. Even seeing Cas smile was enough to make him feel like he hadn’t seen the sun in days but it was suddenly back. The rest of him though was quite literally screaming at Cas, trying to warn him of the man lurking in the shadows, the very man who took Dean away from him all those years ago. Though he struggled wildly against his bonds, he was unsuccessful in his attempt to free himself.

One moment, Cas was standing upright, perfectly normal.

The next, he was keeled over on the ground, clutching his side, as Metatron loomed over him, his dagger now stained with Cas’ blood.

Dean shouted, fear chilling him to the bone, as he fought desperately against the chains as much as he could, even though they refused to budge. “Now look at what you’ve done, Dean. Forcing this young man to die because of your disobedience. Truly shameful of you,” Metatron drawled, stepping over Cas, as if he didn’t care at all that he just stabbed someone.

He didn’t pay attention though. All of his attention was focused on getting to Cas and healing him. There was so much blood, and in the center of it all, was Cas, curled in on himself, his face contorted in pain as he let out a distressed noise.

Dean shifted his grip, trying to find anyway to get out of the bonds holding him. He continued to yell to Cas through the gag, even if it wasn’t heard. “Now, as for us, Dean. You and I are going somewhere where no one will ever find you again,” Metatron said from behind him. When he got there, Dean didn’t know.

The next thing he knew, the chains loosened and he could move. Dean quickly scrambled forward, making it three steps before he was roughly pulled back. His feet fought for purchase on the floor, as he felt himself being pulled in the other direction away from Cas.

Metatron shrieked and Dean looked to see what was the matter. Sammy had latched onto his ankle and bit down hard, it seemed. He had never been prouder of the little guinea pig, as the hold on the chains relaxed and he was able to take a few steps forward again. “Get out of here, you rodent!” the man snarled, kicking at Sam. Dean cried out as his boot hit Sam, sending him sprawling limp across the floor. Metatron directed his gaze back at Dean, regaining his hold on the chains. “Now, back to you.”

The man stepped slightly to the side, revealing a small hole in the floor, just large enough to fit a body, with stairs leading down into it. Dean’s thoughts were overtaken with panic, as Metatron yanked him backwards again, pulling him along. He couldn’t leave. He needed to heal Cas. “Honestly Dean, you’re just making this more difficult for yourself. All this for a man? This is stupid, really. Stop fighting me,” he gritted out, as if that made anything better.

Dean only fought harder, anger and fear pushing him on, as he brushed his face against his shoulder, trying to get the gag off. His eyes found Cas’, even as he was bleeding on the floor, as he watched Dean fight to get to him. He continued his struggle to break free. “Dean, watch out,” Cas wheezed painfully, his eyes crinkling with worry or hurt, he couldn’t tell.

Without a moment to think, something hooked around his foot and suddenly, he was on the ground, blood in his mouth as his chin hit the floor. Dean laid there dazed, his brain feeling rattled in his head, before Metatron pulled on the chains again, dragging him along the ground.

If there was one thing that he could be grateful for from being pulled along the ground, it tugged the gag from his mouth. Dean scrambled as quickly as he could onto his back, even as his wrists screamed at him, pushing against Metatron’s grip. “Metatron,” he tried, still fighting to not be dragged down those dark stairs, never to be seen again. The man didn’t even flinch, only pulling Dean further along.

“Father!” Dean screamed, eyeing the hole to his doom that was mere steps away, hoping that he would stop, if only for a minute. Surprisingly, he stopped. He held Dean’s chains tight in place, but refrained from pulling. He only had a moment to change his mind.

“I said that if you took me away, I would fight every step of the way. I meant that. I will continue to fight. I will make your life a living Hell as much as I can. I will never stop trying to get away from you,” Dean started, throwing venom into each word. Metatron tightened his grip, pulling him a bit closer, urging him to get to the point. He exhaled, knowing the one thing he could do that would get them both out of there alive. “But. If you let me heal Cas, then I will go with you.”

“No. Dean, you can’t,” he heard Cas say, but it was quickly muffled by another groan. He had to ignore it, even as his heart broke. He had to do this. It was the only way.

“I will go with you, just like you want. I won’t ever mention being a prince, or anything about having angel powers. I can heal you as often as you want, and you can do whatever you want with me. We’ll be father and son again, and I’ll never run. I promise.” He hoped Cas was paying attention, if only so he could understand that Dean was the prince and had been his friend when they were children.

Metatron hadn’t moved, only lifting an eyebrow at the offer. Dean only pleaded further. “Please. Whatever you want. Just. Let me. Heal him,” he begged, his voice breaking.

The man’s face contorted into a smile, his eyes narrowing on Dean. “Well. With such a generous offer, how could I say no? A father can’t deny his son such a deal,” Metatron exclaimed, pulling Dean again. He immediately struggled, not wanting the man to go back on his words, but he only pulled Dean back to begin to unlock the shackles on his arms.

“Not a move until I allow it. Do I make myself clear?” Metatron stated, before finishing freeing his wrists. Dean nodded, willing to accept whatever terms, as he was only focused on the fact that Cas was still bleeding and he couldn’t heal him yet. He flexed his wrists, feeling his power return to him. His head started to lessen in pain as his healing flowed automatically.

Dean waited patiently as Metatron withdrew the chain from where it had been secured on the wall, and instead wound the chain around the pillar in the centre of the room. Dean barely refrained from crying out in distress, biting his lip as he watched the man grab Cas’ arm, the one not wrapped around his side, dragging him on the ground to the post. Cas hissed, snarling at the man, but Dean could see the sweat on his brow. He was getting weaker by the second.

Cas’ arm was snapped into the shackle, securing him in place against the post, earning a pained whimper from him that had Dean’s heart shattering. “Just in case you get any ideas about following us,” Metatron warned before turning back to Dean.

“Heal him, and then we’re going,” he reaffirmed to Dean, signaling his permission. He nodded, knowing what he promised. He immediately ran to Cas, kneeling at his side. His powers had finished healing his head, and were finishing off his wrists, but he stopped them to save his energy. The only thing that mattered to Dean was Cas.

“Hey, sweetheart. We’re going to get you healed up in no time, alright?” Dean reassured, brushing back the hair from Cas’ face. He looked so pale, his skin unusually clammy, and it was unbearable to look at. There was so much blood on his chest and it was terrifying Dean to no end.

Cas meekly shook his head, his eyes looking heavy. “No, Dean. I can’t let you do this,” Cas argued, pain lacing every word, as a cough shook through his body, a hiss passing through his teeth.

Dean blinked, trying to hold back tears, as he placed his hand on Cas’ cheek. “And I can’t let you die.” He didn’t know what he would do if Cas died. The thought alone was more than he could bear.

“But if you do this, then you will die,” Cas wheezed out, taking shaky breaths between his words. “He took you from me once. I can’t lose you now. Not again.” A groan stifled him as he shifted slightly, placing his hand in Dean’s lap. He gave it a little squeeze, a sad smile forming on his lips. Cas understood the promise he had given Metatron. Cas knew that they had been friends, and who his ‘father’ was. He could keep on living his life, knowing Dean had survived all those years ago, and hopefully knowing he loved him.

“You’ll never lose me Cas. I’ll always be with you,” Dean reassured, feeling his composure breaking, realizing this was going to be the last time he would see his love. He heard Metatron clear his throat and knew he had to get a move on. Cas looked ready to fight him, so Dean put a finger on his lips, silencing the words. “Hey, it’ll be okay. Just know that little prince loved you too.”

Dean closed his eyes, putting his hand over top of the wound. Cas let out a strangled noise and Dean breathed out slowly, ignoring how his heart clenched at the sound, and prepared himself. “Dean, wait,” Cas pleaded. Dean didn’t dare wait, knowing that Cas’ life was on the line.

He felt his power growing. He focused on the wound and saw it in his mind’s eye. He rallied his thoughts and-

A sharp sting across his neck startled him out of his focus, a clanging rattling the air around him. He opened his eyes, as he felt warmth trickle down his neck, to see a bloody blade on the floor, right beside Cas’ hand. “Cas, what-,” Dean started, not understanding why he did that, when he saw it.

A long trail of light grew out of Dean’s wound, filling the air with a bright light. Cas seemed to know what the light was though, as he eyed it determinedly. He lifted his hand, waving through it, and it dissipated into the air. His lips turned up slightly, smiling hazily up at Dean. “You’re free now,” he breathed out, as if that was any sort of explanation.

He didn’t understand what the light was, but something felt wrong in his body. He was hit with the sudden realization that some fundamental part of him was missing. Unlike when his powers were blocked, they were completely gone. He couldn’t heal himself or have any sort of notion that he ever had been able to.

“No!” Metatron screamed frantically. Dean turned his head behind him, the situation hitting him fully, as the man stared at them both, his gaze furious. He rushed at them, shoving Dean out of the way, gripping Cas tightly by the collar, as he stayed laying on the floor. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Somehow finding an angel blade and ruining everything I set in motion!”

Dean didn’t even think, his anger overtaking him. He tackled Metatron off of Cas, the two of them rolling on the ground. Dean landed on top, pinning the man to the ground, landing a punch to his jaw. The satisfaction that shot through him was exhilarating. He hit him again, trying to get him to back off.

However, it quickly became clear which of them was the better fighter. Metatron jabbed Dean in the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. Using the moment to his advantage, the man switched their positions, forcing Dean on his back. He grabbed his throat and began to squeeze, choking him as he shoved Dean’s head against the ground.

Dean gasped, from lack of air and the pain that shot through him. He was starting to see stars. “You know, this isn’t at all what I had planned on doing today. After that little stunt, I might just keep you alive to torture you the rest of your life. You’ll live every day knowing that you let Castiel die. It’ll serve you right,” Metatron threatened, strangling him.

Dean’s hand felt around him on the ground, trying to find anything to get the man off of him. He patted around, his vision blurring, when he felt something cold and metallic at the tips of his fingers. “Or maybe I should kill you today. After we watch Castiel die though, of course. Just so you know you failed him.” He ignored Metatron’s words, as he felt his consciousness slipping. He stretched his arm as far as it could go, wrapping his hand around the steel.

Without another thought, Dean thrust his arm into Metatron’s side, impaling him on the blade. The man opened his mouth in shock, no words coming out. A bright light shone from his eyes and face, before he slumped to the side, relinquishing his hold on Dean.

He struggled for air, gulping down as much as he could. His chest heaved, as he looked over the corpse of Metatron.

A pained whimper brought Dean away from Metatron and back to the problem at hand. “No, no, no,” he murmured to himself, rushing back over to Cas’ side, placing his head in his lap. His eyes were barely keeping open, taking on a glazed look. He put his hand lightly over the wound, panicking. “Come on Cas, stay with me. That’s all you need to do. Just stay with me and I can still heal you.”

Dean tried. He really did. He put every ounce of will into his hand, trying to coax any amount of power, or grace as Metatron called it, out of him and into Cas, but nothing happened.

His eyes closed as a sob escaped him. There had to be something he could do. Maybe, if he rushed back to the city on whatever horse Cas brought, he’d be able to save him. There had to be someone there who could help, right? Another healer possibly or someone similar.

“Dean, it’s okay,” Cas whispered softly, as if sensing the frantic plan trying to form in his head. He shook his head, denying that with everything he could.

“No, it’s not, Cas. Not without you,” he argued. Dean felt a hand on his cheek and leaned into the touch, as he opened his eyes, staring down at the man he loved. Cas continued to look up at him with adoration in his eyes, even if his forehead was completely scrunched in pain.

“Remember your song?” Cas asked quietly, a cough stuttering his words. It shoved Dean over the edge, knowing what Cas was saying - this was their goodbye.

A tear began to fall from his eyes, rolling down his face. Cas’ thumb rubbed it away, soothingly.

“Carry on my wayward son,” Dean started to sing, even if his voice was the least steady it had ever been. “There’ll be peace when you are done,” he croaked, as his voice broke.

Cas was still looking up at Dean with love in his eyes, and his heart crumbled. Dean smoothed the hair from his forehead again, cupping his face in his hands. “Lay your-,” Dean continued but stopped when Cas took a shuddering breath mid-phrase, his eyes closing momentarily.  He gulped, before forcing himself to continue. “Lay your weary head to rest.”

His own vision was going blurry from tears, but he didn’t care. Cas swiped his thumb along his cheek one more time. Dean heard a faint inhale of air. “Don’t you cry no more,” Cas sung weakly, the tiniest of smiles on his face.

He leaned into that touch as much as he could, when the warmth slipped away from his face. Dean tried to see through his tears, as Cas’ hand fell to the ground, his chest suddenly still. No more breath was coming from him, and he wasn’t sure he was breathing either. Dean only stared at him; his beautiful eyes lifeless and dull. The sudden silence in the room was truly deafening.

“Cas?” Dean asked, hoping against all odds he would get an answer. There was nothing. No movement, no breath, no words. Nothing. “Cas, please.” He pleaded, as if begging him to wake up would make any difference.

“Cas,” he cried, wishing more than anything just to see his love smile again.

His tears flowed freely down his cheeks, as he held Cas in his lap, brushing his fingers tenderly through his soft hair. If he just didn’t look, he could imagine Cas was still alive in his lap, laying on him as if nothing was wrong with the world.

“How am I supposed to carry on without you, Cas?” Dean whispered tearfully to the empty room, pressing their foreheads together.

Dean didn’t make a move. He barely made any noise other than his sobs. He wanted to scream, at Metatron, and at any gods that were left in the world for taking away this joy in his life.

He wanted to shatter something and rage at the world for bringing him this wonderful gift only to snatch it from him. But he didn’t. He couldn’t find it in himself to. He could only hold Cas in his lap, pretending he was asleep against him, even as the warmth started to leave his body.

He pressed a kiss to Cas’ forehead, staying there with him, denying the truth with every fiber of his being. Cas was gone, and there was nothing he could do as he felt himself shatter.

Dean didn’t know how long he stayed there. It could’ve been seconds, but it may have been hours. He just held onto his love, as if there was nothing else in the world, willing him to come back to life.

A small weight rested against his foot, and Dean wiped his eyes, seeing Sammy nuzzle against him. “Sam, please tell me Cas isn’t really d-” he couldn’t even say the word. It was too difficult before he choked up again.

Dean, you did everything you could, Sam replied softly.

He laughed bitterly, his tears making his voice thick. “And where did that get me, huh? I had these supposedly all-powerful healing powers and when I needed them most, they were gone and I couldn’t do a thing! All because Cas just happened to have that stupid angel blade and-,” Dean started to rant, before focusing on the blade.

“I know that blade,” he said, recognizing the knife. It was the same one Cas had given him to slice his palm in their room. “The ring!”

Sliding Cas’ head off his lap as gently as he could to lay him on the floor, Dean rushed up the stairs as quickly as possible, sprinting to the drawer in his room. Just as before, the small ring was still in its place. Only now, it seemed to have a faint glow to it. However, a slight flutter of hope entered his chest as he recognized that glow. It was grace. Angelic grace. Healing angelic grace.

Dean ran down the stairs, glancing quickly at the guinea pig. “Sammy, do you think maybe?” he started, not daring himself to even finish the sentence. Only one way to find out, Sam squeaked, eyeing the ring cautiously before looking at Cas.

Clutching the piece of jewelry in his hand tightly, Dean sat back down next to Cas, holding him in his arms. His mouth was still open, when he had taken his last breath. Trying not to get any hopes up, Dean slowly opened the cap of the ring, pouring the glowing blood into Cas’ mouth.

“Please. Please work,” he prayed, hoping that God or any other angel that was listening would hear him. He didn’t even know what he was looking for. He had never brought someone back from the dead.

A minute passed and nothing happened. Cas stayed still and Dean felt his heart splinter even further. It was a waste then, only wishful thinking. But still, it –

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by a small burst of light emanating from Cas’ side. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. The light grew in magnitude, spreading throughout the room, the centre of it coming from the wound. He had to shield his eyes eventually, the light blinding him.

Finally, the light disappeared, allowing him to see again. Dean blinked, his eyes adjusting back to the light in the room. He felt movement in his arms, and his heart stopped.

Cas’ eyes fluttered quickly, locating him. “Cas?” Dean asked, not believing it was true.

Cas just smiled at him. “Hey, assbutt.”

Dean let out a strangled noise, pulling Cas up and protectively into his arms, holding him in a smothering hug. He felt Cas’ arms wrap around him and his grip tightened. Cas was alive. He was here with him and he was alive. Dean buried his head in his shoulder, momentarily taking it all in. He pulled back, looking at his bright blue eyes, once again filled with life and sparkling. “You goddamn son of a bitch. Don’t you ever do that to me again, you hear?” he ordered, his tears ruining his stern command.

Cas only nodded at him, still smiling. Dean didn’t ever want to let him out of his sight again. “You know, I forgot. There was something that Meg wanted me to give to you at the festival,” Cas said suddenly, staring intently at him.

Dean looked at him incredulously. “Really? Now? You suddenly remember something she-,” Dean started, but was cut off by Cas’ lips crashing against his own. His eyes widened, shock making him hesitate for a fraction of a second, before he closed his eyes, returning the kiss.

Cas was the first to pull back, leaving Dean stunned in place. He swallowed, opening his eyes, only to see Cas staring at him with that inquisitive look of his, eyes questioning. “Well,” he stammered out like a fool, his throat dry. “I’m going to have to thank her the next time I see her for that gift.”

Cas grinned. “Would you like another?” Dean didn’t even respond. He just grasped Cas by the neck and pulled him in, slotting their lips together. God, it was everything Dean had ever hoped for. The man he loved was in his arms, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

When they finally parted, they were both left gasping for air. Dean pressed his forehead to Cas’, leaning against him like a lifeline, smiling like a lunatic. I did not need to see that, Sam squeaked, disgusted.

“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean laughed, the dopey grin on his face never wavering.

Cas gestured with his head. “Let’s get out of here, shall we, your Highness?” Dean ducked his head at the terminology, or it might’ve just been the way Cas said it. Or it could’ve been just Cas being Cas and the fact that his lips were swollen from kissing. Regardless, his face was heating quickly and he wanted to pretend to keep his cool demeanor.

“Of course. Whatever you say, Castiel,” Dean drawled teasingly. He fixed Dean with a glare, which he pointedly ignored, as he stood, lending his hand out to Cas to help him up, who took it without any hesitation, interlocking their fingers.

Dean snorted. “I guess this means now I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Cas rolled his eyes fondly. “Let’s get your things and get out of here before it goes to your head.”

He grinned at him, knowing mischief was in his eyes. “Too late.”

Chapter Text

“Are you ready?” Cas asked Dean, holding his hand tightly.

“Oh yeah, sure. Meeting your parents for the first time after having not seen them for 21 years is something I’ve always been ready for. What do you think, Cas?” he snapped, rubbing a hand through his hair. Cas just gave his hand a small squeeze, before pulling him in for a hug. Dean buried his head in the crook of his neck, wrapping his hands tightly around his back. Dean wasn’t actually angry at Cas, just stressed. He sighed heavily as he leaned into him. “I’m sorry. I just… It’s been so long since I saw them that I don’t even remember them. What if they don’t like me?”

“Hey, it’ll be alright. I’ll be here through everything. They will love you, just like I do,” Cas reassured, kissing the side of his jaw. Dean felt his heart swell, hearing his words. It was still so new to be able to openly say he loved Cas, or to hear that Cas loved him. Dean just hoped he was right, that they would like him. He wanted to impress them somehow. “Maybe don’t blackmail them though during your first interaction. Best to leave that for at least the third.”

He chuckled lightly, pulling back to look down at Cas, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What, why not? It worked wonders with you. I can see no better way to leave a lasting impression.” It had certainly been quite effective for the two of them.

Cas rolled his eyes, and Dean grinned wider. He could tell he was trying to suppress a smile. “If you want your lasting impression to be ‘man raised in a tower is crazy’ then yes, it will be quite successful. At least, that’s what mine is.”

Dean scoffed, pressing a finger to his chest. “You’re the one who broke in to a miscellaneous tower unexpectedly-”

“I needed a place to hide!” Cas interjected defensively.

“- After stealing an artifact from the king and queen of the kingdom. And you call me the crazy one?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to counter. Cas just scrunched up his nose, and huffed, frowning. Dean did his best not to start laughing, as he looked terribly cute.

“Well, regardless of which of us is more crazy than the other, this is going to be fine, I promise,” he deflected quickly. Dean immediately caught on to his distraction, letting out a small snort, but he said nothing of it as he grabbed Cas’ hand.

As if on cue, Bobby opened the doors, peeking his head through to the balcony they were standing on. “You boys ready?” Dean didn’t answer, just nodded. Bobby had been extremely supportive in the past few days. When they arrived back in the capital and told him that he was the prince, it was a moment he would always remember.

In the little time he had known Bobby, he had been fairly gruff, but still caring. But when the older man had heard that he was Prince Henry, he had wrapped him tightly in a hug, and Dean could’ve sworn there had been tears in his eyes when he pulled away. Apparently, he had been very good friends with King John in the past and had been like an uncle to Dean in his youth, even if Dean couldn’t remember the man.

Bobby had even clapped Cas on the shoulder, thanking him for bringing his nephew back home. Dean smiled at the interaction, happy to see Bobby accepting of Cas. He liked the man, and was looking forward to getting to know his uncle again, but it was important that he also appreciated Cas.

Even now, Bobby was the one who volunteered to tell the king and queen about their son’s return. It just felt right, considering who he had been to both Dean and the king.

Right now though, Dean’s grip tightened immensely in Cas’ hand as the doors began to slowly swing open. He was sure Cas probably had lost feeling in his hand by that point, but he didn’t think about it. He couldn’t do this – it was too much. He was going to faint or vomit, or maybe sprint away if he could.

Cas gave his hand a supportive squeeze. “Just breathe, Dean,” he whispered quietly, as the doors opened fully, revealing a man and woman.

No one said a word, as King John and Queen Mary stepped out onto the balcony with them. If he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he was breathing, despite Cas’ encouragement. He just stood frozen, watching his parents. Cas gave his hand another squeeze before letting go, stepping back behind him so he could have a moment alone with his parents. He couldn’t escape the small whimper that escaped his throat as Cas let go, even if he was directly behind him, leaning against the railing.

Dean stood frozen as the queen, his mom, approached him hesitantly. She was staring at him with wide eyes, as if he were a frightened rabbit, and he honestly didn’t know if he looked any better. “It’s you,” he breathed out, as he suddenly recognized her. “You’re the one from my dreams.”

Suddenly realizing what he said, how those were his first words to his mom, Dean put his hands out in front of him to explain, starting to become frantic, even if she gave a him a slightly puzzled look. “That came out wrong. It’s just, I’ve seen you through the years when I’d get hurt and you’d sing to me. But not in a creepy way – in a normal, comforting way, and now, it’s actually you here in front of me and not just a figment of my imagination and…” he rambled aimlessly, trying to make himself seem better in front of his mother.

Dean bent his head down and placed it in his hands, embarrassed. “Oh God, this is going so wrong,” he muttered, not knowing how to salvage his impression on his mother. To his surprise, there was a soft touch over top of his hands. He had been expecting a grimace or look of disgust as he looked up out of his hands. He was not expecting to see the queen staring at him, her eyes hopeful.

“What song was it that I sang to you?” she asked, her tone serious.

“Uh, I don’t know if there was an actual title to it or not. But it started as ‘Carry on my wayward son,’” he explained, hoping that helped. His mother gasped quietly, as her eyes started to shine with tears.

She placed a hand on his cheek and Dean leaned into the touch, wanting to remember everything he could about his mom and this moment for years to come. “Just look at how you’ve grown. Oh, my beautiful brave boy,” she exclaimed before wrapping her arms around him.

Dean stood frozen for a second, before he returned the hug, tightly squeezing his mother. “Hi Mom,” he whispered, emotion clouding his voice. He could feel his mom begin to cry as she held onto him.

He looked up to see his father, his real father, staring at them in disbelief and wonder. “Hey Dad,” he said casually, not wanting to associate his father with Metatron in any way. His acknowledgement seemed to break his father out of whatever trance he had been in, as he blinked and immediately rushed towards them, wrapping both of them in his arms.

Dean didn’t know when he had started to cry, but it didn’t matter. He had found his parents after all these years and it was incredible.

His dad was the first to pull back, leaving the three of them all teary-eyed. “When Bobby had come and told us you were alive, I didn’t believe him. After all, this was our first time talking in years and then he tells me my son is alive. But seeing you, there is no doubt about it. Welcome home, Henry,” his father said, smiling at him unabashedly.

“Actually, I go by Dean now. I know that officially, my name is still Henry, but I prefer Dean,” he amended.

“Dean?” his mom asked, as if testing it out. She smiled at him. “It suits you.” He let out a sigh of relief, glad that his mom had no qualms about his preference of name. Henry just didn’t fit him, at least not anymore.

His father also nodded at the name, but his face began to fall. “I just can’t believe it’s really you, after all this time. We thought you had passed away all those years ago.”

His mom elbowed her husband. “What your father is trying to ask is how did you manage to survive all this time? It’s truly a miracle to us to see you here again.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yep, still alive. I never would’ve made it here if it weren’t for one person in particular,” he started. He turned behind him to Cas, leaning against the railing. He looked shocked that Dean was acknowledging him, his eyes widening. Dean just reached out his hand, pulling Cas to him. “Mom, Dad. I’d like to introduce you to someone very special. This is Castiel Novak. He’s the one who found me and saved me.”

“Hello there,” Cas greeted, bowing to his parents. If Dean wasn’t so excited for Cas to meet his parents again after all this time, he would have made fun of him for the formal greeting.

“Castiel? That’s a peculiar name. Didn’t we once know a Castiel?” His dad asked his wife.

She nodded. “Yes, we did! It was your imaginary friend actually, the one who you always said you’d play with at random points during the day, but no one ever saw the boy,” his mother supplied, looking at Dean.

Cas flushed. “I am still the same boy who knew your son all those years ago. I wasn’t quite an imaginary friend, but more of someone who didn’t want to be seen by others at the time,” he explained. “It was merely coincidence that I met Dean again and was able to learn who he had been, Your Majesties. I saved him as much as he saved me.”

Dean smiled fondly as his mom nearly tackled Cas in a hug, while his dad held him to his side. He heard a small yelp, while Cas seemed to not know how to be proper in this situation, causing Dean to laugh. “You brought our son home to us. That is more than we could ever ask for,” his mom thanked. She pulled back, leaving Cas still frozen.

His dad hugged Cas next, while Dean just watched, a smirk growing on his face, as Cas once again did not move. “I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you for saving Dean. Thank you,” the king said, standing beside his wife.

At least this time, Cas actually responded. “I don’t need any repayment. Meeting Dean again and getting to know him after all this time is reward in itself.” He felt his face begin to flush.

It was Dean’s turn to hug Cas. He just needed the familiarity, as he felt quite overwhelmed from meeting his parents. Cas’ hands were a steady weight on his back as he held him tightly. He pulled back, facing his parents again, even as he kept Cas close to his side. He wrapped his arm around Dean’s back too. “I couldn’t have done anything without Cas. Without him, I don’t know where I’d be,” Dean explained to his parents. He truly didn’t know where he would be at the moment. Still in the tower maybe? Or possibly Metatron was thinking about getting rid of him after he had turned 25. Who was to say?

“Well, thank you, Castiel. We are in your debt,” the queen said.

“No, Your Majesty, I-,” Cas started.

“Please. There is no need for such formalities, for myself or my husband. Just Mary and John will do,” his mom explained. She winked at Dean. “After all, it seems the two of you have grown quite close.”

“Me and him? I’d hardly say close. More like business partners. That’s all,” Dean said jokingly. He yelped as he felt a sharp pinch on his waist. He glared at Cas, who was the perfect portrayal of innocence.

“Does that make your father and I business partners too, then?” the queen joked, making the king scoff, while Dean felt his cheeks warm.

“Castiel, may I ask you a question?” his father asked, as if he couldn’t just demand an answer. Dean thought it endearing that he wanted to make sure it was okay with Cas first before asking.

“Of course, Your – er… I mean. Of course, John,” Cas replied, fumbling on the title. Dean didn’t even have to look at him to know he was uncomfortable referring to the king by his first name, but it was something to get used to.

“If we’ve never met, then why do you look so familiar? I swear I’ve seen you before,” his dad stated, looking inquisitively at Cas. His grip on Dean’s waist tightened.

“That was actually something I was going to bring up,” Dean started. He swallowed. “You see, the thing is, you probably have seen Cas here before, just not as Cas.”

“What do you mean, honey?” His mom asked. Dean glanced at Cas, to see he had gone slightly pale.

“Well, he-,” Dean started, but a loud commotion drew him short. It was coming from inside the doors to the castle. He could make out some yelling, and what sounded distinctly like Bobby cursing, before the doors to the balcony burst open. His stomach dropped as Gordon marched through onto the balcony with a slew of guards in his wake. Dean automatically pushed Cas behind him, being a barrier between him and the guards. Cas grabbed his hand, being a connecting lifeline for both of them.

“What is the meaning of this, Captain?” His father demanded, bewildered by the spectacle. Dean glanced at his mother, who was also confused by the guards.

The captain bowed to them, before explaining. “I apologize for the intrusion, my King, but I must insist you get behind my soldiers at once, as there is a very dangerous criminal in your midst.” Dean only gripped Cas tighter. He wouldn’t give up without a fight. “He escaped from the dungeons a number of days ago and has been missing ever since then. I can only assume now that he has returned, it is to harm you both.”

King John looked puzzled at the predicament. “Who is the wanted criminal?”

The captain pointed in their direction. “Castiel Novak, better known as Jimmy Shurley. Wanted for multiple accounts of treason, as well as stealing and an assortment of other crimes against the kingdom and the royal family. He was to be executed nine days ago before he escaped.”

“Is this true, Castiel?” his father asked, his tone not revealing any emotion as to what he was thinking.

“It’s true, Your Majesties. I made many mistakes in the past, and I will still be held accountable for my actions. But should I not be given a trial at the very least, and not sent to the gallows right away?” Cas explained.

“I was just about to tell you, I swear. Cas had been a thief in the past, but he’s different now. He’s changed,” Dean tried, as the guards began to circle them, pushing in.

“Nonsense. Arrest him. His execution will be tomorrow at dawn,” Gordon commanded.

Dean faltered, clutching Cas closer, looking to his mom, as his dad was still watching with a concerned look on his face. “Please Mom. I promise you, I will explain everything and how we got here, but he’s not that person anymore. I know Cas, and he would never hurt you or me,” Dean pleaded, looking into her eyes, as the guards began to press in around them. She stared back, unwavering, before she nodded.

“Do not touch him,” the queen ordered, frowning at the soldiers. The guards halted and immediately straightened, obeying the order at once, waiting to see what else she said. Dean held his breath, holding onto Cas tightly, wanting to know what his mom would say.

“Your Majesty, I must insist that-” Gordon tried to interject, but was silenced with a wave of her hand.

“Captain, why was the man not given a trial?” Mary asked, her voice confident and regal. The silence that spread across the balcony was sudden and sharp.

“Your Majesty, he has been on the run for 10 years now and yet just over a week ago was our first time capturing him in the past decade. He went as far as to steal the prince’s amulet two weeks ago now. He is dangerous and not worthy of a trial,” Gordon explained, gesturing to Cas.

The queen rose to her full height. Even though she was much shorter than Gordon, she still looked down on him. “Captain, we are nothing, if not a just kingdom. But executing someone without a trial, regardless of their crimes, is appalling behavior, especially from a man with your credentials.”

The captain bowed his head shamefully. “My apologies, my Queen. I just believed that you wouldn’t wish to hear-”

“My husband and I will decide what we do or do not wish to listen to for trials. However, seeing as we are both here now, I believe now is as good a time as any to listen to Castiel, where he can present himself before us,” his mom stated, leaving no room for questions in her tone.

Gordon seemed to have a war within himself, evidently not appreciating the queen’s order for Cas to have a trial. It was a few moments before he sighed, admitting defeat. Dean felt his panic begin to rise. Why did Cas need to have a trial? Couldn’t they just free him?

His mom motioned for him to step out of the way, so they could speak to Cas face-to-face. Dean’s grip tightened, not wanting Cas to face their judgment. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, as he turned to Cas, who gave him a small smile, nodding. Dean frowned, not wanting to let him go, but he accepted his wishes, stepping aside, letting him stand before his parents to await their final decision. He just hoped they would listen to Cas.

“Castiel Novak,” his father’s voice boomed throughout the balcony. Dean didn’t stop staring at Cas, who kept his gaze forward. He kept his face neutral, but Dean could see the way his jaw clenched slightly. He was nervous. “You have been brought before the court on multiple accounts of crimes against the kingdom.”

“Mom, please. Can’t you just let him go?” Dean whispered, standing beside her, while his father stood directly in front of Cas.

His mom gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry honey, but no one is above the law. We have to do this properly.” Dean sighed dejectedly, as he was forced to watch Cas face consequences for his actions over the years.

Gordon whispered in his dad’s ear, as the king nodded. “It has been brought to our attention that you face charges of burglary, treason, theft, scamming, assault, and attempted murder. Do you deny these?” King John asked, keeping a straight face. Dean wished he could tell his dad how they were all wrong, how Cas was no longer that person, but it would be of no use.

Cas took a deep breath. “No, Your Majesty. Except for attempted murder, I do not deny these crimes,” he admitted.

A frown grew on his father’s face, while a smile grew on the captain’s. Dean wanted to scream at them both. “I see,” his dad said quietly. He stared at Cas, before glancing at Dean quickly. Something flashed in his eyes quickly, before turning back to Cas.

“These accusations against you are quite steep, Castiel. Without a proper witness to testify to a change of heart, I’m afraid I have no choice but to hand you over to the captain,” the king declared.

Dean perked up, as his father glanced at him for a half second. He was moving before his brain caught up with his body, causing him to scramble in front of the king. He straightened himself, clearing his throat, as he stood in front of the assembly of guards and his parents. “I will speak for his actions, sir,” he stated, trying to seem distinguished.

“I will also attest for this boy’s change, Your Majesty,” a voice called out. Dean smiled at Bobby, seeing the older soldier step forward, coming to stand beside him.

Gordon growled from where he was standing. “My King, he has admitted to the crimes. Is it truly necessary to ask for a testimony?” he argued, clearly trying to find any way to get Cas convicted.

His dad glared at the captain. “Captain, it is perfectly acceptable for someone to speak on behalf of the convicted. We are a kingdom of second chances for everyone. Who needs it more than someone who has been on the run for 10 years?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the captain grumbled, not arguing further.

The king directed his attention back at the two of them. “Now is your time to explain how the accused has changed. Mr. Singer, you will go first, followed by Henry.” Dean was surprised at his father’s formality, but if it let Cas go free, he was fine with it.

Bobby cleared his throat before starting. “I’ve known this boy since before he was a wanted criminal. The first time I met him, he tried to rob my carriage, but was unsuccessful. Since then, I’ve been chasing him as he continued to perform different crimes throughout the kingdom with his two partners. The most recent crime was stealing the prince’s amulet from the castle.”

Dean’s parents looked cautious as Bobby spoke, eyeing Cas warily. Even he didn’t know how Bobby was going to fix his point, as so far, it seemed to only put Cas as a criminal. Gordon even looked pleasantly surprised by the statement.

However, the man continued. “Then, that boy met yer son. I don’t know what happened, but that criminal who I had been chasing for a decade ceased to exist. Instead, it was replaced by this odd, caring kid who fell in love. I even spent two days with these two idjits, making sure they didn’t do anything stupid. And y’know what I noticed?” Bobby said, gesturing to he and Cas. “I started that journey with Jimmy Shurley, but by the time it was done, all that was left was Castiel Novak.”

Dean smiled, as Bobby crossed his arms. “Your Majesties, I can say, without a doubt, that boy is not a wanted criminal. His past may have been rocky, but he ain’t that idjit anymore.” He stepped back, clapping his hand on Cas’ shoulder, before falling back beside him. “I say he’s a changed man.” Dean noticed Cas looked slightly embarrassed, but stood tall nonetheless.

His dad cleared his throat. Dean turned to see him giving a pointed look. He realized with a start it was his turn to give his story. He shifted on his feet. “When I first met Cas, we didn’t get along. The only reason we met was because he was running from Bobby, funny enough. We… came to a deal, so he could run off and do whatever he wanted with the amulet, but only after he took me to the capital. It was tense, that’s for sure,” he started.

He bit his lip, choosing the right words. “But then, as we continued on together, I got to know him, and we became friends. He showed me the real him, the one that wasn’t under constant pressure to avoid the royal guards. Just funny ol’ Castiel Novak. As we spent more time together, it was clear how different he was than when he was just ‘Jimmy Shurley.’”

Dean looked at Cas and grinned. “Jimmy Shurley was a man who couldn’t form a relationship in fear of getting hurt, who hung out with his brothers because he had no other choice, who climbed a tower in the middle of the woods just to get away with his crime. Castiel Novak is this guy who loves making flower crowns, who is cranky when he wakes up, who enjoys spending time with children. The man who saved my life, in more ways than one. While at one point they might’ve been the same person, they’re not anymore. All I see is Cas, and I hope you do too.”

Cas smiled softly at him, and if he wasn’t still waiting for his parents’ decision, Dean would’ve kissed him. Instead, he just looked to his parents, nodding to show he was done. His mom and dad spoke with one another, looking back at the two of them occasionally, before the king nodded.

“The court has come to our decision,” his dad announced, gathering everyone’s attention. Dean held his breath, waiting for his verdict. “When Castiel Novak came here today, he was a wanted man, known by his alias Jimmy Shurley. Now, by royal decree, Castiel Novak is henceforth in the care of Henry Winchester, better known as Dean. He is absolved of any accusations against him, and will be under the careful watch of Dean, who will confirm monthly reviews of his behavior,” the king declared. Dean grinned, satisfied with the results.

Dean didn’t even give Cas a chance to say a word before he wrapped him in a hug. “Can we please stop finding ourselves in life-threatening situations?” he asked. He really wasn’t sure his heart could handle it.

Cas laughed in his ear; his arms wrapped around Dean’s shoulders. “Yes, I would prefer if this did not become a regular occurrence, especially considering now I’m in your care.”

Dean pulled back, before giving Cas a quick kiss, winking. “You better believe you’re going to be in my care. No crimes on my watch, and you may get a reward. There’s more where that came from.”

A blush grew on Cas’ cheeks and Dean laughed, feeling lighter than he had all morning. Someone cleared their throat behind them, and Dean turned to see his mother giving him a pointed look. “Do either of you have any other potentially threatening news about yourselves that you’d like to share? If so, now is your chance.”

“Dean can’t swim but can eat an entire pie in one sitting. Not necessarily threatening to you, but to his own health,” Cas quipped. Dean shoved him in the shoulder, offended.

“Dude, you can’t tell them my weaknesses. Those are secrets, you know,” Dean shushed, crossing his arms across his chest defensively.

His mom rolled her eyes. “Of course you have a sweet tooth. You got that from your father.” She gestured to her husband, who let a noise of indignation.

“I resent that,” his dad said, though he was smiling.

Dean grinned. “Does that mean you and I can have a pie-eating contest? Charlie will gladly-” he started, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps rushing.

He barely had time to think before there was a flurry of motion. Dean blinked, surprised to see Bobby fall to the ground, a dagger protruding from his shoulder, while Gordon still had his arm up from the throw. “Guards, arrest the captain immediately!” his father’s voice bellowed. The captain barely put up a fight, instead seething.

“Castiel Novak should not be allowed to live! He is a menace to society; a monster! I’d be doing the world a favor by killing him,” Gordon shouted, as he was led off into the palace to be brought to a cell.

“Bobby, are you alright?” Dean asked, his brain finally registering what had just happened in the span of seconds.

“Do I look alright to you?” the older man grunted. Dean outstretched his hand and thankfully, the man took it, pulling himself up.

“You saved my life Bobby,” Cas thanked. It was true. If he hadn’t been there and taken the knife, it would have struck Cas in the back.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I ain’t dead, so that’s the end of that. Now, don’t any of you go telling my wife this or you’ll be dead before sundown,” Bobby grumbled, clutching his arm. Immediately, one of the other soldiers came to his side to help support him.

“Take the new captain of the guards to the infirmary, assuming he will accept the position, as our previous captain suddenly finds himself out of the job,” the king called, a glint in his eyes. Dean absolutely agreed with his dad’s decision and supported it fully. He would’ve laughed at Bobby’s reaction – a look of pure shock – if the man hadn’t just saved Cas’ life a few minutes prior and deserved whatever respect he could show.

Bobby cleared his throat, even as he leaned on the guard beside him, blood trickling from his shoulder. “I’d be glad to accept the position, Your Majesty,” he said reverently. He walked with the rest of the soldiers out the door. As it was just the four of them once again on the balcony, Dean heard Bobby shout from inside the castle, “And tell that idjit son of yours to kiss his damn boyfriend, will ya?”

Dean smirked, pulling Cas close to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Well, I don’t need to be told twice,” he remarked, before kissing him deeply. Cas relaxed into the kiss, making a content noise in the back of his throat that made Dean feel like he was floating.

Someone, once again, cleared their throat, and Dean pulled back, forgetting he was still with his parents. Cas had a light flush coating his cheeks and he bit his lip, trying not to smile. “Now that we’re alone, I think it’s time we hear the whole story of how you two met, don’t you think?” his mom stated, a no-nonsense look in her eyes.

“Well, how much time do you have? It’s not exactly a short story,” Dean asked, truly not knowing if they had to summarize or if they could share everything.

“We have time. We want to know everything, the good and the bad,” his dad said, giving a quick glance at Cas. “Any other surprises to expect? Are you secretly a witch, Dean, with magical powers?”

He gave a hearty laugh, Cas cracking up beside him. It wasn’t even far from the truth, or at least, he had powers. His parents shared a look of confusion as the two of them couldn’t control their laughter, not understanding the reasoning.

Eventually, they settled enough to breathe and talk normally. Dean wiped a tear from his eyes, still giggling. “It’s best if we start from the beginning, when I was born,” he started. His mom’s eyebrows shot up, but she listened intently as he launched in.

Chapter Text

Castiel paced anxiously, eyeing the clock tower above the cathedral. If Dean wasn’t there soon, they were going to be late for their appointment. He sighed heavily, silently chastising himself. He knew better than to leave Dean alone with Charlie when they had somewhere to be. The two of them could get lost together for hours and not know any time had passed at all. He was thrilled that Dean had a best friend to rely on, besides himself and Sam, but now was not one of those times.

Instead, he tapped his finger against his arm, leaning against the side of the building, trying to remain calm. He was getting worked up over nothing. Dean knew the importance of this meeting and would be on time, he was sure of it.

In the meantime, Castiel was left to grow more frantic by the second, waiting for him.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, when it had really been mere minutes, Dean came rushing down the street, waving. He stopped in front of him, panting slightly, with a grin on his face. “Hey Cas,” he wheezed, as if he had spent the entire journey running.

Castiel frowned, crossing his arms. “You’re late,” he chastised, looking at the time. Dean’s eyebrows shot up incredulously, waving him off.

“No way. I still have three minutes and even then, I’d be exactly on time. If you think about it, I’m technically early,” Dean reasoned, standing straighter as he glanced at the clock. “Unlike you, Mr. Showing-Up-Thirty-Minutes-Early, I knew exactly when I had to be here. Plenty of time to spare.”

He glared, grumbling. “It was 25 minutes, not 30.”

Dean just smirked, nodding his head. “Of course. 25 minutes early. My bad.” He held out his hand, gesturing to the doors. “Come on, let’s do this thing.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, even as he took his hand, letting Dean lead the way. “In the future, please try to be a bit earlier for my sense of well-being. This is too important to miss,” he pleaded, as they walked into the lobby. It was a fairly decent building, with bright open spaces and an inviting atmosphere. He was glad the kingdom had at least spent a good portion of money making sure the orphanage was well-kept.

Dean put a hand to his chest, offended. “Do you really think I would miss this for the world? Wow Cas. I’m hurt. Really hurt.” He pouted his lip, as if that would get him off the hook. Castiel would not have it though, as he refused to accept Dean being late for their appointment. “Aw, come on. Even if I had been a minute or two late, I’m sure Jody wouldn’t mind.”

He gave Dean a pointed look. “I may love you, but if you were late to this, I would not hesitate to kill you myself.”

Dean laughed, as they walked up the stairs, some children running by in the meantime, saying hi. Castiel found the attention so fascinating. To think he had been famous throughout the kingdom a wanted thief and now here he was, his hand in the prince’s, children vying for their attention in awe.

“Hey there,” Dean greeted, waving to the kids as they crowded around the two of them. Castiel watched fondly, seeing how with a simple greeting, he had enraptured each of the children, as they looked thrilled.

“Prince Dean, what are you doing here?” one of the boys asked, almost in awe of the man. Dean grinned at him, and he felt his heart swell.

“Well, Cas and I have to go meet Ms. Mills. We have something very important to discuss with her,” Dean explained, winking at him. Castiel squeezed his hand, recognizing the importance of today.

A girl, maybe 4 years old, held a stuffed bunny in her hands and pushed her way to the front of the group, getting both his and Dean’s attention. He tried to stifle a laugh as she squirmed through the crowd. She rubbed her nose against her arm, looking up at them with big doe eyes. She pointed at him with her bunny’s arm. “Awe you going to mawwy the pwince?” she asked innocently.

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up at the question, looking at Dean, who was turning a bright red, his freckles becoming increasingly highlighted against the pink. He smiled at him, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the idea. “Not quite yet,” he started to respond, leaning down to her level, motioning her to come closer so he could whisper in her ear. She immediately followed his instructions, all the kids gathering in too, trying to hear what he said. “But someday soon, I’m planning on asking him. That’s our little secret though, alright? Prince Dean doesn’t know yet.”

The girl nodded, a grin splitting across her face. A couple of the kids began to giggle with excitement, as he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest, as Dean had a curious look on his face. “Now, unfortunately, Prince Dean and I must be going. We don’t want to keep Ms. Mills waiting,” Castiel announced.

The children pouted, clearly not wanting them to go. Dean smiled at them. “Don’t worry. We’ll be back soon. We can’t have you all having too much fun without us, now can we?” The kids seemed to be appeased by his explanation, as they parted, letting the two of them through.

“Bye!” They all called, waving at the two of them, Castiel and Dean both being sure to say proper goodbyes too. As they rounded the corner, Jody’s office down the hall, Dean cast him a side glance.

“What did you say to them that got them giggling?” he asked. Castiel looked at him, studying his face. Though it was the mask of innocence, he knew Dean better by now to see when he was truly curious. He really wanted to know the answer, but he wasn’t going to get it.

He grinned, kissing Dean on the cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he replied, turning on his heel, walking quickly the last steps to Jody’s door and knocking before Dean could interject.

“Come in!” a voice called from behind the door. Castiel threw a winning smirk at Dean, who pointed a finger at him accusingly.

“This is not over,” he whispered quietly, as Castiel opened the door. He was not letting Dean know what he said, no matter what. However, that was a matter for another time. For now, he held the door open for Dean and sat down in the seat next to him, the two of them sitting across from Jody.

“How are you boys doing?” she asked, a large grin on her face.

Dean smiled, placing his hands behind his head. “I’d say we’re doing pretty good. Arrived here on time and everything,” he said.

Jody raised an eyebrow, looking at Castiel. “He was nearly late, wasn’t he?”

“Hey,” Dean interrupted as Castiel laughed.

“Yes, he barely made it in time. I was worried he wasn’t going to remember,” Castiel responded, placing a hand on Dean’s arm. “Not all of us can have such a good memory in our old age.”

Dean glared at him, shoving his hand off. Castiel smiled, hearing Jody laughing quietly. “I didn’t forget. I lost track of time,” he mumbled.

Castiel tilted his head to the side. “Just like you lost track of time and ended up being an hour late to your own celebration?” he retorted, raising an eyebrow, daring him to counter.

It was true. To celebrate Dean’s return, the king and queen had hosted another festival, which lasted for an entire week. The first day of the party was to begin with Mary and John presenting Dean before the kingdom as the prince. However, he never showed up.

It had taken almost an hour before Castiel found Dean asleep in a small alcove. He had been less than impressed at Dean’s lack of recognition of time management.

Now, Dean’s ears started to turn pink, as he crossed his arms in front of him. “Shut up,” he grumbled, sticking his tongue at Castiel. He rolled his eyes fondly, turning back to Jody.

“Ignoring his time management skills, should we begin the meeting?” Castiel asked, bringing them back to their purpose.

Jody nodded, pulling out two files. “Yes. I think it’s best we get started.” She looked to Dean seeing if he objected, Castiel doing the same, but he only huffed, signaling his agreement. She smiled. “Excellent. To begin, I just want to remind you about how life-changing this decision is, not just for yourselves, but for the kids as well.”

Castiel listened, placing his hand back on top of Dean’s, who gently squeezed it. “It is a huge responsibility to become parents, especially for not just one, but for two children. You become the constants in their lives. You have to give love to them unconditionally and care for them through everything. Whether with necessities like food and clothes, or through their emotions, for example, you need to be there for them,” Jody explained.

“I’ve seen the way you to love each other. I have no doubts about that part. But now, you have two new children to take care of. You need to be role models for them and help them grow to become the best version of themselves.” He suppressed a smile, thinking how Dean would be a role model. He knew the man cared with all of his heart, but he was also so utterly ridiculous at times. “You’re going to grow with them and change with them too. Does this all make sense?”

Both he and Dean knew the importance of this decision. They had spent a lot of time talking about it and knew in their hearts what they were doing. “We understand, Jody,” he stated, verbally affirming.

She smiled, nodding to herself. “Very well. Now onto the fun part,” she stated dryly, pulling out a stack of papers. “Signatures.”

Castiel and Dean spent the next two hours or so going through the papers with Jody, making sure they signed the proper agreements and contracts, ensuring they were legally completing the adoption. They had gone over signatures ahead of time, as Dean hadn’t ever had to sign something before. Each day, Castiel found he showed him something new and he appreciated every second, watching Dean’s wonder and fascination with the world grow.

By the time they were done the stack, his wrist was sore and his fingers cramped. “Are signatures usually this painful?” Dean asked, also flexing his hand to relieve the tension. “I swear writing wasn’t ever this bad.”

Castiel laughed, shaking his wrist. “Just wait until your parents make you write down a royal decree. Your hand will hurt for the rest of the day,” he joked. He had written a couple of essays when he was younger, prior to becoming a thief, and they were painful. Dean would probably crumple up the piece of paper in frustration before he was finished.

“Don’t worry, you two. Just one final signature from both of you, and then the process is complete,” Jody reassured, sliding a piece of paper across the desk. Dean took it first, reading through it, before signing his name at the bottom. He handed it to Castiel, who read it carefully.

It confirmed the legality of their identities and the logistics of what name the kids would take. They had agreed that they would take Winchester as opposed to Novak, as Dean was the prince and some day, they would be eligible for the throne. At the bottom were the names of who they wanted to adopt. He smiled, seeing Jack and Claire Kline written boldly on the sheet. He wrote his name on the form, just under Dean’s and handed it back to Jody with a grin.

“Well, that settles it then. Congratulations Dean and Castiel on your adoption. Would you like to go get your new kids?” Jody asked, standing.

They stood together. Dean grinned widely, pulling him in for a big kiss. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s back and melted into the touch, savoring the feeling, before Dean pulled back, his eyes bright. “Are you ready?”

He smiled at Dean, placing his palm against his cheek. “More ready than I’ve ever been.”

They followed Jody down the hallway, walking past doors with children’s names on them, before stopping in front of their kids. Castiel held his breath, the anticipation building in him. Dean gripped him tightly, seemingly feeling the same. Jody smiled at them as she knocked on the door. “Jack? Claire? Are you ready?”

“Yes!” he heard two voices shout, and he smiled. Jody pushed open the door, revealing the two kids standing beside their small bags, both with wide smiles on their faces.

“Jack, Claire. I’d like you to meet your two new dads,” she announced.

Dean was the first to crouch down, opening his arms wide. “Come here, you squirts,” he said playfully. Castiel felt tears prick his eyes as their kids squealed, running into his open arms. Their kids. Never once in the past 10 years had he imagined he would ever have the chance to love someone again, let alone have a family. Now, he had the love of his life by his side and two kids who they adored.

Dean grabbed his hand suddenly and yanked him forward. He yelped slightly, being pulled into the group hug, but he didn’t hesitate for a second before wrapping his arms around Jack and Claire, just like Dean. The warmth in his chest was overflowing, as he held the most important people in his life in his arms.

“Do we still have to call you Castiel and Dean?” Claire asked, looking upset at her own question. Evidently, she didn’t want to call them by their first names.

Castiel shook his head, as he and Dean had already discussed this, wanting the choice be up to the kids. “Of course not, honey. You can call us whatever you wish.”

She took a moment to think before nodding. “Can I call you Dad?” she hesitated, looking at Dean.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine,” Dean replied, a soft smile on his face.

“Oh! How about you’re Papa then?” Jack added, looking to his sister for confirmation before looking at himself.

He smiled. “Papa sounds delightful, Jack.” It was more than delightful. To even be a father was amazing. Being called Papa was more than he could have ever hoped for.

“Does this mean we get to live in the palace?” Jack asked curiously, glancing between the two of them from the middle of their hug. Castiel smiled while Dean chuckled.

“Yes Jack. We’re all going to live in the palace together,” Dean answered, emotion clouding his tone. Castiel could tell even Dean was having a hard time keeping it together.

He was the first to pull back from the hug, moving to stand up, before a weight landed on his back, small arms wrapping around his neck. “Whoa!” Castiel cried out, holding onto the legs that were now securely fastened around his waist. He turned his head and saw Claire grinning at him.

“Let’s go, Papa, and beat Jack and Dad!” she urged, looking back at Dean and Jack. Castiel smiled, absolutely agreeing.

“Hold on tightly,” he warned quietly, before rushing off down the hall, right past Jody who was laughing in the doorway.

He heard an indignant shout from behind him. “Hey! What about the bags?” Dean yelled.

“I’m sure you’ll manage just fine!” he called back, as Claire laughed in his ear. He hurried down the stairs, looking back to see Dean and Jack trying to catch up at the end of the hall, Dean carrying all the bags.

“When we get back home, you are so in trouble, Cas,” Dean threatened loudly, but it only made him laugh harder, running out the front door with Claire.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, looking around. She hummed quietly, still holding on tightly.

“Let’s go see Charlie!” she said. He nodded, turning back behind him. Dean was glaring fiercely, holding the bags as Jack ran and caught up with them.

“We’re going to Charlie’s, Dean. Try not to be too long,” Castiel called, not giving him a moment to respond before running through the streets, Jack beside him keeping pace. Claire giggled the entire time, laughing with her brother.

It wasn’t too long before they arrived at Charlie’s. Jack opened the door, letting Castiel and Claire slip in quickly. “Hey guys! How are you doing?” Charlie greeted happily, before narrowing her eyes. “Where’s Dean?”

He let Claire down to the ground gently, letting her take a seat, before gesturing to the door. “I know you already saw him today, but the kids insisted we come see you and have some of your delicious dessert. He’ll be here shortly, don’t worry,” he reassured.

“Yeah! Dad got to carry our bags while Papa carried me! We ran all the way here,” Claire announced from her table, beaming. Jack took a seat beside her, while Castiel slid in beside him.

Charlie raised her eyebrows. “Papa?” she asked, a smile starting to grow on her face.

Castiel nodded. “Charlie Bradbury, meet Jack and Claire Winchester, official son and daughter of Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak,” he announced. Charlie squealed, pumping her fist in the air.

“That’s freaking amazing! I’m so happy for you guys,” she cheered, clapping. “In honor of this momentous occasion, your desserts will be on the house.”

“Everyone’s except his, the douchebag,” a voice called from the doorway. Castiel smiled as Dean walked in, holding the bags in his hands, looking slightly exhausted.

“Good to see you again too, Dean,” Charlie said amused, going to the back room, leaving Dean to sit with the rest of their family.

He took a seat next to Castiel dropping the bags on the ground. While Jack and Claire talked animatedly with each other, Dean pulled him close, planting a cheek on his cheek, before whispering in his ear. “You’re a dead man, Castiel Novak.”

Castiel turned his head, trying to replicate one of Dean’s signature smirks as he kissed him. “Those are bold words coming from the ticklish one of us. After all,” he whispered slyly against his lips, poking Dean in the side, causing him to squirm. “The children don’t know yet how wonderfully ticklish their dad is. Wouldn’t it be fun to tell them?”

Dean pouted, concern in his eyes at his little threat. “Come on, Cas. Don’t be cruel,” he griped. “At the very least, can you take the bags when we keep going? I don’t know what Jack and Claire put in there, but I swear they weigh like 100 bricks each.”

He tilted his head to the side, smiling softly. “For you, my dear, anything,” he admitted quietly, delighted at the small pink that came to Dean’s ears.

Dean coughed, a mischievous grin growing on his face, waggling his eyebrows. “Anything?” Castiel quickly realized just how much power he gave Dean with those words and shook his head, but it was too late. The damage was done, if the look in Dean’s eyes was anything to go by. He was going to deeply regret this. “Hey Jack? Claire?”

The two kids quieted, as their names were called. Castiel silently warned Dean to not say whatever it was he was about to say, but Dean ignored his look. He slung his arm around his shoulders, pulling him up to his side. “Papa agreed that he is going to give me his dessert, and then, when we’re done, he’s going to let me throw him into the lake, to show you two about one of the best memories we have together,” Dean announced.

Castiel shot him a vicious look, as the children smiled. “We heard Ms. Mills and Ms. Hanscum talking about that. Did you really come back completely soaked?” Jack asked, placing his elbows on the table, leaning in.

“We did. Cas pulled me in with him completely unjustly but it became one of our favorite memories. So that’s why I was thrilled when he told me he wanted to give you guys a demonstration,” Dean explained, his hold tightening around him.

Charlie took that moment to return back to their table, placing the desserts in front of them. “Cookies for the kids, and apparently two pieces of pie for Dean,” she said joyfully, placing two plates in front of Dean.

“Thanks Red. You’re awesome,” Dean called, beginning to dig into his dessert, the smirk never leaving his face as Castiel glared at him.

“You’re horrible, you know that?” he said quietly, crossing his arms.

Dean just grinned wider. “You’re the one that said anything,” he reasoned around a mouthful of pie.

He rolled his eyes, frowning. “Yes, but I didn’t mean getting thrown into the lake again.”

Dean only shrugged, somehow already done his first slice, as he began eating his dessert. “You need to specify next time.”

The kids slowly finished up their desserts, giving Castiel time to come up with a plan. If Dean wanted a re-enactment of when they were in the lake together, then a re-enactment he would get.

As they prepared to leave, saying their goodbyes to Charlie, Castiel leaned against Dean, letting his weight fall on him. “Whoa, what are you doing, Cas?” Dean asked, catching him before he fell.

He kept his face neutral. “You wanted to give the kids a demonstration. If I recall correctly, you carried me the entire way to the docks. You wouldn’t want to give them a false impression, would you?” he asked innocently.

Dean narrowed his eyes, while Jack and Claire looked up at them with wide eyes. “You carried Papa the whole way?” Claire asked.

“Carry him!” Jack urged, grinning.

He felt Dean sigh against him, but he was soon hoisted up in his arms and placed gently over his shoulder. “There. Now, do you two want to lead the way to the docks?” Dean relented, gesturing with his head. Castiel couldn’t see much from this angle besides Dean’s backside as well as whatever was behind them, but he assumed the children agreed, if the scampering of footsteps was any sort of signal.

Dean suddenly jostled him, and he gasped, his shoulder digging into his stomach. “Oh sorry. You were starting to slip and I didn’t want you to fall,” Dean reasoned, but Castiel could hear the smile in his tone.

“Oh, is that so?” he asked, reaching his hand out to poke Dean’s waist.

“Hey!” Dean called, jumping with the action. “Tickling me was not part of the original journey.”

Castiel shrugged, though he wasn’t sure Dean could see or feel the gesture. “Sorry. I thought I saw a bug and I didn’t want it to bite you,” he mocked, sounding as sarcastic as possible. He reached his hand out again. “Oh look, there’s another one.”

Dean swatted at him with his free hand, trying to keep him away. It only made him more persistent, as Dean started to walk quicker. “Cas, please. I might actually drop you if you keep doing that,” he stated.

Castiel sighed, dropping his hands. “If you insist, I will refrain. But know that I don’t forgive you for this.”

He could practically feel Dean’s smile. “Aw, come on, sweetheart. Of course you forgive me,” Dean said, before suddenly, Castiel felt a hard smack on his ass. He glared at Dean’s back, who was now beginning to chuckle, the vibrations rumbling through him. “What’s not to love?”

Castiel took a deep breath in, willing himself to relax. “For the sake of our children, I will let that slide this one time. In the future though, avoid doing that again or you may wake up missing very crucial body parts,” he threatened.

He heard Dean’s gulp, as the children’s voices started to catch up to him. “Duly noted,” Dean affirmed quietly. “But hey, you would miss those-”

“Do not test your luck, Dean,” Castiel declared firmly, putting an end to that conversation before Dean could add anything else.

“Here we are,” Claire exclaimed excitedly. He turned his head, trying to see past Dean. Sure enough, they were at the docks.

“So what now?” Jack asked.

“Now,” Dean started, shifting his grip, so Castiel was now being held in his arms in front of him. “Now is where I throw your dad in the lake.”

He didn’t fight back against Dean as he walked towards the edge of the dock, making his way to the water. “I hate you, you know that?” Castiel said quietly, eyeing the lake. He didn’t want to get wet.

Dean smiled, leaning his head down before kissing his nose. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

That was the only warning he received before suddenly, Castiel was launched into the air. He shrieked as he hit the water, feeling colder than it had been the last time. He resurfaced the lake, seeing his family watching him.

“That was amazing, Papa! Do it again!” Jack cheered, while Claire nodded enthusiastically. Dean stood just like the previous time, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Evidently, he hadn’t learned his lesson since before.

Castiel swam back to shore, shaking his head. “Well, it seems your dad forgot to mention the next part of the re-enactment,” he stated, striding towards Dean with a purpose.

He saw the exact moment Dean realized what he was doing as his face turned to immediate caution. “Nuh-uh. The plan was to show how you got thrown in the water, not how you dragged me in too,” he tried, backing away.

“Come on, Dean. The kids need to understand why you were completely wet too, right?” he looked at the two of them quickly, as they eagerly nodded, showing their agreement.

“We really don’t need to show them that part,” he pleaded, glancing away for half a second, giving Castiel his opportunity to strike. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Dean, rubbing the cold water into his bones. He saw Dean bite his lip, and heard the quiet whimper that escaped his throat. “Alright, that’s that. Can we go now?”

Castiel shook his head, pulling them both back just like before. “Don’t think you can get out of this so easily,” he whispered quietly, so only Dean could hear. Raising his voice, he directed his attention back to Jack and Claire. “You might want to pay attention. This is the fun part.”

“I hate to disagree with you, but oh man. I disagree,” Dean stated quickly, wrapping his arms around his neck like last time. Castiel smiled as he took the final steps backwards.

“Hold your breath,” he warned as he fell back, plunging them both into the frigid water. He pulled them up to the surface, Dean spraying him with tiny droplets as he shook the water from his eyes.

“You didn’t tell me it was so cold!” Dean complained, pressing against him more firmly.

Castiel laughed, holding onto him tighter. “You never asked.”

“Can we come in too?” Jack asked hesitantly, eyeing them. Castiel began to swim back to shore, still holding Dean in his arms.

“Sure you can. Just be cautious. The water is a bit cold at the moment so you may just want to dip your feet in, as opposed to getting completely drenched like your father and I,” he explained, as they reached a shallow enough depth to stand.

Jack nodded, taking off his shoes before stepping into the water slowly. He jumped back at the temperature. “It’s quite cold, isn’t it?” Dean remarked, fixing Castiel with a glare. “At least your dad warned you, unlike some people.”

He simply shrugged, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist. “It would’ve hardly been as fun if I had told you about the temperature.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean stated, placing his arm around Castiel. They watched as Jack still tried to get used to the water, while Claire took off her shoes.

Castiel recognized the mischievous look in her eyes, the same one Dean got, but didn’t even have a second to warn Jack as Claire ran into the water, splashing her brother entirely. The boy shrieked, as he was now drenched. “Ha! Catch me if you can!” she shouted, giggling wildly as she ran further into the water as quickly as she could.

Dean and Castiel watched as Jack, now fully wet, ran after his sister, splashing everywhere in the process. Castiel barely had time to close his eyes before he had a face full of water.

He sputtered slightly, wiping his face, as Dean chuckled, who had somehow been in the splash-free zone. Castiel glared, placing his hand against the water’s surface. With a grin, he sent a giant wave at Dean, hitting him directly in the face.

“Get him Papa!” Jack yelled, still running after Claire. Dean smiled, looking at their son.

“Oh, you think so Jack, do you?” he called out, rushing after the kid. Jack squealed as Dean grabbed him, holding him close before placing him on his shoulders. “Encouraging your dad to splash me? You should be the one splashing him.”

Jack immediately agreed, starting to splash water at Castiel who tried to swim away. “Two against one? I hardly call that fair,” he grumbled without any venom behind it, trying to get away as he was hit with wave after wave of water.

“I can help!” Claire volunteered, rushing towards him. He hoisted her up and placed her on his shoulders, so she could splash the other two.

“Now that we have better odds, this means war,” Castiel declared, narrowing his eyes at Dean who was only grinning.

“Bring it on, old man. Jack and I can take you two, any day,” Dean exclaimed confidently, his green eyes shining bright, as Jack began to assault them with water.

Castiel wasn’t sure how long their battle endured. In the end, it seemed no winner was found, as they were all equally soaked. They placed Jack and Claire back in the water, and the two began to chase each other again. Castiel smiled, just about to turn to Dean when he was pulled off his feet.

He immediately wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, the sudden change in position startling him. He looked up, expecting Dean to be smirking, but he was only smiling, watching the children play. “Can you believe it, Cas? Jack and Claire are our kids now. It just seems so unreal,” he said softly.

Castiel smiled up at him, shifting his position to hug Dean tighter. “Indeed, it seems rather extraordinary, doesn’t it?”

They continued in the water for a little bit longer, Dean still holding Castiel, before beginning their trek back to the palace as a family.

Chapter Text

Castiel smiled softly as he placed Dean down on their bed. He brushed some hair off his forehead, giving him a light kiss on his cheek. Dean barely reacted, just muttering a couple of soft noises before shifting on his side.

He pulled the blankets up, covering him to his shoulders, before retreating back out the door. He closed it softly, making sure not to disturb Dean. Walking down the hall, Castiel made his way to Claire and Jack’s room. Though they had the option to have separate rooms, the twins decided that they wanted to live in the same bedroom.

Castiel opened the door, seeing one of the two kids. Jack was awake in his bed, but barely, eyelids heavy. He looked around, seeing the balcony doors open, and knew Claire was looking outside. “Hello Papa,” Jack called to him, his voice tired.

He smiled, sitting down beside Jack on his bed. “Hello Jack. Did you have a good day?” Castiel asked, rubbing Jack’s arm.

The boy gave a small grin, his eyes closing further. “Yes, I did,” he murmured, nestling further in his sheets. Castiel bent down and gave him a small kiss on his forehead. Jack closed his eyes completely, turning on his side. “Goodnight, Papa.”

“Goodnight, Jack.” He got up and walked out the balcony doors, finding Claire leaning against the railing. She was just tall enough to look over, placing her arms over the rail.

“How is Dad?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet.

“He’s asleep, just like you should be,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. She shook her head.

“I don’t want to sleep yet,” Claire argued, turning to look up at him, a pleading look on her face. “Can we stay out here and watch the stars together?”

Castiel smiled, unable to say no. “For a few minutes,” he conceded, not needing much convincing. She grinned at him, turning back to looking up at the sky. He did the same, staring into the dark sky. He recognized some of the stars, but not many. Dean had mentioned that he charted stars while he was in the tower, one of the few books that Metatron had given him helping him out, so he was trying to teach Castiel what they were, but he was still unsuccessful in his learning for the most part.

Claire, on the other hand, was doing a better job at remembering than Castiel was. She pointed at one of the larger ones. “That’s the North Star. Dad called it Polaris. He said if you ever get lost, if you find the star, you can find your way back,” she explained.

Castiel nodded, remembering something to do with the North, but not the name or its purpose. “What about those ones?” he asked, pointing at a group of three stars in a row. He remembered Dean mentioning something about this one being connected with others around it.

“That’s the constellation Orion. The three stars make his belt,” Claire started. She gestured to a couple of other stars. “Dad says he was a hunter, and there, you can see his arms and shield.”

Castiel squinted, trying to make out what shape she was talking about. After a couple of seconds, he saw the shape, imagining the image. “Are you sure that is a shield? It looks like he is holding a giant rock.”

Claire laughed. “That’s what I told Dad, but he was sure it was a shield. That’s what his book said at least, so he is set on it.”

He tilted his head, grinning. “If Dean thinks it’s a shield, then he can believe it’s a shield. What matters is that you and I both know the truth,” he joked. She smiled up at him, before stifling a yawn. He raised an eyebrow. “Now, I think it’s time that you went to bed.”

Claire nodded, turning back to her room. Castiel followed, closing the doors behind him. He nearly chuckled, hearing Jack already snoring lightly. Claire climbed into her bed, fluffing up her pillow. He pulled the covers up, tucking her into bed.

“Can you say goodnight to Dad for me?” Claire asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. Castiel leaned down and kissed her forehead, brushing hair away from her face.

“Of course I will, Claire,” he whispered, being mindful that Jack was asleep. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

She nodded, snuggling deeper in her blankets. “Night Papa,” she murmured.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” Castiel said, blowing out the candle on the nightstand. He closed the door behind him, shutting it softly.

Castiel walked down the hallway, keeping his plan in mind. Meg was leaning against the wall at the end of the hall, her arms crossed. “I was wondering if you actually wanted me here for a reason or if you just wasted my time for the fun of it,” Meg quipped, her lips tilting up.

“I wasn’t expecting Dean to be exhausted quite like that,” Castiel said, making his way down the stairs, Meg at his side.

“It doesn’t sound like he has much stamina then.” she said, her tone light. “Definitely not one of the most exhausting activities you could be doing together.”

Castiel shot her a glare, even as his cheeks reddened. “Meg, please. I don’t even want to think about what you’re referring to,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.

She smirked, as they entered the library. “As if you two haven’t done the deed.” He narrowed his eyes, causing Meg’s smirk to widen. “Fine, I’ll drop the subject. For now.”

“Thank you,” he said, sitting down at one of the tables, glad for that conversation to be over. “Now, will you let me tell you why I wanted to meet you or are you going to continue being immodest?”

Meg waved him off, sitting down across from him. “Aw, come on, Clarence. You know you love me.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. “Yes, so you often tell me. I am beginning to question my sanity in that regard.”

She put a hand to her chest, batting her eyes. “Your flattery knows no bounds, Clarence,” Meg mocked. He stared at her, unrelenting. Finally, she rolled her eyes, leaning on the table. “Well, you’ve got my attention. Enlighten me.”

Castiel bit his lip, fumbling with the box in his pocket. “Well, I wanted your advice for this. You and I both know I am socially inept,” he admitted, pulling the box out and placing it on the table, sliding it across to her.

Meg raised her eyebrows, taking the box. She opened it, and her mouth dropped open. “Why, Clarence, I don’t know what to say.”

“Well? What do you think?” he asked, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt. Castiel hated being this anxious, but he deeply cared about Meg’s opinion. She was one of his closest friends after all, regardless of her brash nature.

“Since you’re being so generous, I accept your proposal,” she stated, her lips quirking up.

Castiel frowned, trying to mask his nervousness. “You’re hilarious, you know that?” he deadpanned.

Meg grinned, shrugging. “Now you’re just being a flirt.” He still didn’t react and she sighed. “Clarence, he will love it. Don’t worry about it.”

He tilted his head, throwing his hands up. “How am I not supposed to worry? I am just supposed to go up to the prince of the kingdom and say, ‘Hey. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?’” Castiel snapped. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves worsening. “I can barely even bring the idea up to you, of all people. How am I going to ask Dean to marry me?”

Meg snorted. “There you go with your flattery.”

“You know what I mean,” he griped. He placed his head in his hands. “What if he doesn’t want to get married? What if he says no? What will I do then?”

Castiel felt a light touch on his arm and looked up. Meg was smiling softly at him, one of the few times he saw anything other than her nonchalant, cold exterior. “Look. I’m going to say this once, and once only. If there is only one thing I know for certain, it is that the two of you love each other more than anything. It’s honestly sickening,” she said, adding a little bit of her usual sarcasm to the comment. She smiled a bit more, squeezing his arm. “He will say yes. You’re his unicorn, Clarence. You have nothing to worry about.”

He placed his hand over Meg’s, trying to convey how much her words meant to him. “Thank you, Meg.”

She withdrew her hand, crossing her arms. Her usual cocky façade fell back into place. “Well now that that’s over with, can I throw up?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Yes, Meg. I give you full permission to throw up, but only after I propose.”

“You’ll do great, Clarence. And if you want, I can help,” she suggested, a smirk growing on her face.

His eyes widened, shaking his head. “Unless helping means actually giving me advice on the best way to do this, I will pass, thank you.” He didn’t even want to know what kind of ‘help’ she may give. She and Gabriel could hold a competition to see who came up with more ludicrous plans.

“Do you really think I would do anything other than be helpful?” Meg asked, a glint in her eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. “Your version of helpful or my version of helpful?”

She just waved him off. “Since your confidence in me is overwhelming, I’ll even prove to you that I can help. So, here is my plan,” she began, placing her elbows on the table.

Castiel rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t even realize he had picked up the gesture from Dean. “Do I even want to know?” he asked cautiously.

“Of course not. That’s part of its brilliance. Now hush and let me explain,” Meg stated, shushing him. Knowing not to cross her, he wisely closed his mouth, hoping her plan would be decent. “We have two options. Here’s the first. You’re going to take Dean out on a date, as you usually do. Probably to Charlie’s bakery, or something mushy like that gallery you always rave about.”

He gave Meg a pointed look, which she ignored entirely. “You’re going to bring him to some place secluded, maybe with some flowers or something else equally as sickening. Then, before your confidence fades, you will propose to him then and there, and he will accept.”

She said it so definitively, it made Castiel chuckle. “You sound so certain of your plan. Are you sure it will succeed?”

“Oh, I know it will. Because you’re going to hate option two.” She paused dramatically, and he waited, really regretting asking in the first place. “Before anything happens, Gabriel is going to know about the plan ahead of time. If you can’t propose, Gabriel and I will come in and reign hell. He will embarrass you to no end, and pull at least three of his usual pranks. I will flirt with Dean, maybe make some passes at both of you, and be sure to bring up your abilities in the bedroom. You will hate every second of it and want to run away as soon as possible.”

Castiel blinked at Meg. “Well, seeing as you’ve given me no other option, it looks like we will go with the first plan,” he said. He didn’t even want to think about the second one more than necessary. To be honest, he was grateful for Meg’s straightforward, albeit outrageous, plan. He was much more likely to actually propose with the threat of she and Gabriel getting involved looming over his head.

She grinned, punching him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, Clarence. Now, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Chapter Text

~ One Year Later ~

“Meg, I am going to be ill,” Castiel complained, breathing heavily into his hands. He wasn’t too sure he was able to do this. Adopting the kids was one thing, but for whatever reason, the pressure here felt so much more intense. Meg glared at him in the mirror, silencing his complaint, as she finished straightening out his jacket.

“Clarence, I swear to God, if you throw up on these clothes, I will kill you without hesitation.”

Castiel slumped in his seat, rumpling the coat Meg had just tried fixing. It took everything in him not to run his hand through his hair nervously. “But what if-” he started, his thoughts running all over the place, before Meg cut him off.

“Dean won’t say no. The entire kingdom knows this and so do you. If, for some impossible reason, Dean says no at the altar, I will punch him and haunt his ass for eternity,” Meg stated, knowing exactly what his worries were. “Now sit up and hold still, so I can actually get this coat to look somewhat wrinkle free.”

He did as he was told, trying to remain still, but his nerves were making him jittery. He never thought he would get this anxious for his wedding, but the entire event was nerve-wracking. “Cassie, I say this with love. But you look like you just swallowed a bag of rocks,” Gabriel said, entering the room without knocking, as to be expected.

“Your loving words really encourage me. Thank you,” Castiel deadpanned, shooting his brother a look.

“Aw, you’ve got nothing to worry about, baby bro. It’s just the nerves of the big day,” he reassured, slinging an arm around Castiel. “Just think. Soon, all this fancy stuff will be over and tonight, you’ll be in the arms of your husband, you over top of him whispering sweet nothings in his ear as you thrus-” he added, waving his hand around, painting the scene.

Castiel rushed in, closing his eyes. “I do not need to hear you finish that sentence.” He loved his brother, but sometimes, he really wondered how they were related.

There was a quiet knock at the door. “Castiel, it’s time,” he heard someone call. He gulped, fiddling with his cuff.

Meg squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll do great, Clarence. Gabriel and I will be there the whole time, ready to beat Dean up if he says no.”

“Meg,” he warned, but she just shrugged, uncaring.

“She’s right, you know,” Gabriel stated, stepping back and gesturing for him to stand. He did as he was asked, facing his brother, who got to work fixing his sash then flower crown. Jack had made a matching set for both himself and Dean. Even though it had been a year, he was hardly any better at making the crowns than when Jack had first shown him how to. “If Dean-o says no, prince or not, he’s going to get the full wrath of Meg and myself. No one wants to deal with that, so you’ll be fine.”

Castiel looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. Meg and Gabriel had combined their efforts to put the outfit together. The jacket was a light cream, with a green sash matching Dean’s eyes running from shoulder to hip. He had tan trousers on, as well as dark brown boots, rising to his knees.

His hair, as always, was a monster to tame, but even he had to admit, it looked a bit more styled than it normally did. He looked fit to marry a prince.

Gabriel clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Go get him, tiger,” he encouraged.

 -

Dean was pacing the room. He was getting married. He was getting married. The very idea was electrifying. “Dean, if you keep going like that, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” Charlie said, leaning against the desk.

“Sorry. But this is probably the biggest day of my life, besides adopting Jack and Claire, and I get to marry Cas and- and he is going to become my husband. My husband, Charlie. What if I say something wrong because I am stressed? What will I do then? Will he no longer want to marry me?” Dean rambled, running his fingers through his hair.

Charlie grabbed his hands, forcing him to stop and look her in the eyes. “Hey, hey, hey. Dean, just breathe, alright? You’ve got this,” she reassured. “With me. Inhale, exhale.”

Focusing on Charlie, Dean did as she asked, following her instructions. He breathed in and out, calming his erratic heartbeat. “See? You’re doing fine. You just need to take the time to breathe, and everything will be fine.”

He pulled Charlie in for a hug, clutching her close to his chest. “Thanks for everything, kid,” he whispered in her ear. She squeezed him back, before pulling away.

“Hey, you know I wouldn’t let you do this by yourself. I couldn’t exactly let you go out looking like this, could I?” Charlie joked, fixing his flower crown where it had started to fall off his head. “You see? You’re hopeless.”

Dean laughed, rolling his eyes. “What would I ever do without you?” She grinned, before a solid knock at the door interrupted them.

“Winchester, you better not be trying to conspire with my wife to get out of your own wedding,” Jo called from the other side of the door.

Dean frowned. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Jo. Charlie is doing all the conspiring herself,” he yelled back. Charlie stuck her tongue at him, and he did the same. They were both acting like children, and they knew it.

“Well, then she needs to go finish getting ready. The ceremony is going to start in a few minutes and she needs to get in place.” Dean sighed, not wanting to say goodbye yet, even though he’d see her shortly.

“Duty calls,” Charlie said lightly. She winked at Dean. “I’ll see you in a few moments, as you walk down the aisle. I’ll be by your side for the rest of it too. Now try not to mess up your flower crown again, ok?” she joked, slipping out the door.

Dean watched her go, smiling, before falling into the chair behind him. “Sammy, how am I supposed to do this?” he asked, the guinea pig sitting on the dresser, being emotional support for him.

You perform the ceremony, you say some words, you kiss, Sam stated. He snorted. “I know that, bitch. Way to put it simply.”

Jerk. It’s easy as that. Just think of it as a three-step process. Walk down the aisle and listen to your dad, say your part, and then kiss Cas. Dean shook his head. He couldn’t believe that Sam was the one giving him wedding advice.

He looked at Sam, worrying his lip. “Do you think he’s making a mistake?” Dean asked quietly, clutching his stomach, voicing his deepest concern. Even though it had been over a year since Metatron had died, he could still hear his voice in his head some days, berating him for a variety of things. He was getting much better at ignoring it, but there were still times where it just wouldn’t go away. Now though, that voice was telling him that he wasn’t worthy of love; that Cas was only marrying him to gain something. Dean hated listening to it, but it was truly nagging, and he just couldn’t shake it.

Dean, Cas is not making a mistake by choosing you. Do you think you’re making a mistake by marrying Cas? Sam asked. Dean shook his head, shooting a frantic look at his friend. “Of course not, Sam,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. He loved Cas.

Exactly. There’s your answer, Sam squeaked. You love each other, there is no doubt about it. You have seen each other through trying times, frankly strange ones at that, and yet, you’ve both stood together. You deserve to be happy together, Dean.

Dean nodded, keeping his emotions in check. He was not going to cry before his wedding, out of all circumstances. “Thanks Sammy.”

A small knock came at the door, much quieter than Jo’s loud one. “Dad?” a voice asked before pushing the door open. A blonde head poked her head around the corner, before grinning at him. Dean smiled at his daughter, giving her a hug as she ran over.

“Hiya, kiddo,” he said, holding her tightly. It had been an interesting year, learning how to care for Jack and Claire properly as their dad, but the two kids had quickly become his constants as much as Cas.

“I just wanted to come and check on you. Everything is ready, you know,” she stated, and his grip tightened. Everything was ready. Just minutes and he was going to be walking down the aisle for his wedding. “Dad, you’re squishing me,” she complained, squirming in his grip.

“Right, right. Sorry,” he apologized, reluctantly letting her go, knowing she had to go outside before he did. “You take care of Sam. I don’t want him going off eating any of the wreaths of flowers your grandmother prepared, you hear?”

His mom had gone to a lot of effort to prepare the flowers that decorated the main hall of the castle. Dean knew though that Sam would snack on them if given the chance. Jerk, Sam chirped as Claire picked him up. He didn’t respond, only because Claire was right there, holding him.

“Hey Dad?” she called at the door.

“Yeah, Claire?”

“Papa is just as excited to marry you as you are him,” she commented before leaving him by himself. Dean smiled. For being 8 years old, Claire felt much more mature than he’d expect. He was pretty sure when he was 8, he was a handful at best.

He took one final look in the mirror, making sure the finishing touches were ready. He had a white jacket on, a blue sash over it, matching Cas’ eyes. He was pretty sure Charlie had conspired with Meg and Gabriel to come up with the outfits, but she wouldn’t give him a straight answer no matter how much he asked.

His black pants were soft and comfortably tight, which were cuffed just below his knees. He still didn’t wear boots, so they had chosen pants that fit his style. Dean had to admit; whether it was Charlie, Meg, or Gabriel who put the outfit together, whoever chose the ensemble had great taste.

Straightening his jacket and steeling himself from his nerves, Dean opened his door and made his way to the main hall for his wedding.

 -

Castiel was standing at the altar, his hands balled into fists, trying not to be jittery. The rest of the wedding party had already made their way down the aisle, Meg and Gabriel at his side, while Charlie and Jo were on the other side of the altar, standing and waiting patiently for Dean to appear. Claire and Jack were sitting in the front row, beaming up at him, and he smiled back.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to the king. “Congratulations,” John whispered quietly, smiling at him, before going back to his regal stance. The music flared and Castiel straightened. This was it.

Soon enough, through the doors came Mary, Dean linked at her elbow. Castiel knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it as he watched Dean and his mother make their way down the aisle.

Mary hugged Dean when they made it to the end, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before she found her seat beside the kids and Dean found his place in front of Castiel. They were both smiling way too much, but neither noticed.

King John began his speech, but Castiel didn’t notice. He only stared at his soon-to-be husband and realized how lucky he was. Dean didn’t once remove his eyes from his either, green staring back at blue.

It was only once Meg nudged him in the side, albeit roughly, that he realized he hadn’t been paying attention. “Pardon?” Castiel asked, coming out of his daze, his cheeks turning pink. He heard a small chuckle from Dean, but he genuinely didn’t know what had been asked.

John, to his credit, simply smiled. “It is time for your vows.”

“Oh,” was his only response, as he looked back at Dean. Castiel took a deep breath, trying to remember a word of what he had memorized, but figuring it was better to speak from the heart anyhow. “Dean, when you and I first met, I was just a kid looking for a snack and you were the boy who helped me sneak around the castle. You were my first, and only, love, even with 21 years tearing us apart.”

He still couldn’t believe he had found Dean again, after two decades. It was truly a miracle and he thanked the world for that every day. He continued. “I’ve realized that no matter what life throws my way, whether a fire, the occasional crime, or even something as ridiculous as a frying pan, you will always be my constant.” Dean outright laughed at the mention of the frying pan, while he was sure the majority of people watching the ceremony were confused, but it didn’t matter to Castiel. Seeing Dean happy was the best thing he could ask for.

“Even back when we were children, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, through the good and bad. And having met you again after almost a lifetime had passed, that hasn’t changed. Now look at you,” Castiel said, huffing a small laugh. He raised his hand caressing Dean’s cheek. He smiled softly, feeling tears in his eyes. “Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”

Castiel took the ring from Gabriel, who he noticed was blinking rapidly. He was sure his brother would deny until the end of time that he was teary-eyed, but it made Castiel feel a rush of love for his brother.

He turned back to Dean, grabbing his hand, closing with the words they agreed upon together. “Through Heaven and Hell, and all in between. Against angels and demons, or whatever the world wants to throw at us. Come what may, my love for you will never end. I choose you, Dean Winchester. I will always choose you,” Castiel declared, finishing his vows, as he slid the ring on Dean’s finger.

 -

Dean chuckled, swiping at his eyes with the back of the one not currently in Cas’ hands. “Dammit Cas,” he whispered, trying to compose himself as he knew it was his turn for vows. “Who gave you the right to be so sappy?”

Cas just grinned at him, knowing full well that Dean took every word to heart. His eyes were so full of joy that Dean never wanted the moment to end. “Well, uh. It’s kind of hard to follow that up,” he breathed out, gaining a few laughs from the people around him.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground, trying to come up with the right words. He had practiced, but now, being up there with Cas, it was gone. Cas brushed his thumb across his knuckles, comforting him.

Steadying himself, he looked back up at Cas. “I don’t remember when we first met. I don’t remember our friendship or even what you looked like. I can only assume you were some snot-nosed kid who I took pity on,” Dean began, laughing to himself. Cas tilted his head, the slightest frown on his lips, but his eyes were still full of glee.

“I know that when I first met you, at least what I had thought was our first meeting, it didn’t go quite so smoothly. There may or not have been blackmail involved, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kill me at your first opportunity. Something about a crazy man in a tower with a guinea pig and a frying pan must’ve appealed to you though,” Dean joked, getting Cas to grin, wide and gummy. He didn’t care if the rest of the audience understood or not, because his vows were only for the two of them.

“I may not remember when we met as kids, when I probably loved you just as much then as I do now. But that’s a good thing, I guess. You want to know why?” Dean asked, lowering his voice in a stage-whisper. “I got to fall in love with you all over again.”

Cas beamed, and Dean felt like he was on top of the world. “I’m not good at emotional moments. I am hotheaded, stubborn, and brash. I might not always understand what you’re talking about, like something as bizarre as a library. Hell, it’s been a year and you still can’t convince me that moose exist.” Cas laughed, rolling his eyes, and Dean grinned. “But I can promise you one thing - to stay. To stay with you when we’re picking bar fights. To stay with you when we’re drowning in a cave. To stay with you when you literally kick me out of bed and I drop you in the lake. Even to stay when you decide it’s a good idea to tickle me and I want to do nothing more than to tackle you to the ground.”

Ending the same way Cas did, Dean continued as he grabbed Cas’ hand in his own. “Through Heaven and Hell, and all in between. Against angels and demons, or whatever the world wants to throw at us. Come what may, my love for you will never end. I choose you, Castiel Novak. I will always choose you.” He slipped the ring onto Cas’ finger, clasping their hands together.

Cas had a tear slipping down his cheek, and Dean brushed it away as his dad started to conclude the ceremony. “Do you, Castiel Novak, take Dean Winchester to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?”

Cas and Dean laughed at the phrasing. “Already died once. I look forward to not repeating the process,” he teased. Dean squeezed his hands, as Cas nodded. “I do.”

His dad turned to him next. “Do you, Dean Winchester, take Castiel Novak to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?”

Dean nodded, grinning. He felt like he was going to burst from joy. “I do,” he said, not being able to come up with any sort of joke, too overwhelmed with emotions.

His dad smiled at the two of them. “Then, by the power invested me, as king, and as a father, I now pronounce you, man and husband. You may kiss.”

A deafening cacophony of noise erupted throughout the hall. Charlie was cheering from beside him, Jo cackling along and yelling too. Dean whooped, but was cut off quickly by Cas yanking him forward and leaning him down into a dip, before kissing him. Dean closed his eyes, savoring his husband’s lips against his own, before smiling against him, leaning their foreheads together. “Hiya, dearest husband,” he said, just loud enough to be heard over the crowd. He still couldn’t believe it was real.

Cas smiled and pulled him back upright so he was standing once again. “Hello, dearest husband,” Cas agreed, holding their hands together. Dean shot his hand up into the air, keeping his grip in Cas’, showing everyone who his new husband was.

They walked down the steps together, getting into a group hug with their kids. It made him grin like there was no tomorrow. “Can we go have some pie now? I’m hungry,” Claire asked, pulling away from the hug.

Dean laughed. Definitely his daughter. “Yeah, Claire. We can go have some pie now,” he said, agreeing with her decision.

Jack escaped from Cas’ grip and smiled, a gaping hole where his two front teeth should be, as he lost them both at the same time about a month ago. “We’ll get a head start!” he exclaimed, grabbing his sister’s hand and running down the aisle, leaving Sammy with his mom.

“Do you mind bringing Sam? It seems that the kids have other priorities in mind,” Dean asked, knowing she would be fine, but he wanted to make sure.

“Of course, sweetie. Go get your children,” his mom said, giving him a hug, before pulling Cas in for one as well.

To his surprise, Cas was the one who began their run down the aisle, sprinting by the crowd as someone threw petals at them. Dean laughed, doing his best to keep up with his husband, as they made their way out of the room.

They had to go out to the courtyard to greet the crowd, but Cas didn’t lead them the right way. Instead, he turned down a side hallway, finding a small alcove, leaving the two of them alone, if only for a few moments.

Dean looked down at Cas, the adoration shining through his eyes, at the ring on his finger and was filled with so much love, it was almost unbearable. “Did I ever tell you that as soon as I saw the frying pan in your hand, I thought you were the dumbest man alive?”

He snorted, placing his hand on Cas’ waist. “Wow Cas, thanks for the compliment.”

Cas put his finger on Dean’s lips, silencing him. “I’m not finished yet, assbutt.” He stayed silent, planting a light kiss on Cas’ finger as it remained in place. Cas rolled his eyes fondly before continuing. “I was concerned, to say the least, for anyone who knew you. And now look at us.”

Cas placed his hands on both of Dean’s cheeks and he closed his eyes, embracing the touch. He would never get tired of the comfort of Cas. “There I was, thinking I had a treasure in my bag. Who would’ve thought I would’ve found the real one waiting with a frying pan in a tower?”

Dean flushed and started to laugh, tears coming to his eyes. “God, you’re such a dork. I wonder who would ever want to marry you,” he joked, trying to brush it off, but he meant none of the words. He loved Cas with all of his heart.

Cas understood anyhow. He reached up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, Dean leaning into it softly. He gripped Dean’s hand and pulled them back out into the courtyard. “Come on, it’s best if we go see everyone. Who knows what kind of rumors Meg and Gabriel have already started about where we ran off to,” Cas stated, his tone flat.

Dean rubbed his hand over his face, groaning. “Remind me again why you thought it was a good idea to introduce them to each other?”

Cas narrowed his eyes at him. “If I recall, it was you that suggested that they meet and become friends. As to even them out.” Dean bit his tongue, recalling that yes, he had been the one to suggest they became friends. At the time, he had thought that they would balance each other out, as Meg was cold-hearted and dry at the best of times, while Gabriel was always bubbly and way too energetic. It seemed that had back-fired.

He cleared his throat, as they got to the doors where everyone was waiting. “Well, regardless of who is to blame,” Dean started, ignoring Cas’ pointed look. “We definitely shouldn’t keep them waiting, if we want to keep the rumors to a minimum.”

Cas huffed out a laugh. “Between those two, plus Charlie and Jo, I don’t think we’re going to get out of this easily.”

 -

Castiel had been right. They had been gone for a maximum of five minutes and he was sure he would never hear the end of it from Meg or Gabriel. Charlie and Jo didn’t seem to bombard Dean with near as much attention, but Charlie did wink at him when he had walked by, so he didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign.

After the public ceremonies for the kingdom were finished, their little group of friends and family were by themselves for a little party to celebrate. He found it much easier to breathe being surrounded by people he knew and loved. His new in-laws were there, as well as Bobby and Ellen, Jody, Donna, and Kaia, and Rufus too. Of course, so were the children, as well as the wedding party.

When Dean asked him to dance in the middle of the ballroom, Castiel didn’t hesitate before taking his husband’s hand. He raised an eyebrow as he saw three musicians sit down with various stringed instruments. “Dean, how long have you been planning this?” he asked.

Dean shrugged. “Oh, you know. Not too long. Maybe a few days… or weeks,” Dean admitted, his face turning red. Castiel smiled at his husband, as the music began to play. They got into their usual positions, one hand at Dean’s waist while the other held his hand.

As they began to waltz around the room, Castiel smiled as they didn’t collide with each other. “Dean Winchester. Have you been practicing your dancing without me?”

Dean just grinned back, pulling him in for a kiss. Castiel let out a small noise of approval, relishing the feeling, before Dean pulled back. “I may have wanted to find a way to impress my husband-to-be. I figured we could want to avoid a repeat of last time,” Dean explained.

It was true. They had danced a few times since their journey to the capital, but nothing as fancy. That dance had been rather disastrous. Castiel nodded, continuing the waltz gracefully. Dean squinted at him, searching for something while he just stared back, before his husband chuckled. “You practiced too, you douchebag, didn’t you?”

Castiel shook his head, denying the accusation, even it was very much true. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He had wanted to get it right whenever they had danced again, so he had decided to brush up on his skills. Meg had been quite helpful, even if she had grumbled the entire time. However, there was no way he was letting Dean know that.

Dean’s smirk only grew, looking smug. “You’re a horrible liar,” he said, batting his eyes. “I’m so flattered, Cas. Should I expect wedding bells sometime soon?”

Castiel rolled his eyes at Dean’s antics. “Bells, yes, but more likely for your funeral than anything, if you keep being an assbutt,” he grumbled.

Dean pouted, as Castiel spun him out. “Aw, come on, Cas. You know you love me.” That was the problem, wasn’t it? He loved this man so very much, even if he was truly irritating sometimes. He spun Dean back in, putting them chest to chest.

Knowing the effect it would have, Castiel put his arms around Dean’s back, securing him in place against his chest, their faces inches apart. He could see Dean get visibly flustered, his mouth opening and closing, with a tinge of redness highlighting his cheeks, even after all this time. It made a swell of love flit through his own chest.

Castiel craned his head up, whispering into Dean’s ear. “I love you, but unless you want to sleep on the floor tonight, I’d suggest you think very wisely about your next actions.” He planted a heated kiss under his husband’s ear, for good measure.

He felt Dean swallow against him. “Well if you uh… Even if you hadn’t practiced dancing, you’re still sexy as Hell,” Dean stuttered out. Castiel chuckled, releasing his husband from his embrace, only to dip him. Dean was looking up at him, a look of wonder in his eyes, his face completely flushed now.

Castiel smiled. “That was a horrible save, just to let you know,” he lied. Dean immediately knew it was a lie, because his cockiness came back in an instant. He smirked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you telling me all I need to do is call you sexy and you’ll forgive me?” Dean asked, mirth dripping from his voice. Castiel rolled his eyes, trying his best to smother his smile and replace it with a frown.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Castiel stated, forcing his lips downwards, pulling Dean back up and resuming the dance. Dean never stopped grinning, keeping eye contact.

“Oh, I know. I’m horrible, but you’re sexy.” Castiel couldn’t help the laugh that burst from his throat, shaking his head at his husband. How he had fallen for the antics of this man, he didn’t know.

Their dance continued for a bit longer, yet soon, it was over. They had a little bit of time before dinner, leaving them all to talk to one another. Dean got called away by his parents, leaving Castiel to entertain the rest of the group. Dean had only shrugged at him, his face full of sympathy.

Castiel did his best to entertain. After all, they were all friends, but he still had poor social skills. Charlie was trying to steer the conversation, which he was completely grateful for, but it didn’t work completely. He had ruined a couple of jokes before Dean showed back up, and he could’ve cried from relief.

Finally though, it was time for dinner. Castiel could only hope it was going to be more civilized than the afternoon had been. Amongst the conversation he had been entertaining, Gabriel and Meg had made it their duty to make as many jokes as possible. He didn’t need any more remarks from his brother or best friend about what they had been doing in those five minutes.

Thankfully, he sat beside Jack and Dean at the meal, with Gabriel on the other side of Jack. Even his brother wouldn’t make crude jokes in the presence of his nephew, which Castiel thought was a blessing. However, it didn’t stop Gabriel from shooting him lewd looks over Jack’s head, which he ignored entirely. Or at least he tried to. It was very difficult to ignore Gabriel.

The dinner itself went by pleasantly. They all congratulated Castiel and Dean and made friendly conversation. Drinks were then brought out, continuing the meal.

“Everyone, I’d like to make a speech,” Gabriel called out beside him, holding up his glass. Castiel tilted his head, eyeing his brother. He didn’t know what Gabriel was planning, nor did he trust it. He glanced at Dean, who looked just as confused as he was.

Gabriel stood up from his seat and walked to the middle of the room, gathering everyone’s eyes. Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand, needing some sort of reassurance as to what his brother had planned.

“As we all know, I love mischief. Anytime I can, I cause trouble, especially if it messes with my little brother,” Gabriel began. Castiel narrowed his eyes. What was his brother doing? “However, today is Cassie’s big day. So I figured I’d do what any responsible older sibling does and embarrass him as much as possible.”

His grip on Dean tightened. That was never a good sign, especially when Gabriel started to smile. “Did you know that when Cassie was a small kid, he once painted our neighbor’s sheep and cried when she got upset at him? He threw a whole paint bucket on one of them, bathing her in bright blue,” he explained. Dean choked on a laugh beside him, coughing a couple of times.

“You did what?” Dean asked Castiel, his eyes big and smile widening.

Castiel slumped down in his seat, not knowing how he was going to survive his brother, especially if Dean was enjoying this. “I thought they lacked a distinct color and were sad. If they had some color in their wool, they would be happier,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. He huffed indignantly. “And I did not cry. I merely questioned her judgment and got upset that we didn’t see eye-to-eye.”

Dean nodded, clearly trying not to grin too much. Castiel would have commented, but Jack cut in first. “Papa, can we do that some day?” he asked hopefully. Claire looked intrigued too, on the other side of Dean.

Castiel grinned slyly, knowing a great way to get back at Dean. “Of course it’s all right with me, Jack. However, you need your dad’s permission first before you can paint any sheep,” he explained, making sure any blame would go on his husband.

Dean, in turn, glared at him sharply, recognizing exactly what he was doing. Castiel just smiled some more. “Well Dad? Can Claire and I paint some sheep?” Jack asked, looking optimistic. He saw Dean clench his jaw, working up an answer.

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, which Castiel was thrilled to hear, it seemed Gabriel wanted to continue. Dean audibly sighed, looking immensely relieved. He slung his arm around Castiel’s shoulders, pulling him closer.

Castiel felt his husband’s lips on his neck and heard him whisper in his ear. “You’re one lucky bastard, you know.” His smile started to grow, turning to kiss Dean.

“Gabriel has impeccable timing, doesn’t he?” Castiel murmured back against his lips, as Gabriel started to talk again.

“Even back when he was a young child, he was a rebel and a thief. Not that you had anything to worry about, Your Majesties, besides stealing your son’s heart,” Gabriel explained, sparing the king and queen a quick glance. They just waved him off, gesturing for him to continue. It would’ve been so easy for them to just tell him to stop, but they both were enjoying themselves, as was everyone else. Castiel internally groaned, even if he was pleased seeing the pink flush that tinged Dean’s cheeks.

“When I was on a trip for a weekend, leaving Cassie in the charge of our two other brothers, they had the brilliant sense to leave him alone in the marketplace. He wandered for hours, grabbing things that caught his eye as he went. It was chaos. People didn’t know whose son was walking aimlessly, taking things, but they all assumed that someone was paying attention to him and paying for the items he took.

“I came home to find many things wrong. The first thing wrong was a lack of one small brother. The second thing that was off was that there were multiple new possessions in our home which had not been there when I had left, specifically jewels and necklaces. Lastly, Michael and Lucifer both looked afraid for their lives when they saw me, and wow, that was probably the most shocking. The two of them rarely had qualms so seeing their reaction to me, I knew they fu-,” Gabriel started before clearing his throat, looking at Dean and Castiel, before glancing at the kids. “I knew that they messed things up big time.”

Gabriel grinned, and Castiel shrunk further down. He knew what was coming up and he didn’t want to hear it. “Tell me when it’s over,” he grumbled, leaning his head in his lap. Dean put his hand soothingly on his back, but Castiel could still tell his husband was far too amused by the stories.

“I learned from my brothers that our dearest Cassie was no longer part of our family. One of the vendors saw the boy without a family trying to steal from him and decided he was going to become the next big hit in return. And that, my friends, is how I learned about Aloysius the Magnificent, the world’s youngest fortune teller.” The children outright laughed, as did Dean, Castiel feeling the reverberation along his back. He wanted to shrink up into a ball and hide.

Gabriel chuckled. “I had to pay 15 silver coins just to see my brother in a fancy hat and jewelry, sitting in a booth with a number of little trinkets in front of him. The customers would ask him a question and based off his “extensive insight,” he would choose a trinket and the vendor would explain the fortune as a result. I’m pretty sure I was told that I would one day marry a chinchilla, after Cassie grabbed a bracelet and jangled it in front of me.”

Castiel’s face was burning, not daring to look up. “What did I marry into?” Dean asked him quietly, amusement lacing his tone. He didn’t deign a response, just kept his head in his lap. He felt a squeeze on his shoulder and looked up, seeing Dean with a soft smile on his face. “You know that all this is just making me love you more, right?”

Castiel snorted, shaking his head. “I guess I should’ve told the king that my name was actually Aloysius the Magnificent and not Castiel Novak. Does this make our marriage invalid?”

Dean shrugged, his smile turning into a grin. “Well, I guess that just means that I’ll have to marry you again.” Castiel smiled up at him, as Dean leaned down to give him a kiss.

Gabriel continued. “Do you know how difficult it was to get Cassie to willingly come back with me? That was the one condition from the owner, if he chose to leave of his own free will, he could go home. I genuinely worried I would never get him to return. I swear I went through at least 12 different fortunes, each more ridiculous than the last, before I barely convinced him that I was a better choice than the shiny trinkets in front of him, spending way too much money in the process.” Gabriel turned towards them, looking at Castiel. “You were a hassle, you know that, baby bro?”

Castiel sat up and rolled his eyes. “If I had to go back and do it again, I would choose the trinkets any day,” he grumbled, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Each one of them laughed, including Gabriel.

“You wound me, Cassie,” Gabriel mocked, before directing his attention back to the full room. “In all seriousness though. All this to say, even if my brother would trade me for some shiny jewelry, I wouldn’t trade him for the world. 15 years without me, and somehow he grew into one of the most loving, caring people I have ever met. I am lucky to have him in my life, as are we all.” Castiel flushed at his brother’s compliments, especially as there was a collective murmur of agreement throughout the room.

Not one to end on a serious note, Gabriel smiled. “And to think, now that he met Dean, my brother even has a sense of humour. But truly Dean, if you hurt my brother, I will kill you.” Castiel groaned while his brother raised his glass. “To Dean and Castiel, some of the best men the world has to offer.”

Everyone in the room raised their glasses as well, toasting the two of them. “Now for dessert!” Gabriel announced, shooting a wink at the two of them before returning to his seat.

Castiel watched with delight as Charlie ran out of the room to bring in her rolling cart of dessert. Instead of a traditional cake, Charlie had created mini pies for each person. How she had managed to make so many, Castiel didn’t know.

What he did know is that the pies were adorable and smelled delicious. Dean was practically salivating beside him, looking at the dessert. However, he didn’t immediately devour it, which surprised Castiel, to say the least. It was strange to see Dean issue self-control when it came to pies.

“Hey Cas?” Dean asked, spinning his pie around in his hands, still not eating it.

“Yes Dean?” He picked up his fork, ready to start his dessert.

“I just want to say I love you and you’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” Dean replied, holding the pie in his hand.

Before the words even had time to register, Castiel suddenly couldn’t see, his face full of cherry pie, feeling Dean’s hands rub the pie all over his cheeks. He heard Dean’s laugh ringing throughout the room, loud and raucous, as well as a noise of protest he was sure came from Meg. He didn’t even want to imagine the state of his suit, how stained it would now be. Castiel lifted his hand to wipe his eyes, trying to see again. He stuck his tongue out, licking the pie filling around his mouth as he slowly opened his eyes.

Dean was grinning at him like he was the world, his hands full of pie, his face the portrayal of innocence. The absolute delight on his face was almost enough for Castiel to forgive him.

Almost.

Without another thought, Castiel grabbed his own pie in his hands and smooshed it in Dean’s face, laughing at the look of shock on his husband’s face before it was covered in pie. Jack quickly shoved his own pie in front of Castiel, who promptly took his fork in hand and acted as if he was eating.

He saw Dean from the corner of his eye wiping his face, a smile tugging at his lips, but he quickly clamped it down. “Dean, you know you’re supposed to eat your food, not wear it, correct?” Castiel asked, taking a bite of his son’s pie, turning his head to give his husband a slightly disapproving look. “Especially with company around. What example are you setting to our children?”

Dean tsked, shaking his head. “Lying to your husband already, Cas? What example are you setting to our children?” Dean leaned in, shocking him with a kiss, especially as he licked Castiel’s lips. “Even if you are a liar, you still taste delicious.” Castiel flushed, tasting the pie on Dean’s mouth as they stared at each other.

“Get a room, you two!” Charlie called across the room.

Gabriel whistled lowly. “You’ll have plenty of time for that later, lovebirds.” They both chuckled, regaining their composure, especially in front of their kids.

Jack took his pie back, devouring it with as much fervor as his dad did, while Claire looked ready to gag at their antics. Castiel decided to not care about their suits and leaned his pie-covered face on Dean’s shoulder, wrapping his arms tight around his waist. Dean did the same, leaning his head on top of Castiel’s, holding him tightly.

The two of them stayed just like that, despite the mess that they would inevitably have to clean up later, as everyone continued their desserts, perfectly content in each other’s embrace.

- 

It was the last night of the festival, only a few days after the wedding. His parents threw another festival as part of their wedding celebration, and Dean wasn’t sure he had slept in a week. There were all the wedding preparations beforehand which kept him busy, plus the nerves the night before the ceremony, keeping him up all night. Then the actual wedding night came, and he didn’t sleep much that night, too busy with other activities. Since then, with the other festivities going on, his amount of sleep had shortened dramatically, yet he wouldn’t change it for the world.

He yawned, but tried to cover it as he saw his daughter come into view. “What took you so long?” Claire asked, waiting for him outside the room. He smiled at her, grabbing her hand.

“I was getting your gifts ready,” he replied, following her as she led him to the main hall, where Cas, Jack, and his parents were probably all waiting.

She beamed up at him, immediately latching onto the idea. “We get gifts?”

“Of course you do, kiddo. But don’t tell Jack, okay? It is our little secret,” Dean said, putting a finger to his lips. She nodded, grinning, as they entered the room. As expected, everyone was already waiting for them.

His mother hugged him and he kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful, Mom,” he said, smiling at her.

She laughed, a smile growing on her face. “Flatterer,” she teased.

John also came and hugged him. “Are you ready, Dean?”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around his dad. “I was born ready for this.”

“Good. Then you won’t have any problems with the speech afterwards,” his dad stated. Dean sputtered, choking a little bit.

“There’s a speech after?” he asked incredulously, not having prepared anything at all. He didn’t realize that was a requirement. Did Cas know? Was he the only one unaware? His dad’s answering chuckle was Dean’s only giveaway he was joking, to which he received a glare. John ignored it and took his wife’s hand, leading her to the open balcony.

Jack came over and gave him a hug, smiling up at him. “I love you, Dad,” he exclaimed as Dean returned the embrace.

“Love you too, Jack.” He let go, stepping back as Jack and Claire ran after his parents.

“Sure, give everyone else an embrace and not me,” Cas grumbled, a glint in his eyes, as he crossed his arms over his chest. Dean laughed.

“Aw, come on, sweetheart. You know I save the best for last,” he responded, wrapping his arms around his husband, pressing a kiss against his temple.

“We don’t have time for your excuses,” Cas said with a frown, even as amusement laced his tone. He kissed Dean, and he felt himself melt. “You’re late.”

“I was wrapping presents, okay? Do you know how difficult it is for a bow to keep its shape? It’s honestly exhausting.”

Cas laughed, shaking his head. “And we all feel terribly bad for you and your endeavors.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at his husband. “Shut up,” he griped, shoving him lightly on the shoulder, a smile growing on his face. He pulled Cas forward, walking out to where his parents and kids were waiting.

Finding their seats behind Jack and Claire, Dean slung his arm around Cas’ shoulders, pulling him tight as they sat together. “I’m actually prepared this time,” he whispered into his ear, as his dad gestured at the coordinator to begin. Cas smiled in response, putting his arm around his waist, as the fireworks began.

From the balcony, they had a clear view of the field as the lights shot into the sky. Dean watched in awe, just as beautiful as they were the previous year. However, even being prepared for the resounding boom, Dean still tightened his grip on Cas at the sound.

Cas smiled at him, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “Don’t worry,” he whispered between the light displays, making sure the others couldn’t hear. “I’ll protect you from the scary lights.”

Dean glared at his husband. “You’re a real bastard, you know?” Cas’ smile only grew.

“You’re an assbutt. We compliment each other,” he said matter-of-factly, pulling him tighter against his side. Dean scoffed at the remark, focusing back on the fireworks. Cas’ lips pressed against his cheek, and he felt them curl into a smile against his skin. “I love you.”

Dean chuckled, holding him tight. “I love you too, Cas.”

As the fireworks continued, with his husband by his side, their children in front of them, and his parents also with them, Dean knew that this was it. After everything they had been through, the hard times and good - this was happily ever after, and Dean was home.

And to think. It all began with a frying pan.