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The nights in Purgatory are cold.
The darkness presses in, suffocating and impenetrable to the pale mockery of a moon that hovers above the treetops; it moves, rustling with the scrape of claws and the howls of unseen monsters. There is a bitter chill in the air.
Dean has not slept since he arrived.
And so it’s with some reluctance and an overwhelming relief that he slumps against the gnarled trunk of a tree this night, angel by his side, and shuts his eyes.
Castiel does not need to sleep. He stands as sentinel by the hunter’s side as Dean makes himself vulnerable to the monsters, placing all of his trust in his angel.
Dean will always trust him. And that’s why it’s so hard.
‘Hey. You just gonna stand there all night?’
Castiel hesitates. ‘Yes?’
There’s a huff of a tired laugh, followed by the rustle of leaf-litter as Dean pats the ground beside him. Castiel hesitates another moment before complying. A minute passes as they sit in what should be a companionable silence.
‘I missed you, Cas,’ Dean declares quietly to the darkness. Though it’s too dark to see his face, Castiel can hear the gentle affection in Dean’s voice as he relaxes beside him, his consciousness quickly claimed by sleep.
‘I’ll miss you, Dean.’