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One minute, he's staring at Zachariah's ugly mug marching towards him, and then – poof. He's standing by a road.
It's dark outside, the lamplight pooling the ground in a warm, orange glow. The trees are tall and swaying slightly in the summer breeze.
Sensing he's not alone, Dean squares his shoulders and turns.
Oh. Just Cas.
He feels the worry seep out of him, his muscles relaxing at the sight of that familiar, ill-fitting trenchcoat. With the flicker of streetlights carding through his unruly hair, Dean can't help but notice how gorgeous he really is.
"That was pretty nice timing, Cas."
"We had an appointment," The angel replies sincerely, eyes never shifting their gaze from Dean's face.
He feels himself smile at the comment. Cas is so genuine, so pure. It makes him want to hold onto him and never let go, surround himself in such love until the end of time.
Why the hell don't you, then?
Memories of Cas from the future, broken and bitter beyond repair, claw at his mind with startling clarity. He remembers the false grin and lewd comments, how 'un-Casly' every little thing had been. That Cas wasn't the real Cas, not his Cas.
This was the real angel standing before him, waiting patiently for Dean to speak, who had, apparently, been waiting for him all this time.
He steps forward to place one hand on Cas' shoulder, licks his lips. He makes sure to lock eyes with those brilliant, blue orbs before saying a word; Cas has to understand this, after all, he has to believe in what Dean is telling him.
"Don't ever change," He says after a moment, voice stern and commanding.
The angel just watches him. The smallest of smiles pulls at his mouth, so soft and barely noticeable. His lips twitch ever so slightly, eyes flitting to Dean's fond grin for a moment too long.
He knows that look.
It's love.
But he can't fall into it, can't let himself be consumed by it. Love is hope, and hope is dangerous. Hope will kill you faster than any bullets ever could.
He saves the image for later, stuffs it away in the back of his mind for a rainy day. Right now, he has work to do.
Dropping his hand from Cas' shoulder, he reaches into his pocket for his phone. It's time he got over this stupid little fight with Sammy, for everyone's sake. If he's gonna ice the devil, save the world from the nasty future Zachariah showed him – save Cas from falling into that dark pit and changing for good – then he's gonna need his little brother by his side.
"How did Zachariah find you?"
He side-eyes Cas, raises his eyebrows. "Long story. Let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses from now on, okay?"
Cas smiles again. It's so beautiful, to the point where it actually hurts. If only he could wake up to that same smile every day. If only he deserved it…
"What are you doing?"
"Something I should've done in the first place," He replies, trying not to melt at the confused little pout adorning the angel's face.
There will be time for that later, Dean.
With a sigh, he picks up the phone and calls.