Our Small World (4/5)
It doesn’t come nearly fast enough - but the time does come. Sleeping later than usual and waking up earlier has taken a bit of a toll of Dean, and he’s yawning constantly, but his excitement keeps him energized and alert. Which does very strange things to the weather. The Sun is tired, yet excited, and it’s almost like the colors are dimmer but the light is shining just as brightly as always.
Dean climbs on Impala’s back, once again, when he’s certain everybody is asleep, wearing his hood again so he can feel like a badass. The pie, still warm, is cradled securely on his lap, and he’s assured Impala that if for whatever reason he drops it she can bet they’re going to dive and catch it.
She doesn’t look very amused, but Dean doesn’t end up dropping anything, so none of it matters.
This time when he lands on the island, Impala takes off right away, off to find a nice place to nap or fly about, Dean is too focussed on the border to care. Castiel isn’t there this time. Dean must be early.
He stands next to the wall of darkness, looks into the dark shades of blue and green that it gives everything, and finds himself thinking it’s... gorgeous. It really is quite pretty, and it’s all Castiel’s, which makes it just that much more appealing.
He contemplates putting his hands through, or stepping onto the other side to wait, but his feet stay firmly planted exactly where they are. Who knows how far they are from any sort of town, but maybe there are some sort of night watch team, Dean has no idea.
So he sits down, pulls the pie out from under his arm, opens the box to inspect it, make sure it didn’t get damaged in any way. It looks perfect, smells perfect, and Dean is drooling so quickly he practically slams the box shut. What he told his mom was a lie, but in some ways he’s pretty certain, even if he never got to see Castiel again, pie would certainly help.
Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long. Castiel touches down, the force of his wings pushing the grass and making it bend. He’s slightly flushed and his eyes are so bright...
And in his hands is a basket of pastries.
“Castiel.” Gods, Dean doesn’t care how happy he sounds to see him. Castiel smiles ever so gently at him, sitting down in the grass, crossing his legs as well so they can face each other again, a bit more space between them than last time.
“Hello, Dean.” His voice sends a shiver down Dean’s spine, and Castiel smirks. Dammit, he knows exactly what he’s doing. “I’m sorry for my tardiness, I was nearly caught by my brother.”
Well at least he wasn’t. “Gabriel likes to stay up late?”
“Oh, no, my,” he pauses for another moment, and Dean just, he doesn’t push, but he wants to know. He wants to know everything. “My much older brother, Lucifer.”
Lucifer. Lucifer. Dean tries the name out in his head a few times, and it- there’s nothing wrong with it, it sounds sort of pretty, but there’s a weight in Dean’s stomach that comes with it, and he can’t place what it is.
So instead he laughs. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Well, they aren’t,” Castiel is gently, absently, bringing food out of the basket. The pastries are all carefully, separately wrapped in cloth. “My family is very large, and some of the lines are even lost to me.”
Dean just looks at him, waiting for him to continue.
“There is Gabriel, who despite being much different than me, is probably my closest sibling. He is older by three years. There is Balthazar, who is my age. Anna is only older than me by one year. Michael and Lucifer are both five years older than me. Inias is four years younger than me.” He’s looking distant like he’s sifting out who is worth bringing up.
Dean is just gaping. “You have that many siblings?” Dean can’t imagine having more than one.
“Some are cousins. Some are... Like I said, my bloodline is very confusing. I have many uncles and aunts and caretakers. Some are not actually related to me, they are children of other families, but our close relationship has made them like my family.”
Okay, that Dean can understand.
“I have one brother.” It’s only fair, that he trades off. “I mentioned him before. Sam.”
Castiel says nothing, but he heard Dean, Dean knows. He’s unwrapping strange, crescent shaped desserts with utter concentration.
And then; “You love your brother very much.”
Dean blinks. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“My brothers and sisters and I, we are... not very close.”
He can’t imagine not being close to your family. The idea itself is so strange he can’t comprehend it.
“I’m sorry.”
Castiel looks at him strangely. “Why?”
Dean shrugs. “I just, I can’t imagine not being close to your family. It sounds like it sucks.”
“It is what I’m used to.” He’s smiling, for Dean’s benefit, to soothe him. So Dean nods, because it really isn’t his business.
“Now,” Castiel sounds much happier not talking about it, “I brought you dessert, and I have to admit that I’ve been very eager to try your apple pie.”
Here’s something Dean can always relate to. Dessert. He pulls the box out. Took the liberty of cutting it into slices when he was at home, and had to throw the knife across the room so he didn’t lick the filling off.
“So, what first?”
Castiel pulls plates and forks out of his basket, and it’s so much like a picnic that Dean would find it childish, but Castiel looks like it’s so normal; he looks so content.
“I would very much like to try some pie, and considering the look on your face, so would you?”
Dean flushes. Caught again. He dishes them up. It would be a lie if he were to say he wasn’t nervous. Pie is sacred, it’s the food of the Gods - in Deans opinion, but it should be everybody’s opinion, really - so he has no idea what he’ll do if Castiel for some reason doesn’t like it.
Castiel takes the plate with careful hands, like he’s afraid it’s going to break. He turns it and holds it up so he can look, inspects the color and the texture and the shape before he finally breaks a piece off with his fork. Dean won’t lie, he’s staring.
And he continues to stare as the piece enters Castiel’s mouth. His eyes shut as he tastes, tongue curling around the edge of the fork. Dean watches him savor every different flavor, the flakiness of the crust, the cinnamon, and watches him finally swallow.
Castiel opens his eyes, and Dean’s face is hot. Holy shit, that was really...
Woah.
“I can see why you like it so much,” he says, and his tongue darts out to pick a crumb off the corner of his lip.
Thank the Gods. Dean feels so relieved. “You like it?” He has to make sure.
“It’s slightly tart, I wasn’t expecting that. And the cinnamon adds... it’s very good, Dean. Thank you.” He puts emphasis, and Dean isn’t sure if he’s doing it on purpose, by putting another piece in his mouth. Dean finally, finally, takes his own bite, and groans. The wait was definitely worth it.
“I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do if you didn’t like it. Sacred food, man.”
He finishes his slice in record time, and Castiel laughs, reaching across to wipe some of the sugar off of his lips with his thumb.
“It’s delicious, so no more worrying.”
And that coming from a guy that doesn’t really like sweets - which is still a crime - is pretty damn awesome if Dean can say so, himself.
“Now, gimme one of your berry things.” He makes grabby hands, and Castiel laughs again. Gods, it’s beautiful.
He does as told, passing a treat over to Dean, but doesn’t pick one up himself. Dean isn’t sure how he’s actually supposed to eat it, but he doesn’t really care about etiquette because it’s just Castiel, so he takes a bite off the the end, not even bothering with a fork or knife.
It’s so sweet, so deliciously sweet and fresh, nothing like an apple, and he makes a small appreciative sound, eyes fluttering shut. Too many of those and his stomach would ache for hours, but its freaking delicious.
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say you like it?”
“Gods, that’s awesome.”
“They’re Gabriel’s favorite. Probably the sweetest pastry I know of.”
“You aren’t a fan?”
“Not so much.”
“Hmm.” Dean really does not mind at all that he gets the entire thing to himself. He breaks off the last bite with a small yawn and covers his mouth, embarrassed because, ew, he has food in his mouth. But Castiel just reaches out, clasping their hands together.
In seconds he feels energy travel up his fingers and shoot up his arm. It wakes him up a little bit, and he wonders why he didn’t do that when Castiel was falling asleep against him the first time.
“Thanks.”
Castiel just squeezes and doesn’t let go. Dean lights up; his glow literally flashing brighter for a split second. There’s a stain of purple on his sleeve, because he’s an idiot and wiped his mouth, but it’s gone in a flash.
He wants another slice of pie, but his stomach growls in warning and he just holds himself back, putting the box behind him so he doesn’t have to look at it.
And then his mouth opens, and his talking and has no time to censor himself at all.
“You know, I really want to show you my home.”
And holy shit- holy shit he actually just said that, oh wow. Alright, he just, he should leave or something because that’s really not good, that’s probably a million steps too far. It’s ridiculous too, because it would be nearly impossible, and what’s not to say that the Moon would dissolve or something if he steps completely into daylight.
Castiel is staring at him with that same, calm expression, eyes soft and a little bit sad. “I would love that.”
But they both know it can’t happen.
No. No, wait. When has he ever given up on anything, he rules this half of the sky, he can do whatever the hell he damn well pleases.
“Dean,” Castiel can tell what he’s thinking, is pulling his hand up to cradle it between both of his like a silent plea to calm down before he disappoints himself.
“Why not?” He’s getting excited now. He can feel it all, can start planning everything out in his head. “Why couldn’t I take you over here, give you a tour? ‘Because it’s never happened before’? Because I’m starting to think that’s all a bunch of bullshit.”
“If we were caught-“
“What?” Because it’s all starting to sink in. “There’s this fear that we’re going to get caught, but we keep forgetting we’re the ones in charge - we’re royalty - we aren’t doing anything wrong, what could they possibly do to us?”
Castiel looks like he actually has an answer, but he’s just looking at Dean. “We would be... breaking tradition. The Gods could be upset.”
Oh yeah, the Night people, they’re really... traditional. He almost wants to yell at him, tell him to stop caring because he can tell that they both feel that weird connection with each other so...
But he has to be calm.
“If they were really upset - really set on us not meeting - I’m pretty sure they would have done something by now.”
Dean looks at Castiel, pleads with him; pulls his hand away to cradle Castiel’s instead, smoothing his thumb over his skin.
“I want to... to show you my home as well.”
Dean’s heart skips. The idea of going over there, it’s exciting and terrifying.
“We have hours left. Hours left before everybody wakes up, please come with me.”
It doesn’t take much. It really doesn’t take much. Castiel looks like he’s going to refuse and pull away, but suddenly he deflates and nods. There’s a spark of excitement there, but also nervousness. Dean doesn’t blame him for that, but he stands up and pulls Castiel up with him.
And then he just.
Just stares at the light.
Dean feels himself melt a little bit. “C’mon.” He doesn’t let go of his hand, and Castiel steps through all at once, blinking rapidly. But nothing happens. He doesn’t explode or die or melt, he just stands there, the colors of his clothes so much brighter so much more vivid, his eyes shining.
“It’s so warm.” That seems to be Castiel’s favorite thing to say.
“Thanks to yours truly.”
He’s ignored. Those blue robes are swishing and twirling as Castiel steps forward and turns around, looking at the clouds, the grass, the water. There isn’t much to see, not here, but it must be a change. Dean can’t even imagine. But he will soon.
“I believe I am... the very first Moon to ever step into the light of the Sun.”
Yeah... Yeah, Dean’s pretty certain that’s the case.
“No pressure or anything.” Castiel just gives his a look, and Dean squeezes his hand. “Come on, this is nothing.”
He whistles and this time Impala appears in a burst of flames, the tendrils licking over her feathers for half a second before fading away. She stares at Castiel, approaching him slowly, and Dean feels a spike of fear, like she’s going to throw a fit.
But instead she stretches out her wings, and Castiel mimics her in a heartbeat. Dean wants so badly to reach out and touch, but that would be inappropriate. Still, he hopes they’re soft. Feathers are usually soft.
“You just stay with me,” Impala bows low so he can swing a leg over her back and climb on, “and I’ll take you to see the tigers, alright?”
Castiel stretches his wings and leaps over the edge. It looks really... unnatural, seeing a person fly, but it’s beautiful. His robes are designed to flow around him as he soars, and Dean has been doing nothing but stare since he met Castiel, there’s no way he’s stopping now.
Impala leaps and flaps her wings, and it takes a moment for them to line up, but then they’re... they’re flying together. The breeze is perfect and the sky is bright, and Castiel isn’t paying any attention to Dean, just staring at the open Sky around him.
Dean chuckles. “You like it?”
“It’s... the same, but different. Bright. Very bright.”
They reach the town, the castle; Dean’s home. Castiel is staring down at it all with huge eyes, taking it all in, the silence as everybody sleeps. Dean makes a split-second decision and leads Castiel to his room, in through his carved-out Phoenix window.
“Sorry, let me just--“ he pulls his hood off, leaving only his tunic, and Castiel is just.
Still looking at everything.
Gods, Dean wonders if he has some sort of super memory, like he’s saving everything he sees to go over again later. Even the cracks in the wall hold his interest.
Dean can’t help but laugh. It’s precious, it’s really precious. The Moon is in his bedroom.
Oh.
Oh, he means. His room. Where his bed is.
His face heats up anyways, and Castiel is now staring at him, unreadable. Dean clears his throat.
“I’m uh, all good. If you want to go to the forest now. Don’t think walking around the courtyard would be the best idea. Wish I could show you the garden...”
“It’s alright.” And the great thing is that it really does sound like it’s alright. He’s okay with it, he’s not, not disappointed.
They land a few feet away from Dean’s clearing. The line of the trees is too open, so Dean leads them directly to the forest. Its bright and gold, and Castiel looks so out of place; his pale skin, his dark hair, his dark, navy blue clothes.
Every bit as regal as he is. Gods, his very presence...
“The trees are gold.”
Gods, Gods, he sounds so breathy and awed, and if Dean feels any more pride he’s going to burst with it.
“Come here, I want to show you my spot.” He holds his hand out and Castiel takes it without thought, their fingers twining together as they walk. The birds are all looking at them, chirping in confusion, in delight.
“I think they want to meet you.”
Castiel smiles, a sweet thing. “I want to meet them too.”
A branch snaps. There’s a little growl. A tiger emerges, one of the gorgeous pale ones, the golden ones. It purrs and jumps up, wrapping both of its huge arms around Dean and bringing him to the ground in a massive hug, his laughter echoing through the whole forest.
Castiel actually joins him, being knocked down by default, and his laughter is so strong there are tears in his eyes; his voice rich and full and happy.
Dean hugs back, wrapping both arms around it, chuckling into its fur, and it rubs its cheek against Castiel’s head, its purr vibrating through Dean’s entire body. “Hey, buddy, hey.”
“This is a tiger.” He sounds like he’s talking to himself, and Dean just... he just can’t handle how cute it is.
“Mhmm. They like hugs.” His voice lowers and he groans as he tries to escape. “As you can see.”
Castiel is still chuckling, still sounding so happy, and the tiger finally moves back so they can get up, sitting and licking at its paws.
Dean holds out a hand to help Castiel up, and he nearly falls into Dean.
The tiger holds a paw out to Castiel, who takes it and gives it a brief shake.
“His name is Aiyon.”
It lets out a low growl.
“I am happy to meet your acquaintance.”
He’s like a kid. Just like a little kid, like Sammy; so excited by everything around him, the simplest things making him excited.
Dean nods. “Oh yeah, you’re that... you’re the one expecting cubs. How is that, everything good? Your girl doing alright?”
Aiyon nods, bows briefly to them both, and goes on his way, slipping back through the trees towards his home.
“He was very excited to see you.”
Dean chuckles, taking Castiel’s hand again. There’s that little furrow to his brow, like he’s still taking it in.
A few steps. It only takes a few steps and they’re finally in Dean’s clearing, and Dean immediately and automatically falls against his tree, spreading his legs out in front of him, feeling the bark against his back.
“This is your...”
“This is my fish pond.”
“Your fish pond.”
Dean shuts his eyes and listens to Castiel’s footsteps as he explores, slow. He makes a noise when he sees a rabbit, and picks it up, cradling it to his chest and running a hand down its back, bringing it over to Dean and lowering himself, crossing his legs, the rabbit calm and secure in his arms.
“It looks like its bleeding.” Castiel deadpans. Dean opens his eyes. It takes a second, a few seconds for it to really sink in, and he doubles over in laughter, chest heaving.
“I told you they had red fur.”
“You did, but it still looks like its bleeding.”
Dean wheezes and tips his head back against the tree. Castiel is still cradling the rabbit close, and it’s sniffing him all over, curious about his presence here.
His eyes slide shut again. Silence.
It’s comfortable, the quiet.
Tell Dean last month that we would be here, sitting in his forest with the Moon, and he would have laughed. He would have called you crazy. But it's real, and it’s the best Dean’s felt in ages.
He hears the rabbit hop away.
“I like your home. I wish I had the chance to experience it earlier. Your animals are different, and your air feels different, like there’s different energy in the air.”
“Tell me more about your home.”
Castiel shifts to get comfortable, and Dean sits up, suddenly wanting him closer, wanting him so much closer. He opens his arms, and Castiel stares at him for what feels like a full minute before he shuffles closer, adjusting himself and leaning back, back to Dean’s chest. Dean locks his arms around him, holding him close.
His heart is skipping every second beat. Castiel is warm, so so warm, and real, and solid.
Castiel sighs, leaning back against him, relaxing into him. “Dean...”
“Mhmm.” He ducks his face into Castiel’s hair, stroking his thumbs over his stomach.
“You want to hear about my home?”
“Just... talk to me.”
Castiel pauses to think. Dean can feel him breathing, can feel his own chest push against his back when he takes a breath.
“My brother Lucifer has the most beautiful wings. Out of everyone, he is known for them. They are the purest shade of white I have ever seen, and they hold a glow to them, similar to you and I. Townsfolk will come to the castle just to catch a glimpse of them.” He sounds, not jealous, but a little bit sad. “When my wings finally broke my skin, some of my family believed it was a curse. They’ve stopped believing so now, though Lucifer seems to... I really am unsure what he thinks. He looks at them strangely. I wonder if he finds them disgusting.”
He says it so plainly, like it isn’t an insult, just a normal thing, but Dean still squeezes him closer. “They’re not.”
Castiel’s eyes flutter open and then close again. “It means a lot for you to say that.”
“I don’t understand how anybody could find them anything other than gorgeous. Wish I had’em.”
Castiel smiles, and Deans chest bursts with pride. He’s continuing Dean’s request and talking more.
“Hmm. There is a wolf, her name is Elune. She has five pups, and Gabriel is intent on keeping one of them as a pet. I’m not quite sure how that would go over.”
“Wolves aren’t really fond of people?”
“Not the wolves, my brother. He likes to cause mischief, I’m not sure I trust him looking after an animal.”
Dean huffs out a laugh. “Does he hate me for crashing into him?”
“He complained for a while when we got home, but I don’t think he really meant it.”
“Good. I’d hate to have him as an enemy.” He jokes.
Castiel sighs again, and this time Dean notices the slight exhaustion to him, the way it drags out of his mouth. His brow furrows in worry. “Are you still tired?”
“I’m alright.”
“You aren’t,” Dean slides a hand up to cradle his chin, tilting his head back so he’s looking at Dean. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.” He adds as an afterthought.
Castiel fits perfectly under his chin.
“I have been having strange dreams that escape me when I wake. And ‘bad feelings’. But I’m sure it’s nothing, and once I’m with you they go away, so I am alright.”
Dean strokes his thumb over Castiel’s lips. Bad feelings and dreams, his mama taught him, are never just bad feelings, they always mean something. And he can tell Castiel knows this, that he’s truly bothered by it.
“Do you want to sleep?”
Castiel’s eyes widen, so blue and so close. “Here?”
“Mhmm.” Dean drops his hand, wraps his arm against Castiel again. “Right here. With me. Since it helps.”
Castiel goes soft, but he looks unsure. “It’s so bright. And if I am missing... and you should go home.”
“Cas,” it slips out. He doesn’t mean to say it, it just slips out, his voice warm and soft and slightly exasperated. Castiel blinks at him, and then goes boneless, making the most adorable, content noise.
“Sleep,” Dean whispers, and he leans down. He leans down, and kisses Castiel’s - Cas’ - head, lips in his soft hair. “Go to sleep, I’m right here.”
Cas does, but not before Dean picks up the quietest mumble. “Nobody’s ever called me ‘Cas’ before.”
~
Only a few weeks earlier - a month at most - one of Dean’s people had gone missing.
Dean doesn’t think about it. Nobody really does. It hung heavy in the air for many sleeps, people were curious, but nobody had really known the woman, and she was a bit... strange. According to almost everybody, she was always going on about some kind of adventure; of faraway lands, of another world beneath the line of clouds.
There are tales that say special people, people with adventurous hearts, whose true desire is to break through, can make it through the clouds, though they may never return. People still don’t know if they’re true or not.
Regardless, the woman never returned.
So people thought about it, and they whispered, but nobody was really bothered. If the woman got what she wanted, then they had no right to complain. They were happy for her, even though none of them even knew her name.
They continued on, completely oblivious to the truth.
The woman fell. She fell from her Phoenix; fell through the sky, while the bird screamed and dove after her, unable to break through the clouds, unable to follow her.
They have no idea that the woman died, that her Phoenix landed on a nearby island and wept, prepared to die, as Phoenixes do when their masters pass on; to turn to ash, to combust and be reborn as a new egg, as a new bird, to have his memories erased.
But there was something different this time.
This Phoenix loved his master. He cherished her and loved her in ways much different than that of a typical bond. He was rather... rather in love with her. And the guilt swallowed him whole, the grief was a brand new kind of torture, and he waited.
And waited.
But that part of him, that special part of him, that accepted death and accepted his new life, would not come.
The people in the village have no idea that at this moment, a man appeared, with wings that glowed; the brightest of them all. Castiel’s cherished brother.
He surveyed the bird with eyes of a snake, feigning sweetness, and the Phoenix was awed by his presence; bowed to him out of instinct.
“You have lost something precious,” Lucifer said. “And I, myself, have recently lost something dear to me. We are very much alike, you and I.”
The bird, confused and angry, stared at the man, prepared to fly away.
“I can help you. I can help you get her back. In fact,” he pretended to think, tapped his fingers to his chin, hiding a smirk as the Phoenix leaned closer, frozen in place, “I can do much more than that. I can change your form; can turn you into one of us, give you skin. So she may love you in return.”
The bird opened its beak, and Lucifer held up a finger. “Ah, ah, ah. If,” he stood up straighter, hands clasped behind him. “I can help you if, and only if, you help me. It won’t be too hard. Run a few errands, spy on a few people, nothing really physical. Just... a few simple tasks.”
The bird did not think, just nodded frantically, wanting his beloved back.
Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the body of feathers was transformed to one of skin. A man, complete with appropriate, dark clothing. He made a noise of shock and surveyed his new limbs, flexing his fingers.
“How dashing you look. And I did you a favor. You may change forms at will.”
The man licked his lips and spoke, and his voice surprised even him. “What would you have me do?” He could feel fire traveling under his skin, through his bones.
“All I ask is for you to watch your Sun for me. Hide in the cover of your feathers, and report back to me. When I have gathered the information I need, I will bring your love back.”
Lucifer vanished, back to his home, and Elias, the cursed Phoenix, took to the sky.
~
Castiel sleeps for hours, and Dean drifts in and out of consciousness. Most of the time he just thought he was dreaming, when he woke and Cas was still asleep on his chest, head turned and tucked into his neck, his wings spilling out from under him and draping over the ground.
It was all like a really good, really impossible dream. Except it was happening. To Dean. Right now.
He let his fingers spread out, feeling the textures of Cas’ robes, feeling his stomach rise and fall as he takes slow, even breaths. Sometimes he ducked down to kiss his head, just because he could, and Cas always mumbled something in his sleep and made a poor attempt to roll over and closer to Dean.
Even while he was resting, he kept his hardened expression, like he was ready to wake up and start shouting out orders. Dean still didn’t understand him. So naive, yet at the same time he carried himself like royalty, like he was. Like a soldier.
Dean made a pact to never, ever get him mad. Ever. He’s pretty certain he wouldn’t live to tell the tale.
But it was so weird to think, that his other half, the thing holding the very Sky together, was sleeping in Dean’s arms like some sort of child.
Not even weird, fucking strange. Almost wrong, but not like Dean was complaining or anything.
Finally, Cas opened his eyes, slowly, and his entire body froze as he forgot where he was, why it was so damn bright, and his wings made an attempt to come up, nearly slapping Dean across the face while they curled around Cas and blocked out everything.
He chuckles, and Cas makes another little sound and peeks up to look at him. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Dean drawls.
He looks so damn sleepy, and Dean has no idea how he got bed head, but he’s got it, his hair perfectly fluffed.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
“I’ve never hear that expression.”
“Well you have now. Up you get, it’s a beautiful day.”
“Day. Yes.”
Castiel pushes himself off of Dean, and it’s awkward and uncomfortable but they manage. He pokes Dean in the stomach and presses on his ribs, and they both end up laughing as Cas practically rolls off. Dean takes Cas’ offered hand and hauls himself off the ground, his back aches, but he rolls his shoulders and wills it away, soothing his muscles with his inner heat.
“I really...” Cas looks stressed out, now that he’s waking up. His eyes are wide. “I really should be getting home.”
Oh shit. Oh, shit, yeah. Yeah.
And everybody is probably awake now. There’s no way he can just fly over them without being seen. Shit, shit, okay.
“Thank you - for sharing your home with me. I am excited to show you mine. But I really do need to get home before anybody notices that I’m missing.”
“Yeah, of course, but you do realize that --“
“I ‘have it covered’ as you would say.”
He steps forward into Dean’s personal space and reaches up to cradle the back of his head. Dean’s heart is absolutely pounding. But he pulls him down to press their foreheads together, their noses brushing in the process.
“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers, and Dean still can’t breathe.
Cas steps back, flaps his wings, curls them around himself, and when Dean blinks he’s gone. Vanished into thin air.
Oh. That solves that problem.
~
Dean doesn’t really know what soon means, exactly. He thinks it over as he walks back home, and realizes he desperately wants a bath. And a change of clothes.
Impala is in the courtyard with Lily when Dean wanders in. They’re preening each other and talking quietly, cooing back and forth, and Dean smiles as he walks by, around the fountain and up the front steps to the doors.
It’s quite lively today. People are running around through the halls. He finds his way to the main hall. There’s a Phoenix by the wall that Dean doesn’t recognize. He narrows his eyes at it, and it stares right back, something definitely off.
But he ignores it. Must be one of the chef’s.
Right. Bath.
He slips by everybody to get to his room, to his own private washroom, and prepares a perfect bath in a matter of seconds, with none of that girly stuff that his mom likes to put; lavender scents or bubbles. Just warm water and he’s set.
He sinks into it and breathes out, letting the water peel any grime off of his skin while he fiddles with his palm, his little mark.
Which means so much more now. Like some sort of possessive thing, like they’ve claimed each other. Which totally doesn’t make Dean’s stomach flip at all.
~
Later means... later. A little while later. Dean goes back to the island later on and Cas never shows. He goes home with a slump to his shoulders and disappointment settling heavy in his stomach. He wanted to see him, again. Missed him already.
Which is stupid, but he doesn’t care.
Sam is awake when he comes home. Sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed, and Dean freezes as Impala flies away. Sam is just looking at him, tapping his knee like it’s no big deal.
“Sam, I was out --“
“I know where you were.” Sam shrugs, mouth turning down in that typical ‘meh’ face. “You’re an idiot if you think I wouldn’t notice.”
Shit. Shiiit.
“I can, uh.”
“Explain?” Sam chuckles. Dean steps closer to him. “Dean, please. There’s nothing for you to explain, I don’t care.”
Dean, for a moment, wonders if Sam has it all wrong, if he thinks something else of Dean. Because he should definitely care, most people would care. Sam is just looking at his face, and he huffs, blowing his bangs out of his face and rolling his eyes.
“You like him.” Sam shrugs again. “I just came by here to, ya know, let you know that I know.”
For fuck’s sake, does everybody know?
Sam chuckles. “No, not everybody knows. And no I didn’t read your mind. I just...” He scrunches up his nose. “You’re my brother. I just wanted to make it clear that I’m not gonna run and tell everybody, and I’m not gonna be a judgemental prick about it.”
Dean slumps. “Yeah?”
“Even though you are acting like a teenage girl.” Dean huffs. What was he expecting? But Sam is just smiling. “No, seriously, you are. Sneaking out and staring at your hand like it holds the secrets of life. Not really subtle. Well, to me anyways.”
“Uuhhhh.” Dean isn’t really sure what he’s supposed to say. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. No, really. Don’t mention it. If you two are off doing - whatever - I don’t wanna know.”
“Sam. For fuck’s sake we just talk.”
“Suuuure you do.”
Dean glares.
“Go to sleep, Dean. You look like you need it.” His nose scrunches up. “Ew. I don’t want to know why.”
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sam.”
“Going, going.” He stands up and wraps Dean up in a hug, which Dean gladly returns. “Sweet dreams, Dean.”
“Sleep well, Sammy.”
And then the door is closing. And Dean wonders just how many other encounters he’s going to have with people in his room knowing everything about him.
~
Dean dreams about the koi fish. He dreams of him and Cas walking in the gardens, in the shadows. He hears wolves howling and the small splashes of the water when the fish swim. He imagines mountains, imagines stars.
He and Cas walk everywhere, their hands clasped. They watch the water; sit on the shore of a great lake side by side, making shapes. Dean creates a tunnel, morphs it into a dragon, lets it go and laughs as the water rains down and soaks them both.
The wolf cubs stumble and run along the sand, leaving tiny paw prints.
It’s peaceful. But Cas isn’t looking at him. He’s staring out at the water with a blank expression. Not even blinking, just staring, his wings locked in place behind him. Dean waves a cautious hand in front of his face but gets nothing.
He hears himself say “Cas?”, and feels dread, but doesn’t know why.
A bird cries, but he wakes up in bed to Impala looking down at him, head cocked to the side, and he’s not sure if the sound was in his dreams or not.
~
Dean, like the townspeople, like every other person in the castle, is oblivious to the Phoenix flying above. He doesn’t see him on the castle rooftop or flying over the forest. He doesn’t notice that he’s being watched, that when he tucked Cas against him in his clearing, there was a set of eyes trained on him.
He doesn’t know that the bird crosses the border, landing with grace, transforming to a man already kneeling before his leader.
Lucifer knows. He knows everything. His brothers are idiots, and they fail to notice their own prince is vanishing when they all go off to dreamland, but he knows. And Castiel is every bit as correct as he is powerful.
Lucifer’s wings may be bright, but it means nothing. Even with Castiel’s disfiguration, with his charred feathers, he still has the love and respect of every single one of just subjects. Just because of a title and a bit of extra magic.
And that cannot be allowed to continue. Lucifer is older, he deserves the power, deserves the attention that was his to begin with. He will not lose out to his brother simply because he was born a little different. The Moon can be damned; Lucifer will be the new Moon.
And his brother has made it all that much easier. His plans have changed. Now he can have both. Castiel has lured the Sun right into his arms, and his spy has made it all that much easier. If dear Castiel were to go missing, or be injured, per se, it would only take one messenger falcon to have the Sun in a complete panic.
He’ll run willingly to Lucifer. Will give up his power to spare his dear, beloved friend, and the Sky will be completely in Lucifer’s control.
So simple, yet foolproof.
Perfect.
~
Dean spends a day in town with his brother and Jess. His hands fiddle in his pockets without rest, but he continues smiling as he watches Sam continue in his attempts to woo Jess. Completely ridiculous things, and Dean has to hide his smirk behind his hand. Sam is the smartest kid Dean knows, but he can’t see the most obvious truth.
He won Jessica’s heart a long time ago. She’s told him this but he still continues to try and prove himself to her, and it’s really stupidly adorable. Like a giant puppy, Sam is relentless. He holds her hand and opens doors for her and pays for their lunch, and Dean doesn’t mind at all that he’s just there to tag along.
Not really sure why Sam invited him to begin with, but he has nothing better to do.
Everywhere they go he’s met with a polite nod and a ‘sire’. Every person that passes is sure to wave or curtsey or offer him free gifts.
But mostly he just spends his time trailing along, thinking about why Cas hasn’t sent him any messages lately. It’s been a few sleeps, over a week, and nothing. They only met twice; maybe Dean pushed the whole cuddly thing too fast. It is a bit weird for him; maybe Cas is really not into the whole touchy touchy-ness.
He did leave really fast.
But then some little nagging and irritating part of Dean’s brain reminds him that Cas was smiling and pulled their foreheads down together, and Dean could feel the affection radiating off of him, it was obvious.
So he must just be really, really busy. Nightly Moon duties and all that. Dean’s lucky that he never really has a lot of work to do.
Focusing on more important things, he keeps Sam in his sight and thinks about what he’s going to do when he invites Cas back here. To his home. One of these days they’re going to have to let somebody know. Better that way than everybody else finding out on their own.
And sneaking around isn’t really... ideal.
Dean could live with it, sure, but he wants Cas to see the town when it thrives; when there are festivals and everybody dances. He wants to tour the castle with him, Gods, he wants to just.
Stop it, Dean. Stop, just.
Stop.
Sam shouts for him and he hurries ahead, but his eyes are unfocused, and his mind is a mess.
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