tenoko1: (SPN: Eyes that follow)
[personal profile] tenoko1

Title: Thinking of you

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Genre: Comfort

Rating: PG

Spoilers: thru 8.10

Summary: He made a point to think something reassuring in Cas’ direction at least once a day, sometimes telling him a story of something funny that happened, generally at Sam’s expense, in the hopes to amuse the angel.

They’re outside of Kansas City when the sound of Darth Vadar’s breathing erupts from his phone, letting him know he’s gotten a text message from Charlie. She somehow changed it on his phone, and not even Sam can figure out how to change it back.

Charlie: How goes it, bitches?

We’re in Kansas.

Charlie: You boys playing nice?

Yes, Mom.

Charlie: Your mom was pretty kickass. I accept the compliment.

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head in dismissal as Sam glances over at him with a curious expression from the driver’s seat.

“Charlie,” he says by way of explanation, though given the sound effects his phone is giving off, he knows Sam knows who he’s talking to. But it also explains his amusement as well.

Charlie: How are things with your friend?

Which one?

Charlie: The one you’re still friends with. Your only friend, apparently.

His name is Cas. Haven’t seen him since we tried to save Alfie and he took his brother home for the funeral.

Charlie: Have you tried praying? You said you did that in Purgatory.

Dean pauses, thumbs over the keys on his phone. It’s a lot to try and explain through texting. Not really a texting conversation. How could he explain that to her? Purgatory was… well, Purgatory. He was not leaving without Cas, a constant, almost desperate need to find the angel always at the forefront of him mind. He was worried about Cas, and about his safety, knew they stood a better chance together, and above all, he wasn’t leaving the angel on his own with no one to watch his back for him.

They weren’t in Purgatory anymore. As far as Dean knew, there wasn’t really anyone aside from Crowley that was gunning for the angel, and well, Crowley had his hands full with plenty of other things at the moment that chasing down Cas? Not really on his list of priorities.

That was different.

Charlie: I’d say not. He’s still clearly in a bad spot and could probably use the backup.

I can’t exactly go to wherever he is, Charlie. He’s got me at a disadvantage.

Charlie: You can, probably in a way better than going to him physically. He can hear you.

I’m not gonna call him back, Charlie. He’s staying away for a reason. He probably needs time. What happened with Alfie… I can’t imagine how hard that hit him, especially after everything else.

Charlie: That’s what I’m saying. Send him ‘Thinking of you’ cards via prayer. Remind him you’re there, that you’ll always be there, that what happened wasn’t his fault. Remind him he isn’t alone.

Charlie: And any professions of undying devotion, while appreciated, prbly not a good time for. Save that for when he comes back.

You’re hilarious.

Charlie: Srsly, tho. He needs you right now, even if he can’t bring himself to come home. Be there.

Charlie: I promise not to tell Sam you’re getting in touch with your chick flick side.

He snorted with laughter again and pocketed his phone, after setting it to silent. Her words mulled over in his head, making him wonder why he hadn’t thought of it before. Well, okay, he had, but he didn’t want Cas to feel like he was crowding him or being overprotective or paranoid not trusting him.

They knew something was wrong with Cas. They didn’t think it was Cas’ fault. They also knew that whatever was causing the angel to behave the way he was, was probably keeping on eye on them as well, and the general situation at hand, which left him having to filter what he could and could not say to the angel, or even about him.

He took Charlie’s advice though, going one step further, texting Cas the exact same thing he prayed in his head whenever he did. He made a point to think something reassuring in Cas’ direction at least once a day, sometimes telling him a story of something funny that happened, generally at Sam’s expense, in the hopes to amuse the angel.

I’m sorry about Alfie. Didn’t get a chance to say it before. I really liked the kid.

Cas, hang in there. We’re here if you need us.

The country side we’re driving through is actually amazing to look at, Cas. I think you’d like it. Attachment.

So, there may or may have not been an incident with the laundry this week because of something someone left in the machines. All of Sam’s shirts now have a pink undertone. I’ve taken to calling him ‘Princess Sammy’. He’s not appropriately amused.

I know you have your hands full, but I’m here if you need a break.

If you get a minute, feel free to pencil me in for a coffee. I’ll buy you a slice of pie.

Sam completely embarrassed himself in front of some nurses at a hospital we were asking questions at. Like, really badly. I’m still laughing at him. I think his hair turned red he blushed so bad. Wish you could have seen it.

Thought you’d like this. Attachment.

I know I don’t say it, but I’m here if you need me for anything. I’ve got your back, no matter what, Cas.

I don’t know how things are where you are, but if you ever need to talk, or company w/ no talking. I’m here.

Sam says ‘hi’. If you’ve been getting girlish messages of teary-eyed concern from him, I’m sorry. I don’t know how he grew into such a huge girl.

Oh, btw, our friend Charlie says ‘hi’ and hopes to meet you one day. She’s the girl that helped us with Dick #1. I think we’ve officially adopted as the little sister neither of us wanted.

Think how overbearingly protective Sam and I would have been if we’d grown up with a little sister. Good God. Talk about a need for therapy.

Charlie said she’d been praying to you. Anything bad she has to say about us is completely lies. Ignore her. Well, I don’t she can come up with anything worse than what you already know we’ve done.

Are we clogging up Angel Radio?

To quote, because I’m not this girly: Thinking of you, wherever you are.

Hey, Cas, if you need a break, drop in, we’ll go for burgers. You know you love them, don’t even lie. You’re an angel.

I know you’re a kickass AOtL, but don’t forget to come home some times.

You better not be completely ignoring me, Cas. I’m still here if you ever need me.

Whenever you’re ready to come home, let us know, we’ll tell you where we are.

Weeks have passed, and still no word back from Cas. They’re in Ohio, and it’s miserable and cold, and Dean hates it. The room’s heating sucks royally. Sam is at the library, and Dean thinks it’s only for the sake of better heating and hot coffee. Truthfully, if Dean had somewhere to go to escape the permanent chill they can’t quite chase from the room, he’d be there. Instead, he’s sitting on his bed watching TV, one of the extra blankets he’d gotten from the front desk thrown over his legs as he watches Doctor Who and compares the differences between the Tenth and Eleventh Doctor.

A knock at the door draws his attention, tentative and soft. House keeping shouldn’t be coming by, unless it’s Sam and his hands are full, then again, he usually kicks at the bottom of the door until Dean opens up.

Throwing off the blanket, Dean crosses the room, only mildly surprised to see Castiel standing on the other side, gaze flicking up to not quite meet Dean’s before dropping again.

“Hello, Dean.”

The hunter steps to the side, allowing the angel entrance. Cas inclines his head as he enters, and Dean shuts the door behind him, watching as Cas lets his gaze roam over the room, like he’s hasn’t seen the inside of their hotel rooms hundreds of times before. It’s a long moment before Castiel turns around to face him, still not quite meetings Dean’s gaze.

Not giving himself time to think about it, Dean takes the step needed to get in Cas’ personal space, wrapping his arms around the angel’s shoulders like he’d done when he finally found him in Purgatory, feeling the way Cas stiffened under the touch.

“Welcome home,” he tells him softly, squeezing tighter as he feels the other man’s arms come up to encircle him.

“I got your message.” He pauses and buries in face in Dean’s sweatshirt. “Thank you.”

Anytime, Cas, Dean thinks, feeling the way the angel’s cheek lifts in a smile.



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