As a little child, way before his brother was born, Dean Winchester had been deathly afraid of windstorms.
The woman in the television always kept saying those awful things: trees twisted, cars broken, people injured, roofs ripped off... Dean had the goosebumps every single time he saw pictures taken or videos recorded of storms like that. His Mom would always hold him close and whisper comforting words into his ear, like, 'angels are watching over you, you'd be okay honey'. They usually worked, at least until the next time a windstorm sweeped over Lawrence.
Dean thought he lost this phobia, this crushing fear that always kept him under the blanket during the windy nights. But he never really did; he just locked it away, because he didn't need something else so ridiculous when he had to fight a way more serious dread: the constant fear of death. Either his or Sammy's, it didn't matter. It was there, and the wind just didn't matter anymore. He didn't quite understood the reason why he had been so shaken by those storms back then, but he never searched for the explanation. It was almost forgotten.
Right until Purgatory.
There wasn't a separate day-time and night-time. It was raven black and icy all the time, like the tough winter nights Sammy and he had to spend in the Impala two or three years before. Back then it all seemed like a temporary period that would pass sooner or later - the older Winchester would've never guessed he would need to feel that bone freezing wind again, like ever.
Yet, there he was, clinging to the bark of a tree desperately, panting like he just ran the marathon. His system ran on his spares and the only thing that kept him from falling apart was the wildly rushing adrenaline mixed in his blood. He imagined his death like a dozen times in 30 years, but he never saw himself collapsing from exhaustion and dying in freaking Purgatory. It wasn't... good enough. He needed a proper death, like the one including the hellhounds and Lilith. At least he died for a good case that time. Now? Death would probably laugh in his rotting face, murmuring something about a lost bet under his breath. Dean was sure the old man had a thing or two up in his sleeve, and it all seemed so ridiculous right now.
He can't die in Purgatory, not like this. He just can't.
"Dean."
The sudden weight on his shoulder almost made him scream out loud like some sixteen year old girl and at least 7 ways of killing the unexpected visitor had slipped his mind, but the ocean blue eyes filled with worry immediately relaxed him.
"Cas," he breathed out and leant his back to the tree again, covering his face with his palm. He wanted to yell at the angel for scaring him like this, or more likely, disappearing on him like he did about 6 and half minutes ago and leaving him alone with that werewolf and the vampires, but he was too tired. He was afraid even to blink because he might possibly fall asleep right away, so he just kept staring into the dark, then eventually at Castiel's face. It held too many emotions, but some of them were too complex for Dean to figure out. It didn't have much significance anyway.
"Dean, I have a good reason to presume that I found a cave which could give us proper accommodation for the time being."
Dean lazily led his glance back to Castiel's urging eyes and would have loved to ask a few questions about the cave's whereabouts or its safety but when he next looked around, they were already standing in that very cave. Dean didn't even have the chance to argue, he just collapsed onto the floor and took a deep breath.
"You should have some rest," Castiel suggested carefully, tilting his head slightly to the side, clearly observing Dean's tired form curled up before him. "I will be guarding you."
The hunter was just about to close his eyes and drift into a probably way too shallow sleep when the sky outside of the cave lit up in brightness then went black again. Dean wasn't fast enough with asking what was it so the ground shaking sound of the thunder swallowed his words and only the distant echo responded to his question. He seemed clueless and turned his head to Castiel, just in time to see the angel's dirty trenchcoat streaming and feeling the cold wind on his face. Then came the next lightning, along with its constant companion, the explosion-like bang.
It was enough for the sleepiness to disappear into thin air and the childhood memories to come back to his mind vividly in a second.
He was tired of being afraid all the time but he couldn't beat this one. Not this time. And it was only the beginning of the storm which Dean supposed would be a thousand times worse in Purgatory than on Earth. Because it was created to kill off a few weaker monsters, making some spare space for the rest that was about to come later.
"Dean?"
For a second Dean totally forgot about the angel that just promised to be his guardian for the next few hours, and when he stared up at the ex-soldier of the Lord with wide eyes, trying his best to hide his fear, he swallowed hard. Of course, it couldn't escape that easily and Castiel spotted it out without hesitation.
"Am I right if I have the suspicion you are nervous now?"
Yeah, well, I just freaked out by the anger of God, no worries, Cas. Dean really didn't want to say this, so he kept it in his mind and cracked a not too believable smile at his friend instead.
"No, I'm fine. I'm just... tired."
"I don't sense that anymore," Cas shook his head and took one step closer. He didn't even care he had to shout now because of the loud howling of the wind. It seemed like he wasn't putting any effort into staying on his feet, and it truly amazed Dean, but it was only 10% of his thoughts. The rest of them were actually panicking about the whole Katrina that was wreaking havoc outside, and it wasn't too pleasant to tell the least.
"I'm fine," he repeated with less patience in his voice now. The hunter had to force himself not to sigh loudly in relief when the angel joined him on the ground, sitting close to him, resting his forearms on his knees. "At least we know why all those sons of bitches fled and left me there untouched."
It's just a storm, Winchester. You have the holy tax accountant by your side, and he could make a greater mess with his powers, yet you feel safer with him. So shut the hell up and calm down.
"I can make it easier for you, Dean," Cas said gingerly, blinking gently at the hunter. "So you wouldn't have to be afraid until the storm passes."
"How exactly?" Dean sounded way more distraught than he wanted, but the lump in his throat wouldn't stop growing as the storm strengthened and he was just about to have a mental breakdown in a very short amount of time. That is why he didn't care how he sounded - he wanted any help Castiel could offer right now.
The angel had his old, almost-smile on his lips, and slowly raised his hand, touching his fingers gently to Dean's temple. The noises magically faded out until there was nothing to hear but only to feel (though, it wasn't the same either). Dean's lips parted in surprise as he stared at the raving windstorm outside, but heard nothing, only his own rapid heartbeat in his ears and Castiel's silent breathing. It was quiet, calm and eternally peaceful, minus the scenery outside.
"Wow," he breathed out with a growing smile and sent a grateful look in Castiel's direction. "It's useful. I mean, this ability of yours."
"My powers are notably limited down here, but I suppose it's the least I can do for you to ease your discomfort," the angel said humbly and tore his glance from Dean. He seemed so small and lost, Dean's heart sank at the sight.
"Nevertheless, I'm still thankful," he nodded with the same smile, but earned nothing from Castiel, only a curious look and raised eyebrows.
"Why are you so afraid of storms?" The question was simple, yet it left Dean completely without answers and it confused him way more than he expected.
"I don't know. It's a childhood thing," Dean shrugged and tried to remember the exact point when he was first freaked out by a stronger gust of wind, but it all blurred together. Maybe it wasn't a point but the result of a process. Tiny fears pugged together. "I haven't felt this fear for decades. It used to scare the hell out of me, you know. Knowing wind could ruin everything. It could take away people's lives, destroy buildings, cars, homes... It would make a kid freak out anytime. It's not that strange."
"Maybe you thought you lost the fear because you didn't have a home to be worried about in the first place."
Castiel's voice was low and silent, barely a whisper, yet it blew a hole in Dean's soul. Their eyes met and the hunter's shock was almost palpable in the air. A hint of guilt appeared in Castiel's eyes, like he regretted what he just said, but before Dean could get himself together, the angel spoke again.
"You had Sam all along as a company. He was your home, and you wasn't afraid of losing him in a storm like this because you were positive you would look after him, no matter how strong the winds would blow. Then you lost him, you are here, and you don't have your home with you. Anything could happen to it, and you are scared."
Well, thanks for the helpful analysis, Dr. Phil, I feel much better now.
Even if Cas only meant good, sarcasm was just about to strike down, but Dean held it back. He restrained his only defense, the only guard he had left - only because he couldn't take it anymore. The angel was right in everything, and risking the one person the hunter could trust in this hell of a place was not an option. Not anymore.
So he gave in, and opened up. Without a blink.
"Well, I am screwed but..." Dean let out a soft chuckle, finding the ground really interesting suddenly so he kept staring at it in slight embarassment. "You are probably right."
"Hold onto it tightly, Dean." Castiel's voice was stronger now; not much, but enough to grab the Winchester's attention again so they held each other's gaze intensely. "Never let it go. It will keep you human in this lifeless shell of a world. Your fears and demons will haunt you out of here."
Dean's heart was pounding hard now, and he had to force himself not to look away. He saw something in Castiel's eyes that made him worry, and before he could do anything stupid, like asking him to turn background music back on or something like that, he wanted to find out what was that glimmer in the endless blue he just spotted.
"And what's keeping you human?" Dean asked carefully, almost being afraid of the answer in advance.
Castiel's face softened and that so familiar half-smile appeared on his lips again. Dean could've sworn he knew what the answer was going to be even before the words were formed on the angel's mind.
"Not 'what', but 'who'."