Castiel sat on the hood of the Impala, his legs pulled up to his chest and his arms around his knees. His blue eyes looked up at the sky, a deep, dark blue, dotted with the dazzling, brilliant white of the stars, the land illuminated by the cool kith of the nearly full moon. It was becoming colder as the days grew shorter and the nights grew longer, and it was all so new to Castiel; he felt cold for the first time, and the feeling both terrified and excited him. He'd always been so fascinated by humanity, and now - now he could experience it. He definitely wasn't accustomed to it, and there was a large part of him that wished he weren't human.
Castiel sighed, lowering his chin down onto his knees, his heavy-lidded eyes nearly closing with sleep. He wasn't used to feeling tired yet; he'd always been fascinated by the idea of dreaming and sleeping, and now he finally felt it. The feeling of sleepiness was odd to him; he both loved and loathed it in equal measures. He loved it because it made him want to lay down with a blanket and slip away into comfort, only to wake up feeling relaxed and rested—but he hated it because while he knew he was supposed to wake up relaxed and rested, he never did. Instead, he was plagued by guilt-ridden nightmares, ones he couldn't escape in his sleep.
"You okay?" A voice asked, and Castiel jumped slightly in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden presence. He turned his head with curiosity and interest, vaguely surprised to see Dean standing there by the Impala, a robe covering his pyjamas, as well as a large blanket hanging on his shoulders. Castiel recognised that blanket - the one that rested on Dean's bed. He always wondered if it was as soft as it looked. "I'm fine." Castiel nodded, though it was only a half-truth. He was surprised that he didn't hear the hunter approach; he's so used to being able to feel him coming near.
Dean rolled his eyes, making a soft noise of disbelief in the back of his throat. Castiel sighed again, resting his head on his knees and gazing back up at the sky with near hopeful blue eyes. Dean frowned, walking closer to the Impala and climbing carefully atop it, sitting next to Castiel and looking up at the sky as well. He watched the sky as if he were waiting for something - anything - whether it was a shooting star or a falling angel or a sign from Heaven that everything was alright. "What are you looking at?" Dean asked, his voice soft in the night as he looked at the cloudless sky. "Home." Castiel answered. Dean stayed quiet for a few moments, almost as if he were thinking something over, considering every aspect - overanalysing something.
"Aren't you cold?" He asked finally, looking at Castiel. He was wearing the pyjamas issued to him by the boys, which generally consisted of plaid-patterned flannel pants and a regular t-shirt. While the pants were soft and warm, the shirt was a bit thin, and his arms had goosebumps on them from the cold weather and the chilly breeze. Castiel nodded slightly, almost solemnly. "Slightly." He answered quietly, looking back at Dean then. Dean nodded as if he'd anticipated this, shifting slightly on the Impala and removing the blanket from his shoulders. He handed the blanket to Castiel, who just held it in confusion as Dean began removing his robe.
Dean quickly removed the robe and began folding and balling it up, transforming it into a mostly-functional pillow for two. He placed the pillow on the front window of the Impala before he took the blanket from Castiel's arms, nodding in the direction of the makeshift pillow. "Lay." He ordered, though the command was gentle and soft. Castiel was still mildly confused, though he followed orders nonetheless. He lay down slowly, his head resting against his half of the robe-pillow, his hands folding over his stomach as he watched Dean. The metal of the Impala was cold beneath his bare arms, causing him to shiver slightly.
Slowly, Dean began lowering himself beside Castiel, laying on his back with his head on his half of the pillow, his arms reaching out and sliding the large blanket over the both of them. As the thick, soft fabric brushed against Castiel's skin, he smiled warmly; it was as soft as he had imagined, perhaps even softer. They lay side by side, both of them focusing their eyes on the bright stars above them. The world seemed less frightening to Castiel now. Nothing had changed, really - he still didn't understand much and he still had plenty to learn. But here, beside Dean, beneath his blanket and a blanket of stars, Castiel felt safe. He knew he wasn't as powerful as before, but he felt guarded with Dean, as if everything was right in the world, and as though no harm could come to him. He wondered if he had ever made Dean feel that way, back when Castiel considered himself capable of protecting his hunter.
As if Dean had sensed what was on Castiel's mind, the blankets shifted as Dean moved his hand over to Castiel. Dean's hand found Castiel's arm, and he slowly and gently trailed his fingertips down his bare skin to his fingers. Prying Castiel's hands apart, Dean laced his own fingers with Castiel's, holding his hand firmly and gently, giving his hand a comforting, reassuring squeeze, like he needed to feel Castiel and make sure he was really there, really back. "What was it like?" Dean asked. His voice was so soft that Castiel barely heard it.
A soft, melancholy smile lit Castiel's face as he went back on his memories - he focused mainly on the better ones instead of the bitter ones, of course. "It was... Magical, I suppose. Peaceful, usually - before the civil war erupted." He said thoughtfully, his voice holding an almost nostalgic tone to it. Dean laughed softly, causing Castiel to look at him with a confused expression. "What's so funny?" Castiel asked. Dean chuckled again, shaking his head. "I'm just imagining you and all your weird-ass siblings playing beach volleyball on the white sands of Heaven." He said delightfully, grinning in that cheeky manner that made Castiel both roll his eyes and grin.
"You know that isn't what it was like," Castiel said, returning his attention to the sky. He squeezed Dean's hand softly, a small sign of affection and adoration that meant so much. Dean grinned, leaning closer and nuzzling his face into the space between Castiel's shoulder and his chin. Dean's lips brushed against Castiel's neck as he spoke, his words hushed and warm. "Tell me what it was like. I wanna know. I promise I won't make fun of it anymore." Dean said, and Castiel could hear the smile in his voice and the smile against his skin. So Castiel did. They lay together, Dean's face buried in Castiel's neck, their fingers intertwined, Dean listening intently and making noises of commentary as Castiel reminisced, telling story after story until they both fell asleep under the blanket of stars.