Castiel notices the guy for the first time in the bar on Tuesday. He's sitting in the corner by himself, shoulders hunched under a weathered leather jacket, giving everyone in the bar an intense once-over. It's almost as if he's looking for someone. Castiel's still watching him when the guy turns his gaze toward him and something in his eyes lights up. Castiel leaves in a hurry.
He should've known it wouldn't have been that easy to ditch the guy. He's everywhere Castiel goes, always lurking around the corner in that damn jacket. It's gotten to the point where Castiel is actually considering going up and talking to the man, if only to swipe some of his hair and hex him into oblivion.
He briefly considers this plan as he exits the grocery store and sees the man leaning against a brick wall, near the entrance of an alley. The guy is watching him again, but it almost looks as if he's scanning the area around him too, on the lookout for threats. As soon as Castiel takes more than a few steps toward him, something flickers across the guy's face (confusion, maybe?) before he turns and disappears into the alley. Without thinking, Castiel follows him, stopping in the entrance. The man isn't there. The only living creature in the gloomy place is a ragged looking German Sheppard that whines when it steps in a puddle. Castiel walks away.
Over the next few weeks, Castiel sees less of the man and more of the dog, and he starts to wonder if the two are connected somehow. It's only as he's walking towards the entrance to his apartment building and sees the guy standing just outside the light of a street lamp that he finally decides to talk to him.
He heads towards the guy, slightly surprised when he doesn't run away again. The man seems more distracted than usual tonight, flinching when Castiel says "Hello."
His head snaps up and Castiel can see fear in impossibly green eyes. It almost makes him regret his next sentence. "I've noticed you've been following me."
The man ducks his head and coughs. "I'm sorry." His voice is rougher than Castiel expected, almost like it hasn't been used in a while.
His response confuses Castiel, but he ignores it for a more pressing question. "You're not a hunter, are you?"
The guy lets out a harsh laugh. "Hell no."
One last question. "Where's your dog?"
The head snaps up again, the eyes more interested than scares this time. "You don't - I don't have a dog."
Castiel frowns. "Yes, you do. I've seen it. That mangy German Sheppard."
The guy grimaces. "Oh. That dog."
Cas sighs impatiently. "Yes, that dog. So where is he?"
The man bites his lip and darts his gaze around the area quickly. "He's, uh, he's right here." He bends down, and at first Castiel thinks he's picking something up off he ground until there's a cracking sound and the man is gone.
The dog stands before him, ears dropped low, tail tucked between its legs. It looks even worse up close, entire clumps of fur missing, angry red slashes across its front legs, so thin he can see its ribs protruding on the sides. He can recognize the strange man in its features now. The almost same shade of hair, the tired eyes, the desperate look about them both.
"Oh." Castiel says quietly, as realization dawns on him. "You're a familiar."
Suddenly the man is standing there again, rubbing the back of his neck. He coughs again and Castiel realizes that it's probably not a nervous tick and that the man is actually sick. Now that he's made the connection between dog and man, he can almost hear the constant growl beneath the man's words as he speaks again. "Your familiar, actually."
"Mine?" Castiel breathes and regrets every time he'd thought he guy was a freak. He was just taking a roundabout way of protecting him. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"You ran away the first time. Figured you didn't want me. But I needed to stay around and protect you. I couldn't just leave." He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets before offering weakly. "My name's Dean."
"Castiel." He tries to say it with a smile, almost excited. He's always loved the idea of a familiar, but never thought he'd actually have one. "It's very nice to meet you, Dean."
Dean meets his eyes carefully. "Really?"
"Of course." Castiel frowns. "Now, I'm not sure how this usually works, but I do know I need some sleep. Would you like to talk again tomorrow?"
Dean nods slowly. "I can just come back here in the morning."
He turns to walk away but Castiel stops him by talking. "I actually have work then, but I always stop for coffee first, I can pick you up on my way. Where do you live?"
Dean doesn't answer.
"Dean?" He reaches out to set a hand on Dean's shoulder but the other man steps out of reach.
When he speaks, his voice cracks a little. "I sleep down by the pier. It's not a big deal, and they usually throw out good scraps in the mornings so it's fine." He sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than Castiel.
"Oh my god." Castiel whispers as everything slides into place. Dean has been homeless for over a month, not doing anything but watching over Castiel because he somehow got the insane idea that Castiel wouldn't want him. It also accounts for the fact that Dean has been spending more time as a dog recently, because people are definitely more inclined to give handouts to a dog rather than a man. Castiel can see Dean fiddling with his sleeves, most likely trying to cover those scratches he saw on the dog. Dean is injured and starving and Castiel isn't doing a damn thing.
"When was the last time you ate?" He demands as he grabs Dean's wrist before he can flinch away again and starts walking towards his apartment.
"Um, two days ago." Is the mumbled reply. "Where are we going?"
It's obvious Dean doesn't care that he's hurting himself and Castiel is so angry he wants to tear his hair out. As he unlocks the door, he says, "We're going into my apartment to get you some food and a shower and an actual place to sleep. We'll figure out the bonding later." When Dean looks ready to bolt, Castiel pushes him through the open door with a little help from his magic. "No arguing."
Dean looks terrified as Castiel hands him a towel and shows him how to work the shower. He only nods when asked if he likes macaroni and cheese. By the time he's stepping out of the bathroom and Castiel is telling him that his clothes are getting washed but here have these old pajamas of mine he looks ready to cry. When he sits down at the kitchen table to eat his dinner, he actually does.
"Dean, what's wrong?" Castiel asks softly.
"Nothing." Dean rubs at his eye with the back of his hand and stares at the tear tracks as if they've personally betrayed him. "This is just, just the nicest someone has been to me in a long time."
Castiel makes a silent vow right then and there to find everyone who's ever hurt Dean and curse them to hell and back.
As Castiel changes into his own pajamas, he wonders how long Dean will stay. When he tells Dean that he can sleep in Castiel's king-sized bed and sees the gratefulness in his eyes, he thinks about how he'll have to change his daily routine. When he tries to leave the room, Dean grabs his wrist, whispering "Stay, Cas. Please." As he settles behind his familiar, his heart pressed to Dean's spine, his hand gripping Dean's shoulder, he thinks he can get used to this.