"Cas, where the hell are you?"
Dean enters the motel room in a hurry, his cheeks flushed from the weather outside. Cas was supposed to be waiting here for him, and Dean's sure he couldn't have zapped anywhere, since he's obviously out of mojo.
"Come on, dude, gotta talk to you before Sam gets back."
There is definitely something wrong with Sam, but Bobby thinks they should wait and Dean hates waiting.
"Cas? Where the hell are you-"
Dean passes by the window opening to the backyard, and something catches his attention there. It's Castiel, just standing there on the grass next to a pine tree, and his hair and shoulders are already covered in snow.
"What the hell are you doing out there?" Dean wonders out loud, puts his jacket back on, and walks out of the room, circling the building.
"...Cas?" he approaches the angel carefully. Castiel's head is tilted slightly towards the sky, his hands in his pockets, and he seems, if anything, peaceful.
"Whatcha doing out here, man? What's going on?" Dean asks gently.
"...It's snowing, Dean," Cas replies softly.
Dean lifts an eyebrow. The snowflakes are big and sort of heavy, and for some time, the only sound is the patting they produce as they land on their shoulders.
"...You're acting like you've never seen snow before," Dean attempts, and Castiel actually chuckles at that, a quiet, tender sound.
"You're acting like you don't care about snow," he replies and adds, after a while, "I'm just appreciating it."
Dean sighs.
"Yeah, man, that's great an' all, but I really need to talk to you about-"
"Dean. Please."
"...But, dude, it's Sam, there's something wrong and I-"
"Dean."
Castiel's voice is ever so gentle, but it stops Dean dead. The angel closes his eyes and inhales softly.
"Thank you," he mumbles, and resumes his glaring at the white.
Oh, great, Dean thinks.
"Okay, you just appreciate your snow, man. I'm gonna head inside and whenever you're ready to talk about serious issues, like there's something seriously wrong with my brother who has just returned from frikkin' Hell, then-"
His voice dies in his throat when Castiel's fingers envelop his own. His first reaction is to jerk away, but Cas looks at him, his eyes suddenly very blue, and besides, he's not fondling him or anything. His fingers just brush softly at Dean's palm, and Cas smiles a little smile.
"How about you stay out here a little longer, Dean? It might... 'clear your head', if you will."

And Dean does, not even being perfectly sure why, and they stand side by side, and maybe, after a while, he starts thinking it's actually awesome. The snow, yes, but also the fact that Cas - an angel, a being who has lived for thousands and thousands of years, who has seen things beyond his, or any one's, understanding, is suddenly rendered speechless by snow. The fact that an angel is capable of appreciating things humans will simply dismiss as everyday.

Dean thinks maybe, maybe I could just stop and watch every now and then, and he almost forgets everything that's been troubling him - and it's only when he's about to tug his hands into his pockets because the cold starts nibbling at them unpleasantly that he realizes his fingers had been tangled with Castiel's all that time. Dean's second of hesitation is enough, Cas grips his hand a little tighter and pulls it into the pocket of his trenchcoat, along with his own. Dean has to step a little closer to him not to lose balance.
"Um..." he mumbles.
"Just appreciate it, Dean," Castiel responds, and even though Dean would like to convince himself that the angel is talking merely about the snow, his fingers might close a little tighter around Cas' wrist.
"Okay," he says, and listens to the sound of his own beating heart, suddenly much louder than the hissing of snowflakes.

Thanks for reading! R&R? :}