Castiel had never minded the cold before. Of course, he had never been exposed to it like this ever in his life, but still. Where had his shoes gone? He only paused a moment to mourn their loss before continuing down the cobbled path. His stomach growled and the stones cut his feet. He hardly noticed. It was cold and he was lost.
The snowflakes stuck in his hair and eyelashes, acting cute and innocent, as if they weren't the cause of his desperate shivering. He pulled his trench coat closer around him, eying the lit windows and happy families around him. At the back of his mind, he knew he should ask for help, shelter and food, but he really couldn't bring himself to disturb anyone's Christmas eve.
He was sure he had somewhere he needed to be. Or something that he needed to do. There was always something. Right now, it was someone. But it was too late, anyway. Castiel had failed this particular someone, and that was that.
Eventually he folded in on himself in a corner formed by two houses. He tucked his feet under him and leaned back against the wall, watching his breath form tiny clouds in the frigid air. Idly, he rubbed his hands together. Any kind of action was better than thinking right now.
A comet soared over head. That meant someone was dying, Castiel had been told. He followed it with his eyes as it winked back out of sight. It was probably as cold as he was. Aren't you supposed to wish on shooting stars? Not like this particular wish could come true, but he wished it anyway.
He wished he could see him again.
Castiel shoved his hands into his pockets. From what he had read, frostbite sounded really unpleasant and he rather liked his fingers. Heavy lids slid closed over electric blue as he exhaled and drew his knees close, trying to keep the warmth in. What was he doing? This was stupid. Everything was stupid.
The tips of his fingers brushed against something hidden deep in his left-hand pocket.
A matchbox.
He pulled it out and passed it between his hands, not really focusing on it. It didn't have much significance; he couldn't even remember how he got it, but it was still a nice weight in his palm. Carefully, he removed a match and rolled it back and forth between two fingers.
No harm in warming his hands, right?
With what was nearly a smile, he struck the match against the wall. It sputtered to life and glowed like his own tiny candle. His fingertips tingled with the warmth. The golden light reflected in the dark of his eyes and glittered there. Castiel was reminded of the candles at his family's dinner table, dripping red wax onto their silver holders.
With the candles he also found the table itself, laden with the wonderful food that his family always had access to. He picked up a butter knife and saw a younger, happier blue eye looking back at him. It was his family's silverware.
It was his family's dining room.
He wasn't alone.
There was someone sitting at the head of the table, posture perfect and napkin in his lap.
The flame died and everything was cold again. He was still in the alley, totally alone, the spent match still sitting in his hand. He stared at it. It did nothing. Not wanting to litter, even now, he tucked it into his pocket and pulled out another match. Had that scene been a hallucination? A vision? Something more?
He was probably just going crazy.
That didn't stop him from striking a second match, however.
That was his old carpet under his toes, and familiar Christmas tunes playing on the ancient radio.
That was his family around him.
Gabriel whined, making a halfhearted swipe for it. Balthazar coolly removed it from his brother's reach.
hummed Balthazar, batting away every attempt his sibling made to snatch it.
Anna sighed, messing with Castiel's hair. He didn't mind in the slightest. The fire crackled and blazed, casting a warm light on the scene. There was snow piling up on the window panes, but they paid it little mind, as they were safe and together and well-heated.
Samandriel said quietly.
Anna shrugged.
he told her, even though he was pretty sure he hadn't. It had been an awfully long while.
Gabriel queried sweetly.
Castiel huffed.
Gabriel tried.
said Lucifer, who had just entered the room. He was covered in snow and was presently unwrapping his coats and scarves; not like a man with his body temperature needed them, anyway.
Anna asked.
he answered, pulling several colorfully-wrapped packages out of his pockets. He tossed one to Castiel.
Castiel said automatically.
he replied, pulling the bow lose as Lucifer passed out gifts to the rest of the family. Gabriel had abandoned his quest for eggnog. Anna and Samandriel exchanged a smile. Balthazar thumped Lucifer on the back and congratulated him on not being an asshole.
The blue wrapping paper fell away easily, but before Castiel could get a look inside, the light flickered out. The alley wall still pressed against his back and his feet still freezing. He was still alone.
His hands shook, but not from the cold. His cheeks were warm with tears.
With trembling fingers, he pulled out the third and final match.
Did he dare? Was it worth it?
He knew what -and who- he would see next. Who else could it be?
he muttered, letting his hand fall near the wall and not even watching as the tip of the match scratched the cold stone and a small flame appeared.
At first, he couldn't identify where he was. It was a friendly, inviting house with a tree not as full as the Miltons' had been, and a banister draped in a much cheaper tinsel garland. Nonetheless, it felt like home. There was a pie in the oven, and Castiel's mouth watered at the smell.
He picked a newspaper up off the arm of a chair.
Castiel read.
Ah, should he have expected otherwise?
He looked up. Sam grinned and put a Santa hat on his head.
Sam told him.
Sam shrugged and walked over to the mantel, where he put a few neatly-wrapped gifts into two of the three stockings hung there.
Castiel said around a lump in his throat.
Sam went on, nudging Castiel's shoulder with his own.
Castiel asked.
Sam shook his head and smiled. He picked up the cardboard box that had been used to store the ornaments and left the room with it.
Castiel said quietly.
The front door opened with a rather impressive sound.
Dean proclaimed. His face was a bit red from the bite of the cold outside, but he was grinning anyway. He dumped the grocery bags unceremoniously on the couch and made his way over to Castiel. he remarked, gesturing to the hat.
Castiel shrugged. He wouldn't mind a lot of things for as long as he was here.
Dean bragged.
said Castiel.
the elder Winchester told him, laughing when Castiel made a confused expression. He kissed Castiel on the cheek as he went to the kitchen. he said warmly.
Castiel replied with a smile.
Dean shook his head. he pulled his coat back on. he groaned.
Castiel asked.
Dean responded warmly, demeanor brightening considerably.
And together, they departed.