Three years, six months, two days, eight hours, twelve minutes, and 15 seconds. That is how long it has been since the Winchester brothers have gone their separate ways.
Not that he's counting.
Two years, one month, five days, eleven hours and exactly 43 minutes. That is how long it has been since he had checked up on Sam; how long it has been since Dean had demanded he go ensure Sam gets everything he wants from his new apple-pie life.
One year, four months, one day, two hours, 14 minutes, and two seconds. That is how long it has been since Dean and Sam exchanged more than a text message. Dean would text his little brother daily, or as daily as he can manage. A hunter's life isn't easy, but he accompanied Dean to ensure his safety as well as he could.
Twelve days, four hours, 37 minutes, and 57 seconds. That is how long it has been since Dean left Castiel to recover in the bunker while he went off on a solo hunt.
Two minutes. That is how long he's been standing out in the rain, trying to convince himself to appear within the walls of the small house, or at least knock on the door; trying to convince himself that Sam really should know. He deserves to know.
Castiel finally builds up the courage to confront the younger Winchester, who had spent his life surrounded by as much normalcy as he could manage. Cas had been warned not to disturb that, but he felt like there was no other choice.
Sam had been doing so well; he had found a girlfriend who looked a bit too much like Jess, he got a dog, he bought a house; he was happy. Happy to be free of a hunter's lifestyle.
He deserved it, after all. It had taken blood, sweat, and tears, but the Winchesters had put the world back into order. Angels in heaven, demons in hell; the only problems remaining were those that had existed in the first place, supernatural creatures going nuts and attacking people. Dean was more than happy to continue in their father's footsteps; saving people, hunting things; the family business. Sam, however, took advantage of the relative peace and decided he wanted- no, he deserved- a normal life. He wanted to life happily before the world went to hell again, because why should they have to save everything?
Castiel remembers that Dean laughed, promising the world wouldn't go to hell on his watch, and assured Sam that he could save the world on his own. In his words, he was 'Batman, bitch, and how many times has Batman kicked the Joker's ass without Robin steppin' on his cape?'. Sam was convinced. Cas was not. With his grace returned in full, he decided to continue on this brutal path with Dean, a path paved in cheap motel rooms, crappy fast food, and credit card fraud.
They parted ways. Though at first they stayed in contact, often calling each other twice a day just to gush about their lives with text messages sprinkled in describing smaller things that didn't quite constitute a phone call, soon the calls became scarce and the texts became smaller and less meaningful.
Dean refused to talk about his hunts. Eventually Sam stopped asking.
After the first year, the brothers didn't meet in person again.
From the doorstep, he could hear some happy commotion going on inside. Remembering something Dean had said to him awhile back, he decided it was safest to simply knock as a 'normal human' would. Three solid knocks on the wood, and a woman with blonde hair and bright blue eyes answered the door. She stood agape for a moment, eyeing the disheveled stranger.
Unshaved, unshowered, and unkempt; his tie was thrown across one shoulder and his odd clothes were stained by dirt and- oh god, was that… blood?
"C-can I…. help you?"
"I need to speak with Sam Winchester." Castiel demanded, unbelivebly blue eyes burrowing into, and nearly through, this rosy-cheeked woman.
A child's squeals of delight could be heard from just inside. A man's voice asked,
"Cam, who's at the door?"
Castiel now recognized this woman as Camille, Sam's girlfriend, though a golden band around a finger on her left hand now indicated otherwise.
"I-It's for you…." She said, eyeing the stranger carefully.
She exchanged soft, cautionary words with the man before he came to the door, a wiggling baby in hand.
"C-cas…." He gaped.
Sam hadn't changed much- not that Castiel had expected him to.
"Y-you're… here… It's been… two years…"
Camille asked from inside, "You know him?"
"Y-yeah… wow…. Cas you look…. Well, you look like crap to be honest. Where's Dean, is he with you?"
"Sam…" Cas said, unsure if he could manage anymore while still keeping his stone
cold composure.
"Come inside, sit down… Jesus…"
"Sam." Cas said again, placing a steady hand on the young Winchester's shoulder, the one not occupied by a small, squishy human.
Sam swallowed a lump in his throat. His heart quivered as he interpreted the look on the disheveled angel's face.
"Babe, is something wrong?" Camille asked, taking the child from Sam. Sam leaned heavily against the doorframe, pale as a sheet.
"Oh… oh god… He's… Dean's dead… isn't he…?"
Castiel dropped his gaze to the floor, dramatically blue eyes trained on his shoes. His grip on Sam's shoulder tightened. He knew Sam wouldn't have told his new family about his old lifestyle- Dean had warned him. He had told Castiel to act entirely human- no talk of the supernatural. He took a deep breath, looked the terrified Winchester in the eyes, and said,
"Dean's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."