Cutting the engine, the old, worn out car overlooks the valley below. Lights dancing across the distance, twinkling in and out like a soft pulse. Rumbles of vehicles experiencing late night trips across the town; sometimes a siren calls out announcing either arrival or passing of life. None of that matters. With shaky hands, the couple slowly emerge out of the car and perch themselves on the hood. Shuffling backwards, creaky bones and joints protesting at the sudden movements, the smallest of the pair grasps along the hood, searching for the other. Always searching. His milky eyes darting around behind his lenses, in sudden panic that he can't find him. Where is he? The hood of the car is still warm, and he can feel a certain presence, but where is he? The panic begins to rise again, and finally the other man latches onto his hand. His anchor. He rubs his thumb along the top of his knuckles one way, then the other. Repeat. This always defuses his minor panic attacks.
"Cas" the calmer of the two whispers, "you gotta calm down hun, I aint goin' anywhere." Slowly, he brings his knuckles up to his mouth and presses soft kisses across each individual knuckle, repeatedly. The simple gesture causes the previously panicked atmosphere to deflate into a more tranquil environment.
"I know Dean, I know." Cas replies almost as quietly as Dean. Even at their old age and slowly fading hearing, they can still whisper quietly with no problem. They often thought this was because they were more attuned to each other than anyone else. As Cas likes to regularly remind Dean, it is because of their 'profound bond'.
"Hey Cas, remember the first time I brought you here?" Dean asks, looking straight ahead into the busy nightlife of the town. From where he sat, even with his eyesight going south, he can make out the streetlights on his and Cas' road. He can also spot the many diners littering the streets. Trust Castiel to pick the most unpopulated town in the middle of nowhere, but inhabiting the most fast food places. Dean shakes his head and looks towards Cas, having heard him begin to start and restart his sentence several times now.
"Yes Dean, I remember." His voice wavers uncertainly, causing a large mixture of worry and anxiety to build in Dean's stomach.
For the past year, Castiel had been having problems with remembering. Places, people, and more recently himself. Add to that his eyesight fading faster and faster each day, Dean had begun to feel helpless. The routine trip to the grocery store was a definite no these days, especially after the last incident.
Cas had wanted to have some freedom, he felt like Dean was constantly hovering over his shoulder. He felt like he was back in heaven, having to obey orders constantly. So, naturally he rebelled. He pulled on his trusty trench coat (during his human lifetime he had purchased around 30 of said coat due to him being clumsy as a human, go figure) and made his way towards the store. If Dean had been home, there would have been no way Cas would have been able to leave the house alone, but he needed this, not just to prove to Dean, but to himself. It was a beautiful day and as he walked he couldn't help but think how Dean was missing out. A few days earlier, he had reluctantly left to visit Sam and his 'friend' Lucy who lived a couple of towns over. Glancing down at his watch, he realised Dean was due back any minute. A wave of emotions Cas could only describe as utter joy washed over him. His steps became more confident, he could do this. Arriving at the store, Cas hadn't anticipated so many people. Why where all these people here? Why was he at the store? Where was he? Soon, he began to panic. Badly. Short gasps and tremors began to take over his body; he slowly lowered himself to the floor. His name. his name was Cas? Cas.. Cas. More shakes added to his body, or was somebody shaking him?
"Cas!" he soon realised somebody was in fact shaking him, but that voice. That voice he would recognise anywhere.
"Dean? Why? What?" disoriented, Cas looks around the small crowd that had gathered, a slight misty tinge due to his eyesight. Panic begins to resurface. Dean, who had ran from the impala straight towards the crowd at the store, looked at Cas with a look of defeat.
"You're ok Cas" Dean lowered himself to the same level as Cas, wrapping his arms around his bony shoulders tightly, "its ok. I aint goin' anywhere."
Slowly, was brought back from his recent memory, and not one of his fondest. He noticed what had brought him back; Cas' head had slowly dropped onto his shoulder. Fine, thin hair ticked his chin as he placed his head softly on top of Cas'. A sigh on content could be heard from the smaller man as he struggled to get as close as possible to his other half. This. This was his home. This had been his home for the past 40 years, and will be for many more.