"Cas." Dean's voice was rough and low over the phone, sounding slightly staticy over the speaker pressed against Cas' ear. It was one word, his name, and he'd heard it a hundred times at least - but it felt different when Dean said it.
"Yes, Dean?"
"Where are you?" he asked, his voice quavering a little. He made sure it wasn't enough so that Cas would notice.
"I'm trying to - what do you call it? Lay low? - in New York City."
"Why?"
"It's easier for me to hide in such a crowded city. Dean, there are people everywhere."
"I know," he responded. "Listen. Sammy and I are coming down there to see you."
"Why." It was a statement, not a question. Cas did that sometimes. Dean's grip on his phone tightened as he searched for words, but he couldn't find them, grasp them.
"Do I need to give you a reason?" he asked, more roughly than he meant to.
"Yes," Cas demanded. He didn't usually ever demand anything from Dean, but he wanted to know. There was absolutely no reason for Sam and Dean to risk it. They could be found.
"It's been a while," he explained. "I-" he coughed. "We wanted to see you."
Cas noticed the hesitation. "You wanted to see me?"
"We wanted to see you," Dean corrected, "and we're coming." He hung up, his breathing irregular and heartbeat slightly faster. Go away, he told himself. Get over yourself. "Sam!"
"Yeah?"
"We're going to New York City."
AN: Sorry it's so short.. I'm depending on you guys to keep going! Thanks!