A month later

Sam sat quietly on the couch, flipping through the channels again. He had already been through them two times already, but he needed anything to keep his mind from wandering. After a few minutes of mindless clicking, he tossed the remote next to him and grabbed one of his school books as he leaned back. He was in his final year of law school; he was so close to graduating, he could taste it. But it was bittersweet.

He had to replace all of the school books he had at his house after the fire. It cost a great deal and dug into his checking account, but they were things he needed. A job at a firm was already lined up for him after graduation, but he held a small job at a local vet clinic in the meantime just to bring in some cash. Jess loved dogs, too…

He pushed the train of thought out of his mind and continued to read the almost endless stream of babbling words on the page. He didn't hear Dean come into the living room. Dean came in with beer in hand and plopped on the couch next to Sam.

"How's it going, Sammy?" asked Dean with a wide grin. He took a sip of his beer.

Sam cleared his throat. "Fine."

"You don't sound 'fine,' Sam. Dude, come on, you need to get out of the house for a while. How 'bout you and me head into town and just walk around? You know, get late breakfast or something before I have to go to work."

"Dean, no. Please, I have to study." Sam kept his face in his book, unwilling to look Dean in the eye, because he knew if he did, Dean would know for sure why he didn't want to go out.

"It's always, 'I have to study,' 'I have homework,' damn, man. Give yourself a break for once, huh? Sam, you've been through a lot of shit the last couple of weeks, and-"

"Dean, I said no. That's the end of it."

Dean looked down at his beer and sighed in defeat. He had a stubborn-ass little brother that always dug in his heels, but he knew he couldn't rush him either. Sam was having a hard time, a lot harder time than when their mom died, but he figured Sam was so young then, he really didn't get to know her as well as Dean did. "Alright, Sammy. I'm sorry." Dean stood up and began to make his way towards the front door. "I'm gonna go to the store to get some milk and some other stuff. Do you need anything?"

"No," answered Sam coldly from behind his book.

Dean took his jacket from the hook and grabbed his keys off the small table. "I'll be back in a little while."

"Ok."

Dean walked out and locked the door behind him. He made his way down the hall towards the stairs, keys twirling on his finger.

Castiel walked around aimlessly, feet dragging on the concrete. He pulled on his jacket in hopes of getting warmer, but recently, he felt like he could never get warm. It was mid December and the wet cold was making its way into his bones. He shuffled to a park bench where he sat down quietly. He gingerly pulled out a tin foil ball and began to pull the crumpled foil away to reveal a half eaten piece of rye bread from a steak restaurant a couple of blocks away. Castiel hated going near that place anytime it was open because all he could smell for blocks around is the wonderful scent of sizzling food. It made his stomach growl, so he kept his distance during hours, but as soon as the staff left late at night, he would make his way to the back alley and take whatever leftover bread or uneaten baked potato he could find. Meat like steak and chicken was almost impossible to come across, but Castiel didn't really care as long as he had something to fill his stomach at night. The bread he carried was from yesterday, so it was a little hard, but it was the most bread he had seen in quite a few weeks.

He nibbled at the stale corner as he watched people pass by. Some ran by with earbuds glued in their ears, some pushed strollers or dragged small children who pointed at pigeons, while some held hands as they walked, uncaring and in love. Castiel like to watch people. Not in the creepy way most think. He just like to see how other people were moving along in life, how they went through their day, what they did in their spare time.

He continued to watch and eat slowly when he heard a small hoot of a bird and turned to see a mourning dove hopping over to him. It stared at him with almost unseeing eyes. Castiel stared back and then realized what the bird was after. He tore off a chunk of bread and tossed it to the dove. It took the bread in its beak and stared at Castiel before it flew away. Castiel sighed as he watched it climb higher into the sky. He soon found himself watching the small snow flurries fall, and part of him loved to watch the snow. It was beautiful and pure. It was white and elegant as it drifted to the earth. But another part of him knew that tonight was going to be very cold, and he wasn't sure how many more cold, sleepless nights he could handle. He had yet to find a real place with a roof and walls to lay his head at night. Most nights were spent tucked behind a dumpster or nustled underneath a bench. He pulled his backpack closer because he knew he could never lose the blanket inside. It was probably the one thing that had kept him alive so far.

Castiel went back to watching the people go by, scanning the small crowds that moved around the park like it was an ant hill. He let himself focus on a few faces, ones that looked angry or extremely happy, but he mostly focused on their movements, which ones were in a hurry and which were just out on a stroll. He was about ready to take his wad of tin foil and stuff it into his pack when he scanned the people again and spotted a familiar face. A man with a stern jawline and bright green eyes was carrying a few bags of groceries to his car across the street. They were a good fifty feet away but he swore he could hear the man hum some AC DC song he couldn't name. Then Castiel realized why the man looked familiar. He was the man that had stopped many nights ago and gave him his leftover hot wings. Castiel remembered how timid the man was around his friends and how he was almost afraid to be seen giving a homeless person food. But Castiel also remembered how sweet his voice was when he told him to stay warm. He remembered how bright his eyes were in the false lighting of the city at night. He remembered the small smile he gave as he turned away and how he kept looking over his shoulder as he until he turned the corner.

Then Castiel felt guilt. He couldn't be seen again. He didn't want to be pitied by this man, not again. Even though the food was filling and the human interaction was something long overdue, he didn't want the man to pity him. Castiel grabbed his bag and stood. He tossed the bag over his shoulder and looked at the man across the street to see the man staring back. The man paused for a moment and then waved slightly before closing his trunk. Castiel gave a small nod and turned his back to him and began to walk away.

Castiel heard the roar of the man's vintage car as he started it up but kept walking anyway. He tugged on his bag as he went, ready to get out of the park and to a place he wouldn't be seen.

The man with the green eyes sat in his car and thought of Castiel and how a man so thin before looked even more gaunt now. He felt a tinge of pity as he put his car into gear.