2013

Castiel stands outside the highrise apartment, looking up at the rows of windows stretching above him. The wind rolls off of the lake and kicks up his hair into a frenzied mess. His plucks his cell phone from the pocket of his coat and sends a text.

Are you home?

He stands like a statue as pedestrians weave around him. It only takes a second before a response comes.

Gabriel: Yeah. What's going on?

Castiel types quickly.

I'm outside your building. Can I come up?

Gabriel: Sure. I'll call down.

It takes a minute, but soon the outside door to the building opens and the doorman welcomes Castiel in. He nods a hello and strides quickly to the elevator. Once inside, Castiel slips off his trench coat and loosens his tie. He hopes Gabriel has something stronger than beer.

Gabriel opens the door, his happy grin immediately faltering.

"Jesus, Cas," he says as he steps aside allowing Castiel to enter. "You look like death warmed over. Rough Day?" Castiel doesn't answer, just drops his coat onto Gabriel's over-immaculate sofa. He slumps down beside it and sinks into the upholstery.

"Do you have an liquor?" Cas asks, letting his head fall back as he massages the bridge of his nose.

"Does the pope shit in the woods?" Gabe asks as he heads toward his small kitchen. Castiel wants to point out that no, the pope probably defecates solely in Vatican City when a bottle of Knob Creek is pressed into his hand. Castiel sighs gratefully and unscrews the top. He completely ignores the glass Gabe has placed on a coaster in front of him, opting instead to take a long swig straight from the bottle.

"Easy there, Bukowski," Gabe says. "What's got you such a mess?" Cas wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Amelia left me," he mumbles. Gabriel mutters a curse and is instantly at Castiel's side.

"She left you? Like, moved out?" Cas nods and takes another drink, "when?"

"Three days ago," Cas answers.

"And you're just telling me now?" Gabe squawks, "I'm your best friend. I should find out these things first!"

"You are finding out first," Cas says, voice flat and emotionless. "I haven't… No one else knows yet. Well, maybe the movers." Cas slumps forward, letting his face fall into his palms.

"What happened?' Gabe asks. Cas looks up and shakes his head.

"I… I don't even know," he says. "I came home on Friday and there were movers there."

"There was no warning?" Gabriel asks.

"She said she didn't want to ruin my birthday." Saying it outloud finally, Castiel realizes how pathetic it sounds and takes a long pull off the bourbon.

"So she decides to ruin your life instead?!" Gabe spits out, completely livid. "That Bitch!" Castiel's hackles raise instinctually at the insult against his mate, and he consciously has to remind himself that he now has no right to be upset.

"She said… She said she doesn't want to be mated anymore," Cas says quietly. "She said that she was so young when we mated-"

"Young? You guys were 25?!" Gabe interrupts.

"-And she is a different person now," Castiel continues. "She has dreams and… and they all involve her being on her own. She got a job offer in Indianapolis and took it. She's moving there." Gabe rubs a comforting hand over Cas' back.

"Oh Cas, I'm sorry," he says. Cas looks at his friend, noticing sincerity that is usually absent in Gabe's demeanor.

"She was lying," Cas mutters, the first traces of anger slipping into his voice.

"What? About the job?"

"No, there's a job, but…" Cas sighs and rubs a hand over his brow. "She has someone else. Another alpha." Gabe's breath hitches.

"How do you know?" He asks. Cas bites at his lip.

"Followed her," he admits. "She's staying at his apartment right now." Gabe whistles low.

"Jesus, man," Gabe stands and runs a hand through his hair. "What are you going to do?"

"She wants to sell the condo."

"Is that what you want?" Gabe asks skeptically. Cas nods.

"I can't… I haven't slept in 3 days," he looks up at Gabe. "Can I crash here for a little while? I can't stay there, it's just…" He grasps for a word when Gabe's hand comes down on his shoulder.

"Of course," Gabe says, "It's no problem." Cas mumbles a thank you and takes another swig. He can hear Gabe pad to the kitchen and call a nearby take out place. Cas manages a small smile, grateful he has a friend like Gabe.

Cas' hand drifts to his neck where Amelia's claim sits. He knows that mates break up, divorces happen. It's not as uncommon or taboo as it once was. Why did it have to happen to him though? He thought they were happy; he certainly was happy. Now, he feels like the whole world has been tipped on it's side. His head aches horribly and he can't tell if it's from the lack of sleep or the mate rejection. Maybe both.

We're going to have to tell our families, Cas realizes. What is his mother going to say? What is his sister going to say? Castiel's mouth goes completely dry and his vision starts to swim. He can hear a muffled noise that sounds similar to Gabe's voice. There are arms wrapping around his shoulders and a hand is petting the back of his head.

"Breathe, Cas," Gabe's voice becomes clearer. "That's right, keep breathing. No panic attacks at Chez Gabriel, got it?" Gabe presses a glass of water into Cas' hand and demands that he drink it.

After Cas chugs the water, Gabriel directs him toward the guest bedroom and hands him a pair of sweatpants, insisting Cas take a long nap.

"Sleep," Gabe orders. "I'm getting us some phở and queueing up some 'Orange is the New Black'. You'll feel like a new man tomorrow." Castiel accepts his friends reassurance but as he settles beneath the duvet, he realizes he doesn't want to feel like a new man. He wants to be the man he was last week. The one who still had his mate.


Dean stares at his eggs, pushing them listlessly around his plate, thinking of how he is going to break this information to Sam and Charlie. They're both stuck in conversation, too busy to notice that Dean's not eating.

"So, yesterday while Luke was in the shower, I may have snooped a bit," Sam admits sheepishly.

"Oh god Sam, what did you do?" Charlie says, stuffing a piece of bacon into her mouth. Sam bites at his lip.

"I went through his texts," he admits. "I know, I know, but get this: his mate and him are trying to have another pup! Another one! I don't think he's never going to leave her." Charlie's shoulders slump and she groans loudly.

"Of course he's never going to leave her! That's what we've been saying for months," Charlie says. "Sam why are you seeing someone who has a mate? The situation is so fucked up!" Sam shakes his head wearily.

"I know, but there's just such a lack of good alphas in this city," Sam says, popping a grape into his mouth.

"What about a good omega?" Charlie says, pointing a fork at Sam. "Dorothy and I know a lot-"

"I'm not into omegas, you know that," Sam says. "I just want to find a nice, attractive, successful, not-crazy alpha… Like Dean has." Dean looks up at the mention on his name. His beta brother is motioning at him with a cantaloupe rind.

"I'm pretty sure Dean got the last of those," Charlie chuckles. Dean sees his window.

"Michael and I broke up." The entire table goes silent. Sam and Charlie both stare at him.

"What?" Sam gasps.

"We broke up."

"When?" Charlie asks.

"10 days ago," Dean says, taking a sip of his coffee.

"And you're just telling me now?" Sam says. "Jesus, Dean, I'm so sorry." Sam reaches out to comfort him, but Dean shrugs off his hand.

"It's not a big deal, Sam. I'm fine," Dean says, his voice light, "Really?"

"Your mate just left you, you are not fine," Sam says.

"He didn't leave me," Dean corrects.

"You left him!?" Charlie squeeks, reaching for Dean as well.

"Guys, guys!" Dean says, flexing out of their grasps. "It was mutual, ok? The relationship ran it's course. There was no blow-out, no major disagreement, it just… ended." Sam and Charlie both glare at him with twin skeptical expressions.

"But you guys were mated," Sam says, as if Dean hadn't realized that fact.

"Yeah, and now we're not," Dean says with a shrug. "Sam, it's ok. Things like this happen. It's nothing to be worried about."

"Dean…" Charlie says hesitantly.

"I'm fine," Dean emphasizes, "Really. Thank you for your concern, but really… I'm ok." Dean focuses on finishing his breakfast. Sam and Charlie exchange worried glances, wordlessly agreeing to drop the subject for now.


Dean can feel Sam boring a hole into the back of his head with his stare.

"Quit it, Sammy," he mutters as he pays for his breakfast. Charlie had already left to meet Dorothy for a meeting at their daughter's school. Dean knew she had ordered Sam to grill Dean for all information regarding his divorce.

"You have to talk to me sometime, Dean," Sam says, and Dean can practically hear the bitchface in his voice.

"Actually, I don't, because I don't need to talk." He turns to face Sam, "because I'm al-" Dean pauses mid-sentence when he sees someone out of the corner of his eye.

"Cas?" he says as he walks toward the booth. Castiel Novak sits alone, sipping a cup of black coffee and studying a crossword puzzle. He lifts his head at the sound of his name, cool blue eyes meeting Dean's.

"Castiel?" Dean ask. He points to himself, "Dean Winchester? U of F? I'm not sure if you remember-"

"Of course, I remember you, Dean," Cas says, his mouth tilting up into a polite smile. He extends his hand and Dean shakes it.

"You're looking well," Dean says. "Oh by the way this is my brother, Sam." Dean turns around to see Sam waving him goodbye as he talks animatedly on his cell phone.

"... Was Sam," Dean mumbles. He turns back to Cas, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to bother you..." Castiel huffs a short laugh.

"No, no, you're not bothering me," Cas mumbles, idly drawing imaginary lines across the formica tabletop with his finger. "What have you been up to?" Dean shrugs casually.

"Same thing. I'm working for an automotive website, now," he says, "blogging and shit. Can you believe that?"

"That's good," Cas replies. "Do you still have that beast of a car?"

"The Impala? Of course! Nothing short of the apocalypse could make me get rid of her," Dean smiles brightly at the mention of his baby. "Look, I'm sorry to interrupt, I know you're probably waiting for your mate or something…" Castiel flinches at the mention of 'mate' and Dean catches it.

"I'm not waiting for…" He huffs an empty laugh, "I'm actually going through a divorce right now." Dean's expression falls, and all at once he sees it on Castiel: the drawn expression, the dark circles under his eyes, the slump of his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry," Dean says, "uh, me too, actually," he admits. Cas glances up at him, a look of understanding passing between them. Divorces did occur on a regular basis, but it still was a rare thing and held a immense social stigma for most people.

"My apologies, Dean," Cas says. "How long ago?"

"Just over a week ago," he replies, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. "You?"

"A month," Cas says, frowning slightly. Dean's at a loss for what to do. Castiel looks so defeated and more than a little lost. Dean makes a decision and sits down across from him.

"Do you…. do you need to talk?" Dean asks hesitantly. At this moment, Dean really wishes Sam had stuck around; he's so much better at this touchy-feely crap then Dean is. Hell, Sam would probably have a field day comforting a forlorn alpha like Castiel.

Cas nods and takes a sip of his coffee, but doesn't say anything. They sit there in silence for a long while. Dean grabs a passing waitress and orders a coffee for himself. Just when he's about to give up on getting anything out of Cas, he starts to talk.

They chat for close to an hour. Cas isn't emotional about what happened, just level and straight-forward, stating the facts. It seems unusual to Dean, considering how abrupt and painful the break-up no doubt was.

"What about you, Dean?" Cas asks, draining his fourth cup of coffee. "What happened there?"

"Nothing," Dean says with a shrug, "it was mutual. The relationship was just at its end." Cas considers him carefully, not saying a word.

"But what set off the mutual break-up?" He asks. This line of questioning surprises Dean, because he knows exactly what happened.

"Michael was… is... a very, how do I put it? Traditional alpha," Dean answers, "you know the type: Posturing, possessive, domineering at times."

"Sounds like the exact opposite of you." Cas offers.

"Yeah, you'd think so." Dean says, "but we made it work, y'know. We were really good together."

"What changed?" Cas asks. Dean hesitates. It's something he has never discussed with anyone outside of Michael. He doesn't know why he's sharing with Castiel now, only that Castiel is willing to listen and do so without pitying Dean.

"I always assumed that, as an uber-traditional alpha, he would want traditional things," Dean says, "like pups." Cas' expression changes as he begins to understand what Dean is saying.

"And Michael assumed that since you're an untraditional omega, you wouldn't." Dean taps the tip of his nose with his finger with a sad smile.

"Isn't that something to discuss before mating?" Cas asks, and Dean chuckles at that.

"Yeah, well hindsight and all that," Dean says. "So I said 'this is what I want', and he said 'well, I don't' and I said 'well, I guess that's it.'"

"And that was it," Cas says, not taking his eyes off of Dean.

"Yeah," he says with a small shrug, "and you know what? I don't miss him. It's weird: we were together for 6 years and I just… don't." Castiel's expression is distant and unreadable, but he hums is response.

Dean checks his phone and gawks at the time. "Jesus, I've got to get going." He stands from the table and pulls a few bills from his wallet.

"Yes, I should be going as well," Cas says, nodding stiffly and Dean can see his relaxed demeanor give-way to the miserable tension from before. Guilt hits Dean square in the chest and he bites at his lip.

"Um, look, if you ever need someone to talk to or anything," Dean says, reaching into his wallet and removing a business card, "feel free to give me a call or whatever. I know… I know this situation sucks." He shrugs. Cas takes the card, and maybe Dean imagines it, but a little of the tension in his shoulders drains away as he does. He stands and pockets the card, reaching out to shake Dean's hand.

"Thank you, Dean," he says.

They part ways once they are outside the diner, both going in opposite directions. Dean strolls down the block, enjoying the unseasonably-warm spring weather and wondering if he just became friends with an alpha.