Cas walked through the darkened streets trailing on and off the sidewalk, strolling lazily to his destination with one of Dean's borrowed backpacks on. It probably would have been a strange look had he not recently taken to wearing more human attire, and though he'd never admit it, he'd had ulterior motives for that change; the clothes he borrowed smelled like Dean. That, and the fact that Dean had seemed to inexplicably like Cas wearing them kept him in the habit.
As he walked, the bright moon cast long, milky white blankets of light across the ground making it easy for him to see. Not that he needed it. As an angel, he could easily navigate through the pitchest of black without difficulty. And yet, he enjoyed the soft glow of the moon, making all the harsh edges of the landscape seem somehow smoother. But even a full moon wasn't enough to comfort him tonight. He usually enjoyed the silence of the nighttime; Most of the lights inside the neighborhood houses were out, and the empty roads had an air of serenity. But everything felt different right now. He couldn't relax. He couldn't shake his thoughts of Dean. Ever since he'd finally said his worries aloud to Sam, they'd started to feel real. Dean wasn't ok, and the thought of it made Cas miserable.
Cas kicked at some pebbles as he walked, sending them careening down the slanted asphalt road he was on. What is going on with you, Dean? he mused. He thought of the curious agitation he had felt each night coming from Dean's room before Cas left. In fact, it was one of the main reasons Cas had started going on his nightly walks in the first place. He couldn't be around Dean like that. Not when he didn't know how to help him.
But curiously, it wasn't always like that. Sometimes he'd feel. . . not contentment, but maybe some waves of peace inexplicably coming from the hunter. Yesterday at the grocery store he had felt it. But it seemed that those feelings were fleeting. Dean's emotions were waves of turbulence, and Cas was the unwitting victim of their changes, getting pulled under with each ebb and flow of the tide.
Not that he hadn't been in the orbit of chaotic human emotions before. . . but for some reason, his connection to Dean was more potent. Visceral. And he wondered, not for the first time, why that was.
Quickly, though, he brushed the thought from his mind, finally reaching his destination.
At one in the morning, the park was completely abandoned. Since he, himself had experienced the cruelties of homelessness, he'd often wondered why this location didn't attract more derelicts at night. If he didn't have a home, he concluded, this wouldn't be a bad place to curl up for the night. The weather didn't even require a jacket. But, he supposed, there probably weren't as many people in small towns in such a difficult situation. And though he didn't know why, he concluded that it was more of a big city problem.
There was, however, one vagrant who took shelter in the park, and Cas had come to see him every night since he'd found him. So Cas quietly sat on a park bench, taking off his backpack, grabbing a small whistle he'd discreetly hidden inside Sam's shopping basket at the store. He blew on it tentatively, then set the silent whistle on his lap.
It took a moment, but soon a furry mass jumped from its hiding spot inside the bushes. The dark haired dog only had three legs and it lopped along awkwardly on them, rushing to meet Cas. The dog's tongue hung at a goofy angle out of an enthusiastic smile.
"Hercules," Cas said endearingly as the dog licked his hands when he reached out to pet him. Cas had come up with the name somewhat ironically, thinking of the fallen god as having some similarities with Cas himself.
Cas patted the park bench beside him, but instead, Hercules jumped up onto Cas's lap, making him grunt a little in surprise. Cas laughed, petting the dog as Hercules settled himself into the comfort of the angel's warm body.
They sat that way for a long time before Cas got out the dog food and bone he had brought for Hercules, as well as an additional blanket for him (those had taken more work to sneak into the cart than the whistle). He also replenished the dog's bowl of water he'd hidden in an alcove in the bushes for him.
"I'm going to take you home with me," he promised. "But I can't now. It's still warm, though and I'll be back tomorrow. Right now I have to focus on helping Dean get better. . ." Cas's face fell as he thought about Dean, wondering just how to help someone when he didn't know what was wrong. But still, as he looked at Hercules, he felt glad to have a home, and a family. We'll figure it out, Cas thought, trying to cheer himself up, We always do. . . and he genuinely tried to believe it.