**Author's Note: _

Castiel's POV again- except with no past kind of dialogue. Instead, you get some present bullshit instead. (:

Anyways, I finally got an AO3 account! I'm currently uploading some of my stories on there (it's taking FOREVER) so if I may take longer to upload/do shit then please understand I'm figuring this one out. (:

Next ch. in Dean's POV.

THank you so much for reading! ENJOY!~

The cicadas hum in the trees above Castiel. He's out in the yard, the oak's leaves swaying above his head. It's been a day since Dean's unexpected visit, and Castiel is still as flustered and confused as before.

Suddenly, there's the sound of the Impala coming up the driveway and Castiel's head shots up like a rocket. As soon as he sees the black car rolling down his driveway again a smile appears widely on his face.

Dean came back. Out of all the possible miracles to happen to Castiel- Dean's returning to see him again.

In seconds he's sprinting from the oak to him, Dean's scent picking up on the wind and making Castiel run even faster towards him. When Dean notices the alpha's speed, his eyes widen and he himself starts running.

It ends up as a weird version of chase- if that makes sense- and ends with Castiel tackling Dean into the grass. He lifts off him a little, palms pressed into the grass and Dean pouts below him.

"No fair dude, you had a head start."

"I've get reasons to be happy." He chuckles.

The moment goes a little sour as Dean's tone and words hit the air and Castiel's ears, "You didn't think I'd be back..."

Castiel doesn't deny it, only flops over beside Dean and exhales heavily. It's quiet now, the blue and somewhat clouded sky above them, the sounds of summer filling their ears, and the warm kiss of sunlight on their exposed skin. The grass is cool underneath Castiel's back, and he sighs in content.

"Honestly Dean," he closes his eyes, "I really think you wouldn't ever come back here. Why did you?"

"I dunno…" Dean trails off.

Castiel knows he might be telling the truth, because Dean's probably just as confused as to why his car's tires are parked in Castiel's driveway, that his back is currently on the ground of Castiel's property. It doesn't make sense, more than likely never will- but Castiel is still happy for it. That somehow Dean made it back again to him, twice.

"It's really been a long time, hasn't it?"

Dean stiffens a little in the grass, "Yeah- fifteen years…"

"How did you do it?" Castiel blurts, "I thought you'd never be able to make it- and that scared me almost to death. I'd stay up for nights on end worrying constantly that you'd wind up in an alley somewhere or something…"

Dean doesn't try to change the subject, thinking that maybe if he does he's just delaying the inevitable, "I just did what I could… I made money doing a few small jobs here and there- sometimes even won poker games or hustled pool- but I managed. Guess you could say it was like a cut and run life. I never stayed in more than one place for a day."

Castiel thinks about Dean when he was eight, the small boy, too young to be out on his own yet. Running from city to city with nothing but motivation and a fear for Lawrence, Kansas and John Winchester. It seems silly, to look back on a not-so-distant past, and realize how impossible it all was. How everything seemed to be on the edge of collapsing but somehow the rickety foundation never fumbled underneath them. The alpha opens his eyes and looks towards Dean.

He's looking towards the sky, face a little scrunched- and Castiel figures he's probably doing it by talking about how he got by. But he notices how much Dean's truly changed. Sure, his freckles are still there, his hair is still the same style and shade- but it's his whole entire self. Castiel can sees the mental damage John dealt him, can see how much it scarred and healed wrong, how many times Dean's had to steel himself to the harsh truths to the world. The vacancy in his eyes from when he rejected it all, pushed it away into the depths of his mind to pretend that his life hadn't of happened. That nothing so misfortunate ever occurred, that Dean Winchester himself was fine and no one or anything else could say otherwise.

Before him, was a man who was broken and in denial of it all.

"Dean- how much do you remember? …"

Castiel knows he's going too far, pushing on a wall that's probably barely standing on it's own. He sees it as Dean turns his head to stare at him, sees the cracks in the mortar as his pupils widen within the forest green. Castiel knows Dean might reject him too, but he's got to push, has to show Dean that he's got to accept the past before he goes running off grid again.

Because Castiel doesn't know if he can go on anymore with Dean barely making it on his own.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Cas?"

"You know-" Castiel says sternly, he knows he can't back down, that Dean needs to see he's serious, "how much do you remember?"

Dean narrows his eyes, brows scrunched together, and Castiel knows how quickly and where this conversation is headed, "You know everything there's to know about it Cas- I don't see why you need reminding-"

"What about you!?" Castiel raises his voice, he knows it may be wrong, that maybe he's being too harsh, but dammit Dean's going to understand him if it kills him, "Just yesterday you didn't even remember that this was my house- it took you a moment to remember my name! You even forgot you came here before and that we were best friends, dammit! Do you know how that feels?! To be the only one who remembers a damn thing because maybe you're the only one to care about it? It's like you left me behind with the rest of Lawrence when you ran away!"

Dean sits up ramrod straight, "Who the fuck are you to tell me anything?! You know what happened, you know why I ran! Why do you think I left in the fucking first place!? The only reason I'm back is because John's dying and no one else is alive or gives a damn about him to fucking bury him!"

"So that's it!? Not to fix all the people's relationships with you that you broke or severed? Not to even say hi to Chuck after you left him in the damn dark for fifteen years? Not when we all thought you were dead or fucking worse?" Castiel feels his anger seeping into rage, and he knows the argument is going to boil over soon, "Do you know what that did to us- to me?!"

Dean's starting to get up and walk towards the Impala, Castiel following him on his heels, "Fuck you Cas! If I don't want to talk to people- that's my damn choice, that's my damn decision to make, and if it upsets you and the rest of em', then all of you can go to hell like John!"

Castiel loses it, grabbing Dean by his arm and swirling him around. It's Dean's expression that makes all of his frustration turn cold. Dean's eyes are wide and watching Castiel's hands, his body stiffened and trembling. It's the reflexes from John's doing, from his fists flying towards Dean with drunken slurs and unfiltered hate- from being beaten for practically eight years straight. Castiel almost stops from the wave of guilt and resentment towards himself that wash over him in unrelenting sweeps.

"Dean I-" he swallows, voice barely above a whisper now, "I'm sorry… It's just- that night you begged me to come with you… I should have gone, should have said yes. Maybe now things would be okay and never led to this point… I thought for so long that you had died or gotten kidnapped by someone, that a person a thousand times worse than John got ahold of you and I'd see your name in the newspaper because they found your body… The nights I stayed up worrying about you are uncountable- and they always will be… Dean-"

Castiel looks up, Dean beside him with his expression from earlier, except it's only a smaller fraction relaxed.

Castiel continues, "You just appear out of nowhere on me, about to ring my doorbell and just say, 'Hi, sorry I've been gone so long.' and expect everything to be okay. Like you weren't gone that long or you were on vacation. How am I supposed to react? Especially when you look at me for a couple of seconds like I'm a complete stranger when we used to know almost everything about each other… I'm not even sure how much you recall or how things happened or- shit, anything anymore… I just want to know Dean, do you really even recognize me anymore? Did you erase everything?"

"I-" Dean's voice is very, very small, "it's not everything, Cas… just most things… I remember falling out of that tree on you, and when you first discovered about what John did- and vaguely when I asked you to ditch Lawrence with me- but not much other than that, Cas… It's like a whole other person gave me these memories…"

Castiel's worst fears are true. Dean barely remembers anything from here, barely recalls all the good things about Lawrence. It's crushing to the alpha as he sees the confusion in Dean's eyes.

"Come on… Let's go inside."

Castiel leads Dean through his house and up to his room. As soon as Dean is inside of it again, Castiel can see some of the things clicking into place. Like how Dean runs his fingers over the wooden banister of Castiel's bed, the one they shared so many years ago while Dean avoided John and his belligerent habits. The alphas just watches, letting the room sink back into Dean's senses on his own time and pace.

"I remember some of these things…" Dean finds a notch out of the dresser, the pad of his fingertip brushing the damage on the old wood, "I did this with a pocket knife."

Castiel nods, "You had come over because John had gone off on you, and apparently my dresser was the next best thing to take your anger on."

Dean face falls a little, his hand lingering over the knick in the dresser, "Oh… Sorry about ruining your dresser, Cas."

"It's fine Dean," he noticed the barely audible tremor in Dean's voice, "it's not like you ruined it either. Just a scratch."

Dean runs a hand through his hair, and his breath escapes his lungs in a long sigh. Castiel watches beside the bed as Dean goes over and sits on the mattress. It's only until Dean puts his face in his hands that Castiel joins him. He can feel how tense Dean's muscles are from just placing his hand on his back, slowly he rubs circles into it. Dean looks towards Castiel.

"What were the fifteen years like for you?"

Castiel takes a moment. Not only was he not expecting Dean to speak, he wasn't even debating the possibility that Dean would ask him this exact question. The alpha looks away for a moment, memories of Dean flashing through his mind.

"It was rough."

Dean's eyes darken for a second, and Castiel notices Dean turn his body a little more towards him, scooting closer, "Rough how?"

"I thought-" Castiel bites his lip, sighs and gives in with continuing, "I thought maybe you hated me just as much as John sometimes… Like I pushed you away and shit like that. I felt awful for all of it, I really did. I guess for the first year I didn't blame you for running away, who wouldn't. But then, I slowly realized that you were all on your own, alone in a place that doesn't care who or what you are- because it doesn't matter. I think I've memorized the stars from how long I stayed up worrying about you. Seems cliche, or like something you'd read in a romance novel or some shit- but it's true, Dean. When you showed up on my doorstep, I thought it was a dream or something. I had accepted I'd never see you again, or something worse happened and you couldn't come see me… It's just- I never expected you to come back to Lawrence, and maybe a small part of me always did. Maybe that's why sometimes I'd stare at the driveway thinking you'd be walking down it again, or that when I woke up you'd be there like you always were. The disappointment I got everyday was crippling."

Dean falters for a moment, and it's quiet. Nothing but the sounds of the distant cicadas and whir of leaves through the open windows, the small breaths being taken and given away. Maybe silence is for the best, because Castiel thinks that every time he opens his mouth something worse comes out than before- that he and Dean take twenty steps back when they just took five forward.

"I'm sorry Cas."

"Nothing to be done about it, Dean. You took your life in your own hands when no one else wanted to. Sure, we were both kids- still sort of are now- but you took care of yourself. Don't think that's a mistake or something, because I think that John probably would have killed you if you hadn't of left. In the end, we can't change the past, and that's fine, we can only just live with it's results."

Dean smiles a fraction, "Damn Cas, you sound like some chick flick or somethin'."

Maybe Castiel can get used to this, just maybe. Because every time even the faintest of smile appears on his friend's face- Castiel feels like everything in the world is just right.

Diana Campos (again I have to use Google Translate for this crap but I'll manage, I'm also doing Portuguese because it didn't even translate in Spanish, so that's what I'm figuring.):

Parabéns pela descoberta fanfiction minha querida! E incrível, eu moro na América, nada muito especial. De qualquer forma, eu não tenho idéia se eu estou indo para incluir Sam neste (também, eu não tenho 100% de certeza sobre o que a sua pergunta / sugestão foi-como o Google era uma espécie de desleixado. Mas, o que eu tenho desde que foi que você queria Sam e Castiel disputa? foi formulada estranhamente aqui por isso estou um pouco confuso, desculpe.), mas posso fazer alguma coisa mais tarde, se eu sentir como ele. Muito obrigado pela revisão e eu sinto muito se isso não faz sentido yo você ou alguma coisa, espero que você possa entender isso!

Sorry if you have no idea what's going on, anyone. (: