The Big C
Castiel drags Sam back across the street by his collar, banging open the door to Dean's house (never locked) and thrusting the blood hound inside, yelling as he does so, "Third time this week Dean, lock him up!"
Dean comes down the stairs, tugging on a flannel shirt as he does so. "He get into your place again?"
"I woke up and he was licking my foot." Castiel glowers accusingly at Sam, who's still sitting at his feet, staring up at him.
Dean glares at his dog, then turns his eyes on Castiel, considering.
"What kind of cancer do you have?" he asks.
Castiel freezes, he hasn't told anyone about it yet – Not Gabriel, Anna or Michael, certainly not Lucifer.
"I don't..."
"When my dad had lung cancer Sam used to follow him around the whole time, dogs pick up on it in your scent, or something." Dean says gently. "I'm sorry for..."
"Melanoma, stage four." Castiel murmurs.
"Shit." Dean comes the rest of the way down the stairs. "How long...?"
"Maybe a year, hopefully a year." Castiel tries to rise above the despair that surfaces in him.
"Shit." Dean says again, with feeling. "What are you going to do?"
Castiel looks at his neighbour, remembering all the times he's watched him working in his yard or on his car in the summer, and yet they've never really spoken before now. Such a lot of wasted time.
"Anything I want." He mutters, hands sliding up Dean's arms to his shoulders as he leans up to kiss him.
Relieved when Dean kisses him back, pushing him through the front room towards the couch, Sam jumping at their heels.
The Never-ending Story
"Kids, you all know the short version of how I met your father – that thing with the heavenly war? But this is the full story, and it all starts way back when I was four years old..."
Grace and Mary nudge Jimmy and roll their eyes.
This is going to take forever.