Sam and Dean stubbornly faced off in silence when Castiel made breakfast for them on Monday. They sat and stared at their food, moving their eggs around on their plate before getting up and leaving.
Castiel rolled his eyes sky high and packaged the food for later. Winchesters.
He slept a little better that night, though not by much. He woke up in the night as usual, but he wasn't screaming, thankfully. He clutched at Dean's shirt, stripped his own nightshirt off since it was covered in cold sweat, and buried his nose in Dean's neck, inhaling the alpha smell until his rabbit heart slowed to something reasonable enough to sleep again.
Before Dean, when the night terrors came, he would have to get up and wander outside, rain or snow or bitter cold, and feel the openness until he could wind himself down enough to return to bed. Now, he cuddled closer, breathed in the smell of his mate. Dean curled around him in a warm embrace rather than leaving him chilled.
Jo still insisted on their once a week meetings, even though she'd given Cas the stamp of approval long before. Castiel liked to think it was because she enjoyed his company. Cas quickly learned that time spent together did not diminish how intimidating he found her, but he enjoyed hanging out with her once a week too.
This week, Cas was accompanying her in picking out hunting equipment, because he was clearly an expert in that area.
"This one's serrated, see Cas? It's got these ridges on the side? Makes it easier to slice through the—"
"Uh-huh. I see, Jo." Castiel cut her off, holding up a hand and staring intently at the dagger, hoping she wouldn't finish her sentence. "I use serrated knives when I cook. Ellen really takes you hunting?"
"Hell no, even though she's an amazing shot. My dad and mom used to, but when he died in a hunting accident my mom stopped going and refused to let me go without her. Dean takes me in secret sometimes. At first he was a real pain in the ass about it, but I wore him down." Jo paused eyeing some equipment on a far wall, "It makes me feel closer to my dad."
Castiel nodded, unsure what else to say.
"My dad didn't really take me out. He took my brother out." Castiel shrugged. "I don't have many memories with him, but if I did I imagine I'd like to recreate them any way I could."
"Did he take your brother out because of…" Jo raised her eyebrows and Castiel nodded.
"Balthazar's a beta. Dad thought he would enjoy 'manly' activities more or something, so they would go to sports games and stuff. I actually don't know what they did most of the time, I only went with them a few times. I think they went hunting too? My dad thought it would be better if I spent more time with my mom."
"Well, it's never too late to learn. Me and Dean will take you out and teach you." Jo patted him helpfully on the shoulder, if a little harder than he thought necessary.
"Ok." Cas agreed, though he wasn't sure his father had been completely wrong about this matter; he couldn't really imagine himself enjoying killing things for fun. He was premed for a reason.
"Yours is still alive, you know. You can still make memories with him. If you want to." Jo suggested, pulling her wallet out and counting her bills before nodding and heading up to the cash register with the knife in hand.
"Not particularly." Cas shook his head. "My parents are fine, but I don't think either of us would gain much from spending more time together."
"Why's that?" Jo asked as the clerk rang her up.
"They're… set in their ways." Castiel picked up a keychain. It featured a demonic looking Eagle swooping in to clutch a gun, with very patriotic colored lettering underneath that spelled out "guns, guts and glory: America".
The store boasted camouflage colored equipment Cas had seen before, most of which under circumstances he never wanted to think about again, and yet he was surprisingly fine. He worried before agreeing to come with Jo, but his hand had been steady for months when he cooked with knives so he figured he would be all right.
The clerk had a funny looking mustache, one of those French mustaches that Castiel found fascinating, but it wasn't the mustache that had the skin on the back of his neck prickling. Castiel shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with no explanation as to why.
In his quest to find the source of his discomfort, he looked in the glass behind the clerk, the glass that concealed shelves of bullets, and found eyes that reflected back at him—ones he would never forget.
Castiel freezes.
Castiel runs.
The door to the back must have an exit. Castiel wrenches it open, leaping over employee bags and purses, his eyes caught on the red "exit" as it rushes up at him.
Jo is calling.
The door sets off an alarm. It screams, alerts the whole store to the monster.
Get out, get out while you can.
He'll find you.
He'll catch you.
Forest, there's a forest.
He'll find him; hunt him like an animal, cut with serrated edges.
Crowds. Safe in a crowd.
Safe.
Dean.
Thump. Thump. His heartbeat in his ears? Or the sound of footsteps behind him?
Alpha.
I can protect myself.
Dean.