Dawn celebrated her 31st birthday by herself.
December gives way to January, a new year with less rain but more freezing temperatures. January dissolves into February with the tentative return of sunrise. March welcomes warmer weather and longer stretches of daylight, a trend which continues into March, April, and May, when the authoritative ratio of night starts to give itself up to day. The lake thaws, and birds migrate through the mountains surrounding the home. June and July are the warmest months, Dawn's garden thriving with choice days of rain and constant sunshine. Herbs, vegetables, and bouquets sing with bumblebees and butterflies. Her circadian starts to suffer again as the daylight hours extend, but she spends more time outside, her walks longer. August welcomes back the moon for a few hours, and September brings continued warmth but more sociable daylight.
Dawn's wellbeing does not immediately right itself after her argument with Castiel. For several months, she fights with herself to include three meals a day in her daily repertoire, let alone the other basic requirements of self-care. When her garden begins to thrive, routine truly governs her, and she remembers to notice her stomach grumbling, her clothes smelling, her eyes tiring. She asks for more books, she watches more TV, she spends longer hours in her underground training facility. She does anything she can to distract herself from the pains of loneliness until she can fall asleep and do it all over again.
The period before sleep is always difficult, no matter how proactive Dawn is during her waking hours. When she can no longer ignore her intrusive thoughts. When the pit within her threatens to consume her if she falls in. It is a battle, but every night she manages to keep hold of the edge, no matter how brittle it gets. No matter how brutally she talks herself down.
She knows her good health is just a façade she fulfils to stop Castiel from intervening again. She cannot deny, though, that his gradual ease in her presence begins to go both ways – that she looks forward to his company. She finds it easier everyday to put aside the fact he is an angel, the most untrustworthy creature she has ever met, for the sake of a timid friendship.
Dawn therefore notices immediately when his behaviour begins to change – when he becomes distant, flustered, and overstretched. It is around the same time that the news starts to get really whacky.
Despite living somewhere in the Scandinavian Arctic Circle, Dawn's news stations are in English. A perk, she thinks, from having it installed by angels.
"More bizarre weather across the world today," A woman in a red blazer suit gestures to a meteorology chart, "An unprecedented tornado rips through Kansas in the US, coupled with unexpected flash flooding in the South of England-"
Dawn almost misses the quiet shuffle in the kitchen behind her. She mutes the TV immediately and spins around on the couch.
Castiel has placed a box of groceries on the bench, putting a new paperback next to it. He does not look up as Dawn moves, his eyes unfocused and his movements slow.
"Hey," She tries, "What happened to knocking?"
He looks up to meet her eye but does not speak. He places his hand absentmindedly on a stalk of celery sticking out of the box, deep in thought.
"Castiel?" He's obviously bored with you, just let him go. Shut up.
"It is a sunny day." He sounds distant, looking out the windows.
"Yeah, it's coming up to almost a whole week without any rain." She frowns at him.
"Extraordinary."
She can tell he is about to dematerialise. "Castiel – what has been going on with you?"
He finally looks at her as if he is actually seeing her. "I have been delivering your supplies and going for walks with you, honouring our arrangement."
"You've been so distant."
He frowns and tilts his head.
"It's like you're in two places at once! When you're here, you're not really here. Your mind is on something else." She clarifies.
"I am sorry I have been unable to give you my full attention." He speaks without feeling.
"Wait, don't disappear on me!"
Castiel blinks, confused and surprised. Dawn has been getting good at sensing when he is going to leave.
"I don't mind, really. I don't expect you to enjoy babysitting me – I know it's degrading." She gets off the couch to speak to him at eye level. "I just want to know what's going on."
He is impassive. "It is complicated."
"I have all the time in the world." She smiles.
"I do not." He answers coldly.
She sighs and runs her hand through her hair. "That's my point!"
He taps a finger on the bench. "I do not understand what you want me to say."
Dawn laughs in a strained way. "I don't want you to say anything!" She swallows her frustration, speaking calmly. "I am just letting you know that you can talk to me about whatever is bothering you."
Trying to get an angel to open up is like trying to wrench a bank vault with a plastic crowbar.
"I have nothing to say." There is a sharp glint in his eye.
She shrugs. "Well, okay, but if there is anything I can do to make your 'job' easier, tell me."
He stares at her, and then looks out the window. A tense silence follows.
"…Even if that means we stop going for walks for a while." She says quietly, hoping he will not agree. The thought of a disruption like that to her routine is crushing.
"No, I am perfectly fine." He says quickly. She lets out a breath of relief. He meets her eye again. "Will that be all?"
She frowns. "Uh, yeah, if you're definitely okay."
"Dawn, I am always 'okay'. I am an angel. It is you humans that are so fallible."
She raises her eyebrows. "Oh." Is all she says before her mouth sets in a hard line.
"Yes. You forgot your place. Do not let it happen again."
She grimaces as he disappears, the coldness of his tone stabbing her in the chest.
She falls back onto the couch, watching the chaos on the news continue in silence. Fires, extreme weather, something about a species going extinct somewhere in South America.
It is hard to remember there is a world ticking on outside her little house in the mountains.
What did you expect? Getting friendly with an angel.
I donno.
Aw – did you think he was different? That you were special?
No…
Yes you did.
I thought, because we have to spend so much time together, that…
What? That you could be friends?
Dawn sighs angrily, clenching her fists.
She picks up the remote sitting next to her and impulsively throws is across the room. It bounces off a wall, leaving a dent, clattering on the floor loudly.
She lets out an exasperated growl, biting her lip and punching the couch as hard as she can.
Breathing heavily, she gets up and runs out the door to use her training equipment.
Neither of them speak for most of the walk the next morning. The sun is still shining in a clear sky, and Dawn has graduated to wearing a t-shirt and shorts instead of her usual layers.
She has crossed her arms tightly across her chest, her shoulders and neck sore from a tense, fitful sleep.
Castiel did not even look at her when she opened her door. It is like being led by a prison warden through a rec yard, one that happens to be embellished with natural beauty.
Dawn does not even notice he has fallen behind until he clears his throat. They have arrived at the lake, and he is standing beneath the nearby pine tree.
She turns to meet his eye, frowning angrily. She stands rooted to her spot, stubbornly waiting to continue, until he gestures for her to join him under the needles, jerking his head.
She huffs, and reluctantly stomps over to the tree.
"What, so you're talking to me now?" She demands.
"Dawn-" He tries.
"One minute I need to know my place, and then next, you're being all secretive under this tree?"
She thinks a glimmer of a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. This only enrages her further, the muscles in her face twitching and deepening her frown.
He sighs, looking away from her, amused. "Do you want to know the reason I find this tree 'calming'?"
She snaps some dry pine as she reaches his side. "Pray tell, Cast-ee-yell." She spits sarcastically.
"Something about this tree blocks out angel radio signal." He watches a bee meander above the lake.
"Angel radio?"
"Yes, the telepathic connection we share as a species. Something about this tree makes it… fuzzy. It makes it harder to listen in…" He looks at her. "…And be listened to."
Her face softens slowly. "I see…"
"Yes." He crouches down to sit on the ground, watching the bee again. She joins him.
"The news these days is pretty scary." She says after a few minutes of silence. They are both watching a fluffy cloud pass the tip of the mountain behind the lake.
"Do you remember when I spoke to you for the first time?" He asks.
She nods. "I tried to kill you."
He smiles. Dawn thinks it has been a while since she has said something that has made him smile.
Are you hearing yourself? She winces at the immediate self-doubt.
"I told you about Dean Winchester," He continues, "About the arrangement with him being unique."
"Yeah – raising him from Hell."
"Something happened to Dean in Hell. He was tortured by a demon named Alistair. He was offered a deal, that Alistair would stop torturing him if he started doing the torturing…"
She shakes her head. "Poor Dean."
"He accepted, eventually. Unknowingly, he broke the first Seal."
"What does that mean?"
"Dean was the first righteous man to shed blood in Hell. There are over 600 Seals, but only 66 have to be broken."
"What are Seals?"
"Locks to The Door."
Dawn gulps. "What's behind this door?"
Castiel turns his head to look at her. "Lucifer."
Her eyes widen. "Woah… What the fuck have those boys gotten themselves into?"
"They do not really have a choice. It is written – it is His plan."
She is quiet a moment, trawling her memory to recall a detail. "I remember, when you spoke to me, you said Dean was going to be instrumental for another war."
He looks away.
"Is this what you were talking about?" He does not answer. "All that stuff on the TV… Are we in the middle of an Apocalypse?"
"Not quite. The cage still remains locked. As long as it remains locked, the Apocalypse is preventable."
She swallows, her mind reeling from the information. Fear and uncertainty begin to bloom in her chest. "How long has this been going on for? You told me about this over a year ago."
"Oh, that…" He looks at his hands. "Yes, well, technically I raised Dean two days ago."
She whips around to look at him. "What?"
"When I spoke to you in 2007, Dean was still alive. He had not gone to Hell. My duties required me to visit you at that particular point in your timeline in order to introduce myself. It was easier to get information about progress with the Rift if we were on speaking terms at that time."
Her mouth is hanging open. "So… You went back in time?"
He nods. "It is getting complicated now that your timeline is parallel to the Winchester's. I now have several humans under my charge at the same time."
"You literally are in two places at once." Realisation dawns on her.
"More or less."
"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?"
He grimaces but does not respond.
"Am I not supposed to be 'privy' to this information?" Dawn smiles, looking up at the pine tree.
"The other angels believe I am getting too close to the humans in my charge. I thought it would be safer to speak to you in 'private'."
She tries to ignore the warmth that blossoms in her chest at hearing Castiel's trust.
See? He does care. Shut up.
"I meant what I said yesterday, Castiel." She says after a beat. "If there is anything that will makes this easier for you, I am used to people leaving after a certain amount of time. I can do without the walks. You should focus on Dean."
He narrows his eyes. "I am certain he would say the same about you if he was aware of our arrangement."
There is a glimmer of humour in his eye when he looks at Dawn.
"I doubt he'd remember me. We only met the once and it was a pretty straightforward hunt for him and Sam. Nothing remarkable."
"The names of those of you that survived were published. They remembered you."
She smiles, then a thought breaks it. "Did they look into how I died?"
"I assume so."
She sighs, disappointment radiating through her. She brings her knees up and rests her head on them, blocking out the cheery sunlight.
"They have been digging through the lore regarding Sins and Virtues," He continues. Dawn presses her face deeper into her legs, an ugly stew of anxiety threatening to bubble out of her. "There is still a chance you will go to Heaven."
She clenches her legs tightly.
"According to some theology, as long as you work against your sin and not give into it-"
Dawn straightens her legs in a snap, breaking some undergrowth where they drop. "I don't want to hear it." Her voice is clipped and terse.
He nods, leaning forward to stand slowly. It takes longer for her to calm herself enough to stand.
"For the record," He says, "I enjoy our walks. It is not a chore for me, like you seem to think."
She nods shortly and starts to walk in the direction of the house. Her mind is buzzing, and she is not able to accept the warmth in Castiel's voice.