Five

Brooke's cellphone rang and when she picked it up, she saw that it was Sam calling her.

"Hey, Sam," she said, answering the phone.

"Hey. So, listen, I was wondering… What does Cass… like?"

Brooke hesitated. "What?"

"Like… Like what he does he like to do?"

"Is this for the bachelor party?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you and Dean had that covered already. It's tomorrow."

"I know, I know," Sam said, quickly. "And Dean has his own… stuff he has planned for Cass. But… I wanted to do something else with him before Dean gets him, since…"

"Since Dean's party is booze and strippers?" Brooke finished for him.

"Yeah."

Brooke nodded, though she knew that Sam couldn't see her. "Right," she said, and rubbed the back of her neck in thought. "Well… Cass likes… gardens. Uhh, bees. Butterflies. Flowers. Um…" She squinted. "Just… nature-y stuff, in general. I mean, you know how Cass is. He can kick the shit outta some demons, but if someone plonked a kitten into his lap, he'd probably cry."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like Cass. All right, well, thanks. I have an idea now."

"What is it?" she asked, smiling.

"I'm gonna take him to a botanical garden."

###

(CASS' POV)

Castiel took a deep breath of misted air, inhaling the scent of freshly turned soil and vegetation. He smiled. "It's beautiful here."

"Glad you like it, Cass," Sam said, standing beside him.

"I just wish Dean had agreed to come along," Castiel muttered, frowning.

Sam snorted. "You know how Dean is. Even if he did come, he'd be standing in the back, pouting, the entire time. He'd be bored out of his mind."

"Most likely, yes," Castiel replied, with a small smile. He looked around some more, slowly spinning in place. Everywhere he looked, there was green, and somewhere nearby was the sound of water babbling. "I should come back here one day with Brooke."

"Does she… like plants the same way you do?" Sam asked.

Cass smiled again. "Not really. Still, I think she might find this place… soothing."

Sam clapped him on the back. "Come on, man. Let's look around."

###

"There was an aviary there, too," Castiel told Dean, hours later. "The birds they had were amazing."

"Glad you liked it," Dean said, though he sounded distracted. "Now, come on. Enough about huggin' trees. We got some women to see, booze to drink." He grinned at Cass.

Castiel dutifully followed his best friend inside the gentlemen's club, if it was even nice enough to be called that. Stale alcohol filled Castiel's nose, a stark contrast from the fresh scent of plant-life he'd smelled hours before. But the former angel tried to keep the smile on his face. Dean was doing his best to make this bachelor party fun… in a very Dean sort of way. And Brooke had told him that it might be good for him to look at other women…

A scantily clad woman came to take their drink orders, and Castiel glanced at her body, but felt awkward doing so. She was not one of the dancers, so he wasn't sure whether ogling her was appropriate. Dean flirted with her a little, and the woman flirted back, but Castiel assumed she was hit on several times a day and that flirting back was almost part of her job description…

When his scotch came, he sipped it slowly—he had no intention of getting wasted, as Dean would put it. Bachelor party or not, he did not want to deal with a hangover the next morning, especially not since he was human now. He'd gotten drunk once, as an angel, and that once had been enough. Besides, everything had a different flavor now that he was human. He'd started drinking as an angel, as a way to get closer to Sam and Dean—mostly Dean—but now he would need to reacquire the taste of alcohol.

When the dancers came out, he found himself more interested than he thought he would have been. Actually, he was amazed at the way these women could move their bodies, and was impressed at the strength in them. It took work to pole dance, he quickly discovered, and he could not help but respect their craft. They twirled and lifted themselves effortlessly, and he found himself watching with rapt attention, his drink forgotten.

Dean landed a heavy hand on his shoulder after a time, and he jumped a little. "See? They're hot, right?"

Castiel tilted his head, studying the dancers. "They are attractive," he admitted. "But, to be honest, I'm simply impressed by their dancing abilities."

"Well, yeah, that too, I guess," Dean said.

"You don't think they're impressive?" Castiel asked.

"I guess I never thought about it," Dean replied.

Castiel smiled into his drink, taking another sip.

"So, which one's the hottest?" Dean asked. "I'll pay for a lap dance."

Castiel glanced at him, amused. "Why don't you take the lap dance, Dean."

"Nah, man, come on. It's your party."

Castiel shook his head a little, still smiling. "The hottest woman I know isn't here."

Dean tsked. "You gotta live a little. You got no imagination when it comes to women. You met Brooke and just… that was it. Didn't she tell you it would be good for you to look at other women?"

Castiel chuckled. "Brooke is it for me," he agreed. "But you're wrong about my lack of imagination."

"Oh, really?" Dean said, in a tone of voice that suggested utter disbelief.

Castiel gave him a slow smile, his eyes sliding away as he recalled the last time he and Brooke had had sex. "Would you like me to describe, in great detail, the kinky sex I had with my wife the other night?"

"Oh, gross, man," Dean complained. "No!"

Castiel shrugged nonchalantly, turning back to the pole-dancers. "Well, then, just know that I certainly don't lack imagination."

Dean fell silent for a long time, so long that Castiel went back to enjoying watching the dancers gyrate their bodies in fascinating ways.

And then, Dean spoke up, over the music. "I'm glad you have her."

Castiel turned to look at his best friend.

"I haven't always… been the best…" He shook his head. "Whatever. Just… I'm glad you guys… have each other."

Castiel smiled, staring down into his glass, understanding that those small words were a lot coming from Dean Winchester, and that they were an apology for… everything. "Thank you, Dean," he murmured, probably too quietly for the man to hear.

###

Castiel stood in front of the mirror, fidgeting with his tie for the thousandth time that morning. His palms were clammy with sweat. He stared at himself and saw a look of utter terror on his face, so he quickly looked away again.

"Dude, stop it," Sam said, approaching him. "Every time I fix your tie, you just go and mess it up again."

Castiel turned toward him to let the Winchester fix his tie again. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm just… I don't think I've ever been so nervous before."

"Why are you freakin' out so much?" Dean asked, somewhere in another part of the motel room. "It's not a wedding. You're just gonna sign some paperwork." Castiel had come to get them so that they could all go to the courthouse together.

"Come on, Dean, it's still a big deal," Sam retorted, before Castiel could say anything.

"Yeah, yeah. I promise I'm excited."

Castiel swallowed, turning to look at himself in the mirror again. "H-How do I look?"

"You're gonna knock her socks off, tiger," Dean said, coming up to him. "I still don't get the hair thing, though."

Castiel smiled to himself, studying the bird's-nest insanity of his hair, like he'd stuck his finger in a light socket. "Brooke will like it," he murmured.

"She better," Dean said. "It took you fifteen minutes and half a container of gel to get it to stick up like that."

###

A/N: Just an FYI, I did some research about like, what goes into legally getting married without a wedding, and I'm consolidating the steps and also partly making some shit up to make it more stream-lined for this fanfic because… um… this is a fanfic and doing it the realistic way would be boring lol. So just… this is NOT how getting legally married works irl.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean showed up at the courthouse first, and Cass spent the next few minutes standing stiffly and reminding himself to breathe. Why am I so nervous? he kept asking himself. In all the ways that really mattered, he and Brooke had been married since the day that Daphne had come home from work with their simple gold wedding bands, and they'd been bonded years before that. So, this simple formality—saying a few words and signing a document—should not have been affecting him so much. But it was. Because it felt like the last fifteen years of their lives had been leading up to this moment. And now it was finally here. And he was a human, with human emotions, and he was so excited and terrified and overwhelmed that he felt a little nauseous.

And then Brooke walked gracefully into the room, Peter and Daphne trailing behind, and Castiel found himself staring at his wife, the woman whose last name he was about to officially share. And he kept staring even as her image blurred from the tears welling in his eyes.

"Oh, Cass," she said, and went to him. "Are you crying already?"

He sniffled and chuckled, knowing she was only teasing him as she placed her hands on his face. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

"Do you like it?" she asked, and stepped back to twirl in the gorgeous royal blue dress she had on. Actually, all of her was blue. Her dress, her nails, her eye makeup, which had glitter in it, just like the nail polish. Her hair was pinned up with sparkly blue butterflies. She flashed like a jewel in the sun as she twirled again, and then stopped, giggling breathlessly, and held his arms. "Dizzy," she said. "Also, I swear I'm gonna break my ankles in these stupid shoes."

"You never have to wear heels again," Castiel promised, his voice hoarse as he tried not to break down into actual sobs.

"Do you like the butterfly pins?" Brooke asked. "I almost went with bees, but… you know. Bees aren't blue, and I was going with a theme."

Castiel shook his head, capturing her face in his hands and kissing her. "Everything is perfect. I love the butterflies."

She smiled at him, a little shyly, which was not a normal reaction for her. "Castiel," she whispered, and his heart hammered in his chest at the sound of his name on her lips. "Your hair."

He glanced up, smiling, as she reached out tentatively to touch it. "Watch your fingers," he warned. "There's a lot of gel. I couldn't make it simply stay that way, like I used to."

"I love it," she murmured, then touched his face again. "I love you."

Suddenly, there came a very quiet sound of someone clearing their throat to Castiel's right. He glanced toward the sound and realized that the judge officiating all of this had simply been standing there, waiting, for the past several minutes. Now Castiel cleared his own throat. "W-We're very sorry, sir. We're… a little emotional."

"It's all right," the judge assured him. "This happens all the time." He smiled. "You both look very nice. Now… is everyone else here meant to witness the event?"

"We are," Dean spoke up.

Castiel turned and saw Sam, Dean, Daphne, and Peter all standing in the background. He felt his heart swell, then. These people—and all the rest who would be waiting for them at the after party—were his family.

"Good," said the judge. "Now, do you two have wedding rings to exchange, or any other kind of ceremony to perform?"

"Oh," Castiel said, and looked down at the gold wedding band he'd been wearing for so many years. He glanced at Brooke and saw that she, too, was smiling down at her own ring. "We already exchanged rings, Your Honor," he murmured. "Long ago."

The judge nodded calmly. "Then, are there any vows you'd like to say, or would you like to get down to business and simply sign your names?"

Castiel took a deep breath, clearing his throat again as it tightened with emotion. "I… just had one thing I wanted to say." He glanced up at the judge, then stared at Brooke with wide eyes. "I-If that's… all right."

Brooke laughed, almost, but halfway out of her mouth it turned into a laugh-sob. She covered her mouth with one hand for a moment. "Cass, of course," she said, after a moment.

He reached out a hand to touch her face—

"Watch the makeup!" she warned.

He pulled back a little, then smiled and brushed his fingers gently across her cheek. "All I have to say is this: And Ruth said…"

Brooke smiled, and in a quavery voice, she, too, recited the words, so that their two voices spoke as one: "Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God" (KJV Bible).

Brooke laughed, afterwards. "Of course we'd have the same vows."

Castiel lowered his head in silent agreement and amusement.

"Have you completed your vows, then?" the judge asked.

"Yes," Brooke said.

"Then, by the power vested in me by the state of Kansas, I now pronounce you married," said the judge, with a smile. "You may kiss, if you so wish."

Castiel reached for Brooke's face, and then, remembering her makeup, settled for cupping the back of her head in one hand. He kissed her chastely, but deeply, and for probably too long a time, but he did not care. Swept up in the emotion of it all, he felt he could have stood there, kissing her, for an eternity.

Gently, she pulled away, and said, "There'll be more kissing later. Don't worry."

He felt himself blush, and then marveled at the feeling of it, his cheeks warm with blood. It was a strange sensation for an ex-angel, for angels did not blush. At least… not easily.

"All right," said the judge, bringing Castiel's thoughts back into the room, "time to sign your names. Remember to sign them as they are now, whether that means you are taking the same last name or each keeping your own."

With confidence, Brooke took the pen and signed her name on the marriage certificate: Brooke Evangeline Harris.

Castiel leaned down to read it, and blinked. "Your middle name is Evangeline?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sam said, from the back of the room.

Brooke stared at Castiel. "Don't you know that? I thought you knew everything about me."

He hesitated, thinking back, but already, his short time as a human had begun to affect the memories he'd gained as an angel. "I suppose I did know it. I just… never thought about it until now."

From behind him, he heard Dean say, "Wow. Chuck really did plan all this stuff out, didn't he? Man…"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring up Chuck on our wedding day," Castiel muttered, and then took the pen from Brooke's hand. His fingers shook, but he held the pen tighter, and signed his name: Castiel Emmanuel Harris. The middle name was new—something he'd found on all of the legal documents that Jack had created for him. He smiled every time he thought of it, and was grateful to his son for giving him this name. It was a name that held much meaning to both him and Brooke—and Daphne, too.

He straightened up, taking a shaky breath, and set the pen down. Then he turned to his wife and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing her in and trying to stem the flow of seemingly never-ending tears. "I love you," he whispered.

"Oh, Cass," she said, pulling back and wiping at his tears with her thumbs. "I love you, too. Stop making me cry! It took me way too long to put on this makeup!"

They laughed, smiled, choked back more tears, and turned toward their family.

"The marriage certificate only needs two signatures for witnesses," the judge said. "Choose amongst yourselves and come forward, please."

It took only a moment. Dean and Daphne stood up, glanced at Peter and Sam, who had remained sitting, and came forward to sign their names.

And that, it seemed, was that.

"Congratulations," said the judge, with a smile, when Dean and Daphne had stepped back. "Do you have any plans to celebrate?"

Castiel and Brooke glanced at one another.

Dean spoke up, then. "Oh-ho yeah," he said, a smile clear in his voice. "Man, we got plans for you two."

Brooke laughed. "I thought Jody planned the afterparty."

"Well, yeah," Dean said. "But I helped."

"We all helped," Sam added, standing up.

Brooke grinned at Castiel. "You ready to party?"

He glanced around the room, smiling slowly. "I'm honestly not sure I can handle whatever's been planned, but… I'm ready."

###

A/N: I had humongous writer's block during this entire section, so the result is… a giant mess. Have fun!

(BROOKE'S POV)

Brooke gazed around the inside of Jody's cabin, a big smile on her face. In fact, she was smiling so much that her cheeks hurt, but she couldn't stop. The lights were low; snack food and drinks were laid out on all the tables; 90s pop music was playing in the background. There were sparkly plastic streamers hanging from the ceiling and a big banner across the front entrance that read: CONGRATULATIONS.

And everyone was here.

Jody, Claire, Alex, Donna. Even Garth and his family—and Brooke didn't think she or Cass had ever met them.

"What's the theme?" Brooke asked Jody, after pulling back from their hug. "I can't figure it out."

Jody smiled. "Actually, Claire and Alex set most of this up."

The two young women approached Brooke and the others, near the front door.

"We thought… neither of us are married and we didn't know what a wedding afterparty was even supposed to be," Claire said. "So…"

"So, we turned it into, like, a prom thing?" Alex continued, glancing around.

Brooke laughed and gazed around the room again. Suddenly, the atmosphere made a lot more sense. She could see bowls of chips and punch out on the tables. And a prom theme would explain the 90s pop music, too. "It's perfect." She turned to Castiel. "You wanna be my prom date?"

Castiel smiled, ducking his head. "Of course," he murmured.

Brooke, a grin still making her face ache, turned back to Claire and Alex… only to see Claire staring at Castiel with a strange, uncomfortable look on her face. "You okay?" she asked, her smile faltering.

Claire blinked a few times, giving a small shake of the head. "Y-Yeah," she said. "It's just… Sam and Dean warned me that you guys… were younger, but… Uh…" She took a deep, shaky breath, still staring directly at Cass. "You look like… like…"

Castiel's face fell, and he nodded. "Like your father."

"Yeah," she whispered.

Brooke cringed internally at this exchange, suddenly wishing that she could disappear into the wall. With a grimace, she realized that, since Jack had made her younger, but kept Claire at her current age, she and Claire were now only a few years apart, both in their 20s. Brooke didn't know how to feel about that, but she certainly wasn't about to bring it up to anyone now.

"If I could give you your father back…" Castiel was saying.

Claire shook her head, forcing herself to smile. "No. It's… It's been a long time, and we've already talked about this. He and my mom are in Heaven, right? Together? It's…" She took a breath. "I like my life now. You don't have to keep apologizing to me. We're cool."

Castiel gave the girl a small smile and nodded.

"Come on," Claire said, smiling at them both. "You guys have to dance."

"What?" Castiel asked, looking mildly horrified.

Brooke laughed. "It is a prom. Dancing is kinda what you do. Even at a normal wedding party, dancing is part of it."

Castiel's eyes flicked to Brooke's; he now looked terrified.

"Cass, chill," she said, touching his face, and wishing, again, that she could read his mind. "We'll just do some slow romantic song, okay? All you have to do is hold me and spin in a circle as slowly as possible."

"I-Is that all?" he asked.

She laughed again. "That's all."

He took a deep breath, as if he were preparing for a battle, as opposed to a dance. "All right."

She shook her head amusedly, took him by the hand, and led him farther into the cabin. People called out to them, waving, smiling, congratulating them. And then the peppy pop song that was playing suddenly stopped and was replaced with some 90s love song, nice and slow. Brooke heard someone clap. Dean whooped, as if she and Castiel were about to do some crazy dance routine for a TV show.

They found an open spot on the floor as someone turned the music up a little higher. Castiel stood stiffly, his hands on Brooke's waist.

She smiled, cupping his face in her hands. "What's up with you?"

"I've never danced before," he said.

"Well, duh. I don't imagine angels have dance parties in Heaven. So what?"

"They're all… watching us." Cass glanced around at their friends and family, who had all stopped their own conversations to turn and look at them.

"Castiel," Brooke murmured, and pulled his head down to her until their foreheads were touching. "I know you can't hear my thoughts anymore, but I'm right here. And you and I are the only ones that matter right now. This dance isn't for them. It's for us. We're married now. This is… part of the celebration."

And just like that, he relaxed, breathing easier, allowing his shoulders to slump just a little. "You're right." He chuckled as he began to move, slowly, with her. "I'm sorry. I forgot how overwhelming emotions can be as a human. I just got caught up in it all for a second. I'm not used to feeling embarrassment."

"Don't apologize," she said, and kissed him.

The crowd around them cheered loudly.

They broke apart, laughing, and continued dancing. And they stayed that way for a long, long time, forgetting the people around them, only staring at one another in the low lighting, arms wrapped around each other. They went through several songs without realizing it, and then started in surprise when the loud, cheery pop music came back on, full-blast.

"You two have been hogging the dance floor long enough," Dean said, and clapped Castiel on the shoulder. "Let everyone else have a turn, huh?" He grinned at them.

They smiled back at him and quickly fell back as several people filtered past them to dance. Brooke watched as Garth and his wife and kids all danced together. They looked like idiots, and they looked like they were having the time of their lives.

Castiel left Brooke for a moment and returned with red plastic cups full of punch; he handed one to her.

"Whew!" she said, after taking a sip. "This is definitely spiked."

"Spiked?" Cass repeated.

"With alcohol."

"Oh. Right." He took a sip of his, and spluttered a little. "Yes, it's definitely spiked."

"Wonder who did that," Brooke muttered. She and Castiel glanced at each other, and then said, "Dean," in unison.

Brooke handed her cup to Cass and then went over and picked up the entire bowl of punch and brought it to Jody, in the kitchen.

"What's up?" Jody asked. "Somethin' wrong with it?"

"Dean spiked it. Well… we're pretty sure it was Dean."

Jody rolled her eyes with a smile. "You keep that one in here for the adults. I'll make another bowl for the kids. Thanks."

…

The rest of the night passed in more dancing, the consumption of far too many chips and pieces of candy, and a lot of spiked punch—though Brooke was sure to make herself and Cass drink water in between the cups of punch. At some point, pizza arrived and everyone mellowed out for a while as they ate that.

And then Jody, Sam and Dean came out of the kitchen with a freshly-baked apple pie, covered in birthday candles. The flickering candlelight looked beautiful in the low lighting, but Castiel was confused.

"This… this isn't a birthday," he said.

"Shut up and blow out the candles," Dean replied. "We couldn't afford to get you some giant white wedding cake, so we baked you a pie."

"Dean thought the candles would make it more fun," Sam explained.

"It is more fun," Dean said. "Now, come on." He carefully set the pie down on the nearest table. "Blow 'em out and make a wish, guys!"

Brooke laughed, reaching down to squeeze Cass' hand. "You ready?"

"What should I wish for?" he asked, as he leaned down—and then quickly reached up to snatch Brooke's hair away from the flames.

"Anything you want," she said. "But you can't tell anyone. Not even me. Otherwise it won't come true."

He nodded, his brows furrowing as if he were really taking this seriously.

"Oh, wait, wait, wait!" Dean yelled, suddenly, and fumbled in his jeans pocket for his phone. "Picture!"

And, suddenly, everyone was there, holding out their phones, some taking video, others with their fingers hovered over the camera button, waiting for the right time.

"Okay, go," Dean said.

Brooke and Castiel looked at one another for a moment, then bent down over the pie again, and blew the candles out together. Everyone cheered as candle smoke drifted lazily up into the air.

Brooke pulled the candles out, wrapping them up in a napkin.

"Here, I'll take those," Jody said, and Brooke reached back between the crowd to hand her the napkin.

"All right!" Dean exclaimed, with a huge smile on his face. "Pie!" He began to reach down for the knife set beside it.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Jody said, nudging through the crowd and stopping him. "Uh-uh! You'll ruin the tradition!"

"What tradition?" Dean asked, looking annoyed.

"Bride and groom have to feed each other the first bites."

"That's for cake," Dean argued. "This is pie. The tradition's already ruined."

Brooke couldn't help but laugh at this exchange.

"Two forks," Jody said, handing Brooke and Cass a fork each. "Now, dig in, get your piece of pie, and then you gotta hook your guys' arms together at the elbow and feed each other pie."

Castiel blinked. "Why is this a tradition?"

"Because it is," Jody replied. "Just do it. Come on, it's fun!"

Brooke was once again smiling so much that her face hurt.

"Daddy, when do I get pie?" Garth's little girl asked.

"In a second, honey," he replied. "Be patient."

"Come on, Cass," Brooke said, with a laugh. "We gotta do this so everyone else can eat the rest of our pie."

And so, Brooke cut them a slice of pie, plopped it onto her double-paper plate, and she and Castiel each took a forkful, hooked their arms together, and fed each other pie. It was the perfect temperature—not piping hot, but nice and warm. The apple filling was gooey and cinnamon-y and delicious.

"Good," said Dean. "Now. Pie."

Brooke laughed around her mouthful.

…

It was clear, by the end of the night, that no one was in a state to drive anywhere—due to the consumption of too much "Dean Punch," as everyone had begun calling it—so Jody, Claire, and Alex began making up beds on the couches and getting out sleeping bags. Everyone spread out in the cabin, all over the floor or taking the couches.

Brooke and Cass picked their little corner and lay their sleeping bags beside each other's and crawled inside. Around them came the hushed sounds of several people whispering to each other before bed. She realized as she settled inside her sleeping bag that she felt… safe. She reached out and held Castiel's hand, a pleasant, warm buzzing suffusing her body. Probably from the alcohol. She fell asleep quickly.

She did not know how long she had been asleep before she awoke again. For a moment, she did not remember where she was, and wondered why the ceiling of the bunker looked so far away. Recalling that she was at Jody's cabin, she smiled and turned her head to look at her sleeping husband. But he was not there. And she realized that the sound of low voices was what had woken her.

She could not pick out what was being said, but she could tell that it was Dean talking. Dean and Castiel.

Brooke lay in the dark, inside her sleeping bag, and stared at the ceiling, trying to decide how she felt about Castiel speaking to Dean quietly, in the middle of the night, without her. She wished—again—that she and Cass were still telepathic. She wished she could spy on their conversation. And she knew that that was wrong. She trusted her husband. It was Dean she did not trust, for all the lighthearted good will he had shown them in the past few days. Past precedent had put up a wall between her and the older Winchester, one that would probably always be there.

She tried to go back to sleep, tried to ignore the sound of their low voices. Their conversation went on and on, just outside the reach of her hearing, until she found herself floating between awake and asleep, lulled by the sound of their speech, which reminded her a bit of the babble of Enochian that had once lived inside her head.

Castiel eventually returned to her side, and Brooke closed her eyes, trying to pretend she was asleep. It seemed to work, for Castiel did not touch her or say anything. She heard him slide back inside his sleeping bag, heard Dean settle down somewhere in the room, and then all she heard was the breathing of several people as they all lay dreaming.

As she drifted off to sleep, she turned her head to gaze upon her husband—

—and jolted awake as she saw him staring at her in the dark. She opened her mouth and almost spoke, almost said his name, almost asked him if he was all right. But no noise escaped her mouth. He did not speak, either. And she knew, then, that he knew she had been listening—or trying to. There was nothing accusatory in his stare. He only looked a little sad.

They looked at one another in the dark for a long moment, and then Castiel reached over and placed a warm hand on her cheek. Then he took his hand away and closed his eyes and went to sleep.

It took a long time for Brooke to follow suit.