Dean didn't mind going to Cas. Cas was his best friend (aside from Sam), and Cas (like Sam) would never do anything to hurt him. But somehow being with Cas was different than being with Sam. He couldn't explain it. if someone had asked him to explain it he's shrug his shoulders and reply "eh, dunno".
So when he and Sam were on their way to Castiel's room, Dean couldn't explain the happiness he felt on the idea of spending more time with Cas.
Dean heard the music before Sam did, Dean knew the moment Sam heard it, because he stopped in his tracks. The gentle guitar and tambourine was familiar.
"You're thinking of me/the same old way.
You were above me/but not today.
The only difference is you're down there.
I'm looking through you/and you're nowhere!" the music called out.
Sam had caught the last few lines, and peered down at the brother in his hand, head tilted.
"That's a ridiculously apt song for you right now."
"har de har mister funnypants. Just knock already"
"Why tell me why did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight." The song continued, but was paused as Sam knocked on the door. Cas opened the door, phone in hand. He blinked up at Sam, and down at Dean.
"I'd like to go for a jog. Dean doesn't. How 'bout you stay with him now?"
Castiel bobbed his head in a nod and pocketed his phone, cupping both hands in front of Sam, waiting for him to transfer his brother.
Once Dean (along with his traveling accessories a.k.a, blanket and megaphone ((which was looking a bit rumpled from being handled too much))) was with Cas, Sam gave them a small smile and headed back to his own room. Probably to change into those grey sweatpants. Maybe even a sweatband around his head. Dean snickered at the thought. He's have to buy Sam a pink set of sweatbands. Once he was big again.
He looked not so far upwards to find big blue eyes crinkled in amusement.
"What's so funny?" the stubbed face asked.
"I thought of a gag gift I need to order once this goddamn spell wears off."
Castiel tilts his head thoughtfully.
"Shouldn't be more than 24 hours from now." He muses.
"Thank goodness. I don't know how much more of this I can take." The once angel glances down as he moves back into his room.
"Has it really been that bad being small?" Dean looked upwards.
"Sam didn't tell you what happened before he found me." He stated.
All traces of amusement leave the big face as he sits down at the desk, moving the hand holding Dean further out so they could converse properly. The important megaphone placed by the little man.
"What happened?" he demanded. Cas looked angry. Which was weird. Castiel didn't do angry often.
"Dude chill! Look, I was having lunch when I touched it, I shrunk, Sam saw my unguarded lunch and sat down in the seat. With me in it."
Two big nostrils flared.
"I climbed my way up to his ginormous ear and since then he's been treating me like a Faberge egg! He couldn't have known that I shrank!"
Castiel calmed down a little. He was still frowning though. A thought occurred to him.
"I'd like a snack. Would you like something?" okay, random subject change, Dean could deal with that.
"Sure." The man brings his hand in closer to his chest and walked out of the room.
"Where do you keep the chips?" he rumbled. Dean didn't reply. Castiel stopped walking and brought the hand holding his friend up to his face.
"Dean?"
"No chips. It's too loud and also creepy when giant chompers sound a hundred times louder." Not to mention he was still a little freaked out from what happened in the car…he wasn't going to be eating potato chips for a few weeks.
"Popcorn?" Dean thought it over for a few moments.
"Nothing wrong with popcorn. We have some jiffy pop."
"Wont that be too loud for you?" Cas asked, thinking of the popping. Dean shrugged.
"So leave me on the table while you pop it. No biggie." A corner of the big mouth twisted into a slight grimace, but Castiel nods.
After the popcorn has been popped, Cas scoops him up. It's almost comforting how careful he is. If Sam was treating him like a Faberge egg, then Cas was treating him like the hope diamond! Like an object of reverence….
Somehow the popcorn ends up under the hand holding Dean before it gets picked up and Dean gets a lungful of intense, fake butter scented steam. It fills his senses, chokes his throat and his body wants it OUT!
He coughs, quite hard.
Castiel panics.
"DEAN!" he yells far too loudly, bringing Dean up to his face. Dean flinches at the far too loud voice but it's hidden under the next round of coughs once he manages to take in a breath. A big finger comes close, trying to help. Dean grabs it for support to stay sitting up while he coughs out the last of it.
He finally manages to take in a few ragged breaths. Still holding on the finger. Without it, Dean doubts he'd still be sitting up. It feels like he coughed up his esophagus, and his chest hurts a little. His throat was feeling better before, not it feels raw. His torso and arms rest on the big finger provided.
"Dean?" the little head tilts upward. Two big, concerned eyes are really too fucking close, but Dean won't say anything about it because he was scared for a moment too.
"Maybe you should keep the popcorn away until its cooled down." He ended the sentence with a small cough. Another finger comes up from behind to gently rub his back. It feels nice. After a few more long (but not uncomfortable) moments, Dean moves off the finger.
"Put that on the list of things I never want to do again." He weakly jokes upwards. But the big eyes don't see him. They are turned down to the floor in shame.
"I'm sorry." Was the downtrodden apology that came from Castiel's mouth.
"For what?"
"I moved you over the steam. It wouldn't have happened had I been more careful-"
"CAS!" Dean yells to interrupt. Castiel finally lifts his eyes to look at him. Those big blue eyes are filled with so much regret.
"It was an accident! Accidents happen! No one could foresee that the buttery steam would be a bad thing! I forgive you!" A gentle exhalation and a softening of the face and all of the muscles (dean feels the muscles underneath him loosen a bit) means that Cas believes him.
Dean really, REALLY wants to give Castiel a hug right now. And in normal circumstances with them two alone he would have pulled him into a big bear hug, like every time he shows up at the bunker. But now, with the curse…
But Dean Winchester is nothing if not creative.
"Cas, bring me closer." He says softly. He's pretty damn close to that big face as it is, but Castiel complies. A few more instructions has the hand Dean's sitting on touching Cas's cheek and nose. The bigger man doesn't complain but it's an awkward angle and Cas's eye is less than (literal) inches away. Dean stands up and walks on to the fingers and throws his arms over the front of the big nose. They don't get very far but two dark eyebrows go up very fast.
The two big blue eyes cross, straining to see him. Underneath his arms the skin moves up and scrunches. It looks ridiculous. Dean immediately laughs. Castiel gently sways his head to the right, tipping dean off balance onto his butt. Castiel pulls his hand away from his face and rubs his nose.
"As nice as that hug was, it tickled!" a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of the bigger mouth. Dean scrambled to a stand and took a few steps back. That did him no good as he was standing in a fucking hand!
"it tickled, kind of like this!" a finger that offered support minutes ago now gently knocked dean onto his belly on the soft skin, rolled him over and rubbed at his stomach.
Assault on a ridiculously ticklish spot sent Dean into instant hysterics! His abs and abdomen were rubbed gently by Castiel's standards but very insistently. It was like being tickled by a Volkswagen beetle! A soft, warm, and careful Volkswagen that knew how to get to every ticklish inch of skin possible.
"Ca-ha-ha-ha-aaas!" he managed to wheeze out after almost a full minute of merciless tickling. The car sized finger finally retreats. Dean no longer feels like he might we himself. What a great feeling that is. He can't remember the last time he was tickled like that. Maybe when Sam was still single digits and smaller than him. He can't even recall the last time he laughed like that
"Once I'm bigger than you again, you are going to be jumped and ticked within an inch of your life!" he promised once the happy tears had been wiped and his breathing grew even. Dean Winchester keeps his promises.
Castiel nods, his face a satisfied smile. He picks up the now mildly warm popcorn and walks out of the kitchen.
"Once you're big enough to go more than a foot an hour, I'll look out."
Smug bastard.
"Hey! Let's watch in the big room! Drop me and the popcorn off at the map table."
There's something he'd been wanting to do.
Castiel follows his orders and drops both dean and the popcorn off at the map table. But he doesn't go to get the computer, no. he grabs a seat and sits down. Dean looks up. He wasn't expecting an audience. He wanted to do this alone.
"Why did you want to be here?" Castiel asks, curious. Dan looks down at his feet, his cheeks reddening slightly. He's standing on the Indian Ocean. Not far from the Philippines and Papua New Guinea. He recalled that both Bobby and his father fought the Japanese somewhere over here decades ago. He looks up to a face awaiting his answer. His brother might laugh, but Cas, he wouldn't.
"I wanted- Well, I wanted to walk around the world." He confessed. For a moment the bigger face creased in confusion, but in less than two seconds he realized what Dean had meant.
"Go ahead. No one's stopping you. I'll go get my laptop." Castiel turned his back and walked away.
"Thanks Cas." Dean whispered at the retreating figure. He walked north and then followed the equator, stopping to stand on cities and countries he'd only heard of.
Well, most of the countries on the map were outdated. Ukraine was a different size these days and there was no more Czechoslovakia. He made his way over to Scotland, singing spirit in the sky under his breath, trying to figure out where he and Sam had gone to burn Crowley's bones when Castiel returned, standing at the end of the table, clutching his laptop to his chest with an arm. His eyes darted over the table in search of the little man.
"Dean?"
He couldn't see him. Was he really that small? So easily overlooked? He cupped his hands over his mouth.
"I'm by Scotland!" he called out. The giants head perked up when he heard the small voice and he made his way over, closer to Europe. Only when his gaze finally found Dean did he let out a small sigh of relief and take the closest seat available.
Dean was a little miffed about the fact it took Cas so long to find him. "You're too small to be seen easily" a nasty voice whispered in his head. He ignored it.
"This is where we found Crowley's bones." He moved his left foot in a circular motion. Somewhere around that area. All those little towns and villages were hard to tell from one another except by name.
"The bones of the late Fergus McLeod." Cas confirmed. Dean nodded, making his way to the computer that was being opened.
"Did you finish your walk around the world?" it was an honest question, even if there was a glimmer of humor around the eyes.
"I'll finish it later. Let's watch more anime." Cas had brought his handkerchief and had set it in front of the computer. But that wasn't where he was expecting to sit.
"Would you like me to get the heating pad?"
No. No he didn't. He wanted to sit in his hand again. It had be comforting, it had been safe. But maybe Cas didn't want to hold him again.
In his moment of silence, Castiel was wondering if he had said the wrong thing.
Surely Dean didn't want to sit with him after moving him over that steam! He wasn't careful enough! Why would dean continue to give him his trust at this size? But Dean was quiet. Not responding to his question.
"Would you like to sit with me again?" He questioned softly.
"Yeah. You're warm."
Oh. That was why.
Nice save Winchester. Nice save. You want to sit with him because he's warm. Not for any other fucking reason. Like the fact he makes you feel safe, wanted, even loved.
No, you had to say he was warm.
You stupid fuckup.
You can't even man up tell the guy that you might have feelings for him! Like more-than-friends feelings! You don't even care about the fact that he has a dick! You can't even tell him how sad you get every time he walks out of here with a bag, headed to who-knows-where for who-knows-what-reason only to show up again later mugged by some idiot who might have killed him!
At this point Dean has worked himself into a rut in his head of: looser, fuckup, cant admit your feelings." The little voice in his head whispered nastily "one day he's not going to come back to you. He doesn't need you." His fists clenched at his sides while his breathing rate increased quickly. He started shaking.
"Dean?"
Oh god, what if cas never came back one day? What would he do if Castiel got gunned down in some alley in the middle of nowhere for his wallet and never made it back? What if he never heard how much he was needed?!
"DEAN!"
Warm fingers encircled him from the back. He panicked and flailed after finding himself scooped up and trapped in two cupped hands.
"Dean, copy my breathing pattern. In and out slowly, come on. In. and out. In. and out. You can do this. I know you can" Loud and exaggerated breathing came from the giant above. After a few repetitions Dean found himself copying the rhythm and slowing his breathing pattern. A large thumb moved in front of him, Dean placed both arms on it. His trembling continued for a bit. Once his breathing slowed to a normal rate (with only a few small hitches in his breath) Cas moved on.
"I'm going to count to thirty backwards. Thirty. Twenty nine. Twenty eight. Twenty seven." It was soothing, hearing his voice recite like that. A finger moved down to rub his back in time with the numbers. It helped him fully relax and end the panic attack. The finger moved from his back to his head, rubbing his hair back in a slow, tranquilizing motion, helping him slacken his hold on the thumb in front of him. He still held on to it, but not as rigidly as before. The recited ended when he reached zero, but the rubbing continued. He wasn't shaking any more now.
They were both silent for a few minutes. Castiel never ceasing rubbing Dean's head, and Dean not looking up.
"Feel better?" Castiel broke the silence. Dean nodded.
"I've never seen you have a panic attack before." The giant noted with an unspoken question mark.
A panic attack? Shit, Dean hasn't had one of those since he was fourteen and accidentally broke a vase in Bobby's house. The older hunter had found him hyperventilating on the floor next to the china shards and had calmed him down, sitting down on the floor next to him, making Dean match his slower breathing and counting backwards calmly like Cas had.
"Never liked that piece of junk anyway" Bobby told him later as they cleaned it up together.
No. that wasn't the last time he had one. He'd had plenty of them after hell. Most of them had been mild and lasted longer, but he'd been by himself and managed to drink his way into oblivion to calm down.
Dean took in a deep but shuddering breath, grounding himself.
"It's been a while since I had one." He admitted.
"What triggered it?" Dean swallowed and tensed.
"Is it me?" What?
"No! No, it's not you."
"Is it something I did?"
Yes. You leave.
"No."
Castiel didn't believe him. He knew Castiel didn't believe him. But now Dean was exhausted and in no mood to deal with any feelings. The coughing and then the tickling and the panic attack drained his energy. It felt like his health bar was at ten percent and fading fast.
"Want to continue the show?"
"Yeah." The cupped hands shifted, sliding him gently into the palm of one hand. The other hand arranged his blanket around him in a crescent shape. Dean grabbed handfuls and wrapped what he could around himself. Once the show was playing the free hand was cupped under the other, giving Dean a better view of the screen as he was boosted an extra two inches. Not that it mattered. His eyes drooped ten minutes into the episode. A gentle breeze blowing down on him was Castiel's breathing through his nose.
He was safe.
And with that knowledge he fell into a gentle slumber.