Note- And here, ladies and gentlemen, we have dad!cas and dean and young!sammy milked for all its worth XD I loved every second of writing this chapter.

I don't own it, bla bla bla

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Chapter 5 - The Road to Hope.

Cas tried to apply his knowledge from "normal" medical problems to the situation in front of him. Possible comparisons flew through his head, before he finally settled on one. "I'm going to treat this a little like an extended seizure. We don't have any muscle relaxants or tranquilisers, I'm just going to try and keep him still and make sure he doesn't hurt himself during the fit."

Dean nodded stiffly, moving forward to help. "No, Dean, let me handle this bit," Cas warned, ignoring the dirty look Dean shot at him.

"How- Why are you even here, Cas?!" Dean was full of questions. "What the hell is going on-"

"I need you to go get some cold water," Cas cut in, shooting a disapproving look at the weather outside. "It shouldn't be too hard." Dean set a determined scowl on his face and walked out of the shelter, snatching a flask from the floor near the door as he went.

Cas turned back to the small, shaking child in front of him. The small whimpers that floated towards him broke his heart. He shifted the blankets from his feverish body and under his head, gently taking the boys hands in his to stop him from tearing at his own skin. He hushed him and reassured him in a soft tone, the same one he used when his little brother had had a nightmare. By the time Dean returned with a full flask, the fit was drawing to an end.

They were lucky this time, it had been a relatively short and uneventful fit. Cas lifted Sam's light frame off the hard ground and onto the small pile of blankets in the corner, bundling him in with his hands tight by his side to discourage scratching. He laid a cold, wet cloth on the boys burning hot brow and ran a hand soothingly over his hair, damp with sweat from the exertion of the fit.

Cas turned to leave, giving Dean a curt nod as if to say that they were even now, but Dean caught his wrist.

"I need- can you stay? Please?" Dean's voice broke on the last word and Cas saw the man's fear and love towards the child radiate from his emerald eyes. "You could travel with us. We would feed you, protect you, shelter you. All you would have to do is help Sammy when he had his fits," blurted out Dean, his hand sliding down and tightly gripping Cas'. Cas was tempted to wrench it out of his grasp - nothing personal, he just didn't like being touched - yet he could hear the panic and pleading in the man's voice and didn't want to add embarrassment to the list.

"OK, I'll do it," said Cas eventually, feeling like he might regret this decision at some point, but it was worth a try. He was Castiel Novak - he'd survived eight years, he could survive a few more.

"Please! Just think ab- Wait... what?" questioned a breathless Dean. Cas smiled back reassuringly and shot a look at the sleeping boy in the corner, whose breathing was finally even in the peacefulness of his slumber.

"I said 'yes'. I miss helping people. I miss people, so much, sometimes. And you two seem nice enough. It's just a trial run for now, if it doesn't work out, I'm gone," clarified Cas sternly.

Dean let his hand slide from his grasp. "Thank you." He said gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck and gesturing to the second pile of rags in the corner. "You- you take that, I'll take the floor." Without waiting for a reply, Dean lay down on the damp, rotting floor beside Sammy, resting his head on his own arm and closing his eyes.

Cas sighed tiredly and slunk cautiously to the corner, sitting down and watching the two young men slowly drift to sleep. Castiel, for the first time in a long time, drifted into a peaceful and deep slumber, to the sound of gentle snores reverberating around the small shelter.

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Sam.

There was warmth wrapped around Sam that he hadn't felt in a long time - the warmth of sun, in thick slats as it snuck through the single window and onto his body. He opened his eyes, blue spots waltzing through his vision for a second before they faded, and then he caught sight of the rest of the room.

Dean was sprawled out, face-down on the floor a few feet away, sandy coloured hair sticking up in every direction. His clothes were ruffled and sleep-pressed, and he was snoring loudly. In the corner on the other side of the room, a very familiar blue-eyed man slept quietly, face pressed into a slight frown even in sleep. Sam's eyes widened in surprise, just as a memory hit him - uncontrollable tremors stabbing through him, the world slowly turning a murky grey as worried blue eyes met his own.

But what was Castiel doing here? As far as Sam could tell from their last meeting, he wasn't exactly too eager to make friends - and anyway, he had travelled in the opposite direction when they said goodbye. What the hell had brought the mysterious man here at just the right time?

Then, it clicked.

Castiel you idiot.

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"Castiel you idiot!"

Cas shot awake to the sound of Dean's angry voice, immediately aware of his surroundings as his eyes rested on Sam and Dean standing over him. Instinct taking over, Cas shot bolt upright, scrambling to his feet - only to see a scowling man with severe bed head looking back at him. "What the hell were you thinking?! Following us in the winter, staying out alone in weather like this?!" Dean demanded, his hands flying around him in irate confusion. Cas, bewildered, looked back like a deer in headlights.

Dean continued, now pacing back and forth in front of Cas' frozen, defensive stance. "You could have frozen to death! Or starved! Or been killed by a- Are you even listening to me?!" Dean asked, furious concern oozing out of him as he whirled on the man in front of him. Cas' mind took a minute to process what was going on. Dean, tough-man Dean, was concerned about him. Someone who was practically a stranger. A smile broke over Cas' face, fracturing the cool exterior he so often wore. Within seconds he was doubled over, laughing for the first time in a long time. Relief, amusement, a sense of belonging. Things so foreign to him flooded his chest. Dean tried to keep a straight face, but soon a smile was twitching at his lips. Cas' laughter was infectious.

When the shorter man had caught his breath and managed to suppress the snickers that shook his body, he looked at Dean, tears from the exertion of the laughing fit streaming down his face.

"That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time!" he chuckled. Dean looked shocked for a moment, before all three of them broke into hysterical laughter. It wasn't that the comment had been funny, it was just all the tension and fear and isolation that had been the staple of their lives for so long melting away and echoing off the walls and round the small world of their shelter. Filling ears and hearts with hope and happiness.

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"A bit more hope and happiness would be nice, Sammy."

Sam snorted mirthlessly. "Har har. All I'm saying is that we don't have a chance of getting anywhere further tonight, so let's stop for a little while! It's nearly dark now anyway!"

"But-!"

"No," Castiel interrupted, turning towards the adoptive brothers, "Sam's right, Dean. As much as you want to keep moving, we haven't stopped since sunrise. We need to rest."

Dean struggled for a second, then huffed in resignment. "Alright, fine, but we get moving earlier tomorrow. Okay?" After receiving nods from his two companions, Dean stopped and looked around them.

It had been a few weeks since Castiel's return, and they had left the familiarity of their shelter the day after Sam woke. Castiel, despite his awkward disposition, appeared to be quite a good person to have around - he mostly skimmed through the pages of his strange book when he was bored, or slept lightly. While Dean's feet were bloody with blisters and Sam's legs were a constant mass of pain, Castiel barely complained about much in the way of pain; in fact, barely complained about anything at all. Most nights would find him as a silent silhouette in the doorway of the place they stayed, or perching on the branch of a tree they had chosen the previous day.

Dean didn't know why, but whenever Castiel wasn't looking his way, he found his eyes drawn towards him. The small crease in his forehead as he frowned, the bright, cool blue of his eyes as he concentrated, the burst of happiness that came along with his smile. Something about the man was entrancing, and Dean had no idea what - and it scared him that somebody in the world had the power to draw his eyes with a single movement.

Sam, meanwhile, was as happy as he had been before the winter. Dean and Cas tried to ignore the new, small, blooming white patches dotted around Sam's hair, instead focussing on both the road and the youngest boy's smile, and Sam seemed to be pretty much over the fit. After thanking Cas profusely for the help (and for staying with them), Sam prepared himself for life on the apocalyptic road with a newcomer - which, apparently, wasn't all that bad.

Dean slipped as quietly as he could into a deep forest to the left, followed silently by the other two. His eyes traced every leaf that rustled, his feet scrapping on the craggy, muddy ground below him, and his senses pulled taught for any sign of movement.

With no incident, the trio arrived in a small clearing. The ground was dotted with morose but bright blue flowers, looking out of place on the bare, rocky earth, and Dean nodded in approval as he looked around.

"Good place to stay for the night?"

Sam nodded, grinning to his friend. "Yeah, I think this works."

The three didn't take long to start a small fire, the sky above them gradually melting from blue to a symphony of reds and oranges. Just as they sat down, Sam and Dean bickering about who was going to do the scavenging, Castiel caught Dean's attention by shooting him the roughest, widest grin Dean had ever seen him wear.

"So, Dean, do you think you can catch squirrel?"

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I'm so sorry it's short! The total word count comes to something like 1,700, which I am really not happy with, but hopefully I'll pop out another (larger) chap next!