Just minding my own business, touring some colleges, when this happened.
no matter how au the au, it’s always
Castiel knocks twice, then again, and when Dean opens the front door to the bunker, neither of them can think of a word to say.
They stare at each other – Dean with his hand on the side of the door, Castiel still with his hand half-raised as though to knock one more time. He looks tired and crumpled, grey around the eyes; he looks like he slept in his clothes, and slept badly.
On the other hand, Dean is now a demon, apparently.
“I got here as fast as I could,” Castiel says. He sounds out of breath, testament to it – like he ran. Maybe he’s just trying to breathe through Dean’s smoke.
and though I’ve known it for the longest time
and all my hope
all my words are all over written on the signs
but you’re my road walking me home