Standing Together

Chapter 20

A/N it's 11:20 at night and im way I lazy to proofread so here, have this mess

The next few days aren't too bad. Castiel still has trouble sleeping, plagued by nightmares every time he closes his eyes, and every time they wake Castiel up, Dean wakes up, too, and has to coax him back to sleep. Needless to say, they both lose a lot of sleep, and it shows.

It doesn't stop Castiel from writing back to his fans, though, and Dean is more than willing to check out those fans' Twitter accounts to see how excited they are when they get the letters. Dean also assures him that no one seems bitter than they sent fan mail without getting a response, and though Castiel is a bit skeptical, he decides to believe the boy just because it makes him feel better. He also asks Dean to tweet out that Castiel can't go back to his P.O. box for a while, so sending him anything right now is a bit pointless.

It's July third today. Dean went out to grocery store to pick up some ice cream for them both. Castiel had given him very specific instructions to buy the mint chocolate chip Halo Top brand ice cream, which is both healthy and only comes in one-pint containers, so he can claim he'll feel better eating it. In reality, though, it's just because he hasn't had much of an appetite since the Louisiana bombing, but he doesn't want Dean to start fussing over him.

Castiel is just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling out of boredom, when the first explosion happens. He sits up with a gasp, his heart pounding in his chest. What was that? Where did that come from? What's happening? It can't be another terrorist attack. It just can't be. They're in the middle of a small, friendly neighborhood in Massachusetts. No one would attack here. It has to be something else, and he knows it has to be something else.

So why is he panicking? Why did his heart rate spike? Why does he feel like he just can't catch his breath? Why is he burning up, like he's running a fever of well over 100 degrees?

Castiel pulls his knees to his chest, making himself as small as possible. Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop.

But now he's too hot, like his body is in overdrive, working too hard to pump that blood and breathe so hard and quickly and oh my god, is he going to pass out?

Castiel pulls off his shirt and wipes his face, his neck, his chest; his shirt damp with both sweat and tears. He tosses it on the floor and grabs a pillow, hugging it to his chest and burying his face in it. His breaths are heavy but strained, and they must not be delivering enough oxygen to his brain because with every second, he feels more and more lightheaded.

Then the second explosion comes, and Castiel accidentally throws his pillow away from him, squeezing his eyes shut and clapping his hands over his ears. Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop —

Suddenly, he feels the bed dip next to him, and there's a hand on his back. Castiel glances over to see Dean sitting next to him, concern covering his features. Castiel uncovers his ears, wrapping his arms around his fiancé instead.

"Hey, Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asks, rubbing his back soothingly.

Castiel doesn't answer. He can't answer.

"Is it the fireworks?" Dean asks. "The neighbors always light them early."

Fireworks? Of course. Of course they're fireworks. Had he been in his right mind, he would have known that. Had he been in his right mind, it would have calmed him down.

"Shh, Cas, it's okay," Dean murmurs, holding him close. "You have to breathe, remember? Breathe."

Castiel nods and closes his eyes, just focusing on that. He can breathe. He can do that. If there's one thing he can do, it's breathe.