Chapter 47

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Castiel has fun filming the music video with Jack that week. They even do a behind-the-scenes type of thing, but Castiel makes it very clear that he's not doing any interviews or monologues for the camera. It's partially because he wants it to be Jack's video, but also because he doesn't really want to do anything like that during what was originally his down time.

Flash forward and it's Thursday night — Friday morning? Castiel's fast asleep, worn about from shooting the music video. He's not even having a nightmare, which is always a plus. He's actually dreaming about puppies, and even though he doesn't realize he's asleep, he never wants to wake up.

Bang!

Castiel sits up quickly. What was that? Where did that come from? What's going on? What if something bad's happening — something really bad, like another bomb? Or maybe it's a gun, and there's someone in the building trying to kill them.

Castiel's heart slams against his chest, and he can feel his pulse in every inch of his body. No matter how hard he tries, he can't catch his breath. A wave of heat washes over him, and it's not long before a thin layer of sweat covers his whole body.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Castiel whispers, over and over and over.

What does he do? He's alone in a hotel room, hundreds miles away from almost everyone he loves. The whole country's probably asleep right now. But he needs someone to talk to, or even just someone to listen to, before his heart literally jumps out of his chest. What does he do? What does he —

Castiel looks over at his phone. It's not even 3:00 am. He shouldn't be calling anyone right now. Everyone he loves is probably asleep. But he's having an panic attack all alone in an unfamiliar room and he needs something to hold on to.

"Hey, Siri," Castiel says quietly, his voice shaking. "Call Dean."

Please work, please work, please work, please work.

"Calling Dean."

Castiel fights back tears. He's going to be okay. Everything's going to be fine. He just needs to hear Dean's voice, and everything will be fine.

He puts his phone on speaker and waits for Dean to pick up. And he waits. And he waits. Dean has to pick up. He's going to pick up the phone. He promised he'd be there if Castiel called. Where is he?

He feels a tear slip down his cheek. He just wants to hear Dean's voice. Is that too much to ask?

"Cas, it's, like, 6:00. Why are you awake?"

And there it is. There's Dean slightly annoyed, sort of concerned voice. Just hearing him speak calms him down a little bit. Dean's here — in spirit, at least — and he's okay and he cares and he cares about Castiel and that means that Castiel's okay, because Dean's here and he cares and —

"Cas?" Dean says again, sounding worried.

"Dean," Castiel says quietly, because it's all that he can manage, and he's sure that's clear in his voice, but he doesn't care because he's talking to Dean, and that makes everything better.

"Cas? What's wrong?" Dean asks, using the soft, concerned voice he always uses when something's up.

"I just — just talk to me?"

"But what's wrong?" Dean asks. "Why — you're having a panic attack, aren't you?"

All Castiel manages to say is a squeaky little, "Yes."

"Okay, well, let's talk about something fun," Dean says. "Like, how about we talk about Disney World? Remember when we went to Magic Kingdom? And remember when we rode the People Mover over by Space Mountain, and we just went around the whole Tomorrowland area? And how we just got to sit together for a few minutes and snuggle and watch all the people? That was fun, right? It was nice and relaxing, and there was never a long wait, so we could do it over and over and over. And then afterwards, we went to this little cart nearby and you bought a soft pretzel, but it was shaped like Mickey Mouse's face? And it was way more expensive than it needed to be, but it didn't matter because it was so good?"

"And how I offered you a little piece and you tried to eat the rest of the pretzel," Castiel adds, his voice shaking slightly, but he's a bit calmer than before. He's not sure what it is — just his voice, or how he gets Castiel's mind off his anxiety — but Dean's good at calming him down.

Dean chuckles softly. "But it was such a good pretzel! I couldn't help it!"

Castiel smiles slightly. Disney was fun. It had really put him in a good mood, at least for a little while. The calm before the storm.

"Feeling better?" Dean asks.

All Castiel says is a simple, "Yeah."

"There's still a little bit of time left until my alarm," Dean says. "I'll stay on the phone if you want — I really wouldn't mind; just say the word— but if you don't really care, I could also go back to sleep."

It's clear that he'd rather sleep than talk, but he's trying his best to make sure Castiel doesn't realize, which is cute. Part of him still wants to talk, but he knows Dean has to go play football tomorrow, and that won't go as well without sleep. As much as they both value their relationship, Castiel firmly believes his career should come first — even if Dean doesn't always seem to agree.

"Go to sleep," Castiel says finally. "I'm gonna do the same."

"Are you sure?" Dean asks. "Because if you want to —"

"Sleep, Dean," Castiel insists. "It's nonnegotiable."

Dean chuckles softly. "Okay, okay. Sleep sounds good."

"'Night, Dean," Castiel says. "Love you."

"I love you, too," Dean replies. "And I can't wait to say that to you in person tomorrow."

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