Chapter Text
The last of the twilight gave way to a full moon that lit up the sky, strong enough to mute the stars dotting the expanse of darkness. It dawned bright and alluring on the horizon, permeating everything in pale pink. The Strawberry Moon was a natural occurrence that happened every summer and had always captivated Castiel’s ancestors. In his case, though, he wasn’t sure if he’d admire the Strawberry Moon as much if not for how the event had always been intertwined with Castiel’s magic, coaxing his powers from the very beginning and even bleeding into his dreams.
Whenever Castiel experienced this dream, it was always filled with pink shades that eventually turned to greens, intense and spellbinding, cut through with vertical slit pupils, framed by skin decorated with a crescent moon.
‘With the past in the present, what was once divided by steel will be graced by the Strawberry Moon, and both angelus and the one touched by the moon will join as one.’
Castiel had heard the divination ever since he was a baby, his mother’s words lulling him to sleep and making him believe in fairy tales as much as he trusted his own powers. Not even his mother’s death swayed his conviction as a child. But as each summer came and passed and he still found himself alone, Castiel’s belief started wavering, and at twenty-eight, he had long stopped believing in his mother’s old words.
Any prophecy could fail. It was rare, especially when it came from powerful witches like Naomi Novak, but sometimes fate could fold into itself, like a ripple in water being disturbed by a stone.
So as another summer came to an end, and he endured his usual walk against the early morning breeze from his car to the apothecary, Castiel felt more resentful than anything whenever he had that dream.
Castiel crossed the street leading to his shop, with the moisture-laden air of September licking at his skin, considering if it hadn’t been better to skip work altogether and stay home. Sometimes he did that. Whenever he woke up shivering, tear-streaked paths along his cheeks, every muscle in his body wound tight, and his heart racing painfully in his chest, he took a sick day — perks of being his own boss.
But today, he woke up with a burst of stubbornness that pulled him out of bed, grumbling through slapping his coffee machine until it finally started working and cursing silently when the water from his shower didn’t heat up. Some years ago, these things would be easy to fix. With a flick of his hand, his magic would slip from his fingers and fix whatever was broken in a blink of an eye. But because of his condition, Castiel refrained from using his magic outside of work.
That was why once he reached his car and it wouldn’t start, he spent twenty minutes with his head stuck in the open hood, trying and failing to fix it.
With a sigh, Castiel finally relented and used some magic to bring life back to the vehicle. He knew it wouldn’t last much longer. His car was an old 1978 Lincoln Continental that he was very fond of and was easy to drive back when he still had plenty of magic to spend. But now that he tried to spare what little he still had left, his car had been giving him more and more trouble as time passed.
As he entered his shop almost half an hour later than usual, he knew his bad luck was just starting. After all, the signs were all there, but he just had to test his luck.
It was a good thing that he usually arrived at the apothecary earlier than his only employee to open up the shop, so he made his initial tasks in amenable solitude.
The herbal scent wafting around Bewitched Corner was so beguiling that gradually Castiel felt himself calm down. Even during his most challenging days, the familiarity of the apothecary was a source of solace to his senses, with the dark walls and walnut shelving giving it such a homey atmosphere it never failed to bring him peace.
Although the space wasn’t big, Castiel still managed to organize the area into sections. One side was stocked with ingredients that went all the way up to the ceiling. To reach the higher shelves, Castiel used a ladder that moved along a rail depending on what the patrons sought.
Potions and other blends were set on the opposite wall in a colorful display of ceramic jars, glass vials, and flasks. There was a small section filled with medicinal herbs and plants that gave a nice touch of greenery to the space, and there was even a sage green hutch filled with books for sale, infusing the place with the scents of paper and ink.
After restocking agrimony vials to their respective shelf, Castiel scanned the rest of the jars, all set in alphabetical order, musing if he should go ahead and refill the wormwood and mandrake as well. He ended up deciding to do it after he’d dusted off a couple of scrying glasses they had available. Castiel had been able to get in touch with one of their suppliers and managed to get hold of a few of them, even though they were hard to come by.
Castiel had just turned the signboard on the door to open and taken his spot behind the counter when the rusty bell over the door tinkled.
Charlie’s auburn hair came into view before the cheerful woman entered the shop, her aura bright with glee.
“Ding-dong, bitches,” she greeted with what she had previously explained was a Vulcan salute.
“It’s just me,” Castiel deadpanned.
“Bitch?”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Boss-bitch?”
Castiel sighed. “Just get to work, Charlie.”
“Roger that!” Strolling around the counter, she vanished into the back room.
Castiel huffed quietly, forever intrigued by the petite redhead. They had met at her job interview three years ago, and Charlie immediately perplexed Castiel by asking him if he was a doctor because he surely was McDreamy.
He had then informed her that he didn’t understand the reference, which prompted an hour-long conversation about Grey’s Anatomy, among other shows. She didn’t have the best resume for the job, but she was exactly what Castiel needed — someone carefree, with a different point of view about what they could do to develop the shop. Charlie eventually proved herself even more resourceful than he had ever hoped for when it quickly became apparent that she was an expert with high-tech knowledge. She designed a website that allowed their shop to advertise their goods, and eventually, customers from all over the country began ordering from Bewitched Corner due to the promotion online.
By the time Charlie emerged into the front of the shop again, Castiel was writing a list of orders they had for today so that he could start working on them in his workshop.
“I have a feeling something good is about to happen,” she said by his side.
Castiel hummed absently.
“No, seriously, Missouri told me we would have a peculiar couple of days at the shop.”
“If she says so…”
Castiel had little faith in words like those, not when they applied to himself, even though many witches, such as Missouri, had focused their craft on divination. He didn't even dare to hope the day would be out of the ordinary. It was sure to be another day devoted to concocting potions and charms and ensuring that the products were marketable and in the best condition… in other words, the same old, same old.
“So… have you heard about the latest gossip?” Charlie sing-sang.
Lawrence wasn’t exactly a small town, but the community was still tight enough that news traveled fast around here.
Castiel snorted, amused. “What is it this time? Has Mrs. Alcott’s parrot gone missing once more? Did Mrs. Benton turn Mr. Benton into a frog again? Did Ash buy a new pot smoker?”
She narrowed her eyes at him before continuing, “Actually, there’s a new hottie in town! He’s a familiar…”
Castiel groaned. “Charlie, no…”
“Charlie, yes!” She placed her hands on his shoulders to force him to turn and look at her. “C'mon, Cas, how much longer will you show up here with your grumpy-cat face?”
Castiel released an offended sound. “I do not!”
“You do!” Her eyes turned pleading. “And yeah, I'm all for love in all forms. And if you were happy by yourself, more power to you, in my opinion. But you're not. This guy is a familiar… he could help with your—”
He glared at her.
“Your magical situation,” she finished. “Jeez, Cas, what did you think I was gonna say?”
He shrugged, feeling his cheeks heating up. The truth was, it had been a while, sexually wise, so who could blame his mind for going straight to the gutter?
“Word around town is that he's the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, so maybe if you said hi. I mean, you're not that bad. Well,” she paused, pursing her lips while giving it some thinking, “you do have a dick which immediately makes you not my type.”
“Charlie!”
“I digress.” She waved a dismissive hand at him. “But maybe he could be it. He just started working for Ellen at the bar. His name is—”
“Stop! Please stop…” he interrupted, raising the pen he was holding. “I don’t want to hear it.”
She threw her hands up. “Fine! I’m going to work.”
“Yes, please do that,” Castiel breathed in relief and turned his eyes back to the computer screen, though it took him a long time to actually read any of the words.
They spent the rest of the morning working. Charlie was the “tech fairy”, as she liked to call herself, and was currently redesigning the shop’s website, only pausing when a new customer entered, and she had to turn her attention to them.
Castiel, for his part, did his favorite thing — lose himself in his workshop at the back of the shop. And no, if anyone asked, he wasn’t hiding. He was merely regrouping, Charlie’s words still echoing in his head.
It wasn’t the first time she had tried to set him up with someone, and she wasn’t the only one either. Meg’s favorite hobby was to embarrass Castiel with prospective suitors. Even his brother Gabriel pestered Castiel to go on dates whenever he visited from Los Angeles.
It wasn’t as if Castiel hadn’t tried. He had dated before, even though those instances were sparse and never lasted long. But after his last relationship had ended the way it did, Castiel had simply given up. He would never admit it out loud, not wanting to disappoint the people who loved and wanted to see him happy, but Castiel was done with romantic relationships.
He was quite alright, though. He had his own apartment, the shop he had inherited from his mother, and he was happy with the work he got to do.
So that was how he spent the morning — mixing salves and preparing healing potions, enchanting handmade herbal creams, or putting together several unique charms. The energy was palpable as he harnessed his inner power. His body came alive, his skin buzzing with electricity until his magic started dancing in the air, illuminating the room with dazzling hues. He kept going back and forth between the front of the store to grab the herbs and ingredients he needed and his workshop again. His toolkit was always clasped to his waist, the belt with several pockets a heavy but reassuring weight around his middle as he took out tweezers, pincers, or tinctures as needed. He worked methodically and meticulously, keeping his chopping block always in front of him on top of his working table with several sizes of bowls, a mortar and pestle, along with an array of ingredients lying neatly on the tabletop.
Some of the items he purchased already had spells cast on them, but with certain potions, salves, or charms, he enjoyed enchanting them further and putting his own personal touch on them. Most of their stock was obtained locally, but several rarer ingredients he had to order from afar, sometimes out of the country, so he always tried not to let anything go to waste.
When Castiel took a break, it was almost lunchtime. He was exhausted and could feel his aura taut around him in its need to refuel after all the energy Castiel had drained from it. It used to be different. Some years ago, he could go a whole day tapping at his magic and feeling it flow through him into the world with ease. But he knew his condition was getting worse, and soon there wouldn’t be any more power left.
A cold and frightful hollow lodged inside his chest each time he dared to think of what he would do when that day finally came.
He emerged through the door behind the counter that connected the rooms in the back to the front of the shop just as Charlie was getting ready to leave. She usually stayed until closing hours, but she was driving out of town to attend the union of her girlfriend’s cousin with his familiar, which was why she was leaving sooner this Thursday for the weekend celebration.
“How do I look?”
Castiel smiled. “Lovely.”
She grinned in return. “And how’s my aura?”
Castiel huffed. The way a witch could perceive an aura varied with the relationship that said witch had with each person. Most times, Castiel could only identify a predominant color with an additional one. Sometimes he would discern three if the person was his blood, like, for example, Gabriel, who had an aura made mainly of gold shades, with caramel and white as its secondary ones. In Castiel's lifetime, he had only known a true rainbow aura once, and it was such a rare occurrence that most people who experienced it would remain together for life. However, Castiel had missed his chance, and he was certain that he didn’t even cross that person’s mind nowadays.
Shaking himself of his thoughts, Castiel studied Charlie’s main red aura with orange swirling at the edges. It was taboo to reveal how many colors one saw unless it was someone like family or a lover. So, as usual, Castiel refrained from commenting on the colors themselves and simply said, “You have nothing to worry about. I’m sure you’re Gilda’s favorite aura.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up with joy before she leaped forward and wrapped her arms around him. “Thanks, Cas.” She kissed his cheek before whispering, “One day, you’ll see it, too. Your favorite aura is out there, I’m sure.”
Castiel gulped hard, hugging Charlie tighter so she wouldn’t see the melancholy that was surely crossing his face. Because Castiel had already seen it so many years ago, he sometimes wondered if he hadn’t dreamed it all, an aura made mainly of shades of green to match the boy’s eyes, the hue so bright and vivid all the other colors cascaded through it.
When they pulled away, Castiel wished Charlie a pleasant trip and shooed her out the door so she could enjoy her weekend.
Castiel quickly closed the shop to have his lunch in peace, taking a seat in the backroom before unfurling the neatly tin-foil-wrapped chicken salad sandwich he had packed at home and eating it in silence.
The rest of the afternoon was peaceful, with only a few of his regular clients showing up to restock their usual purchases.
Getting home that afternoon was much of the same, the last of the sunlight giving way to lavender hues that filled every window of the apartment facing west with an ethereal view.
Castiel breathed a sigh of relief as he deposited his keys on the little white key bowl next to his front door. He had ordered it from Etsy and had paid extra to have it personalized and put under a spell. Regardless of how small, a smile would always appear on his face when he saw the painted bees magically moving above the words ‘So good to bee home’, and heard the soothing buzz of their wings beating rapidly.
Coming home at the end of another workday, especially lately with how drained he became after it, always brought him a level of comfort that he didn’t think would ever change. Tonight was no different. And as usual, he headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner after changing into gray sleep pants and a loose shirt beneath a comfy oversized fleece jacket.
In the last few months, it was much more common for Castiel to have no vigor after work to whip up an entire meal from scratch. So in the morning, he usually prepared a quick sandwich to have for lunch at the shop, and for dinner, he either went for takeout or pre-made meals, which were quick and easy to get ready, even if not the healthiest of options. And granted, he missed some good old homemade food sometimes, but he just didn’t have the energy or patience for more.
Looking at his options in the fridge today, Castiel forwent the pizza leftovers and put a serving of frozen spaghetti with meat sauce in the microwave.
Like most nights, Castiel sat alone at the kitchen table to enjoy his dinner, but unlike most nights, there was something new — a clear guitar-driven strong beat of music resounded against the walls. Castiel frowned. That was probably the new neighbor.
Castiel had noticed the moving van outside the building the previous Monday morning, and even though he had caught some noise here and there that let him know the apartment next to him wasn’t empty anymore, Castiel still hadn’t seen who had moved next door.
Maybe Castiel ought to introduce himself and welcome the new resident like the good neighbor he was intent on being. But he hadn’t had the vitality to do the socially required thing so far.
Well, Castiel could always blame it on his more introverted personality. He lacked the necessary ‘people skills’ to keep strangers entertained with small talk and pleasantries.
With a mirthless chuckle, Castiel resumed his meal, purposely ignoring the nagging voice in his head telling him that this might be the cause of why he could never sustain a relationship. Especially with the passing of another Strawberry Moon, dwelling on such thoughts was a further reminder that the window of time for the prophecy to happen this year was closed.
Castiel hadn't shied away from doing his best at the beginning of those relationships. But he was honest enough with himself to admit that he had never committed to anyone completely, never nurturing those early emotions into something that would last. It had been twelve years since he had felt like trying. When he had fallen so absolutely, it had taken everything in him to escape the darkness he sunk into once he realized it was a hopeless feeling.
It was clear Castiel hadn’t moved on, regardless of how unnoticed his infatuation had been back then. It wasn’t even surprising that after a few years, he had finally given up on dating altogether. It brought him to his current situation, waking up alone every morning, going to work only to return to his apartment every night… alone.
At least with the new life filling the apartment next door and the music reverberating through the walls into his home, a small part of Castiel didn’t feel so lonely tonight.
So, with a small smile, he tried to count his blessings and finished his dinner.
Despite his positive thinking, waking up the next morning was a struggle. The headache welcoming him today wasn’t uncommon, especially with the progression of his condition in the last years, but it wasn’t his worse episode. Groaning in annoyance and pain, Castiel dragged himself out of bed, his aura polluted with frustration and grumpiness that not even his first fix of caffeine eased.
Thankfully, his car worked on the first try, and just before nine o’clock, Castiel was pulling over a couple of blocks away from his apothecary.
The temperature outside was unusually warm today, so Castiel shucked off his trench coat along the way. September was, in a way, bittersweet; with his body still deep in the summer groove, realizing that colder days were just around the corner could be a shock to the system. But at the month’s end they would celebrate Venus when the planet was most visible in the sky. It was a beautiful and picturesque festivity, and every year Castiel looked forward to it, so he always counted that as a plus.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that only when Castiel was already crossing the street did he see the cat standing on the other side.
They both stopped in their tracks when they noticed each other, and suddenly the earth seemed to tilt beneath Castiel’s feet. The orange tabby cat stared intently at him, its green eyes burrowing into Castiel’s very soul. Castiel tried to focus on keeping his breathing steady, his pulse pounding as he held the cat’s piercing gaze. Castiel didn’t even realize he had gripped his trench coat into a bundle of fabric until his nails dug into his palm through the fiber, and it was all he could do not to pass out.
The cat looked like any commonplace specimen, with its orange stripes and an uppercase ‘M’ along the forehead. Yet everything about it seemed familiar and captivating, even though Castiel was sure he had never seen this particular cat before.
The feline sniffed the air, whiskers twitching as they watched each other. With another shaky breath and a step forward, Castiel seemed to break the spell that had fallen upon them. With a quick movement, the cat turned around and ran away, rounding the corner at the end of the street and disappearing as if it had been nothing more than a dream.
No. Castiel knew about dreams, and this hadn’t been one of those instances. This cat had been real, as solid as Castiel was. And yet…
Castiel knew… he just knew he had been dreaming about this cat his whole life.
Castiel tried to distract himself by doing his morning chores around Bewitched Corner before opening the store, and the rest of the morning went by idly, with a slow influx of customers.
As the afternoon progressed, his headache still throbbed in the back of his eyes. With no customer requiring his help, Castiel went to the backroom to brew some chamomile tea. While the fusion heated up, he absentmindedly rubbed his temple in an effort to lessen the pain, but it appeared as if nothing would work at this point. He was just curling his fingers around the heated mug when he heard the bell chiming again.
“I’ll be right there,” Castiel announced, grasping the mug before he opened the door and stepped out from behind the counter. When he raised his gaze, his heart came to an abrupt halt.
Right in front of him was the boy… no, man now. He was different, shoulders wider, jaw sharper, face covered in a five o’clock shadow. But still the same eyes, still the same soft expression, still the same rainbow aura. Still beautiful, still Dean Winchester.
Castiel could feel his heart jumpstarting into an erratic beat, and somewhere in the distance, he knew he had dropped the mug and could hear it shattering at his feet. But as he counted each ticking second of his heartbeat drumming loudly in his ears and struggled with every breath he took, he couldn’t move. Because he had dreamed about this before, had dreamed countless times about this very moment, and he was so afraid this was just another reckless dream, he didn’t dare to move.
But then Dean was moving on his own, his voice a deep rumble as he said, “Shit!” and rounded the counter to kneel in front of Castiel to pick up the pieces of ceramic. “Are you okay?” he asked, peering up at Castiel.
Castiel could only nod, taking a quick shuddering breath when Dean moved to find a cloth and started wiping the floor. Castiel stood there, fingers itching to card through Dean’s hair to ensure he was real. But instead, Castiel remained frozen, as if back to being sixteen, the same set of butterflies filling his stomach as he watched Dean at his feet moving in sure and steady movements.
Dean stood once he was done, and Castiel noticed how similar in height they were and how, to his astonishment, Dean's skin was even more peppered with freckles. Dean looked back at him, something in his eyes matching Castiel's before his cheeks bloomed into a charming pink, and Dean started rubbing his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Dean stepped back, and Castiel wanted to make him stop, but it seemed his body was still not cooperating.
Dean returned to the other side of the counter, and the more Castiel remained silent, the more unsure Dean looked.
“Hey, Cas…” he said softly, and something in there made it seem like he remembered Castiel. But that shouldn’t be possible, right? Castiel was just another kid in high school, fantasizing like many others about the popular and compassionate newcomer. Harboring a crush that had only grown stronger with the years apart… a feeling that had blossomed into something Castiel was too afraid to name.
“I don’t know if you remember me, but—”
“Dean!” Castiel’s voice came out raw and tinged with disbelief, but it was there, at least.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Dean smiled, all wide and beautiful, showing the cute little dimples Castiel still remembered so vividly. It caused his breath to choke up in his throat. “It’s good to see you.”
“What are you doing here?” Castiel blurted, still too stunned to be anything but blunt.
Dean winced, his smile faltering, and Castiel immediately chastised himself for sounding so caustic.
“I mean,” Castiel leaned closer, hands grasping the edge of the counter as an anchor, and took another shaky breath when Dean’s gaze returned to him, “it’s quite a surprise. I didn’t know you were in town.”
Dean nodded. “I just moved back. Started working at the bar. Today’s my second day, actually.”
“Oh.” Suddenly Charlie’s words made sense. Dean was the new guy she wanted Castiel to meet. If only she knew.
“Ellen needs some potions for her drinks, and when I found out you were working here, I volunteered to come get them so that I could check up on you.”
Castiel didn’t know what to do with that piece of information. Why Dean would want to see Castiel, of all people, was beyond him. Until five minutes ago, Castiel had been certain Dean didn’t even remember him anymore.
“You’re looking good,” Dean said warmly.
Castiel pondered internally how this could be because, despite trying his best at picking an adequate outfit with a simple navy-blue checkered shirt tucked in dark jeans, and a brown tweed vest, he knew his fatigue had taken its toll on his body.
Despite that, Castiel noted pleased that Dean’s voice was still as he remembered, but there was a new deepness and weight to it. It was rougher but so smooth it could only mirror the tender smile that was back on Dean’s face.
Castiel was helpless to even try to think under the intensity of all of that, his thoughts bouncing around in a jumbled mess as he spouted, “You've got more freckles.”
Dean huffed a laugh, and Castiel felt his face heat up instantly, going all the way to the tip of his ears.
“And muscles…” Castiel added, trying and completely failing to salvage the situation. “And everything,” he ended weakly. God, what was he thinking?
Dean's smile widened, the green in his aura rippling with amusement against all the other colors, and Castiel wanted to find a hole to crawl inside and die.
“Sorry, I just—”
“Nah, I get it.” Dean shrugged, the leather jacket straining around his broad shoulders with the movement. And Castiel took in the man in front of him again, in a fit Henley and sleek denim hugging his bowlegs. He looked straight out of a magazine. “I mean, seeing you after all this time is quite the experience as well. I remember the messy hair and your eyes being this unbelievably fucking blue before, but now… the memory was dull compared to reality.” He gulped, and Castiel reflexively ran a hand through his hair. “And all that.” It was Dean’s turn to blush, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink that made Castiel smile.
“So… Ellen?”
“Right!” Dean breathed out, looking very grateful for the change of topic.
Dean pulled out a list and recited his order while Castiel moved around the store to fetch his requests, his brain still in a daze and having to make corrections numerous times when he got the wrong item while stealing furtive glances at the man currently in his shop. They didn’t talk much aside from collecting everything Ellen needed, and soon Castiel was totaling up Dean’s purchases before he said goodbye.
Castiel just stood by the front window that covered the entire front of the shop, still not sure if this hadn’t been a sophisticated hallucination his brain had produced. And just as the rainbow aura disappeared around the corner, Castiel realized his headache was completely gone.