Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Castiel and Sam spent months searching for Dean when he went missing; when Dean left them with a note that said ‘Let me go, Sammy.’

Maybe for the first couple of months, Castiel looked for Dean, for Dean's sake, but after they find out he turned into a demon and didn’t want anything to do with them Castiel wanted to stop searching. However, Sam did not, so Cas continued. Castiel followed Sam and did his best to take care of the younger Winchester in the absence of the older.

It’s been six months now, Castiel returned to the bunker from a supply run to find a note from Sam that said: ‘I’m sorry, Cas.’

Castiel, heartbroken and angry, automatically tries to find clues as to where Sam went. Although, when two weeks went by and still no lead as to where Sam went Castiel decided to try magic. A tracking spell. The spell was vastly off because of the Enochian wards carved onto Sam's ribs. It helped a lot that the radius was all woods and with some research, there proved to be a cabin out there, rented by a Keith Smith. He really hoped that Sam was hiding out there and not in a tent in the middle of the woods too close to winter.

Castiel was lucky when Sam indeed was living in the cabin. He must have heard Cas’ truck pulling up because he saw Sam running into the woods. Cas threw the truck into park, shut it off, and ran into the woods after Sam.

He could tell Sam wasn’t at his best as he caught up quickly. Sam was already out of breath and his lungs rattling with illness. Castiel tackled him and they rolled around on the cold, hard, leaf-covered ground. “Stop!” Sam wheezed. He turned his head away and kept his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to pretend this wasn’t real, as if Castiel wasn't going to find the boy. “Please, I don’t—I can’t—please, Cas, go away!”

“No!” Castiel growled, pinning the hunter to the ground. “You left me and you think I wasn’t going to look for you? Don’t be stupid, Sam!”

“Stop!”

“You can run where ever you want but I will always find you, I will always go to you.”

“You can’t! You’ll die! I’m cursed! Everyone around me dies or-or runs away, I’m evil!”

“Shut your mouth before I silence you myself. You’re not evil, Sam, nor are you cursed. Now, I am going to carry you back to your cabin and you are going to lay down and I am going to help you recover from that cold and we are going to talk about this.” Sam tried to roll away whimpering. “Or do you want me to heal your cold with my grace and drag you back to the cabin and make us talk all the same? What’s it going to be, Sam? The easy way or the easier way, I am pliable for either.” Castiel gave Sam a moment to think if he wanted to give himself up or fight but after three minutes of no reply, he was getting irritated with the boy. “Sam!” Castiel hissed. “Your answer!”

“Easy!” Sam shouted squirming, he still hadn’t looked at him in the eye.

“You do know I was not joking about carrying you back because I am, Sam. Any objections?”

Sam lay tense but passive. Castiel pulled back and let go of Sam’s bruised wrists. He expected Sam to curl into himself or maybe to fight and jump to his feet and dart back through the trees but Sam just laid there resigned and looking like he lost just about everything, which he sort of did.

Castiel’s chest hurt to see how much pain Sam was in at the moment but he vowed that he was going to take care of Sam no matter how broken he became or how much the boy didn’t want him.

He lifted Sam into his arms with ease and sighed contently to have the Winchester back in arms reach. Sam hid his face into Cas’ neck and his long thinning arms wrapped around his neck and hung limply down his back. He could feel the wetness from Sam’s eyes soaking through his coats and shirt as the boy’s body shook violently from the cold and his strangled sobs. Castiel made his grace heat his vessel up almost to a fever to warm Sam.

“It’s alright, Sam. I’m here,” Cas murmured gently. His arms tightened securely around the thin Winchester. “I won’t leave you. I will forever be here by your side. Allow me to be here with you?” Sam responded in hiccups and sobs and a squeeze of arms around his neck.

By the time Castiel saw the cabin, Sam stopped crying. He laid worn out and silent. Cas suspected Sam to pass out any moment now. He shifted the boy in his arms and opened the door, shutting it with his foot. His eyes flickered to the fireplace, all ready to be lit up like Sam was in the middle of starting it when Cas pulled up.

He laid Sam gently down on the couch as the fire roared to fullness behind him with only a flicker of grace and a command. Sam watched the fire dully, eyes red-rimmed and bruised from too much crying and little sleep. He cupped Sam’s face and turned it and finally! Finally, Sam looked at him in the eyes. Sam’s tired hazel became glassy and salty liquid beaded in the corner of them.

“No more, Sam, no more crying,” he whispered, wiping away the drop the slipped down to trace the tear tracks on his cheeks. Sam closed his eyes and leaned into Cas’ hands. “Rest. You need to rest to fight this cold. I will be here when you wake. I will watch over you, so sleep.”

Sam turned onto his side in a more comfortable position. “Promise, Cas?” he croaked.

“Yes, I promise. Sleep, Sam.” Castiel is relieved that Sam wants him here. At least, for the moment. Too weak from overabundant emotions and sickness to do much else, really, but Cas is happy nonetheless to be needed and wanted.

Sam slipped into sleep as Castiel grabbed the quilt that was thrown over the couch back and draped it over the boy. He sat on the arm of the couch and caressed his head, his fingers tangled in Sam’s dirty hair. He plucked a leaf out and let it fall onto the cabin floor, then another.

Soon he would have to move away and find something for Sam to eat. He needs to help Sam regain the mass he lost from not eating. But for right now Castiel focused on letting Sam sleep with his hand in his hair.