He’d been waiting for this moment for months and now it was finally here he was absolutely terrified.
Terrified that he’d see Dean and pass out on the spot.
Terrified that Dean would take one look at him and run in the other direction.
But he knew there was no turning back now. His plane had just touched down in Kansas City International Airport. Cas looked out of his window from the plane to look at the building. Dean was in there somewhere.
The seatbelt signs went off and the air stewards opened the doors. Cas took a deep breath. This was it.
On the walk to collect his luggage Cas’ mind wandered back to where this crazy part of his life began.
Roughly a year earlier, Cas’ older brother, Gabriel, had decided he was sick of Cas moping around. Gabriel knew it was because Cas had just been to another friend’s wedding and yet he remained single (Cas flat out denied that this was the case but Gabriel knew otherwise).
Dean cranks up the stereo, doing his best to drown out the sound of Cas talking. He clenches and unclenches his jaw, feeling the muscle pop as he does, trying to give himself something else to focus on besides the freeway.
His efforts are in vain, and right now there’s just him, Cas, and the open road to Kansas City International.
the tailwind’s on our side (cities and shorelines, passing me by)
“You know, you, uh—” She licked her lips, nervously. “I think you have an anger management problem.” He peered at her over the dog-eared pages of a battered copy of Fatal Purity: Robespierre and the French Revolution. “I do not have an anger management problem.”
“I just saw you beat up a mosquito long after it was dead.”
“That mosquito was the size of my fist. I’m not taking any chances. Besides—” He glanced around the pre-departure area. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
It was true, though. The bugs outnumbered the people ten to one. She was trying really hard not to yawn— or even breathe too deeply.
“I’m Éponine,” she offered, because he was kind of cute.
He smacked her shoulder with the heavy book, and, what the fuck? Before she could, like, punch him or something, he showed her the flattened remains of another mosquito. “Enjolras.”