Cas at the phone booth, wearing dirty jeans and a shirt he found abandoned. Huddled, arms wrapped around himself because its cold and he's human and forgot to find a jacket. Jumping every time a car comes by, losing hope with every minute that passes. Maybe Dean won't come. Maybe dean decided a broken angel wasn't worth it- "Cas." He looks up in time to be enveloped in strong arms and he sags with relief, sobbing and clinging as Dean whispers that's it's okay and that he's got him.