“Cas?” Dean calls, walking through the bunker. He’d thought Cas was in the kitchen, but he isn’t there, and Dean’s more worried than he cares to admit. He walks into the library where Sam is hunched over some stupid-huge book.
“Have you seen Cas?” he asks,
“I heard the front door about ten minutes ago,” Sam replies, smirking, “Why?”
“Because I want to talk to him, Sam.” Dean snaps, jaw tensing; because, ever since the incident at the school in Flint that Dean refuses to talk about, Sam seems to have taken it upon himself to remind Dean of it as often as possible.
“Oh?” Sam says, and Dean’s never seen him looking so smug, “What about?”
“Shut up.” Dean snaps, and turns to leave. He walks along the corridor, trying to control the nerves sluicing through his stomach. He tells himself that Cas wouldn’t just leave, not after everything, not when his grace is burning him out from the inside. He does seem content, but old habits die hard, and Cas has a track record of sudden disappearances.