God, Castiel is so fucking miserable.

It was nice to see Jack again. The kid's grown up so much, but he's just as sweet and kind-hearted as he was when he was a toddler. It was comforting to see that growing up with the Hunters didn't change him.

It was nice to hear that Lucifer and Gabriel are okay, too. Castiel didn't even know he was worried about them until he heard it. Lucifer did a damn good job at raising his son, too -- and, knowing the Hunters, he didn't have to do it alone; "it takes a village" indeed. It means a lot that they're still thinking about him -- still talking about him -- even after all these years.

And that is exactly why he's so miserable. It was easy when it was just Dean to pretend that he didn't care, that this was just a reminder of a fucked-up childhood that he's fortunate to have escaped. It's harder to do that when his family is involved. He can't even pretend he hates them. He loves his brother. He loves his nephew. He loved that life, in a weird kind of way. It was far from perfect, but he got to live it with his family.

Was this Dean's plan? He's been somewhat subtle about wanting Castiel to come back to the fold, but it's still so obvious that he does. His grudge has mostly subsided, and now Castiel isn't so much 'the traitor' as he is 'the one that got away.' And they were so close once upon a time. They were practically married in every way except legally; they didn't give much credence to the opinions of the government. Of course Dean is going to try to bring him back any way he can, even if it means guilt-tripping him with thoughts of his family.

But it's weird. Dean still doesn't trust him. He flat-out admitted it. Shouldn't he be a little more wary about inviting a cop back into the fold? He's eager to have him back but wouldn't even let Jack talk about what was bothering him. This doesn't seem particularly well-thought-out.

Then again, it's Dean. When has he ever thought anything out?

After a bit of an existential crisis in the car, Castiel finally makes it home. He's too tired -- physically and emotionally -- to bother getting changed; he goes straight to his bed and flops down. He could really use a good night's sleep...

Wait.

The note.

Castiel reaches into his pocket, and he lets out a sigh of relief when his hand curls around the flooded-up piece of paper. He still has his letter from his brothers. It's all he has of his brothers.

Part of him wants to read it right now, to bask in the warmth of his brothers' words. Part of him thinks he should grab a lighter and let the wind carry the ashes far away from here. He really wants to know what his brothers have to say to him, but what if that's the final straw? What if he decides he misses them too much and goes back? It took months of planning to get out of there the first time. He's not sure he could do it again if he changed his mind.

He tightens his hand around the letter. He has to choose -- preferably sooner rather than later; he'd kind of like to go to sleep soon. The curiosity is eating at him, but is it worth the risk? Is it worth the feelings?

He pulls the paper out with a sigh and sits up. He fiddles with it nervously, trying to make a decision. It really shouldn't be this hard. He only has the two choices: he could read it or he could get rid of it. Why is he struggling so much to make up his mind?

Though he supposes he doesn't have to decide now. You know what they say: never do today what you can put off until tomorrow. (It's him: he's the "they" that says it.) He pulls the note out and gently places it on his bedside table. He can decide tomorrow.

So, with that taken care of, he lies back down and closes his eyes. His hands meet in front of his chest, and he reaches for his ring absentmindedly, twirling it around on his finger. He can't wait to wake up tomorrow with a clear head and figure out what the fuck he's going to do.