It's well past sunset when Castiel finally hears a voice he recognizes. How Dean found him, he doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. He doesn't want to talk to anyone, so he runs in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Cas, wait up!" Dean calls after him, but he doesn't. Dean catches up to him easily, though. "Cas, what are you doing out here?"

Castiel ignores him.

"You're not even in Sioux Falls anymore," Dean adds.

Castiel doesn't respond. He was vaguely aware he had crossed city lines, but he just thought it meant he wouldn't be found. Apparently, he was wrong.

"Cas, talk to me," Dean pleads.

"What are you doing here?" Castiel asks finally.

"Looking for you," Dean replies. "Gabriel called and said you were missing, so Sam and I started looking, too."

Castiel sighs. Great. Just great.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asks.

"Well, I was trying to be alone," Castiel replies. "Clearly, that didn't work."

"You came all the way out here, without a jacket or a phone or money or anything, to be alone," Dean repeats. "Why did that ever sound like a good idea to you?"

"Because I'm not allowed to be alone anymore," Castiel replies, rolling his eyes.

"What? Seriously?"

"Yep. Dad's rules."

"That's stupid," Dean replies.

"Tell me about it," Castiel mutters.

"Here, how about I take you to my place, and we can be alone together?" Dean suggests. Before Castiel can protests, he adds, "It's as close to alone as you're gonna get, so you might as well take it."

Castiel hesitates, then says, "I guess..."

Dean grins. "Great! Come on."

Dean leads him back to the junkyard he lives at. He tries to get Castiel to talk throughout the walk, but Castiel never says more than a few words at once.

"I'm going to call Gabriel," Dean announces. "So he knows I found you."

"No," Castiel says quickly. "If they know where I am, they're going to come pick me up, and I don't want to go home."

"They're freaking out about you," Dean says. "They should at least know you're okay."

"No," Castiel repeats. "If you don't want me here, I'll leave, but I'm not going home. Not yet."

"You're always welcome here," Dean assures him. "How about I just tell Sam that I found you? I won't tell them where you are but that they can all stop looking?"

Castiel hesitates, then nods. "Alright."

Dean pulls out his phone and sends a quick text. "There. Okay, so now that you're stuck here with me, what do you want to do? Board games? YouTube? Talk?"

"Depends," Castiel replies. "Do you have Sorry!?"

~~

Long story short, Castiel is way better at Sorry! than Dean. There's a lot of swearing involved, and it ends with a very satisfied Castiel holding up the front of the box of the game, a slight smirk on his face.

"Sorry."

"I think you cheated!" Dean announces.

"How did I cheat?" Castiel asks.

"I don't know, but you did."

Castiel laughs, earning a smile from Dean.

"I don't think I've ever seen you laugh before," Dean observes.

"That's probably true," Castiel agrees.

"Huh." Dean glances at the clock. "It's getting late. Do you want to go home now?"

"I'd rather not," Castiel tells him.

"Do you want to stay here for the night?" Dean offers.

"Can — Can I do that?" Castiel asks, amazed by the concept.

"Yeah, it's called a sleepover," Dean replies with a laugh. "What, don't tell me you've never been to a sleepover." Reading his expression, Dean says in surprise, "You've never been to a sleepover? Not even when you were little?"

Castiel shakes his head. "No. I don't have anyone to sleep over with."

"Oh. Well then. Looks like we have to change that." Dean gives him a smile.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Castiel asks cautiously.

Dean shrugs. "Why not?"

"Because I'm... Me."

"Exactly! And I like you. Nothing complicated about it."

"Oh," is all Castiel says.

"I'm assuming you don't want anyone to bring you pajamas," Dean guesses.

"You're correct," Castiel confirms.

"You want to borrow some of mine?" Dean offers. "We're basically the same size."

"Thanks."

Dean leads Castiel to his room and shuts the door behind them before walking over to his dresser. He digs through his messy drawers and pulls out two t-shirts and two pairs of plaid sweatpants. He tosses one of each to Castiel.

"They should fit," Dean says.

"Thanks," Castiel mutters. "Where's the bathroom?"

He rolls his eyes. "We're both guys here," Dean reminds him.

"I know, I just..."

"Okay, Cas, let's learn proper sleepover etiquette," Dean says. "You suck it up. Capiche?"

Castiel nods. "I capiche," he replies. "Can we at least face different ways?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Fine."

Dean turns around, and Castiel feels a wave of relief. He turns around as well, quickly pulling his pants off to put on Dean's. They're a little bit in him, but Dean's taller and more muscular than he is, so it's no surprise. Castiel gently removes his shirt, reaching for the new one.

"Oh my god..." Dean mutters under his breath.

"What?" Castiel asks, confused.

"Your back."

Castiel turns around to face the other boy. "You said you wouldn't look."

"I lied," Dean replies. "I do that." Seeing Castiel's expression, he adds defensively, "What? You made such a big deal out of it. I wanted to know why. Sue me. Seriously, though, what the hell? Your back somehow looks worse now than it did last time. The hell is up with that?"

Castiel puts a hand to his bruises self consciously. "Nothing."

"Again I say, as I seem to do a lot with you, that's not nothing. What happened?"

"Nothing," Castiel repeats. "It's nothing."

He reaches for the shirt he's borrowing from Dean, but Dean grabs it first, and Castiel is left standing around shirtless. He crosses his arms over his bare chest self consciously.

"Cas, seriously man, what the hell?" Dean asks.

Castiel reaches for his shirt back, but Dean yanks it away before Castiel can reach it.

"Dean —"

"What happened to you, Cas?" Dean asks again.

"Nothing," Castiel repeats. "Give me the shirt back."

"Not until you tell me what happened to your back," Dean replies stubbornly.

Castiel sighs. "Fine. I get shoved into things a lot." He reaches for the shirt, and this time, he manages to get it, and he quickly slides it in over his head.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, confused.

"Nothing," Castiel mutters.

"Cas..."

"Look, Dean, no offense, but I really don't want to talk about my feelings or my past right now, especially with you," Castiel snaps. "Just drop it."

"Why especially not with me?" Dean asks.

"Forget I said anything," Castiel mutters, his sudden burst of confidence gone.

"Seriously, Cas," Dean says. "Why especially with me?"

"If you're going to keep pushing for a therapy session, I'm just gonna leave," Castiel tells him.

"Alright, I get it," Dean replies. "No chick flick moments. But I'm not letting you leave, cuz then you'll disappear forever and we'll never see you again, and that won't be fun for any of us."

"Um... Thanks?"

Dean chuckles at his confusion. "Well, I'm exhausted. Time to hit the sack?"

"Is that an AC/DC reference?" Castiel asks.

"It was not, but it is now," Dean replies. "What I meant was, I'm going to sleep. You take bed, I'll take floor."

"I can —"

"I'm not the one with the purple back and the hole in my chest," Dean reminds him. "I can take the floor."

"Thanks," Castiel says, knowing there's no point in arguing.

Dean turns off the lift before grabbing a pillow and lying down on the floor. Castiel hesitantly climbs into bed.

"'Night, Cas," Dean says softly.

"'Night."