Things That Should Never Be Counted

Chapter Three

Castiel wiped at his eyes. He hadn't even noticed the tears slipping down his cheeks until the taste of salt dripped onto his taste buds. The film before him had long since stopped rolling but the nostalgic memories of people and places long gone had lingered around. The room was dark. Castiel pushed the button on his watch and the hands illuminated.

4:46pm.

The day had passed by and he had hardly noticed. Charlie and Garth had no doubt already gone home; after all, no one wants to stick around work on New Year's Eve. Castiel picked up the box of film and made his way to the hallway. The door was pulled closed behind him.

The taxi ride home was longer than he would have liked. He kept urging the driver to take alternative routes but his requests went unheard. Castiel wasn't in his house until nearly 6pm.

"Evening, Churchill," he greeted the white ball of fluff as he made his way past the arm chair the animal was sitting in. When Churchill noticed Castiel he jumped off the chair and trailed after him.

"Hungry aren't you?" he raised an eyebrow at the creature who meowed as if to say 'yes'. With a thoughtful nod Castiel entered the kitchen. He went over to the counter and pulled open a drawer. It was full with little cans of wet cat food. After browsing the many cans he decided on one called 'feline feast'. Castiel pulled the metal tab off the can and poured half of it into Churchill's bowl and the other half was stored in the fridge until the morning.

With the cat happily eating, Castiel slipped out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. On the far wall was an old dark wooden door that was rarely opened. Behind the door sat parts and pieces of Castiel's entire timeline. Decades ago, he had realized that living in the past would only result in him living his endless existence in more misery than he needed and so he locked everything away. However, that night was one of the few where Castiel opened up his life and stepped in.

The first thing that greeted him was dust. It didn't surprise him that a thin layer of time blanketed much of the space. Castiel ran a finger across an old oak table and looked at the specks of grey before brushing it away on his jeans. He glanced around and then headed to a silver rack that had a few clothing pieces hanging from it. Castiel ran his fingers through the different pieces until he decided on a certain suit. It was black but ever so slightly worn in certain spots like the left elbow, nothing extremely noticeable. He hadn't worn the suit for nearly five decades. It was saved for special occasions and Castiel decided that his last New Year's Eve party in New York for a long time was worthy enough. A small sad smile curved his lips. The city always had a special piece of his heart and leaving it was like leaving a part of him. Each time he entered the borders of New York City he was left slightly smaller than he had entered. Castiel shook off the thought. Now was not the time to get emotional.

The suit still fit like a glove, a bonus of never aging, he supposed. Before Castiel left his house he noticed Churchill sulking around his dress shoes that were sitting by the front door. He let out a small laugh and knelt down to pet the creature.

"I promise you that you truly have no interest in attending this party," he explained before going to put on his polished pair of oxfords.

"I can't keep Charlie waiting too long. She'll think I ditched her. Anyway, happy new year, Churchill, I won't be out too late." And with that, Castiel was out the door.

The Palace Hotel was always one of the best places to be on New Year's Eve. The crowd wasn't too young nor was it too old. Everyone was friendly enough. It was for the most part a nice environment.

"Jimmy!" a voice called out over the chatter of the crowd. Castiel turned towards the direction of the voice and was not surprised to see Charlie waving at him enthusiastically. He waved back before making his way over to her.