Both sides of the story

It's The Great Pumpkin Sam Winchester (Part 2)

Note: I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY ON THIS CHAPTER!  I'm working on making time into my hectic school schedule to write more.  I felt like this scene made a bigger impact on Cas than Dean, so I decided to make Dean the italics for this chapter, and Castiel the entire text.  I also wanted to try writing in Castiel's voice. Please let me know what you think in the comments! I love feedback :) 

The bench to the left of Dean's was unoccupied, and all the children on the playground were too focused on their play.  It was an adequate place to land, the bench.  And the playground was an adequate place to talk.  

I

did not want others watching, other angels. I enjoyed being alone with Dean.  However, I 

don't

know if he feels the same way.  I can only hope.  Dean turned to me, and this time he was not startled by my arrival.  He almost looked like he was expecting it.  Things were changing between us.  I believe I may be beginning to 

care

about him.  I prayed it was a good thing.  He spoke, "Let me guess, you're here for the 'I told you so?'" "No," I answered. Dean responded quickly, "Well good, because I'm really not that interested." He turned back to the playground, and the children on the swings. 

What

was so entertaining about swings anyway? I fear they would simply be dizzying, not a source of amusement.  "I am not here to judge you Dean," I enjoyed

the 

sound of Dean's name.  "Then why are you here?" Dean asked.  He has many questions.

Angels

do not question.  It is a different experience, being with Dean.  Good different, I

think.

"Our orders--" I began, but Dean cut me off with, "I've had enough of these orders of yours." Dean had no patience.  Not many humans do. It would make sense, however.  Their lifespans are

all

a century or less, especially the ones who call themselves 'hunters'.  

I

tried again, "Our orders," I looked at Dean, pausing momentarily to see if he would interrupt again, "Were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do."  Dean leaned forward with

care,

resting his elbows on his thighs.  He closed and opened his eyes slowly.  I have a tendency to look at them a lot, his eyes.  There is something 

about

them.  Dean does not often share his thoughts aloud, but what he thinks

is

expressed in his eyes, if you look close enough.  And they are nice to look at, very green.  My father did a good job on them.  Dean Winchester is a work of art.  He began talking, and I listened.  "Your orders were to follow my orders?"