Schizo||Destiel||#Wattys2017||

Prologue: Astro

When Cas first laid eyes on Dean, he was a small boy of only four years old. The last time he ever saw him, was when he was a grown man of 40. Forty-something. Cas lost count. He spent all of his life looking after that green-eye'd mess. After a while, birthdays didn't matter. 36 years they spent. 36 years, the two never let each other out of their sights. 36 years of just endless love, and maybe a couple of other things. Those years began on June 25th, 1983, the day that Cas had bumped into a boy on the playground, but refused to let him carry on until he agreed to play with the lonely boy, and ended with November 11th, 2019 the day that Dean died.

This is the story of everything in between.

--1--

When Cas saw the boy move in across the street, he was the slightest bit intimidated. Their houses were almost exactly the same—a two story mansion with a pretty lengthy yard—but the house across the street had a basement, something that Cas admired. Sometimes, his older brother, Lucifer would take him inside that house to play. Lucifer often gets bored of the same old home, and same old toys, Cas found out. Though Michael, his other older brother, warned the two that it was ill-advised, Lucifer would never stop, and neither would Cas. Needless to say, when that mysterious boy moved in across the street, Cas was the epitome of unhappy. He lost his play place.

"Hey, Cas, you wanna go say hi to our new neighbors?" His mom called to the four-year old. No way. Nuh-uh. They might be mean. Nope.

"Sure," he quietly whimpers. She picked him up and carried him through the house, making almost no noise. She pats Lucifer's head, who is pouting like Cas. None of them are happy about the neighbors, but that doesn't really matter.

Before Cas could say anything to his older brother, his mother carried him outside and shut the door behind her. She ran across the street to greet them. They were still unpacking.

Cas turned a head at the small child in the the woman's hands. It couldn't have been more than four months old, and Cas wondered if that child would remember any part of the time that he first met Cas. Would he just always be there for that small boy? Would he be that one person that that boy cannot imagine, or remember life without?

"Oh my gosh, he's so cute," Cas's mother said in a sing-songy voice. She set Cas down, smiling at the woman. "I am Holly, and this is my youngest son, Castiel," she smiled "We decided to come out and meet our new neighbors."

"Hi, Holly," the woman chuckled as Castiel picked up a leaf. "Hi, Castiel. This is Sam. I'm Mary."

Castiel waved, not taking his blue eyes off the leaf. It's intricate detail, it's variation of color to all of the different leaf. Why did Cas pick up that leaf.

That leaf was his leaf.

Cas kept that leaf. It was a big oak leaf, from that big oak tree that grew in the yard of his play place. The leaf was his. The house was his, no matter who occupied it.

"Cas, honey, don't be shy." His mother picked up the small boy, wrinkling his blue tee shirt. He simply shook his head, looking away from the women. "Sorry about him. He doesn't take kindly to strangers."

"Oh, no, my oldest is the same way. 'Bout the same age, too." Mary glanced back at her door. "Dean's probably breaking into the peanut butter by now. I should probably make sure he doesn't get his dirty  little mitts over all the food. I'll see you around, Holly."

"You, too, Mary."

-

That night, Cas slept on his soft, warm bunk in the corner. He liked his bottom bunk. It was cozy, and private, and it had a curtain. Plus, it was less of an inconvenience to bring his leaf. Cas fell in love with his leaf. His leaf was what he had left of that house's pretty basement full of new, unused toys. His leaf let him know that he'd always be welcome there. So, late that night, after everyone's gone to bed, Cas quietly cuddled his leaf until he finally falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.