Kansas ~ A Supernatural Memoir

Prologue

It must be bad, because he's smoking. 

The scent is unmistakable. Cas can see his firm silhouette in the darkness, the clear fade of the fiery orange glimmer, slowly inhaling into being, and slowly sighing out of it. Their room is foggy now, because he lit dragon's blood incense to mask his sins from his father. Cas never failed to fall asleep to the smell. 

 From his bed, Cas can hear the gentle groans of Sam, the youngest, fast asleep, his limbs aching from growing so drastically in the past few weeks. The air conditioner hums and rattles in its struggle to cool their bodies, but Cas just couldn't bear to let go of his winter quilt. 

 There's a hiss, and his jaw pushes forward, smoke rolling off his bitten lips. 

 Cas's bare legs slip out from underneath the sheets, his bare feet gently padding along the wooden floorboards to the window, where Dean stands, his candy apple green eyes gazing out at the lonely flat landscape of Kansas. He doesn't turn when he feels a pair of arms wrap around him, comforting and slightly sticky. He doesn't move when he feels that tuft of messy black hair against his back. He doesn't even flinch when the voice of his life-long companion rumbles, "Dean," full of worry and concern. 

 But they stay like that for a long while, and the sun starts to rise, and pink begins to flood their bedroom. The half-smoked cigarette is eventually dropped in a mug with a ring of leftover coffee resting at the bottom. Or maybe it's something else.

Their backs slide down the wall, enjoying the cold floorboards against their overheated and overworked skin when they reach them. Dean tells Cas stories he's already heard before, even as his eyes droop and his words slur and his bowlegs relax. All Cas has to do is smile his gentle smile, and allow Dean to lean against his shoulder. That's all he can do, really. 

 Gravity pulls ash from the incense. 

 And Sam, who is slowly becoming the tallest of the three, crawls out of bed and quickly falls asleep once again on the other side of Cas. Sam has this other-worldly sixth sense that beckons him when something is wrong.

 But Cas is still watching the incense burn, the smoke twirling and disappearing. It makes him just a little bit sad, watching it go, the Winchester brothers sleeping against his shoulders.

 John finds the boys in the morning where they left themselves, having noticed he was one cigarette short again. 

 Out of place in this tranquil oasis, he leaves without a breath, without a whisper.