Castiel was looking out his bedroom window, thinking about how Dean had called New York City a series of canyons. Getting back into his work routine after over a week on the road bordered on surreal. It was unsettling, the way the daily rhythm of waking early, driving, and hiking clashed with his short commute to work and long hours in the office. It was as though he had been on a different planet, in a different dimension, and now returned back to his own Earth.

Charlie had made him promise to hang out and tell her about the trip that night. She'd also tried to get Kevin to come, but a new episode of the Generation Why podcast was out, so he had declined the invitation. Castiel didn't mind; they could catch up later in the week. He finished changing and started over to her building, grateful for the opportunity to walk. Moving along the sidewalks, he was hyper-aware of the dull roar of the city—the resonating hum of thousands of vehicles running between endless blocks of Manhattan—the smell of concrete, the sharp punctuations of car horns, brakes, and flapping pigeon wings. It was the soundtrack of his existence, had always been, but after a week of open vistas and soft birdsong, the city felt like an echo chamber. He looked up at the narrow corridor of blue-gray sky. Before, he had known what the sky was only in theory.

Charlie met him with a smile at her door, proclaiming, "Well met, traveler! Back from the far reaches of yon Mountains of the Rocks…"

"Hi, Charlie. I'd say it's good to be back, but I'm not so certain yet."

"Eh, it's only Monday," she replied with a tilt of her head, stepping back to let him enter the apartment. "Guessing it will take you a while to get back into the swing of things… or are you sad to be leaving Dean?" She waggled her eyebrows as she closed the door.

Castiel sighed in exasperation and started walking toward the living room area.

"Oo, I hit a sore spot, I guess…" She stepped in beside him, gently bumping her shoulder against his. "I don't mean to pry.. Okay, no, I do mean to pry. Spill. You guys still friends, or…?"

"Of course." He paused, not sure how much he wanted to reveal to her. Charlie was one of his best friends, but she also was, for lack of a better term, a meddler. She and Gabriel had that in common. The instant he so much as had a cup of coffee with someone, they both became relentless. The fact that they had discovered his crush on Dean was bad enough; he didn't want to add fuel to the fire.

"…But not more than friends?"

Castiel kept his eyes on the far wall. "No."

"Okay…" She sounded anything but convinced, but she didn't press him further.

They decided on Thai delivery and got their order sent in, then settled onto the couch, where Castiel began describing stops on their trip. It was more difficult than he thought it would be—the pictures on his phone seemed tiny, inadequate, and he couldn't find words large enough. He ended up surrendering his phone to her so she could flip through the photos. She did so with concentrated intensity, occasionally making an impressed noise or showing him one she thought was particularly good.

"These are incredible…"

Castiel thought of the way he had looked at pictures of the Rockies before last week, believing he was prepared for the reality of them. "It was an exceptional vacation."

"So… Think you might be up for another trip this year?"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm going to try to hold Dean to going to the Minnesota Renaissance Festival in October. Have a feeling he'd be more likely to go if you were coming too…" She fixed him with a hopeful look.

"How long?"

"Oh, I dunno, maybe just a long weekend. I have a big LARP week in the spring, so don't need to go too crazy. We could do one of their theme weekends."

"I'll think about it." Privately, Castiel knew he would have trouble resisting an opportunity to spend more time with Dean, but he was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea.

Charlie paused, examining him. "Okay… You've got something going on, just, like… here." She waved a hand over her own face. "I know you don't like being bugged over and over about stuff, but seriously, I'm here if you want to talk about it."

Castiel reconsidered. If he was going to talk about the situation with Dean to anyone, it would be Charlie. Gabriel had already made his misgivings clear last year and wouldn't have anything positive to add, and there really wasn't anyone else he trusted with that sort of personal information. He tried to decide where to start. "…I hugged him."

Charlie's eyes grew wide. "Whoa, even I don't get to hug you that often. Did he just, like, spring it on you, and you felt like you couldn't say 'no' without making it weird…? Although I'm kinda surprised Dean went in for a hug; he didn't really seem like a hugger."

"No, I hugged him," Castiel corrected, "and he was the surprised one."

"Oh." Charlie gave him a confused look, then gazed up at the ceiling, processing. "Okay… so, what, you're feeling awkward about it? If he was weirded out, he's already over it, I'm sure. You're probably worrying for nothing." She waved a hand, dismissing it.

Castiel took a breath before trying again to help Charlie to understand. "No, it's not that it was awkward… although I suppose it might have been for him, if he is indeed not a hugger. No, it's more that… I hugged him because I wanted to touch him. I have been wanting to, since June, and that is… very strange for me."

"Oh. So you've been wanting to touch him in, like… a romantic way?"

He nodded. "Exactly."

"So…" Charlie's face jumped from thoughtful, to approving, to confused again. "…What's the deal? Why are you stewing over it?"

"I—I purposely did it in the context of saying goodbye at the airport so it wouldn't be construed as what it was. It felt—feels… deceptive. I suppose I had hoped that I would hug him and, I don't know, be satisfied with it? Stop thinking about it? But instead it feels as though I've fallen further down the path of unrequited attraction."

The sympathetic look that she had adopted dropped abruptly from her face. "Uh… hold up, Novak. I saw Dean and you together back in June. That attraction is very requited."

Castiel shook his head. "Even if that were true—"

"—Which it is.—"

"—there are too many factors that would make it a bad idea, Charlie."

"Oh, come on—"

"For starters, there's the problem of him being bisexual and me being asexual. Even if we somehow managed to negotiate something that worked for both of us, which in my experience has proved highly unlikely, there's the fact that he lives in Kansas. And I could never ask him to move to a city—he wouldn't be happy here—and I, well, there's the company, and—"

"—Castiel."

Charlie's use of his given name stopped the anxieties spilling over his lips. She always pronounced it as his own family did, with a slight, extra emphasis on the '-el'.

She gave him a look of understanding. "I get it. Relationships are scary, and not just for aces. But even if you're the same orientation, live in the same city, check all the boxes on the imaginary list… things still don't just magically work out. Sometimes, you have to take chances."

Castiel frowned, looked down at the soft pink fabric of the couch cushions. Charlie didn't know all the details of his past relationships—they were before her time—but in a few instances, when younger, he'd found himself pressured to do things he wasn't completely comfortable with in the name of maintaining a relationship. Gabriel at least suspected some of that, which was perhaps why he had felt it necessary to warn Castiel off Dean… Castiel was older and more sure of himself now. He didn't want to end up in that sort of situation again. But he liked Dean, and the more that attraction grew, the more it seemed as though it could make him susceptible to repeating those mistakes.

"Just think about it, okay? I feel like you and Dean really get one another, and that sort of thing doesn't come along all that often…" Charlie gave a shrug. "Like, look at me. Utterly fabulous, and yet, utterly single." She sighed and dramatically looked into the distance.

"I thought your plan was to remain the lovable rogue with a woman in every village," he reminded her, quoting from a speech she had given him in a previous conversation about dating.

"Yeah, well… It might be nice to have a special lady someday, somewhere…" Her gaze turned tender for a moment, then she blinked and raised her eyebrows. "Oh no." She shook her head. "Is this what getting old feels like?"

Castiel stared at her stoically. "Charlie, may I remind you that you are over a decade the younger. There is no sympathy for you here."

"Yeah, well, you were born old, Novak. Just, like, popped out in a suit and trench coat like Boss Baby and started analyzing Steinbeck novels. Some of us are forced to grow into it."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

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Weeks passed, and while the daily sensation of wrongness about his schedule eventually faded, the city continued feeling smaller than he remembered, its streets narrower, the walls closer. He never used to dream often, but multiple times, he found himself waking from a vision of looking out across a snow capped mountain range or staring up at a blue dome of sky.

His mind fixed on Dean repeatedly without being any closer to resolution. He thought about the car radio turned down low for an entire week, the way he would often turn from the landscape to find Dean watching his face, the moments on Windlass Hill and in Dean's own backyard where their eye contact had stretched and Castiel felt certain they were on the cusp of something. He knew that Charlie was correct; the term 'unrequited' did not apply to his situation. Why else would he have so carefully planned the hug in that last moment? It was easier to pretend this all was one sided because it was easier to ignore his own feelings than it was to push aside Dean's without consideration.

Unfortunately, all that reflection revealed another deception he had perpetrated. When Dean asked him to accept that he might never be ready to discuss certain events in his past, Castiel had agreed… but it was a lie. Castiel spent every day of his life refining raw manuscripts into completed stories, seeing patterns in chaos and matching like pieces together until a final image was revealed. It wasn't a job selected by chance. Since he had received his first detention at age eleven for skipping class to solve a puzzle cube, it had been clear that the one thing he was unable to do was to leave a mystery unsolved. He thought he could back off, try to respect Dean's boundaries… but true acceptance was likely impossible. There would always be a part of him collecting data, trying to complete the picture. He wasn't certain if that was problematic.

Whenever he and Dean spoke on the phone, all his reservations seemed to sail out the window. Castiel called Dean the evening North Aspect's glorious ten-week run on the bestseller's list ended, congratulating him on the accomplishment. He ended up listening to Dean cook dinner for himself and Sam, allowing the other man to narrate the mundane details of chopping and seasoning as though it were a radio cooking show.

They chatted off and on about how Dean's fall season was shaping up. A few pre-registrations for his youth gun safety course in August were cancelled. Even though officially no one complained, Dean was certain it was due to public knowledge of his sexual orientation. Castiel felt helpless. He ended up quoting statistics from a recent Human Rights Campaign publication that named Lawrence as the most LGBTQ-inclusive city in Kansas—and Olathe, where Dean had chosen to live, as one of the least. Whether it came off as encouraging or discouraging was anyone's guess.

When the time for the course came, Dean called that evening with an update that his class included a nonbinary student named Remy. "They said their mom didn't even want to let them sign up until they showed her my video from last fall," he explained. "Guess she was worried about them having a bad experience…"

Castiel didn't need Dean to explain how much hearing that meant to him, how much it went toward healing some of the other wounds. "Good things do happen, Dean."

"...Yeah, they do," Dean replied, voice gruffer than usual.

The rhythm of their conversations shifted a week later, becoming more halting, with significant pauses littering Dean's side of it. Castiel finally worked up the courage to make another foray into Dean's personal life.

"Dean, you seem…" Without the benefit of being able to check Dean's eyes, he was probing blindly. He took a breath, readying himself for Dean to lock up again, or maybe even hang up on him. "Is something the matter?"

The silence went on for a beat longer than Castiel could stand before Dean rasped, "…Sam's found a place in Kansas City. We're moving his stuff out there in a couple of weeks."

Castiel selfishly felt grateful that it wasn't a problem between the two of them before it registered that Sam moving out meant Dean would find himself living alone again.

"I mean, it isn't like I didn't live plenty by myself before last year," Dean blurted, pushing words into the space where Castiel should have replied, echoing Castiel's track of thought. "I just—" He stopped, leaving dead air on the line.

"I understand," Castiel insisted, letting Dean know that he need not explain further. Castiel knew the ache of emptiness where there used to be presence, of silence where there was once conversation. In fact, he found himself thinking quite often about how contained and quiet his life must have been before there were texts and phone calls from an author in Kansas to fill his days. Words to comfort Dean weren't coming to mind; his arms had impulses that were completely impractical given their locations. Hearing that now familiar voice reaching out for connection from states away… it made Castiel want to hop on the next train west. "Maybe I could come visit this winter."

Dean let out a bark of laughter. "Kansas in the winter ain't for the faint of heart, Cas. I'll manage until spring."

It was, Castiel thought, false bravado. "I don't know, it might be good for me to start building up a tolerance…"

Dean's slightly flustered reply made Castiel smile, and he was glad Dean could not see his face as he continued to expand logically upon the scenarios where cold tolerance would be beneficial.

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"...Charlie's got this new hashtag, 'out in the parks'. Out, like, you know… out."

Castiel could picture the exact wave of the hand Dean was giving as he spoke. There was noise in the background as Dean walked around what Castiel assumed was his house. The amount and type of motion Dean was in was often a better barometer of his mood than anything. Today, it all told Castiel that Dean was trying to keep himself busy. Given that Sam had moved out that past weekend, it wasn't surprising.

"Anyway, I guess there's some big stuff going on with New York City organizations next year and National Park Service and Stonewall National Monument… She's trying to see if she can get them to pick up the hashtag too. But she says October and National Coming Out Day would be a good time to start using it."

"Ah, yes, she was going on about the LGBTQ Heritage Initiative last week… You know, Little Bighorn in Montana is on their list."

"What, seriously?"

"Yes, as part of teaching the history of Indigenous Two Spirit people."

"Huh… Will have to keep an eye on the weather, see if I can get up there. Might be covered in snow by then. Maybe I should see what else is out in this stretch of the country. Is there, like, a website I could go to…?"

"I will send you the link." He listened as Dean spent a few more minutes talking about his plans for the fall. His guide season wouldn't really wind down until late November. "Did Charlie ask you about Minnesota…?" he asked, when there was a convenient break.

"Yeah… I mean, technically, I don't have anything booked yet that weekend. Crane migration doesn't really kick in until later in the month. …Do you think you'll go?"

"Yes, although I am still attempting to convince Kevin. I don't suppose you could convince Sam to come?" Castiel grimaced; he hadn't meant to remind Dean about Sam. It had just occurred to him that Kevin and Sam seemed to get along fairly well and might enjoy meeting.

Dean snorted. "Better chance of getting the Pope there." The motion in the background paused. "Sure is quiet around here with him off to Kansas City. But it's for the best. I mean, can't expect the kid to keep commuting forever and living with his older brother, right? Sam's a city slicker at heart."

"I used to think I was as well…" Castiel sighed. "I always knew the city was loud, but it seems so much less tolerable now that I've experienced the alternative. The Great Plains have ruined me."

"Well, let's see if I can turn you back to the Dark Side… Sam's top bitch list about country living… Local food options are good Americana, not-bad barbecue, okay Chinese, okay Mexican, or okay Thai. All the shopping is at least a half hour away. The internet outages are real, like weeks possibly if there are a lot of lines down. Farmboys think it's funny to beep at him when he's jogging… I told him the country boys here just never seen a running moose before, but he didn't seem to think that was a good reason…" Dean started laughing to himself, and his voice muffled slightly.

Castiel remembered how he had looked that evening when they ate dinner at his house, mirthful to the point of tears. "…If the Thai food is only 'okay', I suppose that could be problematic. Although for all I know, the Thai food here is the same level of 'okay'. Who in the United States really knows what Thai cuisine is supposed to taste like?"

Dean began laughing harder. "Only you, Cas… Only you could turn takeout into a critical thinking exercise."

"I turn everything into a critical thinking exercise," he quipped. Charlie would have said it was funny because it was true. He'd never been certain if it was a skill or a curse.

"You and me both, buddy… Except food. For some reason, I am exempt on that count."

"How nice for you." Castiel feigned annoyance, making Dean snort again. Dean did love food… and cooking. Castiel had listened to him cook dinner so many times that he felt he was owed a meal. He almost told Dean that, pushed just that bit past his comfort zone, closer to the territory of flirting… but suddenly, the fact that Sam had just moved out and Dean was probably feeling lonely made it seem too contrived, as though he might be taking advantage of a moment of vulnerability. Instead, he cleared his throat and solemnly said, "Dean, if you need anything… or just want to hear another voice, please call. Any time. And I mean that."

There wasn't any segue, and it took Dean a moment to rein in his laughter. "Yeah… okay. Thanks, Cas."

After they closed the line, Castiel spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about the moment Dean had been sitting on his couch in flannel pajamas, then tried to reverse the situation by placing himself in Dean's small living room. He didn't own any flannel pajamas. If he was seriously considering visiting Kansas in the winter, maybe he should order a few sets. Never mind that he hadn't actually gotten Dean to agree to a visit yet; he was certain the issue would come up again eventually.

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When communication stopped, it did so abruptly. Castiel had caught a horrendous cold, which he was nursing with green tea and hot-and-sour soup on his couch, so it took him a few days to realize that he still hadn't received any reply to a text he sent asking if Dean had heard about the new release, An Excess Male. On day three, Castiel left a voicemail, just to touch base. By day four, when he discovered neither Charlie or Kevin had heard from Dean either, Castiel's concern spiked up into true anxiety. That night, when his phone rang with a strange number, it took him a moment to answer, fingers shaking.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Castiel? This is Sam. Winchester."

"Sam." Castiel felt as though he couldn't breathe; the reasons Sam Winchester might call him instead of Dean all were terrible.

"Hey. I just wanted to let you know that Dean went off to Glacier National Park for a bit, which is why you haven't heard from him. Cell coverage is really spotty up there."

Castiel gasped, and it turned into a brief coughing fit. "Thank you," he wheezed after it had passed. "I was beginning to worry."

"Yeah, Kevin sent me a text today asking if he'd been in touch."

Castiel tried again to clear his throat, having more questions than answers. "He never said he was going to be traveling."

"I got a text three days ago telling me he was going to Glacier and would be out of touch. And that's it. I left him a few texts and a pretty annoyed voicemail today, but I haven't heard back. He must be up on the trails." There was a beat of silence before Sam continued. "…He does this sometimes. Our mom calls it 'pulling a wayward son' because, you know, the song…"

Castiel could only vaguely place the song; he'd have to look it up. "…Goes to Glacier on short notice?" he asked Sam.

"Uh… Not just Glacier, just… Listen, Dean… isn't the best at talking things out. So, something happens, like, something with emotions, and he just… gets himself some space. Literally."

Something with emotions? "Nothing seemed amiss when I spoke to him earlier in the week."

"Oh. Well, that's good… I was worried that something had happened… between the two of you."

"N—no. I don't know what it could be." Castiel's throat felt scratchy, and he turned his head to let out a few more coughs.

Sam sighed. "Okay, well… Try not to worry too much. He's an experienced hiker, and I'm sure he at least told the park rangers his plans… He'll be back in touch when he figures out whatever he's dealing with."

"Thank you for calling, Sam."

"No problem. You take care… That cold sounds terrible."

Castiel lay on the couch after ending the call, trying to guess what could have happened that would have caused Dean to drop everything, including at least one guide job Castiel knew he had booked for the week. He couldn't come up with anything. Whatever it was, it floated in the blank space that was populated with all the other things Dean couldn't tell him.