Chapter Text
“Again! Again!”
“Okay, okay. One last time: Once upon a time, there was a young prince who was considered to be the most beautiful and powerful of the land. He was kind hearted, intelligent, and loved by all his subjects. He was said to have powerful magic that he used to help. One day, he was approached by a strange man, demanding that he use these powers and his beauty to make him greater than all others. The prince refused and because of this was kidnapped by a great and terrible beast, and locked away in a dark castle hidden deep within the dark forest. There he waits for a brave knight to come and rescue him from his terrible fate and slay the beast that has held him captive for all these years."
"Wow," a small child breathed, looking up at his father with amazement in his eyes, "You mean he's hidden here in this forest now?"
His father nodded, running his fingers through the boy's blonde hair affectionately.
"That's what the stories say," he confirmed.
"And no one has been able to save him?" He asked, horrified, turning to look at the man who sat next to him.
"Nope," the second man replied gruffly, scratching his beard thoughtfully, "He's still there, just waiting for some poor soul to come and try."
"Daddy," the boy asked hesitantly, looking up, "What is the terrible beast that took him?"
His dad shrugged his shoulders, "No one knows. Although, it's a fair guess that the beast is a dragon."
The boy gasped, "But, you always said those are really dangerous!"
His dad nodded, "That they are. Which is why you should never go out seeking one."
"But you killed one," the boy said definitively, turning to their riding companion, looking for confirmation.
The companion nodded his head, "That he did."
The boy's eyes lit up and announced, "I bet you could save the lost prince, daddy. There's no one stronger and braver than you in the whole world!"
The two adults chuckled at the boy's claims, his dad, ruffling his hair again, "Perhaps. However, I think I have my hands full with the two princes I have now. What would I do with a third?"
The boy shrugged, “I dunno...” his sentence trailing off as his father’s attentions were pulled away from their conversation and turned to the door of the carriage as it pulled to a stop and a man leaned in through the now open door.
"Pardon me, your Highness," he spoke, adjusting his armor nervously, "It appears there's something ahead on the road..."
"Let's take a look," the King said, turning back to his son as he left the carriage, "It's getting late, Dean. I want you to lie down. It's much past your bedtime."
"But dad," Dean whined, "I wanna hear more stories about the Lost Prince!"
John chuckled and shook his head, "That's enough stories for the night. You be good for Sir Robert. I'll come back when the issue has been resolved."
Dean sighed in defeat, "Okay."
He waited until his dad left before turning to Sir Robert and saying hopefully, "I don't really feel all that tired, Bobby. Will you tell me another story?"
Bobby laughed, "Nice try kiddo. But the King's orders were pretty clear."
Dean frowned, grumbling to himself as he lay down on the seats across from Bobby, curling up beneath a blanket.
The carriage door opened a second time, John’s head leaning in, “Bobby, I need ya for a moment. Mind coming out to take a look at this?”
Bobby nodded turning back to Dean, “Be right back, bud.”
"Bobby?" Dean asked, sitting straight up, and looking out with wide eyes in the direction his dad had left. He paused before asking timidly, "Are we safe?"
Bobby was silent for a moment, looking out the window of their carriage. It was a fair question. They were traveling through the dark forest, a place rumored to be full of terrible magic and frightening beasts. They were riding in a caravan, on their way home from visiting another country. Although Bobby had strongly recommended they take the longer part around the forest, King John insisted they ride through, wanting to get home to his youngest son, Sam, as soon as he could.
Bobby looked over at Dean who was anxiously waiting for an answer, "Don't forget who’s here with you. You're dad and I will always be there to protect you. You got it?"
Dean nodded satisfied, closing his eyes and breathing in contempt.
It felt like seconds later when he was shaken awake by the movement of the rocking carriage. Dean yelped out, falling to the floor, tangled up in his blanket. He looked around, finding himself alone.
"Bobby?" He called out hesitantly, remembering that Bobby said he’d come back.
"Daddy?" He tried again, looking around cautiously.
The cabin filled with silence, leaving Dean feeling uneasy. He sat on the floor, wondering what he should do. Should he wait for someone to come back to him? Or go out and find his dad? He wasn't supposed to be left alone.
Something hit the side of the cabin, and Dean jumped back, clutching his blanket tighter, screaming in fear. He took several deep breaths, his eyes tightly shut.
"Be brave," he muttered to himself, “You’re not afraid.”
His dad always told him that a prince should be brave. Princes weren’t scared on anything!
He opened one eye, peeking around before deciding that he couldn’t wait here in the cabin alone. He needed to find his dad. Or Bobby. He would know what Dean needed to do.
Dean opened the cabin door, peeking out shyly to look around. He didn’t see anyone close by, so he jumped down and raced to the other side. There was chaos everywhere Dean looked. His father’s knights were fighting against dark clothed bandits, swords clanking against the other.
Dean trailed their movements, looking around to try and spot someone he knew.
“Hey there, baby boy. Why don’t you come along with me.”
Dean looked up at a tall man, hunched over Dean, a sneer on his face. His dad warned him that there were some not nice people in the world, and he had a feeling this was one of those.
“No!” Dean shouted, kicking the man’s shins, causing him to call out in surprise.
He lept forward, away from the unsuspecting man, weaving in and out of the battlefield before him.
Men were fighting all around him and Dean had a feeling that the creepy man was following behind him. He didn't stop to look back, he just knew that he needed to get out of there.
He tried to spot his dad or Bobby, or anyone else that he knew, but the forest was consumed in chaos. At this rate, he knew he would never have any luck in finding them. He heard someone call out behind him and yelped, jumping out of the way before a man fell to the ground. Dean paused, staring into the lifeless eyes next to him in horror. He noticed the emblem on the man's chest signified he was a member of the royal army.
His dad's army.
He scrambled to his feet, bolting in the opposite direction of the fighting.
He had to get out of there, he had to find somewhere safe. Even though a member of his dad's guard had died, that didn't mean that his dad was gone. He was the best fighter in the whole world! Out of everyone, he would definitely be the one to survive. And he would come find him.
Dean weaved in and out of the trees, the loud sounds of the clanking swords and shouting men disappearing into the background behind him. He ran until his legs burned so bad he didn't think he could run anymore. He clung to a nearby tree, gasping for breath.
The silence surrounding him was eerie. The trees were darker and thicker than the area he had escaped from and he felt a strange sense of discontent and began to feel fear creeping into his chest. He turned around, looking around the area, trying to figure out which direction he had come from. He really didn't know. He decided he should keep moving, not knowing what kinds of animals lived in the forest and thinking he should find a landmark so his dad could find him easier.
He pushed forward, climbing over broken sticks and fallen trunks, cringing each time his light footsteps crunched loudly against the fallen leaves on the ground, echoing in the stillness. He bravely pushed through the mist of the forest, hoping he'd find somewhere he could stop soon.
He perked up when he heard a couple of voices somewhere off in the distance, but froze as soon as their words became clear.
"Are you sure he came in this direction?"
"I'm sure. Stop questioning me and just find the brat."
"Why are we bothering anyway?"
"Because he's the prince! Can you imagine the ransom the King will pay to get his precious baby boy back?"
Chills ran down Dean's spine. He recognized one of the voices as the creepy man who had approached him earlier.
His heart dropped, realizing they had followed him all the way out here. He had to keep moving! He had to get away! He couldn't let them capture him, and keep him prisoner!
Dean ran forward, not caring he was leaving a trail of sounds behind him, pushing through his panic when he heard one of the men yell, "I hear him! This way!"
He went deeper and deeper into the woods, his heart racing as he approached a black, ornate gate. He sped through the opening, not pausing for a moment to think more about it. The voices were right behind him.
"I see him!" One man yelled, "He went through the gate!"
"Should we follow him?" the other man replied nervously.
"Don't be a pansy. The gold's as good as ours now."
Dean raced forward, begging his legs not to give out on him now. He looked up to see a castle in the distance, his heart surging with hope for the first time. Maybe there was someone there that could help him.
"Grab him!" the man yelled from behind him, nearly at his heels.
Dean opened his mouth, eyes locked on the dark, looming castle shrouded by the dark mist and screamed out, "Help! Please! Help me!"
He tripped over a root in the ground, yelping as his small body went tumbling forward, scraping the skin on his arm and knee.
The two men stood over him, wide smiles as though they had just caught themselves the meal of a lifetime.
"Time to come with us, my pretty prince," he chuckled darkly, bending forward and clutching onto Dean's arm, pulling him to his feet.
"NO!" Dean screamed, hysterics consuming his body, "No! Please! Stop! Someone help me!"
"There's no one here to hear you," the man sneered, pushing his face close to Dean's.
"We should get out of here," the other man spoke nervously, glancing around the woods.
The first man ignored him, instead reaching forward to grab Dean's tear-stained face to face forward, looking into his dark eyes, "Shame you're worth more untouched. We could have a lot of fun."
"No," Dean sobbed, ashamed at the fear he felt. His dad would never succomb to fear like this. He would have fought. But, Dean couldn't. He was too small and completely powerless. Instead, he was reduced to begging for his life, "Please don't. Let me go."
The man stood up, turning to his companion and ordered, "Let's get out of here."
"Finally," the other muttered, turning to lead them back the way they came through the gate.
"No!" Dean screamed, trying to kick and claw at the man whose fingers were lactched around his arm, "Let go of me!"
"Shut up!" the man spat, pulling Dean forward, practically dragging him against the uneven ground, scraping up his legs worse than they had been before.
A loud roar, echoing through the trees made each of the men stop, looking out in horror.
"What was that?" the second man asked.
"Nothing," the first replied quickly, shuddering when a loud roar filled the forest a second time, closer than it had seemed before, "Keep moving."
The two picked up their speed, the tall man grabbing to pick up Dean who was still struggling to fight against him.
"Let go!" Dean tried again, thrashing his body to try and get out of the man's tight grip.
"I said shut up!" The man yelled while a third roar blew wind in their direction.
"It's getting closer!" The man yelled, turning back and screeching at the sight behind him.
Dean's body trembled as he still fought the grip that held onto him, not daring to look back at the monster that had followed them.
"RUN!" The man yelled, turning towards the black gates, which were in sight, and bolting in their direction.
Dean continued screaming and sobbing, as the man realized he'd never make it still holding onto Dean.
"Give him up as a sacrifice!" The second man suggested.
The man who held Dean looked pained, but obliged, throwing Dean to the ground, hard enough for his ankle to feel as though it were on fire.
This was it. He was about to be eaten.
Knowing there was no way he'd be able to outrun a monster, Dean pulled his legs close to him, burrying his head into his knees and cried, and waited for his inevitable death.
He felt a warm breath blow over his body, and a deep low growl. He sobbed as a roar echoed over his body, his hands immediately rushing to cover his ears as the sound was louder than anything he'd ever heard before.
He waited for something to strike him, but instead heard the screams of the men who tried to kidnap him. Dean squinted one eye open, looking towards the gate, only to see a body being thrown against the black gate. He screamed, shutting his eyes tightly once again, tears spilling through the closed eye lids.
Another scream, another roar, this battle seemed to last forever, and Dean was caught in the middle. He took a deep breath, willing himself to be brave one more time, and jumped up, bolting towards the gate. Before he could make his escape, he tripped over a pile of rocks collapsing on his injured ankle and hit his head against the bars.
Black spots blurred his vision and he heard one last roar before succumbing to the blackness completely.
--
Dean sighed happily as he snuggled beneath heavy covers, relishing in the warmth and weight on top of him. He blinked his eyes open, wondering if Ellen had breakfast ready for him yet, when his eye caught the color of the blue silk sheets he was lying in. He didn't have blue sheets, his were red.
Dean shot up in the bed, looking around the room, panic once again rising in his chest.
The last thing he remembered were the bad guys who were trying to take him and the monster roaring above him.
Did the bad guys succeed in stealing him away?
How did he get from there to here?
Where was here anyway?
The room had to be larger than his own back home. Perhaps even as large as his dad's. The bed he was lying in was in a dark wooden frame and there was other matching furniture.
Dean jumped when the door knob turned, pulling the sheets up to cover half his face, so only his eyes were looking out.
He was surprised when a tall, beautiful man with messy black hair and long dark grey robes stepped through.
He glanced over at Dean, who was watching curiously, and spoke in a deep gravely voice, "Oh good. You're awake."
Dean watched the man as he prepared a cup of a drink, speaking up timidly, "Who are you?"
The man turned, holding two cups of liquid as he walked cautiously to where Dean was lying, "My name is Castiel."
"Cas-el? Cas-y-el? Castile?" Dean huffed, frustrated he couldn't get the other man's name right. It was much too difficult.
"Cas?" Dean tried, accepting the cup that the older man held out for him. He was pleased when Cas nodded, accepting the nickname and showing Dean he had his full attention.
"What happened? Are you…" he hesitated before asking, “Are you a bad guy?”
Cas frowned, sipping from his cup, signaling that Dean should do the same. Dean looked down at the liquid, scrunching up his nose at the smell. It didn't smell nice.
He looked away, his gaze going back up to Cas' who was watching him amusedly.
"It's tea," he answered Dean's unasked question, "made with the herbs from my garden."
Not wanting to be rude, despite the fact that he wasn’t sure whether or not this was a good guy, he hesitantly sick his tongue out, dipping it into the dark liquid. He made a noise of distaste as the bitter substance rolled into his mouth.
"Yuck," he said, setting down the mug and running his teeth over the edge of his tongue, desperately trying to rid his mouth of the lingering taste.
"Perhaps this particular drink isn't for everyone," Cas spoke, his lips slightly upturned, as he took another sip from his own streaming beverage.
Dean frowned, staring up at this older man and asked again, "Cas? Where am I? Am I safe here?"
Cas thought for a moment, before responding, "You are in my home. In the dark woods."
So, he was still in the dark woods. He thought back to the castle he had seen in the distance and wondered if that’s where he was. Perhaps those bad men were wrong and Cas had heard his cries for help!
He asked again, "But, how did I get here? Last thing I remember was running from those men..."
Dean shuddered at the thought of the man's hands clutching him tightly, threatening to take him away from everyone he loved. He forced himself to continue, "And then the monster came!"
He watched Cas flinch at the words, but pressed on, his arms flailing animatedly as he retold his story, "I thought he was going to eat me up. So I tried to run, but I fell. Then, everything went dark. And when I woke up, i was here!"
Dean looked back into Cas' deep blue gaze, searching for the answers.
Cas opened his mouth and hesitated, before he stated with determination, "You asked me if I was one of the bad guys, and I want to assure you that I am not. As long as you’re with me, no vile thing will ever harm you."
A rush of warmth filled Dean's chest, knowing without a doubt that Cas would keep his word. He felt safe with him. And his dad always told him to follow his gut.
Dean frowned at the thought of his dad, remembering the bloodshed he'd fled from the day before. He pulled his knees close to his chest and spoke in a small voice.
"Cas, do you think my dad is okay?"
Cas' shoulders slumped as he watched the small boy and responded honestly, "I don't know what happened to your Father. I'm sorry."
Dean took a deep breath, counting all the way to ten, before he jumped out of the soft bed, holding out his hand for Cas to take.
"Well, we're just going to have to go out and find him."
Cas placed his hand into Dean's, his eyes immediately dropping to the floor.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I-I can't."
Dean squeezed his hand, stepping forward to place the other on his shoulder and spoke encouragingly, "Sure you can, Cas. I know it may be scary, but if we stick together..."
Cas let out a humorless laugh and interrupted, "I'm not frightened, little one. I simply can not leave these grounds."
Dean scrunched up his nose, "But, that doesn't make any sense. Why can't you..."
He paused, thinking back to everything he'd learned, gazing into the deep blue eyes of the beautiful man before him.
In fact, if Dean was being honest, this was probably the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, with his bronze skin, dark hair, and light eyes.
He was a beautiful man, living in a castle, in the middle of the dark forest, who couldn't leave the grounds...
Dean gasped, tapping his hand against Cas' shoulder excitedly, "You're the lost Prince!"
He was rewarded with a warm, crooked smile, "I suppose I am."
Dean stepped back, both his hands covering his mouth as the realization struck him like lightening on a stormy day, "I found the lost Prince."
He stood straight, both fists resting on his hips as he stuck his chest out proudly, "I am the greatest hunter ever to exist."
Cas chuckled, watching Dean fondly through his thick black lashes, "Not quite yet, little one,"
He held out his hand for Dean, who promptly accepted, allowing himself to be pulled back into Cas' space. Cas reached up, brushing a few strands of hair from his face and continued, "But perhaps one day you will be."
Dean preened under the attention, lifting up his own hands to rub against the rough stubble on the older Prince's face, "You're just as beautiful as the stories say."
Cas chuckled again, answering warmly, "I'll have to take your word for it."
It dawned on Dean what this meant. Cas couldn't leave the grounds. He couldn't escape the castle. And there was no way that Dean was going out to wander on his own. He didn't know if he could find his way home in these dark woods.
Besides, there was no way he was leaving Cas alone now that he had found him.
"My dad will find us, and save us both," Dean proclaimed suddenly, "I know he will."
Cas stared at Dean incredulously, as though he weren't sure how to respond to such a bold claim. After a full minute, he seemed to gather his thoughts, and merely nodded at the small child.
"Alright Dean," he spoke deeply, "I believe you."
Dean nodded, satisfied now that they had a plan, "Good. Well then, all we have to do is wait."
He stood up, rushing to climb back onto the soft bed, and sat cross legged in the middle, eyes wandering around the foreign room.
Cas stayed still for a moment before standing up gracefully and gliding over to a small kitchenette area.
He pulled out some fresh vegetables, dicing them into small cubes, and throwing them into a small pot.
Dean watched as Cas worked for a few short minutes before falling back onto the bed, sighing exasperatedly.
"I'm bored," he whined, "I hate waiting."
Cas merely chuckled, "You were the one to suggest the activity, little one."
Dean frowned, climbing off the soft sheets and marched over next to Cas' side.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Making soup," he replied, continuing to cut the veggies effortlessly.
"Can I help?" Dean asked warily. Back at home, no one ever let him help.
"Of course," Cas replied, much to his surprise.
He instructed Dean to wash his hands, then showed him which veggies to collect and had him put them into the pot to simmer. Cas even let Dean cut a zucchini all by himself! Dean insisted Cas stand behind him, just in case he needed help.
When they were done, Dean helped Cas clean up the kitchen area, while they waited for their food to cook. Despite the fact that his stomach was growling, he didn't complain once, happily helping his new friend with whatever he needed.
When the food was finally done, they sat down to eat, Dean sitting right next to Cas so they were touching. It was the best soup he'd ever had, even without all the meat.
When they were done, Cas ordered Dean to lie down on the bed, seeing how Dean was failing to suppress his yawns.
"But, Caaaas," Dean pouted, dragging his feet to the bed.
"Time for sleep, little one," Cas insisted, helping Dean underneath the covers.
"Tell me a story, pleeeease!" Dean begged, as Cas tucked the sheets around him.
Cas frowned, "I'm not sure I know many..."
"Tell me your story," Dean insisted, "The story of the lost prince is my favorite!"
Cas stared back, his mouth slightly agape. He swallowed and spoke timidly, "Alright, I'll tell you my story."
Dean patted the spot next to him, urging Cas to sit close. He smiled happily when the other man obliged, snuggling tightly against his side, weaving his arm through the other's and grasping his hand tightly into his own.
"Okay," he announced, "I'm ready."
Cas smiled softly and started, “Well, I guess it started many, many years ago…”
“No, Cas,” Dean interrupted, “You have to start with ‘Once Upon a Time’!”
Cas chuckled, “My apologies. Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a great and prosperous kingdom. And in this kingdom, lived a young man.”
“That’s you!” Dean exclaimed.
“Yes, little one. Well, this young man loved doing many things.”
“Like what?” Dean asked curiously.
Cas was thoughtful before answering, “Well, he liked tending the gardens. And playing in the springs. And flying.”
Cas closed his eyes, humming softly to himself, “He especially loved flying.”
Dean scoffed, “Cas, humans can’t fly.”
Cas simply shushed him and moved on, “This young man was very happy and constantly surrounded by people who loved him. So, when one day a visitor came to the castle, asking for this boy’s hand in marriage, it wasn’t unusual, and was in fact expected.”
Dean scrunched his nose, “Yuck.”
“The young man, however, refused to accept his hand seeing something in him that no one else seemed to be able to see.”
“What was it?” Dean asked quietly, leaning forward.
Cas answered, “He felt a dark and strange presence when he was around this foreigner. But, the boy’s parents asked if he would give this man a chance.”
“Why?”
The older man hesitated before responded, “This stranger was wealthy and had a lot of influence. He was a ruler of a nearby kingdom, and had appeared as though he would make a fine husband. So, the boy agreed to meet with the man each day for two weeks, before he was required to give his answer.”
“So, what did he find out?” Dean asked eagerly.
“Well, he found that the more he spent time with this man, the darker he felt. He learned that this other man was accustomed to using a strange and dark magic to obtain and sustain his power. A dark magic that the young boy felt was too dangerous to use. So, when the two weeks came to a close, the boy answered a second time, that he would not marry a man whose soul was so irreparably dark and twisted.”
“Was the man angry?”
Cas nodded, “He was very angry. He ranted and raved, and sent a blast of magic around the castle, ordering the young prince to accept his hand, but the boy refused. So, the man left, threatening that he would return and he would have his way eventually.
“The young boy was concerned, but his parents simply brushed the threat off, claiming that the man could do nothing to harm their great kingdom.”
“What did he do?”
“A few years later, he returned to the castle and put a curse on the kingdom, dooming the race to become outcasts among man. He set the castle into a blaze of flames that burned late into the night. Amidst the chaos, he snuck into the castle, found the young prince, and stole him away, hiding him in a dark, enchanted castle, guarded by the worst creatures ever to roam about on the earth.”
“Dragons,” Dean breathed excitedly.
Cas flinched again, his eyes looking sad, “No, little one. Not dragons.”
Dean’s jaw dropped, “Bu-but…what’s worse than dragons?”
Cas frowned, his eyes deepening with sorrow. He ran his fingers through Dean’s hair and spoke softly, “Perhaps dragons aren’t as bad as they seem.”
Dean frowned at the idea. He’d never heard of that before. He’d always been taught that dragons were selfish and would rob you of your gold and treasures and eat all your livestock.
Before he could ask what Cas meant, the older man continued his story, “The dark man asked the prince one last time if he would accept his hand and end the chaos and destruction brought upon his people and his land, and the prince thought about it.”
“What?” Dean asked, outraged, “He thought about it? But why? He didn’t accept it did he?”
Cas shook his head and explained, “Yes, he thought about it. He thought about the friends and family he left behind, the people he loved being killed in his name. He thought that maybe perhaps if he said yes, then the terror would stop. Perhaps if he selflessly gave himself away, he would save his people from a terrible fate.”
Cas took a deep breath, “So, yes, he thought long and hard. But in the end, he couldn’t do it. He knew that this evil man who’d taken him was a liar, and the likelihood of him keeping his word wasn’t likely. So, he said no, one final time.”
Dean ran his fingers along the older man’s palm, tracing the lines he saw in front of him. He paused at a golden bracelet Cas wore, feelings the deep ridges of the metal against his fingertips. He wondered briefly if the etchings meant anything or if they were simply a pretty design. Somehow, he felt that Cas wouldn't wear something that didn't have some meaning.
He shook his head, thinking back to Cas' story, wondering what would have happened if Cas said yes.
“I’m glad you said no, Cas,” he whispered.
Cas kissed the top of Dean’s head and whispered back, “Me too, little one.”
He sat back, watching as Dean traced his palm, his fingers extending to trace the veins on the inside of his arm and finished, “So, the evil man kept the young prince hidden away. He was determined that if he couldn’t have him, then no one could. He casts dangerous spells around the fortress, locking the young prince inside its walls forever, ensuring that he could never escape his grasp.”
Dean frowned, sitting up suddenly and climbed onto his knees so he was face to face with Cas. He placed his hands on his shoulders and spoke very seriously, “I’m going to save you, Cas. I promise.”
He watched as Cas’ eyes melted at the sentiment, and spoke back warmly, “I think it’s time for bed now, little one.”
Dean nodded, holding Cas’ hand in his as he climbed back under the covers, refusing to let go.
“I’m serious, Cas,” Dean said again as he settled into the sheets, “I’m going to save you. Ad when I do, you can come back to the castle and live with me! And you can have a garden, and we can play in the woods, and go horseback riding! But not flying, cause I don’t like heights.”
Sighing happily at this plan, Dean curled up against his side, nuzzling his nose into the other man’s ribcage, nearly purring at the feel of the man’s hands in his hair. He finally closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall into a deep and happy sleep.
--
The next day went about the same as the first. Dean begged Cas to tell him stories of his childhood, which the older man amusedly complied. He learned all about his homeland, and the rich and prosperous nature that filled the grounds. They went into a greenhouse in the castle, picking vegetables and fruit to eat, and Cas was kind enough to let him help prepare all of the food.
Dean made sure to remind Cas several times throughout their time together that his dad would find them and he would save them. Cas would always frown slightly before answering back, "Of course, Dean."
The days passed by quickly and Dean found himself on day three, still waiting for their rescue. He assured Cas that he wasn't anxious, he knew his dad would come.
So, when a knock and a yell came from the front door, Dean jumped up from his spot next to Cas on the bed where they had been reading a story and ran out to meet the person down on the main floor.
"Dad!" He called out, racing out of the room.
His heart nearly burst in excitement when he turned the corner and found his dad standing in the entry way, cautiously looking around.
"Dean," his father breathed in relief, immediately dropping to his knees and holding out his arms for his son to run into.
Dean clutched onto his dad, speaking frantically, "I knew you would come, I just knew it. I told Cas you would save us and you did!"
His dad leaned back and asked alarmed, "Cas? Who's Cas?"
Cas' footsteps filled the chamber as he ran into the room, having chased after Dean. He froze at the entrance, his eyes racing to look in between Dean and his father.
Dean jumped out of his dad's embrace, running to grab Cas' hand and dragged him back to his dad.
"Cas, this is my dad. I told you he would come! I told you!"
"Yes you did, little one," Cas replied, looking nervously at the man that stood before him.
"Dad, this is Cas...Casti-..."
"Castiel," the older man's deep voice supplied helpfully.
"Yeah," Dean agreed, nodding fervently. Then, in a stage whisper, he informed his dad, "He's the lost prince."
His dad's eyes widened in wonder and disbelief. He looked approvingly at Cas' figure, causing the other to shuffle uncomfortably.
"Is he now?" John asked, stepping forward, holding out his hand, "I'm King John of Winchester."
Cas bowed his head, kissing the back of John's hand and replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."
Dean watched the exchange, his eyebrows furrowed, unsure what was going on. He pulled on his dad's sleeve to gain his attention and spoke, "I told Cas that you would save him and that he could come home with us. He's going to play with me and I'm going to take him to the pond down the road."
John's eyebrow raised, amused, "Did you now?" He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Cas and asked, "And did you agree to the terms, lost prince?"
"Dean," Cas' voice spoke, slightly strained, "Why don't you run up and grab some food to take on the journey."
"Okay Cas," Dean replied happily, leaving his father and Cas behind. He raced up the steps back into the room where he has spent most of his time. He found a bag and threw a bunch of vegetables into it, hoping his dad would be okay with the lack of meat.
He raced back out and down the stairs, catching the end of the adult’s conversation.
“…too dangerous,” Cas spoke mournfully, “You have to choose.”
“I’m sorry,” his dad answered, shaking his head, “but I think my choice is fairly obvious.”
Cas smiled sadly, “I know.”
“Are you sure…” his dad started, being cut off by Cas.
“I’m sure.”
Dean raced in between the two, unsure what they were talking about, but jumped into his dad’s arms, holding the bags of food.
“I got it!” he exclaimed, smiling brightly at his achievements.
“Good job little one,” Cas answered warmly, before telling John, “You should leave now. The sooner you go, the easier it will be to get away.”
Dad looked up at his dad, his eyes squinting in confusion, as he tried to decipher what Cas was trying to say.
“Thank you,” his dad breathed, turning away.
Dean grunted, pushing back against his dad and yelled out, “Wait! Where are you going?”
“We’ve got to get out of here, Dean.”
Dean struggled against his dad’s grasp, squirming enough that the hold on him was forced to loosen enough for him to jump out of his dad’s arms.
His dad called out his name as he raced back to Cas, grabbing his hand and pulling on it.
“C’mon, Cas! We have to go.”
Cas’ shoulders dropped as he knelt down onto the floor, so his face was level with Dean’s.
“I’m afraid I won’t be making this trip.”
Dean’s jaw dropped and he turned back to look at his dad, who simply nodded in confirmation.
“Bu-but why?” Dean whined.
Cas lifted up a hand, brushing his fingers against Dean’s cheek and kissed the top of his head, “You’ll be safer without me, little one.”
His felt a hand rest on his shoulder and looked up to see his dad staring firmly down at him, “It’s time to go, Dean.”
Dean lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Cas’ neck, sniffing into the space. He was glad when Cas returned the gesture, wrapping his own arms around him in return, holding him tightly. His embrace was warm and pleasant.
“But, I want you to come with me,” Dean whispered, forcing himself not to cry in front of his dad.
"I know," Cas responded.
They held each other for a moment before Dean pulled away, a determined look on his face.
"I'm coming back for you," he declared boldly.
"If you say so," Cas replied hesitantly.
Dean growled, brushing aside his dad's hands trying to pull him away and reached up to his neck pulling off the necklace his three year old brother had given him for his birthday just a few months before.
He placed the cord gently over his new friend's head, placing the pendant against his chest.
"I'm coming back Cas," Dean repeated softly, his hands placed firmly on the older man's shoulders, capturing his eyes in his own, "I promise."
Cas' hand fluttered up the grab the pendant in his palm, holding it as though he were afraid Dean would retract his gift at any moment.
"I believe you, Dean," he said, a soft look of awe settling onto his face, "Now you need to go. Quickly."
Dean nodded, holding out his arms for his dad to pick him up, who immediately did so effortlessly.
"Go out the back gate. I'll be able to distract the creature out in the front, giving you time to get away," Cas instructed John.
John nodded, turning to leave out the door he had originally entered through.
Dean looked up over his dad's shoulder, catching a glimpse at the beautiful lost prince one last time, marveling at how he looked down at the pendant with wonder. Cas caught Dean's gaze one last time, sending him off with a little wave and a whispered, "Stay safe, my little prince."
With those words, his dad exited through the front doors and out of the side of the castle.
It was only a moment before Dean heard it. The roars of the creature that had cornered him earlier. He looked back, catching the shadow of two magnificent wings rising over the side of the fortress. Dean gasped at the sight, yelling at his dad, "We have to go back! We have to go back for Cas!"
He hit his hands against his dad's shoulders, trying to loosen his hold as he had earlier, with no success. His dad simply kept moving forward, running further away from the creature that plagued Dean's mind.
"Please!" Dean tried again, horrified when his dad stepped through the gate and stepped outside the realms of the castle grounds.
His dad kept moving forward, his steps hitting the ground hard, one after the other, heading far away from the danger and from Cas.
He couldn't hold it on any longer. Tears streamed down his light colored cheeks, as he watched the fog and darkness overtake the sight they were leaving behind.
In that moment he didn't care what his dad would think if he caught him crying. He didn't care that he was supposed to be brave. He simply thought about Cas, all alone in a dark castle much too big for one person, guarded by monsters worse than anything Dean could imagine.
Worse than dragons, Cas had said.
Dean closed his eyes, trying to memorize those bright blue eyes and the feel of the stubble beneath his soft fingertips.
He wouldn't forget his promise.
He would come back for Cas.
He would save the lost prince.