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Castiel pulled the hood of his jacket up as he walked down the damp sidewalk, still wet from the rain, and crouched down next to the back door.
This was such a bad idea.
He shook his head and pursed his lips. No use in turning back after two weeks of deliberating.
After quickly glancing in both directions to make sure no one was heading in his direction (not that he was expecting anyone to at three in the morning), he shook the door handle.
Locked, obviously.
Castiel murmured a few words under his breath and blew a quick puff of air into the keyhole, smiling when he heard a satisfying click . The gears shifted into place.
The door only creaked a little when he opened it and slipped through.
The more steps that he took inside the museum, the more sure he was that this was a bad idea. When had he decided to live a life of crime ?
He paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself. This wasn’t a life of crime. This was one crime that wasn’t even going to hurt anyone, and then he was going to call it a day - forever.
As he quietly made his way through the dim hallways, he mentally ran through the list of ingredients that were needed for the spell. Most of them were easy enough to find, some would take a little bit of creativity, and one - the most important ingredient - had to be a bone shaving. Sure, he could have settled for some kind of fish bone he picked out of his dinner or something, but when it came to spells that helped you see into the future, the older the bone, the clearer the vision. The clearer the vision, the more his client was willing to pay.
And, well -
Castiel stopped as he turned the corner and looked up at the massive skeletal remains of a triceratops.
You couldn’t get much older than this.
Castiel licked his lips, whispered a small incantation, and took out a small sprig of bamboo, crushing it in his palm with one hand while pointing his fingers up towards the camera in the corner of the room.
The small red light dimmed.
He let out a breath of relief, surprised and pleased that the spell had ended up working.
Now came the tricky part, but once it was over with, he could leave and be done with it.
“Hey!”
Castiel froze.
“Hey - who’s there?”
Breath caught in his throat, Castiel turned to look towards the source of the voice, only to get a flashlight beam to the face. He quickly turned his head away, hoping whoever it was hadn’t managed to catch a good glimpse.
Dammit.
He clenched his teeth together, heart pounding against his ribs as he shielded his face from the flashlight’s glare.
He’d forgotten about the night watchmen. Of course they'd be here, patrolling.
“Hey -”
Castiel took a breath - and ran.
He fled down the opposite hallway in a panic, his legs feeling untrustworthy beneath him; the darkness was oppressive and made him doubt every step. The echoes of his pounding feet made it hard to judge whether the owner of the voice was following him -
“Hey! Stop or I’ll call the police!”
The voice sounded a lot closer than it had been before. Castiel fumbled into the pocket of his jacket as he ran and pulled out what he hoped was a dogbane flower, and tossed it onto the ground with a few choice words. He heard the loud bang and prayed to whatever deity was feeling generous that the guard had breathed in the smoke and would go unconscious.
Castiel skidded around another corner and slowed to a jog when he could no longer hear anyone behind him. Panting, he tried to regain some calm, make a plan.
He should keep moving, keep an eye out for other night watchmen - but if he’d successfully knocked out the guard with dogbane, then he could afford to go back to the skeleton and -
“Gotcha!”
A thick wall of muscle rammed into him from the opposite side of the hallway, knocking them both to the ground and pinning Castiel’s arms to his sides.
“Alright, witch, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re -”
A bright light was shone in Castiel’s face again, making him squint and turn his head away from the figure on top of him.
“Cas?”
The light vanished and Castiel blinked rapidly, trying to get a glimpse of the the guard. The voice was familiar, but darkness and panic was filling up his brain too completely for him to concentrate long enough to place it.
Why did it sound so familiar?
Oh.
Oh no .
“Um. Hello, Dean.”
The halo burned into his eyes by the flashlight lasted a few more seconds before Dean’s face finally became clear, peering down out of the darkness - consternation written in every line.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing here?” Dean whispered, casting a couple of quick, sharp glances left and right, checking for other guards - or other renegade witches, Castiel supposed. “Why are you - did you break in? ”
Castiel wriggled, trying to hint that he would really appreciate it if Dean was no longer sitting on top of him.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here, Dean? You’re a security guard?” he hissed. Now that he could see, he could make out Dean’s crisp uniform and utility belt all tied together nicely, with a nametag above his left shirt pocket.
Dean’s lips pressed together, and he seemed to suddenly realize he was still pinning Castiel down onto the cold tile.
“Maybe. But I think you breaking into a museum is a little bit more of a pressing subject right now?” Dean said as he stood up, holding his hand out to Castiel. “I thought you said you were going to be working on some potion tonight or something?”
Castiel gripped Dean’s hand tightly and allowed himself to be helped back onto his feet.
“I am. Technically.”
“Dean?” A concerned female voice from the walkie-talkie on Dean’s belt began crackling. “Everything okay back there? Thought I heard a scuffle.”
Dean sighed and unclipped it from his belt, side-eyeing Castiel.
“Yeah, Charlie. All good. Uh, my boyfriend just decided to drop in for a visit, apparently.”
“Oh! Well, nice! Tell him I say ‘hi’!”
“Will do.”
Dean re-clipped it and folded his arms against his chest, an eyebrow raised as he glared.
“Charlie says ‘hi’.”
“I thought you went bowling with Benny on Tuesday and Thursday nights,” Castiel countered, trying to delay an inevitable conversation, especially since he had no clue who this Charlie was. “But instead you’re a security guard for a museum?”
“That you just tried to rob, Cas.” Dean’s frown grew more pronounced. “What the hell were you gonna take? Why were you - when did - I can’t believe you tried to dogbane me! ”
Castiel met his eyes, and didn’t know what to say. Dean sighed and rubbed at his eyes with one hand.
“Just… explain. Please.”
Castiel’s defensive pose dropped as he leaned against the wall in defeat.
“I know that we’re tight on money, Dean. I was just...” Castiel reached up and dropped his hood from over his head and ran a hand through his hair. “All I needed was a sliver of dinosaur bone. Just the smallest amount. No one would ever notice. And then it would complete a very difficult and hard to come by spell that I could sell for an exorbitant amount of money -”
“Cas, we’re fine,” Dean whispered in exasperation. “We always make rent and we never go hungry. Do we have a lot of spending money? Not really, but we do fine. We definitely don’t do badly enough to break into a goddamn museum!”
Castiel hung his head and pressed his lips together.
“I -” Castiel sighed. Not meeting Dean’s eyes, he said, “I just wanted to buy you a ring.”
A pregnant pause filled the hallway and Castiel stared at his feet, not wanting to see the look in Dean’s eyes.
They’d talked about marriage only a few times, but had more or less come to the conclusion that it wasn’t something they could really afford to do until they were more financially stable. There wasn’t anything wrong with what they currently had, so they’d dropped it. But Castiel hadn't been able to help imagining it - rings on their fingers. Promises made to each other - promises they'd keep.
“Cas.”
Castiel slowly looked up, relieved to see that the confusion and disappointment that had been etched into Dean’s face had been replaced with something much softer.
Dean reached out and slipped his hand into Castiel’s, intertwining their fingers.
“Okay, so two things. One: those dinosaur bones are fucking fake.”
“What?”
“I know. Super disappointing. But they don’t keep the real stuff in a small museum like this one. Two: you’re a dumbass.”
Castiel blinked, unsure of where that second point was going.
“That’s what this second job was for, Cas.” Dean shook his head and chuckled, reaching into the pocket of his pants and pulling out a black case. “I got it last week and keep it on me all the time, just in case. I didn’t want you find it.”
Castiel’s grip on Dean’s hand tightened as his eyes widened. This was - Dean had -
“This is definitely not how I pictured this happening,” Dean mused as Castiel struggled to find his voice. “Because when I pictured it, I wasn’t in uniform and you weren’t a criminal. But since when have we ever been typical?”
Dean grinned and pulled his hand away, letting go of Castiel. He looked down at the floor, about to bend down -
“Yes.” Castiel breathed.
Dean cocked his head. “But I haven’t -”
“Yes, Dean the answer is yes. But you can officially ask me later, because I swear, if you propose to me in this stupid museum that I’ve had anxiety over breaking into for the past two weeks, I’ll never forgive you.”
Dean threw his head back and laughed, before Castiel cut him off by pulling him into a kiss.
“For the record,” Dean murmured, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against Castiel’s, “this whole ‘criminal’ thing you’ve got going on tonight is kind of sexy. How about you wear a ski- mask next time we -”
Castiel groaned in dismay.