A/N it's 11:20 at night and im way I lazy to proofread so here, have this mess

The next few days aren't too bad. Castiel still has trouble sleeping, plagued by nightmares every time he closes his eyes, and every time they wake Castiel up, Dean wakes up, too, and has to coax him back to sleep. Needless to say, they both lose a lot of sleep, and it shows.

It doesn't stop Castiel from writing back to his fans, though, and Dean is more than willing to check out those fans' Twitter accounts to see how excited they are when they get the letters. Dean also assures him that no one seems bitter than they sent fan mail without getting a response, and though Castiel is a bit skeptical, he decides to believe the boy just because it makes him feel better. He also asks Dean to tweet out that Castiel can't go back to his P.O. box for a while, so sending him anything right now is a bit pointless.

It's July third today. Dean went out to grocery store to pick up some ice cream for them both. Castiel had given him very specific instructions to buy the mint chocolate chip Halo Top brand ice cream, which is both healthy and only comes in one-pint containers, so he can claim he'll feel better eating it. In reality, though, it's just because he hasn't had much of an appetite since the Louisiana bombing, but he doesn't want Dean to start fussing over him.

Castiel is just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling out of boredom, when the first explosion happens. He sits up with a gasp, his heart pounding in his chest. What was that? Where did that come from? What's happening? It can't be another terrorist attack. It just can't be. They're in the middle of a small, friendly neighborhood in Massachusetts. No one would attack here. It has to be something else, and he knows it has to be something else.

So why is he panicking? Why did his heart rate spike? Why does he feel like he just can't catch his breath? Why is he burning up, like he's running a fever of well over 100 degrees?

Castiel pulls his knees to his chest, making himself as small as possible. Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop.

But now he's too hot, like his body is in overdrive, working too hard to pump that blood and breathe so hard and quickly and oh my god, is he going to pass out?

Castiel pulls off his shirt and wipes his face, his neck, his chest; his shirt damp with both sweat and tears. He tosses it on the floor and grabs a pillow, hugging it to his chest and burying his face in it. His breaths are heavy but strained, and they must not be delivering enough oxygen to his brain because with every second, he feels more and more lightheaded.

Then the second explosion comes, and Castiel accidentally throws his pillow away from him, squeezing his eyes shut and clapping his hands over his ears. Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop —

Suddenly, he feels the bed dip next to him, and there's a hand on his back. Castiel glances over to see Dean sitting next to him, concern covering his features. Castiel uncovers his ears, wrapping his arms around his fiancé instead.

"Hey, Cas, what's wrong?" Dean asks, rubbing his back soothingly.

Castiel doesn't answer. He can't answer.

"Is it the fireworks?" Dean asks. "The neighbors always light them early."

Fireworks? Of course. Of course they're fireworks. Had he been in his right mind, he would have known that. Had he been in his right mind, it would have calmed him down.

"Shh, Cas, it's okay," Dean murmurs, holding him close. "You have to breathe, remember? Breathe."

Castiel nods and closes his eyes, just focusing on that. He can breathe. He can do that. If there's one thing he can do, it's breathe.

But then the neighbors launch off another firework, and Castiel jumps.

"You're okay," Dean whispers. "You're going to be okay. The fireworks are gonna stop soon, I promise, okay, sweetie? You're okay."

Castiel snuffles and wipes the tears from his eyes. But again, when he hears the next firework, he jumps, squeezing Dean a little tighter.

"Shh, you're okay," Dean whispers. "Hey, what if we turn on some music? Maybe it'll block out the noise. How does that sound?"

Castiel hums, a noise of indifference.

"Okay, hold on," Dean says, pulling out his phone. "I just downloaded Spotify a few weeks ago and I still have no idea how to use it, but I did figure out how to shuffle the songs by one artist, so, Zeppelin?"

Castiel just shakes his head.

"Bon Jovi?" Dean tries again, likely remembering how Castiel's always called him his favorite.

But Castiel just shrugs.

"Alrighty, hold on," Dean says, giving his phone his full attention for a few minutes, until suddenly...

"Carry on my wayward son!"

Castiel smiles slightly. Kansas. He can deal with Kansas.

~~

"I think that's the last of them for tonight," Dean says, turning the music off. "I don't think we'll be able to get away from them tomorrow, what with being Steve Rogers Day and all, but maybe after that, we can go somewhere else for a few days, get away from the fireworks?"

Castiel doesn't even register that Dean just called the Fourth of July "Steve Rogers Day." He's going to have to deal with the fireworks tomorrow? And then the next day? And the next one? And the next?

"Cas?" Dean waves a hand in front of his face, snapping himself out if his trance. "You okay?"

Castiel nods. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"So, want to go somewhere after tomorrow?" Dean asks again. "Maybe we can find somewhere quiet for a few days, without the fireworks. We can just go drive around a little bit. Maybe we could go for a hike; just go hang out. How does that sound?"

Castiel would love to get away from the fireworks more than anything else. He just can't deal with it. But he doesn't want to drag Dean away for days just because he's so sensitive to loud noises. It's not fair to him. Castiel will just suck it up. It's not that hard.

"No," Castiel says finally. "No, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Dean asks.

Castiel just nods.

"Alright," Dean says skeptically. "Well, come on. I bought ice cream. Let's go eat it."

"I'm not hungry," Castiel mutters.

"What are you talking about? Everyone's always hungry for ice cream," Dean says.

"Not now."

"Come on, Cas," Dean insists. "You just had a panic attack. You have to eat."

Castiel cocks his head in confusion. "What?"

"That's what the internet says," Dean says.

"Again, what?" Castiel asks. "When did you google it?"

"Remember at Disney World, when you got off that rollercoaster and you were shaking and we didn't know if that was a panic attack?"

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "You looked it up all the way back then? Before I had actually had a real panic attack?"

Dean shrugs. "It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

Castiel can't help but smile at that. He really googled it when there was clearly nothing to worry about at the time? That's kind of sweet.

"Now come on. Let's go eat ice cream," Dean insists.

Castiel sighs. "Alright."

He follows his fiancé to the kitchen, where Dean pushes him down gently into a seat at the table. Castiel watches him open the freezer, where he sees five different containers of Castiel's ice cream cream, as well as two much larger tubs of Dean's. Dean hands Castiel his small pint of it with a spoon, then takes out his own, not bothering with a bowl.

Dean holds up his run of ice cream. "Cheers."

Castiel chuckles and does the same. He taps his ice cream with his spoon, and it doesn't seem to be too solid. Castiel scoops out a little bit and nibbles on it, letting it melt on his tongue. His stomach growls, but he just can't bring himself to eat.

Dean's oblivious, chowing down on his ice cream like he's only got two more minutes to live.

"You know," he says, mouth full of ice cream, "your birthday's only a couple weeks away."

"That's true," Castiel says, not sure where he's going with this.

"What do you want to do for it?" Dean asks.

"I don't know. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we should go back to Sioux Falls," Dean says. "We could go see both our families. Gabriel told me he and Sam are back from California for a few months. I think they'd like to see us."

Castiel just shakes his head.

"What? Why?" Dean asks, seeming genuinely surprised by the answer.

Castiel just shrugs.

"I think they'd all like to see you're okay," Dean adds.

"We can go back for Christmas," Castiel says.

"For a couple days, maybe," Dean says. "Assuming it's not on a Sunday. And even then, I don't know if I'll have the day off or not. You may have to go alone if you want to go for Christmas."

Castiel sighs. "Then we'll see them after the Super Bowl or whenever football ends."

"Why don't we just go before it starts?" Dean asks. "We have, like, three weeks. Why waste it sitting here?"

Castiel props his head up in his hand. "I just don't want to leave. You're welcome to go without me."

"What? No way!" Dean says, just as Castiel knew he would. "I'm not leaving you here alone." He sighs. "Alright, compromise. We'll stay here and celebrate your birthday here, just us two, and then maybe for Thanksgiving or Christmas or something, I'll see if we can get everyone to come see us instead. Okay?"

Castiel nods. He'll do what he can to keep Dean from inviting them here when the time comes, but for now, this is good. He doesn't want to see his family yet. He doesn't want to see anyone. He's a mess. He knows that. Dean knows that. But to everyone else, he's just a little rattled. He's not going to ruin the illusion. He might not be okay, but he can hide from everyone he loves until he can at least act the part.