Castiel's growing suspicious. There's been one too many times where Lysander's passed him the tissue box before he's even sneezed, known about breaking news before the news channel does, and predicted the outcome of sports games too often to be a coincidence.

And he doesn't take it seriously at first. More than anything, it's funny how the guy who forgets his stuff knows seemingly impossible things. But it's one errant comment that changes it all.

"What? Are you psychic or something?" Castiel laughs as Lysander correctly answers the 13th quiz show question in a row.

To most it would be a harmless quip; to Lysander, it feels like an accusation. Lysander's eyes widen and he quickly narrows them again to hide his surprise. "What makes you say that?"

Castiel scoffs. "It's just a joke Lys, chill."

"Right," Lysander lets the conversation die there, but his discomfort is palpable and the space between them feels heavy. He doesn't answer any further trivia questions.

Silent moments aren't unusual between them, but awkward ones are. Quick to move on from it, Castiel turns off the television and changes the subject. "Do you want to go into town and get something to eat? I'm fucking starving."

"Sure," Lysander says, standing up and instinctively patting his back pocket to check he has his wallet, "But go the long way into town, there're delays on the motorway."

Castiel checks the traffic map on his phone and it's completely bare, there's not a single crash, delay, or incident anywhere. "Nah, the app says it's fine."

Lysander ponders a second. "Maybe it hasn't been updated yet."

Castiel lays his phone and car keys on the coffee table and takes a seat. "How do you know that?"

Lysander raises a brow and continues standing. "I thought we were going out to eat."

Castiel shakes his head. "Not 'til you get straight with me. How do you always know…"Castiel pauses, unable to choose his words. He doesn't have facts to lie out; it's more a set of circumstances he can't explain and an odd feeling to go along with them. "Everything. You always just know things, and it makes no sense."

Lysander doesn't move, doesn't respond. He stares ahead like a deer in the headlights. He's been caught out.

"Earlier I joked that you're a psychic and you got all weird about it. Are you?"

Again, no reply.

Castiel raises his voice. "Lys, are you damn psychic or not?"

"Yes"

Lysander winces in anticipation and turns away. He's been caught now and he's going to hear all about how he's a freak, he's unnatural, he's everything the ugly voices in the back of his head told him he was.

But nothing happens.

Slowly he opens his eyes and turns to face Castiel who's leaning back in his chair.

"Jeez Lys, that explains a whole lot, actually."

Meek and shocked, Lysander takes a seat opposite Castiel. "Pardon?"

Castiel runs a hand through his hair. "I guess it just makes sense in hindsight. You're always guessing everything right and you're always the first to know things."

Castiel pauses to light a cigarette. He usually goes out onto the balcony to smoke, but this is a lot to take in and he needs to de-stress. "Anyway, tell me about this. Have you always been psychic? Does it run in the family? Is Leigh psychic?"

Lysander smiles for the first time today, relieved to be treated with curiosity rather than disgust. For all his shortcomings, Castiel at least has an open mind. "Where should I start?"

Castiel grins, "With the lottery numbers, if you have them."