1000's Of Days At The Bunker

Day 3: Buzzing Around and Busying Up

Bees. Ever since I was...broken, as an Angel, I have always been fascinated by bees. The planet Earth needs such tiny, complex creatures for its basic functions. So of course it is only logical to put them on socks. I was out shopping with Sam today, he had suggested that it would come in handy to have these skills. I believe he just wanted company other than Dean though. I know he loves his brother as I do mine (although most have tried to destroy me) , but sometimes we all need breaks.
The cart was full of salad supplies, junk food for Dean (no pie 'cause he's getting chubby Sam said to me), random fruits and food that I found particularly extraordinary compared to the others, and a bag of salt. This time it was for the drive way, Sam says that's how humans keep it from getting to icey in the winter. I already knew this information because that's all I did in the Garrison, watch humans, but I let Sam tell me anyway, I know he loves teaching new things.
As Sam and I walked over to the check out, I saw a very fuzzy pair of yellow and back striped socks. On the front of the toes it said "you're" and on the other "bee-utiful" I knew from that point on, I would need those socks. I can tell that I must have a face going because Sam just shrugs and tosses them into the cart. I can't wait to show Dean.
.
This is it...3...2...1... Now! I slide through the hall of the bunker and straight into the kitchen on my fuzzy bee socks. Deans face shows exactly what I thought, slightly frightened then questionable. I giggle, these are the best socks in the world!
"Woah, slow down there buddy! You're goings to hurt yourself!" I didn't pay any attention, I was too busy slipping around on the tile and wood floors of the bunker. Best socks ever.
"Dean," I say " you need a pair of these fuzzy socks too. Oh and Sam! He should get some with some sort of book pun or-or something like 'I love books' but instead of 'love' it should show, uh, picture of a book. I could find a pair for him and you. Yours could have the Impala on them and-"
"Cas, don't blow a fuse. They're just socks, I bet the nerds who made this place probably had some knitting stuff somewhere. Okay?"
Hell yeah that's okay. Imagine Mr. Grumpy-Gills-Dean walking through the bunker with fuzzy Impala socks. That's something I'd like to see some time soon. Or Sam in the library with his socks, boy, that would be ironic. I need to make these now and that's my final decision.
"Okay" I say with a grin. I have found a use, some way to pay the Winchesters back for their kindness.
.
"Ok so I dug around and all they have is crochet needles and one thing of yarn."
Dean says, walking into the study, he had a brown roll of yard (mostly used) in one hand and a few different sized pieces of metal. I remember when yarn was first spun, such a creative invention that has such a great impact on humans.
"Let's get started."
We headed to the store and after a few hours of staring at the same four colors, I finally decided.
.
"Uh, Sam?"
"Hey, Cas."
"I made you a pair too..." I say, setting the socks down on the table and sliding them to him. What if he doesn't like them? I guess they're a bit lop sided and one of them is a little wider than the other. I made them blue, Dean said it was the same color as my eyes, with a brown book and white letters. They feel soft and cozy. Like the blanket in the living room of the bunker.
"They're great, Cas. Good job." His face had a genuine smile. I did a good job. On that note, I skip-jog out of the library, on my way to the garage.
The Impala was apparently 'acting up'... I think it was just an excuse for Dean to go work the Impala for a few hours.
"Hello, Dean." I say, standing off to the side a bit, the socks were safely tucked away behind myself.
"Hey there, Cas." Dean says, looking up from his beloved 'baby'. His golden brown hair was tussled up and he was a bit sweaty from working the parts of the impala, making his short stick slightly to his stomach. It was a very pleasing site. Wait, no. I shouldn't think of Dean like that, he's family. I could feel a blush force itself to show on my face. Oh father, I hate how easily you can show emotion on a humans face!
"I-I uh, made you some socks too... I know they're a little amateur but I worked hard on them and hope you like them." I stick my hands out to Dean, shoving the black and silver socks towards him. I attempted to make simplified cars and write 67' on the left sock and impala on the right. Only the words were legible, the cars just looked like gray blobs of yarn.
"That's great, Cas." Dean says, staring down at them in his hands. This is good, he likes them, Sam likes them. "Now we all have our own pair of winter socks now, right?"
"Yeah." I say.
I ended up sitting by the impala as Dean worked on it. The garage was warm enough for me just to stay in sweatpants and a baggy shirt. It's Deans, AC/DC printed on the front. It fit at first, when I first was human, still having Jimmy's build. But now... I've lost a lot of muscle, without all my grace I cannot stay in a time bubble where inactiveness is not an issue. Soon I will have to go on jogs with Sam, to the gym at the bunker. I hope I will be able to help on hunts again once I gain back my strength, of course.
I can tell Sam and Dean want me to stay here though, I am still 'vulnerable' in their eyes. It seems to slip past their minds that I was a warrior of heaven for longer than their puny human brains could even imagine and even in this week state of my continuous life, I could violently slaughter whomever I choose. I have way more years of training, I can sneak up on anything I choose and slit their throats before they even know I did it. But I guess since I still can't brush my teeth correctly or remember to take off my clothes before I shower sometimes or even feed myself properly, they see me as a weak child.
I'll prove myself to them somehow. But for now, I'll stick to sitting here, watching Dean clean the impala and offer small talk.