A Dark Path

Untitled Part 6

Cas spent the night in the bunker's library. Sam had offered him one of the empty rooms upstairs, the one that was right across from Dean's room, but the angel couldn't bring himself to escape into its confines until morning. Anyways, the Men of Letters had certainly collected interesting texts, and Cas found himself enjoying perusing the book shelves. 

When morning did come he moved towards the kitchen, wanting to do something nice for the brothers before they came downstairs. Having watched Dean cook on occasion, and having watched a few cooking shows on his own, Cas gathered the items he would need and started on his mission. Omelets seemed easy enough, and if he added meat into it, it might be something Dean would be willing to eat, as well as be healthy enough for Sam to digest. He began to get out all the ingredients from the fridge, pleasantly surprised to find that it was almost full with different types of food and drinks. Then he started cracking the eggs into the pan and was on his way to surprising the hunters with the new skill he had learned. He suppressed a  smile at the thought of how Dean and Sam would show their gratitude. Maybe Dean would even hug him (he sometimes did that when he was extremely happy to see someone or that someone had been especially good to him). 

What ended up happening was Dean racing into the kitchen, turning off the stove, and glaring at the angel. "What the heck Cas?"

Cas frowned. "I was making breakfast."

Sam groggily walked into the kitchen, freezing in the doorway at the sight before him. 

"You were trying to make breakfast?" Dean sounded incredulous. He continued to glare at Cas, the angel not knowing where it was he had gone wrong but feeling miserable because of it. Then, all of a sudden, he burst into laughter. "Uh, man, you didn't have to try and make us food you know. We can make our own."

The angel's frown was now more of a pout than anything. "I wanted to be of use, and was under the impression that food made you happy."

Sam tried to hold back a laugh, and quickly walked away before Dean had the chance to glare at him as well. Dean turned back to Cas, sighing heavily before taking the pan over the trashcan and dumping its content. "I really appreciate the effort, Cas, but...maybe you need to learn how to cook first before you try anything on your own."

"I do not understand where I went wrong..."

"Well, first off, you don't leave the shells in when cooking eggs. Second, you don't have the stove on high and allow the smoke to flow outside the kitchen. Thirdly," he made a disgusted grimace at the other ingredients on the counter, "you don't put hamburger meat, pancake mix, and lettuce into an omelet."

"Oh."

"It's fine, Cas." Dean's voice was gruff, but kind. "Do you want to learn how to cook something right now?" The angel nodded eagerly. "Alright. How about pancakes, huh, since you already have the mix out? And, uh...maybe bacon. Yea, definitely bacon."

So then Cas was treated to watching Dean cook rather than do it himself, and the angel had to admit he liked the change of circumstance despite the fact that he was disappointed in himself for not being able to do something for the Winchesters. There was little time to wallow in self-loathing, though, with Dean giving him instructions and patiently explaining to Cas what needed to be done. Cas observed and listened attentively. 

At one point Dean allowed Cas to man the bacon, leaning over his shoulder to watch the progress. Dean was practically against his back, and Cas was surprised he was having trouble breathing. Sure that the bacon was done, he turned off the stove, and turned around. Him and Dean were less than an inch apart from one another. "Dean..."

The hunter's breath was on his face, and the heat of it was an oddly pleasant sensation. Compelled by an unknown force, Cas leaned further forward, careful of Dean's own responses. Dean stayed perfectly still, allowing the angel further into his space. There was a darkness to his green eyes that Cas had never recognized before, but was sure didn't belong to the demon part of himself. 

"Food ready?" Sam asked, standing in the doorway, a smirk on his lips. Dean abruptly moved away, hardening his features and stiffening his posture. "Yea, yea." He gathered the plates they had filled with pancakes and bacon, and practically stormed out. On the way, he shoved Sam with his shoulder. "Bitch."

"Jerk."