A Dark Path

Untitled Part 11

Castiel woke up sore the next morning. His back was sore, and his neck had a creak in it. Straightening, he tried to right the muscles of his vessel, getting out of the awkward position of sleeping sitting up. 

"Mornin' sunshine," a husky voice greeted Cas' sleep-ridden consciousness. 

"Hmph."

"I thought you had your grace back. Why were you sleeping?"

The question woke Cas instantly, realizing all at once what had happened, remembering what had happened. Dean had requested that he stay with him, and Cas had readily followed through. For an indistinguishable amount of time Cas had watched the hunter sleep, as he had once done the first two years of their acquaintance. It was hard at first, witnessing the struggle Dean had simply trying to fall asleep, but once he did fall into consciousness, the tension that had weighed Dean down gradually loosened. Mesmerized, Cas had contentedly watched the slow raise and fall of a strong chest. However, apparently somewhere during the early morning, Cas had slipped into an uncomfortable sleep himself.

"The grace is not my own," Cas stated, forcing himself into his usual stoic demeanor. "At times I require a bit more to replenish the energy." Though he would have preferred to replenish that energy away from the Winchesters.

Dean frowned, his brows furrowed. "Why didn't you say something?"

"It was not of import."

"Bullshit. Of course it's of import. How much do you have to replenish? What happens if you can't replenish? What's going on with the grace that you have then? What does it mean that you have someone else's grace rather than your own?"

Surprising by the onslaught of questioning, Cas inspected the hunter critically. "The Mark is considerably light today. How are you feeling?"

"Don't change the subject!"

Cas tilted his head, but Dean was having none of that, and demanded his questions be answered immediately. Sighing as if Dean was the one being ridiculous, he explained, "Sometimes I require sleep. Maybe a drink. That's it. Quite easy to replenish." The last question was harder to respond to truthfully and not add any burdens to an already disheartening soul. Thoughtfully, Cas replied, "Having another's grace is strange and it makes certain functions difficult, but I don't believe it's anything that needs to be worried about at length."

Green eyes were in slits, glaring suspiciously at the angel. "So you're okay then?"

"Of course."

Dean nodded, though his eyes gave away that he wasn't entirely convinced. Almost as if in a rush, he kicked his feet off of the bed and pushed himself up. "I'mma go make breakfast."

It was a little late for breakfast actually, but Dean probably wouldn't have care either way. Brusquely, Dean slammed his door shut, leaving Cas alone in the hunter's room. His footsteps could be heard all the way until he got to the kitchen. 

Not sure what the hunter exactly wanted of him, or what was expected of him, Cas slowly made his way of Dean's room and into the hallway. 

"Hey," Sam was in the midst of his path. Fully dressed and seemingly prepared for the day, Sam walked up to him a little wary. "Haven't seen you already. What's up?"

Cas realized that the younger Winchester often found the angel in the library in the morning for as long as he had been staying at the bunker. Ever since coming to stay with the brothers, with no hunts to be taken care of, Cas hadn't needed that much sleep. Not like he had needed when tracking down rogue angels with Hannah. So, in Sam's perspective, that had given the impression that Cas would be well off with what they had. 

Deciding to be as truthful as possible without betraying the Dean (who he was sure wouldn't appreciate Sam knowing that he had asked Cas to watch over him last night), cas replied simply, "I needed a bit of rest."

Sam's brows furrowed at the statement and gave the same response as his brother had done just moments before. Word for word, Cas gave the same answer. Unfortunately, Sam was not as easily deterred as his brother, and the concerned furrow and suspicious gaze lingered. 

Thankfully, before the younger Winchester could press the issue, Dean called from the kitchen almost a little cheerfully, "Breakfast's ready!" Ignoring Sam's scowl (what Dean would have deemed a 'bitch face'), Cas quickly followed the voice and sat down at the dining table. Though he didn't need to eat as much as the brothers, and that he was sure he wouldn't die if he didn't eat, he had begun to find it enjoyable to join the brothers in these rare moments of domestic familiarity. That, and Dean was surprisingly a wonderful cook. This morning Dean had made pancakes with scrambled eggs and bacon on the side. 

As they ate in a mostly quiet companionship, Cas noticed two things. One, Sam was giving his brother a strange look, an eyebrow raised in a silent question. He seemed to think Dean's behavior a little off, but wasn't sure exactly what that was or why it would occur. Second, Dean was intentionally ignoring Cas' and Sam's eyes. 

When they were done eating, Dean hurriedly  cleaned up, turning down any aid of help. 

Then Sam's raised eyebrow was directed at the angel, which Cas wasn't entirely sure he appreciated. He liked the younger Winchester very much, but sometimes Sam could be nosy when it really wasn't any of his business, or made it difficult to keep things to himself. "Did Dean seem different to you today?"

Blue eyes squinted slightly, pondering the question. "He seemed quite cheery."

The frown deepened and the furrow strictly stayed. "Which seemed odd, don't you think?" It was whispered, hoping not to alert Dean that they were talking about him. "I mean, he isn't even this cheery in the morning in general. What's got him acting like this, during a time..." He didn't finish his statement, unable to say. "I can't help but feel like this is the calm before the storm."

It was a statement Cas had heard from Sam before. Before, he had tried to ignore Sam's depressing comments, but now knowing what Dean was actually hiding from them, he was on the verge of agreeing. 

Speaking of what Dean was hiding, he was taking too long in the kitchen again. 

Slowly, uncertainly, Cas suggested that they might find a hunt to take Dean. 

"What?" Sam was incredulous. "No. You weren't here the last few times we went on a hunt. You didn't see what the Mark was doing to him!"

Carefully, Cas tried to explain without giving Dean away. "But I am here now." Sam stood with his arms across his chest, unimpressed. "You mentioned that you wanted me to stay with you two because you think I can help the Mark." He watched Sam's face critically. "So maybe I went on the hunt with you and Dean, things would be a little better. We could take a small hunt. Something simple." Still, Sam didn't seem convinced. "I don't thinking being cramped in the bunker day and in and day out is good for him. I think, if this were to continue, it might upset the Mark more so than if Dean went back to his normal routine."

Sam frowned. "I don't know."

"After all," Cas was sure he was on the edge of winning this argument, "We're not just trying to contain the Mark, right? We're trying to help Dean as a whole. To save him from this. Keeping him inside is not healthy."

Grumpily, Sam huffed. "Fine. Let me find a case. It's going to be an easy one, though. A ghost; nothing else.

"I think that would wise."

"Yea. Okay. I'll get on that."