Looks don't matter
"I am sorry, Dean."
"For what? You saved Sam, hell you probably saved me as well. No need to be sorry."
They fell silent. It had been a weak attempt to start a conversation, just to pass the time while waiting for Sam to show up, who was playing the bait.
It wasn't a dangerous job, some usual hunt, some simple Wendigo, something the Winchesters could deal with between supper and bedtime. Still, the tension was lingering between Castiel and Dean as the hunter gritted his teeth and tried to loosen his shoulder muscles, apparently without reaching any relief. His fingers gripped the flame thrower firmly enough for his knuckles to turn white.
The angel, on the other hand, held onto his little flare gun, not really feeling the need to protect himself, as even an old powerful Wendigo like the one they were hunting was no real danger to him. But he could feel the negative aura emerging from the man in front of him.
"Damn it, what's taking him so long? The sun is almost down."
"I already suggested I could go and..."
"No, you don't. You stay here, where I can keep an eye on you."
It was more than an order, it was a threat, and although the angel could easily overpower the man by his side, he surrendered to the other one's will.
Castiel believed it would have been a better plan if he had gone into the woods instead of Sam, but the older Winchester had insisted that he stayed by his side when the younger brother had proposed to be the bait. Something about his voice had been so irrevocable that Cass had not dared to question that decision.
"So, are you okay?" Those words were less harsh, but far from anything kind.
Castiel stared at the back of the hunter, who didn't even bother to turn around.
"Yes, I'm fine."
For a moment, Dean looked at him over his shoulder and nodded swiftly before staring straight ahead again.
After the explosion, it had taken Cass several weeks to reach out for the boys. Several weeks in which they had assumed that he had died, again.
Every night – and sometimes even during the day – he had heard their prayers: Sam mostly mourning and worried, Dean utterly despaired. He would have needed only one phone call to tell them that he had been alright. One little call would have been enough to end their suffering. But of course it never was that easy.
"And what about the woman?"
To use a phone Castiel needed a body, a vessel, but when he had come back to his senses after being blasted away by the explosion, it had been gone. He had searched the whole world but the body of Jimmy Novak, his body, had vanished.
It had taken him weeks to find a vessel strong enough to contain him.
"She's asleep within. I make sure that she is in no pain."
"And she's okay with being possessed?"
The hunter in front of him sounded gruff. Castiel knew that he had to handle this topic carefully; Dean had always been very sensitive when it came to things like that.
"In the meantime, yes, and I won't occupy her body longer than necessary."
"Okay," was all the other one answered.
After finally finding a vessel, the first thing Castiel had done was calling Dean, but it had been somewhat troublesome to convince the hunter that he was indeed Castiel.
Luckily, Sam had believed him. The younger brother had told the angel they were heading to a new job, a simple Wendigo hunt, and that he should meet them there.
Dean, on the other hand, had been quite weary until they came face to face. He hadn't said a word to Cass, but from when they finally met, the older brother's distrust had not even become a topic. The angel didn't even have to say a word to convince him: the moment Dean Winchester stepped out of his car, he believed Castiel, as simple as that.
Yet that had not changed that the older hunter continued to treat him with distance.
Cass was used to that behavior by the other man. Dean was mad at him, angry. He wasn't sure why, though. Maybe because it had taken him so long to reach out for them. Maybe because he had lost his original vessel, the one Dean had come to know and trust. Those face and voice were the one of a stranger to the hunter.
The angel himself didn't really mind. Being a celestial being, it made no difference to him what kind of vessel he used. Of course his last vessel had become familiar and yes, after years spent in the body of Jimmy Novak and after being rebuild by God himself with that body for his own, it was strange to see that woman look back from the mirror. But he could only assume how that unexpected change affected the Winchesters.
The younger brother seemed to have less problems with it, at least it appeared that way to Cass. Their conversations had been like always while Sam had briefed him about their case. Meanwhile, Dean had been avoiding him. That was the first time they were actually talking with each other, but only because Dean couldn't run away.
Not that Castiel had not tried to speak with him before, but the hunter had his ways if he didn't want to be part of a conversation and it was frustrating to fight against a wall of stern silence.
Still, Dean had agreed to Castiel's offer to join them on their hunt. Not with a grin or appreciation: he had simply pushed the flare gun into his hands. That was why Cass still held onto it. That had been Dean's sign of progress. That had been his way to show that, whatever he had to go through to forgive Cass, for whatever the angel had done wrong, he was working on it.
"Well, I'm glad you're back."
Once again, the hunter didn't even bother to turn around, but his voice was softer than before and Cass couldn't hinder a smile.
A sudden rustle in the nearby woods interrupted any brooding, as the angel turned towards the moving trees while the man beside him tensed up even more, gripping his weapon even tighter.
"Finally," Dean murmured, and Castiel noted the slight worry in his voice. It had taken Sam longer than expected, but eventually he appeared between the trees; a fierce look on his muddy face as he was chased by the monster they were waiting for.
"Dammit! He's not close enough yet," Dean hissed and rushed forward, out of their hiding spot.
"Dean!" He called after the hunter who was already past the protection circle of Anasazi symbols, just at the same time as the younger brother stumbled into it.
Castiel couldn't even follow, before a bright flare of fire lit up their surroundings.
"That's for you, you son of a bitch!" The older hunter yelled while terrifying screams echoed through the woods.
Panting heavily Sam was still kneeling on the ground, glancing over to Cass without saying a word while his older brother killed the Wendigo. With less than a touch on the scalp the angel made sure that his friend wasn't hurt.
"He's gonna burn down the whole forest," the younger Winchester murmured between two breaths.
For a moment, they heard nothing but the screams of the dying creature. Then it became quiet and the flames died out. To their surprise, it didn't seem like the older hunter had caused a forest fire.
"Gee, Sammy, what took you so long? I was getting all tingly here waiting for you to show up."
It was the first time since Castiel was back that he saw Dean grin widely. That evil grin he showed while having fun hunting the monsters in this world. It was dangerous, but also very alive.
"Yeah, next time you go and play bait and I stay in the safe zone." The younger hunter stood up, brushing his hair back. He was covered in sweat, mud, and some strange black slime. "It wasn't even hunting yet. I had to crawl into its cave, on all fours, for it to catch my scent," he complained, pulling pieces of moss and dirt out of his hair.
"Don't blame me. It was your stupid idea to lure that son of a bitch out. I told you I could..."
"It's done, okay? I'm covered in goo and some of it got stuck in my nose. Can we just get back to the hotel? I need a shower. I can't even smell how bad I reek."
"You don't get in my car like that. You can walk to the hotel. It's not that far."
"Are you kidding me? First I have to do all the dirty work while you get to play with your little toys and now you want me to walk all the way back while you drive?"
Castiel watched the brothers quarrel. He liked their discussions, they seemed so effortless, so natural. It was something he envied. Conversations were difficult for him. Especially conversations with humans.
"No, first we need to bury the corpse, don't want the locals to find it, right? And then I want you to walk back."
"Yeah sure, I'm..."
"I could help you with that, Dean."
Both Winchesters looked at him as he offered his help and for a moment nobody said anything.
Dean was about to reply, but Sam was faster. His voice a little bit higher than usual.
"Thanks Cass, that would be great." The tall man placed a hand on his shoulder, smearing mud and black slime over the trench-coat.
Sam's smile seemed somewhat strange to Cass, although he couldn't tell why. It was too straight, too big given the hunter's current mood. Sam continued talking in order to interrupt Dean's upcoming objection. "You know what, Dean? I think that's a good idea. Cass helps you take care of the remains and I go back to the hotel and take a shower."
"Wait a second, Sam. I don't care..."
"In the meantime you two can sort out whatever the hell is bugging you, Dean, because I'm so tired of you bossing me around all day that I preferred to play bait for a Wendigo rather than being around you for another minute."
Both, hunter and angel, became dead silent as the youngest man pointed from one to another, his face grim, his teeth gritted. He looked more dangerous than the monster they had just killed. It was one of those moments when it would be foolish to oppose this man.
"Oh, and when you're done, don't forget to get something to eat, alright? I'm starving."
The younger Winchester was already walking away, waving with an outstretched arm.
"Unbelievable," the older brother mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "Who rattled his cage?"
"I assume he wants to give us some privacy to talk," Castiel answered truthfully, wondering why Dean would talk about Lucifer's cage.
The hunter gave him a sharp look before turning the other way around and heading to the nearby parked car.
"There's nothing to talk about. You're back, that's all that matters, right?"
He followed his friend, who grabbed a shovel out of the trunk.
"Is it, Dean? Because to me it looks like you've been keeping me at a distance ever since I came back and Sam is right, you are even moodier than usual."
The angel grabbed a shovel as well before slamming the trunk shut.
The hunter pursed his lips at the loud noise but didn't say anything about it.
"Your imagination is running wild. I'm a joy to the world as always and I'm not keeping you at a distance," he disagreed while using air quotes and walked away.
Castiel came after him as the hunter was already burying his shovel in the ground.
"I can tell you're lying, Dean. You're trying to avoid me."
"I'm not." The man grumbled without looking up and continued digging.
"Really. So why won't you even look at me?"
For a moment the rhythmic movement of the hunter stopped, before he found his beat again.
"That's ridiculous. Stop talking nonsense and help me. The faster we're done the better. I'm starving as well."
"I don't believe you."
Dean paused again and sighed loudly.
"And I don't care if you do or not. Start digging."
As always, the other man made it clear that he didn't want to talk about the matter and, as always, his ways of showing it were frustrating for the angel. With a loud screech Castiel hit his shovel against Dean's, ripping it almost out of the hunter's hands.
"What the hell? Are you freaking nuts? What do you think you're..."
"It's because of this vessel, isn't it?" He interrupted the hunter's heated complain with a simple question.
For the first time he saw those deep eyes actually stare at him.
"What?"
"You're having trouble getting accustomed to my new vessel."
"What? No, I..."
"Is it because of the physical features? I can assure you that my powers are not weakened or regulated by the body I inhabit."
"This has nothing to do..."
"Or do you simply have an issue with this being a female vessel? I mean, if that's of importance I can search for a fitting male vessel, although it may take some time, but if that would help you to..."
"Dammit Cass! Shut the hell up for a second!"
It was the first time Dean had said his name since he came back.
The hunter threw his shovel to the ground.
"I don't care about your vessel, alright? Damn it!"
Dean turned away and ruffled swiftly with both hands through his hair, panting like he'd been running.
Confusion spread through Cass' mind. If it wasn't the vessel then why was Dean behaving the way he did?
"Dean," he said as soft as he could and placed a hand on the other man's shoulder, but the hunter brushed it off and turned back again.
"Damn it Cass. You really don't get it, right? It's not about your vessel. I couldn't care less about the body you run around in."
The angel slightly tilted his head but remained silent. Dean bit his lip for a moment and pinned his eyes on the ground before looking up again.
"For God's sake, you died Cass! Again! How do you think I would feel?"
"But... but I didn't die."
"Yeah, well I didn't know that. But I prayed, every single day, and you never answered. So what was I supposed to think?"
Both of them were quiet for a heartbeat, before the angel tried to explain himself: "I couldn't reach out for you before finding a vessel. We both know that the one time I tried didn't really work out, did it?"
The hunter threw his hands in the air.
"Are you even listening? That's not what I'm talking about."
"Then what are you talking about?" Cass demanded to know, now much more pressuring.
"I lost you!" Dean's hands grabbed his collar and pulled him slightly forward, bringing their faces closer together than usually.
"What the hell were you thinking, you son of a bitch?! Going in all alone, throwing Sam out like that, not saying a single freaking word to me! Damn it! Why did you think you needed to do some kind of sick suicide mission? How was I supposed to know that you've survived?"
He pointed one finger directly at Cass' face.
"You know what I thought? I thought that you had sacrificed yourself for us, asshole. I thought you died because I couldn't come up with a better plan against those dick angels. I thought it was my..."
"Dean, would you please calm..."
"Shut the hell up! I'm not done talking! You don't do that, understand? Not to your friends, your family, not to me! You don't just go down guns blazing like that, got that? Not on my watch!"
"I knew what I was doing. I knew I would survive."
"But I didn't!" Dean almost screamed, his left hand still gripping Castiel's collar shakily. However his following words were much quieter, almost fragile "You know what we have lost, who Sam and I had to bury or burn. How could you think for even one second that we would be okay with losing you, that I would be okay with losing you?"
Cass didn't say a word.
"Man, you can't just do that, okay? I can't lose you again. I need you, dammit."
The hunter let go of him and turned around.
After another moment of silence the angel searched for the right words to say.
"Dean, I… I am sorry."
"Damn right, you better are", the other one answered while picking up his shovel.
"At that time it seemed like the right thing to do," he insisted.
"Yeah, you always say that," Dean replied and started digging again, "now come on. Let's get this done before it's completely dark."
Slowly Cass pushed his shovel into the ground.
"So, are we okay now?" He asked after a few seconds, startled upon the sudden change of topic.
The hunter sighed. "Yes, we're good. But don't ever do that again or I will kill you myself."
The angel couldn't hinder a slight confusion.
"That seems oddly counterproductive to me."
"Just shut up and keep digging."
In silence they completed their task before heading for the Impala, which was patiently waiting for them.
Cass sat down in the passenger seat while Dean turned the music on, a clear message that he didn't want to talk.
So they drove quietly, the loud music not really able to drown their earlier conversation while the night rose.
After a quick stop to pick up some food, they drove to the hotel where the hunters stayed.
"Dean," he said as the other one attempted to get out of the car.
"Cass. We talked this through, right? So let's get going."
He grabbed his friend's shoulder again to insist that he stayed, so Dean sighed deeply and turned around.
"When you said that you don't care about my vessel..." he didn't know how to continue, how to ask a question he didn't even know.
"Yeah?" Dean asked further, tilting his head.
But Cass was still searching for words. He wasn't sure what he wanted to know from the hunter, his own feelings confused him.
After another second the hunter slightly shook his head.
"Like I said Cass. I don't really care about it. I'm not super happy about an innocent person being involved, but no matter your looks, you're Cass and that's all that matters, right?"
He smiled. It wasn't that dangerous grin he showed earlier that night, it was that gentle smile he so seldom shared.
"Come on now. Before the food gets cold." Dean grabbed the bag from Cass' lap and got out of the car.
"Aren't sandwiches eaten cold?"
The angel followed the man through the parking lot with a foreign emotion in his chest. He couldn't quite grasp it. Feelings were new to him, he had lived thousands of years without them, so it confused him that after what Dean had said it still felt this way. He couldn't name it, but for sure it was a negative emotion.
"What took you two so long?" The younger brother greeted them as they came in. He was sitting in front of his laptop, tipping furiously, a towel around his shoulder keeping his wet hair from draining his plaid shirt.
"Well, some of us had work to do." The older Winchester replied coldly.
"Yeah, while you two sweethearts have been working I got a text from some lowlife demon," Sam stated and threw his phone towards Dean, who caught it while letting go of the food-bag which got saved by Cass.
"Got your little angel. If you want him back, we could make a deal, Peter." Dean read out loud. "What kind of demon calls himself Peter?"
"That's not really what this is about," Sam mentioned while Cass gave him the food he just saved.
"Yeah right, what angel could he be… oh."
"Yes, that's what I thought, too."
Slightly confused, the angel took the phone Dean offered him. The display showed a quite familiar body of a man in a trench-coat, obviously lifeless.
"This is..." me, he was about to say but paused.
"So it seems like you couldn't find your old body, because this Peter hid it somewhere," Sam explained, still tipping, loud enough to drown the unfinished sentence of the angel.
"And he tries to bait us with a dead vessel of an angel?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. He sat down at one of the beds, taking the second sandwich from Cass' bag, and started eating. "How stupid does he think we are? Like we would fall for that."
"I guess he heard about his death. The explosion was in the news and everything. I'm sure everybody connected to the supernatural heard about what happened and it wasn't like you were even trying to be discreet about that whole thing," Sam replied, giving the angel a long meaningful look, which only startled Cass because he had no clue what Sam wanted to tell him with his eyes.
Dean coughed over his sandwich.
"And what are you doing over there? Writing some poetry?"
Sam rolled his eyes.
"I was working," he repeated while unwrapping his sandwich. "So get this: it seems like Peter isn't one of the smartest kids," the younger brother explained, "I could trace his phone back. It's not so far from here. Two or three hours to drive."
"So?" Dean asked.
"So what?" Sam himself asked a little bit of guard, but the older brother stared at the angel who was standing kind of lost in the middle of the room.
"So it's your body, Cass. What do you wanna do? Get it back or are you fine like that?"
Slightly surprised about that question he turned from Dean to Sam who looked at him with the same questioning face, not helping him to make a decision.
It had never occurred to him that there could be a choice, even less that he was the one to decide. As an angel he had always taken the first available vessel that was capable of containing him.
Over the centuries, the bloodline of Jimmy Novak had turned out to be the best, but not the only one.
It was unusual for an angel to switch vessels simply because of convenience, not even talking about preference.
"I mean, there's nobody at home to invite you in, so could you even get it back?" Dean mumbled between two bites.
He took another look at that picture.
After God had resurrected him and had recreated Jimmy's body for him, without having a human soul to inhabit it at first, it had become his body, not a vessel like the one he was occupying right now. It was stronger, it was more.
"It's my body," he said after a moment, "I want it back."
Yes, that was the feeling he had been unable to understand.
"Okay," Dean answered swallowing two bites at once, "if it's possible and you want to, let's go." He licked his fingers and crumbled the empty wrapping paper.
"You want to go now?" Sam asked. "As in, right now?"
"Yeah, why not. The faster we get there the faster this woman over there can get back to her normal life."
The younger brother sighed deeply, before closing his laptop.
"Fine, but I need to sleep. I'm tired."
"I could drive", Castiel offered.
The brothers shared a look.
"No," they said in unison before getting up and packing their stuff.
Reclaiming Castiel's body was easy. The drive over was probably the most difficult task with both Winchesters being fairly tired but refusing to let the angel drive the car.
The demon turned out to be part of the weak and stupid section, one who was cut out to be a nameless minion or cannon fodder.
While the boys took care of him, Castiel recovered his own lifeless body. The moment he had touched the cold flesh he knew that he could return, as that body was now his own. So he had left the woman, who had been kind enough to host him, and returned to his former self.
The whole thing went down in less than ten minutes.
Afterwards, they drove the woman home, Sam gave her some money as a sign of gratitude and Dean warned her not to 'lease' her body to another angel again, because 'those winged dicks' didn't care about returning it 'in one piece'.
They drove home in complete silence. Cass in the backseat, wondering while the only person, who was not in need of sleep, was not allowed to drive. Sam behind the drivers wheel, turning down the volume of the music, and Dean in shotgun, his head against the window, sleeping peacefully.
More than one time he could see the younger Winchester looking at him in the rear mirror, but as Sam said nothing Cass remained silent as well.
He tried to ignore that strange feeling of happiness in his chest. He didn't know why it felt so good to be back in this body. As an angel he shouldn't feel attached to a certain vessel and as long as the vessel was able to hold him it shouldn't matter which vessel it was.
"So, you and Dean talked?" Sam finally asked after a while, breaking through Cass' brooding.
"If by 'talked' you mean getting yelled at and apologizing for doing nothing wrong, then yes, we talked." He answered in a dry voice.
The driver laughed softly.
"Well, that's his way of dealing with emotions. I mean, thanks for saving my life and I'm really glad you're back, but what happened wasn't easy for us, you know? It wasn't easy for him."
Sam kept his eyes on him instead of the road and it became almost uncomfortable.
"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I'm just saying..."
The hunter looked back at the street in front of him, interrupting himself.
"He was in a pretty bad shape, you know? I think this is the first time he's able to sleep without drinking himself halfway to death."
The angel didn't answer.
He had done what he had needed to and he didn't even die, and even if he would have, he was a soldier, he always had been ready to die to fulfill an order. Now he was maybe without order, but he had found something much more important to put his life on the line for.
And now, those people he was willing to die for told him not to do anything that might put his life in danger, while facing death themselves every other day, while being much weaker beings than he was?
Those two brothers never ceased to confuse him.
They drove through the night. At some point, Dean woke up and ordered Sam to change seats while turning the volume back on, and it didn't take long for Sam to fall asleep.
Dean and Cass didn't talk, but the angel watched the human and tried to engrave his face into his memory, as often when he saw that man. From his point of view – and given that the darkness was still surrounding them – it was impossible to count the many freckles on Dean's face, something he never got tired of doing, but it didn't stop him from outlining the hunter's facial features in his mind or from watching the passing lights color his hair in different shades.
Every now and then, the man behind the wheel would look at Cass through the rear mirror, mouth halfway open, but in the end he never said anything, so the hunter drove on, fully aware that the eyes of the angel were placed upon him all the time.
The sun had left the horizon quite some time ago when they finally reached the bunker.
Dean woke Sam up as they drove into the garage and everything seemed like it was returning back to normal.
Cass was back, had his body back, another successful hunt, it seemed like things were going well for once.
After the boys had unpacked their stuff, Dean went into the kitchen, where Cass was already waiting with two cups of coffee.
The hunter took one with a questioning look but said nothing, before he started cooking bacon and eggs.
"Hey guys, I'll head out. You need anything?" The younger brother showed up in the door frame.
"What? We just came home. Why would you leave again?" Dean muttered without even looking up.
"Because some demon named Peter had my number. God knows who gave it to him. I need a new phone."
The older brother shrugged his shoulders.
"Suit yourself. Want some bacon to go?"
"No thanks, I guess I get something healthy for breakfast, you know, like fruits."
"Hey, protein is important, too."
"Yeah, yeah."
Sam grabbed the other cup of coffee, nodded swiftly at Cass with an excusing smile and headed for the door.
"Pie!" Dean called after him, "get me some pie, will ya?"
The only answer he got was the loud closing of the front door.
In silence, Castiel watched Dean cook his breakfast. He seemed to be in a good mood: drinking his coffee, humming quietly before casting a quick glance at the angel and clearing his throat uncomfortably.
"You should really stop doing that," he said to Cass as he turned around and put his plate of breakfast on the table.
"What?" the angel asked surprised.
"This," the hunter replied and directed his fork in Cass' general direction, "this staring thing. It's creepy, you know?"
"I enjoy watching you cook. It makes me happy to see you participate in common human behavior patterns," he replied simply.
"Like I said it's creepy," the other one insisted after a second and walked over to the counter. But Cass could see the subtle smile the hunter showed while facing the coffee machine.
"So, how does it feel to be back, I mean in your own body?" Dean swiftly changed the subject.
"Good," he answered and after a moment of thoughts he added: "This body feels actually quite different from occupying any other vessel."
"Yeah, I know."
Confused he watched the other man coming back to the table.
"How would you know? You're a human, you never needed to possess another one's body."
Laughing slightly the other one shook his head.
"That's not what I meant," he replied with a grin.
"Then what did you mean?" Castiel asked further as the other one sat down and started eating.
"You wanna try some bacon?"
This question surprised him. He thought about that offer.
"No, but I would like you to explain further what you meant."
"Oh Cass." The other one sighed in annoyance. "When people switch the topic that obviously, they don't want to talk about it."
"So you were not actually going to let me try your bacon?"
Dean coughed into his coffee.
"No, that's not… If you want some bacon you can try it."
"But I don't want bacon."
"Fine, you don't have to take it."
They stared each other for a long-stretched second before the hunter turned to his food.
Castiel watched him eat.
"Yet you still haven't answered my question. What did you mean by 'you know'?"
"So persistent," the hunter mumbled under his breath.
"I didn't mean it like that, okay?" he said in-between two bites. "It's just like I get it, okay? I know how it is to feel like you're not yourself, although you're still kind of you, just not completely, you know? But you have this strange feeling in your gut until everything turns back to normal, until everything is like it's supposed to be. Been there, done that. So I guess I understand that feeling."
Dean finished his plate quickly and brought it to the sink. His words made little sense to Castiel and yet he somewhat understood.
"You didn't look comfortable in that woman's body, maybe because she was still in there, still alive, I don't know, but you were different, acted different and it wasn't really you and now you're back to being Cass, the Cass we know, so yeah..." He didn't finish his sentence.
The angel tried to comprehend what the other one was telling him.
"So you lied to me," he mumbled as he stood up as well, "when you told me that you didn't care about my body? You do prefer this one."
"Didn't say that." The hunter grumbled while cleaning plate and pan.
"But you just said that in that other vessel I wasn't the real me, the Cass you know, so..."
"Cass, don't overanalyze every single word I say. I'm just happy you're back and everything worked out, okay? I already told you that I don't care about what body you're in."
He slowly folded his arms while watching the other one clean up.
"I just want to understand, Dean."
"There is nothing to understand," the other one laughed halfheartedly.
"So why did you say it?"
"Oh, for God's sake!" Dean turned around, almost angry. "Fine, I prefer this vessel, you're happy now?"
"Then why didn't you tell me before? Why did you lie?"
"I did not lie, Cass. For me it would be fine even if you were a talking dog. Like I said I don't care about that. But you looked like you felt trapped in that woman's body, you seemed happier to be in your own. So yes I prefer it, but only because you seem to like it, you idiot."
"That doesn't make sense."
With another deeply regretting sigh the hunter turned for his coffee.
"Sometimes you're just so complicated, man. It's not that difficult. I simply want you to be happy and that you don't end up dead. Is that too much to ask for?"
Cass found himself again speechless as the other one passed him and gripped his shoulder tightly.
"I need you, Cass. And I can't have you leaving again, okay?"
He stared at Dean who was looking straight ahead, not searching for any eyecontact.
"I don't know if I could handle your death for another time. So please, stay with me."
It was this moment when he finally understood and a gentle smile crossed his lips.
"Of course, if that's what you wish. Then I will stay with you."
The shadow of a smile passed Deans grim face as he met Cass' view.
"You wanna watch a movie?" he asked, still holding onto Cass' shoulder, now looking less serious. "I know a good one. It's about cowboys."
Confused about the sudden change of topic Cass tilted his head.
"You like cowboys," he stated, not sure what else to say.
"Yes, I do," the other one grinned foolishly, "and after that movie you will as well."
Deciding it was easier to give in than to threaten a fight about meaningless entertainment, he nodded and followed Dean out of the kitchen.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you change the topic because you didn't want to deepen the previous conversation?"
A moment of silence.
"You're getting better at this, Cass. So let's not talk about it."