Downtime

A/N: From the Chocolate Box Exchange on AO3, written as a treat for kisahawklin to the pairing Sam/Dean/Cas inspired by their prompts of everyone 'being wrapped in blankets and fed cookies and hot chocolate' combined with 'all three of them figuring out a relationship together'.

Original A/N: I was half tempted to title this Attack of the Fluffmonster, but I figured with a canon like SPN it might get taken too literally. That's a whole different fic.

As Sam walks into the kitchen, Dean is standing over the stove with a pan of hot chocolate heating up under his stirring hand, three mugs already set out on the counter top on a tray. He doesn't look up at the sound of Sam's footsteps, but a subtle line of tension draws across his back – just enough for someone who knows him really well to notice.

Sam moves over to the table to shuffle through the bag with the cookies they brought home from the bakery in town. It's more to give him something of his own to focus on than anything. The fallout of the latest Winchester disaster is currently in progress out there in the world and the two of them are still working through all that's happened. The silence stretches interminably as Dean fusses with the pan.

Finally, Sam can't help but break it. "Do you think Cas is really going to be okay? I mean, he's basically been hiding out here for a week now. If we had the Netflix hooked up in all the rooms I'm not sure we'd ever even see him."

Dean's shoulders move up and down once in a fast shrug, and for a moment Sam thinks that might be the only response he's going to get. Maybe removing the mark is going to have terrible consequences – it has certainly already had terrible consequences for the people of Superior, Nebraska, and Cas is still clearly suffering through some fallout as well. However, it's no worse than any of the long list of things each of them has done for the other, Sam figures. If they're going to get through this, they have to do what they always do and move on.

Sam is broken back out of his own thoughts by the sound of Dean's voice. "He has to be."

With a flick of a wrist, Dean turns the stove off and begins pouring the mixture into the mugs. Noticing the marshmallows are still sitting next to the bag of cookies, Sam pulls them out and cuts them open. He moves over to stand near where Dean is, holding the bag as his brother continues fixating on pouring even amounts of the hot cocoa. Perhaps a little more intently than is required for the simple task.

Almost as if the words are being involuntarily pulled out of him, Dean speaks slowly, still not turning his attention away from the mugs. "Most of the time I still think of Cas as that badass invulnerable angel I met right after he pulled me out of hell, you know? I guess I just don't like having to remember that with the kind of enemies we have he's just as breakable as we are."

"I don't like thinking about it either, but at least he's here and safe now," Sam offers.

As Sam moves in with the marshmallows, Dean finally looks up to catch his eyes. There's something a little worried lurking in the lines of his face that stops Sam, waiting to see what is going to come out now. "I'm glad the mark's gone. I'm still a little pissed at you, but I am glad it's gone. You worked with Rowena and put everyone in harm's way for me, though, because of my stupid choice. If Cas doesn't bounce back from this, that's on us."

"It was my choice," Cas' gravelly voice comes from behind them and both brothers turn their heads simultaneously at the sound to see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Sam hadn't heard his approach and he's pretty sure Dean didn't, either. "I'd do it all over again for either of you. Even if the spell had never worn off."

"Cas," Dean starts, but he's interrupted before he can get any further.

"No, Dean. If you and Sam have taught me one thing it is not to give up on each other. You did what I knew you would; you found Rowena and fixed the spell. I will be fine and the price was worth it."

The two Winchesters exchange a speaking look of doubt, but neither really wants to have this confrontation right now. That's why Sam steps back so Dean can move through with the tray of cocoa and trails after with the bag of cookies. Cas steps out of the doorway and follows behind them back to Sam's room, which is where Charlie had hooked up the Netflix setup for them. The surge of grief at remembering that detail doesn't take Sam by surprise anymore, they've already lost too many friends for it not to be far too familiar to be hit out of nowhere with the emotion.

Metatron had downloaded a whole bewildering slew of pop cultural knowledge into Cas' head, but as Dean has been insisting, it's not the same as actually watching everything for yourself. Plus, Dean didn't exactly trust Metatron's taste in stories. When they'd had that last pizza night in the bunker, there had been some enthusiastic talk of giving Cas a real introduction to movie watching. After, it had just been one more thing pushed aside for the latest hunt or the latest apocalyptic catastrophe, whichever came first. The worrisome way Cas had holed up in the bunker, Sam suggested to Dean they go ahead and try having a few movie nights together. It wouldn't be as helpful as actually getting the angel to talk, Sam was sure, but it was a first step to something besides hiding away. With the recent stresses over the mark and Rowena's spell and the current looming catastrophe of having freed the Darkness without the first clue what it is, where it is, or what it will do? They could all use the downtime while they can afford to take it, not just Cas.

Sam drops the cookies where they'll be in easy reach and grabs the remote while Dean passes out the mugs and the three of them settle in for the duration. There's only really the bed and one chair in the room as far as seating. Cas heads straight for the bed where the old gray blanket he seems to have adopted from one of the other abandoned bedrooms is still in a jumble from where he was before he presumably decided to see what was taking them so long in the kitchen. Dean takes the chair just as decisively, leaving Sam to end up on what space remains of the bed on Cas' other side.

Sometime well after the cocoa is long gone and the cookies have been moved off the bed and forgotten, Sam feels a slight pressure on his side and turns his attention just far enough that way to see Cas has slumped over so he's leaning into Sam, still burrowed into the depths of the blanket. It isn't until he notices Dean shifting strangely and turns his head a little to actually look that he realizes one of Cas' hands is also reaching out from under the blankets to rest on Dean's calf where Dean had propped his crossed legs up over the corner of the bed. Dean shifts a little more, and Sam half expects Dean to pull out of reach, but he doesn't. Sam mostly turns back to watching the screen, but he does note out of the corner of his eye that Dean is spending as much time watching Cas' reactions as he is actually watching the movie.

He starts to feel his eyes drooping a little not too much later, and shifts around so he can lay back in a more comfortable position. Cas makes a vague noise of discontent, and Sam pointedly shifts again so Cas can maintain contact with his side. Eventually Dean yawns ostentatiously and mutters something about turning in. Sam nudges Cas in the side a minute or two after Dean has ambled his way out of Sam's room.

"Hey, man, I'm pretty beat, too."

Cas turns a blank expression to him. Sometimes Sam is surprised how well Cas has managed to adapt to acting like a human, and sometimes – like right now – he's conversely surprised at how bad the angel can be at taking a hint. Awkwardly, Sam adds, "So if you wouldn't mind ..."

"Oh, of course. My apologies." Cas gathers up the blanket and slowly makes his own way out of Sam's room. He stops at the open doorway as if he's going to say something else. After another long silence where Cas just gives one of his thousand yard stares, finally the angel makes his way out and down the hall towards the previously empty room the Winchesters had suggested he take over. The only difference made since he moved in was to dress the bed, and that had been Sam's doing when he had needed something to distract himself and was trying to feel helpful that first night, before Cas had been cured and they were still just hoping they'd be able to help him.

The next night they end up in much the same positions, except instead of cocoa and cookies, Dean passes out beers and Sam brings in some popcorn and they're watching some Netflix original show that had caught Cas' eye now they've made their way through a few of the movies on Dean's watch-with-Cas list. The rest of the week progresses in much the same way, with only the snacks and what's displaying on the screen changing. In one way, it's nice. He and Dean have made less and less time to just hang out like this as the years have gone by and their burdens have gotten bigger and harsher. Part of it was time, and part of it was growing distance between them after all the bloody water under their bridge – and Cas has never really hung around long enough for much of anything but missions.

There's a little voice in the back of Sam's head that says this isn't enough. They really do need to talk a few things through for once instead of just letting them fester. They have to get out of this rut they keep running into over and over again and dragging Cas down into, too. Sam, however, is enough of a realist – or at least he's learned the hard way - that trying to get Dean to open up a minute before he's ready is only going to make him clam up harder. And Cas, well, he's half afraid if he pushes Cas the angel will up and leave the bunker for parts unknown. So he tries to ignore the thoughts and simply enjoy what they can manage.

Which is not to say that nothing at all changes through their time spent together. Touch has always been a bit of a weird thing between he and Dean. When they've been injured, when they've been worried, he and Dean have always reached for each other. And they've always stood further inside one another's space than seems normal to outsiders. Still, most of the time, they never quite touch. They stand very close, but they never quite touch. Sam isn't sure if that's a metaphor for something or another strangeness imposed by their way of life.

Cas, however, is his own different story. After that first night, it becomes pretty apparent Cas is looking for the physical reassurance of touch. Sam isn't quite sure why and Dean is being weird and defensive about it, sometimes acting like he barely tolerates the contact – and yet he still manages to always place himself right within the angel's reach. Sam doesn't bother playing coy about it; he figures if Cas needs it, well, the guy has been through a rough time lately, and that's the least he can offer.

It shouldn't really change much, but it kind of changes everything. Maybe Cas doesn't know any better, maybe it's some angel thing they can't understand. Whatever it is, well, it's been a long time since Sam touched anyone very much outside of violence. Once they start, he finds Cas isn't the only one reaching out just to have pleasant skin-on-skin contact for once. Not just to Cas, but to Dean, too. They're not, like, holding hands or anything. Dean's head would probably explode. Still, they sit closer where their legs or their sides actually touch, they brush against each other coming and going through the bunker, they throw an arm around one another casually for no reason at all. Something that has been a rare and strange occurrence reserved for near death experiences becomes utterly commonplace.

Late one night, after they've all turned in, Sam wakes up with the need to visit the bathroom down the hall. He stumbles a little bit over his own sleep-heavy limbs and has to brush his hair out of his eyes a couple of times. After taking care of business, he's almost back to his own room when he hears the vague sound of voices coming from the kitchen. He can't make out the words, but he recognizes the timbres, so he's more curious than worried even if Cas and Dean both sound a little tense.

"Why do you so desperately want to be alone?" He hears as he comes close enough. His feet are in stockings and make no sound on the floor of the hallways and he doesn't feel the need to step heavier to announce his presence.

"I don't! God, Cas, I don't."

"Then why do you insist on distancing yourself constantly, Dean? Sam and I are here for you. I can feel that you -"

"Stop, just – stop, Cas." There's a pause, and the sound of boot-heavy footsteps and Sam is expecting Dean to confront him in the hallway, but they stop and Dean's voice sounds again. "You're an angel, man. Maybe they didn't clue you in, but this is not normal."

"Yes, that's true. You and Sam have always been extraordinary."

Dean laughs, but as it often has been these last few years, it's not truly a sound of amusement. "Sam cares about normal. He always has."

Sam starts forward to protest, and physically collides with Dean just outside the doorway to the kitchen. Dean glances into his eyes for only a few seconds, considering his expression. It's probably just enough to realize Sam didn't know what they'd been talking about, because his eyes narrow just a second in contemplation before Dean is pushing his way past to head down to his room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn't slam it, but the sound is decisive nonetheless.

"What was that all about," Sam asks Cas, stepping forward to see the angel loitering in the middle of the room, still staring forlornly after Dean.

Cas doesn't physically jump, but he clearly startles by the widening of his eyes at Sam's appearance. It's only a momentary change before he turns his attention to Sam. "Not important," Cas says, but he looks away and won't meet Sam's eye as he says it.

"Cas, c'mon. If something is going on, I think I deserve to know."

"Of course, Sam, but there is nothing – at least nothing new, going on."

"So something old is going on then, I take it," Sam says. Clearly Cas doesn't want to say what the conversation was about and it's late and while he's wide awake now, he's still too tired to make sense of anything too complicated. And Dean's issues, as much as his brother pretends not to have any, are always complicated. "Whatever. It's too late for me to deal with this now."

Sam wants to entirely dismiss the incident from his mind, but Dean's words about him echo in the back of Sam's head for a few days. It's true Sam spent a great deal of his formative years yearning desperately to be normal, and he can't say he hasn't also had such feelings more recently. Still, there's a difference between wishing your life could be different than what it currently is in an abstract way and not being content with what you have. Sure, some things could be better, but how many people in the world would not say that was true of their own lives?

Sam has almost forgotten about the middle of the night weirdness when it comes back up again. Somewhere along the line, Dean figured out that Metatron, for reasons only comprehensible to Metatron, had put the reissued version of the original Star Wars movies into Cas' head. Naturally, his brother found this not just unacceptable, but a real travesty that had to be rectified as soon as possible.

He's off in his own thoughts, only half paying attention to the movie he's already sat through plenty of times thanks to Dean. So he doesn't actually register what Cas is saying beyond vaguely being aware his voice is speaking. Dean's much sharper, "Don't start this again, Cas," is what pulls his attention back.

"Even for the time I spent as one of you, I still cannot understand humans. Why does the form matter so much? Love is a beautiful part of God's creation."

"There are different kinds of love, Cas. Some of them are pretty messed up."

Cas tilts his head and squints. "Nothing that is truly an expression of love can be wrong. It's very human to think otherwise."

"Well, you might not have gotten the memo, Cas, but Sam and I? We're human."

Sam frowns at his brother. There's really no need to pick at the angel for well, whatever it is they're discussing. Speaking of which, "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing!" Dean snaps defensively.

"Dean believes that following social conventions is more important than having a chance at happiness."

"Oh, please." Sam doesn't have to look to know Dean is exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. "Cas thinks that since we're never going to have normal lives we should just go gay for each other."

Sam blinks, and turns to Cas, who is scowling at Dean. "When you say 'each other' you mean..."

"You. Me. Cas, too. Turns out the angel is a kinky son of a bitch under the clueless act. So hey, you know if you and Cas want me to give you some alone time, just let me know!" If Dean laid on the sarcasm any thicker, it would actually be a physical presence in the room, Sam thinks.

"Cas, are you saying you're attracted to me?"

"I love both of you. I learned love from you after centuries of thinking I understood the concept as an angel. And you clearly love each other at a deeper level than anyone I've ever known."

"Okay, whatever. Angels are just weird, man. Are we gonna watch these movies or not?"

Cas clearly wants to keep talking as much as Dean wants no part of any further conversation. In the end, Sam shakes his head at Cas and that's the end of that for the evening. Afterwards, however, it puts the idea into Sam's head. Sam has always been aware on a fundamental level that his family is not normal, and the more years that pass, that his relationship to Dean, particularly, has gone so far past that of well adjusted siblings – but he's never really thought about that. Well, not seriously, anyway. Nor Cas, either, as at first the angel had actively disdained him and as time went on, had always seemed more attached to Dean. Now that it's in his head, he can't quite stop thinking about it.

The next time they have a night in front of the Netflix box, after thinking and rethinking it for half the movie, Sam finally awkwardly throws an arm around Cas' shoulders in a more deliberate way than ever before. Cas immediately cuddles into his side. When Dean gets up to hit the head in between movies, he gives the two of them a weird look, but to Sam's internal relief doesn't say anything.

After, Dean starts giving them more space to do things alone, making excuses for Sam and Cas to go to the store together – or alternately, to go out and fetch things by himself, saying he doesn't want to have to wait on anyone to go. It makes things awkward for Sam, because Dean won't talk about it, and it clearly upsets Cas, who starts drawing back away from both of them.

"I did not mean to do anything to ruin your relationship," the angel intones solemnly in the middle of dinner one night.

"I'm not having this conversation again," Dean says, getting up, leaving his plate half-finished. "Sam and I are fine. You and Sam are none of my damn business."

Cas shakes his head. "I would never try to get between you -"

Dean smirks, "Well, technically isn't that what you're actually suggesting here? Did you even think about whether or not this is something I want? Or Sam wants?"

Sam rolls his eyes in exasperation, but looks to Cas. He's still not sure what he thinks about this whole business. It does get tiring being so alone all the time, and really, he can't actually imagine being any closer to anyone than he is to Dean and Cas. And when it gets right down to it, he just misses human touch that isn't grappling with monsters or sewing up injuries – aside from the occasional desperate hug when one of them might die, is dying, or has come back from the dead. The closeness that had been building between all of them before Dean pulled back so hard had only made Sam realize how much he needed more.

"You think I haven't seen every part of your souls?" Cas' voice is directed specifically at Dean, and the tone is harsh and challenging.

Sam expects some kind of a denial, but Dean just goes quiet and turns away from the table where Cas and Sam are still sitting.

"Well, what if I can't? What if it doesn't work? What if, I don't know -"

"Dean. If the forces of heaven and hell couldn't really tear us apart, I doubt this could either. And even if it does, Cas will knock some sense back into us when we get too stubborn. Hey." Sam gets up and quickly takes a firm hold on Dean's shoulder to guide him back around to look at them. "We don't have to figure any of this out right this minute."

"What if it's just weird?"

Sam shrugs to himself, and pulls Dean in – he's not sure if he's going to prove Dean's point or Cas' honestly, but he wants to know one way or the other. Dean's eyes go very wide for just a few seconds, before Sam closes his own and kisses him. Honestly, Sam does expect it to be more than a little weird, but it's not. It's not exactly a great kiss either, but the visceral disgust he half expects to hit somewhere along the way that he's kissing his brother never actually materializes. Huh.

They break apart and Dean still just looks vaguely like he's been thumped over the head with something heavy. No more disgusted than Sam, just a little shell shocked. Cas is staring at them with his head cocked to one side, and Sam figures he might as well make a thorough job of it and beckons Cas to come over.

Sam expects kissing Cas to be a similar awkward but not awful experience, but he'd forgotten about that incident back with Meg a few years ago. Cas knows how to kiss and is willing to throw himself wholeheartedly into it. Sam breaks away breathing a little hard and resists the urge to mutter an audible "Wow" in response.

When Cas holds out a hand towards Dean, he takes an involuntary half-step away, and Cas' face falls. Sam is slightly aggravated with his brother and his hangups, because suddenly it feels like Cas is right and this could be easy if Dean would just let go. Still, he can understand why it's too much too fast, and Dean actually surprises him a little by retaking the step forward and pulling Cas into a hug that lingers at least as long as any of the kissing. He shrugs awkwardly pulling away with a smile that's just a couple of steps away from a grimace. "Give me a little time to catch up to you crazy free lovebirds."

It's not much, but it's more than Sam really expected without an intervening massive freak out. They'll figure out how to make this work, just ... not right this minute.