Dean had learned to expect the unexpected in life. Nothing was ever what it seemed to be. If you're wiring was acting up and your air conditioner was working overtime, it was just as likely to be a ghost as it was faulty wiring.
While he had learned that, he hadn't quite expected to find Castiel at the kitchen table with needles in his hands.
Castiel had nice hands, Dean had always known that. They moved with grace when he used his sword, they danced across Sam's old laptops keyboard as Cas looked for a case.
His hands were showcased while he was knitting though. Twisting the yarn around the needle, slipping it through the loops and tugging it tight, Dean swallowed.
"Dude, please tell me you are not doing what I think you're doing." Dean stood in the doorway, staring at Cas as he sat at the table.
"Alright, I'm not doing what you think I'm doing." Cas replied not looking up from his knitting. He was using large wooden needles to knit what looked like a grey blobby, thing. Dean didn't even want to guess at what it would turn out to be.
Dean sighed. "What do you want for supper?"
Castiel was never without his knitting nowadays. And there was only Sam to blame for that. When Cas had first fallen he had been twitchy, jumping at the slightest noise. Hands shaking as he sat on in the library. It was only when they were hunting that he really relaxed. But they couldn't hunt twenty-four seven. So Sam had taken Cas into town with him on a grocery run, when they had come back Cas had six different pairs of needles, (two of them circular) and five balls of yarn in varying colors.
Sam started buying better yarn for Cas. Not the acrylic stuff they had gotten before. The soft acrylic turned into super wash merino, Leicester wool, and soft worsted alpaca. Cas would correct Dean whenever he called his stash a pile of wool, saying that it was fiber, not all wool. Dean would roll his eyes and move the basket of yarn off the table so he would be able to work there.
Cas was getting better, at knitting and at being human. He still didn't eat as often as he should, but Dean would make sure he at least had something in his system before he went to sleep.
Cas' projects started taking shape, not just blobs of yarn or tangled messes, but long scarves and soft gloves. Sam started wearing hats, and Dean had taken to wearing the wool socks that had taken Cas a week to make.
It was now an easy thing to see Cas knitting as they drove to a hunt, he didn't have to look at his hands unless he was working on a harder pattern. Sam had found a knitting forum and set up an account for Cas, Dean would have to drag him from the computer some nights so he would get at least a little sleep.
Dean walked into the kitchen one day to find Cas balling a hank of yarn, it was thrown over the chair opposite him so that as he tugged it would slide down and up. The yarn was green, but when you got closer you could see different shades where the dye had not quite evened out.
Dean fingered it, something he had found he liked doing. He liked feeling the different textures of the fiber that Cas used. From the itchy wool to the unnatural smoothness of acrylic, Cas only ever raised an eyebrow at him when he did it.
As Cas tugged at the yarn it came off the chair in a tangle. Dean pulled up a chair and grabbed at the yarn. He had seen Sam helping out once, sticking his giant hands in the circle of fiber and moving his hands so that it came off more easily. Dean did his best to mimic how Sam had done it.
Cas stopped winding the ball to look at him.
"Not a word of this to Sammy," was all Dean said. Cas nodded and got back to winding.
Hunting in winter got better, Sam and Dean's hands no longer froze while hunting wendigos, it got a lot easier to tell the difference between it just being cold and the 'a ghost is here to kill you' cold. Dean was grateful that he didn't have to worry about getting frostbite anymore, but it was getting a little ridiculous. Cas had actually made a cozy for Sam's laptop. When Cas had handed Sam his laptop incased in a rainbow of fuzzy colors Dean had had to walk out of the room to keep from laughing at the horrified look on Sam's face. Sam still hadn't been able to get rid of the damn thing without hurting Cas' feelings.
Castiel liked the feel of knitting, the smooth motions of sliding the needles through the stitches. The faint 'click clack' as they bumped together, it was, nice. He liked it when Sam and Dean wore what he made, it made him feel useful. He hadn't been able to help them as much as he used to, so he did all he could to protect them still. He stitched Enochian sigils of protection into their hats, even if they didn't have quite the same effect now that he was human, they still would help keep them safe.
He had finally stockpiled enough yarn to try his biggest project yet, he was going to knit Dean a sweater. Castiel chose his yarn carefully, if it was itchy Dean wouldn't wear it, the same would go if it was eye grabbing. So he went with the softest angora blend he could find, it was a deep brown that Dean wouldn't mind. He paired it with a dark green that he had found somewhere, and he got to work.
Castiel didn't work on it where Dean would see, so that meant the library. Which Dean would venture into only if he was looking for Sam or in need of some book for research. Or it meant his room, which Castiel wasn't a fan of knitting in.
His room was the place where he slept, nothing more. He didn't spend more time in there than absolutely necessary. Staying there gave him time alone with his thoughts, which was the last thing he wanted. To many regrets to think about, to many nightmares that turned into reality.
Castiel worked on it almost nonstop, weaving sigils into the fabric where he hoped they wouldn't be noticed. He took breaks for meals and to hunt. Sam didn't question his time alone; he had caught Castiel working on it already. Dean didn't pry, although he started looking for Castiel when he had been out of sight for too long. He would drag Castiel out of his hiding places and bring him back into the bright kitchen. Castiel tried not to be too irritated about being interrupted; after all it wasn't like Dean knew what he was doing.
Finally, after two months of work, it was done. It was soft and warm. The sigils looked like a natural part of the pattern to the passerby, and even angels would have to look closely to be able to see them. He had even been able to put extra warding on it since there was more space to use.
If this fit Dean then Castiel would be able to use this as a base pattern for a sweater for Sam. But this was the tester; if this didn't work he would have to go back to the drawing board.
Dean was cooking breakfast when he heard Cas shuffling into the kitchen. Dean slid pancakes onto a plate and turned to see Cas holding up a sweater. It was brown with green woven into shapes. And it looked like it was just Dean's size.
"Dude, is that what you've been working on?" Setting down the frying pan he walked forward to squeeze the fabric. It was soft and felt warm. Dean kinda wanted to press his face into it and breathe in the warmth it held.
"Yes, would you like to put it on?" Cas sounded excited and nervous. Dean smiled, "Try and stop me."
He slipped it over his head, sticking his arms through the holes. It rubbed gently against the skin of his neck. There was no itching so that was a good sign.
"Wow Cas, this is awesome!" Dean meant it too, it was so soft. Not at all like some of the stuff that he had gotten from stores in the past. He smacked Cas' arm, "You get a pot of coffee cooking, I'll finish making breakfast." Cas beamed at him, setting about getting the coffee made.
Dean took the sweater off so it wouldn't get grease on it. It wouldn't do to ruin it when he just got it after all.