"Dean, I am concerned about your emotional well-being." Castiel stood behind Dean, holding trays of food: scones, honey, apple cider, cherry pie, and more.
"Damn it, Cas. I'm trying to get some work done." Dean sighed and shut the old book he was poring over. "No thanks to you, who got us into this mess in the first place."
"I'm sorry I disturbed you." Cas placed the tray on the desk, next to Dean's work. "I'll leave you to yourself, now." He turned to leave.
"Cas, wait," Dean sighed. "I would love some company, and I'm famished."
"There is an old British custom of having a tea party daily in the late afternoon."
"You mean, like, tea?" Dean cleared off a stack of papers from a chair so that Cas could sit.
"It is terribly dismal in here. I know of a lovely garden in Montreal that would be perfect. We can be there in an instant." Cas looked at Dean closely. He found himself squirming under the angel's unflinching gaze.
"Thanks, Cas, but I really-"
"Nonsense. You are growing pale and the lack of sunlight is causing you physical stress." There was a whoosh and they were transported instantly into a lush green clearing in a tall labyrinth. Grass grew among the cracks in the rocks of the floor. Pink flowers climbed among the hedges, and stone statues were scattered about the small courtyard. A picnic table shaded by a willow tree sat to one edge. Dean blinked, unused to the sudden bright sunlight.
"Over here." Cas motioned to the table. He set down his trays. Dean followed him, and sat down. Soon there was a white lace tablecloth on the surface, and an ornate teapot sat in the middle, and the plates, saucers, bowls, teacups, and other various dishes matched. There were three types of forks at each place setting, along with two spoons and two napkin folded to resemble a rose.
"Cas, this is..."
"Nothing at all. You are in pain, Dean. And it is not the kind I can fix with my abilities." Castiel began to set out the food. "These are scones and cookies I made myself. The honey was gathered from my own bees, and I drained the syrup from the purest maples. I pressed the cider and baked the pie. I know you like pie."
"Castiel, look at me." Dean watched the angel set out the food.
"Yes? Is something wrong?"
"No. It's just, uh, I'm not very good at apologies, so, well, here goes." Dean poured tea into the teacups. "I yelled at you earlier. I'm sorry."
"I forgave you as you said it."
"Castiel, you have saved my brother and me so many times I've lost count. I see you as family, and it is killing me to see you so upset. What's going on, Cas?"
"Dean. I am singlehandedly responsible for countless deaths, first the angels and the humans that were caught in the melee. And then everyone that the Leviathans have killed. That's what's on my mind. Will you try the scones? I am unsure of the recipe's quality."
"I don't want to fight anymore, Cas. Tell you what, when all of this bull is over, what do you say me and you and Sam move somewhere sunny, somewhere nice and demon-proof. You can keep your bees and things, and Sam and I'll work normal jobs."
"I would like that, Dean."
"Here's to beating the crap out of Dick Roman and leaving all of this behind." Dean lifted his teacup to Cas.
"Yes." Cas smiled weakly at Dean, and they sat in the sun, not speaking, just reveling in each other's company, the angel watching his best friend eat, observing his face. Every little movement of an eyebrow, the twitch of the mouth. For just a few short minutes, there were no problems or monsters, just Dean and Cas, a beautiful day, and a small scrap of hope for the future.