It a strange walk from the library to the garage after his talk with the youngest Winchester. He felt both comforted and saddened, though that may always be the case when speaking of such downhearted things.
A part of him wondered if it was wrong to leave Sam alone after their heartfelt conversation. As much attention as both of them had been putting on Dean, after sharing the hardship on himself, it almost felt wrong to then get up and leave him behind. Especially, Cas thought warmly, after being told with confidence that the two of them were brothers.
On the other hand, Sam had also made it clear that their heartfelt conversation had come to an end. That sharing and caring had occurred, things had come out into the clear, and now they were to move on. For Cas, moving on meant checking on Dean.
Dean was, as Sam had said, in the garage working on the antique cars that had been left without owners, but had been gleefully accepted as wards by the hunter as soon as he had claimed the bunker as his home. He was bent over the engine, trying to fix something that Cas had no idea about. He had an old shirt on, the cotton worn, drenched in sweat. It was raised from him stretching, showing off muscled, if not slightly soft, back.
Upon reaching the garage, the hunter was unaware of the angel's presence, and Cas was not inclined to immediately announce his arrival. He knew that Dean would not necessarily approve of being watched while unaware, considering it to be "creepy", but it was moments like this that Cas was able to see how Dean truly was. It was only alone, or when he thought he was alone, that the eldest Winchester allowed himself to reveal how much everything was affecting him. As soon as Sam or Cas, or any other person, came into view, Dean's shields went right back up.
It was one of the main reasons that Cas wished he could turn invisible still, remembering all the times he had been able to watch Dean privately without getting caught. That fact would probably creep Dean out even more, but Cas had never been able to deny himself the luxury of watching over his charge when his barriers were mostly down. This was especially true when Dean was sleeping. Cas had loved to watch Dean sleep, entranced not only by the way the hunter softened, or squirmed, or moaned, but also of the act of sleeping itself. What was more, by watching over him during those times, Cas had been able to occasional catch a glimpse of a horrish nightmare and send it away.
Those were things that Cas could no longer do. Having been human, having regained a grace that wasn't his, he ability was severely lacking. Simple things like taking pleasure in watching over Dean silently were now out of his reach. He didn't even want to dwell on the larger aspects that were gone as well.
Frowning at his downward train of thought, Cas refocused his attention on Dean as he continued to work on the car's engine. The fallen concentrated on the tense muscles, slightly relaxed at the moment because he was working on something he loved, but also with an underlying current of anger and restlessness. Stepping sideways just a bit, Cas viewed Dean's profile from his side, able to get a glimpse of his face. Wrinkles were taunt near his eyes, displaying how tired he was in general. At times when Dean looked at him and Cas saw the faint lines crease his facial expression, the angel could almost imagine they were laugh lines, earned by joking too much and laughing too loud. The hard truth was never too far behind though; Dean was becoming worn and even though he tried not to act on it, the years of hunting non-stop, brutal beatings, and multiple apocalypses had taken their toll on him.
It was more of a spiritual aging, Cas could see. Maybe before, right after Purgatory, the wearing out had been simply to getting physically older, but that was no longer the case. It couldn't be. The Mark of Cain gave him more energy and power than he had ever had before. Physically, Dean was once again in his prime. Spiritually, Dean was losing the will to fight. His soul was beginning to fade. When he had first seen Dean in the pits of Hell his soul had burned brighter than the sun, but now...not so much. There was a darkness that shadowed the light of his soul, a gloom that was everpresent.
"You're doing it again," Dean's gruff voice echoes from under the hood, low and husky. "Stop staring. It's creepy."
"I apologize," but of course he wasn't, and Dean knew that well.
A moment later, Dean separated himself from the car the properly face the angel, his gaze softer than his tone had implied. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to see how you were."
"Fine."
Cas frowned, always so tired of Dean's lies. "No, you're not."
The blunt truth caused green eyes to narrow, but nothing could be said to deny it. Cas was right, as he usually was when it came to seeing the real Dean, the person that Dean himself tried so hard to hide.
"Yea, well," he scoffed, and Cas could sense the unease rolling off of the hunter. That unease always appeared when he was faced to admit something was wrong with him. It was a habit gained over thirty-something years of being a good soldier, a great big brother, and a strong hunter. It was a habit that Cas imagined would be his downfall, as it had occasionally been in the past. "Not really something I can do about it now."
Again, Cas frowned, because this wasn't like Dean at all. Dean, who might have had the tendency to say dark things and state the world was ending, never once allowed those sort of statements to actually overcome him. Whatever he might say, there was a strength behind the hopeless words that signaled he was not yet without hope entirely. And even if he was, he would continue to fight until there was nothing left. That was the real Dean; a fighter until the very Dean.
So it hurt Cas to the very core of his being to hear a hopeless statement said in a hopeless tone. It pained him to realize that Dean truly was giving up this time. Whatever they might have faced in the past, Dean's lack of hope made it all worse this time. Because, if their fearless and optimistic leader couldn't gather the energy to fight against the darkness anymore, what hope did Cas or Sam have to do so?
"Would you like to get a drink?"
