Dean learns a few things during that first morning (well, technically it's evening because the whole amnesia crisis has pitched everyone's sleep schedules out of whack.) one of which is that whilst Castiel can, and does, make good coffee, he pretty much sucks at making anything else. With the exception of a half apple pie in the refrigerator (which Dean is still frankly in awe of, he'd probably almost-gay-marry Cas again just for that pie) everything else in the house is canned or frozen, or burnt beyond recognition.

The second thing is that, whilst he and Sam have apparently been estranged for years, nothing covers that kind of awkwardness like the awkwardness of catching your brother making out with a former angel of the lord. So whilst conversation over breakfast/dinner is strained, it isn't mutinously conflicted either. Sam even tells him about his hunts over the past few years, which sort of makes Dean wish he could reciprocate with his own stories. Or at least a story that doesn't end, 'and then I went to sleep and lost my memory' which is the only one he knows.

Throughout the meal and the conversation it tails into, Dean is sat next to Castiel, and although he's talking to Sam he's still very aware of the other man's presence. It's not an intrusion, just a sense of barely there comfort. Even though Castiel is smaller, clothed in baggy grey sweats and a T-shirt, hair sticking up all over – he exudes peace, more so than when he was an angel. He catches Dean's gaze with a questioning look, Dean shakes his head, it's not important. Castiel goes back to his coffee with an almost unreadable smile.

Sam coughs nervously.

"So, I...uh, I guess I should go." Castiel says nothing, but Dean feels the light press of his knee against his own.

"Stay" the words jumps from him as if passed by touch. "I mean, I thought we could...I don't know, do guy stuff" he finishes lamely. "What with Cas being such a girl and all." Which earns him an unimpressed mock glare from the girl in question. But it gets him some time with Sam, wandering amongst the wrecked cars of Bobby's lot.

"You should stick around, not here, if you don't want but...you know, we should hunt sometime."

Sam looks at him, honestly looks him in the eye and Dean is reminded that this is an older, wiser version of his kid brother.

"This is to do with you and Castiel, isn't it?" he asks cautiously.

"No, I miss you man, and you're a good hunter, maybe even better than...ok, it's a Cas thing." He relents under Sam's stare. "He's...worried...about me. God that's still weird" He smirks "Castiel is worried about me." Shakes his head disbelievingly, then turns serious. "You being around...well, can't say I never managed to get myself in trouble even with you around, but..."

"That was a long time ago" Sam says slowly, carefully. "I did things, and you didn't want me around. You don't want me around, not really. I mean, you'll change your mind when you get your memories back."

"Well right now I want you here." He injects as much warmth into the words as he can, to balance what he's about to say. "And you owe him, Cas I mean." Sam winces.

"I know"

"So...you'll think about it?" Sam can see a little of his puppy like enthusiasm for his work returning (not that he'd ever say that to Dean's face, he likes his masculinity when it isn't regularly questioned, thank you very much) but he can almost see Dean, Dean of years and years ago, face serious but light.

"Saving People, Hunting things. The family business."

When it was that simple.

And maybe it could be, almost, again.

"Castiel has my number...give me a call, anytime."

They part, shaking hands next to Sam's car (which is hideous, and almost makes Dean ruin their reconciliation with a violent outburst on behalf of the Impala) It's a strained peace, but it's there. Maybe they can work on it. It's weird that now it's him and Cas, with Sam given the role of occasional visitor. But it could work, given the chance.

Castiel is waiting, still in the kitchen, when he returns. It looks like he hasn't moved, but the dishes are done and he's reading one of Bobby's old books. He waits for Dean to speak.

"Sam might be coming by soon." He lets that sink in. "I asked him for help, with any cases that come up." Castiel's eyes light with understanding, a mild crease forming between them. Swallowing his nerves, Dean skirts the table and wraps his arms around the seated man from behind. Castiel's hands fall from the table, running over his arms, a pleasantly surprised sound tumbling from his lips.

"You didn't have to do that." He mutters, leaning back against him. "but I'm glad you did."

"Well now you don't have to worry." He presses a quick kiss to his shoulder, then claps his hand on the other and straightens up. "You can use all that new free time to learn how to cook."

The third thing he learns is that Castiel can throw books both quite far and very hard.

It's a day of mixed discoveries.