AN: You're probably going to hate me for this! But I needed to do it. Thanks for reviews, and I appreciate your feedback!

Sam walked close to Dean as they approached Cas's room.

"Wait." Dean stopped outside.

"What's wrong?"

"How is he?"

Sam took a breath. "He's not great, but he's patched up. He's resting mostly."

"What if he doesn't want to see me?"

Sam can't remember a time where Cas didn't want to see Dean. There were plenty of moments were avoidance would have been understandable, moments where Sam would have high-tailed it away from Dean if he were in Cas's place. Cas might be snarky, his feelings might be hurt, but he would always came when Dean called.

"I'll be there."

"OK."

Sam pushed open the door. As he expected, Cas was resting, curled on his side, barely visible under blankets. Still, Dean's breath hitched.

"I did this to him."

"It wasn't you," Sam said, quickly. Dean gave no sign that he heard him, instead marching dead-eyed to Cas's bed. He stared, motionless, and Sam waited for something to happen. For Cas to stir or Dean to touch him. But nothing happened.

After a while, Dean got up and walked back to Sam.

"Alright," Dean said, nodding.

Sam was baffled. That was it? He opened the door and followed Dean out. It made sense, though. Starting out with too much would be as much as a shock to Dean as it would be to Cas.

"I'm gonna take a walk. Clear my head."

Sam hesitated, because Dean was already looking better-the fact that he would even want to go for a walk was a good sign-but he still didn't look healthy. Sam missed his anger and apathy towards Dean, because now, they were replaced with worry.

Dean sensed Sam's hesitation.

"I'll be fine. I'm just gonna go around the block, get some fresh air."

"Alright," Sam conceded. After twenty minutes, if Dean wasn't back, Sam would go out and look for him.

But Dean returned in twenty minutes, which Sam spent reading by Castiel's bedside. He heard the front door open, Dean's footsteps down the hall, and then the creak of Dean's bedroom door.

In retrospect, the big meal should have been a tip-off that something was off.

It was five days since Sam decided to talk to Dean, so a little over a week since Cas was brought back to the bunker. He was conscious more often now, but never for long, and never exactly lucid. Dean was never around for these moments, but he prepared soup for Sam to give to Cas. He never told Sam when he was going to. Sam would just walk into the kitchen and find a bowl of tomato-and-rice, or chicken broth, something light for Cas to eat.

Sam was concerned about Cas's progress. All things considered, it was pretty slow. He was improving, obviously, but still exhausted most of the time. He hoped that it was because Cas Fell. That, at least, would explain it. It wasn't something he would bring up to Dean, still a sore subject for him.

Dean looked like himself again. He was more silent, but he cooked for Sam and Dean. Usually simple things, nothing elaborate, but at least Dean was doing something. And he wasn't drinking, or at least, Sam didn't see him drink. Things were, sickly, better than they had been in a while.

Which is why Dean's three-course meal should have been a tip-off of something. Sam should have been cautious about sitting down to a roast, asparagus, mashed potatoes.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking about it. I, uh, think I should head out for a while."

"Head out? Like to the store?"

"No. Just around. Like a road trip."

Sam put his fork down. It was bribery food. "By yourself?"

"Yeah."

Sam picked at his food, trying to keep his expression neutral.

"Is there any particular reason?"

"I think some time apart would be good for us."

Sam wondered if Dean realized how similar to a break up that sounded, but he didn't say anything.

"And what about Cas?" The question came out much more sharply than he intended.

"You're so good with him, Sammy. You're better than I've ever been with him."

"But he wants you. You're just going to abandon him while he's healing? Damn it, Dean!"

"I wrote him a letter."

"A letter," Sam repeated. "You're not even going to tell him in person? You were always on his case about not being around, but it's OK for you to just leave him when he needs you the most?"

"I think we all need some time away from each other. I think Cas needs time away from me, too, whether he realizes it or not. Some time where he's not either fighting a war or hanging around me like a devoted puppy. He needs to learn from someone who's not me."

That was a point Sam couldn't argue with.

"And being around me, after what I did-"

"It wasn't you," Sam said. If he said it enough times, maybe he and Dean would believe it fully.

"After what happened, then," Dean amended, "after what happened, even if I was possessed, I don't know. I don't think the healthiest option would be for Cas to heal with me around. It might remind him or something."

At least Dean's decisions weren't based on self-loathing. It seemed that he thought about what was best for Cas, not just exiling himself as punishment. It sounded like-dare Sam say it?-a mature, thought-out decision. He would leave on good terms (well, the best terms possible, given the circumstances), both with Sam and Cas, and return, eventually, when he sorted things out.

"Will you be OK?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'll take care of myself. It's only for a little while."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tonight? I packed my back, I wrote the note."

Sam closed his eyes, wondering how long Dean thought about this.

"You'll call me, right?"

Dean smiled. "Yeah."