There was a comfortable familiarity that coated their interactions after their chat of sorts. Castiel couldn't remember when it had been so easy between them. Too many hidden agendas and strong distrust distanced the angel from his most cherished charge, though he hadn't realized the extent of the damage until now, when things were strangely simple again.
Even with Castiel's fluctuating emotions, things were better than ever before. During the few days following their altercation, Dean gave the angel materials to study, materials overflowing with information about lore, weaponry, and history. Most of it Castiel already knew, but the gesture was appreciated, and it was always good to review. He'd never learned about monsters and demons, or angels, for that matter, from the human's perspective, and it fascinated him.
"Did you want ketchup on your burger?" Dean interrupted, sticking his head into the library, eyes immediately locking with his.
"No?" Castiel replied as he rose from his seat. "I don't really see why this matters so much, Dean." Castiel set the book he'd been absentmindedly reading for the past two hours, fluctuating between the author's words and his personal musings, aside.
Dean smirked. "Eating is a pivotal part of the experience, Cas."
"Yeah, but I don't see how eating is considered training." The angel followed the hunter down the hall into the kitchen, where the rich smell of burgers perfumed the air. Castiel's stomach rumbled.
Dean chuckled. "'Training' is a bit of a relative term. I can't teach you much about fighting or lore that you don't already know."
Castiel frowned. "Fighting and lore aren't the only aspects of humanity."
"They are for us. Look, Cas, I'll help you when you need help. Right now, you're doing fine, and I don't know how much you've already figured out."
"So, essentially, your 'training' is just you watching over me?"
"Yup." Dean finished adding the final touches to their burgers and made to take them to the table. Castiel stood to help, but the hunter waved him away. "Relax, I've got this. Lemme be your guardian angel, for a change."
It was strange, hearing the hunter talk so calmly with Castiel, nonchalance coating words and sentiments of great significance. Their conversations hadn't been lighthearted or kind in years, it seemed. Purgatory tainted everything, seeping into the crevices and cracks that littered their damaged, closed emotions. The bad of the world became their good, a feat unusual for the Winchester brothers and the lost angel. Often, the world's good was their evil, their ultimate downfall. The bond of brothers, distorted and manipulated by creatures of Satan and God alike to suit their own purposes.
Castiel's betrayal hadn't helped the situation, either.
"The burger isn't gonna eat itself, Cas," Dean interrupted.
Their eyes met, and it was clear Dean was regretting his loose tongue, his "chick-flick" language, though not the meaning behind the words. The protectiveness continued to shine from his being, broadcasted through his soul in wondrous light.
It hurt, not being able to see Dean's soul, though he'd seen the expression countless times. He'd memorized this phenomenon, this intense protective instinct of the Righteous Man.
Never before, though, had it been towards Castiel. Not like this.
"Alright." The dual reply, boldly yet quietly declared, served only to intensify and diminish the ever-present tension between the two, taming one sort in favor of igniting another.
Dean clapped Castiel's shoulder, grinning widely, and they returned to their lunch.
The issue, however, refused to cease pestering Castiel. He'd been upset over the lack of training only days ago, and he still was, but the answer he received from Dean only raised different doubts.
If the hunter promised to train him, to educate them in their ways, why was he refusing to now, with the excuse that Castiel already knew what he needed to? Surely Castiel didn't know everything he needed to.
Castiel finished his burger, then voiced his confusion in a single question.
Dean paused mid-bite and swallowed, yet he refused to answer. The silence between the two of them was deafening, and, with every passing second, the hunter's expression adopted the slight panic of an animal ensnared yet too prideful to acknowledge it.
"Were you lying?" Castiel leaned forward, anger absent from his voice.
"No," Dean answered at long last. "No, I wasn't lying. There are things you need to learn, but you'd understand better if you learned through experience."
"So, you don't need me here for training?" Curiosity overwhelmed Castiel; it was clear something was off about the situation, and he was determined to figure it out.
Dean fidgeted, aware of his entanglement and the moment's inevitable decline from mundane to 'chick-flic.'
"Because, if you don't, then I don't understand why I can't leave and return when you need me for a case."
Dean scoffed. "Where else would you go? The war in Heaven is over, isn't it? Or, at least, you aren't involved anymore, right?"
Castiel ignored the bitter taste in his mouth as he literally bit his tongue to keep from snapping and drew blood. "Hypothetically, Dean. I'm just trying to understand, don't I deserve that much?"
"Well, in reality, it wouldn't be wise to separate like that, because you're not an angel anymore, and we might have to wait days before you'd come, and sometimes cases can't wait that long."
Ire overpowered Castiel's self-control. "I'm fully aware of my limitations, Dean. I just want to understand why you couldn't just tell me you'd rather keep me here for convenience and protection."
"Would you have stayed if I'd just told you that?" Dean's voice lost all traces of anger, exhaustion and slight irritation replacing the swift sting of rage.
"Yes," Castiel answered dishonestly. Truthfully, he had no idea whether or not such an explanation would've resulted in compliance or rebellion; however, the angel remembered Dean's lesson on lies. They were used by humans to get what they wanted, to "become President"; Castiel was human too, now.
Currently, Castiel wanted peace between him and Dean, peace and understanding. He didn't want to be left in the dark, forced into enlightenment only when necessary. He wanted honesty, though Castiel understood lying to receive honesty was convoluted.
However, the angel did need information, and his body required rest and recuperation. Much as he loathed to be a burden, he would be less of a bother staying with the Winchesters than if he continued living as a human relatively ignorant and injured, because, eventually, Dean would've discovered the truth about Purgatory, about his survival, and searched for him. It would've been a waste of time, and who knew what state Castiel would've been in.
The angel's best bet to leaving on a positive note and not seeing the Winchesters again (after all, he'd done them more harm than good) was to humor Dean until Castiel could fend for himself, could slip away without needing him.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Castiel." Dean's eyes bore into Castiel's steadfastly as he interrupted the angel's train of thought.
"Why?" Castiel's stomach twisted in dread and affection, a combination that proved toxic and countered the hunter's words. If anything, his reaction alone to the words proved that escape was necessary, yet he couldn't prevent himself from voicing his confusion.
"You're family, Cas. Whatever happened, happened. Family sticks together through thick and thin."
Guilt pierced Castiel as pleasure warmed him. It was more than he deserved, yet, simultaneously, he craved more. Acceptance into Dean's concept of family was the highest he could ever get, and he was honored to receive it.
However, as Dean's vibrant green eyes softened into a familiarly affectionate smile, Castiel's stomach curled in contempt at "family." He longed to earn a different title entirely.
"Thank you, Dean. For everything."
Dean smiled. "You're welcome, Cas."
Hours after the lunch, Castiel relaxed within the comforting, book-laden walls of Bobby's expansive library once again. Relaxing being a relative term, considering he merely swapped one brother in favor of another to brood over.
Even after a few weeks passed, Sam hadn't returned. Granted, only a few days lapsed between Castiel's near-flight from the safe haven, but two weeks stretched between the younger Winchester's departure and the awkward, stagnant respite from angels, demons, hunting, and the world at large. The former angel noticed Dean's confidence plummeting every hour.
The younger brother was completely silent. There hadn't been much communication between the two at the beginning of the separation, but it completely silenced after three days. Dean took to pacing the halls and hovering over Castiel's shoulder, desperate for distraction and/or knowledge.
Dean had poured over the articles that snagged Sam's attention, yet he found nothing. Of course, he was looking at the situation all wrong.
The angel set his lore tome aside and examined the articles online, scanning for information to support a nagging hypothesis.
Castiel saw the problem immediately, the support he'd been searching for, now that he'd given in to his curiosity and examined the incriminating articles closer.
Sam wasn't hunting vampires, ghosts, werewolves, or any common creature they'd encountered. He was searching for Gabriel. Which was a fruitless labor, as the archangel's sacrifice shattered the remnants of calm possessing the angelic hosts; Gabriel's passing was unavoidable, and nothing Sam found would negate his extinction.
"Find anything?" Dean strode to the table where Castiel sat, staring at the articles.
Unfortunately, the hunters weren't easily fooled, either. Not Sam, at least, and he'd investigate the situation as soon as possible.
If Sam thought Gabriel returned, it was a trap set by bloodthirsty monsters. Everyone wanted the Winchesters dead, and what better way to do that than lure them with the possibility of an ally's survival?
"Cas?"
"It looks like Gabriel," Castiel replied.
Dean paled. "Yeah, so? He died; it can't be him. I already guessed that."
"So did Sam, I bet," Castiel continued, hoping Dean would understand without explicit instruction. He didn't want to verbalize his findings; they made him sick to his stomach.
"Why would Sam-" Dean trailed off, eyes wide. "Gabriel's dead, isn't he? We saw Lucifer gank him; he can't be alive."
"Don't speak of my brother's passing so callously," Castiel snapped. His irritation slowly rose throughout the conversation, and Dean's vernacular set him off. Besides, it was better to snap about that than Sam, both subjects undeserving of ire, though targeting Sam would unleash an entirely different monster.
Castiel loathed the strength and irrationality of human emotions with every fiber of his being.
Dean glared, and his features hardened. "Don't speak of my brother's absence so enigmatically. If you've got information, don't toy with me. Give it to me straight."
Castiel mustered his composure and forced himself to hold Dean's angry stare. He was unused to experiencing the emotional connection so strongly between them, and it greatly unnerved him. He never felt so raw, so vulnerable. It was a miracle Dean hadn't seen through his shaky composure.
"Obviously, it's a trap. Returning from oblivion is unheard of. We don't have a place after death; once we're dead, we're dead."
"You came back."
"That was different. There was divine intervention, and I doubt Gabriel would receive the same treatment."
Dean tilted his head, features softening ever so slightly. "Just out of curiosity, how did you come back?"
"I don't know," Castiel lied. The angel looked away from the hunter and tapped his fingers on the table. "But I do know that we need to find Sam immediately. Normally, I'd just fly us there, but..."
Air snagged the remaining words, ensnaring them in his throat, though the unspoken continuation held obvious meaning, meaning Dean understood in a heartbeat. The hunter softened, his whole being shedding a layer of stiff irritation.
"I'd rather spend a few hours driving than a few weeks constipated, anyways." Dean grinned hesitantly.
Castiel chuckled, and Dean's grin widened. "Understandable."
They stood in comfortable silence, eyes locked in warm gazes, before the hunter shook his head slightly and grabbed his keys from one of his pockets. "Ready?"
Castiel nodded and followed Dean out of the house.
