Thank you to those who voted. =) Here is a new chapter as I promised. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Oh, Stacey London

To say that this was like hell was an understatement. Maybe it was a little wrong for him to think but, hey he'd been there and this was still a lot worse. Sam was sitting quietly on the bench in the shoe department of JCPenny. He was compliant as an older woman took his shoe size, visibly uneasy at his silence. The tall man kept looking at Dean, eyes wide with something akin to embarrassment as the woman asked him questions that he couldn't answer.

"So, what kind of shoe are you looking for?" she asked with a small smile.

Sam's mouth flopped open as he looked back the woman, his face contorting further into despair. Dean sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder and looked at the sales clerk.

"I'm sorry ma'am but my brother is…mute," he stuttered around the word 'mute', not knowing how that affected Sam. Unfortunately, he could feel his brother's shoulder slump at the statement, trying to shake him off.

The clerk gave a look of understanding at the younger man before returning her eyes to Dean, "Well do you know what he'd prefer?"

It was Dean's turn to flop, looking at Sam as if expecting an answer this time. The younger Winchester just stared at his hands, obviously hurt at Dean's earlier statement.

"I have a solution," came Cas' gruff voice from behind Dean.

"Oh? And where have you been?" Dean practically growled.

Cas gave him a pointed look, ignoring his question, "Samuel, would you like to walk around and find a pair that you'd like?"

Sam's head popped up, a smile beaming on his face as he stood and ambled closer to the angel. Castiel put a hand on his elbow as they walked to the nearby clearance shelf. It wasn't like they had too much money to spend. Dean didn't want to run the risk of using any of his credit cards seeing as they'd be staying here for awhile.

"I'll wait here," Dean called to them, both ignoring him, "Well."

Sam ran his hands over many different shoes. Unlike before, he wasn't testing them for durability. Now he was just relishing the feel of leather, faux leather, and many unknown materials under his fingers. Castiel seemed to understand this; he too loved to know how everything in this human world felt. He figured it was Sam's way of relearning the world.

"See any you like?" he asked softly, making sure he didn't sound rushing.

Sam smiled at him with a nod, picking up a pair of brown boots not much different from his old pair. The angel smiled back, taking it from him and checking the size just as Dean taught him. He breathed a sigh of relief that it was a match.

"We have a winner, Dean," Cas called over, maybe a bit too loudly.

Luckily, his volume also attracted the same sales clerk and she hurried over to take the box to the register. Sam followed her almost excitedly, his long brown bangs covering his eyes. He swatted them away in order to stare at the new shoes they were purchasing.

…

An hour later, they were still flitting around the store. To Dean's dismay, Sam was getting cranky. He was starting to act much like a young child too close to his nap time, which as Dean checked his watch, was actually very soon. Sam didn't like anything on the rack; he frowned unhappily at everything Dean offered him, even swatting the clothing onto the floor sometimes.

"Dean, let him choose," Cas urged gently, knowing that both the brothers' nerves were running high.

"Cas, if I let him choose he'll be picking up short sleeved shirts and shorts when it's below ten degrees outside," the older Winchester snapped.

"He's not incompetent."

"He's not competent either."

"You're making no sense."

"Son of a bitch! Sam, stop that!"

Cas followed Dean's eyes to see Sam looking in someone else's cart, rummaging through their clothing choices. The angel almost felt like cradling his head exasperatedly. Instead, he did what any adult would do in his situation; berate.

"Dean, don't yell at your brother," he yanked on Dean's arm to make him face him, "Let him find what he wants, he's not a child. Isn't that what you told me the other day?"

Sam looked up at the sound of Cas' angry voice, a long sleeved henley cradled in his hands. Cas looked at it and pushed his anger down, happy that Sam had finally found something. To their luck, the owner of the cart emerged from the racks. The man looked to be in his late twenties and didn't seem at all disturbed at Sam.

"Hey," Dean said shakily, "My brother found that in your cart, can you show us where you got it?"

The man laughed a bit, "Yeah, of course. I was worried you were gonna steal it on me there for a second."

Dean laughed uneasily, sure that Sam was thinking of doing just that. Sam followed the man into the racks, Cas right behind him.

When would it be over?

…

Five hours and three stores later, Dean was lounging on Bobby's couch. The sounds of bags crinkling and tags coming off rang around him. Castiel sat on the loveseat beside Sam, removing the tags as Dean had instructed him to so that Sam could marvel at his new clothing.

Dean watched Sam's eyes light up each time Cas handed him a new piece of clothing. Shirts, jeans, even underwear. He had to admit, although the shopping wasn't exactly fun; seeing Sam that happy was worth it. The younger Winchester was running his fingers over a cotton long sleeve shirt. The soft fabric was such a vivid memory. It was something that your senses never forgot.

Even if he couldn't remember exactly how it felt to pet a dog or play in the mud, he seemed to remember this fabric. Maybe it was the long days he spent swathed in it as he lay in bed. Or how he remembers how when he was young, Dean used to lend him his white cotton tees to sleep in. These t-shirts always smelled of Dean, like when you played outside for too long in the summer. A deep musky scent that wasn't sweaty, but beautifully comforting. These are the type of things Sam likes to remember.

As Castiel ripped the final tag off, he gave the pile of garbage one glance before it disappeared. Honestly, he didn't even need to rip them off, he could have just 'mojo-ed' them away. But he didn't want to; he enjoyed the way Sam's face brightened as each piece of clothing fell into his lap. He wanted to be even more a part of that process. He raised his eyes to Dean, noticing him staring intently at his brother.

"Dean, will you order dinner?"

The hunter's eyes shifted to the angel, "Hmm? Oh, dinner. Uh, pizza?"

"I don't eat, Dean."

Dean chuckled softly, "Right. Sorry, I'm tired. Did Bobby say when he'd be back?"

The angel stood, moving towards Dean's cell phone that was perched on the TV stand, "Tomorrow."

He caught the phone as Cas tossed it to him, "Good. My funds are depleting."

Castiel watched his charge as he spoke on the phone in a well rehearsed order. He moved forward until he was seated directly beside him, noticing the way Dean's body seemed to tense. With an internal sigh, he looked at Sam who was now laying his head on the armrest of the couch. Sam's deep brown eyes stared at his brother, fingers running over a shirt clutched in his hand softly.

"Sam, are you tired?" Dean asked as he hung up the phone, standing to walk to his brother.

Cas almost whined at the loss of body heat but enjoyed the sparkle in Sam's eyes as Dean acknowledged him. Sam was sure Dean was upset with him all day. He kept yelling and giving him annoyed looks at the store. Castiel read this perfectly as he tapped into Sam's head. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but sometimes he couldn't resist. Sam Winchester was one of the most interesting humans.

"Come on, buddy," Dean said softly, reaching out a hand to his brother, "I'll take you upstairs and get you in bed. You skipped your nap today."

Sam took his hand happily, standing with his new shirt still in his possession. Dean looked at it and scoffed, taking it out of his hands and tossing it unto the pile of clothing. The younger Winchester glanced at it forlornly.

"We have to wash those before you can wear 'em, Sammy," he said as he noticed the look, "Here, I'll let you borrow one of mine for the night, okay?"

Sam's face seemed to perk up at this, nodding to show his understanding. Castiel watched as they disappeared up the stairs and sunk into the couch.

…

It was close to midnight when Cas found Dean still awake in his bed. The man was staring at the ceiling calmly, one hand resting on his belly with the other behind his head. The angel shucked his trench coat and got in beside him, lacing an arm around Dean's neck and tugged. Dean's face fell into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. The hunter began to shake softly, his hand rising to rest on Cas' cheek.

"It will be okay, Dean," Cas spoke calmly, "I promise we'll figure this out."

"Yeah, of course we will," Dean breathed, keeping tears at bay, "Then what? He'll never forget this Cas. I think that's the worst part of it."

The angel tilted his love's chin up, laying a soft kiss on his brow. Dean sighed at the calming effect of the simple kiss before recognizing the push of Cas' grace. He didn't resist it, knowing he'd need to get up early in the morning to make breakfast for his brother.

"Don't worry about that Dean, I'll take care of breakfast."

"Cas, I don't even know where you get breakfast," he responded sleepily, curling into the body beside him. No, he wasn't cuddling. He only cuddles when he's drunk.

"Does it matter? Sleep, Dean."

"But his bath…"

"I'll take care of that too," Cas smiled.

"Two-timing dick," Dean chuckled.

"Sleep."

And he did.

So, who saw last night's episode? Pretty bad ass, I say. I love having Sam back and Castiel's almost hug was just too funny. Can't wait for a new episode next week. Thank you all for reading!