Cas tried to act as everything was indeed fine, but the images that Ishim had dug up and forced upon him were difficult to get rid of now that they had re-emerged, made even more unbearable by Dean's constant presence, chained to his wrist.
In his act that everything was fine, he followed Dean through the bunker in an attempt to finish the day, both of them hoping beyond belief that nothing more would ensue. They moved carefully, Cas still affected by the forced memories and Ishim's words, and Dean too preoccupied with Cas's well-being.
The hunter's behavior was unnerving, though he was attempting to keep his casual and good-natured attitude from earlier. Cas could tell that Dean's quiet and almost demure actions were now a presence, hiding the aggressive response to this mess, wanting nothing more than to punch the offending problem, but not having the offender before him to do so.
Sam had ordered pizza, so Cas was saved the tension of moving around the kitchen in sync. Not that Cas had minded before. Watching Dean cook had been peaceful, made all the more pleasant by their proximity. He had especially liked that Dean had allowed him to cook. At this precise moment though, Cas didn't think he could handle the hunter walking on eggshells around him in a space that was meant to be his expression of domesticity.
As they entered the dining room, Sam wore his expected expression of concern towards Cas, who reassured him before anything could be said. "Everything is fine." Dean gave a soft sound like a scoff or huff, obviously a signal of disagreement, but Cas gave him a sideways glare that kept him voicing those disagreements.
Seeming satisfied by the assurance, Sam smiled as they took their seats, his nose scrunching together when they were across from him.
As they ate, Dean began to come back into himself, which was all at once comforting and annoying. On one hand, it meant that Dean was calming down, distracted for the time about Cas's lapses of strength. On the other hand, it meant Dean was being Dean. With food in front of him, that meant some disturbing eating habits, like eating with his mouth open.
"Dean."
"Yes?" Pizza still being chewed in a slack jaw.
"Please refrain from speaking with food in your mouth. It is an unwelcoming sight." It may have been the exhaustion or the conflicting thoughts, but it made Cas more irritable about the bad habit.
Sam stared at Cas in surprise, but a laughing crinkle at the edges of his eyes.
What was expected was for Dean to give a cheeky smile, because he seemed to enjoy the ability to annoy his family, and then continue doing whatever he wanted to do. Amazingly enough, this time Dean swallowed the food he had, nodded, and quietly did as he was told. The quiet way he did as he was asked was a little unsettling to Cas, who worried that it meant he was still bothered by what had happened earlier, except that Sam, who knew Dean best, found the situation humorous, so obviously there wasn't anything to be concerned about.
Their dinner continued as before, and afterwards they moved awkwardly - at least in Cas and Dean's case - into the gathering room where Dean had convinced Sam to let him set up couches and a TV. Cas and Dean sat on the couch while Sam took the furthest seat from them, which wouldn't have been too odd, except for the pause when they sat and Sam's purposeful avoidance.
"Dude." Dean suddenly snapped.
"What?"
"You've been giving us the stink eye since we started eating." By that, Cas assumed Dean meant the scrunched up nose.
"That's because you stink."
"No I don't."
"How long has it been since you showered?"
The eldest brother flushed, his ears burning an especially bright red, before he became indignant. "You know since when."
"Hey, don't get mad at me. I'm just saying."
Before Dean had the chance to continue with his illogical rage at his brother, Cas interfered. "He has a point Dean."
The green-eyed hunter's frustration was still present on his face, but he huffed away any further complaints. "Whatever. I'm done." He pushed himself up, momentarily forgetting that being chained to his best friend meant that he couldn't leave the immediate area so suddenly without the consequences of being chocked back.
His brother tried to stifle a laugh, caught between utter amusement and feeling guilty about that amusement.
Again, Dean flushed a beat red, angry and embarrassed. Not wanting any more unnecesary emotional pain, Cas stood calmly. "We can leave." He said quietly, prompting Dean to stand again and they both walked away.
"Stupid Sam," Dean grumbled as they moved through the corridor of rooms.
"He was correct though. You do smell."
Red heated the hunter's cheeks. "There's nothing that can be done about it!"
"You could take a shower."
"And exactly how am I supposed to do that?"
Human decency, Cas had to remind himself was a thing, and Dean, for all his obnoxious rebellion, was a man that followed the unspoken rules of humanity. Rule: men did not shower together unless it was in the locker room of a sports game or they were gay. And Dean, raised to be the eptiome of masculinity, could never allow himself to be seen as the latter.
Patience. That was what was needed when dealing with deep rooted issues making small matters like hygiene out of proportion. "Dean, we don't know how long this...situation...will last."
Compared to most hunters, at least American hunters, Dean kept up a very clean appearance. In fact, with the exception of when he was on an adrenaline high, Cas suspected Dean of being borderline germaphobic. Sot it didn't surprise the angel when Dean stopped in his complaints to pout as a means of leading up to accepting a hard decision. He scowled at his shirt, too many days on his body without being cleaned, and screwed up his nose. With a disgruntled, grudging expression, Dean trodded past his room to the restroom with Cas close in tow.
He shut the door quietly, but tensely, still battling with himself but having decided what needed to be done. They stood in the restroom, Dean starring at the door, lost in an abyss of thought, and Cas behind him, waiting for a signal as to what he needed to do in this moment.
He wasn't sure how long he could wait though. If he waited too long for Dean to make a move, the hunter might talk himself out of taking a shower, or he might tear into Cas' verbally, expelling his frustration out on him. So, afraid Dean would back out, Cas stated gently, "Dean, I believe you have to get undressed first."
Blood flowed to the back of his neck, which was the part of Dean Cas could see, but he didn't rage against the angel. Instead, with terse movements, he unbuckled his jeans and removed them so that he stood in his boxers and shirt. The he froze.
"Dean?"
Graveled and biting back irritation, Dean explained, "How am I supposed to take off my shirt?"
"I suppose we could cut it off."
The hunter huffed. "I like this shirt."
Cas gave a wry smile. "You like all your shirts." Dean shrugged, but otherwise didn't move. "Come on, if you don't do this, I doubt Sam will want to be in the same room as you until you smell like you again."
When Dean didn't say anything in response, Cas figured it to be acceptance. He grabbed the scissors from the cabinet and slowly and gently cut shirt from the back until it fell to the floor.
After a few moments of patience…. "I believe to bathe properly, one must divest everything." Cas had to state again, very carefully.
"Yea, I...just give me a second." The hunter took in a shaky breath before forcing himself to bare himself completely naked. "Don't look." It was said almost as a plea, but added on much too late.
It was also unnecessary, behaving as if Cas had never seen Dean in such a state before. There was nothing about the human that the angel hadn't already seen, whether during his time of reconstruction after Hell, or in the brief months he watched from the invisible sidelines over his newly issued charge.
Years on earth, though, had taught him that humans, especially Dean's did not take that type of reminder lightly. So he kept quiet and closed his eyes as Dean shuffled around to turn on the water. On his side of the leash, Cas could feel Dean trying to maneuver himself into the shower and try to comfortably but efficiently get the job done. As far as Cas could tell, it wasn't going well. That was confirmed when Dean grumbled, "This isn't working."
"Do you want me…"
"Don't...Just…" Understanding what he wasn't secure enough to say or hear, Cas angle mojo-ed his clothes off and stepped into the shower behind Dean. "Just," Dean was practically hyperventilating, "just stay still and keep your eyes closed."
"Of course."
Except, Cas couldn't really bring himself to close his eyes again. It was hard enough forcing himself to not reach out and help Dean wash away the stink that had built up in the last few days. Anyways, it wasn't like he had to, with Dean's back to him, too embarrassed and tense to bother to turn around and soak his back.
Cas waited patiently as Dean washed, closing his eyes only when Dean twisted slightly to reach the harder parts of his body, though the hunter's eyes never wavered to Cas. Then, as the water cascaded down taunt and scarred muscles, Dean just stood with his head slightly bowed, his breaths heavy enough that Cas could see it in the way his body moved. Seconds passed and Cas was beginning to be concerned with the hunter's state of mind.
"Dean? Dean?" Carefully, he brought his hand gently onto the other's shoulder. His body shook at the contact. "Dean?" But still the only response were deep breaths, struggling to retain control. It was then that Cas remembered something that he should never have allowed to push aside to be momentarily forgotten, but was unavoidable to do so because of Dean's persisting devil-may-care attitude.
Dean Winchester had panic attacks...was in a state of panic that instant.
Not knowing what else to do, but knowing he shouldn't let them stay under the chilling water, Cas gathered his grace to fly them out of the restroom and into Dean's room, the door shut and locked. Close to the bed, Cas took hold of the comforter and swept it from the bed to wrap around Dean so he could no longer be bared naked and cold.
The hunter was still panicking, trying to catch a breath he didn't have. So Cas, still at a loss as to what he needed to do to ease the process, did his best to calm his friend. Slowly, and with great care, he pressed down on Dean's shoulder to signal that Dean should take a seat, which he did, his body shivering.
Having angel mojo-ed his clothes back onto himself, but unable to collect Dean's clothes, Cas kneeled before the hunter, his hand on his knee. Green eyes were glazed, struggling to focus, lost in whatever panic he had barricaded himself in.
"Dean," he whispered apologetically, "please breathe. Breathe." Then, as if Cas' voice alone had some kind of power, Dean did start to breathe properly. That did not mean, however, that his eyes focused.
Now that the important aspect was taken care of, Cas was willing to wait patiently for Dean to come back into himself on his own. Moments passed tensely until finally Dean managed to break himself out of his self-induced panic. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "I need clothes."
"Of course," but he couldn't gather them for a Dean without forcing him alone.
Like a zombie, Dean stood slowly with the comforter held tightly to himself to cover all sensitive areas. Without being told, Cas closed his eyes and turned himself around as much as possible without bothering Dean. Given a semblance of privacy, Dean hurriedly pulled on a pair of boxers. Once he was calm, he was able to regain his natural cool, and turned to Cas to say, "I see you angel mojo-ed your clothes on."
"They are commonalities that my graced naturally associates with my vessel. I…"
Dean give him the chance to say his apology. "Yea, I get. I guess."
For what seemed like long minutes, they stood staring at each other in awkward stillness. Or, Cas stared at Dean while the latter gazed off to the side. Cas was glad Dean was breathing regularly and that he had broken himself away from his panic, but he was still concerned about his mental stability. He wanted to talk about it, to find out what had happened to send Dean into such a vulnerable state, but he was aware of his friend's aversions to such conversations, and so decided to leave it for now. He didn't want to take the chance of Dean reverting back into the panic.
"Would you like to sit?" He asked soothingly. Dean did so without a word. "Are you tired or would you like to watch something on the laptop?"
Dean shook his head. "My earphones are in the drawer," he nodded to the nightstand. Cas stretched to obtain them for him.
While Dean listened to music to force himself to further calm down, Cas was content to watch him. He hated to see the tension in the hunter's body. Even now that the panic attack had subsided, he was still suffering from the drain. It was even worse that Cas knew that the majority of that panic was because of him. Cas just wished that he could understand the reasons behind it.
Sometime after Dean had fallen asleep, leaving Cas sitting by his side, a knock came at the door. Cas unlocked the door using his grace. Sam peeked inside."The shower was still on," he whispered, stepping quietly into the room, noticing immediately his brother's unconscious state.
"I apologize. I forgot to turn it off." Sam stared, silently asking for more. "Dean had a panic attack."
Hazel eyes widened in concern, fighting back the urge to step forward to check for himself his brother's security. "What happened?"
"I am unsure, but he has calmed."
Sam nodded, concern still evident. "Look after him."
"Of course."
