A/N: Thank you guest, Pony for your review! Pets make awesome therapy. ^_^ One more step toward healing!
Chapter 7
Castiel sat on the couch in the den adjacent to the library, Lina curled up next to him with her head resting on his thigh. She was currently sleeping, soft snores snuffling from her nose. Castiel knew Dean didn't like her on the furniture, but he couldn't bring himself to make her move. Her companionship was oddly comforting, a silent, steady rock in the maelstrom of his tumultuous thoughts and feelings.
Castiel knew Sam and Dean were trying their best, but this entire thing was difficult for them, wearing on their nerves on occasion. Lina, on the other hand, never judged or became irritated with him when his emotions grew so strong he had to distance himself from everyone, physically and mentally. No, the golden lab would either plop down a couple of feet away from him, or pace a circle around Castiel, as though creating a protective barrier. It was silly, and yet it almost seemed to help and he was able to regain control of himself more quickly.
At Sam's request, Castiel had been helping with seeing to Lina's basic needs. Dean may have agreed to let the dog stay in the bunker, but he'd said upfront that she was to be Sam's and Castiel's responsibility. It made sense for Castiel to help, since Lina could easily tell him when she was hungry, or needed to be let outside. Other than that, though, she didn't talk much. Which was fine by Castiel, as he wasn't feeling very conversational, either.
Also, with Lina around the Winchesters were finally giving Castiel a little more space. They still never left him completely alone; one of them was always in the same room or within shouting distance, but at least they weren't hovering right next to him. Castiel would have found the reversal of personal space invasion ironic if he hadn't been overwhelmed with everything else at the time.
Sam came into the room, a book in hand. "I found the next one in the series…" He trailed off as he took in the open paperback in Castiel's lap.
Castiel had barely gotten a third of the way through it, despite having started two days ago, and not because it wasn't interesting. It was actually quite a different experience to read a story for himself, rather than just relying on the information Metatron had downloaded into his brain to fill in the blanks. But it was just so hard to concentrate sometimes, and the magnitude of the character's plight rang a little too close to home—the anguish and hopelessness that anything could ever be okay again. Knowing the ending of the story didn't help, because the resolution only covered the triumph over evil, not what came after for the war-torn heroes. And, as Castiel knew, it wasn't all 'rainbows and butterflies' like books always made it out to be.
Sam set the paperback on the end table, giving him a small smile. "We should take Lina for a walk."
The dog perked up at that, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn.
Castiel frowned. "She doesn't need to urinate right now."
Sam shook his head in what seemed like fond exasperation. "No, I mean a walk. I think dogs are supposed to get thirty minutes a day or something."
Castiel hesitated. He hadn't thought about that, but it made sense. Part of a healthy lifestyle included exercise, even for a dog. Castiel didn't necessarily want to be the one to take her; Sam could handle that part. But Lina was now looking at him expectantly, and he didn't want to disappoint her after she'd been so kind keeping him company. Sam was also casting him surreptitiously hopeful glances, and so he relented.
"Alright."
Lina jumped off the couch and started wagging her tail. Castiel rose to his feet slowly. He could do this. He'd left the bunker before, several times. And he would not let himself be defined by his last failed attempt.
Sam led the way to the stairs, shooting concerned looks at Castiel, which only made him bristle. Lina bounded up the steps, and Castiel forced himself to march straight up them without stopping. He pushed the outer door open and plunged into brilliant sunlight.
For a split second, the fresh air was a shock to his system, but then he remembered how to breathe, and with his next inhale came the familiar aromas of wet leaves and pollen. Lina darted to the tree line, nose sailing along the ground and up tree trunks. Sam came to a stop at Castiel's shoulder, a wide smile on his face. It rankled Castiel that something as simple and trite as stepping foot out the door would make Sam so proud. And then of course he chastised himself for feeling resentful at all when the Winchesters had obvious reason to be worried about him.
Castiel cleared his throat. "Which way do you want to go?" he asked, voice slightly gruff.
Sam took the lead, and Castiel reluctantly followed. Lina quickly fell into step with them, sometimes trotting ahead, sometimes stopping to sniff something interesting in the surrounding foliage. Sam didn't try to chat with Castiel, for which he was grateful. He was focusing too much on making sure this little excursion went without incident.
At first, he was wary of Sam watching him too closely, just waiting for something to happen. But Sam seemed to be enjoying the scenery and fresh air himself, chuckling at Lina when she bounded after a squirrel. He shared an amused smile with Castiel. It was…nice. Pleasant.
Until Lina startled a raven, which exploded from a nearby bush and shot right in front of Sam and Castiel to escape. The swish of wings and black feathers dislodged Castiel's frame of mind so violently, he didn't realize what had happened. He only knew that suddenly he was surrounded by angels in a forest at night. They were grabbing his arms and wrenching them behind his back painfully. He knew what came next, and his heart jolted with terror. He expected to feel the cold snap of steel around his wrists…
But the sensation he felt instead was a cold wetness slurping across his hand and between his fingers. The memory tried to maintain a hold on him, tried to drag him into that warehouse where the rattle of chains echoed against cement walls.
The licking increased to the point of obnoxiousness, the slick tongue tickling Castiel's fingers. He jolted out of the flashback and blinked to find himself standing in the woods in daylight. There were no angels, just Lina licking his hand and Sam standing at his shoulder, watching worriedly.
"Cas?" he called. "It's okay, you're safe. You're outside the bunker and nothing else is here but us."
Castiel felt his face flush hotly. Dammit, he'd been trying so hard. He jerked his hand away from Lina's ministrations, and she looked up at him with a small whine.
"I'm sorry," he ground out between forced breaths.
Sam heaved a sigh. "You don't have to apologize for this, Cas. It's not your fault."
"I shouldn't be this weak," he muttered. His pulse was still racing.
"It's not a weakness. Cas, do you have any idea how strong you are for dealing with this?"
Castiel shot him a dubious look.
Sam just shook his head. "I'm serious. Everything you've been through…I know you wanted to give up, maybe still do sometimes. But you're still here. And that matters, Cas. That means everything."
Castiel glanced away. Maybe that was true. Sam certainly seemed to believe it was. But Castiel didn't feel strong. He felt lost and adrift, a shadow of who he used to be. He'd once been a warrior, and he didn't know how to find himself again.
Sam glanced down at Lina. "Did that work?" he asked, looking back up at Castiel. "Did Lina snap you out of it? It only looked bad for a short moment, not even a full minute, I don't think."
Castiel blinked, taken aback. He hadn't been in the flashback that long? Perhaps that was correct. He couldn't really remember how long the instant itself was, only the fear and expectation that it would continue.
"I…suppose she did."
Lina nudged his knee with her nose and turned warm, honey-brown eyes up at him. Castiel moved his hand back and patted her head. Thank you.
Lina's jaw dropped open to pant, expression imitating a smile. Sam was beaming, too. He clapped Castiel on the shoulder and asked if he wanted to continue the walk.
Castiel hesitated only a fraction of a second, and then nodded. With Sam and Lina…he actually did feel safe.
Sam was beyond thrilled with the progress Cas was making. It may have felt inconsequential to the angel, but Sam knew how important each tiny step was. Lina had turned out to be a godsend indeed, intuitively knowing what Cas needed, when he needed it. If finding a random stray with that much influence didn't say God was still keeping an eye on them, Sam didn't know what did.
But Lina was only helping with some of the more tangible problems associated with Cas's PTSD. There was still the emotional stuff to work through, and today Sam had decided to tackle part of it by helping Cas personalize his room in the bunker. A task easier said than done.
Sam surveyed the bare walls and minimal furnishings while Cas sat on his bed and watched dubiously, Lina lounging on the floor at his feet. Dean wasn't around; he'd taken off earlier that morning on some unexplained errand, saying he'd be back in a day or so. Sam had asked if he was going on a hunt, but Dean denied it. He told Sam to relax and not have any wild parties while he was gone, which left Sam vexed and a little hurt. They were supposed to be past keeping secrets.
Or maybe Dean just wanted to go out and get some action, but didn't want Cas thinking Dean was trying to escape him. Sam wouldn't begrudge Dean needing a break from…well, all this. It could be draining. But Sam wasn't clocking out yet, not even for a short time.
"If there's anything you want, we can call Dean and tell him to pick it up on his way back," Sam said. He could still put his brother to work.
Cas glanced around the room. "I don't need anything."
Sam pursed his mouth. He could actually relate in this situation. He and Dean had spent so much of their lives on the road that personalizing things just wasn't something they did outside the Impala, and that was Dean's space. Even when they'd moved into the bunker, Dean had settled in—nested—a lot quicker than Sam had.
But even though it had taken time—okay, a couple of years—Sam now thought of the bunker as home, and his room now had an extra mounted shelf for books, along with other knickknacks he'd picked up from the artifacts room or just out on the road. He even had a silly little paperweight in the shape of the 'I-Love-You' sign that Eileen had sent him. The room was no longer his designated place to sleep, but his. And he wanted Cas to feel the same way about his space.
"We could find some art to hang," Sam suggested. "Or…uh, other things." He'd been about to mention Dean's armory display on his walls, but still wasn't comfortable with the idea of Cas being surrounded by weapons. "Or maybe a plant. I think there are some that can grow without any sunlight."
"Sam," Cas interrupted. "I appreciate the interest." He actually didn't sound as though that were necessarily true. "But what's the point of doing this?"
"So you can feel at home, like this room is yours and you belong here."
"I'm not sure how art and a houseplant accomplishes that."
"It just…does." Sam shrugged. "Didn't you pick up anything that had sentimental value while you were human? Or since then? You've pretty much been living on earth for a while now."
Cas's expression pinched slightly, and he looked away. Lina lifted her head, craning her neck back to gaze up at him. She nudged his shin with her nose, giving Sam a clue that something was bothering Cas and he was trying to hide it. Sam was immensely thankful for the dog's ability to give them cues on how Cas was really feeling; it helped Sam, at least, keep accountable with actually broaching the subject instead of ignoring it.
Sam pulled the chair out from the writing desk and took a seat. "Cas? What's wrong?"
Cas shook his head, and gave a weak smile. "Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry, Sam, I know this is important to you, but I don't have anything like that. I've never been able to stay in a place long enough to keep anything of value, sentimental or otherwise."
Sam was about to ask him what the heck he meant by that, but then it hit him. Dean kicking human Cas out of the bunker because of Gadreel. Cas had sought shelter with them on a few occasions before, but that time he'd been at his utmost need, and Dean had shown him the door.
That wasn't Sam's fault or doing, but before he could congratulate himself on his sensitivity, he remembered how when Cas's stolen grace had been burning him out, Sam hadn't asked him to stay at the bunker. Sam had been solely focused on finding Dean, and, he was loathe to admit it, he'd viewed Cas as a liability. Sam hadn't wanted to take care of a dying angel when his brother was out there somewhere after having died himself.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. Dammit, just how many times had he and Dean unintentionally reinforced Cas's sense of self-worth and expendability? If he could go back and do things differently…oh, so many things.
But that kind of wishful thinking was a waste of energy. Sam needed to work on fixing things now.
"Well," he said, more subdued. "You'll have plenty of time to accumulate stuff here." He cleared his throat and tried to smile again. "But I still think we should do something to make this place feel more homey. Concrete walls aren't exactly nice to look at all the time."
Cas's mouth pursed in thought. "There are plants that thrive in dark places. The Snake Plant is attractive, and is a useful air purifier. And…"
"And what?" Sam prompted.
"A Peace Lily. I don't know why it's called that, as it doesn't possess any peace creating properties. But its white flowers are beautiful, as are the dark green leaves…" Cas promptly clamped his mouth shut. "It's just a suggestion."
Sam smiled in encouragement. "It's a good one, Cas. I'll look up a local nursery and see if they have those."
"If not…"
"Then I'll keep looking until I find them." He stood up again, excusing himself to get his laptop. They might have to look at some home decorator sites to help Cas come up with more ideas of what he might like in his room.
So it was probably a good thing Dean wasn't around to mock them. Sam pulled out his phone and sent his brother a quick text. "Everything going okay?"
He headed back to Cas's room with the computer, and took a seat on the bed to start browsing stores. His phone chimed a minute later. "Fine. You?"
Shaking his head at his brother's irritating laconicism, Sam typed out his equally sparse reply. "We're good."
"Good. Make sure Cas eats dinner."
"Yes, Mom."
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
"Is Dean alright?" Cas spoke up.
Sam held the phone out for Cas to read the messages, and the angel's slightly indignant look made him grin.
"Why wouldn't he tell us where he was going?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know."
Cas's mouth thinned. "You're not worried?"
He took a moment to consider it. "No. Things aren't like they used to be, and there's no reason for Dean to go off and do something stupid." In fact, there was a very good reason not to, sitting right next to him. As for what his brother was actually up to, Sam had no idea.
A/N: Hmm, what could Dean be doing... Not picking up women, in case you were in doubt. ;)
