Sam was awakened by the rumbling of his stomach. He slept for a long time and his body was in need of fuel. He felt hungry and tired –the kind of weariness that comes from oversleeping. He got up and stretched his long limbs ungracefully and he could feel the bone-deep ache and dizziness. He was still sore everywhere and sometimes, he wonders if he would continue feeling like that for the rest of his life. Unhealthy, out of breath, dizzy. He shoved the thought aside because it's too early to wallow in self pity and unceremoniously bumped into a table before carrying his huge body to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Shower has got to wait because he's too damn hungry to care.
He walked to the kitchen in hopes of smelling the strong aroma of freshly brewed coffee and probably some pancakes. He could eat a huge stack of pancakes right now. But to his disappointment, he found nothing on the kitchen counter and no one was around either. Of all days to sleep in, of course Dean picks the one day that Sam is in need of glorious food. He sauntered to Dean's bedroom, fully intending to scare him awake when he saw Dean kneeling before Castiel.
What the hell?
There was a bundled towel that looked drenched in blood on the floor next to Dean and Sam walked in hurriedly.
"Dean, what happened?"
"Cas had an accident while shaving."
Sam walked over to Dean's side to take a look at whatever that Dean was doing. He hissed when he saw the deep cut Dean was cleaning and felt the hair on his hand stand at the thought of the pain. But Castiel seemed to be holding himself together, except for the tears welling in his eyes.
"Oh my… You okay Cas?"
"I am fine, Sam. It was a minor accident. Don't worry."
"How did you…?" Sam stopped. His eyes suddenly widened in what looked like terror and he shut his mouth abruptly.
"Pass me that plaster," Dean ordered.
Sam quickly turned around and had to hold onto the bedside table for a second as he felt the room spin a little. He turned too fast. Vertigo.
"Sam?" Dean called out.
"Here," Sam put the plaster in Dean's open palm and sat down next to Castiel before he fainted.
From this position, he could examine Castiel's face. And this confirmed his suspicion. Sam felt more nauseous than before and he has a feeling that it has less to do with his current state of health and more to do with the realisation of what happened. He kept his mouth shut, afraid to say another word as though he might just tip Castiel off the cliff he's hanging and this time, Dean might fall off with him.
After Dean had wrapped up Castiel's right cheek with enough cotton that he looked like he just had a facial surgery, Dean turned to Sam.
He sighed deeply before asking, "How you feelin' today, Sasquatch?"
Sam was so close to answering 'Same old.' but stopped himself because Dean has a lot on his plate today. He doesn't even know it yet or maybe he already guessed it but either way, Dean already has one poor bastard to take care today and Sam doesn't need to add to the list.
"Better."
Dean eyed him disbelievingly so Sam had to say something else to divert Dean from his head to toe health scan.
"I'm starving though."
"Yeah, late breakfast today. Wanna eat outside?"
"I want pancakes," Sam said.
Dean laughed a little because he would have considered it a very child-like request, only that it came from a gargantuan man. No matter how big and wise Sam has become, he always has traces of the 6 year old Sammy that would beg Dean to play hide and seek. Maybe it's just Dean but Sam still has a little of… –he wouldn't call it innocence because that's long gone but he doesn't know how else to put it- a little off his Sammy when times were less complicated and sharing his cereal seemed like the ultimate sacrifice.
"Cas? Pancakes? Sound good to you?" Dean asked.
Castiel just nodded absently.
"Okay then. Pancakes it is. We'll do the laundry on the way home. And buy some stuff for Cas."
When it was time to go, Dean climbed in the driver's seat and started the car. Sam had the front door open and was about to get in when he glanced at Castiel. He watched Castiel intently as he walked towards the car distractedly. Castiel opened the back seat door but Sam stopped him before he entered.
"Why don't you ride shotgun today?"
Castiel's eyes widened and he almost looked a little excited like a kid that got offered cotton candy but unfortunately had to resist.
"It's okay. Thank you."
"No, Cas. I insist. Sit in front. It'll do me some good to lie behind. Feeling a lil… you know, dizzy."
With that, Castiel smiled so wide that Sam couldn't help but laugh at him.
"Thank you, Sam," Castiel said as he climbed in.
Dean glanced at his brother from his rear view mirror as though checking for any signs of distress or hidden anger. Sam just smiled reassuringly. Dean understood that Sam was just trying to be nice to Castiel.
When they reached the restaurant, Sam order Pecan Pancakes with hot tropical syrup and Dean ordered Bacon Pancakes with extra strips of bacon and egg. Castiel just stared at the menu.
The waitress waited in silence for a while before asking, "And you, sir?"
Castiel seemed a little anxious and he looked at Dean who was seated opposite of him.
"I don't know what to order, Dean. I have never ate pancakes."
The waitress laughed a little, disbelievingly.
"You've never ate pancakes?" she asked Castiel.
"No. I did not have the necessity to fuel my body with food before. Now, I just eat whatever people offer me. I have learnt not to be choosy," he answered seriously.
The waitress looked perplexed and her eyes swivelled from Sam to Dean, expecting them to say something.
Sam fake laughed to diffuse the awkwardness and retorted, "He's always cracking jokes like that. Don't mind him."
The waitress relaxed visibly while Dean just eyed Sam like 'Seriously, that's the best you can come up with?' and Sam responded with a glare that said 'Why don't you cover up next time?'
"You want something sweet or savoury, Cas?" Dean asked.
"If it is possible, I would like to have something sweet."
"Do you want me to suggest something?"
"Yes, please."
"Try the blueberry pancakes with whipped butter and blueberry compote. You can't go wrong with that."
Castiel smiled and turned to the waitress, "I will have whatever Dean just suggested, please."
"Okay. Blueberry pancakes then."
"And can I have coffee? Lots of coffee. I have acquired a taste for it," he smiled again.
"Sure. Should I just bring the pot? You can serve it yourself among the three of you."
Castiel looked to Dean for an answer so the waitress turned towards him too.
"Yes. A pot and three cups."
When the waitress turned to leave, Castiel held her wrist lightly and uttered, "Thank you."
The waitress felt a little flattered by the gratitude but the situation was still awkward so she gave him an odd smile before scrambling away. Dean and Sam were busy listing down all the things they need to get for Castiel. His own clothes and shoes and socks and stuffs. When the pancakes were served, Dean waited expectantly for Castiel to try his first bite of pancake.
"So… how is it?"
Castiel chewed with his eyes closed despite the stinging pain from the cuts and said, "The blueberries are real."
Dean snorted at that and retorted, "No shit, Sherlock."
"I think he meant it's not just blueberry flavoured pancakes, it has real blueberries," Sam helpfully provided.
Dean urged, "Try it with the syrup, Cas."
Castiel poured a little syrup at the side cautiously and took another bite. He hummed his approval.
"This tastes really good, Dean. Thank you."
Dean wore the sort of smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. He took a bite of his own bacon pancake before laughing. Castiel kept his focus entirely on his food and coffee so Dean dared to make a joke quietly.
"Tastes like… heaven?"
He said it so softly that only Sam who had been paying attention heard and Sam quickly dropped his utensils to throw a bitch face at Dean.
"Dean!"
He fully intended to reprimand Dean but before he could, Dean cleared his throat and said, "Too soon?"
"Yeah. How 'bout never?" Sam scolded.
Castiel was clueless and asked, "What are you talking about?"
Good thing he is no longer a celestial being with sharp hearing and huge wings because he would have disappeared right about this second if he heard what Dean said. He's still too sore about everything.
"Nothing. Wanna try mine?" Dean pushed his plate towards Castiel, offering him his pancake.
Castiel took a bite of it and made a mental note about his acquired taste for pancakes now. Sam also offered a bite from his plate and Castiel began talking about the simple delights of being human and how pancakes are his most favourite food now. For the first time in a long time, all three of them felt content to be with each other's company.
*****
In the laundry shop, Sam taught Castiel how to operate the washing machine while Dean sorted through their clothes, making sure there was absolutely nothing in their pockets. Castiel helped Sam to pick up the clothes and stuff them in the machine as Sam sat down for a while, feeling worn out already. This must be how it felt to be a 65 year old man. No, make it 70. It's next to impossible for the Winchesters to live that long but Sam sure does experience the weariness of age. He turned around to locate Castiel when he saw Castiel approaching a lady with a sense of urgency.
"Sister? Ariel, do you remember me? I'm Castiel."
The lady just stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights when the younger lady standing next to her replied, "I'm sorry. I think you got the wrong person."
'Oh no. Shit!' Sam thinks before he got up and strolled unsteadily towards them.
Dean had also noticed the potential problem and walked over to Castiel's side.
"Sorry, you look a lot like a friend. He just took you for someone else," Sam covered up.
Castiel was extremely upset so Dean pulled him away.
"What you doing, Cas? Who is she? An angel?" He whispered harshly.
Castiel couldn't tear his eyes away from the lady.
"Cas, look here. She doesn't remember you. She doesn't remember anything, man. Hell, none of the angels do. Except you."
"I know," Castiel nodded solemnly as he watched her walk out of the shop. "I know," he reiterated more to himself than to anyone else.
"It's best that she doesn't remember," Castiel uttered softly.
Sam squeezed Castiel's shoulder comfortingly.
"Yeah. Be grateful none of them do. Or she would have ganked you right here, right now," Dean said absent-mindedly.
Castiel's eyes snapped from the ground to Dean in a fraction of a second and he threw a dagger stare.
"Do you really think that's what I'm worried about? The angels killing me?" He raised his voice with every word.
"Ssshh… Keep it down, Cas," Sam said as he offered a fake smile at the guy at the counter.
"I am relieved she doesn't remember anything because the knowledge of what was and what has become of everything will hurt immensely, Dean. I cannot care less about the consequences I have to bear because I deserve it," Castiel spat out and stormed off the shop towards the car.
"What the hell, dude?" Sam asked as he felt himself getting intensely annoyed.
"What?" Dean asked petulantly. "I was just saying—"
Sam interjected, "Maybe you shouldn't say anything any more. Not everyone can stand having you jab and prod at unhealed wounds, Dean."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that Castiel isn't me. You can't keep reminding him of his mistakes and expect him to stay. You keep going at him like that and you'll lose him, that's all I'm saying."
Sam walked outside and guided Cas to sit in the car, letting Dean wait alone for the laundry. Dean was beginning to feel furious at that statement. Sam just insinuated that Dean keeps reminding him of his mistakes and Sam still puts up with it. Well, yes, Dean sometimes reminds him of Ruby or the times he walked around with no soul because those things still hurt and Dean isn't completely over it. He speaks of it not because he wants Sam to feel guilty -he sure as hell knows how sorry Sam is. He speaks of it because he needs an outlet to let out the building steam. He points it out to Sam because he is still afraid that someday, Sam might make the same mistake of not trusting Dean and he can't have that.
'God, can't I even be upset once in a while without being afraid of losing everyone?' Dean wondered.
*****
In the shopping mall, Dean let Sam bring Castiel around to look at clothes. He was still silently brooding over Sam's outburst and he figured it's best to shut up. Castiel stood at the aisle of coats and scanned them. He obviously is very fond of his trench coat. Maybe he feels comfortable and safe when he looks more like Jimmy Novak. Sam told him he needs to sit for a while to catch his breath and walked over to where Dean was seated. Dean stubbornly looked away.
"Dean, do you notice something wrong?" Sam asked as though nothing happened.
Dean didn't answer at first because he thought Sam was mocking his silence but something in the tone of his voice indicated that Sam was asking about something entirely different. There's a sense of urgency in his voice. A need to keep his voice down so no one but Dean can hear him.
"Like what?"
"Cas. His shaving accident is quite focused in one region, don't you think?"
Dean returned Sam's gaze.
"Like look at it, man. He only has cuts on one side. Everywhere else, he shaved just fine," Sam added.
"Maybe he was nervous at first but got a hang of it."
"Seriously, dude? Do those cuts look normal to you? I mean, I cut myself the first time I shaved too but it wasn't as deep. Or as many."
Dean isn't going to lie, he thought about it the minute he saw it. The cuts look too… deliberate. But he didn't want to mention it. If you don't speak about it, the issue magically disappears. That's Dean Winchester's logic. He may be in a denial but he knows deep down that Sam's right.
"What are you implying?"
"Maybe… maybe Cas did it on purpose?"
Dean remained silent at that because he refused to entertain the idea but he knows damn well that it isn't an assumption. It's a fair observation. It's a fact staring him in the face.
"The more important question is, would this be the last time or is Cas… I don't know. Suicidal maybe?" Sam asked cautiously.
"He can't be a part of Team Free Will if he's not fucked up. Fits the profile."
"You don't seem all that surprised. Which means you know something I don't," Sam eyed his brother suspiciously.
Dean just kept his mouth shut. He knows Castiel is suicidal. He just doesn't know what to do about it.
"What, Dean? Tell me," Sam urged.
"After escaping from Purgatory, Cas refused to go to heaven, remember? I asked him why and he said if he sees the devastation he caused, he's afraid he might kill himself. And now, after this shit…"
"And you're only telling me this now?"
"Why? Could you have done something about it if I told you?" Dean asked exasperatedly.
"No… but you could have-"
"Who are you kidding? You're not exactly the person to preach here, are you Sam? As far as I recall, you were close to giving up yourself."
Sam shut his mouth at that. Because he knows what he almost did. In fact, in the dead of the night, he still wishes sometimes that he went through with the plan because he would have at least left behind a safer world for everyone. A better place for Dean. But he also knows that Dean isn't the poster child for sanity because there have been numerous occasions when Dean admitted to having impulses to put a gun to his head and end it. But the difference is that Sam and Dean live for each other. They can't bear to abandon the other person and that's the relentless driving force to propel them forward. To hang on another day. With Castiel, he doesn't have much to hang on to. He has lost his family, his home, his purpose, everything. Sam can only hope that Castiel will hold on for the Winchesters.
The boys watched Castiel run his fingers over a trench coat.
"We're all messed up, huh?"
"Very much so."
