After Dean finished explaining exactly what Busty Asian Beauties was (and after a few very awkward questions posed by Castiel), Castiel decided to tell Dean his theory about the bag and how he thought only angels could see it. Dean seemed to agree. Then Dean got Castiel the correct book and went to look up information and current events the shapeshifter may have been involved in.
"Hello, this is Andrew Pike, news investigator for the Rapid City Gazette." Dean smoothly posed as an editor for a newspaper on the other side of the state. "I wanted to ask: Has there been anything you've noticed a growing trend in? Oh? Really? We had a trend in that just last week. Interesting. No. No. Yes, of course. Thanks. You too. Bye." Dean hung up just as Castiel came in with four quesadillas and a jar of salsa.
"Find out anything?"
"Yeah, actually. All in the last few weeks, couples have been announcing their engagement."
"That's... odd."
"Here's the kick: shortly after, they get married. And one of the two drops dead in a freak accident."
"Okay. So what do you think is going on?"
"Cas, I got this case solved already. You tell me. If you're human, you might as well be more independent and figure out puzzles. I can't always take charge."
"Yes, Dean, you can. You've been doing it for years."
"What?"
"With Sam."
"Cas, he's been human for most of his life. You're new. Think like a human. Solve the case, Sherlock." At that, Dean took a large bite of his quesadilla.
Oh my God it's
really
really
good.
It was without a doubt the best quesadilla Dean Winchester had ever had. It was the perfect mix of cayenne pepper and Dijon mustard with grilled chicken and tomato. There was, of course, cheese and a hint of guacamole in it, all cooked to a satisfying crunchiness. Castiel had picked a good recipe. Or he was just a really good cook.
This is so much better than the toast with the butter on both sides.
That was disgusting.
He looked up at Castiel, who was thinking intently.
"Okay, Dean, this is what I think: If it's a shapeshifter like you said it was, maybe it is getting people married and then killing off the other half of the couple. But they need some kind of motivation. Shapeshifters don't just kill others off for the sake of death and destruction."
"Benefits."
"How is there a benefit from killing people?"
"When people get married, they share a house and a bank account and stocks and all that nice expensive stuff. When half the couple dies, everything goes to the living half, who isn't really the other half, but..."
"The shapeshifter." Castiel nodded with sudden comprehension.
Dean smiled and took another bite, watching Castiel process this new information while chewing on the other quesadilla quietly.
Dean looked at his food, and, dipping it in the salsa, added as an afterthought:
Well, at least there's no butter.
After Castiel fell asleep on the couch, Dean had finished off his third beer. He shut the laptop to let it charge and looked at Castiel, thinking that he should teach him how to use a computer. Realizing he had been using Sam's laptop for everything, he breathed a soft chuckle.
Sam's gonna kill me if Cas ends up breaking it. It was my idea after all.
Sam.
Sam.
There's no use worrying if you ain't got any leads, right?
Sam.
Dean took the the sleeping man upstairs and lay him on his bed. Walking down the hall to his own room, he ached for sleep. He kicked off his boots, jeans, overcoat, and jacket. Falling into the bed, he closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. His mind was far from easy.
That was a good supper.
Where's Sam?
Cas should cook more often.
Sammy.
And what was with that pose from Busty Asian Beauties?
Dean what the hell-
I thought-
WHAT THE HELL-
I-
Just go to sleep.
Sleep.
I can't believe Cas would do something like that for me.
No.
He can't.
That means he cares-
NO. He can't.
Look how many time he's done things just for you-
No.
He went to hell and back for you.
No.
Literally.
No.
I don't deserve this from him. From anyone.
He cares.
All I do is disappoint.
He cares.
He shouldn't.
But he does.
Dean had a hard time falling asleep that night. On the other hand, Castiel slept like a log.
When Dean woke up the next morning, Castiel was already downstairs, working on breakfast. Dean threw on a ratty old pair of jeans and went down.
"Good morning, Dean. I made pancakes." Castiel smiled softly. "There's syrup on the table."
Dean sat down in front of a pile of pancakes, taking in the meal, he realized Castiel had put the wrong kind of syrup on the table.
"Cas..." He couldn't bring himself to hurt his friend after the hard work he'd done. "everything looks delicious." Smiling up at Castiel, he decided to risk it and poured chocolate syrup on his pancakes. Hell, he liked chocolate-chip pancakes, so why shouldn't he put chocolate syrup on plain pancakes?
As Dean slathered the chocolate syrup on the pancakes, Castiel looked at the cookbook, closed it, and began to eat. He looked at Dean with mild interest.
I wonder if the chocolate syrup tastes better than the maple syrup the book said to use.