A/N: I'm already doing better about updating. Hope you like it!

When they got outside to the little garden in the back yard, Dean gave Castiel a list of vegetables to dig up. He had gotten the cabbage and onion already and had moved on to digging up carrots. He was holding three of them up in a line when Dean walked by.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"You said 3 medium carrots and the one in the middle is clearly not medium," Castiel said, looking up from where he was crouching on the ground.

"Cas, it's just a recommendation. It doesn't need to be perfect. That's what so great about cooking. Not everything needs to be exact. Trust me, it'll be fine."

"Haven't heard that in a while," Castiel said quietly, placing the carrots in the basket with the other vegetables.

"What d'you mean Cas?" Dean asked, his voice softer than before.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon man, you can talk to me."

"The first time I heard that, my older brother Michael was trying to keep me from hearing my mother leave."

Castiel had been eleven. He had been playing Clue with Michael in his room when the shouting had started. It wasn't really anything new at the time so Castiel had tried to ignore it. Michael had raised his voice a little to try and drown it out. Then, they started hearing things breaking, which, again, wasn't entirely out of the ordinary but it still scared Castiel whenever it happened. Michael had pulled Castiel into his lap, which he usually didn't allow, but this time he went willingly. By the time they heard the front door slam shut, he was listening to Michael speak softly about something Castiel couldn't remember anymore. The only thing that he recalled was Michael murmuring, "It'll be fine, I swear." Castiel knew this fight was different from the others over the past few years because neither of his parents had ever left before. That night, they had slept tucked together in Castiel's bed. They stuck a little closer to each other after that.

Life had been tense after that, their father putting so much of himself into his work that he was hardly home any more. Their mother came back one day during summer vacation while their father was at work to grab her things. She gave the boys the option to leave with her. Raphael and Uriel went with her, leaving just Michael and Castiel. They didn't hear from them after that. Occasionally, Michael would tell Castiel that "everything'll be fine." Michael had had to put college on hold to care for his brother and Castiel hated his father for it. Michael was only nineteen and was already a parent. They had a routine down by the time their father left. Father hadn't been home in almost a month when Castiel finally realized that he might not be coming back at all. Usually they only saw his car anyways, but he had still been there. Michael didn't talk about it. Father continued to send them money every month and Castiel could see Michael struggling to remain loyal to an absent father. They stayed in the house even though Castiel could tell how much it hurt both of them to be there. Michael continued with his mantra of "everything will be fine" even though Castiel could see that he had stopped believing that a while ago. When he had been accepted to college, he left as soon as possible. He talked to Michael every once in a while now but they never talked about it. Michael had gotten married, had a few kids but Castiel had only seen pictures of the family lately, a holiday postcard or an email once or twice a year. When this whole fiasco was over, Castiel was going to fly out to see Michael.

He finished telling Dean this and wiped at his eyes, removing any trace of the moisture that had appeared. Dean held out a hand to help Castiel to his feet. He took it gratefully and for a moment, neither of them let go. Castiel's brain finally caught up and he let go quickly, looking down and brushing off the dirt that had collected on his knees. When he looked up again, Dean gave him a small smile and said "I'm sorry" before clearing his throat, obviously a little uncomfortable with the direction this conversation had taken and quickly changed the subject.

"So how do you feel about chicken stew?" Dean asked, walking over to the chicken coop and grabbing one of the larger birds.

"I like it, if that's what you mean."

"Good," Dean said before breaking the chicken's neck. Castiel could feel his jaw drop in shock. Dean looked up at him and laughed, saying, "Where did you think chicken came from?"

"The freezer section," Castiel said. Dean just laughed again and made his way back into the house to start cooking.

Everything went pretty smoothly after that. Dean cleaned the chicken while Castiel cleaned and chopped vegetables. They worked well together, managing to stay out of each other's way. Dean did most of the actual cooking while Castiel went out to the dining room and set the table. When he was almost finished, Dean came up behind him and looked over the table before nodding and saying "not bad" before dragging Castiel back into the kitchen.

Dean stirred the pot again before holding spoon up to Castiel's mouth. There were probably incredibly inappropriate noises coming from him when he tasted it, but this might have been the best thing he'd ever eaten.

Dean grinned and asked, "Good then?"

"It's amazing," Castiel replied earnestly. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"I cooked a lot for Sam when we were growing up," Dean shrugged. "Dad was a cop and he worked late a lot. He was obsessed with finding the guy who killed my mom when I was four. He'd make up breakfast and tuck us in at night but dinner was usually left up to me. I wasn't gonna let Sammy grow up on poptarts."

Castiel just nodded before Dean spoke again, saying, "C'mon let's get this dished up. I'm starving."