Chapter 18.
Supper in the bunker's kitchen was awkward. Sam would have preferred to be alone. The effort of maintaining the act was exhausting and he wasn't sure that anyone was fooled. His mother watched him and he could find no easy way to reassure her. He hated knowing that the helplessness she felt now was adding to the old guilt. She had never been there for him in the past and now that she was, it turned out that she couldn't help anyway. His long experience of failing to help Dean made him all too familiar with what she was feeling.
Jack and Cas were present in physical terms only. Both obediently ate a little food, but neither had much to say. Jack was trying to seem normal, but deception was not one of his talents. The way he would look at Cas, the natural person to which he could turn at times like this and then look away, because he was worried that Cas could not handle his distress was hard to watch.
Jack was a child, a toddler in real terms and he was trying to be strong for them. It was a lonely role in any family, to be the child who felt any weakness was too great a burden for the others to handle.
Bobby was trying hard to be the Bobby they needed, but he wasn't and his presence at the table just underlined for Sam how much he missed the other Bobby. He liked this Bobby well enough, but the one who, in his heart, would always be known as Real Bobby, would have known how to bring everyone together. So would Sarah Kranz, though she would also see too clearly how bad things were for Sam as well as the others.
Cas wasn't even pretending to engage with the others. He spoke when spoken to, but said nothing much. He initiated no conversation, even with Jack. From time to time, he would look at one of them with a trace of concern, but most of the time, his eyes seemed to be looking out over a wasteland none of them could see.
Sam knew what Dean would have done. He would have made jokes. He would have teased the silent ones into saying something, even if it were just, "Shut up, Dean!" He would have said something to Mary to stop her from feeling worthless. He would have talked to Bobby about fighting Michael, making it seem like they had a chance.
Sam was more acutely aware than usual that he was not the Winchester they needed either. He remembered how easily Jules had acknowledged and respected his act and her admission about her own.
There was a part of him, a selfish part, that wanted to drop the act and confess that he was barely holding it together. His mother could then try to take care of him, perhaps easing her pain and both Jack and Cas might find it easier to admit they were not coping well either.
They knew anyway. They had to know, just as he had always seen through Dean's pretences. That didn't mean a thing. Despite everything, Dean's invulnerable act had always given Sam a weird kind of comfort. The times of utter honesty tended to be the ones where Dean had lost the will to fight on or the strength to hide the struggle. A lie, however transparent, was oddly reassuring in their dysfunctional little band.
Sam ate purely to please his mother and avoid offending Bobby with his ingratitude. Bobby was a fair cook, from the Dean Winchester school of cuisine. His food was not on the brink of winning any awards for presentation, but it filled all the nooks and crannies and it tasted great. Generally, it tasted great. Losing his brother always shut down Sam's ability to taste or enjoy anything. "This is good, Bobby." he said, sure that it was objectively true.
"Glad you like it." said Bobby, "Feeding people is a lot easier in a world that still has grocery stores."
The uncomfortable silence returned. Sam looked at Cas and then at the barely touched plate in front of him, trying to signal to him that he should eat. Cas seemed not to notice. He was off in his solitary despondency again.
Mary was looking at Jack's plate. He had eaten some, but mostly, he was just pushing it around the plate. "Try to eat something, Jack." she said.
"I'm not really hungry." he said. It was a kind of lie. He was starving, but not for food. He was the one who had lost most. He was also the one least equipped to deal with the loss.
"Eat anyway." said Sam, "You'll feel better."
Jack gave a small nod and began to eat again. He didn't seem to believe it would fix anything and, in truth, it probably wouldn't, but by doing it, he could relieve some of their worry and he would do anything that might help to do that.
Cas looked from Jack to Sam and offered a slight nod of his own to Sam. The fact that he reacted at all was hopeful. Somewhere in there, he was still looking out for his son. If Cas felt useful or needed, he would stick around.
"Maybe Jules and Sarah should come here." said Mary.
"No." said Cas, immediately. "The farm is safer." he added.
"Then maybe we should all be at the farm." she said.
"The farm is safer because we are not there." said Cas.
She made no reply and Cas slipped back into silence. Jack looked at him and Cas evaded eye contact with any of them.
"I didn't mean anything." said Mary, aware that she had inadvertently hurt him, but not sure how.
"Things are complicated." said Sam, trying not to offend anyone.
"Angels are complicated." said Bobby.
"Compared to humans?" said Cas. His eyes glittered dangerously as he looked at Bobby for the first time in ages.
"I just mean that talking to angels can be hard." said Bobby.
"Then don't." said Cas and he got up to leave.
"Cas, wait." said Sam.
"For what?" said Cas.
"Cas, Bobby didn't mean to upset you." said Mary.
"He didn't." said Cas, "Goodnight, everyone." He left.
"He's going to leave soon, isn't he?" said Jack.
"No." said Sam, hoping he could prevent that.
"I'm sorry." said Bobby, "Everything I say to him seems to be wrong."
"It's not your fault." said Sam, "We're all walking on eggshells over lava where Cas is concerned."
"Not just Cas." said his mother, so quietly that he suspected only he heard.
He looked into her eyes and said, "Things will be better soon, for all of us."
"Yes." she said.
Winchester lies, soothing and scary, like the hug of a straitjacket.