Billie walked past and glanced through the books Cas had sorted. Frowning, she picked one up. "Since when was Harry Potter non-fiction?"
"Hmm? Oh, sorry." He took it from her and moved it into the pile for children's fiction.
"Is everything okay?"
"Fine."
"Really? Because I don't want to regret hiring you if you think magic is real," she said teasingly.
When Cas looked at her, she seemed genuinely concerned about him. Castiel's shoulders sagged as he realised that, as his boss, she needed to know why his mind wasn't entirely focused on his work. "I lost someone the other day. Someone I considered to be a good friend. Possibly even a father-figure."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"Thank you."
"But should you really be here, if your mind is elsewhere?"
"I want to be here. I need to be here."
"Okay. But if I think you're not up to it, I'll send you home. And I won't hear any arguments about it."
"I understand."
"Good," she said, moving to walk away.
He loaded the returned books onto the cart. "Billie?"
"Yes, Cas?"
He didn't know why he was telling her, but he found himself saying, "I've got an appointment to talk to someone after my shift."
She took a second to process his words, then smiled. "I'm glad. I hope you find it helps you."
He watched her leave, wondering why he'd told her that. When Samandriel cleared his throat a few minutes later, Cas hurriedly set off to return the books to the shelves for the next person who wanted to read them.
. * * * .
"Let me make one thing clear," Pamela told him later. "It's normal to find ourselves getting distracted when we're grieving. It doesn't mean you're going crazy - it can simply be a struggle to concentrate when your brain is overwhelmed with something as painful as the loss of a loved one. It only becomes a problem when it starts interfering in your life in an unmanageable way."
"So what can I do to manage it? Is there anything I can do, except give it time?"
"Time is exactly what you take. Your brain needs time to process the emotions and anxieties you're feeling, and to adjust to your new reality without Bobby. Many people will tell you to 'keep busy' and soldier on - but while they mean well, keeping busy only serves as a distraction. Instead of facing your pain, you bury it. And that means it's just going to keep festering until you do.
"Now that's not to mean there isn't anything you can do to help yourself in that time. Have you ever tried meditating?"
Cas shook his head. "No. Actually, yes. Once, with Dean." He blushed as he remembered they'd ended up making out until Dean had needed to back off.
Pamela was looking at him with curious amusement, and if he believed in the supernatural he'd wonder if a part of what made her so good at her job was a psychic ability.
"Try again," she suggested. "It can help you get more control over your thoughts. Visualisation can also help - when you realise your thoughts are threatening to consume you, imagine putting them in a little box for later."
"Isn't that the opposite of facing my pain?"
"Only if you don't come back to it later. In this instance it's not avoidance, it's compartmentalising; allowing you to get on with the day-to-day activities in your life."
"So I don't try to put Harry Potter in the non-fiction section."
"Exactly," Pamela chuckled. "Keeping a journal can also be helpful. The physical closing of the book acts in a similar way to the visualisation process I described - putting your thoughts aside for later. Just make sure you do come back to them. Talking helps, so you can raise these thoughts with me, or if you can talk to Dean about them that would be beneficial for both of you." Noticing the flicker of unhappiness that crossed Castiel's face, she asked, "How is Dean coping?"
Castiel's hands fidgeted in his lap and he avoided her gaze. "Not good," he admitted, after a pause.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yes." He sighed. "No."
"Which is it?"
"I do, but I feel that, for the moment, at least, it would be better coming from him."
"Okay. But do you think he will tell me?"
"I hope so. When he's ready. He seems to be more comfortable opening up to you, now."
"He's said that?"
"Not in so many words. But I think the fact he keeps coming back to you speaks volumes."
"I agree," Pamela smiled. "But don't let him shut you out. He may want space - which is fine, in the short-term - but you still need to let him know that you're there for him. Giving someone too much space can have the opposite result, as they find it harder to come back to you when they're ready."
"I'll bear that in mind." Cas assured her.
. * * * .
When Cas got home, Dean wasn't in the living room. Or the kitchen. Or the bathroom. With a sigh, he marched into their bedroom and yanked the curtains apart, causing the rings to rattle against the rail.
In their bed, Dean flinched. He draped a protective arm over his eyes and grumbled something incoherently.
"I'm going to make lunch."
Dean burrowed deeper under the covers.
Cas pulled them off the bed in one swift movement.
Dean curled up into a ball and shivered, hand fumbling around for the comforter.
"No. Get up. Shower. Brush your teeth. Then come sit with me while we eat. You don't have to talk - we can just put the TV on. But you are not staying in bed all day."
"Not all day," Dean mumbled. "Gonna go to the Roadhouse later."
Of course you are. "Just know that I am not bringing food to you. If you want it, you can get up and get it. But please, shower."
Dean merely grunted in response and, with that, Cas walked out again.
. * * * .
He listened out for Dean as he took soup out of the freezer and began defrosting it on the stove, eventually hearing Dean padding to the bathroom. He exhaled, releasing some of the tension he hadn't realised he'd been carrying. He hadn't been sure if tough love was the way to go, but he wasn't going to encourage Dean's bad habits. He would support him, yes. Hold his head over the toilet. But he wouldn't let his world shrink down to alcohol, sex, and sleep, as it had in the past.
Chuck mewled hungrily, so Cas gave him a biscuit.
When the soup started to bubble, he turned it down.
When Dean finally stepped into the kitchen, Cas looked him up and down. He looked refreshed, though he still hadn't shaved. "Look out the bowls?" he asked with a smile.
They ate in the living room, watching a rerun of Dr Sexy.
"So, my first day in my new job went okay," Cas announced when it was over.
"That's good."
"I found myself getting distracted, though. But Pamela says that's normal."
"You saw her today? I didn't think you had an appointment."
"I moved it up, after..."
"Oh."
"I'm sure she'd do the same for you, if you asked her. If you wanted to, I mean." When Dean said nothing, he said, "Or not. It's up to you."
He gathered their empty bowls and headed through to the kitchen to wash up. When he came back, Dean was lost in the next episode. He sat back down beside him and snuggled close, resting his head on Dean's shoulder as he closed his eyes.
. * * * .
When Cas opened his eyes sometime later, he was lying down and Dean was gone. After a quick check of the apartment he fired off a message to Jo, who soon confirmed that Dean was at the Roadhouse. With a sigh, Cas made a start on dinner, knowing that he would be eating alone. Or at least, without any human company, he amended in his head when Chuck wound his way around his ankles.
. * * * .
Eventually Jo texted him again, letting him know that Dean had drunk too much and asking him to pick him up because he was starting to get confrontational and she was afraid he'd get into another fight. He responded quickly to let her know he was on his way, before putting on his coat and shoes.
When he walked into the Roadhouse, Dean was arguing aggressively with another man at the pool table.
"Please excuse my friend," he interjected swiftly. "He's had a little too much to drink. Come on, Dean. It's time to go home."
"No. He owes me fifty bucks!"
"You're a no-good hustler and I won't pay a cheat like you!"
Dean lunged for the man, but Cas had too firm a grip on his shirt and he ended up stumbling into his arms.
"It's time to go home," he repeated firmly.
"But—"
"Home!"
Dean grumbled under his breath, but nevertheless allowed Cas to drag him out. "We needed that money," he complained drunkenly once they were outside.
"It's not worth getting into a fight over," Cas insisted. "Now come on."
"Car's this way," Dean said, trying to lead him in the opposite direction.
"You're in no fit state to drive, and the walk will do you good." He dragged Dean in the direction of home until he willingly walked with him.
. * * * .
"As you leave here today, think upon what you've heard today and remember: 'No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.' Take care, and I'll see you next week."
As the rest of the congregation gathered their belongings and shuffled to the exit, Cas stared at the effigy of Jesus hanging on the cross behind the altar. As the church emptied and quietened, he became aware of someone sitting down beside him.
"Is everything alright, Castiel?"
He turned to look at Father Reynolds. "If I weren't a religious man, I'd believe you were psychic," he joked.
"Today's sermon held a particular relevance for you, then?" When Castiel didn't answer, he pressed, "What is it that's tempting you?"
"Not me."
"Ahh. Dean."
Cas closed his eyes and sighed.
"Is it his drinking?"
"Someone very dear to him... died... this week. It might be a short-term coping mechanism, until he's ready to face his grief..."
"Or it could be a return to his old ways."
"Yes."
"Have you spoken to him about your concerns?"
Cas shook his head. "He was still sleeping it off when I left this morning."
Father Reynolds sighed softly, hands clasped together on his lap. "I can listen to you, and advise you, but ultimately only you can choose how, or if, you help him."
"Of course I'll help him!" Cas protested. "I love him. But after everything we've both been through... I don't expect life to be easy, but I'd have thought we'd have earned a respite from the obstacles God puts in front of us."
"God doesn't give us challenges we cannot overcome; though some would probably overwhelm us if we had to face them on our own."
"I know."
"I will do my best to support you, as you support Dean. But you are not the only one he has in his corner - he has friends and family who love him, and wish to see him succeed."
Except Bobby was dead, Ellen was grieving, Jo was supporting her mother, Andy and Benny were fearing for their jobs, and Sam was hundreds if not thousands of miles away.
"God led you to us so you wouldn't be alone."