Chapter 59.
Sam, Cas and Jack were in the library, sitting in silence. Neither of the celestials excelled at small talk and Sam had given up trying to find any safe topic. He felt that the most important thing was getting through the night without losing Cas, literally or metaphorically. Sam knew Jules and she would not maintain radio silence when she knew what had happened. Whether or not they were together, Cas mattered to her and now he was weak.
He was trying not to show it, but he was unused to aches and pains that were natural to his mortal vessel. Angelic grace was almost perfect protection against life's vicissitudes and he clearly still had a headache and seemed uncomfortable in his chair.
"How late do you think Dean will get back?" said Jack.
"Not too late." said Sam, "He won't wanna stick around there with Jules and Sarah this time, especially when Jules knows Cas did what he did on our watch."
"I didn't." said Cas, "I left the bunker and ceased to be your problem."
"You've been our problem since you dragged Dean out of Hell." said Sam. "I don't mean that you're a problem." he said quickly.
"No, but I am." said Cas.
Jack looked at Sam. Neither of them knew what to say. Then Jack said, "We could get supper ready. There's only us in the bunker tonight. We could have a family supper. Dean would like that."
"Great idea." said Sam, "Something simple we can keep warm until he gets here. We could make a one pot stew."
They both looked at Cas. He didn't seem to know what they wanted. "Thoughts?" said Sam.
"Nothing comes to mind." said Cas.
"Do you think it's a good idea?" said Jack.
"Well, of course it is." said Cas.
"Then why didn't you say that?" said Sam.
"It felt like your decision." said Cas.
Sam decided that there was no point in arguing with that. Cas, like Dean, tended to react to attempts to convince him of his worth by giving evidence for his worthlessness and it could never convince them, but it would make him more certain of it. Instead, he said, "You can chop the mushrooms and onions. Jack's on carrots and potatoes. I'll deal with the beef." As they got to the kitchen he put his hand on Cas's arm. "Cut carefully. Your grace isn't protecting you and I'm not explaining to Dean how you ended up missing a finger."
Cas seemed about to argue, then he smiled and said, "I'll be careful."
"You too, Jack." said Sam.
"I'm still immortal." said Jack.
"Take no risks anyway." said Cas.
Sam found a bottle of wine and set out the glasses on the counter. Then he started to prepare the meat. The beef was good quality and he knew Dean would appreciate it, but he would appreciate more coming home to a hot meal in a cosy kitchen, made for him by his family.
Jack had a good instinct for things like that and he wanted, more than anything, to restore the harmony of his home. He wanted Dean to be soothed and reassured. He wanted Cas to know that he still had a loving home.
The youngest of the family, who had most right and reason to ask for comfort, was reaching out with love to the person who would deny to his dying breath that he needed it.
It would work, too. Jack knew what he was doing. It was the one thing he could do that Dean would not resent or brush aside. Food was fuel. Eating it was not an admission of weakness and enjoying it would make the boy feel loved without any need for words.
They worked together well and with little need for discussion. They all welcomed the distraction of their simple tasks and they were accustomed to preparing food. The kitchen sometimes felt like the heart of the bunker and Sam admitted to himself that Cas was not the only one who found a sense of worth in performing small household tasks.
Cas seemed to enjoy helping with the meal. He still felt bad about worrying them and Sam got the feeling he was trying to make it right in any way he could. They both smiled when Jack added a pinch of salt to the pot with the words, "To keep the ghosts out."
Even when the food was in the oven, they all stayed in the kitchen. They sat around the table, glad to be together on a day that had started with everyone so separated.
"Do you think this is how it is in civilian families?" said Jack. He talked like a hunter sometimes and Sam reflected that anyone who fell into their orbit gradually turned into a true Winchester.
"No." said Cas, "They don't know what matters."
"Would you rather be a civilian, Jack?" said Sam.
"It's not an option for us, is it?" said Jack.
"If it's what you want ... " Cas began.
"It's not. Who'd give up the chance to save the world for the chance to eat snacks in front of the TV?"
"I would, in a heartbeat." said Sam.
Jack smiled at him. "Then why are you here?"
"I ask myself that every day."
"Because you're the one person here who could just step into ordinary life and make it work." said Jack.
"There is nothing ordinary about me." said Sam, "I wouldn't fit better in their world any more than Dean would."
"You could fake it. Dean couldn't. Dean would be smashing stuff."
"Dean lived a normal life for a year." said Sam.
"Yeah, but he never talks about it, so I don't think it was a happy time for him." said Jack.
"The truth is, none of us have ever had the choice or ever will." said Cas, "Which is why we shouldn't try to be what we're not. People get hurt, every time. Ben and Lisa ... and Jules ... "
Sam didn't like the way the conversation was going. Cas was becoming melancholy and now he himself was starting to think about Jess and Sarah and Eileen and he didn't want Dean to return to depressing talk or to the mention of the names he could hardly bear to hear.
"Happy subjects only, please." he said, "We all need a little positivity in our lives tonight."