With the weekend gone, Dean thought that it would be a bit easier, him going back to work and having something else to focus on besides Cas.

He was wrong.

Unbidden, his thoughts kept circling back to the man at his home, drawing his attention away from the case files that he was supposed to be sifting through. Though every and all cases were important, some weren't a pressing issue, especially when he and Ellen started digging through old, forgotten, unsolved cases like the one before him. The disappearance of one Madison Lycan. After a few strange occurrences, she vanished without a trace, though it was suspected she was killed as there was a lot of blood discovered at her home.

It was an interesting case, a mystery, a puzzle like the ones Dean liked to solve, but it wasn't enough to grasp his attention for longer than half an hour before his mind would start to wander back to Cas.

What was he doing all alone in Dean's house? Was he bored? Was he lonely? Was he reading his books or watching TV? Was he curiously looking over Dean's stuff, exploring? He liked the backyard, and it was a sunny day, perhaps he was spending it outside? Dean could almost imagine him, sitting on a blanket on the grass, sipping coffee or tea and reading one of his books.

Perhaps Dean could make an outside chair for him as his next project? Maybe he could bring him some new books, considering that the ones Cas had were the same as the ones Dean found in his old apartment… It might be nice to find him something new to read. Would Cas like that?

Only once or twice did Dean think he might come home to an empty house, but he pushed those worries aside as he knew they might make him panic and do something stupid. Those thoughts occurred less and less as Dean found Cas to be at home every time he came back from work.

It was Wednesday evening that he finally started noticing it. It wasn't strange to find that Cas washed a plate and a cup or two, or cleaned up the breadcrumbs after he ate or even started a load of laundry with a few of his own clothing items. But today, it seemed like the place was cleaner. Vacuumed. Yeah, it was vacuumed. Dean specifically remembered seeing a few blueish flakes on the carpet in the hallway and a layer of dust on the stairs and now those were gone and the place was clean.

Cas must have vacuumed, who else could have? And it made Dean smile for a moment, thinking that Cas cared enough to do it. But it occurred to him that maybe Cas thought he had to, maybe he felt he needed to do it, to earn his keep? Or… Maybe he was just bored and looking to keep his hands busy. Just needed something to do.

Didn't really matter what the answer to these questions really was, when Dean was too much of a coward to ask them. But he didn't want to scare Cas away, he didn't want to make him feel unwelcome and he had a feeling that if he opened his mouth to say anything, he would just ruin this… fragile thing between them. And he needed this. He needed to know that he was helping him in any way that he could, not to ease his own guilty conscience, but because Cas deserved this. This and so much more.

But then he came home Thursday afternoon and went straight to the laundry room because someone spilled coffee all over his shirt and he found that all of the dirty laundry was washed, and dried and folded. All of it, including the linen and a blanket, and even… Even his own boxers.

"Oh. Hello. I didn't hear you come in." Cas said from behind him, just lingering there at the door. "I was just upstairs, putting away my clothes." He stated and just stood there, like he was waiting for something. Should Dean just nod? Or thank him for washing it all? Tell him he didn't need to do it?

"Um…"

"So what are we gonna have for dinner tonight?" Cas quickly interrupted before Dean could even say anything, then literally pushed past him to get to the folded linen.

"Um… Pizza? I don't…" Yes, he was tired and yes, he had a long day and his head hurt, but he still couldn't say it, he couldn't tell Cas that he didn't feel like cooking. "... Maybe… Maybe I could make some pasta or…"

"Oh, no, pizza's great. I like pizza. I could go with pepperoni or meat lovers as long as you order extra cheese." Cas tossed back as he took the linen out of the room. A fleeting thought crossed Dean's mind that if he hadn't shown up when he did, Cas would probably put away Dean's clothes and underwear too. He had no idea how he felt about that.

And then Friday came, and Dean felt even worse, tired from a whole week of sifting through paperwork, evidence logs and witness statements, and all he felt like was just crashing on the bed and sleeping till tomorrow. But he knew he had to make them something to eat, a few sandwiches at least, maybe with an apology that he just couldn't do better right now. But when he entered the house, he was met with a delicious scent of tomatoes and… what was that?... A bit of oregano, garlic, maybe basil too?

It is warm and mouth watering and Dean was confused, but he followed his nose all the way to the kitchen only to find Cas right there by the stove stirring one pot while the other had bubbling, boiling water in it. As soon as Dean walked in, Cas turned and gave him a small, shy and apologetic smile, as if he thought that Dean would be mad at him or something. There was that spark of uncertainty in his eyes that Dean caught every once in a while, when Cas' mask of complete confidence would slip.

"Hello."

"Um… Hi."

"You mentioned pasta yesterday, and I noticed this tomato sauce is almost expired, so I decided to make dinner." He said, motioning for a tin can Dean had in one of the cupboards. He stated it so, there was no 'I hope you don't mind' or any of that sheepish look he had a second ago. And Dean just didn't know how to respond to that.

Saying that it was okay that Cas cooked, that Dean liked pasta felt like he would be patronising him, or that at least Cas would suspect it was so.

A simple 'Thanks' would be… well… Too simple.

So Dean ended up saying…

"I'll set the table."

Weekend was once again odd, but in a good way. Dean was home, and he was around Cas most of the time and he… He knew he shouldn't feel like that, but he couldn't help it, he just enjoyed being around the guy, even if they did nothing but sit in silence, both engrossed in their own stuff or just watching TV. Actually the whole weekend was kind of nice, so much so that Dean didn't really want to go back to work on Monday.

First day was really rough. The digging through Madison's case paid out, and they had a new suspect - her next door neighbor Gled Hawkins. Only problem was, when they came aknocking, he wasn't there anymore. So the rest of the day involved a lot of footwork while they tried to find out where exactly did he go.

Dean was once again met with a delicious scent when he entered the house. Cas made a sort of beef stew, and it tasted just as amazing as it smelled, but Dean couldn't stop worrying about Cas.

He was quiet. Not like he normally was, he was withdrawn and wouldn't even make eye contact. Even when Dean managed to get over himself and tell him the meal was delicious and thanked him for it, Cas dismissed it with "It wasn't a big deal." He retreated to his room early and hadn't come out not even once.

Dean was really worried when he didn't find Cas in the kitchen in the morning. The man adored the room, probably because it had so much open space and light, especially in the early morning. He started a pot and while the coffee was brewing, he gathered his courage to go knock on Cas' door. And just as the coffee was done, Cas wandered downstairs, looking tired and drained, like he hadn't slept all night. There were bags under his eyes and his movements were slow, and he just took his coffee, gulped it down, then went back upstairs. Dean really hoped he wasn't coming down with something.

Throughout the day, Dean was distracted with thoughts about Cas and about how he could help him, so much so that even Ellen commented on it. She asked if his friend was giving him trouble, because of course, Jo told her, but Dean put on a tight smile and just waved it all off. Still, the whole day was spent, and Dean had no idea what to do by the time evening rolled around.

It was around one in the morning, and Dean was adrift between sleep and wake, mind too occupied to go under, too tired to stay afloat. Suddenly, he was startled by something and he flinched to full awareness, but when he looked around, there was nothing there. He must have imagined it.

thump*thump*

He didn't imagine that knocking, no. "Come in." And Cas did, looking so small and pale, and kind of shaky too.

"Cas, what happened?" Dean sat up in his bed, his hands itching to reach out towards Cas. The man stepped into the room and came a few feet closer, then stopped just out of reach.

"I… I had a nightmare…" He whispered, his voice so small and broken, cutting straight through Dean's heart. And of course, Dean was such an idiot. The biggest fucking idiot to ever walk the Earth.

How could he just fall for that smile and that mask of confidence and assume Cas was fine? After everything that happened, after what Bela did, how could he be? Judging by the records Dean dug up, Cas had been mistaken for his brother constantly, who knew what he'd been through because of it. And Dean just… He forgot. He should have asked. He should have pushed. He should have talked to Cas.

"Come 'ere." He said and motioned for the bed. Without looking up, Cas just took the last few steps to the bed and sat on the edge as if he was just waiting for Dean to say it was okay. He seemed just so damn small and vulnerable, hugging himself, and Dean just needed to help, any way, any how.

"You wanna talk about it?" He offered, but Cas shook his head. He didn't seem like a person who would open up so easily, so Dean wasn't discouraged. Instead, he took a deep breath then slowly reached out and set his hand on Cas' shoulder. Even though the thin shirt he wore, Dean could feel how cold he was, but what really surprised him was Cas leaning into the touch.

So Dean let his hand slide down his arm and then up again, as if he was trying to warm him up. He hoped it was comforting enough to ease Cas and make him feel at least a little bit better.

"What do you need?" He asked after a moment. "You wanna go downstairs, I can make you some tea, or…" Cas shook his head, leaning closer to Dean. "...Okay, how about the living room, maybe watch some TV, get your mind off…" But again, Cas shook his head.

For a few minutes they just sat there, in a sort of comfortable silence, and maybe that was what Cas needed, just to be in the same room with someone. So Dean sat with him, still gently rubbing his arm until Cas' eyelids began to droop. He started to lean in, more and more, and Dean wanted to tell him that he should probably get back to bed, but he didn't want Cas to feel like he was trying to get rid of him or something. Before Dean could do much, Cas was in his arms, his left shoulder pressing against Dean's chest.

Slowly and gracefully, Cas turned his entire upper body so that they were almost in a proper hug, and Dean was a hundred percent sure Cas could feel just how wildly his heart was suddenly beating. He set his head on Dean's shoulder and rubbed his cheek there like he was a cat or something, then settled.

"Can I stay?" He whispered and Dean's eyes went wide as he barely stopped himself from gasping and making a fool out of himself.

"Of course. Whatever you need." He said and from one second to the next, Cas was crawling in bed with him, curling into his side as Dean lay on his back. His left arm was extended and Cas nuzzled against his shoulder, claiming it as his own pillow. His legs were bent, knees pressing to Dean's hip, arms and hands in front of him, between the two of them. Within minutes, he was sound asleep, looking so peaceful, nobody could tell he had a nightmare or was upset a while ago.

For hours, the only sound filling the room was their breathing and Dean's erratic heartbeat.

When Dean woke up in the morning (and when did he fall asleep?) Cas was gone. The bed was empty, but not entirely cold, just enough to tell Dean the whole thing wasn't a dream. And when he went downstairs, there was Cas, and a freshly brewed pot of coffee and a small smile and a soft "Good morning."

Dean wanted to ask him how he felt, he wanted to make sure he was alright. He wanted to acknowledge what happened last night and he wanted to see if… Well, Dean wanted a lot of things, and probably should have vocalized some, but all he ended up saying was… "Morning."

Needless to say, he spent the entire Wednesday benched because he couldn't focus enough to see that the pot he was currently trying to pour coffee out of was empty, much less help Ellen with tracking down that Glen guy. At least his evening was better, he called Cas and told him he was stopping by for some Chinese and they had a nice meal and watched some TV and parted ways before their bedrooms.

Only Dean felt his bed dip in the middle of the night and felt a warm body slot next to him and he was so fucking confused, and had so many questions and didn't understand one fucking thing, but… Just like when Cas first knocked on his front door and asked for a place to stay, Dean was just glad to have somebody there, to have him there, that he didn't dare question any of it.

The guy had nightmares, and needed some comfort. Dean did tell him he'd give him whatever he needed...