Cas learns something that Dean had hoped would stay private.
Sam learns just how dire their little Michael situation really is and starts to think that, maybe, Dean's sarcophagus plan hadn't been quite so radical an overreaction as Sam'd thought.
"Do you think I was too hard on him?" Sam asked, readjusting the large box he was carrying.
"I think that Dean is having a hard time in this and that he is handling everything as well as can be expected," Cas said as they rounded the last corner and re-entered the build chamber.
"So, you do think I was too hard on him?"
"Sam, in this, you too are handling things as well as can be expected," Cas assured as the two of them set down their boxes by the growing heap of new equipment.
"That's not an actual answer," Sam pointed out as he stood to stretch out his back. Cas not sure how worried he should be about the several resulting pops that the action produced.
"...In truth, I have been giving him the requisite 'cool down' time so that I might check on him myself," Cas admitted, avoiding Sam's eyes for just a moment. Hoping the hunter didn't take it harshly.
"Well, this is the last of it, so I'll start putting things where they need to be and you can do what you gotta do," Sam suggested, with a glance around at their newly moved in equipment, voice more supportive than Cas had been expecting.
"Are you sure, Sam? There is still quite a bit to move," Cas said with a quick glance around the cavernous space.
"Go. Be a good friend. I'll be fine," Sam, the Saint, insisted. Practically shooing Cas away when the angel hesitated out of concern for the hunter's exceedingly long, unusually vocal back.
In the end, knowing Sam wasn't the kind to hurt himself executing a task as simple as the one Cas was leaving him to, the angel began his walk at a brisk pace. Which he maintained until he had reached the correct hall and was within sight of the door to Dean's room. Where the angel knew he would find the downtrodden hunter.
And where he was surprised to find the door an uncharacteristic few inches ajar.
"May I come in?" Cas asked as he stopped at the appropriate spot in the hallway.
"It's a free country," came the response from the gloom that was Dean's under-lit bedroom.
"That's not actual permission," the angel pointed out, staying right where he was outside the strangely, slightly open door.
"...Yeah, come on in."
"Dean," started Cas as he stepped passed the threshold, "you are aware that Sam and I care for you, are you not?" He resisted the urge to flip on the lights as he spied the lone shadow sitting on the edge of the bed. The lone shadow that wasn't answering him. "Dean," he said as he stopped in front of the silent hunter, "you know we love you, don't you?"
"Stop it," the only thing the sullen Winchester said. Voice a hushed whisper.
"I will not 'stop it', Dean, it's the truth and you need to accept it. Before it's too- No, it'll never be too late, but you can't rebuff your brother's and my efforts to help- our love for you forever. Eventually you'll be forced to face reality-"
"Just stop for one lousy minute," Dean interrupted, not even looking at the angel.
"Dean!" Cas near shouted as he reached out and took one hunched, human shoulder in his hand and-
And the momentary lost look it caused caught the angel completely by surprise.
"Cas?" Asked a Dean who then glanced around as if getting his bearings.
"You weren't talking to me, were you?" The angel asked, giving his friend a more thorough looking over. Displeased when he noticed for the first time the, admittedly rather subtle, darkened circles under his eyes.
"What? Talking?" Dean asked as he shook his head and blinked. Hard.
"Yes, remember? I asked if I could come in, you said that it's a 'free country', I asked permission a second time, you granted it, I walked in, you-"
"Yeah, I remember. That much, anyway," the hunter assured, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grimace.
"You're having memory problems?" Cas asked, feeling his adrenaline take an automatic spike at the idea.
"No," Dean said, voice firm. "No, more like archangel problems. Michael's... tireless, let's say."
"He's trying to escape? Even now?" Cas asked, voice sounding only half as worried as he felt. Knowing Dean did not appreciate being 'mollycoddled'.
"He hasn't stopped trying since we locked him in there. The guy's doing his damnedest to bust down that door and the only thing stopping him is me. And I'm only one person, Cas," Dean said in a very... powerless sort of way. One which prompted Cas to turn and sit on the edge of the bed, so that he could more easily offer comfort to his friend.
"I did not know the extent of- Michael truly allows you no peace?" The angel couldn't stop himself from asking, troubled by the concept as he was.
Dean shook his head and scrubbed a hand across his face before answering.
"Some nights it gets bad enough I can't sleep," the hunter admitted, as if speaking some shameful secret.
"I suppose to Michael, there is no 'day' and 'night'; only 'rage' and 'escape'."
"You're telling me," Dean agreed, tone wry yet morose.
"Why did you not tell Sam or myself sooner?" Cas asked, trying not to feel hurt by the secret so long kept.
"Wouldn't'a made a difference," Dean asserted with a flippant lilt.
"Regardless," Cas started as he leaned toward the hunter and put an arm around the stooped back, "now that your brother and I have a plan and the means with which to complete it, it will make a difference. I'll see to that." The assurance spoken as the angel gave his friend's upper body a one armed squeeze, akin to a hug. Then Cas stood and gave Dean one more looking over.
"You do look as though you could use some rest."
"Make you a deal: I take a nap; you stop your bellyaching," the hunter proposed, motioning towards the pillow at one end of the bed.
"Yes, were you to take a nap, my 'bellyaching' would indeed be put on hold," Cas assured with a pleased look.
"Fine then," Dean said as he stretched himself out, hands behind his head in a comfortable lounging position. "Happy?"
"Hm, one more thing," Cas said as he stepped over to the radio and turned the well preserved thing on. "A little music to lull you."
"Nothin' like Ozzy singin' you a bedtime story," Dean admitted with a contented sigh.
"Have a nice nap, Dean. Sam and I will not be far," Cas assured before he exited the room and closed the door behind him. Most of the way. Feeling compelled to leave it ajar as he had found it upon his arrival, the angel did just that and then stayed where he was until the sonorous wailings of Black Sabbath transitioned smoothly into the guttural, heart pounding drum work of Alex Van Halen.
Then, knowing Dean was in good hands, Cas turned from the door and began his way back to whence he'd come. Smiling when he heard the soft sounds indicative of snoozing follow him down the hall.
XxxXxxxxxxxxXxxxxxXxxxxxxxxxxXxXxx
"Sam, Dean is not suicidal."
"Um, okay- Where did that come from," Sam asked of the angel sweeping into the room. And straight for him.
"Remember his original plan to throw himself into the Pacific Ocean in-"
"Yeah, of course, but what-"
"Dean does not wish for death," the angel said, quite matter of factly, as he came to a stop an arm's length from where Sam stood, holding an overly full, cumbersome box.
"Did you think he did?" Sam asked, feeling his face pale at the thought.
"...No, not truly," Cas admitted after a short, uncertain pause. "But based on your earlier outrage, I assumed that you had."
"So I was too hard on him. Great," Sam said, feeling his shoulders droop as he heaved a defeated sigh.
"The blame lies with both of us, Sam," Cas said in a tone riding the line between accusation and absolution. "We should have spoken to Dean about this far sooner. Before he became so desperate as to resort to his original 'plan'."
"Yeah, I kinda got that when he showed me that... thing, back at Donna's," Sam said with a self-deprecating huff.
"But, Sam, I just spoke with him and it's worse than I'd thought," said the angel, voice tightening just noticeably.
"What's worse?" Sam asked, finally bending to set down the box he'd been moving. Before Cas had rolled in like a category one hurricane.
"He has been concealing from us, and rather well I might add, the true toll keeping Michael at bay has been taking on him. Physically as well as mentally." The grim set to the angel's jaw had Sam's even fuller attention and the hunter ended up setting down the box of brand new welding materials a little faster than he'd meant to.
"Is he okay? Do we need to-"
"I don't foresee the need for any rash intercession, thank God," Cas assured. Hands on his hips as he gave his lips a good purse. "I do think though, that this project," the angel said with a nod towards the piles upon piles of construction metal, "deserves our undivided attention. Both of ours."
"Right, uh, well, at least we know where to go from here," Sam said, one hand combing through his hair, trying to smooth the ruffled mind hidden underneath. "Uh, I'll start setting up the welding stations while you mark out the build perimeter?" He suggested, holding up a tape measure and rattle can of red paint. Both plucked from a box he'd already moved to the appropriate place in the room.
"With pleasure," Cas said as he accepted both items. But instead of moving off immediately, the angel looked up into the hunter's face and gave Sam a soft though serious look before adding, "He's having difficulty concentrating. I fear he has for a while, and that we have simply not noticed. Or perhaps, chosen not to notice. For his sake, we must finish this Room... soon." Then the angel gave a small, encouraging smile and walked off to start on the first of many, equally important, Room building prep tasks.
Leaving Sam standing there, feeling like he'd once again let his big brother down in a way he could only hope he'd get a chance to put right. Before it was too late.