Okay. Michael letting Dean out? Kinda changes things. For everyone.

A knock from the Room's interior alerted Castiel that the brothers were finished with their breakfast. The first meal they'd been afforded the chance to eat together in far too long.
Although, it was unlikely Sam had actually eaten anything during his visit, considering there had only been one bowl and-

A second knock reminded Cas of his assignment as guard, so with a jolt he moved forward, undid every lock, lifted the bar, and opened the door the exact distance necessary to allow his tallest of friends through.

"Is Dean well?" Cas asked as soon as Sam had slipped himself out the door. Which the angel dutifully shut the moment the hunter was clear.

"Since five minutes ago?" Sam asked, sounding rather perplexed.

"Yes, your exit was hushed and even now we're whispering," Cas explained as he noiselessly lowered the bar the last few centimeters back into place.

"Ah, right," Sam said, politely giving Cas the time necessary to relock every lock before continuing. "Soon as he got a little food in him, it was lights out. Probably for the rest of the day, if the snoring is any indication," the hunter informed as the angel moved to lead them away from their homemade ma'lak box.

"Good. It is only right that Michael give Dean the time for rest. God knows they both need it," Cas said with a sigh of relief as he reached the hall, stopping just outside the cavernous space then turning to Sam when he was sure their voices wouldn't carry.
"What shall we do now? Now that Dean has been granted this, likely impermanent, freedom?" He asked, aware he was asking it of someone who was just as unlikely as himself to possess the answer to their newest of conundrums.

"Well, uh, first off, I'm pretty sure I need to make a phone call."

"A phone call? Sam, I don't-"

"He asked about Mom."

"Ah," Cas felt his face pinch in response, for Mary had not availed herself of a visit in over a month. Well over, in fact. Before any of this Room related hubbub had started. And that excursion had been business related, so Castiel wasn't sure whether it should count to begin with.
"Do you think she'll come?" The response the angel finally settled upon. Not wanting to speak ill of a good and righteous woman.

"Only one way to find out," Sam said as he pulled out his cellphone and selected the contact titled simply, 'Mom'.

To Castiel's surprise, the call was picked up after one ring and the mother on the other end of the line was smiling as she set down her glass to speak with her youngest son. Knowing purely by instinct that it was indeed him who'd called.

Hm. Perhaps he'd been a little harsh in his assessment of Mary Winchester. After all, any parent is bound to worry about their children, the angel thought as he turned a blind ear to the phone conversation taking place over the vastness of hundreds of miles of American countryside.

Watching Sam speak to his mother on the phone, Castiel was reminded of how often he'd perceived Dean doing the exact same thing. And of how very happy such small, fond conversations had made his best and truest friend.

At the memory, Cas felt his mouth grow wider in a wistful smile as he found himself wishing for the days where Dean- a free Dean would correct his inappropriate behaviors with a kindly, well placed word and a good humored expression.
Inappropriate behaviors such as listening in on other's phone conversations. Which he was pointedly not doing right that second. And which was proving a force of will power, considering the subject of said conversation was the human with whom he shared a profound bond. And who was living out the foreseeable future as well as the recent past locked away from all that he knew and loved. In a comfortless metal prison made not for him, but the necessary containment of the ruthless archangel possessing him.

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment, both cursing and blessing the Room and all it had already done for and to them.
Cursing especially the cruel way in which it had negated his ability to divine the condition of his friend within. Obscuring its contents to the point where Cas had more than once wondered if Michael were even still inside. Until the next time the walls had trembled under those inhuman, inexhaustible attempts at escape, that is.

Perhaps the worst of it though, thought Cas around a deep breath, was how very alone that horrible blindness had left him. From the moment he'd locked that ma'lak door those thirty plus days ago, to the present. Unable through the impenetrable cube of wardings to so much as perceive the other end of the profound bond that he and Dean shared. A bond which usually allowed him some marginal insight into how the seasoned hunter was doing, mentally or physically, and which Castiel had come to rely upon in times of hardship. Like a lifeline promising him that he wasn't the only one missing someone. A promise that things would be alright. In the end.

But he'd had to go the last month alone, Cas acknowledged, releasing that meditative breath as he opened his eyes. And he'd had to stop prodding at that sore spot inside him that missed his friend's presence with every day he couldn't feel Dean out and about in the world. A world which he'd had to readjust to life alone in.

...Except that he wasn't really alone. Not anymore. Not since Sam had worked through his own personal and immense sorrow and retaken his place as head of the last standing chapter of the American Men Of Letters, and as team leader of their Apocalypse world forces.

Yes, Sam had obviously felt the rift as well. Being a brother and similarly torn from the most important person in his life, surely his pain had been... crippling.
As it had been for Castiel.

A Castiel who couldn't help but wonder whether Mary Winchester, on the receiving end of Sam's desperate call for support, had felt a similar severing of bonds between her oldest and herself when that door had shut. For what was supposed to have been the first and last time.

"Love you," the parting words that brought Cas's attention back to the Winchester standing not five feet from him.
"She's on her way," informed Sam as he stored his phone. Face marked with equal parts relief and apprehension.

"Wonderful. I'll air out her room and turn down the bed," Cas volunteered.

"Uh, that's thoughtful, Cas, but I don't-"

"I insist," Cas said, voice approaching firm. Knowing that it was the least he could do in repentance for his earlier, derisive thoughts.

"Alright then," Sam said on a perplexed huff. "I'll go look at the morning reports and get on the horn with point leaders; help out with hunting coordination," he announced. Then, with a small shake of his head, "Thanks, Cas."

"It's my pleasure," the angel insisted, feeling the sincerity down to his core.

And so, with a quick exchange of half formed smiles, the two hunters turned in disparate directions to see to their self-appointed tasks. Cas very much hoping that Dean was still... himself when his long-awaited visitor came calling.

No worries, y'all. Looks like next chapter is turning out a whole heck of a lot longer than this one! And guess what? Mary's coming to town! :D