Life in a metal box doesn't have many natural comforts to offer. But with good behavior, maybe the wardens will throw in a bone or two.

Sam sighed as Cas shut the Ma'lak door behind him, not sure exactly how he felt about his newest sibling related revelation. And the fact that Dean had basically been playing teaching matches against him for the past twenty nine years. Even though he was the one who'd participated in every chess club he could find all the way through his first semester of law school.

"Who won?" Came that familiar voice from where the angel was busy locking up.

"Uh, long story," Sam said with an apologetic glance backwards.

"How're the bean bags working out?" Asked the mother who thankfully knew when a change of subject would be appreciated. Sitting with a drink between both hands at a card table they'd set up off to one side of the chamber a while back, hoping it would make waiting easier. Or at least more comfortable.

"For Dean? Great. For Michael?" Sam started, shaking his head in a strange fusion of amusement and disappointment. "Guy's still refusing to sit on anything that isn't a 'proper chair'."

"Perhaps, this is one of those instances in which we must be firm with him?" Cas offered from where he was busy setting the bar in place.

"Uh, I'm actually thinking I can get him to give his word not to bludgeon any of us," Sam said as he put the chess board and it's self stored pieces away on the 'entertainment' cart they'd also not so long ago made a place for. Careful not to spill the melted wax out the top of the candle they really needed to rethink as he put that down too. "Considering that he hasn't done anything overtly evil in a while, kinda looks like he's ready to play nice."

"Yeah, well he hasn't had much opportunity for 'evil'. Dean and all of us've made sure of that," Mary said around the leisurely sips she was taking from her steaming cup of... tea, probably. "But a couple weeks of good behavior a saint does not make, and I just don't think I'm comfortable trusting him with something like that yet," she finished, setting down her drink alongside the serious remark.

"And I totally get that," Sam assured, "but at the same time, I feel like Michael's... changing, somehow. Like he appreciates how he's being treated now- a-and I don't think he's gonna jeopardize that right when he's starting to get what he wants," he finished with a brow crumpled in concern.

"I feel that a middle approach may be most prudent," Cas offered, walking to bring himself into easy view of both other hunters. "We should not be fearful of rewarding good behavior, but, as Mary rightly pointed out, we also should not be foolhardy with the trust we extend."

When his audience nodded, in understanding if not agreement, the angel went on.

"Perhaps, because Michael seems to respond most favorably to Sam, he should be the one to introduce a 'proper chair'. As well as the stipulations for keeping his new privilege," the angel concluded with a gesture at the Sam he'd nominated.

"I could bring a couple next time I go in there; take them with me when I leave. See how he handles that and go from there?" Sam suggested. Wondering as he did whether that evening might be a good time for it.

"Well, so long as we're not leaving bar room brawl weapons in there with him... sounds like a good idea. Let's just make sure they don't weigh much," Mary tacked on with a little grimace.

"Or have any sharp edges," Cas added, voice almost comically serious.

"Uh, it's just a chair," Sam reminded, rather amused by all the concern. "Besides, if he really wanted to hurt any of us, he could always use his fists. Or try to smother us with a bean bag."

"The only reason he hasn't is because he's not stupid enough to try something that can't work," Mary insisted, expression teetering the line between wry and hard. "He's not gonna risk losing his one shot at an element of surprise on slim to no odds. If he could get his hands on a 'proper chair' though..." she trailed off with a shrug, knowing her point had been made.

"Okay, so we're test running a couple chairs," Sam said in a 'team huddle' tone. "Since you two obviously have some special specifications in mind, you get to pick them out, then we'll make dinner and I'll make Michael promise to only use his new accessory for good."

"For sitting on," Cas corrected, head bobbing in assent.

"So long as you're good with it," Mary said with a nod at Sam.

"Alright," the tallest of them said with a 'now that that's settled' rub of his hands, "let's give the archangel what he wants."

XxxxxxxXxxxxxxXxxxxxxXxxxxxxXxxxxx

The dinner went better than expected, being prefaced by Michael not throwing a fit over the mere suggestion of even just his vessel having to sit in something as demeaning as a 'bag of beans'. Followed by Dean also not throwing a fit over there being 'proper chairs' in his homicidally bent archangel shared quarters.

Both phenomena being quite the relief to a Sam who was trying his best to make things more livable and comfortable for the archangel inhabited brother he was successfully keeping alive.
A brother with whom he was playing checkers against until the memory of having his 'ass kicked' twice in a row by someone he'd thought he was better than wasn't quite so fresh. Even if that was a little petty of him.

Still, Dean had smiled when he'd realized which board game Sam'd brought in for a little after dinner entertainment. No doubt guessing exactly what was on his brother's mind.
Sam appreciated the attempt at maturity when the guy didn't outright laugh about it. Only needing to shoot him a 'you got something to say?' look when the snickering got too loud to ignore.

So, thankful for small miracles, Sam made the first move and enjoyed eking out a victory about the time that same pathetic candle they'd been using earlier finally gave up the ghost for good.
Then, in the barely darker darkness of his Room, Dean helped collect every single piece back into their little plastic containers and promised he was good for the night. A residual smirk still stuck to his face over the whole affair.

Sam, doing his best to forgive the guy his fun, gathered up the two stacking chairs and the checkers setup and said goodnight. Glad that the day's activities were agreeing with someone.

And grateful for the opportunity to get to know his brother that little bit better. Even if knowing Dean was that good at both deception and Sam's favorite board game was more than a little bit... disturbing.

Well, guess the family business is just plain gonna have to include interior design.
But seriously, sorry about the unexpected hiatus, y'all! A friend challenged me to an unrelated One-Punch Man writing prompt and I just couldn't say no. Heh heh.
No worries though, as next chapter is coming along nicely and will feature the poor, tragically separated duo of Dean and Cas! :D