Song Remains the Same

by R. W. Winters

For Alex Winchester, normal has never been in the equation. Mute since the nursery fire, she grew up on the road chasing ghosts with her brothers and father. When her voice is inexplicably restored and the angel Castiel appears claiming to be her guardian, both of their lives change forever in ways that Heaven and Earth never expected. Castiel/OFC. Sisfic - S4-9 - Alternate Ending.

97. Crazy Train

Song Remains the Same

Chapter 97 / Crazy Train

"I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it!"
- Sherrilyn Kenyon

---

Only a moment ago, he'd been in a coma and dead to the world. Then one lightning-strike and thunder-crack later, he was sitting up, smiling dreamily at Alex, and proclaiming as if in total awe: "Wow… you're pretty."

Alex and Meg both reacted at the exact same time in the exact same way to the unexpected comment. They drew back slightly as confusion made their faces twist, and then they chorused unintentionally: "What?"

Cas, who had only had eyes for Alex up until that moment, saw Meg and he appeared vaguely startled at her presence. "Oh gracious," he commented mildly, then gave Alex a pointed, conspiratorial look as he leaned closer and spoke to her furtively. "She, however, is not pretty. She has a face like a demon." He paused and his eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Meg. "Wait. She is a demon." He paused again then began to grin widely, something he hadn't really done before. The effect was odd and made Alex feel even more unsure. "Oh, and I'm an angel," he commented softly to himself, then looked behind himself left and right, as if he were looking at his wings. "Yes, of course, how could I forget?" he muttered, apparently pleasantly surprised. On the bedside table, the lamp knocked over and Cas immediately looked guilty like a child would—he froze and looked at Alex as if he were expecting to be chastised. "Oopsie."

…Oopsie? Alex gaped at Cas unabashedly. Had he just knocked something over with one of his wings? But more to the point… OOPSIE?! Something was clearly wrong with Cas. She didn't even think about it, she just did what was deeply ingrained into herself—she pressed the palm of her hand to his forehead, feeling for a fever, forgetting for a brief moment that he wasn't human. "Cas—you feel okay?" she asked, voice dredged in worry.

He grinned again, eyes flickering up to her hand against his forehead—apparently something was funny. "You tell me." Disgruntled, Alex frowned. Was that a joke? He abruptly giggled, a low, sandpapery sound that shocked Alex all over again. Cas didn't giggle…!

She sat back a little then looked back over her shoulder at Meg, who shrugged and pulled a face, just as stumped as Alex was. "Don't look at me. He's your unicorn not mine."

Alex looked back at Cas, who was watching her every move with soft eyes that suggested he was having a sappy, gooey moment in his heart. Last time he'd been conscious, he'd been guilty and defeated—and now he was apparently in la-la land. Was this more of the angel amnesia? Like when he thought he was some guy named Emmanuel? "Cas, do you remember what happened?" she asked cautiously, pretty sure her heart would break if he didn't know her again or if he forgot everything for a second time. But she had to ask—she had to know. "Do you… do you know who I am?" She was sick inside at the thought of him being a stranger to her once more.

However, his answer was immediate and serene. "Yes, of course I know who you are," he said. "You're—" he abruptly glimpsed what was folded up on the bedside table over Alex's shoulder and he stopped mid-sentence. "My trench coat!" he exclaimed, lighting up and abruptly disappearing out of thin air—he had ported himself all of two or three feet to stand beside the bed, and he was taking the coat up in his hands. Disoriented, Alex watched in confusion. "It's like seeing an old friend again," he said, engrossed in the garment he held in his hands. Alex had washed it as best as she could, but bloodstains still remained faintly. "So many memories…" he murmured softly, rubbing his fingers across the fabric. "Some good. Some very, very bad." He deflated mildly for a second, looking more like himself.

"Cas… what's wrong with you?" Alex asked in deep concern, getting up off the bed to stand near him.

"Oh, nothing," he said brightly, turning to face her better as he shrugged the coat on over his all-white hospital outfit. He straightened the sleeves as he talked. "I heard the most delightful pinging noise just now and—" he looked up, his eyes met hers, and he stopped mid-sentence again. A vapid smile spread across his lips and his head canted to the side. "What was I saying? I have utterly forgotten what you asked me." His eyes traveled her face, contentedness resting across his features, like everything he saw made him happy. "You are every masterpiece created," he proclaimed reverently, that smile never fading. "No—no—much better than that," he decided. Behind Alex, Meg made a grossed out, exasperated sound. Cas, however, had spotted something and seemed very immediately enthralled. "Oh. Oh…" he reached out and gingerly plucked a loose hair from the shoulder of Alex's shirt. Completely confused, Alex looked to see what he was doing. He drew the fallen hair away from her and looked at it like it was an amazing treasure. "Look what I found," he murmured happily.

Alex gawked at him uncertainly as he happily contemplated his find. "Um… Cas…?"

He smiled at her and his eyes practically sparkled. "I'm going to weave your fallen hairs together and make something special," he announced, and Alex's jaw basically dropped wide open. Am I tripping? Am I high right now? Cas was yet again admiring the strand of hair he'd found, and Alex literally reached over and pinched the skin of her own arm hard. Ouch. Nope. Not asleep having a wacky dream.

"Well." Meg said, standing up and coming to stand near Alex with folded arms. Cas wasn't paying attention—he was smoothing Alex's strand of hair between his thumb and forefinger with great interest. "Apparently boy toy's gone loony tunes."

It was looking that way, but… Alex tried again. "Cas, hey, look at me."

He did immediately. "Happily," he replied dreamily, his gaze full-on and intense in a moony way. "I could do so all day."

Meg hid a smirk. "W-why are you acting so weird?" Alex asked, her worry growing with every passing second. "Is—is Sam's crazy stuff doing this to you?"

Cas looked almost drugged. "Oh yes, I think so," he said breezily, then saw something on her and became excited. He reached out and plucked another loose hair off the sleeve of her shirt. His excitement abruptly became a studious frown. "I'll need more hairs than this, two isn't nearly enough…"

Alex was getting a little impatient (and dismayed) so she grabbed him by his forearms. "Cas, focus, okay?" She immediately gained his attention and he looked mildly apprehensive about the way in which she was gripping him. His eyes regarded her with growing mild dread. Alex swore he seemed like a child caught doing something wrong. She loosened her grip on him then let go completely, trying not to do anything that would upset him—even as she swallowed down a pit of distress because the Cas standing in front of her felt wrong, she steeled herself and made herself focus. "Do you remember hallucinating before you went comatose?" She was pretty sure he'd been seeing all kinds of trippy Lucifer shit in the moments before he had gone into his coma.

"Uh…" he shook his head and looked away from her keen gaze. "I don't think about bad things anymore," he said, vaguely upset. "And that… was bad." He glanced back at her then abruptly brightened. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed in sudden animation, snatching another loose hair from where it had fallen onto her other shoulder as a content smile made his face soft.

"Cas… stop doing that!" Alex exclaimed, starting to get sincerely freaked out at his weird behavior. He didn't hear her—or he ignored her—he had all three strands of hair together and was engrossed in running his thumb and forefinger down their length repeatedly. "Do you know who I am?" Alex repeated in ever-increasing doubt that made her throat tight. "Do you know who you are?"

Cas frowned quizzically, smiling at the same time, his eyes going upward as he inhaled deeply—he didn't appear to have heard a single thing she said. "Do either of you smell that?" he asked, very enthused about something. "It's amazing!" He suddenly disappeared from in front of them.

"Smell what?" Alex asked, looking around wildly in aghast confusion. No Cas anywhere to be seen and her blood-pressure was skyrocketing through the roof. "Where the hell did he go?!"

"Calm down, Barbie," Meg counseled, forever calm and judgmental. "He probably went to the garden or the kitchen if he smells something." She paused to consider something less pleasant. "Or… maybe to the pisser. But let's hope he doesn't think human waste smells amazing. Wouldn't put it past the little hair-thief though. He's like the naked guy at the rave, am I right?" Meg was a touch entertained, which pissed Alex off.

She tossed an irritated, short-tempered glare at the demon as she brushed by. "Shut up, Meg, we gotta find him."

First stop, kitchen. No Castiel. Second stop, the little flower garden that was near the hospice wing. Even though it was night time, the area was illuminated sparingly by landscaping lighting. There, in his hospital uniform and trench coat, Cas stood at a zinnia bush with a bright orange bloom cupped in his hand. He admired it in complete captivation. Relieved that Cas hadn't disappeared to Bulgaria or something, Alex hurried over to him. "Isn't it amazing?" he asked in gentle tranquility, even as his flustered companion came to a stop nearby. "Life, growth, beauty. Right next to a place where people come to die."

A little taken aback at his casual reference to hospice, Alex said nothing, and Meg, drifting up behind them, took the opportunity to make a comment. "Geez Louise, kinda morbid, isn't he?"

Cas completely ignored Meg and produced a white daisy from his other hand, offering it to a taken aback Alex. "I picked this for you," he told her hopefully, coming off like a schoolboy with a crush. "The prettiest one for the prettiest one." She hesitated then took it uncertainly as he stood there with love-filled eyes. His little smile became more and more sappy. "My beautiful bride of three years…" he murmured adoringly.

When he said that, a weight lifted off her shoulders. He did know who she was. Alex's heart seemed to unclench a little from where it had been held tight. Even though high anxiety remained, relief flooded her at the same time.

"…Your bride?" Meg asked as she pulled a ridiculously confused face as she apparently decided that Cas was more insane than she'd initially thought. Alex realized… oh yeah. Meg still didn't know that little detail about them.

"Be quiet, demon, I am attempting to romance my wife," Cas said offhandedly, never once looking away from Alex.

Meg's face suggested that she starting to wonder if Castiel was for real. Her thick eyebrows shot up high as she looked at Alex expectantly. "Wife?"

Her bottled up annoyance with the demon came out in a surge of temper. "Not now Meg!" Alex snapped, turning slightly and thwacking the demon across the chest by throwing her arm out.

"Ow!" Meg protested indignantly.

"Oh that didn't hurt!" Alex retorted peevishly, sounding like a ten year old.

"Don't like fighting," Cas said, backing up and eyeing them with extreme worry. And suddenly, his attention was grabbed as something small flew by his face. "Oh, a honeybee!" His face looked years younger and softer. "Where do you think he's going?" Cas began to wander after the bee toward the far side of the garden. "Why is this creature out at this time of night?" he asked, apparently to himself. "So curious. Isn't he the most amazing thing you've ever seen?" He paused and gave Alex a little look and smile over his shoulder. "Well, next to you of course." He crouched and watched the bee doing whatever the bee was doing inside a low patch of flowers. "Did you know that honeybees represent only a small fraction of the roughly twenty thousand known species of bees?" he asked, seeming intrigued by the fact himself. "Simply astounding." He abruptly frowned curiously. "But… what do we even need that many species of bees for…? That's what I want to know."

Alex followed him at a safe distance, trying to pace herself and remain calm in the face of his odd, unsettling rambling. "Cas, I need you to focus, please—"

He smiled off at nothing contentedly. "I can smell the life here, the molecules and atoms are just bursting with possibility," he continued, sounding incredibly peaceful and happy. "Everything is buzzing." He paused and frowned slightly. "Or maybe that's just the bees." He turned his ear downward, like he was listening to the ground.

"Cas—"

"I think it would be nice to be a honeybee, don't you?" he asked, not looking at her as he stood up slowly. He was watching the garden with bright eyes. "Besides the ability to make honey, I could also create beeswax by secreting it from a series of glands which, of course, I would have were I in fact a honeybee," he said as if he were talking about the most normal, everyday stuff on earth. Alex listened with growing incredulous despair. "Also, pollination would be a marvelous occurrence to be part of, don't you think?" Cas rambled on and on, sounding crazier and crazier and so calm about it. "But of course there would be the all-nectar diet, would I even like that? I don't know how nectar tastes. Hmm… where can I try some nectar?"

His verbal nonsense was mind-boggling. "Cas!" Alex nearly screeched, grabbing him and shaking a little. "Snap out of it!"

He looked like he'd been slapped across the face. "Don't like yelling," he said meekly, then disappeared out of her grip and was, yet again, gone and nowhere to be seen. Alex threw her empty hands up in frustration and let out a groan of distress. Shit. This was nuts—completely nuts! She wasn't exactly angry, she was just freaked out and tired as crap, hungry, confused, and Cas was… this. She had expected him to either never wake up or to wake up with a broken, tortured emotional shell. And instead he was daydreaming about turning into a honeybee? Call her crazy, but she hadn't predicted that. Alex realized she maybe had been too loud and too confrontational a minute ago and shut her eyes, breathing in and out. Okay. Just calm down and focus. Find Cas, try and figure out exactly how far gone he is, then go from there. And get a grip on yourself, geez. She let out a charged breath through a small, pursed mouth then opened her eyes and turned around, harrowed by everything she was suddenly faced with.

"Good job scaring off the little lunatic," Meg said, watching a few feet off in lofty indifference with her signature arched eyebrow. Her mouth twitched as her sparkling eyes narrowed. "So just when the hell did the first angel-human marriage take place and why wasn't I invited?"

"No one was invited," Alex muttered tersely, walking past Meg and back towards the hospital, on the lookout for Cas.

Meg followed her inside, welcome or not. "Well you're just full of surprises, Ariel," she commented, apparently very amused at the revelation. "I bet that was helluva honeymoon, hm? Your brothers know about how you're Mrs. Nutty-Bar or are we keeping this little blessed union on the down low?"

"They know, Meg," Alex replied flatly, craning her neck around as they walked down a quiet hallway. She wasn't in the mood for Meg (was she ever?). But the demon stuck by her side like a leech.

"And while we're on the subject just why aren't we calling our favorite plaid-wearing heroes yet…?" Meg asked, falsely pleasant and chipper.

Alex stopped and gave the demon a harsh look that told her to back off. "Because I need to figure out what's wrong with him first—and why he just suddenly woke up out of the blue," she snapped, irritated at the mention of her brothers. "I don't need them for every last thing, Meg." With that proclamation, she turned on her heel.

"Geez, did I touch a nerve?" Meg asked sarcastically as Alex stalked away.

---

After checking his room (empty), the bathrooms (no Cas), the dayroom (nope), the garden again (nada), Alex was thoroughly upset. And just when she was feeling like oh god he's really gone this time she abruptly stopped and sniffed in the hallway adjacent to the cafeteria. What was that? She swore she smelled something good cooking, but it was way past meal time and the kitchen was empty. Or it was supposed to be. She stole through the empty, dark cafeteria, picking up on sounds of things being moved around in the kitchen, and then the sound of humming—that low hum sounded like it could have been him. It smelled really good, whatever was being cooked. Cautiously, she stuck her head into the kitchen and sure enough, there he was. Cas was busy and content at a stainless steel countertop, ladling out some sort of batter from a mixing bowl into a waffle-maker. On the counter, there was evidence that he'd made the batter he was now spooning out: a flour sack, some milk, a measuring cup, empty egg shells, sugar, vanilla extract, and baking soda. There were two waffles already made, cooked, and waiting on a plate. That low, pitch-imperfect voice of his was absently, cheerfully humming the tune of what she was pretty sure was the I Love Lucy theme song—a show he'd watched with her once in the attic.

"…Cas?" she asked, edging into the kitchen slowly, trying not to scare him off again.

"I know that you're hungry, so I am making waffles," he announced pleasantly, smiling briefly at her like he'd expected her presence and like he didn't see how distressed she was. "I've seen it done many times before and I know how much you like breakfast foods," he said, shutting the waffle iron to begin the cooking process. He smiled absently at her. "Did you know the great eighteenth century lover Casanova recommended eating fifty oysters for breakfast? Oysters are supposed to be an aphrodisiac." He paused significantly, eyes narrowing slightly. "I don't think waffles are."

A little lost for words, Alex tried very hard not to stutter over her own misgivings. Even his face moved differently. "Yeah… no… they're not," she said, overwhelmed by his strange behavior and constant disappearances and the weird things he kept talking about. Her shoulders sagged from fatigue and she let out a heavy, tired breath as she rubbed her forehead briefly with fingertips. "Okay, first of all, can you please stop disappearing without warning? It's really stressing me out."

Cas smiled sympathetically. "You look like you need a hug," he said in a kind tone, and came over and promptly hugged her with gentle arms. He leaned his head down against hers affectionately, holding her close, confusing her more. He felt physically the same as he always had: solid, strong, warm, reassuring. Safe. And just when Alex's body relaxed a little into the embrace, he chuckled in his throat and drew back—he had picked up another fallen hair of hers in between his fingers. Oh my god are you kidding me? He glanced at her dismayed expression and finally became interested in her emotional state. "Why do you look sad?" he asked in innocent earnestness, which only broke Alex's heart further. Didn't he know?

"Because… I think something's really wrong with you," she managed in a voice barely above a whisper, searching his crystal blue eyes for some sign of him in there.

Instead of looking worried, Cas looked at her playfully. "I'm with you!" he said brightly. "How could there be anything wrong with me?" He smiled encouragingly, then abruptly reached out and tapped her on the nose with his finger, proclaiming, "Boop!"

Alex was left blinking in stunned silence as he retreated to the countertop and busied himself slathering the waffles on a plate with whipped butter. Alex put uncertain fingers to her nose. Had he really just... booped her? This was all too bizarre. He produced a brown bottle and poured syrup on in excess, just the way she always did when she ate waffles. Alex tried to keep the conversation at hand going. "I mean… bees?" she ventured, wanting a sign that there was something stable and real left in the angel she'd known for nearly five years now. "Nectar? …Collecting my hair?"

Cas's lips were upturned pleasantly. He drew in a deep, happy breath as if he were outside in fresh, exhilarating air. "Isn't it wonderful?" he asked, ignoring her question—he possibly hadn't even heard it, that's how vapid his expression was. "Rare. Beautiful. The fact that we exist at all. And that waffles have been invented." He set the plate of said waffles swimming in syrup at the end of the counter where a bar stool waited. "How long was I unconscious?" he asked, digging out a fork from a drawer and examining it for perfection before he set it beside the plate for her.

His real question gave her a small rush of hope. "A… a few weeks…" Alex said, watching him in what felt like sickened fascination. She would have loved this, loved it if he were more… you know… mentally all there. She'd daydreamed of Cas being domestic with her in the past.

"I felt you near me the entire time," Cas said, looking like himself for a brief moment—thoughtful, deep, observant. "I'm glad I wasn't alone." Those few simple words did something—touched her deeply. Validated her decisions. She smiled a little, but it was faint. At the look on her face, he frowned a little, appearing disappointed and vaguely wounded. "You still look sad," he said, then abruptly he lit up like a Christmas tree. "I know!" He pulled out a brightly colored canister from under the countertop. He gave her a sly, conspiratorial smile. "Sprinkles make everything better."

…What? Alex watched him dump nearly half of said sprinkles onto her waffles and she was frozen, remembering how she had said that exact phrase to one of her brothers just a month or two after getting her voice back. Castiel was parroting her. He stood back and with childlike anticipation and expectancy, he waited for her to eat what he'd made.

Not of the heart to not even sample the waffles he'd cooked for her, Alex tried to stow her increasingly sinking stomach and she sat down, looking at what he'd created for her. And she wanted to cry. Trying not to dwell on her emotional duress, she picked up the fork and mechanically went through the motions of cutting off a little waffle wedge. She stuck it into her mouth and chewed woodenly. It was the best damn waffle she'd ever tasted and yet she could barely swallow it down at all because she was so upset. "It's… they're good," she said faintly, and Cas beamed, which made it harder for her to say the next part. "My… my appetite's not really here though, sorry." He looked confused. Alex tried to do what she'd come here to do. "I wanted to ask you about why you're awake now."

"Because I am no longer unconscious," he replied factually, then gestured at the plate in front of her. "You're hungry," he reminded. "Please, partake."

"I, I just can't eat right now, okay?" Alex said, and her tight tone made Cas appear to withdraw slightly. Alex wet her lips and tried to sound less stressed out and more gentle. "You, you said you heard something that woke you up, right?" she asked as Cas switched off the waffle maker and plucked out another perfectly fluffy, golden-brown waffle.

He set it onto another plate with care and love, apparently very pleased with what he'd made. "Yes, I still don't know what it was and quite honestly—" he looked up abruptly, like he'd heard something. "Wait. Do you hear that?" he asked softly, a grin beginning to grow on his face.

Alex strained to hear what he meant, but she heard nothing. "Hear what?" she asked, standing up in anticipation of him about to disappear again.

He grinned at her, and it reached his eyes. "Music."

Abruptly, they were no longer in the kitchen but in the dayroom—the area where patients and visitors alike came to spend time doing whatever recreational things their little hearts desired. There were couches, a pool table, board games and cards, some toys for children, magazines and books, a television, and a stereo with a variety of old CDs stacked high. Sure enough, music was playing, but it was so quiet Alex could barely hear it now let alone when they'd been in the cafeteria a hallway or two away.

Cas bent and turned it up slowly—it was some kind of oldies, doo-wop by the sounds of it, and whatever song was playing was about to be over. Cas turned and looked at Alex shyly. "We've… never danced together, you and I," he said hopefully. "Not really. Not even on… the day when we should have," he said, then came to her and hesitatingly put his arm around her waist and then took her hand. "Is it like this?" he asked softly, his eyes looking into hers.

The next song began to play—piano, male harmonies, a slow drum beat. It sounded familiar. Alex felt a little breathless at Cas's sudden closeness and intensity. "I d-dunno," Alex said nervously, a little surprised to find herself in this situation so abruptly. "I—I guess."

Cas, barely hiding his giddiness at what was happening, grinning and giggle-chuckling deep in his throat. He began to lead the way in a very endearingly awkward dance that Alex was basically an unwitting victim to. Just the two of them in a dim dayroom: an unsure Alex with a loony tunes Cas. And a song that Alex recognized from Back the the Future when the men began to sing.

Oh, whoa-ah-oh-oh—
Earth angel, earth angel
Will you be mine?
My darling dear, love you all the time
I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you…

Cas stepped on her feet a few times and exclaimed 'whoops!' and 'oopsie' and a giggled 'my apologies,' as the song crooned onward. He watched her with very open gazes that made her slightly uncomfortable. But she went along with it and was just glad no one was there to see their ridiculous attempt.

Earth angel, earth angel
The one I adore
Love you forever and ever more
I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you-ou-ou…

"Uh, sorry," Alex apologized, stepping on his foot when she thought he was going to move backward but instead he moved forward.

He didn't seem to even notice. "These lyrics seem oddly appropriate, do they not?" Cas observed serenely, smiling at her like he loved her with his entire heart.

This had to be more of the more surreal, strange moments in her life. A few minutes ago she'd been pining for Cas's return as he laid in a coma on the bed. And now… here he was, dancing with her to a song that seemed ironic given the circumstances. The last time Cas had been in his right mind, he'd been basically saying it was over between them, that it wouldn't work and that he was walking away. She hadn't understood then, she didn't understand now, and she thought there was more to that conversation—but they had never gotten the chance to finish it. Confused and forlorn, Alex buried her face in his shoulder and pulled her hand out of his to circle both arms around his waist. Her heart hurt with uncertainty and confusion. Would he always be like this? But at least he wasn't running away from her…

Earth angel, earth angel
Please be mine
My darling dear, love you all the time
I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you-ou-ou…

The music continued but Alex drew back and looked at Cas, trying to find an answer to all the questions she had. He was studying her somberly, and one of his hands came to touch her face sweetly. Entranced, seeing a glimpse of who he was inside, Alex's breath caught. He looked like he might kiss her. And then, like he was reading her mind, he became apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I don't kiss you anymore," he said, drawing back and taking her hand and kissing the knuckles chivalrously. "Not on the mouth." He let go of her hand and looked down. "Kissing makes things bad."

Earth Angel played softly as it neared the end of the track and Alex looked at her husband in dire confusion and pain—he was scanning the room in vast interest, ignoring her again. It was like a huge chunk of him was missing. Like he was just… broken.

"Cas, what's happening to you?" she asked in a hurt murmur as he walked away to look through the board games that were loosely stored in a large bin near the tables. "I don't… I don't recognize you."

"Isn't photosynthesis an amazing process?" he asked, shaking his head in awed reverence. "When I think about the design necessary to convert light to energy… I'm mesmerized." He paused thoughtfully, fascinated by his own thoughts. "I can feel the vibrations of the universe right here," he murmured softly, as if to himself. "I wish you could hear it, Alex, it's so grand—and, admittedly, strange." That was the first time he'd used her actual name since waking, and it startled her. Cas was off in his own little world though, and didn't notice her surprise. "What exactly is doing the vibrating?" he asked, digging through the games leisurely. "Perhaps we'll never know." He paused, then a grin split his face. "Look what I found!" he said, pulling out a beat up Candy Land box. "We should play this right away."

He sat down at the nearest table and began to take everything out in a blissful, cheery way. Alex felt even further devastated. "You… wanna play board games?" she asked doubtfully. Did he not remember the world they were living in or the stakes they were faced with? "There's… there's Leviathan out there," she reminded him. "There's demons hunting us down."

"Yes and there's a demon standing in the doorway, but I don't let it bother me," Cas said casually—Alex turned quickly. It was just Meg. How long had she been there? "This is a different life now for us, beloved," Cas said calmly, like that was that. He gestured at the board game pieces. "Now, what color would you like to be?"

"Cas—" Alex was getting really riled up but she sat down across from Cas in an attempt to make eye contact and maybe get through to the newly birdbrained angel. "We can't sit here for the rest of time and play games."

Cas looked innocent and completely unaware of her meaning. "Cards then," he said, and there was suddenly a deck in his hands and he was dealing the cards languidly, just like he'd learned years ago. "I remember when you and Sam showed me how to play poker," he said, picking up the cards he'd dealt himself and looking through them to see what hand he had. A secretive smile crossed his lips and his suddenly-coy eyes snapped up to look into hers. "That was the same day that you and I lost our virginity to each other," he said, then set down five cards proudly as Alex balked, very aware of how close Meg was standing. "Full house," he announced in self-satisfaction. When Alex just stared at him without taking the cards he'd dealt, Cas's head tilted to the side. "Do you feel unwell?" he questioned.

Did she feel unwell? She'd spent the past few weeks with a snarky-ass demon, estranged from her oldest brother and depressed about life all over again. The world was full of Leviathans and worse and Cas was awake again but only of the mental capacity to want to play games...? "I… I can't sit here and play cards with you," she said, disappointed and spiraling into an inner pit of brokenhearted despair. "Are you kidding me?"

Cas frowned, not too concerned. He eyed the cards. "Why not? The set seems to be in order…"

Hurt, Alex didn't think she should have to explain why not. "Because Sam and Dean need our help."

Cas immediately declined. "Oh no, I don't like to get involved with problematic things anymore," he said matter-of-factly. "It doesn't ever end nicely for me or who I love." He sat back and smiled at Alex with a fanciful expression. "Did you know, until the nineteen-sixties, the only reliable pregnancy test was to inject a woman's urine into a female African clawed frog? If the woman was pregnant, the frog would ovulate within twelve hours."

Alex stared at him, dumbfounded. "…What's that got to do with anything?" she asked, voice climbing a little in pitch from growing frustration.

"I thought you would find that fact interesting," Cas replied. He peered at her curiously. "Are you going to play?"

She wanted to throw something. But instead, Alex tried a different approach: cutting to the chase and bringing up something she really needed to get some answers to. She paced herself and leaned over the table, trying to tell him with body language and facial expression that she needed him to give her something. "Cas, last time we talked, we fought," she said. "You said things that—that I'm still not over. Do you know what I'm talking about? Do you remember that?"

Cas looked at her long and quiet, then opened his mouth… and did nothing to help her remaining questions whatsoever. "Did you know female kangaroos have three vaginas?" he asked, apparently puzzled and a little amused at the fact. "For the life of me, I can't fathom what for." He made a face, smiling through a look of determination, switching from one topic to the next disconcertingly. "I think I should learn to play an instrument," he said, sounding incredibly enthusiastic about that idea. "I would write love songs for you."

Alex let out a disillusioned puff of air and pushed out of the chair she'd been in and walked off to stand at the nearby window, a few feet away where she could gather her thoughts and not yell at Cas. For all she knew, he had zero control over himself and maybe what she was trying to say to him got lost in translation. Maybe it wasn't his fault he couldn't seem to hear what she said and asked. But god, this was frustrating. And she didn't really care about kangaroo vaginas, to be honest.

Behind her, fabric swished, indicating someone's approach. Meg's low, throaty voice sounded as she came to stand and lean near the window where Alex could see her. "Look, Ariel, clearly, he's off his rocker. Whatever Sam-sanity he took, it's getting to him." Meg's voice lowered a little more. "And come on, we talked about this being a possibility, remember?" Yeah. On a couple late nights Meg had goaded Alex into a few conversations about what might happen to Cas if he ever awoke again. The two of them had even smoked some marijuana one night and it had almost felt like a friendship. Alex tried to brush it off. Meg looked vaguely sympathetic about Alex's clear state of emotional trauma. "Strap in, sweetie, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

The two women turned to study Cas, who was sitting at the table with his hands clasped in his lap, looking off unseeingly with a little smile on his face like he was daydreaming about something pleasant. Without looking at the girls, Cas spoke. "We made love in a rainstorm once, Alex and I," he said wistfully, his voice rich with pleasantry and recollection. Alex's expression fell into something that silently seemed to ask are you fucking kidding me? His smile grew and he looked down, then over their way, looking like the cat that ate the canary. "I'm thinking about that right now."

Meg was thoroughly amused at Alex's misfortune. "Oh boy. Isn't your hubby charming," she purred. Cas was wandering off and he sat down on one of the couches and began to page through a National Geographic magazine with great interest. Meg watched him hawkishly and spoke to Alex as she did so. "Call your brothers, see if they can hot rod it over, kay? Then we decide what to do with Beautiful Mind over there." She bopped Alex's shoulder with hers. "Buck up, Broomstick. I'll keep tabs on our little tree topper." She wrinkled her nose at Alex and winked. "Say hi to Sammy for me." She sashayed off to stand a little closer to Cas, who ignored her in favor of a glossy spread about Nigeria's natural wonders.

Alex retreated a little for call privacy and hovered at the doorway to the dayroom, scrolling through her contacts. She wasn't gonna like call and beg her brothers to come save her or something, but they definitely should know Cas was awake. Alex got fed up fast—Sam's name was gone off her contact list. Meg had been in her phone again, she was pretty sure of it. She went to her text messages and sure enough, found her most recent threaded conversation with Sam. Only, his name had been changed (again) to 'the tall one.' Which probably meant Dean's name was now 'the short one.' When did Meg keep doing that crap? She sent a glance the demon's way, who was waiting with a cheeky little grin. Alex didn't crack or smile, she dropped her gaze away and swore next time, she was sleeping with her phone under her pillow.

Alex fired off a quick text to Sam, because she didn't want to interrupt anything her brothers had going on.

Hey, where are you guys? Cas is awake and something's wrong with him

Not even fifteen seconds later, Sam called. He had kind of been her saving grace lately—keeping her apprised of everything going on with stuff on their end, checking on her well-being pretty much daily, making sure she didn't feel left out in the cold or out of the loop, commiserating with her about Meg. She answered the phone softly, watching Cas out of the corner of her eye. "Hey Sam."

"Hey—" his familiar tenor voice said. He sounded surprised and optimistic. "Cas is awake?"

She answered cautiously, eyes sliding to her bonkers angel in the dayroom. "Yeah…"

"Wow, when'd that happen?" Sam asked, and she could hear the intrigued frown on his face.

Alex scratched her head and checked her watch then put her hand on her hip, nervous energy making her a little restless. "Uh—half an hour ago, maybe?"

There was a pause that seemed distinctly startled. "Half an hour," Sam repeated. "Huh, okay—you said something's wrong with him? What, hallucinations?"

That was a reasonable conclusion to jump to. Alex watched Cas, who was turning his magazine around in a circle, looking at the pages of his magazine upside down and sideways with a neck twisted far to the side. "No—he's… he's like two fries short of a happy meal," Alex said, trying not to be audibly upset. "Like, I dunno what to tell you, he's um—he's just not right."

Sam picked up on her emotional state like he always did. "You okay?" he asked, and the care there really meant a lot to Alex. She tried to force a laugh, but it came out weird, like a sad huffing sound. Before she had a chance to reply, Sam spoke again. "Yeah, you know what? Dean and I aren't far. We'll double time it your way, all right?"

"Wh—you don't have to if you're in the middle of something."

"No, we just wrapped this one up," Sam assured her. "I was honestly wanting to come see you anyway, and we got something we need Cas to take a look at, so…" he trailed off, sounding concerned on her behalf. "Hang in there, Alex, okay?" he encouraged, then paused. "Love you, all right?"

Ever since she'd given him that letter, they'd been closer. And he'd said the 'love you' thing a few more times than what was normal. Her heart tugged and Alex rolled her eyes against a real emotional reaction and tried to turn it into a joke. "Yeah, love you too, dork," she said in a thick voice, and heard him chuckle before they both ended the call. She breathed out a puff of air, trying to get a handle on herself. She was so, so glad she'd get to see them again. Especially Sam. Dean hadn't really talked to her in like a month now, ever since he'd stormed out of this hospital angry with her for staying behind. She kind of dreaded seeing him to be honest… it sucked when they fought. And she felt incredibly slighted by his silent treatment. It hurt.

Alex pocketed her phone and headed back into the room. "Eat your heart out, Hallmark," Meg drawled as Alex neared—apparently she'd been eavesdropping.

"Shut up, Meg," Alex muttered. Meg took the evil eye as a cue and she backed off to lurk in the doorway again. Alex sat down near to the wayward angel gingerly. "Hey, Cas?"

He was smiling at a magazine spread. "If mankind could draw with total accuracy, no one would ever have to travel this world to appreciate its majesty," he said, then abruptly conceded that there was a problem with what he'd just said. "Of course, the modern invention of the photograph negates what I just said but…" he looked up and gave her a quizzical frown, switching topics abruptly. "Why is Meg here?"

There was no short answer for that. "She's been helping me, sorta," Alex said grudgingly.

"Oh, that's nice," Cas commented. "Unexpected, but nice. I trust your judgement." He continued peering at the magazine, holding it sideways.

Alex watched him a second. "Sam and Dean are on their way, okay?" she asked, hoping to get some kind of reply from him. "We're gonna… figure out how to unfry your brain." She hesitated, doubtful. "Maybe."

Cas smiled to himself. "All actions have consequences—isn't it grand, the laws of the universe?" He looked at her, appearing tranquil. "Life is funny. And by funny, I mean strange, of course. Well, and sometimes funny in a literal sense. Like when gorillas urinate on each other out of spite. Have you ever seen it? Very amusing, even I have to admit." He stood up and drifted over to the games again, leaving Alex to watch him in a mournful state.

"Are you for real with this?" she asked quietly, slowly standing as she gazed at him sadly. "Where's the Castiel I know?"

He smiled and indicated himself with both hands. "I'm right here!" he said, then held up a finger like he was about to say something. "Now, the most important question." He bent and pulled out a colorful box out of the game stack. "What's Parcheesi?"

Alex could have wept. And Cas saw that and abruptly lowered the game and became downtrodden. "I'm… not like I used to be," he said, sounding pained and lost. "My mind, it's… I can't get my own hands around it." He held the Parcheesi box with both hands and looked down at it blankly. "You should leave me, Alex," he said quietly. "I'm bad."

Something about that small moment where his vulnerability and pain and mental incapacity really showed itself grabbed her tight and Alex shook her head fiercely. "No," she said, going over to him and hugging him tight, box and all. "I'm not leaving you." Not after everything they had been through. No way in hell.

He abruptly dropped the box so that he could put his arms around her, too. Pieces went rolling everywhere onto the floor when the box fell open, but neither of them did anything about it. "You're nice," Cas murmured into her hair. "So, so nice." She could hear him smiling. "I feel inspired," he announced with sudden brightness and he drew back, looked around with animated eyes. "Where is some paper?"

"Paper for what?" Alex asked slowly, jarred out of a brief moment of comfort.

"For the things inside of me," Cas replied as if that settled it.

Alex's face scrunched up slightly. "Uh… okay." She motioned at the sign in sheet at the entrance of the room. "Over there?" Cas bumbled off, eyes set on scrap paper. Meg gave him a wide berth and joined Alex, who sat down at a table again and put her head in her hands. "They're on the way," she said, probably needlessly.

"Good," Meg murmured. "Maybe Tweedledum and Tweedledee will know what to do with him, 'cause I sure as hell don't." She watched Alex, who watched Cas. "What's wrong with you?" the demon questioned flippantly.

Alex couldn't summon any fire to make a rude retort. She was too sad about what had happened to the one she loved. "He's broken."

"And?" Meg prompted, a slow smile spreading across her face. "So are you." She smirked lazily. "It's one of the things I like about you, cupcake. All that thorny pain and heart of darkness melodrama. Now you two are like the box set." She paused and then gave Alex a playfully lecturing look. "You're actually surprised he's not A-plus on the mental health scale? We all know what he did. Everything has a price, Ariel…" When Alex said nothing, Meg flirted with the possibilities as dark amusement played in her voice. "So you gonna bail now? Hit the highway and find a better, less broken-down angel for yourself? Or maybe you could try someone from downstairs on for size."

"Why is everything such a huge joke with you?" Alex asked, disgusted and annoyed with Meg's constant apathy.

"Because life is a joke," Meg replied calmly. "And the saps living it are the punch lines." She spread her hands and sat back in the chair like she was queen of the world. "Sooner you accept that, the better."

"Good, so I can be like you," Alex retorted. "A cynical bitch."

"Oh, like you're not a cynical bitch already?" Meg replied sweetly, then pursed her lips and made an overly thoughtful face. "Yeah, you're right. Mopey, sorry-for-herself, spoiled little baby bitch—" She smiled smugly, pleased with the look she'd gotten onto Alex's face. "That dress fits a little better, doesn't it, sweetie?"

"I'd exorcise your ass right here and now if I had more energy," Alex threatened flatly.

Meg just smiled and wiggled her eyebrows once, appearing very pleased with the statement. "Love you too."

Alex heaved a dark sigh.

Cas was shuffling back over with a scrap of paper. He held it out to her with hopeful eyes. "I made something for you," he said meekly, then held it out further. Alex took it uncertainly, then realized he'd written something in his strong, elegant handwriting on the back. She realized, as she read it, that it was an untitled poem.

No forest can ever be as deep or
as lush as the eyes of my beloved.
I am drawn to her
like a bee to a flower.
I land softly, lest I tarnish the innocent petal.

She looked up at him in impressed surprise after she had read it—Cas could write poetry? He stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, a nervous expression on his face. "It's about you," he said. "And me. I'm the bee, and you're the flower. It's a metaphor." He paused, and explained further needlessly. "About how much I love you. Which is very, very much." He looked like he was bracing himself for a possible letdown. "Do you… like it?"

"Yeah—" she said, not sure what to say. No one had given her poetry before. "Yeah, it's… it's really good, Cas. I… I love it." He smiled as if in relief and his hands unclasped from behind his back. On a whim, she reached out and grasped his hand where it hung at his side gently. "Thanks."

"I will write a hundred thousand poems for you," he vowed intensely, then cocked his head to the side as he studied her. "You seem very tired," he said, and touched her head gently, an unexpected contact. "Would you like to me to cuddle you to sleep?"

Uh… Alex remembered Meg was watching when there was a loud snort of amusement. Meg's smirk was very pronounced. "Well don't let me get in your way," she said.

Alex opened her mouth to say something, but then she and Cas were in his hospital room again in the dark and he was busy turning down the bedding. "I love cuddling with you," he said casually as he smoothed the sheets with care. "Even the word itself sounds cozy." He turned around to face Alex, who had a sinking stomach again. It was so hard to see him in this odd behavior. "Words are interesting, aren't they?" he asked contentedly, then proceeded to say a few he apparently found to be that way: "Coconut. Poppycock. Bungalow. Diaphanous." He paused, seeing the look on Alex's face, and he was a little surprised. "You're sad," he observed, growing that way himself. "Please don't be sad, I don't like it when you're sad."

"I'm really glad you're awake, Cas," she said honestly. "But… I don't know how to take you like this."

"I'm still me," he said softly, coming close to her and running his hand down the side of her face then through her hair. For a minute, he transfixed her. Then he abruptly grinned and his hand went low and he smacked her on the butt lightly, giggling when he did so.

"Hey!" she half-protested.

"Booty," he said, grinning the entire time.

"…Booty?" she echoed incredulously, not sure what the hell was going on.

"It's a funny word," he explained then grabbed her by hers and pulled her close again. "And yours is so nice…" he said, his hand definitely not being shy about groping a handful of hers. And then before she could even register what was happening, he suddenly let go and his smile fell away as if he'd been stung. "But I don't touch you anymore," he said, a self-flailing quiet in his tone as he drew back by a couple steps and looked down, hanging his head and appearing uncomfortable with himself. "It's bad. I'm bad."

"You're not bad," Alex counseled, following his distance slightly.

Cas was all business again, and he grabbed a pillow off the bed and fluffed it roughly like Dean sometimes did. Another thing he must have observed watching the Winchester family for all the time he had. "You should sleep," he said, his tone even and professional and not acknowledging the previous moment of despair at all. "I can sense your exhaustion."

True that, but going to sleep at a time like this was insane. "Yeah, no…" Alex shook her head, still a little beside herself at the butt grab from a moment ago. "I'm definitely not going to sleep, Cas."

He perked up a little and abandoned his pillow efforts. "Back to the dayroom, then!" He said, then grew a little quieter and became adorably hopeful. "I… want to play all of the games there with my best friend," he said softly, stiltedly. Alex's heart fluttered in her chest. He meant her, and it got to her fast. Best friend. Maybe other women would be offended if the man who they counted as their lover called them that. But it struck her as one of the most beautiful things he could say. She wasn't even entirely sure why, but maybe it was reassurance that even if they couldn't be what they were before, they would always be friends—best friends. She could live with that, maybe. His eyes drank her in and he appeared to be contemplating her the way she was contemplating him. "You are the most beautiful woman on the planet," he said softly. "Have I mentioned it yet?"

A helpless little smile tugged at her lips and she tried to hide it. Maybe they couldn't just be best friends. He said she was beautiful often, but she still didn't know what he meant: She looked in the mirror and saw a haggard girl with a face that was too long and features that were too sharp, hair that was too messy and dry, a personality that was lacking in a lot of areas. "You need to get your eyes checked, Cas," she joked.

Cas didn't get the joke. "My eyes work exceptionally well, I assure you."

A little smile popped onto her face. Cas's very doltish sense of humor—one of the things she loved so much—was still there. His love of her was still there, in some strange way. He was different, yeah, but he was alive. He wasn't torn apart inside like Sam had been. Maybe this was the best case scenario. Not ideal, no, but… as long as he would be okay somehow, she promised herself she would be, too. "Do me a favor." Alex slipped her hand into his and looked up at him thoroughly. "Can we walk to the dayroom instead of angel-winging it?"

He covered her hand with his other one, so that both his hands enveloped her one. "I will walk with you to the ends of the earth," he replied in a quiet fierceness that came out of nowhere.

Alex hesitated, that same little smile growing on her face despite her best tries to squash it away. "Um… the dayroom is fine, for now," she said, remembering when she had just met Cas and his strange ways had endeared her to him and then made her fall in love with him. She felt similarly at that exact moment in time.

He smiled too because she did and for a minute, it felt like they were them again. Cas's smile fell away into a more severe expression that made him look like himself again. "I think anyone else would have left me a long time ago," he murmured, his eyes searching hers deeply and reverently. "I will belong to you until the last breath escapes my lungs. And then even after that." Rendered speechless at the declaration, Alex stared at him dumbly, attempting to find a reply. But then he was pulling her out of the room by the hand, that glazed over, happy look on his face again. "Did you know a boar can have an orgasm that lasts for fifteen entire minutes?" he asked. "Can you even imagine if I was the same?"

They walked down the hallway hand in hand, and Alex's very unsure, "uh…" echoed in the stark space.

---

About Six Hours Later
3:21am

First, they played Candy Land, then Parcheesi, then chess, then checkers. In the middle of a third match in checkers, Castiel abruptly insisted on visiting the gardens to make Alex, his 'queen,' a flower crown of all things. As he twisted and tied flower stems together, he quoted awkwardly from Song of Songs, aka the raciest book in the Bible. Alex wasn't sure if she should laugh or melt away from embarrassment by proxy. When her stomach kept rumbling loudly, they returned to the kitchen and Cas made fresh waffles and she actually ate them that time (they were freakishly good, too, and she called him Chef Castiel, which he got confused about). When she had eaten, they cleaned up the mess that had been left behind. During the entire time spent together, there were the constant weird animal facts, strange nonsensical comments that came out of nowhere, and a general avoidance from him from any subjects of real importance unless he brought them up. Oh, and he still wouldn't stop picking up her stray, fallen hairs. He hugged her at random a few times, praising her continuously, touching her shoulder, her head, her back whenever the opportunity arose. Then, he stood behind her while she washed some dishes and he got very, very close and breathed down her neck while he touched her arms and said in a very smoldering voice that she was 'so sexy.' He abruptly got upset with himself and disappeared. Alex found him after another long search in the tiny little hospital library where no sooner had she walked in than he read the following passage aloud to her out of Jane Eyre:

"I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel—I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you—and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

He then requested to please watch I Love Lucy and dragged her to the dayroom without anything further. Alex fell asleep there on the couch against him as they watched the old show and she didn't notice when he ported them back to his room. She drifted in and out of consciousness, because he was talking to her nonstop as she laid half-asleep against his chest and he held her there firmly.

"It's so peculiar," he mused currently, on a tangent about his existence. He had been talking forever, mostly about things of no importance. This, though, actually meant something so Alex tried to stay awake. "Thinking back to who I was in the beginning, all I've seen and know," he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through her. "Adam and Eve, the flood, the tower of Babel. Everything they wrote about in the Old Testament, and more. And then of course what they left out."

"Like what?" Alex asked sleepily out of the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were too heavy to keep open but she was trying not to nod off completely. He felt so nice beside her.

Cas began to rattle off things that didn't answer her question. "The Wisdom of Solomon, Baruch, Judith, the Epistle of Jeremiah, Bel and the Dragon, the Prayer of Azariah to name a few," he said, then sighed thoughtfully. "Things get forgotten. Lost in translation. Lost in time. Time is very vast."

"Yeah…" Alex replied in a muffled voice, barely cognizant of what he'd just said at all. His heart beat under her ear, his chin moved against her forehead, telling her that he was turning his head to look at her. It took all of her willpower, but she forced her eyes open so she could see him.

He was gazing at her already, and his arms, which were both around her, drew her a little closer. "I could hold you like this forever," he said softly, studying her for a very long moment. His face inched forward fractionally, like he was about to kiss her—and then he seemed to slap himself internally and he drew back sort of jarringly and his voice became louder. "Did you know butterflies can taste with their feet?" he asked, jolting her. "I still don't know what the use of that feature is." He paused and listened hard, then looked toward the door. "Oh. We're about to have company."

"We're what?" Alex asked, then was unceremoniously dropped as Cas disappeared from the bed—he was now standing by the window and he peered out curiously. Alex sat up a little grouchily and rubbed an eye with the heel of her hand, trying to wake herself up. She usually had the opposite problem—sleeping was difficult because of the Oxy addiction and insomnia was more normal than anything else, but today she'd had a kind of big hit around dinner time and it had made her feel increasingly zombified for whatever reason. She didn't like to admit it to herself, but she was losing ground in that battle. She needed to get a grip on it, stat. Tonight felt like a weird trance to her, drugs or not.

There was a noise at the doorway into the room and Alex protested and squinted as Meg flipped on the lights to the room. Too bright. Sam and Dean's big, familiar figures were there behind the demon, and Alex's stomach flipped in surprise to actually see them standing there in person after about a month of separation.

"Hey guys!" she exclaimed in breathless surprise, her voice scratchy from sleep as she jumped out of bed.

A dimply grin cracked her twin's face and Sam came over and greeted her with a big hug then he looked her over with a little smile. "Hey."

Dean didn't give her a death glare or a pointedly cold shoulder, but he didn't give her a hug or a greeting, either—he just gave her a brief, neutrally acknowledging look before frowning over at Cas curiously. "Hey, Cas." He looked like he wasn't totally thrilled about being here and wasn't looking forward to seeing how bad off Cas was or wasn't.

Cas turned from the window. "Hello, Dean." No reply, just a wary look. Cas looked at the tallest one. "Sam."

Sam smiled a little, obviously pretty surprised to see Cas in apparently decent condition. "Hey, Castiel."

"Look at you, walkin' and talkin,'" Dean said cautiously even as Cas approached the brothers by a few steps. Oddly enough, Dean's face showed some beginning hints of relief. "That's—that's great, right?" He looked over at Alex skeptically for a second opinion and she said nothing, because she was pretty sure Dean would find out shortly.

Sure enough, Cas smiled slightly, then for no apparent reason, he pointed at Dean, paused significantly, then lowered his chin slightly. "Pull my finger."

Dean looked positively confounded. "W…hat?"

"My finger," Cas reiterated calmly. "Pull it."

Dean and Sam, in perfect unison, turned to look at Alex sidelong for explanation or maybe a go-ahead. She shrugged and made an I don't know face. Their guess was as good as hers. Dean hesitated unwillingly then raised his hand, let it hover near Cas's, then bit the bullet and gripped then pulled Cas's finger. The light fixture above shattered and the room was plunged into darkness again as glass scattered across the floor. And then, Cas laughed.

"Um… okay. BRB." Meg said, and disappeared out of the room.

Cas was still chuckling, but he was the only one. When no one else seemed to get whatever joke he was amused by, he explained, a grin still on his face. "Just like when we first met!" he said to Dean, then he paused. "And, um, also at the Vatican," he said, his eyes slyly drifting to Alex as a secretive, coy smile tugged at his wide lips. Her eyes bulged slightly.

"The Vatican?" Sam asked intently, frowning in extreme interest. "Wait, you mean to tell me that was you who broke all the priceless, antique stained-glass windows in their library a few years ago, Cas?" Alex gaped at Sam in horror—how did he know that?! He shrugged in mild defensiveness at her look. "It was on the news, unsolved mystery of the year, you don't remember?" he asked, mistaking her mortification for confusion.

"Oh, she remembers," Cas said serenely, helpfully. "She helped me do it."

The look that came over Sam's face at that comment. Alex's eyes flew to Cas as her jaw dropped open at his lack of discretion. Dean was scoffing, having missed the insinuation completely. "What, you guys decided to go throw rocks through windows in Italy for kicks or something?" he asked, his tone suggesting he thought they were totally lame.

"Dean," Sam said, obviously feeling awkward—he was just a tad more intuitive than his older brother—he remembered the shattered TV and lights in the motel room that one time that Cas and Alex had been together shortly after his soul had been replaced, and he got Cas's implication about glass-breaking very clearly. He made a face like he was telling his brother to really rethink his statement.

A look of chagrined realization dawned on Dean's face as he made the connection, too. "…Oh my god."

Just in case it wasn't clear: "It was because of sex," Castiel proclaimed proudly and needlessly.

Alex's face collapsed into her palm as she became entirely done with the moment unfolding in the hospital room. She muttered something incoherent.

"Yeah—uh—we got it," Sam assured Cas awkwardly.

"Say no more," Dean put in, appearing just about as done as his sister was. "Like, seriously. Don't say anything else."

"It was a very beautiful moment," Cas said earnestly, disobeying Dean's commandment.

Alex had never wanted to disappear out of the air as much as she wanted to right then. "Cas, stop," she said in red-faced exasperation. "Stop! They don't need to hear about your beautiful moment!"

"Our beautiful moment," Cas corrected sincerely, looking at her in an affectionate, appreciative way.

"Ungmuffblug," Alex muttered despondently, dragging a hand across her reddened face.

"Dude…" Dean complained, clearly pretty embarrassed himself.

"Hey," Sam comforted Alex however awkwardly, putting an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder lightly as she shook her head.

Meg returned at that moment with a spare lamp and plugged it in. As she did, Alex crossed her arms and stood apart from Sam, trying to look more independent. "No more sideshow tricks, Clarence, 'kay?" Meg asked, then turned on the lamp, and the room was dimly illuminated again. "Let there be light," the demon wisecracked.

Cas was off in his own little world. "This could be dangerous," he noted, looking at the broken glass littering the floor. He waved his hand in a dreamy way, and all the glass disappeared instantly.

Dean, forcing himself to get over the awkwardness of the previous moment. "Okay, just—just hang on, Cas, focus, okay?"

"You remember who you are, right?" Sam asked intently, sitting down on the edge of the bed and leaning over a knee as he watched Cas closely. Alex noticed he had a backpack with him and he set it down beside himself. "What you are."

"Yes. Of course," Cas said, then suddenly brightened. "Oh! Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add!"

"…You might wanna add a little Thorazine," Sam said, frowning and looking over at Alex, who stood off a few steps.

"He's been like this since he woke up," she said, dour again. She'd felt sort of okay about him in the past six hours, but now with other people present, she was starting to feel not-so-confident.

Cas was smiling at her like a lovesick puppy. "Will you look at her?" he asked, full of admiration. "How is it possible for a woman to be as incredible as she is?"

Dean looked like he would rather eat his own shoe than stand in that room and listen to what Cas was yammering on about. Sam, forever the peacemaker, smiled tightly. "We'll uh, we'll let you know when we find out," he said, playing along.

Cas sighed, eyes still all for Alex. "I could make love to her for years and it still wouldn't be enough…" he said dreamily, instantly taking the awkward factor in the room to a solid eleven.

"Dude!" Dean protested immediately. "We're right here, can you not say that kind of stuff?! Jesus Christ!"

"Yeah, just… just save it for the private moments," Sam counseled uncomfortably.

Alex was red in the face and had her lips drawn thinly across her face and clamped closed as she tried very valiantly not to die from embarrassment.

"Whatever you wish," Cas replied to the boys, his eyes still on Alex and his head tilted to the side as he marveled at her with gentle eyes.

Dean sat down in a chair beside the bed and put his head in his hands and apparently decided he had nothing else to say for the moment. Sam cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, signaling that he was taking charge and leaving the awkward behind. "Okay! So!" he stood up. "Cas, you woke up just a few hours ago, right?"

"Yes," Cas replied pleasantly. "I heard a 'ping!' that pierced me, and, well, you wouldn't have heard it unless you were an angel at the time. Which, of course, you weren't."

"Well, a few hours ago is when we opened this," Sam said, then handed over the backpack in which Alex could see what appeared to be a large, flat stone with strange symbols scratched into it.

Castiel smiled down at the object fondly, drawing it out of the bag and letting the bag fall to the floor. "Oh. Of course… now I understand."

"Understand what?" Alex prompted, craning her neck a little as she tried to get a better look at their pet rock or whatever it was. "What is that thing, guys?"

Cas abruptly chuckled, smiling bashfully to himself. "It makes sense now," he said, studying the stone fondly.

Dean stood up, sounding a little short on patience. He had his arms crossed. "What? What makes sense?"

"If someone was going to free the Word from the vault of the earth, it would end up being you two," Cas said, and it sounded like a compliment. "Oh, I love you guys," he abruptly declared, and he suddenly looped his arms around both of the Winchester brother's necks into a hug. "Not as much as I love your sister, of course," he reminded, squeezing them tight.

"Oh, uck," Dean complained, patting Cas grudgingly in an attempt to escape the embrace. "Okay. All right. Okay." Sam was patting too.

"My family," Cas said proudly, drawing back and holding Dean by the upper arm briefly before he let go. "My brothers in law." His face fell abruptly and he looked very worried indeed. "Well, uh… I don't mean to bring up a subject of dissent," he said nervously.

"Yeah, uh…" Sam spoke instead of Dean, who looked ready to kick something. "You—you said something about 'The Word,'" he said, indicating the stone again. "Is that what's written on there?"

Cas blinked, innocent and wide-eyed and dead-set on avoiding answering questions, it seemed. "Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft?" he asked, then raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that." He contemplated his words for a second as everyone else in the room exchanged weirded out looks. "I can only assume a sharp penis would not be pleasant for the female during penetration," Cas supposed, then looked at Alex for support. "Can you imagine if my penis were barbed, Alex? I highly doubt you would find my penis enjoyable during sexual congress if it were pointy and sharp."

Dean looked like he was going to be emotionally scarred for the rest of all time. "Dude… Cas… can you please stop using the word penis?" he asked, sounding a little like he had given up on life completely.

"Would you prefer the term 'sexual organ'?" Cas asked, the picture of innocent inquisitiveness and helpfulness.

Dean practically facepalmed. "Oh my god, someone make him stop—" he muttered, then flung his hand out and made a face. "Cas, please, we're losing ground out there, okay? We need your help, not your weird dick facts!"

Cas, however, was looking at Alex expectantly, waiting for her to answer his original question. She said nothing for a long moment—her expression silently asked really? Cas's features became more and more longing of an answer and totally rueful and defeated, Alex heaved a sigh and answered despite her strong desire to leave the subject matter behind. "No, Cas, I wouldn't like it if your…" she made a face like she was being emotionally tortured, "penis… was barbed, okay?"

He nodded studiously, seeming to have suspected as much. "That's what I thought," he said, then looked at the stone again, turning around to better view it with window light. "Oh. This is the handwriting of Metatron," he said softly, his back turned to them.

"Metatron?" Sam asked, growing abruptly indignant and short on patience and close to fed up with Cas's strange ramblings. "You saying a Transformer wrote that?!"

"No," Dean corrected his sadly misinformed brother immediately. "That's Me-ga-tron."

Sam was utterly beside himself. "…What?"

"The Transformer," Dean clarified. "It's Megatron."

Sam was even further confounded. "What?!"

"Sam!" Alex exclaimed in exasperation.

He looked ever more confused and slightly defensive. "What!"

She smacked him on the arm. "Stop being an idiot!"

"Metatron," Cas said evenly, turning around. "He's an angel. He's the scribe of God. He took down dictation when creation was being formed. I never did meet him. I wonder what he's like…" he smiled and chuckled airily to himself.

"So… that's the Word of God?" Sam asked, eyebrows high.

"One of them, yes."

"There's more than one?" Alex asked, garnering Cas's attention once more. "Like the Ten Commandments? Was that one of these Word of God thingies?"

Cas looked at her as if she had hung the moon itself and he forgot the subject at hand. "I need to write more poems in your honor," he said in a blissful tone. "You're so beautiful, I think I could speak on the subject forever."

"How about the subject of what this thing says, Cas?" Sam prompted a tad forcefully.

Cas's enthusiasm faded slightly. "Far less interesting," he said, then looked at the stone again. "Uh… 'tree'?" He looked at his captive audience, not too bothered by his apparent inability to decipher the ancient writing on the stone. "'Horse'? 'Fiddler crab'? I can't read it. It wasn't meant for angels." He paused and smiled. "Did you know the name Alexandra means defender of mankind? It's fitting of our leading lady, isn't it? So brave and selfless, and always getting back up when she falls down." He looked extremely proud of her.

For once, one of his unsolicited comments wasn't embarrassing or inappropriate. In fact, it was kinda… nice. "Thanks, Cas," Alex said, humbled and a little flattered. She quickly cleared her throat and looked at her brothers for answers, trying to stay focused. "Where'd you guys get that thing, anyway?"

"We got it from Dick," Sam said, then rephrased himself. "Stole it, actually. Apparently all his shady deals the past few months—underwriting secret university department projects, pouring money into digs—has all been about this tablet. So, whatever it is… it's important to Leviathan."

"Okay, this all sounds bad," Meg muttered, no longer content to stand by and idly watch. "What are you two jackasses doing with the Word of God?" She uncrossed her arms and made for Cas from further across the room. "Lemme see that thing."

"Back… off, Meg," Dean said, stepping up a little to confront her.

Stopped a few steps back, dark eyes glittering unhappily, Meg's nostrils flared. "Come on, it's my ass, too."

"Back off," Dean growled, clearly ready to fight about it.

"Dammit, enough of this 'demons are second-class citizens' shit!" Meg exclaimed, voice raising to a hearty shout.

"Don't like conflict," Cas announced factually, then abruptly disappeared. The stone tablet he'd been holding plummeted to the floor, breaking into three huge chunks.

Sam stared at the broken pieces in mild shock. "Uh…!"

"What the hell was that?!" Dean demanded, very unhappy.

"You heard him," Meg said, her voice oozing with a triumphant, sarcastic tone. "He doesn't like conflict."

"He probably went to the dayroom again," Alex said tiredly, meeting Dean's impatient stare. "He doesn't like conflict and doesn't seem to have any answers for the tough questions, but… he really seems to like board games."

Dean's expression was sour and tired and impatient. "You show me where this dayroom thing is," he said to her gruffly, already heading out of the room. "Sam, will you please pick up the Word of God?"

Alex followed Dean out and watched as he marched down the hall to her left. She cleared her throat loudly. "Other way, Dean." He stopped, paused, then turned around and headed back her way, saying nothing, just foul tempered and stony like she'd predicted. Alex led the way toward the dayroom and glanced her brother's way a couple times. He was obviously still angry at her. "So you're still not talking to me?" she finally asked about ten seconds of silence in.

"Coulda used your help here recently, that's all," Dean replied flatly, his tone suggesting that he wasn't very interested in talking to her today, either.

"I've been helping," Alex pointed out.

"What, babysitting a brain-fried angel?" Dean challenged insolently.

Alex quit walking. "What is this, national be-an-asshole day?" she asked, pissed off. "I've been helping. You don't have to be such a dick." Silence and an eyeroll from him for her comments. Feeling a little petty, Alex decided to push one of his buttons. "How's Jamie?"

That two word question had immediate effect. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively, obviously on guard immediately.

"I talk to Sam sometimes," Alex replied, folding her arms and waiting for Dean's reply. But his initial response said it all: he did, in fact, have it bad.

He looked like he had never been part of a stupider conversation. "Oh my god…" he muttered, then abruptly got flustered. "You two need to get over it, I'm a grown ass man, I can do what I want and it's none of your business!"

"Well good for you," Alex replied, incredibly impressed with his level of hypocrisy—how could he tell her that and still assume to try and run her life? That was a subject for another day. "Sam says you've snuck off the past two hunts and left him hanging," she said, repeating what her twin had told her on a recent phone call.

Dean looked like he'd been set up, blinking as his eyes went wide in complete shock. "Left him ha—I didn't leave him hanging, he just spent a night or two alone without me there to tuck him in and read him bedtime stories!" he retorted, then gestured at her with a rude, flippant hand. "First him now you? I deserve something good in my life right now, don't try and take that away from me!" There was a brief, charged silence in which the siblings maybe realized they understood that about each other and couldn't really blame the other for trying to find happiness wherever they could. Dean took a second and then tried to explain it. "I'm—this past year has been complete, hopeless shit and J—" he stopped himself from saying her name. "That girl is one of the only bright spots left for me, are you really gonna try and make me feel bad about it?"

"Yes," she said, feeling vindictive and like she deserved to make a dig at him after all the crap he'd put her through. "Because you deserve to know how that shit feels."

He withered, then muttered a reply before stalking off. "Whatever, Alex."

Alex caught up to him and led the way down another hallway. "Look, all I'm gonna say is she was my friend first and if you fuck this up, I'll kick you in the nuts," she threatened stiffly.

Dean gave her a weird look and stopped walking. "What's that supposed to mean?"

What was there to interpret? Alex gave him a bitchy face that might have rivaled Sam's best. "My foot. Your junk. Lots of pain."

A little chagrined, Dean sighed. "No not that, I meant—" he drew in a breath and expelled it again tiredly. "Look. You don't have to worry. I'm not looking to do anything shady. I like her, okay? A lot." He paused and looked off, his features softening and showing that he wasn't sure how he felt about what he felt. "Like… a lot a lot. More than I was supposed to."

Intuitive to him in ways no one else might ever be, Alex studied him closely, frowning deeply. "But?"

Dean appeared hesitant and a little sad even if he tried to cover it up with a more flippant tone. "Let's just say she isn't into the idea of long term stuff. Or, well, like—she can't be into it." He chuckled briefly out of the side of his mouth in a huff of air and he sounded slightly hollow. "And I mean, I'd be crazy to think I could… that we could… I mean, have you seen the life we live and what happens to the people we l—" he caught himself, "that we care about?" Alex stared at him. Had he almost said 'love'? He kept going, giving her no chance to ask. "The only thing that lasts in this life is family, period," he said, basically implying there was no need for him to ever try and hang onto anyone else. Then he decided to turn the conversation back around to her and Cas, a predictable defense mechanism. "And your weird, unhealthy, insane thing with Cas I guess. That crazy train just won't get off the rails." He sounded so bitter about it.

Alex wanted to try. She wanted to be able to meet in the middle. But her brother made it so freaking hard. "You don't make it easy, do you?" she asked, bitter herself.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. "Oh, like you've always made it easy for me," he retorted.

And in that moment, Alex felt despisedand sidelined. Unloved by one of the people she loved most in the world. The senseless fighting and hurtful crap they'd subjected each other to so childishly was painful and unnecessary, but now Alex didn't know how to fix what had been broken between them. She just wanted Dean back—her big brother, the one who had chased away nightmares and held her hand when she was scared and put band-aids on her bruises just to make her feel marginally better when he couldn't do anything else. Tears were welling up in her eyes from the stress of the day and the uncertainty of the future. Cas, bonkers. Dean, cold and done with her. Sam, great, but Alex was sure she'd find a way to mess that up someday too.

"I hate fighting with you," she whispered abruptly, looking away and down, trying not to get out of emotional control. Her eyebrows worked in together as she struggled. "I'm just trying to do the right thing," she said, and she was and it was so hard when Dean was giving no support to her at all. "You and Sam are not the only people in my life who matter. Cas matters to me—you know he does." How else could she explain it? It wasn't fair of Dean to try and get her to stop loving Cas. She couldn't. She looked at her brother, prepared to see him glaring at her. But instead… he looked heartbroken right along with her and deeply affected by her vulnerable moment.

"Yeah, I know," Dean said quietly, sounding pretty sad about the fact. "Trust me, I know." He shifted his weight, watching her glumly as he heaved a sigh. "I hate fighting with you, too," he said, then pushed aside some visible misgivings and resentment and he closed the distance between them and hugged her tight. It was a brief hug, a shaky offer of truce, and when Dean drew back, he made sure she knew that. "Look. I am the way I am. I don't know how to be any other guy. I drink too much, I say whatever the hell pops into my mind, I ain't happy if it's not me running the show. You know what I'm like. You can't expect me to wanna jump over the moon for joy when you decide to stay with the so-called angel who ganked you. Don't get that look on your face. I sure as hell won't forget about that anytime soon. I don't get how you wanna put yourself in some potentially dangerous situation by choice."

"We're hunters," Alex pointed out. "Our whole lives are dangerous situations." Dean looked mildly annoyed that she had a good point. A tense silence held between them for a couple beats. "You don't have to be happy about me and Cas or whatever the hell this is but… shoving me out of your life and disowning me?" she asked, letting her very strong inner fears and pains show.

Dean looked utterly shocked. "I wasn't—I wasn't disowning you," he said, his tone gutted and stunned. "Al, I'd never do that—come on, you know that. Right?" When she said nothing, Dean seemed to realize just how deeply his silent treatment had hurt her. "Sorry. I didn't… I wasn't thinking like that."

Alex felt even worse though instead of better and shrugged shallowly, avoiding his gaze. "I mean… I've done it to you, I guess I deserved it," she said, realizing she was a huge-ass hypocrite, too. A total loser. Such a joke.

Dean hugged her again, but this time, it felt genuine, like he'd really wanted to do it for himself, not just for her, and Alex hugged him back, comforted by his familiarity. He squeezed, then let go, patted her on the shoulder, nodded at her, and she nodded too. A quiet truce held between them as they wordlessly continued down the hall—not at a hundred percent in their sibling relationship, but not as at odds as they had been a minute ago. "So, uh—if you talk to Sam, you know about Bobby, right?" Dean asked after a minute, making Alex's stomach clench.

"Yeah," she said, highly apprehensive. She'd forgotten about this briefly tonight after everything that had happened. She slowed to a stop, because the dayroom was just a door away. Alex swallowed thickly, looking at Dean. "Is he… he with you right now?" she asked tensely.

Dean nodded somberly and drew out Bobby's old, beat up flask. Her heart jumped at the sight of that object. "Right here," he said softly, and Alex had no words. No words on earth. Sam had told her, but it was so hard to believe that Bobby hadn't passed on through the veil. That he had become a spirit... that he was tethered to this object... that he had become the very thing he had hunted while alive. Seeing the look on his sister's face, Dean nodded, completely understanding the thoughts she was currently crushed by. "I know," he said, then pocketed the flask again.

"Just when you think things couldn't get more complicated," Alex muttered, her mind spinning. She led the way to the dayroom, too overwhelmed to talk about Bobby or think about what would happen to him eventually. She nodded toward where Cas sat at a table in the dayroom. "He's right there," she said, and then stopped Dean with a gentle, worried touch of the hand. "Take it easy, Dean. He's real skittish right now."

"Gotcha," he confirmed dubiously, then went into the room. Alex hovered at the door, worry plastered across her youthful face as Dean approached Cas slowly and cautiously. "Cas?" he asked carefully, looking at the guy closely.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said. He had his hands clasped in his lap. The table he sat at had some games piled on one end. "I thought a game would be nice right now," he said pleasantly.

Dean paused, hesitating, glancing back at Alex, who watched closely. "Yeah, uh… do you realize you just broke God's Word back there?" he asked, testing the waters.

Cas was neutral. "I've broken a lot of things," he said quietly. "By now, you probably should expect it of me."

Geez. Dean hesitated then decided the hell with it and sat down opposite of the angel. "It's Sam's thing, isn't it?" Cas did not answer—just smiled vapidly, watching Dean with a kind of creepy gaze. "You taking on his… his cage-match scars," Dean continued. "That's what broke your bank, right? Turned you into this—this—even weirder version of you."

A small, slow grin showed on Cas's face. "Well, it took... everything to get me here."

"To get you where?" Dean asked, face twisting in impatient confusion. "What are you talking about, man?"

"Reality," Cas replied candidly, looking around the room as he breathed in a deep, content breath. "Existence. 'This our mortal life,' to borrow from Dante."

Dean didn't follow. "Huh?"

"Dean…" Cas intoned calmly, peacefully, giving the impression that he was about to say something of importance. "I know you want different answers."

"Well you're not giving me any answers, Cas," Dean said, his tone much rougher and more assertive than Cas's. "Buddy, I get it. You're one sandwich short of a picnic, but what I really want is for you to button up your coat and help us take down Leviathans—the Leviathans that you put here."

The angel reacted to that. "Don't like them," Cas said darkly, his jaw clenching as he looked away.

"Well goddamn, I don't either, trust me!" Dean insisted emphatically, leaning over the table for emphasis. When Cas said nothing and didn't look back at him, Dean sat back slightly, his anger making him short. "You remember what you did?" Cas contemplated Dean thoughtfully, that infuriatingly little smile on his face as Dean watched him pick up the board game that was on top of the stack. Cas showed Dean the front of the box. It was the game Sorry!

Dean stared incredulously, then Cas shook the box and the board and pieces appeared on the table, set up and ready to play. Cas set the box aside. "Do you want to go first?" Cas asked, by all appearances playful and friendly.

Dean hated board games. But he gritted his teeth and dug in. "Sure, Cas," he said, forcing himself to be patient. "I'll go first." He glanced up at his sister who still watched. She was biting her thumbnail and watching as Dean picked up a card from the deck to see what move he was supposed to make.

Cas turned and followed Dean's brief gaze, and smiled as he gaze at Alex. "She's so pretty," he said quietly. He turned back to Dean and looked at him significantly "Sometimes I forget how pretty and look over and she takes my breath away." He paused, lifting a Sorry! card out of the deck to take his turn. "Metaphorically, of course. The sight of your sister doesn't asphyxiate me."

Dean watched Cas move a piece, so done with this day. "Glad you cleared that one up for me, Cas," he said, picking up another card and glancing at it apathetically.

"I remember so much, Dean," Cas said wistfully, moving one of his pieces leisurely then gesturing for Dean to pick another card. "The dawn of time. The creation of the world. The first steps of evolution." He rambled on and on, alienating Dean further and further. "I remember it like it was yesterday. You know, we weren't sure at first which monkeys were gonna make it. No offense, but I was backing the Neanderthals because their poetry was... just amazing. It's in perfect tune with the spheres." Dean looked at Cas like he was nuts. "But in the end, it was you—the homo sapiens. You guys ate the apple, invented pants. It led to everything." He paused and looked at Dean, then back over his shoulder at Alex. "It led to her. The center of my universe. The breath in my lungs."

Dean picked up a card with more gusto than necessary. Much more of this subject matter and Cas would be back to revealing uncomfortable hookup details again. "Okay, Romeo, you're—you're kinda making me uncomfortable here," he said, pulling a face. "Can we do poetry corner later? We gotta find this Metatron guy. Is he still alive? Any idea where we can find him?"

Cas winced, pointing at the board. "I'm sorry. I—I think you have to go back to start."

Dean looked at the angel incredulously. He was totally for real, and Dean was getting real annoyed real quick. He took the piece Cas had pointed to and moved it back to start, setting it down hard. "This is important," he said, trying to keep his cool.

"Yes, I know, pick up the card," Cas said, then motioned for Dean to choose another card.

Dean did, but he was really starting to lose his patience for this. He read his card, slammed it down, moved the damn piece two spaces, then looked at Cas pointedly, his tone suggesting that Cas really needed to start cooperating. "I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad," he said. "You understand that?"

"Bad…" Cas repeated almost fondly. "What an interesting concept. Bad isn't a point of view. Some people say it is but I see now that things are very black and white. There is good. And there is bad." He picked up a Sorry! card and held it out as if to make a point. "We live in a sorry universe, Dean. It's engineered to create conflict, it's made so that any choice you make is the wrong one. I mean, why should I prosper from... your misfortune?" He moved a game piece onto Dean's space, then moved Dean's piece back to start, and he looked mildly regretful about doing so. "But these are the rules. I didn't make them."

Dean was really starting to see red as he thought about everything Cas had done and now how the angel so conveniently wanted to just shirk responsibility for what he'd caused to happen. "You made some of them," Dean insisted tightly. "When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall and thought you could handle it all on your own, when you thought secrets and lies were kosher."

"Dean…" Cas said, and Dean thought he was about to say something important. And then the angel leaned forward and very somberly said… "it's your move."

Dean lost it. He snapped, pounded his fist on the table hard and knocked the board and game pieces and cards in a flurry to the floor. "Forget the damn game!" he shouted. Cas flinched and drew his shoulders up near his ears, he bowed his head down like a child who had just been yelled at.

"Dean." His sister had come a few steps into the room and was warning him, telling him to calm it down or she was going to intervene.

Dean regulated himself a little, regretting the outburst. "Forget the game, Cas," he repeated, softer this time.

The angel looked at him, and by all appearances, he was very sincere. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"No," Dean replied, his voice breaking a little with emotion. "You're playing 'Sorry!' Man up, Cas!" he exclaimed. "You can't just do what you did then walk away and pretend it never happened! It happened! To me, to her, to my family! To you! Do you not remember, or do you not care? Come on, man, don't BS me."

Cas looked down, considering for a second, then he nodded and sighed. "If you don't want to play the game, Dean, I understand," he said, and stood up, leaving Dean to watch him with an aghast expression. "I'll put it away." Cas began to slowly, carefully gather the pieces and cards off the floor and ignore Dean while doing so.

Dean got up after a few stumped seconds and retreated to where his sister stood.

She looked pretty sad. "Is he for real?" Dean asked as they both watched the angel tidy up the mess the hunter had made.

"Dunno," she murmured, and it was easy to hear how hopeless she felt. "I think so."

"So what, he's… he's just gonna be cuckoo for cocoa puffs for the rest of his existence?" Dean asked, not sure how that would affect things.

Alex shrugged, her eyes still on Cas. "I mean… I don't know." She paused and looked at Dean fully. "This thing was killing Sam." Her eyes went back to the angel. "And it… took Cas. Or, took part of him. He's like a big kid. A big kid who wants to avoid the elephant in the room."

Cas plucked a shiny blue piece off the floor and smiled at it. "Did you know an elephant is pregnant for twenty-two months?" he asked them. "It's the longest pregnancy of any land animal. I imagine it's very miserable for the mother to be gestating for such a lengthy amount of time."

Alex watched him with eyes that betrayed her inner pain. She tried a smile, but it was easy to see how sad she was. "He's just full of animal facts these days," she said softly, brokenly, trying to make a joking comment about her clear, inner pain.

"Yeah I'm starting to get that," Dean replied quietly, and true empathy came over his face. This had to be a damn tough pill to swallow. "Sorry, Al," he said. And he was. Mostly that she was having to feel so much pain on top of pain on top of pain.

She nodded stiffly. "I've lost him so many times," she whispered. "It's like some cruel joke." She paused, her eyes falling downward. "And I'm the punchline." She swallowed the sour note she was tasting and went to Cas and crouched down, helping him pick up the game. Dean watched them with folded arms, noticing how Cas gave Alex a soft little smile. Even now, Cas seemed to react and respond better to her than anyone else. He guessed it figured.

Castiel abruptly stopped picking up cards as he looked upward, a strange, wondrous expression on his face. Alex stopped too, a handful of cards forgotten in her hand. "Cas? What is it?"

A little smile was growing on his face. "Sam," he said, his eyes brightening. "He's talking to angels." And without another word, he disappeared from sight alone.