The first thing Dean does the next morning, is making sure that Cas is still there. He finds him in the kitchen together with Sam, who gets up early, even on his non-running mornings. Sam barely acknowledges him from behind some fancy newspaper, but Cas smiles and greets him a good morning. Dean can't help but to return the smile and the sentiment.
Yeah, it's a damn good morning when Cas is still here.
Dean can feel Cas's eyes on his back for the half minute it takes to pour a cup of coffee. It's creepy, it's annoying, and it's goddamn amazing.
Last night, Dean's head had been spinning while he brushed his teeth and got ready for bed. He had told Cas that they are fine, and they are. Still, it's a new situation for him; to be around someone that he knows has feelings for him. Dean has never stayed long enough with anyone for things to get to this point. But Cas is cool about it, so Dean will be cool about it too. No way is he going to let Cas leave again.
Dean feels a bit self-conscious when he turns around and stares back. Cas has stared at him since they met but it holds a completely new meaning now. To know how Cas feels, and what he carries behind those eyes. It's a lot, and Dean both values it and hates it, because he doesn't have anything to give back.
After who-knows-how-long, Cas looks away, down into his coffee cup. Dean keeps studying him, still trying to come to terms with everything.
Cas looks exactly like the day he left. Maybe a little bit better. They had been under a lot of pressure to bring God himself down. They had been hunters but had also been hunted. The physical battle had been nothing compared to the mental strain. Knowing that Chuck was constantly watching them, moving them around like pawns. Cas had kept believing in them, but Dean… Well, it hadn't been their best days. But it's over now, and all the stress seems to have left Cas. He looks relaxed and… happy. Maybe the stress was not just from hunting Chuck. Maybe it was also from keeping his feelings inside.
It takes a poorly hidden snort from his brother to pull Dean out of his own head and look away from Cas. He just catches Sam looking away from him. Dean clears his throat, willing away the blush he feels forming from being caught staring. "What's so funny?"
Sam tries to feign innocence but fails miserably. "Ah-ha, uhm, nothing. Just an article in the paper."
"About what?" Dean pushes.
"Business." Sam turns a couple of pages, clearly to prevent Dean from walking over their and reading the article.
"Business, huh?" Dean knows his brother is lying but it's too early to care. He just takes another sip of his coffee.
Ignoring the mop of hair behind the newspaper, Dean steals a look back at Cas. Cas is looking right back, and it's starting to feel a bit awkward. Dean clears his throat. "So, breakfast? What do you want?"
"You're letting Cas choose breakfast? You never ask me what I want." Sam asks with a forced neutral face.
"Dude just came back from the Empty, discovered food, and eats real bacon." Dean counts his three arguments on one finger at a time before turning an accusatory finger at his brother. "You eat rabbit food. No heat, no grease, no love. Hell no, you don't get to choose breakfast."
Dean expects his brother to tease back, but instead Sam just smiles knowingly. "Whatever you say. So, what's it gonna be, Cas?"
This is all kinds of wrong, and Dean doesn't like it. But when Cas carefully asks if they can have pancakes with maple sirup again, Dean shakes it off and gets cooking.
-.-.-.-
Dean waits impatiently for Sam to leave the breakfast table to go skype with Eileen. He knows Sam is just happy to have Cas back too, but Dean would really like for him to stop making conversation. Dean has something he wants to show Cas, and he doesn't want Sam to know. Well, of course Sam already knows about it, but there's no reason to acknowledge that.
Finally, Sam excuses himself and leaves for his room. Dean knows that Sam's mind is occupied elsewhere now, so the moment he is out of the kitchen, Dean clears the plates of the table. He leaves them in the sink for now.
"Hey." Dean says to get Cas's attention, and Cas answers by looking up with a small smile. "Come on, I wanna show you something."
Without waiting for Cas to answer, Dean leaves the kitchen. As expected, Cas's footsteps constitute a comforting rhythm behind him as they move through the bunker. Those fancy dress shoes give off a completely different sound than Sam's and Dean's boots.
Cas doesn't question him, just follows in pleasant silence.
They enter the garage and Dean leads them towards the back. Cas only slows down for a second when they pass Baby, as if expecting Dean to have stopped there. Or maybe he's just happy to see her again. But Dean aims for the very back. He tells himself that he placed it in the back because is it doesn't fit in among the classic cars. Truth is, it stands in the back because when Dean comes down here to work on his issues, he doesn't need an audience.
Cas stops as soon as he lays eyes on the truck. "Dean? What is this?"
"Don't recognise her?" Dean tries to play it cool, but he can't quell the butterflies in his stomach. "I know I fixed her up a bit, but she still needs a lot of TLC to become unrecognisable."
"It's the truck I drove years ago?" Cas tilts his head in question. "Why is it here?"
Yeah, that's the real question, isn't it? "Well, with Chuck out of the way, monsters seemed to slow down a bit. Without a writer to keep sending them our way, we finally got a bit of free time, you know? So, I needed something to keep me busy. Of course I have Baby, but my girl's so fine she's low maintenance, right? So, I figured why not get a truck, you know, something different, and then I thought about this truck, and…" Okay, it's time to stop, but Dean's mouth doesn't get the message. "I mean, I tried looking for your Pimpmobile for a while, but couldn't trace it down. Not much to do to safe that monstrosity anyway. But your truck was just standing at a scrap yard. Don't know why the owner didn't come looking for it. Must have been towed from that house you rented for Kelly-"
"Dean, stop." Cas finally interrupts Dean's rambling. Dean looks up at him, and Cas is smiling. He's maybe even tearing up a little bit. "Thank you. This is really nice of you."
"Nah… Just a car, man." Dean looks away.
"It never is 'just a car' with you." Cas says knowingly.
And no, it's not. This truck isn't Baby. Baby was his dad's, his safe space, his home. She has been his therapy whenever he needed to work with his hands to work through his head.
So, when Cas was gone, and Sam left to spend some time with Eileen, and everything was too quiet, Dean's fingers had been itching for something to work on. And it couldn't just be anything. It had to be something that reminded him of Cas. So every time he got angry with Cas, he had something to hit. Every time he felt sorry for getting angry with Cas, he had something to fix. Every time he needed to show Cas that he was doing good, he had something to maintain. And every time he needed to talk to Cas, he could go for a ride. Nothing fits the bill better than the truck Cas drove just before the second time he died.
"Right." Is all Dean can say to voice all those thoughts. "Well, now that you're going to hang around, you have something to drive. She needs an oil change, though. Still haven't gotten her engine completely under control."
"She… has a bit of a temper." Cas tries carefully.
"Yeah, and her gear is a little tricky." Dean starts relaxing, caressing the hood. "A fresh paint job would be good too."
"There's plenty of time for that." Cas smiles. "But I would appreciate if you could help me with all those things. You remember how helpless I was the last time she broke down."
"Of course, buddy. And now that you are staying, you should learn some of these things. I can show you the oil change."
"Really?" Cas looks slightly nervous.
"Sure. I have everything we need. Let's do this." Dean slaps Cas on the shoulder and goes looking for the oil. "Drop the layers and roll up those sleeves. I'm about to put you to work."
"Dean, uhm…" Cas plays with his coat sleeves.
"What?" Dean stops on his way to the supply cabinet. Cas doesn't continue, so Dean decides to encourage the nervous angel. "Don't worry, buddy. You've got this."
Cas sends him a small smile and starts pulling off the trench coat.
The oil change takes ten times the time that it would have if Dean had just done it himself. He tries to teach Cas all the parts of the engine; what it is, what it does, how it all connects. He lets Cas perform the actual change with Dean just pointing and guiding. Cas fumbles a bit and keeps looking to Dean for approval. Dean feels a bit nostalgic, remembering how he had looked at his dad the same way, and how Sam had later looked at him.
But despite the slow pace, the drink breaks, and the teaching, they manage to change the oil and tweak a few things in the engine, and when they are done, the truck is almost purring like a kitten.
Cas steps away from the vehicle with a smile. "That was surprisingly rewarding. I understand why you enjoy this so much."
"Nothing like a bit of grease under the nails to make you feel human." Dean takes a drag from his beer.
"I don't know about human." Cas says. "But then again, I didn't just get the oil under my nails."
Cas spreads his arms, and Dean is surprised he didn't notice the way Cas's shirt has slowly been painted with black, oily spots and stripes.
"Damn, Cas. I'm not sure that shirt will ever be a shirt again." Dean laughs. God, Cas might not feel human, but he damn well looks it right now in a dirty shirt and rolled up sleeves.
"I can clean it with my grace." Cas states.
"Sure, you can do that. Or…" This might be the girliest idea Dean has ever had. "Or we can go get you a new one."
"A new shirt?" Cas almost looks like the concept is foreign to him.
"Yeah, you know. Go shopping. Maybe you can get some other stuff too, like a couple of T-shirts or something. If you're going to stay on Earth, you should get some stuff of your own. Maybe some things to make your room look more like an actual room."
"I would like that." Cas smiles gratefully.
"Good." Dean nods. "Good, let's do that tomorrow, then. For now, I'm gonna hit the showers. You do whatever grace-cleaning you've got up your sleeve."
Cas is clean before Dean can even turn away.