Cas sits at the library table, tilting his head towards the other room, where he can hear Dean pacing around, mumbling to himself in an aggravated tone. "Sam," he says. "What is going on?"
Sam looks up, peering around the corner towards where his brother's agitated whispers are audible. He smirks and shakes his head, turning to look back at Cas. "It's nothing," he says slowly. When he realizes that's done nothing to console Cas, he clears his throat and sits up straighter, pushing his laptop back a bit. "Well, uh, Dean's gotten back into wrestling lately, you know?"
Cas thinks a moment. "That scripted fighting that he used to watch," he says slowly.
"Yeah," Sam says. "Well, he was looking forward to a match that was being held tonight, and the guy he was rooting for lost unexpectedly. Something to do with an injury, I guess. Dean didn't take it well, so he's just letting off some steam." He shrugs, lips quirking up slightly. "Just be glad it's not the three of us trapped in a hotel room, things have been a lot worse in the past. He'll be alright by morning."
Cas still doesn't like listening to Dean upset in the other room, but it doesn't last long as he walks out of the room, each step loud and agitated as he walks past them, grabbing his jacket and heading outside. Gone out to get some air, Cas figures, which may help sooth his nerves, but he doesn't like thinking about Dean still being alone while in this mood. "I'll be back, Sam," he says, getting to his feet and heading after Dean.
Sam glances up, then shrugs. "Alright, Cas," he mumbles, pushing Cas' book towards him to double check on some research he's trying to verify.
Cas spots Dean standing by the steps of the bunker, looking up at the stars, and he finds some comfort in the fact that he isn't pacing back and forth rapidly anymore. He quietly walks up behind him, waiting to be noticed.
It doesn't take long before Dean sighs out, "Hey, Cas."
"Hello, Dean," Cas says softly. "Do you mind my company? I can go back in if you want."
"Nah, you're fine," Dean responds after a moment. When Cas steps closer, Dean's fingers graze his hand and draw him in so they're standing shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the dark night sky.
"It's a nice night," Cas tries after a moment, and Dean shrugs listlessly. Cas searches the night sky, looking for the answers that used to hover within the constellations and galaxies and are now beyond his sight. "Sam told me..." He breathes in deeply. "Sam told me that you were agitated because of something that happened in wrestling."
Dean flinches and Cas thinks for a moment that he has mistepped, but then Dean shakes his head, huffing out softly. "No, well. Not entirely," he sighs, running a shaking hand through his hair. "Uh, well. I always loved wrestling, you know? The action, the storylines. But between apocalypses and Chuck, and... and everything," he says, eyes flickering towards Cas, then back at the stars. "I stopped paying attention to all of it. Wrestling and Dr. Sexy and just... nothing really seemed to matter except stopping them. Once we got you back," he says softly, his voice thick, each word a struggle. He clears his throat. "Once we got you back, I thought I could get back into it. All of the stupid soap operas, the wrestling, the horror movies, just... everything I used to enjoy."
Now Dean is starting to get agitated, shuffling around anxiously, messing his hair up with his hand. "But even without Chuck, even with things at some general level of peace in the supernatural world, I... I can't do it," he says, lips starting to tremble. "I watch something, I get invested in it, something happens that pisses me off or makes me feel bad, and it's like... what the hell am I doing? There are still people suffering around the world, and here I am feeling like shit because a TV show didn't go the way I wanted? Really." He grunts. "It all feels so... petty and unimportant. I feel... I sound ridiculous."
He begins pacing back and forth in front of Cas, unaware of how much closer Cas has inched while he talked, until Cas touches him. "Dean," Cas says softly, guiding Dean back towards him. "You're entitled to your feelings, no matter what they're about. You've... you've fought your entire life to save people, you can take a couple hours here and there and lose yourself in an imaginary scenario, for the good and bad. People all over the world do it, have done it, and will continue to do it for millennia to come. You wouldn't expect them to stop, no matter how grim and tragic situations around the world are, would you?"
"Well, no," Dean says, looking at him with a frown. "Of course not, but it's different-"
"It actually isn't," Cas says, shaking his head. "You are allowed to feel sad, or disappointed, or frustrated, even if it's over something that feels minor. Same as every other person, it is a very human thing. Would you expect Sam or I to feel guilty for our emotional response towards any situation we may find ourselves in?"
"Of course not," Dean mumbles, aimlessly tugging at Cas' trench coat's sleeve. He looks like he wants to say more, but Cas quickly shatters that thought with his next words.
"Likewise, none of us expect it of you," Cas tells him. "You're allowed to feel frustrated and disappointed when a favorite unexpectedly loses or gets hurt. Empathy for another human, feeling for their struggles and their successes, even if they are fictional, has been the backbone of creativity for nearly as far back as I can remember. it is nothing to be ashamed of." He lightly presses on Dean's jaw, making him look at him. "Alright?"
Dean exhales, shrugging as his lips twitch up faintly. "Alright," he mumbles., valiantly struggling to listen to him, let go of the swirling discomfort of feeling this much over this situation. "Thanks, Cas." He presses his forehead to Cas' for a minute, breathing in. "Not a great night."
Cas hums, wrapping his arms around Dean and hugging him steadily, rubbing soothingly up and down Dean's spine. "Do you want to go inside?"
"No," Dean sighs. "Wanna stay out here and watch the stars with me for awhile, Cas?"
"I'd love to," Cas says with a smile, pleased as Dean slowly turns in his arms and peers up at the inky black sky overhead, the small twinkling lights enamoring both of them.
The next week, Cas observes as Dean tenses up, Wednesday coming closer and closer, the wrestling show that had made him spiral so hard the before about to begin. He ponders staying with him, but thinks perhaps Dean could use a breather so he can experience it all without discomfort over being watched, for however he ends up feeling regarding whatever may come, so he retreats to their bedroom with a book and settles in against the pillows, comfortable and listening just in case Dean needs him.
The night passes quietly and he's about half way through the book when their bedroom door is pushed open, Dean slowly padding up to the bed and settling in next to him, content to fiddle with the blankets for a few minutes. Cas curls an arm around him, finishing reading the chapter before pressing his bookmark in place and setting it aside.
Cas quietly holds Dean until he peers up and they smile at each other. "How was it?" Cas wonders, examining his face curiously.
"Good," Dean sighs, tucking his face under Cas' jaw. "Guy was uncertain he'd be able to compete again after last week, but his coach/friend came out and convinced him to accept an open challenge, guess it was the kick in the ass the guy needed."
Cas hums and soothes a hand up and down Dean's arm. "I'm glad to hear it," he says as Dean presses in closer to him.
"Hey, Cas?" Dean mumbles.
"Yes, Dean?"
"Thanks for being my kick in the ass when I'm having an off night."
Cas chuckles softly and kisses his forehead. "Whenever you need it, Dean," he promises. They lay quietly for a few moments and Cas says, "Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time wrestling's on, maybe we could watch it together," he suggests quietly. "If you'd like that."
Dean sits up enough to look Cas in the eye, his searching gaze turning soft, pleased. "Yeah," he agrees. "I really would."
Cas smiles at him, before a tinge of doubt crosses his face. "It... um, it's not like the pizza man, is it?"
Dean barks out a laugh and tucks back into Cas' side. "Nah," he says softly, lacing their fingers back together with a yawn. "It's not like the pizza man, don't worry."
