In normal circumstances, Dean Winchester was pretty damn observant. He wasn't one to compliment himself - ever - but even he could admit that.
Which was why it said something that he took a good fifteen minutes to notice the glint of a silver key ring hanging and jingling brightly from one belt loop of Samantha's skirt (and that was something he never thought he'd think, but there they were). He was surprisingly unsurprised to see it hanging there - largely because he could just hear Charlie's explanation (something about simulating a cowbell or another ridiculous idea she and Cas had cooked up) - and substantially more surprised that it had taken him so long to see the thing. (Which had absolutely nothing to do with Cas still flopped against him quite calmly, much less him not wanting to wake Cas up… no connection whatsoever.)
But… well… his arm had fallen asleep - that awful sensation of pins and needles shooting up and down his arm - and he couldn't maintain that very much longer, so he would just have to be quiet. Er, get the keys back. That was the important bit. Who cared about noise? Would serve them right for locking him up and falling asleep again. Obviously. He should be very, very loud. Which was, of course, unconnected with the way he hissed out, "Psst, Samantha."
He could just hear Cas taking it as a victory, as proof that he thought cows could talk - they don't, Cas, they just don't - but it absolutely did not cause him to smile fondly. As if on cue, Cas shifted in his sleep, snuffling ador- annoyingly and pushing his face further between Dean's shoulder and the couch behind them. (Zero effect. None. Whatsoever. Shut it.)
Time for take two. "Samantha. C'mere."
That time, she actually looked over at him from her side of the couch, straightening - very, very awkwardly and almost plunging to the floor again - to a vaguely standing position and walking closer, closer, and… stopping. Just out of reach. With the cow equivalent of an eyebrow being raised. (Which absolutely did not make Dean think of Cas. Of course not.)
"C'mon, girl, get over here." It was odd talking to her when they were alone, pulling out that voice he'd always used for Sammy and practically cooing at her. (Yes, he was very, very glad no one was around to see it… but not for any particular reason, of course).
It took too many minutes worth of talking (not pleading. Or cajoling. Or begging. Nope. Talking) to get her to trot towards him. From there it was decently easy to relieve her of the keys and finally, finally unlock those damn handcuffs. (He didn't remain seated so as not to wake Cas, of course. He just needed time to restore his circulation.)
Of course, if he were staying seated for Cas' sake - not that he was, but if - that would fail as soon as Samantha decided she didn't want to move around normally and instead flopped down beside him, hoofs scraping very loudly against the wood as she tucked her legs under her and pushed her nose against his hand. (He did go ahead and give her pets… but that was just because he didn't know what else to do. He didn't care. Nope. Not at all.)
And of course the noise woke up Charlie, who shot upright with a, "Damn, you escaped!"
Which… okay, first off, weird, but second of all - not that it had anything to do with still-sleeping Cas - "Charlie, shut it, I swear-"
Obviously, it was too little, too late, because Cas was sitting up in seconds, actually outright glaring at the cow - well, it was more of a pout… glare was too harsh a word. Not that Dean cared. - and letting out a reproachful, "Samantha, how could you?"
Dean immediately shifted away from Cas (because, honestly, it was kinda creepy to let your roommate sleep on your shoulder, right?) under the guise - not that he needed a guise since Cas would probably prefer the distance anyway… wait, probably? No, definitely. - of shaking out his still-asleep wrist. "Uh… Didn't realize it was such a goal. Y'all were killing my wrist."
Charlie shook her head, snorting. "When taken prisoner, you shouldn't attempt to escape, Dean. It's an unspoken rule."
"That's… that's really not how it works-" The subsequent glare came from two quarters and was heated enough that he changed tactics. "And now it's my fault that she let me out?
Charlie nodded. "Ye-"
And then Cas interrupted with a too-devastated, "No." He looked half speechless, but he still managed, "She… she learned a trick. Without me."
Dean… did not feel guilty. At all. Not one bit. He still had to reassure Cas, though, so… "Hardly. All she did was walk a few steps this way, Cas."
And… apparently catch-22 was the name of the game because Cas started glaring at him for that, too, and gesturing towards the freshly undone cuffs with something like a threat in the motion. "She did amazing." At least the dejected look was gone, replaced by a smile (not that Dean was happy to see that at all) and pets for the cow. "Good girl."
"You're ridiculous, Cas." No, Dean would not call that fond, and anyone who did was seeing things. Er, hearing things. Whatever; they were making shit up was the point. Moving on. "You'd think she invented the wheel or some shit."
Cas frowned. "Cows don't need wheels, Dean. They walk."
Dean nodded. Then he shook his head. Then he nodded. "Y-yeah, I kno-I know, Cas… it's an express-" This was going nowhere. "Never mind."
And then, in a split-second, that damn devastation was back, Cas' face shattering into a look of complete disappointment. "My God… I'm a terrible cow father."
"Hardly, Cas, but what's the issue this time?" (There was absolutely nothing of importance there. Nothing whatsoever. Certainly not Dean being ridiculously idiotic to cheer up his roommate. Of course not, he'd never do such a thing."
Cas' frown deepened. "I missed her first trick."
And that was just so very Cas that Dean had to stifle a gri- er, a smile. At best. More of a flat grimace, really. No smile. At all. And then he remembered that, oh, yeah, he should probably do something about that frown - not for any specific reason… just that, well, they were roommates and it was only polite - and set about talking Cas down again. "Buddy, it wasn't a trick. She took two freaking steps."
Cas… was Cas seriously about to cry over this? His eyes looked suspiciously watery, fingers picking at his coat. "She gave you the keys, Dean. She… she knew what she was doing."
Well, at least he could explain that one. "I took the keys off her belt, Cas. She had literally zero clue what was happening." A pause, then, "That was a weird-ass place to put them… just saying."
Charlie shrugged. "They jingled as she walked. And I forgot a cowbell." For a second, Dean felt a flare of satisfaction that hah, he knew why they were there. Then it occurred to him that being able to read the minds of two people so close to insanity probably boded ill for his mental state… but eh, who cared?
Cas was still staring at the keys, though, and there was no time for questions of sanity when he was looking like some eager new dad who'd missed his kid's first steps - oh, shit, Cas and his "cow father" shit really had invaded, hadn't it? (It, not he, not Cas, because they were just roommates, thanks) - which meant he pretty much had to do something.
And desperate times called for desperate measures.
So, prepared to instantly regret it, he started to speak. "It wasn't a trick, Cas-" And of course Cas would try to interrupt even though it really wasn't a good idea for him to do so, so of course Dean kept speaking (and, naturally, he felt not at all bad about it. At all. Why would he?) "But-" And, oh, shit, he was really saying it, wasn't he? "You could always teach her some." Yup, shit, shit, shit, he had. (Not that such ridiculousness meant anything whatsoever beyond cheering up his roommate. Nothing. At all.)
He did indeed instantly regret it, the second Charlie started squealing and jumping in place. (The exasperation that caused was not at all minimized by Cas' grin because Cas grinning had no effect on Dean at all, whatsoever, zip, nada, none.) Instead, he very quickly found himself wondering if beer was on sale because damn he was gonna need it.
