So, just a small warning that there's spoilers for Fight Club in this chapter, though really who doesn't know the ending already? Just in case, here you go.

(BLD)

Sam stepped outside from the mail room, where he'd been sent to after things had been taken care of in Micheal's office. It was a small break room, just for the mail room employees, and it featured a couch, a table and five chairs that surrounded it. There was a drink and snack machine in one corner, and a sink below some cabinets along with a microwave in another corner. He took a seat at one of the chairs and pulled out his phone. "Let's get to the bottom of this." he mumbled as he pressed the speed dial button for Dean.

It actually rang for a while, surprisingly. Either Dean was busy, or he was actually ignoring him. "Come on, Dude." Sam groaned, leaning back in the chair. Eventually it went to voice mail, and Sam sighed, about to leave a message when he received a text.

"What"

"Are you fucking serious..." Sam growled to himself as he realized Dean wasn't going to speak to him, but would rather talk through text instead. "Why is Castiel at the house?" he asked, typing rapidly, pressing harder than necessary on the screen.

It was a while before Dean replied, "He's showing me his poems"

Sam's brows raised, because for a second he thought that was some sort of innuendo. He then shook his head and sent Dean a more important message, "Michael told me their father was going through hallucinations this morning and that they'll be getting worse through out the day. Make him stay as long as possible so he doesn't have to go home." He wasn't sure if Castiel wanted to stay away from home while his father languished at their house, but he knew he didn't like being around his dad when he was on a tangent. He hoped this would help him out in some way, so he didn't feel like he needed to find something else to do to stay away from it.

Sam waited ten minutes and never got a response. He decided what ever they were doing was fine, and he was just going to go about his day. Even though that meant getting back into the mail room with Frank.

Sam sighed, slumping in his chair.

Dean had gone through several poems in the finished file and was impressed, mostly because he knew he could never write anything like that. He loved his poems about the rain, and actually wondered why there were so many of them.

"You sure do love the rain, huh?" he looked to Castiel with a grin. He was over near the TV, looking through the DVD collection. He'd started a little pile on the couch of the ones he hadn't seen, as instructed by Dean.

Castiel smiled to himself, "I guess you could say that. Actually, in Seattle-" but before Castiel could explain himself, a rock tune started playing from a phone, and he turned, and realized it was Dean's.

Dean quickly pulled his phone from his pocket then turned it to silent. "Sorry about that." he smiled apologetically to Castiel, then looked back at his phone, typing, presumably to send a text to who ever it was who called. "It's Sam." Dean told him, then set his phone down on the coffee table. "What movies did you pick out?" he asked, setting the laptop on the table along with his phone.

Castiel went to his pile and began reading off the titles, "13 Ghosts, Seven, American Psycho, Fight Club-" "Wait," Dean interrupted, looking straight to Castiel, "You haven't seen Fight Club?" he asked, clearly incredulous.

"Well I wouldn't have put it in the pile if I hadn't." he told him simply, looking at the rest of the stack.

"We have to watch that now." He spoke, getting up from his chair and going for the remote on the other side of the living room. He then began turning devices on, setting up the DVD player.

"Is it that good?" Castiel wondered, mostly to himself as he looked at the DVD's box. Brad Pitt and Edward Norton seemed like an odd pairing when it came to action movies. He remembered really enjoying American History X, but it was more of a drama than an action. He then tried to remember if there were any other movies with Edward Norton that were action movies. Then he asked aloud, "What other action movies has Edward Norton been in?"

Dean grabbed the box from Cas's hands then went to the DVD player to pop it in, "Death to Smoochy."

Castiel broke out in surprised laughter, "Oh my God…."

"Wasn't Primal Fear an action movie?" Dean mused as he used the remote to go through the settings.

"No, it was more of a thriller." Castiel muttered as he took a seat on the couch.

"Wasn't he in that Bourne Legacy movie?" Dean asked, looking back to Castiel for a moment, then taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

"Oh, I don't know, I don't watch those kinds of movies." Castiel waved a hand dismissively.

"Wasn't he also in Pride and Glory?" Dean asked, getting them to the movie's menu screen.

"Yes, but I heard it wasn't very good." Castiel mentioned, leaning in the couch comfortably.

Then Dean just stopped and grinned at Castiel.

Castiel raised a brow, "What?"

"Maybe you would've seen more of these movies if you'd give them a chance." he accused Castiel.

Castiel scoffed, "I only watch movies that are worth my time." Castiel told him, half joking, with a smirk.

Dean chuckled, "Oh, I see. So if I changed Fight Club to a Larry the Cable Guy movie, you wouldn't stay and watch it with me?" he challenged.

Castiel made a face, as if to say, 'You're not being serious…'. He probably would stay, though he wouldn't enjoy it. He knew the man was some form of comedian, and he'd even heard a few of his jokes, but he knew there was no way he could sit through his whole set, much less a movie.

Dean laughed, "I don't think I could even watch that crap anymore."

"Anymore?" Castiel was surprised.

Dean shook his head with shame, "Yea, at one point in time I wore the hat with the fishing hook and all that shit." he mumbled, not wanting to dwell on it.

Castiel chuckled, "We've all had our moments." he then shifted in his seat, "Go ahead and start the movie, I'm ready." he told Dean.

So Dean started the movie for Castiel, somewhat paying attention to the movie himself, but some time after thirty minutes, his mind began to wander. So, he picked back up Castiel's laptop and began to read more. Many of them were nature inspired, but then there were some that he knew came from Castiel's heart, ones about how he felt something. He liked those the best. But one really struck him, as he was digging through the file of his unfinished works.

Soft and warm, our lives begin. But with a new, the experienced has passed to make way. Things are slow to grow, just beginning. Small hands, small face.

Having grown strong, everything is fast and young. Careless and chaotic, hot and wild. So eager to grow up, yet hoping it lasts forever.

But, after having had the fun of youth, we simmer. We cool. Our minds are wiser with the experience we didn't expect, yet willing to go through even more, to learn. To expand.

Then, once we've passed our youth, it's time for the end. In some ways knowing this, we find peace in our accomplishments and having met our goals. The winds have calmed, the waters have stilled. There's silence in our minds as we calmly go. Our cool has turned to cold, the light has gone out. But like the passing of the torch, this end is just another beginning.

The subject was about life and death, but the undertone was the changing of the seasons. Something told Dean that this poem was written in response to something, possibly his father's diagnosis. He checked the details of the document and saw that it had actually been written quite some time ago. Perhaps he should remind Castiel of this poem, and maybe it would resonate with him in some way.

The movie went on, and Dean watched Castiel's expression as the twist of the movie was revealed and the outright "What…?" he mumbled, confused. "So, Brad Pitt is just Edward Norton's subconscious..." he seemed to not be impressed.

The credits roll and Castiel sits back, having been leaning forward. Dean grinned, "What you didn't like it?" he asked, leaning on his elbow, on the couch arm.

"I just..." he shook his head, "I was expecting something else."

"Did you think he wouldn't blow up the buildings?"

"That and a lot of other things." Castiel sighed, folding his arms over his chest.

Dean chuckled, then pulled up the unfinished poem on Castiel's laptop, "Hey, this one poem here… what was your inspiration?" he asked, handing him his laptop.

Castiel took his computer and read over which poem he'd been talking about, and his brows raised. A kind of chill ran down his spine and he was actually a little shocked. "I...don't even remember this poem." he answered honestly. What really surprised him was how closely the poem pertained to his current situation. It was eerily topical, and Castiel tried racking his brain for the inspiration.

"I wrote this a long time ago..." he slowly shook his head, "I can't say that I remember..." his eyes then squinted at it, "It does need some refinement, though." he mumbled.

"So," Dean prompted, "Do you think you'll finish it?"

Castiel began to slowly nod his head, "I think I might find some use for it. I'm not sure where I'd put it..." he thought about maybe putting it in the second poem book of his, but the theme he was trying to go for wouldn't match up with the tone of the poem.

"Have you thought about publishing the poems you don't know what to do with in The Cloud?" Dean suggested. The Cloud was a local paper that reported on local and out of state events and topics, allowing Kali to travel and be able to publish her findings with no hassle. Because The Cloud hadn't been the original paper Castiel had worked for, it wasn't an option that was out the window.

He was actually surprised by the suggestion, but in a good way. He didn't know Dean was insightful that way. He smiled at Dean, more like beamed at him, "I think I might just do that, Dean."

Dean grinned, "Good to hear." he then reached over and patted Castiel on the back, "Now you'll have something to do other than waiting to publish another book."

Castiel chuckled, and slowly realized that Dean's hand hadn't left his back. He began to smile nervously, and tried formulating something else to say, but with the longer Dean stared into his eyes, the more he lost his ability to think coherently.

Thankfully, though, someone started coming in through the front door. Finally Dean's hand left his back as he turned to look at the front door. It was Sam, and he carried a pizza box and a large smile.

"Hey guys, I brought a pizza." Sam declared, then lifted the pizza box a bit for emphasis. "I didn't know what you liked, Castiel, but it's just pepperoni and cheese." he told him with a shrug.

"That's okay, I like pepperoni and cheese." he told Sam, and he then stood up, needing to put some space between him and Dean.

Sam grinned, "Awesome." he then went to take the pizza into the kitchen, but then he noticed the look his brother was giving him.

Dean was giving him a glare, clearly indicating that he had interrupted something, but Sam only rolled his eyes. Like he was actually going to do something with Castiel. "Come eat some pizza." he told Dean, not caring about his silent threats.

With a heavy sigh, Dean sat up and followed after Sam and Castiel into the kitchen. He would have liked a little more time with Castiel alone, but he wasn't going to complain, on the count of how Sam brought them pizza. He'd forgive him this time.

Sam brought down three plates from the cabinet and set them down by the box of pizza on the counter. "So what movie were you guys watching?" Sam asked, having noticed the stack of DVDs on the couch.

"Fight Club." Castiel answered, coming to the box of pizza to grab a slice.

Sam chuckled, "What, have you not seen it?" Sam asked, opening the box for Castiel.

Castiel shook his head, "No, but I knew it was a cult classic." he grabbed only one piece then went to sit at the table. "And Dean insisted that we watch that movie first."

Sam grinned at Dean, "Dean only watches like ten different movies, and thinks they're still relevant."

"Shut up." Dean barked, glaring at Sam as he took two slices, "Cult classics are always relevant."

For a time, the three of them sat and ate pizza, and the box eventually found itself on the table, and the plates forgotten. They talked about movies and Tv shows, but at some point Dean had to use the restroom. It was as he returned that he noticed he'd left his phone in the living room and he quickly retrieved it from the coffee table. He noticed the little light blinking, indicating a received message, so he checked it.

Having read Sam's last message, he slowly dropped his arm, staring into the kitchen at Castiel. Dean felt Castiel's father's death was quickly approaching. It wouldn't be before long that he and his brothers would join the orphan club along with he and Sam, but for now he'd let Castiel enjoy the pizza. He knew that after his Dad was gone he probably wouldn't want to be doing much of anything, and probably wouldn't want to even talk to Dean himself.

"So Sam," Dean began, walking back into the kitchen as if he hadn't read his brother's message, "Cas is apparently a giant fan of The Great American Hero." he grinned, hiding the sympathetic way his eyes wandered to Castiel.

"The Greatest American Hero." Castiel corrected, looking to Dean agitatedly.

"My point exactly." Dean chuckled, sitting back down with the others.

Sam laughed and they kept joking as if everything was alright between the two families.