Chapter 5: My Favorite Book

For the next few weeks, it became their tradition. Cas would come quietly into Dean's room and settle himself into his familiar chair. He'd "watch" over Dean, until Dean was snoring softly. In those silent moments, Castiel felt at home enough to let himself drift off as well.

It wasn't the most comfortable arrangement really, but it was the only way Castiel was able to sleep for more than two hours at a time. In fact, he found that he typically slept the entire night without being disturbed. Dean didn't seem to mind, and secretly, Castiel thought he also welcomed the company.

Castiel woke with a start, one of his feet having slipped off the corner of Dean's bed and slammed into the ground. Castiel rubs his eyes gently, before looking up to look at Dean, who is apparently already awake and reading a book. Dean issmiling slightly, watching Castiel. Cas takes a quick glance at his watch.

"It's 10am?!" he exclaims, looking at Dean.

"I think that's the longest you've slept since coming here. I think it's like nine hours or something, you've been out."

Castiel rubs the back of his neck, feeling a bit sore. Standing, he stretches his arms above his head and yawns. His pajama bottoms hang low on his hips, and Castiel is aware of Dean's gaze moving up his body before looking away nervously.

"So now that we have you sleeping on a weird, but kinda normal schedule, we have to work on your eating habits" Dean says knowingly.

Castiel feels a rush of blood fill his cheeks, something that was beginning to happen very often. It was always Dean who made him feel slightly self conscious. He had never given any thought to appearances before. He had always admired beauty of course, and knew enough about humans to know that Dean fell somewhere closer to "exceptional" in the physical department. However, Castiel had no idea that he could feel so shy about his own body. The body that was Jimmy's, which was now his to care for.

"I know Dean, but it is hard to remember to eat at certain times, and it can be boring to eat alone."

Dean laughs and closes his book. He stands up and walks closer to Castiel. He lets out an exasperated sigh, but his eyes tell Castiel that he is joking as he says "See Cas, THIS is why we can't leave you here while we go on a hunt. I'll come home and you'll be dead from starvation."

Castiel laughs, mostly because this is very true. He has no idea how to cook, and he is still wearing almost all of Dean's clothing. It is his comfort blanket, he understands that much. The clothing smells like detergent and Dean's deodorant. It is all worn in, old, but comfortable and soft. Castiel slightly hops that Dean and Sam will continue to forget to go out and buy him new clothes.

Dean motions for Cas to follow him downstairs, presumably to eat. Castiel follows, tightening the drawstring on his pants. He hadn't realized that he was so thin, and he made a mental note to take better care of his vessel. His body. It was hard to remember that sometimes, that it was something fluid and changing, that needed to be cared for.

"First Cas, we're gonna get some food in you. Then, we have a busy day ahead of us." Dean says gruffly, all business.

Castiel smiles, it was hard not to. If there had to be one human who always bossed him around, it was going to be Dean, and surprisingly it took a lot for Cas to get annoyed with this. As he follows Dean, he notices that everything in the living area had been cleared out. Clearly, someone had been busy. Sam is gone, most likely hunting with Garth. They said they would take turns, but Dean hasn't yet left for a single hunt. Castiel is secretly very glad about this, since he wasn't sure he could sleep on his own.

Dean motions again for Castiel to follow him.

"Today, you are gonna learn how to cook something for yourself!" Dean says proudly. He clearly thought that he was just the man to teach Cas.

"I wasn't aware that you were such a great chef, Dean" Castiel says, smirking a little and tilting his head to the side. He wasn't very good at joking around, but he had been trying to get better at it. He was sure he was still awkward and stilted, but Dean never made him feel bad about it.

Dean pushes on Castiel's arm a little, "haha Cas, you are funny. Now get your not-so-angel ass over here and learn a little somethin' about cooking".

Castiel couldn't understand what pleasure one could derive from cooking. He preferred to watch as Dean did it instead, but partook when he was asked. They were making omelets, and Cas tried his best to imitate exactly what Dean was was doing. He cracked his first egg into the skillet and accidentally dropped most of the shell in. Dean expertly dug out the shell bits, and let Cas try it again with a second egg.

It took twice as long to cook with Castiel. He wasn't particularly interested in doing it himself. He knew he was just playing along to humor Dean. "Does it always take this long to cook? No wonder you and Sam are often eating out at diners."

Dean laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Cas, YOU are the reason its taking so long! Here, help me chop up an onion."

Castiel obliges, and grabs the onion from Dean's hand. Their hands touch and Castiel can feel his face beginning to flush again, so he hurries to turn his head and immerse himself in the act of finding a knife in the drawer.

He starts to chop the onion slowly, and expertly. He was a bit of a perfectionist. Each slice was cut to exactly the same size as the previous one. Castiel looks up and Dean, who is watching him with amusement.

"Is there something funny here?" Castiel asks, confused.

"Oh no, just you know, you are chopping onions. It's fun to chop onions." he says, while pouring two glasses of orange juice.

Castiel nods and continues his work. He rubs his eyes a little, aware of a small stinging sensation. His eyes were wet! Castiel gasps in shock and rubs at his eyes more, trying to stop them from filling with more tears.

Dean is laughing, in fact, he is repeatedly throwing his head backwards in laughter and then leaning forward again.

"Stop, stop Cas. Don't rub your eyes, you'll make them red!" Dean says, between fits of laughter.

"I don't understand. Why am I crying?" Castiel asks, trying not to rub his eyes, but feeling slightly hurt at this bodily betrayal.

"Here, come wash your hands. Don't touch your eyes anymore. They are already really red. Its from the onions, they make your eyes water" Dean says, slightly apologetic, but apparently it was still worth it.

Castiel doesn't mind, he loves these rare moments when Dean laughs, and laughs really hard. But damn, his eyes really did sting. He sticks his head inside the bathroom adjacent to the kitchen and looks at his reflection for a moment. His eyes are lined with red and slightly puffy. His dark blue eyes stare back at him, and he narrows his eyes at himself. Cas hates the mirror.

He walks back into the kitchen and starts washing his hands. Dean has finished chopping the onions, and Cas is happy to note that his green eyes appear watery now as well. Dean feels a little bit bad, so he offers to finish cooking breakfast as long as Cas pays attention. Cas isn't really sure what he likes to eat, so Dean lets him try a little bit of everything before putting it in his omelet.

"Eggs are great Dean, but I don't know about mushrooms." Cas says, watching Dean pour a ton into his omelet.

"Here try one first" Dean says, holding out a fork with a mushroom on it.

Castiel is surprised to find that he loves mushrooms. He tries onions next, and can't stand them. He crinkles his nose and pulls back from his fork, visibly disgusted.

"I don't think I like anything about onions" he says, very matter-of-fact.

Dean laughs and shrugs, "more for me then".

By the time they are done, breakfast has taken them over an hour and it is probably closer to lunchtime. Cas's omelet is rather basic, other than the mushrooms, which he took copious amounts of. Dean's omelet is filled with mushrooms, onions, peppers, and ham.

"This is really good Dean, thank you for showing me how to make these" Castiel says, fairly certain that he could duplicate this process. Dean nods, his mouth full. Castiel grins, making sure to keep his mouth closed since it is also full of food. He wonders again, for about the millionth time, how it was that only Dean was able to make him feel alive. He supposed that Dean was his best friend, and the best friend that anyone could have. Castiel can feel his face getting hot again, so he quickly shoves the remainder of his omelet into his mouth and begins to clean up.