Sam had considered giving Dean a healthy amount of teasing when he walked back into the room to find the two of them asleep, each on their good side, foreheads just barely touching in their sleep. The only reason he didn't was watching his brother startle awake when Sam made sound, wrenching himself so badly Sam had to check to make sure he didn't rip through his newly repaired stitches.

The next hour was spent with Dean talking Sam down from his renewed resolve to stay and keep an eye on the two of them. Dean lost track of wherever Cas slipped off to, smartly rolling clear of the hurricane kicked up by the two brothers butting heads.

Finally Sam relented, and unpacked the things from his supply run, helping Cas set up the air mattress in the living room, knowing that both of them would probably fight to let the other have the bed. He didn't know who would win that fight, but whoever it was, at least the other would have a somewhat decent option to fall back on. He moved a fair amount of furniture to the far end of the room, kitchen chairs and such. Things that would only clog up the space in which the two would be rolling around.

Cas had spent the first two hours after Sam left just sitting in the bedroom and trying to pretend he was reading a book and not just staring at Dean as if he might spontaneously die now that help was gone. Dean had eventually called him on his shit, and Cas reluctantly stopped hovering. Eventually he had been cornered into yet another old cowboy movie, how he didn't know.

Dean woke and he could feel the sunlight across his face through the window, and as good as the warmth felt, he knew he didn't want to open his eyes just yet, because the difference would be harsh. Right now it was warm and… nice. He felt the weight against his chest and sighed. This was becoming a habit he couldn't afford to let continue indefinitely. They keep this up, people were gonna talk.

The hunter tried shifting slightly, trying to nudge Cas' head away from the center of his chest where it put some pressure on his wound. He groaned, scrunching his eyes but still delaying opening them. "Cas, you gotta shift, man." He mumbled. He raised his hand up to push the angel's head aside if he had to. His hand made contact with and looped into the soft hair, but he paused. Too soft… and then… he moved his hand slightly. Matted?

Dean finally opened his eyes, blinking predictably against the sun's harsh rays. "Oh what the fuck!?" He was jumping, his hands scooping under the now equally surprised cat. A second later and the grey cat was flying through the air, half of its own power, half the knee-jerk reaction of a half asleep hunter. The cat landed on its feet with ease, using the momentum to spring itself up and into the window sill where it began cleaning its paw as if it always meant to be there.

"Dean!?" Cas wheeled into the room, clearly concerned to hear the hunter wake yelling.

"Cas…" Dean winced as he struggled to push himself up into a sitting position against the headboard again. He put his hand flat against his injured ribs, feeling his pulse throb there from the exertion. "There's a cat in here!"

"Yes." Cas casually opened a bottle, shaking the pain meds and antibiotics out, handing them to Dean with a bottle of water.

Dean furrowed his brow looking up at Cas, looking him up and down and noticing how not-confused he seemed about the cat in the window sill. "Why's there a cat in here!?" He accepted the meds without a fight.

"She was meowing at the door this morning." Cas said simply, as if were obvious.

"It was-" Dean looked at the cat, who seemed to be regarding him with vague interest, probably trying to judge the likelihood of being thrown again. "You can't just let a cat inside!"

"It's cold outside."

"And she has fur! It could be somebody's cat…"

"The state of her fur implies it is far more likely she was abandoned." Cas replied.

"That's not-" Dean tried to get his brain to catch up with the information, feeling like he was making an argument while not firing on all cylinders. "Cas, you can't just… it's in the bedroom…" He was having a hard time articulating exactly why Cas couldn't just let a cat into the cabin.

"I tested her with silver and holy water. She is safe."

"Did you test it for rabies?" Dean cast a sideways glare at the cat. "Or fleas?"

"Her matted fur appears to be the only thing wrong with her."

"Cas…" Dean sighed, still not able to fully process what the hell was happening. "We'll talk later, alright? It's too early for this shit."

"I will start coffee and breakfast." Cas said with a small smile, turning and rolling out of the room without further conversation.

Dean was left blinking, looking between the now closed door and the cat who had decided to just lay down in place, and appeared to be nodding off in the sunshine.

It took awhile for Dean to more or less fully wake up. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up, deciding to at least attempt to change clothes before facing today. He slipped the nasal cannula off, pulling out his phone to check in with Sam while he went to battle with his clothes.

"A cat?" The voice coming over the phone wasn't trying hard to mask his amusement at the described situation.

"Asleep on my chest."

"What did you two name it?"

"Oh don't you start." Dean put the phone down for a quick second, pulling two new socks on with an embarrassing amount of difficulty before picking it back up again. "We're not keeping the fucking cat."

"Yeah." Sam snorted. "Good luck with that." He sighed. "And you're sure you're doing okay?"

"My hand to god." Dean scooted himself to the edge of the bed, the pain meds finally letting him move without the urge to cry out, not that it didn't hurt like a bitch. "We're fine. I can even smell Cas burning breakfast in the other room."

"I tried to get things he couldn't mess up too badly."

"Then what am I smelling catch fire?"

"Best guess? Pop-tarts."

"How do you burn… whatever." Dean sighed, trying to wrap up the conversation so he could attempt the next part without Sam catching on. "Well, breakfast smells just about as over-ready as it can be so I'm gonna get off."

"Call again tonight?"

"I thought we agreed once a day?"

"Humor me."

"Whatever. Yes, I'll call you tonight Samantha, don't get your panties in a twist."

"And put that oxygen back on. I can hear you took it out."

"Yeah yeah." Dean hung up, tossing the phone onto the nightstand next to the discarded oxygen tank. Instead of obeying he scooted forward, wincing with the strain, but it was worth it. He managed to pull himself over and into the second wheelchair at the foot of the bed in one, albeit not graceful, movement. He waited a second to let his breathing return to normal as the pain faded. He tested shifting his weight a little, pleased to find the upright position actually relieved some of the pressure on the ribs.

Testing, he put his hands over the armrests, beginning to push himself forward a bit. With one leg and two arms it was easier than he expected, even with the limited range of motion near his chest. Opening the door was slightly more difficult, and he could see why Cas played bumper cars just about every time he crossed that threshold.

Dean was immediately impressed by how short he felt. He'd been in this cabin before, and dozens of cabins basically just like this one. But being eye level with the countertops really threw off his sense of normalcy. His face flushed hot for a second thinking back to when Bobby got stuck in the chair. He snapped out of the memory as he felt something furry and small slip from under the wheelchair and past his feet. He narrowed his eyes, watching the cat running to start following Cas around the kitchen, occasionally weaving right under the former angel's chair.

Castiel turned, eyes widening. "Dean… should you be out of bed?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"If Sam was here, is there any chance you'd be out here?"

Dean pulled a face. "I'm sitting at a table, not running a marathon. And that's a lot of judgement to be coming from the guy who let a feral cat into the cabin."

Cas narrowed his eyes but relented, going back to what he was doing, transferring the overcooked pop-tarts to plates, rolling them over before rolling back and grabbing the pot of coffee. He poured them both mugs, setting them down before heading to the fridge and pulling out a package of what looked like deli turkey. From this he removed a few slices, setting them on a plate and putting them at the other end of the table, which the cat eagerly jumped on top of to eat.

"Really, Cas? On the table?"

Castiel shrugged, coming to sit at his spot and finally take a rest. Dean didn't miss the small twitch at the corner of his lips and he was taken off guard for a minute.

Cas was baiting him. He processed this new information. Cas must've talked to Sam after he had fallen back asleep. Sam was always needling him with little inconsequential things that he knew Dean would complain about. He did the same when Sam was hurt. It was their unspoken barometer for how they were doing. If you didn't rise to the bait, you weren't feeling yourself. He narrowed his eyes at the angel but didn't say anything, looking over the somewhat blackened pop tarts before choosing to sip at the coffee for a second first.

"I may have overheated the pastry snacks."

"Yeah, I'll walk you through the finer points of using a toaster tomorrow." Dean still took a bite, considering for a moment before shrugging his good shoulder and digging in proper. He'd eaten far worse when he and Sam were kids, never wasting food, even if it were Sammy's misguided attempts to make him breakfast for once.

Cas thoughtfully ate his own overdone breakfast, also without complaint. He was staring as the cat finished her turkey and sipped from the coffee mug full of water before stretching and hopping down to go off and explore. "I do not know how to remove the tangled parts of her fur." He admitted.

"Cas, you aren't keeping the cat." Dean replied flatly.

"Even so, they look uncomfortable. She should have them removed before moving on."

The hunter stared at him for a moment before smiling a bit in spite of himself. He rolled his eyes. "Alright. I'll help you style the cat. And then, a warm meal and she moves on."

"Agreed."

"Fine." Dean took another sip of his coffee, shaking his head.

Thank you guys for all the reviews! It makes me happy to know what you guys like so far! Let me know what you think about this latest chapter. Figured it could use a little bit of fluff amidst all the drama and trauma.