Sam finished cutting a slice of pie, plating it and setting it aside. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on with his brother, but he was more than a little worried. He was pretty sure Dean wasn't telling him everything about what happened with Malachi. He frowned, thinking back on Dean's words. "Sort of a close call, I guess." He glossed over it, but Sam's head was turning, trying to figure out what was on his mind. Dean had seen a lot of torture in his lifetime, so he didn't think that'd be affecting him that much. And wasn't that a hell of a statement. But maybe a close call really meant… Cas was an angel again and could bring him back if he died. Maybe it had really been that close.

Sam hadn't been too surprised when Dean refused breakfast. Egg white omelettes weren't really something that appealed to his brother. He had been pissed enough to not care when he started making them, and then had just sort of figured Dean would be hungry enough to eat. It wasn't like he had an opportunity to yesterday. At the time though, he was mostly just counting his small victories in redirecting his hungover brother to coffee instead of beer.

It was almost three when he realized Dean had not been back from the garage to make food. That in itself wasn't very unusual. When he worked on the car, he often would lose track of time. Sam sent a sandwich up with Kevin, but when he next saw Dean, he was bringing the plate back to the kitchen, mostly untouched. That was when he started to feel concerned.

He had gone out to grab a couple of Dean's favorites, knowing if he got takeaway from the local burger joint, and Sam didn't send it in with pie, It was one thing guaranteed to flush his brother out. It'd been long enough now though, and Dean hadn't re-emerged with accusations Sam had forgotten to pick up his pie. Now he was downright worried.

So here he was, putting the pie on a plate, intent on running it to Dean and maybe seeing if he could convince Dean to talk about whatever was going through his head.

Sam headed towards Dean's room, giving a quick listen through the door. Quiet. That meant either he had dozed off or had his headphones on. Sam took care to open his door quietly, determined not to interrupt him if he was somehow asleep. He slipped in, looking up to see which it was, and froze as he made eye contact with Cas. Sam took in the scene before him. His brother was asleep across the angel's chest, settled in his arms, covered in the tan coat. He could see the evidence of tears, but Dean looked at peace now.

Castiel silently shook his head, trying to discourage Sam from making any noise that could wake Dean.

Sam felt his face grow warm and he nodded jerkily, turning and leaving, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. He felt like, no, he knew he had intruded on a very personal and private moment. He stood in the hallway just outside the door for a moment, the plate of pie that was still in his hands forgotten. He started towards the kitchen again on autopilot, trying to think about what he had just seen.

He had come home to the cabin once to find his brother similarly close to Cas, but he had been in shock and strung out on morphine. Sam wasn't really sure what to make about it, and he decided to try his best not to make anything out of it until he had spoken with his brother at the very least.

.

When Dean woke, he was still laying across Cas' chest. He felt discomfort, but not for the reasons he would have expected. Being vulnerable, or, heaven forbid, affectionate was something he didn't do and would have expected to feel uncomfortable about. But instead, it was that Cas was still in the same position as he had been. Probably had been all night. Because Cas was an angel again. And Cas didn't have to sleep. He'd never have to again. Because he wasn't human. And that… that was something Dean had complex thoughts on also.

Complex thoughts were something that frankly, Dean was over. He really wanted to be faced with something right now that he had clear cut opinions on. Just a good old fashioned black and white issue. But those had been few and far between as of late, and seemed to be growing rarer as time went on.

"You are awake." Castiel said simply, noting the change in the hunter's breathing.

"Yeah." Dean grunted, pulling himself up to sit, scrubbing his hands over his face to try and shake the last bit of sleep from his brain. He noticed that it wasn't a blanket across him, but rather Cas' tan overcoat. He pushed it aside. "What time is it?"

"5:34am."

Dean squinted at his bedside clock, confirming it, not that he had any reason to doubt. He tried to figure out in his head when he fell asleep last night, how long he had been out.

"You have been asleep for nine hours and sixteen minutes." Cas supplied.

"Huh." Dean said, passively. He was actively fighting his mind's struggle to connect, to begin to process or think about… well, anything.

"How are you feeling?" Cas asked, lacking the tact required to even pretend to be coy about asking.

"Great." Dean's tone was heavy with sarcasm.

There was a moment's pause. "I don't believe you are."

Dean whipped his head up, but the verbal lashing he had intended to deliver died as quickly as it came. Cas' normally stoic expression was replaced with one of concern. It was… disarming. He sighed, having trouble keeping hold of his anger, yet feeling lost without it. "No. I'm not." He replied lamely, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, levering himself into a slightly more grounded sitting position. If he couldn't maintain the feeling of control with anger, he could at least pretend with physical stability.

Cas was quiet for another minute, seeming to turn over his thoughts in his head.

Dean actively fought against replacing the wall his mind wanted to put up, was screaming for him to put up. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm…not sure." Cas admitted. He gave a weak smile, meeting Dean's gaze.

"That new for you?"

"No."

"Yeah well… sounds about right." They both stopped, looking up as they heard the sound of Sam's door close. Dean counted the minutes before hearing the distant clang of the outer door sound, signalling his brother was out on his morning jog. He took a deep breath. "Cas-"

"Dean, I am sorry." He hesitated before putting his hand down, just barely touching Dean's. "I'm sorry I keep causing you distress."

Dean looked at him, his expression guarded. He didn't trust himself to let his emotions through, he couldn't sort them right now. He felt… no. Right now he couldn't afford to feel. He would let himself feel later when he could do so safely without losing control. At least, this was the lie he told himself. "Yeah, I know." Internally he winced at the words. How detached they seemed.

But Cas didn't indicate it if he noticed. He studied Dean for a moment, and knew instinctively that the hunter needed his space. He was doing his best to cover for it, but Dean felt like he was cornered. Cas had seen the amount of hurt and fear in his mind. It didn't cancel out the love, but it was not something to ignore. He let his breath out, shifting he weight towards the edge of the bed. "I must attend to Paka. I am afraid I forgot to feed her last night."

"How is she settling in?" Dean asked, relieved at the not-so-subtle out the angel was offering him.

"She seems fearful to explore beyond the bedroom. But I think with time she will grow as comfortable here as the cabin." Cas straightened up and grabbed his tan overcoat from where it had been put. "I will tell her you asked after her."

Dean snorted a short unexpected laugh, a little of the tension easing from his shoulders.

Cas smiled, glad his attempt at humor had landed well. He shrugged his coat over his shoulders and headed towards the door, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

Dean waited until he heard his door shut before he leaned back against the headboard, arms crossing over his chest, the defensive mask he wore snapping back into place. He could hear his pulse creeping up in speed, hear it echoing in his ears. He sat up again, this time rising to his feet, considering getting washed up and changed. But honestly, that felt like too much time to think. Think about Cas being an angel. Think about letting Cas see his thoughts last night. Think about what these feelings even meant.

He settled on keeping his mind busy so he could avoid dealing just a little longer. Breakfast was a clear thing he could work on. He still felt shaky from not eating yesterday. He could use the food, and the distraction. Besides, he could do better than egg whites.

By the time Sam returned from his run, he could hear the pots and pans being moved around in the kitchen. He headed over to investigate, surprised to find his brother halfway through making breakfast. "You're up early."

Dean turned to look at him, and managed to pull on a forced smile. "Wanted to make sure breakfast was less lame than yesterday."

Well, that was at least a little more like him. "Ha ha." Sam rolled his eyes, but walked over to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. He closed the doors, and leaned against the industrial unit, watching his brother, trying to take in his body language, or any indication on his thoughts. "You sleep in those clothes?"

Dean looked down, as if noticing for the first time he was still wearing yesterday's clothing. Not that it was unheard of to sleep in their clothes. Just rare these days. "Yeah, put my headphones on last night, must've been more tired than I thought. Out like a light."

Sam wanted to groan at the obvious lie, but he knew it was only obvious because he had barged in last night, and he figured the last thing Dean needed was for that to be brought up. Sam wasn't going to get Dean to talk about anything on his mind if he was on the defensive. "I sent Cas in with dinner."

Dean looked sideways at him and then blinked a few times, and Sam was impressed he could actually see in somewhat real time as Dean tried to supply excuses to cover up the truth. "Yeah, I saw that this morning. Must've been out already."

"There's some pie in the fridge."

"Yeah, saw that too. Thanks Sammy."

Okay, so much for the subtle approach. Let's try pointed but indirect. "What's going on with you, man? You've been acting weird since you got back to the cabin."

"Yeah, well, a lot happened. Angels, torture, Crowley, Gadreel, You…" Dean scraped the eggs and divided them between the four plates.

"Well I mean, sure… but-"

"But what, Sam? In case you haven't noticed you've been kind of high strung since then too."

There was the edge. Sam knew he was treading carefully now. One wrong move and Dean would lose control of whatever composure he was forcing in place. That wasn't what he was going for, so he tried to backpedal a bit. "Yeah, that… I didn't mean anything by it… I was just trying to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine." The older hunter flicked off the heat on the stove. He threw a few pieces of bacon on each of the plates.

"Dean-"

"I said I'm fine Sam." Dean's voice was cold now, and abrupt. It left no room in there for argument, and it made it clear that the conversation was over. Sam knew he couldn't say anything further on the topic. Even one more sentence and Dean would be pushed over the edge.

Turns out he didn't need one. Sam grabbed two of the plates, walking them over to the table. He set one down for him, and one next to him for Kevin when he inevitably emerged searching out food. Dean brought over two of the plates, and set one down in front of his usual spot.

When he didn't sit, Sam looked up, finding Dean standing still beside the table, the fourth plate of food in his hands. He looked… Sam couldn't really put a word to what emotion he saw written on his face. He abruptly turned on his heel, scraping the plate into the garbage. Sam thought he heard Dean mutter something about Cas not needing to eat anymore. He was just about to ask when he saw the last thread of composure violently snap. Dean turned and threw the plate at the sink hard enough it shattered in the steel basin. Sam jumped, his eyes snapping up as he saw the facade his brother was working on shatter with it.

Dean just stood still, and then gripped the prep table in front of him as if it was the only thing holding him up as he took slow breaths and tried to regain a hold on his emotions. Looking at him now, Sam was pretty sure that table was the only thing holding him up. "Dean-"

"Don't." He warned.

Sam hesitated, not wanting to make it worse. "I'm going to run this to Kevin. Please… don't leave." He wasn't sure how useful that request was. Dean wasn't ever particularly open to suggestions or requests when he was spiraling out of control.

Nevertheless, Sam stood with the plate intended for the prophet and hurried as fast as he could, cutting Kevin off before he could wander into the kitchen and meet the powder keg at the wrong moment.

He was somewhat surprised when he came back and Dean had sunk down into one of the seats at the table. He sat with a fork in his hand, distractedly poking at the eggs as if he actually intended to eat any. Slowly, Sam slipped onto the seat opposite him. He took a few bites despite his own disinterest, trying to give Dean a moment to process or something.

"He took Theo's grace because he couldn't stand watching me get tortured."

Sam frowned, surprised Dean actually spoke first, though he had a strong feeling that wasn't the thing that weighed the most heavily on his brother's mind. "The way it sounded, you were gonna die if he didn't do that."

"Yeah." The reply was equal parts bitter and regretful.

"So it makes sense what he did."

"Yeah."

"Dean, if he hadn't, it wouldn't have just been you. Theo would have killed Cas once he figured out he had no connection to Metatron. And you know that. Cas had to do that in self defense. So what is this actually about?"

"Nothing." Dean tried a fake smile, but it fell flatter than his usual attempts. He even took a bite of the food, trying desperately to get his brother's scrutiny off him. It wasn't going to work.

"Dean… just talk to me."

"I can't."

"Dean-"

"Sam, I can't."

Sam debated with himself before deciding to go ahead. Frankly, they didn't have the china budget to wait for Dean to come around to talking about his feelings on his own. More than that, Sam wanted to know, needed to know. "I saw you… last night I came to bring you… I mean, I had a slice of the pie… and I thought, well, you were asleep…" Sam winced internally, that rambling mess not quite how he wanted to say it.

Dean's eyes flicked upwards, and it was clear barely contained fight-or-flight panic.

Sam thought, now more than ever before, he looked like a wild animal caught in a trap. He braced himself, knowing it was likely the anger would be swift to follow. Dean used anger to protect himself. The more vulnerable he was, the angrier he'd get. And Sam was determined not to let it scare him off.

But Dean didn't look like he had the strength to get mad. Frankly he looked pale enough Sam was a little worried he'd pass out right here and now. He mentally kicked himself for not managing to keep the conversation light and distracting enough until after Dean had managed to eat something.

"Dean… talk to me." He pleaded one last time.

"I can't."

Sam could do nothing but watch his brother drag himself to his feet, and shakily make his way out of the kitchen.