Sam sighed, feeling a sense of relief as the bunker came into view. He pulled down the drive past the door towards the garage entrance. He was just about to ask Charlie if she wanted to start researching that night when the figure appeared in front of the car.

Sam swerved, cursing and slamming the breaks, quickly stopping the impala and climbing out just as fast. The demon knife was in his hand already, and he was hurrying from the car.

Crowley just stood there as the younger Winchester approached. "Now, now Moose. There's no need for that."

"You're a dead man." Sam growled, lunging at him, hitting nothing but air as Crowley easily blinked and appeared behind him. He whipped around trying yet again, this time watching as the demon reappeared on the other side of the car.

Crowley didn't notice Charlie, and was caught entirely off guard when the passenger door slammed open, knocking him off balance. This time he rolled out of the way as Charlie reared up to slam her boot down on his head.

"I didn't come here to fight!" He said quickly, pulling himself to his feet and putting his hands up.

Sam tightened his grip on the knife, but he let himself stand still. "I don't care. You got Dean into this mess, you're not getting off the hook for that."

"And that is exactly what I'm here about." The king replied, dusting himself off. "Word on the street, Dean Winchester is off the reservation again."

Charlie retreated to be closer to Sam, being entirely unarmed. Sam didn't stand down, his face still set in anger. "And?"

"And I'd like to help rectify that."

"Oh sure, you want to help now."

"Yes." Crowley snapped. "Dean as a demon is a loose cannon, and the last thing I want is for it to be aimed at me and mine." He frowned. "Common goal and all that."

"What exactly do you think you have to offer?"

The demon kept his gaze steady. "You tell me. I assume you have him locked down somewhere, or you'd have already called to see if I'd found him." He waited for a second, but when he didn't get a response he continued anyway. "I'm sure you and your merry band have something you're working on. Don't pretend the full resources of hell wouldn't be of any help."

Sam didn't let any of the tension leave his body. "And that's what you're offering?"

"Come on Moose. Plenty of time for murder later, let's solve this little issue now."

Charlie looked at Sam, watching him work through the offer on the table, watching him struggle with the decision.

Finally Sam spoke, his voice firm despite his reservations and residual anger. "You are cuffed the entire time you're inside."

Crowley scowled. "Really?" He asked disdainfully.

"Your choice."

His expression fell into one of annoyance. "Fine." He finally muttered.

Sam sighed. He didn't take his eyes off Crowley, handing the keys to Charlie who headed to the back of the impala to dig the demon cuffs out of the trunk.

Crowley leaned back on his heels. "Well then. Shall we?"

.

As the next day's sun rose and cast it's light through the cabin window, Castiel startled awake. The memories of last night crashed down on him like a sack of bricks. He shot upright, looking around the room, searching for the demonized hunter. He let himself relax for a second at finding the room empty.

For a moment he wondered if it had been a dream… that maybe Dean hadn't been there at all. One look at the broken salt line settled that for him.

Cas took a moment to calm his racing heart, his mind turning over what happened, berating himself for letting his guard down like that. He finally breathed for a second before pulling himself up and off the bed. With Dean outside, he took a moment to lay down another salt line, blocking off his sanctuary once more.

With that layer of security he let his body fully relax. He sank back down onto the bed, allowing himself some time to process before he attempted to move again. He became aware of the fresh smell of coffee coming through the door. He sighed, dragging himself up again, knowing he had to face the hunter and whatever mood he was in eventually.

He moved over to the side of the room, slipping from his lounge-wear and into his normal stiff clothing. He frowned, looking around, searching but coming up without his coat. He was fairly certain he had laid it out there the night before. He thought back to Dean. What would Dean want with my coat?

Ignoring it for the moment, Cas took a second to straighten his hair before he finally felt collected enough to walk into the cabin beyond the door.

Dean had his back to him, working at the stove. Cas could smell the eggs and bacon starting to mix into the smell of the freshly brewed coffee. Cas frowned looking at Dean wearing his coat. He walked over to the counter wordlessly, intent on pouring himself a mug. The demon pushed a full mug across the counter for him without looking up. Cas muttered a thanks as he picked it up.

Dean turned towards him, leaning back on the counter, spatula still in hand, letting the eggs alone to cook. Cas froze for a second, processing the image in front of him.

Dean had lost his shirt at some point, instead dressed down to his black boxer briefs under the open tan coat.

Castiel felt his ears grow warm, knowing Dean was baiting him, trying to get a rise out of him.

"Good morning honey." Dean greeted, his voice carrying an almost sultry undertone.

"Dean." Cas replied, careful to keep his voice flat and his face neutral.

The demon nodded towards the mug in Cas' hand, a smirk settling on his face. "Boy this coffee is hot." He crossed his arms. "Kind of like-"

"Dean." Cas warned.

The hunter pulled a face. "Touchy, touchy." He muttered, rolling his eyes and turning to divide the eggs.

Cas took a seat, pulling the mug of coffee to him, and picking it up to his lips.

Dean put a plate on the table in front of the angel, settling in himself and beginning to eat. "So, any exciting plans for today?" He finally asked, mouth still full.

"I have nothing."

"Guess we'll just have to find a way to pass the time."

Castiel didn't betray any emotion as he looked at Dean. He wasn't willing to give into the trap he knew the demon was setting up.

Dean simply smirked again, turning his attention back to food.

Cas finished up in silence, finally standing and returning to the sink to clean his dishware. He looked out the window, noticing the heavy snow that was falling from the cloud laden sky. There were more than a few inches already blanketing the ground. "It looks as if the storm is already underway." He remarked, watching a strong gust of wind kick up a snow squall.

"Really?" Dean said incredulously, leaning back in his chair casually. "You want to talk about the weather?"

Cas turned back. "Do you have a better suggestion for conversation?"

"Oh, I can think of a few." the demon purred.

It was Cas' turn to roll his eyes. He straightened up and headed back towards his room.

"Where are you going?"

"With my grace focused where it is, I feel the need to shower." He said passively.

Dean raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. He instead got up and brought his own dishes to the sink.

Cas ducked into the bedroom, opening the bottom dresser drawer and pulling out a fairly large towel before coming back out towards the small bathroom off the kitchen. He was aware of Dean following, but he closed the door swiftly behind him, locking it.

"You're no fun." Came the muffled response through the door.

Cas ignored him, figuring that Dean would leave well enough alone rather than break through the door.

Dean retreated from the door, moving back over to the kitchen window, taking a peek out at what Cas had been looking at. He glanced up at the thermometer, frowning. He sighed, turning around and heading over to the other table in the room, pulling out his laptop to amuse himself.

Cas fully dressed before he left the steamy bathroom behind. With no better place to put it, he opted to hang the towel over the back of one of the wooden kitchen chairs. He came back over to settle down on the couch and continue his book from where he left off before Charlie arrived.

The demon studied Cas, ignoring his computer for a few minutes. It was slight, but he could see Cas start to shiver, his wet hair likely doing him no favors. Cas again didn't seem to give any indication he noticed. Dean frowned. "You should get a fire going again." he prompted from his seat.

"It is unnecessary."

Dean stood, bringing his laptop with him as he came to sit sideways in the black leather chair, throwing his bare legs over one of the legs. He took a second before he spoke again. "It's snowing, Cas. It's like, against the law or something, to not have a fire when it's snowing."

"I do not believe such a law exists."

"Well, it's against my laws."

Cas rolled his eyes, but decided he didn't want to fight about this. He got up, setting to work building a new fire.

Dean turned his head to continue watching Cas while his back was turned. He considered this new information. Cas was stronger than him, maybe not by a lot, but still. And yet he seemed fairly human in a lot of other aspects. The difference being he seemed just angel enough to not notice his own needs.

Dean resigned himself to keep trying to make sure Cas survived this cabin stay, as much as it annoyed him. He hadn't ripped apart angel after angel to find his grace just to have him die of exposure. As he felt a freezing gust of wind, he internally lamented that they couldn't do anything to cover that drafty door.

The hunter stood right as Cas finished up. He stretched, pulling off the tan overcoat and tossing it towards Cas.

He caught it, and frowned, looking away from Dean's mostly bared form.

Dean let a sly smile return to his face as he watched Cas try to avoid making eye contact with him. "Since you've revoked my invitation, would you be so kind as to return my clothes to me?"

Cas tilted his head.

"Top drawer of the dresser."

Cas frowned, but he turned towards the bedroom to get them. Inside he took a second to slip the coat on over his shoulders, feeling a shudder run down his spine when the warmed fabric settled in place.

He opened the dresser drawer, finding Dean's neatly folded jeans and shirts. He pulled them out and walked back into the living room, handing them directly to the hunter.

Dean stepped back, simply pulling on his jeans where he stood. He threw the shirts over the back of the chair, opting to sit back down without putting them on.

Cas found himself unable to resist rolling his eyes again before he returned to his book.

Dean just grinned and got back on his computer.

.

The daylight had just turned to dusk when the lights began to flicker. Both the angel and demon looked up, similar frowns etched into both their faces. Just as Dean was about to comment, they finally gave up, the power cutting entirely.

"Great." Dean muttered.

"It doesn't affect us much." Cas pointed out. As inhuman creatures, they both possessed a far greater ability to see in the darkness. Beyond that the stove was wood burning and the fireplace was self sufficient.

Dean slapped the lid of his laptop closed. "Yeah, but I was just about to plug this thing in because it's almost dead." He muttered.

"Ah." Cas said simply.

The hunter took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff. "Whatever. Let's work on food if we can't do anything else." He decided.

Cas was reluctant to put down his book, but again decided it wasn't worth the effort to argue. "What are you planning to cook?"

"Chicken parm, if you'd be so kind as to help with the knife."

"Alright." Cas replied, leaving and returning with the warded lock box. He followed Dean to the kitchen, lighting the stove before awaiting instructions on what and how to assist.

Dean fell into a rhythm, relaxing as he settled into working. He opted to make a sauce from scratch rather than cut corners with a jar like last time.

Cas watched from the corner of his eye as he split the chicken into filets.

"You're a better kitchen assistant than Sammy." Dean remarked casually.

Cas looked up at him, questioning.

"He spends the entire time complaining when I don't immediately put a spice back where I got it from." He shook his head. "He is somewhat…"

"Fastidious?"

"Anal."

Cas gave a small smile, picturing the two of them fighting over cooking. He washed off the knife, drying it carefully before replacing it back in the box and closing the lid. He pushed the cutting board across the counter to Dean, who took the chicken and settled it into the pan.

"Are you enjoying the ability to taste food again?"

Cas considered for a moment. "Yes." He admitted. "It was something I enjoyed during my time being human."

"You ever consider going back?" Dean asked. "You couldn't cut it out when you had Theo's grace, but now with your own…"

Castiel sighed, turning his attention to washing the cutting board to avoid looking at Dean. "I have given it some thought before, yes."

"And?"

"It doesn't make sense at the moment."

Dean turned, studying the angel for a minute. He took in the tense posture, the set expression. He read the unspoken words. Cas felt it necessary to retain his grace as long as Dean was a danger… or rather as long as Dean was in danger.

"Even if you guys get the mark off and cure me, you're not going to let yourself have that are you?" He asked, his voice betraying no emotion. "You'd rather be of greater use."

Cas dried the board without comment, setting it back into its place. "We'll see." He said at last. He picked up the lock box and walked it back to the bedroom, tossing it over the salt and onto the bed from the open doorway.

Dean prepared the rest of the meal without comment.

.

It hadn't gone unnoticed when Cas began to shiver once more. Sitting at the table away from the fire, the warmth just didn't compete with the drafts. Dean was certain now that Cas really couldn't feel how cold he was.

He considered saying something, but he stopped himself. He didn't think Cas would be responsive to another sign of possible weakness. He was being too careful in case Dean hadn't managed to guess his grace was so depleted.

When Cas didn't move after he was done, Dean stood. "Come on, let's go back." He felt a small flicker of annoyance as he said it. That really was all there was to their world. Kitchen to couch, and a small landing with two cots he didn't need. He was annoyed at how eager he had been to have that one new room last night. He tried to push it down.

Cas leaned back in his chair, looking at Dean carefully.

When he didn't respond, Dean felt the annoyance spike into something dangerously close to anger. He took a slow breath, shoving that aside too, grounding himself in the moment. "No use sitting around here." He continued, his voice not wavering. He turned and headed back towards the chair, feeling himself regain control of his emotions, carefully keeping the static at bay.

Cas followed, taking a brief detour to grab another book before returning to the couch.

He had to admit, everything else aside, he was enjoying the amount of time he had for reading.

Dean absently flipped through a book of his own, only half paying attention. He felt another gust of frigid air slip through the wide cracks in the front door. This cabin was well suited for the fall, but definitely not built to withstand the Iowa winter.

As the temperatures fell, he watched Cas carefully, not surprised to find the fire insufficient to warm him properly. Still, in spite of this, Cas was just about nodding off.

When he heard Cas' breathing even out he made up his mind, putting his book down and standing. He sat down on the couch next to Cas, pulling the angel towards him and settling him close to his body.

Cas half woke up, lazily attempting to push Dean away. But when Dean just looped an arm across his chest, he gave up, instead letting himself fall back asleep.

The demon simply held the angel, glad Cas hadn't decided to return to his room, away from the warmth the fireplace provided. Still, as it was, he had to wake Cas twice to tend the fire.

The second time, Cas was far less accepting of the unwelcome wake-up. "Dean…"

"Come on, it's almost burning out."

"Let it." Cas muttered.

"Just put another couple logs on, it'll last until morning."

"It's fine."

"Cas-"

"Dean, let me sleep." He groaned.

The demon hesitated. "Cas, I'm cold." He lied.

The angel furrowed his brow, opening his eyes and looking up at him. "What?"

"Shut up about it. Just… put a couple logs on, please."

Cas hesitated, trying to discern if he really was weak enough to feel the weather. He supposed Dean had been carefully maintaining the fire since Sam first arrived, perhaps the demon really was that depleted. Though, he remembered Dean spent a lot of the day wearing very little clothing.

But, he reasoned, maybe Dean gets weaker as the day goes on too.

Not suspecting ulterior motives, he pushed himself upright, walking to the fireplace without further comment.

Dean relaxed, just glad it had worked. Maybe now it will be less of a fight.

He sighed gently when Cas walked back without thinking about it, settling back down on the too-small couch and leaning his weight against the hunter. Dean continued to keep watch through the night, listening to the raging storm outside mix with the steady breathing of the man in his arms.