Chapter Twenty-seven: Honor in Freedom

"Hello, Dean. Sam, Reina." Cas nodded as the three of them filed in. "Hey, Cas. Where's Bobby?"

"He's sleeping." Cas answered. "How was the hunt?"

"Good. Won a few bucks off Sammy." Dean dropped into a chair and summarized the hunt for Cas. "How was your hunt?"

"Not – not as good as yours." Cas looked tired. "We got there a little too late."

"What's the matter, Cas?" Reina asked as she and Sam took seats around the table, their duffle bags lying on the floor. "You know that angels – angels can go mad." Cas started.

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, this one - he killed – seven people – he used to be a Grigori. He thought he was helping." Cas shook his head. "I –

"Grigori are like healers, aren't they?" Reina asked timidly.

"Yes, but they're angels of Death too." Cas explained.

"So what – how did you stop him?" Dean asked. "Another Grigori – Muriel – helped me," Cas informed them. "Grigori can track each other better than anyone. They were a crucial battalion in wars. So they have a system – anyhow. We traced him– Nakir – and –

Cas bowed his head down. Silence spread around them – it was never easy to acknowledge something like this. "Sometimes, when we're far too gone – if I ever let go of all the good inside me," Reina said, a few silent minutes later, "And I detested myself – and any of you freed me from it, I'd only ever be grateful. You understand, what I'm saying, Castiel?"

Cas looked at her, cocking his head sideways in confusion. "Was it honestly an act of mercy? Or just –

"Once I read a story where a bad guy made some of the warriors drink a potion that made them his slaves. The other warriors all tried to change back their brethren, who had turned. But it seemed impossible. As though their souls were gone and mutilated wills inhabited the bodies of their loved ones.

So, when came the battle, one warrior faced his brother, sword to sword, blade for a blade. And the noblest thing he did was to slay his brother. He gave his brother the freedom from being an abomination."

Nobody knew quite what to say, but Cas nodded as if he understood. "Thank you." He said as he stood up. "I think – I need to distract myself." He spoke quite levelly now, the weight in his voice gone. "Shall I recommend a good book?" Reina asked.

"Does that help?"

"I find that it does. Stories are homes for me. To escape, to refresh, – to find myself again. perhaps you'll find a home of your own."

"Maybe I'll give it a try." Cas smiled as he strode towards the bookshelves. The rest of them got up, understanding the silent indication that Cas wanted to be by himself.

As they walked towards their bedrooms, Sam stopped Reina. "What happened to him – the guy who killed his brother?"

Reina's expression contained a strange sadness. "Right after killing his brother, he turned the sword on himself, unable to live with the weight of grief. He was buried with all the honors, despite being a suicide, because of strength of will and nobility it took him to give his brother the honor of being free."

Raina hummed as she whisked eggs, earphones dangling from her ear. She'd gotten up early today, and she felt like eggs. So here she was in the kitchen, her old phone, and earplugs, listening to a familiar playlist, making omelets.

Once she'd cleaned up, she went around the bunker to see if anyone was awake – and to no surprise, she saw Sam go into his room after a run, sweaty in a T-shirt and track pants.

She blushed to herself and then shook her head. Sam was indeed a handsome fella, she thought, as she turned around, but he spotted her leaving. "Reina?"

"Good morning, Sammy," she smiled at him. "Good morning. You're up early." He wiped his face on a small towel. "Want some breakfast? I made omelets." She asked. "Sure."

And that's how Dean came to find them both laughing in the kitchen, with omelets and fruit juice on the table. "Morning," he grumbled, and right after, Bobby traipsed in.

"What are we havin?" He peeked at the table. "I – let me just get you a plate." Reina moved over to the kitchenette, serving two more plates. "Juice, Bobby?" Sam asked as Dean and Bobby sat down. "Yeah, why not," he nodded.

Reina's heart swelled at them all sitting down for food. She pushed Bobby and Dean's plates towards them. Both of them immediately dug in, and she watched as the food disappeared swiftly. Some sort of motherly feeling woke in her stomach as she refilled their plates and glasses.

"Come sit," Sam beckoned to Reina. "No, it's okay. I'm done anyway," She said, picking up Sam's and her plates. "Hey –

"It's fine, Sam." She said, refusing to let him clear up. "I'm going to take a shower." He announced as he left. Realizing that the omelets might run short, she took out the batter from the fridge. "Want more, Dean?" she asked as she moved to make a few more. "Yeah," He answered.

"I'm done though," Bobby said as he got up. "Can't eat too much in the morning," He explained as Reina insisted that he eat more and left the kitchen.

"Here you go," She served the food hot off the pan into Dean's plate. "Thank you," he said, attacking his omelet with relish. Watching Dean eat so heartily, a plan popped up in her head.

"What's the plan today, Dean?" she asked, moving over to the sink. "Um – we don't have a case – if that's what you mean."

"Oh. Okay, so we're free."

"Well, probably. I'll take a look at Baby and other cars, and Sam – will probably do more research," He said research scornfully, mocking his brother.

"Could we – go for a food run?" She asked, drying the dishes. "Uh – sure. I need to get some things for Baby too. Afternoon sound good to you?"

"Yeah, yeah," She approached the table and plucked the dish and glass from Dean's hands. "I'll take these." She smiled as Dean let go of the plate.

Dean watched her wash his plate with a weird sensation. When was the last time anyone other than Sam had done that?

He shook his head, leaving the kitchen – and he stopped short at the humming he heard. He peeked inside the kitchen and smiled to himself as he watched her sing, softly, while she dried the plates.