The next day passes uneventfully-a true rarity in the bunker.
Dean walks into the kitchen to find Sam at the table on his laptop, forever looking for strange occurences. Jack is sitting his opposite, munching on cereal with a pleasant expression on his face. Dean walks over and scoops a couple of handfuls from the box into his mouth.
"How's the girl?", Dean asks.
Sam starts to speak but Jack beats him to it. "She's great", he answers. "She came out early this morning. I offered her something to eat. She's really kind. She has great energy." He smiles that angelic smile he wears so well.
Dean scoffs quietly. "Energy?"
"Come on, man", Sam counters, closing his laptop. "She's a sweet girl. I know we don't know too much about her yet, I'm going to talk with her soon. She does have...a presence." He tries to choose his words carefully.
Dean brushes past Sam's comment altogether, crunching the last of the cereal. "And what was with Cas? What was that? Something is off, I'm telling you."
Sam is again barred from replying when the angel appears in the doorway. "I don't know, Dean. I'll inform you when I figure it out, but I'll say this-I feel your concern with her is unwarranted."
"Of course you do", Dean retorts.
Cas is unflinching. "I don't know what you're implying. I'm asking you to bear with me, that's all."
Dean directs his eyes to Sam. "Have that talk, but she should be getting on her way tomorrow".
The three men look at him with mild distaste. He is clearly outnumbered, and it didn't make a damn bit of sense to him. They sat in quiet disagreement for a moment, before dispersing, leaving Dean in the kitchen.
Did he really think she is dangerous? He thinks it unlikely. If he's honest with himself, he's more agitated that everyone was so blindly willing to go to bat for her, immediately so. And then there was the thing with Cas...never ever had he seen such a thing. The look on his face when his hand was on her chest. The instant, trusted healing. Dean also knew Cas had checked in on her several times during the night, probably after she went back to rest, too.
Quiet feet on the floor broke his thoughts.
She walked over to the counter, awkward in motion, less comfortable than she was the night before. She'd put a flannel on over the mystery tank top-it was Dean's. Her black hair was messy, falling over her shoulders in choppy waves. Taller than Dean, she wore a pair of Sam's sweats, which were too long for her. She was somewhere in between.
Dean gave her a quick, clipped smile. He was looking at her shirt.
"Is it yours?", she asked. "Sorry...Cas went to the laundry room and grabbed a couple things for me".
"No worries", Dean replied, followed by a bout of silence.
"You aren't very happy I'm here, I can tell. I'm sorry to put you out, and I'm quite grateful for...for everything. I promise I don't have any tricks up my sleeve. I get why you're concerned."
"I uh...well, yeah. Good assessment."
She nods, padding to the fridge, grabbing two beers. "Jack told me to help myself. Didn't want you to think I was just mulling through your things without invitation." She placed a bottle in front of Dean with an earnest, soft smile.
"Huh", he murmured. She has a way of drawing your eyes to hers, he'd admit that. After holding her gaze, he'd also admit, however stubbornly, that there seemed to be genuine kindness there.
He twisted the cap. "So, how'd you know I wanted this? You read my mind?"
She smiled. "No, definitely not. It's a lot more subtle. I read people really well, that's all. Besides...there isn't much else in the fridge to drink, so the beer seemed an obvious choice. Also, you had a good bit of whiskey last night."
He fought a smile. "You're observant."
Her expression changes. There is sadness in her eyes, exhaustion. "I have to be. It's a must have skill for survival".
He looks her over, feeling his resolve deflate. Takes a swig from the bottle. "Fair enough, kid".
She seems satisfied with the interaction, feels her body ease a bit. "I'll leave you to your space. I have a feeling you don't get much down time around here. Thank you again for letting me be here, and for keeping me safe."
Normally a statement like this would come off as insincere, maybe even manipulative, when already in a suspicious mindset. Instead, his ballon of distrust looses more air, barely able to keep itself afloat.
On her way back to the room, she sees Cas in the hallway near her door. He was retracing steps, must've been checking in on her.
"I was checking on you", he says, mirroring her thoughts.
She smiles warmly. "I thought so. Thank you...you've been wonderful." In a swift, decided motion she steps closer and kisses his cheek. It isn't flirtacious, it's something else, and he can't put his finger on it.
That emotion again; in his stomach, in his chest. Not a flutter, something more deeply rooted. Strong. He embraces her without thinking, and her reaction breaks his heart: she wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head against his chest, delicately at first, then more needily-leaning into it, letting him feel most of her weight.
He feels her loneliness, detects underlying fear...he has never been able to sense emotions like this. He isn't supposed to be able. What is happening?
He tightens his grip against her, firm and steady. He wants her to feel safe.