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It had been Charlie's idea to make the run, and truth be told, the normalcy of pizza and beer sounded like something they could all use. Little food, lot of beer, and then hopefully some sleep. But then came Sam's text--Cas is back. 100%.--and suddenly Dean couldn't think clearly anymore. He told Charlie, of course, who was all kinds of excited, carrying on about how maybe this was finally the cure they'd all been hoping for. Dean was pretty sure it wouldn't be so easy. It never was.
And then they were back at the bunker and Charlie's picking up the bags and all but racing inside, but Dean finds that he is unable to move. His mind is racing--what did Cas have to do to get his grace back? Who did he make a deal with this time? And more importantly, now that he's completely back, would he be able to see Dean for the monster he really is? Would he see through everything, through the facade that Dean has worked so hard to maintain, just by looking into his eyes? He's been able to put up a good show for Sammy so far, act like everything is fine, more or less, but he knows he won't be able to fool Cas. Cas could tell something was wrong with Dean from the moment he'd taken the Mark, and Dean is sure he'll know immediately how much worse things have become now.
At last, because he can't put it off any longer, Dean gathers his strength along with the pizza boxes and shoves himself out of the car and into the bunker. Some sort of greeting tumbles out of his mouth as he walks through the door and he sees that of course Charlie and Cas have already met and she looks so damned happy to see him that she's practically beaming as she looks up at Dean and then Cas turns to follow the sound of Dean's voice and their eyes meet briefly as Dean wills himself to just keep moving. A flood of emotion washes over him as he hears himself ask how Cas got his grace back but doesn't quite remember hearing the answer. It feels good to have him here, peaceful somehow, even though something hangs in the air like a cloud between them and suddenly he can't meet Cas' gaze anymore. He mumbles something he hopes sounds appropriate, jabs at Cas' shoulder in what he hopes looks like something he should do, then turns his attention to the more mundane task of opening pizza boxes and beer bottles.
As they gather at the table, Dean lets out a ragged breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. This is good, his mind insists. This is normal, we can do this, we deserve this. He dares to make eye contact with Sam as they clink their beer bottles together . . . casts brief glances as Cas, who seems thoroughly engrossed in Charlie's animated conversation . . . laughs a little too loudly and drinks a little too much, hoping against hope that this moment could actually become a new normal for all of them, even though he knows the nightmares are coming for him later. It's not perfect, and there's still no damned beach in sight, but it's better. And better is okay, for now.