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For the past few days, there hadnt been a case. You, Dean, and Sam were staying at Bobby’s house to pass time, while the three of you were trying to figure out what exactly could stop Lucifer.
And during these last few days, you slowly have been feeling more off. More… human? There was a pit in your stomach, and sometimes when you were alone, it would make a strange noise. The other day, when Dean had praised you for your success in finding out a possible lead on who Bela could have given the colt to, you felt warm inside.
You hid it from the rest of them, incase they thought you were odd. But tonight, you couldnt really handle it anymore.
It was around midnight. Too late for most to be awake, but not for you. You didn't really sleep, but after the last case, you felt a bit exhausted. Usually when you’re on a case and Dean and Sam go to sleep, you quietly stand in the corner of the room. Watching over them to make sure they can sleep peacefully, or you wander around whatever town you guys are currently in.
Tonight, you were once again burdened with an unfamiliar feeling. A strange sensation in your stomach, similar to the one a few days ago. Hunger. The word bounced around in your head as you sat on the old chair in Bobby’s house.
You’ve seen Dean eat late at night before, a common occurrence. His usual choice of food was a simple sandwich - peanut butter and jelly. Sometimes, you watch as he makes it, the motion of his hands smooth, like he's done it hundreds of times before. He probably has, but who are you to say? Dean never comments on how you watch him do simple tasks, and if he catches you staring at him, he gives you a small smile, or a raise of his eyebrow.
The way he makes his sandwiches always intrigued you, but tonight, it wasn’t that. You wanted him to make you a sandwich. To sit by as he makes it in a comfortable silence.
You didn't even realize you had gotten out of the chair you had been sitting in for the past few hours , and walked up to Dean’s room. Snapping out of your trance, you are paused in front of his door. It would probably be easier to just appear in his room, but the last time you had done that, he wasn't quite happy. Perhaps it was because you had woken him up for the absolute stupidest reason ever, but you just wanted to show him the cute animal you had found..
You were happy,excited even. It was late at night, and while the others were sleeping, you decided to walk around in Bobby’s yard. In doing so, you met a small puppy. It was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, and seeing it made you think of Dean. You slowly approached it, so you didn't scare it, and iit let you come close.
Picking the dog up in your arms, you walked back to Bobby’s house and opened the front door. You wanted to show it to Dean, but you knew he would be asleep. After all, it was around 4 AM. He would be happy if you showed it to him though, right? You thought. One second you were inside Bobby’s house at the front, the next, you were standing at the foot of his bed. The dog shifted in your arms, but you just pet its head.
Dean’s bed was a mess, in typical Dean fashion, there were clothes everywhere. He had his hunting duffle bag next to bed where he slept, and his shoes were sitting at the foot of his nightstand. The faint glow of the clock beside him read 4:18 AM.
He was sprawled on his back, his arm was covering his eyes as he snored. He looked peaceful, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was dreaming about. You stare at him for a moment, wondering if waking him up from his sleep would really be a good idea. Not often do you wake him up for frivolous reasons, but he could always just go back to sleep, right?
“Dean?” You asked, your voice was unsure. The room stayed silent, aside from the soft sound of his snoring. “Dean..” You tried again, this time a little louder.
He groaned, shifting under the covers and pulled the pillow over his face. “What the hell, Sam?” He mumbled. You stepped closer to him, unsure of what to do next. You’ve only woken them up from appearing in their dreams, or because there was trouble
Softly, you touch his forehead. At that, he jolts awake, eyes wide and confused for a split second, until he sees you and just blinks- adjusting to the dim light of the room. “What the-“ He rasped, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Angel, I- what time is it?” He questions. “4:20 AM.” You reply back.
He groans, and you can tell he’s about to go back to sleep, when all of a sudden he sees the dog sitting in your arms and gasps. “Is that a friggin dog in your hands? Are you serious?”
You come closer to him, and he moves away a little. “Yes.. do you find it cute?” You ask. “Why do you have a dog in my room, at 4:20 AM, angel?” There's something in his voice that isn't usually there when he speaks to you. Is it irritation?
“I brought it for you.” You simply state. At that, he makes a noise and wipes his hand over his face. “You woke me up. To show me a dog?” He narrows his eyes at you, and you just nod your head.
Safe to say, he was not happy. He kicked you out of his room, and made you put the dog back outside. For the rest of the day, he was tired and grumpy, and when you apologized, he would just grumble something at you.
So maybe it was not a good idea to teleport into his room. We all make mistakes though. Knocking on his door, you hear the muffled sound of movement from inside, followed by a grunt. “Come in” you heard.
The door creaks open, and you step inside. Dean quickly put a magazine away when he saw it was you, and you raised your eyebrow. “What was that?” You question. Dean gives a nervous laugh and puts it off. “Uh, nothing. Anyways, what are you doing here?”
You hesitated, not really sure on how to answer. Human experiences were still foreign to you, and expressing them to Dean made it more complicated. “Can… can you make me a sandwich?” Dean blinks, his nervous expression turning into one of confusion. He motions for you to continue. “I'm hungry.” You state flatly.
“You’re hungry? What, like, all of a sudden? You're an angel but now you’re craving food?”
Nodding, you reply back. “Yes, and I’ve seen you make a sandwich. I want one, will you help me make it?” You plead.
Dean stares at you for a moment, processing the request. He runs a hand through his hair, then speaks again. “Alright, I’m not sure what's going on with you, but let's go make a sandwich.” He says, then gets out of bed and walks out of the room.
You grin as you follow him down the stairs and then into the kitchen, where the moonlight filtering through the window made it look strangely serene. Dean instructs you to get a plate, while he opens the cabinet and pulls out a jar of peanut butter, the jam, and bread.
“You ready for your culinary lesson, Angel?” His voice was playful, but there was warmth in it that you didn't quite expect. You step closer as he goes to the counter, and observe his every move, just like always. He spreads the peanut butter first, then adds a little bit of jam. “There's no jelly, so you’ll have to deal with strawberry jam tonight.” Dean comments. He finishes, then puts the two slices together and slides the plate to you. “Eat up.” He jokes.
Before you could grab the sandwich, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from down the hall. The door to the kitchen opens, and you’re met with the sight of Bobby. He squints at the two of you, and there's an annoyed expression on his face.
“What's going on here? It's the middle of the night, and you two aren't exactly quiet.” He grumbles, his voice rough. Dean shrugs his shoulders, and answers nonchalantly. “Making a sandwich. Angel over here decided she was hungry. You want one?”
Bobby narrows his eyes, not entirely sure of what to make of this situation. Once his eyes land on the sandwich, his stomach makes the same noise yours had been making. “Hell, why not.” He grumbles, taking bread out of the container and making his own. “Wait a second,” He pauses. “You’re eating a sandwich with us?” His gaze flickers to you. “What, are angels allowed to do that now?”
“I… dont know.” You reply. “I have never felt hunger before, but I do now. Maybe it’s from the amount of time I have spent down here.”
Dean chuckles, and sits down at the table, now with his own sandwich. “Nothing beats a midnight snack, and food is just amazing. You’ll love it.” You sit down next to him, and then Bobby sits down across from you, his sandwich in his large hand.
The three of you eat in a comfortable silence. The room feels warmer, less like a house of hunters, and more like a home. After a few bites, you realize something. The hunger, it wasn't just physical, but something deeper. It meant you were slowly becoming a part of humanity, gaining the messy experience of human life. Your thoughts are cut off by the sound of a yawn coming from the doorway. Its Sam.
Sam steps in the kitchen, looking bleary eyed and tired. He pauses when he sees the three of you at the table, and rubs his eyes. “Are you three seriously making sandwiches in the middle of the night?” He asks. Dean smirks, already on his second sandwich. “Yeah, and so what? Premium lifestyle right here, Sammy.” You smile at the two, but then direct your eyes to Sam. “Join us Sam.” You say.
Sam sighs, but then makes his own sandwich from the counter. Surprisingly, his has a lot more peanut butter, but less jam than the rest of you guys.
As the four of you eat together, you feel content. A conversation brews between you guys, and the topic switches from different foods, to previous hunts, and then just life in general. For the first time in a long while, you guys seem to forget about the outside world. The worries of stopping Lucifer temporarily disappear, and you just focus on what's in front of you. And while Dean talks, you stare at him with a smile, and feel warmth spread throughout your body. It seems the human experience isn't so bad.
Maybe for now, you can pretend like the end isn't coming, and just enjoy sitting with your family.
