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“How's he?” Sam asked as soon as Dean walked in the room. He was laid in the sofa, cuddled in a blanket for warmth. After weeks of rest, he had started to feel better and now he could come and go without much pain, but he still got cold easier than usual. Dean sighed, refusing to meet his eyes.
“He's promised to try to get out of bed today, but I don't know man...” Dean collapsed beside him and closed his eyes as soon as his head hit the back of the sofa.
“Long night?” Sam asked sympathetically.
“He fell asleep, he told me. I'm sure he was just too tired to keep his eyes open. Lasted about half an hour before he woke up screaming.”
Sam decided against wondering how Dean could have heard it when he himself had sleep without trouble through the night. It could be because his body was still too tired, or any other explanation. And they had more serious problems to start gossiping about where or with whom his brother slept.
“It's too soon,” Sam decided to say instead. He knew how hard the whole situation was for Dean and felt he had to try to reassure him however he could. “Give him time, he'll be fine again.”
Dean didn't answer, but both of them were thinking the same thing. Cas hadn't been at his best before, but it was clear that the Fall had completely destroyed him. It was possible that Cas would never adapt to his life as a human, it was possible that his guilt and his pain were stronger than him. But Dean didn't need to hear that, so he just changed the channel to some cooking show and stayed silent by his side.
The day went by for him between naps and trying to keep solid things inside his stomach. He saw how Dean running from one thing to the next, but after ten minutes looking for cases on the internet, and an hour trying to check all the Men of Letter's archives they hadn't classified yet, only to disappearing into the kitchen five minutes after, it was clear that all he was trying to do was keep himself occupied. Sam knew he wanted to go bring some food to Cas to make sure he ate, or, even more likely, wanted to go there and drag him out of the dirty blankets fortress he had lived in for days. Sam had had to talk to him the first day, but now and he understood that it was something Cas had to beat himself. He had done everything he could to help and not being able to do more, the idea that waiting was the only thing left was consuming him. Sam just wanted to stumble to the room and beat the hell out of Cas for putting his brother through this, but he knew it wasn't fair so he said nothing.
It was already dark outside when they saw Cas dragging his feet and covered in one of his blankets. Saying he looked terrible was an understatement: he had a serious case of bloodshot eyes, the dark circles around them even worse than usual, and he didn't even dared to look up from the floor. He looked so small, so vulnerable... so painfully human. Dean got to his feet in a second, rushing to his side as fast as he could without scaring the guy.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked cautiously. Cas rose his eyes, looking at what he thought was Dean's shoulder. He nodded briefly. “Good, good.”
Sam stopped looking at them as soon as he saw his brother pulling Cas into a tight hug. He didn't know why, but it looked like such an intimate moment he felt like he was intruding even just by looking from afar.
“I'm so proud of you,” Dean whispered, but the room was so silent Sam could hear it perfectly. Soon he heard the steps and saw how Dean was leading Cas to their sofa. He laid him so he was huddle with Sam, both covered in blankets. “Just wait here you two, it's time for dinner.”
A few mornings after, Sam was rolling in his bed between nightmares when the smell of coffee hit his nose. He didn't want to wake up, not yet, not when he still felt as if he needed to sleep another 10 hours to start feeling rested. He opened his eyes and squinted to make sense of the numbers in his bedside table's clock. Way past twelve in the morning. Maybe it was a good idea to get up, or at least force himself to, since he still felt as if every limb weighed more than life itself. He didn't bother even putting on his slippers, just dragged himself out of bed and in the general direction of the kitchen. They had put a small table there, enough for the two of them, now three, to eat breakfast. Cas sat there in his borrowed clothes, staring with all his might at the cup of coffee that was directly in front of him. Another two smoking mugs were laid on the table and Dean was busying himself over the stove cooking what had to be pancakes by the smell of it. As soon as he entered in the kitchen, Cas pierced him with his eyes.
“Good morning, Sam,” he whispered. Dean turned with a bright smile on his face.
“Hey, Sammy. Feeling better?” Sam did his best to smile. He knew he looked like he had been run over by a truck a couple of times, but couldn't help feeling a warm sensation growing in his stomach. This was going to be the first time the three of them shared breakfast. He thought of helping his brother, but then he took a step and felt the world go a little wobbly, and decided it was for the best that he joined Cas at the table.
“How are you feeling?” Sam asked him, noticing the ever-present dark rings under his eyes and how these were red more often than not since he managed to get out of his room.
“Like crap,” he muttered, without a doubt mimicking his brother. “Dean assures me coffee will make me feel better.”
“It will, believe me.” Dean snorted as he put a plate with a tower of pancakes in front of them both and sat beside Cas. “You're just sleep deprived, it will wake you up.”
“Is that why humans drink it?” He wondered, his eyes still fixed in the mug. “Maybe that's why they endure the first taste.”
The brothers looked at each other. They had talked about how Cas still didn't see himself as a human, how he still talked as if he were an angel. They had decided against drawing his attention over this matter, but it still was something that worried them: that Cas would never accept his Fall from Grace.
But Cas was already serving himself a pancake after sipping a bit on his coffee. Sam did the same, but Dean's gaze was fixed on Cas' movements. Cas poked the pancake with a fork, checking its texture, before cutting a tiny bit and putting in into his mouth. Sam busied himself with drinking his coffee, trying to ignore how his brother's eyes registered every movement of Cas' mouth. Once he swallowed, he slowly turned to Dean.
“It is really good,” and then smiled, like they hadn't seen him smile in a very long time. “Thank you.”
Dean was rendered speechless for a few seconds, before muttering something and starting to eat his own breakfast.
“Sam, I require your assistance” Cas' voice startled him a little, still not used to having the man walking around the headquarters. After all the sleepless nights, endless days when he refused to eat or move were done, he thought they had left the worst part behind. They hadn't count on how difficult simple everyday things would be for him. It hit him pretty badly when he thought he was failing as a human, but Dean didn't leave his side for one moment, helping him with a patience he never knew he had. Sam had done what he could, but he knew his brother helped him in ways he couldn't. Maybe, Sam thought, they helped each other.
He turned around from his spot on the sofa to look at him. Sam didn't think he would ever get used to such domesticity. There was Cas, the trench coat and suit finally stored in a closet, changed for more comfortable and casual clothes. Dean's old clothes if he was not mistaken. They were slightly big on him, but, well, he supposed they were more comfortable to wear at home.
“Sure. What do you need, Cas?” Sam asked, surprised when Cas' cheeks turned a bit red before answering.
“I need some information. I'm lead to believe your computer could help me”. It was a good thing that Cas was finally curious about things again.
Next thing they knew, Cas had somehow found his way to the shop and bought some colorful thick threads with the real money they had given him. When Dean had seen him walk through their door with a paper bag full of groceries he had clapped his shoulder and given him a bright proud smile. Sam turned his eyes back to the book he was reading, but he was sure he had seen Cas' face blush a tiny bit. That was good, a very human reaction, even though he didn't seem to have any control over it at all.
“Okay, next: we have to get you your own clothes” Sam heard his brother's voice.
“But Dean, I'm fine with these clothes” Cas protested very weakly and Sam's nerves picked up a bit. Since getting out of the room, Cas had been having a really hard time resisting Dean. If he had wanted to, he could have made him behave like the perfect human just by ordering him about, but both of them knew that was no good. Cas had to make choices for himself. Dean didn't want to admit it, but becoming human had made Cas become some kind of lost child, clinging to the last thing that still was the same in his world: Dean. But it was fine, Cas has had free will once and he would have it again, he just needed time. So Dean just smiled.
“We'll get you new clothes when you want them, okay?” He said slowly and Cas answered with a subtle nod and a gentle smile. He and Dean disappeared in the kitchen to put the groceries in their place and Sam concentrated again on the words of death men.
Later that evening, Sam went to join them in the sofa, where they were watching some bad TV and sharing a bowl of popcorn. That was when he saw the threads for the first time. They were sitting pretty close, leaving an empty space for Sam, but Dean's eyes were fixed on the screen while Cas' were concentrated on his lap. He nearly went back to his room, but then he saw that his fingers were clumsily moving some sort of colorful threads. He cleared his throat to make his presence known, and went to sit beside Dean when he gave him a smile.
“Popcorn?” He offered and Sam grabbed a handful without looking away from Cas' hands, that suddenly stopped moving. Then those blue eyes were looking at him with an expression he had come to identify with annoyance.
“He's trying his hand at some crafts, won't tell me what it is, doesn't like to be watched” Dean explained without even blinking.
“Oh, okay” Sam averted his eyes rapidly and took the remote instead, so he had something to do with his hands. He changed some channels. “That's why you wanted to use the computer?”
“Yes” came Cas' flat answer. As an afterthought added, “it's been very helpful. Thank you”.
“No problem” Sam said in a low voice. Trying not to look and the man beside him, he made eye contact with Dean. He just shrugged and smiled. Better him trying to craft and having weird quirks than not moving from bed. Sam finally settled on some historical drama and took some more popcorn.
Cas went on fiddling with his fingers, slower and slower each minute that went by. Sam himself felt how his eyelids were getting heavier, maybe nodding off a bit since he had some lapses in the last half hour of the series they were watching. He glanced at his side and saw that Dean was still wide awake while Cas struggled to keep his eyes open. He knew he had to go to his room, but he was too tired to move just yet. He let his eyes close, but didn't fall completely asleep. After a few... minutes? seconds? He didn't know, but he heard Dean's voice whisper.
“Baby, you should go to bed.”
“I want to finish this first” Cas mumbled an answer. He heard his brother sigh annoyed, then breath really deep.
“You're going to fall asleep with whatever you're doing on your hands. Come on,” a pause, then he went on talking. “You can finish it tomorrow.”
A few minutes of silence followed, neither of the men moving as far as Sam knew, not feeling the sofa shift under him. He could bet his ass they were having one of those weird staring moments of theirs. Then he felt a movement.
“I'm scared,” Cas voice was so soft he would not have been able to hear it if it weren't so silent in their house. “Every night they come back to me.”
“What does? Cas you have to tell me these things,” his brother's voice was a little harsh, but Sam knew it was because he was worried.
“My brothers and sisters. Every single one of them that I... that I killed. Every single one that fell because of me” His voice was leveled, but the pain in it was so obvious Sam felt terrible for being there overhearing this conversation.
“They're just nightmares,” Dean's voice sounded like a plea.
“I killed them, Dean. What difference does it make if they are figments of my imagination or real?” He felt another shift in the sofa and then Cas voice came muffled by something. “I don't want to go to sleep.”
“Would it help...?” A little pause, Sam just knew Dean was checking if he was still asleep. His voice became even softer. “Would it help if you didn't sleep alone?”
“I would still have nightmares.”
“Yeah, but... I don't know, I could wake you up and we could fight your inner monsters the Winchester way.” A long silence crept between them, before his brother went on talking in the most serious voice he had ever heard him. “I used to have nightmares too. Of all the people I couldn't save, I mean. Especially at first.”
“That was not your...”
“I know, but, as you said, it doesn't make a difference.” And then he could swear he heard the sound of a soft kiss.
“It would please me to share a bed with you.” Without another word, he heard them stand up and walk to Dean's bedroom. As soon as he was sure they would not hear them, Sam opened his eyes and smiled before retreating to his own room to get a few hours of sleep.
When Sam woke up it was way past sunrise. After all that had happened, this was one of the first nights he'd slept through the night and actually woken up feeling rested. He dragged his feet to the kitchen and found it empty. He hoped that meant Dean and Cas had gotten a decent night of sleep too, though that didn't seem likely. He turned the coffee maker on and opened the cabinets looking for whatever food they had left. Before he could decide between moldy bread and something hard that looked like a cookie, he heard a loud yawn behind him. Dean was standing there on his dead guy robe and the dark rings under his eyes he'd had since they came back.
“Got any sleep at all?” Sam asked casually, taking out a couple of mugs.
“A couple of hours here and there” he sighed as he sat on a chair. Sam poured coffee for both of them and join his brother at the table. They sipped their way too hot coffee for a minute in silence.
“And him?” Sam asked.
“Even less than me. But at least he's agreeing to try.” Dean ran a hand through his hair and it was then when he saw it. Dean was wearing some kind of colorful thread bracelet. Sam stared and Dean turned red when he realized what he was staring at. Sam just raised an eyebrow.
“This is what Cas was making yesterday” Dean mumbled. Sam managed not to laugh but couldn't contain the smile growing in his face.
“A friendship bracelet?”
“It... I don't know man, but it seems to help him” Dean face was every bit as red as before, but his expression had turned completely serious. “I have to help him, just once more and if it means I have to wear...”
“Dean,” Sam cut him. “He will be alright.”
“Yeah.”
“He will be alright again.” He said and Dean just nodded. He wanted to tell him that both of them would be fine, because now finally had each other. But he could just imagine how his brother would react to such words, so he said nothing. One step at a time, Sam knew Dean had way too much on his plate as it was. Sam knew Dean would go to him when he was ready.
A couple of hours later, Cas walked out of Dean's room and Sam pretended he hadn't noticed that, nor how he was wearing Dean's ring or how Dean sprang to his feet to go and help him make himself breakfast. But Sam smiled, because now he was sure everything was going to be fine again.