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The hour was late when Dean turned over in his comfy sheets and felt his stomach rumble. Sam had been telling him at every opportunity that he'd been eating too much ever since they'd gotten their own kitchen, but after so many years living out of the back of his Baby it was nice to have a place to call their own. A kitchen and nearby food was just another luxury he’d grown to appreciate. He pulled back the sheets and got out of his bed, thinking about that half-empty box of cereal in the cabinet that was calling out to him. Dean was up and almost there when he saw the light on in the kitchen and stopped himself before entering. It was a virtual toss up to who was in there at such a late hour. He peeked around the corner and spotted the back of a dark haired, slightly tanned, guy in a robe and breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Shouldn't you be sleeping," Dean commented as he walked into the cool room.
Castiel looked up from his own bowl of cereal and Dean groaned.
"Tell me you didn't eat the whole thing?"
Castiel swallowed and shook his head. "There's enough for another bowl - I think."
Dean grabbed a bowl and spoon, the cereal which he poured and then went for the milk. "You finished the milk?"
"Dean, it was your turn to buy the next carton."
Grumbling to himself, Dean ran the spoon through the dry, chocolaty balls and stuck a few into his mouth. Castiel sighed down at his own bowl and Dean could see that his cereal was a big, soggy mess.
"Been sitting here a while?" Dean asked, putting the bowl down and leaning against the counter.
"I couldn't sleep. I was just thinking..."
"Thinking," Dean said with a nod, "yeah, that never ends well. About what?"
"People I have failed. My brothers and sisters I've killed."
"Ah. So same old, same old."
"Dean..."
Dean looked down at Castiel's cereal bowl and bit the inside of his cheek. "If you're not going to eat that, then can I at least have a little of your milk?"
Wordlessly and with a deep frown, Castiel pushed his bowl towards Dean and Dean tipped it and poured a little of the excess into his own. Dean moved the spoon around and took a bite and sighed.
"It's warm."
"Dean," Castiel said, looking up to him, "how are you able to live with it?"
"Live with what?" Dean asked while chewing.
"The guilt. I -"
Dean swallowed awkwardly and immediately began shaking his head.
"Oh no. No. We are not having this conversation right now, Cas."
"Rachel. Balthazar. Samandriel. So many others that I've killed in the name of the causes I've been set. They were my family, Dean."
"And you think I've got a nice and shiny family life? Let’s count this mother down, um, my mom sold her soul to a demon for my dad. My dad told me I might have to kill Sam if he couldn’t be saved and then I went and sold my soul for Sam. Went to hell. I had an illegitimate, younger brother whom I’d never met before that was eaten by a ghoul. Both of my brothers were ridden by angels (and once a demon). More hell. You going all scary and then crazy. Demon blood, vessels - come on Cas, I can match you problem for problem on that one."
“There were good times thought, yes?”
“Well, yeah. Some, between the crap.”
"I taught Samandriel how to fly."
"You….what?"
"He was a younger angel than myself and he was struggling so I gave him a few tips." Castiel looked down at his hands on the counter, his finger tracing an imaginary circle into the wood.
"What was it like?"
"What was what like?" Castiel asked.
Dean shrugged his shoulders and popped another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "Flying. Like, actual flying and not when you'd just zap us somewhere and block our intestines."
"That's disgusting, Dean."
"Yeah, well, back to the original point though - he was a good kid, that Alfie. He liked you. He didn't deserve what happened to him."
"What I did to him, you mean."
"You.Were.Being.Controlled. Naomi made you stab him – end of story. I'm begging you that if you want to get any sleep tonight and for the next week then you will not go there." Dean leaned in so close to him that their noses were almost touching. "Am I making myself very, very clear?"
Castiel for once looked away first. "Apologies."
"Good."
They remained in silence for a time before Castiel said out of the blue, "It was bliss."
Blinking, Dean asked, "What?"
"Flying. You asked me about flying and I am telling you that it was nothing short of bliss."
His eyes took on a faraway look as he sighed and actually smiled to himself.
"The feel of wind at my wings gave me...joy. Laughter." He looked over to Dean and said through the side of his mouth, "I believe the term you would use is ticklish."
Dean tried to swallow his food again but couldn't help the burst of laughter that came out of him.
"Are you kidding me?"
"I am not," Castiel said, looking proud of himself.
"Dude, but Cas you can't just...you can't just blurt stuff out like that."
Generally interested, Castiel shifted himself on his seat and leaned forward and asked, "Why not?"
Dean moved his hands around (still holding the bowl in one and the spoon in the other) before saying, "Dude, that is just ripe for pranking."
Looking intrigued, Castiel asked, "And what is pranking?"
"Well, you know," Dean said, eating again, "practical jokes. Like Loki, I mean Gabriel, did."
"I see," Castiel said, bringing his hand to his chin, "So jokes at the expense of others you know - that is what a prank is."
"Right."
"But as I understand it, sometimes there's a sort of war element. I assume that means the pranks increase in severity."
"You're two for two."
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas?"
Castiel opened his mouth, about to say something but closed it instead. "Never mind."
Dean felt fear crawl down his back at the glimmer in his friend's eyes. That was not a good thing. Castiel sighed then and stood up.
"I think I will attempt sleep once again. Pleasant dreams, Dean."
"Yeah, you too Cas. See you later."
Castiel deposited his bowl into the sink and walked out of the room, heading towards his bedroom. Dean watched him go before deciding to do the same. Thinking about nothing but his memory foam and warm sheets, Dean made it to his bedroom door and attempted to open it. The knob would not turn.
"What?"
Dean tried using his shoulder and force the door open but still it remained stubbornly shut.
"What?" he said again.
"Dean."
Dean turned to find Castiel, twirling a ring of keys on his finger. The keys to all of the bedrooms in the bunker. The former angel smirked and shut his own door and locked it.
"Two can play at this game," Dean said just over a whisper.
"Shut up, Dean," Sam's dreary voice called from his own bedroom.
Oh, it was on now.