Reconnection

 

Dean wakes up in the afternoon. His ascent from the bed takes 15 minutes and his eyes don’t truly open until after he washes his face and looks in the mirror. A year ago, Dean would have jumped to see Castiel standing behind him in his reflection, but this time, the only reaction he has in turning around and embracing his friend as tightly as he can manage.

“Where have you been?” Dean hisses into the side of Castiel’s neck.

“With Fred Jones, the Telekinetic.” Cas remarks, looking straight forward, his arms at his sides. “Fred has passed on. He was peaceful in his last moments and will be in heaven for eternity.”

Dean lets go of his friend and holds him at arm’s length, looking him over, chortling at the consistency of his friend’s attire “You haven’t changed a bit. You look exactly how I left you, Angel.”

Cas’ head tilts to the side “Thank you.” He observes his friend’s appearance for a moment. “You look like you’ve been drinking large quantities of alcohol.” Retorts Cas with a smirk.

Dean takes a moment to gather his thoughts before escorting Castiel to the table. “Can I get you a drink? Something to eat? Pie?”

Cas’ eyes light up as he blurts out the word “Pie”

“Like a kid at Christmas.” Chuckles Dean, his mouth curling into a smirk as he reaches into the refrigerator for the leftover Cherry Pie. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” he inquires, nonchalantly tossing the pie into the microwave

“You are why I came” Cas mutters. Dean turns to face the angel lifting one hip to sit on the counter. An eyebrow lifts.

“Me? Why, I’m honored. What’s wrong with me?”

Cas stands and moves toward Dean, capturing him between his own body and the counter. “There is nothing wrong with you, Dean.”

It takes a moment of registering for Dean to even think the words “Personal Space”, but his lips won’t move, trying to take his attention from Castiel’s bright blue eyes to the pie in the microwave. Dean gathers his thoughts for a moment and manages to mutter a “Thanks” before Cas moves back.

“What have you done with the past months?” Cas inquires with an awkward gesture of his hand, still standing too close for comfort. Dean slides off of the counter and moves to sit on his bed before answering.

“Not much has changed; Sam and I are still hunting.”

“Why aren’t you with him?”

Dean stands and moves to the desk at the foot of the two beds. He takes a photograph from a stack of worn papers and stolen library books. “He’s questioning one of the witnesses, a woman I met when I was on my own.” He hands the picture to Cas, admiring the woman’s chocolate brown hair and soft eyes. “She was really something, but she might be a bit confused by a plumber who worked his way up to the fed. Sam’s working this one solo and I’m playing Bobby.” Dean moves to the fridge for a beer. “What about you? What have you been doing?” He bends over to reach the bottle at the back of the shelf. Cas notices the waist of Dean’s blue underwear peeking out of his pants and tries to look at anything else, but finds himself staring out of the corner of his eye.

“I – I’ve been, uh, guarding Fred Jones.” He babbled as Dean straightens up putting a beer in Cas’ hand.

“Is that it, man? You didn’t go out and have any fun for seven months?” Dean resumes his seat on the bed, inviting Cas to sit on Sam’s.

Castiel sits down and allows Dean to open his beer, even though he could easily open it himself. “I had fun, I was guarding Fred.”

Dean chuckles to himself. “That doesn’t count as fun, Cas; standing around a nursing home is work.”

“I didn’t stand around; I spent most of my time sitting on the shelf in his room writing.” Cas pulls out a stack of small rectangle papers with miniscule writing bound in a piece of string. “I observed Fred. I wrote some letters. I copied out books of the Bible from memory. I kept myself entertained.”

It takes Dean only a few seconds to realize why the papers are so small “You can change size, can’t you” He sneers at Cas’ embarrassed expression before he laughs.

The microwave beeps and Dean stands to retrieve the pie. Cas feels slightly offended and follows Dean to the kitchen with his eyes. “I don’t… I don’t understand why that’s funny.” Cas says as he blushes

Dean opens the microwave door and calls over his shoulder “Man, you’re the fucking Elf on the Shelf.”

“I’m not an elf, I’m an Angel.”

Dean only laughs harder at the thought of Castiel guarding Fred from the top of the nursing home Christmas tree. Cas stands from the bed, his face bright red as Dean walks back with the warm plate of Cherry Pie. Cas looks at his feet as he accepts the plate and sits back down. The embarrassment doesn’t pass so fast, but the more he acknowledges it, the weaker he feels.

“What’s wrong, Angel?”

“There is nothing wrong… er… Human.”

Dean takes a moment to take in the fact that Cas doesn’t understand endearing terms before he moves to sit next to Cas on Sam’s bed and places his hand on Cas’ upper thigh.

Cas immediately understands the meaning of “Personal Space”.