Archive of Our Own ^beta

"You want us to do what?" Cas's voice is flat next to him, as if he can't actually believe that is being asked of them. Dean would furiously agree, but he is still staring in horror as his mind tries to take in what the unimpressed judge in front of them is saying.

"Yes, Mr. Novak. You and Mr. Winchester have a few hoops to jump through first."

Day 1

"You and Mr. Winchester have a few hoops to jump through first," Dean mutters sourly under his breath for the thousandth time that day as he roughly cleans eggs off a worn plate. By the irritated huff of air his soon-to-be-ex-husband loudly exhaled, Cas has been counting.

"What?" Dean snaps at him, throwing the washcloth back into the kitchen sink with much more force than strictly required.

"Nothing," Cas snaps back. He is sitting in the lone chair in the small, one-room cabin, arms crossed and jaw tight. "Except if you break our one plate, we're going to be eating off the floor, and you might have been raised in motels, but I'm not going to--"

"You're not going to what, Cas?" Dean snarls. "You're not going to slum it with the rest of the working class? You entitled, selfish--" They are both on their feet now.

"--At least I'm not some attention-seeking whore--" Cas has to duck as the plate flies past him to shatter against the wall.

They don't speak for the rest of the day.

Day 4

Cas is taking his own sweet time washing the dishes. The two dishes. Dean is convinced it should not take fifteen goddamn minutes to wash a bowl and a spoon.

The bowl is finally set down on the table with a clunk. The soup Dean made for lunch is still on the stove, and he'd be able to put it in the bowl and finally eat it if only Cas would--

"Pass me the spoon," Dean grits out.

"Pass me the spoon please," Cas responds sweetly, running the dry cloth over and over the spoon just in case he missed a drop of water.

"Just pass me the goddamn spoon, Cas," Dean erupts. "Jesus Christ, does everything have to be a fight with you?"

Any hint of humor on Castiel's face evaporates. "Fights take two, Dean," he growls as he slams the spoon on the table so hard it bends in half. "Just like screwing around."

Dean ignores the spoon. "How many does it take to betray your family?" he retorts. "Just one? Or was Crowley it on it, too?"

They end up cracking one of the table legs in that fight.

Day 6

The cabin is dark; a thin gleam of moonlight from the window over the kitchen sink illuminates a sliver of wooden floorboards. The room is silent, save for the figure lying on the floor shuffling, then rolling over.

The twin bed groans. "Just get in the bed, Dean." Cas's voice is tired. "You can't sleep on the floor again with your back; you're not 25 anymore."

The figure on the floor shuffles some more. "What do you know about my back anyway, Cas?" The words are confrontational, but the tone is hollow.

There's a soft snort. "You think I haven't been listening every time you've complained about it for the last four years? Now c'mon. It'll be a bit tight, but we've managed tighter squeezes."

The figure on the floor rolls itself onto its front, then pushes itself up. "Yeah, Baby's backseat during Sammy's graduation party springs to mind."

There is a low chuckle, then wiggling and rearranging and a few grunts and muffled apologies before the pair settle on the bed.

"G'night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

The room is silent.

Day 11

There's not much to do in their little prison. There's just the one bed, one table with a wobbly leg, and one chair. One fork, knife, and impossibly bent spoon. One pot with low enough sides that it can serve as a pan in a pinch. There's one bowl and eight pieces of what used to be a plate.

There are zero shelves with zero books. Zero forms of entertainment that don't involve picking up slivers of ceramic or splinters of wood off the floor. Zero ways Dean can distract himself that don't involve Castiel.

He thumps his head back against the wall behind him. It hurts, but it's more enjoyable than anything else in the cabin, so he does it again. And again.

"Cut it out," Cas snaps from where he's sitting against the wall on his side of the room.

Dean flips him the bird, but stops.

Cas pinches his lips together, but doesn't say anything.

Dean starts tapping out the melody line of "Stairway to Heaven" on his thigh.

Day 16

"Her name was Lisa."

Cas doesn't say anything, but he's gone unnaturally still, so Dean knows he's listening.

"She came into the shop to get her car fixed." He doesn't know why he's telling Cas this. He wonders if maybe clearing the air might be the best thing to do.

"I didn't know she was-- I wasn't-- She didn't-- I didn't do it on purpose" is what he finally settles on.

Cas hasn't moved since he started, so Dean hurries to explain. "I didn't decide I was unhappy in my marriage and wanted to screw you over." Cas shuts his eyes. "It just sort of happened. I didn't mean to."

The words hang in the air.

"I'm sorry," Dean says softly.

Day 17

"I knew you and Bobby were close," Cas starts. They're sitting across the room from each other again.

Dean doesn't say anything. He just lets Cas talk, the same way Cas let him talk the day before.

They hadn't worked much on listening before.

"So it wasn't like it was an accident. I knew." The words tumble forth more freely after that admission. "I knew what the deal with Crowley would mean for Bobby and for Sam and for you. I wish I could say that I hadn't realized, or that I'd spent long, sleepless nights fretting about whether it was the right thing to do."

Cas seems to crumple in on himself. "But I didn't. I knew what it would mean and I didn't stop to think. I just did it because it would get me the promotion I wanted.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

Dean can't decide if he wants to comfort Cas or punch him in the face, so he doesn't move.

Day 19

Neither of them can stand another meal sitting on the floor, but they've also called a silent truce, so instead of taking turns, they're attempting to share.

"Alright," Dean says loudly after he almost falls off the chair for the fourth time. "I'm done with this."

Cas frowns at the half of the chair Dean had just vacated. "I'm open to suggestions."

Dean gives the table and chair set-up a once over. "Okay, Cas, I'm gonna need you to pull the chair back from the table and sit on it sort of at an angle."

Dean gestures with his hands, but Cas just frowns at him in confusion, so Dean gives a great, theatrical sigh and bodily shifts Cas where he wants him. Then Dean plunks himself down unceremoniously in Cas's lap and reaches for the bowl and fork.

"There we go," Dean says, pleased with his solution.

Cas wraps his arms around Dean's waist to keep him from falling off.

Day 23

"I'm getting locked in a cabin, and I'm bringing an avalanche, a bar stool, a carrot cake, a dime-store novel....and an elephant," Cas finishes.

Dean snorts. "How are you getting an elephant into the cabin?"

"The same way I got the avalanche in," Cas deadpans. "Through the door."

He's much closer today, the pair having migrated to the same side of the cabin, though they're still about five feet apart. If Dean's being honest with himself (which is something else they've been working on), he likes it much better next to Cas than across from him.

"Your turn."

"Can I bring a freight train?"

Day 29

"A fireman?" Cas's nose crinkles as he smiles. He's sitting right next to Dean now, their elbows knocking.

"Yeah," Dean smiles back. "When I was six, I wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."

Cas contemplates that for a second. Dean stares at the tip of Cas's tongue just visible past his teeth.

"I can see that," Cas concludes. "I'm just picturing six-year-old you in a fireman's jacket with a bright red hat."

Castiel's smile widens and Dean's breath catches as he remembers how Cas smiles at him when he's in love.

It looks a bit like that.

Day 31

"And have the two of you come to any conclusions over the last month?" It's the same unimpressed judge, but now she seems amused as well.