Sunlight seeped in through the window, creeping up on Dean the next morning. The beat of the light in his eyes was what initially woke him. He opened his eyes, only to have to squint in order to see clearly. He rubbed his face, then lifted his arms in a stretch. He looked over to Castiel.

The ex-angel was laying on his back, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. Dean openly stared at him.

"Good morning, Dean."

Startled, Dean looked away. "Uh, mornin'." He spared a couple fleeting glances back. "Are you okay?"

"No," Castiel stated. "It feels like there's... this man trapped inside of my head, trying to beat his way through my skull."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, that happens." Rising to his feet, Dean stretched out his back. Falling asleep on a chair was completely different than snuggling into the memory foam on his mattress. He relaxed his shoulders, heading for the door. "I'll get you some water, Cas."

Slowly, Castiel moved into a sitting position. "I'll go with you." He paused, waiting for the room to stop spinning, and then got to his feet to follow Dean down the stairs.

"How do pancakes sound for breakfast?"

"I've never had pancakes."

Dean grinned, entering the kitchen. "Well we're gonna fix that." He took a glass out from the cupboard and poured some water into it.

Castiel frowned, lowering himself into the dining room chair. He watched in silence as Dean slid him the glass. "Here," he said. "If you don't like the taste of water then life's gonna be a bitch for you, man." Dean turned back to start on the pancakes without waiting for a response.

Castiel watched him. He took a drink of his water, set it down, and just stared. The ex-angel didn't even bother with turning away when Dean caught his eye several times during the process. It was... awkward for Dean, though he'd come to find out that Castiel was basically the definition of awkward.

After setting the batter into the pan, Dean paused to look back at him. He frowned, opening his mouth to say something, and then immed iately shut it again.

Recognizing the concern in his eyes, Castiel tilted his head. "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'. It's just..." He swallowed a lump in his throat, turning back to the stove. "It's good to have you back."

"I feel the same way." Castiel looked down at his lap, then back toward Dean's figure. "Though I don't believe that's the only thing on your mind."

Dean didn't say anything. He flipped the pancake over and stood there, waiting for the damned thing to cook. Suddenly the whole process took a lot longer than he remembered.

"If you need to talk about it," Castiel said, "I will listen to you."

"I'm fine, Cas."

"Dean..."

"Just... drop it. Okay?"

For a long moment, the entire house fell into a tense silence. It was still, quiet, and Dean was left to think about everything on his own. What was supposed to happen now? He couldn't just continue as if Castiel wasn't losing all of his Grace. They needed to find a damn wish of his and they had to do it fast before the process got worse. To think this was all his freaking fault. What a great friend he was.

"Dean."

He tightened his grip on the spatula. "I said to drop it, Cas."

"No, it's not that. I..." Castiel paused. When he wouldn't continue, Dean turned to look at him expectantly. Castiel was frowning. "I'm cold."

Dean blinked, looking at the man in his dining room. He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. Turning back to the pancakes, he said; "You can borrow some of my clothes for now. You've been wearing that damn suit everyday since I met you. We'll have to wash it."

"I used to use my grace to keep them clean..."

Dean tensed at how quiet Castiel was. He licked his lips, listening for the ex-angel to say something else. Nothing ever came. What felt like five minutes passed in tense silence before he heard the squeak of the old chair as Castiel took his weight off it. The creak of the stairs as he walked to the second story. The weight of Castiel walking around above him. He slammed the side of his fist against the countertop. How could he do something like this to Castiel? He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and tried to concentrate on the pancakes. Now they seemed less like a sweet breakfast and more like a reminder of human needs.

He threw the pancakes onto two separate plates and set them down across from each other on the table. Dean poured them each a cup of ice water, placing them beside their respective plates. Deciding to wait for Castiel to come back down, he spent his time glaring at the tabletop.

The stairs creaked under Castiel's weight. Dean schooled his expression and picked up his fork. He didn't want to be too obviously perturbed by the everything that's been happening lately. While waiting for Castiel to join him, he sipped at his water.

When the ex-angel appeared across the table, he was wearing blue jeans, a gray T-shirt, and he'd even pulled on the shoes he normally wore. The pants were too long for Castiel, the cuffs dragging on the floor behind him, and at that rate they were going to get completely torn up. He approached the table.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

Dean smiled at him, getting out of his chair and kneeling down. "It's fine for now," he said, not even bothering to look up at Castiel as he rolled the pant legs up. He gave his ankle a pat when he was done and stood up. "We're seriously going to have to get you some new clothes."

Castiel squinted.

"I don't like it either," Dean sat back down. "Two dudes don't just go out shopping together. It's boring. But it's one of those boring things that you need to do to fit into society."

"I can just keep wearing your clothes."

"Nuh-uh, we're not sharing clothes, especially not when you're going to mess up every pair of pants I own."

Castiel frowned and looked down at his feet. "If they're cuffed like this, that won't happen."

"Yeah, but you look like a complete nerd like that." He turned back to his plate. "Now sit down and eat your pancakes."

"I simply don't find it necessary to waste money when I can continue on like this," said Castiel. He sat down nonetheless.

"It's a privacy thing, Cas. Us humans need our space every once in a while, and with you stealing all my clothes it..." Dean stopped himself. "Shit!"

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows, watching Dean practically leap out of his chair. "Did I say something wrong?"

"I'm late for work," Dean explained, already halfway up the stairs.

Instead of following him, Castiel simply sat there and poked at his pancakes. He could hear Dean upstairs, his loud footsteps frantically running around in his room, then to the bathroom, then back to his room. Castiel smiled to himself at the thought of Dean tripping over his own feet in such a hurry. He started eating his breakfast, which was an odd experience first thing in the morning to be tasting so many flavors he'd never experienced before.

When Dean came down the stairs again, he was gripping a jacket. "Hurry up," he said.

Confused, Castiel abandoned his food in favor of the human. He paused at the edge of the table to grab the car keys that Dean had forgotten. He followed him to the door. "Dean," he said.

"What?" he turned to look at him. Castiel held the keys up. "Shit, thanks." He grabbed them, shoving the jacket into Castiel's chest. "You're gonna get cold," Dean said. "I doubt you've ever experienced temperature drops, so put it on."

Castiel did as he was told and walked out of the house with Dean.

They got into the car, Dean getting her started and driving off before Castiel had time to even shut the door.

"How'd you like the pancakes?" Dean asked suddenly only seconds after they'd left the house.

"They were interesting," Castiel responded. "Very sweet, but... A little dry."

Dean looked over at him. Castiel was smiling. "You son of a bitch!" Dean laughed, turning back to the road with a disbelieving shake of the head. The rest of the drive was spent in companionable silence.