Cas flips over a page in the book he’s reading, still not taking in a single word. His head is pounding, and the continued strain is making him feel dizzy. Across from him, Sam is buried nose-deep in a huge volume, and he doesn’t look like he’ll be resurfacing any time soon.
With a sigh, Cas pushes himself up. He still hasn’t quite figured out what to do with himself in this spacious bunker yet. He likes reading, but his mind doesn’t accept as much information as it used to. He’s tried shooting practice, but he’s not really up to going out in the world yet. He’s tried going outside the bunker, to take walks and explore nature, but Dean won’t let him go.
So far, that’s the only time Dean’s said more than a few words to him.
He ends up wandering, weaving through the halls and nosing around. Somehow, the smell of pasta pulls him into the kitchen. He lingers in the doorway, watching as Dean hovers over the stove, cooking away.
A few silent minutes pass before Dean says, “You don’t have to stand there. You can come in.”