Day 54: Breakfast

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For once, HK was working very hard to hide a giddy facial expression as he met his nurse at the door. He'd already hidden his scalpels in his clothing. The wonderful, sharp implements of doom would be needed today. “Statement: Despite my reticence towards all processed meat and plant products, I am experiencing intolerable levels of hunger,” he

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[poorexample]

This was the fifth time Castiel had done so, and yet he was still not accustomed to waking up. Seeing how he'd spent over a century not doing so, it would likely be some time before the very action didn't disorient him. Even if he'd lost consciousness and regained it, he was certain the feeling was different. Despite not being able to explain it

[allroadslead]

Considering who he'd spent all night with, Sam wasn't sure he wanted to call it a good night, but it honestly did rank higher than some of the other nights he had. Compared to the zombies or being torn apart by invisible hell hounds or the insanity of the portals, it wasn't the worst that could've happened.

While the mornings were often so routine it hurt-he'd been here three weeks; not once had he seen the schedule diverge-today was different. He'd never paid much attention to his nurse until now. She was distracted. Huh. He watched her for a second or two before venturing an innocently curious, "Is everything okay?"

She glanced up, as if startled, before offering a hasty, "Yes, yes, absolutely," and hustling him out the door.

Okay, then. He'd take that as a, "No

[poorexample]

Even if Castiel had been busy considering the implications of this military presence, he was not so distracted as to miss a very tall, very familiar human heading his way. Seeing how he'd spent at least a portion of his night with Dean, it was only natural that he'd end up running into Sam soon after. At this point, he preferred speaking with them separately, seeing how their first joint conversation here had not gone well

[allroadslead]

Sam hesitated. He nudged out the chair with his leg and sat down. He had to admit that Castiel didn't ring any of the usual bells, not the way demons or even the Trickster did. Was it because they'd met before? There was something different, that was for sure. He couldn't put his finger on it.

Of course, there'd been something different about Madison, too, and look how that turned out.

Anyway, Castiel wasn't hostile or anything right now, so whatever suspicions Sam maintained, he didn't feel right acting any way other than the conventional standard of distantly polite.

"Right, so. A couple of days ago, I saw you talking to someone I recognized," he began. "I know him as the Trickster." He paused before asking bluntly, "What is he, really? I mean, is he...?"

Could he take Castiel's word on this? Under most circumstances, not without verifying it, but honestly, the shadows were verification enough. It fit, didn't it? The way the Trickster had reacted was pretty strong evidence. He remembered the guy being a decent actor, but not

[poorexample]

Of all the things Castiel had predicted that Sam would bring up, somehow "The Trickster" hadn't one of them. He really should have expected as much, since as far as the Winchesters knew at this point, Gabriel was some sort of unstoppable, malicious force; that did describe him adequately well, considering how he'd been behaving, but...

This was the sort of thing that would be hard to explain when Sam and Dean would not even take his own word at face value, but perhaps this would actually help them to trust him. If he let them know what Gabriel truly was, surely they would have to trust him first. They "knew" Gabriel better than they knew him, but they also had had worse experiences with him, seeing how his brother had decided to play God in his own way.

He wasn't sure how the arch-angel could call him immature or inexperienced when he was the one who'd decided to flee Heaven and act like he was capable of so much more than their Father

[allroadslead]

The more Sam watched Castiel, the more his curiosity grew. He looked just like Michael, but he was different-Michael had been pretty straightforward, nothing about him that seemed, well. Off was the only word he could come up with, however inadequate. Human?

Maybe that was the word he was looking for.

And what had been the point of bringing in Michael? Did the stuff he'd been told have anything to do with Castiel, or were the two only related insofar as they looked alike? He remembered the Trickster's shadow had brought up the name Michael, too. That couldn't be a coincidence.

Sam frowned, but his thoughts were chased away as soon as Castiel confirmed what he realized now he'd known ever since that night. Despite that, though, he couldn't help but furrow his brows in disbelief. Shit.

For a moment, his mind blanked. Seriously, he wasn't even-

But they were long past the whole maybe it's not true deal. Way, way long past. If he came up with anymore excuses as to why he shouldn't buy it, that would be exactly what they were: excuses

[poorexample]

Generally, Sam was better at hiding his inner feelings than Dean, which might explain why Castiel had had an easier time getting to know the older brother. In this case, however, Sam's reaction was clearly etched on his face. It was, in fact, a good thing; he might actually be getting through to him.

Though were was something about all of this that stood out, and that was the question of how Sam had come to this conclusion in the first place. Gabriel would have never spilled his true identity to the Winchesters willingly. He'd been bothered enough by being found out in the first place, so why would he squander a chance to once again hide who he was?

Then again, Gabriel might have realized that he would eventually tell them either way, and had decided to come clean because of that. That still didn't seem entirely correct as far as Castiel was concerned, but

[allroadslead]

Sam had expected Castiel to ask him how he'd learned about the Trickster-or Gabriel, he guessed it was now-but it seemed Castiel wasn't interested in that. He couldn't decide if it made the angel more suspicious or less so. Was Castiel just not interested in the hows and whys? It seemed that way, unless Gabriel had spoken to him about the shadows which could've happened. He had no way of predicting these two, after all, not even the Trickster anymore. Whatever he thought he knew, it'd been chucked out the window as of thirty seconds ago.

Square one it was, then.

He started to ask how an angel could ever leave Heaven-but what Castiel said next snapped his mouth shut again. If he'd been staring before, he was more than staring now. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, whatDid he-he did just say that, right? That Dean came back from hell, rescued by an angel? Normally, Sam would've analyzed the piece of information, but his brain had apparently short-circuited. What the hell was he supposed to think? Dean was dead. He'd been dead for nearly

[poorexample]

All things considered, Sam's reaction wasn't that out of the ordinary. He was still at a point where he believed that his brother's death would be permanent; as far as Castiel had been informed, he had more or less given up on him returning, at least for a time. It was hard to believe that Sam would have let it lie even if Dean hadn't been returned to him by other means, but the point was that it made sense that that piece of information had been enough to leave him almost speechless

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Of all the days. Seriously

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As he waited for Sam to answer his question, Castiel continued to watch, having to sidestep at one point to make certain that a piece of sandwich didn't hit him in the chest. He didn't think the objective was to get hit by the projectile food, but he couldn't be certain. Either way, he would rather not participate in something that was likely to lead to retaliation from the staff

[allroadslead]

Okay. They were under the table. It was a sort of (read: very) tight squeeze, but not to the point where it became too weird and uncomfortable. At least they were out of the way, right? Anyway, he'd had worse. Sleeping in the backseat of the Impala, for one

[poorexample]

If Castiel felt cramped in any way under the table, he didn't show it in the slightest. Perhaps it didn't bother him, or maybe he was just so distracted that it didn't register. Either way, he wasn't protesting much to the idea of hiding under a table with Sam Winchester. At this point in time, it was the wisest choice for them to make