West Coast

Chapter Three

Cas spent the next couple of days going through all the drawers and cupboards in the house, rifling through all of their things in the hopes that something would trigger his memories.

He was in the kitchen one morning, digging through one of the drawers, when he found a battered-looking box. He opened it and found it full of odd, plastic coins. He picked one up and examined it. The centre was taken up by a triangle, and the number 12 in the middle. Words were etched around the edges, that read 'To Thine Own Self Be True' and 'Unity, Service, Recovery'.

'Those are mine.'

Cas jumped, not realising that Dean had entered the room.

'Sorry,' Cas said guiltily, putting the coin back where he'd found it.

Dean shrugged. 'It's not a secret.' He picked up a heavier one. 'This is the latest.'

'Twelve years sober? Wow, congratulations,' Cas smiled. He wanted to ask questions, but kept his mouth shut, for fear of offending Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. 'You can ask me.'

'What?'

'You have a question, I can tell.'

'How?'

'You tilt your head when you're confused or have a question. Like this.' Dean copied his expression and grinned.

Cas smiled back. 'All right. Do you go to meetings?'

Dean nodded. 'Not as much as I used to. Every few weeks or so.'

'Do you have a sponsor?'

'Yeah.'

Cas hesitated, then felt his cheeks warm as he noticed he was head-tilting again. 'Have you ever needed them?' he asked, Dean's short nod reassuring him.

'A couple times.'

'Did I know?'

Dean grimaced. 'You made me call him.'

'Do you want to talk about it?' Cas asked, switching on the coffee machine.

'Do you want to know about it?'

'That's not what I asked.' He poured Dean some coffee, and waited while he thought about it.

'I want to help you fill in the blanks,' Dean said, taking the coffee.

'You can help me fill in mine. You don't have to fill in yours.'

'That doesn't make any sense.'

'You know what I'm trying to say.'

'Yeah, I guess I do.'

Cas went into the dining room and sat down at the table. He was still captivated by the view from the window, and gazed out while he drank his coffee.

'Is there anything else you wanted to ask?' Dean said, sitting opposite him.

'Um...' Cas scrunched up his face. His headache still lingered, waning at times but never fully going away. 'I can't think...' He glanced down at his mug. 'Maybe I shouldn't have caffeine.' He put the mug down, and his head vibrated. He squeezed his palms against his temples.

Dean's voice came to him, muffled at first, but calling his name.

'Maybe you should lie down?' Dean said nervously. 'Should I call your doctor?'

'I had a head injury, Dean, it's not uncommon to suffer headaches afterwards. Can I have some water?'

'Sure.'