(Author's Note: This is sort of connected to my story The Littlest Angel, but you don't have to read that for this to make sense.)

Cas came out of Jack's room looking tired and resigned.

"How is he?" Sam asked him.

"I was able to heal his wound," the angel said. "His grace is another matter."

"Was there anything left?"

Cas sighed. "Ten percent."

"Oh, man. Is that enough for it to regenerate?"

"Eventually it will. But it will take a lot of time. Months. In the meantime, he's . . ."

"Human. I get it. You told him that none of this was his fault, right?"

"Of course. I'm just not sure if he believes me."

"I'll talk to him later. We've got some time before dinner, if you wanted to . . . I don't know, watch a movie or something."

"I think I want to be alone for a while."

Sam understood. Cas was upset about Dean as well. "Fine. I'll be in my room. I'll come get you when dinner's ready."

A few hours later, Sam smelled food cooking. He decided that now would be a good time to go and collect Cas from his room. He went up and tapped on the door.

"Cas?" he said, pushing it open a crack. "Sorry to bother you, but—what's that?"

The angel was hiding something brightly colored behind him. "Nothing," he said.

"No, come on, what is it?"

"It's . . ." Cas sighed and pulled a wad of fabric out from behind his back. "It's my baby blanket."

"Baby blanket," Sam repeated.

"I've had it since I was a fledgling."

"I didn't know you had a baby blanket."

"Every night, Gabriel used to tuck me in under this very blanket. Sometimes he would read off the names of the animals to me." Cas pointed to some blobby pictures that probably looked like animals a few million years ago. "Aardvark. Bear. Camel. Deer. Elephant . . . and so on."

"So . . . Gabe took care of you?"

"He was always there. Every day of my life, until I came into my full grace and became a soldier. It was shortly after that that he left. I thought I'd never see him again. And then I found out that he'd been here all this time, pretending to be a Trickster."

"Yeah, that was weird, huh?"

"And then as soon as I had found him, he was gone again. And just when I had gotten used to him being gone, there he was again."

"I think that surprised all of us."

"And now he's gone again. And I don't know if he's really dead this time, or if he'll show up again one day when we least expect it."

"I'm sure if he was still alive, he'd find a way to let us know."

"Unless he can't." Cas sighed and looked down at the blanket balled up in his arms. "He left this for me, after the TV Land incident. I don't know how he got his hands on it-I left it behind in Heaven, and I'm sure if he went back there, we would have known. I've kept it in a pocket dimension since then, but . . . after we came home, I felt like bringing it out. Do you think it's silly? It's a baby blanket-and I'm not a baby anymore."

"Wait here a second," Sam told him, and left the room briefly. When he returned, he was clutching something in one hand.

"This is Mr. Bunny," he said, holding it out. It did look vaguely rabbit-shaped. "Dean pulled this off a store shelf to keep me quiet, and when we got to the register, I wouldn't let it go, so Dad paid for it. But it was Dean who gave it to me. I usually keep it in the trunk, way in the back so it won't get damaged, but when we came home, I . . . I got it out and brought it to my room. I just needed to hold it for a while."

The two looked at each other for a moment, understanding in their eyes. Sometimes you just needed to hold something soft that reminded you of the person you'd lost.

"What did you want," Cas asked, "when you came in?"

"Oh." It took Sam a moment to remember. "Dinner's almost ready. You hungry?"

"Not really," he said, "but I will join you anyway."

"That's a good idea. Let's go see if Jack's ready to come out and eat."

They went to the boy's room and knocked on the door softly. "Jack?" Sam called. "You awake? It's us."

"Yes," he answered. "Come in."

Jack was lying on his bed, but it was still made up, and he had a book in his hands. There was something beside him which Sam thought at first was part of the bedclothes, but then he noticed that it didn't quite match. It was a dark blue flannel . . .

"Is that one of Dean's shirts?"

Jack looked up guiltily. "Yeah. Is that okay? I just . . . I just wanted to hold it for a while."

Sam and Cas looked at each other knowingly.

"That's fine," said Sam.

"We're going to dinner," said Cas, "if you feel up to it."

Jack seemed to be considering the prospect for a moment. "All right," he said, and got up off the bed. He set the book on top of the shirt.

"And when we come back," said Sam, "I'll introduce you to Mr. Bunny."

That night, Jack went to sleep wearing Dean's shirt, clutching Mr. Bunny, and nestled under Cas' blanket. And for once, he had no bad dreams.

Sometimes you just need to touch soft things.