"How is your medication working?" her voice is low, carrying the same soothing lull as always. The one that's supposed to make him focus, but all it ever does is make him sleepy.
"Good," he answers. Tells her what she wants to hear, he's getting better, just like she promised he would.
"And your exercises?" Another question. Inquiring about his daily jog around the garden. The one she recommended, it'll reduce the negative symptoms. For one he actually likes the jogging, it's more relaxing then the group sessions, more natural than the medication. He likes the garden too, a privilege he earned a while back. The grass there is greener than the grass at home, but the flowers are similar. They remind him of Anna. How he used to take her by the hand, and they would go out back to smell them.
"Are they helping?" He's taking to long to answer, she's getting impatient. Funny how she can sound so intimidating yet so calm at the same time.
"Yes."
"And how are you?"
He looks away, watches his fingers play with the frayed edges of his hoodie sleeve. It's a loaded question. She's not asking about him, she's asking about the voices. Are they silent? Have they let him go? Can he function like a normal person yet?
"How are you feeling?"
They're not gone completely, but they're quieter, hushed whispers skimming over his earlobe, but he can ignore that. So he's better then. He's good.
On the other hand, there was the incident at group. He'd heard Al. Al had said something, had mocked him. Called him 'Kookie Cassie', just like in the old days. But that was impossible because Al wasn't there. Al was at home, like a normal person.
"Castiel?"
He blinks, breaks out of the trance, "I'm good."
She's talking again. Rambling on about something, but he doesn't listen. He's heard it all a hundred times before. Take your medication, it will help. Do your exercises, they will help. Keep it up Castiel you're doing really well. Until, finally she say something new, something unexpected. He looks up startled, because she's rarely ever said it before.
"What?" Surely he'd miss heard. He'd imagined it, wouldn't be so unusual.
But she's smiling at him, nice and soft, "Your mother is coming over tomorrow."
"To see me?" he asks, feeling odd. Should he be happy? He doesn't feel happy.
"Yes Castiel, she's taking you home. We're letting you go," Then she stretches her hand over the desk and places it over his. He fights the instinct to jump away and lets her hold him.
...
The car is the same. Sleek and grey on the outside. Spotless and leather on the inside.
His mother is the same. Prim suit without a crease, expression stern and solid. She'd tried to put him in the backseat like an invalid. Doctor Mills, there to see him off, suggested otherwise.
"Treat him like he's normal," she'd murmured quietly into her ear. He wasn't supposed to hear, but he did anyway. Always hearing things he's not supposed to hear.
Now he's in the front seat, hands folded in his lap, forehead pressed against the window. Like a normal person. He likes watching the trees flick by along the highway. Likes that he can no longer see Cloudy Falls Mental Institution in the rearview mirror. Likes that he's never gonna have to follow the instructions of a bullshit orderly ever again. That is, if he doesn't mess up again.
"We're having beef for dinner tonight," his mother says, not taking her eyes off the road. It's the first thing she's said to him since the hospital. He doesn't really understand why she bothers. Never did in the past.
"Okay." Maybe Doctor Mills suggested it.
"Michael said he'll stop by. He wants to see you." She'd listen to Doctor Mills.
"Okay." Would scrub him down from head to toe with a cabbage leaf if Doctor Mills said it would help.
"You'll start school again on Monday," She sounds hesitant. Maybe she should be. Who knows when his next psychotic break will happen. Best if it wasn't in public.
Doctor Mills probably suggested school as well, wants him to feel as 'normal' as possible. What other reason was there, he'd missed to much to pass the year anyway.
"Okay, Mom."
The rest of the journey is silent. For the most part.
...
Anna, Gabriel, and Rachel are all standing on the front porch when they pull in. A banner is flailing between his brother and his maid as they cheer for him when he steps out of the car. 'Welcome Home Cas!' They're beaming at him and it makes him smile. The first time he's done so since Crowley stabbed a nurse with a fork at lunch time.
Arms envelope him in hugs and he's not even halfway up the drive way. He almost forgets to feel uncomfortable as they invade his personal space.
...
The only notable difference since his departure is that Anna's taller than Gabriel. Something that makes Anna erupt in giggles, and Gabriel pout when he points it out. Other than that everything is the same. The house is the same, the furniture is the same, his room is the same. Gabriel still likes to joke (he's particularly fond of the monograms stitched into all of Cas' clothes), Anna's hair is still a vibrant red, Rachel's eyes are still kind. When Michael arrives later that evening, he still has that same air of superiority.
...
Dinner starts out nicer than it ends. Michael talks about his life in Kansas University. He has a girlfriend now. Anna talks about her art class, and how Mrs Barns says she's her best student. She has a boyfriend now. Gabriel talks about the school baseball team and how they haven't lost a game yet this season. He doesn't have a girlfriend, but apparently that's not stopping him from getting laid. Judging from the face she makes their mother doesn't approve of these habits, but it makes Castiel smile.
Finally when everyone is done catching him up a wary silence falls over them. He's the only one who hasn't told any stories yet, but they don't want to push him into any repressed memories.
They know, a distinguishable whisper speaks up, They know you're a freak.
He ignores it. Cuts a bite of his stake.
"So, bro," of course, if anyone were to break the silence.
"Gabriel, don't talk with your mouth full," A warning from the mother, blatantly ignored.
"What was it like in the cuckoo's nest?"
Everyone tenses, holding their forks the slightest bit tighter.
Castiel looks up from his plate, blue eyes calm. Then shrugs, "I made a friend."
Gabriel chortles, "Oh yeah? What's that like?"
"Gabriel," she sounds stern, but she's ignored again. Anna and Michael exchange looks.
"Her name's Meg. She thinks she's a demon, and that my other friend, Crowley, 's out to get her." Rachel comes out from the kitchen and starts collecting the empty plates. He slides his fork through what's left of his mashed potatoes.
"Hmm," Gabriel hums, leaning forward onto one elbow, "Was he?"
Castiel shrugs again, "Maybe. Crowley has temper issues. He punched me once."
This starts Anna, her wide brown eyes get even wider, "Why?!"
"Well, to be fair I punched him first."
Gabriel starts laughing again, and Michael looks a bit calmer now that he knows his brother isn't going to go nuclear all over the dinner table. Even Rachel is smiling a little as she walks around the table. Their mother however looks less than thrilled.
"Why'd you punch him?" Gabriel asks through his laughing.
"He kissed me, and I didn't like it. Then Meg called us Fags."
Gabriel's laughter dies, and everyone else stops smiling.
"It's okay though, Doctor Mills fixed the whole physical contact problem. I don't punch people for touching me anymore."
Very abruptly Naomi Milton stands up from her spot at the table, and sends a glare at each of them, especially Gabriel, "Rachel, we're finished with dinner."
Then she walks away, leaving her children in an awkward silence. Castiel looks down at his lap, feeling guilty.
You fucked it up again, Cassie.
...
They finish up the night with a walk around the neighborhood. Just the four of them, Castiel, Anna, Gabriel, and Michael. It's nice, like the old times. A breeze runs through the street ruffling his hair, making it even messier.
The weather is just starting to warm up again, but the night air is cool. Castiel feels chilled in his hoodie, but not enough to go back. He'd forgotten how grand their neighborhood really was while he was away. All the large houses illuminated by their ground lights, making them even more dramatic. He'd always enjoyed the houses in his neighborhood, all of them so majestic every one unique.
Then he spots something at then end of the street and stops.
"What's up?" Anna asks. They'd all stopped with him. Looking at him cautiously again. Treating him like a china plate again.
"The Campbell house. Someone's moved in?" For as long as he can remember the house had been empty. It'd always been his favorite. Something about its castle like appearance captivated him. It was the oldest house in the neighborhood. He could feel it's age through the walls, weighing it down like storm cloud.
Anna looks tense, and it's his fault. And the house's. His brothers exchange looks. They all look uncomfortable, he's making them uncomfortable. He understands the emotion of course, why they were feeling it.
"Uh yeah," Michael says finally, before taking Anna by the shoulder and pushing her forward. He ushers them past the house as fast as possible.
...
The next three days go by much faster than any day spent at the hospital. He finally has things to keep him occupied. Books, internet, catching up with Rachel, her kid started elementary school this year. He jogs consistently every morning, eying the now occupied Campbell house each time he runs by. Occasionally he spots movement behind a window.
Michael left back to college the morning after his return. He'd placed a heavy hand onto Castiel's shoulder in goodbye. And Castiel grit his teeth, accepted the farewell. The fact that he'd returned on a Thursday meant that Anna and Gabriel were off schooling as well. This left him alone with Rachel and his mother. They hadn't wanted to leave him alone just yet.
He doesn't mind. His mother sticks mostly to the office space anyway (when she's not busy checking up on him). And Rachel minds her own business.
He wanders the house a little bit, re-familiarizing himself after being away for nine and a half months. He's surprised to find most of the rooms comforting, after spending most of his childhood running away from them. Gabriel's room is messy as always, despite Rachel's struggles. Its large expanse appears much smaller under all of his clutter. On the other hand, there's a lot less pink in Anna's room then there was before. It amuses him what the switch from middle school to high school has done to his sister. She still has plenty of plants though. He spares a moment to sniff one of the flower pots.
He's not sure if going into his mothers room is a good idea, but he goes in anyway. Slower than he does with the other rooms. All the blinds over the windows are closed, casting the room into a grey light. Much like everything other than Gabriel's room, it's neat and clean though he thinks that his mother's room would be clean regardless if Rachel was working for them or not.
He can't help sighing as his eyes scan the room. This room had remained off putting. It makes a shiver crawl up his back. He feels something weird curling inside him as his eyes halt at the creaked door leading to the bathroom. Everything flashes red for a moment.
It's dark in there. Darker than the rest of the rooms. It's colder too. He can feel it. Something cold reaching out and swirling around him. A hand coming towards him to pull him in. Everything flashes red again, like a blood splatter.
Something loud burst in his head and an entire chorus of voices start screaming. One rings clearer than the others.
GET OUT, CASTIEL!
The room flashes again and he closes his to breath. Just like Doctor Mills had taught him.
GET OUT! COVER YOUR EYES!
The breathing's not working. It's coming out shaky. The yelling continues. Ricocheting off the insides of his mind.
CASTIEL!
He hears himself grunt. It's flashing red behind his eyelids now. Like a strobe light, and the chorus is still screaming at him. Calling him. Yelling at him. Warning him.
"Castiel?" a real voice. The others cut off. It's abrupt and he's startled by the quiet.
His eyes shoot open and he spins around to face Rachel, She's standing at the entrance of the room, holding her basket of cleaning supplies. She looks worried, and he knows its his fault. He's causing her to worry. He's not even her son.
"Sorry Rachel," he says as he brushes past her, leaving the room behind. He shouldn't have gone in there.
...
Finally it's Sunday. His last day before school. All of his plans are pushed back because his mother insisted they all go to church that day. That was something he'd forgotten about while at Cloudy Falls. Church wasn't a mandatory activity there.
He never really liked church. Not that he didn't believe in God (not that he did). He also liked the architecture of the church itself so that wasn't a problem either. The aspect of church that he didn't like, was the one person standing at the front of the room teaching them, and commanding them. Imparting onto them knowledge that he believes is false. One singular stranger telling them what to do and what not to do. Castiel had enough strangers, real and imaginary alike, commanding him. He didn't need another one. His mother didn't understand though. She'd long since stopped dragging the other children along, but not him. Still desperately trying to save him, from something.
Father Zachariah is still the head of the church, and he stands at front of the pews wearing the same smarmy smile he always had. Once everyone is seated he starts by singling him out, dedicating the service to him. For a moment everyone stares at Castiel and claps for him, welcome him back home, and wishing him the best. They marvel at Father Zachariah's generosity. How caring he is to everyone, even the local crazy kid. His mother looks straight at him for once, and she's clapping too. Smiling. Buying the act like everyone else.
It's torture, and all Castiel wants is to disappear. He hates all the eyes on him, and someone inside him is hissing. He closes his eyes and tries to will it away.
When he finally gets home he's tired and ready to be alone. He contemplates skipping his jog that day as he flops onto his bed still wearing his Sunday best. Then he thinks of Doctor Mills, reminding him that having a routine is healthy for someone with his problems. That breaking an already established routine could only cause more.
He gets up with a sigh, and walks to his closet pulling out his shorts and a fresh t-shirt. No doubt that the neighborhood is going to be livelier now as well. This meant more unwanted attention for him. Everyone always stares when he's around.
"Have fun," Anna says as he walks by where she's sitting on the couch reading. He waves at her before walking out the door.
He'd been right to assume that people would be out and about. He passes several dog walkers and there are lots of children hanging around, riding their bikes or tossing a ball around. Even hears a lawn mower purring as he passes the Campbell house.
His curiosity bites, and he backtracks. Paces back to the front gate and peaks in, tries to catch a glimpse of the new inhabitant.
The motor sounds louder from this point but he still cant see anyone, for a second he wonders if he'd imagined something again.
Then. The mower cuts off and he tenses.
"Hey!"
Nearly has a heart attack, and tries to find the source of the voice. It had come from inside the gate.
That's when he sees him. Through the gate, standing behind a hedge, leaning on a lawn mower. He's young, with honey colored hair and sweaty clothes. His face is creased, a reaction to the sun most likely. He's staring. Castiel squirms.
"What you looking at," the guy grunts. Castiel looks away, chooses to stare at his sneakers.
"I'm not looking." Stupid.
He hears a snort. Then footsteps. Looks up again, to find a pare of green eyes glaring at him. He's closer to the gate now, face almost pressed to the bars.
"Well what do you want?" He asks. He sounds defensive.
"I was just curious," Castiel says. Choosing the path of honesty, just like Doctor Mills would want him to.
"What the fuck about?"
Castiel blinks, takes in the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. They're prominent on his face, probably from the recently active sun.
"The house, you've moved into it."
The boy's eyebrows furrow, "Yeah no shit, Sherlock."
"No ones lived in it before. I'm just surprised."
"Where the hell have you been this last half a year? Everyone's long since gotten used to us living here." Castiel thinks he sounds funny. The gruff voice doesn't match the sleek body. Like he's purposefully making it deeper to sound manlier.
"I've been away," he tell him. Avoiding the specifics. The idea is appealing. Someone not knowing how cracked he is.
The guy squints his eyes. Then scans him, like he's sizing him up.
Castiel's eyes stray away, back to the house, up the front wall, then to the side. To the large ceramic window, that hadn't been there before.
The guy follows his gaze then nods in understanding. Castiel knows he doesn't.
"So you heard about that then?" He says, turning back to face him.
He knows what he's talking about, but plays dumb anyway, "Heard about what?"
The kid laughs, "You don't know? I thought everyone in this goddamn neighborhood knew. Hell at least twenty of them felt like it was their duty to tell us about it."
"What are you talking about?"
"About a year ago. Some nut snuck in, then jumped out of that window there," he sounds almost proud as he speaks. Like he's glad there's something interesting about his home, "Pushed his sister out with him too. Though, The way I hear it, neither of them got hurt too bad. I've seen the girl, she seems fine. Kind of hot actually, for a ginger."
Castiel fixes his eyes on the other boy. Curious. And he smiles in responce, then gives a not quite apologetic shrug.
"I'm Dean." He says and sticks a hand through the gate. Castiel eyes it, then forces his own hand up to meet his. Dean's grip is tight, and his hands are rough. Castiel lets out a tiny breath to calm himself.
Dean's looking at him expectantly, but he doesn't tell him what he wants to know. Knows he'll be calling him Kookie Cassie along with everyone else very soon. Better to put the day off as long as possible.
"Bye Dean," he says before turning away from the house and running onward, arms rocking at his side.