TW: Domestic abuse

"This game isn't working Dean..." muttered the dark haired, blue eyed boy who stood in the center of the lawn with both arms stretched out like the wings of an angel. As soon as the words escaped the four year old's mouth, his friend's gaze locked upon him as he forced a pout to jut out his lower lip.
"Why not?" he questioned, managing to keep himself from running as he made his way over to Castiel.
"If you're tagging me, to make me freeze like this, there's no one to unfreeze me." Cas' words were laced with the sound of hushed, childish laughter as he gave his head a weak shake.
"Oh...well...I'll unfreeze you!" Dean cheered, his hand darting forwards to have it hand collide with the smaller boy's chest. Castiel simply reached out, his hand resting against the top of Dean's arm and tapping at it instead of running off.
"We...we could play in the sand pit for a while?" he suggested quietly.
"Race you there!" Dean's already impaired speech faded before he finished his sentence due to already racing across the garden towards where the sand box sat.

Time passes as fast as the buzzing bees of this year's spring but the two boys didn't notice dinner time approaching whilst building the best castle they could by pouring the contents of Dean's mother's watering can onto the sand.
"Dean, come inside, sweetheart! Dinner is ready!" the comforting voice of his mother called across the garden from the doorway. Pushing himself up to his feet, Dean's emerald vision flicked from his angelic mother to his distracted friend who remained in his seat.
"Mommy, can Castiel come for dinner, please?" yelling at the top of his voice, Dean questioned his mother in the sweetest of tones. His mother replied with a soft nod as melodic laughter spilt from her blithely curved lips.
"Cas, Cas! Come on, you're having dinner with me!" Dean shot his best friend a broad and goofy grin; one of his bottom teeth still hadn't grown back since losing it over a month ago.

The coat clad boy who went by the nickname 'Cas' rose to his feet before wandering after his friend who was already running across the yard as fast as he could in the most excited manner. Entering the house not long after Dean, Cas looked around at the pristine kitchen; it's calm, pastel colours, the caring mother who dished out food and the goofy child that gulped down the remaining contents of the milk carton.
"I made pie for dinner today, your favourite if I remember correctly." Dean's mother smiled as Dean clambered up onto a selected chair, eagerly drumming his digits against the table top whilst cheering in response. Castiel took the seat beside his best friend, calm blue eyes following Dean's line of sight to be lead to a toy car in the middle of the table.
"Mommy, is that for me? That, right there." he asked, a grubby finger pointing towards the miniature vehicle.
"Yes, you can have a look at it but no playing until you've eaten all your dinner."
"Did you hear that Cas? I got a car! We can play with it after, me and you can!" he beamed over to his friend who had been playing with the hem of his overly large coat.

Mary walked over to the table with a plate in each hand, placing one in front of Dean and the other just beside it which Dean then pushed in front of Castiel. Once she had left the room, Dean threw himself across the table to grab the car and examine it.
"Im-Im...Cas, what does it say?" he spoke aloud with his mouth overflowing with chunks of chewed chicken and the pastry of the pie. Cas politely took the toy from within Dean's grasp to have a look at what was written on the underside.
"Impala. It's an Impala, Dean." a shy smile twitched at his lips as he gave his friend the toy back before going back to staring blankly at the wedge of pie in front of him- he wasn't exactly hungry and he'd been to polite and shy to put down the offer. Dean simply continued to shovel mouthful after mouthful of his helping into his mouth whilst pushing the toy Impala around.

After a short while had past and Dean was almost finished his food, there was a creek of the front door which was soon followed by a harsh slam. Whilst Castiel chose to ignore the muffled conversation happening in the hall, he watched the discomfort that covered Dean's boyish features with the look of sadness; a small frown upon his lips whilst his brow furrowed.
"Really, John? You've been drinking again! -No, you're drunk, don't try telling me otherwise." Dean had stopped eating once he heard his mother's voice echo through the house in a shrilled shout, the hand that had held his fork had fallen just to have Castiel take hold of it. Gripping onto his friend's hand, Dean continued to push the car around on top of the table though this time, it as at a slower pace.
"Just leave him be, he's eating." the words of Dean's mother were followed by the slurred speech of his dad, something about having a right and being able to see his son whenever he wanted to.
Dean could imagine his mother going to speak before the shattering smash of a vase was followed by the sharp crack of a slap which was then finished off with the thud of a landing body. Dean's lower lip began to quiver as the lazy thuds of his father's walk grew louder which then caused Cas to give his hand a comforting squeeze.

"Dean!" John's powerful voice battered Dean's eardrums when he entered the kitchen. Castiel shuffled from his own seat onto the chair Dean sat on - luckily there was room for two children their size - and kept a firm hold on Dean's trembling hand. "Dean, answer me when I talk to you." his dad's voice was now stern and threatening.
"Sorry daddy..." he kept his gaze low, listening to his father stroll sluggishly towards the table and slump into the chair opposite him and Castiel; who per usual was as silent as a mime.
"What're you doing, Dean?" he always sounded so strict when using Dean's name.
"Eating dinner with Cas so that we can play cars..." mumbled Dean in reply, he could smell the alcohol that lingered around his father's broad frame.
"Cas?"
"Castiel, my best friend. Remember? He stays here a lot because he doesn't like the orphanage he lives in..." Dean's thumb began to play with the sleeve of Cas' brown jacket.
"Oh no, not this again." he was monotone, solemn.
"Not what?" John's son furrowed his brow in utter confusion.
"This Castiel business, Dean, I'm not putting up with it. Castiel is not real!" he bellowed, his words striking Dean sharply in the chest.
"He...he is...he's just shy, that's all..." the small boy stuttered and choked on his words, feeling the grip Castiel had on his hand loosen.
"Look! He isn't there!" he was practically growling and an angered fist smashed against the table top. Dean did as he was told and turned his head, expecting to be greeted by the naturally saddened features of his friend but all he found was an empty seat and a meal which was cold and untouched.
"You- you scared him away! He's shy!" shouting was the worst mistake Dean made that day.
With a loud crack, both Dean and his toy had cascaded to the floor in a brutal manner, the side of his head throbbing immensely.

Mary had changed Dean into his favourite pyjamas; the light blue ones which were decorated with the stars and all the planets he could name, along with those he couldn't before tucking him into bed. She didn't look as bad as last time, the mark on her cheek was only pink instead of purple and blue. Dean's head still throbbed every now and then, especially when he turned too quick or tried to look around by only moving his eyes.

Once silence had fallen, Dean peeled back his duvet to silently climb out of bed. He retrieved his toy impala from upon his bedside table before tucking it into the breast pocket of his button up pyjama top and wandering towards the window. Hoisting himself up onto the chest of toys, he was then able to climb up onto the windowsill and undo the single latch that held the window shut. Slowly pushing the window open so that it didn't creek too much, Dean made sure that the gap was large enough for him to climb through. Leaning back, he swiped up his fluffy, navy dressing gown which he then pulled on before tying the matching belt around his waist into an awful attempt of a bow. Returning to the open window, Dean began to make his way onto the large and steady branch that lead to the tree house John had made during what Dean liked to call 'his happy days'. When he'd reached the window, he stealthily dropped down to the wooden panel floor before being greeted by a whispering voice and the blinding beam of a flashlight.
"Dean?" it was Castiel. The blue eyed boy was huddled in a blanket in the corner of the tree house; the wind came in at all angles. Castiel would stay in the tree house when he didn't want to go home to the orphanage and wasn't able to stay over at Dean's.
"Hey, I brought my car so we could play...I'm sorry about my daddy..." Dean wandered towards his friend, settling down on the floor in front of his blanket clad form before pulling the small impala out from beneath the robe that crossed at his chest, placing it into Castiel's small hand that peeked our from beneath the blanket.

The blanket soon fell from over Cas' frame, revealing the clothes he'd been wearing all day and to Dean's guesses, he was to sleep in and wear the next day.
Castiel was simply examining the car with a gentle touch, not wanting to break the toy by accident as his finger traced the silver detail of each wheel or when he skimmed his fingers across the smooth, night blue paint job.
"Cas?" Dean's hushed voice questioned as he watched the actions of his friend with sleep glazed, laurel eyes which were soon met by the oceanic gaze of the other boy.
"Yuhuh?" his speech was lazy which was unusual, Cas was the child that spoke properly, it was always Dean who spoke lazily or too fast.
"When you ran off, after daddy started shouting...he said you weren't real...you're real, aren't you?" Dean's eyes were sparkling with hope, silently pleading for his only friend's existence to be real. A smile curled Castiel's lips but because Dean was so used to painting a happy picture over the horrible things in life, he saw the smile his friend wore as one of laughter and not one of sadness.
"No, I'm not..." Dean's heart dropped as he took Cas' words seriously but all horror was erased as his friend threw his forearm over his face, the baggy sleeve of his coat hiding his features whilst he mimicked the sounds of a ghost. A broad grin broke onto Dean's features, the gaps between a few of his teeth were now filled with childish giggles whilst he reached forwards to pull Castiel's arm from over his face. He must be real if he could feel him, and his mother saw him...he must be.
"Come stay in my room, mummy won't mind." Dean offered as Castiel passed the toy over to him by pushing it across the wooden floorboards of the tree house.
"What if she gets mad?" Castiel wasn't one for arguing and he honestly didn't want to right now, he didn't like leaving Dean alone, especially when John was home. No matter how much John scared him.
"She won't, she likes you." Dean stood up whilst grasping hold of Cas' hand to pull him towards the window with him. "You gotta be careful climbing across here, though."
Both boys climbed out of the glassless window before crawling along the large branch towards the warm glow of Dean's night light that shone through the window of Dean's room.

Once they'd entered the room and Dean had pulled the window shut, both him and Cas hurried to climb beneath the warm covers of Dean's bed to lay side by side, their heads sinking into the large pillows beneath them. Dean turned on his side whilst Cas turned the opposite way, each one of them hugging the duvet close to them though Dean felt warmer than Cas, as though an extra layer hovered over his form protectively but this was something that didn't cover Castiel, though he was aware of this warmth. Because in his mind, he could see the silky, ink black feathers that enveloped his best friend's sleepy figure, making sure that no harm would come to Dean whilst both their eyes were shut for the night.