Written for Dreamwidth Community Whole New World, Restaurant Table, Prompt #002 Fateful Encounter.
Written for Dreamwidth Community What If AU, Prompt Food Service AU
Part One of the Angel Family Restaurant series.
Castiel came downstairs to the scent of scrambled eggs and bacon. His little sister, Ambriel, sat at the dining room table, a heaping plate before her. She didn't acknowledge his presence since her nose was buried in a thick textbook.
"Test today?" he asked, helping himself to the rest of the food. He sat down at the table.
"How'd you know?" she asked, setting down the book.
He gestured to the food. "Your traditional test day breakfast. Do you think you're prepared?"
"I think so, but it's still difficult. I need to get an A in this class or I won't get into the major!"
Ambriel was in her second year of University with plans to major in business.
"I am confident that you'll do well."
Ambriel smiled shyly. "Thank you, Cas. And thank you for believing in me."
Castiel heard the hesitant tone in her voice. There was only one person who could ever make her doubt herself. "What did she say?"
"Cas…"
"What did Anna say, Ambriel?"
"She reminded me that neither she nor Dean went to college and they're fine, so it wouldn't be a big deal if I failed. I could always learn a trade. I don't want to learn a trade, Cas!"
The entire reason she was now living with him was to get away from that kind of talk. He was sure that Anna meant well, but she was no support for their youngest sibling. She had joined the army right out of high school. Her husband, Dean Winchester, was a self taught mechanic. Neither of them saw importance in higher education.
He called on his patience and took a deep breath. "It would not be a big deal if you failed. We would still love you, and you'd still have a place here. However, going to college was your choice and that's all that matters. I will support you no matter what, Ami."
Ambriel nodded and focused on her plate. They finished breakfast in silence and Castiel vowed to speak with their elder sister.
It wasn't raining, so Castiel decided to walk the mile to his work. He loved this time of day. The restaurant did not open until noon, so by the time he left the morning rush of traffic was over. He could enjoy the peace of his neighborhood.
He thought heard his name called, so he wasn't looking where he was going, when someone ran into him. They almost ended up on the sidewalk.
"I'm so sorry," Castiel said, helping the person regain their balance. He saw that it was a short, dark haired woman. Going by her clothing and appearance, she was a member of the local homeless population.
"Whatever. Watch where you're going," she replied and hurried off.
He frowned, and then continued on to work.
Castiel's Comforting Kitchen was a small restaurant specializing in comfort foods. It wasn't exceptionally popular, but it did modestly well.
Unlocking the door and entering, he found his elder brother, Gabriel, hard at work. Gabriel was head chef and made all the desserts. The smell of baking apple pies filled the kitchen. Gabriel's two assistants were doing the preparation. The restaurant made the meals fresh when ordered, but there was still several hours of prep work before opening.
"How is everything?" he asked.
Gabriel didn't look up from spooning cookie dough onto a baking sheet. "We're running low on grits and flour."
"Enough to get through…"
"You need to order today, and we might be out for a day or two."
Castiel bit back a retort. Gabriel was an excellent chef and did well managing others, but he was horrible at remembering things like when to order supplies.
"Anything else I need to know?" he asked Gabriel.
"Nope. We're fine and will be ready by opening."
Castiel's brother finally looked at him. "You're rumpled. What happened?"
Castiel looked down and saw that his trench coat and suit jacket were wrinkled. Inwardly, he winced, yet didn't let it show on his face. It was a joke among the other members of his family about how Castiel liked to be neat and clean at all times.
"I ran into somebody. I'd better get ready for opening. Good job, everybody."
In his tiny office he hung his trench coat up and settled down to get the business portion of his day out of the way. He loved his restaurant, but he preferred to be in the kitchen. Ambriel planned on eventually taking over that aspect of the restaurant. She had even mentioned expanding into a franchise. The idea was daunting.
That evening he wandered into the main restaurant area. The dinner rush hadn't begun yet so only a few customers were there. One of them was Bobby. Bobby was a regular and seated at the corner table he preferred. Castiel's head waitress, Charlie Bradbury, passed with a tray of chili and corn bread, and set it in front of Bobby. Another regular, Balthazar, was sitting with a plate of fried chicken and some cheese grits. A couple who he had never seen before were enjoying plates of meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes. Everybody looked calm and content, the ultimate goal of his restaurant. He wanted people to come in, enjoy delicious food, and leave peaceful and happy.
He went into the kitchen and the chefs looked at each other and grinned. Gabriel set a tray of pastry into the oven and grinned.
"We know that look Little Bro. You need to cook. What's it going to be today?"
"Macaroni and Cheese with bread crumb topping," he informed them, heading to the sink to wash his hands.
For the next hour he carefully boiled the pasta, prepared the heavy cheese sauce, and put the casserole together. Nobody disturbed him. They knew that this was a sort of meditation for him. Food was a personal thing, and he put care into each and every part. Soon the cheesy scent was added to the other smells of the kitchen.
"I put up the sign that tonight's special was Cas' Mac and Cheese and people are already lining up," Charlie reported.
Castiel held back a grin. All of the recipes used were his own, but everybody claimed that the food tasted better when he actually prepared it himself.
"Pair it with the garlic bread and garden salad," he ordered.
"If they don't want the salad?"
"Corn on the cob."
Charlie nodded and went back to her duties.
Castiel nodded for Gabriel to join him and they went into his office.
"This business or family?" Gabriel asked.
When they began working together they realized they'd have to keep their familial relationship separate from the job. Gabriel still called him "Little Bro," but, unless otherwise stated, their relationship was boss and employee when on restaurant grounds.
"Family."
Gabriel sighed and sat down on the chair in front of the desk. "What did Anna do now?"
"You heard?"
"No. But it's either Anna or Raphael, and since he has not spoken to us in ten years..."
"She and Dean were once again trying to convince Ambriel to discontinue university."
Gabriel ran his hands over his face. "You know I don't like to get into family drama, Cassie. It's the whole reason I moved out here."
"I am well aware of your extreme tendency to avoid conflict," Castiel said, letting old bitterness into his voice.
Gabriel stared at him. "And I'm aware of your extreme need to help others and fix everything."
"There's nothing you have to do except support Ambriel. I'll speak to Anna, tell her to back off, and inform her Dean has no place to talk about this family."
"He's her husband and he was once your best friend. When are you going to—"
"When he apologizes," Castiel interrupted and grabbed his coat. "I'm going home early."
"Say hi to Ami for me," Gabriel said wearily, leaving.
Castiel reached into his pocket for his wallet and found it missing. He knew for a fact that he had placed it there that morning. A quick scan of his office showed no sign of it.
Then he remembered the run in he had that morning, and he suspected that was where his wallet went.
It was pouring down rain when he left his restaurant but he still methodically searched the alleys nearby. He finally found her huddled underneath a torn tarp a few blocks away.
"I believe you have something that belongs to me," he said, keeping his tone calm but firm. He had no idea if she was violent, and he did not want to provoke her.
She reached into her pocket, pulled out the wallet, and tossed it to him. He looked inside. His credit cards were still there, as were his photos.
"I spent the cash," she said.
"On what?"
She didn't reply and pulled a paper bag closer to her. Curious, he reached for it. She held it to her chest.
"Technically, it is mine since it was my money," he said and took the bag from her. He was expecting bottles or cans of alcohol. Instead, inside was a bag of beef jerky, a few pepperoni sticks, a small jar of peanut butter, a box of crackers, a packet of wet wipes, and a box of tampons. The sight made him feel an ache in his chest. He studied her, taking in how thin she was. Her clothing was filthy and torn and didn't fit properly. The cold rain soaked her, and she was shivering slightly. She didn't seem violent or insane, simply beat down and resigned to her fate.
"Are you an addict?" he finally asked.
"No," she replied.
"Alcoholic? Gambler?"
"Not all of us are here because of vices," she said bitterly.
"Why are you here?"
"Because home was worse."
He really didn't want to think about what could be worse than living on the streets and resorting to stealing.
"What's your name?"
"Meg," she said after a few moments of hesitation.
"I'm Castiel Angel," he paused and made a decision. "If you come with me I can take you someplace dry and warm."
"I'm not going to one of those damn shelters."
"It is not a shelter."
It was stupid. It was whole levels of stupid as of yet unexplored until now. Yet about twenty minutes later Castiel was unlocking his door and letting Meg into his house.
"You live here?" she asked, standing just inside the door, her arms tightly wrapped around herself.
"Yes. It is me and my little sister. She will be home later." He took off his coat and hung it on its proper hook. "I'll be a moment."
He went to the laundry room and pulled his charity bag out of the cupboard. He was always collecting clothes and toys to donate. He found some pants and a few shirts that looked to be Meg's size.
"Here," he said, returning to her.
She took the clothes with raised eyebrows and he led her to the downstairs bathroom. "Feel free to get clean, and do not worry about the hot water. Towels and soap are in the cupboard," he told her.
"I..." she gave him a long look and then nodded, a strange, resigned look on her face. Entering the bathroom she closed the door and he heard the lock click.
Going into the kitchen he took out the makings of spaghetti and meatballs. The meatballs were frozen, but he had made them himself a few weeks earlier. The sauce was from scratch, of course, and he added extra vegetables to make it healthier. Fresh garlic bread and a simple salad completed the meal.
He heard the bathroom door open and went down the hall. Meg stepped out, still damp but this time looking clean and warm. The clothes he had given her fit well.
"If you put your dirty clothes by the hamper I'll make sure they're washed." Truthfully they should just be thrown away, but that was not his choice.
"Thank you," she said.
"Dinner is almost ready. I hope that you like spaghetti."
She nodded and looked down. "All right. I suppose you want your payment now."
"Payment?" he asked, confused. He had not mentioned any payment to her.
"Yeah." She reached for his belt and began to unfasten it.
"No," he said, pushing her hands away when he realized what she meant to do. "No. Meg, I expect nothing in return from you, much less payment in the form of you body."
"So you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" she asked, crossing her arms and sounding skeptical.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"You are in need and it is within my capabilities to help you. I like helping people." Meg looked away and he could see that what he said was warring with her world view. "Would you like some spaghetti? I made it myself."
She was silent for a few moments before very quietly saying "Spaghetti sounds good."
Meg ate with a speed that worried him. He said nothing about her lack of manners, knowing that this was her first true meal in a very long time. Instead he kept refilling her plate. After her third helping she set down her fork.
"That was very good."
"Thank you."
"Now what? You've fed me and let me clean up. Is it time for me to leave?"
He set his fork down and sat back. "I've been thinking about that. The first thing you need it a roof over your head. I have an apartment above my garage. It's nothing fancy, but it is shelter. The only rule I would have is no drinking or drugs." He paused and then added "or prostitution."
She bristled. "I'm not a whore. I'm a survivor."
"I understand," he said gently. "But I have a better way for you to survive. I own a restaurant and I would like you to work there. Janitorial. No, it's not very fun but it will put money in your pocket. I'd take your rent and utilities out of your check automatically, so everything you get would be yours."
Meg let out an incredulous laugh. "You just met me, I stole from you, and now you're offering me a job and a place to live? Are you crazy?"
He smiled slightly. "No. I just sense that you're a good person, and like I said, I like helping people. Will you accept?"
The front door opened and Ambriel walked in. She saw them seated at the table and dropped her book bag.
"Castiel...and a woman? My brother and a pretty woman alone together... Oh my god, it finally happened! Okay, I'm sorry for interrupting—"
"Ami, sit," he said. He waited until she was settled before continuing. "This is Meg, and she will be our new tenant."
"Oh. Where?"
"The apartment."
His sister's eyes widened and a look of deep compassion crossed her face. "Cas..."
He held up his hand to silence anything she would say. "It's fine and about time."
"What's going on? Look, I don't want to put anybody out," Meg said.
"You're not. It's fine."
After Ambriel had eaten dinner and disappeared upstairs, Castiel put the leftovers into a tub and grabbed a key from the kitchen junk drawer. He left Meg out the back door and up the garage staircase.
"Here. Go ahead and unlock it," he said, handing her the key.
She did and stepped inside. The apartment was small. The main room had a bed, dresser, TV, table, two chairs, a microwave, and a mini fridge.
"Blankets and a sleeping bag are in the closet. They're clean. I know it's not much but—"
"But it's mine? All of it?" she asked, uncertainty sounded in her voice.
"Yes. This is yours now, Meg. That's the only key. I promise nobody will enter without your express permission. Including me."
She smiled, a genuine smile, and it lit up her whole face. It wiped away any lingering doubt about the situation.
He handed her the tub of leftovers. "You are welcome to join us for meals, even after you get your paycheck, if you wish."
"Thanks," she said, taking the tub.
"Breakfast is at seven, and then I'll take you to work so you can fill out the proper paperwork. Goodnight."
He walked down the staircase, feeling content. He had done a good thing. Though he couldn't quite explain it, he felt as though he were meant to help Meg.
That good feeling lessened when he realized he would have to explain the situation to his family. That, however, could wait until tomorrow.