15th September, 1994
A small eleven year old boy sat in one of the chairs in the writing room of the Trinity Mother Frances hospital; his dark head bowed in silent prayer as he waited and hoped that everything would turn out alright. He looked up as the doors opened to reveal a young nurse, but she just walked by without a second glance at the rag tag little group huddled by the vending machines. Michael Novak couldn't help the frustrated sigh that escaped his lips at the lack of information.
Michael looked around him at his family. His twin brother, Luce, sat to his right. Luce's straight blond hair, chocolate eyes and sharp features were nothing like Michael's own black hair and blues eyes that coupled perfectly with his angelically soft features, but inside, they were the same; young boys who loved their families more than anything else in their lives, well on their way to becoming men.
Michael's eyes slid over to his left as small fidgety movements caught his eye. Gloria, a round little old woman with much more energy than anyone her age should ever be allowed, was beginning to become restless and Michael understood the feeling. The boy knew that Gloria was just as worried about his mom as any of the boys were. Gloria had been a part of their lives for as long as Michael could remember. She was their nanny and she was so much more. She took care of the whole family, including his mom and driving the woman she looked on as a daughter to the hospital in the middle of the night couldn't have been easy on the woman.
Before Michael's mind could wander back the rising panic and incessant fear from earlier, the sound of a young boy clearing his throat pulled his mind back to the present. Michael looked up to find the small, nine year old form of Raphael standing in front of the with their two year old brother, Gabriel, in his arms. Gabe's milky white skin, blond hair and piercing blue eyes stood in stark contrast to Raph's chocolate skin, curly black hair and warm brown eyes. Raphael held the small form close to his chest gaining as much comfort from the small form as the toddler, looking more lost than the day he joined the Novak family.
Gregory Lewis had been Michael's father, Abraham Novak's, best friend and business associate. He even named Abraham and Rachel, Michael's parents, the godparents of his only son, Raphael. Little did Gregory know that only eight years after his son's birth, his and his wife's lives would end abruptly in a car accident on the I20, leaving his son to live with the Novak family.
Raphael had been with them for a little over a year, but he was still often shy around his older siblings, though he had taken to caring for baby Gabe like a fish to water. The tangible stress currently surrounding the family wasn't helping the child come out of his shell.
Michael was brought form his thoughts by Raph's quiet voice. "Gabe's hungry." The small boy mumbled. They'd been in the waiting room or over three hours and none of the children had eaten in nearly eight. Gloria interrupted before he could respond by handing Michael five crisp dollar bills from her purse.
"Why don't you boys go get something to eat out of the vending machines?" She spoke gently and pointed to the machines as if they weren't glowing beacons of light in the middle of the grim room. "And don't forget to get something soft for Gabe to eat." She called to the boys as Michael led them to food.
Gloria watched them go. The last couple of years had been hard on the Novak boys. Mr. Novak had moved to the London to head international affairs for his company nearly three years before and Mr. And Mrs. Novak had been fighting nonstop whenever Abraham was in town. Gloria had tried to make sure the boys were out of the house whenever the fights began but it soon became an impossible task. After that, she just tried to tune out as much as possible. However, she'd heard enough. Rachel was under the impression that Abraham was cheating on her with his British secretary, Hester. (Gloria suspected that Rachel's impression was correct.) She'd even accused him of fathering the woman's illegitimate child, Bal. (Again, Gloria assumed she was right. She'd looked after the kid the last couple of summers while the Novaks visited Abraham in London and there was no way he didn't share some kind of relation with her boys.)
Before she could think too much more about the family's recent situation, the man himself walked through the doors to the waiting room. Abraham, while not physically imposing was a formidable man. His slight frame distracted many a man from his intense gaze, but once anyone looked into his eyes, a grudging respect was created. Abraham Novak was a natural born leader, no one could deny that, but he was also distant in a way that no one would ever understand.
Abraham's piercing blue eyes darted across the room to the woman raising his children, and he approached her with an air of importance, a single eyebrow raised in silent inquiry.
"Glad to see you could make it." Gloria snipped and Abraham's right brow rose to join his left as his mouth puckered slightly signaling irritation. Gloria sighed, as much as the man's distance confused and infuriated her, she could deny the man nothing. "Ms. Rachel's been back for about two hours. There seem to be some complications but the doctors are still hoping for the best."
"What happened?" Abraham asked wearily, his eyes aged beyond his relatively few years. If nothing else he cared about her welfare, or so it seemed. "She isn't even due for six more weeks."
"I don't know, Mr. Novak. Sometimes… sometimes these things just happen." Abraham's eyes narrowed slightly and coldness crept into them. He was building that distance again, and she hated that she sat there watching it happen like a traffic accident and could do nothing to stop it.
"How long is this going to take?" He asked sharply. She may feel sorry for the man some of the time, but that didn't mean she had to put up with his disrespect. She matched Abraham's recently formed glare with a fiery one of her own.
"I don't know. No one can predict how long this could take." Abraham looked as if he would retort but his attention was diverted by the beeper at his hip. He took one look and pulled out a small black square from his pocket and flipped open the thick plastic cover to call back whoever had paged him.
A few moments after he'd walked outside to try and talk, Gloria looked back to see Michael approaching. His arms full of two year old as Raph and Luce carried snacks. "Did I hear Dad?" His small voice brought the false smile to her lips and she nodded at them.
"Your dad's here. He just stepped out for a moment to make a phone call." And Gloria couldn't decide whether she loved or loathed the irrational joy she saw on each and every one of the boys' faces at the mention of their father.
At that moment, a man in blue scrubs and white coat stepped out of the doors leading to the surgery rooms. He was an older man with a shock of white hair coupled with hard features and wrinkles that were most definitely not laugh lines. She really didn't like the way his mouth was currently pulled down in a severe frown. He approached them cautiously.
"Are you Mrs. Rachel Novak's next of kin?" He asked looking her in the eye. She could see sadness in his eyes and a very small part of her wanted to say no; to leave and never look back, and she hated herself for it. Before she could reply, Abraham was there.
"Are you here about my wife?" He asks. How is he even speaking right now? Can't he see what she does, that Rachel's gone, that they'll never speak to her again. Does he even care?
"Mr. Novak?" The doctor inquired turning his full attention on Abraham. There was pity in his voice. At Abraham's nod, he continued. "I'm afraid you're wife has passed on. I'm very sorry for your loss sir. However, your son is fine. He was premature, but all of his bodily functions appear to be functioning normally. He should be ready to take home in a few hours. Again, I'm very sorry for your loss, but there is some paperwork I need you to fill out, and we'll need a name for the birth certificate." Abraham looked so broken, so fragile, as if his whole world had just crashed down around his shoulders, but the moment was gone to soon and a mask of impassiveness slid itself back into place and he nodded once at the doctor.
"Castiel," Gloria blurted out and both men turned to face her. "Ms. Rachel wanted to name him Castiel. She picked it out months ago. Please." Was all the kind old woman could get out before her voice was cut off with sobs, but her watery eyes locked on Abraham's and the man gave her one quick nod.
"Castiel…" He agreed.
