Do You Like the Rain?

Drip... Drip... Drip...

Castiel stared gloomily up at the dingy gray ceiling. The rain that had soaked the earth outside pounded against the roof without mercy, causing the all-too-familiar crack in Castiel's ceiling to drip water right onto his forehead. He didn't bother to get up and place a bucket underneath the leak, however. In fact, Castiel hadn't bothered with anything so far today. He hadn't even touched his breakfast from earlier this morning, or his dinner last night. How could he? Especially after the bombshell news that he was suddenly made aware of at the last possible moment. He remembered the conversation over dinner only too well.

"But I don't want to go there, Father! I am perfectly capable of watching myself this summer! Lucifer got to watch himself when he was my age! Why can't I?" Castiel asked, completely outraged.

"You're going, Castiel. That's final. And leave your brother out of this! Your mother and I have decided that it'd be good for you to actually interact with others your age, rather than those books you've got your nose shoved into, anyway. Wouldn't you like to meet other people?" Castiel's father looked to his wife for backup.

"Your father is right, Cassy... it would do you good! Wouldn't you love to make new friends?" she smiled, reassuringly placing her hand on Cas' forearm. He shook his head.

"You know as well as I do that kids don't like people like me! I've tried making friends before, remember?" he sighed.

"Honey, you can't expect people to like you right off the bat... these things take time... but I promise you... you'll make at least one friend at this... er..."

"Camp For Troubled (and extremely socially awkward) Twelve year olds?" Gabriel piped up, smiling into his plate of spaghetti. Castiel's mother shot her second oldest son a vexed look before turning back to her youngest.

"I'm fourteen, Gabriel!" Cas shouted angrily.

"A camp, for... young boys and girls to mix and mingle... you'll have fun! I promise!" Castiel appreciated his mother's reassurance, but knew way better than to believe it.

"But it's just not fair! I'm far more responsible that Gabe and Lucifer put together! Why can't I just stay here while you two are away at work? It's all because I'm the youngest!" Castiel was growing more and more frustrated with the situation.

"Because it's just not natural for a boy your age to be more involved with books than with living people, Castiel! Now you-" Cas didn't let his father finish.

"I've got you guys! And need I remind you that these are humans? We're not exactly like them, are we?!" Castiel flared his wings as a reminder to his father about just how 'non-human' he was. How non human they all were.

The dining room went quiet. Even Gabe, who had become quite involved with his spaghetti, had stopped to look up. Castiel's father had gone such a violent shade of red that he thought he might explode. Cas stared at his father, who merely stared back. After several moments of intense silence, his father finally said, "You're going to this camp. You are not to let anybody know. You can be just as human as anybody else. We all can... it's time to get your head out of the clouds! You better pack your things tonight, because you're ride will be here by tomorrow morning." Wincing, Castiel took his seat silently once more, his wings disappearing just as fast as they had appeared. He refused to touch his meal for the rest of the night. The thought of cold spaghetti on top of such a feeling of foreboding just didn't appetize him at all.

"Cassy! Castiel! You're going to be late, dear! Come on!" Castiel sat up and rubbed his eyes as though trying to rub away the memory of last night. He grabbed his duffel bag and hopped downstairs, where his mother was waiting for him. He slipped on his yellow raincoat and boots, hugged his mother goodbye, then set off for the door. "Cassy, are you sure you're not hungry for breakfast?" She asked as she fussed over his messy hair. He nodded. "Just remember... be yourself... people will love you, Cassy... and whatever you do... don't let them know..." He nodded again, then set off into the pouring rain.

Thunder pounded in his ears as he trudged across the soggy lawn, splashing muddy water all over his boots. He waited at the end of the driveway, trying to convince himself that it wouldn't be so bad. That he could make friends if he really tried. Upon hearing the roaring of the bus engines coming up the hill, Castiel readjusted his duffel bag and took a deep breath. As the bus doors screeched open, he took the first step, feeling as though he were going to be sick. After climbing the rest of the steps, he looked down the bus at all the different seats and all the different people sitting in them. He finally chose to sit in the first seat on the left, right behind the driver. The seat was vacant of anybody. Anybody, that is, excepting the graffiti and rude words that were carved into the vinyl. Sighing, Castiel sat down, wiping the foggy window with his hand, and looking out at his gloomy little house as the bus started moving once more. 'It won't be so bad,' he thought. 'Yeah, right...'

A few more stops into his ride, and nobody had even so much as glanced at him. Not that he had expected them to, though. But at the tenth stop, two boys got on, and the taller one glared at him. "That's our seat..."

"Dean... it's ok... it doesn't matter..." the younger looking boy said.

"Move it... before I move you myself."

Castiel stared at him for a moment. The boy looked older and stronger than he did. Silently, he got up and moved to a new seat, casting a glance to the younger boy, who looked like he was mouthing the word, 'sorry'.

An hour into the ride, Castiel had fallen into a fitful sleep, his head resting against the cold window. As the bus ran over the bumpy trail, (causing Castiel's head to smack into the window and wake him up), the rain turned to a downpour. The sound of the engines died down, and the bus slowed to a stop. Cas grabbed his bag and zipped up his raincoat, stretched, and stood up. The doors weren't open yet, and the noise level was rising steadily, causing the windows to fog up even more. The bus seats felt cold and sticky, and the air felt hard to breathe. Castiel just wanted out of this bus. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the doors opened. He waited until everybody was off the bus before daring to step into the aisle. Nobody, he noticed, but a few people had said thank you to the driver. After thanking her, and wishing her a good day, the doors closed behind him and the bus drove off, leaving him to his own thoughts. He knew there were at least ninety to one hundred kids at this camp, but he still couldn't help but feel all alone.