CHAPTER 1
"Cassie, please!" Gabe tried not to throw his hands up in frustration at his younger sibling, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to rein in pointless anger. The youngest Novak merely frowned harder, arms crossing a too thin chest.
"Gabriel, I just don't feel safe there. I can't understand why this perplexes you so. Please, can't we just keep going for a bit longer? I'm sure there's a warehouse or some abandoned building not far from here." Gabriel felt his resolve crumbling at the wide-eyed blues that pleaded with him; throwing a sidelong look at their third companion he was met with an expression he knew would be gracing his own face had he a mirror. Resignation in regards to Castiel was something that he was accustomed to and with a low growl he finally let his hands fly up, the only satisfaction he knew he'd see this evening.
Running had never been Gabriel's idea of enjoyment. It had always been something that the youngest of the Novak's had taken upon himself to exercise in such a manner, saying it made him feel like he was flying. Gabriel thought it more likely that it kept him a step ahead of his schoolyard tormentors. Cas had woken up early every morning of their childhood and teenage years; it was Cas that had run miles and miles even as the sun rose. Gabriel knew that Sam had practiced a similar regime, knew that eventually the best friends had begun training together, never using what was an obvious talent as far as Gabriel could tell to win them any medals or trophies, claiming they simply enjoyed it. These days Gabriel wishes he had learned to love running as Castiel had. Perhaps he would be better at it now.
It quickly becomes obvious that Cas hadn't been completely wrong in his estimate of some sort of abandoned type housing. The three companions separate briefly to scope the building out; it probably once served a home for a young family, or maybe just a couple. A townhouse in an up and coming neighborhood; Castiel finds himself imagining the type of people who might have lived here, what they might have done, if they are still alive. Gabriel tells him it is a morose occupation but he can never seem to stop himself – imagining the lives that people might have led Before.
Meeting back in the living room with their bounty they begin setting up for the night. It's routine by now; Castiel is in charge of blankets, pillows, any items of clothing or shoes he can find, "creature comforts" Sam calls them. Castiel knows everyone's sizes by heart, though they are rarely so picky as to care, he knows his own current apparel is hardly anything to lust after, certainly not in the Before, but it keeps him warm and makes him appear bigger than he is, the colours dark or muted to not attract attention and to blend in with the general grey-ness of the outside world. Sometimes he misses his old clothes, his sweater vests and his beloved tan trench coat, as impracticable as it is. Sam is really the only one they have trouble finding things for, his above average size makes each item found more of a prize than those for either Cas or Gabe. Sam and Gabriel take charge of the food, scrounging anything they can find, anything that might be edible. Nutritional content has ceased being of any sort of import. Food is food and anything that keeps their bodies going another day is good enough. Sam, who used to survive solely on greens and lean meats took it the hardest at the start. Castiel has seen him, more than once, desperately scooping out unnamed brown mush from a can. There was a time, Before, that they may have teased him for it. Now, it is simply survival.
Dinner, or what now passes as it, is relatively unhurried as far as their meals go nowadays. The house is reasonably secured, each of them covering off all of the doors and windows, taking stock of all of the exits, which is the quickest to access from the living room. Castiel pushes around the contents of his tuna can. He never liked sea food as a child, remembers his parents making him sit at the kitchen table until he had finished every bite, remembers Gabriel causing distractions so that he could feed large portions of it to the cat who would lick it greedily from his fingers even as retracted his hands to his lap, hand poised over his fork. Picking up a flaking piece, he shoves it into his mouth with a grimace.
They are laying on the floor of the living room, swathed in darkness, the sounds of soft snores coming from both his brother and the hulking man he calls a best friend, soothing sounds that once lulled him to sleep but now only fuel his brains frantic stirring. Castiel does not know sleep as he once did; he does not know much of what he used to. He tries hard not to think on what life was like before, there's a piercing pain in his chest when he ventures down that road, a pain that always ends in gasping sobs, bitten through a sleeve or a fist or a dirty blanket. He tries not to think of what he's lost, though he knows it is a futile battle.
"Baby, I promise that I'll find you, ok?" Cas can distantly feel the tears that are cascading down his cheeks, tickling at his dirty chin before plummeting to their death. A journey his heart mirrors as the reality sinks in, as the noise escalates around them, boxes crashing to the floor as the front door rattles dangerously. "Cas? Please, you gotta go." His fingers grip tighter into the weathered leather clad shoulders, bitten fingernails biting into the well-loved fabric as he buries his face into the chest of the man before him, chest too tight to speak. He wants to shout, wants to scream that he won't run, that he won't leave him, wants to tell him that they can make it, all of them. He knows it will fall on deaf ears.
His closest ally, Sam, is already gathering their supplies, even as his own tears fall. Cas feels sick as he watches his brother and best friend pack up their meager belongings, gripping tighter to the shoulders that support most of his weight. Arms wrap securely around him, almost too firm for a half a moment before someone is grabbing him from behind, pulling him away, even as his voice finds itself in a hoarse scream that is sure to attract more attention that they want.
"No! No! You promised we'd stay together! NO!" Lips press swiftly against his, too quick to be anything but a goodbye, even as he's dragged backwards, tears and snot choking him before he's hauled over Sam's shoulder to prevent him from hindering their movement. He can feel the shaking of those large shoulders, the soft cries muffled against his own legs as he's pulled away from Him. One more wail makes its way, pleadingly, from him, a name passing his lips even as he loses sight of him, even as the doors barge open finally, the snarling and animalistic growls growing distant as Sam and Gabriel hurry them through the alleyway.
"Dean…"