Trigger Warnings! Child abuse is hinted at throughout the story, becoming darker/more detailed towards the end of the fic and there are mentions of injuries such as head trauma and strangulation. These are not described in massive detail but could still be triggering. If you are unsure if you will be triggered I recommend not reading, your own mental health comes before reading some fanfiction story. Nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

This story is an AU, where John, Dean and Sam are hunters, but where Castiel is a child as well.

It is set a few years after Mary dies, Dean is 6 and in Grade One, while Sam is 2.

I've been trying to write this for the past 4 years and there were a few times I wondered why I was even trying to write this but here it is! I had the 2000 sitting around since 2014, and all the rest was written in about 24 hours when I sat down to finally bash this out as part of my goodbye to .

So if you have been following this story since 2014, wow thanks so much for staying around. If you've just found this story then I hope you enjoy and you read my other stories, I have a lot more Supernatural and Harry Potter and Shadowhunters stories, some of which will be finished off in the next few weeks.

Thanks for reading and I hope you have a great day!

Fez.

Dean was scared.

Well, not scared scared. He was a big boy now, Dad said, and big boys didn't get scared. Not of ghosts or werewolves, or closet doors and certainly not of the new school he'd been enrolled in, in this new town.

His dad had enrolled him in the local school of this town, and had put Sammy in the local play group, just to keep them both out of the way while he did his work. Dean was glad that Sammy would be happy making new friends, although he knew he wouldn't be able to keep any of them.

He rolled his too-big sleeves up his arms a bit more and carried on walking down the sideroad. They had arrived in this town yesterday and Dad had walked him along this path and into a park, showing him the way to his new school. Sammy had been toddling along in front of them, and Dad had even pushed them both in the swings.

Fallen leaves were kicked up as he trudged along. Sammy was being taken to the playgroup by a mum in the town. Dad was still in bed, smelling of the bitter drink he let Dean try sometimes. It was fine, Dean was used to waking himself and Sammy up and walking to their latest school together. But now? He was alone.

"Castiel!" A man's voice roared and Dean's head snapped up in shock, confusing the voice with his dad's even if he didn't recognise the name. A small boy, around his age, stumbled out a house in front of Dean. He had a long beige coat on, so big that it brushed the ground as the boy jumped down the stairs. He had a yellow and black backpack weighing down on his back and as Dean looked closer he could see it was like a bee. The boy practically fell down the steps in his rush to leave. A man appeared at the door behind him.

"Castiel, come here." He didn't look very nice, Dean thought, he was fat and had stubble around his face with dried food around his mouth. He was wearing a dirty grey vest with holes and more stains down it and what, Dean hoped, were not his boxers.

The little boy hesitated but carried on, stumbling along in a scared little gait. He had reached the fancy iron gate and was struggling to open it against the drift of leaves.

Dean stood there watching the scene, his mouth slightly open. The other boy looked scared.

The boy looked behind him at his father, and begun to run, the gate clanging shut behind him. The man scowled and slammed the door. Thankfully, he didn't see Dean.

Dean stared at the boy, who had slowed as the door slammed; he was quite a bit further ahead of him.

Dean frowned and ran to catch up. When he reached 'Castiel' as the man had called him, the boy flinched away from his footsteps.

"Hello," said Dean, reaching a hand out to touch the boy's shoulder. Castiel pulled away. Now, Dean saw the tears forming in the boy's beautiful blue eyes. And the bubble of blood on the boy's lips.

Dean carried on walking fast to keep up with Castiel and dug in his pocket for a tissue. When he didn't find one, he pulled his sleeve up and gently dabbed at the boy's lip. Immediately the boy winced, blinking as the tears, unbidden, began to fall.

They had reached another gate, bigger this time, and Castiel went through it, sinking hopelessly on a bench. Dean sat next to him and tried to keep on dabbing at the boy's wobbling lip.

"I'm Dean." He said quietly as not to scare the little boy and Castiel looked at him with wide eyes.

"I'm Castiel." He muttered, voice thick from crying.

"What happened? Was that your dad?" Castiel pulled out a tissue from his coat pocket and nudged Dean's hand away, mumbling that he can do it himself. Dean took the tissue from him anyway, and wiped away the trail of blood, spit and tears that had dribbled down his chin.

Castiel only nodded, wincing as Dean cleaned his lip. When he was done, he tentatively prodded his lip with his tongue.

"What happened?" Dean repeated, watching the boy worriedly.

"I ran into a door." He said automatically. It was too stiff, as if over-rehearsed. Dean looked at him unsure of what to think, but didn't ask anything else. Castiel was sad enough as it was, he didn't want to upset him.

He slowly hugged Castiel. He was tense and unyielding. But, eventually, he returned it.

"Thank you."

XXXxxxXXX

They walked to school together, neither of them saying a word. They reached the school, and jumped over the low wall into the playground. Dean wondered if Sammy was getting on okay in his playgroup.

Castiel led Dean to a toilet where he washed his face free of any left-over tear-steaks or blood and stared, anguished, at his reflection. That's when Dean looked at him properly; he had shaggy black hair that looked like he didn't brush it. Or cut it for that matter. He had seen his brilliant blue eyes earlier but still loved looking at them. Dean was sure there was a whole sky in them. Castiel wrapped his pale tan overcoat around him tighter, rather like a security blanket, Dean thought.

Together they walked out of the bathroom, the bell ringing loudly in their ears. Dean tried to dampen a smile at the fact he had a new friend, although he seemed unhappy. He was sure he'd cheer up, though.

XXXxxxXXX

"Okay, class, we're going to go around in a circle and say our names and how we are feeling today. Ellen, you start."

Ellen stood up, importantly. "I am Ellen. I feel happy." She said very seriously. Then she sat down and grinned at the teacher.

Then went Michael, Joe, Anna, Lucy, Dan, Noah, Chuck, Ash and so many more names that Dean could hardly keep them all in his head. Soon it was Castiel's turn and he stood up, his sleeved hand half-covering his mouth.

"I am Castiel and I feel… Safe." He plopped back in his seat, his face flushing a deep red. Miss Masters looked at him with a strange look that neither Castiel nor Dean understood before Dean stood up and said:

"I am Dean and I feel super-duper happy." He sat down beaming, his eyes never leaving Castiel.

XXXxxxXXX

"One, two, three, four, five." Chanted the class, all standing. Dean glanced at Castiel. He stood, his back straight, looking forward like a solider.

"Well done." Miss Masters praised, smiling back at the class who were all beaming at her.

They chanted it over and over, holding up the correct number of fingers, until Miss Masters made them sit down and fill in a worksheet about the few numbers they had learnt.

Dean saw Castiel struggling over drawing a 5. He leaned over to show him his sheet and his painstakingly drawn numbers. Castiel looked up at him sharply as he approached, but then he relaxed and whispered a thanks.

Dean only smiled back.