The Real Story of the First and Second Born
K Hanna Korossy
Castiel was watching Sam Winchester sleep when the phone in his pocket rang. Dean had told him once that watching people sleep was "creepy," but Castiel figured it was justified if the sleeper had just gone through a painful and exhausting grace-removal treatment. And had no brother around to keep an eye on him.
He stepped quickly away from the door before he woke Sam, missing his wings for the two thousand three hundred fifty-ninth time. He pulled the phone out as he reached the library, relieved to see it was Dean. Castiel never knew what to say to those who called for money for starving children or to clean something called "gutters."
"Hello."
"Cas. Hey."
Dean sounded tired and disheartened. Castiel did not always know how to read human emotion, but he knew well Dean's pain this time.
"Cas?"
"I am here."
"Good. …Is Sam?"
"He is sleeping."
"He okay?"
Clear worry. Castiel was tempted to give a human sigh. "He is…drained. The…treatments have been difficult." Was that a lie? He didn't have to worry about such things once.
"I thought you said he just needed a couple of healing sessions!"
Anger now, at least superficially. Castiel knew his friend better. "He is healing, Dean. It is not easy, but he's no longer in danger."
Dean was silent, digesting that. There was a time, not too long before, when he would have rushed to Sam's side at the first mention of hurting, and would have hotly argued with Castiel over every discomfort inflicted on his brother. Castiel missed that time, not the least because Dean would have kept his brother from undergoing the agonizing extraction Sam had insisted on.
"How are you?" he asked when it seemed Dean had become lost in his thoughts, or perhaps his worry.
"Uh. Okay. Road-tripping with Crowley—fun times. We went to see Cain."
"Cain," Castiel echoed flatly. Surely he didn't mean, "The Father of Murder?"
"Yup, one and the same. Friendly guy."
"Really." He did not even try to sound like he believed that.
"No. But he didn't kill us, so that's something, right?"
Castiel shook his head at the flippancy in Dean's voice; the greater the danger he was in, the less seriously he seemed to take it. Sometimes he wished he could shake some sense into his friend. "Dean—"
"But he didn't exactly murder his brother. Said Abel was about to go dark-side, so Cain made a deal: kill his brother and send him to Heaven in exchange for Cain's soul."
Castiel cocked his head. "That is what he told you?"
"Uh…yeah? Why?"
"Dean, I was there. That is not what happened."
More silence; he was pretty sure Dean sometimes forgot he was an angel, that he'd lived for millennia. Castiel sank wearily into one of the library chairs.
"It was not Abel whom Lucifer misled. Cain was the one he fooled. As Genesis says, Cain was jealous of his brother, and it made him susceptible to Lucifer. Just as the Father of Lies tricked Cain's mother, Eve, so he tricked Cain into murdering his brother."
"But…Cas, you didn't see him. He seemed pretty sure—"
Castiel cut him off impatiently. "Don't you think if you had killed your brother, you would engage in some comforting self-deception, as well?"
He could hear Dean's breathing in the silence this time.
Contrition softened his voice. "He is not to be trusted, Dean."
The hollow laugh worried him more than anything Dean had said so far. "Kinda late for that."
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"Never mind. Listen, let me know if Sam needs anything, okay?"
"All right. But—"
"I'll check in with you later." And the call was disconnected.
Castiel pulled the phone away to stare at it in frustration. He knew from experience that if he tried to call back now, Dean would not pick up. What he had already said, however, was disturbing. Cain? Could anything good come from that cursed ground?
"Who was that?"
He turned to see Sam stagger into the library, yawning and rubbing at his unruly hair. He still looked tired, but at least not as pale as before.
Castiel put the phone back in his pocket. "Dean."
Sam's eyes sharpened. "He okay?"
"He is fine."
"Oh. Well, good." Sam rubbed a hand over his face, leaving it looking more weary than before. "I'm gonna fix something to eat."
"All right," Castiel said. "I will remain here."
Sam gave him an odd look—one of the many, many Castiel still could not read despite his experience with the brothers—and headed to the kitchen.
He was pretty sure Sam had wanted to ask more about Dean, but he would not allow himself to any more than Dean had. It had taken a moment of faltering self-control—during the most painful part of the grace-extraction—for him to moan his brother's name. Like Dean calling just to "check in." Castiel did allow himself that sigh this time.
Cain was not the only one who was fooling himself about his brother.
The End
