Raging fire, heat rolling off in waves, smoke billowing from them. And beams of light, a white out kind of blue coming from every direction. Screams, he could hear screaming. His eyes are still sensitive, he's new to this. The power inside of him is at rage, building and building until he feels ready to explode. He clenches his fists, taking deep breaths.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
He shuts his eyes from the brightness. The screaming louder than ever, as his body starts to shake.
Stop.
He thinks, he wills. Stop.
Stop!
…
Blinking his eyes open hurriedly, the images dissipate just as fast as they once came. He breathes in a deep breath through his nose, then out through his nose. Straightening up from where his head had fallen against the window of the car. Sweat beads across his forehead, the cold glass of the window missed as he wipes a hand through his messy hair. The car still hums quietly beneath him, as if nothing had gone wrong. Soft music filtering in through the speakers. His head throbs and he groans slightly rubbing at his temples with his fingers. He then lowers his hands to fix his trench coat, which had tangled itself under him while he slept.
He ignores the constant throbbing in his head, and let's his eyes travel outside the tinted window. His lips in a thin line as he scans the warm day outside.
It's so green, he thinks. Trees, long grass, mountains. A small sense of calm washes over him, as it always has around nature. Something about being alone, the fresh air and the sound of birds, it surrounds him in happiness like nothing else ever could. Maybe this won't be as bad as he thought.
That is until he sees houses, upon houses, come into view. Trees thinning as buildings take over the space. He watches as they pass an older slightly crooked wooden sign. A large sunflower is painted across it's front, the paint washed out from the sunshine and years of rain and wind. In large block letters reads 'Welcome to Lawrence'.
Lawrence, Kansas.
They pass more houses, mostly old but some new. Then as time wears on they emerge out onto what he assumes is main street, littered with people and cars. His heart sinks further. The cluster of trees and 'freedom' left behind. Too far for him to feel comfortable.
The pocket of his coat starts to vibrate, and he digs into it just to pull out his phone. The screen lights up with 'mom' when he looks at it. He clenches his jaw and slides the camera button with a sigh. Seconds later his mom, Naomi's face comes onto the screen. Her eyes are hard, and her brown hair is pinned up tight as she fixes him with a stare through the device.
"Castiel." She speaks firmly.
"Mother." He answers, staring back through the phone.
"Are you at the house yet?" She asks, voices filtering in from the background. She must be at work, in her office. The white walls behind her faintly familiar. He recalls the room of glass from when he was small. Glimpses of a large fancy desk, it's surface completely clear and clean from anything personal. A large leather chair he remembers sitting in, kicking his feet and twirling himself around while his mothers hard voice filtered in from outside. He always hated that place.
He glances out the window, a frown pulling at his face. "No." He answers, turning his eyes back to the phone in his hand.
The driver up front glances back at him as he speaks, one eyebrow raised. Castiel catches his eye, and he turns away when he realizes that he isn't being spoken to, turning the car down another street.
"Good. I wanted to speak with you before you got there." Castiel raises his brows at that, confusion flittering over his features for a split second.
She pauses for a moment, the background of voices completely ceasing, before clearing her throat and beginning to speak.
"As you know, neither I or your father will be home until around Christmas time." She stops, looking down her nose at him. Castiel nods, confirming he heard her.
"So in the meantime Michael will be left in charge." She pauses again.
Castiel internally groans.
"That's not what I wanted to speak to you about." Castiel tilts his head, his lips pursing. His mother sighs, her eyes just as hard as ever.
"Castiel you are the youngest boy in the family. And I am worried about the control you have over yourself." She starts.
He holds back the urge to roll his eyes and shout at his mother.
"Mother, I can control myself. It has been over a year." He says, his voice just a tint angry.
"Castiel, listen to me." she snaps back, effectively shutting him up. He clenches his jaw as he watches his mom on screen.
"You are not in control. If I would have had a choice we wouldn't have even moved until I felt like you were ready. But we didn't have one, and you are not complete yet. Rules are rules, so we moved. Which is why I am talking to you now. You will tell Michael if you feel that you are losing control. If you feel weird at all, you will inform him and him only. You kids will be attending school in a few days and I can't have anything bad happening. We are in a new place and I will not have one of you blowing it up. We can not afford another mishap."
Castiel makes a face at the mention of school. He opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it and snaps it back shut again.
"Agreed?" She asks, her stare still boring into him through the phone.
He clenches his jaw, gripping his phone until his knuckles are white. This is insane, he can't go to school with all of those normal people. And he certainly doesn't want to be under Michael's orders. He can take care of himself for hell's sake.
"Castiel." She says sternly, her voice pulling him out of his mind.
"Yes. Agreed." He grinds out, looking back to his phone where his mother still stares through at him.
She tips back in her chair. "Good. Michael is already at the house. Your other siblings should be there soon, if not before you. Behave yourself, Castiel." She says, the call ending with a click.
A very small tendril of hurt courses through him when she doesn't say goodbye, but is quickly forgotten as rage overcomes him.
His screen goes black as he throws his phone onto the seat next to him. He growls in the back of his throat, his nostrils flared as he huffs out an angry breath. It's bad enough that they had to move away from home, but now he has to go to school to!? And on top of that his mother thinks he can't control himself? It has been a year, he is completely and utterly under control.
Folding his arms over his chest he glares out the window, watching as more houses pass by. The driver's eyes are visible in the rearview mirror as he looks over Castiel once more, a frown pulling at his own face.
….
Exactly ten minutes later the car slows, it's tires crunching over gravel as they eventually roll to a stop. The driver unbuckles his belt and get's out, his door closing with a soft snick behind him. Castiel scoops up his phone, shoving it back into his coat pocket. Then slowly opens up his own car door. He steps out onto the gravel, his shoes crunching as he straightens up. He attempts to fix his tie, and straighten his suit. The fabric is wrinkled from the long drive, in need of a wash and iron soon.
He slowly raises his eyes from the grey ground beneath him. The house is huge, as expected. A large rounded gravel driveway leading up to a cream colored mansion, nestled right Into the edge of a forest. Large trees curving in from every side, there leaves rustling against the wind. The house is at least three stories, large windows littering the smooth outside. A garden spreading out on either side of the large staircase, hundreds of flowers Castiel has never heard of, let alone seen before, at full bloom.
Two grey gargoyles perch on the sides of a marble staircase, their wings small and tucked behind their crouched bodies. Fangs long and thick hanging from their mouths, as they snarl. The eyes of the grey statues are hollow and deep, like they are actually seeing. Castiel knows they are most likely some form of guardians that his father had put there before they moved in. But none the less, they creep him out, and he vows not to look at them longer than needed. He moves his eyes up the smooth stairs, where they are connected to a equally large porch.
The double doors there swing open, a smaller women rushing forward as another man stays behind to hold them open. The women is wearing a soft grey suit, her lips painted red as she rushes past Castiel to the back of the car. Where the driver hands her a suitcase, and shoulders a few bags himself. Castiel watches the man struggle with the bags in his arms, his hand slipping as he wrenches the trunk closed.
"Castiel."
A familiar, gravelly voice calls. He blinks turning back to the staircase stiffly, where his brother stands stock still atop.
His body immediately reacts to seeing Michael, he stands taller and straightens out his posture. His lips are a thin line as he scans over his brother. It's been a while since he has seen the eldest of his siblings. Somehow, Michael still looks the same. His suit a perfect shade of midnight blue, gold cuff clips, and a black tie to match, with a perfectly buttoned and tucked white dress shirt, paired with black newly shined shoes. His hair is swept the way it always has been, just the tiniest bit of gel to keep it in place. His mouth set in a straight line, the only facial expression Michael has other than, what Castiel would describe as, wrath, set on his face. His eyes are piercing as he watches Castiel, no doubt already have assessed his state of dress, and bed head that he hadn't bothered to fix that morning.
The one thing that has always stood out though, other than Michael's sense of power. Are his eyes. A cold, light blue, almost light enough to be white. His ability to stare down even Castiel if he wanted to. They are certainly unnerving.
He's been told that him and Michael are a lot alike. Castiel doesn't see the resemblance, his brother is well put together, powerful, and alpha all around. He would even go as far to call him heartless. Where as Castiel is hesitant, calm, and full of love. Less like his brother when put under stress. Where as Michael would just snap his fingers and kill. Castiel would not, he would find some other way, any other way, to help everyone he comes into contact with.
So no Castiel does not see the resemblance.
"Michael." He greets back, nodding his head in acknowledgement. His brother's dark haired head tilts back, his eyes never leaving Castiel's.
"Come." He says, spinning on his heel and entering the large house.
He glances back at the women and driver, where they still gather things, and exchange whispered words. Then turns back and takes his first steps toward the house. The rocks crunch beneath his feet, and he tries not to let dread fill him as he thinks of what's to come.
Michael waits for him inside, the butler at the door bowing his head as Castiel steps through the threshold. He's immediately hit with a cold blast of air, the house a relief from the hot weather outside. It feels cold, and not just because of the air conditioning. A kind of detached feeling seeps from the overly large house. There are no personal touches what so ever, which Castiel should have expected, and is used to by now.
But usually it feels slightly more homey than this place.
The first thing he sees when he looks around, is a large staircase, also white marble as it winds up the left side of the hall, with a light lime colored carpet running up the middle of them for grip. Then he notices the lack of furniture and pictures on the long hallway straight through. One red and gold bench sits to the side of the hallway, along with a mirror and a coat rack. Which most likely leads to the kitchen, he guesses. To his left a large wooden sliding door is closed and freshly polished, the wood a dark cherry. And to his right is a grand room, complete with a piano and some chairs.
The tiles across the floor are also white, the walls almost the same exact color, with decretive trim lining them. When he looks up he sees a moderately sized chandelier hanging there, and more of that trim lining the ceiling.
He sighs, letting his eyes travel back to Michael who's speaking to one of the maids that was just outside. She bows her head, and then hurries off quickly. Her face void of emotion as she passes Castiel. His brother turns back, clasping his hands in front of him.
"Exquisite don't you think, Castiel?" he says, his tone firm as he keep his eyes on Castiel.
He nods, swallowing down his rebellion. "Yes." He answers, his voice smaller than he expected, more of a croak. He clears his throat, glancing around the room once more. Michael's eyes light up just a tint as he nods again. Then, gesturing to his left, he says.
"Follow me. I will show you to your room. Dinner will be soon, and you need to tidy up." There's no room for argument in his cold voice, as he spins and briskly walks up the stairs. His shoes click against the polished floor, reflecting Michael upon it as he takes his first steps up the stairs.
Castiel stumbles slightly after him, quickly picking up his pace to match Michael's. His footsteps are lighter as he follows after his brother. His eyes roaming as they walk.
The rest of the house is much the same, white marble, bare walls, and expensive furniture.
Michael leads him up the long stairs, taking him to the right at the top. The house is only two stories, he notes, not three like he had originally thought. Now facing at the start of a long hallway. It is lined with the same dark cherry wood doors, all of them closed firmly. These ones are normal sized, thank god. There are about four to his left, and five to his right. The hallway curving at the end, no doubt lined with more doors.
Michael only takes him four doors down to his right. Just as he is about to wonder what is behind all of these doors Michael stops. He turns towards Castiel, grabbing a hold of the gold doorknob with long slender fingers. He pushes it open gently, the door swinging most of the way open. Castiel hesitantly comes forward peeking into the over sized room with wide eyes.
"Dinner is at six, you may wonder the house after that. Uriel, and Aneal have arrived. But Gabriel and Lucifer have not. I do not want you causing any trouble while I am working, so please stay here and unpack the rest of your belongings. You will not have time to do so tomorrow, for you will be attending school early in the morning. See you at dinner Castiel." with that Michael turns and walks back down the stairs.
Castiel huffs, rolling his eyes as his brothers suit clad back disappears from sight. He turns around towards his room, pausing for a moment as he just looks in from the hallway. Finally, when his curiosity get's the best of him, he steps into his room and closes the door a little more harshly than needed. The walls shake slightly from the power of it, and he hastily flicks on his light. Gold envelops the space and he takes in the space with wide eyes, his mouth pressed in a tight line. It's large as expected, but with his furniture it's not as over bearing as he thought it would be. Which he guesses, is kind of nice.
Straight ahead is a huge window, covered by heavy dark blue curtains, faint decorations printed across them. To either side are built in book shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling and stopping close to the ground where they are leveled with the built in window sill/bench. The walls are off white, but at least he has carpet, a nice cream colored, soft carpet that billows underneath his weight as he takes a step forward.
To Castiel's right is his king sized bed, the covers already neatly made, no decretive pillows on top. Thank goodness. A dark blue comforter to match his curtains. It sticks out from the wall, a picture of a lightening storm hung above the beautiful wooden frame. On either side are matching tables, that stand tall and skinny, clawed feet digging into the carpet. Then gold trimmed lamps atop those, the one closest to him holding a alarm clock. There is also a cherry chest at the end of his bed, just a tad bit shorter than the actual mattress.
To his left is a long dresser, to match the tables, completely bare where it is pressed up against the far wall. To the right of that a dark door leads to the bathroom. And to the left a chair and tall lamp sit in the corner. Then next to Castiel is a walk in two door closet, also adorned with that beautiful dark cherry wood and gold handles.
In the middle of the room is a rug, a dark blue round rug with designs he can't explain. On top of that rug, are boxes, about five of them, and the luggage from the car.
It's going to be a long night, he thinks.
…..
…..
….
One last book slides into the bookshelf. It fits perfectly, as if they were meant to be there. All of the old covers pressed tightly together and organized by alphabet. Once the shelves are full, he steps back to admire his work.
With all the boxes unpacked and disposed of he feels a tiny bit better. Like he actually lives here now. Everything just a little bit less foreign to his touch.
He checks the time on his watch, only four fifty. He decides he still has time to shower off the sweat he worked up before dinner. Since he's not allowed to leave this room until after, he will have to entertain himself in the mean time.
Briefly wondering if the rest of his siblings have showed up, he makes his way over to the door he know to be his bathroom. When he opens the heavy set door, cold air blasts on his face. He flicks on the light quickly taking in the white marble once again. Grey soft towels on the rack, and new shampoo, soap, and cloths set upon the also white counter top.
He grabs all of them, and sets them on the edge of the tub.
Stripping off his clothes, he throws them in the hamper in the corner of the room, and steps into the shower. The water is warm as soon as he turns it on. He sighs as it cascades down his face, neck, and back. His muscles just slightly loosening from his long stressful day.
He tries not to let his mind wonder too much, thoughts of school clouding his head.
He does not want to attend school.
Castiel may be in control right now, but as for later.. maybe not so much. What if he has a fit? Right in the middle of school? What if he can't control one of his urges, or something sets him off? How would he even begin to deal with that. His mother made it sound so easy when she said to just tell Michael if he feels like he's losing control. But it doesn't work that way! He does not know when it's going to happen, it just comes like an explosion, and he can't control it.
Not like he would ever admit to it, but he feels out of control all of the time. The only reason he can't mention it, is because he's different. He is not supposed to be like this. He was supposed to gain complete control over himself in only a month. Like the rest of his family!
There isn't a way that he can come out and say that he's different. They will think something is wrong with him. When in fact, nothing is. He's just powerful. Which is why he is so often mistaken for Michael. That and they have a small resemblance.
He sighs, turning the water off and beginning to dry himself with one of those fluffy grey towels.
Castiel wishes there were a way to convince his mother, or Michael that he doesn't need to go to school. There are plenty of other things he could do. It's not like everyone in there family has to act normal. It would bring way too much attention to them if he screwed up anyways. It's safer if he just didn't go anywhere.
Maybe he will talk to Michael tonight during dinner.
Speaking of, it has to be close to time for him to head down stairs.
He finishes drying off and wraps the towel around his waist. Castiel tugs the door open with damp hands, his hair still dripping onto his chest and shoulders.
He walks out with his eyes on the floor, his feet sinking into the soft carpet beneath. When he finally lifts his eyes again, he catches a glimpse of something on his bed. At first he thinks he's imagining things, but when he checks again he realizes he wasn't.
"Gabriel!" He shouts, clutching the towel tighter around his waist as he glares at his brother.
Gabriel lays half sprawled across his sheets, a book in his hands and a disgusted look on his face. His long chocolate hair falling around his face. He's dressed in a simple t shirt and jeans, nothing like the rest of his siblings. There is a small stain on the grey shirt, and the start of a hole in the knee of his dark blue jeans. His hair is slightly greasy were it's swooped lazily back. His face shiny, and cheeks red. He sucks on a sucker, smacking his lips every so often.
Gabriel is one year older than Castiel, the second to youngest boy in the family. He has less resemblance to the rest of his brothers. He's short, and slightly stocky. His eyes a dark, sometimes golden brown. Always with a hint of something soft in them, a thing he doesn't express to often. His hair is lighter than Michael's and Castiel's more of a chocolate color, than a black. He has a hint of a smile on his lips at all time's, humor always alit in his eyes.
Gabriel also has this strange addiction to sweets. Something Castiel will never understand, he has always had the nack for less sugary things. His brother has some kind of candy in his mouth, and pockets at all time's. His family frowns upon him, but Gabe doesn't seem to care or notice. He sometimes leaves for days at a time, returning home with no explanations. Castiel would call him the rebel of the family, if it weren't for Lucifer out ranking him in that subject.
"What is this garbage?" He asks, waving one of Castiel's books in the air. His brown eyes are soft and fond as he grins up at him.
"It's not garbage. Don't touch my stuff." He snaps back, snatching the book away and placing it back onto his shelf. Where, as he just noticed, all of the books have been rearranged and are out of order. Castiel groans, throwing a glare over his shoulder at a chuckling Gabriel. He forgot about his brother's tricks, often teasing and messing with anyone that comes near him. He earned the nickname trickster back in Heaven's peak.
"That's not funny." He growls, his shoulders stiff. He's going to have to re organize those later.
"Yeah, yeah. Get dressed grumpy, time for din din." He spews right back. Popping the sucker out of his mouth and jumping from Castiel's bed on steady feet. He skips out the door with a whistle and a peace sign thrown above his head.
Castiel groans, rolling his eyes as he realizes he barely has any time to get dressed now. Hurrying over to his closet he throws the doors open, and picks out a pair of black slacks, and a white button up. He throws them on in a haste, attempting to smooth out his rapidly fast drying hair. He looks in the mirror quickly, this is going to have to be as presentable as he is going to get.
He opens his bedroom door half expecting to see Gabriel there, but finds nothing but an empty hall. He rolls his shoulders, and closes his door behind him with a soft click. Guess he will just have to find his own way to the dining room.
It doesn't prove to be to difficult. The left sliding door he saw earlier when walking into the house turns out to be it. A long brown table with about twelve chairs, with a lace center piece running down the middle, candles and flowers strewn on top. Five chairs on each side, and one at each end. A large glass cabinet with expensive dishes pressed against the far wall. A ticking clock on another wall, and a window with heavy curtains to the left of the room. Just the tiniest bit of sunlight coming through them. Michael is already sat at the head of the table, his back to the door of the kitchen. Uriel on his left, Anna next to him, and Gabriel across from her. Leaving the space to Michael's right left for him.
He groans internally, Gabriel smirking at him from where he slouches in his chair sucking on a new lollipop. Castiel takes his seat, his back as straight as he can make it. Nerves coursing through him as he thinks of how he is going to talk to Michael. He grabs the cloth napkin from the table and folds it over his lap nicely. Just like the rest of his siblings, except for, of course Gabriel. Anna smiles at him from across the table, her eyes warm as she watches Castiel with interest.
Anna is the youngest of the family, only fourteen. Still a child, with no powers to be seen developing yet. Her hair is a fiery red, hanging down to her waist. And her eyes are kind, wide with child like wonder. Her skin so pale she looks to be porcelain. She is mostly a quiet and easy going girl, but she can burn just as bright as her hair sometimes. Castiel believes she will be powerful when she turns sixteen and finally develops her abilities. He has great faith in his younger sister, and hopes to see her succeed. Being the first girl in the family though, is hard for her. She is tough, being surrounded with alpha brothers all of the time. She sometimes kicks their heads back on straight, as if she was a mother and not just a young girl.
"Castiel, how are you?" she speaks, her voice small and cheerful. Red hair frames her pale face, her large eyes standing out against the harsh lighting of the dining room. Her presence alone settles Castiel, and he gives a small smile back. A smile he doesn't have to force.
"Good, Anael. And you?" He asks, actually interested in talking to his younger sibling. She smiles, shrugging her shoulder. Her eyes are taken away as the door to the kitchen swings open, and dinner is brought in and set out in front of them by two women dressed in aprons. The nice plates are filled with meat and veggies, drizzled lightly with some kind of sauce Castiel has never seen before.
They say grace, and everyone digs in, the room completely silent.
Eventually though, Uriel's dark eyes find him.
Uriel is just a couple months older than Castiel. Wedged between him and Gabriel in age. He was taken in by their father a long time ago when Castiel was just a baby. So it was like he was just as much his brother as anyone else. He sometimes seems to be older, with the way he speaks and holds himself. He is much more committed to this life than Castiel ever has been. Uriel's eyes are just as dark as his skin, those orbs holding many secrets Castiel chooses to ignore. He is just a bit taller than Castiel, and a bit shorter than Michael and Lucifer. He has always been… Deceiving. Lies spewed so tight you would never guess he wasn't telling the truth. Don't get him wrong, Uriel is a great brother, but he can be hell if he decides to do so. He wears a black suit, fitted perfectly to his bulky body, his posture perfect as he holds his silverware in hand.
His booming voice makes Castiel jump.
"Will you be attending school as well?" He asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer, Castiel hates small talk.
"Yes." He and Michael answer at the same time. Castiel glances over to his brother, Michael's eyes still on his plate as he eats. He moves his sight back to Uriel.
"Hmm." is his only response as he eyes Castiel for a moment. He holds his dark gaze, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Eventually Uriel's eyes flick back down to his plate, his lips pursed. Castiel can tell he wants to say something, but hopes, and is glad he doesn't.
"Actually-" Castiel says casually, his palms sweating as he begins to cut his meat into small pieces. "I was going to talk to you about that, Michael."
"School, I mean." He stutters, his mind racing. He can't screw this up, or he will have no chance at all in getting out of this mess.
Gabriel's head shoots up, his interest peaked, as does Anna's. They both stare at him in shock, confusion littering their faces. Where as Uriel just keeps cutting his meat into tiny portions, a small tilt to his lips.
"No." Michael says suddenly, just as Castiel is about to spill his rehearsed speech. What!?
His mind does a 350. He looks up to be met with Michael's hard blue eyes, piercing him still. Uriel's head lifts again as he raises a brow questioningly.
"We are not discussing this, Castiel." he says finally, pushing his chair away from the table and standing. He straightens out his suit, his eyes still on his brother. "Now if you will excuse me, I have some work that needs to be done before tomorrow." He nods, turning and leaving the room quietly, the sounds of his footsteps fading.
The whole table goes quiet, everyone finishing there meals in silence.
"Looks like your stuck with smelly people, crappy food, and shared toilet seats." Gabriel says after what feels like an eternity of quiet. He stands, and claps a hand on Castiel's shoulder, but his eyes are soft and apologetic as he looks down at him. Castiel cringes, his hunger gone, replaced by nerves.
"See you tomorrow, baby bro." He says, waving a hand as he leaves the room.
Uriel stares at him as he stands next, his silverware clattering on his plate as it slips from his fingers.
He clears his throat, throwing his napkin on his full plate of food. "Goodnight." he says nodding toward Anna and Uriel respectfully.
He spins on his heel, his head twirling as he attempts to keep his balance as he stumbles out of the room.
"Castiel." Comes a smooth voice from behind him, as he makes his way out into the hallway. He turns to face Anna, her eyes sad as she looks up at him. She reaches out and runs her hand over his arm, squeezing it once.
"It will be okay." She whispers, a small hesitant smile reaching her lips but not her eyes. Castiel nods, shooting back his own smile. Which he's pretty sure is just his lip twitching.
She nods, dropping her hand. "Goodnight." She says, walking off and up the stairs.
Castiel wipes a hand over his face.
He can totally do this, it's only a couple hours a day. All he has to do is go and attend class. How hard could it be?
,,,
Later as he lays in his bed, in his pajamas, the air conditioning humming through the vents in his dark room. He let's his wings unfurl from his aching back and wraps them around himself. He thinks of school, and just how nervous he is to attend. Not so much being around people, but having the ability to break them so easily. It will be a constant struggle to keep his powers to himself. He's sure he will be exhausted by the end of the school day tomorrow.
Right before he drifts off he wonders where Lucifer is, and why he wasn't here tonight like his mother had said.
Soon after he dreams of fire.
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