"Oh, when I look back now
That summer seemed to last forever
And if I had the choice
Yeah, I'd always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life"
"Summer of '69" - Bryan Adams
May 30th, 2005
Memorial Day
"Are you fucking serious?"
Castiel shares a brief, exasperated look with his little sister before she turns back to the television, and he attempts to return to his book.
"I'm going to fucking kill you, Gabriel!"
A crash from upstairs makes Castiel flinch. When delighted laughter follows, he only rolls his eyes and tries to focus on his reading. The ruckus continues, so that Castiel can only manage to read the same sentence over and over again. Apparently, Anna is having the same problem; she raises the television's volume to the point that Castiel has to turn his glare onto her. She ignores him, focused on whatever stupid music video those stupid bands she likes have put out now. Castiel sniffs, and tries to read for a moment longer, but-
"Come on, Luci, that color looks great on you!"
"This better come out or I will fucking strangle you in your sleep!"
Castiel slams his book shut and tosses it onto the coffee table. Anna snickers, but only until Cas turns around in his seat and throws his legs into her lap. "Get off me," she protests, pushing at his ankles. He settles in further, deliberately pushing his weight onto her.
"Big brother's prerogative," he teases. "I get as much of the couch as I want."
Anna rolls her eyes, but gives up anyway. Growing up with four older brothers, and the hierarchy that comes with it, she'd learned to pick her battles long ago. It's an older sibling's duty to be a little annoying. But Castiel had to put up with Michael, Gabriel and Lucifer just as much as Anna did, and usually finds himself not wanting to bother her too much. He knew what it was like.
And they both knew what it was like when their brothers were all together under one roof. Castiel and Anna got along fine. Lucifer could be distant and a little haughty, but he had taken up for Castiel a few times during the past year at school, the only year they would be at school together. Michael has a similar aloofness, but as the oldest, he carries more responsibility. He's usually left to direct and discipline his siblings when their parents are absent.
It's Gabriel who's the troublemaker, as currently evidenced when Lucifer appears at the top of the staircase with bright pink hair and hands. Anna covers her mouth with her hand, but not before Castiel catches her smile. He doesn't bother to hide his amusement, and leans over the back of the couch with a grin.
"That color is lovely on you, Luke," he calls. Lucifer grips the railing when Gabriel throws an arm around his shoulder and winks down at his youngest siblings.
"That's what I said, but I don't think he's-"
"Don't. Touch. Me," Lucifer says with a scowl, ducking out of Gabriel's embrace. "Michael's not going to be happy when he comes home and sees this-"
"Hey, hey, hey!" That Gabriel would immediately back down at the mention of Michael's name is a testament to their brother's authority. "It'll come out, just wash it a few times." Gabriel clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen. There's nobody around here that you need to impress anyway."
This isn't entirely true. The Milton family visits the seaside town of Sileas, Oregon every summer, staying in their own personal bungalow at the resort just outside of town. There are several other families there that the Milton children are expected to make nice with. But with their parents gone most of the time, the Miltons rarely make it beyond pleasantries, exchanging nods and maybe a smile or two. They keep to themselves, as long as they can get away with it, and prefer it that way.
Lucifer turns away from the railing, and a door slams where Castiel can't see. Gabriel winks at his youngest siblings before traipsing down the stairs and vaulting over the couch to join them. Water starts running upstairs, so Castiel sighs and reaches for his book, opening it again and tuning out Gabriel's teasing Anna about her obsession with pretty band boys in eyeliner.
This is one of the good times.
But of course, there are bad times too.
No one is particularly happy about Michael's promotion to parent, especially since he's only twenty-one. Despite his approaching graduation and serious disposition, at the end of the day he's only two years older than Gabriel, and they all still remember five years ago, when Michael threw up on-stage in the middle of his big choir solo.
All of the Milton children are expected to contribute to one of the family businesses once they're done with school, and Michael is just the first to achieve those expectations. He's also the only one who never really had issue with them. Gabriel has been studying marketing, but behind closed doors, he often expresses his disgust with the subject (though, if he's honest with himself, Castiel finds the psychology behind the subject fascinating, is intrigued by the idea that people could be so easily defined and made predictable by their purchases alone). Lucifer is expected to study accounting, of all things, and he's never made a secret of how stifled he feels by this decision. He picks fights with Michael or his parents as often as he has the opportunity.
It's never pretty.
Castiel wouldn't call their family broken. Not even when his brothers snarl and scream at one another, not even with their parents so often absent. They've always managed to figure things out and stick together.
But sometimes, he can't help worrying that the way Michael and Lucifer fight, with teeth bared and claws drawn, will permanently damage their family. Leave them scarred and broken. It's possible that Lucifer's threats to leave are just bluster from an arrogant boy, that Michael's taunts to go ahead are the same, but Castiel dreads the day may come that he wakes up to find his brother lost.
He and Lucifer are hardly close, but the truth is, when Castiel started ninth grade, he had struggled to find his place in a new hierarchy. The boarding school they attended split the youngest students from the oldest, and throwing a quiet, studious boy like Castiel in with the rowdy upperclassmen was like throwing a lamb to the wolves.
But Lucifer, a senior himself, had taken up for his younger brother. Introduced him to important friends, led him to study groups, and even encouraged him to try for track and field. As a freshman, Cas could only make second string, but he plans to practice and run every day this summer, and impress everyone come August. And that's all thanks to Lucifer.
But Michael has been a patriarchal presence in Castiel's life ever since their father's first novel became a bestseller and led to his increased absence in their lives. Their mother has always been in and out; her brother is a well-known televangelist preacher, and she took up the mantle of manager around the time Lucifer was born, so Castiel and Anna can't remember a time where she spent more than a few days with them before flying off to Uncle Zach's next film location. Michael is the one who ensures they haven't died or hurt one another during the day, who has control over the money their parents allow them to use for fun and for food, as well as their college funds. It's true, that sometimes the power goes to his head, but it's better than having no one at all.
So maybe their family is a little messed up, but at least they're not completely broken. At least they're all still together. And if Castiel has to spend his nights locked away in his room to get away from the fighting, then maybe that's a fair price to pay.
Tonight, however, is turning out to be particularly unbearable. Anna, who usually finds company with Castiel during the blow-outs, has just retreated to her room, and Cas can hear Kelly Clarkson singing faintly through the wall they share. Hopefully, the music is keeping Anna from hearing most of the arguing; tonight has moved beyond veiled threats and into genuinely cruel insults, and Cas is pretty sure he just heard a plate smashing against a hard surface. Which is really just going to infuriate their mother, seeing as they don't own any of the basic furniture in the bungalow.
This is probably why it takes a few moments before Castiel realizes that he is actually hearing that knocking noise. He sets his book aside and goes to open the door just enough to peer out. "Gabriel?"
"Hey, kid," Gabe's voice is unusually soft, but he attempts to smile. "Want to get out of here?"
"It's past 11," Cas responds. "Mother will be-"
"Mom's not here," Gabriel says with a roll of his eyes. "Who knows if she'll even be back tonight, and Mike's too preoccupied to notice."
'Preoccupied' is a kind way to put it, as something wooden, a table or chair, clatters against the kitchen floor. Castiel bites his lower lip. "Where are you going to go?"
Gabriel shrugs, and they both wince at the sound of another smashed plate. "Anywhere but here. I'll give you a ride into town, and then we can split up and do whatever." In the kitchen, Michael is yelling about adulthood and responsibility, and Castiel cringes.
"Will you take me to the beach?"
This suggestion is met with a frown. "The one in town? That's covered in trash and full of local yokels, you could just go to the one right here-"
"I'd probably still be able to hear them."
More smashed glass in the kitchen, and a wordless yell from Michael stops any further protests from Gabriel. "All right, come on, I'll drop you off."
Castiel pulls his shoes on before following Gabriel out the door, across the grass yard, and towards the resort's parking lot. Gabriel leads the way to Michael's car, which brings Cas up short. "He's going to be so angry with you if he finds out-"
"Don't care right now," Gabe snaps, "are you in or out?"
Castiel holds his breath for a moment, glancing back towards the field of little bungalows, their own just out of sight. He can't even think of anything he could do to entertain himself while he waits for the sun to rise and his brothers to stop fighting, but anything is better than sitting in the same house as they verbally tear each other apart. "In," he breathes, and slips into the passenger side.
The drive is short and quiet, outside of Gabriel's anxious tapping against the steering wheel, which Castiel finds easy to ignore. Quaint and worn-down little houses start appearing on the side of the road almost as soon as they're outside the resort's property, buildings with broken porches and faded paint and twenty year-old cars out front. Trees, green and lush, reach for the sky, backing away and up the hill as the town forms around the main road. There's only about five miles between the resort and the town; Castiel had run it their first afternoon here, to determine a good route to run as he built up his endurance for the track and field team, and had figured taking the main road to the opposite end of town and back would be best.
"Are you sure you want me to drop you off at the beach here?" Gabriel says, startling Castiel out of his reverie. "'Cause I'm starting to consider taking a trip out to Portland, and you could come with. We could even go back and get Anna real quick."
Castiel rolls his eyes. "You're not really going to Portland."
"Maybe I will. If I leave you at the beach, how would you know?"
"Because you wouldn't really abandon me at the beach." Castiel smiles to himself, sitting up straighter as Gabe pulls the car towards the curb. "Though, if you really do want to go, you should know that I have no problems running back home in the morning."
Gabriel raises an eyebrow, then shrugs and shakes his head. "I might just go down to the Best Western and get a room to sleep in."
"That's not the party animal I know."
"You're not supposed to have a sense of humor, kid," though Gabriel smiles anyway. "Now get out of my car."
Castiel does as he's told, and waves before he takes off down the dunes, stumbling a little as the sand grips his shoes and tries to drag him down. The beach is full of debris, but not necessarily trash, and despite the late hour, there's still a few people out and about. There's a couple to his left, cuddling under the stars; a jogger heading south, just outside the ocean's reach, and to his right, he can see the glow of a bonfire, young voices and loud music spreading across the sand.
Castiel takes a deep breath and drops to the ground, pulling his shoes off and setting them aside before leaning over his knees and staring out at the horizon. It's a pleasant night, just this side of cool, and clear enough that Cas can see constellations stretching out over the ocean. It's windy, of course, but not unbearably so, and the refreshing smell of salt is everywhere.
Cas runs a hand through his hair, then flops down on his back. Maybe he should have brought his book; it's actually quiet enough out here that he might be able to get farther than a few pages at a time. The only sound is coming from that group of kids and their bonfire, and that's faint and perhaps even a little pleasant: laughter and song is far preferable to yelling and broken glass. Lacing his fingers behind his head, Castiel watches the stars and tries not to think about his antagonistic brothers, about his absent parents, about how they might all have a happy vacation if they all actually took one. But Father never stops working, and while Mother usually heads west with her children, she takes Michael and they continue working for her brother during the day, and Michael is usually the only one home before dinner. How long will that last? Gabriel is next, how long until he becomes just as stiff and obedient as Michael? Castiel actually smiles to himself, trying to imagine any incarnation of Gabriel that might resemble Michael. It's hard to picture, Gabe in a black suit talking about demographics and projections and budgets.
Is it truly so inevitable? Does their entire family have to fall in line to stay together?
Is that a price worth paying?
Castiel still doesn't know what his place in the family business will be, but he's resigned himself to it for so long that he can't imagine doing anything else. He likes reading, and he likes running, but what kind of career can be made from-
"Shit!"
Something digs into Castiel's side, then falls across his stomach, flashing pain that forces him to sit up with a yelp. It's a scrawny boy, with dark hair falling into his eyes, and he accidentally steps on Castiel's fingers as he attempts to right himself.
"Shit," the boy says again, softer this time, as Cas winces and brings his hand protectively to his chest. "I'm so sorry, man, I didn't see you, I swear, I'm sorry." They manage to right themselves, and the boy reaches to pick up the frisbee he must have been chasing when he tripped. "Seriously, sorry."
Castiel opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by another voice, a girl yelling, "What the hell did you do, Sammy?"
"Shut up!" The boy snaps back, a blush creeping up his neck as he turns back to Cas. He's anxiously turning the frisbee in his fingers, his dark hair floating in the breeze. "Are you okay?"
"Fine, I think," Cas finally answers, getting to his feet and brushing sand off his clothes before lifting up his shirt and prodding at the flesh the boy - Sam? - had kicked. "It might bruise, but I think I'll live."
Sam winces sympathetically and softly apologizes again. "I-... Hey, are you out here by yourself?"
Castiel blinks at him, then nods.
"Why?"
A shrug is the only answer Cas feels comfortable giving.
"D' you wanna come hang out with us?"
Cas peers over the boy's head at the crowd of kids around the bonfire. A skinny blonde girl is standing just outside the circle, watching them with her hands on her hips. "I'm not sure... How old are you?"
"Eleven," Sam answers, and Castiel starts to say no, because an evening alone has to be better than hanging out with a group of children, but Sam continues, "But there's a bunch of us there. My brother's fifteen, so y'know, we're all different ages."
Oh. Panic shoots through Castiel at the thought of hanging out with local kids, what his mother would say, but he shakes it off and gives Sam a small smile. "Okay."
Sam grins back, wide and cheerful, then gestures for Castiel to follow him. Cas grabs his shoes, before doing so. "I'm Sam, if by some miracle you didn't hear Jo," Sam says. "And I'm guessing you're a tourist?"
"That's correct," Castiel answers, falling into step next to the boy. "My name's Castiel."
Sam turns to him with an eyebrow raised, then grins. "That's a weird name."
"My mother comes from a religious family, and my father has found he enjoys angel lore. Thus, myself and all of my siblings are named after angels."
A spark of genuine interest lights in Sam's eyes, but before he can ask, the blonde girl has joined them, taking the frisbee from Sam's hands and ruffling his hair before teasing, "Didn't your brother teach you how to catch?"
"There's a reason I'm not a goalie," Sam shoots back, ducking away from her touch. "Jo, this is Castiel." He slows the pronunciation, watching Cas's reaction to ensure he says it right. "Cas, Jo."
Castiel holds out a hand for her to shake, but she doesn't take it, eyeing him up instead. She's a little taller than he is, and pretty, if one can excuse her rudeness. She purses her lips and tosses her ponytail off her shoulder. "A tourist, Sam? Really? Have I taught you nothing?"
"Hey!" Sam snaps, and Castiel feels a sudden rush of affection at the boy's adorable pout. "Dean and I have only been here for a year, and you're always telling us we don't count as locals yet!"
"Yeah, but at least you've been here long enough that you're on your way to it!"
Sam opens his mouth again, but Castiel clears his throat and gives Jo a small smile. "I've been coming here with my family every summer, as long as I can remember. So technically, I've been in Sileas longer than Sam has." His smile widens as he turns it towards Sam, who laughs softly and shakes his head.
"It's pronounced 'shuh-lees.'"
"Excuse me?"
"The town." When Jo starts to giggle, Sam shoves her gently. She bites her lip and shrugs, eyes darting between the boys. "It's okay, Jo used to give us shit about it all the time, since she actually grew up here. 'Shuh-lees,' not 'suh-lee-us.'"
Castiel blinks at them for a moment longer, contemplating this. Everyone at the resort pronounces the town's name the same way he does, but considering so few of them actually go out and converse with the locals, there's a definite chance that something has been missed along the way. "Oh. I apologize."
Jo cuffs him on the shoulder and rolls her eyes. "Don't sweat it, happens to a lot of tourists. Though I'm a little surprised I've never seen you around before." At Castiel's confused stare, she nods her head towards the main road, and continues: "My mom owns the Roadhouse, just up there. Anybody who stays longer than a week usually heads our way at least once, since there aren't many other dining options." She pauses, then grins cheekily. "And we have our own brewery, but that's a whole other thing."
"Hey!" They all turn at the new voice, belonging to the small, dark-haired girl stumbling towards them. Sam suddenly blushes pink, tugging the frisbee up in an attempt to hide his face when she reaches them. "Did you guys want s'mores or not? Charlie and Andy are getting antsy!" She glances up at Castiel, assessing him before adding, "He can come too, we got the jumbo bag of marshmallows. C'mon!" And just like that, she's grabbed Sam's hand and dragged him back towards the bonfire. Castiel raises an eyebrow and glances at Jo, who rolls her eyes again.
"Sam's had a crush on Sarah since August, but he won't do anything about it." She hooks her arm through Castiel's, leading him down the same path Sarah took, his bare feet covering the smaller prints made by Sam.
"Aren't they a little young to be… doing anything?" Castiel asks, which makes Jo laugh.
"They could go to the Roadhouse and share a milkshake. My mom would probably even let them have it for free, since she loves Sam so much."
Jo carefully steps over a pile of bags and clothing, with Castiel following her example, and suddenly they're in the midst of at least a dozen other people. As promised, there are a few other children Sam's age, but the rest appear to be teenagers. Jo sticks two fingers in her mouth and whistles, loud enough that Castiel drops her arm to cover his ears. It's only when she grins at him that he realizes they have everyone's attention, and he drops his hands again, fidgeting under their curious eyes.
"Everybody, this is Cas," Jo says, gesturing to him. "He's a tourist, but he seems okay. For now." The last words carry a bit of a threat, and Castiel tries not to shrink under it. "I've gotta get back to DJ'ing, but you can go hang out with Charlie over there, and she'll take care of you." Jo claps him on the back, hard enough to send him stumbling forward, though he tries to cover it by pretending he was heading towards the red-haired girl on the other side of the fire pit.
"Are you Charlie?" Castiel asks her, and she nods, smiling brightly as she pats the empty sand beside her. He takes the seat, carefully setting his shoes aside, and smiles back. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding on your party."
Charlie shrugs. "Not that we need the excuse, but it's Memorial Day. I guess if you're an American, you're welcome." She frowns, bringing a fist up under her chin. "This is one of those hunky-dory America-Fuck-Yeah holidays, isn't it?"
"I… I suppose?" For a strange moment, they just stare at each other. It's only broken when Charlie starts to laugh.
"Peepers like yours could make a girl swoon, Cas," she says with a wink. "So tell me all about yourself, what do you watch, what do you read, what do you listen to-"
"'What do you think about in the shower?'" mocks the dark-haired boy who takes the seat on Castiel's other side, just close enough that Castiel has to scoot away, almost into Charlie's space. Charlie snorts, taking a stick when the new boy shakes a few at her.
"Wow, I am in awe of your flirting techniques, Dean. Now I know why you're still a virgin."
Dean rolls his eyes, offering a stick to Castiel and winking when he takes it. "Don't pester the kid, he'll run away and never come back."
"And that would just break your heart," Charlie shoots back, clutching her chest as if in pain.
"More gay jokes, Charlie? Aren't you just so hilarious, it's like you're a female Dane Cook."
"Oh please, I'm way funnier than that douche." She grins, stretching her arms over her head before returning her attention to Cas. "So are you gonna answer my questions three, or do I have to slay you?"
"Slay me?" Cas repeats, frowning. "Why would you-"
Dean nudges him with his shoulder. "Psst. She's kidding. Charlie thinks that she can know everything she wants to know about a person based on their likes and dislikes." He brings out a bag of marshmallows, tearing at the plastic until it opens, and he can spear one with his stick. "She's not entirely off base with that, though."
"What do you mean?" Castiel asks, taking the bag when it's offered, choosing his own marshmallow before handing the bag to Charlie. "A person's interests can be varied and occur for reasons even they don't understand." He turns to Charlie, who has a raw marshmallow in her mouth while another is blackening in the bonfire. "If I told you A Clockwork Orange is my favorite film, would you begrudge me because the lead character's a deviant?"
"Deviant's too kind a word," Charlie responds, her mouth still full. "And you're thinking about this too hard."
"It's simpler than that," Dean agrees. "It's more like... When I met Charlie in English this year, she was wearing a Red Shirt. And that was all I needed to know to know I wanted to be her friend."
Castiel frowns. "What does the color of her shirt have to do with anything? Ow!" He turns back to Charlie when she slaps his shoulder. "What?!"
"From Star Trek? Please tell me you've seen Star Trek."
"I can't say I have," Castiel sniffs, still rubbing his shoulder where she'd hit him. But Charlie only gapes at him, her mouth open wide.
"Dude," she gasps finally, "I really want to like you, so you better start giving me reasons to."
Castiel turns to Dean, who pops a browned marshmallow in his mouth before defensively putting his hands up. "Don't look at me, I'm with her on this."
Castiel sighs, finally putting his own marshmallow into the fire. "I don't watch a lot of TV," he says sullenly, drawing his knees up to his chest. Dean seems to sense his discomfort, because he puts a hand on Cas's shoulder, smiling when Cas turns to look at him.
"So? We're all nerds here, y'know? Just, there's different kinds of nerds. Charlie's a bit of a jack of all trades, but she prefers anything sci-fi or fantasy. Ash?" Dean gestures towards where Jo is sitting with another boy, his hair cut in a fashion Castiel has only seen in 80s movies. "He's a genius. Builds computers for fun. I've never seen a piece of technology beat him yet. Now listen."
It's only now, with the lull in conversation that Castiel realizes there's still music playing; he had heard it when Gabriel dropped him off, but now he's close enough to actually listen to it, to realize...
"I know this song," Castiel says quietly. It had been all over the radio for months, and even though Castiel doesn't particularly care for radio, Anna had taken to the band quite fiercely. "But I've never heard it like this before."
"Jo's a music geek," Dean says. "She wants to be a DJ, and does all her own remixes. She even wrote a few original songs!"
Charlie smiles, and points across the fire, where a dark-haired girl is playing cards with a boy who looks close to Castiel's age, and yet is skinnier than Sam, possibly because he seems to have already hit his growth spurt. "Pam and Garth over there? Pam's a psychic. She can read tarot cards, it's uber-creepy, and Garth, he's a student volunteer at the hospital on the weekends."
"I don't find that to be particularly nerdy," Castiel comments with a frown. Charlie just shrugs.
"Diff'rent strokes."
Dean jumps in again, shaking Castiel's shoulder. "So y'know, whatever you're in to? You're in to. And we're not going to judge."
Castiel studies Dean, eyes narrowed, as he retrieves his marshmallow. "What are you in to?" He asks before popping it into his mouth.
"Me?" Dean colors slightly, turning away from Castiel's gaze. "Comic books." He clears his throat, focusing on his latest marshmallow. "Now you, Cas."
Castiel has to take a moment to think about it. 'Nerd' and 'geek' are words his brothers and classmates would apply to him, but not that he would necessarily apply to himself. Especially now that he's taken to track so well. "I like math," he says thoughtfully, "and literature."
"Math is definitely geeky," Charlie mumbles, her mouth full of marshmallow again. "But what kind of literature?"
"I'm currently reading Brave New World."
Charlie cocks an eyebrow, but Dean's head pops up, eyes wide and interested. "What do you think of it?" He asks excitedly.
Cas shrugs. "It's interesting. The protagonist shift midway through was a little jarring, but mostly I find it interesting in comparison to other dystopian novels."
"Like 1984," Dean says with a smile. "They're both such different takes on a possible future, written almost twenty years apart, and yet we see elements of them both within our own society."
Castiel can't help smiling back at him. "I thought you were a comic book geek."
Dean blushes again, and awkwardly waves a hand in the air. "I like to read. Comics, how-to, classic lit, whatever."
Charlie snorts, shaking her head. "He aced English Lit, okay? They're trying to recruit him for AP his junior year, so don't let him sell himself short here." When Dean frowns, she scowls back at him. "I've told you a million times, Dean: I'm not Alastair. You don't have to play dumb to impress me."
The two glare at each other until Castiel clears his throat. He figures it's best to direct them off this subject, and says, "Give me a place to start if I want to be a geek like you guys."
Dean blinks, and Charlie starts to giggle. "Have you got all night?" She jokes.
"Probably." Castiel grins.
And the three of them get caught up in a discussion of wizards and hobbits, timelords and vulcans, vampire hunters and jedis, mutants and heroes. Castiel is familiar with some of what they're talking about, though not enough to satisfy Charlie and Dean, who start making plans for days-long movie marathons to introduce Castiel to their favorite things. Dean is a Batman fan, and gushes about Tim Sale's artwork until Charlie teases him about having a crush on the man. But Dean's embarrassment only lasts until he remembers Charlie's idolization of Hermione Granger. However much the rest of the conversation has gone over his head, Castiel is at least familiar with the Harry Potter series, so he joins in the teasing, until the two boys together have left Charlie demanding to talk about anything else, her face almost as red as her hair.
"I finally started reading that book series Becky is always talking about," she offers, pulling her hair behind her ears. Castiel laughs at Dean's dramatically disgusted face, and Charlie rolls her eyes. "It's not as incesty as she makes it out to be. It's actually pretty interesting, and the mythology is more solid than I would've expected."
Dean is still overreacting, so Castiel asks, "What series is this?"
"Supernatural, by Carver Edlund. Have you ever heard of it?"
Castiel freezes, though he quickly tries to cover for his reaction before either of his new friends notices. It isn't that hard to believe that he might meet people who have read his father's work, now that it has a new marketing machine behind it. Now that there's shirts and toys available, on top of the TV show in development, his father's fanbase has been growing exponentially, and of course people like Dean and Charlie would be aware of the series. And not for the first time, Castiel is grateful that his father opted to use a pseudonym. "It sounds familiar," he lies. "What's it about?"
"Two brothers who travel across the country and fight monsters. Totally Americana, totally creepy," Charlie answers, though Castiel already knew that. "There's something going on that has to do with hell but I don't really know what it is yet, just that it has to do with the younger brother. I'm not caught up with the books yet though."
Castiel takes a deep breath, nodding. "That does sound interesting."
"Just don't turn into Becky and we'll be okay," Dean says dismissively. "Not to change the subject or anything, but you should check that out," and he gestures over his shoulder. Down by the water, two small figures are standing close together, hands clasped. The taller shadow leans into the other's face, and Dean is practically beaming. "That's my boy."
"Did Sam finally make a move?" Charlie sounds delighted, and Castiel glances at her, frowning.
"Seriously, aren't they a little young-"
Dean backhands Castiel's shoulder and rolls his eyes. "It's not like they're sucking face or anything! Shit, it's a little hand-holding, don't be a prude."
Castiel bristles, and starts to defend himself when he looks back at Sam and Sarah's silhouettes and notices the skyline turning pink. "... It's dawn?"
Dean raises an eyebrow, and chuckles when he follows Castiel's gaze. "Looks like. We partied all night long again, Charlie."
But she doesn't respond, because she's already up helping Jo and Ash pack speakers into black cases, and Castiel pulls his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open. There's a text from Gabriel, sent somewhere around the same time Dean was explaining what the Millennium Falcon was. Got a room. I'll deal with Michael later. Run home if you don't want to do the same. "Shit," Castiel whispers as he stands, "I have to go."
"What's your rush?" Dean asks with a frown, though he gets up as well, brushing sand off his khaki shorts. "Did you sneak out or something?"
"Sort of?" Castiel hurries to get a few stretches in, though he already knows that he's risking some pain, running that far after sitting stiff for so long. "My brother will be furious if he finds out I was gone all night." Not just gone, but hanging out with townie kids. "God, but he'll already be up getting ready, and I just-"
"Hey." A steady hand grabs each of his shoulders, and Castiel glances up to see Dean standing a lot closer than he was just a moment ago. "Relax. The Best Western's right there, if you run-"
"I'm not staying at the Best Western."
Dean frowns; in the rising sunlight, Castiel realizes Dean's eyes are a light summer green, and his face is covered in sun-kissed freckles. "Then where are you staying?"
And for the first time, it occurs to Castiel that none of his newfound friends even considered that he might be from such a different world.
"The resort," Castiel answers quietly. Dean's green eyes go wide before his hands drop.
"Oh. When you said tourist, I thought…" Dean rolls his shoulders, carefully schooling a grin back on his face. "Okay, never mind, no big deal. Do you want a ride?" When Cas doesn't respond, Dean tilts his head towards the bike rack on the sidewalk. "Sam rides on the back of my bike all the time, you'll be fine."
"We're going on the highway, isn't that a little dangerous?"
Dean sighs, grabbing Castiel's wrist and dragging him up the dune. "It's like 5am, there's no one out right now, don't be a pussy." When they pass the others, Dean waves cheekily. "Jo, can your mom take Sam home?"
"Why can't you?" Jo zips up another speaker, then leans over it to glare at Dean, who releases Cas's wrist just to throw that arm around his shoulder.
"Gonna take Cas home instead."
Jo cocks an eyebrow. Castiel stares at Dean instead, wondering when they became close enough to be this tactile. They've only known each other a few hours, but Dean is acting like they've been friends for years. Then Castiel remembers that Jo and Charlie had been touchy as well: Jo had hooked their arms together, Charlie had felt no qualms about hitting him, hadn't shied away from how close he was sitting. Maybe that's just what people are like outside the stuffy confines of boarding school. So when Jo moves towards him, hugs him tight enough to make him grunt, he lets her do so, and even manages to smile when she eyes him.
"We're gonna work on you," Jo promises, her eyes serious. "Make you one of us."
"I look forward to it," Cas says, and is a little surprised by how much he means it. He genuinely likes these people, and hopes he might be able to sneak out and see them again.
"Come by the Roadhouse sometime and I'll get you a milkshake," she says with a wink. Behind her, Charlie salutes. Castiel waves at them both, then follows Dean back to the sidewalk.
"Jo likes you," Dean points out in a sing-song, smirking.
"So does Charlie." Castiel shrugs. "Sorry for stealing your girls."
The smirk drops from Dean's face. "What?"
"It's the eyes, I think," Castiel continues, nodding solemnly. "Girls can't resist blue eyes."
Dean side-eyes him for a moment, then laughs, straddling his bike. "Your humor's going to take some getting used to. Hop on." Castiel hesitates, and Dean sighs. "You sit, I'll stand, let's fucking go."
Castiel runs his hands through his hair, then does as Dean asks. It's hardly comfortable, and he grips the seat under his thighs to keep his balance as Dean starts to pedal.
At least the road between Sileas and the resort is fairly flat, or else Castiel's not sure how they would manage this. Dean might do this with Sam on a regular basis, but Sam is a skinny eleven year-old; Castiel is wiry but still mostly muscle, and a few months shy of sixteen. The bike is still faster than running, but only barely. "I'm heavier than Sam," Castiel says quietly. "It's okay, I can run." Dean grunts.
"Shut up, I'm gonna make it."
Castiel bites his lip, and grips the seat tighter as the bike wobbles.
By the time they reach the gate, Dean is sweating, and Castiel thinks that Dean needs to work on his endurance if this is going to become a regular thing. "Okay, you made it, you can let me off now. Thanks for the ride."
Dean stops, dropping his feet to the ground and twisting to watch as Cas slides off the seat. "Can I walk you to your room?"
Castiel raises an eyebrow. "Why would you want to do that?"
"I've never been to the resort. Can't a guy be curious?" Dean flashes a smile, and Castiel sighs.
"Fine. Come on."
They walk through the parking lot, one on each side of the bike. Dean is so preoccupied with the various expensive cars that the only reason he doesn't walk into one is because Cas grabs the bike's handlebars and steers them in another direction.
"Don't you live up there?" Dean asks, pointing towards the multi-story sandstone building, where valets in suits wait outside the door. Castiel shakes his head.
"It's my mother, my siblings, and me, so six of us altogether. Those rooms aren't big enough. We stay in a bungalow by the beach, like the other big families." He lifts the front wheel of the bike over the curb, leading Dean behind the building. "Though sometimes the bungalow doesn't seem big enough either," he adds under his breath.
Dean laughs. "Six of you? I can see why you ran off."
Not entirely, but it's a start. Castiel decides not to delve into the more troublesome aspects of his family just yet.
They walk through the grass in silence instead, though Castiel's mind is buzzing with questions for Dean. What it's like to live here year-round, if he plays any sports as intensely as he recites Star Wars trivia, what his family is like, who his other friends are... But he's not sure he's ready to answer questions like those himself. Not to mention, Dean seems somewhat anxious, constantly pausing to run his foot over the indentation left in the grass by the bike's tires.
"I'm glad I met you," Castiel manages to say, as they make their way behind the short line of houses. Dean glances at him, and laughs slightly.
"You just come out and say it, don't you," He murmurs. "Well then, hey, same to you, buddy."
"No, I mean it." And though Castiel doesn't feel ready to talk about his family with Dean, he does want to say this before he loses his chance. "I've been coming here with my family every year, and every year I just spend time with my siblings, bored out of myhead. There are other kids here," he gestures at the surrounding houses, towards the towering sandstone building, "but they're either gone within a few weeks, or they're entitled jerks who want to bully you as much as they want to suck up to your family."
Dean actually stops walking and looks at Castiel, who returns the favor by meeting Dean's eyes as he continues, "Within a few hours, you and your friends made me feel more accepted than I have ever felt in my many years here. So thank you."
Dean's cheeks turn rosy, his freckles rising to prominence. "That's... Well. You're welcome, I guess." They start walking again, Dean staring at his feet. "Does that mean we won't see you again? 'Cause Charlie and I were kinda serious about those movie marathons. Hate to let you go back into the world without seeing Lord of the Rings." When Castiel looks up at him, Dean is grinning again, though his cheeks are still pink.
"I'm... I would certainly like to see you all again. If you'll have me." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Dean has his phone out and is shaking it in Castiel's direction. "What-"
"Put your number in there. I'll text you after I get a couple hours sleep, and we can figure out when to hang out again."
It's a cheap little flip phone, the blue paint chipped and flaked, and it takes Castiel a moment to figure out how to program his number into it. He hands it back as soon as he's done, and Dean's smile is glowing in the morning light.
"You're gonna be a Goonie by August, Cas," Dean says with a laugh.
Castiel redirects the bike again, taking them between two identical bungalows before asking, "A Goonie?"
"Yeah," and Dean is speaking far too loudly considering the time of day, the proximity of the houses, but Castiel finds that he really doesn't care. "It's a little cheesy, but Astoria's only a couple hours from here, and we're just a bunch of misfits ourselves... Wait." Dean groans at Castiel's mystified expression. "Don't tell me you've never seen Goonies either."
"Okay, I won't tell you."
"That's first on the list. Charlie can sit on her Lord of the Rings box set, we're getting you through Goonies first, all right?"
"All right." Honestly, Castiel couldn't care less what they watch. He's just delighted that plans are being made, that Dean has his phone number, and there's a chance that he may actually have made a few friends this year.
He's so delighted, in fact, that he doesn't notice Michael standing on the tiny front porch until he hears his name being called. And his smile drops like a brick as he turns to face his brother, who looks surprisingly put-together, considering how early it is. "Michael," Castiel manages to say, manages to smile again, "I wasn't expecting you to be up so early."
"Well, I wasn't expecting to find two of my brothers missing when I woke up," Michael shoots back, "so it looks like this morning's full of surprises for everyone." His eyes dart to Dean, and Castiel suddenly remembers that, for all Dean's intentions, no matter how much they actually want to be friends, if Michael says no, then their mother says no, and Castiel will be left with his books and his siblings for the rest of the summer. Panic runs through him at the thought of losing these people before he really even has them, and Castiel lets go of Dean's bike.
"This is Dean," Castiel says, impressed by the steadiness in his own voice. "I found him and his friends at the beach, and nothing bad happened, I swear."
"The beach," Michael repeats, "do you mean this beach, or do you mean you and Gabriel disappeared into town without even leaving a note. What if Mother had come home? She would be worried sick, if she knew."
Castiel can feel Dean's eyes on him, but he doesn't turn away from Michael; that would only make things worse. "I know, I'm sorry, we just... We just needed a break."
"I have high hopes for you, Castiel," Michael continues. "You do so well in school, you always listen when Mother or I need your help. I was willing to let you continue your extracurricular activities, but if it's just going to make you behave like this, then maybe I'll have to talk to Mother about letting you back on the track team in the fall."
It's flawed logic and a poor play on his emotions, Castiel knows, but he can't help panicking at the thought of not being allowed to run with his team next year. "No! No, that won't be necessary."
"Good. We don't want you to turn out like Luke, do we?"
Maybe, Castiel thinks defiantly, but even if he might be jealous of Lucifer's ability to stand up to their brother, he doesn't want to draw the same ire towards himself. He doesn't want to contribute to the growing crack in his family's veneer. "No. Of course not."
"Good." Michael nods. "Say good-bye to your friend, Castiel. We'll finish this discussion at dinner tonight." He turns to the door, then pauses with just the right amount of dramatics. "Oh, and you'll still be expected to be up at 8 to help Anna around the house before the Talbots come for lunch, so... Don't take too long with Dean."
As soon as the door shuts behind Michael, Dean lets out a shrill noise of frustration. Castiel finally looks at him and realizes just how red his face is. "Dean, I'm sorry you had to-"
"Your brother is a righteous dick," Dean snaps, again far too loud for the time of day, let alone the possibility that Michael might still be just on the other side of the front door. "That is your brother, right? Jesus Christ, what a fucking dick."
Castiel only just keeps himself from laughing. "Yes, my oldest brother, Michael. He looks after us while Mother and Father are busy."
"Yeah, well, he's a dick," and Dean seems to be genuinely worked up, rubbing a hand over his face before gripping his handlebars so tightly his knuckles turn white. "Are all your siblings like that?"
"No. Well..." Gabriel has a tendency to be a bit of a bully, not to mention his pranks. Lucifer is arrogant and kind of a killjoy. And Anna is a 13 year-old girl, who listens to her silly music too loud and watches too much trash TV. "It's complicated."
Dean glares at him for a moment longer, then straddles his bike. "I'm still gonna call you later," he says, his jaw twitching with defiance. "And we're gonna watch movies all summer, I don't give a fuck."
"Dean," and Castiel has to pause, has to try and think of a way to have this conversation without sounding like he actually believes in what he's saying, "Dean, did you hear Michael? The Talbots are coming to ours for lunch. As in, Senator Talbot? My family spends time with very important people, and I'm expected to do so as well."
Dean's green eyes narrow. "You sayin' I'm not important?"
Castiel's already fucked this up. Maybe there never was a way to avoid it. "No, I'm saying… I meant what I said before. I appreciate what you've done, and I really do want to spend the summer watching movies with you and Charlie and Jo, but…" He struggles to think of the words, and sighs. "I like you guys. My family won't."
"So?" Dean rolls his eyes. "You snuck out last night, who's to stop you from doing it again? You shouldn't let your family dictate your entire life for you. Besides, you said Talbot?" He smirks. "As in, Bela Talbot?"
Castiel thinks about it for a moment, trying to remember anything about the senator's daughter. "I think that's her name?" She's around Castiel's age, genuinely pretty and attending an expensive British boarding school, so of course his family had tried to push them together last year. Unfortunately, she had also been just as pompous as any other resident Castiel had ever met, and the two of them hadn't hit it off very well. "Why?"
"She's not too important to go hanging out with my friends in the woods on warm nights," Dean says in a sing-song, then laughs at Castiel's confused expression. "I remember her from last summer. She used to sneak out and drink with us in the woods behind the school. All things considered, I never would've guessed she was a senator's daughter."
Castiel tilts his head in confusion. "You guys drink?"
"What? Oh!" Dean turns away, running a hand through his hair. "I meant my other friends. Not Jo and everyone you've met. Other people."
Castiel squints thoughtfully. "You drink?"
"Only with them. Look, this isn't what I was talking about." Dean shakes his head, testing his balance on the bike. "I just wanted to make a point about standing up to your family. If Bela can sneak out and run around and get in trouble, why can't you?"
And it's a good point, all concerns about Dean's behavior aside. Castiel sighs, rubbing his eyes. "I'll try."
"You better." Dean claps Castiel's shoulder and grins. "I'll see you 'round, Cas."
He waves before taking off through the grass, apparently no longer concerned about the trail left by his bike tires. Castiel chuckles to himself as he watches Dean go, then turns to head back into the bungalow. It's been a long, exciting night. A couple hours of sleep are better than none, especially when he's facing an afternoon with Bela Talbot.
May 31st, 2005
Dean calls that afternoon, as promised. Unfortunately, it's while Castiel is sitting in the kitchen with Bela, watching her fix her make-up. He'd rather be doing anything else, especially sleeping (and if he can get away with it, he might fall asleep right here at the table), but again, his mother and the senator have decided their children should be friends and shooed them off on their own, completely oblivious to the fact that Bela and Castiel have nothing in common outside their wealth.
His phone goes off just as Bela is touching up her lip liner, surprising her enough that she drags a pink line down her chin. Castiel laughs without thinking, and ducks away from her glare as he flips his phone open. "Hello?"
"Cas!" Dean must have gotten significantly more sleep than Cas did, because he sounds downright perky. "Told you I'd call!"
"Hello, Dean," Cas yawns. "I'm glad you did." Bela cocks an eyebrow in Castiel's direction, and he turns away from her, willing her to turn back to her little pink compact and continue ignoring him.
"Yeah? What are you up to? Is the senator still there?" A small voice pipes up in the background, interested in the senator, and Castiel smiles as Dean tells his brother to shut up and go away.
"Yes, but lunch will be over soon, and I'm certain he has other appointments to attend to."
"Then you could come out tonight? We were gonna go to the arcade. Jo and Charlie get really competitive on DDR, it's something to see." Dean's laugh rumbles down the phone. Castiel rubs his temples.
"I haven't talked to Michael yet."
"So? Fuck it! Come out anyway! We won't be out late or anything, I have to take Sam to soccer practice in the morning and Jo has to help her mom with inventory."
"Dean..."
"C'mon, Cas, it's summer break. You deserve to have a little fun."
"Do I? You don't know. Maybe I'm a slacker at school." Bela is staring at him again, but Dean is laughing, so Castiel shifts away from her again.
"I doubt that, for some reason," Dean chuckles. "They have ski-ball. And table hockey. It'll be fun."
Castiel sighs. "I'll ask Gabriel if he can take me. Okay?"
"Just be there. It's the arcade on Main Street, we're meeting up at 7:30, and Pam said she'd bring pizza, so don't be late."
"I won't," Castiel promises, just as he realizes he's actually going to do whatever it takes to be there. If he has to run into town and back, he'll do it. Dean is right; his family wants him to be friends with Bela, who has only shown an interest in him while he's been on the phone. Maybe it is time for Castiel to start finding and taking things for himself, to start making his own decisions.
"Good," Dean says, sounding pleased. "I'll see you tonight."
"Tonight. Good-bye, Dean."
"Later, Cas."
Castiel shuts his phone before rounding on Bela. "What?"
"Didn't know you had friends," Bela comments with a shrug. The kinder part of Castiel wants to believe that she means 'in town,' but the logical part of him recognizes she's just being rude."Total shot in the dark, but that wasn't Dean Winchester was it?"
And Castiel realizes he doesn't know Dean and Sam's last name. "Uh."
"Dark hair, green eyes, tons of freckles and a pout to die for?" She sighs softly. "Poor little townie boy?"
Castiel scowls without meaning to; she makes Dean sound like some pretty plaything to be pitied. "Winchester. Yeah."
"I had no idea you went for that kind of crowd." Bela appraises Castiel, as if seeing him in a new light. "Maybe you're not as boring as I thought you were."
"Thanks," Cas says drily. "What kind of crowd is that?"
"Booze and sex and vandalism." She turns back to her compact, playing with her bangs, even though Castiel thinks her hair looks fine. "Y'know. Fun."
Castiel yawns again, and wonders if maybe it's not the same Dean after all. The crowd last night had been drinking soda and making s'mores, and had interacted with each other with a fraternal kind of familiarity. Charlie and Jo's teasing of Dean wasn't even flirtatious, let alone sexual. Then Castiel remembers that Dean had known Bela from parties in the woods, and Charlie's reference to someone named Alastair. "With Alastair?"
Bela looks up at him again, surprise in her heavily-mascara'd eyes. "I've never seen you out there before, how do you know these people?"
"I only know Dean, I just picked up Alastair's name in conversation."
Bela cocks an eyebrow, then snaps her compact shut, tucking it back in her purse. She leans across the table, closer to Castiel than she's ever been; he can feel the warmth exuding from her skin, and his heartbeat skips slightly.
"If you're interested, I could take you to one of their parties."
Castiel forces himself to look at her eyes. "What?"
Bela bites her lip, then grins. "Alastair, Azazel, Lilith, they know I'm in town for the summer. Whenever they go out to the woods, I get a call to join them. I could take you with me, next time they call." She lifts a hand to brush through Castiel's already unruly hair. A little voice in his head is trying to tell him she's playing with him; if Dean is a toy, Castiel can be one too. But he can barely hear it over the rush of delight that comes from her attention. He shifts in his seat and smiles.
"Okay. That, that sounds great."
Bela withdraws her hand and smirks. "All right, then. It's a date." She leans back in her chair, pulling her phone out of her purse and turning her attention away from Castiel, who's left in a bit of a daze.
"When?"
She shrugs, now disinterested. "Don't worry about it. I'll come get you." And then she's the one turning her back on Castiel to chat with her friends, leaving him feeling confused, nervous, and a little dirty.
June 5th, 2005
Michael had made it very clear that he didn't approve of Gabriel and Castiel sneaking out late at night, and not to do it again (which means, Castiel is pretty sure, he can't go out with Bela; he can't decide if he's disappointed or relieved). But, under pressure and with their mother's approval, Michael had decided to allow them both to continue to go out as long as there were no appointments for the day, and they came home before curfew. He had insinuated, several times, that he didn't like Castiel hanging out with the locals, but Gabriel is willing to encourage any dissent in the ranks, and had surprisingly agreed to cover for Castiel whenever he wanted to spend time with his new friends.
So while Michael currently believes that Castiel is in Seaside with Gabriel and Anna, the truth is that Castiel is spread out on the Winchester's couch, his legs tangled with Charlie's, while Jo is laid out on the floor hogging the popcorn, and Dean is curled up in a tattered armchair, paying attention to the notebook he's doodling in rather than the movie on the screen. Castiel is genuinely curious about what Dean's drawing, but whenever he strains to try and peek, Charlie punches him in the thigh and points at the TV.
Castiel adapted to their tactile nature faster than he expected to. It's actually quite comfortable, and while sometimes he catches his brain going in certain directions it shouldn't go when Charlie or Jo move in for a hug, all it takes is a quick reminder of how hard they both can punch before that train of thought is gone. That's the thing about it: the group just loves to lay all over each other, to hug and touch, but they're just as quick to slap and shove and occasionally bite. It's a double-edged sword, but Castiel finds that whether comfort or pain, the sensation makes him feel accepted. Moreso every day.
Dean had ended up losing the fight, and Charlie had insisted on the Lord of the Rings trilogy first. Having to work around Castiel's restrictions meant that it took a few days to get through all the extended editions, which may have played into how Castiel thought the films dragged at times, but overall he had enjoyed them, and it had made Charlie happy. Now, they're finally watching Goonies, complete with trivia commentary from Dean and Jo. As the kids on the screen stumble up the beach towards their parents, Dean sits up and points at the screen.
"That's Cannon Beach! It's just about an hour north of here, you'd love it, Cas."
Castiel's not sure why Dean thinks so, but he laughs softly. "Does it still have the pirate ship?"
"Shut the fuck up, no one cares about your sass right now."
Jo twists around to throw a few pieces of popcorn in Dean's direction, and Dean flips her off, just as the front door opens and Sam traipses in, followed by a blonde woman weighted down with paper bags. Jo and Charlie almost harmonize their, "Hello, Mary"s, and Dean scowls, throwing a pencil at Sam as he passes.
"You can't help Mom with those bags?"
Sam sticks out his tongue at him, and waves at everyone else, ignoring Dean when he raises a middle finger in Sam's direction. Castiel had asked Dean, that second night out at the arcade, why he and Sam were so close that they hung out together outside the house, and even blurred the lines of who was friends with whom. It struck Castiel as a little odd, especially with their age difference. But Dean had shrugged it off, asking if it was a problem, and dropping the subject as soon as Castiel insisted it wasn't. On that matter, Castiel has never met Dean's parents before either. They either go out as a group, or no one's home while they hog the TV. Castiel glances at the clock under the TV, and sits up as Charlie gets up to choose another movie. It's only early afternoon. What is Dean's mother doing home at this time of day?
"Hi Cas!" Sam says, breaking his train of thought. "How's your bruise?"
Castiel laughs softly and lifts up his shirt to show Sam the yellowing bruise under his ribs. Sam winces, and immediately sets off a pair of apologetic puppy eyes. "It's just a bruise, Sam, don't worry about it."
"I'm still sorry," Sam pouts. He's covered in dirt and sweat, and his mother nudges him as she passes.
"Go shower, Sammy. Dean! You come help me in the kitchen."
Dean rolls his eyes and sighs, but shuts his notebook and starts to take it into the kitchen. "Don't press play until I get back."
Charlie waves dismissively, still sorting through DVD cases and trying to make a decision with Jo. Castiel watches them for a moment, feeling slightly out of place, then gets up to try and find Dean.
He heads down the hallway, past the basement stairs and through the dining room, towards an open pair of pocket doors near the back. Peering in, he can see Dean shuffling around by the fridge, digging groceries out of bags and putting them away. Mary is by the stove, pulling out a large pot and setting it up on one of the burners. She looks up and smiles when she sees Castiel.
"Hi there!" And she's really quite lovely, with a smile that matches Dean's. "You must be the new guy I've been hearing so much about."
Heat rises in Castiel's cheeks, but he steps into the kitchen anyway, holding out his hand. "Hello. My name's-"
"Cas," she finishes warmly, shaking the offered hand. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. Sorry I haven't been around." She glances sheepishly around the room. "I work so much, the boys kind of have to take care of themselves most of the time."
"Where do you work, Mrs. Winchester?" Castiel asks to be polite, but he doesn't miss Dean's frantic glance in his direction. His mother just shrugs and gives Cas a gentle smile.
"Call me Mary, please. 'Winchester' is such a mouthful," she laughs. "I'm a waitress. If you're in town for the summer, I'm sure you'll find me bustling around somewhere. Dean!" She sets her spoon down, and Dean folds up the paper bags and sets them atop the fridge before turning to look at her. "Can you take care of dinner? I'm going to go say hi to the girls, then take a little nap before my shift starts."
Dean gently shoves his mother away from the stove with a brilliant smile. Mary kisses his temple, and squeezes Cas's shoulder as she passes him.
"Sleep well, Miss-... Mary," Castiel wishes after her, leaning back against the counter to watch Dean cook. "Is this typical for you?"
Dean's shoulders tense. "Shouldn't you be back with Jo and Charlie? I thought we were gonna watch Indiana Jones."
"Yeah. We." Castiel rolls his eyes. "They're going to wait for you as much as they're going to wait for me. Soooo…"
Dean huffs, reaching into one of the cabinets overhead, pulling out chicken broth and a bag of noodles. "My mom works three jobs. She splits her time between the Roadhouse, Fulio's, and and the Seaside Cafe."
"Why?"
Dean moves around the kitchen, taking pulled chicken, a few carrots, and an onion out of the fridge, then grabbing a couple carving boards from a cupboard and shoving one into Castiel's hands. "If you're gonna hang out in here, you're gonna help. That's the rule."
Castiel blinks in surprise, but Dean just sets a couple knives on the counter, rinses the vegetables, and holds the carrots out. After a moment, Castiel takes them, setting the carving board down, and spreading the carrots out. Dean sets up next to him and actually grins, nudging his shoulder as he starts to chop the onion. "Ever done this before, rich boy?" Castiel scowls, picking up his knife and starting to cut through the carrots one by one. Dean laughs softly and shakes his head. "Don't hurt yourself there."
"Why does your mother work three jobs?"
The smile falls off Dean's face. "You don't let up, do you?"
"Why should I?"
"I don't know, because some people like to keep things to themselves? I thought rich people were all about privacy." Dean laughs when Castiel makes a face at him. "What?"
"My family's money doesn't define me." Castiel rolls his shoulders, trying to focus on his carrots, trying to prove something to Dean. "I'd rather not be alienated for it."
"You're not being alienated, I'm just teasing." But Dean sounds somewhat apologetic as he sighs. "It's… okay. My parents got divorced when I was six. Technically, my dad should be helping out, but for various reasons…" He shrugs, his voice dropping. "He doesn't. Or can't. It's a little of both. Just. Yeah. Mom has to work to keep the house and keep us fed and sometimes Ellen and Bobby help out, but we try not to lean on them too much."
Dean takes his carving board back to the stove and pushes the chopped onions into the pot, then returns to examine Castiel's carrots. "Not too bad," he hums, winking as he brings the carrots over to join the onions. Castiel feels a rush of pride at his words, though he's not sure why. Still, he can't help smiling, leaning back against the counter again as Dean continues working on the soup..
"It's actually very impressive that your mother can balance three jobs," Castiel comments while Dean's back is turned. "And still manages to be as good a mother as she can be."
"She's the best mom," Dean says stiffly. "And Bobby says that as soon as I turn sixteen, he'll take me on at the garage so I can help her out, and maybe she won't have to work so much."
Castiel frowns, leaning back over the counter and wincing when something digs into his shoulderblades. "That's not your job," he says as he turns to see what was digging into him: the notebook Dean was doodling in. His eyes dart to Dean, whose back is still turned, and carefully opens the book to the first page.
It's Jo. It's messy and a little cartoony and done all in pen, but it's clearly Jo, laughing at something unseen. Surprised, Castiel flips through the pages.
"My dad won't step up, and it's not fair for my mom to bear all this burden." Dean says as Castiel admires a sketch of Charlie with elfin ears (or possibly Vulcan; he can't tell the difference yet). Half of him is saddened by Dean's resolve to play a role that's not his; the other half is absolutely taken by Dean's sketches. A child, probably Sam, kicking a ball around. Batman, Ironman, Luke Skywalker… Castiel stops short when he turns to the next page, gasping softly, only to have the notebook torn out of his hands. He glances up to see Dean glaring at him, clutching the notebook to his chest.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean asks, his voice low. "Shit, do you have no respect for privacy? I'm telling you about all the shit my mom goes through, and that's not enough, you've gotta dig through-"
"Was that Kyriel?" Castiel breathes. A blush crawls up Dean's neck as he clutches the notebook to his chest.
"Gesundheit?" he responds weakly, trying to smile.
Castiel rolls his eyes. "Stop. That's Kyriel. Angel companion to Jared and Jensen in the Supernatural book series."
"I thought you didn't read those books."
"Yeah, you said you didn't read them either." Castiel narrows his eyes. "Was that him?"
Dean fidgets for a moment, apparently uncomfortable, but finally sighs, letting his shoulders drop. "Yeah. Yeah, it's Ky." He runs a hand through his hair and tries to smile. "I know he's new, but he's already my favorite."
Castiel smiles back, slowly. Where his father had created Jared and Jensen, the masculine-but-emotive stars of his book series, from his own head, there are other characters within the over-arching story that are based on his children. It's one of his rare displays of love, especially towards Castiel, whose mother had saddled him with an unusual and clumsy name. The only thing worse would be to have that name in a popular book series. Thankfully, his father had based the angel on him, but given the character a different name.
Dean's favorite character had been written in Castiel's honor.
So Castiel smiles. "Mine too." A deep breath in. "Your drawing is perfect."
It takes a moment, but finally Dean's smile starts to look more genuine. Shy. But genuine. "You really think so?"
"It's just like I pictured him. Trenchcoat and everything." Castiel laughs softly, and Dean runs a hand through his hair, eyes cast downwards.
"I have. Better drawings. If you'd like to see them sometime."
"Better than that?"
Dean shrugs bashfully. "In color."
"Then sure. I'd love to see them."
There's a moment where all they're doing is smiling at each other, and it's pleasant. Comfortable. Like they've known each other for years, not days; like their friendship is something already established, not still in development. And Castiel realizes he genuinely likes Dean. This isn't loneliness, or desperation for contact outside of his family. It's not like the business connections he's been encouraged to make at school. Dean is overly defensive, and his family is struggling financially, but Castiel likes his sense of humor, is interested in his interests, and admires his passion and his talent. And apparently, Dean likes something about him.
And Castiel feels happy.
Dean slings an arm around Castiel's shoulders, laughing slightly. "C'mon, Cas. I'm sure the girls are sick of waiting for us to get our shit together."
"The soup?" Castiel tries, but Dean's already dragging him back out into the hallway.
"It's gotta cook for an hour. So what do you want to watch next? Indiana Jones or Firefly?"
