Arriving at the park, Dean set Sammy down on the grass and watched him toddle off towards the sandbox. Dean chuckled and followed his little brother, glancing around at the empty playground. It was a relief to Dean that the park was so empty. The people in Lawrence were gossip bloodhounds, and if they saw Dean's cheek with the bruise already forming and swelling, it would spread faster than a wildfire in a dry field. Dean already knew that people still whispered to themselves about the death of this mother, even if it was two years ago.
Sighing, Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and plopped down on the grass near the sandbox where Sammy was gleefully digging a hole in the middle of the sand, trying to find the bottom. Dean looked down at his feet, the long grass waving over his sneakers in the wind.
The wind stung his cheek where his father's hand had struck him. Dean's eyes pricked and his cheeks began to feel hot. Dean knew he could cry here since he was alone, but it was hard to not hold back. Dean had always held back for fear of presenting himself as weak and scaring Sammy. Sammy relied on Dean's strength and he knew it, so Dean had become accustomed to putting his own feelings aside and building up a wall to support his little brother by sharing his strength.
But now, his walls crumbled and hot tears streaked down his cheeks in long trails, dripping down into his lap and vanishing in the grass. Dean's vision began to blur and obscured his vision. The green of the grass became a blurred blob and his chest ached with unfulfilled sobs, longing to be set free, to escape the hold his lips formed. Dean sniffed loudly and wiped at his nose with his sleeve. He dragged the heel of his palm across his cheeks, wincing slightly at the searing contact on his left cheek from the bruise. Dean rubbed his eyes dry of tears and looked up at Sammy.
Sammy was still digging gleefully and obliviously in the rough sand, laughing every now and then as sand flew across the box when he threw it with his shovel. Dean smiled softly before looking back down at the grass around his feet. Dean liberated his hands from his pockets and reached out, gripping a blade of grass in between his fingers and yanking it forcefully out of the ground. He glared at it with all the hate he knew he needed to release. It was hard for Dean to be able to hold a grudge against his father when he knew the reason his father did these terrible things to him was because of the liquid in the brown bottle. Dean sighed through his nose and began to rip up the blade of grass, shredding the fragile plant into pieces. Dean reached for another blade of grass, glancing up at Sammy as he did so.
Dean's fingers froze around the blade of grass and his eyes swept across the scene in front of him. Dean's pulse pounded in his head, drowning out any other noises around him. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest, fluttering like a trapped bird against his ribs. Sammy…Dean's mind raced.
Dean released the blade of grass and scrambled to his feet. "Sammy!" he yelled. Dean whipped around in a full circle; his eyes raking across the expanse of the park for his little brother's toddling form. "Sammy!" he shouted again, his voice cracking with desperation. "Sammy!" A warm feeling began to swell up behind Dean's eyes as the threat of tears began to overwhelm him. Dean's breath came short and fast as he rushed over to the sandbox, hoping that there would be footprints to show him where his brother had gone. As he reached the edge of the box, however, he stopped short, confusion taking over. The hole that Sammy had been digging dropped down farther than it should have, way farther. The hole extended down past where it should have ended at the bottom of the box, down into the earth. Dean scrambled over the wall of the sandbox and peered down the hole.
"Sammy!" Dean called down, relief causing his voice to break. At the bottom of the hole was Sammy, waving his shovel around triumphantly and laughing. But down there with him was another boy, one who Dean was sure he had never seen before and who had not been with Sammy the last time Dean had looked up.
Upon hearing Dean's voice, the boy looked up at him. The intensity of the boy's eyes made Dean's breath catch in his chest. The boy had short but slightly rumpled dark brown hair, almost the same color as the dirt he was sitting in. He wore a light brown coat and blue shirt with jeans. But what caught Dean's breath were his eyes. The boy's eyes were blue, the bluest blue Dean had ever seen in a human's eyes. There was no other color mingled there, just pure, bright blue.
Those eyes seemed to bore into Dean, reaching past his front and delving deep into his soul, into his mind, seeing everything Dean ever had and things even he had forgotten, or forced himself to forget. Dean felt exposed like he never had before, but no matter how hard he pulled, the boy's gaze held him fast and he was spellbound. Dean's breath quickened, as the world around him faded away and his vision became tunnel point on this one boy. Dean didn't know why this was happening, but there was something about this boy that captivated Dean like nothing else had.
Dean was suddenly snapped out of his reverie when the boy looked away. He only moved his gaze a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to break the intense connection that had formed between them like a storm about to break. Dean found himself scrambling backwards and breathing hard, his breath forming at his lips in the crisp air. Dean wiped at his forehead and upon removing his hand, he found it coated in sweat. Dean wiped his brow with his coat sleeve until it was dry. His heart still pounding, Dean looked around to see if anyone else had entered the park while this whole ordeal had been occurring. Thankfully, the park was empty.
Dean steadied his breathing and crawled to the edge of the hole again. Peering over the edge until he could see his brother and the boy again. Dean then hauled himself forwards until his arms and shoulders hung over the edge with his head.
"Are you two alright down there?" he called out, not knowing what else to do.
The brown-haired boy looked up and fixed Dean with his blue gaze again. This time, however, it was not as alluring, not as captivating. Dean wasn't sure if that was because he was used to the gaze now, or because the boy was holding back. Staring into the aqua depths of the boy's eyes, Dean went with the latter.
The boy couldn't have been much older than Dean, if at all, but there was still something, some aura about him that presented him as far past the maturity of a six-year-old.
The boy's voice yanked Dean from his thoughts with a swift jerking motion it felt like.
"Yes, we both appear to be in good condition." The boy's voice surprised Dean. It was the normal voice of a boy, higher than it would be once he was older, but still was touched with subtle hints of a gravelly undertone. The sound could be compared to a sweet melodic tune or a soft, distant roll of thunder. It entranced Dean for a moment too long and the boy tilted his head to the side, confusion painting his features.
"Are you all right?" the boy called in the hypnotizing voice.
Dean shook his head quickly, flinging the thoughts that danced across his mind, and then nodded in response, unable to find his voice. Dean cleared his throat and then responded in a pitched voice, "Yes, yes I'm fine."
Dean stabled himself mentally and then peered around the walls of the hole, trying to figure out how it had gotten here in such a small amount of time and so soundlessly as well.
"What happened? How did this hole get here?" Dean called down. The hole couldn't have been more than five feet deep but with the three boys being young and small, it seemed to be larger than it really was.
The boy locked eyes with Dean again, something that he did often Dean was learning, and tilted his head again. "I helped your little brother dig it," he said as if it were obvious.
Dean looked down at the brown hair boy and tried to detect a hint of amusement to show he was joking, but found none in the blue depths.
"You're joking. There's no way you could have dug this thing with that shovel in less than five minutes. What really happened?" Dean's voice held hints of exasperation, showing that he really just wanted a straight answer and then get his baby brother out of the hole.
The boy held Dean's eyes and responded, "I've told you what really happened. Your brother wanted a large hole to be dug for enjoyment so I willed it and it was done."
Dean looked at the boy skeptically. "Okay. Sure. Well, you think you could somehow will yourself and my brother out of this hole so I can take him home where he's safe?"
Dean's voice hitched slightly on the last word. Safe. Their house had not been safe in a long, long time. Not since Mary had died. Dean shook his head and looked back at the boy.
Dean was startled to find pity shining in his eyes. The boy looked at him and said, "Why do you lie? You know that anywhere but your house would be safer because of your father and his habit. You have done nothing to deserve the pain and torture that your father inflicts on you so that he may not bear it himself."
Dean stared down at the boy in complete and utter shock. How did he know about his dad? How did he know anything about him when they had never even met before? Dean's shock was soon overtaken by anger.
"Just get your butt out of the hole and bring my brother with you," Dean snapped.
Suddenly, Dean was staring down at an empty hole. He had blinked for a moment and the two were gone. Dean scrambled to his feet and whirled around, finding the boy placing Sammy on the ground carefully before looking at Dean.
Dean could do nothing but stand there, staring in slack jawed shock. Before he knew what was happening, the boy came up to Dean and reached out, his small hand moving towards Dean's face.
All of Dean's instincts told him to flinch, to duck, to run, anything to prevent getting hit again. But something stilled him. The boy's hand had no force behind it at all. He approached Dean as if he were approaching an animal that he was trying not to startle in case it bolted or retaliated. Dean simply stared at the boy who stared back at him with those alluring eyes. Everything seemed to pinpoint on one another's gaze, each locked firmly on the other.
The boy's hand moved ever closer to Dean's face, the short little fingers extending towards his cheek. Before Dean knew it, the coolness of the boy's fingertips was pressed against the stinging flesh of his bruised cheek. Dean was shocked by the gentle touch the boy possessed and his mind raced back to his mother's touch against his will, resurfacing the painful memories of when his mother would comfort him with a simple touch.
Dean lingered in the boy's contact for a fleeting moment before the reality of the situation caused him to jerk away quickly, his fingers coming up to touch his cheek protectively.
The little boy looked at Dean in confusion, his head tilting to the side once again. "Is there something wrong?"
Dean took a moment to recover his senses; the shock of being touched so gently had sent him reeling. Dean shook his head, clearing his mind before responding.
"Yes, there is. I don't know you, and that was not normal. I don't even know your name!" Dean was starting to become angry again with the boy. Who did he think he was?
The boy seemed to be pondering Dean's protests. He surprised Dean by nodding his head after a moment.
"I agree. We know nothing about the other it seems."
Dean, flustered, shook his head slowly. He no longer had any kind of grip on the situation.
"Dean," he finally said. "My name's Dean. Dean Winchester."
The boy nodded and started to walk away, touching Sammy's hair and ruffling it slightly as he passed the younger boy.
Dean walked over to Sammy and stared the back of the boy's receding figure.
"Wait!" he called out, causing the boy to stop but not turn around. "You never told me your name!"
The brown haired boy stood stone still for a moment, Dean looking at the back of his head, entranced by the slight curl of his dark hair. Dean began to wonder if he was ever going to get an answer from the boy when he finally turned slightly and locked Dean in that sapphire gaze again.
"Castiel," was all he said before turning back around and leaving the park.
A/N: Sorry this was so short and so long to wait for! I forgot to put in the last chapter that I'm going to be updating on Saturdays and Sundays for this. Anyways, hope you guys like this! R&R and ENJOY!
