I have not forgotten about this story, I promise, I've been working on it... for a year or more... definitely more. Here's another chapter, I'm really making John into a evil SOB so, please be aware of the abuse, it's pretty intense in this chapter, not graphic, well at least not the actual abusing part, but the descriptions of wounds. A summery of this chapter: Cas and Dean get closer and everyone contemplates Power Rangers and the future.
"I'm going to miss this," Sam says as they're sitting on the back porch, watching the sun set and sipping at their beers, listening to Cas and Bobby banter through the open window to the kitchen.
"What, Bobby's cooking?" Dean shoots back and Sam chuckles.
"No, I definitely won't miss that; just this," he says and waves a hand around encompassing the backyard and his brother.
"It is a pretty epic backyard," Dean agrees, and it is, Bobby's house sits on over an acre of land, a large part of it is green lawn that both boys had grown up mowing.
"Dean," Sam says, exasperated and his brother smiles at him, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest at the thought of his brother leaving.
"Aw, are you gonna miss me Sammy?" he teases and Sam chucks a napkin at his head.
"No, I'm just afraid you'll work yourself to death with me gone," the other shoots back and Dean rolls his eyes.
"I've got Cas now," he reminds his brother, "we'll be too busy humping like bunnies for that."
"God you're gross," Sam moans and leans his head back against the chair behind him to stare up at the darkening sky.
"What's eating you little brother?" Dean asks after several quiet moments and the younger brother sighs.
"Nothing, forget it," he says with a shake of his head.
"No, you're not getting out of it that easily, what's up?"
"It's stupid, I'll sound like a kid," Sam goes on and takes another swig from his bottle but realizes it's empty and he scowls at it.
"You are a kid," Dean points out and hands over the rest of his beer, it's nearly full, it was his second and he had only taken it because they were celebrating Sam's graduation.
"It's just..." he starts while staring at the label on the bottle and starts to peel it back, "I'm going to be across the country."
"Well aware of that kiddo," Dean points out, he has counted the miles and the time it would take him to drive to California, there was no way he is going fly there.
"I know, but as whiny as this sounds, we've never been separated for more than a day or so our whole lives, and honestly, I'm terrified."
"We've been separated plenty of times," Dean says, swiping the bottle back and taking a drink before handing it back.
"When?" Sam demanded and Dean had to think about it, growing up, he had raised Sam and he was there for everything, so terrified of losing the one person who loved him, he rarely let him out of his sight.
"You had sleep overs," he finally replied and Sam huffed out a breath.
"Those were usually only for one night, and dad would freak out whenever I did."
"True," Dean said, nodding, he had tried to get Sam out of the house as often as he could, he and Jo had been best friends growing up and he had spent a lot of time with the Harvelle's. Their dad did get antsy when he went though, afraid Sam might let something slip, like the town didn't know he was beating the shit out of his sons.
"Well there was that one time when dad locked me in the basement for three days, remember, we were separated then," he points out and Sam scowls at him.
"I try to forget that, actually," he snaps and tears at the label on the bottle viciously.
Dean had been nine, Sam five, it was a month after the first time that his father had struck him, after he had started in on Sam on that fateful day that Dean had moved between them again. John had been furious and grabbed Dean by the arm and shoved him through the door to the basement and closing it behind him, turned the lock that was on the outside with a key that he pocketed.
Dean hated that basement, the steps were wood and bare and led to a room that ran the length of the house. It was unfinished, concrete floor and bare walls with just the frame outlining what was once supposed to be a large living area with extra rooms that John and Mary had planned to fill with children. Now though it was a skeleton of a future that would never be, the windows were barred to keep anyone from breaking in and one was broken, sending chilled winter air through.
Dean had yelled and banged on the door, terror at being in the room, in the dark alone, begged and pleaded to be let out but he had been ignored. Sometime later, Dean had yelled himself hoarse, and was huddled against the door on the top step when the light went out above him and terror seized him again. He could see the light from the kitchen still, but soon that went off too, plunging him into total darkness. He curled into himself as much as he could, trying to keep warm though he shivered and tears fell down his cheeks.
Some time later, he was awoken by someone whispering his name and he found the light from a flashlight shining under the door.
"Dean, are you ok?" Sam said as he lay on the floor trying to look through the gap at the bottom.
"Sammy, what are you doing?" Dean hissed through chattering teeth and watched as the younger boys fingers squeezed through the gap.
"I wanted to check on you," he whispered.
"I'm fine Sammy, go back to bed before dad catches you," Dean wasn't there to protect him, so having John catch Sam out of bed was dangerous.
"I'm sorry Dean," was the reply and he could hear the tears in his younger brother's voice, so he reached down and pushed his fingers through the gap, where Sam had retracted his a moment before.
"It's ok Sam," he tried to reassure him, "I'll be fine, but you need to go back to bed, please." Dean felt Sam's little fingers wrap around his for a moment before they pulled away.
"I'll come back tomorrow," he whispered and was gone.
The next day he was awoken by the cold, he couldn't feel his fingers or toes where they were both bare, but there was light coming through the windows at least. Moving stiffly, he made his way down the steps, over the freezing floor and looked around. He rarely came down here, he only did so to do laundry and tried to get back upstairs as fast as he could when he was done. He found some towels and a blanket in the dryer and used it to warm them before pulling them out and wrapping himself in them.
When he heard movement above him, he rushed to the door and banged on it, begging to be let out again but was ignored, John yelling at both he and Sam to shut up when Sam joined Dean's pleas.
He spent the next two days in the basement, there was a sink down there where he could get water, and some canned food, but no can opener. He spends the night next to the washer and dryer and kept the blankets and towels warm with the dryer. He uses a piece of cardboard to cover the hole in the window, it helped some, but not enough. On Sunday as Dean was sitting in his spot, covered in the blanket and towels, John finally opened the door and Sam met him half way up the stairs. The younger boy was sporting a black eye and Dean nearly went after his dad but Sam begged him not to, afraid their father would lock him in the basement again. Dean had gone down later and put a flashlight near the stairs and hid some food as well as blankets, just in case.
Over the next year, John used the threat of the basement to keep Dean in some sort of line but it only lasted until Bobby moved in and gave them a place to hide.
"What are you two talking about?" Bobby's voice brings them out of their thoughts and they look up to see the two men standing over them, each with two plates of pie in their hands.
"Nothing, Sam's just being a girl," Dean says sitting up and reaching a hand towards Cas in a 'gimme' motion towards the pie.
"Shut up, jerk," Sam says, setting the bottle down, the label in pieces on the table and takes the pie from Bobby.
"Bitch," Dean shoots back with his mouth full.
"Hey Cas, did Dean tell you he knows how to sew?" Sam asks and his brother nearly chokes on his pie.
"No, he didn't," Cas replies, looking at Dean, both amused and impressed.
"The only reason I know how to sew is because this little shit had to be a Power Ranger for Halloween and I couldn't afford to buy him one. And by the way, it was the pink Power Ranger."
"It was not the pink Power Ranger Dean," Sam protested, "it was the green Power Ranger, he was the best."
"The white Power Ranger was the best," Dean shot back and Bobby rolled his eyes.
"I can't believe you are still arguing about a show you saw all of six episodes of, and barely that, the static was so bad, it was hard to see anything."
"Don't you know Bobby?" Dean responds with a smirk at his brother, "Sam went online and watched them all."
"Shut up, I did not," Sam said kicking Dean's chair, "and what do you mean the white Power Ranger is better, the Green one became the white one, you just liked Tommy."
"It's true," Dean said with a nod, "I had a thing for long hair in those days."
"Oh my God," Sam said, suddenly getting to his feet and heading into the house and was back a moment later with a couple of photographs in his hand. "We don't have any embarrassing baby pictures for you Cas, but we do have embarrassing teen pictures. That," he said handing Castiel the first picture, "is Dean with a mullet, he thought he was pretty hot with that thing. I didn't have the heart to tell him he looked like a hair band reject, though that might have been what he was going for. Was that it Dean?"
"I rocked that hairdo," Dean protested and took the picture from a grinning Cas and had to admit that he did look a bit like an asshat.
"And for all his bitching, here he is in the Red Ranger's suit," Sam said handing the picture over and Dean looked over his shoulder and grinned. For being fourteen at the time and looking like a douche bag, his sewing skills had turned out to be awesome as he and Sam stood wearing their costumes with big grins. He had found two helmets and he had painted them to match and they held them under their arms.
"My paint job wasn't as good as my sewing though," he commented, the lines were bad and there were paint lines running down the visors. Sam's helmet was sporting a red hand print where he'd grabbed it while painting his own and Sam had refused to let him paint over it.
"I don't know," Cas said casually with a smile at Dean, "it seems pretty impressive to me." Dean grinned back and turned back to Sam who was staring at the next picture, looking upset.
"Sam?" he asked and his younger brother lifted his eyes and Dean had to wonder why he looked like kicked puppy.
"I forgot about this one," he said quietly, "it's that school photo," he says cryptically, glancing at Cas who so far is ignorant about their former home life.
"Ah," Dean says and sees Bobby scowl out of the corner of his eye.
"A school photo has made you sad?" Cas asked, sounding confused and Dean sighs, it's better late than never, he thinks and reaches for the photo. He hasn't said anything to Cas about the abuse because it's not something he likes to talk about. The only evidence Cas ever saw was the bruises around his throat and was smart enough not to ask about them. Dean and Sam left their dad's house and were living with Bobby, at least for the next little while. Sam would be leaving in a little over a month and Dean had started looking for apartments for when he's gone, as much as he loved Bobby, he feels like he's mooching and he can't stand that.
"This Cas," he says, looking down at the picture of himself and can't help feel sorry for past him, "is my eighth grade school picture. You can imagine the photographers distress at seeing me sitting there in front of him, he tried to get me to come back another day." With that he hands over the picture and watches the other man's face closely. There's confusion at first and then shock and then anger and then confusion again as he looks back at Dean.
"What?" is all he can get out and Dean smiles sardonically at him and takes the photo back and looks at the bruised face. His left eyes is swollen shut and left cheek is bruised, he has a split lip and a cut above his right eye, all of the bruises are new, he had accumulated them the night before. His hair is cut in ragged lengths around his head where John had thought he would punish his son by chopping his hair off. Sadly, that was what had pissed Dean off the most, he was used to the physical abuse, but John had taken something from him that was his choice.
"Don't ever get into a fight with John Winchester, he's a former marine and fights dirty," Sam says, watching Dean closely.
"Your dad did this?" Cas asked incredulously.
"And a whole lot more," Dean replies and places the photo down but with his face against the table. "What was it this time Sammy?" he asks his brother.
"You attacked him because he broke my arm," Sam replied, his left hand touching his right, the broken one as if remembering the pain.
"That's right, he broke it for burning dinner as I recall, as if assigning dinner to an eleven year old was the most brilliant idea in the first place," Dean says with a nod.
"And as I remember it," Bobby says speaking up, "it wasn't the last time he broke your arm either."
"No, first of three," Sam confirmed and Cas is staring between them, a look that is a both horrified and angry on his face. They are silent for a long time before Bobby says he's heading in, the mosquitoes getting to him and Sam follows, leaving the other two men to themselves.
"So there's my biggest secret, though if you ask anyone around, it's not much of a secret. The night I met you was the last time I saw my dad and I plan to keep it that way," Dean says after a long silence.
"So those bruises," Cas hedges and Dean smiles at him.
"Weren't from a frisky boyfriend, no."
"I was wondering what kind of kinky stuff you were into," Cas says with a smile around the beer bottle he puts to his lips and Dean sighs in relief.
"Why, does that turn you on?" Dean shoots back and Cas grins.
"Maybe." They stare at each other for a long moment before they chuckle, things odd between them for a minute. They've been 'dating' for almost a month, Dean only sees the other man once or twice a week, he's busy at his new firm, but they text like crazy and talk at least once a day. In any other relationship Dean had been eager to get his partner into bed, but Cas was different and they were taking it slow.
"Would you two get in here before you get eaten alive?" Sam calls from the window and Dean and Cas stand, gathering the plates and bottles.
"It's okay if we do, I'm sure Cas would be willing to rub Calamine lotion on me," Dean replies and watches Sam roll his eyes before he turns away from the window.
They walk into the kitchen and place the plates in the sink and the bottles in the recycling and settle in for a movie with Sam and Bobby, Dean leaning into Cas' side. He's not stupid, he knows that Cas is burning with questions and eventually he'll ask, but he's glad he's not just yet.
Ok, so I admit, I did watch some Power Rangers, just some and I don't know why I chose them for the Halloween costume, but I did, and all I really remember, other than the terrible monsters, is that Tommy changed from the Green to the White at some point, don't ask me why I remember that, but I did check, just to make sure I had the right one.
Cas is going to question Dean eventually, probably next chapter, he is a lawyer after all and wants to see all wrongs righted, especially when it comes to someone he cares about. I will get another chapter up soon, at least sooner than over a year, promise.