A/N: Hey everybody! I'm going to go ahead and posted both chapters 1 and 2 since they're all ready. From this point on Pancake and I will be switching off every other chapter with writing. Pancake is half way through chapter 3 and we hope to get it up soon. Enjoy and review!

August 1987 Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Roadhouse Nursery and Daycare

It was a number of years before Dean saw Cas again. Three year precisely since he'd seen him and two years since the death of his mom in a late night house fire started by a faulty night light in Sam's nursery. After her death Dean's father John has hauled him and his brother Sam to Sioux Falls, South Dakota to be closer to family friends to help raise the boys.

He was sitting in time out in the corner of his daycare classroom. The teacher has practically dragged him there, almost ripped his arm off, after he had punched and bitten one of the other boys. It wasn't entirely his fault though. Well, okay, it was, but Gordon deserved it. He took Dean's baby and nearly flushed it down the toilet in the class bathroom. And nobody did that to his Impala and got away with it.

So there Dean was, stuck sitting on a lumpy three-legged stool facing the corner. He idly stared at the wall and figured he'd probably go crazy till he heard the gently flap of wings. He turned and saw Cas in his yellow raincoat sans hat.

Dean's teacher, Ms. Harvelle had half a mind to reprimand Dean when she saw him talking to himself but she figured it was better than him lashing out at the other kids. Though she did make a note to call Mr. Winchester and discuss his son's erratic behavior over the past couple of months.

"Castle?" Dean looked around to see if anybody else in the classroom noticed the arrival of the raincoat clad child, but nobody paid any mind to the lonely child in the corner.

"Castiel," the dark haired boy in a monotone that seems odd coming from the mouth of someone so young. "Hello Dean Winchester." Cas looked Dean up and down and then surveyed the room around him. "Why are you in the corner by yourself? Are you some kind of outcast? A leper perhaps?"

"What?! No! I'm no leopard!" half shouted. He winced at the loudness of his voice and looked around and saw Ms. Harvelle giving him a stern look and he turned his attention back to his corner. He hissed, "I'm no outcast. I'm in trouble s'all…."

"Oh," Cas turned to the young Winchester, "my apologies."

"What are you doing here anyways kid?" Dean questioned.

"I don't know. Seemed like a good place to be, lots of toys. So why are you in trouble anyways?"

"That dummy Gordon tried to flush my Impala down the toilet and no one hurts my baby!"

Cas gave a slight tilt of his head, "Impala? You have a bay named after a type of car?" Cas narrowed his eyes and Dean was reminded of the hazy memory of his mother's perplexed glares. "Aren't you too young to have children?"

"Wha-?" Dean sputtered. "What are you kid? I'm starting to think you're some kind of weirdo outcast."

At this comment Cas frowned as if seriously considering if he was in fact a weirdo. After a couple of seconds he straightened himself and shrugged. "I don't know what I am…..I just am."

Mrs. Harvelle made her way over to Dean. "Alright Dean. Your times up, you're free to go but no more hitting." Dean was thrilled at his release from time out. He looked over at Cas to ask him if he wanted to play but he was gone. In his place lay a lone black feather.

—Do-wee-ooo-ooo-wee-oo—-Time Jump—-Do-wee-ooo-ooo-wee-oo—-

A couple more months passed before Dean encountered Cas again. Dean was in the middle of a short writing assignment his teacher Ms. Harvelle had given the class for the weekend when he heard the gentle flutter of wings. Dean gave a furtive glance away from his assignment. "Hey kid," he said he before looking back down at his paper.

"Hello Dean. What are you doing?"

"Homework."

"What's homework?" Cas questioned.

"How do you not know what homework is kid? Don't you go to school?"

"Well I don't have this 'homework' where I'm from," Cas retorted with a flourish of air quotations.

Dean gave Cas a look like he'd sprung a second head. ""You're a strange guy, you know that right?"

"Dean? Who are you talking to in there?" a voice called from the kitchen. Bobby Singer walked into the living room where Dean was seated on the floor, with his stumpy legs splayed under the coffee table. Two year old Sam toddle along after him.

Dean was going to answer but seeing as Cas had disappeared he thought better of it. "Uh. No one Uncle Bobby."

"Well wash up for dinner. It's almost ready."

"Yes sir," Dean replied. "Um…Bobby. Do you know when my Dad will be back?"

"Hard to say son. Maybe a day or two. Can't say for sure." Bobby wasn't sure how to tell Dean that his father hadn't called since he'd left to find a job in Tulsa. He knew that if the job fell through John would likely take his sweet time returning. He hadn't been able to face the boys for more than a month's time since Mary's death. With the puppy eyes Dean was giving him Bobby didn't have to heart to say the truth. "I'm sure he'll call," Bobby finally mustered. "Now help your brother wash up." With that he walked back into the kitchen.

"Dean!" Sammy shouted gleefully. "Where's friend?"

"What friend?" Dean asked, holding out his arms to his little brother

"Friend," Sam squeaked, waddling into Dean's arms. "Hearimd you talk."

"Oh, Dean picked Sam up, blowing a few stray hairs out his face making him giggle. "I was just talking to myself. Because I'm silly like that."

Sam looked at his brother with big hazel eyes like he didn't believe him. "What?" Dean finally asked after about half a minute of staring.

"It ok," Sam said, patting Dean's face with a pudgy little hand. "I has 'magin friends too."

"What Sammy? What are you babbling about? I don't have any imaginary friends." They entered the downstairs bathroom of Bobby's house and Dean sat Sammy up on the sink. He took the little boy's hands, smiling at the squeals of glee he let out, and began to wipe his hands with a wet cloth.

"So who's your 'maginary friend?"

"I already told you Sammy. There's no imaginary friend. Imaginary friends are for babies."

With that comment Sammy began to holler and cry. "No they're not!" he wailed.

The younger Winchester continued to fuss until Dean finally said, "Okay no they're not."

Sammy stopped fussing and began to rub at his eyes. "So what's your friend like?" he asked, jumping right back into the conversation.

Dean gave a defeated sigh and set the washcloth down on the sink. "Well….he's kind of short. He has really dark, messy hair and he has a bright yellow raincoat with red boots kind of like Paddington bear. And he's really weird….kind of like you!" Dean said and began to tickle Sammy's sides. Sam let out a ridiculously loud squeal and laughed until Bobby came in to see what the hell was going on. He just shook his head and sent the boys out to the dining room where his wife was setting up their dinner.