The day his mom dies is the worst day of Dean's life.
They keep telling him his mom is with angels now, like he isn't old enough to understand what dead means. He's eleven, he's not stupid. He knows that the fire that took part of his home took his mom. He knows she's gone and she isn't ever coming back.
He knows nothing is ever going to be the same ever again.
Cas sits with him at the funeral. When Dean's eyes start to well up, Cas puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes. Dean leans into the contact, drinking up the small bit of relief that comes from having a friend during mourning.
But Cas can't help everything. He can't help that Dean's dad is never sober any more, the more often than not Dean has to be the one to take care of Sammy. That more than once John's taken a swing at Dean after he's had a half dozen too many.
That's the year Uncle Bobby moves in, to keep an eye on John, and to help with the boys. That's also the year John leaves, travelling with a new company to match his new job.
But Bobby's better around the house. Not like Dean's mom was, but better than his dad. He lets Cas come over whenever Dean needs him, and doesn't get mad when they play old Beatles records at three in the morning. Sammy seems happier, having more fun in school and clubs than he could before.
John sends postcards from the places he visits, and even mentions in some that he's been 'sobering up for his sons'. Dean's proud of him, proud to have a dad that's doing better, but part of him keeps waiting for something bad to happen.
When Dean's dad dies, Dean is certain it's his fault. One parent dying could be an accident, something sad. Two parents dying meant there was something bad going on. He knows it.
After John's funeral, Cas looks for him all over the house, but can't find him. Finally, after scouring the backyard, Cas finds Dean holed up in their tree house, eyes squeezed shut and curled into a ball. He climbs up the ladder and settles in quietly next to Dean, not speaking yet. Words still don't come easily to him, and he needs to think them out before he uses them.
"You are not to blame," Cas says firmly. Dean only shakes his head, keeping his eyes firmly closed as he curls his shoulders in. Cas touches his shoulder lightly, starting back a bit when Dean flinches away.
Instead of trying again, he settles back and lets Dean sit in silence for a time. Then he begins to hum quietly.
"No!" Dean shouts suddenly. Cas halts for a second, but starts up again quickly. "Not that song!" Dean yells again, his voice panicked and so close to tears.
"Why not, Dean? Two years ago it was all you could hum!" Cas shouts back, knowing Dean would rather fight than cry, and that if he didn't do oneright now he'd do the other.
"Because it's my fault they're dead!" Dean's voice cracks and he sinks back against the wall of the tree house. Cas freezes, not sure how to respond to this.
"You can't really believe that." When Dean remains silent, Cas is astonished. How could his best friend be carrying this weight around and Cas not know about it? "Dean, your mother- that was an accident. You weren't even home. And your dad, how could you have known? His heart, it just couldn't keep up with him. That's not your fault."
"I wasn't there for them! Either of them. Mom, she shouldn't have been home, she only stayed home in the mornings to get us to school. I could've done that for her, easy. I should've kept Dad here, where I could watch what he was eating and make sure he was taking his meds. Cas, I wasn't there for them and now they're dead!" Dean says, fully crying now but refusing to admit it. Cas can see the hot tears pouring down his face, but doesn't mention it. He lets Dean retain his pride.
"You don't need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, my friend," Cas says finally, putting a comforting arm around Dean. Any other day, Dean would shrug him off with a laugh and a shove, reminding him of "Personal space, man, remember that?". Today, he simply relaxes, and lets Cas hold him down to earth.
