Author's Note:
Hello! It's wonderful to see people reading my story! :)
I just want to make a point here that an angel child who is six is a lot more mature than a human child who is six, though they may look the same in physical age. A LOT more mature.
Please review! It makes bb!Castiel's day (and mine oh shhh Chloe shhh) :3
A long while passes before Castiel and Balthazar speak again. Winter blooms into spring and then spring folds into summer. Balthazar has tried to stay away from Castiel, as since the snow incident, the younger angel has been keeping his distance as well, indicating that he really didn't want to talk to him. But that hasn't stopped Balthazar from watching out for him. Whenever Castiel is mocked or insulted, Balthazar is always there in the shadows, waiting to bite at whomever so happened to be the insulter. Of course, he makes sure Castiel isn't around to see it.
The day is thick with heat, and even in the morning, the children are sweating as they tear themselves from their bed sheets. Castiel sits up and yawns, stretching his arms up in the air and opening his wings along with them. The primary flight feathers at the tips tremble as he reaches the climax of his stretch, and then he falls back against the pillow with a huff and stares at the ceiling. A long-winded groan surpasses his lips, and he rolls over with a dramatic display of effort, pulling with him his pillow and burying his face into the mattress beneath it.
Today is his first flying lesson. And to be honest he really isn't looking forward to it all that much. It's absolutely compulsory, so there's no way of getting out of it. This is the day he has been dreading ever since…well, ever since forever, really. It means that he has to open out his wings. It means he has to finally let his brothers and sisters see again what he has kept hidden for so long. His wings are an embarrassment. They are wretched and pygmy and just plain awful. He hates them. All of the other children's wingspans are magnificent. Their wings are beautiful, with feathers of abundant colours which compliment each other perfectly. Sighing deeply, he sits up, and realises that he's the last left in the room. All the others had hurried down to breakfast. He winces as he feebly stretches out his left wing again, and lets out a grumble. They're so….so…dull. Matt black with nothing particularly interesting about them whatsoever and they're just so small. It's humiliating. He brings his wing around to his front and strokes the feathers lightly. Angel wings are extremely sensitive, and his touch makes his under wing coverts quiver up contentedly.
Deciding it's best that he pull on his robe and arrive at breakfast before Gabriel comes looking for him, he drops from his bed and slumps across the wooden floor, grabbing said robe and shrugging himself into it. After sliding into his slippers, he trudges downstairs, fists balled up in the pockets of his robe and a moody expression slapped across his face. Upon opening the door to the dining room, the noisy ruckus of his siblings hits him as he opens the door. Those his age are piled onto their table, excitement clear on their faces. Leo – the pretentious idiot whom Castiel despises most – is spreading out his wings and showing them off. Castiel hates him not only because he is just one of the many bullies at Wayward House, but he also has stunning wings. Castiel's hates him because he hates to admit to himself that he's jealous.
Castiel grabs a bowl from the pile and ladles himself some porridge; the fact that today's the day that the porridge has decided to go cold very quickly and therefore gone stodgy makes him want to throw the spoon he is now holding at Leo's head.
Heck, he wants to throw a spoon at Leo's head when the porridge isn't stodgy and cold.
Sighing for probably the hundredth time that morning, Castiel takes up his usual seat at the far table which the others leave for him to sit at. He doesn't mind this though. It gives him the peace and quiet he's happiest with. Well, the most peace and quiet you can get in a room crowded to the brim with loud children all ostentatiously flashing their stupid wings everywhere
Yes. Castiel is jealous.
And he so isn't ready to just spread out his petty wings next to their huge ones.
A piece of toast lands on the table in front of him as he lifts another spoonful of disgusting porridge to his lips. It skids across the table and flies onto the floor on the other side. Castiel's knuckles go white under his skin as his fist clenches around the spoon tightly. His jaw locks and his teeth grind together. This is so not what he needs this morning. The flying lesson and the awful porridge is enough, but toast being thrown at him?
"Hey Castiel? Ready to flap your pretty little wings today?" comes a snide voice from a few tables away. Castiel turns his head slightly to see Leo – of course it's Leo – waving arrogantly and spreading his own wings out widely. Castiel looks back at his porridge.
Don't play into his hands, Castiel he thinks to himself. It's just what he wants.
"Think you'll be able to even get off of the ground?" Silence. "I don't," follows so softly that Castiel barely hears it. But he hears it none the less. His chair flies backwards as he stands, fists balled at his sides.
"Morning!" The door has opened just as Castiel has stood, and Gabriel has strolled in. He stops short, and notices the quiet in the room. All eyes are either on Gabriel, Leo or Castiel. Gabriel's are fixed on Castiel.
"Any reason you're up and about when your porridge is still half-eaten?" he asks. Castiel could tell him he's being bullied. But of course he won't. He never has.
"Yes, I'm just…getting a new spoon. I dropped mine."
Leo smirks, and turns back to his friends. Gabriel raises an eyebrow, and then grabs a spoon and walks over, giving it to Castiel. With a quick pat on the shoulder, Gabriel spins on his heel and begins walking around, checking up on the others. Castiel tries not to look anyone in the eye as he sits back down again, but his gaze accidentally locks with Balthazar's, who is sitting only a few tables away.
Alone.
Just like him.
It is Balthazar's expression which makes Castiel pause. It's so full of…of caring; an emotion that Castiel very rarely has the pleasure to witness. He stares back, not really realising he's doing so, until Balthazar lowers his head back to his bowl – the sudden movement brings Castiel out of his stupor, and slither back into his seat. He hasn't spoken to Balthazar for months. Balthazar is the one person who has ever stood up for him, and he completely disregarded it. Castiel tears his eyes away and drops into his seat. He's not so hungry anymore.
From his spot next to the huge dormitory window, Balthazar watches the children below line up on the lawn, one beside the other. Well, almost. There is one who is a few feet away from the others, at the far end of the line.
Castiel.
Sighing, not only at Castiel, but on Castiel's behalf, he leans closer to the window, pressing his cheek against the cool surface. He has a bad, bad feeling about this.
Castiel has seen Sophia many times before. She is the Wayward House flying instructor, and has always been, since Castiel can remember. Her jet black hair is striking – rich and shimmering in the sunlight. She is standing opposite them – hands held together neatly in front of her, sweeping almost-glowing green eyes across each of their faces. Having had watched her treatment of her students before, Castiel knows how strict Sophia can be. She controls her classes with a vigorous and ruthless streak. When her eyes reach his, he instantly looks to his feet.
"Welcome to your first flying lesson," she begins, releasing her hands from their grasp and beginning to pace up and down the line. "Before we begin I would like to state that once this course is over, and indeed, during this course if you so happen to be one of the few who pick the art of flying up quickly, that flying on these grounds is strictly forbidden. We are teaching you how to fly for use during and after you complete your training in the future; not for reckless and completely unnecessary reasons whilst you live under this roof. Obviously you are allowed to fly during class but other than that if you are caught doing so you WILL be punished accordingly. Do I make myself clear?" The line of students murmurs its response. Sophia inhales deeply. "I said, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sophia!" comes the louder response. Sophia smiles finally, and nods.
"Good. Now then. I need to make sure that all of your wings are fit for flying today. No one has any pains or aches which they need to make me aware of?" Everyone shakes their heads. "Perfect! Okay. Now let me see those wings of yours. Spread yourselves out further and then open them out for me."
Castiel bites his lip so hard that he gasps a little in pain. He can't. No. He thought he'd be able to do this but he can't. He can't open his wings here. Not now. Not ever. No. No no no.
"Castiel!" His head snaps up. Sophia is towering over him with her hands firmly on her hips. "You're up first! I've been calling your name for the past minute and a half and you haven't responded. Now get your wings out and let me look at you."
…Oh.
All eyes are on him. All the taunting, cruel, laughing eyes. He knows exactly what they're all thinking.
I can't wait to see him embarrass himself with those puny wings of his.
He gulps so audibly that the click of his throat is heard half-way down the line, and the sniggers resonate in his eardrums. Sophia lets out a groan of impatience, and pulls him out of the line to the front of the class. He is screaming inside. His eyes are round and as wide as they can go. This isn't fair. Why is she doing this? Doesn't he been through enough torment? Will it ever end?
"Castiel, open your wings please." The sickly sweet drawl of her voice makes him shiver. But he remains silent. She growls under her breath. She's clearly had enough of trying to be nice about it all.
"Castiel, I demand you to open your damn wings!"
"No." A unanimous gasp from his cohorts ruptures the silence. Sophia stands up straight and her enraged eyes pierce him like knives.
"What…did you just say? Did you just disobey an order?"
He bites his lip again. He's in BIG trouble. She breathes deeply.
"Castiel, if you do not open your wings now, I will march you inside and there will be severe punishment coming your way, do you understand me?"
"FINE!" he yells, and his wings unfurl from behind him, opening out to their full extent. His head hangs in shame as the laughter from his siblings makes his stomach quench.
"Silence!" Sophia hisses at them, and they fall quiet once more. Though Castiel can hear their whispers.
"Look! They're still just as small as they've always been! Oh that's hilarious!"
He hates everything.
Sophia leans forward and inspects them with a frown.
"Well, you're not exactly going to get very far with those. But we'll make do." Castiel's hands curl into fists at his sides. Tears line his eyelashes. Don't cry. Not here. Not now. Not ever. Do. Not. Cry. "Go back to the line, Castiel. And don't you ever disobey me again. Next!"
As Castiel walks back to the line, the whispers hush and they all just...stare. He doesn't have to look at them to know that. The buzz of laughter hums down the line and his cheeks burn red at the sound.
What did he do to deserve this?
That is the question he has been asking himself ever since he can remember. Soon, all the wings have been checked and they're all in a line again, facing Sophia who is smiling proudly.
"I must say your wings are in wonderful condition, though some are...sub-standard, to say the least." Her glance flickers to Castiel, and his cheeks burn even more. "Anyway, to get on with this lesson, I'd like Leo to come forward to help demonstrate."
Smugly, Leo strides forwards, his wings open wide and fluttering in the gentle breeze. Sophia explains the strategy of flying to them all and Leo tries it out. His wings flap hard and fast, and he rises a few inches off of the ground before dropping gracefully back onto it.
"Your wing muscles need to be trained, and that comes with practice," Sophia clarifies, running her hand across the top of Leo's wing, and then pulling it gently open. She begins to explain how to use each part of the wing, and Castiel listens intently. If he can grasp how to fly first, even with his small wings, maybe he can impress them all for the first time in his life. "Once you grasp how to use your wings," Sophia continues, "you will be able to transport yourself from place to place in the blink of an eye. Once you grasp how to use your wings, you can be in any place, at any time. It's extremely useful during and after your training. I will show you." Sophia retreats further from the group, and stretches her neck by leaning it side to side. Then, with a smirk, her wings open out and the intake of breath from her students makes her smirk grow wider.
Castiel is in awe.
Her wingspan is enormous. The tips brush the leaves on the trees either side of her, and the black feathers glint with blues and greens from the sun overhead. They're absolutely beautiful. A look of concentration crosses her face, and her wings swoop downwards. She disappears.
"See? Simple." They all jump as her voice comes from behind them. She is standing with her hands on her hips and her wings folded once more. "You just need to get the hang of using your wings. Now then, everyone find a space and open your wings out. Really try to get some lift!"
Being a lover of having lots of space, Castiel jogs off to his own spot and tries not to focus on the fact that people keep glancing at him, waiting for him to get his wings out again. Which of course he has to, and he does, slowly but surely. He ruffles them, stretching them out as far as they will physically go, and concentrates. He wants to get to the tree beside Sophia. What if he can do it on his first ever try? What if he's amazing at flying even with his tiny wings? What if he –
He lands flat on his face.
His wings give out practically the second his feet leave the ground. Spitting out the mouthful of grass he has accumulated, he glares at two of his siblings who are giggling at him nearby. He then glares at the others who have managed to hover above the grass. Why can't he just do it? Picking himself up again, he swoops his wings down as hard as he can and almost squeaks when he manages to stay off of the ground for a second.
"Good, Castiel!" Sophia claps and the praise makes his heart swell. He's doing something right. In his moment of glee he forgets he's flying and drops back to the ground again, but onto his feet this time. For the first time in what could be forever, he actually feels proud of his wings. After having constant and unshakeable fears that his wings would never work, to have them WORK is just…just…
Castiel grins. A big, wide, happy grin.
"You may have managed to stay up in the air for a second, Castiel, but it doesn't mean you're gonna get anywhere with those stunted things."
The smile disappears as quickly as it arrives. He spins round and sees Leo about five feet in the air, his wings pounding pockets of air upon his saddened brother. Castiel feels rage boiling up inside of him. For once he had been happy with himself. And Leo had just come and ripped that feeling away. His fists clench so tightly that the knuckle bones are white under his skin.
"If you…if you insult me…ONE more time…" he growls gutturally, glowering upwards and putting all of his anger into his expression. Leo just laughs aloud.
"I'd like to see what you'd do when I'm up here and you can barely get one foot from the floor."
It's one thing to have been kicked whilst he was down. His whole life has been that. But to be kicked when he finally experiences what happiness – pure happiness – feels like…to have that…to have it taken…It hurts. More than anything that's ever been thrown at him. He can't take it anymore. He can't be abused like this. He won't let himself be abused like this. Not anymore. He's never felt so angry. A searing heat shoots through his back and into his wings, spreading like wild fire to the very tips. It stings and pains him, but he doesn't care. Suddenly the heat spreads through his entire body, and envelops his face. His vision his going whiter and whiter until he can no longer see. Everything is on fire. Everything is throbbing. He can't control it. He doesn't know what's happening. He wants to scream but something is closing off his voice. He can't – he can't – he can't –
BOOM.
It happens so fast he hardly notices it. The sound that erupts from his back equates to that of a thunder clap. He lets out a cry as he is surrounded by thick black feathers to his right and to his left. What are they? Why is someone covering him with their wings? What just happened? He turns his head and realises that there's no one behind him. And the black feathers are coming from his back.
…
…They're his wings.
And they're bigger than any of the angels his age. Much, much bigger.
The class has gone silent. They're all watching him. He doesn't care. He flaps his wings and lifts from the floor. It's as easy as blinking. He can't believe it. He rises up to Leo's level, who is staring with humongous wide eyes. He looks terrified. Castiel grins, his fists still curled.
"What was that about me not being able to stay up here for very long?" he snarls. "Because you must have been talking about yourself!" And with that he flies forwards and collides with the stunned Leo, digging his nails into the six year olds flesh and pushing him hard. Leo topples downwards, unable to keep his wings working, and crashes onto the ground. His wing lays at an awfully crooked angle. Shouts begin amongst his siblings and Sophia appears at Leo's side. Leo wimpers into her arms, moaning about his wing and how much it hurts. Her eyes lock onto Castiel's.
"You. BOY! Get down here this INSTANT!"
He hadn't meant to make Leo fall. He'd just been so mad. He never wanted to hurt him. Tears bubble up in his eyes. He doesn't know what to do. His chest aches. His lip quivers. What has he done? But he can't go down there. He's in so much trouble. His throat burns with the onslaught of tears and he clutches at it. He may know how to get up in the air but he doesn't know how to fly away like Sophia did. Just…disappear. If only he could disappear for good.
There's a flap of feathers beside him and he doesn't even look to see who it is. He presumes it's Gabriel – Sophia probably had one of the angel children run inside to get him – to take him to the ground and march him inside.
What he doesn't anticipate is blinking and seeing his dormitory before his eyes. His bed, his teddy, his things. The person hurries him to his bed and he crawls onto it willingly, pulling his teddy into his arms and burying his face into it. The person collects him into their own arms and Castiel's teddy isn't enough anymore. He turns his face and buries it into the chest of whoever so happened to have saved him from Sophia's wrath – at least for now. The chest is small and bony. It's not Gabriel. Castiel shivers as he cries. He knows who it is.
Balthazar clutches him tighter, placing a kiss on the top of his head. They'd be found soon enough, but for now, Castiel just needed someone to hold him close. Even if he runs away again when this is all over…Balthazar doesn't care. Castiel needs this. And Balthazar will always be what Castiel needs - whether it's someone to stand up to the bullies, whether it's a shoulder to cry on; Balthazar will make sure that he's there to…well. Balthazar will always just make sure he's there.
