Chapter three! First of all, thank you to the couple of people who reviewed. You have no idea how much it means to me:) And thanks to all the people who had favorited and followed this!
Chapter warnings: non-explicit sexual assault, allusions to sexual assault, slash, physical abuse, and language.
Dean jiggled his knee and looked over at the bright green letters of the stove clock. Sam should have been home at least a half an hour ago, and he hadn't called to say he was going to be late. Dean tapped his fingers on the table for a few moments, watching the clock change as another minute passed.
He sat up straighter when a key turned in the door opened, but sagged back in the chair when he saw it was only Castiel. Cas locked the door behind him and shed his coat, hanging it up next to Dean's on the rack in the front hall.
"What's up, Cas?" Dean grunted in greeting, checking his phone again. No messages.
Cas padded into the kitchen and took a seat across from Dean. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and glanced around the apartment. "Where's Sam?"
"He hasn't come home yet," Dean replied, keeping his expression nonchalant and calm, trying to hide the fact that he was in freaking out, overprotective big brother mode from Cas as well as he could.
Cas knew him better than that. He gave Dean a reassuring half-smile despite the slight concern for Sam that sparked in his chest when he found out Sam wasn't home yet. "He must have stayed late at practice."
"I know," Dean snapped, more harshly than he meant to, immediately regretting it. He glanced up at Cas, who raised an eyebrow at him and leaned back in his chair, not commenting on Dean's sharp tone. Dean sighed and scrubbed his mouth with his hand. "He's supposed to call if he's running late."
Cas opened his mouth to reply, but paused when the apartment door flew open and Sam tumbled inside, clutching the strap of his backpack in his hands tightly. He pushed the door shut behind him and shuffled into the kitchen, keeping his head ducked so he was looking at the floor so his still-dripping hair fell around his face.
"What's going on, Sam?" Dean asked, leaning forward to get a better look at his brother. Sam refused to make eye contact and clutched the strap of his bag so tightly his knuckles turned white. Suspicion and concern immediately seated themselves in the back of Dean's mind when Sam wouldn't meet his eyes. "You're late. What happened?"
"I just had to finish some stuff up after practice," Sam replied quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat. "I, uh…Coach Prose needed help getting the shed organized and I figured I had time…I didn't realize how late it was."
"Yeah," Dean exchanged a suspicious look with Cas before turning his attention back to Sam. "Just call next time, okay?"
Sam shuddered almost imperceptibly and nodded, taking a skittish step back towards the living room. Dean's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sam was acting really weird, and it was making Dean worried. "Okay, Dean. I'm going to…I've got a lot of homework. I'll be in our room."
"You're not coming to get dinner with us?" Cas asked, tilting his head to the side and regarding Sam curiously. Dean had been moaning about John having his poker buddies over all week, and finally Sam had suggested they all just go out and find something to do for a couple of hours so they didn't have to be there. Cas had been looking forward to it. He and Sam couldn't 'go out' to restaurants and things like that, for fear of people passing the word down to Cas's family. Going to dinner at a barbeque place with Dean was the closest thing they could do to going on a date.
"I can't," Sam frowned and hovered in the bedroom doorway, his dark eyes flickering up to meet Cas's for only a few seconds before dropping to the floor again. He shook his head and rubbed the back of his flushed neck. "I got so much homework today, Cas, I'm sorry…"
"It's okay," Cas assured him, concerned that Sam wouldn't look at him. Sam shifted nervously under Castiel's penetrating gaze, positive Cas could see right through his fragile façade. Sam could feel bruises in the shape of fingers forming on his biceps and hips. The splitting pain in his lower back had reduced to a dull throb, but he was reluctant to try to sit down again. "We can stay in tonight, then."
"No, you guys go," Sam said quickly, his stomach dropping. If he spent the whole evening with Dean and Cas he was sure they would figure out what happened. He needed some time to get himself together; he couldn't pretend to be okay yet. "I really need to focus for a few hours, so it'd be better if you weren't here."
Cas blinked, surprised by Sam's curt words, but nodded shortly. Sam closed the bedroom door behind him, not looking back at Cas and Dean. Dean turned to Cas, his eyebrows drawn together. "What the hell is wrong with him?"
Cas stared at the closed door, tugging at his bottom lip absentmindedly. His troubled gaze never moved from the bedroom door as he responded slowly, "I don't know."
Sam dropped his bag next to the door and collapsed onto Dean's mattress, wincing when his sore body hit the soft pillows. He curled up into a ball, carful to rest his weight on his hip, and buried his face in his pillow.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Cas was supposed to be his first. He hadn't wanted anyone else to touch him like that. He and Cas had never gone that far, not even close. Cas was slowly becoming more accustomed to being held and touched, but he wasn't even comfortable enough to let Sam see him without a shirt, let alone anything like that. Sam had had suspicions that somewhere along the line, someone in Cas's hellhole of a house had gotten a little handsy with him, but he'd never known how to bring it up.
Sam never wanted anyone to ever even look at him again because he felt so disgustingly ashamed. He didn't deserve Cas's love, not when he was so dirty. They had agreed to wait until they were both sure they were ready, most likely only once they moved away from their families. Sam hadn't wanted his first time in the back of a car, or a rushed meeting while his dad and Dean were out.
He choked on a sob; he'd been so sure it would be Cas, in their own bed, in their own place someday. Instead, it was his middle-aged soccer coach against a sticky bench in the high school locker room.
He clutched the pillow tightly as memories from the locker room flashed through his mind, unbidden; the hands on his body, moving lower and lower, his stomach being shoved into the side of one of the polished benches repeatedly until he was sure he was going to throw up, the blinding pain shooting through his battered body…
He hadn't known it would hurt like that. He wasn't naïve, he knew it would be a little painful, but that had hurt like hell. He wanted to scream and cry and throw up, but he couldn't make his body move the way he wanted it to, he couldn't get his voice to work.
Sam's body heaved as he sobbed silently into Dean's pillow, his face pressed into the damp, soap scented fabric.
"If you tell anyone, I swear to God, Sammy, I will make sure everyone in town sees that picture," Prose hissed into his ear, his warm breath searing against the skin of Sam's temple. Sam gripped the edges of the bench more tightly, not caring when he felt his knuckles popping, welcoming the feeling of pain he could control. Prose's fingers dug roughly into Sam's hips. "Do you understand me? I'd hate to see your boyfriend's face get messed up when his brothers found out. He is a pretty little thing, it'd be a shame…"
Sam gritted his teeth and pressed his forehead to the cool wood of the bench.
One of Prose's hands slid into Sam's hair and yanked his head back roughly so Sam was forced to meet his cold, lust-filled eyes. Sam dropped his gaze, unable to muster up any feelings of defiance. He was too ashamed, in too much pain, felt too disgusted by the waves of pleasure mixing with the pain in his body. He whimpered softly and silently willed the tears coursing down his cheeks to stop. Prose's lips curled into a spiteful smile and he growled lowly against Sam's throat, "I said, do you understand me?"
"Yes," Sam managed to choke out, trying to move away from Prose's lips on his neck. He didn't want Prose's greedy mouth touching him in lust anywhere near where Cas's soft, chapped lips had kissed him in love. "I won't tell, I promise, I won't…"
"Not that John would believe you anyway," Prose snorted. "What would you tell him? Bobby's best friend touched you in a bad place? He already thinks you're an attention whore, Sam. He thinks Castiel is a phase. He's always been worried you'd fall for a guy, ever since you turned thirteen and still didn't have an interest in any girls in your class. Why do you think he signed you up for soccer? So you would man up."
Sam squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around the bench, shaking his head. "I…he…"
"Sorry, Sammy," Prose suddenly let go of Sam's hips. The sharp, staggering pain dulled slightly. Sam couldn't adjust to the loss of support and collapsed to the dirty locker room floor, a cry of pin escaping his lips when he hit the ground. Prose readjusted his slacks and knelt down next to Sam, reaching out to rub his hair tenderly. Sam tried to pull himself away from the touch, but his arms were shaking too hard. Prose smiled encouragingly at him; it made Sam sick. "You did good, babe. Castiel is one lucky guy." He pressed his lips to Sam's again. Sam's lips remained motionless and non-pliant under his own. "I need help organizing the sports shed next Wednesday. You'll stay to help me."
Sam nodded stiffly, keeping his gaze locked firmly on the empty chip bag that had missed the trashcan when someone had thrown it. His stomach twisted at the thought of having to do this again.
"Maybe we should have stayed," Cas muttered, poking at the charred chicken on his plate absentmindedly. He and Dean had hovered around the apartment uncertainly, not wanting to interrupt Sam and piss him off even more, but not wanting to leave him alone when he was obviously in a bad mood. They had only left when John had come home, four other men following him, toting a medley of alcohol with them.
"Sam just needs some time," Dean grunted, biting into his burger. He wasn't really enjoying it, too distracted by worry for his baby brother. "He has his moods."
"I don't believe this is merely a mood, Dean," Cas replied shortly, dropping his fork onto his plate and pursing his lips. "He seemed upset. We shouldn't have left."
"I don't want you hanging around my Dad and his friends," Dean snapped. "Neither does Sam."
Cas blinked at him, taken aback. That hadn't been anything like what he'd expected Dean to say. "Why not?"
Dean sighed a rubbed his face with his hands. He'd just wanted a goddamned hamburger, not a heart to heart with Cas about what a jerk John Winchester could be. Was that too much to ask? "You know my dad doesn't like you, Cas. When he starts drinking during these poker games…he can be harsh. It gets Sam worked up when he starts in about you, and I don't like hearing them fight, okay? Just eat you chicken and shut up. Sam is fine."
Anger ignited in Cas's chest at Dean's condescending tone. His grip on his fork tightened painfully and he fixed Dean with a dark glare. "Don't talk about me like I need to be defended, Dean. I can take care of myself. Sam knows that."
"I know," Dean put up his hands in a 'don't shoot' gesture and met Cas's gaze steadily with his bright green eyes. Cas's hard glare softened a little bit when he saw the honesty in Dean's expression. "But you're his boyfriend, Cas. He's not going to let John bitch about you. He's got to defend your honor, or whatever."
"Defend my honor?" Cas raised his eyebrows and smiled a little, amused.
Dean shrugged and the corner of his lips quirked into a reluctant half smile. "Sam's into that romantic crap."
"I know," Cas agreed softly, looking down at his hands flopped in his lap. He and Sam had a pretty well balanced give and take relationship. Neither of them was interested in grand gestures of affection. Cas knew that from the outside, their relationship didn't look like anything spectacular.
Cas couldn't help feeling like it was, though. Sam stood up for him. Sam told him he was beautiful, something he had a hard time believing. Sam had seen some of the ugly scars that twisted all over his body, and he had just pulled Cas close and run his fingers over the raised white lines, pressing his lips to Cas's temple. He made Cas want to smile more, he made Cas want to be a better person than the damaged, broken kid he was now. They had to hide in constant fear of being found out, they couldn't go on dates, and Cas's family could never know; it wasn't what Cas had pictured when he'd dreamed of falling in love, but he wouldn't ever give it up, for anything.
Cas twisted his napkin in his thin fingers, recalling Sam's words the first time they'd kissed. Cas had hesitated before their lips met and Sam had smiled a little bit, showing off the dimples in his cheeks, his soft chocolate locks falling into his dark eyes.
"It's okay, Cas. I trust you."
"We should go make sure he's okay," Cas cleared his throat and pushed his plate away. "I don't feel—"
"Dean Winchester?"
Cas's statement was cut off when a strong male voice boomed across the small restaurant. Dean looked up from his plate curiously, still chewing a large bite of hamburger. Cas's lip twitched when he noted the amount of food crammed in Dean's mouth. Dean saw Cas's lip curl in disgust and grinned widely as Cas, giving him a good view of the half chewed food.
"I thought it was you," Andrew Prose came to a stop at the end of their table and beamed at the two younger men. Cas smiled politely at him. "How are you?"
"Fine," Dean replied, swallowing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "How are you?"
"Good," Prose's gaze shifted to Cas and his smiled widened until it was almost a leer. Cas shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and licked his bottom lip nervously, unsure of where he should look and what he should say. "Really good, actually."
Cas's eyes flickered over to Dean, conveying his discomfort as Prose loomed over him. Dean cleared his throat and spoke up loudly, trying to draw his attention away from Cas. "So how'd Sammy do in practice today?"
"Kid's a natural," Prose replied, sparing Dean a glance for a moment. He dug his hands in his pockets and smiled, toning it down so he didn't look quite so psychotic. Cas picked up his glass to take a sip of water, desperate for something to do so he didn't have to look at Prose. "He's doing great. Offered to help me out with organizing the storage shed next week, too. Great kid."
Dean nodded in agreement, eyeing Prose suspiciously. Bobby talked about Prose like he walked on water, and Dean held a lot of stock in Bobby's judgment. Just because he didn't like the guy didn't mean there was something wrong with Prose. Dean was just paranoid.
"So I didn't realize you two were together now," Prose feigned ignorance and looked back and forth between Dean and Cas innocently. "Can't say I'm surprised, you two have always been close."
Cas almost spit out a mouthful of water all over the table. He managed to stop himself at the last second, but he choked and some spilled from his mouth, ran down his chin, and dripped onto the tabletop. Dean rolled his eyes and handed Cas a napkin. "We're not together."
"He is a little old for you, Castiel," Prose commented lightly, his grin unwavering. Cas coughed and focused on mopping up the water, not sure of how to reply. He didn't understand what exactly was going on, he just knew that he wasn't enjoying this conversation. Prose (finally) took a step away from the table. "It was nice seeing you both. Tell Sam I said hello."
Dean grunted noncommittally as Prose turned and walked towards the bar. Dean turned back to Cas, who had finished cleaning up the water and was already pulling on his battered trench coat. Dean jerked his head towards the front door. "Let's get out of here."
"Where the hell were you?" Dad slurred, watching Dean and Cas cross through the kitchen. Dean ignored him, his nose wrinkling when he caught a whiff of the strong scent of alcohol wafting from his father and his father's disgusting friends. Sometimes the best thing to do when Dad had been drinking was ignore him until he sobered up or just passed out.
Dean froze and turned on his heel when he heard Cas yelp quietly in surprise. Dad had grabbed Cas's jacket and yanked him back towards the table, so his face was inches from Cas's. Dad's rough features were arranged to be almost completely stoic and blank, but Dean could tell he was seething underneath the unreadable expression. Cas tried to untangle the man's fingers from his coat as politely as he could, his heart racing.
Dad's upper lip curled and he growled warningly, "I don't want you alone with Sammy in his room."
"I'm going in there, too, Dad," Dean sighed, too tired to deal with his dad's drunken paranoia. He gripped Cas's elbow and tugged him towards the living room. Dad let go of Cas's coat reluctantly, watching them as they escaped to Sam and Dean's shared bedroom. "Don't worry about it."
"Fucking freak…" Dad muttered, turning back to the table in his chair and fixing his gaze back on his cards, losing interest when Cas had no visible reaction to the familiar insult.
Dean was torn between calling his dad out for insulting Cas and just getting the fuck out of there before any of Dad's drinking buddies got a little too curious and rowdy. The last thing they needed was for them to find out about Cas's sexuality and antagonize him about it; the kid had a hard enough time accepting it himself.
Cas decided for him, pushing open the bedroom door and continuing on without acknowledging Dad's insult. Dean let out a low breath, shooting an angry glare at his Dad's turned back before slipping into the room after Cas and closing the door.
Sam was curled up in Dean's bed, clutching a pillow to his chest, fast asleep. His hair fell over his face, obscuring his soft features, and Dean could make out the small trail of drool from the corner of his mouth dripping onto his bed sheets.
Cas hesitated inside the door, taking in Sam's hunched form, eyebrows drawn together with concern. Cas picked at his bottom lip and took a few steps closer to the bed, his ice blue eyes never leaving Sam. It was moments like this where Dean was grateful Sam hadn't taken up with some guy who would just lead him along and use him; he'd found someone who genuinely loved him. Dean was twenty years old and still hadn't found a girl that cared enough to stick around for more than a few weeks.
Sam twitched when he heard Cas's soft footsteps (the kid had always been a light sleeper), and pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing in the dim light of the bedside lamp when his eyes flickered open. He blinked a few times, carefully readjusting himself before settling on his side, and cleared his throat, looking up at Cas through his eyelashes. "Hey."
Cas perched himself on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke Sam's hair. Sam shrank from Cas's gentle touch and shook his head. He crossed his arms and curled his shoulders inwards, like he was trying to make himself look smaller. "Cas, not now, okay? I don't feel good."
Dean leapt into action at those words, moving to Sam's other side to feel his forehead. Sam batted his hands away the same way he had done to Cas and buried his face in his arms, looking absolutely miserable.
"He's a little warm," Dean said softly, the heat from Sam's forehead fading from where he'd felt it stain his calloused fingers. "I'll get some Tylenol."
Dean returned with two of the white tablets in his palm a few moments later to find Sam's eyes had drifted shut. Cas pushed Sam's bangs back off of his forehead, frowning when he felt the slight heat against his palm.
Dean set the pills down next to the glass Sam kept on his bedside table and moved to shake Sam's shoulder to wake him up so he could swallow the medicine, but Cas grabbed his wrist before he could touch Sam.
"Let him sleep, Dean," Cas said quietly, so he wouldn't wake Sam. Sam had already fallen into a surprisingly deep slumber, his chest rising and falling steadily. Cas could feel Sam shivering slightly, and peeled off his coat to lay it over Sam's shuddering, sweaty body.
Dean tongued the inside of his cheek and considered Sam for a moment. He had immediately latched onto Cas's coat, burying his face in the worn fabric and relaxing slightly at the familiar smell of pine and incense woven into the soft fibers. He looked like hell, sweating, shaking, and pale, but Dean figured Cas had a point; Sam might not get back to sleep that easily if Dean woke him up now. He could take the medicine the next time he got up. "Okay."
"I should go," Cas stood up, his long fingers trailing through Sam's tangled hair. He paused for a moment, looking down at Sam with an odd mixture of concern and awe in his pale eyes, like even after knowing Sam for years and years, Cas was still struck by him. And if Cas could look at Sam like that while he was sweaty, bitchy, flushed, and disgusting looking, Dean figured Cas was pretty screwed.
Cas rubbed the back of his neck and ducked his head. "I promised Inias I would take him to the park tomorrow. I have to get some work done before then. I'm sure Sam will be in capable hands."
"I got it covered. Get some sleep, too, idiot," Dean muttered, tugging the blankets up around Sam gently, not even bothering with trying to remove Cas's coat from his brother's death grip on the ratty thing. "You're not going to be able to whisk Sammy away from here if you work yourself to death."
Cas's lips twitched into a sardonic smile. He allowed himself one last look back at his boyfriend's slumbering form; Sam had curled up into a ball again, as if he was trying to protect himself from something. He looked younger when he slept, and the lines stress carved into his features were smoothed out. He looked peaceful and carefree, things he rarely appeared to be while he was awake. Cas's heart ached; Sam was too young to have eyes as jaded as he did. "I suppose that's a fair point."
Cas cringed when he opened his truck door; he could hear Inias screaming inside the house from where he was parked on the lawn. He steeled himself and strode up the rickety porch steps; his siblings were hopeless when it came to calming Inias down from one of his tantrums.
He pulled open the unlocked front door and found Zachariah and Raphael trying to hold down a screaming, red faced Inias. Rachel and Joshua hovered near them in the hallway, uncertain of whether or not they should try to help.
"Inias, calm down!" Raphael barked, gripping the boy's shoulders to pin him to the floor. Inias was struggling against Raphael and screaming as loudly as his small lungs would allow, breathless with sobs. "Stop screaming!"
Zach struggled to keep a hold of Inias's ankles to stop him from kicking. He caught sight of Cas and relief flashed through his eyes. Castiel was the only one now who could get Inias to calm down when he got worked up like this. "Castiel, you're home. Help us out."
"No," Raphael snapped, stopping Cas in his tracks with a furious glare. Cas tilted his head inquisitively, opening his mouth to ask what Raphael meant. Raphael cut him off before he could begin. "Castiel, let me handle it." He returned his attention to Inias and yelled to be heard over Inias's shrill screams of distress. "If you don't stop right now, I will belt you, Inias. Quiet down right now. Stop screaming!"
"Raphael, he doesn't understand!" Cas took a few steps closer and reached out to comfort the eight year old himself. Tears streaked down Inias's bright red cheeks, and if he didn't calm down soon he was going to make himself sick. Inias had caught sight of Cas and reached out for his older brother, his eyes filled with terror. "Let him up, you're scaring him!"
"If you take another step closer, Castiel, I will beat him within an inch of his life and make you watch," Raphael threatened harshly, struggling to keep Inias pinned to the floor. "He needs to learn to listen to someone besides you."
"He's not like us," Cas tried desperately to make Raphael understand that this wouldn't help Inias. "You have to be careful with him. Please, I can calm him down, let me try…"
"Listen to Raphael," Uriel reprimanded Castiel as he moved by them from the kitchen to his bedroom, unmoved by the sounds of distress and fear slipping past Inias's lips. "He's older than you."
Cas growled lowly, not even gracing Uriel with a second glance when he replied, "You're not in charge of me, Uriel."
Uriel huffed, disgruntled, and disappeared into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
"Ca…Ca…" Inias choked out through his breathless sobs, pressing his hands over his ears to block out the overwhelming noises and squeezing his eyes shut.
Cas's resolve broke when Inias's small voice called for him. He strode forward to pull Raphael off Inias and shoved his older brother away from the distraught eight year old. Zach let go of Inias's legs and moved out of the way, giving Cas the space to kneel next to Inias and pull the flailing boy into his arms.
Raphael caught himself on the wall and turned to chastise Cas, but paused when he saw that Inias was actually calming down. Cas was rocking him gently, cradling the boy's small frame tightly to his chest, and speaking to him slowly and firmly.
"Calm down, Inias. You are safe. Breathe. Breathe," Cas repeated over and over, running his hand up and down Inias's back, trying to soothe him.
Inias's screams faded to choked whimpers and his small fingers curled into the front of Cas's shirt. He pressed his face into Cas's chest and wiggled closer on his brother's lap. Cas stood up, lifting Inias with him easily, and slipped by Rachel and Joshua to lay Inias down in his bed. Cas paused, pushed Inias's hair back from his forehead, and sighed softly watching Inias's glassy eyes stare past Cas's shoulder. He pressed a kissed to the boy's forehead.
Inias blinked sleepily, his eyes focused on the wall behind Cas, and smiled innocently, showing off his missing baby teeth. Cas found himself smiling back gently. He pulled the blankets up over Inias's tiny body. "Goodnight, Inias."
"Ca," Inias mumbled softly, rolling over in bed and tugging the blankets around himself, snuggling closer to Cas's side. Cas stayed perched on the edge of his bed for a few more minutes, until Inias's breathing evened out and Cas was sure he was asleep.
Cas stood up slowly and edged out of the room, careful to tread lightly so he didn't wake Inias. He pulled the door shut behind him and came face to face with a fuming Raphael.
"What did I tell you, Castiel?" Raphael growled, shoving Cas back into the door, hard. Cas tried to slip out of Raphael's grip, but his older brother's arms created a barrier he couldn't break on either side of him.
"He doesn't understand," Cas tried again to explain, his stomach twisting. He couldn't let Raphael hit Inias; it wasn't Inias's fault his brain didn't work how theirs did. It wasn't his fault that he didn't understand things the same way the rest of them did. He didn't deserve to be punished. "He just gets scared when you guys start yelling, and you have to be careful about calming him down…"
Raphael struck Cas across the face and hissed in his ear, "I don't care what you think. We will fix him. If you keep babying him, he'll never just be normal."
"He doesn't have to be fixed," Cas said steadily, his ice cold eyes meeting Raphael's burning, angry gaze. "He has to be taken care of by people who love him."
"Don't accuse me of not loving him," Raphael said lowly. "Just let me handle it next time, or you'll get a lot more than a slap across the face. You and Anna always do this, he'll only…"
Raphael paused when he realized what he'd said. His brown eyes darkened and he let out a soft breath, ducking his head for a moment. Cas froze, sure the mention of Anna was enough to anger Raphael enough to beat Cas again; he could still feel his sides throbbing from where Raphael and Uriel had laid into him two days ago for mentioning Anna at dinner.
Raphael let out a low breath and chewed on the inside of his cheek, turning his face away from Cas. "Just don't disobey me again, Castiel."
Raphael dropped his arms to his side and turned on his heel. He stormed down the hall and disappeared out the front door, slamming it behind him; it shook the whole house. Cas let out a long breath, relieved he hadn't had to defend Inias from Raphael, and pushed by Joshua to get into the kitchen.
"Ah, Raphael storming out in a rage?" Balthazar raised an eyebrow and grinned at Cas from where he was sitting at the kitchen table. His fingers were linked behind his neck and he was tilted back on the two back legs of the chair. "I figured you must be home."
"I'm regretting that decision more and more with every moment I spend here," Cas muttered, pulling down an empty mason jar from the shelf above the sink. He filled it with water and took a seat across from Balthazar, rubbing his temples.
"I don't see why you even bother coming home when you could be spending the night with the Winchesters," Balthazar continued, leering at Cas. "They're both pretty into you. I'd take advantage of that in a second."
"Balthazar," Zachariah reprimanded him sharply at the same time Cas snapped, "Both of them are not 'into me'."
"What?" Balthazar blinked innocently and dropped all four legs of the chair back to the floor. He held out his hands, palms up, biting back an amused smile. He loved ruffling Cas's feathers about the Winchesters. He wasn't blind; he knew Cas had a huge crush on Sam, even if the rest of his family seemed blind to it. "I'm just saying. I wouldn't mind if the tall one would—"
"Balthazar!" Zach repeated stiffly, cutting Balthazar off before he could finish his thought. He hated that Cas spent time with the Winchesters, he hated that Cas had changed so much in the past few years because of them. Cas used to be a good kid who came right home from school, did his homework, and read his Bible before going to bed. Now he was always out with Sam and Dean; the kid practically lived at their house. Cas was pushing the rest of his real family away in favor of them, and Zachariah wasn't happy with it. "I don't want to discuss the Winchesters."
"Oh, I do," Lucifer pushed himself up from where he'd been lying on the couch and perched on the back of the sofa, grinning eagerly at Cas. Cas rolled his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face, exasperated. "They're one of my favorite topics. How's Sammy, lately?"
"Sam is fine," Cas replied through gritted teeth, stressing Sam's name. "Thanks for asking."
"You should bring him around sometime," Lucifer's lips curled into an almost obscene smile. "I've only seen him around school. I'd love to meet him."
"He's not coming anywhere near here as long as I can help it," Cas replied firmly. He stood up and dumped the rest of his water down the sink. He rinsed out the glass and placed it in the drying rack, ignoring the curious gazes of his brothers he could feel on his back. "Goodnight."
"Night, Princess," Balthazar grunted, crossing his arms and raising at eyebrow at Cas's terse response to Lucifer's comment.
Rachel squeezed Cas's shoulder as she passed him on his way out of the kitchen. She smiled kindly at him. "Don't listen to them, Cas. Night."
Cas nodded to her, grateful for the expression of kindness from one of his siblings, at least. He rubbed his hands through his hair and wandered down the hall to his bedroom. He collapsed into bed, too tired to work on any schoolwork, and sighed softly, his tense body relaxing into the soft mattress. He could hear Michael and Zachariah speaking lowly in the next room. Balthazar and Lucifer were bantering loudly about the Winchesters (Cas was slightly concerned with how obsessed they seemed to be with his best friend and boyfriend). Hester must have been woken up by all the commotion, because Cas heard her start wailing down the hall. He debated getting up from his warm bed to go comfort her, but few moments later, he heard Gabriel hushing her and lifting her from her crib. Cas heard snatches of Joshua's voice from his room on the other side of the wall next to Cas's bed; he was probably talking to Dad. Uriel was in the living room, bitching about something or the other to Rachel, who probably wasn't paying attention to a word he said.
Cas pulled his pillow over his head and pressed it to his ears, suddenly overwhelmed by the noise and voices, the corners of his eyes stinging.
He took a deep breath and set his jaw. He was strong and he would not allow his family to make him cry. He would make it. He was going to graduate and get himself and Sam out of this hellhole of a town so they could have a real life together if it was the last thing he did.
Cas could never return to living complacently with his oppressive, narrow-minded, violent family; not after he'd met Sam and been shown what it was liked to be loved so completely for who he was; not after he'd met Dean and found someone he could relate to and confide in without feeling like he was being judged; not after he realized he could go to college and have a life away from his family; and certainly not after he had discovered how it felt to have Sam smile at him, to have Sam's lips pressed to his, or to hear Sam's laugh and know he'd caused it. He couldn't just let all of that go.
He wasn't the same person he'd been all those years ago.
He'd met Sam Winchester, and he had fallen.
There you go! I hope you guys liked it!
Please, please review! I'm going on a *shudder* college visit this weekend, so give me something to pull me through:) Seriously, though, they made me inordinately happy when I get them.
Thanks for reading!
