...as promised, two chapters in two days, cause I had it all written but decided to split it into two chapters instead of posting it as one. :)

"Hey Dean, I've made a 'play date' to see Anna next week at 4 PM while Ben is at his debate club practice," Castiel said as he reached up with a tentacle to pass Dean a plate. When Castiel had first helped Dean wash the dishes, Dean had worried that the "grip" that Castiel took on the plate, using the puckers of one tentacle to hold the plate aloft, would not be secure. He'd learned since then just how powerful Castiel's suction cups were. The ceramics weren't in any danger. "We'll be able to get back in ample time to pick him up. I thought you'd not mind hanging out with Charlie again, either. Also—"

"Woah, kinda nervous there, buddy," Dean interrupted with a laugh. "You don't have to convince me, it's cool."

"Good. Thank you."

Dean missed the days when Castiel would have responded to a casual "it's cool" by explaining that it was actually quite a temperate day, but Castiel had grown familiar with the idioms that Dean and Ben used most often. Dean would have to try harder to come up with idioms and slang that Castiel wasn't familiar with yet. Dean took the last dish from Castiel and scrubbed at it.

"We'll hit the road at 3:15 PM," Dean said, rinsing the plate. "Don't be late!" Castiel gave him a scathing look and rolled his eyes as he turned to return to his tank.

Shaking his head, smiling over the halfling's foibles, Dean went to the fridge, grabbed his lunch bag, and went to put on his boots. His glum mood of the day before had faded with a good night's sleep. He'd helped Ben with his homework, which was always satisfying, and though Castiel remained reserved he at least came to breakfast. Bobby had let Dean rearrange his work schedule into five days of fourteen hours each, divided into shifts in the mornings while Ben was at school and third shift while the others were asleep. It wasn't ideal but it ensured that Dean was available when Ben needed him, had a weekend day off, and could help Castiel out, too. There'd be time to sleep when he was dead. Or, rather, when he finally paid of Ben's college bills. At least he was inching towards finishing the mortgage payments. Lisa's foresight in suggesting they overpay each month even when it meant scrimping and saving was paying huge dividends now. She always—

"Dean."

Startled, Dean jerked his head up from his intent study of his shoelaces, giving them one last tug and tying a bow as he turned. Castiel stood behind him at the top of the short staircase that led to the landing on which Dean sat – a tiny room that joined the garage and kitchen where their shoes and jackets lived.

"Everything okay, Castiel?" Dean asked.

"I'm sorry about my behavior yesterday," Castiel said in a rush. Dean blinked, opened his mouth to reply only to snap it shut as Castiel continued. "I hate going out. I know you mean well and that you think I need to get out of the house more…but I hate it. People are always glaring at me and saying nasty things. If you don't hear them they keep talking; if you do hear them, you get angry. It makes me nervous when you're angry."

"I'd never hurt you, Castiel," Dean objected.

"No – I know, that's not why, we – half-octopi, I mean – are sensitive to the emotional states of those around us, especially those we are close to," Castiel stumbled over the explanation but pressed on. "It's…perturbing…to me when you are out of sorts. Thus I end up having to process my own emotional state and yours as well. Further, it's so noisy out in the world, and yet so lonely at the same time. I feel so isolated and out of touch with…myself…when I'm out there. I don't know…there's no way I can explain it, but…it hurts, Dean."

"I'm sorry." Ashamed, Dean couldn't look his friend in the eye. Castiel had never made a secret of how little he liked to go out, yet Dean had forced him time and time again.

"Don't be." Castiel shook his head. "Actually, I want to work on it. I want to get better. I was…thinking…about places that are quiet, places that might be accepting. I was hoping…maybe…could you drop me off at the library on your way to work?"

"Are you sure?" asked Dean. "I mean, don't get me wrong – sure, I'd be thrilled to drive you anywhere you want to go but I'll be at work for the next seven hours. It'll be tough for me to leave if you want out and that'd be a heck of a long time out of water and on your own. Like, I get if you want to push your boundaries but you're kinda jumpin' in the deep end on this one."

"That's fine," Castiel said. "I have my keys." He held them up, jangling, to emphasize the point. "I looked at a map and I think I can make my own way home afterwards. It's supposed to rain today, so I won't dry out."

Nodding slowly, Dean got up, brushed his jeans off unnecessarily, and opened the door to the garage. Holding it for Castiel, he gestured invitation. With a shy smile, Castiel walked out.

The silence that accompanied this drive was less oppressive than the one the day before, but something was still off. Dean kept glancing his in rearview mirror to see that Castiel was alright. The halfling seemed nervous, tentacles shaded unusually dark as they suctioned and unsuctioned from the car seat. Despite that, there was a determined look on his face and an air of resolution and resignation to him. Fortunately, the library was ideally situated to ensure this plan wasn't a disaster: about a mile from home, the squat, ugly municipal building that housed the local branch was rougly equidistant between the house and the shop.

"You call me if you need anything for any reason," Dean said sternly.

"Sure, dad," deadpanned Castiel. The word fell on Dean's head like a ton of bricks, profoundly not okay for no reason he could put his finger on.

"Fuck that – and don't you ever call me that again – I mean it, Castiel," reiterated Dean, climbing out of the car and circling it to release Castiel from his restraints. "If anyone gives you a hard time, if you get tired walking home, if it just fucking sucks for some reason, if—" If you get overwhelmed or unhappy… "Just, you fucking call me. It'll only take a little bit to get you home. You know my number, right?"

Am I…am I racist? Am I angry because the thought of someone like me being the father to a halfling is disgusting to me?

"351 555 8234," Castiel recited.

I'm not, though. I've heard of halflings in relationships with humans before. Heck, I've even watched a few pornos about that. It doesn't bother me.

Fuck, it's even kinda hot.

"Good," Dean said gruffly, distressed by the direction his thoughts had taken. "I'll see you later."

Unbidden, half-formed memories of a dream Dean must have had at some point in the recent past sprung into the forefront of his mind.

Nodding, Castiel headed towards the main entrance.

There was touch all over his body, touch to his legs and his arms, hands that somehow weren't hands clinging to him, something thick and warm and alive stuffed in his mouth, far too many limbs for one person to possess, unless…

"Call!" Dean shouted after him. Castiel held up a small hand in a thumbs up, suctioned up the wall, hit the handicapped access button to open the door, and disappeared within.

…unless the person he had been fantasizing about hadn't been a human person. Castiel had enough appendages – arms – to satisfy that particular flight of fancy.

Way to be a fuckin' perv again, Dean, he's 16 years old and fucking 26 inches tall.

My fuckin' cock is, like, the size of his entire arm.

Shaking the disturbing mental images away, Dean put the Corolla back in gear and headed to work.

To Dean's pleasant surprise, Castiel reported that afternoon that he'd had a nice few hours at the library. He'd been permitted to sign up for a library card, which he showed off proudly, and he'd brought home a book, a weighty tome entitled The History of the Half-Human Races: From Equality to Servitude. Reading had become much easier as the amount of time Castiel could comfortably spend out of water had grown. No longer did every book need to be laminated – which was good, because it turned out that even the best laminator at Staples could only keep water out for so long before the pages were inundated. The following morning, Castiel asked to be taken to the library again, and a new pattern was established.

At night, when Castiel was resting in his tank, Ben was fast asleep, and Dean was at work bored out of his skull awaiting the occasional middle of the night tow job sent their way by AAA, he leafed curiously through the book Castiel had borrowed. The History of the Half-Human Races was dense, filled with long paragraphs festooned with footnotes and complex charts, but interesting. Normally, Dean would never have considered reading such a thing. He'd barely gotten through high school and no one in their right mind would have suggested him as a candidate for college. The brick of a book was the kind of thing he'd have torn pages out of to roll joints when he was cutting class in anticipation of getting transferred to yet another new place with another new family and another new set of siblings and another new set of unreasonable, unachievable expectations and another new set of teachers who knew he was a lost cause.

The word "octopus" caught his eye as he leafed through and Dean stopped, too late, the page lost. Frowning, he flipped to the table of contents and scanned the topics. The first few chapters were dedicated to describing the general history of all types of halflings. The bulk of the book was devoted to an in-depth analysis of the course of events for each type of halfling. Half-octopi were covered in Chapter 17, page 526. Flipping through, Dean skimmed through the pages until he found the right one.

"The history of every species of halfling follows a unique trajectory, but half-octopi have perhaps the most unusual. Their ability to inhabit both land and sea, the dexterity of their ten limbs, their intelligence from a young age, all set them apart from other types of half-people.

"The natural inclination of most half-octopi is towards seclusion. The natural habitat of the half-octopi mirrors that of full-octopi, shallow coastal waters where they seek refuge in natural rock or coral formations, or build their own abodes if they must. Half-octopi heavily modify the environments around them and excel at construction; along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea half-octopi homes built thousands of years ago can still be explored by the intrepid scuba diver. It is in these grottos that the history of interaction between half-octopi and humanity began.

"The seafaring peoples of the ancient world frequently encountered sirens and mermaids but half-octopi were considered mythical despite occasional accounts of rescued sailors. In the Odyssey, Odysseus escapes the sirens only to seek refuge on an island peopled by half-octopi – an unlikely scenario, given their reclusive nature. The oldest detailed study of half-octopi that has survived to the modern age was conducted by Aristotle, whose observations along the coast of Lesbos informed opinions on sea-life for the subsequent 2,000 years. While his descriptions and drawings of anatomy are excellent – he was the first, for example, to recognize that the hectocotryl arm is a feature shared in common between full octopi and half-octopi – his discussion of half-octopi society was less incisive. Used to seeing intellectual ability within a particular set of rigid criteria, Aristotle concluded that half-octopi were unintelligent, nearly animals, and contrasted them unfavorable to merfolk. This ill-conceived conclusion was the basis of millennia of oppressive, tortuous behavior towards these gentle, brilliant half-people.

"Though the intelligence of half-octopi was disparaged, their physical strength, dexterity and stamina were indisputable. On the islands around Santorini, half-octopi were driven from the sea by sulfuric compounds leaking from undersea vents in the middle of the first millennium BCE. They sought refuge with humans and relationships were forged that enabled the species to survive. Within a few generations, this mutually beneficial relationship grew into an imbalanced one, with half-octopi serving human masters. Half-octopi who would not cooperate were killed. By the time of Caesar…"

Intrigued, Dean read laboriously through the history, learning about half-octopi, resenting the few phone calls and tow jobs that interrupted his evening. It was a sad tale of genocide and servitude, concluding with what Dean already knew: that there were no wild half-octopi remaining in the world. As he threw the book into the passenger's seat before heading home, head swirling with facts and dates and names, Dean wondered for the first time if Castiel longed for the open sea even though he'd never seen it.

Dean was ashamed that he'd never thought of it before.

"They get along so well," said Charlie happily, shucking off her work vest as if she'd just realized she was still wearing it. She'd gotten off work just before Castiel and Dean had arrived for their visit more than an hour ago, and now the four of them sat poolside in the backyard of her small bungalow on the outskirts of Kansas City.

"Things here still good?" Dean asked, eyes on Castiel and Anna. Though Anna was only two years older than Castiel, female half-octopi reached maturity younger than the males did, and Anna stood nearly six feet tall, her tentacles flame red to rival the shade of her hair. Castiel didn't reach her waist. To negate the difference, Anna lay on her stomach on the ground, tentacles dipping in and out of the pool. The hem of her shirt slowly soaked dark with the wetness.

"Awesome," Charlie grinned. "Dude I am so glad I decided to adopt Anna. You were right to push me towards an adult half-octopi instead of a merwoman." Castiel smiled, tentacles shifting to a beautiful shade of bright blue, eyes glittering in the light. Something in Dean's chest ached. Anna's answering gentle smile didn't help. The two got along so well. It was ridiculous for Dean to be jealous. He considered Castiel his closest friend, but why should Castiel feel the same? The poor creature was a slave. Of course he'd prefer friendship with one of his own people.

And more than friendship?

"It was a no-brainer," Dean sniffed. "Half-octopi can leave the water. Merpeople can't. Given where we live, it's not fair to expect a merperson to spend their entire life in a pool. In the wild they usually have a square mile or more of open ocean to call their own."

"I know, I know, but the legal requirements for ownership only mandate 500 square feet…" Charlie trailed off and shrugged. Catching Dean's skeptical expression, she laughed. "You know, half-octopi prefer a similarly sized natural habitat."

"Do they?" Dean shook his head and glanced at Castiel and Anna talking animatedly. His thoughts were on The History of the Half-Human Races. "There isn't a half-octopus alive that wasn't bred in captivity. Who knows what they want, or what their preference would be, if they were permitted to have a preference." When Castiel learned that Dean borrowed the book, he seemed pleased, and in the days since then several more books about halfling rights and the unpleasant history of interaction between humans and halflings had appeared around the house. A website had been left open on Dean's web browser with information on charities pursuing equality, complete with links to give donations. Dean didn't have any money, and in other respects Castiel was preaching to the choir, but it worried Dean that Castiel didn't realize that Dean had always been on board with equality for halflings.

When he wasn't too tired to function, Dean considered how he could make it more clear to his pet that Dean was in favor of halfling freedom despite the risks. Kansas wasn't one of the states where it was illegal to own books advocating emancipation for halflings, but it was illegal to share such books with halflings. The city home inspectors had, reluctantly, reminded Dean that he needed to have a firewall set up to prevent the halfling from finding websites that used certain keywords. Dean had kept the settings in his router until they left and then removed them. Castiel wasn't stupid. He knew that, no matter how well Dean treated him, he was still a slave and still subject to the unreasonable laws of Kansas and the United States. But fuck all if Dean was going to do anything to further the government's oppressive agenda.

"Earth to Dean," Charlie said slowly and loudly, waving a hand in front of his face. "Dude, no sick sexual fantasies in my backyard."

"Even if I promise there are no dicks involved?" Dean laughed, happy to have something ridiculous to pull him away from thoughts of all the things about the world that he hated and couldn't possibly change. He'd been obsessing about Castiel's unhappiness ever since the bullshit incident at the Gas 'n Sip.

"Especially if there are no dicks involved." Charlie stuck her tongue out and made a comically exaggerated yuck face. "I know what kind of ridic ideas cis hetero dudes come up with about lesbians. I've seen porn."

Surprised, Dean quirked his head at her and blinked. "What makes you think I'm hetero?" Charlie met his surprise with her own and broke into a dazzling smile.

"Man, here I am, involved in the scene, all out and proud and 'support your QUILTBAG brothers and sisters,' and then I fall into the same heteronormative bullshit and just fuckin' assume you're hetero cause you were married to a woman." Charlie shook her head in mock regret. "So, what, in the closet or bi? Or trans? Not that it's any of my business…"

"Bi and proud." Dean grinned. "I bleed pink, purple and blue."

"You might want to have a doctor look at that," she replied blandly, eyes twinkling.

"Very—"

Loud laughter interrupted Dean, Castiel and Anna both had their heads thrown back, shaking with delight. Their tentacles were interwoven; Anna laughed so hard she rolled on to her back, carrying Castiel with her so that he hovered suspended in midair by her many arms.

He should be allowed to live in the ocean. He should be free. He should have friends and make a home and find love among his own people.

Emancipation was illegal.

A shrill alarm cut through Dean's sadness and Castiel and Anna's humor. Worried that they'd get absorbed in hanging out, Dean had set a timer to warn them when it was time to leave and pick up Ben. Recognizing the alert for what it was, Castiel gathered himself and Anna set him down. The two halflings came over and joined Dean and Charlie, playfully slapping each other's tentacles and grinning. Dean had never seen Castiel so happy; his human torso was flushed red with glee from cheeks to nipple-less chest. His tentacles were flushed, too, more burgundy than usual; even the double row of suction cups on each of his arms were tinged a delicate pink. The look Castiel gave Anna was open, unguarded, affectionate, and alien.

Well, at least it looks like he's found love…

It disturbed Dean that the thought stirred bile in his stomach, made him bitter with jealousy. Twisting an imminent scowl into a forced smile, he turned back to Charlie.

"So, when are we gonna see you again?" he said as brightly as he could manage. Dean had no right to be jealous. If Castiel and Anna shared a mutual interest, be it in friendship or…something more…it was not for Dean to discourage them. Since Castiel lacked the freedom to pursue relationships without help, Dean would do everything in his power to support Castiel's obvious desire, just as he was supporting Castiel's interest in going to the library.

"What do you think, Anna?" Charlie redirected.

"Might we able to visit Lawrence sometime soon?" the halfling asked timidly. She'd had a tough life, though Dean didn't know the details. Charlie had gotten her recently from a halfling rescue down in Tulsa and she and Castiel had hit it off instantly. "Castiel talks about your son Ben frequently and I was hoping to meet him."

"That'd be awesome," Dean said with more heartfelt enthusiasm. If Anna approved of and was interested in Ben, that was a-okay in Dean's book and a definite vote in her favor. But he was still jealous. "I'm workin' mornings and evenings, but during the day – times like now – generally work well. And it goes without saying that you're welcome to come visit Castiel even if I'm not around. He doesn't need a chaperone. You know that, right, Castiel? You're welcome to invite your friends over any time."

Dean wasn't sure if Castiel had any other friends. Dean had no damn right to be jealous. Castiel was so isolated, he must be profoundly lonely. No wonder he was going to the library every day, no wonder he wanted to force himself to overcome his fears and leave the house, no wonder he was pushing Dean to learn more about halfling rights, no wonder—

"Next Monday?" Charlie suggested. "I have the day off from work."

"It's a date," said Castiel, his usual air of solemnness slowly, sadly replacing his recent jollity. Dean sighed and forced himself to let go of his pride. Castiel depended on Dean; it wasn't for Dean to demand or even request things of Castiel. As a parent, Dean's responsibility to Ben was to put Ben's needs first and do whatever he must to build the best life possible for his son – a better life than Dean and his brother had. Likewise, as an owner, it was Dean's responsibility to do his best to provide for Castiel, ensure his comfort, and take care of him.

Warm goodbyes were exchanged all around, Charlie and Dean hugging, Anna and Castiel lacing their tentacles together, and then Dean and Castiel made their way back to the car.

Silence reigned. Again.

Is he happy living with me?

Starting the car, engine humming, Dean glanced at Castiel in the rear-view mirror as he backed out of Charlie's driveway and headed down the street. The halfling stared out the window, pensive, tentacles idly curling around the edges of the car seat. They were lighter than usual, speckled with a pattern that matched that of the car upholstery, and a slight frown deepened as Castiel watched Charlie and Anna's house disappear around a corner. Repressing a sigh, Dean turned his eyes back to the road.

He doesn't seem happy.

The drive passed in yet another oppressive, uncomfortable, endless silence. Though he suspected he was overreacting, Dean couldn't escape the feeling that his family was falling apart again. Wasn't that the story of his life? His mother left, his father sent Dean to his first day of middle school with a black eye, he and Sammy got dragged into the system and separated, and Dean was lucky if he stayed in any one place for more than a year. The adults who took him in never came to feel like family but some of his foster brothers and foster sisters became as important to him as real siblings. Not that it mattered; when Dean was forced to move again, what relationships he'd forged were torn asunder. Turning 18 changed everything, meeting Lisa changed everything again, and finally, finally, Dean thought he'd found something stable, only to have her die in a fluke accident. Her death had left a void in Dean's life, an empty space between himself and Ben, but Ben didn't want Dean to replace Lisa and Dean struggled to imagine himself with another partner anyway. Adding Castiel to the mix had been a chance to hit the reset button, a fresh attempt at yet another family configuration, but Dean should have realized it would never work. The imbalances forced on his and Ben's relationship with Castiel by law meant that no matter how inclusive Dean tried to be, Castiel must always be aware of his outsider status. If Castiel had a choice, truly had a choice, why should he stay at Dean's house in suburban Lawrence, Kansas, when he could instead take to the open sea and live among his own kind, forge relationships with those like him?

Castiel's family had been as disrupted and ruined as Dean's. Much like Dean, he'd had a new parent and a new sibling forced on him. Unlike Dean, Castiel had scarcely gotten a choice in how to rebuild it. Even when Castiel came of age, he'd still be denied the opportunity to escape the family he'd been enslaved into and build a life of his own choosing.

No wonder Castiel was awkwardly silent so often of late. No wonder he seemed so unhappy in Dean's company. Dean might see Castiel as his friend but Castiel surely couldn't help but see Dean his captor, his jailor, his overseer, his master.

At least, based on what Anna said, Castiel didn't see Ben that way. It would break Dean's heart. Ben loved the halfling like a brother.

And doesn't that make it all the more disgustingly creepy that I am jealous of Anna? I want to think I'm not like the worst of the foster parents who took me in but, with thoughts like those in my head, I'm no better than the fucking Millers, those fucking brothers who cornered me in the kitchen and…

Dean shook the thought away. He didn't want to think about it. He never wanted to think about some of the things that had happened to him, never wanted to relive his fears that the same things were happening to Sammy. One of the greatest reliefs in Dean's life had been Sam finding a stable home, living with Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle, finding actual parents among the dregs of society who so often somehow seemed to get permission to be foster parents.'Course, that was because Sam was Sam, young and innocent and wide-eyed and brilliant and trusting. Anyone would have wanted Sam as their son. Dean, on the other hand, might as well have hung a sign on his forehead that said "abuse and neglect me" based on the way he was treated and…

…fuck. Why the fuck couldn't he stop thinking about it? The silence in the car was driving him batshit, the boring drive scarce engaging his attention, much less distracting him.

"You know…" Dean's voice rumbled, deeper than normal due to his anxiety. He chanced a look back at Castiel, driving the familiar highway by rote, and wasn't sure what to make of Castiel's expression of wide-eyed startlement. "You know I'd let you go if I could, right?" Castiel blinked at him, first with the opaque blue lids that filtered light underwater, then with his human eyelids. Dean forced himself to pay attention to traffic, tearing his gaze from the small face that looked far to adult and knowing for one of Castiel's size and youth. Just like me, he was forced to grow up much too quickly. "Like, I'm not fricken allowed to emancipate you, but if I could…you know…anyway…in a couple years, I was thinking, if you want a life of your own there are a few places that will hire halflings. Your pay would come to me but ya gotta know—"

"Dean…"

"Ya gotta know I'd never keep that from you," Dean continued, desperate. He wasn't sure why he was desperate, wasn't sure why he was so sure that shit was about to hit the fan, but the feeling was inescapable and it felt awful. "We could rent you an apartment somewhere near our place and you could support yourself. I mean, I wish – I really, really fuckin' wish – that I could get you near the ocean but we can't afford to move now and I don't want to rip Ben's life up even if we could and—"

"Dean!" Castiel interrupted sharply. "It's fine."

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Dean found Castiel staring down his reflection. The halfling's expression was hard and unreadable, far too mature for his small form.

"Right," Dean muttered. "Sorry. I guess I just…I mean…fuck it." The longer Dean spoke, the longer he wavered, the deeper Castiel's frown grew. "Never mind. You do what you have to do, Castiel."

Neither said another word the remainder of the trip. Dean's thoughts spiraled, growing darker and darker, and it was all he could do to force himself not to pull over and retch on the side of the road. He couldn't face his family falling apart again. Maybe, if Lisa was with him, but alone? Sure, he wasn't exactly alone, he had Ben, he had Benny and the guys at the mechanic shop, he had Sam in a pinch but he hated to burden the kid, and he'd thought he had Castiel but clearly he was wrong. As soon as they pulled up to the house, Castiel fumbled at his seat fastening, unbuckled himself and fled the car. Dean tried to tell himself there was a reasonable explanation. Castiel had been out of water for hours, after all, so it was reasonable that with only a murmured "thank you" he glided smoothly on his tentacles back to his tank and disappeared into the water. There was nothing wrong. Castiel was just tired and needed to immerse himself.

Right.

Lying to himself never made Dean feel better

Dean's evening flew by. He shoved a casserole in the oven, went to pick up Ben, chatted with his son over dinner. Though he was deeply troubled, he found it depressingly easy to make a show of good cheer. Once, that had been every day of his life. Home was shit, school was shit, but if he put on big false grin and acted like a cocksure clown no one would suspect the truth. It had been years since Dean had needed to pretend, though. When he seemed happy now, he was usually actually happy. Nonetheless, the act returned to him easily and he slid into it like a second skin.

Midnight found Dean sitting on the couch, a beer on his hand, eye lids at half-mast. The TV was on, the only source of light in the living room, casting bright shadows in strange colors over the walls. Ben had gone to bed hours before, and Castiel's light was off, implying he was asleep as well. Drifting somewhere between wakefulness and unconsciousness, Dean idly took a sip from his beer, his sleepy fumbling causing him to accidentally spill some down his chin. In two hours, he had to go to work. He should be asleep, but sleep wouldn't come.

"Dean."

Castiel's low voice, the deep gravelly bass so incongruous with his small form, startled Dean to alertness. He hadn't heard the halfling emerge from his tank. Standing beside the couch, Castiel looked strange and alien illuminated by the glow of the television, but even with his face darkened by eerie shadows it was obvious how trouble he was. His eyes were lowered, he wrung his hands, his tentacles were tightly, protectively bunched together to support his weight.

"I don't…I don't understand what happened earlier," Castiel said anxiously. "In the car."

Way to go, Winchester, you pulled your shit on the only person in the universe even more fucking poorly socialized than you are.

"It was nothin'," Dean shook his head and set the beer down on the coffee table with a clunk. "I got stuck in my own head after watchin' you and Anna together, thinkin' about how shit it is that you and she have to live the way you do."

And then somehow that morphed into thinking about my own fucked up life, cause I'm a fucking selfish asshole that way. As if what I went through is anything like living in slavery from the day I was born until the day I die. As if what I went through is anything like looking different, always looking different, having to put up every day with the racist shit that people do so automatically that they don't even realize they're doing it.

"And are you still?" Castiel asked.

"Huh?" Dean shoved the thoughts down and tried to focus.

He was so fucking tired.

"Are you still stuck in your own head?" clarified Castiel. "Is that why you're sitting up and drinking instead of getting some rest? You need to take care of yourself, Dean. You work too hard."

Jaw dropping, Dean blinked at the halfling, at a loss for words.

"I've been thinking about what you said, and about what you implied. Do you think I am unhappy here?" Castiel pressed. Dean shook his head, though he couldn't have said what the gesture was meant to convey. Too many contradictory thoughts crowded his head. "I do not expect you to uproot your life to accommodate what you believe my desires to be. Further, I do not understand how you can work yourself to such a state based on assumptions when you have not spoken to me. I am not…skilled…at this subtlety and innuendo. Rather than act on what you believe my feelings to be, I wish you would speak with me."

Dean snapped his mouth shut, opened it again, closed it again, and finally found voice to say, "What do you want, Castiel?"

"I want to stay here," Castiel replied immediately. "I'm happy in your home. I care for you and Ben a great deal. This is the closest thing I have had to a family since my brothers and sisters and I were separated from our parents and sent to pet stores around the country. I might perhaps get a job but it's not worth considering until I am of age. However, regardless, I would not trade what I have here for a chance to return to the ocean. From what I understand, the oceans are polluted and the coral reefs are dying; whereas here I am comfortable, secure, and cared for." He hesitated. "There's one other thing…I want to go to this." Castiel held out a fist, though he didn't appear to be holding anything. Hesitantly, Dean leaned forward, reached out and placed his hand beneath Castiel's and Castiel dropped something onto his palm. It was a balled up piece of paper, scrunched so tight by nervous hands that it took Dean a careful minute to unfold it enough to read what the billet said by the light of an inane, over-bright commercial.

RALLY FOR HALFLING RIGHTS AND EQUALITY!

Monday, September 19th is International Halfling Awareness Day!

Halflings around the world are held in perpetual involuntary servitude.

Many humans KNOW this is WRONG, but say nothing!

If WE do not act, nothing will change!

Join us outside the

Kansas State Capital Building in Topeka

at 2 PM

for an afternoon of speeches and events to raise awareness!

Sign out petition to the Kansas State Government urging the repeal of

Statute 40.15.4b, which denies halflings the right to accuse

humans of crimes against their person.

It is the most restrictive law of its in kind in the country.

THINGS NEED TO CHANGE!

MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD ON

MONDAY SEPTEMBER 19TH IN TOPEKA!

HALFLINGS AND HUMANS WELCOME!

Dean read it, read it again, and considered his schedule for that week. He'd have to skip work, but it was a cause he could absolutely get behind. Hadn't he spent days wishing there was a way he could change the world? While going to a rally might be an empty gesture, he could at least say he'd tried. If he stayed home and did nothing, he was as culpable as those who sanguinely sat back as the legislature passed laws like Statute 40.15.4b, as culpable as the two hags at the Gas 'n Sip. The Statute in question was criminal, and almost certainly unconstitutional. It didn't merely deny halflings equal protection on the law; it forbade them from bringing criminal cases against those who assaulted or injured them, even if the aggressor was their owner, even if the crime was rape. It was barbaric and it had passed the Republican-led legislature and been signed by their dick-bag of a governor not long after Dean adopted Castiel. Several challenges to the law were working their way through the legal system and it seemed inevitable that it'd be over turned, but that hadn't stopped the state government from standing firm in their support of the law, and furthering their blatant show of bigotry by suggesting expansions to it. Statute 40.15.4c was working its way through the state committees, and would deny halflings access to most business establishments and prevent them from holding any form of employment. There seemed to be no bounds to the lengths to which people would go to deny others the rights they themselves took for granted.

"So, um, what do you think?"

Blinking, Dean looked up, taking a moment to refocus his eyes in the uneven light. Castiel kept glancing up at him then glancing down again, and Dean was shocked to realize Castiel was petrified.

Perhaps he should be. Merely attending this could get me arrested and him taken away from us permanently. If I was a different man, a different person, I could turn him in for suggesting we attend this. The authorities would probably put him down, as surely as they'd put down a dog that bit someone, as if Castiel were a mere animal.

Maybe he should be scared.

Maybe I should be scared too.

But I'm not.

"Dude. Castiel. Cas. Of course we can go. Fuck, I'll even talk to Ben's teachers, see if they'll let him out a little early cause it's, like, educational or some shit to get involved in the democratic process."

They wouldn't arrest a twelve year old kid, would they?

"Really?" Castiel's entire face transformed as he looked up, light picking out his features, pale and hopeful and beautiful as he smiled at Dean as brightly as he'd smiled at Anna earlier. Relief warmed Dean's chest. Castiel wasn't upset with Dean. Knowing the halfling, he'd probably been trying to work up the nerve to ask Dean about the rally.

"Scout's honor," Dean promised, not that he'd ever been a boy scout. "Is this why you've been so quiet and weird all damn week?" Castiel nodded sheepishly. "Next time just talk to me!"

"Only if you'll do the same," responded Castiel, climbing up onto the couch. The awkward tension between them had vanished. Relieved, Dean slouched into the cushions, and to his surprise a moment later Castiel crept into his personal space, curled into a damp ball on his chest, rested his head on his hands and looked at Dean expectantly.

Dean had no idea what Castiel expected.

"I will," Dean promised.

Whatever Castiel wanted, Dean's response seemed adequate, for he shifted his head to a more comfortable position, closed his eyes, and fell asleep as Dean watched him, bemused.

As long as he's happy.

Content, unable to keep a smile from his face, Dean let his eyes slip shut.

Everything is alright.

I didn't fuck my family up.

And I can do better – I can show him I mean what I say, I can go to the rally and show my support for his equality.

Fuck it, I have a fucking awesome family.

With that thought soothing him, Dean drifted asleep.

End note: Goal is to have the next chapter up by Thursday or Friday next week. Thanks for reading, everyone! Y'all have already made this my most subscribed to story (on AO3, anyway...it's second to Abnormal on FF dot net)! Wow!

Also, FYI, I'm guessing there will be two or three more chapters during this "time" before the next time jump takes place. :)