Prologue Part 4
Cas went to college and Dean didn't. He took the first job he could find in his hometown as a mechanic while Cas moved a hundred miles away to become a nurse. It worked for a while, but as things go, the distance began wearing at the seams of their relationship. Dean couldn't talk to Cas like he used to about everyday events, didn't understand half of what was spoke of most of the time because he wasn't there. They weren't together anymore, so being together didn't seem right.
Dean could say that he broke it off with Cas so he could live his life; get a college boyfriend and move on from the silly romance of his youth like everybody else does. He could say he left because he didn't want to hold Cas back. He could say it was for Cas until his lips chapped.
But it wouldn't be true.
Dean left Cas because he was a selfish bastard and he didn't want to go through life knowing that he let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers. He knew from the beginning that it wouldn't last. First loves never last.
Except when they do.
Dean did well for himself in Texas after the whole homeless thing. A kind old woman who owned a cafe gave Dean a chance and gave him a job – and even her spare bedroom until he got on his feet. Dean did not disappoint. He showed up early and left late, and he got a small place in the city. He saved every spare penny he earned and nearly five years after he though he'd left for good, he found himself back in Oklahoma, driving up Main Street of his home town. He was going home.
He'd called ahead. Mary was ecstatic about seeing him again and told him that Sam had promised to be there when he arrived. And he was. He practically jumped into Dean's arms when Dean pulled up in an old garbage heap of a car.
‟Jesus Christ, Sammy!″ Dean said under the weight of his moose of a brother, but hugged him back just a fiercely.
‟I missed you, Dean,″ Sam said, face buried in his shoulder, and Dean felt the hot roll of tears.
Dean closed his eyes and gave one final squeeze before Mary pried him off and got her own hug in. It was shorter than Sam's, but it was accompanied by a big gross mom kiss and a hair ruffle. ‟I'm glad you're back, kiddo.″
Then, unexpectedly, his mother and brother separated, and Dean caught sight of the front door of the house wide open, and a familiar figure leaning against the doorjamb. Dean only gaped, unsure if his eyes were telling the truth. His mouth dropped open as he looked Cas over, noting the torn up jeans and white t-shirt and just how much he'd missed that sight.
‟Cas,″ he breathed, voice breaking only slightly.
The answering smile was blinding. ‟Hello, Dean.″
And Dean found himself running toward Castiel, ignoring the snort of amusement from his brother as he launched himself into his arms.
Cas held him close and Dean relished in the contact, neither letting go for an uncomfortably long amount of time. After a moment, Cas whispered in his ear. ‟I need you, Dean. Please take me back.″
Dean replied with a kiss.
Even in the Darkest of Times
Chapter Four – As if it Were Your Last
Shauna spends the next week going nuts about the wedding details, showing them pictures of her favorite kinds of flowers on Charlie's laptop and telling them the perfect colors for the wedding. Blue and green. Dean rolls eyes and says 'thanks, Captain Obvious.″ To which she replies, 'I'm right and you know it.' They were forced to concede her point. They weren't actually planning anything yet, nor had they set a date, but the girl was persistent on helping anyway.
Then November arrives with a flourish, gusting winds coming in the door of the diner getting colder by the day. Business dies down a bit now that classes are back in full swing, the students from the surrounding area no longer trying to fight the relentlessness of time. Shauna still comes by every day, though, and Dean thinks it's nice that not everything ends with the summer.
Dean and Castiel are walking through their neighborhood that weekend, bundled against the chill, and Dean still can't stop rubbing the silver ring on his left hand, smiling to himself. Cas notices this. He grins and takes Dean's hand, only to start messing with the ring himself.
‟I should get you one too,″ Dean states.
‟That can wait until the wedding,″ he answers, pulling Dean to turn the corner instead of going straight. Dean follows without question.
‟So,″ he says, falling back into step. ‟What are you thinking of for your vows?″ He's curious to see if Cas has put any thought into it yet? And good God, when did he become the one to ask about girly stuff like that.
Cas considers the question, looking up, still twisting Dean's ring around his finger. ‟Well,″ he muses, ‟I think I'll start with when we first met and sorta extrapolate from there.″
Dean punches him in the arm, but doesn't let go of his hand. ‟You're never gonna let me forget that are you?″
Cas rubs his arm gingerly. ‟You hold the fact that you're an inch taller than me over my head all the time. Literally!″ He laughs. ‟You think I'm ever gonna let that gem go?″
‟I hate you.″
‟Shut up.″
They continue on for a moment. Cas shivers and wraps his scarf tighter around his neck. ‟I'm gonna die this winter.″
That gets a chuckle from Dean. ‟Don't be a baby.″ He lets go of Cas' hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders. He asks, ‟You wanna stop by the diner later? Shauna said she'd be there 'round three today.″
Cas nods, and says, ‟She's a good kid.″
Dean smiles, proud, despite himself. ‟Yeah. It's just,″ he pauses, pensively. ‟It just... It sucks, you know.″
Cas turns his head, eyes squinting slightly. ‟What?″
‟Her mom. It sucks she doesn't pay attention to Shauna. She's such a good kid, and smart, and kind. All in spite of her bad luck in life. She needs someone to look after her.″
Cas rolls his eyes at him, and then calls him an idiot, stopping on the sidewalk. ‟What are you talking about? She does have someone looking after her.″
Dean tilts his head, confused for a second before he understands what Cas is implying. ‟Huh? Me?″
‟Yes, you, you moron.″ Cas pulls away and pokes him in the chest. ‟She adores you, in case you hadn't noticed. Follows you around like a baby duck.″
Dean scoffs and begins walking again, Cas matching his pace. ‟Whatever," Dean says, "She's always asking about your job. She thinks your some kinda hero.″
Cas rolls his eyes again. ‟What is this? 'She loves me more' but in reverse? Let's just agree that she likes the both of us and try to be someone she can look to for help if she ever needs it.″
Dean smiles, though he can feel a tendril of worry begin to wrap around his insides. He pushes it away. ‟Did I tell you someone mistook her for my daughter the other day?″
Cas just raises an eyebrow.
‟She was helping me serve a big table and they said something like, 'oh what a sweet girl, helping her daddy out at work.' We didn't have the heart to correct them.″
Dean receives a small titter in response as they spot their house in the distance, speeding up their pace to reach the warmth faster. ‟Race ya!″ Dean shouts and takes off before Cas realizes what is happening.
On Monday, Shauna shows up as usual, coming straight from getting off the bus. She finishes her homework and then begins to help Charlie organize the shelving system. Castiel has gotten off early because of... ‟something something at the office″ – Dean wasn't really listening – and is sweeping the floor. Matt is off for the day, so Donna is in the kitchen, clattering around and dropping things, but by god if she didn't make the best chili in the state.
‟Dean. Dean!″ Cas' says, cutting through the haze of him basically staring off into nothing.
He jumps a little and then looks to Cas. ‟What?″
‟What the hell are you thinking about so hard?″
Dean raises a suggestive eyebrow at Cas who seems to get the message.
‟You're a bad person,″ he assures him, sweeping the last bits of debris into the dustpan, attempting to clean things up before the dinner rush.
Dean leans far over the counter and stage whispers, ‟You should probably do something about that.″
Cas saunters up to him, but instead of the kiss Dean was expecting, Cas smacks him on the forehead with the handle of the broom. ‟Ow!″ he screeches, drawing the laughter of Charlie and Shauna from the grocery section. Dean hears the bell above the door tinkle, but ignores it in order to grab Cas by the front of his scrubs and pulls him in for a kiss, nearly pulling him off his feet.
‟Shauna!″ a woman yells from the door, causing everyone to look up.
‟Mom!?″ Shauna says, dropping a loaf of bread back onto the cart.
Dean looks between the two, loosening his grip on Cas' shirt. The resemblance is obvious, from the long brown hair and dark eyes to the light sprinkling of freckles across their noses. Only the expressions are different. Where Shauna looks alarmed and perhaps a little scared, her mother is furious as she glares at Dean and Cas, clearly having seen them kissing, and then to Shauna with unguarded disgust on her face.
‟Shauna Maxine St. Clair! What are you doing here?″
Shauna unconsciously takes half a step back. ‟I...I was – just...″ she stutters, and then freezes as her mother strides forward and grabs her roughly by the arm. ‟Mom, I – I wasn't doing anything. I was just helping.″
‟Helping? Is that what that was?″ She looks around angrily at the other adults in the room and shouts, ‟Who owns this place?″
Stepping out from behind the counter, giving Shauna a look of 'it's okay' and stepping forward. ‟I'm the owner,″ he states.
‟And where the fuck do you get off letting an eleven year old work in your store. Do you pay her?″ She shakes Shauna by her arm which she is holding in a vice grip. ‟What else has he made you do?″
‟N-nothing. Nothing, Mom. I offered. I – ″
But she was cut off by another jerk of her arm. Dean felt more than saw Cas start forward, but Dean held out a hand, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Shauna's mom glared hard at Dean. ‟You stay away from my daughter, faggot, or I'll call the cops.″ She pulls Shauna toward the door, shouting, ‟You haven't heard the last of this goddammit.″
‟Ma'am,″ Dean starts, ‟if you could just lis – ″
‟Stay the fuck away from my daughter,″ she repeats. She pushes the door open.
‟Mom, please!″ Shauna says, unable to stop, not strong enough to fight against her mother's anger. ‟Dean!″ she shouts as she is manhandled across the street, tears bursting forth on her face.
Dean wants to run to her and hold her close, anything to make that desperate look in her eyes disappear, but he holds himself back. He knows he can't do anything. She's her mother. As much as it...
But he can't finish the thought. Instead he falters, falling back a step into Cas' shoulder. ‟Cas?″ he says, looking at him. ‟What do we...?″
Cas shakes his head and Dean looks to Charlie, but she's just standing there, hand over her mouth and tear stains on her cheeks, the stock forgotten behind her.
What can they do? he thinks, still in shock of what just happened. She's not... theirs, and isn't it fucked up how children can basically belong to someone as horrendous as that? Dean knows, of course, that Shauna had held back a lot of crap about her mother. She never says anything about the fact that the only dinner she usually gets is at the diner, though everybody knows. Never talks about how jumpy she is when someone yells or drops something, how she's always worried Dean will be angry with her when she messes something up. She mentioned once that the heating at her house is crap and she always wakes up cold in the winter, but that isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to a kid.
Dean takes a deep breath and returns behind the counter, suddenly holding in anger. ‟God fucking dammit,″ he mutters, throwing a paper towel from the counter into a trash can with more force than necessary. He sees Donna looking at him solemnly from the kitchen window, but she quickly focuses back on the grill.
It's nearly an hour later, while Dean is wandering around aimlessly cleaning and scrubbing tables, that he notices Shauna's pink and purple backpack sitting unobstructively next to the books. ‟Shit,″ he says, and picks it up.
Cas, who is slumped halfheartedly over the counter, looks up and swears as well. Shauna had just finished a particularly tough science assignment that was due the next day, and there didn't seem to be any hope of her coming to collect her things before school. Dean brings it up to the counter and unzips it carefully, looking for anything that would help them find where she lives.
He looks around the inside, and then thanks his lucky stars when he finds a little paper identification card with her name, address, phone number written in Shauna's neat cursive. He runs a finger across it, and looks to Cas. ‟It's not far,″ he says.
Cas looks conflicted. ‟What do we do, just knock on the door? The last thing Shauna's mom wants is to see us.″
‟Well, it's not about her, is it?″ Dean demands, but softens his words at Cas' look of warning. ‟She needs this. He mom should...understand.″
Dean takes off a couple hours early at seven, Charlie assuring him that she can handle the stragglers from dinner and that she won't let the place burn down in his absence. She says this with a pointed look in the direction of the kitchen, clearly indicating that if anything were to happen that it would probably be Donna's fault. She's the reason the fire department still gets free coffee whenever they come in.
He and Cas get into the Impala and head over to the address, and are unsurprised by the unkempt feel of the front lawn of Shauna's house. If she didn't care enough about her daughter, why would Shauna's mother care about the appearance of her house. Dean steadies himself as they walk up the front steps to the porch, prepares himself for another onslaught of yelling, and then knocks on the door.
Nothing happens.
He knocks again, but still there is no answer. He is about to call out when he hears a quiet, ‟Dean?″ from the side of the house. It's Shauna.
They scurry over to find her in her bedroom, window open and peering out through the screen.
‟Shauna,″ Cas whispers, and then asks, ‟Are you okay?″
She nods calmly, but Dean can't mistake the redness around her eyes, and she knows she's not fooling anybody. ‟What are you doing here? How did you find me?″
Dean holds up her backpack in response.
‟Oh,″ she says. ‟I forgot about that.″
‟Where's your mom?″ Dean inquires. ‟Should I talk to her. I can explain – ″
‟No!″ she says quietly, waving her hands. ‟She asleep right now and she'll get mad if I wake her up.″ He nods, so she says, ‟If I leave her alone for a while she might forget about it. Just... let her cool down for bit.″
‟Okay,″ Dean says, chest tight with everything he wants to say and do. Like hug her and tell her everything will be okay. He really hopes it will be. But there's nothing he can do to assure it. He holds up the backpack again and tells her he'll leave it on the front porch.
‟Thanks.″ She smiles and looks from him to Cas. ‟It's okay,″ she assures them. ‟She'll forget, she always does.″ She doesn't even sound sad when she says it, like it's just a fact of life.
Dean can feel his own tears begin to form. He knows what it's like to have to console someone older than him, his own father made sure of that when his parents divorced and John drank himself into an oblivion every night.
‟Okay,″ he agrees, trying to keep his voice steady. He raises a hand in goodbye and says, ‟Come by whenever you can.″
She nods and says bye to Cas, and they're walking away. Dean drops the bag onto the porch and makes it to the car before the liquid comes spilling out of his eyes. It's stupid, he knows. She's not even his kid, but he just feels so... responsible for her. And here he is, walking away and leaving her with that... woman. Who treats kids like that?
Cas' hand lands on his shoulder and he guides Dean around the car and into the passengers seat, saying something about driving them home. Dean relents.
When they arrive back at their house, as Cas is changing out of his scrubs and into sweatpants, Dean finally breaks.
‟Who does she think she is, treating her like that. And don't say 'she's her mother.' You and I both know that nobody deserves that.″
‟I wasn't going to,″ Cas says placatingly. Dean continues to vent.
‟And it's not just today. We're the only ones that feed Shauna when she's not at school. Well,″ he amends, ‟maybe not the only ones. Her mom feeds her sometimes, but not enough. I know what it looks like to be hungry.″
‟I know you do.″
‟And you know she's gonna have bruises on her arm later. She wasn't exactly being gentle.″ He kicks the leg of the coffee table, sending it screeching a few inches over. ‟I mean, what if she can't come over anymore?″ he asks Cas unevenly. ‟Isn't there anything we can do.″
Cas looks at him scrupulously from behind the sofa in the doorway to the dining room. ‟I don't know,″ he replies with a helpless shrug. ‟Short of calling child services, and I don't think we have much grounds to do so.″
Dean sighs and plonks down on the sofa.
The next day he goes back to work, but Shauna never shows up. Nor the next day or the rest of the week. He tries to ignore the concerned looks Charlie and Kevin keep throwing him, but they never bring up the obvious.
Dean's so worried he thinks he might puke, so next Monday, he takes his break and three o'clock and drives to Shauna's house. He doesn't get too close though, instead parking almost a block away and waiting for the bus to arrive. Shauna's mother is waiting outside on the porch in shorts and flip flops despite the bite of cold in the air, also noting the brown paper sack in her hand, which she sips at intermittently. When the bus pulls up, Shauna gets out and heads straight for the front door. He can't see that anything is wrong, and she seems in good health if only a little sad.
They disappear through the door and Dean leaves.
Live each day as if it were your last. Cause I'm gonna kill you, but I'm not super good with schedules.
- Joss Whedon