AN: Gah, sorry! I had it done, but it needed editing bad. I hope you'll forgive me! I hope you guys like this chapter; there's some more exposition, but you get some more insight on Castiel, which is fun. Vacation did a lot for ideas for both this, a oneshot (which will be posted with a couple hours), and another AU series which should be fun. Thanks to Laura for being an awesome Beta. Enjoy~

Strange

Somehow, they were late to church. Dean wasn't sure how they'd managed to do it, but they had. The two stragglers entered the church as quietly as possible, taking seats in the back pews and apologizing to the people already there for the disruption.

The cell phone's alarm had woken Dean up at six—in the morning! An ungodly hour that no living human should ever have to suffer! He had not even gone back to sleep; instead, he'd stayed up and actually put on a suit, because, dammit, he was going to look respectable! Yet somehow, somehow, the brothers ended up getting to church late.

The day was starting out with a bang.

The service couldn't have progressed any slower. Sam, a practiced church attendee, kept his head bowed, and repeated the prayers and hymns with ease. Dean, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable, awkward, and anxious. He stayed perfectly erect, head slowly rotating as his eyes searched the crowd for familiar faces—or, rather, familiar backs of heads. Sam elbowed him for this several times, especially when he was doing his Terminator-esque scan during prayer.

The older brother didn't stop, though; forty-five minutes into service, he finally caught sight of someone he knew. It was a Novak, alright—a much older Novak with broad shoulders and a suspiciously serene expression on his face. Even with just a quarter of his face shown, Dean could identify the man as Michael. He was unmistakable. The green eyes examined those seated on either side of the man, but Dean quickly became confused.

One, two… No, no. Wait. One, two…

Were there really only two of them here? The only person next to Michael that could possibly have been a Novak was definitely not Cas. The person's hair was a few shades lighter and much longer. Raphael? Gabriel? Their mother? It didn't matter. What mattered was that Castiel wasn't sitting with them. So then, where could he possibly be sitting?

When the closing prayers were said, an unintentionally loud sigh of relief came from Dean. Sam punched him in the shoulder, giving his brother an incredulous look. The only response he got, however, was a shrug before the green-eyed Winchester stood up, trying to peek over the crowd to catch sight of the Novak family.

They lingered at the back of the crowd, of course, conversing with the priests. Dean quickly realized that the person with Michael was, actually, Gabriel, and he couldn't help but wonder if the kid was still getting in trouble and pulling pranks.

Once the crowd had thinned, Dean pushed to the front of the church, his brother a few steps behind him. When the others were just a few feet away, Michael turned around, offering Dean a large smile. In all honesty, it was creepy; it was like he'd just felt the Winchesters approaching and knew they wanted to talk to him. Gabe noticed his brother's sudden change in attention and followed suit, eyebrows raising as he saw who it was.

"Well, look at that! Some wild Winchesters appear!" he said, his comment followed by a grin.

Gabriel had certainly grown up these last few years. He was taller, but still pretty short (at least, shorter than Dean), and his hair had grown out a lot more. The young man's chin was spotted with hair and there were small red dots, on his cheeks, probably shaving nicks. Golden eyes held a certain twinkle in them, as if mischievous plots were being hatched.

As the Winchesters and Novaks exchanged handshakes and smiles, Dean couldn't help but notice how much older Michael appeared. Looking at him now, he still felt like he was staring at a crooked car salesman or a sleazy lawyer, but it was much more refined. The older man was well-groomed and well-built. Pompousness saturated his stance, arrogance pouring off of him like cologne.

"It's wonderful to see you," Michael purred, looking at the two brothers before him. "What brings you back to Lawrence? I was under the impression that you weren't coming back."

Dean gave a thin-lipped smile, head tilting slightly. Maybe it was just because he had a natural distaste for the other, but he'd thought he had heard a malicious undertone in the words. Something that made it sound more like Michael was saying, "You're back?"

"Yeah. I convinced Dad to let me bring Sammy back home so he can finish up school here. I thought it'd be better for him than having us move around to different schools all the time," he replied smoothly, sounding rather matter-of-fact.

Michael smiled, nodding his head. "Oh! And how is John?"

The older Winchester raised his brows, a sneer curling his lips. As his mouth opened to answer, Sam shot him a look as if to say, "Remember: we're in a church." Before any words could leave Dean's mouth, the younger man said, "Oh, he's doing great. Lowson and Co. has been treating him well, but he's still moving a lot." He glanced up at his brother, eyebrows raising slightly.

"Oh, yeah. It's been great," Dean said with some obvious sarcasm. Clearing his throat, he went on to ask, "Anyway, where are the other two? Raphael and Cas still around?"

Sam could have sworn he caught something of panic in Gabriel's eyes. Everyone's gazes were on Michael, who did his best to hide any malicious feelings. The muscles in his cheeks twitched, his blue eyes narrowed, but the plastic smile stayed glued to his face.

"Raphael just started at John Hopkins University; he's studying to become a biomedical engineer," the snake-like man replied pleasantly. As he spoke of Cas, however, his voice strained slightly. "Castiel, however, has not attended a service in several years. He doesn't have time for anything like this."

Dean's eyebrows shot upward, surprise written all over his face. "He…He hasn't?" he asked, thinking he might have heard wrong. When Michael's head barely shook, the young man swallowed hard. "Well, hey, could you, uh, could you tell me where he lives? I was hoping to catch up."

Michael was silent. He licked his lips, cold eyes running over Dean. Gabriel still had a look of minor horror on his face, but he was now staring intently at the ground. Finally, the older Novak said, "Sure. Let me just write it down for you." With sharp movements, he removed a pen and small pad of paper from a pocket hidden inside his jacket. After harshly scribbling the address on the top sheet, he ripped it off, offering it between two fingers like a cigarette. "I'm sure he'll be so excited to see you."

Dean copied the irritated smile and took the paper with a muttered "thank you." After reading it a few times, he looked up at the three of them. "I think I'll go pay him a visit now. Sammy, you know the way home, right?" he said, clasping his brother on the shoulder.

The younger boy nodded. Dean gave Gabriel and Michael a nod in goodbye, then left without another word. Watching him walk away, Sam let out a soft sigh, shaking his head. "Sorry about him. He's been kind of stressed out and tired because of all the moving."

Michael nodded, but his eyes had not left Dean yet. Only when the Winchester was out of sight did the snake-like man direct his attention to Sam. He hummed slightly to acknowledge that he'd heard what the boy had said.

"I'm glad to have you back, Sam," he said. His smile had lightened slightly, faint on his lips. He clapped the boy on the shoulder, nodding. "Gabriel, I'll be at home. I need to do some studying and take care of Mother." Michael glanced at his long-haired brother, face blank. "Just… Don't get into trouble."

Sam watched him go, leaving the two high-schoolers alone in the church. Everyone had left except for a small handful. Sam and Gabe stood alone for a moment before the former broke the silence.

"Has Cas… really not been to church?" he questioned gently. Gabe let out a soft breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, he was pretty religious, right? Wasn't he thinking about priesthood?"

The golden-eyed boy nodded, glancing up at the other. "Yeah, he was. I don't know. After you guys hit the road…" he shrugged. "He just changed. He didn't want to go to church. He stopped trying in school. Started trying drugs." Gabriel glanced from side-to-side for a moment and then moved in. He reached up and grabbed the Winchester's neck, pulling him down so that Sam was hunched over rather uncomfortably. "He started having a lot of sex, too—with women," Gabe whispered, "To be honest, I always thought he played for the other team." He resumed his normal position, letting out a light laugh when he saw Sam's surprised face as he straightened. "What? Don't tell me you didn't see it?"

Sam just shook his head slightly. Of all the things that Gabe had just told him, that was the least surprising. "No, it's not that. It's just… all of that's pretty sad," he admitted softly, perturbed.

Gabriel shrugged, the smile falling from his face. "It was bound to happen eventually. Mom got worse, too, so I guess it all just sort of cultivated into one big shit-storm."

A moment of silence passed between them before Sam felt something buzzing in his pocket. He muttered an apology and pulled out the smart phone, looking at the few texts that were waiting for him. "Sorry, man. I gotta go. I'm meeting up with some friends up at the park," said the boy, looking up at the other. "I'll catch ya later."

Gabe nodded when a thought struck him, and he quickly asked, "Hey! You're going to be starting back at the high school, right? Sophomore? Junior?"

"Junior."

There was a look on the older boy's face that Sam couldn't quite place. "Sweet. Well, then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Sam nodded, offering a soft, appeasing smile. "Yeah. See y'round."

With their farewells expressed, Sam quickly left the church. Gabriel watched him only briefly before exiting the place himself. He'd rather spend as little time there as possible. Both boys, however, were thinking about the same thing: if Dean had made it to Castiel's apartment, how was that going?

Truthfully? Awkward.

It'd been rather easy to find the shady and nearly crumbling building. Dean knew Lawrence pretty well, even if he hadn't been there in a while. However, he still had to ask for a few directions, and if there was anywhere in the world that he didn't want to pull over and talk to strangers, it was here. It had to be the shadiest neighborhood in the whole city—maybe even in all of Kansas. The crime-rate was through the roof. Every building reeked of sex, drugs, and violence. Prostitutes walked freely through the streets, and whenever Dean stopped at a light, they'd ask him if he was looking for some company.

Could this really be where Cas lived?

Though he didn't feel comfortable parking his precious Impala on the street, there were no other options. He muttered something like a prayer beneath his breath, hoping that his baby wouldn't get broken into—or worse, stolen. He looked over the scrap of paper again, trying to make sure he was at the right place before he went inside. Sadly, he was.

He looked at the callbox for a moment, frowning, then pressed the button for apartment 26. Nothing happened, so he hit it again. Still nothing. One more time, again no response. A normal person probably would have turned around and high-tailed it out of there, but something told Dean that Cas was home, without a doubt. Still, the door wasn't about to open unless someone opened it for him.

He pressed the button for apartment 6, and waited. Finally, a young woman's voice came over the intercom. "Hello? Who is it?"

"Yeah, hi. I'm really sorry about this, but I live in apartment 26, and I just completely forgot my keys. Could you buzz me in?"

"Oh?" asked the other line, and then excitement tinged her voice. "You must be Cas' new roommate!"

Roommate? The green-eyed man chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. Cas and I just started rooming together. Think you could let me in?"

"Sure, sure! Just a second."

A few moments later, and Dean was inside. Well, that had been easier than he'd expected. Before he knew it, he was going up the stairs quickly, taking them two or three at a time. By the time that he'd reached the third floor, the man was out of breath, grabbing at a stitch in his side. Damn, he needed to get back into shape.

Apartment 26 wasn't far from the stairs. Dean approached it, then grimaced at the smells that were slipping out from beneath the door. His nose twitched as he pounded his fist on the door. Was that… was that pot?

It took several urgent knocks to finally get someone to answer the damn door. Dean was taken aback when a pretty young blonde answered it, clad only in tight shorts and a bra. Her hair was messy and uncombed. Her brown eyes were stained red, bloodshot and slightly terrifying. Nonetheless, they unabashedly ran down the green-eyed man's body, taking a moment to linger at his crotch.

"Well, hey there, sugar," she purred, leaning against the door. Her eyes had come back up from between his legs and now she was staring intently at his lips. "What brings a nice thing like you 'round here?"

Dean coughed into his hand, trying to keep his head straight. "I-I-I must have the wrong apartment," he said, chuckling awkwardly. "I'm looking for Castiel Novak."

She didn't look surprised, but a smile spread over her red-painted lips. "Well, you've come to the right place," she answered, her voice laced with seduction. "Cassy's in the kitchen cooking something up for us. Would you like to join?"

She didn't wait for his answer. Instead, she turned and made her way back inside. Her hips swung from side to side as she walked, and it was hard for Dean to keep his eyes from wandering south.

He came right inside, closing the door behind him. Immediately, he was choking on fumes of cigarette and marijuana smoke. The whole apartment had a fog settled in it, though it was still unable to conceal the mess of the place. There was just shit everywhere. Lots of clothes, it seemed, but for each item of clothing there was an empty bottle of alcohol. Some pill bottles were scattered here and there on the floor and, sure enough, there was a plate in the middle of the floor with a softly smoking joint on it.

His initial thought was, You've gotta be kidding me.

"Cassy! There's some handsome devil here to see you!" The blonde's voice rang through the air and he saw her making her way to what Dean guessed was the kitchen.

He followed slowly, wary of his surroundings. When he entered the kitchen, he thought he might have a fucking heart attack. There was another girl and this one clung to Castiel's hips. Her hair was dark and curly, swept back from her face which was buried in his neck. Cas hummed soft murmurs of pleasure, the girl able to distract him from the griddle for just a moment. He didn't let the pancake he was cooking burn, though, and it was soon on a plate, finishing a third short stack.

"Hey… Cas," Dean said slowly, surveying the kitchen.

Dirty dishes were everywhere. There was some kind of grime coating most of the surfaces and Dean felt gross just standing in there. Sure, he wasn't exactly a clean freak, but this? This was just nasty.

Castiel slowly turned his head toward the visitor. A wide, carefree grin came over his face. He reached up and stroked the dark-haired girl's hair, encouraging her to pull away. She quickly stole a rough kiss, peeling back with a chuckle. He was dressed just as sparsely as the girls; all he wore was a thin pair of boxers. From what the visitor could see, there were bruises coating the blue-eyed man's sides and barely visible red lines ran down his chest and back.

He had a few more adornments to his body, too. The serpents still wound up his right arm, though Dean could now see their open, razor-toothed mouths. Two black wings had been inked to span the entirety of his back, the tips reaching down to Cas' abnormally thin hips. The design was incredibly detailed, every feather meticulously sculpted. His eyes couldn't help falling just between the young man's hips, where a tiny ball of metal glimmered against his skin on either side.

"Why don't you two grab your pancakes and head into the bedroom?" Cas asked, turning to look at the two women, "I'll come in a minute."

A huge smirk covered the dark-haired girl's face, and she leaned into his ear. "Well, let's hope it takes you longer than a minute," she purred.

That only broadened Cas' grin and made Dean feel increasingly uncomfortable. The girl (who only slightly more clothed than the blonde) grabbed two plates of pancakes and silverware before exiting the kitchen with the blonde. Her eyes wandered much like the one who'd answered the door, going up and down her body. In any other situation, Dean might have been turned on. But right now, he was in the apartment of a guy who used to be a saint, practically an angel, and that made everything awkward.

"Dean, it's so good to see you," Castiel slurred out. He grabbed the other plate, not bothering with silverware. His fingers pulled off a piece of the pancake, and Dean could've sworn he'd seen flecks of green in them. "Want some?"

The short-haired man was quick to reject the offer, pretty confident they were potcakes. He looked around a bit more, though, as if verifying that what he's seeing was real. "Where were you this morning?" he finally asks. "I thought you said you were going to church."

Cas snorted out a high-pitched giggle, and it caused Dean's hair to stand on end. "You didn't catch my sarcasm, Dean. Then you ran out so fast that I didn't have a chance to clarify," he smiled. He stuffed a piece of the drug-laced breakfast into his mouth, grimacing at the taste but swallowing nonetheless. "I don't go to church anymore, Dean."

Hearing those words from Cas makes the Winchester's skin crawl. "Why? When'd you stop? I mean, you used to be pretty religious, so it's kinda weird to see someone like you just stop going."

"After you left, I never went to church again," the blue-eyed man nonchalantly answered. Another piece of the pancake was shoved into Cas' mouth, muffling his voice as he spoke. "I though' 'ou'd be p'oud o' me. 'ou neva belie'e' in tha' crap."

"W-well I… I guess I don't," the visitor answered, speaking more softly now. Silence ensued for a moment, and something urged Dean to start asking questions. There was part of him that didn't want his former best friend to head back to the bedroom with the girls ("sluts" was probably a more appropriate term). "Who are those girls?"

Shrugging, Castiel couldn't help but release some light chuckles. He swallowed before answering this time, saying, "The dark-haired girl is Meg. She comes by a few times a month. The blonde… Well, I really don't know. I don't even have the faintest clue."

Dean gave a half-smile to appease the shaggy-haired young man. There's a certain sadness in his gaze as he looked at the being in front of him. Every now and then, Cas would start to giggle for no reason. The taller man became thankful that he'd never really delved into drugs. Every few seconds, the Novak would start to laugh, but only in short bursts. He never laughed for too long.

He managed to calm himself down a little, at least enough to question, "How'd you get my address, anyway?"

Calloused fingers rubbed the back of his neck. "Your brother," Dean answered simply.

Joy flowed over Cas' face and he takes a few steps forward, nearly dropping his dish. "Gabriel? Was it Gabriel? He's my favorite, you know. How is he? Is he still getting into trouble at school? I'm sure he is. He's always been such a trickster, that kid."

Dean shrugged slightly, replying, "Sorta. I mean, he was there, but, uh, no. It was Michael, actually."

The high man's face fell slightly, but he looked only slightly disconcerted. "Oh. I don't like him," he simply said. With that, another handful of pancake was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth. He giggled as he chewed, shaking his head. "You shoul' reawy try one. Der di'gu'ting, but 'o awe'ome."

The short-haired brunette shook his head once more. "Nah, I'm good," he said, giving a thin-lipped smile. "Well, uh, look. I should probably go. You seem pretty busy, and I don't wanna… interrupt anything."

Castiel quickly shook his head. He put his plate down, not caring for the broken bits of his breakfast that rolled onto the muck-coated counter. "No, no, no! No, man, you should stay! Don't leave. Just stay for a little while."

There was some kind of concealed urgency in his voice, some slight panic in his eye that Dean was just able to catch. Then again, maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe this was just Cas wanting to hang out. After all, weed was supposed to keep a person pretty stable and content, right?

"I-I shouldn't," he replied, one side of his lips crinkling up.

The blue-eyed man's eyebrows twitched slightly, lips pulling tight into an almost-frown. "Well, can we at least hang out? We could get dinner, or something! It'll be just like old times—except with more booze."

For a moment, Dean swore he could see something of his old friend in this tattooed stranger that stank of drugs. If he could get past the bloodshot eyes and the stench of marijuana, he could almost see the big-eyed, naïve, optimistic kid he used to know. He could hear the soft strains of hope in Cas' voice. He noticed how the man's eyebrows raised, and his mouth stayed just slightly parted, waiting for an answer.

And he couldn't say no.

"Yeah," he replied, nodding. "Why don't I… Why don't I come pick you up at six and you can come by and see the place?"

Castiel had a huge grin on his face, and it shoved a dagger in Dean's heart.

"Okay. I'll be here. I'll be ready," he said, nodding. He heard the girls calling to him from the bedroom. When he looked towards where their voices come from, however, disinterest was nestled on his face.

"Alright, well, I'll let you, Meg, and Blondie enjoy your, uh… breakfast. I'll be back in a couple hours to pick you up. Okay?"

He watched as Cas gave an enthusiastic nod. Dean returned it, though more subtly, then said a quick goodbye before leaving the apartment. He walked quickly down the stairs, and it didn't strike him until he's sitting in the forty-year-old Impala that he had never asked about the "new roommate" thing. Well, not like it mattered.

Dean sat for several minutes in the silent car. His hands gripped the steering wheel, but the engine was off. Moss-colored eyes stared straight ahead, blank, no emotion registering in them as he tried to figure what it is exactly that he was feeling.

After you left, I never went to church again.

The words rang in his head. He couldn't help but feel that that was his fault. Hell, he'd be a fool to try and say it wasn't. But there were other factors, too… Right? There was Cas's dad, his mom, the kids at school. He wasn't the sole reason that his best friend had stopped attending church. Just like he couldn't be the sole reason that Cas turned into…that.

He pushed it back. Maybe Cas would act a little more normal when he came over later. Not allowing any more thought on the matter, he pushed the key in the ignition, the initial roar of the car sending a strangely soothing sensation through him. He drove home with the music blaring more loudly than usual.

He didn't understand why he'd gone to Cas' place. Just yesterday, he had been determined to do everything possible to avoid him. Perhaps that was because he thought that his old friend would have acted so much differently. Like Sam, Dean had also expected the crying-and-punching reaction, but what he'd gotten was a polite—albeit stoned—guy who was civil and apparently really wanted to see him.

It made Dean think that maybe things could go back to normal. Maybe they could be friends again and pretend he'd never left.

The image of the thin man he'd seen in that apartment flashed through the Winchester's brain.

But he'd changed so much since they'd last seen one another. Castiel was nothing like the friend Dean'd had so many years ago. It was like some kind of evil, opposite twin in there, one that sometimes shared quirks and facial expressions with the real thing.

There was just no way that that was really his best friend.