Chapter 7
He Dreams Of Flying
Okay guys. It's late and I edited this inbetween playing Cards Against Humanity with some people I barely know on the internet. It was very fun. So, basically, don't get on me for mistakes I have to live my life XD. Enjoy~
Castiel ran out of his house, the sound of the horn reminding him that he was keeping Dean waiting.
He ran out the front door happily, the money in his pocket. He brought a little extra just in case Dean had brought Sammy, even though he highly doubted it. Dean tended to like their time alone to be their time alone. He straightened up a little as he walked up to the impala, wanting to look just a little bit taller. Dean had him by about three inches, but Castiel could make himself look tall when he wanted to.
He climbed in the passenger seat, leaning over to give Dean a kiss on the cheek. Instead of the usual chuckle, the contact was met with a pained hiss. Castiel pulled back with his head slightly cocking to the left in curiosity, eyes searching for an explanation. It didn't take very long to find it.
All along Dean's jaw were splotches of black, yellow, purple, and even blue. He let out a gasp as soon as he saw it, curiosity turning to guilt as he realized that he had touched the obviously tender area.
"I'm so sorry! What happened?" Castiel asked immediately. He was filled with concern for Dean; he didn't know what had happened, but it looked dangerous. Dean simply smiled though, and his eyes shone with a kind of pride that Castiel hadn't seen in them before.
"My dad punched me in the face." He chuckled, his grin stretching even wider. He lazily let his head fall over to look at Castiel, and the sun through the windshield shone on his face. Castiel thought that he'd never looked more like an angel, but the words alarmed him to no end. Dean's father, the one who killed or captured people for a living, had punched him in the face?
"What? Why would he-?" Castiel started to ask, but he lost his voice. Dean closed his eyes and sighed, turning his head back away from Castiel and leaning it back on the seat, relax evident on his features. He was obviously not concerned by this turn of events.
"Because I grew a pair of balls, that's why." Dean answered. Castiel stayed silent, waiting for Dean to elaborate. Dean eventually took the hint and he started up the car as he began to speak. "He tried to move us again, and I stood up for myself. He got angry and punched me in the face. Bobby was there and saw the whole thing. He said if he didn't want to let us stay with him that he could tell children services about this little episode and we'd be gone for good. My dad was cornered into it, and Bobby found an old house a little outside of town that we're moving into. We did it, Cas." He said, looking down. His eyes shone like he was fightingback tears, and Castiel felt a mixture of happiness and disbelief coming up inside him.
"I don't have to leave you now."
Dean had done that for him. Dean had taken a punch, stood up to his father, and did what was right, all for him. Castiel, for once in his life, didn't have to lose everything again. Dean was his and he was Dean's, and they were staying together now, no matter what.
He grabbed Dean's coat and pulled him in close, pressing their lips together heatedly. Dean froze for a moment, eyes widening before they slowly began to close, Castiel's lips sending waves of electricity trough him. He leaned towards his lover as Castiel's nimble fingers knotted in his hair, and he forgot everything that wasn't Castiel. He leaned over slowly, placing his hand on Cas's hip as the intensity of the kiss increased. He felt his side bump something, but he was too consumed with Cas's lips working against his to really care. That is, until they started moving backwards.
Dean jerked his body away from Cas, shock and panic filling him up. He slammed his foot on the break and they stopped rolling, the car jerking the slightest bit as they stopped. It took Dean a moment to realize that he had accidentally hit the handle to take the car out of park. Castiel came to this realization at the same time, an they both looked at each other's shocked and bewildered faces.
Suddenly, laughter filled the car. The relief and joy and beauty of the moment was not something one could easily forget. Sides were gripped as they were doubled over with joy, and Dean fumbled through the fit to try and put the car back into break. They laughed like they were alone and nobody was watching; they laughed like this was their last chance in the world to.
When they finally stopped laughing, the noise dying down to small chuckles as they caught their breath, the silence was comfortable and lighthearted.
"So," Dean said, still smirking just a bit, "Do you mind if we go ahead and do something after the iced cream?"
Later, Castiel found out that the "something" involved a lot of lifting heavy things.
Dean rolled up to the house he now shared with Bobby, Castiel in the seat besides him. He explained to Castiel on the way that Bobby had requested to meet him over dinner tonight, and Castiel had eagerly obliged. He ran back home and even changed into a nicer shirt, a dark blue button-down that he had acquired for freshman graduation a couple years back. He was nervous about meeting somebody so important to Dean, but he knew that he had nothing to worry about. Dean and him were already a thing, if they didn't like him, Dean wouldn't care. Cas really had nothing to lose.
When they'd arrived though, Castiel had found that Sam and a large man dressed in flannel were busy unpacking boxes from a large truck. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the truck was already halfway empty, but the boxes were large and heavy. He saw Sam struggling and have a small frown.
"Is that Bobby?" He asked, pointing to the man.
"Yeah." Dean said, nodding his head in affirmation. "Gimme a second, let me go see what the down low is." He said. Castiel nodded.
Dean got out of the car and stepped into the blooming afternoon heat. It was two o'clock (he and Castiel might have stayed at the iced cream place a little longer than necessary kissing in the corner booth) and the sun was blazing down as hot as it would be for the day, but the light wind kept it more pleasant than anything.
Castiel watched as he walked up to Bobby, hugging the man before pulling away quickly and talking to him rapidly. After about thirty seconds of Bobby talking, Dean nodded his head and turned around to head back towards Castiel. His lips were pursed as if he had eaten something sour, and Castiel was worried that he had bad news.
"What's the face for?" Castiel teased as Dean climbed into the car.
"Well, apparently they weren't expecting us for a few hours, so they're not done with the truck yet and Bobby needs to go start dinner. Sam needs help with all those boxes, so..." Dean said, trailing off.
"Do you want me to help?" Castiel offered, gesturing. Dean shook his head no automatically, not wanting to ask that of his boyfriend. Castiel rolled his eyes, knowing that Dean was only trying to be polite. "Come on, I want to help." He coaxed.
Hesitation flickered in Dean's eyes, and he paused, thinking. Finally, he made up his mind, and Castiel smirked, knowing what he was going to say.
"Okay, but on one condition." Dean said, holding up a finger. Castiel nodded his head, encouraging Dean to continue. "You're not leaving your wings in your shirt."
"What do you mean?" Castiel asked, dead panning. Dean simply smiled and turned away from the car, waving his hand to signal to Castiel that he should follow. Castiel had no other option but to do so.
They climbed up the stairs, passing Bobby's kitchen and about a million half empty or entirely full boxes scattered around, along with a couch and a couple of homey rugs. Dean lead him up the stairs, ignoring the remaking of protest from the aged wood. They passed a couple of closed doors, down a narrow hallway, and finally Dean stopped in front of a large and ornately carved door. He swung it open slowly, letting Castiel take in the cracked and faded wallpaper for a moment before revealing a wall full of rock band posters, the corners either worn or torn from being removed and replaced over and over again. Castiel felt a pang when he thought of all the houses that they have seen, all of the times Dean has hurriedly torn them from the walls to flee to a new location.
He stepped into the room, ignoring the slightly cooler temperature in favor of feeling his curiosity peak. Dean walked over to the dresser with no explanation and began rummaging through, and Castiel felt like he was going to explode if he didn't get an explanation. He stood there quietly though, knowing that Dean wouldn't give him an answer anyways if he were to try and ask for one. He scanned Dean's room in the mean time, trying to pick up on the little things.
There were a couple of old comic books, their projector sat proudly in a corner on top of an old chair that looked like it had probably come with the place. He noticed at least three guns and a couple of knives, wooden and wicked-looking. These were clearly not the kind of knives you would find at your average convenience store; pocket knives dulled in comparison to the sharply curved blades that glistened with fresh polishing. Castiel moved on, shoving the weapons to the back of his mind as he noticed a very old sketch book, the pages wrinkly and yellow, but also stained with an odd grey sort of color, like it had been dropped in too much dust.
Finally, Dean found what he was looking for, and he called out, "Bingo."
Castiel's head snapped up, his eyes training in on the raggedy article of clothing that Dean was holding up. Dean had a smile on his face as he tossed one of the old shirts to Castiel, keeping the other one in his own hands. Castiel stared blankly at the article of clothing for a moment.
"You wanted me to change my wardrobe?" He asked with a frown. Dean shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips.
"You know how I said that when I was little my mom used to cut holes in some of my shirts to make sure that I was comfortable? Well, I carried on the tradition, and there you are." Dean announced, looking at the shirt. He soon began to strip off his own, and Castiel turned his head and averted his eyes, offering Dean a little bit of privacy. He knew that the same courtesy would be returned to him.
"What if somebody driving by sees us?" Castiel said worriedly, and he was met with a snort. Dean was shaking his head as if Castiel was foolish.
"They're not gonna say anything about it. They'll just think we're furries." Dean compromised. Castiel looked back at him to see his wings spread out proudly behind him, the black shirt that he had chosen clinging to his form. Castiel fought the impulse to stare an looked away quickly, blushing.
"I'm not sure what that is. I've not had my wings free except to shower for years. I'm used to the discomfort by now, it'll be fine." Castiel argued, crossing his arms over his chest. Dean rolled his eyes at the display, not giving away the fact that he thought it was adorable.
"Well you've seen mine, it's only fair that I see yours." Dean said, smirking. Castiel felt blood rush to his face, but he managed to keep his expression fairly neutral, reminding himself that Dean was always a pervert and he would have to get used to it sometime.
"And Bobby?" He questioned. He just wanted to make sure.
"Knows about you because I told him the truth when he asked why I lo-" dean stuttered a second before clearing his throat. "Like you so much." He covered up, smiling sheepishly. The mistake did not go unnoticed by Castiel, who felt a thrill go through him at the mention. Did Dean... Had Dean almost said that he loved him?
He shook his head to clear it, but he couldn't help the smile stretching itself across his face, and the blush returning, with more of a pleasant feeling of warmth this time.
"Okay, fine." He said reluctantly. His hands hesitated at the bottom of his short and he but his lip. Dean's eyes were still glued to his own, and he knew that he would feel uncomfortable changing like that. They didn't have time to work out the couple of minutes of awkward it was going to cause, Sam needed help. "Well, give me some privacy." He complained.
Dean rolled his eyes but did as he was asked, turning around and putting his hands up in the air like he had just been caught. Castiel slowly unbuttoned his shirt, knowing that if he went too fast he was going to mess up and take even longer. Finally, the top button was undone, and he let it fall to the floor, immediately replacing it with the white shirt that Dean had supplied him with. He looked down at his chest to see a band logo; which band, of course, he hadn't a clue.
He experimentally shifted his muscles, groaning when he felt his wings stretch and grow in size, the feathers spreading. He was grateful that he had taken a shower and preened his wings this morning; he knew at the very least that they were clean. He enjoyed the feeling of being free for a moment before putting his wings down again, but still not as confined as before. They were half folded out in a position that he found quite comfortable, and he gave a pleasant sigh.
He looked over to see Dean looking appreciatively at him, his eyes glazed over in emotion. He felt himself freeze on the spot, and he felt a blush creep up on his face as Dean's eyes wandered over him, and he smiled just the slightest bit.
"You're so beautiful, Cas." Dean said. He bridged the gap between them, putting his hands firmly on Castiel's hips and looking deeply into his eyes. Castiel felt tense, a good kind of tension, as if he was holding himself back. He knew that Dean could feel it to, a sort of undertone of want that they had for each other. He felt his wings stretch out behind him further, his feathers puffing up, and Dean's wings did the same. It was like an odd display of a mixture of intimacy and co-dominance; they were both strong and capable, and this was sort of an odd way of showing it to each other.
There was a loud noise from downstairs, and the eye contact dropped. Castiel breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension drain. He lifted his eyes ever so slightly to look at Dean and smiled again.
"Okay, we should go and help Sammy now." Dean said reluctantly, looking at the door with distaste. Castiel laughed a little, smiling himself.
"We should. Your brother is going to think we're making out up here." Castiel confirmed, blushing a bit. Dean smirked but decided (for once) not to comment and he led the way, walking out the door and clomping down the stairs. Castiel followed quietly behind him, lifting his wings just a bit to avoid them touching the walls.
They walked outside and Castiel grabbed the first box he saw, not seeing a point in being picky about it. They all had to get moved anyways.
He lifted and lifted, walking and re-walking the path to the dining room table over and over again, the repetitive motions calming him and allowing him to not really focus on his actions. The breeze tickled his feathers and his muscles burned as he worked, Dean occasionally making funny comments or reaching out to ruffle his now sweaty hair, seeming to not care that Castiel probably looked like crap right then. Dean though-Castiel quite liked the "just worked out" look on Dean. He was constantly averting his eyes.
Eventually, Castiel walked back to the truck to find that it was entirely empty of boxes, the hollow insides earning a feeling of satisfaction from him. Dean arrived by his side seconds later and appreciated the sight with him, nodding his head just a bit in approval.
"Hey, Bobby says that dinner's ready. We should go inside and eat." Dean said, looking away from the truck and towards Castiel. Cas felt a little bit of anxiety begin to creep up in him, but he shoved it down to the best of his ability. He nodded his head and turned to look Dean in the eyes for a few seconds.
He was trying to decide whether or not it was a good idea to abandon reserve an kiss him now when Sammy ran out, and Dean's head whipped around towards him. The moment was ruined, and Castiel frowned a bit.
"Bobby said to come and make sure you two weren't making out. Actually, he frazed it, "Make sure those idjits aren't wasting time sucking each other's faces", but I figured the first was more polite." Sam said. Dean laughed, and Castiel was suddenly happy that he hasn't gone in for the kiss.
Dean grabbed his hand after that and began to lead him inside, thoughts of a nice, big dinner in mind. Then, maybe some pie for desert, if he was lucky.
"Come on you idjits, the food's gonna get cold. Was I right, Sam?" Bobby demanded, plopping down a large plate of mashed potatoes down on a large fold-out table that was just big enough for four people. Dean and Sam sat on either end of the table, and Castiel sat between them, meaning that he was across from Bobby.
The man plopped a bucket of fried chicken on the table, and Dean grinned like a child on Christmas morning.
"You know, this is my first family dinner in awhile." He declared, reaching forward to grab a huge piece of chicken off of the top. Castiel felt a little surge of pride go through him; Dean had just referred to him as family.
"At least wait until I get the plates." Bobby scolded, smacking Dean's hand. Dean's arms jerked in tension and he almost dropped his chicken, just barely managing to keep his hold on it. He looked up at Bobby and gave him the most sinister glare he could muster up, almost like he was trying to convey that plates were entirely unnecessary and Bobby's reaction was unorthodox. Which was, of course, exactly what he was trying to convey. Dean can say a lot with a look.
"So, do you do this kind of thing often?" Bobby asked Castiel, narrowing his eyes. Castiel didn't want to give the wrong answer, (and he knew that his probably was) but decided that honesty was the best policy. He didn't want to be accepted if it wasn't for who he really was, flaws and all.
"Well, not really. I've had a couple of thanksgiving dinners with my grandparents." He admitted sheepishly. Bobby nodded his head, grabbing a large package of paper plates from the cabinet. Castiel watched as a paper plate was set in front of him, then Sam, and then Dean, before finally a fourth one was dropped in front of Bobby's plate. After that, they tore in. They each grabbed what they wanted of everything, before sitting back and exchanging polite dinner conversation. Castiel found out that Bobby had been having Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas dinner for the boys the past three years behind their father's back, and that he had vowed to himself before Dean stood up that they weren't going to move again, anyways. Castiel had told him about his reading habits (kicking Dean under the table when he mumbled "nerd" under his breath) and his love for organic fruits. Dean told Castiel embarrassing stories about him and Sam from when they were younger- (the time Sam had tried to speak to a girl and actually got so nervous he accidentally asked her out in Latin was one of Castiel's favorites so far) and at the end of it all, his sides hurt from laughing so much and his stomach was satisfyingly full. He let out a stretch as Sam volunteered to get the plates, and he watched as his was cleared. He nodded his thanks to Sam and stood up, pushing his chair in.
"Your wings are an odd color of blue. They're nice. Dean's wings just make him look like a demon." Sam commented, shooting a look of superiority at him. Dean rolled his eyes and grumbled something about him being stupid and jealous, and Castiel could see that he needed cheering up on the subject.
"I think Dean's wings are..." He searched for the right adjective in his mind, not wanting to embarrass Dean or himself in front of Dean's family.
"Sexy?" Dean suggested with a wink. Castiel gave a small amused smile, nodding his head just the slightest bit.
"Something like that." He agreed. Their eyes met and a lopsided grin appeared on Dean's features. Castiel couldn't help but return it, Dean's sparkling green eyes making him happy no matter what the situation.
Bobby cleared his throat loudly, causing both of them to snap their heads towards them and breaking off the moment. He chuckled a bit.
"Do you want to stay and watch a movie? We have an extra bedroom upstairs with a blow up mattress in case it gets too late." Bobby offered. Castiel nodded his head eagerly without hesitation, always ready to spend more time with Dean. He smiled widely when Dean stood up and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him just a bit before letting his hand slide across Castiel's back, walking away and stopping in the doorway to turn his head and raise his eyebrow as if to say, "Are you coming yet?" That was when Castiel realized that his mouth was open just the slightest bit and he was staring after Dean like a dumbfounded child. He shook his head to clear it before walking across the kitchen in just a few short steps to join Dean at the doorway.
Dean grabbed Castiel's hand, not caring that Bobby was right behind them, his eyes trained on their every move.
"You got it bad, son." He mumbled quietly. Sam snorted beside him before following Cas and Dean into the next room.
"Don't worry!" He proclaimed loudly, "I'll make sure they don't go make out again."
Dean pulled Castiel with him down onto the small couch, wrapping an arm securely around Cas's shoulders and bringing him close. Castiel blushed a little when Bobby came in and sat on a second couch next to Sam, who was currently leading through Netflix titles with the remote in his hand. Dean occasionally commented on what he thought they should watch, and it settled on some sort of a cliché romantic comedy type thing. Castiel found it to be entertaining though, and it held his interest the whole way through.
Finally, the credits rolled. He was still snuggled up to Dean, and about halfway through the movie Dean's wing had casually fallen over his shoulder, his black feathers caressing the bare skin of Castiel's arms.
Sam yawned beside them and Bobby checked his watch, finding that it was much too late for Castiel to be there without just staying over.
"So, do you think your dad is going to mind if you went ahead and stayed over tonight?" Bobby asked. Castiel opened his mouth to respond, but Dean snorted beside him before cutting through the silence himself.
"Castiel's dad hardly even notices he's there. He's been out all night several times and his old man's not noticed." Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. Castiel paused a moment before shrugging and nodding his head, knowing that it would be useless to try and defend his dad at this point.
"Well, is that so?" Bobby asked disapprovingly. There was a small pause and then Bobby shifted so that he was leaning towards Castiel, and his eyes looked serious. "You know, if he's really that bad of a parent, there'll always be room for you here at this house."
Castiel gave a sigh, feeling the tension release from his body. He felt so wary for so long about the lack of care he had received, and here was this man whom he had barely met offering to take him in. He felt relieved and excited and loved. It was like Christmas.
"I-I would love that." Castiel said genuinely.
"Well, if you can get him to sign over custody, we can work something out. Or if he refuses, you could always go to Children Services." Bobby announced, leaning back again. The seriousness in the air went away a little bit, leaving Castiel to his thoughts. He nodded his head curtly, deciding that speaking just felt wrong in this situation.
He was thinking over everything. What would he do? Would he be able to get his father to sign over custody? The questions swirled around in his mind like a whirlpool, and he seemed caught up in the flow.
Dean lightly nudged him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He smiled a little, glancing up to look at bright green eyes. "Having you here would be so much fun." He agreed, nodding his dad a bit. Castiel smiled broadly as they shared a small moment, both of them thinking about what it would be like to be able to spend time outside of school together all the time.
"You two would be put on separate floors." Bobby said flatly. "We don't need Sam walking in on a make out session and getting scarred for life." He mumbled. "That goes for tonight, too."
"Really?" Dean complained. Castiel shrugged his shoulders. Bobby nodded his head in confirmation and Dean groaned, leaning back on the couch.
"Okay, now let's get Castiel onto the air mattress. We don't have the spare bed set up yet in the bedroom, so that'll have to do for tonight." He said, standing up. Castiel and Dean followed, both standing in unison and walking down the hallway.
Bobby told them to go and "do whatever it is you high schoolers do" while he got everything set up. Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and led him back to his room where he proceeded to shove him against a wall, both of their wings stretched all the way out, and kissed him senseless. Their lips moved together as Dean's body pressed up against Castiel's, all passion and love mixed in with the danger of Bobby coming upstairs at any moment. Castiel's hands reached up to desperately knot his fingers through Dean's hair, while Dean's hands reached up to (surprisingly gently) stroke Castiel's feathers, causing a shiver to rake itself up his spine.
There was a pounding of footsteps against the floor and Dean broke away, putting his hands firmly at his sides. Castiel's fingers untangled themselves from Dean's hair as he stepped off of the wall, clearing his throat awkwardly.
Bobby's head popped in the door, and he made a gesture for Castiel to follow. Castiel and Dean shared a small smile before Cas walked forward, following Bobby back down the hallway and to the guest room.
It was a high-ceilinged room with a large, ornate window on one side. Castiel could see the stars and the moon out of it, twinkling up in the sky like that was their sole purpose. Castiel briefly wondered if that really was their sole purpose.
The inflatable mattress was thick and looked comfortable, as it was stacked up with a couple of comforters and four different pillows. Bobby nodded towards it quietly, and Castiel walked over and sat down. The room was a little small, but it was just right for him.
"Dean's really got it bad for you." Bobby said after a moment of silence. Castiel felt his face heat up as a pleasant hum of satisfaction went through his body.
"I-I've got it pretty bad for him, too." Castiel admitted sheepishly, averting his eyes. He looked instead of at Bobby towards the hardwood floors, wondering when the last time they had been varnished was.
"Well, I don't think you quite get how big a deal that is for Dean." Bobby said, taking a step into the room. Castiel hesitated, not sure what to make of the statement.
"What do you mean by that?" He finally asked, deciding that it was best to just get it out of the way. It would kill him thinking about it if he didn't just ask now. Bobby paused for a little while, thinking about how to word things.
"I mean, you better be willing for this to be a serious thing. I have a feeling you two are gonna be together for quite some time." He said. Castiel felt hope rise within him, and he nodded his head tightly. Bobby remained silent for a couple of minutes before he finished up with, "I'm gonna go get some sleep now. Goodnight." He said, walking out.
He shut the door behind him, leaving Castiel in darkness except for the moonlight shining through the window.
He turned over onto his stomach and grabbed one of the free pillows, clutching it to his body.
Fifteen minutes later, the wood creaked as somebody lightly stepped across it. Castiel's head whipped around to zero in on his door, hearing the footsteps come ever closer.
The door slowly opened, and Castiel felt fear rising in his stomach.
"Cas?" Tentatively came trough the door. He sighed in relief, rolling his eyes a bit.
"Yes, Dean?" He said quietly, not wanting Bobby to overhear. Dean stepped entirely into the room, smiling sheepishly as he walked up to Castiel.
Dean simply lifted the covers and quietly slipped in between them. Castiel felt Dean's arm wrap around his torso and bring him closer, and he shivered from the welcome heat.
"You don't really think he expected us to stay separated, do you?" Dean asked playfully, grabbing one of the spare pillows. Castiel watched as Dean lay down beside him, his eyes trained on the moon out the window. Both of them were laying on their stomachs, and Dean's wins came out to wrap firmly around Castiel's body along with his arm. Castiel let his wings stretch out as far as they could, shivering when his feathers brushed up against Dean's.
"Goodnight, Dean." He whispered, too tired to try and stay awake and talk. Dean nodded his head and closed his eyes too, and together they let sleep overcome them.
"What are you two doing in here?" Was the yell that they woke up to.
Time flies by faster and faster when you're happy with where you are in life, something that Castiel was quickly realizing. The week it took to figure out how to get the custody change papers had felt like merely days, days which he spent packing up his unimpressive amount of things into seven boxes.
He even had his mother's old leather journal sitting on the top of one of them. He didn't want to pack it, but he didn't want to have to lose it just yet.
He strode into the kitchen the morning after he got the papers, determination burning in his eyes and in the pit of his stomach. He made a choice here: whether or not he was going to allow his drunken father drag him down for another three years.
So, he walked up confidently and slammed the papers on the counter, passion burning in his eyes.
His father's eyes shifted down to the neatly folded stack and he raised an eyebrow.
"What is this?" He asked, placing a hand on it. He flinched at the noise as the paper crinckled just the slightest bit, giving away that he was both sober and hung over. Good, Castiel could use the headache to his advantage.
"Change of custody papers." Castiel said bravely. He watched as his father's expression remained calm, but there was something else in his eyes. 'Well, at least he's not angry.' Thought Castiel.
"What, do you want to go live with your grandparents now?" He asked, his brow furrowing. Castiel shook his head.
"No, there's a man named Bobby Singer that would be much better equipped to take care of me." Castiel said, his lips forming a hard line. His father looked up slowly, and a strange sadness shone in his eyes.
"This is about that boy, isn't it?" He asked. He didn't sound angry or upset, just like he'd probably known for awhile now and couldn't find the right time to say anything. Castiel felt the blood rush to his face and he knew he was given away.
"His name is Dean." He said simply, but then he realized how stupid that sounded. He shook his head, adding, "But no, he's not the only reason." He said, looking up towards his father.
"I love you, you know I do. I'm sorry I've not been the best dad that I could be, I really am. I know it's too late to change that now, but I want you to know that." His dad said. He looked like his teeth were gritted. "And as long as this 'Dean' character treats you right, I'm okay with him." He said. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes tightly. "But if I sign these papers- because I love you enough to know I'm not gonna stop drinking permanently, as much as I may last a few days- you have to promise me every other weekend you'll come and stay until you're eighteen." He said. Castiel nodded, and his father's eyes opened to meet his. He didn't need to see the nod, he knew that Castiel would be on board before he said it.
He wanted what was best for his son, but he didn't want to lose him.
"Thank you, dad." Castiel whispered. His dad grabbed the pen they kept on the window sill and uncapped it quickly, trying to control his tears as the pen greeted the paper.
Castiel's father capped the pen back and handed it to Castiel, looking his son dead in the eyes. "Be good." He said.
Castiel nodded his head. "Dean will be here in about an hour to get my things. Until then..." He said, his eyes scanning the kitchen before coming to rest on some old playing cards. "Do you want to play go fish?"
Castiel's father smiled.
Dean showed up ten minutes early, right as Castiel won his third game in a row. His father snorted out "cheater" and Castiel's eyes lit up as he heard the purr of the engine cut off in his driveway.
He jumped up from the table quickly, walking out through the living room and answering the door with a big grin on his face. Dean stood proudly on the other side, hands in his pocket and jaw set.
"Did he sign the papers?" Dean asked. Castiel handed him the envelope proudly, nodding his head.
"As long as I come to see him every other weekend." Castiel informed him. Dean nodded his head, taking a few steps inside. Castiel's father rounded the corner, and he took a moment to look at Dean, his arm lazily coming up to rest on the banister.
"You're Castiel's boyfriend?" He asked. Dean nodded his head and put an arm around Castiel protectively. Cas blushed and his father sighed, closing his eyes. The smallest smile tugged itself onto the corners of his mouth.
"Don't hurt my little boy. Take care of him, and I don't care." Castiel's dad said. Dean didn't lose his serious expression, simply nodding. Castiel smiled a bit and grabbed Dean's hand, tugging him down the hallway and into his room.
Dean walked in and he nodded appreciatively at the stacks of boxes Castiel has organized.
"So, you're all ready to go?" Dean asked, walking over to the tallest stack. He picked up the leather book off of it, turning it over a couple of times in his hand.
Castiel lunged forward and grabbed it, pressing it up against his chest. Sean's eyebrow raised.
"That's... That's my mom's old diary." He mumbled, looking down at the ground. Dean gave a frustrated sigh and looked down, too, putting his face into his hands.
"Why do you even still have that piece of trash? She treated you like crap, Cas." Dean reminded him. Castiel hesitated, before he slowly set the book back down on the box. He gave a deep sigh. Dean was right; the woman was crazy and he was keeping her diary for literally no good reason.
"I don't know." He said honestly. "Maybe I feel connected to her or something."
"Well, you know what they say about bad connections." Dean said. Castiel's head tipped a bit to the side as his eyes flickered up to meet Dean's.
"No, no I don't." He said, frowning. Dean paused for a minute, moving his head a bit.
"Well, uh... They're bad?" Dean said with attitude, looking at Castiel like it was obvious. Cas rolled his eyes and turned back towards the pile of boxes, picking one of them up.
"Okay then Einstein, what would you suggest I do with it?"
Cliffhanger, I know. The next chapter is the last chapter, please review!
