Chapter Nine: Look After You

Castiel took a deep breath, coat dangling off his fingers. "I have been busy."

Lucifer laughed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, packing to leave with those Winchester boys, right? Figures you'd get along with them. A freak like you probably fits in really well with them. Takes one to know one, I suppose."

Castiel felt anger flare up inside him. Lucifer wasn't just insulting his friends, he was insulting his family. "They are not freaks." He spoke before he realized he had done so. Lucifer's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Lucifer leaned in close to Cas, backing him against the door. Castiel swallowed loudly, hoping Gabriel or Dean or anyone would show up. Seconds that seemed like minutes went by, but no one came to help him.

"Answer me, bitch!" Lucifer yelled, slamming Cas against the door. Castiel yelped and dropped his coat.

Lucifer, keeping one hand on Cas's chest, gave him a wicked smile, and slid the jacket over with his foot. Slowly, he drew his shoe across its tan exterior, leaving a dark, ugly skid mark of dirt and mud. Lucifer released his hand from Cas, who leaned against the door shakily, and reached down to pick up the jacket. He looked right into Cas's eyes, and ripped a long tear in arm, leaving it nearly hanging off the article. He threw it, and it hit Castiel in the face, and slid off his nose almost comically.

"There. Now your stupid little coat is useless. Just like you." Lucifer laughed viciously.

Castiel felt like crying, and bit at the inside of his cheek to distract himself. He had had his chance to escape, and he lost it. He blew it because of his stupid, dumbass jacket. His mind was racing, pounding, almost. A thought crossed his mind, and Castiel immediately dismissed it. It was stupid, it would probably get him hospitalized, if not killed. For some reason though, he felt himself drawing himself up to his full (if still small) height, and staring straight at Lucifer who was still laughing.

"I am not useless."

Lucifer stopped laughing immediately and turned towards Castiel, eyes narrowed.

"I am not useless," Castiel took a shaky breath, and kept going. "You are useless. You amount to nothing more than someone who feels overshadowed by his brother and lashes out. I am not useless because I have spent my whole life overshadowed by my brothers, and I have never sunk as low as you." Castiel was shaking now, fueled by fear and adrenaline. "You will never be able to convince me I am worth nothing because I know that I will always amount to more than you. I will never be the type of person who tears other people down because I feel inadequate. You don't scare me anymore, Lucifer, because you are pathetic."

Lucifer's hand shot out and grabbed Cas by the throat, pressing him hard against the wall. Castiel, despite what he had said, felt very afraid as he struggled to get air into his lungs, pulling at Lucifer's hands. Lucifer only squeezed tighter in response, and Castiel felt his mind thicken as his oxygen slowly ran out. He tried to call out for Gabriel, but the words died beneath the constricting grip of Lucifer's hands.

"Listen, you little bitch." Lucifer's words were hot in Cas's ear, but he could barely hear them. He just wanted air, he desperately wanted to feel a cool rush surge into his lungs. "You can talk all you want. You can say whatever the hell makes you feel better. But you better realize that little stunt you just pulled? I am going to make your life hell because of it. A thousands times worse than it is now. You can forget about running away with your little freak show friends. You are going to wish I would just kill you now. You know what? Maybe I will."

Lucifer pressed down tighter, bruising his throat. Everything was on fire, and he felt like he was going to burst into flames.

The door burst open, and Castiel felt the air pour back into his lungs. He fell the the floor, and saw the ceiling lights spin as he gasped like a fish out of water. When he finally came to his senses, he saw Dean sitting on Lucifer's chest, beating him mercilessly with his fists. Blood was leaking out of Lucifer's nose, and his face was already swelling a little.

"Dean! Dean, stop!" Sam's voice rang out, and Castiel saw the smaller boy grab onto Dean's shoulders, trying to pull him back. "Dean, you're going to kill him!"

Dean ceased his punches, and looked at Sam with a hellfire in his eyes. "And why shouldn't I? He was gonna kill Cas!"

"You're better than him, Dean. C'mon stop."

The fire went out in Dean's eyes, and he stood up, looking down at the bloodied mess he had turned Lucifer into. Lucifer was still conscious, and his eyes met Dean's, and the fire was back again.

"If I ever, ever, hear about you doing shit like this again, I will start punching, and I will not stop until you've stopped breathing." Dean's voice was a low growl, and Castiel watched on fearfully. He had seen rage of this magnitude before, but always directed at him, never for him. Sam held a similar look as Cas's as Dean lifted his foot and pressed it onto Lucifer's chest. "Do you understand me?"

Lucifer spat at Dean. "Fuck you."

Dean pressed down all of his weight onto that foot, and a crack resounded in the hallway. Lucifer let out a scream of agony, and Dean pressed harder. He only lifted his foot when every Novak in the household was standing in front of Dean.

Dean glared at Uriel, Raphael, Michael and Balthazar, sparing only Gabriel from his anger. Lucifer was clutching his chest where Dean had broken his ribs, wheezing in pain.

"You see this?" Dean yelled at them. "I did this because he deserved it. And honestly, all of you sons of bitches deserve it too. I can't believe you think this is what being a family is. You tormented your own brother. What is wrong with you? Why wasn't he good enough, because he didn't play football, or he isn't tall and popular? Fuck that, he is your goddamn brother. And you know what, it's a good thing he's not like you. Because he is a million times better than any of you. And you can come at me, fists flying. I will take every single one of you down just like that dick." Dean pointed a finger at Lucifer. "Go ahead, try it. You will regret it."

Dean stood silently, waiting for someone to come at him. Lucifer's groans of agony were the only sound anyone heard.

"That's what I thought." Dean turned and grabbed Castiel's ruined coat off the ground, and offered his hand out to the dazed boy. Castiel took his hand and stood with Dean. Sam scrambled over to Dean's side, and the three of them walked out, Castiel casting one last glance at his family.

As the door shut behind them, Gabriel smiled to himself. Cassie was gonna be alright.


Pain shot up through Castiel's ankle and he crumpled onto the ground, clutching at his foot. His eyes were screwed shut, and he breathed quickly, trying to fight the pain. Why had he ever tried to play a sport? Sports were stupid. Running was stupid. Holes in the ground that catch ankles were stupid.

Castiel blinked quickly, and Dean slowly materialized in front of him.

"What happened, Castiel?"

"I fell into a hole, and I think my ankle has broken." He grimaced as Dean stretched out his leg so he could bring Castiel's injured foot into his lap. His fingers ghosted over the already swelling

ankle.

"Does this hurt?" Dean moved the ankle experimentally, and Castiel let out a gasp of air and jerked his foot back.

"Yes! I would appreciate it if you would stop!"

Dean laughed. "It's just sprained. Can you walk at all?"

Castiel stared at Dean vehementently.

Dean chuckled again, and waved Sam over. Sam bent down and helped Castiel hobbled up onto one foot. The pair limped back to the Impala , Castiel leaning on Sam for support. Castiel swore to himself he would never try to play football, or any other sport again. It was clearly the only way to prevent an untimely death.

Castiel awkwardly shimmied into the back of the car, stretching his foot out on the seat. He fit, but only just. He had been growing a lot lately, and it was hard for him to fit into smaller spaces now.

They drove back to an apartment complex, the usual cheap place they set up in, but it was home. Sam helped Castiel out of the car, and they limped towards the elevator together. Fortunately, Sam had started to grow some more also. Actually, quite a lot. Sam was getting close to towering over Dean now.

Eventually, they all made it back into their apartment, and Castiel flopped onto the couch. Sam reached for the first soft thing it could find to put under Castiel's foot. It happened to be Castiel's coat. It was nearly identical to his old one, but it was larger, and without the rip and mud stain. Castiel reached down and untied his shoe, which was becoming very uncomfortable, and slid off his sock as well.

Dean came over holding the first aid kit they kept in the cabinet. He took Castiel's ankle, and began to wrap it tightly. When he was done, he placed a bag of ice on top of it, and another pillow under it.

"No more sports for you, Castiel."

Castiel smiled and laughed. He'd been doing a lot more of that lately. "I keep telling you and Sam that I am not any good at them. But thank you, Dean."

"Hey, no problem, Castiel."

Dean walked over to the kitchen so he could put the first aid kit away. He looked at Castiel on the couch. The kid had filled out considerably, grown taller, grown broader, and ultimately changed from the tiny freshman boy he used to be. Regardless of that, every time Dean looked at him, he still saw the nerdy kid who showed Sam around on the first day of school, the kid who watched snowflakes for fun, the tiny boy with the messy black hair and the wrinkled jacket. But, the more he thought about that, he realized Castiel was still all of those things, and he was always going to be. Dean was glad for that; he wouldn't have Castiel any other way.

"Besides," Dean added, coming to sit down on the couch. "You're my little brother, it's my job to look after you."