Tipping the Hourglass
Chapter 11: Taking Chances
Cas didn't stir when, a few hours after the two of them had come to resting, Dean got up out of bed and left the room. He was tired, and the bed was warm and comfortable. Somewhere in the back of his mind, her heard voices, maybe even saw the slight flow of light seeping in under Dean's bedroom door. But he didn't rise to meet it, or interject himself. Rather, he registered that there was Dean and… two others? Maybe. He just couldn't bring himself to really care. Instead, nose turned into the pillows, he continued to waver somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. That was, until, eventually, Dean slid back into bed with him. Content once more, he fell fully into slumber, only waking again sometime in early morning when his bladder stirred.
Blinking, Cas slowly sat up, the sheet falling away from his chest as he peered blearily around the room. Darkness still shone in from outside, Dean's figure resting with no sign of distress beside him. Having learned over the past few nights that Dean was a particularly heavy sleeper, he didn't bother being cautious concerning his movements as he pulled his legs over the side of the bed and out from under the covers. Stretching shortly, he was soon on his feet and headed toward the door.
Cracking it open, he paused when he spotted a light shining out from under the bathroom door.
Oh right, the voices.
Closing Dean's bedroom up again, he flicked on the light, not at all surprised when Dean didn't so much as stir, before retrieving the sweatpants he'd been wearing earlier and slipping them on. Turning the lights back off, he headed out into the apartment, too sleepy to care that, as he stood outside the bathroom door waiting, whoever came out would probably be thoroughly surprised to see him.
Soon the door opened, the light cast upon him harshly as a female figure emerged.
"Oh shit!" she hissed, backing up in surprise upon seeing Cas.
"Hello," he ground out, not fazed one bit by her reaction.
Across the room, upon Dean's air mattress, another figure stirred, flipping quickly over onto his hands and knees to catch sight of the unfamiliar voice that had greeted his companion.
"H-hello," the woman said uncomfortably as the man (because Cas could see he was a man based on his silhouette) stood and hastened his way over to them. "Uh…" The woman had no idea how to respond to the strange man waiting for her to leave the bathroom.
"Uh, hi," the other man finally reached them, Cas flicking his tired gaze over to him. He was tall, very tall, and his tone was far too lively when considering how early it was. He'd grown into his figure however, or so Cas noticed. The last time he'd seen him had been ten years ago, when he'd opened the Winchesters' door and allowed Cas inside to see Dean.
"Samuel," Cas said simply, too fatigued to care much about proper introductions. Mostly his mind buzzed with the fact that he still had to use the bathroom.
"Uh, Sam," he was corrected, but gave no affirmation at having at all heard. "And you're… you're Castiel, right?"
"Cas," his turn to do the correcting.
"Cas, right," Sam nodded in the darkness. "So, ah," he turned to the woman. "Oh, this is Ruby, my girlfriend." Cas's eyes had adjusted some, allowing him to make them out a little better. The woman was shorter by a great deal than Sam, with full lips, pointed features, and long brown hair. "And Ruby, this is, uh…" He looked again to Cas. "This is my brother's…"
"Boyfriend," Cas interjected coldly.
"Boyfriend?" Sam questioned, his eyebrows rising, surprised, in the darkness. "Wow… really?"
"Dean determined so last night," Cas replied robotically, once again looking to Ruby, but only because she was standing in the doorway. "Are you done?" he addressed her directly. "I need to use the bathroom."
"Oh, right, of course," she laughed awkwardly while jumping out of the way. To Sam's side. Not even bothering to look back at them, Cas dragged his feet into the room and closed the door, the two outside left to stare, somewhat bewildered, after him.
"Your bother's gay?" Ruby asked quietly a few seconds later. "But there are Asian porn magazine stacked everywhere in that bathroom." She tried not to sound accusing.
"I think he's bisexual," Dean determined. "But, ah, the whole dating guys thing is a new development." One that, despite having initially encouraged his brother, was still taking some time for Sam to get used to. "Boyfriends, huh…?" He couldn't hide his curiosity, not after living so long watching Dean sleep around with absolutely no intention of getting serious.
Well, maybe he'd just had to meet the right person? Or something?
Unaware that they were still standing right outside the bathroom door, both Ruby and Sam flinched lightly as Cas reappeared in the doorway. He stared at them for a few seconds, reaching up and clicking the light off at the same time, before eventually tearing his eyes away and walking back toward Dean's bedroom door. Without a word, he vanished inside, Sam and Ruby still standing stupidly in the dark.
Dean hadn't moved at all during Cas's absence and, because the sweats were too big anyway, he shucked them off again before climbing back into bed. Cuddling up next to Dean, he was falling quickly to sleep once more, only waking up a few hours later when Dean did. Because, despite it being Saturday, Dean had to work. Only till three however. Eyes closed, Cas listened as he bumped around the room, swearing to himself a few times in the dark because Dean was sensitive enough to know that, unlike with him, turning on the light would likely wake Cas up. Which meant he stumbled a few times.
"You can turn on the light," Cas muttered groggily after a while, somewhat amused but, of course, not showing it. "You're making enough noise to wake me up anyway."
"Oh, sorry," Dean replied gruffly, thankful to be able to see as he flicked up the switch. Turning his head into the pillow to avoid the harsh glow, Cas slowly allowed himself to wake up fully, more inclined to do so when Dean left the room, the shower in the bathroom echoing a few minutes later.
With a great sigh, he sat up, his eyes and mouth drooping with early morning sleep as he peered around the lightened room. After a few seconds simply sitting (because Cas really wasn't a morning person), he eventually managed to pull himself into standing. Locating Dean's sweats once again, he slipped them on and thought that, perhaps, since Dean had company, he'd better put on the sweatshirt too. Finding that among the clutter (because Dean had disorganized stacks of clothes and other things spotted about), he slipped it on before trailing out into the rest of the apartment.
The sheer darkness of the winter morning kept everything to constant shadow, and would remain so for some hours yet – it was neigh six in the morning. And, because he knew Dean's apartment well enough by now, he flicked on only the light above the kitchen counter, so as not to disturb Sam and Ruby, before he began opening the cabinet he knew held cereal. Pulling a bowl and spoon from the stack of clean dishes inside the sink, he poured himself a helping before going to sit in the dark at the dining table by the window.
He was practically falling asleep as he ate.
"You're going to end up with your face in that bowl," Dean's voice warned quietly above him and Cas jolted into alertness. Glancing up, he saw Dean smiling and dressed for work, even in the dark, and pursed his lips in displeasure. "Not that I wouldn't let it happen."
Cas cast him an unenthused eye.
"So…." Dean plopped himself down at the table as well, his voice lowered so as not to wake up the two only some ten feet away. "What are you planning to do today?" Cas merely raised his eyebrows however, as if to say, without any kind of attempt, that he didn't know. "Well, you can stay here if you want – hang out with Sammy and Ruby. I don't really care," he shrugged.
Cas, however, didn't verify whether he would do so or not. Instead, he shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. It was far, far too early to be thinking about such things – his home, that was. Though, he supposed, he couldn't hide from it forever. His friends were there, as was all his stuff. Maybe he should just wait and grab it while his mother was out. And what, just leave?
No. Glancing up at Dean, he realized that there was a stronger reason as to why he didn't want to cut his trip short.
Reaching out, he slid his hand across the table until it'd come over Dean's. Seeming to deflate some, Dean sighed, allowing his fingers to become twined with Cas's as he considered how best to word what he wanted to say.
"Cas, buddy," he started. "I think… I think maybe you should talk to your mom." This twitched Cas's attention directly to him, those blue eyes doubtful. "I'm serious," he persisted. "I saw her through your window when I picked up my car yesterday. She was pretty upset."
"Of course she was upset," Cas pulled his hand away rather coldly. "Her son is an abomination and a sinner."
"That's not the kind of upset that it looked like," Dean reasoned. "C'mon Cas, you can't run away from this." That earned him a glare, but he ignored it. "Give her a chance. Maybe it's not as bad as you think." That doubt had returned to his expression. "After all, you gave me a chance," he grinned cockily before winking. "And look where that got ya."
Cas pursed his lips. "That's a poor comparison."
"Just think about it," Dean lectured. "Like I said, she must have known for a little while – it's not like she found out yesterday." Which was the only defense that really had Cas just slightly hopeful. But the flipside – the potential for utter rejection – was just so much more painful. It was easier just… pretending like nothing had happened. "I have to go to work," Dean continued, "but I'll see ya later?"
"Sure," Cas nodded, far more awake now.
"Awesome," Dean grinned again as he stood. Leaning down, he grabbed Cas around the back of the neck before going in for a deep, passionate, yet short-lived kiss. Grinning again upon pulling away, he clicked his tongue in what he figured was an alluring, flirty manner before turning on his heel and heading for the door. Listening for the sound of the Impala starting up outside before driving away, Cas dropped his spoon back in the cereal bowl and contemplated what he should do.
The answers eluded him however, or, perhaps, he eluded them and, frustrated, he rose up before heading into the bathroom for a much-needed shower. Closing the door and pulling a towel out of the small closet, he began to strip down, his eyes drawn abruptly to the magazines sitting on the back and around the toilet.
"Busty Asian Beauties."
He knew Dean was bisexual, not gay, but, honestly, everything between them had been moving so fast that he hadn't had time to actually digest the fact. Cas had never dated someone that identified as bisexual before. He'd had his fair share of "boyfriends," but they'd all claimed "gay" and so he'd never been bothered by the prospect. Not to say he was bothered by it currently, but it did give him something else to consider about Dean. He knew full well that he was the first guy Dean had been with, but he hadn't actually asked him whether he'd ever been attracted to any other men before. After all, there weren't any gay porno mags in the bathroom.
Maybe Cas should buy him one and see how he reacted.
Not to say he doubted Dean's resolve – Cas could tell he liked things about men that women just couldn't substitute (and perhaps vice versa), but he'd be interested to understand it a bit better, if only because he'd always been attracted to men and hadn't had experience with weighing between the two. After all, as a hyper masculine guy raised in an anti-gay town, what had spurred Dean to really give Cas a chance? Other than, perhaps, physical attraction. Which could be reason enough he supposed.
Perhaps the better question to pose would be how Dean had managed to get over his homophobia. People in Burr were practically taught to hate gay people. Parents encouraged it and schools didn't have a problem with it (though these were also the kinds of education systems that secretly slipped bits of creationism into their curriculums).
Dean seemed to think that not much had happened in his life since high school, but Cas was convinced that couldn't be true. Maybe working at Bobby's and living day-to-day wasn't what Dean considered accomplished, but he'd somehow reached heights that others in Burr hadn't even fathomed. Why? How?
Cas found that he really wanted to know.
Pursing his lips, he climbed into the shower, allowing the warm water to wake him. He was left at peace, perhaps, for some fifteen minutes. Until, outside the shower, his phone began to ring. He'd set it on the sink and, sticking his head out, he reached around and grabbed it before bringing it to his ear.
Careful not to get it wet, he answered, "Hello?"
"Hey Cas." It was Anna. She was calling exceedingly early however, Cas becoming moderately concerned. He remained silent though, patient in allowing her to explain. "I was just wondering when you were planning on coming home." She knew perfectly well why he wasn't coming home, so he ignored her inquiry and continued to listen. "Your mom has been…" she sighed. "She's been up all night. I think she's waiting for you."
"Why?" Cas's voice was cold, which hid well the accusing coming forth from his voice. "I'd think she would be happy I was out of the house."
"Cas, that's not fair," Anna lectured. "You haven't even given her a chance. You should come and talk to her. I don't think she's slept at all." She took a deep breath. "And I know you're nervous about what she's going to say, but you're jumping to conclusions here. Come home and talk to her."
Cas remained silent, contemplating her words as his throat tightened slightly.
But what other choice did he really have? All his stuff was at his parents' house, as were his friends. He was going to have to face it all sooner or later. And both Dean and Anna had reasoned that perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. He really, truly doubted that his mother would support the way he lived his life, but… but perhaps it wouldn't be as terrible as he'd always envisioned. After all, she did know. There was no turning back from that.
"Alright Anna," he agreed, hearing her sigh of relief on the other end. "I'll be home in a little while." He had to finish his shower and get dressed. And then walk home.
Ending the conversation shortly after, he placed his phone back on the sink before finishing up. Exiting soon after, he wrapped the towel around his waist before grabbing up the sweats he'd been wearing (and his phone) and heading out the door.
He hadn't anticipated seeing both Sam and Ruby standing in the kitchen, staring at him as he walked out.
The muscles in his face tightened. "Good morning," he issued as he ran his hand through his wet hair, a few droplets of water that he'd missed with the towel slinking down his bare chest.
"Hey…" Sam greeted, a cup of coffee in his hand as he leaned against the counter. Ruby's eyes had fallen downward, as if to avoid staring at Cas's revealed form. He, however, cared little about it. Supposing that there was really no further point in simply staring at the newcomers, he turned away and headed straight into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
"Not much of a talker, is he?" Ruby asked, Sam chuckling in response.
"No," he shook his head.
Cas didn't hear them however, instead locating his clothes from the day before and slipping them on. Fully dressed in attire that actually fit him, he brushed his hair as best he could with his fingers before backtracking out into the apartment once again. Sam and Ruby were at the table now, eating, and Cas only looked at them shortly before going to the door where Dean's multiple pairs of boots were sitting.
Slipping on the first pair he came across, he tied them quickly and wondered how completely ridiculous he looked in a nice sweater, slacks, and combat boots. Not that anyone would be able to see him in the darkness of the morning.
"You leaving then?" Sam questioned across the room, drawing Cas's eyes.
"Yes," he affirmed with a simple nod, supposing it was within proper decorum to bid the two farewell. "Goodbye." Nodding, he turned and pulled open the door, unaware of the way Sam tried to wave farewell and fell short when it became clear he'd been ignored.
"Well, glad we got to meet him," Ruby rolled her eyes sarcastically.
"He was always like that," Sam explained, more amused at Cas's behavior than anything. "I remember, back in high school, him and Dean were working on a science project or something, and we were all sitting at the dining room table, working. My mom walks in and offers to make them some food, you know, polite stuff. And I'm pretty sure that Cas's exact words were 'no thank you, sustenance is not required.'"
"Ha!" Ruby shook her head. "He doesn't strike me as the type your brother would go for." Because she'd known Dean a few years now, having visited him multiple times with Sam. Truth be told, neither brother had ever been too open about Dean's personal life, but that he was bisexual was more than unexpected, at least as far as she knew. He always wore such a man's man façade.
"Mmm, I dunno," Sam sat back in his seat thoughtfully. "It's funny, because Dean and Cas were really on totally opposite sides of the social spectrum in high school. Dean was this, you know, good looking football jock and Cas was this skinny, dorky kid that liked to draw in the library during lunch." He clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "But I do remember watching them during that two weeks when they were working on that project. Dean would just sit at the table and… watch him." Ruby flicked her eyes up curiously. "He put on this whole front of making Cas do all the work, but sometimes I wonder if it wasn't just so he could sit there and watch him do it."
"They really liked each other that far back?" Ruby asked, supposing it was romantic, maybe.
"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "If Dean did like him back then, he was denying it too deeply to realize. And I can't speak for Cas. Although," he glanced up at the ceiling thoughtfully, "I wonder…"
"What?" Ruby asked in her abrupt, demanding fashion. Sam, however, had stood from his chair and was making his way over to the bookshelf in the corner. Mostly it was stacked up with car magazines and DVDs, but along the top rested only a few dusty old boxes. He remembered, a few years ago, going through them. Mostly they were old photographs from the days when their parents had been alive. Mary Winchester, their mother, had always had a passion for preserving memories. If anything at all had been happening, she'd been taking pictures of it. And because neither Sam nor Dean were in any way crafty, those photographs had been dumped in boxes and stored away – because what else were they supposed to do with them? Neither wanted to put them in albums, but it felt somehow wrong to throw them out.
Pulling down the box Sam's vague memory was telling him was the right one, he hauled it over to the dining room table before setting it up and pulling open the top flaps. Peering down into it, he was easily able to get a good view because of his height, his eyes scouring the pictures as his hands sifted through them. It was difficult work, looking for a specific set of pictures among the disorganized hundreds. However, with determination creasing his brows, Sam continued valiantly until the flash of Dean's red lettermen jacket caught his eye. Grabbing for it, he managed to pull out a stack of some five or six pictures all taken at about the same time.
"Ah, see?" he seemed pleased with himself as he shoved the box aside and laid evidence down for Ruby to view. "Exactly what I said." Both examining the photos, they saw a spread of images that were, apparently, taken in the house where Dean and Sam had once lived. They were close ups of two boys, at about high school age, working on some kind of project at a dining table. The boy on the right was concentrating, his vibrant blue eyes trained on a piece of cardboard he was cutting apart. His black hair was a scraggily, long, curling mess and his skinny (very skinny) frame was draped in a sweater that was clearly too big, accented by a pair of kaki slacks (though these were hardly visible under the table).
Really, he looked like a frumpy, ridiculous mess.
The other boy, however, was clearly the shinier of the two. Tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing that dazzling Dean smile, he was staring over at the young Cas, his lettermen jacket and holy jeans displaying to any who looked what cliché he fell into (except for his hair, which was a Backstreet Boy kind of long and made Sam roll his eyes).
"Aw, look at his face," Ruby teased as she tugged one of the photos closer. They were all of the same topic, only slight variations in pose happening between the boys as they progressed. In one of them, only one, Cas has glanced up to say something to Dean, who was listening in what looked like rapt attention.
And in the photo that followed it, Dean had placed his elbow on the table in support of his head, his doofus-like smile ogling Cas in what Sam now saw as an obvious manner.
"He looks like he's in love with him already," Ruby laughed some more.
"I know, right?" Sam chuckled. "Too bad it took him ten years to figure it out."
"Well what about you?" Ruby smiled up at him, only having so much interest in Dean and Cas. "Any more interesting photos in there?"
"Mmm, probably," Sam teased. "Not that I'd let you see them." He reached for the box.
"We'll see about that," Ruby threatened, her arms lunging for him. Sam laughed again, holding the box above his head, and supposed it was about time that Dean was as happy as he was.
oOo
Cas was nervous. He'd never been nervous standing outside his own house before, but as he stared up at the door, he could feel his anxieties tightening. And, for once in his life, he was sure the horror was spelled out on his face. There was a vague glow shining out through the windows, likely meaning there was a light on somewhere inside, which meant that Cas would have to face the situation the moment he walked in the door.
How he wished he didn't have to.
Taking a deep breath, he gulped and forced his feet to shuffle up the sidewalk before beginning to shakily climb the steps. Upon facing the door, he had to pause again, his hand outstretched at the handle, but unable to actually open it.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he didn't have to. It swung open a few seconds later.
"Castiel," his father said calmly upon seeing him, his eyebrows only rising slightly. "I hadn't realized you were up." Or that he hadn't even been in the house all night, apparently. "What are you doing out here?" He was dressed in his suit and held his briefcase – likely on his way to work.
Cas hoped his father attributed his expression of terror to being surprised at the door.
"I was getting some fresh air," he lied, his voice seeming to grate and growl in comparison to the smoothness of his father's.
"Ah, I see," Jim replied as he walked out onto the porch, leaving the door open and nodding Cas inside. "I have to get to work, so be helpful to your mother today. She seemed somewhat distressed. I think the news about Raymond Smith shook her up a bit. Not used to having something like that so close to home."
He really had no idea.
"Yes Sir," Cas nodded, unable to face those heavy brown eyes. No more words were exchanged between them, Jim heading out to his car while Cas watched. It wasn't until his father had pulled out of the drive that it occurred to him the door was still open, heat escaping the house. Feeling obligated now, he slipped in, closing the door as quietly as he could.
Silence.
He thought he'd likely be able to hear a pin drop, it was that quiet. Reaching down, he began to untie Dean's boots, the sound of the laces scraping against the leather enough to make him flinch. Removing them, he set them off to the side before allowing his socked feet to toe across the entranceway.
The light appeared to be coming from the dining room, Cas's heart beating faster and faster as he approached the corner that would reveal the room. He tried to calm his breathing, to make it as quiet as possible, but it still seemed overly loud no matter what he did. Yet, as he came upon the now infamous room, he saw that the woman sitting at the table hadn't heard him coming.
Back to him, Naomi was sitting stoically at the table, the tension in her form clear. She was hunched some over the table, apparently staring at the Christmas cloth spread out there. Before her, the table was completely empty, not even a crumb present, and the lack of busyness that usually surrounded his mother didn't ease Cas's nerves any. He had half a mind to turn around and leave again.
No, he had to face this. One way or another, he didn't have a choice. Besides, his father had just left, so it was the perfect time.
Eyes sidetracking slightly, he awkwardly cleared his throat, his mother starting before turning to look at him.
He couldn't return her stare, his cheeks reddening as she gaped at him.
"Castiel," she murmured breathily, looking as though she were surprised to see her own son standing inside her house. He offered her no words in return however, his defenses high and ready for anything she had to throw at him. He simply stood, looking away, and waited.
"Your… your father," she began after a moment. "He just left…" As if that should mean something, though Cas couldn't place exactly what. So he still didn't offer a reply. "I-I'm glad your back Castiel," she continued. "I thought that…" That what? That he'd never come back? Well, maybe the fear was valid.
Slowly, she stood, Cas becoming even more defensive as his shoulders hunched. As if preparing himself for a blow. Naomi noticed, her own expression becoming even more grief-stricken upon seeing the way her son was obviously afraid of her. She'd raised him to expect only love from her, yet there he stood as if expecting some kind of beating. It pained her excessively, that he would feel so.
She didn't dare go any closer to him.
"Castiel…" Yet she was also at a loss for how to start. Or what to say. Because there was a giant elephant between them and it was doing its best to block their way.
Lips tightening, Cas gulped again, an abrupt kind of rashness assaulting him. He still didn't look at her, but his voice soon erupted from his throat.
"How long have you known?" he blurted, Naomi flicking her gaze downward.
"Since…" her breath shook as she sighed. "Since you were in high school."
"What?" He did look up at her then, both shocked and astounded. He couldn't believe that she'd honestly known that long. After all, that was over ten years. Over ten years and she'd never said anything to him, or even hinted at having found out his biggest secret.
"Yes," she nodded. "I… I was upstairs cleaning one day and… and I knew that you wanted your privacy, which I tried to respect," because at one point he'd asked that no one enter his room without asking and Naomi had been understanding enough to oblige, "but… but you must have been working on a project or something because there'd been these little, tiny bits of paper coming out under the door." She remembered it all vividly – a memory she knew she'd never forget. "So I… I went in, just to vacuum up the mess. I… I shouldn't have done what I did, but your diary had been sitting on your desk." Cas paled, wondering how he could have been so careless. "I let my curiosity get the better of me and… and read far too much." She looked ashamed. "Your sketchbook too, I saw." The one with all the Dean sketches he'd done, likely. Add that to his diary, which had probably been filled with entries about the Winchester, and the truth would be pretty apparent.
His most private thoughts and actions. Back then anyway.
"Oh my god…" he muttered, actually beginning to get nauseous. His skin was clammy, his body trembling, and for a moment he actually thought he might collapse. Naomi noticed the change as well, her eyes widening as she took a step closer to him.
"You should sit down," she advised. "Please Castiel."
"How can you act this way?" he asked, his blue eyes confused. "How can you even look at me? Or stand to be around me?" His tone broke some, his posture almost hunched, making him appear just as afraid as he actually felt.
"Castiel, I…" Naomi's hand fell back to her side. "I've had… a lot of time to come to terms with it." Which, honestly, didn't tell him very much.
"You never told Father?"
"No," she shook her head. "When I first found out, I had… considered it. That maybe Jim could help you through whatever it was that was making you this way." Like it was some sort of disease. "But I was too afraid of what people would say, for your father's career," she closed her eyes. "And I feared he'd send you away."
"Wouldn't that have been better?" His tone was a little spiteful.
"You are my son Castiel," she said almost sharply. "No mother, in her right mind, would want to send her children to such places." To the places his father had mentioned sending Raymond Smith to. "And, back then I… I think I had hoped it would be a phase. That you'd grow out of it. Or that maybe… maybe it was simply Dean Winchester." She sighed. "I was grateful, when you went off to college. That once you were away from him, maybe you'd find your way. But…"
"You don't agree with how I'm living my life…" he deduced.
"As your mother, there are plenty of things that you've done that I don't agree with," she verified. "But… it's your life Castiel, and it's no longer any of my business what goes on in it."
"So you've been ignoring it then," he said, the idea still hurtful. "Pretending that… that who I am doesn't exist."
"No Castiel," she shook her head. "I think about you everyday. You're my only son. You think I could just… throw you away?" He didn't know. He'd heard of plenty of parents who had. "No, I… I wanted to understand it. I wanted to know what God said, and what others were saying. I… I looked everywhere I could. Maybe originally it was because I wanted to try and fix you…" She paused. "But… the bible wasn't clear enough, and so many other sources told me to love you before I could… could hate you." As if there was someone who could demand that she hate a person in cold blood. "I tried looking elsewhere, researching it all. And I read about so many boys like you who were abused or hurt or… or killed. And I worried. I worried all the time." Her hand reached up to hold her forehead, her eyes watering.
"There were other stories too, about families being ripped apart and I… I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing you again. So I looked outside my faith for answers too. I tried to find a point of view that would justify what you were doing without jeopardizing what I believed." She sighed. "And maybe what I believed changed. Gradually…"
Cas, blue eyes wide, almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"God is about love, and understanding," she persisted, "and tolerance. That was always what I was taught, so I… I think I reformed my thinking based on that." Cas was gaping some, shocked. "You weren't doing anything to hurt anyone else, and you seemed… happy. I didn't… I didn't understand the crime in that." Her eyebrows were pulled together severely, as if she was still battling with what she said. The fact that she'd even tried, however, was more than Cas had ever anticipated.
More than he'd ever considered possible.
Abruptly, as though his body were suffering from whiplash, he felt himself crack, his legs giving out on him as he sank to the floor. Landing on his knees, his arms were limp at his sides, his eyes staring at the hardwood as he tried to comprehend what he'd just heard. He was gay; his mother knew he was gay. And she'd reconfigured her entire belief system just so she could justify still loving him? No one in his position ever anticipated such a thing to be possible, let alone to actually happen. Yet there was his mother, bending down before him in worry and concern as tears started to roll down his cheeks.
Just as she'd always been – his support.
"Castiel!" she crouched down quickly in front of him, her eyes initially searching in concern before she caught sight of the tears, at which point her shoulders dropped and her own eyes overflowed. "Castiel…"
He looked up at her, his breathing hitched as he tried to figure out what to say. How to respond. How he could possibly understand this woman in front of him, who was now showing more open-mindedness and compassion than maybe anyone he'd ever met – a quality he'd never realized had existed inside her. Because it was one thing to be raised into a lifestyle that encouraged acceptance, and quite another to have had to fight against the tide to get there. How much pain and doubt and suffering had she been through to get to that point? To get to a place where she could look at him, knowing what he was, and still want to love him?
And this woman was his mother?
Lips pursed, she reached out, her hand shaking as she laid it against his cheek. Her touch only made Cas more upset, his lips and chin quivering as he tried to take her in. All of her, because he'd never given himself the chance to do so before. Always his actions had been swayed by fear, by desperation to keep things from her. But now…
Now that was over.
He was free of it.
"You're my baby Castiel," she said through shaking words. "I'll always love you."
Which only broke him up further. Placing his hand over hers on his cheek, he closed his eyes and shook as she pulled him closer. Until his head was resting against her shoulder, her hands falling to his hair and back, where she stroked him gently.
Reaching out, he allowed his own arms to wrap around her middle, feeling closer to her in that moment than he had since he was an infant. Because he'd known who he was since his elementary years, and had held that secret from her all the time following.
Not anymore.
Behind the scenes, sitting at the top of the stairs, Anna smiled over at Balthazar, who grinned back, the two having been listening the whole time. They were both aware of how tormented Cas had been over the years concerning his family. Welcoming them to Chicago had always been a tense, anxiety-ridden mess. One where Cas stashed away anything and everything that could give him away and whoever he was dating at the time had had to vacate the premises for the holidays. It'd been a torture for him, which made his friends feel his relief too.
Of course, no matter how much good news could be given, Naomi was only half the equation. And, based on the night prior, they could all pretty well gauge where the other shoe would fall. It wouldn't be a match for what was going on downstairs.
However, one was still better then none, or so Anna and Balthazar figured.
For a long time, the only sounds heard throughout the house were Cas's tears and Naomi vainly attempting to comfort him. It was coming on eight in the morning when Cas finally approached the stairs, early morning dawn shining in through the windows as he spotted Anna and Balthazar. They smiled at him encouragingly, to which he replied with a mere purse of his lips as he headed up past them to his bedroom.
He remained there for some few hours, the house generally quiet until noon came around. At which point, Naomi called for lunch and they all filtered their way back into the dining room. Outside, the sky was a cloudy, bright gray. Snow, perhaps, to come in the near future.
"I just got a text from Dean," Cas mentioned quite nonchalantly as he sat down to the table. "He got out of work early and was going to come over." He didn't notice the odd look his mother gave him, or how Anna and Balthazar rolled their eyes. "His little brother and his girlfriend are in town for the holidays as well. I said it was alright if they came over too." None of which his mother objected to.
"When are they going to get here?" she asked. "Do I need to bring out more food?" Because they were having the leftovers from the night before. Cas, thoughtful, stared down at his plate before answering.
"Dean will be hungry," he decided. "He's always hungry." He then went about getting his own meal, once again completely missing the way Anna and Naomi exchanged a look, Balthazar chuckling silently to himself. "I don't know about Sam and Ruby."
"Well I'll go get some out just to be sure," Naomi decided, though she was getting her own food first, so it was likely she was going to eat before doing so. "I'll warm up the pie too. Dean sounded like he'd wanted some."
"So Cas," Balthazar started a second later. "About you and De-"
A knock on the door interrupted him. Rising quickly (maybe too quickly) to his feet, Cas went to answer it, straightening his dapper blue sweater on the way. Pulling the door open, he was not at all surprised to see Dean standing there with an arrogant smile on his face, Sam and Ruby behind him.
"Took my advice then, did ya?" Dean asked, his hands trapping the doorframe as he leaned in a little closer. "Coming back wasn't too bad?"
"No, it wasn't," Cas verified simply, not seeming to catch on to Dean's suggestive body language (or he was ignoring it). "My mother just got done putting lunch together, if you're interested."
Dean straightened right up then. "I was hoping you'd say that," he winked once at Cas and walked in, quite like he owned the place as Cas stepped out of the way. Rolling his eyes, Sam followed, both him and Ruby giving him short hellos as they did.
"Sorry about invading," Sam apologized on the way by. "Dean insisted…"
"It's fine," Cas verified, nodding once to them both. "You're all welcome." Thus the group trooped in entirely, the door clicking closed behind them. They removed their shoes at the entranceway, Dean whisking his way into the house before Cas without even the slightest consideration as to whether he was welcome to do so.
"Hey," he greeted the two at the table (Naomi was back in the kitchen). "I heard there was food." He sat down at the plate that had previously been Cas's, the food already put together but untouched. Opening up the sandwich, which was bare when compared to some, he furrowed his brows in disapproval before reaching out and beginning to soil it with whatever else he could find.
Cas, upon seeing him, didn't say anything. Instead, he sat down as well – next to Dean – before taking another plate and repeating his previous efforts.
"I'm not used to having so many people in my house at the holidays," Naomi started as she walked in with more food – to replenish what had already been taken. "It certainly is nice, for once."
"My pleasure," Dean smiled up at her while taking a bite out of Cas's sandwich. Which then made it difficult for him to speak and unable to properly introduce the people he'd dragged in with him. Not that it mattered. Sam was more than willing to take over.
"I'm Sam Winchester," he explained, holding out his hand for Naomi to shake, which she did. "This is Ruby, my girlfriend. We didn't mean to burst in on your house," he cringed awkwardly. "Dean insisted that we come however."
"It's quite alright Sam," Naomi assured. "Dean's been over almost every day since Cas got in, so I've grown quite accustomed to it." She smiled at Dean. "It's something I think I'll have to get used to." The man of discussion cast her a skeptical look, one that he turned quickly on Cas with an amused glint to his eyes. Cas, however, didn't seem to take the hint.
"What?" he asked after a moment, when Dean was still staring at him.
Dean's shoulders fell. "Never mind," he shook his head and went back to his sandwich.
"What?" he asked again, his eyebrows somewhat furrowed.
"Man, he really hasn't changed," Sam muttered, both Anna and Balthazar attempting to hide their smiles behind their hands. Naomi merely raised her eyebrows, as if to acknowledge her son's deficiency, before sitting back down in her seat.
"What?" Cas asked, focusing intently on Dean.
"Don't worry about it Cas," Anna tried to sooth. "It's nothing." Her words did little to comfort him however, his eyes narrowing some at Dean, who appeared to be chuckling silently to himself.
"What's so funny?"
"Don't worry about it," Dean repeated Anna's order. "Went over your head anyway…" That last was muttered, though Cas still heard it perfectly well. And, because he'd tried so hard these last ten years to improve his social etiquette, it actually offended him a great deal that Dean would act so flippant about it.
"I'm sorry," he tried his best at sarcasm, "that my 'people skills,'" he made air quotes, "leave something to be 'desired,'" more air quotes. "You don't need to be a 'jerk' about it."
"Whoa, kill the quotes there John McCain," Dean actually reached out and pushed Cas's hands back toward the table. "You're not doin' that right."
Cas glared at him.
"Someone's feisty today," Balthazar commented dryly.
"Bet he gets that from his mother," Dean cocked a smarmy grin as he glanced over at Naomi, who had raised her eyebrows skeptically, but didn't comment. Cas, on the other hand, was only more confused by the banter going on around him that no one would explain.
"Dean, you're disgusting," Sam scolded.
"I thought it was funny," Balthazar muttered.
"Will you guys stop?" Anna interjected. "Look at Cas. I don't think he has any idea what's going on." She, however, couldn't hold back laughing, which didn't make Cas feel any better. For some reason, he had the feeling he was the butt of some joke no one had bothered to tell him about.
And his mother was involved?
"I don't care," he decided, turning to his sandwich and resolutely deciding he didn't want anything to do with any of them.
"That is quite enough," Naomi came to her son's defense. "I think we're all quite aware of Castiel's strengths and weaknesses. No need to exploit them."
"Oh I'm perfectly aware of his strengths and weaknesses," Dean blatantly flirted before, quite to Cas's shocked dismay, reaching down under the table and grabbing his thigh rather roughly (which caused him to jump a considerable amount). However, no matter the grip, the intention was there, spread all over his face.
"Dean!" Cas hissed, shoving his hand back. "My mother is…" His lips tightened, as if he was afraid to continue, his blue eyes flicking quickly to Naomi before returning to the table.
"Dean," Naomi sounded reprimanding. "I really don't appreciate that kind of behavior under my roof."
"Sorry Mrs. Novak," he raised his hands up in the air, as if that would somehow justify innocence. "Won't happen again." Maybe. And she didn't seem to entirely believe him either, her eyes spelling it all out as she stood. Shaking her head, she walked across the room, apparently to the bathroom as the door clicked closed behind her.
Cas turned on Dean. "What do you think you're doing?!" he growled, quite beyond irritated.
"Calm down," Dean laughed. "Your mom knows what we've been doing." Cas's eyes bugged at this, as if he couldn't possibly believe such a thing, and Dean sighed with a roll of his eyes.
"He's not wrong Cas," Anna added. "I mean, she knows your gay, and you've been spending almost every other night you've been here at Dean's apartment. She may be your mother, but she's not daft." The logic of such words took a moment to sink in, Cas realizing, for the first time, that he hadn't covered his tracks as well as he'd thought – because he'd been under the impression that neither of his parents would ever fathom that he'd be doing what he was, and certainly not with Dean Winchester of all people. But after bearing in mind the fact that his mother knew…
He felt his cheeks rush with red.
"Oh, poor Cas," Balthazar chuckled. "I've never seen him blush like that before."
"I have," Dean grinned impishly before reaching under the table again, this time grabbing Cas around the thigh with both hands. Knocking his knees into the table, Cas nearly vaulted from the chair in surprise, his eyes spelling murder as he took in Dean's suggestive stare.
Breathing deeply, he steadied himself before shoving Dean away again and pushing back on his chair. Standing, he surveyed them all as he grabbed up his nearly empty plate of food.
"I hate all of you right now," he finally decided before turning on his heel and walking to the kitchen.
"You're terrible," Sam commented, looking directly at Dean. "It's a wonder he likes you at all."
"I know," Dean smiled again, swiveling in his seat to watch as Cas banged his dishes around in the kitchen. At about the same moment, Naomi appeared again, strolling in after him and thinking only shortly on Cas's irritated behavior.
"I still have the pie from yesterday if anyone is interested," she advertised a second later.
"I've been thinking about that pie all day Mrs. Novak," Dean verified willingly. "I love me some pie." And only Sam realized that, though he came off as a flirt, this was Dean's way of winning Naomi's favor. He was being equal amounts of smarm and gentleman, creating a rather charming friction. He was trying to impress her.
"Don't give him any," Cas stated coldly, glancing over at his mother as he stood beside her at the counter. She gave him a rather critical look, as if to scold him for such rudeness, but he seemed resolute that Dean should get no pie.
"Don't be like that Cas," Dean whined, finally frowning. "I want the pie."
Cas glared at him.
"I always wondered," Naomi started a few seconds later, beginning to scoop pieces of the pie out of the tray and onto plates for everyone, even though they hadn't said anything on the subject, "how Castiel got the nickname 'Cas.' Chuck and Samandriel don't call you that." She'd looked to her son.
"Cas is the name Dean gave him back in high school," Sam willingly explained. "He has this sick humor about giving everyone nicknames."
"Shut up Sammy," Dean pointed at his younger brother threateningly, but Sam wasn't fazed.
"And it's what he told us to call him when we met back in college," Anna shrugged. "I guess it stuck." Naomi was nodding, somewhat relieved and thankful to finally be learning more about her son than what he had ever allowed. It was as though, with the truth out, the barriers around him were coming down. If only forcibly because of his friends.
And boyfriend?
She didn't quite know what to think of that.
"What can I say, I'm a persuasive guy," Dean was more focused on the pie as Naomi brought him his piece.
"Or it's because Cas was so in love with you that he basically let you walk all over him," Sam replied sharply, completely unaware of the facts from that morning and that blatantly referencing such things could be potentially sensitive. "I remember that science project you guys did together," he continued blindly.
"So do I," Naomi didn't seem at all bothered however, well aware of the feelings her son had had toward Dean (which had apparently remained ten years later). "I vaguely remember hearing something about Castiel doing all the work while you watched." She'd crossed her arms over her chest, her words direct quotes from Cas's mouth after his first day working with Dean all those years ago.
"Well," Dean swallowed his bite of pie, "I think your memory must be mistaken," he was still flirting. "I'd never abuse your son's intelligence." He winked again, his complimentary lie making it difficult to somehow rebuke.
"Dude," Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Quit flirting with your boyfriend's mom. That's gross."
"You're gross," Dean accused immaturely.
Cas remained silent as the conversation ran away from him.
Naomi, however, was smiling, though her expression told her son nothing. Until, that was, she looked over at him, blue eyes soft as she took in Cas's identical pair. He pursed his lips, his heart racing, but there was no denouncing in her expression – no shame or accusing. No. A little confusion, maybe, and curiosity, but nothing that could result in hatred.
She loved him, he realized that truly then, and she would accept whoever he chose as a partner. Be them male or female.
The conversation between Sam and Dean continued, a few laughs echoing around the room, but Cas drowned it out. Instead, rounding the bar and entering back into the dining room, he reached out and wrapped his arms around his mother's shoulders, her eyes bugging in surprise as he embraced her.
He wasn't exactly huge on physical contact, at least, not in the friendly sense, and his motion seemed to take his mother by surprise. Yet as his arms tightened around her, she calmed, her soft smile still apparent as she reached her hands up and gripped at his arms, which were bound around her neck as he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against her shoulder.
How long had it been since he'd taken comfort from her presence (besides that morning)? Since he'd really allowed himself to see her as his mother and not an obstacle to be avoided?
Dishonesty has a price after all, one he'd been paying for years.
Perhaps there was a lesson to be learned…
At the table, those in the know had quieted, Sam and Ruby glancing up and becoming more perturbed by the fact that everyone seemed to be taking some kind of sentimentality from the hug, rather than the fact that it was happening in general. They didn't question however, instead waiting until the mother and son broke apart and the attitude of the room smoothed out.
"So you and Cas are boyfriends now then?" Anna dared to say, the first to interject into the silence as she eyed Dean critically. In the same second, her eyes flicked to Cas, a kind of guilted warning portrayed within them – one the latter chose to ignore.
"Seems that way," Dean smiled, apple pie crumbs burrowed into the corners of his mouth. Cas had made his way back over and was sitting down beside him, surveying his own piece of pie before glancing up to Dean.
"You have pie on your face," he stated matter-o-factly, Dean raising his eyebrows before reaching up and wiping the crumbs away with the back of his hand.
"I still can't believe you're dating a guy," Sam stated, eyes narrowed, and his brother glared in response. "I mean, not in the sense that I thought it impossible, but I just never imagined you'd ever be comfortable enough with yourself to admit you like men." Naomi, happy to listen and learn from the conversation, sat down and stayed quiet. Cas flicked his gaze to her occasionally, as if to gauge her reactions to what was being said, but her face was as blank as his could sometimes be.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked sharply, clearly and honestly offended.
"Well, I just…" Sam shrugged. "You always seemed so…"
"So what?"
"So… you…" Sam's lips pulled down at an awkward angle, clearly as though he didn't know what to say, and Dean found himself once again glaring.
"He means your hyper-masculinity," Anna explained, all eyes twitching her way. "Most guys in your position, the ones that are happy to be with women, wouldn't bother with men, even if they were attracted to them. It's just easier to ignore that part of themselves."
"I'm hyper-masculine?" Dean asked, looking as though he thought he should be offended, but not entirely sure.
"Sure," Balthazar nodded. "You're a 'manly-man,' you know? Cars and guns and combat boots. Compared to our Cassie here, you're a regular John Wayne."
"Well thanks Pilgrim," Dean scowled bitterly, still uncertain whether to be offended or not.
"So…" Naomi's clear voice silenced them all, her curious stare set on Dean, "you're attracted to men… and women?" Cas couldn't understand it, why he was embarrassed, but listening to his mother try to work through the situation brought a flush of scarlet to his cheeks as well as the inability to look at her.
"Apparently," Dean replied flatly.
"Then why don't you simply… date women?" Naomi asked, her curiosity innocent as she glanced around the group, as though to ask whether such a question was appropriate or not.
"Ah…" Dean tried to find a way to suitably answer the question. "Well…"
"His attraction cannot be helped any more than mine," Cas explained delicately, for once sensitive to the mindset of others and realizing that, though such answers may seem obvious to him and his friends, his mother was only just (despite whatever research she'd been doing the past ten years) beginning to understand.
"Besides," Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean's liked Cas since they were in high school."
"I don't remember that," Dean commented smartly.
"Yeah, well," Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the photos he and Ruby had been discussing earlier that morning, having wanted to show it to Cas, before lying it on the table. "I think your face in this picture spells it out pretty accurately."
Everyone at the table shot up with curiosity then, leaning their heads over to get a better look at the photo. Before anyone could get a real good look however, Dean had reached out and slapped his hand harshly over it, looking over at his brother suspiciously before dragging it over the tabletop to his side. He didn't know what the picture was of, after all, and wanted to look it over before allowing anyone else to see it (though he didn't recall anything overly embarrassing or inappropriate happening between him and Cas during high school). Ignoring the looks of disapproval he received from Anna and Balthazar, he shielded the photo from the views of others before looking at it.
Cas was leaning over beside him, also intrigued.
"What?" Dean glanced back up at Sam. "There's nothing in this photo that shows that." Him liking Cas, that was.
"C'mon Dean," Sam reached over with his long arms and snapped the picture from his brother's hands. "Look at your face." He passed the photo to Anna, who grabbed at it greedily. "You're practically salivating."
"What?" Dean balked.
"Oh, look at him," Balthazar teased once the photo reached him. "Cas is the apple of his eye." He then gave the photo to Naomi, who surveyed it with furrowed brows. Cas, on the other hand, remained silent, eating his pie in peace and managing to hide his slight smile behind the façade of chewing.
"You can say whatever you want," Dean waved them off. "That was ten years ago. I don't even remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, let alone anything from back then." That was, whether he'd felt anything for Cas. Mostly, he didn't see how it was relevant. He was with Cas then, so what did it matter whether he'd liked him in high school or not?
"I find that hard to believe," Sam commented dryly. "That you don't remember what you had for breakfast yesterday, that is."
Dean glared at him.
"I'm pretty sure I know what he had for breakfast yesterday," Balthazar winked in Cas's direction, who didn't seem to quite understand the reference. Dean looked as though to comment, but then shrugged as though he had a point, Naomi pursing her lips disapprovingly as she set the photo back on the table.
Before any more teasing could take place however, the front door opened, the entire group looking to the entranceway as Jim Novak walked into the house.
Like an anvil had been dropped down upon them, the mood fell away, replaced instead by a stiffness that even Sam and Ruby noticed. Reaching out quickly, Cas retrieved the photo and handed it to Dean, who stuffed it into the pocket on his jeans, which were more generous than Cas's dress slacks.
"Jim," Naomi greeted, surprised. "I wasn't expecting you back so early." She'd risen quickly from her seat, taking her husband's coat as he'd slipped it off. Without even the slightest bit of acknowledgment toward his wife, Jim walked to the dining room and sat down where'd she'd been previously – at the head of the table. He surveyed the group of young people in his typical, static way, his expression unreadable until he finally glanced to his wife.
"It was a long morning," he explained, his voice that smooth, easy tone. Cas, however, found an odd kind of hostility rise in his chest, quite unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Never in his entire life had he viewed his parents as any more than a single unite. Always the same, always performing in a certain pattern. Yet, now that his mother had broken away from that, he was able to really see how different they were.
He didn't like that his mother had jumped to her feet and begun the automatic service to his father. He didn't like that her seat had been usurped. He didn't like that his father was looking at them as though he knew any and all above them.
He didn't like it. Not at all.
"Whoa, Cas, chill," Dean whispered into his ear as Naomi continued to question Jim. The way Cas's shoulders had stiffened, his hands clawing at his own legs under the table – Dean had seen it all. The darkness that had entered his expression, which was turned on his father. That piercing anger.
Because, for once, Cas was allowing himself to be disapproving of his parents. No longer was he able to make excuses for their ignorance, not after his mother had proven that to be a falsity. There was no defense for his father, not anymore.
"Raymond Smith's parents came in to speak to us again," Jim was saying, the tight, strained awkwardness of the discussion nearly suffocating Sam and Ruby, who were more than able to sense that they should simply keep their mouths shut and listen.
"R-really," Naomi replied, her expression paling.
"They are lost," he shook his head. "Their son still refuses to face his wrongs, but they are hesitant to send him away." Dean grabbed Cas's hand harshly under the table, hopefully trying to dissuade him from doing something he'd regret. "I told them they were only enabling him, but they still seem uncertain on what to do."
"You advised them to send him to a 'cure-the-gay' camp?" Cas interjected, his voice coming through the conversation like a misplaced flat note.
Jim, who wasn't accustomed to his son (or anyone) questioning him so straight out, looked to Cas in surprise, pausing before giving a response.
"I advised them to send him somewhere that can help him," Jim replied, as if denouncing Cas's label of the places. Still standing, Naomi had paled further, everyone in the room abruptly on edge as they wondered, exactly, how far Cas was now willing to go.
"Maybe he can't be helped," Cas reasoned, his blue eyes meeting his father's brown with unblinking intensity. Jim, however, didn't seem to sense the aggression in his son's countenance.
"If willing, everyone can be helped Castiel," he reasoned. "You should not look upon the misguided with so little faith."
Cas's lips tightened.
"You are right," Dean interrupted, still clutching Cas's hand as though afraid he was going to lunge at his father then and there. Sam and Ruby were looking at each across from him, finally beginning to realize just how precarious the conversation was. "Cas, you should be more optimistic." He looked down at the aforementioned, who turned his gaze to Dean in anger and frustration.
"We're really sorry to hear you've had such a long morning," Anna started, smiling stiffly as Jim then looked to her, gaze ever intent. "Don't let us bother you Mr. Novak. You probably just want to relax. We were going to go out and pick up some last minute… gifts anyway," making up excuses on the fly. "So we'll all get out of your hair."
"Your thoughtfulness is appreciated Anna," Jim nodded, "though unnecessary."
"Well… we have to get the gifts so…" She shrugged helplessly. Jim only nodded however, as if accepting her dismissal, and, looking to the rest at the table quickly, she seemed to spur them into action. Rising quickly – some more clumsily than others – they were soon on their feet, Dean doing his best to guide the frustrated Cas to the door for his shoes and coat. Soon, despite the awkward silence permeating them all, they were headed out the door and down the front steps, Cas stiff and slow while Dean pushed him along.
"So, where are we really going?" Balthazar asked quietly once they were out on the lawn, the snow riding up their shoes.
"Anywhere but here," Dean hissed, his grip on Cas's sleeve tight, as if it were necessary to somehow hold the man back from going inside and acting out his life's vexations. Beginning to pull Cas toward his car, he ignored further conversation as he got in, pointing once at his boyfriend in order to issue that he do the same.
Seemingly glaring at Dean now, Cas did as told, dropping himself down into the passenger seat before crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the windshield.
Watching as they got into the Impala, the other four quickly jumped to action, heading over as well. Sam and Ruby slid in the backseat first – Dean was starting the car – and were required to squish to one side as Anna forced herself in beside Ruby.
Obviously displeased with the course of arrangements, Balthazar hastily jogged around to the passenger side, opening the door again and staring down at Cas. Without even the slightest reaction, Cas scooted over until he was right up beside their driver, Balthazar ducking inside just as Dean, now quite scrunched, reached up and set the car in reverse.
Outside, light flakes of snow were littering the windshield, the wipers seeming harsh and grating as they slid noisily back and forth.
Dean, despite being in control of the vehicle, still had little idea of where to actually take them, the silence in the vehicle leaving him with no assistance. It wasn't until Sam cleared his throat, causing a few to jump, that he was given a clear destination.
"Ruby and I were going to meet Gabriel at the park later," he said somewhat quietly, as if cautious of somehow upsetting the delicate mood. "You could drop us off there now, if you like."
"Sure thing Sammy," Dean replied through his teeth, though secretly thankful to have somewhere to set his attention. Besides Cas, that was. Continuing on down the road, he detoured through town until he neared the outskirts – about a twenty-minute drive. Above them, the sky was a cloudy, shadowed fog of early afternoon snow, doing little to lift the tension.
However, as most people were apt to stay inside on colder, blizzardy days, there was no one else at the park as Dean pulled in. Coming to a stop, those in the car seemed to pause for only a moment before Sam, hasty to alleviate the pressure, shoved his way out and was followed shortly by Ruby.
Anna and Balthazar looked once at each other before also shoving off, Dean left to look at Cas rather helplessly while also being thoroughly ignored. It wasn't until everyone else had wandered a safe distance away that he dared say something.
"Cas…" he started gruffly, somewhat peeved when, as if spurred by his voice, the other man scooted away before reaching out to the door. Leaving the car, he began to hunker off across the park in the opposite direction than everyone else had gone.
Sighing and rolling his eyes, Dean trailed after him.
"Cas, slow down," he issued after a few moments. Still he was ignored, Cas soon walking along the border of a frozen pond set off to the left side of the park. There were barren, empty trees spotting the area as well, a playground some twenty yards on the other side of the water. "Cas!"
Still nothing. Instead, coming to a stop, Dean watched as he turned and began to pace back and forth before the ice, his arms crossed over his pea coat, face set in hard focus.
"Hey," Dean approached him slowly, his hand reaching out and finding its way to his shoulder. Cas was forced to stop. Or throw Dean off, which he didn't do. "Talk to me," he said simply, forcing himself to remain calm even as Cas looked about to explode.
"What is there to talk about?" he snapped, Dean having to remind himself that it wasn't he whom Cas was angry with. "My father thinks I'm an abomination. A sinner who's going to hell. That's just something I have to accept, right?" He looked to Dean, honest questioning in his eyes.
And Dean didn't know what to say.
Helpless, Cas finally did shrug him off, walking a few more feet before bending down and tracing his finger atop the snow. As if, perhaps, to distract himself.
Dean tried to think of something to say.
"Listen Cas," he started as he crouched down beside him. "I can't give you any helpful advice on this. My parents are dead," he shook his head, "so I don't have to worry about how they'd react to something… like me being with another dude. But… I'm here… so…" That counted for something, right?
"I refuse to be ashamed," Cas murmured quietly, determinedly. His breathing was tight, Dean surveying his tight profile as he spoke. "Who I am isn't wrong. If my mother can see that, then he should be able to as well." His father, that was. "I don't want to hide it anymore…"
"I understand that," Dean replied, trying to say the right thing. "And I don't think you should have to, but…" he sighed, "if you tell him, I don't think it will go over as well as it did with Naomi." A hard truth. "If you tell him… I think you'll rip your family apart."
"So, what do I do?" Cas asked quietly. "Keep it a secret from him forever?" Like he had been for the last ten years? "Keep censoring what I say, and who I'm around?" He shook his head, those lost, hurt blue eyes finally meeting Dean's own. "I can't even post pictures of myself with… with other men on Facebook Dean. Because someone from high school might see it, or someone's parent. Or someone from the church. I'm just… sick of hiding…"
And Dean didn't know what to say. Instead, able to offer no words of comfort or wisdom, he watched as those blue eyes fell to the snow again, calmer now, but just as wounded. Reaching out, he allowed his arm to wrap heavily around Cas's shoulders, pulling him closer with the hope that maybe such action would be better than nothing.
He wasn't accounting for how much space was actually between him and Cas. Accidentally knocking the other man off balance, he fell into him, the both of them landing clumsily to their rears in the snow while Cas reached out in an attempt to steady himself. Instead, he just ended up with both hands submerged in the snow, which was far different than simply drawing his fingers through the stuff.
Pulling them out quickly, he looked down to see that they were already red, snow chilling his wrists as it fell up through his sleeves.
"Sorry," Dean laughed shortly, remaining where he was in the snow as he held his hands up to Cas's. Thighs knocking together, their breath was visible in the cold, intermingling as Dean gripped Cas's own between his leather-bound fingers. "You should have worn gloves," he commented softly.
"I hadn't realized I would need them," Cas replied, equally as quiet. Both staring down at their hands, they watched as Dean enveloped Cas's own as best he could, the snow quickly melting and leaving wet stains across Dean's leather gloves.
"You know," Dean started gruffly a few moments later, "you have really great hands." This took Cas somewhat aback, his brow furrowing as he glanced up to meet Dean's gaze, but the other man wasn't looking at him. No, he was quite focused on their hands still. "I mean, you could have a whole hand porn thing going for you."
"What?" Cas asked, clearly unsure how he was supposed to respond.
"Just take it as a compliment," Dean decided, explaining no more as he continued to try and rub warmth back into those bare hands. Cas, however, found that the leather wasn't much warmer than the snow and, not wanting his supposedly beautiful hands to freeze (plus, there was the whole him being an artist thing – couldn't really afford to lose them), he pushed them forward out of Dean's hold and into the other man's jacket. Wrapping his arms around Dean's back, he snuggled his way up to him, the leather falling around him as he let his hands grip at the shirt beneath.
Dean, not expecting the hug, fell further back into the snow, his whole body falling flat into the powder as Cas ended up on top of him. Still hugging him within his jacket, Cas buried his face into the crook between his shoulder and neck, Dean laughing once before, as though willingly defeated, allowing his arms to collapse around Cas as well. Holding him, he ignored the chill against his back and instead stared up at the cloudy, afternoon sky, Cas's heat enough to keep him warmed for the time being.
"Dean…" Cas murmured some seconds later, his blue eyes staring at the shadows against his neck as he flexed his hands against Dean's back.
"Hmm?" was the response he got.
"Do you…" Cas took a deep breath. "Do you believe in… soul mates?"
Dean didn't have an immediate response. It was clear that Cas must have something particular in mind in asking, but it wasn't exactly bothersome to Dean. Maybe a few days ago it might have been, but he'd found himself just as questioning as Cas had been recently. What with the painting and their abrupt attraction (or so it'd seemed after so many years).
However, he couldn't quite bring himself to be… superstitious enough to believe in something like soul mates.
"No," he finally decided. "I think that, maybe, we're all connected. In a way." But soul mates were too farfetched. "What about you?"
"I did once," Cas verified honestly. "Ten years ago. But… I don't think I do either… anymore…"
"You thought I was your soul mate?" Dean asked straight, referring to their high school days. "That's, like, dorkishly romantic."
"Thanks," Cas said flatly before clearing his throat and continuing. "I was young, and I felt like… like I was connected to you somehow. I guess I've just been trying to figure out if I still feel that way or not." Whether he was truly as… in love with Dean as he'd thought he'd once been, or if he was going off of desires still haunting him from those times.
It was all just so much like a dream – him and Dean.
"What's your rush?" Dean laughed some. "You don't have to figure it out right now. It's not like we're on some kind of timetable or something." His words were careless, easy, and probably a result of the high he felt when he was around his "boyfriend." Cas, though, couldn't bring himself to ignore it anymore. Not after his mother, and after hearing what his father had said. Hiding wasn't going to help anyone.
Sitting up, he removed himself from Dean's person, the attitude between them sobering quickly as what little heat they'd had was vacuumed away. Elbows on his knees, Cas stared out at the pond, his lips pursing. Dean sat up behind him, seeing the error in his words as he stared at the back of Cas's head.
"Right," he started, clearly bitter. "You don't live here."
"My life is in Chicago," Cas admitted, his heart constricting in pain even as the words left his lips. Because he was afraid that… that facing this would lose him Dean. Honestly, there was a part of him that was reeling with ideas. That was arguing that it wouldn't be so bad to give up his career and his apartment and simply move back to Burr. He'd be with Dean, and that was all that seemed to matter.
But that was illogical. And… ridiculous.
"I have a career Dean," he continued. "And it's… important to me." That he be able to be away from Kansas and everything that came with it. That he have his own life, his own place. He couldn't be himself with his family, but in Chicago…
He had sanctuary.
Dean wanted to rebuke with something along the lines of "well so did he," but knew that wasn't true. Working at Bobby's shop wasn't a career; it was a necessity. What little he did to survive. There was nothing holding him to Burr, he knew that, but had stubbornly remained because he… he was afraid.
Afraid of moving on, as Sammy had done. Of finding something in life worth living for. Not only because it was hard, but because it was risky. What was he supposed to do, pack up his apartment and just… follow Cas to Chicago? The idea seemed simple enough, but he knew it wasn't. Nothing was ever that easy. After all, what would he even do when he got there?
Get a job? Or live under Cas's support until he did? No, he couldn't do that – be obligated to someone else that way.
He knew what Sammy would say – "Go back to school." Somewhere deep down, buried in all the places he didn't want to look, he knew he should. That it was the only way he'd ever make something of himself. But he hadn't been in school for over ten years. Sure he had his high school diploma, but what would he really remember? Could he even do that… anymore…?
What colleges were there in Chicago?
And how would he pay for something like that?
Staring down at the snow, he felt his whole chest tighten, his eyebrows smashing together fiercely as he pulled and pushed himself, attempting to figure it out. Because… what if things with Cas didn't last? He hadn't been in a serious relationship, well, ever. And if they couldn't go the distance, where would he be? In Chicago, alone? He'd never even been to a city like that – one that big and… daunting.
It was terrifying, really, and his whole body seemed to shiver with the nerves of the idea.
But Cas…
He couldn't stay in Burr. That was completely out of the question.
"Dean?" He hadn't even noticed Cas turn back to look at him. Those blue eyes could see it however, despite sometimes being unaware of the feelings of others – the battle Dean was fighting within himself. It allowed Cas to hope, for the first time, that maybe there was a chance. Because Dean wasn't simply disregarding him, he was actually considering it. He was thinking about going to Chicago with him.
Just like that. After only being together a few days and he was actually thinking of picking up his life and moving. For Cas.
"You… you'd like it there," Cas jumped in, hoping to try and sway him while he could. "It's not like Burr, and there's always something to do, something going on. And… and you could… you could get a job there. Or-or even go to school, if you wanted." Their minds were rehashing the same issues, Dean's hesitant green eyes coming up to meet Cas's blue. "I went to school there, so I could help you. And I know lots of people. It… it wouldn't be bad. And you could… you could live with me, until you found your own place." The words were tumbling out of him uncontrollably – fueled by desperation perhaps – and he reached out, taking Dean's hand in his own once again. "Or if you just wanted to live with me, that would be fine." Whatever he wanted. So long as he was there, the details didn't matter to Cas.
"I don't know," Dean was shaking his head, looking back to the snow again. "People don't just… move their entire lives on a whim Cas. It doesn't work that way." Besides, he didn't want to be that guy who relocated his entire existence just to be with someone else. That wasn't healthy, right?
Well, perhaps it all depended upon the kind of life he'd actually be giving up and gaining in turn.
"It could…" Cas tried to reason, though he knew he wasn't convincing. Mostly due to the fact that, well, Dean was right. "People" didn't just do such things. Thought was required, and planning. And certainty. "Dean I…" Cas gulped. "I don't… want to lose you. Not now." Those green eyes came back up, Dean seeing that, despite his attempts to convince him, Cas was just as scared as he was. Just as uncertain. Yet just as wanting. They weren't teenagers anymore – their parents couldn't stop them from acting so foolishly. There was no one there to dissuade them otherwise. This was completely up to them; a decision all their own.
Which, perhaps, made it all that much more intimidating.
"Cas," Dean shook his head, forcing himself to see rationally despite how his heart willed against it. "We barely know each other." A fact whether they felt that way or not.
"So what?" Cas asked, still riding the desperation train in an attempt to convince him. "Why does any of that matter?" He knew why it mattered. There was evidence in his own actions, his own lies, that made it clear why it mattered. "There's nothing here for you Dean, you know that just as well as I do. There's no reason for you to stay."
"Cas, I grew up here."
"So what?!" he tried not to get too worked up, Dean's eyes widening in surprise. "What will you do here? Just keep… working at Bobby's shop forever? Until you grow old and die?" Harsh maybe, but true. "You could do better, I know you could."
"No Cas, you don't know," Dean objected, fully aware that his words stemmed solely from fear. "You don't know me. You don't-"
"I do!" Cas insisted, scooting across the snow until he was sitting directly in front of the other man, both his hands now gripping Dean's. "I do know," he said firmly, as though his own determination was strong enough to make it so.
And Dean, expression tight, found it difficult to somehow disagree. Because, even if he was afraid, he didn't want that fate either, the one Cas spoke of. He didn't want to simply live in Burr with nothing to show for himself. If he went with Cas, no matter how things turned out, then at least he'll have tried, right? That had to count for something.
There had to be meaning in it all somewhere.
"Dean, please…" Cas murmured, those blue eyes piercing. "Come with me."
Take a chance.
"Cas!" Anna's voice hit them both as though whiplash, the two having to take a moment to gather themselves before blinking and turning to look at her. She was jogging across the snow toward them, her phone held in her hand as she did.
"What?" Cas asked once she'd reached them, able to detect a hint of anxiety in her expression.
"I just got a call from Naomi," she explained through huffing breaths, Cas furrowing his eyebrows before realizing that he must have left his phone at home when he'd been ushered out of the house. Which meant that, since his parents were familiar enough with both Balthazar and Anna, she'd be the next one who'd get a call.
"What is it?" Cas asked again. "Did something happen?" Because there was clearly still apprehension pumping through her, which told him it wasn't just a regular, run-of-mill checkup call.
For a moment, his stomach dropped with the possibilities. That his mother had told his father, or that he'd somehow figured it out.
Before he could fully realize such fears however, Anna made all clear.
"It's Michael," she gulped, looking straight at him. "Michael's here."
