It was late when I finally manage to pull myself away from the conversation going on outside with Sam, and by that time I was knackered. Everyone had been busy since around nine helping set up for the gathering, and by now my body was sore, tired and crying out for sleep or rest of any kind. Heck, right now a bed of rusty nails and a mattress of broken glass and wasp nests was beginning to sound strangely comfortable. While it wasn`t particularly late when Cas had left, Bobby had stayed on chatting and drinking with John (who grumbled about only being able to join in as he was playing designated driver) and Kate was still singing along to her crappy music even now with Adam curled up asleep on her shoulder. Feeling bad about leaving Sam, who was still wide awake and eagerly chatting to me about how great the day had been, I make my excuses and trudge sleepily back into the house, up the stairs and along the cream hallway into my bedroom.
Not much had changed in the room since I had moved in all of those weeks ago. The walls were still that babyish shade of light blue, the bookcase in the corner still looked ever so slightly unstable, and the matching chest of draws half filled with my clothes was bare on top. No homey touches, no little mementos, no photo frames. I briefly think about how nice it would be to have the pictures from today blown up and framed so that they could sit on top of the old chest of draws or bedside table. The few changes were minor and hardly noticeable. The flowery bedding and curtains had been changed to plain red ones that I always ended up forgetting to open, and the Batman covers Cas had found so endearing. The handful of books I had packed with me stood untouched, their covers gathering dust and the only items on the floor were my messenger bag, empty can of juice I really meant to put in the bin, and the jeans I had just stepped out of and tossed away.
I climb under the covers, letting them slide down my legs, because really it was just too warm to actually need them over you, and close my eyes. As tired as I was, I expected to fall asleep almost instantly, but apparently my brain thought that now was a good time to come alive again. It replays to me the best parts of the day; Cas finally arriving and smiling that adorable little smile at me, making that cake with everyone (and of course, stuffing our faces full) and that time spent half hidden to everyone else by the swings, and the unplanned photo op with Sam behind the camera. The best moment had to be that kiss though. Cas leaning back dangerously low on the swing, pouting at me as though daring me to do it. I took him up on the challenge and it was magical. Seriously, anytime my brain wants to shut up and stop making me sound like a fucking Disney Princess would be great. Like right now for instance.
I wake up a full nine hours later, feeling groggy and confused. I blink in the bright light of late morning, trying to adjust to the change from the comforting blackness of my closed eyelids. Sitting up slowly, I ruffle my hair and stretch out my arms, then swing my legs over the side of the bed to climb out. Remembering to open the red curtains today I glance out at the garden, smiling when I see the expected mess. Paper plates had blown everywhere, plastic forks and knives scattered across the neatly kept lawn and wrappers from chocolate bars and crisps that should have gone in the bin were just dumped on the table, held down by half empty glasses. The sky was a depressing grey, unlike yesterday's brilliant blue, and my smile fades.
I exit the room and knock once on the bathroom door to check it is empty, and wash slowly, taking my time to get all of the days grime off. I dry and dress myself hurriedly, feeling the cool air come in through the open window and make my ways downstairs. Sounds like Kate and John were already up and making pancakes for breakfast.
"Morning sweetie. Take a seat," she beams and turns back to the batter in the pan. "You want anything special on your pancakes? Sam is having blueberry to be awkward," she jokes, swatting her eldest with a kitchen towel. "Adam and John want chocolate and I`m just sticking with plain."
I smile at her and ask for chocolate, which she says will be done in a minute. Sam was already tucking into his, because he was the first in the kitchen, and Adam was staring enviously at his half empty plate.
"Not long now till the schools reopen is it?" John asks, looking up from the morning paper, a boring habit of his was reading it every morning, and if we were unlucky, telling us all about it.
"The third."
"So that`s next-hang on." He opens up his old flip phone, a relic from the dinosaur era, and checks his calendar. "Next Thursday?"
"Well done," she rolls her eyes and we all laugh. "Here you are boys. More on the way." Kate puts down three plates of pancakes in from on us. A few minutes later she topples a couple more onto the existing piles and begins working on her own, then sits down not long after with her breakfast.
"Yesterday was lovely, wasn`t it?"
We all agree with her. Adam, through a large mouthful of choc-chip pancake that we all try our best to ignore.
"It was wonderful to see everyone again and didn`t you think Charlie and Jo were just adorable?" Kate practically coos.
Sam and I agree again, while Adam, who was at the stage where he thought all love was pretty icky most of the time, pulls a face and sticks his tongue out.
"Come again, hun?" John looks up from his paper, dropping crumbs all over it that hide in the crease down the middle of the pages.
"Charlie and Jo," Kate repeats, taking a delicate nibble of plain pancake. "They are so adorable together. I don`t know how I never saw it earlier."
John doesn`t seem to agree and quietly goes back to reading without saying a word. Kate shakes her head and drops the subject, but not before shooting me a sympathetic grin from across the table. I can`t bring myself to return the smile, just knowing that it would falter and come out as some weird watered down version. Sam notices my pained expression and nudges my bare foot from under the table with his own. His face drops when I ignore the friendly action and he tilts his head out of confusion. John turns the next page and continues reading, one hundred percent oblivious to his son`s inner struggle at the breakfast table. Adam attacks his food with his fork, stabbing a piece and chomping it down eagerly.
"So Dean, Bobby and I were discussing you starting working at the garage with us. We can offer you an apprenticeship if you like, but you will still have to continue to do your maths and English, either at home or at a local college."
I stare open mouthed over at him, nodding along like an idiot. I manage to compose myself. "Y-yeah, that`d be great. Tell Bobby thanks a lot."
John smiles. "No problem. You can start on the third when all the other kids go back to school."
"Ok."
To tell the truth I wasn't too sure how I felt about working alongside my dad at his garage. It was too close to the dreams I had as a kid, before he let me down big time. While I had been working on letting go, forgiving and forgetting, and it was generally going quite well, it was still incredibly difficult. I was still mad, still hurt and still cautious. I was fully aware that this new life he had built here for himself had meant nothing to me for years, and as well as it was going at the moment, it could still go to hell and then I would be right back at square one again. Alone, confused and hurting.
Honestly, I didn`t have a clue what I wanted from my future, how I wanted to spend the rest of my life. When he walked out I had just kind of assumed that was it all over at the tender age of twelve, and given up on dreaming about what could come next. Did I really want to be a mechanic anymore? I wasn`t sure. I liked cars. I had hated school for the past four years, and had absolutely no desire to put any time or effort in. Did I want to go back and work my ass off Monday to Friday, nine till three and then have to do coursework in my evenings and waste my weekends writing up shitty essays about dead or boring people? I wasn`t sure. Probably not. I don`t know. Maybe.
This was pathetic. I was sixteen years old and had no idea what to do with my life. As little as six months ago I had given up all hope of having a future to look forward to, but now there were possibilities again. Did everyone feel like this? How did they cope?
"Dean?" John looks concerned.
"Sorry. I was just daydreaming. I really can`t wait to start." It was the truth, mostly. I was looking forward to it, having a sense of purpose again, but mostly I was just scared. All these time I had been on the wrong path, making all the wrong choices, fucking everything up. I didn`t want to do that again.
My last few days of freedom are taken up by watching Scooby Doo with the boys, sneaking out at night with Cas and wandering on the beach (with possible kissing) and eating leftover cake. The very last day of freedom was split up between playing football with Sam, Adam and John while Kate sat stitching some weird blanket for the new arrival, and talking with Cas on our beach. When I had begun to think of it as belonging to us, I wasn`t certain, but I think I liked it. Besides, hardly anyone else used that area, so it kind of was ours.
"Urgh. I start working at the garage tomorrow and I have an eight AM start," I complain, sat on one of the large rocks with my bare feet dangling and kicking the sand.
Cas squeezes my hand comfortingly and leans his face in closer, close enough that his breath fans my face and tickles my skin. "That sucks," he sympathises, brushing his lips briefly across mine. "However, I think you will learn to cope."
"God, I hope not."
He laughs and gently nudges my lips with his own once more. "So will this mean I see less of you?" he pouts childishly. "I don`t like the sound of that. I mean, how on Earth am I meant to cope without your cheery face every day?"
"Ha ha. Not funny, Cas. I`m going to miss you," I add on in a much more serious tone than I had used with him before.
He looks stunned for a minute, then pulls me over and crashes his mouth onto mine with such ferocity that I freeze, unsure what to do, arms flopping about uselessly at my sides. Cas` own arms wrap around me protectively, gripping hold of my loose shirt and bunching it up between his fingers. Struggling to get over my surprise, I begin to kiss back hesitantly, shyly. His tongue prods insistently at my lower lip and that is when I jolt back.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, concern colouring his confused words.
Gasping for breath I manage to tell him that I was simply surprised, but he had done nothing wrong. "In fact," I smirk. "I liked it a lot."
He flushes all the way down to his neck and turns away. "I just don`t want you forgetting about me, Dean. Can`t have some pretty girl coming in and catching your eye, now can I?"
I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and turn him back to face me. "Not going to happen," I promise.
We chat for a while longer about nothing in particular as the sun fades from the sky. I am about to ask if he wants to cuddle up under the tartan blanket in his bag when he surprises me for a second time that night by standing up and tugging his t shirt off and over his head. I watch in amazement as he does the same for his slim fitting jeans. He gathers both items up and stuffs them into his backpack.
"What?" he grins upon seeing my shocked (but definitely not unhappy) face. "I want to go swimming. I didn`t think that you would like it if I removed everything I was wearing, but I`ll be damned if I am getting a cold from swimming in the only clothes I have with me."
Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you might be wrong about that. Thankfully, I am able to mute myself before I humiliate myself by repeating the embarrassing thought out loud.
"Care to join me?" he teases, before running straight into on incoming wave. I hold my breath and don`t dare let it out again until I see his dark head resurface. "Come on you scaredy cat!" He splashes me with icy cold water and I flinch back, glaring at him.
I gulp, looking out at the endless sea in front of me. I`d never been a very confident swimmer, but Cas seemed to be. Not the wisest decision I had made in a while, but I copy Cas and hastily remove my jeans and shirt, feeling more than a little self-conscious when I see him staring unashamedly, and jump in. I scream when the freezing water splashes around me, threatening to take me under, but manage to keep on my feet, hoping that I won`t step on anything hidden in the sand.
"Cold?"
"Me?" I shiver, voice trembling. "No way. You?"
Instead of answering me verbally, he splashes me again right in the face.
"If I end up dying of hypothermia and am late for my first day tomorrow I am so gonna kill you!" I threaten him, splashing him back.
"I won`t let anything happen to you Dean. You should know that by now."
I chuckle, and dodge another salt water attack. "My guardian angel has got nothing on you, eh?" I joke and he laughs, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me again.
"I love you, Dean."
I freeze.
He had said it, finally one of us had voiced what we both had been thinking, what we both already knew to be true. Love. I love you. And God it was so predictable, so damn cheesy and like every bad chick-flick combined, but I hadn`t been aware just how badly I had been wanting him to say those three little words. How long I had been waiting. How long had he been waiting? I love you too. Of course I did, no matter how stupid it sounded, or how fast this was moving. In ten years from now we would probably both look back on this and laugh because what could two misfit kids possibly know about love? Nothing. Exactly. But right now, we knew everything.
I take a deep, steadying breath. "I love you too, Cas."
