Castiel slammed the front door behind him and leaned against it, hot tears springing to his eyes. He let out a shaky breath, blinking to try to keep himself from crying. He couldn't believe that Dean said those words to him; that he was weak and fucked up.

He clenched his fists and pushed himself up from the door, heading towards the stairs, but before he even got there he found Michael standing in front of him. Michael's arms were crossed, his eyes dark and stern, and his lips were drawn in a tight line.

"Hey, Castiel," Michael said curtly.

"Hi," Castiel replied, not meeting his eyes. "I have homework so I don't have time to chat-"

"Sit down," Michael commanded, gesturing towards the couch in the living room.

Castiel's eyes snapped up and widened, taken aback by Michael's forceful tone, but he obeyed, walking over to the couch and sitting down quietly. He placed his hands in his lap, palms up, and stared at them.

"The school called today," Michael started, crossing the room to stand in front of Castiel. "And they told me that you didn't come in, and that you would need a doctor's note to excuse your absence."

Castiel bit his lower lip, but didn't say anything. A silence hung in the air between them, and Castiel felt his breaths coming out more shallow.

"Where were you?" Michael asked.

"I-I was with Dean," Castiel muttered quietly.

"I figured as much. Where?"

"I can't tell you."

A strangled laugh escaped Michael's mouth, and Castiel flinched. "You skip school and go out galavanting with Dean, and you don't even have the decency to tell me where you went? That's rich."

Castiel clenched his fists, his voice rising. He lifted his head up and looked at Michael. "I can't tell you because it's not my business to tell you."

"What?" Michael snapped. "It's not your business to tell me where you're going?! You're a minor, Castiel. I'm your legal guardian. You don't get to just disappear and do whatever you want without telling me!"

"Right, like I'm going to ask you to let me skip school for something as important as this. Like you would've let me," Castiel snapped back.

"Damn right I wouldn't have let you. School is important, not whatever half-baked joyrides you have planned with some degenerate!"

Castiel leapt to his feet, fully shouting now. "It wasn't some joyride, and don't you dare call him that!"

"Don't lie to me, Castiel. I knew that kid was trouble the moment I saw him. I knew he'd get you to start acting out. I knew you'd start pulling stunts like this."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"Oh no? So it's just a coincidence that you start acting like this after you start dating him?"

"Why are you so quick to blame? Why do you have such a grudge against him? You barely know him!"

"Oh, and you do?" Michael snapped.

"Shut up," Castiel muttered, his clenched fists at his sides. "I know more about him than you do. And I make my own choices. I chose to skip."

"Yeah, like that makes it any better," Michael replied, his hand flying into his hair. "Honestly, if this keeps up, I'm going to have to bar you from seeing him."

Castiel's eyes widened and he clenched his teeth. He balled his fists up tighter, his fingernails now leaving indents in his palm. "You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me," Michael challenged through clenched teeth.

Castiel felt his stomach flip and his eyes get hot, new tears forming and threatening to spill over. He tried to steady his breathing, tried to get himself under control before snapping, but it was no use.

"You want to know where we were?" Castiel shouted, stepping closer to his brother. "We were at the courthouse. Dean had a hearing. He's trying to get custody of his little brother." Michael's eyebrows raised in shock, and Castiel continued. "His dad was abusive, just like Chuck. So he's trying to get custody of him, and I went with him for support. I know he's been having a hard time lately, especially because he's started showing signs of PTSD. And guess what? I'm glad I went, even if we did end up having a fight, because he had a panic attack and I was able to help him through it."

"Castiel," Michael started, his voice softer. "I-"

"You wanna know why I didn't ask for permission? Because I knew you would say no. I knew you didn't like him and would assume I was lying, so I didn't come to you. You've been acting more like a parent ever since Chuck, I don't feel like I can come to you for anything!"

Castiel lifted a foot and kicked the coffee table, flipping it over to the other end of the room. "And I figured having perfect attendance didn't matter anymore because I got rejected from Yale anyways, so who actually fucking cares if I show up anymore?!"

Hot tears were streaming down Castiel's face as he shouted. He turned and grabbed the lamp off of the table nearby. He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't help the feeling of relief that washed over him as he lashed out. "And of course you think he's some degenerate. Of course you look down your nose at him, despite the fact that he's gone through the same shit you went through and is being responsible. All you see is how cocky he can be and what side of town he lives on. You don't actually see how funny and kind and smart he actually is!"

Castiel ripped the lamp plug out of the wall and threw the lamp across the room. It hit the wall by the front door, and shattered immediately, spraying glass shards across the floor. Castiel fell back onto the couch, his head in his hands, as the tears started falling steadily, sobs wracking his body. After a few seconds he felt the couch dip next to him and a pair of arms wrap around him and pull him close.

"Shhh, it's okay," Michael comforted, rubbing Castiel's back.

They sat there for a few minutes until Castiel's sobbing stopped, now subsiding to a few stray tears and some sniffles. He didn't look at his older brother, feeling nothing but shame for having reacted the way that he did. He knew he had problems controlling his emotions because of the trauma, but he still was frustrated that he lashed out and broke a lamp.

Almost as if reading his mind, Michael broke the silence with, "Castiel, it's okay. I know you didn't mean to break the lamp."

Castiel said nothing, biting his lower lip. He overreacted, and he knew this, just like he did earlier with Dean.

"Castiel?" Michael said, breaking through his thoughts.

Castiel looked up, his eyes still heavy from crying.

Michael sighed. "I'm sorry, bud." He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair again. "You're right. I was passing judgement on Dean without properly getting to know him, and that wasn't fair to him or you."

Castiel sniffled and looked down at his hands before Michael continued.

"I just worry about you, okay? I know, I'm supposed to trust you - and I do - I just don't want you to end up hurt again like you were with Dad."

Castiel nodded. "I know," he replied. "But you can't protect me forever. Eventually I'll get hurt again, but that's a part of life. The only thing you can do is trust me and be there to support me when I need it."

Michael let out a soft chuckle and Castiel looked up, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You're much wiser than you think, Castiel. Sometimes you teach me a thing or two."

"I'm glad. Maybe I'll stop being the only smart one in this family," Castiel joked.

Michael let out a loud laugh. "Wow, low blow."

Castiel laughed in response. He watched his brother for a moment, feeling the weight of his emotions ease a bit. "Listen," he started, looking at the ground. "I'm sorry for snapping and for breaking the lamp."

"It's okay," Michael responded with a warm smile. "It's also my fault. I egged you on because I was upset. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"So, you and Dean got into a fight?"

Castiel let out a heavy sigh before looking at Michael. "Yeah, we did."

"About what?"

"I tried to confront him because he's been showing symptoms of PTSD, and he wasn't too thrilled about it. Said he isn't weak and fucked up."

Michael let out a breath. "Ouch. That's gotta hurt."

Castiel nodded slowly, feeling a pang in his chest again. He felt guilty for pushing Dean, and for walking away before they could resolve the situation, but he mostly felt hurt from Dean's words. He knew Dean likely didn't mean them, but he couldn't help the sting he felt inside. "He obviously wasn't very receptive."

"If it makes you feel any better, I seem to remember a certain someone reacting in a similar way when I brought it up to him," Michael mentioned.

Castiel snorted. "Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that."

"Yeah. You didn't talk to me again for a week."

"Right...sorry about that."

Michael waved a hand in the air. "Water under the bridge," he said with a smile. "We eventually got through it, and look at you now. You've made a lot of progress."

Castiel pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before saying, "You know, you're right."

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right, I'm your big brother."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Alright, don't get too full of yourself now."

Michael held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not, I'm not." He placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder softly. "But you should talk to Dean. Apologize and explain your side. He might still be defensive, but eventually he'll come around."

Castiel nodded. "Does that mean I can go call him now?"

"Hold on, we haven't talked about your punishment yet."

Castiel sighed. "Right."

"One week. Straight home after school. No friends over, no Dean over. You can still keep your phone."

"Yeah, I deserve that," Castiel said quietly.

"Next time, please just come talk to me. I'll put aside my parental helmet and try to level with you like a brother, okay?"

Castiel looked up, a small smile spreading across his face. "Deal."

X

Castiel was laying in bed on his back, staring up at the ceiling, thumbing the edges of his cell phone that was resting on his stomach. He had been debating on calling Dean for twenty minutes, afraid the other boy wouldn't forgive him for lashing out earlier. He wasn't even sure of what to say.

Castiel lifted his phone up to his face and the screen lit up, showing several unopened texts from Dean. He sighed, knowing that he was getting too far in his head about the situation, but that's just how he was. He'd always been like that since he was a kid. In fact, it drove his siblings nuts how often he overthought things and got in his own way. It was something he tried working on in counseling, but to no avail. Maybe one day he'd stop, but not today.

Castiel let out a slow breath as he unlocked his phone and went into his messages, his hands shaking as he opened the texts.

3:24pm: Cas, I'm sorry.

3:30pm: I know you're mad at me, but I promise I didn't mean what I said.

3:56pm: Please stop ignoring me. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry

4:15pm: Cas, call me

4:20pm: Cas, please.

Castiel dropped his phone to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to try to force back the tears. Of course Dean didn't mean it. Of course he was sorry. Of course Castiel was just being a stubborn idiot and should just call him.

Castiel cleared his throat and wiped his eyes before picking up his phone and calling Dean. He pressed the phone to his ear, eyes shut, and took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself down. After a few rings, he heard Dean answer.

"Cas?"

"Hello, Dean," He mumbled.

"Cas, holy shit, I didn't think you'd ever call. I'm so sorry for what I said-"

"Dean," Castiel cut him off. "It's okay."

"No, Cas, it's not. Please let me finish."

Castiel swallowed carefully and whispered, "Okay."

"I don't think you're weak or fucked up, okay? I was just angry and dealing with the fact that I just had a panic attack for the first time in my life."

There was a pause, in which Castiel heard Dean let out a slow breath before continuing.

"I guess I also didn't want to listen to what you were saying. I didn't want to think of the possibility that I might not just bounce back from what happened to me, that I'd need help. But that's no excuse for what I said. It was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Tears were freely flowing down Castiel's face now, and he wiped them away, taking in a shaky breath before responding. "I forgive you, Dean."

"Are you crying?" Dean asked, not even hiding the hint of worry in his voice. "Fuck, Cas, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Castiel said, clearing his throat. "I guess it just hurt because those words are the same ones I say to myself constantly."

"Cas..."

"But I get it now. Michael helped me understand, actually. He reminded me of how I reacted when he first told me he thought I had PTSD, and it was pretty much the same. I was scared. I didn't want to believe something could be wrong with me."

"Man," Dean said with a soft laugh. "I guess we're both hard-headed."

"I guess so," Castiel replied with a small smile. "Anyways, I'm sorry for pushing you. And I'm sorry for storming off earlier instead of talking to you."

"It's okay, Cas. You had every right to be mad."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I have a right to react in the way that I did. I may not be able to control my feelings, but I can control how I respond to them."

"Wow, Cas, way to sound like a therapist," Dean joked.

"I was in therapy for years, I hope I would've gotten something out of it."

They both dissolved into laughter, the tension from earlier being lifted. Castiel picked at the hem of his t-shirt as their laughter died down.

"You know, Cas, you're the strongest person I know. Most days you're the only one I know who seems to have everything together," Dean mused quietly.

"I wasn't always this way. Took a lot of therapy and a lot of work," Castiel replied.

"Well, maybe it's time I look for a therapist."

Castiel's eyes widened. "Dean, are you sure? I mean, are you ready for that?"

There was a pause before Dean responded. "I think so. I guess you pointing out the fact that I was struggling helped me to realize that maybe you were right."

"Dean, I'm proud of you," Castiel replied, smiling.

"Thanks. That actually means a lot."

"I can go with you for your first session and sit in the waiting room with you. If you want."

"Are you kidding?" Dean asked. "Of course I'd want you to be there."

Castiel laughed softly, feeling a warmth spreading in his chest. "Then I'll be there."

"I never thanked you for being there for me today."

"Oh, Dean. You don't have to thank me-"

"No, I want to," Dean interjected. "I was so caught up in everything and trying to figure out why you were skipping school that I never actually thanked you for being there for me. If you weren't, I don't know how I would've gotten through it, especially when I had that panic attack. So, thank you."

"I'm always here for you, Dean. Always." Castiel rolled over onto his side, staring at the wall before continuing. "Also, you were right. I was sort of acting out by skipping."

"You were?"

"Yes," Castiel looked around. "I got a letter from Yale about my admissions application. They rejected me."

"Those sons of bitches," Dean muttered, anger prevalent in his voice. "Yale would be lucky to have someone like you. They're morons."

Castiel chuckled softly. "Tell that to Yale."

"Cas, you'll find a better school."

"Better than Yale?" Castiel asked with a laugh. "Probably not. But I'll survive. Michael and I will figure it out."

"I know you will, you nerd."

Castiel chuckled. "Thanks for the support, dear."

"No problem, honey," Dean replied cheerily. Castiel rolled his eyes as Dean continued. "So, did Michael find out?"

"Yeah," Castiel replied with a sigh. "I'm grounded for a week."

"A whole week?!" Dean said with a groan. "I have to go without kisses and blowjobs from my hot boyfriend for a week?"

"I think you'll manage, Dean," Castiel replied with a laugh.

"We could always have phone sex."

Castiel felt his cheeks heat up. "Not while my brother's home."

"You're no fun," Dean replied. Castiel could just imagine the other boy pouting as he spoke.

"It's only a week, Dean. You'll still see me at school."

"Yeah, but I can't really grab your ass there, now can I?"

Castiel smiled wide, feeling himself blush more. He lifted a hand and covered his face, laughing. "I have to go, we're eating dinner soon. I'll text you."

"Alright, try not to miss me too much."

"No promises. Bye, Dean."

"Bye, Cas."