Notes: Thank you to the readers who were kind enough to comment on the last chapter of this story. I appreciate each and every word I receive from you guys. Reviews and feedback are warmly welcomed and make my day.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own obsession with Supernatural.

Trigger Warnings: Mention of past child abuse. Mention of past character death.

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"-and, it's this awesome, silver color, like kind of metallic looking.'" Sam's face is animated with excitement, pausing in his storytelling only to take the occasional bite from the piece of lasagna and salad on the plate in front of him.

"This kid's parents bought him a Range Rover?" Dean asks. "That's insane. That's like an eighty-thousand dollar car. Who spends that kind of money on a teenager?"

"Gavin said it's not the most expensive model, so it was more like fifty thousand." Sam explains.

"Oh, well." Dean teases. "That makes perfect sense then."

Sam grins. "His parents didn't buy it for him. It was his mother's car, but she's getting an upgrade so she gave her old car to Gavin when he turned sixteen this weekend. Isn't that awesome?"

"Yeah, awesome." Dean colors the word with mocking, then turns to Castiel with an expectant smirk. "Isn't that awesome, Cas?"

Castiel knows that Dean is trying to engage him in the conversation because he has been unusually quiet during dinner so far. He has tried to pay attention and engage in the conversation around him, but he keeps getting distracted by his thoughts, thoughts that he's been trying his best not to let himself drown in since the phone call he received this afternoon. "Yes. That sounds like a very nice gift. Your friend must be pleased, Sam."

Castiel takes in the fond amusement on Dean's face and he realizes he had been expected to match Dean's sarcasm instead of answering sincerely.

"He definitely is." Sam says. "And, get this, it has four zone climate control so that the driver can choose what temperature they want, but so can the person in the passenger seat and both people in the backseat. Have you ever heard of anything that crazy?" Sam doesn't pause to wait for an answer. "And, it really works! Gavin drove a bunch of us around the school after practice and we set each climate zone to a distinctly different temperature and we kept switching seats, and you could really tell the difference in each seat! Isn't that amazing?"

Castiel watches Dean frown playfully. "What about the poor sucker sitting in the middle? I bet he doesn't think it's so amazing. I guess they didn't think of everything, now, did they?"

Sam laughs. "And it has heated massage seats. Isn't that crazy? I never knew there were so many things a car could have. I mean, the Impala doesn't even have power locks."

"Hey, the Impala's a classic, Sammy. You don't need power locks when you've got style."

Sam laughs again. "Kelly said that her parents are getting her a car next month when she turns sixteen, too. She doesn't know what yet. It's going to be a surprise. She says it won't be Range Rover nice, but still something good. Her older sister got a Honda Civic when she turned sixteen. A Honda's still pretty sweet, though. So." Sam looks back and forth between Dean and Castiel to make sure he has both their attention. Castiel does his best to focus on the boy and look interested. "Can I get a job when I turn sixteen? Basketball season will be done by then. I want to start saving for a car and insurance and stuff. I know it will probably mean more rides from you guys to my job and everything, but I'm hoping I can make enough money to make it worthwhile."

Dean's eyes meet Castiel's, and Castiel gives him a subtle nod to be taken however he wishes, as agreement that Sam should get a job, or that Castiel is good with whatever Dean decides. Castiel can't bring himself to care much at the moment about whether Sam gets a part time job or not, and the realization leaves him feeling guilty and inadequate as a caregiver.

"I guess you can get a job." Dean says. "I can check in with Ellen to see if they need a busboy at the restaurant, if you want."

Sam frowns slightly. "Ok, but can that maybe be a last resort if I can't find anything else? It's not that I have anything against the restaurant, but like, you and Jo are the youngest people there. I'm thinking I might try to find a job somewhere that hires more kids. It might be more fun that way."

"Whatever you want, Sammy." Dean says. "Are you sure that working's a good idea, on top of school and friends and everything?"

Sam sighs exasperatedly. "You always worked when you were in high school. Sometimes more than one job at a time."

"Yeah, and look how well that turned out for me." Dean says.

"Dropping out was your choice, Dean." Sam huffs, obviously annoyed with his brother. "You could have graduated if you really wanted to."

Castiel watches Dean avert his eyes from Sam, lowering them to the table in front of him for a moment before looking back up at his brother. Castiel knows that it didn't feel like much of a choice to Dean, with their father gone for long stretches of time, more often than not leaving a teenage Dean with inadequate resources to feed and clothe both himself and Sam, pay bills, and make the occasional rent payment.

"Mind your tone, Samuel." Castiel says, his voice low and serious. "You're bordering on disrespect."

Sam's head swivels from Dean to Cas. "Yes, Cas. Sorry. I just mean that lots of kids can manage part time jobs without dropping out of school. And, I can, too."

"Ok, Sammy." Dean's expression is carefully neutral. "You want a job, get a job."

Sam frowns. "I didn't mean it like that, Dean. I know it was harder for you when you were my age because of how dad was. I understand that. I'm not an idiot. But most kids who have parents who actually take care of them are able to have a part time job without dropping out of school. And, I think I'll be fine managing school and a job because I have you guys. That's all I meant. My grades are fine." Sam assures Dean. "I get all A's, and, yes, to answer your question, I think getting a job is a good idea. It's got to beat being the only kid in my grade without a car."

"I hardly think you'll be the only kid without a car." Dean says. "I didn't have my own car when I was sixteen. I didn't have any car until I inherited the Impala."

"It's different here." The exasperation is clear in Sam's voice again. "We never lived anywhere as nice as here when you were my age, Dean. I've heard people talking about it since I got to this school. Here everyone's parents get them a car when they turn sixteen. It's going to be so lame when I'm the only person I know who still needs a ride from his, well…..you guys, when everyone else has their own car. That's going to suck so bad-"

Castiel drops his fork and it lands on his plate with a loud clatter. He raises his voice. "How about a little gratitude for the things you do have, Samuel? Like a warm, safe home with people who treat you well and are willing to give you rides when you want them."

Castiel catches himself before the rest of his thought slips out, instead of beating you and making you sleep outside in the cold for talking back when you're told to wash the dishes when it's not your turn.

Castiel hasn't been able to shake the memory out of his head all day. He remembers crying himself to sleep in his bed, huddled close to Gabriel, thinking of Balthazar outside, alone in the cold and the dark. He can still remember how Balthazar looked the next morning, when their parents allowed him back indoors, exhausted and sniffling and pissed. Balthazar stayed in bed for several days with a cough that racked his entire body and welts on his back, buttocks and legs, their mother taking care of him, making him soup and bringing him tea, laying compresses on his forehead, putting antibiotic ointment on the worst of the welts, and monitoring his temperature, all the while reminding him that he had brought this sickness on himself and that God was punishing him for his disrespect and disobedience. Balthazar had still felt poorly the day he turned eighteen, but one week later, when he was fully recovered, he had disappeared in the middle of the night, along with that week's church collections.

Sam's eyes go deer-in-the-headlights wide. The "yes, Cas" comes out automatically. Castiel is as shocked as everyone else at the table that he raised his voice, and especially that he raised it at Sam, and over something this trivial. He remembers keeping his composure during all the hateful things Sam had spewed at him that evening in the car when the boy had thought he hadn't made the basketball team. Castiel feels a wave of guilt as he watches the boy look back at him uneasily.

"I'm sorry…..." Castiel says, to both of them. He trails off, feeling ashamed at having lashed out and not knowing what to say to make it better.

Dean has paused chewing and is studying Castiel carefully. Cas watches his jaw move as he resumes chewing and swallows. "Cas, are you ok?" Dean asks.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I'm, um, I'm not feeling very well this evening." Cas looks from Dean to Sam. "I apologize for my behavior, Samuel." Cas starts to rise from his chair. "I should go and let you both enjoy your dinner without me. I don't think I'm very good company this evening."

"Cas, wait." Dean says. Castiel can see the genuine concern in his boyfriend's eyes. "You're always good company. No one wants you to leave. Are you sure you're all right?"

Cas sits back down. "Yes, Dean. I'm fine. Thank you." Cas attempts to smile, but even he can tell it's not convincing so he picks up his fork and tries to focus on the food on his plate instead, but he has no appetite and it all looks completely unappealing and he slides his fork down through the layers of cheese and sauce.

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"So." Dean scrapes food into the kitchen trash can from the last of the dinner dishes with the edge of a fork. Sam has gone up to his room to do his homework and Castiel is standing at the sink, washing dishes. "Do you want to tell me why you were so hard on Sam at dinner tonight? I mean, I was getting a little tired of hearing about Gavin's car, too, but it's not like the kid was asking us to get him one. He just wants to get a job so he can buy one himself."

Dean hears Castiel sigh. "I know. I'm sorry for yelling at Sam. I'll go up and talk to him as soon as I'm done here. I'll apologize again. I shouldn't have spoken to him the way I did."

"Are you sure you're all right, Cas? I've never seen you like that before."

"I'm all right. I'm just sorry that I was unkind to your brother, Dean. Are you angry with me?"

Castiel looks up from his task to make eye contact with Dean, who is approaching with the last plate. Even though Castiel is a decade older than he is, in moments like this, Dean feels that he can see Castiel's younger self so clearly. A sad, hurt little boy desperate for kindness and affection even as he believes he's lost the privilege by doing something wrong. Are you angry with me? It's something Dean himself never thinks to ask after apologizing to Castiel, secure in his belief that he's been forgiven, but it's Castiel's go to question when he feels guilty about something. Dean knows that Castiel's childhood was built on hurt and shame and that even though Castiel is capable of great forgiveness toward others, he has difficulty extending that same kindness to himself, or believing that he is worthy of it from others.

Dean gently slips the plate into the soapy water in the sink so as to not splash his boyfriend. He has a random thought about how much peace his after dinner kitchen routine with Castiel brings him and how hard it must have been for his dad to lose his mom, knowing he might never have someone to share this type of domestic tranquility with again. "I'm not angry with you, Cas." Dean can't remember ever getting angry with Castiel, not really, even mild annoyance with his boyfriend is rare for him. Castiel treats him better than anyone else ever has. Dean knows that makes it easy to ignore the guy's eccentricities. "I mean, you weren't even that bad by most people's standards. You didn't even really yell. Sam's gotten way worse from my dad, probably from me, too, when he was being particularly irritating. And you told him you were sorry. He seemed fine by the time we were done with dinner. I'm not worried about him. I just want to understand what happened. I'm concerned about you." Castiel turns back to the task in front of him and Dean studies the man's profile while he works. "I've never heard you raise your voice before. At Sammy, or me, or anyone. Not even when we first moved in and he was being pretty shitty to you on a regular basis. Is something wrong, Cas?"

Castiel sighs loudly, but doesn't speak or look up from the dishes.

Dean decides to change tack, running one hand slowly up Castiel's back over the soft jersey of his shirt. "Is whatever's bothering you something that we can fix with a trip out to the garage?" Dean is going for playful and sexy, running his fingers along the back of Castiel's neck. "Maybe taking some of that anger out on my ass will help?"

Castiel takes a sharp intake of breath and his hands stop, still holding the soapy sponge against a plate. He doesn't look up. "Is that what you think I do? Is that what you think of me?"

"I didn't mean anything bad by it. It wasn't an accusation. I just mean…" Dean closes the gap between them, with his chest against the other man's side, and his mouth close to his ear. "Sometimes I like it when you fuck me nice and hard and beat my ass. It helps when I'm feeling stressed, or when I feel like everything's out of control. And." Dean goes for casual innocence. "If I'm not wrong, you seem to also enjoy fucking me nice and hard and beating my ass, so…..."

Castiel is shaking his head back and forth and Dean can see tears pooled in the one eye he can see. "I would never do either of those things to you with the way I feel tonight, Dean. I…..don't feel like myself, and I would never want to risk actually harming you. I hope you know that."

Dean stills his fingers. "Of course, I know that, Cas. I wouldn't trust you to do those things to me if I didn't." Dean gently cups his hand around the back of Castiel's neck. "What's going on? Can you please talk to me?"

Castiel lets out a slow exhale, and for a moment Dean thinks he isn't going to give him an answer.

"Balthazar is dead." Castiel's hands have stopped moving, but he hasn't looked up from the dishes.

"Oh, Cas." Dean doesn't know what to say. He moves his hand from Castiel's neck and wraps it around the man's body, hugging him tightly, wanting to offer the other man solid support. "I'm so sorry."

Castiel nods once, without looking up. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Dean grabs a dish towel off the counter and holds it out to Castiel. "Leave the dishes, Cas. Come sit down with me."

"Dean, I'm almost done here." Castiel tilts his head down toward the sink, a small frown on his face.

"Leave 'em, Cas. I'll finish them later." Dean says, more forcefully this time. Castiel pulls his hands out of the sink, accepts the dish towel, and dries his hands on it. Dean takes Castiel by the hand and leads him into the living room, Castiel following obediently along behind him. Dean takes a seat on the comfortable armchair next to the couch, then shakes his head as Castiel moves to cross in front of him toward the couch. "No, Cas, sit here with me."

Castiel frowns. "We won't both fit."

Dean holds firm to the other man's hand and pulls him toward him. "We will if you sit on my lap."

His frown deepens. "I don't want to squash you, Dean."

Dean huffs out an amused breath. "You won't squash me. I've got like twenty pounds on you. I'll be fine."

Castiel reluctantly lets himself be pulled down until he's sitting sideways on Dean's lap.

"Dean, this isn't appropriate." Castiel says, looking to Dean with earnest eyes. "What if Sam walks in? I don't want to make him uncomfortable in his own home."

"Cas, you're sitting on my lap, not giving me a blow job." Dean says. "Sam will live if he walks in on this."

"I feel ridiculous." Castiel says, his posture rigid.

"Well, don't. I've sat on your lap plenty of times." Dean says. He wraps his arms around Castiel's waist and pulls him toward him, trying to help him relax. "I just really want to hold you right now, and I know that I love it when you hold me like this. This is one of the things I remember the most about the night my dad died. Have I ever told you that?"

Castiel shakes his head slowly, his eyes trained down at his lap.

"I remember getting the call from the police. Sam crying himself to sleep in my arms on his bed. And, cuddling up on your lap on the couch in our old apartment, crying as quietly as I could to not wake up Sammy, and you holding me just like this and making me feel like maybe, just maybe, the world wasn't actually ending."

Castiel gives in and lets his body sag into Dean's, his side against Dean's chest and his head dropping onto Dean's shoulder.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Dean asks.

Castiel exhales audibly. "The investigator called today while I was at work." Castiel's voice is thick with emotion, and it hurts Dean to hear it. "He told me that Balthazar died from a heroin overdose when he was twenty-four years old. He would have been thirty-five if he was still alive today. He had been living in Los Angeles. I would have been twenty when he died. I was living in transitional housing while I went to college. I regret not looking for him then, or as soon as I was made to leave my family."

Dean squeezes Castiel tighter, holding the man snug against his body

"I was extremely fortunate when I left home, Dean. I had no idea what I was doing or where to go. My parents put me on a bus. I remember getting off at the end of the line when the driver told me I had to. I walked until my feet bled that first day. I was so scared, Dean. That I would starve. That I wouldn't find a safe place to sleep. That I would be alone forever." Castiel's voice breaks on the last word, and Dean finds himself blinking away tears forming in his own eyes. His own childhood hadn't been ideal, but he knows it doesn't hold a candle to Castiel's. "Then I saw the statue of St. Francis with animals at his feet and a bird on his arm and I was drawn to it without knowing what a homeless shelter even was. I just found the statue soothing and I sat down next to it. The next thing I knew, a kind woman was talking to me, a nun. She led me inside, offered me dinner and a warm place to sleep. The social worker at the shelter put me in touch with social services, where I was offered transitional housing and state funding for community college because I was a minor with no parents. All I was required to do was follow certain rules, and I have always been very good at that. I received so much help, Dean. Not because I was worthy or special in any way, but because I was lucky." Castiel rubs a hand across his eyes. "I could have shared some of my good fortune with Balthazar. I could have helped him, but I didn't even try."

"Cas, you had no idea where to find him, or what he was going through back then. You were just a kid in a tough situation trying to figure out your own life. What happened to Balthazar is not your fault."

"I should have tried." Castiel pauses. "Balthazar had an arrest record, too, Dean. One arrest at twenty years old for drug possession and one at nineteen for….prostitution." Castiel sounds wounded. "What his life must have been like…...he didn't serve time for either charge, so I suppose that's a blessing. I would hate to think of him suffering in prison…. He was a good person, Dean."

"I'm sure he was." Dean reaches a hand up and strokes through Castiel's hair, the way he does with Sam when he's crying or not feeling well.

"He was handsome. And very charming. All the girls from our church were always eager to be around him. He was funny, and sarcastic. You remind me of him sometimes." Dean gives Castiel a small smile at that. "He was kind. He didn't get along with Michael very well, but he was very kind to those of us who were younger than him. I was only thirteen when Balthazar left, but he never minded me or my brothers wanting to be around him. He never treated us like we had less value because we were younger, the way my parents and Michael often did. He treated me much the same way that you treat Sam, with consideration and compassion. Balthazar was a good brother, a good person." Dean watches Castiel's eyes well up with tears. "He deserved better than the life he experienced, as a child and as an adult."

"I'm sure he did, Cas. I'm so sorry about what happened to him. I'm so sorry you're going through this."

Castiel nods. "Thank you, Dean."

Dean holds Castiel tightly and feels the man's face drop down against his neck. Castiel makes no sound, his body doesn't move, and if it weren't for the wetness Dean feels on his neck, he wouldn't know his boyfriend was crying at all.

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They're still in the chair together, over an hour later, with Castiel half on Dean's lap, half on the chair alongside him, one leg draped across both of Dean's, his tears long dried and his head resting on Dean's shoulder, when Sam stops short in the entryway to the living room.

"Oh, uh, sorry." Sam starts to back out of the room, but Castiel is already sitting up and extricating himself from Dean's hold. Sam knows that Castiel is uncomfortable with anything beyond hand holding and chaste hello and goodbye kisses in front of him, and he feels guilty at having interrupted what was obviously a private moment.

"Sam, please don't go." Cas's voice comes out as a hoarse croak, and the man clears his throat. "I would very much like to speak with you. Do you have a few moments?" Cas stands up and resettles himself on the arm of the chair. Sam is surprised that Castiel didn't move to the couch, and he watches as Dean snakes one arm around Castiel's waist, resting his palm on the man's flank.

"Oh, uh, yes, Cas, sure." Sam feels a wave of nerves as he hesitantly walks into the room and takes a seat on the couch. He looks back and forth between his brother and Castiel, and decides that it might be better to head things off. "If this is about what happened at dinner, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I know things could have ended up really bad for me, after my dad died, if Dean had been with someone who wasn't as nice as you are, or who didn't want me moving into his house-."

"Hey, look at me, Sammy." Dean is leaning forward in the chair, his expression serious. He waits for Sam to raise nervous eyes to his. "I'll be the first to agree that we both got very lucky with Cas, but if I'd been dating someone who wasn't nice to you, that wouldn't have been a problem for long, cause I wouldn't have stayed with someone who couldn't understand how important you are to me. You get that, right?"

Sam nods. "Yeah." He does know this, but it feels comforting to hear Dean say it anyway, to be reassured that he still comes first to someone and that he didn't lose that when his dad died.

"Samuel, I apologize for not making my intentions clear." Castiel unwinds Dean's arm from his waist and moves to sit on the couch a couple of feet from Sam. "I'm the one who owes you an apology, not the other way around. I'm very sorry for how I spoke to you at dinner. I should not have raised my voice and snapped at you the way I did."

"It's ok." Sam says. He's been going over the conversation in his head while doing his homework and he feels a degree of shame over how he spoke to his brother about school. "I'm not sure you were wrong, though. I think maybe I was being kind of ungrateful."

"Your behavior does not excuse mine." Castiel says, his expression solemn. "You are a child and I have a responsibility to treat you with care regardless of…...whatever else may be going on with me, and I failed at that this evening."

"Is everything ok?" Sam asks, turning concerned eyes toward Castiel. "You said you weren't feeling well. Are you sick?"

"I'm not sick, but thank you for your concern." Cas says. He pauses a moment to collect his thoughts. "Do you remember how I told you that my brother Balthazar left home before I did? The day you were home sick from school and we were watching your little karate movie together?"

Sam would find Castiel's phrasing funny, your little karate movie, if everything didn't feel so serious right now, and if he couldn't already tell that this story was going to end badly. Instead he nods. "I remember."

"Well, our conversation got me thinking about my family, and I decided that I wanted to try to find Balthazar. I hired an investigator. He started searching for Balthazar a few days ago, and I had already let myself become….very hopeful that I would get to see my brother again. I received a call from the investigator today and I was informed that Balthazar passed away several years ago."

Sam feels his stomach drop in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Cas. That sucks."

"Thank you, Samuel. I realize that I'm not handling the news as well as I should be, but I shouldn't have lashed out at you. For that I'm very sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"Yeah. Yes, Cas, of course, I forgive you." Sam moves closer to Cas and wraps his arms around the man's waist. Cas wraps an arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him against his side. "Don't even worry about me. I'm fine. I'm so sorry about your brother."

"Thank you, Samuel." Sam feels Castiel smooth a hand across his hair and drop a quick kiss on the top of his head. It's unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome.

Sam pulls back after a moment and looks at Castiel. "Is there anything I can do? Like to help you?" He feels stupid as soon as he says it. He knows firsthand how difficult it is to lose a family member. What could he possibly do to make this any better for Cas? "I mean, you were totally there for us after our dad died. If there's anything I can do for you, to help you in any way, I want to do it. Ok?"

Castiel nods solemnly. "I appreciate that, Sam. Thank you. I will let you know if I think of anything I may need." It hits Sam that even though Castiel refers to him as a child and reprimands him if he steps so much as a toe out of line, the man doesn't condescend to him because of his age in moments like this, the way a lot of adults would. He appreciates that.

"Yeah, of course, Cas."

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The next morning, Sam is sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal when Castiel walks in, dressed for work, briefcase in hand.

"Are you almost ready, Sam?" Castiel has started driving Sam to school so that Dean can open at the restaurant, allowing him to work a full breakfast and lunch shift. Sam knows that Dean has been stressed about money lately and he hopes that this adjustment to his schedule will improve Dean's tips enough for him to relax a little.

"Uh, yeah. Just a sec." Sam starts eating faster, quickly lifting large spoonfuls of cereal to his mouth so that he won't keep Castiel waiting.

"Slow down before you choke, Samuel." Castiel admonishes.

Sam chews and swallows. "Yes, Cas. Sorry. I didn't want to hold you up."

Castiel sighs and sits down at the table across from Sam. He looks tired, and Sam wonders if the man had been able to sleep at all. He can still remember the mostly sleepless night he had when he found out his dad died, and finally crying himself to sleep, wrapped in Dean's arms in the early morning.

"We have time, Samuel." Castiel says. "You don't need to rush."

"'Kay, thash." Sam says around a new mouthful of cereal.

Castiel narrows his eyes at him with exaggeration that Sam would see as intentionally comical on Dean, but Castiel can be harder to read.

"What have I told you about speaking with your mouth full, Samuel?" Castiel's tone feels somewhat playful, or at least playful for him.

"Uh, not to do it?" Sam ventures a sheepish grin.

"Am I to believe that you've forgotten our previous conversations on this topic, or are you purposely trying to drive me crazy?" Castiel raises one eyebrow in question, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, belying the accusatory nature of his words.

Sam huffs out a half laugh. "Am I in more trouble or less trouble if I'm purposely trying to drive you crazy?" Sam laughs as Castiel narrows his eyes again in mock-sternness. "I just want to make sure I understand my options before I commit to an answer."

"Aren't you just full of sass this morning, little boy?" Castiel says, a small smile on his face.

Sam shrugs lightly and returns the smile, appreciating how easy this conversation feels. He lifts another spoonful of cereal to his mouth.

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They're only a few blocks from the high school and Sam knows he needs to bring it up now if he's going to bring it up at all. He looks toward Castiel, the man's attention firmly fixed on the outside world beyond the front windshield.

"Cas?" Sam starts hesitantly.

"Yes, Sam?" Castiel keeps his eyes on the road as he answers.

"Have you thought about searching for any of your other brothers? Like maybe the one who dared you to turn on the tv that time?" Sam feels like an ass that he can't remember Castiel's other brothers' names. He knows that one was named Michael, but that he was the dick who turned Cas into their abusive parents for watching five minutes of Sesame Street. And, he's pretty sure Cas mentioned a Raphael, but he doesn't think that's the brother Cas was closest to.

Sam watches Castiel's profile carefully. The man gives nothing away, his expression remaining neutral.

"Have I thought about searching for Gabriel?" Cas asks. Sam recognizes the paraphrased question as a stalling tactic. He isn't sure if it's his place to ask this, but he can't imagine being separated from Dean for so many years or having to leave home during his teens and never getting to see Dean again and wondering every day what happened to his brother and if he was alive or dead. It makes Sam too sad to contemplate, and he doesn't want that for Cas, either.

"Yeah." Sam starts. "I mean, when you were talking about him, it kind of seemed like he was a rebel. Or maybe not as fully indoctrinated as some of your other brothers. Like, how he dared you to turn on the tv, and how he thought your parents watched it when you guys weren't around. Do you think he might have left your family or church or whatever at some point, too?"

Castiel doesn't look toward Sam. "Gabriel was…...somewhat of a rebel. I can see how you would get that impression. And, yes, it's entirely possible that Gabriel would have left, or been asked to leave at some point."

"So, have you thought about having the investigator look for him, too?" Sam is trying to tread lightly, but he feels like this is important.

Castiel sighs audibly. "I have considered it, Samuel, yes. I don't think it's something I am going to pursue right now."

"Are you sure?" Sam asks. "It just seems like a good time to do it, since you're already in contact with an investigator and everything."

Castiel nods slowly. "I can understand how it would seem like a good idea to you, Samuel. I appreciate you thinking of me and bringing this up."

"If it's, uh, because of money, like if the investigator's really expensive and that's why you're not going to look for Gabriel, I don't need to go to basketball camp this summer. If that helps." Sam studies Castiel carefully, worried about overstepping. He can still remember his dad exploding on him a few times when Sam had brought up money.

"That's very generous of you to be willing to sacrifice basketball camp, but it is entirely unnecessary." Castiel shoots him a quick glance and a small smile before focusing back on the road. "The investigator's services were not cost prohibitive, and my decision is not based on financial concerns."

"So, how come you don't want to do it?" Sam asks tentatively. "I mean, if I had been separated from Dean, I would want to find him. I would be sad." Sam lets himself feel the slightest edge of the grief he would feel if he lost Dean and his heart feels heavy with it. "Just so, so sad, until I found him."

"I can appreciate your perspective, Sam. I am still processing everything that I learned about Balthazar." Castiel explains. "I do not wish for any additional….disappointment at the moment."

"Maybe it won't be disappointing. Maybe Gabriel's doing really well. Like you are."

Sam watches Castiel nod. "That is one possibility, yes."

"And, what if this is your last chance?" Sam is unsure how far he should push this, but he feels very strongly that Castiel needs to take action on this sooner rather than later. "I mean, we never know what's going to happen to any of us. What if…" Sam can't bring himself to introduce the possibility of Gabriel's death. It feels too awful with what Castiel is already going through. "What if something happens before you get a chance to reach out? Wouldn't you want to know that you tried your best to find him when you had the chance?"

"Right now, Samuel, I think I would like to focus on my-, on what I have with you and Dean. Perhaps I will revisit the idea of searching for Gabriel in the future, but I don't feel capable of handling any more pain right now. You might believe that makes me weak or that I might regret this decision later, but it is my choice to make."

"I don't think you're weak." Sam says in a quiet voice. This conversation has not gone the way Sam hoped, and he worries that Castiel is pissed at him. He feels defeated, and a little guilty for pushing this so hard. It really isn't his business, but he cares about Castiel and wants him to be happy and not look back on this as a missed opportunity. He thinks it's time to give it up, for now at least, before this conversation ends in a reprimand for disrespect. Sam is feeling emotional, thinking about Cas's loss, and he feels sure that any kind of stern talking to would leave him starting his school day red-eyed and sniffly. "Cas, I want you to know that you can consider me part of your family. If you still want to." Sam looks away from Castiel and out through the windshield. "I'm sorry I made such a big deal about it the last time you called us a family. I was being a jerk." Sam chances a look at Castiel, but the man is taking a left turn and is not looking at Sam. "I think of you as my family."

"Thank you, Samuel." Castiel's voice sounds off, maybe slightly emotional. "I very much appreciate you telling me that." Castiel clears his throat loudly, pulls the car over to the curb in front of the high school, puts it in park, and turns toward Sam. Castiel's demeanor seems to have shifted back to the neutral seriousness that Sam most closely associates with the man. Gone is the playfulness from breakfast, the discomfort from when Sam first broached the topic of searching for Castiel's brother, and the emotion from Sam referring to Castiel as family. This is a return to stern, authoritative Cas, Sam can tell by the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes, and he feels a vague sense of loss. "Right now, I would like to focus on the family I have with you and Dean. There may be a time when I decide to search for Gabriel in the future, but that time is not now. I appreciate your concern for my well being and your desire to see me reunited with my brother, but I do not wish to speak of this again. Am I making myself clear, Samuel?"

Sam feels his eyes getting damp at the reprimand. He was only trying to help. He blinks rapidly to get rid of the tears before they can embarrass him. "Yes, Cas. Sorry."

"There is nothing to apologize for." Castiel's voice and expression are firm, but not unkind. "You had valid concerns and you voiced them with maturity and respect. Your questions have been asked and answered now, and we do not need to discuss them again."

Sam nods. "Yes, Cas." He watches Castiel turn his head, looking around outside, at the handful of students walking past the car.

Castiel turns back toward Sam. "Would it be all right if I hug you here, Sam?" Castiel asks. "I would like to, but not if it will embarrass you."

Sam is leaning forward before Castiel has even finished speaking, extending his arms toward the man. He feels Castiel's arms wrap around him and he lets himself be pulled against the man's chest. "I love you, sweet boy. I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"I love you, too." Sam speaks into Castiel's shoulder. Castiel releases him when he starts to pull back from the hug. Sam sits for a moment and looks down at his lap, then brings his eyes up to meet Castiel's fond gaze. "So, uh, thanks for the ride, and everything. I should probably get inside."

"Go." Castiel smiles warmly at him. "Have a good day. Work hard and be kind." It's the same sendoff Castiel has given him every morning since the man started driving him to school.

Sam nods and returns the smile as he picks up his backpack and gym bag from the floor of the car. "You too, Cas." He opens the passenger door and lets himself out.

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"No way, Sammy." Dean shakes his head as he sprinkles rosemary and thyme over three pieces of tilapia situated in a glass baking dish on the counter. He looks back over his shoulder at his little brother, who's standing in the kitchen still in his practice gear under sweats and a hoodie, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his gym bag dropped on the floor by his feet. Dean knows it's stupid, but he feels a sense of loss at no longer getting to drop Sam off at school or pick him up after practice. School runs had always been Dean's job, but now Cas takes Sam to school in the morning and Sam gets rides home from his friend Gavin more often than not after practice. It makes Dean think about a time in the not so distant future when Sam will leave for college, and it hurts. "It's up to Cas. It's not our place to get involved in this."

Dean watches Sam huff out an annoyed breath. "I think it's exactly our place, Dean. We care about him. We're his family. Shouldn't we be looking out for him?"

"By going behind his back?" Dean questions, placing the baking sheet into the oven and setting the timer.

"He wants to do it." Dean can feel Sam getting frustrated with him. "I could tell. But, he's scared he'll be hurt again if he finds out something bad happened to Gabriel, too."

Dean gives Sam a pointed look, then lifts a pot lid and checks on his steaming broccoli. "I get that you want to help him, Sammy, but this isn't the way to do it.."

"He basically told me that he doesn't want to look for Gabriel because he doesn't feel like he can take any more pain." Sam says. "That's practically a direct quote. But, if we hire the investigator ourselves, we can screen what Cas hears. That way if we find out that Gabriel is doing well, we can tell Cas and he can have his brother back in his life. But, if we find out the guy's a crackwhore or a serial killer or something, we don't say anything to him, obviously, so there's no damage done and Cas doesn't get hurt."

"Sammy….." Dean sighs.

"And, I have the investigator's phone number and email address. I found his card on Cas's dresser this morning when he was in the shower-"

"Sam!" Dean admonishes, turning to face his brother, giving him his full attention. "You can't go through his shit like that! How do you think Cas would feel knowing that you waited until he was in the shower and searched our room?"

Sam sighs, and gives Dean his best exasperated look. "Honestly, Dean, if we find Gabriel and everything's good and Cas gets his brother back, I think he'll feel just fine about whatever I had to do to make that happen."

"Really?" Dean asks "You think he'll feel just fine about you snooping through his shit and hiring a private investigator behind his back when he explicitly told you that he doesn't want to look for his brother right now?"

"Ok, fine." Sam gives Dean another put-upon sigh, as if Dean is bothering him with minute and unimportant details. Dean holds back an eyeroll. "I think he'll give me a sternly worded reprimand about privacy and respect, but ultimately, I think he'll get over that and be happy to see his brother again."

"And, even if I agreed to this plan, which I won't, because it's so not cool to keep secrets from people you care about, how do you propose we're going to pay for this?" Dean asks. "I know it cost Cas over a thousand dollars to track down Balthazar. I don't know about you, kiddo, but I don't have that much extra cash lying around."

"I could help pay for it." Sam says.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean feigns surprise. "Did dad leave you a trust fund and not me?"

"Ha-ha." Sam draws each syllable out mockingly. "I have like maybe a hundred dollars or so saved up, and I'm going to start looking for a job in a few weeks when I turn sixteen. Maybe you could put it on a credit card for now, and I could help you pay it off when I start working."

"Uh, that's a hard no." Dean says with a small laugh. He turns toward the cabinets, opens one up, and starts pulling down plates to set the table. "I really appreciate that you're concerned about Cas and that you want to help him." Dean crosses in front of Sam and starts setting the dinner plates out on the table. "I love it actually." He looks toward his brother. "I mean it, Sammy. I love that you and Cas are getting along, and I love that you care about him and want to help him. I know your heart is in the right place, but this isn't the answer. We can't do this behind his back. Cas will look for Gabriel, or any of his other brothers, if and when he feels ready. Trust me on this, ok?"

"What if we'd been separated as kids?" Sam asks. "Wouldn't you have wanted someone to help you track me down if you were too scared of what you'd find to look on your own? I really think this is the right thing for us to do, Dean."

"I know you do, kid." It's Dean's turn to sigh. "But, it isn't. Trust me on this."

"But, Dean-" Sam starts.

"Let me break this down for you, Sammy. Secrets are bad. Going behind the back of someone you care about is bad." Dean says. "We are not doing this. Do you understand me?"

Sam narrows his eyes in annoyance and Dean can't help but be reminded of Castiel. All the kid needs is the accompanying head tilt. "Why do you not care about this, Dean?"

Dean can feel himself starting to get annoyed at the accusation. "Of course, I care about this. I love Cas and I want him to have everything he wants. But, the key words there are everything he wants. This is up to Cas, Sam. You can't make this decision for him. It wouldn't be right." Dean studies his brother for signs that Sam understands his point. "I get that this isn't what you want to hear, but that's the way it is." Dean gives his brother a small smile. ""It was a nice thought, though, Sammy." Dean waits for Sam to return the smile, but the boy remains stone-faced. Dean sighs, and gives in. "Go get washed up for dinner. We're going to eat as soon as Cas gets home."

"Fine, whatever." Dean watches Sam quickly grab his gym bag up off the floor and storm out of the kitchen without making eye contact.