Chapter Notes: Thanks to everyone who is still reading this story and especially those who have been kind and generous enough to leave me reviews. I love hearing from you guys! This chapter picks up directly from the last one and is still part of the second time stamp.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own obsession with Supernatural

Trigger Warning: Talk of alcohol use, mention of past child abuse.

As Sam slowly wakes, he feels the solid comfort of an arm wrapped around his chest, and the same gratitude he feels every time he's lucky enough to be cuddled up with Meg. It still blows his mind most days that someone loves him, and not just someone, but a beautiful, confident, badass of a girl like Meg. Sam has been smitten since the first time he laid eyes on her, with her purple hair and nose ring, sassing their supervisor at the soup kitchen when the guy had given her a hard time for walking into orientation fifteen minutes late. He hadn't really expected someone like her, who was so independent and authentically herself and who didn't give a shit what anyone thought of her, to be interested in someone like him, who after a childhood of moving around and always feeling like the freak of a new kid, tries so hard to fit in and be accepted as normal. He can still remember the first time he told her he loved her, the fear he felt as he laid with her on her dorm bed, cuddling against her from behind and getting the courage to breathe the words into her hair because saying them to her face seemed too scary, petrified that she wouldn't feel the same and wouldn't say it back. And then the greatest-ever, on-top-of-the-world feeling when she had rolled over to face him, a soft smile replacing her usual up-to-no-good smirk, looking more vulnerable than Sam had ever seen her, as she told him she loved him, too, and that she was trusting him not to screw shit up and break her heart.

Sam starts to snuggle backward, the warmth of Meg's body pulling him in. He yawns wide and feels a stretch in his jaw. His eyes open reflexively and he freezes at the sight of Cas, sitting in an armchair, his feet propped up on the edge of the bed, watching Sam with a somber expression, his laptop open on a pillow on his lap. Sam feels his heart race at Cas catching him in bed with his girlfriend and the reprimand that he knows he's in for. He feels confusion spike as he watches Cas's expression shift into compassion instead of stern rebuke.

Then Cas is moving the laptop aside, standing it on one end on the floor, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes earnest and kind, telling him softly. "You're ok, Sam. You're home and you're safe."

And just like that, it all comes back to Sam. The breakup with Meg. Last night at the frat. This morning at the hospital. The ride home with Cas. Sam moves slowly, carefully extricating himself from the arm around him that he now recognizes as Dean's, his brother grunting softly in his sleep at the disturbance.

Sam nods, knowing Cas mistook his fear at being caught with Meg for the same fear the man likely saw on Sam's face earlier in the hospital. "Yeah, thanks." Sam keeps his voice low, matching Cas's, so as not to wake Dean. He feels an overwhelming rush of comfort and security, warm and safe at home in his parents bed, in the company of two people who still love him very much, even if Meg doesn't. He still has this, his family. "Hey, Cas." Sam watches Cas give him an expectant look. "Thanks for coming to the hospital to get me and everything. I know it was a shitty thing for you to have to do in the middle of the night, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate that you did it. And…..." Sam feels himself blushing at his own earnestness, but he wants to finish. Cas deserves to hear it. "And, just…..how much I appreciate you. Not just tonight, but all the time. I'm so sorry, Cas."

Cas gives him a small, appreciative smile, his eyes warm with love. "Oh, my sweet boy, I will always be there for you. Whenever you need me. Even if it's very late and you are very far away."

Sam swallows, trying to tamp down the wave of raw emotion before it overwhelms him. "Thanks."

"But." Cas is speaking firmly now, his expression solemn. "I do not ever." Sam feels himself internally cringe with shame at the emphasis Cas puts on the word ever. "Want what happened last night to happen again. You hurting yourself or ending up in the hospital out of sheer carelessness and disregard for your own wellbeing is unacceptable. Am I making myself clear, Samuel?"

"Yes, Cas." Sam says quietly, feeling every bit a contrite child.

Sam feels the bed dip from movement behind him, and then a light slap land on the side of his head. The contact doesn't hurt, is barely enough to mess up his hair, but Sam feels himself flinch into his pillow anyway. "Ow! Hey!" Sam squawks in protest.

Dean's voice is rough from sleep. "If you ever do anything as stupid as you did last night again, I will kick your ass for real, Sammy."

Sam watches Cas level a disapproving look past him at Dean, and it makes Sam smile. Sam knows that in reality, Cas is the one who kicks his ass, verbally, and holds him accountable, while Dean is the one who tries to lighten the mood and make him feel better.

"What?" Dean's voice is all casual nonchalance behind him. "Oh, c'mon, Cas. Like he wouldn't deserve it?"

"You know my stance on threatening children, Dean." Cas's eyes and tone are indulgent, and miles away from the genuine horror that used to show on the man's face when Dean would joke about beating Sam during their early years of coming together as a family.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam can hear the playfulness in his brother's voice and feels a smile creeping onto his own face, his cheek still pressed into the pillow. Dean puts a hand on Sam's shoulder and shakes him lightly, leaning forward and using a mock-threatening voice to stage whisper in Sam's ear. "Good thing nineteen's not a child, then, huh, Sammy?"

Sam is sore and achy and somehow still exhausted even though it feels like he slept forever. He knows he was an idiot last night, and he still feels heartbroken over losing Meg, and incredibly stupid for what he did to contribute to that outcome, and for almost drinking himself to death. But being home and waking up warm and cozy in his parents' bed, watching them loving each other, knowing that even though they've got to be angry with him right now, he's still loved so much and isn't alone, brings its own kind of comfort and makes everything painful feel a little further away for the moment.

Sam yawns, then smirks as he reaches his arms out in front of him, off the side of the bed, feeling a satisfying stretch in his shoulders as he taunts back at his brother. "Good thing Cas is the one in charge around here then, huh, Dean?"

Sam feels Dean's hand leave his shoulder and movement on the bed as Dean sits up behind him, and then a too hard to be entirely playful smack lands on his ass. He yelps in surprise and feels a spike of real anger as he turns onto his back to shoot Dean an annoyed look and protect himself from further assault. "Jerk!"

Sam watches his brother's face break into a broad grin. Sam doesn't need to look back at Cas to know the man is giving Dean his serious, 'now you're going too far' look, to reign his brother in. As much as Cas has chilled over the years, Sam knows he will never be ok with actual hitting after the way he grew up. "What?" Dean asks innocently, his attention on Cas. "My hand slipped."

"Dean." There's warning in Cas's voice now, the kind usually reserved for Sam when he's in trouble, and Sam feels satisfaction that Dean is getting called out for embarrassing him. "Was that really necessary?"

Dean is unfazed. "You know. It probably wasn't, but it sure made me feel better." Dean, still grinning, looks back down at Sam and pats him roughly on the arm. "C'mon, kiddo. Get your ass out of bed. Let's get this day started at…" Dean glances toward the alarm clock on the nightstand. "Three forty-nine in the afternoon. Jeez!"

Cas starts to stand, shutting his laptop and setting it on the nightstand. "If you two are finished fooling around, I would like us to all go downstairs and discuss what happened last night."

"Yeah." Dean nods, his expression neutral. "Cas is right. All joking about kicking your ass aside, we do need to have a serious conversation. What happened last night was so far from ok…." Sam feels a wave of guilt when Dean breaks eye contact for a moment, looking past him at the wall. "So, c'mon." Dean pats his arm with exaggerated playfulness. "Let's go downstairs and get this taken care of so we can enjoy having you home for the rest of the weekend."

Sam nods, still lying on his back, comfortable, not really wanting to move, but knowing he owes it to them to at least cooperate with what they're asking of him. "Uh, yeah, ok, sure."

"I believe the words you're looking for are yes, Dean." Cas supplies helpfully as he moves the armchair away from the bed, setting it back in its place in the corner of the room.

Sam is surprised at the childish urge to roll his eyes, and he just barely stops himself from acting on the impulse in time. He feels a burst of annoyed resentment at being corrected like a small child, but he doesn't feel like this is the right time to actually challenge Cas on it. "Yes, Dean." He repeats obediently, his eyes still playful as he tries to engage his brother in silently acknowledging the ridiculousness of Cas's scolding.

Dean shows no recognition of the nonverbal communication. He pats Sam on the side, three times, in playfully quick succession. "All right, kid. Let's go. Out of bed, up and at 'em. Take care of whatever you need to do in the bathroom and then get your ass downstairs."

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Sam relieves himself in the bathroom, then washes his face. He's irritated that Cas and Dean think they need to meet downstairs to keep discussing what happened. He's already given multiple heartfelt apologies for his behavior, to Cas at the hospital, to Dean on the phone in the car, and again to Cas just now. He gets that he fucked up, but he resents that Cas and Dean, and he knows it's most likely really coming from Cas, are calling him downstairs to get formally chewed out, as if nothing has changed from when he lived here in high school. As if he wasn't an actual adult now who had spent the better part of a year on his own, taking care of himself and making his own decisions.

Sam dries off his face with a towel and looks at himself in the mirror. He's not proud of himself. Not for cheating on Meg. Or for almost drinking himself to death and winding up in the hospital. Or for how much it rankles him that Dean smacked him on the ass and Cas admonished him to answer his brother with a yes, Dean. He gets that Cas is old fashioned when it comes to how he wants Sam to show respect to him and Dean. And Sam has always capitulated in the past, to make Cas happy, because Cas is a good guy, a good parent, who deserves Sam's respect. But, Sam reasons there has to be a cut off point sometime. He can't go on saying yes, Cas and yes, Dean like an obedient child his whole life, and now, at nineteen years old and finishing up his first year of college, it seems as good a time as any to stop. He doesn't want to disrespect Cas, but he wants to be treated like an adult who made a mistake, not like a stupid little kid who needs to be scolded or punished for his bad behavior. He knows that he needs to behave differently if he wants his parents to treat him like a grown up, and he feels like he should start today. He hangs the towel on the towel rack and sighs as he leaves the bathroom.

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Dean feels an edge of apprehension as they wait for Sam in the kitchen. He isn't actually opposed to Cas's plan, but he knows it isn't something he'd ever try to enforce with Sam on his own. And he doesn't think it's going to go over well with his brother. He worries this weekend might not be made up of the happy family moments and warm fuzzy feels he had been looking forward to with having Sammy home. He remembers laying on his cot at work a few nights ago and feeling selfish for hoping that Meg would decide not to come home with Sam, and now that it looks like he got his wish, all he wants is for Sam to have arrived home, as planned, happy to introduce them to his girlfriend, with no self-destructive behaviors for Dean to worry about. Dean fills a glass from the filtered water pitcher and glances at his husband. The man is sitting at the kitchen table, his head slightly lowered, with a small, pensive frown on his face. Dean wonders what he's thinking, but doesn't want to risk asking when Sam is about to walk in. Dean sighs. He knows that as a nineteen year old living away at school, Sam has more options now than he did when he got in trouble during high school. That he's technically an adult who doesn't need to obediently fall in line with whatever they tell him to do because he lives in their, or really Cas's, house. Sure, they're paying for most of the kid's school, with Sam taking out some loans to fill in the gaps, but Dean doesn't want to be the kind of parent who holds that over Sam's head in order to gain his compliance. Dean feels a little nervous about how this is all going to play out. He's still disappointed at how stupid and careless Sam was last night, but since the moment he had woken up from his after-shift nap to find the kid safe and whole and curled up asleep next to him, Dean has felt nothing but love for his family and gratitude that they're all safe and together. He knows he needs to channel some of the anger he felt when Cas and Sam had first called from the road to let him know Sam was all right and that they were headed home. What Sam did wasn't ok. It could have had very dire, even deadly consequences, and Dean doesn't want to make Cas have to be the heavy as he has so many times when Sam was in trouble in high school, but all Dean feels like doing right now is hugging the shit out of his little brother and keeping him close this weekend while he can.

Dean sets the glass of water down on the kitchen table in front of Sam's seat and settles into the chair across from it, next to Cas, who lays a hand on his thigh and gives him a small, encouraging smile. Dean leans in for a quick, chaste kiss, pulling back just as he hears Sam's footsteps start down the stairs.

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Castiel watches Sam enter the kitchen, still in his pajamas and a hooded sweatshirt, his hair disheveled from his nap, and a sheepish smile on his face.

"All right." Sam says as he pulls out a chair across from Dean and Castiel and takes a seat. "Let me have it. I know you guys are pissed." Sam slouches back in his chair casually, and Castiel feels his annoyance building at the boy's purposeful show of nonchalance. "I just want to say that I know I messed up last night. I get that I was stupid and irresponsible and that I really scared you guys. I'm really sorry for what happened last night, and, I swear, nothing like that will ever happen again. I promise you that I have learned my lesson about letting things go too far when I'm drinking." Sam looks back and forth from Castiel to Dean. "Ok?" He asks. "So, are we all good here?"

Castiel leans forward, incredulous and aggravated at the boy's casual attitude. "Sit up straight, Samuel." He knows he's using the tone that Dean refers to as his 'stern dad voice' and he watches his son's eyes widen slightly in surprise, at both the tone and the command, even as the boy adjusts his positioning to obey. "You are not in control of this conversation and no, we are not all good here." Castiel hears the mocking in the last three words and it feels too close to how Castiel's parents often taunted him in his childhood for him to be entirely comfortable with it. "What happened last night was entirely unacceptable-"

"Do you seriously think I don't know that?" Sam's voice is raised and his countenance changes into one of anger as he quickly leans forward toward Castiel, forearms and palms on the table in front of him. "Do you think I'm so stupid that I think last night was acceptable?" Castiel hears his own mocking tone mirrored back to him and he feels disgusted with himself. "Like I'm just running around today thinking about how acceptable last night was!"

"Have you lost your damn mind, Sammy?" Dean's voice is raised to match Sam's. "You don't talk to him like that. Ever." Castiel watches Sam's expression change again at Dean's scolding, his bravado shifting into something significantly less sure of himself.

"You will mind your tone when you speak to us, Samuel." Castiel feels his anger spiking at the nerve of this child to speak to him like this. His own parents were awful, and Castiel still never would have shown them this type of disrespect. "You are being extremely rude right now. You will apologize for your disrespect and we will move on with this discussion." Castiel wants to check in with Dean, to gauge his reaction to their son's behavior, but he feels his gaze stuck, laser-focused on Sam. "Now, Samuel."

"Fine." Sam huffs, looking down at the table in front of him. He raises his eyes slowly to meet Castiel's. "I'm sorry, Cas. You're right. I was being a jerk." He shifts his gaze to include Dean. "I just feel like the whole dragging me down to the kitchen table to reprimand me like a little kid feels…...unnecessary, and just kind of ridiculous."

"C'mon, Sammy." Dean says. "Do you honestly think we don't have a reason to be pissed right now? You seriously think it's ridiculous that we want to talk to you about what happened?"

"I mean, I get that you guys are pissed, I messed up." Sam runs a hand through his hair quickly, and Castiel recognizes it as a sign of the boy's discomfort. "I get that, like I already said. And I apologized at the hospital. And in the car. And upstairs. But I'm an adult now. I haven't even lived here in like a year. I can learn from my own mistakes without getting scolded like I'm six years old." Sam looks at Cas. "I am sorry for how I spoke to you, Cas. I was being disrespectful and you don't deserve that." Sam sighs. "Especially after everything you did for me last night. And this morning. I really am sorry."

Castiel is glad to hear the sincerity in his child's voice. "Thank you for your apology. I forgive you. And, I love you very much, my sweet boy."

Sam nods and one side of his mouth curves up in a slight, chagrined half smile. "I love you guys, too."

"Great, we all love each other." Dean's voice is back down at its normal register. "Now that that's settled, are you going to sit there and listen to what we have to say without interrupting us?"

Sam nods. "Yeah, of course. I'm sorry."

Castiel watches the boy shove his hands into the front pouch of his hoodie, straightening up slightly as he turns to look at Castiel and lift the glass of water to his lips to take a small sip. Despite the child's contrite expression, Castiel notes the distinct omission of the yes, Dean he would have expected to hear in this situation and it unsettles him. In combination with the absence of the yes, Dean upstairs and the missing yes, Cas in the car earlier, Castiel recognizes that the boy clearly thinks expectations have changed around the respect he needs to show his parents, and Cas wonders if now is the right time to take issue with it. He had spoken with Dean when they had woken up a few hours earlier and had come downstairs for a quick lunch while they let Sam sleep, and they had decided on presenting Sam with a plan devised to ensure his safety during the remaining weeks of his freshman year. Dean had gone back to sleep with Sam while Castiel had opened his laptop to research how other parents had safety planned with their college student children regarding alcohol use.

Castiel takes a deep breath. "Sam, it is not our intention to scold you or treat you like a child. You say you understand that you scared us, but I think Dean will agree with me that a more accurate description would be that we were terrified last night, at the thought of how close we came to losing you. You could have died last night. If campus security had found you later than they did. If you had been laying in a slightly different position and had choked on your own vomit. As your parents, we have a duty to discuss this situation with you and make sure you understand the gravity of your actions and help you plan a strategy to avoid similar situations in the future. I assure you that this doesn't mean we are treating you as we would a child. I would be having a very similar discussion with Dean right now if he had been the one in your shoes last night. As would he with me if I had been the one in the hospital last night. Neither of us would be deterred by the fact that the other is of legal age. We would only be focused on preventing further high risk behaviors from someone we love and cherish, as we are now with you. Think about how you would feel if Dean had almost drunk himself to death last night, or if I had. Tell me, do you honestly believe that in either of those situations, the other two members of our family would let the behaviors go without any sort of discussion or intervention just because Dean and I are legal adults?"

Sam huffs out a breath. "I guess not."

"You guess not?" Dean repeats incredulously.

"I mean, yeah. Ok. Cas is right." Sam admits. "I would have been freaked out last night if I got a call that either of you guys were in the hospital because you…did what I did. And, yeah, I get it. I'm pretty sure I'd want to say something about it, too."

"Then we're all in agreement that this conversation is necessary and reasonable?" Castiel asks.

Sam nods. "Yes, Cas."

Castiel feels himself rewarding the boy with a warm smile for his compliance and respect. "Thank you, Sam." He watches the boy give him a small, almost sad smile in return. "Dean and I have talked and we would like you to commit to not drinking for your last three weeks of school until you return home at the end of the semester." Castiel watches Sam's mouth open to speak and he raises a hand, palm out toward his son to silence him. "The drinking age in Kansas is 21 and you are 19. We understand that college students who are not yet 21 often engage in recreational drinking while they are at school and away from their parents. And, we would be more tolerant of you drinking if you were able to do so in moderation-"

"But, I-" Sam leans forward in his seat, clearly agitated.

Castiel holds up his hand again and Sam stops mid sentence, his mouth still open. "I'm not finished, Samuel. Please show me the respect of waiting until I'm done speaking." Cas waits for the boy to close his mouth and nod at him. "What happened last night, even though it only happened one time, tells us, all of us, that you are not ready to handle the serious responsibility that accompanies drinking alcohol. We would like you to agree to stop using alcohol as we believe that is the most reliable way to avoid a repeat of what happened last night. We would like you to check in with one of us frequently, either over the phone or through text, so that we can verify your sobriety and safeguard your wellbeing. We would like these check ins to occur hourly once you've finished your classes for the day and throughout the entire day on the weekends. We believe this is the best way to help hold you accountable regarding your drinking over these last few weeks of school." Castiel feels pleased with the research he has done on the topic and the straightforwardness with which he has laid out his safety plan for Sam. He wishes his parents had ever tried to work this collaboratively with him as an adolescent instead of just striking him and humiliating him when he had done something wrong, but he can already tell by the resentful look in his son's eye, that his proposed strategy is not going to go over as well with his son as it would have with him. "What are you thinking, Sam? Do you find our proposed safety plan reasonable?"

Sam barks out a disdainful laugh. "No, I don't find it reasonable. I find it very freaking far from reasonable. I'm in college. Everyone drinks in college."

Castiel shakes his head. "That simply isn't true. I didn't drink in college. I didn't try alcohol until I was well over twenty-one and out of school."

"Well, your college experience wasn't exactly normal, was it, Cas?" Sam asks, angry sarcasm heavy in his voice, reminding Castiel of something his parents often said during his childhood, usually to one of his brothers. You have the devil on your tongue, young man, and it needs to be washed clean. "I mean, you did live in a homeless shelter-"

"Watch it, Sam!" Dean raises his voice as Castiel is taken aback by their son's comment. "I'm not going to tell you again."

"Sorry." Sam says, quickly lowering his eyes from Castiel's face to the table, before looking back up at Dean. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah?" Dean asks. "Then I guess you shouldn't have said it like that."

Castiel watches their son' face fall under Dean's admonishment, and he feels a rush of gratitude to Dean for correcting their child while his own mind is still stuck on the nastiness of Sam's tone, the boy's malicious intent hitting him like a slap and taking him momentarily back to the cruelty of his childhood. He knows he isn't getting through to Sam the way he'd like. And he knows this is important enough that he needs to keep trying.

"Sam." Castiel gentles his voice, aiming for less stern and more loving. "This isn't a punishment. I want to make sure you understand that. The strategy Dean and I are proposing is intended to keep you safe during these last few weeks away from home. It is not our intention to shame you in any way or make you feel badly. We only want to keep you safe."

Sam sighs in exasperation. "I don't need you to keep me safe." The boy angrily spits out each word. "You're acting like I have some kind of drinking problem or something." Castiel watches Sam's gaze shoot toward Dean for validation. The boy's lip curls up in annoyance when Dean's expression remains impassive. "I don't have a drinking problem, Dean. You get that, right? I'm not dad! I just had one bad night. This is stupid!"

"No one's saying you have a drinking problem, Sammy." Dean's voice is calm and kind. "But you did almost drink yourself to death last night. Do you honestly think we're overreacting by trying to make sure that doesn't happen again? Because that's all we're asking for here, kid. A little peace of mind that you won't end up back in the hospital, or worse, before school's out." Castiel stares at his husband, watching him speak to their son with firmness and love, and he feels a swell of pride at the parent Dean has become, one that Castiel would have been so grateful to have had as a child. All he has ever wanted for Sam was for the boy to feel that he can do something wrong and still be loved, something Castiel never had in his own childhood.

Sam sighs loudly, his patience obviously running thin. "Look, I get that I messed up. I'm not arguing about that. But, can't you guys just trust that I learned my lesson and that I'm not a complete idiot who's going to run out and do this again?"

Castiel shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Sam. There's far too much at stake here for us to simply trust that you learned your lesson. Up until yesterday, we trusted you to behave responsibly and make good choices while you are at school, including not drinking to the point of endangering yourself or others. But last night we learned that our trust was unfounded." Castiel watches Sam avert his eyes. "We aren't going to make the same mistake again. You are far too precious for us to not take an active role in helping you avoid a repeat of last night. Can you understand that?"

"I get that you guys want to keep me safe." Sam says. Castiel can tell Sam is making an effort to keep his voice even and respectful and he appreciates it. "Of course, I do. But…..what you're talking about, checking up on me like this, every hour or whatever, it's not necessary. I swear. You guys don't need to try to control me like that."

"We aren't trying to control you, kid. Really." Dean says. "If this was something else, if you got drunk and missed a class, or if you were going out so much that your grades started slipping, then yeah, we could probably trust you to handle things on your own, because maybe getting a bad grade or failing a class would be what you need to have happen to motivate you to get your shit together. But, you almost died, Sammy. You could have killed yourself last night." Dean says. "I know you don't like this. I don't expect you to. But, we can't just sit back and hope for the best and watch how this pans out for you. That just isn't an option."

"Fine, but I can't guarantee I'm going to be able to pick up my phone every time you guys call me." Sam says. "I have to study, sometimes with study groups. And, I have to go to the dining hall, and the gym, and the library. I can't just pick up my phone whenever you want me to, if I'm out, or busy, or with people. You guys get that, right?"

"We aren't requiring that you speak to us each time." Castiel explains. "We can call you a certain number of times each evening, maybe once around eight o'clock and once before you go to bed, and we can text you for the rest of the check-ins. We understand that you have a life, but I haven't heard you mention any activities that would keep you from responding to a text. Now that I've clarified what we're expecting, does this sound like something you can manage?"

Sam sighs again, but this time it sounds more like resignation than exasperation to Castiel, and it gives him hope. "I guess so. I mean, it's going to be embarrassing. I spend most of my time with Frankie and even if you text, he's going to wonder who's blowing up my phone every night, especially since me and Meg just broke up. And, it's going to be embarrassing to tell him that my parents feel the need to keep tabs on me like this." Sam sighs again. "But, yeah, I guess it's manageable."

Castiel gives the boy a warm smile. "Thank you, Samuel."

"So, what happens if I don't answer when you call or text me?" Sam huffs out a soft laugh. "Do you guys drive up to school and drag me home?"

"Yep, by your hair." Dean smirks at his brother, and the boy huffs out another quiet laugh. Dean's expression turns serious. "But, how about you don't test us on that?"

"We are serious about this, Sam." Castiel tells his son. "But, we don't wish for this to feel like something we're ordering you to do under threat of punishment or humiliation. We see this as a collaborative effort to make sure you stay safe in an environment that has demonstrably challenged your ability to make good choices." Castiel tilts his head to one side and studies his child as he considers whether to share the alternative strategy with him. Sam looks significantly different than he did at the start of the conversation, his demeanor now appropriately contrite, his head hanging down slightly, his expression solemn, the sleeves of his hoodie pulled down over his hands as his elbows rest on the table in front of him. The words humble and repentant surface in Castiel's mind unbidden and return him to the time and place of his childhood, to the feeling of being physically and verbally beaten into compliance, and it leaves him feeling sickened. He wants to give his child something, some show of trust and love, to leave the boy's ego less battered. "Sam, you should know that we considered asking you to come home on the weekends until the semester ends." Castiel watches his son's eyes widen with alarm and he holds up a hand to signal the boy to remain silent before he can object. "Our rationale was that even though the incident last night occurred on a Thursday, it seems more likely for high risk behavior to occur on a Friday or Saturday night, when you have no classes the following day. We considered asking you to come home on Friday afternoon after your last class, to spend the weekend here with us, and return to school on Sunday afternoon or evening. We rejected that plan as we do believe you have learned from what happened last night and that you can be trusted to be around your friends for these last three weekends of school without repeating the poor decision making that led to your hospitalization last night. We understand that these last few weeks of school are important to you as they are your last chance to spend time with your friends before parting ways for the summer months and we don't wish to impose any excess restrictions on you. We are merely seeking your commitment to abstain from drinking and asking you to hold yourself accountable by responding when we check in with you. Is this something you are willing to agree to?"

Sam sighs. "This whole thing, telling me not to drink, and hourly check-ins, it all feels like excess restrictions to me."

Castiel nods. "I would like to clarify that we are asking you not to drink, not telling you not to. We want to work together for your safety. We understand that we can't make you do anything you don't agree with."

"Yeah, I mean, I appreciate that you're asking and not telling, but it still feels like an order." Sam says. "Like if I say no, because I think it's unnecessary, I'm this jerk who doesn't care about worrying his parents."

"No one thinks you're a jerk, Sammy." Dean's voice is soft with affection, his eyes kind.

"Dean's right." Castiel tells him. "You are our sweet boy. Always. No matter what you've done. We could never see you as a jerk or any other pejorative."

Sam gives them a small, grateful smile. "After what happened last night, I'm a little freaked about drinking right now anyway, so telling you that I'll do my best to not drink doesn't feel like it's going to be a problem right now. And I don't normally ignore it when you guys call or text me, so I guess I won't start now. If I can just give you guys a quick response and not get into a huge discussion when you check in, I guess that shouldn't be a problem, either."

"There you go, kid." Dean gives the boy an encouraging smile. "See how easy it is to make us happy?"

Sam huffs out an amused breath. "Yeah. And, I do get that I messed up. Really bad. I want you guys to know that. And I'm sorry. And, I don't want to worry you guys, obviously. So, yeah, I'll do my best to do what you're asking me to. Ok?"

"That's all we want, Sam." Castiel feels his heart swell with love and gratitude for his son and husband, for the family he's been so blessed to receive.

"So, are we good now?" Sam asks hesitantly, his eyes searching Cas's face. "Because it's really nice to be home, and I really don't want to spend the whole weekend with you guys mad at me. Can that part maybe be over now?" Sam smiles sheepishly. "Please."

Castiel feels a smile stretch across his face as Dean beats him to respond. "Sounds good to me. Being mad at you sucks. What do you think, Cas?"

They both turn toward Castiel expectantly, two beautiful faces that make up Castiel's whole world. "I agree with Dean. Being angry with you does….suck." Castiel pronounces the last word stiffly on purpose, because it always gets a laugh from his husband and son when he attempts to use slang expressions. Now is no exception and Castiel enjoys watching the amused smiles on the faces of his family.

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"So, Sammy, how are you doing with your breakup with Meg?" Dean rinses the dish he's just washed and hands it to Sam. Sam knows that his brother is trying to be subtle, but the sympathy is clear in his voice, and when Sam glances up, the concerned look on Dean's face makes his heart hurt. "Are you doing ok? I know you were really into her."

Sam focuses on the dish in his hand and starts rubbing it dry with a kitchen towel, the use of past tense in Dean's sentence pulling hard at something in his chest. The truth is, he's still really into Meg, and it hurts every time he thinks about her. He's enjoying being home with his parents, cooking dinner as a family, catching up over dinner, and now cleaning up the kitchen together. Between going out with his friends, writing papers and cramming for tests, this is the chillest evening he's had in a long time. He knows that Cas and Dean are going to worry about how he's taking the breakup with Meg, but he isn't sure he's ready to own up to what happened. He knows talking to them about it would probably make him feel better, but he doesn't want them to look at him differently, or think he's a bad person. He feels Cas place a gentle hand on his back as the man stretches around him to place the filtered water pitcher back on the counter.

Sam takes a deep breath in an attempt to center his emotions. He lets out a long, slow sigh. "I'm all right. I mean, it sucks. Cause, yeah, I really liked her. I still do." Sam plays the scene in his mind. He can still picture Meg rolling over to face him, the vulnerability exposed on her face. "She was the first girl I ever loved. The first girl who ever loved me." Sam shrugs his shoulders. "Or at least said she did."

"You know, Sam." Cas's voice is soft and gentle and Sam can't bring himself to look up from what he's doing, or turn to meet Cas's eye. "Just because the relationship ended doesn't mean that Meg didn't love you when you were together. Circumstances and feelings change, but that doesn't mean that she wasn't the first girl who ever loved you."

"Cas is right." Dean says. Sam can tell by his brother's tone that he's being extra careful with Sam's feelings right now, and it makes Sam feel grateful and vulnerable at the same time. "I've loved people that I'm no longer with. You remember Lisa, right? From high school?"

Sam nods, still focused down on the dish he's drying. He gets what his parents are trying to do, but he knows he doesn't deserve it. "Yeah, I remember her."

"I loved her." Dean says. "It didn't matter that we were only sixteen, or that she was one of only a handful of girls I've ever been into. I loved her. Aside from you and dad, she was the most important relationship I had until Cas. Just because it ended doesn't make what I felt for her less real." Dean hands Sam another plate and Sam shifts the now dry plate still in his hand to accept it. Sam doesn't make eye contact with his brother, instead focusing on adding the clean plate to the stack in the cabinet before taking the dish towel to the next one.

Sam takes a deep breath. He knows that what happened is too big, too significant a part of his life story for him to keep from his parents, especially Dean, who he's always told everything to. "Yeah, but Lisa didn't cheat on you."

"Oh, Sam." Cas's voice is full of so much sympathy that Sam realizes how the man took his comment, and knowing he's going to have to clarify himself is almost too much for Sam to take. He can tell that Cas is standing close behind him, but he still can't lift his eyes from the white and blue checked fabric of the dish towel. "Meg cheated on you?"

"Uh, no, that's not what I meant." Sam sighs. "I'm, uh…..I'm actually the one who cheated on her."

"Sammy." The surprise in Dean's voice doesn't quite cover the admonishment and Sam feels a wave of fresh shame over what he's done.

"Can we please not talk about this right now?" Sam sets the last plate in the cabinet and turns to find his parents both staring at him, the sympathy in Cas's eyes and the disappointment in Dean's hard to bear. "I'm still pretty tired and I kind of want to just go up to my room, if that's all right."

Dean frowns. "You slept all day." He glances toward the microwave. "And, it's barely seven-thirty."

The sympathy on Cas's face turns to concern, his brow furrowed with worry. "You're still feeling tired, Sam?" Sam watches Cas raise a hand and reach out to gently lay the back of it against his forehead. It feels cool against his skin. "You do feel a bit warm. Maybe you're coming down with something." Sam feels tears prick his eyes at the kindness he knows he doesn't deserve and he pulls back from Cas's hand to leave the room before he can embarrass himself even more than he already has.

"I'm ok. I'm just going to go up…." He feels real dampness in his eyes now and quickly hugs Cas, then Dean, wrapping his arms around each man and releasing the embrace before either of his parents has time to react and return the hug. "Goodnight guys." Sam hurries from the room feeling like an idiot. He hears Dean say something to Cas too low for him to make out as he jogs up the stairs.

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Dean knocks on Sam's bedroom door and waits for the soft come in from inside before pushing it open. He thinks about how there was never any knocking between him and Sam before they moved in with Cas, and how respecting his little brother's space like this is just one of the many ways that his husband's good qualities have rubbed off on him. Sam is in a tee shirt and pajama pants, laying on his side, his head propped up on one hand, a video playing barely audibly from his phone on the bed in front of him. Dean watches Sam push a button to silence his phone and sit up on the bed, his legs crossed at the ankles, knees out to the sides, like a little kid giving them his full attention, and Dean thinks about how Cas has changed his little brother, too.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean says, aiming for casual neutrality and hoping he doesn't look as worried as he feels. "We saw your light on and just wanted to come in and say goodnight."

"Oh, goodnight." Sam says. Dean can't quite read his brother's mood and he wonders if the boy is trying to mask his feelings, too. Dean is having trouble digesting all the change in perspective he's had forced on him in the last twenty-four hours. He's still trying to come to terms with Sam, who has always been such a good kid, their sweet boy as Cas is so fond of saying, having turned into a college student who cheats on his girlfriend and almost drinks himself to death in the span of one week. He worries that they missed something with Sam, took their eye off him for too long now that he's away at school, and didn't notice what was going on until too late. That the conversation about responsible drinking they had had with him, that Dean had been so proud of, hadn't been anywhere near enough of what Sam needed.

Dean feels Cas rest a hand on his lower back and he moves to stand beside Dean in the doorway. "How are you feeling, Sam? Were you able to get some rest?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam says. "I didn't really sleep, but I rested a little." Sam averts his eyes for a moment, glancing toward the wall.

"I'm sure you needed it after the night you had." Cas says. "The nurse did tell us that you should take it easy for the next couple of days."

"Yeah." Sam says.

"Do you need anything?" Dean asks, Cas's comment about the nurse's recommendations reminding him that Sam should be hydrating but has instead spent the past few hours holed up in his room without fluids. "A glass of water? Some tea?"

"Uh, no thanks." Sam says. "I'm all right. I'm going to go to sleep soon. I, uh, I was going to come find you guys before you went to bed. I just kind of wanted to apologize for downstairs, when I got weirded out when you asked about Meg. And, I just wanted to explain what happened, I guess."

Dean doesn't want to have this whole conversation in the doorway, but before he can say anything about it, he feels Cas's hand leave his back. "May we come in, Sam?" Cas asks. "This seems like it might be a longer conversation."

"Yeah, of course." Sam says, scooting over on the bed until his back is against the headboard.

Dean follows Cas into the room, watching Cas sit on the edge of the kid's bed without asking permission first and he thinks about how much he and Sammy have rubbed off on Cas, too. Dean climbs onto the bed from the foot, sitting between Cas and the wall, facing his brother.

"I just, uh." Sam starts. "I feel really ashamed of what I did. I want you guys to know that. I get how wrong it is to cheat on someone. I know how much I hurt Meg." Sam's voice chokes up on the last word and Dean watches him swallow and take a deep breath as he tries to tamp down his emotions. "She doesn't trust people very easily, and she trusted me. I wrecked that and I really hurt her."

"Hey, people make mistakes, Sammy." Dean tries to offer comfort without sounding like he's minimizing his brother's behavior.

"If you understand how hurtful it is to cheat on someone, why do you think you did it?" Cas's head is tilted to one side as he studies the kid. There is no reproach in his tone, only a desire to understand Sam's behavior, and Dean recognizes the limitations of his own approach in trying to console his brother without first helping the kid process what he's done.

Sam sighs. "I can't really tell you why I did it because I really don't know why. I don't even remember doing it, and I know that doesn't make it any better because I still did it, but I was at Frankie's brother's frat-"

"Did you black out?" Dean feels an uptick in his heart rate. "Are you saying you don't remember cheating on Meg because you were blackout drunk?" Dean's mind is instantly shot back to his childhood, to all the times his dad came home drunk and made some kind of promise, like telling Dean they wouldn't have to move again, that he couldn't recall the next day, or becoming violent and marking Dean with bruises only to accuse Dean later of having received the bruises from fighting at school.

"It wasn't like last night." Sam insists. "I didn't pass out or anything. I was awake the whole time. There are just a few things that happened that I can't remember, like hooking up with Skylar."

"What do you remember, Sam?" Cas asks, his calm tone soothing against Dean's frayed nerves.

"Well." Sam says. "The guys at the frat were having some people over, but it wasn't a huge party or anything. And, it was Sunday night so I thought it would be pretty chill. I don't usually go out on Sundays. I usually stay in and study. I went with Frankie, and I ended up drinking. A lot. And, I remember talking to this girl Skylar from my biology lecture. We usually sit near each other in class and we've talked a little, but I barely even know her, really. I saw her pretty early in the night and we talked for a little bit. Meg wasn't at the party. And, I guess, later, when I was pretty drunk, I kind of…...hooked up with Skylar on a lawn chair in the yard. I really don't remember it, but I know it happened. Frankie saw us. He told me the next day that he tried to get me away from her, but I told him to fuck off and leave us alone." Sam's cheeks color slightly. "Sorry. That's what he said I said. And, this girl that Meg is friends with saw us, too, and told Meg, and then Meg broke up with me the next day. It was awful… I felt so bad. She was pissed. Like, so pissed that I thought she was going to hit me. But, she was so hurt, too, and that felt so much worse." Sam looks down at his hands in his lap. "She, uh, she told me that she wished she'd never met me."

"This is very worrying, Sam." Castiel's expression is solemn, but not judging. "On multiple levels."

"I know." Sam agrees. "I'm sorry."

Cas frowns slightly. "Has this ever happened to you before, that chunks of your evening have been missing from your memory when you're drinking?"

"Uh, there was one other time a few weeks ago." Sam admits hesitantly. "I was at the frat with Frankie and…..I was pretty drunk. The next day Frankie told me that I spilled a drink on this guy at the frat who's kind of a dick. It was an accident, but I guess the guy got all up in my face and wanted to kick my ass, and Frankie's brother had to get in between us and make the guy back off me. Then Frankie took me up to his brother's room to calm down, because he said I was pretty upset about what happened, like I guess I started crying after we got to his brother's room. This is so embarrassing." Sam runs a hand over his face, covering his eyes for a moment. "I woke up on Frankie's brother's floor the next morning. Frankie told me what happened and I seriously thought he was screwing with me until we went downstairs and ran into the guy I spilled the drink on and he apologized for trying to kill me. He was cool about it. He told me that everyone has nights like I did at some point and to just be more careful when I'm drinking."

"Jeez, Sammy." Dean is at a loss for words. How could his little brother, the one person he's been responsible for his whole life, have turned into their father when Dean wasn't looking? How could Dean have dropped his guard and let this happen?

"This ends now, Samuel." Cas says, his voice the low, stern rumble that makes Dean's lower belly flutter when he isn't distracted by concern for Sam. "There will be no more drinking. There will be no more frat. There will be no more high risk behaviors. You will study and do your school work, and you will conduct yourself in a manner that does not endanger yourself or anyone else. Do you understand me?"

Sam looks away for a moment and when he looks back Dean sees a flicker of defiance in Sam's eye that reminds him of how Sam used to look at Cas in their early days as a family. Before Dean can fully register what he's seen, much less react to it, the boy's expression shifts into one of suitably contrite obedience.

"Yes, Cas."