Notes: Sorry this took so long to get posted. I kept thinking of more things I wanted to include, so fair warning, this chapter ended up pretty long. Thank you to everyone who is still reading my little story and especially to those kind and generous souls who have left me comments. I greatly appreciate you guys. I hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own obsession with Supernatural
Trigger Warning: Mentions of drinking and child abuse.
Dean's eyes follow Sam through the window as the kid jogs down the walkway toward the sidewalk, letting himself quickly through the gate, and climbing into the passenger seat of Gavin's car. Dean keeps his eyes focused on the car, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, Sam looking remorsefully back toward the house, a flash of sad puppy eyes in the passenger seat, guilt on the boy's face, anything that would make Dean feel even a little bit better about what just happened. But, all he sees is the back of the boy's head as he greets Gavin and pulls his seatbelt across his body. Then Gavin's car takes off and his brother is gone.
Dean looks toward Cas, who is still turned toward the kitchen doorway where Sam had been, the sauce simmering forgotten on the stove behind him. Cas's face is expressionless, a blank stare in his eyes, and Dean feels something in his chest clench at the familiar shut down look on his husband's face.
"Cas." Dean starts gently, careful to not make anything worse. "He didn't mean that. He's just upset."
Dean watches Cas exhale a breath and nod his head once. He seems to have come back to himself when he turns toward Dean, the fresh hurt clear in his eyes.
"He is upset, yes." Cas agrees, his voice level. "But, I believe he meant what he said."
Cas gives him a soft, sad smile, and Dean knows its purpose is to make Dean feel better, to alleviate the pain he feels at watching his husband's heart break, to relieve Dean of the obligation of taking care of Cas, who he knows doesn't feel like he deserves the care due to guilt he likely feels for his role in upsetting their child. Dean's heart hurts for his husband, and he wants to let Cas know he's there for him.
"I'm sorry Sammy's been such a jerk this weekend. I don't even know what to say. I think he's rattled by what happened. And probably really embarrassed by how stupid he's been, about the drinking and Meg and everything. But, none of that shit makes it ok for him to talk to you the way he just did. I just want you to know that. Or, I know you already know that, but I guess I want you to know that I know it." Dean says. "And I'm pretty sure Sammy knows it, too. I think he's sitting in Gavin's car right now thinking the same thing and feeling like shit about what just happened." Dean can't handle how sad Cas looks, but he has no clue how to make any of this better. "And, I just love you, so much. And, we'll get through this. I just want you to know that, too."
Dean feels like he might have actually chosen the right words when Cas's smile becomes just the slightest degree less pitiful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I love you, too. So very much."
Dean approaches slowly and pulls Cas into a tight hug. He feels Cas's body, warm against his chest, the man's arms snaking around his back in reciprocation. "I bet you get an apology text before Gavin even drops his ass off at school."
Dean feels Cas's head move slowly against his shoulder as the man nods wordlessly. Dean wishes he had something to say that could make any of this better. Dean slowly releases his hold on Cas, and watches the man pull away and turn back toward the stove, looking a little less like a kicked puppy than he did a moment ago. "Let's just finish dinner, Dean."
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Sam feels his stomach lurch as he watches Dean's name light up on his phone. Again. He's had an angry ball of tension in his gut since he left home a few hours ago. He had started out angry, pissed at Cas for trying to control him, but by the time Sam arrived at school, his feelings had shifted to shame and uncertainty and anxiety. The ride up had been good. Gavin is always a fun distraction and they hadn't seen each other in person for a couple of months, so it had been nice to catch up. But, now it's ten o'clock, and Sam is sitting alone in his dorm room on a Saturday night trying to study for his biology final and feeling horrible about everything. His roommate is out, probably with his girlfriend, and Sam had texted Frankie, his closest friend at school, when he got back to let him know that he was back from the weekend early and see if Frankie wanted to hang out. Frankie had replied enthusiastically and invited Sam to come up to his room where he was pregaming with a few friends before heading over to Frankie's brother's frat later. Sam had been proud of himself for passing, texting that he wasn't up for the frat tonight, that he was just going to stay in, catch up on some studying and go to bed early.
But, now Sam regrets not meeting up with his friends because sitting alone with his thoughts really sucks. So does ignoring Dean and Cas's texts and calls. There have been a bunch of them, from both his parents at first, but only Dean is still trying. Sam doesn't know what makes him feel worse, that Cas has given up trying to reach him, or that Dean hasn't. The texts and voicemails from Dean had started out angry, with lots of threats, telling Sam to listen up, that he should be ashamed of himself for how he's been acting, that he better call Cas with an apology and not make him come up there and drag his ass home to apologize in person. Then they shifted into resignation, with lots of audible sighs, telling Sam that he gets it, that Sam feels like they treated him like a little kid, that they didn't mean to upset him, that they're just so freaking worried about him because of what happened, what's been happening with his drinking, that if it feels like they overreacted, it was only out of concern. The last few have been the hardest to ignore, with Dean telling Sam he loves him, and pleading for Sam to call back, or even just shoot him a text to let Dean know he's ok, that after a lifetime of taking care of his little brother, he just wants to hear that Sam is all right. In comparison, Cas has left only one voicemail, his tone just the softer side of neutral as he states that he doesn't like how they left things between them, that it was not his intention to hurt or offend Sam, that he's sorry and he would appreciate the opportunity to speak when Sam has a chance, and two brief text messages, one telling Sam that he loves him very much and asking him to call him, and the other asking Sam to please be safe and make good choices, to work hard and be kind, calling Sam his sweet boy.
Sam still believes that Cas is overreacting and being a control freak, that the hourly check-ins Cas wants are ridiculous, and that wanting Sam to come home on the weekends is completely unnecessary and punitive in nature, even if Cas won't admit it. Sam honestly gets that he fucked up. That he could have died. He can't remember the last time he felt as scared and out of control as he felt when he woke up in the hospital, nauseas, hooked up to IV's, with very little memory of the previous night, and wanting his parents like a little kid. But, he learned his lesson and he doesn't get why Cas can't trust him to do better, why the man insists on treating him like he's some kind of moron who's going to run right back out and drink himself to death, as if his recent experience taught him nothing. How could it not? The last time his world had felt that out of control had been when his dad died. Sam's mind goes to his parting shot at Cas, telling the guy that he isn't a child and that Cas isn't his father. Sam thinks about how they hadn't even been discussing their relationship, that Sam honestly can't remember a time when Cas has ever referred to himself as anything more specific than his 'parent,' always careful not to tread on Sam's relationship with his father. It isn't lost on Sam that he can be unnecessary and punitive, too.
He thinks about the meltdown he had in the kitchen when he told his parents he was leaving. He knows Cas has likely categorized Sam's behavior as a tantrum and the description feels so embarrassingly accurate that Sam doesn't feel like he can face them. Sam's mind flashes back to all the instances during his early teens when he had exploded at his father in a similar manner, and how differently those encounters had often ended. At best, Sam would have had his father up in his face, intimidating him with angry yelling and threats until he backed down, and at worst, with his father really losing it on him, shoving him or smacking him across the face, Sam crying his eyes out in hurt frustration, Dean trying to break them up and their father turning on him, too.
Sam feels a wave of guilt at having been the one to lose control this time, escalating to yelling, ranting and insults, while Cas remained infuriatingly calm, his voice only slightly raised as he tried to speak to Sam reasonably. His mind goes back to their argument on the hiking trail. He feels sick at the idea that Cas thought he could have forced himself on Skylar, but if he's being honest, he can kind of understand the questions in light of the circumstances. He hadn't known what he was doing that night with Skylar, hadn't even remembered the situation the next day. He gets how something really bad could have happened. He feels sick at the idea, and he knows that Cas's line of inquiry came from a place of concern and he wonders if he may have overreacted. He feels ashamed of the way he lost it on Cas. He knows he had gotten too close and been too aggressive for his outburst to feel anywhere near ok. He can still picture the quick flash of a look in Cas's eyes, the same look he'd seen on the veteran in the home supply store with Gavin when the man had taken the bucket off his head, a glimpse of fear more intense than anything Sam has experienced. And the way Cas had composed himself and essentially shut down immediately after, something Sam has learned to recognize as a defense mechanism Cas developed during his messed up childhood. The memory leaves him feeling like a bully. Even when Cas is angry, even when Sam has done something truly bad, Cas never tries to intimidate him, and Sam feels horrible for not being capable of the same consideration toward Cas. He thinks about the time he was fifteen, when he had lashed out at Cas when he thought he hadn't made the basketball team, and the way he'd flinched into the car window when Cas reached out a hand to take his phone and for that split second, Sam had been back with his dad, about to get smacked in the face. Sam knows that Cas's childhood was a million times worse than his own and he feels like an asshole for not treating Cas more carefully. He thinks about the walk down the mountain a few feet behind his parents, ashamed of himself for his outburst, and feeling even worse now when he thinks about how quickly that shame reverted back to anger when Cas reprimanded him in the car.
Sam watches Dean's name flash on his phone again and he waits out the ringing. Once the phone goes silent, Sam picks it up, his heart hurting, his stomach flipping. He sees the voicemail symbol light up a few seconds later but he can't bear to listen to another message from his brother. He types out a quick text, I'm ok, Dean. I'm turning off my phone. Sam's mind turns to Meg, not for the first time tonight, and his chest clenches with a fresh wave of grief at his loss. He can't take any more of this night, but he knows he's not going to be able to sleep anytime soon. He scrolls down to Frankie's number and sends out another text, Hey, I changed my mind. Have you guys left yet?
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Dean listens to Cas sigh quietly in bed next to him. The room is dark and Cas is turned away from him, so Dean can't read his face, but the soft exhale goes right to Dean's heart. It's already been a long fucking week and it's only Tuesday night. They haven't heard anything from Sam since his brief text on Saturday, when Sam had basically told Dean that he was fine and to fuck off. Part of Dean wants to switch his shift at work and just drive up to Sam's school tomorrow and drag the kid back home kicking and screaming to fix shit with Cas. He brought it up to Cas earlier and his husband is of the opinion that forcing Sam back home to apologize isn't the answer and will only reinforce to Sam that they see him as a child and want to control him. The logical side of Dean agrees with him, but the pissed off side of him, the side that knows how much his brother hurt Cas, would love nothing more than to grab the kid, throw his ass in the car and lock him in his room until he's ready to make up with Cas.
"I was too hard on him in the car today." It's barely more than a whisper, but the hurt and guilt in Cas's voice feel palpable in the dark. Dean tightens his hold around his husband's chest and inches his body forward in the dark, until he can't get any closer, his chest pressed against Cas's back. Dean can admit that Cas had been surprisingly harsh with Sam in the car after the hike and that it probably fueled Sam's outburst in the kitchen, but it's not like the kid hadn't deserved it after the way he had blown up at Cas on the hiking trail.
"He was being a little shit." Dean's voice is low, matching Cas's. "He had it coming for the way he talked to you."
Dean can feel Cas shake his head against the pillow, the hair on the back of the man's head brushing lightly against Dean's forehead with the movement. "It was too much. How I spoke to him…..I wasn't…..respectful of his feelings. I didn't listen to him. He was right about that."
"That doesn't make it ok for him to say what he did to you, Cas." Dean moves his palm gently in a small circle on his husband's chest. "He was way outta line. And, I know he realized it the second he said it. I could see it all over his face." Dean hadn't seen the instant remorse he had wanted to see on Sam's faith, only shock at what the boy had said, but Dean had to believe that meant something.
"He wasn't wrong about what he said to me. Sam is no longer a child, and I'm not his father."
"You kind of are, no matter what he says." Dean whispers the words. "And, I know he thinks that, too, Cas. I know it might not feel like it right now, but he does. He told me that he still thinks of me as his brother, but he thinks of you as his dad. He said that. Used that exact word, dad."
"Thank you for saying that, Dean."
Dean huffs out a quiet breath. "He also told me that sometimes he thinks of you as his dad and me as his mom, but I'm pretty sure he was just being a smartass when he said that."
Dean listens for Cas's laugh in the dark and feels his heart sink a little when the sound doesn't come.
"I've always been very careful to only refer to myself as Sam's parent, never his father. I've never wanted to make any assumptions that might upset him." Dean thinks back to the first time Cas referred to the three of them as a family and how badly Sam had reacted to the statement. He knows that had to have stayed with Cas and he wonders if his husband's mind has gone back there now, too.
"I know you have, Cas." Dean whispers into the back of Cas's neck, his breath warm against his own face in the close space. "And, I know he appreciates that. I think he appreciates how careful you are with him, in general. You're never mean to him. You've never yelled at him or hit him. You're always fair with him, even when he does something wrong, and you always take his feelings into consideration."
"He didn't feel like I was on his side today. I made our child feel like he didn't have my support. I made him feel like I didn't trust him. He felt attacked in his own home." Cas pauses, and when he speaks again, his voice is low and raw. "I treated him the way my parents treated me."
Dean takes a moment to think about Cas's statement. He can't let the unfair comparison go unchecked, but he understands that Cas's family is a sensitive topic for his husband and he wants to make sure to be as sensitive as possible while addressing it.
"Cas?" Dean starts tentatively.
"Hmmm?"
Dean gentles his tone and squeezes his arm more tightly around his husband's chest. "I'm not ok with you comparing yourself to your parents. Not after all the stories you've told me." Dean pauses to give Cas a chance to agree with him and retract his comment. "Don't you think your parents would have beat the shit out of you if you'd done what Sammy did? And, I mean all of it. The drinking. Hooking up with that girl at the party. His attitude. From what I understand about your family, I'm thinking Sam's behavior over the past few weeks would have gotten him several really brutal ass whoopings if he lived with your parents. And, you haven't laid a hand on him, or even yelled at him. So, I'm not seeing a whole lot of similarities here. Am I looking at it wrong?"
Dean feels Cas's head shake slightly. "Not that part. Not the physical punishments. But, making me feel bad about myself. Making me feel like I had no value, like I was a stupid, worthless child who couldn't be trusted to think for myself and needed them to control my every move." Dean doesn't consider himself a violent person, but stories about Cas's parents bring out the ugly urge to track them down and seriously hurt them. "I hate that I made Sam feel that way today. I hate that I didn't handle this better."
"Hey, if he feels like we don't trust him to think for himself, it's because he's given us good reason not to. That's on him, not you. And, you weren't trying to control his every move. You were trying to keep him safe. I think he'll get that once he gets a little distance from this and can think about what happened with less…emotion and hostility."
"I went too far. The check-ins should have been enough. Insisting that he come home on weekends was too much. It was too…..severe. It felt like a punishment to him. He thinks I've overstepped and I think he might be right."
"He's our kid, Cas, and he almost killed himself. I disagree with the idea that we can possibly overstep in this situation."
"I'm not saying we shouldn't have done anything, but I think I should have trusted him more. I think I acted based on fear."
"Yeah, of course, you did. We both did. With good reason. What Sam did was terrifying."
"I know, it's just…" Dean listens to Cas sigh softly, and the sad sound goes right to his heart. "I'm just second guessing everything I've done this weekend. My relationship with Sam felt solid two days ago and now it's deteriorated to the point where he can't stand to be in the same house as me and he won't return my calls or texts."
"At least he finally texted us on Saturday so we know he got back to school all right." Dean cringes at his use of 'us'. It isn't accurate and Dean knows that Cas is particularly sensitive to the fact that Sam replied to Dean alone and not both of them. Dean had called and texted Sam several more times since then, all with no response. He knows it's been the same for Cas and that his husband is extremely hurt by being shut out.
Cas sighs. "I'm just trying to think of what I could have done differently, what I could still do differently to repair the damage when he's ready to speak to us again."
"This isn't just on you, Cas. I didn't handle things all that great either." Dean thinks about his own behavior on the hike. "I shouldn't have shoved him. I regret doing that. A lot. It didn't help anything, and I know it would have made me feel like shit if I were him." Dean considers that statement for a moment. "I know I did feel like shit when I was him and my dad was the one doing the shoving."
"It does concern me that your instinct is to put your hands on Sam when you're upset or frustrated with him. I understand that it can be difficult to…distance yourself from what you were exposed to with your father, but I would like to see you control yourself better with him."
Dean feels a wave of shame at Cas's words. "I know. I would like to see me control myself better, too. I just got a little protective of you, I guess. He was actually yelling at you. Like he'd lost his damn mind. He was totally out of line."
"So you chose to join him on the other side of that line?" Cas asks, the previous judgment gone from his voice, replaced by the subtlest hint of playful scolding.
Dean huffs out a soft laugh. "Yeah, it was dumb. I get that. I know that I have damage to repair with him, too. And, I'll tell him I'm sorry if and when he's willing to listen to us again."
Cas nods. "He'll be willing to listen to you again soon. Your relationship with Sam will always be solid. You practically raised him. You have a biological connection with him, and you share so much history with him that I'm sure he can't imagine his life without you in it anymore than you can imagine yours without him."
"At this point, I really don't think Sammy can imagine his life without you in it, either, Cas." Dean says.
"It's different." Cas repeats. "You can't push him away. He'll always come back to you. You're his real family. I'm not-"
Dean's hand raises from Cas's chest, and with no input from his brain, his palm connects sharply with Cas's pajama pant covered ass cheek. Cas goes silent mid sentence, and Dean feels himself freeze at the realization of what he's done. He's never done anything like this to Cas before and he isn't quite sure where the instinct came from, other than understanding that it's what he would have wanted from Cas if the situation was reversed and he was feeling guilty and sorry for himself. He goes into an instant panic that he did the absolutely wrong thing to his husband, and during a conversation that involved the past abuse the guy suffered during his childhood and Dean's inappropriate proclivity for hitting his brother, no less. He feels like an idiot.
Cas turns his head away from the pillow, revealing a partial profile to Dean in the soft glow of the streetlight slipping in around the side of the window shade. "Did you…..did you just…..spank me, sweetheart?"
Cas sounds equal parts amused and perplexed, and Dean feels a rush of relief. It feels like a switch has been flipped and Dean feels grateful for the reprieve from the same conversation they seem to be stuck on having since Sam left on Saturday.
"Um….no?" Dean infuses the words with mischievous teasing.
Cas huffs out a soft breath and starts to adjust his positioning. Dean eases back slightly to allow him space to roll over. Cas shifts until he's facing Dean, their faces a few inches apart on their pillows.
"No?" Cas raises one eyebrow slightly in playful questioning. "Really?"
Dean feels a sheepish grin forming on his face, and it feels so good to get a break from the constant worry that has consumed the last couple of days since Sam's hospitalization.
"Uh, maybe a little." Dean flashes Cas his most charming grin. "Now that I think about it, there could have been one teeny, tiny, little spank. But, I'm happy to kiss it better if you want." Dean pauses before giving Cas a more serious answer. "I guess I didn't like hearing you say that you're not Sam's family. It made me want to knock some sense into you."
"I see." Cas says, a smile playing across his lips. "And, is that how we behave in this house when we hear something we don't like?"
"No, Cas." Dean tries to play contrite, but has a hard time tamping down the grin. "It's not. It was very naughty of me."
"It was, indeed." Cas leans in and plants a chaste kiss on Dean's forehead. Dean feels Cas's palm gently cup the swell of his ass. Cas squeezes, and Dean gasps softly. "And what happens to naughty little boys who can't keep their hands to themselves in this house?"
"Mmm…." Dean stops trying to look guilty and lets his grin stretch so wide that his cheeks ache. "They get spankin's."
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Thursday afternoon finds Sam sitting in a history lecture trying to pay attention since his final exams are only a couple of weeks away, but as much as he tries to focus, he knows he's missing most of what's being said. He slides his phone out of his pocket and checks the screen. No new messages. The calls and texts from his parents stopped yesterday, with one final voicemail from Cas explaining that they are going to give Sam space, that they love him and look forward to hearing from Sam whenever he's ready to speak to them, and asking Sam to be safe and make good choices. The knots of stress in his stomach have only intensified since he listened to the message last night, to the point where Sam can't eat more than a few bites of anything without feeling sick. And it's not that he doesn't believe what Cas said, but he can't seem to keep from checking his phone every few minutes anyway, just in case his parents change their minds.
Sam has the horrible feeling that he's painted himself into a corner by not responding for so long. That he's made everything worse by avoiding his parents instead of dealing with what happened right away. His mind goes back to sitting at the kitchen table getting chewed out by Dean for exploding at Cas the night he thought he hadn't made the basketball team his sophomore year of high school. He can hear Dean in his head admonishing him for how he treated Cas, and if you do something wrong, you find Cas and apologize like a man and make things right. You don't hide in your room like a little kid and wait for me to drag you down here to apologize. It's embarrassing to think he's just as much of a coward now as he was at fifteen. He spent most of Sunday on edge, expecting Dean around every corner, ready to ambush him on campus with an order to get his ass home, or drag him to the car by his hair if he resisted. He's relieved that his brother didn't come after him, that Cas and Dean respected his decision to return to school, even if it was against their wishes, but there's a small, childish part of him that kind of wishes Dean had come up to school and forced him home. It would have been humiliating, and he would have hated it and resented Dean for treating him like a kid, but he knows he would have made up with Cas by now and he wouldn't still be living with this stress and the awful, sick feeling in his gut.
The same way Sam knows that the hourly check-in's were Cas's idea, he also knows that Cas was likely the voice of reason that kept Dean from coming up to school after him. He feels a mix of gratitude and resentment at Cas for always being so rational and level-headed. All his thoughts of Cas since leaving the house on Saturday have been tinged with the same sense of fear that his words might have done irrevocable damage to their relationship. He knows that Dean will accept him back and love him unconditionally no matter what he's done. He thinks about the precedent set when he ran away from home, and from Dean, at thirteen, in protest of another upcoming move. Sam had taken off on Dean's watch, while their dad was off chasing a fugitive, and had stayed with a friend that Dean didn't know for three whole days, ignoring all of Dean's increasingly distraught calls and texts out of anger at Dean for not taking his side against their dad about moving. He can still remember how horrible and scared he felt when he had slunk home with his tail between his legs, after his friend's mother finally insisted he return to his family. Sam had been sure his behavior would be a breaking point for Dean, that he had ruined their relationship, that Dean wouldn't love him any more, that Dean would lose it on him the way their dad sometimes did, that Dean would yell at him and smack him for what he'd done and how much he had worried his brother. But Dean had grabbed him as soon as he entered the apartment, hugging so tightly Sam could barely breathe, telling him how worried he was, how much he loved him, and how good it was to see him. Sam had apologized and cried like a baby, and when they pulled back from the hug, he could see that his brother's eyes were wet, too. He knew what to expect from Dean. Dean was his in a way that Cas wasn't. Dean was his safe person, someone he'd had since birth, who had been through everything with him and always stood by him, who he couldn't push away if he tried. It was Cas's reaction he was most worried about. It was Cas who was causing the pit in Sam's stomach.
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Castiel is packing up his things to leave the office at the end of the day Friday. He takes one last look at his cell phone before slipping it into his briefcase. They still haven't heard from Sam since his very brief text the previous weekend, a text that was pointedly sent to Dean and only Dean, an aberration from the three-way chat they usually use when texting each other. Castiel hates that tomorrow will mark a full week of no contact with his son, something he would have found impossible to imagine two weeks, or a year, or three years ago. It feels surreal that he's angered his child enough to get cut out of his life like this. Castiel has worked so hard to be a good parent to Sam, to treat the child with care and empathy from the moment the boy entered his home four years ago. He has done his best to be fair, and considerate, and above all else, kind and loving. To support Sam's interests, guide him in his moral development and discipline him with love instead of fear. His top priority has always been to provide Sam with the things he had not received from his own parents, safety, affection and compassion. He had wanted more than anything to make Sam feel like a loved and cherished child. But despite all his efforts to give Sam something better than how he was raised, his loved and cherished child is choosing to pull away from him the same way Balthazar had from Castiel's parents, who had repeatedly beat and shamed them, hurting and humiliating them in the cruelest of ways. It feels as if all the goodwill and kindness that Castiel has accrued over the years have not amounted to much, and it hurts more than he ever thought Sam would hurt him. Castiel knows that in Sam's shoes, he would feel extremely grateful to receive the type of parental kindness and concern that Castiel offers the boy, instead of the sharp scoldings and physical punishments that were so frequent in his own childhood. He doesn't understand why Sam doesn't show more gratitude for him as a parent. The thought leaves him with an instant feeling of shame at the pridefulness of expecting gratitude from his child for the good treatment that every child deserves. Castiel sighs. He wonders if he will ever really shake the lingering remnants of his upbringing and be able to feel like a normal person, instead of feeling that he always needs to toe the line of humility that was instilled in him during his childhood. Castiel closes his briefcase and stands to leave.
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Dean has just walked in the door from a late afternoon run and is gulping down a glass of water in the kitchen, drenched in sweat but feeling better and more clear headed than he has all week, when he hears the front door open. He sets his empty glass down on the counter and tears a paper towel off the roll to quickly wipe off his face. He balls up the paper towel and tosses it into the garbage before heading into the living room to greet his husband.
Dean stops short at the sight of his little brother, standing just a few feet from the door, a backpack slung over one shoulder, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, a nervous expression on his face.
"You came home." Dean isn't sure if it's a question or just a statement of the obvious but it's all he can think to say.
"Yeah." Dean watches a flicker of embarrassment cross the kid's face. "I, uh, I hate how I left things with Cas."
Dean lets out a breath. "Yeah, so do I."
"And, well, he told me to come home after my Friday classes were done." The boy shrugs uncomfortably, then takes his hands out of his pockets and pushes a too long strand of hair behind his ear with one hand. "So, I figured I should. And I thought it would be good to, you know, talk in person, and apologize."
"You're here to apologize to Cas?" Dean asks.
Sam nods. "Yeah, but not just him. I know I owe you an apology, too. And, I really am sorry for how I acted last weekend, Dean. And for not talking to you all week, or even texting you back. I know that wasn't ok. I know you were worried and I should have picked up the phone or answered your texts. I know I'd feel like shit if you ever shut me out like that. I'm really sorry."
Dean feels himself getting emotional with relief. It isn't that he thought Sam would ice them out forever, but he hadn't expected the ice to thaw so quickly, or for his little brother to dutifully return home on the day and time that Cas had asked him to. He knows they still need to further address Sam's issues with drinking, and how he had spoken to Cas, but Sam willingly coming home, on his own, feels like the best possible start. "It's ok, Sammy."
Dean takes in the small, sad smile on his brother's face. "I know it's not, Dean. I was awful last weekend."
Dean nods his head slowly, hoping his eyes are kind and forgiving enough to show his brother all the love he feels for him right now. "Yeah, I'm not going to argue with you there. I guess what I really mean is that we're ok."
Sam's smile shifts into something a little less sad. "Thanks."
"You don't have to thank me. It's a given." Dean starts to choke up, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse with emotion. "I hope you know that. We're always ok, you and me. You can always talk to me. Always. I never want you to feel like you can't. I never want you to be afraid to face me, no matter what you've done. You get that, right, kiddo?"
Sam's eyes are shining with unshed tears. He nods his head quickly. "Yeah, I do, Dean. And, I'm just….really grateful that we have that."
"I am, too." Dean does his best to tamp down his emotions as he gives his brother a warm smirk. "Now, get your ass over here so I can smack you around for ignoring me all week."
Sam huffs out a soft laugh, sets his backpack on the floor, and walks quickly toward his brother. Dean takes two steps forward to meet the kid, wrapping his arms around him. He lifts a hand to lightly tap his brother on the back of his head, getting another soft laugh out of the kid before crushing him into a tight hug. "I love you, Sammy."
"I love you, too, Dean."
Dean registers how he has to reach up now, to hug his baby brother, and how the kid's arms wrapped around him in reciprocation feel much more like hugging another adult than a child. He tries not to get even more emotional.
He hears Sam snicker next to his ear. "You stink, Dean. You're getting me all gross and sweaty."
Dean is feeling playful as he loosens his grip on his brother. Just as Sam starts to pull back from the hug, Dean launches himself at his brother again, pulling him roughly against his chest. The boy huffs out a surprised "ooph."
Dean grins. "Yeah, well, consider that your punishment."
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Castiel spots Sam's car as he approaches the house, and he feels an instant rush of nerves. He passes the driveway and parks on the street behind Sam's car, his instinct to keep the driveway free in case Sam wants to play basketball kicking in automatically. Cas sits in his car a moment, looking toward the house, trying to compose himself before going inside. It's still light out and the shades have not been drawn yet and Cas can see his husband and son sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, a bottle of beer in front of Dean, a glass of water next to Sam. Even after a week of thinking about nothing but Sam, Cas doesn't feel ready for this. All his options run through his head, going in stern and demanding an apology to try to restore the appropriate parent child dynamic between them, approaching cautiously and freezing Sam out until the boy apologizes on his own to protect himself from further hurt and give the boy a taste of his own medicine, or rushing in with forgiveness and love and hugs at the risk of appearing to minimize the boy's bad behavior. Castiel feels intrinsically unprepared for this encounter and wishes, not for the first time since he started parenting Sam, that he had some kind of positive modeling from his childhood to inform his parenting decisions, instead of just the obvious knowledge to not approach situations as his parents had, with the intent to physically and emotionally harm his child. Cas debates circling the block to give himself a moment to think, but before he can decide, Dean spots him and raises a hand in greeting, a smile on his face. Then Sam is turning to follow Dean's gaze, and the look of trepidation on his child's face melts Cas's heart and makes the decision for him. He lifts a hand in return and shuts off the car.
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Sam gets to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans, feeling a rush of nerves as he hears Cas's key in the front door. Sam takes a deep, steadying breath. He wants to show Cas the respect of meeting him in the living room, but can't seem to make his feet move. Then Cas is there in the doorway to the kitchen, looking tired and slightly rumpled in his work clothes and trenchcoat. Sam takes in the genuine warmth and love on the man's face, instead of the shut-down expressionlessness he had feared would be waiting for him, and his heart swells with hope.
"I'm sorry, Cas." Sam feels his eyes welling with tears for the second time since arriving home. "I'm so sorry for everything." Sam takes two hesitant steps forward, then stops. "Is it ok if I hug you?"
Cas lifts his arms, holding them out toward Sam with a warm smile. "Come here." Then Sam is rushing to Cas, wrapping his arms around the man, burying his face in his neck and squeezing him as hard as he can. He feels Cas hugging him back and a hand gently landing on the back of his head. "That, my sweet boy, is a question you never need to ask me."
Sam hears Cas huff out a quiet breath, then feels Dean join their hug, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and planting a kiss on the side of his head with an exaggerated "mwah" smacking sound. After a solid week of tension, Sam feels his body finally start to unclench. He's so grateful that he came home.
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They're sitting in the living room having a serious conversation. Sam is sitting in the armchair, shoes off, one leg bent sideways on the chair, the foot tucked under him, leaning forward attentively. Cas is sitting at one end of the couch, his trenchcoat off, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, looking adorably earnest. And Dean is sitting on the couch between them, so happy to have his family in the same room and willing to talk through their collective shit. Sam had sat quietly at first as if waiting to get reprimanded, but Cas has surprised them both by thanking Sam for coming home and letting him lead the conversation.
"So, I've been doing a lot of thinking and I just wanted to say that you guys were right about a lot of stuff." Sam is saying. "And, I'm taking everything you guys said seriously. That's why I came home. I, uh….I think I need to stop drinking and I don't really trust myself, right now, to do that at school, either. I think maybe you were right, that it's better for me to come home, and let you guys help hold me accountable for…..stuff."
"I'm glad to hear this, Sam." Cas is all love and understanding, and Dean watches his brother soaking up the parental attention. "May I ask what caused this shift in your thinking?"
Sam nods. "Yeah, of course, Cas. I guess I just thought about what you guys said to me last weekend, and I mean, it's not like I didn't already know stuff was getting kind of…..out of control, with my drinking and blacking out and everything. And, I mean, it's not like I was drinking all the time. I wasn't. I was only going to the frat with Frankie like a couple nights a week, mostly on weekends or the occasional Thursday, and I was still going to all my classes and getting my work done."
"Yeah, your grades definitely aren't the problem." Dean says. "We know that you're still taking school seriously."
"Yeah." Sam looks at Dean and quickly runs a hand through his hair. "And, I think my grades helped me convince myself that there wasn't a problem. That my drinking was just normal college stuff. Like, even when you guys told me that the hourly check-ins needed to start right after classes, it felt stupid-." Sam's eyes dart quickly to Cas. Dean's gaze follows and he finds no sign of reprimand on his husband's face. "Sorry." Sam continues. "I just mean it felt unnecessary because I have honestly never started drinking in the afternoon after classes. And, I felt like that, and keeping my grades up, meant there wasn't a problem. But, uh….." Sam looks down at the coffee table in front of them for a moment before looking back up. "I kind of think now that the issue might be that on those couple of nights a week that I am drinking, or was drinking, I don't seem to have a lot of self control, or know when to stop. We can walk to the frat from campus, so we don't need a designated driver or anything, and I was thinking about it this week and I can't think of a single time in the past couple of months when I went out and just got buzzed without getting completely drunk. And, I'm thinking that maybe that's a problem, and that I need to deal with it."
"I appreciate that you've engaged in some introspection about your situation, Sam." Cas says. "And, I think your perspective sounds very insightful and mature."
Sam nods, his expression somber, but Dean can tell the kid appreciates Cas's validation.
"We will support you in any way we can in addressing this problem." Cas tells Sam. "We are here for you and we only want you to be safe and healthy and happy. You understand that, don't you, Sam?"
"Yes, Cas. I do." Sam looks away again and this time Dean watches a flash of guilt cross the kid's face. He wonders if Sam's going to apologize for telling Cas he isn't his father. "And, uh, I have something else I need to tell you. I guess this was what really made me realize that my drinking might be a problem." Dean braces himself for something worse, a DUI arrest that the kid hasn't told them about, a drunken fight or accident that resulted in someone being injured. Sam looks back toward them. "When I went back to school on Saturday, I was pretty freaked about ending up in the hospital. I mean, that was really scary for me, and I honestly planned to take a break from drinking, like I told you guys I would… And, I was going to just stay in my dorm room and catch up on some work and study for finals. But, I felt so bad about how I acted when I was here, and I still just feel so awful about Meg breaking up with me and what I did to her, and I miss her so much." Sam's voice cracks and he looks down for a moment.
"You ok, Sammy?" Dean knows that his brother deserved to get dumped for what he did to this girl, but it still hurts him to the kid in pain.
Sam nods and wipes quickly at one eye. "Yeah, I'm ok…..So, uh, I was sitting in my dorm and I couldn't take how I felt, about you guys and Meg and everything. And, I ended up going to the frat with Frankie and some other guys, and….I got…pretty trashed. I just set out to have a couple of drinks and take my mind off everything. But, I ended up so drunk that Frankie's brother let me and Frankie sleep on his floor again. I didn't mean to. It just kind of happened. And, the next morning I felt like crap, and everything just felt really out of control….And, the more I thought about it, the more I thought I should come home."
"Thank you for telling us that, Sam." Cas says. "I appreciate how forthcoming you're being in this conversation."
Sam nods. "Yeah, I just figured I don't want to keep any more secrets from you guys. That it would be easier, and better I guess, for me to be honest with you guys so you know what's going on with me."
Dean gives his brother a small smile. "We do always like knowing what's going on with you, kiddo. We're going to worry about you either way, but I'd much rather be an informed worrier."
"I agree with Dean." Cas says. "And, I want to make it clear that our purpose is not to punish you, but to help you deal with your problems in a way that keeps you safe."
"I get that." Sam says. Dean watches the kid shift uncomfortably in his seat. "And, I appreciate you guys wanting to treat me like an adult about the drinking and stuff." Dean watches tears well up in Sam's eyes and wonders how many times the kid is going to get emotional before the night is over. "But, uh….." Sam glances away again to try to compose himself. "I wouldn't hold it against you guys if you did want to punish me for how I acted last weekend, or for ignoring you guys the whole week. I know I was terrible." Sam wipes quickly at the corner of one eye with the back of his hand and looks toward Cas. "I said some horrible things to you, Cas. I know I really upset you on the hike and when I left the house. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm so sorry."
"Thank you very much for your apology, Sam." Cas's tone is all earnest forgiveness. "I forgive you, my sweet boy. I would also like to apologize to you for how I spoke to you in the car after the hike. You were correct in your assessment that I did not really listen to you or take your feelings into consideration. I understand that I did not treat you with the care that you deserve and I'm very sorry for that."
"It's ok, Cas." Sam says. "I forgive you."
Dean watches Cas smile at Sam and he realizes he has something to apologize for, too. "Hey Sammy, I want to apologize to you, too." Dean looks toward Cas. "To both of you really, because I know this upset you, too, Cas." Dean looks back to his little brother. "I'm sorry for putting my hands on you, for shoving you like I did, on the hike."
Sam's expression shifts slightly, looking a little more guarded than it did a moment ago. "And, for hitting me on Friday, too?" Sam asks hesitantly.
"Oh, uh." Dean's mind goes back to waking up beside his brother on Friday afternoon after a family nap, cuffing Sam on the head and then smacking him on the ass. Dean had framed the actions in his mind as playful roughhousing, but he can admit he swatted the kid's ass with considerably more force than he had intended. It had to have hurt, and been a little embarrassing. Dean tamps down the resentment he feels as being called out for it, when what Sam had done was so much worse. He knows it's not a productive feeling, and that he needs to own his behavior the same way they're asking Sam to own his. "Yeah, Sammy, for hitting you on Friday, too. I honestly thought I was just playing around with you then, but I was angry, and still a little scared, and I think I smacked you harder than I meant to because of it. I shouldn't have been hitting you to begin with, and I'm sorry."
"Thanks, Dean." Sam's voice is low and soft, and he looks so very young to Dean.
"And, on the hike, I really didn't like seeing you up in Cas's face like that, but I still shouldn't have pushed you. If I had it to do over again, I would just get in between you guys without shoving you. I'm sorry for not being better about that."
"It's ok, Dean. I'm pretty sure I deserved it." Sam looks down. "And, if you guys want to ground me or take my phone away while I'm here on weekends, you can." Dean watches Sam's cheeks blush a light pink. "I know I deserve that, too."
Dean turns toward Cas, who is looking back at him with the same question in his eyes. Dean gives his husband a small smile, sure they're on the same page, and trusting Cas to respond for them.
Cas speaks first. "That isn't necessary, Sam. You have apologized and been forgiven. We do not wish to punish you for your behavior. We agree that you're too old to be disciplined like a child."
Sam huffs out a soft, nervous laugh, his cheeks pinkening further, his eyes averted. "Yeah, sorry. That was probably stupid. I just thought it might make me feel better."
"It probably would make you feel better. I think it would help you deal with the guilt you're feeling." Cas says, his voice gentle, eyes kind. "But, one of the challenges of being an adult is managing your own feelings of culpability when you've done something wrong and no longer have the benefit of being punished by those who love you to help assuage your guilt."
Dean registers the momentary hurt and rejection in Sam's eyes before the kid schools his features and solemnly nods his understanding. "Oh, ok. That's fair." Sam pauses and Dean's heart goes out to his little brother, who had clearly expected them to take the responsibility for Sam's penance out of his hands as they have so many times in the past. "But, uh, if I'm too old to be grounded, can I also be too old to be told when to apologize?" Sam eyes Cas with uncertainty. "I mean, once I have a chance to think, I always apologize on my own, when I need to. Being told to apologize was fine, I guess, when I was younger, but now it's kind of embarrassing. It makes me feel like a little kid. Do you think going forward, that you guys could maybe trust me to apologize on my own when I act like a jerk? Because, I swear, as soon as I was done melting down at Cas, I was ready to apologize even without getting shoved and told I had to."
Dean watches Cas nod. "I don't think you're ever a jerk, Sam." Cas puts an awkward emphasis on jerk, as if the word tastes badly in his mouth. "But, I understand your point and I think what you're saying sounds reasonable. I believe you are old enough, and mature enough, to know when you need to apologize. Do you agree, Dean?"
Dean nods at Cas. "Yeah. I do." He gives his brother a small smile. "You're right. I was treating you like a little kid. I'm sorry, Sammy."
"It's ok, Dean. I know you were just sticking up for Cas, and I get it because no matter what he says, I was being a jerk. So, uh." Sam runs a hand through his hair. "Thank you guys for being so understanding about everything. I felt so bad all week. I've been so stressed about facing you guys that I could barely eat this week. My stomach's been a mess."
"Yeah." Dean says. "I'd say it's been a rough week all around."
"That it has." Cas smiles warmly. "But, I'm feeling much better now. And I don't want you to ever be afraid to face us, Sam. We are your parents and we are always here for you, no matter what. You understand that, don't you, Sam?"
"Sam nods. "Yes, Cas. I do. And, I appreciate it."
"Let's never go this long without talking again." Dean says.
"Deal." Sam is smiling even though his eyes are still wet. "This week was definitely no fun."
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Later that evening, after they've eaten dinner as a family and Dean has left for a night shift at the fire station, Sam is sitting on one end of the couch, preoccupied by the discomfort in his stomach as he watches television. They had ordered in Chinese for dinner and Sam had eaten overzealously, believing his reconciliation with his parents would alleviate the gastrointestinal distress he had suffered all week. The food hadn't landed well and Sam has been feeling cramped and uncomfortable since about half hour after finishing dinner. Cas had noticed his discomfort and heated up the lavender scented heating pad that Sam was currently clutching against his abdomen and brought him the mug of camomile tea sitting half consumed on the coffee table.
"Are you feeling any better, Sam?" Cas is sitting on the other end of the couch, and Sam can hear the concern in the man's voice. He knows there's still one thing he needs to apologize to Cas for and he supposes that's the cause of his continued stress.
"It still hurts, but I think the heat is helping."
"Would you like to lie down and stretch out?" Sam watches Cas lean forward and he instinctively wants to stop the man from getting up.
"No, Cas, you don't have to move." Sam says. "I'm ok." Sam would prefer to keep Cas on the couch so that he has an excuse to not make eye contact during the conversation he knows he needs to have.
Cas reaches for the throw pillow on the armchair and sits back down on the couch. He sets the pillow on the couch by his lap, balancing it against his thigh, pats it twice, and motions to Sam with one hand. "Come here, sweet boy. Why don't you try lying down? You might be more comfortable."
Sam complies readily, settling his head onto the pillow and curling up on his side around the heating pad on his abdomen. He feels Cas set a warm palm on his head for a moment and then lift it to gently card his fingers through his hair. The movement feels soothing and Sam feels a little better already from the comfort. He knows he needs to get this over with. He takes a deep breath, feeling like a chicken.
"Cas?" Sam asks hesitantly.
"Mmm?" Cas says absently. They're watching a nature documentary on sloths, Cas's choice at Sam's insistence, and for a moment, Sam worries that Cas might be too engrossed in the content of the show to have this conversation.
"Is it ok if I talk to you, or do you want to concentrate on this show?"
Sam feels Cas looking down at him from the corner of his eye, but he doesn't look up to make eye contact, thinking it will be easier to get what he needs to say off his chest without it.
"You can talk to me, Sam. I am fairly confident that I can follow the plot of this show while we have a conversation, especially since these are quite slow moving animals." Cas's tone is amused and playful. "And, I always enjoy our talks more than anything I could ever find on television."
"Ok." Sam feels a rush of nerves. He keeps his gaze straight ahead, focusing on a sloth hanging from a tree, moving ever so slowly down a branch. "I, uh, well…I know you said that you forgave me for being such a jerk to you last weekend…"
"I don't believe I've ever called you a jerk." Cas confirms. "But, yes, you have been forgiven."
"And, I appreciate that, Cas, really. But, uh, there's one more thing I wanted to talk to you about."
"What is it, Sam?" Cas's fingers sort slowly through Sam's hair and he thinks about how the soft touch could put him to sleep if he wasn't feeling so tense.
"Well, you know what I said when I was leaving on Saturday?" Sam pauses to see if Cas will jump in so that he doesn't need to repeat what he said. When Cas remains silent, Sam continues. "When I said that you weren't my father?"
Sam feels the hand in his hair still for a moment, and he feels an instant spike of panic that maybe he shouldn't have brought this up. But then Cas resumes running his fingers through Sam's hair, and Sam lets out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Yes, Sam. I remember." Cas's voice sounds stilted and nervous, as if he fears he's slowly approaching a minefield.
"It's the thing I felt the worst about all week. I want you to know that. And I want to apologize for it." Sam says. "I'm sorry, Cas."
The pause lasts so long that Sam starts to think the man isn't going to respond.
"Sam, I appreciate your apology very much, and I forgive you. But I would like to clarify that you did nothing wrong by stating that I'm not your father." Sam feels his heart sink at the idea that Cas doesn't want to be his dad. "I know that's a term you reserve for your actual father and I have done my best to respect that and to not refer to myself as your father despite the adoption."
"I know you have, Cas." Sam says. "You didn't do anything wrong. I kept replaying our conversation in my head all week, and I know I only said that to hurt you, because I was mad, and hurt, and I feel terrible about it."
"Thank you, Sam." Cas says. "I appreciate you addressing this with me."
"Well, uh." Sam feels his confidence falter. "I didn't just bring it up to apologize. I also, um, wanted to tell you that what I said isn't true…" Sam takes a breath. "Because I kind of do think of you as my father, my dad, and I have for a while now, and I just wanted you to know that."
Sam feels Cas's hand move to the front of his head, pushing the hair back off his forehead. "Thank you for sharing that with me, Sam. That means more to me than I can ever tell you."
"You don't need to tell me." Sam says quietly. "I get it. I know how I feel whenever you call me your son."
"You are my son. My sweet, sweet boy. You are one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given in this life."
The words feel like a soothing balm to Sam's frayed nerves, and he gets a choked up feeling in his throat. "You too, Cas. You and Dean are the two best things in my life."
"Sam, there's something I'd like to say to you, too." Sam feels himself tense slightly, unsure of what to expect. "I shouldn't have brought up my parents, when we were in the car last weekend. I shouldn't have compared how you were speaking to me to how I used to speak to them. You deserve to be treated with kindness and great care, and it wasn't my intention to imply that you need to be grateful for those things."
"It's ok, Cas." Sam knows his response had been terrible. "And, just so you know, I am grateful that you treat me better than they treated you." Sam pauses to collect his thoughts. The sensitive topic of Cas's childhood doesn't come up often, and Sam wants to be careful with how he expresses the things he wants to say, since it might be his only chance. "I think you're amazing for being such a good dad to me despite how your parents treated you when you were a kid. I hate that you had to grow up with them being the way they were to you. You deserved so much better than them. You deserved to have parents that made you feel as loved and safe as you make me feel."
"Thank you, my sweet boy. That's a lovely thing to say and I will treasure your words always."
Sam thinks about how the formality of Cas's word choice used to feel so off-putting to him when they first met, but how he can now appreciate how brave Cas is in sharing how he feels so directly, without the artifice of sarcasm that most people hide behind. The idea of Cas treasuring something Sam said, possibly pulling up Sam's words at a later time when the man is feeling down and needs to buoy his spirits, gives Sam a warm, proud feeling in his chest.
"And, Cas, I'm sorry I threw that story you told me in your face, about the way your parents punished you for turning on the television. That was awful of me."
"It's forgiven and forgotten. My parents have been on my mind a lot lately. I'm not sure why, but I think I know what I need to do about it."
Sam feels a wave of excitement. "Does that mean that you're ready to look for Gabriel?"
"I think it does." Cas says. "I think I also have an obligation to report my parents' church to the authorities."
Sam cranes his neck to look up at Cas and Cas lifts his hand from Sam's hair at the movement, holding it awkwardly above Sam's head for a moment before resting it on Sam's shoulder. "Oh, wow, Cas! That's huge. I think you should definitely do it! I hate your stupid parents and I would love to see them go to prison for how they treated you."
Cas's eyes remain focused on the television, but Sam watches a small smile creep across the man's face before he looks down at Sam with a serious expression on his face. "I'm glad I have your support, Sam. I think it may be too late to press charges against my parents for abusing me, but I would like to see the church disbanded, if it still even exists, so that other children aren't subjected to the treatment I experienced."
Sam considers that. He knows that the most impactful thing that can happen is the church being shut down to protect any kids who might live there now, but he also wants Cas's parents to pay for what they did to a young and vulnerable Cas. He would love to see them rot in a prison cell for the way they beat a twelve year old Cas for turning on the freaking tv or threw him out at 17 for kissing a boy. His heart hurts for Cas every time he thinks about the man's childhood and he would love to see Cas get some type of justice, or payback, for everything the guy endured as a kid.
"So, how are you going to do it? When do you think you'll start looking for your brother? And, do you just call the local police about your parents' church, or is it like an FBI matter since it's a cult?"
"I don't have a lot of answers for you right now." Cas's voice is calm and unrattled by all the questions. "I haven't thought that far ahead yet, but I will keep you in the loop when I know more. I told Dean about my intentions last night and for now, I just wanted to let you know, but I'm not ready to discuss it in detail. Is it all right if we just watch this show and enjoy each other's company this evening?"
"Yes, Cas, of course." Sam sets his head back down on the pillow, his mind spinning with this new information. He feels Cas's hand go back to his head and gently piece through his hair. He feels himself relax at the attention, but he knows he has something else he needs to discuss with Cas before he lets himself get too comfortable. "Hey, Cas? Can I say one more thing?"
"What is it, Sam?" Cas asks. His tone is neutral and slightly closed off and Sam knows Cas thinks he's going to say something else about the man's childhood.
"I just…..I know I already apologized to you for the way I spoke to you on the hike last weekend, but I want you to know that I get why it was wrong at more than just the basic level of how disrespectful I was. I actually yelled at you. I know I was totally out of line. I acted like a bully. Or like my dad when he was drunk and pissed. And you looked a little freaked out, and when I thought about it, I realized it probably brought up other stuff for you, too, from when your parents used to yell at you when you were a little kid, and I know it must have sucked. And, I just want you to know that I get it, and I'm sorry, and I'll never get in your face like that again. Ever. I promise."
Sam feels Cas shift behind him, then a kiss lands on the side of his head. "Thank you, sweet boy. I appreciate all the reflection you've done."
They occupy the couch in companionable silence for a few minutes, Sam's head on the pillow on Cas's lap, Cas gently playing with his hair and rubbing his fingernails over his scalp. Sam relaxes under Cas's hand and settles in to watch a sloth stretch to reach for a leaf. "These guys are really slow, huh?"
"Hmmm. They are that." Cas says, his tone thoughtful. "But, what a peaceful life that must be."