It Was My Work That Kept Me Upright

DEAN: Sure, hold on, I'll forward you his contact. Are you okay? CASTIEL: I'll tell you about it later. I need to make some calls. DEAN: Ok, Now you're worrying me. Did something happen at the church? CASTIEL: I don't have time to explain. Can I just have Sam's number? (o o o) DEAN: Samantha Winchester Contact Card

Castiel clicked on the link and waited for it to open when another text came in from Dean.

DEAN: Sorry I bothered you. I guess we'll talk later.

Shit. Castiel punched his steering wheel and then lowered his head to press against the dry, cracked leather. He should text Dean, explain at least a little, but it all felt so big. He couldn't get the words out yet or believe this is happening. In one sentence Michale had taken everything away from him, his future, his career, his project. The vacant abyss of what next whirled just below him and the idea of trying to talk all that through with Dean was too much. He wouldn't be able to keep himself calm. And right now he needed to do something so the thick black tendrils of hopelessness and depression didn't get a chance to wrap themselves around his heart. He needed to do something before he gave up.

So instead, he selected Sam's cell number.

"Hello?" Sam answered, probably unsure who was on the other end of the unfamiliar number.

"Hello, Sam. It's Castiel."

"Cas, hey man, what's going on?" Sam sounded as friendly and cheerful in the middle of his workday as he did on movie night.

"I have a problem. The church is… I've been fired and my project, Mary's House, it's…" Castiel couldn't finish the words, tears finally coming to his eyes and closing his throat.

"Hey, hey, slow down. How can I help?" Sam soothed.

"I think I need a lawyer. I know you aren't one, but can you help me? I… I don't know if you do pro-bono work at your firm, but I don't know anyone else. I can try to find some money if-"

"-don't even worry about that," Sam cut him off mid-sentence. "Come into the office, and we'll have you sign paperwork to make you an official client. Then you'll have some protection and rights like privilege."

"What?" Castiel asked.

"Attorney-Client Privilege. If I work on your case, anything we talk about can't be subpoenaed to testify about, same with anyone else at the firm. Once you're set-up, you can tell me everything, and we'll get it sorted out. Don't worry. You're going to be okay."

"Sam, I don't. If I fail this internship, I have to go back home." The last words come out in a strangled whisper. "I knew I'd have to, but now… I. I don't know what to do."

"You mean like, home home."

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and nodded before choking out a "yes."

"Okay, buddy. It's alright. I'm going to text you my office address and you come right here. We'll sign some paperwork and order lunch, and you can tell me everything. If we need one of the attorneys to weigh in or give us advice, we can do that too. Okay? We'll make a plan."

"Yes, okay. Thank you, Sam."

"Do you want Dean here?" Sam asked in his sweet, straightforward way.

Castiel shook his head, new tears falling. "Not yet. And" Cas paused, terrified of the next step," you can't tell him anything I tell you under the privilege thing, right?"

Sam's frown was almost audible. "No."

"Okay, then." Castiel took a deep breath and dove into the freezing water so he could swim out of the frozen place his heart lived and try to come ashore. "Do you have anyone who might be able to help us with family law?"

At Sam's office, the secretary recognized his name immediately. She was sweet with deep auburn hair and an easy smile. Castiel wished he had been nicer to her, but he barely managed to get his own name out before she bustled him back into a small conference room and offered him a drink. He declined and sat, hands folded on his lap, his computer bag next to him, and his body vacillating between dehydrating via sweat or tears. Eventually, she returned with what she referred to as the standard paperwork for him to sign.

He filled it all out, giving all his information and pulling out his driver's license for them to photocopy. And then he got to the end and froze. The payment scale and guarantee of collection left him in shock.

That was when he really looked at the room he sat in. The plush leather couch along one wall, the marble counter with cabinets, and a sink along another. The walls were covered with abstract art and crown molding lined the room One entire wall was made of glass looking out over downtown Sioux Falls. This was not some rinky-dink little country law firm. The hourly rate alone proved that.

There was no way he could afford this. He probably couldn't even afford the time he'd wasted with the receptionist. He started to stand and grab his license when Sam walked in. Tall and broad in a navy suit with a green shirt and lighter blue tie, he was the image of an attractive young professional.

"Hey, Cas… you leaving?"

"This was a mistake. I'm sorry. I should just call the school and handle this on my own, and the other situation will just have to work out somehow. I'll figure it out, I can't..." he gestured vaguely to the room.

"Hey, hey," Sam put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Breathe. Come on, let's sit you down."

Sam guided him onto the low couch and sat with a firm hand on his shoulder for a few moments. Once Castiel stopped shaking, Sam went to the counter and grabbed one of the cokes sitting there and opened it. He poured it into a fancy carved glass and brought it to Cas. "The sugar will be good for you. Drink a little, okay?"

He was right. Of course, Castiel did feel better with a little sugar and a few calm minutes with Sam. But as soon as he wasn't freaking out about paying a lawyer, everything else in his life came crashing down.

"Am I going to owe you like $75 for this coke now?" Castiel tried and failed to make a joke.

"Is that what this is about? Are you worried about paying me?"

"Of course, I wouldn't ask you to work for free. I just don't think I can afford the kind of hourly rates on that guarantee form."

"Shit, I didn't even think about you seeing that. I'm sorry, Cas, I should have met you when you got here, but I got pulled into this research thing and had to find a file for-"

"No, no, Sam, it's fine. I. I can just go and try to handle this on my own. There probably isn't anything you can do anyway." Castiel tried to stand again but Sam glared at him. "I'll just call the school tomorrow."

"Cas, will you please stop talking?"

Castiel did a double-take, looking at Sam's smiling voice. "I…"

"Please, just listen. You don't have to pay any fees. You're not going to owe anything. Whatever you need, I'm here to help. And calling the school yourself probably is a good idea, but we need to have a plan so you know what to say and what to ask. I can be as involved as you want, just helping you brainstorm or I can call them for you, okay? But either way it's not going to cost you a thing."

"That's an unreasonably generous offer." Castiel frowned.

"You really have no idea, do you?" Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes while muttering his brother's name. "Dean's never told you what he does, has he?"

"Um yeah, he works as a mechanic at Bobby's shop two days a week and otherwise makes custom furniture and tries to sell some original designs when he can. But I mean, that can't be much. He wouldn't take in a boarder in that tiny cabin if he didn't need the rent."

"You know what Bobby did for us, right? And knowing Dean, do you think he really took you in because he needs money?"

"Oh, I, I guess not, but I don't understand." Cas settled his hands back in his lap, feeling so alone and out of place. He couldn't even navigate this conversation, let alone how to fight back against Michael. How was he ever going to make things right?

Sam took out his phone and quickly pulled up a website. "Okay, so this is Singer Autobody. It's a good shop and has a scrap yard and Bobby does pretty well, considering. But do you see that star rating, 10 out of 10? Right above that, there's a modest little button for Singer Restorations. This is what Dean does at the shop."

Sam taps the icon and hands his phone to Cas. It loads slowly, but the first thing he sees is Dean's beautiful smile next to a gleaming Baby. He scrolls down and finds picture after picture of classic American muscle cars in pristine condition. They are all sleek and bright and sexy.

"Dean did all these?"

"Oh yeah, he has a client list a mile long. We have one car in storage that someone actually shipped here from California. It's been sitting waiting for Dean to get to it for ten months already and the owner doesn't seem to care how long he has to wait. Dean could work seven days a week and never catch up with the demand for custom restorations. He's one of the top mechanics in the country."

"Wow." Cas breathes.

Sam took the phone back and pulled up another website. When Castiel took it in his hand, he saw the name Winchester Designs at the top and then categories for inventory or custom work. He clicked on tables and saw one that reminded him of Dean's newest commission.

"He's doing a mosaic table right now. I don't know if it will look like this, but these are amazing."

"Cas," Sam turned to look at him seriously, "Dean doesn't tell people because he doesn't want anyone treating him differently, but that table is worth twenty-thousand dollars. Between the high-end restorations and custom woodwork, my brother's loaded. When Jess and I moved here after college, he bought us a house. And I don't mean he took out a mortgage or co-signed a loan. I mean, he wrote a check for an entire house and I have no student loans, none, he paid for all of it. He's a low-key guy, but money isn't something he has to worry about and he's been generous enough that it's not something Bobby or I have to worry about either. So if you need help, it's yours."

"I can't…" Castiel was at a loss for words. How could these people be real? How could people exist who were so kind and generous and giving? What kind of world could this be if more people were like the Winchesters.

"I'm not telling you all this just to brag about Dean. He's awesome, but he's also pretty big on paying it forward. This isn't charity. This is how I was raised." Sam stood and scribbled something on the guarantee paperwork and handed it to Castiel. "If it makes you feel better, now it's in writing."

Pro-Bono was written across the fees section.

"I only need you to sign so it's official. Not so I can try to get your last dollar."

Cas took the pen Sam held out and signed, preparing to tell the younger man more about himself than he's ever said out loud before to anyone.

Sam grabbed a legal pad and a pen and settled on one end of the couch patiently. "So you were fired. Do you think it was wrongful termination?"

"I'm not sure that applies to a religious organization. I was fired immediately after confirming I am gay."

"Fuck Cas," Sam leaned forward in shock and then started jotting down notes and asking questions about the circumstances. When they talked through Michael's changes to the Mary's House project, Sam was again horrified and began rattling off names of people they could contact to help, even if it's not through the courts. Cas gave him the names of all the church board members and Sam planned to make some calls, especially to Bobby, who knows everything about everyone in Sioux Falls.

"So it's okay for me to talk to Bobby about all this?" Sam confirmed.

"Yes, and Eileen, and Dean. Whoever. This can all be public knowledge. In fact, I want it to be public knowledge that I'm fighting Michael on this."

"I agree, public perception can go a long way in getting these kinds of decisions reversed."

Castiel nodded and sighed. He's exhausted, but there's so much more.

"My internship is a requirement for my seminary program. If I fail this, I'll be removed from the program and have to reapply."

"You can't just do another internship?" Sam cocked his head like a puppy and Cas is suddenly reminded how much younger he is.

"Officially no. Because of these circumstances, I'm going to put a call into my advisor and see if I can't petition for an exception, but there's no way of knowing where they will send me or when."

"So not everyone does their internship over the summer?"

"Oh, no." Castiel rubbed his palms on his pant legs as the harder topics loomed closer. "Most people write their thesis at the same time as doing their internship. The internship is six months and other than that, they can do whatever they want and live wherever they want as long as they meet their thesis deadlines. Because this was a summer internship and I was going to help set up programs, not just help run them, I had a four-month internship approved, and then I was going to go home to write my thesis."

"Home?" Sam said hesitantly.

"I understand your reaction, but I have my reasons."

"Okay, I'd like to hear about them if you're willing, but let's talk through school first."

After another hour of talking, Sam has put together a list of people for each of them to contact at the school and the community. What kind of documents they needed from whom, and what kind of documents Castiel might need to provide, such as his transcript from college and seminary, the script of his sermon even though he couldn't give it, grant proposals he'd written.

"So, in addition to all this, it sounds like you were planning on going back to Massachusetts in September anyway, but now you don't want to." Sam phrases the question so casually, so kindly. It's easy to forget that everything that comes next has been under lock and key, buried at the bottom of the frozen lake in his heart for years.

"Well, you saw me freak out over just a movie; you can only imagine what living there is like." Cas picked at his cuticles and stared at the wall across from them. "This is, this is the part that I don't want shared, okay Sam? I am from a dangerous place, with dangerous people, and I can't risk anyone getting hurt." He looked up imploringly.

Sam nodded and set his lips in a thin line. "Is not going back an option? You could stay here, we'd all love for you to stay here, but if not, there's a lot of country out there. Or you could go back to the school. I'm sure some people live on campus while writing their thesis."

Castiel nodded, his eyes full of water, "You see, I have responsibilities. Obligations. I thought I had another year to get everything together, to figure it all out. And I'd be there to make sure it all went okay. Getting my Masters in Divinity was sold to my family as a way to come back and legitimize their church, but it was really a way for me to get out, find a job, and establish credit. I didn't even have a social security number or birth certificate until I went to college and had to petition the courts to get them. But now I have a college degree and was supposed to have a master's and options that would make it possible for me to…"

"But Cas, I don't understand. You could leave now without the Masters. You still have a college degree and credit and all that stuff now."

"Yes, but I don't have my son and I have to get him out of there."