Sorry I didn't update like I promised, I got really busy :/
(BLD)
Dean meticulously opened cans of beans, pouring them into a big pot to cook in. Along with the beans, he'd tossed in freshly diced tomatoes and onions. He took a large mixing spoon and stirred the mixture slowly while he kept one eye on a frying pan he'd put some ground meat into. Once the meat was fully cooked, he'd sprinkle some chili powder in with it, then toss the meat in with the beans.
"So what's this I hear about Ruby wanting to come down?" he asked, over his shoulder.
Sam sighed, sitting back from his laptop at the kitchen table, "She said she doesn't like it at the apartment, being all alone. Which is a big fucking lie, because Liam is there, constantly." He groaned, continuing to type up a paper for a class. "That guy never leaves the house unless he's got a class, ran out of beer and Cheetos, or is out at some chick's house." He shook his head at the antics of he and Ruby's roommate. "I have no fucking clue how that guy is even able to pay his half of the rent." He mumbled, squinting slightly.
Dean chuckled once, taking a small spatula and stirring around the meat in the pan, "Maybe he has an online job." He suggested.
Sam glanced over to Dean, over his screen, "I think the real issue is the fact that Ruby is probably packing a bag right now to come down here."
Dean sighed, his shoulders drooping, "Listen," he began, turning around to face his brother, "If you need to call her again and let me talk to her-" "No, you'll just make her all pissy." Sam interrupted. "Then she'll just come to annoy you."
Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever," he turned back to the pan, "Tell her what you need to tell her. Just make sure she knows she's not welcome here." He glanced back once to Sam, making sure he saw the face he pulled so he knew how serious he was.
Sam sighed, "I got it. It's just not that simple." He tried to make Dean understand, "Everything is a word game with her. One slip up and she could think that I'm the one who doesn't want her here-" "Hey, hey…" Dean interrupted this time, putting a hand up as he turned to him, "I don't need to hear your problems, because I have a solution that could fix everything for you."
Sam groaned, "I'm not gonna break up with her, Dean." He glared at his older brother, annoyed he'd bring that up again.
"What reason, what actual reason do you have to not to, Sam… Honestly." Dean challenged. He's asked the question many times before, and Sam has always been dodgy about his answer.
Sam sighed, exasperated, "I don't have to explain myself to you. It's not like you've ever had a serious fucking relationship." He spat.
Dean rolled his eyes, "Oh wow, Sammy, that stung." He turned back to his meat, finishing it off then tossing it in with the beans, turning off the stove eye it sat on. "Do whatever you want, I'm just telling you you're way better off, man."
Dean didn't get a response, and instead heard shuffling. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Sam was putting his headphones on, plugging them into his laptop and playing some music to drown out his brother. Dean sucked his teeth, "Yea, really mature."
Castiel sat at his bed, dialing his friend's number, then stared at the ground as he waited for him to answer. It only rang twice before Balthazar finally answered.
"Hello my friend, have you gone mad yet?" Balthazar chuckled. Castiel rolled his eyes, "Not yet. But give it some more time." He responded with a sigh.
"Aww, poor Cassie. I feel so bad for letting you get taken away like that." He spoke, and Castiel could hear the sounds of bells.
Castiel's brows furrowed, "Where are you?" he asked, lifting his legs up off the floor and folding them under him, Indian style. It was a subconscious action, something he did without realizing it as he talked on the phone.
"Oh, I'm at my niece's recital. They're warming up as we speak." And Castiel could tell that Balthazar was holding his phone out more so he could hear the sounds more clearly. He could pick out other various instruments tuning up, clarinets practicing scales, trombones holding G notes and percussion going through different rumbles.
"You know she made first chair flute last week, right? God, she is such a brilliant one." Balthazar talked up his niece like she was his own daughter. It made Castiel smile.
"That's good to hear. When do they start?" he asked, hoping he had some time to speak with his friend as thoroughly as he needed to.
"Well, all members of the band had to get here an hour early, so I've got some time." Then Castiel could hear the instruments get quieter and quieter. He assumed that meant Balthazar was heading away from them so he could hear him better when they spoke.
"What's on your mind, Cassie?" he asked, and Castiel could only faintly hear the louder instruments in the background.
"Well first off, have you checked my mail at all? I know I gave you a key all the months ago for when I went out of town," "Don't worry about it. I took the liberty of doing just that. You got your light bill, and some junk mail, but nothing else major." He told Castiel.
Castiel sighed, having hoped he'd have gotten a letter from the publishing house, "You know these things take time." Balthazar spoke up, "You'll hear back from them in a week, tops. Stop squirming." Castiel rolled his eyes.
"There's another thing…that I wanted to talk to you about, actually." Castiel brought up, indelicately.
"Oh? And what would that be?" there was a short pause before Balthazar tacked on, "You aren't breaking up with me, are you?"
Castiel chuckled lightly, "No, nothing like that." Then his slight smile fell, "Though it is somewhat of a grim topic."
There was another pause, "Oh dear. What's wrong?" Balthazar's tone had become more serious.
Castiel sighed, "I'm sorry, Balthazar, but I lied to you about why I needed to come home." Castiel ran a hand down his face before continuing, "That night, I found out that my father has come down with something. My brother told me he's dying… He has terminal brain cancer." He sighed again, trying hard to keep it together as he explained his situation to his closest friend.
Balthazar gasped, "Castiel, I am so sorry… You have nothing to apologize for, I understand if you didn't want me to know right away." Balthazar sighed, "Damn it. I wish I could be there for you."
Castiel started fiddling with a stray thread at the end of his pants leg, "I'd certainly have more things to do with you around." He thought aloud.
"How are things with your brothers? How are they handling it?" Balthazar asked.
Castiel pulled a face, "Well, Gabriel is being his usual self, trying to not let it affect him, but I can tell he's hurting inside." He then reclined back on his bed, "Lucifer seems to be stronger than all of us and seems to be handling it well. He's cooking a lot more, and I mean more than usual. It's a sign that he's stressed." Castiel then sighed, "And then there's Michael." He stared up at his ceiling, imagining the hard lines of his brother's features.
"It's hard to tell, really. I think out of all my brothers, I'm most distant with him." He frowned, "I hope to be changing that soon." He resolved.
"Well good. I don't mean to sound insensitive by saying this, but I think that this may bring your family together, like it should be." Balthazar spoke his opinion freely, and Castiel appreciated it. It meant Balthazar wouldn't shy away from pointing out Castiel's flaws in his writing, and it also meant he'd get the best advice as his friend.
Castiel was able to crack a small smile, "Yes, I can see it turning out for the better, as well. It's just unfortunate that it's under these circumstances."
Before Castiel could bring up other points of conversation to keep their chat going, there was a knock at his door, "Hold on, Balthazar, there's someone at my door."
Castiel got up and went to his door, expecting to see one of his brothers, but instead, he saw Hannah, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but your father is awake again, and he's asked to speak with you."
Castiel held his phone back to his ear, "I'm gonna have to call you back Balthazar."
After Castiel said his goodbyes to Balthazar, he followed after Hannah, suddenly very nervous, "Did he say why?" he asked, hesitantly.
Hannah only shook her head, "No, he only said he needed to speak to you privately." She then turned back to Castiel as they came up to his father's bedroom door, "Whatever it is, it seemed urgent." She answered. She then opened the door for him, "He should be able to talk, he was having some difficulty a few minutes ago, but now he seems fine." She informed him. With a small nod, he entered into the whirring and beeping room.
The door closed near silently behind him and he was left in the room with his father.
As he approached his father's bed, he saw how his eyes were still closed, and for a moment he wondered if he'd gone back to sleep. "Dad?" he called out to him quietly.
Soon, one eye opened, almost blearily, searching for him. "Castiel." His father spoke, a small smile curving his dry lips. "Sit here with me, we need to talk." he instructed him, one hand reaching to the side of the bed, patting the comforter for him to sit.
Castiel smiled back and did as he was instructed. "Hannah says you needed to speak to me about something urgent." He mentioned.
His father nodded, "Yes, and I don't want you to tell your brothers. This stays between me and you." He said, patting his sons hand. He then smiled to Castiel, "You know that I am very proud of you, right?"
For a moment, Castiel was confused by the sudden topic, but tried not to react. "I know, Dad."
His father shook his head, "No, no, I mean it. Even after you moved away, it hurt, yes, but I knew you did it to find yourself." His smile turned broader, "It took a lot of courage to move away from everything you've known to spread your wings." His father then squeezed his son's hand, tightly.
Castiel bit at his lip, trying to keep back the tears, though one solitary tear fell, "Thank you, Dad." He spoke, emotion choking his words.
"Don't cry, Castiel. I can already tell big things are going to be happening to you in your future." He told him, pride in his eyes.
Castiel wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand, then rubbed his fingers into his eyes. Soon after, he sighed, looking back to his father. "For the longest time, that's all I wanted to hear from you." He told his father. It was like the entire world was suddenly lifted from his shoulders.
His father then lifted his brittle arms and weakly hugged his son, and Castiel couldn't help the soft tears that fell from his eyes, holding his father back. It took Castiel a moment to regain his composure to keep talking.
"Castiel…" his father spoke, his eyes wandering around the room, "This next topic…is more pressing." He began. He then looked up to his son, "This is what you can't tell your brothers about."
Castiel reached behind himself, to a convenient box of tissues, and blew his nose. He sighed, throwing the spent tissue away into a bin beside the bed, "What is it?" he asked finally.
His father sighed, "My perception has changed, and I feel I might not be able to judge our family like I used to." He then looked Castiel directly in the eyes, "I'm losing my grip on things, Castiel. When I pass, all my worldly possessions will be given to you boys, and the more important things will be dealt with in my will. But that will hasn't been updated…" his father glanced elsewhere, "In about fifteen years."
He then looked back to Castiel, "Zachariah will be coming by tomorrow to help me sort things out. I need you to be the one to make sure things are in order after I pass."
Castiel's eyes went wide, "What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly very confused.
"In my will, I am giving you the right to make adjustments as you see fit to who inherits what." He answered, as if that was what answered all questions.
Castiel started shaking his head, "Dad…no, I can't. Why can't Michael?" he started to feel frantic, like things were becoming all too intense.
"Michael…" his father paused, his hand making a gesture in the air as he tried to come up with the right word to describe his eldest son. "He's…lost touch…with the family." He explained.
Castiel nodded, knowing exactly what he meant, "I feel, maybe he's spent too much time working for the company." That got his father to chuckle, though it turned into a pained action that Castiel panicked over, putting his hands lightly on his father's shoulder. His father eventually pushed them away, brushing it off as nothing.
"You're right. He works too much." He shook his head, "Even when we took that family vacation, you remember, to Florida? He couldn't stay off his computer for a few hours." He shook his head again. "That boy needs a girlfriend."
Surprisingly, that got Castiel to laugh.
Though as his laughter died down, he reminded himself of their topic of conversation, "Dad, why are you giving me this responsibility? I can understand not giving it to Gabriel, but surely you must have at least thought about Lucifer…" he hoped he could persuade his father from making him one of the deciding factors in giving away his father's assets. He could just see the rage in his Uncle's eyes whenever he denied him something.
His father shook his head, "No, Lucifer has his restaurant to worry about. I don't want to add that pressure on him." He then looked to Castiel, "I hadn't realized this would be such a burden for you, son. Maybe I should… reconsider Michael…" he then glanced towards the window, which was closed with a thick curtain pulled across it.
Castiel sighed, "No, Dad, I…" he sighed again, more deeply, "I'll take the responsibility. It's just…shocking that you would trust me enough with such a task."
His father gave the best grin he could manage, "Don't tell your brothers…" he then glanced around as if looking for anyone else in the room, "But I trust you the most." He told him, giving him a little poke in the chest with a boney finger.
Castiel smiled, "Thanks Dad. That means a lot."
His father smiled wide, "Give me a hug and then go eat something. I need to rest some more." He told his son and then reached out to start the hugging without him.
Castiel chuckled as he hugged back, "Of course." As he pulled away, he spoke again, "I think it's worth mentioning that it's almost night. So I'll go have some dinner, and hopefully we can speak again in the morning." He told him.
His father nodded, "Alright, good night then, Castiel." He told his son as he pulled his blanket a little ways farther up his body.
"Good night Dad." He whispered, kissed his father on the forehead and left him to get his sleep.
He closed the door behind him, as quietly as he could, then sighed. He had a lot more to talk to Balthazar about, and he feared that this would be the end of the secret identity that he'd set up in Seattle.