Please ask if you have any questions concerning DID, I'd be glad to answer. It can be a very complex thing, and when I'm writing I accidentally assume everybody is an expert on the matter and don't explain anything. I'll try to be as clear as possible, but seriously, ask!
Castiel packed a bag - he knew that they wouldn't be returning. It didn't hold much, just a couple of changes of clothes and the little badly carved horse his dad had made him, for purely sentimental reasons. Cas didn't want to take it, but felt the Others might appreciate the sentiment.
He also took as much food as he could fit from the garden, a couple of coconuts, some bananas and papayas. He left the potatoes, having no way to cook them. He also took a knife, just in case, and a photograph of his mother. He left the one with his father in it, knowing what he was like. He had no memories of his father's beatings, but had a vague idea, enough to know that he was a horrible man.
Looking once more around his dark, small house, Cas sighed and turned away, never to look back.
He easily found the docks and the man he assumed he was to speak to. He was a large bearded man, wearing a simple shirt and trousers with a blue jacket. He looked kind.
"Excuse me, sir," Cas said politely.
"Hello, son! What brings you here?" He said in a deep, gruff voice with an accent he couldn't quite place.
"My mother, she... she asked me to give you this." Handing over the sealed envelope, he stepped back and waited for the man to read it.
His face turned from jolly, to serious, to sad, then to pitying in the minutes it took to read the note. Cas shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He hated pity.
"I'm so sorry," he said, eyes sad. "Rachel was a lovely woman..."
With that, Cas withdrew from their shared body, and Alexander came back, very confused. Where was he?
The man was going on about someone, someone "sweet and kind". Alex quickly interrupted. "I'm sorry," he began. "But... Who are you?"
"Sorry," the man said, shaking his head. "You won't want to talk about it. I'm Davie, the Dockmaster. You must be Alexander. Look, there's a cargo ship leaving in ten minutes, I'll put you on that."
"Where am I going?" Alex asked, understanding that he must have given the letter to the man that his mother had spoken about. Now he was up and moving, he wasn't so mournful. He felt stronger somehow.
"Rachel didn't tell you? ...Of course not. Sorry." He apologised a lot, Alex thought to himself. "Its an island not too far away, only a day's travel. You're to stay with your cousin, Peter. You know him?" Alex shook his head. "Peter Lytton, it says here. Well, I'll send one of my blokes with you to explain when you get there, he'll help you find the right place. You got everything you need? Good."
He ushered him onto a large supply ship, where he beckoned over a tall, lean man with blonde hair.
"Sam! This is Alexander Hamilton, would you mind taking him to this address when you get to the island? The letter will explain."
"Sure," the man said simply.
"Make sure he's fed, he looks very skinny. When did you last eat, son?"
Alex squirmed at the word 'son' and shrugged. He couldn't remember, but it must have been that long ago; he felt fine.
"I'll make sure he has something," Sam said, as Davie patted Alex on the back. he gave him one last pitying glance before turning and getting back off the boat.
"We'd better be off then," Sam told him, as he headed off to start the ship.