Sam had looked after him and took him to his cousin's house. It was a huge place, two stories high, and at least twelve times the size of Alex's own home.
Though it wasn't his home now, was it? This was.
Assuming his cousin took him in.
Sam walked him up the path leading to the front door. The house was so big, that it had double doors and a porch. The grassy garden was full of flowers and trees, and perfectly trimmed. It was huge.
Sam knocked on the door, and Alex suddenly felt very anxious. What if he didn't want him? Nobody else did, after all. He considered making a run for it before Peter came to the door. It was quite late, would he even be up?
He blinked, and suddenly Castiel was Out. He felt it was getting too overwhelming for Alex to handle.
Just then, the door opened to reveal a brunette man who looked to be in his mid-twenties. He was muscled and looked very serious. He smiled at them both quizzically, which broke that idea somewhat.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes," Sam said. "This is Alexander Hamilton."
"Ah, a Hamilton!" He said, recognising the name. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, his mother passed away not too long ago, and it was a written request from her that you take her child in."
Peter frowned. "What of his father?"
"He left," Cas told him, "when I was ten."
"What are you now, eleven?"
"Nearly thirteen, sir," Cas replied, hiding a frown. He didn't like Peter. He didn't know why, he just had a hunch that he wasn't who he seemed.
"And he has no one else?"
"No," Sam said firmly.
Castiel was worried for a minute that he was going to be turned away. Peter seemed very reluctant to offer his home to the orphaned boy.
"I have nowhere else to go," he said and looked at his feet sadly. It was an act. He hoped that Peter would take pity and allow him entry. He really didn't know what to do if he turned him away.
Peter bit his lip, then sighed. "I suppose you must stay here, then."
No need to sound so pleased about it, Cas thought, internally rolling his eyes. He just hoped that his cousin would be more welcoming once he was actually living there.
"Do you want to bring your things in?"
"This is it," Cas said, patting his bag.
"Oh? Okay. You'd better come in then!"
"Bye, Alex," Sam said.
"Goodbye. Thanks for bringing me up here. I know you didn't have to." He was grateful that he had. God knows how they would have found the right place, if not.
"Not a problem. Good luck!"
Then Peter shut the door.
"Okay, squirt," he said, smile falling from his face. "I'm tired. Before you came, I was about to go to bed. So, your room can be the one up the stairs, second door to the right. It's a guest one, but I'll be generous and let you have it."
He didn't really have much of a choice, did he? unless he thought they would be sleeping on the sofa. Castiel really didn't like the feel of this man. He withdrew from their body and allowed Alexander to come back out.
"Before I go; Quick list of rules. One; do as I say. Two; don't go into rooms that aren't yours. The living room and the kitchen are the only places you're allowed. And the bathroom. There's one at the end of the hall, and another on the bottom floor. you'll find it. And three; don't bother me. Got it?"
"Um, yes," Alex said uncertainly. These memory blanks were getting silly.
"Off you go then! Second on the right!"
Alex hurried up the dark wooden stairs and located what he assumed must have been his room. It had white walls and plain wooden floorboards. The bed was very big - it was a double one. He had an oak wardrobe and a comfy looking armchair in the corner. The best thing, however, was the small bookshelf against the wall. He smiled and gravitated towards them.
There were about thirty, and he betted he'd be able to get through them all fairly quickly. He hoped there were more somewhere, perhaps a library. The place was big enough. It had two bathrooms!
He considered reading one right then, but decided he'd wait. Pulling the notepad his mother had given him out of his bag (That he didn't remember packing), he began to write about his day.
He wrote about how he found himself at the dockyard, about how Sam had taken him to his own room below the deck and let him sleep in his bed, while he took the sofa. It was the nicest thing anyone had done in a while, and Alex felt guilty about it, but the man had insisted.
he wrote about his first impressions of Peter, and from what he knew, he was reluctant to let him stay, and would likely be quite strict, since he's not allowed in any of the other rooms.
Sighing, Alex put away the journal, and climbed into the soft bed. It was the comfiest thing he had ever lay down on, and it had a thick, warm blanket on it.
He would unpack what he had tomorrow. But now, he was already asleep.