A few weeks after Dean and Sam move in, Castiel is watching the sun go down from the bedroom window in the shared apartment. He had the bedroom converted into a study when he purchased the floor he and his crew live on. It's where he conducts a majority of the paper side of the business, and where he brings associates to meet with him.
Now he sits at his desk, which faces the big window, and watches the sunset as he contemplates.
The Winchesters have settled in beautifully. It was a bit of a gamble, but Castiel went ahead and paid to have Sam enrolled in the same private school that Kevin attends. The boy is flourishing there, receiving high marks in all courses. The only reason Castiel knows anything about it is because Dean frequently brags about Sam, about how smart his younger brother is. Sam will blush and protest, but Dean hears nothing of it and continues to sing Sam's praises. Sam never says anything about his own accomplishments, but Castiel is glad that he at least shares them with Dean, and that Dean shares them with the rest.
It's the only thing Dean shares.
Castiel supervises each of Dean's training sessions (and if Benny gives him a cocked eyebrow at that, at least Garth has the decency not to say anything), so he knows very well that Dean is exceptional. He knows that, in just a few weeks, Dean has mastered working with Jeff. Castiel is even planning on taking Dean with him to a music festival this weekend to work the crowd, to see him in action. It's the fastest he's ever taken a student from the mannequin to the street.
He wishes he could make Dean see his worth. Where Castiel sees someone who has mastered pickpocketing in a remarkably short amount of time, Dean sees someone who didn't get it right on the first try. It's extremely frustrating.
He's shaken from his thoughts by a soft knock on the door. "Come in."
Kevin enters the room looking nervous, and Castiel immediately puts all of his concerns aside to focus on his charge. "Kevin? Is everything all right?"
Kevin gives a jerky nod that Castiel in no way believes. "Yeah, yeah, definitely." He swallows hard. "I, uh, wanted to let you know that we've had some reports about that new gang? That Abby lady?"
Castiel nods gravely. "Abaddon, yes. Go on."
"Uh, just that she's definitely making waves. Smash and grab jobs, no finesse at all," the disdain in Kevin's voice makes Castiel swell with pride, "but they're definitely, uh, making an impression. Public awareness will be up."
Castiel nods. "We have plenty saved. It won't hurt us overmuch to stay away from building and burglary work for a few weeks until it dies down." When Kevin's eyes dart away, Castiel tilts his head. "Was there something else?"
"I just… Sam says that he was with you when you guys ran into her."
"He was."
"He says that she… Uh, that she threatened us."
Ah. That's what Kevin is concerned about. "Kevin," he says firmly, making sure his voice is confident, "I will let no harm come to any of you. Please do not worry yourself overmuch. I will deal with Abaddon, should she become a problem."
It works, it must, because there is relief in Kevin's eyes. "Of course, I know that. Sorry."
"Do not apologize, I appreciate the vigilance."
"Okay. I'm gonna, uh, go to bed."
"Good night, Kevin."
"'Night, boss."
As soon as the door is shut behind the teen, Castiel turns to stare out the window again. He steeples his fingers and rests his index fingers against his chin as he watches the sunset.
He is concerned about Abaddon. She's a wild card, completely "off her rocker," as Dean would say. She holds a grudge against him, and Castiel still doesn't have a clear picture as to why. Not that it matters. None of it matters. She won't be putting a hand on any of his crew.
Castiel sighs deeply, settles into his chair, and thinks.
Bobby Singer trusts Dean Winchester implicitly with the care of his younger brother.
Bobby has watched helplessly as Dean has sacrificed over and over again, has given up nights and weekends and things he's wanted or needed to make sure that Sam comes first, that Sam is taken care of. Bobby is furious that Dean ever felt he needed to do so, and he hasn't spoken a kind word to John Winchester in almost a decade because of it.
So when Castiel came sniffing around, Bobby was prepared to tear the man apart limb from limb to make sure he wasn't taking advantage of Dean. Bobby knows that Dean would let himself be taken advantage of, without missing a beat, to make sure that Sam is taken care of. No matter how much it would hurt Dean, as long as Sam is safe, he would do anything.
Castiel was a surprise in many ways. He's intelligent and observant. His speech was quiet but powerful, like he knows he doesn't have to be loud to be heard. The way he dresses is nice but not overly so, not enough to draw attention to himself.
Most important for Bobby was that, when Castiel was in his kitchen, he had eyes only for Dean.
Maybe it's sappy, and maybe it was stupid to let them go. But Castiel looks at Dean like Dean is worth something, like Dean is valuable. Bobby knows that, of course, and he knows that Sam does, too, but it's something that others so rarely see in the boy. Bobby couldn't help but trust that Castiel was going to take care of the Winchesters.
A few weeks after he sees them for the last time, he still believes that.
When he sees Dean come into the tavern, the sight of him strengthens that belief tenfold.
Dean's eyes are bright as he scans the dining room for Bobby. His hair has been cut recently, and not by his own scissors this time. He's putting some weight on, so he's losing the gaunt look he's always had. His clothes are, like Castiel's, nice, but not too nice.
Probably most strikingly, there are no bruises on Dean's face.
Maybe seeing this teenage boy on the verge of health isn't that big a deal. Maybe seeing his green eyes sparkle wouldn't strike anyone else like it is Bobby. But Dean Winchester, as he is right now when he sees Bobby and grins wide and guileless, is one of the best things he's ever seen.
Sam gets home from school that night exhausted but happy. He tosses his bookbag into one of the armchairs in the living room and plops down onto the couch next to Dean.
Dean's eyes are glued to the TV, but he still asks, "How was school, kiddo?"
Sam shrugs. "All right."
This is a lie. School is great. It's amazing. Sam has never been to a private school before, and he's never been so challenged. There are some classes in which he has to work to keep up with the rest of the class. It's exhilarating.
His only wish is that Dean would come with him.
His brother looks over and grins. "Yeah? They teaching you how to keep that big head of yours screwed on straight?"
Sam would say that he doesn't know where Dean got the idea that he's not very smart from, but it would be a lie. He knows that, until Sam himself was old enough to know how to fight back, their father spent Dean's life telling him that he's not smart, he's just a soldier, he's worthless. Sam has tried to tell Dean that none of that is true, but he thinks that his words fall on deaf, unbelieving ears. When Cas told Sam about the school, he asked about Dean attending, too. Cas answered that it was Dean's choice, and Dean scoffed when Sam confronted him about it.
"The book learning's all about you, Sammy, I'm just making sure you get there," was all he said.
No amount of protest from Sam has changed Dean's mind so far, which is annoying as hell.
"Something like that," he murmurs.
The only saving grace of the situation is that Dean seems to be on track to being a very, very good thief. Yeah, normally Sam would have some strong words about that, he would protest and fight and scream until Dean wasn't doing something illegal to put food on the table. The look of pride on Dean's face when he was finally able to use Jeff without ringing of the bells, though, erased all doubts from Sam's mind. Is it illegal? Yeah. Immoral? Definitely. But the shaky confidence in Dean's eyes when Castiel praised him for his work is worth more than any of that, in Sam's book.
Not to mention it's all so interesting.
Sam doesn't want to be a thief. He's actually thinking about being a lawyer, both because it's fascinating and because he thinks his brother might need to be bailed out of jail someday, and it's about time he was able to help Dean. The way that Castiel does theft, and therefore is teaching his crew how to steal, is kind of amazing.
It's things like making sure you brush your teeth with flavorless toothpaste before you go out, to make sure you don't smell like whatever food you just ate or minty toothpaste. It's the selection of clothes for the day of "going out," to make sure that you perfectly blend into the crowd you're in. It's the way you walk, the way you talk, it's so in depth. Sam has seen the way Castiel speaks normally, upper class, but he can also slip into the vernacular (which was hilarious), or curse like a sailor, and none of the words sound rough or unfamiliar on his tongue.
It's worth mentioning that watching Dean practice his upper-crust speech has had Sam in stitches every time he hears it, too. He's getting good, though, and he'll get even better.
So, yeah. Sam wishes Dean wasn't doing this. He wishes they had any sort of normal childhood. He wishes that Dean didn't feel responsible for him. It's one of only two real downsides to this whole thing.
The other downside, of course, is the tension.
Every time Cas and Dean are in a room together, well, Benny calls it "eye fucking." Garth always protests and calls it "eye making love." Kevin and Sam both think it's just ridiculous. It's incredibly obvious that they want each other. The other boys lament that they haven't fallen into bed together yet, but Sam usually stays quiet when they discuss his big brother and their fearless leader.
Because Sam knows why they haven't.
For Castiel, he thinks it's about Dean's age and his own position of authority. He thinks Cas doesn't want to take advantage of Dean, or to use his own power over him to do the same.
For Dean, it all comes back to self-worth. Sam doesn't see any situation in which Dean feels like he's good enough for Castiel, no matter how much bullshit that may be.
So Sam doesn't get mad when they make goo-goo eyes at each other. He doesn't really complain when you could cut the tension with a knife. It doesn't bother him that they seem to orbit one another very carefully, never coming too close, but never going too far, either.
It really just breaks Sam's heart.
"Earth to Sam," Dean is saying. "You ready for dinner?"
Dean takes his place next to Castiel at the dinner table after he's helped Benny pass the food around, and for the five hundredth time, marvels at what his life is now.
Cas says he's taking Dean to some sort of outdoor concert this weekend, and he is stoked. Jeff is all well and good, after all, but he's not a real person. Dean is excited to get out into the real world to put himself to the test. Cas says he thinks Dean will do really well, and Dean's starting to believe him despite himself.
He passes food around for everyone, just letting the chatter of the crew wash over him. Garth's kind of loud, pitchy voice is always light and cheerful. The dude radiates happiness, and it's hard to be annoyed with him for it because he's so damn nice. Kevin is quiet, but smart, with a cutting sense of humor that almost always catches Dean off guard. Benny's voice is deep, and the Cajun accent hides the fact that he's shrewd as hell, taking in everything around him and drawing conclusions without a damn bit of it showing on his face. Sam, of course, is always nerding out at the table. The only reason his nose isn't shoved into a book right now is that Cas forbids it at the dinner table.
And then, of course, there's Cas.
Dean is aware of Cas in a way he's never been aware of another human being. Every word that rumbles out of Cas' mouth sends shivers up and down Dean's spine. The spark of pride in Cas' eyes during their lessons has Dean's chest puffing up and his own lips pulling up into a smile. Warmth always seems to radiate off of Cas, seeping into Dean's bones and making him feel safe.
Dean has never wanted someone like he wants Cas, nor has he ever been so sure that he can't act on it.
It's not the age thing, God knows Dean's done shadier shit with older men. It's just… Cas. Cas is smart, and good at the job, and caring, and a whole host of things that Dean is not. Dean's not oblivious, he knows that Cas wants him, but if they gave it a shot, and when it went downhill (because it would go downhill), where does that leave Sam? Homeless? Back in public school? Now that they've had a taste of this, Dean's not willing to let his little brother go back to that.
Not while he can do something about it, anyway.
So Dean smiles and jokes around with the crew, and hopes to God that Cas doesn't notice that he's avoiding his gaze.
That night, back in his office, Castiel picks up the phone and dials a number that he still has memorized by heart.
"Castiel," the smooth voice says, and he feels parts of him relax that he didn't realize were tense.
"Cain," he says warmly. "How are you?"
The older man hums. "I'm doing well. The bees are thriving, you know."
Castiel smiles. "You and your bees." His tone is warm with affection.
"I'm going to assume that you weren't calling just to make fun of me," Cain's voice is as fond as Castiel's is. "Is there something wrong, dear?"
Castiel heaves a sigh. "Several things."
"Start with the least troubling, we'll work our way backward."
He runs a hand through his hair. He knows it does nothing to help its unruliness, but it's an old habit that he can't seem to break, especially late at night when his mind is heavy with worries. "Well… It's a boy."
"Isn't it always?"
"He's just… He's wonderful. He's thoughtful and kind, he takes care of his younger brother, he's entirely selfless." He's rambling, God help him.
"You've taken him as part of the crew?"
"I have."
"How is he?"
"He's…" Castiel closes his eyes. "He's incredible. I daresay he rivals you or I."
"That's quite a compliment coming from you."
"I mean every word."
"What is the trouble then, love? Don't tell me he's hideous, you've never been that shallow."
He smiles ruefully. "I wish that was the problem. No, he's extraordinarily beautiful."
"Then what's wrong?"
Castiel is quiet for a moment before answering. "How did you handle your attraction to me?"
Cain doesn't miss a beat. "I fucked you, dear."
Castiel is surprised into long, loud laughter. When he gets a hold of himself, "Before you fucked me."
"I was seducing you," Cain says, his deep voice smug as hell.
Castiel rolls his eyes. "You're insufferable."
"You love me."
"I do."
Cain hums. "What's holding you back from making this boy yours?"
"He's a boy, Cain. He's sixteen."
"So were you."
Castiel sighs and leans back in his chair. "So I was."
"What's the real problem, Castiel? Don't lie to me anymore, love." There's steel in Cain's voice, just a touch of the old hardness, and though Castiel is much more used to ordering his partners around now, it still makes him shudder with a whisper of want.
"He's… Softer than I was," he says gently, an apology in his tone. "He has suffered so, so much. I do not wish to add to his suffering, and I do not wish… I don't want him to think he's beholden to do this for me, or to let me do this to him, as some sort of payment for making him part of the crew."
There are several beats of silence while Cain absorbs that. "Can you not just tell him that?"
"I don't think he would believe me."
All those years ago, when Cain first propositioned Castiel, when he was still mostly long, skinny limbs and a burning desire to prove himself, it was easy to enter their arrangement knowing that it was entirely separate from their lessons. It was easy to let Cain rule him in bed, then argue with him while they talked about jobs. When they fell in love, it was easy to just let one another take over their whole lives. It wasn't until Castiel started to feel restless that it became clear that, as long as they'd been together, it wasn't to last. Sometimes, on his dark or difficult days, Castiel wonders if he didn't make a mistake.
Although, thinking of Dean's shining green eyes or the smile that's getting quicker and easier every day, it's hard to believe he didn't make the right call.
"I don't want to hurt him any more than he's been hurt."
"Oh, my," Cain says, and the love in his voice makes Castiel beam. "You don't just want him, you want him."
He sighs. "I do."
"Well, that's a bit of a different animal, isn't it?" Cain muses. "I advise patience, Castiel. You are impossible not to fall in love with, and if you've been making moon eyes at him like you did at me, he will come to you eventually."
"I did not make moon eyes at you!" Castiel splutters indignantly.
Cain chuckles. "Darling, that's all you made at me."
It's so easy to slip back into this banter with Cain. "You fell in love with my youthful elegance."
He can hear the smile in Cain's voice. "That I did, my love. That I did."
Castiel is struck with a fierce yearning for the man on the other end of the line. He knows he did the right thing, that at some point, he would have felt smothered and stifled if he'd stayed. It's moments like these, though, when he misses his life with Cain terribly.
"I love you, you know," he says softly, smiling wistfully.
"And I you, my dear," Cain responds immediately. "But I think that I will not be the sole inhabitant of your heart soon, hmm?" There is no jealousy or bitterness in his voice. When Castiel told him that he needed to go, Cain sent him with his blessing.
Castiel's smile widens. "I think… You may be right." He lets his smile slip away as he remembers, again, that Dean is not his only concern.
Cain, ever the mind reader, beats him to the punch. "What else is bothering you?"
"Do you remember Abaddon?"
- All feedback is appreciated. The good, the bad, and the ugly, I welcome it all.
- *squinty eyes* This chapter can also go fuck itself. Vigorously.
