Chapter 1

"You'll understand when you're older, Dean."

Mary remembered speaking those few words to her son many years ago. It was just so she could answer a simple question with a simple answer for Dean was too young and far too innocent to acknowledge such controversy. But that was then. Dean had grown into a fine young man – strong, intelligent, and a trait Mary wished he had not inherited, stubbornness – just like his father. His emerald eyes resembled and were of the exact imitation of John's. And just like John's, Dean's eyes provided warmth and welcome to those whom he cherish.

"Let me help," John appeared by her side, gently grabbing the plate she was washing from her hands.

Startled, Mary stumbled backwards a little and John let out a soft chuckle. "I see you're done mowing the lawn."

"And done the groceries and watered the plants."

"But we don't have any plants," Mary turned to her husband just in time for John to peck her on the cheek.

Their eyes met and Mary noticed his were vibrant with joy and excitement. "We do now." John spun round to present to her the pots of Gardenia's arranged orderly by the entrance of the kitchen.

Plants like these were uncommon in Capital City, let alone in regular homes. Other than green grassy plains and meadows, no one have had a chance of viewing the variety of colours that bloom as beautiful as they were depicted in movies and pictures that were of more than a hundred years old. It seemed silly that even though the world had reached an era of advanced technology – and still growing by the day – the abundant species of plants had reduced drastically as more forest were cleared for building new homes and swimming pools. Usually, the only plants Mary had ever seen were the stand-alone trees planted accordingly along the streets and the fields not far from their backyard. Flowers, on the contrary, this was her first time gazing at them. Her palm was hovering over her chest as Mary approached the white flowers in pots.

"Oh, John, they're beautiful! What are they?"

"They're called Gardenias." John wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"But where did you get them?"

"Not me." John gestured to the living room and there stood a man dressed in a luxurious business suit, settling his luggage by the couch. The stranger tugged at his torso, running his fingers along his suit to straighten the fabric. His short messy bed hair attacked at every possible direction and his dry lips curved into a smile as he looked around the living room, admiration obvious in his eyes. Although the walls were present, they displayed sceneries of the outskirts with ranges of mountains and rivers. It was as if the pure white furniture were placed in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing other than nature. A rectangular screen hovered freely above the ground a few metres away from the main couch; another holographic projection. Though it looked like he was stepping on grass, Castiel knew he was standing on planes of glass depicting images of grass to match the sceneries on the walls. The ceiling resembled clear blue skies with puffs of clouds above. The living room alone was amazing and Castiel couldn't help wondering what his bedroom would be like. When he noticed the Winchesters, his smile widened.

"Hello, you must be Mary Winchester," he walked up to Mary reaching out his hand, "I'm Castiel Novak. I'll be the officer in charge of this household for the following six months."

"Call me Mary."

Castiel was handsome with the compliments of his stunning blue eyes and charming smile. Built lean and slim, he seemed like an athlete or more of a runner. Instead, he was nothing like Dean's muscular physique. He was tall, but not as tall as Dean and definitely, not even close to Sam's height.

Mary had always wondered how Sam could outgrow all of them, reaching a height of 6 foot 4. Some answer-searching went on for years until finally, Mary decided to let it be and watch Sam risk hitting his head every time he entered through their front door. She could swear that her son would one day suffer from a concussion by an accidental collision with the low-built door frame.

"So, is this to your liking so far, Castiel?" asked John.

"Oh, this is beyond satisfactory," the young officer nodded enthusiastically, "This is my first time leaving the big city to travel to the outskirts. I have to say, I'm looking forward to seeing the fields."

"I suppose this is your first assignment then?"

"Indeed."

Then Mary said, "Well, I hope you have a great time here. There are many places to visit. Maybe you can get Dean to show you around."

"It'll be splendid," Castiel's eyes brightened, "Are you sure Dean wouldn't mind?"

"Just say 'Mom's orders'," Castiel laughed when Mrs. Winchester winked at him, "I'll go finish washing up the dishes. Make yourself at home."

"I will. Thank you."

"So, guest of honour," John clapped his hands together and Castiel straightened his back, "you can't say you've been to the Winchester household without first trying my wife's homemade apple pie."

"I would love to."

John could do nothing to wipe off the grin plastered on his face. Castiel was a good man, he thought and John was somehow certain that the young Castiel Novak would make an excellent addition to their family. So he threw his arm over the man's shoulders guiding him to the kitchen table. It was as though John saw him as an essential part of his family and nothing less. That was when Castiel spoke again, "When am I going to meet Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"Oh, they're in the fields."

Dean was crouched over, his palms pressed against his knees to keep his upper body from falling. His black shirt was damp and sticky from his profuse sweating. Soft cold breeze blew pass him and the green grass beneath him swayed just a little from the wind. His back rose and fell as Dean tried to maintain his balance in breathing. There was a sudden slap on his back, followed by an exhausted laugh.

"You're getting too old for this, Dean."

Sam stood, towering over him making Dean look smaller than ever.

"Well, I think I can still kick your ass!"

Without warning, Dean spun to his side and tackled his brother onto the ground. Wrestling to keep Sam under control, Dean succeeded and climbed onto his brother's back, pinning him onto the ground with one knee on his spine. "Ha!" Dean exclaimed victoriously and proceeded to secure Sam's head with a headlock.

"Dean!" Sam struggled in vain, "Dean, Dean! You're breaking it!"

"What was that?" Though Dean pretended to act deaf, he loosened his grip a little but continued tormenting his little brother with his current stance.

"My neck! Myneckmyneckmyneck." No matter how hard Sam tried, he was still in his brother's death grip. Surrendering, Sam made a face and let his hands fall limp by his side, not bothering to make any movements.

"Sam?"

"Yeah," came Sam's muffled reply.

Finally, Dean let go and Sam took in a loud deep breath, trying to use up all the oxygen around him as a revival. "Weakling," Dean smirked and took larger strides, intending to leave his brother behind to catch up.

"Jerk," Sam scowled at Dean's back as he watched him walk away.

"Bitch."

Sam scowled again as Dean kept his back turned on him when he called him a bitch. He stepped forward and followed after Dean.

Along the way back home, the brothers constantly tackled each other. Both of them were hitting each other on their heads and arms as they walked through the plains where an ocean of red and white tulips awaits them. There were river banks with clear running water and valleys; the view was breath-taking.

Soon, they arrived at a residential area where all houses looked exactly the same. The buildings all had three stories, a wide porch, the walls were made of black polished glass which shone under the reflection of light and black tinted windows. Each home was given an identification number, and the Winchesters owned lot 349 house #6.

"Pie." Dean groaned like a zombie craving for brains which made Sam roll his eyes. With a sigh, he nudged his brother's arm, "Seriously, dude. Pie will be the death of you."

"I don't mind the happy ending, Sam."

"How are we even related?"

The front door swung open and Castiel turned to find two men stepping into the house. Covered in filth and dirt, both of them looked as if they had just escaped from an attack of the Garden Gnomes. One of them was taller than anyone Castiel had ever seen, which meant that would be Sam.

Castiel turned to look at the shorter man and decided that he was Dean.