Sam was practically bounding around the room, stepping all over my feet as I weaved around the closed quarters, going to use the bathroom before we left.
"Hurry up." Sam hiccuped from excitement. I waved my hand at him and stepped into the gritty, all-tiles-and-no-paint room.
It reeked of cigarettes and cheap hookers. I hung over the sink for a moment, looking up at the water and…other secretions-stained mirror.
The brown outlines dripped down the reflective surface, making my stomach twist as my imagination generated all of the possible things that could actually be the stain of.
I ran the water for a moment, splashing my face and drying myself with my shirt.
What was I supposed to do? I needed to do whatever I could to protect Sam.
But was this really the right thing to do? To let a stranger do what I couldn't?
Would Sam grow to love him more than me?
I mean, what would happen when Cas was done babysitting would he ju-
I nearly jumped from my own skin as a grating knock broke my train of thought.
I fixed my hair—it was completely disheveled from me grabbing it so much—and left the bitter room.
Cas and Sam were waiting, complete polar opposites. Cas stood statuesque, shoulders level and his head lifted to accommodate my intrusive gaze. Sammy, on the other hand, was stepping from foot to foot, smiling brightly with sleep dust still in his eyes.
He held out his bag to me, despite how unbalanced it made him. I hauled it over my shoulders, and held Sam's right hand. Sam couldn't feel it, of course. But he knew it was there. And that was all that mattered.
Cas looked at the gesture, so juvenile and I almost expected him to crack a joke. Although, he didn't seem the joking type. At least not around strangers.
But he was still willing to take us in?
"Well…I'm very glad you're allowing me this small pleasure." The Officer said instead of a poor-taste comment on the hand-holding with your not-so-little brother.
"No, thank you, Officer." Sam chimed in.
"You can call me Castiel, Sam." Castiel said.
"Yes, Castiel." Sam said, without glancing back. Instead he opened the door, and drag me to where the Police Car sat.
"I have to check out first, Sam." I told him with an amused smile as he physically deflated.
"I'll cover that." Castiel said, opening the back door. He gave a verbal tour as he backed away toward the motel, presumably to check us out.
"Shotgun!" Sam called before I could even protest. I shut my mouth quickly, almost biting my own tongue.
"Sam, I swear." I growled playfully, "There's no way I'm riding in the back."
"Too late!" He mocked, skipping over to the passenger side and climbing in.
I ground my teeth together. That little shit.
Cas returned then, smirking at my obvious frustration. "Looks like you'll have to ride in the back." He bit back a chuckle.
"I swear I'm gonna…" I trailed off, ducking into the back.
As I did so, Cas held down my head, and touched my wrists, guiding me as Cops do with criminals in cuffs.
I gave him a look of confusion, and he jumped back, laughing nervously. "Force of habit." He claimed.
I just nodded and shut the door. He climbed in immediately after.
Him and Sam had a concrete conversation about Biology.
I couldn't follow.
Nor did I want to.
But I just watched the dark road. Watched the faded yellow lines pass by. Each segment stopping, and starting again just as quickly.
Periodically I'd get the feeling of "Wow is this really happening?" I'd try and tell myself it was perfectly logical.
But in the end, I knew I had a soft spot for this Police Man.
Maybe it was his own past being in semblance with mine, or perhaps it was his impressive appearance.
Or maybe a bit of both.
I couldn't help but want this from the beginning. The second he mentioned it, my mind filled with fantasies of the perfect life again.
The life I had when I was a toddler. And yes, it would be much different now.
But it could be good again.
Maybe he really did have an interest in me as well.
I knew well enough that plenty of girls did at my school.
But…
I looked at the streetlamps now. As the lights flashed by placing hazy dots in my vision.
Staining my retinas like the hotel mirror.
I wasn't gay, right?
I shifted again, placing my hands between my thighs.
Of course not.
I just never had a crush on a girl before.
Was I bisexual?
Was that okay?
I didn't see why not.
But at the same time, what would Sam think?
I wanted to ask myself what would my parents and friends think, but I realized I had none.
What about Cas?
Cas?
Huh. A nickname.
I realized with a pang I had started calling him 'Cas.'
I wondered what he'd think of that.
Him and Sam chatted earnestly about authors and classical books.
So he was a smartass too.
That made me grateful. Sam could have a tutor now.
Well, if Cas would agree.
I mean, why did I expect so much from him?
He was willing to give us a home and I wanted more?
I mentally kicked myself for such a selfish thought.
Before I could reevaluate my previous thoughts, the car stopped.
"Here we are." Castiel said and Sam let out a mew of joy, jumping over the seat and squeezing Cas in his right arm.
"Sam," I chastised him for his puppy-like ways of affection.
"Sorry." He blushed. "I just…thank you."
But I couldn't help but feel like hugging the man as well. His house was a beautiful 2-story corner home, with a winding staircase visible in the brightly-lit windows.
I could imagine it covered in tacky wallpaper and all hardwood floors.
It was grand. But somehow there was nothing over-the-top about it.
It suited Castiel.
"Would you like a tour?" He asked with a smile that told me even if I'd said no, he'd give us one anyway.
"Ye-es!" Sam said, pouncing from the car, barely waiting for us to join him before he galloped up the walkway, illuminated by solar lanterns on either side.
"It's a magnificent property." I complimented.
"Oh, it's nothing really." He waved his hand appreciatively, though.
I figured he'd be either an egotistic prick, or a total modest.
He was, thankfully, the latter of the two.
"You really don't have to do this.." I added quietly.
"Now, Dean." He placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly.
I gritted my teeth as he festered a bruise.
"Please, I want…" He paused, dropping his hand. "I need to do this."
"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Because I can't let you and your brother out on the streets, I simply can't." He said, genuine compassion in his tone.
"I can pay you." I said, and before he could protest, I continued. "Don't even say no. It isn't my style to be some free-loader. And don't say we won't be because that isn't true. I can give you enough to pay for our expenses every month. Whatever it may be." I forgot to breathe in between, suddenly raking in a breath at the end of my lecture.
He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted when we reached the door. He unlocked it and we stepped inside.
"I'll accept half of what you expected to pay for an apartment." He said, I could've argued but I was too busy looking.
Most of what I imagined was true. Except, it was so much more than wood floors and old wallpaper.
The ceilings were vaulted and the entire room smelled of books.
Probably due to the entire wall of bookshelves, stocked with enough books to fill my school library.
Sam's and my own mouth had gaped in awe.
"This is the den." He offered, letting us take in the large TV to the back wall, the plush navy couches and single corner lamp, all other light coming in from the kitchen to our left.
He took us over to the kitchen, where everything was cherry wood cabinets and marble countertops. Stainless steel appliances and spotless countertops.
The fridge was void of any personal photos or reminders.
It looked fit for a professional chef.
In the middle was a clean island, with a woodblock of knifes and cutting board.
He welcomed us into the dining room, with Victorian chairs and a table capable of fitting 16 guests.
Then we went upstairs, the winding staircase polished and smelled of lemon cleanser.
Upstairs was a bathroom, three spare rooms, which we could choose from, and Castiel's room, which was surprisingly plain. A single king bed, with a canopy. The sheets were the color of his eyes, and I found that adorable.
Adorable?
But it just had a nightstand and another bookshelf, a dresser, and his own bathroom.
He said if we wanted to take showers at the same time we were welcome to use his.
That was one of the most taken-for-granted luxuries I'd ever heard.
No more hearing Sam bitch and moan while trying to get one off in the shower.
"Oh thank god." Sam exhaled "Dean takes forever." And he glared at me, pursing his lips. He knew. Of course he knew. But the way he had just said it. Looking at me, and peering at Cas like it was some fucking invitation.
He might as well have said "Hey Castiel Dean jerks off in the shower and he wishes you would help him."
So? Sam shut the fuck up, I wanted to say.
But I just blabbered and blushed.
Blushed?
Cas gave me the most sympathetic look of the entire night.
I blushed harder
Blushed?
I threw my hands in my face now. "Sam you're a bitch."
"Jerk." Sam stuck his tongue out before skipping away to tour the house on his own.
We were left alone then. My cheeks were red hot, and I could feel sweat forming on my brow.
He just looked at me, eyes soft and laughing.
Dammit, just say something!
"So, it's hard to get privacy at your house?" He asked, although it could'e been aimed in general, we both knew it wasn't.
Oh god what is he even asking?
"Uh…" I just sat there, hands hot and itching.
"Yeah, I remember the days." He said, removing the things from his utility belt, and then the belt.
He ripped it from the loops with a loud slap.
I gulped.
"Never a moment to myself." He said, hanging the belt up in a specific spot on the back of his door.
I noticed, he had to close the door to reach it.
Oh god.
"You have any siblings?" I asked, my voice ragged and meek.
He nodded. "Many siblings."
"Ah."
"Yeah." He began unbuttoning his shirt. I reeled back and my mouth went dry.
He noticed my actions and stopped, "Do you mind?" He asked, motioning to himself.
I could say yes. But wouldn't that just make it more obvious?
Make what obvious?
That I was into him?
Was I into him?
"No." I concluded, and sat on the bed.
Did he think now I wanted to see him strip?
Did I want to see him strip?
He smiled, mischief in his eyes.
He unbuttoned his shirt, more and more pale, hard flesh revealed with every button.
I watched as a dark trail began to appear. He undid the last button and pulled the tails of his shirt from his pants.
The dark hairs disappeared under his waistline.
I watched, mesmerized. God I hated it but I wanted to see more.
"Dean?" Cas asked.
And I jerked to look up at him.
He was closer than I remembered. Only a foot away, looking down at me. That trail was level with my mouth. I could have sobbed.
"Yes?"
"Will you show me now?" I looked up at him and the confusion on my face was enough for him to elaborate.
"You said you'd show me what your father did to you…later." He sounded very quiet. Outside of himself. He was unsure, and it didn't seem like him at all. "It's…later..now."
I wanted to say no. But he was showing himself to me.
And as he turned to place his shirt in the hamper, I saw harsh scars across his back.
Were those…whip marks?
He trusted me with his wounds.
He was letting me stay in his home.
I nodded gently once he'd turned back around.
"You sure?" He pursued.
I felt tears prick my eyes. I shook my head.
"I'm sorry, Dean." He whispered sitting next to me.
"Don't be."
"I just…I want to help you." He sounded hoarse, as if he were getting emotional himself. "I just…I must help you."
"Why do you keep saying that?" I asked, touching the hem of my shirt. I could remove it, take it off and have him wrap me up and fix me.
I flickered my attention to the blood stains on my legs.
I needed to clean my thigh anyway.
I felt a pulse in my groin as I thought of him tending to the wound, on his knees. Me…only in my boxer briefs.
What the fuck Dean?
"It' why I'm a cop, Dean." He said after a few moments. "Because…people like…like your father…and my step-father…" He bit his lip, and I turned to him, aware of just how close he was, how warm he was.
How open and raw he was.
"They need to be punished for what they do." He snarled. "And kids like you and your brother," his rage, as quickly as it had flared, dissipated. "deserve redemption and…they deserve a place to call home. At least."
I felt my heart clench at his words.
It was such a cliché about police men being heroes today. All they really did anymore was give out tickets and sit on their asses, watching the world around them fall apart.
But looking at Cas, I realized, he was a hero.
He was taking me and Sam, and saving us.
He was pulling us out of hell.
And he wanted to.
Because he refused to watch anything bad happen under his control.
I could understand it after that moment.
His relationship with me, was much like mine with Sam.