Michael figured since Cas was out for the day, he may as well clean things up a bit. God knows Cas hadn't since he'd been out of school. He turned on the light to find a rather clean floor, except for some books beside the bed. He explored them: The Hatchet, Oliver Twist, Alice In Wonderland, and Charlotte Doyle... He smiled. He loved that his baby brother was actually their mother's twin, when it came to literary interest at least.
He found his laundry basket and put the sheets and the pillow cases, and any clothes at the bottom of the closet in it. He brought it down stairs and began to wash the four or five loads worth. How did this kid have any clothes to wear at all? Granted, the bed sheets and the blanket took up a load just by themselves. He sighed, trotting back up stairs. "Oh, Cas-..." He said, straightening some things along the mirror in the bathroom. He looked to the trash, and pulled the bag up, tying it neatly. He noticed a few spots of red on the side of the bag though.
His brow furrowed. What was that? Maybe he'd cut himself shaving and wiped it off with- He shrugged. Whatever. He took that bag down stairs and came back up again. He found a few towels in the bathroom floor, most were black, but there was a white one too, tossed off over by the cabinet. It looked like a last minute 'oh shit' incident. It was the towel that cas had used to clean himself up when Dean had come over unexpectedly soon a few days before. When he'd nearly crawled up to the balcony to get Cas' attention. (But, Michael didn't know that, of course.)
He picked up the pale cloth and studied it. That was a lot of red. He was hoping and pray to god it wasn't blood, but it was in small streaks at the dark points! Certainly, it wasn't what he thought it was... It couldn't be... He shook his head and bit his lip. He threw it onto the black towels, and wrapped it up in them so he didn't have to look at it anymore. He threw all the hand towels he'd found on the floor into the tub and washed his hands, as his phone was dialing Cas' number. "Cas, I want you to come home after you guys have dinner. Alright? I want you to come home, and we're gonna talk alright?" He said.
He soon after realized that the black towels were probably hiding a lot of the messes Cas made in here too. He'd gripped all the times Cas had felt so alone, and so scared, and angry, in his hands without even knowing it.
Cas looked around, confused at the sudden fear that the phone had offered him. Dean tugged on Castiel's jeans under the table. "What's wrong baby?" Dean asked, kissing his shoulder. "Sure, sure." Cas nodded as he replied. "Are you okay, Michael? Is everyone okay?"
Michael shook his head. "I don't know. You tell me when you get here, alright? I just want you to know that I love you, and I'm sorry that I haven't been here for you, like I should be- I know I work a lot, and I should be home more, and I'm sorry-" He said, sitting on the side of the tub. He didn't want to see the cloth that rested inside the tub. He also wasn't very comfortable knowing they were so close to him still. He whimpered. "I'm sorry, Cas. This is all my fault."
Cas shook his head. "Dean, I have to go. I have to go home." He stood up, and scooted out of the booth. He waved Dean off, and ran out of the diner. "Michael? Michael, I'm just a few blocks away. I'll be there in a minute, okay? Were you in my room?" He asked.
Micheal nodded, and felt another sob building up. "Cas, why didn't you tell me? We could've had you talk to someone, or tried another medicine, one that worked. Why didn't you tell me? God, why didn't I know? Why didn't I ever guess? I should have known-!" He wanted to hang up, and rage throughout the house, but he knew he wouldn't be okay until his baby brother was by his side. "Come home, okay? Come home. Come home, please, come home- You can't leave me. I'm trying, so hard, It's just so hard since Dad left, and I'm sorry- Please, come home-!"
Cas felt a tug on his shirt, and turned to see Dean walking to the car. He nodded. "Why would you even try walking?" He asked. "I don't mind taking you. What's wrong?"
Cas nodded hoping Dean would understand if he listened to his words to Michael. "Bubby, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was so sad. I felt like it'd hurt you. I knew it would, and I wanted to protect you. That's all. I thought I could handle it by myself. That I could just... be okay. I thought that, but I know I need to stop. I'm sorry, bubby-" He tried the nickname, knowing it'd make Michael feel like a good patron. "It's not your fault at all, okay? I promise. It has nothing to do with you at all. I swear."
Dean groaned. "God damn it." He swore under his breath, going well over thirty past the speed limit, trying to get to their destination as soon as possible. Cas leaned over and kissed Dean quickly before getting out of the car. "Stay here. I love you, and I'm so sorry about this. Thank you for tonight, for driving me-"
Dean waved him off. "Get inside, go on. I love you too. Call me if you need me later."
Cas looked back to the outside world then and turned his attention back to the phone call. "No, no, no. I'm just outside. Where are you bubby? I'm home. I'm going to come see you. Where're you at?"
"I'm upstairs." He said, the tension in his throat hurting him now. He was trying so hard not to cry. He tugged at the sides of his hair and listened for Cas. He dropped his phone, rushing out to the hall when he noticed the slamming of the front door and foot steps up the stairs.
Cas' eyes finally found Michael after searching each room before his own at the end of the hall. Their bodies crashed together, and Micheal fell to his knees in the floor. Cas couldn't sustain his weight! He tried his best to make sure he landed safely. He wrapped his arms around his older brothers head, and kissed at his hair. "Bubby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you-"
Cas bit his lip, trying not to break down now too. He knew his brother loved him. He didn't know he'd respond like this though. This was his fault. He should've cleaned up before he left. He held back a sigh of regret, and closed his eyes tightly, hugging Micheal closer. Michael cried into Cas' chest. "Can I see them? I wanna see." He said, leaning away and not bothering to wipe his face. Cas did it for him, with his sleeves.
"Why do you wanna see them?" He asked. "... I mean, I don't think it's going to help the situation, bubby."
"Let me see." He said, tugging at Cas' fingers that were on his face now instead of his shirt sleeves, ridding his tears. "I want to see. I need to know." He was more stern now. He had to compose himself!
Cas nodded, reluctantly, pulling the coverage away, up to his elbows. Dark skids and purple slices beamed up at them both. Bright pink scratches and a scabbing gash or two screamed at the sudden light. Cas started to cry almost immediately. He was so disgusted with the pale limbs he'd presented. "I'm so sorry-"
Michael shook his head and pulled Cas close again. Cas didn't know what else to do but to let Michael do so. His arms stayed extended though. He couldn't move. He sobbed with him and stared past his older brother, to the carpet of the hall. "I'm so sorry..." He whispered dryly.