Flickers
Chapter 2
Fran Gipani
Disclaimer - I don't own Supernatural,I am just throwing the characters into the past for a bit and then putting them back where I found them :)
AN - Thank you to those who read and responded :) It really encourages me to write :) I was going to updtae this fic on Tuesday and do the same every week but then I finished and edited the chapter and thought why not haha :P Anywho I hope you enjoy and if you have the time please leave a review! :)
~Fran xx
"Look what I've got Sammy!"
Dean's shaggy brown haired brother was sitting on the floor near the window of their tiny, two roomed house, eyes closed. Anyone else would have thought him to be asleep but Dean knew him better. The lack of food meant that the easiest way to keep energy, and thus warmth, was to stay still. Though it was a relatively warm day outside, the temperature of the small place the brothers called home stayed cooler than was pleasant. Sam's eyelids snapped open to reveal two puppy-dog like orbs. "What is it Dean? And it's Sam, 'Sammy' was a chubby twelve year old, I'm nearly sixteen."
"Sammy," Dean said pointedly with a sly grin, "I tried nicking the bread from the baker but he caught me again and I was chucked out..."
"Dean! Didn't I tell you that was a bad idea? You're gonna' get yourself arrested!" Sam stood slowly, stretched his thin body.
"…but, this guy, Castiel Novak, he bought us two loaves of bread. They're fresh." He grinned, taking one of the loaves out and taking a knife from the draw. He cut a few slices and handed them to Sam, he then cut another for himself. Slow, methodical. The bread was warm, a comfort to him, and seemed to fill the gaping hunger he felt.
"Novak…" Sam took a small bite, "you know the Novak's live in the big sandstone building up on the hill?"
"I thought I knew the name…" he took another bite of the bread, chewed for a moment, "I wonder why he helped me then."
"I dunno' Dean," Sam frowned, before a small smile lit up his face, "maybe he likes you…" Sam said with a raise of his eyebrows, and grinned before bursting into laughter at the look of mock horror on Dean's face.
– O – O – O –
That night Cas lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the image of Dean's face flitting through his mind. I still know so little about him… The longer the lay there, the more his curiosity burned at the back of his mind. Leaving his last thought before sleep overtook his already heavy lids to be I need to go see him again…
The next morning Cas lulled himself into a state of consciousness, his dark hair a ruffled mess as he stumbled, bleary eyed, out of his four poster bed and to the bathroom adjoining to his room. He placed both his hands on either side of the sink; leaning there he stared at his reflection in the mirror. 'This is madness' his expression seemed to say. You met him yesterday! He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again only to think of Dean. "Ughh, stop it!" he muttered to himself.
Later t breakfast, Cas pushed his scrambled eggs around the plate, his mind still on Dean.
"What's wrong Cassie?" Michael raised an eyebrow, noticing Cas' half eaten plate of eggs.
"Not you too Michael," Cas quipped.
"What?"
"The nickname."
Michael shrugged, "anyway, what is it? You're usually a breakfast eater." he looked quizzically at his younger brother, more out of curiosity, than of care for his well being.
"I'm fine, just not hungry, that's all," Cas lied easily, "I'm going out." He pushed out is chair and walked the same route he had the day before, lifting his coat from the rack as he went.
Once he'd made his way to the town, he stopped, stared around. Where the hell could he be? I don't know whereabouts he lives…or even where he'd be on a Friday. He spun round, then back again, deciding to walk down the main street. The noise from the lines of shops either side of him almost covered the voice that called his name.
"Cas!"
He twirled round to face the sound of the voice. Just a little down the road sat Dean on a small wooden stool, in his lap were a sketch book and pencil. Next to where he sat were a number of beautiful sketches, of the landscapes that surrounded the village and some of the village itself. Cas sauntered over, mouth agape, "Dean I…I didn't know you drew…"
"You never asked," Dean replied with a smile. "What brings you here?"
Cas sat next to him on the empty wooden stool, he waited for a moment before answering, "I…I wanted to see you again."
"Why me though? Why'd you help me? I'm nothing special; I'm a poor artist, struggling to keep my brother alive with the amount of money I make."
"You fascinate me…"
"I fascinate you?" Dean took a deep breath, "I've never been told that before, but now I think about it..."
"What?" Cas prompted slowly.
"…you fascinate me too."
Cas looked over to meet Dean's intense gaze, and was about to say something when Dean spoke up again.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
Cas nodded then paused for a moment, "But your drawings…"
"I have a bag for them," Dean smiled, "come on…I know the best place to walk." In one fluid motion, Dean stood and pulled Cas up with him. He carefully shuffled his drawings together and slipped them into his brown satchel.
They walked in silence down the main street, further away from Cas' house. People pushed past them walking in the other direction, no one seemed to care the two men walking so close to each other, or that their difference in class meant that they weren't meant to be talking. Dean in his patched up brown pants, and worn black coat, Cas in a perfectly sewn long coat, top hat and neatly pressed shirt. They made quite a pair.
"Where are we going?" Cas asked curiously, a smile flooding his face at the look of pure joy on Dean's.
"You'll see."
They walked for a few more minutes down the cobbled stone main street, before Dean linked his arm with Cas' and pulled him down a shadowy side street. The buildings either side, growing their own twist of green vines and leafy plants. When they reached the end of the buildings, Dean stopped, pulling Cas to a halt next to him. He waited a few seconds before dragging Cas to the right and both chuckling now they stumbled towards a dirt path. It led down a sloping hill to a small river. The only sound now, of their subsiding laughter and the quiet sound of the river. Dean fell back tugging Cas with him, they both lay their backs onto the soft grass together, staring up at the clear blue sky.
"I come here to draw sometimes, I like the quiet." Dean turned his head to meet Cas' blue eyed gaze.
"It's beautiful…"
"What do you like to do Cas?"
"I read," he smiled slightly; "I've never been that creative. And mother would much rather me doing sports but..."
"…but you'd rather be reading?" Dean finished for him.
"Yes," Cas chuckled.
"My father was the same; he did hunting as a sport professionally but abhorred my love of art."
"If you don't mind me asking, but you said 'was'?"
"He left us when we were very young, and our mother died soon after Sammy was born. Last I heard he died on one of his hunts. It's just me and Sammy now." Dean sighed heavily, "but enough of my sad sob story. What's your family like?"
Cas took Dean's comment as a note that he didn't want to talk about it further. "My family, I have two older brothers. Both high achievers, Michael is part of the law and police department and Gabriel is training to become a doctor, though he's a practical joker so I am not sure how much that trait will help." He took a deep breath, rolling his head to face the sky again, "my father is also in law and my mother just stays at home to run the estate, but she has a big influence on us."
They lay in silence a while more, the clouds came and went overhead. No rain, much to the relief of the pair. Both just happy in each others company. Eventually Dean looked over at Cas' relaxed form, slipping his right hand into Cas' left. "I think I love you Castiel Novak."
Cas paused for a moment, letting the words sink in, the feeling of Dean's hand in his sending tingles up his arm, "that's good Dean Winchester, because I think I love you too."