Seems I'm not alone at being alone
A hundred billion castaways
Lookin' for a home
Message in a Bottle - Sting
(To)
(My dear brother)
Dear Gabriel,
Sorry that I haven't written in a while. Father has been insisting on my help with all of the weekend and after-school events at the church, and I haven't had a minute to sit down in about two weeks. I think he's doing it on purpose, he suspects we still talk. Don't worry though, I would never allow him to see your address, although I have to warn you, I think they know you're not in Chicago anymore since Uriel came back from his trip there last month.
I missed you at Raphael's wedding last week. I know you wouldn't have enjoyed it a bit, but neither did I really. I was stuck showing people to their seats all day, and even then I wasn't supposed to talk to anyone who didn't already know me. Still, it was weird not having you there to laugh at people's stupid hats and things. Although I saw old Aunt Gloria there, she's not too bad I suppose. She remembered my name at least, and didn't ask me when I was going to be getting married like nearly every other person who noticed me did. Nobody asked where you were. I wonder what Father told them.
I'm still working on finishing the AP classes I started this year. Home school is still horribly boring, especially since Balthazar is finished everything now. He's started work at the church, helping Uriel organize community events and outreach programmes for the nearby towns- not that they're much interested in being reached out to. There's still a chance I can do that introductory teacher training course I was telling you about before you left, if I can manage to convince Father it's because I want to become an ecclesiastic scholar and help him to shape the future young minds of the church. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?
I know you're probably getting bored right about now so I'll finish this here. Maybe try to find time in your incredibly busy schedule to remember that not all your brothers are asses and write more than a three sentence postcard back this time, I know you can't possibly be that busy.
Stay safe,
Castiel
(Dear)
(To)
(Hey asshole)
Sammy,
Hope it's ok that I'm writing, wouldn't want to show you up in front of all your new college friends. Just checking that you're settled in okay really. Did you find out all of your semester and holiday dates yet?
The house feels weird without having to trip over twenty different books on the way out to the front door. It's too quiet, man. The garage is fine, Bobby was down for a few days last week after we left you in Memphis. I know you're only down the road but he said to remember that we're just here if you need anything brought down or collecting or whatever.
(We miss you.)
(Come back home. It's too boring being here on my own now.)
(Are you really not coming back?)
See you at Christmas break I guess. Don't be wasting all of your time on studying, you'll kill yourself with one of those law dictionaries someday. And by that, I mean I will. You're making us proud though whatever you do man, just remember that.
See ya soon,
Dean
Just a short interlude, more like chapter 6.5 than 7 really. Letters sent around 3 years before the start of 'Someday'. For some reason the strike-through isn't working very well (bit of a html fail), so if you can't see it, the bits with brackets '( )' around them are meant to be crossed out. Still, hope you enjoy!