"Oh. Good. Gracious." Balthazar sees his brother coming up the drive long before he reaches the front door, and he's waiting for him with a towel, a bowl of warm water, and a sigh when he steps in.

Castiel has his shoulders slumped and is staring forlornly at the floor, the ceiling, the wall, anywhere but at the one in front of him. Balthazar hands him the towel.

"What happened?"

"A boy hit me."

The older of the two smiles sadly before reaching out and wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulder. Castiel continues to dap at his bleeding nose as Balthazar leads him away from the entrance hall and living room towards the kitchen. "Honestly, Cassie, I'm surprised more people don't hit you. You have a gift for rather painful honesty."

"I do not see how this permits violence against me."

"It doesn't." Balthazar sets the water down on the counter and pulls Cas' now stained tie loose. "But that hardly matters. We're all human."

"How does our biology-"

"Cas, hold still. Let me have a look."

Obliging, Cas removes the towel from his nose and leans back for his brother to see. Bal smiles. "Doesn't look too bad. Nothing broke?"

He brings his hand up, pausing for permission. A simple blink from the stoic injured, and he gingerly begins to feel the cartilage. Another smile.

"Nothing broke."

"I do not understand what I did, Balthazar."

"Of course you don't." Is his brother's reply. He resumes where Cas has left off, dabbing the now wet rag across the blood drops and smears, trying to lighten the red on the white of his dress shirt with no luck. Absently, he continued. "Tell me what you said."

"It hardly seems useful to give you dialogue without context."

"Well, seeing as you tend to offend people with your words rather than your actions," Bal tugs on Cas' coat, and he lets it slide off into his brother's hands. "I thought it would be quicker to just hear that part."

Cas eyes Balthazar for a moment before seeming to come to the conclusion that the logic was there, and he replies. "'I am uninjured,' 'Yes,' 'Thank you-'"

Infinitely patient, Bal cuts in softly as he searches the kitchen for the cleaning bleach. "Right before he hit you, Castiel. What did you say right before this other boy hit you?"

"'One of the Winchester orphans.'"

Bal stops mid crouch before an open floor cabinet. He presses his eyes shut, stands, and sighs again. "No need to ask who hit you, then."