On Friday, three seemingly unrelated things happened to Castiel: he failed his first dress inspection ever, he called Rachel and got a solid twenty minutes of unbilled therapy, and he went to church for mass.
The first happened right after school during ROTC practice, when he showed up in his wrinkled uniform that had been sitting at the bottom of his dirty clothes hamper since the last time he had worn it to a meeting. He'd been meaning to wash and iron it ever since Virgil had confronted him about missing the meetings on Monday and Wednesday, but then all he wanted to do when he was at home was curl up on the couch with one of Dean's old t-shirts on and his phone and fall asleep while watching Gilmore Girls reruns with Anna.
Thursday he had felt like he was slogging through waist deep water as soon as he got out of bed and come Friday he couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten let alone thought about dressing out in his uniform until he saw a reminder text from Gilda on his phone.
Cas knew that Gabriel was starting to get worried, especially since he had turned down going to the diner when the older man proposed it. The restaurant may have his favorite bacon, mushroom burger and the comforting, motherly presence of Barb, but it also had too many memories of the times that he and Dean had spent there associated with it too and it was quickly getting to the point that any reminder of the other man was enough to send him into an uncontrollable panic attack.
The first one had happened on Wednesday afternoon when Sam insisted they stop by the apartment to check whether or not his father and brother had been there since the younger boy had sweet talked his way into getting a new key from the landlord on Monday and seen first hand the aftermath of the destruction that John had caused. Cas hadn't been there for that, knowing it would be to hard to see bloodstains on the carpet or the empty spaces where all of his own stuff used to be stored next to Dean's before his boyfriend had just left it bundled up in trash bags in the apartment's hallway.
No, he'd stayed at the house and waited for Anna to get home from school, staring blankly at some home improvement show that Gabe had turned on and clutching his phone in his hand in the hopes that maybe Dean would call him; maybe Dean wasn't lost to him forever. But on Wednesday after Gabe had picked he, Anna, and Sam up from school, Cas had honestly thought he could handle sitting in the car while Sam and his brother ducked inside to see if anyone had been in the apartment over the last couple of days.
Then Gabe had trailed out of the building behind Sam who was clutching a stack of mail to his chest and given Cas a sad head shake. No, Dean wasn't there, hadn't been there; might never be there ever again. And Sam...well, that was what caused the panic attack because for the first time since all of this had started the younger boy was crying; his large frame shaking with silent sobs in the front seat of the car all the way back to the house as he clung to the mail that he had picked up from the apartment like it was the one thing that was going to save all of them from the mess that Cas had created.
He managed to stave off the sinking blackness that always accompanied his attacks until they had made it home and he had stumbled up to his bedroom, collapsing on the floor as soon as he had shut the door because his knees had just given up the ghost. Cas could distantly hear his brother comforting Sam as the two walked past his room towards their own, but his harsh breaths were loud enough that he couldn't exactly make out what they were saying.
Shutting his eyes and trying to imagine that Dean was there calming him didn't help because it just reminded him of everything he had lost and trying to count his breaths didn't work because they were coming too fast and the phantom voices of John bellowing at him for being a faggot and his own father cursing his unholy inclinations were making it hard to keep track of where each one began and ended.
But if he didn't calm down he was going to pass out and he knew that from experience, so he half-crawled, half-stumbled his way over to one of Dean's flannel over shirts that had been casually thrown over the back of his desk chair and pulled it down onto the floor with him. He fumbled with the fabric until he had it spread out over his lap so that he was looking at the outside and nodded to himself in an effort to convince himself that this would work, it had to work.
"O-one," he stuttered out on a gasping exhale, tracing one of the boxes of blue that made of the majority of the pattern with the tip of his finger before moving onto the next and the next; counting each one until his breathing had slowed down to a more sedate speed.
A sharp rap on his door brought him out of the reverie that he fell into to staring at the fabric and remembering all the times he had teased Dean about the Winchesters' obsession with flannel and Cas looked up in enough time to see Sam fiddling with a letter in his doorway, the younger boy's eyes red and face blotchy from crying. Which he hadn't exactly been feeling better, but seeing a reminder of all of the pain he had caused just made his chest clench hard one more time before he took in a deep breath and got it back under control.
"Um, I thought you could hold on to this," Sam said lowly, waving the letter in his hand absently before reaching out and carefully setting it on the foot of his bed. "Its um, Dean's SAT scores. They were in the mail today and I know you two wanted to open them together so…"
"Thanks, Sam," Castiel whispered earnestly, his heart breaking just a little from the way the other boy just nodded and rapped his knuckles on the door frame before wandering off; Sam was so like Dean in everything he did and he didn't even realize it.
He didn't touch the letter for hours, choosing instead to take a shower and then wander down to dinner so that he could make Gabriel happy by poking at his food before finally returning to his room and resolutely ignoring the envelope on his bed for another two hours while he did his homework. It was only when he went to bed that he finally moved it, but only to his nightstand so that he wouldn't put it on the mess that was his desk and lose it.
And then he didn't sleep because he was too afraid to take his eyes off of it because somewhere in his brain he felt like if he lost this letter then he had he would truly lose Dean. Dean had to come back for something, if not for him, for them, then for the letter. He was sure of it.
So it really wasn't any wonder that he showed up to school on Friday in his wrinkled dress uniform, missing his tie and his stripes, but sporting dark circles under eyes and a glare that was just disinterested and standoffish enough that no one besides his close circle of friends approached him all day.
"I can't believe what a baby he's being," Jo pondered aloud during study hall, their table empty except for her and Cas since as far as she knew, Dean was ditching school because of their fight. "Like seriously, first you take a week off to go play knight in shining denim in a whole 'nother state for your boyfriend and then you pick a fight with the same boyfriend and decide it's a good idea to never go back to school? He's going to get kicked out if he doesn't stop fucking around."
Cas made a noncommittal noise that was really more of a sigh and hoped that maybe Jo would just drop the subject of Dean's absence already, but he knew that she probably wouldn't. Each day that Dean didn't show up to school she was getting progressively more and more pissed off at the other boy for not having the balls to make up with his man already, her words. Also she was getting more creative in her attempts to contact Dean so that she could give him her opinion on the whole matter, already having called him almost as much as Cas had and then calling Bobby who just didn't answer his phone either before attempting to hunt down Sam who Cas had seen actively hiding behind Gilda in an effort to avoid the other girl.
Apparently everyone who was in the know about what was actually going on with Dean was employing the avoidance tactic when it came to Jo, but Cas had no way to do the same since he had multiple classes with her and she was like the pack mom of their group. It was in her nature to want to fix all of their problems for them, whether because her personality was just that aggressive or she had some compulsive need to have order in her life Cas wasn't sure but he didn't know how much longer he could keep lying to her without snapping.
"Well I'm going over to his place today to give him a piece of my mind," Jo continued, bolstered by the 'hmmm' Castiel had given her in lieu of a real response. "And if he's not there then I'm going to Bobby's to drag him away from whatever junker he's buried himself under so that you two can sort this shit out."
"What if we can't, Jo?" Cas replied softly, his voice cracking from disuse before he cleared his throat and continued in a tired, defeated tone. "What if he can't forgive me?"
"I highly doubt you're the one who should be begging for forgiveness," Jo said with a dismissive wave, flicking her hair over her shoulder before she went back to conjugating French verbs in her spiral notebook. "Dean's little habit of sabotaging anything good in his life is getting old and frankly, he needs to get over himself. You shouldn't be worried about whether or not he'll forgive you, he should be worried about whether or not you'll take his sorry monoga-phobe ass back."
"Monoga-phobe?" Cas asked frowning down at his own conjugations for the same homework that looked nothing like Jo's, he knew that he had been distracted during class but he didn't know that he had been that distracted.
"Yea, Dean's been self-sabotaging his relationships for as long as I can remember," Jo explained with a snort of derision. "And I'm so over it. He's scared of monogamy and he's going to lose the one person who actively wants to deal with that if he's not careful. Seriously Cas, if he weren't practically my brother than I would tell you that you could do so much better. Hell, if you weren't gay I'd date you myself."
"So how's Adam?" he asked, attempting to make it into a joke since he knew that Jo's boyfriend is fine; the sophomore sat with them everyday at lunch and though he hasn't really been paying attention to what's been going on around him since he's been so lost in worrying about Dean, he at least knew that Adam had been there.
Jo's heavy sigh made him actually look up from where he was scribbling out all of his incorrect answers on his homework to see his friend pushing an agitated hand through her hair and just shaking her head.
"He's...its been a weird week," Jo said quickly, waving her hand after she said it and perking back up to smile at him though it seemed pretty forced from where Castiel was sitting. "But, anyway. Are you gonna come with me to Dean's tonight? You can wait in the truck while I talk some sense into him if you want, so you don't have to see him right away."
"I've got ROTC," Cas said, his stomach squirming guiltily as he said it because he knew that Jo was wasting her time going to the apartment; it didn't look like Dean or anyone had stepped foot into the home all week according to Gabe and he doubted that his boyfriend had come back since the day before when his brother had gone with Sam to check. "But uh...if you're already over there stop by Meg's, she's been calling me about wedding stuff and I just don't have time for it this week. Still catching up on homework from being gone, y'know."
It was a lie, all of it it except for the ROTC part. Meg hadn't been calling him about the wedding, but she's texted him once or twice about all his stuff from Dean's apartment that he had just left there asking if he wanted her to bring it to him. And he's been ahead on his homework since before going to Chicago for the trial, hell he was ahead in pretty much all of his classes without even trying.
"Okay, yea," Jo agreed easily, shrugging because she didn't know how much of a deceitful fucking snake Cas was. "But if Dean's home I'm dragging him over there with me to punish him, plus your tuxes are going to need to match so he'll need to know what color Meg picked for all of us to wear."
Castiel just nodded, feeling nauseous from all of his lies and scared to open his mouth lest any more come out so he just hmm'd along as Jo continued to chatter about the little bit of wedding planning Meg had already done, spring break, prom, graduation; pretty much anything besides their respective boyfriends. Which Cas was fine with even though it made his heart ache just a bit, it was really fine. Really.
That dull throbbing sensation stayed with him through the rest of the day, spiking sharply enough to make him clutch at his chest in pain or suck in a sharp breath anytime he heard one of his friends say Dean's name, but he managed to pass it off as coughing or being tired when Ash or Becky would shoot him a concerned look. Everyone else seemed oblivious of his strange behavior, after all he had been acting like this all week so it was quickly getting to the point where his silence and brooding wasn't uncommon anymore.
By the time ROTC rolled around Cas had a tension headache making his eyes feel like they were throbbing and he was achy all over from the nervous clenching of his muscles everytime he stepped into the loud, overcrowded hallway. He'd never noticed how chaotic school was before or maybe he had and having Dean walking through the corridors with him had helped him ignore the shrill chatter of the girls and the raucous rough housing of Alistair and all the guys on the football team; either way having to push down his fight or flight mechanism all week was wearing him thin, constant vigilance was tiring.
He wearily slumped into Virgil's classroom at the end of the day, hoping that the ROTC meeting would be as quick and as painless as possible because he wasn't prepared for it in the slightest. Cas hefted his messenger bag onto his usual desk and tried to arrange himself so that the wrinkles on his uniform would appear less prominent. He was hoping that maybe Virgil would give him a pass for missing pieces of his uniform or wondering if he buttoned up his jacket then the fact that is tie was missing wouldn't be noticed. Hell he'd skipped dress inspection before to go make out with his boyfriend who had just given him his first blowjob and the older man hadn't even said anything to him about it on Monday so he highly doubted that his squad leader would say something to him now.
"Cadets, on your feet for inspection," Virgil ordered, sweeping into the room in his own Marine dress uniform that he wore to show solidarity with the cadets who had to dress out every Friday. "Parade rest will do."
Castiel managed to clamber to his feet and get his hands tucked behind his back with no issues, but try as he might he couldn't lift his head up so his eyes were focused forward and his posture was straight; it just felt so heavy and staring at Virgil's own dress shoes that were polished to a mirror like shine was just easier. He wondered idly if the older man rubbed canola oil on them before he left the house, but then shook his head to clear the thought because that was just silly; oil would make the shoes all slippy.
""Novak!" the older man barked, causing Castiel to jump and finally look up from where he had started admiring the crease in Kevin's dress slacks because damn, he could use a whole can of starch and never get his creases that sharp. "Are we boring you, cadet?"
"No," Cas replied, his limbs moving jerkily to get into the proper position for parade rest; feet planted shoulder width apart, hands behind the back, shoulders back, eyes straight, chin up-
"No, what?" Virgil asked, his voice getting softer and more firm as he crossed the room from where he had been checking Adam's uniform.
The older man had never been big on the whole yelling thing that most drill sergeants bought into, pulling out that particular cliche only when he needed to get someone's attention during their workouts on Wednesdays or at games when the rifle team was getting ready to go onto the field. But he was big on respect, in fact the ROTC had done a whole section on the hierarchy of the military and why respect was important to every rank and branch therein; as soon as Castiel heard the 'what' leave Virgil's lips he knew he had royally fucked up.
"No, sir, squad leader, sir," he answered, trying force his trembling hands to stop shaking behind his back; he wasn't scared, really.
He just wasn't used to not having it together, even when he had been a mess at the beginning of the school year he had still managed to hide the fact that he was a nervous wreck most of the time. The only person who had been able to see through the mask of indifference then was Dean who had just blown through every overly-defensive wall be had built like they hadn't existed in the first place and now he didn't know how to build them back up. He needed those walls to keep him sane and they weren't fucking there!
"Better," Virgil said in an impatient, clipped tone; clicking his heels together sharply as he stopped in front of Castiel and gave his uniform a slow once over from head to toe. "Now, since you have my attention…"
Cas felt like he could physically feel the other man's eyes narrowing on the blank span of fabric where his stripes were supposed to go and his open collar that had felt weird and suffocating without his tie; he blew out a slow breath through his nose and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting a million excuses about why he was so obviously falling apart. Surely if anyone would be able to pick out the truth about Dean by just looking at the dark circles under his eyes or the wrinkles in his uniform jacket, it would the sharp-eyed ex-Marine in front of him and Cas wasn't sure if he could handle everyone knowing how much he had fucked up just yet. He could take them hating him once his boyfriend was home and safe, then he would have at least one ally.
"Jesús Cristo. Just sit down, Castiel," Virgil muttered with a sigh, lifting a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a second before taking a wide step over to Kevin who was standing with perfect posture in the aisle next to Castiel. "Tran, nice creases. Tell your mother to lighten up on the starch though."
"YES, SIR!" Kevin shouted, his cheeks flushing from the older man's comment and giving him away causing Cas to grin genuinely for the first time all week.
The expression felt wrong on his face just seconds later and Castiel slumped low in his seat once he remembered that he had no right to smile about anything while Dean was still missing. He managed to at least feign attention as Virgil kept going around the room, pausing to straighten another cadet's tie before giving her the nod of approval and muttering to one stricken looking Freshman about how he needed to take extra care to not walk in puddles while wearing his dress shoes, but honestly his head was in the same place that his heart was and he was seriously wondering why he had bothered showing up to the meeting at all.
"At ease, cadets," Virgil announced, waving to room at large as he moved to take his usual spot at the front of the room, rocking on the balls of his feet slightly as he stopped and put his own hands behind his back. "Now as I told you on Wednesday, today's meeting will be short due to another appointment I have, but the dress inspections are improving. I expect by spring break you will all actually look like a cohesive squad. For today though you can all turn in your assignments regarding combat survival skills and then you're dismissed."
A round of 'Yes, sir's sounded from various areas in the room and a few of the more enthusiastic cadets, Gilda and Adam included, snapped off salutes when they handed their homework to Virgil before leaving the room. Castiel however, was a bit slow on the uptake and before he knew it the room empty and he was he was left blinking dumbly through the fog of exhaustion as he tried to work out why Virgil had insisted that he even come to this stupid meeting if it was going to be over in five seconds anyway. With a sigh he gathered his bag and made to dig his cell phone out of his pocket so that he could call Gabe to come and get him.
"Castiel, stay for a moment," the teacher commanded without inflection, staring down at the stack of assignments that had been handed in to him as he made his way around his desk to sit down.
Cas hesitated, unsure if he was about to be reprimanded for his utter inability to turn out for a dress inspection when explicitly asked to but frankly terrified about whatever it was that Virgil was about to say to him. Maybe he was going to tell him he was an embarrassment to his stripes and kick him out of the ROTC. Maybe he was going to tell him he knew it why Dean was gone and blame him for making his volunteer grader drop out of school. Maybe he was…
"I need you to come to the meeting early next Monday to help me prepare a gun maintenance demonstration," Virgil explained, sliding the papers in his hand into a expanding file folder that he then put neatly into his soft-sided leather briefcase. "I've already spoken with your last period teacher and they are fine with you leaving class half an hour early to assist me."
"Oh-okay," Castiel stuttered out, rubbing his forehead in confusion because this felt a little like a reward. He liked cleaning guns, but he'd been the worst example of a ROTC cadet lately; hell he'd been the worst example of a human being lately, he definitely didn't deserve a reward. "But…"
"But what, Novak?" Virgil asked raising a dark eyebrow before he stood up and began gathering his things like he was getting ready to go home.
"Shouldn't I be being punished or something?" Cas asked with a shrug because he felt like he should be, kinda already felt like he was being, and certainly knew that if a punishment hadn't already come than it was just going to be a matter of time. "I mean I missed like two weeks worth of meetings and you had to hunt me down so that I would come to this one at all and I totally freaking blew this dress inspection-"
"Cadet," the older man said in a voice that caused Castiel to instinctively straighten his spine so that even though his uniform was rumpled his posture would be something that his superior officer wouldn't find fault in. "If I thought that you could stay on your feet long enough to run a mile or two, that's what you'd be doing. But you look terrible and the kindest thing that I can do for you right now is send you home to get some rest."
"No," Cas replied shaking his head because he could feel the panic attack coming on. His vision narrowing until all he could see was the assignment for Virgil's Spanish class that Dean was supposed to be in but wasn't because of him and his breath coming in increasingly desperate gasps because his chest just would fucking expand to let him take a deeper breath. "I need...you need.. push-ups, jumping jacks, squat thrusts! I need you to make me do something to fix this."
"There's nothing to fix, Novak," Virgil said in what he probably thought was a really soothing voice; giving Castiel a firm squeeze on his shoulder that didn't help settle the buzzing turmoil going on in his head. "You're going through a rough time and I can empathize. The teen years are hard for everyone, now if you'll excuse me I have papers to grade. I'll see you on Monday."
He nodded, he supposed, but Cas couldn't really be sure of much of anything because as soon as he heard the door to Virgil's classroom click shut behind the teacher he left himself sink to the floor next to one of the desks; pushing the heels of his palms hard into his eyes in the hopes that the burst of pain would snap him out of the oncoming panic attack before he was too lost in it to do anything other but ride it out.
Logically Cas knew he should call Gabe immediately, spill about having panic attacks again, and beg for the other man to come and get him so he could go be sedated or something at a hospital until this was over. But the illogical part of him didn't want his brother to worry any more about him than he already was and when he reached for his phone to scramble madly through his contacts list, Cas's eyes landed on his therapist's number instead of Gabriel's.
Okay, Rachel wasn't technically his therapist anymore; not really. She had served her purpose by proving that all of his past insanity had been caused by his father and they had decided together that his final session with her before the trial would kinda sorta be his last, but he he still had her number and it was her job to help people and he was fucking people, okay?
By the time his call was picked up by Rachel's receptionist he barely had enough breath left in his lungs to stammer out his name and when he heard the familiar voice of the only person in his life besides Dean that he had ever opened up completely to in his ear all he could do was sob brokenly from where he was curled up in the fetal position on the chilly tile floor.
"Castiel?" Rachel's voice called to him through the phone, sounding too distant and too close all at once so that his only response was to wince away from the noise. "Cas, honey. I need you to talk to me, breathe and then talk to me."
"Can't. Breathe," He panted in reply, his stomach convulsing suddenly in a way that caused Castiel to hope against hope that there was a trash can nearby.
"Okay, breathe in now as deep as you can and hold it," Rachel instructed matter-of-factly and Cas felt like he really had no choice but to do exactly what he was told. "One, two, three. Release it slowly and then take another deep breath."
The first couple of breaths were ragged gasping things and he couldn't hold them for nearly as long as he normally would've been able to, barely as long as Rachel was trying to get him to, and his mind kept screaming out at him to take in more oxygen this wasn't enough he was going to die and never be able to tell Dean that he loved him ever again.
But after a couple of minutes it started to get easier to hear Rachel over his own pulse that was thundering in his ears and his muscles that had been vibrating with every nerve ending in his body screaming that he needed to Fight! No, Flight! No FIGHTflightfightflightfig-stopped twitching. His sobs quieted and turned into just tears that felt hot and caustic as they ran sideways across his face and dripped off his nose onto the tile floor, he wished they would burn through his skin and scar him so that he would be just as flawed and ugly on the outside as he was on the inside; like those brightly colored poisonous frogs in the Amazon, it would warn others away for their own good.
"Castiel, honey?" Rachel's voice asked from his phone, reminding him that it was there at all, pressed between his cheek and his hand against the floor. "Cas, are you still there? Where are you, are you in danger?"
"No," he managed to whimper softly in reply, curling tighter into himself because he had just realized how cold the floor was, but he wasn't sure if he could stand up just yet without falling right back over so on the floor he stayed. "I'm fine."
"You sound anything but fine," the therapist declared, not scoffing at him exactly, but Castiel could readily imagine the way the other woman's lips thinned when she was displeased that he wouldn't share with her. "I'm patient, Castiel. I can wait right here until you're ready to talk to me."
And he knew that of course, she had waited him out once before and he knew that she was more than capable of doing it again. Only now their relationship was different and he wasn't being silent in an effort to spite her, just until he stopped crying and got his breath back so that he could apologize for bothering her. Because he couldn't tell yet another person how he had failed Dean, he couldn't take seeing the judgment in anyone else's eyes for how he had handled everything; it was just another reason on top of many reasons why he had yet to tell his friends everything.
"Castiel, talk to me," Rachel said after a couple more minutes where the silence was only broken by Castiel's sniffles and the random, soft errant sobs that he just couldn't seem to stifle completely. "Tell me what's wrong."
"I-I can't," Cas managed to choke out, biting his lip hard as soon as he said it in order to hold back all the other words that wanted to come tumbling out.
"Okay," Rachel replied undeterred and Castiel could almost picture the serene way that she used to fold her hands on her desk when she was humoring him. "You don't have to tell me why you called me in the middle of a panic attack, just talk to me. Tell me whatever you want, Castiel. I'm just here to listen; I always will be."
"B-but, you're not my therapist anymore," Castiel stuttered, sucking in a breath that felt like a rusty knife slicing into his chest. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I-I'm so sorry."
"There's nothing to apologize for, Castiel," Rachel said, her tone taking on a softer lilt that reminded Cas of someone trying to appease a hysterical child. Fuck, maybe that's exactly what he was. "I would never have given you my personal number if I didn't want you to use it. In case you didn't know, that's not typical behavior for a therapist."
He managed a weak laugh at that, mostly because it felt like what Rachel wanted him to do, but it still sounded broken and slightly manic at least to him. Hopefully, the therapist wouldn't notice how cracked he had gotten in just the short week since she had last seen him at the trial in Chicago, but that felt like a lifetime ago.
"Talk to me, Cas," the woman said soothingly through the phone and after a few more endless seconds Castiel did.
It wasn't anything important because he knew that if he told her about what had happened with John she would insist on going to the police which would just be a waste of her time because Bobby had already talked to Sheriff Mills and nothing more could be done until the older man found Dean and John; it was kinda hard to put someone in jail when you couldn't fucking find them.
So he stuck to mundane stuff, like school and the fact that he hadn't finished any of his college applications yet because surely that was all stressful enough by itself to trigger a panic attack. At least he hoped that it would be enough to appease Rachel's seemingly unending supply of incredulity. He didn't even realize that his method of avoiding talking about what was really bothering him had given him away until he finished and of course then all Rachel had to say was-
"And how are you and Dean doing? I saw him at the trial, he seemed very supportive of you and your family. What are his college plans?"
Cas floundered, letting his mouth gape for a long moment before he snapped it shut and cleared the misery out of his throat. Honestly, he had no idea what Dean wanted to do with their future anymore or if the future was even 'theirs'; something they would share together. Especially since he was pretty sure he saw the tattered spiral notebook that he and Dean had used once upon a time to pass notes to each other stuffed in amongst all the other things that his boyfriend had left abandoned in the hallway outside his apartment and he knew that's where Dean's half finished applications for University of Kansas and Kansas State were.
So he lied. Through his fucking teeth.
"We want to go somewhere together, but since I don't know where that is for me its not really fair of me to hold him back. I wanted to be an engineer because that's what my father wanted and now...I just don't know. But Dean's so smart, Rachel, and so creative. He can do anything he wants to do and I have no idea where to even start."
Okay, maybe it wasn't all lies.
"Well maybe start some place you feel safe," the therapist recommended in a mild tone. "Go somewhere on your own and clear your head for a little bit. Let your brain learn how to breathe again. You've been in survival mode for so long, that your mind is panicking over having to make easy decisions. Give it a little time and you'll probably find that deep down you know what path is right for you."
Castiel hummed in acknowledgment because actually, it wasn't a half bad piece of advice considering that he hadn't really told Rachel what had triggered his panic attack. All he had been doing since John finding him and Dean together was hide out at his house; too afraid to leave in case he miss Bobby calling to tell him he'd found the missing Winchesters. Even going to school for the last week had been borderline torture, but he hadn't been able to talk Gabriel into letting him stay holed up in the disgusting nest of sweaty blankets that his bed had become.
Maybe he just needed to get out of his own head for a little bit and get some perspective on well...not just what was going on with Dean and John, but his whole fucking life.
"I think I might do that," Cas said after debating the issue to himself for a moment, nodding as if Rachel could see him through the phone. "I've kinda been a shut in since I got back from Chicago."
"I knew it," Rachel replied sounding slightly smug in a way that was totally not professional or therapeutic in the slightest, but it was still comforting even if the other woman really knew nothing. "Take a 'me day', Castiel. And then maybe make that handsome guy of yours take you out somewhere nice this weekend so you two can talk about your future; just don't stress about the things that are out of your control."
"I'll try," the boy promised, shifting his phone to cradle it between his shoulder and ear so that he could start to slowly pull himself to his feet using the desk closest to him. "And thanks, Rachel. For talking to me, you didn't have to I know."
"You can call me anytime, Castiel," she said, ignoring his apology altogether which kind of made him feel like less of a burden in a weird roundabout sort of way. "Call me at home if you need to. I consider you a friend and wouldn't mind hearing an update about where your life is going every now and then. And if you or Dean need a recommendation letter to help pad out your college applications, let me know. I have friends at both KSU and U of K and I promise that all the other seniors aren't above calling in favors to get a foot in the door."
"I think we'll be fine," Cas replied, grasping on to the thin sliver of hope that the other woman had given him and holding onto it with as much strength as his overwrought mind could manage.
"I have no doubt," Rachel agreed readily, causing Castiel to crack a small, genuine smile in response as he gathered his bag and hefted it onto his shoulder; only wincing slightly when it caused his fear stiffened muscles to protest. "Now go try to enjoy your weekend, dear. You deserve it."
He mumbled something that he hoped sounded like an agreement because he really really did not deserve to enjoy his weekend, but he didn't want Rachel to think he wasn't grateful that she had taken the time away from her real clients to speak with him. Cas only knew that he promised to call her if he needed her again and to send her an invitation to his and Dean's graduation, but really his mind was racing with all of the places where he could go and finally feel safe like he hadn't been able to since Dean had disappeared.
He felt safe at home, but Gabe had already pointed out that his refusal to leave the quickly fading smells of his boyfriend that still lingered in his bedclothes was starting to become a problem. And the diner was a no, because what if Barb asked him about Dean? Hiding and lying from his friends at school was already hard enough and Cas wasn't sure how much longer he could go on being dishonest with everyone who had been nothing but supportive of him since his first day at Lawrence High.
That left the park which he had been avoiding because he wasn't sure if he could pass the bench where he and Dean used to stargaze after movie night without having a literal breakdown and the Impala which had been sitting in Bobby's driveway since the older man had headed off to find Dean and John. Going to lurk in the car probably wasn't the best idea either, since Jody had been having her deputies patrol past the salvage yard just in case Dean turned up there and it wouldn't help anyone if Cas got arrested for trespassing. Plus their relationship had seen so many turning points in that car and fuck, it was so dumb to get sentimental over a giant hunk of metal but he could already feel tears welling up in his eyes as he thought of using the Impala as his place of refuge.
All of his safe places held memories of Dean because that's who had made him feel like he could be safe again after everything that had happened with his father. Dean had been the one to show him that it was okay to be exactly who he was and that his feelings were valid even if no one else understood them. Part of him realized that he was just acting pathetic and weak, but another, larger part screamed that it wasn't pathetic that he hadn't felt whole since Dean had disappeared; without Dean he wasn't. It felt like he was missing some vital part of himself- a limb or a lung, something was really really wrong with him.
He hadn't felt this way since...well, since he had first started at Lake Forest; a closeted gay kid starting at a prestigious, notoriously right-wing prep school. Back then he had felt wrong in his own skin and constantly sick over the fact that he had left behind everything that was familiar to him back in Pontiac, at least when he had been hiding who he was at home he still had his routines to fall back on.
Ultimately it wasn't until he realized that Lake Forest held Catholic and Jewish services as well as its more widely attended basic Christian services that he started feeling like he could breathe again. Granted, it didn't feel great to be told that everything he loved meant that he was headed straight to hell, but he had persevered and just tailored his religion to suit himself and the familiarity of Mass with its prayers and hymns had helped settle him until he had found ROTC halfway through his freshman year.
Weighing his options, Castiel gnawed on his lip in thought as he hefted his backpack onto his shoulder and started to trudge his way out of the school building. He was supposed to call Gabriel to come and get him one he was done with his meeting, but he wasn't really ready to go home yet; he wanted to at least try to see if Rachel's advice might help him feel like he wasn't on the verge of losing everything.
He tugged out his cell phone again as he shouldered his way through the exit doors nearest Virgil's classroom and sent his brother a text saying he was going to walk home since the day was unseasonably warm for early February. It wasn't going to the park and his normal route home wouldn't take him past the salvage yard on the edge of town or the diner that was in the opposite direction, same as Dean's apartment, so he considered it a fair compromise.
Cas had already taken off his uniform jacket and made it half a mile when his brother finally texted him back saying 'WTFE don't miss dinner'. Psh, nice to know that Gabriel's concern for him wasn't hindered by shaggy haired boys with hazel eyes.
The short five miles between his school and the house was just far enough for Castiel to realize that he was wandering with a purpose other than just getting home, cutting across side streets and zigging when he should have just zagged his way back onto the straightest, quickest path home. But honestly, it wasn't until he was actually standing on the sidewalk in front of St. John's that he felt the tightness in his chest release just a little bit.
The parking lot was mostly empty, just a few straggling penitents making their way towards the soft strains of piano music that was floating out of the doors that were propped open invitingly for the early evening Friday Mass. Cas had been back a couple of other times since his disastrous Thanksgiving confessional, for the early morning Mass that he could catch before school, and it hadn't been bad; so far the priests and deacons hadn't blustered on about fire and brimstone so he was cautiously hopeful.
Slipping into the back row of pews and silencing his phone, Castiel tried very hard to smile politely at the hulking man with the knuckle tattoos sitting at the other end of his row before snatching up one of the programs out of the wooden trough that also held hymnals in front of him. It looked like the evening services was a bit shorter, with the liturgy being spoken as opposed to being sung like it was in the mornings; Cas supposed it was because a packed service tended to sound better than the twenty or so church members scattered around the large, echoing chapel.
When one of the deacons that Cas recognized stepped up the front podium and cleared his throat, the younger boy set aside his program and quickly patted down his pockets so that he could silence his cell phone. After the deacon greeted the assembled group he made a vague hand gesture for all of them to stand for the Penitential Rite and Castiel did, glancing nervously down the aisle towards where his pew-mate sat with his bulky arms crossed over his equally expansive chest looking like he had no intention of standing anytime soon. It was kind of noticeable since the the congregation was so small, but not everyone bought into the kneeling and standing and sitting and kneeling thing that Cas kinda sorta liked himself so he tried to pay attention to the familiar recitation of the Rite.
"Have mercy on us, Lord," the deacon intoned.
"For we have sinned against you," Castiel repeated along with the rest of the group, his hands finding the back of the pew in front of him and gripping onto it tight because yea, this is what he had needed. Something familiar, something to ground him.
"Show us your mercy, Oh Lord," the older man replied at the front of the room.
"And grant us your salvation," the younger boy murmured fervently.
The group stayed on their feet for the Kyrie and the Gloria in excelsis and even though Castiel usually found the most comfort singing the hymns he was grateful when the deacon motioned for them to sit (or in a few cases, including Cas' kneel) for the opening prayer; sinking to his knees so fast that they clunked painfully against the hardwood causing Cas to wince and glance over to find the large man at the end of his pew watching him with a blank expression.
He tried to shake off the crawling feeling that the other man was giving him and muttered his own prayers for Dean's safety ('Oh yea, Bobby too.') under his breath, adding in his plea for God to return the other boy to him as quickly as possible so that he wouldn't feel guilty for being selfish right at the end before he raised himself back into his seat on the pew. The deacon gave a short sermon about love which Cas guessed was pretty appropriate considering it had just been Valentine's Day, but man, there had to be other verses besides the whole 'love is patient, love is kind, blahblahblah' spiel that he could have used to get his point across.
All in all the whole service lasted about half as long as the morning one and when Castiel got to his feet after a final prayer to rub at his sore knees, he checked his phone to find that his brother had even bother to question why he wasn't home yet when he really should have been. Maybe Gabriel didn't think there was anything to be worried about since John was so obviously not in Lawrence right now, it didn't mean that it didn't feel bad that no one in his house seemed to care that he wasn't home yet.
He considered stayed for confessional since apparently he had time to just throw away, but then the saw the priest whom he had confessed with at Thanksgiving and decided that if he wanted lackluster spiritual advice he could just ask Ash or Krissy.
Cas was gathering his uniform jacket and light coat he had worn to school off of the floor where he had dumped them next to his backpack when he noticed the man who had been sitting at the end of his pew jump suddenly to his feet and go storming towards the confessional booths where a small line of penitents were forming. He watched at the man roughly grabbed a woman by her elbow and tugged her out of the line hard enough that her loose, messy bun of brown hair wobbled when she stumbled.
A couple of people gave the man scandalized looks as he started steering the woman towards the back of the church and its exit, passing by Castiel as he fumbled with his stuff so that he could catch the pair to see if the woman was okay. She wasn't protesting to being practically frog-marched out of the church, but Cas could imagine that he probably wasn't exactly okay with the whole situation.
"Hey," he called clutching his program in his hand as he quickly walked after the pair who had started to bicker quietly with each other as they got closer and closer towards the exit. "Hey! Miss, Sir, uh...you uh…"
"What kid?!" the man asked brusquely, letting go of the woman as Cas approached and turning to face the younger boy fully; showing off a jagged scar that ran from the corner of his left eye down to his cheek and a stippled looking shamrock tattooed on the side of his thick neck. "Whaddya want?"
"You um...you…" Castiel stalled, glancing at the woman for a second to see if she was okay before doing a double take as he realized that she was the woman that he had met in this same church on Thanksgiving; the one who had given him actually helpful advice. "You! It's you, do you remember me? We met once-"
"Yea, she meets a lot of people, kid," the large man interrupted just as the confused look that the woman had been wearing cleared and she started to now. "And she's got more people to me, if ya know what I'm sayin'."
"God, just fuck off already, Brick," the woman said with a huff, pushing ineffectively at her companion's bicep. "You haven't let me go to the bathroom by myself for a week, just give me two minutes."
The other man glared at the woman for a moment before rolling his eyes and grumbling something about 'psycho bitches' under his breath, holding up two fingers in the woman's face before heading out the church's exit with a bang of closing doors. Cas watched as the woman visibly relaxed once they were alone, her shoulders slumping tiredly even as she brought up a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose.
"I...uh," Castiel started, feeling awkward about whatever it was he had just witnessed. "I didn't mean to make your boyfriend mad or anything-"
"Not my boyfriend," the woman interrupted after a disgusted sounding scoff, dropping his hand back down to tug at the oversized t-shirt she was wearing as a dress with a pair of brightly colored leggings. "And I don't give a fuck if he's mad, assholes been making my life miserable."
"Do I-I mean...can I help or anything?" Cas asked, realizing that it was a bit ridiculous that he was offering to help someone when he hadn't even been able to help himself or Dean or anyone really.
"No, its fine. I've got it under control," the woman said with a sigh, flipping her hand over her shoulder dismissively before she got a mischievous glint in her eye and propped her hand on her hip. "And what about you, Blue Eyes? I mean, you don't call. You don't write."
Cas let out a laugh, startling himself with how genuine it felt. "I uh...I go to morning Mass usually. Today...this...I just kinda felt like I needed to do something for myself."
"And your grand idea was going to church?" the woman asked with a shrewdly arched eyebrow. "Guess you didn't work things out with your guy, huh?"
"No uh...we did," Castiel said guiltily, reaching up to rub at the spot where the knot on the back of his head had finally gone down. "It's just...it's been a rough week."
"Don't I know it," she replied earnestly, almost too much so. Castiel had the feeling that his week might look like a walk in the park compared to whatever the woman in front of him had been through, especially if she had been spending a lot of time with that Brick-guy. "Well, I hope it gets better, kid. I've got-"
"Cas," the younger man blurted suddenly, causing the other woman's face to take on a weird pained sort of expression before it softened into one that Meg or Jo would give him right before they explained something really obvious to him. "It's uh, my name. Castiel, but everyone calls me Cas."
"Cas, honey," the woman began again, giving him a sweet smile as she reached out a hand to squeeze his forearm. "It was really good to see you again. But as as my charming watchdog has just reminded me, I've got to get to work. I'm running late, actually. So maybe I'll see you around again, a church pot-luck or something?"
"Oh, yea," Castiel said despondently, wishing he could sit down and talk to the other woman; he got the strange feeling that she was an old-soul, wise in a way that he hoped maybe he could be someday for someone. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay and uh...thank you for your advice and stuff. It uh...it helped at the time."
"I'm glad," she replied sincerely, squeezing his arm again before she leaned in and gave him a quick hug. "And you take care of that guy of yours. 'Kay?"
Castiel nodded, his throat tight and his eyes prickling for some reason that he couldn't explain, but he managed to get out one last thing.
"Hey, uh...since we're sorta friends now," Cas called, catching the other woman just as she started to slip quietly out of the doors. "Can you tell me your name? Please?"
The older woman smiled that same sad smile that she had worn back on Thanksgiving, her eyes looking shiny in the light of the antique chandelier that hung in the church's foyer.
"Just call me Lexi, kid," she said, lifting her hand in a wave. "Everyone else does."
Author Note: HEYEEYEYEYEYEY! i'm alive.
I know its been forever and a day, but I've also got more troubling news kids. I've decided that I'm going to work on solely Nomad by Fate (hey I just read that!) and Deep in the Heart until they are complete. Meaning California Dreamin' and It's Kind of a Funny Story are going on hiatus. However, hopefully this will help me from stagnating into a deep pit of writer's block and despair (like I just did) so we shall see.
In the mean time I'm running a giveaway over on my tumblr {itsprounounceddeathsteel} ! You should check it out or come and yell at me for putting your faves on a break...either way.