Chapter: 06
Jonathon Castiel Novak was never meant to exist, and sometimes he wished he didn't.
After the birth of their eldest, Lucifer, in the middle of a record-hot August, Christian and Naomi Novak decided they only wanted three more children, and they carefully planned for the arrival of these children. Michael was born thirteen months later in mid September, and then twin siblings Gabriel and Anna were the last ones to arrive after another thirteen month gap, in late October.
The parents had what they wanted and, from what Castiel could tell in the faded photographs his mother had stowed away, they were happy. The family of six had lived in a large house near the local church, where they loyally attended mass every Sunday and afterwards invited friends over to the house for a meal. Things remained this way for awhile until, a little over a year after the twin's birth, the Novak fairytale began to collapse.
Naomi's mother fell ill, and the desperate daughter prayed for a miracle. Soon after her mother's diagnosis, she discovered she was pregnant and thought that the baby would be the miracle she had asked for. She quickly found out that Jonathon Castiel Novak was the farthest thing from a miracle though, when her mother died the same day in April that her youngest son was born.
Castiel's mother said he had been nothing but trouble since she brought him home from the hospital; he constantly had to change schools because of bullies in his early years, his medical bills had always been large due to his terrible eye sight and his weak immune system, and he had been a terribly clingy child. When Naomi discovered he was gay two years ago, it had been her breaking point; Castiel was unwanted by his mother, and he accepted that.
Gripping the railing under his hands with white knuckles and staring out across the snowy front yard, Castiel fought the urge to cry as he thought of his mother's particularly vicious nature this evening. She had explained every aspect of the Novak family to Anna's boyfriend, not bothering to censor herself; she'd called Castiel by every unholy term her mind could come up with, and blamed him for everything from her mother's death to the terrible weather right now.
Castiel had come to terms with the fact that his mother didn't want him, but he could never do the same for the abuse. Whether it be physical or emotional, it was always different; there was no pattern, no thought to what people did to him. The constant changing nature of the bullying was what made it so hard to get used to; he would be so close to blocking it all out, when someone would shout something so nasty and terrible that it would crawl under Castiel's skin and sit there for weeks, eating him from the inside out.
Tonight it had been the word faggot. How do you feel about faggots, his mother had asked Eric. Castiel had been so startled that the bowl of pees in his hand slipped and spilled. His mother had been fuming, her eyes blazing dangerously as she grabbed Castiel by the arm and dragged him up the stairs. He did his best to apologize for the mistake, wanting nothing more than to return to the table and hide between Gabriel and Anna. She shoved him inside his bedroom and followed him inside.
She had spent close to an hour beating him down verbally, swatting and kicking at him until he was pressed against the bed and fighting the urge to cry. She was always worse once she'd had a glass of wine, but after the three glasses she had before dinner this evening she had developed a loose tongue and even looser hands.
Now he was standing on his balcony an hour later, his left eye swelling closed and a series of scratches and bruises forming on his arms and legs. He was contemplating how much damage the fall would do were he to tumble over the edge. Suicide was something he had contemplated many times, but he hadn't ever built the courage to do it. Every time he made to step in front of a moving car, or leaned forward to tumble off a high-rise, he would picture Balthazar's bloody body or - more recently - Dean's smile.
Dean. The name brought Castiel slowly to his senses and he stepped back into his bedroom, leaving the balcony doors open and allowing the icy air to drift inside. Grabbing his phone from its place on the floor beside him, he blindly dialed his boyfriend's number and pressed the phone to his ear.
The phone rang several times before going to voice mail, and Castiel threw the phone across the room with an angry shout as the voice told him to leave a message. The small device broke with a snap, and Castiel scrambled on his hands and knees to where it was laying in two pieces. A sob snuck its way past his defenses as he tried to fit the pieces back together, giving up after awhile and wiping at his wet eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.
His stomach ached emptily and his eyes burned as more tears threatened to spill. He climbed warily to his feet, wanting nothing more than to hear Dean's voice as he clambered into bed without bothering to close the balcony doors; if he froze to death in his sleep, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering his swollen eye and scratched face.
Castiel tucked his nose under the hem of the scarf his brother had gifted him and closed his eyes, allowing the slowing beat of his heart and the soft breeze sooth as the urge to cry slowly receded and left him in a numb state of being. He accepted this numbness and sighed contently, finally able to fall into some form of sleep.
He wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping when a soft bang brought him back to reality. His fingers were numb with cold, his cheeks stinging as he sat up and glanced around the room. He noticed a figure standing near the now closed balcony door, and he wondered if that was the bang that had woken him.
"Gabriel?" He asked quietly, throwing away the blankets and moving towards the shadowed figure. How had his brother gotten into his room, he wondered, when his mother had locked the door?
"Who the hell is Gabriel?" Dean's gruff voice replied and Castiel released a surprised squeak as he was grabbed around the waist and pulled against a broad chest. Dean's lips were crashing against his before he could answer the question though, demanding the younger boy kiss back as he nipped at his lower lip. Castiel gasped against his boyfriend's mouth, surprised by the violent and desperate edge to the older man's actions, and Dean took the opportunity to slide his tongue in to meet with Castiel's.
"What are you doing here?" Castiel gasped once he was finally allowed to pull away from the kiss, Dean's fingers skimming rapidly over the lines of his body. His fingers combed through Castiel's hair, down his spine and over his ass all the way down to his heels.
"Are you hurt?" Dean demanded in a whisper, squinting in the darkened room as if it would improve his vision.
"What, Dean? I'm fine, what's gotten into you?" Castiel whispered as Dean pulled him in for yet another kiss, this time less rushed; the boys lips moved together in lazy motions, Castiel's hands settling on Dean's shoulders as the older boy brushed his fingers gently over the small of the younger's back.
"You… You left a message on my phone," Dean sighed once their lips finally separated. "You just screamed, and then the line went dead… Shit, Cas… Do you know how scared I was when I couldn't get a hold of you?"
"I broke my phone." Castiel frowned, glancing at the small device where it was lying on the floor. He quickly looked back to Dean, whose eyes seemed alarmingly green in the darkness.
"Why'd you scream?" Dean probed, moving his hands soothingly up and down Castiel's back. The material of his sweater scratched against his skin with each movement of Dean's hands, and the younger boy shivered with the combined cold air of the room and the itchy drag of fabric against skin.
"You didn't answer, and… I wasn't in a very stable mood." He admitted quietly, pressing his forehead to Dean's shoulder and inhaling a soothing breath. The scent of Dean flooded his nostrils; generic soap, a hint of leather, and a nameless smell that Castiel simply labeled as Dean.
"What happened, Cas?" Dean asked, his gentle voice quite the contrary to the rough calluses of his hands as they brushed hair away from Castiel's forehead and took up a rhythm in stroking the younger boys hair.
"It was nothing," Castiel assured him, leaning into the comfort of Dean's larger body.
Though he knew the older boy was dying to know what had happened, Castiel was more than grateful when Dean didn't persist in his attempt to better understand the situation. Instead, a comfortable silence fell between them and Dean swayed ever so slightly with the younger boy in his arms. They remained this way for awhile, Castiel dozing off until a sound outside his bedroom door startled him back to reality.
"Oh my- you can't be here!" He hissed, shoving the older boy. Dean stumbled back, quickly covering his hurt expression with a cocked eyebrow.
"Dean, hide!" Castiel whispered urgently, motioning to the closet. Dean sighed, his expression promising later questions before he quickly dove into the younger boy's closet and disappeared amongst the shadows just as the bedroom door swung open.
"Castiel?" Gabriel's voice drifted into the room and the youngest Novak boy nearly fainted with relief, dropping heavily on to the foot of his bed as Gabriel kicked the door shut behind himself.
"Gabriel… I thought you were Mother," Castiel sighed, resting a hand over his rapidly beating hard in hopes of calming it.
"Do I look like I have breasts?" Gabriel scoffed, flipping the light switch. Castiel blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden illumination in the room, squinting at his brother. Gabriel stood confidently by his younger brother's desk, clad in heavy winter gear. Though his attire was quite confusing, Castiel decided not to question it; this was Gabriel after all, the child who had glued his hands to the side of the house amidst a sugar-high at the age of fourteen.
"You did when you were a child," He smiled, teasing.
"You make it sound as if that was a disadvantage," Gabriel smirked. "It made touching myself quite interesting,"
"Gabriel!" Castiel spluttered, his cheeks heating; he could have sworn he heard Dean snickering from his hiding place.
"Oh, c'mon, Castiel," Gabriel chuckled, plopping down in Cas' desk chair and burying his hands in the pockets of his coat. "Don't act like you've never had a date with your right hand."
"I haven't," Castiel's blush darkened and he was acutely aware of his boyfriend hiding in the closest less than ten feet away as he wrung his hands nervously.
"You're sixteen- that's the biggest lie I've ever heard," Gabriel laughed, picking up one of the multiple pens lying on Castiel's desk and using it to doodle on the back of his hand. It was a habit their mother used to scold him for.
"I didn't say I'd never… Y'know, I just haven't…" Castiel fluttered his hands uselessly, unwilling to say the words.
"Oh, that poor boyfriend of yours," Gabriel sighed, shaking his head and blowing on the ink on his hand to keep it from smearing. Castiel's eyes flickered to the closet, where he could barely see the outline of Dean's boots in the shadows.
"I'm not that bad," Castiel's eyes moved back to his brother as he shrugged. "What do you want, anyways? It's…" Castiel glanced at his bedside clock. "Almost three in the morning,"
"I was going out for a late night pie run," Gabriel shrugged, standing. "You didn't get to eat dinner, so I figured I'd offer a ride along."
Castiel fidgeted nervously, warring between his empty stomach and his desire to spend time with Dean. Before he could make a decision though, Dean made it for him.
"He'll go," Dean announced, stepping out of his hiding place. Gabriel blinked, startled, and stared at Dean in obvious confusion. Castiel glared at his boyfriend and Dean smirked in retaliation, moving towards Gabriel with an extended hand. "Dean Winchester, the uh, poor boyfriend," He introduced.
"Oh," Gabriel grinned, shaking Dean's hand enthusiastically before turning to Castiel. "Sneaking boys in through the window? I always wondered why you're bedroom door was locked at night!"
"I did not sneak him in!" Castiel wrapped his arms around himself, blushing furiously, and shot a dangerous look at Dean as the older boy sat down on the bed beside him. Dean ignored the glare, one of his arms slipping around Castiel's body and pulling the younger boy tightly against his side.
"You're right- you made the mistake of leaving the balcony door open, though." Dean smirked, nuzzling Castiel's neck and brushing a butterfly kiss over the skin there. The younger boy squirmed, trying to break out of the embrace, but Dean's hold was steady.
"Oh, this is all so Romeo and Julian," Gabriel grinned. Though he hid it behind his teasing words and calm attitude, he was ecstatic to see his younger brother wrapped in the arms of another man; after the incident with Balthazar, Gabriel was almost sure Castiel would never recover.
"Juliet," Castiel corrected, finally slapping Dean's arms away and scrambling to lean against the headboard and cross his arms over his chest in a motion that clearly read 'get off of me'. Dean frowned dejectedly, laying his head on Castiel's shins after a moment and watching Gabriel with calm eyes. The older Novak was impressed with the rebellious boy; not many would be so cool in the presence of their lover's siblings.
"No, Julian," Gabriel tore his gaze away from the boy absently tracing his brothers ankles, looking to Castiel. "You were both men, last I checked. Therefore, you are Romeo and Julian."
"Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy," Castiel pointed out, petting his hands through Dean's hair. The older boy arched his back like a contented cat, pressing the line of his spine against Castiel's leg and resting his feet against the headboard beside Castiel's hip.
"Perhaps Romeo and Julian will be different," Gabriel suggested, shrugging.
"It will be." Castiel said with such conviction that Gabriel had to chuckle, shaking his head fondly at his younger brother. "Won't it, Dean?"
Dean looked up at Castiel with dark green eyes, the usual golden flecks strangely absent. His smile was gentle, but it didn't touch his eyes as Castiel expected it would. "Of course, Cas," Dean murmured, kissing Castiel's ankle gently before closing his eyes and turning his face away from his boyfriend.
Dean didn't want Castiel to see the doubt in the lines of his face, but Castiel could feel it in the stiff line of his spine.
[Sorry for the sort of crappy chapter, guys! Thank you to all of you who have stuck with this story, though!]