Chapter : 09

Balthazar Cahlwell died at the age of fifteen from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Castiel Novak, fourteen at the time, was listed on the police report as the only witness of the suicide; he was with Balthazar when the teenager shot himself, and he stayed with him until his body was cremated three days later.

Castiel had been close enough when the shot was fired that he was temporarily deafened, giving him an excuse not to speak with the police for at least a day; by the time his hearing returned though, he had made a decision to keep the real events of that night between him and the parties involved. Because Castiel knew Balthazar Cahlwell didn't kill himself, but it was a secret he would have to take to his grave.

The sound of a gun had always haunted him – always thrown a bloody image up behind his eyelids, and put a knot in his throat. When the gun went off in the Winchester house, the experience was different in only one way; he screamed for Dean.

It had been a flurry of activity after that, Sam bursting out of the bedroom and ordering Castiel to get in the Impala right now and the sound of struggle coming from the other room. He had listened to orders, casting glances over his shoulder, until Sam pulled out onto the slippery road with tires screeching and brow furrowed.

Now, standing in the emergency room of the local hospital, he couldn't find the voice to even whisper. His whole body was trembling with cold and worry, and Sam was no better beside him. The youngest member of the Winchester family was pacing in an endless circle, his jaw ticking nervously as he combed his fingers through his hair.

Words such as 'suicide' and 'unstable' had been passed from nurse to nurse as Castiel strained to listen, his glasses slipping low on the bridge of his nose and his sweater crooked. He was physically exhausted and on the brink of a mental break down when a bulky man came around the corner and Sam froze.

"Dad," He rushed over to the large man and Castiel remained where he was against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around himself as he shivered. The oldest Winchester was a man with a serious face, and dark features; his style of dress and graceful way of movement was similar to Dean's, but his facial construct and dark hair was closer to that of Sam.

"Hey, kiddo," The older man sighed, ruffling Sam's hair as the young teenager got closer.

"Is he okay?" Sam worried, his eyebrows creased as he smoothed his hair back into place.

"Nurse is getting him ready to go- says he can come home tonight if we keep an eye on him, make sure his fever doesn't spike again." Father Winchester nodded, lowering himself into a nearby chair with a low groan.

"He's been asking for you- wanted to say sorry for scaring you," Father told son, and Sam laughed weakly.

"He didn't scare me," Sam said, glancing towards Castiel, his implications clear. His father didn't seem to notice – Castiel wasn't even sure that he had been made aware that someone beside his sons was in the house when the shot was made.

Neither of the Winchester men noticed Dean, where he was slowly limping his way down the hallway; Castiel zoned in on him, his eyes taking in the battered state of his boyfriend's body. There was a black boot on his left foot, a bandage on his forehead, and a few scrapes on his face; he walked stiffly, as if every step hurt, and winced as his eyes landed on Sam.

"Sam," He called weakly, and Castiel flinched at the raspy sound of his voice. Sam's head snapped to the side so quickly Castiel was afraid he'd get whiplash, and almost instantly he was rushing to throw his arms around Dean and bury his face in the older man's shirt- though Dean insisted Sam was growing an inch every week, the younger boy was still no taller than Dean's shoulder.

Any sign of pain was hidden in the crease of Dean's eyebrows as he held his younger sibling close, kissing the top of his head; tears were in his eyes as Castiel heard him whisper a soft "'M sorry, Sammy." Sam let out a sound much like a sob, his body shaking in Dean's arms. "So sorry, little brother,"

Castiel had no intention of interrupting the moment, in fact he intended to slip away and get rid of his relieved tears before Dean could see, but as soon he took a step forward both Dean and his father had their eyes on him. Surprise flashed across Dean's face and confusion across his fathers, but before Castiel could say a word Dean had gently released his baby brother and was reaching for his boyfriend.

Castiel went into the older man's embrace willingly, hiding his face in the collar of Dean's coat, his glasses squashed painfully against his face. He choked on a sob as Dean's strong arms came around him; one large palm rested flat against the small of his back, the other warm against the back of his neck. The familiar smell of Dean flooded his nostrils and Castiel grabbed fistfuls of the back of his coat, his grip white-knuckled as he cried into the larger man's shoulder.

"Shh," Dean buried his face in Castiel's hair, sounding older and more tired than Castiel had ever heard him. "'S okay, baby. Everything's okay now,"

"I-I heard the gun… Dean, I th-thought-," Castiel choked, unable to finish, and Dean simply pulled him closer, his fingers sifting comfortingly through the hairs on the back of Castiel's neck.

"Everything's okay, Cas," Dean whispered, closing the subject, and Castiel nodded shakily as Dean kissed his temple ever so gently and released him. Castiel stepped back to stand beside Sam, pulling his glasses off and wiping at his eyes as Sam tried to hide the fact that he too was in tears.

"Dean," The oldest Winchester greeted his son with a nod and a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Sir," Dean nodded, his eyes hard and cold. It was obvious he was in massive amounts of pain, but he was doing his damndest to hide it.

"Who's your friend?" Castiel stiffened, cleaning his glasses nervously with the tail of his sweater and sliding them back on in time to see Dean motioning towards him.

"Cas, this is my father, John Winchester. Dad, this is Castiel Novak. He's the one who keeps up with Sam's work when we're… On a trip," Something about the words 'on a trip' didn't sound right to Castiel's ears, but he ignored it as he extended a shaking hand.

"It's nice to meet you, sir." John looked at his hand with distaste and Castiel let it fall, swallowing thickly.

"Are you one of Christian Novak's boys?" John asked gruffly.

"Yes, sir," Castiel nodded.

"Last I heard of him, he only had four sons- Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, and Jonathon. When'd you come along?"

"Jonathon is my first name, sir." Castiel shifted uncomfortably on his feet, playing nervously with the hem of his sweater.

"Could've guessed," John snorted, burying his hands in his pockets.

"E-Excuse me?" Castiel stuttered, at the same time Dean issued a low warning of "Dad."

"I used to know your daddy. I saw you once or twice as a baby- you still look thin and sickly like you did back then," John stated bluntly.

Castiel's mouth opened, and then closed with a small snap; not only was he insulted by this man's rude words, but he was baffled by the idea that his boyfriend's father had been friends with his own father at one time. How was that possible? The Winchesters had just arrived in town a little over three months ago.

"Don't worry about coming off as an asshole, Dad," Sam rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sam," Dean scolded, sounding tired as he rubbed absentmindedly at his side. "Watch your mouth."

"Why? Cas has the flu, but that doesn't mean he has the right to tell him he looks like crap," Sam argued, jaw set stubbornly.

"Sam," Dean's expression was pleading.

"It's alright, Sam," Castiel assured the younger sibling, offering a weak smile. "I can fend for myself just fine. Besides, your father is right; I was sick for much of my infancy,"

"You were a homo too, last time I checked." John spoke up and Castiel stiffened, watching as Dean did the same where he stood behind his father.

"I am gay, if that is what you are applying." Castiel announced, surprised at himself; in most situation like this, he would have run away or cowered at such a degrading word. Instead, he was standing his ground.

"It is," John glared. "And I don't see how that's something to be proud of, boy."

"I don't see why it's shameful to love someone for who they are, rather than what they have in their jeans." Castiel replied calmly; though he did believe his mother when she said that homosexuality was a sin, and that he was born to go to Hell, his personal philosophy on homosexuality was exactly as he had said.

"Well," John stepped closer, eyeing Castiel for a long time. The younger boy held his breath, swallowing loud and hard when John suddenly broke into a cheerful smile. "Anyone who can respond that eloquently to stupid ignorance is fit to date my son,"

"Wh-What?" Castiel stuttered, stunned as John chuckled.

"Son, I've got two bi-sexual children. There is no reason for me to be upset about that- just means I raised 'em to love people a little too much," John shrugged, clapping Castiel warmly on the shoulder as he headed towards the exit. "Now, I'm gonna head home. You boys think you can handle getting Dean home in one piece?"

"Yes sir," Sam muttered, and Castiel nodded slowly. John smiled, giving Dean a stern order to take it easy, and disappeared around the corner.

"Sam… is bi-sexual?" Castiel turned to the younger Winchester with a surprised expression and the younger boy blushed.

"I've only had one boyfriend," He mumbled, playing with his hands. Castiel glanced at Dean, staring blankly at the older man's splitting grin as he hobbled forward and kissed Castiel's pale cheek.

"Does he do that to all of your boyfriends and girlfriends?" Castiel whispered weakly, searching Dean's face expectantly.

"No, I was as surprised as you were- you're the first boyfriend of mine that he's met. He's lucky he stopped when he did, though." Dean sighed, leaning heavily on Castiel for support as the younger boy slid an arm around his waist.

"Why's that?" Castiel questioned, rubbing gentle circles on Dean's hip as Sam motioned them to follow him down the corridor.

"I was about to kill him for saying those things to you," Dean grumbled moving slowly alongside Castiel. The younger boy kept pace with his injured companion, trying his best to support some of Dean's weight as they slowly moved down the hall. Castiel didn't respond to Dean's words, simply watched their feet as the two walked.

"Cas, c'mon. That was supposed to make you smile, at least." Dean sighed as they reached the elevator and Castiel stepped away from Dean to hit the button and summon an elevator going down.

"I'm not in a humorous mood, Dean." Castiel sighed, leaning against the wall and pushing his glasses up to rest on top of his head, rubbing at his eyes. He was ill, exhausted, confused by the news that John Winchester knew his father, and sick to his stomach with the knowledge that his boyfriend had tried to kill himself a few hours previously.

"Hey," Strong hands, callused from long days of working, encircled his wrists and pulled them gently away from his eyes. "Cas, everything's fine, okay? Why are you still so stressed out?"

"You just tried to kill yourself, Dean! That is not a problem that simply goes away after a trip to the hospital," Castiel pulled his wrists out of the older boys grip, swallowing hard as the ding of the elevator sounded and the doors slid open. He stepped into the small space, holding the door and lowering his eyes to the floor as Dean limped inside.

"Cas, I had a fever of one hundred and four and a gun under my pillow. I was delusional with pain, and I was seeing things… It wasn't myself I was trying to kill." He muttered, his voice too loud in the small space.

"Then who were you trying to kill, Dean?" Castiel sighed, massaging his temples.

"I told you- not myself," Dean answered, wincing as he rubbed at his side. Sam had mentioned broken ribs- was that what was bothering him?

"Dean, who?"

"It doesn't matter." Dean insisted.

"It does to me!" Castiel surprised himself with his near shout, and Dean blinked in obvious shock himself. "Dean, do you know how scared I was when I heard that gun go off? How many different things went through my mind when Sam said that you were the one who fired the gun, and the nurses kept whispering that it was an attempted suicide? You cannot even come close to comprehending how terrified I was- how terrified I still am,"

Dean stared at him, hazel eyes so bright and glassy that Castiel could see his reflection in them. His skin was a pale yellow, his eyes rimmed red and his nose puffy with sickness, his eyes blue and fever lit. His hair was in disarray, his glasses resting atop his head in a crooked manner; he looked like a mad man.

"I didn't try to kill myself." Dean stated again, and just as Castiel opened his mouth with the intention of ripping Dean a new one, Dean continued. "I tried to kill Sam."

"Dean, I didn't… But Sam said…" Castiel couldn't find the words to explain the shame of his explosion, or the to apologize for the pain in Dean's eyes. Dean seemed to grasp them easily, though.

"Sam was trying to protect me. If the scrubs knew I had taken a shot at him, I'd be playing patty-cake against a padded wall right now." Dean explained as the elevator doors opened up on the ground floor and Castiel allowed Dean to limp into the hallway before following closely behind. "But I need someone with me tonight- someone to make sure I don't try to hurt him again, because God knows Dad will be too drunk to care."

"Dean, I have no doubt my mother already knows that I'm missing." Castiel sighed, pulling Dean to a stop before he could leave the building. "And I'm sick- I have no intentions of giving you the flu on top of everything. Staying the night… Simply isn't an option,"

Dean's face fell, disappointment clear in the stiff muscles of his shoulders and the steady ticking of his jaw. Castiel reached out and straightened the collar of the older boy's shirt, brushing his fingers gently over the exposed skin of his neck and watching at a tendon in Dean's neck strained under the skin.

"I'm afraid I'll hurt him, Cas," Castiel looked up, surprised by the tremor in Dean's voice. The older boy, always so stone-like even in his gentler moments, was near to tears. "I'm afraid I'm going to relax for just one second, and that fever's going to take over… A-And I'm going to do something I can never forgive myself for,"

"Dean," Castiel wiped the one tear that had managed to escape off Dean's cheeks, running his thumb gently over the scratched and bruised skin of his boyfriend's skin. "Why would you have any reason to hurt Sam?"

"He… I… God," Dean dropped his head into his hands, rubbing harshly at his eyes, and Castiel waited patiently for him to get the words out. "Our mom died in his nursery, when he was just a baby- she was killed there, and… Sometimes, when I look at him… All I can think of is the dem- the person who killed her," He struggled to get out the word person, his teeth grinding uneasily.

"That doesn't give you a reason to hurt Sam." Castiel muttered, quietly drawing a pattern on Dean's elbow as the older boy hid behind his hands.

"It gives me every reason, Cas," Dean laughed without humor, pushing the heels of his hands harshly into his eyes. "Do you know what I saw when I shot at him? I saw… I saw that bastard, standing over me, and… It was Sammy's voice, but it just wasn't him…"

Castiel had never heard about Dean's mother, other than the news that she had died when he was four. The knowledge that she was killed – in Sam's nursery, of all places – was new and startling. Dean's obvious attachment to the deceased woman, and the pent up anger towards her killer was also frightening- but it was something Castiel could understand.

"Dean," Castiel gently coaxed the older boy to come to meet his eyes. "You didn't hurt Sam, and that's all that matters. And if you feel like my presence will prevent that from happening in the future… Then I suppose I'll have to stay the night at your house,"

"I don't want your mom to get upset with you," Dean argued half-heartedly, but the relief in his eyes was that of a drowning man at sea who had just been offered an inflatable raft.

"She's not my concern- you are," Castiel offered a reassuring smile, kissing Dean's cheek just as Sam came striding through the door, fat flakes of snow caught in his hair.

"The car's warm. You two coming?" He asked cheerfully.

"Sure are, Sammy boy. Let's make a pit stop for some comfort food on the way home," Every emotion previously exposed melted away, pooling deep in Dean's eyes; all that remained on his face was the usual overabundance of confidence and a hint of affection as he slung an arm around his younger brother's shoulders and hobbled towards the exit.

Castiel followed close behind the two, watching as Dean spoke affectionately with his younger brother and Sam replied with an equal amount of admiration. The two were as thick as thieves and Castiel could understand Dean's panic at the idea that he might hurt Sam; Sam was his best friend, practically his son.

"C'mon, Cas," Dean called over his shoulder, extending an open hand towards him. Castiel hurried to catch up, ignoring his exhaustion and his many questions, and took Dean's offered hand; for now, this was enough to get him through the rest of the night.

xXxXx

You all are amazing! Thank you for all the feedback - just because you're such sweeties, I posted this for you. Let you know what happened with the shooting, and a little bit of a teaser on the Balthazar event... ; )

Also, look on my bio for the Supernatural video of the week! I think I posted a Destiel one, too!

-CCW