A/N: This fic will have some jumps in time, sometimes as much as a few months. I'm trying to cover a 10 year period by the end of this fic and need some ebb and flow in the pacing. I hope they're all pretty self explanatory. If not please let me know.

Chapter 1

"What in the name of everything was that?" Castiel came charging out of the room that one day would hopefully be his study, ran down the stairs, two steps at a time, and came to a stop in the hall, almost tripping over the football that had left a shattered living room window in its wake. His wife was already there, staring in disbelief at the glass mess on the floor.

Castiel walked up to the broken window and looked out, seeing a boy of no older than eight or nine standing shell-shocked, gawking, while an older boy was tugging at his arm frantically, urging him to just run.

Before he could think, Castiel, enraged that his new home was already being vandalised – he just knew this neighbourhood was trouble, research and realtor be damned - stormed out the front door and towards the boys.

"Hey!" he shouted, and must have sounded mightily intimidating if the way the younger boy flinched was anything to go by.

"Sammy, come on," the older boy yelled, still trying to get the smaller kid to move.

"Was this you?" Castiel demanded, coming to a stop and staring down the younger kid, Sammy, his brain provided for him.

"I, I'm sorry, Mr. We were just playing catch and … I didn't mean to. It was an accident and…" The boy stammered, big hazel, scared eyes looking up at Castiel from behind a mop of wild hair, a look that immediately took all the wind out of Castiel's sail. Not that he really knew what to say next, now that his immediate rage was diffused. He really had no experience dealing with these kinds of situations, read: kids. They were a species to themselves as far as Castiel was concerned. Guess, like so many other things in his life recently, that was about to change.

"No," the older boy protested, catching Castiel's attention and stepping in front of the smaller kid protectively.

"Sir, it was not him. It was me, and it was not on purpose. I was just trying to teach him to catch a good kick. Please, you must believe me," he pleaded, holding Castiel's gaze while keeping the smaller kid back behind him with one hand.

Castiel took in a deep breath. He couldn't help but admire the way the older boy was trying to protect his friend, brother? He could sympathize, being one of five children; sure they did occasionally get into trouble in their days, despite probably having had some of the strictest parents in the whole of Oklahoma. Although he doubted that any of his brothers would have stood up for him like that, Anna possibly, on a good day.

"Ok, ok. I … Just calm down." Castiel ran his hands through his hair, coming to rest on his neck and giving it a rub. "I know accidents happen. It's just a window, nothing that can't be fixed. Still, I will need to talk to your parents and ask them to replace it." There, 'understanding' but 'authoritative', Castiel was rather pleased with himself.

At the mention of their parents both boys grew rigid. Well, of course they would be uncomfortable; probably they would get grounded for a few days for this. God, if it had been him, their dad would have given him a talking to he wouldn't have forgotten in a hurry. Castiel's memory drifted back to the only time he actually got in trouble with his dad, and indeed, it was like he could still feel the sting on his backside. After all, that was how kids learned from their mistakes, Castiel mused, although he knew that these days (and god, that thought made him feel old) kids generally weren't supposed to be punished in that way anymore.

"No. Mr. Please, do not tell our dad." The older boy now all but begged, dragging Castiel out of his little trip down memory lane, his voice wavering and his posture suddenly not so confident anymore. His eyes darted between the houses, coming to rest on the house opposite, the one with the black car, as though he was expecting something or someone to come at him. "I, I will pay for it. I …just please, don't tell."

Castiel just eyed the boy, perplexed at the sudden outburst, raising an eyebrow questioningly. How was a kid, he would guess of about twelve or thirteen, going to pay for a replacement window? Unless he was one of those diligent kids, that saved all their pocket money. Then again, the clothes the boys wore didn't exactly scream money, well, this whole neighbourhood didn't really. Probably quite a few of its inhabitants were on welfare of some kind or other. And Castiel was really trying not to sound like a snob, even to himself, with limited success if he was being honest.

"It's just …" Dean picked up on the man's calculating look, and quickly calmed himself. He could not afford to raise too many suspicions. He had been holding his family together for so long, ever since his mom had died in a stupid car crash and his dad had grown fonder of the JD than his children, having told a good few lies in the process. He knew he had gotten rather good at it when he put his mind to it. Trying to put on his best Sunday school smile, he continued. "Just, our dad is really stressed at the moment, he had a bit of a hard time, being in between jobs, he is looking though, but we really haven't got the money to spare right now. But … I'm really good with DIY and I could work for you to pay off the window. I could tend to your garden, help you with the move, just please; he doesn't need the extra stress right now." And he flashed the man in front of him another confident smile, the one that got him out of trouble before.

Castiel didn't quite know what to say to that. The boy barely even took a breath while giving his speech and the younger boy was peeking at him sheepishly from behind the older kid. There was just something about the boy's determination he couldn't help but respect, though still he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being played. God, he had never been good with kids, what on earth was he supposed to do?

Luckily, he didn't need to make a decision as his wife chose that moment to appear next to him, smiling warmly at the boys.

"So, do we have you to thank for the smashed window?" She asked but her voice was warm and welcoming. Both boys nodded their heads in silent agreement.

"What are your names?" She asked them.

Dean glanced suspiciously at her, she seemed a little too friendly, but knew better than not to answer. "Dean, my name is Dean, and this is my brother Sammy."

"Hello Dean and Sammy. Do you live around here?"

"Yes, we live just there, Ma'am." Dean said, pointing to a shabby looking house across the road, the pristine black car in stark contrast to the rest of the house.

Amelia chuckled. "First, please call me Amelia. Ma'am makes me feel really old." Dean and Sammy both smiled at that. "And this is my husband Castiel."

Both boys eyes shot up at the peculiar name, something Castiel has gotten quite used to over the years. It was what you got for growing up in an extremely old fashioned, religious family, burdening all their children with biblical names, and not of the popular variety.

"Go on, ask," he said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Does it have a meaning?" It was Sammy who asked, finally having stepped out of his older brother's shadow, with child like curiosity, that Castiel couldn't help but find endearing, reminding him of his younger self.

"Yes, it means Angel of Thursday, and yes, my family is very religious," he added, anticipating Sam's next question. Sam nodded, curiosity apparently satisfied and the boys started shuffling on their feet nervously, waiting for the inevitable.

Dean's jaw clenched tight, if Castiel and Amelia would go to their dad, all this, all that was left of his family, could come crashing down. His dad was not in a good place right now, Dean knew it was only a phase and he would come out of it soon enough, just like he had been able to before. But just right now, he didn't need anyone snooping around in his family's business. Why oh why did they smash that stupid window?

"The window," Amelia started after a moment of tense silence, like she could read Dean's mind.

"Oh yes," Castiel remembered why they were all here after all. He turned to his wife. "Now, Dean has informed me that his father is currently looking for a job and hence cannot afford to pay for the window at this time. But Dean has offered to help around the house in repayment, assuring me he is very versed in DIY." Castiel told his wife, giving her a 'they don't want their dad to know, because probably he is not treating them very nicely' look. It was just the vibes he had gotten from both boys when they had been slightly too adamantly protesting and that had roused Castiel's suspicions, but of course, he could be totally wrong. One thing he was generally not, and that was being good at reading between the lines. But he did not want to cause the boys, who on second glance seemed rather nice and polite, any undue trouble, and in the end, it was only a window.

"And I'm good at gardening as well, and no offence, but your lawn has seen better days," Dean added more confidently, feeling like he almost had them where he wanted them.

"Oh, I'm sure we can arrange something," Amelia smiled, nodding her head in understanding. "Why don't we start by serving you guys some lemonade and then maybe you could start to clear out the backyard for us, while Castiel unpacks, and I will make a few calls, seeing how fast this window can be replaced."

Dean and Sam both let out a big sigh of relief. "Yes Ma'am," Dean confirmed and at Amelia's raised eyebrows corrected himself immediately. "Yes, Amelia."

"Ok, that's settled." She laughed. "But maybe it would be best to let your parents know where you're going first."

Amelia and Castiel were startled when both boys started talking simultaneously, Sammy started with a "Don't matter, our dad…," while Dean said something along the lines of "Dad's out," before nudging Sammy with his foot to shut up.

"I mean, dad has gone to the shops, weekly shopping you know, and me and Sammy don't generally like to tag along. He should be back in a couple of hours."

Dean was not sure whether he had pulled it off but to his relief the adults didn't question him further, instead motioning for them to follow them to their house. And maybe following some people he didn't know into their house was not a smart idea but thanks to that smashed window, he didn't feel like he had many options. Worst case, he knew how to throw a punch, should they turn out to be psychopaths.

#

"The door," Castiel yelled from upstairs, where he was currently busy painting the walls, paint splatters all over his hand and face.

"I got it," Amelia confirmed, already halfway down the stairs.

She opened the door to find Dean and Sam standing on the porch and couldn't keep the surprise off her face. To be honest, neither she nor Castiel had expected to see the boys again after last Saturday, when they had, true to Dean's word, spent all morning clearing the backyard of overgrown weeds and general debris, before excusing themselves as their dad would be expecting them back home. They hadn't as much as set eyes on them all week, and assumed they had probably lied about where they lived.

"Dean, Sammy, what are you doing here?" She smiled at them.

Dean looked at her like she was a bit slow on the uptake which, to be fair, she kind of was.

"It's Saturday," he simply stated.

"Oh, right. You're here to work."

"Yes, we are. I said I would work off the debt." Sammy nodded eagerly in agreement. Dean's dad might not be the same person he had been before their mom's death, but he had always instilled in his boys to be true to their word, and Dean intended on not owing Castiel and Amelia anything.

"Ok, come in. Castiel look who's here!" she yelled up the stairs, and a moment later Castiel appeared, looking just as surprised as she had a moment ago.

"You're painting," Dean took in Castiel's speckled face.

"Well, I'm trying to," Castiel responded, sounding like he'd rather be doing anything else.

"I can help with that. I mean, my dad taught me how to, when we redecorated the house a while back. Picked up some tricks," Dean said (conveniently omitting that the last time their dad had really shown him anything had been almost three years ago. The day of the accident had been the last time Dean had seen his dad sober for more than a day or two).

"Well, why don't you help Cassie then and I'll see if I can find something for Sammy to do. Come on Sammy." Amelia placed a hand on his shoulder motioning for him to join her in the living room. Dean tried not to laugh at the pet name, but Cassie, really? What was wrong with something like Cas? Cas would suit the man a lot better, Dean decided.

Dean waited patiently for instructions but none were forthcoming. They stayed unmoving in the hallway for some reason. "Well… lead the way," he said when he couldn't take this awkwardness any more. This Castiel dude was weird, not psychopath 'I'm going to kill you in the middle of the night' weird, but not exactly normal either. The term 'nutty professor' came to mind.

"Oh, right. Follow me." Castiel walked up the stairs, gesturing for Dean to follow him. Dean couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at Castiel's confused expression.

#

Just like they had the week before, the boys turned up again the following Saturday. Castiel had moved on from the study to painting the living room, while Amelia was working on the garden. It still was not his favourite thing to do, but he cared to think that he was getting better at it.

Castiel stared at the kids with curiosity, in between trying to paint the wall and not spill any of the paint. He was not sure whether he needed to make conversation while they were doing this or whether it would be acceptable to just quietly work side by side. Castiel really, really wasn't very experienced when it came to kids. He just didn't know how to relate to them. Generally, people only became interesting to him once they could be engaged in a meaningful conversation. Even as a child he had preferred the company of adults to people his own age. Maybe he was just weird like that or maybe he just needed to escape his siblings. Kids just brought chaos into his otherwise well organised world, and while Castiel knew and accepted that Amelia one day wanted kids, it had seemed so far in the future that he hadn't needed to think about it. He was sure he could rise to the challenge when he needed to, but he didn't think the time would come quite so soon.

And yet, somehow he had ended up in the company of two just such specimens, throwing his beloved order in disarray. Sammy had joined them about an hour ago, with the excuse of having gotten bored in the garden. Although Castiel suspected he missed his brother. The way he so clearly adored and worshipped Dean was rather sweet, something Castiel had never experienced with any of his siblings. He had always been grateful for the times he didn't have to be in their presence.

But here the boys were and what supposedly had only been meant as a lesson to 'scare some sense' into them was somehow turning into something more. If he was more adept socially, he probably would have seen this coming a mile off. His wife loved kids and of course her mother hen instinct took over as soon as she had set eyes on those boys, broken window or not, and while fully aware that really, they could not let the kids work for the replacement window for real, she had thought it a good exercise in teaching them about consequences of their actions and hold them to their word. All the while spending a good time spoiling them with biscuits and lemonade.

Maybe it was because he was the youngest in his family, the baby, as they all still so often reminded him, that he had no ingrained skill in dealing with boisterous little menaces. Of course, by now his older siblings had produced plenty of offspring for the Novak clan but, well, let's just say Castiel had always been more than happy to hand the smelly, loud bundles of 'joy' back to their respective parents. And yet here he was stuck with two boys, one cocky nearly thirteen year old, who apparently knew more about decorating than he did, and an overexcited eight year old, right now fraying his nerves, begging his brother rather adamantly to let him have a go at painting the wall.

Dean must have clearly developed some kind of immunity towards his kid brother's whining, ruffling his hair and telling him to find something else to do, while managing to stay focused on the job at hand but Castiel was not so lucky. That was why after about 15 minutes of 'please' and 'I can do it', and 'how will I ever learn if you don't let me?', and those doe eyes, Castiel caved. He told himself it was only to preserve the last shreds of his sanity but the way Sammy just wanted to learn, to know whether he could do this, just warmed his heart in a way he had not prior thought possible.

"Come over here," he said and placed Sammy on the little stool next to him, handing him a brush and letting him go wild at the wall and the smile the boy sprouted had been worth it.

Castiel had the feeling that Dean had only refused his brother because he assumed that he wouldn't want him anywhere near the walls, because, as soon as Castiel gave his ok, Dean called his brother over and showed him exactly how to dip and clear off the excess paint and the best way to stroke to get the smoothest coverage. And Castiel saw Dean's face light up in a way he had not done so far, as he watched Sammy for a few minutes, laughing at the way his tongue flicked out as he concentrated very hard on getting this right. And most of all, it was quiet apart from the odd chuckle and instructions, as they continued their work. If Castiel had known that it would be that easy to shut up a whiney nine year old, he would have let Sammy paint the whole darn room.

#

It had been about a month after the 'window' incident, that Castiel had approached Winchester Senior one afternoon to introduce himself. It had not gone too well. Mr Winchester seemed the polar opposite of his children, borderline rude and not really interested in making conversation. He and Amelia had worked out that there was no mother around, but as to what exactly happened they were still in the dark as neither of the boys was very forthcoming with information. Castiel couldn't help but notice the stench of cigarettes and a faint smell of alcohol on the man's breath. He, in not so uncertain terms, had told Castiel to mind his own business before disappearing into the house. Castiel had tried to bring this up with Dean on one of their Saturdays but the boy assured him that he had just met their dad on a bad day, having had attended a friend's birthday party the night before, and Castiel had let it rest in line with good old Novak tradition of not putting your nose in other people's business.

#

"Spaghetti hoops or alphabet soup?" Dean held two tins up in front of his chest.

"Alphabet soup," Sammy said enthusiastically, and Dean groaned. "You just want me to spell out weird stuff with you again. Seriously, where do you even know half these words from?"

"I read! And Mrs Baxter says that my vocabulary is way above average for my age," Sammy stated proudly. Dean of course knew that Sammy was a bright cookie, but that didn't mean he couldn't wind him up over it.

"Ok, alphabet soup it is, just gimme a minute." Dean said pulling out a pot and emptying the contents of the tin into it before putting it on the stove.

Sammy settled at the kitchen table, paper and pens in hand and started drawing.

"Where's dad? Won't he need dinner?" Sammy looked up from the table after a moment.

"He's out. Said something about a job opportunity," Dean replied, and was glad that Sammy just hummed and didn't ask any more questions. He hated lying to his brother but Sammy was only just nine and didn't need to deal with the shit that was reality. Anyway, where was the point in telling him that dad most likely was out getting drunk. It wouldn't change the facts and only would make Sammy feel bad.

Dean toasted some bread and divided the soup up into two bowls before bringing them over to the table.

"Hey, what's that?" he asked looking at the picture.

"That's Castiel and Amelia in their garden. I'm gonna give it to them to put on their fridge. There are no pictures on it," Sammy said like it was a crime. Their own fridge was a collage of Sammy's various school works and pictures, and Dean was always eager to appreciate this brothers' work.

"You really like them, don't you?" Dean asked sitting down next to Sam and taking a bite of the toast.

"Yes, they're great. I bet mom would have liked them too."

Dean winced internally. He hated talking about his mom, the loss still felt too fresh, even after three years. But thankfully Sammy seemed to have been able to move on.

"Probably. Just… you know, don't get too attached to them. You, erm, never know when they have to leave again."

"Don't be stupid Dean! They just moved in, of course they're not going anywhere." Sammy stated matter-of-factly and Dean just rolled his eyes and urged his brother to eat his dinner.

Later, while he was washing up he couldn't help the queasiness in his stomach at the thought of how Sammy seemed to get close to these people they barely knew. Yes, they seemed nice enough, but in the end they were not family, not even friends really. And he didn't want Sammy to get hurt by getting too attached to them. He had noticed how his eyes lit up whenever Amelia would smother him with her attention and while he was happy for him, he couldn't help the dread at the knowledge that this was not going to last. Nothing good in life ever lasted. He sometimes wished he had Sammy's love for people and above that his trust in people. But he really couldn't afford that. Also he did not ever again want to hurt like he had when he realised that his mom would never be coming back, never tuck him in again, read him a bed time story and bake his favourite pie for him.

It was safer not to grow too close to people at all. With the exception of his nerdy little brother that was, as long as Sammy was happy he himself was at least ok. And if being at Amelia's and Castiel made him happy, Dean would let him continue to go there. On top of that, Castiel was good for a laugh sometimes, when he didn't get a reference and looked at Dean all confused, face scrunched up. Dean knew he was studying to be a professor but Castiel seemed to have taken the whole "nutty professor" thing a bit too literally, being in his own world half the time.

Finishing up the dishes and making sure Sam went to bed at a reasonable time, Dean actually allowed himself to go to bed with a small smile on his face.