A:N: I just want to say thank you for the reviews and alerts, really means a lot to me. Now are you ready for some angst? I'm afraid there will be a fair bit in this chapter. Of course that was to be expected after the last one, and apologies for the small cliffhanger at the end, but the chapter was getting to long as is, so I decided to put that scene off till the next chapter.
Chapter 8
"Dean, what time will dad be home?"
"No idea, think he's on late shift tonight. Why'dya wanna know?" Dean mumbled, while trying to make sense of his stupid math homework.
"Nothing - just, I need new shoes." Sam volunteered after a moment's hesitation. He knew money was an issue but this morning it had been raining and he had spent most of the day with soaked socks and just couldn't put this off any longer.
"You sure?" Dean's head shot up, but even while he asked he knew that most likely Sammy's shoes were beyond repair. He hardly ever asked for anything not unless he really needed it or it had to do with school; that was the one area he hated to compromise on. Clothes definitely were generally very low on his list.
"I - there's a hole in my right shoe, and normally I'd be fine with it, just with the weather lately-" Sam said looking apologetically and Dean hated this, despised that his baby brother felt bad for asking about something as simple as new shoes.
"Let's see," Dean took the shoes out of his brother's hands, inspecting them meticulously, hoping against hope that there were salvageable for at least a little while longer. There was about 10 bucks left for food and no real idea when their dad would give them any more money. He had taken to leave Dean in charge of the shopping (and in unspoken terms of Sammy), being as he was still working erratic hours, leaving him some cash every week or so. But where he spent the rest of his time, Dean rather not know. He had been scarce around their home lately. He hoped that most of their dad's earnings went on paying off long overdue bills to at least keep the house with electricity and water. Though Dean had no doubt that a fair amount was left in a bar somewhere.
Dean knew their dad tried, or at least he had to tell himself that to not start to feel despondent, and tried to be grateful that he was holding down this latest job. Still that didn't ease the worry of making the money stretch, not quite knowing when there would be more. There was no way he would ask their dad for more than he wanted to give, well maybe for the shoes but otherwise, no. Dean had seriously toyed with the idea of finding himself a job, but the idea of getting a permit and of leaving Sammy alone for hours on end had put him off so far. He would have to look into it again. If they didn't need to rely on their father's income so much it would just be easier all around. Maybe he could squeeze in a paper route before he needed to get Sammy up for school.
"Damn, they're really gone," he grumbled, poking a finger through a hole in the sole. "Maybe we can make it to the thrift shop on Saturday; you think you will manage until then? Maybe wear two pairs of socks?" The thrift shop was a good 40 minutes walk each way, and there was not a chance they would be able to squeeze that in on a school day. Dean hated to ask his brother for this, but how was he gonna get him new shoes on a Wednesday evening? At any rate, it would quite possibly be shoes or food.
"But what if it continues to rain?" Sammy protested meekly, not really fancying another day of wet socks.
"M sorry Sammy, it's just that – money's a bit tight this week, and-"
"Don't give me that, money's always tight, I know that- and we both know whose fault that is."
"Sam, dad's trying his best. He's got a job after all."
"Stop making excuses for him, he's-"
"No Sammy, leave it! I'm gonna sort you out some new shoes, ok. Just gimme a day or two." They would just have to find time to make their way down to the thrift shop and pray they have shoes in Sammy's size.
"How much money have we got left?"
"You don't need to worry about that."
"Dean, don't treat me like a baby- if anything YOU shouldn't have to worry about that, this should be dad's job!" Sammy whined.
"Then stop acting like one, and let me handle it." Dean snapped a bit sharper than he intended, shoving his homework to one side. He was not in the mood for math anymore. Instead he got up and started to go through the kitchen cabinet, trying to look for something that could pass as dinner. He realized that there really wasn't much food left. Some dried pasta, a couple of slices of bread and cereal. The fridge looked equally as bare. A half empty carton of milk, a small lump of cheese and some butter. They would need the milk and cereal for breakfast and the bread for the packed lunch. And Dean would have to hit the shops tomorrow, hunting for some basic supplies and reduced items, and somehow try to get some shoes for his brother.
Sammy huffed, rolling his eyes before angrily slumping down on a chair, pulling up his own homework. Dean could be a stubborn ass. He was fully aware how tight things were money wise, no matter how much his older brother tried to keep it from him. Having your power and water cut on a regular basis generally served as a pretty good clue, not to mention the leaking roof and the chipped toilet bowl. He just wished Dean would stop hiding things from him. He was ten now, he could handle it.
"Pasta with … cheese and butter?" Dean held the items up, trying to go for a smirk. "Afraid we have to go easy on the food for a few days."
"Sure," Sammy replied, and then as on cue, the lights flickered before they were plunged into darkness.
"Shit" Dean cursed and slammed the pack of pasta down on the worktop. Sometimes he hated this, his life. But as fast as that thought appeared he managed to push it back down. There was no point in wallowing in self pity. But what the hell were they going to do about dinner and homework now.
"The power again? What the hell is dad doing with all this money he apparently earns?"
"Sammy," Dean growled.
"No, stop defending him, he's probably out drinking away half his earnings, and in the meantime I can't even do my homework because the stupid bills don't get paid." Sammy pushed out of the chair and grabbed his books.
"Hey, where' you're going?"
"Over to Cas and Amelia, you know people who actually care about us. And I'm sure they have power, and maybe even some food to spare."
"NO," Dean shouted. "No, we're not beggars and we won't-."
"You know they don't mind, in fact they-"
"I said NO!" Dean shouted, instantly regretting it when his little brother flinched. "Sorry," he added quickly.
"Dean, stop being a jackass, I don't want to take advantage of them either but- you know they at least give a damn." leaving the 'unlike our dad' unspoken. "Plus I need to get this homework done."
"I'm not gonna, I can't-" Dean muttered, his pride more than anything stopping him. He knew both Amelia and Cas would help in a heartbeat, but Dean couldn't help it. He hated to look needy, vulnerable, although logically he knew that they were aware of their family situation.
"Well, I'm going; I have to still tell Castiel about my grade in the science project anyway." And damn his stubborn little bitch of a brother, he put his holed shoes on, grabbed his school bag and determinedly strutted out of the house and across the street, leaving Dean standing in the kitchen staring at the pasta that seemed to be mocking him just by its existence.
Dean brooded in the dark kitchen for all but five minutes before he went after his doofus brother.
He knocked on the door, still feeling kinda stupid and angry but the second he set eyes on Cas as he opened the door, all that evaporated. The man looked like hell, haggard and tired, with dark rings under his eyes. He had not seen him since last Saturday and worried what could have possibly have gotten Cas into this state. The small tired smile he directed at Dean was not really reaching his blue eyes.
"Hello, Dean. I guess you are looking for your brother. He is in the kitchen." Cas motioned for Dean to follow him inside but Dean just stood glued to the spot, still staring at him.
"Dean, are you alright?" Concern seeped into Cas' voice, when he remained motionless.
"Yeah- yes, I'm fine, just making sure my little brother is not bothering you," he quickly replied. I should be asking you the same thing, Dean thought but for some reason he didn't. He didn't want to be seen to be prying. If Cas needed to talk Dean was sure he would bring whatever it was up at one point. At least he hoped he would. After all they had shared quit a bit of their personal crap over the months.
"Sammy is never a bother, you know that. In fact he was just telling me how the project went. He did very well indeed but I am sure you have heard it a million times already."
"Yeah, he was really proud of it, if you haven't guessed."
Cas let out a small chuckle and Dean smiled at him. It felt good to see Cas' face light up. And it felt nice that there was someone beside himself Sammy could brag about his achievements at school. His kid brother really deserved someone to take an interest.
He followed Cas into the kitchen, walked past his brother and ruffled his hair in an affectionate apology. Sammy just grunted, being engrossed in his homework. 'Freak' Dean thought warmly as he pulled up a chair sitting down next to him.
"Is Amelia not in?" Dean asked after a moment of looking around the kitchen, taking in its general state. There were too many dishes in the sink that clearly had been there for more than a day. Things generally were slightly out of place, which was uncharacteristic for Cas; he was a bit of a perfectionist, with slight OCD tendencies when it came to the placement of certain items. A quirk Dean had come to like about the man, being as his own life so often resembled anything but order. All in all things just felt off.
And even if he had tried, he wouldn't have been able to miss the way Cas' face fell, how he drew in on himself at the mention of Amelia's name.
"No, she's- still at work." Cas quickly answered, having trouble keeping his composure. He could feel his eyes sting and took in a deep breath as he had to turn away for a second. Fact was Amelia had decided to stay with a friend for a few days, to try and clear her head and to get some perspective. She turned up again Saturday night, a few hours after Cas' confession, to try and talk but that had quickly dissolved into nothing more than both of them crying. That was when she had grabbed a bag, stuffed a few clothes inside and said she would call him in a few days.
He hadn't heard from her since and wanted to give her the space she had asked for. But it was driving him insane. He hardly slept, guilt and disgust washing over him in waves every time he closed his eyes. His never ending internal monologue of how he screwed it all up, how he didn't deserve any better, how he was 'wrong', keeping him awake. His work days went by in some coffee induced stupor and any attempts at trying to work on his thesis had proven futile. Last night he even tried to drink until he couldn't think, couldn't feel anymore, and had almost called Gabriel. He just needed to tell someone. Not that he expected Gabriel to understand or to be sympathetic. But he was the only one who knew about his condition; who else was there he could possibly talk to? In the end he drank so much he passed out, something he won't repeat any time soon as he spent the early hours of today puking his guts out.
"Ah, ok." Dean acknowledged, still eyeing Cas and trying to work out what was bothering him so much. This was not the Cas he knew. There was a knock on the door and the older man briefly excused himself, returning a moment later with a large pizza box.
"As I told Sammy, I ordered some pizza, no point cooking just for me." Cas tried to sound casual but his voice still sounded strained. "But actually I'm not really that hungry, so feel free to help yourselves and you know- make yourselves at home. I am afraid I will not be a very good host tonight, I have to get some work done, so I hope you do not mind me heading upstairs for a bit." Cas had no idea why he ordered that pizza in the first place. I wasn't like he felt like eating much lately. Just as well the brothers turned up or he would have probably ended up dumping it.
"Sure thing, you want us to leave you some for later?" Dean said even as Sammy already grabbed the first slice and mumbled a "tgh u" with his mouth full.
"No, you two just eat." Cas replied before heading upstairs leaving the two brothers in his warm, well lit, and smelling of wonderful pizza, kitchen. He just needed to be alone for a moment, at the same time the loneliness he felt in his heart lately was tearing him apart. Nothing made sense anymore.
Dean chewed on a slice of pizza but couldn't really relax despite being relieved and happy Sammy got some warm food to eat and a place to do his homework. And it wasn't even the overshadowing worry about how he was gonna get groceries and shoes for his brother. It was Cas that was on his mind. A longing to check on his friend, to somehow make whatever was weighing down on him better. He just knew something was up, no matter how much Cas tried to put on a brave face.
Dean managed to restrain himself for the better part of half an hour, occupying himself with eating and watching his brother immersed in his homework. He tried distracting himself by milling around the kitchen; help Cas in some practical way at least. Still nothing worked, the antsy feeling inside just became too much eventually and he excused himself, telling Sammy he was just going to check if Cas needed a drink or something.
He felt his heart start to beat rapidly in his chest combined with a weird flutter in his stomach as he walked up the stairs, a mixture of anticipation and dread. Dean told himself to get a grip as he stopped outside the slightly ajar door to Cas' study. A place he had spent so much time in, sitting beside the man, reading, or lately, just watching him, studying the way his face changed depending whether he was reading or typing. How he chewed the end of his marker pen as he was processing information and how his left leg always developed a slight nervous tick, moving up and down, when he disagreed with something he had just read (Dean knew that because he had asked him about it once, at the time his leg had gone at a hundred miles an hour, Cas seemingly oblivious to it until Dean pointed it out).
He knocked tentatively on the door to make his presence known before he walked in.
"Hey Cas, I just-" the rest of the words got stuck in his throat. There was Cas, sat in the comfy chair, the one that Dean had to come to think as 'his', against the far wall of the study, looking up at Dean with wide red rimmed eyes, while furiously trying to wipe away the tears with his sleeve. Dean could feel his heart plummet at the sight of the man. Words failed him, so instinctively he did the only thing that came to mind, crossing the room in a few quick strides and throwing his arms around his friend.
"Oh Cas," he rasped, hating the way his voice broke off into a high pitch at the end. His voice had broken a few months ago but still at times of stress it had a tendency to fail him.
"Dean, no, it's-" Cas protested weakly, before giving in and smashing his face into Dean's chest. He didn't have it in him to hold back, to pretend things were ok, having been caught crying red handed, he didn't even see the point. He should probably feel embarrassed being comforted by the teenager, he was the adult here after all and yet, he couldn't stop the tears. It had been too much pressure, too much self flagellation and too little sleep to have the luxury of keeping face.
Dean just clung to him tighter the more he sobbed, coming to stand between Cas' bent legs. Being considerably taller standing up, Dean rested his head on top of Cas', feeling the man shudder and shake against him.
"Cas, oh god, just tell me what's wrong, please", he pleaded, worry that something is seriously wrong with Cas creeping up his spine. What if he was ill, Dean didn't know if he could stand losing him.
"I just, I can't Dean," Cas sniveled into his chest, shaking his head. The mere idea of telling someone else, of having to go through the whole drama again, was suffocating him, like the more people he would tell, the truer it became.
"Ok, it's ok. You don't have to." Dean whispered, tightening his hold on the man to the point his arms ached. In doing so he pulled himself even closer to his friend until his whole body was pressed tight against the older man's, engulfing him with it. Cas eventually brought his own arms up and wrapped them tightly around Dean's waist.
Seconds turned into minutes and Dean drew closer to Cas still until in a split second of absolute madness he lowered himself on one of Cas' strong legs, feeling the muscles in the man's thigh work hard at supporting his weight. He tensed for a moment in fear of being pushed off but the push never came. Instead Cas pressed his face against the crook of his neck, and Dean buried his own face and nose to the side of Cas' head, taking in the scent of his hair. And oh god, his pulse was racing and he was tingling all over. His treacherous body definitely had a mind of its own. He could feel his hardness press against the zipper of his jeans but didn't really care whether Cas would notice or not. A small, very very small and very naughty part of him even thought that maybe he should notice, maybe then Dean could finally admit out loud what Cas did to him and they could- No, Dean mentally scolded himself. Now was definitely not the time to have those thoughts or to be this selfish. There was something wrong with Cas and he would need a friend. And why was Amelia not here? Did she not know? What kind of wife was she? God, Dean had to stop thinking. Amelia had been nothing but nice and kind to them, she probably didn't know or she wouldn't have left her husband alone like this.
Dean carded his fingers through Cas' hair and continued to do so until eventually he could feel Cas calm down, breathing returning to a somewhat normal level. Only then, and very reluctantly, because honestly he could stay here on Cas' lap for all eternity, he removed himself from the embrace, looking at the mess of a man still hunched on the seat. He looked wrecked and absolutely exhausted.
"Cas, I think you should try and get some sleep, come on," he said assertively.
"Dean, thanks but you don't have to- I can take care of myself," came the feeble protest.
"Sure you can but - look, I don't know what's wrong but, you always look after me and Sammy, so let me look after you for a change. I'm good at looking after people."
Cas was too tired to argue and nodded his head, leading the way to his bedroom.
Dean swallowed nervously; he had never been in Cas' bedroom before. When he glanced into it, he had a feeling that like the kitchen, it would not normally be this messy, bed unmade and clothes strewn across a variety of surfaces. His continued to take in the room, his eyes coming to rest on a framed picture of Cas and Amelia on their wedding day that stood on the night stand, laughing freely at the camera. For some reason Dean's stomach lurched at the image. So he quickly turned and focused on his friend again. "Why don't you lie down and I make you something to drink. Maybe not coffee though." He joked with a wink, trying to lighten the mood.
Cas hummed his agreement to the offer and sat down on the bed, bringing his arms up over his head and stretching upwards in an attempt to loosen up his tense muscles. Dean thought Cas looked magnificent in that moment as he couldn't help but stare. Cas' body was strong, a man's body, yet fluid in motion and he proved to be very bendy as he rolled his shoulders and brought his arms back behind his head to an angle that would have Dean's sockets pop. Dean swallowed back the excess saliva that suddenly flooded his mouth as his dick twitched with renewed interest. Oh god, he was all kinds of messed up over this man, no amount of going steady with a girl, and very happily having gotten to second base under the bleachers a few days ago, could change that. Still he felt guilty. For one, now was definitely not the time to harbor his man crush. With flushed cheeks he turned around and was halfway out of the door when he heard Cas' rasped. "A hot chocolate would be nice."
"Sure, coming right up," Dean replied as he went back downstairs and grinned when Sammy was still exactly where he had left him, perched over his books. Little nerd would get far in life.
"Hey Sammy, I'm making hot chocolate, want some?"
"Yeah." Sammy enthused, briefly looking up from his book.
"How's homework going?"
"Almost done, so if you want to head home in a bit."
"I- Cas is not feeling too well and I'm going to bring him a drink and stuff, make sure he's ok. Least I can do, so if you want to watch some TV until we go."
"Oh, what's wrong with him?"
"Dunno, probably just a bug or something." Dean brushed his brother off. Well, he really didn't have a clue what was wrong, so what could he even say.
"Ah, he should have just said. But yeah, I'll find something to do for a bit," Sammy said, "not that we got power back home anyway." Crap, Dean had actually managed to forget about that in his Cas induced frenzy but now a cold shiver worked its way down his spine as he added 'having to somehow ask dad to pay for the electricity' to his list of money worries.
Temporarily wiping those thoughts from his mind, he set about preparing three mugs of hot chocolate, putting in some marshmallows, that Amelia had bought primarily for Sammy, but hell they could all do with a sweet treat, and passed one to his brother before walking back up with the remaining two steaming mugs. Cas had snuggled under the blanket and curled up into a ball like shape. Oh god, how badly Dean wanted to climb onto that bed and curl up around the man, felt that pull again to have the press of Cas' warm body against his once more. Whether to give comfort or whether to get some desperately needed one himself for once, he wasn't sure anymore, and did it even matter?
"Here you go," he said putting the mug on the bedside table. "Hope you don't mind I put some marshmallows in it."
Cas sat up against the headboard, giving him a small smile as he picked up the mug and fished some of the half melted marshmallows out with is fingers, putting them into his mouth, moaning contentedly as the sweetness hit his taste buds.
"Not at all, just what I needed I think." He hummed as he licked his fingers clean and Dean swallowed back a moan at the sight in front of him. Life was not fucking fair, he thought as he averted his eyes, feeling his face and other regions heat up, and sat down at the end of the bed, sipping his own drink.
They finished their hot chocolates in relative silence. Dean not trusting himself to look back at Cas. Only when he heard a mumbled "thank you" and the clunk of the mug being put down on the bedside table, did he look up. Cas was burying himself under the blanket once more and couldn't help a big yawn escaping him.
Dean stood up and picked up Cas' empty mug. "I'm just gonna wash these and then- probably should head home, you know." He was just about to walk out, a 'good night' on his lips, when Cas spoke, very quietly but to Dean it came across crystal clear. "Stay- for a bit." Dean's heart started hammering hard in his chest, adrenaline flooding every pore of his body, stomach doing an excited flip.
"Sure," he replied as he turned around, trying to keep his voice steady. He placed the mugs back on the table and shrugged out of his shoes. He had no idea whether the invitation to stay actually stretched to him lying down next to Cas. But really not caring and too afraid to ask in case the answer would be 'no, he walked around to the empty half of the bed and climbed on top, keeping above the blanket but shuffling up close to Cas, bringing his arms around the man's waist and pulling him in, relaxing more into the embrace when he didn't seem to complain.
"Try and get some sleep," Dean whispered against the man's dark mussed hair, and Cas, sounding really tired, mumbled in agreement. After about ten minutes Dean could feel Cas settle more into his embrace and after a couple more he could hear small even snores coming from the solid shape in his arms. Dean couldn't resist and before he carefully removed himself from the bed he pulled himself up on his elbows, taking a good long look at the man's sleeping face, drinking in every detail, from the long lashes to the curve of his lush lips before leaning in and placing a small peck on the side of Cas' stubbled cheek. He felt a shiver shoot through him at the contact of his lips with warm, soft skin.
Dean turned off the light and closed the door before quietly making his way downstairs where he could see the flickering of the TV lightening the hallway from the living room in eerie colors. When he walked in he saw Sammy curled up and fast asleep on the couch. Oh god, what time was it? A quick glance at his phone confirmed that it had gone 11. Dean quickly went to the kitchen, gathering his brother's things and then returned, gently shaking his brother awake. He dragged a halfway coherent Sammy across the rainy and cold November night back to their house, praying that their dad would not be home yet, as he would no doubt tear Dean a new one for being out this late with his baby brother none the less.
The house was shrouded in darkness and Dean used the light of his phone to steer them as best as he could. Their dad was in, but was conveniently passed out on the couch, and Dean for once was grateful that he was not conscious to play dad. One thing he wouldn't have to deal with tonight. He urged Sammy to stay quiet as he ushered him upstairs and somehow managed to get a very grumpy boy to change with only the light from the outside to brighten the room. Dean got him into bed before he himself quickly changed and disappeared into the bathroom, having some business to take care off.
That night was the first time Dean jerked off to thoughts of Cas, allowed his imagination and memories to run wild as he took himself in hand and remembered the way he smelled, the way his strong back felt under Dean's hands and how his hair felt and smelt. He imagined them curled up together in bed again, this time naked and pressed skin to skin, and all the things he would want Cas to do to him. If that made him a fag or whatever, then he didn't really care anymore. Not like anyone would have to ever find out about it. He felt ashamed after, but the longing and the orgasm had been too strong, too good to regret it. Still as he lay in bed that night, the buzz of the release had quickly given way again to worry about his friend and that sinking feeling in his stomach that in real life he could never have anything like what he wanted with him.
#
Cas woke up, rubbing his puffy eyes. It was still dark outside but he at least managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep and for that he was eternally grateful. He sank back into the cushion, taking a few slow deep breaths and enjoying the calmness of the moment between sleep and consciousness. Then the memories came back, of Amelia and how he had hurt her, of what he was- of Dean and how he had looked after him, no questions asked. Dean sitting on his lap (oh god, did that happen?) and did he dream about Dean lying in bed with him, holding him tight or was that for real? And why would he even dream about something like that? Cas could feel panic rising in his chest as it constricted painfully. Why did he not put a stop to such an intimate and inappropriate act of comfort? Did he take advantage of Dean in any shape or form? Use him as a substitute for lack of better company? Did Dean feel like he had to? He rubbed furiously at his face, as though that could chase the thoughts and memories away.
The thing was that in that moment it had been exactly what he needed. A shoulder to cry on, someone to just be there. The teenager had offered his affection and comfort out of his own free will, without any conditions attached to it. Yet, he couldn't shift the feeling that if Dean knew the whole truth about him, he would be appalled, wouldn't want to offer his affection so freely, after all, if not even his own parents could love him unconditionally, how was a fourteen year old boy to be expected to, whether they called each other friends or not. And for that reason alone what he had allowed to happen felt wrong. He should be stronger than that.
And as so many times over these last few weeks, Cas felt his life spiraling further out of control, like he was just being tossed around by the wild storm unable to find something to hold on to. But he knew he had to try, had to stop this downward spiral somehow. And today might be a good a day as any to try and claw back some semblance of control. He looked around the room, sickened by the state he had it allowed to deteriorate to. He might as well start with his room. He had always taken pride and solace in having things exactly the way he needed them to be. He got out of bed and pulled the curtains open for the first time in days. It was still dark outside and raining, but it felt good to have them open regardless. He shook out the cushions, placing them back one by one in a neat fashion before smoothing the comforter out over the mattress.
Next Cas picked up all the dirty clothes and placed them into the clothes basket. It felt good to be doing something so mundane. He climbed into the shower, trying to calm himself further as he felt the hot stream of water against his skin. He wanted to feel like part of the human race again, to find a way to pull himself together. His drunken pass-out and last night's self-wallow had to be the low point and he needed to find a way to carry on.
When he pattered into the kitchen in his dressing gown, freshly washed and shaven, he noticed that Dean had washed up and put away all the built up dishes in the sink. A new wave of affection for the teenager worked its way through Cas. Dean was a good kid and deserved so much better than the lot he had been given, and now Cas had possibly taken his one way of some respite away. What would happen if Amelia wanted a separation? Would they have to sell the house? How would be he able to keep his word to Bobby of looking out for these boys while their father couldn't or didn't want to?
Cas decided there was no point to worry about these things until he had spoken to Amelia. He meant it when he said he would do whatever it took if she still wanted him. He started to make himself some coffee and thought he might as well attempt to use the time until he had to get to university to try and work on his thesis. Life had a tendency to go on whether you wanted it to or not and he had things that needed doing.
#
"Dean" John's stern voice echoed through to the kitchen from where he stood in the doorway. Dean was in the middle of preparing some sandwiches for school. The house was dark and cold but at least they had running water, although they would soon be out of hot water if the electricity didn't come back on.
"Where were you and your brother last night?"
Crap. Busted. Dean swallowed nervously. His first thought going back to being curled up next to Cas, but before he could get any words out, his brother piped in.
"We had no power and I needed to get my homework done, so we went over to Cas'," he said coldly staring their father down. Not good, Dean thought, not good at all, judging by the thunderous way their dad looked at him.
"That doesn't mean you can just stay out half the night and live off other people, I-"
"Well, if you would pay for the electricity, then we would not have to rely on other people." Sammy cut his father off.
"How dare you disrespect me son. I am working hard for the money I earn and sometimes it just doesn't stretch far enough," John bellowed.
"It stretches far enough for your whisky". Sammy shouted and Dean and their dad yelled "Sammy" at the same time.
"You are grounded for a week. And that includes no sneaking around to the neighbors. You go to school and come straight back home. Now get yourself ready or you'll be late."
"I hate you, I hate you," Sammy yelled as he stormed out of the kitchen.
Dean stood glued to the spot. He had wanted to bring up the issue with Sammy's shoes this morning, but instinct told him now would be the worst time possible. Why couldn't Sammy just learn to keep his trap shut? It really wasn't that hard, keep a low profile and don't act out. But no, his baby brother was a hot headed idiot who didn't know how to choose his battles.
"Dean, make sure your brother will keep to his grounding. And, I will pay the electricity bill tomorrow when I get paid."
"Yes, sir," Dean replied. That was probably as good as it would get. Another day or two in darkness was manageable. Maybe he could ask Cas for some candles, now that they couldn't go over there. Shit- he remembered. How was he supposed to bring Sammy to the thrift shop now without risking their dad's wrath? He would just have to take him straight after school and hope their old man kept to his usual routine of working and staying out till late.
"Good, now that's sorted I will have a shower." Dean prayed there was some hot water left as he went back to preparing the packed lunch, making a mental list of foods he could buy cheap that didn't need cooking. It would be cold dinner at least for tonight.
#
Cas pulled into the drive after a long and tiring day at the university. He had to cover once again for the professor who was off at a conference somewhere and a never ending stream of students had given him a headache, eating into his research time. He noticed the lights were on in the house and his heart lurched as he gripped the steering wheel tight. Amelia must be back.
Oh god, this could be it. He felt his pulse race and cold drops of sweat accumulating at his back. It took him a whole five minutes to work up the courage to get out of the car and into the house.
"Amelia?" he asked as he walked through the front door.
"In here," came the reply.
Cas hung up his coat and took of the shoes before he walked through to the living room. Amelia looked tired but beautiful as ever and Cas' heart ached.
"Hi," he said, feeling stupid but not sure what to say or how to start.
"Hey." She tried to smile. "Castiel, please sit down," she said. He nodded and made himself as comfortable as he could be in the chair opposite her.
"I am ready to talk."