A/N: If you've noticed this story is very Castiel in his head based. He thinks a lot, which is how it is when someone experiences trauma; you find yourself in your head a lot. So if that bothers you guys I do apologize. I know it seems Dean and Castiel don't have a lot of interactions but that will change as we move on. We'll see more Dean, more PROTECTIVE DEAN YEY.
Do also keep in mind, Castiel seems very naive and immature at times (thinking Dean is all good and holy) but that's because he was isolated his entire life and he's not very caught up with times and normality of teenagers. He's just very hopeful for the first time in his life. So please keep that in mind before you call him 'childish'.
I am copying from AO3 so formatting may be weird, bare with me on this I will try to change. I RECOMMEND NOT READING ON MOBILE AS ITALICS ARE A BIG PART FOR THE STORY
ITALICS contain GRAPHIC ABUSE.
'You are the most beautiful Castiel. Out of all of your brothers. Out of everyone. You are the prettiest angel ever, do you know that?' Castiel beamed and blushed from the compliment, his father was always telling him things like that, but Castiel thought his brothers were also very beautiful. Castiel stood in place, shivering in his nakedness as his father held the camera and showered him with compliments. A hand weaved itself through his hair, scratching at his scalp soothingly, 'you have your mother's hair' his father's eyes were dreamy as fingers combed the raven locks and then slid down his temples, snapping another picture before running the pad of his thumb across Castiel's eyelids, 'the most precious blue eyes. They look like they hold the ocean' another blush spread across Castiel's face as he smiled, he liked the attention his father gave him, it wasn't like he could get it elsewhere, he wasn't allowed to leave the house, so he groveled in it, craved his father's affection; to be good enough for him. He would do whatever he could to be able to bask in the attention. Calloused fingers trailed down past his nose to swipe over his lips gently, poking inside to touch his tongue, his voice laced with pride 'the softest lips ever. Such a pretty little mouth, good for taking daddy' another snap of the camera, capturing his kiss-swollen lips. Trailing down his chin, fingers laced around his neck carefully and come together to travel down his chest, teasing at his nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers before massaging at his small stomach, 'so skinny and pretty for me baby, just for me' his father leaned back a tad to get a picture of his perked nipples and pale torso. The flash made Castiel squint a tad, making a small noise as the hand returned and wrapped around his cock, inspecting it before more pictures were taken, 'such soft skin, not even any hair yet angel-' he stopped talking to take in the small gasp as he trailed a finger underneath Castiel's small prick, across his perineum and to the tight muscles of his hole, 'So good just for me.' Castiel wiggled at the uncomfortable sensation, whining out as to stop his father who soon stepped back, held the camera up and took a full photo, continuing with other captures as well. After a moment his father set the camera down and got equally as naked, Castiel's five year old eyes squinted in confusion. 'Castiel I want you to touch me here' he pointed to his cock and looked to the confused boy, 'like this' he demonstrated on Castiel once again, cupping his fingers around his small genitals, stroking his cock instructionally. His father released him after a moment and then pointed to himself, 'Show me what you learned.' Castiel swallowed his fear and reached out, taking his much larger father in his hand, and looked up with a terrified squeak as he was coaxed on. For a moment he just held it, not sure what to do until his father instructed him again. Castiel adjusted his hand and used it to stroke and touch the man as he'd been told to; fear was there inside of his chest, worried that he was hurting his father as grunts and moans filled the room; but he was urged to continue, a larger hand covering his own after a moment so they're both pumping the hard thing in unison until his father stilled, telling him not to stop before letting out a loud groan as a substance spurted over Castiel's chest suddenly. The young boy looked down at the thick, white liquid, wondering why that had never come out of him, looking back up to his father, whom panted and pushed his hand off. More photos were taken of his jizz covered body before he was allowed to wipe off with an old shirt and then gathered in his father's arms. 'My pretty angel. So beautiful. So beautiful.'
Castiel frightens himself. He knows somewhere in his head something, a lot of somethings, are broken, things that truly cannot be repaired, yet even with that knowledge he still lets himself waver across the line of insanity once in a while. Dean being most of those 'one in a whiles'.
Now that he and Dean had established their new friendship, Castiel found himself ravenously drinking up his attention and withering with parchment when he is gone. Castiel finds himself coveting for Dean's approval at every turn, cautious and alert with his emotions and reactions. He knows deep in his subconscious it is not right, not normal to feel such intense longings for petty things like attention, but he can't help it, so he allows the reasonable part of his brain to shut off and let the part that longs for more of Dean's light to come through.
That is why, now, Castiel finds himself compulsively cleaning up his room, placing things in alphabetical order and by height, finishing and moving on to the kitchen and finally the living room, just waiting for Dean's arrival. Gabriel had insisted on Dean and Sam coming over to hang out since it would be a long weekend; Castiel felt his hands shake with unwarranted apprehension and deep seeded desire. He wished Dean would hold him, just hold him; he craved for that innocent skin to skin contact. He didn't want to feel lonely any more. No longer wanted to feel the phantom hands that probed him, even worse, the slight ache for his father to hold him close and give him his utmost attention, he didn't want to feel it.
If Dean could give that to him, that attention he so desired for, then perhaps, he could forget his father, erase the ever lingering scent of whiskey and pine, shed more light on the places in Castiel that had never seen it, make him whole. It was a lot to ask for a person he'd just met, Castiel knew this in the back of his mind, knew Dean would take one look inside Castiel and go running for the hills, but the other side of him, the hopeful side, remembers the way Dean had clutched his hand, threw his energy straight into the broken boy and actually ignited the hopefulness.
Castiel sits at the counter listening as his mind roars back and forth; Dean hadn't seemed to mind how Castiel had followed him around as a lost puppy would, he seemed to encourage it. He didn't mind Castiel being content with just him speaking and not saying a word back. Dean is different, he reminds himself. Dean is full of color and luminescence. Dean is light incarnate. Dean sees something inside Castiel worth fighting for; worth coming to school every day and giving him a warm smile, worth walking him to each of his classes and warning Crowley away. Dean saw worth where Castiel saw worthlessness.
Dean is good. When Dean touches things they turn white and pure, Castiel is sure of it. That is why the touch of his hand still resonates within Castiel, he'd allowed purity to run through his veins; if Castiel could just have more of Dean then perhaps he could be wiped clean. Tabula Rasa. Castiel smiles inside of himself, Dean is here to save him.
He pushes any other doubts he may have about Dean and his astounding light away, totally out of his mind, because he's sure Dean is nothing but virtuous; he would never try to hurt Castiel, only attempt to wipe away the blackness his father's fingers had smudged across his soul.
He lets his mind wander to other things, like the fact that Dean and Sam will be coming to stay the night, a sleepover, Gabriel had called it. Castiel had never seen anyone come over to their house, but, perhaps if anyone had, he would not have known since he hadn't been allowed to leave him and his father's room. He began to fret over proper sleepover etiquette. What was he supposed to act like? What should he speak about?
Castiel wondered if Dean, Sam and Gabriel would talk about sex as he'd heard them doing so once; he'd been confused, wondering why people would choose to speak about the acts they performed, but quickly realized it is a normal thing among his high school peers to speak of sex as if it were a common act; Castiel had always been under the impression those were things you kept hush-hush, didn't talk about.
'You can't tell anybody about the angel, okay? People will be very angry and take you away if you do'
The youngest Novak feels a small trickle of trepidation slither into his lungs, wondering if it will be required that he, too, speaks about sexual acts he's performed; he'd seen in movies how the teenagers typically all swapped stories, meaning it would be rude for him not to speak about the customary things one would during such events. The thought of doing so sent him into a panic, he gripped the edge of the table till his knuckles whitened, trying to keep himself steady, taking deep, rehabilitating breaths that did nothing to soothe his panic.
He did not want to talk about those times, his therapists had already tried to get him to enough, but to speak to Dean about such abhorred acts he'd performed… no, he could not possibly let Dean see the real side of him. Then he would know. He would know why Castiel craved his attention, or why he would walk into the bathroom at times and find Castiel in full blown panic mode. He would know and he would be absolutely disgusted with Castiel, the real Castiel.
'Don't ever be ashamed of yourself baby boy. You're so beautiful'
Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, yes, god yes, there were a millions reasons Castiel should be ashamed of himself, he and his tainted skin. Castiel breathes out quickly, willing himself to not let his father ruin this new experience for him. But he can't help but turn to face the small mirror hanging on the wall, blinking his twilight eyes, brushing his black tousled hair back.
Beautiful. Does Dean think is? He wouldn't mind if Dean thought he was beautiful. Maybe then he might even believe it. Impossible, he shakes his head, he wasn't beautiful. He could never be beautiful. Not with his father's eyes and his mother's hair. No. Stop. He presses his fists into his eyes, trying to keep his thoughts from again straying.
But, he loathe they continue, don't you want to be beautiful? Like your father always said? Castiel nods slightly, but how could he be? How could he be beautiful if he hated every inch of himself. Hated himself more than anyone could possibly imagine. Nothing about him was beautiful, not his jutted hipbones that tingled with past kisses, or his sides that had once been ever painted with finger bruises. Not his legs that had been easily maneuvered to someone's liking, or his arms that had been pinned down the first time he'd tried to scream and fight back. He was never beautiful. So why then, had he been chosen? He is too deep in his thoughts now, too engrossed in visions of the past.
'Your skin is so pale angel, it brings out those pretty little eyes'
'Say thank you Castiel, you should appreciate the things I do to you. They're very special'
'You're so gorgeous angel. Come on now, put it in your mouth'
'My precious, little boy'
"Why was I the prettiest?" Castiel's head is muddled and heavy, thick like syrup and he knows his eyes are glazed over in indifference as the words seem to be spoken by someone else. He wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, or, perhaps he was; perhaps he hoped his father would come and explain, make something, anything, right about the situation. But that would never happen and he was left with startling his brother Lucifer, whom he hadn't even realized had been in the kitchen, dropping his knife down on a ceramic plate with a loud thunk. Silence follows for a few moments before Lucifer's voice wafts in, sounding almost hesitant, "Cassie?" Castiel has no desire to look up, just continues blankly staring into the wooden table as if it held all the answers to the universe.
His older brother approaches him slowly, like he's a spooked animal waiting to bite its own leg off and scamper away, stopping steps in front of him before kneeling down to seem less intimidating, taking in his little brothers foggy eyes. "Castiel? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He speaks slowly, as if he's talking to a young child, waiting patiently for a reply as Castiel forgets how to use his voice.
'Don't tell your brothers Castiel. You're the most beautiful. Out of them all'
Why? Why was he? What was it that made him so different from all of his brothers? Why him? Why not his brothers? He found himself juggling anger and sadness at the same time.
"Cassie" Lucifer reaches out and touches Castiel's shoulder, trying to shake him from his stupor, but the contact only makes Castiel jump, knocking his chair over and scrambling back, "D-Don't touch me! I don't want you to touch me! I don't want any of you to touch me!" He felt the words spill from his mouth, as he hesitantly brings his hands up to tug at tufts of his hair, because he'd just been fine minutes ago, Dean was coming, he was supposed to be happy, but the only thing he could feel was anger.
Surely he'd been a good kid, surely he hadn't deserved everything that'd happened to him, right? But then again, why would it of happened if there wasn't something truly wrong with him? Maybe he is sick, not sick like father had told him, feeding him pills to make him vomit and feel dizzy, but sick inside his head, ill with the idea that he could be anything but used. Perhaps he was sick enough to believe Dean could help him, to believe his brilliant light would even want to go near someone as grotesque as himself. Sick enough to believe he could be free.
His brother is speaking frantically to him but his head is too filled up with the sound of his father because god, Castiel thinks, he was right. About everything.
'No one is going to love you like I do. No one is going to touch you like I do. No one is going to understand you, like me Castiel. So get your ass on that damn bed'
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" He shouts. He wants it to. So badly. In this moment he just wishes for everything to freeze so he can get his head in order. Except, that'll never happen because his head is already too out of whack to ever be in order, he is too scarred, too damaged to become something even halfway sane. He is mentally shackled, a prisoner in his own head, at times he wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't, though, Lucifer grabbing his arms and shaking him surely is. "Castiel, I'm sorry, please I need you to calm down okay, I'm sorry to touch you, lets go lay down, how 'bout it?" He's desperately trying to reason, but Castiel can't find it within himself to feel bad about scaring his brother because why had father chosen me? WHY ME?
Tears cascade down his face, not of his own accord though, because everything in his body feels as if it's lost feeling, his face, his arms, his legs, they're all limp with anger and pain. "I don't want to be the prettiest Lucifer! I don't wanna be!" he begs, as if saying all this will take it all back, as if he could possibly make the past right. Ha. That would be the day. Lucifer looks positively green in the face, eyes wide with fear, it makes Castiel want to laugh because, what in the world did he have to fear? So he does, he forces out a sarcastic chuckle taking a particularly large tug of his hair, jerking his head to the side. Stop. Stop. Stop. Be normal. Normal. He laughs again, it's not happy, not laced with sarcasm, but forced and desperate, he wishes to laugh for real. Soon the sounds of his fake laughter die, choked out by the sound of his sobs as his knees tremble and he nearly collapses to the floor if not for his quick, reflexive brother that keeps him upright, reminding him too much of a broken five year old, learning for the first time he's 'sick' and that's why he's not allowed to go play with his brothers, crying as he collapsed in his father's arms that promised to provide comfort and a cure.
'I'll make you all better, okay Cassie? You have to do what I say though. Okay?'
"Let's lay you down okay?" Castiel looks up at his father's, no, Lucifer's face and nods, tears spilling over his lips and down his neck.
"Okay."
-x-
Castiel calms down a couple hours later, crawling out from under his desk, breathing in deeply, now back in the real world. Dean will be coming in fifteen minutes. A spark of excitement fills Castiel has he hurriedly changes from his night clothes to a comfortable hoodie and sweat pants, running to his bathroom to work at his hair, no avail, it is untamable. He grabs his iPod and shoves the earbuds in as to keep his mind from straying before Dean can get here, he couldn't handle having a meltdown with him watching. He switches it on and turns it up so the music is bubbling up and spilling out of the bud, able to be heard by anyone who is close, as he exits his room.
We gather here to sing for you, the words you've written. Each bloodshot beauty still rings true, from violent crashes
He gently moves his head to the music, listening to each word, each pronunciation, each syllable, only focusing on that, not allowing himself to think of anything else. He moves swiftly to the living room, passing Gabriel, not hearing his call of "You're going to bust your damn ears out with that screaming shit." He doesn't glance up from the floor to acknowledge Michael as he wanders around the living space.
Gently rest your weary head, what you live for now is dead
Going boneless and falling into the armchair, lacing his legs across and stretching like a cat. Dean. Castiel imagines him driving in his beloved car, the one he calls baby. He wonders if Dean is as excited as he is to see each other, perhaps Dean feels apprehensive too?
Goodnight.
Castiel bristles in what feels like, to him, happiness with the thought of Dean and his light coming into their home, allowing his soul to smother the memories, no longer heavy with their father.
Goodbye.
He visualizes the galaxies that make up Dean's bones pouring out, the constellations that pump through his veins making his skin glow. Crack him open, Castiel thinks, and you'd see the universe. Dean is everything good. Dean holds the essence of life in his breath, shakes the dust of stars from his flesh.
A soul surrender.
Dean is an anomaly that Castiel wouldn't mind spending years trying to figure out. Dean is- the doorbell rings, he can hear it over his headphones even, Dean is here! Castiel quickly bounces up, walking behind Gabriel, whom is hurrying to answer the door.
This love will set you free from thoughts of yesterday
Gabriel throws a strange smile to Castiel, who hasn't even taken his headphones out in his excitement; Castiel wonders vaguely if Gabriel doesn't see what he sees in Dean, but he has no time to dwell on it as the door opens and reveals the two Winchesters. Castiel zeros in on only one though, peering over to see those emerald gems, those irises that hold the expanse of valleys and the immeasurable height of mountains. He stares for a moment before those gems fall on his own eyes. Castiel swallows hard, mesmerized, before ripping the headphones out of his ears as he sees Dean's lips moving but not understanding, throwing his iPod on the table, still blaring his music as he waves gently, "Hello, Dean" They shuffle back to let the boys in, slinging their bags aside, "Hey Cas! Long time no see!" he throws his arm around Castiel, who tilts his head, "No it hasn't, it's barely been twenty four hours Dean?" The elder Winchester just laughs, pats his back and shakes his head, "I was just joking with you." Castiel finds his lips curling into a small smile, snatching his player and going to turn it off.
Now death has come to claim your Beautiful Remains.
-x-
They spent most of the day playing video games, eating and even throwing a football around outside. It was getting late as they all gathered together in the living room to play the station and talk. Castiel keeps his legs pulled to his chest, head on his knees, watching Dean as he talks, speaking about something entirely insignificant that Castiel can't help but be captivated by. Castiel felt good, they had watched movies and ate junk food and nothing had been out of line, they hadn't talked about anything uncomfortable either. It was the best time Castiel thinks he's ever had, the best day ever.
That is until Gabriel opens his big mouth. Castiel should have known it would be Gabriel who would drop the ball. He begins telling a story about some boy that he'd been dared to kiss and how they both actually enjoyed it, he says this while looking over at Sam with waggling eyebrows, there's a collective groan and Castiel curls tighter to himself in defense.
"So Dean-o, our very own self proclaimed Mr. Bisexual, what about you? Any hookups lately?" He asks throwing a piece of popcorn at Sam who is playfully shoving him over. They'd abandoned the PlayStation all together, lounging on the couch and floor.
Castiel and Dean had actually been engrossed in a nice conversation before Gabriel had gone and ruined it. Typical Gabe. "Of course I have Gabe, you know me, a regular satyriasis in the making," he rolls his eyes as Castiel exhales deeply, perhaps they'd avoided the subject. "No seriously Dean, you and Benny though?" Gabriel wonders out loud, ripping the snickers bar from Sam's hand and looking pointedly at him. "Shit dude. Nothing is on between us, I just heard he had a big dick and well yeah" he shrugs with a sly smile as Sam whines how gross that is and will have to bleach his mind; Castiel, on the other hand, feels his breath hitch because Dean Winchester, the one who held the universe in his heart, should not be speaking like that.
But he keeps talking about it, one after another, women and men that he's been with, until Castiel feels like he can't take it any longer; he'd been under the impression such acts were sacred, not carelessly thrown to whomever. He watches with wide eyes as Dean speaks like he's talking about the weather. Dean is pure, Dean is innocent, Castiel tries to remind himself in his horror. He shouldn't be saying things like...like that. "Castiel!" He jerks his head up to see Lucifer standing in the doorway, smiling as he tilts his head, "Meds." For the first time Castiel feels his cheeks redden as he shamefully walks forward; he'd never been embarrassed at his need for medication until now, with the Winchesters here, he felt more self-conscious. He tries to shake what Dean had been saying from his head as he walks toward the kitchen.
He automatically clutches the glass of water as one pill is set in his hand. Zyprexa. 10mg. He places it on the back of his tongue and swallows it down. Two more pills are set. Fluoxetine. 40mg. Those are hurriedly downed. He finishes the glass of water and thanks Lucifer, "No problem bud. You doing okay with...everything?" He means having people over. Castiel nods automatically, fatigue filling his bones to the brim, doubt overflowing within his mind.
Dean had been so bright. No. Dean is bright. Dean cannot be at fault for past mistakes, Castiel nods, he cannot be angry at Dean. He feels a little better as he walks back to where everyone else is trying to figure out sleeping arrangements, "Well we have two air beds so Sam can sleep in my room and Dean can go to Cassie's" There's a collective nod. It seems to be settled.
Castiel can feel his heart claw its way up his throat, Dean would have to stay in his room. The room that used to be him and his father's. The room that had never held another person, even Castiel's brother's didn't like being in there. The thought of Dean, pellucid Dean, being in a place that held such tainted memories, such toxic air, it was disheartening. He could push the earlier comments from Dean aside, he was still the all encompassing light that Castiel knew he was, nothing, he thinks, could change that. Regardless, he is following the boys, watching Gabriel throw an air mattress on the floor of his room, while Dean throws his bag down on it, his mind a constant mantra of they're standing in my room, get them out of my room.
Castiel tries to keep his calm, though it's hard, even with the pills attempting to assuage him. Dean turns to Castiel and smiles, "Guess we're roommates for tonight!" Castiel can't help but quirk a bit of a smile, even in his apprehension because Dean's smile is what dreams are made of. Castiel bunches the sleeves of his hoodie around his hands and squeezes, nodding back at him. They all spend a bit more time eating before retiring to their respective rooms, Dean with a warning of, if you do anything with my little brother Gabe I will personally kill you. Castiel wonders, if he were normal, would Gabriel make a joke along the same lines back, but he knows Gabriel would never, that he is too scared of sending Castiel off at such implications, even if they're jokingly.
Castiel sits down on the edge of his bed, watching as Dean inspects CD's on his desk. "Man, you have some strange music tastes" Dean chuckles sifting through the stack, "Thank...you?" Castiel isn't sure if it's a compliment, Dean just smiles and sets them down, walking over to inspect the bookshelf. After he finishes searching through those he moseys around, nothing more to look at; Castiel had kept his room looking as bare as it had when his father had lived in it.
"You're a mystery Castiel Novak" he speaks after a moment of silence, Castiel's head shoots up, confused.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Not at all." Dean smiles and walks towards him, the bed dipping as he sits next to him.
"You just… you rarely speak, but you listen to me babble on about the stupidest shit. And you look at me like I'm a good person or something." He chuckles and scratches the back of his short, sandy hair. Castiel thinks he looks uncomfortable with relaying this information.
"You are a good person Dean."
Castiel nods his head, because yes, that is true. He wishes he could tell Dean about what he sees inside of him. The golden bright of his soul that reaches out and makes Castiel feel safe. The cocoon he'd created for Castiel. "You're like the stars. But more than that."
"What do you mean?" Dean sounds curious and Castiel realizes he'd said that out loud, so for the thousandth time today he finds himself blushing and looking away. "N-nothing. Sorry...I'm sorry" He hopes Dean isn't too worried or freaked out by him.
"Cas. Stop. It's okay, look at me" he does and he sees those green eyes looking straight into his own and then in a final act of surprise Dean leans forward, capturing Castiel's lips, chastely kissing him. And, for a moment, Castiel is lost in the feeling of it, the way it feels absolutely right and although he doesn't kiss back he feels his head fog and body thrum with crackles of excited energy, that is until his entire world comes crashing down around him as a hand rests on his upper leg, stroking a moment, and suddenly Castiel is pushing Dean away, his eyes bulging in horror, and flashes of memories are bursting behind his eyes.
'Only I can touch you like this angel. Only I will make you feel this way'
"Castiel?" No. No. No! Castiel squeaks out in horror, scrambling back, off his bed and to the side of the room, throwing his hands out so Dean doesn't come any closer. "I-I thought this is what you wanted...You followed me around and looked at me like…" Dean is trying to justify himself but all Castiel can hear is the gruff voice of his father. Dean is just like him. Dean doesn't want Castiel the person, Dean wants Castiel the walking fuck toy. But, but his light. H-he was so pure. I felt it. I felt him. But the only thing Castiel feels are his insides ice over once again, his mind trying to recoil into the inner recesses of itself.
'So good baby. So good, just for me. Castiel, look at me. I said look at me Castiel'
"Castiel!" He is shaking, his fists pressed into his eyes, because now his cocoon is rotting, now it makes him feel sour and used. Dean. Dean. The stars, the galaxies, the light, what had it all been? What was Dean? An anguished yowl falls from his lips. Forever he is his father's. Never to be unbound. Never to be released. Never.
Suddenly hands are grabbing his shoulders trying to bring him back to reality, Castiel cries because they just feel so right. Why do they feel right?" Castiel, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have. I just thought it's what you wanted. Please don't cry. Please" Dean is pleading with him, Castiel hears fear in his voice, fear and remorse, he's never heard that from anyone. He opens his teary, azure eyes and looks up to Dean, he looks so apologetic and guilty. But. So had his father, those first times it'd all happened. Castiel worries his bottom lip, turning his head away. It doesn't matter if Dean's hands feel right.
"Please Dean. Don't touch me."
'Castiel. You can tell me if somethings happening okay? No one will be mad at you, we just want you safe' Michael looked really concerned and Castiel found himself saddened, Michael shouldn't look so sad. The littlest Novak shook his head, his father was only doing what he could to make Castiel better. Castiel was sick. Sick on the inside. And only his father knew how to help him. Michael looked like he didn't believe Castiel, like he's lying. 'Cassie. I need you to tell me. Is father...' he seemed to have a hard time talking or rather, getting the right word out, 'is he touching you? In private...areas?' Castiel furrowed his eyebrows, because his father had told him specifically to never talk about things they did, but before he can open his mouth his father stomped over and pulled Castiel up by his little arm, marching him away from Michael like he is some stranger. 'Castiel James Novak what did I say about leaving the room when I'm not here it is-' Michael cut him off, standing, nearly taller than father, looking like he wanted to come in between them. 'Dad. Don't yell at him, I brought him out. None of us get to see him, you keep him locked up in that room it isn't healthy' he glared hard and it scared Castiel, for him to threaten their authority like that. Their father was angry, Castiel could tell by his shaking arm that still clutched on his own, Castiel found himself wanting to cower away, his father could become quite unforgiving when angry. 'Michael. I know what's best for my child. He's sick and it's dangerous for him to be out in the open with all you and your germs. Do you want your little brother to die? Because he will if you keep disobeying and letting him run around.' Castiel's eyes widened in fear, trying to tug his father toward their room, he didn't want to die! 'Do you even feed him? Look at him he's too small, I don't understand what exactly your plan is here. No doctors? No Hospita-' Castiel cried out as his father backhanded Michael, straight across the face, blood trickled down his lip ominously. Michael was stunned, holding his face and narrowing his eyes as father spoke, 'Shut your mouth boy. I do what's right for him. So you, mind your own business' he turned on his heel, pulling Castiel along. Castiel felt tears fall down his face because he hated when his father was angry and rough with him. It left him hurting for days. Castiel was flung on the bed, he scampered back, chewing on his shirt collar in apprehension before he decided to speak up, 'daddy?' his voice was impossibly small but it made his father stop and look toward him, a sick crawl of a smile spread his lips, 'take your clothes off Castiel. Quickly' Castiel knew not to disobey, stripped as fast as he could and threw them aside, hugging his knobby knees to his chest, waiting. His father was in the bathroom, rustling around with something, walking out with a small tube in his hand. 'Now I have to inspect you, since you decided it would be such a good idea going out with Michael and contaminating yourself' he spit his words out like venom, leaving Castiel to tremble with shame, 'I'm sorry daddy...please...d-don't be mad at me' he hiccupped. His father couldn't be mad at him, he was all he had. 'You're just going to have to be extra good today and let daddy inspect you thoroughly, understand?' he asked in a challenging way, Castiel nodded hard, happy for a way to make his father proud of him, 'I will be go-good! I promise!' his father looked pleased, reached over to the bed and pulled Castiel's knees down, 'Now I need you to come over here and lay on my lap, on your tummy' he sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Castiel to scramble on his lap, laying across his legs, pressing his face into the sheets. His father shifted to set the tube down a moment, sighing dramatically, 'I wish I didn't have to do this. But I have to make sure you didn't catch anything else.' This made Castiel squeak in fear, what could he possibly be doing? He felt hands rub his back soothingly as more instructions are spoken to him, 'now bring your knees up' he did as he was told when he saw the angry glint in his father's eyes, holding himself up across his father's lap, his bottom raised and head pushed further into the sheets.
Castiel felt fear burn deep in his throat as hands trailed down and caressed his bottom, the other hand pawed through his sweaty hair before both being removed altogether, the sound of uncapping filling the room. His father squirted the substance on his fingers, rubbing it a bit and then hesitantly held them over Castiel's bottom, then slowly coming down to slick it up as well, Castiel felt the cool, wetness drug from his perineum and up to his sensitive hole, yelping out and bucking his hips to get away from the wrong sensation, but his father held him in place, his a hand on the back of his neck tight, 'Now. Castiel. What the fuck did I say? Do. Not. Move' his voice was laced with anger and Castiel felt a sob rip from his throat as he nodded obediently, biting his lip as the fingers started again, swiping around and coating him. He began to get used to the feeling before the tip of a finger tried to dip past the muscle, his body quickly igniting with fear, no, no, no. He picked his head up and looked around frightfully, 'Daddy please, don't, I-I don't want-' he's hushed by his father squeezing his neck painfully, 'Shush Castiel. I am making sure you're healthy. So shut up'. He was angry at Michael. He was angry and taking it out on Castiel. That's what his father did, projected his emotions onto the boy. He doesn't hesitate any longer, worming his finger in to the knuckle, not stilling at the cries. He moved around immediately, slicking up within him, free hand pet Castiel's quivering spine and stilled his bucking hips. Just when Castiel thought he could not take anymore another finger was added, searing, burning pain shot up his spine and he cried out, begging. 'Hurt...dad...please' but he was unrelenting, pushing the two fingers deeper, scissoring them around, inspecting. 'Do you want something inside of you, killing you?' he asked angrily, looking to Castiel with stilled fingers, 'No!' he shook his head, tears flew off his face. 'Then let me do this' he didn't wait for a nod, just began moving his fingers up and down again, pressing at muscles and tight heat. Castiel felt his legs shaking hard, wanting to collapse in his father's lap, but a hand came underneath and held his stomach up. 'There might be something angel. I have to add another finger' he said in a wavering voice, not listening to Castiel's shout of anguish. The third finger split Castiel open, or so it felt. Pain thrummed throughout his body, heightening as fingers fucked up and down inside of him. They got faster and angrier, punishing almost, making Castiel choke and bite his tongue hard, until they pushed into a strange coil of heat and he moaned out loud. It wasn't like the pain, but rather a strange sensation he felt he might want more of, but as the thought struck he quickly shook his head, eyes widening in horror. How could he want this? It felt like forever till the fingers slowed to barely moving and prodding around, until Castiel whimpered out, his body too exhausted to do anything else, as they are expelled, his hole closing around nothing. 'Castiel' his father's voice was what brought him to, full of an emotion Castiel couldn't decipher. What had he found inside his bottom? 'Daddy...?' he asked after a moment of silence, to which his father pressed small kisses to his lower back, rubbing his sore bottom. 'There's something inside of you Castiel' he stated matter of fact, waiting for Castiel to sob out, he didn't want to do this anymore, he wanted it all to be over. 'Don't worry baby, daddy will make it all better.'
Thanks for reading! Song used: Beautiful Remains by Black Veil Brides (The namesake). Part two of the sleepover coming soon! Let me know what you think! Destiel is coming, and Dean will have a larger part! Let me know what you think!