A/N: Hello friends. First of all, I am extremely sorry for such a late update, like I said I had lost so much confidence in this and I also started university, so most of my time is dedicated to med school. PLUS, I was admitted to the hospital for a couple days but I'm okay. To those of you who are confused, I promise questions will start being answered, and the things that seem not to hold importance will soon be regarded. SO other than that thanks for reading/waiting/reviewing. Love you guys.

I DON'T RECOMMEND READING ON MOBILE AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY ON ITALICS. ALSO MOVING FROM AO3 SO FORMATTING MAY BE WONKY

This chapter has some fluff in it because it's about to get pretty angsty afterwards. Sorry but not really. As always ITALICS contain GRAPHIC child abuse at times. Be advised. No Beta so mistakes are made. Please go easy, this chapter was hard to write from the hospital.

'You are growing up so much Castiel, it makes me so sad' his father commented, running his hand through the raven hair of the boy sitting in the bathtub. Castiel drew his knees up, wrapped his arms around them and laid his head to the side of the tub; he'd never felt so sick in his entire life, surely he was getting worse. 'Dad…why am I still so sick?" he asked, but he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. His father had said he would make him better, but he wasn't; deep inside a whisper of a voice accused his father, told him it was his fault that he constantly felt like this. All the 'pills' he'd been taking that were supposed to help him only made him more nauseous, 'I know baby boy, but I promise, you will feel better soon' he smiled, but the gesture doesn't make Castiel feel better, no, it made him feel icky inside, made his skin crawl, the feeling scared him. His father had never gave him these kinds of emotions, he wasn't supposed to feel this way about the man who loved him so much. But he couldn't help but have doubts. To have suspicions. He may have only been thirteen, but he prided himself on his studies, despite being home schooled, he was very well educated and he knew, in the back of his mind, something was off. But he pushed that aside and let his father bathe him, feeling the way fingers flexed their way through his hair, soaping it up and massaging, it felt good. He secretly liked times like these, when he didn't have to perform anything, just felt loved and reveled in innocent affection that was merely a hand through his hair or a washcloth scrubbing his arms, but he knew it wouldn't last, that his father would want to play soon. After his father was done washing his body totally clean he handed Castiel a little razor, smiling down at the boy who looked up at him curiously, 'Dad?' The older man picked up some shaving cream too, squeezing a little on his hand, 'You're getting older Castiel, that means you'll start growing hair in places, but I don't like when you have hair, I still want you to be my little boy, so I want you to shave' he instructed, helped him out of the bath and wrapped him in a towel. Castiel had never shaved before, he wasn't sure what to do; he hadn't even realized it before, but now he could see, just barely, little hairs growing on his face, it was intriguing. But just as soon as he inspected them his father was spreading cream on it, taking the stick from his hand and putting it to his face, dragging it down, gently taking the hair off. Castiel stood completely still, feeling the blade touch his flesh and not wanting to get cut, his throat sliced open or something. When his father finished he patted Castiel's face dry and smiled, caressed his face a moment and moved down, holding his neck, reaching down and kissing him, 'You're so beautiful baby. My little boy' he praised and moved his hands down further, wrapping around Castiel's cock, which doesn't surprise him like it used to. He fondled him a bit, moving his tongue around in the young boys mouth before stopping a moment, leaving Castiel worried he'd done something wrong, 'What dad-' his father stopped him by kneeling down and inspecting his genitals, making a disapproving noise. 'I need to shave you down here too, I don't like when you have hair down here Castiel, it's gross, next time I will expect you to do it. Do you understand?' he said it angrily and Castiel nodded in agreement, not understanding his distaste of something that he'd just told him was normal. He was lathered with shaving cream again and carefully shaved, he was more worried this time, he really didn't want to get cut down there with how much his father insisted on touching him. Castiel stood obediently, thinking about anything but what was happening, reaching into the back of his head and remembering the time he'd snuck downstairs and was allowed to play chess with Michael. It was fun. He had enjoyed it up until Michael had started asking him strange questions like, what he and father did when they were going to bed or if father ever said things to him that made him uncomfortable, albeit, he'd never been able to answer before he was found and marched up to their room. He was pulled from his trance when his father finished, he dropped the stick in the trash and dried him. 'There we go' he seemed pleased with himself, like he'd just dressed a doll to his liking, a thought which Castiel quickly pushed from his mind, too afraid at how true the statement was. How he was malleable and pliant, moved and submitted whichever way his father expected; he was an obedient child, too afraid of the repercussion if he didn't. His father owned him and, Castiel thought miserably as his father picked out a toy for him, he always would.

Castiel's head buzzed, muddled and disoriented. He vaguely remembers the breakdown he'd had hours ago, the last tangible remnant of it was felt in the dizzying pain of vomit sloshing in his stomach.

To make things worse he had actually wet the bed, something he had stopped doing when he was thirteen and learned how to control his night terrors. He felt embarrassed and childish; not only had he wet the freaking bed, but he had done it with Dean freaking Winchester in the room. Smooth. Real smooth.

He bunched up the soiled sheets and threw them in the closet, intent on cleaning them later when no one could question it or see; that's all he needed, his brothers having another reason to hover over him. He works quickly and quietly, feeling his stomach slowly settling in the calmness.

But, all too suddenly, the silence is broken by a noise causing him to fling around, relaxing only after he sees it's just Dean, to which he hurriedly tries to block the view to the closet.

"Hey Cas, can I ask you something?"

Oh. God. No. He wanted to scream. No, that was never a good way to start a conversation; it usually meant he would have to talk about himself, or something he'd done wrong.

"Uh...sure?" It was a question essentially. Did he want to know? Dean furrowed his brows, pursing his lips, his silence a strong indicator that he was more conflicted than Castiel felt, which made dread further fill the youngest Novak, whatever it is, it's making Dean Winchester worried…

"Have you…" Dean stops, opens his mouth then closes it, "Would you…" Another fishlike gape, "Did you…" Castiel feels immensely confused, walking a little closer to the poor boy, "Dean?" He mutters low, questioning.

"Are you… free next Friday? Would you like to go out with me?" Castiel lets out a whoosh of air when he hears no mention of 'father' or 'urinating' and wait a minute…

Did Dean Winchester just ask me on a date? His mind steadily supplies.

And all too suddenly Castiel feels the air escape him completely, peeking apprehensively into the vibrant greens in front of him, "Uh-uh" He has never been on a date. He has never even been with other people up until school. "Yes?" He squints and looks at Dean, unsure. The answer seems to be the right one because Dean smiles brightly, a smile that sent thrums of static coursing through Castiel's body, prickling at his nerves and igniting his skin with flush; a smile that causes Castiel's own lips to quirk up in a small one.

"Awesome" Dean nods, but it looks as though something is still bothering the boy, like perhaps that's not what he had wanted to ask him. But Castiel has no time to worry about that because his head is immediately swarming with questions about their… date. Where would they go? What would they do? What was customary? Would they be going as friends or something… more? Impossible. Castiel shook his head to get those stupid ideas out, he knows no one would ever want someone as used and defiled as him. Anyway, who was he to give himself to someone? For he did not own himself. No. His father made sure of that, even in eternal absence.

"I'll pick you up around 7, we can catch some dinner. I know an awesome place, you'll love it"

Castiel nods without really agreeing. He has never been out to eat, he's rarely even been out in public; not only that, but it will also be without his brothers protection. Dean leaves the room before Castiel can change his mind, giving him no other choice but to just go. Perhaps he would like it. He likes Dean. He likes being around Dean, more than he's ever liked being around anyone.

But Dean made him feel differently now, when Castiel thought of him he thought of the kiss and then he thought about his father; even he knew that wasn't normal. Yet, on the other hand, the idea of spending the day with Dean made his insides ignite with excitement, it is something he wants to do, he thinks. Even though Dean isn't what he thought he was in the beginning Dean is still, well, Dean, and he made Castiel feel things he'd never felt before. So, why not go?

He nods his head. He will go.

-x-

Thursday.

One more day before Castiel's date with Dean; he had done tons of research, reading up on the internet about how to act, what to talk about and what was appropriate, albeit he still felt extremely nervous that he would screw it up. He had a tendency to do that; take something simple, overcomplicate it, and, in turn, make everyone around him uncomfortable. He would need real world advice, which would mean he would have to talk to Gabriel, who frequently dated. Building the courage to go and talk to him was another story, he sat on his bed staring at the wall, willing himself to get up, standing and then sitting again quickly.

Perhaps he shouldn't go on the date. Why would anyone want to go anywhere with him? Besides that, he's never been out in public like that, what if he has a panic attack? Or someone tries to hurt him? What if he gets sick again? He shakes his head violently, trying to release the thoughts beating against his skull, they're starting to sound like his father.

'It's too dangerous to go out there Castiel. People want to hurt you'

No. No! He would go on this date. He was asked for a reason, whatever it was, Dean wanted to go out with him and that was enough. "I will go" he whispers to himself or, rather, the voice in his head, "I am not sick. I will be safe." Now all he had to do is talk to Gabriel, ask about the essentials and he would be okay. He will be okay. He nods and exits the room, just letting his feet take him, finding all of his brothers in the kitchen, for a moment he just stands behind the frame, watching them as per usual, feeling like a child again. Watching his father pour a glass of whiskey. Watching Michael do his homework. Watching the room until it morphed into something unrecognizable. "Cassie? You okay?" Castiel blinks away his fog and turns toward a confused looking Gabriel. Now or never, he thinks.

"Gabriel, when going on a date, what is the proper etiquette?" he asks quickly, sliding into a seat at the table, anxiously watching as Lucifer freezes from writing and Michael turns around from the stove. Gabriel raises a brow in surprise, looking Castiel up and down to see if it may be an attempt at dry humor. It's not. "Why?" Gabriel smiles a tad to hide his brimming fear; either Castiel has actually been asked on a date or he's having a very strange breakdown right in front of them.

"I-" Castiel gazes to all of his brothers, who are now focused intently on him, it makes him nervous. "I may...have a date?" Another mind crushing silence before Lucifer pipes up, "What are you talking about Castiel? With who? Are you sure they weren't just…" He scratches the back of his neck, not sure how to explain it, worried that someone has asked him out as a joke and he's taking it seriously.

"Dean Winchester asked me." For some reason Castiel feels defensive about their doubts; it makes him feel inadequate, like perhaps they think such a thing could never happen to poor, sad Castiel.

Lucifer groans loudly, putting a hand over his face while Michael shakes his head and turns to Gabriel, "Really Gabe? Can that kid seriously leave it in his pants? Targeting people who don't know any better-" Castiel has barely ever raised his voice to his brothers, so him shouting comes as a shock to all of them, "I'm not stupid!" He sees their surprise and suddenly feels bad about yelling, looking down at the floor, "Don't say I don't know any better. I am not an invalid and- and I'm old enough to go out with a... friend."

Silence is heavy for a moment before Michael speaks up, "You're right- look you're right Castiel. You're perfectly capable of making your own decisions and if you want to go out on a date with… Dean… then you have my permission," he looks like he wants to say something else, but probably thought better of it. Castiel jumps when Gabriel claps his hand on his back, "Come, I'll teach you a thing or two" he has this sly smile, shooting a glance at Michael and Lucifer, leading Castiel back to his room. Castiel has a feeling is isn't going to like what he hears.

-x-

'Stupid little Castiel. Do you really think someone would ever want you?'

"No."

'I told you. I told you, no one will ever understand you'

"I know."

'No one will ever make you feel like I did'

"Please don't-"

"Castiel? Who are you talking to?" Lucifer walks in, looking at the boy in trepidation, moving slowly, loathe to scare him. It takes him a moment to come back, the voice in his head dispersing and letting him focus finally. "Luce?" Castiel sits up from his lying position, peering over at his brother. "Are you feeling okay Castiel? It's okay if you don't feel good. If you wanted I could call Dean and tell him you don't feel well enough to-" but Castiel shakes his head, he has to do this. He has to prove to himself that he can do this; that he can survive without his brothers, that he can do things on his own free will, that his father could no longer dictate his story.

"Okay. I just, I worry." Lucifer informs, sitting down next to him on the bed and smiling, it's a sad smile. "Don't be sad Lucifer. Please. I'm sorry," Castiel desperately pleads, he hates seeing his brothers sad because of him. He's caused them enough grief. Lucifer takes his hand, waiting a moment, making sure it's okay to touch before squeezing reassuringly, "Hey-hey now, no need to apologize. I'm not sad. It's okay to want to do things Castiel, yo-you deserve that." Lucifer smiles down at his little brother, giving him a hug before informing him of the time and leaving him to get ready.

It takes Castiel a couple tries, but he finally finds an acceptable outfit: a dark blue shirt, it's a bit casual but could pass as a slight dress shirt, paired with a nice pair of black jeans. Gabriel told him not to wear a tuxedo because Dean never usually did those kind of dates and it would make him look too desperate. Albeit Castiel wasn't sure what he would be looking desperate for.

The clock reads seven so he hurries downstairs and waits for the sound of the Impala, nervously digging his fingernails into his palm and nibbling on the inside of his cheek. What if something went wrong? What if Dean realized how irrevocably broken he is? What if-

"He's here Cassie!" Gabriel gushes, smoothing down Castiel's hair and pushing him toward the door, "Remember what I said okay? Be mysterious but also show him that you're open. Don't seem easy though, and if he invites you back to his house or his Impala early say no. Got it?" He doesn't wait for a nod, just opens the door before Dean even knocks, smiling at him before pushing Castiel forward, "Evening Dean, just remember to have him back before eleven and-" Gabriel stops a moment, a frown forming on his face, Castiel thinks he might want to say something about not doing anything inappropriate but, as usual, is too afraid to mention anything like that around Castiel. "Just… play nice." Dean shakes his head with a smile, "Shut up Gabriel, c'mon Castiel, I'm starving" he smiles and waits until Castiel follows, holding the car door open for him and quickly moving them on their way. There's a thick silence in the car but Castiel's head is louder than ever before.

-x-

Castiel walks close to Dean as they enter the diner, observing all of the people, there were more than he had expected. Families, couples and loners, all sitting around and chatting amiably. Castiel knows he should feel comfortable, that these humans would never hurt him, but his father's voice ricochets through his head, warning him because maybe he was right.

'Those people out there, they want to hurt you. The only place you're safe is here, here with me.'

"Cas" Dean smiles, nudging his shoulder a tad and pointing to their table, which is, unfortunately, right next to a rather large party of people. Castiel forces a smile, remembering what the internet had said 'make sure to smile, show interest' sitting down in the seat that Dean pulls out and watching him take his own. "Thank you Dean. This place is…" he really does try to hide the grimace, "Lovely."

But, he wonders vaguely, could it really be lovely if he had nothing to compare it to? Would that be a fair assessment? Castiel was about to panic about having unfair judgements, but is pulled from his head by Dean saying his name slightly louder, "Cas!" He looks up quickly, there's a waitress standing before them, looking at him curiously, "Yes. Oh. Sorry" he shakes his head, peering over at Dean for explanation, "What would you like to drink?" Dean's voice is smooth, he doesn't sound distraught like his brothers usually do when they find Castiel recessing in his head, he merely sounds as if he's trying to gently pull him from his reverie.

"Tea. Thanks. Sorry" He curses within himself; he can't even form a proper sentence! The lady jots their orders down and saunters away, Castiel nervously rubs his knuckles with his thumb, looking toward the rowdy table next to them for a moment.

"You do that a lot huh?" Dean asks, leaning on his arm. Castiel thinks for a moment, looking at him with a cocked head, "Do…?" He feels his face creep red because now they have to talk about themselves.

"Zone out, take a bit of a vacation up here," he taps his own head for effect, Castiel looks down ashamedly, "I-I try not to but… sometimes it makes things easier" He confesses, and it's the truth. When he can crawl up into the blackness of his head he can feel numb for a little while, he can feel safe, enclosed. His head understood him.

'Get out of your head Castiel, open your damn eyes and look at me.'

Stop. Stop. He mentally coaxes himself, he needs to stop, he needs to focus on Dean, Dean that held the light Castiel had never seen before. But thinking about Dean too hard and he was back to the kiss, it made him feel sick inside. He has to try though, he has to try and see what he had seen in Dean before. Dean was good. Dean is good.

"...And that's why I love this diner so much." Fuck. Castiel had totally been ignoring him, but he decides to just smile and nod.

Their order is ushered out to them before Dean can ask any more damning questions, allowing Castiel to just listen to stories about him and his brother Sam; he enjoys it. Likes to listen to Dean talk about his brother because his smile becomes wide and infectious, because he, too, knows the love brothers can hold. He seemingly talks till he doesn't have any stories left.

They eat in silence for a while, Castiel taking small bites, his stomach still doing flip flops in nervousness. The table across from them is becoming increasingly louder and Castiel cringes every time they grow an octave or throw something around. Dean watches him closely, seeing the way his face pales and his eyes dart around nervously, like he's waiting for someone to attack him. "Cas, you don't talk a lot, tell me about yourself" Dean shakes his head, feeling like a sappy idiot for asking such a thing, but he's so desperate to have a conversation and learn something about what makes Castiel the way he is, that he would probably do anything.

Castiel swallows hard, not really registering what he's saying, just watching the table across theirs and flinching every so often. Dean realizes he won't be getting anything out of Castiel in this state so he flags down the waitress.

"Excuse me ma'am, can we get these to go?" Castiel hears this, looking up at Dean bewilderedly, watching as the waitress takes their food and boxes it in little styrofoam cases.

"Dean what are we doing?" Castiel inquires finally, following Dean out the doors, holding on tight to his food. Albeit being confused, he is relieved, being away from the rowdy table and the loud noises, finally able to hear his own thoughts. "You were uncomfortable-" Dean smiles toward him, guiding him to the car. "Dean you didn't have-" but Dean holds up his hand and stops him, "It's okay Cas, I have a better place we can go." Castiel feels his lips twitch, a real smile spreading across his face, a feeling of warmth blooming throughout his chest. Dean left his favorite diner for him. Dean saw that he was uncomfortable and wanted to change that. Dean is good.

They drive in comfortable silence, they didn't have to say anything, just being together was enough for the two. For Castiel at least.

They drive for a while, Castiel watching as the lights whiz past them and soon buildings become scarce until, finally, they're surrounded only by farmland and forest. "I think you're really cool Cas" Dean breaks the silence and Castiel has to process what he said for a moment. Cool. Dean thinks he's cool. Castiel is pretty sure that's a good thing so he just smiles over at him, the sun setting casting an orange glow that contrasted with Dean complexion beautifully.

Dean is beautiful. Dean is full of light. "You're good Dean" Castiel replies and Dean just smiles like he knew whatever was going to come out of Castiel's mouth he wouldn't understand. They smile for a moment, Castiel's eyes linger for a while longer on Dean's emerald one's but, Dean doesn't look unnerved, he looks how Castiel feels. Peaceful. So they continue in the comfortable silence.

A few minutes later they arrive at a narrow dirt road, navigating down until they reach a cleared area and park. Castiel unbuckles and exits quickly, suddenly remembering what Gabriel had said about leaving and becoming a little worried. They are close to the woods, surrounded by tree and brush; secluded. "Hey now," Dean walks over and touches his chin, surprising the boy, "Don't look so nervous. I'm not going to hurt ya" he smiles, but Castiel feels his insides ice over at the words. He knew Dean didn't mean anything by them, but he remembers hearing those same words.

'Stop crying Castiel, I'm not going to hurt you'

It usually did hurt.

He stumbles back a tad, staring at Dean, waiting for him to pounce, but he doesn't, he just stands there looking confused. "I didn't mean to scare you Cas, I'm sorry" He sounds remorseful, Castiel shakes his head; Dean is not his father. He is safe. He is safe.

"I-I am okay" Castiel tries to convince himself, letting Dean guide their way. They weave around the brush for what seems like hours before coming upon a large lake. The water shimmers and glistens with the setting sun; calm, not even a current upsetting it, just small ripples of fish and other creatures. It's beautiful. Castiel looks at the expanse of water in awe.

Dean watches Castiel watch the water with a smile, faltering a bit at what he sees in Castiel's expression, like he's never actually seen a lake before, like it's the most wonderful discovery he's ever had.

What the hell did the Novak's do their whole life? He wonders.

"Cas. Have you… have you ever seen a lake before?" he asks before he even realizes it's spilling from his mouth, sinking back a little just in case Castiel becomes defensive, but the boy just continues to stare, shaking his head 'no'. Now Dean is looking at Castiel in awe, he was an anomaly, truly.

"Man, were you kept inside your whole life?" Dean jokes, trying to break the heaviness of the moment but, instead, Castiel shifts his gaze, broken from his reverie; the expression that crosses his face makes Dean ache and immediately regret saying anything. "Yes. I… I was" Castiel replies in a small voice, looking back up apprehensively. The elder Winchester has millions of questions forming in his head but he doesn't say anything because, if this is how sad he looks mentioning just that he couldn't imagine trying to delve any deeper at the moment. He would have to try later. Right now he needed to cheer Castiel up.

Suddenly he gets an idea, "What about swimming Cas? Have you ever been swimming?" Castiel looks surprised, like he was expecting to get more hard questions, shaking his head and biting his lip, feeling a bit embarrassed for the first time about his lack of experience, "No."

Dean smiles and starts to take off his shirt, "Then I guess I'll have to teach you huh?" He feels a bit of gooseflesh rise on his bare torso, nodding and smiling toward Castiel in encouragement. Castiel, on the other hand, looks scared out of his wits, stepping back when Dean takes his shirt off, "W-what? Here? Is that safe?" He asks, looking at the water and then back to Dean who makes a noise, "Pfft, Cas, who cares if it's safe. We're teenagers, nothing we do is supposed to be safe. It's awesome I swear, I will be here to help you, I promise." Those emeralds are shining with childlike amusement that Castiel finds a tad infectious, he wishes Dean to smile like that more.

"O-okay" Castiel obliges, nodding his head and watching Dean shimmy out of his jeans. He truly is handsome, Castiel inspects: his skin is tan, kissed by the sun with millions of freckles. Muscles are clearly defined and his stomach is tight and strong. Castiel finds his eyes traveling down, toward the bulge in his boxers, feeling a thrum of electricity charge through and crackle his skin, yes, Castiel can definitely say he's attracted to Dean Winchester.

'You're mine Castiel. No one will ever make you feel like I can'

Castiel jumps at the voice that screams, booming loud in his head. A warning. Castiel looks away, down at his crooked fingers to bring himself back to, remind himself of his place. "Your turn Cas," Dean smiles, unknowing and Castiel looks up with wide eyes. He, too, has to take his clothes off? "M-my clothes? Do I have to take them off?" He stammers and Dean chuckles a bit.

"Yeah Cas, unless you want to walk in sopping wet, heavy ass clothes" he laughs and Castiel swallows hard, "O-okay. Yeah. O-okay" his hands refuse to move for a moment, only after a bit of coaxing they slowly reach up and pull his shirt off. He doesn't undress with the haste he used to, no, this time he moves languidly, he is choosing to take his clothes off. This was his choice. Dean wouldn't make him if he said no. Dean would understand if he hadn't wanted to.

His shirt is on top of Dean's now and Castiel inspects his own pale, scrawny torso. His ribcage is still a bit jutted out, the skin waxy and stretched over; he'd been trying to gain weight for a while. For a moment he half expects to see finger bruises on his hips, but there are none, the only remnants of the past are thin, pale scars on his hips, something his brothers had put a stop to very soon.

He takes a moment before he realizes Dean is, too, staring at him and suddenly a feeling flows through him, something that he doesn't think he's ever felt before. Self-consciousness. He doesn't want Dean, Dean who is perfect, looking at him. He isn't beautiful like Dean. He will never be beautiful.

After another brief hesitation he builds enough courage to take his pants off, keeping his arms in front of his boxers to shield himself. Dean takes another moment before he clears his throat and his face shines red, something Castiel doesn't understand, but quickly shoves away when Dean grabs his hand, "C'mon!" He smiles and guides them both toward the lake, stopping at the edge, leaving Castiel to stare down at the water with new found fear. He's never been swimming before, this hits him suddenly, what if he drowns? What if Dean does? He couldn't help him.

"Dean I-" He's scared. He's really scared. But Dean leans in close, his breath on Castiel's neck smelling different than he expects. It's not stale whiskey and tainted words, but rather fresh mint and life. "Do you trust me?"

Castiel freezes a moment. Does he trust Dean? He remembers the touches, the smiles, the cocoon. Everything that made up Dean, it was all extraordinary, space and star dust beaten into flesh and bone. No matter what Dean had done Castiel could still feel, surging from Dean's hand to his, the light inside of him, perhaps not virtue, not purity but life, the feeling of not just existing but truly being alive.

For the first time Castiel's life he does, "Yes Dean. I trust you." Dean breaks into a wide smile and pulls back, grasping Castiel's hand and nods, "One… two… three…" Castiel closes his eyes tight, holds onto Dean's hand tightly.

and they both jump.

His father was gradually getting angrier, every day his anger would grow stronger until it wouldn't matter how accurately Castiel obeyed, he'd still be upset with him, would still leave him with bruises and unable to shake the brutal assault as he usually could. His father was scared, he was scared and worried and, as per usual, he projected it to anger. Michael was constantly interrogating him, asking him questions about Castiel and insinuating he knew that things were happening, although, he knew Michael would never build a case without actual proof, that he would be too afraid to go to the police for they had no mother or family and to break up the family would mean to never see his brothers again; so that wasn't something he decided to dwell on, rather Castiel, how much he was breaking, from the inside out. He seemed to be caving back into himself, back into his mind till he seemed totally vacant when they would do things, like he wasn't even there. Castiel knew how to take himself out of the situation now, if not physically but mentally. Perhaps that was why his father was angry, angry to get a reaction out of the boy. To make him lash out emotionally. It's no fun breaking someone who was already broken. So his father set forth trying to awaken something inside of the boy again. Castiel had been reading 'The Hobbit' when his father entered the room, although he hadn't looked up, so it could have been anyone, but he knew, he could smell the alcohol and dominance that seemed to radiate off his entirety. Not to mention the slosh of a bottle in the older man's hand, which was different, usually he drank downstairs. Castiel shut the book, pulling out his maths homework and trying to show his father, 'Dad look I got the highest sco-' a hand sailed across his cheek, ripping the paper in front of him and knocking him back, confused. Castiel looked up at his father shocked, watching as he pulled a malicious smile across his lips, taking a small swig. Castiel wondered what had changed, his father had used to be so loving, so gentle with his touches, but now it seemed like he couldn't get enough, like he was hungry for every inch of Castiel, like he wanted to ravage him and pick his bones clean. The love was missing and it was purely full of personal gain, his father no longer cared what happened to him when he was brutal. His 'I love you's' and 'you're beautiful' were grunted during blow jobs or beaten into his skin with a fist. 'Get your ass up on that bed Castiel or god so help you' Castiel didn't need another warning before he scrambled on the bed and lied stock still while his father crawled up beside him. He gave the young boy a smile that sent shivers up his spine, 'Look at you baby' his voice was slurred, 'God you're so fucking hot.' Castiel realized how much of an object he was to his father, he wasn't a human, he was a puppet, but he didn't want to think about that so he rolled his head to the side, inviting him to do whatever he wanted, trying to poke back into the darkness of his head, but his father caught on this time, pulling his head back over. 'Oh no no. Not this time' he growled and suddenly is shoving the bottle of whatever he had between Castiel's lips, 'You're lucky Castiel. You're lucky I'm not taking you right here on my own dick, but I am a good father and I am waiting until you are ready. You're lucky to have a father as forgiving as me' he hissed when Castiel spluttered around the bottle as it was shoved further down his throat, giving him no option but to swallow it. It was bitter and it burned like nothing he'd ever tasted before, it was horrible. His father forced him to drink, only stopping whenever he looked like he was going to puke and then forced him to drink again until the bottle was empty. Castiel leaned up and coughed when it was thrown aside, stopping when the room immediately began to spin. It moved quickly, colors blurred and the walls vibrated; his head was a slosh of water. Just like the bottle. He blinked slowly to stop the blurring, but it was no use. His father watched him in amusement; perhaps it wouldn't stop him from totally being in his head but it was good for a change of scenery. 'That'a boy, just like your old man' Castiel couldn't find it in him to even register the words being spoken to him just felt something bubble up in his chest and suddenly he's laughing. He was not sure why but he was, just giggled uncontrollably, interrupted only with a hiccup. His father could work with this, at least it was an emotion other than apathy. Castiel felt his clothes being torn from his body and found no ounce in him to care, nor the fight even if he did. He felt like he couldn't hold his limbs up, held down with the weight of the alcohol. He didn't even feel his father grabbing him, stroking him hard, that sensation didn't go unnoticed though; he writhed up against him, trying to get more friction to relieve the intense pain and pressure that surrounded his groin, no longer thinking about how dirty he'd felt last time his father had made him release. His mind was too hazy, like a fog storm was swallowing his brain up whole, not allowing anything to penetrate it. The only thing he was focused on was what little slivers still could feel, because it was frightening, not being able to feel anything else; even if it was something as grotesque as this, at least he could feel in control, although that slowly melted into his incoherence and drunken state as well, barely feeling something enter him, perhaps it was a toy or fingers, he wasn't sure, just that he felt something down there and he needed to focus on that because that was real, not the sloppy mess in his head. So he moved in sync with object within in, not even thinking about how much he would hate himself in the morning.

I know this chapter is horrible but please remember I was writing this in the hospital and that place seriously puts me in a writing damper. Please take that into consideration. I apologize. Pt II. coming this week