Chapter One
Dean flung open the front door to his house, dumping his bag on the floor and kicking off his shoes.
'Hey, Dean, how was school?' his mom called from the kitchen.
'It was fine,' he called back, hurrying across the living room and up the stairs. He bumped into Sam on the landing and put him in a headlock. 'How's it goin', baby bro?' he laughed, mussing Sam's hair.
'Get off me, you're such a dork,' Sam said, shoving Dean off.
Dean laughed and continued to his own room at the end of the hall. He stretched and lay down on his bed for a much needed rest after his long day at school. It was then that he saw the newly made bed on the other side of the room. Dread filled the pit of his stomach.
'Mom?' he called, getting back up and leaning over the banister of the stairs. 'Mom, tell me this isn't what I think it is.'
Mary's head appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her expression sheepish. 'Well…'
'You promised we wouldn't do any more fostering since that last psycho tried to bite me,' Dean complained.
'It's an emergency, Dean,' said Mary.
'Why can't he share with Sam?' Dean groaned.
'He's your age, Dean, I thought it would be nice.'
'Oh really? You thought it would be nice? You know how much I love having weirdos watch me in my own room. Put him in with Sam.'
'Shut up, Dean,' Sam yelled from his room.
'You shut up,' Dean shot back.
'Grow up, Dean, or I'll put you in with Sam, and he can have your room all to himself.'
'Dad,' Dean called.
'Listen to your mother,' John called back from the kitchen.
Dean groaned loudly.
'You're a senior now, act your age, or I really will put you in with Sam,' said Mary. 'Now both of you get down here, I need your help with dinner.'
Dean stomped down the stairs, Sam close behind him, and followed Mary into the kitchen. He saw the yet to be cooked pie sitting on the kitchen counter.
'This is clear bribery and I don't appreciate it,' Dean said to Mary.
'Yes you do. You're easily bribed,' Mary said, patting his shoulder. 'Set the table for me.'
Dean grabbed the cutlery out from the drawer and walked over to the dining room table, where John was sitting with a newspaper.
'Hey, Deano,' he said. 'How was school?'
'It was fine, Dad,' Dean said, rolling his eyes and setting the table around him. 'Same as every day.'
Mary put the pie in the oven when Dean returned for plates.
'When's this guy getting here?' Dean asked her, stacking plates in his arms.
'He's coming down from Colby, so might be tonight, or tomorrow morning if they end up at a motel.'
'Great. That's my weekend ruined.' Dean set the plates down.
'It's not that bad,' said Mary, pulling the casserole out of the oven.
'It's not you that has to share your room with strangers,' Dean grumbled, sitting at the table and waiting for Mary to set down the food.
'John, put the paper away,' Mary said, sitting down herself.
John reluctantly folded the paper, and helped himself to a serving spoon of casserole.
'This kid seems all right. He keeps to himself, he studies a lot. The social worker says he's kinda shy, so I don't think he'll bother you.'
'The social worker said that?' Dean said sceptically. ''Cause last time they conveniently left out the part where the guy is prone to randomly taking a bite out of you.'
Mary rolled her eyes. 'Look, Dean, he has no place else to go. It's only for the school year. You know I wouldn't do this to you unless it was really urgent.'
'It's good practice for when you're in college,' John said through a mouthful of food.
'I've had plenty of practice, thanks.'
'Don't talk with your mouth full,' Mary scolded.
Dean sighed. 'Fine, not that I have any choice.'
'Aw, that's my Deano,' Mary said, hugging him with one arm.
'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' Dean said, pushing her off. 'What's the big emergency, anyway? His last place beat him up, or something?'
'That's not funny to joke about,' Mary said sharply.
'Yeah, don't be an asshole, Dean,' said Sam.
Outraged noises came from all around the table.
'Watch your language!' John said.
'I don't know where he gets that,' said Mary.
'Not from me, that's for sure,' Dean scoffed.
'You all suck,' Sam said moodily.
They finished dinner together, and Dean got the biggest slice of pie for dessert, then everyone filtered out of the kitchen while John washed the dishes.
'Oh where are you guys going, don't you want to watch a movie with me?' Mary said as Sam and Dean both started climbing the stairs.
'No I got a D&D session with the guys,' said Sam, hurrying up to his room.
'Nerd,' Dean called after him. 'Sorry, Mom, I'm gonna go enjoy my last night in my room by myself,' he said, grabbing his bag.
'I don't wanna know, thanks, Dean.'
'Not like that,' Dean said, rolling his eyes. 'Although…'
Mary tutted and snapped the cloth she was holding at him. 'Get outta here. Don't forget your homework.'
Dean laughed and ran back up the stairs.
Hours of homework later, Dean curled up in bed, throwing one last resentful glare at the bed across the room before he fell asleep.
Dean woke blearily the next morning, rubbing his eyes as he dragged himself to the bathroom to brush his teeth and gulp down his medication. Numbers still bounced around his head from his algebra homework the night before. He shuffled downstairs to the kitchen and sleepily filled a bowl with cereal. Yawning widely, he opened the fridge and poured in milk. When he closed the door, a boy wearing a red hoodie was standing right next to it, absorbed in his phone.
'Jesus!' Dean yelped, dropping his cereal on the floor where it smashed to pieces.
'Not quite,' said the boy without looking up. His voice was deep, but slightly hoarse.
Dean sighed, staring down at his ruined cereal. 'Good start,' he muttered. 'Well, I'm Dean.'
'I know. I've met Sam already.'
Dean stared at him, but he still didn't look up from his phone. 'Right. And you are…?'
'Castiel.'
'Castiel?'
The boy finally looked up at him with cold blue eyes, and a quirked eyebrow that said "I dare you to make fun of my name". His cheek was bruised and his lip was split and swollen, and Dean regretted the comment he'd made at dinner the night before.
'Welcome to Hotel Winchester, I guess,' he said. 'Come on, I'll show you to your room.'
Dean gingerly stepped over the cereal and led the way upstairs. 'This is my bed. That's yours. Make yourself at home.'
'Thank you,' Castiel said politely, placing his bag down neatly and sitting on the edge of the bed.
'Well…' Dean rubbed his neck awkwardly, but was saved having to make conversation by a shout from downstairs.
'Dean Winchester, get down here and clean up this mess right now!' Mary yelled.
Dean grimaced. 'I should go.'
'You should.'
'I - all right then. See you around?'
'I imagine you will.'
Slightly perturbed, Dean hurried back downstairs to clean up his cereal.
'Hey, Mom, what did they tell you about him?' Dean asked, as he carefully swept up the shards of his bowl.
'What do you mean?'
'I already told you, just that he keeps to himself mostly,' Mary shrugged.
'Yeah, but why's he in foster care? What happened to his face?'
'I can't tell you that, Dean, you know the drill. If he wants to tell you, he'll tell you.'
Dean sighed and finished mopping up the milk and now-soggy cereal.
'Do you want some pancakes?' Mary said sympathetically.
Dean nodded. 'Yeah, thanks, Mom.'
'What's on the agenda today, then?' Mary asked, pulling down a bowl and a frying pan from the kitchen cabinets.
'Not much. Thought I'd just hang out today. I can't look at any more algebra, I might go blind.'
Mary put down the utensils and pulled Dean into a tight hug. 'I know how hard you're working, and I'm proud of you.'
'Moooom,' Dean complained, but hugging her back.
'I'm allowed to gush about my boys.' She let go and went back to making pancakes.
'You're my favourite. Don't tell Dad,' Dean grinned, grabbing the flour down from the shelf she couldn't reach.
'Go call your brother down,' said Mary.
Dean stood at the foot of the stairs and yelled, 'Sam, pancakes!'
Sam thundered down the stairs, past Dean.
Dean turned back towards the kitchen, but hesitated. 'Hey, Castiel, do you want some pancakes?' he called.
'No, thank you,' came the faint reply.
Dean shrugged and went to sit down at the table.
'What do you think of him?' Dean asked Sam.
Sam shrugged, already devouring a pancake. 'Doesn't really say much.'
'He just isn't settled yet,' Mary said, setting a plate down in front of Dean. 'I'm sure he'll open up soon enough.'
'And if he doesn't?'
'That's up to him,' Mary said firmly.
They didn't see Castiel until lunch that day. Mary had made several plates of sandwiches, Sam had brought his laptop down to the table, and Dean milled around, avoiding going into his room.
'Castiel, do you want anything to eat?' Mary called up the stairs.
Quiet footsteps reached their ears, and Castiel appeared in the kitchen.
'I made sandwiches,' Mary said brightly.
'Thank you,' said Castiel. He stepped over to the table, and Dean noticed that Castiel was almost as tall as he was.
'Hey, Castiel, do you read much?' Sam asked, staring at his laptop.
'Yes,' Castiel said, looking mildly surprised that Sam had bothered to speak to him so soon.
'I've got a list I wanna read but I can't decide which one to read next, what do you think?' Sam turned his screen so Castiel could see it.
Castiel hesitated, then grabbed a sandwich and sat down next to Sam.
'So I was thinking this A Game of Thrones looks pretty cool,' Sam said.
Castiel shook his head. 'You're not old enough to read that. I think you might like something more like… The Eye of the World. I read those once. If you're looking for a full series, it's the way to go.'
'Awesome. Thanks,' Sam grinned, picking up his laptop and moving into the living room.
'You're welcome.'
Mary smiled at Castiel. 'Oh, honey, that looks like it smarts,' she said, looking at Castiel's still swollen lip. 'Do you want some ice?' She didn't wait for an answer, getting up and filling a glass with ice. She dumped it out on a towel, wrapped it up, and went to press it to Castiel's face, but he flinched away from her. 'Oh, here, do you wanna do it?' She put it down on the table in front of him.
'Thank you,' he mumbled, holding the towel to his face.
'You never get me any ice,' Dean said indignantly.
'Getting into fights is your own fault,' Mary said in amusement.
'Mom, I already told you, I didn't get into a fight. That ass-'
'Dean.'
'That douche Ketch was throwing Kevin around, all I did was tell him to stop and he came at me. Am I not supposed to defend myself?'
Mary just rolled her eyes, then looked at Castiel again. 'Let me get you some Tylenol,' she said, going to dig through the cabinets.
Dean glanced at Castiel, who had stopped eating and was shrinking down in his seat. Dean got up and stood between Mary and Castiel.
'Hey, Mom, do we have any more whipped cream? I wanna put it on what's left of the pie,' he said loudly, and, just as he thought, Castiel took the opportunity to dart from the room, leaving the towel on the table.
Mary put down the medicine, watching him go. 'Too much?' she asked.
'Just a little,' said Dean. 'He seems like he likes his space.'
'Maybe you're right. I'll try not to crowd him.'
Dean nodded. 'I'll go check on him.'
He climbed the stairs and stopped outside his closed bedroom door. He knocked gently, then poked his head around the door.
Castiel was sitting as far into the corner as he could, the hood of his jacket shadowing his face, his legs crossed, and clutching his phone tightly.
'You don't have to knock, it's your room,' he mumbled.
Dean shrugged. 'I just came to see if you're okay.'
'I'll be fine,' Castiel said, his voice catching slightly. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket.
'I'm sorry about my mom, she can be a bit much sometimes.'
Castiel shook his head. 'She's kind,' he said.
'You don't have to do that,' said Dean. 'This is not our first rodeo, we know it's hard. It's okay to walk away if one of us does something you can't handle. We get it.'
'I appreciate that.'
'Cool. I'll leave you to it. Bathroom's next door, by the way, if you need it, and Sam's down the hall.'
Dean closed the door behind him and went back downstairs.
'How is he?' Mary asked in concern.
'I think he's just a little raw,' Dean said, pulling the leftover pie out of the fridge.
'You know, sometimes I think you're better at this than I am,' Mary said, kissing Dean on the cheek.
'Like I said, you're not the one that has to share a room with them.'
That night, Dean took a tray of food up to his room for Castiel.
'Hey, dinner,' he said, opening the door with his foot.
Castiel had begun unpacking, neatly lining up his books on the shelf above the bed. A laptop of his own sat at the end of the bed, and Dean found him hanging his clothes in the empty wardrobe.
Castiel looked at Dean in surprise.
'I thought it would be good to eat on your own tonight,' Dean told him, putting the tray down on the bed. 'Just so you can settle in and not have to deal with Dad and Sam and everybody. Even I find it overwhelming sometimes.'
Castiel didn't say anything, just staring at Dean.
'Anyway, we all eat dinner together as a family. Don't feel pressured to join in, or anything, but we'll all be downstairs if you need anything.'
Dean left him to it, and gave him a warm smile when he brought the tray down. He didn't return it, but he nodded cordially at Dean on his way past.
Dean stayed up late with Mary, watching bad horror movies, waiting until he thought Castiel might be asleep before slowly going up to his room.
He crept inside, switching on the dim lamp he kept on his bedside table. Castiel had indeed fallen asleep with his laptop still on, and cuddling something beige close to his chest. He cracked an eye open when the light switched on.
'Sorry,' Dean whispered, grabbing his pajamas. 'Go back to sleep.'
Dean hurriedly brushed his teeth and threw on his pajamas in the bathroom, then climbed into bed and switched off the light.
He was sinking into sleep when he heard Castiel's voice from across the room.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered, 'for taking up your room.'
'Don't be,' Dean whispered back. 'It's not your fault. You just go where they tell you to, right?'
'Right. Goodnight, Dean.'
''Night.'
Dean rolled over, so the blue glare from Castiel's laptop wouldn't disturb him, and fell asleep to the sound of quiet tapping.
Hello everyone! A couple of notes as we get started. First of all, I'm from the UK, so everything I know about US high schools I learned from movies. Realism isn't really the point of this story, so if it comes across a bit movie-like, that's why. Also, I straight up just don't like John Winchester, so he'll only be around to say generic Dad™ stuff.
I hope you like this first chapter, and I'll see you again next time :)
