Chapter Text
In Castiel’s nightmares, he remembers the thunder first. It roars in his mind just as loud as the chainsaw his father had been using that morning to cut down the decaying oak tree in the front lawn. Then the hushed whispers of, “Stay down, Castiel. Be quiet. Don’t look,” as Anna pushed him into her closet and buried him under a pile of her clothes. Then there’s nothing but unsettling quiet until Anna’s bedroom door clicked shut with a finality that left Castiel shaking.
“Castiel,” a voice calls out after that. It is muffled by the walls separating them and the clothes piled over his head. Thunder rumbles somewhere off in the distance. “Castiel, why are you hiding? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Castiel? Castiel?” He jolted awake with a start. His shirt was drenched, and he could feel his hair clinging to his forehead. “Hey, boy, it’s all right.” John Winchester was standing at the side of Castiel’s bed, looking concerned. He ran a hand through Castiel’s matted hair gently.
“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel all but squeaked. He rubbed his hands against the white hospital sheets to dry them.
“Just John, okay?” he answered. “Feeling all right?” Castiel just nodded. He could still hear the sound of footsteps outside the door. “The doc said we’re all ready to check out whenever you feel up to it.” John set down a duffel bag that Castiel didn’t recognize on the foot of the bed. “I brought you some clothes. I’ll leave you to change. Come out whenever you’re ready.”
Castiel just nodded. He watched John shut the blinds for his privacy before leaving the room. John sent him a final smile of reassurance before the door clicked shut behind him.
Castiel allowed himself some time to take deep breaths to calm his thundering heart. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and placed his bare feet solidly on the tile floor. It felt cold after the constant warmth of the sheets.
As he opened the duffel, he examined the clothes John had brought for him: a white button-down and slacks. A generic set of clothes from Castiel’s wardrobe that wouldn’t dredge up memories. Castiel brought them up to his nose expecting the soft, comforting scent of the fabric softener his mother loved. Instead he received a more summery scent that he could identify with John. Obviously John had taken his clothes to his home to wash them. Castiel was surprised to find that the scent was just as comforting as the smell of home.
Castiel slowly started to peel off his hospital gown. It clung to his body from sweat. He hoped he could take a shower after arriving at the Winchester house. When he looked around his tiny hospital room that had been his home for the last three weeks, he was not surprised that he felt no remorse over leaving. It was easy to walk out and meet John in the hospital lobby. He lugged the duffel at his side and easily spotted the back of John’s head in one of the straight-backed, red chairs.
When he caught sight of Castiel, he set down the magazine he’d been leafing through and stood to take the duffel from Castiel.
“Ready to go?” Castiel simply nodded. “It’s almost time for lunch. I thought we’d stop at a diner or something on the way home.”
“We should go to Biggerson’s,” said the boy who’d been sitting next to John. He tugged at one of John’s sleeves in a pleading fashion. Castiel recognized the shaggy mop of dark hair from the stories John had been telling him and the pictures John had showed him from his wallet. This must be Sam Winchester, John’s youngest son.
“Is that okay with you?”
Castiel nodded. He’d never actually been to a Biggerson’s before. They were all over the place, but his mother had always been rather adamant about the good in an old-fashioned, home-cooked meal.
“I’m going to go over and check Castiel out at the desk. Take him out to the car for me, Sam?” He fished a set of keys out from his pocket and handed them to the twelve-year-old. Sam nodded enthusiastically and tugged at Castiel’s arm so he would follow along while John went the other direction toward the reception desk.
“I’m getting a burger with fries,” Sam announced once they had left the building. “Biggerson’s has the best fries, like, ever.” Sam had a skip to his step as he traipsed over to the car. It was a piece of machinery that Castiel was sure he should have been awe-inspired by, but honestly, he’d never been that kind of kid. “Have you ever been to Biggerson’s?”
Castiel shook his head. Sam clambered up over the front row of seats to slot a key into the ignition. Castiel sat a little uncomfortably in the back. When the rock music came on, Castiel winced at the volume. Sam made a disgusted face before turning the dial to a pop station.
“Dad’s always listening to stuff like that,” Sam explained. “Dean does too, but I don’t like it.” Sam shook his head to accentuate what he’d said. He climbed into the back seat to sit down next to Castiel. “He won’t let me sit in the front seat either. It’s something about me being too short. I think it’s stupid.”
Castiel didn’t answer.
“I was studying for this dumb math test,” Sam continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “I’m in advanced, but I just started and I’m trying to catch up, but everyone else is ahead of me, and it doesn’t make any sense.” He pulled out the folder he’d tucked away at his side.
Castiel glanced over at the problems in the folder. “I can help you if you’d like,” Castiel replied quietly.
“Really?” Sam brightened and laid the folder between the two of them. “That’d be great! I never used to have to pay attention. I used to doodle all over my notes. Now I can hardly keep up.”
When John reached the Impala, Castiel was teaching Sam shortcuts to solve the problems to his math homework. He smiled. Sam always did seem to bring the best out of other people. It was a big part of the reason he’d pulled Sam out of school to pick Castiel up with him. It had taken hours for Castiel to talk to John. It had taken Sam a few minutes.
“Ready for Biggerson’s?” John asked while shifting the Impala into drive. He smiled back at the two through the rearview mirror before he pulled out into traffic.
It was a short ride to Biggerson’s, no more than ten minutes. The ride was relatively quiet. John was tempted to change the station from the crap Sam had surely changed it to, but Sam was mumbling the lyrics under his breath, and he caught Castiel humming along on occasion, so he opted not to.
Sam darted over to his favorite booth. John smiled at his enthusiasm and followed at a slower pace with Castiel. Castiel hesitated before sliding into the booth beside Sam, the least threatening spot. It would be best to have only one person staring at him rather than two.
A waitress was over shortly to take their orders. “A burger, get a burger, they’re great,” Sam whispered almost conspiratorially into his ear. Needless to say, he ordered a burger. Sam seemed delighted.
“Where’s Dean?” Castiel couldn’t help but eventually ask. John had told him just as many stories about Dean as he had Sam, probably more. He didn’t seem like the kind to let his little brother meet the new kid first. Well, that, and he was the same age as Castiel.
“He has a football game tonight,” Sam said, pulling a face. “He can’t miss any school today, or he can’t go to the game.” Right, school. Castiel should have been in school today, except....everyone would have stared at him anyway. Castiel hated when the other kids stared.
“Soccer’s way better,” Sam added as a mumble.
“I think we all know which one comes out on top,” John said affectionately. “Baseball’s the best.” He reached across the table and ruffled Sam’s shaggy hair. Sam let out an angry whine, batting at John’s hand until John laughed and leaned back in his booth. Sam shot glares his father’s way, hopelessly trying to comb his hair down into some semblance of order.
He was quickly occupied when the waitress came back with their orders. He dug into the food immediately as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Castiel absently picked through the food. It’s not that it wasn’t to Castiel’s liking or anything; it’s just that he didn’t feel much like eating. He ate less than half the meal before pushing the plate away. His stomach twisted with guilt that John would have to pay for the picked over food in whole.
“Food not good, Honey?” the waitress asked when she returned for their plates. “Can I get you something else?” Castiel shook his head and looked down at his hands. “If you’re sure.” She picked up their plates, balancing them easily with experience. “I'll be right back with your check.”
When John had paid the bill, the three of them piled into the Impala. “It’s a long drive, so tuck in,” John warned as they pulled onto the interstate. Sam grumbled to himself when John turned the radio station back to his classic rock. With the exception of the radio, the ride was quiet.
--
Castiel could tell they were nearing their destination when Sam perked back up. At the beginning of the ride he’d been working on the math problems he’d shown Castiel. As the minutes passed by he’d become less interested, slumping further into his seat.
A sign whipped by welcoming them to Lawrence. Castiel watched the small town as they passed by it. The closer they came to the Winchester house the more active Sam became. He gathered up his stuff and watched the neighborhoods pass by.
Eventually John pulled the Impala up in front of a two-story house. The ignition clicked off, and Sam tumbled out of the car. Castiel followed after him. “You’re staying in Dean’s room,” Sam explained. “It’s bigger than mine, and he’s got a bunk bed.”
“Show Castiel upstairs,” John said once they’d entered through the front door. Castiel toed off his shoes on the mat before following Sam up the stairs. “Come back down here once you’re done!” John called after them.
“‘Kay!” Sam called back down the stairs. When Castiel looked around the house, he was reminded strongly of his own home. It sent a pang of hurt through his chest. Sam pushed open the first door they came to at the top of the stairs. “This is Dean’s room,” he announced. He bounced over to the bunk bed and flopped down on the lower one, which, Castiel noted, was a double bed as opposed to the single on the upper level. “Dean always sleeps on the top, but I’m sure he’d let you take it if you wanted.”
“No, the bottom is fine,” Castiel answered. He saw a few bags lying in the corner.
“Yeah, Dad’s been bringing stuff for you.”
“That was....very kind of him,” Castiel answered. He went over to the bags to open them. Most were full of clothes. The last one - the smallest one - contained other things. His cell phone and computer were both inside. He found his favorite bible and rosary beads. Finally, he pulled out a picture of Anna and Hester from the year before when they’d gone to the zoo. Hester had kept talking about how much she wanted to go, but their mother had always said that they were too busy, so one day Anna had just packed up a car and taken them.
Unwittingly Castiel felt tears begin to fill his eyes. He hadn’t cried once, not once since it had happened. Three days ago.
Three days ago when he’d lost his family.