Chapter Text
"I tend to keep Sammy's stuff right where he needs it," Dean says, directing Castiel forwards from the hallway. "His bathroom stuff in the en-suite, his bathing toys and sponge in the bathroom, his sippy cup and cutleries in the kitchen et cetera."
Castiel nods. That sounds very practical.
"Sam has his bowel movement usually in the morning," Dean keeps on. "We do his morning exercise, basically stretches and some agility, and he needs to go shortly after if everything is as usual. He is an early riser, so I'll have that with him, but if he doesn't manage in the morning, he might need his magic bullet."
Dean opens the cabinet, showing Castiel the pile of packages inside. "There is everything else you might need for that," he goes on. "Here's also one package of his spasticity medicine, just in case. He has it with his breakfast, but sometimes he needs it earlier, so I have brought one package here as well. Seizure and anxiety medicines will be taken with breakfast or right after it, so it will be gentler for his stomach."
Castiel listens intently, letting his eyes fly over the names on the packages. Valium. Ativan. Dilantin. Risperidone. Adderall. Zantac. Rubinol. There are many he recognizes from his earlier employers’ regimens. He will have time in the evening to check the use and contraindications of the medicines he doesn’t know. So no problem there.
They move on to Sam's bedroom, which is dominated by a massive hospital bed, shower chair and more cabinets. Dean opens the doors, and Castiel sees Sam's clothes on the left side and a mass of equipment for caregiving — hygiene and wound care, an assortment of nasal cannulas and plastic masks, that sort of thing — on the right. "Sam has very sensitive skin," Dean explains. "That is why we use wet-absorbing pads and plastic undersheets on his bed and when at home. He wears adult diapers only when we are out and about or when he has fecal incontinence and his medicines aren't working. I haven't found any diaper brand so far that wouldn't give him any rash."
"Many diaper users have the same problem," Castiel says. "Most of the market diapers include allergens. Detergent agents, fragrances, the glue at the tapes…"
"And I also think he enjoys feeling independent." Dean smiles at the thought.
"I think he should, a young man as he is," Castiel states, and Dean nods, clearly happy at the answer.
"His bed is all tech-tech, the remote is here," Dean goes on going around the bed and taking the device from the table beside the bed, showing Castiel the remote with colorful numbered stickers all over it. "I have put a sticker on the most important buttons," he says. "The list is over here in the drawer. And Sam sleeps with the eye pads, they are here as well."
Dean steps closer to the cabinet and waves towards the suction unit. "This is only used if needed," he says. "Normally, Sam can cough when reminded and assisted. If he's overly tired or moody, this will help, say, in three thirds of those situations. It is easily heard as well though. He rattles like an old wheel when that happens."
Dean glances at Castiel, his hand going up to scratch his neck in sudden unsureness. "Sorry if I keep jumping from thing to thing. Just ask if you feel overwhelmed."
Castiel shakes his head soothingly. "I'm all good," he soothes. "Maybe we could go through Sam's medicine regimen once again?"
They are up to their shoulders back in Sam’s medicine cabinet, when the front door is opened with a bang and they hear a happy, high-pitched squeal as well as a young lady’s laughing voice.
"We’re home!" The lady voice chirps. "The library had a new book exhibition of prehistoric mammals. We had a blast!"
"Charlie and Sam," Dean tells Castiel as he moves to close the cabinet doors. "We can continue later if you think you need that."
Castiel puts the package in his hands quickly on the top shelf before the door clicks closed. "I think I’m fine with this information, thank you," he says politely. "I can ask later should I feel the need."
"Do that," Dean says solemnly. He turns towards the happy sounds that keep wafting from the other side of the house and smirks the way Castiel has already started to like. "Charlie is one of the few people Sam and I know who voluntarily goes to the library and calls it a blast," he explains. "I hope that, given time, you’ll make a good addition in that aspect. God knows I have tried, but I just can’t seem to find a right… headspace maybe?"
Dean’s joking encourages Castiel to return the smirk. "I’d be happy to be that addition," he declares. "I know exactly what Charlie and Sam mean, although I think I have used a different word for that."
Dean smiles. "So, shall we go and meet one of my besties and your new…"
"Employer," Castiel ends the sentence. "In the eyes of the law, Sam is my employer rather than my patient or charge. Of course I hope he’ll be my friend at some point as well."
Dean nods. "Okay, let’s go then."
When they enter the kitchen, the coffee is brewing, and there are four strawberry cupcakes waiting on the table. Sam has wheeled beside the counter and a young, fiery red haired lady sits by him, leafing the book of dinosaurs for Sam to see and commenting enthusiastically. Sam watches with a keen interest, finally grunting and laying his fist on a certain page, and the lady stops, smiling, and crouches forward to read.
"It's a Nanuqsaurus, Sam," she says happily, and then her eyes go wide as she reads further. "It lived in the North Pole, copy that! Did you know that there were dinosaurs in the Arctic? I surely didn't!"
Sam hums, his enthusiastic tone mirroring his friend's, and the lady turns to look at him with fondness in her eyes, wiping the long bangs from Sam's forehead before she keeps reading. "Its name means 'a polar bear lizard'," she keeps on, giggling a little at the image and drawing a chuckle out of Sam as well. "And it lived 70 million years ago in the North Slope of Alaska. I wonder what it ate… Seal lizards, maybe?"
Dean rolls his eyes in a mocking irritation and clears his throat before the two nerds get into a full swing. The lady and Sam both turn towards the sound, Sam cooing happily and the lady smiling expectantly at him.
"Meet the new addition to our household," Dean declares, stepping to the side, revealing the sheepishly smiling Castiel and nudging him inside the room from the hallway. "Sam's new carer, Castiel Novak — a family friend, Charlie Bradbury."
Castiel blinks, always finding an abrupt meetings a little awkward, but Charlie is right on it, hopping off the bar stool she's sitting on and coming closer with a radiant smile, her hand reached out.
"Castiel!" She exclaims. "Nice to meet you, finally!"
Finally? Castiel blinks at the lady and glances at Dean, who suddenly seems very interested in a little dent on the wall.
Charlie laughs and winks at Castiel. "I've just heard about you so much, that's all," she states brightly. "You are the first carer in this house after all. Hiring you is a huge thing for Dean and Sam, you know."
"Thanks, Charlie," Dean says quickly, glancing meaningfully at her. Then he looks back at Castiel. "Charlie is our nerd extension," he says to the man. "We met when she was helping us with some computer stuff."
"Yeah," she quips. "I'm a hacker slash IT professional. In that order. And a part of the clan, obviously."
She flashes a quirky smile towards Dean, who chuckles lightly. "I also keep these boys on the line, and feed Sam's inner nerd."
Sam grunts at that, and Charlie crouches close to give him a soft side hug, which makes Sam laugh.
Castiel smiles and takes the hand, squeezing it. "Nice to meet you, Charlie," he says. "I'm a registered nurse, and I think I'm already hired as Sam's library assistant as well."
Charlie nods kindly, already opening her mouth to answer. But then, the coffee maker blings, and Sam lolls his head towards the sound, lets out an enthusiastic squeal and makes them all chuckle.
"Coffee and cupcakes, anyone?" Charlie chirps and waves both her hands in a theatrical gesture of showing the way.
They all agree, others as well as Sam, and Charlie starts to set the table as Dean makes Sam ready, fetching his gaiter style neck apron from the drawer and setting a plastic table cover and Sam's cutlery at the table in front of Sam. They are a special design with no sharp edges, and they are ankled the way it's easier for Sam to take the food into his mouth to move around and swallow.
Castiel follows with a keen eye as Dean leaves Sam at the table, letting him inspect his cutleries at his own pace, and takes a carton of vanilla flavored nutritional smoothie from the fridge, measuring some of it inside a mixer he pulls out from the cabinet. When Charlie is ready with the coffees and cupcakes, Dean takes one of them, crumbling it inside the mixer with nutri smoothie and spins several times, making it a smooth dish edible with a spoon.
"I currently use the level 2 in the recipe book with Sam," he says to Castiel, waving towards the thick file on the side counter that says "SAM'S RECIPES" and sits beside his brother, who is practically salivating as he sees the delicacy coming closer. "There are recipes for all the levels Sam has been during the years, from all chewable to downright liquids, with every dish we tend to eat. Feel free to add any recipes as you eat together with Sam."
Dean takes a pile of napkins from the rack and places it close, taking one of them to wipe Sam's mouth. "Sam's swallowing has been a bitch lately," he explains softly as he adjusts his position closer to his brother. He tilts Sam's neck gently straighter, curls his own arm around Sam's back and takes his palm under Sam's chin. "But his speech therapy has been almost completely about the swallowing exercises the last few weeks, and we can see some progression already. Aren't we, Sam?"
Sam doesn't answer, completely concentrating on the spoon that Dean dips into the cupcake smoothie, taking a small amount, not much more than a half spoonful, into the cutlery. Sam's mouth opens promptly as the spoon comes closer, a blob of saliva starting to drip onto his chin, and Dean again fishes it to a napkin without a hitch.
"Yeah, this is so yummy, Sammy," he chats softly as he checks meticulously that everything's as it should be. "Charlie's recipe." He flashes a smile at the lady, who actually blushes a little. "Now, I know you are ready to kill for this treat, but let's take it easy, okay?"
Sam grunts, his eyes trained at the half-full spoon in front of him. Dean takes the spoon evenly to Sam’s lips, and as Sam opens up, he tilts the spoon slowly inside Sam's mouth. "Easy now, Sammy," Dean hums, watching Sam's progress carefully. "Nice and easy, buddy, alright? Remember what Naomi told you. Taste every bit. Here we go."
Sam's eyes close as he feels the treat on his tongue, his jaw half open until Dean gently closes it with his hand under Sam's chin. At that, it's like Sam remembers what to do, and he starts chewing slowly. Dean stares at him, seemingly counting seconds.
"And then, swallow," Dean says softly, and Sam does as he says, Dean lightly holding his mouth closed.
Dean's posture is tense, waiting, and he lets out a relieved sigh as the movement of Sam's throat stops and he opens his mouth again, his breathing clean and even. "Then, a sip of water," Dean says with that same, soft and soothing voice, causing Sam to open his eyes and frown at the cup in front of him. "Water first, then coffee. Naomi's orders, brother."
Charlie and Castiel look at the brothers' interaction silently for some time, and then Charlie leans towards Castiel, nursing her coffee mug between her hands. "So, library's your thing?" She speaks softly, not wanting to disturb the brothers as Sam eats.
Castiel blinks, then nods. "Yes," he replies. "Very much."
Charlie's smile is kind and playful. "Which department?"
"Huh?"
"Which department would you stay for a night if you had a chance?"
Castiel thinks for a while. Charlie seemed nice at first, but is she making fun of him now? "I don't think they allow someone to spend a night at the library," he says after a moment, a little rejecting.
Charlie laughs softly, not seeming baffled at all. "You're probably right," she complies. "But let's imagine that. I have daydreamed of a night in a library since I was a little girl."
"I don't think it's impossible at all, knowing Lily," Dean quips in from the side, his eyes on his brother. "Good work, Sam," he praises softly, taking the spoon back and cleaning Sam's face. "Two spoonfuls, wow! Do you think we could make it three?"
Sam hums and opens up for the next spoonful, and it goes down without a hitch, at the same, leisurely space than the earlier ones. "Sam clearly likes you for eating company," Dean remarks happily as he wipes Sam’s face clean again. -"Okay, Sammy, now I can smooth the rest for you. You can have it through the straw. What do you say?"
"Lily?" Castiel asks Charlie as Dean stands at Sam’s complying hum to go to the side counter to prepare the dish for Sam's easier eating, making it thinner with the rest of Sam's nutri smoothie.
Charlie smiles as she answers. "Lily is super," she declares. "She's the librarian in the closest library here, the one we usually go to. She must be almost sixty, but she's so adventurous and open-minded, always planning new things. She actually might pull up a night in the library if someone proposed."
"She sounds nice," Castiel says, and Charlie nods enthusiastically.
"She is so nice!" She enthuses. "She was there already when I was a little girl, and she made me fall in love with fairy tales and stories and fantasy worlds. You'll love her for sure, and she loves Sam."
"That's an indefinite plus," Castiel says.
Charlie's expression turns fond. "Sam's a sweetheart. I love spending time with him."
"You do that often?"
Their soft chatting stops as Dean clears his throat softly. "Guys," he whispers. "Would you mind going to the living room? I'll take care of Sam and join you in a bit."
Charlie glances at Sam and stands right away. "Okay, but don't you even try to do the dishes," she says warningly, grinning at Dean's chuckle, and goes.
Castiel stands as well, but stays where he is, looking at Sam who's blinking in his wheelchair that Dean has already reclined a little, drifting in and out of sleep as Dean coaxes him to drink the last drops of his smoothie. "Are you sure you don't need help, Dean?" He asks softly. "I really could do something here already."
Dean shakes his head. "Nah, you are not paid until Monday," he says. "Enjoy your time with Charlie. You will have plenty of time to be with Sam when you will officially start. I'll just give Sam a little bath and do the suctioning before he'll have his nap. Then I'll join you two."
Castiel feels like objecting, but says nothing out loud. After all, Dean is his employer, and his word is Castiel's law. Who knows, maybe it's that Dean wants to spend as much time as possible with his brother before he goes back to work. Dean hasn't said anything about how he feels of the new phase of his and Sam's life, but Castiel can imagine it at least somewhat hard to leave your loved one you have cared for so long in the hands of a stranger, let them be as experienced or seemingly trustworthy as ever.
Charlie turns from the bookshelf as Castiel enters the living room, a couple of DVD's in her hands. "Dean is simply hopeless," she states with a fond eye roll, waving the items in the air. "He hasn't got any idea of good versions of movies. Just last week I babbled him all about The Wizard of Oz and how super Judy Garland is in it, and now he has bought it — the animation!"
"I know the worse versions than that," Castiel says, amicably, coming closer and taking a look at the cover. "That 1982 animation is golden compared to the newer ones."
Charlie freezes at that, shivering dramatically. "You mean like Dorothy's Return? It's a disgrace! I'll take any anime over that."
They fall in comfortable chat, abandon the DVD shelf soon and go to sit on the couches, returning back to their library and books discussion. They struggle a bit in finding a common ground between Charlies’s fantasy enthusiasm and Castiel’s love for nature science, but still it’s nice to have a light, amicable chat. Dean goes here and there behind them a couple of times on his way from the bathroom and back, fetching whatever it is that Sam needs when he’s taken care of and prepared for his nap. It's almost an hour later when Dean comes from the bedrooms, sits down with them and places a baby monitor in front of him at the table.
"What a day," he says with a happy sigh. "Sam must have gotten stimulation for all week's worth. You are worth your weight in gold, Charlie."
Charlie hums happily. "Nah," she says, grinning. "With Sam, it's a win-win."
They sit and chat for a while, and then Charlie bids them goodbye and leaves, telling Castiel once more how happy she is that Sam has such a nice guy to take care of him. When the bubbling cloud of her is out of the door, Dean looks at Castiel again.
"Do you have any questions you wanna ask?" He queries. "About us, Sam, your work, that sort of thing?"
Castiel is all fine, and he tells the older brother that. So, they converse a little and end their meeting, deciding that Castiel will come the next day to get to know Sam more and, what's more important, let Sam know him more.
Castiel feels like floating when he walks towards the nearest bus stop on his way home. Everything has gone better than he has dared even to believe. He feels happy to see a family, although a slightly unconventional one, with so much love and caring in it. He remembers so many patients he has had in a hospital that have waited, in vain, for someone to just come and visit them. It always broke Castiel's heart, and he is also aware of the numbers of annually violated or molested people with disabilities in the U.S. Even with this short experience in the Winchester household, Castiel knows for sure that Sam will never be one of them.
On the other hand, he can't help thinking how strong or at least decisive a person Dean must be to have taken care of Sam, seemingly all alone, much of his adult life and who knows how long before that. To have Castiel to share some of the responsibility must be a great relief for him. Castiel really wants to be worthy of all that trust.
His thoughts take him almost without noticing until the half of his trip home, and he stirs back to reality not earlier than on his cell phone's ringing. The screen is showing his older brother's name and number.
"Hello, Balthazar," he says to the speaker.
"Hi, Cassie," Balthazar's deep voice answers him at the other end of the line. "How did the interview go?"
Always right to the point, Castiel hums inwards. Aloud he says simply, "It was good, thank you. The people were nice and the job description seemed reasonable. Plus, only day shifts. The older brother wants to take care of his younger by himself at night."
Balthazar hums. "Day shifts sound good," he says. "How about the salary?"
Castiel huffs. "Mediocre," he snaps. "I'm not doing it for money, Balt."
"Yes, and that's why you need an occasional reminder," Balthazar says. "You need to be aware of your rights, especially with a private employer. Have you discussed vacations and free days?"
Castiel huffs again. "De –, I mean my employer is in the union, as am I."
"On my initiative," Balthazar reminds. "Without me, you would still think you don't need that."
Castiel sighs, "Balt…"
"Alright, alright." There is a creak of leather, and Castiel can picture his older brother relaxing his posture behind his oak-tree office table. "I just worry for you, Cassie, that's all. You tend to walk your head up high in the clouds sometimes. I want you to remember the realities."
"I know." Castiel places the phone between his shoulder and cheek, starting to dig his home key out of his bag. "I appreciate it, I do."
Balthazar sighs, but not unkindly. "Alright, tell me," he coaxes. "Everything that doesn't fall under a professional secrecy."
Castiel tells. He finds himself delighted to speak about the brothers, because it means that he can think about them. He's happy with their characters, and he dares to hope that they like him as well.
"Is it already decided that you will be their choice?" Balthazar asks.
"Not quite yet," Castiel replies, settling the frozen toasts on a plate for microwaving. "Tomorrow I'll go and spend the day with them, and the younger brother and I will truly interact and then he'll show if he wants me as well," he tells his own brother on the line. "The older one has already met me and decided for himself, but it's important that the younger one also approves, because he's my actual employer, the one I will take care of."
"Sounds like a protective one, this older brother," Balthazar remarks.
"Yes, he is!" Castiel enthuses. "He really wants everything to be okay with his younger brother. It's so heartwarming to see. After the case with John and Adam —"
Castiel stops abruptly, suddenly not wanting to go in that direction and chastising himself for taking it in the first place. He still feels sadness creeping close as he thinks about the father and his 16-year-old son with cerebral palsy, a pair he had a chance to know not more than for a month.
The leather creaks again. Balthazar's voice is soft. "I'm sorry you had to face that, Cassie," he says. "I really should have given their case for someone with —"
"Thicker skin?" Castiel says bitterly.
"More experienced to handle a hard case like that," Balthazar keeps on, unbaffled. "You were right to contact the CPS, Cassie. They just came to our hands far too late."
Castiel shakes his head to banish the gloomy thoughts. It's all in the past, he tells himself silently. "Yeah," he says softly, trying to tell himself he means it. "But, as I said, I'm happy that I don't need to do that again soon. At least, not with these brothers. De —, the older is like an element of nature when he protects the younger."
"That's good to hear," Balthazar says, his voice smiling.
There's a moment of silence between them, which Castiel fills in, knowing that Balthazar is expecting that of him, wanting for him to lead the way. "So, enough about me." Castiel takes the can of hummus, salad and tomatoes from the fridge and a clean knife from the drawer, starting to prepare his veggie sandwich. "How are Amelia and the kids doing?"
They fall into a light chat with that, Balthazar telling about the doctoral dissertation of his wife and the antics of their two children. Castiel listens and chuckles every now and then, preparing his food and, eventually, eating as he comments on appropriate places. It's early evening already when they end their call and Castiel settles for a cozy time on a couch with a throw blanket and a book.
Sleeping time coming, Castiel sets his alarm clock, again at five, and his coffee maker, thirty minutes prior. It's a soothing number, five, and he will have time to get to the brothers in time even if something unexpected happens. Just in case.
The last picture he has in his mind before his eyes close is of two brothers along the bus route 23.