Work Text:
Dean has lived a very tough life for a very long time. His life went to shit when he was four and ever since he's been holding on to the comet that is life. He just turned sixteen and has been living from motel to motel with his alcoholic father and twelve year old younger brother Sam.
His father would set them up in a motel for a month, give Dean one hundred dollars, then bail on Dean telling him to 'Watch out for Sammy' before disappearing into the city. Sometimes, Dean's father John would come back in the month time frame and they would simply move onto the next motel. Other times, the money would run out before John got back and well... Dean had to take care of Sammy somehow.
Most of the time Dean would just go out and hustle pool but if John was gone for too long people would catch on to Dean's game and he'd have to resort to other methods for money. Dean wasn't particularly proud of what he's done but it meant that Sam had food in his stomach, clothes on his back, and a bed to sleep in every night Dean didn't care.
It wasn't until John had been gone for three months while the small town of Pontiac, Illinois that stuff really started getting rough. It was a cold winter and they were running out of money. Dean had hustled his way through every bar in the town and gotten a reputation so no one would bet with him. He had started to get anxious because being in a small town was bad business for... other things and Dean couldn't afford being caught for solicitation.
Dean set Sammy up for the night with plenty of food (the rest that they had) and three classic movies Dean had nabbed from front desk. He then dressed warmly and was walking over to the next town a mile south when it happened. He bumped into man only a little taller than him wearing a trench coat.
They both tumbled and slipped on the oath way gripping each other for support before jerking back.
Mumbling an apology Dean backed away quickly and continued walking, determined to act as if it didn't happen when he realized that he couldn't feel his phone in his pants pocket. Turning around in a tizzy he searched frantically thinking of how Sammy might call him and not be able to reach Dean.
Falling on all fours he scoured the sidewalk until with random luck his screen lit up and he snatched it off the ground. Breathing hard he clutched the phone in his hand and watched the figure of the man he bumped into walk away. Glancing at his phone to make sure he had no important messages he saw out of the corner of his eye a brown lump on the sidewalk.
Bending down Dean grabbed the lump and examined it, realizing that it was a wallet. Opening it up Dean read the drivers license 'Castiel Emmanuel Novak'. Glancing at the now distant figure Dean moved to return the wallet when he saw a corner of green cash sticking out of the wallet.
Investigating further he noticed that there was a nice chunk of cash squirreled away in the wallet. The main pocket had around a hundred dollars in twenties in it but upon further inspection Dean discovered that there were many more pockets with much more money stashed all throughout the wallet.
Trapped in a flurry of temptation and pride, Dean stared at the wallet in disbelief before staring at the even more distant figure. “I could pay rent with this money” Dean thought, heart pounding. “I could buy food and clothes for Sammy and still pay rent.” While lost in his struggle with survival and morality Dean didn't see the distant figure stop in a spastic motion of fright. It wasn't until a wail of frustration sounded in the distance did Dean see the man obviously looking for the missing wallet.
Walking toward Dean the man stared methodically at the sidewalk hoping to find the missing wallet that was in Deans hands. Dean stepped forward then back still struggling. The man glanced up at the movement and noticed for the first time Dean standing there in the open with a wallet, his wallet.
His eyes screwed up in surprised anger and he jogged hurriedly toward Dean in an aggravated motion. “Hey!” He shouted, his voice a low gravel. He started to run toward Dean, “That's my wallet.” He announced as if Dean wasn't perfectly aware that the wallet he held in his hand wasn't his own.
Dean shuffled in place a moment staring at the man in shame before darting backward and off into alleyways. The man shouted unintelligible gibberish sounding astounded and furious that Dean had the audacity to take his wallet, but Dean couldn't find his self to care at the moment. Adrenaline racing through his veins and mind unburdened from financial peril Dean raced round and round until he was sure the man was gone. Breathing a sigh of relief he marched toward the grocery store intent on buying more food and blankets, who knew how long of a winter it would be without John.
Six Years Later Dean sits on a bench watching everyone move around him as if in slow motion. For the last three months, he has sat on this bench at exactly noon and watched the apartment buildings across the way.
He would pull out a weather worn wallet and hold it tightly in his grasp contemplating a life long left behind. Pulling out the wallet he tenderly opened it and stared at the familiar inside. The wallet was a plain brown on the outside but a light yellow on the inside. The money that had been it long gone, all that was left was various company business cards, a folded up brochure for Stanford, and a drivers license belong to one: Castiel Emmanuel Novak.
Dean stared hard at the now familiar face thinking back onto the fateful day he had acquired it and cringing at his decision. Dean did not for one moment regret his decision to steal the wallet even if it wasn't one of his proudest moments.
That wallet is what got them through that winter and gave Dean the balls to stand up to John when he finally got home after two more months. Dean had told him that he was taking Sammy and they were going to live with their Uncle Bobby in South Dakota. The wallet is the reason Dean went back and got his GED after dropping out of high school.
The wallet is the whole reason Dean forced Sam to apply to Stanford, the delicate pamphlet inside a constant reminder to Dean about the sacrifice he forced someone else to make so he could give Sam a life worth living.
Every day Dean was reminded of the wallet in one way or another but it wasn't until three months ago that he was forced to come to terms with his obsession and to atone for his sins. All through the years Dean never told Sam anything about their lives before Bobby. Sam was constantly bugging him to tell him how he got the money or asking him where he used to go.
It all came to a head when Dean came home one day from work to find Sam sitting on the couch reading a book with the wallet in his hand. As soon as Dean closed the door, Sam set his book down stared hard at Dean and asked about the wallet. Dean sat down and told Sam some things he did for money. About how he used to hustle at bars and how one time he stole a wallet.
He was very adamant to Sam that he only stole once and it was that wallet. He's felt so guilty for six years that he's kept it as a reminder to do better and be better. Sam seeing how torn up Dean was about it admitted to looking up Castiel Emmanuel Novak of 410 E Water St Pontiac, Illinois and that he still currently lived there.
Thus, Dean has sat on this bench for the last three months staring at the apartments he is positive Castiel Novak lives in so he can return a wallet that he stole three years ago. He was sweating, nervous and nauseous all at once staring at the looming building. Gathering strength and feeling it wane Dean sighed before shaking his head a deciding today just was not the day.
Glancing down at the still open wallet, Dean finds him self staring at Castiel Emmanuel Novak and taking in his all too familiar face. Obviously disgruntled in the picture his head was tilted almost curiously toward the right. His eyes were squinted in a quizzical way and his lips were drawn down in a frown. Five O'clock shadow ghosted his jaw line and his unruly hair looked haphazardly brushed at best.
All in all Castiel Emmanuel Novak's picture seemed to be mocking Dean in the most shame inducing way. His bright blue eyes accused Dean of his theft and his slight frown spurred Dean on to grow a pair and face his guilt head on.
Standing, Dean closed the wallet and gripped it tightly in his hands. Rubbing his hand down his face and scratching at his light stubble he squared his shoulders and marched forward to apartment 410. Knocking firmly on the door Dean braced his self for the confrontation of the century. Here he was giving a man his wallet back after stealing it six years ago.
A deep voice bellowed in the house that he would be a moment and time seemed to slow. The world and narrowed down to the opening of the door and the reveal of Castiel Emmanuel Novak of 410 E Water St. Pontiac, Illinois. His hair was still an unruly mop, his head tilted and eyes squinted taking in the sight of the stranger before him. His clothes were mismatched and old, clearly worn in and comfortable.
Then time seemed to speed up when Castiel Emmanuel Novak's eyes widened and he yelled “You!” before a fist flew up and smacked Dean right in the nose. The impact sent him sprawling down the stairs, landing hard on the sidewalk, and the wallet that had been clutched in his hand tumbling far out of reach.
Reeling from pain and bleeding Dean scrambled to right his self looking frantically for the wallet he dropped feeling his heart pound after each second he couldn't find it. Seeing it nestled between the railing bars on the steps Dean crawled toward it and it wasn't until he had it in his hands that he realized Castiel was still yelling at him.
“-you come to my house after so long as if I wouldn't remember you. As if I wouldn't remember the little brat from forever ago who stole my wallet so what? So you could have some money for beer or the movies?...” On and on Castiel's rant went, him pacing back in forth in front of Dean before he paused looking down at Dean and breathing heavily.
Dean looked up at Castiel feeling the blood drying to his nose and lips, feeling this sticky feeling begin. Castiel blinked as if woken from a daze and gripped his hand pulling him up. “Oh.” He stated dumbstruck, “I'm so sorry. I mean... I didn't mean... but I kinda did mean...” He paused looking for the right words before shaking his head. “Let's go inside shall we?”
Dean, still clutching the wallet allowed Castiel to haul him up the stairs and set him at the kitchen counter. Castiel wet a washcloth handing it to Dean before staring hard at him. “Alright.” He finally stated, sitting down. “What are you doing here?”.
Dean wiping up his face gingerly stopped and fumbled with the wallet, handing it over tenderly to Castiel. Castiel took it, gaping at the wallet he'd lost- Dean stole six years ago in disbelief.
“I'm Sorry.” Dean exclaimed, fiddling with fingers now that the wallet was gone. “I stole it six years ago and I never stopped feeling bad about it.” Castiel started to say something but Dean interrupted, continuing where he left off.
“I know exactly what I did. I stole your wallet six years ago and there is nothing to do to change that. This isn't some ruse to make you feel sorry for me. This is just a guy trying to make amends for the bad things in life he's done. Unfortunately, one of the bad things I did happened to affect you and for that I'm sorry.” He paused, wiping the errant blood off his hands before stumbling on. “I know you probably don't want to hear this but... that wallet gave us, us being my younger brother Sam and I, a lot. It gave us the obvious... money to pay for stuff but when the money ran out it helped me gain purpose.”
Castiel shuffled awkwardly, holding the wallet carefully. “How?” He asked, looking somewhat less shocked and more puzzled. “Well.” Dean continued, looking anywhere but at Castiel.
“I never wanted to steal again. I never wanted someone to sacrifice something for us like I forced you too. It was selfish and I hated it. So I dropped out and got a job. I got my GED and I got my brother into college. I'm taking community classes at a local college to get a business degree so I can open my own Auto-shop and everyday I would look at that wallet and think of you.”
He finally looked up at Castiel with unshed tears in his eyes. “I want to give you back what I stole and maybe help you become everything you've helped me become.” Castiel watched Dean curiously before gesturing toward the couch.
“I guess we can start with the small things.” Castiel said, sitting daintily. “My name is Castiel Novak most people call me Cas. What's your name?”
Dean sat down and stuck his hand out, “Hello Cas.” Dean said smiling. "My name is Dean Winchester and it's nice to finally meet you.”