Chapter Text
“It’s sometimes called the lovebird’s dish.” Castiel said as he stood next to the giant window overlooking the city. “You can stuff them, broil them, poach them. It’s perfect for any romantic dinner.” He continued as he watched people on the street below. It was an overcast and gloomy day and many people were walking against the wind, tucking their jackets in as they went along their day. “The trick is to not overcook them.” He finished and then turned around. He let his eyes sweep over the office he was in and noted the odd paper weight in the shape of a small cauldron. He found it rather odd but didn’t say anything.
“I thought we agreed you would stop bringing food to these sessions.” His therapist said from where she was seated at her desk. She was a petite woman with bright red hair and an even brighter personality. All of which was exactly how she presented herself with her smokey eyed makeup looks that complimented the colours of her many high end dresses tailored to fit her precisely.
Her office was the most lavish and over the top displays of wealth that Castiel had ever seen. Yet Rowena knew how to carry herself to not come across as though she was flaunting it. Everything was just so...her. From the dark purple satin striped walls, to the gold crown moulding on the ceiling (and gold everything else) lining the room, all modestly decorated with floating shelves of books from varying decades, many first editions kept in pristine condition.
Castiel found himself studying more of the room than the woman sometimes. Maybe it was because everytime he looked at her he got so uncomfortable and felt as though she could see past his bullshit and that she wasn't afraid to call him out on it. So instead, he would go to the giant bay windows overlooking the city, or look at the rest of the room decor as he paced the room. It was like an eye spy book came to life, he was always finding something new amongst it all.
Castiel had been to many therapists growing up, however Rowena took the cake when it came to having a flamboyant personality that was just threatening enough to demand his respect the moment he walked in the door. So instead of writing her off he had caved and had given her the time and day during their first intake session, and the rest was history. The fact he had lasted several months was proof enough she worked magic in mysterious ways.
Rowena raised a delicate eyebrow and gave him a knowing look as she cut into the quail he had so generously brought.
Castiel had once again used his session as a chance to “try out a new recipe” in hopes that he could distract her long enough to keep her from dredging up typical therapy conversations. If she had picked up on his distraction techniques she didn’t mention it much. Rather she probably was writing it up in his notes for his session when he wasn’t looking. Or maybe she was trying to decipher the recipe by taste. (Though that was a thought he typically would squash immediately because he never wanted to end up narcissistic like a past coworker of his.)
“I don’t recall if we ever came to an official agreement.” Castiel answered from where he stood. His back was turned away from her and he was already counting down the minutes before he could leave.
“Good as it may be, sweetie pie, I’m still curious to know why you think your manager wants you in therapy?” Rowena was one of the few, if not the only person, who could get away with pet names such as ‘sweetie pie’ in Castiel’s book. Perhaps it was because he thought that good behaviour would get him out of his sessions. So a little leeway on the matter was allowed.
Castiel turned back around from where he was staring out the window, gave her one of his many unamused stares and then said quite frankly, “I have absolutely no idea.”
Getting back in the kitchen felt like coming home. He knew exactly where everything was and had trained his staff well when it came to tidying up properly at the end of each shift. The first week he’d set one of the line cooks straight when the poor soul had accidentally put the spices back out of order. That had been a fiasco waiting to happen.
Castiel inhaled as he wrapped his apron around his waist and exhaled as he tied it around his front. It was his way of grounding himself before the inevitable start of a busy Thursday night dinner rush at The Bite of Heaven. Though no one really called it by the full name, his friend and owner of the restaurant Balthazar, had come up with it. More popularly it was known as The Bite.
The kitchen was soon enough bustling with ticket orders and Castiel was in his element slinging directions left and right. “I need a lobster for table 4, a poached quail for table 7, and 2 medium rare steaks with grilled asparagus for table 14. Come on guys, pick up the pace. Let's get some food on these plates! Where are the beef tenderloins?” Castiel called out from his station on the opposite side of the line cooks where the food tickets were waiting for their respective dishes.
“Yes, chef!” Came the chorus of responses.
Castiel allowed a small smile to himself. He prided himself in the work he had done to get to head chef at The Bite. It had taken years of studying and working under other well known chefs. Along with years of torment working alongside his former colleague Crowley who had made his time in Hell's Kitchen torment. So when his good friend Balthazar had pitched his idea of opening his own restaurant, Castiel was the first to bite at the offer of taking place as head chef. Pun intended.
In the 5 years since starting the restaurant, he had made quite a name for himself amongst the culinary community. There wasn’t a chef in New York that didn’t know who Castiel Novak was and his cutthroat approach at running a kitchen. Many aspiring chefs scrambled to apply for the line cook positions, all with hope of learning from the blue eyed chef.
At some point Balthazar had told him that he should work on his “people skills,” and had him agree to go to therapy after one too many staff had gone to him in tears begging for something to change. Castiel wasn’t sure why it was such a big deal. As long as the food was cooked to perfection and the customer was happy, he didn’t see why he needed to be in therapy. Though he would rather not have that argument with his friend again.
The door that led to the dining room swung open and Meg, one of the servers, could be heard gossiping with Jo. “I’m telling you that guy is such a fucking perv. He not only looked right down the front of my shirt, but the drooling scumbag had the audacity to try and guess my cup size.” She said as she walked up to where the line of plates ready to be taken out to the tables was waiting for the servers. She picked up two of them and gave Jo another eyeroll before turning around.
Castiel was quick to see that the plate was missing its garnish and tutted as Meg went to leave. “Forgetting something, Masters?”
Meg looked down at the plates she was holding and shrugged. “You tell me, Clarence.”
So maybe it wasn’t just his therapist that he allowed nicknames for, though in Meg’s case it was more of resignation when it came to attempting to get her to stop. He held out the garnish for her and waited until she spun around enough for him to place them on top of the steaks.
“Aw see, now what would I do without you, Clarence?” Meg said in her singsong voice, saved specially for Castiel.
“That’s, Chef, to you.”
“Right, right. Chef Clarence.” She said and winked as she spun on her heels and headed back out to the dining room. For some reason his serious mood never seemed to deter her, much to Castiel’s dismay.
“That’s a reminder for all of you,” Castiel started and let his gaze land on Jo and the other server who walked into the kitchen. “Don’t forget the garnishes.”
Balthazar came striding in at that point beaming at Castiel. “Aww, Cassie! So glad to see that lovely demeanor of yours.”
Castiel snorted, he knew Balthazar was being an ass. “What do you want? I’m busy at the moment.”
Balthazar feigned being hurt and clutched his chest. “You wound me, Cassie." His British accent became even more prominent as he joked. "Our regulars are here and would love for you to step out and make an appearance so they can praise you in person. Please tell me you’ve got enough of that fake smile left in you for the night?” He pleaded and even went so far as to bat his eyelashes.
Castiel huffed a breath of hot air but knew that Balthazar wouldn’t let him live it down if he refused. “You’ve got 2 minutes.” He said and pulled his apron off.
Anna, his sous chef, gave him one of her glowing smiles. Though the glowing could have been due to her pregnancy and the fact she was just about ready to go into labour any day. “We’ll be fine for more than 2 minutes, Castiel. Go do your rounds.” Then she shooed him off.
Castiel nodded and then followed Balthazar out into the dining room. The dimly lit room added to the ambiance of the place, though Castiel could do without being in the same room with as many people. It was a small restaurant that utilized every nook and cranny for space. Tables were shoved up next to each other, yet Balthazar had an eye for design making it all flow seamlessly together. Though it was a tight squeeze to get to some of the tables, it didn’t retract from the experience at all. In fact a lot of patrons had said it was from seeing the table next to them order their food that they got the idea to order the same dish. If anything Balthazar had done an exceptional job at tricking his patrons into buying more wine and more food and they were none the wiser.
The regulars, a Mr. Zachariah and Mrs. Naomi Peterson, were at the entrance getting their coats on as he approached them with Balthazar. “Ah! There he is! The man of the hour!” Zachariah called out.
Castiel was humble enough to blush slightly at the praise.
“You’ve outdone yourself again, Castiel.” Naomi added as she slipped her hand into the arm of her jacket. “I keep telling everyone I know to come here because they haven’t tasted heaven until they’ve had your saffron sauce!” She beamed. “One of these days I’ll have to bribe you into giving me the recipe.” She smiled an almost predatory smile as she spoke.
Castiel felt a cold shiver run down his spine and managed to maintain his polite smile through it all.
Balthazar continued to do the talking until they both left. Castiel said nothing more than a polite, “Thank you,” here and there. Soon enough he was left to go back to the kitchen.
As he was walking by one of the tables next to the bar, he overheard a conversation with one of the guests and Jo.
“I’m telling you, it’s undercooked. If we wanted it raw, we would have gone to the store instead of coming in here and cooked it at home.” The husband said in an angry huff.
Jo did her best to placate him by apologizing and promising to bring his wife out a fresh foie gras.
Balthazar was finishing up showing the Petersons out and could see from his vantage point that Castiel was about to get into a dispute with the customer. He tried to make it over to the table in time before Castiel could say anything to upset them. Unfortunately he wasn’t able to get there fast enough to intervene.
“It’s not undercooked, it’s cooked perfectly.” Castiel said and leveled the guest with his best icy glare.
“Oh yeah? Well maybe next time actually check to see if it’s raw or not.”
Castiel felt a headache starting at the base of his neck.
“Let me get you a new appetizer instead.” Balthazar tried to swoop in to alleviate the tensions.
“It’s fine.” Castiel said once again, more stern this time. He held out a hand to stop anyone from removing the dish from the table.
“Honey, it’s fine if you don’t know how to cook a foie gras.” The husband said and sent his know-it-all glare to the executive chef.
Castiel bristled. “There’s nothing wrong with my foie gras. It’s precisely comme il faut.”
“Excuse me?”
“Comme il faut. As it should be. 140 degrees in the oven, 80 degrees water temperature, for 25 minutes. Not too long, not too short, with just enough touch of pink... Honey .” He emphasized his last word and narrowed his glare while staring at the man in question.
The husband’s face flushed red in anger. He dramatically picked up his napkin and threw it down on the table. “That’s it, we’re taking our service elsewhere. Come on, babe, let's go.”
The wife, a mousey character, quietly stood up and kept her head ducked low. Clearly used to her husband's antics and wanting to get as far away as possible. She shuffled out from her chair and followed her husband as he left.
“Why don’t you try the hotdog stand across the street?” Castiel called after them. “I hear they make to order.”
Balthazar hit him on the shoulder. “Seriously, Cassie, we need to work on that temper of yours. You can’t keep scaring off the customers just because they don’t agree with your way of cooking.”
“What, and serve them a happy meal?”
“In a sense.”
Castiel scoffed and then returned to the kitchen finally. When Anna asked him how it went with meeting The Petersons and all he could do was shrug. It was a typical night. Regulars came in, they wanted to meet the renowned chef, and Castiel wanted nothing to do with it. Balthazar would make him smile and nod, “fake it til you make it, Cassie,” and then he would finish the rest of service.
The rest of the night went by without any hitches. Castiel returned home later that evening and pulled out some of the tupperware that held the leftovers from his therapist visit from the fridge. Sighing to himself he set about reheating his food and sitting down to eat by himself at his small kitchenette table.
Another night of leftovers eaten alone.
The next morning Castiel woke to the sound of his alarm clock signalling it was the time of the week to head down to the docks to stake claim to the best catch of the day.
He yawned as he got up but couldn't contain the childlike giddiness he felt over getting there early. He’d managed to make some connections over the years and became well known and well liked amongst the many fishermen that frequented the markets on the docks.
One of those people included Benny Lafitte. At first Castiel didn’t care too much for him, until he proved to be the best at getting any special request that Castiel had when it came to fish. That particular week was the golden tilefish.
He was finishing up with Bob, his lobster guy, and setting up a time for him to deliver the lobsters when he heard the familiar southern drawl of Benny come from behind.
“Who’s your favourite?” Benny asked.
Castiel spun on his heel faster than a kid in a candy store. “You didn’t.”
“You tell me. These the tilefish you’ve been fawning over for weeks?” Benny asked with such smugness as he leaned back against the stack of crates.
Castiel ran over and inspected a few of the fish up close. They were gorgeous and everything Castiel could have wanted. “Benny you’re the best!” Castiel gave his praise as his eyes nearly bulged from taking in the beautiful fish in front of him.
“Have I ever done you wrong?” Benny’s southern accent was most prominent in the morning, and even more so when he knew he was impressing Castiel. He leaned down and pointed to his cheek. “Promise is a promise.”
Castiel laughed and rolled his eyes before leaning up to plant a quick kiss on Benny's cheek.
“Hey no fair! Where’s my kiss?” Bob called from behind them.
Benny was the first to answer, “You don’t bring the goods, Bob. Maybe next time you catch a whole lot of golden tilefish and then you’ll get your kiss.”
The two men argued as Castiel made arrangements to have the fish sent over. He was so absorbed with his catch, pun intended, that he paid no mind to the squabbling pair of fishermen as he bid them farewell.
Castiel’s excitement ran into the rest of the day as he went home to do some more cooking before going in for his shift later that evening. He’d managed to convince Benny to let him take a few of the fish home to practice different recipes with, and he intended to cook a special dinner for his brother and niece who were due to visit.
As if on cue, his phone started ringing.
“Jimmy, how’re you? How’s the drive going?” Castiel answered and put the phone on speaker.
His brother laughed on the other end of the line, “Let me guess you’ve been up since 4am?”
Castiel continued heating up the butter in his pan and added some fresh sprigs of rosemary to it. “Perhaps.”
“Well don’t go making anything too crazy.”
“It’s not too crazy, I enjoy cooking for my family. Speaking of, how is Claire?”
Castiel could hear the rush of traffic around them on the phone. He couldn’t see the loving look that his twin gave to Claire who was seated in the back seat covering her eyes with peacock feathers.
“She’s beautiful, Cassie, you won’t recognize her. She's gotten so big since the last time you saw her.” Ok so maybe nicknames also extended to his brother as well. He was family after all.
“Oh yeah?” Castiel asked, clearly amused, “What kinds of foods does she eat these days?” It’s not that he didn’t have faith in his cooking abilities, however dealing with a preteen child usually meant dealing with the pickiness of one. He’d rather be prepared than deal with last minute runs to the store to get something she would want.
“She’ll eat anything, she’s like a vacuum.”
“Dad!” Claire yelled from the back seat. Clearly offended by his comment.
Castiel laughed and for the first time in a long time was looking forward to his night after work.
“Just drive safe and I’ll see you later, ok?”
“Of course, I always do! We should be getting in sometime around 9pm.” Jimmy said.
“Sounds good, I’ll have dinner ready when you get here.”
“Oh we’re not picky, we can get a pizza on the way.”
“What kind of brother would I be if I made you stop for pizza?” Castiel said unimpressed.
Jimmy laughed and then spoke to Claire, “Say bye to your Uncle Castiel. We’ll see you soon!”
“Bye Uncle Castiel!” Claire called out before the call ended.
Castiel was just about to head down the stairs and out to his therapy session when his downstairs neighbour decided to make his way back from wherever he’d been. He tried desperately to make it back into the safety of his unit before being spotted. As luck would have it...
“Ah! Castiel! So good to see you!” Mick said as he bounded up the steps. “Are you just coming or going?”
“Coming, er, going….I...forgot something.” He said lamely and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb up to where his front door was.
“Well one of these days you’re gonna have to let me take you out for dinner. I just tried this wonderful Thai place just a few blocks away. Best Pad Thai I’ve ever had.”
“Ah, well...You know my policies on dating. I don’t date anyone I live in the same building with.”
Mick gave him a sad smile. “What a shame.” He said as he opened his door.
Castiel went to move past him when Mick gave him a puzzled look. “Didn’t you forget something?”
“Oh, right.” Castiel said and made a show of going back up the stairs to his own unit. He opened the door and then waited several moments before slamming it shut to make it sound like he’d run inside to grab whatever it was he was lying about forgetting.
By the time he made it back down the stairs, Mick was already back in his apartment.
Maybe it was the good mood of knowing his brother and niece were visiting, maybe it was the new recipe he was glad he got to try before going into his session, but whatever it was Castiel found himself on the opposite end of rapid fire questions regarding his love life that afternoon from Rowena.
“So tell me, Castiel, have you ever been in a relationship before?”
For once Castiel found himself lying on the couch instead of standing at the window. It was very cliche of him, he thought.
“Mmm….once seriously.” He answered and turned on his side so he was facing away from Rowena and towards the back of the couch.
“You want to elaborate more on that Dearie?”
“No.” Castiel was quick to respond and then sighed because he knew he was being an ass. “But I guess I can anyway.”
Rowena waited patiently.
“There was one relationship a few years ago, but it didn’t work out.”
“Why is that?”
“He wanted too much from me and I couldn’t give up my independence for him.”
Rowena hummed from her spot at the desk. “What made it feel like it was too much?”
“Well for starters he wanted me to move in with him.” Castiel said as though that was answer enough. He snorted at the memory.
“Why is that so bad?”
“I mean, it’s not bad, but he wanted me to give up my place for him.”
“How long had you been together by that point?”
“Mmm...2 years I think.”
“And you feel like 2 years is too soon to ask someone to move in?”
“That’s not it, he wanted ME to move in with HIM. I can’t give up my life or my home.”
“Why not?” Rowena offered a sympathetic look, though Castiel was still turned around and couldn’t see.
“Well, for starters, what would happen when things eventually ended? I’d move in, he’d get tired of me, things would get strained, and then we would break up and I would be left with nothing because I’d given it up to move in with him.” Castiel sighed and sat up. “Samandriel was sweet, but I wasn’t about to give up my life for him.”
Rowena clucked her tongue as though that was answer enough. “I see.”
The session ended leaving Castiel reminiscing and thinking of why relationships were so important.
Castiel blamed his therapy session for putting a damper on his evening, and so when things started to go wrong at work he chalked it up to being his therapist's fault. Even if he knew that was logically not the case, it was easier to put the blame on his sessions.
Everyone seemed to feel the shift in energies. Food was being sent out late, and on more than one occasion did Castiel have to remind the staff to put the garnishes on.
“Breathe. And drink some water.” Anna said as she made her way up to Castiel’s side.
“You’re already a mom.” Castiel's mouth quirked up into his own version of a smile. Anna rolled her eyes and held out her water bottle for him to drink from.
Castiel was reminded that he was in need of finding a replacement for Anna soon. Each day her stomach seemed to grow and grow and he was worried she would burst right in the middle of a dinner rush one of those nights.
Balthazar had been on his case the past few weeks too. Each night was a new mouthful of how Castiel needed to make up his mind and vet the options that Balthazar had given him. Of course Castiel was as nitpicky as ever and wasn’t going to just settle for someone sub par.
He was secretly sad that Anna was going to be leaving. She could take his mood swings and was able to be a good mediator between him and the other line cooks when he was too particularly grumpy. She also was good at calling him out and keeping him grounded.
He was jostled from his thoughts by a loud clatter at the door. Meg was clearly in one of her own moods, and from the sounds of everything it had something to do with the same pervy customer from the other night.
“Jo, I’m telling you this guy won’t give up. It’s fucking disgusting, he’s a pig. Why does he keep coming back?”
“Uh, you want me to answer that seriously?” Jo asked from where she was adding a garnish to her own dishes to run out. “You let that skeeze ball look down your shirt and you wonder why he’s back for more?” She picked up her dishes and left to go deliver them.
Meg glared down at the line as though she could will the food to cook faster. She snatched each plate off the line as soon as they were set down, ready to be delivered. She mouthed something along the lines of, “gross perverted old man,” before turning around.
Right into the new dishwasher who was carrying a bin of plates needing to be cleaned. Meg cursed under her breath as the plates she’d grabbed went flying out of her hands and landed on the ground with a loud crash.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, you’re supposed to yell ‘behind’ if you’re behind someone!” Meg reemed into the guy and wiped away a bit of sauce that had splashed up onto her white shirt. “Great. This one’s ruined.”
Castiel glared at her, “Everyone watch where they’re going! That includes you too, Meg.”
Meg rolled her eyes and cast him a smirk of her own, “You got it Chef Clarence.”
Castiel ignored her and turned back to his line cooks, “Hold everything, I need 2 lobsters on the fly.”
“Yes, Chef!”
“I hope we don’t run out of lobster.” Anna joked from Castiel’s side. She knew he had the hook ups down at the docks, and she figured a bit of light humour might help lift the mood everyone was in.
As the first plate was getting finished the kitchen phone started to ring. Castiel was in no way prepared to answer it with anything less than pissed off, so he waved to the staff nearby to answer it.
“Someone answer that will they?”
Meg rolled her eyes and strolled up to the phone while Castiel continued to help plate the final dish from the two that had fallen. Castiel was leaning low and wiping the excess drops of butter off the side of the plate.
“Hey, uh...Clarence.” Meg said in such a somber tone that it had both Castiel and Anna turning their heads. “You might wanna take this.”
Castiel shook his head assuming it was Jimmy calling to tell him they were late. “If it’s my brother, tell him I’m busy right now and I’ll call him back.”
Meg held the phone against the palm of her hand and shook her head. Her sad expression stopped him and got him looking at her more seriously. “Clarence, you really want to take this one.” She pressed the phone into his hand as he walked up to her, puzzled by her attitude.
“Hello?” Castiel asked as he held the phone up to his ear.
“Hello, is this Castiel Novak?” He heard from the other end of the line. It was a voice he didn’t recognize.
“This is him, yes.” He turned away from the line so he could get some kind of privacy from the mayhem of everything, and to hear the person talking more clearly.
“Sir, I’m so sorry to inform you, but your brother and niece were in an accident.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion then. Castiel didn’t register dropping the phone, or running out of the kitchen to the back where his jacket was located. It didn’t register until he was halfway to the hospital that he wasn’t in the kitchen anymore.
The sooner he got to the hospital, the sooner he could see how bad it was and hope that Jimmy and Claire would still be able to enjoy their stay with him. Though something in his gut told him that things weren’t about to go the way he hoped.
That feeling was validated when he finally met with the doctor in charge of his brother and niece.
“Hi there, are you Mr. Novak?” The doctor asked.
“Yes, where’s my brother and niece? What happened?”
Castiel knew immediately what the doctor was about to say from the sad look they gave him. “I’m so sorry to inform you, Mr. Novak, but your brother didn’t make it. We did the best we could, but his injuries from the impact were too much and he died on the table.”
Castiel felt the wind being knocked out of him. He wanted to scream and cry, but years of compartmentalizing had him nodding and swallowing down his cries.
“And Claire?” He asked. “Has anyone told her yet?” He could feel his voice wavering as he spoke.
The doctor shook their head, “No we figured it would be best to come from family.”
Castiel nodded and looked into the room where his niece was currently sleeping while recovering from her own injuries. He felt sick when he thought about being the one to inform her of her dad’s death.
Hell even Castiel was still in shock. His brother who he’d been talking to earlier that morning was dead. They had just been talking...
“Can I stay with her?” Castiel asked, he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes.
The doctor nodded and offered to get a thermal and pillow for Castiel, but he declined and thanked them for their time.
Castiel chose the chair closest to the window so he could have some kind of view while he tried to sort his thoughts.
He thought back to the years of growing up with Jimmy. To when Jimmy had become a father and took custody of Claire when her mom left them. He thought about the family dinners over the holidays and how Jimmy’s laughter would fill the room.
Castiel fell asleep with the memory of his brother and niece smiling at him from the last time they took a trip over to visit him from Illinois.
He didn't sleep well.