Chapter Text
Track practice on Friday was unusually short, and with the first track meet being the next week, the coaches didn’t want to push too hard. Dean found Cas in the locker room afterwards and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Cas! You gonna be mad at me if I cut out early tonight?”
Cas smiled. “Would this have anything to do with Cassie Robinson?”
“Yeah,” Dean said.
“Much better than Bela, I approve. Go, have fun, we can work on our project tomorrow or Sunday,” Cas said.
“You’ll still come over, won’t you?”
“Of course. Unless Sam tells me he also has a date, in which case there’s little point. You know I’ll take any chance to come over.”
Dean looked speculatively at Cas. “Think your uncle would let you sleep over?”
“Gabriel doesn’t care what I do. He made it very clear when he took me in that as far as he’s concerned, I’m responsible for myself. I make my own decisions and look after myself,” Cas said.
“Cool!” Dean grinned. “Come over this weekend and hang out as long as you like.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose… what if your father comes home?” Cas asked.
Dean snorted. “As of last night, Dad was in Oregon. I’m pretty sure we don’t have to worry about him.”
“And Sam won’t mind?” Cas asked.
“You kidding me? Sam would love it!” Dean said.
“Sam would love what?” Sam asked as he came over, a slightly wary tone in his voice.
Dean slung his free arm around his brother. “I was just saying Cas should come over and spend the weekend hanging out with us. I’ve got a date tonight and I know you’re headed over to Rachel’s tomorrow for the biology thing…”
“Actually, I’m not,” Sam interrupted. “We’re like a week ahead of schedule, so we’re skipping tomorrow so Rachel can go to her cousin’s piano recital or something like that. So yeah, Cas, come on over, it’ll be nice to have you around. Who’s your date with, Dean?”
“Cassie.”
“Cheerleader Cassie?”
“Well, not anymore, unless she’s gonna cheer in college, but yeah,” Dean said.
Cas ducked out of Dean’s arm. “In that case, I accept the invitation. I should probably go home and get some things and let Gabriel know where I’ll be.”
“Want a ride?” Dean offered. “We’ll wait outside, that way you don’t have to carry a bag over.”
Castiel hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Thank you.” At his house, he was quick to gather up clothes and sketchbooks and supplies. Gabriel waggled his eyebrows when Cas told him the plan, but gave him some cash and instructions to make sure he and his boys had fun.
Once Dean left for his date, Sam pulled out a notebook and Cas his sketchbook. “Sam? Who do you hang out with at school?” Cas asked, remembering his conversation with Anna the other day.
“I, uh… I don’t, really,” Sam said. “In class I usually work with whichever Engel is in there with me, or Lisa Braeden for Latin, but for long breaks or lunch or whatever I’m usually on my own. I’m used to it, it’s how I’ve always been.”
“You don’t sit with Dean at lunch… is there a reason?” Cas asked.
Sam stared at his notebook. “I know Dean wouldn’t mind, since he’s asked me to at least once a week since the start of the year. But his friends wouldn’t be too happy about some upstart freshman dork sitting with them.”
“His friends have either gotten over the school outcast sitting with them, or moved on to sit somewhere else,” Castiel said. “I’m sure the same thing would happen for you, and I suspect Dean would rather have you with him than any of those people.”
“The school outcast?” Sam asked, looking up curiously.
“Me.” Castiel shifted a bit, settling in more comfortably. “Dean made it clear that he was not, in fact, giving me a choice, and the others at the table could either sit with both of us or neither, and if they chose neither, that was their problem, not his.”
“How are you an outcast?” Sam asked. “Me, I’m awkward and kind of shy and most of the time I’d rather hang out with a book than a person, but you… can’t these people see how amazing you are?”
Castiel’s pencil stopped as he stared over at Sam. Amazing was not a word he’d ever heard used to describe him. “You must be confusing me with someone else,” he said eventually. “There are five living exceptions to the general rule that paper and ink are far superior to people. I’m the weird kid with the home situation no one understands, who’s too smart for his own good.”
“As if there’s any such thing,” Sam scoffed. “But, you know… that’s me, too. Only with books instead of paper and ink.”
“Yours isn’t like mine, you just have a dead mother and a father who’s busier with work than with his family,” Castiel said. “Haven’t you ever wondered why I live with my uncle? Why I never talk about my parents or brothers?”
“Well, I didn’t know you had brothers,” Sam said, and Cas had to acknowledge that Sam had a fair point. “And, I mean, of course I’m curious, but Dean raised me better than to ask that kind of question.”
That made Castiel that much more comfortable in explaining the situation. “I ran away from home when I was thirteen, almost at the end of eighth grade. My father almost caught me, but Gabriel got to me first. He’d heard why I ran and offered to hide me here. My father comes to town himself about once a month, and sends various other relatives to ask about me in between. Gabriel misdirects or tricks them every time, but he keeps trying.”
“Wow, that’s… yeah, that’s way more complicated than mine,” Sam said.
Castiel waited, but eventually he realized Sam probably considered it the kind of question a well-mannered person didn’t ask. He went back to his sketch, letting the silence stretch out. It felt comfortable, except for the turmoil in Cas’s head as he tried to decide whether to clarify. “I ran away because Michael was going to lock me in the basement until I repented of my unholy nature and submitted myself to God’s purging and renewal.”
Sam looked up, dropping his pencil. “Feel free to ignore the question if you don’t wanna answer, but what the hell kind of ‘unholy nature’ makes it okay to lock your kid in the basement?”
“I’m gay.”
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Sam said as he picked up his pencil, voice dripping with disgust. “It’s just plain ridiculous, treating a thirteen-year-old kid like that over being gay. Hell, you knew at thirteen? That’s kind of awesome. Is that part of why you’re the school outcast?”
“No, people here don’t know, no one’s ever asked and I generally don’t go around volunteering information about my private life,” Castiel said. “Gabriel and Anna know, of course, and now you. That’s it. There are occasional rumors, but those are more about bullying me for being different in other ways than because anyone actually believes them.”
“Okay. Secret’s safe with me,” Sam promised.
“If someone asks you, you don’t have to lie, I wouldn’t if they asked me,” Castiel said. “Do you think I should tell Dean?”
Sam shrugged. “I can’t answer that, that’s your business. I can tell you that last September, he pulled me aside to tell me that he doesn’t give a shit what I identify as, as long as I’m safe and happy. If he doesn’t care if I’m gay, I can’t imagine he would possibly care if you are, he’s not the kind of asshole who’s going to get weird about having a gay male friend. But you’re the one affected here.”
“Are you?” Castiel regretted the question almost as soon as he asked it, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to take it back. Fortunately, Sam didn’t seem too upset.
“Dunno. I’m fourteen, I’ve never really put too much thought into it. I think I might be bi, but I don’t feel like I have to have some sort of definitive label at this point, you know?”
“Good point,” Castiel said, determinedly ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. This didn’t change anything. Sam was still Dean’s little brother, therefore Sam was still off-limits. “Anyway, my mom died when I was little. I have two younger brothers, both of whom also got ridiculous names: Balthazar and Uriel. Balt helped me escape, but I haven’t heard from either of them since I left home.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sam offered. “I can’t imagine not seeing Dean for three years. Especially over… Cas, forgive me for saying it, but your father is a great big bag of dicks.”
“No forgiveness is needed for stating the obvious and true,” Castiel said with a soft smile. “I don’t even really think of him as my father anymore. I think of myself as parentless. He’s Michael, my uncle’s brother, and a complete ass.”
Once again, a comfortable silence stretched as the two boys worked on their respective projects, and once again, it was Castiel who broke it, this time with a noise of frustration as he slammed his sketchbook closed and pulled out some homework instead. Sam looked up from his work. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been… remember Meg?” Sam nodded, so Castiel continued, “I was trying to draw her as an angel, but everything I tried kept making her look demonic. I want no part of any religion that would let a little girl go to Hell, even if it’s only art.”
“Ouch, yeah, sounds like you need a break,” Sam said sympathetically.
Cas looked at the book in his lap and smiled somewhat sheepishly. “Not many people do their math homework when their hobby is going poorly, I would imagine.”
Sam laughed. “No, probably not, usually it’s the other way around I would expect. I was just about to do the same thing though.”
“Oh?” Cas had assumed Sam was doing homework. He was intrigued.
“Yeah, I’ve kinda hit a wall, and usually switching and doing something else for a while helps. So, math,” Sam said.
That wasn’t what Cas was asking. “What are you doing?”
“I, uh…” Sam looked at his now-closed notebook, the faintest trace of red coloring his cheeks. “I write. Stories, poetry, whatever. I can’t decide how to end this story, so…”
Oh, this was just not fair. Was there no end to Sam’s amazing qualities? “What were you writing about just now?”
Sam’s slight flush deepened. “It’s, uh… that warrior angel you drew against the moon, remember how we’d talked about why he was like that? He didn’t want to destroy the nephilim because of his own kid? I’m writing his story. I’d planned on giving you a copy when I got it finished.”
Cas didn’t trust himself to speak. Sam wasn’t real. He couldn’t be. People like Sam just didn’t happen. Of course, it could be the universe taunting him – people like Sam do exist, but he couldn’t have them. “I look forward to reading it,” he finally trusted himself to get out.