Work Text:
December 4, 1954
Manhattan, New York, NY
Castiel checked his math twice before coming to a final charge. He hated messing up the prices and accidentally charging people too much for the things in the shop, especially since the price on everything had inflated once again. The mini-pianos had now gone from five dollars to six. He broke a sweat just thinking about having to buy a kid one of those for Christmas.
He looked up at the woman checking out, she had brown permed hair and a sharp red lip that framed her dazzling white smile. The blazer the dame was wearing was fuchsia with a matching pencil skirt. “What’s the damage?” she spoke, giving a nod of acknowledgment to the cash register.
“Three dollars and sixty-two cents, Ma’am.” He grimaced while saying the words, disgusted by how much a bag of candy, two Barbie dolls, a tin of Crayola crayons, and seven yo-yos could cost. Jesus, he was disgusted by how much everything cost these days.
He saw her wince but almost immediately her pearly white teeth were showing again. She looked down and rummaged through her bag, pulling out a small change purse and counting out the exact amount. Castiel could see that all that remained was a few nickels and pennies. She held out her hand, the coins on top of the crisp assortment of bills.
Castiel tensely took the money from her and distributed it in the correct slots in the tray of the cash register. “Have a nice day, Ma’am.” He said while sliding the drawer back inside of the machine, she turned to walk away before he said in a quiet but not inaudible voice, “Grab a few peppermint sticks on your way out.” She looked back and this time she met his eyes with a closed smile and her eyes glossy. He winked and turned slightly, coyly whistling while pretending to sort through rolls of dimes and quarters.
He waited until he heard the ring of the bell from the door closing before he lifted his head from the box of coins. Castiel looked around the shop. Shelves lined the white walls of the store, filled with mass-produced toys like plastic army men, Lincoln logs, marbles, play-doh, you name it, Biggerson’s sold it. There were a lot of displays of specially advertised toys, when a shipment of the more expensive toys was delivered to the business, sometimes a backdrop would come with the ordered stock. Castiel’s favorite was the display for the trains.
At the back of the store, there was a large wooden table. A singular toy locomotive was constantly chugging in a loop of plastic train tracks. The table was divided into four square sections, each being a season. Plastic trees lined the rail road and each were decorated ornamentally. In the fall section, the maple trees’ leaves were orange and red with a few yellow every now and then. In the winter, the dark evergreens had fake white snow dusted over the first few layers of leaves. In the summer, they were simply magnolia trees and dark green. And the spring section had an assortment of cherry blossom trees, white and pink petals painted onto the wooden table, as if they were blooming. There were two parallel tunnels that the battery operated train would go through, entirely invisible for a few seconds before coming out of the other side. Sometimes, kids would stand beside the tunnel and hold their hand in front of the tunnel so that the train could not exit. Castiel would quickly shoo them away, not wanting the toy to be ruined on his shift.
The check-out counter had a cherry red cash register, newly purchased, and glass apothecary jars, full of multicolored peppermint sticks and other candies, that lined the edge of the counter space. Castiel mentally noted to dock his pay ten cents for the peppermint sticks he told the woman to take. He looked at the jar to find that she only took one, but Castiel was still going to give Gabriel ten cents, even though each peppermint is one cent a pop. He loved him like a brother and this job was the only thing standing between him and the street, eating bread crusts once a week. Gabriel also provided Castiel with one of the apartments above the store. It was a bit small but he was the only one that was ever going to stay in it, so it didn’t really matter.
A little boy with medium length brown hair was standing on his tippy-toes, trying his hardest to extend his arm two inches to reach the shelf of army men tins. He gave up after thirty seconds of wriggling his fingers on the edge of shelf, trying to prompt a package to fall. He turned and decided to look at the stacked display of monkeys in a barrel. Castiel’s cerulean blue eyes followed him, a curious smile rose onto his lips. He took a liking to the boy almost instantaneously.
Castiel walked around the counter and briskly walked over to the small child. He was about half way there when the boy took one of the base barrels that was supporting dozens of other containers of the toys. His smile dropped as he watched the entire structure fall and to the little boy’s horror, it fell right on top of him. A wave of red plastic monkeys in a barrel entirely consumed the child for a moment. He let out and audible ‘oof’ as he fell back onto the black and white houndstooth carpet. Castiel hurried over to the boy and knelt beside the immobile pile of red with four limbs sticking out of the sides.
“Ouch.” A barely audible voice said from within the small hill. Castiel chuckled and used his right hand to remove a couple barrels to reveal the boy’s face. He had hazel eyes and a flat mole on the left side of his nose, right below the apple of his, slightly red, cheeks. He let out an aggravated gust of air towards his hair, which was in his eyes, which simply lifted the strands up and inch and back down to his eyes again.
“Maybe you should pick one from the top next time?” Castiel laughed. He extended his hand to the boy, that was still lying immobile on the floor. His small hand grabbed his own and Castiel pulled him up to a sitting position. “What’s your name?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“Sam.” He said in a high-pitched voice. Castiel estimated he was about five or six years old. Sam brushed the rest of the red plastic barrels off of him, uncovering his slightly dirty yellow plaid shirt and his one size too big overalls.
“I’m Castiel. Nice to meet you, Sam.” he said, standing up from his former crouching positon. “You want to help me pick these up?” Castiel said, his voice in no way scornful. He wasn’t really mad that Sam knocked over the giant tower of barrels. In fact, there was nobody in the store besides Sam and Castiel so he didn’t really have anything to do.
“I’m sorry.” Sam apologized, sniffling as he stood tall, well to about Castiel’s hip. He assessed the mess at his feet. There were barrels everywhere within a ten-foot radius.
“It’s okay, Sam.” Castiel patted him on the back, assuring him everything was fine. “How about you get all the barrels that rolled away, and I will stack them again. Is that ok?”
“Sure, mister.” Sam trotted away, after a barrel that went all the way back to the train display. Castiel returned his gaze to the now empty tabletop, once being the foundation for the two-foot-tall stack. Castiel got back down on his knees and started rebuilding the first level of the pyramid. He reached down and grabbed one barrel and another and another until half of the tower was standing again, perfectly stable.
About ten minutes had passed when he stopped. He reached down and couldn’t grab another barrel, his fingers brushing the soft carpet instead. Castiel looked down at the floor and his eyes searched the floor for another plastic container but he came up fruitless. He looked for Sam next.
Sam was currently ducking under the counter getting the last barrel, his arms full to the brim. He dropped five each time he picked up one. His left arm was currently trying to hold all of them at once while his right was desperately reaching for the last one, which had rolled under the lip of the desk.
Castiel stood up again, about to approach the counter, where he suspected Sam was, when the front door of the store burst open. The cold of the December day drifted in for a moment before the door swung closed, assisted by a well-shined saddle oxford. Castiel looked towards the door and his eyes rested upon a tall, young man. He wore twilled grey pants that were cuffed at the ankles, a white polo, and a black bomber jacket, that the collar was sitting on top of. It didn’t look very warm if Castiel was honest with himself, but the stranger didn’t show any readable signs of being cold. He did however, look worried.
The stranger strode confidently towards Castiel and stopped when he was about a foot away from him. “Have you seen my Sammy?” He huffed the words out, he concluded that this person had been running around, searching for the little boy that had come into his shop.
Castiel nodded. He pointed towards the counter of the store, which Sam conveniently poked his head above, almost on cue. He walked around the counter and went over to the table, dropping the dozens of barrels on the floor next to the reconstructed tower, before striding over to the stranger and hugging him. He was also only about to his hip, but he placed his arms over top of the Sam’s shoulders.
“Buddy, you gotta’ tell me where you are goin’ first before you run off. I almost thought the troopers had gotten your sorry butt. I don’t know what I would have done then.” The stranger had looked down at Sam before returning his gaze to Castiel. “I’m Dean.” He let go of Sam and slung an arm around his shoulder as he moved to his side. He offered his right hand to Castiel, which he took.
“I’m Castiel.” He replied, staring deeply into Dean’s vibrant green eyes.
“Look, Cas, I’m sorry about all of this. It won’t happen again. I work at the end of the block, at my shoe shining stand.” That explained his polished shoes. Castiel could see his own reflection in them.
“Don’t worry about it, Dean.” Castiel kindly stated, fully meaning the words. “Sam was a delight. I wouldn’t mind if he came around sometimes.” To be honest, Castiel really enjoyed Sam’s presence. It didn’t bother him in the slightest that he knocked down a large display, he had already read the paper this morning so there wasn’t anything occupying his time.
“You sure about that, Cas? Sammy, here, can be a real trouble maker.” Dean smirked, briefly looking down at Sammy before returning his gaze. “Aren’t you, little brother?” Sam looked up at Dean and let out a small giggle of acknowledgement.
“Sam is your little brother?” Castiel asked, ignoring Dean’s nickname. He examined the two. They looked almost nothing alike. Sam was brunette and had blue-ish, Green-ish, Brown-ish eyes and Dean was blonde, had freckles, and had green eyes.
“Yep. Momma’ died when Sam was a baby and Dad left a while ago. Now, I’m taking care of him. Doesn’t matter though. The past is the past.” He shrugged, his arm falling off of Sam’s shoulder. “We should go. Sorry for bothering you, Cas.” Dean smirked again,” See you around?”
“Of course, stop by whenever you want to. I work Monday through Saturday from nine to five. And you did not bother me at all. You made my day more interesting is all.” Castiel turned to the counter and walked to the jar with the peppermint sticks. He counted nine and put them in one of the plastic bags that were supposed to hold candy. He walked back over and handed them to Dean. “On the house.”
“Thank you, but we can’t take these.” Dean gestured to the bag and pushed it back into Castiel’s hands.
“Oh, be quiet will you? You were a delight to have in the store, so take the free candy and leave.” Castiel looked down at Sam for a moment. His gaze was locked on the bag’s contents. He could practically see drool coming from his mouth. Castiel chuckled, “Enjoy the candy. And come back again.” A bright smile was now on his face. He walked back to the counter and looked back to see Dean and Sam still standing there. Dean also had a wide, toothy smile painted onto his features. “Go on.” He flicked a hand at the door.
“See you again, Cas.” Dean reluctantly turned and handed Sam the bag of peppermint sticks. He slowly walked to the door, letting his little brother get ahead of him. Dean turned his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and honest to god winked. He walked out the door before Castiel could do anything.
A couple and a young girl walked into the store a moment later, and then he knew it was too late. But, Dean had said that he worked at the end of the block. On the contrary, if he was shining shoes, Dean probably left around noon. It was still around ten thirty in the morning so Castiel visibly relaxed, a deep sigh of relief coming from his body.
The customers strolled around for a while before coming to the counter, with a barrel of monkeys and a tin of pink play-doh. Castiel greeted them with a charming smile and rung up their total. His eyes flicked over to the mess of red barrels still on the floor, and instead of grimacing, he smiled.