literature

Fly Away Home - part 3

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Castiel lay awake in bed that night, finding sleep more difficult to come by than usual. He dangled and twirled the amulet in his fingers in the faint moonlight, his mind idly wandering to places he usually never bothered to go. He thought back to how Dean had looked at him, open and sincere, a fresh face that didn't hide under contrived politeness or uneasy indifference. And even after he'd seen his bruises, he still wanted to know him. It was more puzzling than that coloured cube he'd resolved that evening. Maybe he had a hidden agenda… No-one just wanted to be friends like that out of the blue, especially with him. He huffed and turned over in his bed to see Gabriel's outlined silhouette half covered under the sheets. He couldn't help think that if it weren't for him, his brother would have spiralled down hard drugs long ago. As it were, they both kept each other afloat in the sewer their mother had abandoned them in. He could clearly remember the day he figured it out three years ago.

"Gabriel?" he asked as his brother dabbed toilet paper imbibed with alcohol over his face. Gabriel's own face had a swollen black eye because he'd got in the way of the blow he received.

"Yeah?" he said as he tore some more toilet paper.

"She's nnnnot coming back, is she?"

He continued to dab at a particularly stinging cut and breathed.

"No."


That was when he knew that trust was a myth perpetuated by idiots who didn't know they were being conned yet. He wasn't even sure if his father really did die in an accident. Maybe he'd run off, too. And who could blame him? But not Gabriel. He could see he meant the world to him, perhaps wrongfully so. Maybe he was conning his own brother without even knowing it. He stared at the blank ceiling. Whatever Dean wanted, he'd find out soon enough.

---

As soon as recess rang, Castiel was nowhere to be found. Dean had to practically scour the yard like an idiot in search of the slippery kid. Maybe he didn't want to speak to him anymore. He shook his head, because dammit, he was entitled to know the answer to yesterday's question. Finally, he found him at the far end of the yard, under a tree, joggling a Rubix cube about. Of course he would naturally he would pick a secluded area… He ambled over to him and noticed he was still wearing that flimsy sweater from yesterday that had frayed at the elbows and hems. Even his jeans were torn at the knees and looked perennially muddy. He wondered if he wasn't cold, seeing as how his cheeks were rubbed red; but he looked perfectly oblivious to the world around him, even as he stepped into his light.

"Nice toy," he said to the  face pinched in concentration. "Did you pick it up from your trip to the eighties?"

The boy squinted up at him. "I-I-I got it ffffor my birthday," he said, a trace of hurt in his voice.

"Oh." He kicked himself. Hard. Well how was he supposed to know that? He tried to amend the faux pas. "It's just that, uh, your parents must really have it bad if all they went for was a Rubix cube." He sat down next to the boy.

"Mmmmmy parents are dead," the boy stated matter-of-factly, his eyes glued to the cube.

Foot, meet mouth. "Uh… Christ, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -- I didn't know. God, I'm so sorry…" he fumbled for an apology. And that's when he noticed the quivering twitch in the corner of the boy's lips. He exhaled. "You ass." His head hit the trunk. "You're such a jerk, you know that?" he said without true spite. "The dead parents card. Very clever."

The boy snorted, still eyeing the colourful squares that he gyrated and twisted into different patterns. "Well, it-it's not too far from the truth."

Dean turned to look at him, his head still resting on the trunk. "Is it now?"

"Mm-hm…" he hummed equivocally.

Dean huffed. "You're enjoying this aren't you? Being so mysterious and all." Castiel didn't answer and continued to fidget with the toy. He sighed. Maybe if he said a bit more about himself, he'd get him to reveal more. "You know," he started and leaned further into the trunk, "I have a little brother at home. His name's Sam, but I always call him Sammy. He's seven. Can you imagine that? Six years old when he lost his mom." He noticed Castiel's jaw twitch at that, and thought it best if he steered clear from the subject of mothers. "But our dad takes good care of us, so that's alright. Hey, you ever been to Disneyland before?" he hoped the change of subject wasn't too painfully evident.

The boy finally looked at him and narrowed his eyes. "What's that?"

"You don't know Disneyland?" Dean asked, shocked. He thought the whole world knew what Disney was. The boy's cheeks flushed in shame and he quickly returned to his cube. He really had a gift for putting his foot where it didn't belong… "Not that there's anything wrong with that," Dean said weakly.

Then Castiel was suddenly dangling something in his face. "This-this-this is yours," he mumbled and dropped it his lap.

Dean palmed it and exclaimed, "Hey! I was wondering where that went." He pursed his lips. So he'd stolen it… and given it back. Was this dude screwing with his head? "Uh… thanks? I guess. For giving it back."

"It's-it's worthless," he muttered under his breath, his eyes still on the cube.

Dean bristled and got up. He was starting to resent the guy's attitude. "Well, not to me it isn't." Castiel flinched at the sudden movement and instantly lifted his arms over his face, dropping the cube in the grass. Dean frowned. "Dude, it's okay," and sat back down and picked the toy up for him.

"I-I-I-I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mmmmean to say it l-like that. It's just… uh… it's just…" He huffed in frustration. "Why-why do you want to talk to me?" he asked, his face a sincere question.

"I dunno." Dean shrugged. "Why does anyone talk to anybody?" He handed the cube back to him. Castiel took it back, his eyes watchful. "I just think you're cool. Different from everyone else around here."

"Diff-different?" Castiel asked warily.

"Yeah, Cas. Totally different. And I mean it in the best possible way." He smiled and lay a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.

Castiel eyed the hand guardedly and mumbled, "Everyone thinks it in the worst way."

Dean was about to tell him that everyone should go do unholy things to themselves when the bell rang. The boys got up and headed back to class. And if their hands continually grazed each other along the way, neither of them did anything to remedy it.

---

"Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty! Ready or not, here I come!" squealed Sam as he turned around to face an empty garden. He scratched his head and muttered, "Why am I always the one stuck counting?" and headed over to peek behind the neighbour's hedge.

Dean sniggered behind the garden shed; Sammy was always afraid of approaching it because of the supposed monsters lurking inside. "He'll never want to come for us here," he told Cas who was crouched beside him.

After a short pause, Cas said, "Uh… Dean… uh… I-I-I just wanted to say, uh… you're different, too. You know… b-back when you said so to me at recess." He looked past him, avoiding his eyes. "And-and I mean it in a good way, too."

Dean's cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red at those words. Dammit, he wasn't a chick, so why did he feel hot air swell inside him and tickle his stomach like he was standing over a cliff? He rubbed clammy hands over his pants and cleared his throat. "Yeah… uh, thanks." Their hands were so close together on the ground, their knees almost touching… Castiel looked at him curiously, showing him those round, blue eyes. He swallowed and swiftly pecked him on the cheek.

-

Castiel's breath hitched in his throat as Dean lay soft lips on his wind-scrubbed cheek.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to… uh," Dean mumbled apologetically.

"It's-it's-it's okay." Castiel curled his fingers around Dean's hand, the hint of a smile in his voice. "It was nice."

Sudden footsteps stampeded over to them, and a little face frowned angrily at them. "I knew you'd be here! I just knew it! You're such a cheater, Dean," he whined, and put his hands on his hips to express his utmost disappointment.

What was worse was how neither of them even acknowledged his presence.

---
Part 1 [link]
Part 2 [link]
Part 3
Part 4 [link]

A little bit of schmoop before the deluge :P.
As usual, feedback produces butterflies in my tummy.
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Casey-Wirrwarr's avatar
so cute!

i love the little kiss. (: