The Pride of Your Heart Part 2
There's been some questions on whether the Q/A is open: it is, open indefinitely! It's been great fun answering questions and I'm deeply honored anyone has read and invested in this little corner of fandom to ask! So go ahead, ask anything you want. I will answer :)
***
John F. Kennedy airport was an entirely different beast from Kansas.
Dean was homicidal by the time they reached their luggage, the fast-moving passengers-and New Yorkers unapologetic shoving and racing for cabs-had worn whatever little nerves hadn’t been burned through on the flight.
“Where’s Sammy?” Dean barked, just as a man knocked him half sideways.
“I’m not sure. Let’s find Gabe.”
“We’re here for ten seconds and we lost Sammy?”
“I’m sure he just stepped to the side.” Cas handed Dean his suitcase and took his arm, guiding him to a less busy section of the terminal.
“Where the hell is everyone running too? And why is every chick here wearing heels?” Another man, this one in a suit and vest, slammed Dean’s arm while staring at his Blackberry. “Keep running, Gordon Gekko!”
“Dean-”
“Hey!” Sam muscled his way through a few passengers. “Sorry about that, there was a line.”
“Where the hell were you?” Dean barked.
“Went for water. Here,” Sam pulled out a bottle of Pepsi and a bag of Combos. Dean’s face lit up.
“Pepperoni Pizza? Really?”
“I didn’t know they made them anymore, but they had them over there.”
Dean tore into the bag and started munching, all ill-will toward New York forgotten. Cas mouthed ‘thank you’ at Sam, who gave him a knowing smile back.
“We should look for Gabriel,” he said.
“Holy crap,” Dean said around a mouthful of Combos. “Taste this Sammy-it’s childhood.”
“In a sec,” Sam said, artfully blocking a few hurried passengers from slamming into his brother. It was one of those seamless Winchester moments where they silently did something the other wasn’t even aware he needed, and Cas smiled to himself watching them.
“Seriously, dude,” Dean said, and abruptly shoved a handful of his treat into Sam’s mouth.
“Dea-” Sam let out a muffled wail as his brother’s hand clamped over his face.
“Chew.”
“Friggin’ ‘erk.” Sam’s eyes suddenly widened and he stopped in his tracks. “Oh...wow. Wow.”
“Told ya.”
“I wonder if we can buy them in bulk here.”
“Two words: internet.”
“That’s one word.”
“Since when?”
“Cas is that Gabe?”
Cas turned in the direction he pointed and spotted a man in a baseball cap, black t-shirt, and jeans, holding a Starbucks cup, scruff running over his chin and cheeks, searching the crowd with hardly any enthusiasm. It took him a moment to realize that yes, this was his brother: he hadn’t seen Gabriel look so drained in years. He held up his hand in greeting, and a few seconds later, his brother spotted him. He started to smile, and then a look of clear shock came over his face, though he quickly checked it as he walked to meet them.
“Hey kid,” he said, giving Sam a one-armed hug. “Thought you were just texting me Cas’s time. Didn’t realize it’d be a full-house.” Cas loved him for trying to infuse his normal cheer into it, but it fell hopelessly flat.
“Gabe,” Cas said, and his brother pulled him close, uncharacteristically gentle.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he sighed, and gave him one more squeeze before separating. “Dean, good to see you again.”
“Listen,” Dean said, his voice unusually soft for anyone outside of the three of them, “we know you asked Cas to come alone, and we know that it wasn’t personal. We don’t want to cause drama, and I have no problem lying about who I am if that’s what it takes. But you have to understand that there’s no way we were going to sit at home and let him ride this out solo.”
Gabe sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t. Hell, I’m grateful. And for what it’s worth...I’ll do all I can to steer you clear of the vultures.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam said softly.
“Circle of life, champ.” Gabe managed his first genuine smile of the day. “Alright, we’re not the ones who bit it. Come feast your eyes on my wheels.”
Sam and Cas loaded their bags into the trunk while Gabe boasted shop-talk to Dean. Sam gave Cas’s arm a gentle squeeze before calling “little brothers up front, big ones in the back!” and beating his big brother to the passenger seat.
"Gabe's a big brother!" Dean barked.
"He's got older ones!"
"And Cas is a little one!"
"Cas has me." Sam grinned and fastened his seatbelt. Dean huffed and opened the back door.
“You guys ever been out this way before?” Gabe asked.
“Nope,” Dean said, trying to cram his legs in behind Gabe’s seat. Sam’s knees were practically up around the dashboard, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Awesome. Then I’ll take the scenic route.” He tossed a wink at Cas. “Buckle up, Gabe’s Angels!”
Gabe hit the road at his usual speed-breakneck. Even Dean flinched a few times, though Sam seemed too absorbed in the city views to notice.
“How’s that feel, Deano?” Gabriel beamed. “Like you’re a seagull over the Pacific, right?”
“Dean hates flying,” Cas mumbled. Dean pushed Sam’s bottle of water into his hand, and Cas took a relieved sip, grateful to look busy.
“You guys all crashing at mine? I don’t mind, we can figure out the space thing, but I’ve gotta warn you-I own a full bar, and I plan on drinking it.”
“We’ll get a hotel,” Cas said quickly.
“I can get you into the W. That’s only a short ride to the house. By the way, Ralph’s got an extra car and driver with Ma, to run anyone anywhere. So they can get you when needed.” Gabe glanced in the rearview mirror. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dean, but...not sure if you should swing by the mothership just yet.”
“That’s up to Cas,” Dean said. “Sammy, Jesus!”
Sam was leaning out the window, hair everywhere, devouring the view like an enthusiastic pup.
“Sam! Get your big-ass head inside before someone knocks it off!” Dean barked.
“I can’t believe it! It looks like...like TV!”
“That’s the real deal, baby boy,” Gabe chuckled, than cut over two lanes to get Sam closer. “The epicenter of Planet Earth, right there.”
“Sam I swear to God if you lose your head, I’m sewing it back on just so I can kick the shit out of you.”
“Everything’s so tall.” Sam pulled his head back inside the car. “I don’t know if I’d want to live or work on the top floors.”
“That’s prime real estate. On clear days, you can see clear into ladies bedrooms in other states!”
“Yeah, but...even after...you know...September 11th?”
“Kid, when those towers went down, so did real estate. Lou was on the front lines of that. Ten years later, prices are back to normal, and he’s made bank.”
“Were you in the city that day, Cas?”
“Sammy,” Dean hissed.
“We all were.” He offered a gentle smile to his friend. “But we weren’t in any danger, Sam.”
The younger Winchester seemed to relax at that, staring out over the water and the cluster of high-rises.
“It’s hard to believe...how it’s so beautiful. Even after everything. It’s just so beautiful.”
Cas stared out over the highway, the gleaming skyscrapers and the sun catching the tops of the choppy water, and realized he hadn’t felt that way about New York in a long, long time. He tried to look at it through Sam’s eyes, but all he saw was scheming and plots and arguments, hundreds of floors of them. He wondered, vaguely, which floor his father was on, and where, until he felt eyes on him. He glanced up and saw Gabe glancing at him rearview mirror, sharp and stressed. Could practically feel him thinking.
They don’t know what they’re getting into.
You’re here for us, not for you.
No one’s going to let you get away with this.
Dean turned, glanced at Cas, followed his eyes to Gabe’s, and stretched his arm across the back of seat, folding Cas in with it.
“Alright, Big Apple,” he smirked. “Bring it.”
***
With Dean’s charm and Cas’s credit card, they managed to find two rooms with a door between them. Gabe was frowning at his phone when they told him the news, and said “Ralph told me to get back to Ma...and he wants to know where you’re staying.”
“You can tell them,” Cas said.
“The hell’s Sammy now?” Dean grumbled.
“He’s checking street views around the lobby.” Gabe’s face turned fond. “We gotta get the kid out more, Cas. He’s about to blow a gasket.”
“I know.” He managed a small smile at his elder brother. “I wish we were here under better circumstances.”
“Well this will all be still standing once this shit washes off the fan.” Gabe glanced back to his blaring phone. “Damnit, Ralph’s having triplets. I gotta get back to the flagship. You comin’ with?”
Cas swallowed, hard. He hadn’t seen his mother in nearly three years. And he knew she’d expect him to be staying at the family home. And like it or not, now was not the time to bring Sam and Dean.
Fortunately, he was saved by another text, and Gabe’s “Nevermind...Ma’s going to bed. Ralph wants me on hysteria-watch so he can go help Mike.” He shoved the phone in his back pocket. “You guys good?”
“We’re fine,” Dean said. “You do what you gotta, and let us know if we can make a milk run or two, okay?”
Gabe smiled and abruptly hugged Dean. “I’m glad you’re too stubborn to let him come out here alone.”
“I’m glad I got to taste those wheels,” he said, giving him a reassuring thump on the back. Gabe turned to Cas and hugged him again.
“Brace yourself, kiddo,” Gabriel murmured. “Tomorrow’s going to be rough.”
“I know,” Cas managed, and squeezed his brother back.
“I’ll text you guys the details. Think the funeral’s set for 10:00, and a reception thing to follow.” He looked a little uneasy once more. “I’m not sure, but knowing Ma, she’s going to want the lot of us to go in a group together, so the press can get pics. Dean, you and Sam may want to hang back.”
“Whatever Cas wants.”
“I’m sorry people suck.”
Dean laughed at that. “So am I.”
Gabe thumped Cas on the arm and made his way out the door. Cas turned and saw Sam striding toward them, a map in his hand.
“Sorry, someone started talking to me about tourist traps. I can’t believe how many people are out there! And a cop on a horse rode by. I’d think the horses would freak with all the people and traffic, but they didn’t seem to care at all. Where’s Gabe?”
“He had to get back to Cas’s Mom.” Dean turned to him. “You want to head upstairs?”
“Cas, did you want to go with him? Dean and I could check us in.”
“No, my mother is going to rest. If she feels up to it, I’ll go later. Let’s just go upstairs.”
Dean slipped a light hand on his back on the elevator. Cas didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t necessary: he was still, blessedly, numb. Seeing Gabe had made things a little more real, but not much. His father had been absent for so often that not seeing him didn’t trigger any of his own anxiety. With any luck, the rest of his family would be too distracted to notice that Cas hadn’t come alone.
Their rooms were on the twenty-third floor, and no sooner were they inside that Sam was glued to the windows, separating from his own only long enough to investigate Cas and Dean’s. While Dean attacked the mini-bar and started fiddling with the remote control, Cas answered Sam’s questions about their surroundings.
“That’s the edge of the Central Park, there,” he explained. “That’s where the police-horses congregate. And the carriage rides, of course.”
“Where’s Wall Street?”
“Much farther down, at the tip of the island.”
“And where’s your family home?”
“Uptown, West 86th Street.”
“Did you get lost a lot as a kid?”
“We had a driver.”
“Am I asking too many questions?”
“Of course not,” Cas smiled and laid a hand on his friend’s arm. “We’ll take a walk later, and I’ll show you around.”
Dean swore behind them. “Cas! I think I just ordered a porn.”
“Dean, ew!” Sam wailed.
“I was trying to watch sports!” His eyes lit up. “Dude, lesbians! Here,” he handed Cas the remote. “Save it for later.”
Sam closed his eyes and covered his ears as a knock came at the door. Cas turned off the television and shook his head.
“You’re terrible,” he said.
“Shutup,” Dean popped open a bag of M&Ms. “Sammy, get the door!”
“Can I look?”
“It’s fine, Sam, I’ll get it.”
Sam glared at his brother, who tilted the bag in his direction as a peace offering. Cas unhooked the chain-lock on the door and opened it, expecting a maid or similar hotel employee.
What he found was Raphael.
Dressed in a dark suit and tie, hair combed back and gelled, with a man with dark skin and eyes by his side. His brother looked more fit than Cas remembered him, and his hair appeared longer and darker, but his eyes were the same: dark, laser-sharp, and unfeeling.
“Hello, brother,” he said.
“Ralph...Gabriel just said he’d heard from you.”
“I texted him from the car. One of us should be with our mother, don’t you think?” He glanced over Cas’s shoulder to where Dean had scrambled off the bed. “Was it impossible to come alone?”
“Where he goes, we go,” Dean said, tilting his chin up in slight defiance.
“You are aware that there is to be a family funeral? Now is hardly the time to leave the closet, Castiel.”
“What do you want, Raphael?” Cas snapped as Sam muttered “Castie-what?” to Dean.
“First, meet my associate, Vincent Virgil. Vincent, Cas.” He looked past his younger brother to the Winchesters. “You’ll excuse us. We have urgent family business to discuss. I understand there’s a cheap diner several avenues over.”
“Then why don’t you and Mini-Me stroll on over. Think there’s a special on dickwad pie.”
“Dean!” Sam hissed. Raphael smiled.
“Michael warned me you were charming, but he never mentioned clever.”
“And Mikey never mentioned you at all. Lou and Gabe and the parents, but you were left clean out of the equation. Guess that’s the story of your life, huh?”
Ralph’s jaw locked. Cas turned quickly to the Winchesters.
“Why don’t you wait for me next door.”
“We’re fine right here.”
“I’m afraid you’re not,” Raphael snapped. “While you may be entitled enough here in this unfortunate state to some benefit of my brother’s hard-earned wealth, none of it will carry over back in your home town. So whatever delusions of luxury you’re envisioning with my brother’s demise, I’m sorry to report they won’t hold up as legitimate. Even if you wear the Ruby Slippers and wish for it, as I understand they’re want to do in Kansas.”
Dean’s entire frame tensed, and only Sam’s firm, broad hands on his elder brother’s shoulders kept him from lunging. Cas quickly crossed the room.
“Dean, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you,” he whispered.
“It’s working.”
“Please, just go next door. Let me handle this.”
“The hell I will.”
“You came here for me. This is what I need you to do for me. I know how to handle them. And when I’m done...that’s when I’ll need you. Both.”
Sam prodded Dean toward the door. “C’mon,” he murmured. “I told Ellen we’d call her when we were settled.”
Dean reluctantly allowed his brother to lead him through the open door between their rooms, where Sam gave Cas a reassuring nod before closing the door behind them.
“So,” Raphael said, stepping into the room while Vincent stood just inside the entryway, “that’s him.”
“Dean. His name is Dean.”
“And the tall one?”
“Sam.”
“The junkie.”
Cas gripped the seat. “Why are you here, Raphel? Gabe told me you needed to go and help Michael.”
“I am helping Michael,” he said, setting his briefcase down on the corner desk and taking one of the two seats. “I come in peace, Cas, believe it or not. That’s an issue with the lower class-they’re sore-tempered.”
“Dean only gets that way to people who insult him or his family.”
Ralph cocked an eyebrow. “He appears to have rubbed off on you. And I mean that in a strictly Christian sense, of course.” He held up a hand. “But enough of that. You know well enough how Lou and I feel on the subject of lifestyle choices. What concerns us here is our father’s legacy.”
Cas sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you. Or anyone else. I know you don’t approve, but can you at least not insult us?”
“Apologies. I haven’t slept.” The elder Morgan popped open his briefcase and pulled out several large legal documents: Cas recognized the standard blue backing paper and the seal of his brother’s law firm. “The estate is, as you imagine, slightly overwhelming. The will is intensely complicated. I’ve taken the liberty of untangling it into manageable chunks.” He produced a stack of papers and set them on the table, taking a seat across from Cas. “All you have to do is sign, and Vincent here will serve as witness.”
“What am I signing?”
“Simple finalization in order to close out everything in father’s name and transfer it to our control.”
“Shouldn’t this be done with his attorneys present?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I am an attorney, Castiel.”
“I know that, but this...seems hurried.”
“Leaving massive amounts of money unsupervised requires haste.” Raphael handed him a pen and pointed to a line with his formal, full name typed below. “Go on.”
Gabe, Lou, Raphael, and Michael had all signed. Even their mother’s signature lay to the left of theirs. All that was left was his own.
He picked up the document and flipped to the first page. Raphael’s hand shot out and seized his.
“What are you doing?”
“Reading it.”
“I don’t have time for this. Just sign.”
Cas sat up straighter. “I’m not signing anything before I’ve read it.”
“It’s all in legalese. You won’t understand a word of it.”
“I’m going to read it, Raphael.”
His brother huffed and sat back.
“Is there anything I can bring you, sir?” Vincent asked.
“No, thank you. Please check in with the office.”
“I’ll step outside.”
Cas settled back, pen in hand and began to make his way through the pages. Raphael pulled out his Blackberry and began typing furiously. At some point, Vincent stepped back into the room and handed his boss a page of neatly written notes. Next door, Dean let out a shout of clear joy, indicating he'd finally figured out how to watch sports, and Sam yelled for him to keep his voice down. Cas would have smiled if his stomach wasn’t slowly turning the further he read. He didn’t need to be a lawyer to understand what his brothers were up to: and why Raphael had rushed Gabriel out the door.
“Satisfied?” his brother asked.
“According to this...you’ll be made Chairman of all the family foundations,” Cas said slowly.
“Yes.”
“And Michael and Lou agreed to that?”
“Lou doesn’t believe in charity and philanthropy, as you know. And Michael is busy enough as it is.”
“But according to this,” Cas flipped the pages, “Lou will be put in charge of all the investments.”
“And?”
“Michael won’t have a say in any of it.”
“Michael has plenty of his own businesses to attend to. He’ll have hospitals to run.”
Cas sat back and lowered his pen. “Is this the deal you struck with Lou? You split the estate down the middle?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Raphael snapped. “Michael had ample time to review these documents. Since we three are the only ones concerned with running the estate, it makes sense that we each take control of a portion of it.”
“Michael would never sign away his say on the governance of these funds. All his work has been towards keeping it together, the way Dad did. The investments feed the foundations and the hospitals, and the hospitals’ reputation feeds the investments. You’re undoing all of that.”
“This is what our Father agreed to.”
“This isn’t from his law office. These are from yours.”
Ralph turned red. “Michael personally invited you to participate in the management of the estate, and you refused him. Now you care?”
“I care that you’re taking advantage of his grief by getting him to sign off on papers he clearly didn’t review!”
“From what I heard, you threw him off your porch and told him never to return.”
Cas ignored him. “Do you really think Lou will give you a fair share? How do you plan on supporting these foundations with no income to feed them? You just said Lou doesn’t support charity-why would he finance philanthropic funds?”
“Because he and I agree on a new mission. The world is changing, Castiel. American economics is in danger. Our very way of life is now seen on something evil by those who refuse to work for what they have.”
Cas sat back, suddenly nauseous. “You don’t intend to fund the hospitals. You’re going to turn these organizations political.”
“I’m going to make my own name known. I’m going to raise the Morgans to a new level of esteem.”
“And in turn, you’re going to pave the way for Lou’s international investments.”
“We’re going to join with those who support our vision and take it overseas. We’re going to invest in the global economy.”
“You’re going to join the boards of every super conservative think-tank you can and buy up cheap deals in the making, and you’re going to abandon all the work our Father did to bring healthcare to the underprivileged. Not without my permission,” Cas seized the last page and tore it in half. “I won’t sign off on this-on any of it. And without my agreement, you can’t revise the will.”
“This isn’t up to you!”
“You witness this,” Cas snapped at Vincent. “I refuse to sign. And if Michael knew what you were doing, he’d never have signed either.”
“Now you care about Michael? About any of us-any of this?”
“I’ve always cared. I just couldn’t take this...this backstabbing, this cruelty! Michael is our brother-doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“I didn’t abandon the family, Castiel!” Raphael slammed his fist onto the table and leered over his younger brother. “I stayed here, and I paid my dues under the suffocating scrutiny of Michael and the unpredictable insanity of Lou. I took control of the maze of the family finances and I don’t intend to waste a second more of my life answering to anyone, let alone men whose only claim to superiority is birth order!”
“I. Won’t. Sign.”
“You will. You will, or those little minions of yours will know where you came from, and know what we’re capable of.”
Cas shot to his feet. “You threaten my family-”
“We are your family!”
“-and I will use my rights to the estate, and all my finances, to bring to light everything immoral and borderline illegal you and Lou and Michael have been carrying out for all these years.” He locked his eyes on his elder brother’s. “I will bring down this house, do you understand?”
“You’d be damning yourself along with it--for what? Them? They are nothing-they are creatures.”
“Get. Out.”
“You’ll regret this, Castiel.”
“Get. Out!”
Raphael shoved the papers in his briefcase, slammed it shut, and stormed to the door, which Vincent silently opened and held. He turned on the threshold, eyes dark with rage. “You know when I last spoke with our father? Two days ago. He told me what he needed, and I carried it out. When we lay him to rest tomorrow, I will stand by his grave and know that I did all he ever wanted. I was everything he ever wanted. Lou and Michael will feel the same. You and Gabriel shouldn’t even come. He wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
Cas dug his hand into the table edge to keep from swaying. “What he wants no longer matters,” he managed.
“You shamed him, Castiel. You have shamed us all. You remember that when you lay with that family of yours. Whatever loyalty you show them doesn’t atone for what you’ve done to us.”
And he was gone.
Cas sank into his chair, staring at the door, head and stomach reeling. All the old feelings of his life here came racing back.
He was no match against his big brothers.
He couldn’t outwit them, out plot them, out think them.
He couldn’t make his mother happy. He couldn’t make his father proud.
He couldn’t make Rachel marry him. He couldn’t make his colleagues into friends.
He couldn’t protect Sam and Dean.
“Hey,” Dean poked his head in, glancing around the room. “Heard the door slam. You okay?”
“Something’s happening.”
Dean frowned, said something over his shoulder to Sam, and shut the door between their rooms. “What?” he asked, looking around warily.
“I’m not sure.” Cas launched to his feet and went for his suitcase. “We should leave.”
“Whoa, whoa-hold on. Talk to me.”
“Lou and Raphael are making some play for chunks of the estate while Michael’s distracted.”
“Gabe?”
“He doesn’t take an interest in these things.”
“Okay, so...shouldn’t you get on the horn to Mikey?”
“No. Whatever’s happening is already started, and believe me, the fallout will be ugly.”
“Okay...”
“We should go. Immediately.”
“Cas, listen to me.” Dean shut Cas’s suitcase and leaned close. Cas ducked his eyes. “You’re tired, you’re jet-lagged, you’re stressed, and you’re not even sure what’s happening.”
“I’m in their way, Dean.”
“What are they gonna do, huh? Put out a hit?”
“Don’t underestimate my brothers. They can and they will wreck anything to get what they want. And I can’t protect you and Sam out here. Which means we should go.”
Dean spoke slowly. “You let them chase you away from your Dad’s funeral, and you’re going to regret it the rest of your life.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.”
“Then you and Sam go home, and I’ll meet you in a few days.”
“Not happening.”
“I’m serious, Dean.”
“So am I.”
“If you don’t than we’re through.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Even Cas could admit that was a pathetic bluff, and he sank onto the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress. Dean sat beside him and placed a gentle hand on his leg.
“Look-this is a maximum overdrive situation, I know. We’ll just do the funeral, make a brief appearance at the reception, and then haul ass back to Aunty Em. Okay?”
Cas put his own hand over Dean’s. “I have a terrible feeling,” he managed.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“You’re not invincible, Dean.”
“Try me.”
Cas smiled, exhaustion running through him. Dean rested his forehead briefly against Cas’s temple, than gave his shoulder a reassuring thump.
“C’mon. If we don’t take Sammy for a walk he’s gonna rip up the furniture and pee on the floor. Air, food, and we’ll call it an early night.”
“I won’t be able to sleep.”
“We’ll see about that.” Dean smiled, but there was none of his usual suggestive nature to it. “C’mon. Let’s go round up Sammy.”
***
Sam had called Ellen, found memorial information online, mapped where they would need to go in the morning, written out a schedule, called Anna with information on where to send donations in lieu of flowers, left messages with Andy and Missouri, and unpacked all their suits, making sure they were in good condition for the morning.
“I checked the weather too. It might be a little cloudy, but no rain.”
“You are the biggest overachiever,” Dean said.
“And you have to wear a tie. I packed extra.”
“I’m going to wear a Godamned tie!”
“Cas, do you feel up to taking a walk?” Sam was clearly trying to downplay his excitement, and it was so endearing Cas forgot all about Raphael and smiled back.
“Of course. Let’s, and we’ll find dinner on the way.”
Taking the Winchesters out on the streets of New York went as expected-Dean was a tense, grumpy, surly grumbler while Sam was starry eyed and blissfully ignorant of the bumps and jostles from pedestrians. Cas split his energy between trying to keep Dean from punching passerby and explaining to Sam all he knew about the city. They found a bistro that sold burgers and fries-for prices that launched Dean into a lecture on the idiocy of overpricing and inflation-and hearty salads that Sam and Cas ordered over Dean’s ranting. The three split a large slice of New York Cheesecake before Dean paid the bill and had a heart-attack over the tip.
“Twenty percent?” he hissed. “Dude, the salad had Parmesan, not gold dust!”
“That’s the standard New York rate, Dean.”
“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Sam beamed.
“Well than hop in a basket and run from Miss Gulch, Toto, because this here? Is insane.”
After Dean caved and tipped, the three took a walk around their hotel, skirting along the edge of the park, taking in the shop windows and traffic. Sam would stride ahead of them, then circle back with questions and reports on what he’d observed, than take off again, only to double back moments later. With Sam stronger and healthier, he had to start working travel into their schedules: he had more than enough time banked up, and Dean could always swap shifts if need be. Sam’s awe and wonder at everything around them was so sweet and genuine, Cas felt something stirring in himself he hadn’t felt in ages-nostalgia.
He could remember playing in parks with Gabriel and even Michael, when he was young. Going to the zoo, and museums. Plays and concerts. Visiting his father’s office. He remembered Michael taking him to the gigantic Toys R Us in Times Square, and to the Planetarium uptown. He remembered Gabe dragging him out to Coney Island and Lou holding him up so he could ring the opening bell at the stock exchange. He could remember his mother kneeling beside him in medieval section of the Metropolitan and pointing to a gigantic picture of the angels, explaining that, while his brothers were named after the most powerful (and the greatest artists who ever lived), he had the ability to trump them all.
“Castiel was the angel of Thursday,” she had explained. “That means no matter what was said and done the rest of the week, he had the power to turn it all around.” She’d put her arms around him and held him close. “When your big brothers seem too much...you remember that, Castiel. One day will always belong to you.”
***
While Sam studied the map of Central Park, Cas was seized with the overwhelming urge to take Dean’s hand. Dean looked down, than up, startled, and Cas could read the dude what the hell? in his face, but he quickly schooled it and squeezed gently back. He and Dean didn’t do this in public, ever. The plane had been a rare exception, with terror backing their grip. But now, relaxed and surrounded by people, hand-holding was silently forbidden.
Cas had just as many qualms about public affection as Dean, and the silent ban had never bothered him. But standing there, so far removed from their normal, with Sam’s enthusiasm and a world of uncertainty facing him, with Dean so loyal, so strong, so certain, beside him, Cas just wanted to hold on, and hold on tight. And he didn’t care who knew it.
***
Back at the hotel, the three of them watched TV in Sam’s room before Dean announced they should call it an early night. Cas went next door to change while Dean made sure Sam took his medicine and was relaxed and settled. When Cas was finished he traded places with Dean and exchanged small talk with Sam as the younger Winchester’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
“Don’ worry...w’ll be w’you t’morrow,” Sam mumbled before his eyelids closed completely. Cas smiled and tucked the blankets around his friend.
“Sleep well, Sam,” he whispered, and made sure the younger Winchester’s breathing was deep and even before he stepped next door. Dean had already changed and dimmed down the lights, shutting them off the second Cas climbed into bed, and then swearing up and down at the dark as he made his way over.
“Alright,” he finally sighed, pulling Cas close and curling around him. “You gotta knock out here, buddy.”
“I won’t be able to.”
Dean took his hand and began to hum.
“It won’t work.”
Dean kept humming.
“This isn’t home, Dean. I’m not just worried about a shift.”
Dean kept humming.
“You don’t understand what tomorrow will be like.”
Dean kept humming.
“I’ll have to face my mother. I’ll have to see my father in a coffin.”
Dean kept humming.
Cas opened his eyes and found it was six o’clock in the morning. He had no idea how Dean did that...but he always did.
His boyfriend had one leg hooked over both of Cas’s, hand wrapped loosely over his waist, and was snoring very, very gently beside him. The sun was intruding under the shade and, in Sam’s room, the alarm began to sing.
It was a Thursday morning in New York City. And, today, of all the world’s Thursdays, Castiel was going to bury his father.
Part 3
Part 1
***
John F. Kennedy airport was an entirely different beast from Kansas.
Dean was homicidal by the time they reached their luggage, the fast-moving passengers-and New Yorkers unapologetic shoving and racing for cabs-had worn whatever little nerves hadn’t been burned through on the flight.
“Where’s Sammy?” Dean barked, just as a man knocked him half sideways.
“I’m not sure. Let’s find Gabe.”
“We’re here for ten seconds and we lost Sammy?”
“I’m sure he just stepped to the side.” Cas handed Dean his suitcase and took his arm, guiding him to a less busy section of the terminal.
“Where the hell is everyone running too? And why is every chick here wearing heels?” Another man, this one in a suit and vest, slammed Dean’s arm while staring at his Blackberry. “Keep running, Gordon Gekko!”
“Dean-”
“Hey!” Sam muscled his way through a few passengers. “Sorry about that, there was a line.”
“Where the hell were you?” Dean barked.
“Went for water. Here,” Sam pulled out a bottle of Pepsi and a bag of Combos. Dean’s face lit up.
“Pepperoni Pizza? Really?”
“I didn’t know they made them anymore, but they had them over there.”
Dean tore into the bag and started munching, all ill-will toward New York forgotten. Cas mouthed ‘thank you’ at Sam, who gave him a knowing smile back.
“We should look for Gabriel,” he said.
“Holy crap,” Dean said around a mouthful of Combos. “Taste this Sammy-it’s childhood.”
“In a sec,” Sam said, artfully blocking a few hurried passengers from slamming into his brother. It was one of those seamless Winchester moments where they silently did something the other wasn’t even aware he needed, and Cas smiled to himself watching them.
“Seriously, dude,” Dean said, and abruptly shoved a handful of his treat into Sam’s mouth.
“Dea-” Sam let out a muffled wail as his brother’s hand clamped over his face.
“Chew.”
“Friggin’ ‘erk.” Sam’s eyes suddenly widened and he stopped in his tracks. “Oh...wow. Wow.”
“Told ya.”
“I wonder if we can buy them in bulk here.”
“Two words: internet.”
“That’s one word.”
“Since when?”
“Cas is that Gabe?”
Cas turned in the direction he pointed and spotted a man in a baseball cap, black t-shirt, and jeans, holding a Starbucks cup, scruff running over his chin and cheeks, searching the crowd with hardly any enthusiasm. It took him a moment to realize that yes, this was his brother: he hadn’t seen Gabriel look so drained in years. He held up his hand in greeting, and a few seconds later, his brother spotted him. He started to smile, and then a look of clear shock came over his face, though he quickly checked it as he walked to meet them.
“Hey kid,” he said, giving Sam a one-armed hug. “Thought you were just texting me Cas’s time. Didn’t realize it’d be a full-house.” Cas loved him for trying to infuse his normal cheer into it, but it fell hopelessly flat.
“Gabe,” Cas said, and his brother pulled him close, uncharacteristically gentle.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he sighed, and gave him one more squeeze before separating. “Dean, good to see you again.”
“Listen,” Dean said, his voice unusually soft for anyone outside of the three of them, “we know you asked Cas to come alone, and we know that it wasn’t personal. We don’t want to cause drama, and I have no problem lying about who I am if that’s what it takes. But you have to understand that there’s no way we were going to sit at home and let him ride this out solo.”
Gabe sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t. Hell, I’m grateful. And for what it’s worth...I’ll do all I can to steer you clear of the vultures.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam said softly.
“Circle of life, champ.” Gabe managed his first genuine smile of the day. “Alright, we’re not the ones who bit it. Come feast your eyes on my wheels.”
Sam and Cas loaded their bags into the trunk while Gabe boasted shop-talk to Dean. Sam gave Cas’s arm a gentle squeeze before calling “little brothers up front, big ones in the back!” and beating his big brother to the passenger seat.
"Gabe's a big brother!" Dean barked.
"He's got older ones!"
"And Cas is a little one!"
"Cas has me." Sam grinned and fastened his seatbelt. Dean huffed and opened the back door.
“You guys ever been out this way before?” Gabe asked.
“Nope,” Dean said, trying to cram his legs in behind Gabe’s seat. Sam’s knees were practically up around the dashboard, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Awesome. Then I’ll take the scenic route.” He tossed a wink at Cas. “Buckle up, Gabe’s Angels!”
Gabe hit the road at his usual speed-breakneck. Even Dean flinched a few times, though Sam seemed too absorbed in the city views to notice.
“How’s that feel, Deano?” Gabriel beamed. “Like you’re a seagull over the Pacific, right?”
“Dean hates flying,” Cas mumbled. Dean pushed Sam’s bottle of water into his hand, and Cas took a relieved sip, grateful to look busy.
“You guys all crashing at mine? I don’t mind, we can figure out the space thing, but I’ve gotta warn you-I own a full bar, and I plan on drinking it.”
“We’ll get a hotel,” Cas said quickly.
“I can get you into the W. That’s only a short ride to the house. By the way, Ralph’s got an extra car and driver with Ma, to run anyone anywhere. So they can get you when needed.” Gabe glanced in the rearview mirror. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dean, but...not sure if you should swing by the mothership just yet.”
“That’s up to Cas,” Dean said. “Sammy, Jesus!”
Sam was leaning out the window, hair everywhere, devouring the view like an enthusiastic pup.
“Sam! Get your big-ass head inside before someone knocks it off!” Dean barked.
“I can’t believe it! It looks like...like TV!”
“That’s the real deal, baby boy,” Gabe chuckled, than cut over two lanes to get Sam closer. “The epicenter of Planet Earth, right there.”
“Sam I swear to God if you lose your head, I’m sewing it back on just so I can kick the shit out of you.”
“Everything’s so tall.” Sam pulled his head back inside the car. “I don’t know if I’d want to live or work on the top floors.”
“That’s prime real estate. On clear days, you can see clear into ladies bedrooms in other states!”
“Yeah, but...even after...you know...September 11th?”
“Kid, when those towers went down, so did real estate. Lou was on the front lines of that. Ten years later, prices are back to normal, and he’s made bank.”
“Were you in the city that day, Cas?”
“Sammy,” Dean hissed.
“We all were.” He offered a gentle smile to his friend. “But we weren’t in any danger, Sam.”
The younger Winchester seemed to relax at that, staring out over the water and the cluster of high-rises.
“It’s hard to believe...how it’s so beautiful. Even after everything. It’s just so beautiful.”
Cas stared out over the highway, the gleaming skyscrapers and the sun catching the tops of the choppy water, and realized he hadn’t felt that way about New York in a long, long time. He tried to look at it through Sam’s eyes, but all he saw was scheming and plots and arguments, hundreds of floors of them. He wondered, vaguely, which floor his father was on, and where, until he felt eyes on him. He glanced up and saw Gabe glancing at him rearview mirror, sharp and stressed. Could practically feel him thinking.
They don’t know what they’re getting into.
You’re here for us, not for you.
No one’s going to let you get away with this.
Dean turned, glanced at Cas, followed his eyes to Gabe’s, and stretched his arm across the back of seat, folding Cas in with it.
“Alright, Big Apple,” he smirked. “Bring it.”
***
With Dean’s charm and Cas’s credit card, they managed to find two rooms with a door between them. Gabe was frowning at his phone when they told him the news, and said “Ralph told me to get back to Ma...and he wants to know where you’re staying.”
“You can tell them,” Cas said.
“The hell’s Sammy now?” Dean grumbled.
“He’s checking street views around the lobby.” Gabe’s face turned fond. “We gotta get the kid out more, Cas. He’s about to blow a gasket.”
“I know.” He managed a small smile at his elder brother. “I wish we were here under better circumstances.”
“Well this will all be still standing once this shit washes off the fan.” Gabe glanced back to his blaring phone. “Damnit, Ralph’s having triplets. I gotta get back to the flagship. You comin’ with?”
Cas swallowed, hard. He hadn’t seen his mother in nearly three years. And he knew she’d expect him to be staying at the family home. And like it or not, now was not the time to bring Sam and Dean.
Fortunately, he was saved by another text, and Gabe’s “Nevermind...Ma’s going to bed. Ralph wants me on hysteria-watch so he can go help Mike.” He shoved the phone in his back pocket. “You guys good?”
“We’re fine,” Dean said. “You do what you gotta, and let us know if we can make a milk run or two, okay?”
Gabe smiled and abruptly hugged Dean. “I’m glad you’re too stubborn to let him come out here alone.”
“I’m glad I got to taste those wheels,” he said, giving him a reassuring thump on the back. Gabe turned to Cas and hugged him again.
“Brace yourself, kiddo,” Gabriel murmured. “Tomorrow’s going to be rough.”
“I know,” Cas managed, and squeezed his brother back.
“I’ll text you guys the details. Think the funeral’s set for 10:00, and a reception thing to follow.” He looked a little uneasy once more. “I’m not sure, but knowing Ma, she’s going to want the lot of us to go in a group together, so the press can get pics. Dean, you and Sam may want to hang back.”
“Whatever Cas wants.”
“I’m sorry people suck.”
Dean laughed at that. “So am I.”
Gabe thumped Cas on the arm and made his way out the door. Cas turned and saw Sam striding toward them, a map in his hand.
“Sorry, someone started talking to me about tourist traps. I can’t believe how many people are out there! And a cop on a horse rode by. I’d think the horses would freak with all the people and traffic, but they didn’t seem to care at all. Where’s Gabe?”
“He had to get back to Cas’s Mom.” Dean turned to him. “You want to head upstairs?”
“Cas, did you want to go with him? Dean and I could check us in.”
“No, my mother is going to rest. If she feels up to it, I’ll go later. Let’s just go upstairs.”
Dean slipped a light hand on his back on the elevator. Cas didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t necessary: he was still, blessedly, numb. Seeing Gabe had made things a little more real, but not much. His father had been absent for so often that not seeing him didn’t trigger any of his own anxiety. With any luck, the rest of his family would be too distracted to notice that Cas hadn’t come alone.
Their rooms were on the twenty-third floor, and no sooner were they inside that Sam was glued to the windows, separating from his own only long enough to investigate Cas and Dean’s. While Dean attacked the mini-bar and started fiddling with the remote control, Cas answered Sam’s questions about their surroundings.
“That’s the edge of the Central Park, there,” he explained. “That’s where the police-horses congregate. And the carriage rides, of course.”
“Where’s Wall Street?”
“Much farther down, at the tip of the island.”
“And where’s your family home?”
“Uptown, West 86th Street.”
“Did you get lost a lot as a kid?”
“We had a driver.”
“Am I asking too many questions?”
“Of course not,” Cas smiled and laid a hand on his friend’s arm. “We’ll take a walk later, and I’ll show you around.”
Dean swore behind them. “Cas! I think I just ordered a porn.”
“Dean, ew!” Sam wailed.
“I was trying to watch sports!” His eyes lit up. “Dude, lesbians! Here,” he handed Cas the remote. “Save it for later.”
Sam closed his eyes and covered his ears as a knock came at the door. Cas turned off the television and shook his head.
“You’re terrible,” he said.
“Shutup,” Dean popped open a bag of M&Ms. “Sammy, get the door!”
“Can I look?”
“It’s fine, Sam, I’ll get it.”
Sam glared at his brother, who tilted the bag in his direction as a peace offering. Cas unhooked the chain-lock on the door and opened it, expecting a maid or similar hotel employee.
What he found was Raphael.
Dressed in a dark suit and tie, hair combed back and gelled, with a man with dark skin and eyes by his side. His brother looked more fit than Cas remembered him, and his hair appeared longer and darker, but his eyes were the same: dark, laser-sharp, and unfeeling.
“Hello, brother,” he said.
“Ralph...Gabriel just said he’d heard from you.”
“I texted him from the car. One of us should be with our mother, don’t you think?” He glanced over Cas’s shoulder to where Dean had scrambled off the bed. “Was it impossible to come alone?”
“Where he goes, we go,” Dean said, tilting his chin up in slight defiance.
“You are aware that there is to be a family funeral? Now is hardly the time to leave the closet, Castiel.”
“What do you want, Raphael?” Cas snapped as Sam muttered “Castie-what?” to Dean.
“First, meet my associate, Vincent Virgil. Vincent, Cas.” He looked past his younger brother to the Winchesters. “You’ll excuse us. We have urgent family business to discuss. I understand there’s a cheap diner several avenues over.”
“Then why don’t you and Mini-Me stroll on over. Think there’s a special on dickwad pie.”
“Dean!” Sam hissed. Raphael smiled.
“Michael warned me you were charming, but he never mentioned clever.”
“And Mikey never mentioned you at all. Lou and Gabe and the parents, but you were left clean out of the equation. Guess that’s the story of your life, huh?”
Ralph’s jaw locked. Cas turned quickly to the Winchesters.
“Why don’t you wait for me next door.”
“We’re fine right here.”
“I’m afraid you’re not,” Raphael snapped. “While you may be entitled enough here in this unfortunate state to some benefit of my brother’s hard-earned wealth, none of it will carry over back in your home town. So whatever delusions of luxury you’re envisioning with my brother’s demise, I’m sorry to report they won’t hold up as legitimate. Even if you wear the Ruby Slippers and wish for it, as I understand they’re want to do in Kansas.”
Dean’s entire frame tensed, and only Sam’s firm, broad hands on his elder brother’s shoulders kept him from lunging. Cas quickly crossed the room.
“Dean, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you,” he whispered.
“It’s working.”
“Please, just go next door. Let me handle this.”
“The hell I will.”
“You came here for me. This is what I need you to do for me. I know how to handle them. And when I’m done...that’s when I’ll need you. Both.”
Sam prodded Dean toward the door. “C’mon,” he murmured. “I told Ellen we’d call her when we were settled.”
Dean reluctantly allowed his brother to lead him through the open door between their rooms, where Sam gave Cas a reassuring nod before closing the door behind them.
“So,” Raphael said, stepping into the room while Vincent stood just inside the entryway, “that’s him.”
“Dean. His name is Dean.”
“And the tall one?”
“Sam.”
“The junkie.”
Cas gripped the seat. “Why are you here, Raphel? Gabe told me you needed to go and help Michael.”
“I am helping Michael,” he said, setting his briefcase down on the corner desk and taking one of the two seats. “I come in peace, Cas, believe it or not. That’s an issue with the lower class-they’re sore-tempered.”
“Dean only gets that way to people who insult him or his family.”
Ralph cocked an eyebrow. “He appears to have rubbed off on you. And I mean that in a strictly Christian sense, of course.” He held up a hand. “But enough of that. You know well enough how Lou and I feel on the subject of lifestyle choices. What concerns us here is our father’s legacy.”
Cas sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you. Or anyone else. I know you don’t approve, but can you at least not insult us?”
“Apologies. I haven’t slept.” The elder Morgan popped open his briefcase and pulled out several large legal documents: Cas recognized the standard blue backing paper and the seal of his brother’s law firm. “The estate is, as you imagine, slightly overwhelming. The will is intensely complicated. I’ve taken the liberty of untangling it into manageable chunks.” He produced a stack of papers and set them on the table, taking a seat across from Cas. “All you have to do is sign, and Vincent here will serve as witness.”
“What am I signing?”
“Simple finalization in order to close out everything in father’s name and transfer it to our control.”
“Shouldn’t this be done with his attorneys present?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I am an attorney, Castiel.”
“I know that, but this...seems hurried.”
“Leaving massive amounts of money unsupervised requires haste.” Raphael handed him a pen and pointed to a line with his formal, full name typed below. “Go on.”
Gabe, Lou, Raphael, and Michael had all signed. Even their mother’s signature lay to the left of theirs. All that was left was his own.
He picked up the document and flipped to the first page. Raphael’s hand shot out and seized his.
“What are you doing?”
“Reading it.”
“I don’t have time for this. Just sign.”
Cas sat up straighter. “I’m not signing anything before I’ve read it.”
“It’s all in legalese. You won’t understand a word of it.”
“I’m going to read it, Raphael.”
His brother huffed and sat back.
“Is there anything I can bring you, sir?” Vincent asked.
“No, thank you. Please check in with the office.”
“I’ll step outside.”
Cas settled back, pen in hand and began to make his way through the pages. Raphael pulled out his Blackberry and began typing furiously. At some point, Vincent stepped back into the room and handed his boss a page of neatly written notes. Next door, Dean let out a shout of clear joy, indicating he'd finally figured out how to watch sports, and Sam yelled for him to keep his voice down. Cas would have smiled if his stomach wasn’t slowly turning the further he read. He didn’t need to be a lawyer to understand what his brothers were up to: and why Raphael had rushed Gabriel out the door.
“Satisfied?” his brother asked.
“According to this...you’ll be made Chairman of all the family foundations,” Cas said slowly.
“Yes.”
“And Michael and Lou agreed to that?”
“Lou doesn’t believe in charity and philanthropy, as you know. And Michael is busy enough as it is.”
“But according to this,” Cas flipped the pages, “Lou will be put in charge of all the investments.”
“And?”
“Michael won’t have a say in any of it.”
“Michael has plenty of his own businesses to attend to. He’ll have hospitals to run.”
Cas sat back and lowered his pen. “Is this the deal you struck with Lou? You split the estate down the middle?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Raphael snapped. “Michael had ample time to review these documents. Since we three are the only ones concerned with running the estate, it makes sense that we each take control of a portion of it.”
“Michael would never sign away his say on the governance of these funds. All his work has been towards keeping it together, the way Dad did. The investments feed the foundations and the hospitals, and the hospitals’ reputation feeds the investments. You’re undoing all of that.”
“This is what our Father agreed to.”
“This isn’t from his law office. These are from yours.”
Ralph turned red. “Michael personally invited you to participate in the management of the estate, and you refused him. Now you care?”
“I care that you’re taking advantage of his grief by getting him to sign off on papers he clearly didn’t review!”
“From what I heard, you threw him off your porch and told him never to return.”
Cas ignored him. “Do you really think Lou will give you a fair share? How do you plan on supporting these foundations with no income to feed them? You just said Lou doesn’t support charity-why would he finance philanthropic funds?”
“Because he and I agree on a new mission. The world is changing, Castiel. American economics is in danger. Our very way of life is now seen on something evil by those who refuse to work for what they have.”
Cas sat back, suddenly nauseous. “You don’t intend to fund the hospitals. You’re going to turn these organizations political.”
“I’m going to make my own name known. I’m going to raise the Morgans to a new level of esteem.”
“And in turn, you’re going to pave the way for Lou’s international investments.”
“We’re going to join with those who support our vision and take it overseas. We’re going to invest in the global economy.”
“You’re going to join the boards of every super conservative think-tank you can and buy up cheap deals in the making, and you’re going to abandon all the work our Father did to bring healthcare to the underprivileged. Not without my permission,” Cas seized the last page and tore it in half. “I won’t sign off on this-on any of it. And without my agreement, you can’t revise the will.”
“This isn’t up to you!”
“You witness this,” Cas snapped at Vincent. “I refuse to sign. And if Michael knew what you were doing, he’d never have signed either.”
“Now you care about Michael? About any of us-any of this?”
“I’ve always cared. I just couldn’t take this...this backstabbing, this cruelty! Michael is our brother-doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“I didn’t abandon the family, Castiel!” Raphael slammed his fist onto the table and leered over his younger brother. “I stayed here, and I paid my dues under the suffocating scrutiny of Michael and the unpredictable insanity of Lou. I took control of the maze of the family finances and I don’t intend to waste a second more of my life answering to anyone, let alone men whose only claim to superiority is birth order!”
“I. Won’t. Sign.”
“You will. You will, or those little minions of yours will know where you came from, and know what we’re capable of.”
Cas shot to his feet. “You threaten my family-”
“We are your family!”
“-and I will use my rights to the estate, and all my finances, to bring to light everything immoral and borderline illegal you and Lou and Michael have been carrying out for all these years.” He locked his eyes on his elder brother’s. “I will bring down this house, do you understand?”
“You’d be damning yourself along with it--for what? Them? They are nothing-they are creatures.”
“Get. Out.”
“You’ll regret this, Castiel.”
“Get. Out!”
Raphael shoved the papers in his briefcase, slammed it shut, and stormed to the door, which Vincent silently opened and held. He turned on the threshold, eyes dark with rage. “You know when I last spoke with our father? Two days ago. He told me what he needed, and I carried it out. When we lay him to rest tomorrow, I will stand by his grave and know that I did all he ever wanted. I was everything he ever wanted. Lou and Michael will feel the same. You and Gabriel shouldn’t even come. He wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
Cas dug his hand into the table edge to keep from swaying. “What he wants no longer matters,” he managed.
“You shamed him, Castiel. You have shamed us all. You remember that when you lay with that family of yours. Whatever loyalty you show them doesn’t atone for what you’ve done to us.”
And he was gone.
Cas sank into his chair, staring at the door, head and stomach reeling. All the old feelings of his life here came racing back.
He was no match against his big brothers.
He couldn’t outwit them, out plot them, out think them.
He couldn’t make his mother happy. He couldn’t make his father proud.
He couldn’t make Rachel marry him. He couldn’t make his colleagues into friends.
He couldn’t protect Sam and Dean.
“Hey,” Dean poked his head in, glancing around the room. “Heard the door slam. You okay?”
“Something’s happening.”
Dean frowned, said something over his shoulder to Sam, and shut the door between their rooms. “What?” he asked, looking around warily.
“I’m not sure.” Cas launched to his feet and went for his suitcase. “We should leave.”
“Whoa, whoa-hold on. Talk to me.”
“Lou and Raphael are making some play for chunks of the estate while Michael’s distracted.”
“Gabe?”
“He doesn’t take an interest in these things.”
“Okay, so...shouldn’t you get on the horn to Mikey?”
“No. Whatever’s happening is already started, and believe me, the fallout will be ugly.”
“Okay...”
“We should go. Immediately.”
“Cas, listen to me.” Dean shut Cas’s suitcase and leaned close. Cas ducked his eyes. “You’re tired, you’re jet-lagged, you’re stressed, and you’re not even sure what’s happening.”
“I’m in their way, Dean.”
“What are they gonna do, huh? Put out a hit?”
“Don’t underestimate my brothers. They can and they will wreck anything to get what they want. And I can’t protect you and Sam out here. Which means we should go.”
Dean spoke slowly. “You let them chase you away from your Dad’s funeral, and you’re going to regret it the rest of your life.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.”
“Then you and Sam go home, and I’ll meet you in a few days.”
“Not happening.”
“I’m serious, Dean.”
“So am I.”
“If you don’t than we’re through.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Even Cas could admit that was a pathetic bluff, and he sank onto the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress. Dean sat beside him and placed a gentle hand on his leg.
“Look-this is a maximum overdrive situation, I know. We’ll just do the funeral, make a brief appearance at the reception, and then haul ass back to Aunty Em. Okay?”
Cas put his own hand over Dean’s. “I have a terrible feeling,” he managed.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“You’re not invincible, Dean.”
“Try me.”
Cas smiled, exhaustion running through him. Dean rested his forehead briefly against Cas’s temple, than gave his shoulder a reassuring thump.
“C’mon. If we don’t take Sammy for a walk he’s gonna rip up the furniture and pee on the floor. Air, food, and we’ll call it an early night.”
“I won’t be able to sleep.”
“We’ll see about that.” Dean smiled, but there was none of his usual suggestive nature to it. “C’mon. Let’s go round up Sammy.”
***
Sam had called Ellen, found memorial information online, mapped where they would need to go in the morning, written out a schedule, called Anna with information on where to send donations in lieu of flowers, left messages with Andy and Missouri, and unpacked all their suits, making sure they were in good condition for the morning.
“I checked the weather too. It might be a little cloudy, but no rain.”
“You are the biggest overachiever,” Dean said.
“And you have to wear a tie. I packed extra.”
“I’m going to wear a Godamned tie!”
“Cas, do you feel up to taking a walk?” Sam was clearly trying to downplay his excitement, and it was so endearing Cas forgot all about Raphael and smiled back.
“Of course. Let’s, and we’ll find dinner on the way.”
Taking the Winchesters out on the streets of New York went as expected-Dean was a tense, grumpy, surly grumbler while Sam was starry eyed and blissfully ignorant of the bumps and jostles from pedestrians. Cas split his energy between trying to keep Dean from punching passerby and explaining to Sam all he knew about the city. They found a bistro that sold burgers and fries-for prices that launched Dean into a lecture on the idiocy of overpricing and inflation-and hearty salads that Sam and Cas ordered over Dean’s ranting. The three split a large slice of New York Cheesecake before Dean paid the bill and had a heart-attack over the tip.
“Twenty percent?” he hissed. “Dude, the salad had Parmesan, not gold dust!”
“That’s the standard New York rate, Dean.”
“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Sam beamed.
“Well than hop in a basket and run from Miss Gulch, Toto, because this here? Is insane.”
After Dean caved and tipped, the three took a walk around their hotel, skirting along the edge of the park, taking in the shop windows and traffic. Sam would stride ahead of them, then circle back with questions and reports on what he’d observed, than take off again, only to double back moments later. With Sam stronger and healthier, he had to start working travel into their schedules: he had more than enough time banked up, and Dean could always swap shifts if need be. Sam’s awe and wonder at everything around them was so sweet and genuine, Cas felt something stirring in himself he hadn’t felt in ages-nostalgia.
He could remember playing in parks with Gabriel and even Michael, when he was young. Going to the zoo, and museums. Plays and concerts. Visiting his father’s office. He remembered Michael taking him to the gigantic Toys R Us in Times Square, and to the Planetarium uptown. He remembered Gabe dragging him out to Coney Island and Lou holding him up so he could ring the opening bell at the stock exchange. He could remember his mother kneeling beside him in medieval section of the Metropolitan and pointing to a gigantic picture of the angels, explaining that, while his brothers were named after the most powerful (and the greatest artists who ever lived), he had the ability to trump them all.
“Castiel was the angel of Thursday,” she had explained. “That means no matter what was said and done the rest of the week, he had the power to turn it all around.” She’d put her arms around him and held him close. “When your big brothers seem too much...you remember that, Castiel. One day will always belong to you.”
***
While Sam studied the map of Central Park, Cas was seized with the overwhelming urge to take Dean’s hand. Dean looked down, than up, startled, and Cas could read the dude what the hell? in his face, but he quickly schooled it and squeezed gently back. He and Dean didn’t do this in public, ever. The plane had been a rare exception, with terror backing their grip. But now, relaxed and surrounded by people, hand-holding was silently forbidden.
Cas had just as many qualms about public affection as Dean, and the silent ban had never bothered him. But standing there, so far removed from their normal, with Sam’s enthusiasm and a world of uncertainty facing him, with Dean so loyal, so strong, so certain, beside him, Cas just wanted to hold on, and hold on tight. And he didn’t care who knew it.
***
Back at the hotel, the three of them watched TV in Sam’s room before Dean announced they should call it an early night. Cas went next door to change while Dean made sure Sam took his medicine and was relaxed and settled. When Cas was finished he traded places with Dean and exchanged small talk with Sam as the younger Winchester’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
“Don’ worry...w’ll be w’you t’morrow,” Sam mumbled before his eyelids closed completely. Cas smiled and tucked the blankets around his friend.
“Sleep well, Sam,” he whispered, and made sure the younger Winchester’s breathing was deep and even before he stepped next door. Dean had already changed and dimmed down the lights, shutting them off the second Cas climbed into bed, and then swearing up and down at the dark as he made his way over.
“Alright,” he finally sighed, pulling Cas close and curling around him. “You gotta knock out here, buddy.”
“I won’t be able to.”
Dean took his hand and began to hum.
“It won’t work.”
Dean kept humming.
“This isn’t home, Dean. I’m not just worried about a shift.”
Dean kept humming.
“You don’t understand what tomorrow will be like.”
Dean kept humming.
“I’ll have to face my mother. I’ll have to see my father in a coffin.”
Dean kept humming.
Cas opened his eyes and found it was six o’clock in the morning. He had no idea how Dean did that...but he always did.
His boyfriend had one leg hooked over both of Cas’s, hand wrapped loosely over his waist, and was snoring very, very gently beside him. The sun was intruding under the shade and, in Sam’s room, the alarm began to sing.
It was a Thursday morning in New York City. And, today, of all the world’s Thursdays, Castiel was going to bury his father.
Part 3
Part 1