The Pride of Your Heart Part 3
“Dude,” Dean stepped out of the bathroom in his dress-shirt, tie, jacket, and boxers. “Ralph isn’t going to be able to gank your trust, is he?”
Cas finished knotting his own tie before turning to Dean. “No, all the trust funds were set in stone. They were ours at eighteen. My brothers and I spent it on education...as did Gabe, to a degree. But even if we spent it frivolously, nothing save a long, long court battle could possibly change the terms.”
“And you don’t think Ralph’s up for that?”
“I’m sure he’s not. It would cost a small fortune and I’ve made clear I’d air the family’s secrets in the process.”
“Good. Hey, Sammy! Where are my pants?”
Sam stepped into the room, a tray of three coffees in his hand, white bag tucked under his arm. “Jesus, Dean, we’re not at home! There are people on the other side of the walls.”
“Pants.”
“Right there,” Sam jerked his head to the closet and set the trays down. “I got bagels with cream cheese and bialys...New York traditions, right?”
Cas smiled. “Thank you, Sam.”
“Dude, donuts?”
“No, Dean.”
“Just cream cheese?”
“I didn’t get reduced-fat, at least.”
“Pansies,” Dean huffed. “Sammy, belt!”
“I’m not your handmaid!”
“It’s right here, Dean,” Cas sighed, and handed it over. Sam took a bialy and his coffee into his own room, and Cas shut the door halfway after him.
“I hope you know...even if I lost my trust fund, I would still have plenty of money to provide for Sam. You will never have to worry about his healthcare costs.”
Dean stopped rooting through the white paper-bag of breakfast and turned to him. “Damnit, Cas-that is not why I asked.”
“I’m just saying-”
“I’m just saying,” Dean snapped, and shut Sam’s door completely. “I told you from the beginning we’d do this on an equal playing field, meaning you pay what I pay. I made an exception with Sammy because he’s Sammy, and he was dying, and I’d have done anything to get him help. But I’m not worried about him here.”
“You’re always worried about him.”
“Yeah well, even if that’s my default setting, I worry about you too. And right now, that trust represents a gift your Dad gave to you. You’re his son, and you deserve to be recognized as an equal. I don’t want your douchebag brothers to challenge that because their panties are in a bunch over you living your own life.”
“Of course.”
“And look-this is a bitch-ton of tough, but quit trying the whole run-Dean off thing. I got on a plane for you, man. Sammy and I are going to wingmen you on this whether you want us to or not, so quit fighting and let us.”
Dean finished dressing himself and stood up straight. Cas looked at his boyfriend’s bare feet and swallowed, hard.
“Everything was getting back to normal.”
“This is normal,” Dean said softly. “People die. People leave.” Dean crossed the room and took Cas by the shoulders. “The point is, you gotta let me and Sammy stand by you. We’re not your wards or your charges-we’re your friends. Your family.”
“And you won’t be able to sit with me at the funeral. You won’t be able to walk next to me. You’ll have to sit in back...you don’t even have to go. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Cas, I don’t care about having to sit in the back. Neither does Sammy. Yeah, we’d rather be with you, but this is a funeral, not a pride rally. The point is we’re there.”
“Dean...”
Sam knocked on their shared door. Dean pulled it open.
“Sorry, but Cas, the car for you is almost here. Dean and I will take a cab and follow, okay?” He glanced to the breakfast-bag. “I’ll get something to wrap that in. You should eat something. I texted Gabe-he says he thinks it’ll be a long service.”
Sam closed the door on his own. Cas grabbed the chair beside the desk and squeezed hard.
“Look at me,” Dean snapped, and locked eyes with his boyfriend. “Sam and me are here , and we’re going to be there, and we’d be there no matter what excuses or threats you threw at us, y’hear?”
Cas nodded. Dean hugged him, gently, tangling his fingers in his hair. Cas gripped back so tight he could feel Dean’s ribs protest.
“You’re okay,” Dean soothed, in the voice he usually reserved for Sam. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Sam knocked once more. He handed Cas a bagel wrapped in napkins, and his charged phone, and gave him a warm, tight hug, before informing him that the driver was here, and it was time to go down to the car.
***
There as a knot of press around the front of the house, but Cas managed to elbow his way through with the help of a few private security officers. What struck him as he stepped into the foyer was the smell-it was exactly as he remembered it. Lemon polish, cool marble, and a bit of sandalwood from his mother’s favorite candles. The curtains were drawn, and down the hall he heard the telltale noises of the kitchen, hard at work, and the housekeepers studio, where duties were assigned and laundry was done.
“Morning sunshine,” Gabriel said, striding toward him. “You’re a beacon of light in this shitstorm.”
“How’s Mom?”
“Getting her hair and makeup done. You know she had her stylist put together a ‘grieving widow’ look way back when?”
“But how is she?”
“She’s Mom. None of her cracks her showing.”
“Is everyone else here?”
“Ralph’s going to meet us there. But Mike and Lou are.”
“I need to talk to you,” Cas whispered.
“Yeah, well, now’s not the best of times, baby boy.”
“Seriously. Gabe-”
“Casssstieeeeeeel.” Lou beamed, and turned the corner. “Wondered if we’d see you!”
“Hello, Lou.” He extended a hand, and Lou grasped it in both of his, shaking hard.
“The circumstances are terrible, but it is very, very good to see you, little brother.” He turned to Gabriel. “Thank you for arranging all of this.”
“Helpful’s my middle name.”
“So, you’re alone?” Lou turned and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m rather surprised.”
“Don’t pick a fight,” Gabe warned.
“I’m just asking a question. Not every question is the start of an argument.” Lou smiled, warmly. Cas had forgotten how ruggedly handsome he was: the lone member of the family with blond hair-dirty blond, he’d say-and warm blue eyes, deeper than Cas’s own. His mother had affectionately referred to him and Michael as “sun and moon” when they were younger, and ‘my Hardy Boys’ when they were older. “I’m surprised you came alone. You’re in a serious relationship, as Mike and Gabe have reported. I’m a little concerned that he wasn’t here to support you through one of the most difficult events of your life.”
“I know where you stand on the issue,” Cas snapped. “And for your information, he did come.”
“Brother...honestly, despite my misgivings, I’ve grown since you left. It’s only us left now. We brothers will be in charge of carrying out our father’s missions. Brotherhood needs to come first. I’m working on opening my mind-you should do the same.” He laid a gentle hand on Cas’s arm. “It is very, very good to see you, Cas. You look well. I hope that your new family is healthy too.”
Cas sent a bewildered look toward Gabriel, who was cocking an eyebrow at their elder brother in a clear what the hell? gesture. “You seem awfully at ease with sticking Dad in the ground.”
“I’m not,” Lou’s smile vanished. “This is a terrible day on many levels. But I always believe in looking to the future. And here we are, together as a family, as brothers, for the first time in several years. I believe we should try and pull together, as adults.” He turned back to Cas, eyes damp. “I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said against homosexuals. I know I have a long way to grow, but losing you and father has made me think. You’re my youngest brother, Castiel-we all love you. We need you home.” He gently squeezed Cas’s arm. “Let me get Michael. I have to warn you-he hasn’t had more than three hours sleep and three days. Be slow with him.”
Lou turned and crossed the wide, formal reception room to vanish into the less formal living room. Cas turned to Gabe, stunned.
“Dude,” Gabriel said, “I want what he’s taking.”
“He seems...balanced.”
“Exactly.”
“Gabe listen. I have to tell you-”
“Oh, shit-wait, before I forget. You remember Flood?”
“Flood?”
“Yeah, Mario Flood. You met him.”
“The delivery man?”
“Yeah, whatever, listen-he’s a friend. I sent him in the car going to collect Sam and Dean.”
“They were going to take a cab.”
“Well they’re not any more. I texted Sam, he knows to wait. Flood is going to get them in to the Church and the reception by the basement and the staff entrances. That way they’re free and clear of all this press, and you’re off the hook with the war machine.”
Cas relaxed a bit for the first time since he’d woken up. “Thank you, Gabe.”
“Yeah, martyr me. Just...stick to the script, and we’ll live to fight another day.”
“I have to tell you something. Raphael came by the hotel-”
“Hey-the gang’s all here.” Lou announced, smiling, a reassuring hand on Michael’s back. “Well, minus one, but we’ll see him soon enough.”
Michael looked rumpled, bleary-eyed, and dazed. He looked from Cas, to Gabe, to Cas once more. Then he held out a hand to Gabriel. “Good of you to come.”
“Of course I came. Dude...have you slept at all?”
“Time zones.” Michael listed slightly against Lou. “They’re different.”
“Yes they are,” Lou said, anxiously looking at his younger brothers. “Mike, look-Castiel made it.”
“Cas,” Michael said, starting. “I...Mother demanded crusted sea bass.”
“Sorry?”
“I forgot you don’t like it...do you still eat fish?”
“Yes, of course.”
“There’s to be a luncheon after the reception...and Mother said the fish was to be sea bass. I forgot you don’t like it.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“I forgot.” Michael’s face creased with lines that made him seem far older than he was. “I don’t even know how you got here...no one told me.”
“We flew in. It’s alright. The luncheon will be wonderful, I’m sure.”
“Yes...Mother planned the menu.” Michael nodded, staring off down the hall, than visibly starting once more. “Sam and Dean...do they like fish?”
“Brother,” Lou said gently. “I think you should come over here.”
“I didn’t ask,” Michael said, breath hitching.
“They’ll be just fine.”
“I didn’t ask when Cas would get in. I didn’t know how he would.”
“But he’s here, and he’s fine. Don’t worry. Come over here, alright?” Lou soothed.
“There’s to be a meat dish, as well?”
“It’s fine,” Cas said, gently, as Lou put guided their brother to a seat. Cas watched as Lou spoke to a few staff, than took a seat beside his elder brother, a reassuring hand on his back, until one returned with a styromphome cup that Lou took and handed to his elder brother, who sipped it slowly.
“I don’t blame him for being in deep space nine,” Gabriel mumbled. “Shock, no sleep, and never-ending papers. Jesus, I served as witness for an hour and he probably signed sixty. Every board has its own little ritual, and all of them include a good solid hour of Mike signing his name. Handing over the White House probably goes quicker.”
“I need to talk to you about that. Raphael and Lou-”
“Castiel.”
Cas felt every muscle in him tense as he turned, slowly, and faced his mother. She stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in an elegant black sheath that stopped mid-shin, black stockings, black heels, and a black hat. Her brown her had been freshly colored and was pulled back in a flawless bun, and, though she appeared not to be wearing makeup, Cas could tell she was.
“You’re here.”
“Yes.”
Michael shot to attention, and the four gathered at the foot of the stair as she made her way down. She didn’t appear to have been crying, but her eyes were lined and weary looking. She passed her other sons and walked slowly to her youngest, searching his face for a long moment before holding arms open slightly, permitting Cas to embrace her.
“It’s good to see you,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
“You’re home now.” She pulled away and touched his arm, smiling, her eyes slightly damp. “We can talk through everything later. What’s important, today,” she said, turning to her other boys, “is we stay together as a family. Lou will be the only one to speak to the media. Gabriel, I don’t want to see you goofing around in Church. Michael, I thought you were going to take a sleeping pill?”
Michael hung his head. “I...I was looking at photo albums,” he said, his voice strained and gruff. Their mother crossed to him, put a hand on his shoulder and another on his chin, and forced him to look at her.
“You are a good, strong man. All your father wanted you to be. And you’re to lead in his absence. You need to stop torturing yourself and focus on what is directly in front of you, until the pain of this eases. Then there will be time for nostalgia.” She turned back to them. “There are to be no tears from any of you, understand? You are the leaders of your father’s legacy now, and it’s important you appear as he would have. Especially you, Michael. When you speak, I don’t want a shaky voice or hands, understood? You are demonstrating that you have the ability to rise above personal tragedy and lead others through their own.”
Cas knew, if Dean were beside him, that this is where he’d slip a hand onto his back, a silent I’m here, don’t worry. Sam would...well, Sam would probably be tearing up thinking about Cas and his brothers not being allowed to cry. Cas smiled to himself at the thought, picturing Dean hissing Sam! and Sam saying it’s just not fair! right back.
“What amuses you, Castiel?” his mother snapped.
“Nothing...I’m sorry.”
“And where is Raphael?”
“He’s going to meet us there,” Lou said. His mother frowned at that.
“I asked him specifically to be here.”
“I believe he had some urgent matters regarding the estate to attend to.”
“He could have attended to them here.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t like his attitude of late. Michael, you’ll need to convey my disappointment to him.”
“Of course,” Michael mumbled.
“Now, chins up.” She slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses and held out her arm for Michael to take.
“Christ I need a drink,” Gabe mumbled, falling in beside Cas as the group moved toward the door.
Outside, a black limo was waiting, door open. Two staff members stood at the entryway while Michael and Lou blocked photographers and helped their mother down the stairs and inside. Gabe put a strong hand on Cas’s arm and guided him past the flashbulbs, making him get in first before diving in himself and closing the door.
“Asshats,” he mumbled.
“They’re just doing their job.” Lou smiled. “Isn’t that what we all have to do? Our duty.”
Something in his brother’s eyes made Cas’s stomach turn, and dread washed over him once more. He was tempted to blurt out what had transpired yesterday, when it would be all of them against Lou, but even he realized that his mother would shut down that conversation until later.
The brief drive to the Church and the awkward, oppressive silence reminded him of everything he’d come to hate about his old life. He missed the open, easy warmth the Winchesters extended. During John Winchester’s funeral, Dean had shed a few quiet tears of his own while he held his younger brother, rocking him gently when he sobbed, murmuring occasionally that it was okay, they weren’t alone, they’d get through it together.
Cas wished he could hit pause and go find his boyfriend and ask him to hold him through this. And it struck him, sadly, that he missed Sam and Dean more than he’d ever missed his own father, alive or dead.
***
“You okay?”
Dean looked up to find Sam standing in the doorway between their rooms. They were waiting for the car and some guy Gabe called ‘Flood’ to get them past the mob and safely into Church. Cas had been gone fifteen minutes and Dean was already feeling sick with nerves. Partners, boyfriends, pals, brothers-in-arms: whatever they wanted to call him, Dean should be by Cas’s side, and no amount of explaining would convince him that sitting here was the right thing to do.
Dean tilted his coffee cup toward his younger brother. “Could use a refill.”
“No. You’ll get hyper in Church.”
“I’m a model citizen.”
“You’re a turd.”
Dean laughed. Sammy swearing had always cracked him up, ever since his two year old self had dropped his fire truck and wailed “holy shit!” Between John’s horrified face and Sammy’s confusion over why Dad was scolding him when Dean was rolling around on the floor laughing, Dean had thought his stomach would explode.
“I’m golden, Ponyboy. How are you? This is a lot of change in t-minus twenty-four hours.”
“I’m fine, Dean. I’m glad I could help.” He smiled, a little shyly. “Thanks for letting me come. I’d have been a nervous wreck thinking of you guys out here going through this alone.”
“I’m not going through anything, bud.”
“Dean...you’re kinda gonna meet your inlaws. That’s a big deal.”
“They’re not my damn inlaws.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You know, for someone who was a total man-slut-”
“Hey!”
“-you are insanely repressed.”
“I’m not repressed.”
“I’m not talking about if you’re heterosexual, homosexual, bi-sexual, tri-sexual-”
“I never should have let you go to college-”
“I’m talking about that you can’t face that you’re kinda married. It freaks you out.”
“Does not,” Dean said, too loudly. Even he realized that wasn’t true.
“Dean, it’s a good thing,” Sam murmured. “It’s all I ever wanted for you-a happy, stable life, with someone who was good to you.”
Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. This kid should have been a damn psychic, screw law. “Sammy...you got to understand something. For pretty much always, my one job, my goal, was to watch out for you. You were the only permanent, stable thing I had. And even with these other relationships...when they went to hell, you were there.”
“But Cas-”
“Cas and I have been together about four years. You’ve been my brother for twenty-eight.” He looked straight into Sam’s eyes. “I know you support me, Sammy, and I love you for it, but what I really need here is time. And you got to understand...no matter how long I’m with anyone, they’re never going to be you. You can’t ask me not to put your first. That’s like asking me to grow five feet or turn Mexican.”
Sam’s eyes were damp, but he still managed a “don’t be racist, jerk.”
“Dude, I’d friggin’ love to be Mexican. Tacos, burritos, nachos-”
“Dean!”
“Margaritas, Senoritas-”
“You are such a queer!”
“Now who’s offensive?”
“Technically, queer’s not offensive-it refers to someone who doesn’t want to define themselves in any traditional societal sexual terms.”
“That’s it. I’m using Cas’s great wealth to buy back your education.”
“So by your own definition, you are 100 percent queer.”
“And have your brain wiped.”
“I love you too, Dean.”
Dumbass, stupid, shit-swearing little brothers were either a blessing or a curse from something with a hell of a sense of humor. And the only reason Dean wasn’t having a damn heartattack over the fact that he was about to walk into a gigantic room, full of grieving people, all of whom-with the exception of one stunning, dark haired man that Dean adored, and the goofball elder brother who had grown to accept them-hated him.
But he had this great big kid brother who made him feel ten stories tall, and a doctor he loved so much he was willing to go airborne, and the key to getting through today was remembering that, and showing all those arrogant sonsofbitches that no, they might not have the money or the education or the thousand dollar suits, but they had each other, and that was worth more than all their trusts and foundations and investments pooled together.
Part 4
Part 1 Part 2
Cas finished knotting his own tie before turning to Dean. “No, all the trust funds were set in stone. They were ours at eighteen. My brothers and I spent it on education...as did Gabe, to a degree. But even if we spent it frivolously, nothing save a long, long court battle could possibly change the terms.”
“And you don’t think Ralph’s up for that?”
“I’m sure he’s not. It would cost a small fortune and I’ve made clear I’d air the family’s secrets in the process.”
“Good. Hey, Sammy! Where are my pants?”
Sam stepped into the room, a tray of three coffees in his hand, white bag tucked under his arm. “Jesus, Dean, we’re not at home! There are people on the other side of the walls.”
“Pants.”
“Right there,” Sam jerked his head to the closet and set the trays down. “I got bagels with cream cheese and bialys...New York traditions, right?”
Cas smiled. “Thank you, Sam.”
“Dude, donuts?”
“No, Dean.”
“Just cream cheese?”
“I didn’t get reduced-fat, at least.”
“Pansies,” Dean huffed. “Sammy, belt!”
“I’m not your handmaid!”
“It’s right here, Dean,” Cas sighed, and handed it over. Sam took a bialy and his coffee into his own room, and Cas shut the door halfway after him.
“I hope you know...even if I lost my trust fund, I would still have plenty of money to provide for Sam. You will never have to worry about his healthcare costs.”
Dean stopped rooting through the white paper-bag of breakfast and turned to him. “Damnit, Cas-that is not why I asked.”
“I’m just saying-”
“I’m just saying,” Dean snapped, and shut Sam’s door completely. “I told you from the beginning we’d do this on an equal playing field, meaning you pay what I pay. I made an exception with Sammy because he’s Sammy, and he was dying, and I’d have done anything to get him help. But I’m not worried about him here.”
“You’re always worried about him.”
“Yeah well, even if that’s my default setting, I worry about you too. And right now, that trust represents a gift your Dad gave to you. You’re his son, and you deserve to be recognized as an equal. I don’t want your douchebag brothers to challenge that because their panties are in a bunch over you living your own life.”
“Of course.”
“And look-this is a bitch-ton of tough, but quit trying the whole run-Dean off thing. I got on a plane for you, man. Sammy and I are going to wingmen you on this whether you want us to or not, so quit fighting and let us.”
Dean finished dressing himself and stood up straight. Cas looked at his boyfriend’s bare feet and swallowed, hard.
“Everything was getting back to normal.”
“This is normal,” Dean said softly. “People die. People leave.” Dean crossed the room and took Cas by the shoulders. “The point is, you gotta let me and Sammy stand by you. We’re not your wards or your charges-we’re your friends. Your family.”
“And you won’t be able to sit with me at the funeral. You won’t be able to walk next to me. You’ll have to sit in back...you don’t even have to go. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Cas, I don’t care about having to sit in the back. Neither does Sammy. Yeah, we’d rather be with you, but this is a funeral, not a pride rally. The point is we’re there.”
“Dean...”
Sam knocked on their shared door. Dean pulled it open.
“Sorry, but Cas, the car for you is almost here. Dean and I will take a cab and follow, okay?” He glanced to the breakfast-bag. “I’ll get something to wrap that in. You should eat something. I texted Gabe-he says he thinks it’ll be a long service.”
Sam closed the door on his own. Cas grabbed the chair beside the desk and squeezed hard.
“Look at me,” Dean snapped, and locked eyes with his boyfriend. “Sam and me are here , and we’re going to be there, and we’d be there no matter what excuses or threats you threw at us, y’hear?”
Cas nodded. Dean hugged him, gently, tangling his fingers in his hair. Cas gripped back so tight he could feel Dean’s ribs protest.
“You’re okay,” Dean soothed, in the voice he usually reserved for Sam. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Sam knocked once more. He handed Cas a bagel wrapped in napkins, and his charged phone, and gave him a warm, tight hug, before informing him that the driver was here, and it was time to go down to the car.
***
There as a knot of press around the front of the house, but Cas managed to elbow his way through with the help of a few private security officers. What struck him as he stepped into the foyer was the smell-it was exactly as he remembered it. Lemon polish, cool marble, and a bit of sandalwood from his mother’s favorite candles. The curtains were drawn, and down the hall he heard the telltale noises of the kitchen, hard at work, and the housekeepers studio, where duties were assigned and laundry was done.
“Morning sunshine,” Gabriel said, striding toward him. “You’re a beacon of light in this shitstorm.”
“How’s Mom?”
“Getting her hair and makeup done. You know she had her stylist put together a ‘grieving widow’ look way back when?”
“But how is she?”
“She’s Mom. None of her cracks her showing.”
“Is everyone else here?”
“Ralph’s going to meet us there. But Mike and Lou are.”
“I need to talk to you,” Cas whispered.
“Yeah, well, now’s not the best of times, baby boy.”
“Seriously. Gabe-”
“Casssstieeeeeeel.” Lou beamed, and turned the corner. “Wondered if we’d see you!”
“Hello, Lou.” He extended a hand, and Lou grasped it in both of his, shaking hard.
“The circumstances are terrible, but it is very, very good to see you, little brother.” He turned to Gabriel. “Thank you for arranging all of this.”
“Helpful’s my middle name.”
“So, you’re alone?” Lou turned and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m rather surprised.”
“Don’t pick a fight,” Gabe warned.
“I’m just asking a question. Not every question is the start of an argument.” Lou smiled, warmly. Cas had forgotten how ruggedly handsome he was: the lone member of the family with blond hair-dirty blond, he’d say-and warm blue eyes, deeper than Cas’s own. His mother had affectionately referred to him and Michael as “sun and moon” when they were younger, and ‘my Hardy Boys’ when they were older. “I’m surprised you came alone. You’re in a serious relationship, as Mike and Gabe have reported. I’m a little concerned that he wasn’t here to support you through one of the most difficult events of your life.”
“I know where you stand on the issue,” Cas snapped. “And for your information, he did come.”
“Brother...honestly, despite my misgivings, I’ve grown since you left. It’s only us left now. We brothers will be in charge of carrying out our father’s missions. Brotherhood needs to come first. I’m working on opening my mind-you should do the same.” He laid a gentle hand on Cas’s arm. “It is very, very good to see you, Cas. You look well. I hope that your new family is healthy too.”
Cas sent a bewildered look toward Gabriel, who was cocking an eyebrow at their elder brother in a clear what the hell? gesture. “You seem awfully at ease with sticking Dad in the ground.”
“I’m not,” Lou’s smile vanished. “This is a terrible day on many levels. But I always believe in looking to the future. And here we are, together as a family, as brothers, for the first time in several years. I believe we should try and pull together, as adults.” He turned back to Cas, eyes damp. “I’m sorry for all the things I’ve said against homosexuals. I know I have a long way to grow, but losing you and father has made me think. You’re my youngest brother, Castiel-we all love you. We need you home.” He gently squeezed Cas’s arm. “Let me get Michael. I have to warn you-he hasn’t had more than three hours sleep and three days. Be slow with him.”
Lou turned and crossed the wide, formal reception room to vanish into the less formal living room. Cas turned to Gabe, stunned.
“Dude,” Gabriel said, “I want what he’s taking.”
“He seems...balanced.”
“Exactly.”
“Gabe listen. I have to tell you-”
“Oh, shit-wait, before I forget. You remember Flood?”
“Flood?”
“Yeah, Mario Flood. You met him.”
“The delivery man?”
“Yeah, whatever, listen-he’s a friend. I sent him in the car going to collect Sam and Dean.”
“They were going to take a cab.”
“Well they’re not any more. I texted Sam, he knows to wait. Flood is going to get them in to the Church and the reception by the basement and the staff entrances. That way they’re free and clear of all this press, and you’re off the hook with the war machine.”
Cas relaxed a bit for the first time since he’d woken up. “Thank you, Gabe.”
“Yeah, martyr me. Just...stick to the script, and we’ll live to fight another day.”
“I have to tell you something. Raphael came by the hotel-”
“Hey-the gang’s all here.” Lou announced, smiling, a reassuring hand on Michael’s back. “Well, minus one, but we’ll see him soon enough.”
Michael looked rumpled, bleary-eyed, and dazed. He looked from Cas, to Gabe, to Cas once more. Then he held out a hand to Gabriel. “Good of you to come.”
“Of course I came. Dude...have you slept at all?”
“Time zones.” Michael listed slightly against Lou. “They’re different.”
“Yes they are,” Lou said, anxiously looking at his younger brothers. “Mike, look-Castiel made it.”
“Cas,” Michael said, starting. “I...Mother demanded crusted sea bass.”
“Sorry?”
“I forgot you don’t like it...do you still eat fish?”
“Yes, of course.”
“There’s to be a luncheon after the reception...and Mother said the fish was to be sea bass. I forgot you don’t like it.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“I forgot.” Michael’s face creased with lines that made him seem far older than he was. “I don’t even know how you got here...no one told me.”
“We flew in. It’s alright. The luncheon will be wonderful, I’m sure.”
“Yes...Mother planned the menu.” Michael nodded, staring off down the hall, than visibly starting once more. “Sam and Dean...do they like fish?”
“Brother,” Lou said gently. “I think you should come over here.”
“I didn’t ask,” Michael said, breath hitching.
“They’ll be just fine.”
“I didn’t ask when Cas would get in. I didn’t know how he would.”
“But he’s here, and he’s fine. Don’t worry. Come over here, alright?” Lou soothed.
“There’s to be a meat dish, as well?”
“It’s fine,” Cas said, gently, as Lou put guided their brother to a seat. Cas watched as Lou spoke to a few staff, than took a seat beside his elder brother, a reassuring hand on his back, until one returned with a styromphome cup that Lou took and handed to his elder brother, who sipped it slowly.
“I don’t blame him for being in deep space nine,” Gabriel mumbled. “Shock, no sleep, and never-ending papers. Jesus, I served as witness for an hour and he probably signed sixty. Every board has its own little ritual, and all of them include a good solid hour of Mike signing his name. Handing over the White House probably goes quicker.”
“I need to talk to you about that. Raphael and Lou-”
“Castiel.”
Cas felt every muscle in him tense as he turned, slowly, and faced his mother. She stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in an elegant black sheath that stopped mid-shin, black stockings, black heels, and a black hat. Her brown her had been freshly colored and was pulled back in a flawless bun, and, though she appeared not to be wearing makeup, Cas could tell she was.
“You’re here.”
“Yes.”
Michael shot to attention, and the four gathered at the foot of the stair as she made her way down. She didn’t appear to have been crying, but her eyes were lined and weary looking. She passed her other sons and walked slowly to her youngest, searching his face for a long moment before holding arms open slightly, permitting Cas to embrace her.
“It’s good to see you,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
“You’re home now.” She pulled away and touched his arm, smiling, her eyes slightly damp. “We can talk through everything later. What’s important, today,” she said, turning to her other boys, “is we stay together as a family. Lou will be the only one to speak to the media. Gabriel, I don’t want to see you goofing around in Church. Michael, I thought you were going to take a sleeping pill?”
Michael hung his head. “I...I was looking at photo albums,” he said, his voice strained and gruff. Their mother crossed to him, put a hand on his shoulder and another on his chin, and forced him to look at her.
“You are a good, strong man. All your father wanted you to be. And you’re to lead in his absence. You need to stop torturing yourself and focus on what is directly in front of you, until the pain of this eases. Then there will be time for nostalgia.” She turned back to them. “There are to be no tears from any of you, understand? You are the leaders of your father’s legacy now, and it’s important you appear as he would have. Especially you, Michael. When you speak, I don’t want a shaky voice or hands, understood? You are demonstrating that you have the ability to rise above personal tragedy and lead others through their own.”
Cas knew, if Dean were beside him, that this is where he’d slip a hand onto his back, a silent I’m here, don’t worry. Sam would...well, Sam would probably be tearing up thinking about Cas and his brothers not being allowed to cry. Cas smiled to himself at the thought, picturing Dean hissing Sam! and Sam saying it’s just not fair! right back.
“What amuses you, Castiel?” his mother snapped.
“Nothing...I’m sorry.”
“And where is Raphael?”
“He’s going to meet us there,” Lou said. His mother frowned at that.
“I asked him specifically to be here.”
“I believe he had some urgent matters regarding the estate to attend to.”
“He could have attended to them here.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t like his attitude of late. Michael, you’ll need to convey my disappointment to him.”
“Of course,” Michael mumbled.
“Now, chins up.” She slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses and held out her arm for Michael to take.
“Christ I need a drink,” Gabe mumbled, falling in beside Cas as the group moved toward the door.
Outside, a black limo was waiting, door open. Two staff members stood at the entryway while Michael and Lou blocked photographers and helped their mother down the stairs and inside. Gabe put a strong hand on Cas’s arm and guided him past the flashbulbs, making him get in first before diving in himself and closing the door.
“Asshats,” he mumbled.
“They’re just doing their job.” Lou smiled. “Isn’t that what we all have to do? Our duty.”
Something in his brother’s eyes made Cas’s stomach turn, and dread washed over him once more. He was tempted to blurt out what had transpired yesterday, when it would be all of them against Lou, but even he realized that his mother would shut down that conversation until later.
The brief drive to the Church and the awkward, oppressive silence reminded him of everything he’d come to hate about his old life. He missed the open, easy warmth the Winchesters extended. During John Winchester’s funeral, Dean had shed a few quiet tears of his own while he held his younger brother, rocking him gently when he sobbed, murmuring occasionally that it was okay, they weren’t alone, they’d get through it together.
Cas wished he could hit pause and go find his boyfriend and ask him to hold him through this. And it struck him, sadly, that he missed Sam and Dean more than he’d ever missed his own father, alive or dead.
***
“You okay?”
Dean looked up to find Sam standing in the doorway between their rooms. They were waiting for the car and some guy Gabe called ‘Flood’ to get them past the mob and safely into Church. Cas had been gone fifteen minutes and Dean was already feeling sick with nerves. Partners, boyfriends, pals, brothers-in-arms: whatever they wanted to call him, Dean should be by Cas’s side, and no amount of explaining would convince him that sitting here was the right thing to do.
Dean tilted his coffee cup toward his younger brother. “Could use a refill.”
“No. You’ll get hyper in Church.”
“I’m a model citizen.”
“You’re a turd.”
Dean laughed. Sammy swearing had always cracked him up, ever since his two year old self had dropped his fire truck and wailed “holy shit!” Between John’s horrified face and Sammy’s confusion over why Dad was scolding him when Dean was rolling around on the floor laughing, Dean had thought his stomach would explode.
“I’m golden, Ponyboy. How are you? This is a lot of change in t-minus twenty-four hours.”
“I’m fine, Dean. I’m glad I could help.” He smiled, a little shyly. “Thanks for letting me come. I’d have been a nervous wreck thinking of you guys out here going through this alone.”
“I’m not going through anything, bud.”
“Dean...you’re kinda gonna meet your inlaws. That’s a big deal.”
“They’re not my damn inlaws.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You know, for someone who was a total man-slut-”
“Hey!”
“-you are insanely repressed.”
“I’m not repressed.”
“I’m not talking about if you’re heterosexual, homosexual, bi-sexual, tri-sexual-”
“I never should have let you go to college-”
“I’m talking about that you can’t face that you’re kinda married. It freaks you out.”
“Does not,” Dean said, too loudly. Even he realized that wasn’t true.
“Dean, it’s a good thing,” Sam murmured. “It’s all I ever wanted for you-a happy, stable life, with someone who was good to you.”
Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. This kid should have been a damn psychic, screw law. “Sammy...you got to understand something. For pretty much always, my one job, my goal, was to watch out for you. You were the only permanent, stable thing I had. And even with these other relationships...when they went to hell, you were there.”
“But Cas-”
“Cas and I have been together about four years. You’ve been my brother for twenty-eight.” He looked straight into Sam’s eyes. “I know you support me, Sammy, and I love you for it, but what I really need here is time. And you got to understand...no matter how long I’m with anyone, they’re never going to be you. You can’t ask me not to put your first. That’s like asking me to grow five feet or turn Mexican.”
Sam’s eyes were damp, but he still managed a “don’t be racist, jerk.”
“Dude, I’d friggin’ love to be Mexican. Tacos, burritos, nachos-”
“Dean!”
“Margaritas, Senoritas-”
“You are such a queer!”
“Now who’s offensive?”
“Technically, queer’s not offensive-it refers to someone who doesn’t want to define themselves in any traditional societal sexual terms.”
“That’s it. I’m using Cas’s great wealth to buy back your education.”
“So by your own definition, you are 100 percent queer.”
“And have your brain wiped.”
“I love you too, Dean.”
Dumbass, stupid, shit-swearing little brothers were either a blessing or a curse from something with a hell of a sense of humor. And the only reason Dean wasn’t having a damn heartattack over the fact that he was about to walk into a gigantic room, full of grieving people, all of whom-with the exception of one stunning, dark haired man that Dean adored, and the goofball elder brother who had grown to accept them-hated him.
But he had this great big kid brother who made him feel ten stories tall, and a doctor he loved so much he was willing to go airborne, and the key to getting through today was remembering that, and showing all those arrogant sonsofbitches that no, they might not have the money or the education or the thousand dollar suits, but they had each other, and that was worth more than all their trusts and foundations and investments pooled together.
Part 4
Part 1 Part 2