The Pride of Your Heart Part 7
When he’d lost Jess, Sam had believed he’d wanted to die.
When he’d lost Madison, he was sure he’d wanted to die: and he’d tried to.
There had been other moments, throughout treatment, when Sam deeply questioned his will to live, but the constant efforts of Dean and Cas pulled him back from that train of thought.
Now, alone in his hospital room, it seemed impossible that he’d ever come back from those feelings. There was no doubt in his mind that what he needed right now was to die. While the other times had been inspired by loss and guilt, this was a direct confirmation of his worst fears.
He was responsible for everything terrible that had happened the past few years.
He was viewed by everyone around him, even as far away as half a country, as the weakest, lamest member of the family, picked off with ease.
He had, repeatedly, wrecked Dean’s happiness with the one person who was truly worthy of him.
For the past two days, he’d been in this bed, burrowed under the new blanket Cas had bought. Dean had left his side only once: to consult with Michael and Cas, and then to return and tell him what he’d learned.
“Sammy,” he had murmured, his voice using that special, soft tone he used when Sam was sick or hurt or scared, “I know you didn’t do this to yourself. I saw that asshole in your room, and Cas and Michael just confirmed that there was a paralytic in your blood, which basically makes it impossible for you to have done this to yourself.” He squeezed Sam’s neck gently. “But even if you did, bud, you gotta know by now we would work through it. I’m not letting you go again. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”
After that, it had been hours before Sam was able to confess what he knew: and even that left him feeling empty and hateful.
If he hadn’t been so weak, Dean and Cas would have been safe.
If he hadn’t been so selfish, Dean and Cas would have had the life they deserved.
If he hadn’t been a junkie, maybe Cas’s family would have been more open to Dean, and his big brother would have a whole new network of support.
Dean was sitting next to the bed, rubbing his back. Sam had told Dean and Cas everything he knew, then repeated it all to the police, and then lapsed back into silence. He was holding the amulet in one hand in Cas’s seeds and the other, but he didn’t feel even close to hopeful. “Hey, bud,” Dean murmured, shifting behind him and laying a hand on his arm. “You feel like talking yet?”
Sam didn’t answer. His brother cracked open a new Gatorade and shoving a straw inside. “You want to sip on this?” He faked a flying sound, and poked the straw against Sam’s unresponsive lips. “Okay...not thirsty.” He set the drink beside him. “No pressure or anything...but I’m awful lonely here by myself. It’s you and me against it all, right? So...you just leaving me hanging?” Dean smiled, one of his warmest, sweetest smiles, the one he always had for his brother, so he’d know it was all okay.
Sam felt his eyes fill. He loved Dean so much, and he knew his brother loved him, and trying to tell him that he was responsible for everything bad that had happened between the two of them, everything that had ruined their happiness was one of the hardest things he'd ever have to say.
“C’mon little brother,” Dean murmured, petting his head. “I know this wasn’t your fault, but even if it was, you gotta know we can work through it. We can work through anything.”
“You don’t know,” Sam whispered. His throat hurt: his voice was weak and shallow from the breathing tube.
“Alright.” Dean perched beside him. “Feel like sharing?”
“It wasn’t that he tried to manipulate me, Dean...it’s that I did it-I gave in at every turn. He sent Crowley...I bought it. He poisoned the salt...I ate it. I ruined everything you made for me.”
“Sammy-”
“No, Dean-I told you what he told me, and he was right. Your drinking only spiraled out of control because of me. You and Cas have only ever fought because of me-Crowley proves that. Without me, you could travel, and be together, and-”
“Sammy, goddamnit!” Dean snapped, and grabbed his brother’s shoulders. “Look-I get that you’re detoxing, and that’s going to bring up all sorts of sickness and shit, but don’t you dare think that I’d put you before anyone else.”
“You need to be with Cas now,” Sam managed, feeling a tear slip free.
“No-we need to be with Cas now.” Dean laid a warm hand on Sam’s chest. “We’re family-the three of us. Cas needs you. And I need you, Sammy.” Dean rubbed a gentle circle of his brother’s heart. “I know all this is probably making you depressed and confused and who knows what else, but I need you to talk to me, bro. Let me try and untangle you from whatever mental barbed wire you’ve got yourself wrapped up in.”
Sam felt something big give in his chest. “Dean...he-” Sam’s voice hitched. This was nothing like Crowley. Crowley had never been gentle, caring-he’d kept his hands to himself. And when he’d gone for more, it had been violent.
This was...so much worse. A weird, forced parody of the affection Dean had always shown him. A mocking of his brother’s tenderness.
“Did he touch you?” Dean demanded.
“No, no! Not like that. He just...he...held me. And...my hair...” Dean’s face softened. “I just-he acted like-like-”
“Like he cared,” Dean supplied. “That feels way worse than hurting.”
“Dean?”
His brother smiled sadly. “I get it. It’s just as abusive as bumps and bruises, kiddo. It taints kindness, tricks you into thinking you’re getting it.”
“Dean,” was all he could manage. Dean leaned forward and smoothed his hair, and it was so unmistakably Dean that he wondered how he ever could have thought Lou’s hand was anywhere close.
“I know,” he murmured. “I know, Sammy. It’ll fade, I promise.”
Sam suddenly shot up and gripped his brother against him, shaking so hard it hurt. Dean immediately drew him close and held tight, just like he always did when Sam needed him.
“I wish I’d never met Crowley,” Sam sobbed, “I hated myself every time, I kept thinking it’d get better, I’d see a way out, but I couldn’t. It was all a lie, all in my head, and I just kept believing it.”
“Shhh,” Dean murmured, rocking him gently. “It’s okay, Sammy. Let it go. I can take it.”
“I wanted to be here for you and Cas. And it’s like...disaster follows me.”
“Sammy, if we hadn’t come out here, Cas would be all alone, facing those monsters. I don’t know about you, but after seeing this, I’m even happier and more grateful that you’re my brother. And I didn’t think I could be prouder, or happier. Not every little pain in the ass out there would drop their life to tag along with their screw-up big brother’s boyfriend’s dysfunctional family.”
“I love Cas too,” Sam sniffed. “In a totally different way.”
“Even though you’ve now, officially, hooked up?”
Sam smacked his arm, hard. “I hate you.”
“Back at you, kid,” Dean smiled, pulling his brother’s shaggy head under his chin. “Right back at you.”
***
Cas sat in Michael’s office, staring at his phone, praying for it to ring with Rachel on the other end, telling him all was well. He hoped this wasn’t too much for her-knowing she was pregnant had stirred so many feelings in him. He missed her. He wanted to be involved with her and Victor. He wanted to be ‘Uncle Cas.’
Even better was Dean’s utter lack of jealousy. He seemed to like Victor, and made several comments to Cas about Rachel’s beauty, mainly “Dude, you have an ‘I Dream of Genie’ fetish,” playfully nudging him.
Rachel had also paid extra attention to Sam, telling him about life in the D.A.’s office and touching his arm when he appeared anxious. “If you decide you want to be a lawyer, I’ll secure you an internship,” she promised him. “If you don’t, good for you-go do something worthwhile,” she’d said with a wink.
Sitting in that office, Cas had never needed her more. More than when he left, more than when she told him she couldn’t be his wife, more than endless nights of stress and studying. Dean had put his faith entirely in Cas’s decisions, and Cas had chosen Rachel and Michael to bring justice for Sam.
If they failed, he failed-and he may never regain that trust from Dean.
The phone rang. Cas hit “answer” and barked “Hello?”, his heart racing.
“I knew you missed my voice,” an all too familiar, perky accent said.
“Peter,” Cas sighed.
“Oh don’t sound so blue. You’re missing nothing here, but we’re all missing you. How are you, mate?”
“This isn’t the best time,” Cas said carefully.
“What’s wrong?” Balthazzar’s tone shifted instantly into genuine concern.
“Nothing.”
“Cas.”
“One of my brothers attacked Sam,” Cas blurted out.
“What? Oh my God. Why?”
“He felt if Sam died of a drug overdose, it would cause Dean to relapse and drink again, and we’d break up.”
“That’s insanity.”
“It may very well be.”
“Do you want me to come out there?”
“Peter, you’re a pediatrician.”
“I’m much more than that-I’m a Brit. We had an empire where the sun never set. We stood alone against Hitler. We have a Queen AND a Democracy, and that blows your tiny little Yankee minds. Conquering and defense are in my blood. I could get on a plane and be King of New York by tomorrow, have the sonofabitch put to death by guillotine, and be back in Kansas in time for my next shift.”
Cas smiled. “I thought the French used the guillotine.”
“We chopped off our fair share of heads, I assure you.”
“I appreciate it, Peter...but right now, we just have to focus on Sam.”
“All joking aside-how is he, Cas? You could always consult Anna. You know she loves you.”
“Michael brought in some addiction specialists. They’ve done some wonderful work.”
“Wait-Mikey’s good now?”
A beep signaled call waiting. Cas glanced at it and saw ‘Rachel.’ “I have to go-I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure you’re alright? Is Sam?”
“Sam’ll be fine...and I will too.” The beep sounded again. “I have to take this call, Peter-I promise I’ll fill you in.”
“Alright...be careful.”
“Thank you,” Cas said, infusing his voice with as much sincerity as he could before quickly flipping over to Rachel. “Hello?”
“We have Lou,” she said calmly, the sound of law enforcement behind and around her. “He lawyered up and his attorneys are already offering pleas in exchange for taking down Raphael.”
Cas clenched his hand into a fist. “And Raphael?”
“We can’t go after him yet...but we will, Cas, I promise. I can’t prosecute this myself, you know: it’s a conflict of interest. But I know who will and I have faith in them, Cas. We’ll play them against each other until we have enough evidence to indict them both on something-even if it’s not Sam.”
Cas slumped against his brother’s desk. “Thank you, Rachel.”
“How’s Sam?”
“He’s...not really talking. I left him with Dean for a bit.”
“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“And you shouldn’t be out busting criminals-you have to think of your health.”
“This baby has law and order in his or her genes. Might as well get an early start.”
Cas felt a lump forming in his throat. “Rachel...I should have been more involved with you. I should have come to visit. I want...I want to know this baby.”
“Oh, Cas-of course you will.” Her voice softened. “Honey, you’ve had your hands so full...and so have I. We never resented each other for having to work or run all over the place, never. You will always be welcome in my life, and I know I’m welcome in yours. You don’t owe me anything. Even if I didn’t know you, I’m not about to let some psychopath kill a young man so he can take over an estate.”
Cas smiled, his eyes burning. “I know you wouldn’t.”
“Dean makes you happy, Cas-and you make him. I can see it. I’m so proud of you. You’re the most courageous person I know. And also the hardest on yourself. Don’t do this now. Lou is a sick man-we’ve known this for years. And Raphael is just taking advantage of that. I review crimes all day every day, Cas. I know what I’m saying, and this is not your fault.”
Cas felt a tear run down his cheek. “I love you, Rachel.”
“I love you too. I always will.” She smiled-he could feel it in her voice. “Go find Dean, and try to get some rest, okay? At the very least, go get coffee and some dinner. Lean on him. He loves you too-let him help you through this.”
“I will,” Cas said automatically.
“Please, Cas, I know you. Don’t withdrawal now. I was never the best at chasing after you, but I know Dean will. Don’t make him. Just let him help. You will feel so much better, I promise.”
Michael arrived just then, leaning against the doorframe, looking more disheveled than Cas could ever remember.
“I have to go, Rachel.”
“Take care, Cas. I’ll let you know what’s happening, every step of the way.”
“You take care: you’re looking after two.”
“I will, hon. Victor’s on it. Go to Dean now, alright?”
“I will,” he lied, and closed his phone, eyes boring into his brother’s. “Well?”
***
Sam was half-asleep, one hand tangled in his brother’s shirt, the other on Cas’s seeds. Dean was still beside him, alternating rubbing his back or his head. He still felt weak, and nauseous, and drained inside out. For the first time ever, he missed Rosemount. He missed Andy and Ash and Alan and Missouri. And he missed Cas-he knew he had to go, to deal with the law, but he wanted him to come back and explain everything that was happening in that calm, authoritative way he had.
He wanted the bed to be big enough for Dean to lay down behind him. He knew it was ridiculous to still need his big brother like that, but that’s how he felt. He was sick of being so sick, so weak. He was sick of being tired.
Like Dean could read his thoughts, his brother murmured “We’re gonna go home soon, kiddo. Go home and get you settled and we’ll watch TV and get Andy to swing by and get back to normal. Okay? All of this-Cas’s Dad passing too-will be easier to deal with there.”
“I’know,” Sam mumbled, and was about to tip over into full sleep when a sharp knock came at the door.
“Hi there,” a woman’s voice said. “I’m Jodi Mills, Social Worker. Her to have a little chat with Sam,” she said, smiling warmly.
Sam came awake with a jolt of terror. “No,” he gasped, sitting up. “I’m an adult-I’m more than an adult. You can’t take me.”
Jodi’s face dropped. “Of course I can’t...that’s not what I’m here for.”
“I’m ten years past eighteen. I’m seven past twenty-one. You can’t take me!”
“I’m not here to take you,” Jodi soothed. “I’m here to help you, Sam-to counsel you. I’m a trauma victim specialist. I speak with victims. I’m here to see if I can help you through this time.”
“But you’re a social worker.”
“Yes.” Jodi smiled and approached the bed. “Social workers help people connect to resources. They help counsel people through difficult times. I’m a counselor, Sam. I’m just here to see if I can help you get through this.”
“I have a counselor at home. I don’t need you.”
“Okay. Can I just ask you a few questions?”
“Sammy,” Dean broke in, “she’s not gonna hold you, man. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re gonna come home with us. I’ll sit right here, okay?”
“Actually...I was hoping to speak to Sam alone.” Jodi smiled again. “Sam, I don’t have any power here. I can’t force you to be held against your will. I just want to see how you’re doing. That’s my job.”
“Then why can’t Dean stay?”
“Protocol. Red tape. If Dean was hurting you, although based on your file I know he’s not, his presence would affect my evaluation.”
“Why do you need to do an evaluation?”
“So the hospital can cover its ass by saying it did everything it should.”
Sam looked at her warily. “Can you prevent me from going home?”
“No. Only the court can do that, and not based on this. There’s no record of you doing anything wrong, Sam. I counsel victims, not criminals.”
Sam tentatively released his brother. For the first time since all this started, he felt a spark of desire to do the right thing: to try and recover some part of himself.
“You should go, Dean,” he murmured. Dean looked at him like he was insane.
“No way.”
“No...really. You should track down Cas. I’ll be okay.”
“But-”
“I will.”
Dean gave him one of those looks-the soft, gentle ones. He looked into Sam’s eyes for a minute, than nodded and thumped him on the shoulder. “You stay with me, y’hear? Don’t check out again.”
“I won’t,” Sam promised. And he meant it. Dean cast a wary glance at Jodi, than ventured out of the room.
“He’s scruffy,” Jodi said, pulling his chair around to face Sam. “Been here for awhile, huh?”
“He’s my big brother.”
“He acts like one.” She sat down and crossed her legs. “I have a big sister myself. She can be pretty tough when provoked. And don’t even mention what happens if you mess with my little brother.”
“Why are you here? I thought social workers just evaluated kids to be split up from their homes.”
“Were you ever separated from your family, Sam?”
“What does that have to do with now?”
“Because you’re looking at me like I’m going to stab you.”
“I don’t know you. And I don’t like what you people do."
“Sam...may I call you Sam?”
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not. Listen to me-a social worker’s job is to connect people with resources. To help them solve problems. We exist in all walks of life-we work with the elderly, people on welfare, people with disease, alcoholics, drug addicts, eating disorders, people grieving, and yes-children in danger. We work as counselors: we can diagnose issues and recommend treatment. If you were removed from your home as a child, it’s because a social worker deemed you were in danger. I’m here to see if I can help prevent you from falling into the danger of post-traumatic stress from your recent trauma.”
Sam mulled this over. “So...you’re like a shrink?”
“I don’t have the PHD that would make me a doctor, but I can perform therapy to an extent. For cheaper than a shrink.” She smiled. “We don’t get into this line of work for the money or the ease of the job, Sam. We do it because we want to help people and we think we could be good at it.”
“Do you have to be free of any problems to do it?”
“I’m a trauma counselor-you think I’d be good at that if I hadn’t gone through trauma?” she asked, her eyes warm and soft. “Can I ask you some questions, Sam?”
Sam smiled and sat up a little straighter. “Sure...okay.”
***
Michael sank into the chair across from Cas and filled his brother in on everything that had gone on since he’d left. Cas listened, and nodded, thanked him, but couldn’t get past a certain obstacle.
“Why did you do this?” he asked, eyes glued to his brother. “I don’t’ believe you suddenly had a change of heart. It’s not like you.”
“I didn’t...it wasn’t sudden,” Michael sighed and rubbed his eyes. “After I visited you, I visited Rachel. I presented her with everything Father’s private investigator had presented to us. And she listened, and she took that evidence and, with her husband, and all their connections in law enforcement, they put together a dense and very different paper trail. One that showed Dean’s...criminal activities resulting in direct payments toward the family’s bills. Mostly during months where the boys would have needed provisions. Essentially-”
“Rachel and Victor provided evidence to everything I’d already told you was true.”
Cas knew he was cold, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Michael leaned forward, and Cas leaned back.
“They backed it up,” his elder brother said. “Cas-please, listen. This wasn’t how I wanted it to be. I-”
“What do you want?”
“We need you here, Cas. I need you. I can’t do this alone. If you don’t want to live here, that’s fine. Stay with them, even work part-time. I’ll arrange all your travel. I’ll pay off your mortgage, all off Sam’s medical expenses, school for Dean-anything you want.”
“I want out.”
“You don’t mean that. You still care.”
Of course he did. If nothing else, this weekend had proved that he hadn’t freed himself as much as he’d thought he had. But he’d be damned before he let Michael see that.
“Take my portion and sell it off.”
“Cas, please. Father always said...he always believed, the day he died, that I’d ascend into his shoes...run everything as he could. But I can’t...the past few days have proved that. Lou has been arrested. Raphael has been conspiring against me. The press is already saying I broke at the funeral. The investments are faltering with Dad’s death. I can’t oversee everything alone. Please...” Michael’s voice hitched, and he hung his head before gasping “help me.”
But Cas set his jaw, thought of the Winchesters, and said “I have a family to think of,” and marched away.
***
Jodi laughed when Sam told her about some of Missouri’s best moments, and said “see, we couldn’t get away with that here. I wish we could. I’d love to smack someone and tell them to shut the hell up.”
“She doesn’t do that all the time,” Sam said, laughing himself. “She’s really sweet, most of the time. But I appreciate it. She makes me work.”
“I’ll bet.” Jodi smiled. “Sam, I’m going to send my report to them, and say that I don’t believe you’ve relapsed, and that you seem to have a strong network of support. If there’s a trial, I’ll testify that you didn’t display any behavior that deemed a relapse, or an active addiction. You’re strong in recovery, and it shows.”
“You can tell all that? We just...talked.”
“I can tell from our talk,” she smiled, and tapped her pen on her note pad. “I’m that good, kiddo.”
“This is what you do? Really?”
“It’s part of it. If you were an addict, I’d try and guide you to resources that could help. If you had no support network, I’d try and guide you toward that. If you were combative, I’d wonder if you had more to do with this crime than you’re letting on. But you’re easy. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you never wanted this, and you have a support network, and the mere fact that you’ve been able to smile and laugh tells me you’re not suicidal or dangerously depressed. In fact, everything you’ve said makes me think you’re a strong, caring, motivated young man on a good track, who had something horrible done to him and refuses to let it ruin him or his family. Am I wrong?”
Sam looked down at the packet of seeds on the bed, than reached for the amulet around his neck. “No,” he said, smiling back at her. “You’re right.”
***
Cas left Michael, stormed to a waiting room, and did the only thing he could think of: he called Gabriel.
His brother answered sounding exhausted and tipsy, and Cas realized it was nearly three in the morning.
“Lou’s been arrested...he tried to kill Sam,” Cas opened. He explained it all to Gabe, between grunts and sips of something and ‘hm-mms.’
When he finished he waited, but Gabe didn’t say anything. He waited, heard the sound of clinking glasses or bottles, and finally ventured “Gabe?”
“Yeah...I’m here,” his brother sighed. “Look, kid...I love ya, you know that. But...I don’t get why you couldn’t have just come out here alone.”
Cas’s stomach sank. “Sam and Dean insisted. They wanted to be there for me.”
“Yeah, and I mean it when I say that’s great, but...you knew Lou was nuts. You knew Raphael’s been biting at Mike’s heels for ages. You knew this wouldn’t be easy. You really couldn’t have just...let this be about us?”
Heat flooded Cas’s face. “I...I felt...I needed them.”
“That’s just it...it’s like the last few years have just been about what you need. You haven’t tried to explain anything to anyone...including Mom. I visited you. I reached out to you. I called you. I pulled you out of the line of fire as a kid and I’ve tried to do it now.” His voice hitched. “I love you, kiddo, I do. But I can’t deal with this now. Dad’s dead...and that’s all I can handle.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying...I’ve been drinking, and I’m going to keep drinking, and that’s all I can do right now, bro. All this drama you’ve brought with you...you gotta deal with it without me. I’m sorry. This is too much. I can’t do this. Alright? I can’t. You’re gonna get to go home and have your great family, and I’m gonna be here, alone, with all of this. I can’t...Dad’s dead. I can’t. I...gotta go.”
Cas stood staring at the phone, Gabe’s number blinking, indicating the call had ended. Something inside him gave: the emotional dam he was so used to began to crumble down. It had been so long since he’d felt the pain of his family’s rejection that he’d believed himself to be immune to it.
And Gabe...Gabe had never...Gabe was his good brother. His best brother. The closest thing he had to a real brother.
Cas pushed his face against the phone and felt his eyes fill.
“Hey,” a familiar, loving rumble said from behind him. “Cas?”
“Gabriel said...it’s too much for him,” Cas gasped, and was instantly engulfed in the warmth and strength of Dean. “He said he can’t. He said...I had to deal with it alone.”
“Not alone,” Dean soothed, kissing him quickly on the cheek. “You’re not alone, Cas.”
Cas turned, buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m ashamed,” Cas admitted. “I’m ashamed of my brothers, of this life, of my name. I’m ashamed I never attempted to reach out to my father. I’m ashamed my mother rejected you in public. I’m ashamed of what Lou did to Sam. I’m ashamed I ran away from here and I’m ashamed I ran away from you and-” his voice cracked. “I’m not...used to feeling...so much at...once...”
“Shhh,” Dean murmured, and pulled him in close, circling him with his strong, warm arms, all confidence and strength. “I know, buddy,” he soothed, stroking the back of his head.
“I wish...I wish we hadn’t come here,” he gasped, digging his hands into Dean’s shirt. “I never wanted to come back here, Dean.”
“I know, man. But you can’t try and outrun all this-you’ve been trying for too long. And believe me, I get it. I get the urge.” He squeezed him, gently. “We’re your family, but they’re your blood. You gotta own that, shame and all.”
“I just want to go home,” Cas pleaded. Dean’s hand found the small of his back and rubbed a warm circle.
“And we’re gonna,” he soothed. “Soon as Sammy’s got the green light, we’re heading up and out of here. Be in our own bed before you know it. But part of you is still gonna be here, Cas. And I’d rather be with you when you face it than halfway across the country. So would Sammy.”
“I forgot...how lonely...it was. Here. I always felt...like a freak. Like...I was in...the wrong...skin.”
“What’s the ad say? ‘Love the skin you’re in?’”
Cas couldn’t help it-he laughed. Dean could always make him laugh. “I hate you.”
“I know you do.” Dean pulled back and smiled his warmest, softest smile, the one he usually reserved for Sam when he was ill or sobbing. “Listen-I know what it’s like to hate where you’re from. I do. But good had to have been here, or you and Gabe wouldn’t be what you are. Even Michael was able to get off his high horse long enough to save Sammy, and Lou, psycho that he is, was practically dragging Mikey around that church.”
“It’s not that simple, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean dropped his voice. “I know, man. But I also spent so many years hating so much of what I was, I forgot anything had ever been good. Sam too. I don’t want you to repeat that. It’ll take time, but you gotta try to remember, the man who you are now-the Cas that me and Sam and Bobby and Ellen and everyone back in our little Podunk, hillbilly, working class world love-came from here. So it couldn’t have all been evil, or you would have ingested it. It would have ingested you.”
Cas felt an overwhelming exhaustion. Listed slightly, only to have Dean catch and press him against his shoulder.
“C’mon,” he murmured, stroking the back of Cas’ head. “I got a cot set up in Sammy’s room. Let’s get you in bed, okay?” He kissed his temple lightly. “I gotcha.”
“Oh-Sam.” Cas pulled away, wiping his face. “How is he?”
“Worried about you. Sent me to find you and make sure you were okay.” Dean shook his head. “How I got stuck with both you ladies, I’ll never know. But somehow I did.”
Cas smiled through his tears. Maybe all his big brothers had abandoned him, but he had an adopted little one that made it seem so much better. An adopted little one who cared, and loved him, and worried for him, even when he was needing comfort and love and reassurance for himself.
Cas nodded weakly and let Dean lead the way to Sam’s room. The younger Winchester was half-asleep when they entered, but woke and mumbled something incoherent, to which Dean responded “go back to sleep, Sasquatch.” Cas stripped down to his undershirt, pulled off his belt, kicked off his shoes, and fell so hard onto the cot he was amazed he didn’t collapse it. Dean left to find another blanket, and Sam rolled over to smile at him, all sweetness and exhaustion.
“So...guess we met the family,” he chuckled. Cas felt his throat swell once more.
“I’m so sorry,” he managed. Sam’s face sobered.
“This wasn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you.”
“I should never have let you and Dean come here.”
“You didn’t. You told us not to. We followed you out here. And I’m glad we did. All this time I thought me and Dean owned the market on dysfunction.”
Cas felt his throat swell once more. Sam reached across the space between them and squeezed Cas’ arm.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I mean...it scared me to death, sure, but I’m okay, Cas. You and me and Dean...we’re still together. That’s what matters, right?”
Cas nodded and grasped Sam’s hand, squeezing lightly. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” he murmured once more. Sam squeezed his hand.
“I’m sorry. This was supposed to be about you.”
“It is.” Cas felt his eyes filling once more. “This is what I never wanted you and Dean to know.”
“Hey,” Sam chided. “Fair’s fair, huh? You took a slug to the face from our Dad barely three months in. We can take a few for you.”
“But I didn’t want this for you.” Cas’ voice broke. “I wanted to do right by you both-”
“You have,” Sam soothed. “And we’re gonna be home soon. You’ll see. It’ll be okay. We’ll help you.”
Cas felt a tear break loose. “Thank you, Sam,” he whispered, clutching his hand tightly against his chest.
“And listen-if Dean ever brings it up? I’m the better kisser. Even half-dead.”
Cas raised his eyebrows. “He didn’t.”
“Oh, he did. And I need your help paying him back. For eternity.”
Cas smiled. “Your lips are luscious,” he agreed.
“Ugh. Okay, that’s...just as bad.” He grew suddenly serious. “Hey, Cas...you think I could be a good social worker?”
Cas nearly came off the cot. He’d considered Sam in a variety of professions, none of which he could quite see him fitting. But when he said that...it felt like a key had turned in a lock.
“Sam...I think you’d be the very best.”
Part 8
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
When he’d lost Madison, he was sure he’d wanted to die: and he’d tried to.
There had been other moments, throughout treatment, when Sam deeply questioned his will to live, but the constant efforts of Dean and Cas pulled him back from that train of thought.
Now, alone in his hospital room, it seemed impossible that he’d ever come back from those feelings. There was no doubt in his mind that what he needed right now was to die. While the other times had been inspired by loss and guilt, this was a direct confirmation of his worst fears.
He was responsible for everything terrible that had happened the past few years.
He was viewed by everyone around him, even as far away as half a country, as the weakest, lamest member of the family, picked off with ease.
He had, repeatedly, wrecked Dean’s happiness with the one person who was truly worthy of him.
For the past two days, he’d been in this bed, burrowed under the new blanket Cas had bought. Dean had left his side only once: to consult with Michael and Cas, and then to return and tell him what he’d learned.
“Sammy,” he had murmured, his voice using that special, soft tone he used when Sam was sick or hurt or scared, “I know you didn’t do this to yourself. I saw that asshole in your room, and Cas and Michael just confirmed that there was a paralytic in your blood, which basically makes it impossible for you to have done this to yourself.” He squeezed Sam’s neck gently. “But even if you did, bud, you gotta know by now we would work through it. I’m not letting you go again. There’s nothing you can’t tell me.”
After that, it had been hours before Sam was able to confess what he knew: and even that left him feeling empty and hateful.
If he hadn’t been so weak, Dean and Cas would have been safe.
If he hadn’t been so selfish, Dean and Cas would have had the life they deserved.
If he hadn’t been a junkie, maybe Cas’s family would have been more open to Dean, and his big brother would have a whole new network of support.
Dean was sitting next to the bed, rubbing his back. Sam had told Dean and Cas everything he knew, then repeated it all to the police, and then lapsed back into silence. He was holding the amulet in one hand in Cas’s seeds and the other, but he didn’t feel even close to hopeful. “Hey, bud,” Dean murmured, shifting behind him and laying a hand on his arm. “You feel like talking yet?”
Sam didn’t answer. His brother cracked open a new Gatorade and shoving a straw inside. “You want to sip on this?” He faked a flying sound, and poked the straw against Sam’s unresponsive lips. “Okay...not thirsty.” He set the drink beside him. “No pressure or anything...but I’m awful lonely here by myself. It’s you and me against it all, right? So...you just leaving me hanging?” Dean smiled, one of his warmest, sweetest smiles, the one he always had for his brother, so he’d know it was all okay.
Sam felt his eyes fill. He loved Dean so much, and he knew his brother loved him, and trying to tell him that he was responsible for everything bad that had happened between the two of them, everything that had ruined their happiness was one of the hardest things he'd ever have to say.
“C’mon little brother,” Dean murmured, petting his head. “I know this wasn’t your fault, but even if it was, you gotta know we can work through it. We can work through anything.”
“You don’t know,” Sam whispered. His throat hurt: his voice was weak and shallow from the breathing tube.
“Alright.” Dean perched beside him. “Feel like sharing?”
“It wasn’t that he tried to manipulate me, Dean...it’s that I did it-I gave in at every turn. He sent Crowley...I bought it. He poisoned the salt...I ate it. I ruined everything you made for me.”
“Sammy-”
“No, Dean-I told you what he told me, and he was right. Your drinking only spiraled out of control because of me. You and Cas have only ever fought because of me-Crowley proves that. Without me, you could travel, and be together, and-”
“Sammy, goddamnit!” Dean snapped, and grabbed his brother’s shoulders. “Look-I get that you’re detoxing, and that’s going to bring up all sorts of sickness and shit, but don’t you dare think that I’d put you before anyone else.”
“You need to be with Cas now,” Sam managed, feeling a tear slip free.
“No-we need to be with Cas now.” Dean laid a warm hand on Sam’s chest. “We’re family-the three of us. Cas needs you. And I need you, Sammy.” Dean rubbed a gentle circle of his brother’s heart. “I know all this is probably making you depressed and confused and who knows what else, but I need you to talk to me, bro. Let me try and untangle you from whatever mental barbed wire you’ve got yourself wrapped up in.”
Sam felt something big give in his chest. “Dean...he-” Sam’s voice hitched. This was nothing like Crowley. Crowley had never been gentle, caring-he’d kept his hands to himself. And when he’d gone for more, it had been violent.
This was...so much worse. A weird, forced parody of the affection Dean had always shown him. A mocking of his brother’s tenderness.
“Did he touch you?” Dean demanded.
“No, no! Not like that. He just...he...held me. And...my hair...” Dean’s face softened. “I just-he acted like-like-”
“Like he cared,” Dean supplied. “That feels way worse than hurting.”
“Dean?”
His brother smiled sadly. “I get it. It’s just as abusive as bumps and bruises, kiddo. It taints kindness, tricks you into thinking you’re getting it.”
“Dean,” was all he could manage. Dean leaned forward and smoothed his hair, and it was so unmistakably Dean that he wondered how he ever could have thought Lou’s hand was anywhere close.
“I know,” he murmured. “I know, Sammy. It’ll fade, I promise.”
Sam suddenly shot up and gripped his brother against him, shaking so hard it hurt. Dean immediately drew him close and held tight, just like he always did when Sam needed him.
“I wish I’d never met Crowley,” Sam sobbed, “I hated myself every time, I kept thinking it’d get better, I’d see a way out, but I couldn’t. It was all a lie, all in my head, and I just kept believing it.”
“Shhh,” Dean murmured, rocking him gently. “It’s okay, Sammy. Let it go. I can take it.”
“I wanted to be here for you and Cas. And it’s like...disaster follows me.”
“Sammy, if we hadn’t come out here, Cas would be all alone, facing those monsters. I don’t know about you, but after seeing this, I’m even happier and more grateful that you’re my brother. And I didn’t think I could be prouder, or happier. Not every little pain in the ass out there would drop their life to tag along with their screw-up big brother’s boyfriend’s dysfunctional family.”
“I love Cas too,” Sam sniffed. “In a totally different way.”
“Even though you’ve now, officially, hooked up?”
Sam smacked his arm, hard. “I hate you.”
“Back at you, kid,” Dean smiled, pulling his brother’s shaggy head under his chin. “Right back at you.”
***
Cas sat in Michael’s office, staring at his phone, praying for it to ring with Rachel on the other end, telling him all was well. He hoped this wasn’t too much for her-knowing she was pregnant had stirred so many feelings in him. He missed her. He wanted to be involved with her and Victor. He wanted to be ‘Uncle Cas.’
Even better was Dean’s utter lack of jealousy. He seemed to like Victor, and made several comments to Cas about Rachel’s beauty, mainly “Dude, you have an ‘I Dream of Genie’ fetish,” playfully nudging him.
Rachel had also paid extra attention to Sam, telling him about life in the D.A.’s office and touching his arm when he appeared anxious. “If you decide you want to be a lawyer, I’ll secure you an internship,” she promised him. “If you don’t, good for you-go do something worthwhile,” she’d said with a wink.
Sitting in that office, Cas had never needed her more. More than when he left, more than when she told him she couldn’t be his wife, more than endless nights of stress and studying. Dean had put his faith entirely in Cas’s decisions, and Cas had chosen Rachel and Michael to bring justice for Sam.
If they failed, he failed-and he may never regain that trust from Dean.
The phone rang. Cas hit “answer” and barked “Hello?”, his heart racing.
“I knew you missed my voice,” an all too familiar, perky accent said.
“Peter,” Cas sighed.
“Oh don’t sound so blue. You’re missing nothing here, but we’re all missing you. How are you, mate?”
“This isn’t the best time,” Cas said carefully.
“What’s wrong?” Balthazzar’s tone shifted instantly into genuine concern.
“Nothing.”
“Cas.”
“One of my brothers attacked Sam,” Cas blurted out.
“What? Oh my God. Why?”
“He felt if Sam died of a drug overdose, it would cause Dean to relapse and drink again, and we’d break up.”
“That’s insanity.”
“It may very well be.”
“Do you want me to come out there?”
“Peter, you’re a pediatrician.”
“I’m much more than that-I’m a Brit. We had an empire where the sun never set. We stood alone against Hitler. We have a Queen AND a Democracy, and that blows your tiny little Yankee minds. Conquering and defense are in my blood. I could get on a plane and be King of New York by tomorrow, have the sonofabitch put to death by guillotine, and be back in Kansas in time for my next shift.”
Cas smiled. “I thought the French used the guillotine.”
“We chopped off our fair share of heads, I assure you.”
“I appreciate it, Peter...but right now, we just have to focus on Sam.”
“All joking aside-how is he, Cas? You could always consult Anna. You know she loves you.”
“Michael brought in some addiction specialists. They’ve done some wonderful work.”
“Wait-Mikey’s good now?”
A beep signaled call waiting. Cas glanced at it and saw ‘Rachel.’ “I have to go-I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure you’re alright? Is Sam?”
“Sam’ll be fine...and I will too.” The beep sounded again. “I have to take this call, Peter-I promise I’ll fill you in.”
“Alright...be careful.”
“Thank you,” Cas said, infusing his voice with as much sincerity as he could before quickly flipping over to Rachel. “Hello?”
“We have Lou,” she said calmly, the sound of law enforcement behind and around her. “He lawyered up and his attorneys are already offering pleas in exchange for taking down Raphael.”
Cas clenched his hand into a fist. “And Raphael?”
“We can’t go after him yet...but we will, Cas, I promise. I can’t prosecute this myself, you know: it’s a conflict of interest. But I know who will and I have faith in them, Cas. We’ll play them against each other until we have enough evidence to indict them both on something-even if it’s not Sam.”
Cas slumped against his brother’s desk. “Thank you, Rachel.”
“How’s Sam?”
“He’s...not really talking. I left him with Dean for a bit.”
“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“And you shouldn’t be out busting criminals-you have to think of your health.”
“This baby has law and order in his or her genes. Might as well get an early start.”
Cas felt a lump forming in his throat. “Rachel...I should have been more involved with you. I should have come to visit. I want...I want to know this baby.”
“Oh, Cas-of course you will.” Her voice softened. “Honey, you’ve had your hands so full...and so have I. We never resented each other for having to work or run all over the place, never. You will always be welcome in my life, and I know I’m welcome in yours. You don’t owe me anything. Even if I didn’t know you, I’m not about to let some psychopath kill a young man so he can take over an estate.”
Cas smiled, his eyes burning. “I know you wouldn’t.”
“Dean makes you happy, Cas-and you make him. I can see it. I’m so proud of you. You’re the most courageous person I know. And also the hardest on yourself. Don’t do this now. Lou is a sick man-we’ve known this for years. And Raphael is just taking advantage of that. I review crimes all day every day, Cas. I know what I’m saying, and this is not your fault.”
Cas felt a tear run down his cheek. “I love you, Rachel.”
“I love you too. I always will.” She smiled-he could feel it in her voice. “Go find Dean, and try to get some rest, okay? At the very least, go get coffee and some dinner. Lean on him. He loves you too-let him help you through this.”
“I will,” Cas said automatically.
“Please, Cas, I know you. Don’t withdrawal now. I was never the best at chasing after you, but I know Dean will. Don’t make him. Just let him help. You will feel so much better, I promise.”
Michael arrived just then, leaning against the doorframe, looking more disheveled than Cas could ever remember.
“I have to go, Rachel.”
“Take care, Cas. I’ll let you know what’s happening, every step of the way.”
“You take care: you’re looking after two.”
“I will, hon. Victor’s on it. Go to Dean now, alright?”
“I will,” he lied, and closed his phone, eyes boring into his brother’s. “Well?”
***
Sam was half-asleep, one hand tangled in his brother’s shirt, the other on Cas’s seeds. Dean was still beside him, alternating rubbing his back or his head. He still felt weak, and nauseous, and drained inside out. For the first time ever, he missed Rosemount. He missed Andy and Ash and Alan and Missouri. And he missed Cas-he knew he had to go, to deal with the law, but he wanted him to come back and explain everything that was happening in that calm, authoritative way he had.
He wanted the bed to be big enough for Dean to lay down behind him. He knew it was ridiculous to still need his big brother like that, but that’s how he felt. He was sick of being so sick, so weak. He was sick of being tired.
Like Dean could read his thoughts, his brother murmured “We’re gonna go home soon, kiddo. Go home and get you settled and we’ll watch TV and get Andy to swing by and get back to normal. Okay? All of this-Cas’s Dad passing too-will be easier to deal with there.”
“I’know,” Sam mumbled, and was about to tip over into full sleep when a sharp knock came at the door.
“Hi there,” a woman’s voice said. “I’m Jodi Mills, Social Worker. Her to have a little chat with Sam,” she said, smiling warmly.
Sam came awake with a jolt of terror. “No,” he gasped, sitting up. “I’m an adult-I’m more than an adult. You can’t take me.”
Jodi’s face dropped. “Of course I can’t...that’s not what I’m here for.”
“I’m ten years past eighteen. I’m seven past twenty-one. You can’t take me!”
“I’m not here to take you,” Jodi soothed. “I’m here to help you, Sam-to counsel you. I’m a trauma victim specialist. I speak with victims. I’m here to see if I can help you through this time.”
“But you’re a social worker.”
“Yes.” Jodi smiled and approached the bed. “Social workers help people connect to resources. They help counsel people through difficult times. I’m a counselor, Sam. I’m just here to see if I can help you get through this.”
“I have a counselor at home. I don’t need you.”
“Okay. Can I just ask you a few questions?”
“Sammy,” Dean broke in, “she’s not gonna hold you, man. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re gonna come home with us. I’ll sit right here, okay?”
“Actually...I was hoping to speak to Sam alone.” Jodi smiled again. “Sam, I don’t have any power here. I can’t force you to be held against your will. I just want to see how you’re doing. That’s my job.”
“Then why can’t Dean stay?”
“Protocol. Red tape. If Dean was hurting you, although based on your file I know he’s not, his presence would affect my evaluation.”
“Why do you need to do an evaluation?”
“So the hospital can cover its ass by saying it did everything it should.”
Sam looked at her warily. “Can you prevent me from going home?”
“No. Only the court can do that, and not based on this. There’s no record of you doing anything wrong, Sam. I counsel victims, not criminals.”
Sam tentatively released his brother. For the first time since all this started, he felt a spark of desire to do the right thing: to try and recover some part of himself.
“You should go, Dean,” he murmured. Dean looked at him like he was insane.
“No way.”
“No...really. You should track down Cas. I’ll be okay.”
“But-”
“I will.”
Dean gave him one of those looks-the soft, gentle ones. He looked into Sam’s eyes for a minute, than nodded and thumped him on the shoulder. “You stay with me, y’hear? Don’t check out again.”
“I won’t,” Sam promised. And he meant it. Dean cast a wary glance at Jodi, than ventured out of the room.
“He’s scruffy,” Jodi said, pulling his chair around to face Sam. “Been here for awhile, huh?”
“He’s my big brother.”
“He acts like one.” She sat down and crossed her legs. “I have a big sister myself. She can be pretty tough when provoked. And don’t even mention what happens if you mess with my little brother.”
“Why are you here? I thought social workers just evaluated kids to be split up from their homes.”
“Were you ever separated from your family, Sam?”
“What does that have to do with now?”
“Because you’re looking at me like I’m going to stab you.”
“I don’t know you. And I don’t like what you people do."
“Sam...may I call you Sam?”
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not. Listen to me-a social worker’s job is to connect people with resources. To help them solve problems. We exist in all walks of life-we work with the elderly, people on welfare, people with disease, alcoholics, drug addicts, eating disorders, people grieving, and yes-children in danger. We work as counselors: we can diagnose issues and recommend treatment. If you were removed from your home as a child, it’s because a social worker deemed you were in danger. I’m here to see if I can help prevent you from falling into the danger of post-traumatic stress from your recent trauma.”
Sam mulled this over. “So...you’re like a shrink?”
“I don’t have the PHD that would make me a doctor, but I can perform therapy to an extent. For cheaper than a shrink.” She smiled. “We don’t get into this line of work for the money or the ease of the job, Sam. We do it because we want to help people and we think we could be good at it.”
“Do you have to be free of any problems to do it?”
“I’m a trauma counselor-you think I’d be good at that if I hadn’t gone through trauma?” she asked, her eyes warm and soft. “Can I ask you some questions, Sam?”
Sam smiled and sat up a little straighter. “Sure...okay.”
***
Michael sank into the chair across from Cas and filled his brother in on everything that had gone on since he’d left. Cas listened, and nodded, thanked him, but couldn’t get past a certain obstacle.
“Why did you do this?” he asked, eyes glued to his brother. “I don’t’ believe you suddenly had a change of heart. It’s not like you.”
“I didn’t...it wasn’t sudden,” Michael sighed and rubbed his eyes. “After I visited you, I visited Rachel. I presented her with everything Father’s private investigator had presented to us. And she listened, and she took that evidence and, with her husband, and all their connections in law enforcement, they put together a dense and very different paper trail. One that showed Dean’s...criminal activities resulting in direct payments toward the family’s bills. Mostly during months where the boys would have needed provisions. Essentially-”
“Rachel and Victor provided evidence to everything I’d already told you was true.”
Cas knew he was cold, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Michael leaned forward, and Cas leaned back.
“They backed it up,” his elder brother said. “Cas-please, listen. This wasn’t how I wanted it to be. I-”
“What do you want?”
“We need you here, Cas. I need you. I can’t do this alone. If you don’t want to live here, that’s fine. Stay with them, even work part-time. I’ll arrange all your travel. I’ll pay off your mortgage, all off Sam’s medical expenses, school for Dean-anything you want.”
“I want out.”
“You don’t mean that. You still care.”
Of course he did. If nothing else, this weekend had proved that he hadn’t freed himself as much as he’d thought he had. But he’d be damned before he let Michael see that.
“Take my portion and sell it off.”
“Cas, please. Father always said...he always believed, the day he died, that I’d ascend into his shoes...run everything as he could. But I can’t...the past few days have proved that. Lou has been arrested. Raphael has been conspiring against me. The press is already saying I broke at the funeral. The investments are faltering with Dad’s death. I can’t oversee everything alone. Please...” Michael’s voice hitched, and he hung his head before gasping “help me.”
But Cas set his jaw, thought of the Winchesters, and said “I have a family to think of,” and marched away.
***
Jodi laughed when Sam told her about some of Missouri’s best moments, and said “see, we couldn’t get away with that here. I wish we could. I’d love to smack someone and tell them to shut the hell up.”
“She doesn’t do that all the time,” Sam said, laughing himself. “She’s really sweet, most of the time. But I appreciate it. She makes me work.”
“I’ll bet.” Jodi smiled. “Sam, I’m going to send my report to them, and say that I don’t believe you’ve relapsed, and that you seem to have a strong network of support. If there’s a trial, I’ll testify that you didn’t display any behavior that deemed a relapse, or an active addiction. You’re strong in recovery, and it shows.”
“You can tell all that? We just...talked.”
“I can tell from our talk,” she smiled, and tapped her pen on her note pad. “I’m that good, kiddo.”
“This is what you do? Really?”
“It’s part of it. If you were an addict, I’d try and guide you to resources that could help. If you had no support network, I’d try and guide you toward that. If you were combative, I’d wonder if you had more to do with this crime than you’re letting on. But you’re easy. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you never wanted this, and you have a support network, and the mere fact that you’ve been able to smile and laugh tells me you’re not suicidal or dangerously depressed. In fact, everything you’ve said makes me think you’re a strong, caring, motivated young man on a good track, who had something horrible done to him and refuses to let it ruin him or his family. Am I wrong?”
Sam looked down at the packet of seeds on the bed, than reached for the amulet around his neck. “No,” he said, smiling back at her. “You’re right.”
***
Cas left Michael, stormed to a waiting room, and did the only thing he could think of: he called Gabriel.
His brother answered sounding exhausted and tipsy, and Cas realized it was nearly three in the morning.
“Lou’s been arrested...he tried to kill Sam,” Cas opened. He explained it all to Gabe, between grunts and sips of something and ‘hm-mms.’
When he finished he waited, but Gabe didn’t say anything. He waited, heard the sound of clinking glasses or bottles, and finally ventured “Gabe?”
“Yeah...I’m here,” his brother sighed. “Look, kid...I love ya, you know that. But...I don’t get why you couldn’t have just come out here alone.”
Cas’s stomach sank. “Sam and Dean insisted. They wanted to be there for me.”
“Yeah, and I mean it when I say that’s great, but...you knew Lou was nuts. You knew Raphael’s been biting at Mike’s heels for ages. You knew this wouldn’t be easy. You really couldn’t have just...let this be about us?”
Heat flooded Cas’s face. “I...I felt...I needed them.”
“That’s just it...it’s like the last few years have just been about what you need. You haven’t tried to explain anything to anyone...including Mom. I visited you. I reached out to you. I called you. I pulled you out of the line of fire as a kid and I’ve tried to do it now.” His voice hitched. “I love you, kiddo, I do. But I can’t deal with this now. Dad’s dead...and that’s all I can handle.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying...I’ve been drinking, and I’m going to keep drinking, and that’s all I can do right now, bro. All this drama you’ve brought with you...you gotta deal with it without me. I’m sorry. This is too much. I can’t do this. Alright? I can’t. You’re gonna get to go home and have your great family, and I’m gonna be here, alone, with all of this. I can’t...Dad’s dead. I can’t. I...gotta go.”
Cas stood staring at the phone, Gabe’s number blinking, indicating the call had ended. Something inside him gave: the emotional dam he was so used to began to crumble down. It had been so long since he’d felt the pain of his family’s rejection that he’d believed himself to be immune to it.
And Gabe...Gabe had never...Gabe was his good brother. His best brother. The closest thing he had to a real brother.
Cas pushed his face against the phone and felt his eyes fill.
“Hey,” a familiar, loving rumble said from behind him. “Cas?”
“Gabriel said...it’s too much for him,” Cas gasped, and was instantly engulfed in the warmth and strength of Dean. “He said he can’t. He said...I had to deal with it alone.”
“Not alone,” Dean soothed, kissing him quickly on the cheek. “You’re not alone, Cas.”
Cas turned, buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m ashamed,” Cas admitted. “I’m ashamed of my brothers, of this life, of my name. I’m ashamed I never attempted to reach out to my father. I’m ashamed my mother rejected you in public. I’m ashamed of what Lou did to Sam. I’m ashamed I ran away from here and I’m ashamed I ran away from you and-” his voice cracked. “I’m not...used to feeling...so much at...once...”
“Shhh,” Dean murmured, and pulled him in close, circling him with his strong, warm arms, all confidence and strength. “I know, buddy,” he soothed, stroking the back of his head.
“I wish...I wish we hadn’t come here,” he gasped, digging his hands into Dean’s shirt. “I never wanted to come back here, Dean.”
“I know, man. But you can’t try and outrun all this-you’ve been trying for too long. And believe me, I get it. I get the urge.” He squeezed him, gently. “We’re your family, but they’re your blood. You gotta own that, shame and all.”
“I just want to go home,” Cas pleaded. Dean’s hand found the small of his back and rubbed a warm circle.
“And we’re gonna,” he soothed. “Soon as Sammy’s got the green light, we’re heading up and out of here. Be in our own bed before you know it. But part of you is still gonna be here, Cas. And I’d rather be with you when you face it than halfway across the country. So would Sammy.”
“I forgot...how lonely...it was. Here. I always felt...like a freak. Like...I was in...the wrong...skin.”
“What’s the ad say? ‘Love the skin you’re in?’”
Cas couldn’t help it-he laughed. Dean could always make him laugh. “I hate you.”
“I know you do.” Dean pulled back and smiled his warmest, softest smile, the one he usually reserved for Sam when he was ill or sobbing. “Listen-I know what it’s like to hate where you’re from. I do. But good had to have been here, or you and Gabe wouldn’t be what you are. Even Michael was able to get off his high horse long enough to save Sammy, and Lou, psycho that he is, was practically dragging Mikey around that church.”
“It’s not that simple, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean dropped his voice. “I know, man. But I also spent so many years hating so much of what I was, I forgot anything had ever been good. Sam too. I don’t want you to repeat that. It’ll take time, but you gotta try to remember, the man who you are now-the Cas that me and Sam and Bobby and Ellen and everyone back in our little Podunk, hillbilly, working class world love-came from here. So it couldn’t have all been evil, or you would have ingested it. It would have ingested you.”
Cas felt an overwhelming exhaustion. Listed slightly, only to have Dean catch and press him against his shoulder.
“C’mon,” he murmured, stroking the back of Cas’ head. “I got a cot set up in Sammy’s room. Let’s get you in bed, okay?” He kissed his temple lightly. “I gotcha.”
“Oh-Sam.” Cas pulled away, wiping his face. “How is he?”
“Worried about you. Sent me to find you and make sure you were okay.” Dean shook his head. “How I got stuck with both you ladies, I’ll never know. But somehow I did.”
Cas smiled through his tears. Maybe all his big brothers had abandoned him, but he had an adopted little one that made it seem so much better. An adopted little one who cared, and loved him, and worried for him, even when he was needing comfort and love and reassurance for himself.
Cas nodded weakly and let Dean lead the way to Sam’s room. The younger Winchester was half-asleep when they entered, but woke and mumbled something incoherent, to which Dean responded “go back to sleep, Sasquatch.” Cas stripped down to his undershirt, pulled off his belt, kicked off his shoes, and fell so hard onto the cot he was amazed he didn’t collapse it. Dean left to find another blanket, and Sam rolled over to smile at him, all sweetness and exhaustion.
“So...guess we met the family,” he chuckled. Cas felt his throat swell once more.
“I’m so sorry,” he managed. Sam’s face sobered.
“This wasn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you.”
“I should never have let you and Dean come here.”
“You didn’t. You told us not to. We followed you out here. And I’m glad we did. All this time I thought me and Dean owned the market on dysfunction.”
Cas felt his throat swell once more. Sam reached across the space between them and squeezed Cas’ arm.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I mean...it scared me to death, sure, but I’m okay, Cas. You and me and Dean...we’re still together. That’s what matters, right?”
Cas nodded and grasped Sam’s hand, squeezing lightly. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” he murmured once more. Sam squeezed his hand.
“I’m sorry. This was supposed to be about you.”
“It is.” Cas felt his eyes filling once more. “This is what I never wanted you and Dean to know.”
“Hey,” Sam chided. “Fair’s fair, huh? You took a slug to the face from our Dad barely three months in. We can take a few for you.”
“But I didn’t want this for you.” Cas’ voice broke. “I wanted to do right by you both-”
“You have,” Sam soothed. “And we’re gonna be home soon. You’ll see. It’ll be okay. We’ll help you.”
Cas felt a tear break loose. “Thank you, Sam,” he whispered, clutching his hand tightly against his chest.
“And listen-if Dean ever brings it up? I’m the better kisser. Even half-dead.”
Cas raised his eyebrows. “He didn’t.”
“Oh, he did. And I need your help paying him back. For eternity.”
Cas smiled. “Your lips are luscious,” he agreed.
“Ugh. Okay, that’s...just as bad.” He grew suddenly serious. “Hey, Cas...you think I could be a good social worker?”
Cas nearly came off the cot. He’d considered Sam in a variety of professions, none of which he could quite see him fitting. But when he said that...it felt like a key had turned in a lock.
“Sam...I think you’d be the very best.”
Part 8
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6