Chapter Text
There was a small cabin in the woods. Nothing to gloat about and nothing to really catch an outsider's eye. Based on the appearance, most may think it belonged to an old man living out the best of his retirement far away from any major cities or busy roads. The closest town was a thirty minute drive, and even that small place could be considered small and desolate. However, this cabin was home to a family of four. A family that was just as simple as everyone else nearby. Nothing glorious or unordinary as most may come to believe. Well, at least, that is what they wanted the outside world to think.
The head of the household was a man who went by the name Chuck. A squirrely man who never really got his hands dirty. If anything went bump in the night, he would have other people run off and chase down whatever animal was messing around in the garbage. He had very wild brown hair, curled like the end of a duck's tail, going every single direction possible. Wide set eyes with a bit of a button nose. A scraggly yet full looking beard that went from ear to ear. Always wearing a multi-stripe robe whenever he wasn't off at work, working at a newspaper company dedicated to writing tabloids and putting them into the mainstream media.
After him would be the woman of the house, now her name was Amara. She and Chuck were siblings, twins actually. However, they didn't know who was born first, but she was always assumed to be the one in charge of the everyday workings of life due to her stern and astute nature. Amara was a beautiful person with long chocolate brown hair that midway down her chest. Dark black eyes that could scare any man who dared to try and tell her where she belonged. Plump deep colored lips that complimented her jaw excellently. Whenever she was around, she would wear a black nightgown that was so dark, it would be nearly invisible once the sun fell. However, she would wear pantsuits whenever at her job in business where she was a CFO inspiring an entire company.
Next would be the eldest brother, Gabriel. Now, there is no easy way to describe Gabriel besides the fact that his family would describe him as a complete lunatic who was unafraid to be himself. A big jovent goofball who just wanted to make everyone laugh and have a good time. Bit of an asshole if you get on his bad side, but if you're his friend, chances are you may have had to run away from the police at one point in the friendship. A very eccentric soul which was evident by his looks. Bright full head of auburn hair that went down his neck in a sort of mullet, but more classy in his opinion. Wearing whatever he had on the night before, and a bit of a beard around his jawline depending on the day. If he had a job, no one in the family really wanted to know what it was.
Finally, the baby of the family, Castiel. A very kind yet naive soul who was never really the best at interacting with others. Soft spoken, only rude or aggressive when he feels like he's been betrayed. Loyal to his family, and always wanting everyone to get along. Always standing back when there is conflict, and nurturing whoever may have been affected during an argument to make sure they were alright. He had brilliant blue eyes that shined brighter than any tide within the ocean. Tight jaw with zero facial hair at all, a bit of a large nose, but nothing too extreme. Castiel loved to wear loose and comfortable clothing, and loved to wear jackets, hoodies, and coats.
However, there was something about the youngest child that the family tried to hide from others, something that should be normal. Something that every kid has at some point in their lives, but typically would have been grown out of by now. Castiel's father, Chuck, did everything that he could to make sure that the very thing that made Castiel different was never mentioned outside of the house. Ever. But, he didn't have to worry about that for much longer.
One day, on a very bright and sunny evening, the two children were playing in the yard. Around this time, Gabriel was about seventeen and Castiel was thirteen. The grass around the cabin was as green as geckos and the trees around stood tall and proud, as if they had been there for thousands of years, protecting the mountain and forest that the family lived in. There was a single tree in the middle of the yard, where two rope strung swings hung off of one large branch, the thickest one on the entire tree.
One swing was a pastel blue, while the other was a hunter green. Castiel sat in the blue, Gabriel in the green. They sat next to one another, swinging back and forth in a lazy manner as they spoke about the day they had. It was late summer, which meant school was starting back up. Actually, it was the first day of classes for that year, and the two brothers were excitingly telling one another.
Gabriel had his legs wrapped around one of the ropes, using his hand to push off the trunk of the tree to give himself momentum. "Lots of hot chicks, seriously, I don't think we've had this many blondes in high school since I was a freshman. A whole new pond has opened up for me, and I can only think of all the erotic possibilties."
Castiel couldn't suppress his bout of laughter from the other's statement, "Only you would think about that while learning what you need to bring to class everyday."
The younger brother has both of his feet on the ground, using the heels of his shoes to kick himself up every now and then to keep him swinging. For school that day, he had worn a dark purple baseball t-shirt with a black hoodie with the school's logo over it, coupled with a pair of blue jeans and sneakers. Not wanting to impress anyone, so he just wore whatever was comfortable.
On the other hand, Gabriel wore a very out and open outfit, which Castiel was a bit surprised followed the dress code. A dark yellow shirt with fishnets going from his wrists and connecting to the main shirt with very few chains, very tight booty shorts, and dark brown socks with a pair of Air Jordan's that were bright pink with the Nike symbol being pure white. Hair was slick back with some sort of gel, curling the ends of his hair to a sharp spike.
"Well, dear brother, once you decide to be horny, then you'll understand why you begin to think those thoughts." Gabriel commented. "Now- what about you?" He asks, a finger digging into his left ear and flicking some earwax onto the ground. "Anybody cute on the first day?"
He had to shake his head, because he didn't really find anyone attractive. It was 7th grade, a very awkward phase for people growing to be honest. Most of the guys were very lanky with arms way too big for their torsos and heads much too small for their ego. They all wore basketball shorts mostly. Then on top of that, all the girls wore push up bras and very revealing clothing to which by the end of the day, most had to put on coats or jackets because they would get dress coded.
"Not really, but it's just the first day. Maybe something will pop up eventually." Castiel tried to explain away.
"How about the rest of your day? You know I very obviously didn't pay attention to a word in my classes, but are you looking forward to any of yours?"
Castiel thought back, resting his head against the side of one of the robes, "I enjoyed pottery and ceramics. At the end of the year we have to make a three legged jar to be decorated anyway we want."
To be honest, his day at school was pretty bland. First days are never really exciting because there isn't any time to make friends besides lunch. Even so, Castiel decided to neglect the fact that ever since he started going to school, he has always eaten lunch alone besides elementary when Gabriel would eat with him. Also, he's never been the best at making friends. He only had one real friend and he didn't need anymore in his opinion.
His name was Dean, and they've been friends since they were both around five years old. One day Dean just showed up at Castiel's window in the middle of the day and asked if he wanted to play and be his friend. Of course the kid said yes and that was the beginning of a really long friendship. Dean was a country loving kid who always wore flannel jackets and cowboy boots. Which probably explained his odd desire for burgers and any pie imaginable. Everyday those two would hang out. Maybe that was one of the reasons why his dad never liked the other.
Not long later, there was a loud squeak. Which was a very common signal that someone was opening the front door to the cabin. The brothers divert their attention over, noticing that their Aunt Amara was now standing in the doorway, holding up the large blue and wooden door with her right palm. She must have just gotten back from work due to her light gray suit jacket and black leggings that she happened to be sporting. It also must have been a relaxing day at work due to her hair being pulled up into a bun.
"Boys, it's time for supper." She calls out to them in a silky soft voice.
"Coming!" The two yelled.
Scrambling, Gabriel undoes his legs and races towards the house, one of his shoes slamming into some mud beside the driveway as he did so. Castiel wasn't far behind, and due to his tinier stature, he lost the foot race, being the last one to go inside. Two sets of footsteps clambered over the two steps to get to the door, followed by a loud slam of the door.
Castiel's senses were immediately filled with the smell of rosemary chicken and potatoes, and he swore he could also catch the scent of cherry pie even though he couldn't see it from where he was standing. The inside of the cabin was also much warmer than it was outside, probably due to the fact that all of the windows had been closed while their meal was being prepared.
The inside of his home was just as amazing as the outside. It wasn't the most open concept, but it was enough to the point you could see mostly everything inside. To the left of the entry was a large rock chimney, to which a pair of red leather seats and glass table were in front for the dining room. Then over to the right was the kitchen, with bright white drawers and counters with black finishing and concrete countertops. There may have been no microwave, but there was a giant stove in the middle of an island with a silver heating element directly above that let the heat go outside.
Most of the floors within the home were made of a dark brown hardwood that matched the walls. Looking a little past that, however, was a single hallway split off into two. One side was his aunt's room while the other was his father's. Beside the hallway was a simple staircase with very narrow steps covered in a beige looking carpet that led to an upstairs. Up there was where Gabriel and Castiel slept. In between those two rooms was a play area which mainly had video game consoles and a tv now that they were in their teens.
"Come and get it!" Spoke a tired voice.
He looks over to the kitchen, seeing his father, Chuck, set out a couple plates down on the countertop in front of him, filled with food that had just been served up. These boys were like dogs in the way they suddenly ran forward, trying to trip one another to be the first over. Getting there at the same time, Castiel jabbed his elbow into Gabriel's ribs (who let out a shout) and grabbed the biggest plate before rushing back over and getting into his spot at the table which was one of the two chairs directly in front of the fireplace.
Gabriel returns to his seat beside Castiel and grumbles ' asshole ' underneath his breath so neither of the adults would hear. He could hear his aunt also mumble something about the two of them being hooligans, but that he probably misheard. Amara and Chuck did come over only a few minutes later with their plates stacked and sat beside one another and the opposite side of the table. Chuck sitting across from Castiel and Amara across from Gabriel.
"How was work, Auntie?" Gabriel asks while digging his fork into his check and simply picking it up without even cutting into it.
Amara raised a brow at Gabriel's actions as she delicately sliced off a piece of her potatoes, "Pretty good, I had to visit one of my branches today because they refused to fire two people by the end of the month. So, I went ahead and just did it for them. If they don't start listening and doing what I tell them, then I'm going to have to replace the regional manager."
"Why did you have to fire people?" Castiel asked, looking up from his plate. "Don't they still need the money as much as you do?"
"That is a good question. You see, Castiel, our company has to give money to everyone to pay people for doing their jobs, right?" She asks which Castiel nods. "Right now, we have too many people to pay versus the money that we are getting from people. So, I told them to fire two people who had either the lowest sales, hardly came in, just workers that didn't do their job properly. This way it'll save the company money and time."
"I guess that makes sense..." He mumbles.
He never really understood how Amara can be so cold at times towards people. Never once as he imagined just getting rid of someone for money. Maybe that's a good reason why he never wants to work retail or work in a corporate office like his aunt does. Again, he didn't know what he wanted to do considering he was only thirteen years old, but it was good to have a basic understanding of what he didn't want to do.
"What about you pops?" Gabriel looks up to his father, "How's the tabloid?"
Chuck glares at his oldest son, not speaking right away, but his words were terse. "It's not a tabloid, Gabe. I've told you that at least twelve times."
Gabriel rolled his eyes, with a mouth full of chicken he asked, "Fuh-ne. How its tha-h cohmpahct cuhleb arhtacle?" He says with a cheesy smirk, shredded chicken dripping back onto the plate.
Castiel giggles quietly, but quickly bites his lip as his father gives him the glare instead.
"It's difficult. My last proposal on how to catch popular media along with the politics of mainstream ideals was rejected so now we have to stop using technology and use only picture evidence opposed to word of mouth from other celebrities." Chuck said simply, rubbing a hand down the back of his neck, his tight shoulders relaxing slightly at the touch.
"I told you he was going to reject it." Amara said in a precise tone.
"You said he wouldn't approve it because it wasn't written properly." Chuck argues.
Amara sets down her fork and picks up a napkin, dapping her lips with it before turning to look at her brother. "Because you said 'the internet' when you should have listed examples of it. The internet is still the wild west, brother. Naming websites would have gotten it approved."
"That's just fluffing it up." He said, rolling his eyes.
"But it works."
As those two were talking, Gabriel had his cell phone out from underneath the table and was texting away. Probably one of the ladies he appeared interested in his classes. At least he had a distraction from this very adult and annoying conversation. Castiel just stays quiet and continues eating while they argue.
Most of the time, he didn't understand why Amara and Chuck agreed to live together. Sure, there was the obvious answer. After their mother died when Castiel was born, someone needed to step up and help his dad raise two kids, especially a newborn while trying to work. So, his aunt stood up and agreed to help and contribute to the finances. However, they were still siblings and siblings will always bicker, no matter the circumstances. They would always argue over tiny things, which is fine, supposively. It was just an awkward situation to be in when the bitter comments start to turn aggressive, which it always does.
Just as he was beginning to drift off to the world of his imagination, something was caught in his peripheral vision which made him smile. Glancing over to have a better few, Castiel's eyes landed at the small wall where the stairs were, and on the bottom step, he saw it. Dean, his friend. Only the top part of his body was poking out so it was a little difficult to see him.
That day, the friend was wearing a simple black t-shirt with red writing on it saying 'Led Zeppelin' as well as a necklace. Now, that was a necklace that he has always seen the other wear. It was a metal sword with a pair of wings on the back of it with the words 'Protect and Guard' on the back of it. His brown yet blond hair was actually styled off to the side, and his bright green eyes which always sparkled like emeralds were looking at Castiel with a mischievous smirk.
Castiel smiles, and waves slightly. Dean waves back before jutting his head forward, and then up towards the stairs. Immediately, Castiel follows the direction and sees that the other was referencing the food. He nods quickly and gives a subtle thumbs up. The other's eyes widened and gave a big smile before rushing up the stairs.
He looks back over at the adults in the room, and it's obvious they're still fighting. However, even in this state, they would obviously notice if he would just get up and walk over to get a seperate plate. But, his own plate still had some food on it that he could sneak up. So, Castiel very carefully and slowly picked up his plate from the table, scooted out his chair, walked to the stairs, and the moment his foot made contact with the bottom step he then booked it straight up the stairs and to his room.
Rushing through the hall and through the plain white wooden door before walking through and closing it behind him. With a relieved sigh he smiles, "Got it!" He says triumphantly.
"Thank GOD! I am starving!" Dean says earnestly.
With much excitement, the other thirteen year old boy takes hold of the porcelain plate and flops down in the middle of the floor and starts eating the food with his hands. The rest of Castiel's room was extremely nice, and he was happy Dean decided to eat on the floor because he hated when his bed or desk would get covered in crumbles.
To one side of the room, there was a bed which was just a plain blue cover with white pillows. Along the walls were pictures of outer space and a couple of Disney movies that he enjoyed. The ceiling had sticks on stars that glow in the dark, as well as some pictures of bees due to that being his favorite animal. In the far back was a white desk with papers and pencils for homework shewed about, and his dresser was right behind it which had a lamp that was the only source of light in the entire room.
Castiel chuckled slightly and sat down in front of the other as he ate and took off the hoodie he was wearing due to how hot it was before tossing it over on his bed with a big yawn, even popping his back while he was at it. His eyes glanced back over at the other's plate and quickly noticed that it was almost gone.
"Woah, slow down! You're either going to give yourself the hiccups or you'll choke." He teases.
"Well, I don't have a gag reflex so the last one probably won't work." Dean responds, joking back before tossing the plate off to the side and licking his fingers clean.
He shrugs, "I guess so." Castiel smiles and looks to the other, "What you been doing all day?"
Dean shrugs, leaning backwards and using the backs of his hands to prop himself up. "Just been chillin. A part of me wanted to rig up your dad's alarm clock to explode the moment he touched it, but he's been nice to you so far this week so I'll save that for when he's being a dick."
"I'm surprised you didn't do it, that hasn't stopped you before." He points out.
"Truuuueeee.... But! It was your first day of 7th grade so I wanted him in a good mood when you came back home so he'd ask you about your day and such. Speaking of-" He nudged the other in the shoulder. "How was it? Tell me all about it."
Castiel smirks before speaking. Not even wasting a moment before spilling his guts over exactly how his day went. The good, the bad, the ugly. There was once a point in time where he wouldn't tell Dean everything that was going on, because he wanted to make the others proud of him. Yet, the other always knew when the other was lying about his day, so he saw no point in hiding it anymore. He spoke about how old his first period teacher was, how cranky the P.E. teacher happened to be, and that his favorite class was definitely going to be art because there were just so many projects to be done and couldn't wait to bring them home to show Dean.
The more and more that he kept talking, the less and less that he was noticing how tense he happened to be downstairs. His shoulders were no longer tight, no more was he asking questions and stressing out what it must be like as an adult, and just the worry of saying the wrong thing to send his father into a more aggravating stupor was enough for Castiel to be at peace.
Eventually, it got to a point where there was nothing else to talk about how his day went, so he sighed heavily and flops his body down on the carpet, eyes staring up at the star and bee ceiling with a smile. Not longer later did Dean copy the action and lay down beside the other.
"Sounds like you had a busy day." Dean comments.
"I have homework that I should be doing. The only one I completed was the cartoon drawing for Artistic Design 201." Castiel admits.
"Eh, I don't think it matters. As long as you pass your art classes you'll be fine."
He raised a brow, and turned his head to the side, his eyes focused on the other's smooth cheek. "What makes you say that? It's probably the least important out of all the classes."
"Because it's what you love!" Dean said simply, now turning his own head to look at Castiel, "If you go to college, you should be an Art Major."
"You really think so?"
"Well, why not? If you love it, do it! If the passion is there, God will find a way to bless you for it."
"Dad doesn't think art can be anything more than a hobby."
"Who gives a fuck what he thinks? Cas, if you love it, then go for it."
"Maybe I will." Castiel said with a smile.
With a bit of a smirk, Dean looks up at the ceiling, admiring the fake stars that had been plastered there. All the while, Castiel was admiring the others' features. The way the others freckles danced across his nose, the dawning sun casting a shadow through the random locks of hair, and the sparkles of and specks of light twinkling in the others eyes. If only he had the nerve to actually say or do anything with Dean in public, maybe they wouldn't have to stay confined to the upstairs of the home to be together.
After a bit more of silence, a scent hit his nose like a ton of bricks. The unmistakable smell of hot cherry pie coming out of the oven from downstairs. It made his mouth water, and because of that, he knew the exact question that the other was going to ask once he sat up with wide and joyful eyes.
"Please tell me you smell that, too!" Dean proclaims.
"I do." Castiel smirks.
Dean immediately stands up, rubbing his hands together while licking his lips. "Cas, please go get it! I'll sneak down and steal ice cream on top if you do."
Castiel playfully rolled his eyes before sitting up, a hand going on the bed to pull himself up to stand. "It's going to be too hot."
"Bitch please! Has that ever stopped us before?"
"Not necessarily."
Now that expectant look on Dean's face was enough for Castiel to fall into the others trap. It's not like he wasn't going to go down and get a couple pieces anyways, but now it was set in stone. So, he did what the other wanted. With an over dramatic sigh, he leaves the room and heads downstairs towards the kitchen and dining room, however, now that he wasn't talking to Dean, he heard every little word that was being thrown around in the kitchen.
Amara and Chuck were arguing still, over something so small, and now it has just escalated as it always does. The two of them were now standing by the fireplace, arms folded and pouting while yelling absinates at one another. His aunt was rolling her eyes as his father kept mocking and doing whatever he needed to annoy her. All the while, Gabriel was in the kitchen, scrolling through his phone with the pie sitting at his side.
The young son glances over at the two adults before walking over to his older brother, keeping his head down and just trying his best to not draw any attention to himself.
"Your help!?" Chuck suddenly shouts, nearly laughing from absurdity. "Why would I want your help in how I work my job!?"
"Because-" Amara glared, "I am the CFO, and I didn't get there without hard work and learning how to spruce up my boss."
"Can't exactly sleep with my boss to get what I want."
His aunt gasped, and placed both of her hands on her hips. "How dare you accuse me of that!? You know I would never ever stoop so low."
"That's the only reason why you got to where you are. If I wasn't the breadwinner of this family-"
"Oh ho ho! Now that's rich. You? The breadwinner? You can barely afford a moldy loaf of bread with your income. If it wasn't for me, you and those boys would be on the streets right now."
Castiel swallows thickly, and looks over to his brother, maybe seeking some sort of verbal confirmation if that was true. Did his father actually make that little? Or was that just an attack to hurt Chuck further? However, Gabriel didn't look up from his phone, so there was no way of knowing. So, Castiel just grabbed a plate from one of the drawers in the kitchen as well as a knife to start cutting up the pie.
"I may not make the most, but I at least parent my children and don't let them run around with fantasies out of this home, unlike you who encourages it when you it is deeply abnormal!"
Amara scoffs, and walks a few feet away from the other, heels clicking against the floor, "Maybe if you got the help he needed when I told you to, then I wouldn't be encouraging it."
"YOU BAKED A DAMN PIE TO REINFORCE THE DELUSION!" Chuck shouted.
Wait, what?
He looked up from the counter, and his eyes were met with both adults staring right at him. One filled with anger and the other with empathy and frustration. What did that mean to 'reinforce the delusion'?
"Castiel, where are you taking those slices?" His father asks, tilting his head with a knowing look.
"Leave him out of this, Chuck!" Amara shouts at her brother, to no avail.
Castiel bites his bottom lip, glancing over at his older brother who finally took his attention away from his phone long enough to survey and realize what was going on. Now three sets of eyes were on him, and he never liked being the center of attention.
"T-to my room." He stumbled.
"To give to Dean?" He asks, taking a few steps forward.
"Chuck, that's enough!" Amara huffed.
"I-I-" Castiel gulps, his hands shaking.
"ANSWER ME GOD DAMMIT!" His father yelled.
"I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!" His aunt yelled once more, now full on shoving her brother to get him to stop. However, Chuck was deadlocked, and hardly acknowledged what she did.
"He... he said he wanted some..." Castiel says in a small whisper. "I-It's one of his favorite foods."
That was confirmation enough for his father, who completely leaves his side from the fireplace and walks directly to the kitchen, only to stand in front of his youngest son, only having the countertop to divide the two of them apart. All of his anger that was towards his sister was now being redirected to Castiel, which only spelled trouble.
"No it's not! It's yours and you're too much of a glutton to see it!" Chuck corrects. "Stop lying to me."
Castiel shakes his head, "I'm not lying-"
"Then how come Dean never comes down here and gets it himself? Hmm?"
"You don't like him!" Castiel defends.
"And you know why!"
"Dad, quit it." Gabriel suddenly spoke up, but his father just wouldn't listen.
"He's fucking imaginary! He does not exist and yet you act like he still does! You're thirteen years old Castiel! Maybe when you were five or seven it was cute, it was supposed to be a phase, but you still have yet to grow out of it!? You act as if he's your best friend, that he has these wonderful adventures with you- and has a whole fucking personality that is so different than you!"
Tears began to well in Castiel's eyes, making his vision extremely blurry, but he fought the urge to blink. Knowing that the moment he does, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from crying. They have had this argument hundreds of times before, but never like this. It's always coming from a place of sincerity, worry, wondering why he had the need to make up a person. Yes, he knows that Dean isn't real... but in his heart, Dean was.
"Why can't you just be a normal fucking kid with friends!? Instead you're this kid who never leaves the house and is obsessed with a fake fucking asshole! You're just a pathetic loser who will never amount to anything in life."
Now, that broke him. He shouldn't have blinked, now the tears were pouring down his cheeks. Didn't even wait a moment before dropping the two plates that he was holding in his hands, that shattered once they met the ground. Castiel needed to get out of there, he had to leave right now. All he heard from then on was white noise, deafening him as he ran, just ran out of there. He didn't hear Amara and Gabriel shouting, didn't see how quickly his older brother was about to beat his father, none of it.
He ran upstairs and to his room, slammed the door behind himself and crawled into the middle of his bed. Pulling his legs close up to his chest, sobbing into his pants. A burning ache filled his heart, and his mind was on autopilot.
How could Dad say that to me? Am I really that abnormal? Why was he such an idiot?
Yes, I know Dean isn't real, but somehow he just is! Why am I such a fucking idiot? I didn't have a trauma to create a friend, he just is one!
Does Dad really think that low of me? Just because Dean was his friend? Dad hates me because of Dean? This is all Dean's fault!
How could Dean do this to me? He knows what Dad thinks of him! Yet, he wanted pie so badly, it resulted in Dad yelling at me...
There was a sudden change of pressure on the bed, causing Castiel to look up with his blood shot eyes and runny nose. There he was, Dean, sitting directly beside the other with a sad and gloomy look on his face. The sadness in Castiel's soul morphed to anger by just looking at him, his shaking hands quickly turned into fists.
"Hey... are you okay? I heard what your dad said." Dean said gently.
"Why did I ever create you...?" He mumbles under his breath.
Dean tilted his head slightly, "What do you mean?"
"How come no one else can freaking see you!?" Castiel scoffs. "I get that you're imaginary, but all you ever do is get me in trouble!"
"All I've done is help you, Cas. Everything I've ever done has been for you." The other said carefully, "Where is this all coming from?"
"You ruined my life!" He yells, causing Dean to sit a bit backwards, "I hate you! I hate you so freaking much! Why can't you just leave me alone and never come back!?"
The other swallows thickly, his eyes falling down to look away from Castiel, clearly not knowing what to say. "You don't mean that."
"Yes I do! I wish I never made you up! I wish you would just die and let me live my damn life! Ever since you showed up my dad has looked at me differently! I don't know why I made you up, why I made you love food, why you dress like some cowboy reject even though I hate anything relating to that side of the world."
"Don't say that, I know you're just mad right now because of what your dad said, but I'm your friend. Cas-" Dean said gently, getting up on his knees slightly and putting a hand on the other's shoulder, but that was the beginning of the end.
Something just overcame the thirteen year old, a blind rage that he had never felt before once in his entire life. It all happened so fast, but Castiel suddenly just got up, shoved the other off the bed, causing a loud thud, crawled on top of him and began beating his fists into Dean's chest, face, neck, anywhere his hands could reach.
"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" He just screamed at the top of his lungs, sobbing with tears falling down the bridge of his nose.
He could feel his hands getting wet, but all of the pain was just surging through his body. By the time Castiel finished this sudden beating, his eyes closed tightly as he just kept sobbing, body convulsing with how strongly they became. However, once he opened his eyes, even through the blur, Castiel blinked, confused.
Where did Dean go? He just disappeared. Sniffling, Castiel rubs his wrist against his nose and his palms over his eyes. Glancing around the room with a heavy and shaky breath. Oh god, what did he do now? He didn't mean it. Castiel swore he didn't mean it.
His throat was tight as he tried to breathe, a hand rubbed at his neck. "D-Dean...?" He calls out gently, before yelling, "DEAN!"