Archive of Our Own

Whenever he walks down the street, he hears the whispers. Despite what everyone seems to think, he isn't stupid—he knows he doesn't fit in, knows he isn't really accepted despite the results of the vote that had decided his fate last winter. They'd only voted not to kill him; they never voted on whether or not they should treat him as they treat everyone else.

He pulls his wings closer to his body when the whispering and staring increases as he walks further into town, tightening his grip on his bag as he goes. Dean has been trying to grant him more independence lately. He can somewhat read now and knows enough about Lebanon to know how to navigate the streets and count out the money he needs in order to buy the bread he'd been sent for (though he has no doubts that the baker would be willing to help him if he needs it, since she's apparently Ellen's friend).

He's happy to do it and enjoys feeling important, but Castiel can't help but wonder if Dean would be as willing to send him out alone if he knew what people were saying behind his back…

"There goes the bird-boy, pretending he's human…"

"I hope it's not diseased or anything…"

"What a freak. Do we really have to treat that like a civilian?"

"Man, what I wouldn't do to have those wings to myself, with or without the boy…"

He swallows uncomfortably and pulls his trench coat around himself more tightly. But as long as the people here keep their criticisms to themselves when he's with someone else, he'll just try to ignore it. Dean has enough things to worry about without him adding something else on top of it…

He enters the bread shop, and the woman at the counter—Mildred, she calls herself—smiles at him. "Hello, Castiel. Ellen send you on a bread-run?" He nods seriously, handing her the list Ellen had written earlier. "All right, lemme get this order all set up. Why don't you start counting out your coins, okay?"

Castiel dumps his bag on the counter and begins carefully counting out the correct amount. It takes him a while and the baker finishes long before he does, but he does it all on his own, and when the baker tells him that he'd paid the correct amount, he can't help but beam in response as she places the bread in his bag.

On the walk home, his good mood is considerably dampened by the reactions of the people around him. The stares are accompanied by the more-than-occasional scowl. The whispering grows louder the less public the street that he's on. People stop right in the middle of the road just to look at him, to wonder aloud what he's doing here and why he doesn't return to the forest.

He does come across a big, hairy dog at some point, though. He stops and pets it for a while and it licks across his face with its big, wet tongue before following him all the way to the edge of town. Castiel notices that when the dog is with him, no one says a word.

But as much as he'd like to bring the dog home, he knows he can't, because Dean doesn't like dogs like Sam does. Besides, it might try to roughhouse with the chickens, like he'd caught the aggressive bird with the impressive tail doing one time before he chased it away. So he returns to the Harvelle Ranch alone and slips inside the house just as the sun begins setting. Dean greets him with a pat on the shoulder and a kiss on the forehead as he takes the bag of bread from him.

Later, Ellen praises him as she's slicing into the bread, and Jo tells them all a story about how a cow had kicked her earlier (this is why he doesn't trust the cows) when she was milking it, making Dean laugh and talk about a similar experience happening to him years ago, since time apparently makes things less 'embarrassing'.

When they ask if anything exciting happened to him that day, instead of mentioning the looks he's been getting since he first started going out alone, he tells them about the hairy dog with the wet tongue. They all smile at him, so he thinks he made the right decision when selecting which story to tell.

-

It's easy enough to ignore, most of the time. Dean always says he has his 'head in the clouds,' which is apparently how people describe those that are easily distracted. Maybe he is. When he's huddled in the chicken coop preening his flock, he often forgets most things, leading him to be surprised when someone approaches and tells him it's already time to eat again.

(Then again, he's never exactly had a regular eating or sleep schedule before, and certainly nothing with the variety that Ellen offers. He just ate or slept whenever he wanted and often went hungry, especially during winters where the small lake froze over and food outside of bark or roots was otherwise very scarce.)

Most of the time, Castiel is with someone when he goes to town, anyway, and even when he starts out alone, he doesn't usually stay that way, often finding himself being followed by unclaimed cats or dogs or the occasional farm animal. Most of the time, he goes out in the daylight to run simple errands at places Ellen or Dean trust.

This is not most of the time. Today, they'd run out of food for the animals that live in the 'barn,' and after seeing how busy Dean was helping Bobby with something, he'd volunteered to pick it up. Ellen hesitated, but eventually agreed, giving him a list of what she needed and the exact change needed to pick up the animal food.

The trip to the shop was uneventful, and the man running it barely spared him a glance, just taking his list and money and handing the animal food back. It's a lot different than Castiel is used to, where the owner of whatever shop he's sent to knows his name and situation and attempts conversation, so he's not quite sure how to act in this shop.

To make things even more different, by the time he's on his way back to the Harvelle Ranch, the sun has set and the streets are dark and deserted. Castiel can see in the dark pretty well—much better than his new family can, he understands—but it's still uncomfortably dim, so he walks a little faster than usual, not taking the time to look at any sights or anything.

When he's at the edge of the town, he hears someone murmur, "On second thought, those would look good on my mantle…"

Castiel glances around quickly, only to be forcibly shoved to the ground, landing on his stomach as the basket of animal food he'd been carrying falls from his hand and ends up on the ground. He squirms as a heavy boot lands on his back, stepping down right between his wings, which are currently covered by his trench coat.

"It's a shame, really," the oddly familiar voice continues. "The sheriff says you're under her protection now. Not sure how you managed that one, freak, but that's the only thing keeping me from cutting your wings off right here and now."

"W-what?" he manages to squeak out as the foot presses harder and more air is forced from his chest. "Let me go!"

"No, I don't think I will. See, I don't like you, and I don't trust you. You're a monster."

"I-I'm not," he protests quietly, because that's what Dean would say if he were here. "I'm Castiel. I like…mushroom risotto and crab cakes and…chickens…"

"Oh? You're not a monster?" Castiel shakes his head, though he's not entirely sure about his own answer. "In that case, I better get off of you, huh?"

Oh. If everything is this simple, perhaps he should use Dean's solutions more often. "Yes, please. The fluffy sheeps and cows are hungry."

The boot retracts, but as Castiel begins pushing himself up, he's abruptly stomped back down. Before he can fully process what happened, he's kicked harshly in the back as the man above him laughs. "It really does think it's people!"

The kicks continue, each seeming harsher than the last as they land on his folded wings, making the recently healed break in the bone ache. He just curls up on his side to try to protect himself, but when that doesn't do anything, he decides to play dead; that always worked when there was an animal that seemed like it wanted to eat him…

The man barks out a laugh. "C'mon, I'm not an idiot. I know you're just playing possum." He persistently doesn't answer, doesn't even twitch, even as he's kicked so that he's lying face-up on his sore back, now facing his attacker. His eyes are squeezed shut, unwilling to see the hateful glare he's undoubtedly receiving, and the man eventually scoffs. "Fine. See how far that'll get you in life. In the meantime, keep this in mind."

Castiel's chin is suddenly grabbed and yanked backwards, and his eyes fly open in surprise and fear, the action so different from when Dean does it. The man, he realizes now, is the same one that had pinned him down and attacked him in the barn right before he was dragged away from Dean and the Harvelle Ranch.

He'd never told Dean what had happened in between when he was taken away and when he was imprisoned, never told Dean about the sharp edges of the nets cutting into the sensitive skin of his wings, cutting him deeper and hurting more than even the thickest jagger bush. He never told Dean about how the people had yelled at him and twisted his limbs beyond their limits as he desperately jerked away, never told him how they had gotten him down and kicked him like this, snapping their stinging ropes against his skin whenever he did something they viewed as resisting.

He'd never told Dean any of this because he already worries about so many things. But now, staring into a dark, cold pair of eyes he'd seen only once before, the memories he'd tried his hardest to suppress come flooding back, and he almost wishes he'd confided in Dean, if only to learn how to protect himself from it happening again.

As if realizing this, the man above him smirks as he leans down, one knee digging into Castiel's arm as he leans in close to his ear. "You tell anyone about what happened here and I'll do the same to them, only worse. You're only protected now because you're new and exotic. When you're old news, nobody will care what happens to you—just like those friends of yours. Wouldn't it be a shame if they were to find themselves in a position like this?"

"But they're not monsters," he points out mostly to himself, confusion momentarily overriding fear.

"But they're close to one, and that's almost worse. That means they choose to be around one." Castiel swallows, trapped wings twitching from where they're being crushed under his body weight. "Now, I believe we've reached an understanding, haven't we?" He nods hastily, wanting nothing more than to get away to hide until everything's okay again. "Good."

The man gets up, then, and stalks away, never glancing back once. Castiel waits until he's out of sight before hurriedly scooping up the animal food he'd dropped and all but running back home, trying his hardest not to cry.

When he returns to the Harvelle Ranch, he finds that he already feels better. Ellen takes the basket and thanks him with a kiss on the forehead, her hand lingering to brush some of the dirt from his face. Jo says something about letting him try his hand at feeding the sheeps. Dean…Dean comes in after a long day of working with Bobby, his face smudged with ash and oil from working at the hot fire all day, and smiles at him, hooking one arm around the back of his neck and kissing his nose, which always makes him smile.

By the time he settles into their room that night to scent mark the sheets, he nearly forgets that he's even injured. But as soon as his back makes contact with the bed, he's reminded and immediately stops, moving his wings to conceal his back.

"Everything okay?" Dean asks, since they've had this routine for some time now.

"I…yes. I just…" He hesitates, remembering the threats but not wanting to lie to Dean. In the end, he asks something he's been wanting to ask for a while: "Will you…rub your scent on the bed instead? Our nest always smells more like me than it does you."

Dean seems somewhere between surprised and amused, chuckling to himself. "Sure thing, sweetheart. What am I rubbing?"

"Anything. Just…skin."

So that night, Dean peels his shirt off and rubs his back against the sheets until Castiel tells him to stop and they settle in together. His back twinges again when Dean puts an arm around his waist from where Castiel's perched on top of his chest, but he pushes down the feeling and just enjoys Dean's presence with a content sigh.

-

The beatings, as he learns they're called, continue. Every time he's caught alone, someone—sometimes the one from the barn, Gordon, or sometimes someone else, usually accompanied by Gordon—will always end up knocking him down and kicking him. One time, a group had even thrown rocks at him as he scuttled past.

The obvious solution would be to never go out alone, but everyone is always busy on the farm and he's finally becoming useful as they grow more and more comfortable relying on him. Still, he can't help but cling to Dean a little tighter at night when he's sent out to run errands, loving when Dean holds him just as tightly even as he winces when pressure is applied to his hidden injuries.

It's easy enough to hide them at first, between his trench coat and his wings, but as 'summer' begins creeping in, he finds that it's too hot to comfortably wear his coat all the time. But he doesn't really have a choice, when it comes between having leaking skin or having Dean worry about him even more than he already does. As it grows warmer and warmer, however, people start asking questions.

"Aren't you hot, hun?" Ellen asks as she dices the potatoes he'd retrieved a few days ago, earning him a particularly painful spot on his lower back. "Why don't you take it off, huh?"

"Still one with the coat, ey, Castiel?" Ash, the ranch's farmhand, hums, nodding in apparent approval.

"Cas, you're gonna sweat to death. Take that thing off," Jo says, exasperated as she takes the basket of eggs from him one morning.

"Cas, as cute as you are all bundled up like that," Dean murmurs one evening when Castiel once again asks him to scent mark the bed for him, "you're gonna wake up in a puddle, and that puddle will be all over me. You gotta stop wearing it, buddy. It's too hot out for a heavy coat like that."

Castiel replies in somewhat the same way every time. He acknowledges the statement politely, ignoring the truth he always finds in it, and says something along the lines of being able to decide that for himself. For whatever reason, whenever he references never really getting the opportunity to make his own choices before beyond what he had to do to survive, all other arguments drop. He's not sure why.

He has to accommodate for the bruises more and more as the frequency of his beatings increases. At night, it becomes too painful for Dean to lay an arm around him, so they experience 'spooning' again, only Castiel is usually the one wrapped around Dean when they're not facing each other. It's nice, but he really does prefer to be held and he thinks Dean prefers to hold him, too. He does enjoy being able to fan his wing over Dean as a blanket, however.

Still, beyond the coat, no one seems to notice anything is amiss. That is, until he encounters Gordon in the bread shop one afternoon, Dean thankfully by his side. Without thinking about it, he tucks in close to Dean's side, hiding partially behind his back.

"Hey, Cas, what's gotten into you, suddenly all cuddly like this, huh?" Dean chuckles, using the hand that isn't holding a basket to run his fingers through his hair. "I know Mildred's a tiger, but she won't bite."

The baker, Mildred, hears the statement and smirks. Gordon also hears, it seems, as he spins around and locks eyes with Castiel, who buries his face in the back of Dean's neck with a soft, panicked trill. Dean continues smoothing down his hair before bringing him into a one-armed hug and holding him close to his side. He can tell Dean is suspicious about something, but he thankfully doesn't do anything about it as they're called to the front of the store to select their breads.

Still, it was a close call.

The next close call happens one day when Castiel is bathing in the river behind the Harvelle Ranch, carefully washing over his sore back and wings. He's chirping softly to himself in a tune Gabriel used to sing to him when he was younger, and he doesn't even realize he's not alone until he hears the water gently splashing behind him.

Castiel turns around so quickly that his neck cracks and sees a grinning Dean plodding into the water. He's shirtless and is only wearing a pair of shorts, making Castiel feel overdressed in his long pants. He tries not to show it, however, instead facing Dean and pressing his aching wings close to his back, hiding any bruises.

"Hello, Dean." Dean smiles, pulling him into a hug that makes their sweaty or water-wet chests stick together uncomfortably, making Castiel frown and Dean laugh as he runs his fingers through his wet hair.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's it going? Decided to rekindle your hatred with the bathtub?" Castiel ignores the question in favor of pressing his face into Dean's neck, biting at his collarbone after a moment. Dean laughs and pulls his face up to kiss him, one hand moving to pet beneath Castiel's wing, which makes him wince and Dean pull away. "Cas? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He moves to kiss Dean again even as his wing twitches and tries to subtly knock the hand away, but Dean pulls his head back. "Dean?"

"Y'know, I feel like this is the first time in months I've seen you without your coat on," Dean says with a frown. "Isn't that weird?"

Castiel, panicked, doesn't reply as he pushes his face into Dean's neck again and nuzzles at the skin. When that doesn't divert his attention from the issue, Castiel abruptly falls back into the water, despite it only reaching halfway up his thighs. His wings make a sharp 'splat' as they slap against the water and the skin underneath burns considerably, but he sinks all the way down until his head's submerged and pops back with a mouthful of water, which he proceeds to shoot at Dean.

Dean bursts out in laughter, sharp and surprised, and dips down into the water up to his neck to splash him back. Castiel grins and sends huge amounts of water back with his wings, even though the action makes his aching muscles throb in protest. Either way, the topic is dropped, and Dean's spared from bearing his burden, for the time being.

But how long can he keep hiding this?

-

Castiel hadn't realized how bad it was until Dean found out and looked at him in horror, his eyes wide and face pale. He'd been on his way home from a very quick stop by the bookstore, picking up the book Sam had said he needs for a summer class he's taking, when Gordon and his friends had jumped him.

The usual kicking began, followed soon by a pelting of rocks that made Castiel try to writhe away from where he'd been held down. Then, his coat was yanked up and his wings were dragged out, and before he knew what was happening, there was a snap and his world exploded with pain. He's pretty sure he screamed, and it must've been loud, since all his attackers suddenly fled.

Castiel's not sure how long he sat there, curled protectively around the book and crying as he poked at his throbbing wing, before someone approached him. Whoever it was ran off quickly enough, and a minute later, Jody's there, pulling him into a soothing hug and holding him until he calms down.

"What happened, Castiel?"

"I…" He thinks back to Gordon's threats and his mouth snaps closed as he averts his eyes. "…nothing." 

"Uh huh. Well, 'nothing' looks pretty painful, and I've got some supplies at the station that can patch you up, if you want," Jody says. "Or, if you'd rather, I can take you back to Ellen's."

Unwilling to face Ellen just yet, he shakes his head and looks at the ground. Jody takes him to the police station and sits him down in a chair as she treats the superficial wounds on his face, most of the damage outside of his wing hidden by his coat. She asks him questions as she goes, but he doesn't answer, not sure how to lie his way out of explaining what happened and who hurt him. Jody eventually sighs and leaves, returning a few minutes later with Ellen and Dean.

Castiel tenses, but tries not to show it as he slowly flips through the pages of the book he'd been sent to retrieve; the words are too complicated for him to read, but he pretends he can, anyway. Dean sits in the chair beside him while Jody and Ellen talk quietly at the desk, their words too soft and unfamiliar for him to make out.

"Heya, Cas," Dean says quietly, running his fingers through Castiel's feathers without asking. Castiel usually loves it, but now that his wing is potentially broken, he shifts the wing out of Dean's gentle touch uncomfortably, still not looking at him. "Jody said she found you all beat up in the streets. Wanna tell me what happened?"

Castiel hesitates, but offers, "I got hurt. I think my wing is broken again." He tries to open the wing in emphasis, but cries out when the action makes the bones shift.

"Hey, hey! All right, Cas, don't move it," Dean rushes to tell him, hands moving to keep Castiel's wing still. "Who hurt you, buddy? You gotta tell us who did it or they'll do it again."

"No one." Castiel looks away, his good wing folding closer to his body even as the joint creaks in protest. "I…I fell down."

"Cas, this is a falling down kind of injury."

"I…was hit by a horse?"

"Wanna try that again?" Castiel fidgets and shakes his head, not meeting Dean's eyes. "Hey." Dean's fingers tip his chin up until he's forced to look at him. "You're not in any trouble, Cas. We just wanna make sure you don't get hurt again if we can stop it. So who did it?"

"I'm…not supposed to tell anyone…"

"Castiel," Jody begins, and Castiel looks at her as Dean's hand falls away, "think of it this way. If they're hurting you, chances are they're hurting other people, too. And they're probably afraid of turning whoever did this in, too. But the only way this person is ever gonna get caught is if someone decides to be brave enough to push past that."

He gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment before finally answering, "It was Gordon Walker…and some of his friends…"

Beside him, Dean jolts in shock before he growls under his breath, "Knew I should've done more than just break his nose."

"Don't conspire in front of the sheriff, Dean," Jody scolds lightly, coming in front of Castiel and putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll hear Gordon's side of everything and punish him accordingly, okay?" He nods a little, not sure he should've said anything at all. "In the meantime, can you follow me? We gotta reset your bone."

Castiel follows Jody and Ellen as he's guided into a separate room. He's forced to take off his already ripped coat (which Ellen takes and shoves into her bag, possibly to fix it later) before sitting on a low table. If either of them notice his bruises, they don't say anything, instead just giving him something that will apparently dull the pain. In the room, Jody holds him still while Ellen, after feeling around for the break, grabs both sides of the bone and forces the bones back into place with a loud and painful crunch.

He cries out, but it's over quickly, and within a minute, Ellen's hugging him lightly and soothing him as Jody prepares a wooden splint for him. They wrap the wing silently, and by that point, Castiel can barely feel the pain at all, likely thanks to the medicine they'd given him. Within a few minutes, his wing is as fixed as it's going to get and he's being led out of the room and back to Dean.

Dean stares at him for a long moment and takes one good look at his back, covered in bruises and his broken wing hanging strangely due to the wooden splint attached to it, before his hands clench into fists. "I'm gonna kill him," he declares before looking at Castiel, somewhere between confused and hurt. "How long has this been happening? And why the hell didn't you say anything, Cas?"

Castiel maintains his composure for all of fifteen seconds, standing there with his one unbound wing dropped low and his head ducked down, before he bursts into tears and all but throws himself into Dean's surprised but welcoming and secure arms.

"Hey, whoa. Cas—"

"He said he'd hurt you if I told anyone," Castiel bursts out. "I wanted to tell you, but I-I—"

"Hey, it's all right, Cas. You're safe now." Dean gathers him close, mindful of his broken wing and the injuries on his back. Castiel grips onto his shirt tightly, shaking a little as he bites at the cloth in an imitation of preening, hoping to comfort one of them through the action. "It'll be okay now. Jody'll get him.

Jody, mouth set in a thin, grim line, nods to herself. "Yeah. I'll go get him."

"I've got a shotgun back at the ranch if you need any help," Ellen offers, but Jody doesn't respond.

Once he's calmed down enough, Dean takes him outside and helps him onto Impala, Dean's beloved black horse, ignoring the presence of another horse he guesses might be Ellen's. He still can't figure out how the 'stirrups' work, so Dean has to more or less push him up himself. After he's up, Dean settles in front of him and takes the reins. Impala snuffles and shakes out her mane, making Castiel smile from where his arms are looped around Dean's waist.

They begin a slow trek out of Lebanon and to the Harvelle Ranch that's silent until Dean asks quietly, "How long have Gordon and his cronies been hurting you, Cas?"

"Um…" He thinks about it, but still hasn't figured out how time works, so he simply replies, "Since before it got warmer out every day."

"Wait, since spring?" At the term, Castiel shrugs stiffly, still not used to the act of shrugging but knowing what it represents, though Dean can't see it. "That guy's gonna wish he was dead by the time I'm done with him…"

"But Dean, you'll be put in a cage!" Castiel protests, holding onto him tighter. "I don't want you to be in a cage…"

"I won't go to jail, Cas, I…" Dean sighs as they approach the ranch, all the lights in the house still on despite the late hour. "I'll figure something out. Maybe Sammy'll know some legal way to beat the guy to a pulp."

Dean drops Castiel off at the house while he leads Impala to the barn, but Castiel's not in a hurry to get inside, all too aware of his bare back from the coat Ellen still has tucked in a bag. But the door does open soon after his arrival and Sam and Jo step out, the former pulling him into a hug that makes him wince.

"Cas, what happened? You didn't come home and then Jody stops by and Dean flies out of the house and—"

"Whoa, what the hell happened to your back?" Jo interrupts as Sam pulls away.

"Gordon Walker, that's what," Dean grits out, coming up behind him and setting a gentle hand on his shoulder, even though his other hand is formed into a fist and his jaw is tense. "He's been hurting Cas for months and threatened to hurt us if he ever said anything about it."

Castiel shrinks into himself as Sam and Jo's expressions melt from shock into something cold and dangerous. "Call Bobby," Sam murmurs. "He's got a lot of places to hide a body."

"I'll get the shovel," Jo adds firmly, and Castiel swallows, wings shifting in slight panic.

Dean seems to notice and quickly pets his uninjured wing. "Hey, we're talking about Gordon, not you, buddy."

Castiel opens his mouth, but closes it again, eventually settling on, "Oh." He then glances up at Sam. "Sam. I got your book, but I don't know where it is now."

"I got it in the saddle bag. You're good, Cas." Dean leads them all inside, where Castiel finds the kitchen table set and a meal waiting, though it's now cold. Dean follows his gaze and offers a tired sort of smile. "Hey, we'll eat when Ellen gets back. In the meantime, why don't you take a nap? I bet you're tired, huh?"

He nods and is led over to the couch, where he's quickly tucked in, and Dean silently pets his wings until he's nearly asleep. Just as he's on the brink of dozing off, Dean starts talking in a low voice to Sam and Jo, evidently still planning to harm Gordon Walker and his friends.

-

The next morning, Ellen wakes him up by running her fingers through his hair, and he raises his head from where he's lying on his stomach. He's in his and Dean's bed, but Dean is nowhere to be seen. A quick glance towards the window makes him realize that it's much later in the day than he usually wakes up.

"Morning, Cas. How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine…" He looks around, his wings shifting restlessly behind him. "Where's Dean?"

"Dean had to head to work. But he wanted to stick around. I had to all but force that boy out the door this morning." Castiel squints at her, and she ruffles his hair. "C'mon, breakfast's waiting in the kitchen. You hungry?"

"I guess…"

Castiel follows her down the hallway and to the table, feeling how empty the house is every step of the way. Soon after his late breakfast, Ellen has to leave to run her diner, leaving Castiel all alone in the house. He eventually goes outside, despite his usual chores of feeding the animals—particularly the chickens—having already been completed. Dean's away. Sam's away. Jo's away. The only one there is Ash, and they've never really spoken.

Normally, Castiel doesn't mind being alone. Now, he feels…small and vulnerable, like as soon as he lets his guard down, Gordon will be there waiting for him with a handful of rocks to throw. As such, he spends most of the day hiding inside the chicken coop, even though their feathers as well as his own stick uncomfortably to his skin thanks to the warm weather.

Later, once the sun is low enough to signify that Dean will be returning soon, Castiel goes into the sheep and cow pasture to pick flowers as an apology gift, hoping Dean will accept it and forgive him. He lies on his bare stomach and spreads his healthy wing out, soaking up as much of the dying sunlight as he can as the sheeps graze around him.

Dean returns later that day, looking somewhat relieved to see him. "There you are, Cas. Geez, what are you doing way out here? I thought maybe…"

Castiel tilts his head, but stands and presents the wildflowers he'd collected somewhat shyly. "I got these. For you."

Dean's face gets darker as he accepts them. "Uh, they're pretty, Cas." Castiel smiles at him, pleased that Dean likes his gift. "What's the occasion?"

"It's to say sorry. For not telling you." Dean's face turns a little angry, so Castiel rushes to add, "I really wanted to tell you, but I was…scared to."

Dean looks confused for a second before he just looks…sad. He steps closer to Castiel until he's standing beside him, one hand holding the flowers and the other cupping his face. "Cas, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the dick that hurt you in the first place. I…I thought you knew that."

Castiel looks down at his hands, wishing he had another flower so that he had something to mess with. "It's my fault… If I weren't a monster, maybe he wouldn't—"

"Hey," Dean interrupts hastily, dropping the flowers to put both hands on his face, "whatever that dick said, you ignore it, okay? The only monster in this town is him and his buddies that think it's okay to beat somebody up just 'cause they've got a couple extra limbs."

"Dean," Castiel protests lightly, but doesn't say anything else.

"No, I mean it, 'kay? Ask anybody in town—Ash, Pam, that baker lady, anyone from any of the stores, that lady whose dog you always walk—and they'll all say you're not a monster."

"But…"

"No buts. I'm not budging on this, Cas. Got it?"

Castiel hesitates, but nods as much as he can with Dean still holding his face. "Got it."

"Good. Now let's head back inside, huh?" Dean gathers the flowers and smiles at him, and they hold hands the entire way back to the house.

Once they get there, Dean prepares a glass of water to deposit the flowers into for some reason, and Ellen gently taps his arm to get his attention. When he turns, he sees that she's holding out his trench coat, now free from even the smaller tears it had gained before he came to Lebanon and the ranch. His eyes widen as she hands it to him, noticing that it smells like the lake and soap. He buries his face into the fabric and purrs, the sound bubbling up from low in his throat and making both Ellen and Dean chuckle.

"I washed it for you and sewed it up. You probably shouldn't wear it for a little while until your splint comes off, though. I think your last one ripped up the fabric a bit."

The purring noise tapers off into a disappointment chirp, but he concedes, "Probably not. I'll wait, then."

He sets the trench coat down on the couch to scent mark later and joins his family for dinner. Having skipped lunch, Castiel is…hungry, which is something he's getting used to, as he never used to have more than two meals a day when he lived in the forest. His meals were usually fish, roots, fruits or berries, or certain barks in the forest, most of his knowledge of what to eat and what not to eat coming from Gabriel and most of it not tasting very good.

But here, there are soups and breads and meats, and even the fish is delicious and crispy here. There are all kinds of foods that he's never tried—ones more adventurous than even the crayfish he'd managed to catch one day (which tasted like a mouthful of mud). Today's meal seems to be a soup with strange colorful things floating in it. He pokes at one with his finger before Sam clears his throat, and when Castiel glances up, he hands him one of the curved scooping forks.

"Thank you," Castiel says anyway, realizing that everyone else is using one of the curved forks to eat and attempting to mimic them. "What's in this?"

"It's beef stock with carrots, potatoes, and peas," Ellen answers. "Soup. You like it?" Castiel nods and picks the bowl up to drink from it like Dean is, making Ellen turn to Dean with a frown. "Now, look at what you're teaching that boy. If I meant for you to drink this, I would've given you a straw."

At this point, Jo tips her bowl back and slurps from it loudly, making Ellen's gaze snap over to her. Not one to be left out, Sam quickly copies them, and with an eye roll, Ellen does the same, the curved forks lying abandoned on the table.

That night, Ellen reads them a story before sending them all to bed. Once in their room, Castiel lies on his back and rolls around, using his uninjured wing to scent mark the sheets, making sure there's a small amount of oil rubbed into them as Dean watches silently and fondly from the doorway. Dean's never asked why he does this, but if he did ask, Castiel would explain that it makes their nest feel more…nest-y. More theirs.

Once he's content with the smell of their nest, he nods his consent and Dean comes over and drops into the bed, wearing only a t-shirt and shorts. Castiel crawls up the bed until he can lie on top of Dean, his uninjured wing spreading out over them like a blanket until Dean squirms and shoves at the wing. Castiel picks his head up from where it had been over his heart, confused and hurt.

"Dude, c'mon. It's already a thousand degrees in here." Castiel frowns and reluctantly tucks his wing in close to his back before shoving his face into Dean's neck, chirping softly and contently. Dean sighs and runs his fingers through Castiel's hair, even as he uses his other hand to push his t-shirt up to expose his damp skin to the air. "You're lucky you're cute, buudy. Otherwise, I'd have to dump you for a refrigerator."

Castiel rumbles softly in response, having no idea what those words mean but enjoying the petting it brings, anyway.

-

A few uneventful days later, he finds out that Gordon had been arrested and 'implicated' the others involved in the 'beatings' in return for a lesser sentence. Castiel's not sure how he feels about his main attacker not receiving the brunt of the punishment, but he doesn't say anything, instead just quietly thanking Jody.

"Don't thank me for just doing my job, Castiel," Jody tells him, lightly scolding. Castiel shifts the hold he has on the chicken in his arms, Pickle, and nods, looking down. Addressing Dean, who's standing behind him, Jody says, "Gordon shouldn't bother him again anytime soon, but if he does, you're allowed to protect him and yourself, along with anybody else. And Castiel, maybe you should consider learning some self-defense just in case, all right?"

When Castiel doesn't reply, instead silently petting Pickle as his wings shift anxiously behind him in a way that tugs on the splint, Dean nods and shakes her hand. "We'll do what we can to make sure nobody picks on Cas anymore."

"And, hey, this event was unfortunate, but it did bring to light the mistreatment that Castiel has been facing," Jody begins. "I know you haven't been to town yet, but there are a lot of people in Lebanon all rallying for your protection these last few days. Somebody even tried to spit on Gordon last night."

"Wish they'd done some target practice, work on their aim," Dean mumbles, and Jody doesn't even pretend to not find that amusing, instead smiling at them privately. "I'm tellin' you, Jody. Five minutes alone with the guy and he'll never be a problem again."

"Yeah, well, take a number, Dean. There are quite a few other people that would love that opportunity, too—I'm talking about complete strangers, people that have never even met Castiel personally and only saw him during that public vote."

"Not surprised. Cas has that effect on people." Dean grins at Castiel, who tilts his head a little as he runs his fingers through Pickle's feathers and preens the chicken. "Uh, anyway, thanks for the update."

"Yeah, of course. I'll see you two around."

When Jody leaves, Dean's arms snake around his waist as he gives him a hug from behind. "It'll all be okay, Cas. They got the guy and now there's somebody on every other street corner willing to protect you. Not all that bad of an outcome, huh?"

Castiel shrugs, even as Dean leans in to kiss the back of his neck. Finally, he asks, "What if he hurts them, too?"

"Cas, Gordon's just one guy. And anyway, now all his buddies are gonna be pissed that he rolled over on 'em. He'll be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life."

Castiel hums in vague acknowledgement, but doesn't reply. Over the next few days, things change, and unlike the changes that resulted in him meeting Dean and him moving into the Harvelle Ranch, he doesn't like it. Jo starts teaching him ways to defend himself by throwing punches at random, and he's made to practice against Sam when he's at the ranch on the weekends. Even Dean starts wrestling with him (though he doesn't mind that one as much when it often results in cuddling in the soft grass or, more rarely, tickle sessions that leave him gasping for air and his skin pleasantly buzzing).

He's no longer allowed to run errands alone, let alone go into town, taking away that little scrap of usefulness and independence that he'd only just begun feeling. His responsibilities dwindle back to just feeding the animals, collecting eggs from the chickens, and occasionally brushing the horses. Even though everyone keeps saying he was the 'victim' and that it wasn't his fault, he feels like he's the one being punished for the attack.

Before, he had freedom and could explore to his heart's content, just as he'd done in the forest. Now, he can't even leave the ranch on his own, and he never really feels safe anymore unless he's surrounded by his family or animals that can protect him.

Slowly, new responsibilities are added. One day, when he's splashing around in the river behind the house in something between a bath and an early morning swim, he notices Ellen washing a few shirts against the rocks. Castiel watches curiously, creeping closer until Ellen looks up.

"Hi, Castiel. Taking a dip?"

"What are you doing?"

"Washing the clothes." She glances down, then looks up at him again, gesturing to the spot beside her. "Do you want to help out? I'll show you how it works."

Castiel sits perched on one of the rocks that sticks out of the water while Ellen sits on the shoreline, and within the hour, he's scrubbing dirt from socks and cleaning smelly shirts until they just smell vaguely of fish slime and river water.

Slowly, that becomes one of his responsibilities, and even though he doesn't enjoy it nearly as much as he liked going into town and getting to see all the structures people had created and all the animals roaming the streets, he still delights in the idea that he's at least a little useful to the family that had let him in when he has nothing to offer and continue to protect him regardless.

-

He never should've left his guard down. He'd been reading in the dying sunlight and enjoying the last of the warmth the sun had to offer, completely unaware of everything around him. He'd made himself vulnerable by not paying attention, something he thought he'd learned not to do by now.

Castiel was just sitting out in the middle of the chickens' pen, trying to read the book Ellen has been teaching him. He can figure out most of the plot through the pictures, but as far as the words go, he can only figure out a few of the 'connecting words' sprinkled throughout any book. He just gets to the part where the pig (he has no idea what a 'pig' is, but they sure look strange) overturns a rock and finds something long and green (a worm?) when someone clears their throat.

Castiel glances up, assuming that it's Dean or maybe even Ash, who has started saying goodbye to him on his way out following the reveal of Castiel's injuries. It's not Dean or Ash. It's Gordon Walker, cold eyes boring into him. Castiel freezes, the book held up like a shield as the chickens around him continue to wander around the pen and peck at the ground without concern.

"I told ya I'd get you, freak," Gordon whispers from where he's standing outside the chicken pen, leaning against a tree. "I told you what I'd do if you ratted me out."

Gordon steps out into the open, and when the shadows are no longer obscuring his figure, Castiel notices that he's holding something: a baseball bat, though he doubts they're going to play with the white ball like he had when Jo introduced the game to him a few weeks ago.

Instead, his face goes pale; he's torn between running away and lashing out, but ends up shrinking down in fear, wings (including the one that had only recently lost its splint) raised as if to protect him. "Go away," he commands, voice shaking, "or I'll…I'll hurt you." Sam says to always try to resolve things peacefully if possible, so he adds, "Please."

Gordon just chuckles and continues his slow approach, each step summoning new waves of skin bumps to his arms and legs. When Gordon stands just outside the pen and raises the bat, Castiel makes his decision and abruptly stands, flapping his wings in strong bursts a few times to disorient the man before running in the opposite direction as fast as he can.

He runs, weaving between the occasion tree and hay bale, until he's panting for air. But the second he slows down to catch his breath, he sees Gordon running up to him and panics, forcing his exhausted body to keep going. Castiel is not a hunter by any means. In the forest, he would wait for things (mostly fish) to come to him and then catch them.

He never set out like this, never had to run after something or run for his life as genuine fear washes through his every vein, not when anything that could potentially prey on him stopped their pursuit when he spread his wings wide or climbed up a tree.

Finally, when Castiel sees a patch of trees, he gets an idea. Not trusting in his wings just yet as he hasn't actually tried to fly since his wing was broken the first time, Castiel jumps to grab the highest branch he can reach, using the trunk to help him climb up the tree until he's safely perched on a heavy branch that easily supports his weight.

When Gordon comes up to the wooded area, he actually doesn't seem to know where Castiel went, a fact he's not rushing to give him. So Castiel watches silently as the man runs around the field and around the trees, never actually looking up to see Castiel hunched in close to the branch, his dark feathers acting in his favor to help him blend into the shadows.

By the time Gordon does finally look up, murder in his eyes, Castiel has regained his breath while he has not. So he waits until Gordon is halfway up the tree, his movements sluggish and awkward as he's clearly not used to climbing, before abruptly using his wings to glide down and land on the ground. He quickly continues running towards the direction of town, remembering what Jody had said about people sticking up for him.

He goes in the direction of the town's lights, and even though there aren't many people out, there are still enough that he's confident Gordon won't risk following him. This…leads to a whole new problem. With all his running, Castiel's not really sure where he is, none of the buildings looking familiar in the dark.

It's strange being in town with neither a task nor a guide. Despite being able to see well in the dark, everything looks so…different. It reminds Castiel of the forest with all its hidden secrets and dangers, everything always a little quieter at night. Castiel wanders the streets until he finds a shop that seems to be open and goes inside.

He takes a moment to observe the interior before approaching the shop owner, a woman he doesn't recognize. "Where's Ellen?" he asks, even as her eyes are locked onto his wings. "I need to find Ellen." Or Dean, but he knows Dean doesn't work in town, but rather on the outskirts.

"Ellen Harvelle?" Castiel recognizes the second part from the ranch, so he nods. "The diner should be closed this time of night. Do you need directions?"

That's how Castiel finds himself in front of the Roadhouse a few minutes later, standing outside but not entering. He's been there a few times with Sam, Dean, and Jo, but never alone. He considers just going back to the ranch and hoping Gordon isn't waiting for him, but after thinking about what might happen if he is waiting, Castiel figures out how to use the doorknob and steps inside.

Jo spots him immediately from where she's wiping a countertop, the diner otherwise empty. "Cas? What are you doing here?"

"Um…" Ellen glances over from behind the counter, seeming concerned, but he still forces himself to explain, "Gordon was at the ranch. He had a… I ran away, so he didn't end up doing anything, but…"

Jo instantly looks murderous, muttering quiet promises of violence, but Ellen quickly interjects, "Go get Jody. We're not doing anything without her being there." When Jo hurries out, Ellen's attention turns to him as she places a hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing coming to us, Castiel. We can't help you with something we know nothing about, and Gordon's the type to feed off of anybody he sees as weak or alone."

"Am I weak and alone?" he asks, tipping his head slightly.

Ellen shakes her head firmly and kisses his forehead. "Never." She pulls away and pats his shoulder once. "C'mon, let's go watch Jody arrest that creep again."

Following Jody, who's on horseback, back to the ranch, they find Gordon and Dean on the ground wrestling, the baseball bat tossed in the distant grass. Dean's on top of Gordon and gripping at his shirt, but Gordon keeps kicking and fighting the hold. Jody shouts a string of words Castiel doesn't understand and Gordon and Dean's heads snap up to look at her.

In the light of the night sun overhead and Jo's flashlight, it's not hard to notice the bruises on both of their faces, and Castiel takes a step to half-hide behind Ellen as Jo storms over to them, looking ready to fight herself, and Jody dismounts her horse. Gordon and Dean break apart as Jody comes over, and within seconds, Gordon is bound with strangely solid metal rope and being shoved over to Jody's horse.

The hairs on the back of Castiel's neck stand up when Gordon meets his eyes, expression cold and hostile, a silent threat in his gaze. He's terrified, but he can't look away until Ellen's hand settles on his shoulder and he's brought to stand completely behind her. "Don't look at him, hun, nothing good'll come from that."

"You just gonna give him a pass for beating me up?" Gordon spits suddenly, making Castiel jump, only to realize he's addressing Jody about Dean and not him.

"Considering you were trespassing on private property after repeatedly assaulting a citizen for months now? Yeah, I think I am," Jody replies with a glare before turning to Ellen. "He okay?"

"He will be, I think," Ellen answers, her hand going back to run through his hair before she nods empathically at Gordon, who's still silently fuming from on Jody's horse, his hands bound behind his back. "What's gonna happen to him?"

Jody sighs, one hand coming to rest on her hip. "Haven't decided yet. He was on probation and definitely violated the terms of that. Either way, I can promise he won't be bothering you guys again."

Castiel tunes out their conversation in favor of looking at Dean, who's muttering angrily with Jo about something. Dean's face is bruised and his nose is bleeding even more than his sore looking knuckles are, all for him. Before he even realizes he's moved, Castiel is cupping Dean's face in his hands gently, trying to apologize with his eyes.

"Hey, Cas. You okay?" Dean, ever concerned for the safety of others even when he's hurting, presses their foreheads together with a hum. Castiel can't help but smile, and Dean smiles back, bringing him into a full hug. "You're okay. You're gonna be okay…"

Castiel does feel okay now, though he doesn't want to verbally express that just yet. Instead, he hugs Dean back and tucks his face into his neck, chirping softly in contentment as one of Dean's hands goes to pet his wing. He's not sure how long they're like that, but when Castiel finally pulls away a little to look at Dean, he finds that they're alone.

Dean's staring at him fondly, even as he's adorned with small injuries he'd gotten just for him, and Castiel has the urge to hug him again. He doesn't though, instead just saying, "Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas." Dean leans in and kisses his forehead, and Castiel's wings drop in response as he relaxes a little more. "Ready to head inside?"

Castiel nods and allows Dean to guide him back to the house (after briefly stopping to check on the chickens, who are all asleep in their house). There, they find Jo sitting in the middle of the couch and Ellen hovering in the kitchen, preparing something. Dean sits one one side of Jo, and Castiel perches on the armrest so that he can lean on Dean.

"Damn, starting to feel a little left out here," Jo says, and Castiel looks down guiltily. "Hey, I'm just kidding. Go be gay, it's cool." He tilts his head at the unfamiliar word, but before he can ask about it, Jo asks, "Hey, seriously though, how come you didn't come to us sooner when you were getting hurt?"

"I went straight to the Roadhouse—"

"No, I mean before. Like, I know he threatened you, but we could've dealt with it." Jo glances at Dean and then Ellen, as if searching for their agreement, before looking back at him. "So how come you didn't come to us?"

"I…also didn't want to be a burden." Three mouths open simultaneously to argue, so he hurries to explain, "I know I don't understand everything about how…all this works, and I'm still learning how words and numbers work, and my only chores aren't really chores at all, but you all still…welcome me here and give me a home. I didn't want to place more on your shoulders…"

"Hey, it's not a burden, Cas. You're family," Dean is quick to say, picking up one of Castiel's hands to give it a squeeze before Ellen hands him a mug of something warm, Jo and Dean getting similar mugs before Ellen goes to stand beside Castiel and ruffle his hair.

"It's okay to need help, Castiel, and it's okay to talk about something that's bothering you," Ellen says gently. "I understand that these might be new ideas to you, but I mean it when I say you can come to me for anything. Any of us. And if that seems strange, just imagine the situation is reversed and one of us was hurt. Wouldn't you want to know about it?"

"Yes…" Castiel's wings droop a little behind him and he looks at the dark liquid in the mug. Hot chocolate, he remembers it's called, though he prefers when it's not as hot, the concept of food and drinks being warm and cooked still foreign to him. "I just didn't want to worry anyone. I never thought it would go on so long or to get to that…bad…"

"Should've told us right away so that we could go out and beat the snot outta the guy right away," Jo replies, leaning over Dean to get closer to him. "Hell, if Jody wasn't around, Gordon's fate would've been pretty different…" Castiel squints at her until Jo sighs and shakes her head, bumping her mug into his. "Nevermind. Cheers, Cas."

"Um…yes. Cheers." He has no idea what that means and it must show, since everyone smiles at him.

"Things in town are changing," Ellen begins, "and I understand that you liked going out and being independent, but I think we should hold off a little. Gordon may be out of the picture, but all his buddies aren't. They might not strike without him, but I for one don't want to take any chances."

"Should I just keep being a chicken tender?" Castiel asks, unable to help how his voice falls slightly even as Jo smirks at him. "I do enjoy watching over them, but…"

"Well, if you'd like your duties to just stay there, we can do that, but if you're up for it, I have something else you could try…" Castiel tilts his head questioningly, and Ellen smiles. "How do you feel about waiting tables?"

"Waiting for the tables to do…what?" he asks, and Jo starts choking on the hot chocolate she'd been sipping on.

-

Castiel glances between the number on the platter and the one on the table, a new edition to help him remember which table is which when the numbering system makes no sense. After confirming which table is number eight, he carefully delivers the two plates, making sure to wish the customers a good meal.

He's learned so much since Ellen allowed him to work in her diner. All kinds of new foods and words and numbers and smells… It's a little overwhelming sometimes, but highly rewarding. He gets to spend all day with Jo and Ellen, helping run the Roadhouse as best he can by taking the food from the kitchen area to the dining area.

He does get paid, but mostly just uses whatever he gets on bread or meats for home. He's not allowed to go to town on his own yet, but during the day, he's allowed to take walks in the forest he used to call home alone and enjoy the scenery, and even goes to town with Ellen sometimes on her shopping trips to get ingredients for the Roadhouse.

It's definitely not the worst arrangement, but Castiel does miss being depended on by his new family and being able to help them directly with things. Ellen does frequently praise his efforts in the Roadhouse though and always tells him how he takes a weight from her shoulders, so he supposes he is still being helpful, even if every day at the Roadhouse is a learning experience.

Beyond that, things have drastically improved for him. According to Jody, Gordon has been driven out of town by both the law and the public as people's views of him soured beyond recovery. That, paired with a new wave of tolerance from the people of Lebanon that can at least agree that he doesn't deserve to be beaten in the streets, makes Castiel feel a lot safer when he's around people he doesn't really know.

That's not to say that people accept him. People come into the Roadhouse often just to look at him and say things he doesn't understand until Ellen drives them away or Jo threatens them with physical violence. It feels nice to be protected. He attempts to return the favor one time when a man he doesn't recognize is persistently bothering Jo one evening when Ellen is out to pick something up, but when he bares his teeth and growls, wings puffing up behind him in a silent threat, Jo bursts into laughter, though the man does leave.

Regardless, Castiel does enjoy his new job and everything it entitles, but his favorite part of the day is still being able to go back to the Harvelle Ranch to Dean and the chickens (and Sam on the 'weekends' and sporadic days throughout the year like 'new year'). Dean will meet him by the chicken's house whenever he's done with his own work with Bobby and they'll talk about their days or say nothing at all. Castiel's not sure what determines how much or how little they talk, but enjoys Dean's presence all the same.

At night, Ellen will prepare food for them, with Dean often helping out whereas Jo has little interest in the inner workings of the kitchen and Castiel hasn't been allowed to try to help in there yet. He and Jo usually tend to the farm animals while dinner is being made, and he likes to think they're good friends by now.

With time, Castiel has started to view Ellen as somewhat of a mother figure. He's never really had a mother before, as his kind abandons their young soon after they're born, but based on what he's seen humans do with their young and the feelings he's seen between the mothers and their children, he thinks he likes the idea.

Castiel isn't as close to Sam because he's away for college for most of the week, but when Sam is around, they do get along well. He respects Sam and values his opinion, having realized long ago that he's very knowledgeable in most things while Castiel knows little about how most things around him work or what their purposes are.

Then there's Dean. He cares for Dean very deeply in a way he doesn't fully understand, never wanting Dean to be far but knowing they can't be together the entire day, never wanting to be separate even when Dean complains about 'temperatures' and 'the sweat-glue factor'. He decides this is just another facet of himself that needs exploring, and that's okay. He's finding that he enjoys discovering himself and figuring out who he is, as long as his new family is there.

"Is there something I can help with?" Castiel asks as he watches Ellen and Dean move around the stove.

"Uh…yes, why don't you get us another carrot, Castiel?" Ellen replies, turning back to the large pot on the stove. "It should be in that bowl on the counter. Do you know what carrots look like?"

Castiel goes through his mental dictionary before he slowly nods and looks at the bowl. "The pointy salad pickles."

Dean snorts, but Ellen nods. "Yeah, those. If you bring me one, you can watch me cut it. Maybe you'll be able to try it out next time."

Castiel chirps excitedly at that and searches for the carrot, and Jo groans from the living room. "Cas, why would you do that to yourself? You had the perfect excuse for not helping in the kitchen."

"Don't worry, we'll get you in here yet," Dean promises as he takes the carrot from Castiel's hand before kissing his forehead and giving it to Ellen. Jo says something with words he doesn't recognize in return, making Ellen send her a sharp look. "Oh boy, she's in trouble now."

He doesn't always understand his family and they all know he's not exactly one of them, his wings being a permanent symbol of just how much of an outsider he is, but they let him in anyway and give him a home and more love than he knows what to do with.

The entire town may not wholeheartedly accept him for who he is and may not look beyond his wings, but as long as his new family does, he thinks that's okay. Those are really the only opinions he cares about, anyway, and as long as those who still dislike him for what he is keep their opinions to themselves, he can handle the rest, with his family right there beside him to back him up if he needs it.