Supernatural 1. Meet the Family

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hello, everyone, and welcome to this wonderful story! I want to start off by thanking you all for reading the first chapter of my rusty writing as I venture back into the world of fanfiction. I apologize for it being a little jagged at first, but I promise the quality will get so much better as the chapters go on. I plan on this story being fairly long, so stick around for a while, will 'ya? :)**

**Please keep in mind that this story features some slight plot changes, is AU of course, is Destiel (very heavily Destiel), will contain graphic sex scenes, experimentation, violence, cussing, and other fun gory stuff. Another thing to know about this story is that there WILL be a lot of growth (like age growth) in characters, so time lapses between chapters are going to happen.**

**The story starts out with Teen!Dean and Human!Teen!Cas, and has a couple of our other favorite characters playing different roles, as well as a fair amount of O.C.'s.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Castiel or Dean Winchester characters and/or any of the original story content based off of the show "Supernatural". This story is merely fanfiction inspired by the show and worked into my own ideas of how things should have, or did, play out in an alternate universe.**

**Thank you for reading. :)**

* * *

It was quiet again in the house. Every time the other kids went out to fulfill their daily activities, one was left behind with the burden of an illness contracted from a homeless man who was one of many reported cases infected with a malady that seemed to be popular among the homeless community. It was just another day of solitude, and the house was brisk and damp with cold air and an uncomfortable atmosphere. Dean didn't understand how people could live in places like this, stationed out in the middle of nowhere with so much land to get lost in, but never being allowed to explore it. It was often that he was dropped off at a boarding home, but this time it was different - very different. This time, he was without his younger brother, Sammy, who was his rock, his world, his comfort.

There were plenty of other teens who frequented the home, but none seemed to be interested in acknowledging Dean's existence, especially since he was a lot older than the rest of them. Usually when he was dropped off in a boarding home, it was with his brother and only lasted a short time because his dad's hunting trips didn't take as long as he said they would. A week, maybe two tops, but never more than three weeks. However, this time, he was stuck in this place for over a month and half, nearing two months, and it was driving him insane.

Not only was it hard being away from the only people you can count on, and the only family you have, but it was extremely difficult being in a house full of strangers while being sick and quarantined in the upstairs bedroom with little to no contact with the outside world. The makers of the home were assumed to be a sweet couple, but Dean knew it was all just a fair game they played to parents or agencies that needed a quick place to dump some poor sucker off so they can have a roof over their head for a little while. In all reality, they weren't all they were cracked up to be. The wife was this petite, brunette, little thing who would sing everything she was doing and the husband was just the icing on top of the cake with his rustic demeanor and pompous attitude. It was classic, actually. The wife introduced herself as Bonnie, but insisted that the kids called her "Mother", sort of as a means to make them feel welcome, but Dean repudiated. The husband wasn't much of a character, either, especially with how he introduced himself. 'Hi, I'm Walter, but you can call me Walt', with his shaky, hoarse voice - short and to the point, followed by a furrowed brow and a disappointed glare.

If first impressions were anything to go by, Dean was not impressed. Something about the two just seemed awfully strange, so he made a point to keep his distance. And because of the situation he was in, keeping his distance was fairly easy.

* * *

Before he was brought to this place, he and his dad and brother had been sleeping in his dad's '67 Chevy Impala, travelling from state to state on a hunt to exact revenge on a powerful being that killed his mother. But because of being on the road for so long and visiting so many places, there's only so much your immune system can keep out of your body, and there's only so many places where you can park your car and not have it get broken into.

While the Winchesters were stopped at a gas station, John had parked the car in a dark spot around the back of the facility in efforts to keep the car hidden from criminals and other unworldly creatures, so that the three of them could go inside to stock up on food and drinks for the road. However, during their short time inside the gas station, the Impala had been broken into, but nothing except a couple dollars and a lighter were stolen out of it. John wouldn't have minded so much if the windows were an easy fix, but at this point along the way, it was difficult to find a place to get the car fixed, and it was also difficult to scrounge up the cash to get it done by someone who seemed mildly trustworthy. And since they were so low on cash, John figured it would just be best to block the window with a large black trash bag and hope that water didn't seep through the tape when it rained. But it did, and of course it was on the side where Dean usually slept, so it wasn't a pleasant experience for the eldest Winchester brother to be sleeping on a half damp seat during the coldest time of the year.

Along with having an insanely uncomfortable ride and place to sleep, Dean's stress was building up and he could feel himself coming down with some kind of cold or flu. It also didn't help that his brother was always hogging the small blanket they shared, so naturally, Dean would freeze the majority of the night anyways.

And just when he thought he was starting to get over his cold, Dean came in contact with a very sick, elderly homeless man who was only asking for a bit of help getting to the homeless shelter for a meal and a warm bed to sleep in. Feeling like it was the right thing to do, and despite the risk of getting sick, Dean urged to help the poor man fulfill his wish so that he would have some place to be safe for a night or two. Luckily, Dean was able to score a nice basket of goodies from the homeless shelter to take on the road. It wasn't much, but at least the food was home cooked and wasn't a processed gas station burrito or a soon-to-be-recycled hamburger from a rundown burger joint.

About two weeks went by on the hunt and Dean was getting extremely sick. So sick to the point where it was becoming very difficult for him to even ride in the car without feeling nauseated. He had a fever that was constantly fluctuating, and leading him to believe many times that he was feeling better, when he was probably getting worse. His head felt swollen and his whole body felt weak from coughing so much, and it was even getting hard for him to breathe sometimes. At this point, John felt it was best to continue his search for the monster without Dean. Having a sick son would not only hold him back from successfully finding the thing that killed his wife, but it would also mean that he wouldn't be able to properly care for Dean and would add onto the stress he already had.

A hospital was out of the question because he couldn't leave his sixteen year old son there for more than a week without them opting to shove him into foster care. So, John's only option was to place his son in a home where he could pick him up when he was good and ready. Unfortunately for Dean, his father was far from ready, and because of his sickness, his time there was prolonged.

* * *

The day was going by slowly, as usual, and there wasn't much to do while being cooped up in a secluded room and alone. It was a wonder he'd survived this long without dying of boredom, but Dean always made do with what he had. It was nearing noon and Dean was pretty hungry, but felt too weak to get out of bed and grab something to eat, and neither Bonnie nor Walter was going to be home any time soon.

Frustrated, Dean threw his head back against the hard, wooden backboard of the bed he was given and let out a deep sigh. He sat there in silence for about ten or fifteen minutes before deciding to finally get up out of bed, despite how weak he felt. The only way to get food into his system was to make it himself.

On the way downstairs, he noticed a large white truck in the yard with two people getting out of it - one younger, with luggage, and one older, who was the driver and more than likely a case worker judging by his formalwear. Curious, Dean proceeded downstairs and walked over to the door, opening it to greet them before the older man could knock. He stared out at the two, and then averted his eyes to the younger male carrying the luggage that seemed to be around the same age as him.

"Can I help you?" Dean asked, turning his attention up to the older man.

"Yes, we're looking for Mister and Missus Taylor. Are they home?" The man said, staring down at Dean with a tired, blank expression.

"No, they're out right now, but you can come in and wait for them to get back. M'sure they won't mind." Dean moved a little out of the way to invite the two inside.

The man nodded slightly and walked into the small living room, taking a seat on the plush couch in front of the television set. "When do you think they might be back? It's very important that I speak with them right away." The man urged, his tone becoming somewhat demanding.

Dean walked around the recliner sitting next to the couch and looked at the man for a brief moment, analyzing him before he spoke. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

"I never told you my-" the man was interrupted mid sentence by the other teen in the room. "His name is Richard Hegsman. My mother just died and my dad's a raging alcoholic, and I guess the state didn't like that, so here we are."

Dean's mouth fell open some as he was slightly taken aback by the abrupt interruption by the quiet teen who accompanied the case worker. He gave a quick nod and licked his lips as he took in the situation. "Okay and you are?"

"Oh, sorry, guess I should have included that. My name's Castiel." The teen placed one of his bags on the couch to free a hand and offered it to Dean for a handshake.

"I'm Dean. Just sit tight and the Taylors will be back in a little bit. No need to get your panties in a twist." Dean snarked as he shook Castiel's hand. He then turned around and headed for the kitchen to fix his self something to eat. "Well, I'm going to grab some food. Make yourselves at home."

Castiel proceeded to set the rest of his bags down on the couch next to Richard and quickly followed Dean to the kitchen.

"So, how long have you been here?" Castiel asked as Dean stuck his nose in the fridge.

Dean continued raiding the fridge for something suitable to eat that wouldn't make his stomach churn. "Almost two months now. Hungry?" He said as he pulled out some assorted lunch meats and cheeses from the deli drawer and held them out for Castiel to see.

"No, we just ate - so, how is it here? Do you like it? I've-"

"You sure ask a lot of questions." Dean said as he slapped the packages on the counter and reached for the loaf of bread, untwisting the tie, and taking out two slices to place on the counter separately.

Castiel paused for a moment after getting cut off, and just watched Dean prepare his sandwich before continuing with his comments. "I'm just curious. I've never been to a place like this before."

"And you think I have?" Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Well, have you?" Castiel looked at Dean for a long moment while Dean put the meats and cheeses neatly on his bread.

Dean looked back at Castiel, studying his blue eyes and analyzing the soft features on his face. He pursed his lips a little and went back to the fridge to grab some mustard for his sandwich. Returning to the counter, he squeezed the mustard container, complementing his sandwich with just enough of the bitter condiment so as to not scratch his throat upon consumption, but still enough to get a good taste of it. He placed the remaining piece of bread on top to complete the sandwich and picked it up, holding it while he replied to the interrogator in the kitchen with him. "Hm?" he shoved the sandwich in Castiel's face, offering him a bite, but when Castiel refused, he shrugged and took the first large bite.

"I've been to a few foster homes, boys' homes, or boarding schools in my life. My dad travels." Dean said between bites, now almost half way done with his sandwich.

Castiel watched uncomfortably while Dean practically inhaled the sandwich, arching a brow at the messiness of the mustard dripping on the floor. Dean looked down at it as well and shrugged again, walking past it and out of the kitchen. "Come on, I'll show you around, since you'll probably be staying here."

Castiel nodded slowly and followed Dean out of the kitchen and into the living room where Richard still was. "He's just going to show me around." Castiel informed, continuing to follow Dean up the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Dean wiped his hands on his pants as he finished his sandwich and pointed down the hallway. "Up here, you'll find all of the bedrooms. There are four bedrooms. At the end of the hall is a bathroom - it's pretty good size. There's also a schedule on it for shower times so the water has time to heat back up and everyone gets at least one shower a day." Dean turned around and pointed to the door leading right off of the stairwell and continued on with his tour. "This is actually my room. It's the only room on this side of the hall because I'm sick, and they've quarantined me to this secluded room. Sorry if I get you sick."

Castiel let out a small breath and nodded along to Dean's words, making sure to take mental notes on all he was saying. "How many of you stay here?" Castiel asked.

"Well, right now, there are eight. Two to a room, but recently, one of the younger kids had to move out of my room, so it's tight quarters right now. But I think one of them is actually leaving soon, so you might be in luck for a bed." Dean explained, walking into his room to grab the cup he was using for water.

Castiel nodded again and looked at Dean, raising his eyebrows at Dean's messy room. "Is your room always that messy?"

"Like I said, I've been - " Dean was cut off for a second by a couple of hard coughs, but continued on with his sentence. "Sick." He drank the last remaining bit of water still left in his glass and coughed a couple more times.

"Maybe you should go lie down. I can get you some more water." Castiel offered, hoping to seem helpful and make a good impression.

Dean drew in a breath and stared at Castiel for a moment before accepting his offer and handing him the glass. "Just wash it first and wash your hands. This is a pretty bad flu. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

Castiel gave a slight smile and headed downstairs to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water for his new acquaintance. He passed by Richard and stopped for a second to speak with him about the arrangements he planned on making with the Taylors. "Dean said that there are already eight, including him, here. How am I supposed to fit here?"

At this point, Richard had definitely made himself comfortable, considering he had already flicked on the television and was lounging back on the couch with his feet up on the available ottoman. He looked up at Castiel who had asked him about his arrangement and cleared his throat. "Well, I've spoken with Missus Taylor prior to bringing you here, and she said she would make room for you, so trust me, you'll be fine."

Richard's tone came off as though he was irritated and unwilling to converse with the teen. Castiel puffed his lips out and rolled his eyes, continuing on to the kitchen to refill Dean's glass with water.

"Don't worry, kid, they'll take care of you!" Richard called from the living room, and Castiel shook his head in dismay at his case worker's reluctance to care much about his situation.

Castiel turned on the tap and filled Dean's glass up completely with water, and then went into the freezer to add a couple of ice cubes to make it nice and cold, figuring it would be a nice treat for someone who's sick. He headed back through the living room, exchanging glares with Richard, and then up the stairs to Dean's room where he was fluffing some pillows and stacking them on his bed.

"Here, I put some ice cubes in it." Castiel said, handing the glass to Dean.

"Thanks," Dean took a couple of slow sips of the water and set the cup down on the side table next to the bed. He leaned back against the mountain of pillows he built to help him sit up comfortably and turned on the television.

After a long moment of silence and staring intently at Dean, Castiel finally worked up the nerve to ask him about his sickness. "What is it?"

Breaking his focus on the show he was watching, Dean slowly turned to Castiel with a confused look on his face. "Huh?"

"Your illness. What is it?"

"Uhm, I don't really know. Just know that it hurts when I cough and I've had it since before I came here." Dean answered, and then grabbed his water to sip at it some more.

"Does talking make your throat dry?" Castiel asked, watching a small droplet make its way down the glass in Dean's hand.

Dean put the glass back down again and nodded some. "Sometimes, but it's mainly my chest that hurts. I've been coughing a lot; and more recently, too."

Castiel nodded and turned to look at the television to see what show Dean was watching. "Cartoons? That's your past time?" Castiel shook his head and lowered it a little to hide his growing grin.

"Yeah, man. Nothing else to do and this is the best thing to fall asleep to."

"But it's bright. Doesn't it bother you when it's night time and you're trying to sleep?"

"Nah, I lower the brightness." Dean said, grabbing his water and taking another few sips. "Why, you got any better recommendations?" Dean gave a slight chuckle and finished off the rest of his water.

"Well, I usually just play video games." Castiel said blankly and stared at Dean, waiting for an assumed surprised reacting.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean said playfully, arching an eyebrow, and allowing a grin to tease the corner of his mouth some.

"I brought my system. I can do down and get it."

"Do that, and can you get me some more water?" Dean held out the now empty glass to Castiel.

Castiel accepted the the glass and walked out of the room to retrieve another glass of water for Dean along with his game station. As he made it downstairs to the living room, he noticed that there were more people in the living room than just Richard and the television.

"Oh, here he is. We were wondering where you were, son." Richard said, waving his hand in a gesture to call Castiel over to where he and the Taylors were standing.

Castiel's brow furrowed some as he walked over to the couple and his case worker who were now at the door finishing up the discussion of the details regarding his stay.

"Cas, you'll be staying here permanently until someone files adoption papers for you. We're going to put you on the list of older teens that need homes, so hopefully someone will take interest soon. We'll keep in touch." Richard was very brief with his explanation and something about his tone struck Cas the wrong way. Something wasn't right about this. Cas turned to look at Bonnie, who offered a polite smile and patted his back with one of her petite little hands. He faked a smile and nodded some to Richard who was now on his way out the door to leave.

"We don't have very much room left in the house, so we're going to be splitting up Dean's room and we'll get a bed for you in just a little while...Castiel, was it? I'm Bonnie, and this is my husband, Walter." Bonnie said, her voice was sweet and welcoming, much like the way she tried to present herself.

"Uh, Cas for short." Castiel answered, his tone seeming a bit skeptical of her mention of his full name.

"Don't be late for dinner." Walter commented, his grungy voice tying into his boring and adamant presentation.

Cas let out a soft sigh, nodding to Walter, and giving a short wave to Richard when he honked the horn for one last "adios". He turned back to Bonnie and studied her for a moment, then proceeded off to the kitchen for Dean's second glass of water he promised.

Cas met up with Walter in the kitchen as he filled the glass with water and figured it would be a good idea to strike some small talk to somewhat get to know this man who would be serving as the father figure in his life for now. "So, when is dinner?" Cas asked, turning the faucet off once the glass was full.

"Six o'clock. Sharp." Walter stated bluntly, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and quickly leaving the kitchen to avoid the new family member's small talk.

"Okay, heh, I'll let Dean know." Cas said, following him out into the living room.

"Dean already knows." Walter's voice was scratchy and dry and very, very monotone. He didn't seem like much of a person to Cas, and it was already starting to get under his skin.

"Okay, then." Cas lowered his head, his eyebrows both shooting far up his forehead. His eyes wandered awkwardly around the room, trying to think of something to say to this grumpy old man.

"What are you waiting for?" Walter asked dryly.

"I'll just go back upstairs." Cas decided it was best just to leave it at that and headed back upstairs and into Dean's room.

Dean turned his head to look at Cas who was finally back and smirked at him. "Took 'ya long enough."

"Bonnie and Walter are back, and they're putting me in your room. They're going to separate the room, I guess." Cas said, handing Dean the glass of water and sitting down on the foot of Dean's bed.

Dean's brows shot up in surprise and he set down his water and sat up more. "What?"

"Yeah, Bonnie just told me downstairs. We're going to get a bed soon, too."

"You can't stay in here, I'm sick!" Dean coughed out, and then reached for the water to soothe his throat.

"Do you not..._want_ me to stay in here? Or is it just because you're sick?" Cas asked, a hint of concern growing in his tone.

"No, I don't - " cough. "mind, it's just - " cough. "if you're in here, you'll risk" - cough. "getting sick." Cough, cough, cough. Dean held his hand to his mouth as he let out a few more hard coughs. His face was starting to get a little red due to the constriction on his throat, and the water wasn't helping as much as he'd hoped.

"Are you going to be okay?" The concern in Castiel's voice was more prominent, and he leaned forward for a little bit of support.

"I'll be fine." Dean waved his hand at Cas and downed the rest of the glass.

Cas nodded and stood up, starting towards the door. "Well, I'm going to go get ready to go to the store. I guess I'll pick out a bed similar to the size of yours so it can fit in here..." his voice trailed off as he walked out of the room and down the stairs to meet up with Bonnie.

Dean sighed and looked at the clock next to him. Almost 2:30 p.m.; could this day get any longer? He turned back to the television and turned it up a little bit more and sunk back down into his mountain of pillows, covering himself up some. He stared blankly at the television for a couple minutes, and then kicked the covers off of himself and got out of bed.

"Castiel - wait! I'll come with you." Dean mentioned, following quickly behind Cas as he walked into the kitchen.

Cas turned around and gave Dean a sheepish grin and looked him up and down, mentally commenting on his not-so-appropriate attire to go out shopping in. "You can just call me 'Cas'."

Dean narrowed his eyes a bit, noticing what Cas was trying to tell him about his clothes, and he gave him a light shove to the shoulder, knocking him back a little. "I'll get changed in a minute." Dean wandered off into the kitchen and opened the fridge, searching for something else to drink that will help his cough a little more.

"You're sick, get back to bed!" Walter called out to Dean from the recliner in the living room.

Dean pulled out the small remainder of orange juice still left in the fridge from the other day and opened the cap to quickly down the rest of it. After hearing Walter's comment, he walked into the living room and stared at the man for a second, fiddling with the damp cardboard of the orange juice carton. "I'm just going to go with them to get a bed."

"No, you're going to get back in your own." Walter came back with a stern tone.

"I haven't actually been out of this house since I got here, so let me just -"

"Bed. Now." Walter just wasn't going to give in, especially since he didn't want to risk anyone else in the house getting sick.

"That's bullshit. Absol-" Instead of getting cut off this time, Dean paused in the middle of his sentence as soon as he saw Walter stand up from the recliner with his hand on his belt.

Walter gave Dean a menacing glare as he began to undo his belt buckle.

"Fine." Dean sighed, giving in and slowly making his way back to the staircase. He turned around before going upstairs and glared at Walter, shaking his head as his glare grew harder and meaner.

Walter continued his glare as well, now starting to pull his belt out of the loops.

Dean's jaw clenched tightly, understanding that Walter was completely serious, and decided it wasn't worth the battle this time around. He was just too tired and weak to deal with Walter's attitude. He shook his head again and made his way up the stairs to his room, and climbed into bed. He put the empty carton of orange juice on the floor next to his bedside and pulled the covers up over himself so that he can actually get some rest.

As soon as Dean was almost comfortable enough to fall asleep, he was accompanied by Walter's stocky presence. His eyes trailed up to meet Walter's face, which was showing no expression other than exhaustion and anger.

"What?" Dean barked harshly, the anger in his voice causing it to crack a little.

"What side of the room do you want?"

"Why are you all of a sudden giving me a choice?"

"I asked you a question, boy, now answer it." Walter snapped, advancing towards Dean and kneeling down in front of him next to his bedside.

Dean was now staring at Walter straight in his face, and he could feel his body temperature rising with anger. "The one I'm on. That's what I want." Dean spat out, his voice shaking somewhat.

It wasn't usual for Dean to fear someone as much as Walter made him feel like he had to. Walter was a tough crowd to please, especially if you didn't answer with 'how high' when he instructed you to jump.

"Get some rest, kid." Walter said, a smug smirk inching across his wrinkled, gray face. He reached a hand out to Dean's face and gave him a couple soft smacks on his cheek for endearment and walked out.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned over to face the other wall in the room. At least this one wasn't crowded with people itching to bother him. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes, quickly drifting into a light slumber - finally able to rest for a little while.


	2. Comfort on the Homefront

"Are you ready to leave, sweetheart?" Bonnie asked, turning to Cas, car keys in hand and her overloaded purse sitting uncomfortably on her shoulder.

Cas was finishing up putting his belongings at the top of the stairs near Dean's bedroom door, not wanting to put them in the room just yet so he didn't disturb Dean while he slept. He looked down the staircase at Bonnie, who was now standing in the doorway with the front door open. "I'm almost done." He said, heading back downstairs to grab his game station equipment, and then bringing it back up the stairs to set it down next to the rest of his luggage. He counted the bags, taking inventory to ensure all of his belongings were there and nothing seemed out of place.

Cas then stomped back down the stairs, the wood creaking some beneath his feet. He followed Bonnie out the door and to the car, getting in and strapping on the seatbelt in the passenger's seat. He looked over to Bonnie who had just started the car and was adjusting the mirrors. He took a moment to look her up and down, observing her intently. Cas narrowed his eyes at the charms on her bracelet that indicated she was probably a religious type person, judging by the symbols of the cross, jesus fish, peace sign, and other miscellaneous charms.

Bonnie looked at Cas, noticing his admiration for her bracelet and she met his eyes with a bright smile in her own. "I got it at a thrift shop." She said sweetly, playing with some of the other loose charms, turning it around her wrist some.

"Oh.." Cas nodded and gave a brief smile, then turned his head away in embarrassment for her catching him staring at her bracelet.

Bonnie turned away from him as well, looking through her mirrors as she backed out of the yard, careful not to hit anything behind her. "What kind of bed are you thinking of getting?" She asked, placing the gear shifter to the illuminated "D" and hauling off down the street.

"Um, I guess the same kind as Dean; you know, so it fits in the room and doesn't take up too much space..." Cas let his voice trail off as he looked at the window, taking in his surroundings and trying to familiarize himself with the local area.

"Well, let's see what we can find. We'll check out Salvation Army first."

Cas nodded in concurrance to her suggestion and continued looking out the window.

The rest of the drive was quiet. No music, no talking - just the peaceful sound of the occasional turn single and the other cars on the road sweeping by. A couple minutes later, they pulled up to a large factory-structured building.

"This isn't Salvation Army...Is it?" Cas asked in confusion, looking up at the large sign on the building that said "Furniture sales".

"It's inside, dear." Bonnie replied as she turned off the engine, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of out the car.

Cas did the same, following her up to the entrance of the building. Like the gentlemen his mother taught him to be, Cas held the door for Bonnie, who nodded sweetly at him as a thank you.

The two wandered down the large hallway stacked with boxes towards the sign that introduced them to the actual Salvation Army they came here to browse through. Immediately, upon crossing the threshold into the store, Cas saw a bed he thought would be a suitable fit for the room, and also seemingly comfortable just by looking at it. It came with a wire base, and didn't sit too high up off the ground, which is actually how he liked it. A stream of excitement filled his eyes and he pranced on over to the bed, waving to Bonnie as she sauntered after him.

"This is the one you like?" Bonnie asked, watching Cas fully examine the bed by sitting on it, laying on it, and bouncing on it some. She subtly looked at the price tag and pursed her lips, thankful the bed wasn't out of her budget.

"Yep, it's perfect." He smiled up at her and nodded his head in approval, content that he found something so quick.

"Well, if you're really sure that's the one you want, I'll let a store clerk know so we can have it delivered later tonight. How's that sound?" She placed a hand on Cas' shoulder and patted it lightly, gesturing him to stand up and follow her to discuss delivery arrangements.

* * *

Upon their return home from the Salvation Army, Bonnie and Cas got out of the car to find Walter out in the yard digging through a patch of ripped up flowers with his arm shoved tightly into a hole in the ground.

Bonnie slung her oversized purse onto her shoulder and walked over to Walter, giving him a light kick in the butt to gain his attention. "What on earth are you doing?"

Walter fell forward a little, his face planting further into the soft pile of dirt infront of him. He pulled back, shaking his head to rid some of the dirt from his face and spitting out the dirt that made its way into his mouth. He turned his head up to look at Bonnie, obvious frustration showing on his face. "Those damn moles are diggin' under the house again. If we don't find 'em and get rid of 'em, they'll sink our whole damn yard and maybe the house!" He yelled, his face turing a vibrant red from anger. He shook his head in annoyance and turned back to the hole, removing his arm to dig at the sides and widen it some so he had more room to dig around inside.

"Are you sure it's moles? Maybe it's sink holes..." Bonnie commented snidely, walking away to follow Cas who was just getting inside the house.

"I'd know if it were sink holes, Bon, but-" Walter turned his head to see she'd had already walked away and he threw his other fist down on the ground, slamming it onto a soft pile of dirt. He continued shoving his other arm down into the hole in search of the mole.

Inside the house, Cas made his way up to the bedroom to see if Dean was still asleep or if he had woken up by chance so Cas could share his exciting news with his new aquaintance. He slowly cracked the door to their bedroom and peered in, resting his eyes on a still sleeping Dean. Cas sighed softly and closed the door slowly, careful not let it slam.

He turned around to face the other side of the hallway with the other bedrooms and ventured down to corridor, glancing into each room to see what they looked like and scope out the place he'd be living in for a while. He explored the closets in the hallway, taking note which one was the linens closet and which one acted as a small storage space for each kid's bathroom essentials. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, which was nice to know, considering this entire place was just very new to him and he was still very skeptical despite meeting someone he already felt comfortable with.

Cas didn't really know what to think of Bonnie or Walter at this point, except that he could tell Bonnie was just trying to be a nice person at heart and Walter had to have something crawling up his ass all the time for him to be _that_ angry, regardless of the situation.

And although it wasn't much of a cookie cutter home, Cas was thankful that someone wanted to take him in to put a roof over his head and feed him - even make him comfortable. He stood in the hall for a couple minutes, digesting the surroundings a bit more. He turned around to look into one of the bedrooms and sauntered in, checking out the small trinkets resting on one of the side tables next to a twin sized bed. He figured this space belonged to one of the younger kids, given the amateur drawings and toys displayed on the bed and on the floor around the bed.

Cas pursed his lips and picked up what looked like a year book and opened it, observing the young faces neatly lined up on each page. He flipped through a couple more pages and set it back down on the side table where he found it. Something shining in the corner on the window sill caught his eye and he walked over to it, picking up a slim silver band with one charm laced around it that read "mom". A sorrow feeling washed over him and he began to remember his own mother - how beautiful she was. It was only a month since she'd died from a car accident and he was then put into the foster care system when his school noticed she wasn't returning any of their calls about Cas' fast slipping grades.

Times were very rough for Cas, what with his father falling into alcoholism like a never ending cliff of mistakes and regret, his mother being gone, and now being in a strange place with even stranger people. It was a wonder to him how his father got to be that way, but he had no doubt in his mind that it was actually because of his mother. And even though she wasn't exactly a saint, she wasn't a liar, either. She came clean to her husband about her wrongs, which was the concrete cause of his downfall. She had cheated on Cas' father, and for the sake of Cas, the two decided to stick together and hide their pain. However, it didn't work out as well as planned, considering their constant bickering back and forth about even the simplest of things.

Cas shook off the memory and let out a heavy sigh, setting the bracelet back down on the window sill, making sure to tuck the charm back into the corner where it originally sat.

He turned to scan the room once more before deciding to finally leave and see what was going on downstairs, and maybe even explore the rest of his new home. Being the regularly shy guy that he was, he felt already a little comfortable here in this new place, thanks to Dean welcoming him with open arms and good conversation. It was a nice feeling - being wanted and feeling secure, despite the skepticism that still lingered.

The events downstairs weren't as interesting as he thought they would be. Bonnie was now in the kitchen preparing dinner for him and Dean and the other kids who Cas figured would be home soon. He was both eager and nervous to meet them. Walter was still outside, now with a shovel, digging around in search of what he claimed to be a mole digging up the yard.

Cas walked over to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, watching Bonnie cut up some carrots for a stew. He looked the petite woman up and down, endlessly studying her movements. He drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat. Bonnie looked up at him and gave him a quick smile with her eyes and then turned her attention back to her brisk chopping of the carrots.

"What's for dinner? It smells delicious." Cas complimented, taking a large whiff of the salty aroma of beef boullon.

"Oh, just a simple stew, dear." Bonnie replied, her voice soft and sweet as usual. Once she was finished with the carrot she was working on, she moved over to grab an onion and pulled the garbage can over to her side so that she can start peeling it.

Cas stepped forward, offering to take the onion from her. Their eyes met as Bonnie looked up at him and tilted her head in curiosity of his actions. "Oh, you don't have to help me. Maybe you can set the table?" She said, taking back the onion and pointing with her chopping knife to the large round table in the other room adjacent to the kitchen.

Cas followed the knife in the direction it was pointing and nodded his head at sight of the table, and then turned back to Bonnie, his eyes squinting some. "I've never set a table before."

Bonnie chuckled some and walked over to the counter, setting down the onion and chopping knife, and taking out the tray of silverware sitting in the utensil drawer. She turned and handed it to Cas, and he accepted it, holding it up to his chest horizontally to make sure nothing slipped out.

"Forks on the left. Knife and spoon on the right. Knife goes on the inside, closest to the plate, with the serrate facing in." Bonnie instructed, now going back to peeling the onion over the garbage can.

Cas bobbed his head as he walked over to the table, setting each piece of silverware as Bonnie told him so, noticing there were already plates set out for 11 people.

After he was finished placing the silverware accordingly, he returned the silverware organizing tray back to its rightful drawer and turned to Bonnie. "Anything else, um...Bonnie?" He asked, pushing a piece of hair out of his eyes.

"You can just call me 'Mother' if you like, dear. Might make you feel more at home." She said, still focused on the onion in her hand.

Cas forced a slight smile and waved his hand to her in dismissal, fleeing from the kitchen after her awkward comment to address her by "Mother." He stood in the living room for a moment, leaning against the wall closest to the dining area, staring up at the ceiling, pondering his next move.

Cas had barely been at this house for more than four hours and already, he was bored out of his mind. What was there to do around this place, anyways? But as soon as questions started sifting through his head, he heard the door bust open, and three young girls swarmed in.

They were incredibly loud, talking all at the same time, excited and proud and seemingly happy. Cas turned his head to get a good look at them and figured it might be a good idea to introduce himself. He pushed himself away from the wall and approached the tallest girl, who looked to be probably about 14 or 15.

"Hi, uh.. I'm.." He started, but could feel the tightness in his larynx, and he let his voice trail off as the girl stared at him blankly.

She raised her brows high on her forehead, giving him an impatient stare. "You're...?" She started, but was then cut off.

"My name is Castiel, but you can call me Cas, and I'm not from around here, but I just got here, and I'm new, and I'll be staying in Dean's room because there's no other room for me here other than bunking with the sick child." He spat out in one solid breath, as quick as he possibly could. His eyes widened some at his nervous ramble and he let out a deep sigh of discomfort.

The girl smiled cheekily at him and gave him a light pat on the shoulder, easing her way towards him. She looked up and into his eyes, focusing on the deep blue orbs staring back at her. "You don't have to be nervous. We're all pretty nice here, except...Walt...just steer clear of him and you'll be golden." She advised, following her suggestion with a light smile and brightened eyes.

"Thanks, but I already got that hint after trying to speak with him myself, earlier. He's not very friendly." And stating the obvious wasn't very attractive, but Cas went with it.

The girl stared into Cas' eyes for a couple more moments before breaking the gaze and walking around him. "I'm Naomi. And the two little girls that came in behind me are Charlie and Anna."

Cas nodded slowly at the brief introductions and turned to meet Naomi's face again, this time taking in her persona, analyzing her like he did everyone else at the house. "Where are the others? Aren't there eight of you?"

Naomi grinned cheekily and licked her lips, pondering at the enormous amount of curiosity flowing in Cas' tone. "They'll be back just in time for dinner. There's still Michael, Gabriel, Samandriel, and Zachariah. They're all brothers, and they're really annoying." Naomi caught a glint of annoyance growing in Cas' eyes as he learned that there were so many of the same family in one foster home. She pursed her lips and extended a hand, gliding her nails softly against his cheek to brush off a spat of dirt. "They're orphans, you know? And they're young. Dean is the big brother and takes in everyone under his wing, and we all consider each other siblings here. So, you just have to get over it."

Cas nodded again, pushing her hand down from his face with his own. "So, what do you guys do for fun around here?" Cas asked, the nervousness still shaking his tone a bit. He reached his hand to the back of his neck and played around with the short hairs, trying to pass off his obvious nervousness.

Naomi walked around Walter's recliner and took a seat on the couch, looking around for the remote to change the station. "We usually go outside; you know, to the park or the mall or something. Have you ever been in Arizona?" Naomi asked, lifting some of the couch cushions next to her up in search of the remote.

"My mom got a job here about a year go and me, her, and my dad moved up here together...But I don't know very much about this area. The state is still pretty new to me." He explained, now helping her look for the remote.

Naomi flipped over one of the back rest cushions and snapped her fingers, victoriously locating the remote. She turned and sat straight on the couch, and flicked the channel button up to find a decent station. "Tomorrow we're going to the flea market, so you should come along. We all go there. It's pretty fun."

"I've never been to one." Cas said dryly, watching the channels flip as Naomi scanned through.

"To a flea market?"

"Yeah, I've never been." Cas shrugged and leaned back against the couch.

"You're not missing much," a husky voice said behind them as Walter shoved the door open and kicked his muddy boots off. He shook his feet out on the rug in the doorway, and stripped off his over shirt, wiping the sweat off of his face and arms with the dirtied plaid.

Cas turned around and stared at Walter for a moment and bit his lip, not sure how he should respond. Deciding it would be best to just not say anything, he turned back around and looked at Naomi for reassurance, hoping she'd accept his motions to ignore Walter's comment.

"It's fun for _some_ of us," Naomi bit back, a small grin teasing at the corners of her mouth.

"Give me that," Walter snapped, leaning over Naomi and snatching the remote from her grip. He brought his face close to hers, his heavy breath showering her shoulder with warmth and some spittle. "If you knew what's good for you, you'd watch your mouth."

Naomi inched her face a little away from his, disgusted at his filth, and scowled in his face. She stood up from the couch, putting one foot on the cushion she was sitting on and hoisted herself up to stand on the cushion completely.

Cas' eyes went wide at her bravery, and stupidity, and stood up from the couch as well, prepared to back her up if she needed it.

"You're tracking mud in the house, and you stink!" Naomi shouted, reaching out to grab the remote from Walter's grasp, but failed and toppled over the back of the couch, landing on the ground infront of him.

Walter gave a snorting laugh and bent down, waving the remote infront of her face. "Get upstairs and wash up for dinner." He demanded, straightening up and walking around to sit in his recliner.

Cas stared intently at Walter, his body still, and his glare seemingly apprehensive.

Walter glared back at Cas, his stare deepening with anger. "You get on up there, too, newcomer."

Cas stood there, stiff, unmoving until he noticed Naomi walking around after picking herself up off the floor. She grabbed at Cas' hand, pulling him towards the stairs since it was futile to try and stick around to argue with Walter.

Cas allowed Naomi to drag him up the stairs, bringing him into her bedroom where the other two girls were. He pressed his lips together, aggravation showing in his furrowed brow. "I really don't know what his problem is."

Naomi rolled her eyes at his comment and opened the drawer next to her bed, pulling out a notebook and a green pen, and handing it over to Cas. Cas looked down at the notebook, accepting it as well as the pen, and opened it, scanning some of the pages some before looking back at Naomi.

"Just write down your thoughts in here when ever Walter's mean to you, and you'll feel better. We all use it." Naomi soothed, patting Cas on the shoulder and walking past him towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. Cas backed up to her bed, letting the edge of the bed break his fall as his knees buckled. He continued to flip through the pages, scanning through it and reading short passages on each page, handwriting both neat and sloppy and so different from the writers' before it. Uninterested, Cas slowly closed the notebook and set it down on Naomi's bed, topping it with the green pen.

Charlie looked up at him, her eyes carefully watching his movements. She let a weak smile slide neatly across her young face, and turned away quickly when Cas caught her looking at him. He smiled back at her and grunted as he laid back on Naomi's bed, examining the room from an upside down view. He noticed a couple more items floating about the room in hidden places; there were notebooks scattered under beds, stray papers lying in multiple stacks, messily covered with the skirts from the box springs, and a mutltitude of toys lying about.

A few moments later, Naomi came back into the room from the bathroom and noticed Cas sprawled out over her bed, the notebook probably untouched. She picked it up and held it to her chest as she flipped through the pages to the back of it to see if he had written anything down. Disappointment crossed her face when she saw the pages after her own writing were blank, and she closed the notebook slowly, setting it back down on the bed. "You didn't write in it?" she questioned, dismay showing in her tone.

"I might later." He replied shortly, his eyes still wandering around the room.

"It's important." Naomi said simply, turning to Cas as she laid back on the bed next to him.

"Is it?" He turned his head to face her; her face was calm and flushed with a slight rose saturation. He blinked slowly at her and let his mouth hang open some, taking in the soothing calmness of the room, listening to the scribbles from the other girls in the room.

"You should come with us tomorrow," she offered again, halfway smiling at him.

"Will Dean be able to come?" Cas sat up at this point, folding his hands between his legs, glancing out into the hall at his room where Dean was still sleeping.

Naomi sat up as well, looking off into the empty corner space at the other side of the room. "He's sick. Didn't anyone tell you?"

Cas nodded along and turned to look at her. "I talked to him briefly when I first came here today, but he didn't talk much about it. What do you suspect it is?"

"Mother calls it a bad flu, but Walter says it's some n word that I can't pronounce. It's kinda deadly if you don't take care of it."

Cas sighed softly and dropped his head, now staring at the peach carpet. "I think I know what you're talking about," he said softly, and drew in another breath. "Why don't they just take him to the hospital? They'll help him there."

Naomi shook her head and groaned, wiping her tired eyes with the backs of her hands. "We used to have a doctor who came here for the first week, but they couldn't pay her."

Now it was all coming clear to Cas. Dean was sick, and was quarantined because no one wanted him passing on his sickness, but they couldn't take proper care of him because they were low on money. Cas leaned back against Naomi's pillows and stared out the window for a moment, blankly pondering to himself about Dean's situation. It was bothering him that no one was doing anything about this sick teenager who could possibly die if left without medical attention.

"How long has he actually been sick? I remember him telling me that he's been here a couple months, but has he been sick for that long?"

Naomi hummed a little as she rocked back and forth on the bed. "Mmm, I think so."

Cas chewed the inside of his mouth some and brought himself to the edge of the bed where he stood again. He turned around, glancing at Charlie and Anna still scribbling away in coloring books, and then focused his attention directly on Naomi who was still rocking back and forth. "Do you not understand that this is very serious, Naomi? You just said it yourself - Dean could **DIE**."

Naomi forced her gaze to meet Cas', and sadness instantly grew in her eyes, water forming in the corners. "I don't think Walter really likes Dean," Naomi whispered, and then drew her head back in a shy manner, placing an index finger to her mouth and pursing her lips.

"You think that Walter's not taking care of Dean because he doesn't like him? Or because these people don't have money?" Cas was extremely concerned now, and anger was building up in him quicker than he could control.

Abusers. These people were abusers. Hoarding eight kids, one of them seriously ill, and they have the nerve to accept a newcomer? This was absurd. Cas wrung his hands in disbelief, his eyes darting around the corners of the room as his anxiety set in.

"I don't really know," Naomi admitted, her rocking now halted, and her head lowering in shame.

Cas' eyes softened as his shoulders slumped, feeling bad for upsetting the girl. He kneeled down in front of her and looked up into her deep blue orbs. Naomi shifted her gaze to another corner of the room, refusing to look Cas in the eyes, for she felt sorrow for Dean and couldn't explain to Cas what he wanted to hear. Cas drew in a deep breath and patted Naomi's knee softly, then stood back up and exited the room, Naomi maintaining her current position.

* * *

"Dinner's ready!" Bonnie called from the bottom of the stairs. She wiped her hands off on the rag she held and turned to look at Walter, who was still lounging in his recliner and watching television. Bonnie shifted over to Walter, grabbing the remote and clicking off the television set, hushing a protesting Walter and pointing to the kitchen. "Go get washed up for dinner. You're filthy. The boys will be back soon and we can start." Bonnie instructed, and Walter grumbled something haughty under his breath.

She smirked as he obeyed, walking to the door after hearing a series of knocks. She flung the door open to two men in red polos with Salvation Army's logo in them. She nodded her head in approval of their appearance and looked past them at their truck, indicating the delivery of Cas' bed. "Well, that was quick. We were only there about four hours ago."

"We just need you to sign here," one of the men said, handing her a clipboard with delivery papers attached to it. Bonnie provided her John Hancock and handed the clipboard back to the delivery men.

"It'll go in the bedroom just right off the top of the stairs, boys." Bonnie called out as they started walking towards the truck to unload the bed.

* * *

Weary green eyes fluttered open as Dean came to, woken up by the fierce sound of stomping and banging and yelling going on downstairs. Slowly, he stretched his arms out under his pillow and extended his legs just past the foot of the bed, then recoiled back under the covers for a few extra moments of comfort. He turned over at the sound of the room door opening, looking at Cas who was standing in the doorway. Dean shrugged the blanket off of his shoulders and sat up some, trying to come to, and rubbing the tired out of his eyes.

"You look like shit." Cas said dryly as he walked over to Dean and sat on the bed next to him. He reached a hand out and felt the warmth on Dean's forehead, frowning at how hot his skin was. He wasn't expecting to see Dean looking like he felt worse after getting sleep, but it was also quite hot in their room now, especially without the fan on. Cas pressed his lips together and ran his hands through Dean's hair, comforting him some.

Dean sat up fully and ran his hands over his face, rubbing them up and down to soothe and loosen his skin. "Thanks." Dean responded lately, his voice scratchy from coughing so much. He looked over at the clock on his side table that read 6:04 and slowly leaned back against the backboard of the bed. His head was pounding, his brain slamming against his skull, and the pressure of the headache making it hard for Dean to hear. He let out a light groan and sat there staring at Cas, his face pale from exhaustion. "Dinner ready?"

"Yeah," Cas spoke softly, almost at a whisper. He studied Dean for a long while; the two of them just sitting there in silence. Dean coughed a few times and Cas grimaced, and placed a hand on Dean's ankle. "Pneumonia." Cas' voice was still soft, but it was prominent enough to catch Dean's attention, and Dean lifted his head to look at Cas.

Dean stared blankly at Cas with a sorrow expression painted on his face. He tilted his head a little and pushed himself forward, coming to the edge of the bed to sit next to Cas. "You might be miserable in here with me." Dean coughed out, careful to cover his mouth each time he'd cough.

Cas sighed and put a hand on Dean's back, rubbing it gently to comfort him again, but Dean shrugged it off as he stood and turned to look down at Cas. "Dinner's ready." Dean said nodding his head in the direction of the door, gesturing to Cas that they should probably head downstairs.

Cas chewed the inside of his mouth again, pondering his next response, but he didn't really have one. There was nothing he could say to Dean. He felt so bad for him, and just wanted to help him get out of this abusive situation. There wasn't much that Cas knew about him, but he could tell a lot about his character just by looking at him. Dean was a stubborn person - very stubborn - to the fact that he avoided confrontation when it came to matters regarding himself. How he got this way, Cas didn't know, but he wanted to. And it bothered him that it was such a secret, and such a treat, to get to know this person who came into his life so perfectly.

It wasn't often that Cas felt like he needed to help someone, but something was different about Dean. He seemed like a sarcastic, but very sweet person - someone Cas could see himself becoming extremely good friends with. The only downfall to wanting to help someone, is that they couldn't be helped if they didn't want it in the first place. And by judging from Dean's attitude, he seemed so far gone to not even _care_ about seeking help, even if it was just for emotional support.

Cas bowed his head and stood up from the bed, slowly walking towards Dean and moving him out of the way to make room for the Salvation Army delivery movers who were hauling his bed up the stairs. They watched as the men placed the bed on the opposite side of the room and clunked it down, and starting to set up the frame to make it ready for sleeping. Dean looked at Cas and shrugged, nudging him towards the stairs so they could go down and have dinner with the rest of the household.

* * *

The other boys had come home from their outside adventures and joined the table for dinner during the short time that Cas was upstairs with Naomi and Dean. Surprisingly, Cas hadn't realized that they came into the house, despite their rough entrance that actually woke Dean up.

The pack of 11 ate dinner mostly quietly. Bonnie and Walter exchanged glances once in a while, but mainly kept their faces in their bowls as they ate; Dean and Cas sat next to each other, Naomi and the other girls sat next to each other - Naomi sure to sit next to her newfound friend Castiel, and the other four boys sat in close quarters as well. Everyone kept to their own clique, and not very many conversations were to be had over dinner.

It seemed odd to Cas that a household with so many people - so many kids - could be this silent over what was supposed to be the loudest and most social event of the day. However, he wasn't complaining. He'd had a long day as is, and his thoughts were focused elsewhere, not really concerned about the others around him, besides Dean of course.

He didn't know what it was, but Dean had a special thing about him that made Cas instantly attracted to want to know him. He was this bundle of secret insecurities, someone who was locked away in a closed shell and seemingly not one who would open up at the hint of a question. He was mostly reserved, and Cas respected that, but that still didn't stop him from wondering.

Not only did Cas wonder about Dean, but Dean was thinking about Cas' past, too. Thinking about the first thing he said when he snidely cut off his case worker and blurted out his reason for coming to this place. Dean could understand Cas' frustration for wanting to feel nervous and out of place; he also understood that it was hard to deal with the death of a parent, although he lost his mother at such a younger age compared to Cas' new hardship.

The two exchanged brief glances as they finished up their meals together and Dean offered to take Cas' bowl to the kitchen to wash them, and then head back up to their room to get some more rest. Cas was happy to accept, and Dean did as he offered, and the two booked it up to their room. On the way in, Cas settled into his bed, bringing his belongings into the room from the hallway, and unpacking some of his easily accessible items. He mostly unpacked clothes because he didn't want to get too comfortable here, in hopes that some how he'd get picked up by a relative and he wouldn't have to pack up all of his stuff again.

Dean was sitting back on his bed at this point, watching as Cas unpacked, and also turning up to watch more cartoons on the television set now restationed closer to his bed to make room for Cas' bed.

* * *

Bonnie and Walter finished up their dinners last, watching as the other children in the household bolted from the table, washing their dishes, and going outside to spend more time in the yard before the sun went down and the day finally ended. It seemed like a pretty happy household for the most part, but there were many things that Bonnie and Walter had to discuss about Cas' new sleeping arrangements.

Bonnie knew that nurturing nine children, three who were well old enough to 'fend for themselves, would be a hassle, and she was in a hurry to find them forever homes. Money was running tight, and the disability check that Walter provided wasn't sufficient enough to keep the household going and paying for the necessities of all the children. Bonnie spent a lot of time contemplating the situation on the couch while Walter resumed his regular television watching.

The sun was quick to set on the little household of 11 and when it was time, Bonnie called the others in to come in and get ready for bed, with little social time in between. It was a nice feeling having these children here, but the Taylors were growing irritable and old and they just didn't have it in them anymore to provide a stable environment for the kids. It was a usual case that when Walter went to sleep, Bonnie would stay up and ponder some more about living arrangements, and then fall asleep on the couch.

And there she lay, asleep, while the kids were upstairs socializing still at the late hours. Walter was fast asleep in the master bedroom, drunk from the exhaustion of the monotonous lifestyle he lived. It wasn't always easy going to sleep at night with such heavy thoughts, but all of the members in the house had something to think about before they drifted off into dreamland. And in the morning when they would wake, the new day would bring them just as much stressful excitement as one before it.


	3. Anger Is An Addiction Itself

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hello, everyone! I would like to greatly apologize to each and every one of you wonderful viewers for having to wait so long for a new chapter! I have had so many things happen in my life over the past few months, and it was difficult to find time to write.**

**But never fear! I have finally gotten around to finishing up Chapter 3, and I hope that I can get a good stat on Chapter 4 shortly!**

**Thank you all for having the incredible amount of patience to wait for this chapter, and I look forward to seeing your feedback! You guys rock. **

* * *

"Don't forget that you have to go shopping tomorrow." Walter said, digging through his basket of half dirty/half clean clothes. He pulled out a white wifebeater tank top and sniffed it at the pits to determine if he should wear it today. He shrugged and threw it over his shoulder, then bent down to grab a pair of underwear and a worn pair of jean shorts.

"Well, I hope you passed around the list this time, because anything that's not on it is not getting bought." Bonnie called out from the bathroom as she pinned her hair up in a messy bun. She peeked her head out the door and looked at her half naked husband, eyes wandering about his body in slight satisfaction. Walter turned up and looked over at her, playfully shaking his bottom, giving Bonnie the giggles.

"I left it on the fridge, can't miss it there." Walter said, struggling to get the shrunken tank over his chunky arms. He groaned a little at the uncomfortable fabric and stretched it down over his portly stomach, smoothing it out some so it sat just right on his torso. "What do you want?" he called, hearing a knock on the bedroom door. He stomped over to the door and flung it open, careless of his pantslessness and Bonnie's still half-naked self getting ready in the bathroom.

"We're all ready by the door..." Naomi said, looking up at Walter's tired eyes, a grimace shadowing her face at his half nude demeanor. "You're missing your pants..." she said awkwardly, eyes trailing down to stare at his old underwear and then back up to his face.

Walter's brows furrowed at Naomi's actions, her eyes judging him, and he pushed her out of the door frame and into the hallway with his shorts in his hand. "Get out and go wait by the door. We'll be out shortly."

Naomi stumbled back a little and cursed as she slammed the back of her foot against the baseboard in the narrow hallway. Walter slammed the door shut, causing Naomi's hair to fly backwards in a swift wind. She huffed, frustration quickly growing, and she turned around to walk back out towards the front door. As she was walking away, she could hear the two now bickering back and forth about trivial matters - who's ready, who's not, who's driving, who's paying... it was all such a standard procedure that Naomi just brushed it off with a roll of her eyes. She sighed and plopped down on the couch, sinking into the worn cushions and throwing her arm around the back of the couch.

Michael came to sit next to her and put his small hand on her knee, looking up at her with excitement in his eyes. "What are you gonna get today, Naomi?" His young features were so sweet with they way they stared up at her; his eyes gleaming a beautiful blue and his dark hair falling lightly over his eyebrows. Naomi gave a quick smile and reached out to ruffle his hair, pulling him up to her in a tight squeeze. Michael struggled against her grip, going in for a tickle under the arms, and Naomi squirmed. They were both now laughing and Michael had Naomi lying on the couch, topping her with his arms in the air, victorious.

"You are a nut, you know that?" Naomi teased, pushing the boy off of her and adjusting her position to sitting once again. She blew out a heavy breath and looked up at Cas who was now coming down the stairs. "Naomi, what are you getting?" Michael tugged at her arm and slid down in front of her, sitting on the floor. He stared up at her, but she continued to ignore his question.

"What took you so long?" Naomi asked, now standing up and brushing Michael to the side so she could approach Cas.

"I was saying goodbye to Dean." Cas yawned, running a hand through his slicked hair.

"Dean's not coming?" Naomi arched a brow and folded her arms about her chest, standing awkwardly.

"He's...sick?" Cas prodded, leaning against the wall next to the bottom of the stairwell. He studied Naomi's confusion for a moment, wondering why she'd ask such a thing - almost like the Taylors allowed Dean to leave the house on 'family excursions' instead of on his own. They seemed to only allow him to do things they approved of, and going with Cas to get a bed was worse than exposing him to the multitudes of germs floating around at a flea market? Needless to say, there was enough disease spreading in the world now-a-days to infect you so bad that you'd probably drop like a fly. And Dean's immune system would have just loved to pick up another virus, so Naomi asking this question was so strange to him.

"Yeah, but he comes on all of our trips. He shouldn't, but Bonnie says yes. Walter never wants him to leave the house, though. He just really doesn't like him." Naomi commented, chewing her lip a little.

"Isn't that peculiar?"

"Why? It doesn-"

"Let's go!" Walter announced, walking into the living room and towards the front door, shoving the kids out of the way, Bonnie trailing behind.

"I guess we can talk about this later." Cas snapped, his tone serious and seemingly aggravated.

Naomi's brows lowered, her face showing a grimace at Cas' attitude. She followed after him, wrapping her fingers around his shoulder and walking beside him. "There are things about this place you just don't need to know. Got it?" Naomi grouched, slightly snarling at Cas and then running ahead to catch up with Charlie and Anna, who were getting in the vehicle.

The kids were now all loaded into the car, fitting into the tight spaces of the seats and all fighting over who sat where, and who has whose seatbelt clasp. Bonnie slid into the driver's seat, Walter in the passenger's. Bonnie started the engine, adjusted her mirrors, and backed out of the driveway to get out on their way to the flea market.

The ride there was noisy; every pair of kids had their own conversation going on. Charlie and Anna were talking about what they wanted to get from the flea market to accentuate their beautiful dollhouse they built themselves, with Bonnie's help; Michael and Samandriel were going on about their army men taking over the entire kitchen and what "floor tile lands" they were going to destroy; Zachariah and Gabriel were jabbering about who was taller; and Cas and Naomi were sharing perfectly brooding stares, quietly.

Walter and Bonnie didn't talk much during the drive, but then again, they never really do. Their conversations, since gaining so many foster children, were limited and awkward. They didn't spend much time expressing themselves, talking about important matters, or even the unimportant, little things that mattered the most. And even though the drive was so loud and exciting among the others, it was just very silent and strange for the two elders who devoted their lives to taking care of these kids.

Bonnie stared blankly out at the road, her thoughts skipping over one another, just playing out scenes of what she should have - could have - would have - and maybe should say to her husband; but all conversations were futile. He'd never listen anyways.

Walter stayed content, looking out the window the whole drive, trying to ignore the children behind him kicking his seat. He didn't want to think about much; especially the kids, or how his marriage was slowly failing. It was difficult living in a situation where your money is literally running out, you have no time to yourself, and every time you try to get a word out, your authority is demeaned, so you have to strike back to feel powerful and in charge. Walter pursed his lips, his brow lowering in his deep thoughts.

"We're here." Bonnie announced, pulling into a parking spot in the back of an aisle and shutting off the engine. She turned around to look at the array of kids in the backseats, all piled ontop of each other. She gave a quick smile and nodded her head in approval for them to start getting out of the vehicle so they could begin their bargain shopping.

* * *

"Augh.." Dean moaned, drowsily coming to, his eyes breaking slowly open. He stretched his arm out from under his pillow, snuggled his pillow for a second, and then yawned himself awake. He let out a loud sigh and stared at the blank wall for a moment before turning over and kicking the covers off of his legs. He sat up on the edge of his bed, feeling his forehead, sighing again when it felt like it was on fire. He wiped the small beads of sweat off of his face that seemed to accumulate over night.

Dean looked around the empty room, taking note of the mess his bunk mate left on the bed; his bed scattered with clothes and a couple unzipped bags. Dean licked his dry lips and stood up from the bed, stumbling a little forward and catching his balance against the wall. "Sunday..." he muttered and headed down the hall towards the bathroom. He felt disgusting. Last night was one of the few times he'd sweated badly while sleeping, and he could feel the cold sweat humidifying his torso. He reached his arms to their opposing sides, grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling it up off of his body, then stripped himself of his pants and boxers and started the water for the shower.

He took a moment to relieve himself before getting in the shower. The water felt hotter than usual, but that was probably because his internal temperature was still slowly rising. Dean stood under the hot water, letting it beat rapidly against his back as he soaked up the clarity the steam gave his sinuses. He drew in a breath and reached for the shampoo to lather his hair, rinse, and repeat with the conditioner. Once his hair felt clean, he proceeded to wash the rest of his body and then get out of the shower.

He slid the shower curtain open, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his lower half and stepped out, turning the water off. He snorted hard, drawing up all the mucus trying to slip out of his nose, thankful he was finally able to do so now that his sinuses were cleared out for a little while. He dried his body off quickly with the towel, making sure to get each crevice of his body. He hated being wet. Especially from sweating - it was just something that peeved him. But mostly, he hated being dirty. And everything reminded him of his brother and father. He hadn't seen or heard from them since he got to the Taylors', and was becoming concerned, but didn't really have the time to worry.

Dean wrapped the towel around his waist and sauntered back to the bedroom to retrieve some comfortable, clean clothes and get dressed for the day. He picked out a black tank with loose jeans and white socks - the perfect summer apparel for staying inside the house to relax. He threw his wet towel into the dirty clothes basket and plopped down heavily on the edge of his bed. He drew in a deep breath and reached over to the side table next to his bed, opened the drawer, and pulled out his cell phone. Luckily, he had a phone witih minutes he could keep refilling, so he at least had open contact with his family. However, it had been such a long time since he heard from his dad or brother. Dean made a point of calling at least once a week to check in, but never had any luck getting through.

He sighed down at the phone, smoothing his fingers over the buttons. After a few moments, he dialed his dad's number and listened for his voice, but got the same monotonous voicemail. "_This is John Winchester's cell. Leave your coordinates and a brief message, and I'll be there._" Beeeeep.

Another sigh escaped Dean, and a small ounce of salty water crumbled in the corner of his eye. "Hey, Dad. It's Dean. Just wanted to say I'm getting better - fever's almost gone. Give Sammy a hug for me." Dean then ended the call and stared down at the phone for a few moments longer before returning it to the drawer in the side table.

Two months and not even a single phone call. It wasn't the monsters, or the ghosts, or the other unworldly beings out there that worried Dean. It was this right here - the silence. The captivating feeling of absence and loneliness. In a way, he almost hated his dad for it. "It's for the best", his dad would tell him. No contact meant safety. No contact meant that there was still a hunt to be on. No contact meant "too much to handle, so you have to stay there until I'm ready to come get you". Good little soldier. Stay put. Do as you're told. Protect the little ones like you would protect Sammy. But don't ever leave. We'll come back for you.

Dean shook his head in dismay, smudging away the single tear that managed to slip down his warm cheek. He looked around his room, basquing in the quiet atmosphere of the stillness. Everything was always so still. Time was moving on, but here he was, in the same place he'd be for longer than he'd expected. And it wasn't really like John to leave him in places like this for so long, either. But this time was different. John wasn't ever coming back - Dean knew that.

He cringed and rolled his eyes at the depressing thought of having to spend his last two teenage years in this household, never knowing what will become of father or his brother. Dean stood up from his bed and headed downstairs to the kitchen to make himself some soup and cuddle up on the couch, waiting for the rest of the family to get back from their flea market escapade.

* * *

A few hours after being at the flea market, Bonnie and Walter gathered the kids and loaded everything into the car to take home. "Naomi, can you make sure that the boys are buckled in safely? We'll be back in a minute." Bonnie asked, starting the car to let the air conditioning run so the car was cooled off for when they finally left.

"Sure," Naomi agreed, lifting Michael up into the car and fastening his seatbelt.

Cas climbed into the car and sat in the same seat he did when they left, waiting for Naomi to take her seat next to him. Naomi looked up at Cas with a devious grin and climbed up into the car to sit next to him after finishing buckling the rest of the boys in. "So, are you happy with what you got?" Cas asked, stretching his arm around her headrest.

Naomi nodded shortly and drew in a deep breath, playing with the small charm in her hand. "It'll go nice with Mom," she commented softly, her voice trailing off in the admiration of the sparkling silver sitting in her hand. She tilted her head in deep thought, remembering her mother's beautiful smile.

Cas leaned his face close to Naomi's and bumped his forehead gently against hers, attracting her attention. "Hey, it's okay," he comforted, and slid his hand around her shoulder, drawing her close to him. Naomi allowed her head to fall against Cas' chest; she listened to the calming beat of his heart and steady breathing, and instantly felt more relaxed. She nodded into his shoulder and turned her face up to his so their gaze met. "You can be a pain in the ass, can't you?" Naomi teased, a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Not as much as you, though..." Cas teased back, flicking his teeth with his tongue and settling into the seat, Naomi still snuggled against him. "It must be difficult."

"Hm?" Naomi hummed.

"Your mom. It must be difficult."

"I don't want to talk about this."

Cas looked down at her again with worried eyes falling over her calm body. He bit the inside of his cheek and figured it was best to just drop the subject now before he really pissed her off. "Sorry," he commented and turned his head up to look out the window. He let out a small sigh and watched curiously at Bonnie and Walter who were talking over by a kiosk to one another about something that seemed troubling.

* * *

"This is getting out of control," Bonnie harped, her patience with Walter wearing exceptionally thin. She dug into her purse and pulled out her wallet, digging around for the minimal amounts of leftover cash hanging loosely about.

"It's just once more, and I'll stop. Don't get your pants bunched, lady." Walter spat, swiping forty dollars from Bonnie's grip. He looked down at it with a simple smirk and leaned in to kiss her cheek, but was denied; surprise, surprise.

"You said that last time. When are you going to stop? We are gaining children like bunnies, and we don't even reproduce anymore!" Bonnie was absolutely infuriated. Walter's empty promises about his binging were treading on a thin line towards homelessness, and she wasn't sure what she would tell the children or the foster agency if anything were to come up.

"You just keep to yourself, woman, and all will be fine," Walter snarked, rolling his eyes at her pestering comments. Slowly, but surely, he was digging his grave deeper and deeper, and it was only a matter of time before he was pushed into it and buried alive.

It had been years since Walter started doing cocaine, but the habit still burned through his and his wife's wallets. It wasn't the fact that he had no money that was keeping him from paying the bills and/or the doctor's visits to the house to help Dean - no - it was his selfishness that kept the paychecks dwindling down to mere cents by the end of the week.

Bonnie was still so unsure how after all this time, the two of them still managed to scrounge enough money to treat their foster children to goodie weekends from time to time and to also provide them with fairly new and good quality clothes and entertainment. Then again, they held occasional yard sales and did some freelance gardening work for the neighbors to keep the profits coming. It was a difficult life, but somehow they managed. However, it was only a matter of time until Bonnie finally got fed up with Walter's addiction and finally tried to milk the cash waves on her own, as well as support (now) nine children.

Bonnie sighed and turned away from her husband, aggravation growing apparent in her mood as she headed back towards the vehicle while Walter did his business with the kiosk attendant. She slid into the driver's seat just as Naomi was shutting the side door after ensuring the rest of the kids were buckled in. The older woman turned around to glance back at the van full of gleaming faces and she allowed a small smile to hint at her lips. They were sweet, and she was thankful to have them, but how would she manage them all on her own? Frustration tightened in her throat and before she would let any of the kids see it, she turned around and watched a happy-go-lucky Walter prance back on over to the vehicle.

He climbed in the passenger's seat, seeming chipper this time around as his excitement for his new possession showed through his permanently disgruntled face. Bonnie shook her head at his happiness for the poison and grunted as she started up the vehicle and prepared to head on home.

* * *

_Beep, beep, beep._

Dean tiredly slinked into the kitchen as the microwave went off, indicating his soup was ready to be eaten. He jerked open the silverware drawer, dug through it for a favored spoon, and pushed it closed with with careless, heavy force. Mirroring his actions from the drawer to the microwave, Dean retrieved his soup and dipped a finger in it to test the temperature of it.

Nodding his head in approval of the soup's temperature, Dean stuck his spoon in the soup and sauntered over towards the couch where he plopped down on it and clicked on the television set. He took a moment to get comfortable, wrapping a blanket around himself and then switching the channel to a more desirable station: SciFi, of course. Dean sat back against the couch and spooned his soup into his mouth, pausing in between bites so that the soup would last longer and the clear effects of his sinuses would linger.

It was the first time in a long time that Dean had actually watched television downstairs on a station he preferred, and he milked it as much as he could. Usually, he was stuck watching some old, black and white, nite-time show that Walter had going, and it wasn't really interesting to him in the least bit. It honestly annoyed Dean how much the old man hogged the main television, considering the fact that he fell asleep halfway through the first episode of the show almost every time. And it's not like once Walter was asleep, the television was free game - no way.

Dean recalled one time when he was brand new in the house hold and he was pretty much tricked by Naomi to steal the remote from Walter and change the channel, and was bombarded by a slap to the face and a pretty solid case of swearing and spittle accompanying the slap. At that moment, he learned never to take a television remote from a sleeping drunk who practically showed everyone around him nothing but hostility. Never again.

Shaking off the vivid memory, Dean tried harder to focus on the seemingly new show that played on the SciFi channel, and he continued to eat his soup.

* * *

About half an hour after Dean had finished his soup and was well into the program he was watching, his concentration was broken at the sound of the front door busting open and the living room being crowded by the mass of children and two eager-to-rest adults trailing behind. Dean swallowed hard at the sudden intrusion and turned his head to greet the flock with a simple nod of the head. His reactions towards the other two eldest in the house were different, though. Instead of giving a nod, he exhanged winks with Naomi and "hello's" with Castiel.

It seemed like a pretty concrete way of greeting, and he was comfortable with it so it stuck. As for the grown ups finally breaking through the doorway, Dean didn't pay them much attention; instead, he pretty much ignored them and turned back to focus on his program.

"Get up off the couch and help with the groceries," Walter commanded, without even so much as a simple "Hello Dean" or "Oh, you're awake" to at least break the ice. Dean drew in a deep breath of immediate frustration, and shook his head at the man's order, passing it off as a decline. "It's not my stuff. I didn't go, so I'm not helping. Plus, I just got comfortable," Dean explained, not bothering to even look at Walter.

Unfortunately, that didn't last long, and it only seemed to upset the husky man further. With a quick motion, Walter snatched the remote from Dean's hand and clicked off the television, and then proceeded to rip the blanket off of Dean's body. "I said get off the couch and help." Walter commanded once more, this time with a deeper, meaner tone being sprayed directly into Dean's ear.

The teenager flinched at the sudden rush of hot breath seeping into his ear canal, and he groaned as he finally complied, lifting himself slowly up off the couch and eyeing the male caregiver with a deep glare. "Fuck you, Walter." Dean said with a flat expression, and he turned sharply on his heel towards the staircase on his way to head up to his bedroom.

Normally, this would be something that Walter would mildly punish Dean over, but in the instance of having a newcomer in the household, the older mand felt as though he had to display a rough act of punishment to ensure his message got through to everyone in the household, especially the rebellious Dean Winchester.

With a brisk movement, Walter had Dean pinned to the wall by his throat, squeezing at his sweaty neck with calloused hands. Dean grunted at the sudden threat, and struggled against Walter's hand, but found it futile seeing as how the man was much bigger than he. "Now, you listen here, you little punk-"

"Let him go!" screamed a young female voice from behind, as the television remote came hurdling towards the wall and slamming into it next to Dean's head.

Walter turned around immediately to find a worked up Naomi panting as she rubbed at her shoulder from the pulled muscle she acquired after chucking the remote.

"You want to join him?" Walter hissed, tightening his grip on Dean's neck as the teen boy continued to struggle.

"Walter, that's enough. You're unbelievable!" Bonnie shouted as she watched in horror from the kitchen's doorway. Her eyes were widened beyond belief and she had an expression on her face so frightened, it was almost as if she'd witnessed a death.

After taking into consideration the damage already done, Walter took a step back from Dean, releasing him from his strong grasp, and leaving the teenager to gasp for air for a few moments. As soon as Dean caught his breath, he fleed up the stairs and locked himself in his room.

Stumbling in disbelief at the scene he'd just witnessed, Cas was certain that there was something going on between Walkter and Dean, and he rushed up the stairs, himself, to see if Dean was alright. It wasn't everyday that your newly acquired foster father tries to choke out one of the foster kids, so it was definitely an experience Cas would document and never forget.

But overall, he had to make sure Dean was okay. "Dean!" He called out as he banged on the door after running up the stairs.

Quickly, Dean whisked the door open, grabbed Cas' arm and tugged him inside the room, and then slammed the door once more, locking it.

"What the hell, man," Cas spat out, attempting to catch his breath from suddenly being jerked into the room.

"_What the hell_? That's all you got?" Dean snarked, throwing himself on his bed, frustrating rising with each second he played the scene back in his head.

"Well, I just wanted-"

"Wanted what? To see if I was okay? I'll live." Dean spoke confidently, his broken voice obviously forcing itself through the scratchiness of his throat.

Cas had barely been here for a few days and already things were off to a flying start. Is this what he had to expect during his time here? If so, he'd have to find a way to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. But...how?


	4. Hide me, Help me

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this was a really rough chapter for me to write, especially because my purpose here was to give a little insight on Michael's and his brothers' stories, as well as stir up some drama for Cas and Naomi. I'm honestly really liking that their relationship is building, and it also kind of tests Dean's strength.**

**I wanted to really touch base on the fact that Walter is a true monster, because the way I plan to portray him in the upcoming chapters is probably going to be atrocious. I think it will help Dean and Cas really get past this, as well as Naomi... so I hope you guys like where this chapter is going!**

**Sorry it seems so scattered and/or dark-ish. I do have a reason for that, but you won't find out until the later chapters! Thank you all for reading. I'm sorry I'm a slow poster for chapters, but I work on these chapters as much as I can with what little time I have!**

* * *

_Knock, knock._

Green eyes peered out at the blank ceiling, circling in the motion the fan made as it spun. A frustrated huff escaped the teen's mouth as he slowly turned his attention towards the door that was being pounded on. Dean licked his dry lips as he continued to stare plainly at the the door, unsure if he should respond to the knocking or not. He had been in his room for three days, refusing to come out unless it was to either go to the bathroom or sneak down into the kitchen late at night for a snack when no one was around to give him trouble.

He had kept himself locked in the room for three days with little to no communication with even his roommate. After his spat with Walter, Dean felt it would be best to stay out of the man's way for a while. At least it gave him time to contemplate his escape from this place, and to work on a master plan to get him and the other kids to be either taken away from the Taylors, or find a way to kill them. Either way, something had to be done.

For almost five minutes, the knocking continued, and the only thing he could hear on the other side of the door was Walter's sour voice creeping through like a poison trying to set into the air. It was thick, and loud, and raspy, and rude - everything Dean despised in a man. And it's not like it was that much different from his own father's, either. John was the alpha type, the commander in the squad, and what ever he asked of Dean, the wish got fulfilled because Dean was always the perfect little soldier. However, it didn't come naturally for Dean to listen to other people as well as his father, and perhaps that came as a fault of family values. As much as Dean loved his father, he knew he was emotionally abused in some way, but it kept Sam safe, so that was the important thing.

The same aspect tied into this new household, as well. Dean was Walter's primary target, when he wasn't picking on Naomi, and Dean preferred that simply because he could handle it - or so he thought - and he would rather deal with Walter himself than allow the stifling old man to harm one of the younger kids. After all, Dean was the big brother, and with that title came a serious responsibility.

"Come out of there, or I'll break the door down!" Walter shouted from outside the room door. Dean just rolled his eyes at the man's words, and turned over to face the other side of the room. His view was nothing special - just a couple separation sheets hung up to help Cas keep some privacy, and some other miscellanious items on the shared shelves lined up against the wall. Needless to say, the room was boring.

"OPEN UP," came another shout, as the knocking became pounding and the walls began to vibrate. It was actually a little comical to see Walter putting forth such an outstanding effort to lure Dean out of the room, especially since he knew that Walter wouldn't break the door down. If he broke the door, that would mean it had to be replaced, and that would mean work that Walter didn't want to do.

"Give it a rest, Walt, and leave the boy alone. Don'tcha think you've done enough?" Bonnie barked, her voice low and serious - a rare case, even for a heavy situation. The past few days have given her all the reason in the world to be upset with her husband, and she was quickly growing tired of his antics. Everyone in the house had tension with Walter, and it was becoming obvious that he was the main issue here. If he wasn't the primary income provider, Bonnie swears she would have rid herself of him sooner.

No doubt, she loved him, but since the younger boys and girls came along, her relationship with Walter was nothing but arguments and chore exchanges. Their sex life had died a long time ago, so the only romance they really had was a small dinner to themselves and sometimes a night out away from the commotion. Now, those nights came few and far between, if even at all during the months, because of their overwhelming responsibility to the kids.

* * *

It was early in the morning and the kids were just starting to wake up. One by one, they slowly rose and hogged the bathroom down the hall from their rooms, each one spouting off some smart comment to the most recent user. However, one member in particular preferred to wait until the bathroom commotion was dimmed down and the hot water had a chance to ante back up.

Michael was, by far, the smartest of the brothers since he worked as hard as he could not to get in Walter's way, and he also helped Naomi with anything she asked. It's almost like he had a crush on her, but not quite. He saw her mainly as an older sister who would do anything for him and the rest of the kids here. He admired her bravery and even tried to adopt some of her headstrong traits. Unlike his brothers, Michael was very timid. His brothers were usually the first to jump head first into any situation, but Michael saw the world in a different light. Along with his timid nature, the eldest brother was more laid back and relaxed, and was known to keep to himself. That, he was thankful for, mainly because it meant little to no trouble for him, especially from Walter.

Along with his admiration for Naomi, Michael took a strong liking to Dean's personality and his overall rough demeanor. In a way, he looked up to Dean and saw him as a role model for how he should act around his own brothers. One thing was for certain - Michael was thankful to have such a compatible and outstanding team of two to look up to for his own sake. Dean and Naomi made the perfect defense pair, and Michael was basically taking notes for when he would have to deal with Walter when Dean and Naomi left the house.

Unfortunately, however, this wasn't the first time that the eldest brother had dealt with bad people in bad situations. When they were brought here, Michael was more than certain they would be spending the rest of their lives here, whereas his brothers always had hopes that someone would adopt them and provide for them a better home than their parents ever could. It was depressing, especially to Michael, since he had been raised in a mostly poor home. He knew that his parents tried their hardest to provide for the boys, but they seemed to cause more harm than anything. It was a wonder how him and his brothers survived his father's shortcomings, especially after his father decided it would be a good idea to piss off a crook who was a little too sideways for his own good. It was that very thing that landed the four boys in this mess in the first place, and the government wasn't necessarily favoring the parents this time around.

Thinking about all of this had Michael's head spinning. It was the first time in over a month he allowed these negative thoughts to cross over the barrier in his mind, and he was instantly regretting it. Sighing, he sat up in his bed, and gazed out into the still room, listening to his brothers and Charlie and Anna fighting over who gets to go next in the bathroom and who should give who privacy.

Michael drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat before he decided it was a good time to start preparing his clothes for the day and grab a towel for a shower. He slipped the covers down his legs, hopped off the mattress, and proceeded to make the bed. Satisfied with the messy job, the young teen turned around to the main dresser, but was caught off guard by a spying Naomi standing in the doorway.

"What'cha doin', punk?" Naomi teased, squeezing the towel ontop of her head in an attempt to dry her hair a little more.

"Grabbing some clothes for the wash...laundry day." Michael responded, keeping his answers short.

"Sounds fair," Naomi paused, idly watching him for a brief moment while she collected her thoughts. "Hey, listen..um..."

"Hm?" Michael listened on, sifting through the dresser for something light and casual.

"Look, me and Cas are going to go for a walk later. Figured you could use the time away from your brothers..What do you say?" Naomi asked, her voice a little shaky as her offer came forth.

"Well-" Michael started, but was cut off by another voice.

"Hey, I'm ready. You're coming right?" Cas interrupted as he peered into the room over Naomi's shoulder.

"I don't really want to go with you guys..." Michael said, his response seeming somewhat reserved.

"Why not? We've never hung out and it would be cool to get to know you. Plus, we're going to get ice cream. Found a $5 bill downstairs in the kitchen. It's probably Walter's, but hey, finder's keepers." Castiel rambled, waving the lucky bill around like it was a trophy.

Michael shook his head at the two invading his space and pursed his lips in annoyance. He pulled out a baby blue shirt and searched it for stains, making sure that it was good to go. Nodding at it for a moment, he folded it over his arm and turned to face Naomi and Cas directly. "I said I don't want to go. Now, move?" Michael said, keeping his head down as he attempted to push past the two.

"What's your problem?" Naomi asked, true concern coating her tone.

"You're in my way, and I want to take a shower before the water gets cold again." At this point, annoyance was growing deep in Michael's tone. He wasn't as fond of Cas as Naomi and Dean were, and he honestly couldn't see the attraction the two had for Cas.

"Let's just go," Cas tugged Naomi along as he stepped towards the staircase. He exchanged glares with Michael as Michael shoved him out of the way with his shoulder, and finally pushed past Naomi.

Astounded, Naomi furrowed her brows and turned towards Cas. Confusion was plastered on her face as she scoffed in disgust at her foster brother's actions. "I have no idea what's gotten into him." Naomi sighed, shaking her head at the ordeal. Cas pursed his lips, unsure of how to respond, so he just tugged her along more and the two of them made their way downstairs.

* * *

"Where is that five?" Walter husked, digging through his old jeans pockets. "Bonnie! Where's my wallet?"

"Don't you ever stop yelling?" The older woman stepped out from behind the closet door with a hamper of laundry and Walter's wallet sitting on top.

"If you'd answer me, I wouldn't have'ta yell." Walter snapped, spotting his wallet and snatching it from atop the pile of clothes.

"Why don't you use that bike we got? Get outside and ride around. Might challenge your mind a little more than the television." Bonnie's tone was mostly snide, but she meant well with her suggestion. She had always encouraged her husband to engage in constructive activites, and often wondered why he rarely took her advice. Possibly, it could be because he was getting older, but Bonnie felt it was mainly because he was just too lazy and had no drive.

"I just wanted 'ma wallet. I got it, and now I'm content." Walter spat out with a slight twang in his words. He was tired, mostly, so his words were somewhat slurred. He had had an exhausting morning pounding on Dean's door to really feel like today was something worth exercising over.

Bonnie pursed her lips at her husband's attitude, and shook her head as she turned and made her way down the stairs towards the laundry room.

On the other side of the house, Charlie and Anna had already gone outside and started their day. Bonnie watched them through the small window of the laundry room, and smiled some as she admired their youth and their energy as they roughed around in the backyard with their dolls. A sigh escaped her lips as she reminisced about her own youthful days for a moment, but then was quickly snapped out of the daze when she heard a familiar voice approaching from behind.

"Dean, what are you doing downstairs?" She asked as she broke from her chore and turned her head halfway to glance at him from the corner of her eyes.

Timidly, Dean shrugged and stared at the floor a moment before responding. "Tired of being cooped up, and I needed a drink." He started, but then was caught by his own coughing fit.

Bonnie turned all the way around to face him and slowly approached, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean lifted his head to look her in the face and he pouted his lips some, his slight suffering showing evident in his expression.

"Honey, I think you'd be better off in there today. Better not let Walt catch you down here." She advised, and patted the side of his cheek softly. Dean leaned into it somewhat, but then pulled away to slide behind the laundry room door as he heard Walter stomping down the stairs in a hustle.

"I'm goin' out," Walter announced as he reached the bottom of the staircase. "Bonnie! Where are-" he paused as he turned his head to notice her doing some work in the laundry room. He let out a heavy sigh and walked over to the laundry room and stood in the doorway to stare at her for a brief moment. "What the hell are they doing?!" Walter shouted, and slammed his hand into the laundry room door, pushing it against the wall and evidently smashing Dean behind it.

A small grunt came from behind the door as Dean was caught between the wall and the door, but luckily it was so faint that Walter didn't hear him. Dean let out a soft breath of relief, and relaxed against the wall as the door's pressure against him was let loose.

"What are you talking about?" Bonnie nagged him, annoyance showing apparent in her voice.

"They're diggin' up the yard!" The husky man roused, and turned around to stomp out of the laundry room.

"They're not-" Bonnie started, but stopped herself from continuing her thought as Walter walked away without even bothering to listen to her. She rolled her eyes at his accusations of the girls' actions outside, and turned back around to tend to the laundry once more.

"You can come out now, Dean." Bonnie hummed.

Slowly, Dean pushed the door away from the wall and peaked around the slim structure to check and make sure it was clear for him to step out from behind the door. He pursed his lips and sighed softly, secretly wishing that his father would just come and pick him up already. He turned his head to glance out the window to see Walter yelling at the two girls outside, who seemed to just be making some kind of swimming pool for their dolls. Dean shook his head at the man's outburst of anger and turned around to walk out of the laundry room.

He made his way towards the kitchen to make himself something to eat and get a drink as well. As he reached the messy room, he took a look around and eyed the area with disappointment. He knew that Bonnie never went to sleep when the house was messy, considering she was pretty much a neat freak, but he had to really wonder what was going on with the kitchen. According to the talk he picked up on between the other foster kids, Bonnie hadn't been cleaning like she used to. She seemed to have taken a break ever since the recent scuffle with himself and Walter.

It was disappointing, really, to know that something so small could send the woman into a cleaning depression, but he did understand it some. She was stressed, and stress makes you unwilling to do things you had the greatest passion for. He understood that stress, mostly because he felt it every day. Although, he had wanted to get out this house for so long, the stress mainly kept his mindset gloom, and that caused his activity to lessen a little more every day since he got here.

Dean managed to make himself a quick ham and cheese sandwich and snag a glass of water before he made his way back upstairs. He wasn't exactly sure when he would feel ready to come out of his room, but he anticipated it being some time this week. The feeling of being in one enclosed space for so long was creeping into his overall depressive attitude of being left here with basically no communication with his family, and it was honestly bogging him down.

He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to deal with Walter until he, or Naomi, finally snapped, but he wanted at least to make a difference with dealing with the brute when the right time came around to do so.

As he reached the top of the staircase, Dean turned his head to notice one of the four brothers humming about in the shared room. Curiosity instantly striking, Dean sauntered over to see what was going on with the boy, and poked his head in the doorway. "Hey," Dean said quietly, hoping to gain the boy's attention without startling him.

The younger dark-haired boy turned around to greet the tired Dean Winchester, and offered a small smile to the shadowed face standing in his doorway. "Hey," Michael replied back simply before turning back around to his bed where his blue shirt was splayed atop it, waiting to be worn.

"You uh.. Doin' okay in here?" Dean's tone was mostly endearing, but the raspiness of it definitely showed there was something wrong with his demeanor.

"I'm alright. How's life in the chicken coop?" Michael said back, pulling the blue shirt over his head after putting on his pants. He turned to Dean for a moment and pursed his lips, studying the tired face.

"So that's what they're calling it? Heh." Dean dropped his eyes to the floor for a moment in short thought and then returned his focus to Michael. "It's lonely."

"I stole this for you and Cas if you ever want to play it." Michael stated calmly, approaching Dean with his hand held out. Dean arched a brow and leaned over the item some, reading the name at the top of the slim case. "I don't play shooters, though..." Dean said with a somewhat disappointed tone, feeling as though he was about to let the young boy down.

"Cas does. He can show you. Here, I'll watch you guys when you play it." Michael responded, tucking the game in between Dean's arm and his side, and then patting his arm as he pushed past him to hang his towel up in the bathroom.

Dean had no choice but to accept it, seeing as how the kid seemed really enthusiastic about wanting him to have it. He shrugged his shoulders some and followed the boy halfway down the hall. "Has Walter said anything, Michael?"

"About you?"

"Yeah."

"Other than 'I'm going to beat him senseless' at the dinner table last night, no. I don't think Walter really likes you..." The ending sentence lingered in Dean's mind for a moment, as well as the sadness of the tone that it came out Michael's mouth with.

"Yeah, I see that."

"I think he just doesn't like your dad, so he hates you too."

"What?" Utter surprised smacked Dean in the face at Michael's comment, and it nearly caused Dean to drop everything he had in his hand. Instead, he gripped everything tighter and turned around to follow Michael back to the bedroom.

"He always talks bad about your dad and how he knows you have a cell phone. Naomi doesn't even know you have cell phone, Dean, why does Walter know?"

"That son of a bitch is going through my shit?!" Dean yelled, this time his voice was uncontrollably loud, and instant regret rushed through his heart. _Shit__**.**_

In that moment, everything seemed to freeze. The front door was slammed with a rushed force that nearly shook the house. Dean could feel his heart drop to his stomach, and he slowly turned away from the group bedroom to make his way towards his own. As he heard stamping up the rickety steps, Dean practically ran into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, locking it with the two free fingers he had.

He rushed over to his bed and sat the sandwich down on it as well as the game case, and then set the water down on his side table. Frantically, he pulled open the drawer to his side table and relief set in as he noticed his cell phone sitting in there, untouched. He sighed softly and picked it up, softly running his thumb over the slick plastic on the outside of it. He shook his head and turned his head to the door as he heard banging on it. He could instantly feel a lump of nervousness forming in his throat, but he elected to remain silent.

"DEAN!" The person on the other side of the door shouted, pounding on it as hard as he could.

Dean drew in a deep breath and stomped over to the door, unlocking it, and whisking it open to find Cas, who seemed desperate to get his attention. "You scared the hell out of me!" Dean whispered loudly, almost as if he was yelling softly.

"I need your help," Cas panted.

"What happened?"

"It's Naomi. We went out for a walk and we were racing to the store and it just happened so fast, and I don't really know how to tell you, but she got hit."

Everything froze again. It was almost as if nothing made sense at that moment, and the world that was spinning so crazily was just non-existent anymore. _She got hit_, that's what Cas said. Dean felt his entire stomach start to churn at the thought of Naomi being hurt, and he wasn't sure exactly how to take this. His heart sunk all the way to the pit of his stomach, and it took him a moment to snap out of it.

"DEAN!" Cas shouted again, but this time he had his hands on Dean's shoulders and was shaking him to bring him back to reality. "I. Need. Your. Help."

"Did you fucking call 9-11?" Dean forced out.

"Yeah, but I had to come back here, I need you. I need your help."

"It's okay, Cas. It's gonna be okay." Dean patted Cas' shoulder and swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gain some strength back that he lost in his legs when the news set in. "It's okay."

The two of them set out together down the stairs and ran for the door, but were stopped when they were greeted with the grungy face of Walter Taylor. Holding back no trace of fear, Dean stared blankly into Walter's eyes. Every single ounce of rage was building in him now, and the only thing he had on his mind was Naomi and her well-being.

"Where the hell are you two going?" Walter snapped, plowing into the boys like they were cattle and forcing them back into the house.


	5. Guilt

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, everyone! So I was extremely eager to write this chapter, so I got it out as soon as possible. I think this is going to really tie a lot of things together, especially for the next few chapters. I'm sorry if it's heavy, and I'm sorry if some things seem off. I wrote it while I was a little tired, so I'm sorry if there's misspelled words or whatever. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**And don't worry, monster Walter will be revealed in the next chapter. I plan to really go into detail about the scene that happened when Dean and Cas were running out and Walter stopped them, so please don't think that I missed that part! I just didn't want to cover that in this chapter, because it didn't seem relevant for what I was trying to portray here.**

* * *

_Bright headlights shined through the large window of the compact living room. A polished, black '67 Chevy Impala sat outside packed with two boys, an older man, and the rest was filled with clothes and other belongings. Out stepped a man about the height of 6'1" from the driver's seat of the classic car. He brushed a hand through his salt and pepper sanded hair, and let out a hefty sigh. The man turned towards the back seat and opened the door, reaching in and pulling out a teenage boy bundled in a couple thick blankets. He held him bridal style and turned away from the door to kick it closed with his foot._

_The other boy remained sitting silently in the car as he watched his father carry his older brother to the doorway that introduced an older woman and a husky looking older man. Sam, the younger boy, watched carefully as his father talked for a moment to the couple, holding his older brother tightly in his arms._

_John, the father, brought the older boy close to him and kissed him multiple times on the forehead. The older boy, Dean, just lay snug in his father's arms, embracing the kisses as the comfort set in for a little while. He wasn't used to being carried, much less a receiver of affection, but it was nice to have once in a while, so he enjoyed it while he could. His face was mostly snuggled against John's chest, and John made sure to hold his son for as long as he possibly could._

_The couple, Bonnie and Walter Taylor, welcomed the two into their home so they could converse about the arrangements of Dean staying there while he was sick so his dad could continue on his hunting trip. John turned around to Sam and nodded his head once in a gesture to pretty much say 'I'll be right back'. Sam nodded back to him in approval and John turned around to enter the unfamiliar homestead._

_As the door closed behind him, John took the initiative to set his bundled, sick son down on the couch for him to rest some. Dean let out a series of heavy coughs as he huddled himself against the couch cushions in an attempt to gain more warmth. He sighed as the burning in his throat made it hard for him to swallow, and John sat down in front of him, massaging Dean's waist some._

_"How long do you need him to stay?" Bonnie spoke up after a long silence between the three adults._

_John let out a soft sigh and continued massaging his son's torso. "A few months, I suspect. He's got a pretty nasty cough and I can't drag him along with me. Not with my other boy, and especially not living out of a car. Boy needs some stability for a while so he can get better. I'll send money when I can." John assured, his tired eyes staring blankly into Bonnie's._

_The woman studied him for a moment, trying to get a feel for the father and figured he really just needed help with the kid. "What's his name?" She asked curiously, eyeing the teen some before returning her gaze to John._

_"Dean." John said calmly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he bit back the overwhelming emotion of sorrow trying to pass through his tone._

_"He'll be okay," Bonnie comforted, placing a hand on John's free one and rubbing her fingers along the top of his hand for a short moment. She nodded to him, and he returned the nod, accepting her endearment._

_John closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in the reality of the situation, and trying to get comfortable with leaving Dean in yet another home. Although it seemed like a regular vice, John did actually feel bad each time he had to abandon one or both of his sons so he could continue his work. In a way, he would never be able to forgive himself for being absent so much in his childrens' lives, but there were just some things he couldn't avoid. Besides, this would help Dean get better, seeing as how he wasn't experiencing climate change and new atmospheres every other day, and perhaps his immune system could strengthen up some._

_Walter was mostly quiet throughout the conversation, but he never took his eyes off of John. Something didn't strike him quite right about this John guy, and Walter was mostly skeptical of him. He didn't seem like the kind of character who should be putting on such a show to this family, seeing as how he seemed mostly apathetic. He was a very stone-cold kind of person and Walter didn't appreciate the father's attitude. He felt like he was fake, someone who just pawned his kids off on other people when they became inconvenient. And in a way, that's what John did, but he didn't mean it in that sense. Then again, you can never be too sure with an addict - regardless of what their obsession is._

_"You gonna send money? Yeah, how much?" Walter said with a flat tone, his heavy eyes staring John down._

_"As much as I can. I figure at least $50 a week." John responded, his hand moving up to Dean's shoulder to give it a massage as well as the rest of his upper body._

_"Won't work, we need $100."_

_"Walter..." Bonnie protested, giving him the 'what's wrong with you' face, and then turning back to John to offer an uncomfortable 'sorry' smile._

_John closed his eyes and shook his head as he dropped his head some to the floor. What a joke these people were. But, at least they were willing to watch over Dean for a while, whereas he wouldn't have been able to._

_"He'll need meds, I guess. I'll keep you posted on financial aid." John said and stood up from the couch after granting Dean one last kiss to the forehead. He stared down at his son for a long while before turning his attention back to the old, tired couple._

_Bonnie patted John's shoulder for a second and walked away to the kitchen to start a pot of tea as Walter insisted on showing John out. Walter walked John back to the car and the two of them stood around for a few just chatting about other arrangements and other small details for Dean's time there. John held out his hand to Walter and pursed his lips some. "Mr. Taylor."_

_Walter stared down at it for a second before extending his own hand, accepting the hand shake proudly. "Mr. Winchester."_

_John snorted loudly and pulled open the driver's seat door to the Impala and climbed in, instantly starting the vehicle and revving the engine some to heat it up a little more._

_"I expect $75 a week, Winchester!" Walter shouted as he watched the remaining two pull out of the dirt driveway. _

_John waved his hand at Walter in understanding of his demands and drove off into the night. As they pulled away, Sam could be seen plastered to the window, watching the house pass him by. Sam sighed heavily and sunk down in the seat, a feeling of sadness and fear washing over him. "Dad, is Dean going to be okay?"_

_"Dean will get better in no time, and then we'll come back and pick him up, Sammy. But first he needs to actually get better." John's voice was mostly soothing and reassuring, so Sam had no choice but to try and believe his father and try to feel good about the entire thing._

_"I told Dean to call me when he wakes up. I slipped a cell phone in his pocket." John announced to his youngest as they came to a stop sign at the end of the road. Sam perked up at that statement and smiled some. "So we'll hear from Dean all the time?"_

_"You bet'cha." John stated simply, glancing at Sam in the back seat from the rearview mirror. "Get some rest, son."_

* * *

There it was. The stillness. The emptiness of the household as the elder foster kids and the Taylors were gone to visit Naomi in the hospital. The entire house seemed cold, dark, and dry, much like a winter night in the middle of December. Everything seemed quiet, and yet the smallest sound was enough to pique the interest of one Michael who sat fearfully at the edge of his bed.

He stared down at his empty, shaking hands, his eyes focusing on the dirt circling his cuticles. Not even a sigh could be mustered, and the solitude was frightful. Not one person was left in the house at this time besides Michael, and it got him really wondering what everyone was doing at the moment.

Dean, he was probably sitting in a chair at the hospital, huddled in a blanket to keep himself from getting sicker. Cas was probably somewhere near him, trying to comfort him. Charlie and Anna were dropped off at the local neighbors so they could be watched, and Michael's brothers were all at a friends' house playing video games, probably not even informed of what was going on.

And the Taylors - they were were probably sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, worried out of their minds for Naomi's well-being.

And Naomi, what was she doing? How was she doing? What could she possibly be thinking right at this very moment? Was she afraid? Was she confident? Was she even _awake?_

Michael couldn't seem to bring himself to process a full thought, let alone a positive one at the moment. What was _he_ even thinking? Nothing besides the distraught feel of worry flowed through his system, and he was shrouded in a cloud of disbelief and non-reality.

The young, dark-haired boy sat in his room for probably over an hour, just staring blankly down at the floor, attempting to process and kind of positive thought, but had no luck doing so. He couldn't help but think of the last things he had said to her before all this happened. The whole week had been rough for him, and he was just feeling a little off that day, so he didn't think anything of his comments before he so rudely spit them out.

What would have happened if Michael had agreed to go with them? Would they have waited at least five minutes for him to get ready so they could all go together? Would they have gone a different route, or stopped to talk to someone before trying to cross the road to get to the shopping plaza? How different would the day have turned out if 'five minutes longer' was a factor in the plan? What would have happened, then?

Michael shook his head at the doubt building up in his head and hopped off the edge of his bed to walk around and try to make sense of all of this. He paced back and forth for a little while, reflecting on his earlier actions and basicall kicking himself for saying what he said to Naomi.

_"I said I don't want to go. Now, move?"_

There it was again. The silence. Michael let out a heavy sigh and stared out into the openness of his room and instant regret filled his heart. What was going to happen to her? How could he save her?

* * *

Pacing was the only thing Cas could think of doing that could possibly take his mind off of the frantic setting his mind was currently enduring. Every stupid little thought was pushing in and out, one after another, seeping its way further into the guilt the teen felt.

He practically caused her accident, and it was exactly that action that made his entire heart remain filled with regret, sadness, guilt, and worry. '_Let's race', _he had said to her when they were at the stop sign about to cross the street. Instead of running with her, Cas decided to trick her into running out into the street alone, while he stayed behind and laughed at her embarrassment for runing out alone.

It was just a joke. Just a funny, stupid little game he liked to play with his newfound friend and he didn't think it could end up like this. His parents had always taught him to look both ways before crossing the street, and he thought he did this time. But he must have misjudged, because the truck that came flying down the road was no stranger to the pavement.

Thinking of it sent shivers up his spine. Seeing it happen, seeing her body take the impact like it was a dummy waiting to be trampled. Watching time stand still for what seemed like forever while the impact took place, and her body was sent a few hundred feet away from where she was standing. The entire world around him had stopped, and he screamed her name, his voice breaking as the rush of fear engulfed him.

'NAOMI!' he screamed to himself in his mind, as he continued pacing. The event kept playing over and over again in his head, and he couldn't get the image of the accident out of his mind. It wasn't even that she was thrown a few hundred feet forward, or that there was a mass of blood spilling out around her body, or even the look on her face when she took the impact. It was the simple fact that, had he not tried to trick her, she would have never been in this situation.

Guilt sat on his mind from the split second it happened. And as the events kept playing back in his mind, each time, the outcome was worse. There was more blood, she flew farther. She was so lifeless for such a long period time, it seemed. Cas could barely even bring himself to run over to her to see if she was okay, but he managed.

He ran as quick as he could over to her and was careful not to touch her, in fear of causing her body more shock than it already endured. He placed an ear against her chest to check her heart beat, and then placed two fingers against her neck to check there as well. As faint as her heartbeat was, he was thankful she even had one at all. When he turned his head to look at her face, his eyes were instantly soaked with salty tears.

In that moment, he took it upon himself to call 9-11, and to get a paramedic team out to come and take Naomi to the hospital. But disbelief still consumed him. He was in utter shock, and the only thing that led him to do was escape. He had to get out of there, had to get it out of his mind. He had to tell Dean.

With that, he ran back to the house and raced up the stairs where he forced Dean out of his room to break the news to him. When he informed Dean of the accident, he could almost hear Dean's heart breaking. It was rough, and painful, and overwhelming, but he managed to get the words out just right.

_"She got hit."_

It was almost as unreal coming out of his mouth as it was seeing the event unfold infront of his face.

* * *

After about half an hour or so of pacing back and forth, Cas was finally advised to take a seat and just wait it out like the rest of the group that came with. He didn't exactly want to sit down, because sitting meant being still, and stillness was not okay right now. Not for Cas. But he figured his pacing was making the situation more nerve-racking for the others, so he kindly agreed and took a seat next to Dean.

He placed a hand against the small of Dean's back and massaged it some, comforting the Winchester and attempting to focus on that.

"Don't touch me." Dean hissed, arching his back away from the warm touch of Cas' hand.

"Dean..." Cas started, but was instantly cut off.

"This is YOUR fault!" Dean spat, sitting up some in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair and turning some to face Cas. "None of us would be here - SHE - wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your stupid games."

"I know! I'm sorry!" Cas nearly sobbed at that point and turned away, letting out a loud huff of frustration, attempting to keep his eyes from swelling more and tearing up.

"That's enough." Bonnie interrupted before the argument could get too far. She perked up some in her chair and exchanged glares with both of the boys, her glare evidently harder and more intimidating. She shook her head at them and snorted at their antics.

"Sorry," Dean apologized harshly and turned back around to the chair and nuzzled his nose against the corner of the chair and the wall it sat against.

Cas pursed his lips and reached a hand to his head to run his fingers through his thick, dark hair. He stared down at the plain white floor for a while before electing to get a couple drinks for the group. "Anyone want anything? I got five bucks..." Cas announced in a low tone.

Walter lifted his head from his hunched position with an instant glare staring down Cas like he was about to plow him right then and there. "Yeah, you're welcome, 'ya little shit."

"What?" Cas was confused at Walter's comeback, but then again, that was pretty common.

"I know you stole my money, you ungrateful little shit. Now get the hell out of my sight." Walter spat back at Cas.

The teen's mouth just dropped some at the retort from the elder grouch and disbelief struck him once again. Even in a time like this, Walter was a bastard. Then again, what else is new? Tragedy or not, the guy's personaly isn't just going to change to make light of one situation. Cas just took the comment and rolled his eyes as he walked away down the hall to the vending machine where he could grab a couple of drinks for Dean and himself.

He browsed absentmindedly through the selections and finally decided on two orange sodas for the two and sauntered back over to the waiting area. He sat down next to Dean and plopped the cold can of soda onto Dean's lap.

Dean looked down at the can of orange soda sitting idly on his lap. His eyes were heavy from fatigue and he couldn't find the strength to even turn to Cas and say thank you. He just slowly accepted the drink and set it down next to one of the chair's legs and went back to snuggling with the chair and the corner of the wall.

Dean had been coughing like crazy since he arrived at the hospital, and he blamed it mostly on the dry air that filled the waiting room, and also the fact there were probably twenty other people there that were sick, themselves. He didn't have a very high confidence level for the situation turning out well for Naomi, and the stress from that shot his immune system down even more. The only thing he could think about was Naomi, and how she was so eager to get out of the house and find a purpose for each day.

He took a moment to admire her headstrong attitude, and enormous confidence level that each day was going to be great, even when it wasn't. Naomi was one person Dean could find himself really appreciating, much like his brother. She reminded him so much of Sam, what with her want to always set out on any adventure she could and really fill the time with something useful and fun.

* * *

They had been sitting there for over three hours now and everyone was equally worried for Naomi's well-being. Even after multiple attempts to get an update, no news was shared with the group. The group figured as though the doctors and nurses were just busy trying to restore Naomi's vitals and bring her body to stability, but the anticipation was what hurt the most.

About another half hour passed and finally someone had come out to address the group's concerns for the teen girl.

"Ms. Taylor?" spoke a short, blonde nurse who seemed like she had been working a lot of overtime, judging from the bags under her eyes.

"Yes?" Bonnie answered, standing up immediately to greet the young nurse. "How is she? Is she okay? Is-"

"She's stable. For now. We've got her hooked up to a ventilator until she can start breathing on her own. After running a chest scan, we found that she had a collapsed lung, so that will have to heal in time. Unfortunately, we may have to perform surgery on her left leg, as it was torn up pretty bad in the accident. She may also have a concussion or trauma, but we'll monitor to see. Otherwise, she seems to be doing okay. When she wakes up, we can allow you to go back and visit her, but she needs to rest right now." The nurse spoke as calmly as she could, addressing each thing as clear and precise as possible so as to not alarm anyone in the group that was listening.

Bonnie nodded her head slowly during the nurse's explanation, and just stood there for a moment looking into the young woman's eyes, studying her for a moment.

"Maybe you would like a coffee...?" The nurse offered, extending her arm towards the guest break room that had a couple coffee pots sitting about.

Bonnie turned around to see what the nurse was talking about and then turned back around to face her. "Thank you," Bonnie spoke softly, worry causing her voice to tremble some. She decided to hold off on getting coffee for a little while until she was really feeling tired.

Cas was mostly disappointed with the news as it was announced, because there was nothing he could do to fix it. He didn't even know how he was going to look at her when they were allowed to go and visit. He took a moment to collect himself and really take in the information, and sat back into his chair, allowing his mind to wander off to thoughts unrelated to the situation at hand.

Finally, something other than this horrible accident. It was almost settling, in a way, to know what was going on, and be able to piece together an idea of how the victim was doing. First came the initial accident, then came the wait, and then came the relief after hearing the words 'stable' and 'okay'. Those words were perhaps the best two words Cas had ever heard in his lifetime, especially since the last time an accident had happened in his life, the outcome wasn't as promising as Naomi's seemed to be.

Still, he was anxious and confused about all of it. His mind had wandered towards something more comforting, and it was interesting because his mind was settled on Dean. The teen turned his head to face Dean, who seemed to be struggling with getting comfortable in the nook he created in the corner.

Cas let out a soft sigh and almost chuckled at Dean's moving around to find a comfortable position. He extended his legs across the chair next to him and leaned forward to pull Dean over towards his legs so he could lie down over Cas' legs. Surprisingly, Dean complied with the gesture and found it a little more comfortable to rest upon Cas' legs.

At least Cas was able to make himself useful, and he was happy that Dean wasn't yelling at him anymore and blaming the whole accident on him. However, he did understand the meaning behind the yelling and the blaming, but he didn't want that to cause a dent in their friendship.

Dean turned his head up for a moment to look up at Cas, who was now staring down back at Dean. The two matched their gaze with each others' for a brief moment before Dean finally broke the silence between them.

"Thanks," he said simply.

"For what?" Cas asked, curious and honestly confused.

"The soda. I didn't drink yet, but...thanks." Dean's words were sincere, and they sounded mostly appreciative to Cas' actions.

"How's the cough?" Cas asked, figuring the small talk could probably turn into an actual conversation given the right topics.

"It sucks, heh," Dean said and released a few choking coughs.

Cas winced some at Dean's eradic coughing fit and reached his arm out to place it atop Dean's head. Slowly, he ran his fingers through Dean's hair in an attempt to comfort him, hoping the eldest teen wouldn't mind. Luckily, Dean had a knack for people running their fingers through his hair, and like any person who enjoyed the act, he gave in, lowering his head in acceptance.

Dean rested his head back on Cas' legs, making himself comfortable once more as he enjoyed the subtle feeling of fingers smoothing through his hair. He didn't even care that Cas may be messing it up some because it felt so nice and relaxing.

"I want to help you get better." Cas offered, beginning to massage Dean's scalp.

Dean let out a soft moan at the start of the massage and nuzzled his face against Cas' knee before responding. "I don't know if you can, Cas. I think you're doing all that you can."

Cas allowed a small smile to play at the corners of his mouth at the sound of Dean's almost compliment, and he lowered his head some. "I'm just worried about you, Dean. You're so sick."

"I'll-" cough. "be-" cough. "fine." cough. Dean choked out and cleared his throat from the roughness the coughing fit caused his throat. He sighed softly and rolled his eyes at the uncontrollable coughing fit.

"You two look so pathetic and gay." Walter commented snidely as he watched the two nonchalantly. "I can't believe we have a couple of gays living in our house. Disgusting." He shook his head at the two in a scoffing manner and turned his head away so he wouldn't have to see the 'disgusting' sight of them.

"I'm _not_ gay." Dean snapped almost immediately, and attempted to sit up in the chair, but was weighed down by Cas' hand forcing him down to stay resting.

"Then why the hell are you cuddling with a fag?" Walter smirked some at his petty remark.

"It's called comforting somebody, you hag!" Cas practically yelled across the waiting room to the old grouch and stared him down with the biggest glare he could muster.

"I have had it!" Bonnie interrupted the quarrel once more. "All three of you are acting like children." Bonnie stood up from her chair where she had planted herself earlier after deciding not to get a cup of coffee. She turned her head once to glance at Dean and Cas, and then turned the other way to glare down at Walter, who seemed to be almost cowering at her brooding stare.

"What?!" Walter bit back at her, unsure of what he was doing wrong.

"You are unbelievable, Walt. At a time like this, the only thing you can think of is insulting the children we're fostering? Get a grip on yourself, or go home." Bonnie had had it with Walter's antics and crude comments. When she talked to him in this serious tone, he knew it was either shut it or leave, and he didn't want to leave, so he figured he had no choice but to shut it.

"Hmph," Walter grunted and folded his arms about his chest, turning his head away from the lot and staring off towards the reception desk. He didn't want anything to do with them.

Bonnie sat back down after the scuffle seemed to pass, and started tapping her fingers softly against her thighs in an attempt to keep her mind busy with the rhythm of the tapping.

Cas and Dean just watched the whole thing end when Bonnie took control of the situation. Thankfully she decided to come with, otherwise the boys would really be doomed. Cas turned back to Dean and smiled at him some, glad that he was able to comfort at least one person here.

Dean stared back up at Cas and just smiled back at him, thankful that he had someone there who was willing to try and make him feel better, even though it was pretty futile. "Are you?" he asked plainly, his green eyes searching for an answer in Cas' bold blue orbs.

Cas' brow furrowed some at Dean's question and he remained silent until he figured out exactly what was being asked of him. "I don't want to talk about it-" Cas started, but was cut off by Dean.

"It's okay, my dad doesn't know, so..." He let his voice trail off for a moment and then continued after a bit of silence. "Just don't let Walter get to you." Dean reassured, and Cas' small smile widened, the dimples in his cheeks increasing all the more as a stupid smile was displayed on his face and his cheeks grew a slight flush pink.

* * *

Two more hours had passed and the two elders had fallen asleep in their chairs, whereas Dean and Cas were quietly watching what ever detective show was on the small hospital television in the waiting room.

Dean was still snuggled against Cas' leg, and Cas still had his hand lazily spread across Dean's scalp, and every now and then he would massage it. It seemed like forever, but the two of them were content, especially now that the elders were asleep.

Dean had never felt so comfortable in his life. For once, he felt like something inside of him was complete, and like he was in the right place. Even though he was sitting in the hospital while his friend was fighting for her life, there was still no doubt in his mind that Cas was beginning to fill a void Dean had been missing all along.

It was obvious the two had chemistry when they met, but neither of them had imagined it would turn out like this, and especially not at this moment. But it did, and they were happy about it. Little by little, they were growing all the more attached to each other, and there seemed to really be something there that both of the boys had picked up on.

A few moments later, the silence was broken by the same nurse from earlier who had approached to bring another update. "Ms. Taylor?" She said, shaking Bonnie's shoulder some, waking her up.

Bonnie lifted her head some and came to pretty quickly, as she realized who was speaking to her. Almost instantly, she stood up and smiled at the woman who looked mostly confident in her stance.

"She's awake. You can go back and see her now." The nurse announced patiently, offering a half-smile and nodding to Bonnie before leading the way towards the admitted patients ward. Excited, Bonnie followed closely behind, leaving Walter to remain asleep while she checked on Naomi.

Cas and Dean were instructed to stay in the waiting room with Walter while Bonnie went back alone, and that was mostly because of the restricted amount of visitors the hospital had allowed Naomi to have. Only two at a time, but Bonnie was the first to visit.

As Bonnie and the nurse approached Naomi's room door, anticipation and fear formed in a lump in the older woman's throat. She swallowed hard, expecting the worst and mentally preparing herself for what Naomi would look like in the condition she imagined during her wait.

"Naomi? You have a visitor," the nurse spoke softly as she opened the door to the room and extended her arm to invite Bonnie inside.


End file.

Supernatural, Drama, Hurt-Comfort