Dom writes Destiel

As soon as the phone rang, everyone got their hopes up. Gabriel had been missing for two days already, and while Balthazar and Castiel barely made it to the couch, their sister Anna had been fast enough to get the call first.

"Hello? Gabriel?!" she called out, louder than usual, because all she wanted was to hear her brother's voice.

Castiel was grabbing onto his brother's shirt, who had fallen into the arm chair, and both of them lost it as they heard their sister's voice crack. Uncontrollable sobbing and crying filled the room as Anna smashed the speaker back into its place and ran towards her brothers, hanging on to them as if for dear life.

Their brother was dead. They had lost him forever. The one who had kept the hose busy with his tricks and pranks, and the one who lightened up the mood when they had been fighting again. Gone.

~~

The funeral of their brother was a mere torture. Most people say that the worst part about burrying a loved one was seeing them being let down into their grave, or having to stand there and shake so many hands of people you don't even know. But in fact, the worst part for Castiel was that his brother wasn't there to lighten up the mood. The whole family had been griefing for days. Not once had he seen his sister or brother smile ever since. Their father had spent most of the time in his office, killing his sad thoughts with work.

Castiel had mostly been looking through pictures of Gabriel and other things that reminded him of his brother. He didn't want to forget. Not like he forgot what his mother was like. He was still very small when she died, and because his father was busy with work he had been raised by his siblings mostly. To him it was like another parent had died.

~~

Two days after, going back to school was a torture. He was in sophomore year at high school, midterms only days ahead, even though he didn't worry about them. He was a good student, his grades better then average, even if there was always room for improvement, like his sister used to say.

But everyone he knew and anyone who had known his brother had been coming up to him to offer their condolences.

Still there was one person who refused to meet him and even look at him as Castiel greeted him. It was Dean, one of his brother's best friends and the boy Castiel he was in love with. Dean was a senior and a dickhead, pretending to be the baddest of asses out there, but actually a very polite and intelligent young man.

Or at least that's how Castiel knew him from when he came to visit their house.

But now... Dean had turned into a pain in the ass to anyone and everyone, ignored his friends and insulted his teachers. Even his little brother Sam, who was a good kid, studious and kind, avoided him in school and on his first day back, Castiel had heard him cry in the bathroom.

Castiel actually had had hopes before, about being with Dean some day in the future, or even just talking to him about his feelings, but now he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to talk to him like that again. He knew it was Gabriel's death who had turned his into this prick, but he didn't dare speak to Dean about it.

Even Anna had said, "Once I see him, I will high-five him in the face... with a chair."

"You... you shouldn't... I'm sure he's suffering. Just like us," Castiel had replied.

Anna looked at him in surprise, Castiel saw her tear up, and then she hugged him tightly and cried again. "You're such a good boy. Don't ever change, okay?"

Sometimes she talked to him as he were still a small child, especially when one of them was sad. But Castiel didn't mind, she was more than a sister to him. She was his sister, his best friend and kind of a mother to him as well.

On his second day back in school, when Castiel was on his way to one of his classes, his attention got caught by a loud brawl in the cafeteria not far away from his classroom.

Usually he avoided situations like these, but as he walked by and threw the crowd another look, he saw Dean with an angry expression on his face, a bloody nose, and an angry growl from the depth of his throat.

"Dean?," Castiel said under his breath as he stopped, and, after hesitating for a moment, turned towards the crowd. He fought his way through the ring of students, and stepped into the hot zone.

"Dean! Stop it!," he shouted as he stood there, not sure if he should get physically involved and try to stop him with his body or not. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up and fuck off!," Dean replied loudly, causing Castiel to shiver. He had never experienced that much hatred in Dean's voice.

"No, you shut up!," Castiel cried out before he closed in and pushed Dean to the ground, giving the other boy, who was already heavily beaten up, the oppotunity to leave.

"What the fuck are you doing?!," Dean shouted, totally enraged.

"I'm trying to keep you from doing something stupid...," Castiel replied, afraid because he had never seen Dean like this. He was wiping off the blood of his face with one of his sleeves, his upper body bent forward, like a bear in preparation to jump his prey. "Dean, please..."

"PLEASE WHAT?," Dean shouted again, shoved the younger one back and pinned him against the wall.

"You..." Dean breathed heavily. "Don't... try to help me," Dean said as his voice slowly got lower. "Leave me the fuck alone, because I'm sure I won't hold back next time," Dean growled into Castiel's ear, before he pulled him up and off the wall, and pushed him into the crowd.

One intense look after, Dean turned and left.

Castiel's thoughts and feeling were all sorts of messed up. He had never expected to see Dean like this. He wasn't even sure this was really Dean. Even his face showed to grotesque form of hate he had never seen before.

After he'd assured everyone that he was alright, he hurriedly left the cafeteria as well, making his way to the bathroom to wash his face.

The cold splash did him well,  but couldn't make him forget. The last hope he'd had for this boy was crushed. How was he ever able to meet him again? Would Dean hold back next time? Or would he even reduce him to pulp with just a couple of punches in the face, like he'd done it with the other boy? Just how could he? How did Dean turn into such a monster?

Castiel's knees gave in and he dropped to the ground, holding on to the sink and he cried dearly.

Just a few moments later the door opened and in it stood Sam, looking at Castiel in confusion.

"Hey, Cas... Are you okay?," Sam asked before he went towards his friend and sat down on a spot next to him.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm okay...," Castiel said as he tried to dry his face with a used paper towel he had picked up off the floor.

Sammy examined his face for a moment, then he laid his arms around Cas and said, "Hey... let's make a deal, okay? You and me won't cry anymore, not because of Dean."

"How did you...?"

"I saw Dean run outside and afterwards you followed. I wasn't sure if I should follow you or not, but I know I don't want to be alone when I'm sad."

Castiel smiled. "You're the perfect brother, Sam. I just with Dean knew that."

"Oh, I'm sure he knows. He told me. It's just... It's hard for him, losing his best friend, you know?"

"Yes... I know... Okay. No more crying," Castiel said before he got up and tossed the paper towel. "From now on we'll be cool."

"Cool," Sam replied and smiled.

"And if you ever feel like you don't want to be alone, or if you want to talk, you can always come to me. And I think Anna would like to see you again as well. She's worked on her special salad recipe."

"Okay, I'll make sure to visit you soon!," Sam said before he turned around and left for class.

Whenever a good child dies, an angel of God comes down from heaven, takes the dead child in his arms, spreads out his great white wings, and flies with him over all the places which the child had loved during his life. Then he gathers a large handful of flowers, which he carries up to the Almighty, that they may bloom more brightly in heaven than they do on earth. And the Almighty presses the flowers to His heart, but He kisses the flower that pleases Him best, and it receives a voice, and is able to join the song of the chorus of bliss.”

These words were spoken by an angel of God, Castiel, as he carried a dead child up to heaven, and the child listened as if in a dream. Then Castiel and Dean passed over well-known spots, where the little one had often played, and through beautiful gardens full of lovely flowers.

“Which of these shall we take with us to heaven to be transplanted there?” asked the angel.

Close by grew a slender, beautiful, rose-bush, but some wicked hand had broken the stem, and the half-opened rosebuds hung faded and withered on the trailing branches.

“Poor rose-bush!” said the child, “let us take it with us to heaven, that it may bloom above in God’s garden.”

Castiel took up the rose-bush; then he kissed Dean, and the little one half opened his eyes. The angel gathered also some beautiful flowers, as well as a few humble buttercups and heart’s-ease.

“Now we have flowers enough,” said the child; but Castiel only nodded, he did not fly upward to heaven.

It was night, and quite still in the great town. Here they remained, and the angel hovered over a small, narrow street, in which lay a large heap of straw, ashes, and sweepings from the houses of people who had removed. There lay fragments of plates, pieces of plaster, rags, old hats, and other rubbish not pleasant to see. Amidst all this confusion, Castiel pointed to the pieces of a broken flower-pot, and to a lump of earth which had fallen out of it. The earth had been kept from falling to pieces by the roots of a withered field-flower, which had been thrown amongst the rubbish.

“We will take this with us,” he said, “I will tell you why as we fly along.”

And as they flew the angel related the history.

“Down in that narrow lane, in a low cellar, lived a poor sick boy; he had been afflicted from his childhood, and even in his best days he could just manage to walk up and down the room on crutches once or twice, but no more. During some days in summer, the sunbeams would lie on the floor of the cellar for about half an hour. In this spot the poor sick boy would sit warming himself in the sunshine, and watching the red blood through his delicate fingers as he held them before his face. Then he would say he had been out, yet he knew nothing of the green forest in its spring verdure, till a neighbor’s son brought him a green bough from a beech-tree. This he would place over his head, and fancy that he was in the beech-wood while the sun shone, and the birds carolled gayly. One spring day the neighbor’s boy brought him some field-flowers, and among them was one to which the root still adhered. This he carefully planted in a flower-pot, and placed in a window-seat near his bed. And the flower had been planted by a fortunate hand, for it grew, put forth fresh shoots, and blossomed every year. It became a splendid flower-garden to the sick boy, and his little treasure upon earth. He watered it, and cherished it, and took care it should have the benefit of every sunbeam that found its way into the cellar, from the earliest morning ray to the evening sunset. The flower entwined itself even in his dreams—for him it bloomed, for him spread its perfume. And it gladdened his eyes, and to the flower he turned, even in death, when the Lord called him. He has been one year with God. During that time the flower has stood in the window, withered and forgotten, till at length cast out among the sweepings into the street, on the day of the lodgers’ removal. And this poor flower, withered and faded as it is, we have added to our nosegay, because it gave more real joy than the most beautiful flower in the garden of a queen.”

“But how do you know all this?” asked Dean whom the angel was carrying to heaven.

“I know it,” said Castiel, “because I myself was the poor sick boy who walked upon crutches, and I know my own flower well.”

Every day at the playground in kindergarten, when Dean and Sammy were playing in the sandbox drawing the strangest things, or running around pretending to hunt terrible monsters in order to protect their family, the brothers noticed another boy sitting in the grass.

He was tiny and thin and pale, and he refused to play with anyone. He'd just sit there and watch the other children play. Sometimes he looked a bit sad when he saw the other kids laughing, but most of the time he was just sitting there under a tree, slowly running his little fingers through the grass, looking satisfied.

Sometimes Dean noticed how the boy was watching them on their hunt, and when they pretended to kill yet another demon he winced a tiny bit, grabbing the grass he was just stroking so gently. Then he looked back at the green again, started muttering to himself and continued to stroke the blades of grass.

"Come with me, Sammy! I think I've found a ghost!" Dean said one day to his little brother, then he ran towards the unknown boy, looking at him with a stern look on his face.

He stopped in front of the boy abruptly, Sammy bumping into his back.

"Hey, you!" Dean said to the dark-haired boy, "Are you a ghost?"

The boy addressed looked up shortly, and Dean noticed his eyes, blue as the sky.

"No, he's not a ghost, Sammy," Dean stated. "He seems alive. No ghost has such eyes! Look!"

Dean bent down, Sammy following him, even though he was so small that he would have been able to look into the boy's eyes standing straight.

"You're right, Dean!" Sammy replied.

"Get the salt, Sammy! We will find out what he is!" Dean commanded, and waited for his little brother to come back with a handful of sand, pretending it to be salt.

"Here, Dean!" Sammy gave his brother the sand, even though most of it had already run through his tiny fingers and fallen on the ground.

"Well done..." Dean replied, satisfied with his little brothers skills. After all Dean was the best hunter teacher in the whole kindergarten!

"This is salt," he explained to the strange kid. "If you're good, nothing will happen to you! But if you're a bad guy," Sammy gasped, "you will turn into bubbles and fly into the air, and then you're going to heaven!"

"Ooh!" Sammy said, as he took a step back, admiring Dean's awesome speech.

"Don't be scared, Sammy, I got this!" Dean assured his brother, before he turned quiet and slowly let what was left of the sand pour over the boy's hand, while the blue-eyed suspect just silently watched.

"Dean! Nothing is happening! What does that mean?" Sammy asked while he jumped closer to the two boys again.

"Oh, I know!" he continued. "If you're not a bad guy, then you must be an angel, right? Dean, he's an angel! That's so cool!"

Sammy suddenly got all excited and took the boys hand that had just been sprinkled with fake-salt.

"I'm Sammy, but you can call me Sam!" he said and shook his hand violently. "And this is my cool brother Dean. What's your name?"

The other boy looked at Sammy first, then at Dean, and while his eyes rested on the older brother's face, he said "Angel..."

"Yes, we know now that you're an angel, but we want to know your name!" Dean said, grabbed the "angel"'s other hand and together with his brother pulled the boy up on his feet. He was fairly smaller than Dean, but still had to look up a bit.

"Castiel..." he said, still staring into Dean's eyes. "Dean..."

"You're weird," Dean stated, then made a thinking face for a moment. "I like you!" he blurted out, then the brothers dragged him to the sandbox.

"You are a good guy, so you have to help us kill monsters. And we will teach you here, because this place is full of salt and so we're safe here," Dean explained.

Castiel let himself drop to the ground as Dean and Sam moved around in the box and explained to him everything they knew. When they were done they wanted to hunt another monster that was seemingly near the tree Castiel had been sitting under before.

"There it is, Dean!" Sammy said, before Dean turned into the direction his little brother was pointed at and swung his plastic shovel like Thor did with his mighty hammer.

"You got him, Dean! You're so cool!" Sammy applauded cheerily, while Dean grinned his victorious grin. Castiel instead had that sad puppy look on his face, and when Dean asked him what was wrong, Castiel replied, "Heaven."

Then he went back to the sandbox, grabbed some of the "salt" and when he came back he sprinkled it over the spot where Dean had just fought his most glorious battle.

"Oh yes! Sending them to heaven is a nice idea! Right, Dean?" Sammy blurted out and clapped Castiel on the shoulder approvingly.

"Watch out, Cas, your angel is showing!" Dean said and laughed as Castiel turned around and started looking for something.

"What are you doing, Cas? Are you looking for something?" Dean asked and looked around as well, trying to figure out what Cas was looking for.

"My angel..." Castiel said while he continued his search.

The brothers bursted into laughter at the fact that Castiel did not understand the phrase's actual meaning. When Cas saw Dean laugh, he smiled as well, even though he didn't know what was so funny about that.

They continued their hunting trip, and during nap time Dean made sure that neither Sammy or Cas got hurt, holding their hands in their sleep. As they slowly woke up again from the noises the other children were making, Dean was awake really fast and wanted to scare his brother and his new friend, so he threw his black blanket over himself, spread his arms and yelled, "I'm Batman!"

Sammy was in shock for a moment, but then he laughed, while Cas was simply confused and said: "But you're Dean."

Once again the brothers started laughing and the three children happily continued their fight against evil outside, fighting terrifying monsters, and sending their pour souls to heaven. They were having a lot of fun, and Castiel also laughed once when a little girl named Ruby wanted to feed Sammy her french fries and Sammy tried to escape. Dean had told him that he would try to safe him, but his little brother had to learn how to fight girls by himself. They were not as evil as monsters, but surely as shifty as demons. Castiel actually didn't know what Dean was talking about, but he nodded approvingly.

After Ruby got tired of trying to feed little Sammy, she got angry and punched him, but another girl with blond, curly hair saw it and hugged "poor, little Sammy" in a motherly routine, even though she was just like Sammy only 3 years old.

With Sammy being busy, Dean decided to take a break from hunting and spend some quality time with Cas, who was supposed to sit on a swing while Dean was pushing him.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Dean said after a while.

Cas hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "The other children don't... like me. They say I'm weird."

"They are stupid!" Dean said and stopped the swing. He positioned himself in front of Castiel, staring into his eyes, and continued, "See, I like you, and Sammy likes you, too! You are nice! And you're an angel! That's cool!"

"You think... I'm nice?" Castiel asked, his bright blue eyes wide open.

"Boy, you should be happier about me calling you "cool" than "nice"! But yes, I... think you're nice!" Dean said.

Castiel smiled again, but it was a wider smile than Dean had ever seen it on his face.

"I like you, too!" The little angel said, jumped off the swing and landed on his feet, his face close to Dean's. Then Castiel full-on kissed Dean on the lips.

The little hunter jumped back in surprise, and started blurting out, "What are you doing?!"

"But I..." The happy expression on Castiel's face changed to an expression of insecurity. "That's... what people do when they... like each other. That's what my dad said."

"What? NO! Boys don't do that, that's weird!" Dean's face turned bright red, out of anger, he assumed. He wanted to continue being angry, but Castiel just turned around and left. He watched the boy slowly walking towards the big tree again, under which he sat down and started caressing the grass again while he was mumbling to himself.

"Dean! Dean! What happened?" Sammy shouted as he came running from where he had just been playing with Jessica.

"N...nothing...," Dean replied, but threw a look at Castiel again. Unlike before, he didn't watch the other children play, but just looked at the grass.

"Then why did you start shouting? Go to him and apologize!" Sammy commanded, and crossed his tiny arms in front of his torso, a seemingly angry expression on his face. "I will not play with you until you do!"

"Wha... Sammy!"

"No! Apologize!"

"FINE!" Dean gave in and muttered a silent "Screw you" under his breath. He turned around and walked towards Castiel and his big tree.

"Sorry," he said as he had reached him, but Castiel didn't react to his apology.

"I'm sorry?" Dean tried again, but got nothing in return.

"I'm apologizing, you prick! ... Oh, no! Don't tell anyone I said that, I didn't mean it! My dad would be so mad at me!"

Since Castiel still did not react, Dean wanted to give up and turned around, but then he noticed that the little angel was actually weeping silently.

"Cas! Why are you crying?" Dean shouted, not knowing what to do now. When Cas did once again not answer, he turned around for help and saw Sammy gesturing that Dean should just hug him. Dean knew that this had always helped with Sammy.

So he kneeled down, closed in on Cas and hesitantly laid his arms around the shaking little boy.

"Go away, I'm weird!" Castiel cried, trying to free himself from the embrace, but Dean held on tight.

"I already told you, I didn't mean it!" Dean said angrily. "We're friends, right? And you're an angel! And you see, angels are different from normal people, and they do different things, and I guess that's okay... I guess. Okay?"

While Dean was talking, Castiel's resistance shrank and soon stopped completely. "Okay...," he replied.

"Okay!" Dean said and wanted to let go again, so he stood up, but the two tiny arms shot forward and grabbed Dean's shirt. While Dean was interrupted in his movement, he lost control over his own body and fell right onto his friend. Cas fell on his back and so they both lay on the ground and while Dean started laughing, Castiel started giggling as well.

After some time Castiel said, "You and Sam are my best friends. I like you both. But I like you more."

"O-okay... I guess I'm okay with that," Dean replied. "Just promise me not to kiss Sammy, too, okay?" He grinned.

"I promise, Dean," Cas said, smiling, as they both got on their feet again.

"Castiel, dear!"

As they turned around, their teacher approached to them and said, "Your daddy just came to pick you up!"

Castiel patted the dirt off his clothes and ran towards the gate where his father was waiting.

"Daddy!" he said and he ran into his father's arms and laughed.

"Hey, little lamb!" his father replied as he lifted his son off the ground before he put him down again. "How was your day?" The teacher noticed how worried he was, since Castiel had not had any friends up to this day and didn't like kindergarten at all.

"I have friends now, daddy!" Castiel said cheerily as he pointed back at Dean and his brother, who had been walking towards them slowly to say good-bye to their new friend before he went home.

"That... that is good! That is very good!" Castiel's dad suppressed a happy tear as he looked at the two boys who managed the impossible.

"So, you're Castiel's daddy? Then you must be God! This is so cool, Dean!" Sammy concluded and tugged at Dean's shirt continuously.

"Erm, no... I'm not God," Castiel's father said and laughed, actually really confused. "You can call me Chuck. And now we gotta go, little lamb. Tell your friends good-bye, you will meet them again tomorrow."

"Okay..." Castiel said, the smile fading from his face. "Bye..."

"See you tomorrow, angel!" Dean said, grinning.

"And you gotta sleep a lot! Mom says if you don't sleep enough, then you're a bad hunter!" Sammy said, holding Dean's hand.

Chuck took Castiel by the hand as well, while his son replied a loud okay, and together with his dad the little angel went to their car.