fromfryingpantofire | For your love, I'm sorry/For your pain, don't worry

Entry tags:

castiel,
rp

For your love, I'm sorry/For your pain, don't worry

It had been happening little by little. Almost small enough increments not to be noticed, but Sam and Dean were both masters of noticing little details. It was the line between life and death far too many times.

(At least when they wanted to. Both were entirely too good at not seeing the forest for the trees when it was something they didn't want to know about.)

It had been slow, but steady. Sam and Dean had their hunts and Castiel had his job and his own life separate from their own. Especially once he got a boyfriend. It was only natural that they didn't get a chance to meet up as often.

But it wasn't just that. More and more often, Castiel begged off from meeting up or simply didn't answer voicemails left for him. And when they were able to get together, Castiel was quieter and obviously pulling away. It was worrying and Sam and Dean sat down and talked about it in the bunker, even pulling Kevin into it. They all agreed that, even if there wasn't a problem, they needed to at least check up on the former angel.

Which was why Sam was outside the gas station in one of the cars from the Men of Letters' garage, waiting on Castiel to finish his shift. This was something that was better talked about in person, anyway.

((Content warning for discussions of abuse and abusive relationships. Also BDSM done wrong.))

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Jason had probably thought that Castiel was crazy, honestly. And he hadn't cared.

Sam finishes treating the cuts that need it, putting some gauze over the freshest, at least for the night. He steps forward, rubbing his hands over Castiel's shoulders. "He may have meant well. But his artistic interpretation leaves a lot to be desired." The 'wings' were crude and made a mockery of what Castiel had been. Still was, as far as Sam is concerned. "I'm going to leave the room so you can use the bathroom. I'm sure you don't want an audience for that." And Sam's sure he doesn't want to see it, either. Really not his kink. "I'll have to treat the tears in your ass when we have a chance, but it's mostly just going to be keeping the area as clean as we can."

Jason had considered Castiel crazy. Castiel doesn't know this, and is therefore blissfully unaware that this was precisely why Jason had wanted to keep him around - thinking Castiel someone with just a few screws loose, clingy and dependent but not dangerous, and not illegal. How else would he be so sheltered, so clueless about so many things, so sweetly submissive when pressured just right. How desperate to please and not be sent away.

The cruelest punishments had been when Jason had started packing a bag for Castiel, silently threatening to get rid of him.

Castiel had begged on those days, too painfully reminded of being tossed out of Heaven, tossed out of the bunker, too.

Now, he just nods, too ashamed to apologize once more for putting this all on Sam, making Sam have to deal with him. They may be friends and he's still more than willing to die for the Winchesters, but he never intended to involve them in the failure of his sex life and relationship like this.

He wonders if Dean will consider him a baby again, an infant unable to take care of itself. Wonders if Sam might not secretly think the same, now that his thoughts are safe from Castiel's prying gaze.

"Are you going to be far?"

And he loathes himself for having to ask this question for his own comfort. Even worse...

"Are you going to lock me in?"

Sam picks up one of the towels, wrapping it around his waist. The questions make him turn back, though, shaking his head. "No, I'm not going far. Only just outside the door. And the door won't be locked, just closed. Just call out when you want me to come back in."

He takes a moment, then reaches up to place his hand against the back of Castiel's neck. "It'll be all right. Not tonight and maybe not for a while, but you'll get there. You have me and Dean and Kevin. We're here for you, all right?"

He almost forgot about Kevin, and suddenly he feels all the more ashamed. To have Dean and Sam see him like this is bad enough. He's not sure he can take the judgement of a prophet on top of that. But what other choice does he have?

Well.

He can always call Jason.

The thought is almost as comforting as it is terrifying.

"I'll make it up to you. I swear, Sam, I will."

"Cas." Sam reaches out, taking one of Castiel's hands to give it a squeeze. "There's nothing to make up to me. To any of us. You're family." Which, for Sam, is all that's necessary. All that's important. "I'm just going to be outside. Take as much time as you need in here, all right? I'm not going anywhere until you're ready to come with me."

Castiel merely nods. He doesn't move again until Sam has left, the door clicking shut behind him. Though it remains unlocked, the sound is terrifying.

He's been locked in the bathroom before. In the basement, too. In the cupcoard, once or twice. When he failed to learn properly. Jason was always fair in that he made sure to punish all transgressions, and Castiel always supposed he just hadn't gotten good enough to earn rewards yet.

He's not so sure about that anymore. He's not so sure about anything anymore.

So Castiel takes his time, trying to quell the rising panic. Sometimes he treads towards the door, presses his ear to it. Waits until he hears Sam shifting outside, or clearing his throat, or talking in low voices with Dean or Kevin.

It would be comforting if he didn't remember being locked up in the bathroom, too cold water uncomfortably filling him and causing cramps, Jason banging on the door to get his attention and make sure his boy would be as clean as he wanted him to be.

Castiel asked never to do that again, earning him three days tied to the cot in the basement, spreader bar holding him open for use, but unable to do anything but lie there and wait for something to happen.

Jason petted his hair afterwards, and said Cas was so close to doing well, so close to making Jason proud.

Castiel leaves the bathroom half an hour after Sam left him to his own devices. "I#m ready now," he says. And wonders if that almost makes Sam proud, too.

Sam had left for a moment, but only because he needed to use the bathroom as well. Which meant he left Dean on the door, though he's back before Castiel opens the door to the bathroom.

When the door opens, Sam turns and smiles, offering his arm to Castiel. "All right. Come on, let's get you to bed. You could probably use some sleep."

Castiel doesn't speak as Sam leads him to his room, and the fallen angel feels somewhat guilty again, at intruding here. He knows that this is different than a motel bed - this bed is Sam's, and Castiel shouldn't impose by sleeping on it. And yet he can't help but want to remain, and doesn't offer to sleep in his own room after all.

It's strange to slip under the covers dressed, and knowing that he's not supposed to part his legs. It's strange that all he can do to recreate the intimacy he associates with the bedroom is to curl his fingers into the sleeve of Sam's shirt, and lay just close enough to feel his body heat without touching him.

Sleep doesn't come easily to Castiel. But it comes, and if he dreams, then it's in stillness and silence, with only a hint of wetness on his cheeks the next morning.

By the time morning comes, their sleeping positions have shifted somewhat. It's almost entirely subconscious on Sam's part, but he's been feeling protective of Castiel for days now. Ever since seeing him at the convenience store. So it's not much of a surprise, to him, to wake up with his nose buried in the soft hair at the back of Castiel's head, on his side and curled around the other man's body. Spooning him, though thankfully, his dick hadn't decided to get in on the act. No morning wood for Castiel to misinterpret. It might be bad enough, waking up like this.

And yet, Sam can't make himself feel bad about the way that he's woken up. Because a part of him has wanted this for years and he can only hope at the moment that it makes Castiel feel safe rather than anything else.

He closes his eyes, feigning sleep for a little longer. So that this can be accidental rather than leaving them sleeping this way on purpose.

Castiel wakes slowly.

That doesn't happen too often - he's used to having to get up early, preparing breakfast, going to work. It's become a routine. He can't usually afford to sleep in, to be lazy. But exhaustion has a tight grip on him now, and the bed is warm, so warm.

Waking up brings with it the sensation of an arm, and half-asleep Castiel burrows into the body behind, muttering something unintelligible but apparently content. He almost drifts off again, feeling safe, feeling protected, feeling warm.

But then his waking mind catches up with his body, and he tenses. Opens his eyes and stares straight ahead into darkness, not yet comprehending that he sees an unfamiliar bedroom.

"Jason?" he whispers, tension making his body stiff and his voice shake. But then he exhales, the tension bleeds out from his muscles again and he wraps his fingers around the arm around his middle. This isn't Jason's bedroom. "Sam..." he whispers instead, remembering where he is.

With Sam, who takes care of him but won't sleep with him.

At some point, Sam goes from feigning sleep to dozing back off again. Not deeply, though, which is why he starts waking up when Castiel tenses against his chest.

He makes a tired sound against Castiel's hair, glad that Castiel comes to realize he's safe before Sam has to be awake enough to confirm it. "Hey, Cas," he murmurs, voice raspy from sleep. He tightens his arm, giving Castiel that little bit more comfort. "You sleep okay?"

It's not that he doesn't want to have sex with Castiel. It's that, right now, it would definitely not be a great idea.

Castiel is currently incapable of discerning between right and wrong, good and bad. Doing nice things and sex have become entangled in his mind - he'll learn to separate them again, learn to regain the perspective he used to have and should have. Right now, he's not sure what to make of their situation, but doesn't feel their position is one he should leave. Instead, he idly picks at the blanket wrapped around them.

"I slept."

"That's good. I could feel you were having some trouble when we laid down, but I'm glad you were able to sleep in the end." And he really does need to pull away, to stop wanting to bury his face in the soft, short hairs at the back of Castiel's neck. Instead, he pulls away and rolls onto his back. "Are you hungry? Dean's probably up and making something."

"I don't eat breakfast."

He's supposed to stay lean. Castiel usually eats salad for lunch, and then a light dinner. He also usually eats what Jason picks, no questions asked. But he doesn't feel like explaining that right now, though he knows he should. He sits up instead, looks over at Sam, and is utterly unaware of his bedhead.

The bedhead gets a fond smile from Sam, his fingers curling into the comforter so that he doesn't reach out and try to smooth it down. As much as he'd love to. "Is that personal preference or something that Jason's instilled in you?" Sam asks. "Because...I mean, if you'd rather not eat breakfast, that's fine. But it's pretty early and it's going to be a while until lunch."

This seems to give pause, but this time he doesn't look guilty - merely perplexed, as if the thought hadn't occured to him. Before meeting Jason, he hasn't been human long enough to develop true habits and preferences of his own, so the truth is very simply that in this case... he doesn't quite know. Can't recall if a breakfast, no matter how small or little, was something he needed and wanted, if skipping it was something he had to force himself into, as opposed to preferring it that way. So he shrugs, nose wrinkling a little. It's a small hint of the old Castiel, his immediate impatience upon discovering anything at all that he can't figure out immediately. Not self-loathing, but a vast and ancient mind displeased with finding a question it can't answer.

Castiel is impatient and quick to annoy, even when the source is himself. Naturally, if he was fully himself again, he'd be more quick to blame Sam for asking stupid questions he doesn't happen to know the answer to.

Sam can't help but feel a little hopeful with that impatience. It means that the old Castiel, the one that would have snapped at him, isn't entirely gone. Little flashes like this are good.

"Tell you what," Sam says after a moment. "I'll let you borrow some shorts and a shirt and we can go get some coffee, at least. Maybe an apple. After that, I can help you figure out if you're hungry or not and we'll go from there."

It's an easy decision to start with, letting Sam do most of it. "Later, we'll go to Wal-Mart and get you some more clothes, too." Because Castiel's going to need more than what they have, at least for the time being while he heals.

And it works. Castiel doesn't feel as if he's making a decision, though that's exactly what he does as he nods affirmative. The plan sounds good to him. Very logical, very simple, and very clear. He can handle those structures right now, and he's more than glad that Sam is giving him a red thread to follow, even if he doesn't realize that it was his own choice to pick up that thread.

"Coffee makes me feel less sluggish", he admits.

"Yeah, that tends to happen," Sam agrees, smiling slightly as he pushes himself out of bed. "Coffee is one of those things that we get through a lot of and is the first thing that's going in the morning, no matter what else we're doing. Even when we're on the road."

Which lets Castiel know that it's something normal for the household, that he's not putting anybody out by wanting coffee. And that it's normal to want it. Which Sam knows is something that's going to take time, getting Castiel to understand what's normal for them.

He goes to the drawers, opening them up to find something of his own that Castiel would be able to wear. He offers them over. "You want to use the bathroom first?"

The first clue is the fact that Castiel looks at Sam is though he just asked a very silly question. The fallen angel waits a moment, as if expecting more to come, then shakes his head finally. "I'm fine."

It might just be that he's dehydrated to the point where his bladder didn't quite fill up.

Or, more likely, that whether it's for washing up, for relieving himself or for any other reason, he adheres to commands and shame.

Right. It's going to take time for Sam to get used to the way that he needs to handle things right now. Sam narrows his eyes in thought before nodding and grabbing his clothes. "I won't be long." He'd leave the shower until later. It's not necessary after last night, after all. "After breakfast, I'll give you a tour of the bunker. We don't have a hunt on the radar at the moment, so getting you settled and healed is going to be my priority." Letting Castiel know what's happening so that it's not a surprise.

He picks up on the hint subconsciously more than anything, nodding to show he understood. "What would you like me to do?" Castiel needs a purpose, has always needed one. Hammer, ally, leader, enemy, toy. It's always been something, and he feels lost with nothing to do. It's not just another offer to serve Sam in bed - but to be of use again in general.

Which, thankfully, IS something that Sam's been thinking about. "The Men of Letters left one hell of a library here. I've been working on figuring out what's in there and getting it organized, so it would be great if you could help me out with that. And Kevin, for all that he's good at it, actually really hates doing research." Or, more specifically, research that he didn't see much use in. Which was a lot of what Sam and Dean did. "Don't get me wrong, Kevin's great in a lot of other capacities, but he's not great at being left in the library."

Castiel is good at research. More importantly, perhaps, he likes research. So when Sam pitches the suggestion, he sits up a little, as if tentatively accepting something that feels like a reward. But he knows he needs to be careful. It's a task, a purpose, not a gesture of good will. He'll do well, and then maybe he will be praised.

"I can do that. I would like to do that."

It's the most lively Sam's seen Castiel since they got him back, which he's taking as a good sign. A sign that the research is something that he'd enjoy, which is what Sam wants. Just something to give him a chance to help get himself back together. "Good. It was going to be part of the tour anyway, but we'll come back for something more in depth after we do the shopping." Get Castiel some comfortable clothes. "Once we've done that, I can leave you to familiarizing yourself with the books?"

He knows Dean and he knows his brother is champing at the bit to get back to Jason and to kick his ass. Sam's the same way. More than that, they need to get any of Castiel's money out from under the guy's thumb, though Sam figures that's not likely now. Once Jason realized that Castiel's gone, the bank account was probably closed out. Something they'll deal with later.

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