Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the beginning of July when I met Cas for the first time. It was a nice day, if not oddly cool for being the middle of summer. I was on campus—Crestview Community College—working out my revised (once again) schedule, with one of the administrators. My boss was decidedly less than happy about the number of texts I hadn't answered, so I wound up having to cut a couple of the classes that I had actually been looking forward to taking.

I know, I know. Why do it? Why not... I don't know, try to reason with my boss or maybe just move the classes around? Well, there is no reasoning with my boss and I was already on thin ice... so it was easier to just drop the classes now and take an extra semester to make up for it. I needed the money far more than I would care to admit, and the job did pay really, really well... it sucked, but you do what you have to in order to get by.

It was as I was leaving the administrators office that I bumped into him, and I kind of mean that literally. I was lost in my head, trying to work out how much my check was going to be for the week, what I needed to buy, what would go towards bills and food... and I sort of walked right into the guy. Being smaller, I stumbled back and landed, quite painfully, on my butt. He spilled a bit of coffee and dropped the book that was in his hand, but was otherwise alright.

It was with a heavy sigh that I readjusted my glasses, grabbing up the book as I stood. I was okay, other than a little annoyed, but it was my fault. “My apologies/I'm sorry--” We spoke at the same time and I couldn't help but let out a laugh, a small smile on my face.

“No, no. I'm sorry, sir. I should have been paying attention to where I was walking.” I tried to be as polite as possible, despite my souring mood.

The man smiled back at me, his own much wider than mine as he took back his book. “I could say the same thing. I had my nose buried in this.” With a nod to the book, he laughed, sliding it under the arm carrying his coffee. “Are you a student here?”

For a long few seconds, I just stared at him, blinking in what I guess I could describe as shock. People usually didn't attempt to initiate actual conversation with me. It was usually a quick 'hey' and they'd keep on with their business. “Oh—I, uhm, yeah. Only part time though. I have classes some weekday evenings. Do.. you work here?”

He nodded. “I'm a counselor actually. I'm surprised we haven't met before. I usually meet every student at least once.”

“Oh, I ah.. I try to avoid seeing school counselors.” I fidgeted, chewing on my bottom lip. It was the truth, but now that I was staring one of them in the face, I kind of wanted to avoid offending him or something. “N-not that I have a problem with any of you, I just don't—I have—uhm..” Oh man, way to go, Chris. Fucking up the first real conversation you'd had outside of work in forever.

The man didn't seem irritated though. He... actually looked like he understood what I was trying to say. “I understand completely. It's not an easy experience for some.” I nodded, sighing. “I am running a bit late for a meeting, but I'd like to give you my card...” With his free hand, he dug around in the pocket of his slacks, tongue sticking out a bit in concentration. “Aha! Here we are.” The card was held out to me, though I simply stared at it. “I know how it is, talking to someone like me, especially for the first time, but if you ever need me...”

I was hesitant, but in the end, I took the card, quickly glancing over it. Castiel Winchester. I smiled once again, tilting my head. Interesting name. “It's nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester. I'm.. Chris.” Well, Chris was my middle name, but no one ever called me by my first.

His eyes lit up and he beamed at me as I spoke my name. “It is nice to meet you as well. Hopefully, I'll see you again soon. Have a good evening, Chris.”

Then he was gone, hurrying past me and towards the very building I had only just come out of. I glanced over his card one more time before shoving it into my pocket. It wasn't likely that I would ever contact him, but it was still a nice gesture.

My phone began to beep loudly and I took it out of my pocket to check—an alarm. Sighing, I started walking again, albeit faster than before. I had to get to work.

ooOoo

Oddly enough (at least to me), the second time that I ran into Mr. Winchester was exactly one week later. Another Friday, though this time I was on my way home from work. It had been a morning shift, since they just wanted me there to help load up the trucks for a run and I was looking forward to finally getting a bit of a break. The boss told me that I wasn't tagging along so that they could give the new guys a chance to 'show their stuff'.

I wasn't going to complain though. At all. It meant that I had the entire afternoon and evening to myself to relax and get other work done.

The cafe that I liked to go to (because it was damn near impossible to get any work done at the apartment), was a cute little place, owned and run by an older woman and her husband. Their kids, four teenagers, helped out when they weren't in school or at their own job. The place was never too busy, and they had the absolute best carrot cake that I had ever tasted. I liked to try and pop in at least once a week if I could manage it.

That's where I was, sitting at the corner table in front of the large glass display window, nursing a cup of iced berry tea in one hand while a plate of half eaten cake sat on the table as I tapped away at my laptop. I still had a couple of months before classes started (I'd waited too long to sign up for summer courses), so I was mostly killing time, doing research and working on things that would help me for class... well, and typing up my schedule for the week.

Anyhow, as I was saying, Mr. Winchester. Well, it was just as I was getting to the bottom of my second cup of tea that the bell to the front door jingled. As I always did, I looked up and surprise surprise, there he was, dressed similarly to how he was the previous week—nice slacks, a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, though he was lacking a tie this time around.

I didn't allow my eyes to linger on him, not wanting to attract his attention, and instead turned back to my cake, which still needed to be eaten. As luck would have it, he noticed me anyway and I knew what he wanted without even having to look up. “May I?” He motioned to the seat across from mine and not knowing how to reply without sounding rude, as I really wanted to tell him 'no', I simply shrugged.

This was seen as a 'yes' in his mind and he sat down before me. Figuring it would be rude to continue working now that I had... company, I closed my laptop, sliding it down and into my bag. “I must say, I didn't think that I'd be seeing you again so soon.” Mr. Winchester was smiling as he spoke, sipping his own cup of something or another. I didn't really know what to say, not that I ever do, so I just offered a small smile. “I'm sorry if I've disrupted your work.”

“Oh, no, uhm—no, you didn't. I wasn't really working on anything important. Just... passing the time.” I poked at the remainder of my cake with the fork. “Sorry if I don't seem very... welcoming, I guess?” I sighed, shoulders drooping. “I'm not very good at talking to people.”

Mr. Winchester continued to smile, tilting his head. “I thought I just made you nervous.” Which wasn't entirely untrue, but hell, everyone made me nervous to some degree. “Do you come here often?”

I nodded, nibbling at my cake. “About once a week... it depends on work.” I gave a small shrug. I'd love to be able to come by more often, but that just meant I'd be eating way too much carrot cake. “How about you?”

“Oh, I come a few times a week at least, though I don't stay. It's usually only to pick up something for my husband.” His tone of voice changed as he said that—he was testing me, seeing how I would react to him being gay. I didn't give him a reaction though—no shocked look, no quiet gasp. I just stared, patiently waiting for him to continue. “He goes on and on about the desserts here and always wants to try whatever Mrs. Evans can come up with.”

At that, I had to smile. “I do that. I mean, try everything. She calls me her personal guinea pig because I'll try anything at least once.” A sad but true fact, especially when it came to food. I freaking love food. “Though I've taken a particular liking to the carrot cake.”

“You like sweets?”

I nodded, dipping my finger into the icing. “Very much. I can only enjoy them here, though. My roommate manages to sniff out and eat anything I bring home.” Unless I opted to hide it in my room, but that wasn't something I liked to do. Darren, my roommate, had particularly bad habits that attracted insects... and I didn't want to make it worse. “Do you like them?”

Mr. Winchester hmm'd, thinking it over. “Occasionally. I like tarts, tortes, parfaits. Anything with fruit. Sam, my husband, loves everything. Cakes, cookies, ice cream, muffins. But only homemade.” I nodded, understanding completely. Homemade food always tasted better. “He's quite the chef actually.”

Chef, huh? If he worked professionally, I'd probably met him once or twice, at least in passing. Bellfor worked with a lot of different restaurants in the area. “Can you cook?”

“Not at all.” He said with a grin, the fact not bothering him in the least. “I'm not allowed to try anymore either—not after Sam realized that I have the apparently amazing ability to burn water.” Burn... water... how the f-- I stared, blinking, my brow furrowed in confusion as I tried to figure out how in the world someone managed to burn water. “We haven't figured out how I managed it, but I did. It, well... I was boiling water for tea... and it caught on fire.”

Okay, I laughed. I couldn't help it. I tried to keep it low, not wanting to upset him, but the giggles kept rolling out. Never in my life had I met someone that could set water on fire while making tea of all things.

Thankfully, he didn't mind my laughter. “Yes, yes. Laugh away.” He just smiled and I did manage to stop after a few more moments, my cheeks tinted in embarrassment. “What about you? How are your cooking skills?”

Head tilted, I grinned. “I can work the microwave and make anything that comes with straight forward instructions.” I couldn't just cook something. I had to have some form of simple instructions to follow or it turned out... Well, not even Darren could stomach my attempts at being creative and he eats McDonalds on an almost daily basis. I could appreciate food. Hell, as I said, I love food, but making it? Naaaah.

We wound up sitting there for quite a while, which was weird as shit... but also kind of cool. We sat and talked, chatting about whatever topic happened to come up—from food to work to school and everything in between. He seemed genuinely interested in my life and I honestly couldn't wrap my head around that.

It wasn't until the sun started to go down that I realized we'd been sitting there for well over three hours. I couldn't remember the last time I had such a good time talking with someone. It was... really nice, actually, but all good things must come to an end.

“I should head home..” It came out more as a mumble than anything, mostly because I really didn't want to. Darren was going out with Emily, his girlfriend, though which meant I needed to try and clean up around the apartment while I had the chance. The smell was starting to make me sick. “I—I uhm.. I had a nice time talking with you, Mr. Winchester.”

“And I, you, Chris. It's getting late though, would you like me to give you a ride?” I bit my lower lip, fidgeting nervously. It would be nice. I mean, the walk home was an hour, at least, and the last bus to come near the cafe was at six, and it was eight...

The issue was that he was a stranger. Well, I guess not a stranger but I also didn't really know him. We'd met twice and spent a fair amount of time talking though.. and he did work at he college, so he couldn't be a bad person. Of course, being who I am, it felt like every fiber of my being was screaming out 'HELL NO' at the very idea, but I also know that I'm just an anxious person. So, taking a deep breath, I passed off those thoughts as me just being paranoid, and nodded.

“That w-would be lovely, sir, b-but only if you're sure. I'd hate to inconvenience you...”

“It's not an inconvenience at all. I promise. You'll just need to point me in the right direction.” He smiled and I nodded again. We stood and I pushed in my chair and fixed up the table décor before slinging my bag over my shoulder and bringing my dishes up to the counter. Mrs. Evans took them with a bright smile and a thanks, and I slid her a tip as well. I always tipped them at least a five—they definitely deserved it.

Mr. Winchester returned his dishes as well and I hesitantly followed him out of the cafe, one hand gripping the strap of my bag. His car was... not anything like what I would have expected a guy like him to drive. It was old, very old, and beige in colour. The kind of car my sister would have dubbed a 'pimp-mobile'. It didn't matter to me, I mean. So long as it gets you where you need to be, it's a good car in my opinion.

Taking a deep, deep breath, I steadied myself and climbed into the passenger's seat, buckling up and setting my bag on my lap. We didn't talk quite as much during the ride as we had in the cafe, with me pointing and giving directions, but it was a nice ride. Short, but nice.

When we pulled up to the apartment complex, I looked out at the building and let out a heavy sigh. Mr. Winchester gave me a look of what I could only think was concern, but I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. It was one thing to talk about mundane topics like food and work and whatnot with a near-stranger but I wasn't going to talk about my personal life. “Thank you so much for this, Mr. Winchester. I really do appreciate it.”

“It was no problem at all, Chris. I'm glad that I was able to be of some assistance.” He smiled now, though was still giving me that look. “If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call.” Oh, yeah, I still had his card... somewhere.

I nodded, though tensed up considerably as I saw him moving his hand, aiming to put it on my shoulder. It was a simple gesture, one typically of comfort, but—thankfully, he noticed my reaction and without me having to say anything, pulled his hand back, his smile turning sad, apologetic.

“I-I-I'm sorry—I didn't—I--” I couldn't. I just couldn't.

I stumbled out of the car and fucking bolted towards the building. I didn't look back. I couldn't look back. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the look he'd be sure to give me. One that was of pity.. pity mixed with confusion... and disgust. It was the look everyone gave me when they started to realize that something about me was 'off'.

Chapter Text

After the evening at the cafe, I didn't see Mr. Winchester again for... almost a month. It was a Thursday, in the first week of August and I was on a job. We were hosting what was supposed to be a 'birthday party' for some rich family—the Miltons I believe were their name. Their youngest, Samandriel, was turning twenty-one and they wanted to... what had my boss said... 'mark the occasion'? It was apparently some huge deal for them, which was kinda weird to me but whatever. To each their own.

I had expected with a crew of our size, that it would be pretty easy, and I'd be able to just stick to washing dishes and serving food, but I wasn't that lucky. Three, yeah, not one or two, but three of our guys 'called in sick', which meant that all of their jobs had to be covered. Unfortunately for me, instead of spreading out the work evenly, my boss decided it would be the perfect chance for me to 'prove myself', and I was dubbed the 'Host' of the party. Given the option, I'd never, never fucking ever choose the position of host myself, even if they offered me a raise.

It was a job that was not meant for one man to do, despite it always being given to one person, and seeing as I was covering the duties of three other people, it was hell. I was running around damn near constantly, from the party room to the kitchen, to outside on the patio to the garden and back again. I had to keep track of our crew and the guests, what we had, what needed to be refilled as well as interact with said guests and ensure everything was going well.

There were others that were also helping out with a couple of those tasks (actually doing the refills for example), but I was left to giving the orders and doing the bulk of the work.

On one of my trips to the garden, I was cornered by two of the Milton family—Gabriel and Balthazar, who claimed to have been keeping an eye on me (no idea why), and insisted that I sit with them and take a break. They refused to let me leave the area until I'd done so and the others in the garden seemed to agree (or were too scared to say otherwise) because no one tried to stop them.

I'll admit, I did need a break, had been wanting one desperately, but you have to ask for a break so that the boss can find someone to cover you and I hadn't seen him in over an hour. I knew I'd be in some shit when he found out, but I tried to rest as much as possible as they forced me to sit between them with an ice cold glass of water in my hands. They tried to make conversation, more so Gabriel than Balthazar, but it didn't go so well.

Both men were very outgoing, open and just... fun, I guess, so quiet, nervous little ole' me was at a huge loss on how to react. Hell, after fifteen minutes of it, my boss managed to find me and I was almost, almost, thankful that he yelled at me to get back to work. The glare that both men were directing at him was funny though, and I'd have laughed if it wouldn't have gotten me into worse trouble.

“Chris?” I jerked to a stop, nearly tripping over my own feet as I heard the familiar voice. As I turned, I saw Mr. Winchester standing with a couple of other people—a man whom I didn't recognize, and a woman. The man wasn't one of the Miltons, but the woman... I remembered being introduced to her earlier in the day, but I couldn't remember her name. “Wasn't there an orientation this evening?”

I offered a half smile, “Work comes first, sir.” It didn't matter that I technically knew Mr. Winchester or that I'd spoken with him before. Few rules of my job—treat all guests the same no matter what, always answer with 'sir' or 'miss', and don't try to make friends while working. “I apologize for not being able to stay and chat but I've got to get to the kitchen. I'll be back around soon, but if you need anything before then, just let one of the servers know and it will be taken care of as soon as possible. Do enjoy yourselves.”

I didn't give him the chance to say anything back, starting back up on my trek to the kitchen, albeit a little slower this time. I could feel their eyes on me as I left and though they spoke low, I could still hear them talking. About me. “He looks so exhausted..” That was Mr. Winchester and I could almost hear him frowning.

“I imagine he is. He's been here all day. I don't think I've seen him stop for more than a few minutes.” That was the woman, sounding just as Mr. Winchester did. “Poor kid.” That was the last bit I heard before I was out of range.

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. They shouldn't be worrying about me. I'd done this before, granted not to this... extent, but I'd handled plenty enough difficult and stressful situations. I would be sore as hell tomorrow, and likely for the few days following, but I'd get through it. I always did.

I managed to avoid any real conversation or attempts at it for the rest of the party. I attended to the needs and complaints where need be when they would arise, but for the most part, I was helping keep the physical aspects of the party in check (food, dishes, décor, etc).

It was about nine when things finally started to wind down—guests starting to leave, things starting to get cleaned up. I felt pretty good, not tired or sore, granted I'm sure it was only thanks to the energy drinks and coffee I'd taken down throughout the evening. It wasn't something I normally did, but a few of the guys brought a couple of cases along and whenever I'd pass through the kitchen (once or twice an hour) they'd make sure I left with one in hand. I may not know my co-workers very well, but they were more than helpful when it counted.

I was still running around, even after the guests had gone, helping to get things cleaned up and packed away where I could. It was getting hot, way hotter than it had been earlier in the day and I was sweating...

I felt weird. Kinda dizzy, nauseous and so, so fucking ho-- yep, I was gonna be sick. I barely managed to stumble to a garbage can in the hallway before I lost the contents of my stomach. There wasn't much to lose—the energy drinks and bits of fruit that some of the Milton's managed to convince me to eat when I'd pass them, but it all came up in a burning, disgusting mess of blue and green.

Footsteps caught my attention but I didn't bother to look and see who was walking up. I really didn't care. With more effort than I'd like to admit, I pushed off from the bin and leaned back against the wall, where I slid down onto my butt. My glasses were sliding off of my face, so I folded them up and stuck them in my pocket.

“I told you that you were going to overdo it.” I sighed—Balthazar. And he had said that, when I was pinned down for that break.

“I know.” I couldn't argue. He was right. “I just...” It hurt to talk, my throat was sore, the burn of the acid hurting like all hell. “Need a minute.” Or ten. Maybe thirty... or more. More would be nice. “I'll get back to work soon just.. please, please don't tell my boss.” He was already pissed because of the aforementioned break and if he saw me 'slacking off' again, he'd dock my pay.

Shit, I wanted to cry.

“I think you need to go home before you pass out.” I shook my head, taking a deep breath. “You've done far more than enough. I think your... boss can handle the rest without you.” another shake of my head and I pushed myself up, holding onto the wall to steady myself.

“I—I got this. I'm good.” I turned to the door, or where I thought the door was. Was off by about a foot and a half though and managed to walk right into the wall. “Agh—fucking hell. Shit. Glasses.” I grumbled out in pain, sliding the stupid things back onto my face.

The party room was, thank fucking hell, pretty damn clean. The guests had been far from messy, which meant that it wouldn't take anywhere near as long as I had thought to finish up. “Chris!” I looked up and over to the voice—Jackson, one of my co-workers. “Man, you look like shit.” I stared him down, frowning. “Sorry, sorry. Anyway, boss says we can head out. Or, you, me, and the cooks can. Second shifters got the rest of cleanup duty.”

Oh thank the fucking heavens. “Thanks, Jackson. I'll see you tomorrow.” Without another word, I turned and headed right back out the doors again. Balthazar had moved on, so the hallway was empty.

Too bad that having sat down for that brief moment after I threw up kind of fucked me over. My body registered that as 'okay, we're done' and all of my energy was gone. All I wanted to do was pass out but in order to do that, I had to get home and--

I lived almost fifteen miles from the Milton house. How the fuck was I supposed to get home? “You look even worse than you did five minutes ago.” And so Balthazar returned. “Are you even going to be able to drive home?” I tensed up, refusing to look at him. “That's what I though--”

“I.. don't have a car...” It came out as a whisper. “I.. I rode here in the company truck.” I took a deep breath, running a hand down my face. That urge to cry was back and I fought against it with all of the strength left inside of me.

Balthazar's eyes seemed to... soften at that and he sighed. “I'll take you home then. Come on.” Figuring he wasn't about to give me a choice—even though I was too tired to argue anyway—I sighed, following behind him, though keeping a fair number of feet back. “Just be thankful it wasn't Gabriel who found you. As terrible as you look, he'd have forced you to stay here.”

A shudder ran through me at that idea. There was no way in hell I wanted to stay anywhere, especially not with a bunch of people I didn't know.

As we made it outside, my eyes were drawn to someone standing near the edge of the doorway, leaning against the archway, staring up at the sky, seeming to be admiring the stars. He turned to us and smiled as we exited the house. “Thought you would be long gone by now. I'm surprised Sam let you stay.”

“It was Sam's idea that I wait, actually.” I stared at Mr. Winchester, confused. “He had a feeling that Chris would need a bit of help getting home, and since you were the one keeping tabs on him the entire party...” I glanced up at Balthazar. I knew he and Gabriel were watching me when I happened to be in the same room, but.. keeping tabs on me? That... was a little more than weird.

“So you thought that I would be the one to bring him home and you wanted to tag along because you're buddies, right?” Mr. Winchester's smile said that was exactly what he had been thinking.

That smile was turned to me as he stared me down. “Would it be alright if we brought you home?” It made me happy that he actually asked as opposed to demanded, as Balthazar had but... I'd already agreed and I wasn't about to go back on it. I could walk... or even call Darren to pick me up but... fuck I was tired. The sooner I got home and into bed, the better.

“Gods, yes, please. I may not make it back otherwise..” Satisfied, though now worried, they both nodded. Balthazar still led the way while Mr. Winchester walked beside me, making sure that I wouldn't fall or trip or pass out. He even sat with me in the backseat of the car that Balthazar picked out (there were apparently a few to choose from...).

As soon as I was seated, I buckled up and allowed my eyes to close. I felt like absolute shit. Everything started to ache, my throat still burned, my stomach just hurt. If I managed to make it to and through work the next few days it would be a miracle.

“Is your job always like that?”

I shook my head, immediately regretting the action as it throbbed painfully. “No... this was the first time it's been like that... at least for me.” I sighed. “Three guys called in sick.” Though I was sure that they just didn't want to be part of the event. “Since I'm the youngest, he figured I'd be best suited to handle it, with all my youthful energy or some shit.” I didn't remember exactly what he said and I honestly didn't care anymore. I was just glad it was over. “Sometimes I serve or clean. Most of the time it's packing and delivery.”

“You shouldn't have to prove your worth simply because you're younger.” Which... I guess that is technically what I was doing. I shrugged. It didn't matter either way. I had to have the job and there was no way I'd be able to get another one like it. It was hard, yeah. It fucking sucked most days but it paid enough to cover bills, tuition, therapy, food.... There wasn't much left over after that, but that's just how it worked.

“How old are you anyway?” Balthazar piped up, but I didn't answer immediately. I had to think about it.

For a couple of minutes, sadly. “Maybe I'm twenty... no, I think I'm older... maybe twenty three or four...” Since I'd moved away from home, I didn't have a reason to keep track of it, so I never thought about it. It would be on my ID, but I didn't have the energy to take it out.

Mr. Winchester was frowning—I saw it as I cracked open an eye. “Working that hard and you're still just a baby.”

“I have bills to pay.” I stifled a yawn, wincing as I sat up a bit straighter. “I've been working for years. I'm used to it.” Sort of. “Living is... far from cheap.” I heard him sigh, my eyes already closed again. “I'll be okay though. So long as I keep working, everything will be okay.”

I talk a lot more when I'm tired. It's something I noticed over the years. After a certain point, my brain to mouth filter just shuts off and everything comes pouring out. Same thing happens when I drink. “Do you at least have tomorrow off?”

Negatory. “Baby shower in the morning. Cocktail party in the evening. My next day off is... next Wednesday, if something doesn't come up.” Another stifled yawn and I took off my glasses so I could rub my eyes.

“No one could cover a shift for you?”

“They could but they won't. And if I call in, they'll think I can't keep up and let me go. I can't afford to lose my job.” I honestly don't know what I'd do if I did.

“That's not very fair on you.”

I smiled wryly, letting out a humourless laugh. “Life isn't fair, Mr. Winchester.” I sighed. “Life's never fair to people like me.” That last bit came out mumbled and it was the last thing I remembered saying.

Apparently I was even more tired than I thought, because I was out—dead asleep for the rest of the ride. It wasn't a restful sleep by any means but that didn't mean I wanted to wake up, so I grumbled, annoyed, as they tried to wake me.

“We're here.” Groaning softly, I ran a hand down my face, patting at the seat belt latch until it came undone. “I'm sorry.”

“F'wha?” I managed to respond, though my words were slurred. “S'not yer faul'...” Where was the stupid door handle at?

“I think you may need to put him to bed, Cassie. He doesn't look like he's going to make it very far without passing out again.” Oh, yeah, Balthazar drove me home.

I shook my head. “Nuh. I g-gotit.” There we go, managed to get the door open. As the cool night air hit me though, I got nauseous all over again and had to hold onto the car to steady myself and I hadn't even stood up yet. “N'vmin'. H'lp ple'se.”

Mr. Winchester got out of the car and walked around to my side. “I'm going to put my arm around your waist, okay? To help you walk.” I nodded and he did as said, moving slowly so he wouldn't startle me or incite a reaction like what had happened last time he tried to touch me.

“Two-two-three.” Was all I managed to get out as he helped me stand. I tried to wrap an arm around his shoulder, but it didn't work out—him being taller and bigger than myself, so I wound up holding onto his shirt instead.

It was weird, really really really fucking weird to have someone helping me walk, hell, to have someone helping me at all. I didn't touch people often and they sure as hell didn't touch me. It was made very clear to everyone -teachers, coworkers, my boss, even our clients-, do not touch me and if you do, prepare for the consequences. I had a tendency to... freak out and it could get violent.

So, yeah, it was really weird.

My apartment was, unfortunately, upstairs on the opposite side of the complex that we parked, so the walk took a good few minutes. I managed to dig my key out of my pocket without too much trouble and even opened the door, but I almost fell over as soon as I let go of the doorway. “Almost there, Chris. Just a little longer and you'll be able to sleep, okay?” I nodded, not able to argue.

“Place's... gross. Roommate's disgusting.. sorry..” The smell of garbage hit us as soon as we walked in and I wrinkled my nose, grumbling. “Hate it here..” Darren was home, in the living room playing his xbox and though he glanced over, he said nothing, more worried about his game. “There.” I motioned to my door and Mr. Winchester led me over and into my room.

Mr room was kept clean, and walking in from the living room, it looked like it was an entirely different building. There was paperwork and a few bits of clothing scattered here and there but everything was generally kept clean and organized.

Knowing that I was safely in my room, exhaustion finally got the best of me and I was out before I even hit the pillow.

When I woke up the next morning, bright and early thanks to my phone screaming at me, I was under the covers, stripped of my clothes from the night before, and in a pair of sleep pants that I had no memory of putting on. My glasses were on the bedside table and my paperwork was stacked in a neat pile next to them.

Chapter Text

The following Wednesday, as I had told Mr. Winchester, was my next day off and from the looks of it, I was actually going to have the entire day off. No one had texted me and seeing as it was already past nine in the morning, the likelihood of anyone texting me at all was slim to none! I was actually free! Granted, my body was begging me to stay in bed and just go back to sleep but I couldn't waste the day.

Somehow, I managed to get out of bed, shower, and get dressed, all before even looking at the coffee pot. Though, by the time I actually left the house, I'd drank four cups, just to ensure I'd be good to go for the day.

I had an appointment with Dr. Marshall, my therapist, that afternoon, which meant I had a few hours to kill and what better way to do that than to go get a wonderfully delicious piece of carrot cake at the cafe.

Since it was only slightly cloudy, and rather cool outside, I opted to walk, my usual bag slung around me. No point in taking the bus in such great weather.

Unfortunately, my trip turned out to be a waste of time. When I walked up to the door I was met with a big blue sign-- “On vacation! Be back on August 21st!” hanging on the door. I stared at it for a few minutes, frowning. Mrs. Evans hadn't mentioned a vacation the last time I'd been there, which, it could have been spontaneous, but still...

With a heavy sigh, I turned and started back in the direction I'd just come from. The next best place was the park and while it didn't have cake, it did have plenty of places to just sit and relax. Made me thankful that I'd packed my own thermos of tea...

The park I liked was about halfway between the apartment and the cafe so it was a bit of a walk to get to, but it was definitely well worth it. The 'picnic area' which happened to be where most of the tables and benches were placed was big and open, with a few large oak trees spread throughout. There weren't many people, it being a Wednesday morning, but even still I chose to sit by one of the trees. That way I could lean back and enjoy the view and not have to worry about being bothered by anyone.

With a content sigh, I settled down and pulled out my tea and book, crossing my legs and making myself comfortable. The temperature, combined with the light breeze and cloudy sky made for the perfect day, and as I settled, I was kind of glad that the cafe was closed.

A jogger approached where I was, following along the sidewalk and as he saw me, he gave a wave, smiling. I recognized him—he was the guy that had been with Mr. Winchester at the Milton party. Not wanting to be rude, I gave a small wave back, silently hoping that he'd just keep on with his business. Thankfully, he did, disappearing into the more forested area of the park.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding in and cracked open my book. I was about a third of the way through and if I was lucky, may even get to finish it before I had to head off to my appointment.

I uh... may have gotten way, way too into it, though, because I completely tuned out the world around me... which wouldn't have been so bad but someone plopped down next to me, which caused me to squeak loudly in terror and nearly jump out of my skin. The remainder of my tea splattered onto the ground, too.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.” It was the guy—the jogger guy friend-person of Mr. Winchester. Actually, thinking about it, it was more than likely his husband. “I'm Sam. You're Chris, right?” Yep. Husband. I nodded. “Cas told me about you.”

I narrowed my eyes, staring at him in disbelief. Cas—Mr. Winchester... talked to him about me? I didn't think I'd made enough of an impression on him to warrant him talking about me to anyone else so why would he... “I.. uhm.. it's nice to meet you, sir.” I tried to smile, but the confusion I was feeling over the matter, combined with my general nervousness put me off. I bit my lip, trying to think of something else to say, because it didn't look like he planned on leaving anytime soon.

“Please, just call me Sam. Sir makes me feel old.” He laughed and I smiled a bit more. “You attend Crestview, right?” I nodded. I did, sorta. I had the year before, and I was planning on continuing, so long as nothing got in the way. “What's your major?”

Cue fidgeting. “I.. actually haven't chosen. I've meant to but I work a lot, so I haven't had the chance to work out what I want to do.” I wasn't too concerned with it, honestly. I had time to figure it out...

Sam nodded. “You have plenty of time to choose something.” See? “You work for Bellfor...”

Oooh, right. Should probably apologize for being a dick at the party. “Yeah... er.. I'm sorry for being rude and brushing you guys off. I was already in trouble for something that had happened, and I couldn't afford to be caught idling.” Again.

“It's fine. I know you were crazy busy.” I nodded, sighing. “Cas told me he and Balthazar had to help you get home after... is that how work always is for you?”

“Thankfully not.” Another sigh. “We were short handed and I had to pick up the slack. Things get pretty crazy sometimes, but I think that would be with all jobs at one point or another. What's ah... your occupation of choice?” I recalled Cas saying he was a good cook, perhaps he was a chef? I’d thought about that at the time, I believe.

Sam grinned wide, his face lighting up. “I was a lawyer for a good few years, but nowadays, I'm just a house-husband.” It didn't sound like an appealing job to have, either of them, but he sounded ecstatic about it. “Which is a full time job in itself.”

“I imagine so. Shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry...” Among other things. Which, thinking about it, I did all of that too. Did that mean I was technically working two jobs? “It's worth it though, isn't it?”

“Oh, definitely. I wouldn't have it any other way.” Sam sighed, content, signifying that he really was perfectly happy in his current situation. I almost felt jealous of that. “Are you seeing anyone?” That... is a bit of an off the wall question. I hated talking about my private life.

So my hesitation was completely understandable, but... it wouldn't hurt to tell him, I guess. I didn't have to go into detail about everything. “No, I.. ah... I don't... I don't date.” Curiosity was written all over his face and he sat quietly, waiting for me to continue. “I have.. a bit of trouble with the more intimate parts of a relationship. Touching, especially.” That was as much as I was going to say, and he didn’t question further, thank goodness. “Not that I really mind. I need to focus on work and school anyway. That's what's important.”

“I understand.” Thank fuck. “The touching thing, I mean. Cas was like that when we first met.” Well, I wasn't expecting that one. “He didn't like to be touched unexpectedly. I'd have to make sure he knew what I was going to do and when. I'd ask to hug him or even hold his hand. It took a while to get the hang of it but we worked on it over the years. If he's having a bad day, I'll ask just to be on the safe side, but now, well, can you be addicted to hugging?” I couldn't help but laugh. Addicted to hugging? Shit, anything's possible.

“He could be addicted to worse. Coffee, for example.” Like me. I have a caffeine addiction. It's a terrible thing but it gets the job done.

“Thank god he isn't. I've seen him on a caffeine high once and that was more than enough.” I could only imagine how someone as laid back as Mr. Winchester would be when hyped up on caffeine... it's always the quiet ones, y'know.

I nodded, smiling. “I bet it was. The crash is horrible, too.” Sam nodded in agreement, likely having dealt with his husband's crash. “That's... er.. kinda actually why I needed help getting home after the party.. I drank..” I counted off on my fingers, trying to remember exactly what it had been. “Five cups of coffee, two red bull, a reign, a monster, an amp, half a kickstart... and a five hour energy. Once I started to slow down, I overheated, got sick, and crashed, badly.”

And now he was frowning in serious disapproval. Had the feeling he'd be telling Mr. Winchester about that one. “That's really bad for you. Are you alright?”

“I was still sick the two days following and dead tired, but I'm alright now.” Shrug. “I don't do it often. Usually I just have coffee. It was just a really, really long day. Things have been pretty calm since then. The guys who bailed on us were fired and a few new ones were hired on. The workload is more evenly distributed, so it hasn't been too bad.”

Sam nodded. “That's good.” I nodded as well. A yawn tried to escape but I bit it back, not wanting Sam to think I was getting bored. “You still look pretty tired.”

“I kind of am, but it's fine.” Seems the coffee wasn’t working as I’d hoped, but there's no way I would have gotten rest if I had stayed at the apartment, not with Darren blasting the TV. “I'll turn in early tonight to make up for it.” It's all I could do, but it'd work out alright.

He nodded, but didn't look too happy about it. Geez. I never thought twice about my lifestyle and habits before these guys popped up and now I feel kind of bad about how I go about things. I know I'm not the healthiest person, but I do what I have to.

As stupid as this is gonna sound, the way they look at me when I mention doing something 'bad' makes me feel like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Maybe it was just because they were older than me or something. They did sort of give off this ‘dad vibe’. Maybe they had kids or something, though Mr. Winchester never mentioned that…

ooOoo

What happened after that was... nothing less than embarrassing, at least for me, and I'm not sure how to feel about it. I sort of.. maybe.. kind of fell asleep. I know Sam and I chatted for a little longer after the talk about work, but after, we drifted into a comfortable silence as we watched the scenery... and that was it. I was out.

When I woke up, it was nearly two fucking hours later, a great deal warmer, and Sam was still sitting beside me, though that last bit was probably due to the fact that I wound up lying against him. I'd slid in my sleep and my head was resting against his shoulder, which I jumped away from the second I realized what I was doing, fear and panic shooting through me. “S-S-Sorry--! I- I didn't—I mean—I didn't mean to—fuck, I'm sorry!”

“Hey, hey, breath. It's alright.” Sam smiled softly and I tried to do as he said, taking in a deep breath. “I'm glad you were able to get a bit of rest.” So.. he.. didn't mind that I'd fallen asleep on him? Literally? I was a stranger.. “Do you feel any better?”

I nodded, “Yes, actually.. Thanks for.. letting me sleep.. for letting me uh.. use you as a pillow.” My cheeks were burning bright red and I kept my eyes on my lap.

“No problem. You looked pretty comfortable. I didn't have the heart to move you.” And so the blushing intensifies. “Your phone went off right before you woke up, by the way.” Blinking, I leaned over, tugging it out of my pocket. There was a text. From work. Of fucking course. I frowned, nearly growling in frustration. “Work?”

“Yeah.” I snorted, running a hand through my hair. “One of the new guys quit, so I have to cover for him.” I wasn't surprised in the least—so much for a day off. I'd just have to reschedule my appointment again. “It was nice talking with you, Sam.”

“Same to you, Chris—oh, one second, before you go.” Sam pulled out his cell phone, tapping at it for a second before handing it over. It was open to the... to the contact information screen. “I liked talking with you and I know Cas does too... so I thought maybe we could try and meet up sometime, when you aren't busy.”

I froze, staring at the screen of his phone as I tried to register exactly what was happening. They... wanted to spend more time with me. They actually liked talking to me... I almost couldn't believe it and if not for the fact that I'd just woken up, I'd have thought that I was still dreaming.

“I understand if you don't want to. I mean, we are pretty much strangers and--”

“No!” I cut him off, shaking my head. “No, it's.. not that.” I looked at him, smiling. “It surprised me is all. I'd.. I'd like to hangout sometime.” I quickly typed my number and name into the phone and handed it back to him. “Text me and I'll save your number too. I guess I should warn you though. I won't answer phone calls.”

“That's fine. Texting is more convenient anyway.” Sam grinned and I nodded. “I'll send it once I get home. Have a good day, okay?” I almost snorted.

“I'll try.”

ooOoo

“You finally got yourself a fuck buddy?” I glanced over at Darren from my place in the kitchen, eyes narrowed. “That old dude you brought home last week. You two seemed pretty cozy.” He raised an eye brow, smirking and I let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose as I tried to figure out how to answer without using the words 'fuck' and 'off'.

“That was Mr. Winchester. He's a friend. I got sick at work and he helped me home. That's all.” I turned my attention back to the poor excuse for 'food' on the counter before me. It was some cheap microwavable thing that looked less like real food than I liked to admit. “Why do you care anyway?”

Darren shrugged, leaning back as he turned his eyes back to the television. “I don't. Just figured if you were finally screwing someone, you'd be moving out soon.” Yeah, because that was subtle. I knew what he wanted. “Can't stay here forever, y'know. I sure as hell can't wait to get out. Place is a fuckin' dump.” Now pissed, I officially lost my appetite. I tossed the food into the bin and snatched up my bag. “If you're leaving, grab some sodas on your way back. We're out.”

As I left the apartment, making sure to slam the door behind me, I decided to just pretend I hadn't heard him. There was no way in hell I was buying that lazy fuck anything.

This wasn't the first time he'd brought up my leaving and I knew it wouldn't be the last. He liked to bring it up every other week at least, usually after his girlfriend decided to stay over. I think the only reason he hadn't kicked me out was because I paid for so much shit.

“Asshole.” I grunted out, zipping up my jacket as I made my way down the stairs.

Chapter Text

Okay, so I have news. Some good, some bad, all news. The good news is that after a couple of weeks of texting with Sam, he actually managed to convince me to go out for tea and cake with him and Mr. Win-- Cas. I mean Cas. Apparently calling him 'Mr. Winchester' was too formal now that we would be hanging out. Anyhow, tea and cake at my favourite cafe! Pretty cool, right?

The bad news, which I'll get over with quickly, is that my therapist is moving out of the state. He said that he couldn't tell me everything, due to the nature of the situation, but summed it up as a 'family emergency' that he wouldn't be returning from.. which sucks. Really really really sucks.

At my last appointment, he suggested that I meet with one of his colleagues, but I immediately dismissed the idea. After everything I'd had to do to get where I was with him, there was no way in hell I was going to start all the fuck over. So, I'm without a therapist, which I'll just have to deal with.

It could have been worse. I mean, it wasn't like I was seeing him for medication or something. It was just nice to be able to talk to an unbiased party about everything going on—someone that wouldn't call me bitchy or annoying.

The only good thing about him leaving was that it would save me a little over five hundred dollars a month... a fact that I did everything in my power to focus on.

Anyway, away from the bad news—It was Cas' idea to meet up at the cafe, since it was an easy enough location for me to get to on my own (I refused the offer for a ride.) and it would be an environment that I was comfortable in. I happily agreed, mostly because of the cake. Or, that’s what I was telling myself.

When I walked into the building, Mrs. Evans gave me a bright smile and nodded over to the table where Sam, Cas an-- they brought someone with them. I couldn't see the guy's face, as his back was to me, but from how he was sitting and fidgeting, he looked... nervous, which actually made me feel better.

Sam, who was sitting opposite of the mystery man and Cas, saw me and grinned, waving me over. I took a deep breath before I walked over, and Sam scooted over as I did, letting me sit, thankfully, near the aisle, which meant that I wasn't boxed in. It put me across from the new guy... and of course the first thing I notice is the fact that I'm a lot smaller than all of them. “I... feel very little.” It came out as a mumble before I even thought about it, though they all heard me.

“You are little, compared to us, but you're also younger... and we're unnaturally big. Or, at least I am.” He wasn't, they weren't. I was the one that was unnaturally short, but I also knew why. I did appreciate him trying to make me feel better about it though. “He kind of is, too, so don't feel bad.” Sam motioned to the new guy with a laugh. “Okay, introductions! Chris, this is Dean, my brother and our roommate. Dean, this is Chris, the new friend we've been telling you about.”

So, the married couple have a roommate. That's a little strange, but it was Sam's brother, so I guess not? Maybe they share Cas—okay, brain, stop that. Oof, I could feel my face warming, and could only hope they figured it was because I was nervou--

Wait, they'd been telling the guy about me? Why would they do that? Why was I so interesting to these people? “Cute.” Dean grinned at me, not-so nervous anymore, and I started to glow red, looking away and fidgeting with the hem of my jacket. I had no idea what to say to that.

“Here you fellas are.” Mrs. Evans popped up, gently setting down a large tray in the middle of the table. I gave her a thankful smile, because that was just the distraction I needed. The tray held four cups of varying liquid and a number of different desserts. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” She smiled back at me as she walked away. Sam took it upon himself to distribute the food and drinks, placing a glass with a straw in front of Dean, a cup of tea in front of myself and Cas, and the glass of water stayed with him. “Huh?” I was confused—I hadn't ordered...

“We put in our order when we arrived so everything would be ready for when you did.” Cas explained simply, taking a sip of his tea. Oh.

I nodded, picking up my cup and taking a quick sip to see what it was. “Thank you.” It was raspberry tea, my favourite. Carrot cake, another favourite of course, was placed in front of me and I stared at it hungrily. Dean immediately started in on his— Mrs. Evans’ apple pie, from what I could tell, and seemed to be moaning at the taste.

I stared at him, confused and curious. I hadn't ever seen someone get that excited over food before. I mean, I kind of did, but I never just scarfed it down like he was doing, and I sure as hell never moaned.

Cas gave him a soft nudge with his elbow, which made Dean smile sheepishly, slowing down. “Sorry.” Dean coughed. “I really like pie.” That was directed at me, an explanation.

Not wanting him to feel weird, I smiled. “I feel the same about carrot cake. I'd eat it every day if it wouldn't make me sick after a while.”

“Some foods are worth getting sick over.” I suppose there were some. Another reason I didn't eat it more often was because I didn't have that much extra cash. Or, I did now I supposed, but I needed to save up. “So,” Dean swallowed another bite, “tell me about yourself. I mean, these two won't shut up about you, but it's different hearing it from the actual person.”

Well, if he actually was nervous before, he sure as hell wasn't now. Me on the other hand? “Oh—I—uhm... well, I--” Deep breath, man. Deeeeeep breath. This isn't an interrogation. “What they told you.. I guess that's kind of it. I'm not a very interesting person.”

“Nonsense.” Cas smiled. “You're plenty interesting.” I... if he thinks so. “How about you tell us what you like to do? Hobbies?”

Hobbies? Oh, man, when was the last time I did something like that. Something just for fun... It had to be before I moved out here. “I...well... I like to draw and sing...” There was something else.. “Build stuff..” Did I ever mention how much I hated talking about myself? Because I really, really do. I never know what to say and I feel stupid.

“What kinda stuff do you build?” Dean piped up, oddly excited over my last bit.

“Ah.. nothing lately, but I've made all kinds of stuff. Storage and treasure boxes, mostly, but I've also done...” I paused, trying to think of what wouldn't cause them to ask questions. “kids beds, a swingset, dressers...” I used to make most of the furniture for myself and my sister, and people in the area would ask me to build things or design things for one reason or another.

I kind of wished I could get back into it, but even if I didn't work all the time, there's no way in hell I could start up again while living with Darren. Other than the fact that he'd complain about the noise and the smell and the mess (though the smell of wood would be phenomenally better than what the place smells like now), there was way too little space. I'd have to empty out the entire living room to use, which he would never go along with.

Dean grinned wider, and with a quick glance, I could see both Cas and Sam smiling as well. “That's awesome! You gotta show me your work sometime. I'll show you mine, too.” Head tilt. “I build miniature cars. Like model cars, but all by hand from scrap metal.” Cars, huh? Fitting. Dean seemed like a 'car guy'.

At that moment my phone beeped and I couldn't stop the groan that escaped as I heard the sound. I didn't want to look. I really didn't want to, but with a heavy sigh, I pulled it out and clicked it on. The message popped up... and it wasn't work. Which was weird, but something I was definitely grateful for. Unfortunately, it wasn't a pleasant message regardless.

“Work?” I shook my head, skimming over the message again. 'Ems cmg sleep. Dont cum home.' I sneered at it, not bothering to respond before shoving the phone back into my pocket. “Is everything okay?”

I huffed, taking a large bite of cake. “Just my roommate being himself.” After having seen the apartment, Cas understood and looked less than pleased.

“May I ask why you continue living with... such a person.” Cas was trying his best to not insult Darren, but nothing he could have said would have bothered me.

“You can call him whatever you like.” I held back a snort, my 'bad' side already showing. “Lazy, disgusting, arrogant, brutish, moronic, insufferable---” I stopped. I had to or I never would. The number of things I could call him was endless, and he deserved it. “I know he's not a good person, hardly a tolerable one. I stay there because it's the only place I could afford when I first moved to town. Apartments around here are ridiculous and campus housing closes during the summer and holiday breaks.”

“You don't have anyone else that you could stay with?”

I shook my head, sipping my tea. “It's fine though. He's gross, but I'm usually only there to sleep, so it's not... not so bad. I mean, at least I have somewhere to stay.”

That was the end of that conversation, but we continued talking all afternoon, about anything and everything. Cars, school, movies, food. It was nice, really nice, and even though they adamantly refused to let me pay for my portion of the bill, it was an awesome afternoon. Once again, we'd managed to stick around the cafe until it grew dark, which unfortunately meant that I was in a fair bit of trouble.

Seeing as I hadn't gotten another text telling me otherwise, I wasn't allowed to go back to the apartment. Emily absolutely fucking refused to stay over or even go to the apartment if I was anywhere around. I was never given the exact reason, but I knew why and it pissed me off. There wasn't anything I could do about it other than bitch, but that never got me anywhere. All it did was piss Darren off and make him invite her over more.

“Would you like a ride home?” I winced as Sam asked, an action that did not go unnoticed. They all stared at me and I sighed heavily.

“Actually, if you could drop me off at the motel on East Street, that'd be lovely.” One look at their faces and I knew they wanted an explanation. “Whenever his girlfriend decides to come over, I have to be gone. She's spending the night so... yeah. She... has issues with my.. 'state of being'.” Which made very little sense when said that way, but was the easiest way to explain it without going into detail. Thankfully, none of them pressed the issue.

Sam looked at Cas, who in turn looked at Dean, then back at Sam, who looked to Dean, then back to Cas. Dean stared at the couple with what could only be described as 'puppy eyes' and it was apparent then that Sam and Cas were having a silent conversation. After a few moments, Cas nodded, and the other two men smiled wide.

“You are more than welcome to spend the night at our house.”

Wait—wait, what!? “I-I-I couldn't—I mean—I--” I didn't have any good reason to deny them. I knew that. We'd met up enough, and talked so much that saying 'I don't know you well enough' would likely offend them, and... honestly, I didn't want to stay at that dingy motel. Still though, I was a stuttering, panicky mess because I didn't know how to react to an offer like that. “A-Are you sure it's o-okay? I d-don't want to be a b-bother or something...”

Cas nodded, now smiling softly. “Of course it's alright. We wouldn't offer if it wasn't. Now, let's get going. It's starting to get late and I'm sure you'd like to get a good night's rest before work.” I nodded, letting out a sigh as I climbed into his car, this time into the back seat, sitting opposite Dean.

Once again, I felt very small, sitting in the back seat of a huge car next to a guy that had like six inches on me in height and was a lot larger than myself. It made me a little uneasy. I mean, I knew Sam and Cas... well enough, and they were alright, which meant by association, Dean had to be alright too, but it was still unnerving. The only saving grace to my paranoia was the fact that in being small, I was also very, very fast and there was no way in hell any of them would be able to catch me if I started running.

It was a quiet ride to their house, and I couldn't help but stare in awe as we arrived. It was a pretty big house—single story, dark green with white accents, a two car garage. There were all types of flowers lining the outside of the house, too. It was simple, but beautiful. Envy twisted in my stomach for a few moments. Jealousy sucked.

“Would you like something to eat?” The first thing asked as we entered. Food was the last thing on my mind though. The cake and three cups of tea had done a fine job of filling me up.

“No thank you.. uhm.. would.. may I... maybe take a shower?”

“Of course.” Cas nodded to Sam, who walked over to me with a smile.

“Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is and get you something to wear for the night. It'll be big, but you'll definitely be comfortable.” I nodded, padding behind him as he led me through the house. From the living room, through the dining area and down the hall, all the way to the end and to the left.

It was the master bedroom—his and Cas'-- if the king sized bed said anything. “Let's see...” I stood by the doorway as Sam dug through one of the dresser drawers. He grinned, pulling out a shirt, followed by a pair of socks and from the looks of it—underwear. “Like I said, it's going to be kind of big.” But instead of handing me the clothes, he held onto them as he walked over to another door, opening it to reveal the master bathroom. “Come on.” I nodded and trotted over.

“You can use the shower or the bath. Just watch the hot water—it gets really, really hot.” I nodded once more and he set the clothes on the counter, pulling out a towel and washcloth, setting them beside them. “Cas has a thing for scented soaps, so feel free to use whatever you like. When you're done, put the towels in the basket and come on into the living room.”

I looked up at him and nodded with a shy smile. “Thank you.” He left me in the bathroom and I locked the door as soon as he did, turning the shower on full blast. My clothes were dropped into a pile on the floor beside the sink so I could grab them after, and I stepped into what was the best shower of my fucking life.

Sam wasn't lying when he said the water got hot. I turned it as high as it could go and left it there, steam filling the entire bathroom. The soap I used smelled like coconut and... it was just fucking amazing. When I got out, about fifteen minutes later, I looked seriously sunburnt, but I didn't care. The water at the apartment only ever got warm at best, and never stayed that way, and the motels only ever had ice cold water.

Happy as could be, I dried off and got dressed in the clothes lent to me by Sam—the shirt was freaking huge. I was almost swimming in it, but it was soft and clean and smelled like detergent. The socks were the same, and even the underwear, but fresh, clean clothes after a hot shower? Nothing better than that.

I emerged from the bathroom tired as hell, but happy, and carefully made my way to the living room, as previously instructed. Dean was dressed for bed, from what I could tell and as I came in, Cas left, presumably to do shower and get comfortable as well. The clock on the DVR said it was... eight... something? I couldn't entirely make out the numbers.

Sam patted the sofa next to him and I laid my clothes (now folded) down on the coffee table along with my glasses before scooting up to sit. I let out a yawn as I leaned back, rubbing at my eyes with one hand. “Thanks f'lettin' me stay here t'night.”

“It's no problem at all.” Sam was smiling and Dean nodded his head in agreement. “We couldn't let you stay in some dingy motel. Especially the ones around here... They aren't the safest places to be, especially at night.” I nodded, knowing that little fact all too well. “I'm curious—how bad are your eyes?”

“Not too bad, I guess. I mean, lots of things far away are blurry... and I can't read the DVR clock, but I can generally tell what and where things are.”

“Have you thought about contacts?”

I nodded. “I plan on getting them one day. Just never got around to making an appointment.” Cue yawning. “It's hard to get things done when work is texting you at all hours of the day.” I frowned. “I... I complain about work a lot, don't I? I'm sorry.. I don't mean to.”

Sam shook his head. “It's alright. If you need to rant or something, feel free. I know it helps.”

“I—yeah. But I should just be thankful that I have a job. I mean, I am, but I dunno. Just... kinda wish things were... easier, I guess.” Reaching levels of tired that shut down the 'brain to mouth' filter. Danger alert!

“How long have you been working?” That one was Dean.

“First paying job was.. at fourteen. Grocery store. But my parents both worked full time jobs, so I took care of the house and my sister.. since I was a kid, which was a job in itself. I've been on my own since I was... seventeen, I think? I don't keep track anymore..” Another yawn and I shook myself to try and stay awake. Stupid soft, comfortable couch. “I'm... really tired so I'm just gonna do this...” I lowered myself onto the cushions, curling up slightly, my head near Sam's legs. “Jus' wake me up if I gotta move..”

There was a soft chuckle, and I felt something brush over my hair, “Goodnight, Chris.”

Chapter Text

The next morning I was awoken by the absolutely wonderful smell of warm pancakes and smiled wide, taking in a deep, deep breath. I was still on the couch, but there was a blanket over top of me and a pillow in my arms, which I guess at some point during the night had been under my head. I made to roll over to get up, managing to actually roll myself right off of the couch in the process, landing on the floor with a painful thump. “Ow.”

“You okay?” That would be Dean, sounding awake and... chipper. Ugh. Morning people. “Need help?”

I tried to move, but it... didn't quite work. The blanket was tangled around me from the fall, effectively turning me into a burrito. “Yes.” With a laugh, he started tugging the blanket out from around me, getting me untangled without any sort of injury on either of ours part. Immediately after, as I was left lying on my back after being released, he reached down and lifted me up into the air.

“Holy shit you're lighter than I thought.” Still half asleep, freaking exhausted, I did nothing more than laugh and kick my feet a little. “Guys, look at this.” Look at what? Me?

He started walking but my lack of glasses combined with my still being tired meant I had no idea where we were going. But why were we going somewhere? Was it to where the pancakes were?

"Didn't know I could fly.." The statement was met with laughter, which meant we were near others now—Cas and Sam, likely, but we kept moving.

Dean spoke again, laughter in his voice, "He doesn't weigh anything. Look." I was passed off, letting out a soft ‘oof’, and whoever had taken me lifted me up higher. "See? He’s like a kid."

There were more chuckles, and then I went up a bit, then back down, yawning as I reached up to rub my eyes. "You'd think with the muscle he's built up for work... wow." Sam! “It’s probably because of his height. If he were even as tall as Cas, he’d weight a lot more.”

As much fun as they were having, my brain was very, very slowly starting to come online, and I was definitely done with… whatever they were doing with me. "Dun wanna fly n'more. Food?" Another round of laughs, but per my request, I was sat into a chair and scooted forward as a plate of, just as I smelled, pancakes was sat in front of me.

After that, despite my brain starting to come online, it fizzled again and things blurred out, but I do know I took down at least three huge pancakes and a cup of juice before I stumbled back to the couch and passed right back out. Can you blame me though? A belly full of awesome, home cooked food could put anyone to sleep.

Unfortunately, when I woke up again it was because my phone was screeching at me. Panicked, I flew up and off the couch, landing once again with a painful thump on the floor, slamming my head on the coffee table. It wasn't often that I got a phone call but when I did, it always meant trouble, and more than likely, I was in it. I snatched the phone up with one hand, the other putting pressure on the sore spot on my head.

My boss was already yelling, but as soon as he realized that I’d answered, he directed it at me, "Harper! Get your scrawny ass down here now! Wilson and Tori fucked up and you gotta cover their asses! Fifteen minutes or you’re out!"

I was wide awake in an instant and shaking as the phone clicked off and it slipped out of my hand onto the floor. Faster than I think I’d ever been before, I shot to my feet and stripped out of the clothing I had borrowed, not even thinking about folding it as I scrambled about, trying to pull on my own. I was looking for my glasses when I heard someone walk up. "Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

Dean. It was Dean."I-I--w-work--c-call--gotta go--g-gonna be in trouble--" My heart rate was accelerating, my breathing was shallow-- fuck if I didn’t calm down, I’d have an anxiety attack on the way there.

"It's okay. I'll give you a ride. You're gonna be fine.” He was trying to help, he really was, but once panic mode set in, I couldn’t stop it. I had to go and I had to go now. For the time it would take him to get dressed, find his keys, load us into the car, plug the directions in the GPS--- I’d get there quicker if I just ran. Maybe. Didn’t care.

Glasses! Needed my glasses. Last thing. "I-I can't--I gotta--Sorry! I-I'm sorry!" As soon as my glasses were located (they’d made their way under the coffee table in my rush) and shoved onto my face, I grabbed my bag and ran straight out the front door.

I was absolutely freaking out as I ran, but I knew the area, and if I was correct, getting to work would take about ten minutes if I ran the entire way there...if I was lucky, I'd make it. If I wasn’t so lucky, and I was late, well, here’s to hoping that the boss needed me more than he liked to say he didn’t.

ooOoo

I didn't get the chance to see any of them again, even in passing, for weeks, and when I finally did, it was far from a good day. Because of work picking up (the guys from before were fired, along with a few more whiners), any hope of me getting back into classes of any sort was gone. Sure, that meant a few extra grand in my savings account, but it also meant I was at a wall. Yeah, a wall.

Work, eat, sleep, shower, work, forget to eat, sleep too late, work, forget to shower, forget to eat—it was a cycle and not one I was enjoying in the least. I was tired all the time, I'd lost weight, was cranky as fuck all the time (I'd mouthed off to a number of co-workers and told Darren to go fuck himself about a thousand times, which he either laughed off, or retaliated by inviting his fucking girlfriend over and booting me to the motel) and no amount of coffee or sugar helped.

I no longer had days off, as we were severely understaffed, and any and all free time I managed to have was spent sleeping or doing extra work to try and get us ahead.

I even started ignoring Sam and Cas’s texts and calls, which they were understandably less than happy about. They were just worried about me, I knew that, but I just couldn't bring myself to put forth any energy into trying to hold a half decent conversation. I'd always respond with short, usually one word responses and blow them off every time they tried to get me to hang out. I just... couldn't do it.

Which sort of maybe led them into taking matters into their own hands and visiting me... at work. Or, Cas did anyway. Considering what was coming, I was happy it was just one of them.

It was a slower day, only one event in the late evening, so I was doing prep work, getting together the last of what they'd be needing, making sure nothing was forgotten. I wasn't going on the run, which meant I'd actually be able to get more than four hours of sleep, but I still had to finish up before I could leave.

“Ey, Harper. Some guy's here to see ya.” I looked over to my boss who was, by some miracle of the higher powers, in a good mood for once. “Ten minutes.” I nodded, wiping my hands on my pants as I made my way out to the front office. I was sweaty and dirty, covered in flour and grease and hell knows what else. My glasses were smudged, hair a mess, and there were holes in my shirt, but I didn't care.

Though, I won't lie... Part of me started to care, just a little bit, as Cas stared down at me with worry, shock... disappointment. “Goodness, Chris.... you look terrible.” I huffed, taking the time to at least clean off my glasses. “We've been worried about you, have you been alright?”

Alright? No, I had definitely not been alright, but I wasn’t about to tell them that. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. I've been.. here.” I motioned around me. “Pretty much all day, every day.” Cas was frowning now and I could almost see the gears turning in his head. “Look, I'm fine.” Fine enough, anyway. “Things are crazy right now but they'll settle down soon and I'll be... fine.”

“How have things been at home?”

Oh, come on. I seriously do not have time for a fucking interrogation. “I'm not there all too often, so fine, I guess.” And the gears clicked into place—Cas narrowed his eyes at me. Oh yeah, I messed up. Dropped just a little too much information there.

“You've been staying at the motel, haven't you?” God fucking damnit to— “You should have said something. You would have been more than welcome to stay with us.”

“I appreciate the... thought, but I can't just crash on your couch every time Darren decides to get laid.” I snorted. “The motel is cheap enough and I only go there to sleep. It's not every night, either, just two or three times a week.” It had started off as once or twice, then two or three. It felt like he was honestly trying to ease his way up into kicking me out altogether, but I couldn’t prove it.

“We wouldn't have minded. It would have been a hell of a lot better than you staying there.” Oh, he was getting mad, which meant that it was time for me to leave before things got worse.

Leave it to him to make me feel even worse about everything going on, even if he didn’t mean to.

I looked over at the clock above the door. “Look, I'm sorry, but I'm doing what needs to be done. I have to get back to work. I'll text you later, let you know I'm okay and whatever, but I have to go.” I didn’t give him the chance to say anything else, and I pretended to not notice the hand he tried to reach out to me or the look on his face as I turned and walked back through the doors leading to the kitchens.

I had to focus on work, I had to stay distracted. I couldn’t think about them or anything else, not then.

ooOoo

I don't know what it is I could have done to piss off the powers that be, but they were really screwing me to hell this year. My temporary residence at the shitty motel with no hot water, a broken window unit, and semen tainted carpet? No longer temporary. Darren decided, finally (and I was right, I knew that it was coming) that he wanted Emily to move in with him. You know what that means? It means he kicked me out.

No actual warning what-so-fucking-ever either. I come home from work one day to find the apartment spotless and all of my stuff packed up. Yeah, my stuff, meaning he’d gone into my room and packed my things.

Granted, it wasn't much stuff—clothes and books mostly, but it was all crammed into two duffel bags and waiting for me at the door, which he wouldn’t even let me walk into, meaning that Emily was already there. Confirmed when I managed to peak through and saw her sitting on the couch with the smuggest fucking grin on her face.

“It's not that I don't like you. You've been a cool roommate. She just comes first. She always has, you know that.” Is what I was told when I attempted to call him out on his shit. “Just get another place.”

Like it's so fucking easy to do. I knew there was no way I could stay at the motel forever, but getting an apartment takes weeks if not months, and you have to have a down payment with first month's rent and references and check stubs and.. ugh. I didn't have all that just ready to go, and I didn't have time to figure it out. Even if I did, with the holidays fast approaching, it would extend the wait time.

I know I always try and find the good in the bad, something to focus on to make things not seem as bad as they are, and usually I succeed, but it seemed that as of late, the only good thing happening was that I was saving money, which didn't do me any fucking good now.

They demanded the full $800 up front for the month, non refundable because it was a ‘short notice extended stay’, and gave me the key to a room with a door that didn’t even lock. It hadn’t been cleaned yet, so the bed was a mess, there were no towels, the carpet smelled foul, and there was hell knows what in the trash bins.

As I closed the door behind me, I dropped my bags onto the floor beside the bed, sat down, and for the first time in a long time, cried. Silent, fat tears rolled down my face as I held my head in my hands, wondering what I’d done to deserve having my entire life start to fall apart when I’d finally started to get things together.

Chapter Text

It didn't take long for things to go from awful to absolutely fucking horrid and it, of fucking course, it happened, literally, just a week before Thanksgiving. I hadn't had the chance to spend any time with Sam and Cas since the night I'd spent at their house back in September, though I did at least start texting them again, even Dean, who insisted on having my number. So... at least I wasn't entirely alone.

I did wind up telling Dean, who in turn told Sam and Cas, that I had been living in the motel, and they were... Well, upset doesn't begin to cover it. I’m pretty sure they were down right furious. Not at me, mind you, but at Darren, at the situation, but it was still upsetting.

They offered me a room, tried with all their might to convince me to move in with them, but I couldn't bring myself to take them up on it, or even consider it. I hardly knew them and the last thing I wanted was to put myself in a potentially dangerous situation... or even just wind up being a major burden on them, if that wasn't the case—I doubted it was. They’d been nothing but kind.

I was stubborn to a fault, and kind of paranoid, which they quickly learned, so it didn't take long for them to stop pressing the issue. They'd still just drop an occasional reminder that the offer was still open, but I’d ignore it or change the topic of the conversation to something else.

They took turns stopping by whenever they could (and I was there) to ensure I had food (and if I didn't, they'd bring me something, despite me trying to get them to stop—never worked). As I said, we didn’t really spend time together or hang out, because I was always exhausted, but I was okay and healthy.. for the most part. Most of the time, I was. Again, just exhausted because I’d been pouring all my energy into work to make up for the ridiculous amount of money I was pouring into staying at the motel.

Anyway, as I was saying, things went from awful to fucking horrid a week before Thanksgiving. How? Well...

I was fired.

Yeah. After all my years of 'proving myself' and 'earning my place' within the company, I got fired. Turns out Bellfor sold out to a larger company known as Norton Enterprises and their company policy doesn't allow for anyone under the age of twenty five to work for them, as they considered younger employees to be a liability. My years of experience didn't make a goddamn difference to them and without even a few days notice, I was handed my last paycheck and dismissed.

I didn't know what to do. I just... everything I had worked so hard for was gone. I had nothing left. Nothing. No school, no therapist, no job, no home. My money would eventually run out, especially staying where I was, and I—I didn't know what the hell would happen. I couldn't go 'home'—I'd never be welcome there, which meant... I..

“S-Sam..” I sniffed, hiccuping as I tried to hold in my sobs. Somehow, I'd managed to dial his number. Something I'd never done. I didn't make phone calls, but I couldn't text. I was too upset, I was freaking out, and I just—I needed someone. “C-Can you come g-get me? P-Please?”

I would forever be thankful that he didn't ask any questions. He didn't ask what happened, he didn't ask why. All he said was, “I'll be there as soon as I can.” I ended the call and dropped the phone on the bed beside me, curling up around the pathetically thin and stained pillow I'd been sleeping with.

Sam arrived less than ten minutes later (I was sure he’d sped the whole way) and I must have scared the everlasting fuck out of him when he entered the room because as soon as he walked in, I ran up and wrapped my arms around his torso, clinging to him as I sobbed loudly. I didn't say anything. I couldn't, and he didn't ask questions—just held onto me and rubbed my back, whispering soft, soothing words.

I have no idea how long we stood there like that, but when I finally managed to calm down enough to think semi-straight, I just about flew away from him, slamming into the bed and tumbling back, panic flaring up inside of me, my heart beating a thousand times a minute. “I-I'm sorry—I d-didn't mean--”

“It's alright.” Sam spoke with a soft smile, slowly stepping closer. “I promise, it's alright.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, but didn’t make a move to touch me. “I didn't mind. I'm glad that you trusted me enough to hug me, to let me hug you.” I nodded, sniffling again as I wiped at my face, my sleeve covered in tears and snot. “How about we get your stuff and get out of here? Sound good?”

Gods, yes. That sounded wonderful. I nodded, not even caring that I was losing out on my monthly payment into the dumpy motel, getting up and stumbling around the room. I snatched up things here and there, but it wasn't much. Since I started living at the motel, I'd condensed all of my belongings down to one bag and it was only clothes and my laptop then. I'd sold my books and half my clothes, figuring the less I had, the better. It also meant my belongings were easier to hide, since the doors were far too easy to break into, and less likely that things would be stolen should that happen.

I paused for a moment as I packed—once I left... once I went to their house, there wouldn't be any turning back. They weren't going to let me come back to the motel... Yet somehow, that thought allowed me some relief, and all I was worried about was making sure I had all of my stuff. I went over the room three more times after I finished, just to make sure I had every single thing, before following Sam out to the car.

Dean was sitting in the back seat, waiting patiently, and he offered a small smile as I climbed in beside him. I didn't return the smile, instead pulling my knees up to my chest, leaving my shoes on the floorboard. The drive to their house was quiet, not even the radio on, though Dean placed a hand beside me, not quite touching me, but in an effort to comfort me...

Shaking, I lowered my own hand... and he held onto it, squeezing it gently every now and again.

ooOoo

When we arrived at their house, I was shown to the guest room—a nice, simple room with a twin bed, a small desk and chair, and a dresser. I set my duffel atop said dresser, and once I was alone (which took a bit of convincing, because they didn't want me to be alone), I stripped down to my underwear and curled up on the bed.

I didn't want to sleep. I wasn't tired but... I was still distraught. I needed to be alone, to sort out my thoughts and... well, honestly, I didn't want anyone to see me cry again.

They did leave me alone too, at least for about an hour. A single knock on the door was all the warning I was given before Dean entered the room. I cracked a single eye open, seeing him carrying... something? From the smell, I figured it had to be food. “Hey.” I looked up at him, but didn't say anything, making a move to wipe my eyes for any stray tears. “I know you're probably not hungry... but you think you could try to eat? We don't want you to get sick.”

He was right in me not being hungry, but if they were worried enough to actually bring me food, I’d feel bad turning it down… So I let out a shaky breath and pushed myself up and into a sitting position. Dean sat the food down on the dresser, pulling a TV tray out of the closet and setting it up in front of the bed. The food was then moved to the tray, and the desk chair was sat beside it. Since the bed sat low to the floor, Dean was about eye level with me that way.

When he sat, he picked the bowl up, scooping up a spoonful of its contents and held it out to me. I scooted closer to him, at the edge of the bed so it wouldn't spill, and took the spoon into my mouth, swallowing down the warm liquid. It was a chicken broth, light and easy to digest, and it tasted wonderful. I had no objections to allowing Dean to feed me the entire bowl. There was a cup as well, with a lid and straw, filled with water, and I sipped at it every few spoonfuls.

As both were emptied, I sighed contentedly, my stomach filled. “It's late, so go ahead and get some sleep, okay?” I nodded, letting out a yawn. The food did a good job of settling me down, which allowed the exhaustion to really take over. I turned and crawled up to the headboard, lying on my stomach as I wrapped myself around the pillow. The blanket was tugged up over me before Dean left the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

Before I drifted off completely though, I heard him talking.. to someone..

“He let me feed him, Daddy.” Dean sounded excited, happy. But Daddy? Who was--

“That's good, sweetheart. You did a wonderful job.” Cas. Cas? “Let's let him get some rest, okay? Hopefully tomorrow he'll feel better.”

The word 'daddy' rolled around in my head, the childlike inflection to Dean's voice repeating it over and over. It left me confused, curious, but I was out moments after that, unsure if what I had heard had actually happened, or if it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

ooOoo

The next couple of days were... well, for lack of better term, a blur. I slept a lot, only waking up to eat or shower, almost falling asleep while doing so. I wound up taking a lot of impromptu naps throughout the day, in various parts of the house. The kitchen, the sofa, the floor—pretty much, if I didn't have food and sat down for more than a couple of minutes, I was out.

They didn't seem to mind—Cas having said something about my body catching up on all the sleep it'd missed the last couple of months, and so long as I ate every once in a while, all was good to go. I did have to have someone help me eat a few times, though they didn't seem to mind that either. Dean seemed thrilled by the idea. Maybe they thought it was cute or something? I dunno.

Two days before Thanksgiving, I was feeling a fair bit better, able to actually stay awake for more than twenty minutes at a time (naps still happened, but were able to be planned), and I even started trying to help out around the house. That though was an effort always thwarted by Sam or Cas. “If you want to help, concentrate on getting better.” is what they kept telling me.

But... since I was definitely doing a bit better, they wanted to know what had happened. I still hadn't told them, but seeing as my phone hadn't made a sound since the day Sam picked me up, they had a pretty good idea. So, as we sat at the kitchen table for breakfast one morning, I held a cup of hot tea in my hands, sipping at it as I worked up to telling them everything that had been going on. I hated doing this. It was hard enough telling a professional my problems. Telling them to friends was borderline painful.

“Well... you already know most of it... I shared an apartment with Darren, went to work, went to therapy. That was.. kind of it, other than the time I spent with you guys.” I sighed. “Couple months ago, my therapist left the state. After that, work got crazy because people kept getting fired, so I had to forgo going back to school...” I took a gulp of tea. “Darren kicked me out so Emily could move in. And last week...” Deep breath. “I.. they fired me.” I didn't look up to see their reaction. “They sold out to a bigger company and policy changes meant I couldn't work there anymore.

I just... I've been working so, so hard to keep afloat and I was finally doing good! Then everything just fell the fuck apart.” Tears were coming now and I couldn't stop them. “I—I didn't know what else to do. I'm.. I'm so scared and I'm broken and I didn't... didn't want to be alone—I know I should never have bothered you guys with any of this stuff. It's my stupid life and you barely know me and I should just be a man and deal with it but being strong all the time is so hard.” Sniffling, I wiped my eyes. “I-I'm really sorry f-for bother you guys with this—If you w-want me to leave, I will, I--”

“No.” Cas cut me off, shaking his head. “No, of course we don't want you to leave. I'm going to be completely honest with you, okay?” I nodded, hiccuping softly. “We want you to stay here with us. I know we haven't known each other for very long, but right now, what you need is a stable home, people who care about you. It kills me to know you've been on your own for so long, working as hard as you have. I'm proud of you for being so strong, especially with how young you are. But what we want, all of us, is for you to be happy and healthy. We've all talked it over, even Dean, and we agree that here is the best place for you. We won't force you to stay, but know that if you want...”

Finally, I looked up, staring at him for a long, long few minutes. He smiled softly, gently placing a hand over my own. “I-I... if... if you're sure..” My voice was soft as I spoke, but they all could hear me, “but.. but only until I f-find another job, okay? I can’t… I can’t rely on other people forever.” No one could, that was life, but being forced to rely on anyone, it didn’t… sit right with me. It was something drilled into my head from a young age. They nodded though, seemingly accepting my terms, and that was that.

I would stay with them until I found another job, then I'd start looking into apartments, and when I had the money and resources, I'd move out and they could go back about their lives. We could still hang out, be friends, but I wouldn’t be their problem.

That sounded good, right? Right.

Chapter Text

Thanksgiving was… definitely not one of my favourite holidays, and not one that I typically celebrated. In fact, I hadn’t actually attempted to celebrate it since I’d lived back with my parents. Reason one being that I didn’t have any friends or family in town to celebrate with. Reason two being that I almost always had to work the day before, day of, and day after. Reason three was simply because I just couldn’t fucking cook and there was no point in spending a bunch of money on good food that I would ruin.

My new hosts though? All for it, in 100%, especially Cas and Sam. They already had just about all of their supplies in regards to décor (and yes, they decorated the house in a ‘fall’ theme, with pumpkins, scarecrows, the fake leaves) and food, though Dean and I were booted out for a bit of ‘last minute’ shopping. I wasn’t too happy about that, but the store we ended up at wasn’t crowded, so I just sucked it up and dealt with it… Dean even got me a bag of skittles with his own cash at the checkout for dealing well with the trip, under the condition that I not tell Sam.

When we returned, they were putting the finishing touches on their desserts and ‘fixing’ a few of the decorations, though I didn’t see anything wrong, but that was Cas—OCD. I attempted to offer to help with something, anything, during the process, but was told I wasn’t allowed to help, unless it was helping Dean with something. It still counted as helping, I guess, but Dean was barely given any real tasks to do too, which meant I didn’t have anything to do.

But they kept saying “our house, our rules”, with big smiles on their faces, and there was nothing I could do about it. So the day before said holiday was… a rather lazy day, aside from that bit of shopping. We watched a couple of movies, talked about random topics like cars, that I didn’t understand most of but was happy to listen to him just talk about, with how excited he got, woodworking, that Dean didn’t understand, but was happy to listen to me ramble on about, and just other stuff we were interested in. Cas and Sam were more than happy to see us getting along.

When morning did roll around on Thanksgiving day, I wasn’t in any real hurry to get up. I’d woken up way too early, for one, and the bed that I was using was very soft, very warm, and even if I did wind up somehow sliding off and onto the floor a number of times, I loved it.

Unfortunately, the urge to pee hit me pretty hard once my brain started to come online, so I snatched up my glasses and made my way out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom—sounds from the living room and kitchen telling me everyone else was definitely already up.

Feeling much better, I headed for the living room clad in only briefs and a tee-shirt, which seemed to be typical early morning fashion in this house, and they kept the heater warm enough that the low fall temperatures didn’t bother us much.

The television was on, I heard it as I approached, which I found kind of odd since none of them really seemed to watch it aside from the occasional movie night b—oh, right, Thanksgiving. Football. That was a thing people watched, right?

Granted, it didn’t sound like football. It actually sounded a lot more like… cartoons. “Timmy, no! What’re you doing?!” Yeah, cartoons.

The Fairly Odd Parents, to be specific.

Dean was sitting in the living room, on the floor in front of the coffee table, watching cartoons while wearing Batman pajamas (and not typical adult Batman pajamas—these were black pants with yellow elastic leg gathers, and a shirt that was kind of a cartoon-y detailed version of the suit, complete with cape). In his hands was a bowl of colourful cereal, and to his side sat a Batman sippy cup.

Still rather tired, and not at all able to process the scene before me, I decided to just brush it off. I mean, everyone had their likes, dislikes, preferences, whatever, so it wasn’t my place to judge him for this either way. He wants to watch cartoons while dressed like Batman? More power to him.

It seemed I’d been staring for a bit too long though, as Dean looked over at me, grinning with a mouthful of cereal. I gave a small smile back, shuffling over so that I could sit down beside him. He swallowed, then turned to me, “Wanna bite?” He held up a spoonful of cereal, trying to keep it steady as milk dripped off, back into the bowl.

With a small shrug, I opened my mouth and accepted the sugary pebbles, blushing a bit as the milk dribbled out of my mouth. Immediately, I wiped at it with my shirt, just for him to offer me another bite. I wanted to tell him no, because it was his food, and I could eat later, but his eyes looked so big and innocent and… ugh, goddamnit, I can’t resist the puppy eyes.

Sighing, I relented, and just as before, milk escaped my mouth, though I didn’t catch it that time—it dripped down and onto my freaking leg. Ew.

‘Breakfast’ continued that way, with him giving me a bite, then taking one for himself, until the entire thing was gone. He seemed quite happy with that, and set the bowl on the table before picking up his sippy cup. Of course, he offered that to me as well, and I really tried to resist, but his puppy eyes got me again, and I took it and tried to take a drink.

Tried being the word there. Whatever he had inside didn’t want to come out, even when I tilted it all the way up, so I gave the spout a hard suck… which didn’t work out in my favour, as the pressure caused the juice to shoot out so hard that it surprised me, and I pulled the cup away, getting a face full of purple juice.

I nearly dropped the cup, barely managing to hand it back to him as I took my glasses off and wiped myself off with my shirt. “You’re gonna hafta change now.” He was right, of course. With my shirt being white of all colours, the purple was all too visible, and I’d be lucky if it didn’t stain. “Don’ worry! You can borrow one of mine ‘til yours is clean again.”

“I—er--that’s okay. I have another shirt..” At my words, Dean pouted. Like, actually pouted. Cheeks puffed out, bottom lip protruding, arms over his chest as he stared at me. “B-but I bet it’s not as cool as yours!” Quick recovery, as his pout went away immediately and he was grinning. “Can I see it?” No words as he jumped up and ran off down the hall, likely to his room.

I sighed. What did I get myself into?

I nearly jumped as he plopped back down right next to me only a minute later, holding a black shirt in his hands. “Arms up!” Wait, huh? Oh, he uh… wanted to help. Right, okay. Doing as he requested, I held up my arms, and he, very carefully, tugged off my dirty shirt, keeping the juice stains away from my face. Then, the new shirt was slid on. It was way too big, but it was his, and hey, it was still better than being wet. “There! Now we match!”

I wiped off my glasses with a clean part of my shirt, then slid them back on so that I could see what he put on me. Hah, we did match. The shirt he’d put on me was also a Batman one, though unlike his extra decorated, caped pajama shirt, this one just had the Batman logo with the words “Caped Crusader” on it. It was still cool, though.

Cas happened to walk in at that moment, and smiled down at us. “Now, what happened here?”

Dean turned his grin up at Cas, practically wiggling with excitement. “Chris hadda accident with my sippy and got juice all over himself so I got him one of my shirts to wear till his is clean. I even made sure it was black jus’ in case, so that if he has another accident, it won’t stain.” He sounded so proud of what he’d done, and by the look on Cas’ face, he was proud of what Dean had done too—he even reached down to ruffle his hair.

“That was very kind of you, De. You’re being such a good boy, sharing with him.”

“O’course Imma share with him, Daddy! He’s my friend!” Wait, Daddy? Alrighty then, that meant that what I’d heard on my first night was definitely, 100% real. Dean calls Cas ‘Daddy’. Dean also dresses and acts like a little kid when they’re at home. Pretty sure I’d read something about this before… “Can we play with my cars? Pleeeaaase?”

Cas nodded, glancing over at me as he spoke. “Yes you may, but you have to play in here, and only until it’s time to get dressed, okay?” Dean nodded, happy with that. “Would you like me to get them for you?”

“Nuh-uh. I can get ‘em.” Once again, Dean was up and off, headed down the hall. I looked up at Cas, confusion clearly written on my face.

This was… normal for them. This was their life, which meant that Sam was definitely involved in this dynamic as well, though I couldn’t be entirely sure of what part he might play. If I had to base a guess solely on his personality, I’d go with ‘Mama’… and at that, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.

At my look though, Cas just winked and made his way back to the kitchen, leaving me to wait alone while Dean, or ‘De’, as he seemed to be in this case, was off gathering his toys. It didn’t take him very long to return, and when he did, his arms were full of toy cars of all shapes and sizes, various brands—some made for much younger kids all the way up to your typical metal collectible hot-wheels. Seems he had a bit of everything, which wasn’t surprising. Dean was a car fanatic through and through, whether he was acting like an adult or a kid.

Dean slowly got back onto the floor, carefully dumping out all his cars in one pile before beginning to separate them, “We’re gonna play a game.” A game? Wait, we? He wanted me to play with him? “These cars are gonna be the cops, okay? They chase the bad guys, which are gonna be these cars.” There was no set pattern to which ones were which, aside from where he was putting them. “These are the firemen, and they helps the cops when the bad guys set fires and cause accidents.”

I couldn’t do anything more than listen as he went on, setting the multitude of cars in various sections, lining them up next to each other. “Uh.. but… what..”

Whether it was because he didn’t hear me trying to interrupt to ask exactly what was supposed to happen here, or he was just that into what he was doing, he continued on, “So you can be the bad guys, which are all those cars. You can make ‘em do all the bad stuffs you want, just nothin’ too bad, ‘kay? And I’ll be the cops and the firefighters tryin’ to stop you and rescue people.”

That… sounded simple enough, but I couldn’t say I was exactly comfortable with his game, or just the idea of this in general. I hadn’t played with toys since I was a baby myself, before my sister was born, and now Dean wanted to just… play, like it was a normal everyday thing. Which, for him it might be, but…

Okay, I couldn’t overthink this. It was easy. Dean had already started—and it seemed like he was just pushing the cars around and making noises, playing around like the ‘cops’ were looking for the bad guys. At my hesitation, he looked up at me with an encouraging smile, and I took a deep breath.

I could do this. It was easy. Just a game. Just a silly game with toys, playing with a friend. It was easy. I could do it. No problem at all, what-so-ever. Got it.

Chapter Text

Yeah, so, I couldn’t do it. I tried, I really really tried, but I just couldn’t do it. Kind of pathetic, right? It was such a simple game—just push the cars around, make little car noises, and pretend to be a ‘bad guy’. It was a kids game!… And I failed, spectacularly. I managed to get myself to at least push around the cars a bit, and even made some ‘vroom’ noises for about two minutes, but then I had a tiny little bit of mental panic and that was it. Done. Over and out.

Dean didn’t seem to mind too much, though he did pout at me when I told him I wasn’t in the mood to play. I just… needed a break, needed to clear my head. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay? I… I’m going to see if they need any help in the kitchen.” That would be a good place to calm myself—tedious stuff like that always helped me keep my cool at work.

“Pffft.” Dean giggled, sticking his tongue out at me. “S’no way Daddy’s gonna let you help. Papa prolly isn’t even letting him help.”

“You’re probably right.” I gave him a small smile, and a wink. “But they don’t quite know how stubborn I am, so we’ll see.” That made him giggle louder and as I stood, I looked down at him… Though I hesitated for a moment, I reached down to ruffle his hair, making him grin wide before turning back to his game.

Happy with my decision, I headed for the kitchen, where Cas and Sam were working diligently to get things ready for… well, with how early they’d started, I assumed lunch. May family had done it the same way. Have all the food ready for lunch, eat, hang out, leftovers for dinner… and the next two or three days.

Anyhow, they were working at it-- Cas setting up the table and, again, touching up décor, while Sam worked at the stove, cooking like four things at once with numerous other creations spread across the counter tops. They were already dressed for the day as well, looking pretty well put together, and to my amusement, when Cas got anywhere near the food, Sam gave him this ‘look’ and he’d whistle innocently and scoot away.

I may have accidentally let out a small giggle at that, which brought their attention to me. “Good morning!” Sam spoke up first, smiling wide as he set his oven mitts down. “You sleep alright?”

Nodding, I rubbed the back of my head, a little embarrassed. “I think I fell off the bed once or twice, but I slept great otherwise.” I laughed as I said it, because it really didn’t bother me. I fell out of bed at the apartment too—moved a lot in my sleep. Honestly, if not for how comfortable the bed was and my great need to take advantage of it, I’d have just slept on the floor in a blanket burrito. “Oh, uh, right… I wanted to ask… is there anything you need help with? Anything I can do?”

Cas chuckled, “Ah ah, we told you—the kitchen is our territory, especially today. You, mister, can march right back into the living room and play with De.” Really not wanting to do that again, at least not yet, I decided to try something I hadn’t done in years. I mean, Dean’s puppy eyes worked all too well on me, and when I was little, actually little, mine worked damn well, so maybe if I tried it now…

I shuffled over to Cas, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt and biting my bottom lip as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Please, Cas? I just want to help…”

I could see his resolve fade, quickly, and he sighed, but still smiled. “Ooooh, alright, alright. Fine. You can cut up those vegetables for Sam.” I grinned, taking that as a win for me and plopped down at the table. Cas placed the cutting board, knives, and an array of vegetables (carrots, cucumbers, potatoes, tomatoes, red onions), fruit (apples, pears, and grapes), and cheese (I know nothing of cheeses) in front of me, and I gave all of it a quick look over.

“How do you want all of it cut?”

This time, Sam spoke up. “The potatoes are for cream potatoes. The onion, cucumber, carrot, and tomato for a salad. The fruits and cheese are for a snack tray, so however you think is best.” Ah, vague but easy enough—that meant he trusted my judgment, which was nice seeing as I had years of prep work under my belt.

I chopped and cubed, sliding and placing piles of finished ingredients into bowls being provided by Cas, who was watching me the entire time. “I may not be able to cook,” I spoke up, never taking my eyes off the knife in my hand, “But at this, I am a pro.” It was also very calming, to be doing it at my own pace, to help people who cared, and not being yelled at or rushed or told ‘don’t fuck up’.

As I finished, the cutting instruments were taken to the sink and Cas assisted me in properly separating everything—potatoes into a bowl of water to boil, a large salad (they had a pre-mixed bag of greens to go with the things I chopped), and a beautifully organized fruit and cheese tray. With a triumphant smile, I slid out of my chair and went to the sink to wash my hands. “Thanks a lot for the help, Chris.” Sam smiled down at me, and my own grew… until he spoke again. “Could you do me a favour now, though? While Cas and I finish up in here, could you help De get dressed? If someone doesn’t get his little butt in gear, he’ll spend the entire day in his jammies.”

Ayup, just like that, smile gone, but still, I nodded, holding in a sigh and forcing back my anxiety as I wiped my hands on my shirt. “Uh.. yeah, sure. I can try.” Try being the operative word there. With a silent gulp, I trailed back to the living room, seeing that Dean was somehow still entranced with his cars, though now they were scattered everywhere, and he was zooming one around the entire carpet in front of the TV. “Hey, uh,” Oh, man, what were they calling him in this… mode(?)… “De?” There we go, that got his attention.

His head snapped up and he looked at me with questioning eyes and a huge grin. “You’re back! You was gone for a while. Does that mean Daddy and Papa really let you help in the kitchen?”

I let out a soft laugh and nodded. “Yeah. I helped cut up a bunch of stuff for them.” If he was acting like a kid, keeping my sentences simple seemed like a better idea. I knew he was still an adult but… if I couldn’t handle playing games, I could at least do small things like that. “But I’m done now and your uh… Papa said that it’s time to get dressed.” At that, Dean stuck out his lip and pouted, huffing.

“Dun wanna. Issa holiday so I wanna stay in my jammies.”

Well, shit.

My experience with kids in general was none, so you can only imagine how much experience I had with adults acting like kids. My ‘simple sentence’ thing was a one-shot. But, I was decent at improvising, or at least I liked to think so. “But it’s Thanksgiving, which… which means you’ll be eating lots of yummy foods.” If nothing else, I had his undivided attention. Good. “You don’t want to get your super cool Batman jammies all dirty, do you?”

Dean’s eyes suddenly went wide and he shook his head, “Nuh-uh!” Yes! Progress. Can we score a second win this morning?

“Then how about we go find you something else? Something just as cool that can handle getting dirty, like this awesome shirt you let me borrow?” With a happy nod, Dean hopped up to his feet, allowing him to tower over me. With that, I had two wins, and was officially happy that I’d turned the morning around.

Dean grabbed my hand and led me down to his own room, which, up until now, I realized I hadn’t actually seen. My first thought was ‘wow’ and my second was ‘that is a LOT of Batman’.

The room, and I mean the entire room, was decorated like it was for an actual kid. A kid absolutely obsessed with Batman, but a kid none-the-less. The bed was an adult sized toddler-style bed, with bed rails built into it, painted black with Batman sheets, blanket, and pillow cases. There were even two large stuffed toys resting near the headboard–a Batmobile and a large dog. The curtains were Batman the lamp was Batman–pretty much, anywhere and everywhere Batman could be, there he was, in some form or another.

As I took in the sight, amazed and curious, Dean had already began digging through his closet for something—ah, right, clothes. That’s why we were here.

“Chriiiiiis.” He suddenly whined and looked over at me. “I need helps. I can’t decide what to wear.” Nodding, a smile started to form on my fa– “I wanna look the bestest for when everyone comes over!” And the smile retreats.

“Y-yeah. Sure, De.” The prospect of company wasn’t something that I’d thought about, though really should have expected (Thanksgiving was a big family holiday after all), and I was slammed immediately with a barrage of anxiety and panic that I was definitely not prepared to deal with.

Doing my best to push it back, I took a deep breath and went over to Dean, quietly sifting through his clothes. There were overalls, jeans, tee-shirts with cute designs, button up shirts–but I couldn’t really focus on what I was looking at. 

I took another deep breath and tried to shake away what was happening in my head, focus on the task at hand… and not on the fact that I’d be spending the afternoon that I’d spent alone for years with not just a couple of friends, but their guests. Their friends and family. People I didn’t know, people who would want to talk, ask questions. Who would want to shake hands and hug and be friendly. People I wouldn’t know how to handle or respond to.

Shit. Fucking shit. Fuck. Damnit.

I wanted to hide. I needed to get the hell out and hide somewhere no one could find me until everything was done and over, and hope they wouldn’t kick me out for ruining their big, family fun day.

I tried to calm myself down, tried to say it wouldn’t be that bad, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. My breathing quickened, my throat and chest tightened. It felt like I couldn’t breathe at all. Everything around me swirled in a cyclone of colour, then darkness. It wasn’t until someone’s arms wrapped around me and I sucked in a hard, quick breath that I realized I had passed out. 

I couldn’t tell where I was, but I knew I was shaking, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see.

“Chris.” A voice. A voice I knew. Familiar. Familiar was good. “It’s okay Chris. You’re okay. Shhh, you’re safe.” Cas. It was Cas. Definitely Cas. My brain started to, very slowly, put things back into place. I was at Sam and Cas’ house. I was in Dean’s room. We had been looking at… Oh, fuck, Dean. I probably scared the shit out of him. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, I nodded. “Do you know where you are?” Another slow nod. “Can you speak?” At that one, I shook my head and the tears started to fall.

They poured down my cheeks as I sobbed, still shaking as I tried to wrap my arms around myself. Cas wouldn’t let me though, rearranging me in his lap, so I wrapped my arms around him instead, squeezing as tightly as I could. In return, he hugged me close, one hand holding onto me while the other rubbed my back.

“D-Daddy–Cas–I–I didn’t–is he… is he?”

“He’ll be alright. I think he might just be overwhelmed by everything that’s going on today. It’s not your fault, I promise.”

“Is… Is there anything I can do?”

It went silent then, though that could have simply been my mind tuning them out, but it was only moments before another body surrounded my own, hands running through my hair, and I started picking up on sounds again–I couldn’t make out what they were, but they were gentle… It was… warm. I was in this cocoon of just… warmth. It was comforting, loving and I felt… I felt safe.

Though I can’t be sure of how much time passed, my mind did eventually start to calm. Unfortunately, the moment I reached the point of calmness where I could think semi-coherently, I freaked out in a different way. I broke free of the ‘cocoon of safety’, bolting out of the Dean’s room and down to my temporary one. My first (and frankly, only, in that moment) instinct was to pack up my meager belongings and make a run for it because there was no way they were going to put up with me now.

They’d known a little before, yeah, but that was a first hand taste of how messed up I actually was, and once they started to see, once those dots connected, they w–

Knock knock knock.

The sound was soft, but it still nearly caused me to jump out of my skin, a low whimper escaping me. “Chris?” Dean. Oh, man, it was Dean. I didn’t want to see him. I couldn’t. Not after that. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to come in, but I uh… I just… I wanted to apologize.” Wait, what? Apologize? Why would he want to apologize? He didn’t do anything. Unless… unless he thought this was because of his ‘little kid’ thing? That because he just pulled me into his bubble of… whatever that was, he had somehow freaked me out? But that wasn’t it! I’d just… I got trapped in my own head, thinking too much about the wrong things, about my own stupid stuff. I’m just so broken and– “This might be a little… odd for you, but I have something that… It might help.”

Help? What could he have…? Taking off my glasses to wipe my face, I took in a slow breath, “Y.. You can come in.” The door opened, slowly, and Dean entered. I kept my glasses off, since they needed to be cleaned, as did my face, but I imagined he looked as upset as I felt, from the sound of his voice.

“Do you trust me?” Without even thinking about it, I nodded. “Okay, I want you to sit on the bed first.” Another nod, and I turned, scooting closer so that I could sit, making myself comfortable. After a moment, he sat next to me. “Close your eyes.” That one made me nervous, but I said I trusted him, so I did as asked. “Now uhm… open your mouth.” I almost went ‘NOPE’ at that, but I trusted Dean. I 100% trusted him.

He wouldn’t hurt me. None of them were. These were my friends and I was safe. I. Was. Safe.

So, though I hesitated, I did what he asked. Once my mouth was open, he placed something inside and… it was… squishy? Kind of like rubber, but it didn’t have a distinct taste. The shape was… odd, kind of like a bulb, but partly flat? Curious, I began softly chewing on the foreign object, trying to figure out what the heck it was.

My attention became so focused on that, that my tears stopped entirely, and not long after, my breathing returned to normal, the thoughts running through my brain slowed and the negativity kind of… retreated back to the dark corners of my mind.

I was calm. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d calmed down that fast, not from a panic attack.

Sniffling, I wiped the remnants of my tears off my face, looking up at Dean. “Do you feel better?” I nodded, hiccuping softly. “Like I said… I… I wanted to say I’m sorry.” He sighed, his fists clenching in his lap. “We… We felt that since you’re staying here, we should make it clear early on what our uh… lifestyle is, but I guess we should have gone with Sam’s idea.” Dean scoffed, running a hand down his face. “He wanted to sit you down, talk things out, explain it all. But I thought, maybe… I’m so stupid, I’m sorry that I freaked you out an–”

“Dinnit.” The word came out weird, jumbled, thanks to the object in my mouth, but I wasn’t quite ready to take it out… not yet. It was working wonders at keeping me level. “Ahm jus’ b’oken.” I sighed out through my nose, and he didn't ask what I meant. “‘Ean?” Dean looked down at me. “Wasin’ mah mouf?”

At my question, he blushed brightly and looked away. “Well, it used to be mine… but I don’t use them anymore.” Use… them? “They used to help me when I got really upset or… had my own anxiety attacks, so I hoped…”

Considering what I’d already witnessed, the gears turned fast in my head, and then I was the one blushing. “Soofer.” Hesitant, he nodded, nervously glancing at me to gauge my reaction. Understandable–he’d already thought I was upset about him being, well… himself. “Fank ‘oo.” I could tell he was confused, but he was smiling a little. I wasn’t going to get mad about it. Sure, it wasn’t anything I would have expected, but it did what it was meant to. It had helped me calm down by giving me something to focus on that wasn’t destructive in any way. 

Granted, it being a soother, pacifier, whatever they would have called it, meant it wasn’t really for chewing, but it worked either way.

“May I come in?” That would be Cas, whose head was peeking in the doorway. I nodded, though not wanting him to see what I had in my mouth (even though it was highly likely he already knew), I lowered my head. It.. it was a little embarrassing. “I can see you’ve calmed–are you feeling better now?” I nodded again, fidgeting with my shirt.

I did feel better, a lot better, aside from the typical after effects of my panic attacks coming to the surface. They weren’t anything bad, but they weren’t things I was going to voice either. I’d dealt with not being able to have them for a long time, and though these three (because Sam would definitely be up for it too) would happily oblige my needs, I couldn’t… ask that. What were the effects? An ungodly need for love. Attention, affection, hugs, cuddling, consoling. Being told I’m good. Being reassured that I’m not as screwed up as I was.

But, as I said, I lived with not having that for a long time, and I wasn’t going to be mentioning any of that to them anytime soon. Or ever, if possible.

Cas walked over to us, taking a seat beside me, opposite Dean, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. “I wanted to come speak with you both. Dean, as I told you, and I’m sure Chris has said, what happened was not your fault.” I nodded, again, confirming that. “Chris, I understand why you’re feeling anxious, and it’s alright. We aren’t going to make you do anything that you aren’t comfortable with. I’m sorry we didn’t discuss this with you sooner, but yes, we do have some family coming over today.” Yep, he knew exactly what was up, which didn’t surprise me. “You may take some comfort in the fact that they are all people you’ve met before, albeit briefly, and they all know about our lifestyle. I also spoke with everyone about you–I didn’t tell them anything personal, but I let them know that you’re staying with us, and to ask before trying to initiate any sort of physical contact.”

Well… that… Oh, wow. Just. Wow. That actually made me way, way better about the entire situation. I had to admit I was still nervous about meeting, or rather, re-meeting their family, seeing as I wasn’t clued in to exactly who would be showing up or how many people… but what he did… I didn’t know how I’d thank him for that. I settled on looking up at him, smiling around the soother in my mouth, and he grinned down at me.

“There we go. I’m happy to see you smiling again.” And cue the blushing. “Now, how about I help both of you get dressed? After that, maybe Dean will be up for giving you a proper tour of the house while we wait for everyone to arrive.”

Chapter Text

We, and by we, I mostly mean Cas, helped Dean get dressed, and he took the time to actually tell me about the family members that would be coming over. While he wouldn’t give me their names, saying he wanted it to be a surprise, he did provide me with a fair bit of interesting information.

It seemed that it was Cas’ family that had gotten them into this lifestyle, into the whole Daddy and little boy thing. Or, generally, it was just caregiver and little, but since they were all guys, it was daddy and little boy. Their family had daddies, uncles, big brothers, little boys, little girls… pretty much people all over the board.

It started off as just Dean and Cas (who had apparently briefly dated, but decided they didn’t really ‘fit’ that way and would rather just have the Daddy/Little relationship), but when Sam found out, he wanted to be involved too. Dean wasn’t originally comfortable with having his own brother play a fatherly role in his life, but long story short, it ended up working out better than any of them imagined, which led to Cas and Sam getting together.

As for their family, everyone that was coming had their own role in some way that was related to theirs; a ‘parental’ figure and a ‘little’. So, while I didn’t get names, as I was told they were ‘people I knew’, which told me nothing because I didn’t really know anyone other than my old roommate and co-workers. What I managed to gather from that was they were all 100% comfortable with all of what would be going on and…

The house was going to be overrun by giant children.

Now, while I was getting dressed in “boring grown up clothes” as Dean put it, Cas did reassure me that if at any point I didn’t feel comfortable around them or started to get overwhelmed, I was welcome to leave–go back to my own room or step outside and no one would bother me, that no one would be upset.

Dean piped up and said he’d come check on me though, which got him a stern look from Cas, which just made him stick his tongue out. I laughed softly at them both, shaking my head.

“Alright, I think we just need one more thing and you two will officially be ready for the day. Just wait right here while I go fetch it.” Dean and I looked at one another, confused, as Cas left my room. 

Dean did look pretty cute–Cas made him put on a pullup, and I had to hide my face in embarrassment when I caught a glimpse of his butt, but over that was a pair of jeans with patches on the knees and a green tee shirt, a firetruck right in the middle with the words ‘Lil Soaker’ in bold white text above it. I gave him a small smile and he returned it with a grin.

“Y’know, I wish you fit my clothes better. You’d be super cute in my little stuff.” A blush lit up my face and I looked away. “Though all dressed up, you do look good. Stiiiillll like a boring grown up, though.” He laughed, and now it was my turn to stick my tongue out at him.

“Careful, Dean, or I might tell Cas you’re being mean. Wouldn’t want to be put in time out on Thanksgiving, would you?” I didn’t even know if that was a viable threat, but his eyes widened and then narrowed.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Huh, so I guess it was. That made me grin. “Try me and we’ll se–”

At that moment, Cas returned to the room, looking between us with a raised eyebrow. “I hope you two were behaving yourselves.” Neither of us said anything, though we were still glancing at each other with the ‘I dare you’ looks… for a minute, until I turned my attention to Cas’ hand, remembering he’d gone to retrieve something. I couldn’t tell what he was holding though. “I thought this might come in handy, and I will not be taking no for an answer, so I don’t want any fussing.”

That had me a little worried, especially when he approached me instead of Dean. The soother was removed from my pocket and I averted my gaze, still embarrassed about not only using it, but… holding onto it. “Oh, you got him a clip! That way he won’t lose it, right Daddy?”

“That’s right.” A… soother clip? Okay, I had to peek… and yeah, he was attaching a strap of fabric to the handle of the soother, snapping it on before tucking it back into my chest pocket, then a plastic clip was attached to the collar of my shirt. “Now you’ll always have it with you and be able to access it easily.” It… It was pretty cute, though it had to have come from Dean’s room, as it was Batman themed, just like most of his other things.

“Wait, but–Cas, everyone–e-everyone’s going to b-be able to see and–”

“And they won’t say a word. As I told you, everyone coming over knows everything about us already, and while they also know you aren’t quite involved as we are, everyone has their own coping methods for stress, anxiety–no one will say anything. I promise. And if they do, I can assure you, it would be one of the little ones and they would be promptly and properly reprimanded for it.” I looked up at him, trying to pull off the same ‘puppy eyes’ I’d used in the kitchen, but– “That won’t work this time, Chris. I told you, I’m not taking no for an answer.” Cas smiled gently, “Now, how about you two get on with that tour while I go and finish helping Sam? We still have a little bit of time before everyone is set to arrive.”

“‘Kay, Daddy! I’ll give him the bestest tour ever!” Dean grinned, “And I promise we’ll be good and not dig in anything we’re not s’posed to or make any messes.”

Cas walked over to pull Dean into a hug, ruffling his hair a little, “That’s my good boy. Now, off you go. Have fun and behave yourselves.” 

Dean looked at me and nodded. With a soft sigh, I trailed after him as he left the room, heading down the hall… right into his. Somehow I wasn’t too surprised that he wanted to start with his own, but the moment we stepped inside, it seemed like a switch was flipped and he was back in his adult mindset. 

He sighed. “I know this is probably a lot, and… I’m sorry.” I just looked at him, kind of confused. “You’re kind of stuck doing this Thanksgiving stuff with us and a bunch of people you don’t really know, and we’re going full well… ageplay mode on you.” Ah, ageplay. There we go. That’s what it was called. I hadn’t been able to recall the word myself. “That’s not fair on you, and if it’s too much, I can go talk to Sam and Cas and you can just stay in your room the whole time.”

I walked over to him and didn’t even hesitate to place a hand on his arm. “Dean, it’s… Well, not entirely okay, but it’s got nothing to do with the holiday itself or you guys. It is 99% the idea of having to deal with people I don’t know. When it was work, I had a very specific mindset I would put myself in to deal with strangers, but this isn’t like that and I can’t turn on ‘customer service mode’ for.. Friends.” I sighed then too. “Look, it’s okay. If I can’t handle it, I’ll just step out for a bit. Cas said that I’ve met them before, and that alone makes things better so I promise you, it’s fine.” He bit his lip, and I realized he must have been thinking about… what happened. “I… freaked you out, didn’t I? When I… earlier.”

There was a soft nod, then a head shake, “Not that, exactly. I was… just kind of scared, I think? I have them too. Not like that anymore, not as bad as I used to. I know how it feels, and thinking it was my fault…” Dean shook his head again. “I just don’t want to see you go through that again. Not because of me, because of us.”

“Dean, look at me.” He did so and I smiled up at him. “You’re the reason I came down as fast as I did, okay? If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be curled up and crying in a corner somewhere. Today was the first time someone’s comforted me in years. So even if it happens again, and it probably will over one thing or another because I…” I cut myself off, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole, “because they just do sometimes, I know I have you to help. You and Cas and Sam. So it’ll be okay. So, c’mon, enough talk about that for now. You owe me a proper house tour after all, and I absolutely need an explanation for your Batman obsession.”

Dean sighed again, but this one was much lighter, full of relief, and he smiled, “Fine fine. First, Batman is awesome. Absolutely the best superhero ever.” I snorted while trying to hold in my laughter, and he side-eyed me before continuing. “I actually didn’t really want to have a full “little” room when I first started playing. I’m not little all the time, y’know, so I was worried how it would work if I was this… open about it all.” He reached up, rubbing his neck nervously. “From an outsider's point of view, all of this is weird as hell. I mean, I have a toddler bed, a toy chest, Batman shit everywhere. So I was constantly thinking ‘what if someone finds out’ or… ‘what if one day someone changes their mind and doesn’t want to do this anymore’.”

Those… I could easily understand those worries. I had to worry about certain secrets about myself being found out, things that could potentially ruin me, my life, if the information got into the wrong hands. And for as being worried about their uh… dynamic changing, I couldn’t relate directly, having never been in that sort of situation, but families could and did change. People could turn on you or you can learn that they don't love you how you thought they did or… Okay, not about me. This wasn’t about me.

But, I understood what he meant, anyway.

"But over time, I kind of realized that I preferred it this way. Even if I'm not always "De", coming home from work or even just a stressful day, when I'm as far from littlespace as possible… coming home to something so innocent and comforting… something safe. It made all that stress melt away. It made me feel better." There was a smile on his face and… I could feel a bit of jealousy pooling in my stomach. I… didn't have anything like that.

Safety, comfort, innocence. That was taken from me a long time ago. But… it made me happy that he was sharing this all with me. "You also just really like Batman?"

"Oh hell yeah." He ran his hand over a batmobile figure sitting on the dresser. "I have to say, and don't take this in a bad way or anything, but… you're kind of taking this really well. Like, almost too well."

At that, I shrugged a little, fidgeting with the soother clip, "I mean… It's different, sure, but everyone has their own lifestyles, if this is you guys', I'm not one to judge. It's… kind of cute, actually." I smiled a bit–it was cute, even if I didn’t really know that much about it yet. And I say yet because if I’d be staying with them for a while, there was no doubt that I’d be learning more than my fair share about it. "Besides, it's hardly the strangest thing I've seen, and I wouldn't really consider myself a… vanilla person. I don't do anything these days, but I've dabbled a lot."

I could have smacked myself for the last statement and really, really hoped he wouldn’t ask. I wasn’t really up for discussing my poor attempts at kinky adventures…

Thankfully, he just raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that said he definitely wanted to know, but he went in another direction, “I know what you mean, about weird stuff. There was a chick I hooked up with before all this and uh… she had a real big thing for ponies.” I looked up at him, having a pretty good idea where this was headed. “Now, I got nothin’ against pet-players, but she absolutely would not let me fuck her unless I wore a sheath thing shaped like… y’know, and I couldn’t even finish because she kept calling me the ‘best little horsie in the stable’.”

Caught completely off guard by how his little story ended, I let out a loud snort and my hands shot up to cover my mouth to try and hold down the laughter. Thankfully, he wasn’t offended, and just grinned, laughing as well. “It’s nice to hear you laughing.” My cheeks tinted, but I couldn’t stop my giggles anyway, and he reached over, ruffling my hair. I froze briefly at the touch, but forced myself to relax, and he smiled wider. “So, as for what’s in here, you can kinda see it all. I keep it clean… usually, so all the clothes are picked up–you saw the closet–and all my toys are in the toy chest, except for a few big things under the bed. Oh, and this is Crowley.” He grabbed the large black dog plush from his bed. “I’m kind of scared of real dogs, but he’s special and keeps me safe from them, and monsters, nightmares, and when I do have panic attacks, he helps me through them.”

I looked at the dog and smiled, reaching out to touch it. Dean, seeing what I was doing, held it out a little more and I placed my hand on it’s head. It’s fur was soft, though I could see that it was an older toy, meaning it was well cared for. “He’s a very good boy then, isn’t he?”

Dean nodded, giving the stuffed animal a big hug before gently setting it back on the bed. “C’mon, there’s still a lot to show you before everyone gets here, and if we don’t cover everything before they get here, we’ll never finish.”

Chapter Text

The next few rooms were ones I’d already seen, so we didn’t spend a lot of time in them. It was just a quick pop in to basically go ‘this is THIS room’ and point out a few things I might need to know the location of.

My own room was first in that, and while there wasn’t anything to point out, he did make a few comments about getting me more stuff to decorate it with-saying I could “totally make it a super cool room JUST like mine” (aka;his), which I brushed off because it wasn’t a concern. It was just a temporary room to me, after all. Of course, that earned me a pout and a side eye.

The second room was the hallway bathroom, which I may have dug around in the last time I’d showered. I didn’t feel it was necessary to ‘tour’ this room, but apparently he needed to point out the multiple packs of pull ups and diapers that were kept in the cabinet with the towels. I had somehow completely missed the fact they were there, but chalked it up to the fact that I wasn’t looking for them. I blushed when he started talking about them and the sizing, saying I’d probably fit and I cut him off, making a comment that I wouldn’t be needing it since I wasn’t little, but I supposed it was helpful if he needed help, but he gave me that same side eye again and shrugged, saying ‘You never know.’ 

Then we went to Cas and Sam’s room, where we had to be ‘extra quiet’ because apparently we weren’t supposed to be in there. Why? I don’t really know, and when I asked, all he did was giggle and say ‘cause Daddy says so’. I could only assume it was part of their thing, but they’d let me shower in their bathroom before, and I’d taken naps on their bed (by accident–I’d fallen asleep while talking to Cas or Sam a few times) which made me confused. I obviously wasn’t getting any further answers from Dean about it though, so I left it alone.

It didn’t seem like there would be anything interesting, because it looked like any normal adult’s bedroom, but this was a tour being led by Dean, so I followed along. He insisted we ‘tip-toe’ around and he showed me their bathroom, which I’d seen before, their closet, under the bed for some reason. He even started opening drawers and peeking through their dresser. It almost seemed like he was looking for something, actually…

“Aha!” Dean let out an excited whisper as he pulled out a box from just underneath one of the bedside tables. “Don’t tell ‘em that I know about this but…” Know about what? I almost didn’t want to know. This was the bedroom of two married men and that was a box kept hidden under the nightstand. All I could do was close my eyes and pray to the powers that be that Dean was not about to show me his ‘parents’ sex t– “Candy!”

…Candy? “Candy?” Sure enough, the box was filled to the brim with various kinds of candy–chocolate bars, mostly, but there were skittles, laffy taffy, twizzlers, different kinds of lollipops. It looked like someone’s halloween stash. “Why do they hide a box of candy in here and why do you know where it is?”

“Shhh.” Dean held up a finger, telling me to be quieter. “They dun like me havin’ lotsa sweets, but Papa has a huge sweet toof and keeps this here all the time. I sneak some now and then.” He was grinning, one of those mischievous ‘we’re about to do something we are definitely not supposed to’ grins. “Since today’s kinna special, I wanted to get somethin’ for us.”

I vaguely remembered Cas telling me about Sam’s sweet tooth at the cafe, but he had specifically said it referred to desserts… I think. I wouldn’t have thought Sam to be someone with a hidden candy stash. 

“But… you got me a candy at the store, remember? I still have it.” It was stashed in my room, with my clothes, just to make sure Sam or Cas wouldn’t find it, as promised.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Pssh. So? Dun be so borin’. Pick one an’ we can hide it for laters.” I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my face and shrugged, grabbing a twix while Dean went for a milky way. Then he quickly stuffed the box where it belonged and grabbed both our candies, sticking them in his back pocket. “Imma hide ‘em wif Crowley so he’ll keep ‘em safe. Then we can keep goin’.”

We tip-toed back to the door and Dean opened it slowly, peeking around to make sure neither Cas or Sam were around, and then dashed out and down the hall, leaving me behind. I stared after him, wide eyed, because now if they saw, I’d be the one in trouble!

As quickly and quietly as I could, I slipped out and closed the door, shuffling along to Dean’s room, just in time for him to pop back out, grinning. He gave me a thumbs up, signaling that our stolen treats were safe, and continued on, marching us on–this time to the living room.

There wasn’t anything to really show me there, aside from where they kept their DVDs (and they had a lot, ranging from kids shows and movies to recent releases to documentaries and things I’d never even heard of), but I did notice that all of the toy cars were gone, so it was likely that Cas had picked them up at some point, as it didn’t seem like Sam was leaving the kitchen anytime soon.

Dean didn’t seem interested in the dining area, which was understandable. From what I’d seen, it was just an extra side room with a large table and like a dozen chairs–a few photos on the walls. Nothing that he’d want to point out and nothing he could dig in.

Which meant our next stop was the kitchen. It seemed most of the food that was being prepared had reached a point where it could be left alone, but it all smelled great, and I have to admit I was impressed. For not being a professional, he definitely had the efficiency of one. He was a one-man catering crew. I’d only helped with a bit of prep, but he had an entire meal plus desserts going. Though at that exact moment, he seemed to be taking a break, sitting across the table from Cas, sipping at what smelled like fresh, delicious coffee.

“I was wondering when you two would make it this way.” Sam grinned over at us. “Not getting up to any trouble, are you?” He raised an eyebrow and I froze on the spot, my mind immediately going to what Dean and I had done not ten minutes before. Sam’s eyes were right on me too, and Cas’ gaze followed. They knew something was up, simply by the look on my face, and I couldn’t say a word–I was a shitty liar, especially under pressure.

Thankfully, Dean swooped in and saved my ass, and his own… hopefully. “Nuh-uh! I dids jus’ what I said! I showed him his room, jus’ in case he missed anythin’, then I showed him all the awesome stuffs in my room!” He kept a grin on his face as he spoke, and both of the men at the table turned their attention to him, mostly. Cas kept glancing at me, and I could only hope that he didn’t see the relieved sigh I let out when Dean started talking. “And o’course I showed him where we keeps the changin’ s’plies in the bathroom, too, cause even big boys has accidents.”

“That’s right, De, they do. That’s why you’re in a pull-up today, isn’t it?” Dean blushed at Cas’ question, or, it was more of a statement, I suppose, but nodded anyway. “I bet you two could use a little break after all of that. Do you think you can be an extra big boy for me and get yourself and Chris something to drink before you continue along?”

A drink? Coffee? I glanced around, and spotted the coffee pot, eyeing it longingly, but that wasn’t the direction that Dean went, and I sighed–considering how the morning had gone so far, I should have figured as much. Though as he was distracted with his task, it gave Sam and Cas time to turn their attention back to me. For a brief moment, I panicked, thinking I was going to get interrogated about what sort of ‘trouble’ we’d gotten up to, but they just smiled.

“Seems like you two are having fun.” I nodded, smiling a little back at Sam. “Just don’t let that little minx try to convince you to do anything too bad–I know his puppy eyes are one hell of a weapon, but I’d hate to have to spank two naughty little boys today.” At that, my face went red . Spank? Me? Sam would never–No, there’s no way. He had to be messing with me.

For a moment, I tripped over my own words, stuttering and fidgeting, trying to come up with a response, and the only thing I managed was, “I am not naughty!”, my brain completely skimming over the word that should have been important in that statement. 

Both of their smiles grew though, and Sam shrugged, “So far, you’ve been a very good boy. But Dean can be quite a bad influence sometimes, so we’ll see.” Dean looked over at hearing his name, but didn’t seem to have noticed anything else that was said, and bounced over, holding two… sippy cups in his hands. “Did you get the lids nice and tight, De?”

Dean nodded excitedly, though Cas opened his hand, “Let me see.” With a pout, the little in question handed over both cups, and Cas gave each lid an extra turn, “You were very close. I’m proud of you.” The pout immediately disappeared and was replaced by another smile. “Now, when you’re done, remember to bring these back to the kitchen so that we can clean them.”

“Yes Daddy!” The cups were handed back to Dean, who then walked over and offered one to me. I looked to Sam, then Cas, a silent ‘Really?’ hanging in the air, but as neither of them said anything, I figured this was just what I was stuck with. I was still hesitant, but… The fact that it was just the four of us in the house, and that it was no more embarrassing than the soother that was very obviously clipped to my shirt helped and I gave in, taking the blue sippy cup from Dean. “Onto the next, and most awesomest place ever!”

“No running , De. If you get yourself or Chris hurt, you’ll be spending the entire afternoon on the naughty step with a red bottom.” Dean paused in his almost-takeoff, blushing softly, and I assumed that was exactly what he’d intended to do. “You know how dangerous the workshop can be. So be extra careful.”

With a rather serious nod, Dean once again began leading the way, and we went out of a door to the right of the kitchen, which led to the garage. 

Seeing as I didn’t drive and knew absolutely nothing of cars, this was definitely Dean’s territory, and he happily took the lead. “That one,” he pointed to the car to the left, which I vaguely recognized–I’d seen it on campus a lot, and I believe was what Cas had been driving when he’d brought me home that one night, “is Daddy’s. It’s a 1987 Lincoln Continental Mark V. Kind of old, but I keep it in great shape, so it runs as smooth as the day it was made.” Was he ‘big’ now? How did he switch back and forth so quickly? “And that one is Papa’s. It’s a 2006 SRT Dodge Charger.” And this was the car they’d been in when I met them at the cafe… and what Sam had picked me up in. Huh. 

But, back to Dean–his use of Daddy and Papa, but without the childlike tone of voice, combined with how clearly he was speaking was confusing me. I definitely needed to ask him more about how their age play dynamic worked, hell, how his brain worked in regards to all of this.

“I uh… they look nice?” I gave a small smile, laughing a little as I . “I don’t know much aside from ‘car, truck, van’, and a few maker logos, honestly.” At that, he laughed.

“S’all good. I’m sure you’ll learn plenty if you spend enough time with me. Probably more than you’ll ever need to know.” Of that, I had no doubt, and it might come in handy in the future. “I have my own truck that I use to haul parts for these two, or when I have work. Nothing fancy, just kind of a mess of parts I threw together. It’s at the garage right now,” I tilted my head, confused, “That’s where I work part-time. Ah–Singer Salvage. Owned by an old family friend. Since this is only a two car garage, I leave my truck at work when it needs to be tinkered with.”

Okay, that made sense. I nodded, and he motioned with his hand for me to follow along. The garage was cut off by some kind of work fencing–similar to something I’d imagine would be at a construction site, leaving a portion of it open to something else. I guess I couldn’t really call the area ‘open’, as it contained a large work table, tool bench, and a lot of different tools, most of which I had absolutely no idea what they were. There was a lot of scrap metal and what looked to be pieces of model cars lying around in what could only be described as ‘organized chaos’ too.

“This is the best part of the garage though–my workshop!” He hopped the fence, ignoring the opening, and I rolled my eyes, following him the safe way. Though I didn’t know what exactly everything was, I definitely took my time examining everything that I could while resisting the strong urge to pick up the tools and play with them. The ones that I did recognize were ones I’d used myself back when I would build things at home.

My fingers twitched at the memory of putting together those little treasure boxes and jewelry cabinets, or the occasional toy box or dresser. I missed being able to put my creativity to use, being able to work with my hands and spend afternoons carving and painting beautiful wooden pieces for people around town.

Of course, that was a long time ago.

Just as I let out a sigh, Dean piped up, catching my attention and pulling me from my thoughts. “This one’s my favourite!” Turning around to face him, I saw that he was holding a completed model car in his hands–solid black and bigger than anything you’d find in a kit from the store. “It’s a 1967 Chevy Impala. My folks had one when I was a kid. It took forever to put it together just right, especially with all the little details, but…” I walked around the table I was at, getting closer so that I could take a better look at the car, inspecting it inside and out as best I could without touching it–I didn’t want to do that without permission or risk breaking anything on it.

It really was an amazing work, perfectly put together, beautifully painted. It almost looked like someone would have taken a shrink ray to a real car. “You made this by yourself? Just… out of scrap metal and stuff?” Dean nodded, his face lighting up pink. “This is… gorgeous, Dean. I could easily see your work being put on display in a car museum. This really is amazing.”

His cheeks darkened even more and he grinned, turning so that he could set the impala very carefully back onto the shelf he’d retrieved it from. Then he turned to me, and I nearly choked on the sip of juice I was taking as he spoke again, “Can I… Can I hug you?” Now, I wasn’t scared when he asked, and the idea didn’t make me anxious–but it shocked me. I mean, I’d hugged Sam in my distraught state when he picked me up from the motel, and that was the closest I’d come to any sort of intimate contact with anyone in nearly a decade and Dean was… asking? “I mean, if it’s not okay, I understand, I mean, I know you h–”

I held up a hand, stopping him, “Breathe.” He’d started rambling, but I needed to breathe too. “It’s… Yeah, okay. Yes.” I took a second deep breath. “You can, just uhm… if I go to pull back or anything, you have to let go immediately, okay?”

“Of course.” This was seeming far too… transactional, almost, but this was Dean, and I trusted him. He noticed that I wasn’t moving and stepped forward, opening his arms slowly. It was a deliberate movement, to give me time to change my mind, but I was good, and to prove that to him and myself, I stepped forward into the hug, allowing him to wrap his arms around me.

For the first few moments, I didn’t move, not… not quite freaked out, just adjusting. To say he was surprised when I hugged him back would be an understatement, especially when I wound up squeezing him tightly, pressing my face into his chest and just taking in his warmth. I had forgotten just how good it felt to really hug someone. To have someone hug me back.

Dean was tall, firm, and he felt so safe . Taking in a deep breath, I sighed, letting the tension fade from my body. “Been a long time since you had a good hug, huh?” I nodded and he chuckled softly. “Well, I’m here whenever you want one, and once you’re warmed up to ‘em more, Papa and Daddy will smother you with their hugs. Trust me.” That thought should have worried me a little, but honestly… it was a bit exciting. “Hey Chris, can I try something?”

“Er… try what exactly?” 

I managed to pull back enough to see a grin on Dean’s face, “Just somethin’. Please? You know I won’t hurt you and if you hate it, I promise I’ll never do it again.” Those puppy eyes combined with my own curiosity were going to get me into big trouble with him one day. Sighing again, I nodded. “Yes!” 

Before I could process what was happening, or protest, he repositioned his arms and lifted me up , right off the ground, sliding an arm under my butt while one went around my waist. “Dean!” I squeaked out his name, confused and a little scared, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck to make sure he wouldn’t freaking drop me. “T-This is something that would require a w-warning!”

But he was giggling, a huge, happy smile on his face, “I’m sorry but I couldn’t resist. I picked you up once when you were still mostly asleep and realized how light you were and really wanted to try this. I’m little, but I’m not little , y’knows? So I’m too big to carry, but you’re tiny, which is confusing because you must’ve built up a lot of muscle at work.”

“I-I was scrawny b-before that and I-I didn’t exactly eat well.” This was new. Very new, and I didn’t know how I felt about it. On one hand, I knew I was safe. Dean wouldn’t drop me, or so I could hope, and he was so happy about being able to carry me, but I wasn’t touching the ground anymore, and I was clinging to him in fear of being dropped. “D-Down now?”

That caused him to pout . No, not the pout. Please not the pout! “Just a little longer? I wanna carry you to the living room. Pleaaaaaase, Chris?” Oh man, why did he have to ask ? Why did he have to ask me while pouting? While pouting and looking down at me with those big, beaut– uh, big, green puppy eyes. Damnit, damnit, damnit. I wasn’t winning.

“O-Okay. Just p-please don’t d-drop me.” I held onto him tightly, blushing as his smile grew even more.

“I promise!” He turned to grab our cups, holding both in the hand he had wrapped around me, then we made our way across the garage and back into the house. I tried to hide my face as we went inside, but it wasn’t like I could exactly turn myself invisible. Cas and Sam were going to see him carrying me! 

When we entered the kitchen though, neither of them said a word, and I silently thanked all the higher powers for that one, but I had to look, had to take a peek and see the expressions on their faces. They were both still seated at the table, neither talking, so I wasn’t sure if we’d interrupted a conversation, if they stopped upon seeing us, or if they were just enjoying a few moments of peace, but both of them were smiling.

Or well, more like grinning, especially Cas. 

It made me feel even more embarrassed and I quickly turned my head back, hiding my face in Dean’s shoulder. I felt… conflicted. It felt nice being this close to someone, being held, it did, but it made me feel… weird, too. Small. The safe and warm feelings were there, the feeling of comfort, but I was also embarrassed and I kept going back to the thoughts of how I barely knew these people. How I shouldn’t feel that comfortable with them after such a short time.

I didn’t understand why I felt that comfortable with them.  It was confusing and frustrating and that part of me wanted to fight–to demand I be put down, to go back to my ‘no touching’ policy and stay far away from any sort of remotely intimate contact. But I liked it so much that… 

Ugh.

In the time of my personal mental turmoil, Dean put our cups in the sink and had walked into the living room, as promised, but unlike what he said, he didn’t exactly put me down. Instead, he walked all the way over to the couch, taking a seat himself and maneuvering me right next to him, so that he could wrap an arm around me and keep me pressed against his side.

“I-I uhm–D-Dean–W-What’re you doing?”

“We’re relaxin’. You seemed to really like my hugs and being carried sooo I kinda figured that you really enjoy bein’ close to people and since I’m the one that you’re most comfy with right now, I thought we could cuddle here and watch some cartoons ‘til everyone shows up. Issat okay?” 

There he was again, staring down at me, asking in the most gentle voice possible, sincerely wanting to make sure I was okay with what he was doing, not wanting to overstep all the invisible boundaries around me. How am I ever going to be able to tell this guy no? Ugh.  

Sighing, I smiled a little, then nodded, and his face lit up in a bright grin, “Awesome! I gots Scooby Doo in the DVD player, but lemme know if you wanna watch somethin’ else and I can change it.” He grabbed the remote and turned it on, starting the movie. It was the live action Scooby Doo, one of my old favorites, and my smile got a little bigger at that.

Though after all the ‘excitement’ from the tour, I was feeling a little worn out, and in less than half an hour, I was cuddled up against him, content, my eyes drifting closed.

Not much longer after that, I felt him carefully changing our positions, and I know I was laid down, but my brain was so close to a full shut down that I didn’t care. The soother was pressed against my lips and I opened my mouth just enough to accept it, breathing out happily.

The last thing I remember was warmth behind me and a gentle weight resting over my stomach.

Chapter Text

There were noises around me. They were faint, fuzzy–which could simply be due to the fact that I was still half asleep–sounds. The shuffling of footsteps, incoherent mumbling. My first thought was that it was the TV, since I had fallen asleep while Dean and I were watching cartoons, so I ignored them. I was comfortable, warm, and somewhere between falling back asleep and waking up, though I would have preferred the former.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem like it was going to happen. The sounds around me started to become clearer and I realized that no, that is definitely not the TV. I figured then that it was probably just Sam or Cas, maybe even both, coming to wake us up since we probably weren’t supposed to take a nap with their guests being on their way. 

Squirming a little, I yawned, though I couldn’t stretch well since I was being held tightly to Dean, whose arm was still wrapped around my stomach. From the slow rise and fall of his chest, it seemed Dean was still out for the count, though it likely wouldn’t be for much longer. If the talking around us and my moving didn’t wake him up, Cas or Sam would likely shake him awake or something.

“--an it, Cassie, they’re the cutest babies I’ve ever seen!” My breath caught in my throat and I froze as the first almost-complete sentence came in loud and clear. That was not either of the other two men I’d come to know. The sound and tone told me male and possibly ‘little’ like Dean, but it still belonged to someone I didn’t know. Shit. “Did you get a picture of them? They’re fast asleep right now, you can’t miss an opportunity like this!”

“You know De wouldn’t like you calling him a baby, Gabriel.” That one, that was Cas, and it seemed the first of the new voices was Gabriel… that sounded vaguely familiar, but I met a lot of people through my… well, old job, so that didn’t help much. “Though no, we haven’t taken a picture of them. They were napping quite peacefully while Sam and I finished getting everything ready–I didn’t want to risk waking them.” Wait, what about him calling me a baby? I’m not part of… their lifestyle. I was just…

“Pfft. He’s a baby and he knows it. Only one smaller than him is this guy.” Okay, so I know what the situation looked like, but Cas didn’t correct him… Also, him? Was he talking about me or someone else that was in the room? Because if it was me, we needed to clear a fe--“Well, I’ll do it then.” There was a bit of a shuffle then the distinct sound of a camera click. “There we go! Now to send it to you and Sammy and post it in the fami–” 

I felt panic bubbling in my chest, but thankfully… Gabriel was cut off by someone else, “Gabriel, calm yourself. You may send the photo to Castiel and Sam, but otherwise it isn’t to be spread around. What did we talk about on our way here?” And the count goes up to three strangers around me.

A loud sigh came next, followed by a grumbled, “I know, I know. I don’t have their permission and I’m not s’posed to make the new kid uncomfortable…” It was a little late for the ‘don’t make the new kid–guy uncomfortable’ part, but it was nice to know they had talks about consent. I don’t know what I’d do if someone spread pictures of me around to people I didn’t know. Family or not. 

“Mmmn..” Dean mumbled, shifting a bit behind me, which made me squirm a bit as well, unsure of what was going on. Was he waking up? “S’my.. pie…” Ah, no. Dean is just talking in his sleep, which… was kind of funny. More so since it was obvious that he was dreaming about food.

“It’s still a bit early, Cas. It wouldn’t hurt to just let them sleep for a little longer.” And there was Sam. It made me feel a bit better that both of them were in the room with us. At least I wasn’t alone with strangers staring at me. “They do look pretty cute like this.” 

There were a few different laughs around us, male and female, as Cas answered, “They are, but no. I believe it’s time for the boys to get up. Dean was looking forward to spending time with everyone and we need to properly introduce everyone to Chris.” I huffed softly, and Cas chuckled, “Besides, I think one of our sleepy little boys is actually awake.” Busted. I shook my head ‘no’ to that, causing everyone (I could assume) around us to laugh. “No? You’re still fast asleep?” Well, the cat was out of the bag–might as well play along, so I nodded. “Nice try, but I don’t believe you, Chris.”

“From the look of things, we’ll have to wake Dean up before you can move anyway. Our little man has a vice grip on you, buddy.” Until Sam said it, I hadn’t really noticed, but Dean really did have his arm around me pretty tightly. If he was like this every time he went to sleep, I felt bad for Crowley. Poor toy must get the stuffing squeezed out of him every night. “Alright, De, it’s time to wake up.” Said sleeping male grumbled something incoherent, letting out a huff. “It’s almost time to eat.”

Of course at the mention of real food, he starts to really squirm, his grip loosening as he stretched, “Mm… food.” Cue a loud growl from his stomach, which caused me to snort in amusement, daring to open one eye and peek at our surroundings, which were mostly blurry. My glasses took a dive when I passed out, I suppose.

“That’s right. Turkey, sweet potatoes, stuffing, all of those delicious pies we made for dessert.”

That did it. With a happy “mmm!”, Dean started really moving, intent on getting up and to the kitchen as quickly as possible, though in his sleep-hazed mind, he forgot that we were pressed together on the couch, so when he tried to roll over and push himself up, he unintentionally pushed me right off of the couch and onto the floor, where I landed on my back with a soft thump. 

The fall and subsequent landing shook me the rest of the way awake and I blinked slowly, staring up at the ceiling as I processed what had just happened. Note to self; couch naps are a bad idea.

My falling registered in Dean’s brain much faster than it had in mine and he rolled over onto his butt, staring down at me, “Holy sh–Chris, I’m so sorry!” 

Out of pure habit, a soft “Ow” escaped me, though honestly there wasn’t any reason for it. The fall had been a bit of a shock, but that’s all. It definitely didn’t hurt, not compared to all of the other falls I’d taken in my life. Work related falls had always been the worst–concrete and ceramic tile are not your friend–but I was just clumsy. Tripping over my own feet? Check. Tripping over seemingly non-existent objects? Check. Having people bigger than me bump me over? Yeah. Hell, I even fell out of bed more often than I’d ever care to admit. So me? The floor? Very well acquainted, and this didn’t even rank on my list of ‘most painful dives’.

Oh, shit, right, Dean. 

At my little ‘ow’, tears quickly began building in the corners of his eyes as his bottom lip trembled and I sucked in a sharp breath–he was going to cry. Because of me. And it seemed the lovely group around us was happy to just watch this play out because no one made a move for either of us. Fu–

“No, no–Dean, I’m fine! I promise!” It took a bit of effort to scramble up and into a sitting position, one hand patting around on the coffee table nearby in the hopes of finding my glasses (if they fell off, then hopefully someone would have noticed and picked them up before they got stomped on). “I didn’t really fall that hard and even if I had, I’ve fallen harder–it’s okay, I really do promise.” The last thing I wanted was to make him freaking cry. Adult crying, I could probably handle, but this was Dean–De–little Dean. I could tell that based on his reaction alone and I didn’t want him to cry. It would be like making an actual little kid cry. Just the thought of it made my heart hurt.

Letting out a sniffle, Dean reached forward, offering a hand to help me get up, and hoping it would help show him that I really was fine and there was no need for tears, I took it. My other hand, still on the coffee table, assisted in pushing me up and to my feet, at which point I smiled. “You sure that you’re okay?” 

“Yep. Just fine. Though I’d be better if I could find my gla–” And so they magically appear, with Sam gently placing them onto my face. “Yes, those.” Though now with them on, I was able to actually see everyone that was around us, watching what had happened with smiles–or smirks– on their faces and I kind of wished I couldn’t. Sure, four people wasn’t a lot, not technically speaking, but four guests plus Cas plus Sam all staring at me really made it feel like a lot.

They did look familiar though. It had to be from work though. I knew that. In the time since I’d met Cas, I’d only been introduced to Sam and Dean and… 

I looked over to Cas, then the others in the room. The blond male gave me a wave and a huge grin and the taller, older male nearest him tilted his head, smirking.

Oh.

“The Miltons.” The words made their way out of my mouth before I could stop them and the shock I was feeling must have shown on my face. It had been months since that particular event, and a lot had happened between then and now, but there was no mistaking it. Balthazar and Gabriel, the two who had ‘kept tabs’ (oh yeah, I remembered that comment) on me while I worked. 

The woman, I didn’t catch her name at that party, but she’d been with Cas and Sam when they caught me running around, was smiling at me too. That left the last male, who… The birthday boy! Samandriel.

Balthazar spoke first and I nearly choked on my own breath as he did, “Not going to faint on us, are you?” Slowly, I shook my head, but didn’t say anything in response.

The Miltons. Now, aside from what I learned for that party and at it, I didn’t know much about them. Hell, I didn’t even know that Cas was related to them, though it all kind of clicked when I thought about it. Castiel, Gabriel, Balthazar, Samandriel… The other names I’d learned that day had escaped me since they were only in passing or when my (ex) boss had yelled at me to tend to them, but all of their names were similar. 

As the gears turned in my head, I looked between everyone in the room–they were definitely Cas’ relatives, so Cas had taken Sam’s last name when they got married and his original name was Castiel Milton… 

“Momma, did we break him?” Samandriel piped up, looking to ‘Momma’, and she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Am sorry if we broke you.” Now he was looking at me again–they all were.

Fainting though, as Balthazar had mentioned, almost seemed like a good idea, but I didn’t, surprisingly. What did I do though? I laughed. It was short, a sort of nervous half-laugh, really, but that was what I managed, at least before my brain clicked on again. Which didn’t help, because without thinking;

“At least I’m not the youngest one here now.”

Gabriel’s grin widened even more, if that was even possible, and he pointed at my chest, “But only the littlest babies use soothers.”

That time I did choke, having forgotten all about… that.

Was it possible to pass out from blood loss when all of said blood was rushing to your face to make it burn as bright as possible?

Chapter Text

“Gabriel.” Cas spoke up, looking over at the… little, I could only assume, “You know better. Be nice.” When Gabriel simply stuck out his tongue in response, my assumption was confirmed, and I just… stared.

It took a few minutes for me to recover from Gabriel’s comment, and when I did, I tried to quickly and subtly, hide the soother in my shirt pocket. Of course, with everyone in the living room practically staring at me, the action didn’t go unnoticed. Thankfully, despite the looks and smiles, no one actually said anything.

“Since everyone’s here now, and you’re both awake, how about we get everyone properly introduced. You were so busy at Samandriel’s party that you didn’t get the chance to actually meet anyone.” Cas smiled down at me, and I nodded, taking a seat back on the couch next to Dean, who flashed me a grin. 

“I know him already!” Gabriel piped up, waving one arm excitedly. “Me and Bal! We kidnapped him at the party!” I had to bite back a laugh at how excited he sounded about that. They had, though. It had gotten me into a bit of trouble, but the break they’d forced upon me was much needed and definitely appreciated. Balthazar had also been the one to bring me home, if I remember correctly… Honestly, after I’d gotten sick, things started to blur.

Balthazar shook his head, a fond smile on his face as he patted Gabriel on the head, “We did not kidnap him, Gabe. We simply assisted him in taking a break. But in case you have forgotten us since then, I am Balthazar and this rambunctious child is Gabriel.”

“Anael, but everyone calls me Anna.” She was the woman who’d been standing with Cas and Sam at the party. It was nice to put a name to the face, if nothing else. “Would you like to introduce yourself, honey?” She looked down at Samandriel, who looked back up at her with wide eyes, shaking his head before burying his face in her shoulder. She leaned down to kiss his head before looking back at me, “This is Samandriel, though we lovingly call him Alfie when he’s feeling little.” 

Alfie? That nickname didn’t make any sense to me, but I wasn’t going to question it. Maybe it was his middle name? Or it could just be something they came up with for… their little time? It didn’t make much difference either way. Though I was curious… Maybe I’d ask Dean once they’d gone home. Maybe.

Oh, crap. It was my turn, wasn’t it? “Oh–uh–uhm–Hi. I’m Chris. Or, I go by Chris, at least.” Had I told Cas, Sam, or Dean what my actual name was? I… was going to assume that I didn’t, considering the curious looks that they were giving me. “It’s nice to… officially meet you.” 

Now that I was really awake, I could feel my anxiety starting to build again, and being ‘surrounded’ wasn’t helping, even if they were my housemate’s family… And it seemed Cas hadn’t been lying about them all being into the ageplay thing. Which, I’d have to find a way to ask about that too. Was it normal for there to be so many people in the same family participating in the same kind of thing? Because with the new four people, that made three littles and three… Not daddies, because of Anna, but was Balthazar Gabriel’s Daddy? Three… oh, right, caregivers. But it seemed odd that so many were in the same family.

“Alright everyone, into the dining room.” Sam spoke up, pulling me from my thoughts. “Before the food starts to get cold.” Samandriel–Alfie–and Anna were the first two to move, Cas following behind them. Balthazar looked at Gabriel, who waved him off, so the older man shrugged and headed into the dining room as well. Surprisingly, Dean didn’t budge, staying right where he was next to me. “You okay?” The question was directed at me and… I had to take a deep breath, but I was. For the most part.

I nodded. “I.. think so. Just a lot, you know.”

Sam nodded back, “I understand. You can join us whenever you’re ready.” Then he looked at Dean and Gabriel, “You two can hang out in here with Chris, but do not overwhelm him or you’ll both be spending the afternoon in time out.” Both boys’ eyes went huge and they gave firm nods. I couldn’t help but stare at Sam as well–I guess that “time out” threat I’d made to Dean earlier really was legit.

“We’ll be perfect little angels, Uncle Sammy! Scout’s honor!” Gabriel stood straight and saluted, earning a chuckle from Sam, who ruffled Dean’s hair as he left the room. With it just being us three, everything was quiet… at least for about a minute before Gabriel spoke again. “That was the most underwhelming introduction I have ever seen.” Both Dean and I looked at Gabriel, who shrugged, sticking his hands into his pockets. What did he mean? I thought it had gone pretty well, considering the circumstances.“You’re not scared of us or anything, are you? ‘Cause you were perfectly fine at the party, aside from being super quiet and–”

Oh. That’s what he meant. I felt myself tense, though at the same time, from my peripheral, I saw Dean’s eyes narrow, and Gabriel closed his mouth, momentarily, but kept staring at me. “You know what anxiety is, Gabe. Leave him alone.”

“Is it the ageplay stuff? Does it weird you out? Bal told me that it was fine if me and Alfie were little while we were here even though I asked like a thousand times because I knew you were here and no one at the house actually knew if you were into any of it and Cassie wouldn’t give me a straight answer–”

“Gabriel!” Dean hissed out his name, and this time, Gabriel did shut up, and I turned my own gaze down to my lap. It wasn’t the ageplay stuff and I wasn’t scared of them. I just didn’t know them and with the four of them here that was seven people I’d be spending a holiday with. My memories of any big holiday weren’t great, not for as long as I could remember, and suddenly I was in this house and there were so many people… “Go to the dining room or I’m telling everyone that you were being mean.”

With a huff, Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest, plopping down on the recliner across from us. “I am not being mean. I just wanna know. You said he has anxiety but he acted perfectly fine at Alfie’s party.”

Clenching my fists, I took a deep breath and looked over at him, frowning, “I looked and acted that way because I was at work and I had to be normal or I’d have gotten fired.” I watched as he tensed, just a bit, and I continued, “Like Dean said, I have anxiety.” Among other things I wasn’t about to discuss or disclose with anyone, especially Gabriel. “I am in a… new environment,” New enough, anyway, “with new people and I don’t know you. Forgive me for not being the smiling, overly-polite perky person you saw at Alfie’s party, but I’m not going to play pretend at home and if you don’t stop, then I promise, you won’t just be spending the afternoon in time out, I can make sure you don’t get any desserts either.” 

I surprised myself with that one, but when I was upset, I tended to… ramble, a little. Darren had heard me go off on many a long winded “bitch rant”, as he called them, when he’d done something particularly stupid, not that my words ever changed anything.

Now he was really tense, and honestly, he looked a little afraid. “W-What? You can’t do that! I’ll tell on you for being a meanie!”

Sitting up, I mimicked his earlier pose, crossing my arms over my chest as I glanced at Dean. His eyes met mine and he nodded, smirking. Gabriel watched this, knowing that if it came down to it, Dean would back me up in a heartbeat, and he gulped. Once more, I looked at Gabriel. He met my gaze and I narrowed my eyes, “Try me.”

With another loud huff, Gabriel stood, grumbling about ‘dumb babies’ and ‘ruining all the fun’ and other things that were surely along those lines as he stomped off towards the dining room. I kept my eyes on him the entire time, but as soon as he was out of sight, I let out a heavy sigh and slumped forward, reaching up to rub my face. I could feel tears building in the corners of my eyes and had to force them back–that should not have happened, but he just didn’t stop. Dean was so nice in little mode, and Alfie was shy–why did Gabriel have to be a brat?

“Hey… You okay?” Dean placed a hand on my shoulder and I nodded softly, taking in slow, deep breaths. “I’m sorry about Gabe. He’s usually pretty cool, but when he’s in his headspace, he can be a huge pain in the ass. He doesn’t act like that to be malicious, but sometimes he just doesn’t know when to quit. You did a good job standing up to him though.” Lifting my head, I glanced up at Dean, who was grinning. “If you gave Cas or Sam that look, with the tears, just like that, Gabe wouldn’t be getting desserts for a week! It’s like puppy eyes, but super sad instead of all cute and beggy.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me, and I lifted my arm, using my sleeve to wipe any stray tears off my face. “I mean… I don’t like using the “sad puppy” look for evil, but he really was being a brat. If he didn’t stop…” Well, it wouldn’t have been “sad puppy” so much as “crying puppy”, and if it got him into trouble, well, it would be his own fault. Hell, he’d be lucky if the only thing that happened was me crying. If I had an anxiety attack…

Ugh, better to not think about it.

“So, you’re really okay?”

Taking in a deep breath, I nodded again, “Yeah… Yeah, I’m alright. He just stressed me out a little. I’ve dealt with people like that who were malicious–they didn’t like how I wasn’t the same as the… persona I used for work. It’s okay, though. I knew today was going to be stressful and I’m going to try and enjoy it regardless. It wouldn’t be a holiday without some drama.” I pushed a small smile onto my face and Dean returned it with one much larger, more genuine.

“You’re right about that. Usually it’s pretty calm if we host everything here, but if we go to the Milton’s? Man, you wouldn’t believe how crazy things get over there. Well, you might–You did have to kinda host Alfie’s birthday.” 

I grimaced at the memories of that party. From a work point of view, things had gone beautifully. We’d gotten a great review from Zachariah, the one who had hired us, but I did remember passing by a lot of gossip and chatter and near-fights that I would be much better off having never witnessed. I couldn’t imagine spending time with that group on a personal level. The four that were here… So far, seemed pretty nice. Even Gabriel could be nice–it was just his little side that was an ass. Though that still might change. I hadn’t exactly been around him, or any of them, for all that long. 

“See?! I don’t know how much you saw, with the running around, but at one point Naomi–that’s Alfie’s step mom–actually threw a whole glass of wine on one of their guests because she didn’t “approve of the dress she’d worn”, so having a bunch of ageplayers spending the day together? Trust me when I say this is the most easy-going Thanksgiving you’ll ever have with us.” 

My smile grew and I looked towards the entryway to the dining room. There was the light sound of chatter and movement, but I couldn’t tell if they’d actually started eating. It didn’t seem like Gabriel had said anything about what had happened between us, though. “I guess we should join them then, huh? I don’t imagine they’ll wait forever… and I feel bad that you kind of… ended up stuck out here with me.”

Dean squirmed in his spot, then carefully wrapped one arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug. “I wanted to make sure you were really okay. After this morning… I want you to enjoy today, as much as you can. I don’t know how your holidays have been, y’know, before, but…”

But he was worried. As I realized what he was trying to say, I leaned into the hug, giving him a small nudge. “Thanks. I’m good, I promise. Like I told you earlier, if it does get to be too much, I’ll just go hide for a bit. Maybe in your room–I bet Batman and Crowely would keep me safe until I feel better.”

At my words, Dean nodded happily and stood up, a grin spreading across his face, “Alright! Then let’s go! I wanna make sure we gets lots of the good stuff before it’s all gone ‘cause Papa and Gabe eat a lot, so if they get to the pie first, it’ll disappear! Poof!”

I laughed aloud at his sudden switch back to “little mode”, but stood up as well, allowing him to lead the way.

Chapter Text

Yeah, so, life happened, right?

Ended up drifting pretty far away from the world of fanfiction, and while I'd poke about on here now and then, I didn't quite have the spoons to respond to those wonderful folk who still commented on my fics. (I did read them all and every single one of you is wonderful, so here's some fun information!)

Good news/bad news;

Bad news, these stories are going to be taken down/deleted. For good, yep. Gone.

Good news, I am actively re-writing them. In the time that I took not writing ageplay/littleverse fics, I was writing other projects and focusing on developing my OCs as, well, people. So the two fics I have here are being reworked, and while that does mean there's going to be a lot of changes, I believe it's for the better.

My writing style and writing preference have changed quite a bit and if I were to attempt to continue these as they are, I would likely lose interest. It isn't bad, compared to what it could be, but I can do better.

For the time being, these will stay up and available for viewing. Chapter one of this particular fic is already done and I'm making my way through chapter two. Once I get half of the already completed chapters completely redone, and work out a sort of writing/posting schedule, I'll set up the new (updated) fic and upload the first chapter. Same theme, same general plot, just a new, more fleshed out main character and a few key changes that I'm hoping will do my ideas justice.

Until then, stay groovy!

-Teapers