fic: Long Before Dawn
Title: Long Before Dawn
Rating: R
Pairings: onesided Dean/Castiel; mentions to past Castiel/OMCs
Warnings: Abortion, mentions of past non-con, underage (both Dean and Castiel are 17)
Summary: Castiel has been acting cagey for a long time when he finally asks Dean for a ride to an undisclosed location.
Castiel goes up to Dean fifth period Thursday. "I need a ride," he says without preamble. "Saturday. It's going to be most of the day, but… I really need it. I don't have the money for another cab, and-"
"Hey," Dean says, his raised hand cutting off Castiel's near-ramble. "It's cool, I'm free Saturday. When do you want me to pick you up?"
And Castiel looks so, so relieved, like he's just going to hug Dean right there (and Dean certainly wouldn't object to that, to having Castiel and his intoxicating omega scent - but no, no they're friends nothing else remember that Dean, you idiot). "Thank you. I'm in your debt."
"What are friends for?" Dean asks breezily. "So where're we going?"
Cas tenses up and looks away. "Um. Do you mind if I… don't tell you in advance? I know where it is," he adds quickly. "Don't worry about that. Just… I've got reasons."
And that's weird. Cas in general is kinda weird, granted. But he's usually not this cagey, and on top of everything else as of late…
But again, they've been friends for a long time, so Dean figures he can trust Cas on this. "Okay," he agrees. "See you… nine on Saturday?"
"That sounds excellent. Thank you, Dean."
Cas scurries off, his books pressed to his chest. Dean watches him go and tries not to be too worried.
*
Dean tries to make small talk during the ride, he really does. About the weather, Sam's soccer games, how AP Language is such a bullshit class and why the fuck is Dean even in AP; he's not a genius like Cas - but Cas's answers are all vague, noncommittal, like he's only half there.
Which, really, describes Castiel as of late perfectly.
They've been friends since third grade, way before the whole alpha-omega distinction existed. Castiel was the one who came up and scared away some asshole middle-schoolers who thought Dean would be an easy target, given that his mom was dead and he lived in a dilapidated house with an unmowed lawn and junkies for neighbors.
Dean probably could have fought them off even then; he was always a tall kid. But it was Castiel's seething stare and personal threats (which were really fucking dark for a third grader) that got the jerks to leave Dean alone. And they had bonded, and they had been friends - best friends - ever since. Even though Dean was an alpha, and Castiel was an omega, and it wasn't really… normal to see two opposites be so close without them fucking.
It wasn't that Dean would object to that. But there was no way Cas would be up for it, and Dean liked to think of him as being above the classic male-alpha stereotype; that he was more than a knot with a body attached. They were friends. That was good.
And then… Dean stares at the unfamiliar streets in front of him, trying to figure out when things went bad. A couple of months ago, Cas got mono and was out for two weeks. And when he came back he was… different. Withdrawn and moody, and he smelled kinda gross, all slathered up in some cologne that definitely wasn't his usual dab of Old Spice.
Dean had asked him about it, obviously. He's not really into talking about his feelings, but he isn't a bad friend.
Castiel had said he was fine, though, that he was just freaked out about falling behind after missing so much school. Dean hadn't missed the way his eyes flickered away when he said that; seven years of friendship, and he knows damn well when Castiel is lying. But he let it go, because Cas knows that Dean is there for him, and Dean knows that Cas will talk when he's ready, if he wants to.
"Turn left," Cas says, startling Dean out of his reveries. Dean does as asked. It's a beautiful spring day, the perfect sort to be out for a drive.
"Still not gonna tell me where we're going?" he asks lightly, trying to draw Cas out. He looks downright miserable, all wrapped in a sweatshirt and hunched against the window, like Dean is driving him towards his execution or something.
"We're almost there. Drive down this road for about five minutes, and then bear right. It’s maybe half a mile after that." Castiel hesitates and then adds, "Dean, if you don't want to wait… I mean, I can probably afford a cab back home. A one-way ride. It's going to be a few hours and there isn't much to do down here and I know you're probably going to be uncomfortable I'm really sorry-"
"Hey." Dean reaches over and touches Cas's arm. Cas starts, and then shakes his head.
"Sorry," he says again, quieter. Dean is overcome with the urge to know what's going on, what happened to the tough, ass-kicking Cas of before. Where Castiel's dry humor went, and what the hell happened to the text messages that he would send Dean at night, about whatever miscellaneous things were on his mind.
Dean knows, though, that Cas won't respond well to those questions, so he files them away. "Of course I'll wait. I brought a book, actually. The one Bateman gave us? I haven't started it, and since that essay is due on Wednesday, I figured I probably should."
Castiel relaxes back into his seat. "It isn't too bad. It's a play, actually. I don't know if it's your sort; it's kind of… slice-of-life-ish, but I'm enjoying it."
"Worthy recommendation, then. I figure it's about time I actually read something, instead of just getting the Spark Notes. Bear right here?"
"Yeah." Castiel swallows as Dean makes the move. They drive for about a minute, and then, "Park here."
Dean obeys, not really paying attention to the signs as he focuses on squeezing in between two SUVs. Once the move is made, he turns and looks at Castiel, who's looking even paler than before. "Hey. You okay?"
"I'm fine. Let's go." Cas gets out without waiting for an answer, and Dean, shrugging, follows him.
It's only after the Impala is shut and locked that he looks up at the building and reads the sign. Wichita Center for Omega-Beta Assistance.
Suddenly the spring day doesn't feel so warm anymore. Dean looks over at Castiel, who is deliberately avoiding his gaze, and one by one the pieces slide into place.
The heady cologne, disguising his scent. The sweatshirts. The way he flinches at all of Dean's casual touches.
The two weeks he was absent, and some assorted factoid that Dean gained from one health class or another: that first heats almost always last a week or more, are generally longer than the three-to-five days of mature omegas.
"Cas," he says, trying to keep his voice low and steady. "Cas, who did this to you?"
Castiel swallows and stares down the street. "Dean… I have an appointment; I don't want to miss it…"
There are so many things that Dean wants to ask, and there are so many heated emotions boiling underneath his skin, because there is someone out there who had hurt his best friend, and that someone is going to fucking pay for it. Dean is unquestionably going to make sure of that.
But right now Cas needs him to do something else, to just be there for him. He isn't outright asking for it, but Dean is good at reading between the lines, and right now there's a whole goddamn litany of things that Cas wants, all buried beneath his single request for a ride. And Dean will be fucked if he isn't going to give them all to Castiel.
So he nods and tentatively puts an arm around Castiel's shoulders, and draws him in once he's met with no resistance. "Of course. C'mon, let's get you inside. We can… we'll see what happens later."
*
The clinic is sterile and polished, the only disruptions from the blandness of it all being colorful posters on STDs, domestic abuse hotlines, and what to do with an unwanted pregnancy.
Castiel goes straight up to the receptionist, and as he's giving her his information, a door opens and a nurse steps out.
"Castiel?" he asks.
Dean watches as Cas looks up and nods, observes the welcoming smile on the nurse's face. "Right this way, please."
And Castiel follows him into a narrow hallway and the door is shut, leaving Dean alone in the waiting room of the abortion clinic - well, no, he thinks as he sits down. It's a clinic for betas and omegas, and it surely helps with more than… that. There will be legal advisors here too, and social workers, and financial planners…
But Castiel isn't here for any of that. He's here to… to terminate a pregnancy that fucking no one knew existed. Probably not even his family, Dean reasons, seeing as he was the one who drove Cas here. Which is probably for the better; the vast majority of Castiel's siblings and extended family that live in the sprawling mansion on the outskirts of Lawrence are total assholes.
Dean seats down and takes out his battered copy of Our Town. During the next three-and-a-half hours, he gets through the entire first act and about half of the second.
He just… images keep flashing through his mind of Castiel in his heat with some shady guy taking advantage of him. Sometimes it's a total stranger who breaks into the Milton mansion; sometimes it's one of Castiel's own relatives (and Dean knows how fucked up that is, but, well… some of Cas's cousins make Dean's skin crawl, and he wouldn't put this past them).
In any scenario that Dean's twisted mind spits out, he is always overcome by how alone Castiel must have felt, how isolated. Given the situation that he's in now, the chances that he would have been brought to a hospital are slim to none; they're damn effective at preventing pregnancies these days.
Dean should have been there for him. He should have read the signs, should have pushed harder to find out what was wrong. There's nothing to justify him not doing so, and there's nothing that can make up for what Castiel has been going through the past few months.
And Dean knows that all he can do is sit there and wait, and still be right where he is now when Castiel comes back out. Take things one step at a time. He can't think of any other way to handle it.
*
It's around four o'clock when a different nurse holds open the door to the same hallway, and Castiel comes shuffling out of it. His face is paler than usual, and his hands are shaking ever so slightly. Dean thinks he might be walking with a limp, but he's moving along so slowly that it's hard to tell.
As soon as he's in the waiting room Dean is by his side, offering a steady arm. "Hey," he says soothingly - or as soothingly as he can manage under the circumstances, anyway. "How are you feeling? Can you make it out to the car?"
"Of course." Castiel tugs away from Dean's arm - not forcefully, but just tiredly, resigned. Like he wants to be alone. And Dean totally, totally gets that, so he quickly steps away from Cas and lets him have his space. "Dean, I have to make a follow-up appointment. Do you mind waiting for a few more minutes?"
"Of course not. I'll drive you to that too, if you need it."
"Thank you."
When Cas is all set making the appointment, the two of them walk out side-by-side into the Kansas afternoon. The sun is blindingly bright after being in the windowless clinic, but even as Dean shields his eyes, he's still stealing glances at Castiel.
Yeah, he's definitely pale. And his face is pinched into a grimace. Dean doesn't really know much about the procedure, let alone the aftereffects of it, but it doesn't take a medical expert to figure out that Cas is in some sort of pain.
"You can take the back bench if you want," he tells Castiel. "I mean, to lie down in. If you're tired."
"Thank you, but I think I'll be all right."
Dean shrugs and slides into the driver's seat. "Your call. Hey, do you need me to stop at a pharmacy or anything?"
Castiel shakes his head as he pulls his door shut. "I'm fine."
It's a laughably large lie, but Dean just nods his head and pulls out of the clinic. Castiel is in charge here, and if saying that makes him feel better, well, so be it.
They're about ten minutes away from Lawrence when Dean asks, "Do you want to go home? Or do you wanna sleep over? Dad's cooking tonight; he's making burgers, I think…"
Dean tries not to sound too desperate, but it's nearly impossible to disguise his preference for the second option. He doesn't feel right bringing Castiel back to the mansion: not only would he be totally on his own with no one around him knowing anything about what he just went through, but Dean still doesn't know what happened, and it's entirely too likely that someone at Castiel's house broke into his room when he was going through his heat and… and…
"I'm not very hungry, but if you wouldn't mind me staying over… well, I would appreciate that. More than I could really express." Castiel glances over at Dean, and he's doing that thing where the corners of his eyes relax and a sheen of sincerity comes over them and makes his pupils all soft. Dean rarely sees that look, and it's a strange - but not entirely unwelcome - deviance from the usual tough set of Cas's eyes.
"I can't thank you enough for all of this. I know I've dragged you in without explaining everything, and I will eventually, I promise. It's just…"
"Hey, don't worry about it," Dean interrupts. Castiel looks like he might cry, and Dean has never seen that happen, and he never wants to. "What're friends for?"
"I mean it, though," Castiel insists. "There are few people in the world who would just go along with everything you've seen today, and… and I needed that very much. And if you'd grant me the refuge of your house for a night, I would be even further indebted to you."
"You're not indebted to me at all. You'd do the same for me." Which is a really lame thing to say, seeing as Dean can't exactly get pregnant. But it's the sentiment that counts, really, and Dean knows that Castiel understands what he means.
"Still." Castiel leans back in his seat and sighs. "I appreciate this. Really."
"I know. It's okay."
Dean doesn't know what he means by that last part - that it's okay that Cas thinks he owes Dean something? That it wasn't any problem to give up a Saturday to drive his best friend to get an abortion? That whatever Cas has gone through in the past, he's never gonna go through again; Dean will make sure of that?
Dean honestly doesn't know what he's trying to say. But he can't think of anything to add, so he leaves the words hanging in the air, and they drive the rest of the way home in silence.
*
It's almost 7:00 by the time they get back home. John is sitting in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and reading a book when the two of them stumble in.
He glances up and raises his eyebrows. "Castiel. Nice of you to come by for a visit."
"He can spend the night, right, Dad?" Dean interjects before Cas can respond to the pleasantries. They used to do it all the time when they were kids, but the sleepovers had abruptly ended once they hit high school. It wouldn't be proper for an omega to spend the night at an alpha's house, after all.
John hesitates, but Dean gives him a look. John holds his eyes for a moment, and then he gives a slow nod. "Of course. There're some leftover hamburgers in the fridge for you two, and you can heat up some fries or whatever. Sam's upstairs, doing homework or something."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Winchester," Castiel says quickly. They had spoken out in the driveway about what to tell John, and Cas had said that it was all right for Dean to tell him the truth. Dean knows that Castiel doesn't want to be the one to bring up the subject, though, and he absolutely shouldn't have to be. When John asks what the hell is up (which he undoubtedly will the moment Cas is out of the room) then Dean will be honest with him. He can wait until then, though.
Castiel turns to Dean. "Would it be at all possible for me to use your shower? I'm afraid I'm not very hungry; I'm actually rather tired."
"Of course. Grab a pair of my sweats; you know where they are. You can have the bed. Seriously," he adds as Cas opens his mouth to protest. "The couch is in front of the television; it's the best damn bed in the house."
Castiel tilts his head, and he's got that look of intense gratitude on his face again. "Thank you, Dean."
"No problem." He scratches the back of his neck, not quite comfortable with the amount of appreciation Cas is showing. "Um, have a good shower."
And finally Cas manages a small smirk. "I'm sure I will. Good night, Mr. Winchester."
"Night, Cas."
Then Castiel is gone, and John turns to Dean. "What the hell is up with that kid? Doesn't come over for two months and then suddenly he's stayin' the night?"
Dean sinks into the chair opposite his father, and gives the short version: how weird Cas has been acting, where they went today, how shaken he seems. He doesn't mention his theories about what happened to Castiel, but he knows that his father is going to come to the same conclusion.
"Shit," John murmurs when Dean is done. He seems genuinely shaken by the story. Not that Dean expected any less - his dad has pretty much watched Castiel grow up alongside Dean; he's the closest thing to a third son that he has.
"Tell him he can stay for as long as he wants," John finally says. "I'll handle his family, if anyone comes askin' around. And Dean…"
"Yeah?" Dean asks when his father just trails off.
"Don't… I know you won't, son, but just don't take advantage of him, all right? He's gonna be looking for someone to turn to, and you're going to be there. And I'm telling you right now, you don't want to start anything up without a clear head, okay? Be a friend, and nothing else."
Dean is blushing something furious. "I won't, Dad. Don't worry."
"Good." The shower has stopped running by now, and John reaches over and awkwardly pats his hand. "I'm proud of you. There aren’t a lot of alphas your age who could handle something like this."
"Thanks, Dad." Dean stands up, cracking his back. "For everything."
John just nods, and Dean leaves him be in the kitchen. He goes upstairs, spends ten minutes making fun of Sam's algebra homework and getting the day's stories from his brother (the gist of it is that nothing interesting happened), and then he pads down the hall to his room.
He cracks the door open carefully. It's dark, the shades on his two windows both pulled down. "Cas?"
His eyes are drawn to the corner of his room, where his bed is tucked against the wall. In the dim light from the hallway he can just make out Castiel curled up on the bed.
Dean's first assumption is that Cas is sleeping, and he's about to shut the door and give his friend some space. But then Castiel stirs and sits up, a blanket draped around his shoulders. "Dean."
"Shit, man." He quickly pulls the door shut behind him. Even in the virtually nonexistent light, it was obvious that Castiel had been - still was - crying.
Dean makes his way through the clutter of his room and over to his bed. Once there, he pauses, hesitating. "Do you want to be alone?" he asks, although it's kind of late, given that he's already halfway to being seated on the bed.
Castiel shakes his head and scoots over so that his back is against the wall. "Actually, no. I would very much appreciate it if you stayed."
Dean nods and gingerly sits next to him. He kicks off his shoes and draws his legs up on to the mattress.
For a moment they both sit there, neither knowing just what to do. Then Castiel makes a small noise and rubs at his eyes, and Dean automatically reaches out an arm and wraps it around Castiel's shoulders.
To his surprise, Cas leans into the embrace, resting his head against Dean's shoulder. Dean takes the cue and moves closer to Cas, holding him, letting him sink down until he's using Dean's chest as a pillow.
Dean strokes his hair, just like he used to stroke Sam's when his brother was younger and had a fever or something. "You wanna lie down?"
Castiel's voice is faint, even in the silence of the bedroom. "That would be nice."
So Dean adjusts their position, carefully sliding down until they're both stretched out on the mattress with Dean's back to the wall. One arm is still wrapped around Cas, who has drawn his legs up into a rough imitation of the fetal position.
Dean winces at the thought. He doesn't really want to be thinking in terms of pregnancy-related concepts at the moment.
He continues to run his fingers through Castiel's damp hair as they lie there together. He's trying to figure out what to say, how to even begin to make this better. There's no sort of manual for this thing, though Dean wishes like hell that there were.
It's only when he feels Cas flinch beneath his hands that he finally has something to ask. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?"
There's a beat, and then Castiel answers, somewhat reluctantly, "A bit. Cramps. The doctor said it was normal; he gave me meds, but there's only so much they can do. They'll pass."
Dean makes a quiet noise in his throat. He's not good at verbal comfort, but…
Carefully, Dean adjusts the arm he has wrapped around Castiel so that his hand is splayed across Castiel's torso. He gently begins to rub small circles in the area beneath Castiel's rib cage, increasing the pressure slightly at Cas's soft sigh of pleasure.
"Is this okay?"
"It's excellent."
Castiel gradually relaxes under Dean's touch, and they just… lie there. Side-by-side on Dean's bed, Dean breathing in Castiel's scent, Castiel quietly accepting what little Dean has to give.
There are so many things that Dean wants to say, to ask: who did this to you, where can I find them, how do you want them to die. But he can tell that Cas is nearing sleep, and his friend deserves that after what's gone down today. So Dean keeps his mouth shut for now, and continues to quietly take away all the pain that he can.