To get the horrible stuff out of the way:

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fic and (unfortunately) do not make any money from writing.

Warnings: Suggestions of child abuse, child neglect (this is John Winchester we're talking about) and eventual homophobia. Not very triggery stuff, but still worth a mention. Cheery, I know...

Chapter One- Saippuakivikauppias

The longest single palindrome in the whole of creation is the Finnish word 'saippuakivikauppias'.

This information is never going to save a life, or get you a job, or find you the love of your life; the only visible use of it, in fact, appears to be at certain dinner parties and even then only as a dead end conversation starter. It is a random little fact about weird little words, sentences or numbers that appear to have a metaphorical mirror jammed between them, starting exactly the same way as they finish.

One pairing of words that is definitely not a palindrome is Castiel Novak. All twelve letters arranged in a certain way to produce a certain sound to describe a certain boy with ten not so certain years behind him.

At this moment, this boy was jammed between his massive dresser and a wall, skinny knees pulled up tight to his chest and shoulders hunched while he scribbled in a notebook he'd found in his father's study two years ago. His neatly combed hair was pulled back behind his ears and his eyes were squinting through glasses with slim silver frames at the blue biro scrawl in front of him. Through the open window to his side came the only light in the room, the warm and dry July breeze that came with it carrying the quiet and muffled sounds of lawn mowers and expensive cars.

What a boy his age was doing inside at the peak of the summer holidays was, in fact, writing a list of palindromes. Not, by any means, the most normal of pastimes at any time of the year, but normal had never been something Castiel had known the concept of. So, while other boys pulled wings off flies or ate their weight in secret chocolate, Castiel pondered his life as a living, breathing palindrome who may not be as important as 'saippuakivikauppias' but was just as complicated.

xxx

He had started his life with death. As he breathed his first breath, his mother breathed her last. Castiel was fine with this, he wasn't racked with grief and guilt, it simply wasn't his fault. The thing he was certainly not fine about was the empty gap between this tragic event and him ending up on the doorstep of a hospital, wrapped in a blanket and with a sticky label reading 'CASTIEL' stuck to his forehead. This, other than being sickeningly like a Dickens novel, lead him through six clichéd years filled with care homes, foster families and childhood angst.

Then came Father.

Abraham Novak was the kind of man that had a little house, a doting wife and 2.5 kids. Except he really wasn't. He and his now ex- wife first adopted poor orphan Michael into the Novak family, before she promptly ran off with the local clergy man just to add salt to the wound. For some strange (possibly passive aggressive) reason, Abraham then decided to foster a boy named Luke, followed three years later by Gabriel then Anna and then, of course, Castiel himself.

Father gave him brothers and a sister, a stable home and the name 'Novak'. Castiel owed everything to the man that had created a family for him and so did the rest of his mismatched relatives, for the first times in their lives they had peace.

Then Luke left.

Luke, the favourite son, all smiles and quick wit and a fierce protectiveness over his little family that even rivalled his father's. So full of smiles and wit and love in fact, that no one realized the change in him before it was too late. He left two years after Castiel arrived but not before breaking Michael's nose and Father's heart.

The sad thing about the metaphorical breaking of the man's heart was that it turned out not to be so metaphorical at all.

xxx

So yes, the stages of Castiel's life were, when simplified to the extreme, a palindrome. As written in the first page of aforementioned notebook:

DEATH ABANDONMENT SADNESS HAPPINESS SADNESS ABANDOMENT DEATH

This, when written in blue biro on yellowing note paper, seems a bit morbid, but it kept Castiel grounded. Kept him from floating up into the troubled world of crooked- nosed Michael. It gave him an aim: to smash the figurative mirror and break free from a trend that may or may not be purely psychological.

So he was being melodramatic... and he supposed sitting in his room pondering the meaning of his life was not something any self respecting ten year old would do, it certainly would not help his situation in any case. But it was better than going downstairs and facing his brothers though, so he stayed. Unfortunately, his brothers made a habit of coming to him.

Castiel had worked out some years ago that it took approximately 14 seconds for a person to walk from the slightly squeaky step five down from the top to the door of his room. This, apparently, was just enough enough time to force himself out of the little hiding place and stand up, push the large piece of furniture that had hidden him against the wall and brush the inevitable grey dust off his smartly pressed trousers. Today though, Castiel had only managed to shove the wardrobe before the sharp rap on the door heralded his eldest brother's arrival.

"Castiel?" he hastily ran his palms over his hair to get rid of any misbehaving cow-licks before answering.

"Yeah- I mean yes." The door slid open revealing the tall figure that was Michael. He was dressed in his church clothes- a dark suit and grey tie- his clean shaven face stern, his furrowed brow the only thing betraying the stress that he seemed to drag around.

"What were you doing?" he said, a note of resignation tainting his smooth voice as he took in Castiel's scruffy trousers and rumpled shirt. Castiel blushed and ducked his head, reaching down to tuck in his white shirt.

"Cleaning," he whispered sheepishly, face heating up at the lie.

"Right." Michael said slowly before rolling his eyes, "Breakfast is ready, be downstairs in two minutes so we're not late to church."

"Okay." Castiel muttered, staring at the bridge of Michael's crooked nose so not to make eye contact and squirming were he stood, itching to straighten his tie. Michael turned on his heel and stepped into the hallway, reaching behind him to shut the door as Castiel let out the breath he had been holding. Just before his brother moved out of sight though, he shifted back to look down at his sibling.

Michael was built like a football player, broad shouldered and constantly hitting his head on door frames, completely opposite to the slight and skinny Castiel. And yet they could almost be mistaken for biological family, they both had the dark hair and bright blue eyes, the seemingly ingrained austere posture and long limbs. This made it hard for Castiel to do anything but love Michael that bit more, especially at times like this quiet Sunday morning when he placed two hands on his younger brother's shoulders and looked him navy eye to navy eye.

"You are a good child. You will do this family proud. You are loyal, hard working and you would make Father proud. Do not be mislead by the demons that inhabit this world- this very house, I fact-" at this Michael scowled in the direction of Gabriel's room and Castiel cringed away slightly, "and you will do well. Just remember that for me, okay?"

"Of course." It made Castiel swell with pride as his brother smoothed down his already messed up hair after his spontaneous outburst. Michael only smiled slightly, before beckoning for him to follow him to breakfast. Maybe this Sunday wouldn't be so bad.

xxx

Castiel stared at the blank white wall in front of him, trying to ignore the oppressive awkwardness in the ornate room and kicking himself for being so hopeful. Of course today wouldn't be good, it was a Sunday. Nothing ever happened on Sundays in the Novak's home that was anywhere near good; sons stormed out, fathers got diagnosed and Castiel's stupid brother always flaunted his bruises from breaking curfew. Castiel scowled up at the offending teen but Gabriel just grinned back through a mouthful of bran flakes and milk as he leisurely rolled the cuffs of his sleeves up around his elbows.

He had always been a trouble maker, the rebel of the family, even before things all went wrong. Something about his small smirks just screamed mischief, brown hair pushed back to reveal his sharp eyes and expressive face. Back when he was younger, when he seemed to have some small ounce of control, the tricks and the rule breaking had just been a bit of fun. Now days it was more to anger Michael, who today appeared to be alternating between sneering at Gabriel, reading his paper and seemingly denying everyone else's existence.

This typical breakfast time drama spanned the seemingly infinite time of about twenty minutes, the click of cutlery and the small rustling of Michael turning pages the only sounds. Castiel just kept quiet as he always did and finished half a box of cereal while doing so, making a note to tick off SADNESS in his notepad. Between the three of his siblings, they could more than fulfil the quota for this stage in The Palindrome.

After everything was cleared up and Michael had checked they were presentable, they all trooped out of the house and into Michael's car. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with Anna in the back seat, listening to Gabriel tap out a rhythm on the dashboard and Michael's knuckles slowly whitening on the steering wheel, Castiel almost wished he was back at breakfast. He glanced over at his sister and giggled slightly as she looked him in the eye before slamming her face into her hands. Castiel jabbed her in the ribs and grimaced to stop her before Michael turned around, feeling a little bit more love for his closest sibling regardless of her unrestrained antics.

Anna Novak was petite, pretty and (in the eyes of the many specialists Michael had paid) a mute. Castiel knew that, contrary to the fact that she had not uttered a word to anyone in the two years since Father had died, she could speak. He had a page dedicated to the conversation in his notepad, where she had admitted to being able to talk in scribbled red crayon. Castiel still felt proud at being his sister's only confidant, even if he did feel awful for keeping things from Michael.

Said brother was currently forcing a pleasant and charming smile while parking in the small road outside the church and eyeing Gabriel's loose tie with a hatred. Castiel scowled and prodded the back of his brother's seat while Michael's head was turned so the sixteen year old would face him. Gabriel's face lit up for a moment then darkened at Castiel's frown, before he turned away, reaching for the bunched up material at his elbows and pulling his sleeves down over his wrists.

Castiel brightened at this, Gabriel just needed to get control back and then they could be a proper family again. Anna would talk, Michael would laugh like he did with Luke and Gabriel would stop acting like a child and follow Michael's rules. Castiel was sure Michael was wrong when he said Gabriel was a demon, he remembered a time, before Luke left, when Gabriel was his favourite brother. Surely he couldn't have lost every little bit of grace he'd ever had? He remembered the day he had realized this for the first time and had written in his notepad, with a pencil he had found on the curb outside the house, that he promised to help get the real Gabriel back. He was still working on it.

Michael flicked the key in the ignition and the steady rumble of the engine cut out, leaving him to turn to each one of his siblings to make sure they looked presentable and happy. This, Castiel knew, was all part of the performance. They would get out of the car, file into the church and try to ignore the whispers and pitying stares of all the people inside. You'd have thought that they'd have run out of things to talk about in the two years since Father's death, but they hadn't, the same story of how his most faithful son battled for the rights of guardianship over his siblings still circulating. How his perseverance and faith in the Lord had helped him pull his family through the hardship into happier times.

Castiel was pretty sure this opinion would change if they had a non- conversation with Anna and spent more than five minutes with Gabriel, but he didn't comment as he watched Michael get about twenty shoulder squeezes as they filled their pew next to the alter. Castiel felt the small, heavy smile settle on his face as he pressed his back straight against the hard wood and watched as the Vicar climbed into the pulpit and searched for the right pages in the massive Bible in his hands.

This was going to be a long service.

Next chapter is Dean and should be posted in a day or two. Please RandR, it would be amazingly appreciated :)