Gabriel instantly turns to push Castiel back into the house. Castiel doesn't go and Gabriel doesn't push harder. If he pushed any harder, he'd be bruising. Gabriel doesn't push harder. He grits his teeth and faces their brother. "What do you want, Michael? And speak quickly because unlike some people, I actually have a job to get to."

"I want to talk to Castiel." Michael is in the yard by the fence looking annoyed or tired or wary or...

Castiel was never very good at reading Michael, always found him too unpredictable, especially without Lucifer around. He can't tell where this is going or why Michael is there, all he can do is assume the worst.

Gabriel scoffs. "Talk, huh? Is that what you call it?" He has a hand on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel isn't sure what for.

"You don't understand." Michael moves closer. He was ten feet away, now he's six. "You were never home, you don't know what it's like."

"What what's like?" Gabriel asks. "You and your rich little boyfriend being Chuck's favorites, parking in the driveway every day while I had to go two blocks just so I didn't run the risk of embarrassing him? You getting away with everything short of murder right underneath his nose, never having to work for a living, even forcing Cassie to do your chores for you because you were too dang lazy? Yeah, sorry, I don't know what that's like."

Michael's glare is scary not because it's overly dark or angry, but because it's calm and controlled and all the more powerful for it. Anger is so much easier to manipulate. "What dad is like," he corrects. Michael likes to correct people.

"I know exactly what Chuck is like," Gabriel retorts. "He's crappy and miserable and overly pretentious and I don't give a—" Gabriel stops himself, hand shifting on Castiel's shoulder. He's been trying not to swear so much. "And I don't care. Why are you here? What do you want?"

Michael's gaze lands on Castiel, glaring thinly. "That's between me and Castiel."

Gabriel forces a laugh and squeezes Castiel's shoulder. It's meant to be a comfort, Cas thinks; a sign that Gabriel's not leaving. Cas is relieved.

"No, really," Gabriel says, "Why are you here? Chuck is gone, shouldn't you be out celebrating with your awful boyfriend?"

Brutal is the only way to describe the change to Michael's form. His fists clench, his eyes thin, his shoulders straighten to make him look bigger and taller. "Actually, I can't. He left me. Everyone left me."

"I really wish I could feel sorry for you."

A flash of movement crosses Castiel's peripheral, making him turn his head to look. A window curtain finishes falling into place.

But then Michael is drawing his attention back, voice thundery. "You don't get it. You ruined everything, just because Castiel went whining to you about Lucifer throwing a few bad words his way."

"A few bad—You two—" Gabriel is trying not to swear and he bites back whatever insult he was about to spit, grinding his teeth in frustration and gritting out a different sentence. "You broke his ribs, Michael. The nurse said he was one misstep away from a punctured spleen." Gabriel gestures to Castiel. "They still haven't healed. He wheezes at night, he can't sit up straight, one wrong movement has him curling in pain. You broke his ribs, you tore up his back, and you friggin' starved him. 'Not your food to take,'" he mocks. "What the he-heck was that, bro? Of course it was!"

Michael is looking angrier and angrier, trying to interrupt, but Gabriel just keeps getting louder.

"A few bad words?! You jerks could have killed him!"

Castiel doesn't like this. Doesn't like to be talked about or have his hurts out there for all to know. He nudges Gabriel's arm. "Gabriel, stop. Please stop."

Gabriel swallows his next breath. He's been trying so hard to be better lately.

Avoidance is the best tactic Castiel knows. "Maybe we should just go back inside," he whispers to Gabriel. "We can lock the doors."

Gabe nods. "Good idea." He pushes Castiel toward the door. "Go inside, I'm right behind you. I have my key, go ahead and lock the door."

"Gabriel," Cas hisses. He's two steps closer to the door but doesn't go in. He's not that stupid, he can't be lied to that easily.

"He was fine!" Michael shouts. "He was just fine until you decided to butt in! You destroyed Lucifer's mustang and dad was pissed!"

"Gabriel." Castiel stands straight but he feels so much smaller than his brothers. "Gabriel, let's both go."

"Can't even have a conversation without running away, you're such—" Michael swears, and it seems so much harsher coming from him than it ever does from Gabriel.

"Gabriel," Cas calls again.

But Gabriel doesn't go. "If you have such a big problem with everyone leaving, why didn't you work harder to make them stay? Why don't you go after them? Lucifer and Chuck? If you want them so bad."

"I did!" Michael exclaims. "I tracked dad down and begged him to come back, you know what he said? He called me pathetic for wanting him. Like I was a sniveling little child too scared to spend the night away from him. He doesn't want to come back, he hates us." Michael points at Cas, the gesture almost threatening. "And it's his fault! His fault that Dad left in the first place, his fault that Lucifer doesn't want me anymore, that I'm broke and homeless and hungry! It's all his fault! If he hadn't—"

"Don't you give him that crap!" Gabriel interrupts. "You've brainwashed him enough!"

Castiel at Gabriel, not sure what he's been brainwashed about. He doesn't believe the things Michael tells him, he's not stupid.

Gabriel continues. "You're not a victim here, Mike, not even close."

"Neither are you. It's your fault too, all of this. If you'd just left it alone like you always do, always used to, we would've been fine. But you didn't, you had to screw it all up and piss dad off. And then you left. You left with him and no one was there to do the chores or the walk-through and Dad gave up and left just like you did."

Neither Gabriel nor Michael seem to mind that Castiel is not participating in the conversation.

"No one was there to do the chores?" Gabriel repeats. "Are you serious? You were there. Anna, Balthy, Zach, there were four other kids there and not one of you could do a load of laundry or mow the lawn? That's not on Cas, that's on you. You're the oldest, you're supposed to be responsible, you're supposed to be an example to us. To Cas. Not blame him and beat on him just because you feel like it, not pawn away your responsibilities and leech off Chuck until you die. You're such a dick, Michael."

That, Castiel thinks, is what really sets Michael off. He charges at Gabriel and tackles him down.

But when the fight starts, the door opens, and Dean comes running out.

Castiel is trying to pull Michael off of Gabriel, taking a few hits for his trouble, and Dean, smarter than he gives himself credit for, comes out with a phone in hand, threatening to call the cops if Michael doesn't leave right away.

When Michael doesn't leave, doesn't even react, Dean throws the phone inside and yells something to Sam. And then he's right there with Cas, pulling Michael off of Gabriel where they're fighting in the grass.

Three on one, and once Michael is finally shoved away he doesn't charge back in. He points at Castiel. "You're his favorite, you get him back. Fix this since you're the one who screwed it up in the first place. Fix it or I'll never leave you alone, I'll keep coming after you. You and your new family. We'll see if they still want you then."

Gabriel tugs at Castiel. "You were right, let's go inside, come on."

Dean slams the door once they're all in, glaring at Michael through the window.

"Ignore what he said," Gabriel is saying to Castiel, and Dean turns around to look at them.

"He's just a big jerk, Cas. He can't hurt you."

Castiel nods, but he doesn't agree.

The Winchesters didn't mention the bruises before, not really. That was before they were officially made guardians of Gabriel and Castiel. Before Dean had a matching bruise on his jaw from one of Michael's stray fists.

Mary and John's faces fill with disappointment when they see the two of them (Gabriel left for work) and Castiel wants to sink right into the ground. Wants to crawl into the bushes and never come out.

"What happened?" Mary asks.

John tilts Dean's chin up to look at it. "Did you boys get in a fight?"

Castiel shrugs.

"It was nothing," Dean says.

Sam, off to the side of the room, has no qualms about offering up the whole story all the way from bus stop to backyard.

Mary frowns. "Michael," she says, and turns to Castiel. "Didn't you say he came to pick you up from school? I think Joshua Parken said that too."

Castiel shrugs.

"Why do you just shrug all the time?" Mary asks. "You don't want to tell me?"

Castiel very carefully does not shrug. He hadn't realized it bothered her. "It doesn't matter," he says meekly. "That's all."

Now John is frowning too. "Of course it matters."

A slight shake of the head is all Castiel seems able to manage. He wants them to drop it, to brush it off, to ignore it. It's Castiel's problem, not theirs. He's not supposed to bother them with things like this, all it does is make people annoyed. Annoyed that he can't deal with it himself. He's learned to deal with it himself.

"Is he the one who was hurting you?" John asks, voice lowering so that the others can't hear. "I thought it was your father."

"It doesn't matter," Castiel repeats, voice just as low.

John's frown deepens. He seems stiffer and more solid all of a sudden, like a brick wall that would break your arm before it would so much as take a scratch.

When John moves, Castiel flinches back.

John stops, a hurt look on his face.

Mary waves her arms at Sam and Dean, herding them toward their room. "Give us a minute, boys."

Dean shakes his head and crosses his arms. "I'm not leaving."

"Dean," Mary chides.

But Castiel is relieved when Dean slips past her and plops himself on the couch.

Castiel sits next to him. "It's really not important."

"I think we need to talk," John says.

Avoidance is the only tactic Castiel knows, really. The only one that ever works. "Couldn't you just talk to Gabriel?" Castiel asks. "He's better at... talking."

John sighs. He sits on the coffee table and waves his arm to call over Mary and Sam. "Family talk, alright? Come on."

Castiel watches them come closer and feels uneasy. Not just because of the talk but because of the word family and who exactly might be included in that. A question slips out, soft and low. "What about Gabriel?" Is he included? Is Castiel included, really? Or did he just happen to be there?

Mary hums. "You're right, we shouldn't have this talk without him. I think we should wait until he gets home..."

Tension falls unbidden from Castiel's shoulders.

"...and in the meantime, I'd like everyone to go to their room and think about what they'd like to discuss."

Castiel's shoulders lift right back up. Nothing. He has nothing to discuss.

Mary waves everyone off. "Go on." Castiel stands to go but Mary stops him. "Castiel?"

Castiel stands frozen in place, wary and not sure why. "Hmm?"

John is right beside her. Her voice lowers. "We don't have to discuss everything with Sam and Dean if you don't want to, but I think it would be a good idea to include them. Are you comfortable with that?"

"Yes?" he asks, wondering what things are and aren't already going to be discussed, or why some topics would necessitate his permission. That's not how it works. John and Mary are in charge and there's nothing he can do to go against that. Nothing he would do.

"It's okay if you're not. You can be honest."

It takes a long a moment for him to work up the courage. "...I'm not really sure what you're talking about," he admits, and then finds himself bracing for their reaction, even taking a small step back.

"Oh," Mary says, voice high with surprise. Her head cants. "What do you mean?"

It was pretty clear, Castiel thought. But obviously he missed something or misinterpreted something. He shakes his head, embarrassed and nervous and flustered. "Never mind, it's fine, I get it. Sorry."

"No, it's okay."

"Okay." Castiel reigns his arms in close and ducks his head as he starts past the couch. "I'll go... think."

"Wait." John's arm lifts towards him and Castiel jolts to a stop.

He turns to look at John.

"Are you sure you understand?" John asks.

Castiel isn't sure because he doesn't understand. And if he screws this up and doesn't come back out with the right things to discuss, he's not sure what to expect and that's terrifying. He doesn't know the rules here, not really, doesn't understand how things work. They say there aren't real punishments, just talking, and honestly Castiel would prefer a different punishment. He shakes his head, just once, hoping they'll explain what they meant without getting upset.

John rubs at the back of his head but it doesn't seem angry or frustrated, just contemplative. "Do you understand that how you were living before was wrong?" John seems vaguely uncomfortable.

Castiel is too confused to really notice. "Sure," he offers. He's gotten better at lying lately. It wasn't ideal, but he's not sure it was wrong. Perhaps that's not what Mr. Winchester meant.

"Okay." John seems grateful for the affirmative answer. He opens his mouth to say something else but Mary stops him with a hand to his arm.

"Could you just tell me what you know was wrong with it?" She asks Castiel.

Castiel fishes around for the answers he assumes they want. "I... didn't earn enough money to buy food? I let myself be hurt? I..." These aren't the right answers, he can tell. Mary's shoulders are slowly falling and John is frowning and Castiel fumbles and freezes. "I don't know," he says.

"It's not your fault, sweetie. It wasn't you doing something wrong."

John sighs. He rubs the back of his head again. "I think we're on completely different levels here. Jody said something about a counselor, or maybe a therapist."

"I'm okay, really."

John disagrees. "You're good, but you're..." He's trailing off, a grimace on his face.

Castiel can't stop panic from hitting him full-force, leaping to some ugly conclusions for that sentence. "What? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing, Cas," Mary is quick to reassure. "I'm just not sure you understand how abnormal all of this is."

"Abnormal?" That's a worrisome word for some reason, one that Castiel lingers on.

Mary hums. "Tell you what, how about after we have our family talk, we schedule an appointment with someone, just to try it out. Would you want to do that?"

"Sure," Castiel says, even more worried about what must be wrong with him.

After that, he manages to slip away.

The talk that night is not at all what he expected.

Castiel sits on the couch between Gabriel and Dean.

It's safety and calling for adults and and a whole host of things about staying in groups and ways to contact the police and there's just too much to absorb. Too many new rules all at once that Castiel doesn't fully understand, as hard as everyone tries to help. He feels smaller and smaller and smaller as the talk goes on and he's sure he's not supposed to.

It's a long talk, and at the end of it Castiel is too worked up to sleep. He rolls in his new bed and thinks and finally he gets up, wanting something but not sure what. He grabs a blanket and pillow and holds them close as he walks out to the living room.

Gabriel must be awake and hear him because he shifts to look.

Castiel slips down in front of the couch cushions and curls up against them on the floor with his bedding. "I just felt like sleeping out here tonight," he says.

Gabriel hums. A moment later, he's moving. "You take the couch."

"I don't want the couch."

Gabriel won't take no for an answer and eventually, Castiel ends up on the couch and Gabriel on the floor.

They sit in silence for a time, but neither brother falls asleep. "Gabriel?" Castiel asks.

"Hmm?"

"Am I abnormal? Does that... Am I freakish or something?"

Gabriel sits up. "Who told you that?"

Castiel shrugs. "Am I?"

"Of course not. You're the normalest person I know."

"Thanks," Castiel says. He stares at the wall and doesn't close his eyes because he's not sure he wants to sleep.

Gabriel sits up further. "Look, Cassie... Nobody's normal, okay? That's not a real thing and it'd boring if everyone was. And, yeah, maybe you and I are a little bit freaks, but I kind of like it."

Castiel doesn't respond to that.

Gabriel sighs. He nudges Castiel on the arm. "You know all those people that did all those things you read about in school? Einstein and Galileo and Shakespeare and Benjamin Franklin? You think any of the things they did were normal? No, of course, they weren't. They were freaks, all of them, and they saw the world in ways nobody else could." Gabe nudges Castiel's arm again. "Embrace your inner freak, bro, because it's gonna take you places."

"Yours too?"

Gabriel rolls his eyes but nods. "Mine too."

"Thanks, Gabe," Castiel says, much more sincerely than before.

"Now go to sleep."

But Castiel stays up, thinking about all the places he might want to go.