Castiel

I hadn't been able to resist kissing his cheek, he was just too cute when he was pretending to be straight, and it was harmless anyway. Not bothering to check his reaction -I was sure he'd just be frozen in shock and blushing- I made to get out of the car. The night had been long enough and I was so ready for bed. No sooner had my right leg touched pavement when a hand locked around my wrist and this time I was the one who was shocked. Was this idiot finally ready to leave the closet?

My not swollen eye lifted to his and sure enough, as I'd predicted, his face had turned an almost violent shade of red. Still, he held my gaze firmly.

"You're too good for this, Cas. For any of it." Dean said, an intensity in his voice that refused to be ignored. The words struck me like bullets to the heart, pain blossoming like a cruel flower as I took them in, wishing desperately for them to be true. He believed it, he fully believed what he'd said. I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes but most importantly, I could feel it, deep in my core. For just a moment I almost believed it too.

Almost.

Dean didn't know how wrong he was, though. Goosebumps were already forming when the painful memories began to bubble to the surface, the cool night air pooling into the Impala and brushing softly over my busted, swollen face. Between the incident with Lilith, the conversation at IHOP, and now Dean's statement, I was having a hard time keeping the memories at bay.

Get inside now, the logical British voice in my head instructed and I numbly moved away from Dean and his naive words, making my way inside without looking back.

Being as silent as I possibly could so as not to wake Alfie, I slipped into my room and curled up in a little ball at the center of my bed, not even bothering to change or remove my clothes. As I closed my one good eye and drifted off to sleep, the brutal memories of my past surged forward to claim me and remind me of exactly why I was not 'too good'.

~~

I shut the front door softly behind me as I carefully stepped into the two-story house I had once called home. These days it was more of a prison than anything. The sun had set almost an hour ago and I knew I was late again, but hopefully I'd be able to make it up to the relative safety of my room if I was quiet enough. Of course, I should've known I'd have no such luck. I never did.

"Castiel! Get in here now!" A voice called from the living room. The sound of glass shattering echoed in my ears as I stepped into the living room entryway, a brown beer bottle reduced to a pile of broken shards in the far corner of the large space. The TV sat on a simple wooden entertainment center pushed against the wall, the nightly news flashing across the screen. From where I stood, the backs of both the light brown couch and the dark leather arm chair were facing me, but I didn't need to see who was in the chair to know who occupied it.

A few tense seconds passed and then he was leaning around the side of his chair to look at me, his eyes darting around wildly as they struggled to focus on my figure in the entryway. When they finally did, he almost looked like Dad with his dark hair and scruffy beard, but his eyes ruined the pleasant illusion. They were all wrong. It didn't matter that they were the exact same shade of pale blue, they were wrong. Where Dad's eyes had always held warmth and a twinkle of mischief, Michael's were cold and hateful.

He rose to his feet, swaying slightly, and even before he reached me, I could smell the stench of alcohol clinging to him.

"Where were you, Castiel? You weren't home when I got back from work." A sneer twisted my big brother's features as he approached me, his voice low and menacing. From the corner of my eye, I saw Samandriel hiding in the coat closet under the stairs, his eyes wide with fear. Dread crept into me as I realized he would see it this time, he'd see the way our brother would treat me like his personal punching bag. As if it hadn't been bad enough that he could almost always hear it, now he'd see it. The thought made me feel sick.

"WHERE WERE YOU?!" Michael roared when I didn't answer him immediately, not that I would have told him even if he'd given me more time, anyway. I never did. His hand flew to my throat, wrapping around it tightly as he lifted me off of my feet before slamming me onto the floor, effectively knocking the air out of my lungs with the impact.

"I bet you were off doing that gay shit again, weren't ya? You can call it 'dancing' all you want but nobody's fooled by it, Castiel. Everyone knows what you're really doing with that Chan guy." He spat the name out like it was something rotten. "I bet you suck him off after your little 'lessons', don't ya you little faggot? You're a stain on this family. A curse!"

A strangled sob escaped my brother and his grip on my throat tightened, cutting off my airway.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT THEY'RE DEAD!" Michael screamed at me before slamming his fist into my face.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT RAPHAEL LEFT!" I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth against the pain.

"IT'S YOUR FAULT LUCIFER WON'T WAKE UP!" Michael's knuckles pummeled into me relentlessly, diminishing my face to a bloody pulp before he moved on to my stomach. He'd gotten stronger working at the metal factory, I could feel it as he released all of his pain and anger into the swing of his fist. The hand around my neck loosened, allowing me to breathe, but still held me in place. As if I'd move anyway.

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" After one last powerful blow to my stomach, he stopped, the hand around my throat finally disappearing. I curled into a ball right there on the living room floor, blood spilling from my mouth and staining both my shirt and the carpet a crimson red. A hand grasped my shoulder roughly, the fingers digging in like claws as Michael leaned in close.

"This family was ruined from the second you were born." He whispered into my ear and as much as I wanted to believe it wasn't true, I knew it was. I had ruined our family, even if I wasn't sure of exactly how, I knew I had.

I blinked my eyes open as Michael stood, the tears blurring my vision causing him to look like Dad again, just for a moment. He was gazing down at me and I could almost picture the loving look on his face through the distorted lens of my tears. All too soon, my fantasy was shattered as Michael's steel toed boot dug into my ribs with immense force, making me clench my teeth tightly to keep from screaming. Screaming would only make him angrier.

I'm not sure how long I lay there while my older brother carried on with his nightly routine of watching the news, as if nothing had happened. He was just opening another bottle of beer when I felt a pair of arms lifting me off of the ground and setting me gently on my feet.

"Shhh. It's alright Castiel, we've got ya." The French accent of my younger brother, Balthazar, murmured softly. It was then that I noticed the other body lending me support as we left the living room and headed towards the stairs. The door of the coat closet was noticeably ajar and Samandriel was nowhere in sight. I breathed a small sigh of relief at this; he must already be in his room, safe for the night. That thought alone gave me the strength to get up the stairs.

"I've got him from here, Pepé Le Pew. Thanks for the help, now go get your beauty sleep." With one last reassuring squeeze and a warm smile, Balthazar made his way down the hall to his room, closing the door quietly behind him. Once upon a time, this house had been so lively, filled to the brim with laughter, music, and love. Now it was in a constant state of depression and fearful silence.

"Geez, Cassie, it's a good thing we don't have one of those freaky links that causes us to share physical pain. I'm not nearly as tough as you are." My fraternal twin brother attempted to joke as he helped me into my pyjamas. Once that painfully slow process was finished, he eased me into my bed. My whole body ached horribly but I struggled to ignore it, reminding myself that I did after all deserve it. The room was thrown into darkness as my brother switched the light off on the way to his bed on the other side of the room.

"Goodnight, Cassie."

"Goodnight, Gabriel."

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

When I woke the next morning, I was drenched in sweat and tears, my trench coat wrapped awkwardly around me and my fingers twisted in the blankets. Annoyance at the old memory flooded through me as I sat up. That had happened 5 years ago, just a few months after Dad and Lucifer's wreck. I rubbed my hands gently over my injured face, a dark laugh spilling into my palms as I thought of how mild that night had been compared to some of Michael's other "episodes".

The two years following our dad's death had been completely miserable; Michael had stepped up and taken responsibility for the 4 of us so we wouldn't get split up in Foster Care. In order to do that, he'd had to give up on his plans for college and get a full time job at a local factory, which only served to stress him out further. Within his first 2 days working at the factory, Michael had picked up drinking.

Naturally, as soon as we were old enough, Gabriel and I had grabbed the younger boys and gotten the fuck out of there, quickly. Gabe had been accepted into Stanford while Alfie and I made a home here in San Francisco, and Balthazar had gone to stay with Gabriel. None of us had spoken much since, too busy trying to forget the past to stay in regular contact. The last I'd heard, Balthazar had run off to Vegas as soon as he was 18 in search of excitement.

My fingers itched for the cell phone in my pocket when I remembered the conversation at IHOP last night. Dean had mentioned his brother, Sam, was also a student at Stanford. It made me wonder how my twin brother was doing lately, maybe he'd gotten a girlfriend or a puppy. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and scrolled through the contacts list until I came to his name, my thumb hovering over the green call button.

"Cassie! We're out of milk and bread!" Alfie's voice called from the kitchen and I sighed, already pulling out my wallet, all thoughts of Gabriel effectively being pushed to the back of my mind.

Despite the fact that I had the money to restock the groceries, my mood was sour. It had turned out that my car refusing to start a few nights back wasn't just an automotive temper tantrum. Sadly, Le Shuttle de Novak was dead.

I knew better than to call Meg and Ruby on a Sunday morning and Lilith was surely busy battling her own demons after the previous night's incident. The thought caused me to touch my swollen eye subconsciously as I continued to brainstorm ideas. Frustration swarmed my mind like an angry horde of bees and I threw my wallet on the bed roughly whilst I ran a hand through my hair. The small leather rectangle popped open on impact, ejecting its contents onto my blankets, including a folded up napkin. Curiously I picked up the napkin and unfolded it, my heart rate increasing dramatically at the neatly scrawled message on it.

Dean W
785-907-3235

For just a second, I entertained the thought of calling, but in the end I folded the napkin back up and threw it at the mattress. I knew better, Dean was a customer, nothing more, and that was that. Still, even as I continued brainstorming ideas on who else I could call for a ride, the napkin stayed in my thoughts.

It's just a ride to the grocery store. Plus, it's the only option, I reasoned to myself. In all honesty, I could easily call Gadreel or Baldor and either of them would take me without complaint or a gas charge. As it was, logic had apparently been tossed out the window as I lunged for the napkin, unfolded it once again, and punched the numbers in on my phone.

"Hello?" He answered on the second ring, a hopeful note in his greeting.

"Hello, Dean."

"Cas?" I could hear the smile in his voice and I melted slightly at the sound of it.

"Yes, I was wondering if you'd be willing to give Alfie and me a ride to the grocery store?" I asked, being oddly formal and polite due to my nerves. When Dean didn't answer, I began to worry my bottom lip between my teeth, listening anxiously to the shuffling sounds whispering through the phone.

This was a really bad idea, the British voice interjected.

"Of course! I'll be there soon!" Dean chirped at last, the now familiar roar of his Impala bursting to life in the background. I said my thanks quickly so I could change before he arrived, making sure to use a bit of the concealer in the bathroom to cover the worst of my bruises. Didn't want to go out in public looking like I'd just gotten mugged, now did I?

Alfie was in love with Dean's car. He grilled him the entire way to the store and, even though I apologized for my youngest brother's interrogation, Dean seemed genuinely happy to answer all of his questions. There was a special glint to those green eyes when he talked about Baby, as he called her, and soon enough, I found myself enjoying the conversation as well. I may have paid more attention to the animated way Dean spoke than the actual words themselves, but that was beside the point.

This isn't going to end well, that annoying British voice whispered in the back of my mind. I simply ignored it, choosing to instead focus on the bright smile that was spreading over Dean's freckled face as he drove.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

There were a lot of words I could think to use to describe grocery shopping, most of them being synonymous with boring. Fun, on the other hand, had never been a word I would've even considered to be applicable before. Then again, I'd also never been grocery shopping with Dean either, which clearly was a big factor in the whole matter.

Part of me wanted to yell at the tall bow-legged man to 'please stop acting so ridiculous, you're going to get us kicked out for fuck's sake!'. The larger part of me, however, won out and I was laughing unabashedly as I watched him run down the aisle, pushing a cart that contained Alfie sitting Indian-style, a pool noodle clutched in my brother's hand like a sword.

"CHAAAAAAARGE!" Dean shouted.
"ONWARD FORWARD!" Declared Alfie, lifting his pool noodle-sword higher into the air. The two disappeared around a corner and I followed at a leisurely pace, grabbing a loaf of bread from a nearby shelf as I passed it.

They continued in much the same fashion for the majority of our time at the store, and I couldn't help but laugh and cheer them on. At one point, Alfie found the bathrobes and the two of them ran around pretending to be spies for a while, holding flip-flops like makeshift guns. I'm sure the other shoppers probably thought they were insane as they darted around, fuzzy pink and orange robes trailing behind them as they pretended to shoot at invisible enemies.

Dean pressed his back against the end of the freezer aisle, bright blue flip-flop held tightly to his orange robe clad chest, as he slowly leaned over to glance around the corner. He was blocking the waffles and I stood in front of him, arms crossed, waiting for him to move. He ignored me. Finally, after determining the coast was clear, he tumbled across the aisle and pressed his back to a tall chip display shelf.

Alfie was clearly having a blast as he came barreling down the same aisle on a little Barbie trike, his own pink robe dragging on the ground behind him. He skidded to a halt in front of Dean, who's eyes were now opened wide with mock fear.

"Pew! Pew!" My brother exclaimed in a high pitched voice, his purple flip-flop pointed at the overgrown child huddled against the chips in front of him. Dean dropped his blue flip-flop, clutched his chest and dropped dramatically to his knees, reaching one hand out towards Alfie.

"Tell my brother...to cut his damn hair." He gasped out before crumbling to the ground, dead.

I stepped over him and grabbed a bag of Ruffles, throwing them into my cart.

"Your family is absolutely adorable." A lady with short blonde hair said as she passed by us, her eyes crinkling at the corners from her smile, and before I could correct her, she was gone. The butterflies in my stomach went berserk and Dean sat up abruptly, his face as red as the Dorito's chip bags behind him. Alfie seemed completely oblivious to the entire thing as he curiously shuffled through the groceries I'd managed to collect in my cart.

Dean was very quiet after that, making sure to keep his distance from us, having shed his robe almost instantly. Of course, my brother didn't mind this at all, being perfectly content to skip along the aisles and pick out things to add to our cart. Meanwhile, I was busy trying to calm the swarm in my stomach and stomp out the yearning in my heart.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

"Hey, Dean, did you wanna stay and play a game with us?" Alfie asked excitedly as we all climbed the stairs up to the apartment, each carrying as many bags as we possibly could. Second trips are for bitches.

"Uh... yeah, sure, if it's alright with Cas?" His answer surprised me and I nearly tripped on the last step.

Hmmm... spend the rest of the day playing games with my little brother and a man who's afraid of his own sexuality?

"Sure, why not." I replied, unlocking the door and stepping inside. While I busied myself with putting the groceries away, Alfie focused on picking out a game to play and Dean wandered around our cozy two bedroom apartment curiously.

There were pictures of me and Alfie going to do things together -our trips to the zoo, museums and the occasional parade to name a few- lining the shelves in the living room. A box full of report cards and other papers pertaining to Alfie's school life sat in a closet in the hall that separated our bedrooms. He came back into the kitchen just as I finished putting the groceries away, his eyes downcast and a blush colouring his freckled face.

"It's cozy, I like it." He mumbled shyly, clearly still embarrassed over the comment at the store. I couldn't help but laugh a little at that.

"Thank you." I said sincerely, a small smile hugging my lips.

"Twister or Sorry?" Alfie asked suddenly, standing in the doorway and holding up the games.

"Twister." "Sorry!" Dean and I said at the same time.

Alfie raised an eyebrow and glanced between the two of us. Shooting the flustered man beside me a sly smirk, I nodded at my brother, who immediately disappeared into the living room to set up Twister. The panic in those brilliant green eyes was nearly enough to send me into a laughing fit.

"It's ok, Aslan, it's just a game." My teasing only served to make him blush harder and I was sure his skin would stain red permanently if he wasn't careful.

"My name is Dean." He grumbled under his breath as he made his way into the living room to help Alfie move the furniture out of the way.

It turned out that Dean was fairly competitive. Alfie had lost his balance early on in the game and decided to just call out orders. Of course, neither of them stood a chance against me and my flexible dancer's body, a fact that currently had Dean blushing furiously as we were, quite literally, twisted together on the mat.

He was leaning back on his palms, long legs reaching effortlessly across the mat to support him. Then there was me. With one leg stretched out under him, another leg laying across his torso and over his shoulder to reach a circle next to his left hand, my torso had no choice but to twist under his right leg so that my right arm could drape over his left leg. This meant that my face was right in front of his crotch.

Naturally, I had to wink at him. I had made it my personal mission to yank his ass out of Narnia and burn his crown over the flames of his heterosexuality, after all.

Dean gulped, his eyes wide as they took in the proximity of my wicked smile to his groin. He was trapped and he knew it. Alfie remained as oblivious as ever and he called out another order, laughing loudly when Dean lost his balance, though I suspected it had been on purpose.

"Did you want to play again?" I asked, adding a suggestive tone to my words just to make him squirm.

"I think I'm good, thanks." He said after clearing his throat, running a hand through his hair, a nervous tick I'd noticed long ago. Just as I was about to say something else, my phone began to vibrate violently in my pocket and once I dug it out, I saw Meg's name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?" I answered, unsure of why she'd be calling.

"Are you almost ready, honeybee? Me n' Ruby are gonna be on our way soon." Her smooth voice drifted through the phone.

Fuck.

I'd completely forgotten about Date Night. Dean shot me a questioning glance, a small smile still playing on his lips from a joke Alfie had told him. The butterflies in my stomach begged me to cancel Date Night and stay here, stay with Dean.

It was exactly that thought that snapped me out of the daze I realized I'd been in all day, since I'd found the napkin in my wallet. This, what I was doing, was dangerous and I knew better. What had I been thinking, allowing myself to start getting so close? Inviting him into my home?

"Yeah, I'll be ready to go soon." I replied quickly once I noticed I'd been taking too long to answer. The girls both squealed with excitement, making kissing noises at me before hanging up.

"Do I need to leave?" Dean asked once I'd returned my phone to its pocket. I made the mistake of looking into those vibrant green depths, the disappointment evident within them, nearly crumbling my resolve right then.

No, don't! I wanted to say. I grit my teeth at the thought.

"Yeah, sorry, I almost forgot about Date Night." I pried my gaze from his and carefully avoided looking at him again. I knew all it would take was one more glance to change my mind and I couldn't risk it. It was better this way, I couldn't afford to become attached to a customer and I had a girlfriend already anyway. Not that she'd really care, but the fact remained the same. I could not get close to Dean.

"Oh! I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Cas! Is she hot?" His voice was light and joking but I could still hear the dismay in it.

"Very much so. In fact, you see her and her girlfriend almost every night." I answered, already prepared for the confusion I knew that statement would cause.

"Wait, you have two girlfriends?! Dude! Who are they?" A laugh bubbled out of me at the impressed tone of his words and I focused my eyes on the ceiling as I explained.

"No, I have one girlfriend, Meg, and she has a girlfriend, Ruby." I clarified for him.

"The friggin Demon Twins? Woah, nice." He clapped me on the shoulder, letting out a low whistle of appreciation.

"I'll get out of here then, leave ya to it." My heart sank at that but I ignored it.

"Thank you again for the ride to the store. I had fun today." And as I said it, I accidentally met his eyes again. I couldn't quite make out the emotion there, but whatever it was, it sent the butterflies in my stomach into a psychotic frenzy.

"Anytime, Cas. Anytime." Dean murmured softly, his brilliant green orbs dropping to my lips, briefly, but it was enough to send my heart into a hyper fit that rivaled that of the butterflies'. His eyes flickered up to mine again for just a moment, and then he was gone, closing the front door behind him.

I stood there for a few minutes, trying desperately to calm myself down before heading to the bathroom to check on my concealer. There were a few spots where the bruises had started to poke through the makeup that I touched up easily, but aside from that all was fine. The swelling in my right eye had gone down significantly, as had the swelling in my lip. Content with that, I hurried to my room to change, knowing the girls would kill me if I didn't look my best.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Date Night seemed to drag on forever. Every minute felt like an hour and by the time the girls were done eating, I was having a hard time not running to the car. Neither Meg nor Ruby noticed my impatience throughout the meal, thankfully. God knows that would've lead to a big tear-filled fight. I had been so anxious to get home, I nearly forgot the part of Date Night that I usually always looked forward to the most, but now just wanted to skip altogether: the post-date sex.

I gave the girls a lame excuse about not feeling so great and, despite making their disappointment very well known -Meg tried to give me a blowjob in the back seat to change my mind- they finally dropped me off at home. They blew kisses and shouted their wishes for me to feel better until I was out of sight.

Long after Alfie had gone to sleep, in the late hours of the night, I lay in bed dressed in actual pyjamas. I tried my hardest to think of anything aside from Dean and his gold-flecked green eyes. I completely failed at that. It was with a sigh and an angry punch to my pillow that I finally acknowledged the frustrating truth: I was getting feelings.

I had a crush on the bow-legged closet queen.

I'm not sure how long I lay there mentally scolding myself for that undeniable fact, reminding myself that not only was he a customer, but he was too good for me. I was nothing more than a drug addicted stripper who also sold his body after hours. Once I did finally fall asleep, more memories poured through, haunting my dreams and further proving my worthlessness.

~~

"I miss you, Lucifer. You've been asleep for 6 months now. They still don't know what happened to Dad's body, they're assuming it burned in the fire though... Michael has been taking care of us, but he's always so drunk and angry." I spoke, holding my big brother's hand and willing him to wake up.

"I miss you so much." I whispered softly, a tear escaping and rolling down my cheek. "Please wake up. Ever since... since R-Raphael k-killed himself, things have been so bad. We need you, Lucifer. I need you." By this point I was sobbing and the words were getting harder to force out. Still my brother just lay there, no closer to waking from his coma now than he'd been 6 months ago.

The nurses had all told me it was doubtful that he could even hear me, but I came by a few times a week anyway. I would always beg him to wake up, only to be met with the same heartbreaking silence every time, and I always left feeling hopeless and lost, a layer of tears coating my face.

Michael never knew about my visits to the hospital, the only person I'd confided in about it being my fraternal twin, Gabriel. Often times I'd spend hours by Lucifer's sleeping side, reading him books or singing him his favorite songs and hoping desperately that he could hear me. As a result, I'd come home much later than Michael on those days. His outbursts were nearly the same every time: he'd demand to know where I'd been, I wouldn't say, and he'd assume I'd been off dancing with Chan.

It had hurt me deeply at first, that he'd held Chan against me; I had confessed to having feelings for my dance partner to him and my other brothers only a week before the accident. I'd been so nervous to tell them, but they'd all assured me that my sexuality was nothing to be ashamed of. They'd even supported me when I told our dad a few days later, who had also accepted it wholeheartedly. Dad and Lucifer had gone out to pick up supplies to make me a cake, wanting to celebrate.

They never came back.

After the wreck, Lucifer had fallen into a coma from the impact and Raphael had committed suicide out of grief only a week later. The loss of not only Dad, but also the two brothers he'd shared a womb with had driven Michael mad. The first time I came home later than he did, he'd blamed Chan and exploded. After sometime, it didn't hurt anymore when he'd call me queer.

Truthfully, Chan and I hadn't really spoken much at all since the accident, but I never corrected Michael. Somehow, I felt he'd just be angrier if he knew where I really was, and so I took the beatings wordlessly, no matter how bad they got.

It was better he hit me anyway, better he spent all of his hate on me because then he wouldn't have any left to direct towards Gabriel, Balthazar, or worse, little Samandriel. They didn't deserve it, but I did and so I never fought back.

Unfortunately, I should've known that I couldn't protect them forever.

I didn't get home until well after midnight that night, having accidentally cried myself to sleep at Lucifer's side. It wasn't until a nurse had politely woken me up that I'd finally left, hurrying home as fast as I could on foot. Screams tore through the house as I stepped inside and panic shot through me at the sound.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time. Where IS HE?!" Michael roared. My heart beat wildly in my chest as I bolted towards the living room, only to stop cold when I took in the nightmarish scene unfolding before me.

Gabriel was pinned to the wall by his throat, his nose clearly broken, his cheeks ripped to shreds, lips bloodied and swollen, and his eyes quickly turning black and blue. I felt like I was going to be sick, especially when, despite his severely mangled face, Gabriel managed to crack a smile, his whiskey brown eyes shining with defiance, mischief and loyalty.

"I will never tell you." Gabriel gasped out, going as far as to spit blood at Michael.

Gripping my golden haired twin's upper arm firmly, the older boy yanked harshly and twisted it, eliciting an ear piercing shriek from the younger one. His cries snapped me into motion and suddenly, I was tackling Michael to the ground, forcing him away from Gabriel. I climbed on top of the monster that claimed to be our brother and began driving my fists into his face relentlessly.

"Leave. Him. Alone!" I screeched madly, punctuating each word with a punch. I barely paid attention to Balthazar when he tried to pull me off of a now unconscious Michael, too busy relishing in the way his skin gave way so easily beneath my knuckles.

When at last Balthazar was able to pry me away, he had to practically drag me the whole way up the stairs to my room where Gabriel already lay in his bed. He was on his back, staring at the ceiling, a small smile on his face despite the tears streaming from his eyes in torrents. I wasted no time at all in rushing to his side, my hands fluttering uselessly at my sides at the sight of him. I suspected his left cheekbone might be at least fractured if not completely broken, but the worst part was his left arm. Michael had ripped it out of the socket and snapped his wrist.

"I'm so sorry." I cried as I sat on his bed and pulled him gently into my lap, holding him close and chanting the words over and over as if I could fix his broken body if I said it enough. Balthazar's young face drained of all colour as he straightened Gabriel's nose with one quick, rough movement, a loud snap sounding through the room. Gabriel's breathing was labored and he clutched onto me tightly with the fingers of his right hand, burying his bloody face into my chest as Balthazar silently took hold of his dislocated arm.

I watched miserably as our younger brother took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and furrowing his blonde brows in concentration. I hated that he had to do this, he was only 14, and it made my hatred for Michael grow even more. When he reopened his soft blue eyes once again, there was a determined look about him that had me bracing myself as he took a firm hold of our whimpering brother's shoulder with his other hand.

With one powerful motion, he shoved the arm back into its socket, tears filling his eyes at the sickening crunch that sounded. Gabriel's screams radiated through me and the agony that ripped from his lips was enough to do what Michael had failed to do so far this whole time. I knew it, as Balthazar curled up on the bed with us, burying his blonde head into my shoulder and sobbing without restraint, we had finally broken.

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry." I choked out as I held both of my brothers tight, rocking them back and forth softly. When Gabriel's scrams finally died down, he turned slightly to look at me, a small smile ghosting his lips.

"I protected you, Cassie. I guess I'm stronger than I thought I was." Gabriel whispered, pride filling his voice. Not much longer after that, he fell asleep. Michael had been right though, I really was a curse.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Just know, I cried profusely during the writing of this chapter.

Until next time.