CHAPTER 3 - Apologies

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"You make bad decisions, you pay the price. Some things just can't be taken back."
-Anonymous

\\TRIGGER WARNING//
| Name calling, violence/abuse |

Castiel cried the entire way home. He did his best to dry his eyes and silence himself so as not to disturb his uncle. But it was to no avail. When he walked through the door, the first thing he smelled was alcohol. It burned his nose and gave him a headache.

He tried to step lightly, but one creaky stairwell gave him away.

"Castiel! Get down here, now." His uncle did not sound well. He drank his sanity away and Castiel knew what that meant. He made his way into the kitchen where his uncle sat, empty bottles at his feet.

"Where the hell have you been?" He said, not even bothering to look at Castiel.

Castiel gulped and said, "I was at the diner."

"And who told you that you could go there?" Metatron hissed.

"No one, sir. I just went."

No more words were said. Instead, Metatron got up and gave Castiel a decent blow to the stomach, causing him to double over. The next thing he felt was a bottle breaking on the top of his head and the unfinished beer inside trickling down his face. He fell to the ground and winced as the kicks began to come. He never fought back. And he never will.

Castiel stayed where he was, not daring to move from the curled position he was in on the floor for fear his uncle would return. He let silent tears fall until he heard Metatron snoring loudly on the couch. It was at this time that Castiel made his way quietly up to his room, not bothering to clean or even glance at his wounds before he lay his weary head to rest, all the while those silent tears continuing to fall. People cannot see him weak, but only ghosts of a lost boy's innocence were near Castiel now, and they don't care if Castiel cries. No one does.

When he woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was see if his uncle was gone and off to work yet. Castiel thanked any lucky stars he had that his uncle wasn't home.

He gathered his clothes and trudged off to his bathroom. Before he got into the shower, he examined himself. The left side of his body was bruised and hurt at the slightest touch. There was going to be a scar from where the bottle made impact with his head, which throbbed painfully. And to top it all off, a long scratch running from his temple to the bottom of his ear lobe was clearly visible, due to a shard of glass that made contact with his face rather than the top of his head.

Castiel sighed and started his shower. While he was in there, he thought about Dean, the new guy that seemed nice at first but broke the only thing that tied Castiel to his mother. Besides the locket, he was left with nothing he cared about besides his fading memories. But he can't hold a memory in his hands.

After his shower he got dressed and ate, brushed his teeth and began the long trek to school.

It was then that he realized that Dean will very likely be going to the same school as him. It's going to be a long day, he thought.

About half way through the day, on his way to lunch, Castiel noticed a boy who looked younger than him, but still had him beat by about two or three inches, running towards him. The second Castiel recognized him as the young boy from the diner, he started to turn around. And when he did, he ran right into Dean.

"Cas! Hey, uh...how-how are you?" Dean said.

Castiel already felt anger heating his face. "I'm fine, thanks. Goodbye." Castiel tried to walk away but Dean grabbed his wrist. "Please Castiel, I have no idea what came over me. I don't know why I broke your camera but I know it obviously meant a lot to you. Will you let me buy you another one?" Castiel wouldn't look Dean in the eye, but he knew he was being sincere. But sincerity could not forgive the fact that he broke his camera.

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