to build a home

never supposed to leave

"So that pretty much leaves it as yours, Castiel," Gabriel says, turning to face his brother.

Castiel nearly jumps back to his senses, shaking himself and looking up to meet Gabriel's gaze.

"What?" He asks, blinking. He hasn't been sleeping well, caught in a stir of grief and confusion at the loss of his father, grief renewed at the reminder of the loss of Dean as his best friend, and anger at himself for still caring, still loving Dean even though he knows these affections will have no chance of being returned, and after so many years of hard-fought getting over Dean.

So now, sat in the living room of his old home, going over the matters of their father's will with Michael and Gabriel, Castiel cannot for the life of him keep his mind static and focussed. It keeps wandering off—and more than this, Castiel wants it to keep wandering off: going over who will inherit what feels, to use a rather morbidly appropriate metaphor, like the final nail in the coffin regarding the reality of their father's death.

"The house, Castiel," Gabriel rolls his eyes. "Michael and Hael have their own house, and Michael doesn't really want it anyway, seeing as how he isn't attached to it 'cause he didn't grow up here. I pretty much feel the same way, plus, my work is literally in LA, so it's not really feasible to think of commuting from here."

"It could be your second home," Castiel frowns.

"Yeah, again, Cassie," Gabriel raises his hands, "I'm not exactly attached. You're the one with all the amazing memories of this place."

Maybe. Castiel is also the one with the sour, stinging memories of this place, too.

"But I live in Edinburgh," Castiel points out. "I think that trumps California, just slightly."

"Well, it's whatever," Gabriel answers, exasperated, "the house is yours anyway, so."

"Who says so?!"

"Well someone's got to have it!"

"But I don't want it!"

"Why not?"

"I live in Edinburgh!"

"Please, Castiel," Gabriel rolls his eyes again, "you really think you're gonna live there forever?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Castiel growls out.

"Okay," Michael interjects, before Gabriel can reply with something snarky, "Castiel can easily rent it out, while he's in Scotland. And then, when he's back in the States, he can stay here." Michael turns back to Castiel. "How does that sound?"

"Dumb," Castiel replies frankly. "What kind of person would want to rent a house like this?" He gestures around them. "It's needlessly large, and unless they have a family, they won't be able to fill it, and why would they want to rent somewhere that's so out of the way? Wouldn't they want to live somewhere more central? Also, who in their right mind would want to have a landlord who quite literally lives in Edinburgh?! I'd be virtually uncontactable, because of time difference, I'd live five thousand miles away—"

"It's actually more like four thousand," Gabriel corrects.

"Great," Castiel rolls his eyes, "thank you, Gabriel."

"Geez, you don't have to be so sarcastic about it," Gabriel replies, frustrated. "Why're you acting so immature? We know you're the youngest, Cassie, but this is—"

"Just because you accuse me of being immature doesn't mean it's true!"

"Fuck!" Michael exclaims. Castiel is so surprised that he actually jumps. Gabriel, who clearly hadn't expected the outburst, either, or for Michael to even curse, is stunned into a rare silence. "Dad's dead for what, a month, and you guys take that as an excuse to start ripping each other's throats out? What the hell?! You never used to fight like this, c'mon. What's going on?"