I will always love you

Tattoos and brochures.

Castiel hissed as the guy finished up his latest tattoo, angel wings spreading from his shoulders and down his back. The guy raised his eyebrows and stopped, but Castiel nodded for him to continue. He was almost done anyway.

Physco, who's real name was Dennis, Castiel's guy for tattoos and the occasional one night stand, finished his tattoo quickly. He whistled low, complimenting his work.

"Damn man, I am good." He smirked and got Cas a mirror so he can check it out.

He had done amazing. The detail on each feather was astonishing, and he had made them almost life like, one looking like it was twitching. Castiel smiled and shook Physcos hand, thanking him for it. Physco asked for him later tonight, and Cas smirked and said maybe, teasing always being his favorite game.

He walked home, watching the stars twinkle up in the dark void of the Colorado sky. He thought back a long time ago, when he was a child and would always climb up on the roof of the current house they were in, and would watch the stars and moon until the sun started to rise. He would spend hours just watching the sky, alone and thinking.

He knew he was in trouble when he got home. His father was going to throw a huge fit about him being late, and have an aneurysm when he sees his tattoo, but Castiel couldn't care less. He had lost all respect for his drunk of a father a long time ago, and since the age of ten he'd been doing his own thing and nobody has really done anything but scold him anyway.

He shivered as he walked up the walk toward his front door, and pulled his army jacket around him. He opened the door, knowing it would be unlocked, and saw his dad and brother, Micheal, sitting in the living room, waiting for him.

"Where have you been?!" Micheal gasped, hugging him tight, but his dad just glared at him. Then he slowly stood, coming to his full height, and his gaze went from glaring to full fury. Micheal shrank back and tried to pull Cas along with him, but he stood his ground, glaring right back at him.

"Boy, I am tired of this." And with those words he threw a piece of paper at him. Cas picked it up and looked at it. It was a brochure for this place called postive changes, a boarding school for trouble kids. He glared up at his father.

"You wouldn't." His dad smirked, an evil smile. He looked accomplished.

"I am. We leave as soon as your packed, your expected in two days, and its a long drive."