Kitty Heaven (Destiel)

Chapter 2 - Unwanted memories

(No one's POV, I suppose)

Dean and Castiel had stayed in that way for a while. When it got later, and Dean wanted to sleep, he took the cat into one of the spare rooms in the bunker, and laid him on a couch to sleep. He would've taken him into his room, but he wanted to shut his door, and he would feel bad if the cat wanted to leave his room during the night and couldn't. Plus, he didn't exactly want his bed covered in fur.
After Cas had been left to sleep, and Dean had also gone into his room and the sound of his light switch being turned off had echoed around the bunker, Sam was left to himself in the hall. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, sat down, and began to think things through.
The younger Winchester was confused about how Dean was acting around the cat, who they had decided to name Jo, after one of their old friends. That and the fact that Jo was neither a boy's nor a girl's name, and they weren't sure of the gender of the small cat. Jo hadn't reacted much when Sam and Dean first started calling him that; he looked a bit puzzled, but I guess you would be, right?
But Sam was sure he had seen something about the cat before. A memory was prodding at the back of his mind, but he just couldn't bring it forward. He couldn't remember.
Maybe Dean was feeling the same.

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Dean's POV

"Get up," Dean poked the slightly younger boy's cheek, smiling softly, "Cas, you need to get up, my brother will be home soon, he can't see us.."
Castiel groaned, turning over onto his side.
"Mm I'm up." He stated tiredly, his eyes still shut and his face buried into Dean's side.
"Yeah, you look 'up'," the Winchester said with a grin, tracing shapes into Cas' lower back with his thumb, "c'mon, put your shirt on."
"Put it on for me?"
Dean sighed, but he was still smiling. He looked Cas in the eyes, and how could he ever say no to that face?
"Fine, but you really are just lazy." The Winchester said, sitting up, and pulling Castiel up with him.
"No, I'm tired. There's a difference." Cas replied, yawning. Dean just scoffed, and grabbed the Novak boy's shirt off the floor. He shuffled so that he was sat in front of the tired boy, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed now, and wrapped the shirt around his shoulders carefully.
"Are you too 'tired' to fasten it yourself?" Dean asked. Nodding, Castiel pouted and gave the older boy puppy dog eyes, practically begging him to fasten his shirt.
"God, you are lazy."
"Tired."
Dean smiled, shaking his head, before starting to button Cas' shirt up. The younger boy's eyes were open, now, and he leaned over (earning a sigh from Dean; it was awkward to fasten his shirt this way), grabbing Dean's top off the bedside table.
"I hate to say it, because you look so much better with it off, but you should put this on too." He said, pulling Dean's shirt onto the older boy.
"Mm, same about you," The Winchester poked Cas' chest, fully fastening his shirt, then sorting his own out, "now c'mon, you need to go."
Cas placed a hand on the side of Dean's neck, gently tapping out 'I love you' in morse code with his fingertips. It was just one of the little things that made the couple unique; they had secret codes and words that they would use to communicate with each other when talking wasn't an option. Dean smiled softly, copying Cas' actions, and gently placing his hand on the opposite side of Castiel's neck.
'I love you too.'
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Dean jolted awake. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the back of the bed. His breath was shaky and coming in short, ragged gasps.
It had been a while since he had dreamt of Castiel. Just the thought of trying to forget the boy made Dean feel sick to the stomach. It was clear that he would never forget Cas.
Never.
And part of him didn't want to. The blue-eyed boy would always be somewhere in Dean's mind, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
The boy got up, stretching as he stood. He was wearing a pair of plaid joggers, mainly because they were a lot comfier than jeans to sleep in, and he had his own room so it wasn't as awkward if he slept without a shirt on. Dean grabbed his watch, checking the time as he walked out of his room. 4:54am wasn't too bad.. He had had quite a long sleep, so he was feeling okay. The boy decided to stay up; after all, there was no point him trying to sleep again - it would take an hour, at least, and by then Sam would probably be awake and wanting help with something around the bunker.
He slowly walked out of his room, squinting his eyes slightly as he switched on the light in the hall. Dean made his way to the kitchen, flicking the switch on the kettle so it started to boil.
No point going back to sleep; might as well stock up on coffee.
Sighing, the Winchester put a couple of teaspoons of coffee granules into a mug. The dream was still bugging him. Just the fact that he called it a dream was agitating him, because it wasn't a dream. It was a memory.
One of Dean's favourite memories.
But the way that it repeated in his mind occasionally made it seem like a bad thing. Dean hadn't meant to hurt Castiel like he did.
Hell, he didn't even know if it hurt him that much. Maybe he didn't even care. Maybe Castiel had forgotten about the green-eyed boy, who had asked, and taken so much from him.
Before he knew it, Dean's coffee mug was smashed all over the floor, and he was breathing heavily through gritted teeth. He had promised himself never to get this worked up about the past, but sometimes.. Promises get broken.

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Castiel's POV

Hearing a smash echo from what sounded like the kitchen, Castiel awoke, eyes wide. He had been put into what looked like a spare room, and was on the couch when he woke up.
The smash scared him. Yeah, it could've just been one of the brothers dropping a plate or cup by accident, but it also could've been a break in, or something of that sort.
Feeling a somewhat unwanted urge to protect the Winchesters, Cas leapt off the couch, his paws padding almost silently along the laminated wooden floor. However, realising that he wouldn't be able to do much to protect the brothers as a scrawny little kitten, he decided to morph into his 'human' form.
Castiel curled up into the smallest ball that he could make, kneading the floor in pain. The change was relatively quick, but it still hurt just as much as the first time he had morphed.
The boy hated the man who had done this to him. The man who referred to himself as 'God'. He was no God. God is kind. God is caring.
God isn't manipulative, or cruel.
After fully morphing, and running a hand through his fluffy, messed up bed hair, Cas stood up. It had been a while since he had been in his human form, and he was rather unstable on his feet. He staggered over to the door, but, realising that he was naked, turned back around and headed towards the wardrobe, that was in the corner of the room. He swung open the doors, revealing a closet full of Sam - or Dean's - clothes. He grabbed a pair of navy jeans, a black t-shirt and a long sleeved, red plaid shirt. After grabbing a pair of boxers, he threw the clothes on, before slowly opening the door.
Cas' vision was good; cat hybrids often shared the same distinct characteristics as actual cats. He was also light on his feet, so making his way to the kitchen quietly was no problem. He was stood against the wall when Dean came into view.
The Winchester was crouched on the floor, picking up pieces of glass and some weird, brown, dust. Castiel stood and watched him for a minute, his mouth occasionally opening and closing. He was trying to speak, trying to say something to Dean, but he just couldn't. Partly because he didn't know what to say, but mainly because he just.. Couldn't talk.
It had been like this for a while. The Novak boy had lost his voice when he was being experimented on. He didn't remember the full details of what happened in that place, all he knew for certain was that he no longer had a voice.

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~Flashback~

Castiel woke up in a small cell, surrounded by metal bars. His head hurt from the impact that 'God' had used to knock him out multiple times, and his knuckles were bloody and bruised. He wasn't going to be passive, and calm, though; Cas had to fight back. Even though his life had been bad recently, he had no choice but to fight back.
"Hey, bastard! I'm awake again!" The boy yelled, his voice slightly hoarse from all the previous screaming and shouting. Sighing when he got no reply, he starting screaming again.
No words were being uttered, the boy was just purely screaming. It hurt his throat, but he hoped that eventually, someone would hear him, or, 'God' would get sick of his attitude after a while, and allow him to leave.
After another couple of minutes of screaming, Castiel began to feel woozy, and could faintly taste metal in his mouth. He stopped screaming, beginning to cough, a heavy stream of blood flowing from his throat. Falling to his knees, he clutched at his neck, still coughing uncontrollably.
"What's wrong, Castiel? Torn your vocal chords?" 'God' asked, strolling around the corner and smirking, as he saw Castiel on the floor of his cell, "at least it'll teach you to shut up. Now sleep, my angel."
And then the Novak boy passed out, blood flowing weakly through his open mouth.
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Cas bit his lip, looking down at the floor. He didn't know if there was any chance of him finding his voice again, or whether he would remain silent for his entire life.
The blue-eyed boy barely noticed Dean storming towards him, his eyes full of hatred and anger. Dean slammed Cas against the wall, holding his forearm over the younger boy's neck, and his other hand on Cas' stomach.
"What are you, you twister little fucker?!"