zannes | Angel on His Shoulder (Ch. 4)

Title: Angel on His Shoulder (Ch. 4)
Author: ZanneS
Genre: RPF/AU/Gen
Rating: G
Characters: Jensen, Castiel, extended members of Jensen's family
Summary: Jensen's whole family might think he's crazy, but at least he's got Nana Ackles.
Author's Notes: Thanks to

moony_mistress for betaing! This story will be comprised of a series of vignettes of Jensen and Castiel at different ages as their relationship develops over the years.
Disclaimer: Jensen and his family own themselves, Kripke owns Castiel.

“How’s Casper doin’, dork?” Josh asked, leaning against the doorframe to Jensen’s bedroom.

Jensen just frowned down at his desk, his spelling list crumpled slightly under his fisted hand. He took several deep breaths, before he unclenched his grip and smoothed out his once pristine homework, hoping Mrs. Kellerman didn’t get mad at the mess. Then he picked up his pencil and began writing his spelling sentences once more, the pencil lines oppressively dark against the white of the paper.

Josh didn’t take the hint, and the lines just grew darker.

“Is Drop Dead Fred too busy to hang out with you today?”

When Jensen continued to ignore his taunts, his brother just shrugged and said, “If your head starts rotating, gimme a shout, OK? I want to tape it for Funniest Home Videos,” before he headed downstairs towards the kitchen.

The lead in Jensen’s pencil snapped, and he sat at his desk frowning at the hole that had somehow dug its way into the paper.

Castiel had become a bit of a family joke. They had always called Jensen an imaginative child, and had cooed and coddled him appreciatively with every tale he’d told about Castiel and their adventures when he was younger. His aunts thought he would become a writer for sure, and he’d heard a few muffled conversations between his father’s friends about how he was a little too into his own head, and maybe he needed to learn how to play football or golf or something before he got too “arty” and went off to some California school.

It had taken Jensen a couple of years to catch on that no one else could see Castiel, that their playful questions and comments were no indication that they had actually interacted with Castiel at all. For nearly two years, his imaginary friend had been invited to dinners, birthdays, holidays, and assorted other family gatherings - though he’d rarely attended - and the ease with which Castiel was welcomed into the family made something inside Jensen’s chest burn warm and soft. It was only when he caught his mother asking an empty chair if it would like more lemonade one hot, summer day that Jensen finally caught on that something wasn’t quite right. Particularly when Castiel was standing right beside him by the sliding door that led out to the pool, where they had planned to spend the rest of the afternoon.

Castiel had even borrowed a pair of Jensen’s swim trunks.

It had all gone downhill from there.

It seemed that the adults felt that having a Castiel got less cute the older Jensen got, and now any hint of Jensen’s imaginary friend led to pinched expressions and muttered comments that didn’t sound as cute and coddling as they had before.

Castiel didn’t seem to care one way or the other about what Jensen’s family thought, watching them talk to the empty spaces around him with his usual focused gaze. When Jensen finally caught on and asked why no one else could see him, Castiel’s response was brief, though it cleared nothing up for Jensen.

“It remains unnecessary.”

Now, even though Jensen didn’t discuss Castiel with his family anymore, his mom or brother would catch him supposedly talking to himself, and he had started to overhear whispered conversations between his parents that involved scary things like doctors and medication.

The only one who believed Jensen was his Nana Ackles. She had a lot of the old country in her, though she had never set foot on her home soil, and had lulled Jensen to sleep with tales of brownies, elves, and the ‘little people’. It was Nana Ackles who had informed Jensen of the purity of salt and silver, had whispered in his ear what really danced within a circle of swirling leaves, and told him what to say when he first woke up on the first day of the month to ensure good luck for the next thirty days.

She was the one who taught Jensen to dream with his eyes wide open – or, as she often put it, he was the only one of her children or grandchildren with the sense enough to listen.

Castiel seemed to approve of his Nana, and Nana was the only one who always made a point to say hello to Castiel when he was in the room with Jensen, not a hint of mocking in her tone.

Nana Ackles ignored the whispered comments and insistence that she needed to stop babying the boy, and would pull Jensen onto her lap when they were alone, asking him what he’d been up to with his friend Castiel lately. After the revelation that his entire family was starting to think he was crazy, Jensen tried to deny he’d done anything with Castiel, even if he’d seen his grandmother watching him and Castiel slay St. George’s dragon from her kitchen window. But Nana Ackles wouldn’t put up with lies or half-truths, and eventually the entire adventure would spill out of Jensen’s mouth, leaving his Nana laughing along with him. She told him to keep Castiel close to his heart, because sometimes special people were lucky enough to get special friends that were there just for them. She said some people called them guardian angels, others might call them imaginary, but they all served the same purpose and such a gift shouldn’t be refused.

Jensen would nod in reply, sleepily nestled in his grandma’s lap, his eyes half-lidded. His gaze was fixed on Castiel’s large, blue eyes peering at him through the banisters on the staircase, the boy’s fingers grasping the black-wooded spindles. The dark shadows that sometimes seemed to inhabit the space behind Castiel were spread so wide they seemed to stretch from wall to wall, bleeding and blending into the darkness gathered in the twilight corners of his grandmother’s house.

When Castiel shifted to ease silently closer, those soft edged shapes folded across the corner of the living room, the angle of the wall bending the blackness until the very tips tickled Jensen’s feet. His eyes slid closed as the familiar tingle of Castiel encompassed him, his Nana’s pleased hum warm against his ear.

Ch. 5...