The headquarters are relatively modest, although they've managed to take over the area around an oasis for their use. Most of the buildings are single storey constructions. There is not a wall around it - the desert would act as barrier to anyone wishing to flee, and it wouldn't be neighbourly if anyone came seeking refuge. People can be seen making their way around the small village - it isn't quite large enough to be called anything but that - busy going about their day-to-day duties.

There does not, really, seem to be anything immediately obviously out of the ordinary about them.

This place wasn't just an uninviting, dreary village, though. Underneath all of that was the reason Castiel had landed in the middle of nowhere, and the reason he was about to gain access to the base of a hyper religious cult.

Well, there's this kid, who's doing his best to seem completely unobtrusive while moving heavy looking boxes off the back of a truck. There's a man perched in the back of the truck, watching him closely, but not moving a muscle to help, occasionally barking something.

(And is that a hint of flame that just wrapped around one of the boy's hands? Briefly, and garnering a panicked look from the boy, but otherwise, completely unnoticed.)

Castiel approaches the compound, careful to stay out of sight when he can, and reaching out with his Grace to check for any sigils or marks that would stop him from getting in. He notices that there are quite a few sigils against angels in multiple buildings, but they don't make much sense, as if they've been drawn incorrectly. The angel doesn't pay them much mind, but stops when he nears the edge of the compound to search for his new charge, a young human being held by the cult.

The boy drops the box he's carrying, one hand batting at the other which is very definitely apparently on fire. The flames flicker out quickly, but the man on the back of the truck saw it - as did the other people scattered around. They're regarding the boy with distinct wariness, almost fear. The man jumps off the back of the truck.

The boy skitters backwards, definitely scared. (The rest of the people seem to have decided this isn't worth their time, that the situation is under control.)

The man catches the boy's collar, and pulls him close enough to deliver and open-handed slap across the face. "You know better, boy," he snarls, then shoves the boy away. "Get outta my sight until you can control it. And don't think I won't tell the Elder."

The boy nods hurriedly, mumbles an apology, and hurries away, towards the edge of the settlement, where there is a narrow gap between two buildings that is probably just wide enough to constitute an alleyway.

Castiel flies to the opposite side of the compound, landing almost instantaneously right outside a small side alley when he notices his charge start to move in that direction. He hesitates a moment, but steps into the alley and stops, waiting.

The boy stumbles into the alleyway, obviously a little dazed from the blow, but does not immediately respond to the other presence.

Castiel steps forward again, reaching out to grab the boy's arm as he comes near.

The boy flinches back, not quite enough to completely evade the grasp, and then goes perfectly still.

"Sorry, sir," he manages, voice slightly hoarse, from lack of speech and fluids. "Didn't- Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to me?" Castiel peered down at the boy, confused. "You have not done anything wrong."  

He keeps his head ducked, searching for an answer to that - there's normally an answer, he normally had. "I- disturbed? You? Sir? Not normally anyone here, sir." (He's trembling slightly now, though that seems to be because his muscles are held too tight, waiting, anticipating something.)

Castiel frowns and shakes his head in disagreement. "You are not disturbing me." He notices the sound of voices getting nearer to their hiding place and starts to move towards the end of the alley that opens into the desert. "We need to go, now."

"W-what?" the boy's head lifts slightly. "Go where? Can't leave." (He is almost painfully thin.) "I-" he half gestures back towards the mouth of the alley. "Elders'll get mad."

"You want to stay here? They're obviously abusing you. I assumed humans had at least some self-preservation instincts. Besides," Castiel adds, almost as an afterthought. "You are now my charge, so it is my duty to keep you safe."

"A-abuse? No! It's not like that! I-I mess up. I lose control. They're just trying to help me. To save me!" It's half-desperate, parroting back something he's obviously been told (too) many times before. (It looks like he would be retreating if not for the grip on his arm.)

Then he processes the rest of what was said. "I- Y-your charge?" He looks almost lost at that. "I- they-" Then his shoulders slump slightly. "Yes sir," he mumbles.

"Yes, you are now my charge. And it is my duty as your guardian to keep you from harmful situations, like this place, and to teach you to control you abilities." Castiel loosens his grip slightly and peers past the boy towards the mouth of the alley. "But we need to leave now. Your Elders will try to stop us otherwise."

"Oh," he says quietly, not moving to escape the grip. He's confused about why the Elders would try to stop them, but... "Yes, sir," he says again, pliant and waiting for further instructions - they're in the middle of a desert, he has no idea where this guy intends for them to go.

Castiel stills, focusing on flying them both out of the compound, but he can't reach his Grace. The sigils that had appeared to be so harmless earlier are the cause, it seems. He turns to the boy. "It appears it will be more difficult than I thought to get out of this place. They have sigils in these buildings specifically warded to allow angels in, but not let them out. I'll have to destroy them before we can leave."

The boy tilts his head, still scared and now very confused, but trying to focus through that. "...Angels? Sigils?" His brow furrows as he thinks. "There's the..." he makes a gesture in the air, sketching out a symbol. "Everywhere."

"I only need to destroy the ones in the center of the compound. Those are the ones preventing me from accessing my Grace." Castiel pauses. "Do you know where those are?"

The boy nods. He's silent for a long moment.

Just as that's verging into uncomfortable he shifts slightly. "I can-" he gestures 'show'.

Castiel steps forward, moving to leave the alley. Just then, a group of cultists armed with guns march past on patrol, but he doesn't seem to care that they could see him if they turn even slightly towards the alley.

The boy moves quickly, tugging the man backwards into the alley. (The patrols were not people he wanted to encounter even when he didn't have a threat of due discipline hanging over him.)

The moment he's sure the man isn't just walking out of the alley, he skitters away, closing in on himself again. "Sorry, sir, sorry," he mumbles. "I can. This way better?" he gestures, half starting in the direction of his gesture.

Castiel nods, turning to follow the boy. "You know the way better than I, I'm sure. Can you get us to the center of the compound quickly?"

He nods, and leads the way, quickly and surely through a series of alleyways. Even with waiting to cross main streets until a patrol has passed, it only takes them about five minutes to make it to the centre of the compound.

The central building is slightly taller than those that surround it, and above the main door there's the same symbol the boy sketched in the air.

Castiel glances cautiously out at the street separating them from the building, and turns to face the boy. "There is a window directly above the sigil. I will make my way inside and reach it from that window. Wait here until I return, I don't want you to get hurt."

"Yes sir," the boy nods, wrapping his arms around himself, and curling in on himself. He won't move.

Castiel hesitates, moving cautiously towards the boy. "Are you... alright?"

That confuses the boy. "Yes sir?" it doesn't sound entirely certain, but that might be more because he's not used to people asking if he's alright than anything else.

"Good." He stands there, slightly awkwardly. "That is good. I will be back soon." Castiel turns to look back out at the street, only slipping across the packed dirt when the coast is clear. He disappears from the boys sight into the alley opposite him and entered the building through a side door. The halls, sterile and bright compared to the rest of the compound, are empty of people, and the only sign of life is the sound of voices from behind closed doors.

By the time he makes it to the room with the window he needs, Castiel had only run into one guard, who is now knocked out and bound in a storage room. The room itself is also empty, seemingly just another office for a higher up of the cult. The window is shut and locked, but not for long. A few moments later, Castiel is leaning precariously over the ledge, pulling out his angel blade to scratch at the paint of the sigil. He has four of the lines broken, and is working on the last, when someone on the street below walks past and sees him. The angel hears the shout and makes one final, deep scratch through the paint and into the stone before pulling back into the room and racing back down out of the building. All he needs to do now is get outside and to his charge so Castiel can finally fly them both out of this place.

Someone - possibly the one who shouted - has caught the boy by the arm and is forcibly dragging him away from where Castiel left him. Not that the boy is putting up much of a fight. His head is ducked down, and he's following obediently, flinching at the accusations being thrown at him, but not arguing.

(There's flames flickering off his fingers, wispy, barely there things that no-one seems to have noticed.)

Castiel sprints across the street back to the spot where he left his charge, only to discover he was no longer there. When he turns back onto the street, he sees a cultist, seemingly the one who had raised the alarm, dragging the boy away. Castiel chases after them, not willing to lose his charge, not when they are so close to getting away.

The boy spots him, and there's a moment of utter confusion on his face. (Why is the man bothering? He's not that important. There's guns.)

The man dragging him cuffs him sharply over the back of the head, barks for him to hurry up.

The flames around his fingers flare, up to his wrist, and the man drops his hand with a startled shout. The man pivots, and the backhand he delivers the boy knocks him from his feet.

The boy scrambles backwards, the flames flaring up around him, panicky and trying to stop them. (His body temperature has jumped up, if anyone can notice that, and there's something else as his powers flare, almost a second consciousness controlling them.)

Castiel reaches the boy just as he is knocked down onto the road, powers flaring out of control. He reaches out with both his arms and his Grace, pulling his charge away from the guards. Castiel's grace wraps around the boy's consciousness, restraining his abilities just enough to keep him from hurting himself. The angel stands up, pulling the boy up with him, and with his other hand points his angel blade at the crowd in front of them.

The boy flinches, and then goes very still again, barely even breathing. (He's confused as well, because this doesn't feel like he's managing to control his flames.)

The man who had hit him, now has a gun pointed at Castiel. "What- Who even are you?" he demands. "And I suggest you give us back what's ours. The boy," the word's spat, "isn't worth protecting anyway. He's only good for doing what he's told, when he's told." The glare directed at the boy is venomous.

Castiel stares coldly back at the man. "If you value your life, you will watch how you speak about my charge. This boy is powerful, and he needs to learn how to control and utilize his abilities in a safe environment. Not a place like this." 

That gets a derisive snort. "Your charge? Since when? Boy belongs to us. And what're you even going to do to us, huh?"

The man looks at the boy. "And you know what you should do if you know what's good for you."

He's shaking now, and mumbling quietly, not entirely consciously: "nonononono."

(He doesn't want to do whatever that order contained, but he's so scared, and he doesn't want to face the punishment he knows is coming anyway...)

Castiel frowns down at his charge, concerned, and adjusts their positions enough so the boy is standing behind Castiel before he levels another cold glare at the small crowd. "My mission is no business of yours, but this boy is under the guardianship of an angel of the lord. He will not be harmed, unless all of you wish to suffer the wrath of heaven." Castiel stands up taller, allowing a bit of his Grace to shine through his eyes and weave into his voice. 

The boy curls further down, managing to look impossibly tiny while still stood upright. He flinches at the tone, at the manner. (Isn't sure why he isn't responding to the order.)

When the man starts talking about angels and heaven, Nova starts shaking harder. (It's heresy to claim that, heresy to think that, but what if the man is? Surely he's only here to tell him that he's damned for his powers, and not having better control, andandand...)

There's a moment of hushed silence, and then a voice - not the man at the front, who is staring at Castiel in what could be mute horror - yells out: "Heresy!"

But there's fear there, a reluctance to engage, even if most of these people agree that it is heresy. A concern that they might be wrong. And: what if this man is what he says he is? There's still guns levelled at the pair, but they're lowered a little now, and no-one seems quite sure of what to do.

There is no outward response from the angel, only a terrifying glare still being leveled at the crowd. It is time, Castiel thinks, to finally get his charge out of this toxic place. Without so much as a parting threat, Castiel spreads his wings, and takes off with the boy in tow.

The crowd startles and jerks backwards.

The boy startles as well, and then goes very, very still. (He wanted to escape but he needs an opening.)

Castiel is gone before anyone has a chance to even blink, and less than a second later, they both touch down thousands of miles away from the compound. The town they land in is empty, with the almost eerily quiet air of a place that has been deserted for a long time. The buildings around them aren't crumbling, but they have most definitely seen better days. Castiel lets go of the boy and takes a step back. "Are you alright? Flying can be quite disorienting for humans the first few times."

He skitters several steps away, hunching down on himself, and wrapping his arms around himself. "Fine, sir," he says, even if it's not entirely accurate. (He is somewhat disoriented, and his movements were somewhat unsteady.)

Castiel steps towards him hesitantly, confused. "Are you are? You don't seem fine. In fact, I would have expected any human in your position to be not at all fine."

He's still for a moment, and then gives a slight shrug. "Fine as always?" That seems like a safe answer. (He doesn't know what this man wants right now, isn't entirely sure how to find out without straight up asking.)

The angel doesn't seem very convinced, but lets it go. "What is your name, child? You are my charge, but I don't know much about you."

"Uh, Nova, sir?" it doesn't sound entirely certain, but it is what he'd been called by some of the people around him. He keeps his eyes on the ground, and doesn't say anything further.

"Nova. That is a strange name." There is an awkward pause. "I assume you'd like to know a bit more about what is happening?"

He does. He really does. But. "Don't need to bother, sir. Good at doing what I'm told."

"Doing what you are told isn't the point here, Nova. It is my mission to help you learn to control and utilize your abilities, not to blindly follow orders."

"I can control it!" Nova's words are desperate, trying to avoid any need for being punished. "I'll do better, I promise. I can do it."

"You've done well so far, I am not saying you haven't." Castiel looks concerned again. "I'm simply saying that you will benefit from additional help in mastering your abilities. I do not have any intention of harming you."

Nova clearly doesn't know what to do with that. He desperately wants to believe the words. (But it wasn't harming him, it wasn't. He needed to be taught, he needed to know when he'd got it wrong. He hurt people when he got it wrong.)

"Yes sir," he agrees helplessly.

Castiel nods, oblivious to Nova's discomfort. "Do you have any human needs to take care before we begin? You were not very well cared for at the compound."

Nova shakes his head. "I'm fine, sir." (He's a little thirsty, he'd been working in the sun for hours before the man appeared, and he hasn't eaten since last night, but he's fine. He's gone longer on less.)

"Are you sure? Your soul seems exceptionally weary, even before we landed here. I would recommend resting until you've recovered some. It would be dangerous to practice with your abilities while you aren't fully mentally fit."

There's a long pause. "I-if you think that's best, sir?" he says quietly, watching the man out of the corner of his eye, looking for somewhere to curl up if he said it was okay.

"Yes, I think that would be best. There is an empty house just across the street. You can rest there." Castiel turns and walks towards the house, which for some reason is not nearly as old and beat up as the buildings surrounding it.

Nova follows, head ducked low. He doesn't really want to, he doesn't want to know what the man wants. But. For now, better not to anger the man. So he follows.

Castiel shows the boy to a bed where he can sleep, but doesn't immediately leave. "Do you have any questions you want answered? It's been a long day, and you seem confused."

Nova bites at his lips, hands clutching at the hem of his t-shirt. "I- Did you. Want. Something, sir?" (There's no clear impression of what exactly he's asking there, but he sounds almost resigned, and definitely scared.)

Castiel frowns, confused. He doesn't make a move towards the boy, though, since he is obviously anxious about Castiel's presence. "No I do not need anything from you. I was just asking you that question."

He is confused, but... He isn't even sure what he needs to ask to change that. (If he could even bring himself to ask in the first place.)

He shakes his head instead, watching the man out of the corner of his eyes. "No sir," he murmurs.

"Alright then. I'll leave you now." Castiel back awkwardly out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. He has no idea how to deal with this boy, and its seems like every move he makes is the wrong one at this point.

Nova stays frozen in place for a moment, making sure he's honestly being left alone. Once he's sure, he tucks himself under the bed frame, and curls up as far under it as he can get. (He shouldn't hide like this, but it's safer for sleeping, no-one can just grab him.)

He sleeps fitfully, but is (thankfully) never at risk of setting the bed on fire.

Angels do not sleep, so Castiel keeps watch in the main room. He is sitting in the same spot the next morning, and waits for Nova to wake up.

Nova wakes up early (he had to if he even wanted a chance of getting fed). He is very clearly not anticipating encountering anyone in the main room when he enters it.

"Hello Nova. We're you able to get adequate rest?" Castiel stands and moves towards the kitchen. "There is food in the refrigerator if you are hungry."

"Uh. Yes sir?" Nova nods, following Castiel towards the kitchen. (Although he keeps a reasonable distance between them.) He looks at the refrigerator, but doesn't make any move to approach it, despite being hungry. His stomach growls audibly, and he flinches.

Castiel notices that he won't come any closer, but doesn't comment. He opens the fridge and sticks his head inside, rooting around for something the boy might like. "What is your favorite food? What about eggs? There are three cartons in here."

He doesn't have an answer to the first question. He ate what he was given and was thankful he was fed.

"Eggs are fine, sir," he agrees quietly.

Castiel nods and pulls one of the cartons out, setting it on the counter. He doesn't move to start cooking though, instead staring warily at the food as if it was some unknown alien lifeform.

"Um. I can. Make them, sir?" Nova offers quietly after a moment. (He's pretty sure he can manage scrambling or boiling an egg.) "No need to. Put yourself to any trouble. Sir."

"Hm?" Castiel looks up, and then glances confusedly back down at the eggs. "Alright. Thank you." Castiel steps back out of the kitchen and moves to stand against the wall, making it easier for Nova to take over.

Nova is still slightly hesitant, but he moves over to the counter. He's definitely not an expert cook, but he manages to make some scrambled eggs without burning them. He's made more than enough for one, but only takes a far-too-small portion for himself, the rest clearly meant for Castiel.

Castiel glances down at the rest of the eggs, and pushes them back towards Nova. "I do not require food. It is all for you."

Nova stares at the rest of the eggs, looking completely confused, and a little bit sick at the idea of that much food.

"You...don't...?" he's definitely confused by the idea of that. (And panicky, because he needs to be useful.)

"No. I am an angel, and we do not require basic human functions to survive. You seem weak for a human, though. You should eat."

Oh. Yeah. That. He'd been...trying not to think about the angel thing. He still doesn't get why he's not being told he's damned by a supposed angel when that's all he'd ever been told before.

He looks at the plate of eggs again. It's far too much for him. He knows it is. But. It's wasteful, and being wasteful is at least as bad as being a glutton. He licks his lips, and starts eating, reminding himself to eat slowly (rushing was ungrateful, and liable to get food taken off him), but not too slowly (dawdling wasn't tolerated, and could have the same result). He barely gets a third of the way through the plate before he's too full. He tries to keep eating (he feels sick). (He keeps darting looks to Castiel, trying to figure out how mad the man's going to be.)

Castiel doesn't move any closer to him, but is obviously concerned. "You're in distress. What happened?"

Nova shrinks in on himself. (He isn't necessarily good at hiding his emotions, but no-one's ever drawn attention to it, not unless they were going to mock him.)

"I. It's. Too much?" He flinches.

"Too much?" Castiel pauses, understanding. "Ah. You mean the food is too much. Of course, that is completely expected. I'm sure your prior guardians did not give you adequate food. You needn't eat it if you are full."

That gets a slightly startled look aimed at Castiel's chest. Nova is still cautious to waste that much food, but if he eats any more he will probably be sick. Instead of pushing himself on the matter, he sets about cleaning up the dishes he made.

(He seems, a little, to be trying to find busy work to do.)

"You don't need to worry about those. Would you like to go outside? If we are going to train, it's best not to do it inside."

He blinks at little, hesitantly sets the dishes neatly on the counter, and nods. "Yes sir," he sounds a little hoarse, and a little like he's worried about what's going to happen.

Castiel leads him outside to where the square they had been in the previous night and turns to him. "Before we begin, do you have anything to ask of me?"

"Why?" he asks before he can stop himself. "-Sorry. Didn't. S'fine. Nothing, sir."

"Ask, Nova. There isn't a reason to hesitate."

"Why're you doing this?" In that is 'why are you being so nice?' "M'damned either way?" He sounds like he honestly believes that.

"Damned?" Castiel seems honestly confused. "You are not damned Nova. And I'm 'doing this' as you say, because its in your best interest, as well as the best interest of the world, for you to be able to control and harness your abilities. If used correctly and wisely, they will be a great asset to you."

He stares at Castiel's knees, trying to make any of that make sense. He takes a deep breath. (It being good for other people he can understand, it was too easy to hurt people if he couldn't control it.)

"I-" he nods. "Yes sir. As you say."

"Good, let's begin." Castiel moves to stand directly in front of Nova. "As you know, an untrained Nephilim like you poses a great risk to others as well as yourself if you allow your powers to run rampant. The best way to combat this is to work first on your concentration and self-control. You need to learn how to tune into your own Grace if you ever want to develop control over your abilities. Close your eyes." Castiel spends the next three hours working with Nova to help him tap into his Grace, as well as practicing his own self-control. He finally calls for a break, and turns back towards the house. "You're doing well, Nova."

He does- not actually know that. (Nephilim? What?) But he's not going to say anything, just nods like he understands.

He's an obedient and focused student - if flinchy when he thinks he's getting things wrong - and definitely seems eager to learn - whether just for the safety of not accidentally setting things on fire, or for other reasons, it's hard to say.

When Castiel calls a break, he's relieved - it might not be the back-breakingly physical work he's used to, but it's exhausting in its own way. "I- uh, as you say, sir? Thank you?" (He has no idea if he is, but he'll take Castiel's word for it.)

"You're welcome. You're picking all of this up very quickly." He was silent as they entered the house, but as they passed the kitchen Castiel glanced over, unsure. "Are you... hungry?"

There's a tiny, tiny smile at the praise, and a faint flush of something that might be pride.

He shrugs at the question. "M'fine, sir," he murmurs - he's already eaten more than he expected to in one day this morning, it would be greedy to ask for more.

Castiel doesn't seem convinced. "Really? Humans, even ones who are part angel, tend to have a need for food, especially after exerting themselves."

"I- uh- It's- fine? I-" he didn't need that much. "I- gone. longer, on less?"

Castiel frowned. "There is no need to strain yourself more than you already have. It is no trouble. What do you like to eat?"

He gives a small shrug. "Eat what m'given, sir. Not fussy."

"Fruit then? I know there is some in the refrigerator." Castiel turns into the kitchen and rifles through the refrigerator for a moment before coming back with a loaf of bread and an egg. "Toast and eggs." He turns back to the stove with a pan and pops a piece of bread in the toaster. "It should be ready shortly. You can sit if you like."

He twists his fingers together, opens his mouth to offer to cook but...

He doesn't take a seat, not quite relaxed enough to do so, stays by the wall by the door, just...watching. (And waiting.)

Castiel is silent while he cooks, not attempting to start a conversation. When it's ready, he hands the plate to Nova and turns towards the kitchen door. "I need to go out, there isn't much food here, and you need to eat. I'll be back in a few hours."

He takes the plate with a quiet 'thank you'.

"I- don't need that much, sir, c'n eat less."

"Your health is important. That isn't a point of argument." Castiel reassured his, albeit a bit awkwardly. He paused for a moment, staring curiously at Nova, before taking off, leaving the boy on his own.

"As you say," Nova says to the empty space where Castiel just was. He stares at the plate for a few moments before settling down to eat. It's strange not being supervised while he eats, but also easier to actually eat.

He still can't quite finish the plate, but does eat most of it. He sits for a few minutes, thinking.

And then he sets about cleaning the house starting in the kitchen. He'll work his way through the entire house while Castiel is gone, thorough and efficient even with the lack of disturbance to the house so far.

The absence also leaves Nova unsteady and unsure - Castiel had left because of him, and Nova knew he was just a burden and needed to earn his keep any way he could. Knew that more than just learning to control his flames would be needed. (That wasn't payment, that was something else he owed for.) And he needed to make sure he was useful.

By the time Castiel gets back, Nova is on the verge of panicking, but somehow strangely calm, resigned and resolved.

Castiel is gone for most of the day, collecting groceries along with a few other errands. By the time he gets back to the house it's getting dark, but nothing else seems to have changed in the slightest. When he steps into the house, the smell of cleaning solution hits him strongly, but the angel ignores it and steps further into the house, calling for Nova.

Nova is quick to respond, hurrying into the hall. He doesn't immediately say anything, but does tilt his head, half-waiting for an instruction.

He walks into the kitchen, setting down a few bags full of groceries. "How was your day?"

"I- cleaned the house, sir," Nova responds quietly, following after Castiel.

(And indeed, the kitchen doesn't look like it's been used at all.)

"I- yours, sir?"

"Fine. I bought food and a few other necessities." He glances around the kitchen, surprised. "You didn't need to clean, Nova. I can clean it instantly. You shouldn't have to concern yourself with that."

He goes briefly still. "I- got to- earn my keep, sir? Somehow?" There's a slightly obscure offer in there.

"There isn't a need for that. You don't have to earn your keep here, Nova. You don't need to concentrate on anything other than your training."

He knows this game, it always hurts worse when they said he didn't owe them, that he didn't have to earn anything.

He steps closer, shaking now. "I- I can...make you feel good?" he offers, hesitates, and then drops to his knees.

Castiel stared down at him, confused. "What are you doing?"

...he has...no idea how to respond to that. No-one has ever been confused by this offer before.

"I-" he starts, and then makes a vague gesture towards Castiel's belt. "Could...that." (He doesn't seem comfortable talking about this, if anything, he seems scared.)

Castiel stares blankly down at him, "I don't understand." There is a long moment of silence between them, but Castiel's eyes suddenly widen in shock. He kneels down, uncertain. "Are you talking about sexual acts?"

He hesitates and the nods, lightning fast and just once. "Yes sir."

Castiel stands abruptly, backing away a few paces. "You're a child, Nova. I would never dishonor you in such a way." 

Nova flinches and goes still. "I-I'm- sorry, sir, I- didn't mean to-" (He doesn't seem to realise that it's his own honour Castiel is concerned about rather than Castiel's, like he missed the end of the sentence.)

"You don't need I apologize." Castiel tries to awkwardly reassure him. "It is the fault of whomever conditioned you to feel like you need to repay kindness with intimacy." He takes a step back toward the boy, hesitating. "You need not worry about here. I won't let any harm come you."

He twitches away when Castiel moves back towards him. Tries to find the words to explain that it was- it was all Nova not the- not anyone else. (He can't though, not really.)

"I- as you- say, sir?" he whispers at the last - he doesn't believe Castiel, not really, he can't (he wants to).

Castiel doesn't seem to fully believe that he's accepted it, but lets it go. "Very well." He turns back towards where the groceries are sitting on the counter. "It's late. I'm sure you're hungry. We can continue training after you eat."

He ducks his head, thinks - he's...not entirely certain he could actually eat that much more. "I- you've- had more today than I normally get?" he says quietly. "It's...but whatever you say?"

"I see. Because you've been so underfed for so long, you've now grown unaccustomed to food." He hesitates. "If you're not too tired, we can train now."

He nods. "M'fine sir, can train if that's what you want?" (He doesn't sound completely certain, but that might just be that he isn't certain about anything.)

Castiel considers for a moment. "We can train in here. There are some less strenuous excercises I can show you." He turns to go into the living room. "We can go in here."

"Yes sir," he agrees, and will follow him into the living room.

This type of schedule continues for days; a meal in the morning, training, usually another, smaller meal, and a more relaxed training session. The two are still highly uncomfortable around each other, trying to make the right moves and say the right things, which of course gets them nowhere.

Nova continues to be an attentive and focused student, if wary of getting anything wrong. (Mistakes he makes are met with panic, and attempts to make it right, in the futile hope it won't be noticed.) But he does make progress, even if he doesn't exactly seem to think he is.

He still tries to clean and tidy, and when he's not being trained, he moves around quiet as a mouse, trying not to attract any attention. It's probably not obvious that he isn't really sleeping as much as he should.

Castiel comes back from another shopping trip to replenish their supplies, and moves immediately to the kitchen to put them away. "I'm back now, Nova!" Castiel calls.

Unlike previous instances of this, Nova doesn't immediately appear in the kitchen to greet him.

Castiel doesn't go to check on him right away, assuming he's fine. By the time he finishes unpacking the supplies, though, Nova still hasn't made an appearance. Castiel wanders deeper into the house, scanning for the nephilim. He's starting to get concerned. 

Most of the rooms are empty. In fact, Nova's room appears empty as well. The bed has been shifted slightly, however, leaving a gap between the headboard and the wall that is probably just big enough for him to fit within.

Castiel walks up to the gap, quiet, careful not to scare Nova. "Nova? Are you hurt?"

He still flinches when Castiel addresses him, half starts to scramble out. "I- m'fine?" he says.

(His arm is bleeding, from scratchmarks probably made by his nails, but he uses his other hand to cover that.)

"Why is your arm bleeding?" He leaves space between them but kneels down next to the boy. "What happened? Were you attacked?"

"I- no? I just- I didn't mean to?" he flinches slightly, curves his hand tighter around his arm, nails starting to dig into skin.

Castiel reaches out and grabbs his injured arm by the wrist, pulling it gently toward him. "You've been doing this to yourself." There is a long pause. "Why?"

He makes a low scared sound, briefly tries to escape the grip and then goes pliant. "i- it's- I don't-" He isn't sure he can explain, but not being hurt had felt wrong, and unsafe, and- "Should be hurt," he mumbles, low and worried. (He doesn't want to be, but he knows he should be.)

Castiel lets go of his wrist when he started to struggle but looks profoundly confused. "Why is there any reason for you to be hurt? It is my duty to prevent you from being hurt, Nova."

"I-I I know you've been- helping me. And I'm grateful. I am." (It's important Castiel knows that.) "B-but I'm wrong. And bad. And the-the only way to fix that is to- to- remind me. And hurt me. And-and-" his voice catches and gives out and he curls in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and burying his face into them.

"There is nothing bad about you, Nova." Castiel sounds almost urgent, he doesn't understand how Nova could actually be so disparaging of himself. "Hurting yourself won't do anything to help. I apologize for not realizing how you felt earlier. I could have prevented this."

"But- I- They always, they always said-" he rocks himself. "They said I had to- they had to- they had to- make me- I- they told me." (There's a level of 'why would they lie to me?' wrapped in his words.)

"They told you those things to make you cooperate. To make you obey. There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing that needs fixing." His voice is quiet but intense. He wants Nova to understand this.

Nova stills, staring blankly at Castiel's shoulder. That doesn't-

It sounds too good, sounds wrong (he wants it to be true).

"I- as- as you say," he mumbles eventually, the closest he can get to agreement.

Castiel nods, standing. "You should clean that wound soon. It will heal quickly on its own, but you should make sure it stays clean nevertheless." He turns to go but pauses at the door. "Are you going to be alright alone?"

He nods quickly. "Yessir," he says hurriedly.

Castiel nods, though slightly unconvinced. "I will leave you alone then. Come into the kitchen when you're ready, if you want to eat something."

"I- yessir," he agrees.

Once he's left alone, he'll tend to the scratches. It takes him a little while of tilting the words in his head before he decides that it was an instruction to go to the kitchen, and does so.

While Nova is cleaning himself up, Castiel prepares a plate of food for him in case he wants to eat. He sets it out on the counter when Nova walks in. "How are you feeling?"

"I- fine, sir?" It sounds far more like a question than it should, but isn't necessarily wrong.

"Good." Castiel offered him an awkward smile. "Are you hungry?"

He's briefly quiet. "I- uh, I could eat, sir?"

Castiel hands him a plate of food. "I'll let you eat." He leaves the kitchen and makes his way up to the bedroom where he'd found Nova. He crouches down next to the bed and searches on the carpet until he finds what he is looking for. A razor, still slightly bloody, is lying on the floor next to the wall. Frowning, he picks it up, dropping it in the trash can on his way out.

When he gets back to the kitchen, Nova's finished the food, and cleaned his dishes, and is stood, fingers twisted together anxiously.

"Do you feel in the right state of mind to train? Or would you prefer to rest tonight?"

"I- I can train sir!" he insists, almost desperately. (This is what he's supposed to be doing here.) "I'm fine! I promise!"

"Alright then, let's start then." Castiel still seems doubtful, but leads Nova into the living room. "You've been making progress with your concentration and your control, so I am hoping to show you a few, more complex, techniques in order to stretch your ability."

He follows quietly, and nods slowly to what Castiel is saying. "I- what do you- need me to do sir?"

"I need you to focus inward and latch onto our grace, like we've been practicing." He pauses for a moment. "Do you have it?"

He does - if barely, he's unsettled, and off-centre from Castiel catching him earlier. He nods carefully.

"Good." Castiel nods, pleased. "Now take your hold on your grace and push it outward, away from your body. Focus it on something in this room. Feel your grace envelope it." Castiel pauses, waiting for Nova to nod that he's there before continuing. "Think of something simple, a simple action or task you want that object to complete. Once you have that, you'd grace will follow that command."

He tries, he does, focusing on a coaster, trying to lift it.

But he's unsettled, not entirely focused and-

And it catches fire instead. He flinches and curls in on himself. "Sorrysorrysorry."

Castiel reaches out and extinguishes the fire, not allowing the flames to spread for even a few seconds. "It's fine, Nova. It's a common mistake, and no harm was done. You just need to focus more on the exact task you want your grace to complete. Otherwise, it will get out of control."

He's shaking, definitely doesn't believe his words.

"I- I'm sorry. I thought I could," he ducks lower (making himself a smaller target). "I- I can't- my focuse- I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be- learning to control-"

"And you are learning. You're doing very well, and control is something that will come with time." Castiel looks on as if recalling something from far in his past. "In Heaven, when there were still fledglings running about, it took them years to learn how to control their grace. I don't expect it will take you nearly as long, considering you've already had time to grow accustomed to your power."

He licks his lips, nods (with a hint of the same disbelief that's coloured many of their interactions). "I- as you say, sir," he agrees. He doesn't make a move to try again though.

"Would you like to be done for the night?"

He's still for a moment, still looking for a trap. "Please?" he requests after a long minute. "I- If you don't mind?"

"Of course not. You are obviously exhausted. It was wrong of me to push you in such a vulnerable state. We can continue this tomorrow." Castiel looks concerned as he stands up and watches Nova leave.

"I- yes sir, thank you sir."

He stumbles a little as he leaves, but doesn't actually fall over. He can be heard making his way back to his room, where he curls up in the space he made at the head of the bed (it feels safe).

Castiel stands in the living room, monitoring Nova's soul long enough to ensure that he won't try to hurt himself again. 

He doesn't. But that doesn't mean he won't in the future, just that being told not to is still fresh in his mind.

The next few days pass uneventfully, the only change being the subtle improvements in Nova's control over his grace and abilities.

Nova seems to settle somewhat as he realises he is making progress, even if by and large he is still somewhat unsettled by the strange change to his living arrangements, and perplexed by his new guardian. If there are any more incidents of him harming himself, they're cleverly hidden as accidents.

Castiel stayed close, never leaving for more than a few hours at a time to buy food or other resources for Nova. About a week later, Castiel receives a summons to heaven to give a report on the Nephilim's progress.

He isn't doing badly. His control is improving, and while he's still timid and unsure, he seems a little less convinced that Castiel is going to hurt him for making a mistake.