Jump the Track: chapter 4
Title - Jump the Track
Chapter - 4/?
Author - lafleurdumal85
Rating - NC-17
Summary - High school AU. It's Dean's senior year at Lawrence High, and he's already given up on himself. It takes the arrival of the strange, intense, awkward Castiel Delacroix at the school to prove to Dean that maybe his life is worth saving after all.
Chapter warnings - language,
Spoilers - References to characters from seasons 1-6. Apart from that, it's completely AU.
Dean did not go back to school for another week. He’d been allowed to go home the day after Castiel’s visit, but he was still shaky and exhausted, and Mary insisted that he stay home until he was stronger. Of course, not being able to leave the house meant that he had to spend evenings in with his parents and sit through his dad’s many lectures on underage drinking and taking responsibility for your actions. Dean knew he deserved it, and he knew that getting angry was John’s way of showing concern - hell, he took after him in that respect. All the same, he took it for a sign that his dad was finally seeing him for what he was: a screw-up.
In spite of this, he was in no rush to get back to school. He remembered the promise he’d made to his mother at the hospital and he wanted to honor it, only… it was going to be difficult. And not just because the thought of going into school day after day and actually doing the work made Dean want to curl up in horror. He’d already been behind in all his subjects before the accident, and he was in a much worse position now. He wanted to do what Mary had asked of him and get his diploma, but he didn’t see how it was possible now. He’d missed too much, and he knew he wasn’t smart enough to catch up. Even thinking about the task ahead filled him with panic. Dean had a practical brain, a brain designed for action and on-the-spot thinking. He was no academic.
He wished that it could be like in the movies. In films, people had wake-up calls and decided to turn their lives around and it would just happen in the space of a two minute montage. Dean’s life was not a movie, and he couldn’t see any happy ending. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of turning things around and, truth be told, there was still part of him that didn’t really see the point. Still, a promise was a promise, and a promise to his mother was worth more than most. He had to at least try.
One consolation, though it was weird that he was even thinking about it, was that once he’d returned to Lawrence High he’d get to see Castiel again. He’d realized upon leaving the hospital that he didn’t have the other boy’s cell number and had no way of getting in touch with him; he’d have to wait until he saw him at school. Castiel was quite possibly the strangest person Dean had ever met. Dean kept re-playing their brief conversation at the hospital in his head, and he was becoming more and more convinced that they had next to nothing in common, so he really didn’t know why he felt so drawn to the guy. He couldn’t imagine hanging out with Castiel and watching a movie or any of the stuff he liked to do with his other friends. Still, the weirdest think about Castiel’s weird hospital visit was that being with him hadn’t felt weird at all.
Dean knew that there was no reason for him to keep thinking about the other guy. He told himself that they’d probably talk a few times before realizing that the bond they shared through Castiel having saved Dean’s life was not strong enough to breach the gulf that clearly separated their two lives. Castiel was book-smart and withdrawn, and clearly came from a strong religious background. Dean was a trainee mechanic who liked parties and horror movies and hadn’t actually read a book all the way through in years. They were too different. He told himself that, and yet…
And yet.
…
The night before Dean returned to school, Bobby came over for dinner. This happened on a regular basis; Bobby was pretty much considered an honorary Winchester. What was different this time was that Bobby was wearing a jacket. And no hat. It was really weird.
“Uncle Bobby, your head looks kinda small,” Sam said.
Dean kicked him under the table.
“What? It does!”
“I just thought I’d make a bit of an effort for once,” Bobby said shiftily, not looking at any of them.
John laughed. “Since when do you dress up to come to ours? Come on, man, what’s the occasion?”
“It’s nothing,” Bobby growled.
“Oh come on, you-”
“It’s nothing!”
“Oh, leave him alone, John!” Mary said. “Bobby, don’t listen to him, you can wear whatever you want.”
Silence descended, but it was a loaded silence. The Winchester men kept stealing furtive glances at Bobby, who was staring resolutely at his pot roast.
“Oh, damn it to hell!” Bobby threw down his knife and fork. “Fine! If you must know, I’m meeting someone later, and I won’t have time after this to go home and change.”
The Winchesters stared at him in shock.
“Someone as in… a date?” Dean asked.
“Maybe. I dunno. It’s not a big deal.”
Bobby was looking more belligerent than usual, which the family took as a sign that they should back off. Still, this was big news. Bobby didn’t date. He hadn’t gotten involved with anyone since Karen’s death, and they’d all pretty much assumed that he wasn’t ever going to. Even Mary had stopped trying to set him up, and now here he was getting all smart to go on a possible date. Silence descended on the kitchen once more, broken only by the clatter of cutlery against plates. Dean sneaked a look at his father, who was trying his best not to grin. Bobby was still scowling and refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Unspoken questions hung heavy in the air, and Dean knew he wasn’t the only one who was itching to know who this mystery date was. Bobby looked like he wished he’d never opened his mouth.
As usual, it was Mary who came to the rescue. “So, Dean, are you all ready for going back to school tomorrow? Got all your assignments done?”
“Uh… yeah.” Dean figured that it wasn’t technically a lie. If you didn’t know if you had any assignments then you couldn’t possibly do them, in which case you could comfortably argue that you had done them because… okay, Dean knew it was a stretch. Still, if he’d told his mom the truth she wouldn’t be smiling at him like that. Like she was proud of him.
…
“Hey, Winchester, you’re back! I heard you’d died.”
“Yo, Dean! Is it true you overdosed in the park on Halloween?”
“Oh my god, Dean, what happened to you? Did you really try to kill yourself in the bathtub? Because that’s what everyone’s saying.”
Dean had been back in school for approximately five minutes, and he could already feel a tension headache building. It seemed that everyone in the school realized that something bad had happened to him at Halloween, but very few actually knew what it was. It hadn’t helped that his friends had all refused to answer any questions about what had gone down, although Dean knew they’d only been trying to protect him.
Jo had now taken it upon herself to act as his own personal bodyguard, glaring and shoving at people so that Dean could get to his locker. “God! When did this school become such a breeding ground for morons?” she ranted, glaring at a group of passing tenth graders who were all staring shamelessly at Dean.
“It’s fine,” Dean muttered. “It’ll blow over, it always does. No one talks about the time I got caught with Jenny Colbert in the girls’ locker room anymore.”
Jo gave him a look. “Yeah, and I know how much that pains you. Come on, let’s just get to home room.”
Dean tagged along wearily behind her. He’d made the mistake of telling Jo about his promise to Mary, and she seemed to be making it her personal mission to keep him on the straight and narrow. It was a little wearing but Dean still had a lot of making up to do where his friends were concerned so he didn’t complain.
Home room was noisy, and did nothing to ease Dean’s headache. To make matters worse, he got a note telling him that he had an appointment with Mr. Shurley, the guidance councillor, that afternoon.
“Shit,” he whispered to Jo. “You know the last thing I wanna do is go talk to someone I don’t know about what happened. Why can’t they just leave me alone?”
Jo gave his arm a little squeeze. “It’s just procedure. Jump through a couple of hoops and let them know you’re back on track, and they’ll ease off. This won’t last long.”
Dean grimaced, not sure how to tell Jo that he didn’t think that he was back on track.
Another blow to Dean’s peace of mind was that Castiel was in his home room, but the guy hadn’t even tried to come over. Dean had felt a burst of nervous apprehension upon seeing him and secretly hoped they’d be able to talk, but aside from a couple of glances Castiel had barely acknowledged his presence. Dean didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it meant that he left for his first class of the day feeling even crabbier than before.
Unfortunately for Dean, his first class was Math. Henriksen was just as obnoxious as Dean remembered, and did not seem to make any allowances for the fact that Dean had been absent for over two weeks. They were doing calculus now, and as Dean had been having trouble keeping up with trigonometry he was pretty much screwed. When Dean realized that not only could he not follow the equations Henriksen was talking about, he didn’t know the meaning of some of the words he used, he gave up.
After the bell rang, Dean approached Henriksen’s desk with no small amount of reluctance. He cleared his throat. Henriksen, the bastard, did not look up from the papers he was grading.
“Um… Mr. Henriksen?”
“Mr. Winchester.”
“Um…”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’ve… been absent for a bit.”
Henriksen finally did Dean the honor of looking at him. “I’d noticed.”
“So I… I’m a little behind.”
“You were behind before your little adventure. Now I’d say you’re failing.”
Dean breathed in deeply through his nose. “Well, I… I thought…”
“What exactly are you asking me to do for you, Winchester?” Henriksen asked.
Dean gritted his teeth; he hated this. “You know what? Nothing. Forget it. I… I’m obviously wasting my time.” He turned round and slammed out of the classroom.
English was even worse. Dean tried to concentrate on what Miss Bishop was saying about Hamlet, he really did, but he didn’t have the first clue what was going on. It was made so much worse by the fact that Castiel was there at the front of class answering all the questions and not so much as looking Dean’s way. Maybe Dean had imagined their meeting at the hospital. He’d still been on those painkillers, and the whole experience had had that surreal, hallucinatory quality to it. He could quite possibly have dreamt the whole thing, and why that would give him a feeling like there was a pit in his stomach he did not know.
He was asked to stay behind at the end of class. Miss Bishop had always been one of the nicer teachers, and Dean had actually felt a little guilty for never paying any attention to her lessons.
She smiled at him. “Dean, I know things have been tough lately, but we need to talk about your grades. Look, I… I know this is the last thing you want to hear on your first day back after the accident, but-”
“I’m failing, right?” Dean said resignedly.
“Dean, you haven’t completed any assignments this year. You flunked the test I set back in October. In fact, I’m fairly sure you haven’t even done any of the reading.”
Dean didn’t reply.
“Dean, you’re not a stupid kid. You could do well, and I really don’t want to have to fail you, but at this rate I-”
“It’s fine,” Dean barked. “I get it.”
“No, but I don’t want you to-”
“It’s fine! I’m failing. It’s… I haven’t done the work and I’m failing.”
“Dean, I don’t want you to give up. You could still…”
Dean had already backed out of the classroom and walked away. He had that stupid appointment with the guidance councillor in half-an-hour, and he wanted to at least get some lunch first. He didn’t think he could face Mr. Shurley on an empty stomach. So far, this day was putting Dean’s vow to never drink anything again until he was at least twenty-one sorely to the test.
…
“So… Dean. Dean… ah… Winchester.”
“Yeah.”
Dean slouched in his seat, staring at the pamphlets on eating disorders and drug use at the front of Mr. Shurley’s desk. The room smelled like disinfectant, and Dean really didn’t want to think about why.
“You know why you’re here?”
“I guess.” His nerves felt paper thin.
Mr. Shurley looked kind of nervous and tired which really boded well for a guy who was employed to help other people with their problems. “How are you feeling now you’re back at school?”
“Bored. Frustrated. Really fucking irritated with everyone and everything. Does that answer your question?”
“Uh… yes. Yes it does. Thank you for being so… forthcoming.”
“Great. Can I go now?”
“Well, I think we should discuss your plans for the future. Things have been tough for a while now by the looks of things and-”
“Do you care?”
Mr Shurley looked scared. “Do I… do I what?”
“Do you care? I mean, do you actually care about my problems? Is this what you love to do, fixing the lives of teenagers?”
“Well, I… I mean this isn’t… that’s hardly the point, Dean.”
“No, well it’s just that if you don’t, and I really don’t think you do, Mr. Shurley, I’d really like to just get back to trying to fix up my crappy life by myself. I’m not really the caring and sharing type, see, and I’ll be honest with you, I’m not gonna get anything out of these little sessions. So I’ll make you a deal: I won’t take up any of your time, and you won’t bother me with stupid questions about my feelings. No one tells the principle and everyone goes home happy.”
The councillor swallowed. “That’s really… that’s not…”
“Listen, ah, Chuck,” Dean read the name from the badge pinned to Mr Shurley’s jacket. “I don’t really care. Yeah, I know I messed up. Yeah, I know I’m flunking everything. But, see, I don’t think that anything that you can do or say is gonna help me. So I’m just gonna leave now.”
“Uh, but, Dean…”
“No, I was just told I had to come to the appointment. It didn’t say anything about actually getting anything out of it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a life to screw up.”
As Dean shut the door to the office, he heard Mr. Shurley feebly call “See you next week!”
…
Dean decided not to go to fifth period. It was only History, and as he was failing everything anyway he couldn’t see that it mattered. He wandered over to the sports field and sat down on the bleachers. It was too cold to be outside, but Dean didn’t feel like being around anyone. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and sunk down into his jacket as much as possible. He closed his eyes against the milky November sunlight, turning his vision red. He felt safer, shut off from the world, like he could hide behind his closed eyelids and not deal with any of this ever again.
Dean had been sat like that for about five minutes when he felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck like he was being watched. He opened his eyes slowly and looked around; the sports field was still empty. There were some birds a few feet away from him, and they’d found what looked like some french fries that someone had dropped. One of the birds tried to fly off with one but another made a grab at it and they fought, wings beating aggressively, their grating cries echoing across the field. Dean watched them idly. It was weird being alone like this. He wondered what it would feel like if he went back into the school and discovered that everyone else had disappeared and he was the only person left in the world.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Fuck!” Dean got up and spun around so quickly that he lost balance, and Castiel had to reach out and grab his jacket to stop him falling over backwards. The guy really did have crazy good reflexes. Dean steadied himself, panting. “You… what the hell? What’re you… how long have you been sitting there?”
“A couple of minutes,” Castiel replied calmly. He cocked his head to one side. “Are you all right, Dean?”
“Dude, you scared the crap out of me! You don’t just sneak up on people then sit down behind them without saying anything!”
“You don’t?”
“No! It’s fucking creepy!”
Castiel frowned and lowered his eyes. “I apologize. I’m not very good at…” he waved his hand in an empty gesture. “Human interaction. I wanted to talk to you, but you looked peaceful and I didn’t like to disturb you.”
“You saw me earlier in home room.”
Castiel grimaced. “You were with your friend. I wasn’t sure if you’d…” He sighed. “In my short time at this school I have learned that I am not the kind of person that… many people wish to be seen with. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
Dean sat down; he felt a little bad for the guy now. “Well… hey, you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t give a fuck what people think, and Jo’s cool. She’s my best friend. Next time just come over, okay? And… and don’t sneak up on me when I’m not expecting it. Say hi or… or at least make some noise when you walk. I mean what are you, a ninja?”
Castiel looked up, almost alarmed. “No, of course not!”
“I was kidding. But yeah, just be…” Dean was going to say ‘just be normal’, but he realized that that advice might be a little redundant in Castiel’s case. Besides, he kind of liked that the guy wasn’t like anyone else. “Just chill. You don’t have to worry. About me.”
Castiel relaxed a little, and Dean thought that he almost smiled. At least, a corner of his mouth twitched. “All right.”
Dean turned back to the playing field; the birds had flown away. There was a white, crisp November wind blowing, and Dean could see gossamer clouds skidding across the sky high above like feathers. It didn’t feel weird, not talking. Dean wasn’t usually comfortable around most other people unless he was playing his role, joking around, flirting, showing off. There were very few people outside of his immediate family, very few, that he could just be with, and they tended to be people he’d known for years. However, Castiel’s presence didn’t bother him in the least. It was kind of ridiculous. He was sat there with a weird, nerdy, super-religious ninja guy perching right behind him, so close that if Dean leaned back even an inch he’d be pressed up against Castiel’s shin. It should make Dean feel profoundly uncomfortable, and yet it was the easiest thing in the world. He wasn’t sure how much of that could be explained away by the fact that Castiel had saved his life because really he thought that something like that would make this situation even more awkward. All things considered, Dean felt that this was one of those things he should just not think about.
“So I’m flunking half my classes,” he said eventually, breaking the silence.
“What do you intend to do about it?” Castiel replied evenly.
“Pfft. Not much I can do. They’ve all written me off as a drop-out. I guess I’ll just have to let my mom know that I’m…” He sighed. “It’s not like I care anyway. This place isn’t gonna get me anywhere.”
“I think you do care.”
Dean turned around, irritated. “Oh, is that what you think, Sigmund Freud? Look, you and me are… we’re cool, okay, but don’t try to psychoanalyse me or any of that shit. You don’t… I’m not like you, all right? I don’t care about any of this crap. I’m just gonna end up working at my dad’s garage whatever I do, so… so what’s the point?”
“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have told me.”
Dean gritted his teeth. He couldn’t argue with that, although he’d really like to try. “Fine. Maybe I care a little bit, but what’s the point? Everything else I said is true. There’s no point in any of it, so I might as well not care, okay? I’m…” Dean turned around to look at the other guy. Castiel was staring at him intently, his expression unfathomable, and Dean momentarily forgot what he’d been trying to say. “I’m…” He cleared his throat and decided that it would be better to look at Castiel’s knees instead. “I hate to break this to you, Castiel, but the guy whose life you saved isn’t smart or successful or even especially nice. I let people down, okay? And I’m not gonna do anything special with this life you gave back to me. I’ve accepted that, and-”
Dean was interrupted by Castiel reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. He really did have a very strong grip, and his hand was right where the bruises had been left that night. They’d faded now, but the ghost of them remained so that Castiel’s touch made Dean’s skin sing. His eyes immediately snapped back to Castiel’s face, and he was shocked by the intensity in the other boy’s gaze.
“Don’t ever say that,” Castiel growled at him. “There was a reason that I was there that night, and there was a reason I saved you. You were meant to be saved, Dean. It happened for a reason, and I’m not going to let you give up on yourself.”
“Woah, okay! Okay! I’m… sorry.” Dean’s heart was beating a little faster than he would have liked. “Cas, you’re kinda hurting my arm there.”
Castiel relaxed his grip, but he still had that fierce look in his eyes. He really was a little intimidating. “I’m sorry. I have problems with… I just don’t want you to… I’m sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No! Well… yeah, a little. But I… I get….” Dean wasn’t sure what he got. “Why do you even think that about me? I mean, you don’t even know me.”
“I know enough. You’re not a bad person, Dean.”
Dean laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, wait till you know me a bit better.”
“Dean, what are you going to do about your grades?”
“What can I do? I’m failing. I mean, I’d just promised my mom that I’d turn things around, but I guess it’s too late. Another let-down to add to the list.”
“You’re being incredibly self-indulgent.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, it just seems like you’ve got this idea into your head that you’re going to fail and it’s almost as if you want to now because you want to prove yourself right. Also, I think you’re afraid because you suspect that if you actually do try to do better and you don’t succeed, it will be far worse than if you’d never tried at all.”
Dean gaped at him.
“I think you should talk to your teachers. I’m sure there’s something you can do. If… if you like, I’ll help you. I mean, I can help you study. I’m good at schoolwork, and… and it will give me a reason to… Well, I’d be happy to do it. If you’d like.”
Dean finally found his voice. “You are the most… Why the hell do you even care?”
Castiel frowned and looked away. “I don’t know. So far I find you incredibly frustrating, but… but I want to…” He sighed. “I can’t explain it. I brought you back from the point of death. I feel responsible. In a way, it makes me your third parent.”
“Like hell it does!”
“It does, if you think about it.”
“Well, I’m not gonna! You are not my parent.”
“Dean.”
“You’re not!”
“I just don’t like to leave a job unfinished. I believe we met for a reason, and I saved your life for a reason. Plus, we decided at the hospital that we were going to try to be friends. I have no prior experience of friendship, but I believe it entails elements of support and… and… being there for one another in times of crisis. If I am to be your friend I intend to do it properly. I can help you pass this year. I’ve been getting A’s in all my subjects. I would like to help you. Will you at least think about it?”
Dean thought. He thought about his mother and the promise he’d made. He thought about how Castiel was right, and he really was afraid of trying and failing, though like hell he was going to admit it. He thought about actually achieving something for once. He thought about how no one had bothered enough to notice that Dean was giving up on himself, and certainly no one had been willing to sacrifice their time to help him, until Castiel came along. He thought about how irritated he was with Castiel right now, and how the guy was self-righteous and presumptuous and obviously thought he knew best despite being ignorant of the circumstances. He thought about how Castiel seemed to think that friendship was something you got graded on and he was determined to get an A. Dean thought it was weird that despite being annoyed and freaked out, he still liked the guy.
“Okay,” he mumbled.
“Really?”
“Look, I don’t want you putting yourself out for me or anything. I don’t need anyone’s pity. I don’t think you-”
“You can stop talking now. Let’s go and see your teachers about getting some extra credit.”
Castiel set off across the playing field back to the school, and Dean was left to trail behind, feeling like he’d very much like to throw something at the back of Castiel’s head.
…
“So then he makes me stay behind after school to see all my teachers. Even friggin’ Henriksen who was a smug son-of-a-bitch about the whole thing. Do you realize how much work I have to do now, Sammy? Do you? Because I think it’s safe to say that I can kiss goodbye to my social life for the next decade. God, this was a horrible idea. A horrible, horrible idea. And he’s coming over tomorrow night to help me study for my science make-up test. It’s like… it’s like I bought a puppy or something. Yeah, it’s like I bought a puppy, and it seemed like a good idea at the time but now it’s taken over my life and it’s eaten my favorite shoes and I can’t go out anymore because it’ll pee in my bed. Yeah! Castiel is like a disruptive puppy!”
Sam looked up from his Biology textbook, confused. “You think Castiel’s gonna pee in your bed?”
“What? No! It’s a metaphor, Sam!”
“Right,” Sam sighed. “Poor you, having someone who’s offered to give up their time to help you despite the fact that you’re a complete jerk. Must be tough, Dean.”
“Shut up,” Dean muttered.
“You know, you don’t have to hang out in my bedroom. Feel free to do something else.”
“Oh come on, Sam! I’m not like you, okay? I’m not good at the whole study thing.”
Sam sighed again. “You’ll cope.”
“Dude, what the hell is your problem? Why are you being so pissy?”
Sam pulled a face and put his book aside. “I’m sorry. It’s just… there’s this girl in my English class.”
“Ooooh.” Dean grinned. “A girl! Well, that is something I can help you with. Who is she? Is it that Ava chick?”
“No! Ava’s just my friend. It’s… she’s called Ruby and she’s really pretty and smart, but she’s part of the popular crowd and she doesn’t even know I exist.”
Dean laughed. It would seem he wasn’t the only Winchester throwing himself a pity party. “Come on, Sam, have you even tried to talk to her?”
“No. There’s no point; we belong to different worlds.”
“That never stopped me. All you need is confidence. You know, make her feel special, tell a couple of jokes, don’t act desperate. Come on, if there’s one thing us Winchester men are good at it’s getting girls to like us.”
Sam looked up at him uncertainly. “You… you really think she’d like me?”
“Sure! If all else fails, say you’re related to me. She’ll see that you have the potential to turn into this in four years, and she’ll be all over you.”
Sam snorted. “Yeah, right. The fewer people at school who know we’re related the better. In fact, I’m thinking of starting a rumor that you were adopted from a family of circus people who left you on our doorstep.”
Dean threw a sneaker at his brother.
“Dean!”
…
Castiel cornered Dean the next morning in home room. Or rather he loomed over Dean, who was talking to Jo about their plans for the weekend. He didn’t even say anything, he just stared until Dean broke off his conversation and looked up nervously.
“Cas?”
“We need to talk. Outside. Come please.” He turned abruptly and walked out of the room.
Jo looked at Dean incredulously. “Do you think he was raised by woodland creatures?”
“I’ll get back to you on that one,” Dean replied as he got up to follow Castiel.
The other boy was waiting for him anxiously in the corridor.
“What’s up, Cas?”
“I have to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I got that. What about?”
“It’s about tonight. I… I can still come over, but I… Um.”
“What?”
“Well, we may have to stop off at my house first. I need to pick up my notes, and also… well, my family are… it’s hard to explain.”
“Well, it’s no problem to swing by your place. It’s only a short detour, right?”
“Yes but, Dean, it’s more about my family.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You see, they’re very… they have these ideas about how things should be done. They’re very committed to the church, as am I, but… well.”
“Cas, while we’re still young?”
“The thing is, the only reason I was allowed to come to public school was because I persuaded them that I would use the opportunity to introduce more young people to our mission. I’ve been spreading the word amongst the students in the FCS, and that’s fine, but… well, I’m not exactly allowed to… Let’s just say that they would not look kindly upon my socialising with people outside of the context of the church.”
“So… what are you saying?”
“Just that… if you wouldn’t mind meeting them briefly. I am not asking you to lie, but I may have implied that I was… trying to convert you.
“You what?”
Castiel held up a hand defensively. “I know! I… Look, that’s not my agenda. I have no intention of…” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I had to say it. I argued that it was more important for me to work with individuals who were not already open to the teachings of the church, and…”
“Aw, Cas, I don’t know about this.”
“Dean, I’m sorry. I know it’s reprehensible of me, but there was no other way I would be allowed to help you. All you will need to do is… is come over for five minutes and not… contradict any of their assumptions. I hate to ask this of you, and if it were my decision I would not involve you with my family, but…” He pressed his lips together, his eyes fixed on Dean’s shoes.
Dean felt acutely uncomfortable about all of this. Still, he figured it was the least he could do when the guy was going out of his way to help Dean study when he really didn’t have to. “Sure, Cas,” he said. “Don’t worry, it’s not a problem. I’ll ask Jo if she can give Sam a ride home.”
Castiel exhaled. “Thank you, Dean. I promise it won’t take up much time.”
“Don’t sweat it. It’ll be fine.”
He clapped a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and the two of them walked back into the classroom together. Dean looked sideways at the other boy and noticed that he was almost smiling again.
…
“This really won’t take long.” Castiel’s fingers were beating a nervous tattoo on his knee.
“Relax, dude. Now, is it a left here?”
“Um, yes. Left, and then the driveway is at the end of the road.”
Castiel lived in the nice part of town. Actually, no. Dean lived in the nice part of town. Castiel lived in the rich part of town. This was where investment bankers and politicians had houses. Dean wasn’t exactly surprised; he knew that Castiel’s father had a huge following and that it must bring in lots of money. All the same, Cas really didn’t look like someone who was rich. Dean had only seen him wear about three different outfits, and he always seemed slightly… destitute.
Dean turned down a long, tree-lined driveway.
“We really don’t have to stay long. Just let me get my notes and we’ll leave.”
“Seriously, take it easy!”
“I just don’t want you to think… Never mind.”
Dean pulled up outside Castiel’s house. To be more accurate, it was a four-storey Queen Anne style mansion. He killed the engine. “Wow. Dude, you are gonna be seriously unimpressed by my place.”
“Don’t say that, Dean! I would never… you mustn’t think that I would ever set any store by property or-”
“I was kidding!” Seriously, did the guy take everything literally?
Castiel was sitting very still in the passenger seat, looking up at the house with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I talk too much when I’m nervous.” He made no effort to move.
“Um… Cas? Are we doing this?”
“Oh! Um. Yes. Right.” Castiel got out of the car and walked quickly over to the house.
Dean followed, taking in his surroundings. It was a beautiful property, but there was something about it that was… cold. Dean felt like the house itself disapproved of him. He stood beside Castiel on the porch, hands in his pockets, while his friend fumbled with a set of keys. Before he could find the right one, however, the door was opened by a grey middle-aged man who looked at them both coldly.
“I expected you earlier than this,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Castiel replied. “Um, Dean, this is my Uncle Zachariah. Uncle, this is Dean Winchester, who I was telling you about.”
Uncle Zachariah gave Dean a cold smile. “Ah yes, Castiel’s problem case.” He held out a hand which Dean shook reluctantly.
“I never said that,” Castiel protested quietly. “Um, Dean is… Dean is unfamiliar with the church, that’s all.”
Another cold smile from Uncle Zachariah. “Well, I hope that Castiel will bring you to the light. He is a fine orator when he puts his mind to it.”
“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. “Yes, Sir, it’s… all really interesting.”
“Well, you’d better get inside. We’re letting all the cold air in.”
Dean followed Castiel through the door, and quickly discovered that the inside of the house was just as unwelcoming as the outside. It was dark and smelled like dust and mothballs. The walls were painted dark red to complement the walnut wainscoting, but with the lack of light in the place it just made things look even gloomier. There was nothing about the house that suggested a family home; it was the kind of place that made you feel like you had to whisper, or like you’d get in trouble for touching anything.
Dean stole a glance at Castiel, who was looking acutely nervous. Poor guy. Well, Dean would make an effort, if only to avoid getting his new friend into trouble.
“Come on through,” Zachariah called. “We’re in the front room. We’re working on Martin Luther today. I’m afraid Anna is still a little unfocused.”
“I’m sorry,” Castiel muttered to Dean. “This really-”
“Won’t take long, I know. It’s cool.”
Dean didn’t know why Zachariah had complained about letting the cold air in, because the house was freezing enough as it was. He wondered if the place even had any heating, or if the family just didn’t choose to use it.
The front room had a high stucco ceiling and would have been quite beautiful if it had been made to look a little cheerier. It was full of heavy mahogany furniture: a large bookcase, several ornate coffee tables, an empty dresser. There was a set of hard-looking armchairs surrounding the fireplace, and there were two people sitting there: a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, and a redheaded girl who Dean guessed was a year or so younger than him. They were both reading, the silence broken only be the loud ticking of a large grandfather clock in the corner. Dean felt that even the air was heavy in this house.
“We have a guest,” Zachariah announced.
Castiel cleared his throat. “This is Dean Winchester, the boy from school I was telling you about. We’re not staying long. I am helping Dean with his studies. Dean, this is my older brother Michael, and my cousin Anna.”
Michael nodded in greeting, looking at Dean appraisingly. Anna said a quiet “hello.” Dean noticed that she was pretty but had a sulky mouth. She looked bored and miserable, and Dean immediately felt sorry for her.
“Well,” Castiel said. “I… We have to go. I need to collect some things and then. We, um. Have to go.” He tugged at the sleeve of Dean’s jacket.
“I hope we’ll see you again soon, Mr. Winchester,” Michael said. He had a clear, articulate voice, and Dean realized that Castiel wasn’t the only one in his family who liked to stare. Michael looked nothing like Castiel, and Dean would never have guessed they were brothers. Michael was fairer, more muscular. He looked well put-together in a light grey suit and white dinner shirt. He had the same penetrating gaze as his brother though, but while Dean had always been kind of amused when Castiel stared, Michael made him feel uneasy.
“Uh, yeah,” Dean replied. “Sure thing.”
“You will be back no later than nine, Castiel,” Uncle Zachariah called after them. “I will not be pleased if you miss silent prayer.”
“Yes, Sir,” Castiel replied.
Dean followed Castiel in silence as they walked along a corridor, up a flight of stairs, up another flight of stairs, along another corridor and up a third, much narrower, staircase.
“Here,” Castiel said tightly as they reached the top. “This is my room. I won’t be long and then we can leave.” Dean could practically feel the tension radiating off him, but he wasn’t about to say anything. He followed Cas into the room.
“How come they put you up here?” Dean asked. “I’d have figured a place like this would have enough rooms that you didn’t need to be in the attic.”
“Oh… I chose this room. I like to be up high. Away from everything.”
“Yeah, I… I get that.”
Castiel’s room was a good size, but very bare. In fact, it was completely empty apart from a narrow bed, a desk and a small wardrobe. The only mark of individuality was the row of well-cared-for books lined up on the windowsill. The room smelled like pine and cotton, and it seemed… lighter than the rest of the house. Like the mood had lifted.
“This won’t take long,” Castiel said, opening a draw of the desk and rifling through some papers.
Dean laughed softly. “Cas, you sound like a stuck record.” He wandered over to the window and looked out. He could see why Castiel liked it up here: there was a great view across the trees, and Dean could see the city in the distance. He thought that the lights must look pretty at night. The window looked over the back garden of the property which was a considerable size, although a large part of it was taken up by a whitewashed outhouse. “Hey, Cas?” he called. “What’s that building out back?”
“Hm? Oh, that’s our family chapel. We use it for evening prayer. Sometimes others come along.”
“Oh, okay.” Dean was friends with a guy who had a church in his back garden. His life was weird.
Dean’s read the titles of the books on the windowsill. They all looked really dull. There was a bookmark lying beside them with what looked like a poem written on it, and Dean picked it up to read.
For he shall give his angels charge over thee,
To keep thee in all thy ways.
They shall bear thee up in their hands,
Lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
- Psalm 91:11-12
Well, that figured.
“My father gave that to me when I was a boy,” Castiel said, coming to stand beside him. “He always… he liked what the Bible says about angels.”
“Yeah, it’s… nice. I mean, I don’t know if I exactly believe in any of that stuff you know, but… yeah. Reminds me of something my mom used to say when I was a kid.” He put the bookmark down carefully on the desk. “So, does your dad come here a lot?”
He knew immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. Castiel’s face went blank, and he looked away from Dean. “My father has never been here. I haven’t seen him in five years. He… he’s very busy. His schedule means that he has to travel a lot, and… and he’s devoted his life to spreading God’s word, so… so it’s just us. My uncle decided to move here last year. My father keeps in touch by phone, but he mostly talks to Uncle Zachariah. He… advises us on how we should be spreading the word.”
“Oh. Right. So… So I guess your family is pretty close.”
“Not really. We are united by our faith, but we don’t… we don’t talk. I don’t know how… I… I don’t think we are like most families. We don’t talk about… about anything outside of the church. I spend most of my free time alone, reading or walking. It’s… it’s all right. I’ve never craved close companionship with others.”
Dean stared. It struck him that this was the most alone person he had ever met.
Castiel looked up at him. “We should go.”
…
Castiel was very quiet in the car. Dean didn’t know what to say. He could see now why Castiel had been so anxious about him coming over. Dean couldn’t imagine having a family like that, and he was suddenly very grateful for his own. His parents had never been super religious. Sure, they went to church at Christmas and Easter, but it wasn’t something they were ruled by. Dean didn’t get it. Surely if you believe in God that much, the best thing you can do is go out and enjoy the life that you’d been given, not shut yourself away in the dark, away from love and companionship, away from fun. He couldn’t reconcile himself to the idea.
He felt bad for Cas, having to go back to that night after night. Little wonder the guy had been so keen to come over to Dean’s and help him study. And what the hell was going on with Castiel’s father? Was he just another of those cold, emotionless men who was so committed to God that he forgot to love the people who were actually in his life? Was he another celebrity preacher who only cared about making money and didn’t really live by the lessons he was teaching? Either way, it sucked to be Castiel.
“Hey, Cas?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks for this, man. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be the best student, but I’m gonna try. I… no one’s looked out for me like this before, and… and it means a lot.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dean had never been happier to see his own house with the basketball hoop above the garage and the old tree in the front yard, and the peeling paint on the front door that his dad kept promising to touch up but somehow never got round to. He thought he might ask his mom to make them some of her amazing hot chocolate while they studied. He thought Castiel might appreciate something warming before he went back to that chill, loveless house of his. No wonder the guy wore so many layers.
“Come on in,” he called, pushing the car door shut. “I thought we’d set up in the dining room. I’m gonna warn you, Cas, I haven’t studied in a long time and I’m not as smart as you are, okay?”
“I know.”
Dean scowled. “There’s no need to sound quite so smug about it.”
They went inside, and Dean threw his schoolbag down. “Mom?” he called. “You home?”
“In the kitchen!”
Dean grinned at his friend, who was still standing nervously by the door. “Come on through.”
Mary was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, and Dean was not surprised to see an empty coffee pot beside her. “How was school, honey?” she asked, not looking up.
“Yeah, it was fine. Uh, Mom, this is Castiel. He’s gonna help me cram for that Chem test I gotta do next week. Is it okay if we use the dining room?”
Mary’s attention was caught immediately. She got to her feet, staring at Castiel. “So you’re… you’re Castiel? The boy who… You were the one who found Dean that night.”
Castiel rocked a little on the balls of his feet. “Um, yes, Mrs Winchester. I-”
He was interrupted by Mary rushing over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. Castiel’s eyes grew very wide, and he looked at Dean over Mary’s shoulder with something very like panic, his arms held rigidly at his sides.
“Thank you,” Mary whispered, holding onto Castiel tightly. “Thank you so much for my son.”
“Um, that’s all right,” Castiel replied stiffly. He reached up and tentatively patted Mary a couple of times on the back.
Dean almost laughed at the look of complete bewilderment on Castiel’s face. Anyone would think he’d never been hugged before. And then it occurred to him: he probably hadn’t. Cas’s family did not seem like the affectionate sort.
“Mom, leave him alone. He came over for a study date, not to get assaulted.”
Mary pulled back, her eyes over-bright. She gave Castiel a warm smile. “Thank you,” she said again.
Castiel looked at her gently. “It was my pleasure.”
“Mom,” Dean insisted. “Is it okay for us to use the dining room?”
“What? Oh, of course you can! Yes, go wherever you want. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Can we have hot chocolate? Oh, and some sandwiches. I’m starving. And… are there any of those muffins left over? The ones with the cinnamon?”
Mary grinned. “I’ll see what I can do. Castiel, would you like some hot chocolate?”
Castiel looked at her shyly. “I’ve never had it before, but… yes please.”
“All right then, I’ll go heat up some milk. You boys go get settled.”
Dean laughed softly as they left the kitchen. “You might wanna watch out - I think my mom wants to adopt you.”
Castiel didn’t say anything, but there was a soft look in his eyes. Dean picked up his bag from where he’d dropped it, and got out his long neglected Chemistry textbook. “Okay, how do you wanna do this?” He led Castiel through to the dining room, which the Winchesters only ever used for its designated purpose on special occasions. He noticed that his dad had put some sheets of newspaper on the table and had laid out some oily engine parts on them. Why the guy couldn’t just do that stuff in the garage, the rest of the family would never understand. Dean cleared them away, embarrassed. Castiel was used to things being a little more refined than this. The other boy didn’t seem to have noticed, though. He was staring at the family bookcase.
“You have so many titles,” he said quietly. “We only have religious books in our house. I don’t really mind; I find theology interesting, but it’s… nice to read something else occasionally.” He looked at Dean guiltily. “My family don’t know this, but I borrow other books from the library, and I stay up at night reading them.”
“Wow,” Dean replied flatly. “You rebel, Cas.”
Castiel did not seem to detect the irony.
Dean threw his book down on the table. “Okay, let’s do this,” he sighed. “Pull up a chair. Uh… where do you think we should, you know, start?”
Castiel frowned in contemplation. “Well, you’ll be familiar with the periodic table, so maybe we could go over some chemical compounds, and-”
“Uh, Cas? When you say familiar, you mean that I know what the periodic table is, right? I mean, I’d recognize one if I saw it.”
“No, I mean that you know all the basic elements.”
“Uh…”
“You don’t?”
“I know that Fe is iron!” Dean replied defensively.
Castiel looked slightly aghast, and Dean scowled. Yeah, he knew he was behind, but now he was starting to feel stupid. “Okay, okay, I know I’m dumb. I did warn you.”
Castiel reached out and grabbed Dean’s wrist, making him wince. The guy had the hands of a rock-climbing jazz pianist. Dean looked up at him, because Cas really wasn’t giving him much of a choice.
“You are not stupid, Dean.” Really, it didn’t make sense that anyone’s eyes could be that blue. “You’re not. You’re behind, that’s all. You are more than capable of the task ahead, and I am going to make sure that you get through this.”
Dean’s mouth quirked into half a smile. “You’re really not gonna give up on me, are you?”
“Never. Now, open your book. By the end of this evening you will have the whole periodic table memorised.”
Dean sighed. He hoped his mom came through with the supplies soon, because he had the feeling that he was going to need all the sustenance he could get.
Chapter 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter - 4/?
Author - lafleurdumal85
Rating - NC-17
Summary - High school AU. It's Dean's senior year at Lawrence High, and he's already given up on himself. It takes the arrival of the strange, intense, awkward Castiel Delacroix at the school to prove to Dean that maybe his life is worth saving after all.
Chapter warnings - language,
Spoilers - References to characters from seasons 1-6. Apart from that, it's completely AU.
Dean did not go back to school for another week. He’d been allowed to go home the day after Castiel’s visit, but he was still shaky and exhausted, and Mary insisted that he stay home until he was stronger. Of course, not being able to leave the house meant that he had to spend evenings in with his parents and sit through his dad’s many lectures on underage drinking and taking responsibility for your actions. Dean knew he deserved it, and he knew that getting angry was John’s way of showing concern - hell, he took after him in that respect. All the same, he took it for a sign that his dad was finally seeing him for what he was: a screw-up.
In spite of this, he was in no rush to get back to school. He remembered the promise he’d made to his mother at the hospital and he wanted to honor it, only… it was going to be difficult. And not just because the thought of going into school day after day and actually doing the work made Dean want to curl up in horror. He’d already been behind in all his subjects before the accident, and he was in a much worse position now. He wanted to do what Mary had asked of him and get his diploma, but he didn’t see how it was possible now. He’d missed too much, and he knew he wasn’t smart enough to catch up. Even thinking about the task ahead filled him with panic. Dean had a practical brain, a brain designed for action and on-the-spot thinking. He was no academic.
He wished that it could be like in the movies. In films, people had wake-up calls and decided to turn their lives around and it would just happen in the space of a two minute montage. Dean’s life was not a movie, and he couldn’t see any happy ending. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of turning things around and, truth be told, there was still part of him that didn’t really see the point. Still, a promise was a promise, and a promise to his mother was worth more than most. He had to at least try.
One consolation, though it was weird that he was even thinking about it, was that once he’d returned to Lawrence High he’d get to see Castiel again. He’d realized upon leaving the hospital that he didn’t have the other boy’s cell number and had no way of getting in touch with him; he’d have to wait until he saw him at school. Castiel was quite possibly the strangest person Dean had ever met. Dean kept re-playing their brief conversation at the hospital in his head, and he was becoming more and more convinced that they had next to nothing in common, so he really didn’t know why he felt so drawn to the guy. He couldn’t imagine hanging out with Castiel and watching a movie or any of the stuff he liked to do with his other friends. Still, the weirdest think about Castiel’s weird hospital visit was that being with him hadn’t felt weird at all.
Dean knew that there was no reason for him to keep thinking about the other guy. He told himself that they’d probably talk a few times before realizing that the bond they shared through Castiel having saved Dean’s life was not strong enough to breach the gulf that clearly separated their two lives. Castiel was book-smart and withdrawn, and clearly came from a strong religious background. Dean was a trainee mechanic who liked parties and horror movies and hadn’t actually read a book all the way through in years. They were too different. He told himself that, and yet…
And yet.
…
The night before Dean returned to school, Bobby came over for dinner. This happened on a regular basis; Bobby was pretty much considered an honorary Winchester. What was different this time was that Bobby was wearing a jacket. And no hat. It was really weird.
“Uncle Bobby, your head looks kinda small,” Sam said.
Dean kicked him under the table.
“What? It does!”
“I just thought I’d make a bit of an effort for once,” Bobby said shiftily, not looking at any of them.
John laughed. “Since when do you dress up to come to ours? Come on, man, what’s the occasion?”
“It’s nothing,” Bobby growled.
“Oh come on, you-”
“It’s nothing!”
“Oh, leave him alone, John!” Mary said. “Bobby, don’t listen to him, you can wear whatever you want.”
Silence descended, but it was a loaded silence. The Winchester men kept stealing furtive glances at Bobby, who was staring resolutely at his pot roast.
“Oh, damn it to hell!” Bobby threw down his knife and fork. “Fine! If you must know, I’m meeting someone later, and I won’t have time after this to go home and change.”
The Winchesters stared at him in shock.
“Someone as in… a date?” Dean asked.
“Maybe. I dunno. It’s not a big deal.”
Bobby was looking more belligerent than usual, which the family took as a sign that they should back off. Still, this was big news. Bobby didn’t date. He hadn’t gotten involved with anyone since Karen’s death, and they’d all pretty much assumed that he wasn’t ever going to. Even Mary had stopped trying to set him up, and now here he was getting all smart to go on a possible date. Silence descended on the kitchen once more, broken only by the clatter of cutlery against plates. Dean sneaked a look at his father, who was trying his best not to grin. Bobby was still scowling and refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Unspoken questions hung heavy in the air, and Dean knew he wasn’t the only one who was itching to know who this mystery date was. Bobby looked like he wished he’d never opened his mouth.
As usual, it was Mary who came to the rescue. “So, Dean, are you all ready for going back to school tomorrow? Got all your assignments done?”
“Uh… yeah.” Dean figured that it wasn’t technically a lie. If you didn’t know if you had any assignments then you couldn’t possibly do them, in which case you could comfortably argue that you had done them because… okay, Dean knew it was a stretch. Still, if he’d told his mom the truth she wouldn’t be smiling at him like that. Like she was proud of him.
…
“Hey, Winchester, you’re back! I heard you’d died.”
“Yo, Dean! Is it true you overdosed in the park on Halloween?”
“Oh my god, Dean, what happened to you? Did you really try to kill yourself in the bathtub? Because that’s what everyone’s saying.”
Dean had been back in school for approximately five minutes, and he could already feel a tension headache building. It seemed that everyone in the school realized that something bad had happened to him at Halloween, but very few actually knew what it was. It hadn’t helped that his friends had all refused to answer any questions about what had gone down, although Dean knew they’d only been trying to protect him.
Jo had now taken it upon herself to act as his own personal bodyguard, glaring and shoving at people so that Dean could get to his locker. “God! When did this school become such a breeding ground for morons?” she ranted, glaring at a group of passing tenth graders who were all staring shamelessly at Dean.
“It’s fine,” Dean muttered. “It’ll blow over, it always does. No one talks about the time I got caught with Jenny Colbert in the girls’ locker room anymore.”
Jo gave him a look. “Yeah, and I know how much that pains you. Come on, let’s just get to home room.”
Dean tagged along wearily behind her. He’d made the mistake of telling Jo about his promise to Mary, and she seemed to be making it her personal mission to keep him on the straight and narrow. It was a little wearing but Dean still had a lot of making up to do where his friends were concerned so he didn’t complain.
Home room was noisy, and did nothing to ease Dean’s headache. To make matters worse, he got a note telling him that he had an appointment with Mr. Shurley, the guidance councillor, that afternoon.
“Shit,” he whispered to Jo. “You know the last thing I wanna do is go talk to someone I don’t know about what happened. Why can’t they just leave me alone?”
Jo gave his arm a little squeeze. “It’s just procedure. Jump through a couple of hoops and let them know you’re back on track, and they’ll ease off. This won’t last long.”
Dean grimaced, not sure how to tell Jo that he didn’t think that he was back on track.
Another blow to Dean’s peace of mind was that Castiel was in his home room, but the guy hadn’t even tried to come over. Dean had felt a burst of nervous apprehension upon seeing him and secretly hoped they’d be able to talk, but aside from a couple of glances Castiel had barely acknowledged his presence. Dean didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it meant that he left for his first class of the day feeling even crabbier than before.
Unfortunately for Dean, his first class was Math. Henriksen was just as obnoxious as Dean remembered, and did not seem to make any allowances for the fact that Dean had been absent for over two weeks. They were doing calculus now, and as Dean had been having trouble keeping up with trigonometry he was pretty much screwed. When Dean realized that not only could he not follow the equations Henriksen was talking about, he didn’t know the meaning of some of the words he used, he gave up.
After the bell rang, Dean approached Henriksen’s desk with no small amount of reluctance. He cleared his throat. Henriksen, the bastard, did not look up from the papers he was grading.
“Um… Mr. Henriksen?”
“Mr. Winchester.”
“Um…”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’ve… been absent for a bit.”
Henriksen finally did Dean the honor of looking at him. “I’d noticed.”
“So I… I’m a little behind.”
“You were behind before your little adventure. Now I’d say you’re failing.”
Dean breathed in deeply through his nose. “Well, I… I thought…”
“What exactly are you asking me to do for you, Winchester?” Henriksen asked.
Dean gritted his teeth; he hated this. “You know what? Nothing. Forget it. I… I’m obviously wasting my time.” He turned round and slammed out of the classroom.
English was even worse. Dean tried to concentrate on what Miss Bishop was saying about Hamlet, he really did, but he didn’t have the first clue what was going on. It was made so much worse by the fact that Castiel was there at the front of class answering all the questions and not so much as looking Dean’s way. Maybe Dean had imagined their meeting at the hospital. He’d still been on those painkillers, and the whole experience had had that surreal, hallucinatory quality to it. He could quite possibly have dreamt the whole thing, and why that would give him a feeling like there was a pit in his stomach he did not know.
He was asked to stay behind at the end of class. Miss Bishop had always been one of the nicer teachers, and Dean had actually felt a little guilty for never paying any attention to her lessons.
She smiled at him. “Dean, I know things have been tough lately, but we need to talk about your grades. Look, I… I know this is the last thing you want to hear on your first day back after the accident, but-”
“I’m failing, right?” Dean said resignedly.
“Dean, you haven’t completed any assignments this year. You flunked the test I set back in October. In fact, I’m fairly sure you haven’t even done any of the reading.”
Dean didn’t reply.
“Dean, you’re not a stupid kid. You could do well, and I really don’t want to have to fail you, but at this rate I-”
“It’s fine,” Dean barked. “I get it.”
“No, but I don’t want you to-”
“It’s fine! I’m failing. It’s… I haven’t done the work and I’m failing.”
“Dean, I don’t want you to give up. You could still…”
Dean had already backed out of the classroom and walked away. He had that stupid appointment with the guidance councillor in half-an-hour, and he wanted to at least get some lunch first. He didn’t think he could face Mr. Shurley on an empty stomach. So far, this day was putting Dean’s vow to never drink anything again until he was at least twenty-one sorely to the test.
…
“So… Dean. Dean… ah… Winchester.”
“Yeah.”
Dean slouched in his seat, staring at the pamphlets on eating disorders and drug use at the front of Mr. Shurley’s desk. The room smelled like disinfectant, and Dean really didn’t want to think about why.
“You know why you’re here?”
“I guess.” His nerves felt paper thin.
Mr. Shurley looked kind of nervous and tired which really boded well for a guy who was employed to help other people with their problems. “How are you feeling now you’re back at school?”
“Bored. Frustrated. Really fucking irritated with everyone and everything. Does that answer your question?”
“Uh… yes. Yes it does. Thank you for being so… forthcoming.”
“Great. Can I go now?”
“Well, I think we should discuss your plans for the future. Things have been tough for a while now by the looks of things and-”
“Do you care?”
Mr Shurley looked scared. “Do I… do I what?”
“Do you care? I mean, do you actually care about my problems? Is this what you love to do, fixing the lives of teenagers?”
“Well, I… I mean this isn’t… that’s hardly the point, Dean.”
“No, well it’s just that if you don’t, and I really don’t think you do, Mr. Shurley, I’d really like to just get back to trying to fix up my crappy life by myself. I’m not really the caring and sharing type, see, and I’ll be honest with you, I’m not gonna get anything out of these little sessions. So I’ll make you a deal: I won’t take up any of your time, and you won’t bother me with stupid questions about my feelings. No one tells the principle and everyone goes home happy.”
The councillor swallowed. “That’s really… that’s not…”
“Listen, ah, Chuck,” Dean read the name from the badge pinned to Mr Shurley’s jacket. “I don’t really care. Yeah, I know I messed up. Yeah, I know I’m flunking everything. But, see, I don’t think that anything that you can do or say is gonna help me. So I’m just gonna leave now.”
“Uh, but, Dean…”
“No, I was just told I had to come to the appointment. It didn’t say anything about actually getting anything out of it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a life to screw up.”
As Dean shut the door to the office, he heard Mr. Shurley feebly call “See you next week!”
…
Dean decided not to go to fifth period. It was only History, and as he was failing everything anyway he couldn’t see that it mattered. He wandered over to the sports field and sat down on the bleachers. It was too cold to be outside, but Dean didn’t feel like being around anyone. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and sunk down into his jacket as much as possible. He closed his eyes against the milky November sunlight, turning his vision red. He felt safer, shut off from the world, like he could hide behind his closed eyelids and not deal with any of this ever again.
Dean had been sat like that for about five minutes when he felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck like he was being watched. He opened his eyes slowly and looked around; the sports field was still empty. There were some birds a few feet away from him, and they’d found what looked like some french fries that someone had dropped. One of the birds tried to fly off with one but another made a grab at it and they fought, wings beating aggressively, their grating cries echoing across the field. Dean watched them idly. It was weird being alone like this. He wondered what it would feel like if he went back into the school and discovered that everyone else had disappeared and he was the only person left in the world.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Fuck!” Dean got up and spun around so quickly that he lost balance, and Castiel had to reach out and grab his jacket to stop him falling over backwards. The guy really did have crazy good reflexes. Dean steadied himself, panting. “You… what the hell? What’re you… how long have you been sitting there?”
“A couple of minutes,” Castiel replied calmly. He cocked his head to one side. “Are you all right, Dean?”
“Dude, you scared the crap out of me! You don’t just sneak up on people then sit down behind them without saying anything!”
“You don’t?”
“No! It’s fucking creepy!”
Castiel frowned and lowered his eyes. “I apologize. I’m not very good at…” he waved his hand in an empty gesture. “Human interaction. I wanted to talk to you, but you looked peaceful and I didn’t like to disturb you.”
“You saw me earlier in home room.”
Castiel grimaced. “You were with your friend. I wasn’t sure if you’d…” He sighed. “In my short time at this school I have learned that I am not the kind of person that… many people wish to be seen with. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
Dean sat down; he felt a little bad for the guy now. “Well… hey, you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t give a fuck what people think, and Jo’s cool. She’s my best friend. Next time just come over, okay? And… and don’t sneak up on me when I’m not expecting it. Say hi or… or at least make some noise when you walk. I mean what are you, a ninja?”
Castiel looked up, almost alarmed. “No, of course not!”
“I was kidding. But yeah, just be…” Dean was going to say ‘just be normal’, but he realized that that advice might be a little redundant in Castiel’s case. Besides, he kind of liked that the guy wasn’t like anyone else. “Just chill. You don’t have to worry. About me.”
Castiel relaxed a little, and Dean thought that he almost smiled. At least, a corner of his mouth twitched. “All right.”
Dean turned back to the playing field; the birds had flown away. There was a white, crisp November wind blowing, and Dean could see gossamer clouds skidding across the sky high above like feathers. It didn’t feel weird, not talking. Dean wasn’t usually comfortable around most other people unless he was playing his role, joking around, flirting, showing off. There were very few people outside of his immediate family, very few, that he could just be with, and they tended to be people he’d known for years. However, Castiel’s presence didn’t bother him in the least. It was kind of ridiculous. He was sat there with a weird, nerdy, super-religious ninja guy perching right behind him, so close that if Dean leaned back even an inch he’d be pressed up against Castiel’s shin. It should make Dean feel profoundly uncomfortable, and yet it was the easiest thing in the world. He wasn’t sure how much of that could be explained away by the fact that Castiel had saved his life because really he thought that something like that would make this situation even more awkward. All things considered, Dean felt that this was one of those things he should just not think about.
“So I’m flunking half my classes,” he said eventually, breaking the silence.
“What do you intend to do about it?” Castiel replied evenly.
“Pfft. Not much I can do. They’ve all written me off as a drop-out. I guess I’ll just have to let my mom know that I’m…” He sighed. “It’s not like I care anyway. This place isn’t gonna get me anywhere.”
“I think you do care.”
Dean turned around, irritated. “Oh, is that what you think, Sigmund Freud? Look, you and me are… we’re cool, okay, but don’t try to psychoanalyse me or any of that shit. You don’t… I’m not like you, all right? I don’t care about any of this crap. I’m just gonna end up working at my dad’s garage whatever I do, so… so what’s the point?”
“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have told me.”
Dean gritted his teeth. He couldn’t argue with that, although he’d really like to try. “Fine. Maybe I care a little bit, but what’s the point? Everything else I said is true. There’s no point in any of it, so I might as well not care, okay? I’m…” Dean turned around to look at the other guy. Castiel was staring at him intently, his expression unfathomable, and Dean momentarily forgot what he’d been trying to say. “I’m…” He cleared his throat and decided that it would be better to look at Castiel’s knees instead. “I hate to break this to you, Castiel, but the guy whose life you saved isn’t smart or successful or even especially nice. I let people down, okay? And I’m not gonna do anything special with this life you gave back to me. I’ve accepted that, and-”
Dean was interrupted by Castiel reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. He really did have a very strong grip, and his hand was right where the bruises had been left that night. They’d faded now, but the ghost of them remained so that Castiel’s touch made Dean’s skin sing. His eyes immediately snapped back to Castiel’s face, and he was shocked by the intensity in the other boy’s gaze.
“Don’t ever say that,” Castiel growled at him. “There was a reason that I was there that night, and there was a reason I saved you. You were meant to be saved, Dean. It happened for a reason, and I’m not going to let you give up on yourself.”
“Woah, okay! Okay! I’m… sorry.” Dean’s heart was beating a little faster than he would have liked. “Cas, you’re kinda hurting my arm there.”
Castiel relaxed his grip, but he still had that fierce look in his eyes. He really was a little intimidating. “I’m sorry. I have problems with… I just don’t want you to… I’m sorry. I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No! Well… yeah, a little. But I… I get….” Dean wasn’t sure what he got. “Why do you even think that about me? I mean, you don’t even know me.”
“I know enough. You’re not a bad person, Dean.”
Dean laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, wait till you know me a bit better.”
“Dean, what are you going to do about your grades?”
“What can I do? I’m failing. I mean, I’d just promised my mom that I’d turn things around, but I guess it’s too late. Another let-down to add to the list.”
“You’re being incredibly self-indulgent.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, it just seems like you’ve got this idea into your head that you’re going to fail and it’s almost as if you want to now because you want to prove yourself right. Also, I think you’re afraid because you suspect that if you actually do try to do better and you don’t succeed, it will be far worse than if you’d never tried at all.”
Dean gaped at him.
“I think you should talk to your teachers. I’m sure there’s something you can do. If… if you like, I’ll help you. I mean, I can help you study. I’m good at schoolwork, and… and it will give me a reason to… Well, I’d be happy to do it. If you’d like.”
Dean finally found his voice. “You are the most… Why the hell do you even care?”
Castiel frowned and looked away. “I don’t know. So far I find you incredibly frustrating, but… but I want to…” He sighed. “I can’t explain it. I brought you back from the point of death. I feel responsible. In a way, it makes me your third parent.”
“Like hell it does!”
“It does, if you think about it.”
“Well, I’m not gonna! You are not my parent.”
“Dean.”
“You’re not!”
“I just don’t like to leave a job unfinished. I believe we met for a reason, and I saved your life for a reason. Plus, we decided at the hospital that we were going to try to be friends. I have no prior experience of friendship, but I believe it entails elements of support and… and… being there for one another in times of crisis. If I am to be your friend I intend to do it properly. I can help you pass this year. I’ve been getting A’s in all my subjects. I would like to help you. Will you at least think about it?”
Dean thought. He thought about his mother and the promise he’d made. He thought about how Castiel was right, and he really was afraid of trying and failing, though like hell he was going to admit it. He thought about actually achieving something for once. He thought about how no one had bothered enough to notice that Dean was giving up on himself, and certainly no one had been willing to sacrifice their time to help him, until Castiel came along. He thought about how irritated he was with Castiel right now, and how the guy was self-righteous and presumptuous and obviously thought he knew best despite being ignorant of the circumstances. He thought about how Castiel seemed to think that friendship was something you got graded on and he was determined to get an A. Dean thought it was weird that despite being annoyed and freaked out, he still liked the guy.
“Okay,” he mumbled.
“Really?”
“Look, I don’t want you putting yourself out for me or anything. I don’t need anyone’s pity. I don’t think you-”
“You can stop talking now. Let’s go and see your teachers about getting some extra credit.”
Castiel set off across the playing field back to the school, and Dean was left to trail behind, feeling like he’d very much like to throw something at the back of Castiel’s head.
…
“So then he makes me stay behind after school to see all my teachers. Even friggin’ Henriksen who was a smug son-of-a-bitch about the whole thing. Do you realize how much work I have to do now, Sammy? Do you? Because I think it’s safe to say that I can kiss goodbye to my social life for the next decade. God, this was a horrible idea. A horrible, horrible idea. And he’s coming over tomorrow night to help me study for my science make-up test. It’s like… it’s like I bought a puppy or something. Yeah, it’s like I bought a puppy, and it seemed like a good idea at the time but now it’s taken over my life and it’s eaten my favorite shoes and I can’t go out anymore because it’ll pee in my bed. Yeah! Castiel is like a disruptive puppy!”
Sam looked up from his Biology textbook, confused. “You think Castiel’s gonna pee in your bed?”
“What? No! It’s a metaphor, Sam!”
“Right,” Sam sighed. “Poor you, having someone who’s offered to give up their time to help you despite the fact that you’re a complete jerk. Must be tough, Dean.”
“Shut up,” Dean muttered.
“You know, you don’t have to hang out in my bedroom. Feel free to do something else.”
“Oh come on, Sam! I’m not like you, okay? I’m not good at the whole study thing.”
Sam sighed again. “You’ll cope.”
“Dude, what the hell is your problem? Why are you being so pissy?”
Sam pulled a face and put his book aside. “I’m sorry. It’s just… there’s this girl in my English class.”
“Ooooh.” Dean grinned. “A girl! Well, that is something I can help you with. Who is she? Is it that Ava chick?”
“No! Ava’s just my friend. It’s… she’s called Ruby and she’s really pretty and smart, but she’s part of the popular crowd and she doesn’t even know I exist.”
Dean laughed. It would seem he wasn’t the only Winchester throwing himself a pity party. “Come on, Sam, have you even tried to talk to her?”
“No. There’s no point; we belong to different worlds.”
“That never stopped me. All you need is confidence. You know, make her feel special, tell a couple of jokes, don’t act desperate. Come on, if there’s one thing us Winchester men are good at it’s getting girls to like us.”
Sam looked up at him uncertainly. “You… you really think she’d like me?”
“Sure! If all else fails, say you’re related to me. She’ll see that you have the potential to turn into this in four years, and she’ll be all over you.”
Sam snorted. “Yeah, right. The fewer people at school who know we’re related the better. In fact, I’m thinking of starting a rumor that you were adopted from a family of circus people who left you on our doorstep.”
Dean threw a sneaker at his brother.
“Dean!”
…
Castiel cornered Dean the next morning in home room. Or rather he loomed over Dean, who was talking to Jo about their plans for the weekend. He didn’t even say anything, he just stared until Dean broke off his conversation and looked up nervously.
“Cas?”
“We need to talk. Outside. Come please.” He turned abruptly and walked out of the room.
Jo looked at Dean incredulously. “Do you think he was raised by woodland creatures?”
“I’ll get back to you on that one,” Dean replied as he got up to follow Castiel.
The other boy was waiting for him anxiously in the corridor.
“What’s up, Cas?”
“I have to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I got that. What about?”
“It’s about tonight. I… I can still come over, but I… Um.”
“What?”
“Well, we may have to stop off at my house first. I need to pick up my notes, and also… well, my family are… it’s hard to explain.”
“Well, it’s no problem to swing by your place. It’s only a short detour, right?”
“Yes but, Dean, it’s more about my family.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You see, they’re very… they have these ideas about how things should be done. They’re very committed to the church, as am I, but… well.”
“Cas, while we’re still young?”
“The thing is, the only reason I was allowed to come to public school was because I persuaded them that I would use the opportunity to introduce more young people to our mission. I’ve been spreading the word amongst the students in the FCS, and that’s fine, but… well, I’m not exactly allowed to… Let’s just say that they would not look kindly upon my socialising with people outside of the context of the church.”
“So… what are you saying?”
“Just that… if you wouldn’t mind meeting them briefly. I am not asking you to lie, but I may have implied that I was… trying to convert you.
“You what?”
Castiel held up a hand defensively. “I know! I… Look, that’s not my agenda. I have no intention of…” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I had to say it. I argued that it was more important for me to work with individuals who were not already open to the teachings of the church, and…”
“Aw, Cas, I don’t know about this.”
“Dean, I’m sorry. I know it’s reprehensible of me, but there was no other way I would be allowed to help you. All you will need to do is… is come over for five minutes and not… contradict any of their assumptions. I hate to ask this of you, and if it were my decision I would not involve you with my family, but…” He pressed his lips together, his eyes fixed on Dean’s shoes.
Dean felt acutely uncomfortable about all of this. Still, he figured it was the least he could do when the guy was going out of his way to help Dean study when he really didn’t have to. “Sure, Cas,” he said. “Don’t worry, it’s not a problem. I’ll ask Jo if she can give Sam a ride home.”
Castiel exhaled. “Thank you, Dean. I promise it won’t take up much time.”
“Don’t sweat it. It’ll be fine.”
He clapped a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and the two of them walked back into the classroom together. Dean looked sideways at the other boy and noticed that he was almost smiling again.
…
“This really won’t take long.” Castiel’s fingers were beating a nervous tattoo on his knee.
“Relax, dude. Now, is it a left here?”
“Um, yes. Left, and then the driveway is at the end of the road.”
Castiel lived in the nice part of town. Actually, no. Dean lived in the nice part of town. Castiel lived in the rich part of town. This was where investment bankers and politicians had houses. Dean wasn’t exactly surprised; he knew that Castiel’s father had a huge following and that it must bring in lots of money. All the same, Cas really didn’t look like someone who was rich. Dean had only seen him wear about three different outfits, and he always seemed slightly… destitute.
Dean turned down a long, tree-lined driveway.
“We really don’t have to stay long. Just let me get my notes and we’ll leave.”
“Seriously, take it easy!”
“I just don’t want you to think… Never mind.”
Dean pulled up outside Castiel’s house. To be more accurate, it was a four-storey Queen Anne style mansion. He killed the engine. “Wow. Dude, you are gonna be seriously unimpressed by my place.”
“Don’t say that, Dean! I would never… you mustn’t think that I would ever set any store by property or-”
“I was kidding!” Seriously, did the guy take everything literally?
Castiel was sitting very still in the passenger seat, looking up at the house with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I talk too much when I’m nervous.” He made no effort to move.
“Um… Cas? Are we doing this?”
“Oh! Um. Yes. Right.” Castiel got out of the car and walked quickly over to the house.
Dean followed, taking in his surroundings. It was a beautiful property, but there was something about it that was… cold. Dean felt like the house itself disapproved of him. He stood beside Castiel on the porch, hands in his pockets, while his friend fumbled with a set of keys. Before he could find the right one, however, the door was opened by a grey middle-aged man who looked at them both coldly.
“I expected you earlier than this,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Castiel replied. “Um, Dean, this is my Uncle Zachariah. Uncle, this is Dean Winchester, who I was telling you about.”
Uncle Zachariah gave Dean a cold smile. “Ah yes, Castiel’s problem case.” He held out a hand which Dean shook reluctantly.
“I never said that,” Castiel protested quietly. “Um, Dean is… Dean is unfamiliar with the church, that’s all.”
Another cold smile from Uncle Zachariah. “Well, I hope that Castiel will bring you to the light. He is a fine orator when he puts his mind to it.”
“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. “Yes, Sir, it’s… all really interesting.”
“Well, you’d better get inside. We’re letting all the cold air in.”
Dean followed Castiel through the door, and quickly discovered that the inside of the house was just as unwelcoming as the outside. It was dark and smelled like dust and mothballs. The walls were painted dark red to complement the walnut wainscoting, but with the lack of light in the place it just made things look even gloomier. There was nothing about the house that suggested a family home; it was the kind of place that made you feel like you had to whisper, or like you’d get in trouble for touching anything.
Dean stole a glance at Castiel, who was looking acutely nervous. Poor guy. Well, Dean would make an effort, if only to avoid getting his new friend into trouble.
“Come on through,” Zachariah called. “We’re in the front room. We’re working on Martin Luther today. I’m afraid Anna is still a little unfocused.”
“I’m sorry,” Castiel muttered to Dean. “This really-”
“Won’t take long, I know. It’s cool.”
Dean didn’t know why Zachariah had complained about letting the cold air in, because the house was freezing enough as it was. He wondered if the place even had any heating, or if the family just didn’t choose to use it.
The front room had a high stucco ceiling and would have been quite beautiful if it had been made to look a little cheerier. It was full of heavy mahogany furniture: a large bookcase, several ornate coffee tables, an empty dresser. There was a set of hard-looking armchairs surrounding the fireplace, and there were two people sitting there: a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, and a redheaded girl who Dean guessed was a year or so younger than him. They were both reading, the silence broken only be the loud ticking of a large grandfather clock in the corner. Dean felt that even the air was heavy in this house.
“We have a guest,” Zachariah announced.
Castiel cleared his throat. “This is Dean Winchester, the boy from school I was telling you about. We’re not staying long. I am helping Dean with his studies. Dean, this is my older brother Michael, and my cousin Anna.”
Michael nodded in greeting, looking at Dean appraisingly. Anna said a quiet “hello.” Dean noticed that she was pretty but had a sulky mouth. She looked bored and miserable, and Dean immediately felt sorry for her.
“Well,” Castiel said. “I… We have to go. I need to collect some things and then. We, um. Have to go.” He tugged at the sleeve of Dean’s jacket.
“I hope we’ll see you again soon, Mr. Winchester,” Michael said. He had a clear, articulate voice, and Dean realized that Castiel wasn’t the only one in his family who liked to stare. Michael looked nothing like Castiel, and Dean would never have guessed they were brothers. Michael was fairer, more muscular. He looked well put-together in a light grey suit and white dinner shirt. He had the same penetrating gaze as his brother though, but while Dean had always been kind of amused when Castiel stared, Michael made him feel uneasy.
“Uh, yeah,” Dean replied. “Sure thing.”
“You will be back no later than nine, Castiel,” Uncle Zachariah called after them. “I will not be pleased if you miss silent prayer.”
“Yes, Sir,” Castiel replied.
Dean followed Castiel in silence as they walked along a corridor, up a flight of stairs, up another flight of stairs, along another corridor and up a third, much narrower, staircase.
“Here,” Castiel said tightly as they reached the top. “This is my room. I won’t be long and then we can leave.” Dean could practically feel the tension radiating off him, but he wasn’t about to say anything. He followed Cas into the room.
“How come they put you up here?” Dean asked. “I’d have figured a place like this would have enough rooms that you didn’t need to be in the attic.”
“Oh… I chose this room. I like to be up high. Away from everything.”
“Yeah, I… I get that.”
Castiel’s room was a good size, but very bare. In fact, it was completely empty apart from a narrow bed, a desk and a small wardrobe. The only mark of individuality was the row of well-cared-for books lined up on the windowsill. The room smelled like pine and cotton, and it seemed… lighter than the rest of the house. Like the mood had lifted.
“This won’t take long,” Castiel said, opening a draw of the desk and rifling through some papers.
Dean laughed softly. “Cas, you sound like a stuck record.” He wandered over to the window and looked out. He could see why Castiel liked it up here: there was a great view across the trees, and Dean could see the city in the distance. He thought that the lights must look pretty at night. The window looked over the back garden of the property which was a considerable size, although a large part of it was taken up by a whitewashed outhouse. “Hey, Cas?” he called. “What’s that building out back?”
“Hm? Oh, that’s our family chapel. We use it for evening prayer. Sometimes others come along.”
“Oh, okay.” Dean was friends with a guy who had a church in his back garden. His life was weird.
Dean’s read the titles of the books on the windowsill. They all looked really dull. There was a bookmark lying beside them with what looked like a poem written on it, and Dean picked it up to read.
For he shall give his angels charge over thee,
To keep thee in all thy ways.
They shall bear thee up in their hands,
Lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
- Psalm 91:11-12
Well, that figured.
“My father gave that to me when I was a boy,” Castiel said, coming to stand beside him. “He always… he liked what the Bible says about angels.”
“Yeah, it’s… nice. I mean, I don’t know if I exactly believe in any of that stuff you know, but… yeah. Reminds me of something my mom used to say when I was a kid.” He put the bookmark down carefully on the desk. “So, does your dad come here a lot?”
He knew immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. Castiel’s face went blank, and he looked away from Dean. “My father has never been here. I haven’t seen him in five years. He… he’s very busy. His schedule means that he has to travel a lot, and… and he’s devoted his life to spreading God’s word, so… so it’s just us. My uncle decided to move here last year. My father keeps in touch by phone, but he mostly talks to Uncle Zachariah. He… advises us on how we should be spreading the word.”
“Oh. Right. So… So I guess your family is pretty close.”
“Not really. We are united by our faith, but we don’t… we don’t talk. I don’t know how… I… I don’t think we are like most families. We don’t talk about… about anything outside of the church. I spend most of my free time alone, reading or walking. It’s… it’s all right. I’ve never craved close companionship with others.”
Dean stared. It struck him that this was the most alone person he had ever met.
Castiel looked up at him. “We should go.”
…
Castiel was very quiet in the car. Dean didn’t know what to say. He could see now why Castiel had been so anxious about him coming over. Dean couldn’t imagine having a family like that, and he was suddenly very grateful for his own. His parents had never been super religious. Sure, they went to church at Christmas and Easter, but it wasn’t something they were ruled by. Dean didn’t get it. Surely if you believe in God that much, the best thing you can do is go out and enjoy the life that you’d been given, not shut yourself away in the dark, away from love and companionship, away from fun. He couldn’t reconcile himself to the idea.
He felt bad for Cas, having to go back to that night after night. Little wonder the guy had been so keen to come over to Dean’s and help him study. And what the hell was going on with Castiel’s father? Was he just another of those cold, emotionless men who was so committed to God that he forgot to love the people who were actually in his life? Was he another celebrity preacher who only cared about making money and didn’t really live by the lessons he was teaching? Either way, it sucked to be Castiel.
“Hey, Cas?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks for this, man. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be the best student, but I’m gonna try. I… no one’s looked out for me like this before, and… and it means a lot.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dean had never been happier to see his own house with the basketball hoop above the garage and the old tree in the front yard, and the peeling paint on the front door that his dad kept promising to touch up but somehow never got round to. He thought he might ask his mom to make them some of her amazing hot chocolate while they studied. He thought Castiel might appreciate something warming before he went back to that chill, loveless house of his. No wonder the guy wore so many layers.
“Come on in,” he called, pushing the car door shut. “I thought we’d set up in the dining room. I’m gonna warn you, Cas, I haven’t studied in a long time and I’m not as smart as you are, okay?”
“I know.”
Dean scowled. “There’s no need to sound quite so smug about it.”
They went inside, and Dean threw his schoolbag down. “Mom?” he called. “You home?”
“In the kitchen!”
Dean grinned at his friend, who was still standing nervously by the door. “Come on through.”
Mary was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper, and Dean was not surprised to see an empty coffee pot beside her. “How was school, honey?” she asked, not looking up.
“Yeah, it was fine. Uh, Mom, this is Castiel. He’s gonna help me cram for that Chem test I gotta do next week. Is it okay if we use the dining room?”
Mary’s attention was caught immediately. She got to her feet, staring at Castiel. “So you’re… you’re Castiel? The boy who… You were the one who found Dean that night.”
Castiel rocked a little on the balls of his feet. “Um, yes, Mrs Winchester. I-”
He was interrupted by Mary rushing over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. Castiel’s eyes grew very wide, and he looked at Dean over Mary’s shoulder with something very like panic, his arms held rigidly at his sides.
“Thank you,” Mary whispered, holding onto Castiel tightly. “Thank you so much for my son.”
“Um, that’s all right,” Castiel replied stiffly. He reached up and tentatively patted Mary a couple of times on the back.
Dean almost laughed at the look of complete bewilderment on Castiel’s face. Anyone would think he’d never been hugged before. And then it occurred to him: he probably hadn’t. Cas’s family did not seem like the affectionate sort.
“Mom, leave him alone. He came over for a study date, not to get assaulted.”
Mary pulled back, her eyes over-bright. She gave Castiel a warm smile. “Thank you,” she said again.
Castiel looked at her gently. “It was my pleasure.”
“Mom,” Dean insisted. “Is it okay for us to use the dining room?”
“What? Oh, of course you can! Yes, go wherever you want. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Can we have hot chocolate? Oh, and some sandwiches. I’m starving. And… are there any of those muffins left over? The ones with the cinnamon?”
Mary grinned. “I’ll see what I can do. Castiel, would you like some hot chocolate?”
Castiel looked at her shyly. “I’ve never had it before, but… yes please.”
“All right then, I’ll go heat up some milk. You boys go get settled.”
Dean laughed softly as they left the kitchen. “You might wanna watch out - I think my mom wants to adopt you.”
Castiel didn’t say anything, but there was a soft look in his eyes. Dean picked up his bag from where he’d dropped it, and got out his long neglected Chemistry textbook. “Okay, how do you wanna do this?” He led Castiel through to the dining room, which the Winchesters only ever used for its designated purpose on special occasions. He noticed that his dad had put some sheets of newspaper on the table and had laid out some oily engine parts on them. Why the guy couldn’t just do that stuff in the garage, the rest of the family would never understand. Dean cleared them away, embarrassed. Castiel was used to things being a little more refined than this. The other boy didn’t seem to have noticed, though. He was staring at the family bookcase.
“You have so many titles,” he said quietly. “We only have religious books in our house. I don’t really mind; I find theology interesting, but it’s… nice to read something else occasionally.” He looked at Dean guiltily. “My family don’t know this, but I borrow other books from the library, and I stay up at night reading them.”
“Wow,” Dean replied flatly. “You rebel, Cas.”
Castiel did not seem to detect the irony.
Dean threw his book down on the table. “Okay, let’s do this,” he sighed. “Pull up a chair. Uh… where do you think we should, you know, start?”
Castiel frowned in contemplation. “Well, you’ll be familiar with the periodic table, so maybe we could go over some chemical compounds, and-”
“Uh, Cas? When you say familiar, you mean that I know what the periodic table is, right? I mean, I’d recognize one if I saw it.”
“No, I mean that you know all the basic elements.”
“Uh…”
“You don’t?”
“I know that Fe is iron!” Dean replied defensively.
Castiel looked slightly aghast, and Dean scowled. Yeah, he knew he was behind, but now he was starting to feel stupid. “Okay, okay, I know I’m dumb. I did warn you.”
Castiel reached out and grabbed Dean’s wrist, making him wince. The guy had the hands of a rock-climbing jazz pianist. Dean looked up at him, because Cas really wasn’t giving him much of a choice.
“You are not stupid, Dean.” Really, it didn’t make sense that anyone’s eyes could be that blue. “You’re not. You’re behind, that’s all. You are more than capable of the task ahead, and I am going to make sure that you get through this.”
Dean’s mouth quirked into half a smile. “You’re really not gonna give up on me, are you?”
“Never. Now, open your book. By the end of this evening you will have the whole periodic table memorised.”
Dean sighed. He hoped his mom came through with the supplies soon, because he had the feeling that he was going to need all the sustenance he could get.
Chapter 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3