Jump the Track: Chapter 6
Title - Jump the Track
Chapter - 6/?
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, sexual references
Spoilers - References to characters from seasons 1-6. Apart from that, it's completely AU.
December snuck up on Dean. Everything had been so weird and stressful that he hadn’t been keeping track, and then suddenly stores were being decorated for Christmas and Dean realized with dismay that he had to go gift shopping. He sucked at gift shopping. He didn’t think his mother had forgiven him yet for the Christmas Dean was twelve and he’d bought her a large crystal duck. Still, it meant that she’d at least made the effort to give each of her sons lists of suitable gift ideas ever since.
Christmas wasn’t the only thing bothering him: his friends had all been immersed in college applications for a while now. Jo had pretty much decided on NYU, Ash was finally off to MIT, Pam had deferred her place at UCA for a year to go traveling… Everyone was preparing to move on, to put Lawrence in their rear-view mirror. Everyone except Dean. His one comfort was that Castiel hadn’t mentioned college. He was a little surprised - Cas was a straight-A student and could probably get into any Ivy League school he wanted. Then again, there was Cas’s family. He’d made it very clear that being allowed to go to public school had been a pretty big concession, and Dean doubted whether the charming Uncle Zach would take kindly to his nephew heading off by himself. It sucked for Cas; if there was ever anyone suited to higher education it was him. Still, there was a horrible, selfish part of Dean that was pleased. If Castiel was going to be staying in Lawrence, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Having said that, things had been… different between the two of them lately. It could just be Dean’s imagination. Castiel hadn’t mentioned what had happened between Dean and Anna since that night, which Dean was thankful for. He hadn’t wanted his friend to think he was putting the moves on Anna or wanted to get with her. She was a beautiful girl, but he really couldn’t deal with the complications right now. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right somehow, her being Castiel’s cousin.
Dean had continued to study with Cas, careful not to mention the subject of the other boy’s family. Dean hoped they were okay. He thought they were okay, only there was a strange distance between them that hadn’t been there before. It bothered him, not least because he had the distinct impression that Castiel was sad about something. Dean wanted to ask what was wrong, but he had the feeling that Cas would resent the intrusion.
It was weird; Dean had never given so much thought to a friendship before. He’d never worried so much about what a friend thought of him or how he could make things better. Then again, he’d never had a friend to whom he owed his life.
…
Christmas in the Winchester household was always something of an event. It was all down to John, really. Dean was the first to admit that his father was quite possibly the biggest Christmas geek that ever existed. As soon as the first day of December rolled around, John would start getting boxes down from the attic, and the whole family would be enlisted in the mission to turn the house into a regular Santa’s grotto.
When he’d been little, Dean had found it all enchanting. Then when he’d hit his teens, it had been excruciatingly embarrassing. Now, however, he’d reached an age where he could find his father’s child-like enthusiasm kind of endearing. It was nice that John wanted to make things special for them all, and Dean was feeling distinctly nostalgic for his earlier years when everything was still fresh and clean for him. He felt like he really wanted to enjoy this Christmas for a change. He didn’t even mind the hideous singing Father Christmas his dad always insisted on putting in the front hall which rocked from side to side and played the most sinister rendition of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ ever, whenever anyone was foolish enough to walk too close to it. Dean, Sam and Mary referred to it as the ‘anti-Claus’. John insisted that it was festive.
“Okay, family, listen up,” he announced over breakfast on the first Saturday of the month. “We all know what day it is: Christmas Tree Day. Now, at eleven-hundred hours, we’re going to go pick out the perfect tree. At thirteen-hundred hours we’ll bring it home and get it in the house. We’ll have a lunch break after that, and Mary? How about some of your special Christmas cookies? That way the house will smell like pine and gingerbread. At seventeen-hundred hours we’ll all gather in the front room to decorate the tree. Then after dinner, Dean and I will go out to put up the outside lights on the house. I bought some new ones, so if that damn Mr Costello across the street thinks he’s going to outdo me this year, he’s got another thing coming. You know, I never thought I’d enjoy having a Christmas nemesis, but I do. Oh, I do.” He laughed, a little darkly.
Dean wondered whether anyone else’s parents considered preparing for the holidays as a military operation.
“Dad, do we all have to go get the tree?” Sam whined. “Seriously? Cause I’ve got a book report to finish.”
“Sam, Christmas is the one time of year when we all do things together as a family,” John replied. “Come on, you used to love picking out the tree! I know that it’s not cool to hang out with your family. I know you’d much rather be… poking your friends on Face Space or whatever, but I’m sure you can spare an hour or so to spend some quality time with us.”
Sam groaned and banged his head down on the table, and Dean burst out laughing. “Dad… are you talking about Facebook?”
John scowled half-heartedly. “Well, I don’t know what it is you people do on there. I don’t see why you can’t just call each other on the telephone. It worked just fine for us, didn’t it, Mary?”
Dean rolled his eyes; his father was the biggest technophobe he’d ever met. He still remembered the time that John had texted him ‘9317 7342 25 958 9157 42 75 4227 958#’ because he’d somehow managed to put the number lock on on his phone. “Yeah, Dad, and whatever happened to the abacus as well?”
Sam snickered. “Yeah, and the horse and carriage. It was good enough back in your day, right Dad?”
“I don’t have to put up with this abuse,” John grumbled, jamming his Santa hat back on his head and stalking out of the kitchen.
…
Dean was looking forward to school breaking up. Thanks to Castiel, he wasn’t completely failing any of his classes anymore, but he was still only hanging on by a thread and he could use a break. Not that he expected to get that much time for relaxation: he’d already agreed to some extra hours at the garage, and Castiel had given him a long list of things to study up on over the holidays. Still, he wouldn’t actually have to be in school, and that was something. No more being around other people and having to put on an act. No more reminders that this was the end of the line for him. No more stupid counselling sessions.
Having said that, Dean didn’t hate his sessions with Mr Shurley as much as he’d thought he would. Sure, the guy was pretty awful at his job, but Dean didn’t really care. In fact, he was grateful - the last thing he wanted was someone trying to get him to talk about his feelings. Instead, the sessions were a pleasant weekly break from classes. Chuck was an okay guy, really. In fact, he seemed grateful for Dean’s insistence that they don’t try to discuss personal matters. It turned out that Dean’s assumption that Chuck wasn’t really into his job had been right - apparently he just needed the money while he got his writing career off the ground.
“So what is it you’re writing, exactly?” Dean asked on their last session of the semester.
“Oh… it’s a fantasy series. It’s about two brothers who drive around America fighting the supernatural. The first one’s been published and it’s doing pretty well, but, you know, not earning me enough to get me out of this hell hole just yet.” Chuck laughed nervously and popped a couple of aspirin. “The second one should be out next month.”
Dean nodded. “Sounds cool, I love that kind of stuff. I’m the biggest horror fan.”
“Oh, me too! I’m using lots of urban legend stuff in the books, you know.”
Dean laughed. “Well, I guess you live in the right place for that. Lots of famous paranormal shit in Lawrence.”
“You mean Stull Cemetery? Yeah, I’m thinking of doing something with that in the future.”
“And have you seen Carnival of Souls? They filmed the bridge scene here.”
“No kidding? I love that movie!”
“Yeah, I mean they demolished the actual bridge, but you can still-” The bell rang for lunch. “Well, Chuck, I’d love to stay and chat, but it’s pizza day today. Hey, have a good Christmas.”
Dean was surprised to see Castiel waiting for him outside the councillor’s office. He hadn’t seen much of his friend outside of their study sessions, and he was starting to feel like Castiel had been avoiding him.
The other boy gave him a small smile. “I was passing on my way to the cafeteria and I remembered you had an appointment today. May I have lunch with you?”
Dean laughed. “Dude, you don’t have to wait for an invitation!” He slung an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Just relax, okay? It’s good to see you. Now come on, it’s pizza day today - I don’t wanna be late or all the good stuff’ll be gone.”
Castiel almost laughed. Dean wanted to ask him if they were okay, but couldn’t think of any way of doing it which wouldn’t make him sound like a total girl. It was bad enough that he cared this much without Cas knowing he cared.
They passed Lisa and some other cheerleaders on the way into the cafeteria. Lisa said hi to Dean, and her friends immediately collapsed into fits of giggles. Dean scowled; he hated when girls did that.
“If you want to have lunch with… with her, it’s all right,” Castiel said quietly.
“What? Why the hell would I want to do that? Cas, Lisa and I aren’t… I mean, we’re not together. We just hook up occasionally.”
“Hook up?”
“Yeah. You know, have sex. But that’s it; neither of us wants anything more.”
“Oh!” Castiel looked a little flustered. “I see.”
Dean hid a smile; Castiel was a total maiden aunt sometimes. “Lots and lots of sex,” Dean teased, earning himself a disapproving look from one of the lunch ladies. “In lots of different positions, Cas. And she has these leather knee-high boots, and sometimes she’ll keep them on when we do it.” He glanced back at his friend, amused. He’d only been trying to see exactly how embarrassed he could make the guy, but he was surprised by the look on Castiel’s face. He looked like he was about to pass out or something. “Hey… you okay, Cas?”
Castiel looked up at him, then immediately turned his eyes away again. “Yes. That is, I… I forgot that… I’m not hungry.” With that he turned and marched out of the dining hall.
“Cas, wait up! What’s wrong?”
Someone grabbed Dean’s arm, and he turned to see Pam at his side. “Dean, what’s going on? Is he okay?”
“How the hell should I know? He was fine a minute ago! I swear, that guy needs some kind of psych evaluation or something - he’s getting weirder by the day.” Dean was starting to feel a little pissed off now.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing! Why do you always assume that I did something? We were just talking about Lisa, and I started joking around about having sex with her, and the next thing I know he’s having some kind of… of episode!”
Pam punched him hard on the arm. “Dean, you’re such a fucking jerk sometimes!”
“Ow! What the hell? I didn’t do anything! Pam! I didn’t do anything!”
…
A week before Christmas, Dean finally had the opportunity to find out a little more about Castiel’s father, the renowned Reverend Manuel Delacroix.
Things with Castiel had continued to be weird. The other guy hadn’t mentioned what had happened in the cafeteria, and clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. Still, Dean knew that he’d screwed up again somehow. He’d alienated Castiel just when things were starting to get better between them. The trouble was that he still didn’t fully understand what he’d done wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have teased the guy about sex. It hadn’t been fair of him, not when he knew Cas wasn’t exactly experienced in that department. Still, he’d horsed around like that with his other male friends and it had been taken as a joke - how was he supposed to know the rules were different with Cas?
Because the rules always had been different where Castiel was concerned. Dean had known it, right from the start. Castiel wasn’t like any of his other friends. So why did Dean continue to do this? Why did he keep opening his mouth and saying things that were just downright careless? Dean hated himself a little more for that. Every time something good came along, he screwed it up. Every time a decent person took an interest in him, he pushed them away. He knew perfectly well that Castiel was far too good to be his friend. Yet that same selfish part of Dean that didn’t want Cas to go to college couldn’t bear to let him go without a fight.
Dean had been absent-mindedly flipping through TV channels, trying to figure out how he was going to fix things this time, when the name ‘Delacroix’ made him pause with the remote. At first he thought it was just his imagination seeing as he was worried about Cas, but he went back a couple of channels and found himself watching one of the Christian stations he usually avoided like the plague.
He was immediately drawn in by the man on the screen. The script at the top of the screen told him that he was indeed watching the esteemed Reverend Manuel Delacroix, Cas’s father. Dean felt his stomach do a weird little flip-flop, and he leaned forward in his seat. The man looked to be in his mid- to late- fifties, and he was shorter and fairer than Castiel. Facially he looked more like Michael, but Dean noticed that he had Castiel’s startlingly blue eyes.
“At this time of year,” the Reverend was saying, “everyone seems to be getting caught up in commercialism, don’t they?” Dean rolled his eyes - another lecture on how being religious meant not having any fun. Not that he was surprised after meeting the rest of Cas’s family. But then Manuel Delacroix grinned. “And I don’t think that has to be a bad thing. Christmas should be a celebration. It’s a time when we are put under pressure to think of our loved ones, to choose gifts for them that they will enjoy, to cook food for them, to spend time with them. Personally, I can think of no better way to celebrate the arrival of Christ on Earth. Christmas forces us to make an effort, to think of others and step outside of our routine. Don’t resist it. Don’t think of it as a chore. A wonderful way to honor the birth of Christ is by taking the opportunity to enjoy yourselves and give joy to others. Remember that-”
Dean switched off the TV. Well, he hadn’t been expecting that. There was something affable and welcoming about the guy, and Dean could kind of tell why he was such a big hit. Okay, so the Reverend had obviously been neglecting his own family, but it wasn’t like he was spouting any of the hateful, bigoted crap that Dean had heard from other celebrity priests. If Dean was in any way religious, he thought he could get on board with the guy’s way of thinking. Which begged the question of why the hell the rest of Castiel’s family were so cold and severe, and why Cas and Anna were so tightly reined in. Dean frowned. There was definitely something weird going on.
…
In the end, Dean decided to take the high road - that evening, he apologized to Castiel. He did it via a text message, but he reasoned that when it came to him being less of a dick, baby steps were better than none at all.
CAS. SRY ABOUT THE OTHER DAY. IT WAS A DICK MOVE. WE STILL OK 4 THURS?
Within ten minutes, he’d had a reply.
THERE’S NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE, DEAN. I SHOULD NOT HAVE REACTED IN THE WAY THAT I DID. IT WAS FOOLISH OF ME. PLEASE DON’T THINK ANY MORE OF IT. YES, THURSDAY IS STILL GOOD FOR ME. CASTIEL.
The message made Dean smile. Castiel seemed to be physically incapable of not using perfect grammar in text messages. He was also relieved - clearly Cas bore no hard feelings about what had happened and was keen to forget the whole thing, which was just fine by Dean. Things were all right between them, and they would study together on Thursday, and everything would be okay.
He went down to the kitchen, feeling infinitely lighter at heart. Mary was sat at the kitchen table reading one of her crime novels, and she jumped when she realized Dean was in the room.
“Oh! God, Dean, I have to stop reading these things.”
Dean laughed and helped himself to a bowl of cereal. He hadn’t felt like eating much at dinner and suddenly realized that he was starving.
“You seem very happy tonight,” his mother mused. “You were like a bear with a sore head earlier, we couldn’t get two words out of you.”
Dean looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry about that. I’m just, you know… it’s been hard work catching up at school. I’m kinda tired.”
Mary arched an eyebrow. “Mm-hm. So when do we get to meet her?”
“Who?”
Mary’s face was a mask of innocence. “Oh… no one. I just hope she’s worth all the stress.”
Dean was confused. Surely his mom wasn’t talking about Lisa? He hadn’t even spoken to the girl in a week, and he was fairly sure he hadn’t mentioned her to anyone in his family. Why would he? Sometimes his mother could be a very strange woman.
“I have some good news,” Mary said, pulling Dean out of his reverie. “We’re finally going to meet Uncle Bobby’s new lady friend.”
“No shi- No way!” Dean replied. “When?”
“I’ve persuaded him to invite her over for dinner on Christmas Eve. I promised that we’d all be on our best behavior.”
“So, what did you find out?” Dean asked through a mouth of cereal. He and John and both cautiously attempted to get Bobby to talk about his mystery date at the garage, but they hadn’t gotten anywhere.
Mary smiled. “Her name’s Jody, she works in law enforcement, she got divorced five years ago and she has a son. She grew up in North Dakota, she likes Mexican food, and she has introduced Bobby to Fringe, which is apparently very good and I should watch it.”
Dean nodded appreciatively. “You’re good.”
Mary shrugged. “I’m a journalist.”
…
Dean had to stop off at the garage on Thursday, and Castiel had agreed to take the bus and meet Dean back at the Winchester’s house. Dean had hoped to beat him there but the traffic had been bad, and Castiel was already sitting at the dining room table when Dean got home. Talking with Sam.
“This is so awesome!” Sam was enthusing. “I mean, I’ve never met anyone who’s even heard of Gustav Meyrink, let alone read anything by him! What did you think of The Angel at the West Window?”
Castiel smiled softly, and for some reason it annoyed Dean. “I enjoyed it very much. I recently finished The Golem. Have you read it? I think you’d enjoy it; it’s a quite brilliant metaphor for the predicament of the Jews in nineteenth-century Europe. Very bleak.”
Dean cleared his throat loudly. “Hey, Green-Eggs-And-Sam, don’t you have a date with your World of Warcraft buddies? It’s just that Cas and I have actual work to do.”
Sam scowled. “God, Dean, you’re such a jerk.” He stomped out of the room, and Dean felt a stab of guilt. He didn’t know why he’d snapped at the kid like that.
“I did come here to see you, you know,” Castiel said. He was looking at Dean gently, and it was more than a little discomforting.
“Yeah, I… I know.”
“I enjoy your company, Dean. Very much.”
Dean laughed awkwardly. “Good to know, Cas. Come on, let’s go get some snacks - if we’re gonna be doing History, I’m gonna need some serious fuel.”
Castiel looked a little shocked by the extent of Christmas cheer that surrounded him. Dean couldn’t really blame him - he didn’t suppose that many families decided to turn their house into a full-on grotto every December. He smiled apologetically. “My parents get a little… holiday obsessed. It’s kinda lame, but we do it every year, and it’s pretty fun once you get into it.”
Castiel smiled at him. “I think it’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s… is that a singing Santa Claus?”
Dean quickly ushered his friend into the kitchen.
Mary smiled warmly when she saw Castiel. “Hello, sweetheart. Would you like a gingerbread cookie? Dean’s father will end up eating them all otherwise.” She held out a plate.
“Thank you,” Castiel said, taking a cookie. “Ha! It’s shaped like a Christmas tree.”
“Well, you have as many as you want.”
Castiel smiled at her as she left her room. “I like it here; people are always pleased to see me.” He ate the cookie in two bites and immediately reached for another. “These are delicious.”
Dean grinned. “I’m guessing no one in your family is the cookie baking type.” He led the way back to the dining room, taking the plate with him.
“No. Michael is a fine enough cook, but he would deem these... frivolous. Sadly.”
“Oh, we’re all about the frivolous food in our family.” He grinned. “You know, on Christmas Day my parents spend all morning in the kitchen after we’ve unwrapped our presents, and they put together this enormous feast. And then my grandparents come over, and Bobby, and Jo and her mom come, and they always bring the eggnog… it’s loud and messy and chaotic... You know, awesome.”
Castiel was looking at him with wide, serious eyes.
“So if not food, what Christmas traditions do you have?” Dean asked.
“Oh… we just spend the day in quiet contemplation.”
“You mean you don’t do anything?”
“Well, we pray a lot.”
“No Christmas dinner? No presents?”
“No.”
Dean frowned. This just didn’t make any sense, especially considering what Reverend Delacroix had said on TV the other night. Was there one rule for his adoring public and another for his family? It didn’t seem logical to Dean. Either way, he hated the thought of Castiel spending a miserable Christmas with his creepy ass family.
“You know, you could always come here for Christmas. I mean, my mom loves having people over, especially if they appreciate her cooking.”
Cas smiled sadly. “That’s kind of you, but I’ll have to decline. It’s my duty to stay with my family, and I can’t imagine that they will look favorably on any deviation from our annual routine.”
“Well… that sucks.”
“I don’t mind; actually, it’s nice to escape from everything and remember the true meaning of Christmas. My uncle only does what is best for us as a family. He’s just trying to respect my father’s wishes, and it would be ungrateful of me to complain.”
Dean pulled a face, but didn’t say anything. He found it hard to believe that the ‘true meaning of Christmas’ meant sitting in silence in a cold chapel. In fact, hadn’t Castiel’s father said the exact opposite?
They worked in silence for a while. Dean struggled with History, but Castiel had taught him some neat mental association things to help him remember dates. Only Dean couldn’t quite focus this evening.
“Cas… I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
Dean moistened his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. He felt like it would be straying back onto dangerous turf to mention Castiel’s family, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. “When did you last talk to your dad?”
Castiel’s eyes grew a little wider, the only indication that he was surprised. “Why do you ask?”
“Because A- Anna said it had been well over a year.”
Castiel’s lifted his chin a little. “It is none of her concern. Nor yours.”
“Well, I was just wondering if you… I mean, have you seen any of your dad’s TV shows lately? Cause I caught one the other day, and… and he seemed like… well, he seemed surprisingly normal for a television preacher. You know, he was talking about how Christmas should be a celebration, and believing in God doesn’t mean that you couldn’t have fun, and… Well, I guess the guy didn’t follow through on the part where you should value your family, but do you really think that he’d be preaching one thing to the American people, and have a whole different set of rules for his own family?”
Castiel’s expression grew hard. “Dean, I really don’t think that is any of your business.”
“Well, I get that I’m probably overstepping my bounds here, but I… you’re my friend, okay? And personally I think your Uncle Zach is taking you for a ride. I mean, you said yourself that he’s the only one who talks to your dad… well, what if he isn’t? I mean, what if he’d not in contact with your dad at all, or he is, but he’s purposely going against what your dad wants? What if he’s just doing what he thinks is the right, Christian thing, and not… Cas, what if he’s intentionally stopping your dad from talking to you?”
“You don’t have the slightest idea of what you’re talking about,” Castiel said, his voice quietly dangerous. “I know that you think my family is weird, that I’m weird. I know you think it’s funny that I believe in God and that I don’t behave the way that you do.”
“Cas, that’s not what I -”
“ However, believe me when I say that you have no right to pass judgement on us. You do not have the slightest comprehension of who we are. Perhaps you think it’s ridiculous to want to dedicate your life to your faith.” He leaned forward so that his face was inches from Dean’s. “I do not understand many of the things you do. I do not care for many of the things you do. Yet I refrain from passing judgement on them and I wouldn’t dream of… of trying to convert you to my way of thinking, or passing censure on you. Please offer me the same courtesy.” He got to his feet. “I think I should leave now; I’ll show myself out.”
Dean was too shocked to respond. His mouth was dry and his hands were bunched into tight fists. He didn’t know why this kept happening. He didn’t know why Castiel was suddenly so on edge all the time. All he did know was that once again he’d managed to open his big mouth and mess everything up.
…
Dean wanted to call Castiel, but he didn’t know what the hell he was meant to say. He supposed he should apologize, but at the same time he didn’t want to lie to Castiel. The fact was, Dean wasn’t sorry for what he’d said. He knew Cas was smarter than Dean could ever hope to be, but the guy was being an idiot as far as his family was concerned. The way he just went along with whatever crap his uncle and brother told him to do, not even questioning it, when he deserved so much better. Castiel hadn’t even spoken to his dad in years and while the good reverend obviously wasn’t father of the year, Dean doubted very much that he was the one giving the orders for the Delacroix family’s Spartan lifestyle. He couldn’t take back what he said because he didn’t want Castiel to put up with the way things were anymore. Cas needed to realize that he was being manipulated, and if that meant being mad at Dean for a while then so be it.
At the same time, Dean missed the guy. He missed him, even though it had only been a matter of hours since they’d last seen each other, and he hated the idea of Castiel being angry at him. It made him restless and snappish, and he was starting to wonder whether it would be worth offering an apology he didn’t mean just to make things right again.
However, his dilemma was solved the next evening when Castiel paid him a visit.
Dean was in the front room watching A Charlie Brown Christmas on TV, when his dad stuck his head round the door. “Dean? You have a guest.”
Dean turned round, expecting it to be Jo, and saw Castiel standing awkwardly in the doorway, his expression unfathomable. “Cas!”
Castiel lowered his gaze. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“No, of course not.”
Castiel sat at the opposite and of the couch to Dean, and stared at his knees. “I can’t stay long,” he said. “I told my family I was going into town to buy candles.”
Dean sat through about ten minutes of silence after that before he lost patience. “It’s not that I’m not happy to see you Cas, but is there a reason you’re here?”
Castiel pressed his lips together, his fingers drumming on his knees. Finally, he looked up at Dean. “If… If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell another living soul?”
Dean turned down the volume on the TV. “Well… sure, Cas.”
Castiel took a deep breath. “First of all, I must apologize for the way I reacted to what you said yesterday. What you said… it made me uncomfortable, and I… I didn’t mean it. I know you were only trying to help. I shouldn’t have… it’s just that I have had rather a lot on my mind of late. It’s not your fault, it’s mine, and I need to…” He sighed. “The truth is that… that I’ve had doubts for a while now. About my family. My father hasn’t… You have to understand that he wasn’t always this distant. When I was little and my mother was still alive… we were a proper family. He was around, and me and Michael and Gabriel… we were happy.”
“Gabriel?”
“Oh, I never told you. He’s my other brother. The eldest. He left us years ago because he couldn’t put up with Zachariah anymore. He wanted me to go with him, but I was too… I was too scared. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Shit, Cas, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not important. The point is that I… that I don’t know what’s going on. Michael used to be… he used to be happy, but now he doesn’t even… I feel like he’s angry at our father. And I think my uncle is angry as well. I know he always disagreed slightly with my father on certain theological matters, but… I don’t know.” He pressed a hand over his mouth, like he was aware that he’d said too much.
“Hey.” Dean reached over and gave Castiel’s knee a little squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay.”
Castiel shook his head, his eyes troubled. “No, it’s not. I don’t know what to believe anymore, Dean. I don’t know what to think. I have no idea of how I can get in touch with my father, and I… I’m scared to question my uncle because… because what if I’m wrong? What if these suspicions are completely unjustified? My father decided to leave us with Zachariah after my mother died. He felt it was his duty to spread God’s word, and… and I think it hurt him to be around us. I think her death broke him in some way, and just became… buried in his work. Maybe he… I don’t know. I just don’t know what to think.”
Dean noticed that Castiel’s hands were shaking. He doubted whether the guy had ever even admitted having these thoughts to himself, let alone voiced them out loud. “It’s okay, Cas,” he repeated. “I got your back. You’ll figure this out. You just need to do what you think is right, not what your family tells you is right. Do what makes you happy.”
Castiel smiled sadly. “That’s easier said than done.” He sighed shakily. “Thank you, Dean. I… I appreciate it, truly. I… I don’t know what you’ve done to me.”
“What I’ve done?”
“Before you came along I never… I don’t know. You make me think differently, I suppose. I don’t know why, but I…” He laughed awkwardly. “I should go. I still need to buy candles.”
“You need a lift?”
“No, I can’t risk anyone seeing me with you. I don’t want my family to know I lied about my whereabouts. I can take the bus.”
Dean walked him to the door. Castiel shrugged his trenchcoat on and shoved his hands in the pockets. “Thank you, Dean,” he said softly. “For listening.”
“Well… sure, Cas. Any time. Hey, don’t you have anything warmer? It’s freezing out there.”
Castiel gave him a small smile. “I’m all right. It’s not far to the bus stop.”
“You sure I can’t drive you?”
“Yes. Thank you, Dean. Goodbye.”
Dean closed the door behind him, and wandered back into the front room. He stood at the window and watched Castiel walk away, his chest clenching a little at the sight of his friend’s bare neck, so vulnerable and exposed against the chill air.
Before he realized what he was doing, Dean had run out the front door after him, grabbing his navy blue wool scarf off the coat rack as he went. “Cas, hold up!”
Castiel turned around and waited for him to catch up. “Dean?”
“Here.” Dean held out the scarf. “Here, take it.”
Castiel frowned. “That’s yours.”
“It’s okay, I have another. Come on, Cas, you’re gonna freeze. I want you to have it.”
Castiel was still just staring at him, so Dean sighed impatiently and wrapped the scarf around his neck himself. He tied a loose knot with the ends, rearranging the collar of Castiel’s coat so that it sat right. “There,” he breathed. “Much better.”
He glanced up, and was surprised by how close they were. It made his heart jump a little. Castiel was still staring at him openly, guilelessly. Dean swallowed. Castiel blinked and stepped backwards, and Dean shook his head a little. “Keep it,” he said gruffly. “It looks good on you.”
Castiel smiled then. “Thank you, Dean. It’s really very kind of you. I wish I had something to give you, but we don’t really-”
“Cas, it’s cool, don’t sweat it. I don’t want anything. Just… happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Dean.”
Dean stood and watched Castiel walk away, and then he stood and watched the corner of the road his friend had disappeared around until he realized that he was shivering and went back inside.
A/N: Sorry it took a while- I found it really difficult to write about Christmas when it's not actually Christmas!
Chapter 7
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter - 6/?
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, sexual references
Spoilers - References to characters from seasons 1-6. Apart from that, it's completely AU.
December snuck up on Dean. Everything had been so weird and stressful that he hadn’t been keeping track, and then suddenly stores were being decorated for Christmas and Dean realized with dismay that he had to go gift shopping. He sucked at gift shopping. He didn’t think his mother had forgiven him yet for the Christmas Dean was twelve and he’d bought her a large crystal duck. Still, it meant that she’d at least made the effort to give each of her sons lists of suitable gift ideas ever since.
Christmas wasn’t the only thing bothering him: his friends had all been immersed in college applications for a while now. Jo had pretty much decided on NYU, Ash was finally off to MIT, Pam had deferred her place at UCA for a year to go traveling… Everyone was preparing to move on, to put Lawrence in their rear-view mirror. Everyone except Dean. His one comfort was that Castiel hadn’t mentioned college. He was a little surprised - Cas was a straight-A student and could probably get into any Ivy League school he wanted. Then again, there was Cas’s family. He’d made it very clear that being allowed to go to public school had been a pretty big concession, and Dean doubted whether the charming Uncle Zach would take kindly to his nephew heading off by himself. It sucked for Cas; if there was ever anyone suited to higher education it was him. Still, there was a horrible, selfish part of Dean that was pleased. If Castiel was going to be staying in Lawrence, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Having said that, things had been… different between the two of them lately. It could just be Dean’s imagination. Castiel hadn’t mentioned what had happened between Dean and Anna since that night, which Dean was thankful for. He hadn’t wanted his friend to think he was putting the moves on Anna or wanted to get with her. She was a beautiful girl, but he really couldn’t deal with the complications right now. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right somehow, her being Castiel’s cousin.
Dean had continued to study with Cas, careful not to mention the subject of the other boy’s family. Dean hoped they were okay. He thought they were okay, only there was a strange distance between them that hadn’t been there before. It bothered him, not least because he had the distinct impression that Castiel was sad about something. Dean wanted to ask what was wrong, but he had the feeling that Cas would resent the intrusion.
It was weird; Dean had never given so much thought to a friendship before. He’d never worried so much about what a friend thought of him or how he could make things better. Then again, he’d never had a friend to whom he owed his life.
…
Christmas in the Winchester household was always something of an event. It was all down to John, really. Dean was the first to admit that his father was quite possibly the biggest Christmas geek that ever existed. As soon as the first day of December rolled around, John would start getting boxes down from the attic, and the whole family would be enlisted in the mission to turn the house into a regular Santa’s grotto.
When he’d been little, Dean had found it all enchanting. Then when he’d hit his teens, it had been excruciatingly embarrassing. Now, however, he’d reached an age where he could find his father’s child-like enthusiasm kind of endearing. It was nice that John wanted to make things special for them all, and Dean was feeling distinctly nostalgic for his earlier years when everything was still fresh and clean for him. He felt like he really wanted to enjoy this Christmas for a change. He didn’t even mind the hideous singing Father Christmas his dad always insisted on putting in the front hall which rocked from side to side and played the most sinister rendition of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ ever, whenever anyone was foolish enough to walk too close to it. Dean, Sam and Mary referred to it as the ‘anti-Claus’. John insisted that it was festive.
“Okay, family, listen up,” he announced over breakfast on the first Saturday of the month. “We all know what day it is: Christmas Tree Day. Now, at eleven-hundred hours, we’re going to go pick out the perfect tree. At thirteen-hundred hours we’ll bring it home and get it in the house. We’ll have a lunch break after that, and Mary? How about some of your special Christmas cookies? That way the house will smell like pine and gingerbread. At seventeen-hundred hours we’ll all gather in the front room to decorate the tree. Then after dinner, Dean and I will go out to put up the outside lights on the house. I bought some new ones, so if that damn Mr Costello across the street thinks he’s going to outdo me this year, he’s got another thing coming. You know, I never thought I’d enjoy having a Christmas nemesis, but I do. Oh, I do.” He laughed, a little darkly.
Dean wondered whether anyone else’s parents considered preparing for the holidays as a military operation.
“Dad, do we all have to go get the tree?” Sam whined. “Seriously? Cause I’ve got a book report to finish.”
“Sam, Christmas is the one time of year when we all do things together as a family,” John replied. “Come on, you used to love picking out the tree! I know that it’s not cool to hang out with your family. I know you’d much rather be… poking your friends on Face Space or whatever, but I’m sure you can spare an hour or so to spend some quality time with us.”
Sam groaned and banged his head down on the table, and Dean burst out laughing. “Dad… are you talking about Facebook?”
John scowled half-heartedly. “Well, I don’t know what it is you people do on there. I don’t see why you can’t just call each other on the telephone. It worked just fine for us, didn’t it, Mary?”
Dean rolled his eyes; his father was the biggest technophobe he’d ever met. He still remembered the time that John had texted him ‘9317 7342 25 958 9157 42 75 4227 958#’ because he’d somehow managed to put the number lock on on his phone. “Yeah, Dad, and whatever happened to the abacus as well?”
Sam snickered. “Yeah, and the horse and carriage. It was good enough back in your day, right Dad?”
“I don’t have to put up with this abuse,” John grumbled, jamming his Santa hat back on his head and stalking out of the kitchen.
…
Dean was looking forward to school breaking up. Thanks to Castiel, he wasn’t completely failing any of his classes anymore, but he was still only hanging on by a thread and he could use a break. Not that he expected to get that much time for relaxation: he’d already agreed to some extra hours at the garage, and Castiel had given him a long list of things to study up on over the holidays. Still, he wouldn’t actually have to be in school, and that was something. No more being around other people and having to put on an act. No more reminders that this was the end of the line for him. No more stupid counselling sessions.
Having said that, Dean didn’t hate his sessions with Mr Shurley as much as he’d thought he would. Sure, the guy was pretty awful at his job, but Dean didn’t really care. In fact, he was grateful - the last thing he wanted was someone trying to get him to talk about his feelings. Instead, the sessions were a pleasant weekly break from classes. Chuck was an okay guy, really. In fact, he seemed grateful for Dean’s insistence that they don’t try to discuss personal matters. It turned out that Dean’s assumption that Chuck wasn’t really into his job had been right - apparently he just needed the money while he got his writing career off the ground.
“So what is it you’re writing, exactly?” Dean asked on their last session of the semester.
“Oh… it’s a fantasy series. It’s about two brothers who drive around America fighting the supernatural. The first one’s been published and it’s doing pretty well, but, you know, not earning me enough to get me out of this hell hole just yet.” Chuck laughed nervously and popped a couple of aspirin. “The second one should be out next month.”
Dean nodded. “Sounds cool, I love that kind of stuff. I’m the biggest horror fan.”
“Oh, me too! I’m using lots of urban legend stuff in the books, you know.”
Dean laughed. “Well, I guess you live in the right place for that. Lots of famous paranormal shit in Lawrence.”
“You mean Stull Cemetery? Yeah, I’m thinking of doing something with that in the future.”
“And have you seen Carnival of Souls? They filmed the bridge scene here.”
“No kidding? I love that movie!”
“Yeah, I mean they demolished the actual bridge, but you can still-” The bell rang for lunch. “Well, Chuck, I’d love to stay and chat, but it’s pizza day today. Hey, have a good Christmas.”
Dean was surprised to see Castiel waiting for him outside the councillor’s office. He hadn’t seen much of his friend outside of their study sessions, and he was starting to feel like Castiel had been avoiding him.
The other boy gave him a small smile. “I was passing on my way to the cafeteria and I remembered you had an appointment today. May I have lunch with you?”
Dean laughed. “Dude, you don’t have to wait for an invitation!” He slung an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Just relax, okay? It’s good to see you. Now come on, it’s pizza day today - I don’t wanna be late or all the good stuff’ll be gone.”
Castiel almost laughed. Dean wanted to ask him if they were okay, but couldn’t think of any way of doing it which wouldn’t make him sound like a total girl. It was bad enough that he cared this much without Cas knowing he cared.
They passed Lisa and some other cheerleaders on the way into the cafeteria. Lisa said hi to Dean, and her friends immediately collapsed into fits of giggles. Dean scowled; he hated when girls did that.
“If you want to have lunch with… with her, it’s all right,” Castiel said quietly.
“What? Why the hell would I want to do that? Cas, Lisa and I aren’t… I mean, we’re not together. We just hook up occasionally.”
“Hook up?”
“Yeah. You know, have sex. But that’s it; neither of us wants anything more.”
“Oh!” Castiel looked a little flustered. “I see.”
Dean hid a smile; Castiel was a total maiden aunt sometimes. “Lots and lots of sex,” Dean teased, earning himself a disapproving look from one of the lunch ladies. “In lots of different positions, Cas. And she has these leather knee-high boots, and sometimes she’ll keep them on when we do it.” He glanced back at his friend, amused. He’d only been trying to see exactly how embarrassed he could make the guy, but he was surprised by the look on Castiel’s face. He looked like he was about to pass out or something. “Hey… you okay, Cas?”
Castiel looked up at him, then immediately turned his eyes away again. “Yes. That is, I… I forgot that… I’m not hungry.” With that he turned and marched out of the dining hall.
“Cas, wait up! What’s wrong?”
Someone grabbed Dean’s arm, and he turned to see Pam at his side. “Dean, what’s going on? Is he okay?”
“How the hell should I know? He was fine a minute ago! I swear, that guy needs some kind of psych evaluation or something - he’s getting weirder by the day.” Dean was starting to feel a little pissed off now.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing! Why do you always assume that I did something? We were just talking about Lisa, and I started joking around about having sex with her, and the next thing I know he’s having some kind of… of episode!”
Pam punched him hard on the arm. “Dean, you’re such a fucking jerk sometimes!”
“Ow! What the hell? I didn’t do anything! Pam! I didn’t do anything!”
…
A week before Christmas, Dean finally had the opportunity to find out a little more about Castiel’s father, the renowned Reverend Manuel Delacroix.
Things with Castiel had continued to be weird. The other guy hadn’t mentioned what had happened in the cafeteria, and clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. Still, Dean knew that he’d screwed up again somehow. He’d alienated Castiel just when things were starting to get better between them. The trouble was that he still didn’t fully understand what he’d done wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have teased the guy about sex. It hadn’t been fair of him, not when he knew Cas wasn’t exactly experienced in that department. Still, he’d horsed around like that with his other male friends and it had been taken as a joke - how was he supposed to know the rules were different with Cas?
Because the rules always had been different where Castiel was concerned. Dean had known it, right from the start. Castiel wasn’t like any of his other friends. So why did Dean continue to do this? Why did he keep opening his mouth and saying things that were just downright careless? Dean hated himself a little more for that. Every time something good came along, he screwed it up. Every time a decent person took an interest in him, he pushed them away. He knew perfectly well that Castiel was far too good to be his friend. Yet that same selfish part of Dean that didn’t want Cas to go to college couldn’t bear to let him go without a fight.
Dean had been absent-mindedly flipping through TV channels, trying to figure out how he was going to fix things this time, when the name ‘Delacroix’ made him pause with the remote. At first he thought it was just his imagination seeing as he was worried about Cas, but he went back a couple of channels and found himself watching one of the Christian stations he usually avoided like the plague.
He was immediately drawn in by the man on the screen. The script at the top of the screen told him that he was indeed watching the esteemed Reverend Manuel Delacroix, Cas’s father. Dean felt his stomach do a weird little flip-flop, and he leaned forward in his seat. The man looked to be in his mid- to late- fifties, and he was shorter and fairer than Castiel. Facially he looked more like Michael, but Dean noticed that he had Castiel’s startlingly blue eyes.
“At this time of year,” the Reverend was saying, “everyone seems to be getting caught up in commercialism, don’t they?” Dean rolled his eyes - another lecture on how being religious meant not having any fun. Not that he was surprised after meeting the rest of Cas’s family. But then Manuel Delacroix grinned. “And I don’t think that has to be a bad thing. Christmas should be a celebration. It’s a time when we are put under pressure to think of our loved ones, to choose gifts for them that they will enjoy, to cook food for them, to spend time with them. Personally, I can think of no better way to celebrate the arrival of Christ on Earth. Christmas forces us to make an effort, to think of others and step outside of our routine. Don’t resist it. Don’t think of it as a chore. A wonderful way to honor the birth of Christ is by taking the opportunity to enjoy yourselves and give joy to others. Remember that-”
Dean switched off the TV. Well, he hadn’t been expecting that. There was something affable and welcoming about the guy, and Dean could kind of tell why he was such a big hit. Okay, so the Reverend had obviously been neglecting his own family, but it wasn’t like he was spouting any of the hateful, bigoted crap that Dean had heard from other celebrity priests. If Dean was in any way religious, he thought he could get on board with the guy’s way of thinking. Which begged the question of why the hell the rest of Castiel’s family were so cold and severe, and why Cas and Anna were so tightly reined in. Dean frowned. There was definitely something weird going on.
…
In the end, Dean decided to take the high road - that evening, he apologized to Castiel. He did it via a text message, but he reasoned that when it came to him being less of a dick, baby steps were better than none at all.
CAS. SRY ABOUT THE OTHER DAY. IT WAS A DICK MOVE. WE STILL OK 4 THURS?
Within ten minutes, he’d had a reply.
THERE’S NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE, DEAN. I SHOULD NOT HAVE REACTED IN THE WAY THAT I DID. IT WAS FOOLISH OF ME. PLEASE DON’T THINK ANY MORE OF IT. YES, THURSDAY IS STILL GOOD FOR ME. CASTIEL.
The message made Dean smile. Castiel seemed to be physically incapable of not using perfect grammar in text messages. He was also relieved - clearly Cas bore no hard feelings about what had happened and was keen to forget the whole thing, which was just fine by Dean. Things were all right between them, and they would study together on Thursday, and everything would be okay.
He went down to the kitchen, feeling infinitely lighter at heart. Mary was sat at the kitchen table reading one of her crime novels, and she jumped when she realized Dean was in the room.
“Oh! God, Dean, I have to stop reading these things.”
Dean laughed and helped himself to a bowl of cereal. He hadn’t felt like eating much at dinner and suddenly realized that he was starving.
“You seem very happy tonight,” his mother mused. “You were like a bear with a sore head earlier, we couldn’t get two words out of you.”
Dean looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry about that. I’m just, you know… it’s been hard work catching up at school. I’m kinda tired.”
Mary arched an eyebrow. “Mm-hm. So when do we get to meet her?”
“Who?”
Mary’s face was a mask of innocence. “Oh… no one. I just hope she’s worth all the stress.”
Dean was confused. Surely his mom wasn’t talking about Lisa? He hadn’t even spoken to the girl in a week, and he was fairly sure he hadn’t mentioned her to anyone in his family. Why would he? Sometimes his mother could be a very strange woman.
“I have some good news,” Mary said, pulling Dean out of his reverie. “We’re finally going to meet Uncle Bobby’s new lady friend.”
“No shi- No way!” Dean replied. “When?”
“I’ve persuaded him to invite her over for dinner on Christmas Eve. I promised that we’d all be on our best behavior.”
“So, what did you find out?” Dean asked through a mouth of cereal. He and John and both cautiously attempted to get Bobby to talk about his mystery date at the garage, but they hadn’t gotten anywhere.
Mary smiled. “Her name’s Jody, she works in law enforcement, she got divorced five years ago and she has a son. She grew up in North Dakota, she likes Mexican food, and she has introduced Bobby to Fringe, which is apparently very good and I should watch it.”
Dean nodded appreciatively. “You’re good.”
Mary shrugged. “I’m a journalist.”
…
Dean had to stop off at the garage on Thursday, and Castiel had agreed to take the bus and meet Dean back at the Winchester’s house. Dean had hoped to beat him there but the traffic had been bad, and Castiel was already sitting at the dining room table when Dean got home. Talking with Sam.
“This is so awesome!” Sam was enthusing. “I mean, I’ve never met anyone who’s even heard of Gustav Meyrink, let alone read anything by him! What did you think of The Angel at the West Window?”
Castiel smiled softly, and for some reason it annoyed Dean. “I enjoyed it very much. I recently finished The Golem. Have you read it? I think you’d enjoy it; it’s a quite brilliant metaphor for the predicament of the Jews in nineteenth-century Europe. Very bleak.”
Dean cleared his throat loudly. “Hey, Green-Eggs-And-Sam, don’t you have a date with your World of Warcraft buddies? It’s just that Cas and I have actual work to do.”
Sam scowled. “God, Dean, you’re such a jerk.” He stomped out of the room, and Dean felt a stab of guilt. He didn’t know why he’d snapped at the kid like that.
“I did come here to see you, you know,” Castiel said. He was looking at Dean gently, and it was more than a little discomforting.
“Yeah, I… I know.”
“I enjoy your company, Dean. Very much.”
Dean laughed awkwardly. “Good to know, Cas. Come on, let’s go get some snacks - if we’re gonna be doing History, I’m gonna need some serious fuel.”
Castiel looked a little shocked by the extent of Christmas cheer that surrounded him. Dean couldn’t really blame him - he didn’t suppose that many families decided to turn their house into a full-on grotto every December. He smiled apologetically. “My parents get a little… holiday obsessed. It’s kinda lame, but we do it every year, and it’s pretty fun once you get into it.”
Castiel smiled at him. “I think it’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s… is that a singing Santa Claus?”
Dean quickly ushered his friend into the kitchen.
Mary smiled warmly when she saw Castiel. “Hello, sweetheart. Would you like a gingerbread cookie? Dean’s father will end up eating them all otherwise.” She held out a plate.
“Thank you,” Castiel said, taking a cookie. “Ha! It’s shaped like a Christmas tree.”
“Well, you have as many as you want.”
Castiel smiled at her as she left her room. “I like it here; people are always pleased to see me.” He ate the cookie in two bites and immediately reached for another. “These are delicious.”
Dean grinned. “I’m guessing no one in your family is the cookie baking type.” He led the way back to the dining room, taking the plate with him.
“No. Michael is a fine enough cook, but he would deem these... frivolous. Sadly.”
“Oh, we’re all about the frivolous food in our family.” He grinned. “You know, on Christmas Day my parents spend all morning in the kitchen after we’ve unwrapped our presents, and they put together this enormous feast. And then my grandparents come over, and Bobby, and Jo and her mom come, and they always bring the eggnog… it’s loud and messy and chaotic... You know, awesome.”
Castiel was looking at him with wide, serious eyes.
“So if not food, what Christmas traditions do you have?” Dean asked.
“Oh… we just spend the day in quiet contemplation.”
“You mean you don’t do anything?”
“Well, we pray a lot.”
“No Christmas dinner? No presents?”
“No.”
Dean frowned. This just didn’t make any sense, especially considering what Reverend Delacroix had said on TV the other night. Was there one rule for his adoring public and another for his family? It didn’t seem logical to Dean. Either way, he hated the thought of Castiel spending a miserable Christmas with his creepy ass family.
“You know, you could always come here for Christmas. I mean, my mom loves having people over, especially if they appreciate her cooking.”
Cas smiled sadly. “That’s kind of you, but I’ll have to decline. It’s my duty to stay with my family, and I can’t imagine that they will look favorably on any deviation from our annual routine.”
“Well… that sucks.”
“I don’t mind; actually, it’s nice to escape from everything and remember the true meaning of Christmas. My uncle only does what is best for us as a family. He’s just trying to respect my father’s wishes, and it would be ungrateful of me to complain.”
Dean pulled a face, but didn’t say anything. He found it hard to believe that the ‘true meaning of Christmas’ meant sitting in silence in a cold chapel. In fact, hadn’t Castiel’s father said the exact opposite?
They worked in silence for a while. Dean struggled with History, but Castiel had taught him some neat mental association things to help him remember dates. Only Dean couldn’t quite focus this evening.
“Cas… I was wondering…”
“Yes?”
Dean moistened his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. He felt like it would be straying back onto dangerous turf to mention Castiel’s family, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. “When did you last talk to your dad?”
Castiel’s eyes grew a little wider, the only indication that he was surprised. “Why do you ask?”
“Because A- Anna said it had been well over a year.”
Castiel’s lifted his chin a little. “It is none of her concern. Nor yours.”
“Well, I was just wondering if you… I mean, have you seen any of your dad’s TV shows lately? Cause I caught one the other day, and… and he seemed like… well, he seemed surprisingly normal for a television preacher. You know, he was talking about how Christmas should be a celebration, and believing in God doesn’t mean that you couldn’t have fun, and… Well, I guess the guy didn’t follow through on the part where you should value your family, but do you really think that he’d be preaching one thing to the American people, and have a whole different set of rules for his own family?”
Castiel’s expression grew hard. “Dean, I really don’t think that is any of your business.”
“Well, I get that I’m probably overstepping my bounds here, but I… you’re my friend, okay? And personally I think your Uncle Zach is taking you for a ride. I mean, you said yourself that he’s the only one who talks to your dad… well, what if he isn’t? I mean, what if he’d not in contact with your dad at all, or he is, but he’s purposely going against what your dad wants? What if he’s just doing what he thinks is the right, Christian thing, and not… Cas, what if he’s intentionally stopping your dad from talking to you?”
“You don’t have the slightest idea of what you’re talking about,” Castiel said, his voice quietly dangerous. “I know that you think my family is weird, that I’m weird. I know you think it’s funny that I believe in God and that I don’t behave the way that you do.”
“Cas, that’s not what I -”
“ However, believe me when I say that you have no right to pass judgement on us. You do not have the slightest comprehension of who we are. Perhaps you think it’s ridiculous to want to dedicate your life to your faith.” He leaned forward so that his face was inches from Dean’s. “I do not understand many of the things you do. I do not care for many of the things you do. Yet I refrain from passing judgement on them and I wouldn’t dream of… of trying to convert you to my way of thinking, or passing censure on you. Please offer me the same courtesy.” He got to his feet. “I think I should leave now; I’ll show myself out.”
Dean was too shocked to respond. His mouth was dry and his hands were bunched into tight fists. He didn’t know why this kept happening. He didn’t know why Castiel was suddenly so on edge all the time. All he did know was that once again he’d managed to open his big mouth and mess everything up.
…
Dean wanted to call Castiel, but he didn’t know what the hell he was meant to say. He supposed he should apologize, but at the same time he didn’t want to lie to Castiel. The fact was, Dean wasn’t sorry for what he’d said. He knew Cas was smarter than Dean could ever hope to be, but the guy was being an idiot as far as his family was concerned. The way he just went along with whatever crap his uncle and brother told him to do, not even questioning it, when he deserved so much better. Castiel hadn’t even spoken to his dad in years and while the good reverend obviously wasn’t father of the year, Dean doubted very much that he was the one giving the orders for the Delacroix family’s Spartan lifestyle. He couldn’t take back what he said because he didn’t want Castiel to put up with the way things were anymore. Cas needed to realize that he was being manipulated, and if that meant being mad at Dean for a while then so be it.
At the same time, Dean missed the guy. He missed him, even though it had only been a matter of hours since they’d last seen each other, and he hated the idea of Castiel being angry at him. It made him restless and snappish, and he was starting to wonder whether it would be worth offering an apology he didn’t mean just to make things right again.
However, his dilemma was solved the next evening when Castiel paid him a visit.
Dean was in the front room watching A Charlie Brown Christmas on TV, when his dad stuck his head round the door. “Dean? You have a guest.”
Dean turned round, expecting it to be Jo, and saw Castiel standing awkwardly in the doorway, his expression unfathomable. “Cas!”
Castiel lowered his gaze. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
“No, of course not.”
Castiel sat at the opposite and of the couch to Dean, and stared at his knees. “I can’t stay long,” he said. “I told my family I was going into town to buy candles.”
Dean sat through about ten minutes of silence after that before he lost patience. “It’s not that I’m not happy to see you Cas, but is there a reason you’re here?”
Castiel pressed his lips together, his fingers drumming on his knees. Finally, he looked up at Dean. “If… If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell another living soul?”
Dean turned down the volume on the TV. “Well… sure, Cas.”
Castiel took a deep breath. “First of all, I must apologize for the way I reacted to what you said yesterday. What you said… it made me uncomfortable, and I… I didn’t mean it. I know you were only trying to help. I shouldn’t have… it’s just that I have had rather a lot on my mind of late. It’s not your fault, it’s mine, and I need to…” He sighed. “The truth is that… that I’ve had doubts for a while now. About my family. My father hasn’t… You have to understand that he wasn’t always this distant. When I was little and my mother was still alive… we were a proper family. He was around, and me and Michael and Gabriel… we were happy.”
“Gabriel?”
“Oh, I never told you. He’s my other brother. The eldest. He left us years ago because he couldn’t put up with Zachariah anymore. He wanted me to go with him, but I was too… I was too scared. I haven’t seen him since.”
“Shit, Cas, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not important. The point is that I… that I don’t know what’s going on. Michael used to be… he used to be happy, but now he doesn’t even… I feel like he’s angry at our father. And I think my uncle is angry as well. I know he always disagreed slightly with my father on certain theological matters, but… I don’t know.” He pressed a hand over his mouth, like he was aware that he’d said too much.
“Hey.” Dean reached over and gave Castiel’s knee a little squeeze. “Hey, it’s okay.”
Castiel shook his head, his eyes troubled. “No, it’s not. I don’t know what to believe anymore, Dean. I don’t know what to think. I have no idea of how I can get in touch with my father, and I… I’m scared to question my uncle because… because what if I’m wrong? What if these suspicions are completely unjustified? My father decided to leave us with Zachariah after my mother died. He felt it was his duty to spread God’s word, and… and I think it hurt him to be around us. I think her death broke him in some way, and just became… buried in his work. Maybe he… I don’t know. I just don’t know what to think.”
Dean noticed that Castiel’s hands were shaking. He doubted whether the guy had ever even admitted having these thoughts to himself, let alone voiced them out loud. “It’s okay, Cas,” he repeated. “I got your back. You’ll figure this out. You just need to do what you think is right, not what your family tells you is right. Do what makes you happy.”
Castiel smiled sadly. “That’s easier said than done.” He sighed shakily. “Thank you, Dean. I… I appreciate it, truly. I… I don’t know what you’ve done to me.”
“What I’ve done?”
“Before you came along I never… I don’t know. You make me think differently, I suppose. I don’t know why, but I…” He laughed awkwardly. “I should go. I still need to buy candles.”
“You need a lift?”
“No, I can’t risk anyone seeing me with you. I don’t want my family to know I lied about my whereabouts. I can take the bus.”
Dean walked him to the door. Castiel shrugged his trenchcoat on and shoved his hands in the pockets. “Thank you, Dean,” he said softly. “For listening.”
“Well… sure, Cas. Any time. Hey, don’t you have anything warmer? It’s freezing out there.”
Castiel gave him a small smile. “I’m all right. It’s not far to the bus stop.”
“You sure I can’t drive you?”
“Yes. Thank you, Dean. Goodbye.”
Dean closed the door behind him, and wandered back into the front room. He stood at the window and watched Castiel walk away, his chest clenching a little at the sight of his friend’s bare neck, so vulnerable and exposed against the chill air.
Before he realized what he was doing, Dean had run out the front door after him, grabbing his navy blue wool scarf off the coat rack as he went. “Cas, hold up!”
Castiel turned around and waited for him to catch up. “Dean?”
“Here.” Dean held out the scarf. “Here, take it.”
Castiel frowned. “That’s yours.”
“It’s okay, I have another. Come on, Cas, you’re gonna freeze. I want you to have it.”
Castiel was still just staring at him, so Dean sighed impatiently and wrapped the scarf around his neck himself. He tied a loose knot with the ends, rearranging the collar of Castiel’s coat so that it sat right. “There,” he breathed. “Much better.”
He glanced up, and was surprised by how close they were. It made his heart jump a little. Castiel was still staring at him openly, guilelessly. Dean swallowed. Castiel blinked and stepped backwards, and Dean shook his head a little. “Keep it,” he said gruffly. “It looks good on you.”
Castiel smiled then. “Thank you, Dean. It’s really very kind of you. I wish I had something to give you, but we don’t really-”
“Cas, it’s cool, don’t sweat it. I don’t want anything. Just… happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Dean.”
Dean stood and watched Castiel walk away, and then he stood and watched the corner of the road his friend had disappeared around until he realized that he was shivering and went back inside.
A/N: Sorry it took a while- I found it really difficult to write about Christmas when it's not actually Christmas!
Chapter 7
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5