Fic: Don't Ever Look Back 6/9 (Supernatural; Dean/Castiel, HS AU, Explicit)
Title: Don't Ever Look Back
Author: misachan
Artist: slinkymilinky (Link to Art Master Post)
Word Count: 3900
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Anna, Sam, Uriel, Zachariah
Warnings: Violence (including violence between family members), drug use (nothing stronger than pot), underage drinking (nothing harder than beer), sex between an 18 and 17-year-old, sexuality angst
Summary: Another day, another town; when their bounty hunter father enrolls he and Sam in yet another school Dean thinks this will just be another town he'll forget five minutes after he leaves it. Things get more interesting when Sam befriends a classmate of Dean's and the lonely boy with the strange name and stranger family slowly gets under Dean's skin. Their new friendship gets complicated when it becomes clear that Castiel's brothers aren't just strange, they're dangerous, and the secrets they keep and the sins they bury have a lot to do with Dean. It would all be bad enough even without Dean starting to worry that maybe friendship isn't all he wants.
A Dean/Castiel high school love story with fist fights, movie nights, make outs, broken hearts, hospital vigils and a steamed up hotel shower.
It took a few days, but it seemed to Dean like Castiel had finally...well, if not quite forgiven Dean for befriending his sister and for not magically know who she was, at least it seemed like he was willing to look past it as long as Dean followed the unspoken agreement to never, ever speak about it. And as much as Dean really wanted Cas to patch things up with Anna he liked Cas not giving him the silent treatment even more, so he'd reluctantly gone along with that.
What Dean didn't get is why Cas insisted on going back to school the day after the funeral. He would have thought the only good thing about the whole mess was that it should have been a get out of school free card, but Cas refused to take advantage of it. It was almost perverse.
And of course if Cas didn't cut, Dean couldn't either even though it was at the point where the only reason he wasn't outright failing everything was because Castiel refused to let him. Anyway, the threat of being kicked out of yet another school wasn't the reason Dean dragged himself into class every morning - while most of their classmates had managed to be surprisingly decent about the whole, "Hey, Castiel, heard your brother went nuts and got himself killed" thing, there were always that handful of people who just had be be dicks about everything. He would just be one lousy friend if he left Cas to deal with that all on his own.
He and Cas were behind the school sharing a well deserved smoke after showing Gordon Walker and his Jesus-freak sidekick why they should keep their smart mouths shut and really, winding down with a good friend after a fight was all Dean wanted out of life. "We should really thank those two some day," he said, the post-fight rush combining with the joint to make him comfortably mellow.
"How so?"
"Well, think about it. Them picking on Sam that day was how you and Sam met, and you hanging out with Sam was how me and you met. If it hadn't been for them being giant dicks to everyone in their path the two of us probably wouldn't have ever been friends. It was dumb luck you just happened to stumble over them."
Castiel was quiet for a few long moments. "I caught the two of them bullying Sam because I'd been following him around for two days."
Maybe the weed was stronger than Dean had given it credit for. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"What I said. I'd been following Sam for days by then. I knew Walker and Kubrick made a sport of picking on the new students, so I kept an eye on Sam to intercept them."
"That's...I mean, that was cool of you. Thanks for looking out for Sam like that."
Castiel looked away. "My motives weren't exactly pure, Dean."
"I'm lost, Cas."
Castiel gave him a look then, the one he used when he knew Dean had intentionally half-assed his homework so he would have to fix it. "I followed Sam all that time because I knew he was your brother."
Dean frowned. "I'm still not getting you," he said, although a nagging little voice was telling him Oh yes you do.
"I wanted an excuse to talk to you. I thought...." Dean could see color creep up over his cheeks and redden his ears. "I thought if I befriended Sam you might be better predisposed toward me."
"Dude, we're in the same crappy class. You could talk to me any time."
"I tried. I did I just..." He shook his head. "I could never make you hear me." He took a deep breath. "I've never met anyone like you. From that very first day I wanted to find a way for you to hear me."
"Dude, you're high," Dean said, trying to laugh off the anxiety clawing him apart. There were only so many places this could be going.
"I am not." Even though his current haze of denial Dean knew that was true. Less than half a joint was nowhere near enough to get Cas high, and anyway, he knew full well Cas on a high was a Cas who
interpreted Scripture off the top of his head or got enthusiastic about debunking historical myths. "I'm not. I've been trying work up to this for a very long time. I was afraid there would be repercussions but I don't care about them anymore."
"Repercussions for what?"
As if that was his cue Castiel stood up, and in the back of his mind Dean knew what was about to happen. When Cas hesitated for a split-second, his nerves getting the better of him after all, Dean knew that was his chance, he needed to stop this now.
But his body wouldn't listen to him. Castiel finally got his courage back and kissed Dean, pressing him against the wall, his mouth hot and wet and open, sending Dean careening back into that dream that had seemed absolutely impossible only a few weeks before. For a handful of breaths Dean even kissed him back, his body already reacting to way Cas was pressed against it.
Then panic sank its hooks into Dean and he pushed Castiel away, harder than he'd actually meant to. "What the hell was that, Cas?" he said, working hard to keep his voice even. It was bad enough dealing with the paranoid thought that Castiel somehow knew about that dream Dean had tried so hard to push away and was mocking him.
Dean didn't think he'd ever seen anyone look so confused. "I...should I have asked first? I will next time."
"There's not gonna be a next time. You hear me? That is never going to happen again."
Dean would hear the little break in Castiel's voice in his dreams for a long time. "Did I do it that badly?"
"That's not what...look, Cas, I'm just not like that, okay?"
He saw that wall go down behind Castiel's eyes. "Like what?" he said, the words coming out in a low snarl. "Like me?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean? Explain it to me."
Dean let out a sigh, desperate to find a way out. "Look, Cas, it's no big deal. It's just something that happened, we can just forget about it."
"I don't want to forget about it. I...." Dean saw something in him crumble. "I don't understand. You don't socialize with anyone you don't have a sexual interest in, aside from Sam."
"That's not true," Dean insisted, although when he reached back for counterexamples to prove Castiel wrong he couldn't find any.
"It is, though. I thought...you let me sleep by your bed," he said, hurt and confusion raw in his voice. "You've broken dates in favor of being with me."
"That doesn't mean...look, Cas, we're friends but that's it. Okay?"
Castiel nodded like he was in a daze. "Of course." He stumbled backward a few steps, his face flushed bright red. When Dean reached out on instinct to steady him Castiel jerked away. "Don't touch me."
"Cas, we're gonna be cool, right?"
He didn't at all like the way Castiel's lips twisted before we spoke. "Of course. As you said, this means nothing. No big deal." Then he stalked away.
Dean knew he should go after Cas, patch this up right away, but he couldn't bring himself to follow.
***
Dean had just decided to cut his losses and blow off the rest of the day when the text alert alert went off on his phone.
SAM: what did you do?
Dean sighed.
DEAN: ?
A few seconds the phone rang, and Dean didn't even have to glance at the screen to know it was Sam. "Yeah, Sam?"
"What did you do, Dean?"
"I didn't do anything."
"Cas wasn't at lunch and he's acting all weird. Did you two have a fight?"
"Dude, seriously? We're not thirteen-year-old girls."
Sam was quiet for a few moments. "He looked like he'd been crying."
Dean winced. "He's still upset about his brother. You know that."
"Yeah, I guess." Dean could almost see that bitchface Sam was so good at over the phone. "If you did do something, you'd better fix it." Then Sam hung up before Dean could say another word in his own defense.
Dean felt proud of himself for lasting almost the whole day before sending Castiel a text.
DEAN: U ok?
The answer came almost immediately.
CAS: Yes.
Well, that was helpful. Dean frowned at his phone for a second, then decided to try again.
DEAN: We cool?
That one Cas didn't answer. Dean told himself that silence had absolutely nothing to do with why he was up staring at the ceiling the entire night.
***
This went on for three days, long enough that he was even tempted to call Anna for advice, and only the absolute mortification of having to say "So yeah, your brother made a pass at me and I kind of freaked. How do I fix that?" held him back.
Then out of the blue one morning Castiel texted him.
CAS: I have something I need to tell you.
DEAN: ?
CAS: We should meet.
DEAN: Cant say it now?
CAS: No. It would be more secure face-to-face.
So that was weird, but Dean wasn't in any mood to argue.
DEAN: K. When?
CAS: Whenever would be conveient for you.
CAS: *convenient
Dean shook his head.
DEAN: Did u fix ur spelling?
CAS: Not the point. Meet at lunch behind the school.
CAS: Unless that would make you uncomfortable.
Dean didn't know how how Castiel could manage to pack so much passive aggression into one text.
DEAN: K. Ltr.
When history class rolled around Dean was tempted to cut, the way he usually did, but Castiel had told him to meet him at lunch, not during class. Cas was certainly cutting, though, and for a second Dean was tempted to just say fuck it and go join him, go find out what Cas had to tell him and get this stupid argument over and done with.
At the last second Dean decided to stay, telling himself that Cas wanted it that way.
That decision would show up in his dreams for a long time, too.
***
Castiel leaned against the back wall of the school, his foot tapping a neurotic pattern against the brickwork. He knew it would have been wiser to do this during history class, they both cut it so often their disappearance wouldn't be noticed, but he also knew it would take the whole morning for him to build up his courage. He was still so mortified over what had happened that every time he thought about how Dean had looked at him after that ill-advised kiss, remembered the sheer disgust in his eyes, Castiel felt bile rise up into his throat. He knew he would have to get past that - the thought of losing Dean's friendship entirely wasn't even something he could properly contemplate - but he just wasn't capable of it yet.
Unfortunately, this just wasn't something that could wait for that.
He heard footsteps approaching from around the corner and felt hope burn in his chest. Maybe Dean had decided to skip history, too. Castiel hadn't noticed how vital this time with Dean had been to his ability to drag himself through the day until he'd managed to poison it.
So when Zachariah came around that corner Castiel didn't think he could possibly have been more surprised. "So," he said, smiling that fake smile he was so good at as he looked around like a realtor appraising a house, "I take it this is why your grades have been slipping lately."
Castiel frowned. "My grades are fine," he said, because even if they were a 3.9 instead of a 4.0 this quarter he didn't think that was anything to complain about. "What are you doing here?"
"It's come to my attention that you are intending to betray some family secrets." He clicked his tongue at Castiel. "Now, you know that's not the sort of thing he can just let slide."
Castiel felt an icy pit grow in his stomach. The words "How did you...?" slipped out before he could even think to stop them, and Zachariah's smile stretched even further across his face. "Did you hack my phone?"
"Well, we pay for it, don't we? We have every right to."
There was no point in lying. "Azazel's name isn't a family secret." For an instant he couldn't stop the disgust that had been building in his stomach ever since he'd stumbled over that name from boiling over. "How long have we known?"
"That Azazel set the fire? I'm assuming that's what this is about." Zachariah shrugged. "We've always known." He ruffled Castiel's hair, forcing him to grind his teeth to avoid cringing. "But what you want to do is give that name to outsiders, and that brings outsiders into family business and you know we just can't have that."
Castiel couldn't believe that he was hearing. "Even if I do give that name to the Winchesters, it has nothing to do with us. Azazel - or whatever his name actually is - he isn't family."
"True as that may be, he's connected to Lucifer and you and I both know Michael wants to handle all of that internally."
"He hasn't done much to handle it so far."
Zachariah's eyebrows raised. "Was that backtalk? Well, look who thinks he's so grown up all of a sudden."
That had been rash. If that kind of insolence got back to Michael he could land in real trouble - so Castiel wasn't sure why he couldn't just stop. "If Michael had any interest in handling it Azazel wouldn't still be free. D...The Winchesters have a right to know who killed their wife and mother."
"And you think you get to decide that? Is that really what you think?"
Castiel tried to cut around him and Zachariah grabbed the front of his shirt. "Let me go."
"We're not done."
"I have class," he said, not bothering to disguise the obvious lie.
Zachariah maneuvered him back over to the wall. "Let me completely honest with you, big brother to a little brother." The smile was still there but there was nothing close to concern in his eyes. Castiel had a sudden flashback to catching Uriel killing ants with a magnifying glass when they were younger and felt a bead of sweat roll down his back. "Michael wants all this to go away, and he told me to make it go away. Think of this as just some...brotherly persuasion."
"Let me go," Castiel said, shrugging out of Zachariah's grasp.
"Of course, of course," Zachariah answered, backing away with his hands up. "I of course don't want to interrupt your education any more. Just say you'll never mention the name Azazel to the Winchester brats and we can both get on with our day."
Castiel felt his heart beating so fast it made him light-headed. "No."
When he tried to leave again Zachariah stepped in his path. "Try again."
"I'm leaving."
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that until you figure out the right answer," he said, putting one hand on his chest.
Castiel felt his eyebrow quirk as he gave his brother a long, up-and-down look. As far as he knew Zachariah had never been in a fight in his life. "Are you going to stop me?"
"Oh come on, Castiel," he said, outright laughing at that. "I'm a businessman. I outsource." He snapped his fingers and Castiel looked up to see Gordon Walker and Mike Kubrick come around the corner, Walker grinning like he just won the lottery. "Boys," he said, backing away to give them room. "I think you've met my youngest brother."
"Oh, we're real close," Walker said, cracking his knuckles. "Aren't we, Kubrick?"
"We're all one with the Lord," he answered, taking his spot across from Walker.
Walker's eye was still bruised from the last fight. "Did we hit you so hard last time you forgot who won?"
"Cute, real cute. Can't help but notice there's something missing this go round, though."
Castiel chewed his inner lip as he sized up the two of them. He'd never fought them by himself, not the two at once; he thought he could take them but it wouldn't be an easy fight. He ran over the past fights in his mind, picking out strategy - Kubrick always led with his left and his balance was poor, while Walker hit hard but he liked to gloat and let down his defenses when he thought things were going his way.
Castiel let out a breath as he brought his hands up, stepping backward into a balanced crouch. Strike quickly and get away, that was the way to escape this. He just couldn't let them pin him down; as long as he could avoid that Castiel thought he might be okay.
Kubrick took the first step forward and Castiel surprised him with a quick left hook, smiling to himself as the taller boy stumbled back. He ducked Walker's first and caught him with a hook to the chin and then a shot to the body, one he knew was too glancing to back him off but felt so good to land. He was faster than either of them. He could do this.
Of course, it wasn't quite so easy when they both came at him at the same time; Walker grabbed his arm and Kubrick came charging back, cocking his fist back in a haymaker that Castiel thought was aimed at his eye but wound up hitting his ear. The quick explosion of pain made his knees buckle for a second; he heard Walker laughing at him as he jabbed the heel of his hand between Castiel's shoulder blades, pushing him toward Kubrick. Castiel stumbled but managed to find his feet just before the two of them collided; fortunately, Kubrick was just as off-balance and Castiel ducked the clumsy punch. He saw his opening, ducking under Kubrick's arm and making a run for the mouth of the alley.
When Castiel felt something trip him he knew it had been Zachariah. He didn't have time to get his hands out and fell hard enough to make his teeth rattle, his chin scraped up on the pavement. The fall knocked the wind out of him and while he knew he was only feet from safety he couldn't move.
As if to confirm the betrayal he heard Zachariah sigh, "Apparently I have to do everything myself. Get him up." He felt hands grab him and drag him up, too winded to even try to fight. Kubrick held his hands behind his back and Castiel's vision cleared up just in time to see Walker's fist coming right at his face.
The impact snapped his head back, pain radiating out from his cheek. Like the sound was coming from a tunnel he heard Zachariah say, "Not in the face. If you idiots give him a concussion he won't remember why we had to do this." He opened his eyes to see Zachariah take a position behind them, like he wanted a better view. He shook his head. "Amateurs."
Walker nodded. "You got it," he said, his lips curling up into a grin. The next punch was a hard blow to his stomach that doubled him over, driving what little air he'd managed to recover back out of him. He tried to struggle but Kubrick was stronger, and he had to choke back the scream when he felt Kubrick twist his wrist back to keep him still. "The more you struggle the worse it's gonna be," he said right into Castiel's ear, as if he was interested in anything Kubrick had to say.
Walker reared back like a boxer and landed a series of short, powerful jabs right in his ribs, forcing a groan out of Castiel. He could taste blood and didn't know if that was from splitting his lip during the fall or from something worse. He felt two more punches hit just under his sternum and the groans turned to whimpers, shame creeping over him. He didn't want to cry in front of them but it just hurt.
He looked up at Zachariah; they'd never been close, not the way he'd been with Anna and Uriel and Balthazar, but they were still family. It made him sick to realize it looked like Zachariah was enjoying himself. "We just want you to play ball, Castiel," he said, as if reading his thoughts. "Then this all can stop."
Castiel shook his head. Walker landed another hard punch, again to his ribs and Castiel felt his legs give out. He knew that if Kubrick hadn't been holding him up he would've been on the ground; he couldn't even put up a token defense anymore, he didn't have energy to do anything but hang there limp and let the blows come. He felt Kubrick shift behind him. "Hey, Gordon, relax," Castiel heard him say, like the sound was coming through a fog. "We don't wanna kill him here."
"Relax yourself," Walker said, the malice in his voice wrapping around Castiel's spine. "I'm enjoying myself." He could barely even feel the punches anymore; his vision swam and he waited for the fog to finish rising up to take the pain away completely.
Zachariah grabbed him by his hair, wrenching his head back and snapping him back to consciousness. "Stop making this harder than it has to be. We don't want to have to solve this problem the way we solved the last one." He leaned in close enough for Castiel to feel his breath on his face. "Funerals are expensive."
Castiel felt his blood turn to ice. Zachariah shoved him away, wiping his hand on his suit. Castiel felt tears burn his eyes as the attack started again. He didn't want to give in. He didn't want to believe his brother would let things get so far, that he would finally step in and stop this.
Walker hit him so hard he gagged. As he doubled over again Walker couldn't seem to help himself and hit him hard in the face, splitting his already bloody lip even more and the word, "Stop," came out before he even realized he'd said it. He felt a tear slide down his face and knew they'd won. "Stop. I'll stay quiet." A broken little sob forced its way out. "Please."
Zachariah waved Walker back and reached out to tip Castiel's chin up. It was starting to rain and he shivered as the first cold drops hit his skin. "So you're ready to be a good boy now?" Castiel nodded and Zachariah tightened his grip. "Say it."
"I'll be good," he whispered.
Zachariah gestured and Kubrick dropped him like he was on fire. Walker couldn't pass up the chance for one more cheap shot, kicking him once hard before Kubrick pulled him back. "Gordon, man, knock it off. It's over."
At least that's what Castiel thought he said; the words were garbled and far away as Castiel curled up on the ground and watched Zachariah walk out of the alleyway without backwards glance.
Castiel closed his eyes, coughing as he tried to breathe around the pain. He was so happy to pass out and not feel it any more that he didn't care if he ever woke up again.
-On to Part 7-
-Back to Masterpost-
-Back to Part 5-
Author: misachan
Artist: slinkymilinky (Link to Art Master Post)
Word Count: 3900
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Anna, Sam, Uriel, Zachariah
Warnings: Violence (including violence between family members), drug use (nothing stronger than pot), underage drinking (nothing harder than beer), sex between an 18 and 17-year-old, sexuality angst
Summary: Another day, another town; when their bounty hunter father enrolls he and Sam in yet another school Dean thinks this will just be another town he'll forget five minutes after he leaves it. Things get more interesting when Sam befriends a classmate of Dean's and the lonely boy with the strange name and stranger family slowly gets under Dean's skin. Their new friendship gets complicated when it becomes clear that Castiel's brothers aren't just strange, they're dangerous, and the secrets they keep and the sins they bury have a lot to do with Dean. It would all be bad enough even without Dean starting to worry that maybe friendship isn't all he wants.
A Dean/Castiel high school love story with fist fights, movie nights, make outs, broken hearts, hospital vigils and a steamed up hotel shower.
It took a few days, but it seemed to Dean like Castiel had finally...well, if not quite forgiven Dean for befriending his sister and for not magically know who she was, at least it seemed like he was willing to look past it as long as Dean followed the unspoken agreement to never, ever speak about it. And as much as Dean really wanted Cas to patch things up with Anna he liked Cas not giving him the silent treatment even more, so he'd reluctantly gone along with that.
What Dean didn't get is why Cas insisted on going back to school the day after the funeral. He would have thought the only good thing about the whole mess was that it should have been a get out of school free card, but Cas refused to take advantage of it. It was almost perverse.
And of course if Cas didn't cut, Dean couldn't either even though it was at the point where the only reason he wasn't outright failing everything was because Castiel refused to let him. Anyway, the threat of being kicked out of yet another school wasn't the reason Dean dragged himself into class every morning - while most of their classmates had managed to be surprisingly decent about the whole, "Hey, Castiel, heard your brother went nuts and got himself killed" thing, there were always that handful of people who just had be be dicks about everything. He would just be one lousy friend if he left Cas to deal with that all on his own.
He and Cas were behind the school sharing a well deserved smoke after showing Gordon Walker and his Jesus-freak sidekick why they should keep their smart mouths shut and really, winding down with a good friend after a fight was all Dean wanted out of life. "We should really thank those two some day," he said, the post-fight rush combining with the joint to make him comfortably mellow.
"How so?"
"Well, think about it. Them picking on Sam that day was how you and Sam met, and you hanging out with Sam was how me and you met. If it hadn't been for them being giant dicks to everyone in their path the two of us probably wouldn't have ever been friends. It was dumb luck you just happened to stumble over them."
Castiel was quiet for a few long moments. "I caught the two of them bullying Sam because I'd been following him around for two days."
Maybe the weed was stronger than Dean had given it credit for. "Huh? What do you mean?"
"What I said. I'd been following Sam for days by then. I knew Walker and Kubrick made a sport of picking on the new students, so I kept an eye on Sam to intercept them."
"That's...I mean, that was cool of you. Thanks for looking out for Sam like that."
Castiel looked away. "My motives weren't exactly pure, Dean."
"I'm lost, Cas."
Castiel gave him a look then, the one he used when he knew Dean had intentionally half-assed his homework so he would have to fix it. "I followed Sam all that time because I knew he was your brother."
Dean frowned. "I'm still not getting you," he said, although a nagging little voice was telling him Oh yes you do.
"I wanted an excuse to talk to you. I thought...." Dean could see color creep up over his cheeks and redden his ears. "I thought if I befriended Sam you might be better predisposed toward me."
"Dude, we're in the same crappy class. You could talk to me any time."
"I tried. I did I just..." He shook his head. "I could never make you hear me." He took a deep breath. "I've never met anyone like you. From that very first day I wanted to find a way for you to hear me."
"Dude, you're high," Dean said, trying to laugh off the anxiety clawing him apart. There were only so many places this could be going.
"I am not." Even though his current haze of denial Dean knew that was true. Less than half a joint was nowhere near enough to get Cas high, and anyway, he knew full well Cas on a high was a Cas who
interpreted Scripture off the top of his head or got enthusiastic about debunking historical myths. "I'm not. I've been trying work up to this for a very long time. I was afraid there would be repercussions but I don't care about them anymore."
"Repercussions for what?"
As if that was his cue Castiel stood up, and in the back of his mind Dean knew what was about to happen. When Cas hesitated for a split-second, his nerves getting the better of him after all, Dean knew that was his chance, he needed to stop this now.
But his body wouldn't listen to him. Castiel finally got his courage back and kissed Dean, pressing him against the wall, his mouth hot and wet and open, sending Dean careening back into that dream that had seemed absolutely impossible only a few weeks before. For a handful of breaths Dean even kissed him back, his body already reacting to way Cas was pressed against it.
Then panic sank its hooks into Dean and he pushed Castiel away, harder than he'd actually meant to. "What the hell was that, Cas?" he said, working hard to keep his voice even. It was bad enough dealing with the paranoid thought that Castiel somehow knew about that dream Dean had tried so hard to push away and was mocking him.
Dean didn't think he'd ever seen anyone look so confused. "I...should I have asked first? I will next time."
"There's not gonna be a next time. You hear me? That is never going to happen again."
Dean would hear the little break in Castiel's voice in his dreams for a long time. "Did I do it that badly?"
"That's not what...look, Cas, I'm just not like that, okay?"
He saw that wall go down behind Castiel's eyes. "Like what?" he said, the words coming out in a low snarl. "Like me?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean? Explain it to me."
Dean let out a sigh, desperate to find a way out. "Look, Cas, it's no big deal. It's just something that happened, we can just forget about it."
"I don't want to forget about it. I...." Dean saw something in him crumble. "I don't understand. You don't socialize with anyone you don't have a sexual interest in, aside from Sam."
"That's not true," Dean insisted, although when he reached back for counterexamples to prove Castiel wrong he couldn't find any.
"It is, though. I thought...you let me sleep by your bed," he said, hurt and confusion raw in his voice. "You've broken dates in favor of being with me."
"That doesn't mean...look, Cas, we're friends but that's it. Okay?"
Castiel nodded like he was in a daze. "Of course." He stumbled backward a few steps, his face flushed bright red. When Dean reached out on instinct to steady him Castiel jerked away. "Don't touch me."
"Cas, we're gonna be cool, right?"
He didn't at all like the way Castiel's lips twisted before we spoke. "Of course. As you said, this means nothing. No big deal." Then he stalked away.
Dean knew he should go after Cas, patch this up right away, but he couldn't bring himself to follow.
***
Dean had just decided to cut his losses and blow off the rest of the day when the text alert alert went off on his phone.
SAM: what did you do?
Dean sighed.
DEAN: ?
A few seconds the phone rang, and Dean didn't even have to glance at the screen to know it was Sam. "Yeah, Sam?"
"What did you do, Dean?"
"I didn't do anything."
"Cas wasn't at lunch and he's acting all weird. Did you two have a fight?"
"Dude, seriously? We're not thirteen-year-old girls."
Sam was quiet for a few moments. "He looked like he'd been crying."
Dean winced. "He's still upset about his brother. You know that."
"Yeah, I guess." Dean could almost see that bitchface Sam was so good at over the phone. "If you did do something, you'd better fix it." Then Sam hung up before Dean could say another word in his own defense.
Dean felt proud of himself for lasting almost the whole day before sending Castiel a text.
DEAN: U ok?
The answer came almost immediately.
CAS: Yes.
Well, that was helpful. Dean frowned at his phone for a second, then decided to try again.
DEAN: We cool?
That one Cas didn't answer. Dean told himself that silence had absolutely nothing to do with why he was up staring at the ceiling the entire night.
***
This went on for three days, long enough that he was even tempted to call Anna for advice, and only the absolute mortification of having to say "So yeah, your brother made a pass at me and I kind of freaked. How do I fix that?" held him back.
Then out of the blue one morning Castiel texted him.
CAS: I have something I need to tell you.
DEAN: ?
CAS: We should meet.
DEAN: Cant say it now?
CAS: No. It would be more secure face-to-face.
So that was weird, but Dean wasn't in any mood to argue.
DEAN: K. When?
CAS: Whenever would be conveient for you.
CAS: *convenient
Dean shook his head.
DEAN: Did u fix ur spelling?
CAS: Not the point. Meet at lunch behind the school.
CAS: Unless that would make you uncomfortable.
Dean didn't know how how Castiel could manage to pack so much passive aggression into one text.
DEAN: K. Ltr.
When history class rolled around Dean was tempted to cut, the way he usually did, but Castiel had told him to meet him at lunch, not during class. Cas was certainly cutting, though, and for a second Dean was tempted to just say fuck it and go join him, go find out what Cas had to tell him and get this stupid argument over and done with.
At the last second Dean decided to stay, telling himself that Cas wanted it that way.
That decision would show up in his dreams for a long time, too.
***
Castiel leaned against the back wall of the school, his foot tapping a neurotic pattern against the brickwork. He knew it would have been wiser to do this during history class, they both cut it so often their disappearance wouldn't be noticed, but he also knew it would take the whole morning for him to build up his courage. He was still so mortified over what had happened that every time he thought about how Dean had looked at him after that ill-advised kiss, remembered the sheer disgust in his eyes, Castiel felt bile rise up into his throat. He knew he would have to get past that - the thought of losing Dean's friendship entirely wasn't even something he could properly contemplate - but he just wasn't capable of it yet.
Unfortunately, this just wasn't something that could wait for that.
He heard footsteps approaching from around the corner and felt hope burn in his chest. Maybe Dean had decided to skip history, too. Castiel hadn't noticed how vital this time with Dean had been to his ability to drag himself through the day until he'd managed to poison it.
So when Zachariah came around that corner Castiel didn't think he could possibly have been more surprised. "So," he said, smiling that fake smile he was so good at as he looked around like a realtor appraising a house, "I take it this is why your grades have been slipping lately."
Castiel frowned. "My grades are fine," he said, because even if they were a 3.9 instead of a 4.0 this quarter he didn't think that was anything to complain about. "What are you doing here?"
"It's come to my attention that you are intending to betray some family secrets." He clicked his tongue at Castiel. "Now, you know that's not the sort of thing he can just let slide."
Castiel felt an icy pit grow in his stomach. The words "How did you...?" slipped out before he could even think to stop them, and Zachariah's smile stretched even further across his face. "Did you hack my phone?"
"Well, we pay for it, don't we? We have every right to."
There was no point in lying. "Azazel's name isn't a family secret." For an instant he couldn't stop the disgust that had been building in his stomach ever since he'd stumbled over that name from boiling over. "How long have we known?"
"That Azazel set the fire? I'm assuming that's what this is about." Zachariah shrugged. "We've always known." He ruffled Castiel's hair, forcing him to grind his teeth to avoid cringing. "But what you want to do is give that name to outsiders, and that brings outsiders into family business and you know we just can't have that."
Castiel couldn't believe that he was hearing. "Even if I do give that name to the Winchesters, it has nothing to do with us. Azazel - or whatever his name actually is - he isn't family."
"True as that may be, he's connected to Lucifer and you and I both know Michael wants to handle all of that internally."
"He hasn't done much to handle it so far."
Zachariah's eyebrows raised. "Was that backtalk? Well, look who thinks he's so grown up all of a sudden."
That had been rash. If that kind of insolence got back to Michael he could land in real trouble - so Castiel wasn't sure why he couldn't just stop. "If Michael had any interest in handling it Azazel wouldn't still be free. D...The Winchesters have a right to know who killed their wife and mother."
"And you think you get to decide that? Is that really what you think?"
Castiel tried to cut around him and Zachariah grabbed the front of his shirt. "Let me go."
"We're not done."
"I have class," he said, not bothering to disguise the obvious lie.
Zachariah maneuvered him back over to the wall. "Let me completely honest with you, big brother to a little brother." The smile was still there but there was nothing close to concern in his eyes. Castiel had a sudden flashback to catching Uriel killing ants with a magnifying glass when they were younger and felt a bead of sweat roll down his back. "Michael wants all this to go away, and he told me to make it go away. Think of this as just some...brotherly persuasion."
"Let me go," Castiel said, shrugging out of Zachariah's grasp.
"Of course, of course," Zachariah answered, backing away with his hands up. "I of course don't want to interrupt your education any more. Just say you'll never mention the name Azazel to the Winchester brats and we can both get on with our day."
Castiel felt his heart beating so fast it made him light-headed. "No."
When he tried to leave again Zachariah stepped in his path. "Try again."
"I'm leaving."
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that until you figure out the right answer," he said, putting one hand on his chest.
Castiel felt his eyebrow quirk as he gave his brother a long, up-and-down look. As far as he knew Zachariah had never been in a fight in his life. "Are you going to stop me?"
"Oh come on, Castiel," he said, outright laughing at that. "I'm a businessman. I outsource." He snapped his fingers and Castiel looked up to see Gordon Walker and Mike Kubrick come around the corner, Walker grinning like he just won the lottery. "Boys," he said, backing away to give them room. "I think you've met my youngest brother."
"Oh, we're real close," Walker said, cracking his knuckles. "Aren't we, Kubrick?"
"We're all one with the Lord," he answered, taking his spot across from Walker.
Walker's eye was still bruised from the last fight. "Did we hit you so hard last time you forgot who won?"
"Cute, real cute. Can't help but notice there's something missing this go round, though."
Castiel chewed his inner lip as he sized up the two of them. He'd never fought them by himself, not the two at once; he thought he could take them but it wouldn't be an easy fight. He ran over the past fights in his mind, picking out strategy - Kubrick always led with his left and his balance was poor, while Walker hit hard but he liked to gloat and let down his defenses when he thought things were going his way.
Castiel let out a breath as he brought his hands up, stepping backward into a balanced crouch. Strike quickly and get away, that was the way to escape this. He just couldn't let them pin him down; as long as he could avoid that Castiel thought he might be okay.
Kubrick took the first step forward and Castiel surprised him with a quick left hook, smiling to himself as the taller boy stumbled back. He ducked Walker's first and caught him with a hook to the chin and then a shot to the body, one he knew was too glancing to back him off but felt so good to land. He was faster than either of them. He could do this.
Of course, it wasn't quite so easy when they both came at him at the same time; Walker grabbed his arm and Kubrick came charging back, cocking his fist back in a haymaker that Castiel thought was aimed at his eye but wound up hitting his ear. The quick explosion of pain made his knees buckle for a second; he heard Walker laughing at him as he jabbed the heel of his hand between Castiel's shoulder blades, pushing him toward Kubrick. Castiel stumbled but managed to find his feet just before the two of them collided; fortunately, Kubrick was just as off-balance and Castiel ducked the clumsy punch. He saw his opening, ducking under Kubrick's arm and making a run for the mouth of the alley.
When Castiel felt something trip him he knew it had been Zachariah. He didn't have time to get his hands out and fell hard enough to make his teeth rattle, his chin scraped up on the pavement. The fall knocked the wind out of him and while he knew he was only feet from safety he couldn't move.
As if to confirm the betrayal he heard Zachariah sigh, "Apparently I have to do everything myself. Get him up." He felt hands grab him and drag him up, too winded to even try to fight. Kubrick held his hands behind his back and Castiel's vision cleared up just in time to see Walker's fist coming right at his face.
The impact snapped his head back, pain radiating out from his cheek. Like the sound was coming from a tunnel he heard Zachariah say, "Not in the face. If you idiots give him a concussion he won't remember why we had to do this." He opened his eyes to see Zachariah take a position behind them, like he wanted a better view. He shook his head. "Amateurs."
Walker nodded. "You got it," he said, his lips curling up into a grin. The next punch was a hard blow to his stomach that doubled him over, driving what little air he'd managed to recover back out of him. He tried to struggle but Kubrick was stronger, and he had to choke back the scream when he felt Kubrick twist his wrist back to keep him still. "The more you struggle the worse it's gonna be," he said right into Castiel's ear, as if he was interested in anything Kubrick had to say.
Walker reared back like a boxer and landed a series of short, powerful jabs right in his ribs, forcing a groan out of Castiel. He could taste blood and didn't know if that was from splitting his lip during the fall or from something worse. He felt two more punches hit just under his sternum and the groans turned to whimpers, shame creeping over him. He didn't want to cry in front of them but it just hurt.
He looked up at Zachariah; they'd never been close, not the way he'd been with Anna and Uriel and Balthazar, but they were still family. It made him sick to realize it looked like Zachariah was enjoying himself. "We just want you to play ball, Castiel," he said, as if reading his thoughts. "Then this all can stop."
Castiel shook his head. Walker landed another hard punch, again to his ribs and Castiel felt his legs give out. He knew that if Kubrick hadn't been holding him up he would've been on the ground; he couldn't even put up a token defense anymore, he didn't have energy to do anything but hang there limp and let the blows come. He felt Kubrick shift behind him. "Hey, Gordon, relax," Castiel heard him say, like the sound was coming through a fog. "We don't wanna kill him here."
"Relax yourself," Walker said, the malice in his voice wrapping around Castiel's spine. "I'm enjoying myself." He could barely even feel the punches anymore; his vision swam and he waited for the fog to finish rising up to take the pain away completely.
Zachariah grabbed him by his hair, wrenching his head back and snapping him back to consciousness. "Stop making this harder than it has to be. We don't want to have to solve this problem the way we solved the last one." He leaned in close enough for Castiel to feel his breath on his face. "Funerals are expensive."
Castiel felt his blood turn to ice. Zachariah shoved him away, wiping his hand on his suit. Castiel felt tears burn his eyes as the attack started again. He didn't want to give in. He didn't want to believe his brother would let things get so far, that he would finally step in and stop this.
Walker hit him so hard he gagged. As he doubled over again Walker couldn't seem to help himself and hit him hard in the face, splitting his already bloody lip even more and the word, "Stop," came out before he even realized he'd said it. He felt a tear slide down his face and knew they'd won. "Stop. I'll stay quiet." A broken little sob forced its way out. "Please."
Zachariah waved Walker back and reached out to tip Castiel's chin up. It was starting to rain and he shivered as the first cold drops hit his skin. "So you're ready to be a good boy now?" Castiel nodded and Zachariah tightened his grip. "Say it."
"I'll be good," he whispered.
Zachariah gestured and Kubrick dropped him like he was on fire. Walker couldn't pass up the chance for one more cheap shot, kicking him once hard before Kubrick pulled him back. "Gordon, man, knock it off. It's over."
At least that's what Castiel thought he said; the words were garbled and far away as Castiel curled up on the ground and watched Zachariah walk out of the alleyway without backwards glance.
Castiel closed his eyes, coughing as he tried to breathe around the pain. He was so happy to pass out and not feel it any more that he didn't care if he ever woke up again.
-On to Part 7-
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-Back to Part 5-