Closer Then You Think
Chapter One
Summary: High School A/U. Dean thinks the only person who gets him is his online friend, FallenAngel. Then he meets Castiel, and suddenly he's spending less time online, and more time getting to know the beautiful and broken boy.
WARNINGS/ Parental abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, rape, and hompobia
XxX
"Fuck off, Dad!" Dean cursed as his father threw a beer bottle at him.
"Watch yer mouth boy, or I'll really give you somethin' to bitch about" John Winchester stood from his seat in front of the television, stumbling slightly as he gained his footing.
Dean shifted into a defensive position. "Yeah, I'd hate for you to lumber your drunk ass over and vomit all over me."
John's face twisted in rage and before Dean could move, his father was in front of him, fist in face. Dean stumbled back, hand moving to wipe away the trickle of blood traveling down from his nose. He scoffed. "That the best you got, old man?"
John responded with another crack to the head, causing his son to fall to the floor. Dean spat out some blood, his father hitting him right in the jaw. John loomed over him, disgust on his face. "Look at you- 17 and already goin' nowhere." His foot shot out and struck Dean in the ribs, causing the boy to curl into himself, coughing. "You piece of shit."
Dean laughed painfully. "Well, I always did want to grow up to be like you" That earned him another kick in the stomach.
He moved to strike his son again, when a small voice rang out, "Dad! Leave him alone!" John turned to the stairs to see his youngest son standing there, worry etched on his face.
He looked down at Dean once more, before spitting on him. "Get the fuck out of my sight." And with that he turned his back on the boy, and retreated to the kitchen to get another drink.
Sam ran down the stairs to his brother, helping him up. "C'Mon, lets get you upstairs before he comes back."
Dean glared, but proceeded to limp to the stairs with his brother, grumbling profanities all the way.
As Dean sat on his bed, Sam scrambled to the bathroom to grab the first aide kit. He returned moments later, requesting Dean to remove his shirt.
As Sam began to dress his wounds, Dean moved his hand and ruffled the young boys hair. "Hey, how did you get so good at doing this?"
Sam snorted, moving to wipe Deans lip with a cotton swab. "Cause you get banged up on a daily basis, idiot."
Dean chuckled, and moved to put his shirt back on as Sam retreated back to the bathroom. "I'm sorry, you know," Dean said as his brother returned.
Sam shook his head and sat on his own bed. "Don't be. It's not your fault he gets violent. I just wished you didn't egg him on so much." Sam reached into his book bag and pulled out a textbook.
Dean followed suit, reaching into his bag and pulling out his laptop. He had spent and entire year saving up enough money to buy his baby. He plugged it into the wall, sighing. "I know Sam- I just cant help myself sometimes. He grates on my nerves."
Sam nodded in understanding, and continued studying. Dean smirked at his brown nosing little brother, and turned his attention back to his computer, opening up AIM. As usual, he was greeted by one chat box opening.
FallenAngel: Hello
Dean smiled brightly as he read the simple message.
DemonHunter: Hey. What's going on?
FallenAngel: Not much, really. I'm working on my history assignment. Yourself?
One thing Dean liked about FallenAngel was the fact that he just spoke so… proper. He never conformed to today's slang or Internet speak. It was a nice change to the idiotic speech patterns he was used to.
DemonHunter: Just finished getting patched up. Dad and I had another fight.
FallenAngel: What was he upset about this time?
DemnHunter: My popcorn was popping too loud. He couldn't hear the game
FallenAngel: Well if that is not a reason to lose ones temper, I don't know what is.
Dean re-read the post a second time, before snort escaped him.
DemonHunter: Was that a joke? Coming from you? That's rare!
FallenAngel: Well, I thought I would try it out. You do it often enough.
DemonHunter: Heh, yeah, but I'm a boyish rogue. You're supposed to be the gentleman here.
FallenAngel: Boyish rogue?
DemonHunter: Yeah, you're not the only one who knows fancy words.
FallenAngel: It seems I am having a bit of an influence on you.
Dean shook his head, chuckling. Sam looked up from his books, quirking an eyebrow. "You know Dean, its kind of creepy how big your smile gets when you are on that thing. Who are you talking to anyways?"
Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. "Shut up, Sammy. I'm talking to my friend."
Sam leaned forward, a lecherous smile stretching on his face. "A girlfriend?" he sang, drawing out the last word.
Dean threw a sock at him. "Screw off and do your math homework, dork." He turned back to his conversation with FallenAngel.
It had been six months since he started talking to the mysterious stranger. They met through a chat site, one Dean happened to stumble across one day searching for something to do.
The two had barely shared anything with each other then their age and gender, though Dean didn't mind. They shared everything else, and that's all that mattered. FallenAngel knew his family situation, and he was the only one who listened when he complained.
Sometimes Dean wondered what the other boy got out of taking with him. He wasn't well spoken, or into fancy literature, or up to date on recent events. He was the son of a drunken bastard and the schools punching bag.
He tried asking him once, but FallenAngel responded with a flat "You are you. That is enough," then promptly changed the subject.
Dean's eyes flicked to the bottom of his screen and groaned.
DemonHunter: Hate to cut this short, but its hitting 2AM. I'm heading to bed. I'll be on around lunch, catch you if you are on.
FallenAngel: Alright, I will see what I can do. I will speak with you tomorrow. Until then, good night.
DemonHunter: Yeah, you too. Night.
Dean signed out with a sigh, closing it and returning it to his book bag. He removed his pants and crawled under the covers. Luckily tomorrow was Friday, so afterwards he had two uninterrupted days of computer time.
With that thought, he sunk into a deep sleep.
XxX
Dean was awoken by a whack to the head. He shot up to glare at the person who dared disturb his sleep, when he saw his brother standing with his hands on his hips. "Hey bro…" he mumbled, throwing the covers off of himself.
"Don't 'hey bro' me! I've been trying to wake you up for twenty minutes now! Thanks to you, we are both going to be late!" As Sam lectured, Dean rose from his bed, groggily pulling his pants over his hips, and ran a hand through his hair.
"Give me a minute to brush my teeth and then we can leave." He walked towards the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush.
Sam followed him, leaning against the doorframe. "You know, if you weren't up till all hours of the night talking to your girlfriend, then you'd get a decent nights rest."
Dean glared at him as he scrubbed his teeth lazily. He mumbled a 'fuck you' before he spit in the sink. He did a quick mouth rinse and turned to his brother. "Ready to go, bitch tits?"
Sam stuck his tongue out before turning to grab his stuff. Dean followed him, grabbing his own bag, and traveled down the stairs, snatching his keys off the table. His eyes caught a glimpse of his father sprawled out on the couch and rolled his eyes.
The boys made it out to Dean's car, a '67 Chevy Impala, and as soon as the seat belts were on, Dean sped out of their garage. The drive to school was relatively quiet, aside from Dean's radio blaring Metallica in the background.
As they parked, Dean looked over at Sam. " I'm going to the library for lunch, so can you grab me something from the caf and drop it off?" he asked, unbuckling his seat belt.
Sam nodded, climbing out of the car, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Yeah- burger and a coke, right?"
Dean chuckled, nodding, handing Sam his lunch money. The two brothers split ways, and Dean began to hurry to his locker. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't paying much attention and ended up smacking into in chest of Lucifer Novak.
Dean's eyes traveled up from the quarterback's chest to his face. It held a scowl of disgust, and the taller boy moved to shove Dean away from him. "Watch where you're going, short stack."
Dean snorted. He was never one to back down from a bully- which is what always got him into trouble. "Your right, I should have predicted you were going to be standing right in the middle of the hall. Guess I left my magic ball at home today."
Lucifer glowered down at Dean, lip curling. "Watch your mouth, smartass, or you'll be leaving here with a lot less then your magic balls."
Dean let out a short, mocking laugh. "Oh wow, threats now too? Looks like my morning is compl-" before he could finish his sentence, Lucifer's fist shot out and landed in Dean's stomach. He wheezed, the air being knocked out of him, and he fell onto his knees, coughing.
"Lucifer, what are you doing?" Both boys heads turned to see a young man approaching. Dean got to his feet, and noticed the boy was a bit shorter then himself. He had a mess of dark hair, and wore a button up shirt, slacks, and a tie- if Dean didn't know any better, he would have assumed he was a man on his way to work as apposed to a student. He even had a tattered trench coat over his shoulders. Though what really stuck out about the stranger were his eyes- a deep, almost electric blue.
Dean shook his head a bit, surprised at how easy those eyes sucked him in, while the boy turned his attention to the tall jock. "C-Castiel. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be home resting?" Lucifer stammered out.
The boy, Castiel, shrugged his shoulders. "I was feeling better today, and thought I would come and spend a day at school." His eyes shifted to look at Dean, expression unchanging. "Are you alright?"
Dean waved a dismissive hand at Castiel. "Don't worry about it, nothing a little ice won't fix."
Castiel seemed satisfied with the answer as he turned back to Lucifer. "Now, I would like you to stop fighting in the halls. Father would be most displeased if he found out you were dismissed from the team for something so juvenile."
Dean raised an eyebrow, and before he could stop himself he asked, "Father? You guys related or something?"
Castiel turned back to him, eyebrows creasing slightly. "I apologize, it seems I have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Castiel Novak, and Lucifer is indeed my older brother. It's a pleasure to meet you. " The shorter boy extended his hand, looking expectantly at Dean.
Dean grasped the outstretched hand, shaking in twice before releasing it. "Uh, Dean Winchester. Likewise."
Castiel nodded curtly, and looked back at Lucifer, who was standing awkwardly in silence. "Now with that out of the way, I'm looking for room 107. It seems I have an art class. If you could be so kind as to show me where it is?"
Lucifer shifted, scratching the back of his neck. "I'd love to, but I have gym first period, and I'm already late…" he spoke, eyes downcast. Dean couldn't help but smirk as the tall jock was reduced to an awkward mess. So even the big, tough Lucifer was scared of someone. Though, Dean thought to himself, what could possibly be scary about this little guy?
"Ah, I'll take you. I have art too. C'Mon." Dean motioned the shorter boy to follow him. Castiel gave Lucifer a nod of his head, and followed the other boy.
Lucifer let out a sigh of relief and smirked. "Ah, that idiot has no idea what he got himself into…"
XxX
"So…" Dean started, trying to make conversation with his overly stoic companion. "I don't think I've seen you in class before. You just enroll or something?"
Castiel kept his eyes forward, and answered with a curt "no".
Dead tried again, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, why are you taking art? You don't seem the artsy type."
"I could say the same about you." Castiel shifted his eyes briefly to Dean in recognition before looking forward once again.
Dean let out a chuckle. "Well you are right about that. Actually, turns out we need an art credit, and I just wasn't up for drama."
Castiel nodded. "Yes, I felt the same way."
Soon enough, the two were in front of room 107. "After you," Dean offered, stepping back. The boy nodded, entering the classroom, and Dean followed, taking his usual seat in the back.
The chair beside his moved, and Dean looked over to find Castiel settling in the desk next to his. He looked back, blinking once then turning his head to stare at the board.
Dean shook his head, a small smirk emerging. There was something about the boy that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the way he held himself, or the tone of his voice, but it was almost a… familiar feeling. What ever it was, Dean was sure of one thing- Castiel was one interesting sonofabitch.
The door at the front of the room opened, and in stepped Bobby Singer, their teacher. He wore his usual flannel shirt and vest combo, his worn hat adorning the top of his head. The only thing different about the man was the gauze taped to the left side of his face.
The man had just set his bag down when Dean's voice rang out. "Oi Bobby, what happened to your face?"
Bobby scowled at his student, picking up a marker. "That's Mr. Singer to you, boy. And that's none of your damn business." As usual, the man's voice held a southern accent, laced with just a hint of elderly bitterness. "Alright, so today we're gunna be talkin' about the Romantic period. Get yer text book out and follow along, so we can try to get through this in one piece."
Dean lent forward to grab his textbook from his bag when he caught his neighbor looking around the room. From the looks of it, Castiel lacked a textbook, and didn't seem sure what to do about it. Dean let a small smile form on his lips as he sat up, and leaned towards the boy. "Hey, wanna share my book?"
Castiel looked at him for a moment, before nodding. Dean slid his desk closer to the boy, opening the textbook to chapter seven, moving it so it sat between the two of them. Castiel mumbled a hushed thank you before leaning to take a look at the pages.
The rest of the class was uneventful, Bobby reciting passages from the textbook before pausing to write something on the board and elaborating on certain points. Dean had tuned out halfway through, doodling images of guns and cars in his notebook, while Castiel studiously made notes, focusing completely on the lesson.
Soon enough the bell rang, and everyone began collecting their things to move onto their next class. Castiel stood, and shot a glance at Dean. "Thank you for sharing your book with me."
Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Castiel was already leaving, so he shouted after him "See ya tomorrow!"
As soon as Castiel was out of his line of sight, he walked to the front of the room, where Bobby was collecting papers. He looked up at the boy, and let out a gruff "What do ya want?"
Dean shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant fashion. "Nothing really, just really curious about what happened to your cheek there." He accentuated his point by motioning to Bobby's injury.
Bobby let out a sigh, shaking his head. "You never let up, do ya kid?"
Dean smiled at that. "I like to think its one of my better features."
Bobby was silent for a moment, before responding. "It was Gordon."
Dean dropped all pretenses, face changing from amused to serious. "Gordon is back? Since when?"
Bobby Singer had been a close friend to the Winchester family once. That all changed the day John took the side of Gordon Walker- the man who raped Karen Singer.
He had come home one day, to find his house ransacked, door ajar, and Gordon on top of his wife. Before he could get to the two, John had appeared, and wrestled Bobby to the ground. Dean's drunk father held Bobby down as Gordon ravaged his wife.
Since then, Bobby has been taking care of Dean and Sam behind the scenes. Even though he would like nothing more then to choke the life out of John Winchester, to relish in his suffering, he could never do that to his boys. He also knew he couldn't look out for them from prison, so John got to live another day.
Bobby took a seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Turned up last night, said he left somethin' at my place. Threw him out of course, but not before he landed a few blows." He let out another sigh. "I suspect he was lookin' for Karen."
Dean had pulled up a seat himself, taking in the news. "Wow… he doesn't know where she is, does he?"
Bobby shook his head. "Don't think so. I'm gunna call up the hospital and let em know what is goin' on. Make sure they keep an extra eye out."
Dean nodded, eyes lowering to look at the floor. Karen had been admitted to the local psych ward last year after she tried to commit suicide, the stress from the incident too much for her to handle.
Dean figured the hardest part of it all was the fact that Karen blamed herself, begging his forgiveness every time he visited her. "So what are you gunna do, Bobby?" Dean asked, looking back up at his teacher.
Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "Try to stop him from finding Karen, and shooting him if he shows up again." With that, Bobby stood, grabbing his bag. "Now scat. I gots another class, and so do you. Now get."
Dean didn't need to be told twice, and his hand clutched his bag, rushing out the door. Apparently Bobby was finished talking, and he had another class to get to.
Biology went by quickly, with Dean sleeping through most of it. The obnoxious bell broke him out of his slumber, and he clambered out of his desk to rush out of the class to get his ass to the library. He jogged down the hallway, weaving through his peers, narrowly missing a kissing couple and receiving a few 'screw you's from even closer collisions.
The first thing Dean noticed when he entered the library was that Castiel sat at one of the tables, laptop open, fingers dancing along the keyboard quickly. He set down his bag a few tables away, and pulled out his own laptop. He noticed Castiel looked up briefly, before returning his gaze to his screen, and Dean let himself smile. The boy was just so… odd.
Dean flipped open his laptop, logging into AIM. His smile grew, seeing FallenAngel online. As usual, a chat box popped up containing a brief greeting.
FallenAngel: Hello.
DemonHunter: Hey! Glad to see you made it on.
FallenAngel: We had an appointment.
DemonHunter: Haha, guess we did.
FallenAngel: Though I must admit, I almost did not make it online. My brother thought it funny to change the password to the internet, and refused to relinquish the code. So I decided to use the internet in school, instead.
DemonHunter: Wait, school? I thought you were homeschooled? And why would your brother change the password anyways? Doesn't seem all that funny.
FallenAngel: I'm taught at home due to my illness, yes, but my parents have yet to pull me from the school's registrar, so I took advantage of that fact. I suspect my brother is none too happy to find I left this morning.
Dean leaned back, letting out a laugh. It wasn't like FallenAngel to act so… rebellious.
DemonHunter: Wow, first the jokes, and now the sneaking out- your turning into a regular James Dean.
FallenAngel: Who is James Dean?
DemonHunter: Uh… never mind. Forgot you don't pop culture and all that. So- how is school treating you? Meet any cute girls yet? ;)
FallenAngel: Not particularly. Though I did meet someone that reminded me of you.
DemonHunter: Oh yeah? Let me guess, handsome, great personality and a smile to die for?
FallenAngel: Narcissism aside, I doubt he looks anything like you.
Dean was about to reply when FallenAngel sent a second message that caught Dean's attention.
FallenAngel: Though he did have an eye-catching smile.
DemonHunter: Not for nothing, man, but the last guy who said that about another dude wound up being gay.
FallenAngel: So? How does that have any relevance to our relationship? Would you no longer desire my companionship if I happen to… as you say, wind up being gay?
Dean scratched the back of his neck, eyebrows knitting together. This was unfamiliar territory for them- they never discussed things like sex, religion or politics. Certainly they never discussed their views on homosexuality. Though he had a feeling he had to answer this carefully, this seemed like a touchy subject for FallenAngel.
DemonHunter: Of course not. I guess I thought I was trying to be funny, and failed, as usual. My bad man, didn't mean to touch a nerve.
There was a long pause, and Dean felt panic well in his chest, and before he got an answer, Sam appeared, lunch in tow. "Here you go- Seriously man? Your talking to your girlfriend again?"
Dean glared at him, covering the screen. "Buzz off and leave the food, asshat!"
Sam stuck out his tongue, turning to leave. "You're welcome by the way, jerk!" he tossed over his shoulder.
Dean looked over to Castiel, noticing the dark haired boy had also looked up from his laptop, watching the commotion that was happening between Sam and Dean. Their eyes met briefly, before Castiel looked back down, typing away furiously.
Dean stared at him a moment longer before the flashing on his computer caught his attention.
FallenAngel: It is fine. I am accustomed to your foot-in-mouth humor. Though to avoid this issue in the future, I have no interest in either sex.
DemonHunter: No interest? Are you like… asexual or something?
FallenAngel: No, I indeed have a sex drive. I just have yet to find an individual to invoke it.
DemonHunter: Oh, okay, I think I get it. I'll keep that in mind.
FallenAngel: That would be most appreciated.
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. One question kept surfacing in his brain- how can FallenAngel not be attracted to anyone? And why was Dean so disappointed with that?
XxX
This is my first attempt at Destiel fan fiction, so I hope you've enjoyed it!
Next chapter, there will be a LOT more Dean/Cas moments! I have a particularly delicious one planned for their next day in art class :3
Thanks for reading! As usual, reviews are encouraged!