Chapter One - Irish Whiskey

Dean sat, conflicted, his eyes occasionally flickering up to the bottle of irish whiskey that had been sat on top of his liquor cabinet gathering dust for almost 7 months, then back down to his trembling palms on his lap. He knew that his sobriety was important to Sammy, and that if he picked up the bottle, he may never hear from his baby brother again. Normally, Dean wouldn't consider even looking at the cabinet. But this wasn't exactly normally.

A couple of weeks before, his long term girlfriend, Lisa, had confronted him about how he had accumulated the array of scars and marks on his arms and legs. She knew, of course, that he had a history of self harm, her question was merely asking why he had done it, but whenever she asked him about it, he just stiffened and refused to speak until the subject had been averted.

But this time was different.

She wouldn't lay off.

Dean sat, balancing his head between his legs, trying to block her out, but all of this had been building up for almost a year. Dean wouldn't get off the hook so easily this time.

"For fucks sake Dean! How do you just expect this to work out when you keep so many goddamn secrets from me?!" she hissed.

Dean flinched at the harsh tone of her voice, tears beginning to spill from his eyes.

But he wouldn't let her see.

He never let her see.

So he continued to stare at the floor, vision blurred from the hot wet tears.

"Dean, look at me." Lisa whispered her voice calmer.

He grunted, subtly wiping his damp face onto his jeans as he raised his head from the little nook between his thighs. Lisa slowly walked over to him, slightly crouched, as if approaching a small animal and warily lay her hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay sweetie," she comforted "I'm sorry I lost my temper.. It's just, whatever this-" she gestured to the scars on his arms "is, it must be pretty big, and you must understand why I want to know, right?"

"Yeah I know. I get it. Don't be sorry." Dean mumbled, fidgeting with the hem on his sweater.

"Well I am." Lisa said as she leaned in and kissed a stray tear off his nose that he hadn't even noticed was lingering there. "And if you don't want to tell me after the way I acted, I completely understand. Its fine." She reassured him, beginning to list herself off the bed.

"No." Dean grabbed Lisa's wrist, gently pulling her back onto the bed. "I want to tell you."

Dean inhaled deeply, prepping himself for Lisa's reaction to his hidden past.

"Okay." He began. "Here goes nothin'"

Dean had never really got on well with his parents from the age of 13. Every conversation would escalate into a stupid argument. He found himself loitering around the mall or in the park after school just to avoid coming home.

He wasn't depressed, just not happy.

Dean earned himself a bad reputation in school. He was cocky and rude to teachers and a bully to students. At the age of thirteen, the only friends he had were junkies and players.

One night, he came home to his parents arguing. He thought nothing of it. It wasn't anything serious.

Then it happened again the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and his parents couldn't talk to each other without making snide remarks and starting yet another argument.

Five weeks before Dean's 14th birthday, his parents filed the divorce papers and Dean was forced to choose which parent to stay with.

He chose not to choose and went into care with his little brother, Sam.

Sam originally wanted to stay with his mother, but Dean wouldn't allow Sam to be separated from him. He needed to protect his baby brother at all costs.

That promise that he made to himself was no exaggeration. He did protect Sammy at all costs, and even though Dean was fucked up afterwards, he kept telling himself it was worth it because his brother was safe, and it was him who kept him safe.

One week before Dean's 14th birthday, a boy named Castiel was brought into the same care home as him. It soon became common knowledge that this boy wasn't exactly into girls.

In the days leading up to his birthday, Dean found himself intrigued by Castiel, and Castiel was intrigued by Dean.

They commonly caught themselves locked in eye contact with each other, both of them daring each other to look away first, and although these two boys had never uttered a single word to each other, Dean felt as if he had known Castiel his entire life, and to his surprise, he realised that he trusted this stranger unconditionally.

The feeling was mutual and Castiel found himself equally confused by the fact.

Three days before Dean's 14th birthday, Castiel approached Dean. He was shaking and his mind was racing, but he carried on in the delusion that Dean could be gay too. Dean looked up and saw Castiel shuffling over to him, dragging his feet and smiling at the ground.

Dean beamed up at him and patted the seat beside him, inviting the boy to sit. Castiel positioned himself next to Dean, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his head on them. He gazed at Dean, examining his side profile thoroughly and feeling a small smile playing on his lips as he realised how beautiful Dean really was.

Dean looked up from his Nintendo and smiled softly at the boy. "Hey, Castiel, right? Can I call you Cas? Less of a mouthful," he chuckled.

"Yeah, sure, everyone calls me Cas anyway. I'm not even sure why my mom called me Castiel in the first place. I don't think it's even a real name." Cas smiled, still mesmerised by Dean.

"Maybe not… nice name though..." Dean mused, gazing at Cas' eyes. They were blue. Really blue. Almost intimidatingly blue.

Castiel smiled shyly "Anyway, um.. before there's too much confusion…" he said "I was wondering if.. are you.. you know.. um…" he stuttered.

"Gay? No, Jesus Christ, no." Dean said, but as he spoke the words, he felt unsure of himself. He was definitely into girls, but the way Cas was making him feel was causing him to doubt his previous conclusions about his sexuality.

Cas could see that his words were conflicting the look on his face and grinned. "C'mon, that was a lie and you know it." He laughed.

"Dude, I'm not freaking gay!" Dean argued.

"Bi?"

"No!"

Castiel noticed the redness of Dean's cheeks and the way his hands were fidgeting with his sweatpants and breathed out slowly, trying to force himself not to kiss him right then and there. If Dean wouldn't admit it with his words, he would have to just try and get him to admit it with his actions. Dean looked down, his face red and hot. he breathed slowly, calming himself down.

"So, Cas how'd you end up in this dump?"

"Oh, it's a long story. I'd rather not say if that's okay," Cas said. "What about you? You got a story?"

"Yeah, but it aint interesting. My parents split up but I hate both their guts so I moved here and took Sammy with me."

"Sammy?" Cas asked.

"Yeah, my little brother, he's 10 in May," Dean said softly, affection saturating his voice at the thought of his brother.

Castiel stared at Dean, wondering what it was like to be loved as much as Sam was by Dean, and as he stared, he found himself falling in love.