AN: Hey, everyone! What's shakin'? Thanks for the reviews and follows ^^ Now onward to Chapter 2! Also, you should listen to the song this title is named after. It's very pretty.

Chapter 2

Castiel sat down at his usual lunch table with Meg Masters. She was pretty much his only friend, and they always ate by themselves. Cas knew it sounded sad and lonely, but honestly, they preferred it this way. They had a nice quiet table in the back corner of the lunchroom where they could sit and talk without anyone bothering them. The two were sort of outcasts, what with Castiel being quiet and studious, and Meg being somewhat abrasive.

"How's your day been so far, Meg?" Castiel asked politely.

"Oh, just wonderful," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I find rotting away in this hellhole to be an absolute joy!"

"Point taken," Castiel responded dryly.

"How about you?" Meg asked, reaching into her bag to pull out her lunch. "Anything exciting happen?"

"Well, I got put in Ms. Tate's art class," Castiel grumbled.

"I'm sure you just love that," Meg teased.

"You know me and art. We're just the best of fr-" Cas trailed off as the boy from his class passed by them. He dropped his bag at the table next to theirs, pulled out his lunch, and began eating. His head was down again, and his shoulders looked tense. Everything about this boy screamed 'defensive.'

"Cas? Hello?" Meg snapped her fingers in front of Castiel's face to get his attention.

"Huh? Oh, sorry," Cas apologized, breaking out of his trance. "That boy over there is in my art class. I tried talking to him earlier but he didn't answer me."

"Well, no duh he didn't answer," Meg said. "Haven't you heard who that is?" Castiel shook his head. "That's Dean Winchester."

"So?" Cas asked, still confused.

"So he's deaf."

Cas felt his heart break a little in his chest as he looked back at the boy. Dean had all his belongings drawn in extremely close to him, and he ate his lunch quickly, refusing to look up. To Castiel, he looked a lot like a wounded animal, expecting to be snuck up on at any moment. Every muscle on his body (and there were plenty, Cas couldn't help but notice) was poised for flight.

"I had no clue," Castiel said sadly. "I wonder why he's here, instead of at a school with teachers who at least know sign language."

"No one knows," Meg shrugged. "It's not like any of us can really ask him."

Cas glanced over his shoulder at Dean. He couldn't help but feel extremely sorry for him.

"Why do you care, anyways?" Meg asked. Typically, she and Cas just kept to themselves and let everyone else deal with each other.

"I don't know," Cas said quietly. "I just do." Suddenly, Castiel stood up, grabbing his books and lunch.

"Whoa, where's the fire?" Meg asked.

"He seems lonely," Cas shrugged. "We should go sit with him."

"But he's deaf."

"And?" Castiel raised his eyebrows at her.

"And nothing," she sighed, standing up. "Honestly, the things I do for you…"

"Don't complain, you love me," Cas grinned. Meg muttered something under her breath that Castiel couldn't hear. "What was that?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing," she smiled sweetly, radiating sarcasm, as usual. Cas knew better than to pry, so he let it go. They moved to Dean's table and sat down, Cas pulling a sheet of paper and a pen from his bag as they did so. When they sat, Dean's head shot up. His green eyes held a forced toughness, his jaw set as if he was prepared for a fight. He drew his things in even closer to his body, as if he expected Castiel and Meg to try and take his stuff.

Castiel smiled kindly at him, but Dean just glared back. Clearly, he wasn't used to people being friendly towards him. The thought made Castiel want to sigh. Cas only had one friend, and even he knew how much of a difference that could make. Cas uncapped his pen and scribbled a quick note on the sheet of paper he had pulled out.

Hi. I noticed you were new here and that you were sitting by yourself. I sit next to you in Ms. Tate's art class. My name is Castiel, and this is Meg.

Cas slid the note to Dean with a hesitant smile. Dean eyed him suspiciously before picking it up and scanning it quickly. Castiel's smile widened hopefully when Dean held out his hand, silently requesting the pen. Dean wrote a response and shoved the note back at Cas.

The first thing Castiel noticed was the neatness of the handwriting. Much like Dean's artwork, every letter was neat and ordered, evenly spaced. Each letter was tall and thin and slanted and very close to the one before it. He had scrawled the note down very quickly, and still it was far nicer than Cas's. Castiel's eyes moved enviously over the note, wishing he had the same skill. The way a person writes says a lot about his personality, and what Castiel saw was extremely beautiful. Then he saw what the words actually said.

Go to hell.

Castiel looked up from the note, somewhat offended, to find Dean was already walking away from the table. He frowned, watching the other boy storm away. Dean clearly didn't interact with people very much, leaving him coarse and difficult to approach, not that Castiel blamed him. Cas couldn't imagine what he'd do in a situation like Dean's.

"What'd he say?" Meg asked curiously, trying to peer over Cas's shoulder at the note.

"Nothing," he lied quickly, folding the note and putting it in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Come on, Cas, I know you well enough to be able to tell when you're lying to me."

"It's not important," Cas protested.

"What, did he say you were weird? Call you a creeper? He didn't insult your precious hair, did he?" Meg pretended to be outraged.

"I said it's not important," Cas glared, running a hand self-consciously over his hair. He turned back to his bag to put his pen away. As soon as he bent over, he felt something reach into his pants.

"Watch it!" he jumped, smacking Meg's hand away from his ass. She leered back at him, waving the note she had snatched triumphantly in her hand.

"You know," Meg smirked, reading the note as Castiel tried to yank it back from her, "this kid may not be so bad after all."