Castiel walked two meters behind Dean, not in any mood to get closer. He was just as pissed off as Dean was. Castiel may have been reserved and generally to himself but he wasn't the type to let things such as that progress to the point where it was causing him extreme distress, which was exactly what had felt when Dean was pushing him into the ground with his foot. When it came to that, Castiel did not present himself as passive.

Looking up from the ground he continued to hear Dean cursing under his breath and raising his hand to his face and whipping it back. Castiel followed this movement and saw some blood smeared on the sides of his fingers. Putting the pieces together he assumed that he had given Dean a bloody nose.

For the quickest moment Castiel thought he felt some guilt tightening in his chest. He cleared his throat trying to make the feeling pass. He should not feel guilty for this; Dean was insufferable, cruel and juvenile.

Dean had apparently heard the clearing of Castiel's throat and glanced back, his upper lip stained in red. He looked on with rage. Castiel swallowed hard in reaction, it certainly was not a very comforting look to get.

"I should just beat you to the ground right this second," He said. His voice wasn't quite so sharp and intimidating now. It was smothered with pain, shock, and deep set anger, not nearly as straight forward.

Castiel sighed softly, "That would only get you in deeper shit," Castiel replied, looking at his back.

He huffed in response as they reached the shed with open doors, some of the tools currently in use by the grounds keepers. Dean stepped inside and grabbed two axes. With a flat look on his face he handed Castiel one of them, sharp edge first, as some sort of threatening gesture Castiel thought.

He ignored it and reached around the sharp metal until he grabbed at the smooth wood of the handle and took it from Dean's hands, then waited for him to step out of the small wooden building.

Dean was making an effort to avoid looking at Castiel, his shoulders were tense and his back slouched, as if his pride had been hurt.

Looking over his shoulder Castiel saw Dean's friends being told to return to their cabins by Ellen and Bobby; they obliged, but not without looking over at Castiel and Dean with disappointed looks painted over their features.

"Come on," Dean said already on his way to where ever the uncut wood was kept. He didn't look back when he said it.

Catching up to the taller boy Castiel made sure he was what he wanted to think was a safe distance behind him. Thirty seconds of walking down a gravel pathway behind the mess hall they had reached a small clearing where piles of wood were kept, though the obvious downsizing of the pieces needing to be made.

Dean positioned himself in front of a thick stump, resting the blade of the axe on the ground. Looking at Castiel he spoke up "Grab a piece," was all he said. Castiel took a moment to process why Dean was making him get the wood for him when the pile was maybe only ten feet away. He didn't question it however.

Setting his axe on the ground he walked over, grabbed a thick block of wood and set it vertically on the stump for Dean. Before Castiel even had a chance to back a safe distance away Dean was swinging, the muscles in his arm writhing with the force as the axe moved down and sliced the wood with a loud crack. He was unimpressed and angry with Dean's carelessness, but passed it off as just more childish vengeance towards the smaller young man who had punched him in the face.

Dean cut the two halves into some smaller pieces and tossed them in a wheel barrel a few feet away. Then stopping to take a quick breath he looked at Castiel and raised his eye brow in judgement. Castiel confused looked at his person, trying to see what exactly it was he was looking at. By the time he looked up Dean was placing another piece of wood on the stump.

"Go for it," Dean said, making a hand movement towards the wood.

Castiel grabbed his axe with a quick hand and stepped where Dean had previously been. He assumed that Dean was waiting to see some sort of failure from Castiel in the wood cutting, which he was very determined to prove wrong. This wasn't the first time Castiel had done this but Dean clearly didn't know it, then again his smaller build might have also hinted to the possibility that he might not be fit for the job.

Castiel scoffed and lifted the axe, swinging it down with deadly efficiency. The piece cracked and tumbled into two.

He looked up to See Dean biting the inside of his cheek, a hard look on his face. Castiel grinned up at him, pleased that he had proved the brunette wrong.

"Where'd you get that necklace, anyway? Your boyfriend?" Dean asked suddenly, a teasing tone weaved throughout his voice.

Castiel's smile faded and he looked down at the little golden wing sitting on his chest. "What are you, seven? My sister gave it to me as a gift." Castiel corrected sourly, giving Dean an unamused look.

Dean looked at the ground for a moment, moving one hand into his pocket.

"I apologize for punching you," The words slipped past his lips before he had a chance to stop them. He cursed and fussed in his head. He shouldn't have done that; he shouldn't have given him that. By no means did he forgive him, he was enraged, in fact.

The taller boy lifted his head and looked at Castiel in confusion for a moment before he wiped his nose again, smearing more blood on his hand as he did so.

It looked as though he was taking time to process what Castiel had just said; like he was running it through his mind, trying to figure out if it was genuine, why he had said it, if he should accept it and if he should reply.

Apparently the decision was made. His features changed from calm to conceded and cocky "Why would I accept an apology from a queer?" a grin playing at one corner of his lips and chin raising with pride.

A light gust of wind blew past them, during which a fiery hate was building up in Castiel's body. He clenched his fists, one wrapping tightly around the handle of the axe. Lifting his arm he pointed the axe at Dean, making the muscular boy back off a bit.

"What is your problem?" Castiel asked, raising his voice, "You've got this cocky bad boy air about you but ultimately you're simply a bigoted, ignorant asshole." He continued "Until a few minutes ago I had done nothing to you. You looked at me and decided I was your target and of gay slurs of all things. Creative. What if I was gay? What would it matter? How could it possibly affect you?" He ended off with a sharp note, making his point clear.

It appeared he had left Dean speechless, though he was looking directly in Castiel's eyes. Averting his gaze he grabbed another piece of wood and began chopping again. Castiel stood back waiting for him to finish the piece.

They continued like this for ten minutes until they had filled the wheel barrel. Placing the axes on top of the small pile Dean lifted the handles and began walking back towards the mess hall. Castiel walked behind him again, looking at the back of his head.

He couldn't deny that Dean was peculiar, there was something revealing about the expressions on his freckled face. If you didn't look directly at him you might be able to take everything he said completely seriously, but Castiel had gathered by this point that he was full of shit. Something scared or distressed him, he armoured up with a pretentious attitude and smart ass comments.

As they walked all Castiel could think of was his father. If he knew this were happening he would have Castiel taken out of that camp so fast it would give him motion sickness. Michael was protective to say the least, and from past experience he knew the man did not tolerate anyone undermining his children. It had happened with him and his sister. Michael held the same devotion to Castiel, the adopted child as he did with Anna, his biological daughter. Ever since Castiel was old enough to notice, he had always admired that about Michael. He was all loving, however strict and stubborn.

Despite this fact, Castiel would not mention what had happened here to his father. He didn't want to bother him with such trivial things while he was half way across the world on business. It wasn't of importance and Castiel had learned well enough from him that he was capable of handling the situation. He was smart and a wonderful problem solver.

"Dean!" A voice called out from somewhere further up the path.

Castiel looked up to see a scruffy headed, lanky kid jogging towards Dean; it was Sam. Dean perked up at his little brother's voice and motioned with his head for his brother to walk next to him. Sam looked at Dean then Castiel, some concern on his face when their eyes met.

"Heard you got in some shit with Bobby and Ellen," Sam said looking up at his brother. There was admiration in his eyes, devotion and love. And when Dean looked over at his younger brother, Castiel could see the same look in his green eyes.

"Yeah, it's no big deal, don't worry about it Sammy." Dean replied, his voice flat, clearly not in the mood to talk about it with the cause of the issue walking right behind him.

Sam's lips pressed into a hard straight line, "Dean, you have to stop pulling this kind of stuff, you've been acting like a complete jack ass lately," Sam explained, not taking any care to quiet his voice to make it more private.

"Look Sam, I'm not really in the mood to hear any of this right now, save it for later?" It was more an order than a question.

Sam finally nodded and looked down at his feet for a moment. The boy moved awkwardly, as if he was uncomfortable in his own skin.

It was then that brown eyes met Castiels, he looked at the tanned boy curiously before watching him mouth the word 'sorry'. Castiel figured it was on behalf of his brother.

Dean ruffled a free hand in Sam's hair just before they reached the shed they had gotten the axes from. Setting the wheel barrel down he slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and glanced at Castiel quickly, "I'll tell Ellen we're done," he said simply.

Castiel only nodded and watched him and his brother start walking in the direction of where Ellen was with Bobby, talking to some other C.I.T's.

He could just barely hear the last few sentences Sam and Dean exchanged before they were too far away.

"Dude, he really got you good, you're going to have a nasty shiner tomorrow." Sam pointed out, a bit of a chuckle in his voice.

"Yeah, I was damn surprised too. Dude can pack a punch." Dean replied laughing a little before he pulled an arm over Sam's shoulders.

Castiel couldn't help but smile a bit at that. Dusting his hands off on his cargo shorts he looked up to see Ash and Chuck approaching him with looks of shock on their faces.

"Hey man, we heard what happened, you alright?" Chuck asked once there were in speaking distance.

Castiel smiled and nodded to reassure them, "Yeah, I'm good."

Ash patted Castiel's shoulders roughly, "We also heard you punched the guy in the face!" Ash announced, enthused beyond all reason.

Shrugging his shoulders in response he smiled at the two of them. They seemed proud and that pleased Castiel incredibly.

For the rest of the evening until the fire pit the three of them played cards on the deck of their cabin, just passing the time until the event would start. Eventually a counsellor approached them and told them to meet up in the field next to the mess hall.

Right before they left, Castiel took a moment to lift his shirt and check if the now sore spot had any indication of what had been done. Sure enough, in the center of his rib cage there was a light shade of blue staining his pale skin. He sighed knowing it would only get darker and bigger.

"Jesus Christ, man, what kind of sick person is this guy?" Ash asked looking at the bruise forming on Castiel's ribs.

Castiel lowered his shirt, "He's got some anger in him, that's for sure." Castiel said to him as they started walking to the field.

After all the C.I.T's had gathered there, Bobby took on the task of explaining what they were doing. It was just a friendly camp fire so everyone could get to know each other, a nice ending note for the first day type of thing.

They were led down a dirt path that was somewhat uphill; it was then that they reached a clearing that was perched up on the top of a high hill that over looked a beautiful valley covered in a blanket of trees that swooped upwards on either side onto the steepness of the mountains that they were nestled between. The sky was still a very light orange colour at the edge of the horizon, just beyond one of the mountains, it faded into blue and then to black to the east. Tiny specks of light that were stars already visible, even the on-set of the purple haze that was the Milky Way was starting to make itself known.

Castiel took in a long breath, it was really gorgeous. Right on the top of the hill was a huge cement fire pit and three rows of benches circling the pit. There were torches lit at the open entrances of the benches and in a few spots around them too. It was a sight to behold.

The C.I.T's took up the first row of the circular benches with a few on the second. While the fire was getting started and people conversed among their friends all Castiel could do was look at the sky, it was simply sublime. Living in the city it's hard to get such a clear view of all the stars in the sky with all the light pollution.

Turning his head to get a look at some of the stars that weren't in his direct line of vision he noticed something at the corner of his eye. About five people down the bench, Dean too, was looking up at the sky, an unfitting solemn look on his face; he caught the light haired boy closing his eyes for a moment, long lashes brushing over his cheeks.

Castiel thought it quite nice to look at. The moment didn't last long and Dean opened his eyes catching Castiel staring he was motionless for a moment, his eyes calm at first but soon opened wider with some shock.

The smaller teen looked away, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment that he had been caught. He didn't mean to stare.

Once the fire had been started and the sky was completely dark John stood up and addressed the crowd.

"This here, tonight, is your formal welcome to the camp, we are all really pleased to have you here and we hope the summer goes off without a hitch." He said, his voice less intimidating then it had been the first time he spoke.

"To start off the night, I'd like you all to introduce yourselves, tell everyone your name, age, a talent, an interest and…your favourite song."

It all seemed a bit childish, but Castiel figured he had picked it up from dealing with the younger children all the years he had owned the camp. So they went with it and Castiel sitting on the edge of the bench was first, everyone quieted down to listen. Clearly the word had gotten around that he had punched Dean Winchester in the face.

Castiel met the gaze of some of the people looking at him before speaking up, "I'm Castiel, I'm 17. I suppose I'm pretty good at drawing, I very much enjoy reading and a favourite song might be, Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel," the other teens seemed to whisper and giggle amongst themselves over the new found information.

He felt Dean's eyes on him, but tried his best to shake the feeling, however uneasy it made him feel. Chuck and Ash went after Castiel had. Ash spoke of his love of computer games and programming and Chuck of his fondness of writing. A few other people went before Dean had his turn.

Castiel seemed to pay closer attention to this one. He looked at Dean with ease this time, knowing that all the other people would be looking at him also. The glow of the fire flickered and moved on his face, casting shadows over his rigid facial features.

"Dean Winchester, 18, I'm good with a gun, uhh, I guess I'm interested in the outdoors, that kind of stuff, and a song, it's a tie between Zep's Ramble On and Traveling Riverside Blues." Dean said with a crooked grin on his lips. Not exactly the most well-spoken young man.

Castiel saw that there were some confused looks on the faces of the other teens, likely because of his song choices; classic rock seemed to be something of an obscurity to teens in modern times, which to him was a bit of a shame. Castiel enjoyed a broad taste in music, but classic rock was definitely a favourite genre.

The night progressed with some cheesy camp fire songs and some funny stories from summers passed spoken from some of the counsellors and C.I.T's who had attended before.

It was a relatively blissful evening. However, the cool air and emptiness of the valley below them made Castiel ache with some home sickness. Missing his father and the comfort of his own home and his own friends, his book shelf and his desk covered in sketches. He looked into the fire, his vision blurring as his mind wandered. He missed Anna, he missed her so dearly. They spoke through letters mostly from the exotic and far off places where she was visiting and she did call whenever she had access to a phone, but it had been so long since he had seen her face. Those wide, bright eyes, her locks of long red hair and her comforting voice and touch. Anna had been Castiel's best friend since he was old enough to remember her. Thinking back to when she came into his room and told him she was leaving with her boyfriend to travel the world he was filled with sadness. He had always respected her need to travel, but there was no doubting it was difficult. He wondered if she missed him as much as he did her.

Suddenly it was louder than before, he looked up to see people standing up and readying to leave the fire pit. Shaking the previous thoughts from his mind he stood up also and filed off with the other to head back to the cabins. The path back was much darker now, flashlights being needed to see safely where they were headed.

Castiel was looking at his feet now as he walked, not really concerned with not being able to see where he was going as he was just following the people in front of him. His thoughts were beginning to drift again when he bumped into someone in front of him.

It was Dean with him arm wrapped around Jo's waist, the both looked back with quizzical expressions.

"Sorry," Castiel quickly apologized. It was genuine as it had been his fault in the first place. Jo was quick to dismiss it and turned back, but Dean's eyes lingered for a moment or two longer. Castiel didn't take too long to note it, afraid in the back of his mind that he might get a fist to the face in return to what he had done to Dean earlier today.

When Castiel looked back up they were both turned away again. Walking in unison, Jo let her head rest on Dean's shoulder. The image made Castiel fill with loneliness once more. It had been a long time since was able to hold someone like that. It must have been a year and half now since he had dated Amelia. He thought everything was going wonderfully until she cheated on him.

It seemed tonight his mind was going into episodes of sadness. He credited it to the fact that he was a long way off from home and both his father and sister were unreachable.

Before everyone returned to their cabins they were told that they would be woken up at 7:00 in the morning to start prepping for the arrival of the children. Castiel was a little bit a worried, he did like kids and enjoyed their innocence but he was nervous that they wouldn't take to him very well.

Finally they were all sent off to their respective cabins. Told to lock any food away in the bear bins and that counsellors would be by before lights out to make sure everything was in order.

Castiel, Ash, and Chuck went into their cabin and flicked on the light. Each of them quietly preparing their beds with their sleeping bags and extra blankets. Chuck started a small fire to warm the small building.

Castiel walked to the small water jug they had near the door of the cabin and poured some water into a paper cup. Stepping outside be brushed his teeth with the water, Chuck and Ash doing the same. They each used the outhouse before settling in. Castiel was contented and warm on the top bunk, he was propped up, his back against the wall with a book light illuminating the pages. Their light wasn't yet turned off, but it's wasn't exactly the brightest either.

There was a knock on the door and Gordon stepped in, looking at the young men in their beds. He didn't even say anything, just stared at them and the fire for a few moments before flicking off the lights and closing the door behind him. It really only seemed like he was making sure they weren't dead and that was all. They chuckled to each other at the oddness of the man.

Castiel put down his book next to him and shut off the little book light. Watching the way the shadows danced over the walls of the cabin from the fire. As he turned over in in his sleeping bag he felt the soreness of his scraped up shins and bruised rib cage.

He glowered for a moment, closing his eyes tightly while he found a comfortable position. Dean Winchester was a pain in the ass to say the least.