Hi. This is the last chapter of what I've written so far that's actually pieced together in chronological order and edited and stuff so the next part may be a little while off. I've got most of it written, just need to put it in an order that makes sense. In the meantime, enjoy!

Chapter 3

The next few days pass in relative peace and boredom. Dean does his best to stay away from Gordon, but it's hard to ignore the purposefully loud whispers that pass between him and his friends every time Dean is anywhere near them. Dean doesn't know how Castiel has put up with it all these years without snapping and punching the dick bag in the face. When he expresses as much to his roommate, Castiel reminds him that not everyone is violent by nature. But there's a certain glimmer in his eyes as he says it that makes Dean think that maybe, just once or twice, Castiel has wanted to punch Gordon very much. The next day in U.S History, Dean can't help it if he just happens to stick his foot in the middle of the aisle as Gordon walks up to sharpen his pencil any more than he can help the loud curse Gordon lets out when he stumbles, or the three sharp raps on the knuckles the teacher gives him for using the lord's name in vain. Gordon says nothing but gives Dean a silent glare which Dean answers with a smile. When they are alone Castiel tells Dean that he shouldn't have done it but his eyes are grateful and Dean doesn't apologize.

By the time Thursday rolls around Dean is almost painfully anxious to leave campus. He's sitting at dinner with Sam and Ash, who are complaining to Dean and each other about how unfair it is that only seniors are allowed to leave on weekends.

"It's because they don't think we'll be able to handle the responsibility of our homework if we have actual things to do," Sam complains. "But Dean, you're a senior, and you probably haven't done a single homework assignment all year."

"Hey," Dean protests, helping himself to more macaroni and cheese. "I'll have you know that I studied for a history test last night, and I'm pretty that sure I got at least a D on it."

"YOU studied for a test?" says Sam, jaw dropping dramatically. "I gotta say, Dean, this roommate of yours must either be really boring or a really good positive influence if you've resorted to studying for fun. Remind me to congratulate him if I ever finally meet him." He's right, of course, Castiel is completely to thank for the fact that Dean even so much as looked at his U.S History book. The night before the test they spent an hour quizzing each other which is literally more than Dean has studied in his entire high school career. It was painful and Dean complained more than he probably should have but Castiel was so persistent and enthusiastic about the subject as well as Dean's success that he couldn't bring himself to say "fuck this" and walk away like he would whenever Sam would try and get him to study. And it actually felt kind of good knowing some of the answers on the test.

"Shut up and eat your macaroni," he says.

Dean doesn't know why Castiel never seems to be in the cafeteria during meals, and he never thinks to ask him. But it really bothers Sam, who for some reason is dying to meet him.

"So what are your plans for the weekend?" Ash asks Dean conversationally. He sounds a little bit resentful that Dean gets to go off campus and he doesn't, though Dean recognizes that that all might be an act. The kid has a stash of beer in his room and Dean wouldn't put it past him to know exactly how to go off campus without getting caught. The thought makes him uneasy, but hey, what can he do?

"I haven't really thought about it," Dean says honestly. "What is there to do around here?"

"There's a mall," Ash says thoughtfully. "A few restaurants, a movie theatre, bowling alley, you know. Nothing to pee your pants over but better than this place."

"Aw, don't sound so glum," Dean says. "You've got a library here, what more could you nerds want?" Ash and Sam give him identical looks of annoyance and Dean finds himself stuck between wanting to laugh and being extremely weirded out by the fact that out of the hundreds of students at this school, his brother somehow ended up rooming with the one who can do the bitchface.

Dean returns that night to an empty dorm and the sound of the shower running. He pulls out his laptop and checks his e-mail for the first time all week. There's nothing, of course. Dean doesn't ever talk to people through e-mail- the only people who even have his address are Sam, John, and a few distant ex-flings who were about as likely to email Dean as they were to spontaneously grow a second head. Still, every now and then, when their dad's away and Dean gets lonely, he checks. Just to see. There was a time when John would forward them things, funny pictures, jokes, amusing chain letters. Sometimes they would even come with a little personal attachment about how much he missed them or couldn't wait to see them again. Now there's nothing. Dean pulls up a game of solitaire.

He's almost got it beat when Castiel steps out of the shower wrapped in a towel. Dean tries not to make a big deal about it, looks back at the laptop screen with a renewed fascination. They're roommates, he tells himself. They're both straight(ish?) men, and it's okay for them to see each other shirtless or towel-clad or whatever without it being the scandal of the century. And god, Dean really needs to get laid because he is not feeling what he thinks he is feeling right now, and if he is it's because he's lusting after the queen of hearts on the laptop screen for some goddamn reason because he sure as hell knows it's not Castiel his dick is reacting to.

Castiel doesn't seem perturbed in the least and grabs his clothes off his bed before slipping back into the bathroom to change. Dean takes the opportunity to google the least sexually appealing thing he can think of, which apparently is bunions, and then he feels like he's going to throw up but hey, at least he's in no danger of having a boner.

When Castiel comes back, he's fully clothed in the same worn blue pajama pants and grey t-shirt he always wears to bed. He drops his towel into the laundry hamper before climbing silently into his bed. That's something Dean has really learned to appreciate about Castiel over the past week that he's lived with him, the guy's quiet. He's capable of conversation, yeah. Actually, given the proper subject he's not bad at it. But he doesn't blab about shit that doesn't mean anything just to fill the silence. Dean thinks if just a few more people in the world shared this trait, things would be a lot better. Maybe it would even help fix the global warming problem or something, what with the reduced CO2 levels and all. But Dean's not a scientist. Mostly he just likes it to be quiet sometimes.

"So what are your plans for tomorrow?" Dean asks. Castiel stares at the ceiling.

"Class, homework, reading. The usual," he says, voice monotone.

"Wait, seriously?" says Dean. He looks at Castiel's face and, yep, he's serious alright. He doesn't even seem upset about the fact that he has no life. He's resigned to it, probably has been for a while. It strikes a chord in Dean, and all of a sudden he feels like it's his duty to get the guy out of the dorm for the weekend.

"Yes. The novelty of the outside world wears off surprisingly quickly. I am mostly content to remain within the campus."

"The novelty of the- Jesus Christ, Cas, your perception of the world is totally fucked," Dean says. Castiel doesn't even wince at the use of the lord's name in vain. Some priest he'll be.

"No, Dean, it isn't. I simply have exhausted all possible pass-times within reasonable walking distance from the school and they no longer amuse me."

"Well what about the movies?" says Dean. "Those change every week, can't get tired of those." Castiel turns away from him, staring at the wall.

"I… I have never seen a movie," he says quietly.

"Wait, like. Never?"

"That is what I said."

"Don't get sassy with me. I just. I can't. You've really never seen a movie? How is that even possible? Were you raised by potatoes?" Castiel finally turns his gaze to Dean again and he looks confused.

"I don't think that potatoes would be able to provide for a child for very long," he says. Dean's mouth twitches but he's too stunned to smile.

"God, Cas. That's weird. You gotta know that's weird."

"I am aware that my cultural knowledge is lacking," Castiel says slowly. "The other boys at this school never miss an opportunity to point it out to me."

"Well I guess it's my duty as your roommate and a normal American consumer to educate you then," Dean says with finality. "I'm taking you to a movie tomorrow."

"I can't," says Castiel. He rolls onto his back and stares forlornly at the ceiling. "I don't have any money."

"Don't worry about it," says Dean as he climbs under the covers. They're pleasantly cold against his skin and he nestles in happily. "I've got it covered."

Normally, Dean would feel weird about spending his dad's money on anyone other than Sam, including himself. Now, he can't wait to do it. His dad's decision to leave his sons for his job had been accompanied by an apologetic increase in the boys' allowances. Dean just wants it gone. It had been a sad attempt to fix something that could never be fixed, and the money is more than burning a hole in Dean's pocket. It makes him sick.

Castiel never replies, and eventually Dean falls asleep.

"So explain to me exactly how you have never seen a movie before," Dean says in between bites of his bacon cheeseburger. It's the first really satisfactorily greasy meal Dean's had in what feels like ages. The food at Our Lady of the Stars is actually pretty tasty, but it's way too healthy for Dean. He wipes the grease off his face with a dingy paper napkin while Castiel watches in awe.

"I don't understand, what about the situation would you like me to clarify?"

"I mean, you say you've basically lived at that school your whole life, and then you say you've never seen a movie? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to though. I just… you can. If you want." And the weird thing is, Dean really wants to know.

"Oh," Castiel says, realization dawning on his face. "I was raised by nuns."

"What."

"I forget sometimes that there's not a sign that says it on my forehead. It's what everyone here knows me as, 'the kid who was raised by nuns.' Among other things, of course."

"You seem so normal though. I mean, you're weird, but not raised-by-nuns weird," Dean says, and he immediately regrets it when he sees Castiel's face darken. He picks up his sandwich and picks at it self-consciously. "Cas, I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I like that you're weird." He doesn't know why he says it but he knows as soon as he does that it's true. Castiel's strange, foreign behavior oddly enough is one of the reasons why Dean can tolerate his constant presence when living in such close quarters with anyone else (other than Sam) would drive him completely batshit.

Castiel scrutinizes Dean's face, head tilted, as if he's unsure whether or not Dean is telling the truth. Then he looks down at his plate.

"They found me in the confession booth one morning, screaming at the top of my lungs. I was two months old, and ever since then I've lived at Our Lady of the Stars. Nuns deny themselves the luxuries most kids take for granted and consequently I never had them either. No television, no movies, no videogames. It never used to bother me because I didn't know what I was missing. I had the nuns, and the bible, and God. For a while that was enough. It wasn't until I was five and I started going to school that I realized how different I was, and how much of the world would always be closed off to me, and how much the other kids resented me for it. Even then I knew I was going to grow up and become a priest, because what other choice was there? What place could there be for me outside of the church when half the time I had no idea what my peers were talking about? I can never be normal." When Castiel stops talking Dean realizes it's the most he's ever heard him say. And as weird as it is, as opposite as their lives are, Castiel having never left one place his entire life and Dean having never stayed in one for more than a year, Dean thinks he's never had more in common with another person. He doesn't say that, though. Instead he says,

"Do you want to be a preist?"

And Castiel doesn't. Dean can see it in his face and in the way Castiel tells him all about what's expected of him and how this is his calling and how important this is to the nuns without ever really answering the question. Dean just nods and eats his cheeseburger, thinking about all the things Castiel will never get to do. He knows it's none of his business, but Dean's never really been the best at minding his own.

Castiel likes the movie perhaps a little too much. It had been an actually pretty good psychological thriller that makes the audience think at the same time that it offers substantial eye candy of every flavor. It wasn't anything that was going to win any Oscars, but with no basis for comparison, it was the best movie Castiel has ever seen.

He spends the entire walk back to the school going on and on about theories and symbolism within the film, like an overexcited toddler who also happens to be an English professor. Dean likes movies, and he likes to talk about movies, but he never thought it was possible to think this much into things. It would be annoying if it wasn't so goddamn adorable. Dean just smiles as Castiel jabbers on, occasionally throwing in a word or two. Mostly, he's just thrilled to see Castiel excited about something. Until now he didn't think it possible.

"It was just like reading a book, except obviously it didn't require as much intellectual stimulus. But in ways it was almost better, strangely," Castiel says, coming down finally from his excited rant.

"Almost?" says Dean, who never really got into reading.

"I just can't believe this entire media of art has been around my whole life, unexplored. There is so much I must see. How many are there?"

"How many movies? God, Cas, thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Most of them basically suck though."

"How do I watch them?"

"Well, I can get pretty much anything on my laptop," Dean says, starting to get excited too. "We could start watching them, you know, at night, after homework is done. I'm no film critic but I know what's good and what's not, and the basic, you know, Wizard of Oz, the Godfather, Star Wars, Pulp Fiction. Okay yeah. Yeah, this is happening. Starting tonight."

They get back to the school just as dinner is being served in the cafeteria. Dean sort of regrets his decision not to swing by that burger joint and grab some greasy nutrition on their way back. But he only has so much money, and while he's certain that John would be more than happy to wire him some more whenever he wants, that's phone call he really doesn't want to make. Not yet, anyway. When they near the cafeteria though, Castiel slows his pace.

"I have to go," he says, veering off to the right. "I will see you back at the dorms." Dean nods. So he was right about Castiel never eating in the cafeteria. But why? He has this awful image in his mind of Castiel sitting in one of the school bathrooms alone with a tray of food in his lap, like Cady Heron in Mean Girls.

Mean Girls, that's another one they'd have to watch eventually, though Dean fears that most of the humor would be lost on Castiel. The mystery as to his roommate's whereabouts slips from his mind as she contemplates what more they should watch tonight, and the next night, and the next…

Dean tries to steer away from chick flicks at first. The first week, he shows Castiel the Godfather, which he likes, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, which he finds secretly amusing while outwardly scorning the behavior of the characters, and several Tarantino films, which Castiel isn't sure what to think about but he keeps watching them anyway. But by Thursday, Dean can't deny that he's depriving his roommate of some truly classic films by avoiding the ones with less than adequate levels of testosterone. So they watch the Sound of Music, which Dean has always secretly loved, and hey, there's nothing girly about Nazis. He doesn't even think about how much it applies to Castiel's life until the movie is over and his roommate is absolutely silent, the look on his face about 1000 miles away.

"So… did you like it?" Dean asks cautiously. They're in their usual movie-watching positions—in Castiel's bed, backs against the headboard, with Dean's laptop angled toward them from its position up on the desk. Dean crawls over his roommate to hit the pause button on the laptop, rousing Castiel from his trance.

"It was very good," he says. "Different from everything else we've watched. I… feel an attachment to the character of Maria. I feel she and I have much in common."

"How so?" Dean asks, though he's pretty much figured it out. He saw the parallels himself as they were watching the movie.

"Well… she's a postulant."

"A what?"

"She's not yet a nun, but she is to become one, as I am to become a priest. And all she seems able to do is cause trouble. She doesn't mean to, and she wishes to take her holy orders very seriously, but she has… doubts. And then she meets the Von Trapp family and…" Castiel trails off momentarily. "And suddenly her life has a purpose. And it's not within the church." Dean considers this for a while.

"You don't have to become a priest, Cas," he says. "You shouldn't, if that's not what you want." Dean feels the hypocrisy in the words as he says them and he feels almost guilty for it. Maybe he's not sworn to priesthood, but he's pretty much in the same boat as Castiel, as Maria. His dad's already got a job lined up for him, and Dean can't see a single way out. Only a few months now before he graduates to join the exciting world of travelling sales, whether he wants to or not. And he doesn't. He's tried to tell himself that it doesn't matter, that he'd be just as happy (or unhappy) doing anything else, but now he knows it's a lie. The damned profession ruined his childhood and replaced his father with a distant stranger. But he just can't see himself doing anything about it. "You just need to find your Von Trapp family."

"Yes," Castiel says with a small smile and a tilt of the head that pokes Dean in the soul. "I suppose I do."