Chapter 6

Imaginary Ailment

From the firm fingers of fear, Cas, Gabriel, and the Masters were delivered. Despite the fact that Lucifer was still missing, they were no longer worried. The span of four weeks since his disappearance, coupled with the fact that nothing bad occurred may have lulled them into a false sense of security. Or perhaps it wasn't false. If anything, the air seemed lighter than it had ever been. The sun shone in shades brighter than normal. Emerging eagerly from the earth came tendrils of flowers, grasses, and shrubs. For it was spring! The land sighed as if relieved of some great burden.

Even Cas, who worried enough for three, was relaxed. Was it the warmth in the air? Maybe it was the earthy smell of the dirt that squished under his bare feet. Perhaps even the rain that pattered up and down the street, kicking up the scent of petrichor, had loosened the alveoli in Cas's tight lungs. The freshness and the sunlight had dusted out Cas's brain, and the very season seemed to infuse itself in his step.

Cas had established a new routine. The first few days had been terrifyingly different, and Cas felt that if he took one step in any direction that he would spiral off into some dark void that was about as friendly as a rhinoceros being forced into a tutu. Just thinking about deviating from his routine made Cas's entire existence wonky. His writing seemed to lose structure, and his literary devices suffered noticeably. His drawings portrayed more fear, slashed with chilly colors and screaming about shapes with keen edges and sharp contrasts.

Over the weeks, Cas kept a cool eye on Dean. He was careful to keep an emotional berth around him. That exterior was joking and somewhat kind, but who knew what sort of creature burned beneath his mask? A demon who waited with an evil sneer on its twisted face? Or an angel, who gave upon the world a bright and beautiful grace? Cas sat with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Too many times had Cas opened himself up to someone, only to be crushed. He would never subject himself to such pain again, not until he knew for sure he would come out of the relationship unscathed.

Gradually, Cas's arms began to fall to his sides, and his eyes opened a crack. Dean had weaved himself a place in the Truman High tapestry. After the first normal days of suspicion from the other students, Dean found himself to be surrounded by a troupe of admirers. He was laid back, and very likeable. He worked a spell on everyone in the vicinity; though he had a sharp tongue, he was still kind. Cas knew a spell when he saw one, and had shot back a defensive counter jinx. Little by little, however, Dean proved to be too much. Cas had lowered his shield, though not all the way.

How could he not? Dean had proved to be a gentle person. Had he not stood up for Cas, when no one but Meg had done so previously?

It wasn't often that Cas got picked on. The chances of him being teased increased tenfold when Meg was not present. Cas was not accustomed to violence, and never in Truman High history had he broken his calm and quiet demeanor. He was quiet, and had an aura of softness. He hated eye contact, and walked with a hurried, nervous gait. In other words, he acted like prey.

Meg had been absent one day, a rare occurrence. Dean had snagged Cas by the tree before he had a chance to head inside alone.

"Hey, where's Meg?" He had asked, running fingers through his disheveled hair. He smirked at Cas, his fox like teeth piercing the darkness of his mouth like spears.

Cas nodded at those teeth. "She's sick," He said. Meg herself hadn't personally told Cas, but he knew her calendar. It wasn't worth working himself up worrying at this time, when the moon was at its brightest. Meg was usually absent around this time, and Cas felt exceedingly grateful that he didn't have to suffer the same few days every month.

Thus, Dean and Cas were by themselves. They walked to class together, and both were kind of relieved that Meg wasn't bickering with Dean or anyone else who wronged her. Meg's aggression was a nuisance sometimes, especially when Cas had to break up potential fights. Cas hated breaking potential fights. Which was why he didn't tell Gabriel that he had had a good day when he returned home from work.

Cas and Dean were walking to lunch, stopping off at their lockers to grab books for their afternoon classes. They had plenty of time; no cared that students were late to lunch. Their loss, really. The hallway was gradually thinning out, the blood cells of the school rushing to their assigned places. Cas knelt down beside his locker, and was mildly surprised when Dean sat down beside him. He watched as Cas put in his combination.

As Cas opened his locker, Dean said "23-41-4,"

At first, Cas was confused, but he soon caught on, and grinned at him. "Not even close, Dean," He chirped, pulling out his chemistry binder and placing it on the floor beside Dean.

Dean hissed. "Nah-ah, you're lying," He said, picking up Cas's binder and playing with the corner. His eyes were on Cas, as if waiting for a reaction. Always with the grin! The grin was a huge portion of his spell work.

"You can try after I shut my locker. I can assure you that you're wrong," Cas said, laughing as he did so. His smile lit up his face like a dream.

Dean beamed at Cas, closing his eyes as he did so.

But that beam faded quickly as a sneer faintly pierced Cas's laugh.

"Hah, faggots!" muttered a small boy, probably a freshman, with greasy, dark hair and malicious, beady eyes. His eyes darted over to his equally shady looking friend, and they sniggered as they went past.

Cas stopped smiling, but continued to pull binders out of his locker. He was used to being called all number of names, 'faggot' being only one of so many. Cas had learned that he could do nothing about it. To display annoyance or hurt at being called such things only caused pleasure in the hecklers. So he decided to ignore it, and by ignore he meant he would dwell on it as he tried to sleep at night. Thus was life when one suffered from anxiety.

Cas's eyes flew open in alarm as he saw a blur of plaid as Dean leaped to his feet. Cas's feet scrabbled on the ground as he tried to get to his feet to prevent an argument. His eyes were fixed on Dean. His anger was a sight to behold.

In a few precious seconds, Cas saw the shadow of Anger fill up Dean's eyes. It was as if the entity had lifted Dean a few inches off the ground, for the teen towered higher than he ever did. Pure hatred radiated off him in fiery waves, and Cas knew instantly that his friend was near homicidal. The demon inside Cas cheered, egging Dean on, begging for the hecklers' demise.

"Hey!" Dean growled, and he strode with fearsome confidence at the boys, who looked like mere ants beside him. An image of a lion with an amulet strung around his mane stalking star struck hyenas with greasy head fur and baggy sweatpants flashed in Cas's mind. He would have liked to look at the image longer, but he pushed the thought away. He tripped over his backpack in an effort to race after his friend. "Dean!" he called, untangling his foot.

The boys had paused, sneers still on their faces. Those sneers faltered when they saw Dean, fueled with fiery fury, stalking towards them, his hands clamped tightly into fists. They took a step back, eyes swiveling back and forth.

Dean stalked right up to them, his face shadowed, his head many inches above the tallest boy. The lion pulled a Mufasa, and roared above them. Cas shook his brain again. "You want to say that to us again?!" Dean snarled, his eyes twitching.

Cas had finally caught up to them. "Dean, stop!" He shouted, his voice soaked in more fear than anger. He saw a fluttery hornbill with a sweater and glasses fly up in his mind, wings pumping frantically. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing it as hard as he could.

The taller of the two boys cackled. His eyes flickered with a lust to shame and mock. "Oh that's adorable. Look at your boyfriend, getting all flustered." He cooed, his teeth yellow as he laughed. His friend joined in, his tone laced with malice.

"What are you, stupid?!" Cas hissed, his eyes huge. He wasn't sure if he was talking to Dean or the kids, because dear God! Why would you want to infuriate this guy?!

Dean wrenched his shoulder away, leaving Cas's fingers to squeeze at thin air. Within two seconds, he had slammed the kid against the wall, his teeth and snarl within inches from his nose. Cas heard the kid's spine pop, and his head smack sickeningly against the tiled wall. The kid looked terrified now. Good! He'd better be! Screamed Cas in his head. Part of him wanted to slam the other kid against the water fountain, but…what was he thinking?!

Cas had to strain his ears to hear what Dean was saying, and he was glad he made the effort.

"You insult him in front of me, and this faggot will smash your brains in." He hissed, his words turning into an ugly growl. Cas could see his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he crushed the kid beneath the wall. The kid squeaked, as if to confirm Cas's suspicions that Dean was in fact smothering him.

With a jolt, Cas leapt into action.

"Dean! Let him go!" He barked, grabbing at Dean's shoulder, and yanking as hard as he could. He nearly lost his footing as Dean stumbled backwards, reluctantly releasing the kid's shirt. Cas wasn't sure who looked more terrified, the kid or his friend. Seeing them so scared of Dean made a warm sense of…pride well inside him. Or was it something else?

Dean glowered at the kids. "Get out of here! Now!" He roared, advancing forward once more.

Laughing their heads off, the kids sprinted down the hallway.

Dean watched them go, breathing heavily, and was startled when a heavy force yanked him down a hallway he knew was a dead end, and only had a janitor's closet. He grunted as Cas pressed him against the wall, the smaller boy glaring up at him, his eyes blazing with sapphire fire. Dean's eyebrows raised in alarm as he felt the unexpected power in Cas's arms. He looked at that inferno in his eyes, bewilderment splattered on his features. "The hell are you doing, Cas?" Dean hissed.

"I could ask you the same thing! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Cas snarled. He quickly pushed up his glasses, which had become lopsided on their adventure. His breath came in bellows through his nose like an infuriated bull, and his mouth was tight. His eyes seemed a darker shade of blue.

Dean was nonplussed. "Um, defending you?" He said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. He gripped Cas's wrists and gave a push that made him wonder why he was even trying.

"I don't need defense, Dean! I get that all the time! It never bothers me!" Cas hissed, his eyes still burning. Dean was really wondering where Cas stored all of that strength. It was a strange sensation flowing through him.

Dean breathed out sharply as he broke free of his daze. "…People have called you that before?!" He demanded, his eyes beginning to burn as well. Eyes a darker shade than normal glared at one another for a few precious moments.

Cas sighed sharply, and decided to let Dean go. His arms fell to his side in a defeated gesture. If he was a cat, his fur would no longer bristle, and his ears would raise.

"Of course. How else would I know how to react properly?" He murmured, not looking at Dean.

"You call doing nothing reacting properly?" Dean asked, amazed

"You call screaming in the hallway and smashing a kid against a wall reacting properly?" Cas shot back.

Dean looked amazed. "Yes, I do. Cas, that's what we call harassment." He said.

"Is it harassment if it's tr-" Cas started hotly, but he cut himself off. A blush radiated on his cheeks, and he glowered at Dean, as if he had been the one to call him a faggot.

"Is it harassment is it's what?" Dean pressed.

Cas just shook his head wearily. "Nothing, Dean. Just…Just don't start a fight because of me, OK? I appreciate your loyalty…I don't know why you would do such a thing just because someone called me a faggot…" Cas murmured.

Dean stared at Cas incredulously. "He called us both faggots, Cas." He reminded him.

Cas blinked. "Both?" He asked.

Dean ignored him. "And you're my friend, Cas. Friends keep an eye out for one another." He said, his cheeks tinted pink. He swallowed, and turned the corner to retrieve his duffel.

Cas fluttered after him, his face flustered and confused.

"He called you a faggot?!" He huffed as he reached his locker, finding Dean leaning against the cold metal with a hand over his eyes.

"Yeah, Cas. That's don't matter; he was being a bigot, and damn right I smashed him against a wall," Dean growled.

Cas gulped. "Dean, are you-"

"Drop it, Cas," Dean hissed, his voice laced with smoking venom.

Cas's eyes and the subject fell to the floor. He never brought it up again.

Cas had huffed in acceptance as Dean smashed his way into his life. Besides, how many friends would do such a thing for him? Soon, he settled back with enjoyment as Dean continued to joke and laugh in his life. Though he trusted Dean, his trust in Dean was nowhere near as strong as his trust in Meg.

Cas smiled as he thought about his new friend, and thicker became his artist's block. Before him sat an incomplete sketch and a slack pencil.

Petrichor wafted in from a window propped open with an action figurine. It had been raining all day, and neither Cas nor Meg felt the desire to go outside. It was a day cloaked in a thick sheet of clouds, and even though it was three in the afternoon, it looked to be at least six. The pair were content enough to just bask in the cool dampness of the air circulating in Meg's room. It was Saturday. Cas had worked a morning shift, and Meg didn't have work until six. Lazing about felt nice. The pair didn't even need to talk; their very presence was enough.

Meg was on her stomach on her bed, a laptop in front of her, her face bathed in eerie, fluorescent light. Cas was sitting at the desk positioned at the foot of the bed, a pencil scratching the drawing pad that groaned in pleasure. His fingertips were dusky from shading his sketch. Rubbing the stubble that was coating his cheek already (he had shaved this morning), he tilted his head to inspect every angle of his drawing. He grimaced.

Meanwhile, Meg had turned up the volume of her laptop. She knew the expression on his face; he was dissatisfied with his artwork. Listening to music always steered him on the right path. She could only imagine putting in so much effort into to something, only to end up hating it.

"What kind of picture?" She asked, looking over her red laptop and peering at Cas. He was stroking the stubble on his jaw, his bottom lip jutted out. His eyebrow raised and lowered in repetition.

He looked down at the paper to check. "Um…Sort of…Majestic…?" He said, shrugging as a sheepish grin tugged at his mouth.

Meg smiled. "OK. Majestic music, coming right up."

"You'd best not 'Rickroll' me again,"

Meg looked offended. "It was the most majestic thing I could think of."

Cas snorted, shook his head, and returned to his drawing. "Or, Tumblr is getting to you. Why did you let Abaddon get you into that hell?" He asked.

Meg shrugged, peering at her screen once more. "I don't know. We were dating. You do shit to please your significant other, Cas," She said, her keyboard clacking.

"Sounds difficult," Cas said with sympathy. He had little idea as to what she was talking about.

"You'd be pretty good at it, though." Meg said, hitting one final key.

Cas leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry?" He asked.

Meg grinned as quick music poured out of her laptop. Propping it up with a thin book to better release the sound, she looked at Cas once more.

"I mean, you don't have a special friend like that, but you'd be good at it. That's what I meant." She said, grinning more as familiar music mingled with the cool air.

Cas shook his head as he recognized the tune. The only reasons why Meg liked it was because it was by her favorite band and bank tellers were mentioned in it. However, Cas got a bit worried because the bank tellers had their banks robbed in the song, and he wasn't sure if Meg was planning illegal shenanigans. Either way, he had to admit, it was putting him in an artistic mood.

Meg started lip-syncing the song, wiggling her arms and feet in an attempt to dance as she lay on the bed. Put on your war paint! She cried, pretending to smear paint on her cheeks as she flipped onto her back.

"I'd be good at having a special friend? Don't you mean…" He said, and he swallowed uncomfortably. He shifted in his seat, looking back at his drawing, a battle raging in his mind.

He jumped as Meg leapt up. She was in one of those moods, he guessed. He knew the feeling; that little twinge in the throat, that chilled desire to burst out into song. Just now that cold liquid want was tickling his vocal cords. He knew the words to the song as well as any song. He too enjoyed singing along, and Meg found that he was physically capable of doing so. She knew Cas would never sing, not if people were in the house. Fortunately for them, Mr. Masters was out with a few friends, and Mrs. Masters and Ruby were out clothes shopping.

Turning up the music louder, Meg watched as the spring air seduced the nervous, quiet Cas, and released this bird that sang with the strength of voice of a raven, and the sweetness of a sparrow. Meg always liked listening to Cas's rich tenor voice. Within minutes his feet were propped up on the desk, his torso leaned over the back of the chair, and he sang at the ceiling, his teeth bared into a grin. Her somewhat-out-of-key-but-we're-not-going-to-say-anything alto and his tenor worked well together, and over time they had created a natural harmony.

Weaving through the rain, lyrics and pure comfort echoed.

"Hey young blood! Doesn't it feel, like our time is running out?" They crowed together, smiling and laughing between breaths. Cas looked over at Meg, and initiated the call and response. This was Meg's favorite song, so they had sang it many times. "I'm gonna change you,"

"Like a remix," Meg pealed out, her arms hailing the ceiling.

"And I'll raise you," Cas crooned.

Together they sang "Like a Phoenix!"

Next came an impersonation of orchestral music, which was where they broke into fitful laughter and somewhat gross snorts. At this time, Meg had slid off the bed and was laughing on the floor, and Cas was thrusting his chair back and forth, holding his stomach and wiping back tears of laughter.

What was there to worry about? He was alive with his best friend, and not even the dreary drizzle outside could dampen their spirits. Looking up at Meg upside down as he leaned over his chair, Cas purred in happiness. She had come to stand behind him, and was poking his stubbly cheeks. Smiling in adoration, she squished the dimples that appeared on his face, like dents in cream.

Cas grabbed Meg's arms, which were drumming on his forehead, and swung them all around. "Meg!" He said, looking up into a face that wasn't listening.

Meg continued to dance around, letting Cas swing her arms in any direction he pleased.

"Meg! Meg, Meg, Meg, Meeeegggggg…" Cas whined, his voice going up in pitch.

Meg continued to sing and dance around, too absorbed in the song.

"The war is won, before it's begun," Cas could feel Meg dancing and she began to swing his arms to the beat of the music.

"Meg, Meg, Megan Masters…"

"Release the doves, surrender love!"

"I have a girlfriend," Cas said, trying to capture Meg's attention.

"The war is won, before it's begun…"

Cas hissed in frustration, and in pain as Meg yanked his shoulders nearly out of their sockets. Taking a breath, he said.

"I have a boyfriend."

At once, Meg stopped swinging his arms. Looking down at the frightened face before her, she blinked. Clapping his hands together to the beat of the Phoenix and rapidly speeding up, she bared her teeth into an excited grin.

"What?! It's Dean, isn't it? Please tell me it's Dean." She said, clapping his hands so hard that they hurt. She had an insane gleam in her eye. His hands were turning pink.

She watched in glee as a furious blush blossomed in her friend's cheeks. His brow furrowed, and his eyes bulged, his jaw jutting out and his lips protruding. She felt his grip on her arms grow stronger.

"What?! No!" He said in a voice that involuntarily went up an octave. He took his arms away, and sat up. Ferociously, he pushed up his glasses, turning in his seat to glare at Meg more. "I was only kidding, so I could get your attention!...I don't like men!" He growled in the voice he used when he was embarrassed. It was so easy to see past his defense.

Meg looked disappointed, tapping his head once in dejection.

Cas stood up, and furiously tousled his own hair until he look disheveled and angry. Meg found his anger to be adorable, and she smirked. She skipped off to her laptop. Then again, she had never seen Cas angry before. Slight annoyance was one thing; pure anger was something Meg just couldn't associate Cas with. Not Cas! Never!

"What are you smirking at?!" Cas demanded, and Meg heard him push his chair under his desk.

"Oh nothing, Clarence," Meg said cheerfully, and she flopped down on the bed, smiling at Cas from lying on her back. She crossed her ankles and folded her arms behind her head, beaming at Cas with an expression that said she knew something that he didn't.

Cas stood over her, watching in annoyance as her face smirked cheekily. He was squinting, and Meg knew he was doing some quick thinking.

"…Why would you want it to be Dean?" He asked quietly, in a tentative voice.

Meg snorted, scratching her stomach absently. "Because you'd be good for each other." She said, nodding her head in agreement of her own cliché words.

Cas, who had been looking at his toes, shot her the blank look he shot people whenever he was having an intense internal struggle.

"But Dean…he's…he's a…guy," Cas whispered, poking Meg's cheek.

Meg sat up, pulling her laptop onto her lap. She looked up at Cas in consternation. "Point being?" She asked, typing on her keyboard as she continued to look at Cas. So good was she at typing she didn't need to look at the keyboard or pay any attention to what she was typing.

Cas jerked his shoulders in a shrug, and smiled. His hair fell over his forehead, and he looked down to shove his hands into his pockets. His jaw outlined in the lamplight behind him, he looked even cuter when he blushed. Still in a teller's uniform, his blue tie reflected his blue eyes, and Meg would be damned if she didn't say whoever found their significant other in Cas was one lucky son of a bitch.

The strange thing was that Meg never felt that way towards Cas. She never felt attracted to Cas in any way. Anyone asking Meg whether or not she was attracted to Cas was like someone asking Meg if she was attracted to her own brother. Dating was simply unthinkable and a hilarious thought to the friends.

Which was why the way they reacted to Dean's question was perfectly reasonable.

Cas, Meg, and Dean were all sitting at their lunch table. Dean and Meg had their feet on the table, talking to one another about sports as Cas hunched over his drawing pad. Dean always wondered what he was working on. Always scribbling on that damned thing! Every time Dean ever got near him, Cas moved his hand. It wasn't even a voluntary movement anymore. Cas just naturally angled himself away from prying eyes.

However, that day, Meg leaned back in her chair. "Whatcha drawing, Clarence?" She asked, smiling sweetly.

Cas had angled himself away again, the shadow of his right palm covering his drawing. Dean saw him grin slightly, and he held up his drawing. Dean was sitting on Cas's right, so he couldn't see the drawing he was pointing at Meg on the left.

"I like it," Meg said, frustratingly revealing not a single detail. Dean saw Cas's head bow in modesty. His profile was outlined in the shadows of the broken light above their heads. Even in the shadows, Dean saw Cas blush.

"You're adorable, Clarence," Meg said, tousling his hair, Cas batting at her lightly. Suddenly, Dean could take it no longer.

"Are you guys dating or something?! It's been drivin' me nuts for…since I got here!" Dean snapped suddenly, annoyance sparking in his tone.

Meg and Cas gawked at Dean, but only for a second. They then turned to gawk at one another, and Dean saw Meg's face crease into a smile. Suddenly, they both roared in laughter. Cas's pearly teeth clawed at the shadows, and his tenebrous hair seemed to melt into the surroundings. His Adam's apple bounced up and down in merriment. Dean blinked, confused.

"Geez, how many times have we been asked that, Clarence?" Meg squeaked between giggles, looking at Dean with shining eyes.

"Oh, an innumerable amount of times," Cas replied, shocking Dean by putting his feet on the table. It took Dean a moment to realize how large Cas's feet were. He always imagined Cas to be, well, small. They were nearly as large as Dean's own feet. He shook his head, clearing his mind.

"What?!" He spluttered, confused.

Cas began to explain before Meg did. "People always think we're dating. Frankly, the question has become wearing. We should give out FAQ pamphlets," He said, pausing. Meg took up the line.

"We got a…whatchamacallit, Clarence? You got a fancy name for it…" Meg said, snapping her fingers and staring at Cas blankly, trying to recall a word that perched teasingly like a fledgling on the tip of her tongue.

"Queerplatonic relationship. It means, like, a strong bond sort of abnormal for friends but there isn't anything romantic or sexual going on," Cas explained, looking at Dean with shining blue eyes. His warm expression and smooth movements calmed Dean down instantly. He found himself to be smiling too, as if Castiel was pouring a bucket of warm liquid the color of his eyes down his throat. It was a great sensation.

Meg grinned as the memory, as well as an idea, stole across her mind. She heard the faint grumble of a hungry tummy.

"I'm hungry." Cas whined in a demanding tone. He hadn't eaten anything since the cherry lollipops they had at the bank. He poked Meg in the stomach, a pout forming on his face.

Meg smacked his finger away, and rubbed imaginary stubble on her chin.

"We have to make a ship name for you and Dean." She announced confidently, ignoring Cas entirely. Just thinking about a ship name made Meg feel cozy on the inside. Cas, not knowing what a ship name was, shot her a blank look.

Meg had a grin playing on her face. "A ship name Clarence; it's a nickname for a couple you want to start dating. Like, if we were together or someone wanted us together, we would be called…Ceg, or something." She paused, and looked at her dresser, her face twisting in confusion. "No, that's gross…Megstiel. Our ship name would be Megstiel." She said brightly.

Cas nodded as realization dawned on him. "Oh! It's a combination of the peoples' names. I understand." He said, smiling in triumph. Meg laughed as she watched the triumph drain from his face, swiftly replaced by terror. Quickly, he went to the desk to gather his belongings.

"Deastiel." Meg said, airing out some ship names. She shoved her laptop off her lap, her eyes dancing as Cas stuffed pencils in his pencil case, refusing to make eye contact with her.

"No." He hissed. He massaged his stomach to try and ease the hunger away.

"Cean." Meg sang out as she followed Cas, and then put on an expression she would wear if an elf had crawled into her throat and decided to lodge itself into her windpipe.

"That's gross," They both said at the same time. Cas shut his sketch pad, and began to walk towards the door. It seemed as though all of the blood was rushing to his face as he flushed red, his lips pressed tightly together to prevent a smile from erupting into bloom.

Meg stood in front of him, her hands on his chest as she pushed him in the room. How many times had she done that, but in vain? Cas only had to lean forward slightly to deflect her. Suddenly, she gasped, and looked up. Her eyes glimmered in the lamplight.

"I got it."

"Oh, lovely. I'll be on my way now."

"Destiel. Oh my god, that's it." She crowed, a grin splitting her face like an axe split wood.

Cas groaned, and tried to push his way past Meg, but she was a persistent little bastard. "Stop it, Meg…" He hissed.

"Destiel! I ship it so hard," Meg laughed, and she dug her feet into the rug as Cas pushed harder. He looked angry, but his dancing eyes said otherwise.

"Oh, what, ship is a verb now?!" Cas growled, doing a little dance from foot to foot in an attempt to cross the threshold into the hallway.

"Cas likes Dean! Cas likes Dean! Caaasss likes Deeeaaannn…" Meg's singsong taunt rang in his ears.

"I do not!" Cas cried out, his voice portraying hurt as Meg cackled like a deranged hyena.

As last resort, Cas's hands darted out towards Meg's sensitive sides, and he began to tickle her. Her laughter cut off faster than lightning, and he eyes bulged out her head. Meg's first instinct upon being tickled was to throw herself at her attacker, which was exactly what she did. Cas yelped in alarm as the chunky girl heaved herself into his frame, and he grunted as he lost his balance. He fell to the carpet with a thump, his rear quickly becoming sore, but he had shielded Meg from the fall.

Meg, still squealing, curled up in a ball and quivered as Cas still continued to tickle her. He rumbled in enjoyment, ignoring Meg's pleas to stop. She was hitting the carpet with one fist, and she was shoving at Cas's face with the other. He squeezed his eyes shut as she grabbed his face and held it there, her fingers splayed over his cheeks and forehead. Her laughter melted like gold into the rain.

As tenacious as the rain, Cas did not give up tickling. He felt a warm feeling coursing through him, and he still smiled, despite the hand assaulting his face and his aching smile muscles. Meg was still squirming, and was threatening him with vile threats, but the happiness was ill concealed.

Finally, Cas began to get tired, and he stopped. His arms hung useless at his sides, and he sighed, pushing up his lopsided glasses. He propped himself up with his right arm acting as a support beam, his left arm resting on Meg's side. She was still giggling into his shoulder, her arms tangled around his neck.

"Fuck you," Meg murmured, kissing him on the temple.

"I asked you to stop. I had very few options," Cas replied, resting his chin on her shoulder.

There was silence for a few moments. "I don't like guys that way, Meg." He said quietly.

"Yeah, Clarence." Meg said, still grinning. Cas wasn't sure if he heard disbelief or not. He chose not to continue to argue. It was pointless.

Cas's stomach roared. "I'm hungry!" He squalled.

"OK! What are you, the Blob?" Meg grunted as she stood up.

"Perhaps I am growing again," Cas suggested, grinning.

Meg glowered as she pulled on a sweatshirt. "If you grow…I will grab a chair, stand on it, and beat you with a stick to assert my dominance." She growled.

"I'm terrified."

"Good. You should be. C'mon, let's go to KFC or something," Meg said, opening her sock drawer and pulling out one red sock and one blue.

"I'll buy," Cas said, pulling some money he had just taken out of his account at the bank out of his pocket.

"Good, because I'm broke as fuck," Meg said, stuffing her foot into her boot.

Pulling out the action figure from the window and stopping the flow of cool air, Cas fixed the tie he was still wearing. At first, Cas had hated ties. He felt like a noose was being wrapped around his neck, but they were a requirement for his job at the bank. Now, it felt funny not to wear one. He didn't even feel it anymore; only when it got caught in doors and on people did he notice its presence.

As they walked out onto the porch, Cas pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and Meg locked the door. Meg neglected the hood and they walked out into the rain that was no longer a drizzle. A steady shower fell on their heads.

They were silent for a few seconds. Then, Meg giggled. "Destiel," She sniggered.

"Shut up, Meg," Cas snapped.

"I'm just saying! It's going to happen. If it doesn't happen, I will flip shit,"

"Well…What if Dean doesn't want it to happen?" Cas murmured through the rain.

"Why don't you ask him?" Meg suggested, as if that was the easiest task in the world.

Cas snorted. "You don't know just how physically incapable I am of doing that,"

"Well," Meg said, "I can be wingwoman of the year and set you up if you want me to,"

"Who says I want to?"

"Me, duh. And you act like it." Meg said, rolling her eyes.

Before Cas could protest, they both jumped as a flash of lighting lit up the sky. A few seconds later, a rumble of thunder as deep as the rumbling of Cas's stomach followed.

"Shit, shit, shit, run, Clarence! Run for your life!" Meg screeched, flailing her arms wildly as she sprinted up the sidewalk and onto the empty street. The lights in the houses shimmered, their window tightly sealed, oblivious to Meg's raucous singing.

Cas held his hood, and pelted after her, joining her as she sang yet another song by Fall Out Boy.

Zooming in zigzags all along Nectar Avenue, they sang into the rain. Cas's hood flew off as his arms flopped at his sides in a halfhearted attempt to keep his balance. He smiled, and near shouted into the dark sky: "When Rome's in ruins, we are the lions, free of the coliseums!"

They narrowly avoided the lone car that drove down the street, the driver totally bewildered when she heard two loud voices crowing in wild voices "We are, wild. We are like young volcanoes!"

Lightning continued to flash, and the thunder bellowed as the two happy teens ignored the weather and continued to sing. "We are wild Americana exotica! Do you want to feel a little beautiful baby, yeah!"

Cas yelped as a huge bolt of lightning reared like a stallion across the sky, and thunder raged. He and Meg streaked across the near deserted intersection, and burst into KFC. Breathless and smiling, they giggled as they crossed the threshold.

Cas held his knees, breathlessly giggling. His hair was sopping wet with the rain that was now a downpour. They had made it just in time. The rain was falling in thick sheets, and the wind was picking up. He watched a trashcan roll down the street.

He looked over at Meg. "I can't believe we just did that," He gasped.

She nodded, grinning. "Yeah, you hate thunderstorms; you took that well."

"I was terrified!" He said, wiping his glasses dry on his shirt.

Meg looked up at the menu after she shook her head like a dog. She snickered. "Destiel," She muttered.

"No!" Cas said, pushing her slightly.

"Whoa! What's Destiel?" rumbled a deep voice.

Cas's pupils dilated, and the hair on his arms and neck stood on end. Looking over quickly, he saw that he had shoved Meg right into Dean Winchester, his hair sparkling with droplets of rain. His eyes shone right at Cas, and down at Meg and he gently pushed her upright.

"Ew, would you go away?" Meg hissed, looking at Dean with disgust.

"Gross," Cas agreed, smiling as he met Dean's gaze.

Dean blinked as thunder rolled down the street. "Why are you guys out in a storm?" He asked, nodding to their wet clothing and shining faces.

"We just wanted to stand around in KFC," Meg said sarcastically.

"I got you. Sammy did too." Dean said, his hand instinctively falling onto Sam's long brown hair. Sam was looking at them wordlessly. He was a quiet kid around people he didn't know very well. When he was around Ruby, he was as talkative and noisy as any junior high kid. His hands were thrust into his pockets. Cas imagined that when he was younger he probably clutched Dean's pant leg and peered around him.

"Hello, Sam," Cas said, smiling in his direction. Sam broke into a smile, and returned the greeting.

"Destiel is a type of ham or something," Meg said casually, looking towards the menu and not even batting an eye when thunder continued to scream at them from outside.

"Can we get Mac 'n' cheese, Dean?" Sam asked quietly, looking up at his older brother. "Sure, Sammy," Dean responded, smiling. Cas found himself to be smiling warmly, and blushed when Meg coughed a cough that sounded suspiciously like a type of ham. He glowered at her, but he lost the effect when he jumped at the sight of more lightning.

"Storm sure came on quick, huh?" Said the cashier when Meg and Cas went up to the counter. "I'll say. It started pouring when we were walking here," Meg said amicably, ordering a large bucket of fried chicken and some mashed potatoes. Cas put the cash on the counter and they stood aside, waiting for their food.

Meanwhile, Cas was having an internal battle. All this talk about shipping was stirring up Cas's brain stew. His hands were fiddling with his tie, and his eyes were vacant, looking at the thoughts that hopped around in his mind's eye. Although he knew that being different was bad, he knew that he could not deny that he was different. The problem was, how would people react? Would they react as his father would, or would they embrace him? Meg seemed to be accepting enough, but Cas knew from experience that appearances can be deceiving.

His thoughts wandered to all of those nights he lie awake, gazing at the ceiling, a small smile perching on his lips. His eyes relayed all the images he had seen that day; every detail about Dean that he found to be pleasing. Cas had always liked cold colors, but he favored green more than any other when he held Dean's gaze, a gaze that wanted to be held by him. Even though some people thought that freckles were imperfections, Cas enjoyed making imaginary patterns on the freckles that sprinkled Dean's cheeks. The teeth he once found sharp and intimidating soothed him whenever they showed themselves when Dean smiled.

The things that Cas loved about Dean the most was his affable personality, his sass, and his seemingly strong loyalty and protectiveness. He saw it whenever someone insulted any of his friends or his family. Hidden beneath that tough and badass exterior cuddled a teddy bear with a heart of molten gold. That gold shone in his eyes whenever he looked at Sam, and especially whenever he looked at Cas. Was he imagining it? Probably. Over amplifying a person's actions was something one did when one had a crush, wasn't it?

Cas grinned, and nodded, rebellious blood flowing through his veins. Thoughts swirled around his brain like gasoline in water.

Yeah but Dean…he's…he's a…guy…

….Point being?

…Is it harassment if it's…true?

" Clarence, you're being a little obvious," Meg hissed.

Cas blinked, and realized he was gazing at Dean with sparkling eyes and silly grin on his face. Meg stood to block him, holding their food and balancing their drinks. She held food with the grace of a practiced waitress.

They wandered around the restaurant, growing used to the lightning and the thunder. Cas observed yet another trashcan rolling down the street as they found Dean's table; Cas could recognize that leather jacket anywhere by now. There was also a notebook with Sam's crooked handwriting on it.

Meg watched in amusement and Cas sank his teeth into the fried chicken, a faint insane gleam in his eyes as he ate. Perhaps he was growing. His eyes flicked towards the window as lighting flashed once more. He pointed, his eyes huge. "Did you see that lightning streak?!" He said through chicken.

Meg turned to look. "No, I didn't," She responded.

"It was awesome," Cas said, turning back to his chicken.

Meg continued to watch Cas, absently eating a spoonful of gravy dipped potatoes. His eyes were slowly becoming vacant again, and he seemed totally absorbed in the fork that lay before him. He absently pushed up his glasses. His lips twitched like they did when he was doing some serious thinking. So deep was he in thought that he didn't even blink when more lightning flashed in the sky.

"Castiel?" Meg said quietly.

Cas blinked, and his eyes got big. "What?" He asked in a slightly alarmed tone.

"…You know it's OK to be…different, right? To want something…that other people don't normally want?" Meg asked uncertainly. Her eyes were narrowed, and her tongue was rubbing over her canine. She held her drink, flicking the straw with one purple nail.

Cas swallowed, and looked over at Dean, who was walking over and talking animatedly to Sam. He seemed to consider something, and then twitched his eye in a wink in Meg's direction, startling her. What on earth was going on in his head? Cas?! Winking?! He seemed so calm, and…well…happy. It was strange, but it was a good strange. Seeing Cas smile at Dean when he sat down beside him made her grin.

Meg was oddly silent during the conversation. It was her turn to sit back and just listen. She was content enough to watch the sparkle in Cas's eyes, and the glimmer that glowed in Dean's eyes. Never before had Meg seen Cas so happy around another person; never before had she seen him experiment with that mysterious temptress called love. She watched as Sam happily ate his Mac 'n' cheese, laughing and joining in the conversation. He and Dean shared the dimples that were created when they smiled. The storm outside did not dampen the lighthearted friendship within.

"Can I go buy some dessert, Dean?" Sam asked eventually, pushing aside his second (and empty) Mac 'n' cheese cup. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, already halfway out of his seat.

"Sure, bitch, gain a few pounds for me," Dean said, tossing him a ten.

"Jerk," Sam said, trotting towards the cashier.

"I'm going to go to the little girl's room. Play nicely, you two," Meg said, standing up, looking at Cas and Dean with stern eyes. Dean smiled innocently, and Cas grinned. Her boot steps were marred by thunder growling.

Dean turned to look out of the window. He became a stark silhouette as lightning made him a sharp black figure. Cas was watching him, sensing he was going to say something. He wiped his mouth on a napkin, and ran a hand through his hair.

Dean turned back to Cas, resting his cheek on his hand. "Have you ever noticed that the clouds are sort of bluish during a storm?"

Cas tilted his head; he wasn't expecting such a question. He looked over Dean's head, and gazed at the clouds. His eyes glowed a shade brighter as more lightning illuminated his face. He saw Dean blink.

"I hadn't noticed." Cas replied, looking back at Dean. He lowered his eyelids, but didn't blink.

Dean took a sip of his cherry soda. "I always liked blue. 'S my favorite color." He said, looking pointedly at Cas. He grinned through his straw, his teeth rubbing against the plastic. "Dark blue's OK, but light blue is the best." He said. Cas didn't notice that Dean had leaned forward slightly. He also didn't notice that he himself leaned forward as well.

Cas smiled, dimples piercing his cheeks. "…I like green better, actually." He murmured, eyes beaming in Dean's direction. He pushed up his glasses, and once more was illuminated by lightning. His jaw was accentuated, and his grin looked roughish in the light. Dean swallowed, content to look at Cas with a warm silence between them.

Cas reluctantly looked up as he felt someone tap his head. Meg had returned. How long had that silence between them lasted? Dean didn't move his head; he only moved his eyes momentarily. His eyes would remain on Cas had Sam not thrown a few one dollar bills and some nickels at him.

Gradually the conversation shifted to school. Sam ate his chocolate chip cake in silence as he listened to the high school students complain about schoolwork, teachers, and people.

Meg was flustered. "Just saying? Abaddon is being a total bitch!"

"What's she done now?" Cas asked sympathetically. He had never approved of Meg's time spent with the red haired girl with nails like claws and teeth looking like she just might have spent time working at them with a file.

"She keeps shooting me dirty looks, and I know she's talking about me. Jo told me she was talking shit," Meg growled, stabbing the bottom of her cup of soda with her straw.

"Is it true you guys went out?" Dean asked. He had no idea that Meg swung both ways and had nearly spat out his drink at lunch when Cas had casually mentioned that Meg and Abaddon had had a 'one night fling,' Judging by the way Cas said 'one night fling', he didn't know exactly what it entailed. However, he didn't seem too concerned when Dean had informed him what it did entail.

"Yes. Problem?" Meg asked in a light voice that crouched in a threat.

"No, no problem." Dean said quickly, stuffing a mouthful of potato between his teeth to stem any further argument.

"Wait, what?" Sam asked suddenly, wiping his mouth. His eyes were on Meg, glimmering with wonderment.

"What?" Meg said, looking at the kid next to her warily.

"You're bi?" Sam asked quietly.

"Sure am, kiddo." Meg said, surveying the crowd proudly. She sat up a little taller.

Sam glowered at Dean. "See?! Other people are bi, Dean!" He said.

Cas and Meg looked curiously from Sam to Dean. A flush had filled Dean's cheeks. "Sam…you…that's not a thing." Dean said uncertainly, his eyes on his cup.

"Excuse me?!" Cas and Meg said at the same time, Meg with the anger that Cas felt.

Sam spoke up, his small face also displaying anger. "Just because Dad says it isn't a thing doesn't make it not a thing!" He said, forcefully stabbing his cake. Cas gulped. John Winchester was a forbidden subject.

Dean hadn't looked up. His fingers were twitching uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." He murmured.

"I fucked a girl and a few guys, and you're telling me bisexuality isn't real?!" Meg snarled, making as though to rise from her seat. "Wait, you fucked them?" Sam asked. Meg nodded, still glaring at his brother.

"Meg!" Cas snarled, startling them all. Cas pushed down on her arm, making her take her seat. Meg's eyes burned, but they softened as they saw Cas's eyes.

"…You didn't think it was real, did you? At first?" Cas said quietly, so quietly that Sam and Dean had to lean in to hear. He held her gaze unblinkingly. It was Meg's turn to be uncomfortable. Pink tinged her cheeks, and she stared at the clenched fists in her lap. "…None of us do." She muttered finally.

Cas nodded. "That's right. There is always that sea of uncertainty that we all set sail in." His eyes roamed over to Dean, though he still faced Meg. "It takes time for us to assimilate, but once we do, we are more at peace with ourselves and one another."

Everyone was held spellbound by Cas's quiet, yet strong voice. His gentle gestures and slowly blinking eyes drew their attention in. Though he didn't know it, Castiel was a master at holding attention. Years of silence went into his favor; when the silent one speaks, everyone turns to listen.

"It is not as your father, or my father, likes to think. It is not something a person uses as a 'safety sexuality', or a way to ease themselves from the closet. It isn't a way to attract attention;" from here, he turned to Meg. "look at Meg here; she doesn't attract any attention by boasting about bisexuality." He then turned to Dean and Sam. Sam was looking at Cas wide-eyed, a grin perched on his mouth. Dean's expression was unreadable. "You two didn't known of her bisexuality. I must conclude that your father, and mine, are wrong." Cas said, breaking off abruptly. He was never good at endings.

There was silence over the table. Cas looked around, panic beginning to form in his eyes. He looked at Meg, who was looking a little dazed. He then looked at Sam, who was looking happy, and then to Dean, who looked at Cas…wonderingly? Facial expressions were so confusing.

"I didn't know I needed a talk on sexuality." Meg said finally, lifting her cup in a silent toast and drinking deeply.

"Yeah, well I didn't." Dean hissed, rising from his chair. There was definite anger on his face as he stalked towards the bathroom.

Bewildered, Cas looked to Sam for guidance.

Sam casually flicked his fork. "He always throws a hissy-fit whenever someone mentions stuff like that. I'd stay away; he's going to implode with feelings." He said as if that wasn't something to be concerned about.

"Why'd you bring it up anyway? Planning on doinking a few dudes?" Meg asked, looking down at Sam as he scribbled in his notebook. It was a rough sketch of a dog that became rougher as Sam's pencil came to a screeching, wobbly halt. "No!" He near yelled.

Meg snickered. "Chill, Polly Pocket. I was only asking." She said, laughing as Sam's red face ducked closer to his notebook. "Ruby likes me anyway." He muttered.

"That obvious, huh?" Meg said sympathetically. "Run while you can." She advised.

"I…ship it." Cas said, airing out his newfound knowledge.

"Ram," Meg concurred, nodding.

"No," Sam said, continuing to draw his dog.

"Destiel," Meg hissed in Cas's direction.

"No," Cas said, watching another trashcan roll down the boulevard, feeling sorry for the person who was no doubt running out of trashcans. He listened to the thunder, and felt a bit of remorse. He had obviously made Dean uncomfortable, and hadn't he just openly admitted his bisexuality? He wasn't even sure if there was a name for what he was. Shaking his head, he smiled a bit at Dean as he returned. The anger on his face seemed to be gone, bottled away for further use.

"You guys need a ride home? It's still pouring out there," Dean said, jerking his thumb to the sheets of rain still falling from the sky and the trashcan infested boulevard.

Cas and Meg nodded, Cas pulling everyone's trash towards him and walking away. Sam shut his notebook and pulled his hoodie over his head. Meg casually threw a stray nickel at Dean, and she too pulled on a sweatshirt. Dean growled as the nickel hit him while he was zipping up his leather jacket. Meg toddled towards the door, groaning because of her full stomach, Sam following her with notebook clutched tightly in his hands.

Dean looked up, and saw Cas waiting for him, a content smile on his face. He quickly pushed up his glasses, his eyes wide. They were blue, and a frame of long eyelashes made them wet and affectionate. Dean's breath hitched slightly, and his brain slapped the back of his head. Cas's hands were jammed into the pockets of his jacket, and his head was ducked. His hair shadowed his eyes, eyes that glimmered up at Dean.

"Ready, Cas?" Dean finally managed to say, fishing the keys to Baby out of his pocket.

Cas nodded, smiling, and walked out while pulling up his hood. He staggered as he was battered by the wind, but he managed to stumble towards the sleek black vehicle, huddling with Meg and Sam.

The engine roared with the thunder, and the Impala galloped down the empty boulevard, a trashcan rolling closely behind.

The Impala pulled into the Winchester driveway, closing her eyes and falling asleep in the rain. Sam shot out of the passenger seat and zoomed into the house, his notebook stuffed under his shirt to keep it dry. Dean however, took his time. His head was swimming in a pool of thought. Dazedly, he walked up the steps, oblivious to the sheeting rain, lightning, and thunder.

The clock on the coffee table said that it was 3:45. He heard Sam's bedroom door slam shut. Sam always took advantage of rainy days; the little oddball liked rainy days because he claimed to be more creative. He's up there drawing something, or writing, or whatever. Dean, on the other hand, found it easier to sit in front of a screen on rainy days.

Dean stumbled over to the kitchen, and plopped down in front of a sleeping laptop. It snarled as Dean opened it and roused it from its electronic dreams. Grumbling, it loaded, and Dean made a beeline for Google as soon as he could. The laptop was cranky, and wouldn't cooperate at first. With an encouraging slap, it picked up the pace.

Dean sat before the search bar and the colorfully lettered Google logo. That black bar pulsed as quickly as his heart. Hs fingers shook as they poised over the dusty keys. Was he going to regret this? He knew that he was different, sick. He also knew that the sickness he suffered from was bad, yet thousands upon thousands of people suffered from it.

He was suffering from an imaginary ailment, something he didn't believe in.

He released his breath, and hastily began to search the world wide web. Hunched over the computer, his eyes illuminated by the screen, Dean read and read and read. He hadn't read this much in a very long time. The more he read, the more confused and angry he became.

Dean had typed 'bisexuality' into the search bar.

Later, Dean leaned back in his chair, his mind in a bookish fog. He rubbed his eyes, and tried to soothe a small, sharp pain behind his eyes. Why didn't they teach him this stuff at school? Why hadn't his father told him of any of this? Oh, right, because he's an asshole and a bigot. He forgot. This was…useful. He had no idea he could be attracted to either gender with different proportions. He didn't know people could be attracted to the genders 50/50, or 30/70, or 70/30. He just didn't know. He had been trained to think that straight was the default, and that one day you might magically wake up gay, and people hated you for it.

He blinked, his mind exploding with sparks that had once been black and white. Now, Dean saw things a bit differently. He began to understand what Cas had been talking about, what Meg had been angry about. He understood his brother.

Finally.

He closed his laptop, slightly annoyed that his life beliefs had been wrong.

But he was also slightly relieved.