A/N: Let's have a little fun.


Lisa was fussing over Dean. It wasn't bad. He liked the way her fingers felt in his hair, but didn't really like that she'd insisted on spoon feeding him the bland jello the hospital was letting him choke down.

Bobby thought it was high-freggin-larious judging by the way his shoulders shook with silent laughter. But when Dean cast him a pleading look, he took the hint.

"Come on now, sweetheart. Dean needs his rest."

Dean had no intention of resting yet. He'd slept enough. Too much. And he was still tired. That annoyed the crap out of him. He swore he was getting sores on his ass.

He heard measured steps, and he tried to sit up straighter. "Hey, Dad."

"Hello, Dean," a voice that wasn't his father's responded.

Dean turned his head. "Cas. Hey." He grinned at the other boy.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ya know. I'd be better if they let the cute nurses help me shower instead of the buff attendant guys, but whatever. I guess it's kind of cool those guys could bench press me."

Castiel set his backpack down by the bed as he walked over to Dean.

"My dad gave me his leather jacket," Dean said as though Cas had asked. "Guess he was feeling guilty."

"About what?"

"He's taking off again. He's a trucker. He's got no choice. He has to keep food on the table, you know?" If Sam was there, he would have called Dean on his bullshit. Sam knew damn well John was a mechanic by trade. So was Bobby. Bobby needed the help and he would have given John a job in a heartbeat. But Cas didn't know that.

"His job doesn't understand he has a sick son?"

Dean bristled. "I'm not sick, man. I'm just a little banged up. I don't need anyone to take care of me. They'll let me out of here sooner or later. I need to get back to Sam."

Cas regarded him in that cool way of his, but he nodded. He tugged at the oversized trench coat he wore. "This was my father's as well."

Dean's throat got tight as a memory hit him. He remembered the horrible slicing pain throughout his body and a boy, this boy, kneeling over him, his coat covered in Dean's blood, his blue tie askew, and his brilliant eyes fierce. Dean had never been more scared in his life. He was certain he was going to die.

I won't let you. Keep talking. Don't sleep.

Dean shook the memory and Cas's commanding voice away as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. "You got all the blood out."

"My brother Michael knows a dry cleaners who can work miracles."

"Apparently."

"In any event." Cas sat in the chair by Dean's bedside. "I come with gifts."

"Jerky and pie and porn?"

Cas's lips turned down in a frown. "I didn't think-"

"Cas. I was joking." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Oh. Right." Cas busied himself, rifling through the bag at his feet. He produced a stack of folders and papers that made Dean tired just looking at them. "Homework. As I promised."

"Man. You hate me." Dean groaned and banged his head back against his pillow.

"I can help you, if you wish. We have many of the same classes. It will be much more of a pain in the ass if you try to catch up later."

Dean smirked. For some reason, it was always amusing when Cas cursed, and he was trying too hard to help for reasons Dean couldn't fathom. "You shouldn't have, Cas, but I guess you're right." He gave the other boy two healthy thumps on the back.

Cas's eyes narrowed in obvious pain, and he swallowed a moan. "Are you okay, Cas?"

"Fine," Cas said too quickly. He started to pick up the half empty containers of bland jello and the apple juice Dean was supposed to be sipping to make room for all his homework.

Dean stared. For once, Cas didn't stare back. His movements were stiff, and now that Dean was watching, he could see the way Cas's eyes tightened at the corners, as if moving was painful. To test the horrible theory in his head, Dean put his hand to Cas's shoulder and squeezed.

Cas cried out and twisted away from Dean. He stared at him with an accusing expression before he stood and looked down at the ground. "I should go."

"No. Cas." Dean reached out, grabbing at Cas's coat. Oversized as it was, the coat came off easily. Seeing an opportunity, Dean yanked Cas's shirt down to expose part of his shoulder. Before Cas could get away, Dean caught a glimpse of the bruising along his back. "Son of a bitch."

"Dean."

"Who did that to you? And why?"

"Let it go."

"I'm not going to let it go. This is bullshit. Was it the assholes at school?"

Cas looked up at that, his eyes fierce. "Dean, I got those guys off you. You really think anyone at school could have done anything to me?"

"Then who?" Cas was quiet. "Was it one of your brothers?" Cas looked away. "It was, wasn't it? Well, that's fucked. Do they beat on you-"

"No. Dean. It's not what you think. I disobeyed, and I was corrected. I knew what was going to happen if I came here, and I did it anyway. It was my fault."

Dean was dumbfounded. He couldn't wrap his head around the way the other boy was talking. "You weren't supposed to come here yesterday? Your brother kicked your ass for coming to visit me in the hospital?"

"Raphael thinks I'm bothering you."

"Well, you aren't. You saved my life. What the hell." His stomach twisted. What was this idiot doing taking beatings just to see him? "Are you disobeying now?"

"No." Cas's lip quirked at one corner. He lifted his head, staring out into space as he spoke. "I may have offered to help Ms. Harvelle take her things to her car just as Raphael came to get me. She told Raphael that it was nice I was being so helpful."

Dean huffed. It didn't hurt as much as it had the day before. "You're a crafty one, Cas."

The other boy glanced askance at him, his grin widening, and Dean felt an odd sort of lurch in his chest. It didn't hurt, which was odd. Most everything about his chest hurt, but this didn't. Made him feel kind of warm, actually. "It's still fucked up. Those bruises are fucked up. You should tell someone. I should tell someone."

"Don't." Cas's voice was a command. "I know our family is not like others. I'm not an idiot. I know most families don't work the way ours does, on strict obedience, but you must understand. Raphael was only worried because I'm acting a lot like our brother Luc. It's likely Luc will never be out of prison. Do you understand Raphael is trying to keep me from the same path?"

Dean eyed the other boy because he didn't. He really didn't. He did what his father told him maybe more than a lot of boys his age would, but John would have understood if he went to visit someone in the hospital. "You weren't doing anything wrong. You're a damn hero, man. Why is your brother acting like you're one of the assholes who put me in here?"

"It has to do with why I was out there in the first place. The man I was with, Balthazar, isn't someone Raphael approves of. He's convinced I was, er… near trouble because I was with him, and so he's being very careful about where I am and who I'm with."

"He thinks I might be a shady character? Sure, I can get behind that. Some idiot gets himself stabbed is usually doing something to cause it." Dean frowned as he thought about Sam and the company he'd been keeping. "I'm a bad influence."

"You're a good person." Cas's words were so earnest, Dean had to resist the urge to duck his head in embarrassment.

"Yeah, well. Again, you saved my bacon. You didn't deserve to get beaten for it."

"That's not-"

"I know, I know. You disobeyed. Whatever. It's still fucked."

"My brother loves me. Perhaps he overreacted-"

"You think?"

"-but he does love me."

Dean couldn't say anything. He'd had pretty much the same conversation when he dragged himself to Bobby's the night John came home after Sam had disappeared. Bobby had been livid with John, but how could Dean blame his father for doing what he'd done? Dean's one job was to watch Sam and he'd failed. The whole reason he was in the hospital at all was because he'd failed again.

So while Dean couldn't understand why Cas deserved what he got, he could understand families and expectations weren't black and white. "Yeah, well. He should get used to the idea I'm not as bad an influence as he thinks. I mean, unless your family is the kind of family who believes Star Wars advocates witchcraft or something like that."

Cas cocked his head. "What?"

Dean cleared his throat, nervous for reasons he couldn't figure out. "Look, I've been thinking. Watching Star Wars is a prerequisite to... I don't know, life. I owe you for the whole stopping me from bleeding out thing, so I was going to ask you… When I get out of here, maybe you could come over or something."

"That would be nice. Balthazar is really my only friend, and I can't see him right now." Cas eyed him. "Perhaps you need tutoring to catch up with the work you've missed."

It took Dean a few seconds to catch up. He realized Cas's brother would find it harder to say no if Cas was coming over under the guise of tutoring. "Yeah. Exactly."

"I'll ask," Cas promised.

~0~

It was another week before Dean was out of the hospital and Cas could come over.

"I don't understand. Why are we starting on episode four?" Cas was confused as the gold writing scrolled across a black starfield.

"Because four came first. The first star wars came out in 1977. Episode One didn't come out until 1999."

Then Cas was very confused.

Sam bust out laughing and Dean paused the video so he could turn to Cas. "Look, just roll with it. Believe me, you don't need to know anything that happens in episodes one through-" He cut off with a gasp, and his hand went to his side as his face pinched with pain.

"Dean," Cas and Sam said at the same time. Cas put his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I'm fine." Dean waved them both away, but he bent forward, still gripping his side.

"You should lay down," Cas said.

"Nah. I'm okay. There's no room for us all to sit if I lay down anyway."

"I'll sit on the floor." Before Dean could protest, Cas slid onto the floor, stretching his legs out beneath the coffee table.

Dean grumbled but he stretched his legs across Cas's vacated spot on the loveseat.

"You should have listened to the doctors, Dean," Sam said, frowning as he looked over his brother. "They wanted to keep you for at least another day."

"There's no damn reason for that. I can lay around and not go to school for another week without having my ass on display in one of those nifty hospital gowns." He opened one eye to smirk at his brother. "Though I brought one just for you, Sammy. It'll come in useful this summer when it's hot."

Sam made a face. "It's Flagstaff. It doesn't get that hot here, and I've already seen your ass. It's burned into the my brain, which sucks for me."

"Whatever. Are we ready?"

Cas was amused at the brothers' antics. He'd almost forgotten what he was doing there. As he'd rarely been to anyone's house outside friends of his family, it should have been awkward. Somehow, with the Winchester boys, it wasn't. He felt welcome.

"Pay attention, Cas. This is important. What they tell you about math, that you're going to use it in your life after school is a lie, but this will get you far. Hell, it might get you laid. I know Sammy is hoping to catch himself a geek girl with some crappy line." He put on a voice. "Hey, baby. You wanna see my lightsaber?"

"Shut. Up. Dean." Sam threw a pillow, but after that the boys settled again.

The movie was amusing enough, Cas supposed. Cas wasn't used to concentrating on movies, so his mind wandered. It wasn't difficult seeing as Dean and Sam both quoted along. Cas liked the way Dean tapped on his shoulder every few minutes. "Oh, man. Wait for this part, you're going to love it," he would say, and, "I love jawas," and, "Oh, shit. Obi Wan's not as harmless as he looks," and, "Sammy, what the fuck. You know better than to put in this special edition bullshit." To Cas he said, "Greedo did not shoot first. Han did. That's what makes him Han Fucking Solo."

When Cas asked questions, Dean would get flustered trying to explain things and chastise him about paying attention at he same time. "Dammit, Cas. It's a movie, that's why the TIE fighters scream in space, and it's fucking cool. Pay attention. This is a great fucking line, and you're going to miss it. Damn."

He and Sam hummed the finale, and when Cas asked why Chewbacca didn't get a medal, Dean ruffled his hair and laughed. "That was before the Wookie Civil Rights movement. Sammy. Switch it out."

"Something wrong with your feet?"

"Bitch. I got stabbed."

"Did you get stabbed in your feet?"

"Sammy. If you make me get up, you're going to regret it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Sam hauled himself up to change the DVD.

Dean tapped on Cas's shoulder to make sure he had his attention. "Now you gotta pay attention to this one, Cas. George Lucas is a genius at storytelling, awesome businessman, real all around creative dude. But the man cannot write or direct worth shit. Star Wars, Return of the Jedi, all fucking three of the prequels… they're fun flicks. But Empire is a masterpiece. Pay attention."

"Okay, Dean."

And Cas did pay attention until he felt a soft touch against the back of his neck. Fingertips against his nape. Cas's breath caught, and the strangest sensation went down his spine. He had never been more aware of his body than he was as that very moment.

He froze, horrified. And excited. And uncertain because why? Why was Dean touching him like this? Should he let him continue?

It didn't feel bad. No. It definitely didn't feel bad.

Cas might have even tilted his head, just to see what the sensation felt like on a different part of his neck. But he didn't know what he should do or what he really wanted to do.

Then Dean snored, his hand resting against Cas's shoulder, and Cas felt very stupid. Asleep. He was just asleep.

Cas should have known. Dean had been quiet. That should have been his first clue.

He tried to concentrate on the movie. He tried to ignore the warm weight of Dean's hand against his skin.


A/N: Many thanks to songster, baburella, and everydaybella

Thanks to all of you for your encouragement. Let me know how I'm doing!