:3 Thank you guys for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm glad you guys are liking this story so far! Sorry it took a bit, I started watching Derek and honestly I couldn't stop. It's such a sweet show. Kinda taught me to be nicer to others and the like. Show's very Hufflepuff, with a side of mild perversion occasionally and one character that's completely awful for a while (*cough* Geoff *cough*).

Anyways, as I said before, you guys probably know who's going to show in this chapter. And I hope you'll like him, he's sometimes a bit hard to write.

By the time Sam had reached the library downtown, he was out of breath. Usually the teen could run for miles if he so dared, but from all the mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion he had just endured the minutes before, Sam was out of it. The only things he felt was the hard, snowy pavement running beneath his feet and the chilly wind biting against his nose and cheeks; the snow getting caught in front of his glasses and in his hair.

In his adamant rush to leave, the tall boy hadn't brought his jacket, sweater, or jeans. He was only in his gym clothes from before. But the heat and energy by running his way from the school to the library kept him relatively warm. To an extent.

Stopping just a few feet north of the front door of the small and cozy crimson brick building, Sam took a deep breath, heart pounding in his chest and head aching. The bruises and marks covering his body were slowly but surely healing now, he was always a quick healer. Most of the time.

Trying to wipe the snow and water off his glasses, Sam felt awful, inside and out. Back there, he didn't hesitate to beat the hell out of those guys, who had also beaten him to kingdom come. But now, the teen thought that...maybe he should have listened to the tiny voice in his head. In a sense, he wasn't any better than the ones that had tortured him for such a long time.

How was there any way for Sam to atone for it all?

A wave of anxiety and nausea washed itself over him, and an unpleasant amount of bile filled his throat. Breathing in and out several times, the soaked teen finally gained some sense of security and calmness. The bile piled in his throat slowly went down, and the dark lines that were forming in his line of vision crept away, slithering away like a snake.

Trudging up the stone steps, Sam reached the front door of the library and entered, cringing at the bell signaling his arrival.

A reasonably sized building with several windows and old-fashioned lights in front of it, it seemed like a haven at the moment. Looking through the glass panes, Sam could see the huddled bookcases basked in warm yellow light. Two pine tables sat on each inside end of the building, surrounded by several matching chairs, some with cushions, some without.

Melted snow dripped from his clothes and hair, falling onto the worn plum carpet below and soaking his glasses once again. The heat from the building cloaked around his body, feeling good against the fading bruises and his numb limbs. Giving one last shiver, the teen walked closer to the large, tall desk that sat directly in the middle, piled high with books, pens, and blank paper.

Footsteps hurried from the right, and Sam turned to see his friend.

Castiel Hale stood, looking confused and curious, eyes narrowed and slightly squinted in his usual fashion. Wearing a just a nice white shirt with black pants, along with a pair of black Oxford shoes and his beloved (but backwards...Sam never had the heart to tell him) blue tie, he looked quite good. Not that the teen would ever tell him that; that was Dean's territory.

"...Hello, Sam," the librarian said, gravelly tone laced with mild uncertainty. He wasn't used to seeing one of his favorite frequenters arriving so early...especially when school hours were still going. Observing the swollen right eye and faint yellow-green marks dusted across parts of the younger man's body, Castiel knew something wasn't right.

Passing a shy and exasperated smile, Sam rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tender area, "Hey, Castiel. Hehe...didn't think you'd see me this early, did you?"

With a quick flourish, the raven-haired man was mere inches in front of Sam, intense blue eyes staring into his. A bit startled by the sudden movement, the chestnut-haired boy backed up a bit, wondering what had gotten the typically quiet and relaxed man so...scary.

Might be with all the bruises across you, the voice in his head said with mild sarcasm leaking through its' small impression.

Frowning with a hint of anger, Castiel narrowed his eyes again once more, "...May I ask what happened to you? Who did this to you, Sam?" Smelling green tea on his breath, Sam saw the hard and cold look in his eyes that told Sam even though he wasn't upset at him, he was still pissed regardless. Both the teen and the librarian had a close friendship, and this was evident.

Having no desire at this point to make a lie up, Sam explained, "Just some guys at school...no big deal. I took care of it."

"I assume you did. You usually do, Sam. Does your brother know about this?" Cas inquired, tone still hard and unmoving.

The teen frowned, a sinking weight settling itself into the pit of his stomach, "...No. I just came here...after I...you know, took care of those guys I came straight here. I...I couldn't deal with what I just did. So I left.

Giving a sad look, the librarian sighed, "You may have wanted to stay though, Sam. That way you could make it up to yourself and get the consequence of your actions. As much as I understand why you did that...you still have to realize that maybe there was a better way to have dealt with this."

"That's what I expected to hear. But how could I just have let them treat me like that for so long!? You know what they've said and done to me, Cas. I've told you. All of it," Sam almost yelled, voice rising with each emotion that crashed its' way through his body and mind. Anger, desperation, exhaustion, fear, all of it.

Exhaling a drawn out breath, Castiel nodded, a wash of concern, sympathy, and empathy flowing through his face, "I know. I'm not saying that, in a large way, they didn't deserve it. But if you keep on keeping all this inside of you...it's going to hurt someone. You, out of all of it. But I'll call the school and tell them that you're staying here. They'll let me, I'm sure of it."

Relief and happiness floated across Sam's mind, making it feel cool and good. Like drinking cold lemonade on a hot summer's day. He certainly felt better after that talk with Castiel, and hopefully the days ahead wouldn't be too bad. He could only take so much at this moment.

The teen knew he'd have to take the consequences of his actions soon enough, but maybe his bullies and torturers knew now not to mess with Sam Winchester.

The usual calm look returned back onto Castiel's features, and suddenly he didn't look so terrifying anymore. A small smile played across his mouth, liking the present company, even though it wasn't under the best circumstances. The bruises marking the younger man's body needed some tending to, and Castiel was sure of that. He had a first aid kit and the like somewhere, buried underneath all the books and papers that made his home of sorts.

Pulling out a cushioned chair for Sam, the blue-eyed man hurried to go find the said kit. Nodding his thanks, Sam sat down, breathing a sigh at the amazing feeling of comfort. It felt good to finally be sitting down, the aching feeling covering his body now diminishing to a gentle throb.

From the back of one of the bookcases, Sam heard, "By the way, Sam. Your brother left his jacket here the other day. I believe he'd like it back."

Sam's laughter echoed throughout the building.

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