"An old family friend called me on Friday, and I had to leave. It's really pretty simple," said Castiel, trying his best to skirt around the truth.
"And you just dumped your phone in the toilet?" asked Dean behind the now thawing chicken pot pies.
"Maybe I just dropped it and didn't notice," suggested Castiel. That's not a lie. He didn't actually say that's what happened.
"Maybe? Shouldn't you know?"
"Dean, seriously? What is your problem?" Sam glared at his brother.
"Look, I know when someone's dancing around the truth because they're scared. I've been a teacher for ten years. You sound like the kids that are getting the crap beat out of them at home, but they insist they just fell down the stairs. So stop telling me you broke your arm because you're clumsy, and tell me who the hell broke it so I can help you." The pot pies lay on the floor and the full measure of Dean's hard stare was focused directly at Castiel.
". . . I have . . . a stalker." The words sounded silly to Castiel's ears. He was a grown man facing Dean Winchester, not some housewife on Days of Our Lives confessing a secret to Eric Brady. He felt his face grow hot.
"And he, she found you?" asked Sam gently.
"I don't know. He called me on Friday, and I have no idea how he could have gotten my phone number. I just couldn't risk it."
"Who is he?"
"He used to be a friend of my father's. He really was an old family friend," Cas said bitterly.
"Why did you come back?"
"I left something here. Something important," was all Castiel could reveal. His eyes however darted to a small tin box in the corner Sam hadn't noticed earlier.
"Look, you don't have to run. We know the sheriff. She'll help you. You don't have to be afraid anymore, Cas." Sam might as well have morphed into a chocolate Lab puppy right then and there. "Whoever this guy is, she'll put him away. Or get you a restraining order."
"I've had many against him over the years. It doesn't matter. I've blown through dozens of towns over the past thirteen years. It never matters."
"You'll stay with us until you feel safe," said Dean. Castiel felt a pull inside his stomach and looked at anywhere except for the Winchesters next to him. And to their credit, the Winchester boys looked anywhere but at the teary eyed man next to them.
Sam followed the Impala home. He felt strange to be driving Castiel's BMW, but he sort of liked it. It was a smooth drive, and the heated seats were oddly comforting. Yes the Impala was the most important car—nay, thing in the history of the universe, but he couldn't exactly share one car with Dean forever. Sam looked into the rear view mirror out of habit, and took in the boxes stacked and shoved in the backseat.
"Poor Cas," said Sam aloud to himself. He thought about when Cas had told them he had been running for the past thirteen years and had lived in over dozens of different places. Wow. Sam shivered at the thought.
How lonely that kind of life must be.
Maybe it was because Cas and Dean had gotten so close, and because Sam's kind of a softie, but he desperately wanted to help his newest friend. He didn't remember how his parents' friends helped his family when his and Dean's mother died, after all, he was only six months old, but he did remember how his family's friends came together to help them when their father disappeared five years ago. His hands gripped tighter around the designer steering wheel.
Sam Winchester was resigned to pay it forward.
Dean's foot rested on the brake pedal. He glared daggers at the red light in front of him, as if stop lights could be threatened into turning green faster. He tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel to the beat of he Queen song playing in the car.
"What song is this?" asked Cas.
"Save Me by Queen." Dean answered gruffly. Cas tore his eyes from the window and stared at Dean who was concentrating too hard at the still red light. Finally it turned green.
"I could have driven my own car. I know where you live."
"Yeah, because it's not like you're a flight risk or anything."
"A flight risk?"
"You're like some freakin' bird or . . . whatever else has wings. Sammy was serious about helping you, and it would break his heart if you didn't let him."
"And you?"
". . . I meant it, too." The song continued to play, and suddenly Cas didn't like the song as much.
I hang my head and I advertise
A soul for sale or rent
I have no heart I'm cold inside
I have no real intent
Save me, save me, save me
I can't face this life alone
Save me, save me, ooooohhhhh...
I'm naked and I'm far from home
"I wanted to apologize for the things I said earlier. I didn't mean any of it," Castiel started. "And for everything else."
"Hey, I royally ticked you off. I get it," replied Dean. "And, uh . . ." Dean's momentum faded and they sat in uncomfortable silence as the cassette tape reached its end.
". . . Bats have wings," said Cas, finally breaking the quiet.
"Dude, no. If anyone's going to get compared to Batman here, it's going to be me." Cas felt his cheeks widen. And just like that, they were friends again.
Dean pulled into his and Sam's driveway. The night crept earlier these days and the street lights were already turned on by the time they arrived home. Cas carried the two extra large pizzas as he made his way towards the Winchester home behind Dean.
"Just leave it, Sam," said Cas from the bottom of the porch steps. Sam closed the car door, but still carried with him one of the boxes labeled Teacher Stuff.
"Don't worry, Cas. I've got it." Sam smiled as he passed Cas to get inside.
Dinner was actually fun. Castiel could hardly believe that if he hadn't forgotten Amelia's stupid tin box, he'd probably be in some cheap motel right about now, a bottle of cheap booze for company. Instead he was sprawled on the almost ridiculously cofortable couch, belly full of pizza and soda, being yelled at by Dean about someone named . . . Delorean?
"I'm not sure who that is. Is that the Art teacher with the soul patch and toupee? The one that always smells like after shave and weed?" Castiel asked. Sam spit out some of the soda he had just been drinking. He continued his bark of a laugh as he wiped the glass coffee table with the free napkins that came with the pizzas.
"No! A Delorean is a car, Cas. You know, from the 80s? The suicide doors? Made by GMC? It was used by Doc Brown and Marty McFly to travel through time? Ring any bells?" Castiel squinted at Dean and turned his head slightly.
"I don't understand what you're saying." Dean's eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets.
"Cas, please tell me you're familiar with the epic, classic motion picture, Back to the Future!"
"No, I can't say that I am." Without another word Dean strode across the living room to the wall where there were towers, nay, columns of movies. He pulled one out and proceeded to shove it inside the dvd player.
"Cas, you're going to love this," said Dean. His face was pulled into a huge smile that made his eyes (which were obviously lit with excitement) crinkle at the corners. Sam plopped himself down on the sofa next to Cas, eating his way through his seventh or eighth slice of pizza.
"This is one of Dean's favorite movies. Wait until he starts showing you his westerns," said Sam as a tiny yellow pineapple clung to the side of his mouth. Castiel couldn't help but smile.
"Shh! It's starting!" Dean turned off all the lights and took his seat on the black leather recliner. At some point between Marty finding the 1955 Doc Brown and his 1955 mom asking him to the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance, Sam had fallen asleep. The only reason Castiel knew this was due to the fact that the tall, puppy dog eyed man snored. Castiel tried to ignore it, but truth was he felt like he was watching a movie next to the Impala as it revved its engine. Fortunately for Castiel, Dean felt the same way and punched his brother on the arm which prompted the plaid clad teacher to get up and walk to his bedroom like a sleep zombie. He even grunted as he went.
When the movie finished and the credits began to roll, Dean yawned.
"So what did you think?"
"I kind of loved it," Castiel said. He swore he could hear the smirk on Dean's face.
"Yeah. It's pretty awesome. Tomorrow night we'll do Back to the Future 2."
"How many movies are there?"
"Just three, unfortunately. Man, I really wish they'd make a fourth one. I really think it'd make my life."
"Well, never lose hope." They remained in the dark, with nothing but the soft glow of the 55" tv in front of them. The dvd looped back to the main menu before Dean spoke again.
"So I guess tomorrow we'll take you to the station to talk to Sheriff Mills after school." Castiel could only sigh. "If you're more comfortable, I can probably just ask her to meet us here."
"No, I would rather go there." They sat without speaking, nothing but The Power of Love hook playing repeatedly in the background.
"So let me show you to your room," Dean said. Castiel could hear the soft leather moving against him as he got up. The tv shut off and more darkness enveloped moonlight and street lights from outside seeped into the house, just enough so they could make their way through the dark.
"The couch is perfectly fine," said Castiel.
"We have a guest bedroom for a reason."
"For when you pick up wayward strays and offer to protect and shelter them?"
"Exactly," replied Dean without missing a beat. Castiel followed Dean upstairs. "You already know where the bathrooms are. Warning, Sam takes no less than a hundred years in there in the morning, probably to do his hair. We have spare toothbrushes, too, if you need one. We like to buy that stuff in bulk, so don't even worry about it. This is you."
"Thank you, Dean." Dean nodded, but wouldn't look Castiel in the eyes.
"I'm just next door. Knock if you want anything. I mean, need anything. Or whatever. Or Sam is that door there, so you can knock there, too, if you need. I mean, want." It was pretty dark so Castiel wasn't sure, but he thought Dean may have been a little red faced.
"I really appreciate this," Castiel said in a small voice. Dean finally looked up from his mismatched socks.
"No hallmark moment necessary. You're a friend, and we're going to figure this out with you. End of story."
"It's not much of a story if there's no conflict." Dean smiled.
"Okay, Mr. Novak. Save it for the students tomorrow." Castiel smiled back. They both headed towards their rooms. As Castiel was about to shut his door, Dean cleared his throat. "Is Castiel Novak your real name?"
Castiel looked into those green eyes and clutched tightly at the door frame.
"No," he answered. Dean merely nodded as if absorbing some trivial piece of information, like whether the temperature was 70 or 71 degrees.
"Goodnight," said Dean. Then he closed his door.
"Goodnight, Dean," said Castiel into the hollow hallway.
A/N: Okay, so I made a Jensen Ackles joke! Did you catch it? I'll let you know what it was in the next update, in case you didn't!
The song by Queen is beautiful, and you should look that up right now if you don't know it, and if you do, you should listen to it right now and reread that scene. Or not.
Thanks for reading and I really appreciate the reviews, follows, and favorites!
I want to give a special thanks to ILoveSupernaturalcasismine, TheTimeLordof221bCamelot, darkshadowarchfiend, r2metoo, Maybaby34, blah2u2, dean-wants-the-assbutt, and all those that have left reviews in previous chapters! It really makes me excited to see and read reviews, as I am fairly sure most writers her on ffn feel. Thanks and it really inspires me to write the next chapter!
So the conflict is moving forward . . . I have the back story in my head, but I didn't want to drop everything all at once. I feel like Castiel wouldn't do that at this point in the fic, you know? What do you think?
Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! I love connecting to other folks on here!
