After John came home that Sunday, Dean didn't do anything but take care of Sammy, go to school, and go to work. He saw Castiel at school, and sometimes he'd come by at the garage, but that was it. Dean was happy Castiel accepted it; he didn't want to lose him.
But it was hard. He had to wake up early every day to make breakfast for Sammy, bring him to school, he had to survive his own day at school, pick up Sammy and head straight to the garage.
There, he worked the rest of the time before heading home to make dinner. After dinner he had to do the dishes, sometimes clean the house, he had to wash all the clothes, and basically did everything parents would do.
If that was everything, he'd be okay, but he had also homework to do, his own and Sammy's, whenever Sammy was too tired. He had to take care of his little brother, and couldn't care less about his own life.
At night he waited, at the kitchen table. He waited for John to come home, so he could go to sleep himself. This wasn't the life a normal 17 year old should have, but Dean knew he couldn't do anything about it.
He had to wait, wait till he was 18 so he could take Sam with him and go away, away from his dad, away from all the trouble.
One night, Dean felt sick. He had slept too less the past few days, and tripped over nothing at least twice a day. But he had to go on; he had to do this for Sam. Sam didn't deserve this, and that's what kept Dean moving. He was sitting at the kitchen table when John came home, 2.30am. Dean expected him to just go to bed, like always. But this time it was different.
"Why am I getting called by yourschool if there's something wrong?" Dean's eyes grew wide. Oh shit.
"I don't know, I've been a bit tired past days," he replied. But that wasn't enough for John.
He walked over to Dean and before Dean realized it, he was thrown off his chair. "If I hear anything else from that school, we're leaving, you hear me? I'm getting a new phone. And if you dareto make them call me again..." he didn't finish his sentence, but instead, his hand flew to Dean's head.
Dean tried to get away, but he was too weak. He felt his father's knuckles hit his eye, but didn't dare to even whimper. "Do you understand me?"he heard his dad ask.
"Yes, dad, I'm sorry. It won't be happening again." John's hand hit the side of Dean's head one more time before he went to his room.
"Good," he mumbled before closing the door.
Dean lied on the floor for a minute before he sat up, and cleaned the floor. He hadn't realized his nose was bleeding until now. As he waited till the bleeding stopped, he thought about what just happened. He had almost forgotten how his dad could be when drunk, almost.He sighed. This was why he stood up at night. He had to take this or else John would hurt Sammy.
The next morning, Sam had asked what happened, his face in shock. Dean hadn't even looked in a mirror the night before, so when he finally did, he understood Sam's expression. His whole eye was blue, together with a part of his nose. On the side of his head there was also a big bruise. "Nothing bad, I tripped and fell on the kitchen table," he said, not wanting to have Sam worried.
Castiel sat in class, wondering where Dean was. Yes, he was late at times, but not this late. During lunch, Charlie also asked where Dean was. Castiel admitted he didn't know, but also didn't worry. Dean had looked pretty tired past days; maybe he was just sick at home. He didn't think about it as the day went on.
The next day, however, he was worried. Dean had come to school, his eye and nose green and bruised another bruise on the side of his head.
"What happened?" Castiel asked as soon as he saw Dean.
"Calm down, I just tripped and fell into the kitchen table. It's nothing bad," Dean replied. There they were again, the lies he had to tell the people he cared for. Just to protect them.
Castiel believed Dean; he has had some pretty nasty accidents too. They went to class, and Dean got scoffed because he hadn't made any homework, as usual.
"I have been sick at home yesterday, how could you expect me to do any homework?" Dean started, but Miss Talbot has created a special kind of hate for him since he had come to her classes, so he had bad luck.
"Winchester, I cannot tolerate that tone, and you didn't do your homework, again,and besides, you stilldon't have any books or even a bag. Go to the principal, I'm done with you today," she snapped.
Dean rolled his eyes and stood up. "Later, Cas, I'm gonna go to Bobby's, at least he appreciates my presence." That last line was directed to Miss Talbot, who looked even angrier. Before Castiel could even say anything, Dean walked out of the classroom.
Who does that bitch think she is? She should be happy I'm even attending that damn class.
Dean was pissed. He went straight outside, not bothering to go to the principal. When he arrived at Bobby's, he told Bobby the same story of the kitchen table, but Bobby didn't believe him. Bobby's had a childhood too, and it hadn't been all rainbows and flowers.
"You know you can always come here when something's wrong, boy," he just said. If there was something going on, Dean would tell Bobby himself. Dean just nodded and went to work.
When it was time, he picked up Sam from school and went back to the garage, where Bobby gave him some extra money to buy food. Dean was about to thank Bobby but Bobby interrupted him.
"You remember what I said, boy? Don't thank me every time. You worked hard today, now get some food."
Bobby knew Dean would be standing at his door soon, but he hadn't it expected to be this soon. It was 2am when he heard his doorbell rang. He stumbled to the door, and was surprised to find Dean there, still in his clothes, nose bleeding, and a bad bruise he hadn't seen earlier that day.
"Bobby, can I... can I drop Sammy here? He needs a place to stay; it's not safe at home." Dean pointed to the car, where Sam sat, in his pajamas and jacket, shivering from the cold.
"Of course he can," Bobby replied, and Dean ran to the car. He said something to Sam, and together they walked back to Bobby. "Come in, boy, you're getting a cold this way," he told Sam. Dean didn't make an attempt to come in.
"You aren't coming?" Bobby asked.
"No, I need to go back before John hurts himself, or makes more damage. Thanks so much for letting Sammy stay," Dean replied, and walked back to the car. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, Sammy, don't worry, everything's fine," he shouted.
Bobby shook his head. "That damn boy, always making sure no one gets hurt. 'Bout time he starts worrying about himself," he mumbled before closing the door. He led Sam to his room, and told him Dean would be fine and that he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted. Sam thanked him, and fell asleep right away. Bobby looked at the sleeping boy once more.
You don't deserve this, but neither does Dean.
The next morning, Dean drove to Bobby's. Bobby had been expecting him and Sam had already eaten, ready to go to school. Dean said he was okay, but that was not how he looked.
This time, his eye was swollen and bruised again, he limped a bit, and breathing seemed hard for him. As soon as he saw Sam coming, he acted like he was okay, and brought him to school.
Back at Bobby's, he wanted to work, but Bobby told him to get some sleep first. "I have no idea how you feel, but you don't look well," he said as he led Dean upstairs.
"Can I sleep in the room Sammy slept? We always sleep in the same room and I wouldn't feel comfortable in another room... I'm sorry," Dean told him. Bobby assured him it was okay, and soon Dean was fast asleep.
Meanwhile, Castiel sat in class, worried about Dean. Dean had been getting more bruises the past days, and even if he kept saying he got them from work, Castiel knew it wasn't true. He had seen Dean working and Dean barely got hurt. He sighed as the teacher rambled on about some totally uninteresting topic.
When Dean came to school a few days later, he had other bruises. He told Castiel he had walked into a door, but Castiel didn't believe him anymore.
"What's going on, Dean?" he asked, looking right into Dean's eyes. He got a little bit distracted by how beautiful they were, but quickly recovered himself. He wanted to know what was happening. Dean looks back and Castiel knew Dean was debating whether to tell him or not.
At least, Dean chose to tell Castiel. "Not here," he whispered, not risking another trip to the principal. "Somewhere more private, you can come to Bobby's today?" They agreed on meeting in the garage, and they didn't talk about it during the day.
It got Castiel thinking though, was it John? It could be, and it would also explain Dean's behavior when John came home. Castiel sighed, only 4 more hours before he would finally know what was really happening in Dean's life.
