Dean stops in front of the school's infirmary (why can't they just call it a nurse's office? fucking snobs), takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out in a whoosh before he opens the door and walks in. The nurse, a pretty brunette named Tessa, purses her lips when Dean comes in, but doesn't bother trying to stop him. Which is a very, very good thing.
Cas doesn't look surprised to see him. He's sitting on one of the raised exam tables, holding an ice pack to one swollen, blackening eye. The other burns with an otherworldly blue intensity as it devours the sight of Dean.
Cas looks like shit. The left side of his face is one giant bruise. His lip is split and still bleeding slowly. His shirt is dirty and torn, and one of the knees in his slacks is ripped open from seam to seam, almost an imitation of Dean's jeans.
Cas widens his legs to let Dean stand between his knees in front of him. Dean's hands tremble with pain and fury when he cups Cas' face. Cas lets the ice pack fall away, giving Dean the rest of the picture
"Oh, baby," Dean whispers. He presses his forehead gently against Cas'. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dean," Cas assures him softly. "They surprised me, that's the only reason it's this bad."
"Where?"
"Outside, behind the bleachers." Dean cocks an eyebrow and Cas sighs. "I was trying to do Professor Tran a favor."
"Who did this, Cas?"
Cas looks him dead in the eye. "Azazel and his shitty little gang. Talley did most of the damage." He indicates the eye he's covered with the ice pack again.
Dean nods once. "All right." He leans forward to press his mouth very, very gently against Cas' busted lips. When he pulls away, he whispers. "I gotta go take care of this. I love you."
There is no protest. Cas knows who Dean is, how Dean operates. He knows this won't go unaddressed. He knows there's no stopping Dean until blood has been spilled in retribution.
Instead, he says simply, "I love you, too."
"Got a ride home?"
"'Zar is on his way."
"All right. I'll come by later tonight, yeah?"
"I'll be expecting you."
Dean calls Benny, Jesse, and Pamela, and tells them each to bring a couple more people. God knows Azazel and his crew will be next to nothing or them to handle, but this is about more than kicking their asses. This is about revenge, about hitting them so hard and so fast they'll hardly know they've even been hit. About doing to them what they did to Cas, only meaner and messier.
This is about sending a message.
Cas may be a Novak, but first and foremost he's Dean's. No one touches any of Dean's people and gets away unscathed, but you would have to be a special brand of really fucking stupid to touch Cas.
So now there's a lesson to be taught, a message to be sent, written in blood and spoken in violence.
Lucky for Dean, blood and violence were his first languages.
He gets to Cas' house a little past seven that evening. Anna, bless her sweet little heart, opens the door before Dean can knock, takes one look at him and what he's got in his hand, and sneaks him up the stairs to Cas' room without a word.
Cas is sitting on his bed, propped up against the headboard, reading in the low light of the lamp beside his bed. He looks up when the door opens and gives Dean a small, tired smile. Dean's heart thumps hard against his ribcage in response.
He already left his shoes at the door, but he slips his jacket off, and after a moment's thought, his jeans, too. He grabs Cas' gift and crawls into bed next to him. Cas lifts the covers obligingly and presses against Dean's side under his arm as soon as he's settled.
Dean hands the bakery bag over. "Two cake donuts with icing and rainbow sprinkles, one chocolate and one vanilla."
Cas heaves a happy sigh and cuddles closer while opening the bag. "You're a godsend."
Dean kisses his temple. "Damn right. How're you feeling?"
"Very sore. Tired. Like I'd like to stuff these donuts down my throat and sleep for a year."
Dean smiles, but he knows it's strained. He's glad Cas is looking down at his pastries. "Well, I got the donuts covered, and I can offer at least eight hours of sleep. Sam and Anna are covering for us, so I can stay with you 'till morning. I'll sneak out the window and swing Baby around, make your mom think I'm picking you up for school."
Cas smiles faintly. "She despises when you pick me up for school."
"'S why I suggested it."
Cas melts into him a little and Dean holds him gently as he slowly eats his donuts, being careful of his lip. Cas doesn't have a lot of weird little quirks, but donuts as comfort food was one of the first that Dean learned.
Once Cas is done and Dean has tossed the bag into a trash can across the room, Cas reaches for Dean's hand and pulls it into his lap. Dean lets him, watching with his nose buried in Cas' hair (reminding himself that Cas is safe now and that Dean took care of it) as Cas traces Dean's knuckles with a feather-light touch. They're split open on both hands, no longer bleeding but obviously only hours old. There's really only one way to get wounds like that.
"Thank you," Cas says softly, finally.
"Anything for you, gorgeous," Dean whispers, and means it more than he's ever meant anything.
Azazel Masters and Jake Talley don't come back to school.
- Cake donuts with icing and rainbow sprinkles = life.
