10

Sorry for the long hiatus, lovely readers. Holidays and family have really played havoc on my free time. Just want to give a heads up – there is some description of depression and a depressive episode in this chapter. I based this on my own personal experiences with a family member so please forgive me if I make any mistakes or errors. That wasn't my intention. I promise things will start looking up soon. Just some issues to get through first. As always, thank you so much for your comments, without them I don't know where I would get the drive some days. Thanks :)

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Castiel stood at the podium, watching the class as pens scratched across exam papers. The students were writing a midterm essay on the work of their choice. A few looked lost, most wore a slightly panicked expression, and then there was Dean Winchester. He appeared to be breezing through the exam, which was unsurprising, given the quality of work he turned in on a regular basis. While he had completely stopped participating in class, even going so far as to don sunglasses and prop his feet up on the chair in front of him and nap through one lecture, Castiel had only rarely been able to find fault in his work. He had quit calling on Dean during lecture two weeks after the flat tire incident. Dean had gotten so outrageous in some of his responses; Cas had decided avoiding any more potential embarrassment would be the best course of action. And then, Dean had started missing classes. His assignments were still being turned into Cas's inbox on time, but he hadn't attended a lecture in two weeks.

Dean looked tired and haggard. Castiel, knowing that any concern on his part would be unwelcome, knew he shouldn't press the issue, and watched helplessly as Dean seemed to struggle.

Once all of the exams were turned in and the students had gone, Castiel gathered them into a pile and walked down the hall to the stairs to make his way to his office.

"Cassie," he heard someone call from behind him. He turned and looked, to see Balthazar trying to catch up to him.

"Are you ready to go?" Balthazar asked, once he was next to him.

"I'm sorry?" Cas answered, bewildered. "Where are we going?"

"Did you forget, Cassie, my boy?" Balthazar steered him towards the stairs where they began to make their ascent. "I got roped into talking to a high school art club and you, my lovely friend, are going to keep me company."

Cas turned to look at the other man with narrowed eyes, "I don't believe this was ever mentioned before, Balthazar."

Balthazar shrugged unapologetically and practically shoved Castiel into his office. "Maybe I forgot. Grab your coat. It's a bit nippy out."

After dumping the exam papers on his desk, Castiel glared at his friend while shrugging into his coat, "Who thought it was a good idea to let you around impressionable children anyway?"

"Boggles the mind, doesn't it." Balthazar answered as he led the way out of the office.

After the short introduction Balthazar gave Castiel at the beginning of his talk, Castiel quickly paced to the back of the room and proceeded to observe the group from an out of the way location next to the refreshments table. He was wishing he had been able to bring some of his exams to grade while he waited, when a voice spoke up from next to him, startling him out of his musings.

"Excuse me," a tall boy with brown hair that seemed to have a habit of falling forward into his eyes, said as he tried to pass by Cas without touching him.

The boy grabbed a bottle of water and a few carrot sticks from the table before looking sideways at Cas.

"I think you teach my brother at the university," he said, after a moment of careful observation.

Cas turned his head to meet the boy's eyes. "Who is your brother?" He asked, careful to talk quietly and not interrupt Balthazar.

"Dean Winchester." The boy said before uncapping the water bottle and taking a drink. He brushed the hair back from his face before continuing, "My name's Sam."

"Hello, Sam." Castiel said, feeling like Dean's brother pointedly coming up to him was slightly odd. "Yes, I do have Dean in one of my classes."

Sam nodded and looked towards the front of the class where Balthazar was still speaking.

Feeling slightly awkward, Castiel attempted to make conversation. "Are you interested in art, Sam?"

Sam shrugged and turned a rueful grin in Cas's direction. "Not especially. My friend Jess is really into photography. Also," he said, motioning to a tall girl with blonde hair who was listening to Balthazar and a small Asian boy who appeared to be taking notes, "my friend Kevin joined because his mom thought it would look good on his college applications. I kind of got talked into joining."

Cas nodded, unsure of where to go with this conversation. Before he could give it much thought, Sam turned abruptly and asked quietly, "I know you have a lot of students, but you gave Dean a ride home that one time so you might be able to answer this. Has he been acting different?"

Looking into Sam's hazel eyes, much more serious and adult than most people his age, Cas thought carefully before answering.

"I don't know Dean very well, Sam. But, he has seemed more run down lately. I assumed it was exam stress since midterms are upon us right now."

One corner of Sam's mouth flinched downward before he seemed to force a quick, brittle smile. "You're probably right." He said. "It was really nice meeting you Mr. Milton." The boy nodded once and walked back to his seat with his friends before Cas had a chance to respond.

Once Balthazar was finally done talking, the students trickled out slowly. Many stopped by the table at the back to grab a snack before heading out. Cas watched as Sam, Kevin and Jess walked out into the hallway. Balthazar was still talking to the art club sponsor at the front of the room. After waiting patiently for another ten minutes, Castiel realized Balthazar's ulterior motives for talking to the high school group.

"You can head back, Cas." Balthazar said after he crossed the room, once the sponsor started to tidy up from the meeting.

"How are you going to get back to your car?" Castiel asked with irritation, wishing he had known this information earlier.

With a leer and a wink, Balthazar inclined his chin in the direction of the teacher at the front of the room, who was pulling on her coat. "Heather has agreed to have dinner with me so we could discuss our teaching methods."

Castiel rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder it wasn't audible. "I'm sure you'll be discussing a lot of 'technique,' Balthazar." He replied, curling his index and middle fingers in agitated parenthesis.

"Have a nice night, Cassie," Balthazar called as Castiel slung his coat over his arm and stormed out into the hallway.

He pushed his way through the heavy glass double doors and walked into the frigid autumn air. The sun had long since gone down, night falling earlier and earlier as the season progressed. Before he could make his way to his car, Cas noticed two shapes standing near a bike rack at the edge of the parking lot. Sam Winchester was huddled miserably into a brown Carhart jacket, hands thrust into his pockets and a bookbag slumped at his feet; while Kevin was bundled in a parka, gloves, scarf, and some sort of fuzzy stocking cap with a ball at the top.

"Do you boys have a ride?" Castiel asked, worried about the boys standing out in the unseasonably cold temperatures for very long.

Sam and Kevin exchanged a look before Sam responded. "My brother is supposed to be on his way. He isn't answering his cell phone, but he never forgets to pick me up. If he wasn't coming he would have called."

"What about you?" Cas asks, looking at Kevin.

"Dean's supposed to give me a ride home too, my mom's out of town on business."

Narrowing his eyes and glancing between his car and the boys, Castiel hovers uncertainly. A strange man shouldn't really offer to give two teenage boys a ride home, but Dean and Cas were at the least acquaintances, so maybe it would be permissible.

"Why don't we wait a few more minutes? If Dean doesn't show up, I will either call you boys a cab or give you a ride home."

Kevin shrugs while Sam gives Castiel a measuring look.

After a moment, Sam nodded his head. "Alright. Thanks, Mr. Milton."

"You may call me Castiel, Sam…or Cas." He answered. Sam gave a tight smile and turned his gaze to the driveway.

When Sam stormed into the apartment, Dean was curled on the sofa, covered in a blanket, television muttering in the background. The front door slamming open sounded like a gunshot, startling Dean from his cocooned slumber. He blinked blearily and looked around in a daze before taking in the nuclear level bitch face Sam was sending him as he shrugged out of his coat and practically flung his bookbag across the entryway.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam asked, voice raised and obviously upset.

Dean rubbed sleep from his eyes and fumbled for his cell phone lying on the coffee table. He glanced at the screen. After he realized the time and saw the multiple missed calls and texts from Sam, he leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.

"Shit, Sammy. I'm sorry. I don't know—"

Same cut him off before he could continue. "Are you still taking your meds?"

Dean straightened up and glared at him, voice rising in anger as he answered. "What kind of a question is that?"

"Look around, Dean." Sam said, gesturing to the apartment. Where, normally Dean was a bit of a neat freak. Being raised by a former marine can rub off on a person. Dean grew up with hospital corners, organizing canned goods and food boxes labels alphabetical and facing out, minimal clutter and daily tidying. Within the past few months, Sam had noticed Dean's normal habits dropping off. Laundry was piled in the living rooms, dishes constantly in the sink, and the entire situation was so unlike Dean, that Sam was worried. It wasn't that Sam minded cleaning and helping out, he didn't mind at all. And, he had been trying to keep the apartment clean but the total lack of care and effort on Dean's part was completely out of character.

"You aren't acting like yourself. Jo and Charlie are both worried about you. I've talked to Ellen and Bobby; they think something is wrong too." Sam's voice rose and grew more brittle as he continued. "You've missed shifts at The Roadhouse and at the shop and half the time I don't know where you are sleeping at night. I even talked to your professor today, Cas, and he's noticed."

Dean's jaw tightened angrily before he asked, "How did you meet Cas?"

"He gave me and Kevin a ride home today after you didn't show up." Sam shot back.

Dean stood and stomped angrily to his room, before he slammed his door he shouted back to Sam, "I don't need a fucking babysitter, Sam. Give me some space."

Sam stood and scowled down the empty hallway at the closed door, before he turned and walked into the kitchen. He opened the door to the cabinet above the microwave and grabbed the two amber bottles inside and dumped the first onto the kitchen table. With a heavy sigh, he began counting pills.

"I'm calling Dr. Barnes, tomorrow," Sam said later, after quietly opening Dean's door and taking in the huddled form on the bed.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sam. I'm taking my meds. Leave me the hell alone," Dean replied, his voice sounding too weighed down and beaten to be angry.

"I know you are, but obviously they aren't working." Sam walked the few steps into the room and dropped down on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Fine. Call her. But I'm not going back to therapy so tell her to leave out her spiel about Dr. Moseley."

"You can tell her that at your appointment." Sam answered, hesitating before placing a hand on Dean's back. He rubbed softly between Dean's shoulder blades, remembering when Dean would do the same for him when he was sick or hurting when they were younger.

Dean was quiet for a long time. The only sound in the darkened room their quiet breathing, the muffled sound of a television in the next apartment and the occasional car passing outside.

"I'm so tired, Sam." Dean's voice hitches, a broken sound, buried in the pillow beneath his head. "I'm just fucking exhausted."

Sam nods even though he knows Dean can't see it. "I'm here, Dean. I'm here."

Sam waited until Dean's shoulders quit shaking and his breathing evened out. Once he knew his brother had managed to fall asleep, he returned to the living room and kitchen to straighten up and make dinner before trying to finish his homework without getting distracted by his thoughts.