When Castiel got home he was greeted by the sight of his father, sober and working on papers at the dining room table.
He should show him his test grade. If he showed him how he earned over a one hundred maybe his father would let him eat. Maybe he would be proud of him.
Castiel had been hesitant about showing his father the grade ever since he saw him Sunday morning. Mr. Novak had been too busy to give Castiel the usual insult or grunt, for he was working animatedly on his client's case. Castiel was grateful for this, because that meant drinking around the house went down from numerous glasses of whiskey and bottles of beer to a glass of wine before bed. This had caused a calmer atmosphere between the father and son, and Castiel had even dared to work on his homework in the living room where his father was working that night. The man rolled a wary gaze towards the blue-eyed boy, but he hadn't commented on it, since Castiel made it a point to work very studiously. They had continued like that until eleven at night when Castiel had bid his father goodnight and the older man gave a grunt of acknowledgement. That recognition alone had given Castiel enough ease to fall asleep right away, slipping into a dreamless slumber.
So, encouraged by the thought that perhaps his father was feeling charitable, Castiel walked hesitantly to the dining table where the older man sat. "Uhm, Dad?" he asked hesitantly, his voice sounding shy and foreign to him in the quiet of the dining room.
His father must have been in a fairly charitable mood, because he didn't even try to correct Castiel's "dad" into a "sir". He looked up at Castiel from his seat, deep authoritative eyes meeting shifty, vulnerable ones. "Yes, Castiel?" he asked in an almost bored fashion, his voice a deep drawl.
Castiel squirmed nervously in his spot, and pulled off his backpack to grab his math test, trying to ease the shaking of his fingers. "Uh, I have something to show you," he told him as he pulled out the packet, placing it neatly in front of his father- being sure to position it far enough away from the numerous amount of scattered papers so as not to disturb them.
His father raised an eyebrow as he picked up the packet, looking at the grade on top, circled in red ink. Castiel felt a surge of self-pride. He had gotten a really amazing grade. He worked so hard and studied till his eyes wouldn't stay open and his brain wouldn't allow him to. Castiel had worked non-stop to get this grade. Maybe his father would take note of Castiel's effort? Perhaps his father would compliment his laborious work?
Watching as the older man skimmed through the packet, he noticed that he was flipping pages with a scrutinizing look- as though he were looking for an error the teacher had missed because there was "no way his son could have made this score". "How did you get the extra five points?" he asked almost angrily, critical eyes looking up at Castiel. "You didn't beg your teacher for them, did you?" he asked in an accusatory tone.
"No, sir," Castiel replied fast, his heart beat loud in his ears. He was starting to regret his decision. "No, I- uh, well I corrected two mistakes she made on the test. She said nobody else had noticed it, so she assigned me five extra points."
"So you made a one hundred," Castiel's father remarked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Castiel felt his heart skip a beat and lodge itself into his throat. "Well, I made a one hundred and five-"
"And is your math average an A, now?" Castiel's father asked challengingly.
Castiel felt his shoulders droop as he opened his mouth slightly, then closed it. He looked down at his feet. "No, sir," he replied softly.
Mr. Novak tossed the test back onto the table. "Then don't come telling me about this sort of nonsense until you do. What do you want, a treat? I couldn't give less of a crap about what you made on a test," his father muttered as he automatically went back to his work- as if he had wasted precious time acknowledging his son.
Castiel felt as though he had been smacked across the face, but he swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yes, sir," he whispered as he picked up his paper with shaky hands and made his way to his room. His heart was heavy in his chest and tears were running down his face before he could even close his door behind him.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-" Castiel murmured to himself as he tore his packet in half, throwing the remains into his trash can. "So stupid, why did I do that?" Castiel murmured as he sunk onto the floor, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears as he took deep, shaky breaths.
Of course his father wouldn't care. Why did he show him? It didn't matter what he got on his test, because it simply shouldn't matter! He should have an A and he shouldn't have to feel the need to show his father he was doing well. Only idiots showed their parents their good grades in hope for praise. He should always have good grades to the point where it'd be unnecessary to prove himself to his father. His father didn't have to deal with a reminder of Castiel's idiocy.
Taking another deep breath, Castiel removed his hands from his eyes and he leaned back against the wall behind him, letting out a long, shaky sigh.
He needed to get his grade up to an A, again. He was so close. Castiel needed his father's approval and praise more than anything. His body yearned for it, his mind screamed for it, and his aching heart begged for it. Approval was all he needed to be happy, at this point. Acceptance was all he needed. He didn't know how much longer he could live with just his own depressed and self-destructive company to sustain him. He didn't want the guilt approval that Mrs. Madison gave him. He didn't want the approval he got from his (previous) friends- they didn't know the whole story, so their acceptance was merely in response to their own ignorance of the whole situation.
Castiel needed true acceptance. And he knew the only person that could grant him that was his father. His father was harsh and cruel and incredibly blunt when it came to his opinions and thoughts on Castiel. If he could truly manage to make his father accept him, then that would be enough to fill this hole in his chest. It would be enough to convince him that he wasn't in the wrong, and that he was worthy of love.
Filled with a sudden motivation, now, Castiel got up from his spot on the floor. He would stop at nothing to please his father. He would do anything for approval. He would do whatever it takes.
Dean had texted Cas after school to see if he wanted a ride. And, of course, Castiel didn't respond. When he picked up Sammy, the young teen was shocked.
"Where's Castiel?" Sam asked as he sidled into the passenger seat and closed the door behind him. "Is he still not carpooling with us?"
"No, Sammy, he's not," Dean replied gruffly as he pulled out of the middle school, making his way to their awaiting condo.
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Are you two fighting or something?" he inquired.
Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. "No," he replied.
"Well, didn't you see him in school?"
"Yes."
"Did he say why he didn't want a ride, then?"
"Damnit, Sam, no, he didn't say why he didn't want a ride. He didn't say much of anything today, in fact," Dean replied as he stopped jerkily at a red light, cursing under his breath. He wanted to get home and try contacting Cas, again. He hated feeling like this whole thing was his fault and he wanted this damned situation to get done and over with!
Sam was silent for a few seconds. "So… you are fighting," he stated.
Dean turned up the radio, letting the loud music serve as a hint for Sammy to shut the hell up.
The boy took notice of the gesture and remained quiet throughout the drive.
When they got home, Bobby's car was parked on the road outside the house in the same spot that it had been in during the weekend. Their uncle had stayed over for the weekend, and Dean had been sure that Bobby was going to head back home while they were at school, today.
"Awesome! I didn't know Bobby was staying over more," Sam exclaimed with a smile as he got out of Dean's car.
Dean followed him to the front door. "Yeah, neither did I," he remarked.
They walked into the house to the aroma of fried chicken and the sight of Bobby sitting on the sofa, drinking a bottle of beer. "Hello, boys," he greeted them.
"Hey, Bobby!" Sam called, a bright smile on his face. "What're you doing here?" he asked as Sam and Dean both filed into the living room, tossing their bags onto the floor.
Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Y'didn't think I'd leave you two idjits alone on Thanksgiving week, did you? S'far as I know, you two would end up lightin' the house on fire. What kind of low opinion do you have of your uncle, boy?" he asked. He was teasing Sam, of course. Idjits, in Bobby's vocabulary, was a term of endearment.
"Did Dad ask you to stay?" Dean asked as he looked at his uncle skeptically, a smirk on his face.
Bobby looked at Dean. "He asked me to keep an eye out for you two," Bobby admitted. "Not like he needed to, I was already gonna come over here for Thanksgiving whether you two liked it or not," he stated.
Sam gave a snort and made his way to the kitchen. "You made us dinner, too?" he asked.
"Ah, don't get used to it," Bobby growled at him. "I ain't your nanny."
"Thanks, Bobby," Sam replied from the kitchen.
Dean sat down on a chair and pulled out his cellphone from his pocket. No messages from Cas. Resisting the urge to throw his phone across the room, Dean texted Castiel again. He kept it simple, since it was about the tenth text he sent to Castiel, today.
Dean: Hey, man. If I did anything that pissed you off, I'm sorry.
He pressed send before he could change his mind, and then he shoved his cellphone back in his pocket.
"What the hell is eatin' at you?" Bobby asked him from across the living room.
Dean looked up at him, green eyes meeting blue. His eyes had widened at Bobby's comment, but he returned his facial expression to neutral. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, for one thing, I made fried chicken and you didn't hop at it the second you got home. It's only been a year since I've been around you, boy. The Dean Winchester I know does not ignore fried chicken," Bobby stated.
Dean sat up in his seat. "Well, what if I'm just not hungry?" he asked.
After a snort, Bobby replied. "Good one."
It was silent for a few seconds, then Bobby spoke up again.
"Tell me what's botherin' you, Dean," Bobby repeated.
Dean let out a sigh. "It doesn't matter. It's no big deal, alright?"
Bobby rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't give me that bull. If you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine. But don't go being all sissy-like and saying crap like 'it doesn't matter'," Bobby chastised him.
Dean kept his stare emotionless and hard. "Alright," he replied before getting up and picking up his backpack. "I'll be in my room," he told him.
"You need to work on your communicating skills, boy," Bobby called after him.
Dean rolled his eyes. The only one that needed to work on communicating skills at the moment was Cas. Honestly, who ignores someone without giving a good and honest reason? Like, come on, what did that kid want from him? Dean had gotten so desperate for an explanation that he had even texted Cas saying sorry. Dean Winchester never asked for someone's forgiveness. He never had to, because most of the time he didn't care enough to get involved with people this much. Dean couldn't even remember the last time he said sorry before Cas.
Emptying his backpack contents on his desk, Dean got to work. He hadn't been paying attention in school all day because of his constant thoughts about Castiel. Now he had to try and figure out what he missed and what he needed to work on.
But, of course, all he could think about was Cas.
After trying to work on his homework for forty minutes, Dean gave up and went to the kitchen to stuff his face with chicken and sneak a few beers into his room.
When morning came Castiel felt like doing anything but going to school. The thought of seeing Dean terrified him, and he knew that the blond boy would be pissed the next time he saw him. Thoughts of proving himself to his father was what eventually got him out of the safety of his sheets. So Castiel resignedly dressed himself for the day and made his way to school, being sure to take his time so he could get to homeroom late. When Castiel got there it was as the second the bell rang, and he slipped into the room as soon as Mr. Dawson was calling role. Dean looked up at Castiel from his desk, but he didn't say anything as he stared down Castiel, watching him until the dark-haired boy took his seat. Dean was still sitting next to him, Castiel noted. There was no way he'd leave Castiel be without an explanation, he realized. And he deserved one- he really did. But Castiel was not going to bring Dean further and further into his messed up life. He wasn't going to be that selfish, anymore.
Castiel shifted in his seat uncomfortably underneath Dean's penetrating stare. He knew that as soon as Mr. Dawson was done with attendance and making announcements he'd get pestered by Dean.
And he did.
"Cas, come on," he spoke to him. "What did I do?" he asked, facing Cas in his seat, looking at his friend with genuine care on his normally stoic face.
Castiel stared at his desk. Ignore him. Just ignore him, that'll be so much easier. It would be easier than the guilt you'd get if you tell him the truth. A few minutes passed without Dean talking, again, and when the bell rang Castiel got up and made his way to the door-
Only to be blocked by Dean, who had practically raced Castiel to get there, first.
Dean grabbed onto Castiel's shoulder, stopping him from moving forward as he barred the doorway. "You're not running away from me, again," he told him, an angry look on his face, now.
Castiel froze in his spot, shocked by Dean's touch and words. Although he was angry, Dean wasn't hurting Castiel with his grip. It was comforting, and Castiel's body ached for Dean's support. But he realized where they were and looked behind him where the rest of the homeroom was grumpily waiting for them to move, blocked from their exit by the two teens.
Dean didn't seem to care as he stared down Castiel, and the blue-eyed boy knew he had to speak.
"Dean," he said in a low tone, his voice gruff from not being used much, recently. "Let me through."
So Dean did. He grabbed tighter onto Castiel's shoulder (making the wounds there ache) and pulled him out into the hallway, placing him right against the wall to next to the door. "Talk to me, Cas," he whispered once the homeroom had walked away, everyone giving the two curious glances and whispering to one another. "Why the hell have you been ignoring me?" Dean asked, his voice going from a whisper to an almost desperate tone. Castiel felt his heart sink. Now was his chance. Now he had to tell Dean that he did not want to be near him, anymore.
But he decided he couldn't. He couldn't look Dean in the eyes and tell him to get lost. He couldn't tell Dean that he didn't want to be around him because that was not true. Castiel didn't want to say these things when his heart screamed the opposite.
He couldn't drag Dean down with him, though. That was the last thing he'd let happen.
"It's not of your concern," Castiel replied, looking into Dean's attentive eyes. "I would just rather be left alone, from now on… specifically by you," he told him.
Dean's mouth fell open, but he didn't speak. He looked shocked- hurt- all the emotions that Castiel had dreaded seeing now marked Dean's features. His eyebrows twisted together, worrying his young face as his eyes grew big- searching for some error in Castiel's words. "Cas-"
"It's Castiel," the teen replied curtly. Dean looked so taken aback and wounded, and Castiel wished he hadn't gone that extra step.
Unable to handle the heartbreaking expression, Castiel took this opportunity to leave and walk as fast as he could to his next class.
It was over. Now Dean would never speak to him again.
Castiel knew he should be happy for Dean. He knew that now Dean's life would go the way it was supposed to. He knew that Dean and the others would just get tangled in dangerous situations if they were to remain close to him.
But the selfish side of him overtook his mind, and all Castiel truly felt was the need to end his life.
Class with Castiel had gone terribly. Dean felt like yelling at him. He felt like shaking Castiel's shoulders and demanding an explanation for his sudden complete shift in personality. Dean thought Castiel was happy being around him. He thought he made Castiel feel better, after being bullied so terribly by Alastair. He thought they both enjoyed each others company.
Maybe Castiel was never happy being friends with Dean. Maybe Dean had unintentionally dragged Castiel out of his comfort zone. Maybe Dean had forced Castiel to be his friend when, in all honesty, Castiel didn't want to be.
Dean had continually tried to make conversation with Castiel the first day they met, and the next few days after that. Then, almost a month after they met, Dean had basically kidnapped Castiel and taken him to his house where he force fed the kid. Dean had told Castiel that the way he could repay him would be to not ignore him. Maybe Castiel was just forcing himself to be friendly with Dean just as a way of paying back a debt?
Damnit, Dean felt so dumb. It was obvious from the beginning. Castiel seemed so silent and uncomfortable around Dean. Of course it was because he never wanted to be around him in the first place.
This was why Dean didn't try at this kind of crap. This was why Dean sucked at keeping up relationships with people, besides Sam. Who even needed friends, anyways? Dean didn't need anybody. He never did and he never will. Dean pulled himself through his life all on his own. He pulled Sammy through the chaos, and all the while he kept himself together, too. Why was Cas so different than the others? What made that bastard sneak into Dean's field of interest?
Dean wondered and wondered and tried to figure it out. But he just couldn't seem to put the pieces together. Castiel was just a regular guy. Sure, he was strange and he talked like a kid from the damn 1800s, at times. But, in all honesty, he was still just some random kid at one of the many random schools Dean would be attending. Why try and make a connection with the guy when Dean knew he would more than likely be leaving in a couple of months?
Dean's mind had been so preoccupied, he hadn't even noticed Jo trying to get his attention.
"Damnit, Dean," she exclaimed, punching his shoulder.
Grasping his shoulder- because, he wasn't going to lie, that actually hurt- Dean looked at Jo, a bewildered expression in his eyes. "What the hell-"
"We've been asking you where Cas is," Jo told him. "We asked like, ten times. What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked. They were all sitting at their lunch table. Dean had gone to check Castiel's math class before lunch but had come out empty-handed. There had been no sign of a messy mop of dark hair or startling blue eyes in the crowd of kids that filed out of the room. Dean hadn't seen Castiel since literature, and honestly he was too shocked by Castiel's news to even try and talk to him during that class. Castiel hadn't given him a glance as he walked out of the room, but Dean had stared down the kid with wide eyes, as though he were some sort of rare and magical unicorn. It was quite pathetic, Dean realized, and Mrs. Madison had looked at him sympathetically and mumbled, "Give him some time," as Dean had walked out the door.
Those words alone were what got Dean to check Castiel's math class. Maybe this had to do more with Castiel than Dean. Maybe Castiel was going through more than Dean could even imagine.
He seriously needed to know the connection between Mrs. Madison and Castiel, because it seemed as though those two knew something he didn't. It kinda bugged him that Castiel trusted his English teacher more than Dean, church buddies or not. But he let it slide. He'd have to confront Mrs. Madison, sometime soon. He needed to figure out as much as he could about Castiel.
Something in the back of his mind told him that Castiel truly needed him, whether he admitted it or not.
Realizing Jo and the group were waiting for an answer, Dean shrugged. "I have no idea where the hell he heads off to for lunch when he's not here. I bet he goes to the library or something. He's been really antsy around me- I don't really know what's going on with him," Dean explained. "He hasn't been the same since Saturday morning."
Jo and the others looked concerned at Dean's words, but Charlie wasn't even paying attention to the group as she gazed at the other side of the lunchroom.
"What're you looking at?" Adam asked from beside her, leaning around her shoulder to try and see what was so interesting.
Charlie's lips twisted into a small frown, and she spoke. "Does nobody else feel uneasy at the fact that Alastair and his friends aren't at their lunch table?" Charlie asked as she nodded a head towards the table on the other side of the room.
Dean looked over to where Charlie was gazing and found the table that he had sat at merely a week ago. She was right. It was nearly empty, no sign of Alastair or any of the bully's closest companions.
"That's strange," Chuck murmured, nervously.
"Where do you think they went?" Ash asked, looking at Charlie, then at Dean.
Dean looked at the group, and realized they were all staring at him. He raised his eyebrows. "What? How am I supposed to know?"
"Well, none of us have ever had VIP access to Alastair's table, before," Jo replied sarcastically through a bitchface expression that could even beat Sam's. "Where do you think he went, Dean?""
Dean gave a snort and rolled his eyes. "I don't know," Dean replied. "Why does it even matter, anyways?" he asked as he looked down at his sandwich, picking at the crusts as he tossed them around his spot at the table.
The table was silent, and Dean looked up at them. They were all sharing a knowing, worried look. "Wait, what?" Dean asked. "What's that look for?"
Jo turned back to Dean, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked genuinely worried at the realization that the whole table was thinking the same thing as her. "So, doesn't it kind of seem a little strange that Alastair and his strongest back up jocks all left lunch on a day that Cas skipped?" Jo asked, brown eyes searching Dean's.
Dean felt his blood shoot ice cold, and he looked back at the bully's table. She was right. Gordon was gone as well, and he was the second worst to Castiel, right behind Alastair. Automatically, Dean stood up, pushing his chair back with a loud scraping noise.
"We're searching the school. Now."
Castiel was reading a book when it happened. He hadn't even heard them approach. The next thing he knew he was being dragged upwards roughly by his arms and pinned against a tree trunk, his arms bound behind him and around the sides of the trunk by beefy hands, making him drop his book into the leaves below him. After letting out a yelp and kicking around in shock, he noticed Alastair in front of him, kicking his backpack away and letting books and papers spill out of it as he did so. Then, without uttering one of his usual greetings, Alastair kicked Castiel right at his abdomen, causing Castiel to double over as far as he could, screaming in pain and gasping wheezy breaths into his burning lungs. Alastair sent one more kick at the bound teen, and then threw a punch at Castiel's already injured cheek, encouraged by Castiel's cries and desperate, breathless pleas. Castiel squirmed desperately as he tried to move out of the way of assaults he could not do much to avoid. He blocked a few assaults by kicking, but that only irked Alastair further.
After a strong punch to Castiel's jaw, the assailant lifted up Castiel's head by the chin, making the wheezing boy look into his eyes. Alastair's eyes were filled with malice, glaring at Castiel as though he were the scum of all things evil in the world. "You know what today is, Cassie?" Alastair hissed, venom lacing his tone. He let go of Castiel's face and gave it another punch in the same spot, allowing Castiel to let out another yell of pain and gasp in a breath before he grabbed at the back of Castiel's head, grasping his hair tight in his hand as he bent Castiel's head back as far as it would go. The grip on Castiel's hair brought upon a searing pain in the boy's skull, making him hiss with pain. Blood trickled down Castiel's lip and painted his teeth, and he coughed, choking on the crimson liquid as it dribbled down his throat. His lip had been cut by his teeth when Alastair had punched him, and now the blood filled his mouth and laced his tongue with the taste of salt and iron. Alastair leaned in close, his lips nearly brushing Castiel's ear as he whispered, "It's his birthday."
He let go of Castiel's head again with a shove and gave his abdomen another kick, making Castiel curl up as much as the two people pinning his arms would allow as he yelped in agony, his body pulsing with pain that spread from the area of affect to his fingers and toes, filling his body with a stinging ache. He thrashed in his tight and constricting bondage, the skin on his wrists burning as he twisted and turned to get free. Alastair grasped tightly at Castiel's neck, making the boy moan in pain as he coughed and let his tears fall, forced to look into Alastair's eyes. "It also happens to be the day she killed herself," Alastair whispered. "You remember, right? You remember how much my mother grieved after you took away her son?" he asked in an accusatory tone, kicking Castiel, again. "I have to go to a fucking graveyard just to say happy birthday to my brother! And It's your fucking fault! It's your fault that I have no one left!" he yelled in Castiel's ear, making the teen cringe and whimper.
"I know!" he exclaimed, looking into Alastair's eyes with tear-filled blue orbs as he began to undergo spasms, his body shaking with fear and anxiety. Alastair had never taken it this far- he'd never dare to hurt Castiel so much, especially not at school. Castiel felt fear grasp him as he wondered how far the teen would go. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" he cried out, trying to make Alastair stop as thick tears fell down his cheeks, overflowing in his eyes. He was in pain- so much pain. He wanted them to just leave him here to bleed and cry in peace.
Alastair growled and grabbed Castiel by the collar of his shirt, dragging him up to meet his eyes- all the while the strangers holding his wrists gripped onto them tighter so he couldn't escape. "'Sorry' ain't gonna bring them back, Novak. It's all your fault. You killed my family," he hissed, his eyes filled with so much hurt and hatred that Castiel couldn't look into them for too long, his mind drowned in too much guilt. Then, pulling Castiel towards him and shoving him back against the tree, Alastair whispered something else. "Your momma killed my family, and it's all your fault. And now she's dead, too," he whispered heavily, panting with white-hot rage. He smiled now, enjoying the look of pure self-loathing in Castiel's eyes. "How does it feel to know that you're the reason your mommy is dead?" he taunted before letting go of Castiel and giving him another strong kick.
"Please- Alastair! I'm sorry- I'm so sorry," Castiel cried out, sobbing now as he gasped in painful breaths, choking on blood as he tried to fill his lungs with air. He coughed and cried out nonsense as the hands did not loosen on his wrists. "Let me go! Please, just let me go!" Castiel begged
"Say it," Alastair hissed. "I want to hear you say it, you coward!" he commanded.
Castiel shook his head, crying- his shoulders shaking with his sobs. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to say those words that constantly haunted him, day after day. He couldn't give in to them, because once he did there was no going back. He'd have a panic attack and at this point Castiel was sure he'd end his own life, if Alastair didn't do it for him. Another kick to his beaten body and Castiel broke, unable to hold up his stubborn silence."It's all my fault! It's my fault they're dead and I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry," he cried, completely in hysterics now as his body convulsed and heaved with thick breaths that scratched at his throat, boiling within him. Castiel was shaking all over and gasping with heavy sobs, unable to get enough air into his lungs as he let out hard, wailing wheezes of air.
It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault.
That damned sentence was all that ran through his head as the words continued, flowing out of Alastair's mouth- stinging more than the punches and kicks ever could. It was all his mind could cry out. It was all he could believe.
Dean and Jo had agreed to search outside while the others searched around the inside of the school. They had checked everywhere- all around the bleachers, the gym track and field, and even the back dumpsters where Dean had found Castiel just last week. The boy was nowhere to be found. When Dean met up with Jo at the track, she was empty-handed, as well.
"Damnit, where is he?" Dean asked, feeling really panicky now as he ran a hand through his hair, looking around him- as if Castiel would suddenly appear, unharmed and talking to Dean once again.
"Maybe he just went home?" Jo suggested, although she didn't sound too confident about the statement.
Dean shook his head. "He never misses class. At least, not from what I've learned about him," Dean told her. "I thought that he'd be out here, somewhere. He likes being places where he can be alone," Dean said almost to himself. "Did any of the others text you?" he asked.
Jo checked her phone. "No," she reported as she shoved her phone back into her jacket pocket. The blond girl looked around outside. Her eyebrows rose in inspiration and Dean could almost see the lightbulb go off over her head. "The forest! We haven't checked the trees around the school!" She told him, brown eyes wide.
Dean could have hugged Jo at that moment because damnit that was just so Castiel he couldn't even believe he had not thought of it, in the first place. "Let's go," he urged with a pat on her shoulder and they searched through the forest that surrounded the back of the school. There was no time to waste.
It wasn't long before they heard the cries.
When they got closer to the source of the noise, they could see what clearly looked like a group of guys surrounding a tree.
Crap.
Dean saw Castiel's head jerk forward and fall limp on the other side of the tree, could hear cries of pain.
"Hey!" Dean bellowed as he and Jo ran at the group of kids. They were concealed by shadows, but Dean knew all too well who they were.
Before they could get to them, though, the group sprinted off, leaving Castiel behind, who drooped and fell to the leafy ground with a muffled thump. Dean got to Castiel and Jo ran after the group of kids, chasing them with inhuman speed. Dean grasped at Castiel's shoulders, lifting up the boy gently to look at him "Cas!" he called out to him. "Cas, buddy, are you okay?" Dean asked, trying to get the boy's unfocused eyes to look at him.
When he finally did, Castiel looked horrified.
"No, no- Dean, please," he murmured as he tried to pull away. "Don't, just leave. Leave me alone," he begged, his voice rising in panic.
Despite how much it hurt to hear those words, Dean shook his head, stubbornly. "Enough with that shit, Cas. I'm not going anywhere," he told him, holding onto Castiel's upper arms, now, supporting him. Castiel had grasped Dean's right arm with his left hand, trying to look into Dean's eyes beggingly.
"Dean, no. I don't-"
Before he could finish, though, Jo appeared, out of breath. "I couldn't catch up with them- they got away," she panted. "I recognized Alastair, though. And I think I saw Gordon with him. There was one other," she reported.
"Jo, Cas is hurt," Dean told her. They could deal with Alastair later, but right now Castiel needed them. "Help me get him to the nurse," he instructed as he started to lift up Castiel.
But the teen wouldn't have it.
He started crying hysterically, pulling Dean down with all his might as he wailed. "Dont- no, Dean, please! Leave me alone- my fault, all my fault," he sobbed, squirming on the ground as he tried to free himself from Dean's grasp, jerking this way and that and pulling at his arms, trying to free them from Dean's grasp. Dean's eyes widened as he sat with Castiel, putting a hand between the teen's shoulders as the other one remained grasped onto Castiel's arm, trying to calm him. "Not worth it, don't help I'm not worth it- I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it, I don't deserve i-it," Castiel sobbed, curling into himself as he wrapped his arms around his abdomen, now, gasping in heavy sobs as he coughed and cried and let out heaving, spastic breaths, his body shaking with the effort.
Dean and Jo were silent with shock, not sure what to do as the boy cried. Then Dean came back to Earth and looked at Jo. "Go get the nurse. Bring her here, now," he ordered her. "Tell her it's an emergency. I'll calm down Cas," he told her. Jo stayed still, though, staring at Castiel wide eyes, seeming terrified. "Damnit, Jo!" Dean exclaimed, and the blond girl started at Dean's frustration. "Now!"
Jo seemed jumped back to life as she looked at Dean, then Cas, then back to Dean. Blinking, she nodded and ran off.
Dean focused on Castiel, now, putting an arm around the sobbing boy as he put a hand gently on the side of Castiel's head, trying to get the teen to look at him. "Cas," he told him softly. "Cas, c'mon, look up- look at me. Let me see ya," he ordered him sternly.
Castiel shook his head fiercely, his hands on his face, now, as he sobbed through his fingers, which were digging roughly into his his skin. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he cried wetly into his hands. "Don't touch me, don't help- I don't deserve it! I'm not good enough- I'm not worthy- leave me here, leave me here, leave me he-here," he sobbed loudly, ears tinged red and voice sounding nothing like the calm, gravelly tone Dean had grown accustomed to.
He suddenly grew angry at Castiel's words. The desperate cries started up something inside Dean and it made his body hot with rage. "Cut the "I'm not worthy" crap, Cas!" he yelled at him, grasping Castiel's wrists and yanking his hands off his face as he looked at the teen, eyes meeting red glassy ones. "It's all bull!" he told him. "Who told you that shit?" he asked, looking desperately into the sad blue spheres that gazed back at him. Castiel's eyebrows were scrunched together, his face twisted into a kicked puppy expression as he gasped for breaths, shaking his head nonstop and murmuring under his breath as he tore his gaze away from Dean. It automatically reminded him of when Sam used to come crying to Dean, and it broke his heart. Castiel was still crying- his face was flushed red with sobs, and tears dampened his cheeks and darkened his lashes. He looked like a mess. A broken, beaten mess. The worst part for Dean was looking into Castiel's eyes. They screamed with so much pain that Dean couldn't bear to look for too long. Castiel's sanity was truly shattered into a million pieces, Dean suddenly realized. Castiel was far gone and had Dean never noticed until now.
Dean kept his grip on Castiel's wrists, even though it made the boy wince. "Whoever told you you're not good enough doesn't know shit, Cas," Dean told him intensely, gazing into blue orbs and forcing the boy to keep their gaze. "And the fact that you believe that crap is just as worse," he hissed, gripping tighter and making Castiel cringe. "You are not unworthy of anything, Cas! Damnit, man, listen to yourself! Do you honestly believe that?" Dean asked, frustrated and upset with the words he had heard his friend cry through broken sobs.
His heart stopped when he looked deeper into Castiel's eyes and realized… he did believe it. He did believe he wasn't worthy of anything good- that he wasn't even worthy of living. Castiel truly meant every word he had uttered.
Dean automatically realized he had been going at this the wrong way. Castiel was still crying heavily, unable to breath in good breaths as he coughed and sobbed and heaved, his body convulsing with his panic attack.
That's when Dean knew what he had to do.
Sucking in his pride, Dean put his hands on Castiel's shoulders and pulled him in roughly for a hug, holding the teen tight to still him from his spasms, letting the tremors travel through his own body as he absorbed all the horrible shaking the tiny boy emitted. Castiel froze in Dean's grasp, although his body still quivered, and Dean could feel him give in and rest his face into the crook of Dean's neck as he tried to calm his breathing and let out the last of his sobs.
After a couple of minutes Castiel had calmed completely and Dean's shoulder was thoroughly stained with tears and other fluids. Dean still held him, though, until Castiel grew disconcertingly still and Dean pulled him away to see that the boy had passed out with exhaustion, the color in his face slowly starting to go back to normal as his breathing evened and his body went limp. Blood covered Castiel's lips and dribbled down his chin, and his left cheek and jaw were starting to bruise and swell. Castiel looked completely fatigued in Dean's arms, and the blond boy felt his breath catch in his throat.
He found himself unable to help but stare at his friend's bloodied face and battered body. Dean looked away and shook his head, trying to stop himself from crying, as well, his heart pounding sickeningly in his chest, making him want to throw up. Castiel hated himself. He truly believed all the things that Alastair had convinced him he was. And Dean had thought that Castiel's behavior had been his fault. Castiel was broken, and Dean knew now that the blue-eyed boy needed someone to help him repair himself- someone to prove to him that he mattered. He now knew that this whole thing was a whole lot bigger than he was.
"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. "I was here- I was fucking here. You should've told me," he murmured through clenched teeth, letting out a sigh as he forced himself to keep his gaze off of Castiel.
And Dean held Castiel until the nurse- a kind Jamaican lady that Dean had seen in the halls a couple of times- and Jo arrived, helping Dean lift the boy off of his lap and take him to the safety of the nurse's office. Castiel had woken up in a delirious state, unable to speak or comprehend much, and he let his friends help him into the school after Jo and Dean had gathered Castiel's discarded and scattered school supplies for him. Dean and Jo had to answer question upon question, and they told the nurse everything- how they suspected Alastair and his friends were the ones behind it, how they were Castiel's friends and had gone looking for him during lunch when he didn't show, and how Castiel had been picked on relentlessly before by Alastair and his friends.
When they got to the nurse's office they laid Castiel down, and he promptly passed out, once more. Then the nurse went to work, closing the office off and keeping Jo and Dean inside so they could help her sort out the whole mess. The school records didn't contain Castiel's emergency contact information (since apparently he somehow avoided turning it in), so Dean just claimed it was himself, and had a long debate with the nurse on how he was perfectly capable of taking care of Castiel and bringing him home to recover safely. The office had found Castiel's father's number in Castiel's basic records, and had tried calling him, but there was no answer. Dean had argued with the nurse politely, using his charisma and reassuring tone until she gave up trying to tell him that he couldn't apply himself as someone's emergency contact without their consent and had agreed with a sigh, unable to find any other option. After checking his driver's license and taking his name and number and other information, the nurse contacted the school office with information on all that had just happened and got official permission for Dean to take Castiel home.
It had taken a lot of convincing, but Dean and Jo eventually gained the school's trust after giving them Ellen's contact information, telling them that they'd be taking Castiel there for his father to pick him up. The nurse gave the office Castiel's name, Jo's, Dean's, Gordon's, and Alastair's- after Jo and Dean had promised that yes they had definitely seen them hurting Castiel and that no they were definitely not lying.
After a long check-up where Jo was furiously texting the worried group to update them on Castiel's situation and Dean was standing by the door, watching the nurse's every move, the Jamaican lady concluded that Castiel had deep bruising and that he'd probably undergone a panic attack, which had caused him to pass out from bodily exertion and lack of oxygen. She told the two teens to make sure Castiel knew to get checked by a doctor, and they agreed. She cleaned up Castiel, iced his cheek, and wrote down some final reports before she rushed to the office, instructing Dean to take Castiel home and warning him that she and the school would be calling both him and Ellen very soon. She gave him instructions on how to help Castiel recover, and warned him again and again to keep his phone with him. They informed the two that they would continue to try contacting Castiel's father. So Dean and Jo helped haul a half-conscious Castiel into Dean's car, and they made their way to Jo's house in a rush.
Before they got to Jo's house, Jo had called her mother and explained to her what happened so she'd be ready for them (and for calls from the school) when they arrived.
And ready she was.
Ellen ushered the kids into the house. She had prepared a bed out of a couch in the living room so they wouldn't have to carry Castiel up the stairs, and they laid him down and covered him in blankets. Ellen looked worried sick, but she took charge brilliantly as she prepared some food and water for Jo and Dean, and brought out some pain medication for when Castiel woke up once more. Ellen had told the kids to make sure Castiel kept the bottle, then called the school to confirm with them that Castiel was safe with her- after she gave a very long and heated lecture about the school's crappy bullying policies- and the school said they were still currently trying to get a hold of Mr. Novak to have him pick up his son. They said they'd call her as soon as they finished contacting him, and they apologized continuously, with which Ellen responded with some profanity before she hung up with a harsh slam of the telephone.
Dean and Jo picked at their spaghetti as they sat near Cas, watching over their friend, worriedly. Ellen joined them with a huff, sitting down at the table in the living room.
"Who the hell would do a thing like this?" she muttered, seeming truly confused and disgusted at the same time.
"Alastair would," Dean mumbled, shoving his plate of spaghetti away as he propped his chin on his hand, looking at Castiel with an almost angry face.
"Just let that boy wait until I get a hold of him, he's going to regret he ever-" Ellen began, standing up.
"Mom," Jo interrupted her. "This is something Castiel's father and the school need to handle," she reminded her.
Putting her hands on her hips as she stood up, Ellen raised her head. "Not if I'm around, it ain't. What kind of a father doesn't even notice his son's bein' bullied?" Ellen asked angrily. "The boy had bruises the last time I saw him, how did his father not see something like that?" she asked.
Dean shrugged, although his stomach churned with uneasiness. Ellen had a good point, but Dean didn't want to think about that. "He's good at hiding things," Dean mumbled. That much was true.
Not knowing what else to say, Ellen shook her head and sighed. "Well go on and eat, you two. Starvin' yourselves ain't gonna help no one," she told them before making her way out of the room. "I'm going to make him some soup."
Dean didn't feel at all like eating, but he was afraid of what Ellen would do if he didn't, so he forced some spaghetti down his throat to please her. After he had gotten halfway through his food, Castiel stirred in his sleep and then jerked upwards, letting out a terrified gasp.
Jo and Dean were instantly at his side, putting gentle hands on him as he squirmed and panted in the makeshift bed, looking around shakily as he jerked away from them. "What-Where am I?" Castiel asked, blue eyes wide with fear. "A-Alastair, what happened? Where is he?"
"It's alright, Castiel," Jo soothed. "It's alright, you're fine. You're at my house and you're safe. Dean and my mom are here, you're okay," she cooed, placing a hand on Castiel's hair, who instantly began to relax.
"What happened?" he mumbled, looking from Jo to Dean. Then his eyes widened, and he seemed to have remembered.
"Dean-"
"Cas, don't," Dean tried to interrupt, giving Cas a stern look.
Castiel shook his head, eyes shut tight. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry-"
"It's fine, Cas," Dean replied sternly. "Everything is fine. Everything is okay, just relax," he told him, green eyes looking into blue.
Castiel stared back for a long time, seeming like he had so much to say, but he just nodded. That's when Ellen walked in with a bowl of tomato soup and a glass of water.
"Hello, Castiel," she greeted him with a soft smile. She placed Castiel's tray on the table next to him and handed him the bowl of soup, which he accepted, hesitantly. "Glad to see you up. I hope you don't mind tomato," she said with a grin.
Castiel shook his head. "No- it's fine. Thankyou, Mrs. Harvelle," he mumbled, holding the bowl in shaky, pale hands as he settled it in his lap and let the warmth travel through his fingers.
Ellen smiled again and patted Castiel's knee. "Now I need you to eat all of that and take pain medication, alright?" she instructed. Then she turned to Dean and Jo. "You two, back away and finish your dinner. Give the boy some space," she ordered. The teens all obliged to Ellen's orders and she nodded with satisfaction before heading out of the room.
It was quiet as everyone ate, and Dean noticed that Castiel seemed grateful for the silence as the boy's shoulders relaxed and he mindlessly spooned soup into his mouth. He was deep in thought, and for the hundredth time since meeting Castiel, Dean wished he could read the teen's mind. After they all finished eating and Castiel took his medicine, Dean decided he wanted to confront Castiel. He was about to ask his friend all the questions that buzzed through his mind- but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
He'd have to wait. Now was not the right time.
Soup warmed Castiel's stomach as he swallowed scoop by mindless scoop. He tried not to think of the events that had taken place, today. How had things gone so wrong so fast? How had Jo and Dean found him?
What was going to happen at school, now?
Just as Castiel was going to ask his friends, Ellen walked into the living room.
"Castiel, honey, I just got off the phone with the school. They told me your dad will be here to pick you up in an hour. Just relax a bit before he gets here, alright? No getting up," she instructed him.
Castiel was shocked and terrified, but he managed to nod. Oh no. He had skipped school. His father knew about the bullying, now, and he'd be furious that Castiel caused a scene and ruined the family name. He was going to kill him. He was going to punish him and oh God Castiel didn't think he could handle much more of this, today.
"Cas," he heard his name being called. Castiel looked up to see Dean looking at him worriedly. "Cas, is everything good? You feelin' okay?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat at the table as he faced Castiel.
Castiel nodded slowly, licking his lips. "Yes. Yes, I'm alright," he murmured as he looked down at his soup then back up at his friend. "Dean… thank you," he spoke, making Dean's head raise with shock.
Dean seemed to know what Castiel was thanking him for, because he nodded, knowingly. "It's no problem, Cas."
They were all silent. It seemed too soon to touch the subject of Castiel's breakdown, and the blue-eyed boy was thankful that they didn't bring it up. Instead, Jo informed him of what went on after he had passed out and she reassured him that they had collected all of his things for him and that it was waiting by the door. That bit of information eased Castiel's worries slightly, but he was still waiting for his dad apprehensively, his stomach upset with nervousness.
When the doorbell rang, everyone jumped slightly with shock. Then Jo bounced up to answer it and Dean went over to help Castiel on his feet, giving Castiel the bottle of pain relievers.
"Ellen wanted you to keep them," he explained. "She said they'd help a lot."
Castiel gave a sheepish smile. "Thank you," he mumbled as he slipped it into his pocket and allowed Dean to walk him to the door where his father awaited.
To Castiel's surprise, the lawyer didn't look angry, but genuinely concerned. He looked Castiel over and took him from Dean, pulling him into a hug. Castiel froze in his father's grasp, feeling his heart race with the initial fear of being assaulted. He didn't like the hug. It wasn't warm or comforting, but more of forced and awkward. "I'm glad you're alright, Castiel," he murmured loud enough for the others to hear. Castiel didn't respond, but stood outside with his father, standing right by the front door where Ellen, Jo, and Dean were all watching them curiously.
Ellen spoke up. "I'm so sorry about all that happened, Mr. Novak," she spoke. She was very genuine, but she seemed to be hesitant around the man. "If you don't mind, I'd like to help out with Castiel in any way that I can," she offered.
Mr. Novak gave a smile. "That's very kind of you, but I've got the situation at his school all sorted out. Thank you for taking care of my son."
Ellen didn't seem happy with his response, but she gave a forced smile. "Castiel is like family to us. We'll help him anytime," she told the tall man. Castiel was shocked at her words, but he felt warmth travel through him. They cared. Even after all he had put everyone through, Jo and her mother and Dean still cared. And from what Jo had told him earlier, so did the rest of the group. He felt uncertainty try to shove the thought of friendship out of his mind, but he managed to keep it there. As tough as it would be, Castiel would be sure to try and allow himself to make friends. He would give them a chance, since they had been kind enough to give him more than one.
Mr. Novak gave a nod, squeezing Castiel's shoulder uncomfortably tight, making him fight back the urge to wince. "Thankyou, Mrs. Harvelle. That is very thoughtful. Now, I must take Castiel home. He'll need his rest if he is to be going back to school, tomorrow," he explained, pulling at Castiel's shoulder.
Dean handed Castiel his backpack, and the scrawny boy took it. "Thank you," he murmured, looking at Dean then down at the floor, letting his gaze wander everywhere but at his father.
Dean gave him a stiff smile. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, kay?" he whispered so only Castiel could hear.
Castiel gave a slight smile as he looked back up at Dean and nodded.
"Have a good night!" Castiel's father called as he all but dragged his son to his car.
And Dean watched him drive away, feeling a stirring in his gut- like there was so much left unsaid.
This is my longest chapter! I dont know when the next one will be up because i'm quite busy with homework! But I'll try and get it up soon! In the meantime, i hope you guys appreciate this long chapter to read while you wait n_n i hope it answers some questions.
Thanks so much for such lovely reviews! Literally the best part of my day is reading them! I get so excited ahhhh you're all ever so lovely and great!
Thanks again!
And thanks to those who followed my tumblr! :D I had SO much fun chatting with you guys! If any of you wanna follow, it's beesforcastiel
I follow back and interact with you guys a lot on there n_n it's easier to talk there than here.
Anyways,
Goodbye, lovelies!~