A/N: Vivi here! Sorry for the late post. Yesterday was a living nightmare. Hope you enjoy this!

Previously on John's Boys:

Dean didn't try to sleep that night. He knew he couldn't. Not after that particular nightmare. He never wanted to relive the moment his life went from domestic heaven to living hell.

The next morning, John didn't talk much. He could tell Dean was on edge, and he had a pretty good idea why. Probably didn't get any more sleep than I had last night. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally snap at one of his boys and give Dean a reason to run.

"Don't take your sling off today, okay? Don't leave the house. Don't do anything strenuous or anything that could wind up hurting you. You have my phone number. If you need anything, call me. Just take it easy today, okay, Dean?"

"Yes, sir." Dean said sleepily, his limbs feeling twenty pounds heavier than normal as he stood near the door, watching Sam pack his school bag.

"I want you to go to school tomorrow, so rest up. Get some sleep, do some quality healing. Take a personal day." John said, hoping his words would make it through to the thick headed kid.

"Yes, sir." Dean repeated, trying to sound a bit more convincing. He had every intention of sleeping the day away now that John wasn't letting him go to school until tomorrow. Maybe he could even read some of his new book. If his eyes would focus that close with his head pounding like it was…

"See you after school, Dean." Sam smiled and headed out the door, eager to start at his new school.

"See ya, Sammy."

"Don't take your sling off."

"Got it."

"Be safe, Sammy. Ride the bus home." John called out the passenger window as Sam darted into the crowd. He smiled and shook his head. That kid and his moods. Won't prep for college but is too excited to say goodbye to his father on his first day of school.

Sam stopped just inside the crowd and watched Dad drive away while he nervously bit at his lip. This school was big- biggest he'd ever been to- and it was all very overwhelming to a smaller-than-average thirteen year old.

A burly boy, probably a few years older than Sam, bumped into him and nearly sent him to the sidewalk. He didn't even turn around; the kid and his buddies just kept walking.

"Are you okay?"

Everyone around was taller than Sam, so he couldn't find the source of the voice until the kid pushed through the slowly moving fray. He was tall- maybe even taller than Dean- wearing a black jacket and Nirvana tee shirt with a tan book bag over his shoulder. The book bag had a small, gold-colored, metallic-looking feather charm hanging off of it, which drew Sam's attention almost immediately. That's cool. Kinda like my tribal charm.

The guy's hand moved to push his book bag behind him, which prompted Sam to look up again while the guy moved closer in the crowd. A look of concern was painted on his face. It had been so long since Sam had gotten to socialize with other kids that he froze up. What- what do I do? How do you answer a question like that when you haven't even met? Don't be weird- act normal!

"Are you okay?" The guy repeated as he pushed his way to walk next to Sam. "Cameron and his friends aren't exactly the best people to deal with in the morning. Did he hurt you?"

Be normal be normal- "No, I'm fine." Sam looked down to the pavement, blushing as embarrassment welled up in his stomach. First day and I already look like a whiny little kid.

"Are you sure? Because if not, I can-"

"I'm fine." Sam cringed when he realized that he cut the guy off. "I don't want to start anything."

The guy frowned and held onto his book bag strap with both hands. "You deserve to feel safe."

'You deserve to feel safe, Dean. Everybody does.' Dad's voice replayed in Sam's head, making him feel guilty for resisting help like Dean had during their first week or so of knowing him. It annoyed him then that Dean so obviously needed someone to step in and still wouldn't let it happen, and now he was doing it to someone else. "I'm okay. Really. He just bumped into me. That's all." But I'm not as bad as Dean was. Right? He was half dead. I just got pushed a little. It's different… Right?

"Well, I'm glad nothing worse happened. They've been known to shove people in the detector lines. James Portsmith broke his wrist last year when Cameron pushed him. The goons were suspended for a couple days but they don't change." The guy glared at a red-headed guy standing a few feet in front of them. "Try to avoid them if you can. Everyone does."

"Thanks for the advice, but I think I can handle myself." Sam felt irritation poke at him. This guy was assuming he was a weakling just because he was a good foot shorter than him. And maybe because he was avoiding eye contact and looking anywhere but at the guy.

"I'm sure you can. But there's power- and safety- in numbers. No one is anyone without someone. You certainly aren't no one. And I don't see you talking to anyone but me."

Sam looked up nervously at that point and he was glad the guy wasn't looking back. His eyes were focused on the doors in front of them, where several security officers were going through bags and ushering the students through metal detectors before they could go about their education in relative peace. "I have someone. He's just not here."

The guy chuckled and didn't look down. "Your father doesn't count. In the real world, yes. But not here. This is the jungle, kid."

"He's not my father! I have- I have…" Sam trailed off. What can I tell him? Dean's not related to me. He's my friend, but he also lives with me. Nobody's gonna get that. They'll make fun of me, or think I'm lying. And Dean- what will he think? What if I say he's just living with me and then we both get made fun of when he comes tomorrow? That would be a terrible way to start school again, especially when he hasn't been in classes for a few months. What can I say that won't piss anyone off? C'mon, think…

"Well?" The guy looked down at that point, waiting patiently.

Sam wanted to poke him right in his blue eyes for making him nervous on his first day. "I have a big brother. He's out sick today, but he'll be here tomorrow." Way to sound like a kid.

"I see."

"What, you don't believe me?" Sam snapped, feeling his cheeks get red. The doors were only ten feet away. Ten more feet and I can lose this guy for good.

"No, I believe you. Why wouldn't I?" The guy looked confused and blew a strand of his black hair out of his face. It was a good two inches longer than Dean's was now, and about an inch shorter than his own. "You seem like a trustworthy guy."

"Oh." Sam didn't know how to reply to that. Confrontation, he knew. He had plenty of practice with Dad, after all. But agreement? That was foreign territory.

"See you around." The guy spoke just as Sam stepped inside the doors and put his bag on the table for the guard to look through. Once through the detector and reunited with his bag, Sam set off for the administration office to get his schedule. Weirdo.

"Class, settle down." Mrs. Burgdorf, Sam's AP Calculus 1 teacher, had to yell to get the roar in the room quiet enough for her to make an announcement as class started. "We have another new student today. Will Sam Bennett please step forward?"

What? Why why why do they always do this? Sam stood from his desk and trudged to the front of the classroom. At least I combed my hair today. He could literally feel the fifty eight eyes on him as he turned to face his fellow classmates.

"This is Sam Bennett. Sam, please tell us where you are from and one thing about yourself." Mrs. Burgdorf sounded fakely pleasant until she had to stare down a boy in the back row who was talking quietly with another student.

"I'm from Kansas and I've been to seventeen other schools since kindergarten. Oh, sorry, it's eighteen now." Sam shrugged and couldn't find it in him to smile at the shocked faces around the room.

"Thank you, Sam. You can take your seat."

Another semester as the weird kid. Oh boy.

By lunchtime, Sam had been forced to repeat his introduction four times and was ready to pound his head against the lunch table repeatedly. He waited quietly in line, got his 'Taco Tuesday' meal, and went to sit alone at one of the empty rectangular tables. Can't wait to not have any friends again. Oh, wait.

"Somebody's brother!"

Sam felt himself flinch as the familiar voice rang out over the chatter in the cafeteria. He held perfectly still, like the guy wouldn't be able to see him if he didn't move.

He was, unfortunately, wrong. "How'd your morning classes go, kid?" The guy from the line outside set his tray opposite Sam and sat down, smiling at him.

"Fine."

"Good. Hey, I hear you're new." The guy said as he set his book bag on the seat next to him. "I'm Castiel. You're Sam, right?"

Sam stared down at his food, poking at a blob of green jello with his fork, and nodded.

"Rough day?"

Sam sighed and looked up at Castiel, who was no longer smiling. "I hate having to do the whole introduction thing a hundred times every time I move."

"I do, too."

Surprise made Sam's hesitation fly out the window. "Do you move a lot?"

Castiel shrugged and leaned on the table with his elbows, ignoring his food completely. "I used to. Dad was one of those high dollar insurance agents. He chased salaries like cats chase mice, so every year or so he uprooted us and we moved halfway across the country."

"Who's us?" In the back of his mind, Sam knew his curiosity was getting the better of him, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. And at the moment, he didn't much care to.

Castiel looked down to his tray and the tone of the conversation lost its lighthearted feeling. "My father, my step mother, and me."

"I'm from a small family, too. It's just Dad and me- and Dean." Sam almost forgot to add Dean into the mix. He didn't want Castiel to think he lied about having a brother, but thinking of Dean as family was going to take some getting used to. Dad made it seem like Dean wasn't going to stay forever, like he would leave at the drop of a hat whenever he wanted to go. Sam was starting to think that maybe that wasn't the case at all. Dad was taking care of Dean like his own kid. There wasn't much difference in how he treated either of the boys anymore.

"Are you close?"

"Huh?"

"With your Dad and brother. Are you close?" Castiel asked, his tone both curious and concerned.

Sam didn't know why Castiel should be concerned. "Yeah, I mean we go everywhere together. Do everything together. We even share a room." He doesn't need to know that I share a room with Dad, not Dean.

Castiel smiled sadly and opened his bottle of water. "I'm glad you have someone to fall back on after today. No one should have to go it alone at a new school."

"Why do you say that?" Sam asked, watching as Castiel spun the cap of his water bottle over and over on the table.

Castiel met Sam's eyes and looked like he was deliberating for a few moments.

"You don't have to tell me. I'm just asking." Sam started to consider moving to a different table when the conversation became uncomfortable. He didn't like that he attracted the outcasts at every new school. It just kind of happened.

"Well, everyone else knows. You'll find out eventually even if I don't tell you. My Dad died about a year ago in a car crash. Drunk driver hit him, he was killed instantly. I was asleep in the backseat. We were coming home from a soccer game and… y'know. So when I got out of the hospital a couple days later, we had Dad's funeral and I was left in the custody of my step mother."

"Why not your real mom?" Sam blurted the question out before he realized it. He had a feeling the answer wasn't going to be good.

"She died having me. I was her first and last." Castiel shrugged again, looking drained but not distraught. "Would've been nice to have her around, though, when Sadie kicked me out."

"Who's Sadie?"

"My step mother."

"Your step mom kicked you out? Like, for a week or something? Like a lesson?" Sam was surprised once again by the heartlessness of supposed parents.

"She handed me emancipation papers and told me to get out. Guess she didn't remember that the pre-nup left all Dad's funds to me."

"Pre-nup? What is that?"

"It's a legal document that two people can sign before they get married that says if they split, one gets this and the other gets that, or one keeps this and the other keeps that. Y'know, to protect themselves in case things go south."

"I've never heard of that." Sam said quietly. It made sense to him that a thing like that existed, but he still felt like it would undermine the relationship.

"Welcome to the real world. So when she tried to claim Dad's life insurance, his savings, his stocks, and his properties, she hit a brick wall. They all belonged to me the moment he was pronounced dead. And I was legally emancipated before she could go back on her decision. I have no idea where she is now." Castiel's face turned hard as he spoke about his step mother. It was obvious that he hadn't received any affection from the woman at any point in his life.

"So you don't have anyone anymore?" Sam almost couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Well… the rest of my family cut ties with us when Dad remarried. No one but Dad liked Sadie. And my friends were the ones who suggested leaving town in the first place. We still talk like once a week."

"So… where do you live now? Do you have a foster parent or something?" Sam asked, a million questions burning in his head. "How old are you?"

Castiel's smile turned genuine and the light returned to his eyes. "I'm emancipated, Sam. I live on my own, in an apartment about half a mile away. Legally, I'm a sixteen year old adult."

"Is that really a thing?" Sam was suspicious. Why didn't Dean do that? He could have left Lucy and Jerold.

"Yeah. I pay my own bills, buy my own clothes, wash my own dishes- it's just me now."

Oh. Right. Dean didn't have any money. And I guess Lucy and Jerold weren't his legal guardians. They were just giving him a place to stay until he could live on his own and protect himself. But nobody can hunt without backup. I wonder if he has… "Who's your somebody?"

"What?"

"Everybody has somebody. Who's your somebody?"

Castiel was silent for a few seconds, the humor having fallen from his face. "Just the friends I've made here. My lawyer, maybe. My caseworker. I- I really don't have a long-term somebody, I guess." He shrugged and spun the cap again. "I started at this school last semester, in the spring. I'm kinda new, too."

Sam stabbed his jello and took a bite before another question bypassed his brain on its way to his mouth. "Are you rich?"

Castiel looked surprised at the question. "Not really. I have enough to live off of for a while. That's… that's all I'm going to say."

"We're paying for groceries on a credit card." Sam said flatly. "You're better off than we are."

"Are your parents out of a job or something?"

"Dad's a mechanic. Mom's dead. Dean was in an accident and can't work right now. I'm too young, no one will hire me." Sam shrugged and took another bite of jello. "Dad signed us up for the free lunch program."

"You have enough to eat, though, right?" Castiel asked quietly. Sam could hear the pity in his tone.

Sam refused to look at him. "Yeah. For a while. Look, you don't have to sit with me. I'm fine on my own. You probably shouldn't be seen with the new weirdo if you're trying to find friends."

"Who called you a weirdo?"

When Sam looked up again, Castiel was wearing the same protective expression that he had back when they first met. "No one. I'm just saying what everyone is thinking."

"No one is thinking that, Sam. There are so many kids at this school that no one would know if you're new unless a teacher told them during class. We get new kids all the time anyway. Why would you think you're a weirdo?"

"You don't know me yet."

"Guess I'll just have to hang around and figure it out then."

Sam glared defiantly at Castiel, who looked defiantly right back. "I'm not gonna be at this school very long. You'll be wasting your time."

"It's my time to waste. And I want to meet your big brother. See if he's big enough to take down Cameron for bullying you." Castiel took a bite of his food.

"He is. Believe me." Sam muttered. Hope those gang guys didn't bite it after we left. Somebody found 'em, probably.

It's almost over. Just two more classes. Sam was in the middle of a personal pep talk when he read over his now wrinkled paper schedule and found out his next class was gym. He hated gym class. It was a survival of the fittest arena and because he was short, Sam always got picked last for teams. Most of the time it didn't matter that he could run faster than most of the other kids or make three point shots in basketball or hit the ball out of the park. He was the new weird short kid everywhere he went and that never changed.

The gym teacher was a nice, smiley lady- Mrs. Snyder- who told him where the locker rooms were and gave him some spare shorts to wear until he could bring his own for class. Almost everyone else was already doing stretches when he finally found the gym, so he had the locker room all to himself.

"Listen up." Mrs. Snyder bellowed over the talking students. Her voice echoed back in the large gym, bouncing off of walls and wooden bleachers and polished floors before it faded out. "We're playing wiffle ball today. I want you to finish stretching while I explain the rules."

Sam, having taken way too many gym classes in his lifetime, already knew all the rules of wiffle ball. He preferred baseball, but baseballs left bruises and wiffle balls didn't. It was understandable that this school would use wiffle balls until the students were fast enough to dodge baseballs or softballs thrown at them by malicious classmates.

"Okay, time to choose teams. I need two team captains." Mrs. Snyder put her hands on her hips and surveyed her class.

Another team to be picked last on. Sam tuned the teacher out, knowing he had plenty of time to himself before being called. He was just glad she didn't make him introduce himself in front of everyone. Standing against the back wall with all the other students, Sam let his gaze float lazily around the room. The tall ceilings were painted white and big round lights hung from the rafters where the occasional basketball, wiffle ball, or badminton birdie could be spotted pinned between two beams.

"Sam." Mrs. Snyder interrupted Sam's surveying in a harsh tone, snapping her fingers to get his attention. "Get moving." She pointed out toward the gym floor.

A look of innocent surprise spread across his face as he realized the entire class- and the teacher- were staring at him. Mrs. Snyder looked annoyed, most of the students looked were either giggling or glaring at him, and Castiel was-

Castiel? Sam's eyes snapped to the kid, who was laughing quietly with his arms folded from where he stood about twenty feet in front of the rest of the group, facing them. A freckled girl in pigtails, probably a little older than Sam, stood next to him, and a burly boy on her other side.

It donned on Sam that Castiel had been chosen as a team captain.

And he chose Sam first.

Sam rushed forward and stood next to Castiel, blushing like a little kid at being the center of attention again. Castiel just grinned at him and continued on alternating teammate choices with the pigtailed girl.

"Blue team, you're at bat. Red team, get on the field." Mrs. Snyder sent the teams scrambling to their positions with most of the blue team either trying to get to the front of the line or the very back.

Sam and Castiel went for the field, which was really just the open gym floor with a few white blobs of mats spaced around it to mimic a baseball field.

"Why did you pick me? You don't even know if I'm good at wiffle ball." Sam hissed as they walked, trying not to be heard by the other boys and girls headed for the field.

"Doesn't matter if you're good. We play for fun, or we're supposed to. At least when I'm the team captain." Castiel slowed. "Can you pitch at all?"

"Yeah…" Sam was hesitant to admit any of his skills to anyone at a new school. He was good at pitching because Dad trained him with everything from knives to spears, including rocks, which if thrown at a high enough velocity with the appropriate accuracy, could kill. 'Kill it any way you can, Sam. Or it will kill you. What if you drop your weapon? You need to learn to use the environment against the opponent. Now, try again. Throw it harder this time.' Comin' in real handy right about now, Dad. Sam decided he could have done without that training though. The weeks of camping with Dad were not worth the skills learned. At least to Sam. He would have rather attended a real school and learned to pitch the normal way.

"Good. You're the pitcher." Castiel clapped him on the shoulder and jogged to the outfield, leaving Sam feeling very exposed in the middle of the infield.

"Please don't do that to me again." Sam said as the boys returned to the locker room at the end of the class. "I hate being singled out."

"You struck out four players, Sam." Castiel snorted. "You're gonna be the pitcher on any team you get from now on, I'll bet."

Sam groaned and threw his head back dramatically. "You've doomed me."

"But you're not the weird kid anymore." Castiel pointed out with a grin. "Word's gonna spread around the school that you're an athlete and if the jocks respect you, everyone will."

"I don't want respect. I want to be normal. Average. I want to blend in." Sam grabbed his backpack and started to leave the locker room.

"That's no way to live." Castiel said.

"It's my life."

"Hey, Sam. What did the baseball glove say to the ball?" Castiel called over the roar of the locker room.

"What? Is this supposed to be a joke or something?" Sam turned and looked back at Castiel.

"Catch ya later!" Half the locker room burst into laughter.

Sam rolled his eyes and left gym class with a grin on his face.

Everyone on the bus knew he could play baseball like a prodigy. How does this even happen? They had an hour to tell other people and fifty minutes of that was in class. He tried to be polite while also avoiding conversation with the kids who sat in the seats around him.

He was never so glad to see the rental house.

"Dean? I'm back from school." Sam called as he entered the house. When he got no response, he locked the door and dropped his bag on the kitchen tiles. "Dean?"

A/N: Hope this wasn't too disjointed. I had to cut a lot of Cas backstory out to make him fit in the story. Surprise! Leave me words! See you next week.