"I… We have to… Holy shit!" Sam said, backing away, stumbling over the junk littering the floor before he turned and ran up the stairs.

Cas's eyes dimmed as he watched the retreating teen. He looked peaceful, settled in a way Dean wasn't used to seeing. It was like some kind of confidence had washed over him, pulling his shoulders back and bringing his chin up. He looked strong and capable and more than a little intimidating. But he didn't know Sammy.

"Cas, I need you to stay here, alright? No Tasmanian Devil-ing out of here." Dean started to follow Sam but stopped when he caught Cas's crestfallen face.

"You think I'm a devil?" His low voice scratched out in a whisper aimed at the floor, his new bearing crumbling around him and crashing on the ground.

"No, not at all." Dean rushed over to him and cradled his face in his hands, forcing Cas to look up at him. "It's a… it's from a cartoon. I don't think you're a devil or anything bad. I promise. But I need you to wait here and not blip out like you do sometimes. I have to go after Sam."

Cas studied him for too long and Dean was antsy to get upstairs, but he waited until Cas nodded. "I'll just wait here, then."

Dean released his hold on him and ran upstairs, risking life and limb by jumping over stacks of magazines and gardening tools. He crashed through the basement door and found Sam standing in the kitchen staring at his phone. "Sammy…"

"Don't, Dean. Don't ask me to keep this a secret. Whatever that was, we have to tell Bobby."

"Whatever it was is just Cas." he soothed, stepping closer to his little brother, ready to forcibly remove the phone from his hands.

"Right, just Cas. You mean Castiel, who you broke your hand when you punched his face? Castiel, who looked like he legit might murder Thaddeus. I don't know what your blind spot is with him, but this is too much. Whatever the fuck just happened down there…"

"That was proof that he's good, Sammy! He healed me when he didn't have to, and he's risking a lot trusting us. You said that symbol the sacred geometry shit is about the connection between humans and nature. How can that be bad? Whatever he is like activated when he came into contact with it, but he was fine. He didn't hurt anyone or hulk out or go Superman on the Darkside or anything. He was still just Cas."

"What is it about him that makes you so willing to trust him?" Sam set his phone on the table and stared hard at Dean.

"He's just… he's good. I don't know how to explain it but I know it's true, and I know he'd never hurt either of us. I can't imagine what it must be like to be that strong and powerful and not even accidentally hurt someone, but he's got it under control, and I trust him. I need you to just go with me on this. Give us more time. There's nothing to really tell Bobby anyway. We don't know anything."

"Why do you care so much?" Sam's focus is so intense Dean has to look away. It's a question he can't even answer for himself, let alone Sammy.

"I don't know. But I do. This is important. Please trust me."

"I do, Dean." Sam doesn't have to consider that part at least, but he pauses before continuing. "Are you in love with him?"

Dean steps back, practically flailing at the question. "What? No, that's not… Sam, there's nothing like that going on."

"I mean, if you are, I get it. I'd understand. Bobby would too." Sam's voice had softened and now Dean really did want to hit him.

"No, there's nothing like that... Shit, Sam!" Dean ran a hand over his face, the soft stubble from not having time to shave today just starting to make itself known.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Dean asks, not sure what Sam is agreeing to at this point. His heart is pounding and there's a chance he might throw up.

"Yeah, I won't tell Bobby. Yet. But I'm not sure about all this. I like Cas, I do. But something about all of this feels wrong." Sam ran a hand through his well past John Winchester Approved length hair.

"I know. Cas knows. That's why we're helping him."

Sam nods. "I'm gonna do my homework, maybe watch a movie later if you guys wanna hang out."

"That sounds good, Sammy. Uh… Thanks." Dean turns and heads downstairs to find Cas standing in the exact same position he'd left him. Hands at his sides, head bent low.

"Cas? You doin' alright there, buddy?" Dean stepped close but didn't touch.

Cas nodded and met Dean's gaze, his face drawn tight. "Sam is afraid of me." He lowered his head again and Dean wanted nothing more than to cheer him up, show him it would be alright.

"Sammy is nervous. He doesn't like not knowing the answers to things, but he's okay. It's gonna be fine. Come on, let's go upstairs. You can tell me all about your close encounter with the third kind."

Cas looked at him again, eyes scrunched tight. "What are the first and second kinds?"

Dean laughed and the tension in the room shattered around them. It's just Dean and Cas again, and as weird as it may be, it's comfortable. "Let's go. Are you hungry or anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

They walked up to the main floor and smiled at Sam as they made their way to the main stairs and up to Dean's room. "You know, I never see you eat lunch," Dean mentioned, not really thinking much of it.

Cas sat on the edge of Dean's bed, hands tight in his lap while Dean fiddled with the old boombox he'd repaired and put on one of the Zep Mixes he had.

"What is it, dude. You're putting off major 'I'm hiding something' vibes."

Cas sighed. "I'm worried about your reaction if I tell you things that make me seem weirder."

"Not possible. I think you're so weird we've rounded the bend and come back to totally normal, which really should worry us more about me than you." Dean laughed and slumped on his bed next to Cas, pressing his back to the wall.

"I don't eat," Cas admitted.

"Like ever?"

"I can eat, it just doesn't taste very good and I don't need to, so I try to avoid it."

Dean chuckled. "That's not so weird."

"I don't sleep either."

"Next, you're going to tell me you don't use the bathroom and have never jacked off." Dean chuckled, thinking himself hysterical until he caught the look on Cas's face.

Cas bowed his head, his face flaming into a reddish pink so fast Dean was tempted to laugh again, but the impossibility of what he was saying stilled his mirth.

"Okay…" Dean stretched the word out, trying to process the latest insanity. "I almost get the no bathroom thing if you don't eat, but who doesn't… like it's really normal to…"

"Masturbate?" Cas added helpfully and Dean's ears burned like someone took a flamethrower to them.

"Jesus, Cas. Yes. Everyone… I mean… Really? Never?"

Cas just nodded and kept looking forward, his body stiff. "I've never felt the urge, particularly."

"Yeah, I guess you have Meg for that." The words came out harsher and faster than Dean meant for them too. Actually, he hadn't meant to say them at all, but they were out there now. This time he was the one uncomfortable and playing with the hem of his shirt. "Not that she's your girlfriend, though," he gave out what sounded like a frustrated sigh. But it wasn't. It was totally just sarcasm. Just ribbing Cas a little. That's all it was.

"Dean, I've told you already. It's not like that." Cas seemed to have let go of his discomfort in favor of turning toward Dean, one leg bent on the bed so he faced Dean head on.

"Right, you're not capable. What the fuck does that mean? Every red-blooded teenager is capable."

"You assume my blood is red." Cas holds his stare as Dean fidgets with sudden worry that maybe Cas's blood isn't red. It goes on so long Dean is tempted to ask until Cas smiles, and his nose crinkles slightly, and his eyes narrow even more, and Dean is so fucking happy just to see that look he doesn't even notice that he's moved forward so their legs are touching as they face each other.

Fuck personal space.

"Fuck you, man." Dean laughed and Cas relaxed, looking more like himself again. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm not judging. I just don't get it. Meg is hot and now that I can see her through your eyes, she's funny and smart and she had her fucking hands down your pants last week. So why not?"

Cas shrugged with a little frown.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't wanna, I was just…" Dean hedged quietly.

"No, Dean, it's fine. When I started here, Meg and I clicked, she didn't think the way I talked or the stuff I didn't know was so weird to make me not worth talking to like everyone else and something about her made sense to me. I don't know how to explain other than she's a dark light. But I was still figuring out who I was in a very literal sense. We kind of… rushed into things and when I realized what it meant and what I wanted, I put a stop to it. Until you, I didn't realize that the kissing and other things were crossing the line between being her fake boyfriend and protector into a more intimate role."

"She never told you," Dean chuckled. "Because she likes it."

Cas frowned a bit, "yes, that would make some sense. But it's behind us. I told her we can't be that way anymore."

"What? When?"

"This weekend. I mean, I still love her and will protect her, but I won't be as physical with her anymore."

"Because now you know what it means?" Dean asked, trying to keep the utter fucking glee out of his voice.

"Because I know what it means to you," Cas leveled Dean with his eyes and all the oxygen left his lungs. Dean was half tempted to accuse him of doing some glowy-eyed mojo until he saw the blush creeping up Cas's cheeks.

"Fuck man, you can do whatever you want. You don't need my permission." Dean struggled to say.

"Exactly," Cas said.

They sat for a minute and Dean couldn't stop his eyes from falling to Cas's lips. What would it be like to kiss him for real? Not the peck and disappearing act Cas pulled the other day, but to really take his time. To lay together and just kiss and taste. Dean licked his lips.

"But you're still playing boyfriend?" Dean asked finally, struggling for something to latch onto so he doesn't fall beneath the surface of the chaos in his head.

"Yes, she still needs me for that."

"I'm guessing this is because of Crowley? Cas, I gotta tell you, that was weird as shit and really threw me for a loop. I'm never around Meg someplace where I can ask and honestly, the idea of this guy knowing you or coming after you worries me."

Cas smiled at that as if they were discussing death by kitten. "I can handle Crowley."

"So you keep saying."

Cas sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling it even more unkempt and chaotic. "Do you know that Meg was in rehab?"

"Yeah, everyone knows that. Last year. Oh shit, was Crowley her dealer?"

"In a sense. Instead of paying for drugs, though, she worked for him." Cas's dark look was intense and full of an atomic level fury Dean didn't know how to diffuse.

"Oh… Oh!"

"Crowley wasn't happy when she got clean. He used her to get a lot of new customers from our school to add to the ones he had from his. He's a Senior over at Westside. He has some older clients who were happy to pay for her for other things too. She was about to go back when we met, exhausted by his harassment. I used to sleep there most nights, in case he showed up. I managed to get into an altercation with one of his goons which taught them all it was best to stay away from me."

"Shit, Cas."

"Yes, piles of it. Please don't tell Meg I told you everything."

"No, of course not." Dean dropped a hand to Cas's thigh and squeezed. "Thank you for trusting me."

He should have moved his hand. He knew he should. He knew that leaving his hand there was a recipe for things he wasn't ready to deal with straight on. Ha, straight—shit. He was losing his mind entirely now, all thanks to this terrifying, otherworldly, hot-as-shit goofball whose eyes hadn't moved from his.

"Dean, can I ask you something?" Cas asked softly.

"I… I don't know, Cas. It might not be a good idea." Dean's breath sped up and his gaze dropped to Cas's lips.

"How often do you masturbate?"

And that was the moment when Dean's brain leaked right out of his ears. He laughed. He laughed so hard there were tears in his eyes. He laughed so hard he doubled over in an attempt to get his stomach muscles to stop hurting. He laughed so hard he forgot why he'd been so fucking scared just a minute ago.

"Whew. It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard. Oh. It's been more than a long time. Years." Dean wiped the tears from his eyes and enjoyed the confused smile on Cas's face.

"Happy to entertain," Cas's smile was broad, his eyes so bright they almost glowed.

Dean turned away, toeing off his shoes and leaning back on the bed with his hands behind his head. Cas sat on the edge of the bed still, next to Dean's knees, still facing him. Dean crossed his ankles, willing Cas to touch him, to rest his strong hand on Dean's leg.

He was drowning in conflict. Desperate to feel Cas's lips against his again, and the near obsessive need to tell anyone who will listen that he wasn't gay. What would people think? What would his father think? Would Bobby care? And really, he'd lost all his friends already. Didn't seem like Benny would care, or Meg? Sam definitely didn't give a fuck. But his Dad would have strong feelings about it. Strong and loud and most likely violent feelings.

So Dean decided to do what he always does, push it away and pretend it didn't exist. Keep running on instinct until it caught up with him and exploded. He'd deal with it then. Or better yet, he'd just ignore it that much harder.

"So, what did you hear down in the safe room?" Dean led the conversation in a simpler direction, one where Castiel Krusnic was an unimaginably strong something or other who could teleport and heal just by touch. Somehow that was way easier for Dean to deal with than whatever was going on between them.

"It's not just one song. It's thousands, maybe tens of thousands of voices. An entire host of voices singing the same song."

"Wow, so there are like thousands of people like you?" Dean sat up, tucking his legs under him.

"I don't think so. I get the sense they don't see me as one of them. Like, I'm on the outside overhearing something that's meant just for them." Cas shrugged and his shoulders curled in. He pulled his long sleeves down over his hands, fussing with the cuffs. "They don't want me either." His words were almost inaudible.

"Cas, you don't know that. You can't know that unless you talk to them. Could you understand what they were singing?"

"No, it remains unintelligible. The impression of that symbol was stronger but the words are like a tickle in my brain. I should know what it means but I don't. And whoever they are, they won't talk to me, they won't teach me. I just don't want to be alone anymore." Cas glanced at Dean, his eyes watery with unshed tears and unimaginable pain.

"Cas, buddy." Dean shifted closer and wrapped his arms around the dark-haired boy, pulling him against his chest and laying his cheek on his forehead. When the first sob wracked through Cas's body, Dean's heart was ripped in half. How could someone so kind, so protective, so honest, and good be allowed to hurt like this?

He dropped a kiss to Cas's hair, not sure if he even felt it, but he couldn't stop himself. Dean hummed, rubbing his hand over Cas's back and arms the way he used to with Sam when he had nightmares in the dark and their Dad was nowhere to be found. Sometimes, even as John Winchester slept in the next bed, not waking despite his son's cries.

Cas reached around Dean and clutched his shirt, pulling on it like this was the only thing connecting him to reality.

"Cas, you're ok. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. You've got me, Meg, Sam, and even Bobby as much as you want us. You and me, we're a team now, we'll figure all this out, and we'll do it together. I'm… I'm better with you. We're better together."

Cas nodded into Dean's chest and released a strangled sigh. He sat up a little, tucking his face into Dean's neck as Dean continued to run his hands soothingly over his back. Cas sighed again, his body drooping against Dean's.

On instinct, from years of taking care of Sam, Dean pulled Cas down onto the small twin bed and snuggled them together so Cas laid on Dean's chest and Dean could hold him with one arm and run his fingers through that raven hair with the other.

Cas's breath rushed out in a stutter as he tried to even his breathing and Dean hummed and cooed at him.

When Cas calmed, Dean realized he was almost covered in black-clad, smoking hot Cas. He had half his body and one leg draped over Dean and was breathing into his neck. Dean's hands had been all over Cas's face and hair and back. And goddammit, he wanted to touch more. He longed to feel those wide lips against his own for longer than a breath. He wanted to run his hands over Cas's skin, not just over his clothes. He wanted…

Dean froze as he felt Cas move slightly, his leg still pressed against Dean's crotch. Cas leaned up and ran his nose along the side of Dean's neck.

Now it was Dean's turn to let out a stuttering breath as his heart skipped and hopscotched its way forward into dangerous territory.

"Thank you, Dean. You're far kinder to me than anyone else I've ever known." Cas's lips were against the shell of Dean's ear, feathering across his flesh.

"Nah, just being a friend," the words came out breathy. "Meg would do the same."

"Probably, but I don't think I would let her. I don't feel the same when I'm with her as I do when I'm here." Cas leaned up so he could look down at Dean. They held eyes, and Dean was struck by the idea that this is what it would look like if he and Cas were together. This vision right here of Cas hovering over him felt so right; it was like it had already happened.

"How do you feel?" Dean couldn't help but ask, arching up just enough that he could feel his body press against Cas's chest.

"Safe." Cas leaned down so his next word was said against Dean's cheek. "Protected." He nuzzled his face against Dean's scruff. "Wanted." Cas leaned back up, head slanted, ready to bring their lips together, and waited.

The choice was Dean's. He'd asked for time, it hadn't been long, and he knew Cas would give him more. He swung back and forth on what he wanted so much he didn't know which way was up anymore, but he always knew which way led to Cas.

Pressing his lips to Cas's wasn't hard. If anything, it was so easy it seemed too simple. Their bodies were already slotted together, so when Cas shifted his weight to rest more firmly on Dean, it was natural, effortless. And when he pulled Cas's lower lip into his mouth, the groan that escaped him was the most right thing he'd ever done.

Cas ran a hand over Dean's face, running fingers along his eyebrow and cheek, never breaking the contact of their lips.

A tremble cascaded through Dean, flowing down his body and bringing every part of him in contact with Cas's body to life. He wanted to flip them over, tear off their clothes, and rut against Cas until they both came with a scream. He wanted so much. But he was paralyzed by the gentleness of Cas's touch and the slow, unhurried pace of their kiss.

Cas pulled back and looked down at Dean for a moment with a smile, but all Dean could feel was dread. He grabbed Cas's arms, pulling him back down. "Don't you dare leave. If I get a little windstorm in this room and then you're gone after this, I'm going to fucking kill you."

Cas chuckled and Dean gripped him harder. "I'm serious."

"I know." he placed a kiss on Dean's cheek. "I'm not going." He kissed the other cheek. "I was just giving us a second to breathe and make sure you were okay."

"I'm okay, Cas."

"Are you sure? You have been pretty adamant about guys not being your thing and I don't want to in any way influence or pressure-"

Dean reached up and wrapped both arms around Cas's strong back, pulling their lips together firmly. He nipped at his lower lip, kissed his way to his ear, and latched on, sucking and mewling as Cas gripped and massaged his arms and sides.

"I'm not pressured. I might need to think about all this, but I'm okay." Dean gasped, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath from-oh my fucking god-kissing Cas. His whole body felt like lightning struck his lips and trailed out along his nerves. His breath and blood moved quickly and all he wanted was more. "I want you to keep kissing me."

Cas didn't just keep kissing him. He kissed him until their lips were swollen. The kisses were soft and sweet. He kissed him while cradling his face like Dean was the most precious thing in the world. They kissed, building up so much need in Dean that he thought he might explode. They kissed until the music stopped and still more until Bobby came home and shouted up for Dean to come help with the groceries.

Cas sat up and Dean gripped his arm. "I mean it, no whirlwinding out. Not now. Help me put the groceries and I'll drive you home."

Cas shook his head and looked down between them. "I don't want you to see where I live. It sounds stupid but I hate it there. I don't want you to associate that place with me."

"Hey, I grew up in motels. I get it. Do you want to stay or...?"

"I should go." Cas still didn't meet Dean's eyes.

"Cas, promise me that we're good. That this doesn't change that we're friends."

"Nothing could change that." Cas leaned down and pressed a sure kiss against his lips and then disappeared in a rush of wind.

The next few weeks ran mostly the same. Meg and Cas were always together at school but Dean was openly welcomed into their weird relationship. Meg didn't seem to harbor any upset toward Dean, even though he was sure she knew what was going on between him and Cas.

Lunch had become bearable again. He now sat with Meg and Cas, usually joined by Benny and sometimes Garth. Benny had made friends with an uncomfortably upbeat girl named Charlie, who Dean couldn't help but adore. When he looked at her, he thought maybe this is what Cas feels for Meg. And to round off the social misfits society, Kevin Tran, honor student, sometimes graced them with his presence when he wasn't studying.

He and Cas had settled into spending most days together after school. Meg indulged them since once Dean's cast came off, he'd have to go back to work. But for now, they spent their time studying or watching movies or lying on top of the bus talking about all the things that plagued their minds when they weren't together.

And they kissed.

God did they kiss.

Toe-curling, mind-altering, breath-stealing kissing.

It was heavenly. And frustrating. He waited for a sign from Cas that he was okay with more. He waited, desperate to slide his tongue inside Cas's mouth and finally taste what he could only imagine would be crisp, snow flavored Cas. He wanted to take off shirts and run hands and lips along bare skin. His mind tended to stop there. Unable to visualize anything below the belt. But he wanted that too.

But Cas gave no indication of wanting or needing more. And so they kissed and Dean took daily showers, sometimes two, and would never allow Cas to know.

The only person who knew about any of it was Sam. He comfortably acknowledged and then moved on when he saw them holding hands. When he walked in on them kissing in the kitchen, he'd been hysterically melodramatic about it, falling to the floor as if his eyes were being burnt out of his skull by the mere sight of Cas kissing his brother. They didn't mind, though. For Dean, there was no way he could handle this without his little brother. For once, he needed someone to talk to and get advice, and Sam not only relished the role, he was pretty good at it.

The last week in March brought gorgeous dry weather. Everyone was in a good mood and thanks to Cas, even Sam was enjoying school more now that Thaddeus had toned his shit down. None of the teachers wanted to be in school any more than the kids did. Spring Break was a week away and while Dean didn't have any plans, just the break from work would be welcome. So classes were a breeze and hanging out outside at lunch was a given.

On Wednesday, Meg was lying on Cas's lap and he pulled apart and fed her pieces of the day's lunch fare. Dean managed to eat his own food despite being annoyed by how close those two were physically. Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous; he just wished it was him. He wished he could hold Cas's hand and kiss him on the cheek between classes. But Dean was nowhere near ready for that.

"What's up, bitches?" Charlie cried, settling herself on Dean's shoulders even though he was sitting down.

"Need a chair, Charles?"

"Nope, I'm good right here on my trusty steed."

That'll teach Dean to give her a piggyback ride when they're supposed to be running a mile in PE.

"Uggh, why does she always have to spew unicorn vomit everywhere?" Meg complained, arching her back to look up at Cas.

Nope. Definitely not jealous.

"Be nice, kitten, try to retract those claws," he brushed a hand over her forehead before looking up and hitting Charlie with a kind smile.

The sight of him straight on takes Dean's breath away. Meg had taken to putting black eyeliner on Cas, making his blue eyes pop even more than usual. She had also started painting his nails black, and just the sight of them made Dean begin to plump up. God, his boyfriend was hot.

Wait.

No.

He didn't just think that. They'd never said that. It wasn't like… Fuck.

Dean's internal crisis came to a halt as Benny and Garth settled in beside them and Charlie finally demurred to sit in the grass like the rest of them.

"So, I'm thinking of asking Jo out," Charlie announced.

Garth smiled at her. "Go for it! You never know until you try."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Joe's a great guy. I had English with him last year."

Everyone in the circle turned to face him until Charlie rolled her eyes and gave him a withering stare. "Dude, how did you miss that I'm into chicks, not dicks?"

"Oh… Oh! So you mean field hockey, Jo?"

"Yeah, what do you think? Do I have a chance?"

"Totally, she's tough, though, might take some work to get her to let you in."

"I wonder what that's like," Cas muttered and Dean was tempted to throw half a grilled cheese sandwich at him, but he stuffed it in his mouth anyway.

"Let's make a wager," Benny said to Charlie. "I'm gonna try my luck with that dark-haired beauty, Andrea. What do you say? First one to get a yes before spring break has to clean out the other's car."

"You've clearly never seen Charlie's car," Dean snides and the conversation jumps between dates and cars and classes. It's organized chaos and Dean loves it. It's everything he always wanted his friends to be and thanks to Cas, he'd found his people.

Just as he's relishing the good luck he's had, Gordon and Victor walked by.

"Hey Krushnic, really working on your faggot vibe, huh?" Gordon spits out, throwing the two guys into a fit of laughter.

As soon as it's said, Meg was up on her feet, hurtling fists first toward him. She screamed at them mostly incoherently, rage flaring so bright you could almost see the black smoke pouring out of her.

Dean lunged and grabbed her around the waist, restraining her from potentially getting arrested for two homicides.

"Fuck off, Walker," Dean said, carrying a writhing Meg toward the brick wall of the school. He'd gotten a hold on her but stayed close enough to hear what happened in case he needed to aim her at someone's throat. She'd actually look pretty good soaked in blood.

"Are you really that dense," Charlie started, and oh boy, Dean knew a rant when he saw one. "First of all, not a single person here asked your fucking opinion about anything, let alone about Castiel's appearance. Second of all, you, Sir Douchebag, don't have a leg to stand on. At least Cas looks hot as shit, whereas you look like a reject out of a sports uniform catalog."

Garth choked on his smoothie.

"And C - your outdated hetero-normative assumption that being called gay is somehow an insult is honestly pathetic. No one gives a fuck who you are sleeping with, and for what it's worth, no one here gives a fuck who Cas is doing anything with because he's our friend. You, however, are not. And even though I'm sure you have the misguided assumption that gay-coded guys are weak, I'd place hard money on Castiel beating your ass to a pulp if it came down to it. And if not, he has way more backup standing here than you have ever had in your lonely, pathetic life. So Fuck off, Gordon. No one here wants to look at your stupid face."

Gordon shifted his weight and muttered before saying, "Your face is stupid," and walking off.

"That was epic!" Garth high-fived Charlie and Dean released Meg to go check on Cas.

He hung back a little himself until he heard Cas's deep voice softly ask, "You think I'm gay-coded?"

He looked so confused and small and Dean couldn't stop himself from walking up and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, the eyeliner and nail polish kind of push it over the top, but yeah, it's not a bad thing," Charlie said as they sat back down. "But that is why he said what he said."

Cas goes to wipe his lower lashes as if to remove the eyeliner.

Dean grabbed his arm. "Don't take it off if you like it. That's all that matters."

Cas looked up through long black lashes with blue eyes set to stun by the black rims. "Do you like it?"

Dean nods with a tender smile, one of the ones only meant for Cas. "I think it's hot as shit." He squeezes Cas's arm before pulling away, leaving their legs pressed together. He wants to kiss him, let him know that all that coding shit and stereotypes don't mean anything to him. Cas was Cas. That's all that mattered.

The rest of the day was subdued and he didn't get a chance to talk to Cas more. After school, Cas went home with Meg, but Dean really hoped he'd whisk his way over at some point. He hated that touch of soft pain he'd seen in Cas and he needed to make sure he knew that Dean didn't care about that shit. But if that was true, why didn't Dean hold his hand or kiss him when he was hurting.

Fuck.

The afternoon was a clusterfuck of him losing his temper at Sam for nothing and then harassing Bobby about when he could get this fucking cast off. He made an angry dinner for them all and flat out refused to make a salad. Sam could make it his fucking self. He thought about texting Cas but what would he say? Hey, don't feel bad about being called a faggot even though I refuse to be with you in public for fear of being called a faggot.

That was just a little too on the nose.

So instead, he took it out on everyone and everything else until finally, Bobby sent him to the store to buy some milk and coffee, which they had plenty of. Still, everybody seemed to know he needed to take a drive.

Dean took the long way 'round, driving back roads and taking little detours. By the time he got home, it was after dark. He pulled the Impala up to the house but could spot another car around the corner. He climbed out with the groceries in his hands and took a peek. A black Sierra Grande sat parked on the side.

Dean dropped his bags and ran to the front door. If his Dad was here, it couldn't be for anything good. When he whipped the door open Bobby screamed for him from the living room. John Winchester was laid out on the couch, towels pressed against his stomach. His face had a sickly pale pallor and his breath was labored.

"What happened?" Dean screamed his hands somewhere between reaching for his father and punching the wall.

"He's been shot. Son, it doesn't look so good." Bobby shook his head.

Sam stood in the corner, tears in his eyes. Dean reached out and Sam rushed to his side, curling his frame into his brother's one-armed embrace for comfort.

"Take care of my boys," John groaned, lifting his hand and then dropping it again.

"Well, fix him! Dean demanded, squaring off to Bobby.

"You know I've tried. Sometimes there's nothin' that can be done." Bobby shook his head, his eyebrows coming together in grief.

No, his Dad wasn't dead yet. No grief. This isn't how things end.

"We take him to the hospital, then."

"No, Dean, No," John whispered, reaching for Dean. Bobby grabbed onto Sam so Dean could kneel down and hear his father's wheezing voice. "Gunshot wound will bring police and then I either die or get arrested. And the state will take you boys away from Bobby. They'll separate you." John coughed and shook his head. "I won't have that. I'm going anyway, probably wouldn't even make it to the hospital. You stay with Bobby. He'll take care of you. You take care of Sammy. Keep him safe…"

John was just babbling now, the blood soaking through the towels. His eyes fluttered closed and Sam sobbed against Bobby's chest.

"Shit! Fuck!" Dean screamed, kicking Bobby's desk, but the man didn't give the usual reprimand, just looked at him with sad eyes. And that's what broke him, the sad eyes of a man who had given up.

"Cas," he took out his phone and turned away, letting it ring three than four times.

Cas didn't even say hello when he answered, "You're calling me, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I know texting is better, but I need you. I need your help. Like right now. This instant."

"Are you okay?"

"No," Dean choked back a sob. "Please, can you come here now, whirlwind your ass over to Bobby's house?"

"Of course," Cas said, standing right next to him, phone still in his hand. "How can I help?"