Dean had thoroughly enjoyed his weekend, spending it all with his brother. After their Hatchet Man marathon Friday night, they had slept until Saturday afternoon. Once they had both showered, Dean had driven them to the mall where they had gotten dinner and gone to see a movie. Sunday, he had gone to see Lisa, but had been on edge until he got back home. Something was up with her, and he wasn't sure what. Just as he was sitting down to dinner with Sammy, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. With a quick glance, he had confirmed it to be their father. Shit.

"Hey, Dad," Dean answered casually, exchanging looks with his brother, shrugging.

"I watched your game highlights online," John began quietly, leaving icy cold dread coursing through Dean's veins. "Is your name Losechester, boy?"

"N-no," Dean sighed, "It was a mistake, Dad. Coach says we'll get 'em back in the playoffs."

"I didn't realize that Coach Singer was your father," John snapped, causing Dean to wince at the volume of his voice.

"He's not," Dean began, "But, Da-"

"You are such a disappointment, Dean. You don't even deserve to play on that team," John slurred, the sound of something breaking coming through the line.

Dean bit his tongue in anger, knowing better than to argue when his father was drinking. He caught Sam's sympathetic glance from across the table, and he ducked his head.

"Can you imagine what your mother would think," John stated cruelly, "She loved football, remember? Imagine how she would feel to have a disappointment of a son."

"Mom is dead, Dad," Dean finally snapped. "And in case you haven't noticed, you're not here either! Maybe I would have more time to practice if you were here to be a father to Sammy!"

He heard the call disconnect, and he slammed his phone down on the table, putting his head in his hands. Angry tears slid down his cheeks, and he felt like he was going to vomit. How could he say such things?

"...Dean," Sam whispered, his own tears sliding down his face. "You know it's not true. He just..."

"He's drunk," Dean finished, "Yeah, what else is new. Look, man, I'm sorry you had to hear that. Please know that I don't blame you for any of this."

"But you're right," Sam mumbled. "If Dad was here, you could have more time to do the things you wanted, Dean. I get that it must suck being a senior and having to take care of your dorky brother."

"First of all, you absolutely are dorky," Dean admitted, causing Sam to roll his eyes and laugh. "But Sammy, you aren't this burden that stops me from doing all the shit I want to do. I like spending time with you, dude." He reached across the table to ruffle Sam's hair, earning a loving glare. "But if you tell anyone I said that, I will deny it."

"Jerk," Sam scoffed.

"Bitch," Dean smirked, twirling his spaghetti with his fork.

The next morning at school, he had arrived late, having slept in from being up most of the night. As much as he knew they weren't true, he could not stop thinking about his father's words. They had cut him deeply, and he couldn't think of anything but his mom. Sammy had been too young to remember the accident, but Dean remembered it clearly. He had asked her to make lasagna for dinner that night, and she hadn't had all of the ingredients. When she went out to the store to get them, she was blindsided by a semi-truck that had run the red light. Dean is still haunted by the howl of despair that his father had let out when the officers came to the door. His father had never been the same. It was Dean's fault that she was gone.

He had passed Lisa on his way to homeroom as usual, but she had only quickly pecked him on the cheek before hurrying off to her own classroom. Okay, something was seriously up with her. Dean frowned, deciding to confront her later. His day dragged by slowly, and he had zoned out in most of his classes. He had almost gotten in trouble in Calculus, but thankfully Benny had mouthed the answer to the question he had been asked. He loved that guy.

As the bell rang, signaling his last period of the day, Dean made his way to Castiel's room, realizing with a flutter of curiosity that he would he getting his next assignment today. No, he was not excited about it. Just curious.

When he entered the classroom, Castiel smiled warmly from his desk, and before Dean had realized it, he was smiling back. So much better than Michael, Dean thought.

"Hello, class. Apologies for the extended absence last week," Cas began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm afraid I had a family emergency to attend to. I am so sorry for leaving you with the other Mr. Novak in my absence." He did a dramatic shiver, met with laughter from the class.

Dean frowned as he realized that his instructor did not mention the death in his family that he had told him about, but quickly pushed that thought aside. Castiel had started passing back their classwork from the week before, placing each stack of papers face down on the corresponding student's desk. When he got to Dean's desk, he gave him a wink before setting down his own stack of work. Dean's stomach flipped as he turned the stack over, noting check marks at the top of each page, and "100" on the essay they had written in class on Friday. Dean smirked at the underlined "Excellent job, Dean!" scrawled at the top of the page, even smiling at the bee sticker that had no right to be as cute as it was. Awesome.

At the end of class, Castiel approached him with another envelope, waving it mysteriously in front of him, "I am very impressed so far, Dean. I have not read your second assignment yet, but I'm sure that you did very well."

"Uh, thanks," Dean smiled sheepishly at the praise, clearly embarrassed. "My uh, condolences for your loss."

Castiel gave him a sad smile, and placed the envelope in his hand, "Thank you, Dean. That's very kind of you. I'm afraid that loss is never easy."

Dean's heart clenched at the thought of his mother, "No, it definitely is not. I remember when we lost my mom, it was really hard. I was little, but it didn't make it any easier, you know?"

Castiel stared at Dean in shock, not realizing that he had also lost his mother, "I... I'm sorry to hear that. I had no idea."

"It's okay, it's been a long time. I still remember her pretty clearly, but my little brother was just a baby at the time. He doesn't remember her at all, and I still don't really know if I should envy him or not," Dean remarked sadly.

Castiel swallowed hard, feeling a great wave of sadness wash over him. The young man before him was wise beyond his years, even if his colleagues only saw his letterman jacket. He felt the need to say something, to take this child's pain away, but he was unsure how. "Well, I'm sure your mother loved you very much, Dean," he said softly. With a great sigh, he continued, "It was my mother I lost last week. Cancer. I had been so busy with the start of the school year that I hadn't been to see her recently. When we spoke on the phone last Saturday, she seemed fine."

Dean looked up in shock, his heart sinking to his stomach at the information that the older man had chosen to share with him. "...Cas, I am so sorry," Dean said quietly, not realizing that he had called the other man by his nickname.

Castiel stared at him for a moment before dropping his head, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him, "My apologies, Dean. I did not mean to burden you with my personal affairs."

"No! Uh- I mean, it's fine," Dean said quickly, mentally kicking himself. "It's totally okay. I mean, I get it, you know? I've been there."

Castiel nodded, finally meeting Dean's eyes again, "You are very kind. More so than many of your peers. You should be proud of that, Dean."

Dean blushed, embarrassed once more at the praise, "Don't mention it." He glanced at the clock, realizing the time, "I should go, I have practice." He grabbed his bag, tossing it over his shoulder and made for the door. As he reached the threshold, he turned back to the other man, "Um, I know they probably like, frown upon this, and I know I'm just some dumb high school kid, but... If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me." He smiled at Cas, then hurried off to the locker room for practice.

The moment he was gone, Castiel sank into his chair and cried.