You and I (Collide)

by vintagenoise

A Different Sort of Destiel HSAU; Part 1 of the Young Volcanoes series - 15 year-old Castiel Milton is used to rubbing elbows with the elite at the summer resort just outside of Sileas, OR. In the summer of 2005, he steps outside his gilded world and discovers friendship like he's never known before with Dean Winchester.

4. The Glow in our Wires

warning for some violence and underage drinking

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I come alive as the shadows parade
My hot summer blood comes in floods and in waves

Curbside confessions, no longer afraid of what you'll say

- "Streetlights," Ludo

July 1st, 2005

When there's a knock on the door just before 10pm, Michael's head immediately swivels in Castiel's direction. Which, frankly, is uncalled for, considering Castiel has tried to be good and still hasn't gone to find his phone or attempt to contact his friends. So Castiel scowls right back at Michael, while Lucifer takes it upon himself to actually answer the door.

"Oh! Good evening, Miss Talbot," comes from the doorway, and Castiel's annoyance immediately turns into surprise. He leans over the back of the couch, and yes, that's Bela in a short, shiny dress, her hair tousled to frame her bright red smile when she notices him.

"You're not even dressed yet!" Bela scolds, stepping past Lucifer to approach a shell-shocked Castiel. "Did you forget?"

Forget? Forget what, a half-hearted promise a self-absorbed princess made weeks ago? Honestly, Castiel thought she was the one who had forgotten about him. "I… no. I just. Didn't realize how late it was," he stammers, pushing himself off the couch. "I'll go change. Sorry."

Bela pouts playfully at him. Michael, however, looks delighted as he ushers her towards the empty space Castiel left behind, apologizing and engaging her in polite conversation.

Castiel closes his bedroom door and pokes through his closet, trying to find a dress shirt and some nice trousers. Okay, maybe in all the drama with his family and Dean, he had tucked away and forgotten Bela's offer to escort him to a backwoods party with her friends. He thought about it every once in a while, tried to picture what she'd wear or what would happen if they had a little too much to drink, but as the weeks went by with no sign of Bela, he'd shrugged it off. It wasn't a huge loss, when Dean and his friends were so much more interesting.

But then Dean and his friends were out of reach, and Castiel remembers what it was that made Bela pay attention to him in the first place: they both know Dean. Dean might be at this… get-together, for lack of a better word. Suddenly, Castiel is smiling, moving with a bit more purpose, making his decisions with a bit more care.

He picks out a pale blue button-down and a pair of khakis, and even takes the time to try and brush his hair. He opts out of the tie and dress shoes. Michael will frown at this decision, but his reaction would be far worse if he found mud on those nice shoes, or suspicious stains on those expensive ties. Better safe than sorry, Castiel thinks. At least his trainers are already muddy.

Bela's lips form a red little 'o' when he emerges, as though she hadn't expected him to clean up nicely. She quickly collects herself, however, standing up and hooking her arm through Castiel's. It's the same gesture Jo used the night they met, but Jo was attempting to be warm and inclusive. Bela is only putting on a show. For the millionth time, pain rings in Castiel's chest as he thinks of his friends.

Technically, Castiel is still grounded, but no one thinks to mention this. Michael still looks like Christmas came early, ushering them out the door with a gooey smile and a wink in Castiel's direction. Once the door is closed behind them, Bela drops Castiel's arm and turns to reappraise him on her own terms.

"Play your cards right, and you just might get lucky tonight, tiger," she says after a moment, smiling when Castiel's eyebrows raise. He starts to ask her what the hell that means, but before he gets the chance, she's leading the way off the porch and out to the parking lot, where her father ordered a car to take them into town.

"Daddy thinks we're going to the movies," Bela says, once they're on the road. She's talking to her compact again, touching up her lipstick, since apparently she prefers to look at her own face instead of her companion's. "He doesn't actually care too much what I get up to, so long as it's with a name he recognizes." She puts the lipstick away, pulls out a tissue to blot with. "So we've got all night, darling."

"What are we really doing?" Castiel asks, watching her even as she refuses to watch him, hating that he can't look away. But it all seems worth it when her green eyes flicker his way, just for an instant, before she smiles into the little mirror again.

"You're friends with Dean, isn't that right? Well, tonight, I'm going to introduce you to his…" she pauses, then grins as she claps her compact shut. "His underground friends, let's say.

Bela scoots down the seat, sitting close enough that their thighs touch, and though she does nothing else until the car pulls up outside the movie theater, Castiel can't stop thinking about the heat simmering in his blood from her proximity. Is she just playing a game with him, or is she actually flirting? Castiel knows a couple of girls at school who are infatuated with him, but one of them tends to just blush and giggle whenever he's nearby, and the other acts out, brash and bossy, to get his attention. It's not this subtle intent, which Bela seems to work as almost an artform.

The way she had looked at him at the bungalow, had reappraised him and come on to him, maybe she does find him attractive. But does that mean anything? Castiel hasn't even kissed a girl yet, embarrassing as that may be at his age, and here's Bela promising more than just a kiss with the soft sway of her hips, the brush of her hand, a toss of her hair.

Castiel is so preoccupied, he doesn't even notice where they're going until they're well past the tree line. "Um," he starts, but Bela shushes him. She's carrying her strappy black heels in one hand, moving forward in a pair of flats, and Castiel doesn't even remember her stopping to change her shoes. Up ahead, he can hear laughter, shouts, and glass breaking. "Um," he tries again, but Bela just turns and glares at him until he bites his lower lip and watches the ground instead.

It's so dark out that Castiel isn't sure how she knows just where to go without a flashlight, but then he supposes she's made the trip enough times that it doesn't matter. Besides, when he looks up again, he can see the cool glow of a lantern through the trees up ahead, the same place that the voices are coming from. Bela slows down until she's walking next to him and takes his hand. Immediately, his heartbeat picks up, and his mouth goes dry. Play your cards right, echoes through his head, and he tries to smile when she quirks an eyebrow at him.

"These guys can be kinda rough," she says, the first words she's spoken since before they got out of the car. "But I guess you already know that, if you're hanging out with Dean. Just stick with me." Her shoulder brushes against his, just a little touch making hope explode in fireworks across his skin. "I'll protect you."

But despite the tizzy his body is going into, Castiel can't help feeling sad. She's teasing him, trying to draw him in, playing with him like a toy, and he knows it. He knows it because Dean has made the same promise, and meant it. Dean meant it enough that he made the town sheriff check up on the situation. Castiel can't stop himself from reacting to Bela's little touches, can't keep his brain from buzzing whenever he thinks of those words (you might get lucky tonight), but maybe if he keeps reminding himself that he's little more than a doll to her, he'll still be able to respect himself in the morning.

Bela gently tugs at Castiel's hand, leading him into a clearing bathed in bluish light. There's a pair of girls leaning up against a tree, passing a bottle in a brown paper bag back and forth. Closer to the lantern are a trio of boys, one of whom looks old enough to be a senior, or perhaps even older. When he smiles at Bela, the other two turn around, and Castiel can't help smiling when he realizes one of those two is Dean.

Dean, however, raises his eyebrows and takes in a slow breath when he recognizes Castiel, then immediately turns back around, taking a swig from a long, clear bottle and rubbing at his face. Castiel's smile drops, but Bela's tugging on his hand again, gesturing for him to sit down next to Dean. The other two girls approach, one of them pulling a pair of black leggings out of the bag at her hip. "You shoulda told me you were bringing a date, Bela," the girl teases, tossing her blonde hair off her shoulder as Bela takes the offered leggings and starts to pull them on. "I would've brought something more comfy for him too."

"He'll be fine," Bela mutters, sitting next to Castiel, close enough that their knees and elbows touch. Castiel feels like she's staking a claim as she stares this older girl down. "Cas, can I introduce you?"

"Sure?" Castiel says, momentarily taken aback by her use of his nickname.

"That's Lilith," Bela says, pointing to the blonde girl. Lilith just smiles at him, slowly, until Castiel feels like a piece of meat in a tiger trap. "The other one's Ruby." A brunette with flushed cheeks waves a hand; she seems far less troublesome, or at least less interested, potentially just more drunk. "Alastair and Azazel are the gargoyles to your right." The boy with light-colored eyes looks up, annoyed, but the older one just smiles serenely and shakes his head. Bela elbows Castiel and smirks. "You already know Prince Dean."

Dean doesn't move. He stares at the nearly-empty bottle in his lap, breathing slowly, and Castiel frowns, a little hurt. This is the first time they've seen each other in almost a week, and Dean knows that Castiel's been on lockdown, but he won't even spare a glance for him? So much for Kirk and Spock.

Bela places a hand on Castiel's knee, drawing his attention back to her. "This, my friends, is Castiel Milton. Be nice and say hello."

Lilith just keeps smiling at him, and Azazel waves a reluctant hand. Alastair smirks at Bela. "I thought you only went around with boys that had something to offer to society, Bela. Ain't that what you told me?"

His voice is raspy and lilting, but something about it sends a chill down Castiel's neck. Bela smirks, apparently used to it by now. "Yes. I meant what I said, Al."

"No offense, Cas, but what do you have to offer society? You're just a kid."

Dean finally looks up, but it's to glare in Alastair's direction, which Castiel takes as a small comfort. Before he or Dean can speak, however, Bela beats them to it.

"His family gives him quite a boost, I think." She smiles at Castiel, and for a moment he thinks that fawning gaze is real. "His mother is part of the Adler family, you know, that preacher that comes on TV sometimes? But his father's where it gets interesting."

Oh no.

Dean turns to Bela, his eyes alight with curiosity. Castiel squeezes her hand, tries to shush her, but she waves him off, apparently eager to pop his family's balloon of privacy just for the opportunity to gloat.

"His father is Chuck Milton, also known as Carver Edlund, author of the Supernatural series."

Castiel turns back to Dean, trying to quell his panic. Dean is finally looking at him, finally meeting his eyes, and Castiel sees hurt there, betrayal, and anger, before Dean turns back to the bottle in his lap, taking a long drink. The lines of his body are tense, his fingers fidgeting, and Castiel sighs.

"I've read those!" says Ruby, which leads Castiel to look up. The other kids are appropriately impressed; even Alastair seems to be reappraising him, which makes Castiel wonder if his father's books are reaching further than he thought. "I haven't read the newest one," Ruby continues, "haven't had the time, but I thought they were pretty good."

Castiel glances at Dean again, but he only moves to toss his bottle away, refusing to meet Castiel's eyes.

Alastair pulls out another long, clear bottle and starts to pass it around. Encouraged by Bela and Lilith, Castiel takes his first drink of vodka. It's sharp and bitter, burning down his throat, and the girls laugh at his expression once he's done. Lilith crawls over to sit on Castiel's other side, shoving Dean away, so she and Bela can continue goading Castiel into drinking. Castiel knows it's a bad idea. He's heard all the peer pressure speeches from counselors and teachers and his brothers. But Bela kisses his earlobe every time she whispers in his ear, and Lilith is pressed up against his bicep, and it's more than a little overwhelming, and certainly very hard to say no.

Castiel is only just feeling tipsy when someone wrenches the bottle from his hands and tosses it into the woods. The glass shatters, and Azazel yells, "What the fuck, that bottle was thirty bucks!" But Castiel just keeps his eyes on Dean, who is staring down at him, backlit by the lantern, terrifying in the shadows that hide his eyes.

"What's got your knickers in a twist, Winchester?" Bela snaps, her lower lip pouted out. Dean turns his glare towards her, and she shrinks back a little, gripping Castiel's shoulder.

"Are you jealous of little Castiel?" Lilith purrs. "Pretty angel stealing all your girls away?"

Ruby laughs from somewhere Castiel can't see, but Dean just takes a deep breath before speaking the first words Castiel's heard him say all night:

"Let's get this over with."

What, Castiel wants to ask, but Alastair and Azazel are making approving noises, trying to stand on their own. Bela smiles at Castiel as she stands, and she exchanges an amused look with Lilith when Castiel struggles to find his balance. Did he really drink that much? Each girl grabs an arm, attempting to pull him up, only to end up laughing when they inevitably fall backwards.

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs the lantern, handing it to Lilith when she gets up again. "You guys go ahead, I'll help Cas."

Lilith shrugs, lifting the lantern as she heads back into the woods. Ruby, Alastair, and Azazel follow her, but Bela pouts at Dean. "Castiel is my date, I should help him."

"Yeah, nah, that's not happening," Dean says, leaning down and pulling one of Castiel's arms around his shoulders. "You shouldn't have brought him here in the first place, I'm sure as hell not letting you pull your shit on him."

Castiel blinks slowly, surprised, as Dean helps him to stand. After Dean's anger, after his silence, he's still going to try and protect Castiel? A spark flickers in Castiel's chest, and though it's small, it spreads quickly, and is far more comforting than anything he's ever felt with Bela.

"Go on," Dean says, and though Bela is still pouting, she picks up her shoes and heads off after Lilith's light. Dean exhales slowly through his nose before he starts walking. Castiel finds that he can walk better than he can stand, but Dean might still be the only thing keeping him upright.

"I'm sorry," Castiel says. Dean huffs again, readjusting his arm around Castiel's back.

"For what," Dean mutters, "for showing up here, with Bela? Not telling me about your dad? Not even trying to get in touch with me while you were on lockdown?"

"That's not fair." Castiel frowns. "Gabe said he texted you, you knew I didn't have my phone-"

"You still coulda tried!" Dean rubs his free hand over his mouth, doesn't bother looking at Cas. The lantern light is far ahead of them, the others' voices barely audible. "You gave your brother the bird and ran off, but you can't bother to steal your phone back for five minutes?" Dean shakes his head. "Mixed signals, man."

"Sorry I'm not as skilled in the art of rebellion as you are, Dean," Castiel says flatly.

They fall silent for a moment, both angry and trying not to stumble as they walk downhill through rough terrain, with only each other for balance. The lantern is getting further and further away, but Dean doesn't seem to be in any hurry, so Castiel doesn't worry about it. He does, however, miss his footing and skid in the dirt before falling on his face, dragging Dean down with him.

Castiel lays there, unable to think of a reason to get back up, but Dean is shuffling around next to him, and finally snaps, "Dammit, Cas," so Castiel opens his eyes and peers up at his friend. Dean is sitting cross-legged on the ground, slumped over and glaring at Castiel.

"What," Castiel groans, finally pushing himself up, but only enough so he can roll over onto his back. The moon is full, or almost full, and light is escaping through the treetops, just enough to see each other by.

"I'm gonna guess you've never gotten drunk before," Dean mutters.

"Nope."

"Surprise, surprise." Dean sighs softly. "You should've told me about your dad."

"Yeah," Castiel agrees. Dean raises his eyebrows. "I probably should've. But I didn't."

"Why not?"

Castiel shrugs. He'll probably regret getting dirt all over his good clothes, but right now it's just nice to be back out in the world with Dean. "Father is very protective of his privacy, and our family's privacy. It never even occurred to me not to keep it secret." He glances up at Dean, hoping his eyes can express his sincerity, the way Dean's can. "I didn't do it to be cruel, or to trick you. I am sorry."

Dean watches him closely for a moment, then turns away, fiddling with something in his lap. "Are you dating Bela?" he asks. Castiel laughs without thinking.

"I don't think she really likes me at all," he explains when Dean gives him a strange look. "I don't think I even like her."

"Then why are you here with her?" Dean tosses something out into the woods as Castiel finally sits up, mirroring Dean's position, facing in the opposite direction.

"To see you," Castiel answers honestly. Dean sits up straight, eyes wide, and Castiel smiles when he realizes that, if the sun were out, he'd be able to see Dean's cheeks turning pink. Dean tries to cover up his embarrassment with an awkward laugh, a little shrug.

"Stop doing that to me, that honesty thing," Dean says, running a hand through his hair. "Gotta give a guy a warning before you drop a chick-flick moment on him."

Castiel laughs quietly, picking up a twig by his ankles and using it to doodle aimlessly in the dirt. Whatever it is Bela and Lilith and the others are doing, it's certainly not as important as this. "Dean, have you dated girls before?"

"Of course," Dean answers, smirking again.

"And kissed them?"

"Absolutely." Dean rolls his eyes. "Why would you even ask that?"

"Well, Charlie did say you were a virgin."

Dean scowls outright, though it fades when Castiel turns to him with a smile. "One of these days," Dean says, pointing his own stick in Castiel's face, "I'm gonna start figuring out when you're being a little shit, and then you won't be so funny."

"I'll worry about that in twenty years," Castiel says. "How many girls have you kissed?"

Dean has to think about it, which is honestly a little worrisome until he finally sighs and admits, "Just the one."

Castiel blinks at him. "That's it?"

"I'm only fifteen," Dean says with a shrug. "What makes you think there'd be more than that?"

Truthfully, Castiel's not sure. Dean is good-looking, for one thing, and constantly surrounded by girls, for another. But out here, in the woods, with just the moonlight and trees for company, Dean has no reason to lie, and Castiel can't think of a reason why he would. "Never mind. Could you tell me what it's like, then?"

Now it's Dean's turn to be surprised. "You've never been kissed?"

"Don't act so shocked, Dean. Like you, I'm only fifteen."

"Yeah, but…" Dean trails off, biting on his lower lip. "Why do you want to know?"

Castiel fidgets for a moment, then tosses his stick away before leaning into Dean's shoulder. "Bela told me tonight, if I play my cards right, I might get lucky."

Dean goes still for a tense second, then slowly leans away, green eyes darting over Castiel's face. "You do know," he says carefully, "'getting lucky' is more than just a kiss, right?"

"Just because I don't go to public school, doesn't mean I'm a naive, asocial idiot. I know what it means." Castiel huffs, leaning back on his hands to look at the moon.

"Don't you mean 'anti-social?'"

"No." Castiel's eyes narrow. "I mean, 'Shut the fuck up, Dean.'"

But Dean is grinning despite Castiel's glare, and after a moment, Castiel can't help laughing. Soon, they're both laid out on their backs, giggling alone in the woods, and every time their eyes meet, the giggles start anew. It's pleasant and it's comfortable, and Castiel briefly wonders if the others are waiting for them, but then Dean is sitting up again.

"Seriously, though, I think I see what you're getting at. If you don't want to kiss her, then don't kiss her, it's that simple."

"But when will I have this opportunity again?" Castiel asks, sitting up and twisting around, so that he and Dean are both facing towards the town. Warm little lights are glowing beyond the treeline down the hill, stable and still. "A pretty girl eager to kiss me?"

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Are you fucking serious?" He asks, deadpan. Castiel meets his gaze, but doesn't respond, and Dean lets out a breathy little laugh. "Really?" He says, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Seriously?" Castiel tilts his head, confused, which just makes Dean laugh again. "Okay, dude, no homo, but you're hot. Okay?"

Castiel reels back, blinking at Dean. "Excuse me?"

"I said 'no homo,' calm your tits!" Dean chuckles, shaking his head. "Bed-head, blue eyes, clear skin, you're golden. From a completely objective point of view, of course." He clears his throat, turning his eyes back to the moonlit trees. "You're going to have hundreds of opportunities to kiss somebody else before you even turn sixteen."

Castiel sighs. "I'll be sixteen in September."

"My point still stands."

A grin fights its way onto Castiel's face. "So what you're saying is, because I'm 'objectively' hot, I'll have hundreds of opportunities to kiss somebody over the next two months?"

"Yep."

"Then you'll have thousands of opportunities."

Dean turns to blink at Cas before a bark of laughter escapes him. "Is that your way of saying I'm sexy?" he asks, but Castiel just casually shrugs his shoulders.

"No homo, Dean."

Again, that sudden jolt of laughter, and Castiel joins him this time, leans against him and soaks up his warmth. If this is what being drunk is like, then Castiel is going to have to do it again, and soon. But that train of thought comes to a crashing halt when Dean turns and gently presses his lips to Castiel's.

They both freeze, staring directly into each other's round eyes. For a long moment, neither moves; it's just a dry touching of mouths, motionless, and Castiel feels a little numb with the shock. It's like the whole world's gone still; even the woods are quiet except for the soft sound of the wind in the trees.

Dean pulls away first, and now he's blushing bright enough that Castiel can see it in the moonlight. They continue to gape at one another, Dean's jaw working as if he wants to speak, but Castiel manages to beat him to it:

"You kissed me."

Dean bites his upper lip, cheeks still glowing pink.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"I didn't mean to!" Dean argues, his voice cracking mid-sentence. "I just turned and you were there and then oops, our mouths touched!"

Castiel brings his fingertips to his lips, muffling his next words: "You just stole my first kiss!"

"I did not!"

"Did so!"

"No!" Dean throws his hands up, sending dirt and leaves scattering into the air. "I did you a favor!"

"How?!" Now it's Castiel's voice that cracks.

Dean takes a moment to fidget, glancing around as if to ensure they're alone. "Now, if Bela kisses you, it doesn't have to be your first."

Castiel hesitates, thinking it over. Yeah, he was concerned about having his first kiss, about whether or not he wanted to kiss a girl he doesn't particularly care for, but that doesn't mean he wanted Dean to take the spot. "So it was Bela, or you?" He says slowly, squinting at Dean. "I thought you just said I'd have hundreds of opportunities, I didn't need you taking that choice away from me?"

"But did I?" Dean says. "Did I really?"

Castiel continues to watch Dean, and only realizes now that he's leaning away as Dean leans in. "Explain."

Dean takes a moment, making thoughtful little noises as he tries to organize his thoughts. "Okay. Yeah, sure, that was a kiss. But was it really? I mean, it was an accident, kinda, and we didn't even move or open our mouths or anything, and we're both guys!" He holds his hands out, palms up, and gives up an awkward smile. "Does it even count?"

"Does it?" Castiel shoots back. "You tell me."

"No, that's your decision." Dean scoots across the dirt, until their knees are touching, leaning into Castiel's face as if challenging him to move away. Castiel doesn't budge. "I think that's what I'm trying to say. You get to choose what's meaningful enough to be remembered forever. Is it an accident with your best friend? Is it a rich girl you don't even like? Or maybe it's neither, and you're gonna wait for the right girl. That's okay too."

Castiel stares at him. "You're drunk," he accuses, even though Dean's words have struck a chord in him. It's a nice thought, and though he keeps telling himself it's not realistic, that's not how it works, Dean's rambling little apology settles in, wiggles around and makes itself at home.

So Castiel smiles. "Do you think the others are still waiting for us?"

Dean's face crumples, and he makes a strange little groaning noise. "Probably," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Alastair doesn't like to start without me."

Castiel tucks his feet under himself and manages to stand on his own, a little wobbly, but still upright. "What exactly is it that we're doing tonight?"

The look Dean gives him is mournful, his eyes speaking volumes that Castiel doesn't understand. "You'll just have to wait and see."

When they cross the treeline again, back into open space, there's nobody else in sight. Dean just sighs and starts leading Castiel back to the sidewalk. They're not touching now, and Castiel isn't sure if it's because they're both capable of moving without help, or because of the kiss. A little voice keeps whispering in his head, little worries, little fears, and Castiel suddenly grips Dean's forearm.

"Was it meaningful for you?"

Dean turns to look at him, both eyebrows raised. "What?" Castiel's eyes dart back to the trees, and in the glow of the streetlights, Dean's cheeks start to color. "Oh. That. Was it what?"

"Meaningful," Castiel states, trying to clarify what he's looking for. "You said I get to choose whether it's meaningful enough to be my first kiss. What do you choose?"

"I've already had my first kiss," Dean mumbles, turning his face away. Castiel frowns and digs his nails into Dean's arm until the boy yelps, loud enough that a dog starts to bark a few blocks away. "All right, all right! I don't know, I can't… I can't say I have enough experience yet to know." He smiles weakly. "Ask me again in a couple years."

Castiel thinks it over, then nods once. "Okay. Same for me. We'll talk about this in a couple years."

Dean glances at him, chuckling softly. "You sound like you're making an appointment," he says, eyes aglow. Then, to Castiel's surprise, Dean swings an arm around his shoulder, bringing him into an enthusiastic sideways hug. "Don't ever change, Cas."

Whatever it is this little troupe does at night, it must be something they do regularly, because Dean leads the way to an empty lot just south of the boardwalk, hidden from the main road by a wooden fence. The lock on the gate is broken, and as soon as Dean has ushered Cas through, Bela is approaching them, a hand on her hip. "Thought you'd decided to ditch me," she says slowly, crossing her arms over her chest as she gives Cas a once over. Castiel only has time to wonder what she's looking for before Lilith appears at her side, smirking.

"I told her you boys had probably found a better way to spend your time." Lilith turns to Bela, who's still studying Castiel. "Looks like I was wrong." She winks at Dean, and his jaw twitches as he holds back some undoubtedly snarky response. "You're lucky you showed up before Alastair got back, Dean. He wouldn't have appreciated you sneaking out on your duties."

Dean swallows, but manages to keep his face free of emotion. Castiel nudges Dean's side. "What duties?" he asks when Dean turns to him.

"It's…" Dean looks away, but not before Castiel sees shame shutter through his eyes. They're close to the ocean, can hear the surf crashing and smell salt in the wind as it ruffles their hair. "I'm…"

"Dean's hired muscle," Lilith finishes for him, smirking again when Dean glares at her. She steps between Dean and Castiel, rests her chin on Castiel's shoulder as her hands slide around his waist. There's a flutter of excitement and heat pooling low in Castiel's gut when she touches him, but he jerks away from her, discomforted by her forward behavior, by her clear intentions. Pam and Charlie had held him much the same way, but their touch had come with genuine affection, and he knew they wouldn't take things any further than that. Such is not the case with Lilith.

Still, she takes Castiel's rejection in stride, shrugging before putting a hand on her hip. "C'mon, Dean-o, don't tell me you're ashamed of your work." She smiles wolfishly, dragging a hand through her hair. "You're doing it for sweet little Sammy, isn't that noble?"

"Shut up," Dean growls, tugging at his sleeves and turning towards the fence. Ruby is sitting in the corner, another glass bottle in another brown bag bunched up in her hand, taking a long pull as Castiel watches. He wonders, briefly, how it's so easy for them to get so much liquor, before his attention returns to Dean. To clenched fists and tense shoulders. And though Bela purses her lips and Lilith hides a smile behind her hand, Castiel still steps closer to Dean and puts a hand on his arm, trying to catch his eye.

"What does she mean, 'hired muscle?'" Castiel asks softly. Dean keeps his head turned away, his jaw a tight line. "Dean?"

"You should go," Dean says gruffly, stepping back and rubbing a hand over his face. "This doesn't really concern you, and Bela shouldn't have brought you anyway."

"Excuse me," Bela pipes up, crossing her arms over her chest. Both boys turn to her, though Dean quickly averts his eyes. "He's my date, Winchester, so you don't get to decide that. And I was under the impression he already knew about all this, just for the record."

Dean opens his mouth to argue with her, but he's interrupted by scuffling noises on the other side of the fence. Ruby stands up and stumbles over to join the rest of the group, giving Castiel a smile when she bumps into his shoulder. He quickly puts an arm around her waist, to keep her from falling over. Both Bela and Lilith are glaring in his direction, but he ignores them - Ruby is just drunk. If they were better friends, they'd be helping her instead of enviously cursing her in their heads.

Alastair and Azazel come through the gate, carrying a teenage boy between them. The boy is dragging his feet, protesting quietly, attempting to jerk away, but their grip is strong and his pleas are falling on deaf ears.

Dean swallows and closes his eyes. Castiel shifts Ruby's weight against his side, then glances at Dean. The pieces are starting to fall into place: a bad crowd of drunk kids, some possibly older, wasting time after dark in an abandoned lot. Dean, who has been such a beacon of light in Castiel's life, is suddenly even more withdrawn and secretive, too ashamed to answer Castiel's questions. And now, this unknown boy, thrown to his knees in front of Dean. He's in his pajamas, no socks under his tennis shoes, and he seems to be well-aware of what's going to happen to him now, as he stares up at Dean.

Dean, who has been so gentle. And kind. So generous and funny and welcoming.

Dean cracks his knuckles and takes a deep breath. "Do you have the money?" He asks, keeping his eyes on the boy in front of him. The boy glances over his shoulder at Alastair and Azazel, then twists back to Dean.

"I've paid half already, and I get paid on Friday, I'll have the rest then."

"They've already warned you twice," Dean answers, his voice low and almost unrecognizable. "No such thing as a free party."

"I swear, by Friday!" The boy fidgets, but Azazel fixes his grip, keeping him steady. "Please!"

But Dean doesn't listen, or doesn't care. Because as Castiel watches, Dean draws a fist back and punches the boy's jaw. Castiel yells, but it's drowned out by the sudden rising jeers of the other people around him. Even Ruby is shifting, inadvertently dragging Castiel into the little circle that's formed. She's still heavy against his side even as she curses and encourages Dean, and Castiel is a little horrified to see Lilith and Bela doing the same. Dean lets another fist fly, this one making a terrible crunching noise, and Castiel finally drops Ruby when he sees the blood in the dirt, the boy's split lip and crooked nose.

"Dean!" Castiel screams this time, but no one's paying attention to him anymore. The circle draws in tighter, especially when Alastair and Azazel lift the boy up to give Dean a bigger space to choose from, arms and chest and stomach. The cheering is probably the only thing audible from the street, but Castiel can only hear the sound of knuckles and skin, the boy's horrible groans, and Dean's grunts of exertion. Castiel covers his ears, but that only seems to amplify the sound, sends it echoing in his head, until finally he can't stand it anymore.

Castiel roughly grabs Dean's shoulder and pulls him back, stepping between him and the boy and holding up his arms. Something hits him dead-center in his chest, but as soon as he's leaning over, trying to protect himself, he feels arms around his shoulders, pulling him in, someone speaking his name.

There's fingers in his hair, and whoever it is pulls too tight, drawing his head back and making him cry out, but then Dean is there, tugging him free and snarling, "Don't you lay a fucking finger on him."

"Your little boyfriend interrupted something very important, Dean," and it's Alastair's voice, smooth and condescending. There's almost no anger in it, just a sort of jovial threat. "We can't have people thinking they can get out of paying their debts because some fool decided to play hero."

"Fuck you, nobody's hurting Cas."

"We don't owe him protection, he's not on your list."

"He is now!"

Castiel takes a deep breath and pulls himself away from Dean's grip, turning to look at Alastair. He narrows his eyes, clutching his chest as he says, "I don't know what's going on here, but I won't stand idly by and play witness to this needless violence."

The corner of Alastair's lips quirks up. "Then, by all means. Leave."

Castiel hesitates, confused, and turns to Dean. Because even after what he's witnessed, Dean is still a source of light in his life. And those green eyes are full of remorse and resignation, as if Dean fully expects Castiel to walk away and never look back now that he's seen this. As if Dean still has no idea what he's given Castiel, and how grateful Castiel has been to know him.

"Come with me," Castiel whispers. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do." Dean gently pushes Castiel out of the way. "Just go."

The beaten boy is curled up on the ground, and he whimpers when Azazel and Alastair pick him up again. Dean swallows visibly, purposely avoiding Castiel's horrified gaze as he draws his hand back again.

But his raw knuckles stay where they are. Dean clenches his fist, grits his teeth, but doesn't move. "Cas, go!" He barks, still not meeting Castiel's eyes.

"Stop fooling around," Azazel snaps, practically pushing the boy into Dean's space. "We have a deal."

Dean screws his eyes shut, lets out a breath, and finally puts his fists back to work. Disappointment surges through Castiel's veins, with sadness on its heels. Again, the jeering starts, and fails to drown out the sounds of flesh striking flesh. Castiel looks at Bela, and although she's still smiling, still clapping her hands, she's looking back at him with concern. He doesn't bother to explain, just shakes his head, and turns to walk back to the gate.

The noise has stopped by the time he reaches the opening, but he doesn't turn back. Not until he hears footsteps approaching, and Dean's voice saying his name. "Cas, hold up."

Castiel turns to look, to see that it's just Dean, and the rest of this terrible crew is still in their circle a few yards away. "They let you go?" Cas asks quietly, holding the gate open for Dean to follow him through. Dean meets his eyes, and it's the most intensely pitiful thing Castiel has ever seen.

"I'm done." Dean swallows, his voice hoarse. "I never stay for the after-party anyway."

They stare at each other for a long moment, and Castiel's not sure what to think. It's difficult to reconcile a Dean who breaks noses and leaves bruises with the clever, artistic, compassionate Dean he thought he knew. It occurs to him, again, that they've only known each other a few weeks, and realistically, he can't know which is the real Dean. There's an ache in Castiel's chest, a bruise blossoming from when he stood between Dean and that poor boy, and he rubs at it absent-mindedly.

Dean winces when he notices. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't have time to stop myself. I wouldn't hurt you on purpose."

Castiel squints at him, then drops his hand and sighs. "Dean, what the hell is going on?"

Dean glances back at the gate, then puts a hand on Castiel's arm, guiding him down the sidewalk. They're on the south side of town, and it'll be a long walk back to Dean's place, let alone to the resort. Dean stays close, keeping his voice low. "I kinda made a deal with them," he says after a moment of silence.

Castiel frowns."What kind of deal?" When Dean's jaw tightens, Castiel rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in frustration. "No, you need to tell me what I just saw back there, I deserve to know."

"You deserve to know?" Dean snarls, though he quickly cows when he sees the glower on Castiel's face.

"How am I supposed to trust you after that? How do I know who the real Dean is? How do I know you won't snap and do the same thing to me?"

"Because that's not how it works!" Dean says, almost pleading. "Cas, I'm not… some tortured animal waiting to snap. I…" He pauses to swallow, turning his gaze to his hands, where the knuckles are cut and glowing red. "When I lived in Topeka, I ran around with this bunch of other kids causing trouble. We'd pick fights and steal things and they'd get me to graffiti walls… all that stupid shit." His hands clench into fists. "I did it to protect Sam. I knew, if I made a name for myself like that, no one would fuck with my little brother. But Mom got tired of the cops bringing me home, and that's why we moved out here last summer. So Ellen and Bobby and Jo could help her keep an eye on me."

Dean's breath hitches, and he turns to Castiel with glassy eyes, glowing under the streetlights. "You can't tell anybody what I'm about to tell you. Okay?"

"Dean, why-"

"Just promise me." He smiles weakly and rubs at his face. "Jo and Charlie and everybody, they know I hang out with Alastair and those guys, but they don't know what I do and they don't know why I do it, and I don't want them to. So please."

Castiel bites his lip, then sighs. "Okay. I promise."

Dean nods and closes his eyes. They're alone on the street at this time of night, but Castiel gently grips Dean's shoulder anyway, to guide him, just in case. "When we got here," Dean says, "Sam immediately ran into trouble with Ruby. He's a cute, innocent kid, y'know, just wants to make friends and kick a ball around, and Ruby's there at the park watching him. She's my age, so it seemed kinda harmless, until her creepy friends start joining her. Azazel was the one who approached him, and I'm on the other side of the field talking to Jo, so I don't know what all was said. I just saw some fucking teenager pushing my brother and laughing at him."

Dean pauses, opening his eyes, and smiles. "So I kick the guy's ass."

Castiel blinks, then laughs. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. I just start wailing on him, and his so-called friends are just watching from the sidelines. Jo's the one who pulled me off and got us to high-tail it out of there." Dean rubs the back of his neck, taking a deep breath. "Alastair approached me a few days later. See, he kind of has his own little enterprise between Astoria, Sileas, and Seaside. Kids come to him so he can buy them booze for their parties. He charges them almost twice what it's worth, but y'know, Mom and Dad are out of town, a kid wants to have a good time. So when he says they can pay it off bit by bit, they say okay." Dean shakes his head. "But they almost always fall behind. And that's where I come in."

"You punish them," Castiel says when Dean falls silent. "It's your job to teach them a lesson about debt."

"Yeah."

"What, he thinks he's Al Capone?"

Dean actually laughs. "I know. I know, it sounds fucking stupid, but it's the truth. And I hate it, I hate hurting someone who just didn't know what they were getting into, but…" And Dean stops walking, his shoulders slumped, all his energy gone. "But that's the deal I made. If I take care of this side of Alastair's business, he and his punks will leave my friends and family alone."

And now it all makes sense. Now, Castiel feels like he can trust Dean again, like he knows who Dean really is deep down. He's seen past the veil that even Jo, Charlie, and Sam can't get around, and he smiles until Dean hesitantly smiles back.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Castiel says, his eyes locked on Dean's. "They recruited you because they're afraid of you."

"Cas, don't." Dean's smile becomes strained. "I've been doing this for a year now. I got kids all up the PCH who are scared to death of me. I get what you're trying to do, but… don't."

"Dean, I just-"

"I know. Really. But I'm not looking for pep talks or anything like that. It is what it is: shitty. And I can't change it now."

Castiel watches him carefully for a moment, taking in the sadness and resignation in those green eyes. "Good things do happen, Dean," he says, and Dean blinks before laughing.

"I know, Cas."

They start walking again, side by side, in a comfortable silence. When they reach the corner, where the boardwalk can be seen from Main Street, they notice the white and brown sheriff's car parked just out of the way. Of course, even as Dean has grabbed Cas's arm and started dragging him across the street, Jody climbs out of the driver's seat and starts to approach them. "Dean Winchester!" she calls as they reach the opposite curb, "You get over here right now, or I swear I will handcuff you and take you back to the Roadhouse to see your Mama!"

Dean groans, makes an exasperated face at Castiel, but turns and heads back to Jody anyway. Unsure of what else to do, Castiel follows. Jody raises an eyebrow when she recognizes him, but quickly returns her attention to Dean.

"Do you want to tell me what the hell you're doing out here at this time of night?" She glances at Castiel again, then jerks a thumb in his direction. "With Cas, no less? Because I doubt his mother knows he's out of the house, let alone out with you."

"Cas was on a date that went haywire," Dean says quickly, and it sounds like a lie even though Castiel knows it's essentially the truth. "We met up and I was gonna take him back to the resort."

"Is that so?" Jody crosses her arms over her chest and gives Dean a once over. "Then you want to tell me how your hands got all busted up?"

And when Dean shoves his hands in his pockets and winces, Castiel realizes that Jody knows. She knows that Dean hangs out with Alastair and his gang, and it's possible she knows something about the rest of it too. But if she knows, then how are they getting away with it?

Because she can't catch them.

"We saw this kid getting ganged up on," Castiel interjects, and Jody turns to him in surprise. "A couple of big guys had him, and Dean stepped in to help."

Dean's jaw drops at this outright lie, but luckily Jody is watching Castiel too intently to notice. "Where did you see this?"

"That vacant lot down the street," Castiel points, and Jody's eyes follow his hand. "The gate was open, and Dean intervened. But there were more than just the two of them, so I got Dean out of there." Castiel swallows, surprised at how easily the lies come. "I was just going to suggest we call you."

Now, Jody finally looks suspicious. Going back over it in his head, Castiel knows it's a terrible lie, but after a few brief seconds of eyeing the boys up, she drops her hands to her hips and nods. "You think they're still there?"

Castiel turns to Dean, who shrugs. "Should be."

Jody nods again and turns back to her car. "Don't go anywhere tomorrow, Dean," she calls over her shoulder. "I might need to ask you a few more questions about this."

"I'll be where I always am," Dean calls back. "Home or the Roadhouse."

"Good boy." And Jody salutes before sliding back into her car, turning it on, and heading on down the road at a crawl, obviously not wanting to draw attention to herself.

Dean grips Castiel's wrist and tugs on it, taking a deep breath. "Dude, that was awesome and all, I really appreciate it, but we've gotta split."

Castiel frowns. "Why?"

"Soon as they notice Jody, they're gonna scatter. And we don't wanna be on the street when they do."

"Oh." Castiel swallows again. "Your place?"

"Sounds good."

And they take off at a run, which becomes a race that Castiel easily wins, though by the time they're barefoot and seated on Dean's couch, watching Zoolander and throwing popcorn at each other, nobody really cares.

July 2nd, 2005

Michael is up when Castiel sneaks in just after dawn. His nice clothes are rumpled and dirty, but his oldest brother just gives him a proud, knowing smile, and turns back to his coffee, allowing Castiel an opportunity to slip into his room. He's too tired to think about it at that moment, but later, after a few hours of dreamless sleep, he realizes what Michael must have thought, and is immediately disgusted.

The situation isn't helped when Bela comes by again that evening around dinner time. Michael, still smiling like he just became leader of the free world, invites her to stay, but she politely refuses, instead asking to speak to Castiel for a moment. That proud look graces Michael's face again, as Castiel follows Bela out to the porch, but Castiel ignores it, shutting the door in his brother's face. "He'll probably be trying to listen in," Castiel warns her. "So maybe we should take a little walk."

Bela nods shortly, and they stay silent until they've put a few yards between themselves and the Milton's bungalow.

"I wanted to apologize for last night," Bela says, glancing at Castiel, then clearing her throat when he gapes at her. "Don't look at me like that, I mean it. I thought you knew what Dean was like, so I didn't think a fight night would bother you."

"I do know what Dean is like," Castiel says with a frown. "Just because you drink with him sometimes doesn't mean you know anything about him."

Bela stops walking, turning to study Castiel. She crosses her arms over her chest, and while Castiel impatiently waits for her response, he takes the chance to appraise her as well. She's dressed down tonight, but still lovely in white Daisy Dukes and a dark green t-shirt that sits invitingly on her curves. Castiel tilts his head, suddenly intent on the contrast between her golden skin and the white denim, and it's only when she snaps her fingers in his face that he realizes she was speaking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

Bela laughs softly and shakes her head. "I said, you're gay, aren't you?"

Castiel blinks, slightly dumbfounded. He was literally just ogling her, and that's what she comes up with? "What?"

"You were happier to see Dean last night then you were to see me." Bela hums in thought before ticking off on her fingers: "You almost ditched me to waste time with Dean doing God-knows-what in the woods. Then you stepped in and let him hit you as you oh-so-nobly tried to save him from himself. Then you actually did ditch me, and Dean followed you off to do whatever it is you two do." Bela pauses, then clicks her tongue. "By the way, the sheriff showed up after you left, but we were already on our way to the boardwalk when we saw her go past, so all she found was that kid."

Castiel frowns, a little disappointed that Alastair and Azazel were able to get away, but at least the boy was able to get some kind of help. He's also a little disturbed that Bela doesn't seem to care about the boy's well-being, but he temporarily sets that aside to deal with her accusation. "I'm not gay."

"Really?" Bela's tone is pandering, as if she doesn't believe him.

"I'm not allowed to have friends I'm really close to?"

"Not when you look at each other the way you and Dean look at each other. Even Ruby noticed, and she was practically blackout drunk."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "I like girls. Okay? You girls and your long hair and your nice curves and your soft lips, all of that. I like that."

"You really know how to win a girl's heart," Bela drawls, putting a hand on her hip. "Whatever, I was just curious. I've given my apology, do you accept it?"

Castiel shrugs. "Might as well."

They should separate here. Bela and her family are staying in one of the resort's suites, in the opposite direction, but she follows him back to the bungalow, and when Castiel turns to tell her good-bye, she cups his face and leans in to press a kiss to his lips. It's gummy and sugary from her lip gloss, but the intent is there, and Castiel's face flames up in surprise and embarrassment. Bela smiles smugly when she pulls back, and taps his nose with a finger before wiggling it at him in farewell. Castiel dumbly waves back, then scrambles back inside before he can humiliate himself further.

But Gabriel's waiting for him with a shit-eating grin, and his other brothers are gathered around the dinner table trying not to laugh. Luke and Michael, actually laughing with each other? Castiel immediately turns to take off for his room, but Gabriel grabs him and drags him back through the living room, all but shoving him into the seat next to Michael.

"Since Bela's taken an interest in you, we thought we'd sit you down to have… a little talk." Michael says carefully, and now he can't keep the grin off his face. Castiel quickly shakes his head.

"Thanks, but I already had the talk." He starts to get up, but Michael throws an arm around his shoulder and holds him down.

"You had the talk with Mom," Gabriel scoffs, taking the seat next to Lucifer. "She didn't tell you the good parts."

Castiel groans and puts his head in his hands. It's gonna be a long night.

July 7th, 2005

From: Dean

8:08pm

long shot bt can u come out 2nite?

Castiel blinks in surprise, and immediately tucks his phone in near his chest. Lucifer is seated on the other side of the couch, with Anna between them, and even though Michael graciously allowed Castiel to have his phone back, it came with the stipulation that Castiel still can't talk to Dean. So of course, that's practically all Castiel has done. When he laughs at his phone, when he clutches it tight, when he spends the whole evening texting, everyone just assumes he's talking to Bela, and Castiel has reveled in their ignorance.

From: Cas

8:10pm

m/b hold on

Anna's watching when Castiel looks up, so he immediately presses his phone to his chest and glares at her. She wrinkles her nose. "I don't want to see your dirty texts to your girlfriend anyway."

Lucifer huffs, and hides a smile behind his hand. He's seemed happier these last few days, and has been almost accommodating to Michael. In fact, when Gabriel suggested they head into Sileas for the annual Independence Day festival, Lucifer had been the one to invite Michael to join them. Michael had just stared at him, confused, before refusing the offer to do some work by the pool. Lucifer hadn't even been offended.

That had actually been a good day, all things considered. They'd passed Dean, Sam, Jo and Sarah outside the ice cream parlor, and when Jo waved at Castiel, he'd been allowed to join them for a few minutes, and even got to introduce them to Gabriel and Anna. Lucifer had stayed away, uninterested, but at least this time he didn't rat Castiel out to Michael.

"She wants to know if I can go out tonight," Castiel says. Lucifer shifts in his seat and shrugs.

"Do you want to go out tonight?"

Castiel thinks about it.

From: Cas

8:13pm

what r we doin?

From: Dean

8:13pm

beach party! its jo's birthday!

Castiel smiles as warmth starts to gather in his chest. Dean has been careful lately, respectful of Castiel's supposed punishment; he probably wouldn't have asked if Jo hadn't suggested having Castiel there. And as much as Castiel adores Dean, as fond as he is of Dean's friends, it's nice to know that Dean's friends like Castiel too.

"Yes," Castiel says softly. "I want to go."

When he looks up, Lucifer is watching him carefully, and for a terrifying moment, Castiel fears he's been found out. But then Lucifer smirks and shakes his head.

"Young love is disgusting." He pokes Anna's thigh with his foot. "Isn't that right, Anna?"

Anna makes a face and shuffles closer to Castiel. "Your feet are disgusting," she shoots back.

Castiel laughs, and it feels good, to be in this small house without all that tension hanging over their heads. "So can I go?"

"I don't care, do what you want," Lucifer says, turning back to his show. Anna leans back into the couch as well, her hands behind her head, and Castiel feels thoroughly dismissed.

From: Cas

8:16pm

on my way

Castiel changes into his running shorts and trainers, and shoves a pair of swim trunks into a tote bag. He waves from the front door, but no one waves back. After a quick stretch, he takes off into town.

It feels good to run at this time of night. There's a chill coming in off the ocean, but as his body warms up, he only notices that the wind feels good on his damp skin. The sun is just starting to set, casting the sky in pinks and oranges, and Sileas is laid out before him, lit up gold. As he turns off Main Street towards the boardwalk, the beach straight ahead, he catches himself smiling at white-capped waves and human silhouettes. There's something so picturesque about this little town, something that warms him up from the inside and makes him feel invincible.

Castiel stops at the flagpole, jogging in place as he tries to figure out where his friends are located. He's still looking when someone grabs him from behind, blocking his vision.

"Guess who!"

Castiel yells, taken by surprise, and twists around only to find Charlie laughing at him. "What's got you all jumpy, Finster?" She says, shoving at his shoulder. Castiel frowns.

"Finster?"

"From Rugrats? Don't tell me you've never seen that either." She looks disappointed already, hands on her hips, hazel eyes wide and expectant, so Castiel clears his throat.

"Okay, I won't tell you."

Charlie rolls her eyes, then reaches for Castiel's wrist, leading him down the stairs. She's wearing a lime green one-piece, with a purple sarong wrapped around her hips. It's a very distracting state of dress, and Castiel tightens his jaw before gently withdrawing himself from her touch and quickening his steps to walk beside her instead of behind her. "There are changing rooms here, right?" He asks, voice cracking. Charlie smiles briefly, but is kind enough not to point it out.

"Yeah, there's a public restroom right up there." She points up ahead, then turns to Castiel. "We're just beyond there if you want to change and meet up with us." She lowers her eyelashes and leans in close to him, until his cheeks turn pink. "Though I'm sure no one would object if you wanted to change at the party."

Castiel lets out a high-pitched giggle, ducking away from her and clutching the strings of his tote like a lifeline. "I think Dean might object," he tries to joke, but his voice cracks again, and this time Charlie laughs.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Spock." But she relents, saluting him before taking off down the sand, and Castiel retreats to the restroom. He quickly changes into his swim trunks, then takes a few moments to collect himself. This will be the first time in weeks that he's spent time with everyone; he doesn't want to ruin it by being a creep.

Which is what makes it so funny when he finally finds the campfire, and both Jo and Pam stop in their tracks, mouths open, eyes firmly affixed on Castiel's bare chest. He feels himself blushing again, and immediately reaches for his tote bag, to pull his shirt back on, but a giggling Charlie reaches over to take it from him, tossing it to Dean, who sits on it with a Cheshire-grin.

"You ladies like this so much," Dean says, his voice colored with laughter, "you should see him all fancied up."

"Well, now I know what it means to get the vapors," Jo says, fanning herself. Pamela throws her hands in the air, wiggling her fingers towards the sky, gesture so reminiscent of the more over-exuberant attendees at Uncle Zach's sermons that Castiel has to laugh.

"Have I mentioned my school has a uniform?" he offers, sidling up to Jo and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Do you have to wear a tie?"

"Yes."

"Woof." Her blue eyes are alight with glee when Castiel kisses her cheek and makes her squeal. And this time, Dean seems to be enjoying the attention Castiel's getting, which makes the whole thing more fun. Still, Castiel finds himself taking a seat next to Dean when Garth and Ash arrive and bogart Jo's attention.

"How old is she now?" Castiel whispers, leaning into Dean's space.

"Fourteen."

"Shit." Castiel shakes his head. "Too young for me."

Dean barks out a laugh, which makes Pam turn to them with a raised eyebrow, so he leans in and keeps his voice down when he responds, "What, she's not woman enough for you?"

"I like flowers that have already blossomed, thanks," which just makes Dean laugh again.

"Don't let her hear you say that," he says, wiping his eyes. Charlie slides into the space between them, informing them that it's rude to whisper. Dean looks like he has a good response, but before he can speak, Castiel's phone goes off. He has a split-second heart attack, terrified that he's been discovered, but the number is unfamiliar. His brothers would use their own phones to try and intimidate him, so Castiel raises his eyebrows at Dean's curious expression and answers the phone.

"Hello?"

"Cas! Darling, it's Bela." Castiel bites his lower lip and sighs. "I got your number from your brother, I hope that's all right."

"Sure, it's just peachy," Castiel mutters. Dean shoves him and points dramatically at the phone, so Castiel mouths Bela's name. Dean cringes and shakes his head. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I happened to hear through the grapevine that apparently you and I are dating now, which I guess makes sense because I've been using your name to sneak out and meet up with Lilith and Ruby, so I'd assume you're doing the same with Dean."

"I happen to be out with Dean and a few other people right now," Castiel says quickly, "so unless you've got-"

"Oh, what are you doing?" She sounds excited, and Castiel glances at Dean, who's still frowning.

"Just, um… hanging out."

"Can I join you?" There's a rustling noise on the other end of the line, just before Bela sighs. "I mean, I adore Lilith and Ruby, but a girl's got to have more to do on any given day than sit at the park and paint her nails. Besides, if we're going to keep using each other as alibis, we might want to actually hang out every now and then, don't you agree?"

"Well," Castiel draws the word out, conflicted. Dean is glaring at him, but Charlie seems more annoyed at Dean's annoyance. Jo is busy fawning over whatever technological device Ash has given her, and Garth and Pam are situated by Jo's small stereo, flipping through CDs. It would be rude to invite Bela to such a personal gathering, wouldn't it? Especially when only Dean and Castiel know her, and Dean doesn't even really like her. "I don't know, it's my friend's birthday-"

"It's Dean's birthday?"

Castiel scowls. "I have friends besides Dean, Bela." Charlie snorts at that, and Dean just barely manages to keep himself from grinning.

"You wouldn't know it from the way you talk about him," Bela responds, and he can hear the smile in her voice as well. Castiel rolls his eyes.

"If you keep your inane theories to yourself and play nice, maybe I'll ask the birthday girl if you can join us."

All the joy in Dean's face immediately falls, but Jo lifts her head up, beaming. "What about the birthday girl?"

Castiel hesitates, listening to Bela's soft breathing on the line. "My, um…" He struggles to find the right word, "my friend Bela wants to know if she can join us?"

Dean is shaking his head, but Jo looks delighted. "Sure she can! The more the merrier, right? Besides," she shrugs, "we girls are outnumbered tonight. One more would even it out perfectly."

"Did you hear all that?" Castiel says into the phone, turning away from Dean's obvious frustration.

"Yes, thank you," Bela answers. "Should I bring some rum or gin for the birthday girl? I have some to spare."

"That won't be necessary," and if Castiel's tone is a little colder than need be, he doesn't care. "These guys aren't like your usual crew."

"You mean they're boring."

"You're the one who wanted to come."

Bela sighs dramatically, the sound crackling in Castiel's ears. "Okay, I'll play nice. Where are you, exactly?"

Castiel describes their surroundings, mentions the fact that Jo, Ash, and Pam are building a bonfire, and hangs up after Bela promises to be there in fifteen.

"Y'know," Charlie pipes up, as soon as Castiel has tucked his phone into his tote bag, "if you'd told us you had a girlfriend, we probably wouldn't have been so hard on you."

"What?" Because everything about that sentence is confusing. "Bela's not my girlfriend."

Charlie looks skeptical, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. "Riiiight. And Buffy Summers is just your average teenage girl."

Castiel rolls his eyes, ready to tell Charlie not to speak in references he doesn't understand, but Dean reaches out and grips his shoulder, green eyes wide.

"Can I talk to Cas for a minute? Alone?"

Castiel meets Charlie's eyes, and while she looks pensive, she shrugs and gets up, stumbling across the sand to join Pam and Garth. Dean jerks his head towards the ocean, and they both stand up, making their way towards the wet sand, leaving deep footprints in their wake.

"I'm sorry about Bela," Cas offers as soon as they're out of earshot. Dean glances at him, one eyebrow raised. "I'm kind of… we're not really… but…" Castiel makes a frustrated noise and drops to sit in the sand, not caring if the waves come up to his thighs. "It's complicated."

Dean hesitates, then chuckles to himself. "She's hot. I get that. She's a bitch and you have nothing in common except your trust funds, but hey, she's hot, so why not hit it and quit it?"

Castiel frowns, staring out at the horizon as Dean takes a seat next to him. The ocean rumbles softly, the water going in and out, swallowing their legs, then rushing back, leaving sand and debris behind. "Do you really think of me like that?" Castiel manages to say, the words sour on his tongue. "That I just want to sleep with a girl for the sake of it, and any girl will do?" He turns to look at Dean, who shrugs.

"I think anybody could be like that. And it's not like Bela wouldn't let you."

"You're not like that," Castiel offers, ignoring the last part of Dean's argument.

Dean raises his eyebrows, and in the last light of the setting sun, Castiel can see the way Dean's cheeks change color, as he clears his throat and turns away. "How do you know I'm not?"

"Charlie said you're still a virgin."

Dean rolls his eyes. "That again? There are lots of things Charlie doesn't know about me. You know that."

"You would've told me by now if you weren't," Castiel points out. "Besides, it's not like you're lacking in options."

"What?" Dean eyes Castiel, his brow furrowed. "What 'options?'"

Castiel sighs. "I don't think Charlie, Jo, or Pam would take much persuading. Especially Pam." He means to elaborate, to point out that girls usually aren't so close with boys, to reassure Dean that he has no interest in any of them, but Dean puts a hand over his mouth before he can. The smell of saltwater invades Castiel's nose, and specks of sand transfer from Dean's fingers to Castiel's lips. Something about that thought triggers a bullet of heat from Castiel's chest to his groin, where it sits and simmers, waiting.

Castiel deliberately decides not to focus on it.

"Jo is just a kid," Dean is saying, and for some reason he doesn't look angry or annoyed - he looks horrified, as if Castiel had suggested something far more vile than dating his closest friends. "She and Charlie are like sisters to me, I could never… and while you're probably not wrong about Pam, I would never just use her like that. She deserves better."

An alarm trips in Castiel's head, but he can't quite figure out why he's suddenly so concerned. Maybe it's the look on Dean's face, the wide eyes and struggling words, or Dean's tight grip on Castiel's face. Something is wrong, and Castiel gingerly wraps his fingers around Dean's wrist and guides his hand away from his mouth. They sit in silence for a moment, breathing in the heady air.

"Isn't that what I said, though," Castiel says quietly, his eyes on Dean's. "That you're not like that?"

Dean closes his mouth, and turns his head away. Castiel studies him for a moment more, takes in the new shadows and colors on his face, then follows his gaze. The bonfire is roaring now, and Castiel can hear music, soft and tinny. The other kids are dancing, like witches of old, black silhouettes against the flames, while Dean and Castiel sit in the wet sand, letting the waves climb higher as the moon rises in the sky.

"Is there a girl you like, Dean?" Castiel asks, and the question surprises him as much as it surprises Dean, who turns back to him with a gasp.

"No one you know," Dean replies sharply, tightening his jaw. But Castiel just stares at him, waiting, until Dean sighs and lets the tension flow out of his shoulders. "Fine. She was in my chemistry class last year. Her name's Lisa."

When he doesn't continue, Castiel twists to face him, then scoots in closer and rests his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. "Well, go on."

Dean blinks at him, then laughs. "You're fucking ridiculous," he says fondly, as he mirrors Castiel's position. "Okay, okay. She's just… kinda perfect, y'know? Absolutely gorgeous, and like I couldn't tell you what color her eyes are or any of that romantic crap… but she's got a smile that could light up a room." And now Dean's smiling, even as he runs a hand over his mouth, and Castiel smiles too.

"So what's the problem?"

Dean drops his hand and sighs. "She's a cheerleader."

Castiel blinks. "So?"

"'So?'" Dean makes a frustrated noise, kicking at Castiel's shins. "So, she's way out of my league. She hangs out with this football dude Victor and his friends all the time, and they run the student council and have their own table in the cafeteria and, y'know, then there's me." Dean shrugs, frowning. "I draw Batman and read Tolkien and quote Star Wars and hang out with nerds. Because I'm a nerd." He runs a hand through his hair, leaving sand behind as he turns back to the ocean. "And that's not even mentioning the rest of what you already know."

Alastair. And the booze and the beatings and Dean's secretly noble heart, so secret that even Dean doesn't seem to understand his own choices. Warmth swells in Castiel's chest as he studies his friend, as he reaches over and puts a hand on Dean's knee. "I thought we already decided that you're hot."

Dean stares at Castiel's hand, before lifting his gaze to Castiel's eyes. He laughs softly, smirking. "You forgot to say 'no homo,' dude."

"That's implied now."

"No it's not."

"Don't be a dick." And Dean's laughing louder now, shaking his head. "'No homo', you're a fucking male model. The nerd stuff doesn't matter, as long as you're good-looking, and you know how to treat a lady. Which, considering how many female friends you have, you do."

Dean sighs, looking away. The sun has fully set now, casting Dean's face in gray and silver tones, and Castiel remembers that first night they met, just over a month ago. Before Castiel knew just how colorful Dean could be. When Dean had been just a boy with potential, and Castiel a stranger without direction. And it's so strange, because whatever draws Castiel to Dean, whatever that warmth is, it feels like it's been there forever, just waiting for the right person to unlock it.

"Ask her out," Castiel says with a nod. "She's not out of your league, you're just making excuses. If she says no, that's her problem, not yours."

Dean chuckles softly, though he still looks hesitant. At least he's in high enough spirits to tease: "Well, if you're willing to come down and play in the mud with me, maybe it's not such a stretch to think Lisa will."

"Oh no," Castiel says solemnly, "don't get confused. I'm totally out of your league."

Dean rolls his eyes. While the tide's in, he takes an opportunity to splash water at Castiel's face. Castiel sputters and wipes salt water from his eyes before lunging at Dean.

They end up wrestling in the sand, laughing and struggling as they roll over, as the waves cover them with cold spray. Dean laughs so hard he chokes, only to take advantage of Castiel's concern and pin him by his wrists with a crow of victory. Castiel continues to put up a fight, but it's half-hearted; he's giggling too much, and ends up flailing his legs about, trying to kick Dean, but really just looking like a fool.

There comes a moment, as their laughter dies down and the tide draws out, where Dean's gaze softens and that shot of heat that Castiel had ignored earlier starts to bloom again, his heart skipping a beat. Dean shifts slightly, and Castiel has two thoughts at once.

One, that at this distance he can see the shade of Dean's eyes even in the dark.

And two, that Dean might kiss him again. For real, this time. And now, with Bela's kiss to compare it too, Castiel doesn't find the idea so appalling. In fact, it's downright appealing.

And as the seconds draw out, Castiel starts to confuse the warmth in his chest and the heat in his belly, both now feelings he associates with Dean, and he wonders if they're different or the same. Dean blinks slowly, and his eyelashes are long, and his freckles are numerous, and Castiel parts his lips without thinking about it.

Then, the long moment is over, and the opportunity is gone. With a high-pitched battle cry, Jo appears, and tackles Dean back to the dirt, leaving Castiel free to sit up and start shaking the sand from his hair. Dean roughly, easily, tosses Jo aside, but she's giggling about it even as he scowls at her.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean snaps, and Jo rolls her eyes, reaching out a hand to help Dean get to his feet.

"I thought I'd come rescue Cas," she says, brushing dirt from her shoulders. "It looked like you were about to drop a loogey on him, and I know from experience how much those suck."

"I'd never," Dean protests, looking genuinely offended as Castiel hops to his feet and joins them.

"Liar," Castiel accuses, smirking when Dean glares at him. "You're a big brother. You've got the whole bully arsenal, and you're going to use it whenever you get the chance."

"Not with you," and Dean sounds sincere enough that Castiel has to take a deep breath. Whatever that moment was, it was just a moment. Nothing happened, and nothing will happen. It was an accident built on confused hormones, and Castiel forces himself to smile when Jo slaps Dean's shoulder.

"What makes Cas so special?" she demands. Dean glances at Castiel, then plasters a smile on his face.

"Cas has three big brothers already, so I figure he's got enough shit to worry about. You, however," and Dean pulls Jo in, tucking her under his arm and rubbing his knuckles against her head as she yells. "You've only got me."

Castiel chuckles as he reaches over to free Jo, who wraps her arms around him and sticks her tongue out at Dean. "Bela just got here," she says, squeezing Castiel's ribcage. "But she said I could dance with you if I wanted, since it's my birthday."

Dean rolls his eyes, turning to head back towards the bonfire, where there is indeed an extra silhouette, apparently chatting with someone. Castiel briefly worries that Bela could be spilling all of Dean's secrets, but a part of him doubts she would be so catty. She had sought Castiel out to apologize, after all, and her own secrets are wrapped up with Dean's. Maybe she's not all that unlike Dean, putting up a facade in front of certain people, just to make it through the day.

So Castiel squeezes Jo back and says, "Well, if Bela says it's okay, I guess I can make it through one dance."

They dance like heathens to cheesy eighties pop. Dean groans at the start of every track, but always scoops up whoever happens to be nearest and starts enthusiastically moving to the beat. Sometimes his partner is Jo and sometimes it's Pam. Once it's Garth, and at least three times he manages to get Castiel to move with him, though Castiel prefers to sit with Charlie, discussing their theories for the new Harry Potter book coming out in a few days. Eventually, Bela joins the conversation, and even manages to keep up, much to Castiel's surprise. In fact, both girls get involved in a heated debate about houses and sorting, which Castiel, an avowed Ravenclaw, wisely decides to stay out of.

Bela pauses in her defense of Slytherin house and smirks when Dean tugs on Castiel's arm, dragging him across the sand to force him to dance one more time. Castiel flips her off, even as he's trying to keep up with Dean. He's pretty sure she returned the gesture, but he can't be certain, because Dean is twirling him around, and there's heat and smoke and laughter, and who cares about Bela as long as she's behaving herself?

Jody stops by around 3 A.M., and has to break up the party. Apparently they've been a little too loud for the sleepy patrons at Best Western. Still, she helps them put out the fire and even has a bag of Sour Patch Kids, just for Jo.

Bela taps Castiel on the shoulder as he's rooting through his bag to find his t-shirt. "How did you get here?" she asks.

"Ran," Castiel answers, tugging his shirt on. "Why?"

"Want a ride?" she offers. "I just called my driver. It'll look good for both of us."

Castiel blinks at her, then turns. He catches Dean's eyes, from where Dean is helping Pam and Garth dismantle the stereo, to carry to Jody's car. Castiel gestures at Bela, then waves good-bye. Dean raises his eyebrows, then frowns, and doesn't wave back before lifting a speaker and stumbling towards the boardwalk.

"Ouch," Bela says with a smirk. "Poor neglected boyfriend."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Please, no commentary from the peanut gallery. Let's just go."

When they're seated in the car, Castiel pulls out his phone and sends a text to Dean.

From: Cas

3:26am

wanna hang out 2mrw?

Bela is smirking again when Castiel looks up. "You're gay," she says in a singsong, and Castiel shoves her gently, making her giggle.

"You're gay," he shoots back. Bela bristles.

"Am not!"

Their phones beep at the same time. Castiel squints at Bela before flipping his phone open.

From: Dean

3:27am

if u can get away

From: Dean

3:27am

& no bela

Castiel smiles to himself, shaking his head.

From: Cas

3:28am

ok c ya ltr

When he looks up, Bela is actually smiling as she taps the buttons on her own phone. Curious, Castiel leans over, and manages to catch the name before she pulls away and frowns at him.

"You got Charlie's number?" Castiel asks incredulously. Then, he grins. "You're super gay."

"Not as gay as you," Bela mumbles, turning her attention back to her phone. And yet, a few seconds later, she shifts and rests her head on Castiel's shoulder. It's a much less calculated move than some of her other attempts to touch him. It's downright familiar, as she relaxes against his side with a little sigh, still focused on the tiny screen in front of her.

And again, Castiel wonders if maybe Bela isn't who he thought she was.

July 15th, 2005

When Castiel arrives back at the bungalow, it's already getting dark. He'd run all the way from the park by the elementary school, knowing there was no way he would make it home before Michael, but hoping that the sweat and shortness of breath would help with his alibi.

His plan is to tell Michael that he'd spent the day with Bela, then gone out for a run before dinner. The truth is, he spent his time laying on the grass with Dean, Charlie and Jo, watching Sam teach Sarah how to kick a ball around. She'd picked it up surprisingly fast, and by mid-afternoon, the group of them were playing HORSE, girls versus boys. It had been fun, relaxing, even if Dean was overly competitive and liked to attempt to sabotage Jo and Charlie during their turns.

Castiel smiles and hums a little as he opens the door and starts to pull off his trainers. He'd run into town this morning too, so he's even dressed properly. Late as he is, the most he'll probably hear is a reprimand.

Still humming, he glances up and grins at Anna, stationed on the couch. "Who are you watching now?" he asks, laughing when she jumps and turns to him, her red hair fanning out in a halo around her head.

"Castiel," she begins, her eyes wide, and Castiel's grin starts to fade.

"What's wrong?" He asks, surprised by the lack of emotion on her face. "Is everything alright?"

She glances behind her, back towards the dining room. Castiel follows her gaze, and is surprised when he realizes the lights are off. No one has prepared dinner yet. Anna turns back to him, her lower lip between her teeth.

"Lucifer's gone. They can't find him."

Castiel's breath catches in his throat. "What?"

Anna shrugs, attempting to seem casual, but the way her fingers are trembling speaks far more clearly of her current state of mind. "You know how Lucifer likes to sleep in? Well, Gabe went to go wake him up this morning, and his room was empty. His clothes and suitcases and everything was gone." She swallows, eyes darting back to the floor, the television, the door behind Castiel. "Michael came home early to try and find him. Gabe covered for you!" she adds quickly, at the look on Castiel's face. "But they still haven't found Luke." Her eyes drop to her hands, and she sighs softly. "I'm supposed to tell you to order a pizza and wait here until they get back."

Castiel takes a moment to compose himself, worry for his brother warring with the need to take care of his sister. There's a hundred things running through his head, at a thousand miles a minute, but he closes his eyes and takes a breath, setting them all aside. He gently ruffles Anna's apple-colored hair as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number for the pizza place back in town.

When Mary's the one who answers the phone, Castiel instantly feels a surge of warmth and comfort. She sounds genuinely overjoyed to hear from him, apologizing that she hasn't been around the house, and gives him a discount on his order even as he protests that he can afford it. He takes a seat next to Anna as he hangs up the phone, smiling to himself, and only stops when he notices Anna staring at him. "What?"

"How much pizza do you have when you're gone all day?" she asks, studying him with suspicious blue eyes. "That sounded like a phone call to a close personal friend."

Castiel hesitates, then decides that even if Anna isn't necessarily trustworthy, she won't purposely sell him out to Michael. "She's my friend Dean's mother."

"That boy you introduced me to on the Fourth of July?" Anna sounds genuinely confused, almost spitting the words as she tries to suss out what Castiel is telling her. "His mother works at a pizza parlor? How did you even meet someone whose mother works at a pizza parlor?"

Castiel shrugs and leans back into the couch. He still reeks of sweat, but figures it'd be better to save the shower until after the pizza is delivered, if only to torment Anna. "We met, we liked each other, we had things in common, we became friends," he answers flatly. Anna scowls and shoves his shoulder in a burst of irritation, but settles down almost instantly, relaxing back into the couch with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You stink," she says, wrinkling her nose.

Castiel chuckles under his breath. "You'd like Dean," he offers as a truce, just before pulling her into a sweaty hug that leaves her screeching. As long as she laughs in the end, he can pretend everything will be okay.

They're halfway through the first pizza and watching Will & Grace reruns when Gabe clambers through the door. Anna freezes, almost dropping her pizza slice back onto the plate. Castiel just watches as Gabe carefully pulls off his shoes. His socks. His jacket. Once the silence becomes ringing and unbearable, Castiel asks, "Where's Michael?"

Gabe's mouth tightens. "Still in the car." He looks up, and the concern on his siblings' faces must be clear, because he attempts to smile. "You save anything for us?"

Castiel's head is spinning, trying to figure out what this all means. "Gabriel," he says sharply, "what about Lucifer?"

Gabe's tiny smile falls. He takes a deep breath, heading over and setting a pizza box aside so he can sit on the coffee table, facing his siblings. "Mom pulled some strings and we got a hit on his phone, but it was stagnant. When we looked up the location, and it was a rest stop between here and Portland, so he probably dumped it." Gabe runs a hand over his eyes, and Anna shifts until her side is pressed up against Castiel's. He takes pity on his sister and wraps an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close. "He hasn't touched any of his credit cards, and somehow he managed to drain his savings account, so…" Gabe drops his hand and shrugs. "We've called the cops, Mom's coming in tonight, and that's about all we can do."

Anna is shaking, sniffling, and Castiel takes a shuddering breath. "So. He didn't even leave a note?"

"Nope. Nothing. Mike thinks there might be something to all the times Luke threatened to go to San Francisco, but we don't know for sure." Gabe closes his eyes, then takes Anna's hands in his own. "Annie, please don't cry. We're gonna be fine."

Seeing the tears on his sister's face breaks something in Castiel. A wall crumbles down, and suddenly he's overwhelmed with anger and fear for his brother. Sure, Lucifer could be an arrogant bag of dicks, but he did help Castiel settle in to high school. And when they were younger, before their parents were gone all the time, Lucifer had been gentle and playful. Playing tag in the grass with his little brother, teaching little Anna how to sing, how much of Lucifer had imprinted on them, to turn them into the people they are today?

Now he's just disappeared. Without a word or warning. He might as well be dead, for all they know.

And the tears start to fall. Castiel fights them, puts a hand over his face to hide them, but then Anna starts to cry outright, and Gabe pulls them both in, holding them as they cling to him.

It's only when Castiel pulls himself away, leaving Anna to bogart Gabe's comfort, that he notices Michael, standing next to the couch, watching his siblings with red-rimmed eyes. Emotions war in Castiel's chest: it's Michael's fault, entirely Michael's fault that Lucifer left, but maybe Michael knows that already. Maybe he's already beating himself up over it. Maybe it's not Castiel's place to do so.

But there's still so much anger. At Lucifer, for abandoning them, and now at Michael, for driving him to do so. And the more Castiel thinks about it, the angrier he becomes. Because maybe if Mother and Father had been around more, Michael wouldn't have had to become their de facto father, and would've have driven him to argue with Lucifer like he did. Maybe if Gabriel didn't harass Lucifer with his pranks. Maybe if Anna didn't play her music so loud.

Maybe if Castiel hadn't been so distracted by his new friends, he would've seen the signs and tried to talk Lucifer out of leaving. He had always feared that someday, their family would break, and now that day has come, and Castiel doesn't know where to place the blame.

Castiel has retreated so far inside his mind that he only notices Michael has moved when a pair of strong arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into an embrace that he's not even sure he wants to return. But Michael is whispering, "I'm sorry," so softly that Castiel's not even sure if he's supposed to hear it. And Castiel is suddenly reminded that Michael is less than six years older than he is. Hardly old enough to handle this on his own.

Maybe they're all just trying to figure out who to blame. Maybe Michael can't think of anyone but himself.

It feels like a long time before they start to compose themselves. Before Gabe picks a sleeping Anna up and carries her to her room, while Michael collects the pizza to reheat in the microwave, because he and Gabe haven't eaten all day. Castiel sits for a moment longer, then heads to his own tiny room, locking the door behind him and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

From: Cas

10:32pm

my brother ran away

It's only a few seconds before he gets a response.

From: Dean

10:32pm

?! which 1? r u ok?

And before Castiel can even start typing out a response, his phone is buzzing in his hand, the little screen flashing white before bringing up Dean's name. Castiel raises his eyebrows, surprised, as he answers.

"Hello, Dean."

"Okay, tell me what the hell 'ran away' means. He literally ran away?"

"Yes. Lucifer, he was with us on Independence Day. He took off this morning and we don't know where he is."

"Shit," Dean whispers. "I'm sorry. Are you doin' okay?"

Castiel hesitates, his voice catching in his throat. And suddenly, words are slipping out, and tears, all out of his own control. He rants and he sobs and he curses and Dean just listens. And when the words stop and Castiel's throat and eyes are dry and painful, he worries that this was too much, that Dean hung up on him, because what an embarrassment he is, dropping all of this on his friend's shoulders. "Dean?" He says hoarsely. "Are you still there?"

"Always," Dean says softly. "Feel better?"

And surprisingly, Castiel does.

July 17th, 2005

It's been quiet around the bungalow for the last couple of days. Michael has moved into Gabriel's room, to give their mother a place to sleep, but Castiel's pretty sure she hasn't been doing much sleeping. She and Michael still spend most of the day on the phone or a laptop, working, but they're both dressed down, and sometimes Naomi takes her phone calls outside, and no one sees her for an hour or two.

Castiel doesn't believe these are actually phone calls.

Bela and her parents stopped by yesterday with a fruit basket and condolences, and Bela stays for an hour or so, having brought her brand new copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Castiel had completely forgotten. He probably had his own copy waiting at the front desk, but he couldn't bring himself to go pick it up. Bela quickly got frustrated, not wanting to spoil the story for him, and ended up calling Charlie on her way out the door.

Naomi had picked up the mail after dinner today, and dropped Castiel's copy of the book on his bed. She'd lingered there for a moment, but when Castiel finally met her eyes, she had only sighed and made him promise to give the book to Anna as soon as he was done.

No one has spoken Lucifer's name in two days. The only thing that makes Castiel even try to start reading is the desperate need to escape this suffocating silence.

It's late, now. His family must be in bed, but Castiel is still reading, drowning himself in magic and owls and characters that will never leave him, that will always be there, on these pages. His phone buzzes next to him, drawing him out, and he blinks, confused, before picking it up.

From: Dean

11:47pm

ur in house 5 rite?

Castiel frowns down at his phone, reading the words a few times before he realizes that Dean is asking about the bungalow.

From: Cas

11:48pm

ya, y?

From: Dean

11:48

u have ur own room?

What the hell is this all about? Castiel contemplates just calling Dean to save time, but decides against it.

From: Cas

11:49pm

ya, y?

From: Dean

11:49pm

is ur lite on?

And Castiel gets it. He's not entirely sure why Dean would do this, but he still slips out of bed and peeks through the curtain. Dean is right outside, a tote bag over his shoulder, and he has the audacity to grin and wave when he notices Castiel. Caught, Castiel rolls his eyes and pulls the curtains back, opening the window.

"What the hell are you doing?" he whispers, frowning.

Dean pouts. "You're not going to let me in?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea. And you're lucky security didn't see you!"

"Dude." Now it's Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "Just let me in. I have Half-Blood Prince, I thought we could read it together."

"Why?"

"Cas!" All the humor, sarcastic or not, is gone from Dean's eyes. He's almost pleading when he says, "I just wanted to see you. I was worried."

Again, Castiel wants to ask him why, and even leans towards telling him to leave. He doesn't need Dean's worry, or his pity. He just wants to escape into his book for a little while longer. But it's as he's reaching up to close the window that he realizes, that's exactly what Dean had offered. He just didn't want Castiel to do it alone.

"What chapter are you on?" Castiel asks, squinting at Dean in the dark.

Dean shrugs. "I finished it this morning, so wherever you're at is fine."

Castiel raises his eyebrows, surprised. "Oh. Well." Then this little adventure is truly all about Castiel. About Dean wanting to check on his friend and keep him company during a dark time in his life. And Castiel is truly touched. "Meet me at the front door."

Quietly, carefully, he sneaks Dean through the dark house and into his room. Once the door is locked, Castiel hesitates. In the silence, pink blossoms on Dean's cheeks, and he stares at the floor, shuffling his feet. Castiel catches himself wondering about kissing Dean again, and he quickly squashes it down. That one time had been an accident, and neither he nor Dean is even gay, so why bother thinking about it? When they wrestled on the beach, that had been the result of confused hormones, of body heat and moonlight. That's all. Now, they're not even touching, and yes, Dean's blush brings out his freckles even in the dim light, but that's no reason to want to kiss him.

Castiel takes a breath. "Sorry my room's so small," he says quietly. Dean huffs, smiling.

"Only so much room in these places, I guess."

They stand awkwardly for another moment before Dean makes himself at home, crawling onto Castiel's bed and digging in his tote bag. He reverently lays out his copy of Half-Blood Prince, then pulls out his sketchbook and a few pencils. This is what draws Castiel over, watching curiously as Dean flips through his sketchbook to find a blank page. "You're going to draw?"

"Yeah." Dean grins at him. "You can keep reading if you want."

Dean sprawls out on his stomach as Castiel blinks, confused. "I thought we were going to read together."

"Read out loud," Dean offers, dragging his pencil over paper. "You've got a good voice."

Heat crawls up Castiel's face, but he opens the book, hiding behind it. He can still hear the little sounds of Dean's pencil moving across the paper, creating some new vision, bringing to life whatever it is that lives in Dean's head. Castiel takes a breath, peering over the top of his book, but Dean is focused on his drawing, and doesn't seem to realize how flustered Castiel is.

Good.

Castiel clears his throat, searching for where he'd left off.

"'Harry did not answer. The thought of that little golden bottle had hovered on the edges of his imagination for some time; vague and unformulated plans that involved Ginny breaking up with Dean-'" Dean laughs slightly, and grins when Castiel frowns at him.

"Sorry I share a name with a fictional character, how would you feel if it was you?" Castiel furrows his brow, and Dean laughs again. "Never mind. Guess that's not something you have to worry about."

Castiel hesitates before closing the book, settling it in his lap as he leans closer to Dean. "My father writes novels for a living, Dean."

Dean meets his gaze, confused but unyielding. "I know. He never named anybody after you, though."

"No." Castiel shrugs. "But Kyriel is based on me."

Dean studies Castiel's face, then concentrates on the wall behind Castiel's head, obviously attempting to gather his thoughts. His eyes flicker, and Castiel can almost see the pages turning in Dean's head, as he goes back through the story and tries to figure out what Castiel means. He does see when the light goes on, and Dean's eyes dart back to his own.

"Oh," Dean says, "that makes so much sense."

Castiel tilts his head. "You think so?"

"You don't?" Dean laughs, propping himself up on his elbows. "Don't make that face," he adds when Castiel squints. "I mean… Ky is exactly like you - on the surface. He's awkward and serious and doesn't know shit about what's good." Dean winks, and heat floods Castiel's cheeks. "Ky's missing some of the best parts of you, but that's okay. He's an angel. Totally different species."

Castiel isn't even sure where to begin with that. He had recognized the differences between himself and Kyriel, but it was surprising to learn that Dean could see them so clearly too. Though, what does he mean, 'best parts?' Castiel is dying to know what Dean thinks his 'best parts' are, but it seems rude to ask. He realizes that he's clutched Half-Blood Prince to his chest, and loosens his grip, embarrassed. Dean doesn't seem to have noticed; he's turned back to his sketchbook, dark lines creating circles and squares, the outline of another masterpiece.

They stay silent for a few more moments, Castiel's mind racing. Once he's managed to get over the idea that there are parts of him that are best, he starts to wonder about Dean's thoughtfulness, coming here to keep him company and cheer him up. It's not just his head that's whirling either - his chest and stomach feel like they're on a rollercoaster, swooping up and down around hairpin turns, but instead of feeling nauseous, Castiel just feels… almost giddy.

It's then he realizes he's smiling. For the first time since Gabe and Michael came home empty-handed, Castiel is smiling. It's just a soft upturn of lips, but then Dean glances up and responds with a toothy grin of his own, and Castiel's smile widens.

"Thank you," Castiel says quietly. Dean shrugs awkwardly, quickly turning back to his drawing.

"Don't mention it," he mumbles. "Keep reading."

Castiel pauses long enough to take a deep breath, then shifts until he's leaning against the wall, legs spread out across the bed, as close to Dean as he feels he can be without ruining Dean's concentration. Then he opens the book and, in a soft voice, continues to read.

They wake up with Dean's head pillowed in Castiel's lap, but neither has the time to think about it, because Michael and Naomi are awake and wandering around the house. They quickly gather Dean's things, and Castiel goes to help him clamber out his bedroom window. Dean steals a tight hug, and smiles at Castiel once more before he drops to the grass and takes off across the lawn.

Thirty seconds later, Michael and Naomi leave the bungalow for work.

Castiel spends the rest of the day in a stupor, stunned by their good luck.

July 18th, 2005

Castiel wanders around the resort most of the afternoon. On a whim, he steals a wooden crate from behind the kitchens, and carefully places it in the hollow space under the bungalow's front porch.

Later, after sunset, when Dean taps on his window, Castiel points him towards the crate. Now, Dean can climb in and out of Castiel's tiny window, making it less risky for him to visit.

They spend that evening excitedly discussing Half-Blood Prince, which Castiel had finished earlier that day, which fades into yet another argument about houses and sorting. Eventually, they fall asleep curled towards each other on the bed, with Dean's sketch of a Ravenclaw Keeper on the bed between them.

July 19th, 2005

Long after Dean had hugged him goodbye and shuffled out the window, Castiel finds the drawing still on his bed. His first thought is to set it aside, return it to Dean later, but when he flips the paper over, there's something scrawled on the back:

"For Cas

see you on the quidditch pitch"

Warmth reappears in Castiel's chest, and he smiles.

But when he starts to think about it, to think about why a simple drawing from a sweet boy makes him feel this way, he's too terrified to stay on that train of thought. Instead, he abruptly switches gears and thinks of Lucifer. It's depressing and makes him angry, but at least he knows what those emotions are, and how to handle them.

Still. When Dean knocks on his window that night, tells him, "I'm Dean Winchester and I'm here to rescue you," before displaying DVDs of the original Star Wars trilogy, Castiel still smiles and lets him in.

He keeps smiling as Dean takes over his room, setting up a tiny portable DVD player to watch the movies on.

He smiles as they roughhouse, elbowing and shoving one another in an attempt to better share the screen.

And when Dean offers a new idea, one where he crawls behind Castiel and pulls him into his lap, resting his chin on Castiel's shoulder, Castiel's smile turns soft. Because Dean is warm and Castiel has never felt safe or cared for like this. It's terrifying. But Castiel wouldn't give it up for the world.

July 20th, 2005

Castiel wakes up slowly, registering everything piece by piece. The pale sunlight peeking through his curtains. The DVD player digging into his ribs. A comforting arm around his waist. Warm breath on the back of his neck-

Castiel sits up straight, accidentally knocking his elbow into Dean's chest. Dean jerks awake with a pained shout, and as a result of their awkward flailing, attempting to untangle themselves, Castiel gets knocked off the bed, landing on the floor with a dull thump.

They stare at each other for a long moment. Then, giggles start to bubble helplessly out of Dean's mouth. And once Dean gets going, Castiel can't stop himself from joining in. It's half amusement at their idiocy, and half relief that they're not going to dwell on how close they were when they woke up. Castiel just isn't ready to face that, and it's a little comforting to know that Dean is willing to ignore it too.

They both freeze when someone knocks on Castiel's door. It takes a second before Castiel remembers he should probably acknowledge whoever's on the other side. "Who is it?"

"Castiel." And his blood runs cold, because that is his mother's voice, and she doesn't sound happy. "We need to speak with you. Open the door."

"Just a minute!" He calls, and springs into action, grabbing the DVDs and shoving them into Dean's totebag. Dean is up as well, pulling his shoes back on, his fingers fumbling the laces in his hurry.

"No, open it now." The more he stalls, the worse it'll be, but nothing will be as bad as her opening the door to find Dean still in his room. "Castiel!"

"Mother, I'm not dressed!" He says back, "Just hold on!" Dean is by the window, gesturing for Castiel to throw him his things, but just as Castiel lifts the totebag, his ears hone in on the sound of a key in a lock. He turns mid-throw, leaving Dean to scramble back inside and catch the bag before it falls and breaks his things, as Castiel rushes to the door, to open it just enough to see his Mother and Michael glaring at him.

"I said I'm not dressed."

Michael rolls his eyes and gives the door a final hard push, which sends Castiel back to the floor as the door swings open, revealing Dean by the window, wide-eyed and pale.

Naomi's lips tighten as Michael takes a deep breath. "Mr. Winchester," Michael says slowly. "What a surprise."

"A pleasant one, I'm sure," Dean offers, quickly plastering a grin on his face. He slowly eases himself back into Castiel's room, radiating charm. As if he thinks he can just smooth this whole thing over with a wink and a smile and a handsome face. "You should be nicer to your little brother, though," Dean continues, dropping his tote and going to help Castiel stand up. "He might be bigger than you someday, and then you'll be sorry."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Michael says. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Once Castiel is balanced on his feet again, Dean holds up his hands and takes a few steps forward. "What happened to manners? Somebody introduce me to this lovely lady right here."

A giggle escapes from Castiel's mouth, and he bites his lower lip to keep the rest from sneaking out. "That's my mother," he says, voice shaking with suppressed laughter. "Naomi Milton."

"Mrs. Milton, I'm Dean Winchester." Dean offers a hand and another brilliant smile. Unfazed, Naomi narrows her eyes and crosses her arms. Eventually, Dean withdraws his hand and takes a few steps back, standing next to Castiel. "Tough crowd," he mutters. Castiel smirks.

"Do you realize you're trespassing, Dean?" Naomi says finally. Michael imitates his mother's stance and nods quickly.

"Cas invited me in, so I don't believe I am," Dean responds with a shrug.

"The entire resort is private property, and Castiel is still a minor, so his invitations are invalid."

Castiel scowls. "So you get to completely dictate who I can and can't spend time with."

Naomi raises an eyebrow. "I might as well, considering you can't seem to discern who is good company and who isn't."

Castiel opens his mouth to respond, but Dean puts a hand on his arm, and grins at Naomi. "There's a few people out there who can vouch that I'm very good company," he says with a wink. Both of Naomi's eyebrows climb towards her hairline, before furrowing in annoyance.

"You think you're cute." She frowns.

Dean shrugs. "I think I'm adorable."

Naomi takes a deep breath before turning to Castiel. "This is how you're choosing to spend your time, Castiel? Who you're spending it with? Look at him!" She gestures at Dean's clothes, his faded band shirt and jeans with a hole at the knee, his tattered sneakers. Dean shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps his eyes on the ground. "What does he know about society, about business? About success? Castiel," and she's smiling that condescending little smile that Lucifer used, once upon a time, as she reaches out to touch Castiel's shoulder, "you are so much better than this."

Anger, boiling and electric, rips through Castiel, and he pulls away from his mother. "How would you know?" He demands, and Naomi draws back, surprise in her eyes. Dean is watching him too, almost curious. "So he's got holes in his jeans, so what? So his mother works three jobs to support him and his brother, how is she any different from you?" Naomi's jaw tightens, but Castiel plows forward before she can cut him off. "You're never here! The only reason you ever come around for longer than a few hours is if something's wrong! At least Mary is there and easy to find when Dean and Sam need her."

Naomi takes a step back, dropping her arms. She glances at Michael, before turning back to Castiel, eyes darting uncertainly around the room. "Castiel-"

"No." And Castiel approaches her again, though he feels Dean's fingers brush his arm again. "No, you don't get to try and justify this. You and Dad being away all the time is why Lucifer left, haven't you figured that out yet?" He brandishes a finger at Michael, who shrinks in on himself as if he knows what's coming. "Luke and Michael fought all the time. Terrible, awful, screaming fights. Luke never wanted what you wanted for him, and trying to force him into it drove him away." Castiel swallows, tries to keep the next threat in, but he's so angry with his mother, with his father, with Michael, that he can't stop himself: "Are you going to drive me away too?"

Michael whispers his name, admonishing, but Castiel is focused on his mother's face. He's never seen her eyes so bright before, never seen the tremor in her chin. Maybe he crossed the line this time.

Still, Naomi manages to hold onto herself, if only for a moment. "Dean, you need to leave. Please. Take the crate with you, and don't come back. Michael, take Castiel to Portland with you today, and maybe he'll get an idea of why I have to be away so much. And you, Castiel?" Her eyes briefly meet his own before glancing away; guilt rests itself solidly on Castiel's shoulders. "I think I'm going to call your father. Maybe you'll listen to him."

Naomi turns on her heel and walks away. All three boys wince when they hear a door slam down the hall. Michael stares at Castiel for a moment, looking unsettled, before he clears his throat. "Okay. Get ready, we have to leave in a half hour." Then he disappears as well.

Castiel stands still, staring at the empty doorway, until he feels warmth along his right side. When he looks over, Dean is standing closer than necessary, giving him a tiny smile. Castiel sighs. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Nah," Dean scoffs. "That first part was pretty cool, you sticking up for me and my mom."

"Too bad I hurt my own mom in the process," Castiel says softly. Dean makes a face, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"You're not wrong though," Dean mumbles.

"Thanks, but that's not the point." Castiel sighs again. "Come on, guess you can leave out the front door today."

Dean grabs his totebag and they trudge to the front door. Michael is eating breakfast in the kitchen. He glances up when they appear, watching them closely.

"Well," Dean says, trying to smile. "Enjoy Portland."

"Yeah right." Castiel rolls his eyes. "They have an office there they use to keep up with all this business and accounting shit I don't understand. I'll just be shadowing Michael all day."

Dean's smile turns sympathetic. "Well, if you have a minute to spare before your dad gets here, send me a text."

Castiel smiles back, even as Michael yells, "He won't!" from the kitchen. Dean leans in for a hug, and Castiel accepts, squeezing him tight. Their eyes meet as Dean pulls back, and Castiel is hit with the sudden fear that he won't see Dean again this summer.

"Wait," he blurts out. "Do you have a MySpace?"

Dean blinks. Then he grins.

July 24th, 2005

In all honesty, Castiel is a little surprised to hear that his father is willing to appear in Sileas because of Castiel's alleged deviancy. Lucifer's disappearance wasn't enough to tear him away from his writing desk, but Castiel's insistence on hanging out with a poor boy is. Castiel is beginning to wonder if he's the only one in his family with any real priorities.

On the bright side, at least it means he doesn't have to go to Portland with Michael anymore.

He's sitting on the porch, watching storm clouds roll in and letting the wind ruin his hair. His parents went to some sort of special, romantic dinner at the resort's restaurant, leaving Castiel alone with Gabriel and Anna. It's kind of strange, Castiel thinks, that his family got back to their routines so quickly. Yes, he knows, there's not much else they can do to find Lucifer, especially since he's no longer a minor, but to think that Anna still absorbs MTV like it holds the secrets to life, or that Gabriel is still going around trying to make everyone laugh, or that Michael and their mother still go to work every day… It's like nothing's changed. There's just less yelling.

Castiel can't help thinking at least that's a plus, and it makes him feel horrible. God only knows what his brother's doing, if he's even alive, and here's Castiel feeling grateful that he doesn't have to deal with those fights anymore.

Chuck and Naomi come around the corner just then, in a suit and gown, having just finished an early dinner at the resort's restaurant. They both smile at Castiel. Naomi's is still a little strained, even though Castiel apologized for his harsh words, but at least she can smile at him now. Hell, at least she can smile.

Chuck ruffles Castiel's hair as they pass. "Let me change, and then I'm all yours."

"Okay," Castiel mumbles, turning back to the horizon. His father doesn't seem as angry as his mother was, which bodes well. Naomi is the family matriarch, so whatever she says goes. But Chuck has been able to sway her once or twice.

She always says Chuck makes her laugh. He says he admires Naomi's spirit.

Castiel smiles to himself. However much time they spend apart, at least he's never felt a reason to worry about his parents' marriage.

Chuck appears a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and Castiel stands to follow his father out to the parking lot. Chuck blinks at him, then shakes his head.

"You're not allowed to get any taller."

Castiel shrugs. "Mother says I'll end up at least as tall as Michael."

"Nope. Not allowed. You can't be taller than your dad, that's the rule."

"Because you have the power to stop puberty." Castiel rolls his eyes as Chuck laughs. The wind catches the sound, dragging it away, and Castiel manages a small smile of his own. The family is so rarely together that he forgets how nice it is to be around his father. A little voice whispers in his head, the family will never be together again, but he quickly closes his eyes and lets the wind take that away too. He'd rather not dwell on it now.

"I thought ice cream would be good for us," Chuck says as they climb into the car. Castiel turns and studies him carefully, squinting.

"Ice cream?"

"Yes." Chuck turns the car on and backs out of the space, not returning Castiel's stare.

"Are we going to the ice cream parlor in Sileas?" Castiel asks when they turn south on the highway.

"Are you pronouncing that right?" Chuck responds.

Castiel ignores the question, figuring it's an attempt to distract him. "Does Mother know?"

Chuck shrugs, eyes on the road as he tries to figure out the lay of the land. "You don't know where this place is, do you?"

Castiel rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat. "Just stay on the 101, it functions as Main Street. You'll stumble on it."

And eventually, they do. Chuck hums to himself as he pulls into the parking lot. Their clean, fancy car stands out among the pick-up trucks and minivans, and Castiel hunches in on himself, embarrassed. It's nice, getting to spend time with his dad, but it feels weird coming here without his friends. Chuck puts a hand on Castiel's shoulder, guiding him inside, and he leaves it there as they place their order, pick it up, until they find a little table to sit at outside. The wind has died down some, but the dark clouds on the horizon are still coming in, so Castiel thinks they might have to eat quickly to avoid the storm.

"So," Chuck says after a long silence, "tell me about Dean."

Castiel tightens his jaw, resolutely staring out at the ocean. Cars zoom past and gulls cry overhead, breaking the quiet. "He's my friend," he says finally, putting another bite of ice cream in his mouth. Chuck turns to him, but Castiel refuses to look back. Instead, he stares into his half-empty bowl, taking deep breaths.

"A friend," Chuck repeats. "A friend who asks you to sneak out of the house late at night. To lie to your mother and siblings. Who sneaks into your home and inspires you to hurt your-" He cuts himself off when Castiel slams his bowl on the table.

"That was me," Castiel says fiercely, his voice soft. "All of that, it was me, not Dean. I take full responsibility for everything I've done." He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Well, he did sneak into the bungalow, but he was trying to make me feel better."

"Feel better?"

"Because of Lucifer." Castiel glances at his father, just long enough to see his expression turn somber. And maybe that should be what they're talking about, his runaway brother, but before Castiel can think of anything else to say, Chuck is sighing and shifting in his seat.

"I can't say I approve of what this friendship has done to you," Chuck says carefully. Castiel frowns, but directs it at his lap. No one wants to listen to his arguments, so why continue making them? "But at the same time," Chuck continues, "I'm not sure I understand why your mother and Michael dislike the boy."

Castiel blinks, then turns to look his father in the eye. "What?"

"Well, you said yourself that all the trouble you've gotten into this summer has been of your own making. And when I asked Michael why he told you not to see Dean, he didn't come up with a very good answer."

The corner of Castiel's lips turns up. "Yeah. That's what Sheriff Mills said too."

Chuck smiles back, then leans into his chair, getting comfortable. "Your mother always seems to forget that I didn't come from old money, like she did. Your grandfather worked very hard his entire life and his bookstore only started paying off when he started opening them up as a chain. I was a teenager by then. And even that was only enough to pay for college and help me start my life." He pauses, taking a few bites of ice cream. "You know your mother only wants what's best for you." When Castiel frowns, Chuck holds up a hand, setting his bowl aside and facing his son. "She does. I mean that. She wants you to have opportunities and to know all the best people. But," Chuck quickly adds, as Castiel opens his mouth, "But, she may not have realized that she was depriving you of the chance to decide what opportunities you want, and what people you think are the best."

Castiel's mouth stays open, this time in shock.

"She wants you to go back to LA with me tomorrow. We'll stay in my condo there until school starts," Chuck continues. Castiel frowns again, but this time it's disappointment.

"I want to stay here."

"Castiel," and Castiel has to refrain from rolling his eyes. He's very tired of being spoken to like a child, of hearing his name in that placating tone. "As much as I understand that you have friends here, you have gotten yourself into a lot of trouble this summer. You can come back next year, and see your friends again, but for now, I think this is the right decision."

He can come back next summer. A little freer and a little older, and Castiel's mind is already racing with dreams and hopes for what will come to pass ten months from now.

"And don't tell your mother this," Chuck whispers, as he stands and tosses his bowl into a trash can, as Castiel rushes to do the same, "but I'm going to take you to your friend Dean's house so you can say good-bye."

Castiel's breath catches in his throat, until Chuck laughs and pats him on the back, forcing the air out in a rush.

"Will you…" Castiel swallows. "Will you come meet him?" Chuck raises an eyebrow, and Castiel turns his gaze towards his hands, fiddling with the end of his shirt as he quietly continues, "He's a fan of your books."

"Really?" Chuck says, and he sounds genuinely surprised.

"You should see his drawings of Kyriel," Castiel answers, almost shyly. "They're really good."

Chuck makes a thoughtful noise, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder and guiding him back to the car. "Maybe another time," Chuck says as they climb inside. "I think you should focus on yourselves for tonight."

They talk about the new book in between directions to Dean's house. Chuck is pleased that Castiel approves of Kyriel's place in the story, and agrees to send a signed copy to Dean once the final version is published.

The porch light is on, but there's no car in the driveway when Chuck pulls up on the curb outside the Winchester's home. This is when Castiel realizes that, for all he knows, Dean might be out at the beach, or at the arcade, or the movie theater. Still, since they're already here, Castiel swallows, and steps out of the car.

The wind has picked up again, and the clouds have helped to darken the sky, blocking the sunset. Castiel's hair whips around, out of control, as he climbs the front steps and knocks on the Winchester's front door. He worries, for a few seconds, that maybe he has missed Dean, but then the door opens to reveal a smiling Sam.

"Hi, Cas!" he says, beaming. He's in his soccer jersey and shorts, and Castiel raises his eyebrows.

"Hello, Sam," he responds, "did you just get back from a game?"

"Yeah! We won!" Sam cheers, and Castiel smiles, congratulating him. Dean's head pops out of the kitchen entryway, his face lighting up in a grin when he realizes who's at the door. "Hey!" he yells, "We're making celebratory sundaes, d'you want one?"

Castiel shakes his head. "I need to get to the resort and pack. I just came to say good-bye."

And it's astonishing, how quickly the Winchesters' faces fall. Sam is practically pouting, his brown eyes round, and Castiel is struck with the image of a forgotten teddy bear. He holds his arms out for a hug, pulling Sam in tight, and makes a silent promise to spend more time with the boy next summer. "I'm glad you tripped over me, Sam," he mumbles, and Sam laughs in his ear.

"You'll come back, right?" Sam asks as he pulls away. Dean steps out onto the porch, watching closely as Castiel nods.

"I've been told we'll be back next summer, same as always. Probably around late May." Castiel glances over his shoulder, where Chuck is still waiting in the car. "And I'm going to sign up for MySpace as soon as I get to school, so Dean and I can stay in touch there."

"Me too!" Sam pipes up. "I have a MySpace too, it's samsoccerst- ow!" Sam rubs his ear where Dean has just flicked it, and glares at his brother. "What, I wanna be MySpace friends with Cas too!"

"Do me a favor, short stuff, and go get my sketchbook from the kitchen and bring it out here," Dean says. "Gimme a minute with Cas."

Sam frowns, still pouting, but goes to do as his brother asks, mumbling to himself the whole way. Dean pulls the door closed, then turns to meet Castiel's eyes.

"You really gotta go so soon?" he says quietly. "It's not even August."

"I fucked up," Cas answers. The wind is still going strong, beating at his ears and leaving his hair a hopeless mess, but the rising pink in Dean's skin actually works for him. "My dad's here, and he's going to take me to LA for a couple weeks, until school starts."

Dean's eyes dart to the car on the curb, but if he figures out who's in it, he doesn't say so. "Is this my fault?" he says instead, and Castiel's heart clenches. He reaches for Dean's shoulder, squeezing it.

"No, it's mine. I snuck out, I was cruel to my mother, and really, I deserve worse. I-" But he finds himself unable to continue when Dean has suddenly pulled him into a warm hug. Dean is solid and strong, and Castiel hugs him back, clinging to him like a rock in a storm. His pulse speeds up, and skips, and jumps; Castiel pushes his initial terror away, and allows himself to enjoy this feeling of safety and acceptance, just for now.

"You deserve better," Dean murmurs into Castiel's shoulder, pulling away when the door creaks open. Sam hands the sketchbook to Dean, then quickly steals another hug from Castiel while Dean flips through it.

"Bye, Cas. Don't make me trip over you next time," Sam says playfully. Castiel ruffles his hair, then gives him a gentle push towards the door.

"Bye, Sam."

Sam waves one more time before shutting the door. Dean clears his throat, and now he's obviously blushing, clutching his sketchbook to his chest.

"I want to give you one of these."

Castiel blinks. "I still have the one of the Quidditch player, Dean, you don't have to-"

"No, I drew this one after that. And I want you to have it, and to keep it in your room at school, so you'll think of me sometimes, even when you're with all your hoity-toity friends." Dean is practically glaring at his feet as he speaks, so he misses Castiel's affectionate smile. "So you won't forget me."

"I'd never forget you, Dean." Castiel has known for a long time now - even if he doesn't make it back to Sileas next year, Dean and Sam and the Goonies he's met this summer will be etched in his mind forever. Two months, and he doesn't feel like the same boy he used to be, and it's all thanks to these rowdy kids and their open arms.

But Dean doesn't know that. When he meets Castiel's eyes, he looks almost confused, or scared. But he opens the sketchbook about halfway through, and carefully starts to tear out a page. The wind makes it difficult, but soon enough, Dean is handing the paper over, carefully averting his eyes, and Castiel gingerly takes it, draws it near to take a good look.

He's overwhelmed with the urge to kiss Dean again, and quickly smashes it down.

It's a colored pencil portrait of Kyriel and his angel blade, his wings barely visible - but it's not really Kyriel, not as he's described in Chuck's books. This Kyriel is smaller, leaner, his dark hair a mess, and his eyes are blue. A piercing, glowing, brilliant blue, which seems to take over the entire page. A thought flits through Castiel's head, This is how Dean sees me, and it takes his breath away.

Because it is. That's Castiel's jaw, and his cheekbones, the bow of his lip. A smile spreads across his face, and he lifts his head to share it with Dean, who smiles shyly back.

"Thank you," Castiel breathes. "I'll keep it pinned by my bed, I promise."

"Take a picture and put it on MySpace," Dean says, laughing softly. Castiel shakes his head, studying the drawing again. He's hesitant to damage it in any way, but with the wind beating at his face, he doesn't think he has another choice. Almost as if he can read his mind, Dean rolls his eyes and takes the drawing back, folding it in thirds before he hands it back. "It's not a fucking Monet," Dean teases as Castiel takes the drawing back and slips it in his back pocket.

"Value is subjective, Dean."

"Whatever you say, Spock."

A car horn blaring from the street makes them both jump, and Castiel frowns down at his father's car. "That's for me," he says with a shrug. Dean meets his eyes before they hug one last time. Castiel hooks his chin over Dean's shoulder and whispers, "Thank you for everything."

"Don't," Dean murmurs back, and that's enough. A part of Castiel is sure that, when he draws back, Dean's lips purposely brush against his cheek, but he refuses to acknowledge the fluttering warmth in his chest at the thought, and thus refuses to meet Dean's gaze again.

"Good-bye, Dean," Castiel says, lifting a hand as he takes a few steps down the stairs.

"See you 'round, Cas," Dean responds, half-smiling. "We'll party in a few months, okay?"

"It's a date," Cas answers without thinking, then stumbles on another step. "No homo."

Dean laughs aloud, and the sound carries in the wind, seems to swirl around Castiel and bind them together all the tighter. "No homo, Cas." He waves, then turns to head back into the house. Castiel takes a deep breath before running down the stairs and diving back into the car. Chuck laughs at him, even as he puts the car in drive and pulls back out onto the road.

"Was that Dean's brother? The little one?" Chuck asks. Castiel pulls his seatbelt on and fidgets; he's suddenly cold, like those several minutes subjecting himself to the wind's abuse have hit him all at once.

"Yeah." Castiel swallows. "Sam."

"They seem like decent kids." Castiel closes his eyes and sighs. His father is just trying to make conversation at this point. "What did Dean give you?"

"A drawing."

"Oh." Clearly, Chuck was hoping to hear more, but Castiel won't play along. "That's nice."

"Yeah."

The car goes silent. Castiel turns and stares out the window, watching the houses and the trees. He'll be in LA tomorrow, sunshine and sand and heat, big houses and too many people. Then school in September, Long Island, surrounded by kids his own age and station. Maybe he'll be better at making friends this year, after this summer, or maybe he'll just spend his free time on MySpace, chatting with kids on the other side of the country. Maybe Lucifer will find him, let him know that he's okay and happy and Mother shouldn't cry anymore. Castiel suddenly feels burdened with opportunity, with awareness of how much time is laid out in front of him, and how much he doesn't know about what's written on the next page.

He hopes that Lucifer really is safe and happy. He hopes his family stays together. He hopes that Dean gets up the courage to talk to that girl and they go on dates and really like each other. He hopes that next summer comes soon, that his friends will still want to see him.

He hopes the warmth that Dean inspires in him isn't what he thinks it is, but he doesn't know for sure. He can't be certain about any of this.

And that's terrifying.

Weekend warriors and our best friends

The writers weren't kidding about how all good things must end

Then again some things, some things are far too good

Some things are far too good to go ahead and let go

"Down and Out," The Academy Is...

END Part One