The 1967 Impala bounced over the painted yellow concrete in the road, a small noise barely sensible to the riders. The driver directed the hardtop Chevy to a free space in front of a small bookstore.
The windows of the shop were streaked with condensation, and the passenger and driver took a minute to absorb the remaining heat of the car.
"You wanna go in there?" Dean asked, attempting to hide his dislike, but to Castiel, Dean's aversion was obvious. He shook his head, not inclined to go either way.
"You already bought me so many books. I don't think I'll need more for at least a few months." They both shared a laugh, climbing out of the '67 Impala.
They were both at ease, turning their heads to the shop signs up ahead, not many catching their interest. A hand curled around Castiel's and he looked down in surprise.
Dean's hand was wrapped around his own.
His eyes traveled up to Dean's face, which was a bright pink. "D-Dean?" He asked in surprise, and Dean glanced over to him, his green eyes defensive.
"What? I thought it... Never mind..." He mumbled, splitting their hands.
Castiel's head tilted to the side, and his mouth stretched into a smile, sliding his hand back into Dean's. He felt a warmth in his chest as he grinned brightly out across the shopping plaza. He was with Dean Winchester and proud of it.
Usually Dean didn't care for public affection, but today it seemed he was more sentimental than usual.
"Food." Dean sighed, ruining the moment as he took a deep breathe through his nose, inhaling whatever he was smelling.
"Didn't we just eat pie?" Castiel muttered, but he followed Dean anyways.
A small cafe style restaurant was positioned beside an office supply store, and Castiel could tell that was were they were headed.
Dean nodded towards the food shop. "That's where I smell it." He said, and Castiel took a deep inhale through his nose.
"I don't smell anything..." Castiel commented as he exhaled. He followed Dean anyways, and as a cold breeze passed by them, he took a step closer to Dean for warmth.
The boy next to him couldn't help but smile a little. "Cas, what did you want to do today besides wander around a cold place like this?" He asked, not wanting to keep his baby in a trench coat out in the cold any longer than he had to.
He felt Cas' shoulder lift beside him in a shrug of indifference. "I didn't really plan for much today. I have something, but it's at midnight anyways..."
Dean's head bobbed in a nod. "I have a few things planned. One of them starts at 3, but that was after we were supposed to get out of school. Damn principal and his wedding." He grumbled, and Castiel expressed his agreement.
"Doesn't Sam bus tables at that cafe?" Castiel asked, nodding towards the glass door they approached.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. He wants to get into law school someday, so he keeps up with all these different jobs and his school work to get tuition. He'll give us a discount." Dean told him, and Castiel learned something new about Sam.
"So if he wants to go into Law school, does that mean he wants to be a lawyer?" There were multiple possibilities with a law school degree.
Dean shrugged. "Maybe. I never really asked him. I don't talk to him much anymore. Him and Jess don't really like our family."
Castiel felt a flood of sympathy. "Why? I understand your dad, but Sam needs you too, right?"
"It's... Complicated. We have a bad past." Dean seemed to radiate the fact that he didn't want to discuss it, and Castiel accepted the silence. He couldn't imagine what had come between the brother's, who had once been so close.
The heat rushed against them as they entered the cafe, a large temperature difference between the outside and here. It felt nice to separate their cold fingers.
"I'm glad that you bought me the coat." Castiel commented, toying with the cuffs of the trench coat.
Dean smiled. Guilty pleasure, he thought, knowing he had bought it originally knowing Castiel would look cute in it.
He hid the color that swarmed his face, sitting with Cas in one of the back booths.
Sam smacked his hands down on the table. "Dean! What are you doing here?" He asked angrily, yet quietly at the same time.
"Woah Sammy just came for lunch." He said, looking around the shop. "Why what's up?"
Sam's eye twitched a bit, and Dean could read his brother's face in a seconds notice with that nervous habit.
"What are you hiding, Sammy?" He asked again, knowing this time.
Sam shook his head. "I wasn't hiding anything until you showed up." He accused, and left the table. "I'll get you guys two usuals."
"But I've never been here before..." Castiel called out a little too late.
"Eh it's fine. Sammy knows what he's doing." Dean reassured him, looking around the cafe and avoiding Sam's eyes.
His sight zeroed in on the person Sam was talking to.
Sam was speaking animatedly, waving his hands as he spoke with emotion. Dean's eyes fell to the person his brother was speaking to, and he called out his brother's name.
Sam looked over to Dean with surprise and regret etched on his face. He excused himself from the person at the table.
"Man, I thought you were still dating Jess?" Dean asked, and Sam sighed, rubbing his face.
"Dean, I am. What are you talking about?"
Dean nodded towards the boy Sam had been talking to. Sam was aghast. "Gabriel? No... It's just... He likes me, but I don't want to ruin our friendship, you know? He still doesn't know about Jessica."
Dean tried to contain his laughter. "Sammy, are you gay?"
Sam took a step back, his face the epitome of shock. "Dude, I'm still dating Jess. He's interested in me. I don't..." He trailed off, looking back to the other boy in the restaurant, hoping he wasn't being loud enough for him to hear.
"Listen, Dean." He said, leaning in towards them. "I've been friends with him for a while now. I can't let him know I don't return his feelings. I really don't want to ruin our friendship."
Castiel was silent until that point. Something in Sam's words set him off. "You can't keep up the game forever, Sam. He's in love. You need to tell him if you love him or not. Avoiding the problem won't make it go away."
Sam and Dean were both surprised, and Castiel nodded firmly.
Sam finally sighed, and he seemed to age a little with that simple exhale. "I know." He admitted, his eyes stealing a fleeting glance towards Gabriel.
"Hey!" Sam called, standing and moving towards Gabe's table without a goodbye or glance back. His shoulders were set firm as he sat on the opposite side of the boy.
His voice was lowered and so they could only hear small humming, but they could visibly see Sam hesitating.
He seemed to release something, but Gabriel didn't seem to have the expected reaction. He seemed happy and uplifted, instead of defeated. He was smiling, and they watched him pump his fist into the air.
Castiel shook his head in disbelief. "He lied." He said, and he was visibly upset.
Dean's hand covered his. "What's this all about?" He asked, searching the electrifying blue eyes. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"
Castiel shook his head, waving off his question. "It's nothing." He said, but he was obviously lying.
"Novak, you're never like this." Dean said, and they both knew it was true.
Cas felt the truth bubble to his to tongue, and he tried to bite it back. "Dean, I think I'm in the same situation as him." Castiel muttered, staring glumly out the window while hoping for something to change the conversation.
Unfortunately, Dean pressed on despite Castiel's obvious disliking. "Who is it then?" Dean asked.
Cas tugged at his lip with his teeth, buying himself time, even if a few seconds. "It's... Hannah..." He said sadly, in the quietest voice he could manage. Even then, Dean had heard him, and he felt bad for him.
"Cas... I'm sorry, man... I know you guys are friends, and I know you used to like her... If I hadn't butt into your life like this, you'd probably be in your dream college by now. You could have graduated early."
Castiel shook his head. "I wouldn't have anyways. I want this last year to be the best. This will be our senior year, and there's a lot I want to do before I get out of high school. Like prom." He suggested, and Dean nodded, still upset with his actions.
"Cas, I really am sorry." He apologized.
Cas was surprised by his apologies, and he intended to show it. "What do you have to apologize for?" He asked.
Dean's lips parted to form a broad and confident smile. "I kissed you first." He winked.

Castiel turned away, embarrassed as Gabriel turned to look over to them, seemingly interested by their conversation. "He's eavesdropping." Cas reported quietly, and Dean turned in his seat to meet the peering eyes.
"Hi." He greeted, and they both watched Sam's shoulders stiffen as Dean spoke to Gabriel.
"We'll who's this lovely couple?" Gabriel said jokingly to Sam, who nervously stood and went to 'check on the orders.
"I'm Dean. This is Cas." He jerked a thumb at the waving blue eyed boy.
"Gabriel." He responded. "You guys are hitting it off over there. Might want to think about a room." He said, smiling at his own joke.
Dean smirked a little and opened his mouth for a come back when Castiel spoke up behind him.
"It's not against the law to express our love in public places, so I advise that you end the utilization of your vocal chords before we bring the T rating to an M."
Dean looked back to Cas in disbelief. "That was actually pretty good, angel." He smirked a bit, and Cas blushed. Dean knew that smile always got to him...
"I learned everything from watching you." Castiel finally responded. "And who said Angels are good? I could be a demon in disguise."
Dean faked considering. "Nope. No way you could be a demon. Me, probably, but you're too good for that."
Castiel shook his head. "Even the devil was an angel once." He commented. "I could burn for all the crap I might do for you, Dean."
Dean cringed at the word 'burn'.

"Dean, take Sam and run! Now Dean! Go!"
Dean ran as fast as he could at his father's words, stomping down the stairs, the 10lb bundle of his little brother tightly wrapped in his arms.
"Dad?" He whispered, wondering what was happening. He had heard his mother's scream and arrived at Sam's nursery to see the blazing fire, and yet there had been no sign of his mom.
He was coughing by the time he made it outside, the fire having spread fast and creating a lot of smoke.
"It's gonna be okay, Sammy." He mumbled to the crying baby, tears pourinf out of both of their eyes. "Dad's going to take care of it. He can handle anything!" He said confidently.
Dean watched the window to Sam's nursery explode from the heat and pressure, the glass pouring out onto the lawn. The flames had spread across the house quickly, and he could faintly hear his father yelling out.
"Mary!" He was shouting repeatedly, and Dean became worried. Mary was his mother's name.
What happened? He asked himself, worry flooding his mind.

Dean shivered, even though it was warm in the cafe. He felt strange, and he wasn't sure if it was grief, regret, guilt, or any of the other crazy ass feelings he'd been getting lately.
Castiel looked up a short time after Dean had shuddered, examining him. "Are you cold?" Castiel asked, his eyes squinting.
Dean shook his head. He was silent though, lost in thought.
"Why do you think the devil fell from heaven?" Dean asked suddenly, a thought striking him.
"Well the bible says-" Castiel began, but he was cut off by Dean.
"Yeah, yeah some crap about being drawn to sin. But what was his first sin?"
Cas struggled to remember, not sure if they had taught him this in his church. "Lying maybe?" He supposed, shrugging.
Dean visibly relaxed. "You're not going to hell anytime soon. You're terrible at lying."
Castiel sat up defiantly, straightening his posture. "I'm a great liar." He protested. "Guess which one is a lie." He told Dean, and began to think. "I... I use the Internet regularly, and..." He struggled to think up a new one. "I hate fast food..." He tried to come up with another. "...and I... Like to..." He paused.
"Be on top?" Dean supplied, and Castiel's face became a bright red.
"N-no!" He stammered. "I... I-I mean... I like to drink coffee."
Dean shook his head. "You hate coffee." He said.
"No, I love it." Castiel said, but the simple twitch in his jaw bone alerted Dean that he was lying.
"Cas. You're not that hard to read."
Sam had left the kitchen, placing plates down in between the two boys that were having a stare off.
"Sam!" Gabriel called, and Sam looked around for his manager to ensure he wasn't watching when he ducked into the seat beside Gabriel's.
Castiel sighed under Dean's hard stare, giving in. "Okay, you're right. I hate caffeine, unless it's in soda."
Dean nodded, feeling smug as he leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. One hand reached for a fry, and Castiel looked down to acknowledge the food.
A cheeseburger and a side of fries. Extra onions on the burger.
Castiel nodded his approval. "Looks good." He said, although he mostly only snacked on the salted potatoes, later allowing Dean to steal his burger once he had finished his own.
"So..." Dean began as he took cash from his wallet, dropping it on the table, an extra $5 on the tip for his brother. "Where do you want to head next?"
Castiel flipped open his phone, checking the date and time. Friday, February 14-th, and 2:48 p.m.
"You had that thing at 3, right? We should probably head to that." He suggested, and Dean checked his own phone.
"Crap..." He mumbled. "See ya, Sammy!" Dean called as he pulled Castiel along with him, trying to retrace his steps back to the book store were the Impala was parked.
Cas drew him to the front of a store. Passing through it would give them about 5 extra minutes.
"Cas, this is a-" he stopped himself. "Victoria secret?" He asked in distaste, and Castiel nodded.
"It's the only store with a useable back entrance." He confirmed, and Dean shuddered.
"Let's just get this over with." He mumbled.
Castiel shrugged. "I don't see what's wrong with it." He commented as they jogged through the store. "They can tell that we're only cutting through the store. People probably do it all the time."
Dean was silent until they exited. "I could feel the judgment. That's not okay." Dean said, and he jabbed a finger at Cas. "You're lucky you're so cute." He threatened. "Otherwise I wouldn't have trusted you. Besides, you can't lie to save your ass. You need me for that."
Castiel allowed him to ramble as they raced towards the black car.
"Why do we have to be so fast?" Castiel asked. "Isn't it fine for us to be late?"
Dean shook his head, thinking. "It's something I don't want us to miss." Dean promised. "Nothing fancy, but it's something." He finished off with that, leaving Castiel in suspense.
The engine roared to life with the twist of metallic keys, and Castiel buckled up, also having to reach over and buckle Dean in since he was obviously too distracted to do it himself.
Dean drove far above the speed limit, which meant he was driving like normal, but this time you could feel his urgency to be there on time.
"Dean, 2:54." Castiel reminded him, and Dean nodded his head, leaning forward a little, urging his baby to go faster. He silently apologized to her for pushing her this fast, promising a nice wax later on.
Castiel sighed, his shoulders dropping as he tried to guess where they were headed. It most likely wasn't a movie since the theatre was in the opposite direction. What else would Dean be rushing for? Reservations for something? A show perhaps?
He had no idea what kind of show Dean would have wanted to watch. He shook his head.
It has to be something else, he decided, glancing over to Dean's determined face.
Dean seemed to visibly excite, his eyes lighting up and his face brightening with a cheery grin.
"Cas, reach into the glove box and tie the cloth around your eyes."
Castiel raised an eye brow. "Why would I-"
Dean took his eyes off the road to stare into Castiel's eyes. "If you trust me, do it." He dared, and Castiel nodded firmly.
He trusted Dean, but not the world around them. He opened the glove department box, finding the blue cloth and tying it off around his head. As much as he wanted to cheat and peek out, he knew that he shouldn't.
Dean probably would have him under constant surveillance anyways...
He saw nothing, but he felt the Impala slowing, parking somewhere. He heard Dean shift the gear to park and the familiar sound of the engine falling silent.
Dean unbuckled his seat belt, and his door opened first. After a few beats of his pounding heart, Castiel was unbuckled and led out of the Impala and across what he could assume was a parking lot.
He felt curiosity willing him to reach up and move the blind fold, to disguise it as a nose scratch, but he restrained himself. This was a surprise that Dean was genuinely happy for, and happiness came rarely for the Winchester boy.
He could hear Dean giving long deep breaths as if frightened. "Okay... Okay..." He repeated, as if working up the courage for something. He exhaled slowly beside Castiel, and he squeezed Dean's wrist in reassurance.
"You've got this." Castiel promised, even though he was literally blind to the problem.
"Thanks, Cas. You see-"

"Actually, I don't see." Castiel corrected.

Dean punched his shoulder playfully. "I got these tickets for free, and I wanted to go, but now that I'm here, I'm kind of..." He didn't want to admit that he was afraid if anything. "I guess I'm just a little out of it." He improvised.
Castiel nodded, and he felt Dean's fingers begin working at the knot behind Castiel's head. "Dang, you tied it tight…" He commented.
The light burned his eyes a little as he squinted towards what Dean had pointed him to as the cloth fell from his face. He then realized it wasn't just the light, but also the bright white that the light was bouncing off of.
"A plane?" Castiel asked, a little confused.
"A jet." Dean corrected, leading Castiel to the stairs that entranced it. Castiel barely got a glance around the small runway and field they were in, before Dean rushed him onto the jet, handing two slips of paper to the man by the door.
"Just on time." The man reported, glancing down at his digital watch.
Dean nodded. "Great." He responded. Castiel sensed something off about Dean, and he studied his face worriedly.
"Dean, are you alright?" He whispered, eyeing the other passengers on the jet suspiciously.
Dean knew he wouldn't e able to hide it from Cas. "To be honest, I'm not a huge fan of flying." He revealed, avoiding Castiel's gaze.
"Then why are we here?" Cas asked in confusion.
"Cas. It was free." He said, as if that was the answer to everything. "Besides, I think you'll enjoy it." He said.
The man from the door had followed them into the plane and now stood at the front.
"Hello everyone! Today we'll be..." He waved his hands, asking for answer from the audience.
"Sky diving!" A few people shouted excitedly, and Castiel shifted from foot to foot, unsure of this.
"That's right, folks! Now, please remove all personal belongings, unless tightly secured in a personal bag attached firmly to body. Place all personal belongings in the baggage compartment, and we will be sure to get it back to you when we land." People began to take things out of their pockets, placing it into the provided bags and up into the bag storage.
"Thank you!" He said happily as everyone sat down, seemingly finished.
Dean was still digging a few things out of his pockets along with a few other people.
"Knife, keys..." He mumbled as he made sure he had everything.
"We have provided curtains for you to change into the jump suits, and we assure you that you will have privacy and that your clothes will be returned along with your luggage!" He implored, and people began moving towards the curtains to change into the colored suits they had been handed.
Castiel stood by Dean's side, unsure of what to do, even as he was handed a blue jumper.
There was only one dressing room left, and Castiel gestured for Dean to take it.
"Come on." Dean said, pulling Castiel into the small changing area as if he hadn't seen Castiel's suggestion.
They turned their backs to each other as they changed, but Castiel wasn't so sure that Dean had kept his eyes in his side, especially because of the smirk on his face and the way he carried himself as they exited.
Castiel tried to contain the raging color that pounded into his cheeks, and he saw Dean's green eyes scour over his tinted face.
The plane jostled a little, and Dean latched onto Castiel's arm.
Castiel watched the eyes widen. "Are you sure you're okay, Dean?"
"Only if the plane is." Dean responded, glancing around the small plane room.
"Okay sky-divers! As you follow me to this next room, ensure that your eye coverage is secured over your face tightly. If it's not, tighten the strap by tugging on it. Otherwise, you may suffer permanent damage to your eyes. In the next room I may have to shout, as the pressure and airflow creates a loud sound."
Passengers nodded, following the man into the next room, none of them as worried as Castiel about the 'permanent damage to your eyes' part.
The air flow hit them hard, most of the passengers stumbling back. Dean had a death grip on Cas' shoulder, holding himself up. Castiel reached a hand up to hold Dean's shaking hands, and he planted a small kiss on Dean's forehead.
Dean shook his head, standing up a little straighter. He seemed to be singing something, but Castiel couldn't hear what it was. He did know that singing calmed Dean down though, and he was glad that it seemed to be working.
They were all handed large green bags, and they could only assume they were parachute bags.
Dean seemed to still be breathing heavily, his chest moving rapidly.
"It's going to be fine!" Castiel shouted above the wind.
Dean nodded, feigning his bravery. "Just don't let go, alright Cas? I don't want you to get hurt or something!" He shouted, and Castiel couldn't hold back his smile. Trying to act as if he was facing this head on... He could tell easily that Dean was terrified.
Others around the plane lined up, following the instructor's hand movements. He almost stopped to tell them that they'd have to go separately, but looking into the eyes of the terrified Dean, he let it slide.
They were right behind the first man to go, his excited screams fading off into the distance as they fell downward.
Dean backed up a little, having second thoughts, but seeing Castiel prepared and brave, he set himself forward.
He adjusted the parachute pack, ensuring it was tight enough. He followed Castiel as he jumped.
"I'm a friggin idiot!" He shouted as he fell, his eyes shut, and his grip around Castiel's hand was crippling. Knuckles pushed into the palm of his hand, but he didn't care.
He felt the air rushing all around him, and he couldn't hear anything but the flow of wind past his face. His eyes were still shut tight, and his mouth was shut in an effort to keep out any unwanted bugs or air or something.

He knew his fingernails would leave crescents on the back of Castiel's hands, but he was scared as hell.
Surprisingly, Dean was still able to feel Castiel's hand tighten, and he was especially shocked that Cas still had feeling in his hand. He felt something tap his goggles, and he guessed it was Castiel's fingers.
Dean peered out one of his eyes, the falling sensation in his stomach growing as he looked down at the vast fields of green they were falling towards.
Dean opened his eyes wide in an effort to see Cas easier, and he couldn't help but worry.
His Castiel was falling.
What if the parachutes didn't work? What if they pulled them a second too late? What if-
Castiel pulled on Dean's shoulder, covering his mouth with his own. Dean pulled back, not used to Cas taking the lead, and kissed him back with more force than Cas had. He transferred his fear and love through the kiss, his hands still tightly entwined with Castiel's.

Kissing in air… exhilarating.
They watched the people below them slow with their chutes now deployed, and Dean looked back up to Cas in obvious worry.
Castiel smiled, mouthing the words 'I'll go first' since Dean wouldn't be able to hear him over the pounding wind.
Dean searched Cas' eyes for any sign of fear or doubt, but all he saw was excitement. He had to admit that it was pretty damn cool to be falling like this, especially side by side with Cas. He shook his head, volunteering to go, and Castiel nodded proudly.
Dean squeezed Castiel's hand a little before releasing it, holding Castiel's gaze until he pulled the cord.
He felt a jolt on his shoulders, the pack digging into his chest. "Shit!" He felt himself say, even though he couldn't hear it. He heard a distinctive whoosh of the parachute being released, causing more of the pull on his torso. He shut his eyes, feeling himself slow down quickly, and he watched Castiel plummet down some more before he pulled his own, the red tarp spreading to cover his view of Cas.
Dean looked about the field, most people already landed. He smiled triumphantly as he looked around the landscape. He could see his Baby in the parking lot down the road, and he could tell that the buzz of the wind in his ears had died down, although they were now ringing.
He watched himself approach the ground faster, and this time he was ready. Or he thought he was.
His feet hit the ground and he tumbled, tripping over the strings of his parachute, falling over. His ankle twisted the wrong way and he gasped out in pain as he fell face first into the ground.
Castiel had discarded his pack already, and he now rushed to Dean's aid, digging through the colored tarp.
"Dean?" He called out worriedly, pushing aside the red blanket to find Dean tangled up in the cord.
He laughed a little, looking down at the boy. He kneeled and untangled the knots around Dean's arms and legs. He cut his finger on one of the rungs, popping the cut into his mouth to suck off the blood. "Ow." He complained.
"You call that a cut?" Dean laughed, pointing to his forehead.
Castiel's eyes scoured Dean's face until he saw the obvious: a crimson red liquid leaking from a line across his temple.
"Shit, Dean! You can't pass that off as a minor cut! Why would you laugh at that?" He scolded, using his shirt to dab at the blood.
Dean felt the cloth touch his head, and he lied back into Cas' lap, laughing his ass off.
"We should do it again." He said happily, in a high from the blood loss from his head and the feeling of free fall.
"You couldn't do it again, even if it was free." Cas mumbled, knowing Dean was still ready to piss his pants after that experience. "You only liked the slow part." He pointed out, but Dean ignored him, staring up at the sky.
Castiel sighed. "Alright, Dean. Let's go get you patched up. You sound like you bumped your head pretty hard."
Castiel almost got himself tangled in the cords as well, and he left the parachute where it was. If the company couldn't ensure the safety if its customers, than it could at least ensure the clean-up.
He dug into Dean's pocket, taking out the Impala keys, and Dean didn't protest, too exhausted to complain.
Cas led him to the passenger side, but Dean shook his head. He insisted to drive.
"Can't you stop doing things that make you feel manly even when you're hurt?" Cas asked, and Dean gave him an award winning smirk in return, though he didn't seem to put that much effort into it. He still seemed drowsy, and Castiel was hoping he didn't have a concussion.
Castiel popped the trunk from the driver's side, his cut irritating him when it bumped against the rough plastic on the switch.
He opened the black trunk door, looking through the different things Dean had piled back here. His nose scrunched up when he found a bag of old groceries that had begun to rot, and he tossed those outside the trunk, not wanting to touch, smell, or think about them any longer.
His hand brushed over something sticky and he jerked his hand back. He'd have to clean out the trunk sometime soon. He dug under a few more duffel bags and such, his hand brushing against a hard plastic.
He tugged on it, hoping it was the first-aid kit. It got caught on something and he pulled again.
The first-aid kit came out fine, but something else caught his eye as it tumbled out of the trunk.
A small packet fell out of the trunk of the impala, and Castiel's eyes widened.
"D-Dean." He said, loud enough for him to here the anger in his voice. "Dean Winchester!" He repeated, his voice booming with anger.
Dean had climbed out of the car, following the path Cas had taken to the back of the car.
"Yeah?" He asked, his tone giving away his slight worry. Cas had never been this angry.
"What the hell are those?" He pointed accusingly down at the packet of cigarettes, never breaking eye contact with the guilty green eyes that glanced down at the laminated pack and bounced back up to meet Castiel's gaze.
"Cas... I can explain..." He started.
"Good. What the fuck are those?" Dean jumped a little, and even Castiel was surprised that he had let that word escape. Usually the curse words came from Dean's mouth, but Castiel didn't allow leniency.
Dean tugged at his jacket sleeve a little. "They're cigarettes, but-" he stopped himself. He wouldn't lie to Cas. He had been smoking them. Often. "I mean, I... Cas, I smoke, and I..." He trailed off, worried by how upset Cas appeared now.
"Dean, these things are freaking killing you! That's how my dad fucking died!" He shouted, and Dean avoided his gaze, sympathy filling his heart as he recalled Castiel's father's story.
"Cas, I know, it's just-"
"It's just that you took the time to become addicted, Dean. And you did it behind my back? Even worse. I bet you weren't even planning to quit."
Dean had actually wanted to, he just didn't know where to start. He shook his head though, knowing he probably wouldn't have gone through with the whole quitting thing. "Cas, I thought about it, I just didn't want to. I...it's something I enjoy Cas."
Tears were streaming down Castiel's face. He had been closest to his father, more than anyone in the world, and his father had died smoking. His mother had changed after that, becoming an alcoholic, abusive mother, and then transitioning into the astonishing and cruel office worker she was now.
Dean was shaking badly, not from anger but more so fear. He had sworn to Cas that he wasn't smoking, even though he was. That same day he had stashed all his cigarettes into his trunk, hoping Castiel wouldn't find it.
"You lied to me, Dean. You swore to God that you didn't smoke, that you never wanted to." Dean could tell from his tone that Cas was cross with him, and the sadness and feeling of betrayal flowed from Castiel's mouth, hurting them both as he said the obvious out loud. "You do smoke. I thought it was car exhaust I smelled on you, something you got from working on cars so much. I kept pushing away the stupid thought that you were smoking, even though it was right in front of me. I didn't want to believe that you'd betray me like that."
Dean's green eyes searched the pebbles on the ground as if they had the response he should give, but apparently there was nothing he could do.
Castiel's crystal and tear-wet eyes searched his face, kicking a small piles of gravel, sending it scattering across the ground. He wanted to break down crying, but at the same time to strike out at Dean, except he did nothing.
Dean seemed to not want to say anything in response, and so Castiel spun on his heel, leaving Dean to pick up his crap pack.
Castiel didn't bother to grab any of his stuff, not even his trench coat. Why bother? It probably smelled like Dean's cigarette breath anyways.
He left in a huff, the sound and feeling of the gravel under his feet the only sound in the lot, until Dean spoke.
"C-Cas..." He began, running up behind him and grabbing his arm.
Castiel swatted at him, forcing him off. "No. You know how I feel about smoking and crap. Not to mention the enormous lie you've told me numerous times!" He shouted, and the other people packing their things in their cars turned their heads at the commotion.
Dean scowled at them, then turned to Cas with sad eyes. "Cas, I'm so sorry, it's just... I..." He didn't know how to finish. Was smoking really worth it? He remembered the last time he tried to quit, ending up shaky and aggravated, easily irritated. Probably because he had cut himself off completely from nicotine, without taking it slow.
He shuddered, remembering how sick he had felt.
"Dean, let go of my hand." Castiel said quietly, yet sternly. He yanked his hand back, leaving Dean to stumble forward a little from the force.
Castiel stormed off towards the exit of the parking lot, swearing to himself that if Dean tried and stop him, he'd try his best at kicking ass.
Dean knew it was a sensitive time as he watched Cas' retreating back, his shoulders hunched up in tense frustration. He knew it was probably the wrong time to do it, but he was stressed.
He picked up the pack from the ground, tugging out a cigarette and situating it on his lip. He held a hand around the tip, where he held the lighter, igniting it. The wind blew out the lighter and he tried again, finally getting more than a spark. He felt tears stinging his eyes, the cold making it worse.
Taking a long draft of smoke, he realized that Cas had left his jacket. That meant that Cas was walking out in the freezing cold, with a wind chill.
He's as about to climb in the impala and go after him, but he realized that Cas would get even more upset. After all, Dean smelled like fresh smoke.
He watched Castiel's back, and as the blue eyes boy turned a corner not so far ahead, he happened to look over to Dean. He froze, his gaze locked on the cloud of smoke that drifted above Dean's head as he released his breath.
He seemed to shake a little, then ran, a hand reaching up to his eyes to wipe away the salty liquid falling from his eyes uncontrollably.
Dean sighed, scratching the back of his neck and tucking the cigarette back in between his lips. He felt the warmth of the dark gas as it brushed against his outer lips, and he dropped the small white tobacco stick, climbing into the car.
Even if Cas was pissed, he couldn't leave him in the cold like that.
Dean glanced into the rear view mirror as he backed out, but he groaned, opening up the door again and going around to close the trunk.
He found the blue shirt and dark hair some ways down the road, and he pulled over to see a homeless man, looking at the car as it slowed down by him.
Shit, I look like some creep... Dean thought, reminding himself that Cas was wearing black pants and not brown shorts.
He went a little faster, pulling up to having traveled a mile. Had Castiel gone the other way? He made a quick U-turn, heading down the road again to check for Cas.
He ducked his head as he passed the homeless man, knowing he looked like even more of a creeper, passing by a second time.
Dean had to double check the next blue shirt, but he had spotted Castiel.
Cas glanced towards the source of the engine sound, recognizing the 67's engine almost too easily.
He ignored the horn that sounded next, honking at him as an encouragement to look towards the car. Cas wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
The honking eventually came to an end, and now it was only the small purr of the car engine as it followed steadily behind him.
Castiel's gaze was focused straight ahead, not paying attention.
Mom was right. He thought. I screw up everything.
His thoughts traveled to his father inevitably, and as he thought, he heard the impala window rolling down. He ignored his name, only thinking about his father, Chuck.
Chuck had been a good man, and an exceptional father. Castiel looked down at his dark shoes, thinking more about the pajamas his father used to wear, Christmas ones in the summer and sunshine ones in the winter. The ridiculous games they'd play, using only their imagination.

How many times had Castiel said "I'm hungry" and his Dad responded "Hi hungry, I'm Dad."?
Castiel was age 14 when he died, leaving a permanent scar on his entire family, seeming to affect his mother the most.
She had turned to the life of a recluse, never leaving the house except to buy alcohol on the measly amount if money she had, that she wasn't giving up for groceries. No, it was her son's job to get enough money to pay off the house, and that meant he usually skipped all of his breakfasts, relying on the three or four dinners a week and free school lunch to get by.
He had never stolen, but many times he was tempted to, before he remembered that this was not the job God had intended if him. And so instead of sinning, he worked hard through the struggle up until he was starting high school, and his mother bought a brand new wardrobe and a new house, starting up a new life with an extensive career.
Now Castiel was in his senior year, acing his classes and hopelessly in love with a criminal.
I'm in love with a criminal. He thought, and that reminded him of some sort of song lyrics. I'm also in love with an asshole. He added to that thought, still ignoring Dean's calling.
He heard the Impala come to a stop altogether, and after the door opened and closed, he wasn't surprised that he heard footsteps.
Castiel walked on, hoping Dean wouldn't touch him, wouldn't look into his eyes with those green ones. He knew that if he looked at Dean he'd want to kick his ass, to run away screaming, but he didn't want to do that…yet. He wanted him to see how much he had screwed over their relationship.
Dean's steps fell behind him, and he could soon barely distinguish the taps of his shoes compared to Dean's.
He took a shaky breath, wondering why Dean was still following behind him, being silent again. "I'm going home, Dean." He said, still not turning, although his feet came to a rest from walking endlessly.
To be honest, he had no idea which way he was going, and he could hear Dean's fake smile in his next words. "You're heading out of town." Dean retorted, and Cas could feel the heavy pressures inclination to turn around, but being stubborn, he didn't.
"What is there for me in Waterford?" Castiel asked, talking about the town he saw on the sign, three miles away. That wasn't too bad if he made headway. He felt his feet shift above the concrete sidewalk, lifting and coming back down again as he started the trek.
"Shitty neighborhoods, bad food, no place on the map." Dean exemplified, adding on a few more. "Nowhere to stay but the street, large and growing crime rate, not to mention that there's no school around."
Dean held his breath as Castiel continued to walk. Was he seriously considering leaving? What the hell, I mean his entire life is back there, he thought thinking back to Castiel's house. Everything he loves is here, so why the hell would he go?
Then Dean remembered what Cas had said to him a while back...
"Dean, you're the thing I love most in this crack world. Everything else, it just doesn't matter as much anymore." He had confided, and he tried to remember what had started the conversation. He think they'd been cleaning out his room, and he had filled up two and a half trash bags of things that looked like they'd be important to other people.
He remembered it more clearly now, remembered how Cas had mindlessly tossed a few trophies and books he'd already read.
Cas would leave, and it wasn't because of his mother or any other bull shit. It was Dean's fault.
Why the hell had he lied to Cas in the first place? He should have told the damn truth…
His eyes searched the ground, seeing the pale concrete and nothing much else except a few pieces of loose gravel and stones. The grass was growing over onto the walk, and soon the sidewalk ended completely, leaving only grass and road ahead of them.
The pavement was dark as Castiel continued, not stopping. He would go back for his cash and stuff later, but not until Dean stopped following him.
He took a wide turn, back towards Uriel city. He ensured that his eyes were glued to the left when Dean came to walk beside him on his right. "Get the hell away from me."
He felt a shift in the sir behind his back and reached up a hand to stop Dean's attempt to put his coat on for him. His eyes shifted and he finally met the guilty green ones.
"Dean, leave me alone. I swear, I'll-"
"Do what?" Dean asked, letting his hands fall by his side, the trench coat heavy in his hands. "Cas, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to..." He quieted.
"To what? Find out? You think I'd rather not know why you were dying from lung cancer?" Dean was silent as the harsh words poured from Castiel's mouth, but Cas felt no regret. "It's either you care about me enough to quit, or we quit." He said, and when Dean went to protest, Castiel spun, shouting now. "You're being stupid! Do you know how easy it would have been to say yes, that you smoked? Why are you so god damn selfish?!" He accused, and Dean felt a spark of something inside him when Castiel called him selfish.
"I'm selfish? Did you ever stop to think that maybe it was my choice? Because it was, Cas. I made the choice to smoke and to lie to you. You're the one trying to take away my choices." He said angrily. He felt guilty as he let his mind and mouth go auto-pilot, but he didn't take them back. "If you're father died, so what? Is that my problem? He was probably some dumb shit, dead beat!" Shit.
Castiel's hand flew up, decking Dean in the face. "Ass hole!" Cas shouted. He broke into a sprint, running away from Dean, but not before Dean spotted the hitch in his shoulders, the struggle against the lump in his throat, and the tears.
Dean's eyes were wide, and he was breathing heavily. He didn't mind the blood running from his nose. He had just made fun of Castiel's dead father and his fucked up life. What had he done?
He stared after Castiel, shaking at the knees. He was only afraid now; terrified, horrified, that he would lose Cas.
He knew that Castiel's life was a living hell right now, that his mother was abusive and never happy with her, what she would call, worthless child. He knew Cas was bullied in school everyday. He knew that Cas had literally no friends besides Sam, Hannah, and himself. He looked down the street, Castiel's figure smaller than ever. Even if he raced back to the impala, Dean knew he wouldn't get in.
All these things in Cas' life, every single one were a result of cigarettes. His only true friend, his dad had died. If Castiel's father was still alive, he probably wouldn't be studying ever single day of his life and avoiding social interactions at all cost.
Dean began to run.
He would promise to stop, even though his promises now seemed empty. He couldn't help but be slightly amused at how fast Cas had burned out of running.
Luckily Dean was still in shape from football season, running almost effortlessly to Castiel's front side. He ignored all the pride he had to muster this apology.
He looked down to Castiel, watching his shifting eyes. He was currently glaring off somewhere in the near space, attempting to step around him, his arms crossed, eyes burning with hatred.

"Move."
Dean grabbed his wrists, and Castiel glanced up at him, not feeling guilty for the blood running down his nose. "What?" He asked, avoiding his gaze.
"Cas, look at me." Dean said.
Blue eyes darted to green, and an electric silence passed between them.
Emotion replaced that electricity in seconds, and Dean shifted his weight to dig the cigarettes out of is pocket.
Castiel winced as he saw them, until Dean pried open Castiel's fingers and put them in his hands.
"I'm stopping. Today." He said, and Castiel shook his head.
"No, Dean. You lied once, and you promised me that lie at least once every week if not more. Every time I spoke about it you said you never had any interest in cigarettes. I can't forgive you. Besides… My dad is a dumb-ass dead beat, remember?" He huffed. "You're no better than every single ass hole at that school."
Dean felt worse as he heard the obvious said out loud, and it hung between them as if they were two posts with a heavy rope between the two.
Dean was nodding, and as he realized this, he formed words to follow. "I know people say forgive an forget, but I also know its impossible to forget something like this. I know I have to earn your trust again, and I'm going to redeem myself to you, Cas."
Castiel's fingers owed around the white and green packet, and he nodded a little, pleased with Dean's answer. Though he wouldn't forgive him so easily, he would accept this for now.
"I'll... Give you a chance, Dean." He said carefully, and Dean could tell there was something else. "But I'm not going to forget what you said."
"Cas, I didn't mean that crap I said about your dad, man. I don't want you to forgive me for that, understand? Don't forgive me, just keep kicking my ass for it. Punch me again if you want to, I just need to pay for what I said."
Castiel shook his head, pointing towards the sky. "God delivers proper punishment in time." Castiel taught, and Dean nodded. "And if he doesn't, maybe I will punch you."
Although he wasn't religious, Dean knew he'd get his karma somehow.
"Cas, I know you'll still be pissed for the next few days, but I'm stopping this stupid addiction right now." He told him.
Castiel nodded, his fist tightening around the pack. "Good. It's good that you know. And thank you... For quitting. It's just that- Well I'm afraid to lose you like I did Dad." He said, sniffling a bit. He looked to his left, a car coming down the road at too speed.
Castiel underhanded the packet if smokes, chucking them underneath the car as it passed.
The pack was crushed, no hope for retrieving the tobacco.
Dean was afraid to wrap his arms around Castiel, and even as he did, his fear was confirmed when Castiel's shoulders tensed, and he was shoved away. He led Castiel in silence towards the impala.
Dean shied away from Castiel from then on. He was borderline walking in the grass when Castiel took a small step closer to him. "Dean, stop acting like that. You can walk on the same sidewalk as me. Just don't… Don't expect things to be the same for a while…"
Dean looked up at him as he wiped a small bead of sweat from his hairline. The sun was beating down on them and he was partly blinded from the squinting, but he could see Castiel's hurt eyes.
They spotted the impala someway down the street ahead of them, and they didn't bother looking down the empty road for cars.
Castiel looked up for a fleeting glimpse at the darkening sky. It would be night soon enough, most likely by the time yet got home. Castiel didn't speak to Dean the entire ride home, and Dean found it rude to turn on the radio, so he refrained himself, instead finding himself humming Metallica when the car engine was loud enough so that Cas wouldn't hear him.
Once back at Dean's house, Castiel opened the car door, ready to get out immediately.
"G'night Cas..." Dean mumbled as the car door slammed shut. There was the answer to the obvious question: are you still mad?
He rubbed at his eyes, looking back up towards Castiel, who swatted at his arm as if something bit him.
It looked like a mosquito bit Cas. He shouldn't worry so much.
Dean's hand pushed against the car door as he tugged on the handle, pulling himself out of the Impala. Hopefully he wouldn't end up wallowing in self pity tonight.
He felt a mosquito bite him as it had Cas, most likely the same one. He smashed it flat, the blood mark staining his brown leather sleeve. He was disgusted to have an assortment of random people's blood on his arm, so he wiped at it furiously.
"Gross..." He grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets and heading up towards the door. He twisted the key in the lock, opening up the pale white door. He tossed his and Castiel's bag onto his couch, about to head into the kitchen for dinner when he remembered the reservation tickets in his wallet. He glanced at the clock. They would only have 2 minutes to get ready and be there, definitely not enough time.
He shrugged. Castiel had even said that he preferred fast food before. Ms. Novak could suck a-
He crouched low as he heard a faint noise coming from upstairs. It was repetitive, although not in a set beat.
His feet seemed to make too much noise in the sudden silence, and he crawled as quietly as he could towards the knife block. Pulling out a kitchen knife and his cell phone, he dialed Castiel's number.
He had almost hit 'call' when he heard a sad voice, one he recognized well.
"Dean?" Sam stood at the foot of the steps, dabbing at his eyes. He stood up straighter when he saw it was in fact his brother, and he blinked a few times, trying to dry out his tears. "Why are you home so soon?" He asked casually.
Dean sighed placing down the knife. He held out one of his arms, motioning for Sam to come over with a few flicks of his fingers.
Sam followed him into the living room where they both sat down on the couch, Dean pushing the bags he had thrown there into the floor.
"What happened, Sammy?" He asked, and Sam swallowed back the sob that echoed in his throat. He was practically choking as he tried not to cry in front of his brother.
He seemed to give in to the feeling, a choked sigh falling from his throat and open mouth. "Dean, It's Jess."
"What about her? What's wrong?" Dean asked worriedly, shifting his position on the sofa.
"She d- she b-" he began, but he never seemed to finish any of his sentences. He didn't look like he was able to.
"She broke up with you?" Dean asked carefully, knowing it was a sensitive topic, especially since Sam had been closer to Jess than their own father.
He shook his head, hugging himself, his eyes wide with terror. "Worse." He mouthed silently, and Dean's eyes shifted towards Sam's horrific expression.
"Sam, she isn't..." He started, but he cut himself off. That was impossible. Why the hell and how the hell would she...
"Dead." Sam spoke. "Dead. Jessica is dead." He cried out. His jaw twitched, and his eyes were still wet with tears. "What the hell, Dean? Mom frigging died the same way. And... A few nights before this shit, guess what? I had night area if Jess burning alive. Now she's dead, and the fire department is at our apartment. I... I couldn't get her out in time... She- We-" he stopped, looking towards Dean. Remember how Mom's legs got caught under the piece of roof? Jess got crushed by the roof too, and she was pinned to the ground just like mom."
Dean shook his head. "Sam... Hell, man. It was just a coincidence, alright? Mom and Jess died like that, but who knows, right? Maybe it was just some weird hallucination."
"Dean, I know what I saw. It's just too similar, don't you think?" He pressed urgently, encouraging Dean to believe him. He sank back into his seat as he watched Dean continued to look puzzled.
"Well what about the nightmares?" He asked, hoping Dean would at least believe him on those. "I saw her in the exact same position as the one she died in, the exact same chunk of ceiling and fire!" He said, but Dean looked at him as if to say 'you're crazy'
He let out a breath of frustration, slamming a fist against the arm of the couch. "Damn it, Dean, I know what I saw!"
Dean shook his head. "Sammy, you aren't psychic or anything, okay? It's just a coincidence, trust me."
"I'll trust you when you trust me." Sam protested, and Dean looked up at him angrily.
"You're blaming yourself, aren't you? For Jessica's death?"
Sam's eyes widened a fraction, glancing away from Dean's hard gaze for a moment before meeting the hard eyes once more.
"If I had warned her-"
"About what? Tell her you saw some crazy ass dream if her bursting into flame?"
"Yeah, Dean! Maybe I could have saved her! If she had known, we could have bought a new apartment, made sure fire hazards were gone completely-"
"Maybe?" Dean repeated. "Sam, there was nothing you could do." He sighed, rubbing his temple. "How did the fire start?"
Sam shook his head. "They already caught the pyromaniac. Some arsonist going by the name Azazel. He was on some bad drugs though... His eyes were like a bright yellow. It was kind of creepy, to be honest." Sam admitted, looking out the window. "He confessed to mom's fire too." He confided, and Dean felt his fist bundle up against his thigh.
"Who the hell is this guy? I'll kill him." He said, a strong vengeance tempting his mind. It was sated when Sam told him about the death sentence the man would serve for multiple fires across the country.
Dean smirked with a cruel amusement. "Good. The asshat got what he deserved."
Sam shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."
Dean glanced over to Sam, and quickly looked away when Sam looked over. Dean was going to find out the whole story soon enough.
"Well it's late, and I want to sleep." Dean said, putting on a fake smile.
Sam saw right through that smile. "Did you get in an argument with Cas?" He asked, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his forehead.
Dean shrugged. "It was bound to happen. Perfect couples are fake ones."
Sam nodded in agreement. "Hey, do you think I could..." He trailed off, not sure how to ask if he could stay here. After all, his only home had burnt to the ground after he had come home from work.
Dean nodded. "Stay as long as you like." He responded, catching the question that hasn't been stated. "Just me and dad here, but he's on a business trip. He won't be home for a few days." As he mentioned his father, he remembered his dad's gaze as him and As had made out in the impala. He swallowed down his guilt and worry, instead turning to the staircase. "Good night." He mumbled to Sam, who repeated the goodbye.
Dean almost tripped when he reached the stairs, but he quickly righted himself, ignoring Sam's laughter at his stumble.
Dean climbed the stairs, his hand trailing along the railing. He twisted the brass knob on his door, slamming his shoulder into the door. The hinges were rusted and don't allow him to easily open his room. He suddenly felt jealous that Sam was allowed to move out of the house at age 17, while Dean was stuck under his father's roof until he had a stable job.
Dean's thoughts drifted to where we wanted to live in the future. Probably somewhere on the east coast with Cas. And while his husband became the president, he'd be doing some other job... He still wasn't sure what he wanted to do, though.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts as the door gave way, sending him tumbling into his room.
He recollected himself, dropping back with his arms open. He fell into the sheeted if his bed, ending tangling up in them as he fell asleep, hoping that nothing would haunt him that night.