A/N: My Beta still hasn't sent it back to me, but I want to let you know what's going to happen... So, I'm sorry for my stupid mistakes, and I will change it when I get it back. This is the longest chapter so far! I wrote and published two stories that go by the name 'Aquaphobia' and 'Friday Night', if you want to read them go ahead! I also have chapter 27 written, but I will need to wait until my Beta sends it back... I need an opinion on that one before anyone else reads it.

Thank you everyone for your reviews and follows and favorites!

One more thing! Last chapter's ending changed a little bit, please read it, before you read this! It didn't change much, but you should read it!

Don't forget to review! I'll give cookies to everyone who reviews! ^^

Chapter 26 – Think

Dean walked into the school, he wanted to be alone; Sam had been too worried over him, and all he wanted to do was hide away from everyone. His hands had bands over them and they hurt like a bitch; but Dean endured it. Of course he did, he was so used to dealing with pain that he could live his daily life and pretend to be happy while his whole body hurt. As he passed the green doors of the school building, Dean got into 'prepare to run if necessary' mode. After Castiel claimed him no one dared to mess with him, but old habits are hard to kill, so he would always look before stepping further into the school. His mind would always try to find those familiar faces and try to avoid them, even if there wasn't any real danger anymore.

He grabbed what he needed from his locker and closed his eyes shut as his school material touched his hands.

Shit. How am I supposed to go to work like this?! I am a mechanic; I can't not use my hands while working… I gotta do it anyway…

Dean sighed and closed his locker. He checked his phone for any messages; once he saw there were none, he realized that it was still early. Without realized it, Dean started to walk around the school without an actual path traced in his mind. It didn't surprise him much that he ended up in the gym. After being there every afternoon, he started feeling that the school gym was a part of him. He felt at ease inside that place. His hands were hurting, even if he wasn't touching anything; Sam gave his best, but he didn't know what he should do to take the pain away. Their painkillers were all gone, and Dean didn't want to spend money on them. They could use the money with something useful, like clothes for Sammy.

All night, his mind kept making him relieve the moment with John. He would remember every detail of what happened, his mind kept reminding him that that would be his life forever; getting beaten up by his father, while Sam tried to calm him down. When Dean started running, all those weeks ago, he felt that running was sort of a punishment, it was hard and it killed him after; even if he was determined to become better than the rest of the world. But as soon as he started to gain stamina, running started feeling good, it calmed him down when started to get anxious; and the best part, was that it helped him think about something else. As a force of habit, Dean changed his clothes in the locker room and started running in the gym. He needed to take his mind away from the pain he was feeling, both in his heart and in his hands.

Dean ran as if his life depended on it, and somehow, it did. As he concentrated on running, Dean started to forget about the thoughts that kept hunting him. 'You're a damn pussy, Deanna!' John said more frequently than not. 'You're fucking useless.' John repeated every day, as if to prevent his son from ever forgetting it. 'Do something useful! Go clean those dishes, boy!' John would yell, even after everything had been cleaned and stored in its shelves. As the words kept resounding in Dean's mind, he fastened his pace. He tried to think of something else, anything to help him forget those words that would kill inside everyday. What filled his mind instead of John's bitter words were the happy moments he shared with Sam at Bobby's place, the times he got to be happy with Charlie, and one of his most precious memories of them all. On the day Sammy was born, John took him to the hospital so that they could visit and see Mary and baby Sammy, once they got inside, Dean was so happy, because for a two year old to see his baby brother in his mother's arms was magical. Mary looked at him and smiled.

"Do you want to hold him?" She asked, as John placed Dean near her on the hospital bed.

Dean was very young, so he simply grinned and nodded. Mary placed the younger Winchester on her son's lap, and Dean was delighted. Having his brother on his arms, while his parents looked at him with smiles plastered on their faces… That was his favorite memory. The first time he had Sammy with him, and time where they were all happy. As he remembered his father's smiled, it hurt him. Why can't he be at least a little bit happy now? Dean knew that ever since his mother's death, John hadn't been the same. When Mary died, Dean was only four years old, and that left Dean, little Sammy and John alone in the world. John went back to the times where he would drink –he had stopped because of Mary- and he wouldn't care about his sons. Most of the time, he would just leave them with their uncle Bobby or auntie Ellen, while he drowned himself in alcohol. As Dean started to become older, John stopped sending the kids to them, he would just let Dean in charge and make him do everything around the house. The first time he hit Dean and made him cry, had been because an eight year old Dean had broken a jar –Dean felt ashamed that he had smashed his mother's jar, and when John started beating him, he couldn't take the pain he felt inside anymore.

Dean shook his head and started to move faster. He tried to keep the memories away, but it seemed that every happy memory he had, would make him remember all the bad ones he tried so hard to forget. Trying to change his memories to ones he only got after his mother died, Dean found himself remembering the time he went to Charlie's place. He was about thirteen at the time, and he was super happy –it was the first time he actually went to a friend's house ('cause Jo's place doesn't count. He had been there way too many times as a child), everything looked beautiful, and for once, the place seemed more comfortable than Dean's house. That was the first time he realized that a house is not a home. The place where he felt free to be himself was his home, and at that point, he also understood that he didn't have a home, the closest he had to feeling at home was when he was with Charlie, Sam or Bobby. Apart from them, he had nothing. He remembered how Charlie made him sit down with him and made them watch the first Lord of the Rings' movie. He had loved it so much, that Charlie promised she would make him go to her place as often as they could manage to see other movies 'just as awesome as Lord of the freakin' Rings!' and so they did. The memory finally made Dean smile – Charlie had introduced him to so many great movies, but she also made him see every Disney movie because apparently 'You can't keep on living if you haven't seen Tangled!', but of course, before she made them watch Tangled, they had to see 'Beauty and the Beast', 'Cinderella', 'Snow White'… All the classic Disney movies that children see. Dean remembered vaguely watching some of them while he was younger, but he found that watching them again was amazing, he could remember some of the details, but watching it again kind of brought the magic back. The movie Charlie made him watch the most was undoubtedly was High School Musical, and of course the following movies. When she saw that Dean liked the movie, she made sure to give it him when she found a motive for him to accept the movie. She knew that he would never accept it if she just offered it to him, so she gave it to him on Christmas. Dean felt really happy, but also a bit ashamed that he couldn't give her anything in return. Charlie just shrugged it off and made him promise that he would watch the movie as much as he could. Even now, years later he still sat down with Sam –whenever John wasn't around- and watched it together.

Those memories started to make Dean feel better, and as soon as he felt he wasn't going to burst out crying, he stopped running. Once he stopped he didn't feel tired, he only felt relieved that he wasn't in that much pain anymore. He had managed to tire his muscles and calm down. He loved the feeling of his sore muscles, they made him remember just how hard he had worked to feel that way. A smile finally graced his features and he went back to the locker room.

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Dean was nervous. He didn't know how he was going to explain to his teachers' why he couldn't write. The previous night, after Sam tried his best to band his hands, he tried to grab a pen and write something. The only problem was that every time he tried to pick the pen, his hand would feel as if it was on fire. Maybe he could lie and say it was an accident… It could happen, right?

As much as he decided to try to fool himself, he knew at least one person wouldn't buy it. Mr. Lafitte was always trying to understand why he was so messed up, what could have possibly have gone wrong… And he knew right away the story wasn't going to stick when it came to him. Dean couldn't tell him the truth, Benny would freak and would probably call social services, so that didn't leave many options, he decided to tell him that something had happened, but he wasn't going to give him any details. It was better that way, he would be left alone and speak at least a bit of truth. Yeah, Dean was pleased with himself for finding a way to not tell his favorite teacher the truth, but also not lie to him.

As he walked inside Mrs. Mosely classroom, he saw her already inside, preparing that day's lesson. Once he was in front of her desk, he cleared his throat. She finished sorting a few papers and turned her head up to him.

"Yes, Mr. Winchester?" She asked, making him shiver slightly at the nickname he hated so much. It wasn't her fault that the other guys in his school were such dickheads. She simply called him by his name. Dean forced himself to take a deep breath before approaching her.

"Mrs. Mosely, I just wanted to warn you that I am not able to write… Yesterday, I accidentally burnt my hands, and now I can't pick a pen." He hated lying so much, yet here he was telling his teacher a lie because he was too afraid of the consequences of speaking the truth. He waited a few seconds, his eyes were avoiding hers and he couldn't help it. He felt too ashamed not to.

"How did you accidentally burnt your hands, boy?" She asked him, her voice showing the confusion she felt. "Show me your hands." Once Dean showed that he was reluctant on obeying, she spoke again. "Now!"

Dean didn't have any other choice and he knew it. Slowly, he raised his hands and let Mrs. Mosely grab his wrist to turn his palms up. She started taking the compresses off and as soon as she saw the red skin and the small white bubbles on his skin, she stopped. Her mouth was agape and she didn't seem capable of closing it. As soon as she regained the ability to speak, she looked him in the eyes.

"How did you manage to get a second degree burn?! Boy! You gotta tell me!" Her voice reminded him of Bobby, the concern she was showing over this made him think of his uncle, he had been with Bobby every day, but he still managed to miss him every time he was away from him.

Dean didn't know what to say, he was afraid that if he spoke he would tell her the truth, and of course he couldn't have that happened.

Luckily for him, Gabriel walked inside the classroom on that moment. He looked worried and once he saw the concerned look in Mrs. Mosely's face, he looked down to Dean's hands and he flinched.

"Dude, that looks awful." He said carefully. He had found Charlie and spoke to her; well, he found her, listened to her yell at him, and after convincing her that he was capable of having a heart and caring for others, he asked for her wise advice on how to make burns hurt less. "I gotta take him with me, Mrs. Mosely. I'll take care of him, don't worry, and please don't mention this to anyone… I could barely convince him to tell me what happened, he was too ashamed to forget that the oven was still hot when tripped in his kitchen."

Mrs. Mosely didn't have time to say anything else, Gabriel was already pulling him out of the classroom and into the closest bathroom he could find. While he dragged Dean with him, neither of them spoke. The silence was comfortable; it didn't pressure either of them to speaking. It was painfully obvious to Dean that Gabriel knew, so it didn't matter if he tried to give him a crappy story on how he had burnt his hands.

Once inside the bathroom, Gabriel locked the door and took Dean to the sink and opened the tap. As always, the water was cold –as cold as can be- so he didn't have to wait until it was ready for what Charlie had told him. Carefully, he grabbed Dean's arm and placed it under the faucet. He heard Dean's hiss and he wished he could make it better.

"You gotta stay at least 10 minutes with your hands under the water; it's gonna help clean the burnt area." Dean nodded. He didn't care about anything except relieving the pain, and at the moment that was exactly what the water was doing to him. "After that, I'm gonna clean your hands ok? It's gonna hurt like crazy but I gotta clean them." Another nod from Dean was all the confirmation he needed. "And finally I'm gonna put you a clean compress there, alright?"

Dean stood there, his hands feeling a lot better now that he had a soothing motion touching his hands. It was like a miracle, it didn't exactly take his pain away, but it helped so much. The younger teen felt slightly awkward standing there with Gabriel by his side without actually speaking to him.

"You didn't have to do anything-" Dean started, only to get cut by Gabriel

"Yes I had. What he did to you was awful, and you should never have someone do this to you. Dean, you can't let him control you, you gotta run away and never look back… Sam told me that you have been suffering like this for years, and I can't even begin to imagine your pain, but I do know that you can't be left alone in a time of need like this! You're hurting and you have –what?- three people to take care of you? No! I told you I am on your side, so please, please, let me help you, Dean."

Dean didn't answer, he simply nodded in agreement and focused on the tap water that helped his hands feel better. The minutes passed by too quickly in Dean's mind, he wanted to have the water on his hands forever, but he knew that couldn't happen. The bell had rang, so he was officially late to class. He needed to get back to class soon, he couldn't risk not being there when he needed to understand the new concepts Mrs. Mosely had told them about in the end of their last class. He had mixed feelings over the situation. If he asked the teacher to explain it to him after soon, she would most likely do it, but that meant he would have to delay his whole routine; not that he would be able to actually work on any car later, but he would still go to Bobby's repair shop after the practice. That was another thing that he needed to think about –how was he gonna learn how to fight with his hands like that? He knew it was gonna happen, but he owed it to himself to show up anyway.

His mind was divided in all those topics, so he didn't notice that Gabriel closed the tap, took a plastic bag, and started to roll it around Dean's left hand. He only noticed it once he started to pull the plastic bag off of his hand, because Shit! it hurt like hell! He hissed in pain, but did his best not to show many of his emotions.

"I'm sorry, it must hurt like crazy, but I gotta do this. Sam didn't do it yesterday, so I gotta do it now. It's supposed to keep from getting it infected, ya know?" Dean shook his head, anything was better than concentrating on the plastic that slowly rubbed against his sensitive skin.

"You gotta do what you gotta do." Dean said, his voice hissing every word, making him suck in a breath, trying to concentrate on not showing too much of his pain. To show any at all was very surprising for him. Usually he only showed his pain to those whom he trusted, therefore Sammy, Charlie and Bobby –so he must have started trusting Gabriel more than he knew himself. He wasn't expecting it to happen, not now or ever, he simply didn't think that he would ever trust those people in school that saw him suffering but did nothing to help him. Showing any pain in front of Gabriel was like giving him access to a part of him that almost no one knew about, he was almost trusting Gabriel with his own life.

Gabriel chuckled lightly, he knew it was a huge deal to have Dean trusting him this much. He would have never figured out by himself that John was that bad to Dean, but now that he knew, he couldn't bring himself to even think about trying to forget it. All those times he had seen Dean getting hit on school grounds and he did nothing to stop it; all those times when he saw someone making Dean trip and he simply cheered the guy who had done it… Gabriel was ashamed for supporting such childish attitudes on someone as good as Dean. He was now trying to compensate for all the times he could have done something to avoid having Dean suffering more than he ever should.

"I would rather you didn't need me to do this at all. But this is what friends are for! In the bad times, you need someone to help you get through the day, and I'm gonna be with you all day! You can't get rid of me so don't even think about it, ya hear me?" Gabriel only gave him time to nod before grabbing the compress to wrap it around Dean's left hand. After Dean's hand had been wrapped in the compress, he reached behind him to grab another –clean- plastic bag, so that he could clean Dean's right hand. "Good. I want you to know that whatever happens, I'm your friend, and I want to help in any way that I can."

Dean smiled for a few seconds, before hissing in pain one more time.

"Thank you Gabe." Those words were hard to be told, he didn't want to have more people involved, but if Sam had trusted him, he expected that Sam had set some rules. "You can't do anything to stop it." Gabriel's head tilted slightly and he decided to explain a bit further. "You can't go inside that place and just knock some sense into him. And you promised you wouldn't bring anyone to that place…. That includes you." Dean said, making his last words sound like a warning, despite flinching slightly with the pain he was feeling.

"Alright. I already promised Sam I wouldn't do anything stupid, so I'm not gonna get myself killed. I like to think that I'm more useful alive, ya know?" Despite joking about it, Gabriel meant it, he wasn't gonna do anything stupid, Sam and Dean needed him with them; they needed a friend that could protect them and help them anytime they needed. It was his mind that was in control, but if he let his heart rule, things would be so different… For once, he would simply go after John, oh how he would torture the bastard! But unfortunately, that simply couldn't happen.

"Alright…" Dean stopped talking, if he continued talking, his voice would show all the pain he was feeling, despite doing his best to being gentle, Gabriel was still hurting him while cleaning his hand. Though he trusted Gabriel, he didn't want to show too much of himself just yet.

They remained in silence while Gabriel finished cleaning Dean's hand. Once he was done with the task, he rolled a compress around Dean's right hand. At that moment, Dean felt a bit relieved, his hands didn't hurt as much as before, and now he was actually sure this would help… Charlie ought to know a bit about everything, she was constantly trying to learn more stuff that could be helpful in all kinds of situations!

"Thank you." Dean said once more. He felt that he couldn't express his gratitude enough, it was just not what he was expecting from anyone. It wasn't in his nature to trust strangers, and now, all he could do was say 'Thank you' and wait for the moment to retribution their favor.

Gabriel grinned. He felt proud of what he had just done, Dean looked like a kicked puppy, who was trying to show he was grateful for the help that was offered, but he was still afraid of being kicked once more. It was both cute and sad; to see such fear of getting hurt once more, but deciding to trust in someone. Gabriel decided that he wasn't just gonna help them because of Sam's pained expression… He was gonna do it because it was the right thing to do… No one should live in fear as those two had lived their whole life.

"No need to thank me!" He replied with a smile. "I'm glad I could help!"

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Getting through the first two classes was hard, he didn't mean to look so bad, but he just couldn't grab the damn thing! His third class, was Mr. Lafitte's class, so he got there as soon as he could, he wanted to speak with the teacher before class started.

"Hey… Mr. Lafitte…" Dean was unsure on how to tell him. He couldn't avoid it for much more… Even if he hadn't class with him he would have to tell him before practice, it was better to just get it over with! "I can't hold a… hmm… a pen."

Mr. Lafitte frowned as he looked at Dean's eyes.

"What do ya mean?" He looked concerned; Dean could hear it in his voice…His eyes started to shift from the student's eyes to the hands. "You gotta tell me what's wrong, buddy…"

Dean hated lying to him so much. After all Benny had done for him, it hurt to even think of trying to lie to him. But telling the truth simply wasn't an option.

"Something happened to my hands, so I can't do anything with them." He felt ashamed of his attitude; he couldn't even face Benny, his teacher… his friend! But how could he tell the truth without having his teacher go on a killer spree?! He had absolutely no idea… "I can't tell you what happened, but I can't do it, alright?" He felt so weak he was disgusted with himself. He didn't know how he could be like that… His eyes felt watery but he wouldn't give in. He would be stronger than crying just before class.

"Dean… Buddy, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on. I want to help you, ya know that. But I gotta have your collaboration to have this working. Common Dean! Let me help you!" Mr. Lafitte kept insisting, but that only made Dean tremble. He knew facing him would be hard, Dean wasn't ready to have so many questions in his way. The other teachers would just shrug and ask if he was ok, but Mr. Lafitte knew that the other kids bullied him, so of course he would be concerned about his well-being.

"I'm gonna get better real soon, and I'm gonna get back into our training, but right now, I can't do this, man… All I can say is that it wasn't anyone from here… You gotta believe me. Please don't make me say it. I can't do it, man." Dean was almost crying. He felt his whole body trembling, he couldn't do it. He couldn't say Mr. Lafitte anything, and feeling like he was disappointing his teacher for not telling him wasn't making him any good. He felt terrible, but what other options were there?! None! At least in his mind there weren't any other options.

Benny didn't know what to do. He could see Dean would break and he didn't want to get him teased just before class. But, damn it! Why couldn't he just tell him who did it? Seeing his buddy like that was so awful, all he wanted to do right now was tell the other students they were dismissed and try to get Dean to open up to him and tell him what was wrong, but he needed to give this class, they would have a test next morning and he was supposed to help them with last minute questions. Damn it! These things only happened when he really needed to do something else.

"It's ok, Dean." He ended up saying. He felt that he needed to get Dean to calm down. "You can make your test today after school instead of tomorrow. I'm gonna ask you questions and you just need to answer them, ok?" Dean didn't like this, he wanted to be normal, just like everyone else. But of course that wasn't Dean Winchester's reality… Of course not. His reality had to be one in which he got hurt by his father and that made him lie through all his teeth to all his friends –not that he had that many- because telling the truth simply wasn't an option. His eyes refused to look at his teacher and he didn't even move from where he was. "Hey… kid." Benny's hand grabbed Dean's shoulder, trying to make Dean face him. "It's ok… I don't mind, and you would be with me anyway… You don't have to come to class tomorrow while they're doing the test. Dean, I need you to tell me when you have a problem… I won't pressure you, but remember that I'm your friend and that I want to help you! Please let me do so!"

Dean shook his head. He couldn't tell him. It wasn't a possibility.

"Sorry, Benny… I just can't. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you… And please don't make me tell you. You're better off not knowing…" Dean looked at floor. "You're better off not knowing." He repeated, this time his voice sounded stronger. I can't get Benny hurt… The resolution was what made him decide what he was absolutely not gonna say.

Benny frowned.

"Why am I better off not knowing?" Once he saw Dean's fierce glance, he knew it was a lost cause. He had seen that look on the kid, he knew he wasn't about to give in. It was better to give up, but still let him know he would still be there for him. "Alright. I won't keep asking, but lemme tell ya, if you ever feel like you want to talk about it, I'm always here… I won't go away if you tell me. I just want to help you, Dean. And I'll wait until you're ready."

That calmed Dean down a bit, but he still didn't feel like himself. The hate he had over himself didn't go away, it was there buried as deep as ever.

"Thanks." Dean said, turning away from the teacher. "I'll do the test today." He agreed as he walked towards his seat.

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Lunch had been hell. People wouldn't pick on him, but he couldn't eat by himself. Grabbing a fork and a knife suddenly was the hardest thing he had ever done. If it wasn't bad enough that people were looking at his hands and whispering, Gabriel decided he wouldn't let him starve just because he couldn't grab the cutlery. Of course he just had to feed Dean himself. And of course that made people's whispers even more intense; they even started pointing at him.

At some point during lunch, Castiel decided to go and see why people were whispering so much. It wasn't common to have that happen, and when it did, usually his brothers informed him of what was happening, but neither Balthazar nor Gabriel had come to him, I mean, Balthazar had come but not with useful information, all he had was that it was about Dean. That made Castiel curious enough and made him walk towards his brother and Dean's table.

"Good afternoon." Castiel said as he sank down on a chair next to Gabriel.

Dean and Gabriel shared a glance and a very subtle shake from Dean's head made Gabriel nod shortly after.

"What's going on?" Castiel asked annoyed. He didn't like not knowing what was happening in the school. People usually came up to him and tried to force themselves –but not too much!- into Castiel's way, but today, nothing. Not even one person tried to talk to him.

"Oh, nothing much bro…" Gabriel said, as he force-feed Dean once more. Reluctantly, Dean let him; Gabriel had already paid his lunch, he wasn't going to let that food go to waste! "Just making sure, Dean-o over here eats his lunch!"

Castiel nodded, but he still didn't understand. Why was he making sure Dean ate? Why did he even care?

"I can make sure he eats, Gabriel… Leave so I can talk to him alone." Castiel's voice was one of command. Gabriel knew it well enough to simply obey when that voice came around. "Thank you." And so, Gabriel left Dean alone –in their table- with Castiel. "Why was he feeding you?"

Dean gulped. The question was exactly what he didn't want to answer.

"Something happened and I can't use my hands." He said carefully, his voice sounded calm; all those hours of getting his confidence boosted had worked, he could speak normally with people now. Even if his mind was screaming for him to run in the opposite direction.

Castiel looked at Dean's hands. Once he saw the compresses around them, he simply nodded.

"I'm still waiting for a name you know?" Dean knew. Every day he tried forget just how close Cas was to finding out what was wrong with him, so of course he remembered that Cas was still trying to find out the truth. Couldn't he just take a no for an answer!?

"Sorry, but I won't talk." Dean told him, a small smile in his lips. His eyes glanced at his plate, to where his food rested. He was hungry, but with Gabe gone how was he supposed to eat?

"I'm not dumb, Dean. I can figure out that it was the same person from before. If you'd just give me a name…" Suddenly, Castiel noticed how Dean's eyes lingered on the plate and he realized that Dean wanted to eat more. Without only a sigh, he moved from his chair to the vacant chair Gabe left between them; Cas grabbed a fork and placed some of the rice in it. As soon as he had joined a bit of chicken, he waited for Dean to open his mouth.

Dean didn't expect Cas to do that. Why would he expect that? Castiel was the Almighty King of their school! Getting fed by the King was most likely against the rules that damned book had. But then again, maybe no one ever thought that would happen. Ever. Slowly, he opened his mouth and let himself be fed by Castiel.

"Thanks." Dean said between a few munches.

Castiel looked at his eyes for a few seconds. He could see that Dean didn't trust him yet… He was only doing what he needed in order to eat. It was as if Dean thought Castiel was going to stab him as soon as he looked away… And that made Castiel sigh once more.

"You think I'm Wickham…" He started slowly, making sure Dean heard everything he said. "But I'm actually a lot more like Darcy."

Dean frowned. What the hell is he talking about?!

"What?" Dean must have heard wrong… Castiel wasn't making any sense!

Castiel fed him a few more times before repeating what he said.

"I'm a not like Wickham… I am much more similar to Mr. Darcy… But then again, how would you know that?"

Dean decided to ignore that comment. Castiel sounded sincere, but he had no idea of what he was talking about. Darcy's name didn't sound foreign, but Wickham?! He had never heard of him! Note to self: Ask Charlie what the hell a Wickham is.

Lunch kept on going without either of them talking. It was just Dean opening his mouth for Cas to feed him, and nothing else.

Once he was finished, he thanked Castiel once more and fled from the cafeteria.

He took his phone from his pocket and started dialing Charlie's number. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

"Dean!" Charlie said as a greeting. "How are you? How are your hands?" She sounded concerned, but Dean wanted to know what Cas was talking about. It confused him not to know.

"I'm better, thanks for giving Gabe some tips. I gotta ask you something, where are you?"

Charlie walked out of the library as Dean reached its door. Dean ended the phone call as Charlie started asking questions.

"Hey Dean! What do you need?" She asked, a worried look in her eyes.

Dean sighed. Now that he finally had her in front of him, he did the only thing he knew would make him feel better. He pulled her into a hug, making sure to hug her tight, but not to hurt his hands in the process.

"I just needed you and your oh so wise knowledge." Dean said.

Charlie rolled her eyes.

"I know I'm a genius, but you gotta ask what you want to know." Dean could hear the smile in her voice, without needing to actually look at her.

"What the hell is a Wickham?" He asked, unable to ask it any other way.

Charlie pulled away from him and looked at Dean's eyes confused.

"What?"

"Wickham. What is it?" He was so lost, trying to understand what Castiel had said, that he didn't know if he had actually said things right the first time.

Charlie looked at his eyes and huffed.

"He's just the biggest douche ever. Why?"

"And what who's Mr. Darcy?" Dean was sure he had heard the name before, but he didn't remember anything from it.

"Oh. He's just every girl's fantasy!" Upon Dean's raised eyebrows, she added "Even mine… He's just so perfect!" The question crossed her mind once more. "Why do you want to know?"

So he's every girl's fantasy?! What the hell?!

"Dean!" She said, while hitting him. After looking at Dean's face for two minutes, without him answering her concerned her a bit.

"What?" He said, his eyes focusing on her.

"Why do you want to know about Pride and Prejudice?"

Dean looked at her. Pride and Prejudice! So that was where it was from! He had never actually read the book or even watched the movie, but now… Now he felt like he needed to.

"Do you have the book?" He asked her, even though it was obvious she had.

"Duh. Of course I have it, you dumbass!"

Dean nodded in acknowledgement.

"Cas mentioned something like 'You think I'm Wickham, but I'm actually Mr. Darcy'… I just wanted to know what he meant by it."

Charlie locked her eyes with his.

"I can't just explain you how much I don't see that happening, but you gotta read the book to understand it. Maybe there's more to Castiel than we know of." She said, trying to make Dean see that she didn't see the possibility happening.

"I guess I have a book to read tonight!"