Chapter 13: I was never one to believe the hype

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Mr. and Mrs. Glitters and their pet pussy," a voice sneered from behind Dean.

He turned around at the voice, and glared. Adam Milligan, a fellow football player, stood smugly behind Dean in the cafeteria. Hung on either arm were cheerleaders Ruby Cassidy and Bela Talbot. Ruby, a blonde hot head, and Bela, a British bitch, cackled at Milligans' jeer.

"What do you want, Milligan?" Dean growled.

It was the first day back after Halloween. Still hyped from the three day weekend, Dean and Cas' first block class were rowdy, which meant that Merritt was cranky. Instead of easing into the new class assignment, Merritt picked out the loudest student of the class to embarrass them. Apparently, one person not knowing the Emancipation Proclamation caused everyone in the class to have to stand at the podium, yes Merritt has a podium in his classroom, and embarrass themselves. Cas, the nerd that he is, was the only one to get half way through before messing up. So, yeah, Dean and Cas weren't in the best of moods.

Milligan lifted a hand to his chest, a mock hurt expression formed on his face. "Damn, Winchester. Is that any way to talk to the birthday boy?" he asked.

"And why, pray tell, should we care that it's your birthday?" Jo demanded.

"You better watch your girl, Winchester," he sneered.

Dean crossed his arms. "Fine. Let me reiterate. Why the hell should we care that it's your birthday, Milligan?" he growled.

Milligan glared at Dean. "Really, Winchester. I'm shocked. Is that any way to speak to your brother?"

Five shocked faces stared at the jock. "I'm sorry. What do you mean by brother?" Cas asked in his gravely voice, deeper than usual from the shock.

The jock sneered at Cas. "Oh. You mean to tell me that you don't know, Winchester?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Milligan?" Dean snapped.

"I'm talking about that fact that your daddy knocked my mother up before you were even thought of."

Dean stood angrily. His hands clenched at his sides, ready to throw a punch. "The hell do you mean!" he yelled.

Cas stood as well and grabbed his shirt sleeve. "Dean, you're making a scene," he whispered into Deans' ear.

"I don't care, Cas!" he snapped.

Milligan chuckled darkly. "Well, I really shouldn't be surprised. That bastard always was a stupid drunk."

It took the combined efforts of Jo and Cas to keep Dean from punching Adam in the face.

"You're lying!" he yelled. He lurched forward, but didn't get far. Jo was around the table and by Deans side by this point. She held his arm in a death grip, while Cas used his strength by placing his hand on the taller mans chest and pushing back.

Milligan chuckled again. "What ever gets you through the night, Winchester. The truth stands, though. Your daddy is my daddy." With that, he and the cheerleaders left Dean to stew in his fumes.

Cas absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles in Deans' back. Dean took a few calming breaths, turned around, and grabbed his food, no longer hungry. Cas and Jo followed his lead, and the food was thrown in the trashed just as the bell signaling the end of lunch rang.

The rest of the day proceeded rather uneventfully, with the exception of a pop quiz in Hudocks' class. The rest of the week was much the same. Every study hall Dean studied the Exclamation Proclamation, to the point that he would recite it on the way to and from school instead of listening to music. If it were anyone else in the passenger seat of the Impala, they would have been annoyed. Since it was Sam, however, he couldn't help but notice the proud glint in his brothers' eyes.

Dean pushed the confrontation with Milligan to the back of his mind. He knew his father was a worthless piece of shit, he didn't need another person reminding him. If anything, he would feel sorry for having this one thing in common with the boy if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't stand him. It became an anonymous agreement among the three teenagers not to bring it up again. If Sammy didn't know that their dad was an even bigger scumbag than before, than that was a plus in Deans' book.

Saturday was upon them once again, meaning that there was yet another football game to be played. Despite the unexplained tension between Milligan and Dean during practice that week, the team still managed yet another win.

The days went by and before anyone knew it, it was the day before Thanksgiving. After a tedious morning, full of student council elections and Dean and Cas confidently reciting Lincolns' speech, the trio found themselves in the cafeteria yet again.

"So what's the deal with your dad, Dean?" Jo asked.

Deans' face contorted to one of thoughtful confusion. "I don't know. He's been acting weird since, well, since about two and a half weeks ago."

This, in fact, was true. It seemed to Dean that, ever since Milligans' proclaimed brother status, John Winchester had slowed down on the drinking. He still wasn't around as often as he should have, but he was no longer drunk off his ass at any given moment. In fact, when John wasn't at work or at a bar, he was elsewhere. No one knew where he went, not even Bobby or Ellen.

"Wasn't that..?" Cas broke off. The three of them shared a look. Yes, they all knew what two and a half weeks ago was.

"Do you think..." Jo inquired.

"Nah. Can't be. Can it?" Dean asked.

They shared another look. After a moment of silence, Jo waved her hand in dismissal. "Who cares. The big question is, what are we doing on Friday?"

"Friday?" Cas asked.

"Yeah, man! Black Friday! Everything is practically free." He poked Cas' side with his elbow. "What do you want for Christmas, Cas?" Dean asked. Honestly, he already knew what he was getting Cas for Christmas. He had been saving more money than usual since school started to ensure he had enough to get Cas a present. He decided on what to give Cas a few weeks ago, after seeing the blue eyed man in front of his mothers' grave. What he really wanted to know was what to get his boyfriend for his birthday.

"Well..."

"Yeah?" Jo pushed.

"I've always wanted a guitar. Gabriel use to have one when we were younger and he taught me a few cords. I'm probably rusty, but I would love one."

Dean glared at Jo. "No," he said.

She held her hands up in surrender. "No, what?" she asked.

"If anyone is getting him a guitar, it's me. Understood?"

"And why must it be you who gets the guitar for him?" she shot back.

"Because."

"Because?" Cas questioned curiously.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously I'm the only one with a job. I'd have the best chance of getting it."

Jo nodded thoughtfully. "This is true," she said. Just then, the bell rang, cutting off their conversation.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Levitsky requested that during the four day weekend everyone think about their sex ed projects. Hudock allowed everyone to basically have a free period, in which case Dean and Cas discussed plans for the following days off. When school let out at two thirty that day, the school buzzed with electrified excitement. Dean waved Jo and Cas off, with promises to see them later at Ellens', and headed to football practice.

In honor of the holiday, Coach Armstrong decided to cancel practice and have a short team meeting instead. A half hour later, Dean found himself in his baby and on his way to pick Sam and Jess up from the middle school.

The smell of turkey woke Dean early the next morning. Grumbling, he rolled over to look at the time on the alarm clock. It was only seven forty five in the morning. He rubbed the sleep out of his face before sitting up. The game didn't start for another two hours, and he didn't have to be at the field for another hour and a half. Sighing, he pulled the comforter off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Dean?" Cas mumbled in his sleep. He rolled over and reached for the warm, now empty, space beside him.

Dean bent down and kissed his boyfriends' forehead. "Shh. Go back to sleep, Angel. It's still early." He was greeted with a soft snore as a response. Still seated on the edge of the bed, Dean stretched his back. After releasing a yawn he tried to hold back, he stood up and walked to his duffel, almost tripping in the process.

"Cas and his stupid towels," he grumbled under his breath.

All major holidays were spent at the Harvelles' house. So, to Dean and Cas' delight, that meant the Winchester boys spent the previous night with Ellen, Jo, and Cas.

Dean made his way downstairs, hoping to wake his still sleepy body up. Ellen was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in her hands.

"Good morning, Aunt Ellen," Dean greeted through yet another yawn.

Ellen nodded her head in his direction. "Dean," she greeted. Dean poured himself a cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter and took a sip. Ellen asked, "What are you doing up so early?"

He sent a cocky grin her way. "The smell of your amazing cooking woke me up," he answered cheekily.

She huffed out a laugh. "Of course it did." They smiled contently at each other, sipping on their drinks periodically. After he drained his cup so that only the dregs remained, he washed it in the sink (because he's the most awesome nephew ever) and hugged Ellen from behind. She patted his hand as her way of returning the hug. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, but what's with the random hug?" she asked, cocking a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

He leaned down and gave her a peck on the temple before releasing her. "You and Bobby do so much for Sam and I, and I don't give you the thanks that you deserve." He shrugged. "Honestly, if it weren't for you two, we'd probably be dead."

"I hate to have to agree with you on that." She stood and washed her own cup.

Dean stared at her. Jo's question from the day before at the forefront of his mind. "Hey, Aunt Ellen? You mind if I ask you a question?"

She tapped the back of his head lightly. "You just did, boy. But I'll let you have one more before I send you back upstairs."

He nodded. "Is it just me, or have you and Bobby also notice my dad acting differently?" he asked.

Ellens' face scrunched up in thought. "You know what?" she said, waving a wooden spoon in Deans' direction, "I don't know about Bobby, but I have noticed. It started about two and a half weeks ago, I think." She paused for a moment, reconsidering her words and double checking her memories. "Yeah, two and a half weeks."

Dean nodded his head in acknowledgment. With a small wave, he left and headed back upstairs.

So great. He knows that Adam is his son. Who cares?

You do!

Why would I care?

Because he's making an effort with the douche bag!

Dean walked into his and Cas' bedroom, seething. Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed, leg bouncing and hands clasped. The nervous way he held himself had Deans' anger fading rapidly. He seated himself behind his boyfriend and held him, head buried in the crook of Cas' neck and legs spread on either side of Cas' body.

He breathed in the scent of Cas. The pure, perfect combination of honey and rain cleared his mind, surrounding him. Cas was still fidgety. Dean felt the shaking and bouncing through the backwards hug. He lifted his head and looked at Cas' profile from the side.

Cas' teeth worried his bottom lip. Sad eyes, beneath long lashes, glazed over with nerves and, was that fear? His brow was set in a soft scowl, knee still bounced energetically, and his hands rubbed together.

"Cas?" Dean asked, a worried scowl set in place. Cas' throat bobbed as he gulped, jaw clenched tight. "Cas, what wrong?" he tried again. He brought his hand up and cradled the side of Cas' face, turning his head. He bent his head as he tried to lock his eyes on the worried blue ones in front of him.

Cas' eyes searched his face, and after a few moments he closed his eyes and sighed. "Dean. I, um..." he faltered.

"What is it, Cas?" he asked softly, as if trying not to scare Cas away.

Cas' eyes clenched tightly. "Well. I... I was thinking... about... maybe trying out for the cross country team," he breathed out.

Dean felt the confusion on his face. "That's awesome man. But, what's the matter?" he asked.

Cas' jaw dropped and eyes snapped open in surprise. "You mean, you don't care?" he asked, disbelief evident on his face.

Deans' brow furrowed in confusion. Of course he cared. Anything that had to do with Cas was important to him. "What do you mean? Of course I care!" he said. At Cas' crestfallen face, Dean realized what Cas meant. "You thought I would be mad?" he asked carefully. "Cas? Angel?" His other hand went to Cas' face. Cradled on both sides, Dean brought Cas' lips up to his in a brief kiss. His thumb rubbed soft circles in the smooth skin of Cas' cheek. He pulled back. Their eyes met, full of emotion. "Why would I be mad if you joined a sports team?"

"I don't know. I guess," he sighed. "I guess I was just afraid that if I did, you would blame me for taking away what little time we have with each other."

"Never." They kissed again, slightly longer than the first time, but still as chaste. "Besides," he said, after pulling back. "I'll have an excuse to drive you home now and an excuse to ogle at you in public," he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. This brought a chuckle out of Cas and earned him an affectionate smack on the arm. He kissed Cas' temple, unraveled himself, and climbed off the bed.

He got dressed, well aware of blue eyes watching him intently. Before he left the room, he bent down, for Cas was still on the bed, and kissed him. "I'll see you after the game, alright?" One last kiss to the forehead, and he was on his way to the Impala, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder to Ellen, Jo, and Sam as he passed the living room.

"Alright team, here's the deal." Coach Armstrong clapped his hands and stared the team down. "This is the Thanksgiving game. Now, I would usually be giving you some sort of inspirational speech to get you guys hyped up for the game, but seeing as we are currently undefeated, with much thanks to Winchester," Milligan rolled his eyes, "it would seem almost pointless to do so. Instead, I would like you, as a whole, to take a moment and send a silent thank you to what ever being you believe in, for what ever it is you feel like being thankful for."

The team took their moment of silence. Dean couldn't help but think about how Sammy was still alive and kicking, and about his angel, who was, without a doubt, in the stands now.

Another clap of the hands brought the football players out of their silent reveries. "Now, let's go win us a game!"

Despite how many times they have won already, the excitement of yet another win still felt like that first one. The locker room was loud with shouting. Energy surged through the players, causing many to jump around like baboons.

Dean was at his locker. He stuffed his pads into the confined space as a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. "Man!" Henrickson bellowed. "That was some catch you made, Winchester!"

He chuckled. "Thanks, man. I can't take all the credit, though. If you hadn't tackled that guy behind me, we could have lost the game."

"Bull! We haven't lost yet!" He was all but shouting to be heard over the rest of the team. "Anyway, what did you pray for before the game? Ya know, the whole 'what are you thankful for' thing that Coach had us do."

"Ah, you know," he said, waving his hand in dismissal, "the usual shit. Family, the people in my life I value, that type of shit."

Henrickson nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, I know what you mean man." A comfortable silence filled the air between them as both seniors were lost in their own minds. "Hey," he said, suddenly, as a thought came to him. Dean looked his way, finally finished stuffing his gear in his locker. "I saw your dad out in the stands. How's the old man doing?"

Dean stiffened. Why the hell was John in the stands now, of all days? He's never been to any of Deans' games. Before he could answer, though, a voice from across the room cut in. "Yeah, Winchester, how is daddy dearest doing?"

His head snapped in the direction of the new voice. It was Milligan. A snarl escaped his lips before he had the knowledge of it building. "Fine," he answered tersely. He didn't give Milligan or Henrickson time to comment. He grabbed his sports bag and pushed his way through the crowded locker room.

Outside, the cool November air greeted his flushed face. He took a moment to just breath. In and out. The tension from moments before gradually left his body as the wind swept passed him. He opened his eyes, unsure of when he actually closed them, and walked to his car. Jo's red Caprice was parked a few spaces away from his sleek Impala. Next to the Caprice stood Cas, along with everyone else. Dean hoped that Henrickson was wrong about John being there. But any hopes that he had were gone at the sight in front of him.

Dean paused, shocked at what he was seeing, which, really, in hindsight shouldn't have been that shocking. Cas was rigid, almost statue like, with his arms to his sides and his azure blue eyes murderous. On either side of him stood Jo and Sam, both trying to calm him down with whispered words. Ellen stood off to the side, arms crossed and eyes glaring. And in the center of it all was John and Bobby, faces inches apart as they yelled back and forth.

Dean hesitantly closed the distance. Ellen was the first to notice him and indicated that he shouldn't talk by pressing her fingers to her lips. He nodded slightly, just enough to let her know that, yes, he understood. John and Bobby were still having their yelling match, but Dean blocked them out, his concern and focus on Cas. Jo, after noticing her mothers' movements, saw him next. She tapped Sam on the shoulder. In silent agreement, they directed Cas away from the arguing so that the four could talk in silence.

After getting a few yards away from the grown-ups, Dean took another look at Cas. His body was vibrating, literally. His hands, though by his side, were clenched tight, nails almost biting into his palms to the point of bleeding. His jaw was clenched just as tightly as his fists, and if it weren't for the tightness of his jaw and the glossiness of his eyes from repressed tears, it would appear as if he was passive about what ever was going on.

Dean was angry. Actually, angry didn't cover the half of it. He was furious. Furious at John for finally coming to one of his games, yet not for him. Furious, because whatever he said upset Cas. Furious, because his father was the ultimate scumbag and he wished John were dead.

But he was also scared. Scared, because whatever was said affected Cas this way. Scared, because Cas looked like he could smite the next person to make a sound.

And yet, despite the fury and the fact that he was scared beyond belief, Dean was also worried. Worried, because Cas isn't supposed to look like this. He isn't supposed to look so broken. Not his Cas. Not his Angel.

Dean caught Cas' eyes, green latching onto blue. Tentatively, Dean opened his mouth. "You ok, Cas?" he whispered. After a few moments of silence, Dean shifted his gaze to Jo. "What the hell happened?" he asked, yet again whispering.

"Dad," Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes, regardless of how insensitive it was considering the current situation.

"No shit, Sherlock," he said. "The hell did he do?"

"Well, we were honestly surprised he was here to begin with," Jo answered. They shared a look, because they both knew, somehow, why John was here.

"You and me, both," Dean grumbled.

"Anyway," Sam continued. "We didn't know that he was here. After the game finished and we got to the parking lot, Cas said that he had something he wanted to tell us."

"So, of course, we told him that no matter what it was we would support him," Jo continued.

"What was it?" Dean asked.

"I told them that I was going to join the track team," Cas said, speaking for the first time. Deans' eyes met his again. The look in those blue orbs told more than words could say. Dean flashed back to that morning. How nervous Cas was when he got back to the room. How frightened he was that Dean would be mad. And he knew. He knew that all Cas wanted was his approval before making a final decision.

He cleared his throat. "How does dad fit into this story?" he asked, rather afraid of the answer.

"Well," Sam began.

"Like we sad before, we didn't know he was here," Jo continued.

"And he happened to be behind all of us as Cas was speaking."

"And, well, he said some nasty things," Jo finished.

He closed his eyes, almost regretting the next question on his tongue. "What did he say?" Dean asked in a quiet voice.

Cas answered again. "He said that only girls and gay men did track. That track wasn't a real sport. And that his sons would never be caught dead doing such a cocksucking thing," he spat.

He opened his eyes and met Cas' again. "You know that's not true, right Cas?" He gulped. Because he was nervous. Because he doesn't want Cas to feel like he's less than he really is at the hands of John Winchester.

He sighed, because Cas didn't answer. Cas didn't even move a muscle. He rubbed his hand over his face and grabbed his hair in frustration. He took a deep breath, then said, "Look, Jo. Take Sam home when you leave. Cas, you're coming with me." They didn't question it. Even though Sam and Jo didn't know how much of a relationship the two had, there was no denying that they were best friends, and if anyone could snap Cas out of his stupor, it was Dean.

He made his way back to the Impala, hoping Cas was following him. After throwing his bag in the backseat, he slid behind the steering wheel and was relieved to find Cas doing the same next to him.

Dean didn't know how long they drove. He didn't know where he was driving. The ride was quiet, the radio off the whole way. When he parked the car and looked around, he barely recognized where they were. He knew enough to know that they were on the outskirts of town, on a dirt road somewhere unimportant.

The car was off. The silence was uncomfortable. He huffed out another sigh. Cas didn't want to talk, he knew that. He wasn't one for chick-flick or touchy-feely moments, which made cracking through Cas' stupor harder than he would like. After a few minutes of silence, which drove Dean to the brinks of insanity, he turned the key slightly, just enough to be able to turn the stereo on.

The song that played was rather popular. Dean, though he would deny knowing any sort of touchy-feely, romantic type of music, actually liked this particular song. He hummed along with the tune, a watchful eye on Cas the whole time. Still no change of posture or reaction. Once the song got to the chorus, however, Dean couldn't help but sing along. "If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you would understand. Why I feel this way about our love, and what I must do. If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says. When she says she loves me." He nudged Cas in the side, because seriously, this song was perfect for them.

To Deans' relief, Cas' lips twitched slightly, but enough to be noticed. A small smile graced his own lips. They listened to the rest of the song, Dean singing off key on purpose. As the last of the notes faded, Dean noticed that Cas was more relaxed. He was still stiff, but more in a cautious sort of way. His face still set in a scowl, but his eyes held more emotion. Amusement being one of them.

He turned the radio off. "When in doubt," he said, pulling the keys out of the ignition, "music." He pocketed the keys, then slid closer to Cas. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, leaning the head of dark, unruly hair on his shoulder. His fingers carded through the soft strands. Cas sighed and leaned into the touch. "Don't listen to anything that asshole says, Angel. He's a closed-minded prick and we both know it."

Cas sighed again. "I know, Dean. I just..." He shimmied out of Deans' hold and tugged at his hair in frustration. "I'm just... I'm..." He groaned into his hands.

"You're just scared," Dean guessed.

Cas nodded in agreement. Dean pulled him back into a half hug. "Cas." He sighed. "Look. No matter what happens, I'm here for you, ok?" he asked.

Cas looked up and blinked his eyes, a look of wonder on his face. He nodded his head before he snuggled into Deans' warm embrace.

They stayed like that, snuggled on the front seat of the Impala, for what felt like an eternity. Really, it was only a half hour before Dean started his baby up again and drove them to Ellen's.

It was still fairly early when they got back to the house. Despite the time, though, they only had to wait a half hour until dinner was ready. To pass the time, Dean, Jo, Cas, and Sam set the table and helped with whatever Ellen needed them to do. Bobby arrived minutes before the turkey made it to the table, with two of Ellen's pies, still slightly warm, in hand.

It was finally time to eat Thanksgiving dinner. Starting with Bobby, everyone said something they were thankful for. Dean was last, and once again he said thanks for all the people in his life, or in other words, everyone seated at the table at that precise moment. Dinner itself was a relatively happy affair, what with everyone skirting around the events of that morning as if it were the plague. In Deans' book, it might as well have been.

You would think one rocky part of the day would be enough for this small, broken family. Fate, as it would seem, had other plans.

Dinner had just finished up, the pies just taken out of the oven (after being heated up on low for the past five minutes), and stomachs were mostly full. Dean and Cas were helping Ellen with the transportation of food between rooms when the doorbell rang. Ellen dried her hands on a dishtowel, she was attempting to wash a few of the small dishes, and wordlessly ordered the two teenagers to take the pies and necessary dishes to the table.

The pies were set on the table, one on each end, and small plates were placed in front of everyone by the time Ellen reentered the room. However, and to everyone's surprise and annoyance, Ellen was not alone. Trailing behind her were John, Adam, and a blonde no one knew.

Ellen remained standing, arms crossed in front of her and one eyebrow cocked. In fact, Bobby actually stood. The four teenagers remained seated, tensed. This couldn't end well.

"You want to repeat what you just told me, John?" Ellen asked, the slightest sliver of anger seeping through her voice.

John glared at her. Behind him, the unknown blonde stood uncertainly to his side. Adam sneered at Dean, Cas, and Jo.

Silence passed through the group. No one spoke, John too stubborn to feel the need to repeat himself. Finally, Bobby spoke. "You mind telling me why Kate Milligan and some boy is standing in this house?" he barked.

Dean felt like he was just doused with ice water. His body went cold, rigid. So this is Milligans' mom. Cold fury burned through his eyes. He didn't need to look around to know that Jo and Cas wore similar expressions.

"Fine," Ellen spat out. "You want to know why they're here?"

"I sure as hell do!" Bobby demanded.

Dean, Cas, and Jo were too pissed to make a sound, let alone speak. Dean furtively glanced at Sam. His heart broke at the sight. Poor, Sammy. Young, confused Sammy.

Silence passed them once again. "Last chance to tell everyone yourself, John," Ellen said. She was met with more silence. Her brow was no longer cocked. She was full on glaring. "Apparently, the past two and a half weeks, John has been hanging out with Kate here and her son."

"Why?" Sam asked in a quiet voice, shifting his gaze between Ellen, Bobby, then back to John.

Milligan turned his sneer towards Sam now. A growl escaped Cas' throat.

"Adam here turned eighteen the day he started hanging out with them. You dare walk into this house? On Thanksgiving, of all days! With the bitch you cheated on Mary with and her bastard son?" Ellen was all but screaming.

"Dad?" Sams' lip quivered. Tears built in his eyes. He was only thirteen, for Christ sakes!

"What's up, Sammy?" Adam sneered.

Sams' face hardened. "It's Sam!" he snapped.

Dean chanced a look in Bobby's direction. The old man had been dangerously quiet. He was not surprised in the least to see the crimson face of the man he considered his father.

"You find out you have an older son by two months," he began, way to quietly in Deans' opinion, "and you stop drinking as much, you make time for him, and you go to a fucking football game because of him, yet you CAN'T DO THAT FOR THE CHILDREN WHO HAVE BEEN IN YOUR LIFE FOR THE PAST EIGHTEEN YEARS!" He paused to catch his breath. "What the HELL is wrong with you?"

Dean glanced back to his dad, judging his reaction. John had the nerve to look pissed. His face started turning red, his brow curved down in a scowl.

"John, just... get out," Ellen breathed out, arm outstretched in the general direction of the front door.

John turned around, about face military style, and stormed out the house. The blonde, Kate Bobby called her, sulkily followed behind. Adam was the last to leave, with a 'see ya around, brothers'.

Nobody touched the pie. Sam was in a state of shock, unmoving and silent. Jo, she was vocal, berating a non-present John. She kept the curses to herself, grudgingly accepting the very colorful ones from Bobby and Ellens' mouths. Dean and Cas kept silent, yet unlike Sams', theirs wasn't from shock, but from anger and disbelief that John had the audacity to bring them into the only house they were willing to call home.

It was almost a half hour later when Bobby and Ellen calmed down enough to deal with the situation at hand. Bobby opted to grab the pies and move them to the kitchen where he, most likely, started putting food away. Ellen was in a corner of the room with Jo, talking quietly amongst themselves. Ten minutes into the three vocal tirades, Sam came to his senses enough to move closer to Dean and Cas. The three of them were still huddled together twenty minutes later, providing and receiving comfort from one another in silence.

Dean felt a tap on his shoulder. Sam was seated on his lap, Cas next to him rubbing circles into the younger boys back in a soothing manner. He lifted his head to see who was intruding on their tiny pity party. Jo, with her long blonde hair knotted from multiple frustrated hand tangling, stood behind them with a soft, sympathetic smile on her lips. She nodded her head towards the living room. Dean stood and carried Sam, who was still smaller and lighter than him, to the living room couch, Cas and Jo trailing behind.

Dean didn't have the faintest idea what Jo had planned. He assumed it had to do with whatever she and Ellen were talking about. He sat down next to Sam and laid his little brothers' head in his lap. Cas sat next to him and carded his fingers through Sams' mane. Meanwhile, Jo was crouched in front of the tv stand. Dean watched as her fingers skimmed across the binds of the VHS covers. Out of his sight, her finger stopped on the movie she was looking for. He knew this because a moment later she was standing up with the movie in hand and walked to the VCR. After turning all the required devices on and slipping the movie in the slot, Jo sat down. The opening credits of 'Batman Forever' popped on the screen.

Dean sent a raised eyebrow Jo's way. "Really, Jo?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It seemed fitting. You're Batman, Sam is Robin, and John is two face."

"So who are you and Cas?" he asked.

She furrowed her brow. "One of us is the joker just because it's Jim Carey, and the other is Doctor Chase."

"You're more like the joker."

"Aww," she cooed. "Does that mean that Cas is your sexy psychologist?" she smirked and wiggled her eyes.

Dean found a couch pillow and threw it at her. "Shut up. I thought we were referring to characteristics."

She laughed. "I was just kidding, Dean. Anyway, shhh. Movies' starting."

They sat there and watched the movie. Cas, somehow not having seen any Batman movie before, commentated the whole thing. "There shouldn't have been that much acid." "Logically, he should have died after jumping in the water, since they're at the statue of liberty." "Wait, is Gotham City New York City?" "You can tell as soon as Jim Carey is shown that he's going to be a bad guy." (that comment was followed with a roll of blue eyes.) "You have to admit. The way he gets into the Batcave is pretty epic." - "Fine. Yes. It's rather 'cool'." "Seriously, Dean? This is like a bad porno!" - "Cas, shhh. There are virgin ears here!" - "Hey! I'm not that stupid Dean!" - "Whatever, Sammy." - "Sammy is a chubby twelve year old." - "Dude, you're thirteen!" "You actually can't break down a door like that." Dean- "Doll thingy reminds me of two face." Jo- "Like, oh my God! A doctor!" "So, tell me again. How are you Batman and Sam Robin?" - "I'm the older and more handsome one. And we're both practically parent-less." "This movie is completely melodramatic, Dean." - "Shh, Cas." "It was obvious his cape would be fireproof." - "Cas, do you have to comment on everything?" "Really? Did they have to show the close up of his ass?" - "Wow, Cas. Coming from you, I'm shocked." - "Just because I'm gay, Jo, it doesn't mean I want to stare at every guys' ass." "Have you noticed? Jim Carey constantly has a boner when he's in his one suits." - "Cas! Virgin ears!" - "I'm not a baby, Dean!" - "Wait, so you don't mind staring at JC's thing, but Val Kilmers' ass bothers you?" "I swear, every time they kiss it's like porn!" - "But you like it!" - "No, Jo. It actually makes me want to vomit."

They sat there as the credits rolled up the screen. Cas' commentary, though unexpected, lightened the atmosphere around them immensely. After the first credits song ended, Dean started humming the next song. It was one of the best parts of the movie, this song. Still, Dean would deny knowing this song, despite the fact that he was sure Cas could feel the vibrations from the humming.

There was one part of the song that Dean loved the most. He listened to the words, humming along and patiently waiting for his favorite part. "The more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah. And now that your rose is in bloom. A light hits the gloom on the gray." Now it was his favorite part. Quietly, he started whispering the next set of lyrics. "There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say. You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain! BABY!" Jo, Sam, and Cas jumped, not expecting Dean to yell even if it went with the song. He stopped singing after that, too sheepish to continue and embarrassed at being caught singing such a girly song. "To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny. Won't you tell me is that healthy, baby? But did you know, that when it snows, my eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen."

Even if it weren't still part of a holiday, and yes, they count Black Friday as a holiday, there was no way Ellen was allowing them to go back to their house that night. Not after what John pulled.

The four teenagers found themselves in bed by nine that night. Dean and Cas were curled into each other, hands clasped and legs entwined. Deans' clothes for the next morning were folded in Cas' desk chair.

They fell asleep without effort, both drained from the events of the day.

Dean woke himself up at three the next morning. He gently climbed out of bed as to not wake Cas up. As convenient as is may seem, he was excited to know that Cas wanted a guitar as a gift. Why is it convenient? There was this small music store about a half hour drive away that Dean found one day last year. His plan was to get there early and hope for a good deal. Of course, he would have to hide the instrument for the most part of five months, but it couldn't be that hard, right?

After changing, quietly, and sneaking downstairs, quietly, Dean made it to the Impala. He turned the ignition and wished, for once, that his baby didn't purr so loud. Shifting it into drive, Dean pulled away from the house in a rush. He didn't want to get caught by anyone, especially not Jo.

The best part about living in such a small town was the lack of traffic jams, even at three thirty in the morning on Black Friday. By four he was pulling into the small parking lot of the music shop. There was a small line waiting outside of it when he got out.

The worst part about living in such a small town, was that small shops such as this one didn't open until five on Black Friday. Dean would rather wait outside in the cold November air than be late to the shop and miss out on a potential present.

Four turned to five and before Dean knew it, the doors were opening. During that hour of waiting the line got slightly longer. Dean waltz through the doors and headed straight to the guitar section. He figured an acoustic was the best option for a beginner, and after looking at the various range in prices, he found on that was reasonably priced and perfect. He grabbed it off the stand and walked to the front counter.

The attendant at the cash register looked equal parts bored and tired. Dean could sympathize. His head perked up when Dean was merely feet away.

"Ah. That beauty!" He smiled fondly.

"So this is a good one?" Dean asked uncertain.

"This is an excellent one!"

An idea came to Dean. "Would..." He cleared his throat. "Would I be able to get something, like a name, painted onto it?"

The guy chuckled. "Yeah. It'll be an extra fifteen bucks, but yeah, I could hook you up."

Relief passed through Dean. They spent the next twenty minutes going over care instructions and by the time Dean exited the shop, he was two hundred dollars poorer. He opened the trunk and carefully placed the blue plated guitar with the word 'Angel' written in white cursive along the curve, which was snugly encased in the traveling bag, along with appropriate care kit, on the floor.

One present down, five to go.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, with the exception of Jo smacking him when he finally got back to the house, but he was expecting it. They spent the rest of their weekend hanging out with each other and, on occasion, doing homework.

By Monday morning, none of them wanted to get up for school, not even Sam. They did manage to get to school on time, despite what their prefer motives were.

It wasn't until lunch time when the day got interesting. Dean wasn't too worried about the class elections. Honestly, he couldn't give a shit about who won and who lost and blah blah blah. Which is why, when his name was called out as class president, he dropped his fork, much to the amusement of Cas and Jo. He heard quite a few cat calls and congratulations from around the cafeteria.

Jo's smirk grew wider when the principal announced that the vice president was Cas. Cas, like Dean, dropped his fork and drink and fell and it was quite comical.

So Dean and Cas were president and vice president and things seriously got interesting.

Practice for the track team started the following week. The last football game of the season was that Saturday. Dean had never wanted practice to get over so quickly. Everyday that week the football team would enter the gymnasium and walk along the edges.

Dean pretended not to notice the runners doing sprints back and forth across the floor, but in reality he enjoyed the view. Cas finished his set and tapped the next sprinter in. His shirt stuck to him, sweat soaked, and his chest heaved up and down in desperate attempt to get the much needed oxygen in the air.

As they walked passed the two lanes of people, Dean couldn't resist separating himself from his fellow team members. He sneaked up behind his sweaty boyfriend and poked his sides, making him squeal. Dean doubled over in laughter, tears streamed down his face.

"That was not funny, Dean!" Cas bellowed. When Dean calmed his laughter enough to stand up, he was greeted with hard smack on the back of his head.

He grinned amusingly, still stifling back his chuckles. He heard his name from the locker room door and walked backwards, eyes still on his disheveled angel. He mouthed the words 'I'll meet you outside', winked, then turned around just in time to not run into the wall.

The track team entered the locker room right as Dean was exiting. He nudged Cas' shoulder playfully on his way pass. He didn't wait long for Cas to get changed and get to the Impala.

Dean drove them half way to Ellen's house before turning off to a side road. Cas gave him a quizzical look when Dean turned the Impala off.

Before Cas could question anything, Dean unfastened his seat belt and had his lips on the other mans.

"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he said. Cas cocked an eyebrow. "You have no idea how sexy you looked in the gym. All sweaty and breathing hard." Cas blushed. They locked eyes. Deans' smile calmed to a softness only reserved for Cas. Not even Sam got this smile out of him. He carded his fingers through Cas' sweat damped hair. Cas closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. "Hey, Cas?" Dean whispered. Cas 'hmm'ed in response. "I know we never really say it," he began. Cas' brows furrowed in confusion. "But, uh. I really like you, ya know?" Blue eyes opened slowly. A soft smile graced the other mans lips.

"I really like you too, Dean," he whispered back.

They shared another soft kiss before Dean pulled away and seated himself behind the steering wheel. He dropped Cas off at Ellen's, then drove home. He flopped back on his bed, homework the last thing on his mind.

December 14th was a day to remember for many reasons.

For starters, it was Cas' first indoor track meet of the season, and Dean couldn't go. And god, how he wished he could go.

Cas received the track meet schedule on the first Wednesday practice of the season. Dean was the second person to view it, after Cas of course. They didn't know who was more excited about it, Dean or Cas. Perhaps it was an even tie. Regardless, Dean realized the conflict almost at once.

Cas' first track meet was the same day as the first conference football game. With Lawrence high being undefeated all season, they were guaranteed the top spot in the conference playoffs. Everyone knew that they would be able continue their winning streak to win the conference for the first time in nearly ten years. Nobody knew that Dean Winchester had other plans.

Just like college and professional football, once you get passed regular season, it's all hands on deck. The first time you lost, you were out. It didn't matter how well you played before hand.

Dean knew this. He also knew that he would rather watch Cas run faster than everyone else, even if it was just in circles.

So yes, December 14th was a day to remember. For Dean, it was the one and only track meet that he would miss of Cas'. For everyone else, it was the day Dean Winchester lost his magic fingers and feet. He dropped the ball every time it touched his hands. He purposely fumbled the ball when he did manage to catch it. And if it weren't either of those, then he deliberately slowed down just before he got to the ball, causing an incomplete pass.

The first game of the high school conference was the first game Lawrence high lost that year.

Dean should have felt ashamed, regretful, dirty. But the only emotions he could manage were happiness, excitement, freedom.

December 14th was a day to remember. For everyone in Lawrence, Kansas, it was a day of remorse. For Dean Winchester and Castiel Milton, it was a day of celebration.

Notes:

Ok, so I'm really sorry for how long it took to get this up. I actually kind of like this one better than the previous chapter, but that's my opinion and ya'll probably will think differently. I'm including a link to show you what Cas' guitar looks like, minus the word 'Angel'. So, uh, let me know what ya'll think?

i00. .