A/N: Okay, I know, I lied about drug use. I hope you liked that last chapter though – it was a pretty terrible thing to have happen. All these ideas come through looking at the characters and depending on the character I write a storyline for each and blah blah blah my brain is melting. This chapter is gonna be a little short because I've been really tired and my phone is messed up cause I dropped it and I'm pissed off and blah blah blah.
Alright, have fun reading.
Chapter 5: Misery
Dean awoke frantically from a nightmare, gasping and clutching at his chest. He could still feel the water all around him, drowning him; when he was a child, he went to the beach with his father and his brother. He spent most of the time in the water, and a wave dragged him out to sea. John was drunk, and the only reason he was able to live was the lifeguard. He thanked the Lord for California beaches and their strict laws. Castiel stirred, not waking. Dean sighed in relief, rubbing his back gently. He climbed out of the bed, walking to the balcony for a smoke. Meg sat there; Dean considered leaving her to some personal time, but she waved him over, thin hands moving tiredly. She patted the ground next to her, offering some blankets.
"Couldn't sleep?" asked Dean sitting carefully next to her. She curled up against him, wrapping her blanket around his shoulders.
"I have nightmares too," she whispered. "Can I tell you something?" she turned to him, eyes scanning his face. Dean continued to look out over the sleeping town, but he nodded slightly, glancing at her before looking away. She breathed in slowly, shifting under the large blanket. "It's silly. And embarrassing."
"What?" said Dean, moving away to look at her. She stared at her feet, eyes closed, waiting for him to ask again. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. "Meg, c'mon, tell me. I'm not judging you."
"I feel guilty for killing Uriel… I feel horrible," she whispered, tears spilling.
"You didn't kill him, Meg," he murmured, holding her closer. She shook her head, frowning at him.
"I pushed him down a flight of stairs," she said, pressing her face into his chest. "I shoved him."
"You wanted someone to be able to catch him, Meg. You had forethought and now you're upset because he tumbled down a flight of stairs. How did he die?" Dean pulled her back, holding her chin up. She pawed at her eyes, looking away.
"He hemorrhage, I think is what it's called," she muttered. Dean nodded slowly. "He wasn't going to make it no matter what they did. But I feel like… if I hadn't pushed him… I could've just gone on with my life and…"
"Yeah, but it could've happened to someone else, somewhere else. Meg, you did okay. You did the only thing you could do. So no, you did not kill him. You pushed him, and then he just so happened to die. He could've been fine." Meg nodded, hugging tightly to Dean. They looked around, beams of sun cascading through the dark purple sky. Meg stretched, dragging her cigarette gently and then throwing it over the edge of the balcony. "Why did you tell me this? I mean, why me?"
"Because Dean, you are… a unicorn." Meg looked at him, laughing at the confused and slightly offended look on his face. "A unicorn means you're special. Unique. Not like everyone else in this stupid, fucked up world. Someone who has a smile on their face even when it's the darkest out. Castiel is one. You are one. You guys belong together, and unicorns deserve to know things and you should always tell them when you feel something because they know exactly what to say." She shrugged, looking at him. He smiled brightly at her. "See?" She rose, stretching. She looked at the clock on her phone. "Might as well start getting ready. It's already 6:30." she left the blanket, and walked inside to wake Cas. A sharp wind rolled in and Dean killed his cigarette, rising and stretching. He wrapped the thick, woolen fiber around his shoulders, shoving open the door with his foot.
"Morning…" said Castiel sleepily, pulling himself reluctantly out of bed. His early morning beauty struck Dean: disheveled hair, sleepy eyes, and boxers that clung to his toned thighs. 'Perfection,' thought Dean, staring blankly at Cas.
"You okay Dean?" he whispered, waving a hand in front of his face. Dean blinked, then nodded, shrugging off his sudden onslaught of wanting. "Okay!" Cas said brightly. "Come with me, you need a new shirt." Dean followed Cas into his bedroom, which was draped with panels of bright fabrics; Dean realized suddenly that they were painted canvas.
"Did you do these?" he asked, running a hand over a portrait of a woman who looked remarkably like Cas. She had his same brilliantly blue eyes.
"Yeah," said Castiel nonchalantly. "That's my mom." he pulled out a dark, long-sleeved shirt, throwing it on over his bare back. Dean stared at him, feeling that same sensation of longing. "Here." he threw a similar shirt to Dean, who caught it in one hand. Dean stepped forward, gazing around the room – flowers and birds bloomed on the walls, a portrait of Meg hug on the wall opposite Cas' mother.
"These are amazing," murmured Dean, slipping off his band shirt and pulling on Castiel's. He stepped closer to Cas, pulling him towards him. "You're amazing." Dean pressed his mouth to Cas', sliding his tongue along the edge of his bottom lip. Cas melted, hands tracing the sharp curvature of Dean's shoulder, coming to rest against the nape of his neck. He gasped as Dean's hands fisted against his sides, winding into the soft black cotton, and Dean pulled him close, locking their hips together. The moaned softly into each other's mouths, tongues battling for dominance. Castiel tugged at the soft, short hairs on Dean's neck, kissing him passionately, heart racing. They ground against each other, sex bubbling in their bellies.
Meg cleared her throat, chuckling, and they jumped apart.
"Almost time to go if you want to get Sam.," she said quietly, stepping away. Dean strode quickly out of the room, grabbing his bag from the table in the kitchen. He double-checked for his keys. His face was hot with embarrassment as Cas entered the room. He wound his arms around Dean's waist, pressing his face gently into his back.
"What's wrong?" he asked gently. His hands rested on Dean's hip bones, caressing them gently.
"I'm just pissed off." said Dean. "I'm pissed off that I can't get over the fact that I'm gay. I'm pissed off that I'm embarrassed to be around your sister when I kiss you. I'm scared of the fact that I am completely, and totally in love with you." He stopped, turning around. His face was flushed, and tears were starting to fill his eyes. "You, Castiel. I am in love with you and that is scary." Castiel nodded, smiling up at him. "And I don't know… I don't know what it means, when I say that, so that's extra scary." Cas turned, gazing into Dean's sea-green eyes. He smiled slightly, and leaned up to kiss him. Dean turned away, scowling.
"Dean, you can't be scared. That's the one thing I know, is that when you're scared, your life stops, and you can't breathe, and nothing is right afterwards. So you can't be scared. Not for a second." Cas whispered into Dean's neck. Dean nodded, looking up to stop a flood of tears. He wasn't going to cry, not today. A small smile lifted his face, and he kissed Castiel's forehead, moving away to grab his bag.
"Go put on some pants, so we can get Sam."
School was misery. Dean slept through half of his exam in English, frowning when he realized he didn't have enough time to finish. The teacher came around to him, an indecipherable look on his thin features. Mr. Deethe glanced down at his practically empty paper, shaking his head slightly. He reached over, grabbing Dean's pencil and writing a big NOT FINISHED on the top.
"Come in after school and I'll help you," he muttered, stepping away as the bell rang. "Tests on my desk, I'll see you all first thing Monday morning. Have a good weekend." Dean stretched slightly, cracking his neck and trying his hardest to wake himself up. "You can't sleep anymore in my class if you expect to pass, Dean." his teacher sat in the desk opposite him, watching kids funnel out. "I have great expectations for you – that last paper you wrote was amazing; I didn't think anyone would see the point I was trying to get across with the prompt."
Dean shrugged, lifting his bag and settling his work into it.
"You have an amazing talent for writing. You should go with it, Dean; it could get you places." Mr. Deethe patted Dean's back and took the exam, careful not to wrinkle it. "See you after school." Dean nodded, collecting what was left of his things and shuffling from the room silently.
"How was English?" asked Cas when he met him by the stairs. "Did you finish the exam? I thought it was pretty hard, but I got through it."
"I fell asleep." replied Dean coolly, shooting a dark look at Cas.
"Oh." he murmured, feeling his face flush hotly. "Sorry?"
"I'm hungry," said Dean, warming slightly to Castiel. "Sorry I was sharp with you." Cas shrugged, motioning to the cafeteria. They walked in silence for a moment, words caught in their throats. Dean turned to Castiel before entering the cafeteria, eyes moving wildly around. "Hold my hand," he whispered. His fingers were curled into fists, shaking slightly in fear. Castiel gently uncurled one hand, sliding his fingers carefully through each of Dean's, and grasping them tightly.
"Ready?" asked Cas. He nodded, and then turned to the cafeteria door, hand in hand with Cas. This was no time to be scared; fear was for the weak, and Dean knew he was anything but. He had the strength it took to be happy, didn't he? He wanted this: passion, romance, the feeling of Castiel kissing him when people were looking, instead of secretly when he knew he wouldn't be caught. The chatter that filled the room didn't end when they entered it, hand in hand, side by side. Dean smiled and chuckled a bit; what did he have to be nervous about. Why was he nervous in the first place?
Dean understood why, now, he was nervous. There she was: the thing he'd feared the most. Her name was Ruby. He had Biology with her, and he knew deep in his heart that she was attracted to him. Her sneer filled the room with the deepest of hatred. Ruby was the girl who he'd always been afraid of – the girl that was emotionally attached to him in a way he didn't want her to be – the girl who, above all else, was a bitch. She wandered into the Biology classroom, gazing longingly at Dean, and plopped herself down next to him.
"Hey Dean." she said, almost seductively. How could one girl make the whole room uncomfortable?
"Ruby," said Dean softly, holding his breath for the fall out, the moment when she asked about Cas.
"So who was that boy," she began, leaning over the table and turning to him; this was it: "in the cafeteria? You were holding hands with him. Is he mentally retarded or something?"
Dean shook his head, laughing to himself. "You really are ignorant, aren't you?" he muttered to his paper, trying to pay attention to the teacher as her fingers wound their way up his arm.
"But wait," she whispered. "I know him, so he can't be mentally retarded, because I've actually talked to him, and we all know cheerleaders don't talk to the bottom bunk." She was grasping his shoulder now, leaning towards him to whisper into his ear. "Are you gay, Dean?"
Dean swallowed hard, looking down at his paper in silence.
"C'mon, Dean, you can tell me… maybe I can help you find the way out of the darkness." she was practically on top of him; Dean begged Mr. Crowley to turn around from the blackboard, to snap at Ruby to get off of Dean, to get out of the room, to stop thinking herself so fucking holy that she think she could always get her way. Dean nodded, looking at her.
"Yes, Ruby, I am gay, actually, and a few sessions of being harassed by you probably made it worse. So lay off, because I'm really starting to get pissed, and I don't think your boyfriend would like to hear about how you fuck me with your eyes every day, now would he?" Ruby's eyes widened, and she backed up, sitting straight up in her seat. She fixed her skirt, trying to make herself look presentable. The class was almost over when she finally glanced over at him, anger in her dark eyes, brown hair flinging from side to side as she shook her head.
"Shame," said Ruby. "It would've been great to watch someone fight over me. No it'll be great to watch someone beat the shit out of your faggotty ass." The bell rang, and she bounced out of her seat, waving her fingers gently in farewell. Dean's hands shook; what did she mean? Was his option to turn her down, to tell the truth… was it not an option anymore? Did he have to keep it all to himself, or was he allowed to be gay; Castiel said it would all be okay, but would it?
The day was over: kids were filing in distinct lines from their classrooms to their locker, and Dean was no different. He paced uniformly with the other students: head down, feet shuffling, headphones casting loud rock into his head. He maneuvered his way to his locker, but found difficulty opening it when a large fist slammed into it.
"Heard you're gay, new boy. Not smart, not smart at all." the tall jock dragged his fist from Dean's locker to his face, a straight shot to the nose resulting in a horrible crunching sound. Dean cried out in pain, grabbing his face and buckling over, blood pouring from his nose. The kid – Dean thought his name was Gordon Walker – put his knee into Dean's stomach, knocking him over. A semi-circle of students had gathered around, cheering each time Gordon punched, kicked, or somehow injured Dead. He was taken so off guard that Dean didn't even have time to fight back, all he could do was lay in a fearful ball and pray Gordon didn't bash his skull in with his steel toed boot.
"Get out of here, you invalids," said a soft voice from behind the group. The voice, though quiet and gentle, carried waves of panic through the group. "Out! Now!" Students scrambled, tripping over each other in an attempt to leave before caught by Mr. Deethe. Gordon stayed only long enough to give Dean a couple of solid kicks in the ribs – he scurried to leave, but not soon enough. Deethe's long, wiry fingers curled around Gordon's hefty forearm. "You will march yourself directly to the office and sit there until I come for you, do you understand, Mr. Walker?" Gordon nodded, fear in his eyes. "I will be there in thirty minutes, if I come and find you not present, then you will pay for it in class tomorrow." There was a moment of silence while Gordon picked up his bag and walked swiftly in the direction of the office. Dean moaned in pain, gripping his sides and struggling to rise.
"Don't you dare." said Mr. Deethe, lowering to the ground. "Standing is only going to make it worse, so don't you dare. The nurse is on her way – I know she's not very helpful, but she has a first aid kit and can probably stop this bleeding before we have to hospitalize you." Dean nodded, sinking back into a curled up position on the ground. Deethe sat beside him, hand pressed lightly into his back. Footsteps streaked up the hall, the squealing of rubber on linoleum tile signaling a student. Dean looked up; Cas and Meg were running towards them, tears streaking down Castiel's face and Meg sporting a very solid black eye and split lip.
"Dean!" said Castiel, sliding to his knees; he pulled Dean into his lap carefully, rubbing his back and talking quickly. "When you and Mr. Deethe weren't in his classroom like you said you'd be at the end of lunch, I started to get worried. I walked around the whole school, and finally I saw Meg beating the shit out of Ruby, and I figured Gordon had already gotten to you; but I knew you could fight, so I stayed with Meg to make sure she was okay. Then some kid told me you were in bad shape, so I came running down here to find you. Looks like we missed Gordon though… fuck are you okay?" Dean laughed, squinting up at him through one bruised eye.
"Where's Sammy?" asked Dean quietly, shifting to a sitting position. Deethe glared at him, then the arrival of the nurse made his face correct itself.
"Library with Jess. I didn't want to scare him, so I'll go get him." said Meg.
"No, no. Let him be. He likes that girl a lot, I don't want to ruin that." replied Dean, grabbing Meg's wrist to stop her from leaving. Meg smiled at him, hands shaking. "If you need to go home, Meg, you can go." Meg looked at him, cocking her head to the side before shaking it.
"No, Dean. You need friends. So I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, and you can damn near forget trying to get me to leave." she replied softly, stroking his hair. The nurse assessed his bruises and batterings, leaving him with an urgent advisement to go to the hospital because he probably had a broken nose.
"Well, looks like my work here is done. You can officially go home and I will help you with your exam next week, Dean." said Mr. Deethe. He rose, helping Dean up as well. "Have a good weekend, Mr. Winchester; try not to get yourself killed again." He turned, walking back towards the office. Dean laughed slightly, shaking his head.
"Well, looks like you survived the first round of homophobic maniacs, Dean," said Cas softly. "Still scared?"
"Not a bit." he replied, and he leaned down to kiss Cas: a long, lingering kiss that made his heart race and lips tingle. They parted, smiling at each other. "Not even a little."
A/N: Okay, I know it's been a really long time since I've posted anything but my internet was down for like almost a week :[ So I'm back now, and here to stay! Yay! Hope you liked this chapter – if you did please leave a review, favorite, follow, or all of the above! I love you guyyysss