Castiel stared at the back of his office door, hands idly playing over the edge of his desk.
He already missed it.
He couldn't begin to comprehend how he could get out of this.
He had fallen for a patient, and had let himself become utterly happy. And now he was paying for it. He heaved a sigh and paced from his desk to his bookcase and back again, purely to express some of the restless energy that was boiling up inside him. He looked at the miniature clock on his desk, and sighed again.
He had been told he would be meeting his Peace Officer at nine. He had, in a fit of restless anxiety, gotten to the office at half eight. It was still only ten to nine, but time had begun to stretch and warp awkwardly, so that he felt it had been an hour.
A day.
A year.
He stared around the office, his things, the mementos and flaws and a billion other silly memories that made it his. The scuff mark on the wall from an intense anger management session. The burn mark on the desk where an OCD patient dropped his cigarette lighter. The stain on his carpet where he dropped his food when Becky caught him fantasizing over Dean.
He would have cried, but he was so washed out. He felt empty. Scared. Nauseous.
Why wasn't he allowed to be happy?
He had never been happy, never been truly, ultimately happy, before Dean. And then he was. He was blissful. And now someone, some cruel person, had decided to take it away from him. And he didn't think there was a single thing that could have made it better.
He sat, perched on his desk, and watched the seconds tick by.
After what seemed like an eternity, there was a knock at the door, and Castiel stood, ready to meet the Peace Officer.
(-*-)
The lecture hall was pretty crowded. Students attended Crowley's lectures because they were terrified of what he would do if they didn't. Nine times out of ten he didn't even take the register, but no one wanted to be the fool who tried to play him. Crowley was unpredictable, and could be very petty if he chose to be.
So the lecture hall was full, tiered rows of seats hat backed away like an amphitheatre, with people taking notes and not daring to let their attention slip.
"Now, I know a lot of you might have found this a hard concept to grasp," Crowley said, eyes skimming over the crowd, "and I know how helpful it is to have the lecture's slides on the college intranet. However, I also know that if you couldn't grasp this then you have no chance of passing the finals and I believe in survival of the fittest. So get out of my lecture hall and go back to killing of your brain cells with the prohibited pleasure of your choice."
The students all got up and left, as eager to be gone as Crowley was for them to leave.
One by one everyone filed out, leaving only Crowley, and one dark figure at the back of the class. Crowley raised an eyebrow.
"Class is over, young man."
The figure didn't move.
"OI!" He tried again, "GET UP. AND GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM."
"We need to talk." The figure growled, finding his feet and moving towards the front of the class. Crowley changed tone.
"Dean. What a pleasant surprise. And what, exactly, do we need to talk about?"
Dean didn't stop walking when he got to the front of the class. He carried on, grabbing Crowley by the throat and shoved him back against the blackboard.
"What did you do to Cas?"
"Do?"
"What, you can't stand seeing him happy with or without you, you think you've got the right to tell the authorities?"
"Dean?" Crowley croaked, prizing Dean's hand away from his oesophagus. "Am I really the type of person you can see running to the rule book?" He cleared his throat, rubbing at his neck as he pushed past Dean and gathered up his notes. "Honestly, if you only used that brain of yours for something other than hooking up or the price of beer."
"So you didn't file the complaint?"
"About Castiel's sordid little romance with you? No, frankly I hadn't even thought of him for the last few weeks. I'm negotiating a slight change in my career path." Crowley picked up his briefcase, and shot Dean another grin. "Sorry to bring down your justice crusade and all. How did therapy work for you?"
"Yeah…" Dean nodded, caught off guard. "It worked great. I'm out now."
"Ah, congratulations. May I recommend the Devil's Doorway on 67th street if you're ever in need of a night out. I'm a shareholder."
Crowley left, and Dean looked around the lecture hall, trying to get a handle on his thoughts and wondering if it would be as easy to sneak out as it was to sneak in.
After a while, his phone rang.
"Yeah?"
"Dean," Castiel's voice made Dean's stomach lurch. "I need to see you. I have news."
(-*-)
Dean had never made it to Castiel's apartment in less time.
"What's up?" Dean said, before, Castiel had even opened the door. Castiel grabbed Dean's arm and led him inside, dragging him over to the couch.
"It was Ruby. Garth, my Peace Officer, he told me it was Ruby so I could vouch for my treatment of her. He said he'd need to talk to someone to be my character witness so I gave him Becky's details and you won't believe it, Dean!" Castiel sat Dean down and sat opposite him on the coffee table, holding his hands so tightly Dean thought his fingers might fall off.
"What, believe what?"
"Garth is Becky's boyfriend."
"I thought Becky was with Chuck?"
"No, Becky's not monogamous!" Castiel said this as if he was claiming the winning lottery numbers. "She's been seeing Garth and Chuck. Alternating."
"And that's… good?"
"Yes!" Castiel grinned. "Garth wants to win out Becky's affection. Wants to be her only boyfriend. He's told me how to win the trial."
"Trial, woah, there's a trial?"
"There has to be, it'll be a small… only in front of the board, but that's the thing… I've got to get a drink, would you… do you want one?" Castiel stood to leave, but Dean pulled him down.
"The trial, Cas, what about the trial?"
"Ruby filed the complaint about herself. She claims that I made sexual advances towards her, and refused to see her for sessions when I turned her down."
"Bitch."
"Yes, I agree, but that's easily disproved. I have Becky as a character witness, and I just need one other person to testify that I am gay and have no interest in her, and they'll drop the whole case."
"That easy?"
"Yes. And, um…" Castiel stood again, not waiting this time before he wandered off to the kitchen. Dean followed him.
"And?"
"Well, the thing is, I could ask Gabriel but I'd really rather not. He doesn't know anything about this whole mess and I don't particularly want him to."
"So who'd be your other witness?"
Castiel busied himself with pouring out orange juice, turning his back on Dean.
"Cas?"
"I… I'd understand if you weren't comfortable… It's… it's still a new side of your personality, being open about it at, at this stage…"
Dean stepped back, leaning against the door frame.
"You want me…"
"It doesn't have to be you, it could be Gabriel." Castiel hurried over to Dean, gripping one hand in his and resting his free hand on Dean's neck. "I could even swallow my pride and ask Crowley to testify, but…"
"But he's not going to be giving you favours any time soon," Dean said, an edge of guilt about him.
"So you see the problem?" Castiel stared at Dean, looking and sounding as if this was the worst position he could be in. Dean could see the problem.
"I don't know, Cas, it's… That's pressure on me, you know?"
"I understand, Dean, of course I do," Castiel nodded, kissing Dean on the cheek. "I don't except you to answer any time soon. The hearing is January thirtieth. That's three weeks, Dean, and if you're not completely comfortable I won't make you do it."
"Who would you get instead?"
Castiel patted Dean's arm and walked back over to the counter to get his juice.
"I'll find someone. Did you want a glass, or..?"
"No, thanks, I…" Dean gestured vaguely towards the door, backing out of the room. "I just… need some space. I'll, uh, I'll call you later?"
"Ok," Castiel nodded, mimicking Dean's wave as he watched the man go. He sat down at the kitchen table, and rubbed a hand over his face. So much for the happier with Dean theory.