A/N: Thanks for the reviews and things, folks, I really really really really really (etc) appreciate it! Here's the next chapter, I know it's short, but I hope it's good enough to tide you over for a bit. Things are a bit hectic on the home front right now, so I'm not sure when I'll next be able to finish/post the next chapter. Once again, no ownership of anything here, etc, aaaaand enjoy!
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It had been a week since the official start of summer vacation, and so far, it was nothing like the glorious freedom the boys had imagined when speeding away from school in the Impala.
Michael had intensified his (usually futile) efforts to keep Cas away from Dean, and this time, had somehow managed to keep Cas locked up for the past week. Tonight, however, was different: Cas had managed to get a message to Dean via the Roadhouse to say he'd be able to get away after ten. The two weren't exactly used to spending more than a day apart, and Dean was anxious to see his friend; his eyes kept darting to his watch and his leg jiggled nervously as he waited.
He had parked the Impala under the third streetlamp on the street two blocks east of the Milton house, the same meeting place they'd been using since middle school. The only difference between those days and now was that, instead of wandering the suburbs by foot like the pair of conspicuous young hooligans they were, Dean drove them out to the park to wander around there like the pair of conspicuous young hooligans they were.
Cas was almost twenty minutes late.
Which, okay, yeah, happened, because it wasn't like it was exactly easy to plan sneaking out, but usually Cas was pretty good about this, or about at least getting him some kind of signal or something. Dean was starting to consider breaking their avoid-Michael's-wrath-at-all-costs rules and driving slowly around Cas' block when the Cas in question appeared from nowhere to yank open the passenger door and fling himself into Dean's car.
"Dude – " Dean choked out in relief once he got over the scare, but Cas cut him off.
"Yes, I'm late, I apologize, please, let's get out and to the park before we have actual conversation because I need quiet for a few minutes." Cas' eyes were closed tight, and he was doing that thing with his hands he did when he was stressed – fingertips pressed together and steepled under his chin. Dean thought he looked sober, though Cas' expression said he'd rather not be.
Instead of replying, Dean just nodded and put Baby in gear. They drove in silence, without even the radio to accompany the rumble of the engine, which only made Dean antsy. Cas, however, seemed to relax as they drove on, his hands slowly coming to rest in his lap, his eyes opening to fix on the darkened Lawrence scenery, such that it was. Though Dean kept shooting concerned glances his way, Cas never looked back at him, instead resting his forehead on the cool glass.
True to his (unspoken) word, Dean didn't say anything else until they had gotten to the park, hiding the car in their usual space beneath an old weeping willow. He waited for Cas' cue to get out of the car, to start walking the familiar path, to settle their strides in rhythm together. Even then, he waited for Cas to speak first. It took a few minutes, and it was pretty much what Dean expected, given Cas' behavior when he first got in the car.
"Michael was yelling again tonight," Cas said quietly, staring straight ahead. Michael yelling was apparently something that happened pretty often, though Dean had never seen it. The thing about Michael Milton was that he managed to look and act like a charming, calm, and reasonable pillar of the community in public – even when going on about his stupid religious and political prejudices, hell, even when talking to Dean – but was a harsh, and rather loud, tyrant in private. And that was what Cas couldn't handle, more than anything else – more than the bigoted tirades, more than his mother's addiction, more than the restrictions on his free time. Cas hated yelling, hated conflict (why he was friends with Dean was anyone's guess).
"I'm sorry, man," Dean replied, just as softly. It was really all he could say. "It's quiet out here, though."
Cas nodded, and they walked again in silence for a little while, until Cas took the conversation in a completely unexpected direction.
"Graduation was today." Cas' voice sounded even lower than normal.
"Really?" Dean asked when it became clear that Cas wasn't going to continue, mostly for lack of anything else to say. Cas nodded, pulling a battered pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. Dean opened his mouth to snap, but Cas just looked at him like – like it was the end of everything and this was his last request or something, it was pathetic. But it shut Dean up, so. They walked along like that, Dean silent and Cas smoking, almost peaceful but not quite. It was nearly a full minute before anything else was said.
"Gabriel and Anna should have walked across that stage." Cas' tone was tense, a thin layer of sorrow over barely concealed anger, and rough from the smoke. "They should have walked – Anna should have been valedictorian and given a speech, and Gabriel should have flipped off Principal Henrikson after getting his diploma. I should have been cheering them on with Mom.
"They should have been there. Here."
Dean didn't know what to say. He never did. He missed Gabe and Anna (well, mostly Anna, who he had once dated briefly; Gabe, not so much), but he didn't miss them like Cas did. And Dean's missing them was mostly drowned out by how friggin pissed off it made him that they had ditched their brother to the shitshow that was the Milton family. So whenever Cas got like this, missing them, torn between wanting them back and hating them for being gone, Dean just didn't know what to do. Nothing he could say would make it any less shitty, he knew, so he settled for the next best thing – distraction.
"Yeah, well, think of it this way," he said lightly, nudging Cas' shoulder with his own. "This time next year, it'll be us walking the stage. You can make a speech and I'll flip off Henrikson in Gabe's honor, and then we can go on our merry way and never see Lawrence High again."
Cas snorted. "I suppose." He kicked a stone from the path along ahead of them as they walked and took a long drag from his cigarette. "That's actually what Michael has been keeping me so busy with this past week – college nonsense." Dean looked up sharply – Cas had never mentioned college before – but Cas just stared at the rock he was kicking. "He seems to be under the impression that I'm going to be off to some kind of Ivy League education next fall."
"Well, aren't you?" Dean prodded, because, yeah, they'd never talked about it, but he had always assumed that Cas was college-bound. Unlike Dean. Unless – "What, do you not have the grades anymore or something?"
"Of course I have the grades, I have not yet fallen so low in my drugged haze, Dean." Cas sounded almost amused, which was a good sign, Dean thought. Better than he usually reacted when Dean brought up, or even alluded to, Cas' burgeoning substance abuse habits. "Besides, I have to keep my grades up unless I want my favorite uncle to get even more fascist about my free time."
"So why don't you think you're going to college?" he pressed.
"What are your plans for after graduation, Dean?" Cas shot back. Totally not fair.
"Come on, no changing the subject, I asked first – "
"Humor me," Cas said flatly in his don't-argue-with-me-Dean-Winchester voice.
Dean groaned and wandered off the path to flop on the ground; Cas paused to drop and stomp out his cigarette before he followed. The grass felt nice, even if it was damp with dew; cool and fresh after a long, hot day at the start of what promised to be a hot summer. The night was clear and moonless, and the stars were bright. He and Cas had both laid down the same way, with their arms folded up behind their heads, and their elbows pressed together. Dean took comfort in the point of contact as he gave his answer.
"I mean, I dunno, I haven't really thought about it." He could practically hear Cas raising his eyebrows, and he rolled his eyes. "Okay, so I have, I just – I'll probably stay here, you know, work for Bobby until Sam goes to school, and then figure something out."
"What about your Great American Road Trip?" Cas asked. "You know, the one you've been talking about since we were about twelve years old."
"I don't know, man," Dean sighed in frustration. "I want to, but – I mean, I could, I've thought about it, I could if I came back every month or two to work some and check up on Sam, but I think the real epic road trip's gonna have to wait 'til after Sammy heads off to college himself." Dean turned his head to frown at his friend. "What, you honestly thought I was just gonna up and leave, leave Sammy with Dad? I'm not gonna just ditch my family, Cas, I'm not – "
Dean cut off abruptly when he realized what he had been about to say, but he saw Cas' jaw tense and knew that Cas had heard it anyway.
"Look, I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean – "
"No, you're right. You're not Anna and Gabriel. I should have known you'd do right by your brother." Cas turned his head so he was facing Dean, and his face was softer than Dean expected, not as bitter. In fact, Dean noted with surprise, there were traces of a smile around his eyes. "There's a reason I've always preferred your company to that of my family, Dean, and it is largely because they are, in Gabriel's words, a great big bag of dicks."
Dean had to snort a laugh at that, mostly because it was true, but also because Cas using any Gabe-ism was always hilarious. They both went back to staring at the stars in silence for a few minutes, but then Cas spoke up again.
"Actually, the reason why I asked about the road trip was – I don't think I want to enter the wonderful world of post-secondary education just yet, and I want –" Cas cut off, hesitant, seemingly unsure about how he wanted to phrase exactly what it was he wanted. "Dean, I think I would like to look for my father."
Dean's breath caught in his throat, and he rolled over onto his side to stare at Cas in disbelief. Cas' own eyes remained fixed on the sky.
"And I mean, I have no idea where he is, he could be in New Mexico on a tortilla for all I know, but I had wondered if maybe, if you wanted to road trip and didn't have a particular destination or agenda in mind, if perhaps you would like to combine the two endeavors." Cas was talking super-fast and slipping into that weird, formal way of yapping he used when he was nervous, and Dean could hardly believe what he was hearing.
"Let me get this straight," he said finally, when the crickets had gotten really unbearably loud. "You want to skip out on college – when you could basically have your pick of schools – you want to skip that, to come road tripping with me and look for your deadbeat dad."
"You know, I managed to make it sound much more glamorous, not to mention reasonable, in my head," Cas commented dryly. "Is that a yes?"
"Hell yeah, it's a yes, if you're sure. Just, like I said, we'd have to come back, to check on Sammy and stuff. But we can work that out." Dean laughed, because holy shit what an awesome idea. "Dude, you're gonna get sick of me, cramped up in the Impala all day long."
It was Cas' turn to laugh. "Dean, if I were going to get sick of you, I'm sure it would have happened a long time ago. Besides, this last week without you has been unbearable, how in the hell am I supposed to survive without you for an entire semester at a time?"
"Hear, hear."
But Cas suddenly turned serious, and turned to face Dean fully. "This is something we'll really do, right? Not just something two kids say they'll do and then forget about?"
"Yeah, Cas, 'course we'll really do it. I promise." The intensity of the question knocked the grin off of Dean's face.
"Shake on it," Cas said solemnly, extending the hand closest to Dean towards his face.
"Promise," Dean repeated in the same tone, grasping Cas' hand in his. Cas rolled back onto his back, practically grinning with relief, and Dean did the same. Somehow, though, their hands stayed clasped, and they lay like that, looking at the stars and talking about nonsense and about their future (because, Dean marveled, they had one now, they had a future after high school), for another hour or two before heading home.
Serious as their promise had been, Dean couldn't keep the smile off his face all night. It was the best they had been in a long while, him and Cas, the most right things had been between them in a long while. Cas only smoked the one cigarette, they didn't argue about the alcohol or the drugs, they didn't even talk about their family bullshit. It was just them, and it was great. Almost too good to be true.
So really, when everything went to shit shortly afterward, Dean guessed he really should have seen it coming.
