What the hell was he going to do? Why did he always fuck up everything? What on earth possessed him to kiss Cas? He stared up at his bedroom ceiling and wished he had a damn time machine. He'd go back and punch his past self in the face for even thinking about kissing Cas. Dorothy knocked on Dean's door.

"Are you home?" she asked through the door. Dean opened it to see Dorothy leaning against the wall in the hallway.

"Hi," he said. Dorothy sighed, "What are you doing here, Dean? It's Wednesday."

"So?"

"School?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Can't," he said. He noticed how tired his roommate looked. He opened his door wider.

He asked, "Wanna sit down?" She nodded hesitantly and sat on his bed.

"So, why aren't you at school?" Dean asked, joining her on his memory foam mattress.

"Sick," she said, "Charlie made me stay home. What's your real excuse?"

"Didn't feel like going."

It wasn't a lie. He'd rather have watched his Impala get smashed all over again than face Cas at school after kissing him last night.

His phone rang from under his pillow. Dean grabbed it, saw who was calling, and popped the battery out. If he wanted to talk to Cas, he would've gone to school. Dorothy raised her eyebrows at him and his cell phone battery.

"Long story," he said.

She nodded and said, "You got any plans today?" He shook his head. After ruining the best friendship he'd ever had, Dean just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep. Cas probably hated him by now, anyway. He'd taken their friendship and broke it in half. Why did he have to break everything? He was so stupid.

"Want to binge watch two seasons of Sherlock with me?" Dorothy asked, "Charlie keeps telling me that I have to experience it, and I have nothing better to do."

He shrugged, "Sure."

She smiled and coughed into her elbow harshly.

"Want some hot chocolate?" he asked her. She nodded and followed him out to the TV and the couch. He tossed her a blanket and made some hot chocolate.

After the gripping cliffhanger of season one, Dean also made some popcorn and more hot chocolate. It bothered Dean how much Sherlock and John reminded him of him and Cas.

At the end of watching Sherlock for nine hours straight, Dean, Dorothy, Charlie, and Sam all stared at the TV in awe. Charlie and Dorothy were holding hands.

Sam sat back and said, "Well, shit."

"What the hell?" Dean said, getting up from the couch to stretch, "How could he have survived that? How could they just end the season like that?"

"John should at least know what's going on," Sam said, shooting Dean a look.

"What?" Dean asked. He hadn't done anything to Sam to deserve a look like that.

"Some of us went to school today, Dean," Sam said evenly, "Cas says hi, by the way."

Oh.

How much did Cas tell Sam?

Charlie and Dorothy looked between them.

"What happened with Cas?" Charlie asked.

Dean shook his head, "I don't want to talk about it." He was so stupid. Dean retreated to his room. Sam followed him.

"Leave me alone, Sam," Dean warned. He really didn't want to talk about it. And the only person he wanted to talk to would never look at him the same way again. Those blue eyes would haunt him.

Sam said sternly, "You have to talk to him."

"And say what?" he asked. He had a momentary lapse in judgment? He handled his feelings that he hadn't told Cas about in the worst way possible? Yeah, that'd go over well.

"I'd start with the truth," Sam said, "Seriously. Call him, text him, I don't care. Just do something."

Dean sighed, "I'll do something." It was quite unfortunate that he had no intention of doing anything other than avoiding Cas for as long as possible. He supposed that counted as something.

Sam fixed him with a hard stare.

"You'd better," he said, "Cas is my friend, too, Dean, and he deserves better than this."

Dean nodded. He knew that. Cas deserved better than Dean. He deserved so much more. He should never have kissed Cas. They could still be friends, Cas could find someone worth his affection, and Dean could be happy for him. Kissing Cas shot that all to hell. Now, Cas would know friendship wasn't enough. He'd want nothing to do with Dean. At best, things would be unbearably awkward and die that way.

And the next day at school, he was right. He wouldn't have gone to school, but Charlie all but physically dragged him to campus. His first class wasn't too bad. Cas didn't take Criminology, so it served as a good hiding spot for an hour and a half.

Afterward, the school was a minefield. Cas was waiting for him outside of his class. Luckily, Den saw him through the window before walking out the door and managed to duck and hide in a throng of chattering students.

This wouldn't have been necessary if he hadn't been so fucking stupid. And the kiss was so intimate. Dean couldn't shut his eyes without feeling Cas' lips against his. If he had just kept it a small, closed mouth, peck of a kiss, he could probably have gotten away with saying it was because he was drunk. There was no way that lie would stand given how it all went down. He hadn't even been that drunk.

His next class was more interesting. Balthazar stood outside the classroom door like a sentinel. He was definitely there on Cas' orders. Dean tried to slip passed him next to another student, but Balthazar grabbed Dean's jacket and stopped him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Balthazar asked quietly.

Dean answered, "Going to class." Maybe playing innocent would work.

The blonde man pulled him down a hallway and asked sharply, "What the hell do you think you're doing with Castiel?"

"We're just friends," Dean said.

Balthazar rolled his eyes, "Friends don't dodge each other like bloody pansies. Now, you're going to tell me precisely why Cassie would have me tailing you and ditching my own classes without even saying why."

"He didn't tell you?" Dean asked. Of course not. He was probably ashamed of the whole thing. Dammit, Dean really knew how to screw things up.

"No, he didn't," Balthazar snapped, "But he's been walking around like someone hit his puppy with a car. Tell me what the fuck is going on."

Dean sighed, "I can't talk to him."

"Why the bloody hell not?"

Dean knew there were only two outcomes from what he did. Either he'd be with Cas or he wouldn't. If he wasn't with Cas, they wouldn't be able to be friends, not after how stupid Dean was, and that would hurt too much. But if by some miracle, Cas did have feelings for Dean, and they would be together, it would only be a matter of time until Dean did something stupid again. He'd hurt Cas, and that would be utterly unbearable.

"Because I fucked everything up," he answered. He practically ran down the hall to get away from Balthazar. Unfortunately, his professor had a come-on-time-or-not-at-all policy, and he needed a place to hide. Any minute now, Sam or Gabriel would corner him and interrogate him about Cas. He needed to go somewhere that no one would ever expect him to be.

Ten minutes later, he walked passed the reference desk in the library. Quickly, he headed to the third floor. The first floor was mainly a lounge area, definitely not secluded enough. The second floor was a large computer lab that almost every student used. He'd be an open target. But the third floor. The third floor was the archives and some old newspapers. It was always a ghost town. No one would ever think to look for him there. He could kill an hour sitting around the archives. Maybe he'd take a nap.

As he got to the silent, empty floor, Dean realized a nap was just not going to happen. In the glass room that was the archives, there was Cas pouring over a box of old documents with his head in his hands. He carefully turned over each page, but his heart wasn't in it. He must have read the same aged letter ten times, getting more frustrated with each flip. Cas was so intent on his work, Dean didn't even worry about being seen.

Cas was just completely and effortlessly beautiful, so Dean watched him work. Cas' black hair and his pale kin were striking. His hair being so messy only added to the effect. His soft lips moved in small whispers as he read and reread the document. His hands were so very careful with the paper, like he was touching it with the utmost reverence. His focus was nothing short of endearing. He was perfect. Dean knew without having been to the archives before that this was Cas' element.

Every instinct told Dean to walk in there and tell Cas everything. He couldn't stand not talking to him. At the very least, he could apologize for that kiss again. But at the same time, he didn't want to disturb his friend. Or hurt him more.

Suddenly, an alarm on Dean's phone went off to remind him of a test in his history class. Shit. Cas looked up from the archives at the sound, seeing Dean for the first time. He hurried out of the room to where Dean was standing. But Dean couldn't talk to him. He ran from the third floor, from the library, and from Cas. This was not one of his prouder moments.

He couldn't afford to miss the history class, and Cas was undoubtedly going to be there. This would be one of the trickiest evasive maneuvers he'd ever pulled. But he had to do it.

There were only two ways this could end. Either they'd be together or they wouldn't. Either option would be painful for someone. So, until he found a new ending, he had no intention of talking to Cas. If he was being an ass, fine. At least he was hurting Cas now instead of later when more feelings and damaged would be involved.

He made sure to sit in the front between a girl he didn't know and a wall. Cas didn't like talking in class, but Dean didn't want to chance sitting next to him anyway. This was sparing Cas pain in the long run. It was for the best.

After probably failing the test, Dean rushed out of the classroom, ran passed a confused Cas, and left the campus.

He heard Cas shout after him, "Dean, wait!"

But he didn't.

And when Cas showed up at Dean's apartment looking for him, he hopped down the fire escape instead of facing his friend. He would hurt Cas either way. And he just couldn't deal with that.

So, he didn't.