Author's Note: Thank you guys for all of the nice and interesting reviews as well as all of the favorites and follows. They honestly mean the world to me! To girlreadsalot: Thank you for reviewing and I know the last chapter was really freaking long and I had originally planned for it to be A LOT shorter but it didn't really turn out that way in the end (I tend to ramble a lot when I write. This being the perfect example). I tried to make this chapter shorter (failing miserably, by the way) and this may be one of my favorite ones so far since it gives you unexpected answers and finishes off with a cliff hanger (It's my evil plot to make you stick around for the next chapter) so I hope you guys like this. But anyway, carry on reading! Important Side Note: This takes place a month or so after the last chapter.

"Dean, wake up! It's time to go to school!" Sam's obnoxiously loud voice ran throughout the house and blasted through Dean's eardrums.

Dean groaned and buried his head deeper into his pillow, "No, I'm sick…I think I need complete and total bed rest for the next ten months until the next summer vacation." He tried to drift back into pure sleeping bliss but the thud of footsteps getting increasingly louder kept him somewhat conscious. He heard his bedroom door slam open and he didn't even have to crack one eye open to know who it was. "Dean, seriously, I don't want to be late."

He sighed as he reluctantly opened his eyes and saw his brother standing beside his bed in his usual dorky attire, "Sammy, relax. It's just high school, not one of your freaking dance recitals. They really don't care if you're late." He closed his eyes again and relaxed before he added, "Who's your first period anyway?"

"Mr. Azazel."

Dean's eyes snapped open and he sat abruptly at the name, "Oh shit."

Sam's eyes got as wide as saucers, "What's wrong?"

"Dude, he is going to crucify you if you're late on the first day. Learned that the hard way, My Friend."

Sam's mouth fell open, "W-What?"

Dean couldn't hold back his amused chuckle as he got out of bed and threw on a plain black tee-shirt that smelled (mostly) clean, "I'm just messing with you, Sammy. Lighten up." He paused for just enough time for the tension to leave Sam's shoulders before he added, "He'll only lock you out of the room if you're not in there on the dot." The way Sam's slightly relaxed expression turned into complete and total terror as he bolted out of Dean's room to get everything ready was almost enough to make him excited to go back to school just to watch his brother scramble around in the hallways and actually believe every lie Dean tells him (but he wasn't kidding about Mr. Azazel locking you out if you're not in class on time. That guy's a total dick). But of course, that small fleeting positive emotion was soon demolish once he remembered he had to pretend like he actually gave damn about anything (school related, that is). Even though Sammy had big dreams about leaving this town in the dust for something much greater, Dean wasn't that stupid. Sure, he had no doubt that Sam could do it (the kid's as smart as Dean is good-looking), but Dean knew he was just kidding himself if he ever believed that he could do anything more in life than fix cars at his Uncle Bobby Garage Shop and eat his mom's apple pie until he dies (sounds like a pretty good lifestyle to him).

Dean pulled on a pair of blue jeans and made his way down the stairs. He wished his mom was home so they would've had an actual breakfast but she pulled an extra shift at the Harvelle Roadhouse to earn a few extra bucks so Dean and Sam were on their own for today. Dean swooped up an already opened bag of Funyuns and started to eat while his younger brother darted around the house to try to get everything perfect for his first day of high school.

"Sammy, stop powdering your nose and come on!" Dean called out after him as Sam had moved into the bathroom for the fifth time.

"Bite me, Dean!" He heard Sam snap back but he did come out only a minute later.

Dean moved to the wall and grabbed his dad's old hunting jacket from the clothes rack, putting it on even though it was already a humid morning in the beginning of the month of August. Dean passed by Sam on his way to the door and threw him the bag of chips, "Don't forget to eat your vegetables, Sammy." Sam rolled his eyes and took only a couple chips before following Dean to the door. Ever since Dean got his license two years ago, his dad gave him his old '67 Chevy Impala and just rides carpool with Bobby to work, and Dean's been driving himself and Sam to school since then. But instead of dropping Sammy off at middle school this year, he gets to hang out with the big dogs and endure the worst four years of his life.

Sam closed the door behind him and went to climb into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean got into the driver's seat and started the car before turning the radio onto one of his favorite Led Zeppelin songs. Sam groaned in protest, "Can we please listen to music from this century?"

"House rules, Sammy," Dean answered cheekily as he pulled out of the driveway, "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole."

"You know," Sam drawled out, glancing over to him, "'Sammy' is a chubby twelve year old. It's just Sam now, okay?"

Dean snorted, "Well, look-y here, big shot high school student thinks he's Big Kahuna now."

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, "Just turn the greatest hits of mullet rock down and keep focused on the road."

Dean shrugged as he cranked his stereo all the way up, "Sorry, can't hear you. The music's too loud." Sam groaned again in embarrassment as his older brother belted out the lyrics to "Ramble On" with all his heart and soul.

The drive to school was filled with more mockery, insults, and death threats but that was always a normal ride for the Winchester family.

Look, Dean always loved to tease Sam A LOT, but when he saw his kid brother twisting and turning in his seat and chewing his bottom lip completely off as the Impala rolled to a stop in the school's parking lot, his voice softened as he bumped Sam's shoulder lightly, "Hey, don't worry about it. We have at least ten minutes left to get to Mr. Big Bad Wolf's class."

"It's not just getting there on time that's bothering me, Dean." Sam told him reluctantly, keeping his eyes firmly locked onto the dashboard to avoid Dean's gaze.

He sighed, "Then what's bothering you, Sammy?"

Sam hesitated but finally switched his gaze to Dean and asked quietly, "Is high school really that bad, Dean?"

Dean swallowed hard and began reluctantly, "No—"

"Don't lie to me, Dean. I'm not a little kid anymore." Sam cut him off, his green eyes flaring in annoyance and determination, "Mom and Dad can lie to me all they want, but not you."

He sighed miserably, "So you want the truth?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Dean said as he got out of the Impala and slammed the car door shut, Sam following suit, "High school sucks ass, Sam. It's full of fakes, liars, cheaters, and backstabbers that'll sell you out in a heartbeat just for the title of homecoming queen. The best thing you can do is keep your head down and don't trust anybody until I give them the green light."

Sam sighed as he and Dean walked side by side into the school building, "But what if—"

"Sammy, you follow my rules and you'll make it out alive, okay?" Dean interrupted abruptly as he started to fast walk, not wanting Sam to be late and endure the wrath from Mr. Stick Up His Ass that already has a particular hate for Winchesters (apparently, he used to date their mom, Mary, in high school until their dad, aka the high school drop out without a penny to his name, blew into town and "stole her away from him").

Sam scoffed as he and his brother dodged all of the bustling students racing to get to class on time, "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

Dean let out an exhausted sigh, starting to get sick of Sam's constant badgering, "Because I'm the oldest…which means that I'm always right."

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, "No, it doesn't."

Dean snorted as he took hold of his younger brother's wrist and started to lead him to Mr. Azazel's room, "Yeah, it totally does."

When they finally made it to their destination, Dean noticed Sam's overly neat and nerdy look and tsked as he had to ruffle his brother's mop of brown hair and untuck his shirt out of his pants, "Dude, did Mom lay this out for you?" When he saw Sam turned as red as a tomato, Dean groaned, "Seriously, do you want to be labeled as the Steve Urkel look-alike for the rest of the year?"

Sam shot him a dirty look and slapped Dean's hands away, "Shut up."

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, "Whatever, Poindexter. Just meet at the Impala right after the last bell so we can get the hell out of here as fast as we can, alright?"

Sam nodded and looked to the wall clock, his face instantly turning guilty as he glanced back at his brother, "Dean, I think I'm going to make you late."

"Nah, my homeroom is just down the hall." Dean lied effortlessly, knowing his first period classroom was actually on the whole other side of the school. Sam didn't look completely convinced but he didn't press him any further as he said goodbye to Dean and turned toward the door. He hesitated on touching the doorknob and for a moment Dean had thought Sam had just forgotten something (which sounded impossible because of the huge ass backpack he was hauling around because he insisted that "he was going to need all of it." Did Dean ever mention he was a typical freshmen?), but all thoughts of that were banished when Sam abruptly turned around and threw his arms around his brother, trapping him in a tight embrace. Dean rolled his eyes but wrapped his arms around his little twerp of a brother that was trying to ruin his fearful and bad boy reputation, "Sammy, what have I always told you about chick flick moments?"

Sam laughed as he removed himself from Dean, though there was still a twinkle of nervousness in his eyes, "You're a jerk, you know that?"

Dean sighed and shrugged, "Beats being a whiny little bitch." Sam tried to glare at him but his small smile gave him away as he reluctantly waved goodbye and disappeared into the classroom. Dean was determined not to break out into a goofy grin that wanted so desperately wanted to surface as he turned to the direction of his own classroom and took one step forward…then the bell rang. "Of course," Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "Because why would anything ever go right for me?" With a heavy sigh, Dean walked slowly down the now barren hallway and foolishly hoped his new teacher wasn't as much as a dickwad as everyone else claimed he was.

Turns out, his teacher's not; he's much, much worse.

Sure, Dean had expected for him to be maybe a little pissed off when he popped into the classroom and plopped down in an empty desk without even uttering a single excuse, but he didn't expect the asshole to throw him out of class seconds after he sat down! Stupid freaking Mr. Henriksen, Dean mentally cursed harshly through his haze of absolute fury and humiliation as he stomped down the hallway on his way to the principal's office, just because he used to be some big bad FBI agent doesn't mean he can be an unfair tyrant—

"On the first day again, Mr. Winchester?" The vice principal sneered as he passed Dean on his way out of the principal's office.

"Bite me, Zachariah." Dean hissed back before he even knew the words had slipped from his mouth. He can usually hold back his snippy remarks and malicious feelings for the little devil (though everyone in this naïve town think he's some sort of freaking angel), but he's too pissed off to enable his self-control. Zachariah noticed his off behavior and raised one of his big white eyebrows (one of the few places he actually has any hair) at him, "Bad tempered already, Dean? Funny, I always thought your period schedule started in the middle of the semester." Dean knew the old bastard was having fun berating him and it started to piss him off even further. He took a step forward and blocked the vice principal's path, "You know what, Zachariah? Fu—"

"Not finishing that sentence would be wise, Mr. Winchester." An unknown older female voice advised from inside the office, causing Dean to get slightly confused. Is Ms. Eve having a board meeting or something—

The question was banished from Dean's mind as a middle aged woman with dark auburn hair tied into a tight bun stepped out into the hall wearing a flashy metal nametag saying in big proud letters: NAOMI TAPPING, PRINCIPAL. Dean furrowed his brow and stepped away from Zachariah to further inspect the woman, "Um…who the hell are you?"

"Oh congratulations, Mr. Winchester," The woman, Naomi Tapping, said with a soft smile, though her eyes were as cold as the icy water Dean's mom pours on him when he won't get out of bed in the morning, "You will be the first student here to let me demonstrate our new policy."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "And what policy would that be, Sweetheart?"

"No cursing allowed," She answered before leaning into him and whispering darkly, "And it's Ms. Tapping to you, Dean." He felt a strange shot of fear run through him (which is sort of odd since the only girls who could do that is his own mother and the Harvelle women) and he felt himself nodding numbly. Ms. Tapping's smile reappeared (though this time it was more unforgiving and slightly fearful than from actual cheerfulness) as she opened the principal's door fully and looked back at him, her blue eyes twinkling with delight, "Why don't you come on in and let's talk about the little stunt that you pulled in American History today with Mr. Henriksen." Before Dean could even think for himself, his legs started moving robotically and forced him to sit down on one of the chairs facing her desk. He inspected the principal's desk and found that the name plaque that sat at the edge of the desk did not say 'Ms. Eve' like it was supposed to but instead read as 'Ms. Tapping' and Dean suddenly had the urge to vomit.

Ms. Eve had always tolerated Dean, even when he would sometimes be sent to her office a few times a day. Whenever he got into a fight, Ms. Eve would still follow her usual protocol and find out exactly what had happened before handing out certain punishments. She was also very protective of her students as though they were her own children and she would take on the King of Hell himself for them. Everybody in school adored Ms. Eve, even the troublemakers that she put into detention until five every day. So why the hell would she ever get fired?

"Where's Ms. Eve?" Dean asked bluntly, clinging to the hope that she was just at home sick and this Tapping chick was just a temporary substitute.

Ms. Tapping's smile that she gave Dean seemed way too happy as she brightly stated, "The board had ruled that Ms. Eve was playing extreme favoritism and being inappropriate to certain students, so she was let go." Dean had thought that it couldn't possibly get worse but of course this woman loved to prove him wrong, "Then I had graciously stepped down from my position as head chairmen and volunteered to take her place to finally start to whip this place into shape."

His throat suddenly felt like sawdust as he croaked out hesitantly, "That's just…awesome."

Ms. Tapping noticed his slightly upset expression and nodded condescendingly, "Yes, I would assume that you would feel that way considering you were among one of her favorite…students and did several certain favors for her—"

"I wasn't her sex slave if that's what you're fucking applying!" Dean hissed harshly in disgust, shivering at the thought of himself deflowering such a motherly figure.

"Mr. Winchester, what did I just tell you about cursing?" Ms. Tapping asked calmly, though her eyes were practically radiating off hatred as they stared hard at the disobedient eighteen year old boy in front of her, "And it isn't polite to interrupted someone when they are speaking—especially your elder and superior." Dean sighed and bowed his head in shame, hoping to pull off the guilt trip (though he's not sure this bitch even knows what sympathy is) and thought he was home free when she said, "Now, because this is just the first day, you're expecting me to let this one time slide, correct?"

"I'd like to hope so, Ma'am." Dean said with as much remorse as he could muster toward a cold hearted monster like that.

Ms. Tapping did a breathily chuckle as she sadly shook her head, "Then this is going to be a fresh breath of reality for you, Dean." She leaned in and narrowed her eyes at him, "I've read your file and it is quite inspiring for me to finally fix this run-down dumpster into a well-respected high class education center. So, because this is your first offense with me, I am going to go easy on you and just settle for only two weeks of morning and afternoon detention for three hours each."

Dean's mouth fell open and he honestly didn't believe her at first, "W-What?"

"You heard me, Mr. Winchester."

"B-But unlike you, I actually have a life outside this hellhole!" Apparently, Dean forgot to turn on his mental censor since almost everything he keeps thinking flows through his lips without direct permission and access. He is figuratively and literally totally fucked.

Ms. Tapping's fake smile finally dropped as did her false delighted tone, "Three weeks. Shall I continue to add more to your sentencing or do you have something else to say to me?" Gee, she makes it sound like this is a court hearing and she's the unforgiving judge and he's the no good criminal wanted for an illegally large amount of attitude.

Dean had to lock his jaw so more profanities won't escape his mind and slither out of his lips as he said through clenched teeth, "No, Ma'am."

Ms. Tapping smiled victoriously and nodded, "Good." As if on cue, the bell rang, signaling that first period was already halfway over. She sighed and straightened the papers on the desk, "You are excused, Mr. Winchester. When you finally arrive back at your classroom, I expect for you to get up in front of everyone and apologize to Mr. Henriksen as well as the students for your rude interruption and tardiness. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, Ma'am." Dean almost growled out the words, wishing he was some kind of secret X-Men member and make her head explode by just one glance. But before she could give him more detention for just looking at her menacingly (and he wouldn't doubt that she wouldn't considering all the stunts she's pulled today), Dean stood up and got the hell out of there.
Though as soon as he was a respectable distance away from her office, Dean hauled off and punched the nearby locker wall with all of his might. He started to regret it instantly when he felt his innocent fingers snap into unnatural positions (sometimes, Dean suspects he's too strong for his own good). Dean swallowed down his upcoming scream of pain and just popped his fingers back into place before reluctantly going back to his homeroom.

Something deep in Dean's gut warned him that this wouldn't be the last time he'd have to deal with Ms. Tapping, but he tried desperately to ignore the feeling and just pretended that his senior year was going to be just fine.

The only things he learned in first period is that the class is full of almost everyone he hates and Mr. Henriksen may hold a grudge against him for the remaining of this year. Second period with Ms. Tran was a bit better because at least Jo was in there with him, but it still doesn't change the fact that he's probably going to fail Geometry this year (he still can't understand what wise guy dedicated a whole class to learn fucking shapes). But other than Dean encountering more equally fucked up (meaning extremely difficult) classes, nothing else really interesting happened until lunch rolled around.

Dean entered the lunchroom with both his arms draped around Jo Harvelle and Charlie Bradbury (which was kind of ironic since Jo was like a little sister to him and he wasn't Charlie's…type). His day was a little bit more tolerable since the first period incident but he won't go as far as saying his first day back at school was going well either. He had thought lunchtime would a time for him to gather peace of mind but that was almost threatened when Alastair Damon, one of Dean's popular "friends," whistled from one of the tables, "Hey, Winchester, you're spot's over here, Man! Drop the Hos and hang out with the Bros for a change!"

Dean gritted his teeth in annoyance but just sent Alastair a lazy smile and sadly shook his head, "Sorry, I can't today. I promised my nerdy little brother I'd eat with him today." I may have offered to since I didn't want to get roped into hanging out with your dumb ass but that's irrelevant, Dean added cheekily in his mind. Alastair rolled his eyes but waved him off anyway to go round up the other idiots from his popular posse.

Okay, so there's something you need to know about the forever elusive Dean Winchester; in school, he has his real friends: Jo, Ash, Sam, Charlie, Lisa Braeden, and Benny Lafitte. Then he has his "friends": Bela Talbot, Alastair Damon, Lilith Boecher, and Ruby Cortese. The only two of Dean's real friends that are actually popular are Benny and Lisa; the rest are social rejects that Dean hangs out with in school from time to time. But hey, it's not Dean's fault he's the star player on Lawrence's basketball team and king of the school while his childhood friends are considered as outsiders. Though there is a hidden part of Dean's brain that secretly envies his friends that got the option to be themselves without anybody giving them crap for how they should act; if Dean did that, Lawrence's whole population of youth would rain down on him like a freaking hailstorm. They all fly over him like vultures, watching his every move just waiting for the perfect time where he finally slips up. Then they run and tell everyone they know for just two minutes of fame while Dean has to deal with it for the rest of his high school life. And some people actually believe high school is the greatest time of your life, Dean scoffed silently as the three made their way to their usual table that was pushed to the very right corner, allowing them to look over the whole lunchroom in obvious hatred and distaste. Dean sat in his usual spot and Jo took one of the seats beside, Charlie choosing to sit by Jo since she's her "bestest friend in the whole world" or something girly like that. Speaking of Charlie, Dean has to say that chick is quite a rare creature; she was only a junior like Jo but had better hacking skills than a sixty year old computer genius. She was also the biggest geek in every sense of the word. She loved everything science fiction, owned every playing card ever imaginable, could speak every alien language in pop culture, and ever LARPed on the weekends (and Dean has to admit, the very few times he was dragged into the beautiful fantasy world of Moondoor, he's had a lot more fun that he'd ever let on). He had met Charlie in Art two years ago when they were paired up for a project together and fell head over heels for her the second she suggested that they do a Braveheart collage. They've been best friends ever since (well, not as close as she is with Jo but that's just because those two have been friends since grade school).

"Jo, where's Ash?" Dean asked, thinking that the technology genius was always there before them.

Jo sighed, "I think he's still in the new computer lab messing with all of the teachers' personal computers."

Dean chuckled, "Well, I hope he added my personal request of pranking Mr. Henriksen by filling gay porn in all of his files"

Charlie rolled her eyes, "Dean, is that the best you can come up with? Come on, use a little imagination."

Dean scoffed and was going to reply when he saw Jo's famous brown bag of fresh (and by fresh, he means non-processed) goodies Ellen always gave her and Ash to eat instead of the school's "food."

"What did Misses H cook us this time?" Charlie asked with mild curiosity and extreme hunger.

Jo shrugged, "I don't know. I told her to surprise me this time." As soon as Dean saw what was in the bag when Jo dumped the items onto their table, he had to fight the urge to vomit.

"What kind of cold-hearted monster serves her daughter Brussels sprouts and organic toast?!" Dean asked in horror as if just being near the damn food products is already giving him a fatal disease.

Jo grimaced as she stared down the stupidly healthy meal, "My mother. Apparently, she's still mad about me dumping a whole pitcher of beer on Garth when he showed up at the Roadhouse a few days ago."

Charlie grinned and shrugged, "Hey, I thought it was funny."

Jo sighed and pushed them to the other side of the table, "It must be Sam's lucky day then." As if he heard them say his name, Dean's little brother finally entered the lunchroom…but he wasn't alone; there was a tall brunette that had on all of the latest fashion trends on at Sam's side. Wait a minute, is that—

"Is your little brother with Ruby?" Charlie voiced his thoughts in astonishment with a trace of disgust. Dean couldn't respond and just stared dumbfounded as he watched Sam say goodbye to the manipulative bitch and walked towards them. The clueless freshmen plopped down into the chair on the other side of Dean and smiled, "Hey, Guys."

"Hey, Guys?!" Dean hissed, finally recovering from his shock as he stared down his brother, "You walk in with the biggest slut in this school and all you have to say is 'Hey, Guys'?"

Sam furrowed his brow as his innocent green eyes reflected pure confusion, "What?" It then finally dawned on him who Dean was obviously talking about, "Wait, you mean Ruby?"

Dean rolled his eyes and replied sarcastically, "No, your imaginary girlfriend that's been whoring around with Caspar the Friendly Ghost. Who the hell do you think I'm talking about?"

"But Ruby's nice," Sam said strongly, starting to become defensive, "She's in my homeroom."

Dean sighed exhaustedly at his brother's naiveness, "Just trust me, Sammy, stay away from that bitch."

"But isn't she one of your friends?" Sam countered.

Dean hesitated before admitting slowly, "Well, I hang out with her from time to time but that's how I know that she's a lying bitch that likes to take advantage of good smart guys like yourself. Just don't hang around her—or any of my other popular sociopaths, for that matter—ever again, okay? You're just gonna get hurt."

Sam looked ready to argue but knew by the look in Dean's eyes that fighting about it won't change anything. So he just nodded reluctantly and put his focus on Jo's terrible food options, "What are these?"

"They're all yours, Kid." Charlie told him cheerfully and practically shoved them in his hands, "Eat it up before Dean-o starts foaming from the mouth for overexposure to his number one nemesis…vegetables!"

"Shut up, Charlene." Dean replied, though his slight mocking tone and amused glint in his eyes proved he wasn't serious.

Charlie smirked and stood up out of her chair, "Fine, Deanna, I guess I won't pick you up one of my Twinkies that I've hidden in my secret stash." Dean's eyebrows shot up as if saying 'Deanna? Really?' but then her words suddenly took meaning to him. He was tempted to accept defeat because of the angry roar coming from his stomach but decided to stand his ground as he stood up from his chair also, "Jokes on you then, Charles. I happen to actually like the school's toxic waste that's supposed to be a nutritious meal." Charlie rolled her eyes as she made her way out of the lunchroom to go to her "secret stash" (when in reality, it was just her Legend of Zelda backpack) while Dean went into the lunch line. Since they had arrived late at the lunchroom because they had to wait for Jo as she fruitlessly attempted to get out of a painful conversation with her future husband and current stalker named Garth, the line was almost vacant so it took no time for Dean to grab a small bag of Doritos and a carton of about to be spoiled milk (there was also meatloaf available as the main course but Dean was almost certain that it was a made out of the sort of meat that isn't legal to cook and consume in the U.S). But as he was walking back to his table with his eyes glued onto the milk's expiration date to check to see if it was even a liquid still, he smacked into a small figure and almost made them crashing to the ground if Dean's reflexes weren't as fast as they were as he managed to reach out and grab them to keep them from falling. He had first expected it to be a girl because of their petite frame and how they couldn't even weigh 100 pounds soaking wet, but was terribly mistaken when he found himself looking into a certain familiar pair of blue eyes. No, it couldn't be…

Just then, Dean was brought back into a vivid flashback:

It was the morning after he had discovered the chess piece and the touching note that stirred up unwanted feelings he so desperately tried to ignore. Dean had woken up early and threw on some clothes before slowly creeping down the stairs and scribbling a note to Sammy saying that he'd be out for awhile. Then, with chess piece in hand, Dean had made his way to the Impala and drove straight to Lawrence's run-down hospital. When he had gotten there, he had went straight into the building and directly into Cas' room, wondering what exactly he was going to say once he got there. Should I thank him for the touching gift or threaten to call the police for breaking in and entering? No, maybe I should just ask him to accompany me for a cup of coffee and simply talk to the guy for awhile…damn, even in my head that sounded gay.

With trembling finger tips, Dean swallowed down his overgrowing anticipation and slight nervousness as he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open…only to find two completely barren hospital beds. Dean furrowed his brow and explored deeper into the room, looking intently for any signs of Castiel's existence—chessboard, textbooks (yea, the kid even had freaking textbooks he liked to read over the summer "to quench his minds thirst for something interesting to mull over in his brain about while school was over" or some bullshit like that), even his weird leather back notebook Dean's caught him writing in a few times...but everything Dean had remembered Castiel had sitting beside his bed were now completely gone. Even his freaking hospital bed looked as untouched and uninhibited as ever.

"Cas?" Dean called out hopelessly, knowing he was the only person in the room but deciding to give it a shot anyway. Not even waiting for an answer he knew wasn't coming, Dean darted out of the room in panic and started looking furiously through the whole hospital (a little too the extreme but he's pretty sure he wasn't in a particularly sane state of mind right then) until he finally spotted Daphne and Missouri talking at the front desk. "Hey!" Dean called out as he bolted towards them with all his might. They both jerked their heads up at his extremely loud (and probably insane sounding) voice and frowned once they saw who it was.

"Mr. Winchester, do you want me to throw your sorry ass out right here, right now?" Missouri calmly demanded the sweaty boy that was gasping for air when he had finally reached them.

"N…No, Ma'am." He tried to say, breathing hard from his panicking haze that sent him running throughout the entire hospital.

"Then I'd suggest that you stop running around here like you just broke out of the psychiatric wing and show yourself out before you catch something in here."

Dean nodded and panted out, "Sorry…I was just…wondering…where Cas…was. He's not in…his room. I just want to tell…him something." Both of the ladies' faces fell and they averted their gazes, suddenly falling silent.

"He's um…not in our care anymore, unfortunately." Daphne told him hesitantly in a strange tone, causing Dean's stomach to churn.

He instantly thought the worst and his eyes widened, "What the hell happened? I-Is he okay?"

Missouri sighed, "No, it's nothin' like that, Sugar. His daddy just came home unexpectedly and pulled him out way earlier than we would have recommended."

Dean couldn't help but let out a breath of relief and smiled, "Damn, you guys almost gave me a heart attack. Besides, I thought he was almost over his Malaria."

Missouri's eyebrows shot up, "Malaria?"

"Yea, that's what was wrong with him, wasn't it?" Dean replied slowly, trying to jog her memory. Missouri shook her head and was about to reply when Daphne, who had a slight panicked look in her eye, beat her to it, "Yea, that was it. Isn't that right, Missouri?"

Dean smiled and nodded while Missouri eyed her like she was insane but finally replied, "Yes, that's right. I was thinkin' of another patient of mine." Daphne sent her a thankful smile and Missouri continued, "But even though Cas wasn't contagious anymore, we'd have liked to let him stay until his health was fully restored. But his daddy got back early from his business trip and checked him out two hours after you left."

"Oh," Dean utter out, disappointment starting to seep in his bones but he didn't understand why, "Do you have his address or something that I can use? I mean, I just want to thank him for the gift he had given me."

Daphne sighed sadly and shook her head, "I'm sorry, Dean, but we don't give out a client's information to just anyone. Besides, his father had taken him and the rest of his family on vacation somewhere for them to blow off some steam."

Dean nodded reluctantly, "Okay, but do you know when he'll be back?"

Missouri shook her head, "That's not our place to ask. However, we did tell him to call us if Castiel's Malaria started acting up again and he becomes a danger to himself or others."

Dean nodded painfully and cleared his throat, "Um…okay then. Call me if you guys find out anything else about Cas, alright?"

"We'll do our best."

It felt like Dean's heart had caved in on itself for some reason as he stumbled out of the hospital and numbly drove back to his house. When he had finally reached his home and walked into the kitchen, he found Sam sitting at the table all by himself eating a bowl of cereal. Sam's head jerked up at the sound of him entering and furrowed his brow once he saw Dean's tight facial expressions, "You okay?"

Dean nodded as he clutched the wooden chess piece in his hand, "Um…I'm fine, Sammy. I just had to take a drive to clear my head."

Sam nodded and then his eyes moved to his balled fist, "What are you doing?"

Dean licked his lips and reluctantly let the chess piece fall onto the table, "I found it in the driveway just now. Pretty cool, right?"

"It's a pawn."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Sam, I'm not stupid. I know it's a chess piece; not something from freaking Star Wars."

Sam sighed and couldn't fight back the smug smile on his face, "I know that, Dean. That's just the name of that certain chess piece."

"Oh…" Dean trailed off and cleared his throat, "I knew that."

Sam split into a huge grin and Dean just rolled his eyes, "What? You get a kick out of making me look like an idiot?"

Sam's face instant grew more sober as he quickly shook his head, "No, it's not that. I-I just…"

"What?"

He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to his cereal bowl, "I've just missed you, that's all."

Dean felt a soft smile work its way onto his face as he flicked his brother in the back of his head, "Don't worry, Dork. You're not getting rid of this sweet ass for a long time."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Shut up." He then reached to grab the wooden pawn and before Dean could even stop himself, he slapped Sam's hand away and scooped up the chess piece up into his protective hands. Sam furrows his brow at his odd actions, "What's wrong? Why can't I see it for a minute?" That's a good question, Sammy, and once I figure that out, I'll get back to you.

"Because I don't want you to get little bitch all over it." Dean answered instead, starting to become seriously concerned about his mental state of mind. Sam stared at him strangely, probably wondering the same thing, so Dean just played cool and ruffled his brother's brown hair before heading out of the kitchen door, "I'm going to go back up to my room to take a real nice power nap. Just don't try to burn the house again, Samantha. We don't want an encore from last year, now do we?"

"THAT WAS ONE TIME!" Dean heard Sam call after him and he smiled, thankful that he was finally somewhere familiar and comfortable. When he got up to his room and collapsed onto his bed, he dreamt of blue eyes and nervous smiles…and he wasn't complaining about it either.

Dean was suddenly brought back to the present and found himself still holding onto Castiel's shirt to steady, staring deeply at him for who knows how long. The lunchroom was deadly silent and it took a moment for it to dawn on Dean that every single student had their gazes locked on the two. Before he even knew what he was doing, Dean let go of him and shoved Cas to the ground, causing him to slam onto the ground on his ass. The room suddenly erupted into laughter and Dean wondered if he could ever hate himself more. He couldn't even look at Cas in utter shame and humiliation but for some reason (though he suspected it was for punishment), his legs wouldn't budge, making him stay in place and watch everyone bellow at Castiel's expense. The laughter was soon expelled once they all saw someone running up to Cas and helping him to his feet. Who that someone was Dean wouldn't have guessed in a million years.

It was Sebastian Balthazar, though now he prefers for everyone to call him by only his last name to appear more "dramatic," and he looked more pissed than he did last year when some freshmen girl beat him for the part of Peter Pan for the school's annual musical as he helped Castiel get up. He turned to Dean and gave him such a murderous look that Dean could've dropped dead right there if looks could kill.

"Hey, you filthy prick, watch where the bloody hell you're going?!" Balthazar growled out in his perfect English accent as he draped a protective arm around Castiel, leading him back to his table with all the other of the theatre geeks.

"Fags!" Someone called out from the crowd, making everyone erupt into laughter once again. Dean wanted so badly to call out an apology but no words came out. Castiel turned his head and sent Dean a confused and slightly hurt glance before turning back around and Dean wished with all his might that he would die right then and there for doing that to Cas of all the asshats here!

Once everyone calmed down and turned back to whatever they were doing before, Dean could fully operate his legs now and darted back to his own table. Everybody at his table—even Charlie, making him wonder how long he stared at Cas before making a complete dick of him—stared at him with their mouths open.

Jo was the first to speak, "Holy shit, Dean, you runnin' for biggest asshole of the year?"

"Not fucking helping, Jo." Dean hissed, burying his face into his hands.

"Wasn't that Castiel?" He heard Sam ask lowly.

Dean stopped acting like a baby and brought his head up just in time to see Charlie furrowing her brow at Sam, "How the hell do you know who he is? Hell, most people from his own grade don't even know who that kid is."

"He shared a room with Dean in the hospital." Sam answered her before turning his attention to his brother, "Why did you do that? I thought you two were friends."

"Dean, you even knew the kid before knocking him on his ass?!"

"Jo, you're still not help!" Dean hissed not too softly before sighing sadly and letting his tone become gentler, "Look, I don't know what happened back there. I-I didn't mean to push Cas and make him the laughing stock of the whole school. I just…panicked."

"I don't even know what just happened and I saw it!" Charlie exclaimed, "I mean, one minute you're eye-fucking his brains, and the next you're throwing him down like a freaking sumo-wrestler!"

Dean groaned, "I know," Then something about her statement finally sunk in, "Wait, what? I-I wasn't eye-fucking anybody; especially not a freaking dude! I just…" He wanted more than anything to further explain his actions but he couldn't find the right words to justify what he did, so he just sighed sadly, "It's complicated."

"I'll say." Jo remarked, watching Dean warily with a strange glint in her eyes.

Dean licked his lips and moved his gaze downward before asking lowly, "So, is he looking at me?"

"Which one?" Charlie asked, not even caring if anyone saw her staring at the theatre table intently.

"I'm talking about Cas," Dean informed her before adding in disgust, "Not his stupidly over-dramatic, heroic boyfriend." He didn't like how strange jealousy worked into his tone and hoped no one else noticed. Because he's not jealous. He's just angry and confused, not envious of that pompous British asshole just because he got to sit by Cas in the lunchroom and got to wrap an arm safely around him to shield him from the wrath of the school…no, he's totally not. Seriously, don't say differently or he may start throwing punches.

"Castiel is not Balthazar's boyfriend," Charlie told him, taking her eyes off the over-theatrical table look at Dean, "Though most people think differently since they always hold hands and hug everywhere—"

"Excuse me?" Dean snapped before he had the chance to stop himself, his bag of chips crumbling under his tight grip.

Charlie furrowed her brow at his odd reaction and hesitated before continuing, "Um…yea, but I'm pretty sure Balthazar only does it to stand up against homophobia and to support gay rights. I mean, if he actually is dating Castiel, then somebody better inform his girlfriend."

"Why? You startin' to bat for the other team, Dean?" Jo teased, but it didn't really have a joking reaction from her best friend.

"Of course not! Why the hell does everyone keep asking me that?" Dean snapped a little defensively, "I mean, I'm one of the biggest womanizing jackasses in this country alone! If I was gay, I would've found out about that years ago if I had freaking Backstreet Boys and Hanson posters all over my walls instead of Women Swimsuit Models!"

Jo threw her hands up in surrender, "Whoa, take it easy, Dude. I was just kidding around."

Dean calmed himself down before letting out a long tired sigh, "Sorry, Jo. I didn't mean to freak out on you there. It's just that I'm so sick of everyone asking me that." Though the person who's been asking me that the most is myself, he added silently in his head but went on to say, "I mean, can't a man befriend another dude and not have everybody jumping down his throat just to see if he's a Gaylord or not?"

"If it means anything, Dean-o, being a Gaylord isn't half bad." Charlie assured him with a smile.

Dean cringed at his own vocabulary, "Shit, I'm sorry, Charles. I forgot you liked chicks."

Charlie shrugged, "Hey, it's no biggie. I mean, seriously, what's not to like?" To add emphasis, Charlie looked to Jo and winked seductively as a joke but Dean could've swore he saw Jo turn a slight shade of pink as she shoved her best friend lightly, "Knock it off, Charles."

"Don't pretend you don't love me, Joanna Beth…" Dean's mind drifted from their conversation and he couldn't help but fixate his gaze over to the drama geek table, only to find Castiel already watching him intently. Dean sent his biggest apologetic grin and Castiel hesitated before returning it with a small wary smile. Dean couldn't help but notice that Cas looked significantly better than he did at the hospital. His deathly pale skin had tanned slightly and instead of wearing the paper thin hospital gown, he was dressed in a fitted suit (who the hell wears a suit to school?), but his entire small body was swallowed up by a huge gaudy tan trench coat. Weird fashion sense aside, even Dean has to admit that the boy may even pass by Robert Downey Jr. for the sexist man alive (and it's a fact, not Dean's own opinion because he doesn't find dudes hot. He just knows when to enjoy the view, that's all). Dean finally met Castiel's blue eyes and he couldn't bring himself to look away. Castiel's smile never faltered as he tore his eyes off of Dean to look at his own light green dress shirt. His gaze stayed on his shirt for awhile and Dean wondered what the big deal was until it finally hit him.

"J-Jo," Dean stuttered, removing his wide eyed gaze to stare wildly at the blonde, "W-What day of the week is it?"

She looked at him strangely for a moment and hesitantly replied, "Thursday. Why?"

Dean let out a groan and laid his head on the table, "Shit, I am so screwed."

The rest of the lunch period quickly ticked by and soon, the bell rang, meaning that it was time to go to Dean's fifth period class: Latin. Believe it or not, Latin was actually one of the very few classes Dean was looking forward to. The teacher, Miss Barnes, is an old friend of Dean's dad and Bobby so she couldn't be too bad; at least not as bad as Zachariah or Ms. Tapping (though even Satan himself looked like a freaking girl scout compared to those two).

He said his goodbyes to his friends and walked out of the lunchroom, only to bump into Balthazar of all fucking people. The Brit started to apologize but stopped abruptly when he turned around and saw it was Dean who he had lightly jostled. Balthazar's eyes narrowed and a small smirk appeared on his face, "Having trouble keeping your hands to yourself today, Dean?" He seemed more in-control and collected than before, but that's probably because Dean isn't humiliating anybody this time.

Dean locked his jaw, "Trust me, Sebastian, I wouldn't willingly touch you with a five foot pole."

A corner of Balthazar's mouth twitched as if he was fighting back one of his famous shit-eating grins, "So it's my trench-coated friend you're into now, is it?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Seriously, one more person says that and I'm gonna puke." He had meant to just think that statement but apparently it flew out of his mouth because Balthazar split into a knowing smirk, "I knew you batted for both teams, Dean-o. You know, I really wish I could throw in a good word for you to Cassie but if you couldn't already tell," He leaned in and said lowly, "I don't particularly like you."

Dean jerked away from him, "Dude, I am not gay!" Balthazar rolled his eyes at his statement and it only made Dean madder, "You know what? At least I have better things to do than spend all my time doing Community Theatre that nobody goes to!"

Balthazar didn't even look remotely offended, probably after hearing that jab so many times has made him immune, and just shrugged, "You should try it some time, Dean. It really lets the real you come out. And it looks like you probably need that right now." Balthazar started to grin like a Cheshire cat once he saw Dean visibly stiffed at his statement, "We're holding try-outs for The Great Gatsby in a month. Maybe you could give it a try. You'd be a shoe in for the part of Daisy Buchanan. It suits your personality."

"Drop dead." Dean growled out before storming off in search of room 302, ignoring the sudden feeling that a mysterious figure was watching him all the way there.

He had found his designated classroom easily and entered the room with minutes to spare before the bell rings. The room was empty so Dean just chose a random seat and plopped down on it. He pulled out his phone and started to entertain himself until everyone else decides to show up. He was so wrapped in his intense game of Fruit Ninja, he actually fell out of his chair in surprise when he heard a familiar deep voice say behind him, "That pointless source of entertainment does not make any sense nor clear purpose." He was about to spew several kinds of profanities to the asshat that made him fall to the ground but his mind went blank the second he saw who it was hovering over him with clear concern written on his face, "Are you alright, Dean? I didn't intend to say anything to offend. I just don't quite grasp the enjoyment of slicing fruit like a 'ninja' when it is obviously a chef's job to cut food products; fruit included. Ninjas have no proper training skills for slicing food and certainly wouldn't risk dulling their Ninjatos just to slice the ingredients for a fruit salad."

Dean split out into a relived grin, "Cas."

Castiel did his famous head tilt, "Did you mistake me for someone else? I mean, I had thought that wearing a suit and extremely over-sized trench coat during the summer is very noticeable." He paused for a moment before adding, "Though I do suspect that anyone who'd been trying to locate me will have no trouble now after lunch today." He didn't say it to make Dean feel guilty nor even remotely sad, but stated it so casually like he was just talking about the weather. Which made Dean feel even worse.

Dean got back up onto his feet and sighed, forcing himself to meet Castiel's cool gaze, "Listen, Cas, I'm really sorry about what happened earlier. I was a total asshole and you have every reason to hate my guts." He took a step forward and looked around to make sure they were alone before tilting his head toward Cas and closing his eyes, "Here, just take a quick swing before anybody comes in and we'll be even."

He heard Cas sigh, "Dean, I'm not going to—"

"C'mon, Castiel, it's okay. I deserve it." Dean encouraged, waiting patiently for the hit but it never came. Dean sighed sadly and opened his eyes to find Castiel watching him strangely with a tight expression. Dean arched an eyebrow, "What? You wanna kick me instead? That's fine, I guess, but just not in the face—"

"Dean, I, under absolute no circumstances, would ever strike another person." Castiel told him strongly before adding more quietly, "Especially you." Dean doesn't know why he added that last statement since Dean has barely done anything nice to Cas today.

Dean swallowed hard, "Look—"

"Yes, you may have acted like the slang use of the male genitalia but you didn't mean for any of the harsh repercussions to occur." Castiel said forcefully, ignoring Dean's protests.

Dean wanted more than anything to make Castiel stop trying to justify his actions but knew he wouldn't agree to anything different. So he just sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Then what else can I do to show you I'm not a total bastard?"

Castiel slowly slipped into a smile and opened his mouth to reply when the bell rang. In an instant, kids started bolting into the room and if Dean hadn't stepped out of the way in time, he would've been flattened like a pancake. He let out a breath of relief and turned to sat something to Castiel, but the boy was nowhere in sight. Dean swept his gaze across the whole room and if he wasn't so focused on seeing a dirty tan trench coat, he wouldn't missed him.

There Castiel was sitting in the very back corner desk on the totally other side of the room, slumping into his chair as he looked like he was trying to be invisible, which would be working if Dean hadn't had his eye out for him. If Dean wasn't specifically looking for him, he would've missed him completely because of Castiel's unnatural talent to always fade into the background.

Dean wanted more than anything to spend the whole class time just staring at Cas (wow, could he sound anymore creepier?) but knew that wouldn't happen when he heard the door open. Reluctantly, he sat back down in his seat and turned his attention to the teacher. He saw a beautiful woman that didn't look a day over twenty-five with dark hair that just reached her shoulders and smooth tan skin. But Dean didn't see what was truly special about her until she finally took off her black sunglasses, revealing the smoky cloud of gray that ran over her would be flawless eyes.

Dean, along with almost all of the other students in the class, jumped in surprise. The teacher smiled, "Hello, Class. My name is Miss Barnes. I will be your Latin teacher for the year." Dean swallowed hard and took one fleeting glance at Castiel, only to the boy trying to fight back a smile as he looked around to all of the students' shocked and slightly terrified expressions. But Castiel looked unfazed at all at their teacher's strange disability; actually, he regarded the blind woman with a warm, almost loving gaze as his eyes finally settled onto her. He stared at her for only a second before settling his eyes on Dean but by the way his face quickly changed from amused delight to outright confusion, it was obvious that Cas wasn't expecting Dean to already be watching him. As soon as they made eye-contact, Dean broke his stare and focused onto the teacher, even though she did sort of creep him out a bit.

"So," Miss Barnes drawled out as she used her cane to find her desk, "Why don't we start assigning seats and get started."

The class period ticked by rather slowly but Dean did happen to learn a few things. One: just because Miss Barnes is blind, doesn't mean she can't see. She can tell when you're out of your seat, passing notes, talking (even when it's barely audible), and even when you raise your hand. Two: Miss Barnes doesn't like anyone in his class other than Castiel. She always calls on him to do everything, even though he never raises his hand to volunteer. Dean could swear that the two probably know each other by the way Castiel looks at her with a warm familiarity glint in his blue eyes and the way Miss Barnes only speaks to Castiel with a slight ring of affection in her tone. He doesn't know how, but apparently everybody knows at least who Castiel is when Dean didn't even know he went to this school until lunch. And that bothers the hell out of him more than he'd ever admit. Dean has been living here ever since he was born and has a lot of pride on knowing what and when everything goes on in this back-watered town, sometimes even before it happens (one of the very few perks of being raised in a small town where you know everything about everyone in every second of every day), so that's why he's so furious (and slightly curious) that everything has suddenly become so unpredictable the minute he first laid eyes on Castiel. First, Ms. Eve, a woman who's been the principal at his high school for as long as Dean could even remember, got replaced by an uptight woman Dean didn't know nor particularly like. Then, it was his own precious little Sammy getting warped and brainwashed into thinking Ruby was a nice sweet girl when she is definitely anything but. Now, he has a blind Latin teacher that doesn't act blind at all. Things have turned very peculiar around this town and Dean has a feeling it all has something to do with a certain pair of blue eyes.

Just as Dean was about to fall asleep due to a significant amount of absolute boredom, the bell rang. Most students shot out of the room without so much as a goodbye but Dean decided to hang back and start interrogating Cas for answers. He looked over to where Castiel had been sitting only to find it empty, which is something Dean should start getting used to considering all of the times Cas has done it in the past. With a heavy sigh, Dean collected his books and said a farewell to Miss Barnes before entering the crowded hallway full of buzzing kids. He knew sixth period wasn't going to start for another seven minutes so he just decided to hang out around his locker to kill time. He should've known better because the minute he began to relax, Alastair and his gang pounced on him.

"If I didn't know any better, Winchester, I'd think you've been avoiding us." Al said with a devilish as he walked over to stand beside him.

Dean sighed, "Sorry, I've just had my hands full with making sure Sammy was okay. The guy's been acting like a needy girlfriend ever since he stepped on school grounds." He knew he couldn't use Sam as an excuse all the time but he was too tired and frustrated to come up with a better lie.

Ruby grinned wildly at the name of Dean's brother, "Yea, we've met. Dean-o, why didn't you ever tell me how hot your little brother got over the summer?"

"He is a Winchester, after all." Bela piped up, giving Dean a once over before winking playfully.

Dean locked his jaw and glared at Ruby, "Yea, about that—"

He was interrupted by Alastair slapping his side and hissing none too quietly, "Look, there he is!" Dean sighed tiredly, wondering what poor sap is going to be Alastair's target this year and reluctantly followed the group's cruel gaze…that landed straight on Castiel Novak. HIS Castiel Novak (well, not exactly his Castiel but you get the picture). The boy was stationed at his locker putting his books away in his tidy locker and getting out others for his next class. Dean's heart felt like it stopped beating but he forced himself to act cool as he shrugged carelessly, "What about him?"

Alastair instantly switched his unforgiving gaze onto Dean and raised an eyebrow, "You don't remember?"

"I remember shoving him in the lunchroom," Dean replied in such an effortlessly casual tone that it physically ached, "Why? Is there something else I don't know about?" He wanted desperately for Al to say no since the lunchroom fiasco would be over by the end of the week and then the over-compensating Neanderthal would just forget Cas and move on to another target.

But all hopes of that happening was shattered when Alastair shot Dean a dirt look and snapped, "Dean, do you ever pay attention when I speak?" Say something actually worth a shit and then we'll talk.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Stop being a baby and just tell me already. Besides, I probably wasn't there when you were talking about it." It was a flat out lie since Dean usually tunes out every time Al opens his big fat gossiping mouth, but luckily Alastair's too stupid to catch his deceit.

Alastair still halfway glared at him but Dean knew he couldn't resist an opportunity to talk shit about people, "That's Castiel Milton, aka the gay freak show that spent his whole summer in the hospital after he tried to kill himself."

Dean knew that wasn't even remotely right and shook his head, "No, that's Castiel Novak. He just had Malaria." He saw the strange looks he received from the group so he just shrugged and added, "Or that's what I heard, that is."

Bela rolled her eyes, "Whoever told you that is a flat out liar or just an idiot. I cheer with his sister, Anna, and their last name is Milton." Castiel has a sister? And it's Anna fucking Milton? How come he only mentioned brothers to me?

Though the sense of dread in the pit of his stomach said to stop asking questions and ignore them, Dean couldn't help but want to prove them wrong, "And who's your reliable source? Maybe they're the idiot."

Alastair snorted, "Trust me, Winchester, I may get all D's on my report card but I'm not wrong about this. I have a police scanner in my room and I heard them specifically say the Milton's address and that the emergency was a suicide attempt." He shrugged, "I got curious and had one of the nerds to hack into the hospital files. That's when I found one that said that Castiel Milton was black and blue in bruise recovering from a failed suicide. Turns out, somebody kicked that guy's lily white ass before he decided to swallow his family's whole medicine cabinet." Dean felt his head starting to spin and he had to lean against the wall of lockers to keep from passing out. That's not true. They're just morons. Why would Cas ever lie to you?

"Dean, you okay?" He heard Ruby ask him but he just waved her off.

"It's just those damn chicken burritos my mom fed me last night." He answered weakly, clutching his stomach in fake pain.

Alastair looked to the clock, "Well, we gotta get to class soon before that bitch Naomi gives us detention…again." At least I wasn't the only one, Dean had thought to try and lift his spirits but it still didn't stop his head from spinning and his heart and stomach from being on fire.

Dean nodded, "Um…why don't you guys go on ahead. I'll see you later."

"But what about you?"

Dean swallowed hard, "I'm just gonna use the bathroom before heading to Woodshop." This seemed to satisfy the three because they said their goodbyes and went to their designated classrooms. As soon as they were out of sight, Dean jerked his head back around and found Castiel now walking in the middle between Balthazar and Meg Masters to their next class. He ran after them and grabbed Castiel by the collar from behind in an attempt to stop him from running away when Dean started demanding for answers. But as soon as Dean just touched him, Meg whipped around and slammed her fist into his gut as she growled, "Hey, asshole, pick on somebody your own size!"

Meg Masters is the baddest girl at Lawrence High and won't hesitate to kick somebody's ass if necessary. She's only a junior and has already been suspended six times. She should have been expelled ages ago but since her father is the one and only Mr. Azazel, the school won't touch her. She used to hang out with Ruby a long time ago but when Ruby got popular by being known as the high school's slut, she dropped Meg without a beat to hang out with the stuck up in-crowd. Now, she hangs out with anybody who can stomach her presence for long. Dean guesses that since Meg is Balthazar's girlfriend now, she'll be hanging around the theatre crowd until the Brit finally wises up and drops her sorry ass.

Dean hissed in pain and accidentally released his grip on Castiel. Cas looked ready to bolt out of there and start running for the hills but he stopped and relaxed once he realized who was behind him, "Dean?" He asked in a confused tone as he turned around to look at him, "What are you doing?"

"I need to talk to you, Cas. Like, right now." Dean told him in a slightly pained tone, trying to recover from Meg's stronger-than-he-expected-from-a-girl blow.

Cas looked ready to agree but Balthazar stopped him by shaking his head and saying quickly, "Sorry, Old Sport, but we need to get to—"

"Stuff it, Jay Gatsby, I wasn't talking to you." Dean cut him off in a harsh tone that made Castiel step away from him with slight fear on his face. Dean regained his composure and (reluctantly) regarded Balthazar with a gentler tone, "Look, I just need to speak to Cas privately for a moment. I would hope that you could detach yourself from his side for five minutes."

Balthazar and Meg glared daggers at him but Cas smiled weakly and said, "It's okay, Guys. It's just Dean. I'll be fine." They still looked unsure but by the look in Castiel's eyes, they knew they needed to back off. Meg nodded reluctantly and leaned into Castiel before she said lowly, "If you're not in sixth period in ten minutes, I'll gladly kill him."

Cas rolled his eyes but smiled, "That's much appreciated, Meg, but I assure you homicide won't be necessary."

Meg smiled and leaned back before taking her boyfriend's hand to tug him away, "See you in heaven then, Clarence."

When the two were out of sight, Castiel opened his mouth to say something but Dean cut him off, "Is it true, Cas?"

His brow furrowed and his head tilted to the side, "Is what true?"

"Anything you've said to me since day one."

Cas' smile dropped and his face slipped into an unreadable expression, "I don't know what you are referring to, Dean. Um…Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go—" He seemed in hurry to get out of there but Dean had caught him by the arm and held him firmly in place with his strong grip, "So Alastair is right then." Dean said more coldly, "You've been lying about everything, haven't you?"

Castiel didn't respond and it only made Dean clutch him tighter and his tone became more desperate and angrier by the second, "Cas, dammit, answer me."

Cas' gaze shifted downward as he bit his lip, "I-I don't know what you are talking about, Dean. Please, just let me go."

"Not until I get an answer."

Cas swallowed hard and Dean could have sworn he saw Castiel's eyes grow a little damp, "D-Dean, there is simply n-nothing to tell. Please, just leave me alone."

"What else have you been lying about, huh?" Dean demanded, ignoring Castiel's pleas, "Did you even come into my bedroom that night and leave that stupid chess piece? Or will you just take credit for that, too?"

He visibly flinched as if Dean's words had physically hurt him, "Y-You don't understand, Dean. P-Please, just stop and leave it alone."

"No, I won't stop. I want the truth from you. Not from Alastair, not from any other of my so called 'friends,' not from anyone else except you. But you can't even give me that." He jerked Castiel back until he was inches away from his face and by the way Castiel went white as a sheet, he must have looked pretty terrifying, "Anything else you want to lie your way out of?"

"W-What exactly d-do you w-want to k-know?" Cas asked softly, his breath becoming more shallow and quick. Dean didn't like seeing Cas like this; especially when he knew he was the one who was causing it. Dean released him and backed away a little, but Castiel didn't run away like Dean had expected him to. Cas stayed in the exact same spot and kept his wide eyed (slightly wet) gaze on Dean, waiting for him to respond.

He stared at Castiel for a minute, not saying anything for a long while before he finally blurted out, "Who are you really, Castiel?"

The boy let out a shaky breath and answered weakly, "I told you. My name is Castiel Novak—"

"Bullshit," Dean stated flatly, "I know for a fact that you're last name is Milton—"

"No, it is not!" Castiel snapped in a suddenly strong and harsh voice, ocean blue eyes starting to turn into dark gray, "Just because some stupid adoption papers say it is, doesn't mean it's true!" He paused before saying more calmly, "At least not to me."

Dean let that piece of information process until he said quietly, "So now we're getting somewhere." He looked around and saw that the halls were now completely empty, meaning that somewhere between their little scene, the bell had rang and they were both already late. But it didn't matter to Dean right now; the only thing that mattered was the one person in front of him that would rather tell pretty lies than the ugly truth.

"Why did you lie to me, Cas?" Dean asked bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush anymore, "I thought we were friends. I thought…I thought I could trust that you were telling the truth."

"Oh please," Cas scoffed bitterly, rolling his eyes, "You would've never even looked in my direction if you knew I was some suicidal basket case." He took a step forward and said quieter, "Nobody wanted anything to do with me after the stunt I tried to pull. Why would you be any different?"

"Cas, it wouldn't have mattered to me.—"

"Don't you try to play that card on me, Dean Winchester! Don't you even dare!" Cas moved fast and suddenly Dean found himself being pinned to the locker wall as his eyes were lit in flames, "You wouldn't have given me the time of day and you know it! Now tell me, Dean, is it a crime for wanting you to remember me as an actual person and not as some suicidal nut job, or a sick psychotic freak, or a…" His voice broke and his tone became softer and sadder, "…or a gay faggot that tries to go out the easy way even though I knew I was going to hell for committing such a horrid sin? But in my state of mind back then…it seemed better than staying here." The anger finally left Castiel's eyes as pure remorse and over-whelming sadness soon filled its place as his tone became even more guilty and weak, "And I am so sorry, Dean. I truly am. I didn't know you'd actually remember my existence after that day, much less talk to me again. I just…thought you would forget about me like everyone else does." He waited for Dean to respond but he could barely let his words register in his mind, much less actually replying to them.

After a painful three minutes of silence, Castiel sighed sadly and let one tear roll down his cheek before finally releasing his strong grip on Dean, "That is what I had expected. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go to class before Meg calls in a swat team."

He started to walk away but Dean stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder, "Cas, please wait."

"Dean, I think it is better for both of us if we don't speak to each other anymore," Cas stated flatly before adding more coldly, "And my name isn't Cas, it's Castiel."

And as he watched Castiel walk down the hall, Dean felt his heart break in two for the boy with sad blue eyes that actually thinks that Dean will willingly give him up without a fight.

Woodshop was uneventful and Dean spent the whole period picking his brain for any indication that proved that Castiel was lying to him at the hospital that day. There was that time when Castiel had stared at him blankly when Dean had mentioned his Malaria and the time when Missouri had looked terribly confused when Dean had told her about Cas' supposed sickness. He should have seen it coming, but he didn't. Dean Winchester was finally wrong about something for a change, and it just had to be about this one situation that Dean kept hoping was just a dream. But Dean knew it wasn't and that just made him even sadder.

He also wondered what drove Cas to suicide. He was a freaking Milton for crying out loud, the richest and most envied family that ever stepped foot in all of Kansas. All Milton children were practically teen idols in Lawrence and could make anyone do anything they want with just a snap of their fingers. The oldest Milton child was Michael, who's already twenty-four years old and still living at home (but most people say he only stays in this town to raise the rest of his siblings while their parents remain MIA due to "business" or something like that). Dean met him once back when he was dating Anna, Michael's sister, and is not exaggerating when he says that Mike is a controlling psychopath that wants to kill anybody who socializes with his family—especially the poor boy in a cracked leather jacket and dusty old blue jeans that only wants to get in his sister's pants. The second oldest was Nick, who was just one year younger than his older brother. Dean's never met him face-to-face but he knows plenty about that sociopath from the rumor mill. Even though it happened three years ago, everybody still talks about how Nick went off the deep end and tried to poison his whole family. Luckily, one of the Milton children (Dean can't remember which one for the life of him) found out and ratted him out to their father. The next thing Nick knows, he's being shipped off to prison for life with eight attempted murder charges. The last thing Dean's heard about Nick was that he changed his name to Lucifer and joined some prison gang in Washington DC. The next sibling in line was twenty year old Raphael. Unlike Michael, he was actually going to college (sure, he does it online and still lives at home but at least he's going) and was working up to his Doctorate degree in Med School to become some fancy surgeon or something like that. Gabriel is after Raphael at the young age of eighteen, meaning that he was still a senior at high school like Dean. He's the school clown and always plays wicked pranks on everyone, no matter if you're his best friend or his worst enemy. Dean suspected that Gabe was the brother Castiel had told him about a month ago in the hospital; if he was even telling the truth about that part, that is. The oldest after Gabriel was Anna, who was only seventeen (Dean had thought that she was the youngest but he was apparently mistaken with Castiel in the picture). Anna Milton was what every girl strived to be: beautiful, popular, funny, charming, and has every boy wrapped around her finger. She's only a junior and has been the homecoming queen for three years in a row. She's also the captain of the cheer squad and woman softball team (both have won national awards throughout the country all because of Anna's bending abilities and her wicked fast spall). Dean had dated Anna a few years back for maybe a month before dumping her for the way hotter Lisa Braeden and Anna didn't take it very well. Let's just say that she messed with the wrong guy's little brother and got her brand new jeep totaled in the school parking lot.

But like he was saying, the Milton kids have had everything handed to them on a silver platter and was the apple to everybody's eye, so what happened to Cas that was so traumatic that resulted with him trying to end his own life? He said he had known the consequence of supposedly going to hell (honestly, Dean doesn't know if he believes in God or not, but he does know that the Milton family were hard-core Christians and religion was everything to them), so why would he go through with it? Suddenly, Castiel's words found their way into his head, "Because in my state of mind back then…it seemed better than staying here." But not long after that statement appear in his mind, Alastair's did also, "Turns out, somebody kicked the guy's lily white ass before he decided to swallow his family's whole medicine cabinet." He did it all because of some stupid beating? Hell, I used to get my ass kicked every day before I started toughening up and defending myself. But then Dean started to think that maybe it wasn't all because of Cas getting his ass whooped; maybe it was just the straw that broke the camel's back.

Before Dean could analyze anything further, the bell rang, jerking him out of his thoughts. He slowly picked up his books and shuffled out into the hallway. He moved toward his next class, which as AP English with Mr. Shurley (the only Advanced Placement class he's ever had in his whole life and most likely the last), but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Alastair trying to shove a scrawny guy with black hair into a locker. Before he could even process what was happening, Dean felt an over-whelming fear that it was Castiel and broke out into a dead run, throwing his books down to the floor, "Al, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Alastair stopped at the sound of Dean's voice and jerked his head up to see a very pissed off Dean Winchester, "Protecting my rep, Man. I made a goal to shove at least one smartass nerd in a locker a day."

"Well, not this nerd." Dean growled out and shoved the Alastair out of the way to get the boy out of the locker.

Alastair stared at him with a curious and slightly pissed off gaze, "Dude, what the hell is your problem today?"

"Just get to class, Alastair." Dean ordered harshly and unsurprisingly, Al shot him a dirty look and cussed him out under his breath before reluctantly walking away to head toward his seventh period. Dean sighed as he carefully tried to pry him out of the locker, "Dammit, Cas, why the hell did you—"

"Who's Cas?" The kid asked in a surprisingly high-pitched voice that made Dean do a double take. Not caring if he hurt the kid anymore since it wasn't Castiel, Dean yanked the guy out and discovered it wasn't Castiel like he had first thought it was; it was Garth, aka Jo's weird and obsessive lover boy.

"Garth?" Dean said in absolute shock since Garth usually kept to himself and would never pick a fight with anybody in a million years, "What did you do to piss off Alastair?"

"I uh…may have shoved him a little when he was teasing me about J-Jo." Garth spoke the words hesitantly and quietly, as if he was scared Dean was actually mad at him.

Dean stiffened at the name of his best friend, "What did he say about her?"

"Um…t-that I didn't stand a chance with 'a piece of ass like that.'"

Dean clenched his teeth so hard he's shocked that none of them broke as he growled, "Oh, that asshole it totally dead. If Jo doesn't hear about this first, that is. Then he'd wish he was dead."

When Dean started to walk towards Alastair's next period and rough him up in front of his whole class, Garth stopped him and shook his head, "Wait, you can't get him now without getting in trouble with Ms. Tapping. Trust me, as soon as he steps off of school grounds tomorrow after school, we'll jump him."

Dean started to nod but stopped when he heard something he didn't quite grasp in Garth's statement, "Whoa, 'we?'"

Garth grinned and nodded, "Hells yea, I gotta protect my woman."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, "Garth, Joanna Beth Harvelle is not 'your woman.' She can barely stay in the same room as you."

"At the moment, yes, but once she gets to know me and, you know, stops blocking all my phone calls and instant messages, she'll be all over me!"

Dean had to fight the urge to gag and groaned, "Garth, I'm telling you—" He stopped abruptly when he saw what time it was. 2:12pm. Three minutes until the bell rings and seventh period starts. Dean sighed and reluctantly looked to Garth, "Okay, fine. Whatever. We can talk about this later but right now I gotta get to class.

The sophomore smiled and slapped him on the back, "You got yourself a deal, Dean Bean. I'll meet you outside the janitor's closet tomorrow morning."

Dean rolled his eyes as he collected his books from the floor, "Call me that again and I'll shove my fist down your throat."

"Whatever you say, Kemosabe!" Garth called after him like he was his freaking best friend and they were just joking around (but Dean was deadly serious about his threats; especially with it being Garth since the guy annoys the hell out of him) as Dean raced down the hallway to get as far away from Garth as possible. He was running so fast, he almost missed his classroom. Dean waited until he caught his breath before slowly pushing the door open, revealing the whole room in the middle of an uproar. Turns out, English whizzes are pretty much animalistic considering how most of them were either standing up on their desks and yelling or running around the room like maniacs. The teacher was nowhere in sight to tame them so Dean just sighed tiredly as he looked around for a desk that wasn't stained with gum and yellow Gatorade (or at least he hoped it was yellow Gatorade…), and that's when he saw him.

It was Castiel sitting in the only remotely clean desk at the back of his room, seemingly oblivious to the rambunctious scene around him. Dean felt his mouth go dry and suddenly the whole world felt as though it was going in slow motion as he felt himself being pulled towards him. Castiel didn't even see him coming since his head was buried in a book, so he about jumped out of his skin when he heard Dean's confident and casual voice ask with his head tilted toward the empty desk beside him, "Is this seat taken?"

Author's Note: Sorry for all of the homophobic sayings made in this chapter but Dean is trying his absolute hardest to deny his attraction. And I know Dean has been sort of acting like an asshole a lot, but thankfully that won't be happening as often anymore. This chapter was a little depressing but I did label this Hurt/Comfort so...you can't really say you didn't see this coming (but I do promise that there will be tons of fluff added also to balance it out some). As for other news, I've finally found out how to do the single line breaks (sorry it took so long for me to figure it out. I'm a little incompetent at times), and I've added those into my previous chapters as well as fixing my most obvious mistakes. And to further being my annoying writer self, please review (as you can already tell, I'm a shameless self-promoter)! Important side note: I'm debating whether to put eventual Jo/Charlie or Jo/Garth so please let me know which one you want to see. But until next time!