Author's Note: Hello, Viewers, long time no see ;). Sorry I haven't updated in awhile but I've been kind of busy. But finally, a new chapter (I promise I'll try to update this story more frequently from now on). And this one is, well...probably not what you were expecting when I said this was going to be in Cas' pov. Hopefully you guys won't hate me too bad after reading this.
Castiel knew he should be listening as Dean chattered on and on about something on their way to Latin class, but the blue eyed boy couldn't help but get caught up marveling in the wondrous beauty of him. His perfectly sculpted face that only a heavenly being should be allowed to have, the strong and muscular built he acquired after all those years playing basketball and working part-time at the Singer Auto Shop during the summer (and don't even ask Cas how he knew that since the real answer is probably the most disturbing and utterly pathetic thing you've ever heard), his stunning tan skin with a light splash of perfectly placed freckles that decorated his face, his alluring green eyes that had the infuriating talent to hide away his true emotions so well it felt as though Castiel was being forced to solve a complicated crossword that really had no right answer…honestly, Cas could go on and on about why Dean was possibly the most gorgeous and unearthly attractive human being ever created (though he would never admit this out loud, of course, considering how much Dean seems so dreadfully repulsed and uncomfortable every time Castiel even drops little hints that preview how beautiful he thought Dean was).
"…Dude, do I have food on my face or something?" Dean asked with a charming grin Cas could only describe as exquisite.
Castiel tensed and quickly let his gaze fall to the tiled floor, "No, of course not. I would have informed you if that were the case to save you from potential humiliation." It physically pained him how much of an android he sounded like every time he was with Dean. He probably thinks I'm not even human, Cas said to himself glumly and tried not to visibly cringe at the dreaded thought.
Though he had always told himself to not think such negative thoughts, Castiel couldn't help but remind himself that Dean probably didn't think of him the same way as he does him. And how did Castiel feel about him? Well, he was pretty sure it was fairly obvious considering how almost everyone around them have noticed and even confronted him about it on several different occasions already. Cas didn't even try to deny it anymore once anyone asks him about it; all he says in response is "just don't tell Dean."
But he's almost certain that Dean knew about his romantic feelings towards him already; Castiel just believed that Dean simply ignores them since he always become deadly quiet and obviously uncomfortable every time anyone ever breaths so much of a word about Castiel unrequited emotion of longing.
Truthfully, it felt like a jagged slash through the blue eyed boy's heart that only cuts deeper every time Dean broke their eye-contact to stare at the ground (as if it physically hurt his precious green eyes to look at Cas for so long) or referring to Castiel as just his friend. But really, he should welcome the piercing pain because Cas needed the constant reminder that Dean wasn't and could never be his to keep. Though it was like a dull knife sawing through his already fractured heart when he was forced to be apart of the heartbreaking reality that Dean could never love him, Castiel knew that he should just enjoy the time he had with him before the beautiful boy finally wised up and realized how unworthy Cas was to be in his constant presence.
"I'm sorry about my friend, you know," Dean said almost shyly as he glanced at Castiel and cracked a nervous smile, "They're a bunch of major assholes sometimes."
"They are lovely, Dean," Castiel assured him fiercely before remarking, "Though they do seem to cough a lot. Are they ill?"
Apparently he had said something funny because Dean breathed out a light chuckle in response, "Yea, maybe mentally."
"So now you're referring to them as demented individuals," Cas clarified slowly before shrugging, "I suppose it's better than your previous comparison of them to vulgar body parts."
Dean laughed as he swung his arm over Castiel's shoulder and squeezed it fondly, "Damn, Cas, sometimes I have to wonder if you're actually this clueless or if you're really just trying to funny." Moments like this when Dean's touch on him lingers or when he holds his gaze so long it's as though he felt the same way made Cas wonder if the eldest Winchester boy was just mocking his obsessive infatuation with him.
It was like Dean thought all of this was just a game to see how far Cas would let him go until he shattered his fragile heat completely. And if Castiel was honest with himself, he'd admit that he would let Dean go as far as he wanted to if it meant he got to spend even just a second more with him.
"What's up with you?" Dean asked him once they got to the classroom and sat down in their seats, "You've been really quiet since lunch."
"I've just been thinking." Castiel answered quietly as he casted his gaze upward to the ceiling to avoid looking at him because every time he held Dean's gaze longer than a few seconds, he feared that the green eyed boy could see the absolute devotion and hopeless pining he had for him written plainly on his face. He's surprised Dean hadn't called him out on it yet seeing that everyone else already had.
"Cas, are you mad at me or something?" He heard Dean ask almost anxiously, causing the younger boy to feel a bolt of shock run through him as his eyes snap to Dean in bewilderment.
"Dean, I could never be angry with you." Cas told him sincerely, wondering how anybody could feel anything else towards Dean Winchester other than admiration and awe.
He sighed with relief, looking as though a huge weight was lifted off him, "Good. I thought I pissed you off by taking too many jabs at Sebastian back there." No, not angry, Castiel mentally informed him, just a tad bit confused.
Honestly, Castiel thought Dean and Balthazar would get along swimmingly how much the two are alike. They even look sort of the same with their blonde hair, tan skin, and green eyes (and of course, their similarities in appearance had absolutely nothing to do to why Cas had felt himself drawn to the over-dramatic boy in seventh grade. Nope, not at all…). But strangely, Dean seemed to hate him right off the bat and Balthazar took that as an invitation to provoke him at every chance he got.
"I find closeted jealousy to be entertaining," Balthazar had told him once when Cas had confronted him on why he felt the need to torment Dean so. Castiel didn't know exactly what he meant by that (he and Gabriel found it extremely hilarious to refer to Dean as being in some closet or something, and Castiel just assumed it was just a Narnia joke he didn't understand) and simply brushed it off.
"So," Dean began slowly as his green eyes shifted to stare directly into Castiel's blue ones, "The weekend's comin' up. Got any plans?"
Cas nodded, "I have three private tutoring lessons, two trumpet solos that require perfecting for State try-outs next month, choir practice, an hour and a half bible study, filling out more college applications, volunteering—"
"Okay, let me rephrase that," Dean said abruptly, a smirk planted on his angelic lips that made Castiel's heart leap to his throat, "Got any fun plans?"
"Does volunteering at the public library count as enjoyable?" Castiel asked with a furrowed brow, seeing that it was the only activity of them all that Castiel was actually looking forward to (the other extracurricular hobbies Naomi forced Castiel to do were just tolerable at best, but his uncle, Rachel's father, was the head librarian at the facility and shared Cas' personal interest in the finer novels of the world).
Dean snorted—a sound that sent a rumble of pleasure vibrating through Castiel's chest and rattling his ribcage—and rolled his eyes, though there was a crooked grin on his face, "Dude, that's like saying getting a tooth-canal is some kind of reward."
"If you wish to be technical, the procedure actually does reward you in the end," Castiel corrected him before he could bite his tongue, "It's a beneficial surgery that repairs and saves a tooth that is either badly decayed or infected. But I suppose if you actually want dentures earlier in life than most people, you can continue to neglect your dental hygiene." He paused, "And it's called a root-canal. Not a tooth-canal."
Dean stared at him and for a moment Castiel feared that he had offended him somehow (he always seemed to do that on the rare occasion he was speaking to someone who didn't quite understand that Castiel was just attempting to be helpful instead of condescending like it always came across as), but thankfully, the green eyed boy just chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit Castiel noticed he did quite often whenever he was around him, "Wow, I should really stop talking now; spare myself some embarrassment of looking like a complete idiot."
"I didn't intend to make you cease speaking," Cas admitted quietly, wanting desperately to avert his gaze so Dean wouldn't see the pure emotion of utter longing in his eyes but finding himself completely entranced as he studied Dean's reaction to his next words carefully, feeling almost hopeful, "In fact, my intention was to do quite the opposite." He observed Dean closely now—watched the startling shock that swept through his green eyes first before something unreadable flooded his gaze; something that made Dean flush a very pretty hue of pink but Cas couldn't tell if it was out of humiliation, disgust, uncomfortableness…or something else entirely different.
Don't be brain-dead, Cassie, the malevolent whispering voices inside the dark twisted part of his mind hissed cruelly yet rationally, not even your own family wanted your disgusting presence in their lives. How could anyone else love you when not even the ones that are obligated to can muster up enough sentiment?
With a heavy heart and a lowering self-esteem, Castiel watched as Dean sputtered for a moment before finally regaining control of himself and opening his mouth to reply—
Then the bell rang, proving to Castiel once again that yes, there truly was a God and he seemed to have a special liking for him—which still baffled Cas considering his many flaws (and trust him, there were quite a bunch), sins (he was a homosexual for crying out loud!), and that whole stunt he pulled last summer by attempting to take his own life.
"Afternoon, Darlings," Pamela Barnes sauntered into the classroom right on cue, making every boys' (and a few girls') jaws drop and eyes widen, but that was what usually occurred when Ms. Barnes made an appearance, "Now that we've finally got the awkward first day out of the way, it's time to get to the fun stuff. Let me just pass out your textbooks and then we can get to it."
Despite her slim and delicate frame of a young woman, Pamela was a lot of stronger than most people would expect as she lifted most of the thick textbooks up in her toned arms and dropped them on each student's desk one by one. She passed Dean's eventually and gave him a flirtatious smile (which wasn't completely out of character for Pam considering how she flirted with just about everyone she came into contact with; even ones way too young for her), which Dean so greatly returned almost instantly. The Winchester boy said something kittenish to her that made the teacher laugh lowly and wink, but Cas forced himself to pretend as if he didn't notice and continued to glare down at his desk, trying to fight off the burning ugly jealousy that plagued his stomach.
You're so pathetic, Cassie, a mockingly familiar voice chuckled inside his head, almost making Castiel cut himself by the way his hands immediately balled into fists with his untrimmed fingernail digging into the soft skin of his palm, jealousy is when you're afraid you're going to lose someone. The voice—the malicious, cruel, just purely evil voice of his imprisoned brother that sent shivers of petrifying fear down Castiel's spine and he once again thought about how his nickname "Lucifer" suited him a little too well—let out a scornful laugh, but you, Little Brother…you never even had Green Eyes to begin with.
"Cas, you okay, Man?" Dean's concerned voice finally drowned out the ridiculing guttural of his imaginary hallucination of his brother as Castiel stopped looking downward to look up at him.
At first, he wanted to respond honestly for once in his life; it would be so easy to confess how mad Castiel truly was. He was a freak, a schizophrenic, a mental case….too much like his damned father.
"I thought your cultured and disciplinary upbringing would rid you of those disgusting genes you received from those heathens," Naomi had once growled lowly in his ear as she latched onto his hair with her clawing hand when Castiel was thirteen and mistakenly thought he actually had a say in his pre-destined life decisions, "But you're still as redneck and foolish as your moronic parents were. Still Daddy's little solider?" The fist in his hair tightened as she let out a low dark chuckle, "Gonna run off and leave us too like that slab of wasted space you call your real father? Except when he left, he had a family there to miss him; now you, on the other hand…no one would ever mourn your departure. They wouldn't even realize you were gone…"
"Cas, you're kinda scaring me." It was obvious that Dean meant it lightly, but the worrisome glint in his eyes and tense posture proved that he wasn't completely kidding either.
"I'm fine, Dean," Cas lied with a weak smile, already feeling the results of not digesting his prescribed medication rattling his bones, "I'm just tired. I had to stay up relatively late the previous night studying for the ACT."
"Dude, we don't have to take that thing for another few months or so," Dean pointed out, his brow furring in confusion as he shrugged, "I mean, why do today what you can put off 'til tomorrow?"
Castiel shrugged and forced his weak grin to morph into a more assuring one, "Practice makes perfect, Dean Winchester." And that's what Naomi wants, Castiel continued bitterly in his mind but managed to fake a convincing smile to make sure Dean thought that everything was okay, utter perfection. There was no gray area with that woman; anything below genius was failure in her eyes. Why Dean couldn't understand that "doing your best" was never good enough was beyond him.
"And here is your book, Mr. Milton," He was so caught up with pretending to be fine, he didn't realize Pam was in front of him until the heavy thud of the book sounded loudly on his desk, "Now listen here," She smiled teasingly at him as she pointed a warning finger at him, "Just because you're almost as knowledgeable as me in this course doesn't mean you need to make everyone look bad," Pam winked, "They can do that all by themselves."
Castiel felt himself actually give her one of his sincere smiles and nod, "Yes, I would hate to ruin the surprise when they finally discover their intelligence level isn't as high as they would like to believe."
Pamela laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately as she passed him by, "Stay gold, Ponyboy."
"Seriously, do you know her or something?" Dean asked once the teacher was out of earshot (for an average person, that is. But because of her legal blindness, Pam's other senses had sharpened immensely after "the accident"; but that was another story…).
Castiel nodded, "I met her years ago when she was still in the fortune telling business. I actually worked there once upon a time."
Dean's brow screwed up in disbelief, "You worked?"
"Yes," Cas answered slowly, wondering what was so hard to believe, "Is that a shock to you?"
"But you're rich, Dude." Dean told him incredulously, as if Cas had forgotten about the Milton family's excessive wealth (their money was one of the only things they all truly cared about; that, and power, of course).
"I don't wish to rely on the Miltons anymore than I'm forced to." Castiel said sharply, not being able to keep the ice out of his cold tone whenever Dean asked the very questions everyone else knew were completely off limits when it came to talking to him. If it were anyone else, he'd had told them flatly right off the bat without even missing a beat. But it's Dean, so he'll let it slide. He'll let anything slide when it came to Dean.
Dean seemed to take the hint and shut his mouth, averting his gaze and mumbling an apology before turning his attention back to the front of the classroom. Cas let out a sigh and tried to focus on the teacher as she moved in front of the students and began teaching the introduction to her Latin course, but more times than one, Castiel found his eyes drifting back over to Dean, watching in awe as the Winchester boy nibbled subconsciously on the eraser of his pencil as he seemed immensely invested into what Pamela was lecturing about, completely oblivious to Castiel's blatant admiration. He's perfect, Castiel declared in his head for not the first time in his life as he gazed at Dean with utter adoration etched into his face, too perfect for an undeserving train wreck like me.
The class period came and went in a blink of an eye, and soon just as Pamela was getting to the interesting part of the ancient language, the bell rang signaling their time with the lovely Ms. Barnes had come to an end.
"So what do you have next?" Dean asked him as they both gathered up their stuff to leave (and Castiel was ashamed to say he was intentionally taking longer than necessary just so he had more time to associate with Dean a little bit longer).
"Art," Cas replied with a smile, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being in one of the only classes he actually looked forward to (the only other periods he regarded with more than just tolerable indifference was Latin and English, and that was only because of a certain green eyed boy whose divine face could make even the most righteous angel sinful with envy), "You?"
"Woodshop," Dean answered with a shrug, "It's not that bad; the teacher, Mr. Turner, is an old friend of Bobby's, so the old man cuts me a little more slack than he does the other suckers." Once he got his books together, he began walking towards the door as he said, "Later, Cas. I'll see you next period, okay?" This is it, Castiel, he told himself as he dug down deep in his soul and was able enough to scrape up enough courage, it's now or never.
"Dean?" Castiel blurted out before he could lose his nerve.
Dean turned back around and looked at him with a cocked eyebrow, "Yea, Cas?"
I love you.
"I listened to all those tapes you gave me," Castiel said weakly instead, cursing himself for even thinking about messing up his wonderful friendship with Dean just because of his stupid, insignificant little feelings, "I have them right now if you want them back."
Dean beamed, "Really? What'd you think?"
Castiel hated them. All the bands were loud, violent, and apparently thought slamming their hands down on a guitar was acceptable to be referred to as "music." The voices were horribly out of tune and made Castiel want to scream at them that this was why the school choir probably rejected them earlier in life. The lyrics were perverted and barely made any sense, and even Balthazar's cheesy showtunes seemed more bearable than listening to a man that sounded in dying need of a cough drop or something singing about how a female "shook him all night long" when it's obvious he was referring to sexual intercourse and seriously, why on earth would anybody want to listen about another person's sex life?
"They were…different." Castiel said hesitantly and saw Dean's shoulder fall a little before he quickly added, "A good different, I mean." Great, Dean Winchester has turned him into a blatant liar and now he's going to hell. Just great.
But somehow, he deemed possible damnation worth it as he saw Dean's face light up, "That's awesome! Man, if you loved AC/DC, you're gonna love Black Sabbath!"
Castiel forced an eager smile, "I look forward to it." Dean looked like a dog with a juicy bone as he quickly bobbed his head and, looking almost reluctantly, left the empty classroom.
Cas watched him as he left and seemed to be stuck in a dazzled stupor that was only broken when he heard Ms. Barnes' teasing voice say, "About time you got a boyfriend, Ponyboy. And a cute one, at that."
"He's not boyfriend," Castiel said stiffly, blushing profusely as he picked up his books and hurried to the Art room, finishing his sentence softly in his head, but I wish he was.
"Howdy, Clarence," Meg greeted cheerfully as she slid into the seat beside him, "Earned those wings yet?"
"If you're referring to that odd Christmas movie you and Balthazar forced me to watch last year, then yes, Clarence, the angel himself, had 'earned his wings' at the end of the film when he successfully prevented the protagonist of the story to not commit suicide. But me myself, however, have not since, despite what everyone else seems to believe otherwise, I am completely human and don't have flying appendages." Cas said in a flat tone, not bothering to even glance up from his paper in front of him to look at her.
"Well, someone's a little crabby today," She observed as she reached out and pinched his cheek, "What's wrong, Cloud Hopper? Did somebody steal that golden halo of yours?"
"Meg," Castiel began slowly in a low tone, ceasing his sketching to stare up at her with questioning yet hesitant blue eyes, "Can I ask you something?"
Meg smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest and said, "I'm all ears, Unicorn."
Cas licked his lips and paused for a moment before he finally forced himself to blurt out, "H-How did you know you were in love with Sebastian?"
Meg frowned and faintly blushed at the word "love" as she quickly averted her gaze and replied lowly, "I don't love anybody, but if I did…" She trailed off for a moment and looked like she was in deep thought before shrugging slightly and continuing in a quiet tone, "He uh…he makes me laugh."
"But there must be more to loving someone than just appreciating their jokes." Cas insisted with a furrowed brow.
She rolled her eyes exasperatedly, turning pinker by the second, "No, Stupid, I mean he makes me laugh all the fucking time. You know, even when his lame-ass jokes are really freaking retarded and if anyone else had said them I would've punched them in the face…but I still find myself laughing just simply because it's him. You get what I'm saying, Angel Wings?"
"I believe so." Cas said softly, turning his gaze back to the single sheet of paper yet still not being able to stop thinking about Meg's words.
"…but I still find myself laughing just simply because it's him."
He thought back to earlier today when Dean had made the Calculus joke—the same joke that he had scowled at and scolded Gabriel for making only a few weeks prior to this day. Yet still he found himself actually laughing once Dean had said it because somehow just his honey-coated voice strangely made Cas want to cackle until he was blue in the face. But why? It was still the same idiotic joke as before and Cas had detested it the first time he heard it…why did just a simple change of voice make it funnier to him?
Because it's Dean, he mentally answered himself as he gazed down at the drawing of the beautiful Winchester boy he had made this morning and found himself tracing Dean's traced jawline with his thumb, it's always because it's Dean.
Class periods without Dean in them always drag on at a terribly slow pace and the hollow empty feeling deep inside his chest only lightened the moment Castiel stepped through the AP English door and finally caught sight of Dean grinning at him and tapping the empty desk behind him. Cas' pulse skyrocketed instantly at the picture that looked too good to be true but he managed to remain casual as he glided through the classroom and sat down behind Dean, "Hello."
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted warmly, his green eyes sparkling in the strong beam of sunshine that shined down on him through the window, causing the older boy's eyes to twinkle even more (if that was even possible, that is), "Are you doing anything tonight?"
Castiel's heart started pounding roughly against his fragile ribcage but he kept his voice even, "Nothing particularly special, I suppose. Yourself?"
Dean's smile widened at his answer and he opened his mouth to say something when a feminine voice behind them cut him off, "E-Excuse me? Dean?" Castiel's grip on his pencil tightened at the sound of Jessica Lee Moore's shy voice as he and Dean both looked over to the beautiful blonde girl who was fiddling with her hands nervously.
Dean's good-nature grin immediately slipped into his usual casual smirk (an action that occurred often when he spoke to a pretty girl, Cas had observed), "Hey…Jess, right?"
Jess nodded, "Yea, um…I was just wondering why you haven't really texted me about our plans for Saturday night? I mean, I don't mean to sound pushy or anything…" She began to babble, her face beginning to burn as her hopeless floundering continued.
Dean's eyes widened as if he had completely forgotten about it (which Cas doubted; Dean would never waste a chance to have sexual intercourse—especially someone as attractive as the girl in front of them), "Shit, sorry, Sweetheart. I was busy hanging out with Cas and I forgot," The last statement allowed a surge of hope to rush through Castiel's veins until Dean added, "Here, to make up for my stupidity of not thinking of such a fine woman as yourself, why don't we just see the movie tonight? Pick you up at eight?" Castiel sank further down into his chair as his furious eyes found the ceiling, cursing himself and his moronic brain for ever even thinking for a second Dean would choose him over a woman.
Jess let out a small breath of relief and nodded, "Sure, that sounds…nice. I'll text you my address when I get home. I'll see you around, Dean."
Dean grinned as he watched the subconscious sway of the girl's hips as she turned around and walked back to her friends. He then looked to Cas and nudged him with his elbow, "Guess who's getting laid tonight."
"I'm happy for you, Dean," Castiel practically had to shove the false words out of his mouth, knowing perfectly well he was feeling just the opposite, "It's pleasant to hear you are going to have an…exciting evening tonight."
Dean furrowed his brow at Cas' blatantly bitter tone as concern reflected on his face, "You alright?"
"Of course I am." Cas forced an upbeat tone and was relieved to hear the bell ring so he wouldn't have to pretend to be okay when it really felt like he was dying inside of the dreaded unrequited love. It will most likely be the death of me, Cas thought sadly to himself as he stared hard at the pencil in his hands to avoid glancing over at Dean, that is, if my so called "happy family" doesn't kill me first.
Just about that time, Mr. Shurley shuffled into the classroom with the same ruffled up appearance he usually possessed (though Cas had no room to talk as he looked down at his own messy attire), "Afternoon, Students." He cleared his throat and went over to the board, writing his following words down with a blue dry-erase marker as he spoke them aloud, "Today, we are going to be discussing the main theme and concept of Charles Dickens' book 'Tale of Two Cities.' You did receive the reading list I mailed to your homes this summer, right?" At everyone's guilty and embarrassed, it was obvious that none of them had even glanced at the paper twice; much less read any of the recommended books.
But Castiel, however, had read it previously last year upon Anna's high recommendation (she had assured him it was a magnificently poetic piece of literature, but Castiel had found it a bit too overly romantic and feminine for his liking) and read it a second time when he read through the list Mr. Shurely had been talking about (this time around, he found Sydney Carton's utter devotion and love for Lucie Manette to be tragically endearing and hauntingly beautiful, though he suspected that his newfound appreciation for the novel all had to do with his renewed unrequited emotions to Dean, whom had plagued his every waking thought the minute he was brought unconscious to his hospital room).
Most of the class period slowly ticked by with Castiel being forced to answer almost every single question the teacher asked pertaining to the classic book (and you know how he must have adored all the dirty looks and menacing glares he received from his classmates for making them look bad). The only one else who had seemed to read it was Jess Moore, who, if she hadn't been so hell-bent on going on a romantic evening with Dean, Cas would've liked considering her natural intelligence and constant friendly nature to everyone she ever comes into contact with.
"Okay, Class," Mr. Shurely said with an exhausted sigh as he flopped down into his chair and began typing on the computer, "For the remaining six minutes of the class period, I'm going to let you get with your partner and work on your project. But please keep your voices down; I have a killer headache."
"So," Dean said with a smirk as he twisted around in his seat with his blank notebook in hand, "I guess it's my turn to play twenty question, huh?"
"I would advise you to not get your hopes up at the prospect of being able to ask twenty questions," Cas told him as he glanced up at the clock, "We only have a few minutes until class is dismissed."
Dean rolled his eyes and wrote something down on the blank sheet of paper as he said, "Okay, is there anything else besides your endearing habit of not knowing what the hell I'm talking about I need to know?"
Castiel's ears perked up as he looked to Dean in puzzlement, "Endearing?"
Dean flushed as his eyes snapped down to the notebook, "Next question: when were you born?"
"On a Thursday, believe it or not," Castiel responded, "September 4, 1997."
Dean wrote his answer down before sliding his gaze back upward to meet Cas' gaze, raising an eyebrow, "So I guess your birthday's comin' up pretty then."
"I suppose," Cas said with a shrug, wondering how that obvious observation pertained to the line of questioning, "I mean, unless some pretentious 'intellectual' decided to rearrange the calendar, that is."
Dean cracked one of his usual grins that made Castiel's heart stutter, "Oh Novak, was that an ounce of sarcasm in that forever monotone voice of yours?"
Cas fought the urge to smile (and blush) as he shrugged and said softly, "I suppose someone is starting to rub off on me."
Dean beamed at this answer but tried to hide it as he angled his face downward to stare at the paper and cleared his throat, "And moving on: you said you were born in Illinois, right?" Castiel' pleasant mood took a major spiral as he felt his heart tighten.
"Yes, Pontiac," Cas managed to say in a somewhat even tone, not particularly enjoying where Dean's innocent line of questioning was leading to, "I lived there until I was seven."
"And how was it?" Dean asked as he casted a glance at Cas, "Pontiac, I mean."
Memories of his early childhood began resurfacing in Castiel's mind—the feel of the cold refreshing water that soaked his tiny feet as Cas sat at the edge of the dock with his father at his side who was patiently trying to hold his son's attention long enough to teach him the basic elements of fishing, the intoxicating fragrance of his mother's freshly baked pumpkin muffins that always filled the house once he and his father came home from trick-or-treating Halloween night, the exciting day at the buzzing hospital when his sister was born—and a soft smile found its way on Castiel's lips, "It was like heaven on earth."
Dean nodded, scribbling down his words before continuing, "What about around the time you were adopted?" His words made the picture of what once was Castiel's happy family shatter like a delicate glass face crashing to the hard tiled floor as the feeling of heart-hammering fear and shaking panic vibrated through Castiel's body.
Castiel attempted to keep himself as well as his voice from shaking as he said shallowly, "No, nothing. Next question."
Dean, who either didn't pick up on his obvious uncomfortableness or just didn't care, rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, there must be something—"
"Next. Question. Dean." Cas repeated in a much more hard and sharp tone, a scowl beginning to surface on his face.
Dean's eyes seemed to widen, the realization that his insistence was treading on dangerous waters finally sinking in, "Cas, I didn't mean—"
"Why don't I just ask some questions?" Cas blurted out, interrupting Dean's apology in fear that pity might wind up in his sorrowful response (and pity was one thing he just couldn't handle; especially from Dean), "You still haven't told me about your hobbies. Other than mechanics and playing basketball. Though—"
"Cas, it's my turn." Dean said quietly but sternly as his perfect jaw set in determination, "You've heard enough about my boring life. Let me hear some about yours."
"Your life isn't boring, Dean," Cas told him before he could bite his tongue, "It's safe. I mean, what I wouldn't give—" That's enough, Castiel, Naomi's commanding voice roaring in his ears made Cas cut off abruptly as he tried not to flinch at the horrible screeching sound, don't you even think about spreading those disgraceful lies you spun to make yourself the victim after all the things this family has done for you; you should be thanking us for all the work we've done to make you into what you are today. You used to be nothing before my brother took you from that shack and gave you purpose in life. All we ever ask of you is to keep your mouth shut and let us mold you into perfection.
He won't believe you anyway, Michael's voice added in the same grave tone, sending shivers of fear down Castiel's spine as silent sobs began building up in Castiel's throat, he'll think you're a liar. They'll all think you're a liar…
"Cas," A sudden hand on his shoulder jerked Castiel back to reality and he saw Dean's worried face leaning into his as he said softly, "I'm sorry, okay? Please, don't get upset."
"I'm fine, Dean," Castiel said hollowly as he made sure to remove all emotion from his expression and tone in case Dean might see through his rehearsed lines, "I've always been fine. What I meant to say is that my life is boring, too. I'm sparing you the torturing of listening about my mundane yet privileged lifestyle as a…" He had to force the words to form in his lips but couldn't keep the disgust out of his voice, "A proud member of the Milton family."
"Stop lying, Cas," Dean said softly, his green eyed gaze intensifying on him, "Do you honestly not trust me enough to tell the truth?"
"Lies are the perfect coping mechanism," Cas found himself saying in a whisper as he matched Dean's stare, feeling unable to look away, "I've heard if you say it enough times, you'll eventually believe it to be true."
"You can't keep burying these emotions down like this," Dean said soberly and Castiel really wished he would stop saying the truth because all it did was make the reality that much harder to face, "You're gonna explode one of these days."
"That's none of your concern, Dean," Cas reminded sourly, tired of pretending like the golden boy of the school actually gave a damn about a waste of oxygen like himself, "I'll deal with it by myself when the time comes, but right now I just want to bury it deep enough so I can forget about it for awhile."
"You have to tell me some time, you know," Dean told him plainly, seemingly unfazed at Castiel's venomous remarks, "I mean, of course I won't put anything in the paper you don't want me to, but first you gotta tell me what happened and is happening to this day."
"I'll tell you what," Cas sighed out, glancing at the clock and noticing that they only have less than a minute left before the bell was supposed to ring, "If you meet me at the abandoned field in the middle of the forest beside Fifth Street at exactly eight o'clock, I'll tell you nothing but the truth. About everything…well, almost everything, at least."
Dean just stared at him for a brief moment, a displeased frown forming on his annoyed face, "You do realize you're scheduling this little hang out the exact time my date with Bess is, right?"
"It's Jess," Cas corrected before adding quietly, "And yes, I'm perfectly aware of that." And just at that moment, the bell rang, releasing the tension from Cas' body that formed the minute Dean started asking the very things that everyone knew were better left kept under lock and key.
Castiel scooped his things up in a rush and attempted to bolt out of the door when a firm hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, forcing Cas to remain where he was in a tight iron grip. He wasn't surprised when he turned his head and saw it was Dean who had a hold on him; he also wasn't shocked when he caught sight of the pure fury in his fiery green eyes.
"You're not being fair, Cas." Dean said softly in a low and vexed tone, his stony gaze cutting Cas to the core.
The younger boy tried to say something but nothing came out from a moment until finally, his small voice said quietly, "Life isn't fair, Dean." And with that, he jerked out of Dean's grasp and left the room, forcing himself to keep his gaze straight ahead and to not steal a glance back at the Winchester boy. This was how it had to be, Cas told himself over and over again as he made his way to Band class, it's better to cut him out of your life now before he becomes the total center of it.
Because if Dean Winchester really wanted to know the truth, here it was: someone as flawless as him wouldn't want a tired burden like Castiel once he finally found out how broken beyond repair the blue eyed boy truly was. And maybe one day, Cas just might be able to accept that.
But right now, he's selfish and just wanted to keep up the hopeless illusion that Dean could potentially learn to love him in due time. And that's what it was: an illusion. But a pretty damn good one at that.
Band was uneventful as usual and though Cas tried his hardest to conceal his silent misery, he knew Balthazar could still see the pain in his tortured blue eyes.
"Look, if you're still narked about me embarrassing you in front of that pretty little bloke of yours, I'm sorry," Balthazar said at the last ten minutes of the period, "I was just taking a piss out of them, is all."
"It's not that," Cas admitted quietly, his eyes never leaving the ugly brown carpet as he spoke, "It's…"
"What?" He prompted gently, wanting desperately to know the cause of Castiel's foul mood.
Cas sighed and mumbled almost so inaudibly that he hoped Balthazar wouldn't hear him, "It's just Dean—"
"What did that wanker do this time?" Balthazar demanded, sudden fire lighting in his eyes, "I swear if he hurt you, I'll tear his bullocks off and—"
"He didn't hurt me," Cas cut him off in a sharp tone, not particularly enjoying where his best friend's threat was going, "I'm afraid I am the only one to blame here."
"Well, what could you have possibly done?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, "I mean, you already worship the ground he bloody walks on—"
"He wants to get to know me, Balthazar," Cas said glumly, not being able to control the words flying out of his mouth, "Not just the surface part where I'm simply just the smart, rich, spoiled Milton kid but the real me." He took in a shaky breath and closed his eyes, "I don't know if I should feel enlightened or terrified."
"Well, why shouldn't he?" Balthazar asked as he lightly knocked shoulders with him, "You're a catch, Cassie. Any bloke would be lucky to have you."
"But I don't want any 'bloke,'" Cas said sadly as he opened his eyes to stare down at his hands that were folded in his lap, "I want Dean." He let out a long sigh before continuing, "But I know I can't have him—trust me, you don't know how many hours of sleep I've lost trying to come up with any possible reason why I'm even allowed in his presence; being anything more than friends is even out of God's reach—and I should just let him go while I'm still able to, right?" Balthazar opened his mouth to answer him, but Cas didn't give him a chance as he just continued on, "But that's the problem: I'm not even strong enough to loosen my tight grip on the man, let alone set him free. It's because I'm selfish and while I know greed is a sin, I can't even bring myself to care." He looked back up to his friend, who was watching him with an unreadable expression, "Is it wrong to be happy when you know you don't deserve it?"
"Cassie," Balthazar said gently, his tone smooth and soft as if he was afraid his voice was going to shatter the already broken boy, "If anyone in this damn town deserved to be happy, it's you. I mean, the shit you're going through—the shit you're still going through…you deserve the whole bloody world, Mate," He then let out a long breath, something Cas noticed he did often when he was delivering bad news, "But Dean isn't your cure, Castiel; he's your poison."
Cas furrowed his brow at his sudden words, "Balthazar, I don't—"
"Dean Winchester is going to be your demise, Cassie. I mean, look at yourself." He motioned to Castiel in his depressive state, "You've been going out of your blooming mind ever since you first started hanging around that chap."
"What are you trying to say?" Cas demanded in a surprisingly hard tone, his eyes narrowing.
"I just don't want you to get hurt." He answered softly, making Cas roll his eyes.
"I get hurt all the time, Balthazar," Castiel reminded him as his hands subconsciously went to his bruised ribs and the horrible flashback of what caused it flashed through his eyes, "Why would this be any different?"
Balthazar flinched as the memory of a bloodied and beaten Cas standing at the Brit's doorway many months ago came back to him as well, "Cassie, I don't want you to get hurt anymore. Please, let me and Meg help you."
Cas rolled his eyes and forced a smile, "It's not that bad," I deserve most of it anyway, "I can take care of myself." He paused before adding, "Besides, why are you bringing this up now? You know it's been going on for a long time before this."
"Yes, but that was when you had Anna protecting you," At the mention of her name, he felt the painful ache of laying on the ground choking on his own blood when his once "caring" and "trustworthy" sister had betrayed so severely it almost cost him his life, "But now—"
"I have Gabriel." Castiel reminded him weakly, not even believing himself as he said those words.
"Gabe isn't even around most the time when it happens." He reminded him lowly.
Cas smiled bitterly and looked to the ground, "I thought we were talking about Dean, Sebastian. Not my home life." Castiel's the only one that can get away with calling Balthazar by his first name without getting heavily scolded or a murderous glare; not even Meg can call him that without receiving a long lecture in return. But that's only because he and Balthazar were best friends; actually, he's more of a brother to Cas than his actual ones are. That's why he felt like he could talk to him about everything…well, everything but Dean Winchester, that is.
Honestly, he didn't feel like discussing Dean with anyone. But that's just because Dean was probably one of the only things he truly cared about; his safety and happiness was left with pure indifference but the minute Dean pops into his mind, Cas' pulse races, the knot in his stomach reappears, his palms begin to sweat, and he's left with a dopey smile on his face.
"He's no good for you," Balthazar's sudden voice shook Castiel out of his daydream, "You should just turn back now before he leads you on any further."
"He wouldn't do that," Cas told him sternly, "Dean's not like the others, Balthazar. I know him."
The Brit snorted coldly, "Yea, for how long? A week, at most?"
"So?" Castiel demanded, feeling defensive, "He's treated me better in those few days than most people do in a whole year. You don't know him, Balthazar; at least not the way I do."
"Don't you think it's odd that the most popular boy in school, who didn't even know you existed until the first day of school when he humiliated you in front of everyone, suddenly wants to become your best friend?"
"Maybe he actually likes me," Cas snapped, "Has anyone ever thought that a person may actually like my company other than the people who are forced to tolerate my presence?"
"Castiel, don't be like that," He said as he laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You know that's not what I meant."
"But it's true, isn't it?" Cas said darkly as his teeth clenched together, "Everyone is just so shocked that an incredible guy like Dean Winchester would ever even spit in the direction of a suicidal loser like Castiel Milton."
"You see, this is exactly what I'm talking about," Balthazar said softly, "You're fragile, Cassie; when that boy starts showing his true colors, I'm afraid he won't break just your heart."
"You know, you're starting to sound a lot like Anna." Castiel pointed out miserably, causing Balthazar to look at him pitifully and sigh.
"Look, Cas, I know what she did wasn't the most admirable thing to do, but she was only trying to help you—"
"Help me?" Cas hissed, his eyes darkening into a rough stormy grayish tint, "You call that helping? If she really wanted to help me, why didn't she do it when she stood over me as I got beaten within an inch of my life? Tell me that, Sebastian."
Balthazar just stared at him coldly, as if the person in front of him was a total stranger, before breaking the long pause of silence by saying sadly, "He's changing you, Cassie, and it isn't for the best."
"I'm sick of everyone telling me what's best for me," Castiel told him coldly, the miserable years of having other people choose what he eats, what he watches, who he talks to, what college he goes to, what job he'll have when he grows up—everything that's supposed to be his to decide being evident in his heartbreaking tone of voice, "Why doesn't anyone care what I want?"
Balthazar's sharp eyes softened and he opened his mouth to say something when the bell finally rang. Not even wasting another moment, Castiel bolted out of the room without even waiting for Sebastian to catch up.
"Cassie, wait! Don't be pissed at me! I was only trying—" He didn't even bother to even wait until Balthazar was through speaking before he busted through the exit doors and stormed his way into the parking lot, ignoring his heavy heart and even heavier eyes that want to shed tears that no one but Dean deserved to be shed over. Everyone's turning against you, Cassie, the dark voice locked inside his head mocked gleefully as they mused, how long before the mighty Dean Winchester does the same?
Castiel's heartbeat was starting to stutter out of control like it had that one night from hell as his breath began to shallow out. They're abandoning me, everyone's abandoning me, it's happening again…
"Cassie, what's up?" A concerned voice came from behind him but Castiel didn't stop. He had to leave—leave before everyone else screws him over like the last time. But where else would ever want a fucked up kid like Castiel Novak? That's what the whole world had been telling him all along yet he foolishly thought maybe Dean would to come in and steal him away from the hell around him.
But Dean's straight and Castiel had never heard of such a cruel and heart-crippling fate of being the near the person you love more than anything in the whole world and knowing that they could never feel the same.
How could he, the morbid voice demanded in a cackle, have you seen yourself? Creepy owl-like eyes, skin as deathly pale as a diseased person on their deathbed, uncut messy black hair…you're disgusting.
The only thing that snapped him out of his daze of self-loathing was a single hand clasped on his shoulder. Instant panic spread through him like a wild fire as he flung himself away from the person behind him and covered his head with his arms, "P-Please, stop. D-Don't…Don't hurt me." The words felt familiar on his tongue, except this time he wasn't vomiting up blood as Michael took another breath-taking blow to his abdomen.
"Cassie, I would never hurt you." The soft words spoken caused for Castiel to slowly lower his hands and finally take a look of who it was in front of him. It was Gabriel (of course it was since not many people could tell him that and sound that sincere and honest) who had worry and concern written all over on his usual smug and cheerful face.
"Castiel, what happened?" Gabriel asked softly as he took another step towards him.
Castiel's throat felt like he had been gargling sawdust but finally grounded out the words in a painfully hysterical voice, "Why didn't God just let me die? Why couldn't he just send me to hell so I can be done with this shit?" He didn't usually cuss like that but when he did, it was only because he was too emotional to even watch his language.
Gabriel's face displayed pain as he said those words, like Castiel's comments were physically slicing him in two, and took a careful step towards him, asking gently, "Cassie, have you been taking your medication?"
"They're poison, Gabe! Naomi was the one who gave them to me," Castiel hissed angrily, wondering how he couldn't see how much of an evil monster that woman was, "I had to stop taking them, Gabriel. It was going to kill me; they said she was planning to kill me."
Gabriel shook his head as he slowly slid his arm through Castiel's and gently led the violently shaking boy in his car, "Come on, we need to go see Dr. Joshua, okay? He's going to help you; just like last time."
"He doesn't help," Cas told him hurtfully as he gripped onto Gabriel's arm for dear life, scared that he'll leave him too, "They come back. They'll always come back. Just face it, Gabriel, I'm turning into my father—"
"You are nothing like him!" Gabriel snapped sternly as he caught Castiel's chin and forced his brother to look at him, "He abandoned you; he abandoned his whole family. You're better than that, Cas. You're better than him."
Castiel shook his head and opened his mouth to argue, but Gabe shushed him as he led the boy to his car and flung the passenger car door open before slipping Cas inside and shutting it again. Gabriel whipped around to go to the driver's side but stopped abruptly once he saw Sam Winchester looking at him with wide eyes, "Gabe, is Cas okay?"
"You saw nothing, Sammy. Got it?" Gabe growled, causing Sam to stare at him wildly before nodding weakly in agreement.
"Tell Dean-o to stay the fuck away from Cas or I'll make sure he never walks again," Gabriel said grimly as he turned his back to the freshmen and began going to the other side of the car, "Trust me, it's better for both of them." Before Sam could respond, Gabriel piled into the car and drove out of the school parking lot, leaving the youngest Winchester staring bewilderedly at them as the car disappeared off into the distance.
"Sammy, what the hell are you doing?" Dean's voice behind him finally shook Sam out of his daze as he turned around to see his older brother staring questionably at him, "The car's this way, Dude." Sam was tempted to tell him; ask him what the heck he did to cause Cas to act so…well, crazy but somehow he managed to hold his tongue.
"Sorry, I was just…daydreaming, I guess." Sam said quietly, which Dean had replied with an eye roll as he took his brother gently by the arm and led him to the Impala.
Meanwhile, as Cas leaned his head against the cool glass of the window watching the surrounding trees and telephone poles pass by, he blurted out abruptly, "I love him. Why can't anyone just accept that?"
Gabriel's grip on the steering wheel tightened and he remained silent for awhile until he eventually let out a long sigh, "You're young, Cassie. You don't know what love is."
But he does and he's never known such a pain that could burn a hole right through his chest and send utter heartbreak he could feel ache all over his body.
Dean laid down on his springy mattress and stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, trying to decide what to do as the clock drifted closer and closer to eight. It's a test, Dean thought to himself glumly, Cas is just trying to test me to see if I'm trustworthy enough to spill the beans on his spoiled family.
But couldn't he have he had scheduled it a time when Dean wasn't busy literally charming the pants off a bubbly blonde? Castiel had known that his date was scheduled at that exact time and yet he still was forcing Dean to make a choice: either he gets to relax for once and have meaningless sex with a clueless lower-class chick or finally get to know the truth about the mysterious blue eyed boy that always made his stomach twist and head spin every time he smiled and exposed those glistening white teeth.
Why was Cas doing this to him? Was the truth about himself so secretive that the usually selfless and understanding boy had to make Dean choose between a beautiful woman or a boy he had known for a few short days in an act of desperation so his secrets could stay forever buried under the shell Cas had covered himself in?
"Dammit, Cas," Dean sighed out bitterly as he pushed himself to his feet and walked out into the living room, "I hope you're fucking worth it."
Sam, who was sitting on the couch studying from one of his brainy textbooks, looked up as he heard Dean's angry footsteps and raised an eyebrow once he saw his brother's pissed off expression, "Finally done moping in your room?"
"Put the book away, Sammy," Dean said flatly as he removed the textbook out of his brother's grasp, "You're goin' on a date."
Sam's annoyed expression was soon replaced with confusion, "Excuse me?"
After dropping Sam off at Jessica Lee Moore's house, Dean drove straight to Fifth Street and parked his car. He strolled through the twilighted forest in search of the damn field Cas had blabbered on about and ten minutes later, he finally caught sight of the blue eyed boy.
Castiel was sitting on the damp ground with his knees hugged tightly to his chest as he started drawing aimlessly in the soft dirt with a slender stick. The image made Dean's heart hammer out of his chest and he took a deep breath before stepping into Cas' line of vision.
"Dude, do you ever stop doodling?" Dean's sudden voice seemed to break Castiel out of his trance as his startled blue eyes snapped to the Winchester, his body tensing up as his eyes widened at seeing him.
"D-Dean," He finally squeaked out, his obvious shock speaking loudly at his bewildered expression, "Y-You came. I-I thought—"
"Like I said, Cas," Dean said flatly as he strolled over and plopped down next to Cas, "I won't let this go. Not for anything."
Castiel looked deep into Dean's eyes, as if looking for any trace of trickery or doubt, but seemed to find nothing as the boy took in a shaky breath and averted his gaze to stare at the ground, "Where do you want me to start?"
"Let's take this back to the beginning," Dean said slowly, "Why were you put up for adoption?"
Author's Note: Oh my, I am so sorry. This was the most angsty thing I think I've ever written and I almost cried when I finished it (I'm a little soft-hearted when it comes to my babies). And I know you guys were looking for more hilarity in this chapter but the reason why I chose to write it like this was to show you how really depressed (and a little insane) Cas really was. Also, I regret to inform you that there is a lot more angst to come (but there'll be lots of fluff and romance too so don't give up on me just yet); especially when you get to hear Castiel's dramatic backstory (that's next chapter, my darlings!). Anyway, if you like this story please follow/favorite or, even better, leave a review (yes, I would really like if you did that option). Again, I am sorry I had to do that to you.