Chapter Text
***Day 1
Cas walks away from the rest of the students shortly after lunch with a sigh of relief. He was glad his history teacher Ms. Barnes agreed to let him explore more of the exhibits as long as he met up with the class later. So he set a timer on his phone and goes to learn about early American settlers. Soon he is lost, but not in a bad way. He is soaking up the information, writing down interesting things, and making sketches of the interesting exhibits.
"Excuse me, do you have the time?"
Cas startles at the voice. He looks up from the ancient Egyptian display he is currently sketching and sees a middle-aged man dressed like a teacher--nice blue button down, brown sport coat, and navy slacks--smiling at him.
"I'm sorry, sir. What did you say?" Cas asks politely, pushing his hair out of his face.
"I asked for the time." The man's eyes crinkle as he chuckles. "I'm sorry but you've just smeared black stuff all over your face."
"Huh?" Cas frowns and looks at his messy hand. Of course, he rolls his eyes at himself, stuffing his sketch pad and charcoals into his backpack, and tries to wipe it off with his hands.
"I do this all the time," says Cas in a huff, put out with himself.
"You're just making it worse." The man reaches inside his sport coat and pulls out a red handkerchief. "You are quickly becoming not PC. Here use this."
Cas thanks him and tries again.
"That's not…" The man looks around and points. "There is a restroom right over there." He puts a hand on Cas' shoulder.
"I'm sorry, you asked the time." Cas walks the way the man guides him, too preoccupied with the mess on his skin.
"I have to say, you're quite colorful." He gestures to Cas. "It's okay. I understand how busy college students can get. All engrossed in their projects." The man holds the door and ushers Cas inside.
"I go to Springfield High. My sophomore class is here for a World History project." Cas moves to the sinks and sighs at his face. He sets down his backpack and turns on the water to wet the handkerchief. "Mother's going to kill me." He fusses. "Pastels are so hard to get out."
Sure enough he was so wrapped up in drawing that he got charcoal and oil pastels all over the cuffs, sleeves, and the front of his white button down.
"I'm sure she can work her magic on it and get all that out. I suspect this has happened before." The man stood behind him looking at him through the mirror.
"Yes, unfortunately. I try to remember, but I get caught up. I wish I had worn a t-shirt, but Mother insisted," Cas mumbles the last to himself. He finishes cleaning the best he can, rolling up his sleeves to hide the smudges, not noticing the man is so close until he turns around and nearly bumps into him. "Oh, sorry."
The man steps back between him and the door. He has a strange look in his eyes but Cas shrugs it off. He gets some paper towels and dries off. It is then he realizes what he has done. He looks at the man. "I must apologize, I used this to wash." He holds the damp and now stained handkerchief out. "Let me clean it." He turns and squirts soap onto it and scrubs.
"There is no need, I am sure it will come out in the wash," the man says, his voice a low whisper.
Cas glances at him. He is standing too close again and his voice sounds weird. Cas doesn't have time to ponder it because the door opens and in walks Dean.
"Cas, ya fucking fag, Ms. Barnes is looking for you and she is pissed. Did you turn off your damn phone?" says Dean, frowning before he walks into a stall. "Or too busy sucking cock?"
"Shut up." Cas doesn't want to deal with Dean's homophobia today. "Why is she mad? I set an alarm." He drops the cloth into a sink and digs in his pocket for his phone. "My phone died. What time is it?"
The toilet flushes and Dean walks out to a sink. As he washes his hands, he says, "It's 2:45. We have been looking for your fairy ass for the past hour. Ms. Barnes is ready to call the police." Dean dries his hands and pops Cas on the back of the head. "You screwed up this trip, idiot."
"Stop that. Let her know I am on my way." Cas hated when Dean did that to others and was furious he did it to him. Cocky jock bastard.
"Tell her yourself, fag." Dean flips him off as he leaves.
Cas frowns at Dean's departing back. Dean is so hateful and annoying. He shakes his head and notices the man is gone. He picks up the wet handkerchief, finishes cleaning it, rinses and wrings it out. With a sigh, he grabs his backpack, shrugs it on, and heads for the door. A loud boom causes him to stop and look up.
Frowning he looks around trying to determine the direction of the sound, when the ceiling starts to fall. Cas dives under the row of sinks as the lights go out. The sound is horrendous and goes on forever. Debris and dust is everywhere. He covers his mouth with the wet cloth as he hears breaking glass, loud booms and crashes, and what sounds like splintering in a rapid succession of snaps and cracks assault his ears. Squeezing his eyes shut he covers his ears and head the best he can, pressing his body as close to the wall, praying the earth will stop moving, and he will not be crushed.
***