Archive of Our Own

PART ONE:

THURSDAY NIGHT, 7:21 PM  

Dressed in a pale blue crop top and bright yellow shorts, with a matching headband, young camp counselor Dean, sitting stiffly just outside the camp director’s office, dreaded the consequences of his actions. His grave actions.

He was under strict orders from Ellen, his camp director, to not move a muscle until she finished dealing with the paramedics.

Swallowing hard, Dean wondered how could he have been so stupid. So reckless.

How in the world could he ever get out of this predicament? 

Ash, his fellow camp counselor, was quietly standing beside him, waiting as well, as he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His Walkman attached to his hip, and headphones around his neck as always. But no music was playing. Not tonight.

While Dean appreciated the gesture of solidarity from his friend, he was convinced that it would probably be in Ash’s best interest to not be within his vicinity after this mess.

After all, Ash had nothing to do with this. He had just been the first person to cross Dean’s path and come to his aid. Castiel’s aid.

Ellen knew this. It had been why Dean had been instructed to wait. Unlike Ash.

And yet, Dean couldn’t find it in himself to tell him to leave.

Feeling the frenzy building up, particularly after noticing his handmade beaded bracelet, Dean stood up and began pacing. He faced the wall plastered with group pictures of the past decades. The cheery smiles of kids. Teenagers with their arms over each other’s shoulders. Fists sprung in the air, displaying a triumphant attitude.

They were all the same. No matter the year. Starting from Camp Lazarus Lake’s opening in the ’60s all the way to this year’s group, 1983.

Dean’s attention was drawn to the picture taken on his very first year at camp. He had been a young camper then. A decade ago. He remembered feeling droplets on his arms and face right before the photographer had yelled, “Say cheese!”

Staring back at his pixelated younger self, Dean craved that meaningful feeling of belonging that was so apparent in the picture.

In light of what had happened that night, he doubted he would ever be able to experience that again. In fact, he was pretty sure the night had tainted his whole experience at the camp. And then some.

And that was when the silence was broken by a slamming door.

“WHAT IN THE HELL HAPPENED?”

Dean turned sharply.

Ellen had barged in and her harsh look was demanding an explanation. Before Dean could open his mouth, however, she told him, with her finger pointed at him, “I ought to fire you on the spot. You could have killed him! And what if that had been a child?”

“I know! I—don’t you think I know that!” he cried. “I’m sorry, I—like I said earlier at the—it was an accident.”

“That’s not really reassuring. And—”

Silence.

Standing still, she studied him intensively.

Which only increased Dean’s guilt and anxiety. He decided that he preferred it when she was yelling at him. At least he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Feeling a lump in his throat, he asked, “And what?”

She then shot a look at Ash, who hadn’t moved one inch. He remained quiet, perhaps fearing he would get lashed at too.

Ellen let out a deep breath, taking the time to weigh her words. She then scanned their surroundings, as though she wanted to make sure that nobody else was listening in on their conversation.

And finally, after stepping forward, she asked, nearly whispering, “It was an accident, right?”

“Of course, it was!”

“Jesus, Ellen,” breathed Ash. “How could you possibly think it wasn’t?”

She twisted her lips for a second, and shot another look at Ash, before returning her gaze to Dean.

“Look, I’ll be straight with you, Dean: this doesn’t look good for you. Everyone knows there’s this weird feud between Camp Lazarus Lake and Camp Revelation, and you—you’ve never been shy expressing your feelings about the other camp—”

“But—”

“Especially when they hold their weekly visit,” continued Ellen. “I’m not saying you’ve been encouraging bad behaviour with the children about this…but you—and others—have held that grudge for a long time. Since your camper days.”

With his jaw clenched, Dean took a deep breath in, determined to keep his mouth shut, for fear of incriminating himself further.

The fact was that, of course, everything Ellen had just said was indeed the truth.

Minus one detail.

And it was kind of an important detail.

“So, with that in mind, I gotta ask you again, Dean: was this really an accident? I’m not saying you wanted to murder the guy, but maybe you wanted to scare him and things escalated?”

“No, he didn’t. That’s not—” Ash started saying, but stopped mid-sentence when Dean lifted his hand. Dean appreciated Ash coming to his aid, but he had to be the one clarifying this situation. It wasn’t up to his friend.

“Ellen, I get where you’re coming from and I admit that I’ve been kind of shitty about the rivalry thing and all,” he said, trying to control his shaky voice. “But I—I swear this had nothing to do with this. The oppos—I would have never done something that stupid for payback or—I swear. It really was an accident and I feel awful.” And after a big gulp of air, as he had said all this in a frantic manner, he asked, “He—is he—he’s gonna be okay, right?“

She held her stern stare at him a few moments more, wanting to convey that she still wasn’t happy about this situation, before softening her eyes a bit, assessing Dean’s genuine concern about Castiel.

“We can’t know for sure yet, but the paramedics think he’ll pull through well enough. It looks like the wound wasn’t too invasive, miraculously enough, and he didn’t lose too much blood, so they suspect that no major artery was hit. Again, by some miracle. They said he’s extremely lucky. He’ll need stitches, and he can kiss goodbye any plans of hiking—anything too physically demanding, really—for the remainder of the summer, but, all in all, he should be fine.”

Dean let out a deep sigh of relief. He had to fight back tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

“You are so not off the hook though,” she warned him. “I am so mad at you, I could wrangle you, boy. Anyone else would have fired you by now, and the only reason why I’m holding off at the moment is because I’ve known you for a long time, and now that you’ve confirmed that it was indeed accidental, I know you will never make that mistake again.”

“I know I fucked up, Ellen. I’m sorry for—I’m sorry for a lot of things. I should just resign, but that would mean I’d leave Sam behind and I don’t—I can’t do that…”

“Dean, no. Until we know more of Castiel’s condition and his account of the incident, no official decision will be made. I have to bench you for the next few days though. After everything, that I must. And as for Sam, no matter what happens, you know we got that kid covered, right?”

Dean nodded. He knew it, but he didn’t want to take anything for granted, and hearing Ellen telling him so was immensely reassuring.

“So for tonight, head back to your cabin. It’s empty seeing as everyone is at the Visyak rock site camping under the stars, and we’ll figure out the rest once the morning comes.”

As Ellen was leaving to have words with the director of the other camp, she paused by the door and said, “I need to warn you though, that even if Castiel pulls through and you get to stay on, which I’m hoping will be the case for both, you’re not out of the woods yet. I’m not a lawyer, but I think he has grounds to charge you with something. So, I strongly suggest you get your butt to the hospital tomorrow morning and beg for forgiveness to the wounded soldier because this might still turn ugly for you.”

Terrific. The very thing Dean dreaded the most. Facing Castiel in order to ask him for something he doubted very much he deserved.

“Also, what on earth are you wearing?”

Confused, Dean looked down, only to remember his yellow shorts and crop top outfit.

His humiliation was now perfect.

PART TWO:

EARLIER THAT DAY, THURSDAY 2:24 PM

Breathing in the fresh air, listening to the fun mixture of laughter and water sloshing around as he was peddling, Dean was grinning from ear to ear.

The sun was shining ahead and there was a faint breeze caressing his face, just enough to take the edge off the summer heat.

When the bow of his canoe finally touched the shore, cheers from a small crowd of campers and counselors echoed all around on the beach.

Dean spotted Sam, waiting with his friends, Ava and Andy, and gave his younger brother a smug look, saying “Told ya.”

To which Sam replied with an exaggerated roll of eyes, typical of a teenager.

Once Dean had carefully stepped out of the canoe, both feet now wet, Sam appeared at his side, and helped him pull the canoe closer to shore to make it easier for the cheery campers still aboard to exit.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

“Sam,” he reminded him. “And no problem.”

Just as Dean began instructing the campers to get out, one by one, in an orderly fashion, with Sam collecting their life jackets, to their left, Donna’s canoe touched the shore.

“You cheated!” she said.

“She’s a sore loser,” Dean told the kids and Sam. “Don’t listen to her.”

“Oh yeah? I want a rematch. One where an entire bag of—I don’t even know—isn’t tied to our canoe slowing us down!”

Dean blinked and looked at the kids for a culprit. Audrey was holding on to her bear, as always, and Todd was known for keeping out of trouble. Cole, on the other hand, kept avoiding Dean’s eyes.

“I don’t know anything about that, sorry,” said Dean, lifting an eyebrow at Cole. “But fine. Rematch tomorrow. Same time.” And then, looking at Donna with a wide smile he added, “If you don’t mind losing twice, that is.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said, trying to sound menacing. But Dean knew she only half meant it.

The next group of campers took off with the pair of canoes, including Sam and his friends, prompting Dean to not miss the opportunity to make a slightly embarrassing scene by yelling, “BE CAREFUL, SAMMY!” simply because he knew it would annoy him. Then he, Donna and their respective group made their way away from the lake, heading to the Main Cabin. They had less than an hour before leaving for the Visyak Rock site, and thought they should slowly get the kids ready. They were stopped abruptly, however, when an excited child came at them full speed.

“Dean! Dean! Look what I have!”

Recognizing Lucas, Dean squatted to meet him at eye level.

It was great to see the kid finally coming out of his shell. When he had first arrived, the poor kid had barely been speaking and had kept mostly to himself. Thankfully, with patience and kindness—and allowing him to remain at the Sinclair Cabin, where arts and crafts were the key attraction—the kid eventually started becoming a bit more open.

It had become nearly a daily thing for Lucas to draw something for Dean.

And Dean couldn’t help but find it absolutely adorable.

Thinking that the kid was eager to share his latest drawing, he was surprised to find that Lucas presented him something else today.

A bracelet.

“It’s for you!” he said with excitement.

“For me?” He took hold of the thin black bracelet with dark beads on it. Dean thought it was pretty cool-looking. “Awe. Thanks, buddy. You didn’t have to do that.”

Lucas shook his head. “I didn’t. Counselor Castiel did.”

Dean blinked.

“He made it for you and he wanted you to have it. Bye!”

And then he ran off as quickly as he had appeared, offering no additional information.

Mildly stunned, Dean stayed put for a second, repeating the words he had just heard on a loop, trying to make sure he hadn’t misheard him.

He then looked around him, searching for Castiel, hoping he might have been watching Lucas executing the exchange.

A bunch of kids from both camps were playing dodgeball in the open area reserved for sports games. The match seemed to be supervised by Doug, one of Dean’s fellow counselors.

About ten of the youngest campers, paired up, were walking in a straight line behind Tamara. Judging by their direction, they were on their way to the Lakeview Lodge; no doubt, on their way to snack and a nap.

But in the sea of kids and scrawny teenagers, the counselors usually popped up rather easily. And Castiel, being a counselor from the other camp, and therefore wearing one of those bright blue vests—for reasons Dean couldn’t fathom, as it wasn’t like the kids or the staff didn’t know who belonged to which camp—would have definitely stood out.

And yet, no sign of him, his dazzling eyes or his voluptuous lips anywhere.

Dean had only spotted a pair of blue vests way up ahead, close to the line of the woods, and judging by the fair color of their hair, he knew neither was Castiel.

“Dean, watcha got there?” he heard Donna ask him.

Wrapping his hand over the bracelet, a smirk formed itself on his face and he turned around to face her.

“Oh, nothing.”

And then, unable to help himself, he playfully lifted his eyebrows and added, “Just proof of what I suspected all along, that’s all.”

“And what’s that?”

He noticed Ash, with headphones around his neck and rock music blasting from it, standing next to her, and their groups were gone. She and Ash had let the kids go up ahead and join the crowd watching the dodgeball game.

Making sure that none of the campers were close by, listening in, Dean stepped closer.

“You know Cas, right?”

Donna, understanding immediately where Dean was going, gave him a oh-golly-here-we-go-again look, while Ash simply squinted at him.

“Dark haired and blue-eyed dude counselor from our frenemy camp?”

“That’s the one,” confirmed Dean, and then showed them the bracelet as he harbored a triumphant smile.

They stared at him unimpressed.

“A bracelet.”

“Yay?”

“I’m confused,” said Ash. “Did you steal it?”

Both Donna and Dean turned to Ash scandalized.

“No! I didn’t steal it, you moron. It was a gift. He gave it to me. Just now.”

“Oh. Cool.” And then after an awkward pause, Ash said, “I still don’t get it. Why is this so important?”

And that was when Donna intervened. “I can’t believe you missed it, Ash, but since the beginning of the summer, Dean’s been having…a little crush.”

A mischievous grin appeared on Ash’s face. “Did you, now? Fraternizing with the enemy. Bold, Winchester. Bold. I respect it.”

“Well, um, I—I haven’t really done anything yet. It’s been…complicated. Because I—because of the—the fact that…”

“…that everyone knows, Cas probably included, that you’ve been proudly pledging the destruction of the Revelation camp since the rightful age of ten,” Donna finished his sentence.

“Yeah. Um, something like that.”

“Wow. You must really love the guy to eat your own words on that one,” said Ash. “That or you’re really horny.”

“Classy, Ash,” said Donna.

“I try.”

“Anyway,” continued Dean, ignoring Ash’s comment, “I’m at a weird place. I did my best to see if he was interested or not, while also keeping my distance in case he turned out to be just like the rest of his lot.”

“Of course,” said Donna, not at all surprised by Dean’s trust issues.

“It’s been somewhat challenging. Small talk here and there, surrounded by prying eyes, no less, and the guy is pretty hard to read with his deadpan expression. But now, I think I just received the green light I was hoping for!”

And he raised the bracelet again.

And once more, Ash and Donna did not seem to share his opinion.

“You think that’s what this is?”

“He gave this to me,” said Dean. “That means he wants me, right?”

“Um, aren’t those friendship bracelets?” pointed out Donna with caution.

Dean made a face.

He had momentarily forgotten about that small detail.

Shifting on his feet, he said, rather defensively, “Did he make one for any of you?”

They exchanged a look.

“Whatever,” said Dean. “I know I’m right.”

“All right, then what are you going to do about it, Romeo?” asked Ash, now seemingly amused.

Dean paused for a second. There were many options he could explore. But none were very private.

During dinner? Too loud and crowded.

Cozy in front of a bonfire, singing to him with his guitar? Too many eyes.

Skinny dipping in the middle of the night? Plausible. But not ideal, even if extremely tempting. Not to mention fun.

But setting up a secret meeting made Dean feel a tad uneasy about walking into a trap (of his own creation). So, no thank you. There was also the possibility that, despite the late hour and darkness, someone could walk in on them.

And Dean definitely wanted to avoid that outcome.

And then, as he thought of a way to find himself alone with Castiel—other than meeting up in the middle of the night clandestinely, however exciting that may be—the answer came to him.

“You have to cover for me tonight,” he said to Donna. “When we’re bringing our groups to the campsite, you have to cover for me.”

“What? No!”

“Donna, please! Not the whole night! Just a bit at the beginning when everyone leaves down the hiking trail! I’ll meet up later way before nightfall, I promise.”

She shook her head.

He turned to Ash with pleading eyes.

“No can do, Dean-o. Garth is teaming up with one of our camper-neighbor groups to hike there because I’m to be a disciplinary watchdog for a couple of troublemakers for a big chunk of the night. I won’t get to arrive there until super late. Our fearless leader Ellen’s order.”

Dean refocused his attention on Donna.

“Please, please, please, please, please.”

“Why don’t you just talk to him at the site tonight? It’s where we’re all going anyway.”

“That’s the problem! Everyone will be there! I need, you know, privacy. We won’t have two minutes to ourselves with all the kids around.”

“And without you to help me,” she said, annoyed, “I’ll be stuck looking at all our kids and setting up our tents alone with Doug!”

“Exactly! That’s why it’s perfect! You’re welcome.”

“Shut up.”

“Please! Like I said, it won’t be the whole evening. He won’t be able to absent himself for too long, either. Please! I just want to be able to talk to him without any potential distractions.” 

“And more importantly, so you can heavily make-out with him?” asked Ash.

“I mean, if it comes to that...I wouldn't be opposed to that outcome,” he admitted, flashing a smile. “So? Donna?”

“Dean, I want to help, but...I don't know. The kids and then there's Ellen to—”

“Pretty, pretty please? With sugar on top?” 

“All right! All right! Fine! I’ll do it.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou,” he said, giving her a big hug.

“You’re welcome,” she genuinely said, returning his hug.

“Awesome. Okay, we still have an hour or so before then,” he said, looking at his watch. “I should, um, find him and ask him to meet me first—or should I just catch up with him right before so it’s—”

“Woah, hold up,” protested Ash, breaking Dean’s nervous planning. “Um, I mean… that’s it?”

“What?”

“Donna, you’re just doing him this solid like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You do what you want, Hanscum, but if I were you, given how desperate he is, I would make the stakes a little more interesting.”

“Oooooh, I like the way you think. What do you suggest?”

“Ash—guys, come on.”

“Not sure. Hmmm. A couple of laborious favors in the future? A dare he’d have to perform later on tonight? If you choose the latter, make sure to wait until I arrive, pretty please.”

“Good options. I like it. But we need something specific.”

“Guys, please. Stop.”

“Oh! Ask to have his car for a day.”

“WHAT!” Dean’s heart was palpitating.

Ash and Donna exchanged a silent look, knowing they had gone too far.

“I have an idea!” exclaimed Donna, lifting her hand with enthusiasm. And then, before hearing a response, she said eagerly, “How about, for the rest of the day, you have to dress differently? Like the sports uniform of the camp?”

“Crop top and yellow short shorts. Primo choice,” said Ash. “I approve.”

And then they turned to Dean.

“Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts,” he told her.

Which was true. Dean had managed to avoid them for the entire summer, thus far, and back in his camper days as well.

He gave his friends his cocky signature smile, convinced the affair was settled and was ready to return to whatever issue needed tending.

Needless to say, five minutes later, Dean was back wearing the golden shorts and crop top outfit.

And on the lookout for Castiel.

PART THREE:

BEFORE THE INCIDENT, THURSDAY, 3:47 PM

It had taken Dean some time before locating Castiel. He had had to keep his eyes and ears open as he scoured the grounds, asking indirect and vague questions about Castiel so as to not raise suspicion—though nobody but Dean really cared.

And doing it all while wearing a gold headband and shorts, with a crop top.

Goddamn bright yellow shorts.

Truthfully, Dean didn’t really hate it.

It was certainly agreeable to the weather and he didn’t feel as much of an idiot as he initially feared he would.

But it still didn’t feel like him.

He did feel silly. And even hid behind a tree when he spotted his brother and his friends with rackets in their hands. He knew his brother would make fun of him.

As he should. Dean would have a hundred percent done the same.

One way or another, if he was going to wear this for the remainder of the day, Sam—everyone really—would see him in this thing.

But he decided to maintain his dignity as much as he could until he managed to catch up to Castiel at least. Then, if everything went well, which he hoped it would, he wouldn’t care as much.

Hopefully.

He finally located Castiel hopping around—literally—with a few kids and a fellow counselor, not far from the road leading to the gym and archery range.

The curious thing was that Castiel wasn’t wearing his usual blue vest, like the other counselor. He was just wearing jeans and a black shirt.

Which then explained why he had been so difficult to spot all afternoon.

But now that he had, at last, found him, and for his little plan to work, Dean had to act now.

Many groups from Camp Lazarus Lake had already left for the Visyak Rock, and judging by the crowd heading towards the Main Building, everyone from Camp Revelation was readying themselves to get the gear they had brought in earlier that day now too.

So, Dean took a big gulp of air, tried to remain positive and yelled, “Cas, wait up!”

Castiel came to a halt, seemingly confused at who was calling for him.

Until his eyes fell on Dean.

He lifted one hand in salutation.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hi. Thanks for, um, waiting.” He swallowed hard. Noticing the audience to their left, consisting of young kids and the other counselor, Dean asked, “Can I talk to you for a sec? Alone.”

Silence.

“It’s about the bracelet.”

Castiel’s expression remained deadpan as always, but Dean discerned something in his eyes for a very brief moment.

“Hannah, I’ll catch up with you at the site, okay?”

After a moment of hesitation on her part, Dean wasn’t sure she would agree.

But she nodded to him firmly, and continued her path with the rest of the kids, who didn’t seem too upset that Dean was keeping their loving counselor to himself.

He motioned him towards their left, down the quiet road, and they began walking side by side.

“I’m, um, glad I caught you. You were difficult to find.”

“Was I?”

“Yes. How come you’re not wearing the blue vest?” he asked, pointing at his chest.

He had to resist the urge to physically touch him there.

“Oh, right,” said Castiel, having apparently forgotten that detail. “Some of the kids spilled a bunch of red paint this morning, and the vest and my shirt got spoiled. Nothing dramatic, but anyway, I had to put it away for the day and improvise.”

“Ah. Well, that explains it.” He cleared his throat, and they continued their way down the road calmly.

With each step, their surroundings seemed to become quieter and quieter.

Given the hour and the event of the night, Dean knew that the chances of meeting someone on their path, which was leading to the archery range and gym, was unlikely.

He cleared his throat again, and said, “I just wanted to thank you. For the bracelet.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It was totally unexpected. What, um, gave you the idea?”

“We were teaching the younger kids how to make them this morning. Inspiration showed up and I managed to make two before we moved on to the next project.”

Dean frowned. He hadn’t stopped walking, but his pace slowed down for a second.

“Two?”

Castiel turned to him. “Yes. One for you.” And he lifted his right arm. “And one for me.”

“Oh,” said Dean, relieved. He had feared for a brief moment that Castiel had given the other to someone else.

Which would have rendered his whole assessment of the bracelet wrong.

Once that was out of the way, however, Dean worried for another reason.

He remembered Donna’s comment about the bracelet being friendship bracelets.

Not the outcome he was hoping for, either.

“Something wrong?”

Snapping out of his trance, Dean shook his head vehemently. “No.” He took a few steps, continuing walking by his side, and instead of asking him what he truly wished to know, he chickened out and opted for another topic for now.

“So, how do you like being a camp counselor? Was this your first time? I—I know you weren’t here last year, but maybe you worked at another camp?”

“No, this is my first time as a camp counselor. It’s hard work, more than I thought, I confess, but I’m enjoying it immensely.”

“Cool.”

“What about you?”

“Second time being a camp counselor and I’m really loving every minute of it. It’s not really surprising given how much I like this place.”

“Second home?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Dean, amused, “but this place means something to me and I know it’s because of its people. And all…this,” he repeated, gesturing around them. “I’ve been coming here every summer since I was like ten, so, once I got old enough, giving my name to work here was a no-brainer. I thought, if I manage to turn a crummy summer into a fun one for kids, even if just for one kid, then it was worth it.”

Then he paused, realizing what he had just said. His eyes dropped to the ground.

“Sorry, that sounded way less self-aggrandizing in my head.”

“Don’t say that. I didn’t think that’s what it sounded like. I think your motives are very admirable. And from what I can attest of you so far, I think you’re more than pulling it off.”

Plagued with his inability to take a compliment, Dean replied, “You mean out of the, what? Three occasions we crossed paths?”

Castiel squinted at him. But he didn’t seem angry with him. “Well, for one, they were very telling. Particularly the first one.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

“Also,” he continued, “I believe that I am an excellent judge of character. Which is good news for you. Otherwise, I may have let myself be dissuaded by the many warnings I’ve been given about you.”

And there it was, thought Dean.

“Don’t worry,” Castiel said in a kind tone. “It’s not like they circulated a flier with your picture and the word ‘BEWARE’ written on it, but I was told by more than one returning counselor that…you’d be best left alone. People had…stories.”

Dean didn’t doubt that for one second.

“There’s probably a lot of truth in those, um, stories,” he admitted to Castiel. “I assume from my camper days, but that’s neither here nor there, I guess,” he said, trying to not sound too defensive. “Why did you want to talk to me then? Why this?” He lifted his arm, showing the bracelet.

“Regardless of how truthful those stories really are, I didn’t think the persona presented in them matched the one I could definitely see nowadays.” He took a step closer. “Even from afar and on the limited occasions I had the chance to do so.”

Grateful for Castiel’s good nature and compassion, Dean found himself incredibly lucky to have met him at that moment. He didn’t know that many people who would have given Dean the benefit of the doubt that generously considering the circumstances. And not this fast.

Also, as he processed that notion, he then reasoned that Castiel’s last comment strongly supported Castiel’s interest in him.

Friendship bracelets or not.

And now, with Castiel standing so close to him, with an inviting stare, and no one around to interrupt, it dawned on Dean that this was, as they say, the perfect time to make a move.

But his nerves got the better of him, and taking, perhaps, too long to get to that realization, that small window momentarily closed when Castiel took a step back.

“I am curious though, regarding this old feud between the camps. Particularly where you fit into it.”

“I didn’t start it, if that’s what you mean,” said Dean. “The feud was already existing way before I even got here. The sad part was that the two camps were meant to be complementary to each other at the beginning. Lazarus was the original. It opened in the ’60s and grew quickly into the best camp in the whole state. A decade later, Revelation opened its doors on the other side of the lake. I’m told that the idea was ‘what they lack, we got, and vice versa,’ and harmonious cooperation was really intended. While that might have been the case, it slowly turned into a literal territory issue. It got messy and, um, after a while, someone decided that the camps should really interact with each other to move forward. Hoping to create a bond or something. And that’s when the weekly visits between camps started. That’s around the time I came in. So, the tension between the two was still high and…due to bad experiences…and pigheadedness, I contributed to the problem. I admit that.”

“Well, here’s hoping that this rivalry dies down soon, because I find the camps pretty similar and it’s a pity it’s not seen as a positive thing. Same rules. Same vibes. Same layout.”

“Same lake.”

“Exactly. Same activities even. Except one, I think. We don’t have one of those.”

Dean frowned, confused at his comment, and followed Castiel’s gaze.

“You mean the archery range?”

He nodded. “I’ve always meant to try and Revelation doesn’t have one.”

“We can do something about that.”

PART FOUR:

THE INCIDENT, THURSDAY 4:01 PM

With the bow in his left hand, Dean took position, aimed the tip of the arrow exactly at the center of the target. The nock attached to the string, and in between his fingers, he then swiftly pulled the bow drawstring towards him.

His eye still focused on the target, he felt a smile creep on his lips.

And held his position.

Still as a statue.

“See, just like that. All I’d have to do now is let go and bam!”

But instead of doing just that, he lowered his arms and loosened the tension on the string slightly.

He invited Castiel to take position by his side to show him properly.

But Castiel stayed put, a few feet away.

He seemed far more interested in observing Dean than anything else.

“I meant to question you about that earlier, but what’s with your choice of attire today?”

“God, don’t ask.”

“Why? Lost a bet,” he said, amused, as he turned his back to him, examining their surroundings. Or perhaps he was avoiding Dean’s eyes.

“Something like that.”

“Don’t feel bad. I like it.” His back still turned to him.

“You do?”

“Yes. That may sound extremely forward, but it doesn’t leave much to the imagination and…I can’t say I’m very upset about it.”

Had Castiel waited a few seconds later before speaking, it was safe to say that the incident may have been averted.

Or perhaps the fault truly rested on Dean, the person who had been armed with a bow and arrow, ready to shoot, and hadn’t focused a hundred percent on the task at hand. Nevertheless, the fact remained that Castiel said what he said at that precise moment, and then what happened, happened.

Struck by Castiel’s comment, Dean instinctively turned to him and loosened his grip on the nock.

Despite not pulling extensively on the string moments before, it was still a strong enough tension to succeed in shooting Castiel with an arrow in the back of his upper thigh.

About the last outcome he had wished to accomplish.

PART FIVE:

AFTER THE INCIDENT, THURSDAY 4:03 PM

“Oh. Fuck.”

In this unfortunate event, Dean had been grateful for two things.

The first was that Castiel, despite his distress, did not scream his head off, which would have been more than understandable given the circumstances.

His rather calm demeanor, most likely due to shock, allowed Dean to not spin out of control and surrender himself to panic…which could have undoubtedly brought in more stupid decisions and mistakes.

The second was that nobody else had witnessed this embarrassing moment. No children would be left traumatized for life. And no adult would then be in a position to give an agonizing play by play at Dean and Castiel’s expense for the remainder of their days. People would hear of the incident later on, but at the very least, no one had seen it occur.

That also meant, however, that Dean and Castiel were on their own. With nobody to come to their aid.

And this was not good for Castiel.

No longer holding the bow, Dean dropped on his knees next to him.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT!”

Castiel, lying on the grass, was grunting incomprehensible gibberish.

“Cas, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so—HELP!” he finally yelled, looking around them.

As expected, nobody was in sight.

Whatever lifesaving skills he had ever learned momentarily vanished from his mind. The only thought he could process was a voice screaming in his head, “Do not take out the arrow.”

So he didn’t.

While Castiel was bleeding—his jeans were darkening rather quickly around the arrow—a worrisome pool of blood hadn’t manifested itself yet.

The archery range having purposely been set up a little farther from the rest of the camp for safety measures complicated their crisis.

They had to find help at once.

“Can you walk?”

“WALK?”

“I—you need help right the fuck now, Cas. Everyone’s gone to the site by now. Nobody is gonna randomly find us, and I—I don’t want to leave you here on your own, either. With our luck, a freaking bear is gonna pop out of nowhere and come at you.”

“There’s not gonna be a bear,” muttered Castiel, in between loud sharp breaths.

“What about snakes then? Huh? We’re always warning the kids to look out for them.”

Castiel didn’t look happy.

“Yeah, thought so,” said Dean.

So, refusing to leave Castiel by himself and in this poor state, Dean, with little agility and no grace whatsoever, managed to pull a barely conscious Castiel to his feet. His left arm over his shoulder, and seizing him by the waist as best he could, he began dragging him to the infirmary.

All the while repeating how sorry he was.

PART SIX:

THE NEXT MORNING, FRIDAY, 9:06 AM

The idea of facing Castiel again had remained a dreadful thought to Dean all night long. As promised, Ellen had inquired of Castiel’s well-being first thing in the morning, and was pleased to learn that Castiel was indeed doing well.

Given his circumstances, of course. 

Knowing that he couldn’t let his guilt eat him alive and that he owed Castiel a better apology than whatever he had blurted out in his panic the day before, Dean then did as Ellen had instructed him to do: he visited Castiel in the hospital on Friday morning.

His need to acquire visual proof of Castiel’s state had also served as motivation.

So, after a stressful drive, even whilst humming to Blue Öyster Club, and a few directions from the receptionist, Dean found himself standing in the doorway of room 521, carrying a small flower arrangement with a balloon attached to it.

Appearing to be sleeping, Castiel lay on his bed, wearing a thin hospital gown. Not exactly on his back, nor on his side, but rather, in a position between the two. Pillows were placed at his back to prevent him from lying completely on his back, and another pillow was placed in between his legs and knees, with his right leg, his injured one, resting on it.

And while his gown was of a respectable length, due to his position, Dean could discern large bandages wrapped around his upper thigh.

Feeling slightly inappropriate to have let his eyes linger a little too long on this area of Castiel’s body—without his knowledge, no less—Dean shifted his gaze back to Castiel’s face again. 

His eyes were still shut.

Dean chose to take it as a good sign that he was peaceful. At least they were giving him the good stuff, he thought.

Just as he was debating if he should knock or speak to announce his presence, or simply wait until he woke up, he heard Castiel say, “Hello, Dean.”

His voice sounded raspier than usual, and not in a good way.

It suggested a long, sleepless night.

“Cas, hi. Morning. I—I wanted to—is it okay that I’m here? I can lea—come back if you need to, um, rest.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping. I was just resting my eyes.”

Resisting the urge to ask him if he was sure, as he doubted that last statement, Dean swallowed hard, and gave him a firm nod instead.

“Okay, um, I—I won’t be long. I just—I—as I’m sure you know, I came here to apologize. I—I’m so sorry, Cas. I’m so sorry. You—you know it was an accident, right? Please, tell me you know at least that. I—be angry and hate me, but please, tell me you know I didn’t mean it. I would never—I’m such a fucking clumsy idiot. I can’t believe I almost ganked you! You probably won’t ever forgive me—and you shouldn’t—but I—please know that I’m so, so sorry.”

Blurting out an incoherent apology that screamed despair hadn’t been Dean’s plan. But the moment he opened his mouth, his emotions got the better of him. Guilt, in particular.

He braced himself for the worse. He wanted, needed, Castiel to yell at him. To tell him to go screw himself. To order him to get the hell away from him. To expect a call from his lawyer or something.

Because that was what Dean truly believed he deserved at that moment.

But Castiel didn’t do any of those things.

His eyes softened, and even though his movements were limited, he nonetheless tried to reach for his hand. Dean instinctively leaned forward to meet him halfway, while still expecting harsh words.

Their fingers met, and Castiel gently squeezed his hand.

“Dean, I’m not mad at you. Thank you for your apology. I know you didn’t mean me any harm, and you are forgiven.”

Dean let out a short nervous laugh, and said, “Cas, come on. You can’t mean that. I…I shot you.”

“By accident. You said so yourself, no?”

“Well, yeah, but I shot you. Accident or not…I. Shot. You. I nearly struck an arrow in your butt and now you’re in the hospital because of me.”

Castiel frowned. But a smile appeared. “Were you aiming at my butt?”

“No! I wasn’t aiming—I wasn’t aiming at you at all! I wasn’t even pulling on—I don’t even understand how the freaking thing went flying.”

“Relax, Dean. I’m only teasing you. I know you didn’t mean it. You should have seen your face yesterday. Priceless, would be the word to describe it. I was admittedly a tad preoccupied at that moment, but I still managed to notice how truly scared you were. It was evident that you were as shocked by the turn of events as I was. As for apologizing, I lost count of how many times you told me ‘I’m sorry’ on our way to the infirmary and up until the paramedics turned up. Granted, I passed out a few times…so I may have missed one or two.”

Dean let out a short laugh once more, but this time, it was due to genuine laughter, not a stressful reaction.

“So, I repeat: I forgive you,” said Castiel as clearly as can be, with his bright blue eyes staring back at Dean, just as he had done before the incident.

Dean returned Castiel’s gentle squeeze, after feeling his whole body relax.

“Thank you. For saying that and for, um, forgiving me. Saying it means a lot doesn’t really cover it. You’re…you’re really something, Cas.”

“You’re welcome.”

And they both exchanged shy smiles.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, um, I—it felt rude to come in empty handed so…yeah.” Dean put the flower arrangement on the table next to Castiel’s bed for him to see. “Sorry about the balloon. They only had ‘It’s a boy’ left.”

“Thank you. I like it.”

Dean eyed the chair next to the bed.

“Can I sit? Was—are your folks around? Or roommates? Outside of camp, I mean.”

“No, it’s okay. You can sit. My roommate, outside of camp, as you say, was here before work. He’s long gone now.”

“And your folks?” he asked, taking his seat.

“My older brother, Gabriel, whom I called this morning, should arrive at some point this afternoon. He lives in California. He’s just waiting for the next available flight.”

Dean nodded nervously, attempting to remain calm. He was glad to know that Castiel wouldn’t be left to his own devices. It wasn’t that Dean believed that would be the case, but he was relieved to hear that confirmation.

“I—I feel incredibly stupid asking you this, but how are you feeling?”

“Don’t feel stupid. I’m okay. Tired. And not my best, but I’m okay.”

Dean had noticed that, despite appearing clear of mind and loquacious, Castiel often blinked, unusually so, as though his eyelids were heavy, and he was fighting off fatigue.

While Dean wished he could stay longer, he took it as his cue to end his visit and let Castiel rest.

The second he voiced his intention, however, Castiel requested the opposite.

“I’d like you to stay if that’s possible.”

“It is, but you need to rest. I promise I’ll come back.”

“I’m fine right now. Please? Until the nurse returns to check on me, at least?”

To which Dean agreed, naturally.

Now that Dean had been reassured of Castiel’s well-being, and that he miraculously didn’t hold Dean’s dangerous clumsiness against him, the vibe of the room soon changed.

He made sure to not forget his surroundings, however, but slowly and surely, as they moved the topic of discussion to more joyful things, the heaviness of doom was no longer hovering over them.

Dean was very pleased to learn that Castiel was also a fan of Led Zeppelin and BOC, as well as his affinity for cheeseburgers and drive-in theaters. Castiel inquired about Dean’s family, which gave Dean the opportunity to boast about his genius brother. A topic he never ran short on.

The nurse eventually came and Dean left the room briefly to let Castiel have his privacy. But once she left, he popped his head into the doorway and found Castiel waiting for him still. His position had changed, but not by much. A little more on his back and pillows had been altered, but not more than that.

Dean wondered, once again, if he should let Castiel rest, as he took his seat back.

He then felt Castiel’s fingers playing with his bracelet.

“You’re still wearing it.”

“Of course.”

“I regret not having given it to you myself.”

Dean blinked. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was worried. Of what you might say. Of—of rejection. I had a good feeling you weren’t as bad as everyone let you out to be, but that wouldn’t mean that you would…um…”

“…be into you?”

It was the first time since Dean had met him that Castiel appeared anxious.

And after everything he had gone through, Dean didn’t want to make him suffer any longer. So, taking hold of his hand again, he slid his chair closer to the bed, and told him with his cocky smile, “I am. Into you. That’s why I wanted to thank you in private yesterday. I—I saw it as your quirky and adorable way of flirting, but I was reminded of friendship bracelets and…you know. I wasn’t sure what you meant by it. Plus, there’s my weird history with Camp Revelation, as you also know…so I didn’t know if it was a trap or if it would be a huge turn off for you and…yeah. But then you complimented my—how was it you worded it? Ah, yes, my outfit that ‘doesn’t leave much to the imagination.’ That’s when I gathered that I had a solid chance and my brain fried on the spot.”

Castiel’s eyes widened.

“I—I forgot I said that.”

“I haven’t. Don’t think I ever will. In a very good way.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.”

“So…just so we’re clear, because I am heavily medicated, the feeling is mutual?”

“Very. Yes.”

Both grinning at each other, Dean felt a giddy excitement spread in his chest.

“What now?” asked Castiel. “I’d ask you out, but I literally won’t be able to take you anywhere for some time.”

“That’s all right. We should probably wait and revisit this conversation until you’re, you know, lucid anyway.”

“Okay,” said Castiel, slowly shutting his eyes. As though he was readying himself to dream about it. “What about a kiss, though?”

His eyes were still shut.

Dean kissed the back of Castiel’s hand.

“That’s nice, but that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m afraid that anything else more than that would also be unethical of me given your state. It’s actually worse than the date.”

“All right,” muttered Castiel.

Leaning towards him though, Dean fondled Castiel’s temple, and whispered, “Don’t worry, we’ll get there. Lots of things to be looking forward to. It doesn’t matter when, I just want to cozy up next to you. With a warm fire. Under the stars. Singing you your favourite song. Unless you think that’s too corny.”

He felt Castiel’s fingers tighten around his.

“Anything you want, okay? In the meantime, rest. And I promise I’ll be back tomorrow.”

And he pressed his lips on his forehead.

Which he did on the next day as well when he returned for his visit, and on the day after that, and the day after that, and all the other ones after that, until the day Castiel, who was finally no longer administered a large number of painkillers, met his lips unexpectedly.

And with his arms wrapped around him, Dean gave in to the well-awaited deep kiss. 

And given the warmth that spread through his entire body, this tender kiss had been well worth the wait.

PART SEVEN:

NEARLY A MONTH AGO, THURSDAY 4:01 PM

“Come on, Lucas. Are you sure you don’t want to try a collage?” said Dean, taking a seat next to him. “I promise the crayons will still be there after. Here,” he said, grabbing a pair of scissors with a bunch of construction papers. “I’ll help you if you want.”

Lucas wasn’t one of the kids from Dean’s group. But Dean had been asked to pitch in that particular morning. It had been pouring outside, and because of the strong risk of thunderstorms, it had been decided that the kids should remain indoors. Dean and Donna’s groups were among the groups assigned to the Lakeview Lodge, where the kids could play board games until the storm had passed. Most of the counselors were there, which meant dealing with a large number of kids about ready to climb the walls.

Nearly as much as Dean was.

No, thank you.

So, when they asked a couple of volunteers to help with the younger groups at arts and crafts, situated at Sinclair Cabin, Dean thought why not.

His group was no troublemakers, certainly angels when compared to how he had been at their age. He knew they would behave, and that they were, at the very least, under capable hands. 

So there he was. Trying his best to be of good use.

He liked Lucas. The kid wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, he just wanted to be left alone with his drawings.

For some reason, the kid seemed to be warming up to Dean. Though he remained quiet.

Dean was hoping to make him try something new, but the kid was determined.

Apparently, he knew what he liked.

Dean couldn’t really fault him for that.

After suggesting to him a few other things he could do—painting, carving, even clay—Dean caved in and decided to let the kid enjoy his drawing. The rain had already made the day miserable enough as it was, there was no need to force the shy kid into something he clearly didn’t want to do.

“All right, buddy. You continue your picture. I see you could use more colors though. How about I go get more for you?”

The kid stopped and lifted his eyes. He nodded. And an actual smile appeared on his brave little face.

Feeling like he had done good, Dean stood up and turned quickly, eager to succeed in his task.

And that was when, as he was rushing across the room, he came face-to-face with someone.

Someone who had bright blue eyes.

The most piercing blue eyes that Dean had ever seen in fact. 

“Shit. Sorry, I—I didn’t see you there.”

“No harm done. At least, you weren’t holding anything sharp,” said the man.

He had a very low voice. Incredibly enticing. Seducing even. 

“I’m Castiel. Nice to meet you.”

“Um, Dean. I’m Dean. Same.”

“Hello, Dean. Interesting nails.”

Dean looked down at his own hands, mildly confused, before remembering that Donna had helped him put nail polish on his nails the night before when he had seen her do it for Ash.

He then noticed that Castiel’s nails were also coated in bright red.

Dean smiled faintly and said, before meeting his eyes again, “Same.”

They stayed there without moving for some time. Dean wasn’t sure how long. All he knew was that he couldn’t stop staring at him. 

And his heavenly smile. 

It took a small child of five requesting help from Castiel to break the spell.

Castiel nodded at Dean, silently excusing himself, before joining the child in need of help a couple of tables away.

After watching him walk away, Dean slowly continued towards the end of the room, where all the equipment and tools were stored. As he selected a bunch of crayons of the brightest colors, one by one, and dropped them in a small basket, he glanced in Castiel’s direction a few times.

And continued to do so even once he had long returned next to Lucas.

It would take him about half an hour before even noticing that Castiel was wearing the blue vest of Camp Revelation.

And about three seconds to decide that he didn’t care.

Dean continued eyeing him for the remainder of the afternoon. Making sure to observe him when he wasn’t looking.

Which was funny, because Castiel was doing the exact same thing to Dean.  

THE END