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The last punch felt numb.
As Gordon's fist drove into his stomach, knocking another haggard breath out of his lungs, Castiel closed his eyes and focussed on his latest English assignment. After all, the tedious concept of reading Great Expectations cover to cover, was a welcome distraction from the faraway pain sprouting in his abdomen.
As Alistair yanked him forward by the collar and spat in his face, he wondered what Gabriel would be making for dinner later on. Would they take out again, or would there be a home cooked meal waiting for him when he got back? He wished for the latter; there were few things that could beat his brother's cooking. One wouldn't think it to look at him, but Gabriel was quite the chef.
"You had enough yet, fag?"
As Lilith dragged her perfectly pedicured nails across his cheek, shoving his bag hard into his chest while he slumped to the ground, he thought back to the handsome boy he'd seen talking to Sam earlier on. Castiel had wanted to approach them both (he and Sam were technically friends), but the stranger was obviously a senior, and far too 'cool' to converse with someone like him. Even so, the dazzling smile he'd sent his way had been enough to make Castiel shudder with teenage excitement.
"You gonna cry, huh? You gonna shit your pants, freak?"
As Ruby giggled and slammed him against the lockers with her heel, he tried to look for a clock somewhere in the corridor. The bell for last lesson had rung several minutes earlier, just moments before he'd been jumped outside the toilets by the usual gang. If he missed his bus, he wouldn't be getting home anytime soon.
"I said, cocksucker, have you had a fucking 'nuff?!"
Castiel snapped out of his daze with a groan. His only hope of making a quick escape would be giving them what they wanted – a scared little freshman begging for mercy. It was far from pleasant, playing the victim, but he didn't really fancy walking home in the pouring rain with nothing but his trenchcoat to protect him from the downpour.
"Okay," He wheezed out, flailing his arms in feigned desperation, "Please, stop!"
Alistair grinned, "What was that?"
"Please, stop."
"You hear that guys? He wants us to stop!"
"Please, Alistair," He pleaded in the most whiny, pathetic voice he could manage, "I just want to go home now!"
Lilith and Ruby cackled like a couple of witches in the corner, and Alistair turned to Gordon with a smirk. They snorted, nodded their heads, and looked down on Castiel as if he was some kind of wounded animal, all fake sympathy and mocking remorse.
"Oh," Gordon covered his heart with his hand, "We're so sorry, Novak. We didn't know you wanted us to stop!"
Ruby scoffed, "Man, you look terrible… Is there something we can do?"
"Should we call an ambulance?"
"Or a teacher?"
"Hang on a sec, guys," Alistair gasped, "Don't we have that thing we need to get to?"
"Oh, yeah," Ruby hummed, "That thing. Oops!"
"Guess we don't have time to call for help. Sorry about that."
"Wish we could do something."
"We'll make it up to you later though," Gordon said with a wink, "Same time tomorrow, yeah?"
Castiel cupped his swollen jaw gingerly, managing a stiff half-nod in their general direction; he didn't want to satisfy their sick craving for human misery with further words.
"It's a date," Lilith cooed, "Seya tomorrow, Novak!"
"Later, fag!"
"Get better soon!"
The blood oozing from his lower lip was thick and sticky against his shirt. His head throbbed with every shift, his gut wrenched with every breath. He felt like death, in other words. And he'd almost definitely missed the bus if the clock in Miss Harvelle's room was even remotely accurate.
And to make matters worse, it wasn't just raining; it was pouring it down. Thick, heavy lashes splashed against the front steps, flowing into the cracks and creating a minefield of puddles in every direction. Even the light spray bouncing off the edge of the molding above was enough to soak through the sleeves of his trenchcoat in 2.5 seconds. There was no way he was getting home warm and dry like he'd hoped to.
With a sigh, he braced himself for the icy shower, and stepped out into the rain. He was drenched before he even had time to breathe, and the cold was almost suffocating as it dripped down his collar.
A quick sprint, that's all he needed to do. He'd be home in no time.
But before he could make a run for it, the pounding rain against his head eased up somewhat, and he was suddenly standing next to another person. A rather handsome person, to be precise, one with kind, green eyes and a familiar smile.
"Hey!" The stranger called over the rain, "You wanna ride?!"
Castiel gawped. Was this even real, or had Alistair punched him harder than he'd thought?
"I said, d'you wanna a ride?!"
"What?!"
"You wanna a ride?!"
"Oh," He replied, utterly confused, "Uh, yes! Yes, please!"
"Alright, then! C'mon!"
They started to move, and only then did Castiel realize he was being shielded by a jacket of some sort. Even with the earthy scent of the rain, he could smell leather and gasoline, and the faint whiff of pastry surrounding him. It was wonderful.
"My baby's just over there!"
"Your what?!"
"My car!"
They ran down the final steps and across the carpark. The rain was near blinding as they pushed on through it, engulfing them in an endless smudge of white-streaked nothingness, but the stranger seemed to know where he was going. Castiel knew it was ridiculous to trust someone you'd only just met, but he couldn't help but feel safe, tucked neatly into the boy's side as they splashed through the puddles together.
"Here!" The guy ducked out from under the jacket, "Hang on a sec!"
Castiel could faintly hear the jangling of keys, and then the slam of a car door. He sighed in relief, jiggling impatiently on the spot for the stranger's return.
"Alright, c'mon!"
He was suddenly shoved into a long black vehicle and out of the cold. His clothes were dripping rain onto the fancy bench seats and, for a moment, he was worried that the owner would be mad… until he too clambered in, looking even more drowned than Castiel felt.
"You good?" The boy asked simply, as if he hadn’t just rescued some random freshman from the pouring rain.
"Uh, yes. Yes, I'm… good. Thank you."
"Great. Name's Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester. You know my little brother?"
"Oh," Castiel blinked, "Sam, yes. You're his brother?"
Dean grinned, and the rain seemed to stop for a moment, "The one and only."
"He has mentioned you before, but I never knew you went to school here as well."
"Senior," Dean nodded, "Can't wait to get out."
"I fully concur."
"C'mon. What are you like, fourteen?"
"Fifteen."
"So, you're a freshman! Hey, you should be lovin' life, man."
Castiel frowned, "What is there to love about being a freshman, exactly?"
"Well, for one, the teachers take it easy on you."
"But the students do not."
"Huh," Dean gave him a hard look, "That where you got the, uh, shiner from?"
Castiel touched his left eye, then the right, and winced, "Ah, yes."
"Dickheads…"
"Excuse me?"
"Whoever did that," Dean said with a wave of his hand, "You need me to kick some ass? Rip some lungs out?"
"I'm afraid that's rather illegal."
Dean snorted, "Well, yeah. Alistair was it? Him 'n his cronies, I bet?"
"Yes… How did you –?"
"Douche used to wail on Sammy back in the day. Right before I broke his nose, that is."
Castiel couldn't help the startled little laugh that passed his lips, but the proud smile it got from Dean was more than worth it.
"So," Dean shrugged, "I'm guessin' you got a name?"
"Oh, yes. Castiel Novak."
"You're not related to Gabriel, are ya?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Oh, man," Dean wiped his hand across his forehead, "That's gotta be a handful."
"Indeed."
"Well, at least that means I know where to drive."
"You've been to my house?!"
Dean smirked at his stunned reaction, "Yep. Well, kinda. Me 'n Gabe worked on a project together back in sophomore year."
"And you went inside?"
"I never saw you, if that's what you're so worked up about," Dean chuckled, "Damn shame, too. I bet you were a frickin' adorable kid, right?"
Castiel swallowed thickly at the blatant flirtation, "That was only two years ago."
"Way before puberty kicked in though."
"I suppose," He narrowed his eyes, "Puberty is far from enjoyable."
"Well, hey! It's workin' for you."
Castiel melted at Dean's smug grin, green eyes raking shamelessly over his sopping figure. He was half tempted to cover up and flee the car before he did something stupid, like count every single freckle arching over Dean's nose (he'd already got to 23).
"I should really get home," He said reluctantly, "I have an English assignment, and Gabriel may be cooking."
"Say no more," Dean started the engine, "You still livin' in the same place?"
"Have been all my life."
"Alright then."
They turned out of the parking lot and onto the road, stalling for a moment as the rain washed over the windshield. Dean peered through the waves and glowered.
"Sonofabitch," He muttered, "Just washed her, as well…"
"Her?"
"Oh, right, yeah," Dean patted the dashboard lovingly as he said, "This is m'baby – 67' Chevy. 327 four barrel, 275 horses. A beauty, ain't she?"
Castiel frowned at the garble of numbers, "I, um… Yes. She's, uh… Very –"
"You don't know shit about cars, do ya?" Dean chuckled, "S'alright, Cas. As long as you can appreciate the sex appeal, we'll get on just fine."
Castiel disguised his smile with a shiver, "She's very nice, Dean."
"You cold?"
"Oh," The jacket was still draped over his shoulders, but his trenchcoat was heavy and wet, and pooling water onto the floor, "A little, I suppose."
"Here," Castiel froze when Dean's arm snaked around his body, half pulling him onto his lap as his hand started to rub up and down Castiel's trembling arms, "Better?"
"You're rather confident, aren't you?"
Dean shrugged, "I'm a good lookin' guy, you're a good lookin' guy. See my point?"
"Yes, but you're also a senior."
"So what?"
"So," Castiel said with a roll of his eyes; wasn't it obvious? "So, your flirtations are wasted on someone like me. Besides, I don't even know you."
"Well, go on then. Shoot. Whaddya wanna know?"
"It's not that simple."
"Sure it is," Dean said nonchalantly, "How 'bout 20 questions?"
"Dean…"
"Naw, c'mon! This'll be good."
Castiel pursed his lips, "Okay, fine. What do you want to be when you're older?"
"I am older."
"Dean, that's not an answer."
"Okay, okay…" Dean chuckled, "I dunno."
"You don't know?"
"Not really, no."
"Don't you think you should?"
"Honestly? Not so much. I mean, c'mon! I'm practically still a kid."
Castiel hummed, intrigued and baffled all at once, "My mother has had our futures all planned out since we were born."
"You're kiddin'?"
"I'm deadly serious. Anna will become a stay-at-home mum, providing she has children, and me and Gabriel will go into accounting."
"That what you want?"
Castiel snorted, "Absolutely not. But what can I do?"
"What do you want to do, Cas?"
"I," He paused. What did he want to do? That decision had never been an issue before, "I don't know…"
"Well, don't you think you should?" Dean smirked, rather proud of himself.
Castiel grumbled, "Next question... What are your fears?"
"I'm fearless, baby."
"Okay. Now tell me the truth."
Dean glanced down at him with a soft smile of amusement, and Castiel suddenly realized how close they both were. He could easily distinguish the different flecks of colours in his eyes – from olive green, to forest green; orange, to brown.
"Planes," Dean finally broke the silence and turned back to the road, "Frickin' things are unnatural, man."
Castiel huffed a laugh, "Fair enough."
"You?"
"Oh, well… I suppose I'm afraid of disappointing people. Letting them down."
Dean frowned, "Can't imagine you're much of a let-down, Cas. You're quite the catch, ya know?"
"Very funny."
"Hey, I'm serious! You're insanely hot, dude."
"I doubt my mother really cares whether I'm 'hot' or not."
"Oh, I see. Family troubles. You let your mum control you cos you don't wanna let her down, right?"
"I don't think it's quite like that," Castiel stared down at his hands, suddenly embarrassed that Dean thought of him in such a meek, submissive kind of way, "She's just… After my father left, she likes to have us close, I think. It makes her feel like a mother still."
Dean winced; Castiel could feel his grip around his arm slack for a second, "Geez, Cas. I – I didn't mean it like, man."
"It's okay, Dean. I know what people must think."
"Whaddya mean?"
Castiel smiled sadly, pointing to his eye, "You think I got this because I'm weak, right? Just a scared little freshman who can't look out for himself properly?"
"No, Cas. I don't – being bullied doesn't make you weak."
"But I'm not being bullied. Not really," He said, "I could beat Alistair and his friends any day if I wanted to. I just choose not to."
"What are you talkin' about?"
Castiel chewed his bottom lip for a moment; he rarely spoke of this to anyone, not even to the few friends he had. Was it wise to discuss his darkest secrets with the likes of Dean, a boy he'd only just met in the rain? Probably not. Still, he couldn't deny the strange kind of bond between them, as if they'd known each other all their lives.
"Let's just say, I can hold my own," He said carefully, "My father never wanted us to be weak when we grew up, so he sent us to classes and training camps and –"
"What, like warriors or something?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Damn," Dean laughed a little, but Castiel could see the shift in his eyes, "That's, uh… pretty damn impressive, I guess."
"It makes you uncomfortable, Dean. It's okay, you don't have to pretend."
Dean shook his head, "No, Cas. It's – I just can't believe it, ya know? A normal guy like you, swinging a decent punch. It's kinda funny."
"Well, I'm far from normal."
They fell into an awkward silence for a while. The constant beating of the rain hitting the roof was the only sound filling the air, as well as the splash of the tyres driving through puddle after puddle. Castiel found it easy to lose himself in the outsides noises, and forget the fact that he was sitting in a stranger's car, with said stranger's arm around his shoulders.
Once his house came into view, he discreetly slipped out of Dean's grip and scooted closer to the window. He'd never been so relieved to see his front door. He'd lasted all of five minutes before Dean had realized that, yes, he was a freak, just like Alistair had said he was. Now, all he wanted to do was go inside, spend time with his family, and pretend that none of this had ever happened. He could probably avoid Dean for the rest of the year; he only had a couple of classes with Sam, and neither of them took the bus… He'd be fine.
"Thank you for the ride," He said quietly as Dean parked up, "Oh. Your jacket –"
"Naw, you keep it."
"Pardon?"
"Keep the jacket," Dean said again, "How 'bout you dry it for me, okay?"
"Why –?"
"Cos," Dean grinned, "Then I have an excuse to talk to you tomorrow, ya see?"
Castiel narrowed his eyes, then sighed. This boy truly was relentless.
"Dean, you don't want to talk to me again."
"Says who?"
"Says me," He snapped, "At the risk of sounding like every other angst-filled teenager out there, I'm nothing special, alright?"
"Well, I beg to differ."
"But why?"
"Dunno," Dean shrugged, frowning as if he genuinely didn't understand the reason himself, "I just get this feeling… Like, we supposed to get to know each other. Become friends or something, ya know?"
"Or something?"
Dean smiled, "Okay, I'll admit. I like you, man."
"We've only just met, Dean."
"It only takes a second, Cas," He shot back, "Call me sad, or crazy, but I had a good time today."
"Then you are crazy…"
"So sue me. I like you, and I don't give a flyin' fuck, alright?"
"Dean –"
"You wanna go out sometime?"
Castiel balked, "We met ten minutes ago!"
"Yeah, so you keep reminding me. But that ain't an answer, Cas."
"I –"
"Look, nothin' fancy," Dean stressed, "We can just, I dunno… go for a burger or something."
"Dean, I'm not sure that's –"
"Okay, okay. How 'bout we take it slow then?"
"What do you mean?"
"Tomorrow, after school, you let me drive you home again," Dean said hopefully, "Sammy'll be here too, so no pressure."
Castiel mulled it over for a moment. It was preposterous, of course, 'getting to know someone' just for the sake of dating them later on. They'd only known each other for a handful of minutes, and they were worlds apart in terms of high school; it just wouldn't work!
And yet… Castiel felt somehow drawn to this boy. There was something about the warm twinkle of his eyes, and the soft curve of his smile. The way Dean's arm had touched him had felt like fire, and the smell of his jacket was like coming home. Yes, they'd only known each other for a handful of minutes, but it felt like a lifetime; it felt like forever. Castiel could easily see himself counting those freckles for years to come.
"Alistair wants to see me again tomorrow," He shrugged, "Do you mind waiting?"
Dean frowned, "You expect me to wait while some dicks beat you up? No fuckin' way, Cas. Nuh uh."
"I'm a freshman, Dean. The novelty will wear off soon enough."
"You don't wanna let them know you're some closet Jackie Chan, I get that," Dean shrugged, "So, I'll beat 'em for you. That way, you can keep pretending you're a wuss."
"Absolutely not."
"C'mon, Cas –"
"I'll deal with it just fine, thank you very much."
Dean groaned, "Alright. How 'bout I meet you by your locker after school, then we walk out together?"
"How do you know where my locker is?"
"Dude, you're hot," Dean reiterated, "You don't think I've noticed you around before?"
Castiel allowed himself a smile, "Fine. You can meet me by my locker."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. But no ripping out Alistair's lungs."
"Just the one?"
"No, Dean."
"Okay, whatever. I won't harm the smarmy bastard, ya happy?"
"Yes," He nodded, "Very. I've still 18 more questions to ask, remember?"
"Yeah, aright, smartass."
Castiel gripped Dean's jacket tightly and opened the car door, allowing the rain to bounce inside again.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."
"Yeah. Oh, wait," Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him forward to plant a gentle kiss against his eyelid, "Supposed to make it feel better, ya know?"
Castiel gulped, nodding dumbly, "Uh… Y-Yes. So I've heard…"
"You want me to run you to your door?"
"I think I'll survive."
"You sure?" Dean asked, kissing his cheekbone softly, "I don't mind."
Castiel shuddered at the feather light touch. It was embarrassing how much he wanted Dean to dip his head just a little lower, to capture his lips instead.
"Taking it slow," He reminded him weakly, "Dean, I have to go…"
"Yeah. Yeah, okay."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Dean lifted his hand to Castiel's forehead, brushing away the wet strands of hair plastered to his forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow, Cas."
And then he was running through the rain, Dean's jacket held high above his head. He didn't stop until the door had slammed behind him and he was standing in his house, water trickling down his face and chest heaving with long, heavy breaths.
"What just happened?" He muttered to himself.
It was probably just a dream. Alistair had probably hit him in the head, and the last twenty minutes had been nothing but a figment of his lonely imagination. Dean probably didn't even exist; there would be no handsome senior waiting by his locker tomorrow afternoon, and there would be no '67' Chevy' waiting to drive him home either. He was delusional, insane; a sad victim of solitude and a lack of friends.
Honk, honk!
Castiel jumped a little at the unexpected sound, followed by the quiet hum of music outside. It was Dean, he could see that though the peephole, and he was very much alive.
"Catch ya later, angel!" He called through the car window, and Castiel slumped to the ground, grinning hysterically to himself.
"Goodbye, Dean."