Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1:

Castiel Novak walked sullenly towards Social Studies, his books held tight to his chest; it wouldn’t do for them to be knocked out of his arms again. Even so, he had to sidestep to avoid Alastair. Castiel felt his face burn red as he continued walking; no doubt Alastair and his posse (the bully called them his friends) had turned to snigger at the dark-haired teen. Castiel ignored them, but hurried a little faster.

Sighing, Castiel could feel his shoulders relax upon entering room 203. The classrooms were all but official designated safe-havens. That is, when the teacher was occupying such a room. Luckily for the dark-haired male, Mr. Brunson was indeed behind the desk.

The teen allowed his shoulder bag to slip from his shoulder, hitting the ground with a gentle thud. His tan coat flowing around him as he sat, Castiel straightened his blue tie uncomfortably as he glanced around. He knew that he dressed oddly; the bullies at school made sure of that. However, the dark-haired teen just couldn’t bring himself to give it up. His trenchcoat, his worn blue tie- these were the things that made him, him. And sometimes, Castiel could really use the reminder.

The door made a creaking noise behind him, and Castiel had to consciously stop himself from glancing over. A person- Dean Winchester, if Castiel remembered correctly- sat in the seat beside Castiel, still joking with his friend. The teacher shushed them and class began.

Social Studies never really interested Castiel, but he forced himself to take adequate notes besides. How else was he to escape his home.

Not escape, he reminded himself, remembering what his father would do if he heard Castiel voice such an opinion. Graduate from. Leave. But not escape.

His hand continued to move across the paper of his composition book- almost as if it had a will of his own- until the bell rang. Castiel ignored the mild jibes directed at him from around the classroom and shoved his comp book unceremoniously into his bag, his face burning red again for some unexplainable reason. Ignoring the fact that his teacher was calling after him- probably to confirm his thesis for the semester- Castiel veered out of the classroom.

After some fumbling, his locker swung open and the dark-haired teen pushed his Trig textbook into his bag. As he tightened the strap on his shoulder bag, his locker slammed shut. Castiel felt his blood run cold. Ever so cautiously, he glanced up, freezing as he met the ice-cold glare of Alastair Warring.

“Well,” The bully drawled, a grin tugging at his lips. “Look what we have here.” Behind him, several other boys laughed, clearly finding some form of comic relief in their leader’s comment.

It was too much. Already, Castiel had been… forcibly escorted into a very cold puddle that very morning. And now… the scene was too familiar. Castiel yanked on his bag’s strap, tightening it, and fled. He felt himself flush as the jeering grew further behind him. Did he look funny while running? Castiel had to resist the urge to check the back of his trenchcoat. However, as he did not entirely curb the desire, and had still glanced over his shoulder, he ran smack into Dean Winchester.

The Winchester went down with a complaining: “Oof!”

Castiel was already murmuring apologies as he gathered the other boy’s textbooks from the ground, where they had spilt upon collision. As he shoved the books into Dean’s arms, he turned and stood, already about to make off once more. This time, a hand snagged at his sleeve and Castiel blinked down at it owlishly.

“You alright, man?” Dean asked, seeming to study Castiel’s face. For a moment, Castiel wanted to let everything spill out, but as his mouth opened to do so, he caught himself, closing it once more with a snap. Dean Winchester was a good person. He would never bully himself, but Castiel got the feeling that he would approve of the logistics of it. After all, it weeded out the weak from the strong. What better form of natural selection.

Castiel turned, aligning his body and bowing- a strange habit he had picked up god-knows-where. From underneath his messy bangs, he saw Dean smile a bemused smile. Suddenly embarrassed at his lack of manners, he extended a hand, pulling the other male up from the floor. With that, he fled from the scene once more, before Alastair and his posse could sneak up on him once more.

Deciding to walk home instead of riding the bus, Castiel abruptly veered towards the slightly more rural sidewalk. He moved without thinking, the route firmly ingrained in his mind after multiple years of walking it.

Not too long later, Castiel stood outside of his home. It appeared perfectly innocent; what, with the sun shining the lawn, which had been mowed fairly recently. Across the street, a neighbor had fallen asleep in swim trunks. Perhaps they had been sunbathing in what little sun was left during the fall. Castiel shivered and pulled his trenchcoat tighter around him. How the hell could someone fall asleep in such attire on an October afternoon? Sighing, the dark-haired teen walked up onto the stone porch, seating himself in the swing and pulling out his homework.

Absentmindedly, he calculated the cosine for the right triangle in question one. His mind was already wandering. So what song today? I suppose feeling small… no, I can’t think of one. Perhaps… that thing with Dean? Maybe… distrust? Maybe- Castiel’s pattern of thought ceased abruptly and his brow furrowed as he reached a rough spot in his problem. After a solid three minutes of failed variables, he checked the troubling question for later and moved on. Eventually, he fell back into his mental multitasking an moved on.

Two hours later, Castiel shoved his completed homework back into his backpack, a sigh of relief escaping him. He lifted the loose panel in the siding and stowed his bag inside. He had learned his lesson about bringing his bag inside when his dad had torn up his term paper for the second year.

The door creaked open.

“CASTIEL NOVAK!”

Castiel’s dad stood at the foot of the stairs. His face was a ruddy red. Even this early in the day, and- judging from how he swayed- he had already consumed half a pack of beers.

“My apologies, sir.” said Castiel, trying to stop himself from trembling as the man’s rancid breath brushed his face. “I was held up.”

The man, thank God, seemed to accept that, and frowned. “The money?”

Castiel reached into one of the pockets of his coat, withdrawing a roll of bills. English, the one subject where he truly excelled, was a class that he didn’t take; instead he tutored local homeschoolers during what was normally the class period. It only got him so much, and he was tempted to say so, but his father accepted the money with a sniff of disdain, clearly in too drunk a mood to administer any punishment. Castiel sagged with relief and carefully stepped past his dad, hurrying up the stairs.
The door to his room flew open with a bang, and Castiel followed it in, slamming it once behind him and twisting the padlock. If his father did one thing that Castiel appreciated, it was give him his privacy. Castiel spun the dial and collapsed onto his bed. Pulling the covers closer, the messy-haired teen snuggled into them with a faint smile. The tension in his shoulders finally relaxed, and relief suffused Castiel.

After a few minutes, Castiel groaned and sat back up. A smile made its way to his face as he rummaged withdrew his nightstand and winthdrew his camera. The camera was balanced on the top of his computer, and Castiel pushed guitar out from underneath the bed. A few experimental strums and he was ready.

The quiet chime of the recording button.

“I need another story

Something to get off my chest

My life gets kinda boring

Need something that I can confess

“'Til all my sleeves are stained red

From all the truth that I've said

Come by it honestly I swear

Thought you saw me wink, no

I've been on the brink, so

“Tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

“This time don't need another perfect lie

Don't care if critics ever jump in line

I'm gonna give all my secrets away

“My God, amazing how we got this far

It's like we're chasing all those stars

Who's driving shiny big black cars

And everyday I see the news

All the problems that we could solve

And when a situation rises

Just write it into an album

Send it straight to gold

But I don't really like my flow, no, so

“Tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

“This time, don't need another perfect lie

Don't care if critics ever jump in line

I'm gonna give all my secrets away

“Oh, got no reason, got no shame

Got no family I can blame

Just don't let me disappear

I'ma tell you everything

“So tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

“This time, don't need another perfect lie

Don't care if critics ever jump in line

I'm gonna give all my secrets away

“So tell me what you want to hear

Something that will light those ears

Sick of all the insincere

So I'm gonna give all my secrets away

“This time, don't need another perfect lie

Don't care if critics ever jump in line

I'm gonna give all my secrets away

All my secrets away, all my secrets away.”

The guitar continued for a few moments. Then Castiel moved his fingers from the frets and set down the instrument. With a sigh, he reached up and ended the video, putting the guitar back into the case and hooking the camera up to the computer. It was a strange form of therapy, Castiel supposed, but it was the one that worked for best for him, nonetheless. Absentmindedly, he opened his video editing software, applied a filter to the video, and cut out the last five seconds.

Castiel opened his YouTube account, uploading the video without really concentrating on what he was doing; it was habit by now. As the uploading bar filled, he cleaned up the rumpled clothing scattered across the wood floor and put the extra money- which his father didn’t know he had hidden- inside the small slot in the drywall of the closet. A quiet beep alerted him that the video was up and he crossed the room once more, making to close the web browser.

Then, he froze. Yesterday, his account boasted of only 15.000 subscribers. And it looked like the decimal point had moved approximately three spaces to the right. Yep. Fifteen. THOUSAND!!!!!!!!!

Castiel was vaguely aware of the fact that his jaw had dropped in shock.

Worry washed over him. They were seeing his videos. Hell, he’d barely bothered to comb his hair half the time!!! For a brief moment, he wanted to delete everything. The videos. His account. Even smash the guitar. But he allowed a breath to escape his mouth as he calmed. Speculation on why he had done such a thing could be even worse.

Carefully, as if the computer mouse would burn him, he clicked on the “community” page. The innocent gray dots buffered. Then the comments loaded. It felt as if a lead fishing weight dropped in Castiel’s stomach, and, his throat suddenly quite dry, he gulped in anticipation.

“Wow!” -jennydeanstranger

“This is g8. Love your stuff.” -stikeforfire

“The emotion in this is raw. Your covers are truly masterful!” -John Nemer

Castiel closed the tab, staring at his desktop background in stunned silence. That wasn’t supposed to have happened. Technically , he knew that his videos were public. But now… now he was staring the fact that others watched his videos in the face. With a broken groan, he collapsed onto his bed, grabbing his pillow and pushing it over his face.

It was funny, Castiel realized with a sour laugh. Most would have been elated if they got such a number of subscribers. But him? No. This was just another thing for the kids at school to tease him about.

Miserably, he flipped the light switch, slapping the button to turn on his alarm and rolling onto his side. Castiel couldn’t deal with it right now. And maybe somehow, when he woke, everything would be better.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:

It wasn’t. When he woke to the light filtering through his crappy window blinds, Castiel frowned at once. He groaned at the realization and pulled off his now dirty, white shirt and tie, throwing the shirt onto the floor with the rest of his clothes. Castiel retrieved another, nearly identical shirt, and donned it. His pants followed procedure and he re-knotted his tie. Without really thinking, he grabbed his camera and it’s cord, putting it into one of his many pockets.

Castiel snuck out of his room, not wanting to wake his father. He stopped in front of the hallway mirror, sighing and running a hand through his hair in attempt to tame it. He looked the same as any other day. Maybe they won’t notice. Or know. God, I hope they don’t know.

Castiel’s legs were sore from his walk home yesterday and so he stood awkwardly at the bus stop instead taking the sidewalk. A few minutes later, the yellow bus pulled up, its headlights shining morosely- or perhaps that was just Cas’s speculation- in the early morning lighting. Castiel got on without a word and made it to the back of the bus without speaking. The few people who were riding at the moment were too tired, or didn’t have the sufficient companions to be rowdy.

The obligatory quietude lasted for another ten minutes, until the dark-haired middle-schooler that Castiel didn’t know the name on boarded. Soon, he and his blonde friend were making enough noise to make up for the previous lack of it. A few more middle-schoolers boarded, and then a group of highschoolers. Respectfully, the middle-schoolers quieted.

The alpha-pack social dynamics , Castiel thought with a small smile. Society was at least as ruthless.

He felt himself tense automatically as the bus hissed to a halt at Alastair’s stop, but the other student boarded without a glance towards Castiel. A sigh escaped the dark-haired teen and he swung his backpack onto the seat next to him. For the next twenty minutes, the bus stopped and started, the noise level getting progressively louder each time. Castiel didn’t take any notice of anything besides his phone until he felt a finger tap his shoulder. He jerked slightly and his blue eyes shot up. They met the warm green gaze of Dean Winchester.

“Can I sit here?”

At first, Castiel didn’t think that he had heard correctly. The rest of the bus fell silent as they watched the exchange.

“Excuse me?”

“Is there an echo?” Dean looked around, mockingly. Not mockingly, Castiel realized. Jokingly.

“Er…” What was he supposed to say? ‘ Not unless you want to join the uncool crowd’ , or ‘Are you seriously giving Alastair more bullying material’ ?! “Sure.”

Dean flashed Castiel a grin. “Thanks!”

And with that, he swung into his seat. Then, it seemed to make sense. Dean had seen his YouTube account as was trying to use him.

“So…” Castiel tried to make the least sloppy introduction as possible. “What type of music do you like?”

Dean laughed. “Trust me, man. You shouldn’t get me started.”

Castiel’s brow drew together. Why not? Oh! He must have many preferences . When he didn’t speak, Dean continued.

“But, since you did… I suppose I’m obligated to tell you, eh?” He smiled at his own joke, before noticing that Castiel didn’t quite find it funny. The smile slid from his face and he began to look worried that he had been offensive. “No? Oh. Well, I like rock. Alternative, too.”

Castiel smiled slightly. “We have the same taste, then. I take it that you listen to it frequently.”

Dean turned his head to face Castiel, one eyebrow quirking. “And how would you know that?”

“You use your pencil’s to drum out the beat of multiple Panic! At the Disco songs per math class.” At Dean’s questioning gaze, he elaborated. “I notice things like that.”

Grinning, Dean said: “I could have just had it stuck in my head for days.”
Castiel smiled now. “But you didn’t.” Dean grasped at his side, faking pain.

“Ah! You have found me out! I listen to it in my car, normally. I’m fixing it up at home right now, and I can’t listen to it any other way.”

“Hmm?”

Dean chuckled. “My uncle is like, psycho. He refuses to pay any sort of electrical bill so I’m almost never on the web. Sammy, my younger brother,” Castiel had to hide a smile at the way that he could hear Dean’s admiration. “Well, he’s a different story. Has a personal wifi network and everything. I swear, that kid’s gonna be a Harvard grad.”

A near grin stretched across Castiel’s face. So he had, honestly and stupidly, sat besides Castiel for no other reason than to speak. “I”m assuming that he’s good in school then?”

Dean blew out a breath, his eyebrows moving up almost comically far. “Oh yeah. Somehow, he can help me with my trig homework and he isn’t a geek. I swear to god, it’s awesome.”

“The fact that your younger brother is a genius, or that you get homework help for free?”

“Both!” Dean declared, laughing. “Now are you going to tell me your name now?”

Castiel gave a small start, realizing his lack of rules. “Er… yeah. Sorry. I am Castiel Novak.” He automatically braced himself for the hurtful words. Insead-

“Castiel.” Dean cocked his head to the side, as if thinking deeply. “Yeah! I like that! Makes my name plain old boring, though.”

Still a little shocked that Dean hadn’t made fun of him, Castiel said: “Not in the least. It’s from Old French. The original word was ‘deien’, meaning Church, or Cathedral.”

Slowly, a grin spread across Dean’s face. “You and Sammy would get along just fine. How the hell do you know these things?!”

Castiel was about to defend himself when he realized that Dean’s tone wasn’t hurtful, rather, awed. “I remember. And notice.” Dean stared at him as if Castiel had just unveiled the secrets to the universe, his green gaze intense. Castiel smiled nervously and Dean looked down, chuckling.

“That is really, really, cool.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“No problemo. Hey, have you ever heard of this musical prodigy called Led Zeppelin?”

As was undoubted, the rest of their conversation was easy. In fact, by the time that they had reached school, Dean had withdrawn a promise from Castiel that he would sit with the other teen during lunch period. Dean was one of the first off of the bus, and he waved at Castiel from the sidewalk.

“See you, Cas!” He yelled. The nickname brought a smile unbidden to Castiel’s face. Bemusedly, he watched the Dean jog towards the school doors as he waited for the bus to empty. Then he felt a hand grab his shoulder, throwing him roughly against the vinyl bus seat.

“What’s the big idea, Novak?!” Alastair half-yelled, spittle flying into his victim’s face. Instinctively, Castiel flinched. “That Winchester kid?! He’s got potential! Don’t you go corrupting him!”

His breath shaky, Castiel closed his eyes tried to wait it out. Then he realized; the bus had cameras. He’d just let them this time, and he would use the footage as proof. The principal always refused to punish his son, Alastair, due to lack of evidence.

“You ignoring me now?!” Alastair shook his shoulder a little harder and Castiel’s eyes flew open, shooting to the bus cameras against his will. Alastair froze and followed his gaze.

Uh-oh.

“We’ll finish this at lunch break,” hissed the blond bully, pushing Castiel one more time for good measure. Sweeping his hair out of his eyes in contempt, Alastair crooked a finger, leading his posse away.

Allowing himself to wince, Castiel rubbed the shoulder Alastair had grabbed, before grabbing his bag’s handle and leaving his seat.

The hallways were fairly empty, with only the occasional gaggle of teens and passer bys. Castiel had barely managed to get to his english class before the bell rang and the teacher began roll. Castiel called his name without thinking- it was habit by now- and opened his english comp book. He poised his wrist and began to take notes, all the while thinking of Alastair’s promise.

English came and went without any real time seeming to pass. The 12 year old homeschooler who lived a block away finished his tutelage and left. Science didn’t seem time-consuming and before he knew it, he was out of class. Same with Biology. And PE. Even Art didn’t seem to take nearly as long as it normally did. And soon, the bell rang and excited murmurs rose. It was time for lunch. Castiel slid his easel into the slot in the storage closet and, his head hanging yet his eyes alert, he cautiously stepped out of the classroom, taking the longer, yet less populated route to his locker. He- thank god- made it there without incident and he shoved his bag inside of the cramped, sandwich-smelling place. Glancing around, he could see that Alastair hadn’t found him yet. His breathing began to slow. Once I make it to the cafeteria, I’ll be fine.

Still sticking ot the walls, Castiel tried to calm his frantic breathing, pulling his trench coat tighter around him. The way to the courtyard was fairly open and he darted to it, still sticking to the edges. He had made only four steps across it when he felt hands grasp his coat, pulling him towards the tree in the center.

“Release me!” Castiel gasped, struggling. Alastair laughed darkly, yanking on his coat collar as one of his friends pinned Castiel’s arms behind his back.

“Not a chance, bastard.”

Castiel tried to straighten his shoulders. “I think you’ll find that both my parents were married during my conception. Thus eliminating any chance of me being a-”

“Shut up!” yelled Alastair backhanding the other teen. Castiel was inclined to antagonize him further, to bring a teacher to the scene, yet, Alastair seemed to read his mind. “And don’t think any teacher’s gonna help, cause I got Josh to make a diversion in the science wing.”

Castiel froze, slowly looking up at Alastair. Some of the students had noticed what was happening now, but the threat of Alastair’s cronies kept them at bay. The bully grinned and then- WHAM!

Castiel’s head was knocked back  with the force of the blow and he could feel lis lip split. He sucked the blood into his mouth, ignoring the sick feeling that the iron taste gave him, and slowly turned his head back. The pain was already being channelled away; a practice Castiel ha began when his father had first became violent. Alastair didn’t seem too happy with Castiel’s non-reaction, and he shoved him against the tree. His mind whirling, Castiel’s back hit the tree and he felt a small gasp escape him from the impact.

“Leave me alone, Alastair,” said Castiel, wearily. Alastair sneered.

“No way in hell.”

He swung again but Castiel caught his fist, blocking Alastair’s blow. In his mind he was telling himself, I wasn’t supposed to do this, but he knew that it needed to be done. Years of his father trying-forcefully- to make him forget how to fight, to make him more defenseless, had taken his toll, and he was done being defenseless. The smile slid from Alastair’s face faster than the blood had dripped from Castiel’s split lip all those years ago.

Castiel had been taught not to defend himself. But he didn’t care. Alastair swung again, this time, with more force behind his fist. Castiel knocked it to the side with ease, still careful not to leave any physical marks; the last thing he needed was to be suspended by Alastair’s father. When Alastair tried a well-placed kick to the side, Castiel blocked it once more. Alastair’s face paled. At once, one of his friends came to help, already throwing slaps and punches. The blows coming faster now, it was all Castiel could do not to leave any marks.

Eventually, one of the boys’ blows clipped the ring on his knuckle, their own knuckle coming away bloody. Castiel paled. He had defended himself. He had really and truly defended himself. His father had let him take fighting classes because they used to live in the sketchy part of town; he wasn’t allowed to defend himself.

Lost to thought, Castiel barely managed to block Alastair’s next blow, and ended up grappling arms with him.

“HEY!”

Castiel glanced up in shock to see that Dean was striding towards them. Alastair and his friend cursed, pulling away from Castiel and fleeing; Castiel could see why. Dean, in his leather jacket, jeans, and swinging gold pendant, was a little menacing; especially with his eyes narrowed in the current fashion that they were. “Piss off!” Dean yelled. It seemed unnecessary, as the teens were already fleeing, but Castiel was grateful for it anyways. The crowd milled about.

“What’re you all looking at?” Dean called. At once, they began walking again, some of them, right into each other.

Castiel stared at Dean for a few moments before snapping to his wits. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Hey, Cas. So you a bit late for our lunch.”

A laugh escaped Castiel- Cas, now, but for Dean only. It was the first time he’d laughed in weeks; months if you count the first time the laugh was not produced by some YouTube video.

“A bit late, to be sure. Perhaps we should go now, so as to not miss any more of our meal?”

Dean grinned and Cas colored as he realized the manner in which he was spoken.

Reasons why Castiel Novak is Teased:

1. “Jesus, you bitch. Take it you got, like, no, sense of normal clothing?!”
2. “Always at the top of the class, ain’t you?! Abnormal smartass!”
3. “You always talk like that? You know we ain’t in 80’s England!?”  

“I like the way you talk.” Dean stated, grinning widely as if he was just stating a fact which wasn’t entirely out of the blue. Castiel blinked and felt more blood rush to his cheeks. What happened to my abnormal stoicness?!

“My thanks.” said Castiel. He felt his face practically burn as he realized he had spoken as thus once more. Dean smiled and motioned his towards the other side of the courtyart. Cas, smiling through his red flush, followed him.

The cafeteria was noisy, but no one took any real notice of the two teens; it seemed that the story hadn’t made its debut yet. They made their way through the lunch line without any altercations. As soon as they exited, Dean led Cas to one of the tables in the middle of the room, one not far from where a gaggle of girls sat. In all honesty, Castiel would never have chosen such a socially compromising table himself, but he was still on the high of finally defending himself.

“You good?”asked Dean as they sat.

“Hmm?” Cas glanced up, then allowed a small laugh. “Yes. Definitely.”

Dean shot him a crooked smile, then, “So what do you do for fun?”

Cas cocked his head, squinting slightly. “I suppose I don’t do much you would deem fun. I do play guitar, though.” Crap, why did I say that? I thought I was supposed to be distancing myself on this! As if on cue, one of the girls’ heads whipped over in their direction.

“I knew it!” she crowed. Cas froze. “You’re Castiel Novak!”

Several of the girls exchanged money and- they bet on my identity?!

“Er…” Cas had to suppress tears. Aaand here were the critics. “... yeah.”

“OMG!” The screech of the tall brunette caused Cas to cover his ears. “Can we get a selfie?!”

“What?” Both Dean and Cas were thoroughly confused. Apparently, the single inconclusive word was a word of affirmation for the girls, and they swarmed the two boys, pulling out their phones and taking photos.

“Would you play us a song?” A perky blonde asked, bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. “Livvy plays the guitar! See? It’s right here!”

The blonde held up a guitar the size of Cas’s own, and the brunette, ‘Livvy’, apparently, muttered: “ Learning to play guitar.”

“Erm… okay?” Cas accepted the guitar, allowing for a quick warm up before speaking again. “What would you like?”

It was the perky blonde who piped up. “You play OneRepublic, right?”

Dean shot Cas an admiring look, which Castiel tried to ignore. “I do.”

“Stop and Stare.” The little blonde ordered. Castiel almost smiled; this was a song that he played quite frequently. His fingers settled into position.

“This town is colder now

I think it's sick of us

It's time to make our move

I'm shakin' off the rust

I've got my heart set on anywhere but here

I'm staring down myself, counting up the years

Steady hands just take the wheel

Every glance is killing me

Time to make one last appeal for the life I lead.”

The cafeteria was silent now, but Castiel didn’t notice; he was becoming lost to his music.

“Stop and stare

I think I'm moving, but I go nowhere

Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared

But I've become what I can't be

Stop and stare

You start to wonder why you're here not there

And you'd give anything to get what's fair

But fair ain't what you really need

Oh, can you see what I see”

Cas’s fingers were moving up and down the guitar strings with regularity, his voice coming out clear

They're tryin' to come back, all my senses push

Untie the weight tags I never thought I could

Steady feet don't fail me now,

I'm gonna run till you can't walk

But something pulls my focus out, and I'm standing down."

There was silence for a few moments. Then-

“Stop and stare

I think I'm moving but I go nowhere

Yeah, I know that everyone get scared

But I've become what I can't be

Stop and stare

You start to wonder why you're here not there

And you'd give anything to get what's fair

But fair ain't what you really need

Oh, you don't need

Stop and stare

I think I'm moving but I go nowhere

Yeah, I know that everyone get scared

But I've become what I can't be

Oh, do you see what I see.”

Slowly, the last of the chords faded. Uproarious applause. What?!

Castiel glanced up and was shocked to see that it appeared as if the entire lunch room had listened to his song. Dean, his jaw seeming unhinged, was staring at Castiel. The singer was starting to feel nervous. What if I lose the only person who’s been more than civil to me over this?!

“When you say you play,” Dean finally burst out, still seeming caught in shock. “You play !” Slowly a grin stretched across his face. “That was amazing!”

Cas felt his face burn a bright red and he hopelessly tried to regain command over his blood. “Thank you, Dean.” Somehow, Dean wasn’t the only one to think so positively of his music; several of the jocks walked over. Castiel automatically tensed, but they just clapped him on the shoulder, offered him compliments and left. Cas wasn’t surprised that they didn’t stay; too much bad blood between them anyways. Dean had turned to the brunette who had originally recognized Cas.

“How’d you know he could play so good?” asked Dean. She grinned.

“He has a YouTube channel. Some celbrity found it, freaked, and started raining compliments via twitter. It sorta led to people discovering him. As of,” she pulled her phone up to refer. “Now, he has 16,873 YouTube followers.”

Cas felt his jaw drop despite himself. A low wolf-whistle was alloted to shock from Dean. “Two days ago I had less than twenty!” he murmured to himself.

“Hey, Cas,” said Dean, suddenly. “I’ve seen you around with a laptop; is it on you?”

Confused, Cas nodded. Dean grinned. “You might wanna check it. More specifically, your email.”

Still squinting slightly in confusion, Cas withdrew the small surface from the inside pocket of his trench coat. Somehow, it had escaped unscathed after his altercation with Alastair. The screen lit up upon being opened and Cas logged on. He noticed belatedly and thankfully that Dean had covered his hands with his own, likely to keep others from seeing his password; half the cafeteria was still glancing at him and the girls were pretty much stalking the two.

The browser was blank and Cas clicked on his bookmarks, opening YouTube and his email in separate tabs. Upon opening his email, Castiel couldn’t help the gasp which escaped him. Besides him, another low, disbelieving whistle came from Dean. YouTube had contacted him. He was going to get paid .

“What the hell?” Cas murmured. The dark-haired teen could practically feel Dean grin from beside him. “How am I supposed to handle this?!”

“Get a secretary.”

“Dean, I am being serious.”

“Right. Erm… my brother was friends was a YouTuber one time, I know the schematics of it. If you want, I could help you.” Dean proposed. Then, he hurried on. “I swear, I wouldn’t be taking advantage of you! You literally don’t even have to mention me once! I would-”

“That sounds good, Dean. However, you will definitely be mentioned.”

“Naw…” Dean grinned, waving his hand to the side. He sobered and leaned in. “What you should do, is create a weekly vlog.”

Before Dean had fully finished his sentence, Castiel was shaking his head. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. If they like my music, I will give them that. However, I will not force my life upon them.”

“Trust me on this one, Cas,” said Dean. “I think that they’d really like it.”

Castiel shot Dean a doubtful expression; the earnesty on the other teen’s face was clearly sincere. Cas conceded. “If you really believe it to be so.”

“Definitely.” Dean grinned.

Just then the bell rang, and they rose from the seats. “Come over to my house after school,” said Dean. He motioned to their barely touched lunch trays. “I think I owe you a meal.”

Even as Cas, opened his mouth to disagree- insist that such a thing was unnecessary- he nodded. Dean smiled and left, disappearing into the exciting rush of students.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3:

Much to Castiel’s surprise, he found that he was not buffeted about nearly as much as normal; only enough to qualify for accidental brushing. Perhaps something good was coming of this guitar thing after all.

The rest of his classes were relatively simple, and Cas was actually able to smile at the joke his Social Studies teacher made. The bell rang for what was to be the last time that day and Castiel put his worksheet into his shoulder bag, swinging it over his shoulder and exiting the class. While he had been able to focus on the course subject, he was still wondering what the deal was with Dean. Would the other teen actually wait for him? Did he actually wish for a friendship with the strange teen?

Stopping outside of the building doors, Castiel felt a smile twitch at his lips. Sure enough, Dean was standing just outside of the doors, glancing around. Cas watched as a small, brown-haired kid approached Dean. The mechanic-in-training grinned widely and pulled him into a hug, despite the kid’s apparent grumbling. Cas pulled his tan coat a little tighter around himself and neared the duo. Dean caught sight of him first.

“Hey, Cas!”

“Hello, Dean.” greeted Castiel. Before he could get around to asking to asking about the kid, Dean introduced him.

“Cas, may I present you, genius extraordinaire- or at least for his age- and my little brother, Sammy-”

“It’s Sam!” the kid cut in. Cas smiled slightly and inclined his head.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sam. Your older brother has told me much about you.”

“My brother has told me of you as well, Castiel.”

Cas smiled and they shook hands.

“So if we’re done with the overly formalities,” Dean interrupted. “Are we going to get on the bus now?”

Sam nodded and darted aboard. Cas and Dean both boarding the bus with a more sedated pace and claimed a seat near the back; Castiel did his best to not notice the ugly glare which Alastair shot at him.

“So, are you sure that your dad will be agreeable with you having a friend over?” asked Castiel.

“Not in the least,” said Dean smugly. “But then again, he does live somewhere in Florida…”

Castiel’s mouth fell open into a perfect ‘O’ of astonishment. “My apologies, Dean.”

“Before you ask, no. I do not live with my mother either. She died in a house fire when we were little. My dad turned to alcohol, and I ended up raising Sammy. Dad was rarely home, but when he was, we found that that he was getting caught up in some sort of local drug deal. I kinda just lost it and dragged Sammy over four states to our Uncle Bobby.”

Castiel smiled. “You are a good older brother.” Dean waved his hand dismissively, and is he blushing?!

“Sometimes, I suppose.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and went back to the story. “Our Uncle- well, I suppose he’s not really our uncle. He’s not related by blood, you see, just a family friend. Back to the topic; our uncle runs Singer Salvages, and I’ve helped him for about three years now. He reckons that I could get a mechanic’s degree, if I wanted one, but I don’t see any need for one. Anyways, I normally drive my car to school. She’s a 67’ Impala; a real beauty.”

Cas couldn’t help but to smile at the fondness with which Dean referred to his car.

“Why haven’t you been driving to school in it recently?”
Dean took a deep breath of air, puffing up his cheeks, before blowing it out. “Some bastard went and dented her. I have to fix her up now.”

“That’s inconvenient.”

“Yeah. So, about your channel. Do you have an introduction video?”

Cas blinked dumbly.

“No? So I guess I’m going to help you start from practically scratch. We should probably write some sort of outline for the script. We’ll mostly just wing it.”

Not halfway through the script, Cas noticed that Dean wasn’t including himself. Upon pointing it out, Dean waved it aside, claiming at the his subscribers wanted to see Castiel, not Dean. And so, Cas used his best bargaining tool; staring until the recipient of the stare began to feel awkward.

“... you’re not going to stop staring, are you.”

“Seriously…”

“Fine!” Dean conceded, his mouth twitching into a strange mix of a smile and a frown. “I’ll include myself.”

Castiel adopted a rather smug expression. “Good.”

Dean rolled his eyes and they went back over the beginning script. The bus driver stopped at what Cas knew to be Dean’s stop and they stood, Cas swinging his bag over his shoulder. They sidled into the aisle and tromped down the steps. Not a moments after Dean had exited, the bus drove off, black exhaust marking its exit.

Dean and Sam tromped up the steps happily; several noises came from the garage, where their uncle was no doubt fixing up some vehicle or another. Castiel followed them into the house, a little bit hesitantly. The home was nice, if a little cramped, and was obviously well-lived in. Dean motioned Castiel up the stairs and to the left, where a poster-plastered bedroom awaited them. Without a word, castiel handed his small surface to Dean, who crossed the room and plugged it in.

“Crap!” Dean said, slapping a hand over his forehead as he froze in his movements.

“What is it?”
“We don’t have a camera!”

Castiel reached, down, suddenly remembering, and patted his pocket. Sure enough, his camera still rested within. He pulled it out, slightly disbelieving at his good fortune. Dean laughed in relief and accepted it, setting it up on top of his CD shelf.

“Are we ready?”

Cas nodded.

“Lights… Camera…. Action!” The small chime signified the starting of the video.

One hour later, Cas pulled off his coat, folding it and placing it neatly on Dean’s bed; it had been more tiring that he had thought, but now Dean had all the necessary footage and had finished editing it.

“Do you want to see it?” asked Dean, startling Cas from his thoughts.

“Er…” Quite honestly, Castiel was a little nervous. “Okay.”

Dean smiled and sat beside him on the bed. He swiped to the left until he could press the seemingly-innocent white triangle. The screen cleared to show the two teens standing next to each other.

“This is awkward.” stated Castiel, sounding entirely serious, as per his usual fashion. The screen turned black, and white letters reading ‘Welcome to my Channel’ flashed across the background.

“My name is Castiel Novak. If you couldn’t tell from the videos coinciding on this channel I play guitar.”

Dean coughed out a quiet: “Modesty” and Castiel glared at him before turning back to the camera.

“I’ve played for a while, however I do not see why this could concern any of you-” Dean was slowly allowing his face to hit his palm, despite his grin. “- as knowing such information is in no way consequential to the quality of my music.

“I don’t entirely understand what the appeal of a vlog is, but Dean has endeavored to explain it, nonetheless. Therefore, if one of you- wait, I have subscribers?” Castiel turned to Dean again, looking incredulous.

In the present, Castiel could remember that take; it was when the sheer amount of his subscribers had hit him.

The screen showed a fake “technical difficulties” screen and a long beep sounded before it re-opened to the same scene. This time, Dean was absent from the scene. “Therefore, if any of you would like me to make weekly vlogs, or perhaps voice some other request if this is a video viewed after I have already begun the production of such videos, just write it in the comments.

“I play mostly alternative and soft rock, although with Dean here, that might change.”

As if on cue (which it was) Dean popped up from directly in front of the camera, exclaiming excitedly, “Metallica!”

In the present, Castiel started in surprise; Dean had actually managed to get the take when he had smiled in amusement!

“If you have a song you would like me to consider, type it into the comments and I’ll consider it. Just please, no- what was the term?”
The Castiel in the video turned to Dean, confused, and the Castiel in the present remembered that this particular take had actually been a blooper; they had kept the camera rolling though, and it appeared that Dean had used the footage.

As if in exasperation, the Dean in the video sighed. “Really, Cas! I’m the one who has barely any web knowledge!”
Castiel continued to stare at Dean in his typical: “I’m going to stare at you until I get what I want” fashion. Dean sighed again.

“ Hate, Castiel. Hate.”

“Hate,” said Cas, turning back to the camera as if there had been no interruption. “This is a channel where I play music, not a channel which you can vent your anger into. Although criticism is welcome. Thusly, if you have something rude to say, don’t say it. Just listen to me play, say, Green Day-”

“-You play Green Day?” the on-screen Dean demanded turning to Castiel with his eyes wide in apparent incredulous happiness; it was another blooper scene made useful.

The “technical difficulties” screen flashed again, the beeping accompanying it. In the background, one could hear Castiel say, “Yes, Dean. I play Green Day.”

The screen re-opened to the two of them once more, and Castiel spoke. “I do believe that this should conclude your acquisition of this channel. Good day.”

The screen went black, the re-opened to a snipped of a conversation that they had accidentally filmed. On-screen Cas was tapping his pencil against notebook paper as the two of them sat on the bed, brainstorming.

“‘Fretting Guitarist’?” Dean finally proposed. On-screen Cas nearly dropped his pencil, then pointed it at Dean with severe conviction.

“No way I’m putting a P.O. box under that- that pun !” The final word was spat out, with distaste and the screen went black once more. The video had ended.

“That was…” Cas struggled to come up with the right words. The video should have seemed cheesy- it really should have. Yet, Dean had managed to make it… somehow…. “Good!”

Dean laughed at Castiel’s disbelief and pressed the save button, handing the surface back to Castiel. Castiel opened YouTube and uploaded it to his channel without hesitation. Together, they watched the ‘uploading’ bar slowly fill.

“Would you mind if I saw some of your other videos?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“Not in the least! Perhaps we should finish my page, though?”

“Definitely!”

As the video finished uploading, Castiel dragged it to the ‘featured’ spot, and pressed ‘save changes’. Then he opened up his playlists. Like always, he had none. Not even any saved videos. The guitar player made a playlist labelled ‘Song Covers’, and saved all of his videos to it. Satisfied, the two sat back, smiling pleasantly at the finished account. Cas reached out and pressed the ‘F5’ button.

“Friggin’ Hell!” Dean exclaimed besides him. Yes, Castiel could now brag of 17k subscribers. “Okay, video time!” Dean announced. Castiel smiled at the overenthusiastic teen and opened the covers playlist, subconsciously selecting a video where he had combed his hair. A moment later, he was cursing himself, as the tears came to his eyes.

“Hope when you take that jump, you don't fear the fall

Hope when the water rises, you built a wall

Hope when the crowd screams out, they're screaming your name

Hope if everybody runs, you choose to stay.”

Castiel’s eyes began to sting slightly as the tears welled.

“Hope that you fall in love, and it hurts so bad

The only way you can know is give it all you have

And I hope that you don't suffer but take the pain

Hope when the moment comes, you'll say.”

A tear fell, slowly rolling down Cas’s cheek.

“I, I did it all

I, I did it all

I owned every second that this world could give

I saw so many places, the things that I did

With every broken bone, I swear I lived.”

Another tear, this one followed by another. And another. One dropped onto Cas’s hand.

“Hope that you spend your days, but they all add up

And when that sun goes down, hope you raise your cup

Oh, I wish that I could witness all your joy and all your pain

But until my moment comes, I'll say

I, I did it all

I, I did it all

I owned every second that this world could give

I saw so many places, the things that I did

With every broken bone, I swear I lived

“Oh, oh, oh, oh

“With every broken bone, I swear I lived

With every broken bone, I swear I…”

The tears were falling down Cas’s face steadily now, but the teen couldn’t bring himself to stop, despite the fact that Dean was sitting right next to him.

“I, I did it all

I, I did it all

I owned every second that this world could give

I saw so many places, the things that I did

With every broken bone, I swear I lived

“Oh, oh, oh, oh

I swear I lived, ohhh

I swear I lived, ohhh”

The screen slowly faded to black and Castiel let out a muffled sob. Dean turned at the sound, his eyes widening at the sight of Cas’s tears.

“Shit, Cas, what happened?!” asked Dean frantically, pulling Castiel’s hands away from his face when he tried to cover up the tears. “Okay, shhh…. I’m here alright?” Dean pulled Castiel into a gentle hug, cradling him softly.”You don’t need to tell me anything, just think. I’ll be here.”

Despite any embarrassment, Cas turned into Dean’s embrace, muffling his sobs in the other’s band tee. Slowly, he calmed, filled now by mortification and sadness. How could he have not checked the title?!

“Are you feeling a little better, Cas?” Dean asked from above. Hesitantly, Cas gave a careful nod.

“Alright, good.” Dean pulled back slightly, still keeping his hands on Castiel’s shoulders. Unconsciously, Castiel gently grabbed Dean’s right hand with his own, trying to ground himself. “You don’t need to tell me what that was about. But seriously, if you think it would help you, I would listen. You could tell me and I would keep what you told me. This is your thing, but I wanna help.” Dean fumbled through his explanation rather messily, but Cas managed to smile through his tears at the other teen.

“I have a brother. His name’s Gabriel.” Dean fell silent.

“You say that you used ot have a bad home-situation; I know the feeling twice over. My brother wanted me to move out with him, when he went to college, you see. I wanted to go with him. My father wouldn’t let me, as I was the only source of income. Gabe’s a little brattish sometimes, but he’s a good older brother. He was the one who taught me to play guitar when I was seven, you know. He started by teaching me a tune. He never told me the lyrics, and I never looked up the notes. The day that he left, he sung me the whole song. The song I just showed you; that was it. He wanted me to get out, Dean.” Cas said, looking up at Dean tearily. “And he didn’t get what he wanted. The one thing that he always tried to work for; he didn’t get it.” His head bowed slightly. “I haven’t seen him for a year, now. I’m sorry that it’s a little childish, but he’s the only person who’s really family to me; my parents got divorced when I was a toddler.”

‘Cas,” Dean gently grasped Castiel’s shoulders, making him look up. “That isn’t childish in the least. Hell, if Gabriel is anything like me, I think that he misses you badly. Me and Sammy,” Dean forced himself to take a deep breath. “If we had needed to split up when we lived with our Dad- I get it, Cas. I get it.”

Dean gently drew Castiel into another hug, and the blue-eyed teen buried his face in Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize that was the video.” Castiel’s voice came out muffled.

“It’s okay, Castiel. Falsely therapeutic though it may sound, I’m here for you.”

Castiel smiled and withdrew. “I suppose that we should go find something to do and pretend that nothing involving emotions ever happened?”

Dean laughed a little, caught off guard. “You don’t need to hide from me, Cas.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“So… is cooking a suitable emotional vent?”

Cas’s face lit up. “Do you have a sufficient kitchen?”

“Err… maybe?” said Dean. And with that slight-affirmation, Castiel was bounding down the stairs.

Dean followed behind, chuckling, and grinned at the other teen. Cas stood in the threshold of the kitchen, surveying the room critically.

“Do you own any yeast?”

Confused, Dean said: “What?”

“Yeast, preferably dry-active.”

“Well, there might be some in the freezer? I think Sammy has some left over from some experiment.”

Not questioning how the yeast could have been used in an experiment, Castiel flew over to the freezer, wrenching open the door and holding up the ziploc full of dry yeast with a crow of triumph. Dean laughed at Cas’s enthusiasm. It seemed to be relieving on both sides, Castiel noticed as he pulled out a mixing bowl, for Cas just to forget his issues for a few minutes.

All proprietary forgotten, Castiel ordered Dean about the kitchen, requesting flour from here, water from here, and- “You know, Dean. A wooden spoon would be very useful about now.”

Not ten minutes later, Castiel rolled the dough into little balls, placing them on a cookie sheet and sliding the sheet into the oven.

“That was fun.” observed Cas. Dean laughed.

“Yeah! Do you not cook, like ever?”

Castiel wiped his hands on a dishtowel. “No, not really. I mostly just confine myself to my room.” Dean frowned.

“That can’t be healthy.”

Hollowly, Castiel laughed. “It would be worse to go downstairs.” He realized what he had said much too late, and Dean froze beside him.

“Cas… is your dad…?”

Lips trembling despite himself, Castiel determinedly walked back towards the stairs. A breath escaped Dean, seeming abnormally loud.

“ Shit , Cas.”

Castiel began to move more quickly. He was doing this wrong. He had met Dean today , and there was no way that the other teen wanted to be privy to his issues. He couldn’t afford this; not now especially, when the speculation on his life was greater than ever and multi-state. He heard Dean begin to chase him, and his own blood seem to run cold. What if the other teen blackmailed him?!

“Cas!” said Dean, grabbing Castiel’s shoulder as gently as he could. Despite himself, Castiel flinched away. Hurt flickered across Dean’s face.

“Hey, Castiel.” said Dean, softly. “I’m not going to do anything, I swear. But if you think that I can help- at all- then don’t hesitate to come to me. Hell, Cas, I’m sure that we can get Bobby to agree to something.”

Castiel was still flinching away, feeling as if something was deeply wrong; no one helped him. Ever. And why in God’s name should Dean Winchester help him now. The green-eyed teen stepped closer, cautiously embracing Castiel. He didn’t move to rock him, just to stay there and offer him comfort. A dry sob escaped Cas, and he turned in Dean’s embrace, putting his arms around Dean’s neck and burying his face in Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel muttered over and over, not being able to bring himself to pull away from the comfort, just to hold on tighter. “Oh God, Dean. I’m so sorry.”

“Cas,” Dean breathed in the other teen’s ear. “It’s okay. And I don’t care what you think, I’m here for you. I’m sorry if you don’t trust me, but I’m here for you. You aren’t weak. You aren’t broken. Cas, you are Castiel, and damn it if I’m gonna let you go.”

Gently, he withdrew from Castiel, keeping one arm at his waist, as if sensing Cas’s need for physical comfort. Lip still trembling, Cas continued his tirade of apologies as Dean led them back down the stairs.

“God, Dean. I am sorry. Sincerely. You barely know me, and you have to comfort me and, God , you must think that I’m disgusting and-”

Upon making it down the stairs, Dean led Castiel into what was clearly the living room, pulling the other teen to collapse onto the couch with him. Castiel did so with a quiet yelp, nearly falling onto Dean’s lap. Castiel continued looking at his knees, not being able to bring his gaze up any further. Two, solid hands on his shoulders startled him into looking up, causing to meet Dean’s gaze directly. He tried to ignore the welling of shame deep within him, knowing full well that the tear-tracks were visible on his cheeks.

“Castiel.” said Dean, his voice soft. “I want you to listen to me, and I don’t want you to doubt me. You are a great person. I’ve wanted to talk to you earlier, kept at bay only by the thought that you didn’t want to talk to me. When I say you sitting alone on the bus, I couldn’t wait any longer. I was weak, but I didn’t care. Because, Castiel; you are an amazing person. I didn’t realize how bad you had it at school until I wondered why you were late to lunch. I thought that you might have been held up at class- you’re really smart that way. But no. Some idiot. Someone who couldn’t see and treasure what was right in front of you, was beating you up. Or at least trying to.

“You were holding your own with ease, Cas. But you didn’t hurt them. Even with the adrenaline humming in your veins, you were conscious of your actions, always aware. I came closer, intending to help, and I saw fear in your eyes. You were holding your own, and you knew it. But something was wrong. And Cas, you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve your life. I nearly hurt them myself, but the awareness you inspired stopped me; they could have lied to explain any bruise, and knowing how they seemed to not like you you; fear your perfection, really; I stopped short from attacking and let them run.

“Then came lunch. You were asked to sing and you did. And Castiel, you were caught up in some kind of beauty. You sung, and everyone stopped to listen. They really couldn’t do anything but ‘Stop and Stare’. And then you finished, and life resumed. You seemed so confused as to why everyone loved you- Cas, they couldn’t do anything else! I invited you to come here, because I was selfish and wanted to hoard you from the world a little longer.

“Jesus. And then we filmed and I showed you. You seemed so surprised that anyone could like you, and the confused smile kept showing. Hell, I probably shot twice as many takes as necessary, just to see you smile! And then you showed me that song, and you cried. And fuck, that messed with me. How could anyone as perfect with you ever have to deal with such hell?! You told me, and I felt warm, because Castiel, you trusted me. I mentioned cooking, and you lit up, racing down to the kitchen. Castiel, you were sure of yourself, and that was beauty. And then I find out that… what you’ve had to deal with. Castiel, I mighta shown restraint, but I was a moment away from storming off to your house and dealing with the problem myself.

“I’m probably a creep, ‘cause I’ve never told you this. But when we were real little, we went to the same preschool. You are the only person there that I remember. You were this little, dark-haired kid, barely older than a toddler. And you would always wear the same thing; a giant, tan coat, and black pants. You had this little bumblebee backpack, and it was great. You loved it. Bumblebees in general, really. You were this sweet, little kid, always wanting to help others, and I was always so mad because the others didn’t realize it.” Dean chuckled, softly. “The teacher thought that I had anger issues, and I was always in the corner for stealing the toys of kids who were mean to you. Cas, buddy, I was half-convinced you were an angel. Hell, you know what? I think I still am.”

Castiel smiled slightly, despite his shock and tears, and said: “Dan.”

Dean blinked, clearly confused. “What?”

“I remember you. I thought you were some imaginary friend that I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t say ‘Dean’. Only ‘Dan’.”

A smile played across Dean’s lips and he pulled Castiel into a crushing hug. Cas didn’t make any move to escape, instead holding Dean even tighter. Then he withdrew and, with all seriosity, stated: “We have known each other for over a decade. Why is that funny?”

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, Dean laughed. “I have no idea, Cas.”

They grinned at each other in companionable silence until a timer rang. Castiel was in the kitchen before Dean realized that he had left the couch.The scent normally unique to a bakery slowly filled the house. "Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"How'd the bread turn out?"

Castiel walked into the dining room, wearing bright red oven mitts and a large grin. In each hand, he held a pan of bread rolls. "Excellent!"

Dean laughed at Cas's enthusiasm and directed him to the dining room, where Cas put the pans down on hot pads. Dean watched mournfully as Castiel covered the pan's' contents with tinfoil.

"So I don't suppose I'll be able to sneak one now?"

"These are for dinner." Cas maintained firmly. "We must find something else to occupy ourselves with in the meanwhile." Childishly, Dean stuck his tongue out. Castiel rolled his eyes. "Perhaps you could show me the Impala you spoke of so highly?"

Dean's face lit up. "Great idea, my dear genius!" Castiel smiled. "C'mon. It's this way." With that, Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and led him out the back door. Castiel gasped. The car yard was huge, and expanded into the previously-empty lot behind the house. It was fairly cramped, but retained a grid-like structure nonetheless, the late afternoon sun shining the newly-restored cars. A grumbling drew Castiel's attention to a gray Honda with a dented hood. A man in Carhart vest, worn jeans, and a battered baseball cap was examining the dented part. Muttering something about cheap european hoods, he scratched at his beard. Dean cleared his throat.

"Nice of you to show up, Dean." said the currently unnamed man. "I thought the bus blew up, or something.'

"Yeah, well, that didn't happen. Sorry to crush your hopes, Bobby." joked Dean. Bobby smirked slightly.

"Damn."

The mechanic wiped some of the grease from his hands and stood. Noticing Castiel, Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Who's this?"

"This is Castiel Novak; he's a friend of mine."

Bobby frowned. "Not related to Jim Novak?" Castiel had to hide a frown, and he nodded miserably. Bobby winced, as if in sympathy. "Ouch. Sorry, boy."

Castiel slowly raised his gaze from his shoes, smiling almost against his will. Beside him, he could sense Dean grinning.

"I'm gonna go with my own saying here," said Bobby, straightening up and giving the Honda one last once-over. "Like father, probably not like son."

Cas smiled. "Blood of the convent be thicker than the water of the womb."

Bobby laughed. "Dean, you got a smart one your hands!"

The two teens grinned and bade Bobby farewell, Dean taking Castiel's hand again as he led the shorter teen to the far corner of the lot.

"This," announced Dean with a flourishing gesture. "Is my car!"

Castiel squinted in concentration as he stepped closer to the black car, allowing his eyes to give the vehicle an appreciative sweep. Sure enough, the back fender was dented; it looked as if Dean had been rear-ended. The dent was almost entirely hammered out, though, and other than that, it was an excellent car; Clearly well maintained.

"It's pretty." said Castiel. Beside him, Dean chuckled.

"I like to think so. I probably would have finished it today but-"

Castiel promptly seated himself on a nearby box. "Begin."

"What?"

Cas raised a single eyebrow. "You love this car, and I could tell you were a little uncomfortable looking at the bus's wheels. If you can have this finished by tomorrow, then you'd better start now."

Dean smiled, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment. "Are you sure? It'd be a little boring."

Castiel fixed Dean with one of his stares, as if willing Dean to reflect on his own generosity. Dean picked up a hammer and promptly began working out the rest of the dent; Cas hid a private smile.

Watching Dean wasn't nearly as boring as the green-eyed teen had warned; creepy though Castiel realized it may be, it was rather entertaining to watch the mechanic at his work. Dean's brow furrowed in concentration, he worked at the metal with care, not wanting to damage it. By the time that the fender was finished, polished like the rest of the car and all, it was nearly dark, and Castiel realized that it must have been at least an hour. He smiled and helped Dean up, ignoring the grease of the green-eyed teen's forearms.

"You are quite good." Castiel observed. Dean grinned and either the leather-wearing teen was suddenly very hot, or he was blushing.

"Thanks, Cas. Dinner?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes! That would be wonderful!"

Castiel was escorted inside and he found that Sam had taken it upon himself to make spaghetti. The sophomore maintained that it was no big deal, but Castiel thanked him anyways. Just as the three teens had sat at the table, Bobby entered the room.

"Looks like a family dinner today, boys!" announced the mechanic, grinning as he plucked a plate off the cabinet and loaded it high with noodles.

"Yep." Dean said as he flipped the previously tinfoil-covered bread rolls onto a serving platter. Bobby noticed them at once and gravitated towards the bread.

"Dear god!" Bobby exclaimed, biting into one and stifling a moan. Castiel felt himself blush at the compliment. "Who made these?!"

Dean grinned unabashedly and pointed at Cas. Bobby wolfed down the rest of the bread roll, then turned to Castiel. "Castiel? You are welcome here anytime!"

Sam laughed, helping himself to a few rolls as Dean piled both his and Castiel's plates high with noodles. Glancing around the table, Castiel could see that while both Dean and Bobby ate their food with nothing more than a fork and a couple fingers, Sam ate his with all etiquette possible. Dean noticed and laughed. "Just eat, Cas. Sammy here is our resident gentleman."

Sam shot Dean a filthy glare. Castiel smiled slightly and ate his spaghetti.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4:

Castiel woke with a groan the next morning. Dean had driven the other teen home, but not to a warm welcome. Much to Castiel's dismay, his father had remained awake. And now, Castiel was made to move through his morning routine, hampered by whimpers and winces of pain. He included his guitar and video camera, along with his backpack and surface, knowing that he would probably end up going to Dean's again.

His day was made better by the appearance of a familiar Impala at his bus stop, arriving several minutes before the school bus itself. Aerosmith blaring from the radio, Dean called: "Hey, Cas!"

Castiel gaped in shock. "Erm, hello, Dean."

"You going to get in?"

Castiel ignored the leaping of his heart at the thought of not facing Alastair. "Would you mind explaining further?"

"I am inviting you into my car with the intent of driving to you to school with me. I am also inviting you to come home with me once more, not long after lunch, due to the fact that today is a half-day. It is a half-day due to the fact that this is the last day before winter break. And I could keep stating random facts, but I'm entirely sure that you already know them all."

"Oh! Thank you, Dean." Castiel opened the door to the passenger seat, allowing the green-eyed teen to put his backpack and guitar in the back seats.

"No problemo. How're you doing on this fine day?"

Castiel had to suppress a laugh at Dean's full-on grin and chipper mood. "Quite well, so far. And you?"

Dean turned up the volume of 'Dream On' and laughed. " Excellent , thank you for asking!"

Castiel's worry melted away with Dean's happy chatter, and Dean announced proudly that his uncle intended on getting him a smart-phone. "I won't be entirely cut off from civilization!" Dean said with an unabashed grin.

"That is good." said Castiel, truly happy for the first time that day. Their conversation turned to music, then to guitar, then to brothers as they drove. Before Castiel knew it, they had arrived at school. Dean put the car into park.

"We still have a few minutes before class starts, if you want to check your account real quick," informed Dean. Castiel smiled gratefully and withdrew his surface. A few taps of the mousepad and they were at his homepage. Dean suggested that he check the comments on their introduction video and Castiel did so. The first ten comments all asked for daily vlogs. The eleventh asked for hourly ones. As they scrolled down, both of their faces became steadily more red. While a good amount of users had requested vlogs, a good number had asked in Dean and Castiel were in a relationship.

As the two teens reached a rather crudely worded comment inquiring of the status of their relationship, Dean cleared his throat.

"Well, I suppose that we'll need to address the little fact that we aren't together in the sense some are asking about." Castiel muttered, his face still a bright red.

"You wanna start a vlog now?" asked Dean. Castiel nodded.

"However, I should inform you that despite watching other YouTuber’s vlogs, I am a little unclear on the idea myself." admitted Castiel.

"It's pretty simple," Dean explained. "Just film random parts of your day, speaking into your camera if anything drastic happens. You remember that first YouTuber that I showed you?"

Castiel nodded.

"That's the style we want to imitate. If you want, we can film the first part now."

Castiel nodded again, once more in agreement. "That sounds good. So this will be the scene before the title frames?'

"Yeah."

Castiel gathered air in his cheeks, puffing them out before blowing it out slowly. "Okay, then." He promptly reached into his pocket, withdrew his video camera, and turned it on. The red light began flashing as Cas pointed it at the two of them.

"So, Dean here just drove me to school entirely, and just for the record- and to address over a dozen comments-"

Dean picked up on what Cas was about to say and together, they said: "We are not in a relationship!"

The green-eyed teen next to Cas wiped a mock tear away, as if disappointed, and Castiel laughed. He released the recording button.

"We good?" asked Dean.

"Yes. I suppose I will be seeing you at lunch."

As they made to get out of the car, Dean slapped his forehead in exasperation. Cas started recording again, pointing the camera at Dean. "I almost forgot! Here," he handed Castiel a small Kodak camera. "Put it in your locker to film updates between classes. you can keep it turned on, 'cause it's motion-activated. Bobby got a junk car a couple weeks ago, and this was jammed in the seat."

Castiel raised his eyebrows in surprise, adjusting the running video camera slightly. "You just found a camera? No strings attached?"

Dean blushed. "Well, there were a few... compromising photos to delete first, but- hey! You're filming!"

Castiel laughed and released the recording button. "Sounds good, Dean." said Cas, accepting the camera. Dean shook his head, grinning.

"See you at lunch!' he said.

"See you then, Dean."

The green-eyed boy grinned, saluted jokingly, and jogged up the steps. Filming his feet going up the steps for future vlogs, Castiel followed. The bell rang while he was in the hallway, and he turned on the camera after the first few moments, so the video caught the end of the bell.

"Aaaannnddd, I'm late." Castiel informed it, wincing exaggeratedly as he walked. He snuck into his classroom, the camera still on as he made his way to the math tutoring room. He collapsed into the teacher's chair with a grin. "Good thing my student is late too!"

He stopped recording until Elijah walked in, his math books held underneath his arm. He walked up to the student's chair with a nervous grin.

"Err... Castiel?" he asked timidly. As if on instinct, Castiel turned on his camera, letting it dangle limply at his side so it could capture the audio.

"Yes, Elijah?"

"Your last name is Novak, right?" Cas nodded. "So you are the one that plays guitar!"

Castiel gaped. "You saw my channel?" Elijah nodded excitedly.

"Yeah! Are you gonna do the daily vlogs?!"

In answer, Castiel brought up the still-filming camera, pointing it at his blonde student and capturing Elijah's expression of shock perfectly. "And now back to transitional sentences." Castiel said from behind the camera. Elijah rolled his eyes but he couldn't help the grin tugging at his lips. Ending the video, Castiel asked if it was okay for him to use the footage in the vlog. Elijah nodded eagerly.

Their lesson went well and soon the bell rung. This was the longest passing period (period between classes), and so Castiel had the time to set up the Kodak camera in his locker.

"So that was english," he informed it. "Now onto science and avoiding mean people. The joys of life."

He closed his locker and made his way to science, where he sat quietly at the back of the classroom. It went along uneventfully (if you count Castiel filming his pencil-and-composition-book-and-textbook drum solo as quietly as possible in the back of the classroom uneventful) until the teacher asked for their worksheets early. Walking to the front of the classroom, Mr. Werner cleared his throat. Castiel rested the video camera on the table, pressing the record button and pointing it at the teacher.

"So," Mr. Werner said. "A little birdy told me that one of my students has become rather successful with the guitar."

Castiel jerked his hand back from the camera, causing it to flip and capture his expression of shock perfectly.

"Crap," he breathed under his breath, steadying the camera towards the projector. Mr. Werner pressed one of the buttons on the remote and Castiel groaned out loud as the screen of his 'Secrets' cover was projected onto the whiteboard. Another press of the button and the video began. Castiel grabbed his camera and swivelled in his chair, holding it so it captured both his face and the video in the background. He made the most embarrassed face that he could with his face slowly turning red. With that, he stopped recording, instead opting to bury his head in his forearms.

When the class began to make the exaggerated swaying motion normally only done at concerts, Castiel filmed a quick clip of him softly banging his head on the table. Eventually, the song ended and and the class burst into thunderous applause. Castiel turned the video camera back on, filming himself hunching down in his seat.

"Are you going to do vlogs?" Someone yelled from near the front. In reply, Castiel turned his still-recording camera towards the student. They laughed. "I'm going to take that as a yes!" They called.

"Good idea!" Another student said.

Castiel went straight to biology next. The only thing he filmed was himself singing the a self-composed song on the different states of mitosis under his breath. He soon discovered that he could flip the pop-out screen so that he could film pointed towards himself and see what he was filming at the same time.

The next clip was filmed at his locker with the Kodak. "That was stressful," admitted Cas. "Here comes PE. No filming. Nu-uh. That isn't going to happen. I'll be back for art."

With that, he stowed his video camera in the locker and retrieved his gym clothes.

PE went well enough, with his coach congratulating him after class on his performance in the cafeteria the other day. Castiel grinned sheepishly before confiding that it wasn't meant to be a performance. His coach laughed, and then he went on back to the locker rooms.

"And now, art." Cas said cheerfully into the Kodak, retrieving his video camera and filming the way to the visual arts room.

He was sitting at his seat, drawing when Dean approached. "Boo!"

"Agh!" Castiel nearly slid off the seat in shock. He looked up to see that Dean was grinning maniacally behind Sam's cell-phone. Cas quickly surmised that the younger brother must have leant it to Dean for filming the scene. "Hello, Dean."

Dean laughed. "Heya, Cas! What are you drawing?"

Castiel smiled as he noticed that Dean was holding back the camera so that, unless Castiel was okay with it, none would see his drawing. Carefully, he set aside his charcoal stick and held up the heavy drawing paper. It was based off of one of his favorite photos; it showed the selfie Gabriel had taken when Castiel was still a ten-year-old. The boy had stolen Gabriel's sucker the moment that the photo had been taken, allowing his brother's look of shock and his own look of self-satisfaction to be captured perfectly.

"It's my brother and I," said Castiel, holding the picture up to the camera. Dean was silent. "Dean?"

"So you can draw too?! Jesus! Castiel, I am really and truly convinced that you're an angel!" said Dean, awed. Castiel blushed and set back down the drawing while Dean ended the video. The green-eyed teen examined the drawing further. "That's really amazing!"

"Thank you, Dean."

"Get back to work!" ordered the art teacher, startling the two teens. They grinned at each other and Dean went back to his desk.

As Castiel finished shading in the textbooks in the background, the bell rang. He slipped it into one of the plastic page-protectors in his portfolio and followed Dean out of the classroom.

"Lunchtime of a Half-day!" He announced to the Kodak camera, putting it into his shoulder bag and closing his locker. As he made to leave the hall, he was rather rudely interrupted.

"Where do you think you're going, Novak?" Alastair demanded. He began to push on Cas's shoulder and, due to the fact that the guitarist's father had kicked him in the very same shoulder the night before, Castiel winced.

"To lunch!" he spat bitterly, his anger finally making an appearance. Alastair reeled back in shock, but the smirk twitched at his lips before Castiel could make his escape. As Alastair leaned back in, Cas did the only thing he could think of, and turned the video camera onto Alastair. It wasn't recording, but it seemed that the bully thought it was, because he ran out of the hall as if hellhounds were on his tail. His posse didn't stray too far behind.

I wonder what would happen if I could get his father to install security cameras around the campus, thought Castiel, cautiously putting the camera back into his pocket. He was able to walk to the lunchroom without any further interruptions, and, after buying his lunch, he quickly located Dean at the back. The green-eyed teen waved at Castiel, to unopened bottles of soda by his thigh. Cas smiled and made a beeline towards the other teen, only smiling more when he saw that Dean had retrieved his guitar from the Impala.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas! You were late again."

Castiel winced, but quickly realized that Dean wasn't angry with him. "My apologies. Alastair held me up slightly, but," he smiled. "he appears to have an irrational fear of video cameras."

Dean laughed in delight and held the guitar towards Cas, who accepted it with thanks. They kept conversation,while the dark-haired teen strummed his fingers absentmindedly over the strings. Eventually, Dean set up the video camera, so that if anything big occured, they would have the footage.

"Are you able to come home with me again- God," Dean laughed. "That sounds so wrong."

Castiel grinned. "I will take you up on that invitation in the innocent manner it was meant in."

Without thinking, he began playing the tune of 'I Write Sins not Tragedies', humming along quietly. Immediately, several gasps sounded from the people nearest and they turned to Cas. Dean shrugged. "Guess they like it."

Castiel smiled and obliged them, singing the well-known song.

Dean rested his chin in his palms, grinning at the singing Cas. The guitarist shot Dean a wink and he laughed out loud. Somehow , Cas realized, being on screen makes me more confident.

"-Pour the champagne," Cas was singing. With a mirthful glint in his eye, Dean jokingly held up his soda as if toasting. Castiel had to suppress a laugh as he sang, but he was sure that it had came out in his voice somehow.

When he finished the song, tumultuous applause rose in Cas's ears. He glanced up in shock; apparently, he had once more forgotten that he had an audience. Dean motioned towards them and, narrowing his eyes and huffing a breath toward Dean, Castiel bowed to his audience. The bell rang and Dean flew to turn off the video camera, grabbing Cas's tray as well as he put away his own. Castiel put his guitar back into it's heavily decal-ed case and closed the clasps, picking it up and following Dean towards the door.

The green-eyed teen practically leapt towards his car, motioning both Cas and Sam towards the Impala. Both exchanged amused looks at the teen's enthusiasm. Sam immediately went towards the back, accepting his cell-phone back from Dean and buckling himself in. In the passenger seat, the seatbelt clicked as Castiel snapped the two pieces together. Dean, in the meantime, didn't deign to put on his own seatbelt.

"Dean," Sam said in a warning tone.

"Yes, Sammy?" asked Dean in a tone far too innocent to be honest.

"Put on your seatbelt."

"Aww, C'mon! It's not like I need it!" complained Dean. "Cas, back me up, man!"

Instead of agreeing with Dean, Cas arched an eyebrow and fixed Dean with his 'I'm-going-to-stare-at-you-until-you-feel-awkward-and-comply-with-me' stare. Dean met Castiel's gaze with unwaveringly green eyes before tearing his gaze away and buckling his seatbelt with a huff. Sam laughed from the backseat.

"Aaannddd cut!"

Both Dean and Castiel looked back incredulously to see that he had been filming the scene on his cellphone. Castiel smiled and Dean gave a mocking huff before pulling out of the parking spot.

Traffic wasn't too bad, as it appeared that Dean had been one of the first to reach his car, and they were at 'Singer Salvages' within a half-hour. The 67' Impala rolled into the driveway, Metallica on blast and all occupants of the car singing along loudly. Even Cas, who was normally so reserved most people thought him mute. Yes, his YouTubing was certainly bringing out the confidence in him. Dean gestured Castiel up towards the house and, after exchanging emails with Sam, Cas following. School bags swinging from their shoulders, the two teens made their way up the stairs and to Dean's bedroom. Cas's green-eyed companion stopped short and Castiel nearly ran into him. On Dean's bed lay a be-ribboned Samsung Smartphone.

"Haha! Yes!" Dean crowed as he raced to the bed and yanked off the red ribbon, clearly elated. Cas smiled from behind him, having caught the whole scene on tape. He put down the camera and approached Dean.

"I'm going to use me superior skills of deduction to infer that you are ecstatic," joked Castiel. Dean laughed in reply and turned on the phone. The green-eyed teen shot Castiel a happy grin.

"Look at this! The camera is just right for vlogging!"

Smiling, Castiel sat beside Dena. "That's excellent, Dean."

"Definitely." Dean nodded in agreement, turning on the camera in the selfie-direction and pressing the record button. Castiel surmised that he was testing it out. "I mean, it's nothing nearly as magical as a phoenix-feather wand, but it'll do."

Castiel blinked in confusion. "Phoenix-feather wand?"

A look of dawning was beginning to cross Dean's face. "... are you telling me that you've never watched 'Harry Potter'?"

Now very confused, Castiel shook his head. Recording phone still held in front of him, Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and dragged him down the stairs. "Dean!" Cas protested half-heartedly. Dean grinned and they bolted through the back door, to where Sam and Bobby were locked in conversation.

"Hey! Bobby! Sammy!" Hollered Dean. The two males turned to look at him. "Cas has never seen Harry Potter! We're gonna marathon it tonight!"

Sam blanched. "All of them?"

Dean nodded vigorously. "We all gotta take a nap, but yeah!"

Gruffly, Bobby said: "I suppose I can take an hour or twenty off the cars. It would be a great way to start winter break."

"Haha!" Dean cheered, holding aloft his recording phone. "This is gonna be great!"

Laughing Castiel followed him back up to his bedroom. "So how long will the marathon be?"

Dean froze and slapped his forehead, groaning. "I totally forgot! Do you think you might be able to glean an overnight over here from your dad." Castiel cocked his head, thinking.

"I won't be able to stay with a friend," Castiel began uncertainly. Dean seemed to visibly deflate. "However, should I mention that I am not staying with a friend, rather, with one of the students I tutor?"

Dean laughed, surprised. "You should probably mention that!"

Castiel smiled and retrieved his surface, moving it so Dean was out of the frame and Skype Calling his father. It rang quietly, the opened to show his father slouching on the couch. Like always, multiple crushed beer cans surrounded him, as if the throne of an alcoholic.

"Wha'd you want, boy?!" the man demanded, scratching at his ratty undershirt.

"Hello, father. I have been asked to stay at a student's house overnight so as to provide extra tutelage." lied Castiel.

His father grunted, sniffing loudly. "Come home something like three days past New Year's." With that proclamation, the video chat ended abruptly.

"He was joking about that end thing, wasn't he?" asked Dean, seeming mostly in attempt to break the silence. Castiel heaved a sigh and shook his head.

"Unfortunately not. I will get a part-time job at a motel." Castiel decided. Dean gaped.

"You mean that he's honestly kicking you out of the house in the middle of winter?!"

Castiel shrugged. "He's done it before."

Dean gaped a little longer before holding his hand out to Castiel. Unsure, Castiel took it. Dean led him back downstairs and into the kitchen. "Wait here," said Dean, firmly. Cas did as told and Dean exited out the back door. Castiel stood in an awkward silence by himself for about a minute before Dean reentered.

"Good news, Cas! On the condition that you don't get sick of us too quickly and you make some kinda baked good at least once a week- personal input from Bobby there-, you can stay here over winter break!"

Castiel felt his jaw drop. "Are you serious?"

"Yep."

"Yes!" Castiel finally burst out, so quickly that it seemed as if he was terrified of Dean retracting his offer. Dean smiled at Castiel's enthusiasm and motioned him back up towards his bedroom.

"Honestly, what kind of Dad treats their kid like that?" said Dean.

Sighing, Castiel replied: "Mine", his hand unconsciously reached over his shoulder and towards his back. Dean's eyes narrowed as he noticed the movement and Castiel froze, his hands slowly withdrawing.

"Cas," said Dean, his voice sounding carefully controlled. "Did he... hit you?"

Castiel felt his eyes prick with tears. This wasn't fair. No one had found out his entire life through. And now his only friend had to find out. Dean swore softly. "Did he break the skin?"

A tear dripped down castiel's cheek and his green-eyed companion wiped it away as the dark-haired teen nodded. " Shit , Cas. You aren't going back there. C'mere." Castiel allowed himself to lean into Dean's embrace as he laboriously walked them to his bed. Castiel sobbed silently as he felt Dean gently sat him upon the comforter, carefully taking off Castiel's trenchcoat. The blue-eyed teen couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable in his white button-up. Dean crouched in front of Cas, undoing to top buttons carefully and helping Cas worm his way out of the sleeves. The cloth slipped down his back slightly, resting at his hips.

"I'll be right back." Dean promised, squeezing Cas's hand before walking to the bathroom. Alone, Castiel pulled his shirt tighter around his waist and lower torso, as if wanting for warmth. Dean was back with medical supplies before any real time had passed, and Castiel held still as Dean took in the sight of his welted and bloody back with a sharp gasp.

" Shit , Cas." The teen repeated, seating himself behind Castiel and dabbing carefully at the dried blood with a warm, damp towel. Castiel bit his lip, trying to distract himself from the tenderness with which his wounds were tended to with. "This is gonna sting a little," Dean warned, swiping a cold, wet cotton swab over the places where Cas knew his skin was broken. The blue-eyed teen squeezed his eyes shut to keep from crying as, true enough, his skin began to sting. The cotton swab had been dipped in disinfectant, Castiel realized.

Castiel felt Dean use medical tape to place gauze squares over the worst of the cuts, before loosely winding several strips of gauze around his upper torso. Humming in concerned satisfaction, Dean helped Castiel put his white button-up back on, knotting the blue tie carefully at his collar. Castiel folded his trenchcoat, setting it on the nightstand. "I'm sorry," he said softly. Dean grabbed his hand, causing him to look back over at Dean.

"Don't be sorry," said the green-eyed teen. "That wasn't your fault, that was Jim's. And I'm gonna do my best so you never have to worry about him again. With your permission, of course." Dean added. Castiel nodded mutely, trying his best not to allow the emotion to suffuse him.

"I'm gonna go help Bobby out with the car's. You could come with, or record a song," proposed Dean. Castiel smiled.

"I believe I'll record and upload a song, then go find you."

Dean grinned and shot Castiel a thumbs up. "Excellent. See you soon!"

Castiel nodded in reply and watched as Dean practically skipped out the door. Smiling slightly, he turned on the camera and began to strum the first two chords.

Chapter Text

Castiel smiled as he exited the house, going straight to where he could hear the clinking of a wrench. Sure enough, Bobby and Dean were discussing the schematics of replacing a hubcap. Dean glanced over and grinned. "Hey, Cas! You're just in time."

The green-eyed mechanic put his wrench back into the toolbox. "We're gonna take a nap before we marathon the movies. You okay with that?"

Castiel suppressed a yawn, nodding vigorously. "That I am. Today has been rather stressful, and certainly exhausting, so perhaps retiring early and sleeping in would make well for a movie marathon."

Dean nodded and Bobby stared. "Dean-boy, I've said it before and I'll say it again; you have a regular genius on your hands."

Castiel blushed in embarrassment and Dean laughed easily. "That I do," said the green-eyed teen, shooting Cas an admiring glance. Castiel flushed even more underneath Dean's gaze. “We have a vlog to edit, though.”Castiel smiled and nodded as Dean withdrew the uploading cables from his pockets. He said: “To my room!” in the same manner one would say: “To the batmobile.”

The dark-haired teen followed his green-eyed friend.

******

At long last, they were finished, as Dean hit the upload key. He reloaded the page to show the new addition and grinned. "Now, naptime!"

Laughing at the sudden announcement, Castiel grinned. "I haven't had 'naptime' since you were 'Dan'!"

Dean smiled at the sentiment. "And you were Bumblebee boy?"

"That is correct."

They tromped up the stairs and soon, Castiel was helping Dean move the junk off of his bed. Suddenly, Dean froze. "Er... Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"... are you okay with sleeping in the same bed? I just realized we don't have a spare mattress for me."

"I would be perfectly fine with that," Castiel answered, internally enjoying Dean's awkwardness. Dean heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank god."

And with that, he promptly pulled his T-shirt over his head, casting it aside to where his overflowing laundry basket resided. Castiel neatly folded his own white button-up, placing his tie over it and sliding underneath the covers. Dean flicked off the lights and shut the blinds, turning off his fan and directing it at them. Castiel smiled into the cool breeze, shutting his eyes and snuggling into blankets. He heard Dean laugh at his actions and opened his eyes, blinking owlishly at the green-eyed teen.

"You're adorable," grinned Dean, bopping him softly on the nose. Castiel flushed and hid a smile, closing his eyes again and falling asleep almost immediately.

***

Castiel awoke a good six hours or so later to Dean groaning and shifting. He snuggled closer, only to have his eyes shoot open. He was snuggling into Dean's side. Crap. Dean fidgeted a little more, and Castiel caught a glimpse of his eyes opening to reveal his dark green eyes before he shut his own eyes, doing his best to appear asleep. Dean seemed to take in their position, and he laughed softly.

"Cas," he hissed, shaking Castiel's arm. Blinking blearily, Cas pretended to awaken.

"Hello, Dean."

"It's movie time, angel!" The green-eyed teen exclaimed, the nickname slipping out without either person noticing. He combed his fingers through his hair, sweeping into a suitable style, before helping Castiel up. As one, the groaned upon seeing that a glass of water had spilled upon Castiel's shirt. Cas adjusted the bindings around his chest nervously.

"Crap! I'm sorry!" Dean muttered, grabbing a dark blue V-neck tee from his closet. "Maybe you could wear this for now?"

Castiel donned it without complaint, yawning and snuggling his face into the collar of it. He looked up to meet Dean's gaze. Grinning, Dean said: "I'm pretty sure it's unfair for a person to act as adorably as you can". Castiel shrugged sheepishly. They bounded down the stairs to see that it was pretty dark out, but that Bobby (who, judging by his mussed up hair, had just gotten up from a nap of his own) was setting snacks and drinks along the coffee table.

"Heya." The man said in greeting. Dean smiled and led Castiel to the couch, collapsing onto it beside him just as Sam walked in. Castiel watched in disbelief as the sophomore just shook his head once, his bed-head transforming into seemingly well-combed hair. Castiel himself had given up on his own hair when he just couldn't. Stop it. From looking. Messy!
Sam turned on the television, sliding in the disk. Outdated trailers playing, the sophomore sat down on Castiel's other side. Then, in what was clearly supposed to be a feminine voice, he said: "Wotcher, Castiel."

Both Bobby and Dean laughed, explaining that he would get the reference after he had watched the fifth movie. Castiel grinned nervously and snuggled into Dean's side. Dean pressed the ‘play movie’ and an owl swooped down, obscuring the menu. The screen went dark, then slowly faded lighter to show the Warner Bros logo. Dean jerked forward, fumbling with the remote to pause the move, and then setting up the camera on the video table, keeping it faced towards them.

“Now just make the occasional snarky comment,” winked Dean. Castiel flushed, but did as told. And so Castiel watched, enraptured as Dumbledore placed Harry at his relatives’ doorstep, explaining it would be for the best. He frowned immediately at the treatment of the Potter at the hand of his relatives, and as if sensing his friend’s discomfort, Dean gently rubbed his shoulder, unconsciously soothing him. He watched with awe the letters ricocheting out of the fireplace, and smiled in amusement at Vernon’s paranoia. He openly gaped as Hagrid burst into the hut, the lightning flashing behind him. The group smiled in amusement at Dudley’s mistaken identity, and then, he was in Diagon Alley. Castiel felt as if he had been transported into the wizarding world, as the baubles flashed and popped around them. Then the train, and then Ron. Then Malfoy, then Hermione.
By the time that the teen got to Hogwarts, Castiel was clutching Dean, eager to catch his first glimpse of Hogwarts. Then the boats rounded the corner and the building stood there, its majesty silhouetted against the dark sky. The ghosts came as a surprise, and so did the hat. The story was full of awe on Harry’s part, but Castiel couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t done yet. Sure enough, there was a cerberus. Later, he gaped disbelievingly, upon learning that Hagrid had named it Fluffy. Was he crazy!? By the time that Quirrell was revealed to be Lord Voldemort, he was sitting on the edge of his seat. The popcorn he had gathered into his hand at the beginning of the movie remained uneaten; the teen was completely absorbed in the fight.

And then it ended. Harry was in the hospital wing, Dumbledore at the foot of his bed. Finally, Castiel watched with a grin as the Hogwarts train faded into the distance. The credits began, and Dean shifted slightly beneath Castiel.

“What do you think?” the green-eyed teen said, grinning. “Worth a marathon?”

Eyes still glued to the screen, Castiel replied: “Oh, yeah.”

Sam laughed and got up, putting in the second disk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time that they had finished, Castiel was struggling to keep his eyes open. Nevertheless, he kep them open, clutching Dean tighter as the last movie cimaxed. Slowly, he relaxed, smiling at the ending. At long last, the light faded.

“That was stellar,” Castiel said softly. Dean chuckled, grinning down at his friend.

“Definitely. But…” he helped Cas up, yawning widely. “I think I need another nap.”

“Mhm.” Castiel had only eaten one or two of the many snacks, and he was, quite frankly, exhausted. Instead of allowing Dean to get up, Cas snuggled into his chest, pulling the blanket up to their shoulders. Just before he dropped off, he could’ve sworn he felt a light kiss pressed to his forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cas awoke several hours later to find that Dean had carried him up to his room. The green eyed teen was currently editing the vlog, or rather, compilation of sassy critiquing..

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean startled, nearly dropping the surface, before grinning sheepishly.

“Hey, Cas. I’m just finishing up the vlog now. I actually included a script at the end. It’s full of fake Hogwarts rules I thought you might like.”

Cas, sat up, his interest peaked, as Dean handed him a list several pages long. Soon, he was laughing. “These are wonderful, Dean, but I wish you to say them.”

Dean froze.

“You did write them, after all.”

Dean nodded, slowly. “... I guess I can do that. But,” he frowned. “This is your channel, Cas! I don’t want to start taking over!”

Cas sat up, the blanket pooling around his waist. And he stared. Dean allowed a long-suffering sigh.

“This is your ‘I’m-going-to-stare-until-you-are-give-in’ stare, isn’t it?”

Without letting his eyes contact waver, Castiel nodded solemnly. Dean held his gaze for a silent four minutes, then he gave in, much to Cas’s amusement.

“Okey dokey, Cas. If you’re sure.”

Castiel smiled and turned the camera on Dean. Looking into the camera, Dean began.

Eventually the boy finished, and he cut the part together to make it run faster. Finally, he gave the surface to Castiel, and the blue-eyed boy uploaded the video.“

Vlog 2 + Dean’s Hogwarts Rules,” Dean read with a smile. Castiel gave his own sheepish smile, and clicked on the video. The first part was just him taking situations from the movie, and stating things so bluntly that they were weird. Dean was snickering after his first five comments, and full-on laughing by the end, while Castiel just nodded along solemnly. Eventually, they came to the part the Cas had been waiting for.

Dean’s Hogwarts Rules:

1) I will not, under any circumstances, ask Harry Potter who died and made him boss.
2) Professor Flitwick's first name is not Yoda.
3) I am not allowed to refer to Professor McGonagall as “Minnie McGee”.
4) I will not sing the Badger Song during Hufflepuff-Slytherin Quidditch matches.
5) When Death Eaters are attacking Hogsmeade, I shall not point at the Dark Mark and shout "To the Batmoblie, Robin!".
6) Any resemblance between Dementors and Nazgul is purely coincidental, and I should stop creating conspiracies about the breeding department of the ministry.
7) I will not refer to the Weasley Twins as "bookends".
8) I will not try to point out how manipulative Dumbledore is over crepes.
9) I will not hold my wand in the air before I casting spells shouting "I got the power!".
10) I am not allowed to paint the house elves blue and call them smurfs.
11) I will not slip Malfoy a Love Potion in his morning goblet of Pumpkin Juice.
12) Should I chance to see a Death Eater wearing a white mask, I should not start singing anything from The Phantom of the Opera.
13) I will not call Dumbledore "Santa Claus!" during the Christmas Holidays. SANTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
14) I will not put Muggle fairy book in the History section at the library.
15) I will not send Snape a bottle of shampoo for Christmas.
16) I am not allowed to tell Hufflepuffs there is no Santa Claus.
17) I am not allowed to refer to myself as the New Dark Lord.
18) I am not allowed to sneak into Professor Snape's private chambers to watch him sing I Will Survive in the mirror, as it is disturbing.
19) I am not allowed to steal Professor Flitwick’s wand, hold it over my head and laugh as he tries to reach it.
20)I will not replace Madam Pomfrey's Skele-Gro with pumpkin juice.
21) I will not replace Professor Snape's pumpkin juice with Skele-Gro.
22) I will not impersonate Gordon Ramsay in Potions class.
23) The next time that I see Rita Skeeter, I am not to threaten her with a can of Raid.
24.) I will not subvert the lock on the fourth-floor girls' bathroom and sell its location to first-years as "The Chamber of Secrets".
25) When applying for a post at the Ministry of Magic after graduation, I should not cite "Fred and George Weasley" as my greatest influence at Hogwarts.
26) Putting down "Lord Voldemort" is probably not best either.
27) A Muggle "vacuum cleaner" is not acceptable Quidditch equipment, even if it has been enchanted to fly.
28) Hogsmeade village is not "a wretched hive of scum and villainy”.
29) I will not tell Professor Trelawney that I prophesied her death.
30) I will also not tell Professor Trelawney that I had a vision of her killing the Dark Lord.
40.) Sending rings to the nine senior faculty at Yuletide, with the return address "Voldemort," is not funny.
41) Insisting that the school acquire computers and wifi is a pointless request as they claim that a quill and parchment is sufficient.
42) Calling the Ghostbusters is a cruel joke to play on the resident ghosts and poltergeists
43) I may not have a private army.
44) I must not substitute chocolate-flavored laxative for Professor Lupin's prescription-strength chocolate.
45) Nor am I to in any way substitute, alter, hide, or otherwise tamper with Professor Dumbledore's candy.
46) I am not the wicked witch of the West.
47) I will not refer to Professor Umbridge as such either.
48) I will not melt if water is poured over me.
49) Neither will Professor Umbridge.
50) I shouldn't use Photoshop to create incriminating photos of my house prefects or tutors.
51) I will not enchant the Golden Snitch to fly up the nearest fan's nose.
52) I do not know the Avada Kedavra curse, and pretending I do to people who annoy me is not funny, no matter how much they injure themselves diving for cover.
53) I will not test my Potions assignments by spiking Snape's drink with them.
54) Especially not all of them at once.
55) I will not try to hock off my old piercings as "priceless Muggle artifacts."
56) I will not claim my X-Files tapes are "Auror Training Videos."
57) Professor Snape definitely does not have pointed ears, and under no circumstances is he to be addressed as 'Spock'.
58) I am not able to see the Grim Reaper, nor am I to claim that he is standing by the Headmaster, tapping an hourglass and looking at him impatiently. Or, for that matter, Harry Potter.
59) When being interrogated by a member of staff, I am not to wave my hand and announce 'These are not the droids you are looking for'.
60) Thestrals do not resemble the Muggle toys known as 'My Little Pony'.
61) The four Houses are not the Morons, the Borons, the Smarts and the Junior Death Eaters.
62) Despite my personal beliefs, Quidditch would not be improved by the introduction of Muggle firearms.
63) Though they are doubtless more athletic, battle-axes are not acceptable either.
64) I will not claim there is a prequel to Hogwarts, A History that explains about Bilbo Baggins.
65) I will not use the Marauder's Map for stalking purposes.
66) I am not allowed to introduce Peeves to paintballing.
67) I am not allowed to ask Professor Dumbledore if the size of his beard is 'compensating for something'.
68) I will not create a betting pool that Voldemort is Harry Potter's father.
69) Headmaster Dumbledore is of no relation to Willy Wonka.
70) Professor Snape's proper given name is not Princess Silvermoon Fairywing Glimmer McSparkles.
71) Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are not the magical equivalent of "Batman and Robin".
72) I will not play the Imperial March theme for Professor Snape whenever he walks through the Great Hall.
73) However, when Lucius Malfoy visits, I may play it.
74) If I insist on carrying out my plans of producing "Riddle-de-dee: The Voldemort Musical", I will do so under a nom-de-plume.
75) I will not attempt to recruit the title character to play himself. Even if he looks good in tap shoes.
76) I should not refer to Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle collectively as "Team Rocket" either.
77) I am not allowed to discuss my theory that Voldemort is actually the second cousin of Sauron.
78) I am not a 'ninja sent here by Lord Voldemort to destroy Harry Potter' and should stop shouting this at meal times.
79) It’s not tasteful to approach Cho wearing a shirt that says "All The Good Looking Ones Die Young" with a picture of Cedric Diggory on it.
80) I will not yell "Hey look! It’s Lord Voldemort!" at Hogsmeade
81) I will not tease Voldemort about the time he needed his pink flowery teddy bear to comfort him when he had that bad, bad nightmare about Harry
82) I will not charm a poster of Britney Spears onto Draco's wall
83) I am not allowed to begin each Herbology class by singing the theme song to “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.”
84) I will not call Professor McGonagall “McGoogles”.
85) I will not sing the entire “Multiplication Rocks” series during Arithmancy exams.
86) There is no such thing as the chamber of Double Secret Probation.
87) My name is not “the Dark Lord Happy-Pants” and I am not allowed to sign my papers as such.
88) Bringing fortune cookies to divination class does not count for extra credit.
89) I will not douse Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak with lemon juice to see if he will become visible while wearing it and standing by the fire in the common room.
90) I will not tell first years they should build a treehouse in the Whomping Willow.
91) I will not teach the house elves to impersonate Jar Jar Binks.
92) I will not give Gryffindors pixie sticks.
93) I am not allowed to refer to Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and Justin Finch-Fletchley as Blossom, Buttercup, and Bubbles.
94) A time turner is not a flux capacitor I should therefore not try to install it in a Muggle car.
95) I shall not refer to DADA professors as canaries in a coal mine.
96) When fighting Death Eaters in the annual June good vs. evil fight I will not lift my wand skyward and shout “There can only be ONE”.
97) A wand is for magic only, it is not for picking noses, playing snooker, or playing drums no matter how bored I become.
98) It is generally accepted that cats and dragons cannot interbreed and I should not attempt to disprove this theory no matter how wicked the results would be.
99) 42 is not the answer to every question on the O.W.L.S.
100) I am allowed to have a cat, rat, toad, or an owl. I am not allowed to have reticulated python, snow leopard, Tasmanian devil, or piranha.
101) No matter how good an Australian accent I can do, I will not imitate Steve Irwin during Care of Magical Creatures class.
102) I will not refer to the Defense against the Dark arts professor as Kenny, even if he is wearing an orange anorak.
103) Dumbledore is not Gandalf.
104) Do not confuse Aragorn, Eragon and Aragog. Ever.
105) I may not introduce Nagini to Indiana Jones.
106) Challenging Ron to a slug-eating contest is just mean.
107) Under no circumstances am I allowed to refer to Voldemort as "Baldy".
108) Even if he is.
109) I am not allowed to tell the first years to have a staring contest with the Basilisk.
110) I am prohibited from sprinkling glitter on Draco Malfoy, dying his hair, and call him Edward.
111) I am not allowed sell Mrs. O'Leary to Hagrid.
112) I will not give Professor Lupin a collar as a Christmas or birthday present.
113) Saying "I think I 'taw a puddytat!" every time I see Professor McGonagall is most certainly NOT allowed.
114) Offering Voldemort a colonial-era powdered wig (complete with ponytail) will not amuse him and I am not allowed to do so, even if he needs a new hair do.
115) I am not allowed to paint the school neon pink as the only person it will amuse is Professor Umbridge.
116) I must not introduce Voldemort to a psychiatrist as it is likely to result in him having a temper tantrum.
117) I am not allowed to introduce the Cullens to Professor Lupin.
118) I am not allowed to tease Professor Lupin about his 'time of the month'.
119) I shall not play match-maker for Voldemort on Valentine's Day because it will only make him cry when no one will go out with him because of his lack of hair.
120) I am not allowed to be a match-maker for Shelob and Aragog either.
121) I will not arrange a battle to the death between nine Hungarian Horntails and the Nazgul.
122) I will not scream, "HIS NAME IS EDWARD!" any time I hear the words Cedric Diggory.
123) I will not ask the centaurs if they know where Chiron is because I have found a demigod.
124) I will not shout at dinner times that Darth Sideous is Voldemort's uncle, even if they do look alike.
125) I shall not try to persuade everyone that Percy Weasley's true name is Percy Jackson and he slays monsters with a pen for a living.
126) I will not sing 'I'm a Survivor' after the Battle of Hogwarts.
127) No matter how fun it looks, I will not stand on a table and do the Macarena at the Yule Ball.
128) Professor Lupin is not the magical equivalent of Wolverine and I am not allowed to address him as such.
129) Even if I'm bored, I am not allowed to ask Snape what is the mysterious ticking noise.
130) I will not dye Harry's hair pink or give him brown contacts, just because he copied Percy Jackson.
131) Whether they owe me money or not, I am not allowed to sneak into Fred and George's dorm at the dead of night to die their hair blond, spike it unreasonably high, then call them John and Edward in the morning.
132) I will not send Voldemort white robes for Christmas and claim he changed his name to, "Voldy the White."
133) And when he wears them, I am not allowed to run around Hogsmeade screaming, "AHHH! It's an albino dementor!"
134) It is not tasteful to send Professor McGonagall a scratching post for Christmas.
135) Bringing a magic eight ball to Divination class will only get Professor Trelawney annoyed at your, "Lack of Inner Eye."
136) To which I am not allowed to reply.
137) I will not refer to the Accio charm as 'The Force'.
138) Nor am I allowed to have lightsaber fights with my wand and make whoosing noises.
139) "Because they both need to wash their hair," is not proof Professor Snape and Aragorn are related.
140) There is also no proof that Gimli and Flitwick are related.
141) Singing 'Hungry Like The Wolf' in Professor Lupin's class is not a way to get extra credit.
142) I am not allowed to write on the wall in the Gryffindor Common Room, "I know where you live" or "I stole all your underwear!"
143) I am not allowed to replace the Bludgers with peas, tomatoes, plums or anything that is not a Bludger.
144) Portable swamps are not funny.
145) And I will not set off the above in Snape's sleeping quarters.
146) Or in the Slytherin's bathrooms.
147) In fact, I am not allowed to even buy portable swamps.
148) Harry Potter is not a Son of Poseidon and saying this everytime I see him will only result in him filing a restraining order against me.
149) My patronus is not a Nazgul.
150) Neither is my animagus form.
151) "To conquer the earth with an army of flying monkeys" is not an appropriate career choice.
152) It still is not appropriate, even if I have substituted the flying monkeys with gummy bears.
153) I will not levitate everywhere in a big pink bubble.
154) My professors have neither the time, nor the inclination to hear about what I did with six boxes of Sugar Quills.
155) No part of the school uniform is edible.
156) Nor am I allowed to make any part of the school uniform edible.
157) I will not try to take house points from the first years for "being too goddamned short".
158) Especially as I am in no position of authority and Dumbledore would have to be heavily drugged before he would ever make me a prefect.
159) I am not allowed to wear singing holiday-themed ties and claim that they are officially part of my uniform. Especially not during June.
160) Luna Lovegood does not have pointed ears, nor is she to be addressed as 'Galadriel'.
161) Lucius Malfoy also does not have pointed ears, nor is he to be addressed as 'Haldir'.
162) I am not the reincarnation of Merlin.
163)I am not allowed to Accio the clothing of any person while they are wearing it.
164) I am to attend astronomy class and should stop yelling that aliens will abduct me if I do.
165) Hogwarts does not require a karaoke machine.
166) No matter how much I would enjoy watching Harry sing, "Saturday Night."
167) "Defying my will" is not a crime worthy of life in Azkaban, and I should not tell that to the first-years.
168) I will not speak to Professor Snape with a Transylvanian accent.
169) Nor am I to ask if he is Carlisle Cullen's evil, unfortunate-looking twin.
170) I will not start a rumor saying that Professor Snape sings "I'm too sexy for my robes" while showering. Or for that matter doing any other activity.
171) Enchanting the Sorting Hat to sort new students into the House of Martok, or any other Klingon house is forbidden.
172) Voldemort does not wish to appear as the 'before' for a line of cosmetics. And no, he does not care how much money I make from it.
173) The Slytherin prefect is named Draco Malfoy, not "Rocky Horror".
174) Transfiguring Draco Malfoy's uniform into a gold thong is also inappropriate.
175) I will not attempt to determine whether Malfoy is a natural blond.
176) I will not spread rumors that Legolas Greenleaf is his second cousin either.
177) Luna Lovegood is NOT always on "physicidelic mushrooms" and I should stop implying that she is.
178) The same goes for Professor Trelawney.
179) I will not get a tattoo of a smiley face on my arm and claim that it is the new Dark Mark.
180) When signing to all of these rules, I am not allowed to write in red ink and say that the Cullens lent me some grizzly bear blood.
181) I will not set my robes on fire to get out of potions.
182) I should not be a sports' commentator for Ron and Hermione's arguments.
183) Hogwarts does not need a "This many days since Harry has almost died," sign.
184) I will not tell Draco Malfoy that Pigfarts is real.
185) Never confuse Cho Chang and Lavender Brown. Ever.
186) Draco Malfoy is NOT a girl, no matter what StarKid says.”

They went through the comments, replied once or twice, and laughed more than once before they drifted off once more.

Chapter Text

    They woke, surprisingly enough, to sunrise. Castiel was still marveling over both how little and how much had been accomplished in the last two days when he was whacked with a pillow. He scrambled to push the cloth out of his way, before he was greeted with Dean’s grinning face.

    “Good morning!” exclaimed the teen. Castiel smiled slightly as he sat up, wordlessly accepting the T-shirt Dean was offering.

    “Good morning, Dean.”

    “Bobby told me to wake you up, he has breakfast downstairs.”

    Castiel rolled out of bed, sluggishly squirming onto the plush carpet. Dean laughed at Cas, then offered a hand, pulling the dark-haired teen upright. Yawning, Castiel ran his fingers through his hair in attempt to straighten it out a bit, and then gave up.

    The two teens tromped down the stairs to be greeted with the sight of Sam’s shell-shocked face moments before Castiel was greeted with the sight of a pancake slapping Dean in the face. The room was absolutely silent. Slowly, the pancake slid off of Dean’s cheek to land with a feeble “thop” on the floor.

    “Oops,” said Sam, guiltily. The younger male was holding a pan in one hand, still in the position of flipping a pancake; Castiel could easily surmise what had happened. From the table, Bobby started to chuckle, and the action spread soon enough. Ever so ruefully, Dan reached down and tossed the half-cooked pancake into the trash can. When Bobby remained laughing for longer than any of the others, they glanced over to see that he was holding Sam’s cell-phone aloft, the blinking red light announcing that he had been recording. Dean’s arms dropped to his sides and he pouted.

    “Really?”

    Bobby shrugged and tossed the phone back to Sam. “Your brother told me to start filming when you came on into the room; I think he wanted to scare you but was caught off guard.”

    Sam turned a bright red and grinned sheepishly. Dean groaned and snatched the phone, pressing the few buttons that Cas knew would send the video to Dean’s own phone. Sure enough, the device in the green-eyed teen’s pocket chimed and Dean gave Sam his phone back, taking a seat at the table. Dean promptly pulled the platter of pancakes toward him and began to stuff his face. Castiel smiled slightly at Sam’s disgusted reaction to Dean’s lack of manners, and took the seat opposite to the mechanic.

    After the had finished their meal, Bobby cleared his throat. “So, I’ve been thinking about what you boys can do, and I can’t come up with much. So Dean, you are taking Castiel to the store and you are going to go Christmas shopping while I brainstorm.”

    Dean raised an eyebrow. “Why are we going to do our Christmas Shopping so early?”

    Bobby rolled his eyes. “Dean, most people start Christmas shopping at around this time; not everyone waits for the last minute, like you.” Dean pouted in thought, then nodded.

    “Fair enough.”

    Castiel nodded his own assent, but the Sam cleared his throat. “Guys…” He trailed off awkwardly. “Check the channel.”

    Dean shrugged and pulled up his phone, doing so; not much happened besides an appreciative raising of his eyebrows. Castiel caught on first.

    “Oh no.”

    Sam nodded, grimacing slightly. “Oh yeah. I’m afraid so.”

    Then, Dean realized, and he banged his head softly on the table with a small groan of realization.

    “Someone wanna tell me what’s going on?” asked Bobby. Dean shot Cas a look of askance, but the dark-haired teen nodded. Dean sighed, then passed Bobby his phone. The mechanic’s eyebrows shot up.

    “Fifty thousand subscribers? There are fifty thousand people who watch videos you make?!”

    Castiel nodded uncertainly. Bobby lowered the phone with a small sigh.

    “That’s going to be an issue.”

    “Get him paparazzi shades!” Sam chirped, clearly trying to break the somber mood. Dean rolled his eyes, but Bobby snorted. Castiel shifted uncomfortably.

    “You could wear a hat?” suggested Dean. Bobby scryed Cas critically.

    “Yeah. Hide the messy hair, and that might work.” announced Sam, from the other side of the table.

    “Cas?” Dean asked. Castiel bit his lip, then nodded.

    “Yes, that seems a plausible idea to me.”

    Bobby gave a nod of allowance, and at once, Sam had shot away from the table to grab his backpack, informing excitedly how he had alphabetized the list of the intended recipients he would gift. Dean and Castiel exchanged amused glances, before Cas left to don the trenchcoat he had kept by the door.

    Moments and a tan beanie later, they were filing into Dean’s impala, and the green-eyed teen blasted Aerosmith as they went. All three occupants of the vehicle sang along loudly, and Castiel had to smother a laugh at the strange glances Dean received when he practically stuck his head out of the window in the throes of an “Eye of the Tiger” verse. Castiel may or may not have taped a particularly well-lipsynced verse of “When the Levee Breaks”.

    They arrived at the store without any real issues, and Dean and Castiel were immediately deported to the book section by Sam. Dean and Cas videotaped the younger brother exclaiming excitedly about each and every one of the featured books. Finally, the sophomore caught on, and he yelped as he tried to conceal the lens with his hands. Castiel and Dean exchanged glances, then both bought Sam’s gift in the very same isle.

    A wrench-kit was jointly purchased for Bobby by all three of them, and then, when Dean wasn’t looking, Castiel used the rest of his tutoring-money to buy Dean a new winter coat, in the same style and color as his well-worn preferred one.

    They made their way through shopping well enough; the hat Cas wore seemed to do its job. They made their way back, and then they went through the hassle of smuggling the gifts inside without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of their present. And so, soon enough, Dean and Cas were wrapping gifts on the bed, back to back.

    “Bobby says that we need to go outside!” Sam called from downstairs. Castiel frowned, putting the last piece of scotch tape on Dean’s gift.

    “Why?” Asked Dean. Sam appeared in the doorway.

    “He says he’s planning something and we need to get the hell out for a few hours.”

    Cas smiled and took down the vlogging camera down from the shelf. “How much longer are we allowed inside, for?”

    Sam shrugged. “He said ‘out. Now.’ and I think he might be serious.”

    Dean sighed and picked up his presents, leading Castiel out the door and to a plywood board. Upon the board, Sam had painted a fir tree, and four large patches of white accompanied it. Sam saw where Cas’s gaze had landed, and tossed his a charcoal pencil.

    “I left that there in case you wanted to draw us. I’m not even close to good enough!”

    Cas nodded and set his present at the base of the board, while Dean stepped forwards to help Sam lift the board out the door.

    Several minutes later saw Sam and Dean washing the impala, Metallica blasting from the speakers and Castiel putting the finishing touches on charcoaled-Bobby. He felt himself drawn into the strokes of the art and, before he knew it, all four figures had been drawn. Sammy was proudly pointing at one of the presents, while the drawn Castiel was in the middle of explaining something; Dean had his arms slung over their shoulders, and Bobby was laughing at their eagerness.

    “Sam!”

    The sophomore stepped forwards, surveying the drawing. “You’re finished.”

    “Yes.”

    A rattling noise came from next to Cas, and he looked over to see that Dean was shaking a clear finish. He sprayed it liberally over the drawings, and they were set to dry as the green-eyed teen began talking. “So, I was thinking about social media and-”

    Dean had hardly gotten the first part of his sentence out, when Cas had withdrawn his surface and was tapping away at the keyboard. They lapsed into silence as the dark-haired teen pulled up Instagram and entered his email.
    “Does this look good?”

    Dean surveyed the entered information and nodded. “Yep.” He popped the ‘P’.

    Castiel thumbed the button and- one loading circle later- it pulled up his new homepage. Dean and Sam cheered, while Castiel checked that the plywood was dry. Noting what their friend was doing, the Winchesters checked themselves, then brought the board back through the screen door. Placing the gifts at the foot of the board, the decorations actually managed to look somewhat decent, and Sam scotch-taped Christmas lights to the painted tree.

    Dean snapped a picture with glee, and showed Castiel how to upload it with the caption: “Happy early Christmas!” One quick video to verify Cas’s username, and then they were bundling into the car with Cas’s guitar in his hand and Bobby at their heels.

    Traffic wasn’t great, but they made their way to the park well enough. More than several goofy extras were filmed in the car (most of them were of a lip-syncing Dean) and by the time they had arrived, the leftover grins were still strong. Castiel withdrew his guitar and sat upon the head of the bench as he tuned it. Dean and Sam set up the camera towards him while he did so. They shot his a double-thumbs up, and he smiled nervously; he had never really performed. What if- NO. He starkly refused to think about what could go wrong. And with that thought, he strummed the first few chords.

“All the right friends in all the right places

So yeah, we're going down

They've got

All the right moves and all the right faces

So yeah, we're going down.”

Castiel continued strumming, barely noticing how the people were already gathering around him.

“Let's paint the picture of the perfect place

They've got it better than when anyone's told ya

They'll be the King of Hearts, and you're the Queen of Spades

Then we'll fight for you like we were your soldiers

“I know we got it good, but they got it made,

And their grass is getting greener each day,

I know things are looking up, but soon they'll take us down,

Before anybody's knowing our name

“They've got...

“All the right friends in all the right places

So yeah, we're going down

They've got

All the right moves and all the right faces

So yeah, we're going down

“They say

Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going

Yeah, we're going down

They say

Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going

Yeah, we're going down

“Do you think I'm special? Do you think I'm nice?

Am I bright enough to shine in your spaces?

Between the noise you hear, and the sounds you like

Are we just sinking in an ocean of faces?

“It can't be possible that rain could fall

Only when it's over our heads.

The sun is shining every day, but it's far away.

Over the world instead.

“They've got, they've got...

“All the right friends in all the right places

So yeah, we're going down

They've got

All the right moves and all the right faces

So yeah, we're going down

“They say

Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going

Yeah, we're going down

They say

Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going

Yeah, we're going down

“It don't matter what you see

I know I could never be

Someone that'll look like you.

It don't matter what you say

I know I could never fake

Someone that could sound like you.

“All the right friends in all the right places

So yeah, we're going down

They've got

All the right moves and all the right faces

So yeah, we're going down

“All the right friends in all the right places

So yeah, we're going down

They've got

All the right moves and all the right faces

So yeah, we're going down

“They say

Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going

Yeah, we're going down

They say

Everybody knows, everybody knows where we're going

Yeah, we're going down

“Yeah, we're going down

    Yeah, we’re going down

“All the right moves... hey

Yeah we're going down

They say...

All the right moves... hey

Yeah we're going down

Castiel let out the last of his breath and glanced up nervously- to tumultuous applause. Dean made a victorious gesture with his fist and Sam’s eyebrows had crept up so high that they were nearing his hairline. Eventually, the gathered crowd migrated away, and Dean held up the video camera with a victorious grin. Clasping his guitar back into its case, Castiel withdrew his surface from his ever-present trenchcoat and immediately hooked up the camera.

With the occasional input from Sam, they had the actual music posted, and the obligatory vlog up not long after. They smiled and made their way to the car, Sam and Dean shouldering each other to the point of escalation that they both staggered several steps away after each impact. It was when Castiel’s lips were twitching in amusement that he heard it.

“Hey, Cassie.”

They froze, turning slowly. Behind them stood a mousy-haired teen, a sheepish smile on his face. His eyes brimmed with tears despite the older brother’s apparent best efforts.

“Gabriel,” Castiel breathed, his eyes wide.

Chapter Text

The group of teens stood in silence for a few moments, Castiel’s eyes fixed on Gabriel and Gabriel’s on Castiel. Cautiously, his hand reaching out as if he was afraid that his older brother would disappear, Cas moved forwards. Gabriel met him halfway, wrapping the dark-haired teen in his arms and burying his face in his hair.

“Nice to see you, Castiel,” murmured Gabriel, his voice thick. Cas’s arms wrapped around him, and the trench-coated teen began to hug for all he was worth.

“You too, Gabe.”

The two brothers stood there for a short while, holding each other close as the chatter common to playgrounds seemed to fade. Finally, together, they released each other, grinning unabashedly. Gabriel rolled his shoulders awkwardly, and slung an arm over Castiel’s shoulder with the casualness that told  person that he had done so many times before. Cas smiled and turned to Dean and Sam, both of whom had frozen awkwardly.

“Gabriel, this is Dean,” he motioned to the green-eyed teen, who nodded, “and Sam. They have been helping me out with my YouTube channel and I’m staying at their place this Winter Break.”

Gabriel cocked his head to the side, as if confused. “YouTube channel? Little bro, you seemed to have neglected to tell me anything about this.”

Castiel shrugged, giving his older brother an embarrassed smile. “It’s a new thing. I have been running it for over a year, but in the past few days, the subscriber count has really increased.”

Gabriel laughed slightly, and reached into Castiel’s left pocket; the older brother knew his sibling well enough to know where the other’s devices were hidden, a feat which Dean had not yet managed (Castiel had more than a fair amount of pockets on his coat). “Let’s see!” announced the Novack, typing in Castiel’s password and tapping the YouTube app.

“WHAT?” the brother promptly dropped the device, and it was only rescued by the same brother’s quick reflexes. “One million, one thousand, and five subscribers?!” read Gabriel, incredulously. This caused more tha a little stir, as the other three members of the small group clamoured for the surface.

“How the hell did that happen?” asked Dean, more than a little shocked. Finally, the youngest member the group got ahold of the device and hunched to the ground, protecting it.

“He’s right!” Sam exclaimed, excited. Cas felt like he was about to faint, and, with Dean’s help, he sank to his knees.

“What?” managed the YouTuber.

“One million, one-”

“Yes!” Dean snapped, crouching next to Castiel. “I think he gets it!”

“There was only…” Castiel floundered for a moment before providing, “twenty-seven thousand subscribers before…”

Gabriel grinned, then pulled out his phone. “Research time!” announced the mousy-haired college student. And so they stood, peering over Gabriel’s shoulder for a good minute. Then, he gave a whoop of joy, and held his phone aloft.

“Found it!” exclaimed Gabriel. Instantly, there was clamor.

“It’s a tweet from some dude named Misha Collins. He has a ton of twitter followers, and he just told them all how much he likes your music. And it looks like a ton of people shared it!” Castiel squinted at the screen, then shook his head disbelief. As if on cue, Castiel’s surface chimed, showing a notification for an email from YouTube. Dean and Castiel shared a glance, and the green-eyed teen tapped the rectangular box.

For a few moments, the loading circle showed. Then, it faded to show his inbox. Sure enough, at the very top, was an email asking for confirmation of a shipping adress. Sam gave a crow of triumph, quickly explaining that they were confirming so that they could ship Castiel his play buttons. Gabriel laughed and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder, while Dean squeezed the hand of a very shocked Cas.

“Dear God,” murmured Castiel. Gabriel laughed beside him.

“Got that right!” laughed the older brother. Sam eventually got tired of their constant exclamation, or at least, he seemed to have, because he grabbed Gabriel’s elbow in one hand, wrapped his other arm around Castiel, and gripped Dean’s elbow with his empty hand, escorting them to the Impala. Castiel recognized the cue, and withdrew his camcorder, starting the recording.

“You,” announced Sam, as he pushed a laughing Gabriel into the backseat, “are coming home with us!”

“I dunno,” joked Gabriel, “I normally prefer to go on a few dates- hey!”

Castiel grinned, holding up the magazine he had whacked his older brother with. Gabriel rolled his eyes, withdrawing a sucker from his inside jacket-pocket and poking his tongue out at Cas before sticking it into his mouth. Dean raised an eyebrow, and Gabriel rolled his eyes once more. Then, much to the delight of the entire car (except for Cas, who was merely amused) he reached back into the sam pocket and tossed a handful of candy into the air. Sam laughed, tossing a few pieces to Dean before throwing a jolly rancher into his mouth.

Finally, Castiel lowered his video camera, and Dean turned the car key. Metallica started blasting through the speakers and at once, Gabriel took the lollipop out of his mouth to sing along. Castiel was nearly bent in two, laughing as he hadn’t in years.

    It was in almost the same position that they pulled into the Winchesters’ parking lot. Bobby’s arms were crossed, although a slight smile was playing across his lips. It faltered as Gabriel climbed out and grinned awkwardly. Immediately, the mechanic turned to his oldest “nephew”.

    “Dean, boy! We ain’t running a refuge house here!”

    Dean chuckled, quickly explaining that they had only brought over Gabriel to visit a bit. When Gabriel mentioned that he was renting an apartment over winter break, Bobby brightened up considerably, announcing that he could stay for dinner and come back for christmas morning. Gabriel accepted both invitations with a grin.

    As Sam motioned Gabriel into the house, the mousy-haired college student stopped suddenly, seeming mortified.

    “Gabe?” asked Sam. Cas smiled at the nickname that Dean’s brother had given his own. “You okay?”

    Finally, Gabe raised a shaking finger, pointing at Sam with an expression of shock. “You,” he said, “are a sophomore, correct?”

    Sam nodded, hesitantly. Gabriel’s finger dropped.

    “So how the Hell are you taller than me?!”

    There was prized silence for a miniscule moment, and then the three uninvolved parties bent over in laughter.

    “I’m serious!” huffed Gabe. When Sam made no move to say a word, he walked inside with nothing more than a mutter of: “Samsquatch.” Dean began to laugh, while Castiel shook his head disbelievingly, he was glad to have his brother back. Not moments later, a cry of “CASTIEL!” came from inside, and, after a shared glance before Dean and Cas, the blue-eyed teen cautiously entered the house. Gabe was pointing at the box set of Harry Potter movies.

    “Without me? Really, Cassie?”

    Castiel smiled sheepishly, and then withdrew his surface. “What’re you doing?” his brother asked.

    “Dean brought up an important point earlier,” said Cas, as he opened the app store, “I should try to be on more social media-”

    No sooner than had he said that, then had Gabriel snatched the surface, immediately searching for Tumblr. “What are you doing?” asked Dean, as Gabriel pressed the download button.

    “You guys,” murmured Gabe, “have found yourself a Tumblr-expert. Just ask Cassie.”

    Dean turned to Castiel with a questioning expression, and Cas sighed, heaving his shoulders in exasperation. “Gabriel has always been into ‘fandoms’-” said Castiel, ignoring Gabriel’s: “You’re using the word wrong!”.

    “-he’s always on this thing called Archive of our Own, and Tumblr,” Castiel finished

    “Hey, you remembered!” exclaimed Gabriel, passing Castiel’s device back to him so that the teen could fill in the information. “But fandoms are a lot more than that, and I’ll thank you to remember that!” sniffed the mousy-haired college student.

    Castiel rolled his eyes and handed his surface back to his brother. Gabriel hummed approvingly, and tapped at the screen a few times. “What do you want your URL to be?”

    “URL?”
    “Username,” confirmed Gabriel.

    “Oh. Probably just Castiel Novak.”

    Gabe shot him a look. “They’re normally a lot more witty than that.”

    Castiel rolled his eyes. “C. Novak.”

    Gabriel sighed theatrically. “I can work with that, I guess,” A few more taps, “C…” muttered Castiel’s brother, his finger hovering over the keyboard as he searched for the next character, “dash… Novak… good!”

    Gabriel pressed a few more buttons, then handed it to Cas. “Take a photo!” he grinned. Castiel rolled his eyes, smiling fondly as he turned on the correct camera function, holding it so that Gabe, Dean, Sam, and himself were all in the frame. “Smile, amigos!” announced Gabe, grinning widely. They laughed, and Castiel snapped the photo, handing it to Gabe.

    “What are you doing?” asked Dean, as Gabriel downloaded another app. Castiel answered in his older brother’s stead as Sam left the room.

    “Gabriel studies photography and film-directing at his school. I’m entrusting this to him and hoping that he doesn’t ruin it!”

    “Oh ye of little faith!” gasped Gabe dramatically, holding his hand to his heart as if mortally wounded.

    “Acting, too,” supplied Castiel, answering Dean’s raised brow. Gabe grinned and passed the surface back to Castiel, who glanced over the photo with an approving nod.

    “Thank you, Gabriel.”

    “You are ever so welcome, Castiel,” replied Gabe, getting up and bowing deeply to his brother. Clearly, he was still in the acting-mood. Castiel smiled, tossed a pillow at Gabriel, and posted the photo. Dean opened the video-editing app and showed Castiel how to add the text and logos to show his usernames. Sam came tromping back down the stairs, grinning at Castiel.

    “Dean,” said the youngest Winchester, “I apologize for practically vandalizing your room, but I think you might want to take a look.”

    The group shared a curious look, then practically raced each other up the stairs. Dean got there first, and pumped his fist into the air, releasing a loud cheer.

In the alcove previously almost completely obscured by dirty laundry was a pvc-pipe floor-to-ceiling frame. Inside was stretched a green sheet, completely obscuring the wall behind it. The left wall of the alcove, which kept going to form the first part of the left wall of Dean’s bedroom, was cleaned up to the point where the alcove ended and the wall kept going on like normal. This part of the alcove had no green-screen background, rather, in the corner where that side of the alcove ended was tall corner-table. Next to it stood a chair much in the style of a barstool; it was perfect for playing guitar on. On the floor, in front of the non-green-screened wall, was a large array of posters. Sam noticed the direction of Castiel’s vision, and hastened to explain.

“Dean and I keep getting posters for special occasions and holidays, and well, my room is a lot like his,” Sam motioned around Dean’s room. It was plastered in posters, from the floor-trim, to the ceiling. Castiel nodded in understanding, while an impressed whistle escaped Gabriel.

“Dude!” the college student said. “This is fricken’ awesome!”

Castiel voiced his agreement and, after getting a nod from Dean, stepped forwards and sifted through the posters. Without a word, Dean stepped forwards to help Castiel, occasionally picking out a certain poster or mentioning a certain subject. Finally, with a Harry Potter, OneRepublic, Metallica, Green Day, Asia, and Led Zeppelin (all in a black and white color scheme) covering his wall, they stepped back with a grin, their hands on their hips. Castiel heard the clicking sound from Gabriel’s phone, announcing that he had taken a photo. A few moments later, Castiel’s surface chimed, and he posted it to his Instagram not long later.

Dean grinned. “That was-”

DING!

Castiel nearly dropped out his tablet.

DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING- Cas’s tablet kept ringing. Gabriel swore and stepped forwards, opening the settings and turning off “Post Notifications”. The room was abnormally silent for a few moments. A low chime announced that Sam had lowered his recording cell-phone. Dean was still too shocked to chide his grinning younger brother.

“... Thank you,” said Castiel, faintly, “but what was that?!”

Gabriel laughed and opened the picture (it was artfully taken, Castiel had to admit), reloading the picture repeatedly to show the rocketing number of likes and comments. The comments seemed to spawn underneath the picture so rapidly that it seemed that it would be impossible to answer them all. Castiel sighed and took his device back, opening up the “edit” function and adding, in parentheses, “Yes, this is my official account. I will adress it in my next vlog, should you wish for further verification.”

“There,” The blue-eyed teen said with satisfaction, “that should adress a majority of the comments.”

Dean and Cas finally looked back to Gabriel, who had been suspiciously silent throughout the entire exchange. Both he and Sam were bent nearly double in silent laughter, their vision fixated on the video replaying the Sam’s hands. They stopped momentarily, and a hime announced that they had sent the video to Castiel, and then they resumed.

“I doubt it was even funny,” huffed Dean, going a bright red as he opened the media attachment. It opened to show the two of them.

“That was-” Dean began. Then a loud ‘DING’ came from the device in Castiel’s hands. Their gazes shot down, and they eyed the device with apprehension. ‘DING!’ it did it again, and Cas’s hands jerked as he nearly dropped it. The noise kept coming, and the the two teens eyed with with fear as Castiel held it at arm’s reach. Eventually, Gabriel rushed over, and set it straight, then leaving the scene of two shell-shocked teens. Then the video cut off.

“Okay,” a smile twitched to Dean’s face. “maybe that was funnier than I thought.”

Castiel nodded, stifling his laughter. “Albeit… why is it even funny??! It’s not supposed to be funny!”

And that set the room off in laughter; in Gabriel and Sam’s case, again.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before Sam recruited Gabriel and they wandered into the kitchen to cook dinner. A loud groan escaped Castiel, and he explained that his brother could burn water if he set his mind to it.

    “Is he really that bad?” asked Dean, shooting a nervous glance towards the kitchen door. Castiel nodded sheepishly. Luckily, upon glancing in, they saw that Gabriel was doing nothing more than shredding cheese. An audible sigh escaped them both, and relieved glances were resulted.

    “I saw that!” Gabriel called, trying to sound angry but sounding amused nonetheless. Sam snorted in amusement, dumping lasagna noodles into a prepared pot of boiling water. Multiple loud plops sounded, and the sophomore glanced into the pot, stirring the roiling water with a wooden spoon and gazing critically at the yellow strips.

    “It looks like Sam has everything under control,” Castiel decided, grasping Dean’s elbow and leading him up to the stairs and to the green-eyed teen’s bedroom. With a determined air, Cas sat himself on his friend’s bed. “Now,” he demanded, much to Dean’s amusement, “you culture me!”

    The dirty-blond teen laughed, asking, “In what? You seem to have the musical part under control well enough.”

    Castiel raised a single eyebrow. “As you have said, Harry Potter is an essential part of a person’s life. And yet, I have only recently learnt of it. Surely, there are other classical stories I should know of?”

    Dean gazed at Cas, a bit of worry in his gaze. “You do realize, Cas,” he began, “people aren’t gonna be mad if you can’t understand their references?”

    Castiel flushed underneath his friends eyes, but nodded. “That’s probably true,” he admitted, “however, as I enjoyed Harry Potter well enough, maybe it would be in order for a bit more culturing, even if only for enjoyment?”

Dean relaxed and nodded, slipping off the mattress and circling the bed to his bookshelf. With a hum of amusement, he withdrew a book. On the front cover, a sprawling picture of space was printed, a mist-shrouded planet (which was undoubtedly Earth) in the lower left corner. “Ever read ‘ Ender’s Game ’, Cas?” asked Dean. Castiel shook his head, pulling the covers over his legs and titling his head in bemusement. Dean laughed in surprise.

“Oh,” he said, a grin spreading over his lips, “this is gonna be fun!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    A while later, the teens were called down to dinner by a merry Bobby Singer, who took great pleasure in regaling Dean’s pancake-to-the-face incident over steaming lasagna. Gabriel chuckled at the story, and swapped tales for his own experiences in college. His re-telling of how his dorm and stolen back their school mascot from Heavenly Blade University was enjoyed the most.

    “So, first off,” Gabriel grinned, “Chuck- our RA- had told us that our mascot was snatched the night before. Well, naturally, I didn’t like that, and my dorm mate, Balthazar, and his girlfriend, Jo, didn’t either. Jo’s mom, Ellen, never grew up, and two days later, she showed up in the dead of night with a van loaded with paintball guns, silly-string, toilet-paper, and walkie-talkies.”

    Bobby chuckled. “Oh, this had to be good.”

    “It was,” said Gabe, with a shark-like grin.

    “Anyways, we recruited a I.T. major called Garth, Ellen’s friend and sheriff (who was willing to turn a blind eye), Jody Mills, Gwen Campbell, an actor, Ash- who’s probably my best friend, and, much to his chagrin,” Gabriel’s eyes sparkled with humor, “Chuck; our good, kind-hearted, and considerate RA.”

    Several laughs escaped the Winchester brothers and Castiel, while Bobby leaned forwards on his elbows, completely engrossed.

    “Apparently, Ellen had named the van The Bunker, and so we all crammed into the back of there, setting up the walkie-talkies and convincing Chuck not to call the police. Jody Mills organized us- she seemed like she was a kid herself, at the time- and so we were put into three groups. She called us teams Freewill, Chitaqua, and Cain. I was on Chitaqua with Gwen, Ellen, and Chuck, and it turns out that there were fireworks in The Bunker, too!

    “Team Cain went and set them off in the south courtyard, so everyone went there while Team Chitaqua snuck into the northern one. Unfortunately, some stupid kids had gotten lost when they were looking for us and they ran right into the operation. We had to hold them off with the paintball guns. Team Cain- thank God- was returning so they led them off by hot-wiring one of the football player’s motorcycles. Believe it or not, it was Jody- the sheriff- who did that! Still, we had made enough noise that more kids ran over; we were in the middle of a TP-ing operation just then. Team Freewill came over in The Bunker, and we jumped on, still firing paint at our opposition.”

Castiel snorted in amusement. With the grave tone his brother was using, it sounded as if Gabriel had been a part of a grievous battle. Gabe shot a Cas a lopsided smile, then continued.

“Just them, we found out that Ash had hijacked the engineering’s department drone, and he was using it to rain toilet-paper, silly-string, and paint from popped paintballs ALL over the school. Team Cain drove back over, Balthazar and Garth running behind a cackling Jody Mills as the she ran directly into the mascot, lifting it onto the bike and still riding. She drove up behind The Bunker and ditched the bike, Team Cain jumping into the back.

“We restored the mascot easily enough, and snuck back into the dorm-hall just as the sun came up. The headmaster came over, asking if we knew anything about the mysteriously-returned mascot, and apparently, that was too much poor Chuck; he fainted then and there.”

Gabriel ended his story with a wide-grin, and was greeted by multiple loud laughs. Bobby shook his head ruefully.

“Next time you decide to try something like that,” declared the mechanic, “ask me. I got an old friend called Rufus who’d be up for it!”

    “Is he a non-law-abiding sheriff?” asked Gabe, with a smirk. Bobby shook his head and practically cackled in laughter.

    “Even better! He’s non-law-abiding FBI!!!!”

    Gabriel gaped momentarily, then chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I am definitely contacting him, next time!” The college student declared with a grin. Bobby nodded, and began to ferry his dishes into the kitchen. Castiel followed, bringing the rest of the lasagna, and Sam came after him. At long last, Dean finished wolfing down the remainder of his lasagna, and he and Gabe rinsed their dishes in the sink. With a wink to Castiel, Bobby withdrew what looked to be an apple-pie from the fridge, motioning for silence and pointing at Dean.

“Dean obsesses over pie,” Sam whispered, smoothing Castiel’s confused expression. The YouTuber nodded in understanding, and dutifully bore the whipped cream canister that Bobby had snuck him into the living room. It turned out that the male had put much thought into the desert, and five plates were stacked on the coffee table. Forks and napkins were piled next to it, and Bobby poured a bit of lighter fluid over an un-charcoaled log in the fireplace, lighting a newspaper page and tossing it in with a grunt of satisfaction.

Bobby unveiled the pie and, as if the crinkling of the saran wrap had alerted him, Dean rushed into the room, his eyes gleaming. In the corner, Sam laughed and held aloft his phone, capturing his brother’s craze. Cas smiled and accepted a plate of the treat, liberally applying whipped cream to the slice. In the meantime, Gabriel had emptied yet another candy-filled pocket- directly onto his pie!

The film student was unwrapping tootsie-rolls and chocolates, sticking them underneath the apples and into the crust.

“Gabe!” Sam protested, upon catching sight of the action. “That pie is sugary enough as it is!”

“Nope!” laughed the Novak brother, plopping himself onto the couch after sticking cherry jolly-rancher directly on top. “There’s no such thing as enough sugar!”

Castiel caught the pleading glance sent towards him and shook his head immediately. “There is no convincing Gabe of anything otherwise,” he said solemnly, much to Dean’s amusement. Bobby placed a no-doubt-typical Christmas CD into the television, picking up the remote to click past the trailers and previews that preceded the movie. In the meantime, Gabriel helped put the finishing touches on the vlog, before Sam pressed the “post” button.

Finally, as the studio logo/animation began playing, he sat, directly in between Dean and Cas (both of whom tried not to voice their disapproval).

When the mechanic caught sight of their frowns, he grinned and clapped them on their shoulders.

“Don’t be like that!” he insisted. “Just ‘cuz you can’t make eyes at each other, that doesn’t mean you need to cry.”

Both stared at him as if he was an alien (and if there was a hint of dawning in Dean and Cas’s expressions, well…)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Cas woke with his arm stretched across Dean’s chest, his mouth open and drool dribbling slightly from the corner. He lay in silence for a few moments, processing. Today was Christmas!!! Outside, Castiel heard a car idle, then stop.

    He shot out of Dean’s bed, rushing to the window just in time to see Gabriel paying the cabby and sauntering up to the front door. The college student lifted the edge of the doormat and withdrew the pre-placed key, opening the door and disappearing.

    Inside, Castiel could hear feet tromping up the stairs. Then, Dean’s door opened to reveal a grinning Novack.

    “Bonjour!” said Gabriel, his voice hushed a little in the hopes of not waking Dean. Castiel grinned.

    “Good morning, Gabriel.”

    “Yada, yada- hey!” Castiel’s brother’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “I can’t help but notice how there’s only one mattress in here.”

    Castiel began to flush.

    “You didn’t-”

    “NO!” Castiel said, a bit loudly. “No,” he repeated a bit more subdued. He almost added that he didn’t like Dean like that, before he stopped; an hour of laying awake and in thought have caused him to think otherwise.

    “You wanted to, though.”

    “Not true,” Castiel actually wasn’t lying; he had been too shocked at the time to think about such things.

    “You wanted to kiss him.”

    “Really, Gabriel?!”

    “You don’t deny it!” Gabe said gleefully. Immediately, and whipped out his phone to open twitter; after posting the vlog where he had been more than a little mentioned, the number of followers he had shot up. Cas watched, amused and slightly annoyed, over his brother’s shoulder as he inserted a picture from yesterday: it showed Dean and Cas laughing at the camera.

    “New… operation,” Gabriel muttered as he typed, “Destiel…. Enter… we all… need it! I think… Castiel… is gonna… kill me for… this tweet.”

    Gabriel finished triumphantly, holding away from a laughing Castiel’s hands as he pressed the “tweet” button. Castiel allowed a highly exaggerated groan, and turned on his heel to wake up Dean.

    The blond boy groaned and rolled over, almost crushing Cas’s hand. “Christmas!” Castiel hissed. Dean stirred slightly, but his eyes didn’t open. “Pie!” Dean shot out of bed.

    “Where?” The half-asleep male demanded.