Dean and Castiel Winchester

Chapter 3 Story 1

Cas' POV
Lucifer was peeping round the corner at the end of the corridor. He was smirking like mad. I shook off his smirk and went to the first door on the right. The door was dark green and the paint was chipping off but I liked it that way. It reminds me of my mum and how much fun we had painting the door. I couldn't help but smile. The 5 year old me already covered in paint dipping my whole hand in the paint tin and attacking my mum with it. Her laugh was just amazing. But that was a long time ago. I turned to see Dean only a foot away from me, smiling, the left side of his smile higher than the right his green eyes brighter in the dim light.  I get butterflies in my stomach and smiled back as less awkward as I can, but it probably came out in the biggest cheesiest smile ever. Not the best thing to do in front of a really hot guy who you may or may not have had a crush on before.  I opened the door still smiling at Dean and I'm not gonna lie I nearly fell through the door, but I picked myself up nicely. Well in my view I did.
I walked into my room and let Dean walk in before shutting the door. "Just place it on the bed." I shut the door and turn around to Dean being at the side of my bed sat staring at the TV with the box next to him. I am just about to crawl into the bed when I realize that the pillow with my foundation wiped all over it was face up (quite literally) and just behind Dean. I grabbed it, got onto my bed and crawled round Dean and the box and sat cradling the pillow. We sit there for a couple of seconds and Dean is still staring at the TV. But Dean wasn't focusing on the TV he was focusing on the painting on the wall just slightly covered up by the TV. I had done it only a couple of months ago and I hadn't got enough space in my art folder so I put it up on the wall. It was of a wolf with green eyes standing on basically a pile of snow. But the northern lights were dancing around it and a larger wolf appeared to be next to it. It wasn't one of the best ones I had done. I had a black eye when I did it and couldn't see properly but Dean was mesmerized by the painting. "You can have it if you want?" This seemed to snap Dean out of daydream. He looked at me as if he was trying to hold back tears. He managed to mutter "Really?" He generally seemed surprised I was being nice to him which upset me. I got the painting off the wall and gave it to him. He put his head down. And ever so slightly I heard him sniffle and swallow his tears. I didn't want to be nosey but I had to know why my painting affected him that much. "Dean .... Why did.... Why are. Hmmm." Dean cut me off his head still facing the floor. "My mum, she .." He choked up. He just shook his head. Took a deep breath and carried on,"She died in a house fire when I was 6. My dad he drove himself to insanity. Me and Sammy were always dragged up and down the states doing hunting trips with our dad. But for a while it got better, we stopped with a hunting friend of dad's. He was gone for about a year. He just turned up outta the blue one day. Completely drunk. He..." Dean's voice faulted for a second. He took a deep breath and carried on. "He took me and Sammy back, he got settled down in one house. It's not that far from here. But he still go on his hunting trips. He just doesn't take us with him. He just leaves for weeks at a time. Then will come back whenever he's done..." Dean's voice broke, not in a high pitch squeaky way, the pain and loss and sadness was just pouring out. He was tense,extremely tense. Like he was holding back to punch something/someone tense.
I nodded I didn't really know what to say. I mean I'd been through the same thing pretty much but it's a difficult subject. I just sat there trying to work out what to do. It was a couple of seconds before Dean started talking, this time fear wasn't pouring out like it was when he was talking about his dad. This time it was filled with sorrow, loss, happiness. Well happiness in the sense of happy memories."The painting, it kinda reminds me of when I feel my mothers presence. Just on little things like certain songs or certain things she used to say."
He finally looked up at me his eyes bloodshot and puffy from holding back tears. I had no idea what to do. I didn't want to hug him and I knew he wasn't gay so I couldn't make him happy by kissing him. 
But I did know how it felt to loose both parents. I got up and walked to the draw with the picture in. I picked it up and turned round to give it to Dean. He looked up at me. "It's okay to cry Dean, I promise I will not tell anyone." He let one tear role down his face then the next and the next. I kneeled down on the floor in front of him. I wiped one of the tears from his chin. He grabbed my shirt and buried his head into my shoulder. I was shocked more than anything. I'd never seen Dean cry, not even close to crying. But now he was in my room crying on my shoulder and I had no action plan. I was simply going with what felt right.
I wrapped my arms around him gently. Then I started to tell my story. "I lost my mother when I was 5. She died from a heart condition, no one even knew she had it. Not even her. My dad was hit the worse he started to drink, when he came home he would accuse us all of sinning. Religion became his main focus.  Michael was 15 and well he got the worse of the abuse. Lucifer was next in line, Luci was only 12. Gabriel didn't really get much abuse. Maybe he swung for Gabe the occasional time but hardly ever. But I have my mothers eyes, that set Dad off and well as much as Michael and Lucifer wanted to protect me..." My voice broke.
"Michael could have left but he stayed, he cooked us food, got makeup to cover our bruises and helped us. Dad went round the bend about 8 years ago. I was about 9 and I had a project I had to do. So I went to this girls house and I got home late. My dad was waiting. He sat at the dining room table with a glass of whiskey in his hands. He questioned me where I had gone. I told him that I had gone to do school work at this girls house. He got angry and he threw the glass at me. I ran upstairs and he charged after me. Lucifer was at the top and tucked me behind him. My father started shouting lines from the bible and well, he just charged through Lucifer and came straight at me. I hid under Lucifer's bed. The next morning, my father was being taken away. To get help. Lucifer was shaking and Michael was emotionless. We moved to here. Away from Illinois. We've all stopped together although we could all move we don't. Michael, Luci and Gabe work at the cafe down by the garage. " Dean had stopped crying. Something cold ran down my cheek. I realize it was now my tear. I quickly wiped it away. "It's okay to cry Cas." Dean whispered to me. He untangled himself from me. I slowly stood up and offered a hand down to him.
He took it and he sat back down on the side of the bed. He wiped his eyes and cheeks. He then opened the box. He laughed a little. The box was filled with books and paper, pens, pencils and paints in one side, in the other it was filled with chips and cookies and little bits like that.
"What Crowley did was a dick move. I wasn't going to stand it any longer. You are a nice guy Castiel. You didn't deserve that. So I went to all our classes and asked if I could get our work for the rest of the week. Crowley is still gonna be at school unfortunately but he is going to be under the teachers radar. Now we, we are going to take a little road trip. Get a backpack ready. We are going in an hour. Does that give you enough time?"
Dean was smiling once again. His red puffy eyes made the green in them pop. But he looked so proud of himself. I just nodded. I grabbed a rucksack out off the wardrobe and chucked skinny jeans, some swimming trunks, and a couple of t-shirts in. The whole time Dean sat on my bed. I grabbed my phone and charger, the foundation and a few other essentials.
I looked at him trying not to bounce off the walls, "Do I need anything else?" He racked his brain for a second, "Yeah. Look give me the rucksack and grab your bed set. I haven't brought anything to get settled in at night." So I passed him my black rucksack. He swung it on his back. He grabbed the box and went off down stairs. I stuffed my wallet in my pocket grabbed both pillows and the duvet and while struggling made my way down the stairs and threw the door.
I wrote on the notepad on the kitchen table 'gone on a road trip. Be back before Monday.' Made my way to the impala and jumped in the passenger side. I was going on my first road trip, with who? With Dean Winchester.