Back in Blackberry

Chapter one

Rain was coming down in thick sheets outside the bakery, making Dean glad he lived just upstairs. He cut himself off a piece of pie and made some hot chocolate as his last customer of the day dashed outside to their car. His little brother had teased him relentlessly about his job, but as tough and macho as Dean was, he still enjoyed baking. He flipped the sign to closed - not that anyone else was going to pop in for a quick Danish in this storm - and sat at one of the tables by the front, watching the rain come down outside his window. He couldn't even see the buildings across the street. He hoped this wouldn't turn into a flood, but he wouldn't be surprised if it did. He started eating his pie, grunting with enjoyment and pride at his first bite. This was one of the best pies he'd ever made. He started humming AC/DC and tapping his foot against the floor, starting to relax after his day, when he saw something move outside. He put down his fork and leaned closer to the glass to get a better look. At first he thought it was a dog, but as it got closer, he saw that there was a man stumbling down the street. He was filthy, and he looked horribly thin. Dean stood up, wondering if he should go out and help, when the man fell. He tried to get up, but it looked like he didn't have the strength. He fell again. Dean rushed to the door and ran outside to the man. He picked him up, grunting at the weight. He carried the man inside, getting drenched. The man made a weak noise of shock and protest and pushed against Dean's chest with a scraped and bleeding hand.

"It's okay, I'm going to help," Dean said, trying to calm the man down. He carried the man upstairs to his apartment and laid him on his bed. The man rolled onto his side, away from Dean, and curled into a ball.

"Are you okay? You look horrible, what can I do?" Dean asked. The man didn't answer.

"Okay. Well, the bathroom is at the end of the hall. I'm going to go grab some food, and you can sleep here tonight," Dean said. He went to his kitchen and searched the fridge. He didn't have a lot of food. He'd been planning to make a supply run the next day, but he did have a few things. He grabbed a blueberry muffin and made two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He filled a glass with water and took it and the plate into his room. He set them on the bedside table and went back out to the living room. He only had one bedroom, but whoever this guy was, he needed a real bed a lot more than Dean did. Dean shut off the lights, locked the doors, and grabbed a blanket from the closet and a towel from the bathroom. He did his best to dry himself off, then he settled down on the couch to sleep.

***

He woke up early the next morning, and before he opened his eyes, he thought he was in his bed, but then he opened his eyes and remembered. He stood up, stretching, and walked to his room. He glanced in the door to see the man, still curled up on the bed. The sandwich and muffin were gone, but the man was still covered in dirt. Looking at him in the light, Dean could see that he had scruffy black hair and wore a tattered and dirty suit. Dean knocked gently on the open door. The man jerked up and looked around.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to check and see if you were okay," Dean said. The man stood up shakily and tried to take a step forward, but he stumbled. Dean rushed forward and caught him. The man seemed taken by surprise by this.

"Here, you should probably shower. I'll help you to the bathroom," Dean said. The man nodded and Dean helped him to the bathroom, at which point he let go.

"There. Do you need anything else?" Dean asked.

"I..." The man spoke for the first time with a deep and gravelly voice. "I'm blind," the man admitted. He sounded ashamed.

"Oh. Well, I could... Help you. You know, if you want," Dean offered, blushing slightly. The man slowly lowered himself onto the tiled floor of Dean's bathroom.

"I'm just so tired..." He said. Dean stood awkwardly, watching him, unsure what to say, until he spoke again.

"I would very much appreciate your assistance. If you could turn on the shower for me, and.... Um.... Show me where it is..." He mumbled the last part. Dean was confused by the man's shame. He supposed being blind wasn't something people were proud of, but he never expected someone to act like it was something they had to hide. The man seemed legitimately afraid of what Dean might think of his blindness.

"Of course." Dean turned on the shower and explained the room in as much detail as he could. The man thanked him.

"You're welcome. Now, I'll grab you some clothes to change into, and then I'm going to go make some breakfast. If I have any food, that is," Dean said, and after he put some of his clothes in the bathroom for the man, he turned and walked back to his kitchen. He didn't have a lot, so he ended up making more PB&Js. After a few minutes, he heard the shower turn off and some thumping. A second later, the man emerged from the bathroom. Dean rushed over to help him, noticing that instead of the clothes Dean had provided, the man had put his suit back on. He also noticed the man's shockingly blue eyes, which never seemed to focus on anything, but still looked like they saw everything. Dean helped him to the small table in his kitchen and sat him down.

"I-I should probably go... I've p-probably already stayed to long..." The man said.

"Well screw that! You're staying here until I'm confident you can last on your own, buddy. You look close to death!" Dean exclaimed. The man seemed to shrink in on himself and Dean regretted speaking so loudly.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be harsh, but I can't just let you walk out. I mean, you're blind," Dean said, softer. The man flinched at the word "blind". Dean took a step forward.

"Do you mind if I take a look at you? Your hands were bleeding last night, I want to make sure nothing's infected," Dean told him. The man nodded and Dean kneeled in front of him, taking his hands and examining his palms.

"Okay, your hands aren't so bad. I'll be right back, I'm just going to get some bandages," Dean said. He grabbed his first-aid box from his bathroom and came back out. He knelt in front of the man again and took one of his hands. The man twitched, but didn't say anything. Dean carefully wrapped the man's hands, one after the other. When he was done, he sat in another chair at the table.

"I have more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Do you want one?" Dean asked. The man nodded, so Dean put one on a plate and set it in front of him. The man reached out, but missed the plate with his hand. He blushed, clearly embarrassed, but Dean just took his hand gently and placed in on the sandwich. The man gave a tiny nod of thanks.

"I'm Dean Winchester, by the way," Dean said after taking a bite of sandwich, "what's your name?" The man was silent for a moment.

"Castiel."