Helpless | Destiel college a.u.

2

– Dean –

"You're such a wuss," Sam told me as we walked to his car.

"I just don't want it to be awkward between me and him," I defended.

"It won't be if you just talk to him." he laughed at my paranoia. "Just ask about his family or what classes he's taking."

"You're right," I sighed quietly. "I'm gonna miss having you around."

"You'll see me enough." He smiled at me. "It's not that far of a drive back home. Bobby said you're welcome any time."

"Right. Bye, Sammy." I pulled him down to my height as I hugged him.

"I'm a senior in high school, I'm not 'Sammy' anymore," he groaned.

"You'll always be Sammy," I laughed, turning around to walk back to my dorm.

When I reached the door, I took a deep breath before opening it. Castiel was putting sheets onto his bed while nodding along to some new age punk/pop sounding music that I hadn't heard before.

"Am I interrupting?" I asked over the music, causing him to jump slightly.

"Sorry." He walked over to turn it down. "I always listen to music when I'm cleaning or organising things."

"It's a good distraction." I nodded in agreement, opening one of my boxes.

"Do you like Panic! At The Disco?"

"Never heard them." I shrugged, pulling out the clean bedsheets I had packed.

"Okay, we're listening to all of their music right now." He clicked something on his computer that I couldn't see from the angle I was at.

A different song started playing and I continued unpacking and organising my stuff as I did.

"So," I spoke up after a while. "What are you majoring in?"

"Writing," he answered. "I've always loved creative writing. What about you?"

"Mechanical Engineering," I told him, starting to pull out my clothes from my bags. "My dad was an auto mechanic and I guess I picked up his love for cars."

"I don't know anything about the insides of cars." Castiel laughed, pulling out some things which he set on his desk.

"I've taken seven years' worth of classes about them so far. My high school had Auto and Engineering classes."

"I took Creative Writing and Journalism in high school."

"I bet you're really good, then." I folded some of my clothes to place them in the small dresser opposite the wall with the desks.

"Well I've had practice." He shrugged.

We listened to just about every song by Panic! At The Disco and Castiel sang along quietly with most of them as we both put away our stuff. I finished before him and stacked my boxes by the door, then shoved the two bags into the bottom drawer of my dresser.

"You're done already?" He turned to look at me from his spot on the floor in front of his dresser. There were clothes surrounding him and he still had two boxes that hadn't been touched.

"Yeah, I didn't have that much stuff." I shrugged and sat down on my bed.

"Oh," he nodded. "Do you want me to turn off my music?"

"No, it's fine." I shook my head, pulling out my phone to text Sammy.

"Okay." Castiel went back to folding his clothes as I laid back on my bed.

The mattress wasn't very comfortable, but I could sleep on it for the year. I was ready to be done with school already and work at Bobby's car shop for a while.

When I was four, my mom died in a house fire. My dad wasn't financially stable on his own and our house was no longer in any condition for living in so we got in his car and drove for what felt like hours even in my faded memory of the experience.

I remember being tired and hungry and bored in the backseat with a sleeping Sammy next to me in his carseat until we reached a small, run-down motel to stay in for the night.

After that, we drove around the country, my dad looking for small jobs anywhere he could. Most days, he would leave me and Sam in a motel room by ourselves while he went off to do his day-long job.

After two years of this we found ourselves in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. My dad got a job at a place called Singer Auto Salvage, owned by a man named Bobby Singer. Bobby found out about my dad's struggle and took him in, letting us live in his house with him instead of our usual crappy motel rooms.

One morning, I woke up to the sound of the two men shouting in the kitchen. I tiptoed out of my room and to the doorway, listening to their conversation.

"I can't take care of two boys on my own, Bobby." My dad's voice rang in my ears.

"And what, you think I can? This is why I let you stay here. So you could have help raising them." Bobby spat back.

"I'm asking you to help me now." Dad's voice had gotten quieter. "Just for a few days. I need to go find another job."

"You're lucky I'm taking pity on you." He had sighed and turned to leave the room.

My dad started leaving for weeks at a time, forcing Bobby to have to take care of me and Sam while he was gone.

At first he seemed annoyed by Dad's absence, until one day, a year later, I saw my dad sitting in his room with his head hanging in shame. I had walked up to him and placed my small hand on his shoulder.

"Dad, why are you sad?" I had asked in my seven-year-old voice.

"I have to leave, Dean," he spoke without looking up. "I can't stay here anymore."

"Why?" I was confused. He held up a paper that was in his hands and the only words I understood on it were "Sam and Dean Winchester".

"You'll understand someday. Just know that I... I love you, buddy."

I had watched my father pack his things and leave the house, feeling less internal pain than I should have as a child seeing his only surviving parent walking out on him. The only thing he left behind was his car with the instructions for Bobby to give it to me once I could drive. After that day, I always referred to Bobby as my dad since he treated me better than my own.

Now here I was in college, the old Impala just outside in the parking lot. All of Dad's CD's were still in it, too.

"I am officially moved in," Castiel announced, causing me to look up from my phone. "And I'm starving."

"Me too," I agreed, noticing my empty stomach.

"Do you want to go grab something to eat?" He stuffed his phone and wallet into his pocket. "I don't know if you've been there before but there's a diner down the street that I ate at for at least half of my meals last year. It's within walking distance."

"Sure." I nodded and stood up to follow him out the door.

We walked outside together, passing a handful of rooms with their doors open and people walking in and out of them.

school sucks, save me