Really Cliché Destiel Highschool

Okay... Soooooo... This is an Udate I Think

***Author's Note***

Okay so I've read your comments and I guess I'm gonna have a little bit of both...

Thanks again my beautiful little children!

Dean's POV

"I'm fine, Dean," Castiel's low and gravelly voice sounded scared and unsure, as if trying to reassure himself rather than me.

"Bullshit, Cas," I sighed. His defined cheekbones were bruised and his chapped upper lip cut. Surprisingly more noticeable were the dark bags hanging under his tired sapphire eyes. His eyes, however stunning, were dazed and unfocused, and Castiel swayed where he stood. Sleep deprivation.

"When was the last time you actually slept?" I asked carefully, and he looked startled for a second before slumping against the Impala. I belatedly realized we had been walking back towards the sleek black car.

"I appreciate your concern, Dean," Castiel yawned, "but I should really be going now." Something of disappointment flashed across his injured face, and he got up surprisingly quickly for one so obviously exhausted.

"Wait, Cas-" I started, and he turned, looking up at me with wide and timid eyes. I smiled reassuringly, "take care of yourself," I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a Sharpie I had borrowed from Charlie.

Before Castiel could move away, I grabbed his hand and he gave a panicked tug before letting it drop again. I scrawled my phone number quickly on his upturned palm. Castiel had long, nimble fingers and neatly trimmed nails.

"This is my number. If you ever need anything, call me. I'll be there in a heartbeat." I gave Castiel a rare, true, and genuine smile.

Castiel's large eyes glossed over, and before he could turn and move away again, I pulled him into a tight hug. He stiffened and gasped softly, but didn't move. He eventually relaxed, then suddenly he threw his thin arms around me, and reciprocated the comforting embrace. I buried my nose into his hair. He smelled like books and tea. I huffed a laugh. Understandable.

"Thank you," he whispered.

•••

Castiel POV

An eternity passed in Dean's strong, warm, assuring arms. He didn't pull away, so neither did I. Instead, I surrounded myself in the smell of old leather and aftershave, and something distinctly Dean. A single, unwarranted tear slid down my cheek, and onto Dean's chest. He whispered soothingly in my ear.

"It's okay, Cas," he mumbled, "I'm here,"

"I'm not gonna leave you,"

You don't deserve someone like Dean. He is beautiful, strong, loving, and kind. You are filthy, impure, and broken. You are worthless.

These thoughts, narrated by that familiarly disappointed voice sneered at me through the veil of memories.

They were right.

Something clawed at the inside of my chest, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. I gasped, panicky fear clutching my insides. My fists clenched, my vision darkened, the air left my lungs. The darkness was closing in. Fast. Too fast. I recoiled from Dean as if I had been slapped.

Hurt and concern flashed across his face

"Cas...?" I wasn't listening.

Hurt.

I had hurt Dean.

Tears streamed freely down my blotchy cheekbones. And Dean reached forward tentatively. I needed to move, distance myself, stop hurting Dean, but my feet weren't responding. I breathed quickly, rapidly.

I squeezed my eyes shut, stemming the tears, white shapes dancing along my closed eyelids. And suddenly, Dean was there. He held me close as I sobbed dryly against his shoulder. I was too exhausted to move. He used his thumb to brush my tears away.

"Shhhh," he comforted, "Cas, it's okay, I'm right here,"

"Cas?"

"Cas, look at me,"

"Please?"

"I promise I won't leave you,"

"Cas, open your eyes,"

The plead in his voice betrayed his regular bravado. My eyes listened against my will, opening slowly, only to be met by a forest of emerald green. Dean was still there. He hadn't left.

There was pure fear in his beautiful eyes. He was hurt, his eyes rimmed red, but most of all he was scared.

You hurt him. You worthless fag.

The voice returned.

I regained the feeling in my legs, and did what any person would do. I ran.

And ran.

Not paying attention to where I was going.

Just running.

I tried to run away from the pain, from the hurt, and most of all I had to run away from the guilt. The gnawing at the bottom of my stomach that slowly crept up to my throat, preventing me from breathing. My breaths became short, rapid. I was dizzy. I couldn't run anymore.

So I hid.

•••

***Author's Note*** okay definitely another multi part chapter.

I love you guys so much I never expected this much feed back