Dean didn't tell Sammy, but Dad came home that night before he met Cas about 3 AM. Dean was half asleep, but abruptly awoke when he heard the click of the door unlocking from downstairs. The sudden pressure in his arms elicited a painful hiss from his lips when he sat up. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, the blood in his veins stopped pumping and his brain went numb. Dad was back earlier than he expected.
There was a slam- the front door closing- and some footsteps shuffling through the house. Dean could tell it was Dad by the way he moved around the house, bumping into things and slurring cuss's here and there- He was definitely drunk, as usual.
There were the thumps of footsteps on old, worn out wooden stairs, a soft grunt, and then another door slam. Dean let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, and his shoulders relaxed. He flopped back against the bed, closed his eyes and fell back into a restless sleep.
Dean was more than relieved when he found out Sammy was going over Gabriel's. Dean will be able to wear out Dad enough so when Sam gets home his father will be too exhausted to even bother with Sammy, and not have to get screamed at. He will do whatever it takes so his little brother could have at least this one night of normalcy, without any fighting or hitting; Free from the domestic abuse their lives are so horribly drowned in.
The next morning brought no new changes to Dean's mood. A headache pounded his skull, and his bruises hurt more than usual. Dean dragged himself to the bathroom, and examined his face in the mirror.
In the mirror was a slightly scrawny faced, bruised and bloodied, tired boy staring back at Dean with hollowed eyes. The sight would make anyone cringe.
Carefully, Dean reached to the bottom cabinet below the sink, and pulled out a leather box he kept the makeup in. Dean cleaned the dried blood off his face, and examined the gash on his cheek. This was going to be a pain in the ass to hide.
With slightly trembling fingers, Dean worked his way through the black and blue bruises that would be visible to the naked eye, and with practiced skill, covered his gash frighteningly well. Only if you were to stare deeply at his face would anyone notice anything sort of out of place or odd, and even then, it's nothing people would be too concerned about in the first place.
Dean's day started out like any other shit day. Pulling on his ever so lovable fake smile for all to see, pretending as if nothing is wrong, as if his father doesn't abuse him practically every day of the week, or how itchy his scars are, or this terrible depression weighing down Dean's shoulders like he were carrying a two ton elephant on his back. None of this matters as long as he can hide it.
None of it matters.
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Dean leaned against the hood of Baby, waiting a little anxiously for Sam and his new friend to meet him outside of the school. But it wasn't so much them he was nervous about, it was Castiel.
What if he didn't like his car? Or his choice in music? What if he hated the way he drives, or has some weird allergy to leather and like breaks out and never talks to Dean again!
Dean has to calm down, he was just dropping them off. It would only take 10 minutes, not even. And Dean is pretty sure Cas would tell him if he was allergic to freaking leather. Right?
There was no reason to be nervous. None whatsoever. He was overthinking again. The problem he should be worried about isn't Cas, it's what awaits for him at home.
Yet still, Dean didn't want to drive Cas away. Dean liked Cas.
Like, a lot.
Okay, maybe a lot a lot. It's not his fault that he finds Cas fascinating and awesome and totally attractive (Understatement).
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Underneath The Silken Feathers
ФанфикAfter their mothers recent diagnosis, Castiel and his family must move to a small town in Kansas and try to make a new life while their mother struggles with fighting cancer. Dean and Sam have had a rough life. Between their abusive father and strug...
