I've Got You

Chapter 3

The weekend wasn’t as bad as Cas had originally thought it would be. It was quite enjoyable. Mary and John were very nice while Sam was funny and entertaining. Dean was adorable as always.

But on Friday night there was some awkwardness. Cas had asked to borrow some night clothes from Dean. The older boy almost looked like he was going to refuse, but in the end, he agreed. When Castiel was changed, he almost suffocated from the smell of pure Dean. Speaking of Dean, when the teen caught sight of Cas wearing his clothes, Cas could have sworn he saw a flash of hunger go through those gorgeous green eyes. But it was gone just as fast as it came, so Castiel convinced himself that it was just his imagination. 

Dean then, very shyly, offered his bed to Cas. Those green eyes were refusing to meet Cas’ blue ones, and Cas was pretty sure Dean was blushing as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Castiel agreed, just as shy, and climbed under the covers. Dean decided to sleep on floor at the foot of the bed. 

Sleeping in Dean’s bed was torture. Sweet, sweet torture. 

The rest of the weekend, though, was filled with movies, games, and laughter. And maybe some stolen glances on Cas’ part.

But now the laughter was over, pain taking its place.

Cas was currently being pinned against the brick walls outside the school by Alistair and his ‘followers’, as they liked to be called.

“My boy Metatron here tells me that he caught you staring at him in the locker room.” Alistair looked disgusted, exactly how Cas felt at that. But, he was still already starting to tear up. Lisa was sure to already be spreading rumors like a wildfire. Oh god… what if Dean heard? What if he believed it and stopped talking to him?   

The thought sent a dull ache through his chest and he felt like sobbing. 

Alistair smiled darkly, obviously pleased with how much he was hurting Cas. His smile widened as he turned to Metatron, acting as if Cas wasn’t even there as they discussed. “You’re the victim of this disgusting perv, how do you wanna deal with it?”

Metatron seemed to consider before grinning. Without a verbal response, he inched closer to Azazel who was now holding Cas up, taking Alistair’s previous place. Still not saying anything, he punched Cas in the gut. He groaned at the sharp pain shooting through his abdomen and tried to double over, but Alistair moved forward, helping Azazel keep him upright. 

The physical assault continued until the bell rang, signaling the start of school. Cas was roughly dropped to the ground, making the pain worse. 

When he finally limped his way into the library, his eye had turned purple, his bottom lip was swollen and busted open, caked in dried blood, nose broken and bloody, cheek cut, also covered in blood, and his entire torso was bruised, ribs swollen. 

Dean dropped the books in his hands, running over to the bloody and broken teen. “Are you okay?” He asked, eyes wide and filled with worry. Cas shook his head -he was barely even able to with the pain fogging his brain-, tears falling freely now. He hated burdening Dean with his problems. 

“Okay, it’s okay.” He promised, tenderly stroking his unhurt cheek. “Do you want me to take you home?”

Cas almost said yes, because all he wanted was to go home, but then he thought of the fact that he would not only be burdening Dean today, he’d also be burdening his family. So, instead of agreeing like he desperately wanted to, he shook his head no. 

Dean seemed to at least partially understand and didn’t try to pressure him into going home. Cas thought that would be it, that Dean would leave him alone until said teen spoke again. “Okay, buddy, come on.” 

Most of the time being mute was harder than it seemed when trying to communicate with people that weren’t his family. Either people didn’t want to waste time waiting for Cas to write, or if that option wasn’t available, nobody could understand what he was trying to say by pointing, using gestures, and trying various facial expressions. But when he was with Dean, communication was the easiest. He was always patient and could read his facial expressions as if he was a book. The latter was what was helpful at the moment. 

“I’m taking you to my place to clean you up.” He whispered, clearly able to read Cas’ confusion easily. 

Dean was pretty damn good at patching people up because Sam was always getting his ass kicked in soccer, though his injuries were never this bad. Usually a few cuts and bruises, the oddball bloody nose here and there.

“And then afterwards you can tell me how much of a badass you were when this happened. I bet you sent all the douches to the hospital.” 

Dean’s words had the intended effect because when he looked down, Cas had a small smile on his face. 

Even distracted, Cas didn’t think being alone with Dean was a very good idea. 

Somebody shoot me now, he silently prayed. 

~~

The house seemed different with nobody else home. It seemed lifeless.

Dean didn’t seem to notice how tense Cas was, and if did, he probably just chalked it up to Cas being in pain.

Dean led Cas into his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom, and Cas briefly wondered if the bathroom was part of the original floor plan. Dean had told him that his father was a carpenter who also specialized in home repairs.

“Sit on the toilet seat,” Dean instructed gently, and even if Cas wanted to disobey the order, he wouldn’t be able to with how sweet Dean was being. 

Cas flinched back when Dean touched a wet cloth to his cheek, wincing a little. Dean quickly apologised before cupping Cas’ jaw, doing it again, more gentle this time. 

Dean made the process as quick and painless as possible before carrying a drowsy Cas bridal style to his bed, tucking him in and everything. 

Dean made the boy take a couple of painkillers before letting him go to sleep. 

~~

Dean couldn’t help himself as he sat in the chair that was by his bed, watching over the Cas as he slept peacefully. A stark contrast to how Cas had looked when Dean first saw him. 

He felt guilt pool in the pit of his stomach for letting this happen to the boy, and he swore on his own life that he’d never let anyone hurt Cas ever again. And if someone did, he’d cut off their dick -or mutilate their vagina if it was a woman- and let the sorry fucker slowly bleed out to death, gradually adding more wounds as the hours ticked by. 

~~

When Cas came to again, his head was pounding, and his torso was throbbing. 

Looking around the first thing he noticed was a sleeping Dean hunched over in a chair next to the bed, and a glass of water with some painkillers on the nightstand. He idly wondered what it would be like to have Dean asleep next to him in the same bed, limbs intertwined, bodies naked after some languid morning sex. The morning sun filtered through the window, laying it’s warm, golden finger on Dean, illuminating his beautiful freckles, eyes bright with happiness as he smiled intimately at Cas. 

He was pulled back into the depths of sleep before he could dwell on the thought for too long, though.