I'll Paint You Wings and Set You Free

Family Matters

(Dean's POV)

While Gabriel was at my house, we just did guy stuff. You know, watched TV, played video games, and ate food. Lots. Of. Food. 

Sam hung out with us for a little bit too. He and Gabe are in the same grade so it was less awkward. I think they're beginning to become good friends. It's good for Sam to have someone like that in his life. Dad was never very good to us, he always hated on Sam because he was smart.

Sam had always had a 4.0 GPA and every single one of his teachers loved him. Then, Dad got to him.

He started beating Sam, well, at least until I intervened. Sam would just go to his room and hide under the bed until I came to get him after Dad left for the bar. Soon after the beatings started, Sam grew too big to fit underneath his bed. Did I mention that he is about six feet tall and he's only a freshman? But, anyways, more about Sam's enormity later.

Eventually, Sam was old enough to stand up for himself, but I always he knew he should never stand up for me. It only made Dad angrier. Sam wanted to leave the house, but the need he had for me was even stronger. Dad had theatened to kill one or both of us if we ever told anyone, so when we had to explain the bruises and cuts that we had to the teachers, we just had to say we got into a fight between the two of us. It didn't take long for my art teacher to figure out what was really going on.

Around when the beatings had started was when I started to paint. Everything I painted was abstract for the most part, aside from some sketches I never showed anyone. It was all dark, tainted with red, black, and sometimes some gray. Most of it only had meaning to me, and sometimes Sam, but no one could even try to comprehend what it meant. Some of my more public sketches I did for an art class or just doodling in my notebook during class were a bit less meaningful. None of them were actually happy, though.

I don't believe in happy anymore. 

I showed Gabe some of my paintings, some of the less graphic and more understandable ones that I showed to Sam. None that were as personal as the wings I had painted. He thought they were great, he loved them actually.

Gabriel told me about some girls that I should keep an eye out for and some that I should avoid completely. For a freshman, he sure knew a helluva lot about the upperclassmen.

"It helps to have a brother that is older than you," he had said. "Plus, when you're the youngest one, you hear a lot more than they tell you."

Gabe left at around quarter to six, saying he had homework he needed Castiel's help with. 

Castiel.

I had just met him today. He seemed nice enough, just not the type of guy I would hang out with. I don't like cocky bastards. I don't like stoners and alcoholics. There isn't much I actually like. Maybe the type who has gone through something similar and I can connect with them. Kind of difficult to find if you ask me. Naturally, I don't have many friends. 

Castiel did have nice blue eyes. I guess you could say he had a pretty great smile, too. It always seemed genuine. For the record, I am not a homosexual. I am in no way opposed to them at all, but I am not one. 

Gabe didn't tell me much else about his family, aside from the fact that they are rich and have gigantic house. On the flip side, I didn't tell him anything either, really.

That night, I went to bed thinking about Monday. Fuck, I  hate Mondays, I thought. I mean, I had two days to prepare myself for this, but, man was I not ready. For any Monday. Ever.

The next morning I was rudely awakened by a hyperactive puppy bouncing up and down on my bed.

"So, Dean?" Sam asked. "What did you dream about last night?"