Tell Me Who I Am part 14
Tell Me Who I Am
Part 1
~~~
Pamela flicked a pea in Dean's face and said, her tone joking, “Dude, stop spacing out like that. Someone might take advantage and make you look like an idiot.”
Dean straightened himself and raised an eyebrow at Pamela. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”
“Oh, lay off him,” Jo said, her face deathly injurious. It was like her Dean sense was tingling and she could just tell there had been a disruption in the force for some time now. “Can't we have a normal lunch in the cafeteria without throwing food around like fifth graders?”
Pamela shrugged and went back to picking at her ersatz food. “Geez, what are you, his mother? I was only teasing.”
“That wasn't teasing!” Jo huffed. “You were picking on him again!”
Dean threw a wary look at Chuck, who, as usual, kept his head low and tried not to get himself involved in anything that could bite him in the ass. He could sure be conveniently subdued when it came to taking sides. The coward. He returned to staring bleakly at his plate when the mousy boy mumbled something to his food.
“Come again?” Dean prodded.
“I just...” Chuck levelled his gaze with him; his face harboured a scrounged up, meek kind of sincerity, as if he were undecided on what emotion to portray. “What with Castiel's return to school and all, I thought you'd be happier than this. Aren't you two like... a couple or something?”
“Of course they are!” Jo chided him. “They just can't be lovey-dovey in public. You know how it is.”
Dean exhaled and pulled his chair back. The rest of them watched in perplexed worry as their friend walked away, silent and frustrated.
It wasn't just Chuck. He, too, had thought he'd be happier now that Castiel had unexpectedly returned to school. He'd been meaning to ask him about that. In the end, had he turned down the opportunity to go to Switzerland? Did he choose to finish his education in this cheap public school because of him? Unfortunately, it was quite difficult for him to get any answers if the boy in question kept doggedly avoiding him. Could it be that he felt obligated to stay behind because of the affection he had for him? He went to the boys' room and splashed some water on his face. It couldn't be that Castiel was mad at him for influencing and manipulating his decisions, could it?
A flush from a toilet stall behind sounded and a boy emerged forward to wash his hands. Dean ran a hand down his face and started when he saw the boy's reflection in the mirror. How could Castiel be so oblivious? Or was he ignoring him again? Talk about awkward...
He breathed in and said flatly, “So it's like that. You're just gonna keep on ignoring me without even giving me a reason.”
Castiel's face looked honestly startled when he heard his voice. So he really was that oblivious, Dean thought to himself with dry amusement.
It seemed like the boy had been caught totally off-guard and was now trying to re-assess the situation.
“Dean.” His voice came out sounding like it had been twanged on a tight cord. “Uh.” He backed up, hovered irresolutely at the door for a moment, and dashed out the boys' room.
“Hey, wait!” Dean cried and ran after him.
What the hell was that about? Castiel was definitely hiding something from him, and he intended on getting some answers. Dean twisted his head down each end of the corridor to see where the boy had scurried off to. Damn, that kid was fast. Well, not to worry, he thought. He'd try cornering him after biology class.
-
The entirety of biology class was spent in anticipative awaiting; Dean didn't even know the subject of the day, focussing as he was on both the time and evaluating his “corner Castiel and get some answers” strategy. Dean was not the kind of guy you went out with just to test your sexuality or have a good fuck with for a weekend and then bury it under the rest of your dirty secrets (unless he wanted it that way from the beginning, that is). For Chrissakes, he thought, I frigging invited him over to dinner! That's gotta count for something.
Alright, it was almost time... Dean had already cleared the stuff off his desk ten minutes before the bell.
As soon as the end of class rang, however, Miss Feldt said ominously, “Dean. A word, please.”
Crap, crappity, crap, crap, crap. Seriously? He watched helplessly as Castiel slipped past the others and out the room, safe from any confrontation with Dean.
“You needed to speak with me?” he said to the teacher, trying very hard not to glower at her.
Miss Feldt briskly packed away her papers in her bag and gave him a stern look.
“I don't know what your relation is to your friend, Dean, and it's none of my business.”
You got that right, Dean thought to himself. Is that all she wanted to talk about? Really?
“But,” she continued, “it doesn't excuse you from paying attention in class.”
Oh, right. That. He felt a little embarrassed.
“Um. I'm sorry?” he ventured.
Miss Feldt cocked an eyebrow at a jaunty angle. She was not convinced.
-
Damn. He thought the teacher would never shut up about the importance of paying attention in class and how it would later impact his future and how soon he'd be crippled with debts and living out of a cardboard box on the streets forced to sell his body. He wondered about her sometimes... Walking out into the corridors, he searched out Castiel. This was getting ridiculous. He just wanted to talk to him for a sec.
He rounded a corner and bumped into a fretful-looking Chuck.
“Dean,” he started in earnest.
But Dean was busy right now.
“Hey, Chuck. You seen Cas anywhere?”
“Listen to me, Dean,” Chuck said, seeking to capture his friend's distracted eyes.
“Not now, Chuck.” Dean sidestepped him. “I need to find Cas. You know where he is?”
Chuck started, “He's outside waiting for his driver, but -”
“'Kay, thanks!” Dean answered swiftly and bounded toward the school gates. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to Chuck; he just didn't have the time.
“Dean!” Chuck cried after him; his shoulders sagged at the boy's receding figure.
“Ah, screw it. Be an ass.”
-
Castiel's frail figure stood shivering impatiently by the gates; other young people passed him by as if he were nothing more than a defective lamppost. Dean spotted him right away. Being the most ignored person in school made the boy stick out even more like a sore thumb. Ah, good, his driver hadn't arrived yet. Now was his chance. Even so, he felt kind of bad sneaking up on the poor guy like this.
“Hey, there,” he said, his voice low and deep.
Castiel made a small sound like an old, rusty spring.
“I believe there was something you needed to tell me.”
Castiel's face was an odd mixture of indignant resentment and flustered embarrassment.
“Dean...”
“Come on, Cas.” Dean said and reached a hand out to trail his fingertips across Castiel's wind-beaten cheeks.
Castiel breathed in sharply and slapped him across the face. What was it? The skin hit by the impact stung and throbbed hotly in the cold. Dean wordlessly brought his naked hand to the crackling skin. When was it?
Had there been an exact moment where things between them had broken down to the point of total incomprehension? It seemed that no matter how much initiative he took, he still couldn't break past that aloof wall moulded securely around the boy. He knew that, somewhere, Castiel might have wanted him too, but he couldn't tell if Castiel would ever allow himself to love him back. Was he that much a of an eyesore?
He'd been so bent on claiming Castiel that he never spared a thought on how the boy might perceive him. What was he to Castiel? After all, he didn't have much worth to his name - a crude nobody that graced everyone with his devil-may-care attitude. How could he force himself like this on him when it was obvious the boy had no desire to keep their relationship going? Then again, it might have all been in Dean's head. He was so desperate to believe that this boy, this slender thing that could easily be blown away by a strong wind, this stubborn, intricate doll animated by the spirit of science, could even consider him.
Castiel stared at him mutely; Dean could see the fright and disgust shimmer in the remote glass eyes. He sighed, unwilling to look him in the eyes.
“You're right,” he mumbled almost unintelligibly to the ground. “I'm such an idiot” He gave a humourless chuckle. “Seriously, you're much better off without me.”
“Wha-?” Castiel blinked.
His driver finally arrived and pulled the car right in front of Castiel, its engine still running and patiently waiting for the boy to get in.
Dean turned on his foot and waved him away, a flippant smile playing on his lips.“Go find a nice classy girl. I won't embarrass you anymore.”
And with those last words he walked down the road, fading into the grey winter's day, out of Castiel's life.
-
I won't embarrass you anymore.
If only you'd make a bit more sense, thought Castiel. And how could he just leave like that after deciding how he should feel about Dean? Such disregard... It really annoyed him. But he couldn't say he hadn't been expecting it either.
George got out of the car and opened the car door for him.
“Thank you,” he mumbled automatically. “Let's go see him.”
“Yes, sir.”
The only reason he had to stay behind in the States a little longer was because his incapable brother had gotten himself into an accident and had almost died. After the Christmas holidays, though, he was sure to leave.
People change. So of course it was only a matter of time before Dean's feelings did too.
- - -
There he lay on the hospital bed, fractured and bruised and semi-conscious, no longer the garish, loud-mouthed kid Castiel knew. Funny how humbling hospital beds could be. But even then, it still looked like his brother possessed the bed in the manner Pharaohs dominated their caskets. To him, Jimmy would always be immune to earthly concerns.
He pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. His brother's eyes flickered open; though recognition was present in his mind, it had long leaked from his eyesight.
“Cas?” he struggled to say through his wired jaw.
The first time Castiel saw him, he swore he'd almost fainted. He knew for a fact that there was approximately 1.5 gallons of blood in the human body, but seeing Jimmy fresh on a gurney with his jaw bone sticking out his cheek and a piece of glass firmly lodged in his shoulder, blood had never been so fine a coat to mask and enhance the grotesqueness of the picture all at once. If Jimmy had really died... he really didn't know what he'd do.
“Yes, Jimmy. It's me.” He breathed out and touched his hand. Jimmy wrapped his fingers around it.
“D'you t'll M'th'r?” He sounded nervous. He probably felt bad about worrying her.
“It wasn't easy, but Daddy told her. She'll be here in two days.”
Jimmy's hand tightened. They lapsed into silence.
“Did that inspector come by again?” Castiel asked.
“Mm.”
Even voicing sound bites proved difficult for Jimmy; the morphine must have started taking its toll on him. That inspector... what was his name again? Hendricksen or Henricksen. That man didn't have to push his brother so hard. He knew the details of the accident were important for the report, but Jimmy said he couldn't remember anything, plus he could barely talk and was possibly traumatised. On top of that, they were still imposing a fine and expected him to show up in court. And since Jimmy didn't seem to care, he was the one who got angry for him; it was like their roles had been reversed.
They were just lucky the other person in the car was relatively unharmed and didn't file a suit. Apparently the driver had swerved away just in time; unfortunately for Jimmy, his car had slid on black ice and crashed into a ditch on the side of the road. Stupid, stupid Jimmy. What was he thinking doing something so reckless? Didn't he care at all?
“'Ts wr'ng?” Jimmy asked. Though the question was an attempt at comfort, the voice was slow and dragged out by a disinterested listlessness.
“Stop talking, Jimmy,” Castiel said quietly.
And so Jimmy did. He must've been more tired than he'd thought.
“If you pull another stunt like this,” Castiel added, “I swear... I'll kill you myself.”
Jimmy withdrew his hand and raised it to his brother's cheek. Gently, he trailed his fingers over Castiel's face, poring over the fatigue and anxiety firmly etched into the skin's fabric. Castiel felt that his brother could see him clearly despite his blindness, perhaps even more so because of it. He closed his eyes and leaned into the searching fingers.
“'Diot,” Jimmy muttered reproachfully. “S'not l'ke you t'cry.”
- - -
“Is it okay?”
The voice barely emerged through a hazy cocktail of alcohol and perfume while the loud aromas sighed luxuriously all around Dean. He wasn't sure about anything anymore. He didn't think his background would've been an issue, but he really should've seen it coming a mile away. Damn rich kids. Well, there was nothing to it; their lives were just too different. How could he have thought they were making any progress?
“I said it was fine, didn't I?” he snapped at the girl.
She was a pretty gal who didn't deserve to get snapped at. Black hair, blue eyes, a pale complexion, a slim body, a serious but honest face... Maybe he really did have a type. He took his head in his hands and coughed to loosen his throat. Dammit.
He grabbed her sleeve and looked into her eyes. “Tessa.”
It was getting dark out and he had baseball practice tomorrow. Even so, he'd decided to hang out with the girl who'd confessed her crush to him at the beginning of the school year. He still wasn't quite sure what he was doing. They were at her place; her friend Anna and her boyfriend Andy were somewhere in the next room. Perhaps she too felt it would be bad if they were left completely alone.
“Why?” he asked.
Why that boy? Why did it have to be someone who couldn't give him a chance? Was he always going to be seen as a half-hearted joke? Dammit...
“Why does he think...” he trailed off. “I really am annoying, aren't I?” He gave a weak smile.
Tessa pried the beer bottle away from his limp fingers and slumped back into the couch. She didn't look mad. Maybe a little... disappointed?
“I'm sorry; I'm a bit of a pain once I get tipsy.”
She said nothing and kept staring at the low table in front of them, probably pissed. He had to wonder why she ever accepted his coming over. Giggles from the next room underlined the tense atmosphere.
“Tessa...” he started. “What... what made you like me?”
He could usually hold his liquor better than this, so what the hell was making him blurt out sissy questions like that? But... he was kind of curious all the same.
She sighed and finally looked at him.
“I don't know, Dean. Call it hormones, a typical schoolgirl crush, whatever.” She flung her hair back and tapped her fingers against her knee. “If I had to say, I guess the thing that really pulled me in was your honesty. Don't get me wrong; at first I thought you were just a sweet talker, nothing but a load of cheap pick-up lines. But when you get down to it, you're simply incapable of hiding your real feelings, which makes you completely loyal and honest to the people you care about. I like that about you.” She lowered her head and hid her eyes.
“I only wish I'd known how to make you look at me that way.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
“This was a mistake,” she said bluntly. “You should go home.”
“What? But we didn't even...”
“Please leave,” she said sternly.
It looked like he'd only be a nuisance if he refused; nothing was going to get accomplished like this.
“If you really feel that way...”
“I do.”
He got up, managing victoriously not to wobble, and turned back to face her.
“Fer what it's worth,” he said, “I never disliked you.”
“I know.”
He opened the door and headed back home on foot. The night air would be enough to clear his head. To be honest, it wasn't that Tessa wasn't his type or anything... she just had that otherworldly air about her that made him uneasy, like she could see more than he was comfortable with. And anyway, all he could think about as he looked at her was how she wasn't the person he wanted to see.
- - -
The next morning at baseball practice, Dean overheard his team mates discussing something in excited voices over by the benches.
“Dude, you should totally sue!”
They shouldn't get distracted like that from practice; the coach would get pissed at them again. Still, he got closer to the huddled group and tried to pick up on the conversation.
“Your dad's so gonna kill you if you don't come up with money for the repairs.”
“Guys, guys,” a voice, Tony, tried to calm them down. “What happened to the hood and the front lights are nothing if you saw how smashed up the other guy was. And to be fair, I wasn't supposed to have taken it out for a spin anyway, so it's kinda my fault. Plus the road was real slippery.”
“Moron,” someone growled dismissively. “You're too soft. I'll give you ten years before you end up ruined by con artists.”
“That's harsh.” Tony pouted. “You shoulda seen him. There was blood everywhere! I'm lucky I only got a few scratches.”
“Yeah, but the kid's loaded,” said a different voice this time added. “It wouldn't do his family much harm to give compensation, would it?”
Dean entered into the conversation. “You get into a car accident, Tony?”
“Yeah. Last Sunday.” Tony sheepishly admitted. He was a good kid who meant well, but he was also really clumsy and simple-minded, only good at batting.
“Good thing you're alive, then. It'd be a pain to replace you. So, do you know what happened to the other guy?”
“He... he's being hospitalised.”
“I hear he's some big shot’s son,” someone sneered. “I think you shoulda totally sued their pants off.”
“What's his name?” Dean asked Tony.
Tony's face pinched in concentration for a moment. “B... Ballani. Bellory. Ah, no. Bellamy. Jimmy Bellamy. Cops wouldn't let me go until I gave a full report on the accident; especially this one inspector. What a tight-ass. It was even worse when I had to face the kid's father. He's one scary dude, I'll tell you that, and also... Hey, Dean! Where you going?” He yelled after the boy.
Dean yelled back, “Tell Coach something came up! I promise to make up for it!”
The boys stared after him, confused.
“Weirdo,” said one of them.
- - -
“Cas, stup it, pliz” muttered Jimmy.
Castiel blinked and looked up. Ever since the accident, Jimmy had been taking everything in with unusual levity; or more like someone who just couldn't care about what happened to him either way. He was the one who fretted the most over his eye operation, he was the one who almost developed an ulcer from the stress of wondering how much longer it would take before his brother snapped. It wasn't normal. Jimmy wasn't acting like Jimmy.
“Stop what?”
Jimmy sighed through his nose and said nothing.
Just what was up with him? Usually, he'd always put up a fight to get his own way over anything, no matter how trivial - especially if it was trivial. But now it was like he just didn't care anymore; he'd practically stopped talking to anyone except him. If it was necessary, he wrote on a piece of paper.
“Why're y'here?” he asked.
“What do you mean 'why'? I need to make sure you're okay and not bound to do something stupid again.”
Jimmy shook his head. “Dat's nut whut I meant. Whut 'bout y'r studies?”
“That's my business.”
They settled into a pocket of silence. The hospital sounds from outside the room came and went, unobtrusively scurrying through the cracks of their conversation.
Jimmy added quietly, “Whut 'bout Dean?”
“What about him?” Castiel said levelly. “Are you implying he's more important than you?”
Jimmy said nothing.
There was a knock on the door. Castiel got up and went to open it. A tall black man with a goatee and a suit stood there with an unmistakable professional hard glint in his eyes. Though Castiel could perfectly understand him, he very much disliked the man.
“If it's alright with you, Mr Bellamy,” the deep voice struck his ears, “may I be permitted to carry out my duty today?”
“Would it count as an obstruction to police investigation if I didn't?” Castiel said dryly.
The man chuckled, dry and sharp, like snake's rattle. “You look like a smart kid, Mr Bellamy, so you know how it is. Dura lex sed lex and all that. Personally, I'd rather be at home with my wife or out drinking, but unfortunately some of us are stuck with this bothersome thing called a job.”
The thought of leaving Jimmy alone with this creep who would do nothing but prod him with annoying questions made the bile in his stomach rise. He turned to face his brother for an ounce of support. But as usual, Jimmy remained unresponsive, still hit as he was by a crushing lethargy that sapped him of all of his former verve.
“But he's still not...” Castiel started, but the rest of his words were swallowed by a ruckus from down the hall.
Both Castiel and the man stared at the door for a few seconds before a figure suddenly emerged in the door frame, doubled on itself, panting and wheezing.
“Dea-”
“Why the fuck didn't you tell me, you asshole!” Dean's voice echoed through the whole hospital.
Castiel turned beet-red. Nurses and patients had turned their heads towards them.
“I mean, isn't this is the kind of stuff you tell your boy-”
Castiel shoved a hand over his mouth with more force than necessary, effectively making Dean lose his balance. Unfortunately, the boy had had the foresight (or excellent reflex reaction) to grab his shirt and had brought them both crashing to the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean cried.
“That's my line!” Castiel retorted.
Dean grumbled, “Get off me! Hospital floors are gross.”
Inspector Henricksen offered his hand to Dean, who accepted it with a grunt of appreciation. Castiel threw a worried glance at Jimmy who remained sitting up in bed, gazing vacantly in front of him.
“'S fine, Cas,” Jimmy said. “Guh wiz Dean.”
“But...”
“I sid guh, dammit!” Jimmy said, clenching his fists in the sheets.
Castiel stared, dumbfounded, at him. His brother had never once raised his voice or showed anything but dazed apathy until now.
“Jimmy...”
“I think your brother is right,” the man cut in.
Castiel glanced at Jimmy's resolute and tense frame once more, before lowering his head and walking out the door.
- - -
Out in the corridor, he leaned on the wall outside Jimmy's room, ignoring Dean's pressing stare.
“What do you want?” he said wearily to the floor.
“Ah, the million dollar question.” Dean simpered, digging his hands into his pockets. “What, you think I don't give two fucks about the car accident if it wasn't you? How is he doing?”
“Stop pretending you care about Jimmy,” Castiel said, his voice low and electric.
Dean lay a hand on the wall above the boy's shoulder and frowned. “What exactly is your problem?”
Castiel shrugged himself away from the wall and bit out, “What are you doing here? Haven't you tired of me yet?”
“Just what the hell's that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, baffled and irritated.
Castiel wordlessly strode down the corridor, determined to escape Dean.
“Hey, just wait a second!” Dean charged after him.
Castiel picked up his pace, dodging nurses, interns and doctors, as well as the odd admonition that flew his way. But Dean was the sporty one, and he was relentless. Soon, he found himself out of breath and driven into a corner. Dean came up behind him, a hand on his chest, panting.
“Alright, I'll admit it,” he said. “I did think of letting you go.”
The admission rang loud in Castiel's ears, almost to the point of making them bleed.
“But not for...” He paused to catch his breath. “Not because I don't care about you anymore. Not because I've grown tired or whatever lame idea you've got. It's because... well... I thought sooner or later you'd...”
It was clear that the boy was having a hard time coming out with his reasons, especially seeing how red and bothered he was.
Dean looked him in the eye and said, despite being flustered to the point of inarticulateness, “You're way out of my league, get it? I've got lousy grades; you're top student. I'm your garden-variety, dime a dozen, ordinary jock without a clear future; you're the most unique person I've ever met who's all set to appear on the cover of Forbes Magazine. It was only a matter of time before you figured that out yourself.”
This was the first time Castiel was hearing any of this. He didn't know how to respond to it all.
“Wha...?” he said, incapable of finding any other words to clearly express how completely nonplussed he was.
“Yeah...” Dean said, scratching the back of his neck. “God I sound so desperate. I wanna die right now.”
He turned his back to the boy, ready to disappear from Castiel's life for good. So Dean thought he was worthless compared to him? How laughable. He was the one who'd been sure Dean thought he was nothing more of him than a good way to pass the time. And he'd been so entirely sucked in by his unabashed earnestness too. Maybe... maybe be it was okay to want to stay with him a little longer, even if Dean didn't see it now.
“I don't think you're ordinary,” Castiel mumbled. “I don't believe anyone is truly ordinary. But what I want to know is...” he raised his eyes nervously at Dean's back. “Will you wait for me? After Switzerland, I mean.”
Dean turned back, smiling, and stepped forward and folded his arms around him. Castiel nestled his face into the warm neck. If Dean had said it was alright to be a little selfish, then he'd gladly take his word for it and claim this little piece of him for himself.
“You're a cruel person, Cas,” Dean mumbled in the embrace. “Running away from me, testing me like that. Of course I'll wait for you, moron.”
Castiel's voice remained stuck in his throat like a knife had been pressed right up against his vocal chords, so that all he could do was swallow to lessen the sting. He had never seen any person love another so honestly, so openly and without restraint he could lose himself in it. Dean was such an idiot for picking him. But if it meant having him like this, then he wasn't going to complain.
He framed Dean's face between his hands and pressed their lips together. Dean sighed into the kiss and deepened it, holding Catiel's head firmly from behind. Castiel wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in even deeper.
perhaps
A persistent thought still nagged at the back of Castiel's mind, however. Jimmy had known on some level.
- - -
A/N: And then they had hot sex in the supply room (which I hope to describe in full in the next installment!). This is still not over. I have yet to describe how they will spend Christmas and how Jimmy is getting more and more depressed (Sam will help cheer him up) and his court penalty. BUT, there is to be more WAFF this time round.
I'm soooo sorry this took so long to update OTL OTL. RL was crazy busy and I got distracted by binge-reading a crapton of Boys' Love manga (which prolly influenced this chapter quite a lot =_=;; Is that a good thing? idek). I have a feeling this is my worst chapter yet T^T Maybe I'll scrap this or re-write it later...
tarot-cards-online.com
Part 1
~~~
Pamela flicked a pea in Dean's face and said, her tone joking, “Dude, stop spacing out like that. Someone might take advantage and make you look like an idiot.”
Dean straightened himself and raised an eyebrow at Pamela. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”
“Oh, lay off him,” Jo said, her face deathly injurious. It was like her Dean sense was tingling and she could just tell there had been a disruption in the force for some time now. “Can't we have a normal lunch in the cafeteria without throwing food around like fifth graders?”
Pamela shrugged and went back to picking at her ersatz food. “Geez, what are you, his mother? I was only teasing.”
“That wasn't teasing!” Jo huffed. “You were picking on him again!”
Dean threw a wary look at Chuck, who, as usual, kept his head low and tried not to get himself involved in anything that could bite him in the ass. He could sure be conveniently subdued when it came to taking sides. The coward. He returned to staring bleakly at his plate when the mousy boy mumbled something to his food.
“Come again?” Dean prodded.
“I just...” Chuck levelled his gaze with him; his face harboured a scrounged up, meek kind of sincerity, as if he were undecided on what emotion to portray. “What with Castiel's return to school and all, I thought you'd be happier than this. Aren't you two like... a couple or something?”
“Of course they are!” Jo chided him. “They just can't be lovey-dovey in public. You know how it is.”
Dean exhaled and pulled his chair back. The rest of them watched in perplexed worry as their friend walked away, silent and frustrated.
It wasn't just Chuck. He, too, had thought he'd be happier now that Castiel had unexpectedly returned to school. He'd been meaning to ask him about that. In the end, had he turned down the opportunity to go to Switzerland? Did he choose to finish his education in this cheap public school because of him? Unfortunately, it was quite difficult for him to get any answers if the boy in question kept doggedly avoiding him. Could it be that he felt obligated to stay behind because of the affection he had for him? He went to the boys' room and splashed some water on his face. It couldn't be that Castiel was mad at him for influencing and manipulating his decisions, could it?
A flush from a toilet stall behind sounded and a boy emerged forward to wash his hands. Dean ran a hand down his face and started when he saw the boy's reflection in the mirror. How could Castiel be so oblivious? Or was he ignoring him again? Talk about awkward...
He breathed in and said flatly, “So it's like that. You're just gonna keep on ignoring me without even giving me a reason.”
Castiel's face looked honestly startled when he heard his voice. So he really was that oblivious, Dean thought to himself with dry amusement.
It seemed like the boy had been caught totally off-guard and was now trying to re-assess the situation.
“Dean.” His voice came out sounding like it had been twanged on a tight cord. “Uh.” He backed up, hovered irresolutely at the door for a moment, and dashed out the boys' room.
“Hey, wait!” Dean cried and ran after him.
What the hell was that about? Castiel was definitely hiding something from him, and he intended on getting some answers. Dean twisted his head down each end of the corridor to see where the boy had scurried off to. Damn, that kid was fast. Well, not to worry, he thought. He'd try cornering him after biology class.
-
The entirety of biology class was spent in anticipative awaiting; Dean didn't even know the subject of the day, focussing as he was on both the time and evaluating his “corner Castiel and get some answers” strategy. Dean was not the kind of guy you went out with just to test your sexuality or have a good fuck with for a weekend and then bury it under the rest of your dirty secrets (unless he wanted it that way from the beginning, that is). For Chrissakes, he thought, I frigging invited him over to dinner! That's gotta count for something.
Alright, it was almost time... Dean had already cleared the stuff off his desk ten minutes before the bell.
As soon as the end of class rang, however, Miss Feldt said ominously, “Dean. A word, please.”
Crap, crappity, crap, crap, crap. Seriously? He watched helplessly as Castiel slipped past the others and out the room, safe from any confrontation with Dean.
“You needed to speak with me?” he said to the teacher, trying very hard not to glower at her.
Miss Feldt briskly packed away her papers in her bag and gave him a stern look.
“I don't know what your relation is to your friend, Dean, and it's none of my business.”
You got that right, Dean thought to himself. Is that all she wanted to talk about? Really?
“But,” she continued, “it doesn't excuse you from paying attention in class.”
Oh, right. That. He felt a little embarrassed.
“Um. I'm sorry?” he ventured.
Miss Feldt cocked an eyebrow at a jaunty angle. She was not convinced.
-
Damn. He thought the teacher would never shut up about the importance of paying attention in class and how it would later impact his future and how soon he'd be crippled with debts and living out of a cardboard box on the streets forced to sell his body. He wondered about her sometimes... Walking out into the corridors, he searched out Castiel. This was getting ridiculous. He just wanted to talk to him for a sec.
He rounded a corner and bumped into a fretful-looking Chuck.
“Dean,” he started in earnest.
But Dean was busy right now.
“Hey, Chuck. You seen Cas anywhere?”
“Listen to me, Dean,” Chuck said, seeking to capture his friend's distracted eyes.
“Not now, Chuck.” Dean sidestepped him. “I need to find Cas. You know where he is?”
Chuck started, “He's outside waiting for his driver, but -”
“'Kay, thanks!” Dean answered swiftly and bounded toward the school gates. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to Chuck; he just didn't have the time.
“Dean!” Chuck cried after him; his shoulders sagged at the boy's receding figure.
“Ah, screw it. Be an ass.”
-
Castiel's frail figure stood shivering impatiently by the gates; other young people passed him by as if he were nothing more than a defective lamppost. Dean spotted him right away. Being the most ignored person in school made the boy stick out even more like a sore thumb. Ah, good, his driver hadn't arrived yet. Now was his chance. Even so, he felt kind of bad sneaking up on the poor guy like this.
“Hey, there,” he said, his voice low and deep.
Castiel made a small sound like an old, rusty spring.
“I believe there was something you needed to tell me.”
Castiel's face was an odd mixture of indignant resentment and flustered embarrassment.
“Dean...”
“Come on, Cas.” Dean said and reached a hand out to trail his fingertips across Castiel's wind-beaten cheeks.
Castiel breathed in sharply and slapped him across the face. What was it? The skin hit by the impact stung and throbbed hotly in the cold. Dean wordlessly brought his naked hand to the crackling skin. When was it?
Had there been an exact moment where things between them had broken down to the point of total incomprehension? It seemed that no matter how much initiative he took, he still couldn't break past that aloof wall moulded securely around the boy. He knew that, somewhere, Castiel might have wanted him too, but he couldn't tell if Castiel would ever allow himself to love him back. Was he that much a of an eyesore?
He'd been so bent on claiming Castiel that he never spared a thought on how the boy might perceive him. What was he to Castiel? After all, he didn't have much worth to his name - a crude nobody that graced everyone with his devil-may-care attitude. How could he force himself like this on him when it was obvious the boy had no desire to keep their relationship going? Then again, it might have all been in Dean's head. He was so desperate to believe that this boy, this slender thing that could easily be blown away by a strong wind, this stubborn, intricate doll animated by the spirit of science, could even consider him.
Castiel stared at him mutely; Dean could see the fright and disgust shimmer in the remote glass eyes. He sighed, unwilling to look him in the eyes.
“You're right,” he mumbled almost unintelligibly to the ground. “I'm such an idiot” He gave a humourless chuckle. “Seriously, you're much better off without me.”
“Wha-?” Castiel blinked.
His driver finally arrived and pulled the car right in front of Castiel, its engine still running and patiently waiting for the boy to get in.
Dean turned on his foot and waved him away, a flippant smile playing on his lips.“Go find a nice classy girl. I won't embarrass you anymore.”
And with those last words he walked down the road, fading into the grey winter's day, out of Castiel's life.
-
I won't embarrass you anymore.
If only you'd make a bit more sense, thought Castiel. And how could he just leave like that after deciding how he should feel about Dean? Such disregard... It really annoyed him. But he couldn't say he hadn't been expecting it either.
George got out of the car and opened the car door for him.
“Thank you,” he mumbled automatically. “Let's go see him.”
“Yes, sir.”
The only reason he had to stay behind in the States a little longer was because his incapable brother had gotten himself into an accident and had almost died. After the Christmas holidays, though, he was sure to leave.
People change. So of course it was only a matter of time before Dean's feelings did too.
- - -
There he lay on the hospital bed, fractured and bruised and semi-conscious, no longer the garish, loud-mouthed kid Castiel knew. Funny how humbling hospital beds could be. But even then, it still looked like his brother possessed the bed in the manner Pharaohs dominated their caskets. To him, Jimmy would always be immune to earthly concerns.
He pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. His brother's eyes flickered open; though recognition was present in his mind, it had long leaked from his eyesight.
“Cas?” he struggled to say through his wired jaw.
The first time Castiel saw him, he swore he'd almost fainted. He knew for a fact that there was approximately 1.5 gallons of blood in the human body, but seeing Jimmy fresh on a gurney with his jaw bone sticking out his cheek and a piece of glass firmly lodged in his shoulder, blood had never been so fine a coat to mask and enhance the grotesqueness of the picture all at once. If Jimmy had really died... he really didn't know what he'd do.
“Yes, Jimmy. It's me.” He breathed out and touched his hand. Jimmy wrapped his fingers around it.
“D'you t'll M'th'r?” He sounded nervous. He probably felt bad about worrying her.
“It wasn't easy, but Daddy told her. She'll be here in two days.”
Jimmy's hand tightened. They lapsed into silence.
“Did that inspector come by again?” Castiel asked.
“Mm.”
Even voicing sound bites proved difficult for Jimmy; the morphine must have started taking its toll on him. That inspector... what was his name again? Hendricksen or Henricksen. That man didn't have to push his brother so hard. He knew the details of the accident were important for the report, but Jimmy said he couldn't remember anything, plus he could barely talk and was possibly traumatised. On top of that, they were still imposing a fine and expected him to show up in court. And since Jimmy didn't seem to care, he was the one who got angry for him; it was like their roles had been reversed.
They were just lucky the other person in the car was relatively unharmed and didn't file a suit. Apparently the driver had swerved away just in time; unfortunately for Jimmy, his car had slid on black ice and crashed into a ditch on the side of the road. Stupid, stupid Jimmy. What was he thinking doing something so reckless? Didn't he care at all?
“'Ts wr'ng?” Jimmy asked. Though the question was an attempt at comfort, the voice was slow and dragged out by a disinterested listlessness.
“Stop talking, Jimmy,” Castiel said quietly.
And so Jimmy did. He must've been more tired than he'd thought.
“If you pull another stunt like this,” Castiel added, “I swear... I'll kill you myself.”
Jimmy withdrew his hand and raised it to his brother's cheek. Gently, he trailed his fingers over Castiel's face, poring over the fatigue and anxiety firmly etched into the skin's fabric. Castiel felt that his brother could see him clearly despite his blindness, perhaps even more so because of it. He closed his eyes and leaned into the searching fingers.
“'Diot,” Jimmy muttered reproachfully. “S'not l'ke you t'cry.”
- - -
“Is it okay?”
The voice barely emerged through a hazy cocktail of alcohol and perfume while the loud aromas sighed luxuriously all around Dean. He wasn't sure about anything anymore. He didn't think his background would've been an issue, but he really should've seen it coming a mile away. Damn rich kids. Well, there was nothing to it; their lives were just too different. How could he have thought they were making any progress?
“I said it was fine, didn't I?” he snapped at the girl.
She was a pretty gal who didn't deserve to get snapped at. Black hair, blue eyes, a pale complexion, a slim body, a serious but honest face... Maybe he really did have a type. He took his head in his hands and coughed to loosen his throat. Dammit.
He grabbed her sleeve and looked into her eyes. “Tessa.”
It was getting dark out and he had baseball practice tomorrow. Even so, he'd decided to hang out with the girl who'd confessed her crush to him at the beginning of the school year. He still wasn't quite sure what he was doing. They were at her place; her friend Anna and her boyfriend Andy were somewhere in the next room. Perhaps she too felt it would be bad if they were left completely alone.
“Why?” he asked.
Why that boy? Why did it have to be someone who couldn't give him a chance? Was he always going to be seen as a half-hearted joke? Dammit...
“Why does he think...” he trailed off. “I really am annoying, aren't I?” He gave a weak smile.
Tessa pried the beer bottle away from his limp fingers and slumped back into the couch. She didn't look mad. Maybe a little... disappointed?
“I'm sorry; I'm a bit of a pain once I get tipsy.”
She said nothing and kept staring at the low table in front of them, probably pissed. He had to wonder why she ever accepted his coming over. Giggles from the next room underlined the tense atmosphere.
“Tessa...” he started. “What... what made you like me?”
He could usually hold his liquor better than this, so what the hell was making him blurt out sissy questions like that? But... he was kind of curious all the same.
She sighed and finally looked at him.
“I don't know, Dean. Call it hormones, a typical schoolgirl crush, whatever.” She flung her hair back and tapped her fingers against her knee. “If I had to say, I guess the thing that really pulled me in was your honesty. Don't get me wrong; at first I thought you were just a sweet talker, nothing but a load of cheap pick-up lines. But when you get down to it, you're simply incapable of hiding your real feelings, which makes you completely loyal and honest to the people you care about. I like that about you.” She lowered her head and hid her eyes.
“I only wish I'd known how to make you look at me that way.” She rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
“This was a mistake,” she said bluntly. “You should go home.”
“What? But we didn't even...”
“Please leave,” she said sternly.
It looked like he'd only be a nuisance if he refused; nothing was going to get accomplished like this.
“If you really feel that way...”
“I do.”
He got up, managing victoriously not to wobble, and turned back to face her.
“Fer what it's worth,” he said, “I never disliked you.”
“I know.”
He opened the door and headed back home on foot. The night air would be enough to clear his head. To be honest, it wasn't that Tessa wasn't his type or anything... she just had that otherworldly air about her that made him uneasy, like she could see more than he was comfortable with. And anyway, all he could think about as he looked at her was how she wasn't the person he wanted to see.
- - -
The next morning at baseball practice, Dean overheard his team mates discussing something in excited voices over by the benches.
“Dude, you should totally sue!”
They shouldn't get distracted like that from practice; the coach would get pissed at them again. Still, he got closer to the huddled group and tried to pick up on the conversation.
“Your dad's so gonna kill you if you don't come up with money for the repairs.”
“Guys, guys,” a voice, Tony, tried to calm them down. “What happened to the hood and the front lights are nothing if you saw how smashed up the other guy was. And to be fair, I wasn't supposed to have taken it out for a spin anyway, so it's kinda my fault. Plus the road was real slippery.”
“Moron,” someone growled dismissively. “You're too soft. I'll give you ten years before you end up ruined by con artists.”
“That's harsh.” Tony pouted. “You shoulda seen him. There was blood everywhere! I'm lucky I only got a few scratches.”
“Yeah, but the kid's loaded,” said a different voice this time added. “It wouldn't do his family much harm to give compensation, would it?”
Dean entered into the conversation. “You get into a car accident, Tony?”
“Yeah. Last Sunday.” Tony sheepishly admitted. He was a good kid who meant well, but he was also really clumsy and simple-minded, only good at batting.
“Good thing you're alive, then. It'd be a pain to replace you. So, do you know what happened to the other guy?”
“He... he's being hospitalised.”
“I hear he's some big shot’s son,” someone sneered. “I think you shoulda totally sued their pants off.”
“What's his name?” Dean asked Tony.
Tony's face pinched in concentration for a moment. “B... Ballani. Bellory. Ah, no. Bellamy. Jimmy Bellamy. Cops wouldn't let me go until I gave a full report on the accident; especially this one inspector. What a tight-ass. It was even worse when I had to face the kid's father. He's one scary dude, I'll tell you that, and also... Hey, Dean! Where you going?” He yelled after the boy.
Dean yelled back, “Tell Coach something came up! I promise to make up for it!”
The boys stared after him, confused.
“Weirdo,” said one of them.
- - -
“Cas, stup it, pliz” muttered Jimmy.
Castiel blinked and looked up. Ever since the accident, Jimmy had been taking everything in with unusual levity; or more like someone who just couldn't care about what happened to him either way. He was the one who fretted the most over his eye operation, he was the one who almost developed an ulcer from the stress of wondering how much longer it would take before his brother snapped. It wasn't normal. Jimmy wasn't acting like Jimmy.
“Stop what?”
Jimmy sighed through his nose and said nothing.
Just what was up with him? Usually, he'd always put up a fight to get his own way over anything, no matter how trivial - especially if it was trivial. But now it was like he just didn't care anymore; he'd practically stopped talking to anyone except him. If it was necessary, he wrote on a piece of paper.
“Why're y'here?” he asked.
“What do you mean 'why'? I need to make sure you're okay and not bound to do something stupid again.”
Jimmy shook his head. “Dat's nut whut I meant. Whut 'bout y'r studies?”
“That's my business.”
They settled into a pocket of silence. The hospital sounds from outside the room came and went, unobtrusively scurrying through the cracks of their conversation.
Jimmy added quietly, “Whut 'bout Dean?”
“What about him?” Castiel said levelly. “Are you implying he's more important than you?”
Jimmy said nothing.
There was a knock on the door. Castiel got up and went to open it. A tall black man with a goatee and a suit stood there with an unmistakable professional hard glint in his eyes. Though Castiel could perfectly understand him, he very much disliked the man.
“If it's alright with you, Mr Bellamy,” the deep voice struck his ears, “may I be permitted to carry out my duty today?”
“Would it count as an obstruction to police investigation if I didn't?” Castiel said dryly.
The man chuckled, dry and sharp, like snake's rattle. “You look like a smart kid, Mr Bellamy, so you know how it is. Dura lex sed lex and all that. Personally, I'd rather be at home with my wife or out drinking, but unfortunately some of us are stuck with this bothersome thing called a job.”
The thought of leaving Jimmy alone with this creep who would do nothing but prod him with annoying questions made the bile in his stomach rise. He turned to face his brother for an ounce of support. But as usual, Jimmy remained unresponsive, still hit as he was by a crushing lethargy that sapped him of all of his former verve.
“But he's still not...” Castiel started, but the rest of his words were swallowed by a ruckus from down the hall.
Both Castiel and the man stared at the door for a few seconds before a figure suddenly emerged in the door frame, doubled on itself, panting and wheezing.
“Dea-”
“Why the fuck didn't you tell me, you asshole!” Dean's voice echoed through the whole hospital.
Castiel turned beet-red. Nurses and patients had turned their heads towards them.
“I mean, isn't this is the kind of stuff you tell your boy-”
Castiel shoved a hand over his mouth with more force than necessary, effectively making Dean lose his balance. Unfortunately, the boy had had the foresight (or excellent reflex reaction) to grab his shirt and had brought them both crashing to the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean cried.
“That's my line!” Castiel retorted.
Dean grumbled, “Get off me! Hospital floors are gross.”
Inspector Henricksen offered his hand to Dean, who accepted it with a grunt of appreciation. Castiel threw a worried glance at Jimmy who remained sitting up in bed, gazing vacantly in front of him.
“'S fine, Cas,” Jimmy said. “Guh wiz Dean.”
“But...”
“I sid guh, dammit!” Jimmy said, clenching his fists in the sheets.
Castiel stared, dumbfounded, at him. His brother had never once raised his voice or showed anything but dazed apathy until now.
“Jimmy...”
“I think your brother is right,” the man cut in.
Castiel glanced at Jimmy's resolute and tense frame once more, before lowering his head and walking out the door.
- - -
Out in the corridor, he leaned on the wall outside Jimmy's room, ignoring Dean's pressing stare.
“What do you want?” he said wearily to the floor.
“Ah, the million dollar question.” Dean simpered, digging his hands into his pockets. “What, you think I don't give two fucks about the car accident if it wasn't you? How is he doing?”
“Stop pretending you care about Jimmy,” Castiel said, his voice low and electric.
Dean lay a hand on the wall above the boy's shoulder and frowned. “What exactly is your problem?”
Castiel shrugged himself away from the wall and bit out, “What are you doing here? Haven't you tired of me yet?”
“Just what the hell's that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, baffled and irritated.
Castiel wordlessly strode down the corridor, determined to escape Dean.
“Hey, just wait a second!” Dean charged after him.
Castiel picked up his pace, dodging nurses, interns and doctors, as well as the odd admonition that flew his way. But Dean was the sporty one, and he was relentless. Soon, he found himself out of breath and driven into a corner. Dean came up behind him, a hand on his chest, panting.
“Alright, I'll admit it,” he said. “I did think of letting you go.”
The admission rang loud in Castiel's ears, almost to the point of making them bleed.
“But not for...” He paused to catch his breath. “Not because I don't care about you anymore. Not because I've grown tired or whatever lame idea you've got. It's because... well... I thought sooner or later you'd...”
It was clear that the boy was having a hard time coming out with his reasons, especially seeing how red and bothered he was.
Dean looked him in the eye and said, despite being flustered to the point of inarticulateness, “You're way out of my league, get it? I've got lousy grades; you're top student. I'm your garden-variety, dime a dozen, ordinary jock without a clear future; you're the most unique person I've ever met who's all set to appear on the cover of Forbes Magazine. It was only a matter of time before you figured that out yourself.”
This was the first time Castiel was hearing any of this. He didn't know how to respond to it all.
“Wha...?” he said, incapable of finding any other words to clearly express how completely nonplussed he was.
“Yeah...” Dean said, scratching the back of his neck. “God I sound so desperate. I wanna die right now.”
He turned his back to the boy, ready to disappear from Castiel's life for good. So Dean thought he was worthless compared to him? How laughable. He was the one who'd been sure Dean thought he was nothing more of him than a good way to pass the time. And he'd been so entirely sucked in by his unabashed earnestness too. Maybe... maybe be it was okay to want to stay with him a little longer, even if Dean didn't see it now.
“I don't think you're ordinary,” Castiel mumbled. “I don't believe anyone is truly ordinary. But what I want to know is...” he raised his eyes nervously at Dean's back. “Will you wait for me? After Switzerland, I mean.”
Dean turned back, smiling, and stepped forward and folded his arms around him. Castiel nestled his face into the warm neck. If Dean had said it was alright to be a little selfish, then he'd gladly take his word for it and claim this little piece of him for himself.
“You're a cruel person, Cas,” Dean mumbled in the embrace. “Running away from me, testing me like that. Of course I'll wait for you, moron.”
Castiel's voice remained stuck in his throat like a knife had been pressed right up against his vocal chords, so that all he could do was swallow to lessen the sting. He had never seen any person love another so honestly, so openly and without restraint he could lose himself in it. Dean was such an idiot for picking him. But if it meant having him like this, then he wasn't going to complain.
He framed Dean's face between his hands and pressed their lips together. Dean sighed into the kiss and deepened it, holding Catiel's head firmly from behind. Castiel wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in even deeper.
perhaps
A persistent thought still nagged at the back of Castiel's mind, however. Jimmy had known on some level.
- - -
A/N: And then they had hot sex in the supply room (which I hope to describe in full in the next installment!). This is still not over. I have yet to describe how they will spend Christmas and how Jimmy is getting more and more depressed (Sam will help cheer him up) and his court penalty. BUT, there is to be more WAFF this time round.
I'm soooo sorry this took so long to update OTL OTL. RL was crazy busy and I got distracted by binge-reading a crapton of Boys' Love manga (which prolly influenced this chapter quite a lot =_=;; Is that a good thing? idek). I have a feeling this is my worst chapter yet T^T Maybe I'll scrap this or re-write it later...
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