Cheeseburgers and Pie (Chapter 3)
It’s too damn hot. When the hell did it get so hot outside? It’s October for Christ’s sake. Maybe it’s global warming. Or the first sign of the apocalypse. Or it could be nerves. Yeah, Dean’s pretty sure it’s just nerves. He’s pulling Baby out of the student lot and as he reaches to put in his favorite Metallica tape, he notices that he can’t stop his hands from shaking. Jesus H. Christ. When the hell did dating become nerve racking? Just calm down, Winchester.
He pulled the car up to the curb in front of Lisa’s dorm. She wasn’t there yet. Perfect. Just enough time to calm down and lean up against the car and look really cool waiting for her. He steps around to the other side, positioning himself in his most laid back and charming way against the passenger door panel. He’s just figured out what to do with his arms when he spots Lisa exiting her building. Shit. She looks better than Dean has ever seen her. Her skin looks tanner, tinted orange by the setting sun, and smooth, completely blemish free. Her dark chocolate hair is glistening in the late afternoon light. She flashes him a smile that’s all perfect little white pearls and her smile lines seem to frame her lips and accentuate her entire face. She’s gorgeous, and Dean’s a wreck.
“Hi, Dean.” God. She practically purred it into his ear as she hugs him. Her shampoo is vanilla and she’s wearing some kind of perfume that smells like honey. Dean’s intoxicated.
“Let’s get going.” Dean flashes her his most winning smile and opens the door to let her slide in. As he slips into his own seat she slides a hand up his thigh. The touch goes straight to his groin, but he swallows back the lump in his throat and shifts into drive.
“So where to captain?” Lisa’s making desperate eye contact with his lips, Dean muses that the look reminds him of the time he was at the zoo close to feeding time and he watched the tiger stalk some fresh steak that was thrown into its pen. Judging by the way Lisa’s hand moves from his thigh to her own, pulling up her white sundress just enough to be scandalous, yet still casual, Dean thinks ‘tiger’ is an accurate description for this girl.
Eyes flicking to the freshly exposed skin, Dean swallows hard again and tries his best to do a nonchalant shrug, “We’ll see.”
Lisa looks amused and settles back on the seat more, inching her skirt up again slightly. Dean takes the opportunity to put in some music. Then maybe Lisa won’t be able to hear his heart beating out of his chest. He picks Metallica out of his cassette tapes and pops it in. Lisa wrinkles her nose as the first few notes ring out. Shit. He turns it down until it’s just a whisper in the wind of the open windows. Lisa doesn’t seem to mind it much at that volume, but her initial reaction is still playing in his head. Well, Metallica really isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, doesn’t mean she hates rock. Nobody hates the classics.
They pull up to the little mom-and-pop diner he had seen not far from campus that first night he took his family out to pizza. Dean looks over at Lisa and gives her his most charming smile. She isn't looking at him though. She's busy glaring at the diner like its a piece of roadkill. Fuck. Dean knows by now, this won’t end well, so they aren’t meant to be. Doesn’t mean they can’t have fun every once in awhile. Dean will settle for that, he was hoping to get a solid relationship, but Lisa is hot. You don’t let a girl like this slip through your fingers. So, he brushes off her look and climbs out of the car to open her door for her. She gives him a small smile of appreciation, but then looks again at the diner and her face falls. Sighing heavily, she takes Dean’s arm and lets him lead her into the restaurant. When they are seated, the bubbly waitress takes their order. Or at least she managed to write something down while simultaneously flirting shamelessly with Dean. At one point she had even plopped herself on the edge of the table and “accidentally” fallen over into Dean’s lap. He wasn’t sure whose face flushed more, his own from embarrassment or Lisa’s from anger. Needless to say, that set the mood for the rest of the meal.
“So...” Dean starts as they wait for their food. “Big test Monday. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Lisa shrugs and looks out the window. Dean nods in response and they fall into the most uncomfortable silence Dean had ever experienced in his life.
When their food arrives, Dean pounces on his burger, taking one huge bite and mentally declaring it the best burger he has ever tasted in his life. He hears a sort of half choked noise and looks up to find Lisa staring at him in disgust, her fork half to her mouth with her salad dropping off, forgotten. Great. Dean suddenly isn’t hungry, even though he’s only had a bagel and a cup of coffee all day. They spend the rest of the meal in a heavy silence. Once Lisa has declared herself “stuffed,” even though only a quarter of her salad is gone, Dean calls the bubbly waitress over, who hands them their check. Which conveniently has her number scrawled across the bottom. Dean tears that part off and stuffs it into his pocket while Lisa is peeling herself off the vinyl seats and scrambling out of the booth. He lets her go outside and wait by the car while he pays at the register. Maybe with a few drinks in their systems things will go better. He exits to find Lisa leaning up against Baby. Oh, hell no. Nobody gets to lean on Baby but him. Dean decided right then that Lisa Breaden was not worth the effort. He tenses his shoulders and stalks towards her.
“Get your ass off my car.” He’s practically snarling.
“Fine,” Lisa drags herself upright and that’s when Dean hears it, a low scraping noise. He pulls her away as hard as he can and almost throws up at the sight before him. Baby, his precious Baby, has a gigantic scratch on it from Lisa’s purse buckle. “Hey, what the hell Dean? Let go!”
“Look what you did!” Dean’s actually snarling now. He’s put up with a lot of shit on this date. But this is the absolute last straw.
“Oops.” No. That is the absolute last straw. He knows she didn’t mean to. But not even caring after the fact. That’s an insult. Not only an insult to him, but an insult to his dad. John had given him this car, known that it meant so much to Dean after they rebuilt it together. This was his piece of home. Most kids go away to college and have family pictures, Dean has the Impala. It holds more memories for him than anything else. This was his car goddamnit. You just don’t mess with a man’s car. And you certainly don’t just say ‘oops’ when you leave a Grand Canyon sized scratch in it. Dean’s done with this shit. Shaking with anger Dean whips Lisa farther away from his car by her arm. He doesn’t hear her protests. Lisa Breaden is officially nothing to him. He drives back with the pedal pressed securely to the floorboards. He didn’t even look up into his rearview mirror to see if Lisa had bothered trying to run after him. He just needed to go home.
***
Dean pushes himself through the door to his room and scans it quickly. Castiel isn’t there. But of course he isn’t. That kid works too much. Dean takes a few calming breaths and reaches under his bed to grab the six pack he’s had stashed there since the second day of school. With that he heads over to the library to find Castiel.
Castiel is sitting alone at the same computer he had been this morning. He’s typing furiously and the single lamp lit next to him is casting strange shadows on the cubicle walls.
“Dean, you’re back early.” Castiel mumbles at the screen.
“Yeah, Lisa.... it wasn’t...” Dean was having trouble finding the right words. How do you explain to the room mate you’ve barely known that your car is your life and you turned down - no, left in a parking lot - the hottest girl at this school because she did not share your tastes? Instead of finishing his though he just dropped himself into the chair next to Castiel and sighed.
“It’s been said that audibly sighing is a sign of trouble, Dean.” Castiel was still speaking to the monitor with the best poker face Dean had ever seen. His voice though, that was something else. It wasn’t overly emotional, but his tone was concerned, like he really cared about whatever had happened tonight.
“Look, are you busy? I mean, could you stop working for a bit? I just... I need to let off some steam and drinking alone is depressing.” Dean was pleading with Castiel. He didn’t even care if he sounded desperate.
“I’m just working on something extra. I finished your paper a few minutes ago. It’s all ready if you would like to take a look.” Castiel turns now, eyes gone slightly red around the edges from staring at the screen. He’s got this look on his face that Dean doesn’t quite know how to describe. Like he’s smiling, but his lips aren’t doing anything. It calms Dean down a little more.
“Later, man.” Dean stands then and Castiel follows. As they exit the library Dean steps behind one of the bushes to grab the six pack he’d hidden there. They walk in comfortable silence along the pathways as they wind their way to Dean’s favorite spot on campus, besides his bed. It’s a pond. Slightly larger than your average decorative water feature, it has lilies along one edge and a couple trees that look like they’d been here since the Civil War. The grass goes all the way up to the banks and sometimes after a particularly stressful day Dean would stop here before the cafeteria to unwind a little and watch the wind move the lilies around. If he’s ever needed this place, it’s now. He plops himself down next to one of the large oaks and pats the turf to invite Castiel to join him. Castiel looks down at him curiously and then out at the water. He stands for a while longer, just watching. Dean watches him for as long as he can bare, but he came here to drink and complain, not stare at his room mate.
"Castiel?" Dean's voice cracks slightly under the weight of the moment.
"Apologies, I haven't been here before," his face is still stoic but Dean can hear the serenity in his tone. Castiel lets out a contented sigh as he settles himself on the grass in affirmation, "it is very peaceful."
"Yeah, I found it second week of classes and kept coming back to just... relax. Not many people seem to know it exists." Dean grabs the six pack and sets it between them. There's nothing better than opening up the first bottle after a shitty day. That first hiss and pop melt the stress tensed up in his shoulders. Then the first swig unravels the knot in his back, with every passing sip a little bit more of the day eases away. Halfway through the first bottle Dean notices that Castiel is still sitting cross-legged next to him, staring at the lake.
"Hey man, I didn't mean to drag you here. I just needed someone to listen. I had kind of a shitty night. You don't have to stay." Dean was trying his hardest to not sound like a complete girl. He wasn't sure it was working. Castiel didn’t seem to take notice though. Just kept staring peacefully out at the water. “Castiel?”
“I apologise. This place, I can’t help think my father would have loved it.” Castiel’s voice goes sorrowful at that. Dean makes a mental note to bring it up after another beer. Dean reaches for a bottle for Castiel and pops the top off of it. Castiel accepts it but doesn’t take a drink right away.
“You don’t have to drink it.” Dean’s trying to sound reassuring. He doesn’t want to be the roommate that everyone talks about. The one that gets you into trouble and pressures you into things. “I just thought you might want something to help you wind down. You’ve been working all day.”
“I am not of legal drinking age yet, Dean.” Castiel points out. Way to go, Winchester.
“Sorry man, sometimes I forget not everyone takes three years off before college. You really don’t have to.” Dean gives Castiel another small apology smile, and Castiel nods. Dean holds his hand out for the bottle back but Castiel puts it up to his nose and sniffs. His nostrils flare and his brow creases, but curiosity seems to have gotten the better of him and he slowly lifts the bottle to his lips. After a short sip, he licks his lips and seems to ponder the taste. Apparently deciding he likes it, he takes another, longer, drink. Dean chuckles at that and Castiel snaps his eyes to Dean’s and his brow creases together in confusion, and slight annoyance. “First time?”
“Yes.” Castiel whispers into the bottle’s opening as he takes another sip. “Not of alcohol in general, though. Like I told you, my family was very religious. I carried out all six sacraments open to me and took part in the Eucharist more times than can be counted. I’ve only had that, though. I suppose a sip of watered down wine three times a week doesn’t really count as ‘drinking.’”
Castiel’s rambling again. Dean smiles, he likes when Castiel rambles, it does him good to talk, “no, I guess it doesn’t. But I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell, Dean.” Castiel deadpans. For a moment Dean thinks that he’s unaware of the consequences of them being caught drinking openly on campus, let alone Dean providing alcohol to a minor. He’s about to say something about how serious this is and is just starting to think bringing his underaged roommate out here to spill his guts about his horrible date is a bad idea when he catches the small glimmer in Castiel’s eye. Castiel is messing with him. His eyes must have given away his train of thought because as soon as he stumbles upon that realization Castiel’s eyes gleam a little brighter. Smug bastard is laughing at him. Son of a bitch.
“Whatever man,” Dean can’t help but smile as he takes another slow sip of his beer.
“So, Dean.” Castiel sets the bottle he’s been nursing down between his crossed legs and stares out at the water again. “How was your date?”
“Don’t even get me started.” Dean shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face and taking another long drag off the bottle in his own hands.
Castiel tilts his head at him and knits his brow together once again, “I thought that was the whole point of this?”
“No, that’s just an expression, I mean.... God, it was awful. Lisa, man she’s hot, but, no girl is worth that much trouble! I mean, I pull up to her dorm, right? And she walks out and she’s like this glowing goddess and I’m just thinking to myself, stay cool man. But then, she gives me this smile, you know? I don’t know. I was freaking out. So anyway, I open the door and she gets in Baby,” Castiel’s brow furrows even more, “my car?” Castiel nods in understanding. “Yeah, so she gets in and tries to pull up her dress a little, show off or something. Chick’s driving me insane, so I reach for a tape and pop in some music, figure it’ll calm me down and everything.” Dean pauses to take another drink.
“You wanted to have sex with her?” Castiel deadpans for real this time. Dean sucks in a breath quickly to respond, but chokes slightly around the liquid he was swallowing. He would have never imagined Castiel just bringing that up. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, maybe it was that the kid seemed so sheltered. So innocent. Dean flushes at the image of Castiel trying to be with anyone, poor kid probably wouldn’t even know what to do, and takes a moment to recover from choking.
“Uh, yeah.... I guess.” Dean rubs the blush in his neck away and tries to focus on getting to the bad part, “but not anymore, she’s a bitch, man. She hated everything I did for her. I put on music, she wrinkles her nose. I take her to a diner, she looks at it like it’s covered in giant herpe volcanoes. I eat a burger, she looks at me like I’m eating dead puppies. Then, oh boy, Castiel, then, the real issue starts. So, I send her out to go stand with Baby while I pay and I catch her sitting on my car. Sitting on it! Like it’s nothing! I politely tell her to get off and as she does this gigantic scratch forms. Her fucking purse scratched my car! I flipped out, she flipped out, long story short I left her in the parking lot. Worst. Date. Ever.”
The entire time Dean talks Castiel stared at him, like Dean’s the messiah spreading new Word. His eyes watch Dean’s expressive hand motions, his brow creases at troubling points, and he nods whenever Dean looks to him and asks for understanding. Then when the story finishes, he turns slightly in the grass to face Dean.
“Your car is important.” Castiel states it as a fact, something that is pretty obvious from the story Dean has just told. However, there’s something about the way he says it that makes Dean want to explain. Not just about his car, but about everything.
“Yeah, most important thing in the world to me. My dad and I built it together. From scratch. Or at least mostly from scratch. My Uncle Bobby, he’s not really my uncle but he’s my dad’s best friend so he might as well be, anyway, Bobby gave my dad the Chevy when I was about twelve. It was nothing, just a hollow shell with a beat up interior. God, I loved her as soon as Bobby dropped her off. I saw her potential and so did my dad. We’ve always been into cars, it’s one of the only things we really have in common. I wasn’t doing so hot in school back then, just kind of skating by bare minimum. Anyway, my dad gets this idea, right? He says that for every week that I sit down and do my homework and really put forth an effort, that weekend I can help him work on the car. I was all for it, we started the next weekend after I brought home and ‘A’ on my spelling test. We worked on it for about three years. Would have been shorter but my dad, he’s a traveling operations manager for a chain of garages, Alastair’s Axles. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, there don’t seem to be many around here. But anyway, they’re countrywide. During the week dad would drop us off with Bobby and on the weekends, or as many weekends as possible, he would come back and we’d work on the car and stuff. Sammy, my little brother, he was never into cars, but he loved learning about them, he’d fire off question after question while we worked. He’s a real nerd.” Dean’s eyes were going glossy. Memories came flooding back from his childhood. Sammy sitting in the empty engine cavity while him and Dad worked underneath. His dad teaching him how to work the tools, how to clean out the different engine valves. Bobby making homemade chili when it got colder. Having his family around him, happy and together. “You could say that car changed my life. I’d probably have slacked off the rest of my school career, most likely dropping out to work for Bobby full time with no goals.”
“I understand.” That was all Castiel had to say. Dean looked at him and was about to ask something about his own family, but the look in Castiel’s eyes stopped him. They were sad. Too sad.
“Yeah,” Dean couldn’t think of what to say. Castiel’s eyes had him and they wouldn’t let go. Castiel seemed to notice after a while, he pulled his gaze away quickly and set it back on the water, which was now a solid sheet of gold from the setting sun.
“Your mother must be proud of your accomplishments.” Most people would have made that seem cheesy and forced. Like they didn't give a shit about your family. But Castiel sounded sincere, almost wistful. It made the truth hurt a lot less.
“I’m sure she would have been. Sometimes my dad tells us that she would have run around town, every time we did something, to tell anyone who would listen about her ‘brilliant babies.’ He said that when I first learned to crawl she immediately called all of her friends and told them. Then she walked me around town in my stroller for three days after, stopping strangers and telling them about me.” Dean was staring at his bottle and smirking when Castiel made a small noise. It sounded like a mix between a laugh and a sigh. “She’s gone now though, died when I was four.”
“I am so sorry, Dean.” Dean knows he means it. Not in the ‘I’m sorry this happened to you but I can’t really relate enough to care too much’ way that everyone else he’s ever told meant it. The way Castiel is looking at him, Dean can see that he means it with every fiber of his being. He gets a lump in his throat thinking that Castiel knows this pain.
“I know. I remember her, a little bit. I get these bits of memory that bubble up to the surface every once and awhile.” Dean’s back to staring at his bottle, peeling at the edge of the label with his fingernails. “Like how she used to make me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Or how she used to tuck me in and tell me angels were watching over me. I don’t feel so bad for myself though, I knew her a little. Sammy was only six months old. He didn’t know her at all. That’s the worst part, you know? Knowing that all his memories of her are second hand.”
Castiel doesn’t respond to that, just puts his empty bottle back and reaches for another. Dean follows suit and they both drink in silence for a few moments. Dean thinks they’ll stay like that for the rest of the night and is just starting to get used to the idea of a comfortable silence when Castiel breaks it.
“I think my mother would have been the same as yours.” Instantly, Dean’s curiosity gets the better of him.
“Is she gone then?” Dean wants to kick himself for asking, watching Castiel’s face fall even farther forms another lump in his throat. Real smooth.
“Yes, when I was eight. She was sick for most of my childhood, though. I do not recall any memories of her that do not involve her laying invalid in my parents’ bed.” Castiel’s grip tightens on the bottle and Dean watches his knuckles go white for a moment before they release. “She did try her very best. She would read to me, and play board games. It was just me in our house, my siblings were all grown up and gone by the time I can really remember much. All I really had for company was my mother. When she passed, I was alone.”
Dean can’t even form words. He has so many questions about Castiel, every answer he gets just producing more. But he’s not sure how much more he can listen to right now. Castiel’s childhood sounds, sad. So incredibly sad. It’s breaking Dean’s heart and judging from the look on Castiel’s face, it’s not doing him much better either. “That sucks, dude. But hey, you’re not alone anymore.”
With that Castiel looks at him, eyes shining with unshed tears, “Thank you.” They exchange small smiles and then Castiel’s watch beeps. “It’s time to submit your paper, Dean.”
“Oh, yeah.” Dean had completely forgotten about it. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed that the sun had set and the campus had gone silent for the night. Together they rise, Dean collects the empties and sets them back into the package along with the pair of unopened bottles. They stride casually towards the library, striking up small conversation about their courses and which professors they like. Dean learns that Castiel is pre-med, studying at this campus before moving on to the med school in Kansas City. Dean tells Castiel about his plans to get a bachelors in business and open his own garage. They go back and forth exchanging bits and pieces, but never getting into anything serious. The pond had been a little too much for both of them, especially Dean who was buzzing a little from the beer. After they send the paper, they head back to their dorm, walking in step and chatting about Enochian. Dean is just about to flop down on his bed when Castiel taps him on the shoulder.
“The cafeteria lady told me apple was your favorite.” Castiel holds out a plate with a small piece of pie wrapped in cellophane. “If I recall, I owe you a slice. From the first night.”
Dean can’t help but smile. “Let’s share. In celebration, for avoiding horrible mistakes, finishing papers, and making new friends.”
“New friends,” Castiel repeats with a smile.
Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Epilogue |
He pulled the car up to the curb in front of Lisa’s dorm. She wasn’t there yet. Perfect. Just enough time to calm down and lean up against the car and look really cool waiting for her. He steps around to the other side, positioning himself in his most laid back and charming way against the passenger door panel. He’s just figured out what to do with his arms when he spots Lisa exiting her building. Shit. She looks better than Dean has ever seen her. Her skin looks tanner, tinted orange by the setting sun, and smooth, completely blemish free. Her dark chocolate hair is glistening in the late afternoon light. She flashes him a smile that’s all perfect little white pearls and her smile lines seem to frame her lips and accentuate her entire face. She’s gorgeous, and Dean’s a wreck.
“Hi, Dean.” God. She practically purred it into his ear as she hugs him. Her shampoo is vanilla and she’s wearing some kind of perfume that smells like honey. Dean’s intoxicated.
“Let’s get going.” Dean flashes her his most winning smile and opens the door to let her slide in. As he slips into his own seat she slides a hand up his thigh. The touch goes straight to his groin, but he swallows back the lump in his throat and shifts into drive.
“So where to captain?” Lisa’s making desperate eye contact with his lips, Dean muses that the look reminds him of the time he was at the zoo close to feeding time and he watched the tiger stalk some fresh steak that was thrown into its pen. Judging by the way Lisa’s hand moves from his thigh to her own, pulling up her white sundress just enough to be scandalous, yet still casual, Dean thinks ‘tiger’ is an accurate description for this girl.
Eyes flicking to the freshly exposed skin, Dean swallows hard again and tries his best to do a nonchalant shrug, “We’ll see.”
Lisa looks amused and settles back on the seat more, inching her skirt up again slightly. Dean takes the opportunity to put in some music. Then maybe Lisa won’t be able to hear his heart beating out of his chest. He picks Metallica out of his cassette tapes and pops it in. Lisa wrinkles her nose as the first few notes ring out. Shit. He turns it down until it’s just a whisper in the wind of the open windows. Lisa doesn’t seem to mind it much at that volume, but her initial reaction is still playing in his head. Well, Metallica really isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, doesn’t mean she hates rock. Nobody hates the classics.
They pull up to the little mom-and-pop diner he had seen not far from campus that first night he took his family out to pizza. Dean looks over at Lisa and gives her his most charming smile. She isn't looking at him though. She's busy glaring at the diner like its a piece of roadkill. Fuck. Dean knows by now, this won’t end well, so they aren’t meant to be. Doesn’t mean they can’t have fun every once in awhile. Dean will settle for that, he was hoping to get a solid relationship, but Lisa is hot. You don’t let a girl like this slip through your fingers. So, he brushes off her look and climbs out of the car to open her door for her. She gives him a small smile of appreciation, but then looks again at the diner and her face falls. Sighing heavily, she takes Dean’s arm and lets him lead her into the restaurant. When they are seated, the bubbly waitress takes their order. Or at least she managed to write something down while simultaneously flirting shamelessly with Dean. At one point she had even plopped herself on the edge of the table and “accidentally” fallen over into Dean’s lap. He wasn’t sure whose face flushed more, his own from embarrassment or Lisa’s from anger. Needless to say, that set the mood for the rest of the meal.
“So...” Dean starts as they wait for their food. “Big test Monday. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Lisa shrugs and looks out the window. Dean nods in response and they fall into the most uncomfortable silence Dean had ever experienced in his life.
When their food arrives, Dean pounces on his burger, taking one huge bite and mentally declaring it the best burger he has ever tasted in his life. He hears a sort of half choked noise and looks up to find Lisa staring at him in disgust, her fork half to her mouth with her salad dropping off, forgotten. Great. Dean suddenly isn’t hungry, even though he’s only had a bagel and a cup of coffee all day. They spend the rest of the meal in a heavy silence. Once Lisa has declared herself “stuffed,” even though only a quarter of her salad is gone, Dean calls the bubbly waitress over, who hands them their check. Which conveniently has her number scrawled across the bottom. Dean tears that part off and stuffs it into his pocket while Lisa is peeling herself off the vinyl seats and scrambling out of the booth. He lets her go outside and wait by the car while he pays at the register. Maybe with a few drinks in their systems things will go better. He exits to find Lisa leaning up against Baby. Oh, hell no. Nobody gets to lean on Baby but him. Dean decided right then that Lisa Breaden was not worth the effort. He tenses his shoulders and stalks towards her.
“Get your ass off my car.” He’s practically snarling.
“Fine,” Lisa drags herself upright and that’s when Dean hears it, a low scraping noise. He pulls her away as hard as he can and almost throws up at the sight before him. Baby, his precious Baby, has a gigantic scratch on it from Lisa’s purse buckle. “Hey, what the hell Dean? Let go!”
“Look what you did!” Dean’s actually snarling now. He’s put up with a lot of shit on this date. But this is the absolute last straw.
“Oops.” No. That is the absolute last straw. He knows she didn’t mean to. But not even caring after the fact. That’s an insult. Not only an insult to him, but an insult to his dad. John had given him this car, known that it meant so much to Dean after they rebuilt it together. This was his piece of home. Most kids go away to college and have family pictures, Dean has the Impala. It holds more memories for him than anything else. This was his car goddamnit. You just don’t mess with a man’s car. And you certainly don’t just say ‘oops’ when you leave a Grand Canyon sized scratch in it. Dean’s done with this shit. Shaking with anger Dean whips Lisa farther away from his car by her arm. He doesn’t hear her protests. Lisa Breaden is officially nothing to him. He drives back with the pedal pressed securely to the floorboards. He didn’t even look up into his rearview mirror to see if Lisa had bothered trying to run after him. He just needed to go home.
***
Dean pushes himself through the door to his room and scans it quickly. Castiel isn’t there. But of course he isn’t. That kid works too much. Dean takes a few calming breaths and reaches under his bed to grab the six pack he’s had stashed there since the second day of school. With that he heads over to the library to find Castiel.
Castiel is sitting alone at the same computer he had been this morning. He’s typing furiously and the single lamp lit next to him is casting strange shadows on the cubicle walls.
“Dean, you’re back early.” Castiel mumbles at the screen.
“Yeah, Lisa.... it wasn’t...” Dean was having trouble finding the right words. How do you explain to the room mate you’ve barely known that your car is your life and you turned down - no, left in a parking lot - the hottest girl at this school because she did not share your tastes? Instead of finishing his though he just dropped himself into the chair next to Castiel and sighed.
“It’s been said that audibly sighing is a sign of trouble, Dean.” Castiel was still speaking to the monitor with the best poker face Dean had ever seen. His voice though, that was something else. It wasn’t overly emotional, but his tone was concerned, like he really cared about whatever had happened tonight.
“Look, are you busy? I mean, could you stop working for a bit? I just... I need to let off some steam and drinking alone is depressing.” Dean was pleading with Castiel. He didn’t even care if he sounded desperate.
“I’m just working on something extra. I finished your paper a few minutes ago. It’s all ready if you would like to take a look.” Castiel turns now, eyes gone slightly red around the edges from staring at the screen. He’s got this look on his face that Dean doesn’t quite know how to describe. Like he’s smiling, but his lips aren’t doing anything. It calms Dean down a little more.
“Later, man.” Dean stands then and Castiel follows. As they exit the library Dean steps behind one of the bushes to grab the six pack he’d hidden there. They walk in comfortable silence along the pathways as they wind their way to Dean’s favorite spot on campus, besides his bed. It’s a pond. Slightly larger than your average decorative water feature, it has lilies along one edge and a couple trees that look like they’d been here since the Civil War. The grass goes all the way up to the banks and sometimes after a particularly stressful day Dean would stop here before the cafeteria to unwind a little and watch the wind move the lilies around. If he’s ever needed this place, it’s now. He plops himself down next to one of the large oaks and pats the turf to invite Castiel to join him. Castiel looks down at him curiously and then out at the water. He stands for a while longer, just watching. Dean watches him for as long as he can bare, but he came here to drink and complain, not stare at his room mate.
"Castiel?" Dean's voice cracks slightly under the weight of the moment.
"Apologies, I haven't been here before," his face is still stoic but Dean can hear the serenity in his tone. Castiel lets out a contented sigh as he settles himself on the grass in affirmation, "it is very peaceful."
"Yeah, I found it second week of classes and kept coming back to just... relax. Not many people seem to know it exists." Dean grabs the six pack and sets it between them. There's nothing better than opening up the first bottle after a shitty day. That first hiss and pop melt the stress tensed up in his shoulders. Then the first swig unravels the knot in his back, with every passing sip a little bit more of the day eases away. Halfway through the first bottle Dean notices that Castiel is still sitting cross-legged next to him, staring at the lake.
"Hey man, I didn't mean to drag you here. I just needed someone to listen. I had kind of a shitty night. You don't have to stay." Dean was trying his hardest to not sound like a complete girl. He wasn't sure it was working. Castiel didn’t seem to take notice though. Just kept staring peacefully out at the water. “Castiel?”
“I apologise. This place, I can’t help think my father would have loved it.” Castiel’s voice goes sorrowful at that. Dean makes a mental note to bring it up after another beer. Dean reaches for a bottle for Castiel and pops the top off of it. Castiel accepts it but doesn’t take a drink right away.
“You don’t have to drink it.” Dean’s trying to sound reassuring. He doesn’t want to be the roommate that everyone talks about. The one that gets you into trouble and pressures you into things. “I just thought you might want something to help you wind down. You’ve been working all day.”
“I am not of legal drinking age yet, Dean.” Castiel points out. Way to go, Winchester.
“Sorry man, sometimes I forget not everyone takes three years off before college. You really don’t have to.” Dean gives Castiel another small apology smile, and Castiel nods. Dean holds his hand out for the bottle back but Castiel puts it up to his nose and sniffs. His nostrils flare and his brow creases, but curiosity seems to have gotten the better of him and he slowly lifts the bottle to his lips. After a short sip, he licks his lips and seems to ponder the taste. Apparently deciding he likes it, he takes another, longer, drink. Dean chuckles at that and Castiel snaps his eyes to Dean’s and his brow creases together in confusion, and slight annoyance. “First time?”
“Yes.” Castiel whispers into the bottle’s opening as he takes another sip. “Not of alcohol in general, though. Like I told you, my family was very religious. I carried out all six sacraments open to me and took part in the Eucharist more times than can be counted. I’ve only had that, though. I suppose a sip of watered down wine three times a week doesn’t really count as ‘drinking.’”
Castiel’s rambling again. Dean smiles, he likes when Castiel rambles, it does him good to talk, “no, I guess it doesn’t. But I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”
“There’s nothing to tell, Dean.” Castiel deadpans. For a moment Dean thinks that he’s unaware of the consequences of them being caught drinking openly on campus, let alone Dean providing alcohol to a minor. He’s about to say something about how serious this is and is just starting to think bringing his underaged roommate out here to spill his guts about his horrible date is a bad idea when he catches the small glimmer in Castiel’s eye. Castiel is messing with him. His eyes must have given away his train of thought because as soon as he stumbles upon that realization Castiel’s eyes gleam a little brighter. Smug bastard is laughing at him. Son of a bitch.
“Whatever man,” Dean can’t help but smile as he takes another slow sip of his beer.
“So, Dean.” Castiel sets the bottle he’s been nursing down between his crossed legs and stares out at the water again. “How was your date?”
“Don’t even get me started.” Dean shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face and taking another long drag off the bottle in his own hands.
Castiel tilts his head at him and knits his brow together once again, “I thought that was the whole point of this?”
“No, that’s just an expression, I mean.... God, it was awful. Lisa, man she’s hot, but, no girl is worth that much trouble! I mean, I pull up to her dorm, right? And she walks out and she’s like this glowing goddess and I’m just thinking to myself, stay cool man. But then, she gives me this smile, you know? I don’t know. I was freaking out. So anyway, I open the door and she gets in Baby,” Castiel’s brow furrows even more, “my car?” Castiel nods in understanding. “Yeah, so she gets in and tries to pull up her dress a little, show off or something. Chick’s driving me insane, so I reach for a tape and pop in some music, figure it’ll calm me down and everything.” Dean pauses to take another drink.
“You wanted to have sex with her?” Castiel deadpans for real this time. Dean sucks in a breath quickly to respond, but chokes slightly around the liquid he was swallowing. He would have never imagined Castiel just bringing that up. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, maybe it was that the kid seemed so sheltered. So innocent. Dean flushes at the image of Castiel trying to be with anyone, poor kid probably wouldn’t even know what to do, and takes a moment to recover from choking.
“Uh, yeah.... I guess.” Dean rubs the blush in his neck away and tries to focus on getting to the bad part, “but not anymore, she’s a bitch, man. She hated everything I did for her. I put on music, she wrinkles her nose. I take her to a diner, she looks at it like it’s covered in giant herpe volcanoes. I eat a burger, she looks at me like I’m eating dead puppies. Then, oh boy, Castiel, then, the real issue starts. So, I send her out to go stand with Baby while I pay and I catch her sitting on my car. Sitting on it! Like it’s nothing! I politely tell her to get off and as she does this gigantic scratch forms. Her fucking purse scratched my car! I flipped out, she flipped out, long story short I left her in the parking lot. Worst. Date. Ever.”
The entire time Dean talks Castiel stared at him, like Dean’s the messiah spreading new Word. His eyes watch Dean’s expressive hand motions, his brow creases at troubling points, and he nods whenever Dean looks to him and asks for understanding. Then when the story finishes, he turns slightly in the grass to face Dean.
“Your car is important.” Castiel states it as a fact, something that is pretty obvious from the story Dean has just told. However, there’s something about the way he says it that makes Dean want to explain. Not just about his car, but about everything.
“Yeah, most important thing in the world to me. My dad and I built it together. From scratch. Or at least mostly from scratch. My Uncle Bobby, he’s not really my uncle but he’s my dad’s best friend so he might as well be, anyway, Bobby gave my dad the Chevy when I was about twelve. It was nothing, just a hollow shell with a beat up interior. God, I loved her as soon as Bobby dropped her off. I saw her potential and so did my dad. We’ve always been into cars, it’s one of the only things we really have in common. I wasn’t doing so hot in school back then, just kind of skating by bare minimum. Anyway, my dad gets this idea, right? He says that for every week that I sit down and do my homework and really put forth an effort, that weekend I can help him work on the car. I was all for it, we started the next weekend after I brought home and ‘A’ on my spelling test. We worked on it for about three years. Would have been shorter but my dad, he’s a traveling operations manager for a chain of garages, Alastair’s Axles. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, there don’t seem to be many around here. But anyway, they’re countrywide. During the week dad would drop us off with Bobby and on the weekends, or as many weekends as possible, he would come back and we’d work on the car and stuff. Sammy, my little brother, he was never into cars, but he loved learning about them, he’d fire off question after question while we worked. He’s a real nerd.” Dean’s eyes were going glossy. Memories came flooding back from his childhood. Sammy sitting in the empty engine cavity while him and Dad worked underneath. His dad teaching him how to work the tools, how to clean out the different engine valves. Bobby making homemade chili when it got colder. Having his family around him, happy and together. “You could say that car changed my life. I’d probably have slacked off the rest of my school career, most likely dropping out to work for Bobby full time with no goals.”
“I understand.” That was all Castiel had to say. Dean looked at him and was about to ask something about his own family, but the look in Castiel’s eyes stopped him. They were sad. Too sad.
“Yeah,” Dean couldn’t think of what to say. Castiel’s eyes had him and they wouldn’t let go. Castiel seemed to notice after a while, he pulled his gaze away quickly and set it back on the water, which was now a solid sheet of gold from the setting sun.
“Your mother must be proud of your accomplishments.” Most people would have made that seem cheesy and forced. Like they didn't give a shit about your family. But Castiel sounded sincere, almost wistful. It made the truth hurt a lot less.
“I’m sure she would have been. Sometimes my dad tells us that she would have run around town, every time we did something, to tell anyone who would listen about her ‘brilliant babies.’ He said that when I first learned to crawl she immediately called all of her friends and told them. Then she walked me around town in my stroller for three days after, stopping strangers and telling them about me.” Dean was staring at his bottle and smirking when Castiel made a small noise. It sounded like a mix between a laugh and a sigh. “She’s gone now though, died when I was four.”
“I am so sorry, Dean.” Dean knows he means it. Not in the ‘I’m sorry this happened to you but I can’t really relate enough to care too much’ way that everyone else he’s ever told meant it. The way Castiel is looking at him, Dean can see that he means it with every fiber of his being. He gets a lump in his throat thinking that Castiel knows this pain.
“I know. I remember her, a little bit. I get these bits of memory that bubble up to the surface every once and awhile.” Dean’s back to staring at his bottle, peeling at the edge of the label with his fingernails. “Like how she used to make me peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Or how she used to tuck me in and tell me angels were watching over me. I don’t feel so bad for myself though, I knew her a little. Sammy was only six months old. He didn’t know her at all. That’s the worst part, you know? Knowing that all his memories of her are second hand.”
Castiel doesn’t respond to that, just puts his empty bottle back and reaches for another. Dean follows suit and they both drink in silence for a few moments. Dean thinks they’ll stay like that for the rest of the night and is just starting to get used to the idea of a comfortable silence when Castiel breaks it.
“I think my mother would have been the same as yours.” Instantly, Dean’s curiosity gets the better of him.
“Is she gone then?” Dean wants to kick himself for asking, watching Castiel’s face fall even farther forms another lump in his throat. Real smooth.
“Yes, when I was eight. She was sick for most of my childhood, though. I do not recall any memories of her that do not involve her laying invalid in my parents’ bed.” Castiel’s grip tightens on the bottle and Dean watches his knuckles go white for a moment before they release. “She did try her very best. She would read to me, and play board games. It was just me in our house, my siblings were all grown up and gone by the time I can really remember much. All I really had for company was my mother. When she passed, I was alone.”
Dean can’t even form words. He has so many questions about Castiel, every answer he gets just producing more. But he’s not sure how much more he can listen to right now. Castiel’s childhood sounds, sad. So incredibly sad. It’s breaking Dean’s heart and judging from the look on Castiel’s face, it’s not doing him much better either. “That sucks, dude. But hey, you’re not alone anymore.”
With that Castiel looks at him, eyes shining with unshed tears, “Thank you.” They exchange small smiles and then Castiel’s watch beeps. “It’s time to submit your paper, Dean.”
“Oh, yeah.” Dean had completely forgotten about it. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed that the sun had set and the campus had gone silent for the night. Together they rise, Dean collects the empties and sets them back into the package along with the pair of unopened bottles. They stride casually towards the library, striking up small conversation about their courses and which professors they like. Dean learns that Castiel is pre-med, studying at this campus before moving on to the med school in Kansas City. Dean tells Castiel about his plans to get a bachelors in business and open his own garage. They go back and forth exchanging bits and pieces, but never getting into anything serious. The pond had been a little too much for both of them, especially Dean who was buzzing a little from the beer. After they send the paper, they head back to their dorm, walking in step and chatting about Enochian. Dean is just about to flop down on his bed when Castiel taps him on the shoulder.
“The cafeteria lady told me apple was your favorite.” Castiel holds out a plate with a small piece of pie wrapped in cellophane. “If I recall, I owe you a slice. From the first night.”
Dean can’t help but smile. “Let’s share. In celebration, for avoiding horrible mistakes, finishing papers, and making new friends.”
“New friends,” Castiel repeats with a smile.
Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Epilogue |