Destiel Being Noticed

Chapter 4

Castiels POV
"Castiel," Michael calls me.
I sigh before turning around and walking towards what Michael has claimed as his 'office'.
I knock as I come to the doorway and hear Michael sit before calling me inside.
"You wanted to see me?" I ask timidly standing in front of his desk, hands clasped in front of me.
"Who was that boy that was here?" Michael asks a hint of disdain lacing his words.
"He's my history partner," I tell him shifting nervously from foot to foot.
"I didn't asks what he was Castiel, I asked who he was," Michael says impatience filling the room.
"His name is Dean Winchester," I say dropping my gaze to the floor.
"Why exactly was he here?" Michael asks standing from his chair to walk around the room.
"W-we have to work on our history project together after school," I explain, trying to follow him with my eyes as he travels behind me.
"Nothing else better be going on but your history project Castiel. Do you understand?" Michael asks his breath hot on my neck.
"Yes sir," I say weakly.
"You're dismissed," he says walking curtly back to his seat.
I nod my head and exit the room quickly, letting out a breath of air I hadn't realized I was holding when I got out. I made my way shakily back up to my room and got ready for bed. When I finally lay down under my blankets I remember how Dean had been laying on my bed earlier today and sigh, knowing my dreams are going to be haunted by him.

Deans POV
Leaving Castiels house and driving back to my own, I hope my father isn't there. I'm too tired to try and stop a fight from erupting tonight and all I can think about is how harsh I was on Cas and his belief. I had basically told him to shove his own religion up his ass and he hadn't defended it or himself for believing in it. I felt like a jerk but decided not to dwell on it too much and instead talked to Sam.
"So, you like Gabriel?" I ask him.
"Yea, he's really cool, he made me laugh harder than I have in a while. It was fun," Sam says smiling.
"Well I'm glad your making friends, god knows you need them. What with your head always buried in a book I can barely get a decent conversation started with you," I say playfully nudging his side.
He swats my arm away and gives me his infamous bitch face as I laugh and turn up the musics volume, humming along to the lyrics of Metallica.
I'm glad Cas let me bring along Sam today, I wish I could've heard him laughing, it's been a while since I have and I'm sorry I missed it. Gabriel had seemed pretty excited hearing that someone was there to hang out with him so I'm assuming that he is just as lonely as Sammy has been.
Parking the car in the driveway I cut the engines soft purr and open the squeaky door, leading the way up the steps and into the house. I'm lucky tonight, when I walk inside I find our father passed out on the couch, snoring loudly his arm hanging off, resting against the stained carpet.
I signal Sam to be quiet and slowly make my way up the creaky stairs, avoiding the third step from the top, knowing it sounds as if the house is about to fall apart and enter my room. Leaving my door open in case I need to hear Sam I strip out of my clothes and crawl under my thin blanket, I hear Sams' door click shut and close my eyes, hoping for a good nights rest.

A small creak from inside my room at the head of my bed has my eyes shooting wide open. It's still dark out and my eyes strain to adjust to the darkness, slowly sitting up I begin to make out a dark figure standing 10 feet away from my bed. They're breathing deep heavy breaths and I reach over flipping on the lamp on my small table. Light floods the room, blinding me for a moment before I realize who's in my room with me.
"Dad?" I ask cautiously, noting the red lining his eyes from drinking.
His jaw clenches, his fist twitching by his side. He's angry, at what I don't know but I know that I'll have to pay the price.
"Dad, please. Not tonight, Sammy's sleeping," I say hoping to break through his drunk haze and keep his temper from exploding.
"Get up," he whispers. He doesn't sound angry, he sounds calm and that scares me even more.
I slowly shake my head no, gauging his reaction. His eyes turn to slits and he grinds his teeth.
"I said," he grabs my arm ripping me from the bed, "get up."
I crash to the floor, not able to regain my footing on time to stop him from lashing out at me. His booted foot collides with my stomach and I'm sent flying into the wall. Black dots begin to cloud my vision and I struggle to breathe. Pushing myself up I support my back against the wall, trying to plant myself to the ground.
"Dad," I croak out, "please."
My head whips to the side, reopening my lip from yesterday and I see blood fall to the floor, my head pounds as I screw my eyes shut, almost falling to the floor again. So far I haven't made a sound, just crashes from when I hit the floor, I know as soon as I let out a sound of pain or weakness he'll leave me alone, but I don't want to wake Sam. Keeping quiet I endure several more hits from my father until I'm seeing stars. I'm on my knees now, wobbling, trying to stand back up, he grips my hair ripping my head back, looking at me with emotionless eyes. I stare back at him and finally let out a strangled moan, he then drops me to the floor, leaving my room as quietly as he'd entered it. With only a creak to alert me.

Castiels POV
It's Friday today and I can feel every nerve in my legs ready to jump up at the sound of the bell. I haven't gotten to see Dean at all today so I wonder if he's here, if we are still planning to work on the project today. We still have a lot to work on and I don't even know how we are going to begin to start. Just 1 more minute, I think glancing up at the clock my knee bouncing excitedly. The teacher drones on until the very last seconds begin there countdown and when the bell finally sounds I bound up from my seat, hearing his voice shouting out last minute instructions. I scan the moving crowd for Dean or even Sam and manage to catch a glimpse of Deans leather jacket rounding the corner to exit into the parking lot. I'm really hoping he hasn't forgotten about today, I'd be embarrassed beyond belief to show up next to him and have him not remember at all. I dismiss the silly thoughts from my head and follow after the leather jacket, exiting the doors and finding the black impala. I smile as I see both Sam and Dean leaning against the car, looking around for what I hope is me. But when Dean turns his head and spots me, waving me over, my smile falls. It looks as if he's just been attacked by a cement wall, dark bruises stain his cheek bones, cuts litter his forehead, and as I get closer I see his lip is split open, a small amount of blood spilling from it.
"What happened to you?" I ask as soon as I approach them.
"It's nothing, just a misunderstanding with a couple of guys," Dean says winching when his lip opens up.
"This looks like more than a little 'misunderstanding', you look like you fought with a jack hammer and it won," I say concern stretching my face.
"Don't worry about it Cas, I'm fine. Now come on, we gotta work on the project today," Dean says opening the cars door and sliding inside. I sigh and open the back door, letting Sam have front this time.
After several minutes if driving we arrive at Sam and Deans house. It's not much but at least it's more sturdy looking than the rest we past. It has old brown wood, small stone steps leading up to the door and I dare to imagine what the inside will look like. I'm not judging Deans living conditions but i must admit I'm used to nicer things.
"It's....nice," I say once we enter the house. The living room carpet, stained from previous years.
"Cas, it's crap, but hey at least it's not the street," Dean says dropping his bag to the floor.
"Have you cleaned your injuries?" I ask, moving the conversation elsewhere.
"Haven't had time," Dean says walking to the kitchen. I trial after him and Sam skips up the stairs.
"You'll get an infection if you don't clean them. Where's your parents?" I ask and Dean chokes on his water.
"Doesn't matter," Dean says regaining his breath and I assume he's answering my question, not retaliating my comment.
"Where's your first aid kit?" I ask him.
"Cas, I'm fine really," Dean says throwing me an annoyed glare.
"No offense, but I'm not working on the project until you clean your injuries," I say standing my ground. I don't know why I find it important for him to clean them but I do, it will make me worry less that he'll be hurting while we work on the project.
"Jesus, alright," Dean says throwing his hands in the air retrieving the kit from under the sink.
" But since I didn't want to clean them in the first place I'm not going to," he says setting it down on the coffee table between us.
"Fine then, I will," I bravely say flipping open the container. Rummaging through I find neilsporn, some bacteria wipes, hydrogen peroxide, and q-tips. I know he won't want to put bandages on his face so I don't bother grabbing any.
"Sit still," I say, sitting on the edge of the coffee table between Deans legs. I slowly pour the carbon peroxide into its lid and dip a q-tip in it, letting it soak for a few seconds before dabbing it into a cut below Deans eye. He winces when the alcohol gets in his cut but doesn't say anything as I clean the rest of them. Taking the bacteria wipes I wipe once more along the cuts, removing any excess alcohol and blood. Then I begin to apply on the neilsporn, sliding my finger as gently as possible along each cut. I slightly wish I could kiss each one as I went but push those thoughts away. In only helping him because he's my friend and he is too stubborn to do it himself. Is Dean my friend? I wonder yet again if he will talk to me once this project is done. Once I'm done cleaning I put everything back in its place and turn towards Dean. He clears his throat uneasily before saying,
"Thanks Cas."
"Your welcome, now the project?" I ask moving to the arm chair across the table.
"Yea, right the project," Dean mumbles pulling out a piece of paper.