In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Dare Elsewhere

Dean Picks Up Cas

He was about twenty minutes into his trip when he heard the unmistakable growl of a powerful engine behind him. He stopped, sent up a prayer that the rumble wasn't a yellow Mustang, and turned around. To his relief, Dean sat behind the wheel of the giant Chevy, and he was waving for him.

"Hey. What are you doin' out here?"

"Walking home I'm afraid, thanks to Alastair," Castiel replied.

"That son of a...well, c'mon, I'll drive you."

"I don't think that would be a wise idea, Dean."

Dean frowned. "Why is that?"

"You'll smell why as I get closer."

Dean crooked a finger at him, and Castiel moved over to the driver's side window. Dean scrunched up his face.

"What the hell?" Dean asked.

"I interrupted Alastair showing off his Mustang in auto shop when I arrived early. Evidently he didn't like it, because he shot me with the grease gun."

Castiel decided to leave out the part where Alastair threatened him.

"The grease gun? Jesus, Castiel." Dean put the Chevy in park and got out. He went around to the trunk and came back with an old towel. He placed it over the passenger side upholstery and motioned for Castiel to get in. "I was wonderin' why you missed class. Why does that guy hate you so much?"

Castiel gratefully sat down. "I'm not quite sure of all the reasons specifically, but a perfectly rising spinach soufflé has much to do with my current predicament."

Dean looked over at him. "No offense, man, but sometimes I can't understand what the hell you're talkin' about."

"I was homeschooled until I was thirteen."

"Oh," Dean said, as if Castiel's comment explained everything.

"Earlier this year we had a home economics class, during which I received an A for baking a spinach soufflé. Everyone taunted me even more after that."

"They started callin' you gay." Dean made it more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, but the names they use are worse."

Dean shook his head and started the car. "You must be havin' a really hard time lately. That sucks."

"I suppose adding homosexual epithets to the already lengthy list of things they call me was inevitable." He sighed. "Ever since I started coming to school I've had difficulty fitting in. I don't have any friends."

"That can't be all true. You must have someone you talk to durin' the day."

"Well, I did, but he moved away at the beginning of freshman year. Aside from teachers, no, not this year."

"Then ever since you started junior year — "

"Ever since I began public school in eighth grade I've had problems. High school has been an entirely new, miserable experience. People hate me."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't hate you," Dean said, his voice tinged with sympathy.

Castiel met Dean's eyes when he said that.

"Yes, it does. Thank you for saying that, Dean."

"Alastair must be an extra asshole to keep doing that to you, Cas. What a dick."

Castiel smiled a little, almost to himself.

"What?" Dean asked.

"No one has ever called me 'Cas' before."

"Really? Sorry, man, I didn't mean to — "

"No, it's perfectly all right. I wouldn't mind if you called me that."

Dean looked over at him and then back at the road. "I like your name. It's really different."

"I was named for an angel."

"Huh. That's pretty cool."

"Most people don't share that sentiment," Castiel said.

"Like I said, assholes, Cas. Screw 'em. Now, where we goin'?"

"We live in the same complex," Castiel said. "You're in apartment 162, I believe."

"No kiddin'. Yeah, we are, me and my old man. How'd you know that?" Dean asked.

"I recognized this behemoth of a car parked in the lot."

Dean laughed; it was a loud, open-mouthed bellow that surprised Castiel.

"This is a '67 Chevy Impala, dude! She's a classic, a 327 four-barrel with 275 horses. She's still gonna be badass when she's forty."

Dean smiled at him, and Castiel was secretly pleased with himself for making Dean laugh like that, however unintentionally. Something about it made him feel good.

"I'll take your word for it. You certainly know a lot about cars based on your performance in auto shop."

"Good with my hands. Probably be a mechanic like my old man. He's a civilian contractor out at the naval air station. He served with the Marines in Vietnam, and I guess he never could stay too far away. He works on helicopters."

"Is that why you moved here to Corpus Christi?"

"And Arizona, and California, and Florida, and a couple of towns in North Carolina I lost track of."

"I thought you said you were from Kansas."

"I was born in Kansas. Whenever anyone asks me where I'm from, that's what I tell them. It's easier than tryin' to pick from whatever base we've been on. I can't really remember anymore. Pretty much wherever there's a Marine air station, we've lived there."

"What about furthering your education? You don't intend to pursue college?" Castiel asked.

"Nah. I'll leave that to the smarter kids, like you."

"I don't consider myself particularly intelligent."

"Then you're sellin' yourself short, Cas. Shit, you already talk like a college professor."

"I hadn't realized."

"You hadn't realized? Well, you did say you were homeschooled."

"Yes," Castiel said.

"When I said I couldn't understand you."

"Correct."

"I meant all the big words you use, man," Dean said.

"Oh. I thought you were referring to why I knew how to make a soufflé."

Dean laughed again, and Castiel's stomach did an odd little flip. He cracked a little smile back, in spite of himself.

"If you're named after an angel, does that mean you were one of those religious homeschooled kids?" Dean asked. "Or is that too personal? I don't wanna make you feel weird about it or whatever."

"No, not at all. My mother is an adjunct professor of English out at Del Mar College. She felt my education would be better served if she were the one doing the teaching. I believe she chose my name simply because she liked it."

Dean turned the corner into the complex and motored down into their section of parking lot. He found a spot and killed the engine.

"Where are you?" Dean asked.

"Apartment 174."

"We're almost neighbors."