The Story Teller (Destiel)

2 | Forced Friendships

August 20, Thursday, 3:00pm

All day long, Dean had felt deep in his bones that he wanted nothing more than to head home, dive into the sofa, and watch TV, awaiting the phonecall from Bobby confirming that his beloved impala was ready for pick up. However, his feelings flipped when the last bell of the day finally did ring, and the class started to cheer and holler (not something that ever happened at any other school he'd been to). Dean curled a lip at their brash loudness, before reaching to the floor for his bag. But his hand froze just an inch above it, and images of all that had happened the last few days flashed before his eyes so clearly it was as if there was a miniature projector in his skull.

And school seemed a lot more appealing all of a sudden.

Yet he had nowhere else to go, and he was not going to be seen hanging out in the school library after hours. Not now, not ever. So he packed his stuff away and followed the swarm of students out the door, down the stairs, along the corridor, and out to the parking lot. There were plenty of parking spaces, and he crossed his fingers in the pockets of his jacket in hope that tomorrow, the impala would be in one of those spaces, waiting for him. It would definitely make Dean want to leave school, no doubt about it.

As he walked through the parking lot, hands still stuffed in his pockets, he noticed Castiel walking up ahead of him... with a girl on his arm. Honestly, he'd never even considered that a guy like him might be dating someone. He felt kind of bad actually for thinking like that. He didn't even know the dude, who was he to judge. They had their backs to them, but she was blonde, petite, and had a cute butt, so Dean had to give him credit. Go Castiel, he thought.

He didn't want to appear creepy by staring at a couple of strangers, so he looked away, but as he neared the gate, almost overtaking them, he saw the girl leaned in for a hug. Dean almost laughed at the look of horror plastered on Castiel's face as he leaned back, hands on her arms to stop her coming any closer. Damn, that was hilarious. But he bit his tongue and turned his head to begin walking home. There were hardly any people ahead of him (literally three, and the street was pretty long), which struck him as unusual. Sam had scoped the neighborhood on his bike Day 1, and said he spotted plenty of teens about.

Whilst he walked, he found himself wondering how Castiel had excused himself from the clingy blonde at school. Probably not boyfriend and girlfriend, Dean now realised. Or if they had been, she'd definitely dumped his ass after that reaction. He snorted a little. Shit, that had looked so ridiculous. Actually, now that he remembered it, it was also pretty funny when Castiel had started drawing a map on his hand as if was something he did every other day. Like, who does that?

After all his past experiences, Dean desperately didn't want another friendship. No-sir-ree-bob. They always ended, and Dean was the only one left feeling cheated and angry. Sam had encouraged him to put himself out there at this new school. A brand new start, he'd said, tons of people to choose from, he'd said. But maybe Dean wasn't like his little brother. Maybe Dean had some socialization issues that were absent in Sam. Maybe Dean was the older sibling that Dad fucked up, whereas Sam was the second chance to get things right.

Despite all of his own burdens, he was still loyal to the kid, and would go out of his way to make him happy. Always. Without question. And this time, what Sam wanted was for him to make a friend. Definitely the most selfless thing Sam had ever asked of him, yet the most impossible. A new friend, other than Jo (Sam had been very clear on that). It should be the simplest fucking thing in the world, right? Then why did he feel like throwing up even at the thought of it? He shouldn't have issues with this, he knew, and the fact that he did have issues made him so angry sometimes. He gritted his teeth as he kicked a rock along the pavement. It thumped into the front of a car before rolling off into the middle of the road.