A Good Kind of Different [Destiel]

Chapter 1

I was slammed into the wall by the bike racks out back, my collar in a clanched fist was the only thing keeping me up, my face taking a constant, repetative beating.

"You made me look like an idiot in class today, Novak! And now you're gonna pay for it!"

He struck me again. My nose was bleeding and most likely broken. My left eye was so swollen I could hardly see out of it. My vision was impaired from the blows and the fact I didn't have my glasses.  

He dropped me.

"Get up, faggot!"

And he kicked me in the gut. I was coughing up blood by now. But... it's not like this is the first time Alistair has done something like this.

"Aren't you gonna say anything, geek?!"

No.

He stepped on my shoulder and ran off. My face was against the ground. I saw a tall, broad figure approach me at a rather rapid pace. He was saying something, but I could not make it out. His feet were at my face when I blacked out.

I woke up in the sick-bay at school. My savior was still beside me. Ms. McCoy handed me my glasses. Or... the spare, at least. My real ones were busted. Her lips moved, but I did not hear her speaking to me. My head hurt.

Finally she had given me some water and ice. I could hear her now. She only stated the obvious and then she introduced me to him.

"Castiel, this is Dean Winchester."

Winchester. He's on the football team. I think he's dating Chelsea right now... but I am not entirely sure. Why is he even wasting his time with me?

"He carried you here. He said he stopped your attacker."

At least he's nice. I studied his facial profile. His features were very bold and his eyes were bright green. And... watching me.

I was now pink across the face. He probably saw me staring. I don't want him to get the wrong idea.

"Hello, Dean." my voice sqeaked out as I lousily extended my hand.

He took it and shook it. There was sharp pain in my chest and I cringed.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Mr. Winchester."

We stared a little bit. This lasted about twenty-six seconds. But it seemed irrelevant whereas it felt timeless.

He resisted and insisted he stayed with me, but Ms. McCoy wouldn't hear it. She shooed him out.

"You need proper medical attention, Castiel. Your leg looks broken along with your nose. And they need to check your head and if you have any... internal bleeding or such. Shall I call your brother... again?"

"Yes, please." My head hung down like an abused puppy. I re-adjusted my glasses and sat there helplessly.

Gabriel came to pick me up. He was rather unamused with the fact that I was so badly hurt this time.

He helped me into his passenger seat and threw papers and candy wrappers into the bag and took my bookbag.

The engine wouldn't overturn.

He tried six times before it ignited.

We made our way to the ER where they wrapped up my leg in bandages. Good thing it wasn't broken. And then they checked the rest of me. It's uncomfortable and awkward in the cold rooms. There is just this underlying... strangeness to it that you are unfamiliar with and makes you want to shrivel up and die.

We got home and Gabriel gave me some of the prescripted medication I was assigned to take orally three times a day.

Great. More medication.

I took them and felt drowsy, so I went to bed early and slept like a rock the rest of the night.

I woke up early, as I do every day, at 5:55. I'm a bit compulsive like that. I searched the desk for my glasses and shoved them onto my face.  

I used them to locate the crutch the hospital provided me with and hoisted myself up and out of bed and I dressed myself in a navy sweater vest and a light green button-up shirt. I straightened my tie and flattened out my collar.

I re-adjusted my glasses and I hobbled over to Anna's room.

I knocked once on the door frame, even though the door was cracked and it was clearly me.

"Oh. Hi, Cas! You can come in."

I entered.

"I'm sorry about yesterday..." She trailed off.

"I'm okay. It's fine."

I lied.

"Can I..." I was hesitant and embarrassed to ask "Borrow some of your make-up? ... Again? For..." I trailed off as I gestured to my face with all the marks.

"Oh."

The other word for 'I'm hurt'.  

She said this as her smile dropped.

"Yeah. Sure." She pat the spot on her bed next to her for me to sit.

I took the seat.

"I'm gonna dab some of this on... and..." she put it on her fingers and put it on the marks. It hurt but I tried to not show it.

She noticed anyway.

"Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry." She pleaded. "Now this is brush on. It shouldn't hurt much..."

She put the powder on my face and I coughed.

"There." She stated matter-of-factly.

It actually looked good. The marks seemed to disappear. Thus, I thanked her.

I walked out and slung my bookbag over my shoulders. I gathered my papers and folders that didn't quite fit in my bag in my arm without the crutch.

Gabriel offered to drive me today, seeing as my bike was left at school.

He helped me to his car as I struggled to manage my things and I slid into the passenger side.

"Hey... Lighten up, buddy. It'll be okay." He noticed I was depressed. It's been getting worse.

He tossed some skittles at me and they clacked all over the floor. I picked the ones up from my lap and looked at them in my hand. I must have been sweaty because the colours ran together and were not an attractive combination.