Tell Me Your Story

Chapter Fifteen - Skipping

Dean didn't go to school the next day. He just got in his car and drove, not sure where he was going... until he passed Cas' house for the fifth time. Eventually he stopped the car across the street, watching the house and thinking. After a few minutes he came to his senses and drove off again.

Eventually Dean finally stopped in a park and sat on one of the benches. He wasn't there long when his phone buzzed.

Now how am I supposed to tell you to meet me in the closet if you aren't in the building?

Dean sighed.

Cas, I couldn't stay there any longer. Maybe the whore of babylon doesn't get it, but this is a big deal for me.

Wow. I never pegged you for a name-caller. But fine. I'll come to you. Where are you?

I'm in a park. Really not the best place.

So meet in the middle. My place?

Fine.

***

Dean was amazed by the inside of Cas' house. He'd known it was big, but... wow. After Cas had finished with him, Dean had ended up just wandering through the house. Cas' room had been simple. No posters, no plants. Just a dresser, a bookcase, and a desk. There was only one picture, and Cas had made it very clear he didn't want Dean to look at it. Dean hadn't argued.

Dean had only looked at a few of the rooms; the kitchen, the living room, and a quick peek into Cas' dad's office, before Cas was practically dragging him away. Dean left - he was clearly unwanted - and headed back to his house.

It really isn't that bad. Really, people will forget soon.

Dean clenched his jaw as he looked at his phone back in his room.

Charlie won't forget

Dean laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. What would his mom think of him now? She never would have let it get this bad. She would have known what to do. At least his dad didn't know. John Winchester would kill Dean if he knew about this. John would kill Dean if he knew about a lot of things. Dean rolled over and curled into a ball. His mind kept going to his dad, but it wasn't just him. No one would be on Dean's side. Not Bobby, not Sam... no one.

"Dean?" Dean rolled over at the sound of his name to see Sam standing in the doorway. "Bobby wants you to come downstairs. He doesn't look very happy." Dean rolled out of bed, wishing time would just stop. But it didn't, and he had to walk down the stairs to the living room, where Bobby was waiting.

"I thought we had an agreement about this. You don't skip school without giving me a good reason before you do," Bobby said. Dean stared at the ground.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just... I couldn't today," he said.

"And why is that?" Bobby asked.

"Things have been going on at school, and things got kinda bad, I just didn't want to go," Dean said.

"What's been happening?" Bobby's face lost some of it anger and turned to concern.

"It's not a big deal, don't worry about it. I'll be fine, Bobby, really," Dean said.

"Okay. But don't do this again," Bobby said.

"I won't," Dean replied. And he meant it. He couldn't run away forever. If he'd learned anything from his time with his father, it was that.