Chapter Text
Castiel woke up feeling a hell of a lot worse than usual. He checked his colorful pill organiser to make sure that he’d taken his anxiety and depression medications, if he had forgotten it might help explain how it felt like the world was actively shitting on him. The previous day’s slot was empty, telling him that, yes, he had taken them, and that wasn’t comforting at all. He couldn’t blame the medication, or lack thereof, for his shitty mood which meant that it was all him this time. Even after all the step of transitioning he had taken, he still experienced the crushing weight of dysphoria, and oftentimes it was major. Today seemed like it was shaping up to be on the extremely shitty side, but there was so much to do that he couldn’t just stay home, no matter how much he wanted to. He had his third appointment with Dean at the Roadhouse tonight, and some essays to turn in to Mr. Lafitte that Dean had helped with. Already he felt like he had improved his writing style, his essays were clearer and he felt like his voice was coming through better.
…
After math class, he checked his cellphone, it had been going off in his pocket a lot throughout all of class. When he saw the message, he almost dropped the phone onto the hard linoleum of the hallway. His prescription for testosterone didn’t go through at the pharmacy and that meant he needed to go to the doctor, desperately, so he could sort this all out. He knew he had less than half a dose left in the tiny little bottle at home, and today was his shot day. He felt even more fucked over and uncomfortable than before. It felt like every glance he got was a scoff or a judgement, like they all knew that he was not like them and hated him for it. Cas felt sick.
At the end of the day, he decided to just go home and not worry about running today. He just wanted to take care of himself, give himself the last little bit of T he had and maybe fit in some crying. He would probably feel mostly fine this week with the half dose, but there was no way he would be next. Michael had texted Cas that he would stop by the doctor on his way home from work so Cas really shouldn’t be as worried as he is, but he couldn’t help it. The shittyness had wrapped around him too tightly to shake off now.
As soon as he got home he practically sprinted to his room, dropping his backpack on the way, not caring to see where it landed. He wanted to scream at his walls in frustration but instead he shucked off his pants and laid in bed, face down, while putting a snuggie on backwards. All the anger and frustration finally exploded from him and he started to sob into his pillow. Why couldn’t he have been born male, why did he have to get stuck in this shitty-ass female body that had to be injected with hormones once a week, and that he had had to modify with surgery to look normal and male above the waist and even then, he had scars? Why did he have to work so hard to be himself? He continued asking the question even though they only made him more miserable. Cas finally decided to pray for a few minutes, he had never gotten answers, never had been given a reason to believe in a god, and probably never would. But it did make him feel just the smallest bit better as if he was throwing the questions out into the great unknown instead of keeping them all locked up. It was enough to stop the painful tears but he didn’t get up, just laid there with his cheek pressed against the dampness on his pillow.
His quiet was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed very closely by a ring of the bell, and he decided to answer. Maybe he would deter them and whatever they wanted with his fucked-up hair and teary face so they would just leave him alone. He was already to the door before he saw his outfit only consisted of boxers, a tee shirt, and a backwards snuggie. Whatever, he didn’t care what people thought of him. He was angry that something did this to him, be it a god or a genetic fucking fluke, and he felt like shit. Definitely not in the mood for and visitors soliciting his house, but yet here someone was. Fan-fucking-tastic.
He yanked the door open with a scowl already plastered on his face only to have it slide away in shock. There on his doorstep was Dean Winchester. Holy shit , Cas thought, I had forgotten about tutoring . Dean’s grassy green eyes looked frustrated, tipping over into angry even. If he was being honest with himself, it scared Castiel, but then, underneath it all, he saw the worry etched into Dean’s features as well. The worry quickly overpowered everything else in the jade green eyes as he took in Cas’ disheveled state and before Cas had any chance at all to react, Dean took two steps into the house and wrapped his arms around Castiel. At first he was too surprised to respond, but before he could over think it, he was crying again because Dean was warm and the worn leather on Dean’s back was bunched in his hands and he couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him like this. Like nothing in the world could hurt him as long as he stayed in the embrace. Cas slowly became aware of the feeling of a light cotton shirt under his cheek, slightly damp were Cas’ tears had absorbed into the fabric as well as the softness of old denim on his bare legs. The protection and solidity and comfort of Dean’s body close to his allowed Cas to start breathing deeply, his tears slowly stopping. A chilly breeze came in through the door but he could hardly feel it over the heat of Dean that seemed to seep right through his clothes and directly into Cas’ chest. He didn’t let go. Maybe this was God’s answer. Maybe he was right where he needed to be, maybe he was doing just fine as himself.
…
As soon as Cas opened the door Dean could tell something was wrong. His face was in a scowl that looked more frustrated and upset than anything close to anger. When he got here Dean had been upset at Cas for not bothering to give him a heads up about cancelling tutoring but it quickly had turned to worry. It didn’t seem like him to skip without saying anything so Dean had decided to check up on him, hoping the entire drive that Cas was home and not dead in a ditch somewhere.
The more Dean looked at Cas, the more he could see that he had been crying. His hair was matted in some spots and standing up at odd angles in others with his eyes puffy and pink-rimmed, glistening a much duller blue than any other time he had seen him. He looked like he’d had the shittiest day ever. Dean found that he had the sudden impulse to hold him and not let go, so before he lost his nerve, he stepped forward and did just that. Maybe he did it because something about his sadness reminded Dean of so many other people in his life he didn’t have the courage to help and he was sick of not being brave enough. Or maybe it was something simpler than that, something even he didn’t understand yet. But apparently Cas needed it because after a couple seconds Dean felt hands grabbing at his jacket and Cas shaking in his arms. Dean just held on tighter, if Cas needed to cry the least Dean could do was offer his support, his shoulder.
...
Castiel thought about how terrified he had been to have Dean Winchester tutor him, about how he had begun to fall in love with him. He thought about all the happy moments in their short time together, how Dean had laughed and thrown his head back laughing like Castiel had said the funniest thing in the world after something as dumb as a knock-knock joke. How Dean smiled so brightly Cas felt like he might pass out when they shared fries at the Roadhouse. Cas wouldn’t trade those moments for the whole world and sometimes he could almost convince himself he could be happy just as friends.
He slowly felt Dean’s arms loosen around him as his breathing returned to normal and once again Cas could feel the weight of those shining emerald eyes on him. “Thank you.” Castiel rasped, voice quiet and broken, a melancholy smile gracing his lips as his gaze met Dean’s.
Dean ruffled Cas’s hair, giving a small smile in return and Cas felt his knees go a bit wobbly. Dean’s face lit up with an idea and he began to speak. “Go change, Cas. We’ve got burgers to eat and Star Wars to watch and tutoring to avoid, okay?”
Castiel nearly started crying again out of happiness when he saw Dean smile softly again, but instead, his own smile strengthened into something much closer to happy than it had been moments ago. He nods before moving to give Dean another quick hug, nearly floating up the stairs on the happiness and comfort filling him to the point of overflowing. However, as soon as he gets to his room his feelings turn sour and he can feel the loss and despair replacing the joy he felt. He can’t fall in love with Dean Winchester. It’s not right. Dean already has a girlfriend, and even if he didn’t it was just going to hurt eventually, it always does. With Balthazar had stung so much Cas didn’t think he’d be able to stand it. They’d loved each other. More than anything. But Balthazar’s family didn’t see that… They were devout Christians, they only saw their son as being ‘consumed by sin’. Their homophobia blinded them to anything else, they would never let their son lead a happy life, not with Cas being a boy. Castiel couldn’t help thinking that it really was his fault, even if he knew it wasn’t. If he could have just been normal, been the girl everyone thought he was when he was born, if he could have just lived his life as that Micah, he and Balthazar could have been together and had a chance at a life together.
After Cas was dressed and feeling a little less happy, a little less comforted, he met Dean downstairs once again. “Thank you for coming here, Dean. I really… I really needed the company.” He said, deciding not to say more, he didn’t have the courage or energy right now. Besides, that was enough, it was the truth or at least a part of it.
…
As always, the burgers at the Roadhouse were practically sinful. This time, Dean had called ahead to Ellen and ordered them, saying it was an ‘Emotional Emergency’ and of course Ellen was more than happy to accommodate. They didn’t even have to go in, Jo had run it all out to the car, giving Cas a small supportive smile that he was thankful for. They had decided to wait and eat them at home for the sake of Baby (“Do you know how bad grease is for leather?”). Dean pulled Baby up to a homely blue house in the suburbs not more than 10 minutes from Cas’ (but then again everything was 10 minutes from everything else because of how small Lawrence was).
“It’s my mom’s,” Dean explained as he turned off the car and got out, carrying the food to the door with Cas following closely. The door swung open into a bright entryway than immediately made the person coming in feel like they were coming home.
“Dean honey is that- Oh, and who is this?” Cas saw the woman who could only be Dean’s mom turn the corner and smile brightly at both of them. Her hair looked like a lighter version of Dean’s and she had the same hypnotizing green eyes and kind smile.
“Cas, this is Mom, Mom, this is Castiel. I told you about him Saturday?” He provided, followed by a comforting pat on the shoulder as Castiel’s face pinked up, wondering what Dean had told her. This just caused Mary’s smile to become even more brilliant and lovely.
“Welcome, Castiel. Make yourself at home, okay?” Mary said, pulling Cas for a hug, letting him see where Dean got his seemingly endless kindness from. Mary was like the mom he never had, the mother he had wished for all his years growing up and even now. She was bright, kind, and made an effort to make him feel like he was just another member of their family. His own mother had passed in childbirth with him, and when his depression got bad enough he started to wonder if he was even worth it. He had to make a concerted effort not to cry again with all of the conflicting emotions rolling around his head. Cas nodded into her shoulder, returning the hug. A new smile gracing his face as she pulled away, still holding him by the shoulders. “And Dean’s right, your eyes really are beautiful.” she whispered conspiratorially as she dropped her arms, smirking at Dean. Now it wasn’t just Cas blushing. Dean had noticed his eyes? And, more specifically, called them beautiful? He sincerely doubted it, but took the compliment anyway.
“Thank you very much for welcoming me into your home, Ms. Winchester.” Castiel replied with another small smile.
“Please, Castiel. Call me Mary, or mom if you’d like,” she replied. And as she starting walking back into the living room she added, “Make sure Dean doesn’t make a mess for me, will you Castiel?” Making Dean blush more before pulling a laughing Castiel toward the door to the den.
…
Mary looked up from her book and noticed the time on the clock as well as the fact that she hadn’t heard anything from the den in about fifteen minutes. She had a sneaking suspicion that was confirmed as she entered the room, smiling at her findings. Castiel was close enough to be half way in Dean’s lap, his head resting on Dean’s chest, and Dean’s arm wrapped around Castiel. They were both asleep and looked to have been for a while- the main menu on the disk was playing was looping lazily on the television. She knew that Castiel probably had a curfew like Dean did, and probably needed to go home soon. She gently leaned over and shook Dean’s shoulder, whispering in his ear to wake him.
“Dean, sweetie, it’s time to take Castiel home. I’m sure his parents are waiting for him and I would hate for him to get in trouble,” she said and left the room so Dean could wake Cas up.
Dean woke with a slow grumble, arm instinctively curling around whatever he was holding. It was only after a minute he was consciousness that he realized it was Cas he was holding. Luckily the movement hadn’t shaken Cas from his sleep and Dean tried to wake up enough to see what was going on. It was three movies later and late enough to be dark outside. Shit he hadn’t been paying attention, his mom was probably right, Cas most likely had a curfew , Dean thought. He noticed how Cas was sitting close enough to him to be nearly in his lap, curled with his head on his chest. How relaxed and comfortable Cas looked sleeping really shouldn’t have made Dean smile as much as it did but he found himself doing it anyway. He really would have liked to let Castiel sleep more, but he would hate himself for getting Cas in trouble with his parents. He knew the tone his mom had used, and it usually meant something along the lines of, “Dean, I love you, but if you don’t follow my instructions, I will ground you from your car, ” and that meant that he would need to either get a ride or bike to school or something, like Sammy usually chose to do and Dean would really rather not. He loved Baby too much to do that to her.
“Hey, Cas, it’s time to get up,” he whispered, gently shaking the other boy’s shoulder. When he didn’t stir, he decided to just carry him to the car, not letting it escape his notice how Castiel was small and light. Mary helped open the door for Dean and even gave Cas a kiss on the forehead before Dean walked him out to the Impala and belted him in, Dean couldn’t help being amazed at how heavy of a sleeper Cas was.
After he pulled up his driveway, Cas stirred at the feeling of the car stopping.
“Where’re we?” he mumbled sleepily, turning to Dean and blinking slowly, finding it hard to keep his eyes open. Then the whole night came back to him and he swung his head quickly toward the clock on the dash. Oh fuck. It was already 10:30, and he was positive his father was inside, sitting in one of the chairs facing the door just waiting for him to show up. “Fuck. My father is not going to be happy.” he grumbled, giving a sharp breath as he unbuckled the belt and reached for the door.
“I can explain for you.” Dean offered, and honestly, he wasn’t sure why. He had never done that for any girl he’d kept out too late, never done that for anyone actually.
“Come on, Cas.” he said, getting out of the car and heading up the front steps with Cas, stopping at the top and knocking sharply on the heavy wood of the door.
Just as Cas suspected, Michael opened the door, standing as tall and intimidating as possible while raising a brow at the teenagers before him.
“Castiel, you’re home...late,” his words sharply thrown at Cas before he turned to Dean with his nose turned up in obvious distaste. “And who might this be?” he asked, annoyance and threat clear in his voice. He wondered why couldn’t Castiel just listen for once?
“I’m Dean Winchester, sir, I’m your son’s tutor. He missed our appointment today, and I came by to find him very upset. I decided that he probably needed someone to hang out with, and I decided to be that person. I didn’t take him as the type of person to purposefully miss an appointment like this and I just wanted to help Cas.” Dean rambled, his face unreadable, head held high, but tense as Michael looked at him as if he was some sort of delinquent. He nearly pushed Castiel behind him when he saw Michael take on a look very similar of the one John made before he was about to lash out.
“I’m sorry, father, it won’t happen again. I was only planning on staying with Dean long enough to eat dinner and watch a film with him, as he invited me to. I did not anticipate falling asleep, which caused my tardiness” Castiel apologised meekly, able to feel the contempt between Michael and Dean and trying desperately to defuse it. “I should have asked you if I could go with him, and I am sorry I didn’t.” He quickly added on, trying not to get into more trouble than he was already in. “With the news about my prescription,” he began, trying to choose his words carefully so Dean wouldn’t figure out Castiel’s situation before he was ready, “And my feelings this morning, I just sort of buckled under the dysphoria.” He added the last part reluctantly but he knew that if he mentioned his dysphoria to Michael he had a much better chance of surviving the exchange happening between the three of them. His father, even with all his faults, knew how bad it could make Castiel feel. He tried to be quiet enough that Dean couldn’t hear what he said as he knew a quick google search would seal his fate, and he also knew he definitely wasn’t ready for that to happen. Not yet anyway. He didn’t even know how Dean felt about gay people, for god’s sake, much less gender-variant people.
Michael seemed to accept this, relaxed visibly, and simply said, “Very well, then. Castiel. Come inside, the cold is getting in,” Now Michael once again turned to Dean, but this time with an expression of hesitant appreciation, “And I believe I owe you a great thanks, Mr. Winchester. Bringing him home was noble, though I do expect that this should not occur again without me being notified beforehand.” To Michael’s instructions and obvious excusal, Dean turned and headed down the drive to leave after a quick “Yes sir” and a glance in Cas’ direction. Castiel sent Dean a reassuring smile before following Michael’s gesture for him to come inside, closing the door before Michael started reprimanding Castiel gently.
“Castiel, you know you should not mention things like that in front of company. I know you have expressed your desire not to be ‘out’ so you can live as yourself, ‘stealthy’ as you have put it, and for that to happen, you can’t just out yourself whenever you please. You need to deliberate, think about it. Charlie knows, but she knows what it means to be different, and I don’t know that Dean does. You know searching the term ‘dysphoria’ on the internet will only give results pertaining to gender for the first few pages, and more specifically gender-variant people.” His father went on for a few moments. Then his expression turned softer as he continued, “I am just concerned for you Castiel. But he does seem like a nice boy and I am willing to let this incident go. Just know that there will be consequences if it does happen again without my knowing.”
“I know, father, I figured that I spoke quietly and that Dean is tired enough that he’s not going to bother remembering in the morning to search, or respectful enough that he will decide to let me speak to him how I need to. I am very tired, father, so if you will allow me to go to bed.” Castiel finished, yawning before beginning towards his room. “Thank you for letting this go. I appreciate the leniency very much, and will not let that happen again without at least a text message.” He truly felt bad, as he could see that all his father wanted was him to be safe.
Michael knew Dean Winchester was on the soccer team, that he was a jock, that he was popular, that he was a joker and he didn’t want his son to be hurt by such a boy, but Castiel seemed comfortable with him which eased Michael’s hesitation some. “Goodnight, Castiel.”
“Goodnight father,” Castiel said, smiling timidly at his dad from halfway up the stairs.