"C'MON SAMMY! Knock that asshole out!" Dean Winchester roared from the stands at his little brother's basketball game. Some dick on the other team had just personal fouled Sam for about the 80th time, and Dean was just about ready to run out there and punch his lights out.

Ever since Sammy had made the varsity basketball team (as a Sophomore! Sometimes freakish height has its advantages) Dean hadn't missed a game. He'd rescheduled his work shift so he could make this one, and he hated to see some prick on the other team shove his kid brother around.

"Son," said a large man sitting in front of Dean. "That 'asshole' happens to be my nephew."

Dean eyed the guy. He was older, mid-forties maybe, roughly 300 pounds, and looked like the sort of person you'd avoid sitting next to at a truck stop McDonald's.

"Well your nephew's a dick." Dean sneered. He had never got the knack of self-preservation. It just wasn't in his genes.

Several minutes later both Dean and about 6 people around him who had also gotten involved in the fight had been removed from the premises. His ears were ringing and his jaw was sore, but his nose didn't feel broken. Not that the blood pouring out of it made that particularly obvious.

When he reached his house Dean saw one yellowish light was on, bleakly illuminating the kitchen window. Fuck. He thought, irrationally. Dad's home.

Staunching the flow of blood from his nose with one of his over shirts (self preservation was not a Winchester family virtue, but layers were) Dean shakily opened their kitchen door. He found the room just as empty and messy as he'd left it. No Dad. Of course not.

The only person he had to explain himself to was his stupid kid brother.

"Dean, they had to stop the game because of you! That guy said he was going to sue the school!" Sam yelled, almost as soon as he had stepped into the house. Dean couldn't really maneuver himself to respond very easily, seated on the couch with a self-administered bag of frozen french fries on his face.

"He had it fucking coming!" Dean shouted. "You were the one getting pushed around out there like a little bitch!"

"Dean," Sam ran his hands through his stupid hair that was always in his stupid face. He gave Dean that long suffering expression he'd had down since he was twelve. "That's how you play basketball! It's the ref's job to call this stuff! You can't just assault former Marines!"

"Dude was a Marine?" Dean raised an eyebrow, then laughed. "Shit. Now I feel kind of bad."

"Don't worry, it's not like you landed any punches." Sam sighed. He sat next to Dean on the couch, and Dean settled back into his seat. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes.

"So, am I suspended?" Dean asked.

"I don't think so. No teachers saw what happened. A bunch of guys on the team did though…" Sam groaned and held his face in his hands, "God, Dean, could just, stop? Please?"

"Stop what?"

"Stop stalking my life! I don't need you at every basketball game. Don't you have like, any of your own friends you could hang out with!"

Dean tensed. What had previously been an awkward silence thickened and became excruciating.

"Go to bed, Sam." He said, coldly, avoiding his brother's gaze and replacing the frozen french fries on his face.

Sam silently did as he was told, and Dean turned on the TV. Dr. Sexy MD was on, but he found that even that dreamy man couldn't hold his attention. I have friends. He fumed. Fuck you I have friends.

Dean made a point NOT to hang out with Sam and his friends the next several days, and he was forced to accept some harsh truths. First and foremost, he didn't have any friends.

How did this happen? Dean thought as he carried his chicken patty lunch tray around the cafeteria, scanning the occupants of the lunch room. I'm a senior! Where is my group? But most of the faces happily talking and eating around him were unfamiliar. Here and there he would see someone he recognized. Lisa, for instance, with whom he had had a fling a while back. But from the hideously dark glare she gave him when they made eye contact he figured he'd done something to screw that up.

There was Crowley, that weird kinda goth kid who'd sold him some weed his freshman year. But that was more a business negotiation than a friendship. Even though Crowley raised an inquisitive eyebrow when he saw Dean looking for a place to sit, Dean quickly looked down at his feet. There was somebody else he could find, surely.

But everyone had friends. All of the tables in the cafeteria were filled with happy groups of laughing, socially accepted teenagers who were cheerfully reveling in their own company and completely unaware of Dean Winchester's existence. Almost imperceptibly Dean's jaw clenched, and his swagger increased somewhat. He looked for a table, any table, that wasn't filled with functioning human beings.

Of the whole cafeteria, there was only one table that had a lone occupant.

The dude sitting by himself was pale, with dark, disheveled hair, and some seriously lovely blue eyes. He was weirdly intent with downing his hamburger. He was wearing, wait, was he wearing a tie? Before he could figure out what the hell was going on with that kid though he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey, you looking for a place to sit?" He turned around and looked into the lovely, pale face of a redhead he recognized from math class.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Anna, right?" He said.

"That's me." She smiled, and her whole face lit up. "You've been wandering around for like ten minutes. Jo and I thought you looked lost." She gestured over to where she was sitting with a very cute blonde girl who was looking him over with extreme skepticism.

"I'm not lost, I'm just looking for someplace to sit that isn't full of jerks."

"Well, you were making us sad." Jo said matter of factly. "Sit down, weirdo."

Yup. Dean thought. Still got it.

"Mr. Winchester. What a privilege to see you in class." Mr. Rollins said when Dean took his seat next to Anna in math class. It had been so long since he attended he hadn't even been able to find his notebook. Maybe he'd never even bought one for the class. Some nerds snickered at their teacher's joke and Dean felt kind of uncomfortable.

Anna just smiled at him though, and he remembered who he was.

"Less of a privilege to be here sir." Dean smirked.

His teacher just rolled his eyes and began the lesson. It might as well have been in Latin for all he could understand it. But hey, that was just more of an excuse to ask Anna for tutoring help later. Sammy thought he didn't have any friends huh? He'd make friends. He'd make FRICKIN' HOT lady friends.

Anna had that sort of pale, ethereal look about her that subliminally reminded Dean of something somebody would paint in a Rennaissance portrait. Dean's left over fast food lunches contrasted sharply with her whole wheat pitas filled with arugula and goat cheese, bento boxes, and frickin' sesame salads. He used to watch her eating them in sort of confused admiration, as she'd somehow manage to gracefully eat whatever weird, healthy, Whole Foods looking thing she had packed in her reusable lunchbox that day.

Jo's lunches were usually made up of things Dean could identify as food (zebra cakes, turkey sandwiches, Cheetos) and her conversation was of the salacious variety. If Dean misspoke, Jo would pounce, teasing him mercilessly about anything from his flannel shirts to his pouty model face, which he had honestly never even realized was a thing. Jo would frequently go off on tangents about people that Dean didn't know with Anna, who would laugh and go along with it, but somehow manage to bring the conversation back around to something Dean could participate in.

Anna would smile at Dean sometimes, like she didn't realize she was doing it.

Dean wanted to get all up on that.

As it turned out, Anna beat him to it. They'd been sitting together at lunch for about three weeks, Dean's math attendance had suddenly skyrocketed, and finally one day when he was walking with her after school she turned to face him.

"Dean. We should have dinner."

"What, now? It's three thirty!" Dean responded, brilliantly.

"Um, no Dean. Like a date dinner. Like, see a movie or something. I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh! Um, hell yeah!" Dean responded somewhat sheepishly. Dean's sexual adventures had generally been of the "make-out under the bleachers" or "sneak out the chick's bedroom window in the middle of the night variety". He'd never been asked on a date before. Anna smiled her beautiful smile at him, then kissed his cheek, totally taking him off guard.

"Good. Now I have to go drive my little brother home, but call me later ok?"

Anna waved at Dean and turned to leave. Standing awkwardly in front of her locker, staring at the floor intently and with surprising stillness, was the dark haired kid that Dean had noticed sitting by himself in the cafeteria.

"You ready to go Castiel?" Anna addressed the guy. Her tone was just a little bit too cheerful for a sibling to address another sibling. It was more like the cautious way he spoke to Sammy when he was sure something was wrong.

Castiel nodded silently and with a clean, quick movement picked his backpack up off of the floor and glanced back over his shoulder at Dean.

His eyes were blue and cold and beautiful and Dean felt sort of uncomfortable after meeting them directly.

So that was Anna's brother. Weird family.

Dean went home by himself that night, Sammy was hanging out with his basketball friends. He'd at least called to let Dean know that he'd be out though. Ever since their fight Sammy had been pretty courteous to his older brother, making sure he got up on time, greeting him in the hallways. Dean would sort of give him a douchey upwards nod when they passed, particularly if he was with Anna or Jo. He loved that he could change his brother's expression from apologetic optimism to bitchface in about .3 seconds.

They hadn't been spending so much time together.

His father was out, as usual. John Winchester had sent his oldest son an email two weeks ago that said he would be gone for three days. There had been some breakthrough with the case, he'd written, maybe the doctors would finally pay for whatever it is they had done that had killed their mom. Dean had responded with cheerful positivity, and then tried not to think about it. It wasn't going to come to anything of course, it never did, but there was no point dwelling about it. He made dinner so Sammy would have it ready when he came home, (just in case he didn't eat out with his friends) and once he was done Mr. Mom-ing and cleaning up a bit he left for work. Late shift paid better, and who the fuck needed sleep anyway?

Days passed. Dean's grades bobbed just above passing, Sam won basketball games and drank protein shakes, and Anna told her parents she was spending the night at Jo's house when she and Dean would hook up at his place.

Looking at Anna's pale, naked flesh for the first time Dean felt like he had hit the motherfucking jackpot. Hours ago he'd been standing in front of her father, wearing a suit, and basically doing the good old "lying to adults" dance he'd mastered since he was 6 years old. Anna had slowly descended the grand staircase of her cookie-cutter house wearing a sundress that looked as though it called for knee-socks as an accessory. The whole scene could have been out of a 1950s PSA about keeping your virginity. And yet, he'd hardly had time to shut the Impala's door before Anna's hand was on his crotch, her breath was on his neck, and she whispered in his year that she was horny as fuck.

The Anna who lay in Dean's bed next to him was pale, gorgeous, and wholly unexpected. Underneath her nude toned bra and (Jesus Christ) boy short panties she was all pale skin and delicate curves. He could make out the bones in her ribcage when he ran his hands up her side to feel her sweet, smallish breasts. She still looked like something out of a painting, but having a girl like that go down on you really makes one reassess the virgin/whore dichotomy. Having graceful hands was one thing, having those graceful hands gracefully manage one's dick? Um. Yeah.

Usually when Dean drove up to the house to pick Anna up she came right on out, but for some reason tonight when Dean parked his car there was no slender redhead bounding out the door to greet him. He even texted but Anna didn't appear. He put his best "nice guy" face on in case Anna's dad answered the door and went up to ring the doorbell.

The little guy answered the door.

"Hello Dean." Castiel said. "Please come in." Dean stepped into Anna's golden tinted foyer. Her family had a fucking chandelier dangling in front of their massive aforementioned staircase. It would have been impressive if you didn't know that right next door the neighbors had exactly the same set-up only in a mirror image. Once Dean was fully indoors Castiel continued his greeting. "Anna's upstairs, she's on the phone with Michael." Met with a blank stare from Dean Castiel decided to elucidate. "Our brother. In college. She told me to tell you she would be down momentarily." He spoke with a surprisingly deep voice for such a short little dude, and with an earnestness that begged for mockery.

"Do they pay you for butler duty?" Dean joked.

"No they don't." Castiel responded with the utmost seriousness. His expression was blank, which made it hard to tell if he was joking.

"Oh." Dean replied. Instead of leaving, like a normal person would, Castiel simply stood there, staring at him. The intensity of Cas's whole demeanor made it almost impossible not to meet his eyes. Dean noticed details about Cas, the way his hair was always slightly disheveled and even though he dressed like a square with jackets and ties he never really seemed to be very put together. The silence was thick and uncomfortable, for Dean anyway, and he hastened to fill it with some nonsensical small talk.

"So, you're a sophomore huh? You know my brother?"

"I've seen him." Castiel said. "He's very tall."

"Too fucking true man." Dean replied. Sammy had shot up like a bean sprout the summer between his freshman and sophomore year, far surpassing Dean's height. He hated having to look up to see his little brother's face, but it didn't change anything essential. He was still the one who took care of him.

"He seems to be a very good student." Castiel said.

"Heck yeah he is, he's going to Harvard if I have anything to say about it." Dean boasted. He would have been embarrassed if he knew how much of a mother hen he looked right about then.

"He's very handsome as well. And athletic." Castiel continued in his strange deadpan fashion. It sounded like he was describing a racehorse or something.

"Um, ok." Dean sort of smirked. "If you're so in love with him you should ask him out, bro."

Dean only had a second to watch Castiel's face flush before he heard an admonishing "DEAN!" come from the top of the stairs. Anna was standing there, hand still holding one of her flip flops as though she had been rushing to put it on a second before. Now she looked as though Dean had just told her six-year-old nephew that Santa wasn't real.

Castiel simply blushed furiously and made a quick exit, muttering something about studying.

"What the hell Dean?" Anna growled, purposefully descending the stairs towards her target, who honestly didn't know the hell what.

"I, is he mad? It was a joke!" Dean quickly explained.

Anna didn't elucidate then and there. She didn't speak the entire time Dean drove her to Steak 'n' Shake, choosing instead to stiffly stare out the window. Dean knew what it was like to get the cold shoulder, heck, he'd given it to Sammy enough times. Usually though, he had some idea what the fuck had gone wrong.

Anna remained cold and thoughtful as they were seated, only speaking to order her food. Dean sat in growing discomfort for another ten minutes before she addressed him.

"Dean, Castiel just came out to the family three days ago." Anna said flatly, over a banana milkshake.

"What?" Dean almost choked on his burger. "He's, Cas's gay?"

"Apparently. And he made us promise not to tell anyone." Her brow darkened and she squirted some ketchup on her plate with unnecessary violence. "Damn it Dean, it's been hard enough on him already."

"I didn't know!" Dean responded. "I had no idea!"

"But you made a dumbass gay joke in front of him Dean! What were you thinking?"

"That he would laugh at it and move on with his life!" Dean felt he was getting some unjust blame here. "Dude, if you'd just been cool about it it wouldn't even have been a big deal!"

All that Dean saw when he looked at his girlfriend's face at that moment was impending doom. She was shaking with anger, and didn't seem to be able to speak. Dean imagined if somebody had said something like that to Sammy. He backed off.

A thought occurred to him,

"Hold on, does he really have a crush on Sam?"

"I don't know Dean! He doesn't feel comfortable talking about it. But don't you get it?" There was a tremble in Anna's voice now, "Now he thinks that I told you he was gay and that you think that its something embarrassing."

"Fuck." Dean muttered.

"Do you?" Anna asked, and her voice was dead and cold enough to give Dean goosebumps.

"What?"

"Think that it's bad to be gay?"

"What? Anna! No! Of course not!" He glanced at his girlfriend with some desperation. Anna continued to sip on her shake without looking at him. "I'm not a homophobe! Cas can run after chicks or dudes or whatever he wants. I don't care."

For the first time since Dean had made the joke (It was a JOKE for the love of God!) Anna's expression softened slightly. Dean took his chance.

"If he's going after Sammy though, you'd better warn him, I found some porn on the kid's computer a while back and Casa Erotica 4 is about as hetero as you can get."

Anna's expression shifted from cold anger to vague annoyance and disgust.

"Just saying." Dean continued, popping a fry in his mouth. "He might be barking up the wrong tree there."