Author's Note: Thank you SO MUCH, all of you who read this story and especially those of you who reviewed! You're all great, and you don't know how much your encouragement is appreciated.

In researching music for this story, I ran across several wonderful fanvids on YouTube. I was going to end each chapter with a suggested fanvid to look up, but just ran out of time. So I'd like to suggest just two of these fanvids, both Destiel; if you haven't already seen them, I'd STRONGLY recommend that you take a look.

There are a LOT of "Supernatural" fanvids set to the song "Savin' Me" by Nickelback, but ExplainMe's "Savin' Me (Dean/Castiel)" is particularly well assembled. And Sakuri69's "The Epic (and Somewhat Abusive) Love Story of Cas and Dean," set to Ludo's "Love Me Dead," combines perfect clips for the lyrics with humor and masterful editing.

"Supernatural" is copyrighted by Warner Brothers Entertainment, Inc.

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The other three looked over at Cas, who was standing in the doorway – about the only spot left in the half-room.

Cas was looking directly at Dean. "Are you all right?"

Dean hesitated, then simply said, "Yeah, thanks. Thanks. Um – Dad, this – " He extended his hand toward the newcomer, then dropped it – "this is Cas. He's a friend of Sam's. From the scholarship hall."

"A friend of Dean's, too," Sam said, looking at each of the other men in turn.

Cas gave Sam a smile. "Obviously you don't need visitors."

"I was just about to leave – Cas, is it?" John said, taking a couple of steps toward the door. "Come on in." He turned. "Jess, it was nice meeting you. Hope to get a chance to know you better."

"Seeing as how I'm never letting Sam out of my sight again, you probably will," Jess said, still sounding a bit shaken.

John chuckled. "I'll be back in a few hours, Sam," he said, and departed.

Jess smiled weakly at Cas. "You're the one who works at – "

Dean went to Cas and embraced him. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, stroking Dean's shoulder gently with one hand.

Jess raised her eyebrows, her expression registering sudden realization. Sam looked up at her, and seemed to realize that no explanation was needed.

Dean released Cas, but kept one hand on his back, looking a little embarrassed. "Sorry I woke you up this morning. Didn't realize it was 5:30."

"I was glad you called."

"Yes," Jess said, looking at Sam meaningfully. "I would have been glad to get a call."

"Five-thirty this morning, I was under heavy-duty sedation," Sam told her, then looked at Dean. "The question is, why were you awake at 5:30?"

Dean shrugged. Cas said, "He couldn't sleep. He kept waking up with nightmares about shooting people."

"Pretty crazed," Dean said, looking wryly at Sam. "Some of 'em I shot Azel, some of 'em I shot you, some of 'em I got shot. They were too fast to really track. About every third one woke me up. Good times."

"Damn, Dean! Why didn't you tell me or Dad?"

"Compared to what's going on with you? A few nightmares is nothing."

"All the same," Cas said, "I think you should talk to someone at the Health Center about a counseling session. Or maybe see if the police Victim Services have someone."

"I'm not a victim."

"You walked in to see your brother beaten to a pulp, and then you were forced to shoot someone to save Sam from further injury. You should talk to someone about this, at least once or twice."

"I second the motion," Jess said.

"I third it," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I think you two should be alone. Cas, you want to – I know you just got here – "

"I think we'd be leaving Sam in good hands," Cas said with a smile. "Sam, do you need anything from your room?"

"Dad and Dean brought my laptop – Yeah, 'The Picture of Dorian Gray.' It's on my desk. I can finish that, and by then I'll feel like hitting some of the other books."

"I'll bring it tonight. Nice seeing you again, Jess."

"Nice seeing you, too," she said, and finally sat in the chair Dean had provided as Dean and Cas left. She turned to Sam, still holding his hand. "Now. Exactly what the heck happened?"

Dean and Cas were approaching the Impala in the hospital parking lot when Dean said, "Are you done with classes for the day?"

"I am if you need me."

Dean shook his head, opening the driver's door. "I'm gonna go home and crash. I think I'll really be able to get some sleep now."

He got in, leaned over to unlock Cas' door, and Cas got in. "Well, call me if you need anything. Classes seem kind of unimportant, comparatively."

"Tell me about it. I'm takin' today off, but I'm going to make myself start back to class tomorrow, and I'm not sure how much I'm gonna be able to concentrate."

"Probably not much," Cas said. "Just do what you can do. You've been working all the rest of the semester, I don't think you'll blow your grades just because your next-to-last week was – "

"Surreal," Dean said.

"Yes."

"I'm going to tell Dad."

Cas looked at him. "Good."

"I mean, in the next few days. Before he leaves town."

"Will he be able to handle that, and Sam, too?"

Dean pondered for only a moment. "He'll have to. I felt rotten just now, Cas. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"When you walked in, I wanted to grab you, say thanks for helping me this morning, tell Dad how great you are. And all I did was stand there and tell Dad you're a friend of Sam's."

"I understood."

"Yeah, but you weren't there when Jess came in. She ran over to Sam, tried to hug him as much as she could, held his hand the whole time. You heard her tell Dad, 'I'm never letting Sam out of my sight again.' Meanwhile, we're standing there not looking at each other. Because I'm a coward."

"I wouldn't say coward."

"I would. I'm telling him soon, Cas."

Cas nodded, but slowly. "You know how much I'd be cheering you on, normally. But I'm – if your dad – doesn't react well, you'll have two crises to deal with in one week. Are you really up for that?"

"You gonna stand by me?"

"Of course."

"Then I'm up for it." Dean started the Impala, and the tension in his face relaxed a little at the roar. "Where's your next class?"

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This was part of a story in the University Daily Kansan on Tuesday, May 3rd:

On Monday, the same day that he was released from Lawrence Memorial Hospital, Associate Professor of History Arnold Z. Azel was arrested and charged with assaulting Wichita freshman Sam Winchester.

Azel had sustained a gunshot wound in a confrontation at his home involving Winchester and Winchester's brother, Dean Winchester, Wichita junior. Azel remained overnight in the hospital and was met by Lawrence and KU police officers with search warrants when he arrived home Monday.

Officers removed several filled evidence boxes from Azel's home. According to a source close to KUPD, the search stemmed from a 911 tape that recorded at least part of the confrontation.

The source also stated that further charges against Azel could be expected.

.

At about 5:30 on Thursday afternoon, Sam was sitting up in bed, though the tube was still in his chest. There was more color in his face in both good and bad ways – less wan and pain-pinched, but the bruising was truly spectacular.

"What I don't understand," Sam said, "is – what was the shiny thing he was keeping in the desk? I'm pretty sure he had the branding iron there, from his face when I suggested it. But Rita said he took something like a diamond out of his pocket. And took it down there. What was that?"

John, looking fifteen years younger than the night he'd arrived, sighed. "This is how it's going to be when you're a lawyer, isn't it? You're going to let your old man talk to the local PD and then pump him for information?"

"Of course."

John grinned a bit. "Well, seeing how they wouldn't have the evidence if it wasn't for you – But again, you don't discuss this with anyone."

"Got it."

"Not even Jess."

"Not even Jess."

"He took jewelry from his victims, trophies. They think he'd carry it around with him for a while, then at some point – they don't know if it was soon afterward or only when he started planning the next crime – but then he'd put the previous trophy in the desk. They've done well getting identification of the jewelry from the girls so far."

Sam gaped. "But then – they've made the case!"

John looked noncommittal. "If his lawyer gets the 911 tape thrown out, the evidence will go with it. But, just in my personal opinion, I think the prosecution has a pretty good chance."

Sam's gape turned to a huge smile. "If you think they have a pretty good chance, they can stick a fork in him."

"We'll see," John said. He leaned forward a little. "Tell me about Rita."

Sam shrugged, as best he could. "You know. She's Arnie's daughter. We dated."

"And she told you that her father was keeping valuables downstairs? Is she just a trusting soul, or were you two close?"

"We – I – " Sam shifted a little, avoiding his father's gaze. "I think I was as close to Rita as you could get to her."

"Ah."

"She was pretty messed up. Which, now that I know her father's a sociopath, that explains a lot."

"I suppose it does. Still, I have a hard time understanding anyone who discovers the identity of a serial rapist and doesn't – Even understanding that it's her father, just for the sake of girls her age, girls like her, you'd think she'd at least give the police an anonymous tip."

Sam shook his head. "A guy gave her a black eye once. I told her to go to the police, and she refused to do it, she just broke up with the guy. I told her he'd do the same thing to other girls, as long as he kept getting away with it. She just said, 'Other people have to take care of themselves.'"

"She must've been pretty hot stuff."

"Um – why do you – "

"Just so completely opposite of your approach to life. There had to be some reason for the attraction."

"Yeah, I – you know – she was – "

John took pity. "Jess seems to me more like someone you have some things in common with."

"Actually, yeah."

"So," John said, "if I'm a little more – reachable in the future, you think there's a chance that you might tell me more about the important people in your life?"

"Yeah. That's fair."

"Hey," Dean said, walking in. "How you doin', Sammy?"

"I hurt. Trying to wean myself off pain meds. Other than that, OK."

"You're not getting out of here until your lung heals up, so you might as well take the meds."

"Right. You'd be doing the same thing if you were here."

Dean hesitated. "True. Well, I saw the dinner cart down the hall, so it's time for Dad and me to get going."

Sam moaned. "Will I ever eat real food again? Ever?"

John laughed heartlessly. Dean said, "If you quit whining I'll bring you back a piece of pie."

"Apple?"

"If they got it."

"OK." With a sigh (and then a wince from the deep breath), Sam picked up a textbook. "Have a good time."

Once in the Impala, Dean leaned over to unlock the door for his father, then sat back and gripped the steering wheel with his left hand as if it were a source of support while John got in.

"Did you forget something?" John asked after a moment's silence.

"No. I was just thinking. I have something to tell you, and I think I should do it now. Then if you want to have dinner separately, I can drop you anywhere you want to go."

John's expression indicated that he didn't think he was ready for any more shocks, but his voice sounded almost casual. "Something about shooting Azel?"

"Oh. No, this is about me. It's a personal thing. I wanted to – Well, that's a lie. I wanted not to tell you before now. But lately I decided it's worse not telling you than telling you. I want to be honest with you, Dad. And not a – not be a coward. So. I'm gay. And, well, that's it."

John looked at Dean's face for a moment, his expression unreadable, then he shifted his gaze to look out the car's windshield.

"Sorry to hit you with that when you've been worrying about Sam. I was – When you finally start being honest with people, you, it's kind of like a flood, you can't stand the idea of being honest with some people and not with others. Especially when it's people you love. Your dad."

John nodded, still not looking at Dean. Dean gave him a moment, rubbing a fingerprint off the inside of a window.

"How – " John cleared his throat. "How long?"

"Basically my whole life. Well, you know, since I started being – aware of stuff."

John nodded again.

"Are you – all right?" he asked after a moment. "Happy, even though – "

"I'm very happy, Dad. The only thing I'm worried about is if you're OK with it."

John looked at Dean directly, his expression baffled. "I don't really know if I'm OK, I'm – You just don't seem – like that."

"I, well, I am."

John shook his head, looked out the window. "I know it's not politically correct, but I'm having a hard time. I don't, I don't like to think about – "

"Then don't. Do you spend a lot of time thinking about Sam being with Jess?"

"Well. No. That's a good point. Homosexu – Gayness, it seems – different. Kind of throws everything off in the way I think."

Dean cocked his head, and for an instant looked like Cas considering a response. "Well, it – I kind of understand why. But it shouldn't seem so different. Sam's found a great girl that he loves. I've found a great guy that I love. We're both gonna – "

"You have?"

John's tone was sharp enough that Dean looked surprised. "Yeah. I have. That's one of the reasons why being in the closet kind of isn't an option for me anymore. For one thing, the way he put it, he values openness. For another, I'm so proud of him and so, so stupidly lucky to have him, there's just no way I could keep lying to everyone. I want him to be with me, I want to be with him, all the time. Eventually I want us to live together. You know, you go everywhere with someone and live with him, people are gonna figure out the situation. So – You were gonna know sooner or later, Dad. This is basically a short cut, telling you."

"But – this – person – Is he the one who – convinced you – "

A pause while Dean worked on it, and then he roared with laughter, putting a damper on it quickly. "Did he convince me I'm gay? No, Dad. No. I tried denying it to myself for a long time, but basically I've known since I was twelve. It was just a question – " he smiled reminiscently – "a question of saying it to myself. When I did that, I started being able to say it to other people."

"Did you tell Sam?"

"Yeah, but it turns out he's known for a few years. You remember finding a bunch of research about gay people on his desk?"

John looked baffled. Then his jaw dropped as a memory came to him, and Dean tried to stifle his laughter again.

"I was worried," John said helplessly.

"Well, good news, Dad. You don't have to worry about either of us."

John nodded.

After a moment, Dean said, "So – do you want – "

"You, you take precautions? So you don't get – sick?"

"We both do. But we're both healthy, Dad, and we're in an exclusive relationship."

"Mm. You're sure."

"I'm not gonna push this on you right now, Dad, but later I really want you to get to know him. You're going to feel a hell of a lot better."

"Well." John nodded, looking out through the front window again.

"So, do you, do you want me to drop you off somewhere? Or – "

"Why? We're going to dinner, aren't we?"

Dean grinned. "Guess we are." He started the engine.

"I love you, son," John said, still looking out the window. "Nothing changes that, you know."

His hand on the gearshift, Dean went completely still as he blinked hard a couple of times. A tear rolled down his face. "Love you too, Dad."

John nodded.

Dean took a breath, blinked again, and put the car in gear.

.

This happened on Saturday, May 7th:

Sam gave a final wave as John's car turned the corner at the end of the block. Dean rested a box on the edge of the Impala's open trunk so he could wave too, then put the box in with a couple of others, and closed the trunk. He slid into the driver's seat and looked at Sam, who was easing himself into the passenger side. "That's it. If I find anything else, I'll run it over to you."

"I really appreciate your taking my stuff out of your house." Sam pulled the door shut slowly but securely. "I really think I could've taken a box."

"Maybe, but the doctors and Dad both said no."

Sam looked rebellious as Dean began the drive to Schuyler. "Well, when we go back to Wichita, I'm going to help with the loading, at least a little."

"It's not that big a strain, Sam. And I won't be loading up my own stuff, so there won't be that many – "

"Why not?"

"Oh. Told Dad, forgot to tell you. I'm going to drive you home after finals and stay for a week, then come back here over the summer. I'm gonna keep working at Bobby's, maybe get another part-time job. Cas'll be working too. We're going to look for an apartment."

"Well, just make sure it's near the hall."

"Yeah, I'd say I'm sorry about taking your friend away, except I'm not."

"No, you. I want to see you once in a while."

"You do?" Dean flashed him a quizzical smile. "You mean, like without bringing someone else along?"

Sam looked a little embarrassed. "You know, as much as I've always admired you, the last couple years it was hard to talk. You're the one with the social skills and all the friends and the wisecracks. I'm basically a nerd who plays soccer. What do I have to talk to you about? What I learned about light refraction in class that day? If Dad and I disagree on something, I know you're gonna take his side. And then the last few years, watching you date girls you had no interest in and talk like this big stud – I understood why you did it, believe me. I did. But it was embarrassing all the same. It was like watching my fantastic older brother kind of pander and grovel to society."

Dean, braking at a stoplight, shook his head a little. "I cannot tell you how differently I see the whole thing. I just figured, you're smarter than I am, you're on a different track, you're not gonna be interested in what I have to say. I thought that was why you were such a fan of Azel's. He could talk on a higher level than most people."

"You know, I – Well, wait. First. Any time you want to drop the I'm-just-a-big-dumb-lug shtick, feel free. I don't know if that's part of the straight-stud routine or what, but you could talk on as high a level as you wanted to. There's not that damn much difference in our tracks, OK?"

"You sound like Cas," Dean mumbled.

"Well, good for Cas," Sam retorted. His voice became less challenging. "And Arnie – Azel – I did a lot of thinking about this in the hospital. I was trying to figure out, how could I put so much faith in someone like that? At first I thought it was what you said, that he talked so well and seemed so confident in his ideas. But then I finally had to admit: It was because, you know, he flattered me. Kept saying how remarkable I was for understanding what he was saying. He kind of implied that I was one of the people – Well, he made me feel exceptional. Like I could handle anything. And I was so scared, with MA15 knowing where I lived and sending me stuff, it really helped to draw on that feeling. I'm exceptional. Nothing can get me."

Dean pulled into a parking space behind Schuyler, turned off the car, and turned to stare at his brother. "What the hell, Sam? You are exceptional. Always have been. Why'd you need Azel to tell you that?"

Sam shrugged and looked away. Dean raised his eyebrows and let the silence stretch out.

"Didn't feel like it," Sam said at last. "About the only way I can get Dad's attention is to have a fight with him. Even if you're smart, there's always someone who's smarter. And you know, academics and soccer aren't everything. I don't know. I kind of always felt like I was faking it, like someone was going to figure out what a fraud I was sooner or later."

"Sorry, man. I was clueless. You know, I kind of remember Dad taking more of an interest, not burying himself in his work so much, before Mom died. And Mom was great. You got screwed. There was never anyone around encouraging you."

Sam looked directly at Dean. "I wouldn't say that. Yeah, we may have been in competitive-brother mode most of the time, but I remember a lot, a lot of nights, where you made dinner and made sure I finished my homework. You were the one who helped me not to be afraid of the dark. You were the one who told me that 11-year-olds don't get to watch adult movies on cable."

Dean laughed. "Good for me. Of course it was totally hypocritical, 'cause when you were 7 or 8, I'd pack you off to bed and watch it so I could tell everyone I was watching dirty movies. They never really grabbed me, though. After a while I figured out why."

Sam chuckled.

Then he said, "Well. We can only postpone unloading the trunk for so long. And I'm going to take a box up, like it or not. Give me a light one, I'll be OK."

"We can postpone it for a while more. Cas called, told me he had something he wants to show us."

"I don't want to see anything Cas has to show you."

"Us, I said us. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"My mind?"

Ribbing each other and laughing (Sam wincing as he laughed), they made their way through the hall's lobby to the door that led to the basement.

"Great, Dean," Sam said, looking down the staircase with apprehension. "All that concern for my welfare goes out the window the moment Cas says, 'Come downstairs.'"

"Deal with it, Samantha. You were the one who was going to take up a career in moving with three broken ribs."

Dean galloped down the stairs ahead of Sam, who, looking disgusted, descended the stairs carefully with a couple of "Oofs." The room at the bottom was brightly lit, and Sam could see another guy's feet, presumably Cas', as he descended. There was another pair of legs, slender girl's legs clad in jeans and sparkly sandals, and the edge of a table decorated in crepe paper –

"Surprise!" a group of people yelled.

Dean, standing just inside the doorway, grabbed Sam's arm as he took the bottom step as though to keep him from falling over, but Sam just went stock-still, then grinned.

He looked over at Dean, who was standing next to Cas, as the partiers laughed. "You figured I hadn't had enough shocks lately?"

Gordon chuckled. "Jess was hung up at a family thing or we couldn't have yelled. She threatened to kill Andy and Travis and me, if we scared you and you banged into something. Come on over and sit down."

"I am not an invalid," Sam declared. "I could probably – Hey, Ash!"

"Hey, Sam. Great party they're having for you. Glad you could make it." Ash extended a can of orange soda.

Sam took it and popped the top, looking over at the food table, where Rachel was helping herself to a bunch of grapes. "Hey, Rachel, cute shirt!"

It was a sky-blue T-shirt with glittering angel's wings on the back. Rachel turned with a smile. "It's my prize. Cas knew he'd be studying for finals tomorrow, and he was so far behind me he knew there was no way he could win over the next two weeks."

"Well, congratulations! Cas has good taste."

"Actually, I picked this out when he welshed on the first prize I suggested."

"Hey, it's not welshing!" Cas said plaintively. "She wanted me to do her household chores for a month this summer. I'm not going to be home this summer."

"Excuses, excuses," Sam laughed.

Cas shrugged, smiling. "I think that falling in love makes me the de facto winner anyway."

"Is it OK if I gag and die?" Rachel inquired. "Sam, do you mind if we do the present-opening later? I've been dying for a foosball rematch with Andy."

Andy finished stuffing a cupcake in his mouth. "Don't know why I said yes. She came close to beating me last time. If I lose to a fruit-eating girl, I'm never leavin' the house again."

The two headed for the foosball table, detouring around Chuck and Becky, who had just cranked up Pink's "Raise a Glass" on the stereo.

Sam took a swig of soda. "This is great, Cas. Thanks."

"Actually, it was Dean's idea."

"You know, I didn't get you a present," Dean explained.

Sam gave him a funny look. "Birthday present," he said, holding out his left hand as if it were a dish on a scale. "Saving my life," as he held out the soda can, and then the soda can dropped while his left hand flew up in the air. "I think I'd give you a pass on the present this year."

"Oh, I'd do better than that," a soft female voice said behind him. "I'll give you a pass on presents for a couple of years."

Sam had turned by the time Jess had finished. She was standing behind him at the foot of the stairs, holding a bright green gift bag, and she gave Sam a gentle but long kiss as he faced her.

"Winners all around," Cas murmured.

Dean ran a hand across his shoulders. "You don't need to tell me."

Pam sidled over to Gordon with a flirtatious remark. Ash was telling Travis about his new gaming system. Chuck and Becky were either having mutual spasms or dancing. There was an agonized cry from Andy at the foosball table. Oblivious to it all, Sam and Jess kept kissing.

.

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THE END

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