Paint you Wings (Destiel)

Chapter 2

Most kids left Dean alone which he was kind of glad about. He hated talking, he barely did if he could avoid it. At first some kids had tried to talk to him, tried to become friends but eventually they had given up. Dean had never answered and they just stopped, not wanting to waste their time on someone that didn't want to talk to them anyways. The blonde boy who didn't like social interactions at all and probably was just too scared to be hurt again didn't feel like it was a mistake that he didn't talk, he just felt like it had been the right thing to do.

His little brother, of course, had a different opinion on that topic. Sam just wanted his big brother to be happy, to interact with others, to find friends. But what should the young boy do? After all those years of constant moving, not being able to make friends, having to be protected by his brother he just wanted to be happy, to be finally able to have a life. And he did get one, he found friends pretty quickly and was happier than ever. But his biggest wish was to return the favour and make Dean happy like he had made him happy. Sam knew that his big brother definitely was depressed in some kind of way but also knew that the older Winchester son wouldn't admit that which made it impossible to get help.

Earlier in their lives, they wouldn't have thought about Dean getting help anyways. They were poor, having almost no money at all. They couldn't even pay for their bills, so they wouldn't have been able to pay a psychologist anyways. And food? That had always been rare. Sometimes the little money they had wasn't even enough to get a little bit of it and Dean, wanting his brother to have a better life than he had, began to steal food, sometimes a toy so his little brother could play with something. He started to learn how to poker to get at least a bit of money.

But he never took a single penny for his own sake. He was taught that his brother was the only useful member of the family, the only one that wasn't broken. Dean would never let his brother become as broken as he himself or his father. That meant standing up for him, keeping Sam safe from bullies even if that meant being called to the principal. It meant giving Sam the most food, the healthy food, the more expensive ones what often meant he had to starve. Dean always bought the books Sam needed to pass his classes. Dean would take Sam's beatings if the younger spoke up against their father.

It had been going on since Dean had been 4 — since his mother died in that fire. Instead of being able to be just a kid he had been raised to be a soldier, a worthless burden that would neither get old nor be successful in the slightest. He was Sam's protector, his big brother, the worst replacement of their mother even possible. So, why should that boy even think of doing something for himself? It would be a waste of money.

And he never complained, not even once. It never occurred him that he was important in some kind of way, why should he think about something like that? He was told that he was worth nothing, that he would be better off dead, that everyone would have it easier without him. And he believed it. It was as natural for him as it was for others to have a loving father. Or a mother.

And that was the reason why he was planning on giving up. As soon as Sam left for college, started having his own life, a family — Dean would give in. He had it all planned up already. He would swallow some pills, drown them with alcohol, maybe even slice his wrists. Sam was the only person needing him, without Sam Dean was nothing. That was why he decided he would kill himself then. It was a hard decision, the blonde boy had thought about it for days, even weeks, and that was the only solution he could think of when all he wanted to do was escaping that world of pain he was living in.

A step had already been done when they had been taken to that foster home. They were out of their father's reach, at least at the moment. Their father was on the run, the police was searching for the black haired male, but the man was too experienced in hiding and tricking people into thinking in a certain way. Dean was sure the people from the police wouldn't find John Winchester as long as he didn't want to be found and that the man would come someday to kill him but he just didn't care. The days of fear were mostly over.

The only person scaring him at the moment was a blue eyed boy that was living in the foster home as well. That boy whose name was Castiel often stared at him, almost not stopping for a second and that continued ever since Dean had been living in the foster home. Dean wished the boy would just stop, the stare made him feel self conscious and scared, almost like Castiel was just searching for his weaknesses to use them against Dean. Everyone in his past had done that, that one boy wouldn't be any different.

Anyways, Dean thought Castiel was a bit strange, like he also didn't belong to this place in the slightest. Castiel was always wearing expensive, modern clothing, always had the newest technology, always up to date with anything that was possible to buy. All in all, that boy seemed to be spoiled what made Dean somehow jealous. He wished his brother and he would have had at least a bit more money, it would have taken a lot of weight off of Dean's shoulders.

Additionally, Castiel looked almost like an angel, at least in Dean's opinion. With those blue eyes, blue like the sea on a calm day. Dean had always loved the sea, it had always had that calming effect on him. Then, of course, the black hair on Castiel's head, always tousled and looking like Castiel just had had sex.

Feeling like that, feeling like Castiel was the sexiest person walking on this earth, made Dean think about his sexuality. He hated putting labels onto himself but what could he do otherwise? He definitely wasn't "straight" like everyone would just assume because being something different was unacceptable. But he thought of him rather like a bisexual because he had experienced a crush on both men and women. It didn't matter to Dean — he would never get a single one of them anyways so he just swooned over them in his dreams. Especially when they were as good looking as Castiel Novak.

This whole month long Dean just somehow accepted Castiel staring but after that he kind of snapped. He couldn't bear with that stare any more, it was too much. So, he did something he would normally have never even thought of: He walked over to Castiel as the black haired boy was sitting alone.

"I'm sorry but.. Why do you always stare at me?"