In This Secluded Spot I Respond As I Wouldn't Dare Elsewhere

Windshield Wiper Fight

"You'd be surprised," Mr. Singer said, after wiping his hands on his coveralls, "how easy it is to change your windshield wipers, yet most people have it done at the service station or dealership. We're gonna learn how to do it today, to prevent you from gettin' ripped off in the future."

Dean was sitting next to Castiel, as he had done for the past three weeks, except now Castiel knew things were different. Even if Dean didn't feel the same way, when Dean's hand touched his shoulder, life shifted slightly in Castiel's favor. He felt a little more self-assured, a little more resilient with Dean at his side. He felt, if Castiel really thought about it, happy.

"Now obviously my ol' Chevelle we've been workin' on has a different type of wiper than you'd find on today's cars, so we have Alastair's Mustang over here. Since there's not enough room, half of you are gonna do some benchtop work, and the other half can gather in front of the windshield here for the practical stuff. Then we'll switch. Okay, this half of the room in front of the car."

Mr. Singer pointed to where Dean and Castiel were sitting, along with Alastair, Tom, and Brady as well. Castiel steeled himself, and with a quick glance up at Dean, walked over with the rest of the group.

"You wanna inspect wiper blades often. Streaks or stutterin' across the windshield can mean cracked or worn rubber. The other thing you wanna remember: if you get grease or tar or somethin' sticky on the windshield or wipers, you'll want to clean it right away. Anything coarse like rocks or dust can get stuck in there, and that'll eat right into the glass and then you're lookin' at windshield replacement."

Mr. Singer tapped at the air vent at the base of the windshield. "And see this vent right here? Here's another reason you wanna do routine maintenance checks on your car. Water can pool here and freeze, and if you try to use the wiper blades on a cold morning it'll kill the wiper motors pretty damn fast. Crap can get into the vents, too. Keep this area clean and ice-free, and you'll have no problems."

The first group all huddled around the sides of the Mustang, watching as Mr. Singer raised the wiper arm and demonstrated as he talked.

"This here's the assembly arm. There's a little lever here that releases the blade from the arm, and you can see how the blade rotates on the arm in order to get to it." Mr. Singer slipped a screwdriver into the tab on the arm, and separated the blade from it. Then he snapped it back together.

"The rubber bit is the blade element or simply a 'refill'. You can buy either the whole blade or just the rubber refill. You wanna be sure to get the right size, too, because if it's too short, the metal of the blade is gonna permanently scratch the glass in just a few strokes. They usually have sizing books in the auto parts store."

Castiel took notes while Dean looked on, mostly disinterested. Changing wiper blades was obviously well below his level of expertise. Mr. Singer raised both of the wiper arms from the windshield and picked up a screwdriver.

"I'm gonna have you guys change both the blade and the refill. There are pliers here to slide the refill out of the blade if it's hard to get a hold of. Make sure you know how to do it right; I'm gonna test you on all this when we're done."

Mr. Singer handed a replacement blade and a screwdriver to Castiel, and then walked over to where the rest of the class was doing their benchtop work to supervise them.

As soon as Mr. Singer left, Alastair snatched the items from Castiel's hand.

Dean scowled and pushed in close to where Castiel was standing next to the car. "He's gotta learn too, y'know, Folterknecht."

Alastair, surprised to see Dean step forward, sized him up with a glance. "You sure have been spending a lot of time with our little Asstiel, haven't you, Winchester?"

"Back off," Dean growled, grabbing the tools back from Alastair and handing them to Castiel.

"Who's going to make me? You?"

Tom and Brady laughed, while the rest of the group stepped back, sensing a confrontation.

"I'm his friend, all right?" Dean got up in Alastair's face. "Leave him alone."

"Oh really? This faggot?"

"Don't call him that," Dean said, his voice deep and dangerous.

"Why, are you his bodyguard?"

Castiel placed a hand on Dean's arm, trying to diffuse the situation. "Dean — "

Both Dean and Alastair looked at Castiel, and when Alastair turned back he had a smirk on his face.

"You're his friend, Winchester? No, I think maybe this little queer is sucking your cock."

In the same moment, Alastair reached over and slammed the outstretched wiper blade upward, smashing it against Castiel's mouth, just as Dean lunged forward and punched Alastair in the face.

Castiel stumbled backward and fell to his knees, blood spurting from a gash in his lip. His glasses went skittering across the floor. Students began yelling and cheering.

Alastair hit the hood of his car from the momentum of Dean's punch and rolled, coming back at Dean quickly with a hard cross to his nose. Dean's head snapped sideways, and Alastair took the opportunity to grab Dean's shirt collar and spin him around. Castiel heard Dean cry out as his ribs came in contact with the edge of the car's hood.

Alastair's fist was raised for another strike, but Mr. Singer grabbed his arm and pulled him off Dean, who slid to the floor.

"Enough! Enough!" Mr. Singer yelled, holding the struggling Alastair. "Get off 'im, Folterknecht."

Tom and Brady grabbed Alastair and began congratulating him on his victory. "That's what you get, Winchester, you fucking pussy!" Alastair yelled.

Mr. Singer helped Dean to his feet. "You okay, son?"

Dean pulled away from him and went over to Castiel, who was covered in blood from his chin down to the middle of his shirt. "Cas."

Castiel tried to staunch the bleeding with his shirt sleeve, and allowed Dean to help him up. Dean carefully picked up Castiel's glasses from the floor and put them back on his nose.

"What went on here?" Mr. Singer asked angrily, looking between Dean and Castiel and Alastair and his crew.

"Winchester hit me," Alastair replied.

"Then why is he the one bleedin'?" Mr. Singer asked, pointing to Castiel.

When no one answered, Mr. Singer waved his hands in annoyance. "You know what? I don't care. Both of you to the principal's office, now. Castiel, you better get yourself to the nurse."

Dean leaned close to Castiel's ear. "Get our stuff and meet me at the Impala. My keys are in my bag. I'm drivin' you home, all right?"

Castiel nodded. He grabbed both his and Dean's backpacks, and left the room without looking back.