Lines of Lightning
It's senior year and Castiel Novak isn't expecting anything exceptional to happen. He has his friends, his debate team, his family to drive him crazy, and only a vague idea on what the hell he's going to do after high school. When his brother's childhood friend moves back into town, the most Castiel can hope for is expanding his social circle by a person or two.
Dean Winchester didn't think he'd be spending his first year of "adulthood" still in high school and suddenly under his father's thumb again. He's trying to make the best of it, giving his all on the hockey team and looking out for his little brothers while fostering his newfound friendship with his classmate. Only thing is, the full on gay crisis he's having is throwing a wrench in his year.
Chapters: 29 Words: 182,159
Read the full story here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000971
First chapter below cut:
It ought to feel different, the last first day of school. The freshmen pushing by do look a little younger than Castiel remembers seeing the year before, but he doesn’t necessarily feel any older. He certainly doesn’t feel senior. At least he knows where all his classes are without trying to sneak glances at the schedule on their phones they all pretend they don’t need. He slips by a knot of rowdy boys enthusiastically knocking each other into the lockers and heads into the door of the classroom, towards his favorite seat. Back corner, by the window. He’s smart, he does well in his classes, but he also likes to daydream, and he enjoys being able to look outside when his mind needs the chance to wander. He drops himself into the chair, resting his chin on his hand while he watches other students start to trickle in.
Their groups are pretty well-defined at this point; most of them have been at the same school for the last three years. Castiel knows he’s lucky to have the crew he does. Debate team was a pretty good way to single out the nerdier, more eccentric kids and drag them all together. He has a few friends outside of that group too. Well, he has one friend. As if he was summoned, Balthazar is the next through the door, heading straight for Castiel.
“Cassie, darling, we have so much to catch up on!” He doesn’t mind shouting over everyone else to be heard, but most of their classmates are aware that’s just Balthazar’s normal tone and ignore him. Balthazar settles in the seat next to Castiel, bottom lip pouting out. “Why didn’t you come to dinner last night?”
“I told you, we were already going out for my mom’s birthday.” Balthazar huffs and slumps back in his chair, arms coming to cross his chest. Even pouting the way he is, he manages to look more sophisticated and cultured than most 18 year old boys would ever get close to.
“Well, it better have been fun for you to blow off your best friend.” It’s no surprise that Balthazar was the star of most of the theater programs their school ran, he carried that drama with him constantly.
“I didn’t blow you off. You’ve met my family, you know it wasn’t fun,” Castiel replies, giving his eyes a bit of a roll. “Go on then, how was France?”
“Oh, it was fine. They’ve done so many repairs on the chateau this year, my room was actually functional.” His phone is out of his pocket and in Castiel’s face, pictures already pulled up as if Balthazar had been planning exactly how the conversation would play out. Knowing him, it was likely he had. The chateau is impressive, all classic gothic architecture. It doesn’t look like a place someone can live, with towers framing the entryway, small but intricately designed windows nestled into the thick stone of the old building. The outside looks the same as he’s seen every year, but there was some historical design that they weren’t supposed to change and it’s so beautiful Castiel can’t fathom why anyone would want to. They’d been modernizing the rooms inside, though, adding electricity to the ones that didn’t have it, updating plumbing, all the luxuries of the modern world.
“I’ve finally convinced father to get Wi-Fi routers on every floor. The signal was so awful last time I had to be in the main ballroom if I wanted to watch anything.” The next picture shows a massive television mounted in what Castiel thinks is Balthazar’s room.
A lot of their classmates think Balthazar is a snob. Castiel can understand why, if they’ve never actually spoken to him. He is jealous himself sometimes, his friend stealing away to some incredible castle in France every single summer, but he knows it’s not as fun as it seems. A nasty divorce left Balthazar’s father in France and his mother moving back to America. Castiel doesn’t quite understand why she would choose to settle back in Lawrence, Kansas after her jet-setting adventures, but he’s grateful he did if it means he gets to keep Balthazar around.
“Are you going back next year?” Castiel questions. Balthazar’s face drops slightly. Castiel knows he’s been avoiding the discussion all summer.
“Father’s trying to convince me to apply to university in France. We had to have a ‘discussion’ about it every night. I don’t know what he expects, though, even if I go to school there I’m not going to live with him. I couldn’t do very well in my courses if he never lets me out the bloody door.” That’s always been Balthazar’s main complaint about his summers. Apparently, even a giant, historical chateau quickly grew old when you were trapped inside it for three months with no one but maids and cooks to talk to.
Meanwhile, Castiel would have killed for a little more time alone this summer. He thought that with Michael graduating and Luke out doing whatever he was that it might have ended up a little more peaceful. He didn’t expect Michael to move back in while he was job hunting, or for his presence to push their parents to breathe down Gabriel’s neck even more about what he was going to do this year. Castiel knows they’re just worried he’s going to end up like Luke, but he also knows that Gabriel resents that and the more their parents push the more insistent Gabriel is that he’s not going to do a damned thing. He isn’t sure if all that has anything to do with Anna’s new rebellious streak, or if it is just that she is starting high school herself, but every time there was a day of peace with Gabriel, it seemed like she took over the chaos. Castiel’s saving grace was the fact that his parents finally let him drive this year, and Samandriel. If they hadn’t had those afternoons out at the park or wandering around the mall, he doesn’t know that he would have stayed sane the entire summer.
“Are you still thinking about Juliard?” Castiel winces as Balthazar whacks his shoulder. “Ow!”
“Don’t say it out loud, it’s bad luck!”
“Fine. Are you still thinking about that one school in New York?” Balthazar opens his mouth to respond, but the bell sounds, cutting him off.
There’s plenty of noise as everyone shuffles towards their seats. A buzz hums through the room that Castiel doubts will be very common the rest of the term. Even for someone who loves it, starting the day with literature was going to be a chore. At least Mr. Shurley would be suffering alongside them. It’s only the first day and he already looks like he’s only half awake, coffee cup clutched in his hand as he comes in, shutting the door behind him and making his way to the front of the room. Castiel would assume that it’s only because 8:00 a.m. is too early for anyone to try to be functioning, but he’s had Mr. Shurley every year and no matter the time of day he seems like he’s struggling with the very concept of being awake. His room always smells overwhelmingly of coffee and Castiel’s never seen him without a mug within arms length.
“Alright guys, settle down.” It takes a few moments for the whispers and shuffling to settle. No one has taken the seat in front of Balthazar, who stretches out, cat-like, propping his feet up on it. “I know you’re all excited to start this year. For some of you, these are the last books I’ll ever get you to read.” A charitable laugh rumbles around the room. Despite being a little rough around the edges, Mr. Shurley is generally well liked, if only because he lets his students get away with doing what they want as long as they turn in their work when they’re supposed to.
He takes a sip from the coffee mug (one that many students theorize might have an extra ingredient or two) before setting it on his desk and turning to the white board. Most of the teachers prefer the newer digital whiteboards, but the originals have been kept up for the holdouts like Mr. Shurley. The marker shrieks as he scrawls across the board in slanting, nearly illegible script. “Wuthering Heights. One of the few classics we’ll recognize to be written by a woman.” A few girls in the class perk up slightly. They weren’t shy about voicing their disdain for the sausage fest that was classic literature.
“Charlie, Cole, let’s get these passed out.” There're two piles of well-worn copies of the book balancing on the table at the front of the room that they head to, starting around the room while Mr. Shurley turns back to the board.
“I’ll give you the only one not being held together with duct tape,” Charlie whispers as she comes to Castiel’s desk, grinning as she drops one of the better looking books in front of him. “Gays gotta stick together.” Balthazar lets out an indignant huff when she hands him a much more battered copy, the entire cover obscured by sticky silver tape trying to hold it to the binding.
“So much for gays sticking together,” he complains.
“We both know you’re not going to read it anyway, so I’m doing you a favor. Now you have an excuse.” Balthazar considers this for a moment before seeming to accept that, sinking back down in his seat and pushing the book to the corner of his desk.
“Emily Bronte wrote this in 1847. Anyone remember what we call that time period?” Mr. Shurley turns back to the class. Castiel knows, but he doesn’t volunteer often. He learned early on that if he lets his teachers know that he knows the answer they start to turn to him more and more often and it’s terrible on the days when he can’t be bothered to get himself out of his own head. A quiet falls over the class, the quietest they’ve been all morning. Mr. Shurley lets the silence hang for a moment, but before he can cave and give them the answer, the door opens. There’s an eerie unison to the way everyone’s head turns at the same time, all eyes on the boy stepping into the room. There’s another beat of silence as he hesitates, throwing a glance around the room.
“Is this senior lit?” He’s not someone Castiel recognizes. Their school isn’t tiny, but it’s small enough he’s seen just about everyone, and he knows that he would have remembered seeing him before. Despite everyone staring at him, the boy looks remarkably calm. His backpack hangs off one shoulder, over a leather coat that is at least a full size too big for him but manages to put on an air of nonchalance and not look like he’s playing dress-up like it would if Castiel tried to pull off something like that. Their eyes meet as the boy surveys the room again, a bright green that Castiel suddenly finds familiar.
“If it isn’t, I’m in trouble,” Mr. Shurley responds, drawing the boy’s gaze away from Castiel. “You must be Dean. There’s an open seat right back there.” He gestures to the chair Balthazar’s feet are propped on, giving him a pointed look. With a heavy sigh Balthazar pulls his feet back, but the look on his face tells Castiel that he’s also intrigued by the new kid. Mr. Shurley hands him - Dean, apparently - one of the remaining books, everyone watching him head towards his seat. “You can all harass him later. Now, has anyone come up with the name of the time period yet? We’ve only discussed three of them so you can at least put up a guess, come on.”
Castiel knows he’s staring. It’s a bad habit of his, really, and Dean is cute. More than that, though, there’s something about him that stirs a memory in the back of Castiel’s mind. He’s trying to place it when Dean picks up his book, jacket sleeve riding up and revealing a scar curling over the heel to the palm of his hand. Castiel knows that scar, Gabriel has one that is damned near identical.
The Dean that Castiel remembers is much smaller. A pudgy, round face, but the same sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Gabriel was only a year older than Castiel, but when he had his first grade friends over, he felt like the coolest kindergartner getting to hang out with them. He’d sat on the curb, watching Gabriel and Dean line up their bikes, each with a branch in hand. They’d gone out to see a pirate movie for Gabriel’s birthday, and the sword battles had left an impression. Gabriel had informed Castiel that he was too young to play, but he could be the judge, and he got the very exciting job of screaming, “Ready, set, go!”
There’s a surprising clarity in his memory, watching his brother and Dean racing directly towards each other, brandishing their branches while pedaling furiously. They were just sticks from a tree, they couldn’t be that sharp, that’s what they all assumed. Apparently, at high enough speeds, even a seemingly dull branch could puncture the skin. Castiel abandoned his job as judge to run inside shouting for his mom instead. They’d all gone to the hospital together, considering Gabriel and Dean had managed to impale both their hands on the same branch and nobody wanted to pull it out.
Sitting in the back seat, Gabriel was wailing next to Castiel, clutching his wrist and crying out every time the car jostled them in the slightest. It made Dean that much more impressive sitting next to him, the few tears he had let drop already dry, trying to tell Gabriel jokes to get him to calm down. Castiel wished he was sitting next to Dean and then immediately felt guilty for that, but Gabriel’s crying was making his head throb. It’d been a relief when they made it to the hospital. Luke and Michael managed to convince their mom to give them money for snacks and Castiel stayed out in the waiting room with them, watching cartoons and crunching through a bag of chips.
Gabriel emerged an hour later with his hand wrapped in a bandage, so excited to tell his brothers about the stitches hidden underneath he didn’t even bother trying to steal the crumbs out of Castiel’s bag. Dean’s parents had come in at some point but Castiel didn’t know who they were until they exited the doors with Dean. He was settled on his mom’s lap next to a tiny baby, his dad pushing the wheelchair. They came over and chatted, Castiel’s mother apologizing profusely for the accident. Cas remembers not being able to look away from Dean’s mom, though. There was something about the look on her face that disturbed him, sent him scuttling over to Michael’s side and hiding behind his leg. There were dark circles around her eyes, cheeks gaunt and bones too prominent, and when the bandana on her head slipped back Castiel didn’t see any hair underneath it. He didn’t understand how Dean could be so happy sitting on her lap.
He heard that a few weeks later, she had died. They didn’t see much of Dean after that, Gabriel said he only came to school a few times a week before he stopped showing up entirely. Eventually he learned that they had moved. He’d thought about Gabriel’s old friend here and there, but he certainly didn’t expect him to show up at his school.
“Alright, I want you all to get started on the first chapter,” Mr. Shurley announces, and immediately the room breaks into whispers. He doesn’t appear interested in fighting it today, going to his desk and dragging his coffee closer. Castiel is usually one to ignore everyone else and pick up his book, but curiosity is pressing at him. He clears his throat, gaining Balthazar’s attention as he does.
“Uh, hey. Dean, right?” He turns around, and another look straight at his face convinces Castiel this has to be the same person. “Dean Winchester?” Dean’s eyes narrow slightly as he examines Castiel’s face before a smile practically explodes across his lips, bringing light to his expression.
“Oh shit, it’s been ages. I didn’t think anyone would remember me. Castiel, right?” Dean twists around in his seat, not doing much to keep his voice down, but the rest of the class isn’t trying too hard either.
“Yeah! I didn’t think you’d remember me either,” Castiel admits. He’d expect Dean to remember Gabriel, maybe, they were actually friends, but as far as he could tell he was just the annoying little brother who insisted on hanging out with them.
“Well don’t be rude. Introduce me to your friend, Cassie,” Balthazar interrupts, leaning his elbows on his desk.
“Oh, he’s not my friend,” Castiel says quickly. He hasn’t seen Dean in 12 years, he didn’t think he could call him a friend.
“Ouch. My first day and you’re already singling me out, huh?” Castiel flounders, looking for an appropriate answer, but Dean just laughs and shakes his head. “I’m kidding, dude. I used to live around here, I hung out with Gabriel for a little while.” He turns to Balthazar, offering him a warm smile.
“You used to be in his class, didn’t you? Why are you in ours?” Not until the words are out of his mouth does Castiel realize he probably shouldn’t be asking, it’s none of his business, and again he’s left trying to pull his foot out of his mouth.
“I was a dumb kid. Still am but they let me go to the next grade now,” Dean answers casually. Castiel’s cheeks go pink and he shakes his head.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean-” Dean cuts him off, grinning.
“Hey don’t worry about it. It’s nice to know someone here. And your friend…” He trails off, looking to Balthazar.
“Oh! Oh, yes, sorry. This is Balthazar. He is my friend,” he clarifies, not wanting to make the same mistake again. Balthazar wouldn’t be as willing to let it go, even if he didn’t take it seriously. Balthazar extends his hand, something that looks to catch Dean by surprise, but he reaches out to meet him anyway, giving his hand a small shake.
“Balthazar? Damn, your name is even more wild than Castiel. No offense.” Balthazar’s eyes narrow momentarily, like he’s considering if he should take offense, before his expression relaxes.
“None taken. Nice to meet you, Dean.” Balthazar settles back, propping his chin on his hand. “You’re lucky you’ve got Shurley for literature. I’ve heard that the new lady is a bitch.” Dean snorts the same time Castiel scoffs.
“Thaz, you’ve never even met her. It’s the first day, how is anyone supposed to know she’s a bitch?”
“Hey, it seems like this guy is hard to beat.” Dean looks back at the desk where Mr. Shurley is settled, staring intently at his computer screen with his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Does he always let people screw around in class like this?”
“Oh absolutely.” Balthazar had a goal of distracting Castiel as much as possible during class, so it seemed, and he’s grinning like he may have just found someone to assist him with that.
“Sweet. Hey, what other classes do you guys have? You can give me all the dirt.” Castiel knows that Balthazar is all too happy to gossip, he’s heard stories about all of their teachers at least once and Balthazar doesn’t seem too bothered by what’s true as long as it’s a good tale. Castiel watches the two of them, letting the words become nothing more than a soft buzz in his ears.
Maybe this year would feel different after all.
