Hello my lovely little Destiel Shippers! I've decided to do a Story I like to call the Marraige Sham... I don't know where I've heard this plot before... but it was somewhere... and well... I just HAD to... Dean and Cas... c'mon! Anyway, I really hope you like it, and review if you think I should continue. I love you for lciking on this, and enjoy!

Chapter One: Prologue

"Dean, we aren't doing this to be unfair, we promise, we care about you very much… it's just…" Dean scoffed slightly, running a hand through his shirt blonde hair. The woman who had been speaking sighed lightly. "Dean, sweetie…" She closed her brown eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, and turning to her husband, a tall man with wispy blonde hair in a crisp, dark suit. He spoke up.

"Dean, it looks bad that your younger brother of four years gets married, and you haven't even been spotted in a long-term relationship, people are starting to question your morals…" Dean looked up, giving the man in the chair a hard glare with his green eyes. The man sighed, shrugging his shoulders, the suit bunching up a bit around his arms. "Dean, we know there is nothing wrong with your morals. You're a great boy, and we love you, we have since the day we adopted you… however, the media doesn't see it in a similar way." Dean rolled his eyes. "Dean, Sam's marriage to Jessica was phenomenal, but it also raised some serious questions about you. Look, I'm not saying it has to be someone from 'our neck of the woods'. They don't have or to be rich, or involved in politics." He paused, recalling a particularly awkward conversation he'd had with Dean several years ago. "They don't even have to be a girl, Dean. But someone. You've got to see this from my point of view, Dean, what am I supposed the tell that girl and her family?" Dean scoffed again.

"How about, no? Or, Dean isn't interested in girls that much anymore, or Dean doesn't want to marry you? Or Dean's dead? Not okay!" He shouted, causing the woman to open her eyes, giving him a gentle look. "Why does she even want to get hitched with me, anyway?"

"Our families work very closely together, and a marriage would be beneficial to the public view. Sam was already courting Jess, and I believe Margie was always interested in you anyway, rather broken up when you paid her no attention at social events…" He trailed off, fiddling with a paperweight on his desk. "Look Dean, being in politics has its risks. And I know you didn't sign up for any of this… but you have to try and level with us here."
Dean wanted to scream, he wanted to shout. He wanted to tell them they had no right to determine the status of his love life. But he couldn't. He owed them. When Dean had been ten, and Sam had been six, his parents had died in a house fire. John and Mary Winchester, who had loved both of their boys, had unwillingly left them behind to fend for themselves. The boys had spent two years in foster care, Dean fighting to take care of Sam, the two of them fighting together. There had been a series of houses, foster families, and social workers, but none of them were interested in keeping Dean and Sam together. And Dean and Sam were not interested in being separated. So, whenever a threat of separation popped up, Dean and Sam acted out, effectively eliminating that threat. This went on until Dean was twelve and Sam was eight, the two of them broken, and bruised, but still fighting.

Then one day, something just a bit short of a miracle happened. Amy and Paul Smith had walked into the Foster home. Paul Smith, a popular politician, a local hero, and in the running for senator had been trying to conceive a baby with his beautiful dark haired wife, Amy. After several attempts and a doctor's trip, they realized Paul was sterile. They weighed their options, and decided on adoption rather than artificial insemination, or other methods. And from the moment the blonde-haired, honey-eyed man had walked in with his wife, they had been drawn to Sammy. Of course they had. He was smart, adorable, charismatic kid. They had immediately shown interest in adoption. And Sam had quickly informed them that he was not interested in going anywhere without his brother, Dean. These words coming form the eight year-old's mouth had shocked them a bit, but then something happened that had never happened before. Amy had dropped down to her knees, happiness leaking from those kind chocolate eyes, a smile on her face.

"Well then, I suppose we'll have to take him with us too." And just like that, (well, after the necessary paper-work and waiting period) Sam and Dean had a home.

Of course, the popular public figure and politician Paul Smith adopting two little boys was all over the news, however the boys were too young to realize things such as that. They were too excited to have a home.

Sam immediately loved it. He was enrolled in elementary school near their house, and was given all the books he could possibly read. He received a mini-biology kit as a welcome gift, and spent hours going over Paul's work with him in his study. It was the nerdy kid's dream.

Dean was happy to see Sam happy. And it was not like the Smiths were not nice people. Because they absolutely were, but Dean had been older when their parents died. Remembered them more… felt almost like he was… betraying them. So it had taken Dean longer to warm up. He was polite and cordial, but nothing beyond that.

However, Amy Smith had tried extra hard to bond with Dean. And bond with Dean she did. She baked him his favorite pies, took him to the park to play, and watched his favorite movies with him. She read to him and always gave him love and care, taking him to and from school. In no time, Dean began to open up. Dean began to love his new parents.

That didn't change the fact that he had been scared shitless to tell them when he was seventeen, and he realized he was bi-sexual. He still did like girls,, but he was finding that he preferred men… lean and muscled bodies instead of soft curves. And he was old enough now to realize that especially because of his father's political standing, a gay, adopted son could cause a scandal. Even if his father was a democrat and all.

But when he had taken a breath and told them, he received nothing but acceptance. His mother had smiled and told him she loved him, no matter who he loved. His father hadn't said much, instead only giving him a short nod and saying,

"You've grown to a good man, doesn't matter much to me. Besides, it'll be nice to give some of the stick-up-the-ass dicks a work with a good culture-shock." And Dean had been happy. And so had Sam. Sam had done exceptionally well, graduating high school with honors, and attending freakin' Stanford Law! He'd met a pretty, nice blonde girl named Jess, and dated her for several years, before eventually proposing, ad marrying her. The ceremony had been beautiful, and Dean was the best man. And Sam seemed happy.

Dean had taken advantage of his new life as well. He'd studied hard, and went to school for art, a talent of his that he had never been to keen on sharing. His parents supported him, and he lived in small apartment, selling paintings when he could, working at an auto-shop for extra money. He never asked his parents for more than they'd already given him, and he was happy with his simple lifestyle. That didn't keep the media away though. Dean had never been in any long-term relationships, somewhat of a player, and focused on the hardships his life had dealt him. And recently, newspaper headlines had been something like, 'The Oldest Smith Suffering from Social Issues,' or, 'A Smith Wedding… and a Solitude Lifestyle.' His father had even been asked some questions about it at press conferences. It was frankly embarrassing, and now, it had given the father of Margie Stubbs ammunition.

Jonathan Stubbs was a politician who had more than one run-in with Paul Smith. He had wanted nothing more than to become closer to Paul, seeing as he had a higher social standing. So, since Dean had turned fifteen, he had been trying to set him up for marriage with his daughter Margie. The offers had always been politely refused, but hadn't stopped, even when the gay thing came into the light. Margie seemed quite keen with the idea, and had begun to spread rumors that there was something suspicious about the fact he wouldn't marry her. Dean couldn't exactly say that it was because she was a rich, ungrateful bitch.

And now there was this. Paul was facing a political scandal, and was pretty much pleading for Dean's help, something he'd never done before. And Dean felt that he owed it to him to pay him back. But… to get married? And so soon? To Margie? Dean sighed, looking at his mother.

"I want to help you guys… but… Margie…" the corners of Amy's mouth twitched into a small smile. Paul smiled as well, shrugging.

"It's the best we have, and you've made it clear you aren't seeing anyone." Dean scowled slightly, envisioning coming home to a large house, and Margie, maybe a dog and some kids. Margie's kids. The image was not pretty. Dean scowled deeper.

"I mean, if you were in a relationship, I might be able to give you some time, but the media has really been running with this story. It seems like a much bigger deal than it really is, and I'm going to have to do something about it." Dean didn't argue, he owed them. He really did… and somehow, Dean couldn't fight the slowly forming idea in his head.

"Sweetie." Said his mother, looking up to meet his eyes. "I would give anything not to have to do this." Dean was barely listening, as the idea began to form more clearly. Then his father spoke up, grabbing his attention.

"So, I believe it would be in everyone's best interest if I told Margie you agreed." As he said this, he reached for the phone, Dean's eyes widening.

"No! Stop!" Paul stopped, and Amy sighed.

"Dean…" Dean held up a hand, silencing her.

"You can't tell Margie that I'll marry her because…" It was probably a bad idea to lie… but…. "because I'm already seeing someone!" Idea spoken aloud. Amy's eyes widened, Paul raised his eyebrows.

"Dean…" Amy said softly, looking slightly hurt. "Why didn't you…" Dean forced a laugh, pushing down the small feeling of guilt.

"I'm really sorry I didn't… tell you mom I just…" He shrugged again, looking at the royal blue carpet.

"When do we get to meet them?" Came Paul's voice, slow and steady, not even questioning the identity of said person. Dean panicked for a second, before slowly answering.

"Well, they've been pretty busy lately with… school." He supplied fumbling over his words. "But, it's pretty serious and I'm sure this whole thing won't be a problem." Amy stayed silent, lips pressed together, while Paul leaned forward.

"Very well, Dean." He put the phone down. And looked up at his adoptive son. "You have a week to 'bite the proverbial bullet' and ask if they're willing to tie the knot…" His expression became slightly threatening, yet apologetic at the same time. "Or I'm afraid I'll have to call Margie's father." Dean nodded quickly glancing at his mother, then to his shoes.

"Shouldn't be a problem." He said, looking at the door. "I have to get to the shop, but I love you guys, see you tomorrow!" And with that he made a hasty exit, running out of the large house, down the marble steps, and not stopping until he slammed the door to his black 67' Chevy Impala, leaning against the leather and sighing deeply. He rubbed his forehead with calloused hands.

"I'm so screwed."

"Mr. Novak? Could you come up here a second?" Castiel's large, crystal blue eyes looked up from under his dark lashes, pulling the pen from between his chapped pink lips with an inaudible pop. He dropped it on his desk, quickly gathering his notebooks, and textbooks into his black shoulder bag, and sauntering over to the professor's desk while the other students filed out of the classroom.

His blue-button down scrunched at the shoulders under the weight of the strap, displaying some of his pale shoulder. With a sigh, he re-adjusted the bag, then ran a hand through his dark mop of disarrayed hair, then he reached the desk.

His professor waited several moments until all of the students were out of the lecture hall, before taking his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Castiel tilted his head in confusion, looking down at the man.

"Professor Shurley?" He man looked up with kind eyes. Castiel had always liked him. He had a bit of the scatter-brained professor thing going on, but he was kind, and a wonderful language teacher. He sometimes said he's had ideas come to him while he was sleeping, and had published several books about two brothers named Jared and Jensen who hunted monsters. He'd read them. They were okay.

"Castiel…" He sighed wearily, leafing through several papers on his desktop. Castiel quirked an eyebrow and waited for the man to continue. "Your most recent assignment was… wonderful. I don't think I've ever seen such exemplary work from a student." Castiel smiled slightly, sensing something was off, although the compliment warmed him.

"Thank you, sir." Professor Shurley smiled studying the desktop.

"However…" Castiel knew it. "You are… very behind on your tuition. I know you've taken a lot out with student loans, and you owe that to the school… which is fine to pay off over time… however your semester tuition is late for this semester… and the last." Castiel felt his stomach drop. He knew that he was late on tuition. And he knew it would bit him in the ass… probably sooner rather than later… but… his life had been hard.

He'd lived with a large family, seven brothers and sister. His mother had died when he was very young… and Castiel's father had been very religious. They hadn't… seen eye to eye. After discovering Castiel preferred males to women… he had reacted badly… and had been sent to prison. He was taken care of by his six older brothers and sister. And one by one, they left. Michael had died in a car crash, and Lucifer, (or Luke as they called him) had never gotten over it, and had moved away. Uriel and Raphael had graduated from college and gotten jobs, moving to different states and maintaining little contact until… eventually… nothing. The hardest had been when his older sister, Anna, had tried to kill herself. She was currently in a recovery hospital, not trusting herself to come out yet. Frankly, Castiel hadn't either. Which left Gabriel. His older brother of only three years, who supported Castiel with everything he had, working three jobs, trying to put Castiel through college. Castiel was no slacker however he worked two jobs as well, and also helped to cover rent on their apartment.

They'd done okay so far he was in his second to last year. But it was getting harder and harder. Gabriel was fired from his third job, and Castiel insisted to give all of his money directly to the apartment. Gabriel wouldn't let Castiel drop out though, because he firmly believed Castiel was the smartest kid ever. He'd gotten high-flying grades in high school, and was in many academic clubs. His grades had slipped senior year during his family drama, and he missed a few tests while taking care of Anna, smashing his chanced for scholarships. Thus, this is what happened.

Castiel looked down to his teacher. "I know, I'm so sorry Professor, I'm trying, I really am." Professor Shurley gave him a sympathetic look.

"I know Castiel, I know. And I have tried to hold them off… I've been on your side…" He paused and took a deep breath. "But Castiel, you have about a week to pay off most of your tuition fees, or we're going to need to remove you from the school. I'm so sorry Castiel, I really am." Castiel just nodded, forcing a small smile.

"No, I completely understand Mr. Shurley. Thank you for your kindness, if you'll excuse me, I have to go." With that, Castiel curtly exited the room, walking from the building, staring at the ground. After walking for several moments, he stopped outside under a tree, red and gold and yellow, several leaves falling around him. He leaned his back against the tree, dropping his head against the trunk, and staring at the paper-white sky.

"I am so screwed."

There we go, chapter one of The Marriage Sham. You see that review button? Click it and feed it, and more chapters will be coming your way soon! Love you!