Author's Note: Irrelevant title is from Arrive Alive. A couple of these pointless, crappy, teeny drabble-babbles were inspired by whatever episode it was where Rosalya says Lysander likes to "zone out" in the gardening club. It should be obvious which couple of these drabble-babbles I'm talking about...And uh, the rating is for le usage of la curse words and some drug implications.

"Do you have a pen? I seem to have forgotten mine."

Castiel shifted his eyes to Lysander, smirking softly in fond amusement. This was the fourth time this week his friend had forgotten a pen. Good thing he learned to always bring an extra.

"Here you go."

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Debrah never really cared about him, did she? Never. What was he to her? Just a tool to help her on her career track? Somehow he had trouble believing that was it. Could that really be it? They'd done so much together. They murmured so many sweet nothings and spent nights gazing into each other's eyes as though neither would ever look away. Not even for the world...But everything she said, everything she meant! It contradicted every single meaningful sentiment.

At the end of it all, maybe he was using her too. He was still going to take that offer when she came back, their bittersweet romance evaporated or not.

"Lysander?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know whether or not I'm supposed to feel more hurt or more confused."

Lysander gave a thoughtful hum and shook his head. "I wouldn't say that there's any particular way you're 'supposed' to feel at all. You just feel however it is you feel."

Castiel expected some sort of vague, bullshit answer like that. It made him smile a little.

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It's an old wives tale that you'll catch a cold if you're walking out in the rain. Not really true, everyone knows it's really germs that cause them.

But Lysander already has a cold and from the way he's shivering, Castiel can tell the relentless shower from the heavens isn't helping it at all. He doesn't have an umbrella, so he unzips his jacket and shrugs it off.

It's somewhat awkward to hold it over the taller male's head, but the grateful glance and congested mumble of thanks he gets in return are worth stretching.

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"Demon got out again," Castiel pants breathlessly, "I lost sight of him. Can we take your brother's car?"

"He's not keen on letting me borrow it when he's not around."

"Lysander!" Demon could be anywhere! And this was a busy city, filled with canine hazards like cars, rabid strays, and animal control.

"Hold on," said Lysander, "Calm down. I never said we can't take it. We just shouldn't let him know about it later."

Considering how much Lysander hates-no, completely detests-being dishonest with anyone and Leigh especially, it really means a lot.

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It's ironic. Lysander is the one that called for an ambulance, and now they won't even let him in the room.

"Only family is allowed at this time," the intern tells him matter-of-factly.

Castiel gives her a cool glare. "Let him in anyway, I don't have any family." The lie that passes his lips might as well be the truth. Sure he does have family, but they're thousands of miles away and don't have the slightest clue that he brushed death today.

"I'm so sorry, but I'm really not supposed to-"

"He's not going to leave until he sees me. This is going to work out much better for everyone if you just let him in." Her face twists up as she considers. She knows her superiors aren't going to like it, but she relents under the redhead's glare and steps briskly out of the room.

Lysander replaces her in the blink of an eye. Looking peaked and stricken, he's at the bed in an instant and grabbing up Castiel in an obscenely tight hug. The stitches and the vacancy his appendix used to occupy burn with protest, but Lysander is shaking and needs to know he's okay. So Castiel refuses to make him let go and returns the embrace (albeit more gently).

"Relax, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

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That nerdy, teacher's pet, bastard, dickhead, prick was just begging to get his ass kicked.

"Suspended!? For what!?"

"Drug paraphernalia. Outside your locker there was-"

"Drug paraphernalia my ass!" As if it wasn't bad enough that Nathaniel hounded him for the petty stuff that didn't matter that he was responsible for, like skipping school or stealing keys, now he was getting blamed for shit he didn't even do.

Castiel lunges, fist raised and aiming straight for the blonde's eye. He's shocked when there's a flash of black darting in to serve as a buffer, but there's no time to pull back. He hits Lysander square in the cheek. "Hey, what the hell did you do that for!?"

The silver-haired teen steps back, breathing a sigh as he gingerly rubs his face. "You're both in the wrong, again." He holds up a small keychain adorned with a smiling rubber marijuana leaf. Complete with tiny plastic sunglasses. "This supposed drug paraphernalia is mine. I dropped it this morning. And before either of you ask, it was just a party favor."

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"Just a party favor, huh?"

Lysander gives a little grin that probably hurts his bruised face, but doesn't say anything one way or the other.

Castiel laughs. "No wonder your memory is shit."

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Lysander is unusually quiet when he comes over. Castiel can only assume the date with Lynn didn't go well.

But he refrains from asking. He knows Lysander and when Lysander feels like telling him what happened, he will. And that is when Lysander feels like talking about what happened and not if, because it's inevitable that he will feel like sharing.

They spend most of the evening listening to music as opposed to writing it and it takes him a little longer to open up than Castiel would have thought.

"She's interested in someone else," the silver-haired male murmurs wistfully.

"I'm sorry, man. That sucks." Castiel frowns and wonders if there's anything he can do to make it better, because his friend looks really, really low about this. Almost painfully despondent.

"She's interested in you."

"Wait...What?"

"Lynn fancies you and inquired about me putting in a good word for her."

"I'm not into her."

Lysander eyes him up carefully, clearly not convinced. "You can be. I won't hold it against you. Surely you don't think I would?"

"I won't repeat myself." The rest of the night is also quieter than normal and perhaps this could have been a fight.

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Lysander is not surprised when Castiel calls him up and the news is not good news. Nor is he surprised when his friend asks if he'll come along, because he really can't go there alone.

He agrees and walks the redhead to the veterinary clinic where Demon has been staying, offering his presence along the way instead of words because those are simply futile. When they get to the building, a friendly man in a white coat leads them down the corridors of rooms for furry patients and to an airy room in the back.

Demon is laying on the padded examination table and picks his head up as soon as they cross the threshold. His onyx eyes are sparkling and he lets out a happy bark, his ears perked up towards the ceiling. If he wasn't paralyzed from the waist down, Lysander is sure his tail would be wagging.

"Hey buddy," Castiel greets his dog with a straining cheerfulness and bounds over, stroking the huge brown-black head. "Sorry for leaving you here, boy. You must've been so lonely all night." He hugs Demon around the neck and the dog lets out a soft, reprimanding 'whuff' as if confirming that why yes, he was lonely.

The friendly man that led them back steps away from where he'd been leaning over the only desk in the room and approaches the two with a needle in hand.

Castiel's arms tighten around Demon's neck and he buries his face in his back. "Just one more minute," he begs the vet and despite his voice being muffled by the dog's fur, Lysander can still hear it crack and knows that's his cue to wait outside the door.

Approximately six minutes later Castiel exits, and wordlessly slumps back against the wall. His shoulders tremble with the sobs he's trying to hold in and Lysander knows that this isn't his cue to help Castiel up and take him home. It's his cue to sit with him and let him refuse to cry until the faculty kick them out.

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It is truthfully an accident. He's with a group of his older friends on the back porch of the bar they have a gig at. They've just gotten offstage and they're surrounded by impressed bar-goers and adoring fans.

There's this one older girl with a lopsided grin on her face and she bats her long, mascara-enhanced eyelashes at Lysander. "You sing sooo good. Here, have one." She has this little container in her hands with colorful squares stacked on top of each other. She takes one with a neon, winking face out of the container and passes it to him.

"Forgive me, but what is this?" He asks, brow squiggling as he looks at it. She giggles like a schoolgirl, as if finding this hilarious. "It's a sheet, silly."

Lysander figures it must be one of those energy sheets he's seen commercials for and is pleasantly surprised by the gift. He's been on stage for hours and a little energy is just what he could use, especially since he's set to be back on stage in another ten. He thanks her with a smile and places it on his tongue.

He doesn't feel particularly energized when it is time to get back on stage, but halfway through the next set he is feeling something. The mild blue bar lights seem a lot brighter and the shadows casted along the floor are pulsing as they stretch and twist towards the walls. The walls themselves are pulsing too, but somehow it's different. It's like they're inhaling and exhaling, rising and falling against their confines.

The music has changed as well. It's floating louder but slower around his head, and snakes through his ear canal as it whispers hidden melodies that the crowd isn't supposed to hear. The bass player lays a hand on his shoulder, surely wondering why he's stopped singing. But the touch catches Lysander unaware and he stumbles right off the stage, not quite minding as his knees hit the floor.

The floor feels spongier than normal and he's thinks he's okay, even if everything is really confusing at the moment. A backup singer comes down and offers her hand. There is a painting of the ocean on the wall above her head and Lysander can swear he sees the fish swimming and doing backflips over the coral. And that's when he's suddenly not so sure if he's okay anymore.

There's a pay phone in the back, which he uses because his cellphone screen is much, much too bright. Castiel comes and picks him up in a little less than fifteen minutes, frowning in concern as he gives Lysander a once-over. But Lysander can't exactly explain what's wrong or why it's getting worse, or why the sea urchins sound like spiders. Thankfully it seems that Castiel doesn't expect him to explain and only mumbles something about a 'bad trip' as he takes his arm and gingerly leads him out.

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They're graduating soon. The whole class is excited and nervous at the same time. Castiel is more the latter than the former, as evidenced by the increase in his smoking habit. Usually cigarettes were an occasional thing for Castiel. He'd smoke a little during the weekends or sometimes at band practice.

Now it's like every transition from class to class he needs one and ungraciously leaves the butts on the hallway tile.

Walking home from school with the redhead a few lengths behind, Lysander holds his breath and waves a caustic cloud of gauzy charcoal out of his face. "I thought you already finished a pack today."

"Borrowed one from the principal's desk drawer."

"Alright. What is it that's bothering you?"

"Nothing," Castiel breathes flatly, his shoulders sagging.

"..." Lysander gives him a deadpanned stare. It's met with a stubborn glower, but eventually the redhead relents.

"Are we still going to be friends?" He lowers his eyes and kicks absently at the dirt that is not on the sidewalk.

Lysander blinks, momentarily bemused this even had to be asked. He shakes his head and smiles warmly as he pats Castiel on the back. "We're going to have a lot of things to worry about, but that's definitely not one of them."

Pfft, I just realized today is Castiel's birthday! It is his birthday and I have given him appendicitis and killed his dog. Fuuuu- I'm seriously cracking myself up right now.