A/N: So I've updated. Thanks for reviewing XX-SchitsoManiacAmutoLuver-XX, fluffy-CrazyCatLady-whovian, and Guest.

Chapter Four - Burnin' Down the House

Bobby and Ellen were miraculously unsurprised by Cas's presence in their house when they got home the next morning. They didn't comment except for Bobby asking Cas if he and Dean had come up with any more brilliant ways to accidentally poison themselves with mustard gas in the boys' locker room. When Cas replied that no, they hadn't, they were actually lab partners in their chemistry class, Bobby only looked worried for their continued existence.

"And sorry, I didn't catch your name," Ellen said, leaning around Bobby to investigate Cas's mildly bloodshot eyes, ridiculous bedhead and the dark dusting of five o'clock shadow that showed up on his jaw.

Dean tried not to guffaw and set himself to making coffee.

"Castiel Milton," Cas replied, looking about ready to bolt.

"Nice to meet you," Ellen said. "I'm Ellen. I'm in charge of this motley band."

Bobby nodded emphatically and Dean reflected that it wouldn't take a genius to understand implicitly that Ellen had Bobby completely and utterly whipped.

"I should probably go home," Cas said, edging towards the door and rubbing his shoulder uncomfortably. The action made Dean's shoulders twinge uncomfortably as well. Somehow, they'd both ended up sleeping on the floor and decrepit, ancient cedar flooring was seriously not the most comfortable thing in the world.

"Nonsense," Ellen replied. "It's time for breakfast. How's that coffee coming, Dean?"

Dean nodded in response, remembering at the last minute he hadn't brushed the alcohol off his breath yet.

"Get the bacon out of the fridge," Ellen commanded. Dean grabbed it and handed it over without argument.

By the time breakfast was ready, Sam and Ash and Jo had woken up and made their way downstairs enticed by the smell of the bacon. When Cas finally left, it was halfway to three in the afternoon.

•

By Monday, Dean realised he was dangerously close to falling into a routine in Cedar Grove. English with Chuck rambling at him and Charlie and Benny about the finer points of the horror that was John Steinbeck (seriously, Dean would rather go three rounds with a werewolf on his own than try to find a purpose in the Grapes of Wrath), then math with Benny where their angry teacher liked to glare daggers at them (they weren't that disruptive. Dean honestly didn't know what the guy's problem was), and then chemistry which usually ended with Mr Campbell scolding him and Cas for blowing something up. Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately for the rest of the classroom), Campbell had been very firm on his institutional policy against changing your lab partners and when he tried to split them up towards the end of September, Charlie patiently pointed out that he had point blank refused to let anyone else change partners and it would set a bad precedent if he split up Dean and Cas.

Nothing got better in Henricksen's class, and Henricksen had taken to just straight up ignoring them by the time October rolled around. Dean didn't notice that he'd been in Cedar Grove almost a month until Sammy ran into his room one morning to announce he and Amy were going to be Kaylee Frye and Simon Tam for Halloween.

"Halloween," Dean repeated blankly.

"Yeah, it's in two weeks," Sam said, looking at Dean like he might be stupid.

"Oh," Dean replied.

To say he was in a bad mood when he sat down at lunch would have been an understatement. Charlie and Benny frowned at him while Cas picked curiously at the unidentifiable green soup he'd received from the cafeteria.

"What's got your panties in a bunch?" Charlie asked, leaning briefly against Dean's shoulder.

"I've been here for a month," Dean replied. "I just – nah, doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."

He stabbed violently at the car tyre passing for a piece of pizza on his plate and chewed without enthusiasm.

He was still in a bad mood by the time they got to Henricksen's class, and that mood was only exponentially worsened by the announcement they were going to have a practical midterm the first week of November.

"What are we supposed to do?" Charlie asked, raising her hand and looking nervous.

Henricksen stared at her for a second, his eyes sliding right past Dean and Cas before fixing on Charlie with a small smirk. "Well, we've been taking care to cultivate a haunted house on the north side of town."

Everyone in the class exchanged worried looks, except Dean.

"We're going to have to exterminate a house full of ghosts?" Balthazar asked, his nose turned up in mild disgust.

"Yes," Henricksen agreed. He then set everyone the task of breaking out of strangleholds with their partners.

Within seconds of Dean wrapping his arm around Cas's neck, Cas had squirmed his way out and managed to twist Dean's arm into a half-nelson before they somehow ended up sprawled on the gym floor, Cas's knee pressed into Dean's back.

People were staring at them, which Dean figured was probably normal since he was marginally bigger than Cas and usually succeeded in kicking his ass.

"How?" Dean grumbled, his face pressed into the mat. It smelled vaguely of ammonia and disease.

"I have seven older brothers," Cas replied, letting go of Dean's wrist and sliding off his back. Dean rolled his shoulder experimentally and nodded while Henricksen sent them an evil glare.

Dean leaned back on his hands and he and Cas watched their classmates try and fail to get out of headlocks and strangleholds. They were doing quite poorly.

"Seven older brothers who picked on me because I was the runt," Cas added, daggers flashing in his ridiculously blue eyes while he looked at Balthazar.

"Wasn't Samandriel the runt?" Dean asked, nodding a few people over to the scrawny, adorkable freshman being tossed about like a sack of potatoes.

Cas shrugged. "Yeah, but he was actually the baby," he replied. "I was just small and Father wouldn't notice if I showed up places with a black eye or two."

Dean looked him over and decided that Cas was not small. Sure, compared to Benny or Dean himself, Cas was kind of a midget, but compared to anyone else he was a standard-bordering-on-large human being.

"All these people are going to get themselves killed if they try to take on that haunted house," Dean said after a moment, scanning their classmates.

Cas sighed and frowned at them. "Yes," he agreed finally.

"Benny would be fine," Dean decided. "And Charlie probably, but everyone else would die."

Cas looked concerned after that and remained concerned until they were out of school and the four of them were headed towards Harvelle's Road House. Ellen happily provided them with milkshakes – chocolate for Dean and Charlie, strawberry for Benny, and Cas liked vanilla of all things – and fries and sent them off to a booth.

"Everyone in our hunting class is going to die if they go in that haunted house," Dean informed Benny and Charlie.

"Present company excluded," Cas added, elbowing Dean in the ribs. Dean flinched and made a face at him. It was utterly ridiculous that Cas of all people was going to try and lecture him on tact.

"There's nothing we can do about it," Charlie pointed out.

Dean stared down at his milkshake and realised after a moment that Cas had the same suspiciously guilty look on his face.

"That's the expression that means you're about to put laxatives in Henricksen's coffee, isn't it," Benny said. "Again."

"You have no proof that was me," Dean said, pointing a fry at him briefly and then dipping it in his milkshake and eating it.

"That's gross," Cas said.

"That's 'cause you got vanilla," Dean replied.

"So what's your plan to save our gym class from imminent doom?" Charlie asked.

Before Dean could answer, Sam and a cute little blonde girl materialised in their booth, sitting next to Dean and Charlie with their own milkshakes and fries.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said, ruffling his hair and smiling at the girl. "Finally decide to introduce us to Amy?"

"Uh, no," Sam replied, blushing slightly and slurping on his milkshake. "This is Jess."

"Hi Jess," Charlie said. Then she frowned in contemplation. "Don't you live in Speight House?"

"Yeah," Jess agreed. "You live in Benedict House, right?"

"So does Benny," Charlie agreed, nodding at him. "I guess that makes us next-door neighbours."

"Nice to meet you," Jess said, smiling brightly at her. Dean liked her right away.

"What were you guys talking about before we showed up?" Sam asked, slurping on more of his milkshake (vanilla, Dean noticed with distaste. Jesus, what was with it? Sam, Cas…next thing Dean was suddenly going to be drinking vanilla milkshakes and then the whole point of everything would be lost).

Dean considered and then grinned. "What are you guys doing for Halloween?"

•

"This is a bad idea," Charlie mumbled, shining the flashlight around the overgrown path and tightening her grip on her backpack.

"You're more than welcome to go home," Dean replied.

"Fuck you, no, I'm going," Charlie said. "I'm just saying it's a bad idea."

"Of course it is," Benny grumbled. "It was Dean's."

"No it wasn't," Cas said. "It was mine."

"It was sort of mine," Dean replied, checking his strap of shotgun shells full of rock salt.

The haunted house loomed ahead of them and Dean saw something flicker behind an upstairs window. If luck had been with them, the bones would've been buried in the front yard, but in all Dean's experience hunting, luck had never been with them. Especially not on the last job he'd worked with the undead Nazis and a golem, and Aaron. Luck had really decidedly not been on his side then.

They approached the front door and Dean pushed it open, iron bar gripped tightly.

"Anyone home?" he called.

Suddenly, a scream sounded from the upstairs of the house, fading through the walls like it was coming from another dimension. A burned face appeared in front of him and Dean swung the bar through it, the ghost disappearing in a shower of cinders.

"Let's find the bones quickly and get the hell out of here," Benny suggested. The others nodded in agreement and stepped into the house. Another shivering scream echoed around them and Dean groaned. He hated it when they screamed.

"We'll go this way," Dean said, pulling Cas to the left and scraping through the ashes in the fireplace with his iron bar. Henricksen had said something about the bones being in the house the previous day in class, so at least he knew they weren't barking up the completely wrong tree.

There was nothing in the living room except for another ghost that charged them and knocked Cas into a wall, but Dean shot it and it vanished. He reached down to pull Cas up and helped him dust off his ridiculous tan trench coat that he insisted on wearing.

In the kitchen they discovered a bloody wristwatch that Dean immediately threw in the sink and lit on fire.

"It was a nice watch, too," he grumbled, watching the orange flames dance in the otherwise dark kitchen.

"It looked like our ghoul's watch," Cas replied, nudging it with his fire poker. Dean groaned.

"I hate it when they recycle body parts," he grumbled.

A gust of cold air blew past him and solidified into a screaming ghost. Dean ducked sideways as Cas shot it with his borrowed gun.

"When was the last time you went hunting?" Cas asked as they made their way to the pantry. At least, it looked like a pantry, but when Dean opened the door, it revealed a set of stairs down to an undoubtedly creepy and very haunted basement.

"Beginning of September," Dean replied, clicking on his flashlight and heading down the stairs.

"What was the case?" Cas asked curiously, his fire poker raised high against any potential attackers.

"Uh…" Dean mumbled. Then he internally kicked himself. It was going to be a sure-fire way to lose his new friends. Then he was a little shocked at himself. He'd never had friends before, just Sammy, and Sammy didn't care at all. And plus, Cas liked Charlie well enough.

"There was a nest of undead Nazis over in Pennsylvania who wanted control of this golem some Rabbi guy had brought over from before the war," Dean explained. He shone his flashlight through the gloom of the basement to reveal a pile of bones. "Awesome."

Cas snorted and doused the bones in gasoline. Dean added some salt and struck a match. Immediately, a pack of wailing ghosts knocked him backwards into the stairs, his head connecting with a painful thud. The match blew out.

Cas swung at them with his iron poker but they kept reappearing in droves, picking Dean up and throwing him into the beams holding up the house. He hit one with a heavy crack. He couldn't tell if it was the beam cracking or his ribs. When he took a breath, he realised it was his ribs.

He winced and stood up, swinging his own iron bar at the ghosts to keep them off Cas. Through the fight, they ended up back to back, their various weapons raised to dispel the ghosts. There was an unsettling groan from the foundations of the house and the floor above them creaked ominously.

"So it wasn't just my ribs," Dean muttered.

"What?" Cas asked, swinging his fire poker through a decrepit hag-like ghost.

The floor creaked again in a sort of "I'm going to collapse shortly" way.

"Matches," Dean said, pulling them out of his pocket and striking another. A ghost rushed him and it blew out. "Do you want to light it or hold them off?"

"You're injured," Cas replied. "Light 'em up."

Dean nodded and got as close to the pile of bones as he could while Cas fended them off. He struck a match and dropped it onto the gasoline soaked grave. With a disconcerting whoosh, they went up in flame. The ghosts disappeared in showers of sparks and the two of them ran up the stairs. At the top they ran into Charlie and Benny.

"So the floor is collapsing," Charlie said in the most conversational tone she could manage. Dean could still hear the panic in her voice.

"We got the ghosts," Dean replied, ushering the other three towards the front door.

"Thanks," Charlie said. "They were doing a pretty good job of ambushing us upstairs."

Dean nodded and closed the front door behind them. The moment they were off the porch, the dilapidated left half of the structure collapsed and promptly caught fire.

"Well shit," Benny remarked, looking pensive.

"More or less," Charlie agreed.

"Dean, you're bleeding," Cas said, tentatively touching the blood coming out of Dean's nose. Dean flinched away from him.

"So are you, brother," Benny replied, pointing at the gash over Cas's eyebrow.

"How'd you two get out undamaged?" Dean asked. He wasn't complaining. He'd rather get hurt than his friends any day of the week, but he was sort of curious.

"I think the ghosts were more interested in you guys," Charlie said with a shrug. The four of them stood and watched the house burn in silence. "We should get out of here."

It was agreed and the four of them headed back down the overgrown path towards the car Cas had borrowed from one of his older brothers.

"So what happened with the undead Nazis and the golem?" Cas asked as they piled into the car. Dean didn't trust Cas's driving, but there was no nice way to take the keys from him and insist on driving instead.

"We got the golem to kill the Nazis," Dean said.

"How?" Benny asked. "Don' you need the person who controls the golem to do that?"

"The, uh, the Rabbi's grandson helped us out," Dean explained, feeling an unwelcome blush creep up his neck. He was vehemently thankful the car was dark as they drove out of the mountain pass.

"We should call the fire department," Charlie said, pulling out her cell phone. At Dean, Benny, and Cas's panicked looks she rolled her eyes. "I'll make it untraceable. Don't be idiots."

After the proper authorities had been notified, Cas dropped Benny and Charlie off at their house and then headed for Singer Salvage.

"You should get your ribs checked out," he suggested.

"I've had worse," Dean replied.

Cas stared at him for a very long moment and the uncomfortable blush that started at the mention of Aaron spread from his neck to his ears.

"Would you watch the damn road before I have to take away your driving privileges?" Dean demanded, gesturing out the windshield.

Cas turned away from him and stared at the road with the same intensity he'd been staring at Dean.

"Why are you blushing?" Cas asked finally.

In the month and a half he'd been in Cedar Grove, he'd grown fond of the fact Bobby and Ellen lived on the edge of town, but at that moment, he really wished they lived closer and the car ride would end in the next ten seconds.

"I don't know," Dean grumbled. "Getting stared at is kinda awkward."

"You were blushing before that," Cas pointed out.

"Jesus Cas," Dean groaned. He was starting to feel the pain in his ribs more acutely. "What do you want?"

"I'm just curious," Cas said, sounding as defensive as Dean felt. "Did something happen with the Rabbi's grandson?"

Dean groaned and hit his head on the headrest. "Yes, Cas, something happened with the Rabbi's grandson and then five days later my dad ditched me here."

Cas frowned at him. "What happened?" he asked. "Did you get him killed or something?"

"No, Cas, I had sex with him," Dean replied, too annoyed to censor himself anymore.

Cas was silent for a long moment. "Oh," he said finally.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "And if I hadn't, my dad wouldn't have abandoned us here, so-"

"That's why my girlfriend broke up with me," Cas said, cutting him off. "And I can't tell my family because my father is the minister at the church and they'd disown me."

Dean glanced over at him, only to find Cas staring at him again.

"Watch the road," Dean said quietly.

Cas turned back to the road and then pulled into the driveway for Singer Salvage as it started to rain. He stopped next to the kitchen door and let the car idle as Dean reclaimed his weapons and got out.

"If your dad really left you here because you're gay, then he's a dick," Cas said, so quietly Dean almost didn't hear him.

For some reason, it made Dean feel like crying. He swallowed it back and managed a weak smile.

"Well, if your family turns into a bunch of assholes and kicks you out, we've got a spare couch," Dean said, wondering just when the hell he started including himself in the Singer-Harvelle household on a permanent enough status to invite people to live with them.

"Do Mr Singer and Mrs Harvelle know?" Cas asked.

"No," Dean said, closing the door. "It's just my dad, Sammy, and now you."

Cas nodded. "Well, it's just you and Meg on my end, so…"

"Yeah, secrets," Dean agreed. "Got it."

Cas nodded again. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Dean lifted a hand as a goodbye and Cas drove off. When Dean stepped into the kitchen, the bulldog ran up to him as usual and butted his smashed in face against Dean's leg. Dean reached down and scratched him behind the ears and made his way up to the guest room – his room – to sleep.

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