"Praise the lord Jesus Christ hallelujah!" Samandriel exclaims, throwing his arms up and looking at the ceiling as if he'll see straight into heaven.

"You good over there?" Dean asks, amused.

"Michael and I finally agreed on something political," Samandriel explains.

"Wait, but isn't he a conservative and you're leaning as far over to the left as possible?" Dean asks. "What could you possibly agree on?"

Castiel's brows furrow in confusion. Wasn't Michael supposed to be a liberal, too? He certainly sounded like one when Castiel got his first glance at the notebook of opinions last year. He didn't even really notice how he's basically been contradicting everything he wrote.

"Don't try to label him," Samandriel advises. "He gets mad, even though he pretty much fits the definition exactly." Before Michael can protest, he continues swiftly, "But anyways, we're both pro choicers!"

"Didn't you guys already talk about feminism, though?" Castiel asks, recalling the first and only time he ever participated in these arguments.

"Yeah, but abortion never came up," Samandriel replies.

"Okay, I'm all for agreements," Dean says, "but isn't abortion the most controversial topic of any of these within the..." He gestures vaguely as he searches for the right word.

"Parties?" Lucifer suggests

Dean points to him and nods. "Yeah, that." He looks at Michael when he asks, "Why would that be the one you flip on?"

"I'm 99 percent sure you don't actually care," Michael replies.

"And I'm 100 percent sure that I don't," Anna adds. "Come on, school time."

Dean comes with them, sitting in the back seat with Claire while Castiel drives and Anna sits shotgun, explaining how this is going to go.

"So people need to see you," she tells him. "And just sitting in the car is not gonna work. So park for a minute and get out to give me a hug."

"I thought high schoolers don't like hugs, though," Castiel says.

"Trust me, when it comes to Castiel Novak, everyone likes hugs. Anyways, give me a hug, and don't let go until I say so, because there's a fine line between too long and too short, and we have to balance on that line like its a tightrope.  Try not to do anything embarrassing. You're only gonna be there for, like, a minute, but I wouldn't put it past you. That's it. Hug and go. I just need to remind people that I know you. 'Kay? Good."

Castiel rolls his eyes. Wow, such faith. He agrees anyway, not that his opinion matters at all. The rest of the ride is silent, except for Castiel muttering under his breath about how these idiots don't know how to drive and are going to cause an accident.

As they pull up to the school, Anna says, "Quick, pretend we were talking this whole ride."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Sure. Talk. Talk talk. Talk talk talk talk," he deadpans

Anna scoffs. "Wow, great, thanks. I can really see how empathetic you are. You really my social life is on the line here, right?"

"You realize your high school social life is irrelevant, right?" Castiel counters. "Hell, I didn't have any friends at all until my sophomore year."

"Yeah, and look how you turned out."

Castiel bites back a sarcastic remark as he parks the car. "Yeah, okay, well, we're here. Hug and then I can go, right?"

"Hug and then you better go," Anna replies.

As she slides out of the car, Castiel looks over at the school and all the kids in front of it. He can't believe it's been six years since he left this place. It certainly doesn't feel like it. He can remember every inch of this place clearly; where he was safer and where to avoid at all costs if he wanted to go home without a limp. He still feels that familiar dread, even though he knows he's just driving by, and there's nothing to fear. Old habits die hard, apparently.

"Come on!" Anna hisses.

Castiel slips out the the car and gives her a hug, still facing the building. He doesn't wait for Anna to give him the okay to let go. When he sees a kid smack a boy's backpack out of his hands, it's almost as if he can't stop himself from going over there, despite Anna's protests.

The smaller boy is sitting down next to his backpack, pulling his laptop out of it. He opens it and holds the power button, but nothing happens. He tries again, then slides his finger over the mouse pad, but to no avail.

"Hey," Castiel greets him, kneeling down with him. "What was that about?"

"Nothing." He sighs and runs a hand over the slightly cracked screen. "Dammit," he mutters under his breath.

"Who was that?" Castiel asks, because he can't just let that asshole walk free like that, and if this boy won't report him, Castiel will.

"Nobody." The boy slides his broken laptop back in his backpack.

Castiel stands up and offers him a hand. After a moment of hesitation, he takes it, and Castiel helps him to his feet.

"Is your laptop going to be okay?" Castiel asks.

"I don't know," he replies. "Maybe I just need to charge it." His hopelessness is obvious in his voice, and it's clear his laptop is broken beyond repair.

"I'm no computer expert, but I don't see that helping," Castiel says. "I can get you a new one."

"What? Why?"

"Because I've been where you are, except usually with broken bones instead of broken electronics, and I know I can afford it."

This seems to be the first time the boy really looks at him. After a moment, he asks, "Are you one of Anna Novak's brothers?"

He nods. "Yeah, I'm Castiel."

"Holy shit," he breathes.

Castiel chuckles. "And you are?"

"Ash," he replies.

"Nice to meet you," Castiel replies. "Hey, nice hair," he adds, eyeing his mullet. If there's one person in the world who can rock a mullet, it would be this kid.

"Thanks. Business in the front, party in the back."

Castiel chuckles. "Okay, it's official. You're the coolest kid in this school."

"No, that title would go to your sister's friends," he replies.

"I kind of doubt that," Castiel says. "They sound more like the school bullies to me."

"Well, yeah, that's the point," Ash says as if it's obvious. "They can get away with anything. Hell, half of 'em had older siblings in the same position."

"Any of them related to a Crowley, Azazel, or Alastair?" Castiel asks. If this is the second generation of those assholes...

"Yeah," Ash says, sounding surprised that he knew that. "The guy that was just here, he's Ramiel, Azazel Prince's little brother. I don't know an Alastair, but Crowley had a brother here 'til last year."

"Well, I feel bad for that guy," Castiel says.

"You shouldn't," Ash replies. "The McLeods have everything, and Cain was no exception."

"Cain?" Castiel repeats.

"Yeah, you know him?" He glances behind Castiel, probably at Anna, then answers his own question. "Oh, duh. Cuz Anna... Yeah."

Cain is Crowley's brother? What the hell? Does Anna know the family's bad legacy? She wouldn't go out with someone like that, right?

Of course she would. Crowley ruled the school, so Cain probably did, too. Of course Anna would want to be right up there with him, no matter what type of person he is.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Ash asks him. "I'm assuming you didn't just come to talk to me."

"No, I was just dropping Anna and Claire off," he explains. "And then I saw you and got distracted."

"Oh, right, Claire," he says as if he forgot she existed in general.

"What about Claire?" Castiel asks, sounding more defensive than he wanted to.

"No, I just mean, I totally forgot she lived with you guys," he says. "She's basically the opposite of Anna, so it's weird, but whatever. I think class is starting in a few minutes, so I gotta go, but it was awesome to finally meet you."

"And about that new computer?" Castiel asks.

Ash scoffs. "Wow, you're actually serious about that. You don't have to do that for me."

"No, but I'd like to," Castiel replies.

Ash scoffs. "Seriously, are you sure you're related to Anna?"

Castiel chuckles. He can only imagine what Anna's like at school. "Unless I've been lied to the last eighteen years of my life, I'm pretty sure, yeah."

"Well, apparently the apples can fall far from the tree, then. I don't want to overstep my bounds here or whatever, but I can't afford to buy the laptop I want, especially if Ramiel's just gonna break it again, but if I were to give you the name of a kinda expensive laptop, would you be able to buy it for me?"

"Yeah, sure," Castiel replies. "Trust me, I don't have any financial concerns, so price doesn't matter."

"Awesome. Hey, can I text you the name? I don't know it off the top of my head, but I'll find it eventually."

Castiel hesitates. He doesn't usually give people his phone number. But this guy seems cool, so why not?

"Yeah, sure," Castiel replies. "Just, can I put it in your phone directly? I don't want it to get out, so..."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Ash replies. He digs through his backpack and hands Castiel a smartphone in a case that's clearly meant for protection, not decoration. He quickly types in his number and hands it back.

"I have literally nothing planned today, so just text me whenever," Castiel says.

"Can do," Ash replies. "Thanks, man."

"Anything for someone bringing mullets back," Castiel jokes. "Nice to meet you, Ash."

"Right back at ya," he replies, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. "Thanks again, man. See ya."

Castiel watches him walk away, making sure he gets back in the building okay before returning to the car, where Dean's talking to a group of boys. He seems to be telling some story that makes him sound much more important than he is, and the boys are hanging onto every word. They look like the athletic type, so Dean must feel right at home. Castiel stands back, not wanting to interrupt Dean's moment of glory with his "fans" who probably hate his team like the rest of the country, but love the sport.

It's a few minutes later that the late bell rings, and despite the protests, tells the boys to go to class. He slides into the driver's seat looking prouder than he's ever been. It's weird to think fans can be a confidence booster instead of just a mild annoyance.