Castiel's eyes widen as he remembers this. So that's why he doesn't like Crowley. And Dean, too. Because Dean is one of them. He was one of the ones to laugh at Castiel when Crowley messed with him like that. Why would Castiel ever trust him, ever befriend him? Or maybe he didn't. He wouldn't have.

Castiel isn't stupid. Well, he wasn't stupid, before whatever happened to him happened. He never would have befriended someone like this. He wouldn't have befriended anyone at all. He doesn't even talk to his family, never mind Dean Winchester, professional dickbag.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks worriedly, seeing Castiel's expression.

"Get out of my room," Castiel hisses.

"What? Cas-"

"I said get out of my room!"

"But-"

"Dean, go," Lucifer commands.

Dean gives Castiel one last glance before walking away.

"What's wrong?" Lucifer asks Castiel. "What did he do?"

"Nothing," Castiel murmurs. "I just... I want to be alone. Can you leave? Please?"

"I can't," Lucifer replies. "Sorry.

"Why not?"

"Because --" Lucifer stops himself. "We just don't want you alone in the hospital. That's all. We're not sure what you're going to remember, so it's probably best that someone's here for you if you need a shoulder to cry on."

"Why? My life can't be that bad," Castiel protests.

Lucifer shrugs. "Well, if you only remember the bad things and not the good things, it could seem pretty bad. Okay, how 'bout this. If you want to be alone, I'll be absolutely silent, and you can pretend like I'm not even here. Deal?"

Castiel hesitates. Is it worth perusing his wish for privacy? It might be nice, but maybe...

"Fine," Castiel agrees reluctantly. "Just... Completely ignore anything I do, okay?"

"Sure," Lucifer replies. "'Slong as you're not an idiot."

"Thanks," Castiel says sarcastically. "That was so nice."

"It's a gift."

Castiel tries to move his head to the other side, but he can't. His neck hurts too much. What happened to his neck? Why does he keep asking? He doesn't know what happened to him. That's the problem. He doesn't know anything about anything and he hates it, and he can see it on their faces when he says it that they all hate it, too. He doesn't want to be the disappointment of the family. And yet, those faces look so familiar, like he's seen them look at him like that before. And then it dawns on him. He has seen it, and it's all he's seen for years.

~~

Castiel noticed it as soon as he got home. His family could tell something was wrong. But Castiel didn't want to talk to them. He was just humiliated by Crowley, someone he thought loved him, and he knows it won't stop there. He should have known high school was going to be bad, but he didn't realize it would go downhill so fast.

Castiel pushed past his family as they tried to talk to him, making a beeline for his room to get away from everyone. He hid from them for a long time. He wouldn't even come out for school the next day. Chuck didn't care too much about that; Castiel could make up what he missed at school. The problem was that Castiel his for more than thirty-six hours straight. He didn't eat, he didn't drink, he didn't get out of bed at all. During the day, there was often knocking on the door; people begging him to come out. He never did. But when they left him alone, all that could be heard were his sobs.

After school on Monday, Castiel knew everyone had been told what happened, including Gabriel. Gabriel tried to get him to talk about it, but he couldn't. Castiel had already decided he wasn't talking to anyone ever again. Not about important things. When you talk about important things, you become friends, and when you become friends, you gain trust, and he wasn't falling into the trap of trust ever again.

But on Tuesday, Castiel knew he had to leave his room. He felt like he was dying from not having anything to eat or drink for that long.

He was the laughing stock of the school. That was just a fact. But no one laughed at him harder than Crowley and the football team. And the next week, they started taunting him. The next week, they started shaking him up a little bit. It took a few weeks for it to become an all out attack, but he didn't care. His self worth had disintegrated in seconds when Crowley showed him it was all a prank. He didn't think he was worth anything, that he deserved any better. So he let them beat him up, and he did it without complaint.

But it got worse than physical pain. He saw the way his family looked at him. They all felt horrible for him. His first chance making new friends, and it was all a joke. A horrible, cruel joke. And he hated looking at them. He hated being the center of attention at home, swarmed by pitying gazes and constant conversation starters Castiel would ignore. He just hated it. He would spend most of his time alone, and soon, it just became the norm for him. But he never got used to those pitying looks on their face, and that was what he hated most of all.

~~

By this point, Castiel is crying. This is just... It's horrible. He hates it. He just wishes he could either stop remembering things so his life doesn't keep getting worse and worse, or figure everything out and he can figure out who he likes and who he doesn't. But as it is, it's too hard, and he just wants to give up.

"Hey, Castiel, you okay?" Lucifer asks.

"Don't talk to me," Castiel murmurs. "Please."

"Of course."

So he doesn't, and Castiel gets to spend the next who-knows-how-long crying in peace.