Castiel skips lunch the next day. It's his new resolution; there's no point in it. Castiel won't mind feeling hungry; he's used to the feeling from all those other times he's had to skip due to his fear of bullies.

Instead, he goes straight to the band room. He passes the band teacher, but they don't really acknowledge each other. Castiel is grateful for it; he doesn't want anyone to notice him, ever.

Castiel grabs his guitar and sits down, just as he does every day. Knowing he has more time because he skipped lunch entirely, he decides to try something new. He plays around wth chords for a few minutes, trying to figure out how to play a certain song. Finally, he decides he's getting close and tries to test it out, singing softly as he strums the strings gently.

"Once I rose above the noise and confusion, just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion. I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high. Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man. Though my mind could think I still was a mad man. I hear the voices when I'm dreaming. I can hear them say 'Carry on my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more.'"

But Castiel can't do that. There won't be peace when he's done, because it will never be done. He will always, always have someone picking on him. He'll never get away from it, and that just makes him want to cry, to make him lay his weary head to rest so he doesn't have to ever again.

He wishes he could just make it all stop. He wishes he could just end his suffering, to just get away from all of this, forever. It wouldn't take much; a couple deep cuts, a simple plunge of the knife into the right place, and it would be done. He's almost done it, too, many times. When he's at his worst, after a long day of having to deal with his classmates' torture, he's almost done it, and there's only one thing that's stopped him.

What if he failed? What if he couldn't do it, and someone found him? What would happen then? His family would freak, that's for sure. As if their pity wasn't bad enough now, he'd have to deal with that times a thousand if they knew how he really felt. And it would only make thing worse at school, when they realized they had so much power over him.

Castiel lays his guitar flat in his lap and buries his head in his arms on top of it. He wishes he didn't have to worry about it. If only there was some foolproof way to end it for him, but if there is, he's yet to find it. Maybe one day he will. Maybe.

After a few minutes, he feels a hand on his back. Castiel sits up immediately, his muscles tense as he looks around for who that was that touched him. It's Dean Winchester. Go figure. He's watching Castiel with the same expression his family always wears when they see him, and he doesn't want to have to deal with it. He buries his head in his arms again, hoping Dean will get the hint and leave.

"Are you okay?" Dean asks.

Castiel's only response is the tear rolling down his cheek, hidden from Dean's sight. Of course, it's clear that he's crying; his body shakes with every sob.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks, kneeling next to the other boy.

Castiel doesn't say anything. He can't say anything.

"Talk to me," Dean insists. "Do you want me to get a teacher? Or the nurse, even?"

"Go away," Castiel manages to get out. "Please."

"You want me to just go?" Dean repeats. "I can't leave someone like this. Even you."

Castiel doesn't take offense to that like most people would. He's actually sort of honored Dean cares enough about him to want to stay, even though he would rather the boy go.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks again.

"Nothing."

"Your face says otherwise," Dean replies. It sounds insulting, but Dean doesn't care because it's just Castiel Novak, and Castiel doesn't care because it's just himself. "Come on, let's go get you cleaned up so you look somewhat presentable."

"No, thank you," Castiel stammers. He leaned the hard way that just saying "no" to someone like Dean doesn't fly, but this can't be something the boy honestly wants to do, so maybe Dean won't hurt him for it.

"Are you sure?" Dean asks.

Castiel nods. "Mm-hmm. Just leave me alone."

"Sure thing," Dean replies. "But now that I know this room isn't just for band geeks, I think I'm gonna start coming here and playing myself."

He walks over and picks up a guitar, sitting down near Castiel but not directly next to him. He begins playing chords, a huge step up from the notes he was playing yesterday and at a much fast pace, which leads Castiel to believe he's been playing guitar for a long time. Castiel never would have guessed that any of the jocks would take the time to learn and instrument at all, never mind master it like Dean clearly has.

Castiel watches Dean play, amazed at the sound. The other boy's eyes are on his fingers, but that doesn't surprise Castiel. It took him a long time to memorize where his fingers go without looking.

He doesn't recognize the song Dean is playing, though it's probably because an acoustic guitar isn't meant to play rock songs like this. Only when he finishes does he see Castiel watching him, but the boy looks away quickly when Dean sees him looking.

"You like it?" Dean asks. "It's 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia. I learned it a long time ago and now my brother hates it from hearing it so much."

Castiel just nods silently.

"Well, now that I've had an audience, I'd love to be one, too," Dean says.
"How 'bout you play a song?"

Castiel shakes his head.

"Come on," Dean says. "One song, any song."

"I don't know a song off the top of my head," Castiel admits. He generally likes to figure them out instead of memorize them.

"Well, what were you playing yesterday?" Dean asks.

"Random chords."

"Oh. I didn't realize you wrote music, too."

"I don't," Castiel lies. He writes songs, but none he'd sing at school, or even at home, where anyone he knows could hear them. They're too personal for that. "That was just improv."

"Well, it sounds great," Dean tells him. "You should do it again."

"I'd rather not..." Castiel says, showing a combination of his social anxiety and stage fright.

"Please?" Dean says, the first time anyone outside his family has said that to him. It sounds strange, coming from Dean's lips.

"Why?" Castiel asks cautiously.

"Because you're good," Dean tells him.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Dean replies. "Come on, stop arguing and play something before we run out of time."

Hearing that gets his hopes up that maybe he can stall until lunch ends, but a glance at his watch reveals there are still ten minutes left, and there's no way he can stall for ten minutes. He takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

He begins playing, closing his eyes to pretend he's alone and that Dean isn't standing in front of him, watching his every move.

He has to admit that, as conceited as it sounds, he does enjoy his own music. He always thought it was because it's his, but maybe not. Maybe it actually is good. He finds himself wondering how others hear it. Do they like it, too?

When the bell rings, Castiel is snapped back into reality. He opens his eyes only to be reminded that he's not alone. Immediately, Castiel looks away from the boy that's watching him, putting his guitar away instead.

"You made that up on the spot?" Dean sounds impressed, but Castiel doesn't know if it's a good thing or not.

Castiel nods silently.

"That's really good," Dean tells him.

"I -- I have to get to class," Castiel mumbles, hurrying past the boy as quickly as possible. He doesn't want to talk to Dean. He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He just wants to be alone. At least then he doesn't have to worry about people judging him.