Castiel at his 11 years of age had his very first crush.

Mister Ackles, the librarian of his middle school was the apple of his eye. Every day after classes were over he would stay at least an hour extra in the school's library.

He met mister Ackles for the first time when he was ( to his embarrassment ) crying, because he was waiting for his mom to show up for 15 minutes when she didn't. He held a very close bond to his mother, hence he never knew his father, never met him, and when she didn't show up, he thought she'd abandoned him too. She told him she was starting her first of her new job, and he made sense as that was her way of telling him she is leaving for good.

He was sobbing violently when he felt a hand shake his shoulder. He stopped his bawling and blinked up at the crouched man's face. He took in his green, green eyes and saw them filled with concern and kindness. The man's smile was beautiful, his lips pink, looking tentative. He noticed the man had dimples, which he immediately found he liked. He had short, strawberry blond hair, that looked shiny and slicked with something he couldn't recognize. He thought he looked very pretty, akin to some of the glittery drawings the girls in his class did.

After recognizes he liked this man, he immediately blushed and started sobbing again, but for another reason. The reason being that he made a fool of himself crying for his mommy, when he was supposed to be a big boy.

"No, no, please, don't cry, just, tell me what's wrong, did someone do something to you?" –The man's voice was stressed, sounding very concerned, spoken very soft.

This made Castiel cry even harder, because such a beautiful being could be made to feel concerned by such a big baby like him.

"Please, please stop, just try and talk, please." –The man hurriedly spoke, soothing a hand over Castiel's back.

Castiel finally stopped bawling, as the hand on his back, brought much, much needed comfort. He hiccupped through the last of his sobs and turned his way to the man's face.

The man smiled emphatically, still keeping his hand rubbing on Castiel's back.

"See? You're good, you're calm. Now, tell me what's wrong?" –He said very softly almost whispering, as if he would scare off Castiel.

"I-I-'hitch'-I-I wa-was waiting for my m-m-mmom, but she-sheee didn't show u-up." –Which resulted in a series of loud sobs and ended up in a stream of tears. The man tried shushing him down, rubbing insistently on his back, speaking sweet nothings, anything to calm the little sobbing boy down.

Seeing as all efforts were fruitless, he decided that desperate times call for desperate measures. He circled his arms strongly around the shaking shoulders of the boy, and enveloped him close to his chest.

Castiel's lungs hitched in surprise, drowning his sobs, to low hiccups. He turned his red eyes sideways to see the man's face perched on his shoulder, and the man smiled insecurely at the boy.

"If I let you go, will you promise to stop crying?" –The man voiced with a playful tone, and Castiel managed to nod, confused and embarrassed as hell.

The man let go of his small form, and sat on the stairs in front of the parking lot besides the boy.

The man sighed in a tired manner and ran a hand over his face. Castiel twitched with every hitch of breath as he tried to calm himself down, but never taking his eyes off the man's form.

"What's your name?" –The man finally said, as he turned his eyes to him, a small cautious smile on his lips.

"C-Castiel." –Castiel managed to stutter out.

"Well, Castiel, my name is Jensen Ackles, and I'm the librarian here. I would appreciate it, if you would come to the library with me, where we'll wait for your mom to show up, okay?" –Jensen said with a very calm, leveled voice.

"But, but what if she doesn't show up? What if she leaves me, like dad left me?" –Castiel asked his fear noticeable in his voice. Jensen was taken by surprise at the revelation the boy made, and felt his heart pang with guilt and sympathy.

"I'm sure she just got hold off at work. Grownups do that sometimes. She would never leave you. I'm sure. Now." –Jensen said as he stood up from his place on the stairs. "Take my hand, and we'll go in the library to wait for mom." –He said with confidence, and Castiel was taken by his security and took his big hand in his smaller one, raising himself from the steps.

"But first we'll have to get you cleaned up. Wouldn't want mom to see her son crying right?"


Dean experienced his first crush at the age of 9, to the one and only (in his mind) mister Collins.

He first met mister Collins at the start of 4th grade, on not so great conditions.

At the first day of school, they were giving out free book sets for the students in the main hall. The hall was crowded with kids and everyone was pushing someone, yelling, screaming, or laughing. Dean didn't really feel well in big crowds, they made him feel like suffocating, which reminded him of the heat in the fire his mother had died.

He tried to push away all those thoughts as he heard his name being called and he obligingly went to get his set. Grudgingly he pushed his way through the mass of kids, eager to get away and finally- breathe.

Just as he thought he was almost out, a boy he must have pushed through his way, pushed him to the ground, as he fell down. He opened his eyes with an 'ow', and pushed himself up on his skinny arms, and looked around himself to see his books scattered on the ground, a mean looking boy looming over him.

"Hey! Why'd you push me!" –He yelled at the boy who squinted his eyes, making him look cruel.

"You pushed me first!" –The boy shouted back at him, making a few kids of the crowd turn their small heads towards them.

"I didn't mean to, you ass!" –Dean threw back as he finally straightened himself up from the ground and made his way to gather his books. And just as he thought he'd had them all, a foot kicked his crouched form, making splay his form on the ground again, his books thumping to the ground.

"Just like you didn't mean to kill your mom!" –The boy snarled cruelly, laughing at him.

Dean felt his heart thump with anger and adrenaline, his eyes widening in horror. He lunged himself at the boy, making him fall, for a change, and straddled the boy, as he threw punch after punch at the boys scared face. He couldn't see anything, couldn't see the splatters of blood on the boys, couldn't hear the scared shrieks from the other children, couldn't hear himself spit out curse words he didn't know he knew.

He could only feel. And he felt his fists his under the strong bone of the boy's face, could feel his knuckles crack, could feel his blood boiling, could feel hurt, could feel tears sliding down his cheeks, could feel his breath leaving his lungs in gasps, could feel his own voice thrumming through his throat.

Suddenly he felt a foreign touch on his shoulders yanking him away from the boy, and he could finally see the disappearing form of the boy, and the appalled look some teachers gave him, the frightened look on the children's faces, he could see his own legs kicking in mid air, and finally he heard himself yelling "Let me go! Let me go!"

He felt himself being pulled into a room, and flopped down on a plastic seat. He didn't open his eyes, didn't want to. Because he knew if he did, tears will stream down his face, and the principal, or whoever he was taken to would start yelling and screaming at him, not listening to reason.

"Hey..."- Instead he heard a very soft, low voice, and felt a soft brush of hand up his left arm.

Dean still didn't open his eyes, stubbornly keeping them closed, not letting himself be fooled by the soft voice. He knew once he opened them he would see an old man in a suit, with white hair and an ugly mustache, looking at him disapprovingly.

"Why wont you open your eyes? Am I that ugly to look at?" –The man said with amusement. Dean's lip quivered with another surge of tears, at the man's soft voice.

"Yes!" –He said stubbornly, not willing to succumb to this man's game.

"But you haven't even seen me yet." –The man voiced with a chuckle. "You can give me peek, I don't bite." –The man said softly again almost challenging him.

Dean felt himself unable to withhold his tears and began sobbing violently, covering his face with his small hands so that the man can't see him cry.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, nobody's gonna hurt you here."-The man mumbled soothingly, rubbing a hand insistently up his left arm. Dean felt himself calm instantly, deciding to trust this man as he lowered his hands from his face.

And just as he did, he felt the man's hand wrapped around his sleeve wash away his tears and snot. Squinting his eyes in protest, the man released his face and he finally got to see a look at him. He felt breathless as he took in the not-at-all-ugly man's face.

He had very blue, very deep eyes, scruffy cheeks, a stylish disarray of hair, and plum, chapped lips. Dean felt himself blush as he remembered he'd called this man ugly.

"You're not ugly." –Dean blurted out, before he could rethink his words, blushing wildly.

The man seemed to be taken aback, but then he laughed whole-heartedly, revealing a gummy, bright smile.

"Well, thank you, I was worried there, for a second."- And he chuckled again, with which Dean tentatively smiled, forgetting for a moment the whole situation that got him there. But he was soon reminded.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Dean Winchester."

"Well, Dean, I'm Misha Collins, and I'll be your teacher for this year." –The man said with a smile, and Dean found himself surprised that he will be having classes daily with this man.

"Now, Dean, can you please tell me, what got you in that fight, the boy?" –Mister Collins said in a more serious and gravely tone.

Dean returned his gaze to his fiddling hands, gulping for air as he tried to pick up the courage to explain.

"Anytime you're ready..." –Mister Collins said softly again, which gave Dean the courage to speak.

"He-He said it's my fault mom died..." –Dean voiced quietly, feeling his breath hitch again in preparation for another set of tears.

The man's form seemed to go stoic still, from what Dean could see, and he chanced himself a glance up to see the man's horror struck face. He felt a sob shudder his whole body, and his shoulders started trembling as tears streamed down his freckled cheeks.

"No, no, it's not your fault, not your fault, that boy should have never had said that, please, stop crying, please, please..." –The man seemed to blabber, as he threw his arms around Dean and held strongly onto his trembling form, smoothing his hands over the boy's back.

Dean clung his hands to the man's shoulders as he couldn't help resist the security and understanding he found there.

So yes, I'm feeling inspired again! Also last night's episode broke my heart in so many pieces I didn't think it could go after Castiel's death. I would prefer it never happened. ( not that it was a bad episode, just it was so good it drew me to tears ( again ) ).

What did you think of it?

This will have another chapter in which Dean and Cas meet, with a little bit of a surprise. ;)

Also I don't really ship cockles, because these are real men, with real lives, so I will keep this strongly in fiction. Although you do get to see Misha and Jensen together.

Reviews are highly appreciated!