Chapter Text
Sometimes Sam needs fresh air, away from Dad’s beer breath and Dean’s good-natured teasing. And sometimes just going for a run is boring. Sometimes swinging from building to building is the type of exercise he opts for instead.
That’s where Sam finds himself tonight, donning his Spider-Man suit and flinging himself around the city. Dad won’t notice his absence, and Dean knows he’s Spider-Man and thus that he’s prone to going missing, so there’s no issue there.
Occasionally, when he does this, a fan will spot him and call out to him, asking for an autograph or a hug. That’s not much of an issue either.
What is in issue, though, is when duty calls.
That’s what happens tonight. Sam sees it in the alleyway below the building he’s about to swing away from. Quickly, he stops himself, sticking to the building and observing for just a moment.
A boy is being held at knifepoint by a masked attacker. His back is to the wall and the knife is pressed to his throat. It’s a mugging, one of the most frequent things Sam has to take care of.
Skillfully, he swoops in and grabs the victim, arm firm around his waist. He lifts him out of the attacker’s grasp, careful not to let the knife get too close to the victim. The attacker swings and misses, Sam already shooting up to the top of the building. He carefully sets the boy he rescued down on the roof, intent on going back down and dealing with the attacker, but that’s when he realizes who exactly this boy is.
Castiel Novak. Only the most intimidating boy in Sam’s grade. Piercing blue eyes that Sam swears could cut through anything, paired with pale skin and dark hair, make for a combination that almost scares Sam.
Castiel doesn’t look so intimidating right now, though. “Th-thank you … Spider-Man,” he says, eyes blown wide.
Sam stares for just a moment too long before snapping out of it. He offers a quick nod before diving back down to chase after the attacker, who’s been attempting to run. Sam catches him easily, obviously, and safely knocks him unconscious. He leaves him on a bench and calls the authorities—they should get here before he wakes up—before pulling himself back up to the roof where he left Castiel.
“I’ll get you home once I see that your attacker has been taken care of,” Sam says, trying hard to get back into his superhero persona. “The police are on their way. It shouldn’t be too long now.”
Castiel nods. “Thank you,” he repeats, clutching at his cross necklace and running his thumb along it. Sam’s noticed that he does that sometimes.
Not that he’s been watching him in Biology or anything. It’s just …
Okay, he’s totally been watching him. How could he not? Sam’s eyes are just drawn to him, he can’t help it.
He reminds himself again that he’s supposed to be Spider-Man right now, not Sam Winchester. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Castiel responds, not letting go of his necklace as he nods. “He didn’t hurt me, physically.”
“That’s good to hear,” Sam says, and then falls silent. He doesn’t know what to say to Castiel Novak. It’s Castiel frigging Novak.
After an awkward stretch of silence where the two just stand there on the roof, Castiel says, “You’re very tall.”
How astute. “Thanks, I think.”
“I barely know anyone as tall as you.”
Does Castiel “know” Sam? Has he noticed him—his height, at least? Is Sam one of the few people he knows who is as tall as Spider-Man?
“Me either,” Sam says. “I recently grew taller than my brother, who I always thought was really tall growing up. I think I’m still growing.”
“Right. Sometimes I forget that you’re my age,” Castiel says, hand still wrapped around his necklace.
Is that a compliment?
Don’t act like he’d be complimenting you if he knew who you were under the mask.
Sam just laughs nervously and peers over the edge of the building, praying for the cops to get here already.
“Do you go to Eastbridge?” Castiel asks.
Sam doesn’t turn around. “I can’t share that information,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound cold.
Castiel makes an understanding, apologetic noise. “It’s just, the teachers there are pretty strict. I don’t think I’d be able to be Spider-Man with my workload going there.”
Sam blushes despite himself beneath his mask. These compliments have to be accidental. And since when does Castiel talk this much?
Before Sam can say something embarrassing, a police car finally arrives. The officers grab the—thankfully still unconscious—perpetrator and shove him into the backseat. One of the officers gazes up at the building and waves to Sam in thanks. Sam waves back, and then the police car is speeding away.
Sam turns back to Castiel. “Well, that’s taken care of. I’ll get you home now.”
Castiel lets go of his necklace, the shiny, silver cross lying flat against his chest again. He nods.
Oh, God, this is awkward. “Is it okay if I, you know, carry you? It’s totally safe, I swear I won’t drop you.”
Castiel nods again, so Sam wraps an arm around his waist and poises to shoot out a web. “Which way?” he asks.
Castiel ultimately doesn’t live so far from the roof they cohabitated, so Sam doesn’t need to hold him for too long. He lands gently on the ground and lets go of Castiel.
“Thank you,” Castiel earnestly says, standing in front of the doorway to his house in the nice part of town.
Sam just stares at him. This Castiel seems so polite—and almost sweet. The Castiel Sam (occasionally) thinks about before bed isn’t at all like this. He’s mean and intimidating and the wrong kind of Christian.
But maybe Sam’s perception has been all wrong. Maybe Castiel isn’t the type to look down on trailer trash like Sam. Maybe he’s actually nice.
Or maybe he’s only acting this way because Sam is Spider-Man right now.
“Of course,” Sam answers. He waits until Castiel heads inside and shuts the door behind him before making his way home.
When Sam gets in, Dad’s passed out on the couch (nice to see he got home after all) and Dean is lying awake on the bed he and Sam have to share in the way back of their trailer.
He pulls the curtain closed as he enters their “bedroom” and changes into his pajamas, not minding the feeling of Dean’s gaze on his back. When he finally lays down, Dean rolls onto his side to face him.
“Duty called?”
“Yep,” Sam says.
“How was it?”
Sam hadn’t thought he’d want to talk about it until just then. He rolls over to face Dean and explains, “Saved a rich kid in my grade.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Sam nods. “He wasn’t what I thought he’d be … But that might just be because I was spidey, y’know? Maybe he’d be mean if he knew it was me.”
Dean remains silent for a moment as he considers that. Eventually, he concludes, “Well, it’s good that you saved him anyway.”
“Yeah,” Sam whispers. After a beat, he turns onto his other side and tries to sleep.