This is the revised version of the original chapter 4.
Even if you have already read the original chapter, I would love to know your opinions on this version.

(for those who commented on the original: don't worry, I didn't delete the chapter, it's just not public anymore)

Please don't forget to vote and comment :)

- Shall I introduce you to my son?

Dean's breath hitched in his throat. He flew up the stairs, his sock-clad feet gliding over the polished hardwood, careful not to make a sound.

The only time he had tried to eavesdrop and he only heard the end of the conversation. If Dr Pam's student had caught him, the embarrassment would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Closing the door behind him, Dean scanned his bedroom. His heart was pounding so hard he felt it in his temples. It had been years since anyone apart from his family, a servant, or a healthcare professional set foot in his room. He had to make sure there was nothing weird in sight.

His gaze swept over one shelf, and he froze. The models! What kind of freak would have self-made models on display?

Voices echoed through the corridor, and panic took over. Dean flung his body towards the bed, crawling over it to the shelf and grabbing the small Eiffel Tower and Big Ben. He skimmed the room in a rush, but he couldn't think of a place to hide them without the risk of damage.

The knock at the door almost made him drop the Eiffel Tower.

- One moment, please. - He tried to sound as casual as he could while placing the models back on the shelf with trembling hands.

In a hurry, he smoothed out the bedding and booked it towards his desk. Just as he was about to reach it, he tripped over his own feet. The impact of his fall sent the swivel chair crashing into the desk with a thud, leaving him gasping for air.

- Dean, - his mother called from the corridor. - Sweetie, is everything alright?

- Yes, of course. - Dean held his hurt ribcage, trying to catch his breath. - No need to worry.

- Dr Pam's student is here to meet you. He's going to let himself in.

Dean sat up, ignoring the ache in his side, and hastily adjusted his button-down shirt. Just as the door swung open, he posed in the nonchalant way he had spent the past half hour perfecting.

A young man stepped into the room, his gaze meeting Dean's. In that instant, the script Dean had prepared vanished from his mind.

Those eyes.

That face. Dean knew that face.

But from where?

The student's lips curled up and Dean froze at the core. Memories of that warm smile, those dark eyes, and coal-black hair flooded him.

It was him. The boy from the deserted road.

He was older now, but Dean would recognise him anywhere. He hadn't met many people in his life, let alone those who saved him after one of the worst episodes in memory.

At the time, it was been as though he were an outsider witnessing a frightened boy crying in the pouring rain, while another boy in a school uniform tried to help. But he still remembered. For the last three years, he played back that scene in his mind, just like many others. However, in that one, he had not been alone.

The man moved to close the door behind him, and Dean snapped back to the present.

He felt dizzy.

That would not work. It could not. It simply could not. Dean couldn't be around someone who had seen him in that state. As soon as he recognised Dean, it would be over.

The guest turned to Dean and... smiled.

- Hi, - he said. - I'm Blake.

Something in Dean's mind short-circuited. Hi? That was it? He had expected at least a look of shock, perhaps a clumsy excuse to leave.

Dean was at a loss for words.

A confused frown slowly reshaped Blake's expression, and he looked down at himself.

- What?- Blake pulled on his hoodie to scan it. - Do I have something on me?

- What?- Dean blabbered. He was gaping at Blake like a fool. - No, no.

Blake had not recognised him. There was not a speck of realisation in those dark eyes, just a very confused look.

Trying to regain some self-control, Dean adjusted himself on the chair. He had to get himself together.

- I'm sorry. - He cleared his throat and gestured towards the armchair near the bed. - Please, take a seat.

Blake glanced at it and then back at Dean. - Thanks.

Dean's gaze followed as Blake walked to the other side of the room. However, instead of taking the armchair, Blake sat on the edge of the bed, even lightly bouncing a few times as if trying it out. He looked back up and smiled at Dean.

- Cool bed. - He sounded impressed.

- Hum... Thank you?

He didn't know if that was the right response, but Blake was already busy looking around the room.

- This bedroom is huge, - Blake said. - At least twice as big as my dorm room. And I share it with my brother.

- Well, I...- Dean browsed the room. - I guess it's big.

- Your name is Dean, right?

He looked back at Blake.

- Yes, it is.

Pressure grew on his chest. His gaze fell to his lap, where he played with his fingers. It felt disingenuous to drag that out; he didn't want Blake to waste his time.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather some courage, and spoke, - Listen, - he began, - I appreciate you taking the time to come here, but I don't thi- - -

- Is that Big Ben?

His head shot back up to see Blake, now standing by the shelf, Big Ben model in hand. Dean jumped to his feet.

When had he even moved?

- It has your name on it. - Blake turned the model in his hands. - Did you make this?

A wave of heat covered his face. He should have hidden the models.

- That- I mean, those- - -

- They're so cool.

Dean paused.

- You... You like them?

- Duh. - Blake put down the Big Ben model to grab the Eiffel Tower. - Who wouldn't? These are spot on. - Still studying the model, Blake walked around the bed. - How did you do this part?

In a few broad steps, Blake covered the floor in Dean's direction, arm out as if reaching for him.

Dean's heart twisted and he jolted back, slamming against the desk in a desperate attempt at conserving the space between them. The flash of pain in his lower back joined the sound of the desktop falling to the ground.

Blake stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.

The knot in Dean's throat almost made him gag and his hands strained with the effort of gripping the edge of the desk. The air filled and emptied his lungs so fast there were spots in his vision, yet he still stared, looking for any sign of movement.

After what felt like forever, Blake blinked and stumbled over his own feet to hurry back to the side of the bed.

- I'm so sorry. - Blake scanned Dean. - Are you okay?

Dean had to look away. The familiar rage burned him from the inside.

His voice was little more than a whisper, - I'm alright.

Without looking up, he released the desk, making his way to the fallen screen. He berated himself with each step. In a matter of minutes, he had made a complete fool out of himself in front of the first person his age he had met in years.

- Is it broken? - Blake asked.

- No.

Dean picked the desktop screen up and put it back on the desk. There was no need to look at Blake, he already knew the look of pity and shock he would get. The same look he had seen most of his life, from everyone, from doctors to his own family.

They stood in silence. Dean kept his back turned to Blake.

After an excruciatingly long moment, Blake spoke. - Look, it's okay.

Dean almost rolled his eyes.

There was a stab of pain in his hand, and he realised he was carving his nails into his palm. He didn't bother stopping. He was angry. Angry at the pity, angry at his problem and, most of all, angry at himself.

- I know, - he said because he had to say something. His tone carried more mistrust than he wished, but he already knew what came next. - It's not my fault. I'm not abnormal.

- I mean, it's not your fault, but, technically, you are abnormal.

Dean turned, - Excuse me?

- I'm not making fun of you. - Blake waved his hands as if erasing the misunderstanding. - I'm just saying that you're not like most people. So, technically, you aren't normal.

Dean could only blink, gaping at the man in front of him. It was the first time someone admitted he was a freak, yet Blake was not acting like it was an insult.

- So, - he spoke slowly, - you think I'm weird.

- Yeah, kinda, - Blake shrugged. - But that doesn't have to be bad.

He was at a loss.

- What do you mean?

- You're different. - Blake smiled. - That isn't a bad thing, is just... different.

Dean knew he was staring, but he could not help it. Blake knew he needed his approval to get the job, yet there he was, openly telling Dean he was weird. There was no pity in his eyes, no fake sympathy in his voice. As if Dean was anyone else.

He felt his lips curve into a smile.

- Most people would just tell me I'm normal.

Blake's smile grew as he placed the model on the bed, still looking at him. Even with the distance between them, Dean felt strangely close to this person he barely knew.

- Then I guess I'm weird too.

At that moment, a small light shined in Dean's world and, for the first time in forever, he felt like there was hope.

***

That evening, Blake sat at a table at a small restaurant close to campus, along with Finn and May.

- So, - Blake said as he sat down, - I got the job.

Finn looked up from whatever May was showing him on her phone. - When do you start?

- Monday.

- And what is it exactly that you have to do?- May leaned over the table with a raised brow. - Are you going to be an errand boy?

- Not really. I'll be by his side and make sure he's safe.

- Oh, - May nodded, - so like a guide dog.

Blake pressed down a smile. He fished the paper Dr Pam had given him out of his pocket and extended it to May.

- A guide dog that's going to get himself a bike.

May took the paper, which was so crumpled she had to squint, trying to discern the numbers. Her eyes widened.

- Does he need another guide dog?- She looked back at Blake. - I can bark.

- Collin's here, - Finn said.

From the entrance, Collin came running towards them, bag strapped across his chest. When he reached the table, he bent over, resting his hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath.

- Sorry guys, - Collin puffed. - The professor didn't want to shut up.

- It's okay, I just got here too. - Blake pulled up the chair at his side. - How was the meeting?

- Don't even mention it, - Collin whined, letting his body fall into the chair. - I'm going to have to work for some guy who's finishing his PhD.

The waiter interrupted their conversation to take their orders, but May quickly resumed talking to Collin as soon as the server left.

- It serves you right, - she said. - We knew since our first semester we needed to choose an internship. You left everything for the last minute.

- Don't be mean to me. - Collin pouted. - I'm already down as it is. Besides, it's a stupid rule. Blake and Finn don't have to do it to get their degrees.

- I interned last year, - Finn said.

- That's because you're an overachiever. Nobody forced you. - Collin crossed his arms over his chest. - Why did I have to choose a degree in biology? With an internship plus the Drama club, I won't have any free time.

- If it makes you feel better, - Blake said, - I'll also be working during the week.

Collin perked up and he smile as he grabbed Blake's arm.

- You got a job? Where?

- Here.

- Here? - Collin scanned the space. - Are you going to be a server? Isn't that, like, cheating on your mom's restaurant?

- Not at this restaurant. - Blake huffed a laugh. - I'm going to escort a guy that has some problems around campus. He rarely leaves his house and has never been to a real university, so I'm going to help him out.

Collin cocked his head. - Like a guide dog?

- Told you, - May said.

- Funny.

Collin ignored them. - How do you even get a job like that?

Blake shrugged. - One of my professors is his therapist and recommended me to his family. Not sure why, though.

- Because you're capable, - Finn said.

Blake smiled at his brother but could not reply as Collin was tapping his arm to catch his attention.

- Important questions. - Collin's eyebrows rose. - First, is he cute? Second, is he single? Third, is he cute and single?

- Sorry, bud, - Blake laughed. - He's deathly afraid of touch. I don't think it's going to work between you two.

Surprised expressions spread across the table.

- Afraid of touch?- May asked slowly.

- Very. As in immediate panic at the thought of it. It's called haphephobia, apparently.

- That must be hard on him, - she said. - But, still, what does he look like?

Leaning back on the chair with crossed arms, Blake recalled his looks. He had spent almost an hour in Dean's room, sorting out the details for Monday and eating fancy cookies, so he had got a good chance to study him.

Throughout the conversation, Dean had this perfect, polished demeanour, but beneath the surface, his nervousness was palpable. He reminded Blake of a hummingbird: striking appearance, but easily frightened.

- He's about my height. - He counted the list on his fingers. - Kind of slender but I guess quite fit, hazel or green eyes, light brown hair... oh, and amazing skin. Like, I'm not kidding, he looks like a doll.

- He sounds cute, - May said. - Maybe a vampire, but cute. Is he cool?

- I just met him today, but he seems nice. Hanging out with him was the best part of the interview. - He scratched the back of his neck, grimacing with a smile. - He wasn't even mad after I scared him.

- What did you do?

- Hold on, hold on, - Collin interrupted. - I need to use the bathroom. Fill us in when I get back.

Collin rose to his feet, and Blake only had a second to spot the person walking behind them. He tried to stop Collin, but it was too late. Collin veered off, and the two collided. The coffee the guy was holding splashed onto his chest while Collin stumbled backwards, hitting the chair with a whimper.

- Fuck, - Collin cried out.

The stranger let out a pained grunt, frantically tugging at the collar of his shirt to pull the scorching coffee from his skin. He glared down at the reddened marks on his chest and bellowed, - Are you dumb?

- Why are you insulting me?- Collin shot the man a disdainful look, rubbing his injured back. - It was just an accident. I got hurt, too.

The man's eyes darted to Collin, jaw locked in anger.

- Is that what you have to say? The least you could do is apologise.

- Maybe I would have if you didn't insult me!

- I wouldn't have insulted you if you were careful.

Blake rose from his seat, followed by May and Finn. He placed a soothing hand on Collin's shoulder, gently guiding him back while Finn and May circled the table towards the man.

- Hey, buddy, - Blake called Collin, trying to break the staring contest. - Calm down.

- He called me dumb. - Collin frowned. - I was going to apologise, but he called me dumb.

- I know, but you have to calm down.

Peeking over Collin's shoulder, Blake watched Finn talking to the man. Whatever he said appeared to calm him down, although he was still tense. A waiter approached, exchanging a few words with the man, who shook his head and gestured towards the door.

As Finn apologised, the man nodded cautiously, although he and Collin were in a tense stare. The animosity between them was palpable.

- Easy, - Blake whispered to Collin.

Within moments, the man stepped out of the restaurant, followed by the curious gaze of onlookers. The door closed behind him and bit by bit, the ambient sounds and conversations resumed, as if nothing had happened.

- This was fun. - May crossed her arms with an entertained smile. - I'm hungry. Where's the food?

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