Originally posted on my blog, written for my friend Dean. 3 Any mistakes in grammar/spelling are mine. I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters, nor do I get anything from this. Other than joy. Sometimes.

"You look nervous," the voice was taunting and the elder Winchester ducked his head down, pushing his way past the others, when one grabbed onto his wrist.

"Oh, look!" The bully exclaimed teasingly, "Dumbass Winchester's finding his soul mate today!" His voice was taunting, and Dean turned his head away from the teasing, trying desperately to ignore the words that were being spoken to him. He clenched his fist once he got his hand back, pulling his sleeve back down.

"Shut up, asshole." Dean responded, and the bully looked up in surprise.

"What did you just say to me?" The bully took a step forward and the Winchester panicked, backing up, his words failing him again as he struggled so hard to just get away from the person who was menacingly coming toward him. But this was nothing new. Not at school, at least. He protected Sam from the bullies by being fresh meat for the bullies. Maybe it wasn't a system that worked the best, but Sam was popular. Sam played sports. Sam was able to succeed.

And Dean was beat to a pulp again and again by the bullies who didn't seem to know when to stop. He bit back a moan of pain as the bullies came after him, and was left on the floor moments later, shaking in the corner, his eyes forming tears. And then he heard the voice, and Dean looked up. The voice immediately made him stare in shock, it was like nothing that he had ever heard before. Obviously, it belonged to a teacher, but in this case? It also belonged to his savior.

"Something happen to you?" The dark-haired teacher reached down, and the boy ducked his head down, shaking his head and standing up, shoving his hands into his pockets, not yet noticing the change on his wrist.

It was the first day of school, and Castiel was a new English teacher at Dean's school. He turned his head toward the boy's denial, tilting it to the side and then saying, "You would tell me if there was? I do not need to be feared," The boy nodded his head passively, and Castiel reached down a hand to help him up.

Dean saw the numbers on his wrist, a line of zeroes, and he sighed. Another happy person. He expected that his numbers ran out a long time ago and he had a beautiful life and a family who wasn't a disappointment like Dean was for everyone else. Nonetheless, the younger boy immediately took hold of his hand to stand up, staring at him nervously.

"Thank you," He only managed those two words before the first bell rang, and Dean felt a panicked look take hold of his face. He couldn't get noticed by the teachers if he had already been noticed by the bullies. To be late to class would just make this already terrible day even worse than it had become in the beginning. He snatched his hand away and then went running down the nearly empty hallways, seeming panicked, and in a rush.

Castiel watched the boy for a moment before picking up his bag again, taking them into his hands and then walking into his classroom, sitting down at his desk. It was then that he noticed his numbers had stopped ticking down, and he stared at them. He had been wearing a long shirt, so it could have been anyone, all morning.

The woman who had given him his coffee at the shop and written her phone number on his cup instead of his name. His neighbor's daughter who was in town for the weekend and waved to Castiel when he was leaving his house. The man who had given him directions to the school inside of the gas station when he was late, lost, and confused. Castiel had met so many people just since he had woken up – and he had missed the one. He had missed his soul mate, somewhere in the rush. He or she was out there, somewhere, probably searching just like Castiel was. He had met his soul mate, and he had let his opportunity pass through his fingers.

Dean ran into his algebra class and sat down, speaking nervously as he made his way to the back of the classroom, ducking his head down once he had made it to the seat that he always chose, where no one really could look at him, even the teacher. He pulled out his notebook, and while he pulled it out, his sleeve rode up slightly, exposing the mark of the time that was left until he met his soul mate. Of course, like everything else in Dean's life, there was a problem with this.

His eyes pricked with tears when he saw that they were at zero. All of them. He had met his soul mate, and he had completely missed it. He nervously looked through the room. Was it a bully? Oh, no. It had to be one of the bullies. They were the only ones that Dean had spoken to today, and there were a few new ones in the crowd, as there always were at the beginning of the school year. The people who he despised the most – the ones that made his life a living Hell, and one was the person that Dean was destined to live with forever.

He stared down at his notebook absently, tracing patterns into it. He probably wouldn't like his soul mate anyway, he reckoned to himself. It was probably a jerk, and maybe even not his type. Maybe it was the new girl in the bully group this morning, the one whose hair was obviously not naturally black and looked like she was trying too hard. Or maybe it was the scrawny kid in the back who seemed a little bit out of place.

Dean swallowed all of his assumptions, looking up as his new teacher did attendance. As his name was spoken, there were a few snickers around the classroom, since his little brother, who was four years younger than he was, was in the same class. And everyone knew that Sam did better than Dean. Dean ducked his head down, staring at his notebook. All of this was for Sam. All of this was for Sam.

Sam had met his soul mate last year, when he was in eighth grade (he had skipped one, from the principal's urging). Her name was Jessica, and she was a blonde, a year younger than Sam. The two of them hit it off immediately, before Jess had even realized that her clock had timed out. There had been something wrong with Sam's since he had been born, and it had restarted twice already, so he hadn't thought anything when it timed out.

But it was obvious that Jessica was the real thing – she was everything that Sam had ever needed in his life. He was happier with Jess around, he cared about here. Everything that he wanted was with Jess.

And Dean was alone.

Like usual.

Well, not completely alone. His little brother was sitting next to him in class, staring over absently at his brother's notebook while taking his own perfect notes. Dean stood up when the bell rang, and Sam lightly grabbed his arm, looking at his older brother with a careful look on his face, before he caught a sight of his brother's wrist, and a small smile showed over the younger's face, staring at his older brother happily. "How is she?" Sam asked softly, letting go of his brother.

"I don't know." Dean stood up and walked out of the room, toward his English class. His brother stared after him. He… didn't know? Dean had been sort of excited about that since they had woken up that morning, since his brother might finally have someone in his life that mattered to him, something in his life that actually made sense. And it was something that Dean hadn't had in a long time, not since their mother had died. Something normal.

John had tried to be a normal father for him and Sam, but what could he really do? His wife had died, and he had two small children. He had taken care of them the best that he had, and Dean didn't ask for a better father. But… he was distant. It was nothing new for John to be distant from them, but it was at this point that Dean wished something in his family was right.

One of the bullies shoved him on their way to their next class, and he clenched his teeth together, dragging himself toward the English classroom and walking to the back of the room without a glance toward the teacher. English was his best class. The stories made sense, the poetry had meaning that Dean had never wanted to imagine, but totally understood… English time was a good class for Dean to be around in.

He had had the same teacher for the past two years, a teacher who he hadn't told a thing about himself. But last year, that teacher had announced that he was moving, and Dean was dreading English class. He had finally been making progress, answering questions, doing everything that a normal student was supposed to do. But without the teacher that he had grown so fond of? What was he supposed to do? Pretend like he didn't care, blend into the back of the classroom like he had done in past situations, and in all of his other classes?

He sat down in his seat, touching his fingers against the numbers on his wrist. One of his few friends, a kid named Benny, walked into the room and sat down next to Dean. Dean didn't meet his eyes at first, and Benny raised his eyebrows. After a few moments of pestering, Dean finally slid his sleeve up to expose his numbers. Benny raised his eyebrows. "I was shoved against the lockers. I don't have a clue who it is," He said quietly, pulling his sleeve back down so that no one could see it.

He hated his life right now. However, things got a little bit better when his teacher finally introduced himself.

"Hello, class. My name is Castiel Novak, but you will call me Mr. Novak with no questions asked. I will be your English teacher this year, and since you have been coming to this school for a few years now, I expect no funny business from you. No cheating will be tolerated." He glared at the front row, his eyes migrating to the back, where he saw the boy from earlier, the one who he had saved from the bullies, "No bullying will be tolerated in my classroom or anywhere else in the school or else you will be reported. Do you all understand?" His words were met with a mechanical call of yes, and he nodded his head.

Castiel went right into his class work that day, trying to call on each of his students to see what they knew, and to get to know their names. That was the most important part, he had to know them as best that he could so that he could make sure who he was looking out for.

Finally, they got to the boy from earlier. It had been a simple question – the student's name, and the one thing they'd bring to a deserted island. "My name's Dean Winchester," His voice was quiet, but not shy. "And I'd take my little brother with me, no questions asked. Sam would know the way off that thing." He said, looking up challengingly. Everyone else had been talking about their technology, or things they thought would impress Cas (especially a girl who had giggled, unable to even say her answer, apparently, they found the new teacher 'attractive'). Castiel smiled with Dean's answer, nodding his head.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester. I have the feeling your brother must be much better suited for island life than mine. Any of mine would probably end up crying and begging me to help him out of the way," He responded, a slight smile quirking at the corners of his lips. The girls whispered among themselves with a giggle before one raised her hand.

"You have brothers? How many of them? What are their names?" Another, thinking she was clever, and quiet, whispered to her friend, questioning if they were as attractive as Castiel was. Cas heard, and his cheeks flushed red.

"Er, I have a rather large family. Gabriel was the brother I was thinking of the most," He smiled slightly, shaking his head as he had heard the words. He ignored the whispered question from the other girl, knowing better than to give into their giggles and whispers. Eventually, it would all die down, and he would be able to continue on with class as normal.

Dean smirked slightly toward him for a moment before someone else caught the younger boy's eyes, and he looked away from the teacher, seeming ashamed of everything that he had just said. Castiel stared at Dean for a moment longer before nodding his head slowly, continuing through the rest of the class for his attendance.

Dean stood up at the end of class with the rest of the students, gathering his books slowly. Castiel had assigned them homework for the night, which sort of bothered the rest of the class, but Dean was excited. Because English was the one class that he was good at. And it would give him an excuse to stay in the library for longer than he had to, really, since he could claim to be doing homework. He walked from the door, reaching out to take the homework from Cas when their hands brushed together,

Dean looked down quietly as Mr. Novak held on for a moment longer than really necessary, and he apologized quietly, tugging his hand away, but Cas only tightened his hold. "Do they do it often?" His voice was quiet, watching Dean.

"Do what?" Dean grumbled, knowing what he was talking about, but tugging his arm away.

When he left the classroom, the reality of things came tumbling down on him. He hadn't just met bullies and new classmates this morning. He'd met Castiel, Mr. Novak. His wrist had shown a line of zeroes as well. He had seemed rushed, nervous, even if just for a first day.

Dean stared at the door for a moment longer before running to the bathroom, feeling sick. His soul mate was his English teacher.

Why couldn't anything about his life be easy?