Chapter One: Pilote

Autor's note: So, this is my first fanfiction. Or, well, the first one I publish~ It's high school AU, and Dean's only a year older than Sam because I want to include Sabriel later on, and that would've been awkward, with Gabe being older than Cas, like, 19, and Sam being just 13… Anyway, that's it for now, and I hope you enjoy!

X

It was typical. Just another proof that Fortuna hated him. Of all places they could've ended up it had to be Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Sure, it wasn't exactly a village, but for someone who had moved as often as the Winchesters it was not exactly a city, either. They'd lived in Manhattan, LA, San Francisco. So why did it have to be the 'best little city in America'?
The answer was easy. John Winchester, depressive due to his wife's early death and unable to find distraction in anything else but constantly changing locations, worked as a mechanic. And a mechanic didn't earn enough money to keep up a lifestyle like that. Until now they'd pretty much lived off his father's heritage but they were running out of money and moving was expensive. And so he'd decided to take up permanent residence here, mainly because of the fact that an old friend of his, Bobby Singer, lived here as well. So basically, instead of living in a big city, an old grumpy man was what they got.

The house wasn't that bad at all, and John could pay the rent with what was left of the money, and with his new job. It was rather close to the city centre and relatively big, two bathrooms and three bedrooms. Which was good since Sam and Dean, despite being fairly close due to their often absent father, kept having argument after argument whenever they had to share a room. There was their different taste in music and the fact that Sam was a nerd, according to Dean, while the older Winchester brother found school to be an annoying distraction, rather than anything of actual use.

It was safe to say that neither of the Winchester boys was actually happy about this change. Relocating had been John's way to deal with depression, had distracted him. He didn't know how he should proceed from now on, without getting to pack and unpack his things, exploring new towns pretty much every month. And then there was Sam, his youngest son, who had a girlfriend in California, the last state they'd lived in, and even though the difference was just two hours living in different time zones was not what the sixteen year old considered as the perfect lovey-dovey relationship. And Dean, seventeen, was just annoyed by the fact that this was the town his father had chosen in the end, and not LA with Hollywood chicks and cool cars or Manhattan with so many burger restaurants he hadn't known where to start. It was almost ironic, how he pitied himself for his tough luck when they arrived, not knowing that he had never been luckier, and that Fortuna whom he'd cursed before was smiling upon him the very instant he opened the car door.

Sam, wearing his best bitchface, pocketed his phone before getting out of the Impala, Dean following after him, gaze fixed on the ground, hands in his pockets. He tried to keep a rather straight face, despite his discontent, knew that John wasn't doing this to spite them. Well, his attempts weren't exactly successful, but he had tried, unlike Sam, and in his opinion, that was something. John unlocked the front door and let them inside with a not so genuine smile, but at least he tried to make it more appealing.
"Heads up boys. It's not so bad, right? You've got your own rooms, I've got a job… And the town's pretty nice."
Sam didn't say anything but the look he threw at John was more than enough, a bitchface of Sam's said more than thousand words, and Dean left the room before they would start arguing again. It happened often, these days, and it was ugly, every time. Dean would never admit it but yes, it hurt him, and therefore it was nothing he needed to watch. So he went upstairs to his room, which was already furnished. They didn't own much furniture, since they spent half of the time in motel rooms, so there wasn't more than a bed, a closet and a desk complete with an uncomfortable chair. As long as there was a mattress it was enough for Dean, though, and he plopped down with a soft thud, arms folded. He could hear Sam and John fight but it didn't sound too bad this time, and therefore didn't cause more than a roll of his green eyes followed by a sigh as he rolled onto his side. He hadn't slept much during the last days, and didn't really know what else he could be doing.

It was already dark outside when he woke and his stomach was rumbling wildly, probably because of the delicious smell of food, causing him to stand up and return to the kitchen. A bag was standing on the table, obviously filled with burgers – and pie! – which did brighten Dean's mood considerably. Sam, picking at his salad, was still looking pretty pissed off but at least he was sitting here and hadn't locked himself up in his room again. Not playing the diva, not even texting Jessica. John, too, seemed to be in a better mood than he would usually be after a fight with Sam. It was the relief that always showed itself after relocation, when everyone was glad they'd get to sleep in their own beds tonight, wouldn't have to share a motel room. As always, though, that hint of good mood would vanish soon enough, would probably be gone by tomorrow morning when the next argument was due. Nothing Dean wanted to think about, though. It was good like this, he relished the rare moments when they were acting like an actual family, complete with a pubescent diva, an older brother, who was the handsome one, of course, and a somewhat crazy father, and he didn't care whether it would last or not.

It didn't last, of course. A harmless remark of Dean's caused another fight during breakfast and Sam didn't calm down until they reached their new school. Dean was almost afraid his bitchface was stuck this time but when they got out of the bus his mood seemed to brighten. Of course, the nerd would feel like that. Whereas Dean and school…
Oh, school. Dean wasn't an idiot, he just wasn't interested in Maths or History or English Literature, or anything the like. The girls were what made school bearable, and even they were a pain in the ass sometimes. One kiss and they wanted a relationship, preferably with kids and a dog and a nice house with a white fence. But Dean wasn't one for relationships. Hadn't been until now, that is, with all that moving around and farewells and never seeing his schoolmates again, because he didn't fancy having Sam's problem. Life was hard enough as it is, there was no need to complicate it any further. Now, however, now everything was different. Dean still didn't think he would be a good boyfriend, but he wasn't that opposed to giving it a try anymore. Wasn't going to rush anything, though. He had been living without any serious relationships for seventeen years now, he didn't need one. Didn't believe he'd get to have one. And again, ironic.

This was something Dean would keep denying later on, it was just too frigging girlish, but when he entered his Maths classroom there was, for just a split second, a strange feeling overwhelming him. Warmth, mainly. Not only warmth, though, there was something else… A tingling sensation in his stomach. Not butterflies, though those weren't far away, no, not yet. Anticipation was the right term to describe it, anticipation of happiness, luck. Something would happen, something new, that was why all his alarm bells were ringing, and it was what all his instincts told him, but Dean ignored it. Probably the sleep deficit, or the stress. He shook his head and the feeling vanished, and he forgot about it rather quickly. Forced himself to forget but hey, same thing.
Being the new kid was something he was absolutely used to, and he didn't even mind it anymore. After being introduced by the teacher he slumped down in the only free seat, getting his books out with a sigh. The boy sitting next to him didn't even look up when he sat down and Dean raised a brow, then tried to get rid of the awkwardness by clearing his throat quietly.
"I'm Dean. You?"
At that his new classmate glanced up and the first thing Dean noticed was the colour of his eyes. Piercing blue orbs, a colour like the sea on a postcard. Dean had seen many things in his young life, but he'd never seen eyes coloured like that. Apart from his eyes the boy looked rather normal, dark hair, brunet, almost black, slightly chapped lips, handsome. The last bit, Dean was thinking that in a completely heterosexual way, of course. Because he was into girls. Boobs. Soft bodies, gentle touches, tender kisses, boobs. Not into guys, or kisses that were a battle rather than affectionate, or muscles or… No. Boobs. Boobs were good. Boobs were safe.
"Castiel."
His voice was grave, low, and so interesting, at first Dean didn't even realise that he had answered his question. However, when his brain finally caught up he couldn't but snort.
"Castiel? C'mon, dude. That's not a name."
The boy didn't correct himself though, didn't laugh, didn't admit the joke, and so Dean's smirk vanished and he coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Well, way to get new friends, Winchester.
"Er, sorry. Didn't mean to… 'S just a pretty… unusual name, right? I'm gonna call you Cass, then."
Castiel just nodded and then turned back to his book, and Dean stared at him for a moment before doing the same. What a weird boy. Weird, and interesting.