My take on season 10. The prologue is not directly related to the rest of the story, but it is important. Will contain eventual Destiel.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

A lifetime ago.

Dean grinned as he was led behind the back of the school, hand clasped in another's. He felt giddy, drunk on adrenaline despite the trash and dirt surrounding them. They slowed to a halt beside a relatively clean space of brick wall, right beside the outside exit for the gym just for the hell of it. It wasn't nice, it wasn't romantic, and yet somehow it felt more exciting than anything else at the moment.

Dean pushed the boy up against the wall, smirking.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," the boy said breathlessly as Dean placed his hands on either side of the other's head. "We should be in class."

"To hell with class. I'm up for a little adventure," Dean said huskily.

The boy's pupils dilated as he grinned back at Dean.

This wasn't right. It was completely, completely wrong, and Dean's heart was pounding in his chest just at the thought. With girls, it was different, safe. He knew what he was doing. Hell, he still loved girls and everything that came with them. But lately he'd been eyeing up the other sex without even realizing it, until Romeo here came sauntering in and gave him one look and he knew. The Romeo in question was currently breathing heavily two inches from him, so Dean decided that this was it. There was no going back now.

He threaded one hand through the boy's blond hair and suddenly their mouths were connected, warm and wet and terrifyingly new. There was just the slightest bit of stubble on the boy's jaw, and Dean ran his thumb over it, reveling in the feeling.

The boy groaned loudly just as the gym door swung open.

Dean's heart froze in his chest as the gym coach and the entire class paused at the sight of them, red lipped and disheveled, still in each other's breathing space. The coach's face began to redden while the class remained in stunned silence.

"You..." he sounded winded. "You two...to the office. Now."

Dean didn't make eye contact with the boy for the rest of the day.

The road passed by like it always did, despite how hard Dean's world had been flipped around. Dreary raindrops smeared down the windows, the only noise besides his father's angry breathing and the rumble of the car.

Dean's fingernails bit into his palms, leaving white crescent marks. "Look, Dad-"

"Don't." The cold reply almost made him wince. "Just...save it, Dean, at least until I'm not behind the wheel of a car."

Dean bit his lip, a sinking feeling settling deep in his stomach.

They arrived in tense silence at the grubby motel. As they pulled up in front of their room, Dean noticed Sam through the window, reading a book in peace. His heart sank even further. The kid was only eleven-why should he have to deal with Dean's mistakes, too?

They walked up to the door, and suddenly Sam looked up, catching sight of Dean and grinning. While his father fumbled for the key, Dean tried to mouth, "Go!" to Sam, but his brother only looked confused.

The door creaked open, and Sam stood from the bed, dog-earing one of the pages. "Hi, Dad. Hey, Dean."

Their father pulled out a five dollar bill from his pocket. "Go get something from the candy machine."

Sam took it, brow furrowing. "Why-"

"Now!"

Sam scurried out the door, looking a little scared.

There was a beat of quiet. Dean's heart was beating hard, trying to escape the inevitable. His father was turned away, face hidden. The suspense was almost unbearable.

"Dad..."

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your principal tells me that you were found behind the school with some...boy. Is this true, Dean?"

Dean looked at the ground. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.

"Can you explain to me what exactly you were thinking?"

Dean desperately swallowed his snide remark and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered. "I don't know what came over-"

"No son of mine will ever lay eyes on another man, understand?"

"Yes, but Dad-"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" John roared, and Dean couldn't hold back his flinch.

John heaved a sigh. He sat down on the bed and buried his head in his hands. Dean wanted to sit next to him, explain everything, but he knew that his father would never understand.

He was right, these feelings were unnatural. Dean tried to swallow around the lump in his throat and stood up straight. "Dad, listen. Please. It was just an experiment, I swear."

John said nothing. Dean tried again. "Dad, I swear, I'm not interested in guys." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

Finally, his father spoke. "Dean...son," he said softly, dropping his hands and looking at the brunet. All the anger seemed to have evaporated, and now all that remained was weariness. "I love you. I really do. You and Sammy are my boys. But I don't know what I've done to disappoint you this much."

Dean was confused. "Disappoint me?"

John shook his head. "Is this some act of rebellion? I'm used to that attitude with Sam, but I always thought that I could count on you, Dean."

A sharp sting of hurt shot through his chest at his father's words. Dean's eyes fell to the floor as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to fall. Boys didn't cry. Dean didn't cry.

"No, Dad," Dean said. "I was just curious. That's all."

His father eyed him, and then sighed, nodding and smiling thinly. "All right, Dean. But this had better be the last time."

Dean nodded hurriedly. "Of course, Dad."

The older man stood, walking over to the hotel room door and placing his hand on the doorknob. "Take care of Sam, alright? There's a shifter in town. I'll be back in a few hours."

Dean nodded again and looked down, torn between hurt and relief. John paused, as if he wanted to say something else, but by the time Dean glanced up again, the door had slammed shut.

A minute passed, and the door cracked open again. A small figure slunk into the room, two candy bars clutched in hand. He handed one to Dean, who forced a smile for the sake of his brother. He knew Sam didn't buy it for a minute.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's middle and pressed his face to his brother's chest. "It's okay, Dean."

Dean hugged his brother back and tried not to cry.