The morning sky was painted grey, the sun hidden behind an army of angry clouds. The dim light trickled into Castiel's room, through his window, creating a somber atmosphere. Castiel stared blankly at his ceiling, vaguely appreciating how the weather seemed to match his mood.

It was his first day of school and he was anything but excited to be going. There were so many other things he'd rather be doing than starting his senior year of high school, like sleeping.

Heaving a large sigh, Castiel turned on his side to stare at his alarm clock. His alarm hadn't gone off yet. He decided to count the seconds until it did. One…two…three…four…five…six…seven… Castiel counted one hundred and thirty-three seconds before the beeping started. It was deafening in the silence that had permeated the room. Castiel flinched, but couldn't be bothered to turn it off yet. If he turned it off, he'd have to get out of bed, and if he got out of bed he'd eventually end up at school.

He let the alarm continue until it turned off automatically, leaving Castiel's ears ringing in the quiet. Another sigh escaped his lips. Maybe if he burrowed far enough into his blankets, they would swallow him up.

He was in the process of testing his theory, when a harsh knock sounded from his door.

"Come on, Castiel. You have to get up," Anna called.

"No," Castiel grumbled, pulling a blanket over his head.

"Yes! It's your first day back. You don't want to miss it." Castiel could hear her attempting to open the door, but he'd locked it before he'd gone to sleep. Giving up on opening the door, Anna reverted to her obnoxious knocking, "Come on, Castiel," Anna repeated sounding exasperated.

Eventually the knocking became too much for Castiel to bear so early in the morning. If accepting Anna's orders was what it took to make the noise stop, he would do it. "Fine!" Castiel snapped, throwing off his blankets dramatically.

"Thank you. Now, get dressed and I'll get some breakfast ready for you," His sister said brightly, as if she hadn't have just become the bane of Castiel's existence, before leaving.

Castiel scowled as he listened to her footsteps walk downstairs and into their large kitchen. He continued listening to the echoing sound of plates clattering, cupboards opening, and the fridge being shut a little too forcefully.

Their house really was much too big for just two people. Maybe if Gabriel returned, or even better, his father… No. Castiel couldn't think like that. Their father had left them. Abandoned them when they needed him most and that was unforgivable. Sadness crashed over him, like vicious waves, unsatisfied until their victim had drowned. Castiel felt like he was drowning, and there was nothing and no one to keep him afloat. He just kept sinking deeper and deeper into his sorrows until he couldn't get the air to enter his lungs.

After taking a deep, shaky breath, he pulled on the first clothes he saw that looked and smelt relatively clean. His scowled deepened as he took in his reflection. His blue long sleeved shirt was rumpled and his dark jeans didn't look much better, but his hair was the real disaster. He had terrible bedhead. He grabbed a hairbrush and ran it through his unruly hair, but the strands continued to stick straight up defiantly.

Throwing the brush on the floor angrily, Castiel grabbed his iPod and stormed out of his room.

"Hey, Grumpy," Anna smiled sweetly at her brother, "Breakfast's on the table."

"I do not believe I have time to eat breakfast, if I wish to catch the bus to school," Castiel lied smoothly. He glanced at the toasted bagel with cream cheese and glass of orange juice his sister had laid out for him with disdain, he sighed yet again this morning, before preparing to leave.

Anna watched Castiel gather his school supplies and toss them in his worn backpack before speaking. "Well, you have to eat something."

Castiel just shrugged before proceeding to tug his grubby converse sneakers onto his feet, "My apologies, Anna, but the bus really will not wait for me."

"Just wait a second. I'll pack it up so you can eat it on the bus."

Castiel wondered if he could just make a break for it before his sister came back with his food, but before he could make a decision, Anna had returned with the bagel in a plastic sandwich bag. "Here you go."

"Thank you." Castiel replied, trying to relay as much honesty as he could into his small lie of gratitude. He plastered a tight smile on his face that he hoped his sister was too oblivious to realise was fake. He was just about to make his exit when his sister caught his arm. Castiel flinched at the contact. Had she finally not fallen for his ruse? How did she find out about his dieting? Panic set his skin alight. Every inch of him felt as if he'd been mildly electrocuted. His palms began to sweat as he wracked his brain for any sort of excuse his sister might buy. It didn't even need to be plausible, just honest sounding enough for Anna to believe.

"I forgot to give you lunch money." Anna explained as she tucked a ten dollar bill into her brother's hand before patting him on the shoulder, ushering him outside and wishing him a good day.

Castiel let his breath out in one long gush. He'd have to be much more careful in regards to his eating habits around his sister if he didn't want to get caught. Pocketing the money, Castiel walked a few houses down before removing the bagel from the bag and throwing it onto someone's lawn. Maybe some sort of animal will find it more pleasurable than Castiel would have. Did animals even like bagels and cream cheese? Castiel suspected a wandering dog would find it. Didn't dogs eat anything and everything? He hoped so.

After untangling his earphones, Castiel stuck them in his ears and turned the volume up on his iPod. Anna was always telling him he'd go deaf, but he didn't much care. Castiel didn't really care about anything when he thought about it. It was as if a dark, empty pit had taken residence in his heart, and every time he tried to examine that pit, he'd step too far and more pieces of himself would crumble, enlarging the pit. It seemed bigger chunks were crumbling every day. Soon, Castiel would be nothing but a void.

Anna always complained about the melancholy tracks Castiel played day and night. She preferred up beat pop songs, the kind of songs you could dance to in a club. Castiel gave a derisive snort at his sister's taste in music. He liked his lyrics to be meaningful and he liked the sadness that seeped into his mind when he listened to his songs. His iPod was full of music that reflected his soul. That dark twisted matter that lived inside him, mangled by years of self-hatred and anguish.

Castiel watched disinterestedly as the bus drove right past the closest bus stop. He'd tried taking the bus a couple of times at the beginning of freshman year, but had quickly realised it was not for him. The bus was always packed and surprisingly loud for such an early time. Plus, there always seemed to be the remnants of someone's meal sprinkled all over the seats. Perhaps the bus would be more suited to mice, Castiel thought wryly.

Castiel dragged his feet, taking as long as he could. He was trying to avoid the unavoidable. The thought of being stuck in a building full of obnoxious teenagers for six hours made him terribly uncomfortable. The more Castiel thought about what lay ahead, the harder it was becoming to breathe. Fuck. He was being pathetic. For God's sake, it was his last year. Just one more year then he'll never have to see any of his classmates again. Castiel repeated this to himself like some sort of mantra. One more year, one more year, one more year…

When that didn't work, he dug his nails into his scalp until he felt a trickle of wet. "Stop being so pathetic," Castiel breathed.

As an extra precaution against his anxiety, Castiel removed his pack from his shoulder and dug through it until he found his medication. Half of the pills he had hadn't even been prescribed to him. They'd been given to him by all sorts of people. Some of these people were just random strangers, others were more like acquaintances. Perhaps it wasn't the safest way to go about getting a high, but really Castiel was much too tired to care. Besides, who was he to turn down free drugs?

He sorted through the colourful pills spread out on his palm before popping a couple of them into his mouth and dry swallowing. He hoped they'd start working soon. Castiel wasn't sure if he could face the day without being in his temporary dreamy state of mind.

He put the remaining pills that had been in his hand back where they belonged before zipping up his sack and slinging it over his shoulder. Adjusting his backpack, Castiel stood up straighter, raising his chin. He would not be weak. He would not have an anxiety attack. He would not make himself a target. What he would be doing was marching to school at a reasonable pace, heading to his classes, being a perfect student and remaining invisible.

With that in mind, that's exactly what Castiel did, making his way to his first class with twenty minutes to spare. He was glad he'd arrived early. The hallways weren't packed yet and he had first pick at which desk he wanted to be sat at. He chose a seat right at the very front of the class where he would be able to easily see the teacher and the whiteboard.

It was with great displeasure that Castiel realised he was still a giant, glass ball of anxiety, ready to crack at the slightest disruption. His meds hadn't started working yet. To distract himself, he pulled George Orwell's 1984 out of his bag and began reading as he waited for the class to fill and the teacher to begin teaching.

Castiel quickly became so engrossed in his book. He lost track of time, and was completely ignorant to his surroundings. He didn't even notice the classroom becoming packed and the bell signalling the beginning of class ringing. He was in a completely different world. A world where, maybe, just maybe, he could be happy. If only the real world could be such a place, Castiel though sullenly before returning his full attention to his book.

Monday morning, Dean woke up to his brother, Sam, shaking him.

"Dean! Dean, wake up! Dean!" Sam said loudly.

"Calm down, Sammy. Where's the fire?" Dean asked groggily.

"Do you even know what today is?" Sam was giving Dean one of his bitch faces. He was clearly unimpressed with his big brother.

"I don't know, it's September or something, right?" Dean ran a hand over his face in an attempt to better wake himself.

"Good for you, you know the month," sarcasm dripped from Sam's mouth.

"Jesus, Sammy. I don't know. I just woke up. I'm all confused and shit," Dean muttered angrily.

"It's the first day of school, Dean," Sam stated with an eye roll and another bitch face.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. Little Sammy's all grown up and going to high school today." Dean grinned ruffling his brother's shaggy mop of hair.

"Yes," Sam replied swatting Dean's hand from his head, "Now hurry up. I don't want to be late!" With that, Sam turned quickly on his heels and stomped out of Dean's room, leaving a sleepy Dean in peace.

It took about ten minutes for Dean to wake up enough to hop in the shower. He washed himself quickly, wanting to leave early like Sam had intended despite his previous laziness in bed. He'd never admit it to his brother, but he was probably just as excited to be going to school today. Not that he like the educational aspect of it all, but he did get to see his friends, Jo and Ash, as well as all the girls his high school had to offer (or at least all the girls he hadn't slept with yet). All those weren't the best parts, though. No, the best part was that it was a great excuse to get him and Sammy out of the house for an extended period of time.

Ever since his dad had gotten fired from yet another job a month ago, he'd been spending all his time at home in a drunken haze. Dean was used to his dad being home for a week tops, before he would find another job somewhere else. Dean had grown comfortable in their routine for the past couple years. His dad would leave for a couple months, then come home. Of course, he was drunk the entire time, but then he'd leave for another job a couple days later, leaving Dean to take care of his brother on his own. Ever since he had stopped taking Sam and Dean with him, he'd never stayed a month. Dean wasn't sure if something had happened recently or not. All he knew was that while his dad was drunk, he was unpredictable and dangerous, and it was best his brother wasn't in the house when his father turned abusive.

As soon as Dean was clean and dressed, he ran down stairs to get breakfast. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to have his mother make him pancakes like she used to. She would have gone all out with breakfast today, for Sammy's first day of high school, Dean thought sadly.

He didn't have much time to ponder this when his stomach grumbled loudly as the smell of bacon snapped him out of his thoughts. Dean turned his attention to his little brother who was attending to the sizzling strips of meat on the stove.

"Wow, look at you. Making us breakfast. You really are all grown up." Dean teased grinning widely.

"I'd be careful with what I'd say if I was you, or else you won't be getting any of this bacon." Sam quipped.

"You wouldn't dare get between a man and his bacon," Dean growled in mock anger.

"Maybe, maybe not," Sam laughed, separating the bacon onto two plates equally. He then put two pieces of buttered toast on each plate. "I tried to make eggs, but, well, that didn't really work out, so I made toast instead."

"Nice job, Sammy. It's not even burnt," Dean smiled, taking his plate from his frowning brother.

They ate their food in relative silence. The only noises were the sounds of their chewing and the heavy snores coming from the family room couch where their father was sprawled out.

Before leaving for school, Dean went to check on his father, scrunching his nose at the smell. He really hoped the stench of alcohol wouldn't take residence in his clothing. His brow creased as he took in empty bottle after empty bottle of beer. It was like a graveyard. Each bottle represented a gravestone. Dean's mind was filled with the thought that one of these graves would be his father's if he didn't clean up his act. Dean gathered the bottles, putting them in a large garbage bag, then took them out to the rubbish bin.

He took his time gathering up his text books and notebooks, trying to get himself into te frame of mind he'd been in when Sammy woke him up. By the time Dean entered the garage, he was almost back to normal. At the sight of Sam waiting by Dean's car, bouncing on his toes in excitement, Dean couldn't help but chuckle softly at his exuberant little brother.

"Dean, come on!" Sam cried.

Grinning at his baby brother, Dean unlocked the car and the two of them took their seats in the '67 Chevy Impala. Dean started the engine, loving the purr his baby made. He blasted his Led Zeppelin tape, Physical Graffiti, much to Sam's annoyance and raced to the school.

Dean sang along loudly ignoring his brother's bitching. He was in a good mood dammit and nothing was going to ruin it. He was in the middle of singing Kashmir, when he caught sight of a figure with dark hair huddled in on himself, standing on the sidewalk. Dean was driving too fast to see if the person was okay or not. He tried to catch a glimpse of the person in his rear-view mirror, but he couldn't see anyone. Shrugging to himself he turned the volume as loud as it would go, so that it was warped around the edges. Sam pouted, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, praying he wouldn't go deaf by the time he got to school. Wouldn't that just be great if he couldn't hear any of his lessons on his fist day? He kept his mouth shut though. He knew the rules of Dean's car: driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole. Just because he respected the rules, didn't mean he liked them.

Within a minute they arrived at school. Dean parked as far away from the school as possible, even though the lot was practically empty. He didn't want to risk parking where someone might scratch his baby. Not that he couldn't fix her up, but she deserved better than to be beat up by some careless kids.

The car had only just come to a stop when, Sam threw the door open running out of the car with a "Bye, Dean," yelled over his shoulder. Dean watched his younger brother jog over to a couple of other freshman. His hair fell in his eyes and Dean couldn't help but shake his head fondly at his dorky brother as he started gesturing excitedly about something. It was probably about his courses, the nerd. Dean watched as one girl in particular seemed to hang on to his every word. Interesting. He'd have to bug his brother about that later.

Dean got out of his car, gently shutting the door and leaning against her as he waited for his friends to show up. He didn't have to wait long before there was a hard clap to his back, making him nearly fall flat on his face. He turned to glare at the blonde who was smiling innocently at him.

"Hello, Dean. Is something wrong?" She continued smiling, but a mischievous glint shone in her eyes.

"Shit, Jo. The hell was that for?" Dean asked running his hand back and forth over his sore shoulder.

"What do you mean? I was only saying hello."

"Joanna Beth Harvelle, you need to work on making your hellos less painful." Dean ground out.

Jo just shrugged.

Dean sighed before asking "Where's Ash?"

"I don't know, probably still sleeping. I think he might have been partying last night," Jo snorted.

"Partying?" Dean asked confused. "With who? I didn't realise he had any other friends."

"Very funny, mi amigo, but one does not need friends to have a badass time," Ash drawled from behind the pair.

"Well look what the cat dragged in," Jo teased.

"So, I'm a bit hung over. Sorry for having fun while I'm still young and beautiful," Ash joked.

Dean and Jo both chuckled at that.

"Yeah, you're a real looker," Dean said sarcastically.

"What can I say? Ladies love the mullet," Ash then proceeded to toss his ridiculous hair around like a model in a shampoo commercial, making Dean and Jo breathless with laughter. They were clinging to each other for support as they tried to regain control of their breathing.

When they'd both calmed down enough, Dean hooked his arm around his friend's shoulders. "Come on, Kate Moss. We have classes to get to," Dean hooked his other arm over Jo's shoulders. The three of them walked into school side by side and Dean concluded that today was in fact going to be a very good day.