Beep… Beep… Beep… Sirens… Shouting…

"We're losing her..!" Pain shot through her chest and her head. She slowly blinked, opening her eyes only to be blinded by the harsh light. There were people over her; blurred silhouettes and she did not know where she was or what was going on. Confused. Hurt. Pressure. Flowing in and out of consciousness.

"Her blood pressure is dropping…!" Trying so hard, she screamed out trying to find ground, flailing her arms around in panic and for purchase.

"Mommy!? Tessa!?" Trying to ignore the pain that shattered her body she gripped the plane she was hoisted to and tried pushing up, being forced back down. "Where's… Where's my mommy!? Where's my sister!? Tell me what's going on! What's going on!?"

"Stat!" THUMP! "She's losing a lot of blood!"

"Hurry! I need 10 ccs…"

"You need to calm down!" Flat line…

Absentmindedly and scrubbing hard, pink was slowly blossoming from under the wet rag; the pink flowing through and staining the water pooled underneath like smoke.

"Angel!" The young girl transitioned back to the present; looking up at her manager, Abaddon Smith; a middle-aged woman with a fiery attitude that puts even her red hair to shame. She was kind to Castielle, as was everyone else who took pity on her. "That is the third time in a row just this night alone in which you've gone off in that lil' head of yours." Abbie looked down at Castielle, hiking her hands on her hips and shaking her head; pity and disappointment shadowing her expression.

Kneeling down, Abaddon picked up Castielle's hands, slowly inspecting the wounds and gashes on her palms, hissing at how fresh they looked. Clicking her tongue she looked up. "You need to go see a doctor about this, sweetie. This can't be good for you." Castielle fixed her gaze down at the countertop that was being scrubbed; still wet with soapy water and traces of blood. Looking back at the red head, Castielle ducked her head sheepishly and apologetically, worrying her bottom lip, looking up at Abbie through her lashes. Sighing, Abbie rolled her eyes and walked back to her office to retrieve her first-aid kit to start patching up the young girl's hands.

It was nearly the end of another late night shift on a Monday morning at the All-Star diner for Castielle Angelus; a kind-hearted, hard-working, seventeen year old who attended, and was graduating from, the local high school. She was slender and stood straight at the height of five-foot-six, sporting a messy mound of pixie-styled, raven black hair, bangs coming down one side (she did her own hair because it was a cheap solution) and shockingly blue eyes. More than likely, if you didn't know who she was, she would just look like a very cute and feminine boy, probably looking confused more so than not.

All the locals however knew her and if not, they knew of her situation as to why she worked so hard. She had lived in the small town of Garrison Heights, Georgia her whole life and she believed that she would never leave. She didn't see a future outside of the city and for perfectly well-rounded reasons; family. Her priority has always been family; running straight with blind faith.

"Castielle..." Abbie sighed while walking around the corner of the booth and dubiously resting her hand on Castielle's shoulder. Castielle stood with her back straight, averting her eyes and tilting her head forward in submission. Abbie sighed before what Castielle thought would be a continuing of a lecture, but that wasn't the case. "Go home early. Rest. You have a test this week, don't you? I ain't about to lose one of my best employees to blood loss and a failing grade." Castielle shot a look at Abbie and fidgeted in protest. The attitude and the looks Abaddon could give would make anybody wilt in their spot; including Castielle, so she nodded slowly and pulled off her apron, prepping to leave in the late hours of the night.

The town itself is very small, everything was within walking distance and car trips were seldom despite every household owning one. Castielle pulled on her peacoat and began walking through the chilled January air. Checking her watch; it was almost two in the morning, so she quickened her pace while stifling a yawn to get home as quick as possible.

Her house was small but livable. There are two stories, the first story with a shoe closet and staircase left to the doorway and a living room immediately to the right, the kitchen and dining room decently sized; no doors or walkways to divide any of the rooms. There is a small guest bathroom under the staircase. Going upstairs there are 3 bedrooms, the master bedroom visible right at the top of the stairs along with a washer/dryer slot. The master bedroom has its own bathroom and closet, the other two rooms although unevenly sized share one separate bathroom, 3 doors faced towards each other.

Once Castielle got through the door, she could smell the stench of the alcohol coming from her father passed out on the couch. Sighing with both relief and annoyance, she toed off her shoes before walking over to administer to him with some water, pills, and a waste basket. She slid him over to his side and when she knew he was okay, she went upstairs to her room to get ready for bed. After showering, brushing her teeth and putting her pajamas on, she curled into her bed with a headache and lulled into sleep.

Eyes slowly opening, the sky was still dark and the sun was not going to rise for some time soon; it was time for Castielle to wake up and get ready for school. This was a routine she knew all too well, after years of following the same schedule really. Fixing herself up in the bathroom and getting rid of the morning breath, she went downstairs to see her father still passed out on the couch. She shook her head and shimmied her flip flops on to go retrieve the newspaper. Her father might have been a drunk, but he still held value in his early morning newspapers.

Walking out, Castielle flinched at what she never thought of what would've happened then or in the near future. Scratch that, the future overall. There was a moving truck placed in the house right in front of her own and two men in uniform were carrying boxes into the house while two other males hopped out of a sleek, black muscle car, looking around confused. Even in this distance, she could see how beautiful the older male looked from the second glance and before she knew it, she was staring while picking up the newspaper from the floor. He was tall, but not as tall as the younger looking one. He was evenly tanned with short brown hair, hints of natural blonde highlights and a bit of scruff along his jaw. Even with the pea coat he had on, she could see his broad shoulders. The younger boy was handsome, with floppy brown hair and he moved around awkwardly. He was tall and thin, but she could see his muscled back that was faced her way. At that moment, Castielle knew that this was a whole new can of worms. This was trouble.

ɗ ∞ ϲ

Dean Henry Winchester parked before stretching and yawning unceremoniously. He reluctantly hopped out of his car and looked around muttering to himself, "It's too early for this shit…" He just arrived to the backwater of a town from Sioux Falls, South Dakota with his kid brother for school. In Sioux Falls, he had attended the University of South Dakota for his undergrad before deciding to move down for graduate school at Emory for a degree in Medicine. For Sam, his brother, who was going to attend school at Georgia Tech as an upcoming freshman, Dean would go anywhere for. He looked at the house he was moving into; he never would've thought that he would have his own mortgage.

While he was done with school for the time being, he moved down to settle until Sam was done with his senior year, but the younger male complained. All he did was complain about it.

"Dean, did we seriously have to move!? It's my senior year. I was supposed to stay and graduate with my FRIENDS!" Dean draped over the roof of his car and folded his hands on top, squinting at his brother and shaking his head before his vision encased a sleepy looking boy standing across the street. Sam noticed the shift in his brother's eye, making him twist his torso around to see a slim boy padding out barefoot wearing sweats and a baggy, long sleeve picking up a newspaper. Out of habit and manners, both of them raised their hand in greeting while the boy just stood there blinking.

"Good morning, Angel!" A neighbor was walking towards the newly bought home with a basket of some sorts while calling out and waving at the bed-headed boy who only nodded in acknowledgement and turned around, walking into the house and shutting the door behind them. Dean furrowed his eyebrows at the closed door and his brother, disappointed and feeling unwelcome already, minus the cheery looking man who was walking over with his peace-offering basket. Under his breath, talking between himself and his brother he muttered "crap…" The portly, jolly man came up and shook both Dean's and Sam's hands a little side too tight and wild before shoving the gift basket over and introductions. Sam, after the meet and greet huffed at his brother and stalked away while Dean played the good neighbor role; taking up much of his time.

By the time Mr. Adler left, Dean was worn out from the conversation, the 17 hour drive and just the idea of having to adjust. Before he walked over to the front door to help, he turned around and looked at the green front door of his neighbor. "Huh…" Dean shook his head and turned back around in favor of making up with his brother and finally breaking in his newly obtained home, a beautifully old two-story house. He got the house for cheap and it was bare; which was even better for Dean's more creative side and accommodations for him and his own brother.

ɗ ∞ ϲ

Castielle placed the newspaper on the table top before starting on breakfast for her and her father who was still on the couch. The kitchen pleased her and it allowed her to work well and hard without thinking much. Losing herself in the rhythm of cooking, she failed to hear her father ramble into the kitchen. Turning around, she yelped at the sight of the gangly, sickly looking man. Richard "Dick" Angelus, a once respected businessman of the state, glared at Castielle, standing up straight and tilting his head down to intimidate his daughter. Growling and in a low voice he warned her.

"You best watch yourself, girl…" He stomped over, corning Castielle until she was pressed hard and sharp on the edge of the counter, the hairs on the back of her neck rising, her knees shaking and at risk of buckling under her due to fear. Castielle's breath hitched and she looked down, bearing her neck in submission to her father. "Don't get too close to 'em boys, y'hear me girl?" He breathed hot and heavy on her face and she wanted to retch with the smell of alcohol, vomit and morning breath on his tongue. She clenched her teeth tight together while he started to rub his hands along her sides.

Looking into his eyes, all Castielle saw was someone who was dead and broken, nothing but a shell of what she remembered her father to be. Satisfied, Richard walked over to the dining table in approval of his daughter's submission. Castielle scrambled behind to finish cooking breakfast and not to keep her father waiting. He was not a patient man.

After breakfast, Castielle finished cleaning the kitchen and ran upstairs to change into a suitable shirt, a hoodie and pair of jeans. She picked up her messenger bag for school, crossing it over her shoulders and ran down the stairs. Castielle was all for discretion and finesse, especially so sinceDick was passed out in another drunken haze, but Castielle just could not care; she was going to be late for school.

She walked to school every day since it was within a couple of blocks but she had to run today. Shoving her shoes on, she quickly ran out the door only to see the black car gone and the movers still hauling away. Suddenly disappointed and irritated, Castielle sighed and decided to walk. Not slowly, but at a pace that would get her to school on time. This was change. She wasn't used to change.

Walking up the staircase, there were still people walking around and loitering with their friends along the lockers. There were the slackers and there were the "nerds" that preferred the company of a classroom than stand outside in the hallways. Castielle was the latter and although she was the valedictorian, people didn't really know who she was. People knew her as the "smart, quiet girl who works all the time."

Castielle had friends, not many but she had friends. People knew her but she just didn't talk, like at all. Instead, her ways of communication was a small white board and a marker that she took everywhere in a small satchel (which would explain as to why people knew her.) She talked a lot more when she was younger and she was a lot more open, but ever since the accident...

"Hey, A!" Castielle twirled around to see her group of friends walking towards her. She lifted her hand and slightly waved as a greeting. There was Meg, Gadreel, Balthazar (fraternal twin brothers) and Ruby; all seniors and the closest people Castielle has known since the first week of high school when they were stuck in the back corner of Mrs. Mill's boring World History class. They all gathered around and focused on her, speculating at her use of the white board and heckling playfully with "you're weird" and "you seem like a good person, let's hang out."

"Did you hear about the new guys" Meg asked? That got the attention from the gang, Castielle most of all. She tilted her head in acknowledgement and nodded slowly, pulling out her whiteboard to write it down.

They moved into the old Walker house across the street from me. Of course, this was news to her friends and she was waiting for all the questions. Gadreel and Balthazar looked at each other before looking at Castielle and prompting the question, "Do they have a sister?" Castielle looked at the boys and smirked before shaking her head. The both sighed and changed their focus to the twin sisters walking past. Meg and Ruby honed in and crowded Castielle.

"Are they hot?" Meg was very superficial.

"Are they young and available?" Ruby was not shy in her extra-curricular activities and she let it be known. "Wait, wait, wait... Are they married?" Castielle couldn't stand the bombardment of questions and it caused her to shy away a little bit. Both girls sighed and apologized; they knew that too much talking and attention caused her anxiety to work up. Castielle looked at Meg and nodded her head in response to her question and to Ruby she shrugged her shoulders.

It wasn't any of her business to be quite honest.

The bell rang and people started scattering and scrambling to their classes, including the other 4. Scattering, everyone went their separate ways and headed to class. First period was Castielle's AP Calculus class and she sat in the first row, closest to the door just in case. Apparently the school found it necessary that she had access to a means of escape.

"Missy Angel, can you please come here?" Setting down her stuff, Castielle walked up to her teacher's desk. Mr. Cain was a nice man and very accommodating to her special needs. He knew how hardworking Castielle was and how smart she really was, so he gave her leeway to do whatever else she needed to do if class was not something new to her. Castielle looked down at him where he was sitting and writing down some notes on some papers. He picked a pile of things up and looked up, his glasses sliding off his bridge and he smiled. Castielle liked this man; she knew how genuinely kind he was and his love of teaching.

Handing the papers and folders over, he cleared his throat and fixed his glasses. "I need you to do me a favor and run an errand for me. This needs to go to the front office and in the hands of the Principal ASAP. It's for our next faculty meeting and it was due yesterday." Castielle took it and nodded before walking towards the door. He called after, "You can keep your stuff here." She was out the door and headed straight for the front office only resulting in running into a wall.

ɗ ∞ ϲ

In the morning, both Dean and Sam drove over to the school, not before getting lost first and leaving a little late.

"It's my first day and I'm already late!" Sam was irritated. He lacked sleep and was still irritated from the argument with his brother just a couple of hours prior. Dean sighed and turned towards his brother, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Calm down, Gigantor. We just got here today. Why don't you just take today off to get settled down first? I only wanted to go today so we could register you into the school and for you to get your classes settled." Sam scowled and huffed.

"I don't want to rest. I want to attend my classes. Today¸ Dean… I want to go when I get my schedule." Dean chuckled, shaking his head.

"There's just no winning with you." It took them a couple of minutes, but they finally parked their car on the school's parking lot, finding little detours here and there along the way, but that's besides the point. Dean was the king of directions and he knew where to go after one look. The two climbed out of the car and walked into an empty hallway, sighting a couple of running stragglers.

The two boys navigated through and found an equally quiet office with a pretty little red-headed receptionist manning the front desk. Dean flashed his best smile for show and coughed for her attention. She jumped in her seat, surprised and turned her full attention to Dean, eyeing him up and down twice over before greeting them. Her eyes sparked with interest and lust.

Dean knew he was attractive with his blonde brown locks, his moss green eyes and his taut muscular structure. He had a chiseled jaw and nearly perfect profile and what people called the "golden ratio" as well as a golden complexion. Hell, he embraced it and took advantage of it every second he could get, but he couldn't. He told himself that today was about his brother and not at all about him. Sam noticed too and coughed at her, bringing her out of her trance.

"We're new here. Moved in just today actually, and I wanted to register into the school system? Maybe get my schedule today, too? My old school should've sent in my transfer files." Sam nudged Dean in the rib with his elbow telling him to focus. Dean coughed and scowled at his brother for cock blocking on his first day there. He forgot that the blonde actually had a name, and looking over her desk there was a name plate attached over her heart and read Anna.

"Yeah… ahem… Um… Anna, right?" She gleamed at him for his recognition. "Can you check to see if he's registered into the school?" She nodded a little too frantically before focusing on the computer and typing away.

"Are you the father?" Her tone was a bit invasive, disappointed, and if Dean noticed, he didn't say. He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, I'm his brother." She sighed in relief very noticeably. "Winchester. Dean Winchester? And my brother here…" Dean grabbed his brother and wrapped his arm around and draped it over his shoulder, "is Sammy Jared Winchester." Sam scowled and scrambled out of his brother's grasp only to trip and twirl around, pushing someone over.

"Oh my God. I am so sorry!" Sam fell on his knees to help the poor person up. "Look, Dean! This is why you don't do things like that to your 18 year old brother!" The person in front of him was on the floor picking up all the papers and folders that fell across the floor. Sam hurriedly went and helped the figure in distress.

Dean turned around from all the noise and saw the mound of hair and visibly pulled back. "I'm so, so, so, so sorry. Let me help you." Sam was scavenging for every piece of paper dropped before brushing his hand across the person's hand. Yelping, the figure drew back their hand and nursed it close to their chest.

Both brothers looked at each other in shock before focusing back on the person. "I don't know how many times I'm going to apologize today. I am so sorry. Honestly." Sam drew his eyebrows together in guilt and looked at his brother who looked as confused as he felt.

"Hey, wait. You're our neighbor aren't you?" Dean took a step closer. "Yeah, you were the one from this morning. I saw you staring at us." The boy looked so vulnerable with their legs folded underneath his slender body and his big, blue puppy eyes were watering while looking up and nodding. Dean's heart fluttered and his cheeks began to feel warm and flushed. The boy looked like a puppy or a little kitten that was just hit. There was that, and there was the fact that this boy was just very good looking. Hot even. Sure, he was a bit on the feminine side, but that wasn't an issue. Dean preferred chicks, but there were times where he pitched his home team. It was less messy that way.

Dean sighed while Sam finished piling the papers and folders into a neat stack before slowly handing them back to the hot, mysterious and very vulnerable cat-dog boy thing. Anna walked from behind her desk and gasped. She must've been too engrossed in her file searching to have not noticed what was going on.

"Wolf?" Running over she asked, "Baby, are you okay!?" Baby, huh? Some student/teacher action, Dean could deal with, especially with him in the middle. He looked off in a daze, clouded with lust and still paying attention. This Wolf figure looked at Anna on the verge of tears and nodded. Wolf, huh that was a bit unconventional, but then again Dean was all for unconventional. He could dig that. But the man called this person Angel earlier… huh.

Focusing back to the situation, Anna was kneeling by Wolf and holding his hands. Anna was hissing and gingerly managing Wolf's hands. "You need to get this looked at, sweetheart. Did you burn yourself again?" Wolf shook his head slowly. "Did you cut yourself at the diner?" Again, he shook his head and looked away at the floor. Anna stiffened and got up. "Oh…" Anna inhaled hard and slow. "Oh, baby…"

Turning around, she addressed both Sam and Dean. "I will be right back. I'm taking Wolf to the infirmary to get those wounds checked out." Dean and Sam just nodded their heads, not knowing what the hell was going on. In that brief moment, Anna and Wolf were already walking out the doors. Once out, the air just seemed to lighten up a bit, but there was still tension.

"Did any of that scream, 'weird' to you?" Dean folded his arms across his chest and stared down at his brother who was staring at the wall, nodding. Dean scoffed "unbelievable" at the same time that Sam drawled a "strange…"