Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or anything to do with Supernatural.

Beep, beep, beep

The alarm clock relentlessly blared the noise, filling the small room with a forced liveliness.

Dean groaned as he buried his face into his pillow in an attempt to drown out the noise. The alarm signified the need to get up and go to school, and that seemed like the last thing that Dean wanted at the moment. His bed always seemed so warm and inviting in the morning, like it was made of the softest clouds that heaven could fathom. He inhaled the soothing scent of his pillow, trying his hardest to ignore the screaming alarm clock.

The noise seemed to build up to a point where it was louder than gunshots, and at that point Dean decided that he could no longer ignore it. Dean moaned as he rolled over and slapped a lazy hand on top of the clock to silence it.

The room fell strangely silent, but it was not a peaceful silence. It was as if the alarm clock had disturbed the peaceful rest that Dean had previously acquired, and now made it impossible for said peace to return.

"Stupid clock." Dean muttered as he rolled his lower half out of bed, his legs hanging off the bedside. He made an attempt to rub the sleep out of his eyes and then blinked a few times as if trying to dispel any desires for sleep that may still be lingering.

With a rather loud moan, he heaved himself onto his feet and out of his bed entirely. His gaze darted about the room for a moment, taking in all of the clothes that were scattered about the floor and all of the sport's trophies that littered the shelves. With a small, tired frown, he walked over to his dresser and picked up a shirt that was lying on top of it. He held it up to his face and gave it a sniff. It didn't smell too bad. It kind of smelled faintly of coffee, but he figured it could be worse. It could smell like sweat or chemicals. He shrugged, figuring he was not going to get much better. He grabbed the shirt along with a pair of jeans that he found on the floor and headed for the bathroom for his morning shower.

The shower felt nice. It was lukewarm water that helped to wake him up, and he felt refreshed, his earlier battle with his bed and alarm clock now forgotten.

He quickly towel dried his hair as he slid his shirt on. It was a tight gray t-shirt. He put down his towel to give himself a brief look in the mirror. He looked acceptable. It would have to do.

He made his way out of his room and headed down the stairs towards the kitchen.

His father was seated at the dining room table with a newspaper in hand. He did not even seem to notice Dean's entrance.

Dean was only acknowledged by his mother, who spun around from the kitchen with a wide smile on her face. "Good morning, Dean. I made pancakes." She spoke sweetly, which seemed to be something she always did, except for when she was mad. She was a kind woman, which seemed to contrast his father's cold nature.

"Thanks, Mom." Dean thanked the friendly blonde woman as he reached over to the counter to grab a plate and some pancakes before sitting himself down at the table across from his father, who still did not look up from his paper and only muttered "Dean" with a slight jerk of his head as a greeting.

"Hey, Dad." Dean greeted back as he pulled out his fork and began ravenously eating the food in front of him. "Where's Sam?" He asked as he scanned the room lazily for any signs of his younger brother, but it would appear that Sam had not yet come down the stairs.

"Taking his sweet time." Dean's father grumbled without moving his gaze from the paper. His gaze seemed to be locked in one spot as if he were not even reading the paper, but just looking at it so that he could ignore his family and have an excuse for it.

"John…" Dean's mother's voice was still soft as she spoke, but it now had firmer tinge to it. "Sam's only thirteen. Try to cut him some slack. He probably needed a bit more time to sleep." His mother reasoned as she flipped over the pancake she was currently cooking.

"Doesn't mean he should make the rest of us late." John groused back as he buried himself further in the newspaper.

"Give him some time. He'll make it." Dean's mother responded gently.

John said nothing in response other than an irritated huff, but he opened his mouth as if he were going to only to be interrupted as Sam came running down the stairs with his hair disheveled and circles below his eyes.

"Sorry. I slept in. I was up late last night writing an English essay and-" Sam began to frantically explain, but he was interrupted by John, who did not seem to care for his excuse.

"Just hurry up and eat so we can get a move on already, and don't let it happen again." John demanded strictly as he finally lifted his gaze from the newspaper to glare at Sam.

Sam immediately silenced himself as he took his seat like a puppy who had just been yelled at for chewing on brand new shoes.

Dean grabbed a plate for Sam and handed it over to his little brother along with a quick sympathetic glance. He felt bad for Sam. John worked weird hours, and it oftentimes left him in a bad mood, which was quite often taken out on either him or Sam, so he could understand how Sam must have been feeling at that point.

Sam gave Dean a quick smile meant to assure him that he was fine as he took the plate from Dean's hands.

"Hurry up." John grunted as he stood to leave. "I'll be waiting in the car." John took his paper and folded it perfunctionaly before shoving it into the briefcase that had been resting at his side. He then went into the kitchen and kissed his wife on the cheek in a ritualistic manner before he went out the door in silence.

Dean wolfed down his pancakes as fast as he could. It was not a good idea to keep John waiting, especially when he was in a bad mood. "Ready, Sammy?" Dean turned to his little brother as he got up to leave.

Sam had a mouthful of pancake, but he still nodded as he got up from the table to grab his backpack and run for the door.

"Sam!" Their mother called after him, and he turned around in response. "Make sure to swallow before you go." She instructed gently.

Sam took a large gulp in response and then smiled to show her that he had done as he was asked.

She smiled warmly as she responded. "Good boy. Now, have a good day, sweetie."

Sam nodded before he ran out the door, calling "Goodbye, Mom!"

Dean soon followed his brother out the door in a similar fashion, saying goodbye to his mother in the process.

"Finally." John snorted. "I thought you two would never show up."

"Sorry, Dad." Dean mumbled, knowing that his father probably did not want to hear excuses again.

"Just get in." John muttered in defeat, and his two sons did exactly that, sitting in the deathly silent car on the whole ride to school.

Another day in hell.

That's really what school was. High Schoolers were all just lost souls trapped to the confinements of the Devil's playground. Teachers were cruel, and the workload was unbearable. Classes were long and torturous, and nearly everyone was two faced. Everybody hated each other, but there were very few that actually would admit that to someone's face. It was an every man for himself kind of world, and that was just the atmosphere of the supposed learning site. The only part of school that was of any good was the lunch break. It was really the only thing that got Dean through the day. Dean disliked most people. He found them to all be posers and narcissistic, but he did have a group of friends that he actually liked, and he found them to be the only tolerable people in the whole school. It was a select group that hardly ever let in new members. They always sat at the same lunch table every day, and everyone knew that. People knew better than to mess with their group, which was known for kicking butt and taking names. Each one of them played a few sports or were otherwise skilled with some sort of combat, so other students often let them be.

"Hellooo. Earth to Dean." A young blonde girl waved her hand in front of Dean's face.

Dean playfully shoved her hand away from his face as he responded. "You know what, Jo? I am allowed to think a little bit, but I suppose you wouldn't know about that." He teased the small blonde girl.

Jo rolled her eyes in response. "Right. You expect me to believe that you actually like to sit down and ponder your place in the universe?" She replied sarcastically before she took on a more sly tone as she leaned in to give Dean a playful shoulder shove. "We all know what you were really thinking about." She said in a low, mischievous voice.

Dean visibly tensed up. He knew perfectly well what she was referring to. Across from their table sat Lisa Braeden, one of the most popular girls in the school. Sure, Dean thought she was hot, but there did not seem to be much more to her than that. She appeared nice and all, but he could see that it was probably just fake, and she like many other girls her age was probably a lot less sunshine and rainbows behind people's backs. Now, there was no way to know that for sure. She could very well just be a nice person, but in Dean's experience that rarely happened. He was just kind of sick of it. He was sick of dating girls because they were all the same. He felt like he repeatedly dated the same girl over and over again, and it just got to be too tiresome. He had a few boyfriends, but there were not too many openly bi or gay boys in his school, which really irritated him. "It's not like that, Jo." Dean muttered in protest.

"Oh come on! She's pretty!" Exclaimed a red-head seated across from Jo.

"I know, Charlie, and that's great and all, but…" Dean began to try explain his train of thought, but he cut himself off as he noticed the curiously concerned gazes that were fixed on him. "I'm just not feeling it, ya know?"

The redhead shook her head at Dean. "Fine, but if you don't want her, then I am calling dibs." She replied with a devious grin.

"Have at it." Dean replied unenthusiastically.

"Something the matter, brother?" Asked a smaller, well-built man, who was seated across from Dean.

"Nah, Benny. I think I just need a break from dating is all." Dean replied with a casual shrug.

"Since when do you need a break? You're nearly always dating someone new every week!" Jo replied incredulously.

"Everybody needs a break eventually." Muttered the last member of their group, a young, dark-haired boy named Kevin.

Dean's eyes widened in agreement as he motioned to Kevin as proof of his point. "See?"

Charlie dismissed them with a wave of her hand. "I'd rather take a break later then. The party's just getting started now." She shot Dean a mischievous look as she spoke, her voice seeping with excitement.

"Go right ahead. Whatever floats your boat, Charles." Dean replied with an over exaggerated eye roll.

"Watch and learn." Charlie replied as she slyly stood up from the table to go over to Lisa's table. There were a few girls that were already checking Charlie out, even as she was walking over.

Dean could not suppress a small grin. "She's already won and she's not even there yet."

Benny did not even bother to turn around. He knew how this went. Charlie and Dean were the biggest flirts out of all of them, and they were rarely ever turned down. Benny remained completely neutral as he casually ate his ham sandwich.

Jo only rolled her eyes. "The two of you just don't know when to quit." She muttered to Dean as she returned to eating her salad.

Dean only grunted his agreement, but it was Kevin who let out a low moan. "This again. It's always Charlie or Dean. I swear. One of them is always flirting with someone at lunch."

That much was true. Benny preferred to keep to himself, even at lunch he remained generally neutral. He was a good listener and a very devoted friend, and he was also very good at football and hockey.

Kevin was probably the dorkiest out of all of them, although Charlie was actually into a lot of geekier shows and books. Kevin was really smart, and he served as the common sense of the group. Despite being really small and geeky, Kavin was quite skilled with hand to hand combat because his mom taught self defense classes.

Jo, on the other hand, preferred being single. Her father was dead, so her mother had raised her alone, so she seemed to have adopted that mentality. Jo was really good at soccer and wrestling. She could take down anyone. She was also fairly skilled with a gun, seeing as she went on frequent hunting trips.

She had actually been the one to teach Charlie, who was now the master of all guns. Charlie did not play sports, but people knew better than to mess with her because of her reputation with a gun, even if she was into dorkier things. Charlie was one of those rare people who can be a little bit of everything and still be cool. She was not afraid to be herself, and that was one of the major reasons why she was Dean's best friend.

Charlie returned to the table with a victory token - the numbers of a few of the girls at the table - and a triumphant grin.

"Come on, Charlie. Tell us all about what went down over there." Dean urged the eager red-head as she returned to her seat.

"So… I went over there, and a few of them weren't interested. You know, straight and all, but the others were just so eager…" Charlie rambled happily, and Dean was happy for her. Every victory Charlie ever made was a victory for him too. She was his best friend, and he loved seeing her that happy.

Classes were so boring, especially History class. If there was one class that Dean hated most, it was History class. He thought it to be Satan's personal creation. What was even the point to learning history? It was just a bunch of onerous dates and fabricated stories. He felt his eyes begin to close as he lay back in his history desk. A content smile spread across his features as he felt a sweet slumber begin to drift onto him.

Beep, beep, beep

The noise filled the room. It sounded like Dean's alarm clock on steroids. Dean's eyes flew open instantly as he looked around in agitation. I was just drifting off! His irritable mood soon faded as he looked around to realize that the other students were all at the door already, evacuating the school.

" , please evacuate the building. This is not a drill." The history teacher blandly instructed him.

Dean looked up at his teacher in shocked confusion. One second ago they had been having boring history lecture, and the next they were all evacuating the building. He sprang to his feet without a word of protest as the stench of smoke hit his nostrils. The school is on fire. Looks like it is hell after all. He followed the crowd out towards the door, and resumed following them through the hallway.

He knew that his mind should be racing, but he was actually relatively calm as he followed the crowd to the exit. Strangely enough, the fire was only a few rooms away from the nearest exit, so the whole surrounding area was filled with smoke.

The air felt intoxicating. It was heavy and dry, and it was so very hard to breathe in, but Dean knew he would just have to deal with it; he was going to be out in about a minute anyway.

That was, until he heard a cry for help. It was a female voice as far as Dean could tell, and it sounded vaguely familiar, but that did not really matter at that moment. What mattered was helping whoever the voice belonged to.

He ran towards the voice, which happened to be in the same direction as the smoke flow, and froze for a second as he saw the source of the screaming. It was none other than Lisa trapped in a snare of flames. She turned to look up at Dean with wide, pleading eyes, and Dean knew he could not leave her there. She needed help, and he would have to take a risk in order to help her. That was just the right thing to do.

Dean took in a deep breath as he ran through the smoky room, trying his hardest to avoid the flames, but still getting licked by hungry flames.

He made his way to Lisa with only minor injuries and bent down to help her. She was coughing from all of the smoke, and she seemed like she could pass out at any second. "I'm going to get you out of here." Dean promised the half-conscious girl, who simply coughed and gave a weak nod in response.

Dean hooked one of her arms around his shoulder and then gave a heave to get her onto her feet. He searched the room for a possible exit. The way that he had entered had been entirely dominated by flames. Actually, nearly the entire room had been submerged in flames, and in that moment, Dean realized he was going to die. This is it. This is how I go? Trapped and helpless? That can't happen. I've at least got to get her out. A look of pure determination emerged on Dean's face as he scanned the room again. There has to be another way out.

There was a window not too far away, but the path there was practically a trail of fire. It's the best shot I've got. He told himself as he hardened his stare on the window. There was no backing down. He was going to have to charge through those flames, or let them eat him and Lisa alive. He had to at least try. Might as well go out with a bang. That thought gave him the strength to hurdle himself through the flame with an arm trying to keep the flames off of Lisa as he made his way to the window.

Dean was covered in burn marks when he arrived at the window, but Lisa was considerably better. She had passed out some time ago, but that was alright; it made her easier to carry. "Come on. Come on. Just open already." Dean wheezed as he tried to force the window open. It would not budge, and he no longer possessed the strength to smash it open. His limbs were beginning to go numb, and he could feel his head swimming. He was going to pass out soon too, and then they would both die inside that building. Not like this… Dean thought as he finally drifted out of consciousness, his head hitting the ground with a thud.

The next thing Dean knew, he was surrounded by this overpowering light. He felt something pick him up. He was only half awake, so distinguishing who or what seemed impossible, but whatever it was had gotten out with ease. Dean began to stir in his savior's arms, and he felt his carrier tense up in response. He was laid down on the ground propped up against a tree a good distance from the school, but close enough that someone would find him pretty soon. Lisa was placed lying down next to him, still clearly unconscious. Dean tried to pry his eyes open in order to see who had saved him, but they felt so heavy. He had no energy left. He focused everything he had into opening his eyes just to see him.

Yes. It was a him. It was a brief glance, but Dean saw him standing over him with a hand outstretched as if he were going to place two fingers on Dean's forehead. He was wearing some kind of overcoat that looked really old and tacky, and his hair was a rumpled mess, but the strangest feature was his eyes. They were glowing a bright blue. There was also some kind of bizarre bright light surrounding the man, but that could logically be attributed to Dean's eyes not having adjusted to the light yet.

The man pulled his hand away when he saw that Dean's eyes were half open. This look of overwhelming shock took over his face came over his face as he backed away. He vanished into thin air without a warning, leaving Dean to sit there wondering what on earth had just happened before passing out again.