DISCLAIMER: Supernatural and all it entails most certainly do NOT belong to me. Carry on.

Stonewall High was a prison.

"Gabriel, I highly doubt that this is a prison. Prisons do not have mascots or higher learning or-"

Somebody really needs to tell this guy to lighten up.

"Good job, Nancy Drew, how could I not see that? What with the gourmet cafeteria food and scheduled exercise regime..."

"My name is not Nancy."

"Well, I would love to waste all my time with you two but as it so happens, THERE IS AN APOCALYPSE GOING ON!"

Gabriel and Cas turned to look at the third member of their party.

"I am the King of the Crossroads, and I'm wasting enough time as it is helping Winchester and his moose, so this had better be important."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Doctor Who. That's why we're here. This is Stonewall High, current torture chamber of the Winchester brothers. Well...sort of."

Cas just squinted.

"Sort of. As in, not really."

"Technically it's 1997."

Pause.

"And this is productive, how exactly?"

Gabriel glared at Crowley and returned his attention to the foreboding monstrosity in front of him.

"I'm going to show them nuggets of their future. Just enough to convince them to take on their roles."

"That is EXTREMELY DANGE-"

"What in the BLOODY HELL would y-"

SNAP!

"Oops, too late."

The trio looked around at the halls of Stonewall. Cold, gray lockers set into cold, gray concrete and the only light coming from industrial bulbs hanging along the ceiling. There were no windows. All of the doors were thick slabs of steel, and the staircases
were precariously steep.

"Perhaps you were correct, Gabriel."

"Hey! Losechester!"

Three unamused/unimpressed gazes fell upon the large boy who had called out. As the school day was over, it wasn't unusual for a few adults to be wandering the halls, but only a handful of stragglers remained otherwise. Turning to look at the target of
the boy's shout, though, quickly confirmed who was straggling.

Sam Winchester was just slinging his backpack over one shoulder when he heard the call. An annoyed but determined look crossed his face as he purposefully turned away and began walking in the opposite direction.

"Losechester! Hey, I'm talking to you! You turn around when I'm talking to you, you freak!"

Sam continued walking.

"What, running to your freak brother to protect you? Gotta hide behind mommy? Oh, that's right...Dean's your mommy 'cause you don't have one!"

Sam stopped. Took a breath. Turned.

The seemingly invisible trio took a break from their shared puzzlement to adopt expressions of mild surprise at the look in Sam's eyes.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The kid's eyes were blank and dull, dark circles accentuating the sunken sockets, hollowed cheeks, and sharp angles of his face. He looked like death.

"I know Brian. I know it's my fault. I know that I'm the reason we don't have a mother. You've taught me that, and I won't forget it. But I still have a father, one that won't accept conversation as an excuse for being late. So unless you want to miss
out on a punching bag tomorrow I suggest you let it go. Why don't you take an early swing?"

It was delivered in a monotone, a dead voice, with no pleading, indignation, or sense of self preservation.

Brian took his swing.

And another for good measure.

"Thanks."

And Sam Winchester was out the door.

Brian was long gone.

The trio stared.

"I...I think there's been a slight change of plans."

"Was that really...Sam?

"That was the smallest, most docile moose I have ever seen."

Gabriel turned to the other two, a dangerous spark I his eyes.

"Gather round, boys. We've got work to do."

The next day started perfectly normal for the Winchesters. Sam and Dean were dropped off by John and spent the first half of the day struggling.

Sam went about his life in a numb trance, letting in sideswipes and bookchecks without a second glance. He couldn't use his skills on people, and everything they said about him was true, so why bother?

Dean had to force himself not to beat up everybody that insulted Sammy. Or him, but mostly Sammy. He may be a hardheaded 18-year-old but he knows that just because you can do something doesn't mean that you should.

It was just after lunch when everything went haywire.

As usual, Sam and Dean ate in their own little corner of the caf, away from prying eyes and vicious mouths.

Before anybody could get up to leave, the PA system crackled to life.

Would students and staff please move to the auditorium for an assembly. Attendance is mandatory unless you wish to die a fiery, painful death in oh...about 13 years. And please-

-Gabriel you cannot threaten these humans, they don't know-

-do NOT be late!

-Yes, I would rather not collect too many souls all at once. Bad for the complexion.

Everyone was frozen.

The first voice was animated, and hopefully joking about their impending doom. The students didn't recognize it, nor did they recognize the gruff second voice or accented third voice. But, seeing as they very much wished to remain living, they all began
to file towards the auditorium.

All, that is, except for the Winchesters.

"What the hell?"

"You thinkin' demon?"

"Well Alfred over there was for sure. Batman...I don't think so. Now I gotta call the first guy Robin...uhh...hard to tell. Maybe somewhere in between?"

"In between? Dean, they can pass for human. And what the hell is in between a demon and a...whatever Batman is?"

"I don't know, okay? We better call dad and get our asses into that auditorium. Right now we're the only thing protecting those people from a 'fiery, painful death'. Even though some of them deserve it."

Silence.

"Sammy? You with me on this?"

"Yeah Dean, I'm with you."

When they got to the auditorium, everyone was already seated, looking around and whispering in confusion.

"Where're Batman and Robin? And Evil Alfred?"

"How am I supposed to know? Wait, look-on stage."

All of the lights had gone out, except for a large spotlight directed to the center of the stage where an enormous movie screen had descended.

The crowd hushed themselves, leaning forward in anticipation of the mystery guest. There was silence-

GOOOOOOOD MORNIIIIIING VIETNAAAM!

Everyone jumped out of their seats and looked around wildly for the source of the voice, Sam and Dean included.

There was a sound like wings flapping, only magnified tenfold, and suddenly onstage were the Batclan-err, Supernatural Squad.

The excitable one-Robin-had his arms spread wide in greeting, a mischievous smile still on his face. He was the one who shouted. (Dean had to admit, pegging him as Robin was a good call considering the dual reference. He thought maybe he'd pat himself
on the back later, if he didn't go down in a catastrophic inferno).

There was a man next to him wearing a trench coat, with a serious countenance that contrasted with his puzzled expression, and-

"We are not in Vietnam."

-the voice. Batman for sure. Which leaves Mr. Doom N' Gloom to be Alfred.

"Well!" Robin ignored the comment. "It seems as though everyone got here on time. No soul reaping for you! Except, of course, the Winchesters. Hiya, fellas!"

Another spotlight suddenly shined into existence, this one focusing on Sam and Dean, who had been standing in the back near the door. The students and staff, afraid to not take the strange visitors seriously, glared at the brothers for ruining the perfect
attendance record. Shame.

"Now, now, no burning holes into the chuckleheads...I need them. You need them. We ALL need them!"

Snorts and whispers broke out in the crowd, peers and teachers alike. Somebody muttered "yeah, right!" just loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Were these guys friendlies or not?

Excitable-guy sighed.

"I can tell you need some persuasion. Well, lucky for you all that's what I'm here for! And these two, I suppose. But where are my manners! Oh, right, I don't have any. Anywho, let me round up the last few guests and then we can begin introductions. Works
a lot easier that way, hmm?"

Before anyone could react, much less process all of what was just said, another fluttering sound was heard and four more people appeared on stage.

The first was tall and rugged looking, with a style similar to Sam and Dean's. He had blood spattered across his jeans and a wicked looking knife in his hand. His fierce snarl melted when he caught a glimpse of the other new arrivals, then turned to confusion
and apprehension when he noticed the audience. Finally, he locked eyes with the two boys still under a spotlight and his expression hardened.

"Sam. Dean. What the hell-"

"Count yourselves lucky, folks! This right here is the one and only, cursed, legendary, stubborn-as-hell-and-out-of-it-too, John Winchester! Very own father to our guests of honor back there. Say heeeeeeeere's Johnny!"

John looked murderous. The audience, initially afraid of the wild looking man, looked back and forth between father and sons in disbelief.

"Alrighty! Next up, this old coot is-"

"Watch who you're callin' old, ya idjit. You've got the making of a trickster and I'm not about to get pulled into this kinda nonsense."

"-Bobby Singer, and he'd better enjoy the use of his legs while he's got them. Next up!"

The older man's face turned the same red as his old trucker's cap.

"These lovely ladies are Ellen and Joanna-"

"Jo."

"Joanna Beth!"

"-Harvelle. Y'all know each other, I'm assuming. Just kidding, I know."

Ellen and Jo really had nothing else to say about that, but somebody else did.

"What? I mean, Bobby we know, but who are they?"

The question was directed at John, and was, in all honesty, perfectly reasonable in their line of work. The audience, however, took offense.

"Winchester! Watch that mouth, no wonder you can't do anything right in class!"

Now, Ellen may not have met Dean (or Sam) yet, but she's a fierce mama dragon when she wants to be.

"Excuse me, I believe he was asking his father a question. One that's perfectly reasonable in my eyes, considering our line of work. And no, you don't get to ask."

Well, Dean decided that settled that. John also shot him a look that said they would talk later, but mostly Dean decided.

"Ahem. Now that this little cat fight has been taken care of. Final introductions! Saved the best for last."

He gestured to the spotlight.

"Little scrawny one is Sam. Hard to believe he was ever that short. Uh, you'll see. Top Gun over there is Dean. Literally the most important people on the face of this planet. Moving on."

He spoke over the silence that really was too shocked to be broken and gestured to his left.

"Castiel. Call him Cas. All you need to know for now."

And to his right.

"Crowley. Call him Crowley. Again, you'll see. Although, he really can do that soul bit so best behaviors, yeah?"

Finally he swept his hand together and apart like giant wings and bowed. At the bottom the tilted his head up and smirked to the crowd.

"Gabriel, at your service."

He straightened.

"Well, really my service. Details, details...I'll give a quick explanation, then we'll jump right in. Like swimming. Eh, you're all standing. Here, sit up front, it'll be easier."

The Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Cas, and Crowley all took seats in the front two rows. Sam and Dean sat next to each other in the center, with John and Bobby next to Dean and Ellen and Jo next to Sam. Cas, Crowley, and Gabriel would be sitting behind
the Winchesters.

"Alrighty then, now-"

"Wait just a minute!"

A teacher had stood up.

"Who are you, really? Why does any of this matter? The Winchesters are a nuisance! Why, I heard one of them killed the mother! And we can't be wasting all day on this! There are-"

"You would do well to sit down and shut up. If you must know, time will be frozen for as long as this takes. You will learn necessary information as you watch, just as Sam and Dean will. Er, present and future I suppose."

Thoroughly cowed, the teacher shrank back into her seat.

"Anyone else? No? About time. These are snippets of the future, and a few of the past for explanatory purposes. Most will run like episodes of a tv show, but some will be shorter depending on relevancy of information. The first one is an overall explanation
of the Winchesters as they are, why they live the way they do, and what will be set in motion when Sam is 22 and Dean is 26. And yes, you will live that long. Congrats."

While the hunters (Winchesters, Bobby, and Harvelles) looked relieved at that knowledge, everybody else was startled. They didn't care about those freaks, but...live that long? That's barely an adult! Not even out of college! And they look...relieved?

Gabriel took his seat as the spotlights turned off and the screen crackled to life.

The audience exchanges nervous glances. How dangerous are these people's lives?

And then...

Lawrence, Kansas
22 years ago

"WHAT?"