Chapter One is a go! Thanks so much to my amazing beta. Let me know what you guys think? Yeah I know this whole thing is freaking overdone... But there's one thing in the subplot that I wanted to do.

Warning: This story will be triggering for some in later chapters. There will be mentions/depictions of physical abuse, mental abuse, bullying, and possibly some other triggering events. Warnings will be at the top of such chapters. Please do not read if it's not in your best interest. Stay safe.

Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, I would write a Slenderman episode. It's on the Tumblr checklist. Obviously I do not own Supernatural.


beep beep beep

Dean Winchester groaned, rolling over and tugging his pillow over his head to block out the noise. He couldn't understand where the beeping was coming from or why something so shrill and obnoxious was invading his sleep. He just wished it would stop so he could get back to dreaming. Dreams were far better than reality, after all.

beep beep beep

Grumbling, the fourteen-year-old flipped back towards the noise, one arm venturing from the warm sanctum that was his blanket. His arm flopped about until it found the offending item: an antique alarm clock that hadn't been seen in abundance since the thirties, at least.

bee-

At last, the noise stopped. Perhaps now he could get back to that dream. Surely, the world could do without him for a few more minutes?

"Dean," came a boy's pre-pubescent voice, "Wake up! We have school today, you know, and if you miss your bus you'll have to walk and then you'll be late."

The older boy groaned as he cracked open an eyelid. He open and closed it slowly until his sight was used to the sudden brightness.

"School? Sammy, what're you talking about, school's not for another week at least."

Sam laughed, "No, it's today, I triple checked. Come on, I made breakfast!"

Breakfast was all Dean needed to hear - he was out of bed in an instant, tugging a pair of jeans from the floor over his boxers. "What'd you make? It'd better not be more of your rabbit food crap," he bit, glaring at the younger boy who was now perched on the edge of Dean's recently occupied and very inviting bed.

"Our special today is Gourmet Cheerios in a 2% milk sauce with coffee to drink, sir," Sam grinned back, rolling his eyes. "What did you expect, an omelet?"

"Hilarious; you should be a comedian. Did you eat, then?"

"Yeah, and you better hurry and eat too – your bus comes in twenty minutes. You're lucky I was nice and made us both lunch."

Dean's heart clenched as he smiled and thanked his brother. The boy was too sweet for his own good, and Dean just couldn't be the one to break it to him that he normally skipped lunch to make the food last just a little longer. It was a miracle that Sam hadn't found out yet, anyways, so he would go with the charade just this once. He'd have to start setting his alarm earlier, if Sammy was going to wake up hours before the middle school's busses even came.

All this flew through Dean's mind as he shuffled from their room to the kitchen at the other end of the hallway. His brother was still jabbering away about how "super excited" he was to finally start sixth grade and "have lockers." The glee in his tone was starting to affect the volume of his words, however, and Dean found himself getting more and more on edge. The noise rose and rose until finally, Dean couldn't take it anymore.

"Sam, shut up," he snapped.

The younger boy choked off mid-sentence. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Dean sighed, "Don't apologize, Sammy, you shouldn't have to. I just didn't want you waking Dad; you know how he is in the morning."

"It's okay." The younger boy's eyes flickered to the stove's digital clock, "You should go; the bus will be at the corner in a few minutes."

"You'll be okay here with Dad? 'Cause I can skip homeroom if you want me to stay and make sure things go okay."

"I'll be fine, Dean; go. I'll call you if anything happens and I'll see you after school. Just try not to get in trouble on your first day because I won't have anywhere to go during your detention."

"Yeah I know kid, say hi to Jo for me. Remember, if you have trouble finding your classes or something, she'll help you. See you later; I'd better leave."

With that, Dean strode out the door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he passed its perch.

The school day started out slow and monotonous for Dean. He knew no one in Lawrence High, his only friends being a year or two younger, or having moved away. Classes ticked by with teacher after droning teacher, each one explaining the course's syllabus in great detail. Students chattered quietly through each lecture, providing a soft, lazy hum that had him nearly falling asleep a few times. By the time his first three classes were over and lunch rolled around, Dean was completely done with school. Still, remembering his promise, he grabbed the brown paper bag Sammy had made up for him from his locker, heading to the Commons. Each table hosted at least one group by the time he arrived, so he slumped into a chair across from a seemingly companionless girl wearing a Star Trek shirt. She gave him a curious look before redirecting her attention back into her novel.

Dean's interest in his silent companion spiked when he saw the familiar cover. "Dude, is that The Hobbit?"

The girl regarded him warily once more from behind the pages. Her eyes seemed to stare right into his soul, evaluating him for everything he was worth before she finally set the book down. "Yeah, it's kind of my favorite book. I take it you like Tolkien?"

"Who doesn't love Tolkien?" Dean retorted, cracking a grin.

The girl nodded in approval, sticking out a hand to shake. "Charlie Bradbury; freshman, computer whiz, and fangirl extraordinaire. You are?"

"Dean Winchester; also a freshman. We didn't go to the same middle school, did we? I thought I knew just about everyone in my grade."

"Nah, my family just moved here from Michigan, don't worry. I take it most of the kids here went to the same junior high?"

"Yeah, we did. Most of them are miserable dickheads so it's not like you missed out on much. What was Michigan like? Do you miss it?"

"I moved from one sleepy Midwestern to another and there's not much difference. The kids at my old school were idiots, too. I had only a few loose friends who were more intimidated by me than anything, so no, I don't miss it. You've never moved?"

"No. We moved across town once, but it's not like I switched schools or anything so not much changed."

They lapsed into silence once again. Dean was tempted to ask more questions, but he had just met this girl and didn't want to seem pesky. As it turns out, he never got the chance, for just as he opened his mouth, Charlie's face brightened and she waved to someone behind him. A short, pimply boy with light brown hair and the brightest blue eyes Dean had ever seen slid into another chair at their table like the missing piece of their triangle.

"Hey, Charlie," the boy grinned. The smile fell as he noticed Dean. His accent hinted at something Southern that the other boy couldn't quite place. "Who's this?"

Dean cleared his throat, "I'm Dean, what's your name?"

"Benny Lafitte. Tell me, Dean – 'cause you don't seem the type to hang around people like us – why are you here?"

"Benny-" Charlie started.

Dean cut her off. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's just that you give off this jock vibe, like you should be playing football or baseball, you know?"

"I don't do sports," the other boy grimaced. "I used to go to the shooting range with my dad sometimes, but actual competitive sports aren't worth it to me. If you must know, I'm here because my best friend is an eighth-grader and I don't have any friends my age. I'm here because my little brother woke up before me and packed me a lunch and now I actually have to eat instead of studying in the library. Lastly, I'm here because all the other tables were occupied and Charlie looked the least likely to treat me like scum, plus she's wearing a cool shirt."

A myriad of emotions flickered across Benny's face like Claymation, ranging from embarrassment to surprise and settling on a satisfied smile. "Sorry to push your buttons like that, brother. I just wanted to be sure you weren't messing with us. Welcome to the Island of Misfit Toys."

Charlie pursed her lips, but the quiver at the edges suggested that she was holding back laughter. "That wasn't very nice, Benny. Before you showed up – ten minutes late, I might add – Dean and I were talking about Tolkien and his genius. I'd already figured out that he was cool; do you really think I would let some douche in to fuck with us?"

"Nah, of course not, Char. I wanted to see what pretty boy here is made of, that's all. Not everyone has Sherlock-esque deduction skills like you do. I bet you already figured out his life story."

"Wait, you could do that?" Dean asked, tensing. His life wasn't that bad, but he didn't want the first person he spoke to at this school to know everything about him. He couldn't possibly be that transparent.

"Not really," the girl laughed. "I mean, from what you've told me I've figured out that you like good literature, you're a Trekkie, and you don't normally eat lunch. From your appearance I can figure that you probably woke up late – your shirt is on backwards – and didn't go to sleep until late last night, probably due to stress, judging by the bags under your eyes. That stress could be caused by anything, but my guess is family drama. I've gathered by the way you talk that you're very protective of your brother and defensive when it comes to anything about the two of you, but really, you're pretty down-to-earth and nice. That's all I've got, but tell me, is any of it wrong?"

"Not a thing. I don't know if it's quite to par with Mr. Holmes, but you're pretty good at paying attention to the little things."

"Why thank you," she grinned, sighing out the words dramatically. "I take great pride in my skittles. Tell me, Sir Winchester, have you got any weird talents up your sleeve?"

"Unless you count building and fixing cars or making a mean burger, I can't say I do. How about you, Benny?"

"I know a few martial arts forms, but that's about it," the brunet replied. Dean noticed he was biting his lip, obviously more proud of his skills than he let on. He made a mental note to never mess with the guy; there was not a doubt in his mind that Benny could break his arm in an instant.

"So Dean," Charlie said, breaking through his thoughts like a rock to glass. "You said you have a little brother? How old is he?"

Dean's mouth split into a huge grin. He knew he always lit up like a Christmas tree whenever he got to brag about Sammy, but he couldn't help it. The kid was smart, he had a right to be proud.

"He's a few months over ten years old, but he managed to skip fifth grade so he's already at the middle school. Sam's a genius, I swear. The kid's dead-set on becoming some hot-shot lawyer."

"My little sister's like that," Benny smiled. "She's in fourth grade but she's so smart she was correcting me on my homework last year. It was the funniest thing I ever did see but I ended up getting the credit so I suppose I owe her for that."

"I thought they were having Liz skip a grade, too," Charlie said, her words lilting at the end to transform it into a question.

"Naw, she didn't get a good enough grade on the English portion of the test so she has to go through another year of too-easy math and science."

"This school system is screwy, man," Dean sympathized. "At least when she's in sixth grade they can bump her up to harder classes."

"I suppose."

The conversation lulled as they resumed eating. After a few minutes, however, Dean became fidgety.

"So I know that Charlie just moved here," he said, "but what about you, Benny? Have you lived here your whole life?"

"Mostly," the boy admitted through a bite of his sandwich. "I moved here when I was eight."

Dean nodded, "Where you from?"

"Louisiana. It was a hell of a lot more eventful than this place, I tell you, even just as another suburbia. Lawrence is the kind of place that you've got to come to love."

"I suppose that's true. Not much happens around here, does it?"

Charlie laughed, "Not at all! Freaking suburbs, nothing interesting ever happens. How are we supposed to find our adventure if the biggest thing that happens around here is an occasional car accident? The city is where all the fun is."

"Well we have cities," Dean defended. "Lawrence is only the sixth largest in Kansas."

"No, I'm talking big cities, like LA or Chicago or New York! That's the place to be."

"Well look at it this way, then. Lucy found Narnia while visiting her Uncle in the country; Harry grew up in the mother of all suburbia living a relatively normal life; Bilbo never wanted adventure or anything of the sort, and it came to him when he was middle aged. All the greats had normal beginnings, so who's to say yours needs to be exciting from the start? What you need is a catalyst, not some big city."

"That was inspirational, brother, really," Benny said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

"It was," Charlie admitted, "but the point is that there's all these magical things happening in the world, all these great things, and I miss out just by being out of the way."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. You have to stay positive and hope, Charlie. You never know what might happen."

"I guess." Suddenly, her face perked up and she clapped her hands together. "Anyways, boys, it's been a pleasure but now lunch seems to be over. I'm off to study hall in room 201; I suppose I'll see you all tomorrow."

"I have the same study hall!" Dean exclaimed, grinning.

"Well, I'll see you around kids, have fun in whatever your next classes are," Benny said, scooping up his belongings before sauntering away.

"Come on then, Dean. I want to get the good seats just in case we end up sitting there permanently."

"Right, coming. Just… Can I go fix my shirt real quick? It'll only take a moment."

Charlie laughed, "Yeah sure, but hurry up, I don't want to be late for study hall of all things."

As Dean and Charlie walked to class, the former figured it wouldn't hurt to get a little more info on his new companions.

"So what's up with Benny?" he asked. "I mean, you said you just moved here, and he looks older than us – how do you know him?"

"Yeah," she responded, "Benny's a sophomore. I met him about a week ago when I went to get a library card. We talked for a while about books and who made a cuter couple with Hermione, Harry, or Ron. Eventually I asked where he lived and we found out that we were neighbors. Been hanging out since. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious; you two seemed pretty close and all."

"Yeah, we're pretty close" was her only response as they entered the room. Charlie headed straight to a seat a few rows back, right by the windows, leaving Dean to follow in her wake, wondering just how close his new friends were. The rest of the class trickled in soon after, cutting it as close to the bell as they could, he supposed. Their teacher stood from her desk as the bell chimed, and Dean was relieved to find that she didn't seem to have any syllabuses.

"I'm Ms. Brown, this is study hall, and for the most part, none of you would listen if I did have any rules so all I'm going to ask is for a reasonable volume and that you have respect for myself and this room. That's it, guys. Have a blast."

With that, she went back to her desk, shuffling a pile of papers and beginning to grade. Dean blinked. It wasn't what he'd been expecting, but he certainly was not complaining. He turned to Charlie, finding that she wore a matching grin.

"I like her," Charlie exclaimed, putting the emphasis on 'her'.

"Me too. I swear, she's the first teacher I've had that hasn't lectured through the entire period."

"Same. I don't have any homework, do you?"

Dean shook his head, "Let's just talk, I mean, I barely know you."

"Very true, sir. Alright, let's just talk then. You first."

"Harry and Hermione are better as friends, by the way," he whispered.

Charlie glowed, "That's what I said! Benny's convinced they dated in secret or something while Ron was with Lavender but, I mean, Romione for the win."

"It's a valid theory, but I don't think so. Harry liked Ginny at that point. I mean, who could blame him, she was a complete boss."

"She is! The movies really didn't do her justice… Hey, can I see your schedule? I think I might have seen you in some of my classes earlier."

"It would be awesome if we had most of our classes together," he said passing it over. Charlie unfolded it, pulling her own from her backpack to compare.

"Dude, we have like four out of seven classes together and I'm pretty sure you're with Benny for one of the remaining three."

"Let me see, let me see!" Dean exclaimed, leaning over her shoulder in an attempt to get a look.

She pushed the papers over so that they were now resting between the both of them. "Look, we have Math with Carter next, and then you and Benny have Gym with Henriksen while I have French. We'll both have Biology with Meyers, seventh period. This morning you were in my World Geography and English classes! It's all our core classes and then one more."

"So while I was bored out of my skull this morning, you were in the same room? Twice? That kind of sucks…"

"Hey, I was bored too. We'll sit together tomorrow, okay? This is like miracle stuff, dude. No one ever has classes with their friends!"

"No kidding," he grinned back. Sure, the day had started out rough, but it was starting to look up and that's all that mattered to him. Maybe he could get through this school year, after all.