Just to clarify: this is NOT a child abuse story.

Watching as the casket was lowered into the ground, Dean wiped his tears away with his sleeve, his eyes red from crying excessively. Usually he would be ashamed at such a show of emotion, but today was different. Today was the funeral of his father. The man he looked up to, the man he admired most. Gone. Murdered. With his brother by his side, he stood next to the grave and mourned his father. A hand is placed on his shoulder and he looks up to see that everyone else has left. The hand is not a stranger, yet it is unfamiliar and gave no comfort. Dean looked up to see Crowley, the vice president of his father's company.

"It's time to go now Dean. We have things to sort out."

Dean nodded, not trusting his voice. He didn't care about whatever Crowley had to say to him. He didn't care about anything right now. He looked down to his six-year old brother sobbing uncontrollably and took his hand. He was ten years old, and the only family he had left was the little boy clutching his hand next to him. He would later learn that his father had, through his will, left his company in the hands of Crowley. It was also decided that Crowley, their mother's brother, would become the legal guardian of the Winchester brothers.

RUNNING UP THAT HILL

EIGHT YEARS LATER

Dean grabbed the waist of the girl in front of him and pressed his mouth to hers. He pulled away panting for the air he was just previously denied and loosened the tie around his neck. Damn private schools and their dress code. Dean grinned and leaned in to kiss her again, just as eagerly as the last time. He moved to her neck as she lifted her chin to allow him more access.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? I thought you would be suspended if you were caught skipping class again?" she breathed.

Not bothering to stop kissing her neck, Dean groaned.

"Mhmm, baby, you're killing the mood. Don't worry about it, no one will find us," he answered between kisses. Minutes later, he pulled away at the sound of his phone ringing. Checking the caller-ID, he saw the name CROWLEY flashing across the screen. Pressing the 'ignore' button, he put his phone away and returned to what he was doing.

"Who was that?" she asked, only slightly curious as she was, well, a bit preoccupied.

"No one important." They backed up into the fence behind the football stadium bleachers and Dean allowed his hands to roam freely up her thighs, pushing up her skirt. Dean was having a good time until…

"Dean Winchester!"

The girl he was with yelped in surprise and quickly pushed herself away to straighten herself up. Looking over to see the assistant principal striding towards them, Dean sighed. So much for his fun.

"Ms. Summers get back to class, I'll deal with you later. As for you young man, you will follow me to my office."

Dean rolled his eyes but followed her back.

"I'll have you know that I contacted your guardian. This has gone on for long enough. And straighten your tie," she snapped

Once they entered the office, Dean was met with yet another friendly face.

"Damn it Dean. Do you really think I don't have anything better to do than come clean up your messes?"

"Meg, always a pleasure," he greeted. Meg was Crowley's errand girl. She was also a bitch.

"I've told you, its Ms. Masters to you."

The corner of Dean's mouth pulled up into a smirk, showing he wasn't about to correct himself. The assistant principal next to him frowned.

"I thought Mr. Crowley was going to come?"

Meg plastered a patient smile on her face. "Mr. Crowley has much more important things to deal with than a degenerate teenager."

"I'm 18!" Dean protested.

Ignoring Dean, the assistant principal continued. "Well I was hoping to discuss this with his legal guardian, but I suppose we'll make due. Please, Ms. Masters, Dean, have a seat," she gestured to the two chairs in front of her desk and sat down in her own. Meg shot him another dirty glare before sitting. "The last time Dean skipped class to do… questionable activities… I told him he would be suspended. I still stand by my previous decision. Now, this behavior not only affects Dean but his fellow students." The rest of her rant was just as interesting. Dean zoned out somewhere between "extremely irresponsible" and "will not be tolerated". The only good thing about the situation was that Meg seemed pissed. She clearly wanted to be there just as much as Dean did.

He snapped back to attention when he heard Meg mention his name. "Well thank you for your time, Dean, is there anything you want to say?" she said, shooting him a meaningful glare.

"Oh, uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, "sorry, it won't happen again." He had to force himself not to smile as the principal pursed her lips: he used that line every time he was caught.

"Get in the car," Meg snapped as soon as they were outside. The chauffeur was waiting for their return and opened the limo door for them. Dean felt himself being pushed inside and moved to the seat furthest away from Meg, sitting directly across from her. At the sound of her phone ringing, Meg whipped out her cell to answer.

"Masters… Yes I have him now… Suspended…" she laughed," You'd think so , wouldn't you?... No, he's not that smart…"

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. He turned to glare out the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. The rest of the car ride continued as such, Meg continued to talk to her friend on the phone, more than once making a reference to how annoyed she was at the situation and taking stabs at Dean's intelligence. Something about Meg just got under Dean's skin; he absolutely could not stand her. He would probably start throwing punches if Meg weren't a girl.

He loosened his tie and reached for his school bag once they neared the mansion. Dean wordlessly got out of the car once it stopped, eager to get away from the bitch.

"This better not happen again, Dean!" he heard Meg shout out the window. Not even turning around, he responded by flipping her off, still walking toward the house.

The house. He hated the house. Everything about it screamed Crowley. Everywhere he went was a constant reminder of the life he hated. He went into his room to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and decided to go to the gym and work out his frustrations.

"Mr. Winchester, is there anything I can get for you?"

Dean tensed; he almost made it to the gym without being bothered. Taking a deep breath to try and bury his frustration, he reminded himself that this woman was just doing her job. He failed.

"You're new here, and I get that, but I'm pretty sure that I've told you before to call me Dean. And another thing, I don't need you, or anyone else for that matter, to follow me around and wipe my ass for me. I'm a big boy now, I can do it myself. I promise you, it wont kill me. So for the last time, no, I do not need anything except for five freaking minutes where someone isn't breathing down my neck. Can you do that for me?"

She stood there in shock before fumbling with her words. "I'm sorry Mr. Wi- Dean. It won't happen again."

Dean ran a hand over his face. Now he felt bad on top of his frustration. "No, I'm sorry. It's just I'm a little frustrated right now, but I didn't mean to take it out on you." He forced a smile and the maid gave him one back.

"I'll be sure to tell the other maids you don't want to be bothered."

Dean only smiled back at her. They already know not to bother me at all. Finally making it to the gym in the west wing of the mansion, he slipped on his gloves and began beating into a punching bag. He only paused when he saw Sam come in.

"Hey Sammy," he greeted, continuing to lay it into the punching bag.

"Hey Dean," he set his backpack down and started to take out his homework. "So I heard you were suspended again. What was it for this time?" Sam asked nonchalantly.

"Skipping," he grunted.

Sam rolled his eyes but didn't say anything more about it. Dean gave a final jab into the bag, bent down to grab his water bottle, and then went to go sit against the wall next to Sam.

"Guess what?" Sam challenged as Dean drank from his water bottle. "Y'know that test I was concerned about? Well…" he flashed a packet of papers with a 100% scrawled across the top in red ink, along with a huge grin.

Dean returned the grin, grabbing for the paper. "See, I told you not to worry. You're too much of a geek to not do good," he said, ruffling Sam's hair in a playful manner. Sam began swatting his hands at his to stop him, so Dean moved his arm around Sam's shoulders in a kind of half-hug.

"It's awesome, Sammy. I knew you'd do good."

Sam's smile grew at the praise. He looked away a moment before looking back to Dean and wrinkling his nose. "Dude, you reek," he complained, but made no move to shrug off Dean's arm.

Dean looked down to his sweaty pits and leaned in to take a small whiff. "You kidding me? This is how a real man smells. Take it in while you can, there's no way you'll ever smell this good."

"Whatever, jerk."

"Bitch." Dean took a last swig of his water bottle and stood up. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. You want some food?"

"I could eat." A mischievous grin crossed his face. "Race you to the kitchen."

"You want me to kick your ass in a race? Alright then, say when."

As soon as Sam said the word, they both bolted out the door. Dean pushed Sam aside so he could get out the door first, and grinned as he ran down the hallway when he heard Sam whine "No fair Dean!"

Dean pounded down the hallways he'd known since he was 10, dodging the occasional maid or servant. He whipped his head around to see Sam following closely on his tail and started laughing at the concentration that was etched on his brother's face. Sam didn't lose the look of concentration but started laughing too, just because the laughing was so contagious. Dean turned around and saw his exit, the steps that led down to the main floor. He jumped clear across the first set of steps to land on the platform, then took another step before he was jumping down the next clump of stairs. He took a quick glance back to see that Sam was no longer following him. He must have decided to wait for the next set of steps, bringing him around a different way. He raced through the house to the right wing and finally reached the kitchen. He looked around to see that he beat Sam, and then took a moment to catch his breath. He started digging in the fridge when he heard his brothers labored breaths behind him.

He sighed when he saw Dean was already there. "What way did you go?"

"The better way apparently," he chuckled. "I took the way that passes by the rec room. What made you so slow?"

"I passed by the pool and slipped on some water," he laughed at himself in tired breaths. "I'm going to beat you one of these days."

"Keep dreaming." Scanning the fridge, he weighed his options. He looked up when he heard an older man's voice enter the room.

"Ah, Sam is there anything I can get for you?" the servant asked. He froze however, when he saw Dean.

"Naw, that's alright I think Dean is going to make something. Thanks though Jerry."

"My apologies Dean, I didn't see you there. Very well then, I'll be around if you need me." Sam gave him a smile and Dean just grunted and looked back into the fridge.

"You could be nicer to them you know."

Dean sighed and pulled out some eggs. "I'd be nicer if they weren't so annoying. Always asking me if I need something, or if there's anything they can do. I don't need someone to hold my hand when I walk around the house."

"Well I think most of them try to give you a five mile radius anyway. You've made it pretty clear to them all you don't want them around."

"Not clear enough apparently. Do you want eggs?" he asked, changing the subject.

Sam sighed knowing exactly what Dean was doing but consented to the eggs anyway. Dean cracked a couple eggs in the pan and started making scrambled eggs. Once they were done he took out a plate for Sam and dumped the eggs on it. He then cracked a couple more and proceeded to make himself a plate.

"So why were you skipping this time?" Sam asked, shoving some eggs in his mouth.

"Julie Summers," was all Dean needed to reply.

Sam scoffed. "You're such a man whore."

"Don't be jealous Sammy; you'll get a girl someday."

"I can get girls," he whined.

"Oh, so you mean to tell me that you've finally asked that Sarah chick out on a date? Y'know, the girl you've been pining over for weeks now."

"I have not been pining," he flushed. "And the right moment hasn't come up yet."

"Well what are you waiting for, man? Just go and ask her to a movie. Girls like guys with confidence. Try not to show her your nerdy side too much though." Dean laughed through his eggs when Sam gave him a punch to the arm for that comment.

Once they were finished, Dean grabbed Sam's plate. "Alright, get outta here. Go do your homework."

Dean washed both their plates and set them back in the cupboard. He then ran up the stairs to take a shower to wash off the sweat from the gym. Afterwards, he headed toward the garage to work on his car. It was a beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala, his pride and joy. It was his father's car, before he died, and they had been working on it together. They were never able to finish it. He was buried deep in oil when he heard his name being called.

"Winchester."

Dean spun around to see two of Crowley's goons standing in the doorway, looking directly at him. Dean sighed; he knew this was coming. "What can I do for you boys?"

"Mr. Crowley would like to see you."

"Is that so?" he sighed, wiping his hands clean of oil.

"Now."

"Well since you boys asked so nicely, how can I resist?" Shutting the hood of the car, he took his time grabbing the cloth and to cover the car again. He walked to the door past the two men. He didn't need to ask where Crowley was. The only time he talked to Crowley was in his office.

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Oh and don't worry, there are more characters to come. Obviously Crowley is introduced in the next chapter. Bobby won't appear until a couple more chapters, but he's got a major part. Cas, Ellen, Jo; the gang's all here. If you want to see anybody else... well I'm open to suggestions