A/N: Please tell me if this is confusing, I promise to fix it! But then it's supposed to be slightly confusing, from a minor character perspective. Everything will be cleared up (hopefully) in the next chapter. Sorry, but enjoy!

Fairfax, Indiana is an exceedingly average town. Truman High isn't the best school, nor is it the worst school. It's just like any other high school in the country. Actually, it's too much like the average American high school. There's the bottom of the food chain, the little freshmen who have yet to be corrupted by the distasteful system. Then there's the bottom of the bottom - the little freshman kid, Barry, who's bullied even by other freshman. Thankfully, they're just kids who resort to paper throwing and tripping. That's probably the only reason why none of their teachers have done anything. There are the cheerleaders with their curls and skimpy outfits that they get dress-coded for less often than they should. There are the "jocks", a fancy term for sporty boys, who think muscles make up for brains. Then there's the top of those, too. It's hard to be around hundreds of kids all day without getting and earful of their hottest gossip. Apparently, Amanda Heckerling is the source of all the boys' wet dreams. But today, the rowdiness isn't centered on how attractive they find her.

"No way. Seriously?"

"Yeah, dude. You know she always wanted the well rounded ones."

"That's why she turned you down, you make straight Cs. She said it's a sign that you can't keep yourself focused on what's important."

Snickers erupt all around.

"Shut up! Just because Collins makes straight As doesn't mean he's better boyfriend material!"

"He's also captain of the soccer team."

"Who's side are you on anyway?!"

"Mr. King, maybe you should concentrate on bringing your grades up then, instead of complaining about it." Mr. Beckett fixed him with a sharp look over the rim of his glasses.

They turned forward with a mumbled "Sorry" and began doodling on the paper instead. It's going to be a long day, Mr. Beckett sighed tiredly.

The next hour was even worse. Amanda Heckerling is in this class, and the general population has become flies hovering around a fast food restaurant.

"How did he ask?"

"Is he the romantic type?"

"No, it was sort of just mutual." Amanda is looking harassed.

"Aw, he didn't get you flowers or something?"

"Is he supposed to?"

"I would have gotten you flowers!" Someone said loudly.

"Well you didn't, did you?"

Giggles erupted.

"Who said she'd even go out with you? Misha is soooo cuuuuute."

"He's hilarious too. And then he gets that expression of concentration on his face and he speaks all slow when he's trying to explain something and it's just really hot."

"I'd appreciate if you stop swooning over my boyfriend." Amanda laughs.

They continue swooning at the word "boyfriend", of course.

"We'll have a pop quiz over this material in ten minutes."

"WHAT?!"

"It'll be worth 20 points."

Moaning and groaning ensues. They act as if teachers take special pleasure from making assignments and grading them. They're allowed their 5 minutes before class to socialize, and then they can take their conversation elsewhere, Mr. Beckett reasons. They're not the only ones with deadlines and schedules to keep. He's the one having to make scores of teenagers cooperate in order to meet his. He sighs and begins making that quiz he promised in ten minutes.

Amanda is a good kid, even if she's a bit misled sometimes. She means well, but lets her emotions take hold of things. Collins on the other hand… Sometimes Mr. Beckett just can't figure that kid out. He realizes uncomfortably that Collins has that aura that makes him feel less authoritative around the boy. Something in his stance or tone reminds Beckett of a child who is playing along with the parents' antics knowingly, or even of the parents playing along with the kid's cute delusions. Don't get him wrong, Misha Collins is good at his studies, phenomenal in sports, and perfectly pleasant and polite. Hell, he's good at practically anything he does (like that one time they built catapults for physics. They all turned out to be cute little put-together projects made of wood, pipes, and rubber bands, but Misha's was closer to a piece of carefully sanded-down art than a science project for school.) Sometimes he just seems off, even though he's a perfect social butterfly the best of times. Other teachers have noticed too. In the after-hours gossip exchange, his name has come up more than a handful of times.

It started with an English assignment all those years back when he was just another generic face in the tide of new freshmen. All the other essays had acceptably regurgitated what the teacher lectured about, and some added their own input if they knew about it, but Collins proceeded to get the entire Bible wrong rather confidently. When confronted about his less than factual paper, he merely looked confused and apologized profusely. He had been one of the brightest students with that one exception, all his papers hitting what even the teacher neglected to point out. His accuracy was unheard of, which was why that assignment makes it to the student-gossip list. After that, his little quirks that have been previously unnoticed suddenly stood out sharply. First, there are those misplaced facial expressions, like when he would smile a little too warmly at a sentence not meant to be pleasant ("pass these papers back please", or "what did you pick for your project?") It has caught him unawares a few times, and made him wonder if he had said "you're one of my favorite students" instead. However, that smile would be gone in a flash, and he would answer normally. Mr. Beckett isn't the only one made uncomfortable by this, he's checked. Then, it's the way he speaks. That "slow" way of speaking the girl was gushing about reminds him of explaining the curriculum to a student who has yet to take the class; knowing they won't understand because they haven't taken the class yet, and having to make a brief overview that isn't exactly accurate, but serves the purpose well enough. You can't tell them they'll learn derivatives and integrals and differential equations, it only makes sense to talk about rates of change and areas under the slope. Maybe he's wrong to mistrust just because it makes him feel intellectually inferior.

Despite all his quirks, everyone is inexplicably drawn to him. Maybe it's even because of those quirks. He's different, yet the same, like a brick in a uniform wall that's just 2 shades of red away from all the others.

Then Mr. Beckett reminds himself that this is probably how people who knew a serial killer described them; brilliant and magnetic, yet slightly strange. Maybe the reason he's so popular is because he almost acts like the model older brother. Idolized and patronizing to the point that no one ever notices he's being patronizing. Nothing against Collins, but if Mr. Beckett had a daughter, she would be kept far away from him. It's likely an unprofessional thought, but as long as he keeps it to himself, it'll be harmless.

Speak of the Devil.

"Hello, Mr. Beckett."

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Collins. I hope you found last night's assignment alright."

"Just fine, Mr. Beckett."

"Excellent."

Misha flashes a smile and sinks into his usual seat by the window, to his classmates' chagrin. It's as if he knows he will be surrounded otherwise, and is trying to keep a little space to himself without being rude. Space that happens to be a wall, in this case. As always, he's soon swamped by a clump of team mates and girls. The bell rings just as they collectively laugh at something Misha was saying.

"Go back to your seats everyone! And if you would please pass up your homework…"

Sometimes, David Beckett doesn't think Misha knows exactly how popular he is, and sometimes he thinks Misha knows exactly what kind of effect he has on people and uses it flawlessly to his advantage. Maybe that's useless to say, because sometimes he thinks the Colts will beat the Patriots, and sometimes he thinks that they'll lose. His opinion doesn't have any consequence or significance, but he can't stop himself from forming them. It's been a month and a half since Collins and Heckerling started dating, and Mr. Beckett finds his thoughts fixated on the young Collins again. By this time, the initial craze over the new drop in the dating pool has simmered down, and Misha seems quite content to bask in the quiet. Amanda, however, thrives in attention. He's witnessed her trying to get Misha into a make out session in the halls many times. Misha has never given in (thank god, he hates breaking up PDA) and Amanda is both begrudged and charmed by his rather mature tendencies to stay classy and his uncaring towards other people's opinions. Self-certainty is one of his greatest charms. Like any other high school girl, she definitely has a need to show off her new-found sexuality to the public (maybe it's an evolutionary thing that broadcasts puberty), but somehow the Collins kid is completely unfazed. Mr. Beckett remembers with a stab of embarrassment that not even he had that kind of iron control when he was that age. But it's no surprise, Misha will definitely grow up to be a better man than he, maybe a famous politician or CEO – someone who will have a big impact on society and everyone will know. He seems like the type. Amanda is never upset at him for the lack of gaudy attention; he makes up for it in a multitude of other ways. To make up for the lack of PDA though, Amanda has inadvertently subjected Mr. Beckett to many a stage-whispered conversation about how mazing Misha is in bed and giggled revealing of hickeys and so forth. It seems that not even Misha Collins is above sacrificing a bit of intelligence and maturity for pretty curls and blinding smiles.

Today, it seems, Amanda has to share a little more of her spotlight. There's a new show in town. He hears about it in second hour.

"…And he was like 'not really, sweetheart.' And man, shoulda seen her face at that."

They laughed at his comically flirtatious impressions.

"He totally checked Amada out too. Saw it with my own two eyes."

Amanda blushed and laughed. "Dean looked at me! You guys look at me all the time!"

"Deannnn~" Someone cooed in the midst of giggles

"Come on, even you don't believe that!"

Really, why does he even try to keep them on task?

Come next period, he didn't even bother asking Dean to introduce himself. He does a fine job of that himself, no need to get the poor teacher involved in his snark. He's pulled in all of the attention and Misha seems quite happy to revel in his rare peace from the edge of the social circle.

He fits in nicely, even stands out a little. He's an instant hit with the ladies of course. For some reason, he never takes up various invitations to party or hang out. He's offered them often enough. Some whine that he's a snob, but Mr. Beckett doesn't think that's the case. He and Misha seem to be two of a kind; people gravitate towards them and they enjoy it well enough, but there seems to be something higher on the priority list. The other strange thing is, they don't talk much. They've probably exchanged words and the like since it's hard to be the two royals of the social circle without speaking to each other. They both seem content to keep to themselves and whoever chooses to surround them. At first Mr. Beckett thought that it was rivalry, but that wasn't it. If they had a problem with each other, they'd merely fight it out, verbally or physically. Mr. Beckett thinks of them as alphas of some sort – if they were threatened, they'd confront each other. Right now, they're comfortable in their own territories or something. Have they spoken about this? No, it seems to be a mutual unspoken thing. How they came to an agreement without so much as a conversation or prolonged eye contact is beyond the math teacher. Maybe they're more similar that even he originally thought.

However, Amanda seems unaware of the arrangement and hops back and forth through the circles, confused on why her boyfriend isn't friends with the charming Winchester. She spends time soaking up in the attention Dean lathers over her, giggling, and the other portion of her time with the more reserved Misha. Even then, they grudgingly stay out of each other's way. It was a topic brought up over a cup of coffee in the mornings before school whether Collins and Winchester were going to be a problem due to the ever-fickle Amanda, but so far, they have been on their best behavior, not a single dirty look. More than a few eyebrows were raised over that.

The Monday of the week Mr. Beckett has lunch duty he immediately spots the Dean. He enters in the midst of a group of cheerleaders and jocks. It's the only new addition to that crowd. He is definitely as smooth as they say. Even Amanda passes by and smiles at him before prancing off to find Misha.

Unexpectedly, he peels himself away from the group and approaches a few little freshman boys, one of which is Barry Cook, the previously mention bottom-of-the-food-chain. Mr. Beckett tenses, ready to step in if anything happens. However, his preconceptions are torn down even further when Dean ruffles the other boy's hair and sits down next to him. His expression immediately darkens as he sees the smaller boy. Mr. Beckett fidgets with anxiety. What the hell is going on? Dean pulls the younger boy's face towards him with finger under his chin, but the younger one squirms out of his grip.

"Who the fuck did that to you?" Dean practically shouted.

A few heads turned. The younger boy shook his head and said something softer that Mr. Beckett didn't quite catch, and led a fuming Dean (who looked like he was about to stick a spoon into someone's eye) out of the cafeteria by the shirt sleeve.

"The Winchesters. You have the older one?" Mr. Wyatt was standing beside him, eyes on the retreating backs.

"Yeah. Dean is in my next period." Mr. Wyatt probably knows the younger one. He teaches freshman English. "They're brothers?"

"Yeah, the little one is the sweetest thing, and ridiculously smart. Name's Sam, got into a fight with Dirk for telling him to lay off Barry."

"Brave one?"

Mr. Wyatt shrugs. "I'd say naïve. He didn't retaliate before I showed up, so at least he won't be in trouble in his first month at school."

"Getting punched is enough trouble in my eyes."

Mr. Wyatt laughs. "What about the older one?"

"Heard some bad things, authority defying ladies' man and all that. He hasn't given me trouble specifically though."

Mr. Wyatt seemed amused. "Really? Is that so bad?"

"Well… Not good either. He doesn't make it easy either."

"He's pretty protective of the little one though, huh? Hopefully he doesn't actually go after Dirk."

"Looks like Sam has got him wrapped around a finger though. D'you see the way he just dragged him out? The kid's like 2 feet shorter. It's like… it's like watching a ferret take an angry stallion on a walk."

Mr. Wyatt laughed. "Ever considered poetry?"

Mr. Beckett made a face. "Go back to work, slacker."

"Alright, have a good day, and good luck with the other Winchester."

Several things happened at once, and then slowly snowballed out. An obscure murder that happened weeks ago came to light once more as several more followed in its wake. Kids were given strict curfews by the city. Hell, everyone never stayed out once it got dark. The Mr. Wyatt planted something in his mind that couldn't be unsaid.

"Sam said his dad was a mechanic. He's obviously been leaving the kids alone for days, weeks at a time. He said he's here on a job and will be gone as soon as the job is done. What kind of mechanic does that? And when you look at it in respect to what's been happening…"

"You're saying that… Their dad is related to this somehow?" Mr. Beckett asked, a little horrified at the thought.

"I don't know. But assuming he is, then the dad is either the guy responsible for them, or he's FBI or something."

And it's true. It made a lot of sense. Especially the day when Dirk McGregor pushed his luck with Sam Winchester. It was a huge deal among even the seniors. They claim that Dirk had pushed him, and Sam had ignored him until he crossed a line in one of his insults, and was promptly methodically beat up by the kid half his size. Mr. Beckett hopes it's the FBI option and not the psychotic murderer.

As the murders escalated, both Collins and the Winchesters grew uneasy. No one noticed because, hell, everyone was uneasy, but I wasn't quite the same. Dean was agitated and no longer playful. He was no longer indulgent to those who he had graciously bantered with. Only now did it show how he was merely putting up with the general public rather accommodatingly, and that he didn't really prefer their companionship at all. More than a few feelings were hurt. He stopped doing homework all together and was always attached to Sam's side. It was past the intangible worry of something bad happening. The way the Winchesters talked in quiet tones was different to the awkward chatter of people avoiding the topic, or the fearful exchanges. Collins was withdrawn, a completely different persona than his previous kind of withdrawn. He had just been collected and concentrated before, whenever he was alone, and when he wasn't, he was the life of any conversation. Now, he avoids conversations actively, and puts up with them with wan smiles and half-hearted remarks. When he was alone, he looked stressed. Mr. Beckett, worried about his health, had asked him one day after class if anything was wrong. Misha's eyes widened and he quickly asked if there was anything wrong. He quickly reassured the boy that nothing was wrong, and the kid high-tailed it out of here immediately.

Dean, unlike Misha, still liked his old antics despite having a shorter patience. In fact, if he hadn't known Dean before, he'd say that the kid was completely unaffected by this whole friends and neighbors getting ripped apart thing. With the new development, Amanda is even more put off by Misha's reclusiveness and had taken to sticking by Dean more and more often. Because of the unnaturally high tensions, the long-due Collins/Winchester feud surfaced.

One particular day stood out. Mr. Beckett isn't sure what exactly it was. Maybe the dynamics of Collins and Winchester. Collins looked like he had seen a ghost, and Dean was in a much better mood. By afternoon, there was already whispered rumors circulating around that Amanda Heckerling had made out with Dean Winchester in a supply closet. It's still unclear whether the mood preceded the making out or whether it was the direct result of it. Usually the news would practically be broadcasted with a megaphone, but the mood didn't allow for it. Even so, Collins had most definitely heard, and Mr. Beckett found himself worrying again about the two oddities. As he sorted papers after school, students long gone, there was a commotion somewhere down the hall. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes tiredly, thinking that going home early to see his wife wasn't going to work today. After a moment of debate, sense of duty won over. Pushing himself out of the chair, he proceeded to open the door. Except the door knob didn't turn. That's weird; the doors don't lock on the inside. He cursed the timing of a faulty door knob. He turned to look for something, anything that might get him out of the situation, and saw nothing but black. It wasn't black like the text on a page, or the shiny paint on a black car, or even the black that you saw when you closed your eyes. It was hardly even black – more like nothing. So, he saw nothing. He had time for his eyes to widen before it was all around him, inside him, through him. He could have sworn he heard an amused voice before he slipped out of consciousness.