CHAP 2

Dean Winchester Also hates Mondays

John Winchester was, to say the least, a distant father. Even when they were together, he just found it difficult to find any common ground with his sons. Apart from hunting, they didn't have much in common, other than their relationship. He didn't know how to be a father, not really. He knew how to be a commander, an officer, yeah, but that didn't always cut it. No, Dean was much happier caring for himself and his brother, Sam, the way he had for years.

John had dropped them off in South Dakota yesterday, saying something about a nest of Vampires nearby, and how he couldn't take them all out on his own. Dean's cousin Jo, (and her parents, obviously,) lived close. The three of them were also hunters, so by the time the Winchester's got there, the spare rooms had been prepped, Ellen and Bobby had seated two more for dinner, and the three adults had left almost instantly.

Dean couldn't say he minded. He loved his dad, sure, he just...preferred his own way of living. Simple as that.

He awoke that day, as many teenagers do, feeling like a mobile mess, wholly oblivious to how this day would change his life. He considered dozing off again, into the welcoming arms of slumber, but swung his legs over the mattress before he could drift off. He stretched, hearing his spine crack pleasingly. He groaned, and yawned, beginning to trudge down the carpeted stairs of the smallish South Dakota house.

There was a note, on the fridge, scrawled in his father's messy hand.

'Dean, sorry I'm not around, but I had to leave. Be back in two weeks. I heard there's something potentially paranormal at your new school. Check it out with Jo, for me.'

Typical. Not even a 'goodbye', or an 'I love you, son, you make me proud.' Dean smirked at the thought. John Winchester, a proud father? Yeah, right. Just another case.

He grabbed the box of cereal from the counter, and poured a bowl for himself, then another.

"Hey, Sammy, Jo! Breakfast!"

The younger Winchester hurtled down the stairs, ever the morning person, and grabbed the bowl and half-fell into a chair. "Has dad gone?" The brunet brother asked.

"Yeah, Sammy, he left this morning, with Ellen and Bobby. He'll be back in two weeks, so if you want to have a party, now's the time, 'Kay? Just don't trash the place..."

Sam smirked. "Yeah, Dean, 'cause I'm the one who punched the whole in the wall at the last one."

Dean just grinned. "Bitch."

Sam mimicked his smile. "Jerk."

Jo trudged down the stairs, glaring at them. Dean handed her a coffee, which she accepted. Jo was a year younger than Dean, at fifteen, and Sam was twelve. That being said, all three of them knew things that would make some adults sick to the stomach.

"You ready for a new school? I promise, Sammy, this'll be the last, yeah?"

Sam seemed to take this as a less-than-truth, but nodded. "Uh-huh. Sure, Dean."

"Hey, Jo, dad said there's been some weird stuff goin' down at the school, and we gotta check it out."

Sam groaned. "And I miss all the fun because I'm too young. Typical!"

When the three of them had eaten, Dean grabbed his jacket, and the keys to the car his father had left him; a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. It was a fine car, black as soot, and it drove like a dream, purring silently and it slid over the asphalt road. Dean loved it.

The three kids bundled into the car, and began the journey to their schools.

Sam was too young for highschool, though Dean thought he could probably handle the work. Dean was proud of how well Sam did despite his broken education. They dropped him off at the Junior High before Jo directed him to her school. Dean knew how to integrate, and would probably be taken in at once by the 'popular' kids, mainly due to his looks, he knew. It happened every time. It didn't matter who he hung out with; it was only until dad got back. He wondered, idly, which of their cases would get solved first.

So, the school day began. He expected, like normal, to fall asleep in math. To eat lunch with Jo. To bunk last period, scouting for anything 'weird'.

The powers that be, however, had other plans.

Jo had left him to fend for himself, spotting a friend and running to meet her. The woman at the reception gave him a timetable just as a large-ish group of kids banded through the doors. The woman, who's name he'd promptly forgotten, called to one member of the group, "Castiel! Can I ask a favour of you?"

And what kind of name is Castiel?

He turned to look at the newcomer, and anything else the woman said was drowned out by his own thoughts. The guy, Castiel or whatever, was stunning. Light blue eyes that made Dean feel like he was flying, but in a good way, met his own. A dark twisted mass of hair contrasted the cerulean gaze immaculately. Dean was lost until his mind caught up with his heartbeat. His face, he could tell, was red.

"So, Cas, where to?"

Shit.