Dean Winchester had no memory of what just happened to him. None at all. Instead, all he knew was that he was stood outside a high school, surrounded by cliques of students clutching folders and exercise books, chatting and laughing with their friends. That he was a hunter, had been raised that way since pretty much forever, had a kid brother called Sammy; that his mother died when he was four years old so their dad had brought them up. Oh, and that he was currently fifteen years old.

When he looked down, he realised he was also carrying the same exercise books as the other kids, though they were pristine and smelled like new books, as opposed to the dog-eared books of the other students. So, it must have been his first day attending that school. Before Dean had chance to register at reception, or even move from his stationary and bewildered state, a lone, blonde-haired girl approached him.

"Hey, kid. You look lost. Need some help?" She spoke rather abruptly, though she didn't come across as rude, probably due to the fact she was offering support. Her hazel eyes closely studied Dean's face. The hunter immediately put up his guard, being slightly suspicious of the girl, even though she seemed genuine enough. When she realised this, she stuck out a hand and introduced herself.

"Jo Harvelle. I'm in tenth grade." Dean warily shook her hand, before easing himself into a return introduction.

"Dean. Dean Winchester. Also tenth grade, I think."

"You're new here, right? I can tell. You have that poor confused school boy look about you. The other kids would have eaten you up if you stayed that way for much longer." Looking vaguely offended, the young hunter bit his tongue from retaliating in a rude manner – he couldn't afford to make enemies on his first day, especially when Jo was only trying to help him. "Follow me," She continued. "I'm headed to reception anyway."

"Sure." After collecting his timetable, Jo gave Dean a quick tour of the campus so he knew where his lessons would be taking place; she wasn't in many of his lessons herself. Soon, the first period bell emanated its tinny resonations throughout the building, therefore both students went their separate ways; Jo strode over to Maths, while Dean dashed to English.

The boy arrived to class at around the same time as the other students. A pretty girl with dark eyes and glossy black hair bounced past him, grinning and winking flirtatiously. Dean gave her a quick smile back before he sneaked to the back of the classroom, right in the corner, and took a seat next to the window. Staring out of it evasively as a way of avoiding eye contact with the other kids, Dean had no choice but to reply when a taller, pig-headed looking guy addressed him.

"Hey, jerk-face. Out of my seat." He demanded, gesturing for the new boy to scuttle. Dean immediately took to despising him, therefore couldn't resist a comeback.

"Alright, douchebag, why don't you calm down? No need to be like that, man." The hunter maintained a spiteful tone, yet shifted out of the desk anyway. The boy glared at him as he slouched where Dean had been just a moment ago. By that time, the classroom was pretty much full, so Dean simply stood to the side, his bag hanging lop-sided off one shoulder as he decided where he should go.

A hesitant cough sounded from the desk in front. Whipping his head around, the young hunter instantly noticed a small-ish boy perched on the edge of his chair, his cobalt-blue eyes staring directly into Dean's jewel-green ones, though somehow still managing to take in every aspect of him. The boy was wearing a smart white shirt and blue trousers, crisply ironed, decorated with a tan trench coat which seemed a couple of sizes too big for him. The only feature which wasn't entirely neat was his tie, a plain navy-blue one which was facing backwards and not completely tied up to the top. His dark brown hair was stuck up in tufts, giving him a perfectly well-behaved yet vaguely scruffy look. Dean's lips parted slightly as he dragged his eyes over the boy's outfit and face, drinking in every minute detail.

"You can sit here if you want." The boy's voice was monotonous, however had a certain tone to it that was delightfully comforting, despite the fact that he was evidently nervous and embarrassed. Dean couldn't fathom why.

"Oh, er, don't mind if I do." The green-eyed hunter pulled out the plastic chair next to the boy, hastily stuffing his bad under the desk. He flashed him a stunning smile of gratitude before greeting him in a friendly manner. "So, uh, what's your name? I'm Dean Winchester."

"My name is Castiel." Castiel replied, his voice remaining very much the same tone throughout as he introduced his odd name, evidently without a surname.

"Cool. So, you been going here long?"

"I began six days ago exactly."

"Nice. We can both be newbies together, huh." No reply.

"Okay then…" Dean was beginning to feel awkward. Why was Castiel acting so indifferent if he'd initially shown interest in him? When Dean didn't say anything else, Castiel apparently sensed his discomfort and spoke, those blue, blue eyes unrelenting in the way their glare penetrated him.

"I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?" His head tilted to the side and he squinted his eyes in a questioning manner.

"No! Uh, no, not at all. You're just- Nothing. I've never met someone like you before. I mean, a trench coat? Who are you, Columbo?" Dean laughed excessively to show he wasn't taking the mick.

"Who is Columbo?" Castiel looked all the more curious.

"He's a detective, a fictional character. You-you haven't heard of him?" Castiel shook his head. "Wow."

Before the two could participate in further conversation, the teacher strode into the classroom. It was only then when Dean remembered exactly where he was – he'd lost himself for a moment. Castiel reached into his expectedly neat backpack for his English textbook and found the correct page. Dean copied him, peering at the page number so he didn't fall behind.

"Right, then. Today we will be studying the text on page one-nine-five. Excuse me – you there at the back. You're the new student, yes?" The teacher babbled on, before noticing Dean and pointing him out.

"Yes, sir. Dean Winchester."

"And you registered at reception this morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good, well I'm sure the other students will get you up to speed – I can't really afford to catch you up at the moment. Right, page one-nine-five, are you all there? Let's get on, shall we?"

Dean struggled to keep up in that lesson, and when the second period bell went, he packed away his equipment with vigour, eager to escape a place in which he felt vulnerable and stupid for being unable to understand most of the lesson. Castiel turned to him immediately, once they were standing up to leave, his voice saturated with concern.

"Are you alright, Dean? You didn't seem to write much in that lesson."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure I'll get used to it. It's not like I'll be here for long anyway."

"I'm free this lunchtime – I can help you catch up if you want." Those shards of blue searched Dean's face for an answer, seeming to long for acceptance.

"I guess. I doubt I'll have anything better to do. Or we could just, you know, hang out." The hunter felt like mentally kicking himself for making himself sound so ridiculous. How difficult could it be to ask a kid to hang out with him?

"Yes, I would like that." Although Castiel's face was externally rather unemotive, his happiness at gaining company almost glowed from within, surprising Dean by not seeming to be phased by his idiocy.

"Great! I've got Science now, so I'll catch you up at break, yeah?" Dean beamed back at his newfound friend before waving and heading towards the labs as Castiel nodded in agreement of his meeting plan. Things were going pretty good already.