Destiel big bang 1
Title: Adolescence at an all-male boarding school
Author: Signe_chan
Fandom/Genre: High School AU
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 43,765
Warnings:
Artist:
Art link: Coming soon
Summary:
Dean doesn't want to go to a stupid boarding school. Sam loves the stupid boarding school.
"Having your adolescence at an all-male boarding school is just crap."
Benedict Cumberbatch
Ronald Smith was a quiet man. He had two dogs, a small house which he shared with his wife and her jigsaw collection and on the weekend he enjoyed fishing. He was also a school guidance counselor. The job was one he'd fallen into. He'd been happy working at the factory, but they'd not been happy with him working there and his sister in law had been teaching at West Planes high at the time. She's talked him up, he'd got the job, and he'd found his calling.
While Ronald had liked the factory he found that he loved the school. His room was a trove of information on colleges and scholarships and he took time for each of his students. Most were easy of course. They had a dream; he just needed to look through his alphabetic files for the answer for them. Some were harder and sometimes a case landed on his desk that demanded his full attention.
He began to hear good reports about Sam Winchester about a week after the boys had moved to the school. When prompted, teachers gave him similar but more exasperated stories about Dean. Two smart kids but their lives were in chaos. They were always tired in class; they'd be experts on one thing but never have heard of some basic principles.
Of course Ronald had met the boy's father when he enrolled them,and Mr Winchester had explained that his work kept them moving. Sam and Dean had never had stability and their education was suffering for it.
This was exactly the kind of case he was here to help with and, as always, he had a solution.
~*~*~*~
Dean wasn't sure how they'd gotten here, exactly. He'd been trying in this school since dad had yelled at him about the last school. Ok, so sneaking in to the chem. lab to have sex with the head cheerleader might have been an idiot move, he could agree with that in retrospect. What he didn't get was why his dad cared. It wasn't like Dean was going anywhere with this. It wasn't like he was smart or anything. When the hell was he going to need this stuff anyway? They all knew what he was going to do. The family business. It wasn't like he needed to graduate high school, the ghosts weren't gonna stop him and ask for his GED before they let themselves be exorcised.
Still, when he'd been called in to the school the last time his dad had gone ballistic at Dean, shouting and screaming about wasting time and causing fuss and how Dean needed to just keep his head down a little longer and work on this. About how Dean was a disappointment.
And, ok, he hate when his dad yelled at him like that. Hated being the disappointment. So he'd tried this time, he had. He hadn't fucked anyone. Well, this one girl, but she'd been the one to start it and they'd been discrete. He'd gone to nearly all his classes and he'd even tried to do some work. It was just stupid and infuriating but it was only one year then he could do what he was meant to. Something that would really made a difference.
When they came back from school one day and found dad waiting for them after a phone call from the school Dean knew shit was going to hit the fan. John was furious, wouldn't listen to a word they said, and stormed out for the night. The worst thing was he genuinely hadn't done anything this time.
Sammy had been quiet too, since apparently the phone call had been about him too - can you come in to school tomorrow to talk about your sons? He hadn't got the same yelling at that Dean had, just a disappointed "I expected better of you son", and what the hell. Did he not expect better of Dean? Or was Dean already failed away under eternal disappointment?
The next day dad turned up at lunch as asked. He hadn't gotten in the night before until three but had managed to scrape the stubble of his face, at least. Sammy looked like he wanted to bolt out the door, not go to the principal’s office, and Dean wondered if, for once, Sam had been the one to do something. But no, his little brother would never do anything like that. He was the brains of this operation.
The guidance counselor was waiting for them and ushered them in with a big grin and Dean hated him a little. If they'd done something bad enough to get called in to have a meeting then why was the guy grinning? Idiot.
"I'm so glad you could come," he said, sitting down in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. Dean stared at him incredulously; you'd think this was a tea party, not a dressing down.
"Yeah, what did Dean do this time?" his dad asked, and Dean flinched because he HADN'T. Not this time.
"Done?" the guidance counselor asked, and he had the nerve to look confused. "Well, he's not 'done' anything. I'm sorry; did you think he was in trouble?"
"Normally is," his dad said with a growl, and Dean wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.
"Oh no," the guidance counselor said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He's not in any trouble, unless there's something I don't know." He said that with a conspiratorial wink aimed at Dean and Dean flinched because, yeah, not like they were friends here or anything. He didn't like that familiarity.
"So, why did you call me in?" his dad asked, looking even more annoyed, "I'm a busy man!"
"I just wanted to talk to you about Sam and Dean's prospects," the guy said, smiling.
"Their prospects?" his dad asked, and Dean snorted. Surely they all knew their prospects. He and Sam were going to hunt things, with their dad, until they met a fight they couldn't win. Then they'd die and that would be it.
"Yes," the guidance counselor said, that infuriating grin not leaving his face. "I'm sure you're aware that you have two exceptionally intelligent sons here. Sam's teachers made that clear to me almost straight away and it took a little longer to filter through with Dean as he refuses to engage but when he does work, his work is of an exceptional standard."
"Bullshit," Dean snapped, forgetting himself for a second and getting a smack on the side of his head from his dad for his troubles. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing at his head. "I just, I'm nothing special."
"Of course you are," the guidance counselor said with some kind of manic grin. "Your problem, the problem with both your sons actually, Mr Winchester, is the fragmented nature of their education. I know you move for work but it means that the boys have missed a lot of material and repeated other sections over and over. It's disadvantaging them, Mr Winchester."
"I agree," John said, tightening his jaw. "I want them both to graduate, but what do you suggest I do. Work means I've gotta move and I can hardly leave them home alone."
"Actually, I have a solution," the guy says, beaming like he just unearthed a pot of gold or something. He reaches in to a drawer and pulls out a booklet, placing it purposefully in the middle of the table. Dean's dad lean over and snatched it, leafing through it quickly.
"No way we can afford this, sorry," he said, throwing it quickly back down again.
"You wouldn’t have to," the guidance counselor replied. "They run a scholarship program in conjunction with local schools in deprived areas, this one included. They take in boys who show talent and would benefit from a boarding environment and I've already spoken to them about Sam and Dean, they agree that they fit the profile."
"What is it?" Dean asked, reaching forward and snatching the booklet then almost immediately throwing it back. "Oh, no way. I am NOT going to some stupid boarding school."
"A boarding school," Sam said, eyes immediately lighting up. He reached forward and grabbed the book himself, leafing through it with eyes wide.
"Yes, and a very good one," the guidance counselor said, smiling benevolently. "They know this is an emergency case so could make room, providing you were willing, as soon as next week. Full ride scholarships. They may want Dean to enter a year below where he is now, to make up for the gaps in his knowledge, but they are an outstanding school and we've seen excellent results from them before. In such a highly academic atmosphere I'm sure Dean will have no problem catching up."
"We'll have to think about this," his dad said, but something in his tone made Dean realize he meant that. He was considering this and that wasn't fair.
"No way," he spat. "I'm not going."
"We'll talk about it," is dad said again, no room for argument in his tone, and Dean knew he'd lost already.
~*~*~*~
"I'm not going to stay here," Dean informed his dad, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is so stupid. I've got no business being here. Sam, ok, kid's smart. But not me. And you need me!"
"Don't flatter yourself, kid," his dad snapped, clearly no more swayed by the argument now they were pulling in to the school then he had been over the last week. "I hunted for years without your help, I can do it again."
"You shouldn't have to," Dean replied. "I should have your back. It's what I'm going to end up doing, after all. What the hell is the point of any of this?"
"You're getting an education," his dad growled. "I'm not arguing with you about this, Dean. It's happening. They're letting you get away with not going down a year, just be thankful of that."
"Damn right they are," Dean muttered. It was bad enough he was going to have to be here a year, two was unthinkable. They'd sent a pack with vouchers for uniforms and a 'guide to life at St. Michael's school' when they'd been enrolled, and Dean hadn't been able to bring himself to read more than a page of the thing, though Sam had read it cover to cover about ten times.
"Stop being such an idiot, Dean. This is great," Sam said, and it made sense that he was happy about it. All this learning, great place some someone with a brain in their head like Sammy. But Dean, he had no place here. He reason to be here.
"Shut up," he snapped back, but Sam just carried on grinning.
Luckily, before Sam could launch into another of his explanations about why this was going to be the best thing ever they pulled up to the reception. A woman was waiting for them, young and pretty and Dean guessed this was going to be it for things to look at for a while. He couldn’t believe that of all things he was being sent to an all-boys boarding school.
"Hello," she said, looking pleased and surprised though Dean was sure they must look a mess. "I'm Miss Lees, welcome to St Michael's. I take it you're John, Dean and Sam."
"Yes," John said, and he looked about as comfortable as Dean felt. Miss Lees smiled in a way that was almost aggressively friendly, holding out her hand first for John, then Sam, then Dean.
"It's so nice to meet you," she said. "We have dorm rooms ready for you, I'll take your round, and I've assigned each of you an older student to show you around the place and make sure you're feeling at home. You'll each have a tutor, obviously. I'll be your tutor, Sam. I'll stop by tonight after C.O. to make sure you're settling in. Dean, your tutor will be Mr. James, he'll do the same for you?"
"What's C.O.?" Dean asked, still scowling. He didn't like this woman or this place and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her chirpy attitude draw him in.
"Oh, goodness, did you not read the pack about the school day? C.O. is registration, really. We take it at breakfast and then again at nine, after study. Quiet study if from seven to nine every night and you need to be in your room and working. I'm sure you'll get the hang of things quickly; your student mentor in house will have a copy of your full timetable for you. No, let's get your bags and get you settled in. Sam, you're going to be in Franklin house. Dean, you're in Lincoln."
"Hey, wait," Dean said, folding his arms over his chest. "Are you telling me that Sam and I aren't in the same house?"
She blinked at him, and then smiled softly, as though they were friends and she was trying to comfort him.
"I'm sorry," she said, touching his arm. "I know you'd like to be with your brother but you've joined us late, we need to fit you in where we can. Don't worry; you'll still have plenty of time to see each other."
"No way," Dean said, pulling back. He could cope with a lot of things, but not this. Sammy was his brother; he couldn't leave him behind here. Anything could happen to him.
"Doesn’t be an idiot, Dean," Sam said, looking at Dean like this didn't bother him. Like he didn't care that Dean wouldn't even be there if he needed him. "I'll see you all the time."
Miss Lees beamed at him as if Sam had just cured cancer or something, and Dean glared at the both of them, but by the time he was done glaring his Dad had pulled open the trunk and thrown their bags out.
"I've not got time for this, Dean," he said, as though Dean was being a problem again. "Come on and get your bag. Let's get you settled then I need to get back on the road."
And it was that tone, the one you didn't argue with. Dean didn't argue, what would be the point, he'd lost again already. He wasn't going to hunt, his dad was going to go out there and do this without him. He wasn't going to get to look after Sammy; someone else would be doing that. Some surrogate dorm big brother. What the hell was the point in anything anymore?
He hated it here.
~*~*~*~
Sam loved it here.
He had known he would from the minute he first opened the booklet Mr Smith had given them. The campus was beautiful, and it was normal. He was going to have a bed of his own and, ok, it would be in a dorm so it wouldn't be his own room but next year he'd have a room of his own and he had his own study.
Miss Lees had dropped him off and taken dad and Dean on and, okay, he was sad to see Dad go but this was his chance! His chance to have friends and to be normal and happy,. Everything he'd ever wanted just handed over to him like it was easy.
He'd been left with Lucifer, the head of house and, okay, he'd been a bit worried at being left with someone named after the devil but he seemed to genuinely be a nice guy. He'd helped Sam unpack, which made Sam extra happy that he'd hidden the gun and knife his dad had left him on his person, the gun tucked snugly into the small of his back, the knife in his boot. He'd shown him his study, the dining room, the freshman common room. Talked him through his time table and promised him that after lunch he'd take him on a campus tour, and then left him to settle in.
The first thing he'd done once he was alone was hide the gun and the knife. He had to be careful; under the mattress was no good because cleaners came in, and likewise for his drawers. In the end he pried a floor board up in the back of an airing cupboard he found on the top floor and hid them there. He wished he could just dump them, leave them behind entirely, but he knew if he did that then his dad would go mad at him.
When he got back to the dorm he had company. The other boys introduced themselves as Chuck and Ash and dragged him down to meet matron, a kind looking red head with tortoise shell glasses who showed him what to do with his laundry and how the tuck shop worked before returning him to Chuck and Ash who took him out with them to play a game of soccer on the close until lunch.
He loved it here.
~*~*~*~
The only good side, as far as Dean could see, was that he got his own room. Sure, as the last to join he had the smallest room, but it was his. He'd never had his own room before. Never had a bed of his own, and it was strange and terrible and the best thing ever all at once.
The rest was just bad.
Miss Lees had left him with Michael, the head of house. He was kind of a self-righteous dick and Dean had more or less hated him on sight. Okay, maybe he'd antagonized the guy, but when he'd started with a lecture on the grand and noble heritage of the school and how it was the role of every student to uphold the heritage in every way they could he was going to mock a little.
Michael hadn't seen the funny side of it, instead just launching in to a different lecture on the importance of being on time, accompanied by a color coded timetable and map, and Dean did kind of appreciate that the guy had been to some trouble for him but would have appreciated the gesture more without the undertone of "I've done this for you because you're too stupid to do it for yourself."
He'd left Dean with matron, a woman who looked like she hadn't cracked a smile in the last fifty years. She'd lectured Dean on the importance of cleanliness. How to do everything: when and how to wash, when and how to clean his room.
Idiot.
The place itself wasn't too bad. The campus was big and looked like there were a lot of places he could hide out and, well, there were no girls here and Miss Lees was smoking and all but he got the impression from Sammy's fan-girl face that if he got them thrown out of here he'd never be forgiven so he probably just needed to keep it in his pants.
He took the drawers out of the desk and stashed the weapons in the back of there, figuring nobody would find them. It wasn't a normal place to look anyway.
Took him about half an hour to figure out that his own room was going to be worse them useless. People kept just knocking and opening it. First matron to lecture him about towels, which she'd apparently forgotten the first time. Then some old guy who told Dean he was the house master and Dean was welcome to come to him with any problems (as if) then two guys asking him to play soccer (no) then Michael asking if he'd like a tour of the school (no) then finally a different guy to drag him for lunch when he didn't answer the bell.
He didn't answer to bells. He wasn't a dog. The other boy sent to find him, some other self-righteous snob he didn't catch the name of, didn't think that was an excuse.
In the dining hall the snob directed him to some food, rabbit food and no other options because apparently it was ALWAYS 'pasta bar' for Sunday lunch, then sat him down with a group of other boys of the same age who seemed to mostly want to discuss their golf lessons, which they were all apparently going off to after lunch.
Dean had never played golf in his life and had no intention of starting now, so he ignored them. He scanned the room instead. It was mostley the same kind of people. Idiots who thought they were something because daddy had bought an expensive school place for them. Shouting and gesturing and showing of their watches to each other like it meant something worthwhile about you if you had a posh watch.
There was only one kid who didn't seem to be taking part in the 'I'm better then you' Olympics, some weird scrawny thing who was sat talking to the house master so probably a swat. None of them looked like they knew how to have a good time at all.
He was so screwed.
~*~*~*~
Michael was a bastard and Dean hated him. It hadn't taken Dean long to come to this opinion. The other boy had finally approached him, well after he should have, about the campus tour. Dean had been kind of inclined to turn the pompous ass down. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to know the layout of the damn place and certainly didn't need to be condescended to by some guy who thought he was the next thing to god just because someone had left him in charge of the playground.
But, like it or not, the facts of it were that he was stuck here for now. He couldn't do anything about that and he'd promised Dad he'd give it a try. All he wanted to do was go hunting, but that would only be possible when he proved to dad that he could take order and, for now, proving he could take orders meant staying here and making nice. So Dean said yes.
The campus was boring, but Dean played at least a little attention and put at least a little effort into remembering where things are. All of the buildings were named after 'old boys' of the school so none of the building names corresponded to what they were used for or where they were or anything useful and through it all Michael droned on about the grand and glorious history of the school and how they all had responsibilities as pupils of the school and as future old boys to fulfill their potential and their destiny and become gentlemen that the school would be proud of.
Dean didn't tell him that he never had any intention of being someone the school would be proud of. Michael was mostly talking to himself anyway so it wasn't like it mattered.
Michael had apparently decided to save the 'best' for last and he finished them of in the 'Hill center' which was, apparently, posh idiot school talk for the library.
Dean could imagine Sam's face as he walked in to this place, and for a minute he felt horribly lost. It was a long time to be apart when, before this, they'd been joined at the hip. He'd never been this long without seeing or hearing from Sammy before, and that was wrong. Winchesters stuck together. If they didn't then what did they have left?
Dean made the appropriate noises as they walked round. Being able to trick someone into thinking you're interested or you care was an important part of the job after all. Got to talk to witnesses. Win their trust, be their friends. Michael seemed encouraged by Dean's new diligence and stopped paying as much attention to if Dean was listening or not and, when a group of preppy looking idiots in sports kit called out to Michael and he headed over to chat to them, Dean slipped away undetected.
He remembered vaguely where they'd dropped Sam of. It was a big campus but Dean had a good memory for directions, helped on a hunt. He'd have to remember to point that out to Dad next time they had the 'you're not hunting' argument.
He headed back in that direction. He'd go see Sammy now. He'd given the kid time to settle in, he'd probably be desperate to see his big brother by now. Probably be missing Dean as much as Dean was missing him. Probably be as sick of this place as Dean was. They could phone dad together and beg with him to let them go home, go back to hunting.
Down here, between these two buildings and on to the main pathway, then right and...
Dean walked around the corner and almost walked straight into another boy. He healed out his hand to steady himself and ended up gripping the boy on the shoulder. The other boy looked up at Dean and he didn't say anything. He just kept stared and, sure, Dean could be distracted by how weird that was for about five seconds, by the fact this boy had the bluest eyes and if this was a chick behind those baby blue's he'd totally be trying to bang her, but it soon got pretty damn awkward and even when Dean gave in and broke eye contact first he looked back up to find the other boy still staring at him.
"Erm, sorry about that," he said, stepping back, but the boy followed him.
"Who are you?" he asked. "I don't know you."
"I'm Dean," Dean replied, jutting his chin out. "What's it to you?"
"I like to know people," the boy said, and he smiled a little as if that was a special secret he'd decided to share just between the two of them. "I'm Castiel."
"Nice for you," Dean said, raising an eyebrow. Damn weird name, but it was a rich kid school. Rich people name their kids all sort of weird shit. "I've got to go. Going to go visit my brother."
"Who's your brother?" the weird kid asked, tilting his head.
"None of your business," Dean snapped. He moved to step past the weird kid but was followed, those eyes never leaving his, though his expression had fallen a little now and Dean felt almost as though he'd kicked a god damn puppy for fun, not told a weird kid no.
"It just looks like you're heading for Franklin house," the kid said in the most dejected tone of voice. "I just thought I'd tell you that it isn't visiting there right now, they won't let you in. If you want to see your brother you'll have to phone for him to come out and visit you, that would probably be best."
"What kind of stupid system is that?" Dean asked, throwing his hands up in disgust. "Why can't I just go knock?"
"Not allowed," the kid said, and again he looked so damn sad about it. Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to punch the kid of pat him on the head and tell him it was going to be okay. Though mostly punching him seemed the best response.
"Fine," Dean snapped. "I'll go phone him, just get the hell out of my way.
The kid stepped aside, a satisfied smile replacing the sad look on his face. Dean stormed past, pulling his phone out of his bag and firing of a text for Sam to come see him. Damn weird rich kids, he hoped that the rest of the school had better social skills then that guy or he was going to be in trouble.
~*~*~*~
Dean knew he was wrong about Sammy being ready to go home the second he saw the other boy. Sammy was practically bursting with excitement, he couldn't even sit down next to Dean. He kept bouncing up to gesture and pace while he talked. You'd think someone had shown him heaven, not just some posh rich kid school.
Dean tried to smile and be enthusiastic for his baby brother but his heart wasn't in it. He knew the way this would go now. Sammy loved it here; Dean couldn't spoil that for him. He got himself thrown out; they'd probably throw Sammy out too. Dean couldn't do that, not when Sammy was looking happier and more enthusiastic then Dean had seen him in a long time.
He was staying at posh school.
~*~*~*~
Classes were boring as hell. Dean wasn't just saying that because he didn't want to be here and he didn't see any point in learning this rubbish when he was just going to be a hunter, though none of that helped. They were genuinely just boring. He'd never taken being lectured too well and that's what they seemed to do here. He'd been 'excused' from studying Latin as he'd never seen it before in his life but they apparently expected a high level of performance from all their pupils, and Dean was starting to suspect he'd never graduate from here.
There were some ok things, though. They'd put him in kind of the idiot class. Only it was posh kid school so it wasn't really an idiot class, more a slightly less stupidly intelligent class. He was doing a few classes with the year below him to catch him up, and in one of those classes was Gabriel.
Gabriel was, Dean knew, a bit of a douche. The classes they put him in tended to be half kids who earnestly wanted to do well but were a bit thick and half kids who didn't want to work. Gabriel was the latter. It took Dean about five seconds to work him out as the class clown. He acted it anyway. Class idiot. Dean's first introduction to him had been in an English lesson where he'd asked questions all lesson containing song lyrics. It had been pretty funny, especially when the teacher didn't get it. Dean had made a point of talking to him after the class and, like that, he had an ally against the stupidity that was this school.
It wasn't like they were best friends or anything. He didn't do friends, they only slowed you down. Family was what was important, but Sammy was busy these days coming top in his classes and getting excited about things like the little nerd he was and Gabriel was a funny guy to pass the time with.
They'd hang out and plot pranks. Gabriel was a big joker, even called himself the trickster which Dean thought was kind of tacky though some of the other kids in the school called him that too with kind of awed looks on their faces. They didn't talk about feelings or cricket or whatever the hell else the other idiots in this school talking about, and it was good.
Gabriel was also full of stories about the school. The good stories, not the bad ones. Gabriel knew that Ms Whitechurch had almost been fired last year for being drunk in lessons and that Mr Jones had an affair with the science technician. He knew a host of stories about old pupils and Dean guessed at least half of them were made up on the spot but half of the fun was trying to work out what was true and what was a lie and, honestly, they were all funny stories so he didn’t care.
But he missed the hunting. He missed the rush, the thrill. He missed his dad. Dad had left them before, gone off to do something too dangerous for them to be involved, but Dean still missed him. Anything could be happening to him and there wouldn't be anyone there to have his back. He missed Sammy too, which was even more annoying as Sammy was here with him, he was just always busy. Dean would call him and he'd be in the library or he'd be playing soccer or he'd be having catch-up sessions or something. It was sickening. Bad enough that this school was so strict that he couldn’t just go out and see Sammy any time he wanted because of visiting hours and designated study time and stupid things like that.
This school was horrible anyway, but it was making him lose his family and that, he couldn't accept that. He needed a distraction, needed a case. Again, it was Gabriel who came through for him.
He came up to Dean in the corridor before maths one afternoon, sloping against the wall with a mischievous grin.
"Hey Dean," he said, "Heard a story today I thought you might like."
"Go on," Dean said, grinning his lazy grin. Gabriel's stories were usually good for a laugh if nothing else.
"Well, I heard this of some Roosevelt boys, so it must be true. You like supernatural shit, right? Apparently, the school is haunted."
"Yeah yeah," Dean said with a lazy shrug. He should have known it was a mistake to let Gabriel catch him reading that book of lore. "This and every other building on the planet."
"See, that's what I thought," Gabriel said with a shrug, "But the thing was, this story, it kind of made sense of something else I heard. I mean, not the ghost bit. Did I ever tell you about Malcolm Green?"
"One of your old boy stories?"
"Bit more suspicious then that. He was murdered on campus, about 90 years ago. Found naked in the woods, someone...well...let's just say it probably wouldn’t have been very pretty. One of the teachers was suspect, of course, but they never found anything to link him to it. I knew all that. The best bit? The teacher apparently became convinced that the ghost of the kid was following him. That's what I learnt from these boys anyway. He started to freak out, run out of the classroom swearing the kid was there watching him. Then, one day he was just...dead. In his classroom. Funny thing, he was killed in exactly the way that kid was killed."
"Sure," Dean said with a shrug. Gabriel was probably lying.
"Yeah. See, the other thing. Apparently he'd been seen again. Recently. In the science building, which is where the teacher died. What do you think of that?"
"Someone been seeing ghosts on campus and you only just heard about it?" Dean quipped. "Not very likely."
"Hey, my networks are impressive but even I make mistakes sometimes, okay. And it's not exactly the kind of thing I'd be looking for, just thought you might like it."
Dean would have said something more but while Gabriel had been talking the teacher had turned up and they were obliged to move in to class for another exciting instalment on whatever the hell it was they were covering at the moment.
~*~*~*~
When Sam rounded the corner on the top corridor and found Gabriel knelt by the door to Uriel's room he froze. He knew about Gabriel, of course, but only by reputation. Lucifer had gone to lengths to point the other boy out to him during those first few days, making it clear that Gabriel was trouble and if Sam knew what was best for him he'd avoid the other boy. Sam had taken that mostly to heart. After all, he didn't know Gabriel and the last thing he wanted here was trouble.
He'd also heard stories about Gabriel. It didn't take long for him to establish that the guy was almost a legend in this school for his pranks. It had made Sam vaguely reminiscent for Dean and prank wars carried out in the back seat of the impala whenever dad wasn't looking. But as much as he might enjoy a good prank, he needed to stay in this school.
Gabriel grinned at Sam and gave him a small wave, as if there was nothing unusual about being caught in this position.
"Hey, new kid," he whispered. "Don't think we've been introduced, I'm Gabriel. Who are you?"
"Sam," Sam said, taking a step closer. "What are you doing?"
"Probably better that you don't know," Gabriel said with a little shrug. "In fact, probably better that you're not seen up here at all, you know."
"Erm, sure," Sam said, glancing behind him to see if anyone had followed him up the stairs, but he was alone. He knew that was his cue to slip away but, oddly, he didn't want to. Rather, he kind of wanted to come nearer. To get a better look at what Gabriel was doing. He took a small step forward. "But...are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. Let's just say that Uriel's only getting what he deserves and leave it at that, alright kid?"
"Sure," Sam replied, giving him a small smile. Uriel was a bit of a bully, Sam had been trying to avoid him mostly but he'd seen him pushing around one of the other students at lunch yesterday when the teacher wasn't looking. If Gabriel wanted to spread a bit of justice then that was okay by him. "I just...I'll get out of your way."
"Good idea," Gabriel replied with an easy grin, and Sam turned, slipping back down the stairs and taking himself off to the common room. Half an hour later the entire house erupted into chaos as Uriel found that SOMEHOW, SOMEONE had managed to cover his bed in shaving foam. At lunch the next day one of the teachers came to sit near Sam and dropped the incident in conversation. They'd all been told to come forward if they knew anything, of course, but when the teacher asked if anyone knew anything or had seen anything she directed her gaze at him. For a second he thought it meant they were blaming him but, no, if they had any evidence then someone would have said something. That meant they had no real evidence it was Gabriel either. He could hand the other boy in...or he could not...
He smiled his sweetest smile and told the teacher he hadn't seen anything. On the way out of the room after lunch Gabriel squeezed his shoulder in a friendly way.
~*~*~*~
On top of all the stupid academic shit, the school made him take a sport. Dean wasn't opposed to the idea of sport on principle but he was opposed to the idea of him being forced to do sport. Especially more than once a week, and when it was proceeded by a preppy talk about how hard work would increase his confidence and concentration, which was complete bullshit. He also hated that he was automatically put in the last team, under the presumption that he could move up as he got better.
That proved to be harder then he'd thought it might be. He didn't want to do team sport but if he had to do it, he didn't want to be in the group with the fat kids and the kids with dodgy legs and the kids who smoked when nobody was looking so tended to cough up a lung every time they ran. He did his best, but while he was healthy he wasn't exactly a team player. Still, after only a few weeks he got moved up to the next to last team.
Some promotion.
He was already pissed off when he went in for practice. Sammy had texted him that morning with some bullshit excuse about work for why they couldn't meet up that afternoon, and seriously he was starting to think his little brother didn't WANT to spend time with him. Lessons had been ridiculous as usual; he didn't even share anything with Gabe on a Tuesday so he'd been alone in his misery and now sport.
Mr Evans had grinned at him like Dean should consider it a fucking achievement to be in the 'slightly less losers' camp. It wasn't an achievement though, not at all.
Didn't help that he'd got the timings wrong so he was late to practice and the coach almost immediately benched him once he was changed so he'd gone through all that and now he was sat here on this stupid bench with the stupid weird kid who'd gotten in his way when he'd gone to see Sammy on the first week, about the last person Dean wanted to see when he'd just been blocked from seeing his brother again.
The kid kept sending him weird looks, and it was kind of pissing Dean of. And, okay, Dean was spoiling for a fight anyway but it wasn't like it would be unprovoked if he punished the kid who'd been giving him funny looks all practice.
"Hey," the kid said, shifting a little closer, and Dean had to clench his hand around the bench to stop himself just taking a swing. "Did you get to see your brother?"
"Fuck of," Dean snapped, and the stupid kid looked so offended, like Dean had punched his puppy and not just sworn at him.
"I just wanted to help," the kids says, and Dean kind of wants to kick him because, seriously, is this kid an idiot. It's not like he's giving out welcoming vibes here, but the kid keeps talking even when any idiot could work out he's not welcome.
"Shut the hell up," Dean snapped. "I don't want to talk to you."
For a second he thought the idiot was going to be stupid enough to say something else but he seemed to think better of it, giving Dean a long look and shifting away. Thankfully, the coach called for Dean pretty quickly and he managed to get off the bench and leave the weird guy behind.
~*~*~*~
The next time Dean saw the guy it was two days later and he was hanging out with Gabriel. Sam had blown him off to spend time with library buddies again and Dean was too unimpressed for words so when he'd come across Gabe leaning against a wall and looking vaguely dissatisfied with the world, Dean had joined him. Gabriel has just nodded at him and launched in to a commentary about the people who walked past, which was always damn interesting.
He spotted the kid from a way of, and the kid must have spotted then too because he paused for a second, looking from Dean to Gabriel as if he was sizing them up, measuring how much of a threat they were. He took a long look down the other path and then visibly pulled himself together and started walking toward them.
And, ok, for a second Dean was kind of guilty. He didn't want to talk to the kid of be his friend or anything but at the same time he didn't want the kid to be scared of him. He'd been a bit pissy the other day but he wasn't exactly the kind of person who liked people being scared of him. That was kind of fucked up. But if he tried to do anything to make it up he'd end up having to make friends or something ridiculous like that and he definitely didn't want that. He wasn't that sorry.
Luckily, at that moment Gabriel looked up and spotted the guy, and a look that was almost malevolent crossed his face.
"Hey, hey Castiel" he yelled, waving. Castiel rapidly lost the confidence he'd been walking with, the head dropping and his shoulders hunching. Dean frowned; maybe it wasn't him the kid was scared of after all. "How you doing, kid! Get yourself over here."
Castiel kept his head down, though it was clearly too late to hide. Gabriel stepped forward and intercepted him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him towards Dean and tugging the book out of his hand.
"Don't," Castiel said, desperate. Gabriel wasn't listening though, dropping the notebook on the floor and stomping on it.
"Oh, sorry Cassy," he said, and his tone was nastier then Dean had ever heard him use before. "Look what happened. And we were being such good pals.
"I wasn't doing anything to you," the kid said, and he sounded more confused than anything, looking down at his book which Gabriel had somehow managed to tear as well as cover in dirt.
"And I didn't do anything to you, Cassy. We're just having a chat like model students, right. We should all get on and be friends at this school, right? Here, let me pick up the book you dropped." He leant over, intentionally kicking the book as he did, sending it flying towards Dean then giving Dean a grin as if he expected him to join in. the kid just looked lost, and Dean knew he could be a shit sometimes but he wasn't that much of a shit.
He leant over and picked the book up, dusted it of briefly with his hand and stepped forward to hand it to the kid, bypassing Gabriel's attempt to grab it back. The kid looked at him with such a ridiculously grateful expression; you'd think Dean had just slain a dragon for him, not handed over a notebook.
"Get out of here," he said, knocking Gabe's hand of the kid's shoulder. Gabriel glared at the kid ran. Dean kind of wondered why he hadn't just run in the first place, though maybe Gabriel would have just followed. This was apparently a side of his friend he'd never seen before.
"What the hell was that?" he asked as soon as the kid was out of earshot, Gabriel shrugged and looked a little embarrassed now he'd been called on his behaviour.
"Don't know, doesn't he just piss you of though? There's just something about that kid, makes me angry to look at him. Like, there's something about his face that makes me just want to punch him. Like he thinks he's better than the rest of us, and he never fights back or anything."
"'Course he doesn't," Dean snapped. "I mean, yeah, he's kind of weird but he was obviously scared of you. You like, that? People being scared of you?"
"No," Gabriel snapped. "I'm a trickster, not a bully."
"Dude, that wasn't a trick and it wasn't even a bit funny. I thought you were cool,"
Gabriel kind of gaped at him and Dean did the only thing he could do, he turned and walked away.
~*~*~*~
Sam couldn't sleep. Lights out had been an hour ago and the dorm was quiet. The chatter of goodnights that immediately followed lights of had died down but it wasn't yet long enough that Gregory had started snoring in his sleep or Carl had started up that weird snuffling noise he made. In theory it was the perfect time to drift off, but somehow Sam couldn't manage it. He missed the sound of Dean across the motel room from him. He didn't know why, it was weeks and he hadn't missed it before, but something about today had reminded him of it. Somehow he was homesick, homesick for cheap motel mattresses and the sound of cars outside, peppered with the occasional drunken shout and Dean in bed across the room, tossing and turning in his sleep.
He wasn't meant to get out of bed. The theory was he lay there until he fell asleep, but it was just creeping past eleven which meant Matron would probably be in bed already, and everyone would be in their dorms. Surely nobody would mind if he went down to the kitchen for some water?
He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could. Nobody said anything as he padded across the floor, so he guessed he was okay. The hallway was similarly deserted, though he heard music coming from Ash's door as he crept past the junior rooms. It was oddly comforting, he knew juniors and seniors didn't have lights out like the younger years, it was good to see proof of life though. Living with his dad and Dean, bedtime was a much more haphazard affair and while he did agree that having a set time to go to bed was probably good for him, it still felt odd and it was nice to see proof of people living outside the hours set by the school.
The staircase was deserted, the lights turned out, but Sam knew where things were, and he was used to walking around in the dark. It was a little creepy, though. The entire place had been built to look like one of those old English institutions, and while it looked kind of grand in the day, at night it was just kind of creepy.
He made it to the bottom of the stairs without breaking a leg, and then turned the corner to the kitchen. The door was closed but there was a faint glow along the bottom of it that told him the light was on. Matron would NEVER go to bed and leave the light on, that meant someone else was probably in there.
He nearly doubled back and went straight back to bed. He wasn't meant to be up, after all, and really the glass of water had just been an idea of something he might like, not something he desperately needed.
But he wasn't the kind to back down. There might not be anyone in there, after all. Maybe Ash was using the room then went back to bed, leaving the light on? Maybe he was worrying about nothing.
He crept forward, glad that his bare feet didn't make a sound on the plush carpet. As he drew closer he heard singing from inside the room and paused. For a second he held his breath, then it occurred to him that only one boy in the house would be up at this time in the kitchen singing a song as rude as that. He reached forward and opened the door.
Gabriel was stood at the counter breaking a bar of chocolate into pieces. A pan set on the stove beside him and a carton of milk was open on the counter top. He looked up when Sam entered, smiled, and then went back to whatever he was doing.
"Hey, Sammy boy," he said, his voice low and quiet. "What's a good boy like you doing up so late?"
"Don't call me that," Sam groused, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind him. "Only Dean gets to call me Sammy."
"If I get Dean to say in writing that I can call you Sammy, can I do it then?" Gabriel asked, reaching up and opening the cupboard they kept cups in. He paused a second, studying them, and took out one of the bright green monstrosities that made Sam wince they were so loud.
"Not even then," Sam said, crossing his arms. He liked that he had a couple of inches on Gabriel, even though the other boy was older than him. Somehow, in his head, it made them more evenly matched. He was really looking forward to the day he was taller than Dean.
"Guess it was a long shot," Gabriel replied with a sigh. "So, back to the point, why exactly are you up? Matron not tuck you into bed properly?"
"Shut up," Sam said. Then, a little quieter, "I just...I couldn't sleep tonight."
Gabriel stopped when he was doing and looked at Sam, really looked at him. Sam shifted under the gaze, a little uncomfortable with being studied so intently. Then Gabriel smiled, turned purposefully and extracted another cup from the cupboard, one of the nice, nondescript white ones this time.
"Well, you're in luck," he said, "As it turns out, I'm just making some of my world famous hot chocolate and I've got enough supplies to make some for you too, want some?"
"Yes please," Sam replied quickly. He'd already heard legends about Gabriel's hot chocolate, he was glad for the chance to try it out himself.
"Awesome," Gabriel replied, grabbing the milk and filling both mugs then tipping them into the saucepan, dumping the broken up chocolate in after them. Sam inched closer, watching as Gabriel worked. He stirred the milk, and Sam found himself watching in interest as the chocolate started to melt, brown swirls rising to the top of the water.
"Anything in particular keeping you up?" Gabriel asked, but his tone was casual, not pushing. It was an invitation, not a demand, and Sam suddenly found himself wanting to share.
"I just miss my brother," he said, sliding down to sit on the floor next to the stove. "He's just...Dean's always been there for me. Always. Things have been, well, not perfect would be a way to describe my home life. But Dean's always been with me though everything. I'm not used to him not being around to protect me."
"What do you need protecting from?" Gabriel asked, and there was a note of worry in his voice.
"Nothing really," Sam reassured the other man. "Just...everything's a little bit more intense than I thought it would be. I feel like I haven't seen him in weeks and I want to tell him everything that's been happening."
"Yeah, it's like that around here if you let it be, and you seem like the kind of kid who'd let the place run your life. Let me guess, joined every club?"
"Just track and debate and science..." Sam said, defensively.
"And football," Gabriel reminded him with a smirk.
"We have to do that," Sam shot back, "It hardly counts."
"I know," Gabriel said, his grin softening. "Look, maybe you need to sort out a time with your brother when you skype with him just to say hi? Maybe for the last ten minutes of evening study?"
"We're meant to be working then," Sam said with a glare that startled a laugh out of Gabriel.
"Well, yeah, but nobody's gonna worry too much about ten minutes and it sounds like you need it. If I had a little brother like you I'd make time for him so I'm sure Dean won't worry."
"You're an only child, right?" Sam asked, and Gabriel winced.
"Yeah. Probably better that way, but I don't like talking about it. Come on, stand up, I'll show you the secret of the best hot chocolate ever."
Sam shuffled obediently to his feet and watched as Gabriel tipped a little vanilla essence into the mix before filling the mugs, then topping them off with a layer of marshmallows and a squirt of spray cream on top of that.
"See," he said, "The cream traps the heat so the mallows heat up quicker."
"I think this is going to give me diabetes," Sam commented, but he took his mug anyway and say back down on the floor. After a few seconds, Gabriel sat down beside him.
"Hey, Sammy," he said, fiddling with his mug. "I know I'm not Dean but if you want to talk about your day or something, I'm here."
"Thanks," Sam replied. He took a second to think about it, but it seemed like a good idea. He knew Gabriel was a good listener, for all he preferred to talk, and he already knew that despite his ability to get in to trouble he was very intelligent. "So, I have Mr. Grant for French and I think he hates me..."
~*~*~*~
When the cups were washed and put away Sam felt a lot better. Gabriel had listened and nodded and even offered some helpful advice, which was more than Dean ever did. As they crept up to the bottom of the stairs he turned to smile at Gabriel.
"Thanks for listening," he whispered. Gabriel just grinned back.
"Any time," he replied, reaching over to scuff Sam's hair. They crept back upstairs together and Sam was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
~*~*~*~
It took Dean about an hour to get bored with his new status as having fallen out with Gabriel. He wasn't so much of a pushover that he'd go crawling back after only an hour, though. He had a point to make; he didn't hang out with bastards and if Gabriel was going to be a bastard then Dean wouldn't hang out with him.
He spent a while pestering Sammy to come hang out, or at least to go work in the library so Dean could hang out with him, but Sammy was apparently far too busy to see his older brother right now, doing important studying things. He'd ended up heading back to his house and letting them collar him in to a game of soccer in the back yard just for lack of anything better to do. The other guys in his house were kind of losers but at least he was talking to them all at the moment.
Most of the next day got swallowed by lessons and sport like usual but the afternoon found him with an hour free before dinner, Sam still eaten by his group project and nothing else in particular going for him.
He went to the library just on the off chance Sam was there and avoiding him, but he wasn't. The library did, however, remind him of hunting. It reminded him of long hours spent with his dad looking for just this bit of information that would make a case fall open. That had always been Sammy's thing really, he wasn't patient enough to pick through all the bullshit, but he'd been known to do the job when he was desperate. He wondered who was helping dad out with research right now. He hadn't even had as much as a phone call since they'd been left and, yeah, dad didn't tend to phone when he was on a hunt now they were both pretty much grown up but it would be nice to know he wasn't forgotten.
He was getting kind of sick of it, really. Seemed family was everything to Winchesters until it was easier to be without them, then it was optional.
He'd have given up then and gone back to house to mooch around the common room for the rest of the time until lunch if the clipping hadn't been out on the bench, and the nostalgia fresh in his mind. A teacher found dead in his room, the same story Gabriel had told him. And the thing was out, which meant either Gabriel had told the legend to someone else or it had come up in some other way. Maybe there was a case here; he could really use a good case.
In the end, he spent the rest of the break in the library fact checking. He may not be as good at it as Sam but he could still do it and if there was a case here, he would find it.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5
Author: Signe_chan
Fandom/Genre: High School AU
Pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 43,765
Warnings:
Artist:
Art link: Coming soon
Summary:
Dean doesn't want to go to a stupid boarding school. Sam loves the stupid boarding school.
"Having your adolescence at an all-male boarding school is just crap."
Benedict Cumberbatch
Ronald Smith was a quiet man. He had two dogs, a small house which he shared with his wife and her jigsaw collection and on the weekend he enjoyed fishing. He was also a school guidance counselor. The job was one he'd fallen into. He'd been happy working at the factory, but they'd not been happy with him working there and his sister in law had been teaching at West Planes high at the time. She's talked him up, he'd got the job, and he'd found his calling.
While Ronald had liked the factory he found that he loved the school. His room was a trove of information on colleges and scholarships and he took time for each of his students. Most were easy of course. They had a dream; he just needed to look through his alphabetic files for the answer for them. Some were harder and sometimes a case landed on his desk that demanded his full attention.
He began to hear good reports about Sam Winchester about a week after the boys had moved to the school. When prompted, teachers gave him similar but more exasperated stories about Dean. Two smart kids but their lives were in chaos. They were always tired in class; they'd be experts on one thing but never have heard of some basic principles.
Of course Ronald had met the boy's father when he enrolled them,and Mr Winchester had explained that his work kept them moving. Sam and Dean had never had stability and their education was suffering for it.
This was exactly the kind of case he was here to help with and, as always, he had a solution.
~*~*~*~
Dean wasn't sure how they'd gotten here, exactly. He'd been trying in this school since dad had yelled at him about the last school. Ok, so sneaking in to the chem. lab to have sex with the head cheerleader might have been an idiot move, he could agree with that in retrospect. What he didn't get was why his dad cared. It wasn't like Dean was going anywhere with this. It wasn't like he was smart or anything. When the hell was he going to need this stuff anyway? They all knew what he was going to do. The family business. It wasn't like he needed to graduate high school, the ghosts weren't gonna stop him and ask for his GED before they let themselves be exorcised.
Still, when he'd been called in to the school the last time his dad had gone ballistic at Dean, shouting and screaming about wasting time and causing fuss and how Dean needed to just keep his head down a little longer and work on this. About how Dean was a disappointment.
And, ok, he hate when his dad yelled at him like that. Hated being the disappointment. So he'd tried this time, he had. He hadn't fucked anyone. Well, this one girl, but she'd been the one to start it and they'd been discrete. He'd gone to nearly all his classes and he'd even tried to do some work. It was just stupid and infuriating but it was only one year then he could do what he was meant to. Something that would really made a difference.
When they came back from school one day and found dad waiting for them after a phone call from the school Dean knew shit was going to hit the fan. John was furious, wouldn't listen to a word they said, and stormed out for the night. The worst thing was he genuinely hadn't done anything this time.
Sammy had been quiet too, since apparently the phone call had been about him too - can you come in to school tomorrow to talk about your sons? He hadn't got the same yelling at that Dean had, just a disappointed "I expected better of you son", and what the hell. Did he not expect better of Dean? Or was Dean already failed away under eternal disappointment?
The next day dad turned up at lunch as asked. He hadn't gotten in the night before until three but had managed to scrape the stubble of his face, at least. Sammy looked like he wanted to bolt out the door, not go to the principal’s office, and Dean wondered if, for once, Sam had been the one to do something. But no, his little brother would never do anything like that. He was the brains of this operation.
The guidance counselor was waiting for them and ushered them in with a big grin and Dean hated him a little. If they'd done something bad enough to get called in to have a meeting then why was the guy grinning? Idiot.
"I'm so glad you could come," he said, sitting down in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. Dean stared at him incredulously; you'd think this was a tea party, not a dressing down.
"Yeah, what did Dean do this time?" his dad asked, and Dean flinched because he HADN'T. Not this time.
"Done?" the guidance counselor asked, and he had the nerve to look confused. "Well, he's not 'done' anything. I'm sorry; did you think he was in trouble?"
"Normally is," his dad said with a growl, and Dean wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.
"Oh no," the guidance counselor said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He's not in any trouble, unless there's something I don't know." He said that with a conspiratorial wink aimed at Dean and Dean flinched because, yeah, not like they were friends here or anything. He didn't like that familiarity.
"So, why did you call me in?" his dad asked, looking even more annoyed, "I'm a busy man!"
"I just wanted to talk to you about Sam and Dean's prospects," the guy said, smiling.
"Their prospects?" his dad asked, and Dean snorted. Surely they all knew their prospects. He and Sam were going to hunt things, with their dad, until they met a fight they couldn't win. Then they'd die and that would be it.
"Yes," the guidance counselor said, that infuriating grin not leaving his face. "I'm sure you're aware that you have two exceptionally intelligent sons here. Sam's teachers made that clear to me almost straight away and it took a little longer to filter through with Dean as he refuses to engage but when he does work, his work is of an exceptional standard."
"Bullshit," Dean snapped, forgetting himself for a second and getting a smack on the side of his head from his dad for his troubles. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing at his head. "I just, I'm nothing special."
"Of course you are," the guidance counselor said with some kind of manic grin. "Your problem, the problem with both your sons actually, Mr Winchester, is the fragmented nature of their education. I know you move for work but it means that the boys have missed a lot of material and repeated other sections over and over. It's disadvantaging them, Mr Winchester."
"I agree," John said, tightening his jaw. "I want them both to graduate, but what do you suggest I do. Work means I've gotta move and I can hardly leave them home alone."
"Actually, I have a solution," the guy says, beaming like he just unearthed a pot of gold or something. He reaches in to a drawer and pulls out a booklet, placing it purposefully in the middle of the table. Dean's dad lean over and snatched it, leafing through it quickly.
"No way we can afford this, sorry," he said, throwing it quickly back down again.
"You wouldn’t have to," the guidance counselor replied. "They run a scholarship program in conjunction with local schools in deprived areas, this one included. They take in boys who show talent and would benefit from a boarding environment and I've already spoken to them about Sam and Dean, they agree that they fit the profile."
"What is it?" Dean asked, reaching forward and snatching the booklet then almost immediately throwing it back. "Oh, no way. I am NOT going to some stupid boarding school."
"A boarding school," Sam said, eyes immediately lighting up. He reached forward and grabbed the book himself, leafing through it with eyes wide.
"Yes, and a very good one," the guidance counselor said, smiling benevolently. "They know this is an emergency case so could make room, providing you were willing, as soon as next week. Full ride scholarships. They may want Dean to enter a year below where he is now, to make up for the gaps in his knowledge, but they are an outstanding school and we've seen excellent results from them before. In such a highly academic atmosphere I'm sure Dean will have no problem catching up."
"We'll have to think about this," his dad said, but something in his tone made Dean realize he meant that. He was considering this and that wasn't fair.
"No way," he spat. "I'm not going."
"We'll talk about it," is dad said again, no room for argument in his tone, and Dean knew he'd lost already.
~*~*~*~
"I'm not going to stay here," Dean informed his dad, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is so stupid. I've got no business being here. Sam, ok, kid's smart. But not me. And you need me!"
"Don't flatter yourself, kid," his dad snapped, clearly no more swayed by the argument now they were pulling in to the school then he had been over the last week. "I hunted for years without your help, I can do it again."
"You shouldn't have to," Dean replied. "I should have your back. It's what I'm going to end up doing, after all. What the hell is the point of any of this?"
"You're getting an education," his dad growled. "I'm not arguing with you about this, Dean. It's happening. They're letting you get away with not going down a year, just be thankful of that."
"Damn right they are," Dean muttered. It was bad enough he was going to have to be here a year, two was unthinkable. They'd sent a pack with vouchers for uniforms and a 'guide to life at St. Michael's school' when they'd been enrolled, and Dean hadn't been able to bring himself to read more than a page of the thing, though Sam had read it cover to cover about ten times.
"Stop being such an idiot, Dean. This is great," Sam said, and it made sense that he was happy about it. All this learning, great place some someone with a brain in their head like Sammy. But Dean, he had no place here. He reason to be here.
"Shut up," he snapped back, but Sam just carried on grinning.
Luckily, before Sam could launch into another of his explanations about why this was going to be the best thing ever they pulled up to the reception. A woman was waiting for them, young and pretty and Dean guessed this was going to be it for things to look at for a while. He couldn’t believe that of all things he was being sent to an all-boys boarding school.
"Hello," she said, looking pleased and surprised though Dean was sure they must look a mess. "I'm Miss Lees, welcome to St Michael's. I take it you're John, Dean and Sam."
"Yes," John said, and he looked about as comfortable as Dean felt. Miss Lees smiled in a way that was almost aggressively friendly, holding out her hand first for John, then Sam, then Dean.
"It's so nice to meet you," she said. "We have dorm rooms ready for you, I'll take your round, and I've assigned each of you an older student to show you around the place and make sure you're feeling at home. You'll each have a tutor, obviously. I'll be your tutor, Sam. I'll stop by tonight after C.O. to make sure you're settling in. Dean, your tutor will be Mr. James, he'll do the same for you?"
"What's C.O.?" Dean asked, still scowling. He didn't like this woman or this place and he sure as hell wasn't going to let her chirpy attitude draw him in.
"Oh, goodness, did you not read the pack about the school day? C.O. is registration, really. We take it at breakfast and then again at nine, after study. Quiet study if from seven to nine every night and you need to be in your room and working. I'm sure you'll get the hang of things quickly; your student mentor in house will have a copy of your full timetable for you. No, let's get your bags and get you settled in. Sam, you're going to be in Franklin house. Dean, you're in Lincoln."
"Hey, wait," Dean said, folding his arms over his chest. "Are you telling me that Sam and I aren't in the same house?"
She blinked at him, and then smiled softly, as though they were friends and she was trying to comfort him.
"I'm sorry," she said, touching his arm. "I know you'd like to be with your brother but you've joined us late, we need to fit you in where we can. Don't worry; you'll still have plenty of time to see each other."
"No way," Dean said, pulling back. He could cope with a lot of things, but not this. Sammy was his brother; he couldn't leave him behind here. Anything could happen to him.
"Doesn’t be an idiot, Dean," Sam said, looking at Dean like this didn't bother him. Like he didn't care that Dean wouldn't even be there if he needed him. "I'll see you all the time."
Miss Lees beamed at him as if Sam had just cured cancer or something, and Dean glared at the both of them, but by the time he was done glaring his Dad had pulled open the trunk and thrown their bags out.
"I've not got time for this, Dean," he said, as though Dean was being a problem again. "Come on and get your bag. Let's get you settled then I need to get back on the road."
And it was that tone, the one you didn't argue with. Dean didn't argue, what would be the point, he'd lost again already. He wasn't going to hunt, his dad was going to go out there and do this without him. He wasn't going to get to look after Sammy; someone else would be doing that. Some surrogate dorm big brother. What the hell was the point in anything anymore?
He hated it here.
~*~*~*~
Sam loved it here.
He had known he would from the minute he first opened the booklet Mr Smith had given them. The campus was beautiful, and it was normal. He was going to have a bed of his own and, ok, it would be in a dorm so it wouldn't be his own room but next year he'd have a room of his own and he had his own study.
Miss Lees had dropped him off and taken dad and Dean on and, okay, he was sad to see Dad go but this was his chance! His chance to have friends and to be normal and happy,. Everything he'd ever wanted just handed over to him like it was easy.
He'd been left with Lucifer, the head of house and, okay, he'd been a bit worried at being left with someone named after the devil but he seemed to genuinely be a nice guy. He'd helped Sam unpack, which made Sam extra happy that he'd hidden the gun and knife his dad had left him on his person, the gun tucked snugly into the small of his back, the knife in his boot. He'd shown him his study, the dining room, the freshman common room. Talked him through his time table and promised him that after lunch he'd take him on a campus tour, and then left him to settle in.
The first thing he'd done once he was alone was hide the gun and the knife. He had to be careful; under the mattress was no good because cleaners came in, and likewise for his drawers. In the end he pried a floor board up in the back of an airing cupboard he found on the top floor and hid them there. He wished he could just dump them, leave them behind entirely, but he knew if he did that then his dad would go mad at him.
When he got back to the dorm he had company. The other boys introduced themselves as Chuck and Ash and dragged him down to meet matron, a kind looking red head with tortoise shell glasses who showed him what to do with his laundry and how the tuck shop worked before returning him to Chuck and Ash who took him out with them to play a game of soccer on the close until lunch.
He loved it here.
~*~*~*~
The only good side, as far as Dean could see, was that he got his own room. Sure, as the last to join he had the smallest room, but it was his. He'd never had his own room before. Never had a bed of his own, and it was strange and terrible and the best thing ever all at once.
The rest was just bad.
Miss Lees had left him with Michael, the head of house. He was kind of a self-righteous dick and Dean had more or less hated him on sight. Okay, maybe he'd antagonized the guy, but when he'd started with a lecture on the grand and noble heritage of the school and how it was the role of every student to uphold the heritage in every way they could he was going to mock a little.
Michael hadn't seen the funny side of it, instead just launching in to a different lecture on the importance of being on time, accompanied by a color coded timetable and map, and Dean did kind of appreciate that the guy had been to some trouble for him but would have appreciated the gesture more without the undertone of "I've done this for you because you're too stupid to do it for yourself."
He'd left Dean with matron, a woman who looked like she hadn't cracked a smile in the last fifty years. She'd lectured Dean on the importance of cleanliness. How to do everything: when and how to wash, when and how to clean his room.
Idiot.
The place itself wasn't too bad. The campus was big and looked like there were a lot of places he could hide out and, well, there were no girls here and Miss Lees was smoking and all but he got the impression from Sammy's fan-girl face that if he got them thrown out of here he'd never be forgiven so he probably just needed to keep it in his pants.
He took the drawers out of the desk and stashed the weapons in the back of there, figuring nobody would find them. It wasn't a normal place to look anyway.
Took him about half an hour to figure out that his own room was going to be worse them useless. People kept just knocking and opening it. First matron to lecture him about towels, which she'd apparently forgotten the first time. Then some old guy who told Dean he was the house master and Dean was welcome to come to him with any problems (as if) then two guys asking him to play soccer (no) then Michael asking if he'd like a tour of the school (no) then finally a different guy to drag him for lunch when he didn't answer the bell.
He didn't answer to bells. He wasn't a dog. The other boy sent to find him, some other self-righteous snob he didn't catch the name of, didn't think that was an excuse.
In the dining hall the snob directed him to some food, rabbit food and no other options because apparently it was ALWAYS 'pasta bar' for Sunday lunch, then sat him down with a group of other boys of the same age who seemed to mostly want to discuss their golf lessons, which they were all apparently going off to after lunch.
Dean had never played golf in his life and had no intention of starting now, so he ignored them. He scanned the room instead. It was mostley the same kind of people. Idiots who thought they were something because daddy had bought an expensive school place for them. Shouting and gesturing and showing of their watches to each other like it meant something worthwhile about you if you had a posh watch.
There was only one kid who didn't seem to be taking part in the 'I'm better then you' Olympics, some weird scrawny thing who was sat talking to the house master so probably a swat. None of them looked like they knew how to have a good time at all.
He was so screwed.
~*~*~*~
Michael was a bastard and Dean hated him. It hadn't taken Dean long to come to this opinion. The other boy had finally approached him, well after he should have, about the campus tour. Dean had been kind of inclined to turn the pompous ass down. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to know the layout of the damn place and certainly didn't need to be condescended to by some guy who thought he was the next thing to god just because someone had left him in charge of the playground.
But, like it or not, the facts of it were that he was stuck here for now. He couldn't do anything about that and he'd promised Dad he'd give it a try. All he wanted to do was go hunting, but that would only be possible when he proved to dad that he could take order and, for now, proving he could take orders meant staying here and making nice. So Dean said yes.
The campus was boring, but Dean played at least a little attention and put at least a little effort into remembering where things are. All of the buildings were named after 'old boys' of the school so none of the building names corresponded to what they were used for or where they were or anything useful and through it all Michael droned on about the grand and glorious history of the school and how they all had responsibilities as pupils of the school and as future old boys to fulfill their potential and their destiny and become gentlemen that the school would be proud of.
Dean didn't tell him that he never had any intention of being someone the school would be proud of. Michael was mostly talking to himself anyway so it wasn't like it mattered.
Michael had apparently decided to save the 'best' for last and he finished them of in the 'Hill center' which was, apparently, posh idiot school talk for the library.
Dean could imagine Sam's face as he walked in to this place, and for a minute he felt horribly lost. It was a long time to be apart when, before this, they'd been joined at the hip. He'd never been this long without seeing or hearing from Sammy before, and that was wrong. Winchesters stuck together. If they didn't then what did they have left?
Dean made the appropriate noises as they walked round. Being able to trick someone into thinking you're interested or you care was an important part of the job after all. Got to talk to witnesses. Win their trust, be their friends. Michael seemed encouraged by Dean's new diligence and stopped paying as much attention to if Dean was listening or not and, when a group of preppy looking idiots in sports kit called out to Michael and he headed over to chat to them, Dean slipped away undetected.
He remembered vaguely where they'd dropped Sam of. It was a big campus but Dean had a good memory for directions, helped on a hunt. He'd have to remember to point that out to Dad next time they had the 'you're not hunting' argument.
He headed back in that direction. He'd go see Sammy now. He'd given the kid time to settle in, he'd probably be desperate to see his big brother by now. Probably be missing Dean as much as Dean was missing him. Probably be as sick of this place as Dean was. They could phone dad together and beg with him to let them go home, go back to hunting.
Down here, between these two buildings and on to the main pathway, then right and...
Dean walked around the corner and almost walked straight into another boy. He healed out his hand to steady himself and ended up gripping the boy on the shoulder. The other boy looked up at Dean and he didn't say anything. He just kept stared and, sure, Dean could be distracted by how weird that was for about five seconds, by the fact this boy had the bluest eyes and if this was a chick behind those baby blue's he'd totally be trying to bang her, but it soon got pretty damn awkward and even when Dean gave in and broke eye contact first he looked back up to find the other boy still staring at him.
"Erm, sorry about that," he said, stepping back, but the boy followed him.
"Who are you?" he asked. "I don't know you."
"I'm Dean," Dean replied, jutting his chin out. "What's it to you?"
"I like to know people," the boy said, and he smiled a little as if that was a special secret he'd decided to share just between the two of them. "I'm Castiel."
"Nice for you," Dean said, raising an eyebrow. Damn weird name, but it was a rich kid school. Rich people name their kids all sort of weird shit. "I've got to go. Going to go visit my brother."
"Who's your brother?" the weird kid asked, tilting his head.
"None of your business," Dean snapped. He moved to step past the weird kid but was followed, those eyes never leaving his, though his expression had fallen a little now and Dean felt almost as though he'd kicked a god damn puppy for fun, not told a weird kid no.
"It just looks like you're heading for Franklin house," the kid said in the most dejected tone of voice. "I just thought I'd tell you that it isn't visiting there right now, they won't let you in. If you want to see your brother you'll have to phone for him to come out and visit you, that would probably be best."
"What kind of stupid system is that?" Dean asked, throwing his hands up in disgust. "Why can't I just go knock?"
"Not allowed," the kid said, and again he looked so damn sad about it. Dean wasn't sure if he wanted to punch the kid of pat him on the head and tell him it was going to be okay. Though mostly punching him seemed the best response.
"Fine," Dean snapped. "I'll go phone him, just get the hell out of my way.
The kid stepped aside, a satisfied smile replacing the sad look on his face. Dean stormed past, pulling his phone out of his bag and firing of a text for Sam to come see him. Damn weird rich kids, he hoped that the rest of the school had better social skills then that guy or he was going to be in trouble.
~*~*~*~
Dean knew he was wrong about Sammy being ready to go home the second he saw the other boy. Sammy was practically bursting with excitement, he couldn't even sit down next to Dean. He kept bouncing up to gesture and pace while he talked. You'd think someone had shown him heaven, not just some posh rich kid school.
Dean tried to smile and be enthusiastic for his baby brother but his heart wasn't in it. He knew the way this would go now. Sammy loved it here; Dean couldn't spoil that for him. He got himself thrown out; they'd probably throw Sammy out too. Dean couldn't do that, not when Sammy was looking happier and more enthusiastic then Dean had seen him in a long time.
He was staying at posh school.
~*~*~*~
Classes were boring as hell. Dean wasn't just saying that because he didn't want to be here and he didn't see any point in learning this rubbish when he was just going to be a hunter, though none of that helped. They were genuinely just boring. He'd never taken being lectured too well and that's what they seemed to do here. He'd been 'excused' from studying Latin as he'd never seen it before in his life but they apparently expected a high level of performance from all their pupils, and Dean was starting to suspect he'd never graduate from here.
There were some ok things, though. They'd put him in kind of the idiot class. Only it was posh kid school so it wasn't really an idiot class, more a slightly less stupidly intelligent class. He was doing a few classes with the year below him to catch him up, and in one of those classes was Gabriel.
Gabriel was, Dean knew, a bit of a douche. The classes they put him in tended to be half kids who earnestly wanted to do well but were a bit thick and half kids who didn't want to work. Gabriel was the latter. It took Dean about five seconds to work him out as the class clown. He acted it anyway. Class idiot. Dean's first introduction to him had been in an English lesson where he'd asked questions all lesson containing song lyrics. It had been pretty funny, especially when the teacher didn't get it. Dean had made a point of talking to him after the class and, like that, he had an ally against the stupidity that was this school.
It wasn't like they were best friends or anything. He didn't do friends, they only slowed you down. Family was what was important, but Sammy was busy these days coming top in his classes and getting excited about things like the little nerd he was and Gabriel was a funny guy to pass the time with.
They'd hang out and plot pranks. Gabriel was a big joker, even called himself the trickster which Dean thought was kind of tacky though some of the other kids in the school called him that too with kind of awed looks on their faces. They didn't talk about feelings or cricket or whatever the hell else the other idiots in this school talking about, and it was good.
Gabriel was also full of stories about the school. The good stories, not the bad ones. Gabriel knew that Ms Whitechurch had almost been fired last year for being drunk in lessons and that Mr Jones had an affair with the science technician. He knew a host of stories about old pupils and Dean guessed at least half of them were made up on the spot but half of the fun was trying to work out what was true and what was a lie and, honestly, they were all funny stories so he didn’t care.
But he missed the hunting. He missed the rush, the thrill. He missed his dad. Dad had left them before, gone off to do something too dangerous for them to be involved, but Dean still missed him. Anything could be happening to him and there wouldn't be anyone there to have his back. He missed Sammy too, which was even more annoying as Sammy was here with him, he was just always busy. Dean would call him and he'd be in the library or he'd be playing soccer or he'd be having catch-up sessions or something. It was sickening. Bad enough that this school was so strict that he couldn’t just go out and see Sammy any time he wanted because of visiting hours and designated study time and stupid things like that.
This school was horrible anyway, but it was making him lose his family and that, he couldn't accept that. He needed a distraction, needed a case. Again, it was Gabriel who came through for him.
He came up to Dean in the corridor before maths one afternoon, sloping against the wall with a mischievous grin.
"Hey Dean," he said, "Heard a story today I thought you might like."
"Go on," Dean said, grinning his lazy grin. Gabriel's stories were usually good for a laugh if nothing else.
"Well, I heard this of some Roosevelt boys, so it must be true. You like supernatural shit, right? Apparently, the school is haunted."
"Yeah yeah," Dean said with a lazy shrug. He should have known it was a mistake to let Gabriel catch him reading that book of lore. "This and every other building on the planet."
"See, that's what I thought," Gabriel said with a shrug, "But the thing was, this story, it kind of made sense of something else I heard. I mean, not the ghost bit. Did I ever tell you about Malcolm Green?"
"One of your old boy stories?"
"Bit more suspicious then that. He was murdered on campus, about 90 years ago. Found naked in the woods, someone...well...let's just say it probably wouldn’t have been very pretty. One of the teachers was suspect, of course, but they never found anything to link him to it. I knew all that. The best bit? The teacher apparently became convinced that the ghost of the kid was following him. That's what I learnt from these boys anyway. He started to freak out, run out of the classroom swearing the kid was there watching him. Then, one day he was just...dead. In his classroom. Funny thing, he was killed in exactly the way that kid was killed."
"Sure," Dean said with a shrug. Gabriel was probably lying.
"Yeah. See, the other thing. Apparently he'd been seen again. Recently. In the science building, which is where the teacher died. What do you think of that?"
"Someone been seeing ghosts on campus and you only just heard about it?" Dean quipped. "Not very likely."
"Hey, my networks are impressive but even I make mistakes sometimes, okay. And it's not exactly the kind of thing I'd be looking for, just thought you might like it."
Dean would have said something more but while Gabriel had been talking the teacher had turned up and they were obliged to move in to class for another exciting instalment on whatever the hell it was they were covering at the moment.
~*~*~*~
When Sam rounded the corner on the top corridor and found Gabriel knelt by the door to Uriel's room he froze. He knew about Gabriel, of course, but only by reputation. Lucifer had gone to lengths to point the other boy out to him during those first few days, making it clear that Gabriel was trouble and if Sam knew what was best for him he'd avoid the other boy. Sam had taken that mostly to heart. After all, he didn't know Gabriel and the last thing he wanted here was trouble.
He'd also heard stories about Gabriel. It didn't take long for him to establish that the guy was almost a legend in this school for his pranks. It had made Sam vaguely reminiscent for Dean and prank wars carried out in the back seat of the impala whenever dad wasn't looking. But as much as he might enjoy a good prank, he needed to stay in this school.
Gabriel grinned at Sam and gave him a small wave, as if there was nothing unusual about being caught in this position.
"Hey, new kid," he whispered. "Don't think we've been introduced, I'm Gabriel. Who are you?"
"Sam," Sam said, taking a step closer. "What are you doing?"
"Probably better that you don't know," Gabriel said with a little shrug. "In fact, probably better that you're not seen up here at all, you know."
"Erm, sure," Sam said, glancing behind him to see if anyone had followed him up the stairs, but he was alone. He knew that was his cue to slip away but, oddly, he didn't want to. Rather, he kind of wanted to come nearer. To get a better look at what Gabriel was doing. He took a small step forward. "But...are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. Let's just say that Uriel's only getting what he deserves and leave it at that, alright kid?"
"Sure," Sam replied, giving him a small smile. Uriel was a bit of a bully, Sam had been trying to avoid him mostly but he'd seen him pushing around one of the other students at lunch yesterday when the teacher wasn't looking. If Gabriel wanted to spread a bit of justice then that was okay by him. "I just...I'll get out of your way."
"Good idea," Gabriel replied with an easy grin, and Sam turned, slipping back down the stairs and taking himself off to the common room. Half an hour later the entire house erupted into chaos as Uriel found that SOMEHOW, SOMEONE had managed to cover his bed in shaving foam. At lunch the next day one of the teachers came to sit near Sam and dropped the incident in conversation. They'd all been told to come forward if they knew anything, of course, but when the teacher asked if anyone knew anything or had seen anything she directed her gaze at him. For a second he thought it meant they were blaming him but, no, if they had any evidence then someone would have said something. That meant they had no real evidence it was Gabriel either. He could hand the other boy in...or he could not...
He smiled his sweetest smile and told the teacher he hadn't seen anything. On the way out of the room after lunch Gabriel squeezed his shoulder in a friendly way.
~*~*~*~
On top of all the stupid academic shit, the school made him take a sport. Dean wasn't opposed to the idea of sport on principle but he was opposed to the idea of him being forced to do sport. Especially more than once a week, and when it was proceeded by a preppy talk about how hard work would increase his confidence and concentration, which was complete bullshit. He also hated that he was automatically put in the last team, under the presumption that he could move up as he got better.
That proved to be harder then he'd thought it might be. He didn't want to do team sport but if he had to do it, he didn't want to be in the group with the fat kids and the kids with dodgy legs and the kids who smoked when nobody was looking so tended to cough up a lung every time they ran. He did his best, but while he was healthy he wasn't exactly a team player. Still, after only a few weeks he got moved up to the next to last team.
Some promotion.
He was already pissed off when he went in for practice. Sammy had texted him that morning with some bullshit excuse about work for why they couldn't meet up that afternoon, and seriously he was starting to think his little brother didn't WANT to spend time with him. Lessons had been ridiculous as usual; he didn't even share anything with Gabe on a Tuesday so he'd been alone in his misery and now sport.
Mr Evans had grinned at him like Dean should consider it a fucking achievement to be in the 'slightly less losers' camp. It wasn't an achievement though, not at all.
Didn't help that he'd got the timings wrong so he was late to practice and the coach almost immediately benched him once he was changed so he'd gone through all that and now he was sat here on this stupid bench with the stupid weird kid who'd gotten in his way when he'd gone to see Sammy on the first week, about the last person Dean wanted to see when he'd just been blocked from seeing his brother again.
The kid kept sending him weird looks, and it was kind of pissing Dean of. And, okay, Dean was spoiling for a fight anyway but it wasn't like it would be unprovoked if he punished the kid who'd been giving him funny looks all practice.
"Hey," the kid said, shifting a little closer, and Dean had to clench his hand around the bench to stop himself just taking a swing. "Did you get to see your brother?"
"Fuck of," Dean snapped, and the stupid kid looked so offended, like Dean had punched his puppy and not just sworn at him.
"I just wanted to help," the kids says, and Dean kind of wants to kick him because, seriously, is this kid an idiot. It's not like he's giving out welcoming vibes here, but the kid keeps talking even when any idiot could work out he's not welcome.
"Shut the hell up," Dean snapped. "I don't want to talk to you."
For a second he thought the idiot was going to be stupid enough to say something else but he seemed to think better of it, giving Dean a long look and shifting away. Thankfully, the coach called for Dean pretty quickly and he managed to get off the bench and leave the weird guy behind.
~*~*~*~
The next time Dean saw the guy it was two days later and he was hanging out with Gabriel. Sam had blown him off to spend time with library buddies again and Dean was too unimpressed for words so when he'd come across Gabe leaning against a wall and looking vaguely dissatisfied with the world, Dean had joined him. Gabriel has just nodded at him and launched in to a commentary about the people who walked past, which was always damn interesting.
He spotted the kid from a way of, and the kid must have spotted then too because he paused for a second, looking from Dean to Gabriel as if he was sizing them up, measuring how much of a threat they were. He took a long look down the other path and then visibly pulled himself together and started walking toward them.
And, ok, for a second Dean was kind of guilty. He didn't want to talk to the kid of be his friend or anything but at the same time he didn't want the kid to be scared of him. He'd been a bit pissy the other day but he wasn't exactly the kind of person who liked people being scared of him. That was kind of fucked up. But if he tried to do anything to make it up he'd end up having to make friends or something ridiculous like that and he definitely didn't want that. He wasn't that sorry.
Luckily, at that moment Gabriel looked up and spotted the guy, and a look that was almost malevolent crossed his face.
"Hey, hey Castiel" he yelled, waving. Castiel rapidly lost the confidence he'd been walking with, the head dropping and his shoulders hunching. Dean frowned; maybe it wasn't him the kid was scared of after all. "How you doing, kid! Get yourself over here."
Castiel kept his head down, though it was clearly too late to hide. Gabriel stepped forward and intercepted him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him towards Dean and tugging the book out of his hand.
"Don't," Castiel said, desperate. Gabriel wasn't listening though, dropping the notebook on the floor and stomping on it.
"Oh, sorry Cassy," he said, and his tone was nastier then Dean had ever heard him use before. "Look what happened. And we were being such good pals.
"I wasn't doing anything to you," the kid said, and he sounded more confused than anything, looking down at his book which Gabriel had somehow managed to tear as well as cover in dirt.
"And I didn't do anything to you, Cassy. We're just having a chat like model students, right. We should all get on and be friends at this school, right? Here, let me pick up the book you dropped." He leant over, intentionally kicking the book as he did, sending it flying towards Dean then giving Dean a grin as if he expected him to join in. the kid just looked lost, and Dean knew he could be a shit sometimes but he wasn't that much of a shit.
He leant over and picked the book up, dusted it of briefly with his hand and stepped forward to hand it to the kid, bypassing Gabriel's attempt to grab it back. The kid looked at him with such a ridiculously grateful expression; you'd think Dean had just slain a dragon for him, not handed over a notebook.
"Get out of here," he said, knocking Gabe's hand of the kid's shoulder. Gabriel glared at the kid ran. Dean kind of wondered why he hadn't just run in the first place, though maybe Gabriel would have just followed. This was apparently a side of his friend he'd never seen before.
"What the hell was that?" he asked as soon as the kid was out of earshot, Gabriel shrugged and looked a little embarrassed now he'd been called on his behaviour.
"Don't know, doesn't he just piss you of though? There's just something about that kid, makes me angry to look at him. Like, there's something about his face that makes me just want to punch him. Like he thinks he's better than the rest of us, and he never fights back or anything."
"'Course he doesn't," Dean snapped. "I mean, yeah, he's kind of weird but he was obviously scared of you. You like, that? People being scared of you?"
"No," Gabriel snapped. "I'm a trickster, not a bully."
"Dude, that wasn't a trick and it wasn't even a bit funny. I thought you were cool,"
Gabriel kind of gaped at him and Dean did the only thing he could do, he turned and walked away.
~*~*~*~
Sam couldn't sleep. Lights out had been an hour ago and the dorm was quiet. The chatter of goodnights that immediately followed lights of had died down but it wasn't yet long enough that Gregory had started snoring in his sleep or Carl had started up that weird snuffling noise he made. In theory it was the perfect time to drift off, but somehow Sam couldn't manage it. He missed the sound of Dean across the motel room from him. He didn't know why, it was weeks and he hadn't missed it before, but something about today had reminded him of it. Somehow he was homesick, homesick for cheap motel mattresses and the sound of cars outside, peppered with the occasional drunken shout and Dean in bed across the room, tossing and turning in his sleep.
He wasn't meant to get out of bed. The theory was he lay there until he fell asleep, but it was just creeping past eleven which meant Matron would probably be in bed already, and everyone would be in their dorms. Surely nobody would mind if he went down to the kitchen for some water?
He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could. Nobody said anything as he padded across the floor, so he guessed he was okay. The hallway was similarly deserted, though he heard music coming from Ash's door as he crept past the junior rooms. It was oddly comforting, he knew juniors and seniors didn't have lights out like the younger years, it was good to see proof of life though. Living with his dad and Dean, bedtime was a much more haphazard affair and while he did agree that having a set time to go to bed was probably good for him, it still felt odd and it was nice to see proof of people living outside the hours set by the school.
The staircase was deserted, the lights turned out, but Sam knew where things were, and he was used to walking around in the dark. It was a little creepy, though. The entire place had been built to look like one of those old English institutions, and while it looked kind of grand in the day, at night it was just kind of creepy.
He made it to the bottom of the stairs without breaking a leg, and then turned the corner to the kitchen. The door was closed but there was a faint glow along the bottom of it that told him the light was on. Matron would NEVER go to bed and leave the light on, that meant someone else was probably in there.
He nearly doubled back and went straight back to bed. He wasn't meant to be up, after all, and really the glass of water had just been an idea of something he might like, not something he desperately needed.
But he wasn't the kind to back down. There might not be anyone in there, after all. Maybe Ash was using the room then went back to bed, leaving the light on? Maybe he was worrying about nothing.
He crept forward, glad that his bare feet didn't make a sound on the plush carpet. As he drew closer he heard singing from inside the room and paused. For a second he held his breath, then it occurred to him that only one boy in the house would be up at this time in the kitchen singing a song as rude as that. He reached forward and opened the door.
Gabriel was stood at the counter breaking a bar of chocolate into pieces. A pan set on the stove beside him and a carton of milk was open on the counter top. He looked up when Sam entered, smiled, and then went back to whatever he was doing.
"Hey, Sammy boy," he said, his voice low and quiet. "What's a good boy like you doing up so late?"
"Don't call me that," Sam groused, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind him. "Only Dean gets to call me Sammy."
"If I get Dean to say in writing that I can call you Sammy, can I do it then?" Gabriel asked, reaching up and opening the cupboard they kept cups in. He paused a second, studying them, and took out one of the bright green monstrosities that made Sam wince they were so loud.
"Not even then," Sam said, crossing his arms. He liked that he had a couple of inches on Gabriel, even though the other boy was older than him. Somehow, in his head, it made them more evenly matched. He was really looking forward to the day he was taller than Dean.
"Guess it was a long shot," Gabriel replied with a sigh. "So, back to the point, why exactly are you up? Matron not tuck you into bed properly?"
"Shut up," Sam said. Then, a little quieter, "I just...I couldn't sleep tonight."
Gabriel stopped when he was doing and looked at Sam, really looked at him. Sam shifted under the gaze, a little uncomfortable with being studied so intently. Then Gabriel smiled, turned purposefully and extracted another cup from the cupboard, one of the nice, nondescript white ones this time.
"Well, you're in luck," he said, "As it turns out, I'm just making some of my world famous hot chocolate and I've got enough supplies to make some for you too, want some?"
"Yes please," Sam replied quickly. He'd already heard legends about Gabriel's hot chocolate, he was glad for the chance to try it out himself.
"Awesome," Gabriel replied, grabbing the milk and filling both mugs then tipping them into the saucepan, dumping the broken up chocolate in after them. Sam inched closer, watching as Gabriel worked. He stirred the milk, and Sam found himself watching in interest as the chocolate started to melt, brown swirls rising to the top of the water.
"Anything in particular keeping you up?" Gabriel asked, but his tone was casual, not pushing. It was an invitation, not a demand, and Sam suddenly found himself wanting to share.
"I just miss my brother," he said, sliding down to sit on the floor next to the stove. "He's just...Dean's always been there for me. Always. Things have been, well, not perfect would be a way to describe my home life. But Dean's always been with me though everything. I'm not used to him not being around to protect me."
"What do you need protecting from?" Gabriel asked, and there was a note of worry in his voice.
"Nothing really," Sam reassured the other man. "Just...everything's a little bit more intense than I thought it would be. I feel like I haven't seen him in weeks and I want to tell him everything that's been happening."
"Yeah, it's like that around here if you let it be, and you seem like the kind of kid who'd let the place run your life. Let me guess, joined every club?"
"Just track and debate and science..." Sam said, defensively.
"And football," Gabriel reminded him with a smirk.
"We have to do that," Sam shot back, "It hardly counts."
"I know," Gabriel said, his grin softening. "Look, maybe you need to sort out a time with your brother when you skype with him just to say hi? Maybe for the last ten minutes of evening study?"
"We're meant to be working then," Sam said with a glare that startled a laugh out of Gabriel.
"Well, yeah, but nobody's gonna worry too much about ten minutes and it sounds like you need it. If I had a little brother like you I'd make time for him so I'm sure Dean won't worry."
"You're an only child, right?" Sam asked, and Gabriel winced.
"Yeah. Probably better that way, but I don't like talking about it. Come on, stand up, I'll show you the secret of the best hot chocolate ever."
Sam shuffled obediently to his feet and watched as Gabriel tipped a little vanilla essence into the mix before filling the mugs, then topping them off with a layer of marshmallows and a squirt of spray cream on top of that.
"See," he said, "The cream traps the heat so the mallows heat up quicker."
"I think this is going to give me diabetes," Sam commented, but he took his mug anyway and say back down on the floor. After a few seconds, Gabriel sat down beside him.
"Hey, Sammy," he said, fiddling with his mug. "I know I'm not Dean but if you want to talk about your day or something, I'm here."
"Thanks," Sam replied. He took a second to think about it, but it seemed like a good idea. He knew Gabriel was a good listener, for all he preferred to talk, and he already knew that despite his ability to get in to trouble he was very intelligent. "So, I have Mr. Grant for French and I think he hates me..."
~*~*~*~
When the cups were washed and put away Sam felt a lot better. Gabriel had listened and nodded and even offered some helpful advice, which was more than Dean ever did. As they crept up to the bottom of the stairs he turned to smile at Gabriel.
"Thanks for listening," he whispered. Gabriel just grinned back.
"Any time," he replied, reaching over to scuff Sam's hair. They crept back upstairs together and Sam was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.
~*~*~*~
It took Dean about an hour to get bored with his new status as having fallen out with Gabriel. He wasn't so much of a pushover that he'd go crawling back after only an hour, though. He had a point to make; he didn't hang out with bastards and if Gabriel was going to be a bastard then Dean wouldn't hang out with him.
He spent a while pestering Sammy to come hang out, or at least to go work in the library so Dean could hang out with him, but Sammy was apparently far too busy to see his older brother right now, doing important studying things. He'd ended up heading back to his house and letting them collar him in to a game of soccer in the back yard just for lack of anything better to do. The other guys in his house were kind of losers but at least he was talking to them all at the moment.
Most of the next day got swallowed by lessons and sport like usual but the afternoon found him with an hour free before dinner, Sam still eaten by his group project and nothing else in particular going for him.
He went to the library just on the off chance Sam was there and avoiding him, but he wasn't. The library did, however, remind him of hunting. It reminded him of long hours spent with his dad looking for just this bit of information that would make a case fall open. That had always been Sammy's thing really, he wasn't patient enough to pick through all the bullshit, but he'd been known to do the job when he was desperate. He wondered who was helping dad out with research right now. He hadn't even had as much as a phone call since they'd been left and, yeah, dad didn't tend to phone when he was on a hunt now they were both pretty much grown up but it would be nice to know he wasn't forgotten.
He was getting kind of sick of it, really. Seemed family was everything to Winchesters until it was easier to be without them, then it was optional.
He'd have given up then and gone back to house to mooch around the common room for the rest of the time until lunch if the clipping hadn't been out on the bench, and the nostalgia fresh in his mind. A teacher found dead in his room, the same story Gabriel had told him. And the thing was out, which meant either Gabriel had told the legend to someone else or it had come up in some other way. Maybe there was a case here; he could really use a good case.
In the end, he spent the rest of the break in the library fact checking. He may not be as good at it as Sam but he could still do it and if there was a case here, he would find it.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5