The Crossroads: Hunters
Title: The Crossroads
Author: zimothy
Claim: Bridge to Terabithia
Genre: Friendship/Family
Pairing(s): Minor Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 15,700
Warnings: Language, Character Death
Summary: Dean Winchester had a plan in life, ask anyone in his 9th grade class. Though, when the human whirlwind known as Castiel Hatfield comes to town, Dean's entire life suddenly goes off kilter.
A/N:
I wrote this in a day and a half in order to meet the deadline given.
For those of you that actually read this entire fic: I'm sorry, I'm a dick.
Do you know how hard it is to write a death scene whenever your playlist decides that now is a good time to play Journey? and I'm not talking 'don't stop believing', I'm talkin 'Faithfully' and 'Wheels in the Sky'. I'm an emotionless dick and even I got a little teary-eyed.
P.S. I'm not trying something like this again. I'm horrible with kids and am never around them, I don't know what a ten year old really thinks like.
Chapter 1
Dean had a routine. His routine was an every day, unchangeable routine that he'd set up the first day he got on the bus to Harper High School in Lawrence Kansas on August 27th of that year. Dean liked routines, he liked knowing what was going to happen and not making anything about life a mystery. His mother Mary had told him stories about kids who went about doing whatever the hell they wanted, when they wanted. Dean was the perfect son, and therefore would do the opposite.
However, a wrench was easily thrown into his plans mid-September of that same year when he stepped his way onto the bus after school and stared for a moment at some new kid who'd decided to take residence in Dean's seat. Dean glanced at the bus driver, but Mrs. McCreedy just gave him an expectant eyebrow. Dean pursed his lips and started down the walkway, pausing for a moment next to his no-longer-vacant seat before sliding in next to the new boy.
No words were spoken, but the gaze that newbie had been concentrating out the window was suddenly all on Dean, and the freshman was starting to feel nervous about the attention. He glanced up through the corner of his eyes, but the kid was still staring - still looking like he was trying to decide if Dean was a test subject or someone unworthy of his time. Not one to be easily spooked, Dean stared straight out the front of the bus, fingers fiddling with the tear forming in the knee of his jeans.
The bus settled and pulled out of the school parking lot, but Dean swore he could still feel the kid staring him down.
Jo Harvelle, who sat next to him in his Math class and the seat in front of him on the bus, turned around with a pair of glasses in her hand. "Hey Dean." She greeted, holding up the objects and showing Dean that the lens had been popped out at some time.
Dean reached forward to take them.
"Raphael shoved Ellie into the lockers and the lens came out when her glasses fell off. Can you fix them?"
Dean grinned, looking at her as if she'd asked the silliest question ever. "Doesn't look too hard." He said, staring down at his new project. It was easy to pop a pair of lenses back in, but it was still a delicate operation when you didn't have a miniature screwdriver handy. He tried to get the screw out with his fingernail, biting the tip of his tongue in concentration. A set of fingers came into his line of sight and Dean looked up to see the new kid holding a hand out.
"May I?" His voice was low - too low for his body - and rumbled through Dean's skin. Startled, Dean said nothing, staring back at the kid's creepily bright blue eyes. The new boy didn't seem affected, and gingerly took the glasses from Dean's grasp. In his other hand, he'd pulled out a miniature glasses kit. Dean stared at it and then at the kid while he quickly fixed the lens, and then moved on to tighten the nosepieces and hinges.
The boy reached up to hand the glasses back to Jo, who quickly gave them over to their owner. The blonde girl shoved them on her face with a smile, crinkling her nose to test the grips.
"Contrary to popular belief, spectacles are among many common household items that do not receive their required upkeep, and they often fall into disrepair." Said the new boy, his voice low and soft.
Ellie and Jo looked at each other and then back again, smiling at the new kid. Dean didn't really notice, he was too busy still staring at the one person who'd usurped him of his only established duty - to fix things that were broken.
Dean's staring went mostly unnoticed, and the new kid held out a bony and slender hand to the freshman. "Castiel Hatfield. I am fourteen years young and my family and I just recently moved here from Miami, Florida." Dean numbly shook the kid's hand, though it was more of a grip and drop than anything. Castiel's fingers were chilly, but given that he was wearing a beige trench coat (how had he gotten that past administration?), Dean doubted the kid was all that cold.
Dean didn't tear his gaze from Castiel right away, trying to think of something, anything to say to the one kid who'd pretty much kicked his daily routine in the metaphorical nutsack.
"Did you just recite half of the dictionary to me?" He blurted, eyes wide. Castiel seemed taken aback for a minute, but he smiled softly with a slow tilt of his head.
"No, but I can, if you want. I haven't gotten past 'e' yet, though." He seemed completely honest, and Dean couldn't stop the disbelieving laugh that bubbled up from his chest.
This reaction, surprisingly, seemed to offend Castiel, because he looked relatively miffed and turned to the window. Dean's laugh died down and he leaned forward so Castiel would catch sight of him in his peripheral. "I'm Dean, Dean Winchester. I turned fourteen this year."
Castiel glanced over to Dean, contemplating his words before speaking. "Winchester is a good name. It’s very strong, you should never lose it."
Dean stared at him for a moment, grin faltering. Castiel stared and they both looked away at the same time, Dean murmuring, 'rrrriiiight' beneath his breath. Nothing else was said for the remainder of the bus ride, but Dean was surprised whenever Castiel also stood up upon reaching Dean's stop. They stepped off of the bus together and Castiel did nothing more than to nod at Dean and start heading down the road.
Dean waited, because Sam's Elementary school dropped off in an hour. He sat in the grass, pulling a book out from his backpack and opening it. He'd snatched it from his teacher's shelf in the classroom - she hadn't seemed to notice him grab it. The book itself seemed interesting enough, though there were a lot of words Dean had never really heard of before, and he kept having to reread sentences to make sure he understood what was being said.
Two chapters later, Sam's bus was pulling up and Dean shoved the book into his bag and stood as his little brother hopped off the bus. Sam's face lit up in a grin - though Dean wasn't really sure why. He waited every day for Sam to get out of school and they always walked home together.
"Dean!" Sam cried out in greeting. Dean waved and Sam instantly started babbling to Dean about everything and anything that'd happened at school that day. Dean grinned, listening and responding when necessary until they reached their house nearly a mile down the road. There was no sign of the Impala, which was expected. John usually didn't get home until nearly six during the weekdays. He'd said that was the price that came with being the best mechanic on this side of Kansas.
Sam burst in the front door and instantly there was a toddler screaming in delight as Adam streaked towards him. Dean let the door close to the sounds of Sam and Adam playing, and he went to roll the trash cans to the back of the house and get started on his chores. Once he'd finished with the yard and greenhouse, Dean came inside to the scent of his mother's cooking and the sounds of Sam talking and Adam yelling at the television.
"Hey, sweetheart." Mary called from the kitchen. Dean wandered into the kitchen, setting his backpack down on the table and looking up at his mother with a grin. Sam put his notebook into his backpack and slipped past Dean- most likely to put his things upstairs.
"Hey mom." Dean responded, sitting down and watching her cook for a moment. Mary hummed, swaying around the kitchen in a summer dress - as if outside, fall wasn't settling over them like an icy blanket. He opened his mouth to tell her about Castiel, but stopped at the sound of Sam yelling and Adam's shrieking laughter.
Mary gave Dean a look and he sighed, slipping out from behind the table and into the living room to see Adam chucking another toy car at Sam's head.
"STOP IT!" Sam screamed, arms thrown up over his head. Adam laughed loudly, mimicking Sam's yell and reaching to grab another car. Dean hurried over, picking up the toddler and tossing Adam up onto his shoulder.
"No! NO!" Adam yelled, kicking his legs and nearly nailing Dean in the gut. Dean huffed swinging Adam around his shoulders and then under his arm until Adam's protests turned into startled laughter.
"Come on, monster." Dean grunted, thundering upstairs with Adam underneath his arm. It was nearly four, meaning Adam was most likely overdue for his nap. Adam's laughter turned into protests once more once he realized what Dean was trying to do.
It took nearly an hour to wear Adam down enough for the toddler to fall asleep. Dean returned downstairs to try and get some of his homework done while Sam and Mary talked about their days. Adam was up before the end of the hour, grumpy and tired and clinging to Mary's leg until John walked in the front door at six thirty. Things were chaos for a few moments before everyone settled down around the dinner table.
"How was school, Dean?" Mary asked softly. John grunted in agreement to her question, shoveling potatoes into his mouth and looking at his oldest son. Dean stirred his dinner around before answering it.
"There was a new kid. He got off at this stop. I think he lives around here." Dean said, stuffing a roll into his mouth. "He stares. A lot." He mumbled around his food. Mary waved her spoon around thoughtfully.
"You know, I thought I saw moving trucks here earlier today. Someone must have bought that old fixer-upper down the road." She said, sipping at her sweet tea. John grunted, eating a slice of steak and nodding at his plate.
"Heard about that at the shop today. Some woman and her husband came into town and practically bought nearly an entire house worth of furniture this morning. Must be them." As he spoke, John brought his tea to his lips and took a deep gulp from it, setting the glass down with a clunk. Dean looked between his parents for a moment, but they didn't ask him anything else - still talking to one another in speculation about their new neighbors.
When dinner was done and everyone was washed up, Sam and Adam crawled into Dean's bed with a storybook that Sam had filched from school. Much to Dean's protest about book-reading being for sissies, Adam was still too young to go to bed without rightfully demanding a story beforehand.
The next morning, Castiel was at the bus stop whenever Dean and Sam got there. Sam elbowed Dean in the side as harshly as a 10 year old can, turning to his brother with wide eyes. "Is this the boy you were talking about yesterday? The one who stares?" Sam asked in a stage whisper. Dean shoved Sam's shoulder, glancing up at Castiel and then glaring down at his little brother.
"Shut up, Sammy!" He hissed. His gaze shot up to Castiel to see the other boy hiding a smile. Sam looked sheepish, and apologized softly to Castiel.
"Its okay, I don't mind. My name is Castiel." Castiel said to Sam. Sam grinned brightly, thumbing the straps of his backpack.
"My name's Sam. I'm ten!" Sam said, his chest puffing out proudly. Castiel nodded sagely, adjusting his satchel that was slung over his shoulder.
"That's a very important age." Castiel agreed. Sam opened his mouth to say something else, but it came out as a noise of dismay upon seeing the bus for Dean and Castiel approaching. Dean ruffled his little brother's mop of a head, waved him goodbye, and boarded the bus with Castiel.
Castiel sat down first, and Dean took the space beside him. He opened his mouth, about to apologize honestly on Sam's behalf, but Castiel interrupted him.
"It doesn't bother me," Castiel started slowly, looking away from the window to stare at Dean. "What you think." He elaborated. Dean, mortified, said nothing.
The day passed slowly, only a few things keeping Dean from hating the daily routine of school. His Science class was wasted staring at the back of Lisa Braden's head and wondering if her hair was as soft as it looked, gym class was spent ignoring Raphael's attempts to throw basketballs at the heads of freshmen, lunch break in the weight room to work out until he could barely move, and then blankly stare his way through his last three periods.
Dean's arms felt like noodles by the time he got on the bus after school, so absorbed into his thoughts that he'd temporarily forgotten about Castiel - until now.
"So..." Dean began, slipping into the seat with Castiel. "You sitting in my seat... is this going to be a permanent thing?" He asked -half joking. It didn't bother him THAT much, but it was enough that he couldn't NOT say anything. Castiel seemed startled, and snapped his head from staring out the window to look at Dean.
"My apologies... I was not aware." He confessed softly, gripping his satchel to his stomach. "Would you like me to move?"
"What?" Dean blurted, completely not expecting Castiel to offer Dean's seat back. "Uh no. you can keep it. its fine..." He muttered, voice trailing off as he went to stare out the opposite window across the bus. The bus pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the pothole-ridden main road. Dean glanced back over to Castiel and instantly looked away when he realized that the other boy was staring at him.
Dean waited a few seconds, and looked over at Castiel again, but the older boy had resumed looking out the window. A little unnerved, Dean shifted further down in his seat and resolved to look in the opposite direction of Castiel for the rest of the ride.
The bus dropped them off at the front of the long dirt road that stretched out to both Dean and Castiel's house. Dean took refuge on a patch of grass just beside the road, sitting down and watching for Sam's bus. Castiel seemed to hesitate for a moment, but sat down beside Dean after a moment.
Dean looked up and over at Castiel, unable to think of anything to say other than an unintelligible, "Uhm..."
Castiel trained his squinted eyes on the road, slim fingers clasped together in his lap. "Hunters should stay in pairs." He said lowly, watching for Sam's bus with scrutiny.
"Uhh?" Dean grunted in confusion, twisting his head to stare at the other boy.
"Waiting alone for your brother isn't safe. A rougarou or shapeshifter could kill you and people would be none-the-wiser as to what happened." Castiel muttered, staring down at the dirt road and examining a cluster of pebbles. He reached forward to pick up a pebble, rolling it around in his fingers. Dean tried not to scratch his head in confusion.
"A what-awhat? Shapeshifter?"
Castiel looked up, seemingly pleased at Dean's response. He moved the pebble between his thumb and forefinger, flicking it like a marble and watching it fly into the road.
"Rougarou. They're monsters that were once human, with the face of a beast. They feed on flesh." As he spoke, Castiel seemed to get excited about the subject, expression brightening just the slightest bit. "And shapeshifters are beings without a face of their own, so they kill their victims and steal their lives."
Dean stared for a long time, turning Castiel's words over and over in his head and trying to process them. Castiel shifted uncomfortably under the younger boy's gaze, but then Dean spoke up.
"So... what kills them?"
This seemed to spur Castiel onto a tangent, and suddenly Dean's head was being filled with story upon story of how to kill the beings Castiel had mentioned. It left the boy's mind reeling and he had to hold up a hand to stop Castiel mid-sentence.
"How do you know all this stuff?" He breathed out, feeling exhausted with the sheer amount of information he was processing.
Castiel straightened his back a little, shoulders stiff.
"Knowledge is best obtained through experience, and through the knowledge of others." He responded dutifully.
Dean stared, and Castiel started to fidget again.
"I read a lot of books." The older boy amended, and Dean released a long and understanding 'ohhhhhh', as Sam's school bus came down the road. Dean stood up, acting on instinct and reaching a hand out to help Castiel to his feet. The older boy took his hand dutifully, holding back a smile.
"Thank you, Dean." He said. Dean shrugged off Castiel's words and waited eagerly for Sam to get off the bus. His little brother came bounding down the steps, a smile on his face. Instantly, Dean was gesturing to Castiel.
"Cas told me about these things called shapeshifters. Cas, tell Sam what you told me." Dean grinned, actually excited that he had something worth sharing with his little brother. Castiel seemed unsure, at first, but he caved in at Dean's eager face and began to talk.
It was three in the morning when Sam's terrified scream woke up everyone in the house. Adam was instantly bawling and Sam streaked across the house and into Dean's room, all snot and tears and blathering on about shapeshifters in his room. Dean had a good thirty seconds to try and calm Sam down before John and Mary burst into Dean's room and Sam was pulled into his mother's embrace.
"D-dean told me about sh-shape shifters a-and how they kill people and then pretend to be them and hide their bodies a--and I had a bad dream!" Sam finally blurted, burying his head into Mary's shoulder. John looked livid, turning his gaze to land on his oldest son. Adam's cries echoed from the next room over and John pointed a menacing finger at Dean.
"We're going to have a talk in the morning." He growled, stomping out of the room to calm Adam down. Mary shushed and cooed Sam down from his tearful state, scowling at Dean but saying nothing. She walked out of the room after a moment and shut Dean's door behind herself.
John woke Dean up three hours later and dragged him outside to clean up car parts that littered the barn area. "If you're going to fill Sammy's head with nightmares, you'd better be ready to pay the consequences of waking everyone up." John had said, pointing to the pieces of engine littering the dew-covered grass.
When it was time to leave for the bus, Dean's hands and arms were covered in grease and he didn't have enough time to wash off before taking Sam with him to the bus stop.
Castiel was standing at the edge of the road, staring down the empty asphalt, as if willing the bus to appear. His demeanor instantly changed the second Dean and Sam came walking up, sharing a nod with Dean and smiling at Sam.
Sam, however, slid behind Dean and kept his eyes trained on the ground. This caused Castiel to slowly tilt his head to the side in confusion and Dean shoved Sam out from behind him.
"He had a nightmare about shapeshifters last night." Dean explained, ignoring Sam's look of betrayal that was shot his way. Castiel's eyes went wide and then his look transformed into an expression of seriousness.
"I'm sorry, Samuel. I didn't mean to frighten you." He stepped closer, crouching down to Sam's height and placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "You don't have to worry about any shapeshifters around here, however. Dean and I have already checked the area and it is free of anything evil. You're safe." As Castiel spoke, he shot Dean a look that warned the boy from saying otherwise. Sam looked over at Dean expectantly while Castiel stood back up. Dean shifted uncomfortably and then nodded.
"It’s true. The whole place is all clear, buddy." Dean said. Sam's distressed face became a look of relief. Dean and Castiel's bus drew up and Dean ruffled Sam's hair before boarding. They sat down and Dean instantly started rooting through his backpack.
"I wrote down what you said about shapeshifters." He said to Castiel. Castiel looked surprised, but pleased, and urged Dean to continue. Dean pulled out his homework assignment, flipping it over to show Castiel the barely legible scrawl that went into light detail about rougarou and shapeshifters. Castiel took the paper gingerly and skimmed the words.
"Very good, but a true hunter always records his notes in a journal so that other hunters after him can use it. We'll have to get you a journal." He said. Dean sheepishly took the paper back and stuffed it into his bag.
"Well, I'm not really a hunter so I guess it doesn't matter."
Castiel shook his head. "Hunters are not always born. It’s never too late to become one, you just need to learn. Hunters come from a variety of backgrounds, but they all want the same thing; to protect the weak from evil. You'll be a great hunter one day, Dean."
Dean didn't say a word, leaning back in his seat and staring down at his backpack. Castiel took his silence in stride, instead using it as time to go into more detail about famous hunters. (Dean doubted DaVinci really hunted werewolves in his free time, though.)
Dean spent most of his classes in a stupor, doing the work and going through the motions like he did every day. His mind, however, was stuck on Castiel's voice talking about anything and everything pertaining to the supernatural. The kid was like a hurricane that blew in from who knows where, throwing Dean's mind into chaos with things that he'd never thought about before.
During lunch, Dean slipped away to the weight room - waving to the coach - and spent his time lifting as much weight as he dared. He was tired of being weak, and if the slowly developing muscles on his arm were anything to go by, he wouldn't be weak for very much longer.
When the final bell rang and Dean clambered on the bus, he caught sight of Castiel in his customary seat. This time, however, Dean was more excited than disgruntled to see the dark haired boy occupying that window seat. He slid in next to Castiel with a smile and a cheerful 'Hey Cas!' that seemed to startle the older boy.
"... Cas?" Castiel inquired, brows furrowing in thought. Dean tilted his head to the side and shrugged.
"Castiel's too long; I thought Cas was more fitting." He confessed. Castiel seemed to take this in stride, squinting out the window and then looked back at Dean.
"I like it." He confirmed after a moment. Dean's face split into a grin and he held a fist out. Castiel's gaze slowly fell to Dean's hand and Dean moved the fist up and down a little.
"Brofist, man.... you know.. knuckle-bump?" Dean wouldn't say it out loud, but he'd always wanted a friend that he could bump knuckles with like all the guys on television seemed to do. Castiel held up his own fist slowly, looking at it and then Dean's before slowly bringing his fist forward and pressing his knuckles against Dean's. He did it with such precision - like some sort of bomb could be detonated if their knuckles were to hit at the wrong angle - that Dean burst out laughing.
This startled Castiel into jerking his hand away and Dean shook his head. "No, man, it’s okay. You did it right. Sort of. Just don't be so stiff about it." He chuckled. Castiel pursed his lips and looked down at his fist, fingers uncurling slowly.
When they got off the bus, Cas stayed with Dean to wait for Sammy's bus to show up. As soon as the younger Winchester's feet hit the gravel road, he was running over to the older boys with a grin.
"Does Cas have any more stories today?" He asked - somewhat breathlessly. Dean scowled, holding a hand up and pointing an accusing finger at his little brother.
"The last time Cas told you a story, you went crying to mom and dad 'cause it gave you a nightmare!" He barked. Sam shook his head earnestly, wide brown eyes staring at his older brother imploringly.
"I swear I won't get scared this time!" He pleaded. Dean looked to Castiel and Cas seemed to think for a moment before speaking.
"Have you heard of a lucky rabbit's foot?" Castiel asked Sam. The ten year old scoffed.
"Yeah, duh. Who hasn't?"
Cas shook his head. "But have you heard of the one that was so lucky, it stole everyone's good fortune to stay that way?" He continued. Sam, wide-eyed, shook his head. Castiel turned to head down the dirt path towards their homes.
"Okay, I'll tell you about it, but make sure you listen carefully about how to destroy it. If you were to ever find this rabbit's foot and lost it, you would lose all your good luck as well." While Castiel spoke, Sam and Dean followed the older boy like lost puppies.
The days passed slowly, each one with a new story from Castiel - who seemed to be stuffed to the brim with nothing but information on anything and everything. It was a week before their routine abruptly changed, thanks to one school bully by the name of Raphael.
Dean had been in the weight room whenever Raphael burst in and sneered at the Winchester boy. "What are you doing?" Raphael barked, voice authoritative - for a fourteen year old. Dean slowly set down the curling weights he'd been holding and stared up at Raphael.
"I'm lifting weights, what's it look like?" Dean snapped back. Raphael pushed Dean to the side, taking the curling weights and moving to put them back. Dean made a grab for them and Raphael jerked his hand out of reach.
"Keep your filthy hands off of my things, scum." Raphael growled lowly, staring Dean down like he was the lowest life form on Earth.
Dean growled, anger building up inside of him. Just because Raphael was the son of a preacher and had come from some hoity toity private school, didn't make him any better than anyone else.
"Don't be a dick, Raphael!" He yelled, shoving the older boy back.
Raphael dropped the weights to the ground, his fist swinging before they'd even made a clatter. Dean registered blinding pain in his mouth and cheek. He stumbled back into the weight bench, roaring out in anger and lunging forward to let his fist fly.
Raphael ducked, leg kicking out and hitting Dean in the side of the knee. The Winchester fell to the ground with a cry, unable to stop Raphael from punching him in the face again. His eye started to swell shut immediately, but Dean didn't let it stop him from trying to hit Raphael once more. A hand grabbed his wrist and twisted. Dean yelped, trying to move with the twist and wincing when it did nothing to stop the pain that reverberated down his hand and up his arm.
"S-stop it! That hurts!" Dean cried, instantly feeling shame well up in his gut. Raphael released him, foot flying out and kicking Dean in the stomach. Dean fell to the ground with a groan and Raphael stood over him with a leer.
"Heathen scum should learn their place." He spat, toeing his way past Dean and leaving the room abruptly. Dean sat on the floor of the weight room, clutching his wrist to his stomach and biting down on his split lip to keep from bursting into tears at the pain all over his body.
When his English teacher sent him to the nurse's office after lunch, Dean told her he'd fallen in the weight room and hit his head on a stack of weights. She didn't seem to believe him - a fist shaped bruise on his chin and eye being all but obvious - but didn't pry any further than telling Dean to be more careful with himself. He left the nurse's office with an ice pack in one hand and a wrap around his left wrist.
Dean was quiet when he clambered onto the bus after school. Castiel stared him down with a look of concern, but Dean ignored it. He sat down beside the older boy with a huff, forehead pressing into the back of the seat before him. Nothing was said between the two for the entirety of the bus ride, but Dean felt Castiel's gaze burning into the back of his head like a small fire.
Waiting for Sam's bus was done in silence, Dean refusing to answer any of Castiel's quiet inquiries. Before both Winchester boys left for home, however, Castiel grabbed Dean gently by the elbow and held him back.
"It’s obvious that you were attacked by some sort of monster...." He started. Dean opened his mouth to protest that it was Raphael, not some stupid monster, but Castiel shook his head. "I don't need to know what kind of monster it is; I just would like to ask if you would want to learn how to defend yourself from another attack. The best kind of hunter is one that can fight."
Sam stood a little further down the road, watching the exchange. Dean shifted, tugging his elbow out of Castiel's grasp and looking at the ground to think over Cas's words. He glanced up again, giving Castiel a weak smile.
"Uh... sure, I guess. Are you gonna teach me to fight?"
Dean's answer was a small grin.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue
Author: zimothy
Claim: Bridge to Terabithia
Genre: Friendship/Family
Pairing(s): Minor Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 15,700
Warnings: Language, Character Death
Summary: Dean Winchester had a plan in life, ask anyone in his 9th grade class. Though, when the human whirlwind known as Castiel Hatfield comes to town, Dean's entire life suddenly goes off kilter.
A/N:
I wrote this in a day and a half in order to meet the deadline given.
For those of you that actually read this entire fic: I'm sorry, I'm a dick.
Do you know how hard it is to write a death scene whenever your playlist decides that now is a good time to play Journey? and I'm not talking 'don't stop believing', I'm talkin 'Faithfully' and 'Wheels in the Sky'. I'm an emotionless dick and even I got a little teary-eyed.
P.S. I'm not trying something like this again. I'm horrible with kids and am never around them, I don't know what a ten year old really thinks like.
Chapter 1
Dean had a routine. His routine was an every day, unchangeable routine that he'd set up the first day he got on the bus to Harper High School in Lawrence Kansas on August 27th of that year. Dean liked routines, he liked knowing what was going to happen and not making anything about life a mystery. His mother Mary had told him stories about kids who went about doing whatever the hell they wanted, when they wanted. Dean was the perfect son, and therefore would do the opposite.
However, a wrench was easily thrown into his plans mid-September of that same year when he stepped his way onto the bus after school and stared for a moment at some new kid who'd decided to take residence in Dean's seat. Dean glanced at the bus driver, but Mrs. McCreedy just gave him an expectant eyebrow. Dean pursed his lips and started down the walkway, pausing for a moment next to his no-longer-vacant seat before sliding in next to the new boy.
No words were spoken, but the gaze that newbie had been concentrating out the window was suddenly all on Dean, and the freshman was starting to feel nervous about the attention. He glanced up through the corner of his eyes, but the kid was still staring - still looking like he was trying to decide if Dean was a test subject or someone unworthy of his time. Not one to be easily spooked, Dean stared straight out the front of the bus, fingers fiddling with the tear forming in the knee of his jeans.
The bus settled and pulled out of the school parking lot, but Dean swore he could still feel the kid staring him down.
Jo Harvelle, who sat next to him in his Math class and the seat in front of him on the bus, turned around with a pair of glasses in her hand. "Hey Dean." She greeted, holding up the objects and showing Dean that the lens had been popped out at some time.
Dean reached forward to take them.
"Raphael shoved Ellie into the lockers and the lens came out when her glasses fell off. Can you fix them?"
Dean grinned, looking at her as if she'd asked the silliest question ever. "Doesn't look too hard." He said, staring down at his new project. It was easy to pop a pair of lenses back in, but it was still a delicate operation when you didn't have a miniature screwdriver handy. He tried to get the screw out with his fingernail, biting the tip of his tongue in concentration. A set of fingers came into his line of sight and Dean looked up to see the new kid holding a hand out.
"May I?" His voice was low - too low for his body - and rumbled through Dean's skin. Startled, Dean said nothing, staring back at the kid's creepily bright blue eyes. The new boy didn't seem affected, and gingerly took the glasses from Dean's grasp. In his other hand, he'd pulled out a miniature glasses kit. Dean stared at it and then at the kid while he quickly fixed the lens, and then moved on to tighten the nosepieces and hinges.
The boy reached up to hand the glasses back to Jo, who quickly gave them over to their owner. The blonde girl shoved them on her face with a smile, crinkling her nose to test the grips.
"Contrary to popular belief, spectacles are among many common household items that do not receive their required upkeep, and they often fall into disrepair." Said the new boy, his voice low and soft.
Ellie and Jo looked at each other and then back again, smiling at the new kid. Dean didn't really notice, he was too busy still staring at the one person who'd usurped him of his only established duty - to fix things that were broken.
Dean's staring went mostly unnoticed, and the new kid held out a bony and slender hand to the freshman. "Castiel Hatfield. I am fourteen years young and my family and I just recently moved here from Miami, Florida." Dean numbly shook the kid's hand, though it was more of a grip and drop than anything. Castiel's fingers were chilly, but given that he was wearing a beige trench coat (how had he gotten that past administration?), Dean doubted the kid was all that cold.
Dean didn't tear his gaze from Castiel right away, trying to think of something, anything to say to the one kid who'd pretty much kicked his daily routine in the metaphorical nutsack.
"Did you just recite half of the dictionary to me?" He blurted, eyes wide. Castiel seemed taken aback for a minute, but he smiled softly with a slow tilt of his head.
"No, but I can, if you want. I haven't gotten past 'e' yet, though." He seemed completely honest, and Dean couldn't stop the disbelieving laugh that bubbled up from his chest.
This reaction, surprisingly, seemed to offend Castiel, because he looked relatively miffed and turned to the window. Dean's laugh died down and he leaned forward so Castiel would catch sight of him in his peripheral. "I'm Dean, Dean Winchester. I turned fourteen this year."
Castiel glanced over to Dean, contemplating his words before speaking. "Winchester is a good name. It’s very strong, you should never lose it."
Dean stared at him for a moment, grin faltering. Castiel stared and they both looked away at the same time, Dean murmuring, 'rrrriiiight' beneath his breath. Nothing else was said for the remainder of the bus ride, but Dean was surprised whenever Castiel also stood up upon reaching Dean's stop. They stepped off of the bus together and Castiel did nothing more than to nod at Dean and start heading down the road.
Dean waited, because Sam's Elementary school dropped off in an hour. He sat in the grass, pulling a book out from his backpack and opening it. He'd snatched it from his teacher's shelf in the classroom - she hadn't seemed to notice him grab it. The book itself seemed interesting enough, though there were a lot of words Dean had never really heard of before, and he kept having to reread sentences to make sure he understood what was being said.
Two chapters later, Sam's bus was pulling up and Dean shoved the book into his bag and stood as his little brother hopped off the bus. Sam's face lit up in a grin - though Dean wasn't really sure why. He waited every day for Sam to get out of school and they always walked home together.
"Dean!" Sam cried out in greeting. Dean waved and Sam instantly started babbling to Dean about everything and anything that'd happened at school that day. Dean grinned, listening and responding when necessary until they reached their house nearly a mile down the road. There was no sign of the Impala, which was expected. John usually didn't get home until nearly six during the weekdays. He'd said that was the price that came with being the best mechanic on this side of Kansas.
Sam burst in the front door and instantly there was a toddler screaming in delight as Adam streaked towards him. Dean let the door close to the sounds of Sam and Adam playing, and he went to roll the trash cans to the back of the house and get started on his chores. Once he'd finished with the yard and greenhouse, Dean came inside to the scent of his mother's cooking and the sounds of Sam talking and Adam yelling at the television.
"Hey, sweetheart." Mary called from the kitchen. Dean wandered into the kitchen, setting his backpack down on the table and looking up at his mother with a grin. Sam put his notebook into his backpack and slipped past Dean- most likely to put his things upstairs.
"Hey mom." Dean responded, sitting down and watching her cook for a moment. Mary hummed, swaying around the kitchen in a summer dress - as if outside, fall wasn't settling over them like an icy blanket. He opened his mouth to tell her about Castiel, but stopped at the sound of Sam yelling and Adam's shrieking laughter.
Mary gave Dean a look and he sighed, slipping out from behind the table and into the living room to see Adam chucking another toy car at Sam's head.
"STOP IT!" Sam screamed, arms thrown up over his head. Adam laughed loudly, mimicking Sam's yell and reaching to grab another car. Dean hurried over, picking up the toddler and tossing Adam up onto his shoulder.
"No! NO!" Adam yelled, kicking his legs and nearly nailing Dean in the gut. Dean huffed swinging Adam around his shoulders and then under his arm until Adam's protests turned into startled laughter.
"Come on, monster." Dean grunted, thundering upstairs with Adam underneath his arm. It was nearly four, meaning Adam was most likely overdue for his nap. Adam's laughter turned into protests once more once he realized what Dean was trying to do.
It took nearly an hour to wear Adam down enough for the toddler to fall asleep. Dean returned downstairs to try and get some of his homework done while Sam and Mary talked about their days. Adam was up before the end of the hour, grumpy and tired and clinging to Mary's leg until John walked in the front door at six thirty. Things were chaos for a few moments before everyone settled down around the dinner table.
"How was school, Dean?" Mary asked softly. John grunted in agreement to her question, shoveling potatoes into his mouth and looking at his oldest son. Dean stirred his dinner around before answering it.
"There was a new kid. He got off at this stop. I think he lives around here." Dean said, stuffing a roll into his mouth. "He stares. A lot." He mumbled around his food. Mary waved her spoon around thoughtfully.
"You know, I thought I saw moving trucks here earlier today. Someone must have bought that old fixer-upper down the road." She said, sipping at her sweet tea. John grunted, eating a slice of steak and nodding at his plate.
"Heard about that at the shop today. Some woman and her husband came into town and practically bought nearly an entire house worth of furniture this morning. Must be them." As he spoke, John brought his tea to his lips and took a deep gulp from it, setting the glass down with a clunk. Dean looked between his parents for a moment, but they didn't ask him anything else - still talking to one another in speculation about their new neighbors.
When dinner was done and everyone was washed up, Sam and Adam crawled into Dean's bed with a storybook that Sam had filched from school. Much to Dean's protest about book-reading being for sissies, Adam was still too young to go to bed without rightfully demanding a story beforehand.
The next morning, Castiel was at the bus stop whenever Dean and Sam got there. Sam elbowed Dean in the side as harshly as a 10 year old can, turning to his brother with wide eyes. "Is this the boy you were talking about yesterday? The one who stares?" Sam asked in a stage whisper. Dean shoved Sam's shoulder, glancing up at Castiel and then glaring down at his little brother.
"Shut up, Sammy!" He hissed. His gaze shot up to Castiel to see the other boy hiding a smile. Sam looked sheepish, and apologized softly to Castiel.
"Its okay, I don't mind. My name is Castiel." Castiel said to Sam. Sam grinned brightly, thumbing the straps of his backpack.
"My name's Sam. I'm ten!" Sam said, his chest puffing out proudly. Castiel nodded sagely, adjusting his satchel that was slung over his shoulder.
"That's a very important age." Castiel agreed. Sam opened his mouth to say something else, but it came out as a noise of dismay upon seeing the bus for Dean and Castiel approaching. Dean ruffled his little brother's mop of a head, waved him goodbye, and boarded the bus with Castiel.
Castiel sat down first, and Dean took the space beside him. He opened his mouth, about to apologize honestly on Sam's behalf, but Castiel interrupted him.
"It doesn't bother me," Castiel started slowly, looking away from the window to stare at Dean. "What you think." He elaborated. Dean, mortified, said nothing.
The day passed slowly, only a few things keeping Dean from hating the daily routine of school. His Science class was wasted staring at the back of Lisa Braden's head and wondering if her hair was as soft as it looked, gym class was spent ignoring Raphael's attempts to throw basketballs at the heads of freshmen, lunch break in the weight room to work out until he could barely move, and then blankly stare his way through his last three periods.
Dean's arms felt like noodles by the time he got on the bus after school, so absorbed into his thoughts that he'd temporarily forgotten about Castiel - until now.
"So..." Dean began, slipping into the seat with Castiel. "You sitting in my seat... is this going to be a permanent thing?" He asked -half joking. It didn't bother him THAT much, but it was enough that he couldn't NOT say anything. Castiel seemed startled, and snapped his head from staring out the window to look at Dean.
"My apologies... I was not aware." He confessed softly, gripping his satchel to his stomach. "Would you like me to move?"
"What?" Dean blurted, completely not expecting Castiel to offer Dean's seat back. "Uh no. you can keep it. its fine..." He muttered, voice trailing off as he went to stare out the opposite window across the bus. The bus pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the pothole-ridden main road. Dean glanced back over to Castiel and instantly looked away when he realized that the other boy was staring at him.
Dean waited a few seconds, and looked over at Castiel again, but the older boy had resumed looking out the window. A little unnerved, Dean shifted further down in his seat and resolved to look in the opposite direction of Castiel for the rest of the ride.
The bus dropped them off at the front of the long dirt road that stretched out to both Dean and Castiel's house. Dean took refuge on a patch of grass just beside the road, sitting down and watching for Sam's bus. Castiel seemed to hesitate for a moment, but sat down beside Dean after a moment.
Dean looked up and over at Castiel, unable to think of anything to say other than an unintelligible, "Uhm..."
Castiel trained his squinted eyes on the road, slim fingers clasped together in his lap. "Hunters should stay in pairs." He said lowly, watching for Sam's bus with scrutiny.
"Uhh?" Dean grunted in confusion, twisting his head to stare at the other boy.
"Waiting alone for your brother isn't safe. A rougarou or shapeshifter could kill you and people would be none-the-wiser as to what happened." Castiel muttered, staring down at the dirt road and examining a cluster of pebbles. He reached forward to pick up a pebble, rolling it around in his fingers. Dean tried not to scratch his head in confusion.
"A what-awhat? Shapeshifter?"
Castiel looked up, seemingly pleased at Dean's response. He moved the pebble between his thumb and forefinger, flicking it like a marble and watching it fly into the road.
"Rougarou. They're monsters that were once human, with the face of a beast. They feed on flesh." As he spoke, Castiel seemed to get excited about the subject, expression brightening just the slightest bit. "And shapeshifters are beings without a face of their own, so they kill their victims and steal their lives."
Dean stared for a long time, turning Castiel's words over and over in his head and trying to process them. Castiel shifted uncomfortably under the younger boy's gaze, but then Dean spoke up.
"So... what kills them?"
This seemed to spur Castiel onto a tangent, and suddenly Dean's head was being filled with story upon story of how to kill the beings Castiel had mentioned. It left the boy's mind reeling and he had to hold up a hand to stop Castiel mid-sentence.
"How do you know all this stuff?" He breathed out, feeling exhausted with the sheer amount of information he was processing.
Castiel straightened his back a little, shoulders stiff.
"Knowledge is best obtained through experience, and through the knowledge of others." He responded dutifully.
Dean stared, and Castiel started to fidget again.
"I read a lot of books." The older boy amended, and Dean released a long and understanding 'ohhhhhh', as Sam's school bus came down the road. Dean stood up, acting on instinct and reaching a hand out to help Castiel to his feet. The older boy took his hand dutifully, holding back a smile.
"Thank you, Dean." He said. Dean shrugged off Castiel's words and waited eagerly for Sam to get off the bus. His little brother came bounding down the steps, a smile on his face. Instantly, Dean was gesturing to Castiel.
"Cas told me about these things called shapeshifters. Cas, tell Sam what you told me." Dean grinned, actually excited that he had something worth sharing with his little brother. Castiel seemed unsure, at first, but he caved in at Dean's eager face and began to talk.
It was three in the morning when Sam's terrified scream woke up everyone in the house. Adam was instantly bawling and Sam streaked across the house and into Dean's room, all snot and tears and blathering on about shapeshifters in his room. Dean had a good thirty seconds to try and calm Sam down before John and Mary burst into Dean's room and Sam was pulled into his mother's embrace.
"D-dean told me about sh-shape shifters a-and how they kill people and then pretend to be them and hide their bodies a--and I had a bad dream!" Sam finally blurted, burying his head into Mary's shoulder. John looked livid, turning his gaze to land on his oldest son. Adam's cries echoed from the next room over and John pointed a menacing finger at Dean.
"We're going to have a talk in the morning." He growled, stomping out of the room to calm Adam down. Mary shushed and cooed Sam down from his tearful state, scowling at Dean but saying nothing. She walked out of the room after a moment and shut Dean's door behind herself.
John woke Dean up three hours later and dragged him outside to clean up car parts that littered the barn area. "If you're going to fill Sammy's head with nightmares, you'd better be ready to pay the consequences of waking everyone up." John had said, pointing to the pieces of engine littering the dew-covered grass.
When it was time to leave for the bus, Dean's hands and arms were covered in grease and he didn't have enough time to wash off before taking Sam with him to the bus stop.
Castiel was standing at the edge of the road, staring down the empty asphalt, as if willing the bus to appear. His demeanor instantly changed the second Dean and Sam came walking up, sharing a nod with Dean and smiling at Sam.
Sam, however, slid behind Dean and kept his eyes trained on the ground. This caused Castiel to slowly tilt his head to the side in confusion and Dean shoved Sam out from behind him.
"He had a nightmare about shapeshifters last night." Dean explained, ignoring Sam's look of betrayal that was shot his way. Castiel's eyes went wide and then his look transformed into an expression of seriousness.
"I'm sorry, Samuel. I didn't mean to frighten you." He stepped closer, crouching down to Sam's height and placing a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "You don't have to worry about any shapeshifters around here, however. Dean and I have already checked the area and it is free of anything evil. You're safe." As Castiel spoke, he shot Dean a look that warned the boy from saying otherwise. Sam looked over at Dean expectantly while Castiel stood back up. Dean shifted uncomfortably and then nodded.
"It’s true. The whole place is all clear, buddy." Dean said. Sam's distressed face became a look of relief. Dean and Castiel's bus drew up and Dean ruffled Sam's hair before boarding. They sat down and Dean instantly started rooting through his backpack.
"I wrote down what you said about shapeshifters." He said to Castiel. Castiel looked surprised, but pleased, and urged Dean to continue. Dean pulled out his homework assignment, flipping it over to show Castiel the barely legible scrawl that went into light detail about rougarou and shapeshifters. Castiel took the paper gingerly and skimmed the words.
"Very good, but a true hunter always records his notes in a journal so that other hunters after him can use it. We'll have to get you a journal." He said. Dean sheepishly took the paper back and stuffed it into his bag.
"Well, I'm not really a hunter so I guess it doesn't matter."
Castiel shook his head. "Hunters are not always born. It’s never too late to become one, you just need to learn. Hunters come from a variety of backgrounds, but they all want the same thing; to protect the weak from evil. You'll be a great hunter one day, Dean."
Dean didn't say a word, leaning back in his seat and staring down at his backpack. Castiel took his silence in stride, instead using it as time to go into more detail about famous hunters. (Dean doubted DaVinci really hunted werewolves in his free time, though.)
Dean spent most of his classes in a stupor, doing the work and going through the motions like he did every day. His mind, however, was stuck on Castiel's voice talking about anything and everything pertaining to the supernatural. The kid was like a hurricane that blew in from who knows where, throwing Dean's mind into chaos with things that he'd never thought about before.
During lunch, Dean slipped away to the weight room - waving to the coach - and spent his time lifting as much weight as he dared. He was tired of being weak, and if the slowly developing muscles on his arm were anything to go by, he wouldn't be weak for very much longer.
When the final bell rang and Dean clambered on the bus, he caught sight of Castiel in his customary seat. This time, however, Dean was more excited than disgruntled to see the dark haired boy occupying that window seat. He slid in next to Castiel with a smile and a cheerful 'Hey Cas!' that seemed to startle the older boy.
"... Cas?" Castiel inquired, brows furrowing in thought. Dean tilted his head to the side and shrugged.
"Castiel's too long; I thought Cas was more fitting." He confessed. Castiel seemed to take this in stride, squinting out the window and then looked back at Dean.
"I like it." He confirmed after a moment. Dean's face split into a grin and he held a fist out. Castiel's gaze slowly fell to Dean's hand and Dean moved the fist up and down a little.
"Brofist, man.... you know.. knuckle-bump?" Dean wouldn't say it out loud, but he'd always wanted a friend that he could bump knuckles with like all the guys on television seemed to do. Castiel held up his own fist slowly, looking at it and then Dean's before slowly bringing his fist forward and pressing his knuckles against Dean's. He did it with such precision - like some sort of bomb could be detonated if their knuckles were to hit at the wrong angle - that Dean burst out laughing.
This startled Castiel into jerking his hand away and Dean shook his head. "No, man, it’s okay. You did it right. Sort of. Just don't be so stiff about it." He chuckled. Castiel pursed his lips and looked down at his fist, fingers uncurling slowly.
When they got off the bus, Cas stayed with Dean to wait for Sammy's bus to show up. As soon as the younger Winchester's feet hit the gravel road, he was running over to the older boys with a grin.
"Does Cas have any more stories today?" He asked - somewhat breathlessly. Dean scowled, holding a hand up and pointing an accusing finger at his little brother.
"The last time Cas told you a story, you went crying to mom and dad 'cause it gave you a nightmare!" He barked. Sam shook his head earnestly, wide brown eyes staring at his older brother imploringly.
"I swear I won't get scared this time!" He pleaded. Dean looked to Castiel and Cas seemed to think for a moment before speaking.
"Have you heard of a lucky rabbit's foot?" Castiel asked Sam. The ten year old scoffed.
"Yeah, duh. Who hasn't?"
Cas shook his head. "But have you heard of the one that was so lucky, it stole everyone's good fortune to stay that way?" He continued. Sam, wide-eyed, shook his head. Castiel turned to head down the dirt path towards their homes.
"Okay, I'll tell you about it, but make sure you listen carefully about how to destroy it. If you were to ever find this rabbit's foot and lost it, you would lose all your good luck as well." While Castiel spoke, Sam and Dean followed the older boy like lost puppies.
The days passed slowly, each one with a new story from Castiel - who seemed to be stuffed to the brim with nothing but information on anything and everything. It was a week before their routine abruptly changed, thanks to one school bully by the name of Raphael.
Dean had been in the weight room whenever Raphael burst in and sneered at the Winchester boy. "What are you doing?" Raphael barked, voice authoritative - for a fourteen year old. Dean slowly set down the curling weights he'd been holding and stared up at Raphael.
"I'm lifting weights, what's it look like?" Dean snapped back. Raphael pushed Dean to the side, taking the curling weights and moving to put them back. Dean made a grab for them and Raphael jerked his hand out of reach.
"Keep your filthy hands off of my things, scum." Raphael growled lowly, staring Dean down like he was the lowest life form on Earth.
Dean growled, anger building up inside of him. Just because Raphael was the son of a preacher and had come from some hoity toity private school, didn't make him any better than anyone else.
"Don't be a dick, Raphael!" He yelled, shoving the older boy back.
Raphael dropped the weights to the ground, his fist swinging before they'd even made a clatter. Dean registered blinding pain in his mouth and cheek. He stumbled back into the weight bench, roaring out in anger and lunging forward to let his fist fly.
Raphael ducked, leg kicking out and hitting Dean in the side of the knee. The Winchester fell to the ground with a cry, unable to stop Raphael from punching him in the face again. His eye started to swell shut immediately, but Dean didn't let it stop him from trying to hit Raphael once more. A hand grabbed his wrist and twisted. Dean yelped, trying to move with the twist and wincing when it did nothing to stop the pain that reverberated down his hand and up his arm.
"S-stop it! That hurts!" Dean cried, instantly feeling shame well up in his gut. Raphael released him, foot flying out and kicking Dean in the stomach. Dean fell to the ground with a groan and Raphael stood over him with a leer.
"Heathen scum should learn their place." He spat, toeing his way past Dean and leaving the room abruptly. Dean sat on the floor of the weight room, clutching his wrist to his stomach and biting down on his split lip to keep from bursting into tears at the pain all over his body.
When his English teacher sent him to the nurse's office after lunch, Dean told her he'd fallen in the weight room and hit his head on a stack of weights. She didn't seem to believe him - a fist shaped bruise on his chin and eye being all but obvious - but didn't pry any further than telling Dean to be more careful with himself. He left the nurse's office with an ice pack in one hand and a wrap around his left wrist.
Dean was quiet when he clambered onto the bus after school. Castiel stared him down with a look of concern, but Dean ignored it. He sat down beside the older boy with a huff, forehead pressing into the back of the seat before him. Nothing was said between the two for the entirety of the bus ride, but Dean felt Castiel's gaze burning into the back of his head like a small fire.
Waiting for Sam's bus was done in silence, Dean refusing to answer any of Castiel's quiet inquiries. Before both Winchester boys left for home, however, Castiel grabbed Dean gently by the elbow and held him back.
"It’s obvious that you were attacked by some sort of monster...." He started. Dean opened his mouth to protest that it was Raphael, not some stupid monster, but Castiel shook his head. "I don't need to know what kind of monster it is; I just would like to ask if you would want to learn how to defend yourself from another attack. The best kind of hunter is one that can fight."
Sam stood a little further down the road, watching the exchange. Dean shifted, tugging his elbow out of Castiel's grasp and looking at the ground to think over Cas's words. He glanced up again, giving Castiel a weak smile.
"Uh... sure, I guess. Are you gonna teach me to fight?"
Dean's answer was a small grin.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue