FicWad

This is dedicated to my wonderful, amazing, international award-winning BETA and twitter friend: @tellmeimanangel! Y’all need to go follow her if you’re not already. Also, I changed my twitter name, I am now @whereareyoucas, (used to be @gh0stofyou) and I made a fandom twitter account @plzdean, so please follow me if you want to see whenever I post a new chapter!


It was a mild Friday morning in Lawrence, Kansas, when a new face turned up at Lawrence High School.

This new face was certainly not from Lawrence, and from the accent heard by only few that had spoken to him, he was certainly not from Kanas. There was something about this boy that had people’s attention from the second he passed them, but nobody could figure out exactly what it was. This new face walked through the school gates with his head down to avoid curious eyes and a cigarette balanced between the fingers on his right hand. He was dressed in ordinarily ordinary clothes: black jeans, a red shirt with a navy hoodie that clung to his thin arms and waist.

The reason people starred, the boy assumed, was because new faces were rare here, and it was no surprise to him that people weren’t arriving here by the second. The building was practically falling to pieces and the whole place looked more like a goddamned prison than a school. He stumped his cigarette out on the floor with his foot and entered the main building as he looked for his first class. The first thing he noticed about the hallways was that they smelt like piss and the walls are filthy grey. Not to mention the fact half the windows were either cracked, smashed, or missing altogether.

He found the room he was looking for with quick direction from the school’s secretary. She seemed nice. God, awfully boring, but nice nonetheless.

When he entered the classroom he found it was still half empty. There must have been only fifteen people in there, and he felt somewhat relived that he wasn’t late on his first day. The teacher directed him to a seat on the second row, two seats to the middle. And so he sat there, and chewed a mint as he watched as people slowly filled the empty seats around him, every one of them looking at him with a slight frown of curiosity when they noticed him – this unfamiliar face. The boy didn’t seem to mind the stares; he just hoped that nobody would talk to him until he felt a little more relaxed; he had a habit of being awfully blunt with people when he was nervous.

“Today is such an exciting day, isn’t it?!” the teacher grinned as she made her way to the blackboard. She had introduced herself to the boy as ‘Miss Armstrong’ and she was his English teacher. The boy’s first impressions of her were that she was a little too happy. But it wasn’t really happiness; it was chemical happiness - her eyes looked dead but her smile was plastered there, wide and fake, as if it couldn’t go away. “We have a new pupil in the mix!” she smiled, looking dead into his eyes. The boy’s stomach twisted. “How about you tell us your name and three facts about yourself?”
“Uh,” he cleared his throat, “my name is Castiel Novak-”
“What sort of name is that?” a voice from behind him sniggered.
“- three facts about myself? My favourite band is, uhm, The Used…I like to read and I’m, uh, from Boston.”
“What a freaking loser.” The voice laughed again. Various other kids around the room sniggered too, and Castiel turned around to see a green eyed boy sitting sprawled apathetically across his desk. When Castiel caught his eye he sniggered again and said “What the hell are you looking at, loser?”
“Mr Winchester, how about you come up here and tell us three facts about you? Maybe you will understand how nerve wrecking it is to talk in front of a class of judgmental asses, such as yourself.” Miss Armstrong said. Castiel felt the colour drain from his face; the one thing more embarrassing than being humiliated in front of a class of teenagers is when the teacher sticks up for you.

“Gladly.” The boy smirked as he made his way to the front of the room. He looked right at Castiel, but Castiel made a point of avoiding eye contact. “Well…my name is Dean. Three facts about The Mighty Dean Winchester? My father is a drunk, I lost my virginity at fourteen and I probably own more porno mags than all of you pathetic losers put together.” He said, looking round at the face of every guy in the class. The girls giggled and, although they’d just been insulted by this pretentious asshole, the boys laughed too. “Even you, Garth. I’m sure I own a lot more porno mags than you…if that’s even possible.”
The class laughed again.
“Thanks for that, Dean. You will be joining me afterschool today for a detention.” Miss Armstrong smiled coldly.
“What?!” The boy frowned as he slumped back down into his seat behind me.
“There are somethings that, as your English teacher, I don’t particularly want to hear you talk about in this classroom. Three of which you just shared with us all.”
“Well give New-Kid a detention too. He has a packet of cigarettes in his pocket.” A boy sitting beside Dean added. Castiel shuffled uncomfortably and kept his eyes on his nervous hands as the class began to mutter around him.
“Garth,” Miss Armstrong said, leaning on Castiel’s desk with one hand. “May I give you a piece of advice that may save you from getting beaten up again in the future?” she said. The class laughed and even Castiel even found himself sniggering.
“Go on then, Miss.” Garth smiled sarcastically.
“Don’t be snitch. Nobody likes a snitch.” Miss Armstrong hissed as she handed both Dean and Castiel a detention slip. She then turned back to Castiel and said “I’m sorry for giving you a detention on your first day, but you broke the school rules and that can’t go unpunished.” She then held her hand out and he handed her the pack of cigarettes.

* * *

Castiel spent the rest of the day alone. He hadn’t quite worked out how to make friends yet, and he couldn’t find his brother anywhere so he really didn’t have anyone at all. In the end he decided to sit in the canteen alone, hoping that someone will feel sorry for him, the poor little new kid, and decide to fill the empty spaces around the table. But no one did. And he was alone through every lesson until the end-of-day bell rang and he made his way to detention.

He walked back to his English room and found that the only other person in there was Dean.
“Uh, Miss Armstrong wants us to sort the English Department’s store cupboard.” Dean mumbled to him as he dumped his bag on the floor. Castiel nodded and made his way over to the cupboard and opened the door to find shelves and shelves of mismatched books piled hurriedly and without any such order. The sight made Castiel sigh; it would take him them at least three hours to sort it all. He had hoped that if the detention only lasted an hour, he could have gotten home without his parents noticing that he was late on his first day without an excuse. “So,” Dean said as he made his way over to the cupboard, “you said you were from Baltimore?”
“Boston.” Castiel corrected.
“Yeah, whatever, so you’re from Boston, how come you moved all the way here?”
“I just did.” Castiel said as he picked out misplaced copies of Lord Of The Flies and placed them in a small pile in his arms.
“That doesn’t seem like a reasonable excuse to move half way across the country.” Dean said, sitting down on the edge of a desk in front of the cupboard.
“Well…I just did.” Castiel shrugged coldly.
“Dude, seriously, I’m only trying to make conversation. You’re not giving a very good first impression.” Dean laughed.
“Well you didn’t make a particularly good impression this morning.”
“I was only messing around, dude. Seriously, I’m not that much of an asshole.”
“You humiliated me in front of the whole class!” Castiel said angrily, turning around to look at Dean. “Do you have any idea how many times your friends have called me a loser today? And that’s all because of you!”
“Kid, I’m sorry.” Dean said. “I didn’t realise they’d do that.”
“Whatever. I’m used to it.” Castiel muttered coldly as he turned away from the green-eyed boy who showed no intentions of actually helping.
“If it makes it any better, I found these before you arrived.”

Castiel turned around to find Dean holding the packet of cigarettes Miss Armstrong had taken away from him that morning.
“Where did you find those?”
“Miss Armstrong’s desk drawer.” Dean said. Castiel reached out to take them back but Dean pulled them away.
“Give them back. They’re mine.” Castiel hissed.
“I’ll give them back but you’ve got to promise to stop smoking them.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re only seventeen and you’re killing yourself.”
Castiel laughed “Fine: take them. I’ll just buy more.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.”
“I’ll tell your parents.” Dean said quickly.

Castiel didn’t even think twice, he just jumped forwards for the cigarettes. Dean stood up from where he was sat on the edge of the desk, and shoved Castiel to the floor. He looked up at Dean from where he was on the ground and felt his whole body contract with anger, his face growing redder by the second. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and clenched his fists down by his side, breathing heavily out of his nose. He lunged forward to go in for the first punch but Dean grabbed his fist before it reached his face.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Dean winked as he lowered the other boy’s arm; but he never let go of Castiel’s clenched fist. Even when Castiel’s breathing had returned to normal and his body had completely relaxed, Dean didn’t let go of his fist until Castiel pulled it away and looked down at his feet, ashamed.

“I’m sorry.” Castiel muttered, turning back to the cupboard. He picked up the books he’d dumped on the floor and carefully placed them back onto the shelf.
“Whatever. Let’s get out of here.” Dean shrugged as he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.
“We can’t leave! We’re in detention.” Castiel frowned.
“It’s fine, dude. She’ll probably forget that we were even supposed to have a detention.”
“Yeah, well, I think I’ll just stay here until I’ve finished sorting this cupboard, okay?”
“Don’t be such a loser.”
Castiel rolled his eyes and picked up another small pile of books.
“You’re wasting your time here. Let me drive you home.” Dean suggested.
“No.”
“You’ll have to walk home on your own. It’s late; the buses have stopped running.
“I said no.”
“Come on, Cas.”
“Listen to me, okay? I said – wait…what?”
“What?”
“What did you just call me?”
“I called you ‘Cas’. I’m sorry…if you’d rather I called you by your full name then I will. I just thought that I suited you. I’m sorry.”
“No. No, it’s fine. I like it.” Castiel grabbed a couple of books and turned his back to hide his face as his cheeks flushed red. He had no idea why he was blushing, but he guessed it was because no one had ever really given him a nickname before. It made him feel liked– something he’s never really felt before. Nobody had ever really liked him enough to give him a special name like that.
“Well, then maybe I can drive you home tomorrow.” Dean shrugged.
“Tomorrow is Saturday. We won’t be at school tomorrow.”
“Exactly! I’ll pick you up from your house at eleven and we can go into town and I will buy you lunch.”
“Why would you want to do that? You hardly know me.”
“I want to make it up to you for this morning. I was an asshole…I shouldn’t have made the class laugh at you like that.”
“It’s fine, Dean. I forgive you. You don’t need to buy me-”
“I want to, okay? I want to buy you lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You don’t even know where I live.” Castiel laughed.
“That’s why I want to drive you home. So…can I?”
“You strike me as the sort of person who always gets what he wants.” Castiel smiled.
“I think it that’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes, Dean.”