So I know this idea has been done plenty of times before but I promise I'm going to make this as unique as i can so that you all can enjoy it and read something new :) I really hope you give this story a chance, because i am quite excited to write it.
Thankyou, and enjoy!
Castiel Novak didn't get a wink of sleep last night. The weekend was over, and that meant that it was time to go back. The young teen had been up all night, stomach churning with apprehension at the thought of what awaited him. He wanted so badly to call in sick and curl up in his bed, nestled under the sheets. Perhaps if he wound himself up into a tight enough ball he'd disappear forever.
It was only a thought, of course. Because Castiel knew what his father would do if he were to even try and pull through with faking sick. Mr. Novak never let his son skip school. In fact, when the teen was sick with bronchitis back during his freshman year, he was still forced by his father to attend his classes. There was no way Castiel would be able to stay home just because he wanted to.
So, with a groan muffled by sheets, Castiel mustered up the courage to slip out of his bed and head to the shower. He turned the glass knob with a squeak and stripped gingerly out of his clothes before stepping in. As Castiel's skin made contact with the steaming water he felt the torn at flesh of his arms cry out in protest. Last night had been particularly difficult for him in the emotional department, and the skin of his arms had taken most of the blow. The fresh cuts were swollen with irritation and the little amount of scabs that had begun to form were now gone and washed away, reopening the thin (yet deep) wounds.
Castiel quickly finished his shower and stepped out, drying himself then slipping on one of his many long-sleeves and dark jeans. Wiping off the steam on the mirror, the teen gazed at his pale complexion. Tired blue eyes gazed back at him, underlined by purplish shadows from staying up most of the night. His skin was paler than normal from his lack of sleep, and Castiel sighed, running hands down his face as if to wipe off the flaws he couldn't help but dwell over. The young boy ran shaking fingers through his damp hair in his frustration, messing it up as he exhaled and tried to relax his tense muscles.
Deciding against peering once more at his reflection, Castiel brushed his teeth, popped on his contacts, and then left the bathroom, tugging on his jacket and slinging his backpack onto his shoulders. He threw a quick prayer (as he always did) before he left his room as quietly as he could.
When Castiel got to the living room he silently thanked God that his father was fast asleep on the couch. With his dad sleeping, the teen could actually pack a lunch without getting lectured for imaginary wrongs that he did not commit. So he made himself a sandwich and threw in an apple into a plastic grocery bag, along with a bottle of water. The teen did all of this as quietly as he could, so as not to wake up his father. After putting his lunch into his backpack and grabbing a granola bar, Castiel slipped out of the house and made his trek to school.
He couldn't feel less ready.
"Sammy! Hurry up or I'm leavin' without ya!" Dean Winchester called out to his little brother as he munched on another piece of bacon and downed the last of his coffee, being sure to leave the dregs swirling in the mug. It was their first day at their new schools and they were already going to be late. Normally, Dean didn't give a damn how late he was to school. But Sam was finishing his last year of middle school, and he took his studies very seriously. So Dean tried to somewhat respect that.
The Winchester boys were always moving around due to their dad's job as a private investigator. After about their tenth time moving (back when Dean was thirteen), Dean learned not to worry too much about making good impressions at schools. He did his homework, kept good grades, and he made sure his GPA stayed steady so he could one day join his dad in his work field. That was Dean's plan. And he had stuck to that plan as long as he could remember. So normally the pattern at the schools he attended went something like this:
-Teachers didn't like him, but normally didn't bother him too much because he kept decent grades
-Students always seemed to like him and didn't give him trouble, and,
-Dean would find himself moving a few months (or a year, the longest) later
That was it. No attachments, no worries, and the opportunity at a fresh new start always presented itself.
Sam walked into the kitchen and grabbed the last three strips of bacon. "You wouldn't leave without me," Sam pointed out with a mouthful and a smug smile. "Dad would kill you."
Dean shrugged and returned Sam's sarcastic smile. "Dad isn't here. Now come on, let's get a move on," Dean ordered as he headed out the door, followed by his brother (who gave Dean his signature eye roll). They climbed into a sleek black '67 Impala, Dean's most prized possession. John Winchester, Dean's father, gave him the car when he turned sixteen a year ago. It had been sitting at their uncle Bobby's garage, rotting away until John brought it over to Chicago and Dean fixed it up and got it running, again. It was the one thing Dean owned that would never change in his hectic life. It was the stability and the source of Dean's happiness, as cheesy as that sounded.
Dean started up the car, smiling at the lively purr it emitted as he pulled out of the driveway. He gripped onto the steering wheel with one hand (something John would normally reprimand him for doing) and made his way to Sammy's middle school, which was conveniently located right across the road from Dean's high school. the familiar tunes of Metallica blasted as he cruised down the road.
Sam sighed as he looked up from a book, taking to rolling his eyes again. "Don't you think it's a bit early for... this?" Sam asked, gesturing towards the cassette player.
Dean raised the volume in response. "It's never too early for Metallica," the blond replied, flashing his brother a winning smile. "So, Sammy, you ready?" Dean asked, referring to starting a new school. Sam was usually nervous on his first day, and he never enjoyed moving. Every time they had to leave Sam would put up a fight, asking why they couldn't stay. Sam's problem was that he usually got too attached. He made friends and he impressed the teachers. Dean was pretty sure the kid couldn't help it, though. He was naturally charming to those around him. He was a smart kid and he always involved himself as much as he could in school. Sam would join clubs and academic groups and he'd make tons of friends. Dean made a lot of "friends" himself, but he never grew attached to them like Sam did.
Sammy laid his head back against the passenger seat and closed his eyes. "I'm ready, I guess. I just wish we didn't have to leave Chicago. It was the one nice city we ever lived in," Sam reminisced. He opened his eyes and gazed out the window. "Now we're back in this crap town."
"Alright, alright, Donnie Darko. Lawrence isn't that bad. And it's the closest thing to home we've ever had," Dean tried, glancing at his brother before he returned his eyes to the road. Sam wore a frown, clearly not convinced. "Cheer up, you always do well in school. What's wrong with a new experience?" Dean asked, trying to get his brother to see the brighter side of this. He knew the answer, though. They had this talk every time they were about to start at a new school.
"I don't want a new experience, Dean," Sam whined. "I just want to settle down. I want a place we can call our home! I don't want any more condos and motels and suitcases filling the rooms we stay in! I just..." Sam let out a frustrated sigh before rolling his eyes and looking out the window. "Whatever. It doesn't change anything."
The rest of the drive went in silence.
So this was kinda a prologue to the story n_n just introducing characters and placing the setting. New chapter will be out very soon!
Goodbye, lovelies!~