.........there was a house. on the block i lived on as a child. a small brick house with a dark, patched roof. in this particular house, was a small family. A man, his wife, and their young son. now, granted, i never got to meet him face to face, i have to say he was my best and only, friend.

 "but, how could he be your best friend if you never met?" you might ask, well, you see, he lived on the second floor, like me, and one day, i got board. first, i noticed his open window, then, that he was in the said room.

Dad always told me never to talk to anyone i didn't know so, i didn't. instead i went to my journal and tore out a page. onto it i scribbled, "Hi." and fashioned it into a paper airplane, when i failed to do that, i balled it up and hurled it out my window, and into his. 

he looked up from the book he was lost in and over to where it had landed. like a frighted animal he approached it, stepping into the sunlight from his open window. he had, dark hair and engulfing blue eyes that hide behind thick, black, wire glasses. 

he picked up the wad and looked over at me, obviously confused. "open it." i mouthed in the fear i might wake Sammy or call attention to dad. the boy, looked away from me back down at the paper wad in his hands. slowly he opened it.

the look of fear on his face melted away, he smiled and waved. he then, briskly walked out of my view for a moment. then, he returned, with a wad of yellow pad paper in his hands. with a rather wimpy throw, he tossed it over to my window it would have missed, if i hadn't leaned out, arms extended for it.     

he stared at me, a strong look of anticipation on his face,  "open it." he mouthed. i unfolded it carefully, trying not to tear it. inside was a little doodle of a smiling cat and a note that said, "Hello." me and this boy exchanged notes like this for the next few months. over that time, i learned that he was twelve years old, he liked burgers, cats, and loved books. but i never got his name.

i had asked but, he would never respond to those messages or anything about his family. i had told him somethings. things i hadn't told any kid at school or on the bus. things even Sammy didn't quite understand. i had told him about the places i've been to, about my dad being in the military and even the few things i recall about my mom. 

"why would you tell a stranger all you have to tell?" you might be asking, the thing is. he wont remember. when we're relocated again, and we'd move away, he'll forget the stories. he'll forget me. they all do. 

soon enough, the summer ended, and another 'sold' sign appeared in my front yard. i'd spend the next few years bouncing around with my family until one day, bam, i was nineteen and Collage came. it's a shock i even finished high school, but for what ever reason Kansas State University felt the need to send me a letter, telling me i'd been invited to come to campus next fall. 

now, dad being the man he is, wouldn't turn down the free schooling even though he'd planned to send me off the the military. but, never the less i found myself sitting on a bus, heading across the country to some weird smart kid school. 

the bus smelled foul and the leather upholstery clung to my skin. i sat in silence, with my brown canvas bag weighing down on my lap while i gazed out the bus window. it was raining outside, the kind of rain i enjoy. a soft cool rain, that, for whatever reason always feels best in September. 

across from me sat a pretty blonde girl in a purple dress. she looked about my age. i wonder if she was going to KSU too. that made me think about my room mate. i had been notified in advance of who it would be, some guy named, Benjamin Lafitte. Damn i hope he's not some preppy bitch. God knows i can't handle that. 

The sun goes down and everyone on the bus seems to fall asleep. everyone but me. i was awake, watching the streetlights pass by. thinking about Sam. i hope, he'll be okay without me. but he's got dad. what should i worry about. 

soon the sun rose again, and we arrived at the school. it was bigger then i thought, it looked old. it was made of off-white bricks, and had a light gray roof. defiantly not my style but whatever. i get off the bus and head inside with a few others, including the blonde girl.

there was a table set up in the lobby, with a cheap, blue plastic table cloth draped over it. "Name," a woman spoke to me in a cheery tone. "um, Winchester. Dean Winchester." who am i freaking James Bond? she looked down at the clipboard in her hands, 

"ah yes, Mr. Winchester," She extended a sheet of paper and a single silver key, "here's you class scheduled, and you dorm key, Don't lose them." i looked down at the number taped to the key ring, 163. 

i made my way down the road to the dorms. they look slightly more modern, not that i liked that. i'm what you might call 'classic'. anyway, i went inside, to the front desk dragging my duffel bag behind me. 

i let my eyes wander around, looking at it all. it was big that's for sure, and nice. the guy at the front desk looked like he was in his mid to late fifties maybe, he had silver hair and pail eyes with a very noticeable crease between. 

"what floor is room 163 on?" i ask him. he turned to face me, i could tell he didn't like collage kids, which brings up the question on why the hell he works at a collage dorm. "the fourth floor, to the right." he deadpanned. 

"yeah, uh, thanks, i guess." i said backing away awkwardly toward the elevator door. i started to frantically smack the button, "eh hem!" the desk guy exclaimed. "gesundheit" i called over my shoulder as i continued to hit the button. 

the doors opened and i hoped inside, and again, smacked another button, only this time it was the button for the fourth floor. after a mild amount of wandering, i found my room and put my key in the lock, "it's open!" someone called from the other side of the door.

I turn the handle and go in, on one of the beds, sat a guy who looked a few years older then me, he had scruffy brown hair, a short beard, and shinny blue eyes. "you must be Dean Winchester," he said in an accent i couldn't quite place. "you must be Benjamin." i respond. 

"call me Benny," ah, a nickname, good. i come inside, there were for plain white walls, gray wood floors, two beds, and a door, which i can only hope, leads to a bathroom. 

five months later-

Benny's cool. super laid back, and fun at parties too. the only problem is he's a good friend. and before you're like, "Dean why." just hear me out, he doesn't let me stay out past eleven on nights before lectures, he also won't let me drink those nights either. what a buzz kill. 

but he's a good guy and i'd be lost without him. "Dean." Benny said as he smacked me on the back of the head with a folder, "wake up." i groaned. finals were next month. and i haven't studied at all. i'm pulling low D's in all my classes.

"eh, wake me up when i care." i moaned, pulling my face into my pillow. "come on now brother, don't be that way." Benny some how managed to get me out of bed. i think it involved him bribing me with bacon. 

I stumble into the bathroom to shower, but just because i'm lazy, i only stuck my head in the sink and rinsed off my hair. "good enough." i said to myself as towel my hair dry. 

the lecture was boring. as usual. i actually slept through it. when i woke up, everyone else was gone. "eh hem!" i fell forward almost toppling over the desk. apparently the professor was still here. "Mr. Winchester." he said the the most teacher-y voice i've ever heard. 

"yes Mr.- uh, Mr.-" "Turner. Rufus Turner." why does everyone sound like James Bond? Rufus was and older man, with dark skin, brown eyes, and a thick mustache. "Mr. Winchester. that is what? the twelfth, no twentieth, time you've falling asleep in my class this month."

busted. "i- um- well-" i began, but he cut me off, "you are aware if you fail the upcoming exam you'll have to pay for your schooling." wait. what. "that's a no-can-do Mr." it's the truth. dad would kill me if i manage to blow this. 

"well then. you better get studying." he was turning around when i shouted back, "How am i supposed to go up four grades in a month?" Rufus signed, "their's a kid in one of classes. very bright. they might be able to help." Great. well maybe they're a super hot chick. 

two days passed. i'm scheduled to meet my tutor this afternoon. Benny's glad i'll finally get out of our dorm for a bit. he wont say it, but when ever i go out he watches Dr. Sexy MD on Netflix. i've defiantly never spied on him and watched a few episodes myself.  

i'm supposed to meet my tutor tonight at the library, seven-ish. yes, i have time for a quick nap. i swear i only closed my eyes for moment, and when i opened them was six forty-five. the library is fifteen minutes away.  

i jump up form the couch, pull on my shoes, grab my book bag, and blare out the door, down the hall, to the elevator. it was already dark outside when i reach the parking lot, so i keep tripping on things in the darkness. 

at last, six minutes late, i show up at the library. it had two large marble pillars in the entry way along with a short flight of stairs leading up to the door. i go up them and pull on the handle. closed. oh well, better luck next time. "it's a push door, doofus." said a guy that looked about twenty-three or so.  he was trimming the bushes outside the library.

my face became red from embarrassment, "who are you and what the hell are you even doing at this time of night?" i asked trying to shake off the initial embarrassment. he looked at me, in this light all i could tell about him was that he had gold cat eyes, he was blonde, and short, "I'm the maintenance guy." 

okay whatever, forget the weird kid, i have to get inside. this time i pushed the door open and step inside. "good boy," the maintenance kid snarked.  any other day i'd punch him, but i don't have time. i continue inside the library, there's only a handful of people in here. Nerds. 

i looked around, Rufus said they'ed be somewhere in the history section. please be a hot chick. after a moment of wandering i find the history section. there's only one person back there, their face hidden behind a book. i walk over, "I'm Dean, Mr. Turner told me i'd meet my tutor here. is that you or-" they set the book down, reveling that they were indeed, not a chick, but a dark haired, young guy, maybe a year or to older then me. 

the first thing i noticed about this kid was his eyes. they were... blue. a kind of blue that's almost engulfing, hidden behind black wire  glasses. he gazed up at me, thinking for a moment. "i'm... Castiel." Castiel.... an odd name. i mean it's a cool name, just not something i've ever heard before. "so, you're the guy who's gonna raise me from the hell that is finals?" took a set across from him. he sat there for a moment, "yes." 

well this is going to be fun. 

:Hey guys, if you want more let me know. this was only supposed to be a one shot, ops. anyway, if i get five comments asking for more, i'll write another chapter. i don't want to write a book no one will read. if you catch any typos let me know asap. thx for reading, Bye.:

                                                               ~Deanie