Drumming his fingers along the leather car seat, Dean Winchester leaned lazily against the car door, gazing out the window.

Sam was in the passenger's seat, looking around with bright curiosity at the new collage. They had been called to investigate a job here, and all the hunters that came mysteriously disappeared-- nobody had seen them since.

The EMF was off the carts, Dean noticed, hearing the loud beeping in his pocket. Sighing, he looked around for a parking lot, pulling the supernatural tracking device out and glancing at it. He whistled, seeing the needle hovering somewhere in the red zone, and slipped it back into his pocket.

"So, Sammy," he started.

"Yeah?" Sam answered, glancing up at Dean. "Everything okay?" He sat up, yawning, and stretched. The ride had been a week from their last job, and both of them were exhausted from the long journey.

Dean sighed, looking up at the school. It didn't look very threatening, but who knew? "Are you nervous?" he asked, finally finding a parking spot. "Y'know, man, cause every hunter here vanishes?"

Sam yawned again and shook his head. "No, not really. Why?"

Dean shrugged. "Just, you've been known to get pretty..." he thought for a second, a smirk on his face. "Nervous."

Crossing his arms, Sam stared in half-disbelief at his brother. "Oh? And just who was the dick having a nervous breakdown when he got infected with that ghost sickness?" He dodged Dean's hand and laughed.

Dean steered the Impala into the parking lot and parked it there, right next to a cherry-pink motorcycle with a very pretty ginger boy yelling at another, taller brunette.

Raising an eyebrow at the amusing scene unfolding in front of him, Dean stepped out of his car, glancing back at the two boys. Sure enough, they were still shouting at each other-- well, the ginger was yelling at the brunette, who didn't seem very interested in listening to him.

"You two alright?" Dean called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

The shorter of the two looked at him with startlingly blue eyes and a scowl. "Yeah, we're fine, except for this one who's about to have a knife stabbed into his fucking gut," he shouted back at Dean, motioning to the other, who merely chuckled.

Sam whistled, slamming the car door and going around to meet Dean. "Who would've expected that?" he asked.

Dean tapped his foot on the ground, narrowing his eyes at the boy and shutting the car door. "Violent," he murmured.

"Got a problem?" the boy asked, his blue eyes now burning with a kind of fire. "Go away and let me shout at this moron in peace! Why did we even come here?!"

Deciding he did not want to get involved with the two, Dean stepped away from them, and into the very large parking lot of his new collage. Cars lined the parking lot, but there was a curious carriage-looking thing in one corner, and several dozen bikes were propped against the side of the school-- as well as one beaten-up old car with a willow branch poking through a window.

Dean rubbed his eyes. This was going to be a ride, he knew that much for sure, but what had he gotten himself into exactly, he wasn't sure. Bobby had told him the job would take him a couple of months, but how long was it going to take? A 'couple months' didn't mean anything!

Well, of course, it means something. You just don't understand exactly what it means since you are, for some reason, extremely close-minded at times. Perhaps this school-- and maybe, even me myself-- will teach you to be better at that kind of thing.

Grumbling, Dean pulled his small suitcase out of the Impala's trunk and rolled Sam's over to him. "Thanks, baby," he murmured to his car. "You're not going anywhere for a 'couple months'."

Sam snorted a laugh. "You're still hung up on that? It'll probably take like... six, seven weeks? It seems pretty big to me," he commented, pulling out his phone and tapping some things into Google. "Widespread disappearances, disturbances in student dorm rooms, people passing through walls, black smoke-- demon presence-- and all sorts of other stuff."

He sighed. "Vampire reports, even. And one student who claims to be a master detective-- and can prove it. He's solved everything people have tossed his way."

"Huh," Dean muttered. "So, what-- we got a wishing well, a genie, a set of witches?" He started to walk towards the school. "Anything else?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, actually. Strange-looking students, someone who has six arms, some weird overpowered demon thing that attacked the school-- we're still not, well, nobody is sure what it was. Apparently, though, it was one of the students?" He frowned. "Moving tattoos-- what? Kitsunes, werewolf stuff, strangely colored eyes, uh..." he frowned. "just... a lot of stuff. So I've signed us up to become students here-- it'll help us with the job, kay?"

Dean scoffed, shaking his head in exasperation and crossing the street to the school doors. "Will it?" he questioned, pushing open the large, glass double doors.

They stepped inside the school, stopping to look around at the breathtaking room.

With two enormous, elegantly curved arch windows on either side of the door, light flooded the entryway. Smooth, white pillars held up the light grey ceiling, with lamps hanging on silver wire and adorned with imbedded glass pieces.

Couches lined the dusty-rose walls, old-looking paintings crisscrossing the walls and propped up on tables. Bookshelves were everywhere, too, with all sorts of things on them-- books, obviously, but also flowerpots, little clay figures, boxes of all sizes and shapes, and even, once, a dead snake preserved in fluid.

A group of eight boys walked by, chatting lightly. They were about twenty, and all looked similar. Two carried at least three books in their arms, and one of them trailed behind the others, taking sips of his coffee every now and then.

But the really weird thing about them was their eyes. They were... glowing.

One-- the shortest-- had golden-yellow eyes, crisscrossing pale yellow and white-gold, darker coppery undertones shining in the light. He also had-- scales, it seemed, on one side of his face like a snake.

Two had blue eyes, one a dark indigo-blue, hued like midnight, and the other had a blue like a sky. One had pink eyes, and he kept stealing glances at another, taller boy, with shimmering silver eyes. Two looked like twins, one with green-glowing eyes, and the other with shades of crimson. And then there was the last one, with violet eyes that seemed slightly nervous all the time.

The group was chatting in a somewhat carefree manner, smiling and laughing occasionally. They seemed to be having a wonderful time here, unlike Dean, at least until the one with violet eyes glared at the red-eyed boy and smacked him.

"Why does everyone seem to hate each other here?" Dean whispered to Sam.

The ones with light blue and pink eyes gasped simultaneously. "Oh, no, they don't hate each other do you?!" the blue-eyed boy asked hurriedly, his concerned gaze falling on the two who had started arguing.

They glanced at each other, blinking. "Uh... no," said the purple-eyed boy. "Roman was just... being... annoying," he finished lamely, shooting another glare at the red-eyed one (Roman?). "He got us lost."

Sam looked at Dean and shrugged. "They seem to be friends," he quipped, rolling his suitcase to the front desk, where a person was filing papers. "Come on, let's find our... rooms, too."

But Dean wasn't listening.

Dean was watching as the person at the front desk filed papers-- three papers at once, with six arms and a quirky smile.

"What the..." Dean muttered, his eyes narrowed.

The person gave him a smug smirk and waved him over, just as fae finished talking to the group of eight boys. "C'mere, Dean," fae beckoned, flashing him a lopsided, fanged grin. "You're not sure what I am, right?"

The light blue-eyed boy glanced over at Dean. "Is everything alright?" he asked. "This is N, the front-desk-person."

N barked a laugh. "Oh, I'm far from being a person, Patton," fae giggled. "And Dean, darling-- your room is 617B, next to Harry and Draco's, with a boy named... oh, sorry, that's classified. Sam, you're in 329B, next to Chuuya and Dazai's, dorm mate's name also classified."

"What does that mean?" Dean demanded. "I have a dorm? I'm-- we're just here for a case!" He turned with disbelief to look at his brother, who just shrugged.

"I told you I signed us up," Sam offered.

Dean groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, great, just great."

N waved faer hand airily. "It'll be fine, darling," fae purred, leaning lazily back in faer chair and folding faer leg over the other.

Dean crossed his arms, glaring at N with confusion and slight fear. "What kind of monster are you?"

"N is not a monster," the dark blue-eyed boy answered him. "Fae is-- fae-- I'm not sure, actually," he admitted. "But you will not be calling faem a 'monster', at least not while any of us are near you. You are able to, of course, but not without a great deal of pain."

N giggled. "Oh, Logan, a boy after my own heart." Fae sighed in a fluttery way. "Not really, you understand-- romance is so dull. Anyway darlings, I've given you your dorm numbers, so do enjoy your time here!" Fae waved the eight off and motioned to Dean and Sam.

Sam was looking at N with suspicion. "Have you been the one doing the--"

"Disappearances? Of those hunters?" fae answered. "No. But I know who is," fae hinted. "I'm the Narrator. I know... pretty much everything, you must understand."

Dean slammed his hands down on the table. "Then why haven't they stopped?" he yelled. "Tell us so we can kill it!"

N smiled and slowly, slowly, shook faer head. "No. I know everything, and I know that you are not going to disappear. You're not going to find the ones who are gone, though-- they are gone, long gone indeed, so far gone it's no use."

Closing faer eyes, N stretched all six of faer arms. "So you're better off enjoying your stay here, believe me. I've got you filed for, oh, the next few quarters?" Smirking, fae pulled some papers out of a pile and glanced lazily at them. "Yes, you're programmed to stay here for the next four quarters. Enjoy, darlings," fae purred, rolling out the rr.

"Fuck you," Dean hissed. "I'm not going to enjoy anything. I'm going to find the hunters."

And without another word, he dragged his suitcase to his room without a second glance. Sam looked around at Fanfae University, shrugged, and followed his brother.

The Narrator sighed contentedly, looking at the two, and continued to file papers.

---

Dean's dorm room was actually, pretty spacious.

Two long, rectangular windows let sunlight flood the room through gauzy, pale-white curtains that fluttered in the breeze. The floor was made of light-birch floorboards in the entryway and then faded into dark grey, polished porcelain tiles. A green, fluffy-looking couch was propped against a wall, next to a long dark-wood table with a flowerpot and several stacks of books on top.

There were also several other doors, presumably leading to the bathroom and the bedroom-- singular, apparently Dean was going to be sharing a room with a stranger, but hopefully not a bed (as that would get super awkward, that was ruled out a long time ago. There are two beds in the room, as well as two chairs and two desks. Also, I wouldn't make the darling stay with a stranger, of course, he'll be staying with someone he knows quite well, as will his dear brother.)

Sighing grumpily, Dean threw his pack down on the couch and flopped onto it, scuffing his foot on the jade-green circle carpet before leaning lazily against the back of the couch. "I am just going to hate it here," he muttered.

A commotion came from the room next to him, shouting and a few bangs. Sounds like sparks popping could be heard through the thick walls, and Dean was immediately on his feet and running through his door. The sounds were coming from a pockmarked, dark brown door with a silver handle shaped like a snake's mouth, baring long fangs.

"Is everything okay?" he shouted, rattling the doorknob trying not to cut himself on the sharp, curved fangs.

The sounds paused, then picked back up again with a slight shriek and a hissing. Dean gritted his teeth and rammed his shoulder into the door, knocking it down in one try and storming into the room.

Oh, my, now look at what you've done! Do you ever think about your actions? About how they'll cost this lovely school? Goodness.

When Dean broke down the door, he expected to see some kind of... creature, perhaps with fangs or claws or a strangely formed shadow.

But what he saw was two boys with pale complexions, pointing long, slightly bendy-seeming sticks at a thick python. They were about his age, maybe a bit younger, one with jet-black wild hair and emerald-green eyes, and the other had white-gold hair and extremely pale skin, his eyes a smooth grey.

"W-who are you?" shouted the blonde boy in a slightly rude tone and a thick British accent. He was a bit-- no, more than a bit shorter than the other boy. "We're taking care of this serpent just fine, thank you."

The boy with black hair elbowed his... friend? "Draco, are you a bloody idiot?" He had a matching accent, but his voice was a bit lower and rougher around the edges. "We'll need all the help we can get!"

Dean narrowed his eyes at the python, pulling a switchblade out of his pocket.

The shorter boy-- Draco, was it? His eyes widened at the sight of the knife and he stepped just the tiniest bit closer to the other. "Are you mad?" he asked in a slightly trembling voice. "You can't just pull a knife on this kind of creature! It's--"

"Irrational?" Dean prompted, mocking their accent. "Oh, let me just save your lives in the most unprofessional way possible." He lunged for the snake, grabbing it by the mouth and stabbing the knife through its neck, pinning it to the ground as the blade plunged through its bone and muscle, stabbing right into the floorboards below.

Again, please think about how your actions affect school property! We can't just have bloodstains everywhere, you do understand?

Dean pulled the knife back out and stepped back, watching with grim satisfaction as the snake writhed around, hissing crazily. The two boys watched with apprehension as he turned to glare at them. "Do you have any idea how the snake might have gotten into your room?" he asked, frowning and mentally going over all of the snake-related creatures in his head. It might be a Gorgon, maybe a Pagan god, and of course there were always the more powerful nature elves. Those were a pain to deal with.

The black-haired boy blinked. "Well, of course," he replied simply. "Draco summoned it, really. It wasn't me, I swear! He just went swish with his wand and the serpent appeared." He swallowed, fidgeting with his sleeve.

Draco scowled at the other. "Why do you always throw me under the Night Bus?" he whined, slightly under his breath. He sighed. "Harry, you really are terrible at maintaining a truce, you do realize."

Harry wrinkled his nose at Draco. "Whatever," he muttered, sitting back down on the couch.

Dean raised an eyebrow at the two boys, who had begun to bicker once again. "Summoned?" he echoed dubiously, crossing his arms. They took no notice of him, arguing with their faces less than an inch apart. "Well, then," Dean muttered, walking out of the room and tucking his switchblade back into his pocket.

When he opened the door to his room, however, there was yet another surprise waiting for him, coming in the shape of a very familiar angel sitting on the couch.

Castiel, his blue eyes slightly tired, offered Dean a smile and a wave as the hunter came into the dorm room.

With... wait, were those wings?

Dean's eyes opened wide as he saw two giant wings coming from Castiel's back. His trench coat and black jacket were off, and the wings ripped right through his white shirt. They flopped in somewhat disarray on the couch, a dark, rich raven-black like midnight with undertones of violet and indigo. He was an angel, Dean knew, but he had never imagined his wings would be so... big.

"Cas," Dean breathed, stepping forward and reaching for the wings. Would Cas let him pet them? They looked so soft.

The angel only sent him a short look and twitched them out of his reach, standing up and folding them back. "Dean," he said calmly, standing up.

Dean watched with a half-open mouth as the feathers moved in rhythm with how Castiel walked. "Why-- your wings-- they--" He blinked twice, words seeming to stop working.

Cas sighed, glancing away as if he didn't want to meet Dean's eyes. "I... I know. For some reason, I was not able to come across the border for the school without showing some of my true form. Neither was Gabriel, to my knowledge." He rubbed his arm, looking quite embarrassed.

To my knowledge, there is a very helpful spell in the Fanfae Library that states very clearly how to get magical creatures to show some of their real form. Not that I used the spell, of course. I totally didn't set up all the candles and giggled as I thought of all the chaos this would cause for these idiots.

Of course not!

"Well, I gotta say, I missed your voice," Dean joked, stepping forward and smiling slightly at his friend. "Why'd you come anyway? And wait-- Gabriel is here? I thought he was dead." He frowned again.

Cas shrugged. "Me too." He pressed his wings tightly to his back and put his trench coat up over his wings. It wasn't a perfect disguise, they still looked rather conspicuous. "I don't like showing my wings," he sighed.

Dean nodded slowly. "Why not?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"I... just don't," Cas muttered uncomfortably. He shifted his wings so they were slanted across the couch in a more comfortable position.

"Alright, then," Dean murmured. He stretched, walking to the couch and sitting down next to the angel. "And hey-- is it just me, or is something going on with that six-armed weirdo?" he asked in a hushed voice. "You know... N? Is that faer name?"

Excuse me?! You are the weirdo to me. Is it a crime now, to have more than the 'usual amount' of arms? They are extremely useful, unlike your puny existence. Honestly!

Castiel just frowned. "N is... I've... I haven't heard of faem before." He tilted his head, trying to think.

Dean gazed at his angel for a while in silence, then sat down and nudged Cas. "Hey, it's alright. You don't need to know everything," he affirmed. "It'll be fine, don't worry."

Cas huffed. "I wish I had your confidence sometimes, Dean." He glanced down at the floor, fidgeting with his hands.

Then, the door burst open again and Sam came stumbling in, his wide-eyed and breathless. "Dean!" he yelped, lunging for his brother. "Gabriel-- he-- he's alive! And he has wings! And he's my dormmate, I think? And his wings-- you'll never imagine what they look like, Dean, they're incredible. Wait, is-- that Cas?"

Castiel nodded, raising one wing to show Sam. Sam gaped for a few seconds, looking quite like a fish out of water until Dean waved his hand in front of his brother's face. "Earth to Sammy, dude," he called teasingly.

Sam swatted his hand and shook his head. "Just-- it's just, wow, angel's wings..." he faded off, glancing back at the hallway. "They're really... pretty." He paused, walking into the room, and poking his head back out.

Gabriel padded into the room, four wings spread with a relaxed air. His smile was lopsided, and his hair was mussed up, his head tilted slightly to the side. "Nice to see you again," said Gabriel, nodding to Dean. "How do you do?"

His wings were golden, with streaks and undertones of a deeper, richly hazel brown. Some of the outer flying feathers were laced with pale cream-yellow, and the downy feathers were a darker golden-brown. He had them fluffed up and curled around themselves like he was enjoying showing them off.

Dean glanced over at Gabriel's wings, then back at Cas's. They were still the raven-black shade, ebony dark like midnight. He could see pearlescent lacings interlaid around the upper feathers, now that he looked, and he could even glimpse undertones of emerald green and a deep purple, pale lilac streaking the innermost downy feathers.

Dean decided, as his heart skipped a (totally platonic) beat, that Cas's wings were much prettier.

But that was not what mattered right at that moment, he reminded himself, trying to collect his thoughts. "So, when should we start searching for the missing hunters?" he asked, coughing slightly.

Sam blinked. "Oh, yeah! Well, I was doing some research--"

"Like always," Dean mumbled under his breath with a faint smile.

Sam glared at him. "I was doing some research, and I found that all the hunters disappeared in exactly the same location. Weird, right? So get this-- it was all at exactly 3:00 AM when they disappeared. Nobody knows why, but they all came to this exact spot on school grounds at 3 AM and just... vanished." He paused, shaking his head.

Dean snorted. "So, what, as long as we don't sleepwalk our asses over there we're safe? Got it, Sammy, that's just perfect." He sighed. "Were they under a curse? Another fucking witch, maybe?"

Gabriel sighed quietly, flopping down on the couch with his wings spread wide, Cas also having his wings out and fluffed slightly. He nudged his brother and they exchanged a long look.

Sam hesitated before continuing. "Well, that was my first instinct. But there's no evidence of hex work anywhere. Area's clean, dude. I don't know what to tell you-- no sulfur, no ectoplasm, no hex bags."

"It's as if they just disappeared," Cas muttered, brushing a strand of hair back from his face. "Right?"

Sending him an odd look, Sam nodded. "...yeah, I suppose it is. Why?"

Cas didn't meet their eyes, switching between glancing at Gabriel and the floor instead. "I might have a clue as to what's going on... it's probably nothing, though. It could be a lot of other things."

Dean perked up, glancing over at the angel. "Well, any clues help! Could you... tell us? Like, how to kill it?" Ideas ran through his head like a river stream, about what the creature could be, or how to trap it.

Gabriel whistled, shaking his head. "Nah, man, there's no killing it." He wrinkled his nose. "That is if it's what we think it is. And I desperately hope, ya know, that it's not. Cause if it is, there's nothing we can do." He shrugged, his wings moving with his shoulders. "Mostly because it's like a curse. Not an actual entity."

Frowning, Dean looked at Gabriel. "What is it?" he repeated, more forcefully. "Tell me or I'll beat it out of you, asshole."

"Whooo, that's kind of mean," Gabriel complained, pouting. "Why do you hate me so much?" He leaned lazily back on the couch, his expression comically sad.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Maybe because you were the one who killed me, over and over, back on a particular Tuesday?"

Gabriel snapped, looking pleased. "Oh, yes! I had forgotten about that." He laughed. "One of my prouder tricks."

Sam looked aghast. "I was crying, Gabe," he reminded the archangel.

Wincing, Gabriel clicked his tongue. "Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't mean to take it that far, really. It started out as a practical joke, right." He frowned, but it quickly turned back into a joking smile. "Ah, all's well that ended well. At least you're alive now, right?"

"For now," Dean muttered.

Sam huffed out a laugh. "I suppose we should all say that. Alive for now. Alive and counting down the days till we die again." He leaned against the kitchen counter, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah, maybe. Anyway, what can you tell us, Cas?"

The angel hesitated, his wings curling around him. "Well, whatever it is, it's very powerful. It could be God... which we can, I think, safely rule out. It could be N, of course, but fae was over at another school while the third and fifth disappearances were happening, apparently. So that leaves us..."

"Around a thousand things," Dean finished. "Vampires, genies, djinn, maybe even an angel or two." He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "Looks like we've got a lot of work to do, don't we."