#sr p3

Supernatural High School AU set in the present day based largely around seasons 4 and 5.  Angels and demons alike descend on a small Colorado town where the teenage Winchester brothers recently moved to stay with Bobby, Ellen, and Jo while their father goes on an extended hunting trip.

CH1 [PART 1]  CH1 [PART 2]  CHAPTER ONE [PART 3]:

The day was winding down, most of the teens having piled into cars and headed for home or the summer jobs that would keep them in beer and condoms for the next few months. Dean was sitting on the hood of the Impala, Sam beside him, thin towels the only thing separating them from the scorching heat the black paint has soaked up. Ash laid spread-eagle on the roof, his clothes underneath him; when he'd stepped out of the water with all his bits and pieces showing the other three along with Gabe and some guys had begun pelting him with his own shirt, jeans, and boots over and over, which he tossed back at them, threatening to strip to bare skin if they couldn't handle what he was bringing to the table. Now he lay quiescent, humming a bit. Dean had a weird feeling he was meditating. Which was cool. To each his own.

The nine Palmeiros were slowly gathering together, if he'd finally managed to peg their faces with their last name; Jo was with them, chatting easily, seeming to stay mostly with Anna and Cas though it looked like she and Gabe occasionally exchanged barbs. The guy was kind of annoying. He'd kept popping up out of nowhere and pulling people underwater then would disappear again before anyone could retaliate, showing up behind someone else. Dean had finally barked at him to stop when he'd tugged his own kid sister under one too many times, leaving her choking, but Gabe had just stared with this sly little grin on his face and shrugged his shoulders, then started to talk to Sam about older brothers and their general incapacity to not be dicks before Michael had reprimanded him, sounding like an echo to Dean who heard himself from only a few minutes before. Apparently Sam had, too, judging by the way he'd started laughing. Bitch.

Michael, now, he seemed kind of alright. He was the attention whore of DeChoix High, there was no doubt about that; Dean ran into them in every school and generally pissed them off by stealing their girls. But instead of appearing bothered by the attention diverted to Dean, he seemed almost to welcome it, inviting Dean time and again to talk with him, to sit with him, to eat with him. He wasn't sure what to make of it, honestly. He didn't trust anyone instantly, much less some guy with the inevitable high school jock god complex, and he didn't like the way he'd heard Michael talking to Rafe, Uriah, and Zach. It was more like a drill sergeant than an older brother. And yeah, Dean would be the first to admit sometimes you had to get rough with your kid brother or how else was he going to learn? But he wasn't a dick to Sammy without provocation, and he hadn't been able to figure out why Michael was being so hard on the three of them. Maybe that was just his thing, though. Or a family thing. Uriah and Rafe hadn't exactly been warm and welcoming, to the Winchesters or to anyone else for that matter, and if they were going to be distant and disconnected than maybe Michael was getting through to them the only way he knew how. It was hard to judge.

While he'd been thinking more and more people had slipped away, leaving them, the Palmeiros, and a fringe group Dean vaguely recognized as another family. There was a guy, short and vaguely unimposing, with dark hair and slightly bulging eyes; what stood out about him the most, though, was the giant black dog that was never more than a few feet away from him, even when he'd deigned to get into the water. Really, it was mostly that dog who had kept him from trying to interact with the guy at all; well, that and a general disinterest in the way the dude looked, but whatever. Really, he'd had a bad experience a few years back with a wild dog or wolf or something attacking him when he was out on a hunt, and he'd never fully gotten over it. But a few different guys had elbowed him and pointed out one of the girls, Peg or Meg or something, who was apparently the town crazy bitch, though also reputedly an easy, fantastic lay, if you were brave enough to get past the brother and the dog and the insanity to go there. She caught his eye now and smiled at him, stroking one hand slowly up and down the center of her body, pausing to idly play with her belly ring. Instead of interest, Dean felt disgust skitter up his spine, making him recoil. It was a weird response, one he didn't want to deal with, and so he looked away; for what felt like the thousandth time that day, his eyes collided with a bright, blue gaze, and he found himself studying Cas yet again.

The guy was odd. It was that simple. He seemed kind of socially awkward, always a little on the outside of things, talking without realizing the impact what he was saying was going to have. Dean could sympathize with foot-in-mouth disease; he'd had the symptoms a few times himself. But it went beyond that, bordering on outright blunt unawareness. Shit, even now he wasn't looking away, instead seeming comfortable with staring at Dean as long as Dean was comfortable staring at him. Not that he was; it was making him squirm a little, rolling his shoulders, propping himself higher up on the hood. He wasn't going to be the one to look away first, though; that was weakness, cowardice, or perhaps just an admission of discomfort. Either way, his eyes were glued to Cas's for the duration. And the more he looked at him, the more he saw --- something. There was a sense of knowing, of awareness in the other guy's eyes. Dean felt like he was looking into something ancient, ageless, and a little sad. But he was seventeen by his own admission, the same age as Dean, though actually he had to be at least a few months younger since they were in two different grades. The timelessness was out of place, and that didn't sit well with Dean. Hunter instincts, always with him, kicked in, making him look closer, making him wonder.

He'd felt like that with a few of the Palmeiros over the course of the day, actually. He was more than willing to write it off as no more than them just being a strange family; their dad was a pastor, after all, and they all seemed oddly religious, even Gabriel, stopping to pray before eating, going out of their way not to take the Lord's name, the little one, Rachel, often fingering the cross she wore around her neck. The older guys hadn't turned down a beer, though, Gabe made sexual innuendos and dropped the f-bomb like it was his job, and Anna and Jo had danced along the sand together when a favorite song came on the radio, so they couldn't be all that fundamentalist.

Eh. He'd keep watch on it. Meanwhile, interested to see what would happen, he amped up the heat in his eyes, smiling slowly at Cas, winking, then waiting, waiting ... And there it was, the fumbling awkwardness as Cas blinked, looked away, confusion spreading across his face, his feet slightly stumbling on the rocks.

"Gonna call dibs on him, too?" Sam asked quietly, humor infecting his voice.

"What?" Lost at first, Dean quickly clued in, then scowled. That wasn't something they talked about, something he talked about, not even abstractly and definitely not specific to anybody. With a quick swipe, he knocked Sam's arm out from under him, making him fall back onto the hood with a bang that woke Ash from his meditative state.

"Who's hurtin' the car now, boys?" he asked, flipping to lean face-first over the windshield, his hair, sweaty as well as wet, sticking up at odd angles all over his head. It was a sore subject with him, one that Dean had accidentally broached the day before upon spotting him for the first time in a couple of years. He'd loudly exclaimed, "Dude, no mullet?!" and received two middle fingers in response and rampant laughter from Ellen, Bobby, and Jo; it turned out that he'd lost a bet with Ellen over who The Bachelor was going to pick on the last round of the show and her prize had been to cut off his Kentucky Waterfall under the pretense of merely seeing what he would look like without it. As it turned out he'd just looked weird, and they were all anxiously waiting for him to grow it back out. In the meantime, Bobby had bought him one of those trucker hats with the hair attached in the back, which Ash apparently hadn't realized was a joke and instead wore when he was working on his tech, holding to the fact he couldn't think straight without his Tennessee Tophat on. He did get a lot of work done. Hell, within the space of an hour, sporting his neck toupee, he'd cracked Dean, Sam, and John's phones then set up a program so John could hack in anywhere on his laptop within a few keypunches before their dad had to leave. He could wear the hat all the time if he did the same for Dean; after all, BustyAsianBeauties.com wasn't cheap, and he was getting tired of ruining other people's credit just so he could get his porn. Seemed morally reprehensible, somehow.

"Bite me, Ash," he replied lazily, flipping him off as Sam struggled back to an upright position, making little exclamations when the burning exterior sizzled against his skin. Then all three of them watched with varying levels of interest as the two groups made their way toward them, spreading into a half-circle around the Impala.

Jo hugged Anna and came to sit between Dean and Sam, wrapping an arm around each of them. "Let's go home. I'm starving and Bobby promised he'd make chili for me tonight. Besides, I'm sick of sitting around in wet clothes. Ash smells like feet."

"Uncalled for," came the cry from behind her, followed by an audible sniff. "Correction: fair enough." He slid forward, down the piping hot windshield, to crash into the three of them like a bowling ball smacking a brick wall; Sam was the only one who moved for him and even then it was just because Sam was Sam. Ash continued to slither forward until he tucked into a front roll off the car, arms extended, and came up sitting with his knees cocked, smiling at the group at large. "Howdy."

"Your, um," Rachel said, gesturing at Ash's pelvic area.

"Sweetheart, your penis is showing," Ollie said, grinning as Ash looked down, shrugged, then closed his legs a little.

"So why are we all gathered here today?" Dean asked. "Wait --- " He did a quick head count, then narrowed his eyes. "You don't all need a ride home, do you? Because there are some things my baby just doesn't do and acting like a clown car is one of them. Or a moving kennel." Besides the Impala, there was only one other car in the lot, a mid-sized Prius in a shimmery cornflower blue.

The guy with the monster pet pulled out a set of keys. "We have wheels, darling," he said, depressing the lock button which sent up an audible, cute little beep-beep from the Prius, making Dean snort with laughter.

"Dude, how do you fit that dog in that car? No, actually, how do you talk him into getting into that embarrassment to begin with?" he asked, brow cocked.

"Oh, he's very good at taking orders," the guy said.

Scoffing, Uriah remarked, "Like you aren't."

"And you've got loads of room to talk, do you, big boy?"

There was a snarl, first from Uriah, then from the dog, both of whom were held back, Uriah by Michael and Rafe, the dog by a simple clicking noise from his master. After that things were quiet for a moment, factions silently forming and dissolving, as the four at the Impala watched all of it with interested eyes.

"Dean, have you actually met Charlie yet?" Michael asked suddenly, breaking the mood. Instead of turning to look at him, he kept the demon in his sights, face ever so slightly amused.

Dean smiled. "Not in so many words. I'm Dean Winchester. This's my brother, Sam."

"Charles McCullough. My sisters, Meg and Ruby. And this," Charlie replied, scrubbing his dog's head with a friendly hand, "is Cernunnos."

The dog was still growling, low-level and intense, reverberating through the ground and up the frame of the car into the pit of Dean's stomach. He shifted slightly, ending with his arms hanging off his knees, protecting his center. Charlie caught the movement and smirked, making Dean scowl in response. He didn't like it, didn't like the dog or the way the guy was messing with him, didn't like the undercurrents or the fact some people seemed to be coming on too strong while others weren't coming on at all. Everyone was allowing each other to talk, one at a time, no one splitting off into smaller groups or having side conversations. It was weird.

"No one likes that dog," Jo said to him quietly, watching Charlie and Cernunnos. "It's a dick, just like the guy who owns it."

"Funny thing, I can hear from a distance of three feet away, even if you do mumble in that American hick trawl," Charlie said snarkily, Meg laughing behind him. Ruby took a few steps back, closer to Anna, who blinked and nudged Cas to the side.

Jo blushed, angry and tense; the fact this guy had embarrassed her pissed Dean off, and apparently Sam too as all three of them rose from the hood of the car, Ash likewise standing and brushing off the back of his boxers: a united front that easily formed. "Just because she called you a dick doesn't mean you have to prove her point," he said, stepping forward only to hesitate as the black monster also padded a step forward on dinner-plate paws. His ears were cocked, sharply pointed, and his fur was unrelieved shining black, not a spot of white to be seen. "Fucking demon dog."

All three of the McCulloughs laughed at that, Gabe and Ollie likewise joining in. The tension broke, Charlie and his sisters heading for their car, but not before the guy stopped and winked at Dean who was still pissed but now standing perhaps pointlessly in front of his car. "I like you. This is going to be fun."

"Okay?" Dean replied, confused, but unable to say anything else as Michael and Rafe appearing beside him diverted his attention, leaving the McCulloughs to make their escape. Sam watched Ruby as she gave him a little wave before disappearing into the back seat, the dog beside her; his brother noted it so he could make fun of him later. After all, payback was the Winchester way.

"Do you guys actually hang with that asshole?" he asked of the Palmeiros.

Michael shrugged while Rafe replied, "Their father and ours are old friends. It's part of the reason why we ended up in this town together. But no. We do not hang."

Shoving a hand through his white-gold hair, Michael smiled and changed the subject. "Dean, you should come over to our house for a cookout tomorrow." Before Dean could point out the obvious, he amended, "All four of you, if you wish."

"What do you think, Sammy?" he asked his brother, turning away from Michael a little. He didn't like when people ignored any member of his family, of which Jo and Ash were naturally included, but he especially didn't like anyone overlooking Sam. It was okay when he did it. And that was about it.

Sam considered for a moment, making Dean proud with his cool, take-no-shit face. Sometimes the kid was too nice, but he knew when to strap on and keep from letting people walk all over him. "We'll talk to Ellen and Bobby, see what they have planned, and get back to you," he said. "Guys, are we ready to leave?"

"Yup. Jo?"

"Sure am. Ash?"

"Hell yes! I hear there's Bobby's chili at the other end of this ride. Always ready for Bobby's chili." Ash cocked his thumb, pointed his finger, and sent an invisible bullet speeding at the Palmeiro brothers. "Catch y'all later."

They turned and began to get in the Impala, Jo waving to Anna before starting to rib Sam about having to sleep outside after eating their bean-filled dinner, Ash making it totally inside the car before his almost-bare ass met the hot interior and he got back out to tug his clothes on. Dean opened the driver's door and paused, looking back. The Palmeiro brothers had melted in with the rest of their family, Michael talking, everyone seeming to listen intently, except Gabe of course who was dancing behind Ollie, distracting him, and Cas. Cas's body was turned toward the group but his head was angled at Dean, eyes a rich, deep blue, slightly chapped lips set in a firm line. Dean started to smile at him again but something in the other guy's face made him stop; the seriousness of it, maybe, or the fact that his head slightly tilted, as if he was confused but trying to relate the best he could, like a puppy. So he just shook his own head, shrugged a little, not really sure what he was replying to, not really sure what he was saying, simply knowing that he was having silent conversations with someone he'd just met and was helpless to stop.

Then he got in his car, cranked the Zep, and drove off.

Michael stood with Rafe after the rest of his brothers and sisters had disappeared, ostensibly to walk home through the woods, actually to teleport there. But they'd been careful to implant a remembrance that the Palmeiro father preferred not to use cars, believing them to be bad for the environment and a waste of money, and so his children walked everywhere, all over town. It was easier that way.

"That did not go as expected," Rafe commented dryly, his tone as always flat and hard.

"No. It didn't. I attempted to isolate him too soon. I expected him to gravitate more easily toward the popular crowd. Instead it seems he prefers to be on the fringes. King of the rebels, much like Gabriel."

"It does not suit our plans."

"Plans can change."

"They are buying his soul even as we speak. You know what is coming."

"So let it come." Michael rolled his shoulders and repositioned, feet braced against the hard earth, cognizant of what lied below, trapped in his own personal hell yet still powerful for all that. "One way or another, we're going to win this. We're going to take this screwed up hunk of world and fix it. Remake it in our image."