Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Sam wasn’t stupid enough to be excited for his first day at a new school, but he had to admit he was glad he wasn’t a freshman any longer. Sophomore year had to be better than the disaster that was his freshman one, right? His heart ached a little when he thought about what, and more specifically who, he had been forced to move away from over the summer. He was still what Dean had come to call “a slightly pathetic and scrawny lovesick doofus”, but even Dean’s relentless teasing didn’t make him feel any less sappy and guilty about having to leave Jess behind and haul ass to freaking rural Minnesota of all places. He quickly snapped back into reality when he heard the sound of the bus rumbling to a stop and looked to see pretty much exactly what he had expected.

A somewhat large, slightly crumbling brick building that he was sure has yellow lighting and barely functioning AC on the inside proclaimed itself “Lakeview Park High School”. School, sweet school he thought darkly to himself. I guess there’s only one way to find out how much different school is gonna be without Dean going all “mama bear” every ten seconds he thought, smirking for a second as he stepped off the bus and walked towards the school.

That’s another benefit to sophomore year. While he’d never admit it to Dean, because he knows it’d hurt his feelings, he was kind of glad that Dean wouldn’t be at school with Sam for the first time ever. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around Dean —he’s basically the only friend I’ve got Sam thought as he quickly looked for the office to hand in his registration paperwork— He was just glad for a place where he could be the true academic fiend he was without the constant apprehensive looks he got from his brother. He knew Dean just wanted to protect him from the future, the one future where he actually gets into a good college with a full ride, and can be free from the “family business” that has his dad running around the country. He knows Dean just wants the only family he’s got to stick together, to a point where he will side with their father when it comes to Sam's future if he has to. It hurts, and he wishes Dean understood why he needs to get out, but he doesn’t, and that’s just the way it is. Shaking himself back into what his dad calls “the land of the living”, Sam stepped up to the front office with his papers in hand.

“Hi, I’m Sam Winchester, I’m here to turn in my registration form, and get my schedule?” He said quickly to the kind looking woman at the front desk who’s name plate proclaimed her Missouri Moseley.

“Of course!” She said sweetly, “I’ve been expecting you, I already have the schedule printed and ready to go.” She handed him the schedule and took the form from him with a smile. “You're one of John Winchester’s boys?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“ Yes ma’am.” He replied somewhat cautiously, as this conversation could now be straying towards the uncomfortable questions territory. She just nodded her head with an unreadable expression on her face before speaking again.

“Your schedule has all the required courses along with the two electives you requested. You will have two weeks to drop or change classes before the schedule is finalized for the semester. Your locker number and code is at the bottom of the sheet. Come to me if you have any questions, Okay?”

“Yes ma’a-”

“And no need to call me ma’am, Missouri is just fine.” She said with another soft smile. Sam couldn't help but smile back before nodding and heading out of the office.

After leaving the office, Sam quickly checked his watch and was relieved to see he still had about 15 minutes before the bell rang, so he’d hopefully have time to find his locker and look through his schedule before making his way to his first class. He looked at the lockers on the wall and noticed they all began with the number one, and his number was 204 so he figured that meant he’d have to make his way upstairs. Luckily, he quickly found a staircase and strode up, two steps at a time, while looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings and faces. He found his locker with minimal difficulty, and unlocked it on the first try. He opened it to find it hadn't quite been emptied out from the last school year. He found a poster of a bikini-clad woman he was sure Dean would approve of taped to the door, and about 25 candy wrappers scattered around the small metal box. He sighed and started sweeping out the wrappers and stuffing them in his pockets, hoping he’d be able to find a trash can before class. He was just reaching for the poster when a voice came from behind him.

“Uhhh what are you doing with my locker?! I like that poster and I had an emotional attachment to those candy wrappers.” Sam stiffened and turned around to see a boy staring up at him with his eyebrows raised and questioning look on his face.

Sam's eyes widened. Of course, not only has he already apparently messed up, but he’d also gone and messed up in front of probably the most adorable guy he’d ever seen. Oh brother, don’t go all loverboy said a warning voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Dean. The boy that was looking up at him looked a little older than him, but he was much shorter. He had dirty blonde hair that went every which way and was almost as long as Sams. He was wearing a purple shirt that said “beware of the dog” with a picture of a cartoon puppy on it. All of that combined would have made him cuter than average, but what made him just…wow levels of pretty was his eyes. They were a light brown that was almost amber, and they sparked with humor as he continued to wait for Sam to answer.

“I Uhhhh…am sorry?” Wow, flawless recovery buddy the voice in his head said, and Sam could practically see the wince that Dean's face would be making right now right now as his face reddened from embarrassment.

The boy just snorted and said “You new here kiddo? I don’t recognize you and you obviously aren’t aware of the locker rules, but you don’t look like a freshman.” As he said the last part, his eyes traveled up and down Sam as if to prove his point, and Sam had to resist the urge to stand straighter under his gaze.

“Um yeah I am new…a sophomore, and uh locker rules?”

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“Hey new kid! Gabriel Novak at your service.” The boy said with a dramatic little bow that made Sam want to roll his eyes, “I’d tell you the ever so sacred locker rules, but I don’t even know your name yet…” he prompted with a questioning look and a smirk.

“Sam Winchester.” At your service he finished in his head, but he kept that part to himself as he looked down at Gabriel. “Nice to meet you… I guess. Want to explain why I apparently broke into your ‘sacred locker’ now?” He said with what he hoped wasn’t too sarcastic of a tone.

“The pleasure’s all my Sammich.” Gabriel replied with a wide grin that Sam thought must hurt his face, “Anyways, sacred locker rules state that only the upperclassman, and those cool enough to trick the upperclassman into giving them one,” he added with a wink, “get lockers on the second floor. As I am now both a junior AND a trickster this locker here is my natural born right.” He finished, reaching over Sam to pet the locker longingly while shaking his head. Sam didn’t know how to respond to the weirdness of that, but at least now he knew where the mixup had happened. Why all schools seemed to have weird unspoken rules among the students will never cease to be a mystery to Sam, but at least Gabriel told him this rule before he made any more apparently obvious and avoidable mistakes.

“Okay…I’m not gonna fight with you over this locker,” because you seem to have an unhealthy attachment to it, his brain added, “but where would said underclassmen go to find another locker?”

“A valiant question, dearest Samual.” Seriously, was this guy a theater kid or something? “Luckily I’m nice, and you're tall enough to pass as a junior.” he added, once again looking Sam up and down. “I happen to know of a locker that’s available right…here.” He said as he reached down to the locker directly beneath his, and began fiddling with the lock. “Code is 4-20-6-9” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Locker combos only have three digits.”

“Oh I know, I modified this lock myself!” and sure enough, the lock popped open as he entered in the last number. More candy wrappers and what looked like a rubber rat tumbled out of the locker as he wrenched it open. “Okay yeah, I was planning on hoarding 2 lockers, but how can I say no to those sweet-sweet puppy eyes.” He admitted with another wink. Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being picked on. Okay sure, teasing seemed to be Gabriel’s go-to, but the fact that this guy was almost flirting with him made him feel exposed. How does he know? his ever unhelpful brain supplied as he looked down at the pretty boy with the bright eyes and huge smile.

“Thanks Gabe. For the locker I mean.” He added somewhat unnecessarily as Gabriel began to sweep out the remaining wrappers to stuff them into the top locker.

“Oooh nickname status already Sammo! I’m honored.” He said with bright eyes as he precariously positioned the rubber rat in his top locker so that it would fall out the next time it was opened. Sam reddened for what seemed like the tenth time as he realized his mistake. He hadn’t meant to let the shortened name slip, but he figured Gabriel’s repeated and intentional debauchery of the name Sam had inspired it. He chose to ignore Gabe’s comment and instead looked down at his schedule. He frowned down at it, but tried to quickly change his expression when he noticed Gabe looking at him.

“Ewww algebra 2 first period? That’s rough buddy.” He said, shaking his head after looking over Sam’s shoulder.

“That’s not the problem. I already took advanced algebra, and I’m pretty sure those are the same thing. I was supposed to be in pre-calc.”

“You got the brains and the brawn huh? You're like the full package. I will say that from what I’ve seen from my brother’s homework, pre-calc is just about as disgusting and terrible as you can imagine, so maybe take this as a sign from god.” He snorted as if the last sentence was some kind of inside joke.

“I don’t know, it’s not like I can’t use the review…” Sam said, more to himself than Gabe. We all know you weren’t focusing on math last semester, too busy being a lovesick nightmare. said another annoying Dean-like voice in his head.

“Welp, as much as I would love to watch you navigate the hellscape that is Lakeview Park, I gotta go pretend to pay attention in class, because I’ve already gotten a warning from the principal on the first day!” And with that, he practically skipped down the hall and out of sight, probably to go harass some other unsuspecting strangers.

Algebra 2 turned out to be a lot of things Sam KNOWS he went over last year, but he just can’t remember how to do like 75% of his worksheet, so he figures being stuck in this class isn’t the worst possible outcome. Plus it wasn’t like he was the only sophomore there. Apparently the class was all sophomores, other than 3 bored looking juniors, and one freshman girl with red hair and a slightly frantic looking expression. He was seated next to her, and during roll call, when the teacher said her name, she was quick to respond with “Um I actually go by Charlie.” Luckily the teacher wasn’t a douchebag and corrected his mistake instead of using the old name.

Charlie was the only reason he was able to finish his worksheet, because she actually knew what she was doing. Sam supposed that’s how she made it into this class, and he was willing to take her help, as he really didn’t want to have to deal with math homework on his first day. She turned out to be super chatty, but she’d say the occasional thing that reminded him of Dean, so she was cool in Sam’s book.

“I see you have Honors English 10 next period.” She said after finishing her work and looking down at his schedule. “Freshman aren’t allowed so obviously I’m not in it, but one of my good friends is, and since you’re new here, if you don’t have anyone to eat with at lunch you should sit with us!” She said all this a little louder than Sam would’ve liked, but he’d take any opportunity to not have to sit alone.

“Um… sure.” Was his beautifully graceful response. Luckily the bell rang before he had any time to be embarrassed.

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Sam had a lot to think about on his way to English. Namely how he had already managed to make a friend out of Charlie and how he won’t have to sit alone for lunch, which he is immensely grateful for. For some reason though, his mind keeps wandering to the pretty boy with amber eyes and a playful smirk who apparently had a problem with sugar consumption. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry with himself, and he really didn’t want to unpack why that was right now, but his brain has a habit of misbehaving and thinking about whatever it is he’s avoiding, so here he was.

Sam knows he likes boys just as much as girls (without a preference for either), that’s not new, and while that is already a fact he’s accepted, that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. He hates being different, and this is just another thing that sets him apart from everyone else. He’s already the quiet nerdy kid who moves around a lot and keeps a switchblade in his pocket, he doesn’t want to add “and has a thing for dudes” on top of that. That’s partially why he’s never told anyone, not even Dean, who he trusts with his life. He doesn’t want to be any more of a burden to his brother in any way, he already knows that Dean isn’t reaching his full potential simply because he wants to “stay and take care of Sammy”. He won’t be more of a disappointment to his dad either, almost impressive that you can still manage that he thought darkly as he made it down the stairs to what was labeled “the literature hallway”.

The other reason that getting flustered around Gabriel bothered him is because he feels like it’s a disservice to Jess to do that. It’s not like I can control how I feel the somewhat logical part of his brain provides, but it doesn’t push that lingering guilt away. He loved Jess, probably still does if that stabby feeling in his chest is any indication, and he was actually able to be with her, even if it was just for a short while. Jess was one of the few people in his life that he had felt an immediate connection to, and he had been able to get together with her without hiding from himself or his family. The pain of leaving her is still fresh, so the fact he could even look at someone else in that way made him feel dirty. He shook himself out of the pity party in his mind as he stepped into what he hoped was the correct classroom.

The blackboard with “Honors English Literature” scrawled across it confirmed his hopes that he was in the right place, and there didn’t seem to be a seating chart so his next goal was to scope out a spot. He chose an empty spot near the back behind a dark haired boy, who he was pretty sure was wearing a trench coat, which he didn’t know how to feel about, so he shifted his attention to his new teacher as the bell rang.

“Welcome to honors English 10 everybody, my name is Miss Milton. You’ll see a packet of paper on your desk…that is the rubric, as well as the reading list along with the corresponding schedule, I will expect you all to have the book checked out from the library or purchased at least a day before it appears on your schedule.” That’s a lot of trips to the library he reflected as he flipped through the packet. At least some of the books were things he hadn’t read yet. He wasn’t so lucky with Romeo and Juliet , this would be his third time reading it for class, but he saw some others that he’d always had the intention to read, such as The Importance Of Being Earnest. He almost laughed to himself when he tried to imagine Dean’s face if he found out Sam was excited for his required reading. This class and his government class were the ones he was looking forward to the most. Too bad gov wasn't until after lunch.

The rest of English went by too fast in his humble opinion, mostly because he was dreading the class after it. It’s not like he’s particularly bad at PE, keeping fit for hunting tends to help him, but he doesn’t want to stick out. If he’s too good, the coach will want him to try out for basketball or something, and with what he already knows will be an insane amount of homework along with the occasional helping Dean and his dad on nearby hunts, he just doesn’t have the time or energy for that. If he puts in too little effort however, he’ll probably get picked on, or at least resented because everyone can probably tell when he's not trying his best. Luckily today was just an introduction and then a couple laps around the track, so he didn’t feel like he had to act his way through gym class. After the short run though, he was glad that lunch was next because he was ready for a physical and educational break. He would say an emotional break too, but he never gets a break from those.

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After a bit of a struggle with the school’s signage (why were the signs always more confusing than they were helpful?!), Sam found his way to the lunchroom. As he was being served a blob of unappetizing brown meat-mush he would bet his life savings came from a can (he made a mental note to pack a lunch from now on), he began looking around the cafeteria. Surprisingly, it was pretty full. Lakeview park was a pretty small school, so Sam figured there must only be one lunch period, otherwise there wouldn’t be quite so many people here at once. He didn’t immediately see Charlie in the rows and rows of tables, which was beginning to stress him out. It would have been one thing to sit alone before meeting Charlie, but now with the invitation to sit with her and her friend, if she blew him off, sitting alone would sting all the more. As he slapped $1.50 on the counter and began reaching for a drink, he saw a suspiciously Gabriel-like figure sneaking extra chocolate milk cartons down his shirt for what Sam could only assume was for himself because that seemed like a Gabe thing to do from what he gleaned from their 5 minute conversation earlier that day. The boy suddenly looked back and winked, with a finger pressed to his lips for a moment before he scampered off, almost running to catch up to a girl with sleek black hair. Sophomore year might just kill me if he keeps popping up Sam thought as he began walking through the lunch room while blushing violently. Luckily he was knocked out of his reverie when he heard a sudden squeal of “Sam!”

Charlie was waving over Sam by the end of the cafeteria leaned against the wall with a lunchbox in hand next to the dark haired boy in a trench coat he recognized from his English class. He privately wondered if Charlie was always so ecstatic or if it was just a case of the first day of school jitters as he walked toward the pair. They both sat down with their backs against the wall as he approached, so he did the same, making sure to carefully balance his food tray on his criss crossed legs.

“As you're about to discover, the food here is disgusting.” The dark haired boy said dryly as Charlie looked at Sam's tray wrinkling her nose.

“Good thing I had Cas here to warn me about the food. The only good thing here is the chocolate milk” Charlie replied, patting who he guessed was Cas on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I saw some kid smuggling some down his shirt on the way here” Sam said, laughing. Charlie giggled and Cas gave a small smile, which considering the fact that Sam hadn’t seen his expression change at all throughout the entirety of English, he figured that was Cas’ equivalent to uproarious laughter. “Sam Winchester, we have English together.” He supplied as he held out his hand.

“Castiel Novak, and I know.” He replied, shaking hands with Sam.

“You two are the most formal teenagers I’ve ever seen” Charlie teased, as she looked between the two. Sam supposed she was right, but he just felt from what he new about Cas, he’d appreciate a handsha—

“Wait Novak? Like Gabriel Novak?” Sam asked, tilting his head. Cas rolled his eyes and Charlie again began laughing even before Cas replied.

“Yes, unfortunately the two of us share the same parents… in other words-he’s my brother.”

“I see you’ve already met the trickster then, ey?” Charlie quipped as Sam processed Cas’ response.

“Yeah, he was the one stealing the chocolate milk.” Sam said, raising an eyebrow as Cas groaned.

“I should have guessed, that does sound like Gabriel.” Cas said, shaking his head.

They don’t look alike, act alike, or even talk alike Sam thought to himself as he said “Are you sure you two are related?”

“I am younger and therefore was not present at his birth, so I suppose I can never be sure if he was swapped out at birth or something of that nature, but unfortunately for me, we were raised together in the same family.” Cas replied slowly.

“Oh.” Sam said before Charlie began laughing for what felt like the thousandth time.

“You two are like the exact same amount of nerdy awkwardness!” She wheezed.

“You are one to talk, miss ‘skipped a grade’!” Cas retorted, using his fingers to indicate air quotes.

Charlie reddened before nearly yelling “You tested out of math!” Back at Cas.

“Okay, Okay, before we have a nerd-off, you skipped a grade?” Sam asked, looking at Charlie.

“Yeah, that’s how we know each other. Charlie is technically the same age as my sister Hannah, who she has a perpetual crush on, and if I’m not mistaken, is the only reason she actually agreed to skip a grade in the first place—to impress my sister.” Cas said before Charlie could reply. She somehow turned an even brighter shade of red, and if Sam wasn’t mistaken, he felt like he could see the slightest hint of a smug smirk on Cas’ face. Maybe he and his brother are more similar than I thought. Sam quickly concluded.

The rest of the lunch went good, even though it was mostly Charlie and Cas squabbling while Sam became their moderator. Oddly enough, even though he was in between two relative strangers who were arguing, he felt more comfortable with the two of them than he had in a long time. The fact that Charlie was crushing on a girl hadn’t been lost on him either, and that alone put him at ease somewhat, even if to the average person that may seem strange. If he was being entirely honest, he doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who was so openly queer. He couldn’t tell if it made him happy or jealous, so he figured it was probably some combination of the two. Both Cas and Charlie were so unapologetically themselves, Cas with the trenchcoat and Charlie with the witty banter that somehow had an unlimited amount of LOTR references in it. He was admittedly a little sad when lunch ended, even though it meant he got to start the AP Gov class that he’d been looking forward to all day

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AP gov was pretty much what Sam had expected. Although they hadn’t really gotten to the learning part yet, his class got to spend the period looking over the syllabus and schedule and Sam was super excited for what he saw in the upcoming curriculum. The Teacher, Mr Frank Devreaux (“just Frank is fine jeez”) seemed brilliant, but also paranoid and extremely grumpy. Early on in the class, he began complaining loudly to the TA (a senior named Ruby), wondering out loud why she’d TA for this class if she barely passed the first time through. Ruby just smirked and told him that if he wasn’t such a stickler for due dates, she woulda been top of his class due to her success with in class debates alone. Considering she could hold her own against Frank, Sam had no doubt that she was telling the truth, and made a mental note to not get on her bad side. 

Gov went by too fast for Sam, most likely because intro to art was next on the roster and Sam would be lying if he said he wasn’t dreading it. Art in itself wasn’t the issue, it was mostly his need to blend in. Sketching was one of his main escapes from the hunter life, the notepad he hid under the bed chock full of artwork was proof of that, but his drawings of monsters and gore tended to bring unwanted attention. We are not having a repeat of 8th grade he thought darkly-recalling the time his teacher had called home to John while he was away on a hunt to report a “concerning pattern in your son's artwork”. John, of course, wasn’t home to get the call, but the teacher wouldn’t take no for an answer and kept calling. Sam and Dean narrowly avoided a CPS wellness check by having John rush to the school to meet with Mrs what's-her-face in person. After the meeting, John had come back to the motel bitter and spiteful.

“The reason I had to abandon a hunt was to talk about some fuckin’ scratches on a piece of paper?! Stop bein’ so goddamn fragile, and learn to man up. It’s about time you figure out how to move on instead of bringing attention to yourself with painted pictures of the very monsters I risk my life every day to protect you from! Find a better way to get your emotions out, have Dean take you to the shooting range again or some shit instead of ‘drawing your feelings’ like some fag. Of fuckin’ course you chose the least practical way to utilize your skills instead of sparring with your brother or reading lore so you can actually be useful.” 

Having John Winchester lecture him on how to “move on” and “deal with his emotions” as an alcoholic who is obsessed with a monster he’ll never catch was something that probably surpasses ironic, but nonetheless, it was an argument that Sam would like to avoid, so muddy colors and shitty skribbles is what he was going to stick with. 

Walking into the room, he settled into the nearest empty table and slouched down in order to make himself invisible. Unfortunately, at his height, that feat was not only likely to be impossible, but also extremely uncomfortable as he quickly realized, so he resorted to sitting back up. It was just his ever terrible luck that as he sat up, he caught the eye of none other than Gabriel as he was entering the room. Gabe’s face visibly perked up and he made a beeline for Sam’s table. And I was doing so well too, I hadn’t even thought about him all afternoon. Sam thought to himself miserably as the boy smiled (or maybe leered was a better word) and seated himself directly across from him. Gabe opened his mouth to talk—but was promptly cut off by the teacher. Sam began to thank every known deity he could name as the teacher began talking. He started to zone out until he heard “today we’re gonna start with a charcoal piece of a mythical being of your choice, you will have the rest of the week to complete it, so take your time with the shadows and values.”

Sam didn’t know how to feel. He could try to half-ass it and turn in a shitty drawing of a unicorn or something, but if it was going to take up the rest of the week's work time, he figured his teacher wouldn’t let him get away with a quick sloppy sketch. Plus drawing a monster during what the teacher had proclaimed “the mythical and imaginary unit” wasn’t likely to bring any unwanted attention. It was easy to pick a creature really, as his father had just come back from hunting a hydra, which even Sam had to admit was extraordinarily badass. As he began to sketch out the many headed serpent, he began to feel eyes on him. Looking up he saw Gabriel staring at his drawing with raised eyebrows.

“You really are a nerd huh, I figured you were when I saw you sit with my baby bro, but this just confirms my fears.” Gabe started with a mock shudder, “Didn’t take you for a Greek mythology guy though, I’ve always been more of a Norse fan myself—much cooler and less nerdy.” he drawled, “which is why I’m going to draw the best mythological being and my personal inspiration… Loki!” he finished this announcement with dramatic jazz hands before he reached for a rack of paints.

“You know that Miss Parker said that this is supposed to be a charcoal piece right?” Sam replied, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. 

“Oh I know Sam-a-lam, but you can’t just draw the god of mischief without breaking the rules a little.” He responded with a wink as he began squeezing ridiculous amounts of multicolored paint all over his paper. He then essentially fingerpainted rainbow colors for the rest of the hour as Sam tried his hardest to focus on his own work. Sam sort of hoped that what Gabriel was working on was just the background for his piece, but he had to admit it would be funny if he turned in a fingerpainting of the kindergarten variety for his high school charcoal project. 

By the end of the hour, Gabriel had possibly more paint on himself than on paper. As Sam was washing the charcoal dust from underneath his fingernails, he couldn’t help but let out an amused breath at the paint filled water in the sink across from him. He considered not telling Gabe about the dot of green paint on his nose (he was trying not to think about it, but it was kinda adorable), but the obsessive urge to make conversation paired with the fact that Sam had nothing to talk about forced Sam to say “You have paint on your face.” While pointing to Gabriels nose.

“Oh thanks!” Gabriel chuckled, and proceeded to wipe under his right eye.

“No, you missed it, it’s like right here.” Sam said, gesturing to the nose on his own face to hopefully give Gabe a better picture of the location of the smudge. 

“Ohhhh okay!” He replied with a smile. Before Sam could react, Gabriel then reached across the sink, grabbed Sam's face with one hand and swiped his thumb across the bridge of his nose. Sam felt his face heat as he smacked Gabe’s hand away, giving him a scowl that Dean often called his “bitchface”, while trying to find a suitable response to whatever the hell just happened. Gabe just laughed and turned out of the room, paint still all over his nose. 

Chapter Text

Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t stay standing in the art room by the sinks for an embarrassingly long time. By the time he unfroze his feet and kicked his ass into gear, the class was empty and Miss Parker was giving him an uncomfortably knowing smile, so he hightailed it out the room to the school library. 

Technically, because his last hour was a free period, he could leave school early, but there was no use leaving school for an empty motel room. Plus, he’d have to walk, and if Dean and their Dad found out he had a free hour, he’d be expected to walk “home” early every day, and he did actually intend to use the hour to do homework once he was actually assigned some. For now though, he scoped out the school library to see if it had a nice book selection and any potential study areas. 

The library was pretty small, as expected, but surprisingly empty (at least to Sam, he doesn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to hang in a library). The best part though, was this old bookshelf chock-full of classics that looked like something out of uncle Bobby's crowded house. The bookshelf was at an odd angle in a corner, where there was just enough room to slip behind it. It had light peeking over the top of the shelf, and there was one of those old stepping stools next to a wooden crate as a makeshift table and chair. It was dusty as all hell though, and Sam was both grateful for the fact that it looked like nobody had found this spot in at least 15 years, and for the fact he didn’t have a dust allergy. Sam didn’t think this would be a great everyday study spot because even just imagining hunching over that crate for any amount of time is making his back ache, but he made sure this spot was in his mind for future reference. In Sam’s school experience, he’s always found it a good idea to have a good place to hide, from humans or otherwise.

The rest of the library was pretty unremarkable, save for the desks in the back, one notably with an IBM computer. Sam guessed this was where he’d be spending the majority of his free time, and hoped that the computer would have an internet connection, because the internet was an ever growing resource for young hunters that his father just couldn’t figure out. And god knows we can’t afford a laptop he thought to himself. He wished that hunting didn’t keep infiltrating his brain on the first day of school, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think that he could completely separate his home life from his education. The computer seemed to have internet access hallelujah, but he didn’t have a ton of time to explore because as he was pulling up a search engine the bell rang. 

He pulled his backpack over his shoulders and began sauntering down the hall to the exit, reflecting on his day. Overall not terrible was the consensus and Sam could live with that. His bus ride was pretty short, but long enough that he was glad he didn’t have to walk all the way. He tried not to dread the empty motel room as he was dropped off, but he could already see the peeling building from where he was, so there was really no use in dragging his feet. As he walked up though, he saw a familiar shiny black car in the lot and practically broke into a sprint. He flung the door open to the smiling face of his brother, and immediately pulled him into a hug. 

“Ow Jesus Sammy, watch the ribs!” Dean said, even though he hugged back just as hard.

“I wasn’t expecting you for another 3 days at least!” Sam replied after finally letting go to flop down into one of the questionably creaky armchairs.

“Well yeah, but I wanted to hear about your first day of school…”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

 “Okay fine, Dad said he’d finish off the hunt on his own.” Dean muttered. Sam pretended he couldn’t see the hurt In his brothers eyes as he said this, choosing instead to focus on the fact that my brother is home my brother is home my brother is home my br-

“Oh and by the way you have a green dick painted on the back of your shirt.” Dean snickered.

Fucking Gaberiel Novak.

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Considering how much he’d been dreading it, the intro to Gabriel Novak’s Junior year couldn’t have gone any smoother. He managed to avoid expulsion, sneak extra chocolate milk, AND get back on good terms with his frenemy Kali. There was also, of course, Sam Winchester. It was as if God himself had created the adorkable teen just for him to, as his father used to put it, “struggle with same-sex attraction”. He knew from the moment he looked him up and down that it’d be impossible to resist the urge to tease him any chance he got. Cassie often liked to remind him that teasing and pranks were obviously just “your way of deflecting the need to process what you're actually feeling”, but ignoring his little bro was something he was talented at, so he just decided he’d continue to do that. 

The green paint was a stroke ( haha stroke—a paint AND sex pun) of genius that he hoped wasn’t too far, but the look on the unfairly tall teens face the next morning was worth it. If looks could kill, Gabe would be a pile of ash. He appeared to be going with the silent treatment route as he went to unlock the locker below Gabe’s. 

“It is far too early in the morning for you to be wielding a bitchface of epic proportions like that dear Samwise.” He choked out when his own raucous laughter finally died down after he opened his locker above Sam’s head and the rubber rat fell out and bounced off the boy’s head with a squeak. Sam then did about the last thing Gabe expected by grabbing the rat and throwing it clear across the hallway directly into a trash can.

 “Goddamn Sammy! That had to have been at least a half court shot, what other tricks do you have up your flannel-clad sleeves!” Was the only coherent sentence he could get out. 

Sam turned around, and Gabe’s smile faded. Sam looked slightly red in the face, which would have been adorable if it was from embarrassment, but it appeared to be from anger. “First off—it’s Sam” (he’d never corrected him over any other nickname) “Secondly, what makes you think you have the right to torment me? You see the stringy new kid and decide he’s bullying material or something?!”

“Woah woah, slow your roll there buddy. I pick on everyone, literally all my friends—or all the cute ones at least.” he tacked that part on with a wink to lighten the mood, but Sam seemed to straighten and go slightly pale at that, so he hastily continued, “Seriously I’ll back off if you want me to, but I will warn you, that means you’ll have to watch me mope around every morning by the lockers and every afternoon in art class, because a trickster without his tricks is a sad, sad man.”

Sam seemed confused, and slightly apprehensive, but he sighed before saying “Whatever…I guess, just fail to mention the rubber rat trick shot I just performed to the gym teacher will you? I hate basketball.” He said before spinning around and practically hightailing it out the hallway.

Now Gabriel was the confused one.

The rest of the week went by smoothly, but Gabriel did lay off the pranks a little bit. He still used progressively more ridiculous nicknames, but remained mostly observational when it came to Sam. He began to have the feeling that the pretty teen had much more to him than initially met the eye, and he didn’t want to push enough buttons to make Sam run off. After Cas caught him daydreaming on the bus on Friday, and looked at him with that weirdly calculating head tilt expression he has, Gabe remembered with a jolt that Cas actually interacted with Sam on a daily basis, and could be his fellow detective to help solve the mystery that was Sam.

 “Hey Cassie-what do you know about Sam Winchester?” He asked in a hopefully uninterested sounding tone of voice (From Cassie’s eyebrow raise, it didn’t appear he pulled that off)

“Why? Wait-Charlie mentioned something about You, Sam, and a rubber rat, please tell me this does not have to do with that.”

Gabe proceeded to choke on nothing. “What…Noooo…I just wondered if you knew anything about him because I wanna make sure he’s cool enough to hang out with my baby bro!” Cas again seemed unconvinced, but answered anyway.

“Truth be told, I know very little about Sam. To be fair I’ve only been acquainted with him for a week, but I get the impression that he’s not what you’d call the ‘sharing and caring type.’” He did his little airquote thing with his hands before he continued, “ All I can really tell you is that he usually rides the bus, but I saw someone picking him up from school yesterday who certainly didn’t look old enough to be his father. My guess is that it’s his brother. Whenever I’ve talked to Sam for any more than five minutes, he almost always brings up his older brother Dean.”

“Dean, huh? Guessing you’ve never seen him around here or anything? If they just moved here that’d make sense.” 

“No, he wasn’t familiar to me, I certainly would have recognized him if he was.”

Gabe waggled his eyebrows, “Why is that Cassie?”

“I know what you're insinuating and I don’t appreciate it, I will have you know that I would’ve recognized him simply because he drives this vehicle that looks like it belongs in a car show.” Cas replied grumpily, crossing his arms, but the tips of his ears were a telltale pink. Gabe filed that information away for teasing material later, but he had to focus on the task at hand. 

“Wait… is it a black, sleek looking Chevy? One that if you saw in an alley, you’d turn the other way?”

“Yeah?”

“Saw it in the parking lot at the motel. You don’t think…” 

Cas’s eyes widened at the insinuation. They spent the rest of the bus ride home in silence. 

Gabe worked as a janitor part time at the shoddy Sunni-side ( they couldn’t even spell it right ) motel that was in the shadier side of town. The only reason he still worked there was because they ignored child labor laws and let him work overnight for extra pay. There were some downsides to the job (last year's prom season was terrible-the amount of his classmates that rented out rooms he had to clean- ew ) but realizing that the cute nerdy kid that he’d been acting like a fool around might be living there had to be the worst one yet. One, because just thinking of the puppy-eyed kid living out of a motel was heartbreaking, but Two, because he worked there, so the likelihood of running into Sam was high, he was surprised it hadn’t happened already. If Sam “isn’t the sharing and caring type” like Cas had said, the likelihood that he’ll be okay with Gabe knowing about his living situation is slim. Luckily he didn’t have his next shift till Sunday, but he needed to make a game plan on what to do if Sam spots him. 

After making it off the bus and onto the front porch, his plan-making was quickly pushed to the side as he heard muffled yelling from inside the house. 

“Mike and Luke started early tonight huh?” He quipped to Cas before bracing for the onslaught of words he’d inevitably hear once he unlocked the door. 

It was the usual argument, or at least the one topic that all of his older brothers rows inevitably went back to. Dad really had to fuck off and leave Mikey in charge huh he thought darkly to himself as he and Cas quickly slipped upstairs. A weekend of full happiness and cheer seemed to be in store for Gabe.

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Sam was ready for the weekend. Not that school was particularly bad or anything—in fact, as far as schools go, Lakeview park wasn’t half bad for a small town. He had friends somehow, Gabe had calmed down with the relentless pranks after what Charlie now referred to as “the rat incident”, and most of his classes were actually interesting enough to keep his attention. But with Dean home and John still not back ( he was supposed to be back Thursday, but being late isn’t really out of the ordinary for him ) the weekend couldn’t come fast enough. Having Dean home with no new hunt on the horizon was rare, and Sam was gonna take advantage of it while he still could. 

On Friday after dinner, Dean “went out”, which meant Sam wouldn’t be seeing him until way after the sun goes down, so he decided to do the fun and riveting task that was getting all of the weekends homework out of the way while Dean drinks his weight in whiskey and then inevitably gets with some girl he won’t remember in the morning. Sam hoped to God that Dean would have enough sense to not bring her here, there was only one room and he didn’t wanna get kicked outside. He also knows that their father is aware of his brother's new habit of late nights with nameless girls and hard liquor, but he supposed John didn’t say anything because really… how can he judge from where he’s standing? Babysitting a drunk Dean was much preferable to a drunk John though, besides Dean is the one who insists that because he’s the oldest, he is the one to deal with “John on the bottle”, so Sam supposes he owes Dean a little more leniency.

Sure enough, while Sam was in bed reading Harry Potter (some book Charlie was raving about) Dean stumbled in. He didn’t look too worse for wear, except for the smear of pink lipstick across his face and a glossy look in his eyes that made Sam think to himself, please tell me he walked home . Sam pretended to be enthralled by his book (to be fair it was pretty interesting) while Dean fumbled with his shoelaces, pulled off his boots, and fell into his bed. He only looked up after hearing Dean's breathing slow down, just to make sure he was sleeping comfortably, because he didn’t want to hear Dean complain about his back all day tomorrow. Then he tiptoed to the kitchenette, filled a glass of water, grabbed a bottle of aspirin, and a big popcorn bowl (the designated puke bucket). He put this all by Dean’s bed before turning off the remaining lights and quietly drifting off to sleep.

Sam woke Saturday morning to the sound of Dean gagging and muttering to himself about regrettable life choices, but Sam really couldn’t complain because at least Dean is here… which made him think of John, which made him want to go back to sleep. He got up though, because a hungover Dean with an empty stomach was a nightmare waiting to happen. He started the coffee machine and scrambled some eggs while Dean used up all the hot water by taking a long shower. Sam was fine with that though, because the man smelled BAD after sleeping in his grimy clothes and puking his guts out (thankfully into the bucket).

Dean came out of the bathroom looking reasonably refreshed, but he was apparently not yet able to speak English as he spoke to Sam mostly by pointing and grunting. After devouring some toast, eggs, the last 3 pieces of bacon, and 2 cups of coffee he finally said “So…find any local hauntings or anything?”

Sam would be discouraged if he didn’t know that this was his brother's way of asking if they had time to do something that would most likely, not be hunting- related. “Nah…it’s quiet here, but not unnaturally quiet. Just the kind of quiet that drives you and Dad up the walls.” It drove Sam up the walls too, but that’s not something he was going to admit to.

Dean’s eyebrows raised slightly before he asked “Roads quiet around here?”

That seemed like an oddly specific question. “Yes?”

“Good. Good…you still have that fake drivers license right?”

Sam couldn’t believe the train of thought it seemed his brother was having, but he held out hope as he nodded his reply.

Dean stood up, grabbed his keys, pointed back and said “If you scratch her, I’ll kill you.” Before stomping out to the PASSENGERS SIDE of the impala. 

Sam thinks that his own grin might’ve appeared slightly maniacal judging by the slightly concerned look an old lady sitting on the bench by the parking lot gave him, but Dean didn’t seem to mind it, in fact, the grin seemed to be mirrored on his face too.

It turns out Dean was only confident in Sam’s ability to drive around the parking lot, but with his brother's well-known devotion to the impala, even that was surprising to Sam. After maybe half an hour of that, Dean took over until they got to the open road outside of town, where there was nothing but street signs and forest for miles. Then he let Sam back into the driver's seat with “Just practice going in a straight line and try not to go over 90.” Before popping a metallica tape into the player.

“But I thought driver picks the mu-“

“Just be grateful that I’m letting you drive the damn thing!” 

After driving around for a little while, the rest of Saturday flew by with the boys exploring everything the little town had to offer, even ending up (much to Dean’s dismay) in the library. Sam was perusing a shelf full of Norse mythology ( it has nothing to do with Gabe, shut up ) when he heard a familiar voice say “Dean?”

He turned around to see none other than Charlie Bradbury Chatting up his big brother. Dean was shuffling awkwardly and shot a panicked look towards Sam before Sam said “Charlie? How the hell do you know Dean?!” 

“Ohmygosh Sam? Wait… is this Dean your brother Dean? Wait, that makes so much sense now that I think about it… I don’t actually know any other Dean’s.” Sam just raised his eyebrows and waited for her to finish answering. “So basically me and Cas work at the Gasn’sip down the street right? And the other day your bro comes waddling in to buy—“ at this Dean coughs loudly, but Charlie doesn’t catch the hint, “Skin mags and liquor, and I thought he was just some regular creep-o douche, but then he complimented my star wars t shirt and I managed to sell him on buying pie. So basically me and Dean are bff’s now.” She concluded. Sam decided to not tell her that it wasn’t actually her salesmanship that sold Dean on the pie as Dean would’ve bought it stone cold sober with his last dollar if it came to it. He decided instead to ask instead about this gas station.

 “You think I could work there too? I’ve been looking for a job but there's not much to do around here.” They could use the money especially if John was gone for much longer.

“You can say that again,” came Charlie’s response “but unfortunately the only reason I’m there is because my foster mom owns the place, and Cas is the only other needed staff, that’s why Gabe has to work at that shitty motel.” 

Oh boy. That had Sam standing straighter. “Which motel?”

“There’s only one motel in this town silly! And I’ll tell you if I have to hear that trickster bitching ONE MORE TIME about last prom season I’ll…” Sam began to tune her out after realizing how absolutely abhorrent his luck was. Dean gave him a funny look and he realized that Charlie had stopped talking and was looking at him expectantly. “So…” she prompted “I’ll see you Monday right?” 

“Yup.” Sam replied with a quick smile before quickly turning on his heels and practically hightailing it to the library clerk with his pile of books. If he was gonna be miserable in the next couple days—at least he’d be miserable with some quality reading.