To a new place. A better one.

The beginning of an end.

::::::::A/N::::::::

Dean will not be mention until probably two chapters from now, so yes, it may end up being slow. But hey, I gotta build it up yo. Also, no one else (aside from Gabriel of course) is to be mentioned until later on.

Previously...

Castiel stood there, shooting icy glares at the school. He absolutely hated it, the teachers, the students, even the lockers.  He was there at seven. As early as the school allowed students to be there. He always preferred to be there early, so that way he can get his class belongings for the day and go sit by his first teachers door. He always sat there, it was his one way to avoid the jocks in the morning.

So, Castiel went into the school, the doors having been unlocked, though not all the lights turned on. He usually turned them on himself, that becoming his normal routine as he made his way to his locker.

His locker, 216C, was in the part of the school where no one really went, which he was glad for but then hated it, as it only made it easier for the jocks to not get caught. He shrugged to himself, putting in his code, 21 01 03, and taking his backpack out of there.

Castiel glanced at the clock in the hallway, seeing it was 7:22 already, some of the first students should already be here. He made his way to pre-cal, seeing that his teacher was already there.

“Hello Mrs. Tapping.” Castiel said, barely muttering it, but knew she would hear. She heard everything, from a pin dropping on the floor in the middle of lunch break, to the small whisper of a student calling her a bitch.

Mrs. Tapping, also known as Naomi to teachers,  was a red head, strict, and overly-commanding. She acted like she was the queen when classes started, every single one of her students hated her, and other students feared her. Though, Castiel didn’t quite mind her, she seemed to understand him, then again she did use him against himself. 

Castiel went to his desk, the one in the very front, yet next to the windows. Usually no one sat near him, they only did so if there were no other seats. But even so, they’d ‘subtly’ scoot their seat away from him, and he always knew when they did that for when they did so, the legs of the table would make a screech against the tile of the floor.

“Castiel.”

He glanced up at Mrs. Tapping, but then only realized she was simply greeting him. He took his math book out of his bag, along with his spiral, opening it to a blank page and writing down today’s date.  Then he proceeded to get out his book, reading it until he heard the all too familiar bell ring, signaling that his safety was to end soon…

Later that day...

Castiel looked around, now sitting in his last period class, economics. There was five minutes for the bell, which would release all the students to go home. He was debating on whether he should just run out the door as soon as the bell rang, or wait after until everyone left.

He decided on the second choice, watching as students got up and left the door, laughing with each other, meeting up with friends outside the hall. He would have to walk home alone, as Gabriel was staying after for baseball practice.

He sighed, glancing at the clock and waited until it was ten minutes after the bell, 4:10. Castiel then got up and left the room, looping his arms through his backpack straps and held onto the tightly as he quickly walked out of the school.

Castiel looked around, heading towards his house after deeming it safe to proceed.  He walked quickly, his trench coat flowing with the wind behind him. It kept him warm, although most people would disagree.  He sighed, his hands still gripping his straps of his backpack, and turned down an alley, one of his many shortcuts.

He continued to walk, soon stopping as he stepped in something, feeling his shoe get wet. He looked down, frowning as he realized he stepped in a puddle, the water reaching the bottom of his pants. He side, hating the feel of wet socks, shoes, anything really.

Castiel soon felt himself being yanked back, making a noise as he fell to the ground. He looked up, only to see three familiar faces.

“Derrick, Alan, and of course, Nathan.” He said, sneering Nathan name. These three were always picking on him, beating him up, and of course, making everyone hate him. He had no knowledge why they did.

“Hey, funny seeing you here.” Nathan said, pulling Castiel up by the hair.

“Yeah, I couldn’t possibly see why you were using the same alley that I was. “ Castiel sarcastically said, wincing a bit from the burn of hair pulling.

“Why do you always have to be so sarcastic, Castiel? Can’t we just have a simple conversation?” Nathan pushed Castiel against a fence. Derrick, and Alan stood on either side of Castiel, while Nathan stood in front.

“Oh.  You know. To lighten up the fact that I’m probably about to get bea-“ Castiel  dry heaved as Nathan punched him in the stomach, now realizing his arms were being restrained by Derrick and Alan.

“I’d shut the fuck up if I were you, Castiel.” Nathan said, punching him in the stomach yet again.

Castiel gasped for air, letting his legs go weak since he knew the other two would hold him yet. “It’s useless for me..” Castiel paused, attempting to get his air back as Nathan punch him in the ribs this time. “..To shut up, you’ll just keep beating me.” Castiel winced as Nathan hit his temple, sending a sharp pain through his head.

“Might as well just shut up and take it like a man.” Derrick laughed, watching as Nathan kept delivering punch after punch.  

Castiel soon felt his body hit the floor, groaning in pain at the impact, not really caring anymore. He knew this was when all three of them started beating him, and immediately braced himself for their kicks.  He covered his head, squeezing his eyes shut to try to prevent the tears that would come…

Castiel laid there long after the group of boys had left, holding himself in a fetal position, crying quietly in pain. He tasted blood, felt it too. He hated this, hated everything. He soon got up, ignoring the pains shoot up his legs as he stood. He looked down at himself, covered in mud and blood. He sighed, another shirt ruined. He looked around, glancing at the sky, then ahead of him. He began to walk home, each step he took send pain up his spine, though he had grown used to it.

He stared at the ground as he walked, the tears flowing to a stop, but the blood continued. He had a bloody nose, and a cut along his forehead.

He was tired of this.

Of going home every day with something bleeding or aching.

He wanted it to all end, one way or another.

That’s why his feet took him on a different route, listening to his silent wish. Before Castiel knew it, he was in new territory. He was in a graveyard like area, though no headstones were in sight, aside from an old looking house, probably a two room one, seeing how small it was.

He didn’t know why he was walking to the front door, or why he knocked on it.

He just knew it felt right, like he was supposed to be here. Castiel watched as the door opened, though all he saw was darkness.

“Hello, darling.” A voice with a British accent said…