I will always love you

Savior.

Turned out, this place gave you free reign. You have to pick five classes (four of  them are core classes and the last one is a "special") and then the last few hours is yours. You could go outside, go to the library, which was pretty okay except for the smell of rot lingering in the air, work out in that shit gym or just stay in your cell.

Dean decided to go outside and lay out on the scratchy blanket they all were provided with on the lawn and read. The clicking of keys from Ash was pretty lulling, and soon he was just sitting there with his book across his face, laying perfectly still. He wasn't asleep, but barely awake. When he did this Sam said he seemed almost dead, and Dean liked to see how long he could hold his breath before someone would notice he wasn't breathing. He could usually hold his breath for seven minutes, but one time he passed out cold from holding it eight minutes in the middle of class.

People walked by sometimes, their steps going from cloppy and loud to small and light. Dean listened to all of these sounds merging together, and his eyelids grew heavy until he was in danger of passing out for real. And that's when he heard that Ash wasn't typing anymore.

He gently lifted the corner of his book, looking to the way the sound came. Ash was still there, but he was looking up to someone, fear in his eyes.

So he took the book off his face, and squinted his eyes against the light of the sun. A boy, black skinned and black eyed, was standing in front of Ash, and if looks could kill ash would be dead. His arms that were crossed in front of his protruding chest were as thick as a tree trunk, and the muscles twitched periodically.

"Can I help you?" Dean  asked sarcastically, a smirk falling onto his face easily. The kid turned his glare to him, upping the anti when he saw that he was bigger than Ash.

"Yea." His voice was deep and thick with hate and venom. Ash cringed away from him, his laptop yanking into his lap. Dean reached out and touched his leg without looking away from the kid, telling him to not be afraid silently.

"Get the fuck on. Me and this scrawniness need to have a discussion." Ash closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose and out his mouth. It took Dean a minute to realize what he was doing. He was readying himself for pain.

"About?" Fire lit his eyes as he stepped forward, and his teeth clenched into a hiss as Dean scampered up quickly, putting himself between him and Ash. He'd die before allowing this time bomb to hurt his friend.

"Yea um no. The president isn't taking any questions at this time." Ash snickered, but quickly stopped that with the daggers he sent him. He stepped forward again, his long arm coming out to push him away, but Dean was quicker.

He grabbed his arm when it was inches away, and twisted it, pulling his entire weight into it. Soon the guy was laying flat on his back, shock making his mouth hang open.

He tucked his arms into his body as a second later the guy got over the initial shock and bounced up, coming at him. He set his feet and waited for him to swipe at him. No punches will hit him, he knew how to dodge, but if he hesitated and the guy got one good hit in he was a goner. He was bigger and very, very angry.

Then a smooth voice rose out from behind him, telling Gordon to "stop and go calm down." The guy hesitated, breathing so hard his nostrils flared out wide. Then he grunted and stalked away, his long arms swinging. He barreled through the small crowd that had gathered, people jumping out of his way so they didn't get mowed over.

Dean looked to Ash, who was looking to him with a look of fascination and thanks. Dean pointed from his eyes to his, mouthing "talking later" before turning toward his savior.

It was a boy. He was short, with blond hair and dimples and acne. Dean assumed he was a tiny kid, maybe fourteen, but when he saw his eyes he knew that was not the case.

His eyes held a sort of dangerous beauty, age and wisdom evident in his blue orbs. His eyes crinkled up at the edges as he smiled, a small smile that was very, very appealing and made you want to do anything to make him smile again.

"Who are you kid." He stepped forward, touching his hand to his bicep. He only came up to his collarbone, but Dean felt small in his presence, like a child in the company of an elder.

"Dean." The kid smiled again, and patted his bicep softly. He looked him squarely in the eye as he whispered his name in a voice that sent shivers down his spine.

"Luci, Luci Novak. Welcome to hell Dean."