365 days of Cas [Destiel Highschool AU] - In the middle of Editing

Day 1

*A/N well here we go, my first "proper" fanfiction. Sorry about the insane shortness of this chapter, but don't worry, there will be another chapter straight away and updates will hopefully be quite regular (update: or not...)

Update: if you have just found this story, I am currently going through slowly and improving each chapter so you may notice I drop in quality at some point after this chapter. My sincere apologies as back when I began this I obviously did not know how to write.

Update: wow, it's been a year since I've even looked at this fanfiction... Oops. I wouldn't have finished it if my cousins friend hadn't recommended it to her so... I'm back and I'm aiming to finish this by next year wooo XD

I will warn if there are triggers before each chapter starts, so just lean back, relax, have a hot chocolate, grab some tissues, and enjoy the ride.*

Dean woke up very late on the hard wooden floor of his bedroom with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. It had been a heck of a party that night and it wasn't even as if Dean had enjoyed it. It was merely what normal guys his age did for fun. It was new year after all.

A new year; his last year of high school. The last year before the rest of his life.

Dean rolled onto his back and stared up to the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck messily on the ceiling. They were the only light source he had in his room, the naked lightbulb above his bed having blown a few months back. John of course wasn't sober long enough to fix it and the rest of the time he was 'working'. Dean glowered. It was something he always did when thinking about his father.
Ruffling his sandy blonde hair, Dean sat up once more, scrunching his eyes as the dimly lit room swayed before him. Once the vertigo had passed, he stood, slowly, and stumbled over to the mirror.

He moved closer to the dirty glass, finding it hard to make out his reflection in the gloom. He groaned. His short hair was greasy and stood up in all directions. His green eyes were hooded with tiredness and huge rings circled them, causing them to look dark and sunken. Dean frowned slightly, yawning as he lightly scratched the sparse stubble under his chin. Just on his jaw-line, a faint purple blotch, now turning yellow, could be seen. A fading bruise. Dean shrugged, prodding at it gently; he had looked much worse.
After thoroughly examining any other visible bruises, Dean quickly fetched a small bottle of concealer from his top draw. Applying it carefully, the offensive souvenirs of recent rages were covered and Dean finally made his way to the small, rickety bed. He slumped onto the lumpy mattress, leaving himself fully clothed as he drifted off to a troubled sleep.