New School

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Dean woke up with a face full of grass. He groaned and hauled himself to his feet. In front of him sat a towering iron gate. When Dean reached out to touch the gates, they creaked open instantaneously. Dean walked through them, and when he did, he saw it. The huge four story stone building in front of him that had a large sign on it that read "Eremiel's Boarding School (for hunters)".

"ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?" Dean yelled, kicking a small rock in front of him as hard as he could. The rock sailed through the first window to the right of the big steel doors. Through the window, Dean caught a glimpse of the red-headed bastard himself, and stormed toward it, not bothering with the school's door and instead kicking his way through the already-broken window.

Dean climbed through the window frame to find an annoyed Eremiel sitting at a large desk in what looked to be a principal's office of some sort.
"WHAT THE HELL?" Dean exclaimed, pounding his fist on Eremiel's desk.

"Dean, lovely to see you again. Welcome to Eremiel's Boarding School."

"Really? Naming it after yourself? You couldn't think of anything more creative than 'Eremiel's Boarding School'? Seriously, man, what the hell?"

"I don't understand. Are you confused? I was so sure I had explained all of this thoroughly," Eremiel said thoughtfully.

"Maybe you didn't explain the part about kidnapping all the hunters in the world during THE FREAKING APOCALYPSE! We shouldn't be wasting time at a damn boarding school!"

Eremiel laughed. "Dean, no time is being wasted. This school is in a pocket dimension of my own creation. We're outside the flow of time. So as time passes here, no time passes in the real world."

Dean frowned. "That makes zero sense."

Eremiel shrugged. "The laws of time and space are very-"

Dean interrupted him by leaning over his desk and grabbing him by the tie. "Listen here, smartass. You're gonna put me and whoever else you took back to where we were before you plucked us out, you got me, Remmy?" It was a fairly weak threat, considering Dean had no weapons or actual power, but Dean didn't care.

Eremiel pushed Dean off with a single finger, then calmly readjusted his tie. "Dean, it's Principal Eremiel, not 'Remmy'. And you're in no place to be making threats right now. You should be worrying more about yourself than me."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Eremiel widened his eyes. "Well, you threw a rock through my window and physically assaulted your principal. You've already built up two detentions. If you receive ten, you get The Punishment."

"Great," Dean mumbled. He didn't bother asking about "The Punishment". He didn't wanna know, nor did he care. "Goddamn you angels."

Eremiel clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Blasphemy. Another detention. So one today, one tomorrow, and one the day after."

Dean stared blankly at him. "Are you freakin' serious?"

Eremiel stared back. "Do I look like the type to kid? Now," he said, shuffling papers on his desk into a neat stack, "shoo. You have class."

"But-"

Eremiel cut him off with a look that implied enough threat to convince Dean to back off.

Dean sighed. "Fine, I'll play along. What class do I have now, Principal Eremiel?" The sarcasm was dripping from his voice.

Eremiel handed him a paper. "That's got your schedule, dorm room number, roommate, a map, and your locker combination." Eremiel gave him a venomous smile. "Welcome to boarding school, Dean Winchester."

"Screw you," he said, and walked out the door.

"Verbal disrespect towards your principal is another detention!" Eremiel called after him. Dean ignored him.

Dean turned down another hallway and sat down against the wall. He needed to find Sam, but until then, he might as well play along with this school bullcrap. It seemed like his only option. Dean sighed, and took a look at his schedule.

period 1: Angel History
period 2: First Aid/Ancient Remedies
period 3: Latin/Spells
period 4: Monster 101
~~~~~~~Lunch~~~~~~~
period 5: Hunting Calculus
period 6: Demon History
period 7: Weapons/Homicide
period 8: Comp. Hacks

Hunting Calculus? Dean suppressed a laugh. What the hell did Calculus have to do with hunting? Dean'd never even taken Pre-Calculus. He'd barely passed Algebra. But the rest of his classes? Monster 101? Weapons/Homicide? He'd be a straight-A student for sure.

He quickly looked through the rest. He had locker number 312,
the combination was 32-26-5, his dorm room was 41B and he was bunking with Sam. Finally, something was going right. The sooner he found Sam, the sooner they could get out of this mess.

Dean stood up and made his way to Angel History, which, according to the map, was across the hall. When he walked into the classroom, he was greeted by a familiar face, along with light brown hair almost as long as Sam's and a smug smirk, at the front of the room.

"Ah, Dean-o," Gabriel said. "Welcome to the party."

"Gabriel?"

"That's Mr. Gabriel to you. Now. You're late to my class." He cracked a smile. "So unless you want me to send you to the office-"

"NO!" Dean interrupted. "Not again, dammit. I was just there!"

"Good for you. Now if you don't wanna go back, you'll take your damn seat. I believe there's an open one in the very back."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but then he looked toward the back of the room. Sitting in the back of the class next to the only empty seat in the room was an excessively tall man who looked about thirty, with dark brown hair that was way too long, a flannel shirt, and a shit-eating grin on his face. Sam.

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