Welcome! This is my first shot at a Destiel fic! It may be the only one! Now, I think I should answer a question previous readers of mine may have. Yes, I'm still continuing my Akuroku and Free! fics. I'm just taking a very long time. It will happen. Just be glad I haven't died Final Destination style.

The library is my friend. It's my home at school. I find solace in the shelves; beauty in the books. I find being anonymous can help me stay alone. I know this place like the back of my hand. It's my domain. I came to appreciate the library after spending all my free time here. I've read over half its capacity in my high school career. In my future, I want to capture people with my stories; so it's good practice. People come in and I'm here to serve. I help them find what they need and I enjoy that. There are just some people that need more help than others. Unfortunately, that's how this story starts. Dean Winchester will be the death of me. He will somehow be my downfall and I hate him for it.

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You wouldn't think that many people like to come to the library after the final bell rings and you're freed from classes for the day. I stay here for a while, pick up a book, and find a place in a comfortable chair. I like the quiet, but today turned out differently.

"Hello? Can I get some assistance?" A huskier voice called from the entrance.

I looked over the frames of my glasses, just to see if I could get a look at a face.

"Coming," I reluctantly said, trying to stay quiet; you know… library rules.

He was peering at the nonfiction shelves by the door. In a dark green jacket with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder stood Dean Winchester. I didn't know him, he didn't know me, and I could care less if that changed or not.

"Yes?"

He jumped, turning around with a startled look, and then smiled like nothing had happened. "Hi. I know you," he cocked his head, "You're Castiel. I think I have you in a couple classes."

"Four classes. And yes. And you're Dean. Now, what do you need?" Yeah, I was growing impatient. He cut me off from reading.

"Oh. I need to see a book on grammar."

I turned away from him and rolled my eyes. "Follow me." I speed-walked to a section of the room, not even checking to see if he was behind me or not. "Welcome to the four hundreds. Specifically four hundred and twenty-five. Hold your arms out," I instructed.

Dead did as he was told.

"Now, you asked for a book on grammar; there are fourteen here in this library. I'll let you use seven. We'll back track and pick up a few books on structure and writing systems, respectively." I added six more books to his stack. "Keep following and keep up."

I pulled a chair out from the closest table and took the books from him. "Sit. Read."

He gave me a look that closely resembled the phrase 'Are you shitting me?' My eyes went wide and I nodded my head, flipping one of the books open.

"Dude. I needed one book. I'm not stupid." He stood and scanned over the books for a second and grabbed a thin, paperback book about sentences. "I want this one." He waved the book in the open space between us. "Check this out for me."

Dean pushed the chair in farther than it should go and trudged to the checkout station. I slid into the chair behind the computer and logged myself into the system.

"School ID?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Not on me."

"How about your ID number? You know, the one you use for lunch?"

"Seriously, dude. Just type my name in."

"It doesn't work that way."

He dropped the book on the desk and stormed to the exit. "You know what; I don't even give a damn anymore. I'll just Google it." And he left.

A moment after his exit, I stood over the desk and yelled out, "Rude!"

As I reshelved the books, I thought to myself. I love what I do, but I hate arrogant assholes who think I'm there to be taken advantage of. I mean, I'm there to help out, but you're not gonna be a hardcore dick about it. Dean Winchester is a hardcore dick.

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I walked home like usual. I'd take a school bus, but I don't leave the school early enough. My house wasn't that far, though. It gave me time to think.

There were no cars in the driveway at home; another night would be spent at home alone. Mom and Dad had left me alone often. They'd call it a date night on some occasions, but others, they were just out. I didn't care. The house was stocked with food and I could order movies when I wanted, but I usually binge watch TV shows about families.

After eating a grilled cheese sandwich and watching a show about the lives of adopted children, I finally shut everything down and venture upstairs. I took a peek in Mom and Dad's room. The bed's been made for two nights now. There are days I wish I had a sibling, but with these nights… I wish I wasn't even here.

My alarm was set for six in the morning, and it was only eight something at night. I didn't want to sleep, but was I just supposed to keep watching TV about people who actually saw their family? It's not like I live in the house of a CEO mondo-millionaire wealthy mother fucker that no one can stand. I just hate it sometimes.

Now, I want opinions. You love it, like it, hate it. You wanna share it, fine. I'm on tumblr, I may see it again. I wanna know what you have to say. I like feedback. Should I keep going? Scrap it? Hide from all the Destiel fans who may want my head on a platter? I dunno. That's why I come to you (I'm smiling right now, just so you know I'm being serious). Now, just in case, I'm gonna go type up what I have of the next chapter. Bye.