Burned - Destiel

I

        His clothing style contained lots of plaid and jeans without holes. Because of the collar, it was more simple to hide his burns and it was simply comfortable. Because he never took his jacket off, it might seem unnecessary, but he liked the security of extra coverage. It was better than a scarf. He ruffled his hands through his hair once before grabbing his bag and walking downstairs.

        "Good morning, son," John Winchester spoke, who was reading the newspaper while leaning against the kitchen counter. He signed a 'morning' back. Dean smiled lightly when his father folded the paper, walked towards him and kissed him on his forehead. "Now, you can take the Impala. Be careful."

        Dean nodded quickly, his face lighting up when his dad spoke of their car. John chuckled at his eagerness and pat his shoulder before putting a bag in Dean's backpack.

        "-and if anyone bothers you because of your voice or your scars, text me." Again Dean nodded, rolling his eyes at the man's concern. Sam came running into the kitchen with his backpack already on his back. He threw Dean's jacket at him before grabbing his right hand and pulling him towards the door. Dean could just catch the keys that his father threw at him and watch the amused smile that played on his lips before the front door slammed shut behind him.

        "Come on, Dean!" Dean watched as his little brother started walking. He didn't know how to catch his attention so he just stood there until Sam realized that he wasn't going anywhere. When the smaller boy did, he twirled the keys around his pointing finger. "Oh my God, Dean. Do you know how much attention we'll get! We'll totally be cool-"

        Dean stopped listening to his brother's rambling and started the car, closing his eyes when hearing the satisfying purr of the engine. He loved this car unconditionally and it was a hobby of his to patch her up until she looked brand new and gorgeous. With that thought, he began driving.

        The car rides - or basically all conversations - between the brothers were very one-sided. This was, of course, since Dean couldn't speak. Because of the amount of smoke he had breathed in while searching for his parents, his vocal chords had been damaged to an extent where he could possibly never speak again. After all, his vocal chords had grown while being injured. His father and brother knew sign language. Of course, they didn't need to use the non-verbal language, but it was one of the two ways for him to communicate.

        "Dean. We're here. You coming?" Dean nodded, breaking eye contact with whatever he was staring at. He didn't know why his brother was so excited about this new school. He himself felt so anxious he might as well have fainted. He followed Sam's exciting run at a normal pace, scanning the school ground.

        The high school was enormous, white walls carrying grey letters with the school's name on it. There was this typical field of grass and trees where friends met. A few guys were playing soccer, passing the ball to one another. Dean only noticed their game when the ball came rushing his way. He stopped the ball when it reached his feet, looking up for any demand to give it back. Much to his surprise, there was no disrespectful scream to kick the ball back, but one of the boys ran towards him.

        "Hi, thanks for stopping the ball. I swear, round objects just have to tease us by showing they can continue rolling." The boy who spoke was around Dean's age. His hair was so dark it could be specified as black, which contrasted against his immense blue eyes. Dean ducked and grabbed the ball, trying not to smile at the guy.

        "Thanks again. So, are you new here?" Dean nodded. His behavior seemed to confuse the soccer player, which didn't really surprise him that much. "Cool. Well, I'm Castiel. See you around then-"

        Dean knew he was waiting for him to say his name, but he couldn't. He just smiled awkwardly.

        "Dean!" Sam dragged out from behind him and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the gates of the school. Dean shot the soccer-playing teen an apologetic look, but Castiel just shook his head with a smile on his face before running off again. Dean focussed on Sam again, following the smaller boy who was walking way too fast for his length. Sam had probably already found out where they should be to get their schedule because they found some sort of help desk and Sam stood on his tiptoes to see the woman.