In Arya, the only surviving city in the world, there are two humanoid species that live on the planet long since abandoned by people who called it Earth. When you are born, all of your DNA is sorted and you inherit traits from your parents. In this strange happening of heretic miracles, however, your species is selected pretty much at random. You can have an entire family of humans and one may eventually be born an angel. The chances of this happening, however, is not in most people's favor. You can only be one species, you cannot be part human or part angel. You are either a winged angel or a lowly human.
Humans live as slaves to a system ran completely by the angels. Most humans work as personal servants to angelkind, some are other things like trash collectors, or other menial jobs that are deemed unworthy of someone with such pristine blood as the angels. This is where our story will begin. With the humans that all serve the house of Micheal the Elder. His family is the oldest-known family of pureblood angels. Michael lives in the large gated mansion community with his siblings and mother. Each sibling with their own house, and the mother with the largest house of the lot. Ones that are not of pure bloodline, like that of Adam Milligan, for instance, lives in the community, but in the house of the master their family serves.
This family is that of the Winchesters. This family consists of six. The mother: Mary, the father: John, and three sons: Adam, the youngest, Sam, then Dean, the eldest, and Sam's young wife: Jessica. Adam, however, was lucky to be born angelkind so he no longer lives with his family. He lives with the family of Micheal so he will be well taught but close to his family. He does not use the opportunity to stay close to them, though.
Adam treats his family poorly, like scum. Having "angel blood" seems to give everyone an ego, Sam once told his mother and she nodded in defeat. He may not have been her son, but it was her husband's son from an affair when they were having a rough patch. His mother died at the hands of an angel, but Adam seems to have long forgotten. The sun rises slowly over the horizon, lighting up the crumbled city of Arya. Mary felt it was her responsibility to care for Adam, to love him. She did both of those thing full-heartedly, but he completely ignored her kindness.
Sam stands, casting a smile to his sleeping wife, curled up in bed. He ignores the nightmares that plauged his sleep. He always ignored bad dreams if they were about Dean, otherwise the dreams would be, at least partially, accepted as a possibility and Sam refused to let that happen. Walking down the creaking stairs cautiously, he rounds the corner, expecting to see his brother Dean eating breakfast. No such luck. He sighs, grabbing a slice of bread and eating it slowly, looking around.
A heavy hand pats his shoulder and grips it, "Hey, Sam, how's the bread?"
Sam takes a second to finish the bite before he answers, "Slightly stale."
He takes another bite, talking around the food, "Too crunchy, almost brittle."
His father nods thoughtfully, "I'll talk to Sir Michael."
Sam nods, and his father smiles tightly, "Your fourteenth birthday is today."
He nods, "I know."
His father's fake smile fades away as he leans into the counter, "You married Jess just a year ago, seems a lot longer though."
Sam nods again, the familiar distance between them settling in.
"I know you weren't too keen on the idea of the 'of-age arranged marriage' tradition."
The boy sighs, running a hand through his shoulder-length hair.
His father's smile returns, but a small one, a real one.
"At least you fell in love with her."
"At first sight." Sam said softly.
"Just like your mother and I." John added wistfully, ruffling the boy's hair and heading towards his bedroom.
Walking to the dinner table, Sam notices a small note he didn't see before. It was Dean's handwriting, he mused to himself as he read it.
I just went out (obviously).
Don't worry, I'll be back home before Sunday dinner.
Your brother, Dean.
Sam wanted to scream, today was Monday. He is used to Dean leaving for days, occasionally weeks, at a time but it doesn't mean he liked it. He heard light feet walking down the stairs and Jess smiled, bits of her curly hair falling in her face, her nightgown going halfway down her legs. Sam smiled at her, he loved Jess.
But his smile faded when he remembered Dean almost got married until his betrothed killed herself. The next one followed in her footsteps, as did the third.
That's when he started to leave all the time.
It was when people started being mean to him more.
Calling him a freak of nature.
I love my brother, he's the best brother I could ever have.
Why can't anyone see him the way I do?
These thoughts roamed through his mind like they have hundreds of times before.
Jess smiles sadly, knowingly, "When's he coming back?"
"Sunday." he responded, hugging her around the waist, burying his face in her neck.
She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his back, "He'll come back, Sam, he always does."
Then, the unsaid question spills from his lips, "What if, this time, he doesn't?"
Jess ran a comforting hand along her husband's cheek, "You love your brother, he loves you too, he'll come back. Family always comes back."
He kissed her forehead, "Thanks, Jess."
She smiled meekly up at him, "Let's go get ready for work."
He nodded, holding her hand as he lead her up the stairs, the four Winchesters got ready to go to their Masters' as usual. Little did they know, things were being set in motion that were far beyond comprehension.