Dean looked down at the letters scrambled upon the pages in his book. They twisted and turned into knots and tangles. He couldn't comprehend any of it. The art's and thou's were splattered on the page like an artist would splatter paint on a canvas and call it art. But this was not art, this was not a story. This was a headache. This was his failing grade. This was written by some drunk who was only writing this because he was a hopeless romantic and had nothing better to do than write about other hopeless romantics killing themselves. If you asked Dean, it was complete bullshit.
"What the fuck does this even mean?" Dean yelled. He pushed the book from his desk. It fell on the floor, page down in the mud Dean had tracked in from outside because his brother thought it would have been fun to have Dean chase him through the park after it rained. He knew he was going to have to pay for the book later because of the few filthy pages. "Retard!" A student yelled. There was a loud chorus of laughter around him, a loud ringing in his ears. "Fuck" Dean grumbled. Was he crying? The burning in his eyes and the wet feeling on his cheek proved that he was. He quickly grabbed his things and ran out the classroom. The last thing he heard were the students laughing and the teacher telling them to quiet down.
Dean ran into the bathroom and locked the stall door. He didn't want to be seen or bothered by anyone. He hated school enough as it was and now he was going to be the laughing stock of the classroom. But what if the story got out to the rest of the school? Dean didn't think people would put enough effort into ruining a reputation he never had. Dean had just transferred and didn't plan on making any friends. He stayed there and hoped no one would try to use the bathroom while he was hiding away from his embarrassment. "Fuck this school," he thought to himself.
He continued to hide in the bathroom until that class was over with. He went to his next class and kept his head down low to avoid being noticed. After his mishap in English, he didn't want to have another in math. He worked silently and asked no questions. He kept his head down and his eyes on his own paper. Even when he was finished, he didn't want to stand up and hand it to the teacher. All he needed was another class to think he was an idiot. Not that he cared anyways, but he didn't want to be looked at as the kid who can't do shit.
After school was out Dean went to get his brother and they began to walk home. "So how was school?" Dean asked, smiling. "It was okay. There's this girl I like. Her name is Jessica but I just call her Jess. It's short and cute. Like her." Sam said smiling. "That's good," Dean said. "Yeah. But a lot of people like her too," Dean chuckled. "Well if she likes you back you don't have any competition,". Sam smiled and nodded. Dean smiled back. He could still see the tiny bits of innocence left in his eyes that he never wanted to see go away.
They had both went home and he told Sammy to go to his room and do his homework. Sam groaned but he knew that if he didn't the school was going to call about another missing assignment. Sam was a good kid but he wasn't into doing things he was forced to do.
One hour until John came home. Dean began to wash the dishes. After, he had swept the floor. He even turned the television to John's favorite station before he got there. When he opened the door, Dean was there with an opened bottle of beer. John just grabbed it from Dean's hand and sat down on his Lazyboy chair.
There was nothing Dean wanted more than his father to be a father. Dean wanted Sam to have a real father more than anything instead of Dean pretending to be on. Sooner or later, Sam was going to break just like Dean had years ago.
Dean went to his room where Sam was doing his homework. "The king has resided in his castle and is sleeping," Dean joked. Sam nodded and erased his answer for the fifth time already. He knew it, but, like Dean, he was stressed but for completely different reasons. "Kids make fun of me at school," Sam sighed. Dean sat next to him and frowned. "What do they say, Sammy?" He turned to him and pouted. "My hair's too long, my clothes are old, and I'm the tallest one in my class!" Dean sighed and hung his head low. "Sammy, I'm sorry. I mean, some girls like long hair and tall guys. And you know I'm trying to get a job. Don't guilt me Sam." Dean sighed. "I guess you're right. I'm sorry Dean. I know there's nothing you can do right now," he frowned and pretended to look over his homework. "But when I can I'll do everything," he said, ruffling his hair. Sam nodded.
Before John had the chance to wake up, Dean began making steak, potatoes, and vegetables just to make the dish look nice. He never ate them. For Dean and his brother he made frozen pizza. It wasn't Sam's favorite, but Dean was sure it had the food groups all in one. Grains. Meats. Vegetables. Fruits. Dairy. Lots of oil. Good enough for Dean. He placed the pizza in the oven while he cooked his father's meal. They were both done at around the same time. Dean cracked open another cold beer for his father and set the food down at the table in front of the television. Dean and Sam ate at the dining table in silence. He wished his father would step up, ask Sam about his day, praise him for his grades, complement his height, give him girl advice. But he didn't. Dean had a feeling he never would.
Dean laid in his bed while Sam laid in his own, across the room. Today was a good day compared to all of the others. Dean was content, but all he could think about now was school. He'd made a complete fool of himself, and they weren't going to let him live it down. Dean Winchester? No. He was going to have to live with the names they were going to give him until he graduated. And he'd be in the yearbook as "most likely to fail in life". Amazing. He stared up at the ceiling until his eyes fell heavy. He pulled the covered over his head and began to fall asleep.