Dean's SAT scores went in the trash bin as soon as he got home. He didn't want to look at them, didn't need proof of how big of a failure he was. Not like he'd need them, anyway. He wasn't going to go to college or pursue higher education. The only reason he'd taken the test in the first place was that it was mandatory for seniors at their current school. While the test hadn't seemed too hard to him, he was sure that he'd just misread all the questions and screwed it all up.
However Sam, ever too smart for his fourteen-year-old self, jumped up when he saw Dean enter the motel room and a few papers quickly falling into the trash. "Dean! Seniors got their SAT reports back today, right?" Sam blurted, looking expectantly at Dean, who gave a noncommittal grunt. "Well? How'd you do?"
Dean cleared his throat. "Didn't get my score," he lied. "Was lost in transmission or somethin' like that."
Sam deflated instantly. "Oh," he muttered dejectedly. He met Dean's gaze somewhat shyly. "D'you think colleges will still accept you if you don't have your scores?"
Dean sighed and shook his head. "Not going to college, Sammy," he grunted through clenched teeth.
"Why not? You're definitely smart enough—"
"I said I'm not going, okay?" Dean said, voice raised to a dangerously-high level, annoyance at his brother's persistence spiking. He could feel his heartbeat in his head from angered veins thrumming. "College isn't an option!"
Sam's eyes widened at his brother's outburst, and Dean immediately felt a pang of guilt. Sam just didn't understand. This life did not allow for any personal desires, not that… not that Dean really wanted to go to college in the first place. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was all so confusing. "Sorry, Sam," he muttered.
"It's okay," Sam replied automatically, just like Dean knew he would. He picked up the textbook he'd been thumbing through and resumed whatever studying he'd been doing. "Sorry for bringing it up."
Dean didn't respond, instead set about completing his copious calculus homework. He wasn't failing the class yet, and he actually wanted to keep the steady B that he had now. The homework wasn't too bad, anyway, 'cause it actually made sense to him. His eyes slid over to Sam, who was climbing onto their bed. "Whatcha reading there? Not preparing for your own SAT, are ya?" Dean asked, tone light and teasing.
"I wish," Sam grumbled, slamming the too-heavy textbook shut and tossing it to the edge of the bed. "I hate biology."
"I dunno Sammy, just wait a couple'a years, I bet it'll be more appealing—"
Sam's face scrunched up, just like his brother knew it would. "Dean, ew," he protested.
Dean chuckled. "You'll learn eventually."
"Need I say it again? Ew."
Dean paused. "If you need help with biology—like, you know, actual help—maybe I could help out?"
Sam shrugged, chewing on his lower lip. "Not really. It's just studying and stuff. Nothing you'd really be able to help with."
Dean nodded, looking downwards. He turned quietly back to his own homework.
After nearly half an hour of tense silence, Dean's homework was nearly finished and his stomach was growling fiercely. "Hey Sam, you hungry?"
"Huh?" Sam glanced up from whatever he'd been reading, eyes slightly unfocused and weary.
"I asked if you were hungry."
"Oh, yeah I am." Sam nodded his floppy head and followed Dean into their kitchenette. "What do we have?"
Sparing an unprofitable glance into the fridge, Dean answered, "Looks like your options are hotdogs or…hotdogs."
"How about hotdogs?"
"Good choice."
Soon, four hotdogs were slow-boiling on the stove and the silence was once again driving Dean insane. You could cut the tension with a knife. Dean exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead as he completed what little was left of his homework. He could feel Sam's gaze burning holes into his back. Finally, he slammed his pencil down and flipped around to see his brother, as expected, looking at him curiously. "What, Sam?" he demanded, voice taking on a furious tone displaying his clear aggravation.
Sam held up the papers he'd been reading, and Dean paled. Those were his scores. "Did you even look at them?" Sam asked softly.
"Yes." Dean's eyes flicker to the ground, then over to the steaming pot of hotdogs. He doesn't like where this conversation is headed.
"Then you know that these are amazing! You scored perfectly on the math segment, and only missed a few on English! Dean, how on earth could you hide this? You have to at least show Dad!"
The thought of showing Dad sent waves of near-nausea through Dean's being. Dad would never be impressed by something as trivial as academics. The only way he'd ever be proud of Dean is by his ability to hunt. Dad didn't need—want—a stupid test score to tell him what his son amounted to. If Dean showed him his scores, Dad would almost certainly get mad, for they symbolized Dean putting school before anything else in life—even though he didn't. He just couldn't tell Dad.
"Not gonna, Sammy," he choked out reaching over and yanking the reports from his brother's hands. "These were in the trash for a good reason." Dean took a shuddering breath, bracing himself for what he was about to do.
He tore the papers into hundreds of pieces, tossing them all back into the trash bin. His last chance at a future other than hunting fluttered away, demolished by his own hands.
"Dean!" Sam cried, staring at the offending paper shred before shifting his unbelieving gaze back towards his brother. "What have you done?"
A horrible feeling settled in Dean's gut. What had he done? He wanted to yell, to scream at the world for being so unfair to him, because maybe he did want to go to college! Maybe sometimes he wanted to do something other than hunting!
But no. He couldn't. He couldn't abandon his family for selfish reasons like that. Which was why…
"I'm dropping out of school," Dean blurted out, not trusting himself to meet Sam's eye. "Talked about it with the counselor the other day. I'm gonna take the GED test next month. Then I can hunt full-time with Dad. I won't need to be burdened by school anymore."
"Burdened by school?" Sam repeated incredulously. "Dean, you're brilliant at school!"
Dean cringed. "No, I'm not. Hunting's the only life for me. It's all I'll ever have. If I were to ever go to college, I'd just be a complete failure."
Something deep inside him tells him he's lying to himself, but somehow it feels like the truth. He's just stupid, Sam's the smart one. He can't allow himself to feel pride for his academic achievements, if you can even call them that. It's not like he'd ever be able to amount to anything beyond the simplistic nature of the family business.
No that I want to, Dean decided firmly in his head. This is all I'll ever want.
He stood by that stand, even years later as Sam received his own SAT scores.
Dean's were higher.
I love smart Dean, because he is smart, not the dumb high school drop out people make him out to be.
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