I own nothing

Graduation

John bore the annoyance of the scratchy suit with ill grace. He glowered at the seat in front of him, not paying any attention to the speeches going on at the stage at the front.

He wasn't sure why he'd come. Sure, he was proud Dean had managed to actually graduate. Sometimes with the suspensions for fighting and the calls complaining he hadn't done any of the homework for months and so on John wasn't sure he'd make it.

But now Dean could help him full time with the hunts or, and more likely, he could get a part time job so John could hunt full time, not worrying about his boys having enough money or food for the week.

To be honest, he'd only insisted that Dean finish because it's what Mary would've wanted. She would've been in her element here, bawling into a handkerchief and telling everyone she could that that was her little boy up there and wasn't he wonderful and they'd better appreciate him or else.

John cut that train of thought off forcefully and returned his attention to the stage, which Sam was watching so avidly. He was just in time too.

"Dean Winchester," the announcer called out. There was a polite smattering of applause and one incredibly loud whistle from Sam, which echoed around the packed hall and made Dean grin with unrestrained glee.

Dean crossed to the man handing out the diplomas and was moving towards the stairs when he was called back by the announcer.

"Dean has been awarded the Social Sciences Smith Award for his performance in Home Economics. And Mrs Sarah McClelland, the Home Economics teacher will give a short speech and award it to Dean." John looked at Sam with narrowed eyes. He didn't know Dean was getting an award. But Sam was watching the proceedings with wide eyes, as a matter of fact, so was Dean. Apparently neither of his boys had expected this.

Mrs McClelland stepped up to the microphone and cleared her throat.

"Dean is an amazingly responsible young man and I am honoured to award him this Social Sciences Smith Award. While some expected this award to go to someone who followed instructions to the letter, I have found that Dean fits the qualities it commemorates much better.

"When told to sew decorative pillows, Dean finished his in a practical yet fast manner then helped others in the class who were having difficulty showcasing his caring nature." On stage Dean blanched.

"In the cooking Dean modified the recipes taught to feed more people at lesser cost proving his ability to adapt situations to his need. The desserts he created out of the remaining ingredients were wonderful to say the least." Mrs McClelland smiled here while colour started to faintly show on Dean's cheeks.

"But it was the final assignment that proved to me that Dean was the most deserving of this award. The dreaded crying baby assignment, which I know, as a mother, is the worst assignment for any parent to have." She paused as a quiet ripple of appreciative laughter run through the crowd. John's eyes narrowed again. He couldn't remember Dean ever having brought home a baby in the last couple of months.

"Dean's baby was wonderfully looked after, cared for and protected. If the child had been real I can only think of one person who would have been better looked after by Dean." Sam grinned wildly at Dean as his cheeks grew steadily pinker.

"I'm aware that all these young people are leaving school now, to go to college or a job or to find new opportunities elsewhere. And awards from high school will be forgotten and seen as unimportant. But I hope that even if they don't remember, that someone remembers for them." Sam could have sworn Mrs McClelland looked right at him.

"This award says that Dean is special, that he is remembered, that he has done a marvellous job, of everything he has put his mind too. Thank you for being my student Dean." She turned around and handed the award to Dean, reaching across to shake his hand. The crowd applauded again, this time more enthusiastically, and Sam's loud whistle cut across the noise again. This time accompanied by a deeper whistle as well. Dean looked completely shell shocked for a second then smiled genuinely at his father and brother in the middle of the crowd, in pure unabashed delight.

Later the taillights of the Impala and John's truck faded into the darkness as they left the town they'd been living in for just under five months. Already starting on the next hunt, in the next state, in the next town. All that was left in the empty motel room was a bin filled with junk food wrappers, paper with pointless unreadable scribbles on them and a Social Sciences Smith Award.

Dean didn't need a crappy award to show he was an awesome big brother. He had an awesome little brother for that.