A/N: Just a teen!chester ficlet that came to me last night
Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchesters
Sammy brushed Mr. Wyatt off easily; saying that failing him was no big deal. But the truth is Sam worked damn hard on all his homework, especially getting that essay complete.
Once upon a time—no no, that's not right. I know the time, July 22nd 1997. A tuesday. Far north in the backwoods of Minnesota. This wasn't my first wolf either. I'd already helped assist my dad and big brother, Dean in hunting three before. Yet, there was something about waiting with my own 9mm holding six silver bullets, and the summer forest grass between my toes (yeah, I didn't have any shoes that night...all Dean's fault), that made me believe this night I might show Dad that I had some true grit. It wasn't about impressing him; he had Dean for that. I wanted this so that he might see I'm not the completely helpless child he thinks I am.
"Sammy!" Dean called from across the hotel room, "You need to help me clean these guns. Dad'll have my ass if you can't clean a shotgun properly by the time he gets home."
"Busy, Dean."
"Doin' what?"
"Homework."
Dean stared at his little brother for a few seconds before laughing, "That's cute, but your assignment from Dad is a much more important lifeskill than knowing the quadratic formula."
Gritting his teeth, Sam walked over to let his brother teach him; knowing if he wanted this essay done he'd be working into the wee hours of the morning.