(This story takes place when Sam is 15 and Dean is 19. I've got a new RPG player coming to the fold, nocturnal08! She is playing Sam, I'm playing Dean, and Jet is playing John.)
Dean paced back and forth; it was seven O'clock already! "Come on Sammy! You can do this crap later. If we don't get over to Melissa's party, all the booze is gonna be gone! And I'll tell ya what'll be worse Sammy, if all the scantly clad chicks are also gone! I swear I'll help you study for your Algebra test tonight after the party. Come on man, think about it will you?"
Dean had been working on getting Sam to agree to come with him since five O'clock when he'd gotten the phone call inviting him to the BBQ pool party. Melissa was a real looker, and so were her friends. He was certain tonight would be a night he'd never forget… that was saying he could get Sam to agree to come along. Their dad had told them that whenever he was out on a hunt they had to stick together for safety sake in case he needed them at a moments notice. So, if Sam didn't go, neither could Dean.
"Dean! I already told you I'm not going to that stupid party!" Sam griped, leaning down over his algebra homework. "I already spent every night this week training! I HAVE to study for this, man. If I don't memorize these equations, I'm gonna be screwed for the test tomorrow. Just GO without me, okay. I'll be totally fine here."
Dean slammed his hands down on the desk on either side of Sammy's book responding, "You know I can't leave without your sorry carcass in tow! Dad would kill me! Can't you just do me this one favor Sammy? I swear I'll make it up to you! Besides, we only have to go for a little while… two hours tops! What do ya say Sammy? I'm pleading with you here. Two hours. That's it."
Sam glanced at the clock, considering. "Fine, Dean, just wait a sec. I'm taking these note cards, okay? And you SO owe me. And if Dad finds out, this is ALL your fault. Can I just wait in the car? I swear, I'm not eight anymore! I can handle myself just fine."
Dean's face lit up with a huge smile upon hearing Sam agree to come along, "Aw Sammy, you won't regret this I promise! Here," Dean ran to their shared dresser pulling Sam out a pair of swim trunks, "Put these on. This party is going to be a blast, and since we're only going to be there two hours, you can use the time to relax and get your head right for studying right? I mean what better way to get that noggin' of yours going then a good meal, hot chicks, and relaxation at the pool?" Dean was hoping on a little more than two hours, and he knew the only way to make that happen was to loosen Sam up and get him to have fun at the party as well.
"Fine," Sam said shortly, grabbing the trunks. He looked reluctantly at his notes and shoved a few cards into his pocket, promising himself he'd make time for them later. "Just two hours, okay? Dean, I mean it!" He grabbed a pile of stuff, following his brother out the door.
Dean waved his brother off responding, "Yea, yea, two hours. No problem."
The party had been everything Dean had said it would be. Sam may not have lost track of time so easily if Cindy hadn't been there. Cindy was quite beautiful and to top it off she was also able to hold a decent conversation. Dean of course had hit the cooler as soon as they'd arrived hitting on every chick that crossed his path. Before either of them knew it, the party was dwindling down and it was fast approaching midnight.
Shit, Sam thought, when he saw the clock, and his stomach sank as he realized that not only was he going to be tired tomorrow, but he was screwed for his algebra test. "Dean!" he yelled desperately. "We have to go!" His older brother didn't have to worry about school anymore, but Sam was working his ass off for a 4.0... which he probably just blew to have a good time talking to Cindy.
Dean was completely engrossed with flirting on a college co-ed when he heard his brother's wail over the music. He inwardly growled as he charmingly smirked at the girl holding up a finger to pause their conversation, "Just one second sweetheart, I'll be right back."
Dean made his way to Sam who was hurriedly throwing on his shirt. "Hey Sammy, give me just fifteen more minutes man. This chick is totally digging me."
"If you don't come with me now, I'm going on my own!" Sam said angrily. "I told you I have a test tomorrow! You said we would be here two hours and now it's almost midnight!" He glared at his brother, feeling suddenly tired and now very anxious about tomorrow's test. "We have to go now, Dean."
Dean huffed in irritation, "Fine. Just go get in the car ya big baby; I'm gonna at least go grab her number before we leave."
Dean didn't wait to hear his brother's reply as he stormed away from him angry that he'd have to leave so soon. By the time he had gotten back to where he had left the girl, she was already chatting with some other guy. Dean now furious altered his course to the cooler grabbing two more beers for the road before heading back to the car where Sam was already sitting waiting on him.
Sam was near tears from the panic of being dismissed by his older brother. It was so unfair! Dean just didn't understand how important this test was to him. He stalked out to the car, slouching down impatiently to wait for Dean.
When Dean did make it out, he was weaving slightly and packing two cans of beer. He swallowed hard, remembering Dad's lectures about drinking and driving. "Uh, maybe I should drive," he said when Dean wrenched open the door.
Dean gave him a look Sam had seen a hundred times, the look said 'Don't mess with me Sam, I'm already pissed off!' Dean's expression softened after seeing the hurt pout plastered on his brother's face. He put a hand on Sam's shoulder responding, "We're less than five miles from home Sam; I really didn't have that much to drink, and I promise I'll wait until we get home to crack these open okay?"
"Okay," Sam said, though he still looked a little nervous. He wasn't willing to be the whiny bitch his brother apparently thought he was. Besides, he only had his permit and didn't really want to try driving now that it was dark. He guessed it was only five miles... and Dean didn't seem THAT drunk. Probably Dad would never even know. "I just want to go home, Dean," he said finally.
Dean nodded in agreement as he started the car up and drove off down the road. He thought about the fact his brother had dropped what he was doing to come out to this party with him tonight, and when he turned to look at Sam, Sam looked absolutely miserable. Dean frowned; he hated making Sam feel badly. To make him feel better Dean commented off-handedly, "Just so you know Sammy, I really do appreciate you coming out here with me tonight, and for what it's worth, I am sorry I kept you out so long."
Sam was glad that Dean didn't seem mad at him anymore, but he was still unhappy and starting to recriminate himself for not making time to study earlier. And he should never have let Dean talk him into going to that stupid party.
"Dean, it's fine," he said shortly digging out his note cards, which he could barely read in the dim light. Besides that, water from the pool had made the ink run and they were completely illegible. "Damn it!" Sam swore crumpling them up in frustration.
Dean turned his head lifting an eyebrow in concern, "What's the matter Sammy?"
"I'm gonna fail this frikkin' test," Sam wailed. "I didn't study and now it's too late and I don't know the material. Dad's gonna get all pissed and my whole grade for the term is going to drop!"
Dean was surprised at the sudden meltdown from Sam as he replied, "Wow, wow, wow! Calm down Sammy! Dad's not going to be home until tomorrow morning, and I told you that I'd help you out didn't I?"
"And how are you going to do that, Dean?" Sam shot back, turning to glare at his brother. "It's too late for me to learn it all for tomorrow."
Dean scoffed, "Who says you've got to learn it tonight? All you really need is the formulas right?"
"Yeah, but Dean, we need to know them for the test," Sam protested. He didn't understand what Dean was getting at.
Dean rolled his eyes replying, "Just write the equations on your arm and where a long sleeve shirt to cover them up then you can glance at them when you're stumped. No one's gonna notice. Trust me."
Sam looked at his brother as if Dean had sprouted an extra head. "But Dean, that's cheating!" He replied with righteous indignation. After his initial reaction, however, he reconsidered. "Do you really think that would work?"
Dean's brow furrowed, "It's not technically cheating since you're not writing down the answers; I mean all your doing is keeping a little visual aid to jog the memory. Besides, it worked for me, and you can study and really learn the stuff this weekend. No harm done."
Sam snorted at the idea that this wasn't cheating --in his opinion it certainly was. But still, he didn't have very much choice at this point. "Fine," he conceded more because he was too tired to study anymore than because he was convinced by his brother's argument, "I'll do it."
Dean beamed proudly at his, what he thought, clever way around Sammy flunking his test. He spouted cockily as they pulled into the driveway, "I knew you'd see it my way."
Sam just opened the car door, got out, and trudged into the house without another word. Dean watched him go as he leaned on the car quickly downing the two beers he'd snagged before leaving the party. He burped enjoying the increased buzz the two beers afforded before getting rid of the evidence in the outside dumpster and heading to bed himself.
Sam woke the next morning, nerves making him almost nauseous. He blinked groggily over at Dean, who was still out like a light in the bed next to him. He couldn't resist giving his brother a dirty look, remembering the "plan" they had come up with for his test today. He let out a beleaguered sigh and took a shower; glancing speculatively at his arm as he considered where best to leave the notes.
Long sleeves weren't exactly seasonal, but Sam didn't really care about that. All he cared about was passing this test. He carefully copied the formulas he would need on to this left forearm. Unfortunately this was an advanced algebra test and the notes took up a lot of space. Oh, well, he thought, I'll just have to deal. He pulled on the shirt and went down to breakfast, feeling his heart pound guiltily.
Sam looked blankly at the paper in front of him. He had a basic idea of where to start the problem, but he needed one of the formulas. He began to edge down his shirt sleeve glancing up every so often to be sure Mrs. Flannigan wasn't alerted to his highly suspicious activity.
Unfortunately, the writing he needed lay below a bulge in his arm and he was having trouble working the narrow sleeve down far enough. Damn it, Dean, he thought, why do I let you talk me into these things!
Mrs. Flannigan, noticing that Sam was in some distress, came over to inquire. "Is everything alright, Sam?" She asked.
Sam slammed his arm down against the desk, hiding the writing on his forearm. He managed to smile, but it was a little shady considering he'd just started to sweat. "Yes, ma'am," he assured her.
Mrs. Flannigan allowed it to pass, but kept a close eye on Sam, who was one of her best students. He was certainly acting strange today. She wondered if he was ill. In the 27 years she had been teaching algebra, however, she had seen all the tricks and her sharp eyes soon detected Sam's attempts at subterfuge. She clicked her tongue in dismay scarcely believing that Sam Winchester was sitting there cheating on his exam right under her nose. Well, he certainly won't get away with it, she thought with a hint of anger.
When the bell rang, she collected the tests. "Sam," she said coldly. "See me after class, please."
"Oh, but I've got gym..." Sam trailed off.
"Well you should have thought of that before," Mrs. Flannigan said severely. "Now, Sam, please roll up your left sleeve."
Sam looked down, knowing he'd been caught. His spirits plummeted. He had no choice but to mutter a dejected "yes, ma'am" and reveal his deception.
"Young man, we have very strict policies about cheating," she scolded, "Now come with me."
"Where are we going?" Sam asked, nervously.
"To the principal's office to report this incident, and then we will call your parents."
Sam's stomach twisted, well imagining what his father would say to say to him getting caught cheating on a test and bringing the unwanted attention of the school authorities down on the family.
He trailed after Mrs. Flannigan like a lost puppy, dreading his next encounter with his father.