I own nothing.

Responsibility

Sarah McClelland considered herself a fair teacher. She always listened to her students' excuses and if it sounded real enough, and if her students were sincere enough, she generally gave them extra time or the chance to redo an assignment. But this last excuse, which wasn't really an excuse anyway, but an explanation, was more than she'd heard before.

Dean Winchester was not a great student. He missed too many classes, tended to sleep through the Monday ones when he was there and didn't listen very well. He also distracted a great many of his classmates when he was bored.

Sarah had him for Home Economics however, and he was surprisingly good at most of the components included in the subject.

Of course, his sewing was a little too even and regimented, more a medical stitch than the flowery decorative stitch they were aiming for on the pretty pillowcases they had made. And he had sewn Joanna Clew's pencil case to Jeremy Southland's. Then in the cooking classes he watched the instructor carefully then made approximately the same thing but with fewer ingredients and only the cheaper ones. Then he used what he hadn't used to make elaborate meals, desserts only if he could, and use them to woo girls. Though the dessert never seemed to get eaten but were still missing by the end of the day.

However, in the last assignment, that of watching a pretend baby and turning a key in it's back every time it cried for a week, Dean had not bothered to pay attention to it once. The computer readout said that Dean had ignored the crying baby the entire time he had had it, leaving it to conclude the baby was neglected and giving Dean a failing grade.

It was slightly disappointing to Sarah, as she new full well that Dean had needed a passing grade in her subject in order to graduate this year. But there was nothing she could do about it.

Until the Monday she handed the assignments back. Dean was not in class, apparently he was sick. Then his younger brother had come to collect his work for him and it was from him that Sarah had heard a very astonishing story.

Imagine Dean Winchester basically bringing up his baby brother. She wasn't quite sure she believed it but the boy had been so earnest and sincere. So she gave Dean the benefit of the doubt, and as long as he passed the supplementary exam for Home Economics well, Dean should be able to graduate with the rest of his class at the end of the year.

Still, Sarah was uncertain. So she asked around.

According to the younger brother's teachers, Sam was his name, Sam was driven to and from school by his brother. And some issues with bullies earlier in the year, when both boys had been new kids, had been settled by Dean somewhat non-violently despite his reputation. Sam's maths teacher had confided to Sarah that when she asked Sam if he'd been having troubles catching up Sam had told her that it was alright because Dean was teaching the new stuff at night so he wasn't too far behind.

But it wasn't until later that week when she was walking home from school that she witnessed what Sam had been talking about, and she decided Sam was completely correct and Dean had already earned a pass on the final assignment.

She was walking up to the small minimart on the corner when the boys, both Sam and Dean, had stepped out, their hands filled with groceries. Sam also had a lollypop stuck in his mouth and a look of concentration while Dean was grinning at him.

"So Viola is pretending to be Sebastian because … Why is she pretending to be Sebastian?" he asked Dean. "Because Sammy, she's in a new place and not sure they'll be nice to girls so she's pretending she's a boy." They put their bags down on the seat outside the shop, Sarah slowed and stepped into a stoop, interested to hear what they were talking about.

Dean pulled out the receipt and double-checked they had all the groceries they needed to last while Dad was away. Sam pouted at the ground, absentmindedly twirling the lollypop.

"I hate Shakespeare." Dean chuckled and ruffled his hair.

"I'll help with the essay don't worry kiddo, it'll be done in no time. You want lasagne for dinner yeah?"

Sam looked up at that and grinned, grabbing the majority of bags before Dean could. "Definitely, my favourite." Dean grinned back and took the remaining bags as they headed down the street, Dean with a slight limp. "I have do laundry first but if you do you're maths then I bet I'll finish first yeah?" Sam laughed as their conversation faded away form Sarah.

She smiled slightly at the view of two brothers, one only slightly shorter than the other, walking confidently into the sunset.

Sam had been correct. Dean didn't need that assignment to prove he was responsible enough for anything.