Title: Greatest Fear
Pairing: None, Implied brotherly Sam/Dean
Warnings: Wee!Chester and Teen!Chester/Odd!Sam
*Notes: I'm Canadian so I'm not sure about US schools but I'll try.
Mrs. Harris looked over the thin wiry frames of her glasses at the thirty odd students writing in front of her. For today's assignment the middle aged teacher had given her grade five class twenty minutes to write a one page piece on their greatest fear, once everyone was done they would read them aloud at the front of the small classroom.
Trying to give her students a range in which to be creative in Mrs. Harris had allowed any and all works, and as she looked over each child's shoulder she saw everything from poems to stories. This exercise was one that the stern teacher did not do frequently, in fact this was done to give her an idea of the comprehension level of her newest student, Sam Winchester.
Sam had joined the class a little over two weeks ago and in that time he had yet to say more than two words to her. He was smart, that anyone could see, any question Mrs. Harris threw at the boy came back with a correct if not cryptic response.
Looking down to pick at a loose thread on the cuff of her white blouse, Mrs. Harris continued to wonder about this strange boy sitting in her class. While Sam himself had no black marks against him, his older brother had enough for two. The brother was what Mrs. Harris considered a hoodlum, he was a high school student and yet he still came by her school everyday before, during lunch, and after hours. Mrs. Harris had trouble believing that was all for Sam.
Sam himself was unusually quiet today, sitting at his desk in the far corner at the back barely looking up at the black board at all. He did seem to be very focused on what ever he was writing about. Smoothing down her cannery yellow skirt Mrs. Harris began making her way over to Sam intending to ask if he needed help, however it was not meant to be and half-way across the room the teacher was called to another student with a spelling question.
Minutes later and back at her desk, Mrs. Harris idly pushed a lock of her most salt than pepper hair out of her face wondering if she should dye it. Glancing up at the clock the woman saw that the class was actually a few minutes over her deadline and Mrs. Harris then called the attention back onto her.
"Alright class, do I have any volunteers to go first?" She asked, immediately receiving a number of hands the teacher started putting names up on the board to show everyone's place in line.
The next half an hour was spent listening to many different epic, essays, poems and stories about spiders, heights, the dark and a very in depth paper on Freddy Kruger by Jonah Moore, leading Mrs.. Harris to believe half her class would be having nightmares that night.
With almost all the names on the board erased Mrs. Harris noticed that through it all Sam Winchester seemed to never even raise an eyebrow, of course the works were littered with mistakes and improper grammar but even Mrs. Harris had to agree with the one written about snakes. Sam it seemed was not bothered by any of the traditional fears.
Curious to hear what he had written Mrs. Harris called the boy up to the front to tell his tale.
The first thing she noticed was him attitude, instead of being nervous or antsy like the rest, Sam appear collected waiting for the class to settle so he could read his work in peace.
With a nod from her Sam began read with a voice deeper and more calm than Mrs. Harris thought possible from such a young child.
"If you ask each person their fear you will come away with a list taller that the sky and more diverse than the clouds," He began, "Some fear of the things they can see, the things with appendages to reach out and touch. Others cower from the things they will never see the darkness with it's cold, or the touch that ghosts along their spine. Not matter how different these fears appear they are all birthed from the same place, the place within us that holds our sins, the place that we must have to be human and the place we must do away with to be happy."
"Our minds determine our every waking and unconscious moment, they are the reason we are blind to the real evils around us. I see these evils everyday but they cannot be my greatest fear because I know that deep within another's mind is the fear of losing me. Because of that fear anything of that darkness will never touch me."
"However while we can fool ourselves with ideas of our bodies our selves, it is idiotic to think we own our minds. Our minds run rampant with thoughts of pain and sorrow and death, our minds imprison us with fear. They lead us to believe that insects, falls and mythical beings will end us and in doing so they control us."
"Our minds posses, manipulate, abuse and contain us but no matter how it pains me to admit, my greatest fear is ironically to lose my mind itself."
Stunned into silence Mrs. Harris couldn't think to look for issues or comment on the purple prose that appeared, all she did was watch as Sam walked back to his seat, watched as Dean came to get him, watched as he left one day and didn't come back.
When she looked back on it now Mrs. Harris was never really surprised by Sam. He shocked her but those eyes of his were too old to ever convince her of a deficiency. All Mrs. Harris knew was that for a boy like Sam Winchester his fear could never be a reality. Too bad she was wrong.
A/N: Would you believe me if I said I meant for this to be a happy-ish piece? Whoops.
Like it? Hate it? Review it? First Supernatural fic ever but that doesn't mean you can't flame, if this sucks let me know. I hate when I think something was good and I look at it later and go "Why did no one tell me this was awful?"
('.') Hug because everyone needs one.
Love and luck,
ShadowNala