Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.

E/O Challenge: Raw. 100 and 700 word drabbles about adapting. #1: Dean's adjusting to being back. #2: Dean's tried to adapt to his environment. A teacher misunderstands.

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Adaptation

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A/N: Dean's adjusting to being back. Set post-season 7.

Adapting to Change

Despite the initial joy of having his brother back from Purgatory, Sam soon noticed peculiarities in Dean's behavior.

Dean seemed skittish in enclosed places; Sam hadn't thought anything of him leaving the bathroom door open, but the shower cubicle was another matter.

It was a warm evening, so Sam suggested they have a cookout. He sent Dean to get the food started outside, while he mopped up.

Dean waved a plate of steaks under Sam's nose. "These're great," Dean grinned through a full mouth.

"How 'bout we light the grill first?" Sam asked, putting the raw meat to one side.

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A/N: Dean's tried to adapt to his environment. A teacher misunderstands. Set approx. 1994.

Hiding in Plain Sight

Henry considered himself a good teacher, but he despaired that the new boy might already be lost to him.

It seemed such a waste that his most careful, conscientious student insisted on posing as a bad boy with an affected air of studied indifference. The young man's quick wit meant he was always ready with a calculated, smirking comment that could be relied on to skirt, but never quite cross, the line into outright insolence.

He was a good looking kid, and the girls seemed to swoon over him, but he seemed to do his best to keep everyone at arm's length. From the boy's clothes it was clear to Henry that the family were poor, but a well-drilled, military-like bearing meant he lacked the slovenly appearance and poor punctuality of many of his peers which made him stand out from the herd. Despite this, it was so evident that the boy was keeping his head down and trying to remain unnoticed. In class he never raised a hand to answer a question, but when called on he could often be relied on to have the right answer.

As if on cue, the young man relented in removing one of his many layers in reaction to the stifling heat of the classroom. Henry paused as he caught sight of the pattern of old scars and fresh bruising on the boy's arms and neck. It wasn't the first time he'd seen injuries on the young man, but the wounds around the boy's throat looked like the finger marks of an adult.

The final bell of the day signaled the sudden stampede for the exit.

"Dean?" The name was out of his mouth before Henry had had time to gather his thoughts.

The boy had already replaced his shirt having noticed the source of Henry's attention. He paused halfway to the door, with a tensed back toward Henry. "Yes, Mr. Bergh?" he answered with just the faintest hint of irritation.

"Things okay at home, son?" he asked, as the boy turned to face him.

"Everything's fine, thank you... sir," Dean said. Henry's heart clenched at the look of fear on the young man's face.

"It... doesn't look fine to me."

Dean didn't answer, but his hand jerked up, only to drop back down again as if he'd just remembered in time not to bring any more attention to his injuries.

Henry played his ace card. "Is this what you want for your brother? Is this the life you want for Sam?"

Dean flinched. It almost made Henry feel guilty; the younger brother was such an obvious Achilles' heel.

"No, Sammy's not involved." Dean's tone was both abrupt and defensive.

"How long do you think you can protect him from what's going on?"

"Sammy already knows."

Henry rubbed at his face in agitation. "So, how long till he gets hurt too?"

Dean frowned. "This isn't for him, Sam's smart. He's got a future. I look out for him."

"And when you're gone?"

"I'm not going nowhere. This is my life, so it doesn't have to be Sammy's..."

"You don't have to live like this; you could both have a future."

A moment of raw emotion flared in Dean's eyes, a light of hope that seemed to fade before it even started.

"I have a life, Teach. It's all mapped out. Just forget about me."

"I can't let this carry on, you know that, don't you?"

"You've got it wrong," Dean glowered as he took a half step forward, before coming to a halt. "It's not what you think."

Henry felt a stab of fear at the look of intense anger in the boy's face. A brief moment later the emotions faded into resignation for both of them.

"I have to go pick up Sam," Dean muttered and stalked from the classroom.

Henry waited until Dean was gone, then walked to the administration office and called child protection services.

Later Henry discovered he was too late; by the time the police arrived at the contact address, an old motel on the edge of town, the Winchesters had already gone.

Dean didn't come back to school the next day and Henry never saw him again.

(;,;)