Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural.
Summary: Rule one of Millhaven High; everyone knew it; no one doubted it: You never raced Dean Winchester.
The Rules of Millhaven
It was all over town. The new guy was crazy. Kid was driving his dad's old classic and riding it like a pro nascar driver. Or so the talk went. Dean Winchester was the high school king. In comparison only very few people even knew Sam existed.
The quiet one of the two. Liked by a few good friends, whereas Dean had attracted quite the entourage. Most of whom were women – or rather high school girls, compared to Dean's already extensive experiences with the fairer sex. But whenever Dad was in town it was real damn hard to explain the presence of twenty-something power-women in a 16-year-old's bed, so he kept the cradle-robbing dates to a minimum.
The tall boy revved the engine with a foreboding smile on his face. This was too easy. Most these kids were upper-class. Racing their parents' hand-me-down Porsche 911s. German crap as far as Dean was concerned. Couldn't hold a candle to American muscle.
Baby with her pristine 348 cubic inch 8-cylinder V-engine, with a somewhat outdated single plane crankshaft for better acceleration – all custom made by John – screw the heavy vibrations. Those were the best part of driving anyway. All those sissies with their convertibles in flashy colors. Dean never really wanted anything but a big, black car. Plus the racing was making quite a lot of walking-around money.
Not that Dad ever needed to know what his son did every Thursday through Saturday after dark.
Current opponent was Thomas Jefferson – no shit. Dean guessed his parents just had a twisted sense of humor. Or perhaps some very distant descendants? They certainly looked the types with their four-car garage and three story house on the "good side" of Millhaven. Dean scoffed. What did these people know about life?
Had they ever faced off against a werewolf or ghost they would've pissed themselves.
"This is insane." Sam muttered.
And oh yeah, another reason John could never ever know about Dean's secret passion: Whenever John wasn't home Dean was in charge of everything "Sam". That meant not leaving his kid brother of only thirteen home alone while Dean went to get his adrenalin kick. Not that Sam minded much unless it cut into his studying.
He even brought friends along sometimes, to the great annoyance of the kids Dean's age. What the hell were all those pubescent snots doing there anyway? But the older kids left Sam alone because they knew who Dean was.
He revved the engine for show and was thrilled to see a line of girls giggle deliriously. The only current problem was that Sam was shielding his view of them. "Dude, move your skinny ass outta the way." He nudged him aside and spared the hordes a fresh grin. More giggles. "Is this heaven, or what?" Dean whispered to his less-than enthused brother.
Sam rolled his eyes and moved back into Dean's line of sight. "Just keep it on the road this time. Pass him, ditch him and collect. I wanna be home before nine."
"What? You got a hot date with the TV?" Dean leaned around his brother and caught a glance and Cindy Lucas. As gorgeous as her name indicated, she was the darling of the school. Five four with legs for half of it, honey blond hair and not an imperfection in sight. Sharp as a tack and one of Dean's current love-interests. Not counting the five other girls he was meeting regularly in various broom closets around school or the twenty-something that only Sam knew about.
"What's it to you?" He had that look he had whenever he threatened to tell Dad about Dean's twenty-something frillies, not that he ever did. Brothers didn't narc.
"You're spending a lotta time at home lately. What happened with that…Julie-something-"
"Julia."
"Yeah…" Dean grinned at Cindy and thought of the hero-worship she had going for him. All the unadulterated fun it led to. "What happened?"
Sam shrugged in that awkward way of his, slumping and looking at the ground like it was covered in math-notes. "Nothin', Dean." meaning Dean would not be seeing Julia anymore. Sam had a nasty tendency to push people away once they got too close. But screw it, all the Winchesters had intimacy issues and Sam was still a kid. Might be it wore off when he found the right one. Or got horny enough, Dean mused. "Probably won't see her around though."
"Aww sorry, Sam." He clapped his shoulder and snuck another glance at his fan-base. "Maybe Cindy has a couple a friends that wouldn't mind doing a freshman?"
"Dean!" The squeal elicited one of the rare laughs from him that Sam secretly loved.
"Don't be such a prude, Sammy." He did the unthinkable and ruffled Sam's hair before sitting back and looking way too satisfied with himself. Sam hastily backed out of his brother's reach. "The race is about to start."
Sam remained stubbornly pouty and crossed his arms, but Dean didn't even bother to notice.
He leaned out in a conspiratorial manner and sent round eyes up at his kid brother. "Also I think the guys might laugh if they heard you scream like a little girl."
Sam huffed and removed himself further from his brother's presence. "I'm so telling Dad." he muttered, though with no real heat. "When does it start anyway?"
Just then someone shouted and Dean grinned up at him. "Sit back and watch the master in action."
"Yeah, I hear Thomas Jefferson got the Porsche tuned this time around just so he had a chance at beating you." He looked way too smug with that piece of information at hand.
Not that Dean was bothered. "The only chance he has is finding a free space behind Wendy's to jerk off when Cindy comes home with me."
"Arh god," At that moment Sam couldn't be less appreciative of the fact that he shared a room with his brother. It meant another night of sleeping on the couch. "Just go." he whined and waved him along.
Dean saluted and obliged the request, grinning at the prospect of a night's fun with Cindy. He pulled up to the line with T.J. right beside him. The Porsche sounded pathetic compared to the throaty rumble of the Impala's massive innards. Puny rear engine piece of crap. True to style a lovely girl, whom Dean couldn't care less about beyond her physical attributes, stepped up to the line with one of her mom's scarfs handy.
"Ready?" She looked at both drivers, relishing the only moment in time when she was completely in control. Dean smirked. And grownups thought only guys were gearhead control freaks.
"GO!" She lunged the scarf down and allowed the two cars to fizz down the road.
Dean knew every inch of his baby. He had lived in that car since he was four years old. Right from when he was too young to sit up front with John to the day Dad handed him the keys with a lopsided smirk and a word of caution "Don't mess her up". Dean knew that car. And as evident as that had been since the first time he and his family stepped foot in the small town, Jefferson had still dared him to a second race. Moron.
He chuckled when the speedometer hit 80 and kept climbing. Thomas was falling behind and Dean saw him shift as violently as possible in his rearview. "Too soon." The Porsche gained a few feet on the black classic, but only until Dean pressed the gas just enough to induce a specific sounding growl from the engine and shift.
The outside was fizzing by in a blur of black and blue. Nothing else mattered than keeping his car on the road and ahead of Thomas. These few seconds of thrill were what made Dean so damn happy. The hunting too, but that was quickly becoming too similar to a day job ever since John started sending him out canvasing. Talking to people and researching were the less fun parts of hunting as far as Dean was concerned.
The fun parts were plenty. The danger. The air of mystery that was like catnip to women. The ability to pick up and leave a town with one day's notice. Those were the fun bits. The freedom.
He pressed the gas down a hair and let out a triumphant smile as he crossed the quarter mile mark with Thomas two lengths behind. Easy money. The pretty-boy wasn't going to be happy about giving his money away to Dean a second time around. Dean couldn't care less. If the asshole had any objections he was more than welcome to voice them. Of course that meant he opened himself up to an old-fashioned asskicking as well.
He rolled back to the cauldesack where the crowds were waiting. Cindy had pressed half her body through his open window in seconds and had practically lunged into his arms the second he was out. Even Sam seemed to be enjoying himself with a couple of his own friends. Well, maybe enjoying was a bit much. He was talking and not being bothered by any of the older kids. Dean called that a win.
Cindy kissed him and quickly all brain activity ceased, leaving only the sensation of her in his arms. It was shaping up to be a night of fun, just as advertised.
The celebrations were abandoned in favor of a more private setting. Cindy rode shotgun which annoyed Sam more than the kid let on. A couple of the kids promised they'd be by and pick Sam up later, which meant Dean and Cindy had the apartment to themselves. Brighter days, Dean thought, always keep a lookout for those brighter days.
Sam hastily escaped onto the front porch, where he promised he'd stay and wait for his friends, while Dean ushered his real-life Barbie doll inside the apartment. They'd been there longer than usual. It meant John had to travel longer for each hunt, but also that Dean got to get his GED before they moved on. Sam had latched on to the news like a puppy with a bone. Little did he know that this was longest he would ever stay in one place until he left for college.
To both brothers these were the brighter days. Almost like a vacation had it not been for school, but Dean had ways around that while still keeping his average above F. Not that John would approve, but Dean figured he was safe as long as he graduated.
The night heated as concerns were forgotten in the presence of a very nimble Cindy. She always complained about her mom forcing piano lessons on her, but Dean wouldn't trade them for anything. As far as he was concerned Cindy's hands were gifts to mankind.
He hardly registered it when Sam poked his head in to inform he was leaving with friends. It was good to see his brother go out and enjoy himself, plus it meant more fun-time with Cindy for Dean. He lost track of time to the extent that he was surprised when his phone chirped with an incoming call. It took seven rings before he picked up, slightly irritated over having his play date interrupted. "What!" He tried to get his breathing under control. "Sam, I swear-"
"Dean," He sounded a little timid.
As he damn well better be, interrupting me at a time like this, Dean thought. "What. What is it?" In spite of himself he pulled himself to his elbows and focused intently on the wall. Cindy was tickling his arms and humming placidly. Dean smirked in the knowledge that dating older women had bountiful perks.
"Could you. Could you maybe pick me up?"
He sighed and glanced at the clock. "Where are you?" Because no matter what, Dean was a brother first. Having a car and a license didn't just mean more freedom, it meant more responsibility.
"On the corner of Twelfth and Mirror."
He sighed again, because freedom and responsibility meant dumping a purring Cindy back at her place. "Sure. Gimme fifteen minutes." He snapped the phone shut and turned to his smiling teenage dream. "That was Sam. Gotta pick him up. His friends ditched him."
"Aww." she whimpered. She was an only child, as evident by her complete lack of understanding for Dean's bond with Sam. "Just tell him to get a cab." She hitched herself up and kissed his neck. "Stay here with me."
And Dean really would rather stay with her, but duty called. "Sorry," He rolled out of reach of her soft lips and hopped into his clothes. Most of them were in the room despite the hormones that had whipped both teenagers into bed with the speed of wind. She moaned again and rolled back a second. Dean watched her fondly while he shrugged into a shirt. God, I love nipples. She snapped her eyes open and got out, deliberately letting him know what he was giving up.
"Maybe I should just go find Thomas? He looked pretty upset that he lost to you."
She had picked up a previously discarded dress, but was still in her birthday suit when Dean pulled her close and kissed her. "Keyword being lost."
She smiled when he let her go and returned to the task of putting on clothes. What would his father say if he saw him now? She skipped out of the room and climbed down the front entrance steps and over to his car without preamble. Dean swung his keys around his index finger and scouted the dark street out of habit. It would be a couple more days before John was home. A lot could happen between now and then.
They climbed in and Cindy was dropped off with a quick kiss. Dean sped off before she was even in the door. The very best part about Cindy was that she just didn't care. She didn't care that Dean didn't care, because she just. Didn't. Care. He liked girls like that. Low maintenance.
The smile was still on his face when he pulled up to the streetlight on the corner of Twelfth and Mirror. A figure was huddled on the sidewalk with his knees drawn up. As soon as the yellow light caught Sam's face that smile melted off. "What the hell…"
His brother tried to stand though it obviously caused him a lot of pain to do so. Dean was out the car and by his side in two seconds flat. "Who did this?" The big brother took over almost instantly.
"Thomas and a couple of friends." Sam squeezed out between his teeth. "It was nothing."
Dean was supporting him by the arm and could damn well see is wasn't nothing. "Looks like they broke your face, Sam." Anger was already making its way out at the sight of his brother in such disarray. His jeans jacket was a little ripped. Dad was gonna notice that. "Shit."
Sam hissed when he climbed back into the car. "It was nothing, Dean."
Dean knew what he meant. The bastards had probably gotten in a few good swings, but he felt pretty sure they sported worse bruises than his brother. "A bunch of seventeen year olds beating up a thirteen year old isn't nothing," he growled and threw the car into gear.
"So call the cops." Sam looked in the side-mirror and disgustedly licked some of the dried blood and snot from his nose off his lips. He wiped the remaining off with his sleeve.
"Is it broken?"
"No." He sniffed to test. "Why?" He turned wide eyes to Dean. "Does it look broken?" He turned back to the mirror and gingerly pressed the bridge, making a face as he did so.
"Looks fine. Besides the blood it looks fine." Dean growled with his eyes on the road. "Shit, what did you say to piss them off?" His anger was still running rampant along with the hormones in his system after screwing Cindy.
"Nothing!"
"Must've said something, Sam!"
Dean didn't know it yet, but when he got angry he sounded too much like Dad for Sam to fully relax. "They were talking about you behind your back and I told them to piss off."
"And your friends?" Dean was pissed at the kids for leaving Sam high and dry. You didn't do that to friends. Didn't matter one bit to him that they would've gotten beat up right alongside him.
"They backed off and I didn't." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Dean growled.
"You need new friends."
"You need new friends." Sam spat back at him.
"Hey I wasn't the one who left your ass behind the second some punk got in your face." He accompanied the justification with a jabbing index finger.
Sam sighed, not really bothered by his brother's anger. "Just get us home, ok?"
"Shit." Dean felt the word didn't quite suffice, but didn't want to launch into some of the more colorful phrases he was saving for Thomas. "Gonna find that bastard and punch his face in."
"Already did that." Sam was tilting his head back and looking up his nose for any signs of a break.
"Course you did," He growled, slightly proud of Sam for not being a girl about it and for swinging right back at them. "I'm just gonna punch it in a little more. Make sure he looks like a pug when I'm done with him."
That made the teen snort and wince when pain lanced through his nose. "Ahr, don't make me laugh."
Dean glanced over. The relief over seeing Sam amused was slightly overshadowed by the fact that his nose was now bleeding again. "Maybe you do need a hospital?"
"You think?" He looked over, expecting and trusting Dean's word to be the truth. The universal, undeniable truth.
Dean bit his lip. "Not sure." He knew what John would've said. A "It's not broken, just bruised. Couple of aspirin and a bag of frozen peas will take care of it", and a grunt on his way out the door. Not really caring for his father's tough love, but not having any other example to follow, he simply parroted the imagined advice. "A bag of peas and you should be fine." He knew a punch like the one Sam had received could kill a man. He was just happy Thomas Jefferson was taller than his brother. "Gonna have a pretty awesome bruise come Monday morning though."
"What will Cindy say?" He was leaning his head back and trying to look out the windshield at the same time. Almost impossible.
Dean grinned. "Watch it."
"Might have to pick your runner-up when she starts swooning over me."
"Swooning?" He snorted. "Never gonna happen."
Sam chuckled, careful not to exhale through his nose.
Dean was still pretty fucking far from 'happy' but the fact that Sam seemed ok helped push him closer to normal. He was still gonna give that Jefferson kid the lesson of a lifetime come Monday. Wasn't kidding about that.
The silence was allowed to fester until the younger brother couldn't take it anymore. "So how did it go with Cindy?"
Dean huffed through a smile. "Diary worthy stuff, Sam." He reached over and ruffled the teen's hair. "Definitely diary-worthy."
The rest of the ride was made in silence. Sam was given a pill and a bag of frozen chicken nuggets when the two boys returned home. And come Monday morning Dean found Jefferson before the second period and beat the crap out of him.
Rule two of Millhaven High; everyone knew it; no one doubted it: You never messed with the Winchester boys.
AN: How was that?