Disclaimer: The author is in no way, shape, or form in any form of association with World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE), any of the wrestlers mentioned in this story, or anything else. I just wrote the thing. Please enjoy.
Warnings: Lots of cursing, underage smoking, and a lot of disrespect.
It's just like the first day of school all over again, Dean notes to himself as he listens to his parents – Mr. and Mrs. Cena, his Madre and Padre – ramble on and on about how Dean would have to behave himself now, because they were on a strict watch and it was a privilege for him to be in Vince McMahon's School of Excellence (VMSE, for short, apparently. Dean's going to call is Vamoose and see how long it takes before someone tells him to stop).Dean didn't really get what was so privileging about it. Sure, it was a great school to say you went to, but the owners weren't exactly his biggest fans and he knew already that they would be trying to do everything in their power to make sure he's out before he's even past Christmas break.
Of course, that's not how Madre and Padre were seeing it. They just wanted Dean to be on his best behavior so Mr. and Mrs. Helmsley-McMahon didn't have anything to throw him out over, but they should just know that's not going to happen. He would play along with their game for now though. In fact, knowing that he was playing along with their games explained a lot of things about how he looked today. He was dressed in a pair of jeans that didn't have very many rips in it and a nice tee with a decent pair of sneakers. If there was one thing that Dean was pleased about when it came to attending Vamoose, it was the fact that they weren't too strict on their dress code. They let their students wear whatever they wanted within reason. You were allowed to wear casual clothing as long as they weren't vulgar and they didn't look like they were falling apart. Most of Dean's clothes didn't fit the dress code due to all the burns and cuts in them, but they found something.
The only thing that Dean was wearing that wasn't in the dress code was his Batman hoodie, but he had stayed adamant in wanting to wear it despite all of the arguments his parents tried to use to talk him out of it. They learned quickly from the moment that they had started fostering Dean that he was not easy to shake and soon just gave in. Dean hated having to be a bad son, but he wasn't going to be the American dream son like John was.
That's what terrifies him the most about going to this school, if Dean was completely honest. To go to a school where an older sibling is already, to live in that shadow they had made, to try and force yourself to outshine them. And to have a sibling like John Cena, the American boy who everyone knew and loved, who was the Captain of the football team; it really made it hard to think about. Except, Dean didn't want to outshine John, not at all. He didn't want to be a John Cena. He wanted to be a Dean Cena (and God, did he honestly hate that name. While he had no contact with his birth parents anymore, he was going to be changing his last name back to Ambrose as soon as he was eighteen, he had already decided). Vamoose would never know what hit it when they finally got a sight of how bad Dean could actually be, because he would be nothing that they were expecting; especially if they were expecting him to be anything like his brother.
His head was already beginning to pound as Madre and Padre rambled on about something or another about Vamoose and the authorities that would probably be watching him, which they had been discussing for ages now. Dean hated thinking about it. He hated thinking about having someone's eyes on him at all times just waiting for him to screw up because screwing up is something that Dean's always been good at, from the moment he was born, from the moment he screwed up so bad that he couldn't see his baby brother anymore. The knot in his stomach twists enough to make him grimace, reminding him once again for the hundredth time since he learned he would be a Vamoose Superstar that he was going to be in the same school as him. As Seth.
They still hadn't spoken since that last faithful day, and from what Roman tells him, he doesn't think he wants to, but at the same time, just to know that he's doing okay and he was having a good life would be enough for Dean. Dean never felt like the connection between him and his other two brothers had ever been cut like the Helmsley-McMahon family had tried to cut it; Dean supposes it would all be in due time to see if the feeling was mutual with Seth like it was with him and Roman.
It had been a long morning since Dean was woken up by an alarm Roman had set the previous night before he had gone home so he could get an adequate amount of sleep himself. Dean had gotten up and showered, actively napping against the wall of the shower until he nearly fell before he really washed. After the shower, he had put on the clothes that Roman had laid out for him the previous night as well (because Roman was playing mother like he always does for his little brother) and then went down and got breakfast, where this whole big pep talk had actually started.
They were almost to the school and the pounding in Dean's head was just getting worse to the point where Dean's fists were clenching and he wanted to punch out the window of the car. He clenches his eyes shut, his breathing getting a bit rougher, and god damn it, it had been three months since his last breakdown and they're going to make him ruin his streak and that will surely get him kicked out of the damn school. Luckily, John, Mr. Golden Boy at his side, seemed to notice and mutters to his parents for a moment that Dean can't hear over the pounding in his head. When the car is stopping, he doesn't bother trying to say goodbye. He just gets out and heads into the school with his backpack – that he'll never use again after today – heavy against him.
He's been inside of the school before and basically knows where everything was, but as he enters the school, the pounding in his head is pushed away when he hears a familiar female's voice calling out his name. His head snaps into the direction and he sees two people working towards him – both adults. In fact, they were the infamous Hunter and Stephanie Helmsley-McMahon. He's immediately straightening up, pushing the hood of his Batman hoodie off of his head and arching an eyebrow, almost as if he's challenging them to say something. He's immediately digging into his bag though, pulling out a note and holding it towards them when they get close enough. It was a note from his last therapist, who he hadn't seen in over six months before his Madre and Padre told him to at least go talk to him for a while so they could get some form of note from him for Dean starting a new school. Dean hadn't bothered reading it, so he didn't know what it said as Hunter took it and read it over, handing it to Stephanie next.
She folds the note and holds it in her hand after she reads it, giving a tight smile as she looks at Dean. "Welcome, Mr. Cena, to Vince McMahon's School of Excellence. I'm sure you know a lot about it already considering your brother's been going here for four years already, but since you've entered so late in the school year, we thought that we would give you a quick tour to make sure you are not late to any of your classes," she says, her smile getting a sharper edge to it as she speaks. Dean is exasperated for more than one reason, but the two main ones are because wow, these guys are thinking in advance, aren't they? Making sure Dean knew his way around so he wasn't late to class so he didn't have any excuse for not being in them on time. And two, it's only a month into the school year. Did they expect all of their students to be geniuses about the school's layout already?
"Do I look like a Cena to you?" is what's immediately out of Dean's mouth before he could process what he's saying. John is entering the school behind him and Dean decides to use it to his advantage. "Because I'm technically not really a Cena. No blood relations; just adopted in." He grabs John by the arm, throwing an arm around his shoulder as he tugs him closer, patting his jaw. "See? I don't have this all-American, right and true jawline that my brother here does. I would prefer if you called me Dean, rather than that Mr. Cena crap. Especially considering you're a few decades older than I am, ma'am."
"Not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, Mr. Wayne," John is saying, trying to cover Dean's tracks like the fantastic older brother that he was, patting Dean on the chest where the Batman symbol was. Batman and Superman. The game they used to play as kids where the nicknames had carried over. "I've gotta football meeting before class. You behave yourself or I'll sign up to be our water boy."
"Empty threats make the world go round, Kent," Dean states, patting John's face again before pushing him away. "But yeah, I much prefer Dean to Mr. Cena. So, if you could indulge me in just that way and maybe I'll indulge you in letting you show me around so you can have a reason to kick me out if I decided to misbehave and be late to class."
John is acting like he didn't hear because he continues walking and Dean is in an almost heated stare down with the principal and vice principal of Vamoose. He just smiles, innocently, and they both drop their glare a few notches before they look at each other and just nod.
"Please, Dean, follow me and we'll show you to your locker and down which path you should take to your first class, which is…" Hunter is starting, trailing off as he pats himself, looking for a copy of Dean's schedule, but Dean already has it memorized.
"English II with Regal. Room 203. I get to my locker, walk down towards the cafeteria, take the stairs on the left, and then go to the right until I hit two-oh-three and I'm there. John says it should only take me about three minutes to get there from my homeroom if I'm good at forcing my way through a sea of students. Which I am, by the way. So, first class is covered. In fact, my brothers, Roman and John, they both helped me a lot already so you're really just wasting your time here. How about you go onto the second part as to why you're trying to show me around?" Dean drawls and he gets a sharp look from both of them.
"You better start showing us some respect or we're all going to have a bit of tension between us, Dean," Hunter is growling out and Dean looks at him in entertainment, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, waiting to see if that sharp look diminishes some, but it doesn't.
"We've had tension since I was barely 8 years old, sir," Dean says simply, but his voice was dropping to a cold tone. "And that tension's just been getting worse since you made a decision based on personal gain not to let me into this school last year. If you expected me to come in and be a good little puppy for you two, you're horrendously mistaken. I'm not here to be a follower. I'm here to learn and get the fuck out. If you have some tension you need to settle towards a teenager, sir, you should really talk to a therapist about it."
The tension thickens and Dean's half sure he's going to get socked in the face, but then Stephanie's hand is on Hunter's chest and she's taking the lead on all of this. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding here, Dean. Truly. We're just so stressed from fitting you into the schedules of our teachers when they thought they were fine for the year. I'm sure you're stressed from switching schools as well, but it seems you're pretty well prepared for everything that is being thrown your way. We're glad to hear that. But we're not entirely sure if you're familiar with the rules, especially since they didn't apply to you until today." They really are thinking ahead, making sure Dean knew the rules that he would surely break.
Stephanie continues, "I'm glad to see you're… mainly in dress code. I just have to ask that once you are at your locker and settling in that you take off your hoodie. Here at VMSE, we try to give our students as much freedom as we can within restrictions. We're just going to go over the simple things here. We do not expect you to be lingering in the hallways before classes start, but we understand if you want to talk to your friends some. You must be in the lunchroom if you are eating or drinking something, unless you have a doctor's note. We do not allow smoking anywhere on the school grounds. We do have cigarette smoke detectors in the bathrooms to make sure no one tries that move. We feel the need to warn students about it just in case they start to feel adventurous. We really don't want to have to expel any of our students." Well. Damn. That might be a problem, considering Dean had taken up the habit of smoking to try and keep himself calm and generally did it ever few hours. In fact, he had a pack in his backpack that he'd be putting in his hoodie pocket after he emptied the bag – because there was no way he would be taking the hoodie off anytime soon. He'd find a way around the no smoking rule. In his own little thought bubble, he misses the rest of what Stephanie is saying, but he catches sight of Roman coming down the hall and he turns into an excited puppy.
"Yeah, okay, got it. Rules and stuff. Thanks for the refresher, but I generally knew all of that. I've gotta go now, but if you think of anything else, come find me. You know my schedule!" Dean speaks quickly before he's moving around them and practically bouncing towards Roman who was arching a brow at him as Dean flings himself at him. "Ro~"
"Were you just talking to them about something important?" Roman huffs out, sounding just slightly disapproving, but otherwise amused. Roman really did understand Dean so well.
"No, 'course not. When has an adult ever said something important to me?" Dean asks in a scoff as he pats Roman on the shoulder. "You must hate this so much. You know. Having to see my ugly mug every day now. Not that you didn't before, but you at least got a break during the day. Now I'm going to be haunting your ass."
"Not exactly scared. Was worried 'bout you when you went to that other school," Roman huffs, continuing to move along now, Dean following behind him easily, a smile on his face that was always permanent when he was around Roman.
"Aw, Romie, you were worried about me?" Dean crows, gaining a few looks their way and Roman is shaking his head in exasperation. "That's so cute. You're always looking out for me. And with that being said, you should help me find my locker."
"Your locker? Shouldn't you already know where that is?" Roman questions, looking over at him and Dean just helplessly shrugs his shoulders, causing Roman to give a sigh. "Fine. Wasn't it in the East Hall? 117 or something?"
"You remember things so well!" Dean gushes, grinning as he smacks a loud kiss onto Roman's cheek. "You're such a smarty-pants!"
"And you're such a child," Roman says, giving Dean a good shove to get some distance between the two of them, causing Dean to smile wider just on principle.
"I'm not a child, I'm your little brother!" Dean states proudly, and that makes Roman smile and the whole conversation is dropped just because of that. It was always a discussion ender and Dean knew it and used it to his advantage. Roman never called him out on it so it's never had a true reason to end.
Roman shows Dean to his locker and tells him that he has to get ready for class now himself and leaves Dean alone again after a few moments of making sure Dean was going to be alright. It wasn't like Dean hadn't been on his own in another school for a year already, even though he had gotten into a lot of trouble.
Without meaning to, Dean notes that he hasn't seen Seth yet, but he assumes that's just normal. His parents are probably trying to keep him as far away from Dean as possible. He doesn't know if he's mad about it or not. He shuts his locker before he can really think too much about it, after packing everything up into the small space. He pretends he doesn't notice he's still wearing his Batman hoodie, but, of course, he does and he just wants to see how many teachers know enough about him to realize he did it on purpose.
He takes the slowest route to his homeroom and sits down as the teacher whose name he doesn't really care about takes attendance and then they're sent off on their way again. Dean takes the long way to his English class and actually regrets it when he realizes that the only seat actually left when he gets there is in the front row, right in the middle.
Dean begrudgingly takes the seat and feels eyes burning into him. All the curious high school students wanting some form of gossip, no doubt. He's not even bothering to pull out his notebook, just staring at his desk, slouched in his seat, being his general, cocky self. It's only when there is someone standing in front of him that he looks up. He immediately wants to punch the guy in the face.
It has to be his teacher. Mr. Regal or whatever. John had him too, but Dean's never seen him. The guy looks old and has this permanently smug look on his face. Dean doesn't know why he just wants to knock his teeth in just to get the look off his face. They're just staring at each other for a few moments, as if assessing the other, before Regal is walking away as the warning bell sounds and he's going to close the door. Not a word was spoken, but suddenly, Dean feels like he has everything to prove to this guy. Fuck. He's going to actually have to come to this class just to prove he's better than this fucking teacher. Maybe it's a tactic the Authority uses. Make their teachers smug bastards that make students want to prove them wrong.
"Dean Cena, I'm assuming," comes a masculine voice to his side, as Dean continues to stare at Regal, who is retaining his eye contact perfectly. "You know, I really don't think you should be looking at a teacher like that."
"Shut the fuck up," Dean states simply, watching the edges of Regal's lips quirk up but stay smirking and Dean is clenching his fists at his sides. "I don't do anything people think I should be doing, so why don't you mind your own damn business?"
"Oh, so you're one of those thug types," comes the voice from his side, sounding amused and smug and fuck, is Dean surrounded by smug assholes in this damn school? Dean tears his eyes away from Regal's smug ass face to look at the smug ass male to his side. He has dark hair and a slight beard and a wave of self-righteousness is just rolling off of him. "Well, since I know your name, I might as well tell you mine. My name is Damien–"
"I really don't give a fuck," Dean deadpans, cutting Damien off and staring at him hard for just a moment before the class bell goes off and the class is starting. It's not exactly the best way to make friends, Dean supposes, but he wasn't here to make friends.
They're talking about some play or something, Dean doesn't know and he really doesn't care, but at the same time, he listens and ends up getting into an aggressive debate with Regal that goes from 10 minutes before class ends straight through the bell. If Dean wasn't completely livid, he would have noticed how pleased Regal looked. All Dean sees is Regal holding up his hand and telling him he had better things to do than debate with a new student. Dean knows he probably seems like a child when he packs up his things loudly and stomps out of the classroom, but he doesn't care. He was going to prove he was better than Regal if it was the last thing he ever did in this damn school.
The next class Dean has is Chemistry and he really is glad he gets there in a relatively good time, because the teacher is terrifying. His name is Mr. Schyster, but everyone is telling Dean as they come in that they all call him 'IRS'. Well, Mr. IRS seats Dean next to this smoking hot girl, hot damn. Her skin is ebony and she's beautiful and Dean tries once to make a move, and is blown off, so there's the end of that. Dean immediately decides to apologize – because he knows he can come off as an asshole sometimes and he realizes that this probably happens to the girl a lot – and she just smiles and asks if he's Dean Cena. He confirms and he learns she's Alicia Fox and he makes a comment about how she certainly is foxy without thinking. You can't turn off your mind, he supposes. She just laughs. He makes a friend during that class, thankfully. He still doesn't understand why Mr. IRS is teaching high school when it looks like he could squeeze Dean's head off with his biceps.
The next class that Dean has is Geometry with Mr. Cole and it's his last class before lunch, with three more after that before he's finally free to break the rules again. Geometry is boring and Dean finds himself wondering halfway through how this Cole guy even survived high school. Seriously, you should see this tool. Along with hardly understanding how he survived high school in the first place, he didn't know why he would ever come back. Dean was going to make his life a living hell, but he needed someone to make Cole's life hell with. And he didn't think it would be this weird kid beside him who was muttering under his breath about some kind of cosmic key and was drawing constellations in his notes. Someone tell this freak he's in math and not science, please. Dean was going crazy here.
As Geometry ends, Dean is shooting out of his desk and finding himself prying his mind for if he asked Roman if they shared the same lunch period. He makes a truly aggravated noise at himself when he realizes that, no, he hadn't asked at all, and he was not going to be going to sit in the fucking lunch room potentially without someone to sit with. As he dumps all of his things into the locker, thinking over whether it would be worth his time to try and text Roman, he hears a strikingly familiar yet alien voice coming down the hallway.
The voice is cocky, arrogant, confident, and it's like someone is calling Dean home, but at the same time, Dean feels like the voice is nothing he's ever heard before. His body moves to turn in the direction of where the voice is coming from and when he sees who the voice belongs to, that knife is twisting deep in his gut and his heart lurches into his throat.
It's his baby brother, now with half of his hair bleached blonde and he was in a big group of people, walking like he owned the hallways. He was smiling – more smirking, actually; did everyone in this fucking school smirk? – and he lets out a laugh that suddenly makes Dean feel like he's found himself back home. Seth doesn't even spare Dean a look, though; him and his group walking right by him, all of them turning up their noses ever so slightly. Dean deserves that, he feels, but it still doesn't make the longing to just hold Seth in his arms like the boy had done when Dean had his breakdown so many years ago go away.
Dean is left staring after him, trying to force himself to look away, but failing. He realizes belatedly that they're all going towards the lunch room and he wonders for a moment if Seth's mommy and daddy noticed that they put them in the same lunch period, or if they did it on purpose to torment Dean by letting him know that Seth didn't need him. He's still staring after where Seth had walked away, his locker still open, when he feels someone smack him on the back of the head and his chin falls to touch his chest for a moment, but the gesture is familiar.
"Stop sulking and let's go eat, I'm starving," Roman is telling him, wrapping an arm around him and pushing the locker shut, putting his lock back on. Roman always knew how to handle Dean when he got into these moods that he often found himself in.
When Dean had found himself having his last breakdown three months ago, Roman had been there. It hadn't been like the rest of the breakdowns. Dean wasn't aggressive towards his surroundings, but he was aggressive towards Roman. He had tried his best to get one-up on the other, more muscular male. It hadn't ended very well for Dean, who ended up pinned to the ground and struggling for a good thirty minutes before all the fight had drained out of him and Roman had pulled him up and into his arms. It was the last time Dean had kissed Roman. The kisses never meant anything. It was just something that Dean did, really; a way of showing his thanks, more than anything. Roman didn't mention it after it happened, ever, and Dean didn't try to bring it up. It was just something Dean did.
Roman leads them to the cafeteria and then removes his arm from around Dean as he moves towards the line, expecting Dean to follow. Dean does and he just gets something random – which happens to be some kind of sandwich – and a water with a cookie. He doesn't know if he can eat without worrying about the food going through that wound in his stomach where that knife is still twisting, but he would certainly try.
His eyes find Seth without him realizing and their eyes connect for just a split second, blue on brown. Dean feels that knife dig deeper as he watches brown eyes snap away again and that's that. Dean's made it his mission to get under Seth's skin just like the other was under his.
Roman leads Dean to a table after they buy their lunches and there are already people there making space for them and some of them look vaguely familiar. Dean notices that's probably because some of them are football players and they've all come to Dean's house after games before. He sits down and no one really makes an attempt at talking to him until Roman introduces him to everyone as 'Dean Cena' and then they're talking to him like old friends. Fucking suck ups. He keeps up with the conversation just enough before he zones out, his eyes zoning in on Seth.
There was something about the way he held himself now. Something about the way he smirked instead of smiled and a certain look in his eye that made Dean think it was all an act. No high school student could be that fucking smug, could they? It was like everyone in this school thought they were better than everyone else and he wanted to run his head through a wall. Or, his fist into someone's face.
"I want to punch him in his fucking face," Dean mutters under his breath, but it catches Roman's attention, who follows his line of sight and is just shaking his head.
"You might want to, but I don't think that's too good of an idea," Roman tells him and Dean's lips are curling back some into a snarl, taking a bite of his sandwich finally before immediately spitting it out.
"God damn it. This school is expensive as fuck and they feed you this shit?" He's immediately complaining, opening his bottle in aggravation, hardly noticing how agitated he was getting until he's halfway through the bottle and shoving it away as well, Roman's hand pushing into his hair. "Fuck, I need a smoke."
"Smoking isn't allowed on school grounds," someone chips in from somewhere at the table and it sounds like just the challenge that Dean needs right now. "If you get caught, they'll expel you on the spot. Happened to someone already this year."
"Any of you going to rat out John Cena's baby brother?" Dean asks, already tapping at the pack that was in his hoodie pocket – and he faintly realizes that no one has told him to take it off yet. There's silence all around him and Roman's hand is sliding from his hair with a sigh. "I'm sure you've all heard the stories about me and what I can do when I get a little too stressed out. And if you haven't, let Ro here explain everything while I go have a smoke."
Dean is getting up, kissing Roman on the head as he does, grinning sharply, his nerves still drawn tight. The craving for the nicotine is deepening now that he's thought about it and he's headed out of the cafeteria, towards where he knew there was a set of bathrooms. Let's see just how fast they could react to cigarette smoke.
He finds himself in the bathroom, near the door for a quick escape and as far away from the cigarette smoke detector as possible. His foot was just in the door of the restroom and he lights the cigarettes and quickly takes a long, hard drag. He holds it, letting the effects take him over, before breathing through his nose, then is dropping the cigarette and putting it out and making a break for it, just like that.
He manages to get just around the corner before two security officers – guys shorter than him, what the fuck? – are coming around the corner, obviously wanting to catch him in the act, but look defeated when all they found was the cigarette.
"Leave it there for Hunter and Steph to see," the shorter of the two says, Dean ducking behind the corner as he looks around. "It's probably that new Dean kid playing mind games with us. I hear he's pretty unstable. I don't think I wanna get on his bad side. Kid's tall."
"Isn't that the truth?" the taller of the two murmur and there are the sound of two pairs of footsteps walking away back the way they came and Dean is dashing to get the cigarette from the floor. He manages to get it and was going to dispose of it in a random trash can, but as he turns the corner towards the cafeteria – while clutching the warm cigarette in his fist and putting it in his hoodie pocket – he nearly runs into none other than Seth Helmsley-McMahon.
He watches as Seth stares at him – a few inches shorter than Dean, but they're nearly the same height with Dean's posture – and he stares back all the while. Then, he watches as Seth's nose wrinkles in distaste and Dean realizes he probably smells his cigarette. He gives a lop-sided grin and leans in a bit closer.
"Don't tell on me, Sethie. My nerves are just through the roof. Just needed to calm down a little bit," he whispers into his former brother's ear, pressing just the lightest kiss against Seth's cheek, before he's walking around him and beginning to head back towards the cafeteria again.
"You're going to fuck yourself over if you don't start following the rules, Dean," Seth's voice follows him, his voice loud in the silent hallway and Dean pauses, bobbing his head along to the music in his head, before he's shrugging nonchalantly and looking over his shoulder with an easy smirk. Smirking. He could do smirking. He could play this game too, Seth.
"What's life without taking a few risks? Not a life I wanna live, that's for sure," Dean murmurs back. They just look at each other for another few moments before Dean's bringing his hand to his chest, tapping his fingers against his chest in a bit of agitation, but it was… lighter now, really. Not quite as bad. The nicotine still in his system. "See you later, Princess."
And with that, he's looking forward again. Seth doesn't reply, but Dean didn't expect him to. He thinks it's for the better. Seth didn't need to know how much Dean missed him when it was like the two-tone-haired boy hadn't missed him at all.
Well, this chapter wasn't exactly exciting but, I wanted to give you a look into the teachers that Dean has and how things are going with him. Some of the teachers are going to play a very important part in Dean's school life, that is for sure.
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Thanks so much for reading!
~Ash
