You Better Start Swimming Or You'll Sink Like A Stone

Chapter 2

1 month, 2 weeks Earlier...

"No, Sam, you didn't do anything," Dean replied, exasperated, to his eleven year old brother as he set down his backpack into the chair to the left of the motel room's door frame.

"But Dean it's only four. Why'd we have to go home? I was having a good time…"

"I know, Sam, I'm sorry. I just… Just wanted to cut it short today," Dean trailed off, preoccupied, as he grabbed his towel from his duffel and walked into the bathroom.

"Dean- are you okay?" Sam asked after a beat, watching his brother.

"What? Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, Sam," Dean replied with an easy smile. "M'a take a shower. Start on your homework and when I'm ready we'll head over, 'kay?"

"Okay," Sam replied casually, leaning back against the bed to reach for his backpack.

"Okay," Dean murmured as he shut the door.

Dean turned around in the small, bare motel bathroom and stared into the mirror. He sighed and shook his head, inwardly convincing himself that he was overreacting.

"So then… Dean!"

"What? What? I'm listening…"

"Okay so then Rob and I just decided to do the project using…"

But Dean had already zoned out again while they walked down the aisles. Dean didn't have a list; he didn't really need one, he was so used to grocery shopping by now. He just scanned the racks and found the staples as Sam babbled on.

It wasn't that he didn't care; he was half-listening, and he liked the flow of his brother's voice as he shared his day. It made Dean feel secure, sure that Sam was doing well in school, with his friends, just in general. Dean appreciated it tremendously, especially after the past few days.

"So, Rob and you are getting along, huh?"

"Yeah you met him at the playground earlier today."

"I did?"

"Yeah he's the kid that wore that sweatshirt that was way too big on him," Sam clarified, trying to jog Dean's memory. Dean was way past him, though, and Sam was surprised to see his brother's quite serious, almost angry, expression as he scanned the labels of milk and eventually pulled out the right brand from the refrigerator. "Dean-"

"The little guy?" Dean asked, and stopped, turning to look at Sam with a less intense expression: innocent curiosity, but serious nonetheless.

"Uh, yeah, well. We're all little to you, right?"

"Yeah but he was like little little, right?"

Sam shrugged, confused by Dean's description.

"He's smaller than me," Sam offered. Dean grinned and ruffled Sam's hair as he moved past him.

"Yeah and you're a runt," Dean joked. Sam turned around and followed Dean.

"I'm eleven, Dean. We're all runts to you," Sam replied bitterly, even though he was smiling.

"That's right," Dean confirmed absentmindedly. He swiveled around to Sam.

"Can you go pick up the cold slices at the butcher's? Should be ready by now," Dean asked.

"Yup," Sam grunted as he turned around and walked confidently back to the deli section. Dean looked after his little brother, worried. He couldn't shake it.

Sam walked up to the deli section, his eyes catching the guy behind the counter.

"Hey my brother ordered-"

"Yeah-" The guy said, turning around to look over at another guy behind the meat-slicer. The guy nodded and held up two fingers. "Two minutes, kid," the guy finished, looking at Sam.

"Okay thanks," Sam replied lightly, and decided to stare at the meat selection.

"Sam?" A voice spoke up right next to him and Sam flinched, surprised. Then he broke into a relaxed smile.

"Hey Mr. Rennolds, what's up?"

Sam was looking up at a bespectacled man in his mid-to-late 30s, smiling jovially back at him. He wore his usual slacks and oxford button-up which he habitually rolled up at the sleeves, as if he was always ready to manually dig into something even though he was an English teacher. He was Sam's English teacher at the middle school they had just enrolled in about two days ago.

"Not much what's up with you?" Rennolds replied, amused to have come across his student outside of school.

"M'brother and I are picking up groceries," Sam answered, gesturing at the meat-slicer.

"Ah and your brother is-?"

"Um I don't know he back over there somewhere," Sam answered again, gesturing to the other side of the grocery store. He looked back to Rennolds. "He's in high school, so you wouldn't know him," Sam supplied.

"Oh so you're the baby of the family, huh?" Rennolds said knowingly. Sam grimaced at this statement.

"I don't really like to be-"

"It's okay. I have a younger sibling, too, and they hate it when I call them babies, too," Rennolds added, chuckling. Sam didn't get it, but he went with it.

"Eh, yeah, heh heh," he said, rubbing his neck self-consciously.

"So, Sam-" Rennolds started, leaning into Sam's personal space. Sam gave a confused expression to the floor as he backed up a step and made an effort to look back up at Rennolds with an open, friendly appearance. "- I was hoping that at some point-" Then someone coughed.

"Kid, your order," the butcher grumbled loudly, snapping Sam out of what Rennolds was saying. He saw the guy slap the price sticker with the tag on it.

"Thanks," Sam said loudly. He looked back and forth between Rennolds and the butcher for a second. Rennolds looked like he was willing to wait for Sam to grab the order before he continued.

The butcher handed the plastic-wrapped order of salami, roast beef, ham, and turkey slices over the counter. Just as Sam was about to reach for it, yet another person had come up from behind him, brushing his back slightly, and exactly between Rennolds and Sam. For a second Sam was a little annoyed, but then instantly realized it was Dean at the sight and smell of the leather jacket.

"Thanks, man," Dean said as he grabbed the pack of meat and turned to look straight at Sam.

"Dea-"

"'Kay, Sammy, you ready? I got everything else," Dean spoke out seriously. Sam was totally confused: didn't he realize he was being totally rude to Mr. Rennolds?

"Uh, Dean, I want you to meet Mr. Rennolds," Sam stuttered out as he gestured to get Dean to turn around and notice the man that was literally inches away from his back. Sam was even further confused by Dean's pursed lips as he listened to his brother's words and eventually turned around.

"Ah! Hey sorry I didn't see you there," Dean laughed good-naturedly to the man behind him once he'd turned around. Sam couldn't help but give his brother the most obnoxious 'what-the-hell-is-going-on-with-you' face he could muster. Dean caught it and flew right by it; completely, willfully oblivious.

Mr. Rennolds, though, took Dean in stride and gave a great smile back.

"Oh it's no problem. I'm Mr. Rennolds, Sam's English teacher at Wilbourne," he introduced himself politely.

"Oh cool. Okay. So how's Sam doing?"

"Dean-"

Mr. Rennolds laughed.

"Well, he's only been in my class for two days, sooo… He's doing great," Rennolds replied with good humor.

"Great great. Yeah it'll be good to hear from Sammy about you, now, too." Dean's eyes crinkled and lips upturned with a smile. Sam glanced at his brother, then gave a double-take as he realized Dean's smile was not in his eyes. The smile wasn't real. But Dean just nodded casually, with that fake smile on his face. Rennolds returned it, but Sam didn't think his was fake. "I'll be able ta-" Dean squinted and leaned into Rennold's space a little bit; Rennolds didn't back away, "put a face to a name now." Dean gestured with his hand in front of Rennolds – the act of catching something and gripping it. Rennolds just kept smiling, and now Sam was thinking this was so weird. Dean moved away from Rennold's space and placed his hand on Sam's back, which Sam actively slapped away, irritated by this whole weird exchange.

"Good meeting you," Dean said, completely cheerfully.

"Yeah you too! Bye Sam!"

"Bye Mr. Rennolds!" Sam called out as he was being led by his brother over to the cashier.

Dean placed his hand on Sam's back again as they walked, and Sam slapped it away again.

"Dean what the hell was that? Why-"

"Sammy shut up," Dean whispered vehemently, in that voice. Sam stopped talking, and nearly stopped walking in surprise but for Dean's hand against his back pushing him forward gently.

"Okay. So what's the deal?" Sam asked seriously, dying to know what was up with what happened. Sam had given it a good think and had kind of connected the dots… But he needed to hear it from his brother because it was just too crazy. "You couldn't possibly think that Mr. Rennolds is like… Bad… Do you?"

Dean grimaced at this while they were putting away the food in the fridge and cupboards.

"No. I don't know," Dean mumbled.

"Wait, really?" Sam pushed, totally surprised that he had been on the money.

"Yeah I just get this weird vibe from him. He was at the playground before, too, earlier."

"Yeah but Dean. That's because he's the playground chaperone after school before kids get picked up."

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Seriously he's a really cool guy."

Dean shrugged as he put the cereal into a cupboard.

"Okay sorry," Dean replied as if it was nothing. Sam was still kind of gaping at his brother, but he felt better now that he'd put Dean at ease.

"Really it's not… There's nothing you should worry about. He's cool," Sam repeated. Dean just nodded.

"Okay. Hey," Dean looked at Sam and smiled, "That's what I like to hear."

Sam smiled, too, this time.

"So is that the reason we called it quits so early this afternoon?" Sam pressed.

"Yyyeah maybe. A little bit," Dean muttered, thinking over whether he should actually be telling this to Sam.

"Gees, Dean, I could've told you about him there if you were thinking that," Sam commented, still weirded out and wanting so badly to allay Dean's suspicions. Dean shrugged again.

"Sorry. I mean, I also wanted to get going. It wasn't all that guy or anything," Dean added, trying to lighten the mood. He didn't want to freak Sam out.

They finished unpacking the food.

"'Kay start on your homework. I'm gonna give Dad a call," Dean instructed. Sam had already started walking over to his stuff.

"Yeah," Sam commented offhandedly.

Dean sat at the table in the kitchenette and fiddled with the Nokia cell phone. He thought about Rennolds. The guy was creepy. He couldn't really put his finger on it, but there was something wrong with that guy. At the playground, he'd noticed it and it made him uneasy. He wasn't convinced by Sam's vouch for him; if anything it made him more worried that the guy was a teacher. Dean sighed and hoped he had just been around too much evil… That he was starting to see it where there was none.

Writer's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Title credit to lyric from Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A-Changin'" Thanks, guys!