As soon as Dean gets close enough to the school, staying a good distance behind the Impala, the whole scene comes into full focus; the two story brick school building, the flagpole flying the stars and stripes, the few straggling kids walking into the building with backpacks, and amid the cars parked out front is, without a doubt, his car complete with the Kansas license plate that used to be attached to it up until about a year ago.
"Why are you guys in my town?" Lizzy asks while coming to a stop next to Dean, Sam stopping next to her on the other side. Neither answer while the two brothers watch with morbid curiosity as the driver's side door loudly creaks open.
John's tall frame unfolds and stands up, rubbing his tired eyes and looking around the area carefully, making sure it's safe for his boys to come out.
"Dad…" Sam whispers out. It felt surreal to see him again. He had darker hair than the last time he saw him. When John had died, he was much greyer than he was at this point in time. He also has thick sideburns and a clean shaven face much like Sam remembers him having when they were kids. The oversize leather jacket that was now in Dean's possession hugs his shoulders, the collar popped exactly the way Dean always wears it.
A child kicks open the back driver's side door and jumps out, his boots thudding onto the pavement before shoving the door shut behind him.
"He's not coming out, dad," the kid warns knowingly as he adjusts the collar of his canvas jacket to match his father's. "He's pretty pissed at you still."
Lizzy sighs loudly, knowing she's looking right at a young Dean. He's about four and a half feet tall, couldn't be older than eleven, but its surly him. The way he stands, the inflection in his words, everything about him confirmed it. That is without a doubt the man she loves… before he was a man of course. Grabbing tightly onto his full-grown hand as he stands next to her watching, she tries to gage Dean's headspace. The blank expression on his face gives nothing away.
"Watch your mouth, Dean," John lightly says down to his son, a hand ruffling his short blond hair. "And he'll come out. He always does." Dean gets an annoyed look and does his best to fix his hairstyle back to the way it was, using the side window's reflection to help him, as John walks around the car, opening the backseat door on the other side. "C'mon out, Sammy."
"I don't wanna!" the small voice shouts back without getting out of the car.
The expression on Sam's face as he watches can only be described as painful. This argument was an old one for his father and him. He regrets every fight like this he ever started as a child looking back on his life. In hindsight, he knows his dad did his best.
"You kinda have to, dude," John responds lightly with a sad smile, ducking down to look into the car. "What's going on? You love school."
"I don't want to go to another school, dad!" Sam heatedly returns and Dean shakes his head before walking to the other side of the car. He nudges John out of the way with a look that says he'll handle this one and leans into the car.
"Sammy, stop being so stubborn. You're gonna have fun like you always do," Dean reassures his little brother who is obviously tired of being the new kid.
"Please don't make me go, Dean," Sam begs back.
His little brother's pleads still break Dean's heart to this day. He remembers all the times Sam would melt down over this same issue and it hurt more every damn time.
"Please don't make me go without you, Sam," young Dean retorts
Dean whispers the same line at the exact same time as his former self, eliciting a surprised look from Lizzy. He remembers saying this very thing to Sam the first day at nearly every new school they went to for years. And he remembers it working quite well.
Dean continues to try. "I don't know the people in there either. I need you to come with me." He holds his hand into the open door to take Sam's.
"Don't be a liar, Dean! You don't need me!" the little voice rebuts loudly, not taking the hand extended his way.
"Not lying, Sammy," Dean fights back. "I'm scared. I need you with me, man. C'mon, don't leave me hanging." Dean keeps his hand extended for another minute before his brother finally takes it. Dean pulls him out of the car and as soon as Sammy is on his feet, backpack over one shoulder, Dean tucks the small, drooping shouldered kid under his arm.
"I remember this," Sam quietly says as he watches the scene unfold.
John shuts the back door of the car, proudly patting his older son on the shoulder in thanks, and the three make their way through the red front door of the school, disappearing from sight.
"This was our fourth school in like two months," Sam adds. "I fought dad the whole ride over."
"You're right," Dean says to his brother, the memories coming back. "You pitched a fucking fit before we even left the motel that morning, saying how mean dad was."
"Didn't want to be the new kid again," Sam recalls clearly now with a shrug of his shoulders.
"That ended up being a pretty common fight for you two," Dean adds.
"This is fucking adorable and all, but big picture here guys! What the fuck!" Lizzy asks heatedly as she turns around to face them both, reminding them just how insane their situation is. "You guys went to my school!"
"Looks like it," Sam answers. "We've been to so many schools that this one must have slipped our minds like most of them have."
"Yeah, I don't really even remember much about being in this town at all," Dean admits after searching his brain.
"Ok, let me try this," Lizzy evenly states while growing frustrated with the boys for not fully grasping the severity of this discovery. "What are the chances that you two just happened to randomly go to my school when you were little and it doesn't mean anything at all and it's an actual coincidence?"
"Slim to none?" Dean guesses.
"Non-fucking-existent!" Lizzy shouts back with balled up fists. "This is fucking crazy! What the hell is going on!"
"Ok, you need to relax," Dean tells her, grabbing her by the shoulders and staring straight into her eyes. "You're in public and you're ranting like a crazy person. We have nothing with us, no weapons, no I.D.s, no nothing, so take it down before you get us some unwanted attention." Dean peers around him, hoping no school kids or their parents were looking at them. They lucked out this time.
"This is insane!" Lizzy whispers her shout to Dean, repeating once more how unable to grasp what is happening she is.
"No shit," Dean quietly responds, walking her over to a park bench across the street from the school and plopping her into it. "Just calm down a minute and we'll figure this out. We always do."
Dean sits next to her and he watches her eyes dart all around her. She's gripped with panic, he can see it, and she's doing her best to keep it together. He grabs her hand, his little way to reassure her, and the corners of her mouth quickly lift with the contact before dropping again.
"We need a plan," Sam finally suggests as he walks over to them, stopping briefly at the newspaper vending machines next to the bench. One of the papers is the Free Press so he opens the door to grab one of those as he's fresh out of change.
"I need a fucking Valium," Lizzy remarks, keeping her voice down like Dean asked of her. Sam sits next to Dean on the bench and tosses the paper into his lap.
"October 1990," Sam tells them, giving them a frame of reference for the time they've been dropped into.
"I was in first grade," Lizzy thoughtfully tells them. "Mrs. Tomlin was my teacher. Louie and I were in the same class that year."
"What can you tell us about the school?" Dean asks her in an even tone, trying to make the conversation more businesslike for her.
"Um," Lizzy starts while training her eyes on the front of the school. Her head cocks to the side and her eyebrows knit together. "I can tell you that the grey station wagon parked in the front lot is my mother's. She taught sixth grade here for years… my mother is inside that building right now." The pain is clear in her statement.
"That must've sucked to be you," Dean quips, aiming to get her mind to relax and not crumble with the idea of her mom being alive and so close. "School is supposed to be a time to get away from your parents."
"Yeah, but if I ever forgot my lunch money, the parental cash machine was just upstairs," Lizzy rebuts while still searching the area.
"Wait a minute," Sam says with a concentrated look as he crunches the numbers in his head. "1990. That means if you were in first grade," Sam looks at Lizzy. "Then I was in second and Dean, you were in sixth."
"Makes sense," Dean returns, not really understanding at first what Sam is getting at. Sam exchanges a knowing look with Lizzy, assuming she's figured it out by now. The scowl on her face lets him know she has.
"Of course," she says sarcastically to Sam before turning back to Dean. "By chance do you remember the name of your teacher when you were here?"
"Nah," Dean admits as he scours his memory. "Hmm, but if I'm thinking of the right school I do remember that she was kinda hot."
Lizzy rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Son of a bitch.
"Mm, you know what? I think this is the place. Damn she was awesome. Long dark hair, tight little body on her, and she never took any of my shit, which was kinda why I liked her," Dean continues. "She was a challenge, I loved that, and I think I got her to like me in the end. Oh and she used to look down over her glasses at me when I was being my usual pain in the ass self and give me this look like she was pissed…"
"Kinda like this?" Lizzy asks seriously, pointing to her own face while tilting her head forward and staring him down while annoyed. The light bulb finally went on for him.
"A lot like that actually," Dean grimaces as he realizes he'd had a crush on Lizzy mother way back when. "No wonder I had a thing for her, huh?"
"My head hurts," Lizzy responds while leaning forward and clutching her head in her hands. "That's so creepy."
"Ah. Mrs. Noonan," Dean absentmindedly comments while recalling the lovely woman in his mind, not thinking twice about the inappropriateness. "What a MILF."
"Not now, Dean," Sam tries to stop his brother from making matters worse for Lizzy.
"Dude, she called dad a DILF before," Dean tries to defend himself. "Payback, man. Plus, they say if you want to know what your future with a chick looks like, just look at her mother… well I'm a' looking and I'm a' liking."
"Time and place, dude," Lizzy sternly reminds him, once again the lesson she tries to impart onto him gets lost.
"And you're forgetting that the rest of us have never been crapped out on the other side of a worm hole before," Sam reminds Dean. "We're not exactly as comfortable as you are right now."
"Well you better get comfortable fast. We're here and we've got some shit to get done, you little pain in the ass," Dean says, jabbing his brother in the ribs with an elbow. Something about seeing himself as a kid has made him want to revert back to that time a little. He forgot how fun it can be to get on Sam's nerves, especially with how distant they've been in the past few months.
"Dude, cut the shit. I was like six," Sam responds, shoving Dean's arm away from him. When he feels Dean flick his ear, he starts to lose his composure. "Dean!"
"Sam!" Dean patronizingly calls back.
"Uh oh," Lizzy's worried voice calls to them as they all turn to see John Winchester back at his car, paused with the driver's side door open and staring straight at the three people on the bench. Sadly, none of them noticed when he came back out of the school and it looks like they've revealed themselves to him. Lizzy sends an easy smile his way, hoping to ease the tension, but John's concerned and suspicious look remains trained on the two men next to her.
Dean grins and waves John's way, hoping to do the same, and through his fake smile wonders aloud, "You think he heard us?"
"Definitely," Sam returns, trying to answer quietly. Eventually they watch as John shakes his head and gets back into the Impala. The car starts up and rumbles off down the road and the three hunters exhale loudly.
"Oh, that can't be good," Dean grumbles.
"Not at all," Sam agrees.
