Rating: PG-13/K+
Beta: tseecka (yay!)
Disclaimer: Still don't own any of these characters, I can only claim
my characterization and my understandings of these folks. I can,
however, 100% verify that this is my writing. All of it. Yep.
Warning: Mild language, mild plot, mild references.
Summary: Sam begins a new, short day of class that becomes
unbearably long when he learns it's a course he shares with Gabriel
Descieux and receives a piece of even worse news.
Author's Notes: London is hot a humid and I've been working right
in the middle of it all, so I must apologize for the delays…again. I
should also take this time to say some thank yous.
First off, many thanks to andlatitude again for the encouragement and
for helping spark this story, for listening to me ramble off ideas and
scenes at stupid o'clock in the morning, for responding so amazingly,
and for all the inspiring art. Aside from that, she's an indispensable
friend all round. I say the same to getthesaltnburn, tseecka, remivel,
swordcane, and anyone else I have inflicted with my enthusiasm and
derp with regards to this story. Thank you to rosemcphee and
praisethemoftiss for helping me expand my potential audience. Thank
you to everyone reading, reviewing, and favouriting this story. Thank
you for reading in the first place, for your reassuring and uplifting
words, and for your patience. Also, one final set of thank yous to
Colombia for all the coffee I've imbibed, England for all the cheeses
I've sustained myself with, and my grandparents for investing their
time and patience in me, and for helping me fix most of my computer
problems.
It was lucky that Sam had set alarms on his phone before classes had even begun as he was completely dead to the world, deeply unconscious for over ten hours before the irritating drone roused him. He shifted, groggy and grumpy and not at all enthusiastic about the day's lessons, regardless of what they may be. When reality kicked in, when he finally realized he had only half an hour to get everything in order and get to class, he panicked and started to give much more of damn, legs tangling in the sheets as he bolted up from the bed and over to his clothes. There'd be a queue for the facilities, he knew that already, so instead he rushed through most of his dailies in the kitchen sink, leaving only the essentials for the bathroom just before he headed out the door to school.
It was also lucky that Sam could reach Merill Hall's Environmental Studies wing in 15 minutes at a bit of a run and, though exhausted, he managed to make his class with a fair bit of time to spare. The hallways were nearly barren, a few people loitering around the open doorway and signs of a few more heading in, and Sam wondered briefly if the class was surprisingly unpopular or if he'd arrived far too enthusiastically early. He peered around the corner of the door, testing, anxious, and laughed in relief; the room was heaving with students and looked near enough full, a completely occupied class, and for good reason: the entire course was merely three weeks long, no doubt screaming easy marks to the vast majority no doubt.
"You know, none of them are going to bite," a melodious, gentle voice called behind him. A svelte, almost ethereal looking blond stood just behind his shoulder, wearing a Mona Lisa smile with all her amusement contained to her bright eyes. Everything about her was light and airy, and his thoughts were fluttering between Galadriel, Aurora, and The Last Unicorn. They quickly shifted to the image of Dean pissing himself laughing at the fact that Sam remembered The Last Unicorn so vividly. Still, he was sure even Dean would appreciate this girl's delicate beauty. He'd been staring a while himself, and felt suddenly mortified at how blatantly he'd been lost, but the girl didn't seem at all irritated by it.
"Uh…" Not the most intelligent of replies, but he'd forgotten what he'd been doing, mind still somewhere between Rivendell and Epcot. She laughed, as lovely a sound as he'd expected, and reached out a long, slight hand to nudge his back.
"Go on, get in there. The prof waits for no-one. Don't want to miss out now, do you?" The smile morphed into a smirk as she slid past, gracefully gliding down the stairs towards another avidly waving girl, slipping into the seat beside and settling into conversation. Sam wandered down the steps with less assurance, eyeing the unknown masses, looking for an open space to sit. All manners of people were packed into the room, some clearly there with an interest, others not as much, a fair few…none at all. In the middle right of the room, right on the end of the row by the other set of stairs, was a single open seat next to an Asian girl with subtly tinted hair and an unusually shy demeanor. Before her was an open drawing pad covered with various depictions of sharks and an half-eaten packet of Doritos, possibly a good old college breakfast substitute, and she barely looked up from either as Sam sat down. Sam being Sam, he was about to do the polite thing and introduce himself, throw out the usual greetings and pleasantries and try to make a new friend, but he was distracted by the sight of an unfortunately familiar face 2 rows down and 3 seats across. That profile was unmistakable, even with those ridiculous aviators propped upon his nose, obscuring his eyes.
Well, that's just great. Can't escape the dick.
Apparently his mental groan was actually audible as his neighbor looked up and tutted sympathetically.
"Not one for all the soil stuff either? I think all the technical mumbo jumbo's gonna take all the fun out of the camping trip. We should just get out there with cameras and sticks and poke stuff. Much better." Slowly turning to the girl, Sam's mouth formed a perfect downward curve, reminiscent of a sturgeon fish, as he processed her misinterpretation and tried hard not to laugh out loud. He thought about correcting her, mind cycling through the possible results, and opened his mouth to speak, before he could get a word out, he was interrupted and his jaw closed with an audible pop, only extending the fish-like illusion.
Clad as casually as his job could allow, pale dress shirt opened to three buttons down and more expensive denim jeans held up by a silver snarling hound belt buckle, the lecturer sauntered in looking very much like he didn't give a rat's ass about the fact that he was late, or had a room full of students to teach. In fact, he didn't look like the sort to really give a rat's ass about anything. Even from the midpoint of the room Sam could see him smirking. It wasn't a friendly face, humorous and inviting; in fact, it rather much resembled the dog at his waist.. It took only a minute for Sam to decide that this man, this new teacher of his, was not going to be one of his favorites at all.
"Alright, listen up," the man boomed, microphone squeaking briefly under the assault. "My name is Mr. Haris and I'm going to be trying to teach you Environmental Science, trying being the operative word here. This course is three weeks as I'm sure most of you know because, well, look how many of you showed up trying to get 'easy marks'. Well, first thing you have to know: This is by no means an easy class. You fail? You fail, and I don't give out pity marks. Do the work, do what I say, get it right, you'll do okay. Now," he cleared his throat and shuffled some papers around purely for effect, "Week one you'll be learning the ropes, finding out just what this course is about, how everyone's affecting the environment and what industries are doing to fix what's been screwed up. You'll also find out what the camping expedition entails and what you'll need to actually learn from that to get you through week three. Make sense? Yes? No? Either way, this is all covered yet again in the course outline sheets I have provided up front. For God's sake, don't forget to pick one up on your way out. Right up here, up front, on my desk. Easy to see. No excuses."
The brusqueness of Mr. Haris was setting Sam on edge and, apparently, his neighbor too; she'd shrunk further back into her seat and the pen was twitching in her hands, the papers before her completely ignored. "Today you get the briefing and your buddies for the trip. I know you're new to class but I've done some careful research into you guys so you can be paired with your best possible match. Best in my eyes may not exactly be best in yours. I'm sorry if you're bestest friends forever with someone who's not your intellectual equal. Grin and bear it, it's only a week and you'll be in the same general area. You'll live…"
Though he tried to pay attention Sam found he couldn't focus on what just seemed to be needlessly aggressive and sarcastic bile. He closed himself off entirely from everything else being said and turned his attention to Gabriel instead, glaring daggers at his back for everything he'd done and, admittedly, channeling every ounce of anger Mr. Haris was drawing out of him in that moment. Gabriel was slouched back in his chair, probably not giving a damn at all, one of the many in the class just looking to score some easy marks, with his pen tucked behind his ear where it would likely stay for the rest of the year. Sure, it was all conjecture, but Sam had a feeling he had this jerk figured pretty well. The theories and ideas alone that his head was helpfully supplying were pissing him off even more than what he'd actually witnessed in action. Gabriel Descieux to rhyme with douchebag.
Even being in the same class, going on the same field trip with him was too close for comfort. Sam didn't much like fighting but he was well trained, by his brother and their father, and he didn't know if he could stem the urge to smack the jerk in the face before the three weeks of Enviro-Sci were up. A small, satisfied smile may have crept up on his face at the mental image of knocking Gabriel down a few pegs, but he wasn't fully aware of it. Just then, a timid nudge from his side and the acrid voice of Mr. Haris cut through his thoughts and landed him back in reality, leading him to something that brought about an instant feeling of dread. He'd had little reason to feel trepidation about the partner assignments, not knowing the majority of the students in the class; but now the worry was there as a hefty weight in his stomach and he realized, with his luck, that it was for good reason.
"Pairings have been emailed out and should be waiting in your inbox. If you're so inclined, get to know your partners before you actually go on the trip so that you can get friendly or whatever. If not, don't whine about not being friends. I'll put that down as being your fault alone and, well, I don't really care much." A simple poke from the Asian girl brought Sam out of his own mind in time to catch the last of Mr. Haris' words, and while there was no good reason for it, they sounded to Sam the precursor to something much more sinister. Reluctantly mimicking many of the other students, he pulled his laptop closer to him on the small foldout desk and brought up his webmail. When he clicked open Mr. Haris' email, any level of mirth he'd felt earlier was instantly obliterated with just a handful of words— Verdana, 12pt, and so typical of everything in Sam's life he could've screamed aloud in class.
Gabriel Descieux.
Sam swore under his breath, sparing a quick apologetic glance to his friend at the rightbefore snapping back to the email and hoping to God that his vision was blurred or he was hallucinating. The name was still there, bold and dark like a taunt and definitely not changing, surrounded by a jumble of entirely meaningless words that got lost in the bubbling sensation of anger and despair and fear that things would be even worse now and, in all likelihood, would mark the end of Sam's term at Kansas State. At least, he thought somewhere in the middle of it all, he'd go out with a bang – right to Gabriel's face with the hope of leaving a few bruises and, if he was lucky, possibly even a break or two in the process.
Everything else that was said in class got lost, travelling in through Sam's ear, out through the other, and firing straight into Gabriel's back as imagined lances. The only break in what should've been a vital but calm day of learning was at lunch and the first moment that Gabriel became aware of Sam's presence in the class. He'd risen from his seat and turned to grab his jacket, and it was then that he caught a glimpse, straightened up, and glared with an exasperated sort of fury that burned deeper than his lackadaisical posture and pretense let on. The jacket was almost torn from the seat and tucked hurriedly, angrily under his arm opposite the one that trapped his worn messenger bag, chest heaving and eyes firmly fixed on Sam until he pounded For as much as Sam disliked Gabe, and that was putting it mildly, at least he could rest assured that the feeling was very definitely mutual. Seeing his chance, he waited until the flock of students rushing out for break had slowed and thinned somewhat before darting further down the stairs and towards , surrounded by at least 10 desperate looking faces. Many were dismissed within moments, others managed to get a bit more of a look in, and then it was Sam's turn.
He stepped forward as though the wait was far more organized, queue-like and orderly, but something about his face must've given his intent away before he'd opened his mouth as Mr. Haris' face crumpled into an irritated, disbelieving scowl.
"Is there any way I can switch partners with-"
"No. I told you at the start and, surprisingly enough, that still stands." Mr. Haris' arms folded and he shifted his stance, legs set further and more firmly apart. Paired with the look on his face and what was being held back in his eyes, Sam felt intimidated for the first time in a long while. "I'm afraid you're stuck with Mr. Descieux."
"Seriously?" Sam grumbled, already knowing for certain that this man was in no way kidding around. It was final. He was stuck in a tent with Gabriel for 6 whole nights. He wondered if this man knew anything about student relations, maybe had some inkling into how much he and Gabe already hated each other. It was unlikely, but Sam figured if anyone knew it would be him. Given what he'd already learned about the professor, it was likely he not only knew, but probably had plans to turn that little fact into some vindictive little game just to amuse himself, to pass the time.
"Seriously. I'm not the kind to go back on my decisions at the drop of a hat and this is no exception. I actually spent a lot of time figuring this whole thing out and for good reason, so any petty little squabbles you're having-" Sam could've sworn he'd seen the teacher's lips twitch as he said that. "-or any friends you have in this class that you're 'totally bummed' about not getting to shack up with for the week are just going to have to get pushed aside in the name of actual work. You and Gabriel are best suited academically and, should you actually just buckle down and do it, will produce the best work possible together. That's that." Despite the reasonable, even professional, words, there was no mistaking the sneer that spread this time, undermining the man's remarks. Sam felt a tingling in his hands, the blood pressure rising, and had to fight the urge to curl his fists 'til his knuckles were white and scream at the man. He sighed, breathing it all away slowly, and tried not to glare.
"But…"
"Goodbye, Mr. Winchester," said Mr. Haris in a sing-song voice, and Sam no longer gave a damn if he was glaring at the dismissal, because now he really was pissed. He spun and raced back up the steps, flinging himself back in his seat and scaring the life out of his neighbor with the rage he was emitting. Usually he'd feel a pang of guilt seeing how much discomfort he'd caused, seeing the poor girl caught in the aftermath and inching as far away from him as she could get, but the haze of his anger was blinding him to the point that all he could think was dark thoughts of grisly ends and, maybe, just maybe, if he should drop out of a class after only two days of university. He sat and stewed in his anger, twitching with the desire, the need, to do something other than sit in his complete and utter helplessness, until finally he threw himself up and out of his chair and out of the hall. That was it. He didn't care any longer.
For the first time in his life, Sam Winchester was quitting a class.
Under the dim light of a single simple energy efficient lamp, Gabriel Descieux seethed. Not only had his attempt to switch camp partners failed miserably –only made worse by his very loud and physically wild reaction to the news- but he'd also been beaten to the task by the one person he could stand least. He sat, frown creasing his brow, as he tried desperately to push all thoughts related from his mind to focus on the book cradled in his hands, but no avail.
Trust that gangly dumbass to put a damper on what should be my favorite class…
The scowl deepened and, utterly defeated, he flicked off the light in a fast, furious swipe and brooded alone in the darkness instead.