Dean leaned up against his locker pulling his calculus textbook free. The book had much the resemblance of a brick, rusty red, rectangular and heavy but it was the only one that he enjoyed reading. Scratch that it was the only one of his textbooks that he wouldn't go out back and use for target practice given half a chance. He smirked as the thought of using his 22 on the copy of Shakespeare's greatest hits in his locker. Now that would be a good time. A gentle touch trailed along his forearm. He resisted the urge to flinch away when he saw the flick of long red hair. Red head score!
"So Dean I was wondering if you…" Dean shifted to look at the girl one brow lifted half smirk showing off perfect teeth and long dark lashes fluttering just enough, wide green eyes all but innocent. Well-muscled forearm resting smoothly against the locker slightly above her shoulder. The girl goggled mouth a gape, words lost in a rush of blood to her face. Was Dean aware of the effect he had on 99% of the female population? Absolutely, and he did feel bad about using to get what he wanted sometimes but despite his reputation as the teenage dream bad boy. He had never done the deed as some might call it. In fact, with the exception of some exotic mouth to mouth the stories were just that; stories. There were good reasons for this; Dean was up for a little fun if a girl was but he knew his family never stayed long in one place and he had seen his Dad's relationship and didn't want to hurt the girls especially if they were his friends. Secondly, the massive scars that hid under his clothes were hard to explain.
"You were saying? Ally…" prompted Dean gently.
"Umm," stuttered the girl intelligently. The bell saved the star struck girl. Dean gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder and a wink that made her heart skip a beat as he pushed passed her from his position on the lockers.
That was a mistake. The sudden change in elevation made the room spin wildly. It was like the teacup ride he had snuck Sam onto when they were little except faster and less fun. Ally was standing in front of him again mouth moving forming what he would guess was his name but once again no sound escaped. But this time when he replied no sound escaped his mouth either. Frowning he blinked rapidly reaching out to grasp Ally shoulder to keep her from doing any more acrobatics. But his hand slipped lower on accident to a place where he was sure to get a slap but no slap was forthcoming. Instead Ally turned horizontal as Dean listed sideways. His last thought before he completely blacked out was of embarrassment because normally in this situation it was the ladies who fainted.
Dean woke to soft hands roaming his body in places they shouldn't. Get your mind out of the gutter people; he meant his back. The wings had already been snipped that morning but the scars remained. Green eyes snapped opened as he scrambled backwards on the thing he was laying on and snatched the wrist of the wondering hand, breathing hard.
"Mr. Winchester, Dean, how are you feeling?" Mrs. Hudson the stern but kindly school nurse raised a painted brown eyebrow; until Dean released his grip on the skeletal wrist. He wasn't going to be the kind of monster that hurt women. Especially old ladies.
"Fine," answered Dean swinging his legs over the side of the papered examine table. The paper crinkled and bunched as he moved.
"Dean," warned the older woman resting a gentle but restraining hand on his forearm.
"Fine, Madam," corrected Dean but apparently that wasn't what the nurse had been expecting as an answer because he brow.
"Dean, you passed out and were unresponsive for ten minutes. That is not normal for someone your age. I tried calling your father but he didn't seem to want to talk." Dean shallowed hard. If he had to guess he would assume that the nurse was giving him the PG version of her phone call. The lines in the nurse face softened as she spoke. "Has this happened before?"
"No, madam." Dean shook his head firmly. Why had the lady bothered his dad? Now there would be hell to pay at home.
Mrs. Hudson signed. She had seen cases like this boy before but never this bad. The boy looked half starved when she had checked his back she had felt what she hoped were ribs and not signs of abuse but she would not bet her license on it. Other worrying signs were abundant including the brief uncaring and rude confrontation she had had with the father, the way the boy kept glancing at the door and how he was unnatural polite for a rebellious teenager. As a school nurse she had little power to help the child but she resolved to do what she could. After all good things do happen; when people choose to do what is right not what is easy. One step at a time should could solve today's problem at least. "When was the last time you ate?" It was no secret that teenager need a lot of calories especial tall teenage boys.
"This morning. Madam." She tutted adding liar to the long list of expected traits. The boy was trying to suppress the tremors that raked his body.
"Do you want to try that question again or do you want me to call your brother in here to answer the question?" She didn't! Green eyes narrowed but when he spoke it was the truth-ish.
"Two days ago madam," Dean dropped his gaze. And it had only been a poptart but he had said enough already. But Sammy needed the food to fuel his freakishly tall growth spurt and there wasn't much money or food to go around in the first place. The nurse pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration thinking.
"Can I go now? I feel fine really. Madam," Dean appeased. The woman's smile had fainted replaced with a sad tired look.
"Wait one moment," she replied walking across to her desk to grab something. Dean tensed preying she wasn't going to call the cops or child protective services on him. But she snatched up and forced something round and red into his hands. An apple.
"Eat," she ordered firmly. " Then you can go."
