Chapter 13

Dean took his lunch tray outside so he could sit by himself today. The last thing he wanted was to sit by anyone who expected him to speak. His English teacher actually liked his stupid paper, Dean couldn't believe it. His face had burned hot when she said something about it in front of the class and the ground had regrettably not swallowed him whole. He did make an 'A' so maybe Mom would be happy.

Now Dean found a nice shady spot by himself where he had a good view of the elementary. He didn't really want to eat, but if Mom found out he skipped lunch he'd probably be in trouble. Then again, if he was in trouble, he might not be allowed to go to John's house tomorrow. Dean set his tray aside, wondering what his brothers were doing right now.

"There you are!" John said cheerfully, standing over him. He sunk down to sit next to Dean. "Oh, it's one of those days, huh?" John shrugged, picking up his burger. "That's okay," he said through a mouthful of food, "I can do all the talking."

Dean hung his head. Crap. Why couldn't John just leave him alone? Why did John, who was normal and could make friends with anybody, want to be around a loser like him anyway?

"Know what I heard?" John asked, leaning against the wall next to Dean. "Jimmy Gunderson is planning on walking his little brother home from school today." He pointed to the elementary. "That brother. Something about taking care of a big mouth."

Dean lifted his head to see if John was serious. If he was, both Sam and Mikey could be in danger.

"Yeah, I thought that might get your attention. Want some company, or at least an eyewitness?" John grinned at him. "I'm pretty sure my mom won't have a problem picking me up from your house again."

Dean chewed his lower lip, considering it. These were his brothers they were talking about and both kids had some big mouths on them. There was no telling which one Jimmy was after, but Mikey had a Gunderson in the same grade.

"You take Sam," he finally said, meeting John's gaze.

John smiled at him. "No problem. Third grade, right?" Dean nodded. "I'll find him," John promised.

Dean knew if it was true, Jimmy would have to go to the first grade wing. He wanted to be sure he was the one to see Jimmy first, not either of his brothers or John.

"Where do you want us to meet you? Front office? Or in the playground?" John asked.

Dean sighed. The front office would be safer, but if Jimmy really wanted a fight Dean intended to finish it. "Playground," he told his friend.

John nodded slowly. "Better eat," he said after a pause. "Need to keep your strength up."

Dean picked up his cooling burger. He barely tasted it as he ate, staring across the field at the one story building. Well, at least he had something to look forward to after school today. And if he did get into a fight, there was no way Mom would let them go to John's house, so technically it was a win-win situation. Assuming he won, that is. Jimmy was a lot bigger now than he was two years ago. A lot bigger. They might be having his funeral tomorrow. He shoved the rest of his burger in his mouth. He needed all the strength he could get.

"Come on," John said with a nudge to his arm. "Bell."

Dean followed John to dump his tray off before going to class. It was going to be a long afternoon.

John was following him so close he kept jostling Dean's arm as they walked over to the elementary. It was all Dean could do not to run flat out for Mikey's classroom. Dean went through the side doors, his usual route. He waved John off when they reached the third grade so he could go directly for Mikey.

It was a good thing, too, Dean decided as he rounded the corner for the first grade. Jimmy must have run the whole way here to be standing outside Mikey's classroom with that stupid grin on his face as he lounged against the wall. Dean glared hard at the enemy as he walked slowly to the doorway of Mikey's room.

"Dean!" Mikey shouted. The chubby kid bolted from the room to slam full force into Dean's side. He stumbled as he absorbed the impact of Mikey's assault.

Jimmy snorted at them. "Looks like the real Peavy takes after his loser brother. Poor kid."

Another boy, about Mikey's size but with a really fat face and neck, stepped out from behind Jimmy. "Losers!" he said with a nasty laugh.

Well, at least he wasn't bigger than Mikey. Dean shoved Mikey away from the Gundersons to walk down the hall.

"Dean?" Mikey asked, turning around to walk backwards and bump into other kids. "What's going on?"

Dean shrugged before reaching out to spin his baby brother around. One hand firmly planted on Mikey's back, Dean steered him out one of the back doors to the playground. John and Sam were waiting for them by the swings and Sam did not look happy. Yeah, he was probably overdue for a chewing out anyway.

Sam marched up to him with John close on his heels. "Dean," Sam demanded, "what the hell is..." Sam's face darkened and he glared just past Dean's right shoulder. John had an odd look on his face, one Dean couldn't identify, so it couldn't be good.

Dean shoved Mikey to the left and toward Sam, figuring the danger had to be coming from his right. Then he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder, hard enough to send him face first into the dirt. Oh, thank God, Jimmy started it first. Now he wouldn't be in trouble.

Grinning over the fact things were finally going his way, Dean rolled over. Jimmy's foot was in the air, ready to pound down into Dean's abdomen. Dean caught it with his hands and thrust up, hard. It caught Jimmy off guard, sending him crashing down on his ass. Dean barely heard the kids around them cheering as he stood up.

Jimmy scrambled to his feet, his face red. He took the time to dust himself off, like it was going to be his last time in the dirt. As if. Dean wasn't about to waste any energy or distract himself by doing the same. Jimmy gave him a nasty glare as he made fists with both hands.

Dean shook out his shoulders and rolled his head, loosening up. He heard both Sam's and Mikey's voices shouting something, but they did not sound upset so Dean spared no attention for them. Focusing solely on Jimmy, Dean moved slowly to keep Jimmy in front of him. Jimmy jabbed out with a few experimental punches. Once Dean figured out what Jimmy was doing, he didn't dodge the ones on his left as quickly as the ones on the right. This way Jimmy would think he was slower and weaker on the left side. He took a couple of blows to the face on his left, one hard enough to make him stumble.

Jimmy grinned. "Got your number now, Peavy," he said with a sneer. "You don't even deserve to be called a lousy Peavy, you know."

Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Dean couldn't wait to lay this guy out. He didn't need to hear what he already knew.

As expected, Jimmy came in hard on his right first. Dean figured he would switch to the left the instant he realized he couldn't get past Dean's defenses. Too bad for Jimmy, because he was a little stronger on the left. Jimmy's body shifted subtly to come in on Dean's left, which Dean had been intentionally leaving open. Once Jimmy took the bait, Dean trapped his opponent's arm under his and went to work on Jimmy's body. God it felt good to pound the living daylights out of someone who deserved it.

Now Jimmy was under him, on the ground. Dean continued to whale on the bigger boy, even after his hands were covered with blood from Jimmy's busted nose. He heard cries and a voice begging him to stop, but Dean couldn't stop. Not now. All his pain and fear, it welled up and poured out through his fists, into Jimmy. This bastard wanted to hurt his brother! Dean wanted to hurt Jimmy so bad he'd never even think about looking at Sam or Mikey again.

Now someone was pulling him away and adults moved between him and Jimmy. Dean broke free with the intent of going after Jimmy again, but both Sam and Mikey rushed to stand in his way. Sam had both hands up, waving him back.

"It's all right, Dean," Sam said calmly as he walked closer. "Breathe, Dean."

A hand reached for Sam's arm, drawing Dean's gaze. It was an adult, one of the elementary teachers. Dean narrowed his eyes on her until her hand dropped away.

"Dean would never hurt me," Sam told her, waving her away. Then Sam faced him again. "Dean? Can you hear me?"

Dean nodded slowly, still glaring at the teacher.

"Dean, I want you to look at me," Sam said. Dean didn't want to, the teacher could be a threat. "Now, Dean. Right here."

He never could disobey that tone. Dean's eyes dropped back to his little brother.

"That's better," Sam told him with a smile. "Come here."

Knowing what was coming, Dean took the three steps to stand in front of Sam and braced himself. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and held tight. When Mikey attached himself to Dean's leg as well, Dean felt himself start to relax. He ruffled both boys' hair. While his brothers hugged him the teachers helped Jimmy into the elementary school, probably to see the nurse. Then Dean noticed John.

John stood off to the side with his mouth hanging open. Oh, crap. Dean turned away to take his little brothers home. A teacher tried to stop them from leaving, but Dean ignored her. She knew who they were, she could call Mom or Pop to complain. It wasn't like he would listen to any of these teachers anyway. The only things that mattered were Sam and Mikey being safe, and how Mom and Pop would react. If they reacted at all. Sometimes Mom seemed to pretend the fights never happened, which was kind of weird, but as long as he wasn't in trouble Dean wasn't complaining.

Halfway home Dean noticed they were being followed. Worried it might be the other Gunderson who was a potential threat, Billy, Dean glanced back. John was following a few feet behind. Now what was he doing?

Dean tapped Sam on the shoulder to get his attention. When Sam looked up, Dean jerked his head back at John.

Sam sighed loudly before asking, "Why are you following us, John?"

"I have to use the phone so my mom can pick me up," John replied. "Besides, Dean said I could come."

Sam looked back up at him. "You did?" he demanded.

Had he? Dean searched his memory. Yeah, okay, maybe he had. Dean shrugged in response.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, then leaned his head back against Dean's side as they walked. When they reached the house, Dean felt calm and as ready to face Mom as he ever was. Once they were inside, Sam tried to force Dean upstairs, as if they could hide the fight from Mom. Yeah, right.

Dean looked down at the floor so he wouldn't have to see the expression on Mom's face when he walked into the den.

"Dean!" Mom shouted. He cringed at how loud she was. She rushed over to him and used a shaking hand to tilt his face up.

"Don't cry," he whispered when a strange look crossed her face.

Mom cleared her throat, shaking her head. "Why would I do that?" she demanded sharply. "I need to clean up your face. Kitchen."

Dean followed her. At the door to the kitchen she stopped. "The rest of you need to wash upstairs before you come in my clean kitchen."

He waited until she walked through the doorway into the kitchen to follow her. Mom dragged a chair from the dining table over in front of the kitchen sink. Dean sat in it and waited. Mom turned on the water and let it run while she found a hand towel. She soaked it in the water before wiping down his face. When she wiped it near his eye, pain shot through his face and Dean pulled away. By accident. He hadn't meant to.

"All right," Mom whispered. "It's okay. You have a cut there. I need to clean it. The alcohol will burn, but it'll be faster. Is that all right?"

Dean swallowed hard before nodding. Mom pulled the alcohol out of the kitchen cabinet where she kept it, next to all the medicines. She poured some on a dry part of her towel before dabbing it on his face. It stung, worse than a bee sting, but Dean was ready for it this time. He managed to stay still while Mom cleaned the cuts on his face.

"Hands," she demanded. Dean held out his hands for inspection.

"We're clean!" Sammy announced as the kids came into the kitchen. Instantly the noise level rose from almost silent to a wonderful, lively sound.

Mom washed Dean's hands really well in the sink before turning off the water. She patted his hands dry with another hand towel, then poured alcohol over some of his knuckles. When she was done, Mom put the alcohol up and took out the cream. Dean hoped John wasn't in a hurry to call his mom, because Mom was taking for-freaking-ever. She applied cream to all of his cuts. After Mom was done with that, she took out the band-aides. He waited patiently while Mom stuck band-aides all over him.

"There," she finally said, stepping back, "finished."

Sam walked up and his head tilted to one side. "He looks weird."

John stood beside Sam. "Yeah. Kind of."

"Hey!" Sam snapped, turning to face John. "Don't talk about my brother like that!"

"Sam!" Mom admonished before Dean could open his mouth. "You said it first."

"I can. He's my brother," Sam insisted with a glare at Mom. Dean kicked his brother in the shin when Mom wasn't looking. Sam glared at him and Dean glared back, jerking his head at Mom.

Sam sighed loudly. "Sorry, Mom."

Dean nodded at John next.

Sam scowled. "Sorry," he mumbled in John's general direction.

Well, it wasn't great, but Dean would take it. It wasn't like Sam would improve on it anyway. Dean pointed out the phone to his friend, assuming they were still friends. He wondered what John thought of him now.

John nodded silently before heading for the phone. Mom gave him an odd look as he dialed the phone, but then she turned around to open the fridge. Maybe she was thinking about supper.

"Hi, Mom," John said. "I went home with Dean again today." He sighed. "I told you, I'm not allowed to use the phone until I wash up. … Yeah, okay." John turned to Mom. "Missus Peavy? My mom wants to talk to you."

Mom cleared her throat as she closed the fridge door. "Hello?" she said, taking the receiver from John. "Yes, that's right. … No, John is always welcome and I'm always home in the afternoons. It's no problem. … That will be fine. Thank you." Mom hung up the phone.

"John, your mother will come for you in about an hour. In the meantime, do you boys have homework?" Mom asked.

"Yes, ma'am," John replied politely. "No English, but we have a little math."

"After you finish your homework, you and Dean may go outside and play," Mom said. "If Sam and Mikey are bothering you while you're doing your work, send them downstairs and I'll find something for them to do. Now go on." She waved them out of the kitchen.

John waited until they were halfway up the stairs before bumping against Dean's arm. "So? Are you grounded?"

"No way!" Sammy snapped, turning around at the top of the stairs. "What for? Dean didn't start it!"

John gave Sammy a strange look, like he couldn't quite believe how weird they were. "So what? If I get into a fight it doesn't matter who started it, I'm still grounded."

Sammy snorted. "Then your parents are idiots."

Dean silently agreed.

"I'll play with Mikey until your homework is done, okay Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged and nodded. Sam gave him another huge hug. "You were awesome!" he whispered against Dean's chest.

Dean grinned at his little brother, running a hand over Sam's head.

"Me too, Dean!" Mikey insisted, attaching himself to Dean's side again. Dean chuckled and shook his head as he ran his other hand over Mikey's head.

"Go play," he told both of them, extracting himself from their joint embrace. It was kind of embarrassing with John watching.

"Dean?" John whispered when they were in the bedroom with their math books out. "You know what I said the other day about your mom?"

Dean stiffened at the recollection and he nodded once.

"I'm really, really sorry," John said and he sounded like he meant it more now than he had before.

Dean let out the breath he had been holding. "Whatever," he replied, feeling a measure of relief it wasn't something bad. Maybe they were still friends after all.

Wow, Dean never got in trouble for fighting if he didn't start it. That was amazing. John had new respect for Dean's mom now. When he first met her he thought she was too pushy and overbearing and John could see why Dean wouldn't want to talk much around adults like his parents. He still didn't blame Dean for it. It was nice to know Dean spoke to John more than he spoke to his own parents, but not as much as he talked with his little brothers. Actually, John was relieved Dean would hold a conversation with someone.

Dean was much better at math than John, another reason John wanted to go home with Dean today. He needed help on their homework. This new thing they were doing, with A's and B' and X's, John just didn't get it. It was too hard. Dean breezed through his homework then spent about fifteen minutes coaching John through it. He still didn't like it, but he understood it a little better now.

"Dean?" John asked as they put their books away. Something had been nagging at him since the fight. "What did Jimmy mean when he said you didn't deserve to be a Peavy?"

Dean's body stiffened and froze in place. John watched Dean swallow hard before stiffly shrugging his shoulders. He would have to remember to ask Mom, she could usually find out all the good gossip.

"So what do you want to do outside?" John asked, trying to change to a more comfortable topic.

Dean grabbed his football off the shelf and held it up in the air. "Mikey loves it."

John shrugged. "Okay, whatever." He followed Dean down the stairs. "You don't think he just likes playing with you?" He had no idea what little brothers were like.

Dean snorted loud. "Nah!"

"Football!" Dean called out from the front door. Both younger boys came storming through the house and out the front door with a burst of noise and energy.

John shook his head as he followed. "Do they actually settle down enough to sleep?" he asked.

Dean chuckled at him. "Yeah." His eyes sparkled when he turned to watch his brothers rolling in the grass. Then the smile dropped away as Dean slapped himself in the forehead. "Play shirts," he groaned.

John snagged the football away and ran toward the far end of the yard. "Too late now! Who's open?"

Sam scrambled to his feet to run the other way. "Over here!" he shouted. Looked like it was him and Sam against Dean and Mikey. Game on!

John stared at his mother in disbelief as she drove them home. "Are you serious? Dean's adopted?"

Mom nodded. "Why do you sound like that, John? It happens all the time. But it was the way it happened." She sighed and shook her head. "Poor kid."

"Why?" John demanded. "Why'd you say poor kid?"

Mom parked in the driveway. She turned the motor off before turning in the seat to face to him. "I didn't want to tell you, because I was afraid it might affect your friendship with Dean. He's so quiet, I know he can't have many friends."

"He doesn't," John confirmed. "Tell me what? What happened to Dean?" His palms were sweaty and his heart raced in his chest. Dean was such a nice guy, what could have happened to him?

Mom sighed again. "Are you sure you want to know?"

John nodded, not trusting his voice.

"When Dean was little, like three or four, his mother died in a house fire. Afterwards, his father was so, I don't know, distraught I guess, he abandoned the kids to the Peavys." Mom shook her head slowly. "It caused a huge uproar at the time. Everybody was talking about it, wondering if he killed his wife, all kinds of horrible things. And they wonder why Dean doesn't like to talk." She made a sour face. "I'm impressed the poor kid is able to go to school and make friends." Now Mom smiled at him and rubbed a soft hand along his arm. "But some kids make better friends than others, I think."

John smiled at his mom. "Thanks, Mom." He shook his head in amazement. "I never heard any of that before."

"I'm surprised," she said, opening her car door. "Some people, like that idiot William Gunderson, can't shut up about it."

John chuckled to himself as he headed into his house. "Well, that explains a lot."

"What does?" Mom asked, setting her purse down.

"About the Gundersons," John explained. "Jimmy attacked Dean at the elementary school today."

Mom gasped, one hand covering her mouth. "Is that why he looked like that?"

John nodded. "Yep. But I don't think Jimmy will do it again any time soon."

Mom's hand lowered slowly as a suspicious expression crossed her face. "And why is that?"

John found himself grinning as he said, "Because Dean kicked his ass. Bad."

"Which means it might be a good thing you hang out with Dean," Mom said slowly. "I guess now I won't have to worry about those Gunderson boys picking on you." She shook a finger at him. "But if I catch you out picking fights..." she threatened.

John held up both hands. "No way, Mom. Honest." But there was no way he'd dare to go between Dean and someone he was after. No freaking way.