Story Name: Pivot Point
Pen Name: ElenaRoan
Disclaimer: Don't own any of them, written purely for enjoyment.
Warnings:
Summary: What if Anna decided to derail the apocalypse by intervening to help rather than trying to make the brothers never having existed.
Timeline: Season 4
Note: I'm Australian and I can't bring myself to use USA spelling, sorry.
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Chapter 47: Ghost Resolution
As they drove up to the school Dean couldn't help but remember arriving all those years ago that first time. He'd been in his last year of school, he could have easily dropped out, less than half a year before his 19th birthday, and joined his father in Hunting full time but that would have left Sam alone. Sam who'd only been 15, and a very small 15 at that, when they'd washed up here. Already wishing for something different, something more, than the life their father, and Dean himself, embraced. Scholarly and small all too many bullies assumed his little brother was an easy target, and for some reason Sam had been incredibly reluctant to use the skills their dad had relentlessly drummed into them. Turning up here had been just like the start of any of the dozens of schools they'd been to over the years, Sam sulky and withdrawn and Dean the epitome of the cool teenager without a care in the world. In some ways it was correct when it came to school work and other mundane things, in others it couldn't be more wrong. Even then his family had mattered more than anything else in the world.
How Sam had managed to wrangle inserting them in as staff he'd never be able to figure out, how he'd managed to fudge the credentials to get Dean in as a substitute teacher, even a gym teacher, was particularly baffling. Sam hadn't managed to get as good an entry, going in as a janitor, though he had to have put just as solid a blind with that as with Dean's. How on earth there wasn't someone being missed or an unfilled vacancy somewhere he didn't know, all he did know for sure was that Sam hadn't done something to ensure the vacancies.
Of course, he knew nothing about actually teaching, even gym class and in the back of his mind he thought Sam would have been better in this role and he in the janitor. Then he did what he did best when improvising, he quoted a movie. Dodgeball to be specific. The results were…less than cinematic.
Sam meanwhile used the invisibility of his role as janitor to go over the entire building systematically, twice, before slipping quietly into the gym and the insane scene that was Dean's gym class. Dean instructed the class to start playing and came over.
"Having fun?" Sam asked as Dean joined him.
"The whistle makes me their god." Dean stated almost happily.
"Right." Sam returned, almost sarcastically, "nice shorts."
Dean glanced down uncomfortably, he usually avoided shorts if he could. Something his brother wasn't afraid of poking at, which Dean suspected was part of the reason Sam had slotted him in as the gym teacher.
"Find anything?" Dean asked.
"Been over the entire school twice, no sulphur." Sam reported, "no residual demon feel either."
"No sulphur, no sense, no demon." Dean stated, almost relieved. That meant they could shelve this and get the hell out of this town, "no demon, no case."
"I don't know…maybe I was wrong…" Sam returned, his voice trailing off as if he had something to add but wasn't.
"What?" Dean prompted with a sinking feeling, "Spidey sense?"
"Yeah…but it's so nebulous that I can't really put my finger on it…feels familiar though…"
"Super." Dean sighed, "guess we'll have to look deeper. But after lunch, it's sloppy joe day."
They both winced at a crash and cry from the class. One of the kids headed out of the gym towards the closest bathroom with a bloody nose.
"That's going to be some fun paperwork." Sam commented to Dean once the kid was gone.
"Paperwork?" Dean asked with more than a little trepidation.
"Be thankful you're not a real teacher…" Sam trailed off and frowned.
"What?" Dean asked, there were some things he'd really learned about how his brother reacted to his abilities.
"Something's happening."
"Okay, let's go."
"You gotta stay with the class." Sam stated with a shake of his head before ducking out of the door, leaving Dean swearing under his breath behind him.
Even without his senses Sam wouldn't have had any problem locating the origin of what was happening, the screams of the various students being a decent guide to the location. He arrived to the flood of students fleeing the home economics classroom, the teacher rushing an obvious jock out whose left hand, or former hand rather, was a complete mess of blood. Now that he was so close to an event he knew what the familiar sense he'd encountered was. Inside the classroom the only student not fleeing was covered in blood spatter. Even as he watched the student collapsed and he sensed the force that had been controlling him fled.
Sam swore under his breath and went to the student's side, he had a feeling the kid's life had just been destroyed by that outside force and there was nothing he could do to fix that. The kid looked blearily up at him.
"What happened?" The student asked in confusion. Some black goo seeped out of his ear, confirming what Sam had sensed.
"I'm the wrong person to ask, kid." Sam told him with a sigh before moving aside as several teachers piled into the room to contain the kid. As they hauled him out they instructed Sam not to clean up the mess as the police would want to take a look at it.
The afternoon timetable for all students was abruptly changed, apparently two acts of violence on the school grounds warranted a 'non-violence assembly'. Not that it would do much unless they could take care of what was actually causing the violence. Dean managed to slip out of it after a while to join Sam, his brother had only managed to give him a couple of words in explanation as to what was going on before he'd had to corral his class into the assembly. Sam would have spent the time hunting for the anchor except he already knew it wasn't on the school grounds from his earlier search.
"How's the non-violence assembly going?" Sam asked when Dean wearily joined him.
"Apparently shoving a kid's arm into a Cuisinart is not a 'healthy display of anger'." Dean returned, "you said it's a ghost?"
Sam nodded, "yeah, could sense it when it acted. Plus, the kid had ectoplasm come out of his ear."
"Ectoplasm? Shit."
"Yeah, which only comes from a seriously pissed off spirit."
"Ghost possession is pretty rare."
"Yeah, but it happens. They get angry enough, they could take control of a person's body. I felt it flee after it was done and before I could do much more than register what was actually going on."
"So…we got a ghost in the building?"
"Don't think it'll be that easy. I went over every inch of this place, if it was anchored here I'd have found it. Aside from the vague residual sense, which I could barely place as being familiar let alone as ghostly until it acted, there's nothing here."
"Okay, so guess we look the old fashioned way. See whether there's been any violent deaths around here." Dean held up a hand as Sam opened his mouth, "I know, I know. You said it's not anchored here, but it's somewhere to start. Besides, I broke into the principal's office."
Dean pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, "oh…and…uh…FYI…three of the cheerleaders are legal. Guess which ones."
Sam rolled his eyes, one of these days his brother's libido was going to get them into trouble, "no."
Dean looked like a scolded kid for a moment before clearing his throat and looking at the piece of paper again, "so there was only one death on campus. It was a suicide back in'98. Some kid named Barry Cook."
Sam felt like he'd been punched in the gut and grabbed the page out of his brother's hands.
Dean looked at him worriedly, "what?"
"I knew him." Sam told him quietly, "how'd he die?"
"Uh…he slit his wrists in the first floor girls' bathroom."
"Same place…"
"That the chick got swirlied to death." Dean finished.
"But that was one of the first places I checked, nothing clinging there."
"Maybe it can hide from your senses…?" Even to Dean that reasoning sounded shaky.
"Then why could I sense it when it acted and when it fled? I also sensed the residual even if I couldn't place it straight away."
"Yeah…that kinda made no sense even as I said it…"
"I get why though. This isn't making any sense, the attacks are here so the ghost should be here…but it isn't."
"Okay, back to basics. So this ghost is possessing nerds?"
"And using them to go after bullies, yeah." Sam confirmed a little reluctantly, Barry had been a victim of bullying and a suicide was a definite recipe for vengeful ghost. Maybe he had some sort of mental blind spot because the boy had been his friend all those years ago, which wasn't a comforting thought.
"Well, does that sound like Barry's MO?" Dean asked, wishing he didn't have to. They'd never had to go after a ghost of someone they knew, and he suspected the boy had been his brother's friend, which would make it doubly hard. He wondered if he'd been the boy he'd seen his brother with a few times.
"Barry had a hard time." Sam told him slowly, when he knew him he'd been holding out for graduation, planning on going to Michigan State to study Veterinary Science. What had happened after he left that had driven him to take his life less than a year later? Sam had to concede that maybe he'd just lost the fight against the tide of despair rather than some event, though enduring bullying wouldn't have helped, and he wished he'd stayed a little longer, maybe he could have helped, "he was bullied, picked on just because he was small and studied. He planned to go to Michigan State and study to be a vet."
"Hate to say it, Sammy, but…"
"Perfect recipe for a vengeful ghost, yeah, I know. I'll…look up where he's buried."
They split back up, Dean back to looking after his class and Sam back to his invisible rounds as the janitor. After the day had finished Sam looked up the location his teenage friend was buried and they snuck into the cemetery once it was dark then salted and burned him. It was a very uneventful operation, which was unusual for vengeful ghosts, not even an appearance by the ghost.
It was raining as they drove back to the motel room, something that struck Sam as rather fitting. Dean had been shooting worried glances at him since he'd admitted to knowing the kid and if he knew his brother he wouldn't stay quiet on it much longer.
"You all right?" Dean asked, right on cue.
"Barry was my friend." Sam told him sadly, "and I just burned his bones."
"We." Dean corrected, he wasn't about to let his brother start blaming himself, "and he's at peace now, Sammy."
"Maybe if dad had let us stay just a little longer…" Sam voiced the thought that had been running around his mind since he'd found out about Barry, "maybe I could have helped him…you know?"
"You read the coroner's report too." Dean pointed out, "Barry was on every anxiety drug and antidepressant known to man. School was hell for that kid, his parents had split up. He just wanted out. It's tragic, but it's not your fault."
Sam wasn't sure he believed him but he appreciated the effort.
"To tell you the truth." Dean continued, "I'm glad we got out of that town. I hated that school."
That was news to Sam, his brother had always milked the bad boy image for all it was worth and was always accepted, always one of the cool kids.
"It wasn't all bad." He replied, once he'd dealt with the bully, much as he hadn't wanted to stand out, things had smoothed out considerably.
"How can you say that after what happened to you?" Dean asked incredulously, it had been one of the few times he hadn't been there when someone tried to pick on his little brother and Sam had paid the price. His brother even then had been more than capable of protecting himself but his desire to not be, in his words, a freak had led to him not fighting back more than once.
Sam lay awake for a long time after he went to bed, staring at the darkened ceiling with its odd water stains. If there was one thing he remembered about that school, more than Barry, more than the bully, Dirk, it was the teacher that had encouraged him to live his own life. And he'd seen that same teacher still there during his rounds that day. The blind would come down during the night, he'd simply hacked into the substitute system and altered the dates that the substitutes were needed for, as far as the actual officials knew there'd been no substitutes the day just gone and the school had thought they were the ones assigned.
He told his brother he wanted to go see that teacher when they packed up the next morning. Dean gave him an odd look but shrugged and took him there anyway.
As he reached the door he silently swore as he felt the ghost approach him from behind. Obvious it wasn't sorted, it wasn't Barry or he was tethered to something else. Quickly he reached into his pocket and hit the quick dial on his phone for Dean, he might need back up and it would be hard to do so in a bit.
"Excuse me, sir?" The possessed girl spoke up and he turned to regard her, "can you tell me how to find room 305?"
"I know what you are." Sam stated calmly.
"Of course you do, Sam." She returned harshly, and he made a quick mental note that obviously they knew him, before pulling out what looked like a maths compass in the brief glance he got at it and lunging forward to stab him. He dodged backwards and she snarled angrily, "you got tall, Winchester."
She went to kick him in the balls and he barely managed to block it.
"Sam!" Dean's voice was very welcome. The ghost apparently decided that both of them was more than they wanted to deal with and fled, Sam barely caught the girl as she collapsed.
"You okay?" Dean asked as he skidded to a stop beside Sam as he propped the girl up against the wall, then pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off the ectoplasm that was oozing out of her mouth and eye.
"Yeah, but without my senses that ghost riding her would have got the drop on me."
She looked blearily around then looked up at them with frightened eyes, "what happened?"
"A form of sleepwalking." Sam fudged hastily, "I suggest you go see the nurse."
He helped her gently to her feet and she gathered her things before scampering off in the direction of the office.
"You okay?" Dean asked as she disappeared.
"Lot better than I'd have been if I hadn't known it was the ghost instead of a little girl." Sam replied, giving his leg a rub where she'd connected instead of his balls before turning and heading towards the exit. His desire to speak to the teacher shelved for the time being.
"So the ghost ain't gone. Figures." Dean commented with a sigh following him, he wanted this over and done with.
"It knew my name, my real name." Sam stated once they were back in the impala, "we burned Barry's bones, surprisingly uneventfully I might add."
"Maybe it wasn't Barry." Dean suggested, anger simmering in him at the attack on his brother but nowhere near as blazing as it would have been if he'd got more than a bruise. A bruise was nothing when tangling with a ghost, Sam wasn't even limping. He found somewhere to park and pulled out the documents they hadn't got rid of yet, "maybe I missed something. We just gotta dig deeper."
"We, Dean, maybe we missed something." Sam corrected, though he had a feeling his brother had done that deliberately.
Adding in the third victim a pattern emerged that Dean hadn't seen before, "huh."
"What?"
Dean handed over the pages, "check it out. Martha Dump truck, Revenge of the Nerds, and Hello Kitty all rode the same bus."
"So maybe the bus is haunted, would explain why we're not finding anything at the school."
"Yeah, but not the attacks. Ghosts are tied to the places that they haunt, they can't just bail."
"Unless this one can." Sam suggested, Dean gave him a puzzled look, "there's lore about spirits possessing people and riding them for miles. Then when they leave the body, they're bungeed back to their usual haunt. Until then…the ghosts can go wherever they want."
"So a spook grabs a kid on the bus and walks right into Truman?"
"It's possible. Certainly explains why they're possessing people, why there's no ghost hot spots there, and why they leave so quickly when they let the kid go."
"Ghosts getting creative…well, that's super." Dean complained.
"I should have just snapped the tether when it confronted me." Sam sighed, he hadn't wanted to risk it without his brother close by and the ghost had fled too quickly once Dean had turned up.
"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Dean growled, "come on, the busses should be back to the depot by now, let's find that bus."
Finding the bus was easy enough but Sam took one look at it and sighed, "it's all residual, the anchor isn't here. Or not right now at least."
"Damnit. Carried by someone perhaps?"
"Possible." Sam agreed.
Dean broke in and rifled through the documents, unless this bus served another school at the same time it was most likely that it was the driver rather than another student. He found something useful at least.
"Got a new driving permit, issued two weeks ago." He called to Sam.
"Just before the first attack." Sam noted.
"Yeah." Dean agreed, "name of the bus driver is Dirk MacGregor Sr. 39 North Central Avenue."
Sam nearly did a double take, "MacGregor?"
"Yeah." Dean confirmed, shooting him a concerned look, "what?"
"I knew his son…" Sam told him, trying to figure it out. That made no sense.
"You knew everybody at this school?" Dean asked, a little startled. His little brother's reserved nature usually meant he didn't have any friends before they were uprooted again.
"No." Sam replied almost absently, "and it's not like he was a friend. You didn't like him either."
"I didn't like him? Since when did I know any of your classmates?"
"I believe your exact words were that you were going to rip his lungs out." Sam told him with a chuckle.
Dean made the connection instantly, "that guy? Guess we're still looking then, it can't be him if he's even dead. It's going after bullies not harassing the nerds."
They resecured the bus, leaving no sign they'd been there, and headed back to the impala. A few moments searching by Sam on his laptop turned up that Dirk Jr hadn't long survived poor Barry, only a couple of years, and he'd been cremated.
"Well that makes less than no sense." Dean commented.
"Tell me about it." Sam grumbled, "we burned the bones of my friend for nothing and the only connection we can find is to the school bully. It makes no sense, even given how warped vengeful ghosts view things, for him to be going after bullies."
"We've got some time before the afternoon shift of the bus drivers, how about going and talking to him. See if there's something that explains this." Dean suggested.
"Well it's not like we've got a better lead." Sam agreed reluctantly. It didn't promise to be an easy conversation after all.
It didn't take long to find the address, though Sam had to take a breath to steady himself before knocking.
"Yes?" The older man asked as he answered.
"Sorry to bother you, sir. I…was in the same class as your son back in '97, we were just passing through and decided to look up our old classmates. We were surprised to learn what happened and wanted to offer our condolences, belated as they are."
"Oh, well, come on in." He waved them in, "I'm Dirk Sr. Junior never introduced me to any of his school mates. You were friends with Dirk?"
"Uh…as much as anyone I guess. I never bore him any animosity." Sam replied, finding that he couldn't bring himself to lie to the man.
"Well can't say I'm surprised. He never had many friends at Truman. That you cared enough to look him up probably says you were the closest thing he had to one."
He waved them to the couch, "sit down. Did you want something to drink?"
"Thank you but no, it's fine." Sam declined, "may I ask what happened?"
"He was 18." Dirk Sr. stated sadly, "and…uh…well…first there was drinking, then drugs…then too many drugs…he just slipped through my fingers. It was my fault. I should have seen it coming, you know. Dirk…he…uh…he had his troubles."
"What kind of troubles?" Dean asked.
"School was never easy for Dirk. We didn't have much money…and…well…you know kids…they can be cruel. They picked on him."
Sam barely managed to keep a straight face, "they picked on him?"
Dirk Sr. nodded, "they called him poor, and dirty, and stupid. They even had a nickname for him. Dirk the Jerk."
Sam felt like he'd been kicked in the gut.
"After what happened to his mother…he…"
"His mother?" Sam asked.
"Jane, my wife. She died when Dirk was 13. Cancer."
Sam made a mental note that that was about 2 years before his brief encounter with him.
"I was working three jobs, so it fell to Dirk to take care of her." Dirk Sr. continued, "and he was a great kid. He made sure Jane got her medicine. He helped her, cleaned up after her. But…you know…you watch somebody die…slow…waste away to nothing. It does things to a person. Horrible things."
That certainly explained the attitude of the teachers towards him from what Sam could remember.
"I didn't know about his mother." Sam said softly. Though he wasn't sure if he would have acted differently if he had known, or if he could have acted differently. Dirk had pushed that confrontation even if Sam had finished it.
"He…wouldn't talk about her…not even to me." Dirk Sr. explained. He caught Sam's glance over at the photos of Dirk, "lot of anger in that boy."
"I'm sorry." Sam offered, feeling inadequate.
Dirk Sr. nodded his acceptance, then continued after a long silence, "he was no saint, I accept that. Used to get notes from the school all the time trying to deal with his…anger issues. Looking at you I guess you never had to put up with that side of him. Only them knowing about the cause kept him from suspension…or worse. Sometimes I wonder if that would have been better…"
"I knew him for only a short amount of time." Sam said.
"Back in '97 you said?"
"Yeah. Our father travelled for his work so we bounced through a number of schools." Dean explained, "came to Truman in November, we were gone by early December."
"You missed most of the cruelty directed at him then. '98 was when that really started. After he started drinking…he always blamed this one kid…never said his name…but far as I could tell all he did 'wrong' was stand up to him. I sure never blamed the kid…I knew what Dirk was like when he acted out."
Sam swallowed, trying to think of something to say and not sure he'd be able to get the words out.
"Did you keep a keepsake?" Dean asked.
Dirk Sr. nodded, "a lock of his hair. I keep it in my Bible on my bus most of the time. Was missing him so I took it with me over lunch, dropped it back off before I came home or I'd show it to you."
They had to have only just missed him at the depot.
"Now…I hate to rush you, it's not often I get to talk to people, but I need to get going to the afternoon shift."
"Of course, sir." Sam replied agreeably while swearing silently, that ruled out sneaking back to the depot to break in and grab it. The place had to be swarming with the afternoon drivers all getting ready to run the various school kids home.
Back in the impala Sam didn't need to keep his face impassive anymore and Dean paused as he went to start it up.
"What?"
"I'm the one who tagged him with that." Sam stated shortly.
"What?"
"Dirk the Jerk. I'm the one who came up with that. I'm the one who showed the school they didn't need to fear him."
"Hold on Sammy, he's the one who went after you day after day. You could have torn him to pieces and for some reason that completely baffles me you never did."
"I did actually. He was picking on Barry and I intervened, he shoved me to the ground when I tried to walk away…then…he called me a freak…and I lost it."
"Correct me if I'm wrong…but I don't remember a kid being taken to hospital in an ambulance."
"Didn't break anything. Just put him on the ground."
"Then you were holding back, he should have been grateful. You could have easily have put him in the hospital if you'd truly 'lost it'."
Sam just looked out the window and Dean was sure he hadn't taken the reassurance to heart.
"So what now? There's going to be drivers everywhere if we go back to the depot." Dean asked as he started up the impala and got them moving.
"We know the bus route, we could sit beside it, maybe pretend we've broken down, and deal with him when he comes after us. He was certainly angry enough with me at the school, he'll probably take the opportunity to come after me."
"That doesn't get us the lock of hair, he'd be stupid to bring it with him."
"Dean…I really don't want to deprive him of his keep sake…he's lost enough…"
"Dirk is anchored to that thing, only way to deal with him is to burn it."
"There is another way, remember."
If Dean hadn't been driving he'd have rolled his eyes, "no, Sammy. This isn't an emergency, I'm not risking scrambling your brains. You're still getting migraines occasionally from the run in with Alastair."
"Dean…"
"The answer is no."
"Then how do you plan on getting your hands on the hair?"
"We'll break back in after everyone's gone after the homeward school runs."
"Except that bus is scheduled to take the football team to an away game straight after."
"Shit."
"Exactly. An entire bus load of the type of kids he's been targeting. There's no way he's not going to do something."
"Damnit, Sammy."
"Face it, Dean, this is the only way we're going to take him out without having to do something crazy."
"Damnit. Okay, where?"
"Take the right just up ahead and stop near the park. Pop the bonnet so it looks like you're trying to fix the car."
"My baby wouldn't break down on us!"
"Dirk doesn't know that."
Grumbling Dean did as Sam suggested and a little while later as he pretended to work on the engine, and Sam leant against the boot, the bus they were interested in trundled past. He wasn't sure whether to hope the ghost took the bait or not.
A little while later a tall teenage boy approached and Dean knew the bait had been taken when Sam straightened and turned to face them.
"Dirk." He stated calmly, Dean didn't know how he could be so calm.
"Winchester." The ghost of Dirk snarled through the kid. He started to move forward to attack only to have Sam's telekinesis effortlessly hold him in place. Another layer, this time of his spiritual manipulation power, prevented the ghost from exiting.
"Sam Winchester, still a bully." Dirk snarled and Dean straightened angrily. Sam had never been a bully. Even though he could have handed the toughest jock their head all through high school he'd never been a bully. Dirk continued oblivious to the older brother's anger, "you…you jocks. You popular kids, you always thought you were better than everybody else. And to you, I was just Dirk the Jerk, right? Now you evil sons of bitches are gonna get what's coming to you."
"I'm not evil, Dirk." Sam stated and Dean relaxed a bit. The last thing he wanted was his little brother taking the venom of a vengeful ghost to heart, "I'm not. And neither were you. Trust me. I've seen real evil. We were scared and miserable and we took it out on each other. Us and everybody else. That's high school. But you suffer through that…and it gets better. I'm just sorry you didn't get a chance to see that. You or Barry."
"Nothing is gonna get better for me." Dirk snarled, "not ever."
"Yes it will." Sam stated more calmly than he felt, "you will gain peace."
Before he could second guess himself, or have Dean try to argue him out of it again, he reached out with his mind and snapped the tether holding him to this world. Dirk was gone in an instant and Sam could only hope that he would find some sort of rest wherever he ended up. Darkness rushed in from the edges of his vision and he felt Dean catch him before everything went completely black.
"Damnit Sammy." Dean grumbled as he shifted his hold on his now completely unconscious brother. Hauling the back door awkwardly open he manhandled his much larger brother inside, laid him on his side, and secured him before closing the door gently.
"Uh…what's going on?" The teenager asked in confusion.
"Call it a waking dream and go home kid." Dean told him.
"Uh…okay…" The kid, who Dean wasn't even interested in learning the name of at this point, headed off, presumably in the direction of his home.
Dean just hopped in the driver's seat and did what he'd wanted to do right from the start, got the hell out of town.
A couple of hours later, and a couple of towns over, he booked them into a random motel then dragged Sam into a fireman's hold and deposited him on the bed furthest from the door. Sam hadn't stirred in the entire drive and Dean was starting to worry.
Just like last time when Sam woke he went from unconscious to fully awake in less than a second.
"Where are we?" Sam asked.
Dean shoved a glass of juice into his hand and waited until he grudgingly sipped it before answering.
"Motel a couple of towns over. Figured we weren't needed there anymore, unless you knocking yourself out was for nothing."
"Dirk's gone, and hopefully at peace now."
"Good. Now how are you feeling?"
"I'm fine."
"Uh huh, I'm sure."
"What are you getting at, Dean?"
"Tell me completely truthfully you didn't take that load of crap Dirk threw at you to heart and I'll just go grab your dinner for you."
Sam opened his mouth to say just that then closed it again as he realised he couldn't truthfully say that and he simply couldn't bring himself to lie to his brother.
"Yeah, I thought so." Dean sat down next to him, "you do know you're not a bully, right? Not then. Not now."
"I beat him up in front of the whole school."
"After how long letting him shove you around and refusing to let me step in?"
"That doesn't matter."
"Sure it does. You could have easily broken a bone, or put him in hospital, on the first day and you wouldn't have got in trouble since you were simply defending yourself and of course it must have been an accident given he was twice your size."
"Exactly. I was more than capable of hurting him, and hurt him I did."
"You never go out of your way to hurt someone. The only thing you go out of your way to do is protect someone. Then and now."
Sam just looked away and Dean nearly growled in frustration.
"Fine." Dean stated, "if you're going to insist that you're a bully then I am too."
"What?" Sam looked at him startled, "you're nowhere near being a bully…"
"Closer than you are."
"Dean…"
"Take it or leave it, Sam, either we're both bullies or neither of us are."
"Dean."
"Both or neither."
"…neither."
"Good." Dean got up and headed into the kitchenette and the takeout he'd got delivered for them while waiting for Sam to wake.
