Surely enough, the math was conquered. It had taken every bit of Sonny's patience to explain the bits he was sure the teacher had gone over, but Dean apparently hadn't understood, so it was okay. He would do this if that's what it took for Dean to learn it.

Sonny did doubt now, whether he had placed Dean in the correct math class though. He truly seemed absolutely clueless, whereas Sonny had figured he just hadn't had enough opportunity to do the homework or study. Perhaps they should knock him down a level. Oh well. That was a decision far beyond his abilities at 2 in the morning.


The school day that followed was slower than slug slime dripping off a spoon, as Bobby would say. It was just more of the same introduction type crap, along with more math - much to Dean's disdain. School is much less fun when one has to behave.

He really did hate the hallways. One way in, one way out, both blocked by hundreds of students. This school was particularly bad, in that there were far too many students for the size of building.

Huddled in the corner of the lunch room, Dean's thoughts drifted to Sam, wondering how he was doing. What he was thinking. It's Sam's lunch too, he knows, so presumably he's eating, and hopefully, carefully Dean thinks, making some friends.


Sam glanced curiously across the room at a girl who was all alone. She was small, he thought, like him. It was then that he made up his mind and trotted over to her.

"Hi." he said. She didn't answer, instead just peering up at him, watching him.

Sam shifted back and forth for a second, indecisive before setting down across from her. He looked at her. She looked at him.

"I saw you earlier." Still, no response.

Sam opens up his sack lunch, investigating the contents for a moment before setting it out on the table. She stared at him. There was no malice in her stare, no indication that she didn't want him here, so Sam continued, beginning to chow down on his sandwich. The girl returned to her soup.

They ate in a comfortable silence. Soon, there were only a few minutes remaining in the lunch, and both kids had tucked away most of their meal. The girl's eyes glanced back up to Sam, questioning almost, but she still didn't utter a word. Sam felt compelled to explain something, although what he had no idea. So he settled for why he had eaten with her.

"You looked like you needed a cookie, and well - I have two." Sam slid the cookie across the table. "I hope you like chocolate chip."

The girl accepted the cookie, still watching him as she took a bite. Sam saw her lips twitch at the corners, and he smiled back as he bit into his own.

Then the bell wrung and chaos erupted around them as people made their way back to classes. Sam began to shrug his backpack back on.

"My name is Sam - what's your's?"

The girl only smiled back, put on her bag, and disappeared amongst the crowd.


Dean sat at the water's edge mulling over the idiocy that was math. He couldn't decide which was more stupid - it for existing, or him for not understanding it. It was evening now, settling in on dusk, and Sonny had declared that both of them should take a break from his math homework, lest they both say or do things they will regret.

Which was well and good, because words even his father rarely said had been resting on cusp of his lips. Yes, a break was a good idea.

This is why he found himself off in the woods, alone, dangling his bare toes into the creek. This was his spot now, he knew. Because no one knew about it, not even Sam.

Or so he thought.

Dean's eyes narrowed, catching on a large rock that definitely wasn't there the last time he had come.

He stood, eyes flicking about to see if anything else had changed. It hadn't.

Approaching the rock carefully, Dean looked for anything that would imply it had been cursed or was meant to trigger a snare of some sort. Again, there was nothing.

Grabbing a sturdy long, stick Dean poked at the rock, pushing it over. His heart skipped a beat. Etched on the bottom of the stone was a code. His code. His and his father's. Dean scrambled forwards, grabbing the rock, then washing it off in the water to get a better look. Only two symbols greeted him.

Safe. Safe?

His father had been here. Dad was alright. He was safe, and he was asking if Dean was as well. The words weren't much, but then, his father had never been a particularly verbose man either. Those two words meant the world to him. It told him that John was sticking around, or at the very least checking in on them. He hadn't abandoned them and he was coming back someday.

Of course Dean had already know that. Of course he had, but it felt nice to have reassurance.

Finding another sizable rock, Dean pulled out his knife and hastily scratched the same symbol into it.

Safe.

After replacing the original stone in its spot and adding the additional one, Dean began his trek back out of the woods feeling lighter than he had in weeks.


A/N: Well... It's not exactly before New Years, but it has been fewer than three months since my last update - so I'm calling it a win. I'm trying to get the plot rolling, but honestly there is a lot of background to build for the plot to make sense. I'll get there eventually, I promise.