Hello and welcome back everyone! This chapter was suggested by TamashinoSuzume, so thank you for the suggestion! If you want to suggest a chapter, comment on this chapter or PM me your suggestion!

This chapter was written in two points of view (POV). First is Carter and then its Marissa, a senior that attends the high school Carter teaches at.

C: 23

S: 32

D: 36

Season: 11

This is Carter's second year of teaching

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural

~Carter's POV~

She was exhausted. Hell, she was one push away from screwing the whole day and just going home to sleep for 24 hours straight. She was beat. But the last thing she could do was take it out on her students. She did, after all, sign herself up for this. No one put a gun to her head and forced her to get an education and a job. It would actually be more realistic if someone put a gun to her head to not do it. She had no one to blame but herself. She did have to give it to herself, though; this was never the initial plan.

The initial plan was to attend online classes and still hunt, but as soon as she graduated and became a teacher, she would be done hunting forever. She didn't want to have to deal with any more monsters or hunters or anything related to the life. Especially since she would already be preoccupied with grading papers and planning lessons. She wouldn't have time to also research monsters and hunt them down.

The thing that brought her back, though, the straw the broke her camel, was the relief. There's nothing like killing monsters to get all your frustrations out. And after six months of teaching high school kids and living in suburbia, she needed the relief.

It was inevitable she would return to hunting, whether she would have liked to admit it or not.

~Marissa's POV~

Five months, three days, twelve hours, and 36 seconds until she was finally done with this school and done being the history department's bitch. If she had known the history teachers would be so needy, she never would have signed up to be their TAs. All she had done the past two weeks was grade papers and make endless copies every free minute she had. She barely had time to do her own work anymore. She was already knee-deep in swim season, so it wasn't like she had time after school to do it.

She didn't even want to have to think about her college applications. She had sent everything in well over a month ago and still hadn't heard anything back. It was driving her crazy not knowing their decision.

Not even spring break could save her from the hell she was enduring right now.

~Carter's POV~

Her teaching bag over one shoulder, left hand pushing a cart full of books, and a to-go coffee cup in her right hand, she made her way down the hallway towards her class. She walked slower than normal, a fact she tried to hide as much as possible. During her last never-ending hunt, she had twisted her right ankle trying to regain her weapon. It was definitely sorer in the morning light.

The late bell was close to ringing when Carter finally reached her class. The door was propped open, so she pushed the cart in and called to her class, "Good morning! Good morning!" Her usual greeting out of the way, she stopped the cart at the front of the class and walked to her desk. She lifted her right foot off the ground slightly as she stood there, relieving the pressure as she deposited her bag on the desk, her coffee cup next to it. She looked up at her students to determine who was here, and if anything was going on with them. Many of them continued talking and a few students still streamed into the room, no doubtedly coming from a class across the school.

Sighing, Carter sat down in her chair and pulled out her laptop, opening up the attendance sheet and her lesson plans. She took a sip of coffee as the late bell rang and stood up.

"Alright, everyone ready?"

~Marissa's POV~

Coming from a class just down the hall, Marissa was always one of the earlier students to her Mythology 1 class. She sat near the front, the side closest to the door. From her seat, she got a perfect view of everyone in the class.

She pulled out her phone while she waited; she answered various text messages and checked social media accounts. When one of her friends, Bridget, walked in, she stopped briefly to say hi and ask about homework.

When Ms. Winchester walked in, her phone went away instinctively.

When she did her normal greeting, Marissa sat forward and watched the woman walk across the room. She seemed … different? Yes, definitely different. Marissa leaned her arms on the desk and watched as Ms. Winchester sat down at her desk and took out her laptop.

Marissa had met Ms. Winchester the first day of school that year and from the beginning, Marissa had an odd feeling about her. She could never pinpoint exactly what she felt was off or what might be different about her and it drove her crazy. She started feeling guilty about it, too, after awhile. In all these months she hadn't found anything and she felt bad for thinking there could be anything different. What gave her the right to judge other people over something she didn't even have evidence about? But today seemed different. The childhood detective in her kicked in with violent force. She was determined to find that special thing about Ms. Winchester.

As Ms. Winchester started the class, most kids quieted down and a few turned back around to face the front. Ms. Winchester reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of clipped-together papers and announced, "Today we are starting our projects on our chosen deities. So if you could pull out your paper that has your deity on it, that'd be great." She walked to the farthest row of students from her and started passing papers back. As she walked across the front of the room, Marissa immediately noticed her limping. She blindly took out her paper while keeping both eyes on her teacher.

Ms. Winchester was wearing a high-cut long-sleeved sweater with black pants and some kind of black shoe that covered the whole foot. She had her hair spilling down her back in natural waves. And as Marissa looked closer, she could see a little darkening on her jawline.

Shit.

Marissa was well acquainted with the color of a hidden bruise.

~Carter's POV~

Carter finished passing out the papers and turned around, walking back to the middle of the front of the room. "I'm not going to read this whole paper, you can read it on your own. But basically, today you are just researching your deity using the books at the front. We are not using online texts today, we will do that next week. Any questions?" She paused and looked over the class; her breath trying to remain slow, due to the pain in her ankle. When no one had any questions, she continued, "Alright, you may get to work. Please be kind to these books, they're very old and well-loved. I'll be at my desk if any of you have any questions." She turned around and happily sat back down in her seat. She crossed her legs, trying to relieve some of the pain in her ankle by elevating it. She had wrapped it and iced it as well as she could last night, but it was still very much swollen. She opened up her computer and quickly submitted the attendance sheet.

Slowly, students came up to the cart to grab a book. One by one, they searched through books that may have their deity and then went back to their seats. Carter pulled out a stack of ungraded tests and took a long sip of coffee. Grading was her least favorite thing to do. It often became monotonous and sometimes saddening. She hated grading papers of students that obviously didn't understand a lesson at all. Perhaps it was because she often times was that student. And it was awful feeling stupid.

~Marissa's POV~

Marissa had grabbed the book off the cart that looked like it would contain her deity. She had begun flipping through it almost absentmindedly instead of starting her research. This book was a lot to take in. It had pictures and text after text after text. The writing was old, so it took a few tries to fully understand a paragraph. And not only did the writing show the book's age, but so did its appearance. Dozens of pages had bent corners, some pages were folded clean in half, there was clear coffee and other drink stains on several pages and even down the edge of the book. As she flipped through, she found a handful of scraps of paper with little notes on them and-

Marissa froze.

As she flipped the page, the unmistakable appearance of a photo stopped her. She quickly looked up and around at the students near her to make sure they weren't watching her. When they weren't, she turned back to the photo and flipped it over in her hand, taking in the scene before her. A little girl no older than five was being held by an older teen. She had a big smile on her face as she regaled no doubt a wonderful tale and the teen stared lovingly at the child. When she flipped the photo back over, faint pencil writing caught her eye. Scrawled in the corner was, "Carter and Dean, 1997." She flipped the picture back over and took in the child's features. Her looks coupled with the name made Marissa certain this child was her teacher.

Suddenly a set of approaching footsteps behind Marissa scared her out of her trance. Without thinking, she shoved the picture into her notebook and gazed down at the book in front of her. A student passed Marissa on her left and paid no attention to the students she was passing. Marissa breathed a quiet breath of relief. She was about to pull the picture back out when the bell rang. As if awaken from a trance, all the students around looked up from their books and started packing their things up.

"Please return your books to the cart and I will see you all tomorrow!" Ms. Winchester called out from her desk. Marissa shut her book and notebook and packed all her items away. Pulling the picture out now would be impossible. She was stuck with it.

It wasn't until her lunch, four periods later, that Marissa finally got the chance to find Ms. Winchester. As she walked into the history office, the first thing that caught her eye was Ms. Winchester's desk. It was the first one in the room and faced away from the door. This allowed for the young teacher to rely on visitors announcing their presence, instead of their presence announcing the visitor.

Before knocking, Marissa stopped. Her young detective skills kicked in and she took advantage of the fact that Ms. Winchester thought she was alone. The young teacher was seated in her chair, bending down to her right side rubbing her ankle. Her pant leg was raised slightly and Marissa could see a swollen and bruised ankle peeking out. Swallowing hard, Marissa meekly raised her fist and knocked on the open door.

Immediately, Ms. Winchester sat up and turned towards the door, her attention on the new visitor. As she recognized one of her students, a small smiled spread across her face.

"Marissa, right?" She asked in a light tone. When Marissa gave her a slight nod, she continued, "What can I do for the department TA?"

Marissa took note that she did not stand from her chair, and she was grateful for it. An ankle like hers would hurt sitting down, nevermind standing up.

"I actually need to talk to you, if that's okay." She stepped farther into the room and the young teacher nodded her head.

"Of course!" She turned to her left and cleaned a stack of papers off the chair next to her. Marissa swung her bag off her shoulder and sat down in the chair, her bag sitting next to her on the floor. "What's up?"

Marissa pushed away the image of her teacher's ankle and instead focused back on the real reason she came there. She reached down into her bag and pulled her Mythology notebook out. She turned to her teacher. "I was looking through one of your books for the project and I found," she opened the notebook and pulled out the picture, "this tucked between one of the pages. I figured it belonged to you." She handed to Ms. Winchester and quickly added, "I didn't mean to take it, honest. The bell rang and I wasn't thinking; I put it into my notebook. I came down here as soon as I had a free period."

Ms. Winchester was nodding her head and she looked down at the picture. Marissa looked closer at her teacher and noticed a look she had never seen before: a look of sadness and longing.

"No, no, that's alright." She looked up at Marissa and asked, "You said it was in one of my books?" Marissa nodded and Ms. Winchester looked back down at the picture in her hands. "I must have left it in there on accident. I used to have to spend hours looking through these books nights on end. Sometimes pictures like these are what kept me going."

Marissa pocketed the information into her head, adding even more mystery to her already mysterious teacher. "Is it you?" She asked tentatively.

Ms. Winchester chuckled softly. "Yeah, this is me and my older brother, Dean. I couldn't have been more than four or five years old."

Marissa smiled and looked down at the picture and then back up at her teacher. After a moment of silence, Marissa spoke up again, this time tentatively, "Can I ask you something?" She looked at her teacher's face and hoped with all being in her body that her teacher would confide in her. She's been through her teacher's situation before and she could help her through it. She wanted to make sure Ms. Winchester knew she had options.

She didn't have to be abused anymore.

~Carter's POV~

Carter stared down at the picture she had lost long ago. She thought she would never see it again and now that she had it again, it made her so happy. It had been her favorite picture of her and Dean and she always kept it on her as a kid. She often kept it in front of her mythology books when she researched monsters for her brothers at all hours of the night. This picture reminded her of why she did what she did, so she could have a little more strength and keep researching.

The night she lost it now became clear to Carter. She was holding the picture in her hands one night when her brothers burst into the motel room and demanded her attention. She laid the picture down on the book and shut the cover without much thought. When she went back to look for it, it was several days later and since it wasn't stuck in the binding, the book didn't immediately flip to it when she opened it back up. And finding it again through the thin pages proved to be a difficult task. It had become lost to her.

Marissa's soft voice broke Carter's thoughts. She looked up at her student and noticed her concerned face. "Yeah, of course." She put the picture on her lap and turned towards her a little more.

Marissa took a deep breath before asking, "Are you okay?" When Carter's face changed to a questioned look, she continued, "I mean, we both know I saw you rubbing your ankle, and by the way you walked into class, I could tell it was broken or otherwise. And the bruises on your jaw are not that well-hidden. I've noticed you get cuts and bruises before, but I've just never said anything but I need to know," she took a quick breath and talking fast, "are you being abused? Because I can help you; I've been through this myself so I know what to do."

Not expecting her question, Carter let out a soft laugh. "Sweetheart, I'm not being abused, and I'm sorry that you went through that. But I'm okay, really." Carter looked into her student's eyes and gave her the most convincing look she could manufacture.

To Carter's credit, it wasn't entirely a lie. I mean, abuse? She wouldn't consider this abuse. But really, where does one draw the line? She did get beat senseless by a vampire, but Carter initiated that fight. The vampire was leaving Carter alone up until she entered its nest. (But the fact that the vampire wasn't leaving everyone else alone is another story.) So, abuse? Maybe on a broad spectrum. But this case would appear to be more like effects-of-a-fight rather than abuse.

To someone else's eyes, Carter's life could be seen as one long line of endless abuse. And it appears one of those people doesn't want to sit by anymore and watch it happen.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to just push this away because you're scared. There's lots of people out there that can help; it doesn't have to be me," Marissa enforced, giving Carter an empathetic look.

Carter chuckled again. "Marissa, I'm fine." A lie quickly coming to her head, she said, "I sprained my ankle walking through the yard yesterday. Damn gopher holes are everywhere. And the bruise on my jaw? Got that from cutting some branches off my tree. I had one held back but it slipped from my hand and whacked me in the face." Carter looked away from Marissa for a moment and said, "Man, I had a rough day yesterday."

~Marissa's POV~

Taking in all this information, Marissa looked down. She couldn't believe she had been so wrong. Silently, she scolded her childhood detective side. It had always gotten her in trouble and has never broughten any good. It was time to hang that up for good.

"Oh," she relented and looked down at her hands on her lap. "I'm sorry I asked, I-"

Marissa's apology was interrupted by a shrill ringing. Immediately, Ms. Winchester reached down to her bag and pulled out a black smartphone. As she looked at the caller-ID, a look of slight happiness crossed her face. She turned to Marissa and apologized, "I'm sorry, but I have to take this."

Marissa's eyebrows rose, "Oh, no problem. I should go eat lunch anyway." She stood up from her seat and grabbed her bag, relieved to have the interruption. "I'll see you in class tomorrow; bye Ms. Winchester."

She started walking towards the door and her teacher replied back, "See ya tomorrow!" Marissa was at the door when Ms. Winchester answered the phone. She paused in the doorway when her greeting surprised her, "Hey, Dean. How'd it go?"

But sighing, Marissa forced herself out the door and down the hall. As much as she wanted to learn all about Carter's big brother, she was was done snooping in other people's business. The childhood detective in her was staying in the past for now on.

That's it! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think! I'll see you next time!