Dean had already packed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and started to head towards the door when Professor Singer interrupted the en masse departure of his students with an oddly stern announcement of, "Oh, Winchester, c'n you stay behind? I have to speak with ya."
Immediately, of course, every single student promptly turned around to look - not that Dean Winchester was embarrassed or blushing as a result, of course… not at all - and they all heard his response (which wasn't at all stuttered, of course), of, "Y-yeah, no problem."
Luckily, that was all they heard before turning and filing out of the door, giving Dean time to drop his stuff off by his seat. (He definitely didn't need a few moments to keep himself from freaking out. Sure, it was the first time he'd been asked by a teacher to stay after class and talk about something, but that wasn't a big deal. At all. Barely a bump in the road. Also, the time between then and when the room was finally empty wasn't nerve-wracking at all.)
He did, however, head off the conversation - not that he was nervous… just because it was good manners - with, "Everything okay?"
Dean did not have to stifle a sigh of relief when Singer nodded with an urgency that suggested an inherent of course. "Yeah, kid." He headed over to his desk - an old wooden thing with emphasis on the old that sat to one side of the lecture hall - and sat down on one corner of it. "You've seemed a li'l… distracted lately. Everything a'ight?"
Well… on the one hand, at least Dean wasn't in trouble. On the other hand… of course he had to ask the one thing that was hardest to answer. Sure, he'd been distracted over the past few days because of Ca-Sam - Sam, of course, not Cas. Stupid mistake… Cas, Sam, same letters, two-thirds of them the same… was he rambling? He was rambling. - but he couldn't very well 'fess up to the fact that they'd adopted a cow.
Maybe, if he just… well… avoided it… it'd go away. He didn't chuckle nervously. He did say, "Distracted? Nah, 'course not. 'S all good."
Singer levelled a Cas-worthy glare at him (though it was different in some elusive, undefinable way) and shook his head. "Dean, you've been using your phone in my class. That's distracted." Dean was halfway through shrugging and not-chuckling-nervously again when the professor interrupted. "That's unlike you."
Okay, outright avoiding was a no… Take two: "Just some stuff goin' on with my roommate. Sorry… should die down in a bit, though."
"Oh. I see. Is your-" He broke off with a cough… which had nothing whatsoever to do with what he was saying, of course. "-roommate okay?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, he just… did something that's making stuff difficult."
"Oh, you two finally g't togeth-"
"Whoa , wait, wait, wait, what ?" (Dean may have just interrupted the professor, but it was kinda called for. Singer wouldn't get pissed. Probably.)
The professor moved past it without addressing Dean's interruption. "What'd he do, then?"
Dean was really going for a record in the tempting-fate department: interrupting wasn't enough; maybe lying would help. "Uh… nothing."
"If you two ain'-" He broke off, shaking his head. "Dean, what'd he possibly do?"
"What the hell is with you people and my damn roommate?" And he was apparently going for the triple crown because, well… cursing in front of a professor wasn't widely advised. On the plus side, Singer didn't address it. On the downside, he didn't address it because he also… didn't speak. And, not that Dean was anxious about the silence and nor was he hurrying to answer, but… he answered quickly. "I can't tell you."
"Have ya seen you two? You're like two peas in a damn pod."
Dean blinked.
"You haven't considered it?"
"That's not the point."
Singer seemed to be reconsidering his choices to the same degree Dean was judging by the way he took off his seemingly-omnipresent baseball cap, passed his hand over his forehead, and then slammed the hat back on. "Dean… ya didn't answer th' question. Th' first question."
"I told you, I can't really… tell you." Dean Winchester was smooth. "You know what I mean."
Singer tilted his head. "Why?" (And no, that gesture did not send Dean's thoughts spiralling towards Cas. That'd be weird.)
"Because… I just… can't." Dean paused, absolutely not feeling a little bad about the whole thing. "Look, there's something going on with my renting situation."
"I'm older than you, Dean, and I've seen some shit." (Dean did not have to stifle a chuckle. He also didn't have a voice that sounded suspiciously like Cas whispering bullshit in his head.) "Maybe I can help you figure it out."
And, well… Cas had said he could tell people if they wouldn't spill the secret, so (without any nervous chuckling)... "This conversation apply to FERPA? Professor-student confidentiality a thing?"
The professor shifted, eyebrows disappearing beneath his hat. "Uh… sure does, kid. This hafta do with your dad?"
"Kinda. He's my landlord."
"And?"
"And… uh… Cas adopted a cow."
To his credit, Singer just nodded. "And you… what, live in a farmhouse?"
"No, just a house. A normal one."
"And the cow stays… where?"
"I used to have my own room."
That clearly phased the professor enough that he blinked in bemused silence. "And now… it's… the cow's?"
Dean tried to keep a straight face behind a somewhat calm, "Yeah."
"Oh. Okay. Well… Uh… And John doesn't know?"
"It's… distinctly possible that he doesn't know. Uh… He might have a no-animals policy?"
"I, uh… I've never dealt with a situation like this before."
Dean nodded. "You're tellin' me."
Singer shook his head, obviously still silently flabbergasted (and if his expression wasn't an overwhelmingly accurate representation of Dean's brain dealing with Cas, Charlie, or Samantha…) And then he had to ruin it. "Wait… is the cow at least cute?"
"Ye-" Dean blinked. "I mean, no. No! She decided my room was her toilet, and sh- it sure wasn't cute then. Or when she ate my scarf. Or the curtains I bought."
"Ya got pictures?"
"Yeah… Cas pretty much spammed me with 'em during your lecture." Which… was maybe not the best thing to say to the professor. "Er… sorry 'bout that."
"Show me?"
Two seconds passed with the screen held between them.
"She's adorable."
The arm attached to the hand holding Dean's phone sagged and then returned the device to his pocket. "Yeah, well… tell that to my dad."
Singer shook his head. "FERPA… can't."
"Hilarious." Not that Dean was being sarcastic, but… okay, fine, he actually was being sarcastic that time. In the end, he just flopped onto a chair. "He's already getting noise complaints. We tried soundproofing the room-" And they had… it had taken all afternoon to pin five blankets against each window, tighten them against the glass with vacuum-sealed plastic sheets until Samantha couldn't eat her way through it, and about fifty packets of hay upended onto the (freshly-papered, because he couldn't deal with milk soaking through the paper and into his floorboards) floor. "-but I don't know how long that's gonna last."
"Yeah, idjit, you've a damn cow in your bedroom."
Dean blinked. "I got that, thanks."
"Look, kid…" Singer sighed, knocking the hat from his head again, and not bothering to replace it. "Why can't ya just… give the cow back? To…" He gestured widely. "Whoever he stole it from."
Dean snorted. "We don't know where he got her. And, uh…" A bit more importantly… Or, well, not more importantly. Equally important. Less important. Totally. 100%. Absolutely. But he'd already started the damn sentence, so, "He likes her. He's named her. And is convinced she can talk."
"He thinks… that she can talk?"
Dean nodded. "She helped him get outta some trouble with my dad." Singer opened his mouth, and Dean really, really didn't want to go into that. "Don't ask."
"Cas 'n' a cow outsmarted yer old man? I hafta meet these two." A second, then, "Wait, back up… the cow took yer room… Where're ya sleepin'?"
"Uh…" How to say I sleep with my roommate without saying I sleep with my roommate . "I slept on the floor-"
"Slept is past tense, Dean. Where are you sleeping?"
Dammit. "I mean… We're actually… Roommates now."
"Yer sharing a… room?" It was easiest just to nod. Dean did. "Okay, well… quite a predicament." Another moment of silence. "I don't see much that needs ta be changed, Dean. Ya can't really do much 'bout it."
Dean let his head fall back against the chair's headrest. "Yeah. Figured as much."
"But I've some experience with animals… I could help with her."
"Uh…" That would be… unexpectedly helpful. "I gotta talk to Cas, but… sure, thanks."
"Sure, kid." Dean stood, picking his bag up again and slinging it over his shoulder again, turning to go. "Just… don't be distracted in my class. And if ya do… hide it better."
