A/N: Sorry, this one's kind of short, but it's really intense.

If You Dare Challenge - #4 (Reality bites)

Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #587 (perfect)

Fanfiction Writing Month: October [942]

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Once class began, Sam and Dean sat in the back of the classroom, paying attention but never drawing attention to themselves. Their first class was Science. Easy. Their teacher told them everything that they had to do, so it would be difficult for them to make a mistake.

The other students were wary of the Winchesters; Dean would glare at anyone who came anywhere near the two of them. Usually, the new kids were easy targets, but the Winchester boys... They were left alone. They spoke to each other during class, but Dean curled in on himself. When faced with teachers, he turned into Dean the soldier: obedient, silent, and mentally absent. When faced with other students, he turned into Dean the hunter: aggressive, violent, and protective. With Sam, he was...just Dean.

History was great. Because there was only one extra desk, Sam pulled up a chair to Dean's new desk, so they did their class work together. Sam whispered the questions to Dean, who answered them smoothly; all of their studying lore gave them a lot of practice.

Math was decent for both of them, and during lunch they spoke in Latin to one another and ate their sandwiches alone.

Things generally went smoothly for the Winchester boys; they stayed out of trouble. Dean was eating more—although only a couple of bites more—and a couple of times he didn't call him 'sir.' What excited him the most, however, was that Dean was actually making a friend. Castiel and Dean now spent the afternoons together, playing card games and board games unless they had chores. A couple of times, he even saw Dean smile. Sonny observed the two playing Candyland with Sam. Everything was perfect...until English class Thursday afternoon. Mr. Anderson, their teacher, handed Sam and Dean each a copy of The Open Window. "Dean, would you like to start reading?"

Dean looked, horrified, at Sam, who was one desk away. He stared at the packet of words, and all of a sudden the world started to close in on him. Sam, easily recognizing the signs, stood up to help his brother.

"Sit down, Sam. Dean can do it on his own."

Dean's hands clenched, and he looked up to find that his teacher was much too close. He gasped, "Sam—"

"Dean, we're on the top of the second page. Start from "She looked," okay?"

Dean nodded, pale. He felt sick, but he tried to push it down. "Sh–she look—she looked—" He glanced at Sam, eyes wide. The girl sitting beside him pointed at the next part of the sentence, and he stared at it absently.

"Dean?" A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jerked away so hard that he knocked the packet off of the desk. Mr. Anderson picked it up and placed it on his desk. "Start from here."

"No," Dean said quietly.

"What?"

"No," he repeated. "I won't." He couldn't let Sonny find out; this was the only way.

Mr. Anderson frowned, stepped closer, and Dean's fear overwhelmed him, washing over every inch of him until he was shaking and seeing red. "No!" he screamed. "Sam!"

Sonny was called to the school after an apparent incident with Dean during English class. Honestly, he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. When he walked into the school, he was met with a frightening sight. Dean sat in the corner of the room, shaking and holding a kitchen knife, guarding Sam with his body. His eyes were wild, and he looked feverish. He was shining with sweat and he was deathly pale. "N-n-no!" he cried once he saw Sonny. He brandished his knife at him. "D-don't come—" He coughed violently. "C-closer…"

"Dean," Sonny warned, "put the knife down. Everything is fine."

Dean's eyes glistened. "He's gonna… He's gonna kill me…"

Sonny's stomach dropped. Was he talking about his father? "Dean, no one's going to hurt you. You're okay. You're not in any danger."

Dean shook his head and started to cry. "He's—he's g-gonna… kill m-m-me…"

"Dean, no—"

"He knows, he kn-n-nows…"

"What, Dean? Kid, what are you talking about?"

Dean cringed, sobbing. "He knows I can't…"

"Can't what?"

"C-can't" —he sobbed again— "read…"

Dean hadn't been taking his medication; Sam confessed after Dean passed out and began to cough up spots of blood. Sonny found the stash of pills in their unused bottom bunk. He put Dean on bedrest until the fever finally broke. He had Dr. Gilmore on the phone constantly, but she assured him that Dean would be fine as long as he started taking his medication again. She even visited a couple times to check on him. Sonny put the boy in a separate room so he could get some quiet, and Sam moved with him. They stayed together throughout the whole ordeal, because Sam refused to go to school without Dean for fear that Sonny would beat him while he was gone.

Sonny was worried about what Dean had said. He couldn't read. He went back and flipped through Dean's file again, finding clues that he had skipped before. One teacher in particular recognized the signs when Dean had an outburst during class. He had outright refused to do the work that she gave him unless Sam was there. Unless… Sam must have been able to read. Kathy Gavinski had tested Sam, but no one had tested Dean. Most sixth graders could already read, after all. They had simply assumed… Oh, God. No wonder Dean needed Sam to be there during class; Sam did all of the reading for him because Dean couldn't do it himself. Dean relied on Sam for a most basic need: written communication.

A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone! The support and reviews I've gotten have been so, so wonderful. Next chapter will be posted sometime tomorrow.