Chapter One

Sam was lying about his age.

Again.

But, really, who was going to hire a 20-year-old English teacher for high school? It wasn't as if he hadn't earned his Masters degree, either. He had just skipped a few grades due to his knack for books, learning, and over-all genius, if he did say so himself. It was only two years, really.

And in a town as tiny as Forks, Washington, who cares? The teacher he was subbing for certainly didn't. She was as thankful as everyone else at the high school. He just hoped that no one really thought about it. Or recognized his name.

That was another thing. No aliases for him, not this time. If he was going to settle down, he was going to do it properly, damnit. That meant his real name, no more guns, late night salt and burns, and no ties to the hunting community.

Even if that included lying to his father about attending a normal college…in Hawaii. That just insured that John would never look for him here, should anything go wrong. He was free to make his own decisions about the way he lived his life (however long he had left to live it), away from suspicious eyes and shady people. Or visa versa.

But, back to the lying thing. He truly was going to be as honest as possible, even if he had to lie about his age, background (for the most part,) and abilities. Yeah, honesty was his middle name.

As for his abilities… Yes, he was a psychic. A pretty powerful one, if you asked the right people. He had trained himself hard and long to control it, too, and he hoped that it would pay off here. Still, he felt like a freak coming into this small town of normal-as-can-be people.

That was, until he went to his first day of school.

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He had bought a house, one story, two bedroom, two bathroom home away from the urban streets and near the edge of the forest. It had been empty for years, and had needed some serious cleaning and refurbishing. It had taken him an entire three days to fix all the problems and another two to furnish it before he could even unpack any of his belongings. Mostly, it was just his books and some odds and ends from storage, but in the end, it was the few pieces from the past and his life that made it feel like a home. All the dishes, cookery, most of the clothing, and washer, drier, dishwasher, fridge, and TV were all new, but considering the major discount he was able to secure on the house, it was a small amount to pay.

Besides, it was hardly a dent in his savings account that he had built up since he was fourteen. It kind of amazed him how much he had been able to accumulate over only six years of unsteady work and paychecks. On his sixth day in Forks, though, he was thoroughly exhausted from all the work he had had to put into the place. But sitting on the cushy couch, watching a pilot episode from a new show with the heating system running smoothly, he felt a surge of pride, and a huge pit of excitement for the coming Monday.

And, of course, that night was when he realized why the place had been abandoned for so long.

A cold chill fell over the bedroom suddenly and his bed began to shake annoyingly. And a haunting voice called out:

"Fear me…"

And Sam could only groan out:

"Fuck me,"

Before making the decision to investigate the property's history - like he should have in the first place.

The only thing he could do then, though, was plop a pillow over his face and mentally flips the ghost (who had obviously gotten used to scaring teenagers away, with lame tactics like that) off.

So, really, the week before he started his new job was an eventful one.

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Sam was feeling pretty good about the whole living in Forks situation as he prepared his desk for the day, looking over his empty classroom and making sure it was clean and ready for anything. He had heard the gossip starting already in the teacher's lounge as they tried to surreptitiously observe him as he made himself a cup of joe. It was almost laughable how bad they were at being subtle, and he wondered if the kids were any worse about whispering in the halls or passing notes.

Not wanting to be known as the weirdo teacher that keeps to himself, he greeted the other teachers and struck up some amiable conversation. He was a natural people person, laying on the charm thick and smooth when they asked the right questions, making a joke or changing the subject delicately when they inquired about the wrong ones. Somehow, he knew that dealing with the teenagers was going to be tremendously more difficult.

He couldn't have been more right.

The students filed in first period after the bell rang, each of them sizing him up before they found their seat. He stiffened as he felt two of the students pass, noticing the difference in them immediately. Outwardly, he made sure that nothing about him changed, his easy stance and blank smile kept just so. As they all sat and settled, he carefully came to terms with the new additions to the ever-growing supernatural tinge to the town.

Then, he felt a prodding to his mental barriers. He kept them up, looking down and away from the students as he wrote his name on the white board. Sam could deal with the new developments later, he forced himself to compartmentalize.

"My name is Mr. Winchester," He said, turning to the rest of the class, "And I'll be your English teacher for the rest of the year,"

A loud bustle and bursting conversation fell over the room as Sam allowed the students a few moments to ponder this. A hand went into the air.

"Yes?" He nodded to the girl. "Ms…?"

"Bella, sir," The brown-haired girl said, "What happened to Mrs. Michaels?"

"She wanted a vacation, I guess," Sam shrugged, thankful for the sudden silence of the room.

"Any other questions before we begin?" Sam nodded to a girl in the back.

"Like, how tall are you?" She asked as she popped her gum.

Oh, dear God, save me now.

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Truthfully, the day didn't go as badly as Sam had dreaded. Sure, there had been a few recurring and frustrating questions from his students (mostly from the female variety) and the whole discovery that supernatural beings also happened to be high school attendees, but all in all, he found that he actually enjoyed his new job. It was a strange and sudden epiphany that kept occurring to him over the next few weeks, the feeling of accomplishment and control over his life, for the first time in years.

Everything seemed to be going well for him. His students liked him, turned in their work on time, added to the discussions (though he thought that the candy rewards probably helped with that), and the average grade for the class was at the eighty percentile level. There were three things that plagued him, though.

The first was the interaction between Bella and Edward, a human and a vampire. He had seen them together his entire time teaching and almost everywhere else he might have happened upon them. Sam was a cautious man by nature and wisdom, so while he understood that Edward would never do anything to harm Bella, he still felt that he needed to extend his protection to her – and that meant making his previous life to known to a girl he hardly knew. He was pretty adept at reading people, however, and he trusted his instincts in this matter. Bella was someone he could trust.

On a sunny day in the third week, he made his move. The second period preceded a fifteen minute break for the students before third, so he called Bella to the front after class ended.

Sam smiled and waited until the rest of the students left the room, the doors falling shut behind them. He kept his posture relaxed and unassuming, trying to convey that he was no threat to her.

"What did you need me for, Mr. W?" Bella started, tilting her head to the right. He could sense from her emotions that she was off-balance, unsure and somewhat agitated about a problem. It was the main reason that he wished to talk to her.

"I know that you haven't known me for a while, Bella," Sam said, leaning against the front of his desk, "But I wanted you to know that whatever you may need help with, I'm here for you. Even if it's just to rant or talk about anything, I can be a good friend."

Bella frowned slightly, but nodded. "That's good to know, thank you."

"Look, I'm going to be straight-forward with you." Sam sighed, steeling himself for her reaction, "I know that your boyfriend's a vampire – that his whole family is."

Bella's eyes widened, "But…How? Are you a family friend or-"

"I'm a psychic, Bella." Sam interrupted, "A human psychic. I know it might be hard to believe, but there it is. I don't care if you tell Edward and the others about this; he's already confused enough about not being able to read my mind." Sam took another deep breath and looked carefully into her eyes.

"I just needed you to know that if you ever need someone to help you or talk to about the supernatural, I'm here. I know how lonely it can be when you're surrounded by all that weirdness. It's been my whole life. I know how difficult it can be, and I needed to let you know that. My house is always open."

Bella stood staring at him for a long moment. It was pretty obvious that she didn't know how to respond to everything that she had just been told, but she didn't appear to be afraid of him, so that was a plus in his column.

Again, finally, she nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."

Sam smiled wanly, saying, "Out of class, just call me Sam."

She made a sound of agreement and moved to the doorway, turning back to him before she reached for the handle.

"What kind of psychic are you?" Bella seemed genuinely curious, looking him straight in the eye.

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but then the bell for break's end rang. He grinned apologetically, "Sorry. I'll explain another time,"

Bella, still a little shell-shocked, walked out slowly, bidding him goodbye. Sam didn't know what would happen next, or how the Cullens' would react, but he hoped that he had made himself clear. A retired hunter he may be, but a self-delusional moron he would never fool himself into.

First problem, he mentally tallied off, half-way solved.

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That evening, he visited the police station. Why? Because his nightmares were getting to be ridiculous. He kept returning to the night that his mother died, seeing different and more disturbing things each night. Really, he thought to himself, I'm too old to be having night terrors.

It wasn't like he repressed his memories of that night, either. He may have for a while when he was younger, but as an adult he had faced them full on, having to come to terms with everything that had happened that night, under the strict guidance of Missouri.

And what did that have to do with the local police station? Sam wanted that police report, everything that they had on his family's history, so that he could go over them in more detail and see if he had missed anything too important from his childish point of view.

That was how he came face to face with one of his father's old friends, Charlie Swan, the police chief.

"Sam? Sam Winchester?" Charlie repeated, shaking Sam's hand firmly. "I haven't seen you since you were six… How's your father? John still in the cars business?"

"Oh, yeah, can't get him away from his old Impala." Sam replied, skating the rim of the truth very finely. "Listen, I'm sorry that I haven't come by earlier, but I need a favor,"

"Anything I can do to help. I remember that fire call like it was yesterday. I'm sorry that I never got to say this to either of you before, but I'm very sorry about your loss." Charlie said, lowering his eyes momentarily with a stern expression on his usually open face.

"Thank you." Sam answered quietly. "I was… wondering if I could get the report on that old fire. I need to get some closure…" Sam rubbed the back of his neck, not looking Charlie in the eye.

"Of course, Sam. I know that you haven't been here since that night, it must have been hard to come to terms with it," Charlie nodded, pushing up from his seat and going to an old file cabinet.

Ten minutes later, Sam had the file in hand, and was rushing to get back home. He stopped, though, when he felt a faint change in the air, his senses telling him there was something amiss. He carefully looked around.

Sam knew the moment he saw him. It was another vampire. A police officer in the back corner office, looking over a stack of paperwork. He had blond-brown hair, chopped short and spike erratically, with pale skin and hard sculpted features. Sam had seen vampires before, over many years, and none had affected him so. His breath caught and his blood thrummed, and he found himself wanting to know more about this stunning man. He read the name plate on the desk: Dean Cullen, Assistant Chief.

His continued assessment brought Dean's attention to him, and he berated himself for such a rookie move. Sam caught Dean's extraordinary gold-green gaze, falling under the allure of the vampire's wiles, something that hadn't happened since he turned twelve.

From that moment, even without having read Dean's character, Sam knew he was screwed.

I'll label him problem # 4. Sam thought, smiling at Dean somewhat dopily.

And problem # 3… Well, he never lets himself think about that one.

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