Note: I am portraying Dean and a regular emotional high school kid. It might seem a tad out of character, but based upon After School Special and how knee jerk he was, in regards to other people, I feel this is appropriate.
I hate the teacher's lounge. I hate it, I hate it, I. Hate. It. All we ever seem to do is tear each other and the kids down. Everyone has a problem with a kid, or several, or their classes aren't performing, or they can't figure out why no one can get the most complicated concept on the first try, because of course they should because they're teenagers not babies, so of course, we shouldn't have to teach them how to do it, they should just do it, poof! Like magic.
So, I especially detest the teacher's lounge at lunch, because EVERYONE is there, and EVEYRONE is unhappy about something. I eat in my classroom and do my best to keep away from the negativity, but today, like an idiot, I'd brought my lunch instead of bought and I needed to use the microwave. So I took a deep breath and opened the door and subjected myself to the mayhem.
"…the kid is an idiot. He doesn't know his ass from the ground does he Kelly?"
"It's not even that so much," Kelly started as she opened her no fat no sugar I've been trying to lose weight for half a century and can't yogurt. "He's a smart ass. He thinks that he's going to be able to get away with his charm and good looks for the rest of his life."
"I've got news for that kid, he ain't that pretty. He's going to need something floating around in his head if he's going to get anywhere in his life." Tilly said as she dug into her spinach salad, her attempt at eating healthy, but something told me that when she went home she ate like a friggin' horse. Could be because she's been on this diet for the entire time I've been working here and she's still heavy.
The door opened and closed and Jane entered, looking mad, and when she was mad, there was usually a kid that was close to a metaphysical bleed out, because she was sharp with her tongue in a way that a knife wasn't.
"What's the matter Jane?" Connie asked. I was so thankful then that the microwave opened up, and I put my meal inside and set it for the six minutes it called for.
"That little son of a bitch called me a bitch." I tried to keep my face neutral. I've called her a bitch many many times, just never to her face. Kinda gives the kid, whoever it is, brownie points in my head.
"Who?" Martha answered.
"Dean Winchester." I grew suspicious. Dean wasn't like that.
"That's who we were just talking about." Tilly supplied. "The kid is useless." A small seed of rage was planted deep inside my belly with that comment.
"Don't I know it!" Jane said as she went to the refrigerator and retrieved her lunch bag. "That little sob was disrupting my class—" Disrupting meant doing anything other than lightly breathing in her class, a lot of kids got in trouble for 'disrupting Mrs. Oliver's class'. That in itself didn't mean a great deal. "And then he argued. And I told him that this wasn't a democracy and that this was my class and you do not disrupt my class and if he was going to behave like that he could simply go to the office. He walked to the front of the room and looked at me and said 'you do know you are a bitch. Go get laid or something." I wanted to laugh. Everyone else in the room took the appropriate gasp, but I wanted to giggle. I had thought something similar.
"So, I sent him to the office, and I just got back. I'm going to get that boy expelled. He shouldn't be here in the first place. He is nothing but an uneducated, uncouth, unmannered….boy. And he reads at like a second grade level…."
"Sixth actually…" I spoke up. I couldn't let Dean be bashed. I liked the kid.
"Oh. Is he one of your pets Amy?" I felt the seed or rage begin to blossom.
"He is not one of my pets."
"But you like him?"
"I do. He's a good kid. He's smart." I heard several snorts.
"Yeah, maybe in a third world country." I stood straighter and glared at Jane.
"No. He's smart. He's a good kid. He tries…"
"Maybe for you…..He just screwed around in the rest of his classes."
"Whatever." I said as the microwave dinged. I turned, retrieved my meal.
"What's a shame is that his little brother is so sweet. Samantha has him in the sixth grade, and she says he's so smart and charming, and just a great kid. I always tell her be thankful you never had the brother."
I slammed the door before I could hear the rest of the conversation. Dean Winchester wasn't stupid. He just needed help.
***
Dean came to my class contrite. Jane had managed to get him into trouble, he would be in In School Suspension for the next three days. I had gotten word from the ISS teacher, she wanted his homework for the next several days.
The punishment seemed to weigh heavily on the normally charismatic youth. He was usually the one that would offer a funny comment or answer the question in a unique way that usually bread discussion and got my class jump started in the morning. I enjoyed having Dean in my class, enjoyed seeing him every day, and I even enjoyed spending hours after school teaching him how to read. The poor kid had missed so many fundamentals along the way that now at 14 years old he had a difficult time reading beyond the basics and had a difficult time expressing those thoughts on paper.
When he first got here, I thought that I should recommend him for special education, that maybe he was learning disabled and needed the help of a class for kids like him, but then, the day I was filing out the paper work for that recommendation, he came up to me, after school, no Freshman seeks out any teacher their freshman year, and asked me to help him learn to read. That sent me on a mission, I looked up his file saw the ridiculous number of schools he had attended and understood the problem. Dean simply needed help. He wasn't learning disabled, he wasn't anything but behind.
So, today, when Dean didn't say anything in class, didn't offer a pencil to Dylan two seats over when he expressed, loudly and without couth to the class that he needed a pencil, and didn't come to my desk first thing and ask me how I was doing, or offer me a smile, I knew something was wrong.
"Dean?" I called as the students were filing out of my room. He turned, and his eyes were cast down.
"Yeah Teach?"
"I'll see you at 3 right?"
He fidgeted for a second. "Naw. You go on home. I'm sure you got better things to do."
"But, Dean, that's my job. I brought doughnuts for us. Thought that would be a nice reward for all of your hard work."
He licked his lips, adjusted the book bag on his shoulders and shook his head. "Naw. I'm not going to waste your time any more. I'm just stupid." And with that he disappeared, and my heart broke. Last week, he learned how to read something new, was so proud of himself, and then…then…what happened?
***
The door opened and shut and I heard Sam chattering to Dean, telling him about a science test he'd aced, and the book they were reading in school. Dean was responding appropriately, and that caught me off guard. It was Monday, Dean usually stayed after school on Monday and his English teacher tutored him.
"Hey boys." I greeted. Sam enthusiastically greeted me and Dean bowed his head and started to head for the stairs. Something was wrong with the boy and I wish I knew what it was. Ever since he got here this time, he acted different. Didn't talk to me, and hid as often as he could, then there was the whole outburst the other night. I don't know what's going through his head.
"Dean?" I called. He turned.
"Yeah, I'm in In School Suspension for the rest of the week. I called a teacher a bitch." He said. Sam gasped. That wasn't exactly what I was aiming for, but damn if that isn't a way to start a conversation.
"Why did you call her a bitch Dean?" Dean shrugged. "Come on son, that's not an answer." He shuffled his feet and looked up at me.
"The teacher was being mean to the girl next to me. The girl is slow, and she asks dumb questions, but she really doesn't know, and the teacher was just being mean, the girl was just about ready to cry, so I got the attention onto me."
If that wasn't strangely noble, I don't know what is. I wonder how a parent handles that. "Well, it seems as if the figured out the punishment. Is that why you are home early?"
"No. I don't want to waste any more of my English teacher's time."
"Dean?"
"Look, I'm not smart, I know it, end of story, I don't need to be reminded every second of every freaking day. She doesn't need to be stuck with the loser that is Dean Winchester. I hear the whispers at school, I know what teachers think of me. I'm stupid but not that stupid." He seethed and headed upstairs.
"Wait just a minute there young man!"
Dean turned around, looked at me, I could have sworn tears were in his eyes and he said, softly and calmly. "You two are going to talk about books, books I can't read, so there isn't really a point for me to stay down there. If you need someone to help with hunting or cars, call me, otherwise I'll do my homework and go to bed. I'm not hungry anyway." He said and hurried up the stairs with a hunter's speed. The door slammed and Sammy jumped. I turned to the little Winchester and saw that he had tears in his eyes too. He looked at me and then wiped them away. Boy, when had Dean turned into a full fledged teenager?
"We have to tell him he's wrong." Sam said from beside me.
"I know we do Sam. I just don't know how to do it."
"He's not stupid."
"I know he's not son. I know." I grabbed the youngest one close to me and gave him an one armed hug, I wish that I could be huggin' the eldest too, I wish that all it took. "Go get that book, and sit with me until supper."
Sam shook his head in my side. "No. I'm not going to read those books anymore."
"Sammy, he didn't mean that. He doesn't mean that you shouldn't read those books."
"Makes him feel stupid. I won't do it. If it hurt my feelings, he wouldn't do it. He does everything for me."
"He loves you."
"He's my brother." Sam said mirroring the Winchester lack of affectionate talk. I'm going to go upstairs."
***
I opened the door to the room that Dean and I share, he was sitting on the floor by his bed, his text books spread out all around him, and he was trying to get the homework done.
"What do you want Sammy?"
"I just wanted to see if you wanted to play a game or something."
"Feelin' the need to whip my ass at something?"
"No."
"Well, you know all of the games here are ones that I'm no good at….."
"I thought we could play poker or go fish or something."
Dean looked up into my eyes, and he was sad, and he was trying to figure out why I was saying what I was saying.
"Forget it Sam. Go read with Bobby, talk about books with Bobby, hell just go spend time with Bobby."
"Why don't you come down with me?"
"Forget it Sam. Just go."
"Dean…"
"Go!" Dean shouted.
"You never used to be this grumpy when we went to Bobby's. You were always nicer, and happier. That's why I like to come here! I hate it when you are like this!"
"I hate it when you take everything away from me, but we all can't have what we want, oh wait, yeah you can. That's right! Because you're smart, you're nice, you're sweet, everyone likes Sam Winchester, it's his weird, stupid, hoodlum brother they can't stand. GO! Just get out!" Dean screamed, Dean never screams at me. It scared me. I turned and ran, out of the room and down the stairs, and I heard the door slam behind me. Dean was mad, mad at me, because he didn't think he could be smart like me.