Faltered Chapter 9

Dean seemed to limp slowly behind Sammy everyday as they head back to Pastor Jim's house after school, Sammy was always hurrying along talking excitedly over his shoulder to his less than enthusiastic brother.

It had only taken a day or two for Mrs. Ellen to realize that Sammy was the one of the brightest young students in the class and she began to assign him extra work that he accepted gratefully and loved to work on afterschool.

The lessons did not come as easily to Dean and he had not taken to school so well as Sammy had.

If it wasn't for Sammy, Dean would have quit school and probably left Lawrence to find his Pop.

School made him uncomfortable. There were too many other children and too many questions. He didn't like being focused on.

He was still tense about his experience with the all student spelling bee. Mrs. Ellen had not paid his apprehension any attention. She insisted that Dean participate with the rest of the children.

So Dean stood in line and waited his turn. He shook like a leaf he didn't want to be put on the spot. Sammy had stood in line behind him and tried to be encouraging. It had been Dean's turn and he stepped up for his word his heart ready to pound through his chest.

He was given soldier. He went to the chalk board like Mrs. Ellen had instructed him and in small faint shaky letters wrote S O L I D E R.

When Mrs. Ellen told him the word was incorrect he was mortified and when she told him to sit down he was utterly relieved.

He knew how to spell soldier and Dean knew that Sam knew he knew how to spell soldier the disappointment on his face made that clear.

Sammy liked school he was doing well and making friends. Dean sort of stood in Sam's shadow and tried to make it through the school day.

The other children had started picking on Dean as soon as he and Sammy started their first day.

They didn't like anyone that was different than them. Dean didn't even try to fit in and there didn't seem to be anything Sam could say or do to make the children change their mind.

Dean was a mystery to them. The other students had lived their whole lives in Lawrence.

They had heard stories of the Winchesters, who didn't come into town and didn't attend church. There were stories that the boy with a limp had been seen tracking animals in the woods like a little Indian scouts. It was said the father killed the mother and he could disappeared like a ghost when your back was turned.

Dean was the embodiment of the stories. Some of the children were scared of him, others found him a threat.

They picked up quickly on the fact that he wouldn't speak, no matter what they said or did to him he stayed silent. Sam had explained that it was on account of the fire that he couldn't but still the children called him a freak.

Then they picked on him because he didn't have to memorize and recite like the rest of them did in reading class. There were just certain things that Mrs. Ellen didn't even attempt to make Dean do. There was obviously no way he was going to stand up in class and recite anything. What the other children didn't see or didn't care about was that Dean was making up for it by writing what he'd memorized out.

It didn't matter in their eyes because he was still different.

Children could be cruel. Sam and Dean did not have much experience with children their own age, but they learned this lesson quick. Dean was a favorite target.

Sam swore after a while it was becoming a game with some of the nastier children to try and trip Dean up. Bella placed her basket and books on the floor next to her desk as Dean was walking by. Gordon liked to step on the back of Dean's heels and the Bender boy hit Dean in the shoulder whenever he past him.

They called him slow, gimpy, a tomnoddy.

Dean did nothing in his own defense.

It all infuriated Sam. The outcome was the last thing Dean wanted, it alienated of both of them.

Sammy tried to encourage Dean to be normal. He had a couple of times asked Dean to sit up and pay attention in class instead of staring off into space. He'd tried to get Dean to play trap ball with some of the other kids but Dean wouldn't play. He'd pleaded with Dean to try and not embarrass him.

Dean was hurt. Sammy was ready to not be a soldier with him anymore.

Jim was excited that Samuel was doing so well in school. He'd always known that the boy would succeed in an academic setting.

But Jim saw every Sunday after church what a toll Dean's attending school was having on both of the brothers. Dean often followed Sam and after church when the children all went out to play. Dean always tagged along. Sam had made some friends who he liked to play ball with. Dean never played with them he always stood by and watched, like he was Sam's guardian ever wary in a strangely unfocused way.

Jim knew Dean had taken this role on when both of the boys were very small.

He noticed more and more though that Sam was keeping an eye on Dean. This had never been the way it was; Samuel had always been carefree when Dean was around. Now Samuel seemed preoccupied with worrying about his brother.

Jim wondered who would be hurt by this in the long run.

One day both boys got home from school in a state of shambles. Sam had blood on his lip and Dean's cheek was bruised.

Jim inquired what had happened. The most he got from an angry Sammy and a silent Dean as he interrogated them was that there had been a fight after school. He never found out what the fight was about but he had his suspicions.

All the scuffles the boys seemed to get into seemed to be because of Dean.

The boys were sent to bed without dinner as punishment.

Jim prayed that night that things would get easier for the boys like he prayed every night. His prayer always ended with "Please Lord give these boys a place and home in the world where they both can thrive and be champions for your light and goodness Amen."

Late this particular night when the boys had been sent to bed early Jim heard a strange noise coming from the boy's room. It was dark but not so dark that Jim couldn't see when he opened the door. Samuel was clearly asleep on the bed but Dean was seated on an old wooden chair near the window.

Jim watched as the boy made strange faces in the glass.

Jim shivered as it reminded him of something he seen many years ago another child's face distorted strangely.

Shaking himself he came to realize that Dean was not making faces at the glass but trying to form words with his mouth.

Jim had never thought he see the day when Dean Winchester spoke but there the boy was making a go of it.

"Dean?" Jim asked softly through the darkness. Dean jumped and turned in Jim's direction as he did Jim could make out the wetness of his eyes in the moonlight.

"Dean come with me."

Jim discovered while he sat with Dean downstairs that whatever had happened during the day presumably what had caused the fight had so upset Dean that the boy seemed to be bound and determined to do whatever he could to correct it. If Sammy wanted normal Dean would do his best to give it to him.

"Dean can you talk?" Jim asked sincerely. Dean didn't look at him but shrugged his shoulders.

"You don't know…" Jim thought for a moment Dean had spoken just after the fire so it stood to reason that he hadn't lost the capacity in the fire. But since then Dean hadn't made a sound and Jim thought that if Dean hadn't used his voice he might have lost it all together.

"Can you make any sound?" Jim watched as dean opened his mouth and nothing came out. "You're not doing it right. You don't just open your mouth you have to make the sound."

Jim sat with Dean for the next two hours trying to get the boy to make a sound. Finally they were both exhausted. Jim sent the boy to bed and then added further to his prayer for the Winchesters. "Lord may you watch after them and protect them always on this rough road they walk."

Every couple of nights for the next month Dean tried in the dark to talk. Eventually he found his voice. It was weak and rough but it was there.

Dean knew it would make everything better.

TBC…