A/N: Well hello! Hope everyone's super!
Here's a nice little Two-Shot about my fave. Winchester and well i don;t really know what i was trying to prove with this, but it was fun. And that's all that matters!
Disclaimer:I own them, and they say hi...lol...thanks to the WB...Mr. Moore and Ms. Ives are mine. So is the school. If there's really a school Grand View High, than I'm sorry...and if you ever see the boys there don't hestitate to call me...just a little humor after a long day.
John Winchester walked through the halls of Grand View High. It reminded him so much of his own high school back in Kansas. He almost smiled at the memory until a beautiful blond girl passed by him. His mind s witched back to Mary, his high school sweetheart. Thinking of Mary nowadays made him remember the fire and want to hunt. Hunting was what he should be doing now, John thought as he turned towards the principal's office.
Sitting outside the room was his son. The sixteen year old was staring up to the ceiling , his eyes worlds away. But as John reached him, he stirred. The young hunter's trained ear had not missed the approaching footsteps. As John went to sit beside his son, the door opened and the principal, Mr. Moore, along with the school psychiatrist, Ms. Ives, called them in.
"Mr. Winchester, I know your time is valuable and," Ms. Ives continued from her standing position beside the desk. She looked directly at the young man. "I have been reminded of your child's ripe age and ability to care for himself. But do you happen to know of his current whereabouts throughout this past week?"
The young man sighed. What did they expect would come out of this? His father wasn't going to hit him or ground him or yell at him. None of this mattered.
"I'm guessing, that he wasn't here then," John replied. Why couldn't shrinks just up and say what the meant?
"No, Mr. Winchester, your son choose not to attend this week. After three days, and with no parental explanation, we tend to worry about our students."
The young man shifted lower into his seat, Get on with the damn program already!
"Dean," Ms. Ives turned on him now. Her eyes full of questions, his full of hate. "Would you care to tell your father, since you wouldn't tell us, where you've been for four days?"
"Not really," Dean said. He knew his father wouldn't mind his missing school, but he didn't want him to know what he'd been doing. Especially since John had told him he was too young.
"Mr. Winchester," Mr. Moore finally piped in. He was a tall man, like John and he straightened himself behind his desk as if readying to make a speech. "You understand our concern, yes? Your son has only been in our system for two months. He had decent transcript grades and testing scores. We assumed that it was perhaps his lack of knowledge in our own system for his grade desertion. But going from an A to a D in history is not at all that common. We had tried to previously talk with you regarding this matter, until this happened."
"Dean," Ms. Ives continued looking at the melting bored figure. No response came. "Dean, we all understand a move can be hard but you need to let us help you."
To the thought of them helping him, or maybe it was the thought that after 12 tears of constantly moving- now he'd have trouble- Dean laughed.
John wasn't as amused. In the first place, he did have a job to do - even if it wasn't a conventional one. Secondly, and what angered him the most, was that Dean had been lying to him. Everyday this month John Winchester had arrived home in time to see his sons, fix them dinner and assure himself they were safely sleeping. Everyday, he'd ask them about their day. Sammy was always the first to pipe up- telling about everything he'd learned and whatever funny thing a kid did or how Dean had said okay to driving him and a friend to the movies or to the park. Dean was different, Dean's days were always, "Fine" or "Failed a test, aced another" - nothing about not going. Heck, he didn't mind his eldest playing hooky. He'd be worried if it'd been Sammy, but being lied to he didn't take so lightly.
"Dean," John turned on his son. The grin the boy had worn before now disappeared as the sixteen year old hung his head down. "Do you mind telling me where you've been?"
Dean started shaking his leg. He'd had this conversation with Ms. Ives. She'd asked him that a million times but each time he had come up with a sarcastic answer. I was here, all along or after her ten minute speech of teen drug issues he'd sighed and said Yep, been drugged and so high that I lost my way here. But if he even thought about replying like that to his father, well he'd wish he'd been on drugs.