I wrote a new fic, it's weechesters not so wee, but wee enough to still be weechesters. Sam's 10, Dean's 14, Sam has some serious trouble with a new schoolmate and it turns into the meeting from hell for the Winchesters in small town Oregon.
I am proud to call myself a Limp Sammy fan, so for all you limp Sam girls especially Faye and Gemini...enjoy...and prepare for a bit of an angsty ride.
And The Nightmare Begins As The Devil Rides Out
Contrary to popular belief Sam Winchester and the Demon that killed his mother and Jess have met many times before. Sam tries not to think about that, and Dean doesn't know about them all, but the demon does, the demon knows about every one and it never ever forgets.
"Be back here by 3.30 runt or I swear to god I'll come right on into your class and ask for my little baby brother, see what kind of first impression you make then huh?"
Sam scowled furiously up at his older brother under his mop of unruly curls and wondered for the ten millionth time what he might have done in a past life to deserve Dean as his big brother. "I got it already Dean." He flounced, pulling his hand from his older brothers.
This walking to school together routine was really getting old now and Sam bristled at the constant babying his Dad and Dean insisted on lording over him. God it was like he was a little baby or something, he was totally old enough to walk to school on his own now, he turned ten a few months back and his Dad and Dean still treated him like the baby they'd raised.
"Just as long as you got it then Sammy." Dean smirked leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest in that amused, superior older brother way that infuriated Sam to no end.
"Shouldn't you be getting to your own class now?" Sam whined shifting from foot to foot and adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he peered up at the fourteen year old.
"You know the drill Sam, to the door."
Sam sniffed self-righteously and turned on his heel, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks as Dean watched him go.
It was a ritual they'd had since Sam started school, Dean walked him and made sure he got there ok, didn't matter where, or when, or apparently how old he was either, it was a John Winchester order and one that was never disobeyed. But it was getting silly. Sam turned on his heel and looked back as he neared the doorway to his new school. It was silly and embarrassing that he still needed his big brother to take him, but he couldn't help the slight feeling of reassurance as he peered back and Dean offered him a brief thumbs up before Sam walked through the heavy door and it swung shut behind him.
It was dark and rainy when they arrived in Oregon the day before and Sam had been especially stroppy and exhausted after a four hour drive from their previous base in Seattle. He hadn't wanted to go. They'd been there for four months and Sam had really felt at home at Highland Park, he had some good friends and had even had a crush on Stacey in his class. But as was the way with things in his family, as soon as Sam began to feel comfortable in a place his Dad had found some other job someplace else. This time in Willamette, Oregon and the Winchester family had been in the car and on the road the next day. His dad suspected a werewolf for the five missing campers from the Oregon woods.
Sam didn't give a crap. All he knew was once more his life was uprooted, his friends gone, he wasn't even allowed to say goodbye before they left.
"These are people's lives Sammy, that's more important than saying goodbye to a bunch of kids you're not going to see again kiddo."
God how Sam had hated his father in that moment.
He just didn't understand. Could never understand the feeling, the horrible feeling of being the new kid yet again, of having to struggle to find a place in a new school, of sometimes being picked on, of being stared at and called a freak. Of finally finding a group of people to call friends only to be wrenched from them again, back where you started. Back at the beginning again.
Sam's dad didn't understand, and neither did Dean, for all he pretended he knew how Sam felt, he never let himself get close to anyone the way Sam did, he had acquaintances, and girls, but no one he'd ever want to remember or keep in touch with. No that was Sam's burden to bear and once again he found himself missing Tom and Riley and Stacey. It wasn't fair.
He peered up through his bangs as he came to a stop before a closed classroom door. "Yes."
A woman peered down at him dressed in a floral shirt and khaki pants, she stretched her hand out and bent down slightly. "Hi Sammy, I'm Mrs Jacobs, I'm your teacher you want to come in?"
Sam took her hand cautiously and blushed a little shyly. Women always had that effect on him. He never could get the way Dean so easily smirked and kissed and interacted with them. Sam wondered if maybe it was cause he never had a mother that he didn't know how to act around them, being raised by two guys like his Dad and Dean didn't leave much room for feminine touches and Sam's contact with women was pretty minimal.
Mrs Jacobs led Sam into the room which was filled with lots of other kids his age. They were loud and giggly and Sam felt very much the odd one out. Once again he was the outsider, he sat down in a desk towards the back and got out his notebook and pen, his dad's teeth marks still in the end of his only biro.
"Alright class listen up, we have a new pupil joining us today, so I'd like you to all say hi to Sammy for me. Raise your hand for us Sammy."
Sam winced and tried to disappear into his chair, his legs bumping against the underside of his desk. This was the part he hated. He slowly raised a hand as all eyes turned to him and squinted obviously.
"Hi Sammy." The class parroted and suddenly Sam was sick of the nickname. It was a baby name, he wasn't a baby anymore he was ten for goodness sake.
"It's just Sam." He muttered and Mrs Jacobs merely offered a condescending little smile and turned back to the register.
Sam shuffled low in his seat as the class peered and pointed at him and prayed for recess.
When the bell rang for break Sam shot up as if there was a hellhound on his tale and hightailed it out of the classroom. He wished not for the first time that Dean was still in Middle school with him, he hated that they had separate schools now. Dean was big enough for High School and Sam was stuck in stupid Middle School. It sucked.
Sam frowned furiously as he kicked a pebble hard across the playground. What was the bet Dean was hanging around the cheerleaders already, bragging about whatever fake life he'd chosen for himself this time round. Suddenly Sam hated his brother. Everything came so easily to Dean, always had. He oozed a confidence that Sam never could emulate and he always got away with things. But then he thought of their last hunt and a wave of revulsion overcame him swiftly. Dean had pushed him down, saved his ass yet again. Dean was his big brother and Sam loved him more than just about anything in the world, except for cheetos, boy did Sam love cheetos. Feeling bad for thinking mean thoughts about his brother he quickly sent up a prayer that Dean was having more fun than he was and continued out into the playground.
All around him children were playing, some on the climbing frames, some on a giant hopscotch board, some were kicking a ball around and others were playing tag. Sam stood silently peering at them all with a yearning deep inside of him. God he wanted to belong. When he was younger he'd found it much easier, he'd been loud, precocious, he'd waltzed up to other kids without a care in the world, "I'm Sammy Winchester, would you like to be my friend." But that was starting to change, the last few years Sam had started to lose that, his heart was tired of getting bruised, every time he made friends they'd just have to go away again. What was the point, why even bother?
He tried doing what Dean did sometimes, but it just never worked for Sam, he couldn't just be acquaintances with someone, he always cared just that little bit too much.
Standing now on his own by the bleachers, he made his way up onto the stands and sat down, reaching into his hand me down duffle bag and pulling out a copy of Lord Of The Rings.
Frodo had just left the shire when he heard a loud voice behind him.
Sam's head shot up and he turned abruptly to see a group of three boys standing on the bleachers. Immediately he tensed and watched them as his Dad had taught him to eye a threat. "Yeah?"
"Where'd you get your clothes, Goodwill?" The blonde boy at the front sneered cruelly as he took a step towards Sam up the bleachers.
Sam swallowed back the lump in his throat. "Yes, actually."
The boys laughed like Sam had made the funniest joke in the world. "We saw you holding that boys hand earlier Sammy." The blonde sneered his name, "what a baby."
Sam calmly lowered his book. "I'm not a baby." He told them sternly, "I'm ten."
"Ten year olds don't have to get walked to school."
Sam sighed deeply annoyed, they were right, but it still hurt. "What do you want?"
"Oooh what's the matter Sammy are you going to cry?"
"It's whatever we want it to be Sammy."
Sam snorted, "no actually it's still Sam."
The blonde boy's smile faded and he stepped further forward his buddies moving with him. "Looks like the new boy thinks he's smarter than us."
"Look" Sam muttered "Just leave me alone, I'm just reading my book, I don't want to get in any trouble."
The boys laughed and the shorter one behind the blonde mimicked Sam's voice. "I don't wanna get in trouble."
"Why don't you just run home to your mommy Sammy." The blonde smirked cruelly.
Sam was up off the bleachers in a flash and shoving the boy hard bringing him to the ground swiftly. "Shut up."
The boys jumped back startled and the blonde kid stared up at him from the ground in obvious shock. After a moment he pulled himself up and glared furiously, "you've done it now Sammy. You're going to pay for that."
He pulled on the other boys arms and they walked away, stealing vicious glances back at him as they went.
Sam sighed and slumped to the bench once more. Great. Why the hell couldn't things ever just be easy for him, why did he have to get into trouble already on day one. Why did those guys even have to pick on him in the first place. So what if his clothes were a little ratty, they couldn't afford designer stuff, and so what if his brother walked him to school each day, it didn't make it right for them to pick on him.
Sam's lower lip wobbled dangerously as he raised his book once more and willed himself to keep it together, it wouldn't make him less of a target if anyone saw him crying that was for sure.
"Ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of poses…"
The voice comes so close and so suddenly next to Sam's ear that he drops his book and it falls through the bleachers onto the cold grass as he swings around on his butt.
A boy sits next to him, dressed in some high brown shorts and a white shirt. His hair hangs into his eyes and he stares into the distance, eyes squinting a gap between his teeth.
Sam already on edge from before bristles once more, god can't they just leave him alone for a minute. "What do you want?"
The boy's head whirls furiously and his mouth drops open in shock. "I…what…" he stammers, "you're talking to me?"
"Well you just practically sang right in my ear, figured you might of wanted something." Sam mutters.
The boy's mouth just opens and closes like a fish.
Sam turns back to his book.
Finally he feels a tug on his arm. "Hi I'm Timmy" the boy offers smiling and tilting his head to one side.
Sam watches him cautiously waiting for a taunt or barb. When none comes he nods tentatively. "Sam."
"Yeah," Sam offers back surprised this kid's talking to him. "Just arrived here yesterday."
Timmy nods back, "I've lived here all my life."
"How old are you?"
"Eleven. How old are you?"
Timmy's eyes light up as he sees what Sam's reading and he inches closer. "Oh man…Lord of The Rings? Can you read that out loud to me."
Sam wrinkles his nose up a little, but it's good to talk to someone who's not picking on him and he really wants a new friend. "Ok."
Sam and Timmy sit together for most of recess, Sam reading the book aloud and Timmy sitting in silence peering intently at the words as Sam traces them with his thumb like Dean taught him to. When the bell rings Sam gets to his feet abruptly.
"Hey I'm sorry I was kind of mean earlier Timmy I thought you might have been one of those guys that picked on me before."
Timmy's eyes suddenly narrow and he turns to stare out across the playground. "Those boys aren't my friends, those boys are cruel Sam, and they need to be taught a lesson."
Sam nods, agreeing.
"They can't play with fire and not get burned." Timmy finally whispers, eyes turning back to Sam.
Sam spins in his seat, ok that was a weird comment. "Do they pick on you too?"
"They shouldn't be allowed to get away with it."
"We could tell Mrs Jacobs" Sam offers, "if they keep doing it. She'd probably talk to them."
Timmy leans back then his eyes darkening further. "She never does anything about it. They never do."
The wind picks up then and Sam's about to ask what he means but a whistle blows and Mrs Jacobs shouts over at him "Sammy Winchester, come on. Back to class."
Sam shuffles to his feet and looks back to say goodbye, but Timmy's gone, the bleachers are empty again and the pages of his book blow shut in his wake.
At 3.15 Sam looks at the clock with a wistful sigh, just 15 minutes to go and he's itching to get out of there. Funny he'd always loved school really, the learning part anyway, learning new things and facts that could allow him to help Dad and Dean on a hunt, or just help him to read and write. It fascinated him. But first days were always difficult and he wondered again how Dean was handling his own.
He felt eyes boring into the back of his neck and turned to catch a death glare from Andrew Scott aka blonde bully. Sam hadn't realised the butthead was in his class but as soon as recess was over he'd been furiously eyeballed and he'd quickly noticed by who.
Sam glared back, a warning of his own. He wasn't afraid of that kid, he'd faced werewolves, and ghosts and poltergeists and demons; he knew how to defend himself. But he didn't want to have to. Didn't want a reputation as a thug on his first day. That wasn't who he was.
Mrs Jacobs began warbling on about the Aztecs and Sam surreptitiously peered closer at his notebook open in front of him, partially covered by a History textbook. "5 victims" "forest" "disappeared" "every full moon" it sure sounded like a werewolf to Sam. He chewed on his pen thoughtfully and brought the tip down to his notings, "werewolf" he added with a question mark, "black dog", he penned in beneath it. And for a final measure he added "windego". He decided to ask his father about the third creature later, sometimes his Dad missed things that Sam picked up on and he loved the proud look in his father's eye when he actually helped him with research. But none of the victims had been found this time, so they had no body conditions to go on to help them track this thing. Dad was trying to work on the connections between the victims today while he and Dean were at school. Sam cautiously turned the notepad over fingering the 'Sam Winchester's Journal' written on the front in black lettering. He hadn't shown his father or Dean his journal. He figured he'd probably get scolded and laughed at respectively and he didn't need or want either. It was just for him, to help them out and maybe someday he could solve a hunt on his own or something.
A hand grasped his wrist as he trailed the final r of his name and he gasped loudly eliciting a glance his way from Mrs Jacobs. "Problem Sammy?"
Sam paused wondering briefly why she wasn't questioning both boys.
"Uh…no Mrs Jacobs." He stammered turning to look at Timmy when she turned back to the board. "What are you doing here?" He whispered as the rest of the class began to get their books out and chatter animatedly about Aztec clothing. "You're not in my class are you Timmy?"
Timmy smiled and perched on the edge of Sam's desk nonchalantly. "I'm in whatever class I want to be Sam."
"Hey Winchester? You like talking to nothing?"
Sam turned back and narrowed his eyes at Andrew who was smirking cruelly in Timmy's direction.
"You know what Andrew why don't you just shut up, you're a jerk. He's a person, no one deserves to be called nothing around here except you."
Andrew's mouth dropped open. "Who's a person Winchester?"
"Sam just leave it." Timmy said almost playfully. "He'll learn his lesson."
Sam turned back in his seat and huffed out a breath ignoring Andrew until he felt something hit the back of his shoulder, he watched the paper ball roll across the ground and was about to turn and say something when he paused mid-spin and his heart dropped in his chest.
Another paper ball had just travelled through the air and sailed in Timmy's direction, but it hadn't stopped at all, it went straight through him. Like he wasn't even there.
Sam's mouth hung open and he could do nothing but stare as the paper carried on through the air not even registering the person that should have stopped it dead.
"Timmy…" the name was no more than a whisper as the hairs stood on end on the back of Sam's arms and he gaped at his friend.
Timmy had seen what Sam had seen and he didn't seem fazed at all. He looked up from the edge of Sam's desk and smiled raising a finger to his lips, "shhhh."
Sam watched in morbid fascination as his friend got to his feet and walked to the front of the classroom stepping up to Mrs Jacob's desk and hurling his arm across it. In a flash the rulers and pen pots crashed to the ground and Mrs Jacobs jumped startled.
She placed a hand over her heart and managed a jumpy "oh" before hurrying to pick them up from the floor.
Timmy turned around then and walked up to her standing watching her pick up the pens from the floor. Nobody acknowledged him, and for the first time Sam looked around and realised that nobody was watching or noticing or seeing him. It was just Sam.
Just his luck.
His only friend and it had to be a ghost. Dean would never let him live this one down. Unless he didn't tell Dean. Sam sighed and ran a weary hand over his face as Timmy continued to watch Mrs Jacobs.
When she stood up slowly, he walked forward and turned to Sam again. "They never did anything Sam. They never do."
Sam shook his head not understanding.
"They deserve to be punished."
With that Timmy stepped forward and placed a hand upon the teacher's head grinning playfully Sam's way, it was only when he reared back that Sam started to get frightened.
Mrs Jacobs made a sharp gasping noise and staggered backwards suddenly, the class were still entertaining themselves noisily and Sam stiffened automatically in his seat.
Suddenly her head flung back and she began flailing, grasping at her throat.
"Oh.god." She managed and this time a few heads turned in her direction.
Sam watched the drama unfold with an icy feeling in the bottom of his stomach. His teacher began clawing at her throat as blood slowly started to drip from her eyes and ears and mouth. Sam quickly got to his feet and rushed towards the desk.
"Timmy, Timmy stop it please."
Timmy turned his back to him and simply walked to the board calmly.
Mrs Jacobs was writhing now her face almost unrecognisable beneath the blood, her eyes staring unseeing at some frozen horror.
"Ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of poses…" Timmy sang in quiet melodic tune.
"Timmy." Sam tried, truly frightened now and a few feet away from Mrs Jacobs. What should he do? He wanted Dean, he wanted his Dad.
"She needs to be punished Sam…a tissue, a tissue, we all fall down."
Sam shook his head. "Why, why Timmy? She hasn't done anything."
"Exactly Sam, exactly. She never did a thing."
Some of the class were shouting now and Sam realised with a start that the rest of his class were starting to panic at the state of their teacher who was writhing on the desk. Even Andrew had his mouth hanging open in shock. Sam turned to the girl next to him as Timmy continued to hum, his back to Sam as he picked up a piece of chalk and began scribbling.
"Sally, go get somebody quick, tell them to call an ambulance." Sam shouted, immediately switching into his survival skills his father had drilled into him and Dean from a young age.
He moved to crouch next to Mrs Jacobs but flinched as he felt a buzz of electricity warn him back.
"Leave her Sam." Timmy whispered back, still facing the board, chalk in hand, dreadful humming nursery rhyme repeating.
"Timmy, why are you doing this?" Sam tried again, "I can help, just stop doing that to her…please."
"A tissue, a tissue we all fall down."
Sam felt a whoosh of heat and he fell backwards onto his butt as flames suddenly erupted from the woman's chest before him, a wordless scream echoed in her throat as the fire engulfed her and the class screamed in horror, crying and shaking as she burned before them.
Timmy stilled, stepping back from the board as he surveyed the nursery rhyme now covering the board "humpty dumpty sat on the wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall", Sam barely noted in abstract terror the same two lines repeated over the entire board, his eyes desperately trying to ignore the burning body before him.
There was a horrible feeling of calm then in the room as Timmy turned around and faced Sam smiling like he'd just won a spelling bee, not burned his teacher from the inside out. His eyes though, his eyes when they stared back at his new friend, they were completely black.
"Do you think your mother felt like that Sam?" Timmy asked, voice distorted and manic smile still in place. "Do you think she felt like that when she burned for you?"
At Sam's slack jaw Timmy flew across the room in the blink of an eye and was under Sam's skin in a second.
That's when Sam started screaming.
Dean shoved the door to the High School open with a careless ease as he breathed a sigh of relief and waltzed into the playground. Thank god that was over. Man he hated school. Really, honest to god didn't get the point. How could learning algebra or how to boil an egg help you defeat a Wendigo, or vanquish a demon? Answer, it couldn't. Therefore it was pointless. Why his Dad continued to force him to go was beyond Dean, but when he turned 16 he was so outta here. Hunting with his Dad, it sounded like a dream. Side by side, maybe with Sammy too when he was old enough, watching each others backs, a family, the way he'd always wanted it to be.
He grinned at the thought of his geek brother and he felt a fond tightening in his chest. He wondered how the little dork's first day went. For all he whined and moaned he knew Sam desperately wanted to fit in, in a way Dean would never be able to understand. All Dean needed in his life was his Dad, his brother and a stupid Demon he could blow away when he needed to let off steam, he sighed as he caught sight of head cheerleader Dusty Anderson, alright and maybe a few women too along the way. Sammy however was an entirely different kettle of fish. How they were even related seemed a mystery to them both.
Sam needed people, he was never satisfied with just Dean and his Dad, he needed friends, and a network, and it forever surprised Dean just how desperately he went after that. Why couldn't Sam just be happy with what he had? Dean was. John was. How had they, together, raised a kid that wanted so many different things to them? Dean sighed but then pictured Sam's floppy mess of hair that was forever in his eyes and that little line in his forhead he got when he was going to ask a question he considered important, or the way he ran with reckless abandon and hugged Dean if he and Dad went on a hunt without him and then tried to wriggle back and act too old for all that even though at ten he was perfectly within his rights.
God he loved that little boy, needed him more than breathing. Sam was a one off, he was a dreaming, adorable, precocious, moody little one off but Dean wouldn't swap him for anything.
Speaking of…Dean frowned in confusion as he noticed a crowd of people running to and away from the Middle school. Naturally suspicious Dean increased his pace to an almost run and drew to a stop as he heard the approaching sirens.
Nerves tightening he watched a fire engine scream passed and his jog turned into an all out sprint.
By the time he reached the school, his lungs were burning, and he froze in horror at the sight before him. The school didn't appear to be ablaze but from beneath the window Dean knew led to Sam's classroom, fiery tendrils licked from the frame and smoke billowed beneath the school door.
Dean dropped his backpack in sick terror and ran straight for the flames, determined to pull his brother from the fire for the second time this lifetime.
Next time on ATNBATDRO...
A fire. Sam. It had finally happened, his worst nightmare, the thing had returned. And this time it was taking Sam.
It had finally happened, his worst nightmare, the thing had returned. And this time it was taking Sam.
He moved like a drowning man, even though thinking back on it it was probably the fastest he'd ever moved in his whole life, he felt like everything was too slow, like his limbs were wading through water, like every second his brother was dying.