Sam stood absolutely stock still and stared in horror at his brother.

"You did WHAT!"

"What did I say about staying calm Sammy?"

"You punched my English teacher, and you want me to stay calm? Have you gone insane Dean?!" Sam yelled.

"Would you keep your voice down!" Dean said in an angry whisper, "or had you forgotten we're standing in the middle of the school?" he added gesturing around vaguely.

"No but apparently YOU HAVE!"

Sam's voice was escalating in volume rapidly and Dean was starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

"Please tell me you had a good reason, please." Sam was putting the full on puppy dog eyes on Dean, that desperate, kicked puppy look been perfecting since he was a toddler.

"Of course I do! He…well…he…"

"What! For the love of God, spit it out!"

Wow, at thirteen Sam's seemed to have decided he should start unleashing some real bad attitude. Dean would have to nip this rebellion in the bud before the real problems started.

"He, he scraped the Impala." Dean said it was such gravity, he could have been announcing someone had died. "He left a mark on my car and he didn't even apologise!"

"You punched my English teacher…" Sam started but drifted off as if he couldn't quite believe what had happened.

"You should really calm down, it's not like I go to your school anyway, it's not like Dad has to find out…"

"DAD?!" Sam interrupted. "I couldn't care less what he thinks! I hope he gives you the worst punishment he can think of! He could have you clean the toilet with your for all I care!"

Ouch. Sam really was pissed, and their Dad really did have quite the penchant for cruel and unusual punishments. So for Sam to wish their Dad's worst on him was a really bad sign.

"Are you sure he even knows I'm you're my brother?"

"Well considering you attended my parent's meeting in place of our wonderful Dad, I should think so yeah! How did you not recognise him?!"

"I..." Okay he really had no excuse for that. Geez, Sam was doing a really good impression of their Dad, he was actually intimidating him. He was being intimidated by his freakin' younger brother! That was it.

"You know what Sam, back off! I'm not exactly havin' a great day here y'know! Just calm down, it's not like you hit him."

"I'm might as well have done." A somewhat deflated Sam said. "You had to go and punch my most vindictive teacher, didn't you? He gonna fail me now, just on principle."

Sam really did look actually devastated and whilst he couldn't really get what the big deal was, it was only school, he hated to see Sam so worried.

"Look, it'll be fine. I'll just go apologise to him and smoo…"

"Oh no! No way are you going anywhere near him!"

"Seriously, would you relax Samantha! I could charm my way into his pants if I had to. The ugly little car-scratching scrotum!"

"THAT is disgusting." It meant to come out angrily, but had somehow the hard edge had gone and you could hear the amusement in his voice. "Fine but if you make things worse, not only will I tell Dad about this, but I'll tell him about your little setting-the-wall-on-fire incident."

Sam was suitably pleased with look of horror on Dean's face. His brother had not been cooking when it happened, no; he was actually quite impressive on the food preparation front. He had been lighting aerosol cans, to see which would be most effective in the event of a zombie turning up unexpectedly. Then he would need to know which type was most effective, it was important to be prepared (and great fun obviously!)

Of course hadn't thought to do this outside, or away from the curtains. The damage he had caused had yet to register on the John Winchester radar. Sam had never been so grateful for a Dean Winchester screw-up in his life.

So Sam let Dean make an attempt at reconciliation. Dean could convince you night was day if he set his mind to it so Sam gave him a chance.

About ten minutes later he realised his gargantuan mistake. The sound of screaming erupted from the room Dean had just entered to make his grand apology. Sam didn't even want to know what was happening in there so he waited outside.

Dean strode out of the classroom looking furious.

"Don't. Say. ANYTHING." Dean ordered in that quiet but deadly tone.

Sam just sighed and followed his brother to the car for the ride home with metallica playing loud enough to perforate his ear drums.

They left about two days later, with a father who had miraculously noticed a great big patch of destruction on one wall along with a glaringly obvious lack of curtains. John had taken Dean out one night for him punishment. Sam never found out exactly what happened, but the look of mortification on Dean's face had said it all. John had probably dreamt up something twisted to teach his son a lesson, like making him sing a karaoke song by Cher at a packed bar or something equally horrifying, for John was nothing if not creative.

And that is how Sam ended up with his one and only B of his entire academic career.