Thank you once again to Soar for agreeing to beta this for me, and to Soar, JuliaAurelia, and Sinead-Conlan for all their help and suggestions.
Disclaimer: Still don't own.
Summary: Sam convinces Dean to take a job at Camp Sunshine, a summer camp for kids with diabetes. While trying to take care of a spirit that is causing accidents and hurting campers, Dean must deal with a familiar problem and runs into an old friend.
A/N: This story is set in early first season, after Phantom Traveler and before Skin. It's my guess that anyone taking a job working around children is going to be subject to a very strict background check, so it's better that Dean is not a wanted, legally dead, serial killer, even if he is going by an alias.
A/N 2: This story is a sequel to Westcott Preparatory Academy. You should be able to follow this, though, even if you have not read Westcott. The basic story line for the other story was that at age 16, Dean was diagnosed with diabetes. The Winchesters stay with Bobby for a while, and John eventually gets a job to meet Dean's medical needs. It takes place over the course of one year, and explores the Winchesters actually getting to experience a normal life.
Here is a brief description of some of the important characters and events:
Westcott Preparatory Academy- A private school that John gets a job at. As an employee, it allows John to send the boys there, tuition free.
Grayson Remington- Attended school with Dean and they became best friends.
Dante- The character I wished Bela turned out to be. He is a very shady and dangerous character who buys and sells supernatural objects.
Dean's amulet- Westcott was written before A Very Supernatural Christmas, and in my story, Dean's amulet was given to him by Bobby. The amulet is a very powerful supernatural object. The legend I created for it is that it makes the wearer immune to any natural disease. So as long as Dean wears it, he is symptom free from his diabetes, but if he takes it off or loses it, his illness will come back.
Okay is there anyone still reading? If you are, here's the chapter.
It was a picture perfect day. The sun was just setting behind the trees, casting a shadow over the lake. The lake itself was perfectly still, not a ripple or a wave anywhere, as if it too were settling down for the night.
It was the time that Reggie Sanders loved best. So after completing his day's tasks, he couldn't help but take a stroll down by the lake. When he arrived, he immediately took off his shoes and socks and waded a few feet from shore. Even the water was the perfect temperature. He couldn't help but think it was the perfect end to a perfect day.
Reggie couldn't believe his luck. He didn't think his life could get any better. He was graduating college, had been accepted to the medical school of his choice, he really enjoyed working with children and intended to specialize in paediatrics. The fact that he had landed a summer job, not only as a camp counsellor, as the outdoors was another of his favourite places, but it was working with kids with diabetes, so it would look great on a resume.
Reggie loved the idea behind Camp Sunshine. It allowed children with diabetes to spend time with other kids like themselves, and gave them a chance to just be kids.
It was located in a wooded area in western Maine. It ran for eight weeks during the summer, and there were four groups of kids that attended for two weeks at a time, in order to let as many kids as possible enjoy the experience.
Things weren't all fun and games though.
Last year, one of campers broke her leg in a bizarre accident, and another counsellor, who was an Olympic swimmer, had almost drowned in a calm lake. He had been saved, but had suffered brain damage and would never be the same again.
Reggie was startled out of his thoughts by a noise coming from behind the boat house, and he decided to go see what it was.
He was never seen again.
Dr. Grayson Remington walked down the dirt path toward the administration cabin, grumbling to himself the whole way.
The first group of campers were due to arrive later that day, and the young doctor felt that his talents would be better appreciated in the medical cabin, helping to organize things for the kids. He disliked a lot of this administrative crap. Of all the days for the camp director to decide to take off, why did it have to be this one? Okay, granted, the man's daughter was getting married, so he did have an excuse, but damn it, why did it have to be today? Couldn't she have postponed the wedding by one stupid day?
Get a grip, the young physician told himself. He was happy for his friend's daughter, but he just wanted this season to be perfect. He got to the main cabin and fingered his own wedding ring. He wouldn't have put off marrying his own wife for another day, either. He greeted Sherry, the receptionist, and let himself into the office.
Dr. Patrick Rafferty was the director of Camp Sunshine. He had been Gray's anatomy and physiology teacher in his first year of medical school. Patrick was a paediatric endocrinologist working with children that had diabetes, and the elder physician had become Gray's mentor, as that was what Gray had been planning to specialize in.
When Gray had been in his final year of medical school, Patrick had told him about Camp Sunshine, a summer camp for children with diabetes, and asked him if he would like a summer job. Gray had eagerly agreed to a job as a counsellor and he had loved every minute of it, watching the kids get a chance to be kids and interact with other kids who were just like them. He saw how much good the camp did.
After he had graduated, he had moved from being a counsellor, to working as a doctor in the medical cabin, and last year, Patrick had begun teaching Gray some of the administrative duties required to run the camp. He had said that he'd wanted the young man to take over from him when he retired. Gray wasn't sure how he felt about that. He was honored that Patrick trusted him, but he preferred to work with the campers. He was rich though, so maybe by then, he could clone himself.
The young doctor took a seat behind the big, oak desk, and he knew that the first thing he had to do was schedule interviews, and hire two new counsellors as soon as possible.
He shook his head when he thought of Reggie. He had gone for a walk down by the lake the night before and hadn't come back. Why was it that of all the days he had decided to take off, it had to be this one? He had thought that Reggie had been really looking forward to spending the summer here. He had seemed so enthusiastic.
As if that wasn't bad enough, when they had discovered Reggie gone, one of the other counsellors had just quit on the spot. He said with the incidents last year, and Reggie going missing, the camp must have been haunted.
Gray had to laugh at that. There was no such thing as ghosts. He did realize that the camp seemed to have had its share of accidents lately... But still, ghosts, he thought in amused disbelief.
He had to put aside his thoughts because the campers were going to be arriving in a couple of hours and they desperately needed to replace the counsellors who'd left.
Scanning the applications, Gray quickly divided them into a discard pile and a second look pile. He was down to the last couple when the names of the last two applicants caught his attention.
Dean and Sam Westcott, brothers according to their applications.
The names had caused Gray's mind to drift back to when he was in his junior year of high school. They were so similar.
Gray had met Dean Winchester on the first day of the 11th grade. Dean had been standing at his locker, looking like a fish out of water, and Gray had immediately felt sorry for him. He had looked so miserable. Not that he would ever tell Dean that. He had walked over and started a conversation by asking if he could copy Dean's Latin homework. Not realizing that Gray was kidding, Dean had tried to give it to him the next day.
He had liked Dean right away. He seemed genuine, not like his other so-called friends. The two seemed to hit it off, and their friendship started slowly, but grew steadily and ran deep. Once Dean had truly allowed himself to believe he had a friend, Gray thought sadly.
Dean had eventually confided in him that he had diabetes, and that the kids in his old school hadn't made life easy for him. From what his friend had told him, Gray had really admired the way Dean had dealt with his illness. He rarely complained about anything.
It was actually what had inspired Gray to choose the specialty he did. There had been a couple of close calls, once when Dean got the flu and it caused his diabetes to go haywire, and another time when he had been shot in the shoulder during a hold up at the hardware store he was working at, and the delay in getting him to surgery because of complications from his disease had almost cost him the use of his arm. He wanted to stop anyone else from suffering the same way.
The Winchesters had moved away at the end of the school year, and Gray still missed his old friend and thought of him often.
He had kept in touch with Dean for a while, then toward the end of the summer, one of his letters had come back Return To Sender. He had immediately contacted Bobby, who had informed him that even he hadn't heard from John in a while.
Gray had applied for, and been accepted to, a boarding school for his senior year. He had left his address with Bobby, asking if he could forward it to Dean when he heard from them next. When Gray had come home for Christmas vacation, he went to Bobby's salvage yard and was told by a manager that Bobby was away for several months.
He hadn't come home after he'd graduated. His father hadn't been happy to find out that Gray wanted to go pre-med in college, rather than go into business so he could work in the family finance company, and he didn't want to deal with his father's lectures, so he had taken a job that summer, working in Connecticut, near Yale, where he had been accepted into the pre-med program on a full scholarship.
He wondered what Dean was doing now. He was probably putting his math skills to use and working at NASA or something, he thought fondly. Sam would probably be in his last year of university right now. Gray guessed one of the Ivy Leagues. He thought he remembered Sam mentioning something about law school.
For a brief second, he wondered if it was Sam and Dean, and there was a mistake, and somehow the name of the school they had gone to had ended up in the last name field. Their ages would be about right. He knew he was grasping at straws, but that still didn't stop him from checking their education. Sam, it seemed, was in his last year, pre-law at Stanford. Dean's had listed that he had graduated from Blacksburg High School in Virginia. There was no indication that the older brother had gone to college. Nothing to do with the Westcott Preparatory Academy, either.
He told himself not to be stupid. It couldn't be them. Could it?
Stop it Gray, he told himself firmly. He picked up the phone for reasons he didn't understand, as he and Patrick had agreed to hire someone with a medical background, or someone with diabetes to help relate to the campers. These brothers were just two guys looking for a summer job. It didn't seem like they had much experience, other than a couple of summers working at a camp Gray had never heard of.
"Sherry," he addressed the secretary. "Can you call Sam and Dean Westcott and ask them to come in for an interview.
Sam and Dean had just finished taking out the airplane demon and had been looking for their next gig. Sam noted that Dean seemed a little reluctant to take on anything, and wondered if it was because of their father's voice mail.
They had been trying to get a hold of their father for weeks, yet until the other day, they had just gotten the message saying that the phone was out of service. They were both relieved that they were now getting the answering machine.
Sam knew that despite Dean's protests that if their father didn't want to be found he wasn't going to be, his brother was worried sick about their father, that he might be injured, or worse. He knew that Dean was hurt that their father had just taken off without letting his elder son know, and that throwing himself into a hunt was his way of dealing with it.
It left the Sam wondering if the reason Dean was so reluctant now, was because he wanted to be available if their father called. Not that either expected it, but Sam was positive that Dean still clung to that hope.
This last case had rattled him. After the plane had landed, Dean had spent the next few days drive aimlessly, shooting down every case Sam had suggested. Sam wondered if Dean needed time to get his emotions back into their bottle. The fact that Dean was afraid to fly surprised him greatly. He knew that Dean hated to show weakness of any kind, and was wondering if his brother was mad at himself for showing Sam his vulnerability.
He wasn't sure how they had arrived in Maine, but they had pulled into town three days ago. Dean had gone to a bar and hustled pool to get them a motel room for a few days, saying that the Impala needed a tune up. Dean had then spent his days at a local do-it-yourself-salvage yard.
If Dean needed a break, Sam didn't understand why they hadn't just headed to South Dakota and stayed with Bobby. He asked his brother, but all Dean said was that this place was as good as any and headed out the door. Sam knew he had missed a lot in the last three and a half years, and he wondered if Dean and Bobby had had some sort of falling out. He really hoped not. The gruff mechanic meant the world to Dean. Sam suspected something had happened and he had a strong feeling that their father was involved, causing him to get mad at his dad all over again.
While Dean was at the salvage yard, Sam spent his days on his laptop looking for a job, anything to distract his brother. He had quickly found a job at the local summer camp, where strange incidents and accidents were taking place. It wasn't much of a lead, but they had investigated less. After a day of searching, it was the only thing in the area that Sam could find.
This job was going to be a harder sell than anything Sam had come up with. Dean was going to protest mightily. He hated camping, and Sam wasn't all that fond of it either, but the fact that a kid had gotten seriously injured was not something he could let go. Add to the fact that the summer camp was for children with diabetes, and Sam knew this was a job they had to take.
After all, Dean had been diagnosed with diabetes when he was 16. He was still technically a diabetic, and would still be taking insulin injections if Bobby hadn't found an amulet that suppressed his symptoms.
He made up fake resumes, using the last name Westcott, the name of the private school he and Dean had attended for a year. He had no idea why he had chosen that name, somehow it just seemed right. He made up some fake job experiences, and wondered if he should put down that Dean was diabetic. In the end, he decided not to. First, Dean would kill him, and second, he didn't want to have to try to explain to the camp why Dean didn't need insulin.
He went to the local post office and faxed in their applications. He wasn't expecting to be able to get the jobs, after all, the camp was probably looking for people with a medical background. It would be easier to have access, but if they didn't, they would find another way to be able to deal with the case. They always did.
He had been shocked when he had gotten the call for interviews. He honestly hadn't been expecting them. Now he just had to convince his stubborn older brother that they should do this.
"No!" Dean Winchester told his brother emphatically, after Sam had explained the hunt.
"Why not?" Sam huffed in an impatient tone.
"Because," was Dean's answer.
"You said it yourself, Dean. If we're not going to look for dad, we have to find something to hunt. This is as good a lead as any."
"Dude, wendigo, remember?" Dean said with a small touch of irritation in his voice at Sam bringing up their father.
"I remember. What does that have to do with anything?" Sam answered. He read Dean's tone and decided to not to mention their father again.
"What was the last thing I said to you before we left?"
"I hate camping," Sam said. "But this isn't the same thing," he insisted.
"Summer camp, it is so. Forget it. Find something else."
"Come on, Dean," Sam pleaded.
"Is there any part of no you don't understand? There must be some other fuglies out there. A kid falls, breaks a leg and a counsellor almost drowns. How does that make it our kind of thing?"
"Because the kid claims she felt someone push her and the counsellor, who was an Olympic swimmer, almost drowns in a calm lake in front of a 100 witnesses, and now the latest in incident says that a counsellor just disappeared."
"He probably got smart and took off. That still doesn't make it our kind of thing."
"Something is happening. The kid that broke her leg, almost lost it due to an infection."
"Sam," Dean said. "I feel for her, I really do, but I don't want to spend the summer in some bug infested hellhole. Can't we find a demon on Daytona beach or something?"
"It's not your ordinary summer camp," Sam explained. He decided it was time to play his trump card. "It's for children who have diabetes." Ever since they had investigated the ghost of Peter Sweeny, Sam had realized that Dean had a soft spot for children, so if he thought kids were getting hurt, he would be more than willing to take the job.
"Where is it located again?" Dean asked and Sam scented victory.
"Western Maine," he said with a grin as Dean grabbed his keys.
"I really hate you," Dean said as he opened the door and slammed it behind him.
Sam couldn't help but grin. He'd known that would work.
They were on the road for about an hour, and Sam had been secretly glancing over at his brother the whole time. Sam had wondered if maybe this hunt was a mistake. Dean looked tense and Sam knew he was thinking about the time he was 16. His own mind drifted back to when he was 12. That had been the happiest year of Sam's life. They got to spend a whole year living in one spot with no hunting. Sam knew that the year had been filled with ups and downs for Dean. He had been 16 and had just found out that he was suffering from diabetes, which was the reason for them settling down in the first place. He also noticed Dean's hand occasionally gripping the amulet that hung around his neck, as if making sure it was still there. If he took it off, all his symptoms would come back.
Sam couldn't help but think of Grayson Remington, a boy in Dean's class, who had become Dean's best friend. Sam, and even their father, had really liked him as well. He'd stuck by Dean through a lot during that year and Sam knew that even though Dean would never admit it, he hadn't really wanted to leave either.
It always made Sam feel bad that the two of them had lost touch, and again he blamed his father. Dean and Gray had exchanged letters, but then John had almost gotten arrested. He had just killed a werewolf and the police had found him standing over the dead man's body, and assumed it was what it looked like, that John had shot a man in cold blood. Through a combination of his marine and hunting training and pure luck, John had avoided capture. This had made it necessary for him and the boys to go deep undercover, though, they had gone so deep that not even Bobby knew where they were. John had forbidden his sons from writing to their friends, to avoid a paper trail.
When it had been safe to get a letter to Bobby, he had said that he wasn't sure were Gray was anymore. He had been deep undercover himself, in a witches' coven for months. When the job was done, Gray had gone off to college. Bobby offered to use his contacts to find the young man, but Dean refused. It had been two years since they had had any type of communication and Dean didn't want to bother him. He'd said that it was better this way, because they never knew when they would be required to break contact again. Sam and Bobby were both a little upset and sad that after everything that had happened, Dean was still trying to protect himself. They both knew the real reason that Dean didn't want to find Gray was that he was afraid of getting hurt if Gray didn't answer.
About two hours later, a shiny, black, classic 1967 Chevy Impala pulled off the main street onto a dirt road.
"My car better not get damaged by this friggin' bike path, Sam," Dean threatened as they hit a deep pothole. "I just fixed her up," Dean said with a whine in his voice.
"I promise to make any necessary repairs," Sam answered in an indulgent tone.
"Little brother, if you were the last mechanic on earth, I'd try to find life in a distant solar system."
"Like to see you try, Dean. It would require flying," Sam immediately retorted and then he cringed. It had just slipped out.
"Very funny," Dean said with no trace of humor in his voice. "I so hope this camp employs its own clown," Dean sneered.
"Shut up," Sam mumbled.
"Remind me why I'm taking this job again?" Dean asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Because we kill supernatural bad guys for a living and this camp seems to have one attached to it."
"I need a new day job," Dean grumbled as he pulled into the driveway. "Camp Sunshine, I must be out of my mind. I mean, who the hell names a camp Sunshine."
"What would you name it, Dean? Camp Metallica?" Sam read the look that came over his brother's face. "Hey, Dean, I was kidding."
"Gray, can I see you for a moment," a voice called out to him.
"I have my 12:00 appointment. Is it urgent?"
"We need you to sign off on the shipment to the medical hut. The supplier won't release it to anyone without an MD."
"Thanks Sherry," Gray said to the secretary and he got up. "I'm expecting two candidates for the counsellors' jobs. Can you show them into the office if they get here before I get back?"
"Sure, no problem," Sherry said agreeably.
It wasn't long before the two men Gray had been expecting showed up, and Sherry hoped they were hired just for the eye candy they would provide.
Dean and Sam were seated in the office of the camp director.
"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this," Dean grumbled.
"It's not so bad, Dean. This should be fun."
"Fun," Dean said in disbelief. "How is it going to be fun cleaning up after a bunch of kids? I hope the maintenance bunk is far away from the campers," he groused.
"Um, you're not exactly applying for a job in maintenance," Sam replied. He really was about to be killed.
"Sam," Dean said in a warning tone.
"Counsellor?" Dean said in disbelief. "I can't be in charge of the little kids. What do I know about kids?"
"I saw how you were with Lucas," Sam said. He couldn't believe that Dean had so little confidence in himself. "Not to mention the fact that you raised me."
"Dad raised you," Dean said coldly.
"Dean, come on…"
"Don't start, Sam," Dean snapped. "Dad did the best he could."
Before they could say anything more, the door opened. Sam and Dean rose and turned to greet the newcomer, but the words died on their lips.
Gray walked back into the main cabin and Sherry told him that his job applicants were in the office. Gray thanked her and then walked in to greet them. When he saw the two faces staring back at him, he knew who they were. He would have recognized them anywhere.
Please make my day and read and review. Even one makes me happy.