I've never been a fan of the pre-series fanfics, but I had this plot bunny in my head and had to go with it. Yes, I'm obsessed with dark Sam so this PROBABLY has that somewhere in it. I just wanted to see what would happen if some snooty teacher messed with our Sammy. Ha, so let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

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Sam sat in the back of the classroom, clicking his mechanical pencil, watching the lead extend out of its holder, and pushing it back in.

Click click click.

Push.

Click click click.

Push.

Click click click.

Push.

"Samuel Winchester," the teacher asked for the third time, snapping him out of his stupor.

"Huh?"

"You mean, yes," the teacher corrected him.

"Oh….uhh…yes?" Sam said, straightening in his chair. He suddenly saw that the entire class was staring at him as he blinked their images into focus. He must have been daydreaming.

"You know, Sam. Maybe if you focused more in class, you wouldn't be flunking right now," the aging teacher scoffed, always punctuating her sentences with an upturned nose.

Sam had been with this teacher for two semester now, and something told him that no matter what the age, even in high school, teachers should show you a little more respect than what this woman had shown him the past few months.

"And come to think of it, even if you did try, I don't think you could make it," the teacher continued to slice with her words. "Lazy," she continued, and turning back ot he board, "probably that father" she ended under her breath.

"Whatever, you old hag," the rebellious Sam mumbled.

The teacher's white erase marker had just begun it's squeal against the board, but suddenly stopped cold.

"Excuse me?" the teacher turned around, eyeing Sam above the rim of her glasses.

Realizing he had been caught but knowing that his peers had heard him, Sam still tried to cover it up, "I said….ummm….'Where's my bag'?"

The other students began snickering. A girl in ripped jeans and a flannel shirt wrapped around her waist clicked her tongue. "Yeah, ummm, he did."

The teacher heard the giggles and comments from her classroom. Determined not to lose her power, she stepped eagerly towards the Winchester.

"Quiet down, class," she directed, eyes locked on Sam. "What did you really say?"

Sam sat up straighter in his desk. Turning his head from side to side, he noticed that all eyes were on him, waiting for his next move in this legendary standoff.

"Umm…." He swallowed.

The clock's ticking seemed to get louder in his ear drums as he thought about his retaliation. The math numbers behind the teacher's head started to blur in and out of focus. The room swayed and spun, and Sam felt his heart rush into his stomach as he realized another headache was coming on.

"Not now," he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, now," the dictator soared above him, the fluorescent lighting casting no shadows but the ones across her face.

"You tell me what you said this instant or it's the principal's office for you. AGAIN!" slamming a firm palm against the front of his desk.

Instantly, the pain was gone.

As he opened his eyes, Sam could see for the first time. The dark façade of the elderly beast before him shivered and swirled like smoke, suffocating everyone around him.

Everyone except him, that is.

Cooly, confidently, Sam smirked and felt the quiet crackle of darkness around this woman. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his pulse, readying for the scene. Licking his lips, he opened his mouth when the teacher interrupted him.

"Well?! Cat got your tongue?!"

Sam closed his mouth and smiled.

Something clicked and Sam gazed intently into the monolith's beady black pupils.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Push.

He pushed his thoughts to her, No, but it has yours.

A minute later, the classroom was filled with students standing and shouting, horrified at the image of their 2nd period Calculus teacher, dropping to her knees in front of her mirror and, finally, running wildly from the classroom in tears.

"I don't know what got into her," the administration would say.

"She thinks she has lost her …what?," another teacher would whisper in the lounge.

"Nobody can explain it," a student tells her friend.

"Doctors say that she will not be returning to this school. Back to you, John," the reporter states.

And Sammy smiled.

END.