A/N: Just a little ficlet to ease my boredom with a little bit of teenage kick-ass Dean. Something that will hopefully help me regain my muse and let me get on with the story that I 've had in the works for way too long as it is.
And just to reiterate the usual: No money being made, don't own anything or anyone, just writing this for fun and all that other crap that goes hand-in-hand with any fandom...
Just Another Day
It had, for the most part, been a fair fight.
Well, as much of a fair fight as any fight involving Dean Winchester could be.
Especially when the other combatants were other humans. And teenagers to boot. Three boys who had just assumed that, together, they could handle the newcomer. But, whom it turned out, were just as ill-equipped to handle Dean Winchester as most other boys his own age.
And, although no one had ended up in the hospital, they were all a little worse for wear afterwards.
Except for Dean of course.
He had hardly been injured. At least, not to any extent that he couldn't handle and not near as badly as during some of the other fights he'd been involved in. Fights that usually featured a vast menagerie of otherworldly entities that most people believed existed only in scary movies and over-the-top campfire tales. Because, when it came right down to it, having a chair flung across your back by someone with similar physical attributes wasn't nearly as bad as being flung clear across a room by a pissed-off spirit and smacking full-force into the opposite wall.
Which also seemed to happen on a regular basis.
But while he had accepted the detriments of wrestling ghosts, demons and other supernatural beings as part and parcel of the family business as a whole, it was the ritualistic fisticuffs with his fellow students that he could do without. The jerks who decided, for some lame reason or another, to mess with the new kid in town.
Or just because they figured they could.
Take this latest escapade for example. A fight with three thick-headed jocks that had been precipitated by an earlier altercation with the star quarterback of the football team, who just happened to be the same guy that currently held the top spot in this particular high school's Female Adulation Society. The #1 heartthrob of the entire school.
Until the day the Winchesters drove into town that is. And Dean enrolled in school.
Upsetting the proverbial applecart.
It wasn't his fault that most girls were drawn to him like moths were to a flame, that all he had to do was take a stroll through the halls of whatever fucked-up institute-of-adolescent-instruction he happened to be enrolled in at the moment and the majority of the female population took notice. It wasn't like he went looking for their attention.
Okay. Maybe that was a lie.
Because he did kind of revel in the attention he garnered, usually aiding and abetting it by taking a casual stroll through the halls of his new school under the guise of obtaining an accurate lay of the land so to speak. But as he sauntered down the crowded halls with his usual self-assured swagger, he not only found himself canvassing the female students for his own interest but also couldn't avoid noticing the appreciative eyes and shrouded whispers that followed in his stead. It was simply that easy to catch their eyes. And, he had to admit, gaining the interest of the female students seemed making attending a new school so much less taxing and provided him with a viable reason for actually showing up for classes in the useless waste of time, effort and energy that otherwise comprised the majority of Dean Winchester's secondary school education.
Unfortunately, it was what also usually led to the majority of the conflicts.
And, in this town, brought him to the highest attention of the school's star quarterback.
Who must have felt socially threatened by the newcomer, afraid of losing his social standing with the girls and mistakenly deciding that a display of his male prowess was what was needed, thinking that a little informal warning and public humiliation of his latest challenger would quickly solve the whole problem. But Dean had been-there-done-that so many times before that he quickly turned the tables on the dickheaded quarterback, making a complete mockery of him in front of the other students who had gathered to observe the latest spectacle and quickly turning a verbal, non-violent tête-à-tête into a full-scale physical confrontation.
That is to say that the quarterback threw the first punch.
And, as it turned out, his only punch. A punch that Dean avoided as easily as he avoided completing homework of any kind, ducking low at the first indication of trouble and, upon rising, landing a rock-solid blow to the hapless quarterback's midriff. And as the unfortunate athletic superstar buckled forward, Dean lambasted him with a fierce uppercut to the jaw, ending the fight before it even really got started with the quarterback crumpled on the floor at his feet.
An act that singlehandedly elevated Dean into the realm of hero-worship for the school's rank and file.
But which also turned him into fair game for the quarterback's friends and fellow teammates. Especially after the quarterback missed the game that afternoon under the ruse of an unexplained appendicitis attack. And, as was par for the course with these type of events, the team lost the game and, along with it, any chance of advancing to the play-offs.
Making Dean the archenemy of the entire football squad.
All of which is what led up to the showdown between Dean and three of the burliest linebackers he had ever seen, each one of them hell-bent on teaching him a lesson.
The only problem was that, like many people that big and cumbersome, they were far too slow. Football players they may have been. But they weren't agile or even experienced fighters. Something that Dean Winchester not only was, but had to be, given his family's choice of lifestyle. On the football field these types of guys tended to push the other players around with their weight while, off the field, they tended to get what they wanted through a mixture of fear and intimidation, their formidible body-builds being enough to scare most people into instant submission.
Only Dean Winchester wasn't 'most' people.
Although, when he first realized that they were indeed gunning for him, it may have appeared that way. Because as they attempted to surround him in the school's cafeteria, he immediately took a step backwards, bumping into a the wall that was directly behind him and causing a bevy of lopsided grins to appear on the faces of his catalysts as they tightened their formation and advanced toward him. For a moment Dean remained up against the wall, looking for all the world to see like an unfortunate mouse caught in a wire trap.
But, as everyone knows, things aren't always as they appear, and Dean was simply biding his time, coaxing his foes into a false sense of complacency as he waited for them to get close enough before he sprang with all the dexterity of a mountain lion. Spinning sideways, Dean braced himself against the wall, lifting one leg and thrusting it into the stomach of the centremost attacker. The surprise blow knocked the football player backwards, flipping him onto a table that wobbled slightly under the strain of his weight before collapsing and dragging him down to the floor along with it.
Having momentarily dispensed with the biggest of the trio Dean turned his attention back to the remaining two linebackers, turning to face them with a wiry grin and bringing his fists up to his shoulders as he bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet like a prize-fighter anxiously awaiting his opponent's next move. After taking a moment to recover from the unexpected assault on their colleague, the two rushed toward him but Dean ducked under their reach and effortlessly slid between them. The two teenagers quickly spun but Dean was faster, coming at them with a flurry of crossways jabs that left one player with a black eye and the other one with a bruised chin from a well-placed left hook
It was at about that time that Dean felt a chair hit him full force on the back, causing him to sink on his knees to the floor. Not wanting to remain in such a vulnerable position, he lowered himself the rest of the way to the floor, rotating swiftly onto his back and barely missing a knee that was intended to impact with his head. He grabbed hold of the booted foot as it flew past, twisting the boy's leg sideways and toppling him heavily to the floor. Another adversary moved closer and Dean trapped the boy's legs between his crossed feet before uncrossing them and knocking the hapless victim to the floor on top of his buddy.
Leaving only one more.
Dean sprang to his feet but he wasn't quite nimble enough to avoid the blow that forcefully hit him in the chest. He staggered backwards, almost tripping over the prone bodies of the other two boys before managing to regain his balance. He straightened, rolled his fists into a ball and advanced menacingly toward his remaining opponent. But just before he reached him a hand caught him roughly on the shoulder, forcefully spinning him around. Expecting that an additional opponent had decided to joined the foray, Dean was just about to throw a punch at him when he recognized who it was.
Mr. Donnelly, the shop teacher.
Both The gym and chemistry teachers were in the process of restraining the other three combatants and, as was always the case, the intervention of the teaching staff brought the fight to an abrupt end. Dean's hands dropped to his sides and he quietly waited for the words he knew were coming.
"To the office! All of you!"
Dean knew full-well what was going to happen there. His three opponents would be given a slap on the wrist compared to what they head in store for the likes of him. He would most likely be suspended for three or four days, maybe even a week, while they would most likely only have to suffer through a handful of detentions, the punishments differing due to their apparent value to athletic reputation of the school while he, himself, didn't hold any such over-inflated value, real or imagined.
And as he waited for them to call his father Dean couldn't help but smile, knowing that his father would have been expecting this call since the very first day of their arrival. It wasn't anything new to either of them; the circumstances of the phone calls just varying a little from town to town and they had both come to accept it as part of their routine.
It was, after all, just another day.