run on for a long time - SN fic - PG13
Aug. 20th, 2007 11:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfTitle: run on for a long time
Chapter: II
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: the Winchesters aren’t mine. Title from “God’s Gonna Cut You Down” performed by Johnny Cash. The poems contained herein are, in fact, mine.
Warnings: AU, clearly
Pairings: OMC/OFC
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 2960
Point of view: third
Notes: written for
reel_spn, to the prompt of Dead Poets Society.More notes: the rest of Sam's poem can be found here.
Chapter I
Geena is the first thing he recalls with clarity. She swooped in and rescued him from Hell, took him away to her castle, where she mended him, where she treated him like a person and showered him with love.
Dean adores Geena. He worships the ground she walks on. If she asks, he’ll jump off a cliff and never regret it.
Unfortunately, with Geena comes Michael, her husband. Michael never once raises a hand to Dean, and his voice only infrequently, but Dean knows Michael can barely stand him. Dean spends as little time with Michael as possible.
Geena’s children, Rebecca and Thomas and Clara, are easier to stand. Rebecca and Thomas don’t particularly like Dean, or understand Geena’s decision to take him in, but Clara actually gets to know him. They have a few things in common—they both prefer classic rock to any other music and despise Reese’s, and both love riding horses over all else.
Geena is gentle with Dean, never forces him to go faster than he’s comfortable, lets him pick food and movies, gives him a choice in everything. She understands his need for control, how he doesn’t like being touched, how sometimes he just needs silence. She never sneaks up on him, never yells at him.
Dean loves her. She is the one person in the world he trusts.
-
It’s over three years after Geena adopts Dean when she dies. She’d taken him to the barn, let him exercise her Paint gelding, Toto, like they did nearly every afternoon. They stop at a convenience store they’ve visited a thousand times before, but this time there’s a robbery going on.
Geena shoves Dean down before he’s even processed the danger; a bullet zings right through where his head would’ve been. And then a bullet hits Geena in the neck and she falls. Dean stares at her, all pain in his newly-broken arm forgotten.
-
Nothing is the same after Geena’s death. Everything she’d taught him is shoved to the back of his mind, and he just stares at the walls, waiting.
If he’s good enough, she’ll come back for him. She’ll take him with her. She won’t be like Mommy and Daddy—he did have a daddy, right?—and leave him. If only he’s good enough…
Clara is kind, and she has Geena’s eyes. She visits him every day, not making him leave the room Geena had let him decorate. She tells him how Toto’s doing, asks if he wants to go riding. He just shakes his head.
If he’s good, Geena will come back.
She will.
She has to.
-
A year after Geena dies, Clara tells him she has to go.
“Dad’ll take care of you,” she promises him, and Dean looks away.
He’d been good, hadn’t broken any rules, hadn’t told any lies. But Clara’s leaving him, anyway. Just like Mommy and Daddy and Geena.
Why does everybody always leave him?
-
Two weeks after Clara leaves, Michael enrolls Dean in Welton Academy, a prestigious school far away in New Hampshire.
“You are a smart boy,” Michael tells him, leaving him in the principal’s office. “I know you’ll make Geena proud.”
Dean doesn’t watch Michael leave, instead turning his attention to Mr. Vernon, who smiles.
“Welcome to Welton, Dean,” Mr. Vernon says. “I’m sure you’ll be happy here.”
Dean hasn’t been happy in over a year. He doesn’t see that changing anytime soon. “Yes, sir,” he answers anyway.
He follows Mr. Vernon to a room with two beds and a desk. “This’ll be yours,” Mr. Vernon tells him. “Your roommate, Charlie Dalton, is in class; you’re excused for the day, but be on-time tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean responds.
“Your father is having your stuff shipped—should be here by late tomorrow, Wednesday at the latest.” Mr. Vernon smiles at him. “Charlie’ll let you know your schedule.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean says again. Mr. Vernon leaves him alone.
-
Dean sits on the bed furthest from the door and stares out the window, watching the clouds float through the sky.
He doesn’t want to be here. He can’t figure out why he didn’t run when Geena died. Can’t figure out why Michael kept him. Can’t figure out why he doesn’t run now, just—vanish.
It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s survived before.
But he stays sitting on the bed until his roommate arrives.
-
Charlie Dalton is loud and boisterous and always has a smile. Dean’s second day at Welton, he just follows in Charlie’s wake, only ever speaking when spoken to, only ever giving one or two-word answers. Charlie doesn’t mind talking, though, and doesn’t seem to notice Dean’s silence.
The teachers greet him and direct him to his seat; when class is over, Dean follows Charlie to the next one. It is an easy day. The rest of the week is the same.
-
Monday of his second week, Gregory Hynes shoves him in the lunch line. Calls him a mama’s boy and a pansy. Tells him he’s not good enough for Welton.
Dean stares at him, canting his head, assessing. He sees Gregory’s eyes flit to another boy, the sweat on his forehead, the nervous way he swallows. This attack wasn’t Gregory’s idea.
When Gregory moves, Dean meets him; one blow and Gregory’s nose is broken. The fight is over.
Mr. Vernon only tells Dean to apologize, which is no hardship. The boys look at him in awe and wonder as he goes about his day; Dean isn’t used to being noticed, doesn’t know how to react. He pretends it isn’t happening. It takes weeks for everything to go back to normal, although no one bothers him again.
The day after Dean breaks Gregory’s nose, though, Gregory sits beside him at lunch. He stares at Dean for a minute, warily, but Dean makes no sound, no movement. “So, where’d you learn to fight like that?” Gregory asks after a moment.
Dean shrugs, taking a bite of his hamburger.
“I’m Gregory Hynes,” he says, but Dean already knew that. He shrugs again. “Charlie told me that you’re cool, if quiet,” Gregory continues.
Dean glances over, almost wanting to ask why Gregory’d been such a bastard, then, but he holds his tongue.
Gregory seems to read his mind. “I was testing you,” he explains, pouring ketchup over his fries. “Matt and I do it to all the newbies. Most of ‘em shrink back. None have ever hit me before.”
You were lucky, Dean thinks. I could’ve killed you.
Gregory’s quiet for a moment. “So,” he finally asks, “what kind of music do you like?”
-
Charlie willingly drops Dean with Gregory and goes on his way. They’re still friendly, though nowhere near friends, and if Dean asks a question, Charlie’ll be more than happy to answer.
Gregory, it turns out, is not as big of a bastard as he’d appeared. He’s actually pretty popular. Dean can’t figure out why Gregory keeps coming back to him—or why he hasn’t just taken off into the night yet, since he pretty much hates Welton—but when the Christmas holidays roll around and Michael doesn’t send for him, Dean realizes Welton has become home.
Well. As much of a home he’s had since Geena died.
-
Five years he spends at Welton, only going back to Michael’s house for summer. He’s at the top of his class, easily keeping pace and then outstripping boys who’ve been at the school for years.
Five years and Gregory never lets him be, always there with a smile and a joke, always talking about movies and history and sports, always ready for Dean to speak. Dean rarely starts their discussions, but he does respond whenever Gregory asks.
Five years and he doesn’t know why Michael keeps him, why he stays. Life would be so much easier without the weight of Michael’s stare.
But Geena wouldn’t want him to leave. So he doesn’t go.
Five years, and he never goes.
-
Mr. Vernon tells him that Charlie’s been placed elsewhere and his new roommate is only fourteen. “He’s a good student, so the Board and I decided you’d be the best partner for him.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean answers.
-
The service before school starts is the same it’s always been; Dean doesn’t pay attention, though Michael nods along with Father Reling. Dean doesn’t know why Michael comes every year; he doesn’t care about Dean as a son, so it’s a pointless waste of time.
At the end of the service, Michael accompanies him to his room. “Geena would be proud of you,” Michael says, a slight hitch in his voice, staring out the window. “She loved you, you know.”
“I know, sir,” Dean tells him. “Thank you.”
“This is your final year,” Michael continues. “You’ve done well—better than I ever expected.” He turns to face Dean. “However, you need to drop Drama. You’re taking too many classes, Dean. You won’t be able to maintain your grades.”
There’s nothing to say but, “Yes, sir.”
Michael nods. “Make Geena proud, Dean,” he finishes and strides past Dean, out the room.
The second he’s gone, Gregory rushes in. “Dean, man, you love Drama,” he whines.
Dean shrugs, knowing it doesn’t matter, so he says as much. “It’s his money paying for school, so he gets the final say.”
Gregory scoffs. “I knew you’d say that.” He throws himself on the bed Dean claimed for himself and Dean walks over to the window. “You gotta take over your life, Dean.”
“After I graduate,” Dean says, mostly to himself, “I’m gone.” He’ll have honored Geena’s memory and the world will see him as an adult—he’s survived before. He can do it again.
Gregory clears his throat, almost uncomfortably, and Dean gives him a quick glance. His friend—his only friend—starts talking about his summer. His parents took him and his two sisters on a European trip. Dean listens with half his mind, the rest of him making plans for the future.
After graduation, he’s gone.
-
Mr. Vernon leads a tall boy into the room, introduces him as Sam Anderson, the new roommate. Dean studies him as Mr. Vernon leaves and Gregory ribs him. Taller than him, green eyes, floppy brown hair—and seems nice enough. After a moment, Gregory leaves, telling Dean he’ll be back later.
Dean sinks down onto the bed Gregory’d been on and nods to the other. “That’s yours,” he says. Sam nods in response. “Your stuff’s on the way, I assume?” Dean asks. Sam nods again.
“Should be here by Tuesday,” he answers. “It’s not much, though. Just some notebooks and pens, a few novels.”
“Do you have any questions?” Dean remembers his first days at the school well, and he’d been dealing with people his own age. For someone years younger, it couldn’t possibly be easy.
“Not at the moment,” the boy responds, stretching out on his own bed. “Is the offer open, though?”
“Of course.”
-
After supper, Gregory visits Dean’s room again, settling next to him on the floor. “Dr. Collins is back,” Gregory whines, “and in top form.”
Dean grins at him. “I don’t know what your problem is with him. He’s a wonderful teacher.”
Gregory mock-glares at him. “Easy for you to say, Perry—you’re his favorite.”
From his desk, Sam asks, “What’s Dr. Collins teach?”
“History,” Gregory answers. “We’re learning about the twentieth century this year.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“In my very first class with the man, I managed to get on his bad side.” Gregory rolls his eyes.
“Actually, if I recall correctly,” Dean cuts in, “you told him he had no idea what he was talking about and never apologized.”
“He didn’t!” Gregory protests. “He was completely wrong.”
Dean looks up at Sam. “They share a mutual dislike.”
Sam snorts and responds, “I can imagine,” turning back to his notebook.
-
On the first day of classes, Sam shadows Dean, much like Dean had shadowed Charlie, five years before. Unlike Dean, however, Sam quickly makes friends; by the end of the week, Sam has his own circle. Dean is content to leave the boy in their care.
The new English teacher, Mr. Keating, swiftly becomes Dean’s favorite. He’s interesting and young, with a twisted sense of humor that Dean appreciates. He doesn’t demand perfection, like most of the other teachers at Welton; Mr. Keating actually seems to revel in mistakes.
Not to ridicule the boys, though—he loves being able to teach them a lesson. Dean looks forward to his class more than any other.
-
The first English assignment of the year is to write a poem. It’s due on Friday, three days after Mr. Keating first tells them about it. The directions are simple: at least four lines long. And they’ll have to read the finished product in front of the class for full credit.
Sam nearly has a meltdown after supper, paging through his English book, reading everything about poetry it has to say. Dean watches, bemused.
“You’ll do fine, man,” he tells the boy. “Just calm down.”
Sam glares at him. “I have to get up in front of the class and read something I’ve written—I can’t calm down!”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “Dude.”
With a sigh, Sam turns to face him. “It was different, back home. I’d known everyone for years. But here…” He shrugs. “It’s just different.”
“Trust me, Sammy,” Dean says. “I’ve known most of these guys for years; you’re better than they are.”
Sam blushes, ducking his head. “Thank you.”
For some reason, Dean finds that endearing.
-
Dean doesn’t procrastinate writing his poem; Wednesday he just sits down at his desk and writes. It’s seven lines long and he’s fairly pleased with it.
Sam, however, waits until midnight on Thursday and scribbles down something he refuses to let Dean see.
In English, Mr. Keating calls on Charlie to go first. He reads out two haikus about sharks, his favorite animal. Gregory’s in the middle; his is about his older sister, who died years ago.
Dean is third-to-last, with Sam and a boy named Harry after him. Dean isn’t ashamed of his poem, but he never looks up from the paper as he reads:
The bell tolls not;
forever shall we wait.
Murmurs in the night,
fading away slowly day by day.
The bell tolls not:
the end has come
—and who remains when Death is done?—
Mr. Keating nods when Dean glances up. “Good job, Mr. Perry.” His smile is gentle. Dean smiles back and hands his paper in, walking to his seat.
“Mr. Pitts,” Mr. Keating calls. “You’re next up.”
Harry groans but rises and swiftly reads his poem, then hurries back to his seat. Mr. Keating walks over to collect his paper from him. Harry flushes as he hands it off.
“And now, your turn, Mr., Anderson.” Mr. Keating leans against the wall, nodding to Sam.
Sam looks down at his desk. “I—I didn’t write one, sir,” he says.
Dean blinks. He’d watched Sam last night; the kid definitely wrote a poem. So why the lie?
“Well, I’ll have to give you a zero for this assignment,” Mr. Keating tells him.
“I understand,” Sam answers, not glancing up.
Mr. Keating nods, shooting Dean a look he can’t read. “That concludes my lesson for the day,” he addresses to the class. “The rest of the hour is yours.”
-
There’s a thirty minute break between third and fourth hour, which for the seniors is English and History. Sam always spends it in the library; Dean and Gregory usually go the gym and shoot some hoops.
That Friday, though, Dean goes back to his room and searches for the poem he knows Sam wrote. He finds it crumpled on the ground next to their closet.
As he reads, he wonders—again—why Sam didn’t turn it in.
Slowly, bit-by-bit, he counted the money,
One coin at a time, dropping each through
His trembling, traitors’ fingers. Each caught the light,
Shimmered white in the fire,
The etchings highlighted, harsh and steel—
It was all there, all thirty pieces.
Thirty pieces, for his soul.
Thirty pieces, and they weren’t even gold.
“Shit, Sammy,” he whispers, smoothing it out on Sam’s desk. “That’s pretty good.”
-
He doesn’t mention the poem or the assignment to Sam, though he really wants to. They talk about a lot, though—movies, books, animals, dreams, life. Months fly by before Dean knows it, and Christmas break is here. Sam goes home, of course, as does Gregory. Only three seniors stay.
Mr. Keating stays, too, and Dean spends most of his time in Mr. Keating’s office, talking about anything that comes to mind. He’s spoken more this year than all five previous years combined.
He tells Mr. Keating about Geena and Michael, about dropping Drama. Mr. Keating tells him that he should talk to Michael, tell him how he feels. Dean tries explaining how little his feelings matter to Michael, but his favorite teacher can’t seem to comprehend. Dean drops it.
-
Soon enough, school’s in session again. They get back midterm grades: Dean has all As, as does Sam. Gregory scrapes by with two Cs and five Bs.
Gregory tells Dean about a play being performed in a near-by town, “A Midsummer Night's Dream.” The role of Puck is still open. Unless it gets cast soon, the entire production will be shut down.
He has three days to decide; finally, just before dawn on the Saturday of the last auditions, he chooses to go.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 06:13 pm (UTC)Oh, thank you!