Chapter Text
Students would talk about them for months after they’d left- stories of the Winchester brothers echoed in all the towns they passed through. Words whispered through the halls about the 2 brothers that had moved through the town, the air of danger they both carried, and the threat that they presented.
The story of their first day was told to each new person who came to the school, as everyone vividly remembered the day they had showed up.
Two tall boys, one wearing a worn brown leather jacket, walking with absolute confidence alongside his younger brother. They moved in sync, with the kind of restraint and precision that soldiers often move with. People stepped out of their way, somehow recognizing the danger, the wrongness that seemed to lurk under their skin.
There was just something off about them. No one at school understood it, but if they knew how they had been raised, perhaps they’d understand. They had been left alone by their father too much, left behind while he hunted down leads- and there was just something off about them because of it. They were half-feral, co-dependent, radiating danger.... something was just wrong with them.
Every guy in the school hated Dean on sight. As soon as they watched him gain the absolute attention of every girl in the school, they knew they’d never befriend him. It didn’t matter that Dean never showed an ounce of interest in any girl, or guy at the school- people wanted him, even though they were afraid.
Students whispered about the unnaturally tall 15 year old, his lithe body and long, shaggy hair. The fact that he spoke to no one except teachers when he had to and his older brother- the fact that he was probably the smartest kid in the school and definitely the most mysterious.
They would remember that he was more proficient in Latin than the teacher, that he could run faster and for longer than anyone in his class without being out of breath. Some would remember in fear, the knife he took out of his jeans and shoved into his gym shorts one day in the locker room, they would realize that he carried it on him always and not a single person had ever noticed.
They spoke of the older one, 18, angelic in looks but certainly not in nature. They’d talk about how strong he was, how easily he won the few fights people picked with him, how the air shifted when he walked into a room. They’d talk about his calculating looks, the way he scanned every room he entered, searching for who knows what, nodding to himself after he found (or didn’t find perhaps) what he always looked for.
They spoke of his protectiveness, the way he seemed ready to kill anyone who touched his little brother, or even just looked at him wrong. Not that the younger boy couldn’t take care of himself. But the students of Gracelin High Tennessee, didn’t know that until the day the elder Winchester dropped his brother at the front gate alone, then drove away.
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Dean was recorded as having a sick day (helping his dad with a case) and his absence, led to one of the top dogs of the school thinking that this was the perfect time to go after Sam. The idea that, since Dean was nowhere to be seen, he could beat a message into Sam- that just because everyone thought they were cool, because they were new and hot, didn’t mean they were invincible.
The jock, Tyler, had come up behind Sam while he was at his locker. Another kid 2 lockers across, swore up and down, that Sam’s hands had twitched and his eyes sharpened, as if he knew what was coming.
Sam didn’t flinch when a fist slammed into the locker next to his head- he just sighed internally and turned to face the meathead behind him. He kept his face neutral, and mentally reminded himself that killing this guy in front of all these people wouldn’t go down well, and they’d definitely have to leave town sooner than planned if he did.
“Hey Winchester- where’s your guard dog?” Tyler snarled, spit bubbling at the corners of mouth.
Sam sighed again in lieu of a verbal response, while subtly reading Tyler’s body to determine which fist he was going to punch with. Left, he decided before snapping back into the moment when he was shoved back into the lockers.
“Not so tough without your precious Dean, are you? The older boy sneered.
They had attracted quite the crowd, standing back from them, watching the show with eager eyes.
Only a few of them noticed the dark, somehow excited glint in Sam’s eyes, later they would recognize that he wasn’t afraid of the fight, he was waiting for it. Waiting to burn away some of the restless energy that had been building since they’d been left in this shithole town. Waiting for the calm focus that took over his mind when he fought. Waiting to use the combat skills, his dad and Dean, had so rigorously drilled into him.
His hands tightened into fists by his sides, the anticipation overwhelming him now.
When Tyler finally swung (with his left, Sam noted smugly), he saw it coming from a mile away- it was projected in his whole stance. Sam dodged without thought, his body moving on instinct.
He swung a hard punch at Tyler’s face in retaliation and smiled when it connected. Blood sprayed from his now broken nose, running down his face in steady streams. Their audience stared on in shock, amazed at the ease in which the lean, 15 year old had kicked Tyler’s ass.
Tyler staggered slightly, then stood tall again.
“You’re gonna pay for that, you little bitch” he spat, as blood continued to stream from his aching nose.
Tyler threw a few punches in quick succession, desperate to land at least one hit on this kid, but Sam dodged them so smoothly, he felt he shouldn’t have even bothered to try. Tyler roared in frustration, then threw himself at Sam’s waist.
They collided hard, and Sam couldn’t stop himself from sliding backwards for a step or two, before he managed to halt their momentum. By the time Tyler realized they were no longer moving, it was already too late. Sam slammed his elbow into the back of Tyler’s neck, causing him to let go, as he fell to the floor.
“You done?” Sam asked the boy at his feet, voice hard- eyes harder.
Some of the crowd snickered at that, staring in wonder as this kid beat the crap out of one the biggest guys in the school, without breaking a sweat.
Tyler groaned, then picked himself up off the floor, and he moved himself into a poor imitation of a boxer’s stance.
“Bring it freak” he said, before swinging another punch at Sam’s face.
Sam caught Tyler’s fist on its path to his face and bent his hand so far back everyone in the hallway heard the crack that sounded as the bone snapped.
Tyler made a chocked scream, eyes darting between his broken wrist, and Sam’s ruthless expression.
The crowd took a few steps back, all suddenly very aware of the danger that radiated off the boy in front of them.
Sam let go of Tyler’s wrist with a final, cruel squeeze and smirked as the bully fell to the floor once more, curling in on himself a little.
“You done?” Sam repeated sternly.
Tyler nodded quickly.
“Good choice,” Sam said easily, before turning back to his locker, and packing his books away like nothing had happened.
As if he hadn’t just won a fight against someone who looked like he could’ve broken him in half, as if he hadn’t taken a real hit the whole time, as if he couldn’t care less about what just happened.
The audience was still there, staring at Sam with varying levels of respect, and fear. Several teachers came along then, pushing their way through the sea of students, until they reached the clearing.
Two of them moved towards Tyler, helping him up and guiding him to the nurse’s office. The third, Mr. Quinn, looked from the blood on the floor, to the bruises forming on Sam’s knuckles and asked what happened.
“Nothing sir. Tyler fell over, that’s all.” Sam answered confidently, looking the teacher in the eye, and smiling charmingly.
His eyes widened at the answer, ‘does this kid seriously think I’m gonna buy that?’
But when he repeated the question to the remaining audience, the students readily agreed with Sam’s story, practically tripping over themselves to back him up.
Mr. Quinn realized he couldn’t do anything without actual proof, so he shook his head and stalked off to the Principles office.
The next day, Dean was back, and it was clear he’d heard what went down while he was gone. He didn’t stray from his brother’s side, and wore a proud smile all day- it was as if he was broadcasting ‘That’s right everyone, my baby brother’s a god damn bad-ass all on his own’- the students seemed to understand, and no one ever tried to mess with either of them again.
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The rumor mill at Gracelin High had always been strong when it came to the Winchester brothers. Some students swore they had seen them at their motel one night, both covered in blood, sitting outside passing a cigarette between them easily. Others said they had seen Dean cleaning guns one afternoon, sitting on the hood of his car, polishing the pistols like they were sacred.
One student, a shy girl named Sara, had told only her close friends about her encounter with the brothers. She told the story quietly, glancing around constantly, as if the boys would appear behind her, regardless of the fact they had moved away weeks ago.
She told her friends about the time she’d snuck behind the bleachers to have a smoke, and about the noises she heard, prompting her to search for the source curiously. She told them that she’d peeked around a corner, and seen the younger Winchester shirtless, straddling his older brother and leaving a trail of hickey’s down his neck.
She told them what else she heard, the haunting words the elder Winchester had spoken.
“Fuck baby boy… you’re killing me… quit teasin me Sammy, you know we can’t stay here too long” Dean had whispered in between moans, his hands sliding along his brother’s thighs desperately.
Her friends had stared at her in disbelief once she’d finished her story. Those boys were strange- sure, co-dependent- definitely, but incestuous- that was insane.
The rumor had spread anyway, but only a handful of students had really believed it. Only the kids had looked close enough to notice the hands on each other’s thighs under the tables at lunch, or the looks they’d give each other when they thought no one was watching or the way they’d come out of bathrooms together- clothes rumpled, lips swollen.
Most people didn’t want to believe it, so they simply chose not to. No one was stupid enough to ask them if it was true, the answer wasn’t worth the ass kicking they’d no doubt receive.
None of them knew the depth of their relationship, none could understand their bond. They were everything to each other, always had been, always would be.
The brothers left within weeks, but the rumors remained for months. Soon enough though, students would go back to their regular lives and memories of the strange boys who had raised a little hell, would fade into nothingness just as they had.