Chapter Text
Three months after the accident Bran's parents and doctors had decided it was time for him to go back to school. They said it would be good for his rehabilitation to get out and be with people his age again, to go see his peers and friends and not only his family.
Bran was not so sure about it. He wasn't even sure if he had any friends, at least not anymore.
Being a High-School freshman for only a bit over a month before it happened – now it was spring - he hadn't found any real new friends. In fact just two of his classmates – Arianne and Little Walder, whom he both knew already from Middle-School – had bothered to visit him. And they only came a few times in the beginning.
Okay perhaps it was his own fault, at least a little bit. He had said some nasty things he later rued and had kicked them out of his room screaming. He was just bitter and didn't want their pity.
But after that nobody from school visited him again.
Bran sighed as they turned into the school's parking lot. Luckily class had already started and nobody was left out here to see how his father carried him like a little child – it was embarrassing, he was almost sixteen for God's sake – before setting him down in his wheelchair.
His mother had come too and was now going to push him to the directors office but that was too much. Bran pulled the brake and glared at her.
"I can do this myself! I don't need to be pampered all the time!" he snapped.
"Okay, okay. I just wanted to help."
Bran noticed the hurt look and resigned tone in her voice and couldn't help but feel a bit bad. His family, they all just wanted to help and only meant well but sometimes it was just too much to bear. Bran turned his wheelchair and set off towards Westeros-High, his parents following on his heels.
More then half an hour later they were still sitting in Director Mormont's office. Granted there was some paperwork but most of the time it was his Mom lamenting her concerns: What if he needed help getting around? Help on the toilet? (At that point Bran wanted to sink in the ground to never reappear again.) What about PE-class? What if somebody bullied him? What if...
Bran had ceased paying attention a long time ago. It was her fucking idea that he should go back to school and now she wouldn't let him.
The adults were deep in their conversation when Bran heard a soft, tentative knock. A few moments later the door was cautiously opened and a tall, lanky kid with dirty blond curls peered in.
“Can you please wait outside. I'll be with you in a minute.” the director told him.
“Oh! Ah sorry. I didn't want to interrupt you.” the boy excused himself and backed out of the room.
“You see Mrs. Stark I have other matters to attend to, but be assured Brandon won't have any trouble here. And if any problem should arise the school staff – including me – will tell you and take care of it. Mrs. Stark, Mr. Stark, Brandon.” he complemented them out of the door and at least to Bran it seemed the Old Bear was thankful for the interruption.
Outside the boy sat opposite the office nervously picking on his fingernails before Mormont called him in. He glanced at Bran curiously before entering and closing the door behind himself
Bran stared after him before he registered that his mother was talking to him – something about his schedule.
“... And you know when you need something just talk to a teacher or ask your sisters for help. Or call one of us if it's really important.”
“Yeah Mom.” He rolled his eyes “You know I'm not a little child and have actually been to school before.”
“Okay, sweetie. Should we accompany you to your classroom?”
“Mom! Please leave already! I will find the history-class alone.”
“Come here” she leaned over to hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun.”
“You know Mom, it's school. Its not supposed to be fun.” he told her sarcastically as he scrubbed on his cheek to get rid of possible lipstick traces.
His father thankfully only patted his shoulder. “I'll come get you and Arya when school's over.”
“Okay Dad. Bye”
Then they finally left him alone.
Bran looked at his watch and decided not to go to History after all. There were only fifteen minutes left and Mr. Pycelle was a real pain in the ass. Seriously, the man was so boring and old he probably lived through the events he now taught about.
Instead he turned the other way where he would have English next with Mr. Selmy. Perhaps he would have a chance to talk to him before class started. Selmy was one of the few teachers Bran liked and before the accident he had also been his basketball coach. Now the basketball season was over – forever over for him, he thought bitterly – and football had started. Football was never really his sport, even before – he was too scrawny for it – but Jon and his brother Robb had been on the team before they graduated and Coach Selmy still asked about his former star-players from time to time.
Bran waited in front of the classroom when the bell rang and Selmy's previous class of seniors left in a hurry. His sister Sansa was among the leaving students and shortly nodded at Bran in passing as she and her best friend Jeyne laughed at something Margaery Tyrell the uncrowned queen of Westeros High had said.
When the last dawdler had left Bran entered and was greeted by Mr. Selmy.