Finding A Home
Title: Finding A Home
Author: immortal_jedi
Wordcount: 3703
Rating: PG
Characters: Gabriel(Loki), mentions of others, brief appearance by Dean Winchester
Summary: How does one go from being a globetrotting Trickster to being a settled history teacher? Some moments in the life of G. William Cooper. Set in the Different Roads AU created by jennytork, which can be found at cazadoretx.
Spoilers/Warning: Spoilers for one character’s identity in the Different Roads AU. Some spoilers for the overarching season 1-5 storyline.
AN: This story is a part of the Different Roads AU created by jennytork and written by jennytork and rambling_rosie. Thanks go to both of them for letting me play in their sandbox. If you haven’t read the series, go read it, it’s great!
March 1981
Loki sighed as he watched the Hunter stake the illusion of his double. He had to be losing his touch. This was the fifth Hunter in as many months to figure out who the Trickster was. Maybe it was time for a break.
He waited until the Hunter left before uncloaking himself and staring down at his double. After a moment, the double disappeared. Yes, it was definitely time for a break. So, what to do? Loki sat back and absently conjured up a candy bar to snack on as he thought. He wanted to stay in the US, he knew that much. But there had to be some place he hadn’t been to in a while, someplace he could just settle down for ten to twenty years, get a job, perhaps.
The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. A break from his job was probably just what he needed.
He snapped his fingers and an atlas appeared in his hands. He knew where he wanted to go- Texas. He couldn’t put a finger on why he wanted to go there, but he did. He opened the book to a random page in Texas. He might as well let chance make the decision. He scanned through the page, but nothing really jumped out at first.
Then he saw a town name that practically jumped out at him. Cazadore. Hunter. Oh, the irony fit perfectly. Yes, that was definitely where he was going to go.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Loki drove into Cazadore. It was a novelty. He hadn’t bothered with a car since just after World War 2. But now he was going to act like a normal human… well, as much as he could. He didn’t delude himself into thinking that he could act totally like a human. He was still who he was, after all.
But in the attempt to live a normal life, he’d bought a house here, as legally as he could. He’d start a job hunt the next day. He’d created his new identity carefully, giving himself a recent college degree and carefully setting up an illusion that would age normally, so he could stay for a couple of decades.
Loki stopped his car and looked up at his new house. Not too big, but just perfect for a young man just starting his career. He glanced around and snapped his fingers subtly. Now, if anyone was watching, they’d see a moving van drive up and the crew unloading furniture. He, however, ignored the illusion and walked into the already fully furnished house. Ok, so he was going to have some trouble acting normal. He’d get it eventually, he was sure.
A couple of hours later, he dispelled the illusion, and the “truck drove away.” Not even an hour after that, the doorbell rang. He blinked and snapped again, creating a mess of unpacked boxes. Of course no one could have unpacked in the time he’d been here. He’d just have to deal with it slowly over the next few days.
Right, normal. He opened the door, a slightly curious look on his face. “Hello?” he asked.
A young woman smiled at him. She was holding a casserole dish that smelled wonderful. “Hello, I’m your new next door neighbor. I noticed you driving up, and I thought I’d welcome you to the Cazadore. I’m Helen Sorensen.”
“Bill Cooper,” Loki said, introducing himself. “Thank you… I didn’t know what I was going to do for dinner tonight.”
Helen laughed. “Have you found your plates yet?”
He leaned forward, a secretive smile on his face. “I started with the kitchen stuff. But I have no food in the house yet.”
She laughed again. “Well, now you do. Tortilla pie, one of my specialties. Welcome to Cazadore. So, what will you be doing here?”
“Not sure,” Bill said. “I think I’ll look into getting a job after I’m unpacked. But I needed a change.”
Helen frowned and thought. “I know the high school is looking for a history teacher. The old one’s retiring at the end of the year.”
Bill blinked. “I just finished a history degree,” he mused. And the funny thing was, he had set up his identity with a history degree. He’d been there for much of it; it just seemed to make sense. In the back of his mind, something started to niggle at his thoughts. It was a little too convenient, wasn’t it? He banished the thought.
Helen smiled. “Well, then, you’d be an answer to prayer. We haven’t had any luck whatsoever.”
Ah… well, that was just perfect. For an instant, he was tempted to flee, but he knew what happened to those who tried to resist such plans. Being swallowed by a whale was not in his future, thank you very much. Mentally, he winced and banished the thought. He was Loki. It was all just a coincidence, he was sure.
“Far be it for me to refuse to answer prayer,” Bill replied, looking far happier than he felt. “I’ll head to the school on Monday and drop off my resume.” He still had to create a realistic resume, at that.
She grinned. “And you’re invited to Church on Sunday, as well.”
“Of course,” Bill replied. He didn’t answer beyond that.
They chatted for a few minutes, than Helen left.
Bill set the tortilla pie in the fridge and sat down at the table after clearing the kitchen of boxes. Well. After a moment, he shook his head. It was just a coincidence, after all. Those did happen, and sometimes they weren’t even ones he caused.
He turned and looked at the box strewn house. No need to worry about that again. Loki smiled and got to work. He’d moved to Cazadore, and he was sure he’d love the place. Or rather, G. William Cooper was going to love Cazadore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1981
Bill Cooper sighed as he looked down at the pretest he’d given all his classes. He had indeed gotten the history teacher job, and he was looking forward to it, but he needed to see where his students were before he could really get started.
And, to put it bluntly, it wasn’t pretty. The last history teacher had just been marking time until retirement, and the kids were just as enthusiastic.
He had his work cut out for him.
There were bright spots- most of them knew their stuff well enough, but it was all dry facts. He could tell from the way they wrote their essays that they knew dates, figures, and names, but they didn’t really care. None of it was real to them. To them, it was just something that had to be done.
He wasn’t going to let that continue. The seniors would be the hardest to reach, but he would. He was going to make the kids understand just how alive history had been. How it was individuals and armies, lives and deaths, pain and love, glory and hatred. They were going to be shocked, come tomorrow.
He got to planning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, he stared out at his first class. This was the sophomore level European History course, and most of them were eyeing the stack of papers he had on his desk uncertainly.
“Alright, you mooks,” he said. “Good news, good news, and bad news time. The good news is most of you know your facts pretty well. The other good news is that this test is not going to be graded- it was just let me know where you all are. The bad news is we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
Several students groaned. Bill grinned, bounced up on his toes, and picked up the stack of papers. There were enough packets for all of the students. “You all have your text books, and yes, we will be using them, but as much as possible, we’ll be using primary sources or better secondary material. In this packet is a list of books on European history- some are general histories, some are translated from period documents, and some are specific. Each semester you will all pick one to read and report on. I don’t care which ones you pick, but I made sure that all of the books are either in the school or public libraries, or in most bookstores.”
He grinned at them before turning to the blackboard. “Now, first subject. The Greek Republic and empire periods.”
The scene repeated in all his classes- even the government and economics class the seniors took. The list of books changed, the requirements changed, the first lecture changed. But he could feel the students perking up as he showed an interest in what he was lecturing on.
He hoped he could sustain that interest all year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1985
Bill sighed as he looked down at the now traditional pretest he gave his freshmen class. The junior high had had some upheaval last year, with the history teacher disappearing about half way through the year. Admittedly, he’d vanished because Loki had caught wind of his hobby of blackmailing some of the students for better grades. He’d put a stop to it in his own fashion- the biggest bout of Trickstering he’d done in years. It had been fun, but the results of the testing showed how disrupting it had been.
“Alright, Mooks. I know you had a bit of a disruption last year, what with Mr. Knight up and leaving, but guess what? That just means we’ll be working a bit harder. I know you all can do it. Let’s get started.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May 1986
Bill sighed as the last student left for the day- and the school year. He’d done it. His kids were doing fine, despite last year. And some of Mr. Knight’s victims were doing so much better. He’d taken them under his wing and showed them what a good teacher could be like. They were starting to thrive.
He liked that feeling. He liked how his kids always seemed to enjoy his class. He laughed out loud as he collected stray papers.
“What’s so funny, Bill?” The band director asked as he walked in.
Bill grinned. “Oh, I was just thinking, David- calling the kids “my kids”.”
The other man grinned. “I know what you mean,” he said. “Most of them… you know, a lot of the kids in the band talk about you. They say you understand them. That you get them.”
Bill smiled. “Good,” he said. “I want to. I like this job. When I took it, I never even thought I’d be a good teacher but…”
David sat on the edge of the desk. “You are, Bill,” he said. “You care. Everyone can tell. Parents and students alike.”
Bill smiled sadly. “I was just… I needed a break, you know,” he said. “It was time for a change when I came here. I didn’t expect to find a home.”
David nodded. “Cazadore is like that. It’s home to a lot of people.”
“A lot of good people,” Bill said.
“And you’re one of them, Bill,” David said.
“I’m still worried about some of the kids. The ones Knight was using.”
David sighed. “They’re doing better. They really are. Thanks to you. I don’t know why Knight took off like that, but it’s a good thing he’s gone.”
Bill smirked slightly. It was a good thing. And Knight would never be found- he hadn’t run away after all. He’d been Tricked- fatally Tricked. People like that deserved it.
They chatted for a while longer before Bill stood up and stretched. “I suppose I’ll see you at graduation,” he said.
David grinned. “Go, I’ll see you later.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Bill was taking a walk in the park when he was nearly run down by two miniature whirlwinds.
He flailed around for a moment before catching his balance and looking down at whatever had attacked him. Two little girls stared up at him in shock. He blinked. They blinked.
“Daphne, Trica!” a woman called.
All three of them looked up, startled. An Asian looking woman was running up to them. Bill glanced down at the two girls. One of them looked enough like the woman that it was obvious they were related.
He smiled at the woman. “I’m guessing at least one of these is yours.”
She slowed down and looked down at the girls. “Yes, Daphne is mine. Tricia is her friend.”
Bill crouched down. “Hello, Daphne and Tricia,” he said solemnly. “I’m Bill Cooper.”
The girls smiled at him. He chuckled a bit. They were cute. And there was something about how their souls shone. He’d keep a loose eye on those two. Something told him they just might have some part to play in the future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
January 1989
Bill groaned and rubbed at his forehead. He was forgetting something. He knew he was forgetting something. And it was something fairly important.
Ok, time to think. Students- all good. Some of them were failing, but that always happened. He didn’t like it, but it happened. School- going alright. They’d finished the holiday break a couple weeks back, and were gearing up to take another round of tests. AP tests weren’t for another few months.
So, what was it that he was forgetting?
Bill grabbed his briefcase filled with papers and left his house. The street was… unusually quiet.
He looked up and down the street. None of the kids who were normally waiting for the school bus were at the stop. No one was driving by.
Bill frowned and ducked back into his house. What was going on? He glanced at the calendar and stopped dead.
“Oh for Dad sake!” he exclaimed.
It was Martin Luther King Day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March 1993
Bill looked up as the door to his classroom opened. He wasn’t doing anything vital right now- just entering grades. So he didn’t hesitated to smile at whoever was about to come in. That smile faded when he realized that it was one of his students- and she was visibly trying and failing not to cry.
“Sandra? What is it?”
She whirled around. “Mr. Cooper. I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”
Bill came around his desk and held his hand up. “Sounds to me like you could use someone to talk to,” he said.
She shook her head. “No, no,” she said. “It’s nothing, it’s just silly.”
Bill shook his head. “Sandra, anything that makes someone cry the way you are isn’t something silly.”
“It is! I’m just a silly girl. That’s all I am.”
Bill sighed. “A silly girl wouldn’t get an A in my AP European History course,” he said. “Sandra, I promise, I won’t laugh.”
He didn’t. And it wasn’t a silly thing. Bullying never was. Bill gently calmed Sandra down before staring up into space. This was bad- but it wasn’t really Trickster level bad. He could do this the human way.
Cazadore was a good place. Most of the people here wouldn’t tolerate bullying. Last year’s suspension of half the football team had proved that.
So he’d just gather evidence.
The next day, he went to see the principal. Three cheerleaders ended up suspended for three days, and four more received detention.
And when Sandra came in to class, Bill smiled and handed her a note.
If you need to talk again, just knock on my door.
It had felt good, doing this the human way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
February 1995
Bill sat in the dinner drinking his hot chocolate, just listening to the gossip around him. So Mercer’s had found a new mechanic- apparently a very good one from the gossip.
And there was a mid-year transfer that was making waves with some of the elementary school teachers. Bill hadn’t caught the kid’s last name yet, but he was obviously very bright, and being raised by his older brother.
Bill shrugged. The way some of the teachers were going on about this Sam, he could look forward to having him in his class in a few years.
There must be a decent age difference if Sam was being raised by his brother, though. The gossipers were saying the boy was eleven, so his brother had to be at least seven years older. That, or it was a highly unusual situation. Well, he’d find out eventually.
Bill turned his attention to other gossip. The high school band was having troubles with a few of the new song arrangements- David had been heard proclaiming that the trumpet parts made no sense- and a group of the kids were planning to rewrite the songs themselves.
Bill couldn’t wait to see what they’d come up with.
Bill was distracted from his eavesdropping as Mrs. Clara, the town’s oldest widow slid into the booth with him.
“Hello there, Mr. Cooper,” she said.
“Mrs. Clara,” Bill replied. “Please, just call me Bill.”
“Very well, Bill. Now, I have something I’d like to ask you. My youngest granddaughter is returning to Cazadore after being away for some time. Since you are nearer to her age than I am, I was hoping you could recommend some young men to perhaps introduce her to. She was rather cruelly treated by the last young man she met, some years ago.” The way she was looking at him left Bill in no doubt that she was hoping he would step up the plate. That was new. He’d never been part of a community long enough for the grandmothers to try to marry him to their granddaughters.
Bill smirked. “I know several, ma’am. How old is your granddaughter?”
“She’s just turned 28,” she said.
Bill nodded. “Leo over at Mercer’s would probably be willing to help, as would Neal Young- he works in the bookstore in Beaumont. Those two come to mind immediately…” he frowned. “Did your granddaughter go to school here?”
Mrs. Clara shook her head. “No, her parents moved away when she was 12.”
“I see,” he murmured. “Well, I will certainly think about this. Please introduce her to me when she arrives. If nothing else, I can show her around.” *And warn her that her grandmother had started a matchmaking campaign. *
He smiled faintly into his mug. It was nice that the people of the town accepted him. He wanted to stay for a while longer, even though he’d been here for almost 15 years.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1995
Bill settled into his desk, trying very hard not to think about what that e-mail had said. There was no way it was The Dean Winchester, the one he’d heard about back when he’d… well, before.
That Dean Winchester was supposed to be still slogging his way through half a dozen schools a year, being molded into the perfect soldier by his father. It had to simply be a coincidence.
If it wasn’t… then someone had been going off script, and that wasn’t likely to have happened. Not for long. Someone would have noticed, and found a way to get things back on script. Bill wasn’t sure who would do it, but someone would. Unless the script had changed and he didn’t know.
Bill shook his head. No, no one was going off script. Too many of his… well, too many of them would not allow it.
Bill looked up and sighed. Enough. He had the books and a syllabus set aside for when the coincidentally named young man came in. And, it might be a good idea to mentor him. Such a young man, taking on a teaching job? He’d need help. Well, Bill was known to sometimes take students under his wing. This one could be another.
For an instant, he was startled by the sheer rightness he felt at that decision. *What is it, Father? * He prayed into the air. He didn’t expect much of a response. And the only response he did get back was a gentle feeling, as if someone had ruffled his hair. He smiled quietly. *Whatever you want, Father. Even now, you know that. *
Bill turned to his papers, those last few things that had to be done before the school year. Eventually, he noticed someone standing in the doorway.
*What is it, * he wondered as he put down his pen, *with kids showing up at the last possible minute to chat? * “Can I help you?” he asked the student.
The student stepped forward to reveal a boy with a charming, slightly dimpled smile. “Mr. Cooper? I’m Dean Winchester. Mr. Sorenson was supposed to contact you about me?”
“Ah yes,” Bill said. He stood up, to reveal that Dean was taller than he was and shook the boy’s hand. He had a strong grip. “Welcome to the trenches.” He didn’t let any of his shock show. This was The Dean Winchester, Michael’s vessel.
Dean chuckled. “Such as they are. Do you have the…”
“Yes, I have the syllabus and class calendar. They will show you all your assignments and when they're due. The textbooks are on the back shelf, and I expect to see you back here bright and early Monday morning." Now Bill understood why his Father had been so pleased at his decision. If he could help keep the boy from a dark fate, of course his Father would approve.
Dean picked up a textbook and added it to the other books in his arms, and then tucked the syllabus into the book. “Thank you, Mister Cooper. Just out of curiosity- how come you were expecting me and Mrs. Rose didn't seem to be?"
Bill chuckled. "Lily was gone all summer- only got back last Monday. My guess is she only skimmed through her messages."
Dean chuckled in response. "Thanks, Mister Cooper. See you Monday."
Bill smiled as he left. He went back to finishing up for his first class. It was hard to take his mind off what had happened though. Finally, just before the first bell rang, he set his pen down and looked up. “So that’s why I was drawn here. Dad, you’re even more of a Trickster than I am sometimes.”
Author: immortal_jedi
Wordcount: 3703
Rating: PG
Characters: Gabriel(Loki), mentions of others, brief appearance by Dean Winchester
Summary: How does one go from being a globetrotting Trickster to being a settled history teacher? Some moments in the life of G. William Cooper. Set in the Different Roads AU created by jennytork, which can be found at cazadoretx.
Spoilers/Warning: Spoilers for one character’s identity in the Different Roads AU. Some spoilers for the overarching season 1-5 storyline.
AN: This story is a part of the Different Roads AU created by jennytork and written by jennytork and rambling_rosie. Thanks go to both of them for letting me play in their sandbox. If you haven’t read the series, go read it, it’s great!
March 1981
Loki sighed as he watched the Hunter stake the illusion of his double. He had to be losing his touch. This was the fifth Hunter in as many months to figure out who the Trickster was. Maybe it was time for a break.
He waited until the Hunter left before uncloaking himself and staring down at his double. After a moment, the double disappeared. Yes, it was definitely time for a break. So, what to do? Loki sat back and absently conjured up a candy bar to snack on as he thought. He wanted to stay in the US, he knew that much. But there had to be some place he hadn’t been to in a while, someplace he could just settle down for ten to twenty years, get a job, perhaps.
The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. A break from his job was probably just what he needed.
He snapped his fingers and an atlas appeared in his hands. He knew where he wanted to go- Texas. He couldn’t put a finger on why he wanted to go there, but he did. He opened the book to a random page in Texas. He might as well let chance make the decision. He scanned through the page, but nothing really jumped out at first.
Then he saw a town name that practically jumped out at him. Cazadore. Hunter. Oh, the irony fit perfectly. Yes, that was definitely where he was going to go.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Loki drove into Cazadore. It was a novelty. He hadn’t bothered with a car since just after World War 2. But now he was going to act like a normal human… well, as much as he could. He didn’t delude himself into thinking that he could act totally like a human. He was still who he was, after all.
But in the attempt to live a normal life, he’d bought a house here, as legally as he could. He’d start a job hunt the next day. He’d created his new identity carefully, giving himself a recent college degree and carefully setting up an illusion that would age normally, so he could stay for a couple of decades.
Loki stopped his car and looked up at his new house. Not too big, but just perfect for a young man just starting his career. He glanced around and snapped his fingers subtly. Now, if anyone was watching, they’d see a moving van drive up and the crew unloading furniture. He, however, ignored the illusion and walked into the already fully furnished house. Ok, so he was going to have some trouble acting normal. He’d get it eventually, he was sure.
A couple of hours later, he dispelled the illusion, and the “truck drove away.” Not even an hour after that, the doorbell rang. He blinked and snapped again, creating a mess of unpacked boxes. Of course no one could have unpacked in the time he’d been here. He’d just have to deal with it slowly over the next few days.
Right, normal. He opened the door, a slightly curious look on his face. “Hello?” he asked.
A young woman smiled at him. She was holding a casserole dish that smelled wonderful. “Hello, I’m your new next door neighbor. I noticed you driving up, and I thought I’d welcome you to the Cazadore. I’m Helen Sorensen.”
“Bill Cooper,” Loki said, introducing himself. “Thank you… I didn’t know what I was going to do for dinner tonight.”
Helen laughed. “Have you found your plates yet?”
He leaned forward, a secretive smile on his face. “I started with the kitchen stuff. But I have no food in the house yet.”
She laughed again. “Well, now you do. Tortilla pie, one of my specialties. Welcome to Cazadore. So, what will you be doing here?”
“Not sure,” Bill said. “I think I’ll look into getting a job after I’m unpacked. But I needed a change.”
Helen frowned and thought. “I know the high school is looking for a history teacher. The old one’s retiring at the end of the year.”
Bill blinked. “I just finished a history degree,” he mused. And the funny thing was, he had set up his identity with a history degree. He’d been there for much of it; it just seemed to make sense. In the back of his mind, something started to niggle at his thoughts. It was a little too convenient, wasn’t it? He banished the thought.
Helen smiled. “Well, then, you’d be an answer to prayer. We haven’t had any luck whatsoever.”
Ah… well, that was just perfect. For an instant, he was tempted to flee, but he knew what happened to those who tried to resist such plans. Being swallowed by a whale was not in his future, thank you very much. Mentally, he winced and banished the thought. He was Loki. It was all just a coincidence, he was sure.
“Far be it for me to refuse to answer prayer,” Bill replied, looking far happier than he felt. “I’ll head to the school on Monday and drop off my resume.” He still had to create a realistic resume, at that.
She grinned. “And you’re invited to Church on Sunday, as well.”
“Of course,” Bill replied. He didn’t answer beyond that.
They chatted for a few minutes, than Helen left.
Bill set the tortilla pie in the fridge and sat down at the table after clearing the kitchen of boxes. Well. After a moment, he shook his head. It was just a coincidence, after all. Those did happen, and sometimes they weren’t even ones he caused.
He turned and looked at the box strewn house. No need to worry about that again. Loki smiled and got to work. He’d moved to Cazadore, and he was sure he’d love the place. Or rather, G. William Cooper was going to love Cazadore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1981
Bill Cooper sighed as he looked down at the pretest he’d given all his classes. He had indeed gotten the history teacher job, and he was looking forward to it, but he needed to see where his students were before he could really get started.
And, to put it bluntly, it wasn’t pretty. The last history teacher had just been marking time until retirement, and the kids were just as enthusiastic.
He had his work cut out for him.
There were bright spots- most of them knew their stuff well enough, but it was all dry facts. He could tell from the way they wrote their essays that they knew dates, figures, and names, but they didn’t really care. None of it was real to them. To them, it was just something that had to be done.
He wasn’t going to let that continue. The seniors would be the hardest to reach, but he would. He was going to make the kids understand just how alive history had been. How it was individuals and armies, lives and deaths, pain and love, glory and hatred. They were going to be shocked, come tomorrow.
He got to planning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning, he stared out at his first class. This was the sophomore level European History course, and most of them were eyeing the stack of papers he had on his desk uncertainly.
“Alright, you mooks,” he said. “Good news, good news, and bad news time. The good news is most of you know your facts pretty well. The other good news is that this test is not going to be graded- it was just let me know where you all are. The bad news is we have a lot of work ahead of us.”
Several students groaned. Bill grinned, bounced up on his toes, and picked up the stack of papers. There were enough packets for all of the students. “You all have your text books, and yes, we will be using them, but as much as possible, we’ll be using primary sources or better secondary material. In this packet is a list of books on European history- some are general histories, some are translated from period documents, and some are specific. Each semester you will all pick one to read and report on. I don’t care which ones you pick, but I made sure that all of the books are either in the school or public libraries, or in most bookstores.”
He grinned at them before turning to the blackboard. “Now, first subject. The Greek Republic and empire periods.”
The scene repeated in all his classes- even the government and economics class the seniors took. The list of books changed, the requirements changed, the first lecture changed. But he could feel the students perking up as he showed an interest in what he was lecturing on.
He hoped he could sustain that interest all year.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1985
Bill sighed as he looked down at the now traditional pretest he gave his freshmen class. The junior high had had some upheaval last year, with the history teacher disappearing about half way through the year. Admittedly, he’d vanished because Loki had caught wind of his hobby of blackmailing some of the students for better grades. He’d put a stop to it in his own fashion- the biggest bout of Trickstering he’d done in years. It had been fun, but the results of the testing showed how disrupting it had been.
“Alright, Mooks. I know you had a bit of a disruption last year, what with Mr. Knight up and leaving, but guess what? That just means we’ll be working a bit harder. I know you all can do it. Let’s get started.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May 1986
Bill sighed as the last student left for the day- and the school year. He’d done it. His kids were doing fine, despite last year. And some of Mr. Knight’s victims were doing so much better. He’d taken them under his wing and showed them what a good teacher could be like. They were starting to thrive.
He liked that feeling. He liked how his kids always seemed to enjoy his class. He laughed out loud as he collected stray papers.
“What’s so funny, Bill?” The band director asked as he walked in.
Bill grinned. “Oh, I was just thinking, David- calling the kids “my kids”.”
The other man grinned. “I know what you mean,” he said. “Most of them… you know, a lot of the kids in the band talk about you. They say you understand them. That you get them.”
Bill smiled. “Good,” he said. “I want to. I like this job. When I took it, I never even thought I’d be a good teacher but…”
David sat on the edge of the desk. “You are, Bill,” he said. “You care. Everyone can tell. Parents and students alike.”
Bill smiled sadly. “I was just… I needed a break, you know,” he said. “It was time for a change when I came here. I didn’t expect to find a home.”
David nodded. “Cazadore is like that. It’s home to a lot of people.”
“A lot of good people,” Bill said.
“And you’re one of them, Bill,” David said.
“I’m still worried about some of the kids. The ones Knight was using.”
David sighed. “They’re doing better. They really are. Thanks to you. I don’t know why Knight took off like that, but it’s a good thing he’s gone.”
Bill smirked slightly. It was a good thing. And Knight would never be found- he hadn’t run away after all. He’d been Tricked- fatally Tricked. People like that deserved it.
They chatted for a while longer before Bill stood up and stretched. “I suppose I’ll see you at graduation,” he said.
David grinned. “Go, I’ll see you later.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Bill was taking a walk in the park when he was nearly run down by two miniature whirlwinds.
He flailed around for a moment before catching his balance and looking down at whatever had attacked him. Two little girls stared up at him in shock. He blinked. They blinked.
“Daphne, Trica!” a woman called.
All three of them looked up, startled. An Asian looking woman was running up to them. Bill glanced down at the two girls. One of them looked enough like the woman that it was obvious they were related.
He smiled at the woman. “I’m guessing at least one of these is yours.”
She slowed down and looked down at the girls. “Yes, Daphne is mine. Tricia is her friend.”
Bill crouched down. “Hello, Daphne and Tricia,” he said solemnly. “I’m Bill Cooper.”
The girls smiled at him. He chuckled a bit. They were cute. And there was something about how their souls shone. He’d keep a loose eye on those two. Something told him they just might have some part to play in the future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
January 1989
Bill groaned and rubbed at his forehead. He was forgetting something. He knew he was forgetting something. And it was something fairly important.
Ok, time to think. Students- all good. Some of them were failing, but that always happened. He didn’t like it, but it happened. School- going alright. They’d finished the holiday break a couple weeks back, and were gearing up to take another round of tests. AP tests weren’t for another few months.
So, what was it that he was forgetting?
Bill grabbed his briefcase filled with papers and left his house. The street was… unusually quiet.
He looked up and down the street. None of the kids who were normally waiting for the school bus were at the stop. No one was driving by.
Bill frowned and ducked back into his house. What was going on? He glanced at the calendar and stopped dead.
“Oh for Dad sake!” he exclaimed.
It was Martin Luther King Day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March 1993
Bill looked up as the door to his classroom opened. He wasn’t doing anything vital right now- just entering grades. So he didn’t hesitated to smile at whoever was about to come in. That smile faded when he realized that it was one of his students- and she was visibly trying and failing not to cry.
“Sandra? What is it?”
She whirled around. “Mr. Cooper. I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”
Bill came around his desk and held his hand up. “Sounds to me like you could use someone to talk to,” he said.
She shook her head. “No, no,” she said. “It’s nothing, it’s just silly.”
Bill shook his head. “Sandra, anything that makes someone cry the way you are isn’t something silly.”
“It is! I’m just a silly girl. That’s all I am.”
Bill sighed. “A silly girl wouldn’t get an A in my AP European History course,” he said. “Sandra, I promise, I won’t laugh.”
He didn’t. And it wasn’t a silly thing. Bullying never was. Bill gently calmed Sandra down before staring up into space. This was bad- but it wasn’t really Trickster level bad. He could do this the human way.
Cazadore was a good place. Most of the people here wouldn’t tolerate bullying. Last year’s suspension of half the football team had proved that.
So he’d just gather evidence.
The next day, he went to see the principal. Three cheerleaders ended up suspended for three days, and four more received detention.
And when Sandra came in to class, Bill smiled and handed her a note.
If you need to talk again, just knock on my door.
It had felt good, doing this the human way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
February 1995
Bill sat in the dinner drinking his hot chocolate, just listening to the gossip around him. So Mercer’s had found a new mechanic- apparently a very good one from the gossip.
And there was a mid-year transfer that was making waves with some of the elementary school teachers. Bill hadn’t caught the kid’s last name yet, but he was obviously very bright, and being raised by his older brother.
Bill shrugged. The way some of the teachers were going on about this Sam, he could look forward to having him in his class in a few years.
There must be a decent age difference if Sam was being raised by his brother, though. The gossipers were saying the boy was eleven, so his brother had to be at least seven years older. That, or it was a highly unusual situation. Well, he’d find out eventually.
Bill turned his attention to other gossip. The high school band was having troubles with a few of the new song arrangements- David had been heard proclaiming that the trumpet parts made no sense- and a group of the kids were planning to rewrite the songs themselves.
Bill couldn’t wait to see what they’d come up with.
Bill was distracted from his eavesdropping as Mrs. Clara, the town’s oldest widow slid into the booth with him.
“Hello there, Mr. Cooper,” she said.
“Mrs. Clara,” Bill replied. “Please, just call me Bill.”
“Very well, Bill. Now, I have something I’d like to ask you. My youngest granddaughter is returning to Cazadore after being away for some time. Since you are nearer to her age than I am, I was hoping you could recommend some young men to perhaps introduce her to. She was rather cruelly treated by the last young man she met, some years ago.” The way she was looking at him left Bill in no doubt that she was hoping he would step up the plate. That was new. He’d never been part of a community long enough for the grandmothers to try to marry him to their granddaughters.
Bill smirked. “I know several, ma’am. How old is your granddaughter?”
“She’s just turned 28,” she said.
Bill nodded. “Leo over at Mercer’s would probably be willing to help, as would Neal Young- he works in the bookstore in Beaumont. Those two come to mind immediately…” he frowned. “Did your granddaughter go to school here?”
Mrs. Clara shook her head. “No, her parents moved away when she was 12.”
“I see,” he murmured. “Well, I will certainly think about this. Please introduce her to me when she arrives. If nothing else, I can show her around.” *And warn her that her grandmother had started a matchmaking campaign. *
He smiled faintly into his mug. It was nice that the people of the town accepted him. He wanted to stay for a while longer, even though he’d been here for almost 15 years.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
September 1995
Bill settled into his desk, trying very hard not to think about what that e-mail had said. There was no way it was The Dean Winchester, the one he’d heard about back when he’d… well, before.
That Dean Winchester was supposed to be still slogging his way through half a dozen schools a year, being molded into the perfect soldier by his father. It had to simply be a coincidence.
If it wasn’t… then someone had been going off script, and that wasn’t likely to have happened. Not for long. Someone would have noticed, and found a way to get things back on script. Bill wasn’t sure who would do it, but someone would. Unless the script had changed and he didn’t know.
Bill shook his head. No, no one was going off script. Too many of his… well, too many of them would not allow it.
Bill looked up and sighed. Enough. He had the books and a syllabus set aside for when the coincidentally named young man came in. And, it might be a good idea to mentor him. Such a young man, taking on a teaching job? He’d need help. Well, Bill was known to sometimes take students under his wing. This one could be another.
For an instant, he was startled by the sheer rightness he felt at that decision. *What is it, Father? * He prayed into the air. He didn’t expect much of a response. And the only response he did get back was a gentle feeling, as if someone had ruffled his hair. He smiled quietly. *Whatever you want, Father. Even now, you know that. *
Bill turned to his papers, those last few things that had to be done before the school year. Eventually, he noticed someone standing in the doorway.
*What is it, * he wondered as he put down his pen, *with kids showing up at the last possible minute to chat? * “Can I help you?” he asked the student.
The student stepped forward to reveal a boy with a charming, slightly dimpled smile. “Mr. Cooper? I’m Dean Winchester. Mr. Sorenson was supposed to contact you about me?”
“Ah yes,” Bill said. He stood up, to reveal that Dean was taller than he was and shook the boy’s hand. He had a strong grip. “Welcome to the trenches.” He didn’t let any of his shock show. This was The Dean Winchester, Michael’s vessel.
Dean chuckled. “Such as they are. Do you have the…”
“Yes, I have the syllabus and class calendar. They will show you all your assignments and when they're due. The textbooks are on the back shelf, and I expect to see you back here bright and early Monday morning." Now Bill understood why his Father had been so pleased at his decision. If he could help keep the boy from a dark fate, of course his Father would approve.
Dean picked up a textbook and added it to the other books in his arms, and then tucked the syllabus into the book. “Thank you, Mister Cooper. Just out of curiosity- how come you were expecting me and Mrs. Rose didn't seem to be?"
Bill chuckled. "Lily was gone all summer- only got back last Monday. My guess is she only skimmed through her messages."
Dean chuckled in response. "Thanks, Mister Cooper. See you Monday."
Bill smiled as he left. He went back to finishing up for his first class. It was hard to take his mind off what had happened though. Finally, just before the first bell rang, he set his pen down and looked up. “So that’s why I was drawn here. Dad, you’re even more of a Trickster than I am sometimes.”