Exiling Napoleon (PG, gen)
Well, here we are--the next installment of the Different Roads AU, and the inaugural post on our joint venture journal for the 'verse! There's a lot more to come, but for now, have a small slice of Dean's adventures during his first year at Johnson High.
Summary: Sic semper tyrannis--even the ones that aren't literal political dictators.
A/N from Rose: The first scene is based on a conversation I had IRL with one of my HS teachers (only the subject was biology). And the sign in Cooper's room is one that my AP European History teacher actually made, for the same reason.
Exiling Napoleon
By San Antonio Rose and Enola Jones
September 6, 1995
Mr. Cooper poked his head into Dean’s classroom after his third period students had left. “Hey, Dean. Talk to you a minute?”
Dean blinked. “Sure, Mr. C.”
Mr. Cooper walked in and shut the door. Dean stood up, worried, but Mr. Cooper waved him off. “No, no, sit down, sit down.” Then he perched himself on the end of the table closest to Dean’s desk.
Dean sat on his desk. “What’s up?”
Mr. Cooper sighed. “Dean... you don’t belong in my class.”
Dean felt himself go pale.
“Whoever graded your CLEP test must have had the wrong answer key. If I keep giving you assignments for that regular American History class, you’ll be bored to tears.”
Dean blinked once, twice... “Sir?”
“What you really need is the AP American History class. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to start offering it until next year. So in the meantime, I think you ought to switch over to my AP European History class. It’s still early enough in the year that you haven’t missed much; we’re just getting into the Roman Empire, and I can let you have a couple of weeks to get caught up.”
Dean couldn’t speak or sign for several seconds. “Seriously?” he finally managed. “AP? Seriously? That’s... I mean... those are for smart kids.”
Mr. Cooper frowned a little. “Who says you’re not smart?”
“But... but... Sammy’s the smart one.”
Mr. Cooper’s frown deepened. “Haven’t you ever been G/T tested?”
“What’s G/T?”
“Gifted and Talented.”
“Why would I be?”
Mr. Cooper muttered something that sounded like a Sumerian curse. “Dean, there is no reason for Sammy to be ‘the smart one’ just because he likes school. Granted, I’ve barely met your little brother, and I don’t doubt he’s bright. Doesn’t mean you’re not just as Gifted as he is.”
Dean ran a hand over his nose and mouth. “What... what if I can’t handle the work for the AP class?”
“We give it two weeks. You find yourself floundering, we switch you back to American, no harm, no foul. But I don’t think you will. I think you’ll be 100% on the Honors track before you know it.” Mr. Cooper smiled and stood. “And I’ll see if I can’t arrange for you to take that Iowa Test; might not make a difference in the long run, but it certainly won’t hurt to make it official.”
Dean nodded. “O-okay.”
Mr. Cooper patted his knee and headed for the door.
“Mr. C?”
Mr. Cooper turned. “Yeah?”
It was an effort, but Dean managed to say it aloud: “Thanks. You’re awesome.”
Mr. Cooper grinned at him and left.
“Something’s up with Dean,” a concerned Leo told Sammy when he got to the garage that afternoon. “Looked like he was about to cry when he got here, barely said two words to me or Old Man Mercer.”
Frowning, Sammy put his backpack in the office and walked over to Dean’s bay. From the way Dean was moving, Sammy wondered if he might have a concussion.
Dean looked up and managed a small smile. Hi, he signed.
Hi, Sammy signed back. You okay?
Dean sighed. Yes, just... stunned, I guess.
Why? What happened?
Cooper said I too smart for his class. Wants me take AP European History.
Sam gasped. “AP?! That’s... that’s awesome!”
Scared, Sammy. What if I fail?
“Dude, how could you fail?! You’re Dean Winchester! You don’t fail at anything!”
Not smart enough.
“Says who?!”
Dean’s eyes dropped.
Sammy scowled. “Don’t tell me Dad....”
Dean shook his head.
“But he never said you were smart, either.”
Dean seemed to wilt a little more.
“Dean... you’re the best teacher I’ve ever had. And you can’t teach well if you don’t understand what you’re trying to teach. So I think you can handle it. Heck, you get your current homework for that class done in, what, an hour?”
Dean shrugged a little.
“And European history-that’s like, knights and castles and stuff. You like that kind of thing, right? I mean, you liked the Chronicles of Narnia and The Once and Future King.”
Dean shrugged again and looked a little more hopeful.
“I can’t even keep the names straight in the Narnia books.”
Dean looked up then, surprised. Why not?
“It’s too complicated, man. I can’t remember who’s what kind of creature or what’s where... like those hoppy things on the star magician’s island....”
Coriakin, Dean signed without hesitation, and they were Dufflepuds.
“See?! If you can remember that, what makes you think you can’t learn real-world history?”
AP.
“That doesn’t have to mean hard. It just means faster.”
Sammy...
You can do it, Dean, Sammy signed. I know you can.
Dean looked at him for a moment, then pulled him into a tight hug, and Sammy thought he felt a few tears hit his shirt. “Okay,” Dean whispered. “I’ll try.”
Cooper looked up the next morning and smiled to see Dean in his doorway. “Come on in.”
“Hey, Mr. C.” Dean walked in, his usual self-confidence at a low ebb. “I’ve, um... I’ve decided I do want to try the AP class.”
“I thought you would. So I went ahead and got a copy of the syllabus. The book is the red one, and I will give you two weeks to make up what you missed. You’ve only missed two lectures, I’ll be glad to record the material for you.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”
Cooper went to get him the book and Dean glanced down at the syllabus - and his heart almost stopped.
Cooper saw his expression and frowned. “What?”
He set it down. “I can’t do this.”
“What? Of course you can. It’s not like it’s 200 pages a night.”
“But this... This....” He shook his head. “This is for smart kids.”
“We had this discussion yesterday, remember? You’re definitely smart enough.”
He took a deep breath. “I remember, but...” He shook his head.
Cooper shook his head sadly. “Dean, Dean, Dean. I don’t make this kind of offer to the average high school mook. You. Can. Do. This. Just stop listening to your fears and dig in.”
“When do I have this test you mentioned?”
“Ah, next month sometime, probably. I still need to set it up with the district.”
He took a shaky breath and Cooper realized he was nervous about the test.
“Dean, it’s not like the test is for a grade or anything. It’s not even that much about what you know, more how you think. Spotting patterns, making analogies, that sort of thing.”
He looked at Cooper. “Say what?”
“Typical example: Piece of paper’s folded in quarters, and there are two holes punched in it-you’re given a picture. What does it look like when it’s unfolded? You’ve got four pictures to choose from.” Cooper shrugged. “I think it’s kind of fun, personally.”
Fears allayed slightly, Dean picked the syllabus back up and perused it.
“Now, the AP exam is in April,” Cooper continued. “You’re not required to take that, and it won’t affect your grade, but it would be a good idea. I’ll be sure you have some practice tests to work through beforehand, and we could get together on Saturdays if you find you’re going to need help with the essay style.”
Dean nodded.
Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll record those lectures tonight, get you the tapes tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“Go get ’em, tiger.” Cooper winked.
Dean smiled shakily and headed to his own classroom.
Daphne, who was early as usual, gasped in delight when she saw what he was holding when he walked in. “You’re taking AP European History now?!”
Dean froze, looking down at the book. “Yeah... just transferred. Why?”
Daphne actually squealed. “I want to take that class next year SO BADLY! It sounds like SO MUCH FUN!!”
His eyes widened and his hands flew before he realized that she couldn’t understand much yet. “... seriously?” he asked.
She nodded. “Seriously.”
“I’m not sure I can do this, Daphne.”
“Sure you can, Mr. Winchester. Shoot, I bet you’ll blow the curve.”
“Really?”
She blinked, surprised that he was so unsure. “You speak four languages. Most people can barely manage one.”
“... Are you serious?” He blinked suddenly. “Wait, who told you I speak four languages? I thought that was private information between teachers, or something...”
Daphne blushed. “Dad was worried, so he talked to Mr. Sorensen.”
“He could have talked to me.”
“Well, if you’d come to a football game once in a while....” But the twinkle in her eye told Dean she was teasing.
Dean sighed, grinning a little. “I’ve got some catching up to do.”
“I hope you enjoy the class, Mr. Winchester. It really does look like a lot of fun.”
He smiled and began his own preparations as the other kids filed in.
And Daphne silently added another entry to the mental list of things she really, really liked about her super-handsome ASL teacher.
Two weeks later, Dean asked after he dismissed the first period class, “Tricia and Daphne, please remain for a few minutes?”
The girls glanced at each other nervously and stayed seated while everyone else left.
Dean pulled out a paper and slid it to them. “I’m turning this in to Cooper today. What do you think?” It was his first assignment - the one that was due. It was an overview and comparison of the two cultures they’d been studying, Greece and Rome.
The girls read through it together, eyes growing wider as they went along. When they reached the end, they looked at each other, then at him... and grinned as they gave him two thumbs up.
Dean’s face lit and he took the paper back. Thanks, girls!
And as he headed off to Cooper’s classroom, it struck Daphne that, despite the fact Dean was her teacher, at that moment, he looked no older than his 16 years.
There really was a kid behind the cocky smile and the competent, flying hands. A kid her age.
She sighed wistfully, and Tricia said, “Oh, don’t tell me.”
“What?” Daphne asked, frowning.
“You have a crush on Mr. Winchester.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Tricia grinned, then sobered. “You know he couldn’t date you right now even if he wanted to.”
“I know. That’s fine. That doesn’t mean I can’t be his friend.”
Tricia looked out the door as she gathered her books. “He does need friends, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” Daphne said. “And we’ll be his friends.”
Tricia beamed and hugged her.
The next morning, it was Dean’s turn to be surprised as Cooper appeared in his doorway.
“Thought you’d want this back,” Cooper said, his face carefully neutral as he set the paper on Dean’s desk. “Grade’s on the last page.”
Dean just stared at it like it was a snake sitting there rattling at him. Slowly, he opened the paper and turned it to the last page.
And gasped.
Loudly.
There, in pencil, were words no teacher had ever, ever written on a paper of his:
You, sir, are brilliant. A
“What... What is ... I haven’t... are y-you serious?”
Cooper grinned at him. “Absolutely. Best paper I’ve read all semester.”
“I just .... It just made sense....”
“Exactly! Made perfect sense to me, too!”
Dean started to grin. He felt for the first time like he could actually do this.
Until Cooper asked, “Can you meet me after school Friday? In my room? The proctor will be here then to administer your test.”
Dean’s smile faltered. “Uh....”
“If we could find the results of your previous tests, that would be easier, but you didn’t really take them, did you?” Cooper’s amber eyes seem to be boring right through him. “You just faked your way through to stay under the radar.”
Dean looked down at the desk. “We moved so much...” he whispered.
“That it just made sense to be average or below average. And let all the attention go to Sammy,” Cooper nodded. “After all, you were the protector of ‘the smart one’. Did you ever feel bad that nobody seemed to realize you were just as smart as Sammy?”
Dean stared at the desk miserably. He didn’t know what to say.
“You can shine now, Dean. You’re not going anywhere. You can shine now without overshadowing Sammy. See-Sammy already shines and always will. Now, it’s Dean’s turn to shine.”
Dean looked up at him then. “You really think I can?”
“I know you can, Dean. Know who else knows you can do this?”
Dean shook his head, still visibly stunned.
“Sammy.”
Dean gawped at him.
Cooper shrugged. “I happened to overhear a little of your conversation the other day. But hey, if the one person in this town who knows you better than anyone thinks you can do this, you oughta listen to him.”
“This... this is....” Dean found himself swiping at his eyes. He didn’t cry. He did NOT cry.
“Hey.” Cooper put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“No,” he breathed, hating that it came out a small sob. “It’s not. It’s really, really not.”
“Why not? Talk to me, Deano.”
“Men don’t cry....”
“Baloney. Jesus wept.”
“Yeah, but wasn’t that when his friend died?”
“That’s one place the fact was recorded, sure, but don’t think it was the only time it happened. John goes on to say, doesn’t he, that if every detail of Jesus’ life were written down, the earth could not contain all the books?”
“I... I don’t know.”
Cooper rubbed Dean’s shoulder a little. “Crying is a normal human response to strong emotion. And besides that, you’re 16. It’s okay to be overwhelmed, to break down, to cry.”
No, Dean found himself signing. Not not not. And cringed.
But when Cooper rubbed his shoulder again, Dean finally looked back up at him... and there was no judgment in his eyes this time. Only sorrow and compassion.
And that did it. Suddenly he wasn’t ‘Mr. Winchester, ASL teacher’. Suddenly, he wasn’t Sammy’s incredible older brother.
Suddenly he was a 16-year-old boy who needed someone to love him.
And Cooper apparently sensed that shift, because he came around the desk and pulled Dean into a warm, comforting hug. Dean clung to him - and 12 years’ worth of tears came roaring out.
Cooper just held him and rubbed his back. “That’s it, Deano. Let it all out.”
It didn’t occur to Dean that it was the middle of the school day, even though his day was done. He just wept. And Cooper didn’t shush him, didn’t act anxious or uncomfortable. He just held him like they had all the time in the world.
An unknown amount of time passed before Dean’s tears abated. Face flaming red, he sat back.
Cooper handed him a handkerchief and said, “Hey. How ’bout me taking you to lunch? I can get you caught up on lectures a little more while we eat-or heck, we can talk cars for all I care.”
“Fraternization?”
Cooper scoffed. “Please. You’re a colleague.”
“And your student.”
“Who happens to be two weeks behind. C’mon, it’s my conference period. I just happen to want to confer at Maggie’s for a change.”
Dean stood up, put his ‘at home work’ in his case, and grabbed his leather jacket.
“We should take two cars, I guess,” Cooper added as they walked out of the room. “That way I won’t have to drive you back and make you late for work.”
“Thanks.”
“And... if you want to wash your face before you head over, I won’t mind.” Cooper smiled, clapped him on the back, and walked away with a cheerful “See you over there!”
Dean showed up at Maggie’s, freshly scrubbed, fifteen minutes later. Cooper had just ordered a large French toast with sweet tea, which seemed an odd combination. Dean sat down and ordered a bacon cheeseburger before the waitress walked away.
“What, you have a mouthful of sweet teeth?” he asked.
“It’s been said,” Cooper replied with a wink. “So! How far did you get on the reading last night?”
“Mmmph. I think I’m bogged down around Caligula and Nero.”
“Ooh. Fun characters, those two. You ever hear about the time Nero told the Senate he was going to quash a rebellion by singing?”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “... seriously?”
“OH, yeah. Guy was loony tunes. Kicked his wife to death because she dared to mention that he’d dropped a prop when he was on stage, even though she was trying to make him feel better about it.”
And from there he launched into a lecture on two of Rome’s most infamous emperors that was just barely safe for mealtime discussion. Dean was enthralled. And the questions he asked were probing, but genuine - showing the intelligence Cooper had always suspected lurked under that rough exterior he showed the world.
About the time the waitress returned with the bill, Cooper shook his head and chuckled. “I wish you were able to sit in on class once in a while, Dean. Too many of these kids are still afraid to ask questions because they don’t want to sound stupid.”
“Yeah, that’s what I don’t miss at all.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I enjoy learning, Mr. Cooper. I enjoy finding out new things. I don’t enjoy watching a bunch of high school phonies and expecting to interact with them.”
Cooper nodded. “They’re not all phonies, mind you. A few of ’em can even handle intelligent conversation for more than five minutes. But I can totally understand your feeling that way.”
“I’d rather hang out here, with the cool kids.” He winked.
Cooper laughed at that. “I like you, Dean. I really do.”
“Thanks, Mr. C.”
“Go on, I don’t want to make you late for work.”
“You’re not. I’m fine.”
Cooper glanced at his watch and grimaced. “I’m not. Next class starts in ten minutes.”
He laughed. “Then you better head out!”
Cooper laughed and stood, reaching across the table to ruffle Dean’s hair. “You’re a good egg, Winchester. I’m glad to have you in my class.”
Dean huffed and ran his hands through his hair. “Now I know how Sammy feels,” he grumbled.
Cooper laughed heartily and left.
Dean got caught up over the next few weeks. He turned in another paper and he managed to get his classes through two quizzes and a quarter-year exam. Grading exams took longer, because they were on videotape. He had almost forgotten about the Iowa Test by the time the results came in. But Cooper made sure to bring them to him personally.
As Cooper walked in, Dean looked up from his last exam. “I’ve got four passing and two dismally failing. Briggs and Jefferson sign like they’re trying to take off.”
Cooper snorted. “Considering the wingspan on those two, they wouldn’t get very far if they did.”
He laughed. “Okay, so...” He marked down Briggs’s grade and shut off the VCR, ejecting the tape. “So what can I do for you today?”
“Just dropped by to give you this.” Cooper handed him a single sheet of paper.
“What’s this?” Dean took it, eyes going huge and face going pale as he read the letterhead. He swallowed hard and let his eyes travel down the page. A lot of the words and numbers didn’t mean much to him, but there was one phrase that made him gasp: “98th Percentile.”
“Yep,” Cooper nodded when Dean looked up at him again. “It’s official. You’re Gifted and Twisted.”
“Gifted? I’m... I’M... I’m Gifted?”
“Absolutely.”
“Sammy needs to take this test.”
Cooper shrugged. “I’ll call Stacy over at the junior high, have her look into it.”
“Thanks.” He touched the paper. “I’m really... this isn’t a dream, is it?”
“I’ll pinch you if you really want me to.”
Dean laughed. “No, sorry, that’s fine.” He looked up at Cooper. “So tell me about that sign in your classroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one about Napoleon.”
“‘Exile Napoleon by Christmas’?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we have to get through the Napoleonic Wars by Christmas break if we’re going to cover everything in time for the AP exam. Just figured the sign was a good reminder to all of us to keep pace.”
“Hmmm. It’s nearly Hallowe’en....” His nose wrinkled.
“And we’re in the 17th century. Right on schedule.” Cooper paused. “What’s wrong with Hallowe’en?”
“Not my favorite holiday. Let’s leave it at that right now.”
“Ah, I’m only in it for the candy anyway.”
Dean laughed. “There is that!” Then he went serious, looking at the test. “Gifted and Twisted, huh?”
Cooper shrugged. “It’s a term of endearment. But yes, you’re Gifted.”
He smiled. “I think we both are. Sammy and me. The Gifted Winchester Brothers.” He sighed. “On our own.”
“But not alone. And not friendless.” Cooper regarded him seriously. “Dean... if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me.”
Dean nodded. “I will, Mr. Cooper. Thank you.”
Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll let you get back to grading.”
“I’m done, actually. Briggs was the last.”
“Oh! Well, then, how ’bout some ice cream to celebrate surviving your first exam grading session?”
“You and your mouthful of sweet teeth. Let’s take Sammy out.” He smiled and waved the test results. “Because we’ve got some celebrating to do.”
Cooper grinned. “That’s the spirit! Meet you at La Paloma in... fifteen?”
“Make it thirty.” He grinned. “See you there.”
And as Cooper walked away whistling “La Marseillaise,” Dean couldn’t help feeling somehow... liberated.
Summary: Sic semper tyrannis--even the ones that aren't literal political dictators.
A/N from Rose: The first scene is based on a conversation I had IRL with one of my HS teachers (only the subject was biology). And the sign in Cooper's room is one that my AP European History teacher actually made, for the same reason.
Exiling Napoleon
By San Antonio Rose and Enola Jones
September 6, 1995
Mr. Cooper poked his head into Dean’s classroom after his third period students had left. “Hey, Dean. Talk to you a minute?”
Dean blinked. “Sure, Mr. C.”
Mr. Cooper walked in and shut the door. Dean stood up, worried, but Mr. Cooper waved him off. “No, no, sit down, sit down.” Then he perched himself on the end of the table closest to Dean’s desk.
Dean sat on his desk. “What’s up?”
Mr. Cooper sighed. “Dean... you don’t belong in my class.”
Dean felt himself go pale.
“Whoever graded your CLEP test must have had the wrong answer key. If I keep giving you assignments for that regular American History class, you’ll be bored to tears.”
Dean blinked once, twice... “Sir?”
“What you really need is the AP American History class. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to start offering it until next year. So in the meantime, I think you ought to switch over to my AP European History class. It’s still early enough in the year that you haven’t missed much; we’re just getting into the Roman Empire, and I can let you have a couple of weeks to get caught up.”
Dean couldn’t speak or sign for several seconds. “Seriously?” he finally managed. “AP? Seriously? That’s... I mean... those are for smart kids.”
Mr. Cooper frowned a little. “Who says you’re not smart?”
“But... but... Sammy’s the smart one.”
Mr. Cooper’s frown deepened. “Haven’t you ever been G/T tested?”
“What’s G/T?”
“Gifted and Talented.”
“Why would I be?”
Mr. Cooper muttered something that sounded like a Sumerian curse. “Dean, there is no reason for Sammy to be ‘the smart one’ just because he likes school. Granted, I’ve barely met your little brother, and I don’t doubt he’s bright. Doesn’t mean you’re not just as Gifted as he is.”
Dean ran a hand over his nose and mouth. “What... what if I can’t handle the work for the AP class?”
“We give it two weeks. You find yourself floundering, we switch you back to American, no harm, no foul. But I don’t think you will. I think you’ll be 100% on the Honors track before you know it.” Mr. Cooper smiled and stood. “And I’ll see if I can’t arrange for you to take that Iowa Test; might not make a difference in the long run, but it certainly won’t hurt to make it official.”
Dean nodded. “O-okay.”
Mr. Cooper patted his knee and headed for the door.
“Mr. C?”
Mr. Cooper turned. “Yeah?”
It was an effort, but Dean managed to say it aloud: “Thanks. You’re awesome.”
Mr. Cooper grinned at him and left.
“Something’s up with Dean,” a concerned Leo told Sammy when he got to the garage that afternoon. “Looked like he was about to cry when he got here, barely said two words to me or Old Man Mercer.”
Frowning, Sammy put his backpack in the office and walked over to Dean’s bay. From the way Dean was moving, Sammy wondered if he might have a concussion.
Dean looked up and managed a small smile. Hi, he signed.
Hi, Sammy signed back. You okay?
Dean sighed. Yes, just... stunned, I guess.
Why? What happened?
Cooper said I too smart for his class. Wants me take AP European History.
Sam gasped. “AP?! That’s... that’s awesome!”
Scared, Sammy. What if I fail?
“Dude, how could you fail?! You’re Dean Winchester! You don’t fail at anything!”
Not smart enough.
“Says who?!”
Dean’s eyes dropped.
Sammy scowled. “Don’t tell me Dad....”
Dean shook his head.
“But he never said you were smart, either.”
Dean seemed to wilt a little more.
“Dean... you’re the best teacher I’ve ever had. And you can’t teach well if you don’t understand what you’re trying to teach. So I think you can handle it. Heck, you get your current homework for that class done in, what, an hour?”
Dean shrugged a little.
“And European history-that’s like, knights and castles and stuff. You like that kind of thing, right? I mean, you liked the Chronicles of Narnia and The Once and Future King.”
Dean shrugged again and looked a little more hopeful.
“I can’t even keep the names straight in the Narnia books.”
Dean looked up then, surprised. Why not?
“It’s too complicated, man. I can’t remember who’s what kind of creature or what’s where... like those hoppy things on the star magician’s island....”
Coriakin, Dean signed without hesitation, and they were Dufflepuds.
“See?! If you can remember that, what makes you think you can’t learn real-world history?”
AP.
“That doesn’t have to mean hard. It just means faster.”
Sammy...
You can do it, Dean, Sammy signed. I know you can.
Dean looked at him for a moment, then pulled him into a tight hug, and Sammy thought he felt a few tears hit his shirt. “Okay,” Dean whispered. “I’ll try.”
Cooper looked up the next morning and smiled to see Dean in his doorway. “Come on in.”
“Hey, Mr. C.” Dean walked in, his usual self-confidence at a low ebb. “I’ve, um... I’ve decided I do want to try the AP class.”
“I thought you would. So I went ahead and got a copy of the syllabus. The book is the red one, and I will give you two weeks to make up what you missed. You’ve only missed two lectures, I’ll be glad to record the material for you.”
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”
Cooper went to get him the book and Dean glanced down at the syllabus - and his heart almost stopped.
Cooper saw his expression and frowned. “What?”
He set it down. “I can’t do this.”
“What? Of course you can. It’s not like it’s 200 pages a night.”
“But this... This....” He shook his head. “This is for smart kids.”
“We had this discussion yesterday, remember? You’re definitely smart enough.”
He took a deep breath. “I remember, but...” He shook his head.
Cooper shook his head sadly. “Dean, Dean, Dean. I don’t make this kind of offer to the average high school mook. You. Can. Do. This. Just stop listening to your fears and dig in.”
“When do I have this test you mentioned?”
“Ah, next month sometime, probably. I still need to set it up with the district.”
He took a shaky breath and Cooper realized he was nervous about the test.
“Dean, it’s not like the test is for a grade or anything. It’s not even that much about what you know, more how you think. Spotting patterns, making analogies, that sort of thing.”
He looked at Cooper. “Say what?”
“Typical example: Piece of paper’s folded in quarters, and there are two holes punched in it-you’re given a picture. What does it look like when it’s unfolded? You’ve got four pictures to choose from.” Cooper shrugged. “I think it’s kind of fun, personally.”
Fears allayed slightly, Dean picked the syllabus back up and perused it.
“Now, the AP exam is in April,” Cooper continued. “You’re not required to take that, and it won’t affect your grade, but it would be a good idea. I’ll be sure you have some practice tests to work through beforehand, and we could get together on Saturdays if you find you’re going to need help with the essay style.”
Dean nodded.
Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll record those lectures tonight, get you the tapes tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“Go get ’em, tiger.” Cooper winked.
Dean smiled shakily and headed to his own classroom.
Daphne, who was early as usual, gasped in delight when she saw what he was holding when he walked in. “You’re taking AP European History now?!”
Dean froze, looking down at the book. “Yeah... just transferred. Why?”
Daphne actually squealed. “I want to take that class next year SO BADLY! It sounds like SO MUCH FUN!!”
His eyes widened and his hands flew before he realized that she couldn’t understand much yet. “... seriously?” he asked.
She nodded. “Seriously.”
“I’m not sure I can do this, Daphne.”
“Sure you can, Mr. Winchester. Shoot, I bet you’ll blow the curve.”
“Really?”
She blinked, surprised that he was so unsure. “You speak four languages. Most people can barely manage one.”
“... Are you serious?” He blinked suddenly. “Wait, who told you I speak four languages? I thought that was private information between teachers, or something...”
Daphne blushed. “Dad was worried, so he talked to Mr. Sorensen.”
“He could have talked to me.”
“Well, if you’d come to a football game once in a while....” But the twinkle in her eye told Dean she was teasing.
Dean sighed, grinning a little. “I’ve got some catching up to do.”
“I hope you enjoy the class, Mr. Winchester. It really does look like a lot of fun.”
He smiled and began his own preparations as the other kids filed in.
And Daphne silently added another entry to the mental list of things she really, really liked about her super-handsome ASL teacher.
Two weeks later, Dean asked after he dismissed the first period class, “Tricia and Daphne, please remain for a few minutes?”
The girls glanced at each other nervously and stayed seated while everyone else left.
Dean pulled out a paper and slid it to them. “I’m turning this in to Cooper today. What do you think?” It was his first assignment - the one that was due. It was an overview and comparison of the two cultures they’d been studying, Greece and Rome.
The girls read through it together, eyes growing wider as they went along. When they reached the end, they looked at each other, then at him... and grinned as they gave him two thumbs up.
Dean’s face lit and he took the paper back. Thanks, girls!
And as he headed off to Cooper’s classroom, it struck Daphne that, despite the fact Dean was her teacher, at that moment, he looked no older than his 16 years.
There really was a kid behind the cocky smile and the competent, flying hands. A kid her age.
She sighed wistfully, and Tricia said, “Oh, don’t tell me.”
“What?” Daphne asked, frowning.
“You have a crush on Mr. Winchester.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Tricia grinned, then sobered. “You know he couldn’t date you right now even if he wanted to.”
“I know. That’s fine. That doesn’t mean I can’t be his friend.”
Tricia looked out the door as she gathered her books. “He does need friends, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” Daphne said. “And we’ll be his friends.”
Tricia beamed and hugged her.
The next morning, it was Dean’s turn to be surprised as Cooper appeared in his doorway.
“Thought you’d want this back,” Cooper said, his face carefully neutral as he set the paper on Dean’s desk. “Grade’s on the last page.”
Dean just stared at it like it was a snake sitting there rattling at him. Slowly, he opened the paper and turned it to the last page.
And gasped.
Loudly.
There, in pencil, were words no teacher had ever, ever written on a paper of his:
You, sir, are brilliant. A
“What... What is ... I haven’t... are y-you serious?”
Cooper grinned at him. “Absolutely. Best paper I’ve read all semester.”
“I just .... It just made sense....”
“Exactly! Made perfect sense to me, too!”
Dean started to grin. He felt for the first time like he could actually do this.
Until Cooper asked, “Can you meet me after school Friday? In my room? The proctor will be here then to administer your test.”
Dean’s smile faltered. “Uh....”
“If we could find the results of your previous tests, that would be easier, but you didn’t really take them, did you?” Cooper’s amber eyes seem to be boring right through him. “You just faked your way through to stay under the radar.”
Dean looked down at the desk. “We moved so much...” he whispered.
“That it just made sense to be average or below average. And let all the attention go to Sammy,” Cooper nodded. “After all, you were the protector of ‘the smart one’. Did you ever feel bad that nobody seemed to realize you were just as smart as Sammy?”
Dean stared at the desk miserably. He didn’t know what to say.
“You can shine now, Dean. You’re not going anywhere. You can shine now without overshadowing Sammy. See-Sammy already shines and always will. Now, it’s Dean’s turn to shine.”
Dean looked up at him then. “You really think I can?”
“I know you can, Dean. Know who else knows you can do this?”
Dean shook his head, still visibly stunned.
“Sammy.”
Dean gawped at him.
Cooper shrugged. “I happened to overhear a little of your conversation the other day. But hey, if the one person in this town who knows you better than anyone thinks you can do this, you oughta listen to him.”
“This... this is....” Dean found himself swiping at his eyes. He didn’t cry. He did NOT cry.
“Hey.” Cooper put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“No,” he breathed, hating that it came out a small sob. “It’s not. It’s really, really not.”
“Why not? Talk to me, Deano.”
“Men don’t cry....”
“Baloney. Jesus wept.”
“Yeah, but wasn’t that when his friend died?”
“That’s one place the fact was recorded, sure, but don’t think it was the only time it happened. John goes on to say, doesn’t he, that if every detail of Jesus’ life were written down, the earth could not contain all the books?”
“I... I don’t know.”
Cooper rubbed Dean’s shoulder a little. “Crying is a normal human response to strong emotion. And besides that, you’re 16. It’s okay to be overwhelmed, to break down, to cry.”
No, Dean found himself signing. Not not not. And cringed.
But when Cooper rubbed his shoulder again, Dean finally looked back up at him... and there was no judgment in his eyes this time. Only sorrow and compassion.
And that did it. Suddenly he wasn’t ‘Mr. Winchester, ASL teacher’. Suddenly, he wasn’t Sammy’s incredible older brother.
Suddenly he was a 16-year-old boy who needed someone to love him.
And Cooper apparently sensed that shift, because he came around the desk and pulled Dean into a warm, comforting hug. Dean clung to him - and 12 years’ worth of tears came roaring out.
Cooper just held him and rubbed his back. “That’s it, Deano. Let it all out.”
It didn’t occur to Dean that it was the middle of the school day, even though his day was done. He just wept. And Cooper didn’t shush him, didn’t act anxious or uncomfortable. He just held him like they had all the time in the world.
An unknown amount of time passed before Dean’s tears abated. Face flaming red, he sat back.
Cooper handed him a handkerchief and said, “Hey. How ’bout me taking you to lunch? I can get you caught up on lectures a little more while we eat-or heck, we can talk cars for all I care.”
“Fraternization?”
Cooper scoffed. “Please. You’re a colleague.”
“And your student.”
“Who happens to be two weeks behind. C’mon, it’s my conference period. I just happen to want to confer at Maggie’s for a change.”
Dean stood up, put his ‘at home work’ in his case, and grabbed his leather jacket.
“We should take two cars, I guess,” Cooper added as they walked out of the room. “That way I won’t have to drive you back and make you late for work.”
“Thanks.”
“And... if you want to wash your face before you head over, I won’t mind.” Cooper smiled, clapped him on the back, and walked away with a cheerful “See you over there!”
Dean showed up at Maggie’s, freshly scrubbed, fifteen minutes later. Cooper had just ordered a large French toast with sweet tea, which seemed an odd combination. Dean sat down and ordered a bacon cheeseburger before the waitress walked away.
“What, you have a mouthful of sweet teeth?” he asked.
“It’s been said,” Cooper replied with a wink. “So! How far did you get on the reading last night?”
“Mmmph. I think I’m bogged down around Caligula and Nero.”
“Ooh. Fun characters, those two. You ever hear about the time Nero told the Senate he was going to quash a rebellion by singing?”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “... seriously?”
“OH, yeah. Guy was loony tunes. Kicked his wife to death because she dared to mention that he’d dropped a prop when he was on stage, even though she was trying to make him feel better about it.”
And from there he launched into a lecture on two of Rome’s most infamous emperors that was just barely safe for mealtime discussion. Dean was enthralled. And the questions he asked were probing, but genuine - showing the intelligence Cooper had always suspected lurked under that rough exterior he showed the world.
About the time the waitress returned with the bill, Cooper shook his head and chuckled. “I wish you were able to sit in on class once in a while, Dean. Too many of these kids are still afraid to ask questions because they don’t want to sound stupid.”
“Yeah, that’s what I don’t miss at all.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I enjoy learning, Mr. Cooper. I enjoy finding out new things. I don’t enjoy watching a bunch of high school phonies and expecting to interact with them.”
Cooper nodded. “They’re not all phonies, mind you. A few of ’em can even handle intelligent conversation for more than five minutes. But I can totally understand your feeling that way.”
“I’d rather hang out here, with the cool kids.” He winked.
Cooper laughed at that. “I like you, Dean. I really do.”
“Thanks, Mr. C.”
“Go on, I don’t want to make you late for work.”
“You’re not. I’m fine.”
Cooper glanced at his watch and grimaced. “I’m not. Next class starts in ten minutes.”
He laughed. “Then you better head out!”
Cooper laughed and stood, reaching across the table to ruffle Dean’s hair. “You’re a good egg, Winchester. I’m glad to have you in my class.”
Dean huffed and ran his hands through his hair. “Now I know how Sammy feels,” he grumbled.
Cooper laughed heartily and left.
Dean got caught up over the next few weeks. He turned in another paper and he managed to get his classes through two quizzes and a quarter-year exam. Grading exams took longer, because they were on videotape. He had almost forgotten about the Iowa Test by the time the results came in. But Cooper made sure to bring them to him personally.
As Cooper walked in, Dean looked up from his last exam. “I’ve got four passing and two dismally failing. Briggs and Jefferson sign like they’re trying to take off.”
Cooper snorted. “Considering the wingspan on those two, they wouldn’t get very far if they did.”
He laughed. “Okay, so...” He marked down Briggs’s grade and shut off the VCR, ejecting the tape. “So what can I do for you today?”
“Just dropped by to give you this.” Cooper handed him a single sheet of paper.
“What’s this?” Dean took it, eyes going huge and face going pale as he read the letterhead. He swallowed hard and let his eyes travel down the page. A lot of the words and numbers didn’t mean much to him, but there was one phrase that made him gasp: “98th Percentile.”
“Yep,” Cooper nodded when Dean looked up at him again. “It’s official. You’re Gifted and Twisted.”
“Gifted? I’m... I’M... I’m Gifted?”
“Absolutely.”
“Sammy needs to take this test.”
Cooper shrugged. “I’ll call Stacy over at the junior high, have her look into it.”
“Thanks.” He touched the paper. “I’m really... this isn’t a dream, is it?”
“I’ll pinch you if you really want me to.”
Dean laughed. “No, sorry, that’s fine.” He looked up at Cooper. “So tell me about that sign in your classroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one about Napoleon.”
“‘Exile Napoleon by Christmas’?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we have to get through the Napoleonic Wars by Christmas break if we’re going to cover everything in time for the AP exam. Just figured the sign was a good reminder to all of us to keep pace.”
“Hmmm. It’s nearly Hallowe’en....” His nose wrinkled.
“And we’re in the 17th century. Right on schedule.” Cooper paused. “What’s wrong with Hallowe’en?”
“Not my favorite holiday. Let’s leave it at that right now.”
“Ah, I’m only in it for the candy anyway.”
Dean laughed. “There is that!” Then he went serious, looking at the test. “Gifted and Twisted, huh?”
Cooper shrugged. “It’s a term of endearment. But yes, you’re Gifted.”
He smiled. “I think we both are. Sammy and me. The Gifted Winchester Brothers.” He sighed. “On our own.”
“But not alone. And not friendless.” Cooper regarded him seriously. “Dean... if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me.”
Dean nodded. “I will, Mr. Cooper. Thank you.”
Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll let you get back to grading.”
“I’m done, actually. Briggs was the last.”
“Oh! Well, then, how ’bout some ice cream to celebrate surviving your first exam grading session?”
“You and your mouthful of sweet teeth. Let’s take Sammy out.” He smiled and waved the test results. “Because we’ve got some celebrating to do.”
Cooper grinned. “That’s the spirit! Meet you at La Paloma in... fifteen?”
“Make it thirty.” He grinned. “See you there.”
And as Cooper walked away whistling “La Marseillaise,” Dean couldn’t help feeling somehow... liberated.