Fic: Hedgehog Allies II
Hedgehog Rescue Allies II
By PaBurke
Summary/Challenge: Dean went to Hell and was hauled out of Perdition only to be turned into a 4/5-year-old version of himself. Now a ‘Verse.
Disclaimer: So not mine
Rating: teen-ish
spnspnawesomebobbyspnspn
As a part of the foster dad deal, Bobby had to prove that Dean was either in school, or learning enough at home that he didn’t need to go to school. With Dean still not talking at all, Bobby preferred to keep the boy home for a while. He wanted Dean behind the safety of the wards. It would be too easy for a demon or an angel or any other kind of supernatural being to get into the school.
Convincing the principal and the kindergarten teacher that Bobby was capable of teaching was a chore. Bobby knew in the back of his mind that the teacher’s assistant was working with Dean, no doubt trying to get him to speak. Bobby knew that Dean wouldn’t speak for her and concentrated Ms. Wilson and Mrs. Staltari. He was losing this argument and he couldn’t afford to lose. If they required Dean to be in school, Bobby would lose custody keeping him out. He couldn’t afford any hint of malfeasance on his part.
During the course of the argument, the assistant hurried out of the room and then back in. She did it again and this time snagged Mrs. Staltari. That abruptly shut up Ms. Wilson and Bobby who stopped to see whatever was about to happen. Dean handed the assistant a math worksheet and accepted another. The assistant glanced it over and handed it to Mrs. Staltari. Mrs. Staltari’s eyebrows disappeared into her big bangs. She was tiny, barely over five foot but she was as stern as a drill instructor. Bobby peeked over her shoulder and spotted long division.
Dean had impressed her. Somehow the assistant had gotten Dean to respond, probably by not trying force or trick him into speaking and just accepting him as he was at this point in time. Bobby eyed the young woman; very early twenties, probably this was part of her student teaching for her degree. She was in everyway exactly average: average height, weight (which was slightly heavy), average features. She wasn’t truly pretty, but she wasn’t ugly. She was the type that a person’s eyes naturally slid over because nothing stood out. Bobby would make a point of catching the woman’s name before they left. If nothing else, Bobby would send her flowers for stopping an argument that the hunter was losing.
Dean finished another math worksheet. This one was on the beginnings of algebra. The assistant again looked it over and smiled. “Another excellent job, Dean.” She handed it off to Mrs. Staltari.
The kindergarten teacher looked it over in a way that reminded Bobby of drill instructors looking at his bunk on Parris Island. “What about reading?”
The assistant straightened and handed Mrs. Staltari a book that would be far outside the realm of a normal five year old. “Pick a verb and he either acts it out or tries to draw it.” That explained the paper on Dean’s borrowed desk with all sorts of doodles on it. “Pick a noun and if he can find it in the room, he points at it.”
Mrs. Staltari looked impressed. She opened the book and flipped through it until she found a word she considered appropriate. She showed the word to Dean.
Dean looked at the word and then looked at Bobby. He was a little shy with all attention focused on him. He still must be feeling sick and tired, that was the only time he was reticent. He was wearing down to Bobby’s keen eye.
“If you do it,” Bobby cajoled, “we can go home and you don’t have to come to school for a while.”
Dean nodded shortly and took a deep breath. He stood and started pantomiming. He ‘put on’ a safety rig and ‘tied’ a knot around a ‘tree.’ Then he ‘backed’ up and ‘looked over an edge.’ Then he jumped back and ‘down.’
It was painfully obvious to Bobby that Dean was repelling. He waited until Mrs. Staltari complimented Dean’s knowledge.
“What’s next?” Bobby asked on Dean’s behalf.
“Spelling,” Mrs. Staltari declared.
Dean looked slightly defeated before getting that stubborn tilt to his chin.
“Ready,” Bobby asked the boy.
Dean nodded and looked to the teachers to direction.
Mrs. Staltari pointed to the front of the classroom. “Please write the words on the chalkboard.”
Dean walked up and picked up a piece of chalk. He stood poised with the chalk as high as he could reach and waited.
“Lamb,” Mrs. Staltari enunciated. “Mary had a little lamb.”
Dean wrote L-A-M-B.
“Elephant,” Ms. Wilson took her turn. “Dumbo was an elephant.”
Dean, with his tongue sticking out slightly, wrote out the word.
“Miss Smith,” Mrs. Staltari prompted. Bobby felt a moment of pity that the assistant had a nondescript name to go with her nondescript appearance.
Miss Smith said, “Necessary. This testing is necessary.”
Dean wrote the word. It was spelled right but the ‘s’s were backwards. Bobby blinked. He had never considered dyslexia on top of every other difficulty. Dyslexia was something Dean would have had to deal with the first time as a child. Bobby wondered if John had known and if John had helped the silent little boy. The teachers were silent on a pretty obvious problem. The teachers were silent. Bobby realized that all of the teachers and Dean were looking at him and waiting.
He was supposed to suggest a word. “Ghost,” he blurted out. The teachers had also spoken a sentence including the word, but ‘Dean’s dad fought ghosts’ was not acceptable. Thankfully, Dean had written out the word before Bobby could refer to Casper. Dean stood back, happened to glance at NECESSARY and realized his mistake. He blushed slightly, wiped out the ‘s’s with his hand and fixed them.
Bobby saw the sag in his shoulders and the glassy eyes. “Can this wait,” he asked the women. “He’s still sick. I even have a doctor’s note from Dr. Dave Gingerich. Dean’s supposed to rest for at least three more days.”
“We can delay this a month,” Ms. Wilson said. “But I have conditions.”
Both Dean and Bobby straightened to listen.
“One,” she ticked off her first finger. “At the end of the month, Dean comes in for a true placement test. That will include everything covered today, science, history and geography. Two, Dean has to be enrolled in some sort of weekly activity with his peers. I would prefer upwards of two hours a week, but I am aware of the limitations in the area. One hour minimum. I’d prefer a group activity but there must be at least ten other children in the class at the same time. Baseball this summer, or boy scouts are acceptable. At all times of the year, Dean must come out of that junk yard you hide yourself and meet with kids his own age. Three, you must have a written lesson plan to show me when Dean takes his tests. At that point, we will schedule regular tests to ensure that Dean is following your lesson plan. You can home school him and I will sign off on it for Social Services.”
Bobby nodded. Nothing was truly objectionable. He was pretty sure that the principal was overstepping her state-given bounds, but if in exchange she wrote a glowing letter to Child Services, Bobby could accept it. “Is that it?”
“No,” Ms. Wilson smiled. “You also have to teach Dean Japanese. Include that in your lesson plan.”
Bobby barely held back a growl. How the hell had the woman known that Bobby was fluent in Japanese? The other problem was how was Dean’s mind wired? He obviously remembered facts from before, but would he be able to pick up new information? Bobby looked at Dean. “Does that sound fair to you?”
Dean looked up at Bobby a little confused.
Bobby was a bit embarrassed but shrugged. “Yeah. I know it.”
Dean’s smile was proud and ‘you are cool’ and damn if Bobby didn’t puff up a bit at the admiration.
“Can we do as Ms. Wilson asked?” Bobby addressed Dean.
Dean nodded slowly.
“Do we accept her terms?” Bobby was treating the boy more as a silent adult and Dean seemed to respond best to it.
Dean nodded again, a little firmer.
“All right then.” Bobby looked at Ms. Wilson and held out his hand. “You have a deal.”
“Good.” Ms. Wilson shook his hand. “Dean is obviously a very bright boy. He needs to be challenged and to feel safe and normal. A public school, especially one with as limited budget as us, might not be the best choice for Dean.”
“I am trying to do the best for Dean,” Bobby reminded her.
“I’m starting to believe it.”
Bobby shook hands with Mrs. Staltari and thanked her for her time. He also shook hands with Miss Smith. He thanked her profusely for her assistance. She smiled and offered him a business card. With a slight blush, she told him that her boyfriend ran a karate dojo Dean might like. Bobby promised to look it up; it was the least he could do for the woman since she had helped Dean so much. Unlike other times, Dean wasn’t right there wanting to shake everyone’s hand like a man. He was pressed to Bobby’s side, head drooping. Bobby picked him up. Dean fussed, but a strong hand on his back and the words ‘you had a rough day’ quieted him. Bobby relayed his thanks and his good-byes.
Dean was asleep before Bobby walked out to his truck.
spnspnawesomebobbyspnspn
By PaBurke
Summary/Challenge: Dean went to Hell and was hauled out of Perdition only to be turned into a 4/5-year-old version of himself. Now a ‘Verse.
Disclaimer: So not mine
Rating: teen-ish
spnspnawesomebobbyspnspn
As a part of the foster dad deal, Bobby had to prove that Dean was either in school, or learning enough at home that he didn’t need to go to school. With Dean still not talking at all, Bobby preferred to keep the boy home for a while. He wanted Dean behind the safety of the wards. It would be too easy for a demon or an angel or any other kind of supernatural being to get into the school.
Convincing the principal and the kindergarten teacher that Bobby was capable of teaching was a chore. Bobby knew in the back of his mind that the teacher’s assistant was working with Dean, no doubt trying to get him to speak. Bobby knew that Dean wouldn’t speak for her and concentrated Ms. Wilson and Mrs. Staltari. He was losing this argument and he couldn’t afford to lose. If they required Dean to be in school, Bobby would lose custody keeping him out. He couldn’t afford any hint of malfeasance on his part.
During the course of the argument, the assistant hurried out of the room and then back in. She did it again and this time snagged Mrs. Staltari. That abruptly shut up Ms. Wilson and Bobby who stopped to see whatever was about to happen. Dean handed the assistant a math worksheet and accepted another. The assistant glanced it over and handed it to Mrs. Staltari. Mrs. Staltari’s eyebrows disappeared into her big bangs. She was tiny, barely over five foot but she was as stern as a drill instructor. Bobby peeked over her shoulder and spotted long division.
Dean had impressed her. Somehow the assistant had gotten Dean to respond, probably by not trying force or trick him into speaking and just accepting him as he was at this point in time. Bobby eyed the young woman; very early twenties, probably this was part of her student teaching for her degree. She was in everyway exactly average: average height, weight (which was slightly heavy), average features. She wasn’t truly pretty, but she wasn’t ugly. She was the type that a person’s eyes naturally slid over because nothing stood out. Bobby would make a point of catching the woman’s name before they left. If nothing else, Bobby would send her flowers for stopping an argument that the hunter was losing.
Dean finished another math worksheet. This one was on the beginnings of algebra. The assistant again looked it over and smiled. “Another excellent job, Dean.” She handed it off to Mrs. Staltari.
The kindergarten teacher looked it over in a way that reminded Bobby of drill instructors looking at his bunk on Parris Island. “What about reading?”
The assistant straightened and handed Mrs. Staltari a book that would be far outside the realm of a normal five year old. “Pick a verb and he either acts it out or tries to draw it.” That explained the paper on Dean’s borrowed desk with all sorts of doodles on it. “Pick a noun and if he can find it in the room, he points at it.”
Mrs. Staltari looked impressed. She opened the book and flipped through it until she found a word she considered appropriate. She showed the word to Dean.
Dean looked at the word and then looked at Bobby. He was a little shy with all attention focused on him. He still must be feeling sick and tired, that was the only time he was reticent. He was wearing down to Bobby’s keen eye.
“If you do it,” Bobby cajoled, “we can go home and you don’t have to come to school for a while.”
Dean nodded shortly and took a deep breath. He stood and started pantomiming. He ‘put on’ a safety rig and ‘tied’ a knot around a ‘tree.’ Then he ‘backed’ up and ‘looked over an edge.’ Then he jumped back and ‘down.’
It was painfully obvious to Bobby that Dean was repelling. He waited until Mrs. Staltari complimented Dean’s knowledge.
“What’s next?” Bobby asked on Dean’s behalf.
“Spelling,” Mrs. Staltari declared.
Dean looked slightly defeated before getting that stubborn tilt to his chin.
“Ready,” Bobby asked the boy.
Dean nodded and looked to the teachers to direction.
Mrs. Staltari pointed to the front of the classroom. “Please write the words on the chalkboard.”
Dean walked up and picked up a piece of chalk. He stood poised with the chalk as high as he could reach and waited.
“Lamb,” Mrs. Staltari enunciated. “Mary had a little lamb.”
Dean wrote L-A-M-B.
“Elephant,” Ms. Wilson took her turn. “Dumbo was an elephant.”
Dean, with his tongue sticking out slightly, wrote out the word.
“Miss Smith,” Mrs. Staltari prompted. Bobby felt a moment of pity that the assistant had a nondescript name to go with her nondescript appearance.
Miss Smith said, “Necessary. This testing is necessary.”
Dean wrote the word. It was spelled right but the ‘s’s were backwards. Bobby blinked. He had never considered dyslexia on top of every other difficulty. Dyslexia was something Dean would have had to deal with the first time as a child. Bobby wondered if John had known and if John had helped the silent little boy. The teachers were silent on a pretty obvious problem. The teachers were silent. Bobby realized that all of the teachers and Dean were looking at him and waiting.
He was supposed to suggest a word. “Ghost,” he blurted out. The teachers had also spoken a sentence including the word, but ‘Dean’s dad fought ghosts’ was not acceptable. Thankfully, Dean had written out the word before Bobby could refer to Casper. Dean stood back, happened to glance at NECESSARY and realized his mistake. He blushed slightly, wiped out the ‘s’s with his hand and fixed them.
Bobby saw the sag in his shoulders and the glassy eyes. “Can this wait,” he asked the women. “He’s still sick. I even have a doctor’s note from Dr. Dave Gingerich. Dean’s supposed to rest for at least three more days.”
“We can delay this a month,” Ms. Wilson said. “But I have conditions.”
Both Dean and Bobby straightened to listen.
“One,” she ticked off her first finger. “At the end of the month, Dean comes in for a true placement test. That will include everything covered today, science, history and geography. Two, Dean has to be enrolled in some sort of weekly activity with his peers. I would prefer upwards of two hours a week, but I am aware of the limitations in the area. One hour minimum. I’d prefer a group activity but there must be at least ten other children in the class at the same time. Baseball this summer, or boy scouts are acceptable. At all times of the year, Dean must come out of that junk yard you hide yourself and meet with kids his own age. Three, you must have a written lesson plan to show me when Dean takes his tests. At that point, we will schedule regular tests to ensure that Dean is following your lesson plan. You can home school him and I will sign off on it for Social Services.”
Bobby nodded. Nothing was truly objectionable. He was pretty sure that the principal was overstepping her state-given bounds, but if in exchange she wrote a glowing letter to Child Services, Bobby could accept it. “Is that it?”
“No,” Ms. Wilson smiled. “You also have to teach Dean Japanese. Include that in your lesson plan.”
Bobby barely held back a growl. How the hell had the woman known that Bobby was fluent in Japanese? The other problem was how was Dean’s mind wired? He obviously remembered facts from before, but would he be able to pick up new information? Bobby looked at Dean. “Does that sound fair to you?”
Dean looked up at Bobby a little confused.
Bobby was a bit embarrassed but shrugged. “Yeah. I know it.”
Dean’s smile was proud and ‘you are cool’ and damn if Bobby didn’t puff up a bit at the admiration.
“Can we do as Ms. Wilson asked?” Bobby addressed Dean.
Dean nodded slowly.
“Do we accept her terms?” Bobby was treating the boy more as a silent adult and Dean seemed to respond best to it.
Dean nodded again, a little firmer.
“All right then.” Bobby looked at Ms. Wilson and held out his hand. “You have a deal.”
“Good.” Ms. Wilson shook his hand. “Dean is obviously a very bright boy. He needs to be challenged and to feel safe and normal. A public school, especially one with as limited budget as us, might not be the best choice for Dean.”
“I am trying to do the best for Dean,” Bobby reminded her.
“I’m starting to believe it.”
Bobby shook hands with Mrs. Staltari and thanked her for her time. He also shook hands with Miss Smith. He thanked her profusely for her assistance. She smiled and offered him a business card. With a slight blush, she told him that her boyfriend ran a karate dojo Dean might like. Bobby promised to look it up; it was the least he could do for the woman since she had helped Dean so much. Unlike other times, Dean wasn’t right there wanting to shake everyone’s hand like a man. He was pressed to Bobby’s side, head drooping. Bobby picked him up. Dean fussed, but a strong hand on his back and the words ‘you had a rough day’ quieted him. Bobby relayed his thanks and his good-byes.
Dean was asleep before Bobby walked out to his truck.
spnspnawesomebobbyspnspn