This is the second to last chapter, the last of which will hopefully be done before long. Hopefully. Feel free to leave comments as well. Happy New Year and enjoy!

Cara Finn remembered the day that Samuel Winchester first walked into her fourth grade classroom- September 4, 1991. She had been reviewing her emails (mostly from concerned parents and news of staff meetings) when a slight noise made her look up from her computer. Standing in the doorway was a small boy (for his age, at least). His brown hair was combed, and he was relatively clean, if you didn't count the large, wrinkled flannel or the long red cut on his cheek. He stood there for a minute, clearly unsure of what to do. It was 7:13- nearly a half hour before school began.

Cara looked at him, wondering if he was there for class. It hardly seemed likely, being so early. After two minutes of nothing, however, she teared herself away from her work and approached the boy slowly.

"Hey there; are you here for class?" She said in her softest voice, smiling.

The boy looked up, giving Cara a quick onceover. He eyed the room suspiciously, then looked back to Cara.

"Yes." He said simply. "Are you Ms. Finn?"

"That's me." She led him inside and took the seating chart that she had completed an hour ago. "What's your name?"

"Sam Winchester. I'm new here."

"Aah, that explains why you're not on the chart. Well, why don't you have a seat in this desk here?" She led him to towards the back of the room and gestured to a desk, and after a moment asked, "You know you're early, right? Are your parents here?"

Sam Winchester looked uncomfortable for a moment, his dark eyes shifting nervously. "N-no, but my brother wanted to get here early." He offered no other explanation than that.

"Well, in that case, I hope you don't mind if I get a little more work done before class. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" Unsure of what to do, Cara awkwardly made her way back to her desk. Despite her best intentions, she couldn't help but stare covertly at Sam.

It was easy to see that he was uncomfortable with his new surroundings. His eyes shifted and he looked up every few seconds to look around the room. A few minutes after he sat down, he pulled out a piece of paper and began to draw. Cara watched him, mesmerized by the determined look he had when he wrote. So much so, in fact, that she didn't realize that kids were starting to trickle in.

Cara snapped out of her reverie and stood up, pulling the seating chart onto the middle desk in the first row. She calmly showed the other students to their seats and introduced herself, but her attention was always pulled back towards Sam. By now, the students were flooding in, and his head was up and alert, his eyes searching, studying each of them. He turned the paper on his desk over, hiding whatever he was drawing.

Before she knew it, it was 7:45, and the first bell rang. The class was almost full, and everyone was talking eagerly about their summers – all except Sam Winchester, who kept his head down, almost as if to disappear.

Cara stood up, and almost immediately the attention of the class was on her (minus a few kids talking here and there). She smiled at them and quickly wrote her name of the board, introduced herself, and pulled up her webpage. She handed out the class syllabus (due by Friday!), and set off on rules, expectations, and whatever else you could think of that might be involved with the first day of school. During second hour, her art class, she gave them a worksheet to fill out and a drawing sheet, then the rest of the hour was theirs to talk about what they like. Sam Winchester kept to himself.

Soon enough, the bell rang, and second period was over. Each student stood up and turned in their worksheet, then filed out to their next block of hours. Sam was the last one to leave, and after a moment of contemplation she pulled him off to the side.

"Hey Sam," she said, "If there's anything you want to talk about or need help with, don't be afraid to come talk to me, ok?"

There was a moment of silence. Oh God, was that the wrong thing to say?

Sam stood still for what seemed like much longer to Cara than it really was, but he eventually looked up at her and gave her a weak smile – the first time she'd seen him smile. "Thanks."

Cara Finn watched Sam Winchester leave without another word.

Sam Winchester was absent on the second day of school.

The night of the second day, Cara had reviewed her students' worksheets. The point of them was to tell her a little bit about the way the class would run, and the personalities of the students. Simple Q&A. The last one belonged to none other than Winchester.

She held his for a moment, silently pondering the story of this quiet kid. He seemed nice enough at first, but things could easily change. Who knew this kid's background?

Name: Samuel (Sam) Winchester

Born: May 2, 1983

Age: 10

Favorite subject: Math

Favorite movie: Blade Runner

Favorite animal: -

...

Cara looked at his sheet for a long time after she read it. What fourth grader's favorite movie was Blade Runner? That seemed a little heavy to show someone that young. After that, however, the rest of the sheet wasn't filled out. What could he have been doing that whole class time?

Cara thought about her strange new student for the rest of the night.

The third day was much like the first, except that Sam came only five minutes before first bell rang, and they were starting to learn things today. Being an English and art teacher, Cara liked to get creative with her lesson plans, to make them less boring. She studied Sam as he reviewed the note sheets that she'd given the class, mainly on vocab and simple grammar. He looked perplexed until she explained, and after that he seemed to get it just fine. The only problem was that what he was confused about was simple review from last year – something that he should already know. First hour went by with this review, until the class changed direction at the second bell.

Most of the class left, and a new group of people came in. Sam and another girl, Carley, who sat next to him, stayed for the art class (which was actually a 5th grade class; a 4th grader could only get in after discussion with a counselor) as new faces sat themselves at different desks. No one spoke to the new boy, and the new boy spoke to no one. That class went by much like the one before it, but instead of worksheets they drew pictures.

At the end, Sam left without a word.

At the end of the day, Cara sat at her desk and looked over her students' papers. Her eyes ran over Sam's paper - completely filled out, 100%. She smiled to herself; maybe this year wouldn't be so bad for him.

"Ms. Finn?"

Cara's head shot up. "Sam!" She fixed the papers in front of her, quickly shifting his to the bottom of the pile. "What can I do for you?"

Sam stood awkwardly in front of her desk as another person entered the room. He was much taller, probably a 7th or 8th grader, and he wore a brown leather jacket. He looked at Sam, and then at Cara.

"Ms. Finn, this is my brother, Dean." Sam looked up at his brother, his eyes glowing. He obviously looked up him, and from the way Dean regarded his brother, they both loved each other very much.

Dean looked Cara in the eye, and then held out his hand, "Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too!" Cara took his hand, startled at the sudden introduction.

"Ms. Finn, if anything ever happens to my brother, please, let me know." Dean's voice was dead serious.

Cara, confused, nodded. "Of course." It was almost a question.

"Thank you." And with that, the two of them walked out, Dean's arm around his brother's shoulder.

Cara Finn sat at her desk, thinking about everything and nothing at all.

Five weeks passed in much the same way. Well, almost five. At the end of the fourth week, rumors started flying about the strange, quiet new kid. His odd habits didn't help his case, either. For example, he had a habit of drawing strange symbols on some of his papers. He kept them hidden at first, on only a few papers and on the back of his hand. But it didn't last long.

It started on a Friday, right after school ended. Sam was going to find his brother, who was in gym class, when he was approached by an older boy- a 7th grader. He found Sam walking in the hall by himself. Another kid who happened to be in the hall realized that it was his chance to do something, so he began audio recording.

Boy: Hey, you. Yeah you. Stop!

Sam: -

Boy: Hey, what was that you were drawing a few days ago? Are you some sort of devil worshiper?

Sam: N-

Boy: You're a freak, ya know that?! My sister saw what you were drawing- symbols and stuff. You're going to hell, ya know?

Girl: Get away from him. *Punching sounds* No! Stop!

Boy: Freakin' devil worshiper!

Sam: *crying*

Girl: *shuffling sounds* Get the hell away from him, Gabe! What the hell is your problem?

Gabe: And you! You're not getting off easy for helping him!

Girl: *more shuffling and dragging* You son of a bitch, just leave him alone!

Boy #2: What the fuck do you think you're doing to my brother you son of a bitch?

Gabe: *Punching sounds* *whimpering* No… no stop please…

Sam: Dean stop!

Dean: Sammy, are you hurt? *rustling* Hey, you, what the hell are you doing with that recorder? Give me that - *end of recording*

News of the incident spread like wildfire over the next week. Cara Finn was informed of the incident relatively quickly, as it was noted that she was one of the only teachers who seemed to have any relationship with Sam Winchester. Not surprisingly, Sam and his brother were absent the next week.

When Sam did come back, he was picked on incessantly. It was around this time as well that Sam began to speak with Cara. Little things at first, like "good morning" or "have a good day," but he soon began asking her questions, and though Cara didn't ask him anything personal, she began to know the real Sam Winchester. He began to trust her more and more, until she felt that it was time to ask him some questions.

"So Sam, what's life like at your home?" She asked after school one day.

Sam looked up at her, surprised, and then at his desk. He seemed… ashamed. "It's fine." He said simply.

Cara looked at him seriously. "Look," she began slowly, "I know you're not much for talking, but you come into school with new cuts and bruises all the time. It's beginning to worry me. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

Sam stayed silent for a moment. His eyes shifted as he decided what he would say next. "I know." He whispered. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. You don't understand. My dad'll have my head if I tell you..." he paused, "plus you'd call me a freak."

Cara nearly gasped. How could he say that? While it was strange and a bit concerning, Cara doubted that it was something she couldn't help with. "I understand, Sam. Just remember that you can trust me, I promise."

Sam faked a smile and made his way to the door, then stopped, and without looking back said, "Monsters. My family hunts monsters. And not the good kind… I'm sorry, I have to go." And with that, he ran out of the room.

Cara, stunned, could only stand and watch him go. Monsters? Maybe there was more to this than she had originally thought.

The next day, Sam stayed after school again and sat quietly. Cara waited patiently, not wanting to spook her student. They sat for ten minutes before Sam started talking.

"I didn't find out about it until a few years ago." He said.

"What's that? Find out about what?"

"Hunting. I never expected it to be what it is." He put his head in his hands, breathing sharply. "I just want to be normal. I want to have friends. I don't want to travel all the time." He looked up at his teacher. "I don't want to leave."

Cara instinctively put her hand on his back. He didn't flinch. "You don't have to leave. You still can make friends! Is hunting what you do when you're absent?"

Sam looked at her, his eyes bright, as if he wanted to start crying. "You don't understand. I have to leave. Soon enough it won't be safe here for us anymore. That or dad will find out I've been talking…" His eyes bore into hers. "You can't tell anyone anything. Please."

"Of course, Sam."

He sighed and looked through the window on the far side of the classroom. It was raining. "You think I'm a freak, don't you?"

Cara shook her head. "You're anything but a freak, Sam Winchester. I don't ever want to hear you say that again." She said sternly.

Sam smiled at her. "I wish people would say things like that more often…" He looked up suddenly, his eyes widening. "Dean…"

The sound of shoes squeaking on the floor made Cara's head snap around. Sam's brother was walking towards him, his shoulders set and his face hard.

"We gotta go, Sam. Dad'll be back soon." He looked at Cara menacingly. "Come on."

"Have a good weekend, boys." Cara said, almost to herself. They didn't look back.

Sam and Cara talked almost every day after that. Cara learned things she would have rather not heard, but she didn't say anything. Sam drew her pictures of different "monsters," some of which were enough to give her nightmares. Nevertheless, she pursued her conversations with her student, determined to help him.

She learned that he had no mother- she was murdered when he was a baby. Since then, his father, John, took it upon himself to find her killer. Another monster. For nine years he had been searching with little success. He would leave his children for days, even weeks at a time on "hunting" trips, during which the boys did their best to entertain and convince themselves that he was coming back. It tore the family apart, but at the same time it strengthened their relationships (between the boys, anyways). All of them had seen some shit, which was probably an understatement.

As much as she hated to admit it, Cara was having trouble believing some of Sam's story. She came up with her own conclusions for things, like perhaps the "monsters" were other people, explaining why he was so anti-social, and his father was potentially abusive. "Hunting" might have been his way of avoiding the conflict, the way children do; hiding in his own head to get away from the real world. He did, however, hold a convincing argument, however preposterous. She believed as much as she could.

He continued to talk to her, and she was there for him when things got rough. More than once some upperclassman would have the nerve to beat him up, and after his brother beat his attacker's sorry ass, Sam would find his way back to Cara. At one point, she even brought the two of them out for ice cream.

Teacher and student grew closer and closer as the year came to a close. They didn't talk over vacation, but their conversations resumed with the New Year. Sam told her about his break: they had mostly stayed at home (which was the apartment that they were renting), but their father had taken them to an ice festival and, after, out to dinner. It was the most quality time they had spent together since April.

"Sam, do you think that your dad will come to parent-teacher conferences on the 11th?" Cara asked on the Friday after break.

Sam looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "Nope; he has no reason to go. He probably wants to leave as soon as possible, anyways."

"Well that's too bad. I'd love to meet him." Cara made her best disappointed face. Sam looked guilty, but she knew that he was probably right. She would never meet John Winchester. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't even make contact with him. She'd tried calling, emailing, and even went to their apartment on one occasion, but he was never there.

"He'd probably like you. He wouldn't show it, but I know he would." Sam frowned. "But it's probably better if you didn't meet him. I'd get in trouble."

At this point, Cara knew enough about Sam's family life to know that he was right. John Winchester would be furious if he knew that Sam had found a friend in his teacher, and to make it worse, she knew. No, not furious, but upset. The more Sam talked about him, the less it seemed like he was a heartless criminal and more like a father going through a tough time. She felt a real pity for him, though she knew he'd never accept her sympathy.

Cara sighed. "Well, at least I got to meet you and your brother. Two Winchesters are much better than none."

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Have a good weekend, Ms. Finn."

"You too, Sam! Don't get into too much trouble!"

"I won't."

Conferences were on a Thursday. It was a day off for the students, so Cara didn't get to see Sam that day. She didn't even think about seeing John. In the morning alone, over 40 parents came to check up on their children. Cara felt good about being able to talk to them about their kids, even if not all of them were able to check up.

That changed, however, after the lunch break, around one o'clock. A tall, rugged-looking man in a brown jacket walked in, looked around, and found a desk in the back. He looked at the drawing on it, and cringed visibly. On closer inspection, Cara realized that it was Sam's desk he was at.

Oh my God, did he really come?!

Cara quickly finished with her current conference and made her way to him.

"Are you Sam's dad?"

And so it was. He seemed like a very nice man, that John Winchester. It was obvious that he was having a hard time, with the loss of his wife and everything, but that he was certainly trying to take care of his boys. In what ways, though?

"You know, Sam's very quiet."

She continued, and as she spoke she could see the revelation on Mr. Winchester's face, and she knew that she needed to stop talking, but she couldn't. She knew that she made a promise to Sam, but now that she was here, in the moment, she needed to talk. She needed to tell him the impact that he was having on his son.

"He draws pentagrams, Mr. Winchester. That's not what a 4th grader should be thinking."

John's eyes widened, and his mouth quivered for a moment. "He watches a lot of… horror movies."

At that moment, Cara lost it. After what she'd heard from Sam, she knew that it wasn't just "horror movies." It was much worse, and from the look on his face, John knew it, too.

She was almost yelling now. John Winchester was frantically trying to leave, obviously realizing that it had been a bad idea to come here, but it was just fueling her. Sam. Needed. Help.

Cara brought out the picture that Sam drew for her- the one of the "shifter." John was at a complete loss for words. He looked damaged, to say the least, in that moment. He looked vulnerable and depressed, like he knew exactly what he was doing and it was killing him.

He left, looking dizzy, with Cara following him to the door. She didn't say anything else, knowing that he knew that she was there. That was enough. He knew; she'd gotten the point across.

People were looking now. Embarrassed, she reentered her classroom and resumed the conferences. She didn't know how she felt after that experience. She wasn't happy, but she didn't regret it, either.

Somehow she knew that she would never see Sam Winchester again.

She was wrong.

September 25, 2007

3:56 pm

There was a knock at the door.

Cara Finn looked up from her desk to see a young man standing in the doorway. He wore a brown corduroy jacket with a flannel underneath, and his messy, long(ish) brown hair stuck up in strange places. He was tall (like, really tall) and handsome, but it was hard to get past the long scratch on his cheek. While he looked strangely familiar, Cara couldn't put a finger on where she'd seen him before.

"Can I help you?" She asked, setting down her book.

"Hi, are you Cara Finn?" The man asked, smiling.

"That's me." His smile widened.

"Do you remember me? Sam Winchester?" He approached her desk and looked around the room. It wasn't even the same school that he went to all those 17 years ago, but the room still had the same feeling. Posters and artwork lined the walls.

Cara stood up, her mouth ajar. "Sam Winchester?" She looked him up and down, obviously surprised. "Oh my God, it's been so long. You just... left." She looked into his eyes, astounded.

Sam looked embarrassed. "Yeah, well, let's just say I'm assuming he went to conferences." He laughed.

Cara nodded slowly. "That he did. I don't regret what I said, either. How are you doing, Sam?" She sat down in a student's desk and gestured for Sam to sit in another.

"Well, pretty good, all things considered. Dean and I were in town, and I heard about what happened, so I figured I'd stop by." He glanced around the room again. "What grade?"

"Eighth. I figured middle school wasn't all that bad."

"Nice. Are you married?" Sam asked, noticing her name tag: Mrs. Finn.

"Happily married for eleven years now. I've got two boys and a little girl. Steven, Matthew, and Rebecca." Cara beamed, but her smile was quickly followed by a sad look. "Though you heard what happened."

Sam bowed his head. "I'm so sorry about that. Cancer isn't an easy thing to deal with at any point. I hope your son gets better soon."

"Thank you, Sam. How's your dad?" Cara asked, changing the subject. "And your brother?"

Sam looked down for a moment, then back at his old teacher. "Dean's doing fine. We've just been a little busy lately."

Cara too the hint. Poor boys, to loose a father that young. "So how old are you now, Sam?"

"Twenty-five now. Twenty-six in May."

"You grew up so well." She chuckled. "And did you make it to college?"

"I actually applied to law school- I was a senior at Stanford when I... dropped out." He looked down again. "Family problems."

"Aah I see. I'm sorry." Cara said, not quite knowing what to say to that.

"Well, I should probably get going," Sam began, shifting in his seat, "but I actually came here to say... thank you."

"What for?"

"What you did for me, way back when. You really helped me out, ya know? You taught me not to be afraid to put myself out there, and to make friends. I mean, I've hit a few rough patches, but it really did me good. Thank you." Sam began to stand up when Cara lightly grabbed his jacket sleeve.

"Sam, I want to thank you, too. You showed me a different perspective of things, and even that's helped me in the past years." Cara let go of his jacket and stood up with him.

"It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Finn."

"Please, Cara."

"Cara then." Sam put out his hand, which Cara took and shook. Sam's hands were firm and rough, like a carpenter... or something. "Maybe I'll see you at some point in the future."

"Maybe. Thank you for stopping by, Sam. Pass on my regards to your brother for me."

Sam nodded, smiled, and left without another word.

That was the last time Cara Finn saw Sam Winchester.