A Real Boy, a supernatural fanfic

Authors Note: This is not beta'd so I apologize for any mistakes. I try to catch them all. Anyway, just a little fic I wrote while bored at work. Hope you enjoy!

A little boy sat alone on the hot blacktop of his school's playground, slumped forward and picking at his nails with his teeth as he watched all the other children play. No one had asked if he wanted to join them and he was afraid if he asked they'd tell him no. He hated being the new kid. Unfortunately, he was always the new kid. When he was in first grade, he made the mistake of crying in front of his dad over it. He cried because no one played with him. Dad told him he needed to toughen up and he guessed he was right. So instead he cried in the bathroom so he wouldn't look like a sissy. Didn't really make him any less of one but at least no one saw him cry. Now, in second grade, he's used to it. He got along just fine without friends so who needed them? That's what he kept telling himself.

He was used to having someone to play with when he was home. His little brother was always around and always wanted him to do stuff. School was different. At school, he was lonely. He got to the point where he was counting down the minutes until the final bell rang and he could leave. Everyday, he'd run home as fast as his legs would take him and his little brother would be waiting for him. Playing with his brother was the only time he felt like a real boy and not just the shell of one.

He knew his family was different. He'd known for a while. His dad had a very important job that he knew was way cooler than any of the other kid's parents. His dad was a hero. One day, he hoped he could be one too. But right now, he just wanted to be a boy. Didn't seem like anyone wanted to let him. He understood his life wasn't normal. He didn't think like kids his age and he knew more than he really should. Couldn't he ever just pretend not to be different?

He watched the other boys play basketball and wished he could join in. The only time he got to play with kids his own age was during gym class and, even then, he didn't really get to play. He was always picked last and no one ever really passed him the ball unless the teacher made them. He hated dodgeball with an absolute passion. Whoever had invented that sport needed to be hunted down and burned to a crisp. His dad told him it was good practice. For who? The future sadists in his class? You could only dodge so many balls at once.

He shook his head. School was the only place he could be a kid and he was getting the shaft there too. He just wanted to do normal stuff sometimes. He wanted to play games with friends and ride a bike. He wanted to stay in one place for longer than a month and get into trouble without feeling like his world was ending. He wanted a lot of things. But, like most things he shouldn't be used to, he was. He was used to apartments instead of houses and motels instead of apartments. He was used to cheap clothes and highway diners. He was used to being the one in charge while his dad was away for a couple of days. He was used to lying. His teachers taught him to be honest. Dad taught him that some people aren't ready for the truth.

He let out a long suffering sigh when the bell rang to signal the end of recess. He rose to his feet and trudged his way back inside, slowly following behind his other classmates. His teacher waited at the door for everyone to get in and he pretended to ignore her frown. She was always frowning at him. It made him nervous.

"Dean, please hold up a second," the young teacher asked. Dean did as he was told but not without letting a groan slip past his lips.

"Yes, Miss Burnley?"

"I've been watching you at recess, Dean. You always sit by yourself. Why don't you play with the other students?"

His only answer was a shrug.

"I know being the new guy is difficult, but you won't make any friends if you're always being a wallflower. What do you say tomorrow you join the other boys tomorrow in a basketball game? Give it a try. You never know, you just might make some friends. How's that sound?"

Again, Dean just shrugged. She had a habit of talking to her students like they were five or puppies or something. How was he ever supposed to take her seriously?

"All right. Let's get to class. It's math time!" Dean rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm, causing her to laugh. He couldn't help but think how utterly clueless she was.

The next day, Dean got into a fight with one of the other boys and was sent home. Miss Burnley told him she was disappointed and had that stupid frown on her face. The fight wasn't even his fault. When he told his dad what happened, his dad told him he did the right thing by standing up for himself. But then he got that look on his face like Dean was in trouble. The drive home consisted of a long lecture about keeping a low profile and staying out of trouble.

"I need to be able to count on you, Dean. I can't be worrying about you at school when I need to concentrate on a hunt. You know that."

"Yes, sir."

His dad sighed. "Pick your battles, son. There's always gonna be some kid that thinks he can be the bully but you can't fight them all."

Dean figured that was a line of crap. His dad went after all the bullies. Didn't matter that they were evil or not. Dean kind of considered his class to be evil anyway. But he nodded his head in agreement despite what he thought. It was the whole "do as I say, not as I do" crap that Dean had heard several times already. He couldn't wait for the time when he could do as his dad did. He figured he'd have an easier time knowing what was right then. He was tired of thinking he did the right thing but being all wrong about it.

School was pretty much going to keep sucking, he guessed.

"I promised Sammy we'd have something special for dinner tonight. I'm not going to disappoint him just because you screwed up. Consider yourself lucky that I don't feel like dealing with one of his temper tantrums. Kid was getting on my nerves all day today. But you remember what we talked about."

"Yes, sir."

"And, Dean? No tv for a week." Dean started to open his mouth in protest but one look from his dad had him closing it with a click of this teeth. As far as punishments went, he supposed that was pretty tame. He didn't want to push his luck but he needed to know.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yeah?"

"The other kid? I got him good, didn't I? I mean, I did everything you taught me. I ducked and weaved and let him do all the work and then I found my opening. Just like you said to."

John smirked. Couldn't really deny it. "Yeah, Dean. You got him good."

Dean smiled, a little triumphant. It may have been wrong but at least he'd done it right.

Sometimes he didn't feel real and then times like this, when his dad smiled at him and ruffled his hair, he really did. So maybe that was okay. Dean was fine with that. He had his little brother and he had his dad. He guessed he wasn't supposed to need anything else.

End.