Chapter Twelve, After School Special

~December 9th - December 13th, 2008 ~

Harley sighed as they were yet again, on their way to another case. That's all they seemed to be doing lately: sleep, eat, hunt, repeat. Sometimes a date could be squeezed into that fixed routine which Harley was thankful for. A nice break in the monotony and plus she got to see her handsome Archangel boyfriend, who she confessed to loving on their last date which may or may not have led to some steamy sex - protective sex obviously- afterwards. Something Dean did not need to know about with his overprotective desire to shield and protect Harley from everything, as he was a father, big brother and best friend all rolled into one.

Anyways, Sam had claimed he'd stumbled on to a case at a High school in Fairfax, Indiana; about how a typically docile teenage girl named April, who had beaten a popular cheerleader, and gave her a swirly that unfortunately resulted in her death. The article said that April claimed to have been possessed by a demon. Sam and Dean agreed that it sounded like it could be demon possession. However, Harley was skeptical. Maybe the girl just finally had enough and went way too far, so she had to blame something or perhaps it could be something else. They decided to go to the town anyway, so Sam went into the mental facility she was being kept in and questioned her as if he were working there. A little while later, Sam came back and joined his siblings in the Impala.

"So?" Dean asked.
"I think she's telling the truth. I mean, the way she talked about being there mentally, but not physically... kind of sounds like demonic possession to me," Sam said. Dean and Harley furrowed their brow.
"Kind of?" They questioned.
"She didn't see any black smoke or smell sulfur," Sam said. Dean shrugged.
"Maybe it's not a demon. Maybe Rosie's right, kids can be vicious."

"Well, I mean, we're already here. Might as well check out the school," Sam said, trying to hold back excitement. Dean shared a look with Harley and the pair rolled their eyes.
"Right. The school."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Truman High, home of the Bombers," Harley said dryly. Sam shook his head.
"What's your point?" Dean and Harley shrugged.
"I mean, we went there, like... for a month, a million years ago. Why are you so jazzed to go back?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"I'm not. I just think it's worth looking into," Sam said defensively.
"All right, well, what's our cover? FBI? Homeland Security? Swedish exchange students?" Dean asked.
"Don't worry. I took care of it as soon as I found out we were coming," Sam said.
"Okay." Dean shrugged, and they drove off to find a hotel.

* * *

Truman High School, 1997

"Thanks Dad." Teenage Dean bid, hurrying around the Impala to catch up with his two younger siblings: Sam (who was hurrying away from the Impala as fast as he could), and Harlene or Harley who was shorter than Sam's short height and his Irish twin and the baby of the Winchester family. Spotting her eldest brother hurrying up to them she beamed beautifully at him, which helped cheer up the rather grumpy Dean. "Got your lunch? Books? Butterfly knife?" Dean asked the two, his protective desire to protect his baby brother and sister causing him to be overprotective and worry a lot.

"Yeah, Dean." Sam sighed, annoyed.
"Yep." Harley beamed, at Dean walking in between her two brothers. "I made lunch for you too, Dean. It's my bag." Normally Dean wouldn't admit it but he did with his little sister and smiled a real smile as he felt touched that someone cared for him.
"Thanks Rosie." Dean beamed at her. "You okay?" He asked Sam concerned, spotting the annoyed look. "Both of you?" He asked.
"Sure." Sam replied, looking away.
"Yeah, just tired." Harley replied, hiding a yawn. "What's up with you, Sammy? Get out the wrong side of the bed?" She teased.
"Sammy?" Dean questioned, standing in front of the pair as Sam just rolled his eyes at Harley and didn't answer.

"I mean, look, this is the third school we've been to and it's only November. I'm just sick of always being the new kid." Sam complained.
"Hey, you're not the only new kid, you know." Harley said, affronted, helping Sam a little. "I'm in classes with you so you're not exactly alone, you just choose to be, leaving me alone. Plus, Dean is always a new kid, too."
"You'll be fine." Dean assured, wrapping his arm around Harley in a comforting hug to calm her down so she didn't cause herself to have another migraine like this morning. "You have Rosie with you and do not leave her alone! Not after the attack she had this morning." Dean warned sternly.
"Dean, I'm fine now." Harley assured him.

"If anyone gives you any trouble, either of you, you let me know." Dean said sternly. Sam just scoffed and shook his head. "Relax, Sammy, Dad said this hunt will take him two weeks, tops." Dean assured, a smirk playing about his lips. "As soon as he gets back, we're out of here."
"To another school. Awesome." Sam muttered sarcastically, brushing past his siblings without another word.
"Don't worry Deanie, you'll always have me." Harley said, hugging her brother tightly around the waist, hearing Dean sigh.
"I know Rosie and you'll always have me too." Dean hugged her tightly for a moment as they heard the bell ring. "C'mon let's get you to class."

After being dropped off at her classroom, Harley and Sam were made to stand at the front as the teacher introduced them.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please say hello to Sam and Harley Winchester." The teacher introduced them.
"Hi Sam."
"Hi Harley."
"Is there anything you'd both like to us about yourselves?" Sam and Harley's teacher asked.
"Harley's my Irish twin but other than that not really." Sam said mono-tonelessly. Harley shook her head.
"Okay. Both of you grab a seat."

In Dean's class he was made to stand at the front too, as his teacher, a woman with frizzy dyed red hair introduced him.
"Class, say hello to our new student, Dean Winchester." Dean just raised his eyebrows at everyone when no one said anything, he just wanted to get to his seat but the teacher wasn't gonna allow that, just yet. "Dean, is there anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" His teacher asked.
"Not really, sweetheart." Dean said flirtatiously.
"Take your seat." His teacher said sternly, as chuckles ran around the classroom.

***

~ present time ~

Sam's idea had been for him to pose as a janitor and for Harley and Dean to pose as the coaches which Dean was in his element. Harley wore red leggings, a white sleeveless top that had a hood attached, white socks, white trainers and her hair was in a braided bun. Whereas, Dean looked rather funny in red shorts, a white too, long white and red striped socks, white trainers and red sweatbands. As the gym filled with students Harley blew her whistle gathering their attention as Dean started speaking.
"Today, you will have the honour of playing one of the greatest games ever invented." Dean informed as he paced before, with them his hands behind his back. While Harley stood behind Dean holding a red ball in her hands.

"A game of skill, agility, cunning. A game with one simple rule." Dean paused and looked at Harley.
"Dodge." Harley threw the ball up in the air.
"Err, substitute coach Roth and Roth." An Asian boy asked nervously, his hand in the air.
"Yes." Harley and Dean answered.
"Miss Boudreaux never let us play dodgeball." The student informed Dean.
"Well, Miss B's in Massachusetts getting married, so we're playing." Harley stated.
"She says it's dangerous -"
Harley blew her whistle.
"Take a lap for back chatting." Harley said sternly.

"But -"
"You heard her!" Dean said sternly, blowing his own whistle. As the kid started running Harley and Dean spotted Sam.
"Go nuts." Dean said, throwing the back in the air, while Harley threw her ball in the air.
"Having fun?" Sam asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"The whistle makes us their god." Dean said childishly, causing a laugh to burst forth from Harley.
"Right. Nice shorts." Sam said uncertainty, causing Dean to look at his short-shorts.
"Did you find anything?" Harley asked.

"I've been over the entire school, twice. No sulphur." Sam admitted.
"No sulphur, no Demon. No Demon, no case." Dean stated the obvious fact, Sam wanted to overlook.
"I don't know, maybe I was wrong." Sam said unsurely.
"It's okay Sammy. It happens to the best of us." Harley said sympathetically, she missed her brother and was tired of being angry.
"I say, we got the road. But after lunch, it's sloppy-joe day." Dean said, almost excitedly, as he thought of filling his stomach causing Harley to smile fondly at him.
Sam winced as one of the kids got hit in the face, breaking his nose.
"Good hustle, Colby. Walk it off!" Dean shouted after him.

***

Just before lunch another incident occurred. This time with a blender, and Sam caught ectoplasm leaking out of the perpetrator's ear. So while everyone was attending a non-violence assembly, Sam was scanning the corridors with the EMF meter.
"How're the non-violence assembly going?" Sam asked Dean and Harley, who Harley just joined him. Dean now in a red tracksuit.
"Apparently, shoving a kid's arm into a Cusinart is not a healthy display of anger." Dean repeated.
"The kid had ectoplasm leaking out of his ear?" Harley asked.

"Which only comes from a really pissed off spirit." Sam stated.
"Well, then it has to be ghost possession." Harley remarked with a sigh, she hated ghosts ever since her mother attacked her.
"Hey, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise." Dean swore, realising what she was thinking and hugging her tightly.
"I know, Dean." Harley muttered, smiling tightly at him.
"Though, I have to admit, ghost possession is pretty rare." Dean admitted.
"Yeah, but it does happen." Sam argued. "They get angry enough, they could take control of a person's body."

"So, what, we got a ghost in the building?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, but I dunno where. I mean, there is no EMF. Maybe we could find out who it is. Then we could check and see if somebody died around here." Sam suggested.
"We're way ahead of you, Sammy." Harley smirked, as Dean pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. "We had to break into the Principal's office to get it."
"There was one death on campus. It was a suicide back in '98." Dean explained, unfolding a print-out and reading off it. "Don't kid named, Barry Cook."
"What?" Harley asked, confused as Sam suddenly snatched the print-out and let out a heavy sigh.

"I knew him. Harley, you and I both did. How'd he die?" Sam asked.
"I don't remember him." Harley muttered, a confused frown on her face.
"That's because you hardly spoke to anyone and just stayed with Dean when he wasn't hooking up." Sam snapped.
"Hey! Don't take it out on Rosie, Sam!" Dean reprimanded firmly. "Anyway, he slit his wrists in the first floor girl's bathroom."
"That's where -"
"Where that girl got swirled to death." Harley finished for Sam.

"So, what, this ghost is possessing nerds?" Dean asked, confused, trying to figure out the ghosts' motive.
"And using them to go after bullies, yeah." Sam added distractedly.
"Well, does that sound like Barry's M.O.?" Dean and Harley asked in unison, as she couldn't remember.
"Barty had a hard time." was all Sam said.

***

Later that night, the siblings went to Barry's grave and dug up his coffin. Dean lifted the lid, Sam and Harley dropped salt and fuel on the bones, then he lit a match and dropped it in.
"So long, Barry Cook." After that, we filled in the grave and hit the road, but Sam was oddly quiet.
"You all right?" Dean asked him. Sam shrugged.
"Barry was my friend. I just burned his bones."
"Well, he's at peace now, Sam," Harley said softly.
"I mean, if Dad had let us stay just a little while longer, maybe I could have helped the kid, ya know?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "You read the coroner's report the same as us. Barry was on every anxiety drug and antidepressant known to man. School was Hell for that kid. His parents had split up. He just wanted out. It was tragic, but it's not your fault. To tell you the truth, I'm glad we got out of that town. I hated that school." Sam shrugged.
"It wasn't all bad." Dean chuckled.
"How can you say that after what happened to you and Rosie?" Sam nodded and was silent for a little bit. Sam shrugged.
"You could've torn that kid apart, and you didn't." Dean said.
"The only reason I didn't was 'cause I suddenly got one of those migraines, so he was lucky." Harley said, shrugging. Sam nodded.
"I know, you said the same thing back then, Dean, and like I told you, I didn't want to be the freak... I wanted to be normal."

***

The next morning, Sam said he wanted to talk to a teacher he really liked back when they were kids before leaving, so Dean reluctantly drove them back and parked the car in front of the school.
"We came back here so you could talk to a teacher?" Harley asked incredulously. Sam nodded.
"He's a good guy." Sam muttered.
Dean shrugged. "Well, whatever. Go have your Robin Williams O captain! My captain! moment. Just make it quick."
Sam nodded. "All right." Then he got out and walked into the building.

***

Only a few moments later, Sam came running out of the building in pain, clutching his chest and hobbling slightly. Then he hopped in the car. As soon as Sam shut the door, Dean took off.
"What happened?" Harley and Dean asked.
"The ghost. It's not gone," Sam said, as he clutched his crotch in pain. Dean and Harley furrowed their brow at Sam.
"What did it do to you?" Harley asked.
"It possessed a girl, and then she stabbed me in the chest with a pencil and kicked me..." Sam said, gesturing to his lap.
"What?" Dean shook his head. "Dude, seriously?" Sam nodded.
"Yeah, seriously, Dean." A couple of minutes later, Dean turned down a trail into the woods and parked the Impala next to a creek.

The siblings got out, and Sam sat on a rock, still hunched over in pain. Dean popped the trunk and pulled a giant bottle of whiskey out of their cooler and handed it to Sam, who just looked at him strangely. Dean shook the bottle.
"Trust me. This will help." Sam took it and rested the bottle between his legs, sighing as he felt some sort of relief. "That ghost is dead." Dean paced. "I'm gonna rip its lungs out!" He shrugged. "Well, you know what I mean."
"Calm down, Dee." Harley said gently, rubbing her hand on his arm. She knew how protective Dean was of her and Sam.
"You don't mess with a man's jewels." He walked to the car and pulled a file out, and sat on the trunk.
"It knew my name. My real name. We burned Barry's bones. What the hell?" Sam asked, but Dean just shrugged, not having an answer.

"Well, maybe it wasn't Barry. Maybe we missed something. We just got to go back." Harley suggested, joining Dean sitting on the trunk flipping through the file together in silence until they stumbled across something.
"No way. How did we not see this before?" Dean exclaimed.
"What?" Sam asked. Harley snatched the file, bringing it over to Sam with Dean following behind her.
"Check it out..." Harley pointed to some of the names on the paper, some of which had been the victims of the ghost possession.
"Look, Martha Dumptruck, Revenge of the Nerds, and Hello Kitty... they rode the same bus." Dean took over explaining as Sam nodded.

"Okay, so maybe the bus is haunted." Sam suggested.
"Well, that would explain why there's no EMF at the school, but not the attacks." Dean shrugged. "I mean, ghosts are tied to the places that they haunt. They can't just bail."
"Unless this one can. Dean, there's lore about spirits possessing people and riding them for miles, then whenever they leave the body, they're bungee'd back to their usual haunt. But until then, the ghosts can go wherever they want," Sam explained.
"So, a spook just grabs a kid on the bus and walks right into Truman?" Dean asked. Sam nodded.
"It's possible." Sam muttered.
"Ghosts getting creative... well, that's super," Harley said, sarcastically.

* * *

Once Sam, Harley and Dean finished drinking a couple of beers, and ate some dinner, they made their way back to the school and checked out the bus. Sam searched the back of the bus with an EMF meter. Dean searched the center looking for any sign of a ghost with a sawed-off rock salt shotgun in his hand. While Harley searched the front, looking through the driver's stuff.
"Definitely ain't clean," Sam said.
"Here, ghosty, ghosty, ghosty! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Dean muttered, tapping the top of the bus with his shotgun as he continued to search.
"Man, I don't get it. No one ever died on this bus, and it's not like there's a body hidden in here," Sam said.

"Yeah, but a flap of skin, a hair, I mean, hell, a hangnail..." Dean said.
"Something's got to be tying the ghost to this place. We just got to find it." Harley remarked, sparing her brothers a glance as she continued searching.
"Yeah," Sam said. Harley moved over to the driver's seat while she searched through some of the papers in the front and found something interesting.
"When did the first attack happen?" She asked.

"Almost two weeks ago," Sam said. "Why?"
"Driver got a new driving permit, issued two weeks ago." Harley replied. Sam raised his eyebrows. Harley nodded and looked down at the paperwork. "Driver's name is Dirk McGregor Sr... Address is 39 North Central Avenue."
"McGregor?" Sam asked, and then walked up and squatted next to his sister. Harley nodded, and looked back down at the paperwork to double-check.
"Yeah."
"We knew his son," Sam said.
"Oh, yeah, it was the kid I wanted to hit but the migraines caused me to be in the nurse's office with Dean while you had your fight with him." Harley remarked, suddenly remembering.
"Did you know everybody at this school?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

* * *

Dean drove over to Mr. McGregor's house, where the siblings introduced themselves as old friends of Dirk's. They were invited into the house and sat in the living room together.
"So, you three were friends with Dirk?" Mr. McGregor asked. Sam nodded.
"Yes, sir, in high school." Sam replied, Mr. McGregor shook his head.
"I don't recall Dirk having many friends at Truman."
"When did, uh— When did Dirk pass?" Dean asked. Mr. McGregor was suddenly struck by sadness.
"He was eighteen." He muttered heartbrokenly.
"What happened to him?" Harley asked cautiously.

Mr. McGregor sighed. "Well, there was, first, drinking, then drugs, and then too many drugs. And then he just slipped through my fingers. It was my fault. I should have seen it coming, ya know? Dirk, he, uh— he had his troubles."
"What kind of troubles?" Dean asked.
"School was never easy for Dirk. We didn't have much money, and, well, ya know, kids... they can be cruel. They picked on him," Mr. McGregor explained.
"They picked on him?" Sam asked, as if he didn't believe it. Mr. McGregor nodded.
"They called him poor and dirty and stupid. They even had a nickname for him..." He thought for a moment. "Dirk the jerk." Sam swallowed hard and looked like he was guilty of something. Mr. McGregor sighed. "And after what happened to his mother, he—"

"His mother?" Sam asked. Mr. McGregor nodded.
"Yeah, Jane, my wife. She died when Dirk was thirteen. Cancer. I was working three jobs, so it fell to Dirk to take care of her. And he was a great kid. He made sure Jane got her medicine. He helped her, cleaned up after her. But ya know, you— you watch somebody die slowly, waste away to nothing... it does things to a person. Horrible things." Sam shook his head.
"We didn't know about his mother." Sam muttered despondently.
"He— He wouldn't talk about her, not even to me. Lot of anger in that boy." Mr. McGregor remarked sadly, shrugging his shoulders.
"I'm sorry," Sam said honestly.

"Well, we'd really like to pay our respects, Mr. McGregor. Um, you mind telling us where Dirk is buried?" Dean asked.
"Oh, he wasn't. I had him cremated," Mr. McGregor said, and pointed up to a shelf that had an urn on it.
"All of him?" Dean asked, and Harley nudged his leg with her knee. Mr. McGregor looked at Dean, taken aback.
"Well... I kept a lock of his hair." He mutters confused.
"Oh, that's— that's nice. Where do you keep that?" Dean asked.
"On my bus, in my bible," Mr. McGregor said suspiciously.

* * *

As night fell, Dean pulled up to the school and the three watched as Mr. McGregor's bus pulled out right in front of them, full of football players. So, they followed it, and eventually, it oddly pulled over in the middle of the road, and the bus driver walked off the bus. Quickly, they got out of the Impala and grabbed a few things out of the trunk before running up to the bus. "Dirk!" Sam shouted, as he cocked his shotgun at the bus driver.
"Winchester." The bus driver turned around with a smirk on his face. "What are you gonna do? Shoot me?"

Dean snuck up behind him and wrapped a rope around him. Sam shook his head.
"Don't need to. That rope is soaked in saltwater, Dirk. You're not going anywhere." Harley jumped onto the bus. "Everybody stay where you are, and everything will be fine."
"Coach Roth?" one of the football players asked.
"Uh, yeah?" Harley asked, uncertainly.
"What are you doing here?" He asked.
"We're like 21 Jump Street," Dean said, as he walked onto the bus behind Harley.
"The bus driver sells pot." Harley added. Everyone gasped, and with them thoroughly distracted by that piece of 'news', Harley turned to look for the bible.

"Yeah," Dean said. Harley flipped through the Bible but found nothing.
"Dean, it's not here!" Dean charged off the bus, and Harley followed after him. "Where is it?"
"No way you'll ever find it." Dirk smiled. Sam stepped forward and put the shotgun on Dirk's chest.
"Where is it?!" Sam shouted. Dirk smiled.
"Sam Winchester. Still a bully. You— You jocks... you popular kids... you always thought you were better than everybody else. And to you, I was just Dirk the jerk, right? Now you evil sons of bitches are gonna get what's coming to you." Sam shook his head.

"I'm not evil, Dirk. I'm not. And neither were you. Trust me. I've seen real evil. We were scared and miserable, and we took it out on each other... us and everybody else. That's high school. But you suffer through that, and it gets better. I'm just sorry you didn't get a chance to see that... you or Barry." Sam apologised.
"Nothing is gonna get better for me. Not ever," Dirk said, and then ripped the rope off. Sam fired the shotgun at him, but Dirk's spirit flew back onto the bus. One of the football players walked off the bus and attacked Sam from behind. Dean picked up the shotgun and fired it at Dirk, but missed, and he continued to beat up Sam. Harley ran over to the bus driver, who was still lying on the ground but was slowly waking up.

"I'm sorry." Harley said, as she started searching his pockets. Finally, she pulled the lock of hair out, took a lighter out of her pocket, and set it on fire. Dirk looked angrily up at Harley, but then he screamed and burst out of the football player, who then fell on top of Sam.
"Little help?" Sam asked, from under the large kid. Dean laughed and started pulling the kid off of Sam.
"He's giving you the full cowgirl." Dean smirked, making Sam groan.

* * *

The next morning, Sam asked to go back to the school to finally talk to the teacher he hadn't been able to the day before. When he came back out about twenty minutes later, he had a strange look on his face, almost as if he was unsure of something, and Harley couldn't quite read him.
"How'd it go?" Harley asked. Sam nodded.
"Good. I'm glad I saw him."