Meeting Them - Teen!Dean x Teen!Reader

First Fight

"And she said what to her teacher? Can she speak with me?" demanded your dad. You were sitting in the principal's office, listening to the usual lecture on talking back to teachers. "Yes, sir, she's right here. Speak freely." Your dad cleared his throat and said, "When you get home, you're grounded. No hunting for you for six weeks, you hear me? Tell the boys John says behave and keep y'all safe. And really? You called her an idjit? Get your own things, girl," he scolded. You smiled internally and argued back for a moment before he hung up. The principal folded his hands and stared in silence. "He said boys. Which boys?" he asked. "The Winchester's. Dean and Sam. They're closer than family," you explained, wiping away a fake tear you'd procured to convince him you hated the fake punishment. He seemed pleased with this explanation and let you go back back to class. 

The last class of the day was art, which luckily, you had with Jo. Lucky you, and Dean! Good God, he was the worst artist. He made stick figures look like the Mona Lisa. The art teacher could literally care less, so you and Jo only got closer. She lived with her parents in a bar she called the roadhouse, and she actually went to the same school as Dean for a few weeks before he transferred and then her house burned down, so she moved. They'd gotten sort of close, but he turned cold and cruel the last few days. It sounded kind of how you expected him to be. Way too soon, the bell rang and you said goodbye to Jo and went to your locker to grab the few books you wanted to read while you were there. 

Reaching around your locker, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You grabbed it and prepared to twist it, standing up. It was your science teacher, Mr. Collins. You dropped his hand and the books in you hand and said, "OhmiGod, I'm so sorry, you scared me, it's just me gut reaction, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, like, at all." He laughed and said, "It's alright. Look, I've got these two other tests that I was wondering if you could give to the two other boys you came with, including the younger one, uh, Sam. His teachers keep saying he's a genius and needs to skip a few grades. Honestly, you both are way out of this district's league, but I'd be happy to personally tutor you both seeing as I've had four degrees in different subjects if you'd three like.
Your eyes went wide as he handed you two of the same tests you'd taken earlier. You took them and thanked him before running off to the front door.

A crowd was surrounding something and murmurs were going through it. You heard a familiar voice and groaned. "For the god's sake, SAM!" you shouted. People turned around and gave you a strange look. You made your way to the middle and saw Sam lying on the ground holding his jaw and a bigger kid with a smirk on his face. You helped him up, whispering in his ear, "He do this?" He nodded small enough so only you could see it. "Go find Dean and tell him to get his lame ass over here now," you told him once he was out of the crowd that was slowly dissipating. "His name was Dirk McGregor," he mumbled as he ran off. You smiled gently at his sprinting figure before turning around, clearing your throat, and yelling, "DIRK MCGREGOR!" as loud as you could. You could have heard people's heads swivel towards your direction. 

He swaggered back over to you and said, "You wanted me, sexy?" You smiled a sweet smile. "Nothing but you, Dirkey. But what I don't understand is why you're here when you can't handle your mother's death. If you're so weak, why don't you go kill yourself? Jesus, and then taking it out on smaller kids? Who's kind now?" you sneered as others came back. He turned to run, pushing people to get away. "Oh, my God, the principal is with Mrs. Buell!" someone shouted and they all ran to look while you chased after Dirk.

He was hiding in the bushes near the edge of campus. You silently sat down next to him until he looked up. "Why are you here? How did you know about my mom? God, I can never have friends again!" he whispered between sobs. "Because I didn't mean a word of it, Dirk. You're unbelievable strong for keeping this way, even if you don't exactly handle it correctly. It's no fun when someone bigger embarrasses you, is it? Look, you're going to want to stick around for everything, especially your dad. He's gonna need you, okay? I promise, Dirk, it gets better. Just stick around long enough so you can make your mark on the world. I know you can. You can make someone happy instead of how you feel," you said softly. "You didn't answer my question. How. did. you. know," he demanded. You sighed and said, "The ring on your finger is obviously female, and I'd know if you had a girlfriend. It was something sentimental, something you'd keep after a loss. The rings under your eyes, loss of sleep, and the little, barely noticeable red tracks from tears, rather recent. There's some bruising on your arms when your sleeves come up along with self harm scars. The bruises aren't from anything accidental, which means abuse at home. These are the only a few, so very recently, someone turned probably to alcohol. I was never certain, but statistics say it's more probable for males. It wasn't that difficult, just had to look for signs." His eyes were wide open and you talked for a while longer before you left to find the Winchesters.

"Where have you been?" demanded Dean when you came into view. "Look, Dirk got interested in my... talents of sorts. So I made him feel better. I hate doing that, but he had to be taught," you explained. "Dean was freaking out," Sam said nonchalantly. "I am never letting you go anywhere by yourself again. You tell me, (y/n), you hear?" he raged. You rolled your eyes and said, "If I let you hug me, will you chill?" He stayed silent before taking up on that offer and taking your hand in his, Sam's in the other, and marching down the road to the room you had to share.

You didn't pull away from Dean's grip.