fandomhigh | Fandom's Next Top Runway Model [Monday, Period Five]

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Fandom's Next Top Runway Model [Monday, Period Five]

When Lee got to the classroom today, there was a note on the door written in what appeared to be very shaky, very scared handwriting.

Fleeing the crazy.

Will return when threat passes.

You have the class.

Ares

Lee stared at the note for a long time and then shook his head before going into the classroom and trying to think of SOMETHING to do.

When everyone started filing in and settled down, Lee said, "Ares went and got married this weekend." Hey, he was in control. "To some girl name Rowena. I think they're on their honeymoon now or something. Make sure to wish him well when he gets back. He didn't leave us anything to do so I'm going to make something up. As a lot of you saw, I got stuck to the side of the dorms in my underwear last week by a teacher who you all should call grandmother when you see her. And then tell her I told you too."

What the hell, right?

"Anyway, that leads to the big question. Boxers or briefs? Or nothing? For girls...well, I don't know what underwear girls wear so the girls can figure that out? Why's one better than the other? Why would anyone for a frakking thong? And what the frak is up with this planet's obsession with thongs?"

Lee really shouldn't make things up off the top of his bed.

"No modeling though. Ares might reappear as soon as that happened and that'd be creepy. Oh, and if anyone would like to bitch about Parent's Weekend, we can do that too. We probably need to."

And then Lee sat down at the desk and waited for the discussions.

[OCD is ~~coming~~ up! I'm a little weird this morning.]

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Dean caught Peter's glance and took a deep breath. "Hey, about yesterday..."

Peter was listening.

"I didn't come over meaning to beat up your brother... I just wanted him to lay off Sammy. The beating up just sorta... happened."

"Could it sort of not happen next time?" Peter asked. Not angry, just asking. "He's my brother, Dean."

"I know." More's the pity. "I won't start anything," Dean said, "but I won't just stand there and let him pick on Sammy either. He's my brother."

"I know." Peter brushed his hair out of his eyes. "And it's not like I'd ever want Sam to be hurt. Nathan's just... an overachiever in everything."

"Especially at being obnoxious."

Peter glared because he had to, but he did not dispute the point. "He thought he was trying to protect me. He doesn't get that things here aren't like they are back home.

"Yeah, no freaking kidding. Too bad he didn't get to experience some of the more weird of Fandom -- a few days as a snake or something would probably be real enlightening."

"What is your problem with him?" Peter asked. "'cause to hear him tell it, you started it."

Granted Nathan might be a biased source, but that's why Peter was asking.

"Did not. He went and threatened Sammy all on his lonesome. But yeah," Dean admitted, "I wasn't his biggest fan even before that. He doesn't take you and your life seriously."

"The Sam thing was definitely over the line," Peter said. He was still angry at Nathan for the specific threat he'd used, too, and he didn't mind showing it. "But the rest - what? Since when?"

"Well I didn't have the greatest opinion from the way he initially treated you about your powers -- least from what you said. And then I met him and he had no freaking idea who Sammy was. Your best friend -- who he has met -- and he couldn't even care enough to remember his name." Dean shrugged. "Says to me that's someone who doesn't think the important things in your life are important enough to make an effort to keep track of."

"He was freaked out!" Peter said. "He thought I was going crazy! I thought I was going crazy." Granted Nathan had helped just a tiny bit with that. "And he knows Sam's name. I sure as hell talk about him often enough."

Any year now Peter would learn when to shut up before he said more than he had to. This was not that year.

"That's my point!" Dean said. "When I talked to him, I introduced myself as your best friend's brother. He had no idea who I was referring to. Even when he figured out it was 'the tall one' I had to tell him his name."

"Nathan knows how important Sam is to me," Peter insisted. "Believe me."

"Hope so. Might make him think twice the next time he's feeling all contracty."

Peter clenched his hands into fists and brought them closer to himself. "He didn't mean it."

"About Sammy? Yeah, probably not," Dean admitted. "He said Sammy I think mostly as a way to push my buttons because calling me crazy and a drunk wasn't working. But the way he said it, I don't think it was a threat pulled out of thin air."

After the conversation with Sam in fourth period, anything related to this topic was currently a raw, gaping wound. Peter folded his arms tight against his chest and slumped down in his chair.

"Yeah, well, you know us Italians," he said, his mouth twisted with bitter irony. "We're all born with guns taped behind our toilets."

"Under the sink's probably a better place," Dean replied. "If you have to hide one in the bathroom. Not my first choice as where to put the secret armory."

The joke managed to make Peter relax by a hair. "Yeah, well, I'm not the one with military experience."

"Look, dude, I'm the last person to stereotype someone's family. Hell, if you look at mine and don't know about demons and shit, we probably come off as crazy survivalists or something."

"It's not both?" Peter said, managing to work himself up to try to tease.

"Nah. Not anti-social enough."

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