Chapter Text
January 3rd, Twenty years ago…
It had been the longest two weeks of Sam Winchester’s life. Like all teenagers, he looked forward to Winter Break and the unlimited reading time it allowed, but this year was different. Sam could think of nothing else beyond returning to school and opening the door to his locker.
For weeks leading up to the break, Sam had been wooed. Someone—a ‘secret admirer’—had been leaving notes and the occasional gift in Sam’s locker. When the first note had arrived, Sam barely read it before becoming suspicious that someone had found a way to break into his personal space. The words on the page had eventually gotten through to him, seducing the tall fifteen year old with surprisingly excellent grammar, as well as truly heartfelt emotion.
It wasn’t long before Sam had forgotten all about the breach into his privacy and found himself looking forward to what new thing he would find perched on the small shelf. His favorite had been a small box of raisin cookies that had been accompanied by a note explaining that they were gluten free treats and that Sam’s eyes were ‘mesmerizing.’
On the last day of classes, there had been a large candy cane with a note telling Sam to expect something very special when they all returned from break. ‘Love, Your Secret Admirer,’ hastily scrawled on the bottom of the paper, as always. Sam had been on pins and needles the entire time. He had absolutely no idea who might be attempting to court him—but he did have some hopes. Whenever he’d read the words of the various sweet letters, he’d always pictured the same amber eyes and laughing smile.
He couldn’t concentrate on any of his novels as he tried and failed to stay busy with his favorite pastime. He even had trouble connecting with his older brother Dean, who had managed to secure a few days of leave from his post as a corporal in the Army. Dean had noticed how jittery his little brother was, but he hadn’t commented, and for that, Sam was grateful. He didn’t want to tell Dean about this—his naturally suspicious big brother would find a way to ruin it for certain. Sam wanted to keep this to himself, just a bit longer. He had so few things in his life that made him this happy. He wanted it to last.
The high school was less than a mile from the small apartment where Sam lived. Technically, Dean was his guardian, and he had rented the place a few years back. When Dean enlisted, he’d worked things out with the court to have their Uncle Bobby keep an eye on Sam, still allowing the mature young teen to live basically on his own. Sam liked the arrangement. He enjoyed the solitude—and in all honesty, he was far more financially responsible than Dean ever had been.
Sam had spent the night tossing and turning, willing sleep to come. It never did. When his abnormally early alarm blared into the dark room, Sam was already awake. He had hurried through his shower and was fully dressed within the hour. He practically inhaled a granola bar as he ran out and began jogging toward the school.
The campus was relatively empty this early in the morning. The teachers and staff were around, readying themselves for the day. He spotted a few fellow overachievers wandering the halls, including his best friend, Castiel Novak.
Cas had moved to town sometime that summer, along with his older brother, Gabriel, and their reclusive father. Castiel didn’t talk about his mom. Sam was curious, but he understood. He didn’t talk about his own mother very often either. When the person who is always supposed to be there for you dies before you can even remember them, it tended to take a toll. Sam didn’t know if Cas’ mom was dead, or just out of the picture, and he refused to pry.
“Hey!” Sam slowed down as he drew level with his quiet friend. “How was your break?”
“Mostly uneventful,” Cas smiled at him. “I did manage to finish reading ‘Lord of the Flies’ though, so I am pleased.”
“You know that they assigned that book to read in March, right?” Sam laughed. “You’re way ahead.”
“I am aware,” Cas managed an unusually impish grin. “I enjoy being prepared.”
Sam smiled, but shifted his weight impatiently as he thought about getting to his locker to see what had been left for him. “Are you all right, Sam?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “I just—I have to check something. I’ll see you in biology, okay?”
Cas nodded at him as Sam took back off down the hall. Sam had never told Cas about the notes and gifts. His friend was far too serious to get excited over something as sappy as a secret admirer. And also, like Dean, Cas would probably be suspicious about who was behind it all.
As Sam neared his locker, he noticed that the air in the hallway smelled off. It was sharp and pungent—almost rancid. There were a few students clustered a few feet down, all digging through their own lockers and complaining about the smell, noses wrinkled. Sam’s forehead furrowed as he drew near the number 815. His locker.
He didn’t even have to open the door to realize that the horrible stench filling his nostrils was coming from inside his locker. Sam swallowed thickly, trying not to gag. His mouth set, he spun the dial of the lock. He didn’t want to think about what could be inside, but he had a pretty good idea based on the smell alone. He fumbled with the combination and ended up having to go through it twice before the door clicked open.
Sam closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath. He flung the locker door open and jumped back with a yelp as dozens of small, dead fish poured out of his locker and onto the tile floor. “What the fuck?” Sam shouted.
He could see mold forming on some of the carcasses as the fish’s dead little eyes stared up at him from the pile on the ground. Sam pulled his gaze away, glancing up into his locker. There, taped to the shelf was a note addressed to him. Gingerly, Sam pulled the tape away and opened the fishy smelling paper.
There was a picture of a school of fish smack dab in the center, along with familiar handwriting.
‘Did you really think that anyone could ever like your giant freak ass? You’ve just been ‘schooled’—Loser. Love, Your Secret Admirer.’
Sam gulped and crumpled the note into a ball. His hands curled into fists and he felt his face heat, even as a tear forced itself out of the corner of his eye. If anyone noticed, he could explain it away due to the smell. He wasn’t going to cry over this. He absolutely wasn’t. He refused to give anyone the satisfaction of making him cry.
From behind him, the loud cackle of multiple voices burst out. Sam spun around and saw a group of roughly twelve boys and girls, mostly upperclassmen—all of them popular. They were laughing. At him. Some of the girls were pointing, their perfectly made up faces twisted in sick amusement, even as they pinched their noses to avoid the pungent smell of rotting fish. The boys were all clapping each other on the back and snorting with mirth.
In the center of all of them stood Cas’ older brother Gabriel Novak. The rather short junior had made a name for himself at the school as a prankster. He always had a joke at the ready and claimed to ‘live for the good times.’ He’d never been outright cruel—and especially not to Sam. In the last few months, Sam had come to think that Gabriel almost enjoyed his company whenever he and Cas had studied together. The look on Gabriel’s face told another story. He was smirking up at Sam, his eyes glittering.
“Hey Samuel,” Gabriel said. “I see you’ve been getting my notes.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. He’d secretly hoped that the notes had been from the older Novak. Sam knew that he wasn’t exactly subtle with the longing looks to his best friends big brother. And now that he knew the object of his affections was behind the whole thing, Sam wasn’t happy—he was sick. “Those were from you?”
Gabriel snickered and gestured at the pile of dead fish at Sam’s feet. “Especially this one.”
The crowd of popular students burst out laughing once more and Sam felt his eyes prick with tears. More students had begun to gather, noticing the commotion and jeering. Sam’s face was red with humiliation and what bordered on fury.
“Oh wow,” a cheerleader named Amelia shouted. “The giant moose is going to cry!”
Peals of laughter surrounded Sam, rushing into his ears and making the world seem to spin. He felt dizzy and he couldn’t catch his breath. Just as he thought he was going to tip over, strong arms circled his waist, hoisting him upright. “That’s enough!” Sam vaguely registered Castiel’s deep voice addressing the other students. “You’ve had your fun—childish as it is—now back off!” The tone didn’t allow for anyone to disobey.
The clusters of students began to wander off, many of them glancing at the pile of stinking fish bodies. Some made comments—none of them nice. Cas glared at each person as they walked away. Gabriel was the last to leave. He stared at the two misfits for a moment, something odd flashing across his features. But he didn’t speak. None of them did. Gabriel ducked his head almost imperceptibly toward Sam before spinning on his yellow Converse and trotting away.
“Oh, Sam,” Cas murmured once they were alone.
Sam couldn’t seem to hold his emotions back any longer. When the hallway was empty, save for his best friend and a pile of deceased sea life, Sam burst into tears. Cas patted his back and kept saying that he was ‘sorry,’ despite none of it being his fault. Sam felt pathetic. He felt used and humiliated and nauseous.
That night, after he’d returned to the empty apartment, Sam threw away all of the notes and whatever remained of the secret admirer gifts. He knew that he would never tell Dean what had happened, because his older brother would likely want to punch someone. Despite how horrible Gabriel’s ‘trick’ had been, Sam didn’t want Dean to kill him. Some sick and twisted part of Sam still cared about Gabriel. Which made him want to actually vomit.
Sam got into bed that night, the smell of fish still surrounding him and forced himself not to cry. He went about his days, trying to remain as anonymous as he possibly could until graduation, two years later. He never forgot what had happened, and he carried the experience with him. Sam Winchester told himself that he would never love someone—and he’d never eat fish—for as long as he lived.