The School for Wayward Children

Chapter Twenty One- Reality

"How are you today, John?"

John glowered at the school's counsellor, Missy. The psychiatrist's eyes burned into his face with an intense gaze, making the younger boy fidgety.

"I'm fine."

"Really? Mr Smith said he overheard you telling Dean Winchester you were talking to a ghost. That doesn't say fine to me. But you want to know something? Most people don't-"

"Mr Smith?"

"He's the history teacher. Now-"

"He's not on the staff list. How come?"

"It was a last minute posting, but that doesn't matter. Why-"

"But no one's heard of him before. Have you met him yet?"

"Mister Watson!" Missy shouted, finally losing her temper. Her Scottish accent gave her words extra ferocity. John's mouth snapped shut. "Thank you. Now, how about we-"

The school bell screamed shrilly over the ageless woman's head. She closed her eyes resignedly, listening to the pupil hurriedly vacate the room. She sighed to herself.

"It's almost like he doesn't want to go back to reality."

___________________________

"Good morning, class. My name is Mr Smith and I'll be taking you for this year."

The Doctor was staring wide eyed at the history teacher. He was sure he'd seen this Mr Smith before- he was almost certain of it, though he didn't know how. The mystery professor was tall and skinny, with spiky brown hair and kind eyes. He wore a brown pinstriped suit, a brown leather trenchcoat slung over the chairs. Snowy trainers adorned his feet. The Doctor nodded to himself. The teacher had style.

"Since this is our first lesson, we'll just be getting exercise books ready and completing booklets. These booklets will let me know how much you know. Now, if everyone could grab a blue exercise book..."

His voice faded into the background as the Doctor busied himself with his equipment. He'd managed to secure a table with Amy, Rory and Anna, the girls sitting opposite the boys and chatting incessantly about Mr Smith's hair.

"It's so... tall! How does he get it to stay up like that?"

"Maybe he uses product?"

"Ooh! I wonder which one! It looks like it works really well."

"I might ask so I can get some. God knows I need it!"

"Really, guys?" Rory asked exasperatedly.

"What?"

"What did we do?"

"It's just hair!"

"So?"

"Yeah, what's the problem?"

"So why spend so long sorting it out?"

"Because... because!"

"Yeah, do your work!"

Rory just shook his head and filled in his name in his scrawling handwriting. Amy doing the same in neat little letters, Anna's words looping and elegant. The Doctor looked down at his own book and was surprised to find that, instead of his name, the lines were filled with a variety of perfect circles and starburst lines. Anna looked over and frowned.

"What the hell is-"

"Can I help you?"

Mr Smith was smiling kindly at Castiel, who was stood by the door, surveying the room expressionlessly. He cleared his throat.

"You moved me up in class, Mr Smith. You said I should come to this lesson instead of the First Year ones."

"That I did. Well, find a seat."

Cas made a beeline for their table, plonking himself down in a chair and grabbing a fresh exercise book. Anna raised an eyebrow.

"He moved you up?"

"I guess all those documentaries paid off."

Rory laughed. "Clearly."

"How you feeling, Cassie?"

"Cas. And I'm fine."

"Really? You seemed kinda shaken by the Man in Black."

"It actually gave me a strange kind of clarity. We only have one life. Why waste it being scared?"

Amy grinned. "Hear hear!"

"You five!" Mr Smith called. "Are you doing your work?"

"Yes, sir!"

___________________________

"Finally! I'm starving!" Dean whined as he slumped into his chair. He was the last to arrive at their table, as he'd been served last. This meant his food was cold, congealing into an unidentifiable mass of pasta, bacon, and cheese sauce. He pushed it round his plate despondently. "How can they call this food?"

"I can't taste it," Cas sighed. Anna nodded in agreement.

"I can, just about," Gabriel grinned. "A lack of taste buds must run in the family." He nodded at Dean's mixed slushee. "I bet Meg would like that."

"Again with the 'Meg'!" Anna exclaimed, slamming her fork down on the table. "Who is she?"

"I don't know!"

"Then why talk about her so much?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Dunno. It just kind of... slips out." Dean choked on his food.

"Does it now? Meg just slips out your mouth, does she?"

"Shut up, Dean. You know what I mean."

"Hey! That rhymes!" the Doctor informed them brightly. Dean was still sniggering, Cas looking slightly confused.

"I don't understand the reference."

"Good!" Amy exclaimed. "We want to keep him as innocent as possible!"

"Good luck with that!" Rory grinned good naturedly. Cas rolled his eyes, chatting with Sam instead. John was slumped in his chair, head in one hand, muttering to himself. Dean's good humour faded.

"Hey, John. How you doing man?"

"What?" John looked up, he seemed distracted. "Oh, I'm fine. Have you met the school councilor yet?"

"Not yet, no."

"She's a right weirdo. She's Scottish."

"What, and those things are connected?" Amy asked, eyebrow raised. John's eyes widened.

"I don't- that's not- I'm not..." John spluttered, turning crimson. Amy laughed, the rest soon joining in.

Squirrel.

Dean's laughter cut off abruptly, the boy paling as the word continued to reverberate around his brain. Squirrel? What a random word to have stuck in him head, yet... that wasn't his voice. Sam frowned at him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Squirrel, listen to me- we don't have much time. Sherlock's not dead.

"What do you mean? Of course Sherlock's dead!" Dean exclaimed. His friends gaped at him.

Well, in this reality, yes, he's dead. But this isn't reality. At least, it's not your one. You need to wake up.

"I am awake."

No, you're not. Let me show you what awake looks like.

Dean's vision went black, his head thumping on the table as he passed out.

A/N: yay, update!

Question: who do you think the Man in Black is?

Hint: you'll have better luck guessing if you read the previous book

Love you guys!!! xxxxx