Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Love and Duty	By : rae_roberts Category: Supernatural > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 3443 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural and make no profit from this story. Just borrowing Papa Winchester and his boys for fun.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
“You know, you could probably help Ms. Mosely teach school,” Dean suggested.
They’d been walking aimlessly around the estate with little to say to one another. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he looked over at his fiance, suspicious of another attempted joke at his expense. “It’s May,” he pointed out. “Isn’t school almost over for the summer?”
“No, it’s just starting…” Dean frowned for a moment, but then his expression cleared. “You really are a city boy. Our kids don’t have school in the spring, or the fall, either. Too much farm work to be done,” he explained. “The summer term just started.”
Sam watched the older boy’s expression closely, but Dean didn’t seem to be teasing. “Would your father let me?”
Dean scoffed at that, his green eyes sparkling. “Are you kidding? Dad’s all about people working. Come on, let’s swing by the schoolhouse and you can at least meet Ms. Mosely,” he said, warming to the idea. If Sam was occupied with teaching school, that would free up at least part of Dean’s day. His dad’s scheme to have him somehow fall in love with this quiet, reserved city boy over the course of the next month wasn’t going to happen. He and Sam had nothing in common...Dean shut down that line of thought, not wanting to dwell on what would happen in the months to come.
“Whose kids are these, anyway?” Sam breathed when they reached the schoolyard. It was obviously recess time, with nearly two dozen children running around the grassy yard, swinging on swings or kicking a ball around in a disorganized soccer game.
“People on the estate,” Dean said nonchalantly.
Sam thought of John Winchester’s foreman, Bobby Singer, or the terrifying Pamela Barnes, captain of the land baron’s private guard. It was impossible to imagine any of the higher-ups on the estate as the parent of a child, except for Ellen Harvelle, whose own daughter, Jo, was enthusiastically pushing a younger girl on one of the swings. He gave Dean a skeptical look. “Which people?”
“Just people.”   Dean’s expression made it clear he didn’t understand what Sam was getting at.
“You’re telling me just ordinary ranch workers, farm hands, they can afford kids?”
“My father pays fair wages,” Dean said proudly. “With a couple of years of good harvests even the field hands can save up enough to adopt a baby."
“‘Adopt’ a baby.” Sam snorted at the euphemism.
“Well, yeah, they adopt. They’re not making babies on their own,” Dean scoffed.
“Will you introduce me to Ms. Mosely?” Sam asked, too intrigued by the prospect of a job to pursue another argument with his blissfully ignorant fiance. He, too, had been dreading a month of enforced ‘courting’ with Dean. Working at the school would fill the hours and give him a sense of purpose beyond the hated epithet of ‘breeder’.
“That’s what we’re here for.” Dean led the way to the modest wooden structure that served as the estate’s school.
Sam followed, waving at Jo on the way across the playground and getting a cheerful wave in return.
“Ms. Mosely, it is my honor to introduce my fiance, Sam Harvelle.”
Sam was privately amused to see Dean behaving so properly, as if the twenty-year-old was still slightly intimidated by the schoolteacher. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
“Likewise, Sam. What brings you boys back to school on such a fine summer day?”
“Sam taught school back in St. Louis,” Dean supplied, “and we were wondering if maybe you could use some help for the summer term.”
“I might could,” Missouri Mosely said. “What subjects are you interested in?”
“Math,” Sam said promptly. “I earned top marks in algebra, geometry, and trigonometry.”
“I don’t know as we have much need for trigonometry,”—Sam’s face fell at this news—”but I could sure use a referee. Do you know anything about soccer, Sam?”
“Um, yes, ma’am?”
“Well, then, you’re hired!” she said emphatically. “These kids are always bickering over their soccer games. It’s enough to wear me out,” she said, her soft, sweet voice only sharpening slightly to convey her exasperation. “I wouldn’t mind some assistance in the classroom, either. You can start tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Sam said, beaming.
“Thank you, ma’am,” the two young men chorused.
“Thanks for thinking of that, Dean,” Sam offered as they left the schoolyard behind.
He shrugged. “Works out for both of us. I’ve got my own work to do,” Dean added, once again driving home his lack of interest in their engagement and eventual marriage.
A marriage that would take place all too soon. Sam gave a shrug of his own and veered off from Dean to walk toward another of the estate’s outbuildings, this one painted bright white in contrast to the other rustic, weathered wood and stone buildings. “What’s this place?”
“Chapel,” Dean said laconically, trailing after him. “Dad built it in honor of my mother, after she died.”
“It looks like a church, you know, from olden times.”
“That’s what it’s supposed to look like.” Dean opened the arched, gothic-style door and led the way inside, where wooden pews stood in two neat lines leading up to a raised dais where a cloth-draped table held gleaming candlesticks. Light gleamed in rainbow colors across the white tablecloth, shining down from the stained-glass window depicting an angel in Roman armor wielding a flaming sword.
Sam gave a whistle of appreciation. “I suppose that was salvaged from the ruins of an old church?”
“I guess so.” Dean turned his eyes away from the glowing display of color. “I don’t know why, but it gives me the creeps.”
Obviously, the marriage ceremony would be held here. “What happened to your mother?” Sam asked to avoid thinking about their upcoming nuptials.
“Fever,” Dean said shortly. “You know, one of those things we used to have medicines for. One day she was fine and the next, she just burnt up.” He shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact, but Sam thought he detected a deep sorrow in those green eyes. “I was four when she died.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said sincerely.
“Yeah, well, at least I can remember her, sort of.”
Sam nodded. “I was taken from my parents when I was so little, I don’t remember them at all.   Easier, I guess,” he said philosophically.
“I’m sorry even so,” Dean said gruffly. “Just because the system is necessary, it’s a shame that breed—I mean, child-bearers,” he corrected himself hastily—don’t get more of a say in it.”

Sam’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Dean’s sentiments were unexpected, but welcome. And he had to admit, his fiance was at least trying to overcome his ignorance. “Thanks, Dean.”
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Love and Duty