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Twelve years was a long time to hold a grudge, to feel a weight of guilt and hatred in her heart. But every single time Fiona looked down the hallway towards the first floor girls’ bathroom, she felt it. It was like a vice.
Every student that had her as a teacher knew she was not one to fuck around with. If you were going to be a dick, if you were going to be a bully, and if she ever found out or had an inkling, she was on you in a heartbeat, finding a way to punish you without punishing you. People weren’t scared of her – and really, why would they be? She was barely 5’6, her auburn hair was always up in a loose ponytail, and her hazel eyes sparkled with affection when she looked at the students.
But she could be vicious, if she had to be.
Bullying was on a shortlist of things she did not, would not, tolerate. The easiest she had been was giving one student detention just for looking at another kid with an I’m going to kick your ass look. They thought she was overreacting, but honestly, she was tired, and she still had a fracture in her heart that was never going to get better. Something she refused to share, but not out of fear. She wasn’t ready.
Twelve years, and she still wasn’t ready to open up.
But she stood in the hallway, peering into Mr. Wyatt’s room as he spoke to a tall brunet, wringing her hands in front of her as she waited. The door was cracked open, just a little, just enough that, in passing, she heard him introduce himself as Sam Winchester. And that was all she needed to stop, back up, and wait. It was all she needed to consider that maybe it was time.
It was a name far enough back in her memory that there was still pain and sadness attached around it. And when he opened the door to come out, she sniffled softly, and followed him a few steps.
“Excuse me…Are you Sam?” He stopped quickly, and spun around at her voice, looking down as she hesitated.
“…Yes?” He was hesitant, and unsure, as she bit her lip, and looked down at her hands.
“I’m sorry…um…look…I never met you, and we never knew each other,” she prefaced, holding up her hands as she met his gaze. “But we had…a mutual friend…a long time ago.” Knitting his brow together, Sam peered around the empty hall, and shrugged.
“…Okay?”
“You knew…Barry Cook?” she asked.
“…yeah. Barry was a good friend…”
“Barry was my brother.”
Sam was struck silent as he and Fiona looked at each other, quiet, confusion in his eyes, tears in hers. Barry had a sister? He never mentioned it – though, Sam reminded himself, he hadn’t been around long enough to learn anything about his friend’s family. That sadness in her eyes as he looked at her made the guilt he had for burning his bones weigh heavier in his stomach, as he finally cleared his throat, and she sighed.
“I don’t…want to keep you. Or…I mean…” She paused, and shook her head, chuckling at herself.
“I didn’t know he had a sister,” Sam blurted, as she blushed, and nodded.
“He…talked about you. Our parents had split up…he lived with Dad…Mom took me and moved us to another district. He and I…we called…every night. Barry wasn’t well. Kids picked on him.” Sam nodded slowly, remembering the days he had been there, years earlier.
“What’s your name?”
“Fiona. Fiona Cook.” He smiled at her, apologetically and sweetly, and she smiled back, before running a hand across her face. “I don’t know…if I’m keeping you from…from something you have to be doing, or somewhere you need to be going…”
She was, sort of. He hadn’t planned on sticking around any longer than he had to, just to talk to Mr. Wyatt and get back in the car, drive off to the next case, to the next monster. To the next hunt that wasn’t going to dredge up memories like this one had. But Sam didn’t say that to her. He didn’t hint at it. He shrugged, and shook his head, prompting her to continue.
“…would you…would you come with me? Just to my classroom – it’s…down the hall a little ways,” she asked hopefully. He shouldn’t, he knew he should go back outside, meet his brother…but she was practically begging, and he agreed, turning to follow her.
For a few moments, neither said anything, until she fumbled a key from her pocket, and sighed.
“His last year here…he was a different person. He was sad, and angry, at everything. He hated mom for taking me away. He hated dad, but he never had a reason. He hated everyone at school, because they picked on him, they bullied him. Some nights, when I called him, he hated me for not being there with him. Dad took him to the doctor, Barry was on…everything, anything, to help.” Sam knew where this was going, but it didn’t stop the sharp prick in his heart as her face fell. “The day he killed himself, in the bathroom down the hall…My world came crashing down. I was pulled out school early…mom was a wreck…dad was a wreck…it took an hour for them to tell me what happened…” Tears were brimming her eyes again as she opened the door marked Ms. Cook – Geometry, and led him inside.
“I’m really, very sorry about what happened to Barry…I never knew, not until a few days ago.” Fiona looked at him, a little surprised, but nodded her head. How could he have known? She knew his name, from what Barry had told her, but he didn’t even know where Sam had gone – he just left one day, and all Barry had from it was a wave from the classroom window.
“He talked about you…all the time…” Fiona said softly, setting her key on her desk, and turning to face him. “Barry liked having you around. Said you defended him from one of his bullies?”
“I tried…while I was here.”
“You made him feel important, Sam. That someone cared enough to defend him.” She smiled, sweetly, up at the man who, a moment ago, was a complete stranger. “When you left…he was sad, but…but he tried to believe that things happen for a reason. So he didn’t dwell on you leaving him so much as you had to go, to do bigger and better things.” Sam shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging, as she opened the top drawer of her desk. “Barry had a few good months after you left, where he was happy, and confident. When Thanksgiving came, and Dad and Mom put aside their differences to have a family holiday, so we could see each other, we took pictures. I had never seen him so happy. And I have to tell you, Sam…it was you that did it.”
“We were kids, Fiona, I just tried to make it ea-“ She held up her hands, a photograph in either.
“Sam…look…this picture was his school picture, taken before he ever met you,” she said, handing him a photograph of Barry. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and he could see the sadness behind his glasses. The second picture she handed him, from the holidays after Sam left, Barry was happy, and laughing, and smiling, and hugging the girl he assumed was Fiona. “That was Thanksgiving. You made that difference in my brother, by being his friend.”
“I tried to help…because I hated being the freak…and we moved around a lot, and I was a lot different than everyone else, so I was the freak every single time. Besides…Barry was great, he didn’t deserve bullies.”
“I never thought I would ever meet the Great Sam Winchester,” she chuckled, carefully taking the photos back and tucking them into her drawer. “So I’m…really flustered as far as what I want to say to you.”
“I’m not great, Fiona, I’m really not. Hell, if you knew half the things I’ve done, you’d be wishing I never looked at your brother.” She was around the desk in a heartbeat, her hands on his arms, as she stared up at him.
“I’m not looking at the rest of your life, Sam. I’m looking at the way you changed my brother’s life, even if just for a few weeks. Barry was depressed, and the bullies didn’t help. Yes, they picked up again the following year…and yes…yes, my brother took his life in the girl’s bathroom in this building,” she said softly, her voice breaking as her lip trembled. “But he would have done it sooner, had you not been here. I know, because he told me. You were the reason he didn’t do it earlier. And because of that, I got a whole year with him I wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
Sam had no idea what to say to that. As awful a thing as it was, he was accustomed to trying to save people, only to have them die anyways. It was happening more frequently as time went on, but he was never going to be used to it, he was never going to accept it, or like it. But he was never going to know what to say when someone thanked him, despite failing at saving someone’s life, when someone just thanked him for trying. So instead, he stared at her, baffled, until a soft smile formed on her lips.
“No one could save Barry…he was my brother, and I loved him more than anything in the world…and I would have given everything to keep him alive, to keep him with me. But I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t here, I was too far away. He needed a friend. He needed a break. And your presence for a month gave him that break, gave him that friend, and he didn’t leave me for another year. And that is a year…that I cherish, I really do.” She pursed her lips, before leaning up, and pressing a swift but sweet kiss to his cheek. “I have wanted to thank you…for ten years.”
There was a quirk of his brow, as the math ran through his head, and she shrugged slightly when she caught it.
“…I spent a year away from the world and hating everyone because of what happened. But when I found myself again…I wanted to thank you. But I didn’t know how to find you.” She shrugged again, and patted his arms, blushing. “Thank you, Sam Winchester, for giving me another year with my brother.”
What could he say to that? What else could he do? With a soft sigh, and a nod, Sam wrapped his arms around Fiona, and gave her a gentle hug that she didn’t fight, that she returned enthusiastically, her face buried against his chest.
“You’re welcome, Fiona.”