Sam was fussy. His teeth were coming in and teething rings were working. John was growing desperate, hearing his one year old cry and there was nothing he could do for him. Dean could watch the frustration spreading on his dad's face. And he wasn't dumb.
"Dad, I have an idea." Dean said. John looked at him.
"Fine. Show me. Because I'm all out." Dean nodded and settled the crying kid on his lap. He wrapped his arms around him and tried different songs. "Hey Jude", the one Mary used to sing to him, was the first song. He tried some of the others he heard on the radio, but nothing seemed to work.
"Dean, just give him to me." John said. "I'll try rubbing some whiskey on his gums or something…"
"Wait." Dean said. He played with Sam's soft hair and started to sing again. A song that had been playing on John's radio a lot recently and Dean had picked up the words. "Carry on my wayward son…" To John's amazement, Sam stopped crying, quieting to only whimpers. John smiled at his sons.
"There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more." John sang, helping Dean with the song. Sam relaxed, using his teething toy finally and calming down. "Thank god. You did good son." John said, ruffling Dean's hair. "I'll remember that for future reference." Dean smiled happily, looking down at Sam.
But John learned later that night, that only Dean could calm Sam with singing the song.
17 years later found Sam standing by himself at a bus station. It was overcast, a storm threatening to break. But a storm had already hit at the last motel the Winchester's had stayed at. That's why Sam was by himself. He had gotten a gift for his birthday from Joshua. He had done a hunt for someone who claimed they owed him big, so they gave him one of the new, top of the line mp3 players, which ended up in Sam's hands. It didn't hold many songs, and the battery probably wouldn't last the whole trip to California, but at least for a little bit, Sam could be in his own world, and maybe drown out the words that his dad had said.
If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back.
Sam put his headphones on and stepped onto the bus with his two bags. He didn't have much. In fact, everything in his bags is pretty much everything he had when he lived with them, minus one or two articles of clothing that might be in the trunk of his brother's car. He settled himself down into a seat, a little nervous about going someplace new by himself.
That's when the song came on his mp3 player. The song that Dean sang to him to help him relax, or calm him when he was scared. It gave him the strength to move on.
Carry on my wayward son…
The mud was soaking into Dean's jeans as he cradled Sam's body against his. His big little brother seemed so small as he laid in his arms. He expected him to wake up, to look at him with those big puppy eyes.
Damn it Sammy, just open your damn eyes, please…
But there was only quiet and still. Bobby was still off chasing down the guy. Dean had never seen him before, but he would never forget what he looked like. That bastard took his baby brother away from him. Dean kept his arms wrapped around Sam, trying to keep him warm. He buried his head in Sam's hair. God, he had so much of it. When he woke up, he was going to tell him he needed a haircut…
When Bobby came back, he found Dean kneeling on the cold ground, holding Sam, singing an old Kansas song as he rocked his little brother back and forth like he did when they were kids.
Sam hadn't cried since the hellhounds ripped Dean to shreds. He didn't really feel anything. That was how Ruby got him. She fed him lie after lie, told him she could make him strong. Told him he could get revenge on the demon that took his brother to hell. So when she offered him her wrist, pale skin red with blood, Sam didn't think twice. He just drank it and left her asleep in the motel room they had been sharing.
The Impala. That was his home. His true home. The one place that kept him safe. So he drove it to an alleyway to keep himself hidden while he slept. He grabbed that old leather jacket that had been handed down from father to son, and from brother to brother, to use as a blanket. The rain was falling steadily as Sam watched out the window. He was doing the right thing. So why did he feel so wrong?
He turned on the radio. Even if it was just for a few minutes, it would help him relax. Except it didn't. Because the song that came on made him think too much of the brother he let down, the brother he let go to hell for him.
Lay your weary head to rest…
Tears started to fall freely from Sam's eyes. He had told himself he wouldn't cry anymore, but he had let Dean down in so many ways. He had screwed up so bad. Curling up onto his side, he made himself as small as he could, remembering the good old days when it was just him and Dean in the car, the road ahead of them and nothing holding them back.
Sam fell asleep dreaming about those days again.
In his mind, he stared down the devil. He was laughing at Sam, taunting him. Sam was fighting back and Lucifer couldn't do whatever he wanted. But he would soon. Soon, Sam would be gone and nothing would hold him back. He dragged that poor boy back to Kansas, made him watch as he bashed in his brother's face, blew up a good friend of his, and snapped the neck of the man that had been more of a father to him than his own had. It was killing Sam. He was screaming. He was trapped and he couldn't get out.
Until he saw the Impala, with the Legos stuck in the vent and the solider shoved in the ashtray. Until he saw their names carved in the seat and a smiling Dean after he tucked a spoon into Sam's mouth…
Until he heard that song, that song that told him he had strength to get through the tough things.
Carry on my wayward son…
"Son of a bitch." Lucifer hissed as Sam pushed him back and locked him in a room.
There'll be peace when you are done…
"Sammy?" Dean whispered through broken features and a cracked spirit.
Lay your weary head to rest…
"It's okay Dean. I got him." Sam responded. He was growing weak. He didn't know how much longer he could hold him back. So he opened the gate and fell through with Adam holding on to him.
Don't you cry no more…
But Dean did. Sam's soul cried out for him. There was no peace like they thought there would be. There was just surviving.
But that song kept him going, just like it did Sam.
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