A/N: I don't know where this came from. Its pre-series, first person from Sam's point of view… I really don't know what it is, but I hope you like it.
"I'm NOT going." I said pushing my plate away.
"Oh yes you are, young man." My father said. He had a tone to his voice. No not just a tone. That tone. Every kid in the history of time is familiar with that tone. I absolutely, one hundred percent with out a doubt, HATE that tone. That tone usually means me and my Dad were disagreeing. And, not that I was wrong, but I generally don't fair well in disagreements with him. It's not just me. I mean hell, you don't get to be co-captain of the debate team after only one month not being persuasive with my argument. It's him! According to him John Winchester is NEVER wrong… that belief certainly works in his favor since he IS John Winchester.
But I had to try anyway. "Dad, it's not fair! I worked SO hard on this debate."
Maybe this time he'd listen to me. Maybe this time he'd try reason. "You're going on this hunt." Maybe I could flap my wings and fly to the moon.
I still wouldn't give it up. "Dad, the team needs me!" I regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth.
"Our team needs you Sam." Yep. I totally set him up for that one, didn't I?
"You can't do this! It's MY life!"
Dad stood up. "Samuel." I swear that man could grow a whole foot when he wanted to. "I said you're going. If I have to say it again, we'll both be very sorry. Do. You. Understand. Me?"
His eyes told me there was only one right answer and any other one could make this situation worse. His eyed dared me to argue him. Dared me to say one smart mouth comment (and trust me I had plenty just waiting to go). But I wasn't in the mood to deal with a sore bottom (not that I ever was). I took a deep breath and barely stayed in control enough to say "Yes."
"Excuse me?" He said. He was really pushing it. Couldn't he just except my answer and excuse me from the table so that I could go to my room and scream and yell. Wouldn't that have been so much easier for everyone involved?
But no. now I had to try and dig even deeper into myself and force out a quiet "Yes, sir." I clamped my mouth shut before it got the best of me and I said something that made the situation even worse. Since he wasn't going to I asked if I could excuse myself from the table.
"Eat something first." He ordered.
"I already did." I said immediately hating myself for the way my words came out. That pathetic cracking voice that warned of the tears I begged not to begin.
"You had a bite of macaroni and cheese. That doesn't count as dinner."
"But I'm sure Dean'll bring me back something." My older brother'd been working in the library for the past three hours. He was allowed to go get pizza for dinner instead of coming home for whatever crap Dad decided to make that night. And while I'm on that subject, can anyone explain to me that logic? Dad was punishing Dean by forcing him to study at the library. Dean was failing pretty everything and he didn't want him making waves at the school because then Dad would have to come up with an excuse for why he could never come into the office and the whole thing was just way too much trouble. Meanwhile, here I am wanting to do something GOOD for school and I get punished by having to go on this hunt. And eat Dad's stupid mac and cheese even though I know for a fact that Dean'll bring me something when he comes back. Doesn't make sense to you? Me neither. Just thought I'd put it out there.
Didn't really matter cuz it all made perfect sense to Dad. "Eat." He said simply. The one word sentence. Touché Dad. He wouldn't let me win. Not once. I slowly stabbed on noodle with my fork, slowly placed it in my chewed and swallowed. I repeated the action. "Keep it up." Dad said putting his plate in the sink. "It'll take you another hour to finish. See if I care." That time I wasn't able to stop myself. I laughed. "What's so funny." Dad asked. I looked down at my plate. There was nothing I could say. There was no way I wouldn't end up in trouble telling my father that the idea of him caring about anything I did was just plain comical. "I asked you a question." He sat back down at the table, this time sitting right next to me in Dean's usual seat. "Sammy, look." He said. The tone was gone and replaced by another one. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "I know you don't always agree with what I say, but…don't you for one second think that I don't care about you." then he got up and went into the other room. I was floored. Part of me still wanted to rip his head off. I mean it wasn't like he was backing down. He was convinced that John Winchester was always right. But the other part of me was in awe. Was he possessed. He'd talked to me…like I was Dean or something. I didn't know what to do other than eat my dinner.