A/N: I love Stanford Era Supernatural fan fiction, but surprisingly there isn't that much of it out there. So I decided to write some myself, hence my first piece of fan fiction. I originally planned on this being from Sam's point of view. Then I thought it'd be from Dean's point of view. Somehow or other it ended up being from John's point of view (this part at least). Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.
The house- motel was too quiet for John's liking. It was too much like when Dean was little- wouldn't say a word if he was around... If anyone was around, anyone except Sammy. Then again Sammy could make anyone talk- yell even. But no, Sammy- Sam wasn't there anymore and it was quiet.
Sam had left on Saturday... Technically he left at two o'clock Sunday morning. They screamed and yelled and made empty threats. "You'll be sorry," Sam yelled his face practically violet. Both of them would be sorry, they should be. Dean should have taken his side, but no... He just sat there, and Dean never just sat there. But Dean just sat there and for the first time they felt like strangers. If John hadn't been there Dean would have been happy. Dean would have been proud. But the one time Sam didn't want him there John had nothing better to do than ruin his moment.
John didn't do sorry though. Never had, and he was afraid if he started now it would just swallow him whole. There was so manny things to be sorry for- still are things to be sorry for. But he didn't owe Sam an apology- no, Sam had turned out just fine. That was Dean's doing of course, but it was easier or John to ignore that fact. If he didn't it would mean it was his fault Dean was a mess- that Dean wasn't talking to him again. Someday Dean would forgive him- probably already had, and some how that just made it that much worse.
If Marry was here she'd kill him. Then again if Marry was here they wouldn't be. They'd be at home talking about some sporting event- or fussing over Sam going to college. But today was Sunday, and Marry wasn't there- she'd never be there again. And for a second he prayed that his sons never loved someone- never lost someone they loved. That guy- the one who said it's better to have loved and lost or what ever- yeah well John thought he was an idiot.
It certainly wasn't better for him, and Dean- Dean was quiet and it scared him. But Dean had always been like that- if you really knew him. John knew his sons, even if his youngest didn't think so- it just sometimes he didn't pay close attention to the details. Some hunter he was. He ate Sam's cereal. The cereal that Dean apparently gets ready for Sam on Sundays- because Sam's to damn lazy to get up and pour his own damn cereal.
It wasn't fair, John knew that. Life's not fair- should have hammered that into Sam's head back when he was still Sammy. All day long he'd watched Dean do things for Sam, and then this look of horror would come across Dean's face when it hit him Sam wasn't there anymore- and damn he looked so young, looked so like Marry. Dean wouldn't say anything, so John screamed at him- if Dean had been Sam he'd have yelled back, but Dean was Dean.
The problem was Sam was too much like John- he should have been more like Dean. John wasn't the silent type, he'd yell and argue himself blue- but you can't have a conversation like that. There can only be one yeller in a conversation- 'I came first,' John thought childishly even though Sam wasn't there with some argument to respond with. But he knew how to talk to Sam, talking to Dean had always been like tiptoeing through a field of land mines... in the dark... with a demon on your ass. One wrong move and Dean would go silent and put one of his masks on- just like Marry.
Marry always won fights, not that they'd had many. He'd scream and throw things and make ultimatums, and in turn she'd go silent. The first time she'd done it he hadn't even noticed, he'd thought he'd won, but Marry showed him. By the end of the weak she had him groveling without ever saying a word- he can't even remember what they had fought about anymore.
He was so shocked when Dean first did it- Marry on the other hand just smiled triumphantly "I win," her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Yeah, just wait Sammy gonna be smart and take after me- yell like a man," John said playfully pretending to be hurt. Marry just snorted pulling Dean into her lap, "guess it up to me and you to have enough sense for both of them."
Dean had always been too serious, hurt too deeply, hid it too well. "Why don't you grow up Dean." Sam had said it a million times, in hundreds of different contexts. Stop pranking me, we're to old for that. Your an adult for Pete's sake, you don't have to do what Dad says. Don't go off on another hunt, don't get hurt again, get a adult job, a safe job. "Why don't you grow down Sasquatch." It was always the same response, and while Sam intend his to hurt John, Deans response always hurt more. Life's hard, enjoy the small things. I grew up too fast, please be Sammy a little while longer. Stay small and innocent where I can protect you, don't get big and decide you don't need anyone... That you don't need me.
He'd done Dean wrong, but he'd done right by Sammy- he was sure of that now. He made Dean make Sam the center of his world- not that he wouldn't have done it anyway. And when Sam wanted to go he let him- hell he even made it a clean break. Sam was like him, he'd power forward, he'd get normal, and no matter how much he missed them his pride would keep him from ruining his new life with Supernatural things.
Dean on the other hand was crushed. For years Dean had been in the middle, slowly shaving off bits of himself to make the three of them fit together better. Always sacrificing himself for them, and now he had nothing to show for it. John cold talk himself into believing he'd done everything right for Sammy- that his reason had been selfless like Dean and not his usual selfish pigheaded stubbornness. But looking at Dean the evidence was overwhelming.
John didn't do sorry- but if he did, now would be the time. "You know I was thinking about buying a truck," John started tentatively looking at Dean laying haphazardly half on the couch half on the floor. But with those words Dean fell completely on the floor, his eyes wide- horrified. The Impala was his home, Sammy was his life- job. Dean had turned a greenish white color, but he didn't say anything and instead he just thought about lying there until the world ended- or he woke up, which ever came first.
John knew where Dean thoughts were heading and frowned before picking up the keys to the impala and tossing them to Dean, "take care of her, your good at that you know." I'm proud of you. You did good, raised Sam right. Wish I could of done better by you. I'm sorry, so sorry. Sorry that Sam's right- on somethings. Sorry Marry died. Just sorry.
Dean's eyes lit up for a second, but John could never make them light up like Sam could. Sam's first word. Sam's first steps. Sam's first nerdy factoid or annoying argument. No John would always be second, but the light in Deans eyes was enough. I still love you though I won't talk to you. I'll stay by you even though you're wrong. I don't care that you wronged me, I don't need or want better. This is good enough for me, it's alway been good enough or me. Yes, Sam had never known how to hurt him the way Dean could- make him angry as hell, sure- but Dean, so much like Marry, could cut him with silence so much deeper than any words ever could. Sometimes it's the things you don't say that hurt the most.