A/N: This is my first fanfiction story, hopefully it isn't horrible.:D Thanks so much for checking it out! Criticism and praise welcome always.

Goodbye, Sam Kenxi

"I'm leaving for Stanford, tonight."

Sam didn't turn his gaze away from Dean as he said this, didn't blink or move. The words just slid off of his tongue like they were simple, like they didn't crush Dean's lungs so he couldn't breathe. Or rip out his heart and stomp on it. At the thought, Dean made a sound that resembled a laugh. The way he was thinking made it sound like he had just broken up with his girlfriend or something. Sam could be a girl at sometimes though.

Dean could feel Sam's gaze on him as he bit his lip and tilted his head back, letting the air fall out of his mouth in a sigh. After Sam had spoken, the temperature had seemingly dropped considerably cooler. Under normal circumstances would Dean have suspected a ghost be the cause of it, or some other supernatural being within an origin unknown to most humans in the world. He would have yelled at Sam to run and get something to rid of it. But these weren't normal circumstances.

Sam was leaving. He was leaving for good.

Well perhaps not for good…at least the hope of such had been sparked in Dean. He had no idea how long Sam planned to be at school, or if he would ever return to their small, broken, and cursed family afterwards.

"Dean, look man, I'm sorry-"

"Don't," Dean cut him off. His voice held surprisingly steady. In fact, the tone of it was cold. Ice cold. "You've made your decision." He paused, looking at the ground. "And I have certainly made mine. I hope you find what you're looking for, Sammy."

With that he turned his back on his brother, knowing well that the action would hurt Sam, albeit not too bad. Sam was going to be making a life, escaping their father, escaping the world that they lived in. Maybe even for good. Nothing could hurt Sam at this point.

Dean, however, was completely free game for pain.

Nearly everything that he had ever done in his life was for his brother. Everything else he did for his family, which included Sam, and for civilians. All that he wanted was for everyone to be happy and safe. The same reason he hadn't stayed with Sonny and Robin. He could have made a life there, but then again he couldn't have. Because he had Sam. He would never leave Sam alone. Dean had just never considered that it would be Sam doing the leaving.

Ever since he was old enough to understand, and even before that, his dad was always ingraining it in Dean's head to protect Sam at all costs. How could he protect him if Sam was at Stanford? Dean had once had his chance to leave but he didn't because of Sam. But of course if Sam has the option of freedom from the supernatural world, he goes ahead and takes it? It wasn't fair. He felt like such a girl- the very thing that he often accused Sam for being- even thinking it, but that was how he felt. None of this was fair. It wasn't fair that his mother died, or that he and his brother were raised as hunters while everyone else got to live their peaceful lives while the Winchesters and the few other hunters out there, saved them. It wasn't fair that Dean had to stay in that life while Sam got to leave and live a normal one of his own.

Though he would never say it out loud, Sam leaving him, them, it hurt. Hurt him in ways that he could not explain to Sam. And even if he tried, it would only make Sam feel sorry for Dean and feel bad himself. Although he was angry, angry at Sam for leaving, he understood it. The idea of leaving the family business often sounded inviting sometimes. But if he wasn't going to protect people from the world they knew nothing about, who would? It was hardly an option, he had to stay.

Before he made it to the door of the old, abandoned barn, Sam's voice stopped him. "I don't want to leave you, Dean," The courage and calm had been stripped from Sam's voice. It was raw and full of sadness. The anger vanished and a twinge of remorse entered Dean's heart. Or what was left of it. "-but it's not like I have much of a choice. It's Dad, this life. You know that, Dean. You know how much I hate it, how much I want to be normal, and have a normal life, away from this. I hope you know that it's not your fault." By the time he had finished, Sam was basically pleading with his brother. He didn't have to though, Dean could easily imagine how torn he was having to explain this to Dean. Heck, they were in an abandoned barn nearby the motel they were staying at for goodness sakes. Probably so John wouldn't know about Stanford. Sam was probably never going to tell him. Which meant Dean would have to.

Dean had his head turned slightly towards his brother's voice, but he wouldn't look at him. His eyes burned slightly but he made sure no tears fell. He had to be tough right now, just like always. He knew he should say something, perhaps ask him about the future and if he would ever come back. Or he could say how sad he was to see him go. But there was nothing he could say that would change anything really. Nothing he could do. Besides, Dean Winchester wasn't one for chick flick moments, and this had gone far enough, that's what he told himself was the reason. So instead he said the only thing he felt he could say.

"Goodbye, Sam."

And then he pushed the door open and strode out into the night.

00000

Sam watched as Dean walked away, throwing the door closed behind him. The old door back and forth against the frame of the barn, allowing him to catch glimpses of his brother as he headed in the direction of the motel. It was not lost on Sam that Dean had strode past the Impala- which they had taken to get here- so that Sam would be able to drive home instead of walking. He shook his head. Of course, even when he was clearly upset, Dean was still thinking of Sam instead of himself. But although Dean had left him the car, he had also left.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

No, the plan had originally been simple. He was going to make dinner tonight, his dad's favorite dish, and then break the new that he was leaving in an hour. Sam had written out a short speech to say, memorized it, and planned to give it. Everything was going to be just fine.

But then the plan changed.

It was just a few minutes before Sam started making dinner when Dean found the acceptance letter Sam had thought was hidden safely inside his duffle bag. Dad was in the shower but Dean still didn't talk too loud, they both knew that if John Winchester found out about the letter, chaos would break loose.

The volume of Dean's voice, however, did not seem to matter. The tone of it and the look on his face was just as bad as him yelling. "Why, Sam?" Dean held up the paper in front of him and blinked hard. He had expected Dean to be angry, and as hard as Sam could tell he was trying to be, he knew that Dean was far more saddened by this new than he was mad at him. Sam suddenly felt cold. His older brother had always been far smarter than him, though not in text books but simply life itself. He didn't even have to ask if Sam was going; he knew.

Dean looked at the ground. "When are you leaving?" The sentence was a question, but it sure didn't sound like one. It sounded… defeated. As if Dean Winchester had been fighting a battle for so long and now it appeared as if he had lost.

"Tonight," the sound was soft and came out a whole lot quieter than Sam had hoped it too.

Dean bit his lip before calling out, "Hey, Dad! Me and Sammy are gonna go on a short drive. The baby looks like she could use one. We'll be back in ten."

That was how they had ended up at the abandoned barn.

At first Dean had paced. The sudden information that had just been thrown in his face must have hurt. Sam suspected that Dean had always alleged that Sam planned on leaving for school eventually. His brother was smart enough, but when Sam had watched quietly, unsure of what to say while Dean paced back and forth inside the dark wooden room, now he didn't know what to think. Had Dean really always thought that Sam was actually going to live like this? Maybe Dean was a perfect little soldier for their father, but Sam just… wasn't. He had thought for sure that Dean had understood that. If he was wrong about that, what else had he misunderstood about his brother?

After a couple of minutes, Dean seemed to have regained control. His face was grim, the filtered moonlight from outside made his cheekbones seem sharper, his eyes hard like a hunter's. "I assume you haven't told Dad yet."

Sam shook his head, knowing Dean would be able to see it.

Dean nodded. "You don't have to go you know. I could talk to Dad, get him to lay off some-"

"Don't you get it Dean? It's not just him. I mean, it's partly him, but I didn't just make this decision over night. I want to go to school. For once, I want to do something for me."

Sam wanted to look away as soon as he saw his brother's face. Sam had spent his whole life watching Dean, the things he learned about him didn't disappoint now. Dean was tucking his lower lip in, meaning he was keeping it from trembling, his brow knit slightly, meaning that he was determining just how to respond in the way that their father would want him to. John Winchester would want his little soldier to be tough as nails, no situation such as this one to be able to get through to his core. But Sam knew. He knew that as strong as his older brother was, he wasn't perfect, he wasn't fearless. Nobody was. Dean was afraid of something just like everyone else. Losing Sam. That, he knew Dean was very afraid of.

And yet here he was, telling him goodbye. Perhaps for the last time.

"I'm leaving for Stanford, tonight."

00000

The door swung open and in came Sam looking worn.

"Where have you been?" John demanded to know the second his youngest son entered. The boy had some questions to answer. He expected Dean to follow Sam in, but all that entered besides Sam was a short burst of cool air before Sam shut the door.

"There's something I need to tell you, Sir."

"I suspect there is. What is this?" He held up the Stanford acceptance letter which had been lying on the bed where John was now sitting. By the look of surprise on his son's face, he could tell that the letter being out in the open had been not been left there on purpose. And if Sam had been hiding this letter then clearly he was hiding something else about it too. He knew what was coming. He just wished it wouldn't come at all.

Sam tightened his jaw visibly. "That's what I needed to talk to you about."

"Well don't just stand there-"

"I'm going to California, Dad. I'm going to school at Stanford and I am leaving tonight."

John blinked. Sam did tend to throw information and bursts of rebellion at him a lot, but rarely, oh so rarely, did John see his son do it with such confidence. Sam's face was a impassive and impossible to read. "Son, what are you-"

Sam interrupted again, "I told you. I'm leaving as soon as possible. I got accepted to one of the best schools and I'm not going to waste that chance, I'm going."

The door was just then pushed open, another light breeze entering along with John's other son. The responsible one.

Dean froze as soon as he looked around him. He had always been able to sense the tension between Sam and John that sometimes John was unable to detect himself. Finally Dean dropped his shoulders and an agonized look filled his eyes briefly before disappearing under a cold mask.

"I can see that you told him Sam, well good for you," Dean smiled without mirth.

By the icy words, it was clear that Sam had broken the news to Dean as well.

John knew he had to say something. "You're not going Sam." Sam didn't look the least bit surprised, but he did glance quickly at Dean, who looked slightly less upset.

Sam sighed and looked John right in the eye. Another thing that was not done so often by his youngest. "You are not in charge of my life and I am sick and tired of you acting like you are. I make my own choices, Sir."

Anger boiled up inside John. He didn't like fighting with Sam, yet he did so frequently it was hard to believe himself. But when Sam fought him, John's natural instinct was simply to fight back. At least Dean wasn't nearly, if at all, questioning of his father's rules and business. Family business. With Sam gone they would hardly be a family. He had lost his Mary and now he was going to lose Sam too? He knew he didn't show it often, well, if he was being honest he hardly ever showed love to either of his sons at all. This wasn't how John had planned on spending the rest of his life, training his children to save the world. It was like his mind was hardwired to take any problem and solve it. And he would always find a way to solve it.

"Don't you talk back to me with that tone, boy. As long as we are together I am still your father and you will respect me and listen to me when I say that you are not going." John was vaguely aware of Dean trying to cut between the two men, but neither Sam nor John listened or really cared just at that moment. What happened next wasn't the effect that John had planned on providing.

"Well I guess I won't have to respect or listen to you much longer. I'm leaving right now." Sam spat the words out angrily and grabbed his duffle bag against the bed which John was sitting on. As Sam made a move leave, John grabbed his son's arm maybe a little too tightly. He couldn't lose Sam. Sam, who reminded him so much of Mary, it was as if a piece of her would leave with Sam. But however crushed John's heart was at that moment, the words on his tongue were bitter, as if he felt nothing at all.

"You walk out that door, don't you ever come back." Sam pulled away harshly from John's strong grip, his hard eyes a few minutes ago melted back into their usual puppy looking ones. Big and full of pain. I'm sorry Sammy, I didn't mean it, don't go, was what John wanted to say, the regret agonizingly extreme inside him. But the stubborn pride he held wouldn't allow him to open his mouth.

Dean's mouth was parted, his eyes wide in shock and unbelief, no mask could hide it. John watched as Sam avoided even looking at Dean as he turned and walked out, slamming the door so hard the thin walls of the motel room shook slightly. Dean turned to John who stared after Sam, horrified at what he just said.

Dean spoke up, sounding sick. "What did you do?" It was hard for John to meet his son's eyes. Dean's voice strengthened, as if realization was settling in. "What did you do?" And with that jumped up and yanked the door open, running after his brother who might be gone forever.

Alone and in silence, John stared into the open space where Sam had just been, only moments before.

"What have I done?" he whispered.

00000

"Sam!"

Dean yelled once again to his brother whose long legs had put some distance between them. Finally Sam came to a hesitant stop before turning to face Dean who stood five feet away.

"What do you want, Dean?"

The tiredness of Sam's voice was detectable. He wasn't the only one who was letting his guard down at the moment. "I want you to promise me something."

A look of curiosity struck in Sam's eyes underneath the street lamp. He was probably interested in why Dean was suddenly so ready to actually talk. Really talk. "I'm leaving Dean, I swear, I can't take another day in the same life as that man. Or in that life at all, really."

"I know, Sammy."

Dean saw Sam narrow his eyes and knew for sure then that Sam would listen to him, at least consider. "I don't care what he said back there Sam, you are always welcome back home with us."

Sam laughed humorlessly, "What home?"

Dean smiled softly. "Why the Impala, of course."

The wind picked up a little then and tousled Sam's too long hair. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I hear what you're saying, Dean. But I think that honestly, Stanford is the place I need to be right now."

Dean tucked in his lower lip, he hadn't expected Sam to say anything less than that. He knew he shouldn't be selfish, but life wouldn't be the same without his baby brother. Who was Dean supposed to protect now, his father? The man wasn't exactly a damsel in distress like Rapunzel over there. It was as if half of his life's purpose was going to California with his brother. For the first time in a while, Dean felt lost.

He swallowed hard while shaking his head, "Yeah of course, you should go. Stanford needs walking dictionaries like you over there." Dean slowly began to turn around.

"Dean"

"Mmm?"

"Maybe I'll see you in a few years. I mean, we are brothers."

Dean was still facing the opposite direction of Sam, but still smiled a little anyway. Yeah, everything was going to be okay. Circumstances in a few years couldn't be any worse than how they were now. If anything, things would be a whole lot better the next time Dean saw Sam again. Maybe John would be there too, and they would all be reunited again. No more fighting…

"Goodbye, Sam."

But he knew that it wasn't really goodbye.

End