A/N Okay, John Winchester has gotten into my brain. This is the second part of a planned series of one-shots. Yes, you'll note the first one started with A and the second one with B. I already have some ideas for C. So tell me what you think... Reviews are welcome!
The John Winchester Chronicles
Betrayed
by CFEditor
John Winchester was still slowly polishing his rifle when the door banged open. For a moment he hoped that the boy had come back...
"Dad? I brought dinner." It was his eldest son, his lieutenant. "Better tell Sam to get his butt out here or the food'll get cold."
His son put down the bags on the bed and went back and closed the door. The cold wind was blowing in. Only then did he glance at his father. He froze. "Something's not right. What happened? Did you and Sammy fight again?"
John put down the rifle next to the food and looked into one of the bags. Chicken wings... The smell wafted through the room. He sat down on the bed, took out two paper plates and put a couple of wings on his plate. "Sam's not joining us for dinner," he said. His voice was steady and devoid of inflection. He began rummaging in the other bag for some french fries.
"Well, where is he?" Dean's brow furrowed. He started walking to the bathroom door. "Sam? You can come out of the bathroom now... Come on! I got white rice just for you."
"He's not here." John sighed. "He went for a walk."
"For a walk? Did he say when he was coming back?"
"That's just it." He was tearing strips from his chicken. He didn't look at Dean. "I don't think he is coming back."
"Damn it, Dad! What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean stalked over to John and grabbed him by both arms. "How can you sit there eating chicken?"
With a deft movement, John pulled both of his arms up and out of Dean's grip. "Don't you dare take that tone with me, boy!" he snarled. He stood up. "Sam got a letter from Stanford University. Damn fool thinks he can go to college. I told him not to go... He wouldn't listen."
Dean sat down heavily on the bed. He pushed aside the rifle and put his head in his hands. "Stanford... I didn't believe he would get in."
John's head snapped up. "You knew about this?" He looked at the son he thought he could trust... the one he had always counted on to back him up... the traitor.
"Well... I knew Sam had applied. We argued about it." Dean looked at him. "But I really didn't believe he would go through with it. I didn't think he'd leave."
"And you didn't tell me what was going on? Since when do you keep secrets from me?"
"Dad, try to understand... Sam was unhappy. I was trying to buy time, keep him from leaving. I never thought this would actually happen."
"No." John took his plate again and walked to the far side of the room, as far away from Dean as he could get. "I don't want to hear it. Eat up. We're packing up tonight."
Dean opened his mouth. He looked like he wanted to say something more but he took a piece of chicken from the bag and started to chew.
Finally, he asked, "What next? Another hunt?" His voice was strained, very quiet. He didn't dare look at his father.
"What else?" said John. "We leave at first light."