They were in another small town in the middle of nowhere. Middle of nowhere resided in Montana this time. Which is where Sam was when he got the letter that gave him the freedom to leave.
A Stanford acceptance letter. Full scholarship and everything.
Dean and John had been out when he got home from school, so he waited.
The sun was going down by the time the two showed up, bringing food back with them.
Sam was pretty sure this conversation was going to go bad, so he decided to get through eating before spilling the news.
He ate cheap food, joked around with Dean, and finally decided to drop the bomb when John turned on the TV.
"I got an acceptance letter to Stanford." He said, holding up the envelope.
He could see the clench of John's jaw that always signaled a fight. Dean looked torn between being proud of his little brother for getting into a college noteworthy enough for Dean to recognize the name and worry over what was going to happen because of it.
"And what are you planning to do with that?" John asked slowly.
"I'm planning to go. I'm going to be a lawyer. If I could keep up with school when we were moving all the time I'm sure I'll be able to handle law school when I'm staying there."
"I'm not paying for that law bullshit." John sneered and turned back to the television, clearly dismissing the topic.
"Good thing I wasn't asking you to. I've got a full scholarship. I don't need you or your permission." He said, glaring holes into the back of his father's head as he spoke.
The older man turned back to face Sam, matching anger reflected in his eyes.
"Oh, you don't need me? Who has taken care of you your whole life? Put roofs over your head? Fed you?"
"Dean." Sam answered, and Dean looked like he really didn't want to be brought into the argument. "Dean raised me while you were out looking for monsters with yellow eyes instead of taking care of your own children. But the closest we've ever gotten to a demon is you at the bottom of a bottle."
"Sam." Dean was giving him a look that clearly said to stop talking.
"What even happens if you find him? If you can actually kill him? Mom won't be back. So, dose everything just go back to normal. Or do you even know what normal is anymore? Dean and I don't. Or, at least, we've only observed it. We haven't actually had any normalcy in our life. You can blame yellow eyes all you want, but you know as well as I do that that's on you."
"He was in your room." John didn't elaborate but the implications were clear to all occupants of the room.
" Dad, you can't-" Dean started.
"Dean, stay out of it. This is between your brother and me."
"It's fine, Dean. He can try to blame me all he wants. If it makes him feel better to blame the guy who was so young he can't even remember any of it, fine. Maybe that will do a better job of helping him sleep at night than the alcohol. But that wasn't even what I was referring to. Dad could have just gotten a new house, raised us like a normal parent and told us the tragic story of an accidental house fire. Instead he took his sons on a quest for revenge that after about eighteen years still hasn't finished
"Well, I'm done. I'm going to make something of my life. Most parents would be proud if their kid got into Stanford. Hell, if they got into any college." Sam said, picking up his bag and putting his acceptance letter into it. "But, hey, no harm done since it's not like you were ever really my parent anyway." He added as he started walking towards the door.
"If you walk out that door, don't you bother coming back." John warned through gritted teeth.
"I guess I'm not coming back then."
"Sammy, he doesn't mean it." Dean said, grabbing Sam's arm to keep him from walking out.
"Yes he does. You know he means every word of it." Sam jerked his arm away and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
He could hear the muffled sounds of Dean and John yelling at each other as he walked away from the motel and was sure they would get a noise complain, but couldn't bring himself to care.
It wasn't his problem anymore. And he'd never felt so free.