Sam's Journal

Author: 7sTar

Author's note: It's a New Year present for SN.

Category: Angst/General

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Sam and Dean, Iwrite this only for fun. Please don't sue me.

21 December 2005

I have been sitting here for thirty minutes, trying to decide how to start this. I have never kept a journal, but due to recent events in my life, I thought that maybe it would help. Dean was laughing up his sleeve muttering something like "college boy's game". After I stared at him with a wanna-punch-you glitter in my eyes, he slipped into the bathroom.

My father had a journal -- more precisely speaking, it's more like a demon-hunting guide. The old leather smell of his journal makes me remember what my Dad looked like -- covered with a worn, brown leather exterior -- and I can imagine him sitting at his desk at night, writing in it from time to time, usually in the very late evening or very early in the morning .

After reading it now and then, I realized how much of an amazing man he was. I can now see that everything I do, is due to my father, his beliefs, his faith, and the way he raised Dean and me.

I've got a feeling for years that my father have been disappointed in my choice to follow the so-called mormal life. For years, I had struggled with the battle between duty to family and duty to self. But I realized, after driving around with my brother to look for my dad and kill demons, that I was wrong. I can't imagine how proud he was of me.

I wish we could find him as soon as possible, but in the most of time, I wish my father was around to help us through all the diffficulties we met. In my mind, he would know what to do, or how to do. I have had numerous incidents in my life that I have gotten through without his help, not by choice. This is the first time that I think I really, really need his advice.

Early last month, the person I love more than anything in this world -- the only girl who has permeated my entire soul -- was dead. She was killed by the demon that killed my mom 22 years ago. I walked away with my my brother. I have never thought I would walk away from the life I pursued all my life. I have always faced up to my responsibilities. But this time? Well, I just don't know if hunting is a responsibility of mine. I hope my dad sends me a sign from wherever he is.

22 December 2005

Driving aimlessly another day, arriving at another small town and settling in another small town, I was exhausted and so was Dean. We could feel the festerval mood in the town but we didn't talked about it. He seemed in no mood.

It has been 50 days since Jess died. We have been lovers for almost a year and a half. We have even discussed marriage. She told me the same day last year that she wanted a marquis diamond engagement ring that was wrapped in gold and hidden on a brach of our Christmas tree, waiting for her to open it.

The night that I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her was one of the best nights of my life. I knew the look I gave her hurt her when I told her I was going to look for my dad with Dean that night. I just turned around and walked away from her -- I never thought it was the last time I saw her. I still remember the look on her face for that brief second before I turned away.

And I hate myself. Forever.

24 December 2005

My dad always lived up to his reponsibilities, and now, so must I. I am going to be a good hunter, whether I like it or not. Dean can't and won't do this by himself. He didn't born to be a hunter, that's for sure. It's time for me to quit hiding and support the brother I love. I'm not ready for this and I don't want this but after Jess died everything changed. I must do it, for my mom, Jess, my dad and my brother.

For three days, I've been asking myself how I would spend the Christmas eve without Jess, and now I remember I didn't think of spending the eve with Dean. Why? He's my brother.

I can count on my hands the times in the past years that we had Christmas eve together, with our dad. I should have known that it was the right time . . . to celebrate this Christmas with my brother after I left home many years ago.

I don't know if it's pure illusion or not, I can actually feel my father's presence, and I can almost hear his voice. I turn my head to look at Dean, his eyes was fixed on the screen of the laptop, not noticing my gaze. I feel a bit disappointed.

25 December 2005

It's 9 a.m. on Christmas morning, I was still on bed. Dean went out without saying anything and came back until 6:00 in the afternoon. I wanted to call him for several times but I gave it up because I wondered if he was avoiding me on this special day.

The term "my face fell" probably doesn't do it justice when I say how I felt when I saw him again. His short hair was wet, his skin red and his shoes muddy. He looked like a teenager instead of a grown, 26 year-old young man. I opened my mouth to a big "A", he replied "Shut up" and went into the bathroom. When he appeared again with only a towel around his waist I suggested that we should do our first Christmas Eve together after we parted so many years.

He blinked to me, drwalling "Great, why not" and went to change his clothes. I thought I surprised him, and I felt better when he gave me a smirk. He emerged five minutes later then I realized that I didn't have a plan for the eve at all, not to mention preparing a present for him and booking a table in a restaurant. He looked at me for a while, then muttered under his breath, "Follow me, dude."

It was snowing outside. Dean led me to a chic Japanese reataurant and after the delicious sushi we went to see the film King Kong. I felt a little nuts and laughable but happy at the mean time. It was totally white when the movie was over. I looked at Dean as he drove slowly along the white quiet street. I said "Merry X'mas" to him, he replied "You too, man" and stopped the car, picked out a small box from his pocket. "Open it!" He handed it to me.

There were a necklace and a ring in it with some ancient fantastic patterns, meaning to avoid evil spirits, like those he wears. I've got to know why he disappeared in the day. I felt I had a real Christmas eve, and I thought of my dad.

I realized that Dean and I never discussed anything about our dad the whole eveing, only the fact that we were going to try to find him. One of the best things about our relationship is that we usually are able to communicate very easily. But when I said where was our dad and how he spent the Chrismas, Dean just sighed and started to drive again.

There was silence in the car. This silence was new to us.

28 December 2005

The silence between us is still there, like a big white elephant in the room that we avoid. We both know it's there, we can see it, but we pretend it isn't.

Dean looks stunning, wearing a short black T-shirt, sitting still to study my dad's journal. He looks like a shadow, which associates me with my dad writing in his journal in the wee hours of the morning, the light from his desk illuminating his grey head. He only ever did it when he was extremely troubled. I felt his presence again a few hours ago when I suddenly woke up from mydream to find Dean deep in thought.

I found him standing in the dark, with only the moonlight illuminating the bed where he stood, caressingour dad's old journal with his hand.

31 December 2005

I spent last night reading my father's journal, and the turnaround from beginning to end is one I would have never believed, if I hadn't seen it in black and white. I am glad to read his thoughts and feelings from many year ago. I have more happiness than I ever imagined because I think I understand my father more.

Dean and I sat in a noisy bar last night, drinking some wine to welcome the new year. He asked me if I was drunk when I told him that I wanted to kill more demons and save more asses in the coming year. He didn't believe me at first, and then he smiled at me when he realized I was serious. Maybe, in another year, he said. I said no, right now.

He was confused.

So next year at this time, I am hoping we are well on our way to a family of three, by that day we should have found our dad already, right?