Cannonball
Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Love taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball
Sam had barricaded himself in the bathroom like a temperamental teenage girl, experiencing her first round with PMS. Everything had been ok. Dad and Dean were out on a hunt (a Yadoukai in a nearby town which had been leaving a wake of grieving parents in its path after kidnapping their children) and weren't supposed to be back until Monday at the earliest.
He'd even figured out an alternative way to get out of the dingy apartment without Dean or his dad seeing him if they happened to come home while he was in the bathroom (down and out the fire escape ladder, swing from the last wrung into Mrs. Petrochelli's "garden" and shimmy down the drain pipe from her balcony). Damnit! He had been prepared! Lara Martin had said she'd go with him – that is once he'd managed to wrangle her away from the herd.
Now it had all gone to hell. Just as he was attempting to tie his tie in front of the hall closet mirror, Sam heard the front door jostle and his brother hollering about "nailing that bastard right in the heart". The minute Sam heard his brother's boisterous voice, he knew it was coming: the geek-boy bashings of all geek-boy bashings.
Sam could feel both his father and brother's eyes taunting him…laughing at him. "Going somewhere son?" John Winchester asked; the smirk on his face was just as apparent as it was in the tone of his voice.
"Whoa Sammy, where you going in those pants? 1972?" Dean taunted.
"Screw you, Dean"
"No really Sam, I like it even better on you than Colonel Sanders" Dean laughed, egging on his brother. "Think later you can explain to me later how you invented the perfect recipe for fried chicken? Maybe later spread a little knowledge on the old cotton gin works?"
Sam stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, now gazing fully at his reflection; a white suit was all that the tuxedo rental shop had left in his size. The amount of time he had taken to finally grow some balls, as Dean would have put it, to ask Lara, had left him in a suit lurch. He leaned his tall frame against the wall of the small bathroom and began to hit his head against the tiles. Who the hell was he kidding? He did look like Colonel fucking Sanders.
Sam finally looked down at his watch, "7:10", he mumbled. He was supposed to meet Lara at her queen bee, Libby Carlson's house for pictures at 7:30. He looked at it as the last chance for normalcy, or at least as much as was possible in the Winchester family. Soon enough he'd be finding out if he would be letting them down permanently with that letter saying he got into Stanford; or letting himself down completely by being forced to continually schlep it around the country with his misfit family, pursuing goals that would never be his own.
The letter from Stanford was currently slipped underneath the loose floorboard in the room that he shared his Dean. He hadn't been able to look at it yet, knowing its contents would change his familial relationships indefinitely.
At 7:18 Sam finally raised hand to the door knob and mentally guarded himself against the insults he was sure would fly as soon he exited back into the living room/family room/dining room.
"Did you come back out for your top hat on your way to the monopoly convention?" Dean teased, as John Winchester's laughter could be heard in between taking swigs from his beer.
Sam flipped him the bird and grabbed the keys to Dean's beloved Impala, "Not only am I going to taint and deflower your precious car, but now that monopoly crack is going to make your baby chug unleaded. See ya!" Sam called out smirking as he slammed the door behind him.
Dean stood staring at the door with his mouth agape. John came up behind him and clasped his shoulder, while handing him a beer. "It's ok son, we both know in that suit, the Impala will remain pure".
"If that bitch even so much thinks of putting unleaded in my baby", he cried out and then began to mumble "not my car" quite a few times. "Oh Sammy, you're going down, I know where you hide your incriminating shit".
At 2am Sam rolled into his and Dean's dark bedroom and dropped down onto the twin bed that reasonably looked like he outgrew it five years ago. He felt the sharp edge of a piece of paper dig into his shoulder blade and reached a long arm behind his back to grab the offending paper. Hearing his brother's bed creak, Dean's voice came softly from the next bed over, "this changes everything you know?" Sam heard a deep sigh and then, "Congratulations geek-boy".
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know