What's next...
a supernatural story set in the boys' younger days.
Dean stared at the unopened envelope for a long time. His jaw clenched and unclenched and a couple of times, he licked his lips to keep them from drying. Now and again, he looked over at the motel clock, checking the time and silently calculating how much longer before Sam would be home from school or his father would barge through the doorway. He ran a hand through is dark hair and set the envelope down on the table once more. Dean had to do it. No matter how long he stared at it, sooner or later, Dean would have to get up, get a knife and tear open the seal. It was better to do it before Dad or Sam came home and started asking questions. Better to look, get it over with and trash it before they could even see it. He didn't even know what he was so anxious about; he'd already made up his decision. Dean knew the life he was going to lead, the life he wanted to lead. A few printed letters on white, fancy paper wasn't going to change a thing.
"This is stupid," he muttered to himself. Dean shoved away from the uneven table, the cheap chair screeching against the floor. He went over to his duffle, digging out one of his smaller, pocket knives and flipping it open. Dean snatched up the envelop and ran the blade along the top, cutting it open. Taking the time to fold the knife back up and pocket it, he closed his eyes and took a breath. It wouldn't change a thing.
Unfolding the paper, he started to read. A few lines in and that was enough for Dean. He didn't need to read another word. Nothing changed, just like Dean knew that it wouldn't. Words on fancy printed paper meant very little to Dean Winchester's future. They never have in his life. Words were meant for Sam, always had been and always would. Dean put more stock in metal and salt and his baby that was sitting out there. Sure, it was Dad's now, but he always promised it to Dean when he 'got older.' Only a matter of time now.
He heard a car door slam and Dean refolded the paper quickly, stuffed it back into the envelop and dropped it face down on the table. A few seconds later and the door slammed open. Instead of just one Winchester, which was what Dean was expecting, two of them walked through the door; stormed through the door was more like it. Sam was getting bigger every time Dean saw him, and he saw him everyday. The boy was going to be a giant when he was Dean's age. His father looked more and more weary, more haunted every time he came home. Dean hated to see that look in his eyes.
"Sam?" His brother looked less than pleased. It was his typical 'Dad screwed up again' face and Dean frowned. Their dad could never be perfect in his eyes.
"Sam, boy. Don't you walk away from me." John tried to stop his younger son, but Sam just kept walking until he found his bed.
"Dad? What's going on?" Dean looked from father to brother, every other worry on his mind fading away. He stood between the two. His family came first, before anything else. Even before hunting and Dean loved hunting.
"Dean, do me a favor." John turned around his son, very near his height and to Sam for a moment before focusing on Dean.
"Sure, Dad, what?" Dean was willing to do anything if it helped the situation.
"Pick this up from the store down the street for me," He fished in his coat pocket and handed a scribbled list to Dean.
Dean took it, looked it over and tried not to let his annoyance show. He was being sent away and Dean hated that. It meant that Sam and his father were going to go at it and he wasn't going to be there to make sure they didn't say something stupid to each other. His dad knew that, which was why he had handed him the list. Pushed out of the way, but Dean knew he would let his father do it. He would follow his father's orders to the end. They had saved him more times than Dean could count and the one time he'd shirked on his duties? Dean never wanted to see that look on his face again, so disappointed in him.
"Yeah. Just-" He stopped as he grabbed the door handle, "Don't kill each other while I'm gone, okay? I want to come back and see the two of you exactly how I left you."
"Sure, son," John nodded and Dean waited a moment. "I'm not going to hurt your brother, Dean."
Satisfied, Dean cast a look at Sam on his bed with a book determinedly covering his face and view of them. He looked at his father and then shut the door behind him. His life. Yet, there was his baby, sitting and waiting for him and everything seemed better then.
His eldest son shut the door behind him and John deflated a few inches. His youngest was pointedly ignoring him, face shoved in a book about world history or something that John didn't find half as useful as knowing what uses rock salt had against the supernatural. He grabbed one of the cheap chairs and dropped down into it, leaning on the table and holding his head in his hands. Square in his eye sight was an opened envelope. A bill or something that Dean had torn open and checked out. With a lack of anything else to do, John turned it over, surprised when the letter was addressed to Dean Winchester and not some other alias or not even to him. The return address intrigued him too.
"Sam?" John called for his youngest. Maybe Dean had done it for Sam. When Sam didn't reply, John looked up. "Sam."
His father's tone, brought Sam's head up and over his book. "Yeah."
"Do you know anything about the University of Kansas?" John held up the envelop for Sam to see it.
"No, why?" Sam put the book down beside him on the bed and swung his long legs off the edge. A moment later and he was walking over to his father, curiosity driving him.
"This came for your brother," John handed over the letter. This sort of thing was Sam's sort of area. He'd never admit it to the boy, but it was and John was glad to have him around to do it.
Sam looked over the envelop and addresses before pulling out the letter from inside. His eyes, so like his mother's that it almost hurt most days, scanned over the words. "It's a letter."
"A little more, Sam." John frowned at the boy. He knew it was a letter.
"Of acceptance. Into college." Sam held out the letter for his father, surprise on his face.
"What?" He snatched it out of the boy's hand. John couldn't believe it. What he couldn't believe was that Dean had applied to a college, without his knowledge and then got accepted. Not necessarily in that order, but what did that matter? Dean had neglected to tell John all this. Was he planning on going? What about hunting? He was just going to leave? John could feel him getting angry, frustrated and disappointed in his eldest son all at once. He hadn't raised Dean to go off and bury himself in needless studies.
Sam must have known it too. "I think it's great. He deserves it."
John shot the boy a harsh look, "His job is to look after you and take care of this family."
Sam just stared at his father, blinking his eyes. "That's absurd. That's your job, not that you'd know it. We get to make up our own lives and if Dean wants to go to college, you should let him."
"There are more important things than college, Sam and you know it." John shot back, standing up, still taller than his son. Why did Sam always bring that up?
"Oh, right. Ghosts. Demons. How can I forget? You drill it into our heads like some freakin' drill sergeant every day. I envy Dean. He gets to get away from all this." Sam opened his arms for emphasis.
"Don't you talk that way to-"
"What's going on in here?" Dean stood in the doorway, a paper bag in his arms. He kicked the door shut behind him and set the bag on the small table beside it. The look on his face was enough to make Sam step back a bit and John to smile a bit in pride.
"Since when did you decide to go to college?" John waved the paper in Dean's face. Not enough pride not to drill his son about it all.
"I'm not." Dean was a bit shocked.
"What? Dean. You should go to college." Sam looked at his older brother like he was crazy. John had to say he was rather relieved in his oldest boy. Dean had a good head on his shoulders; knew his priorities.
"I've got to take care of you, Sammy. And Dad can't look after himself. It's okay. Where the hell did you find that anyway?" Dean looked from one man to the next.
"Dean, you don't have to-"
"No, Sam. It's decided. Go do your homework." Dean pointed toward Sam's bed. Sam didn't move and Dean narrowed his eyes. "Now, Sam."
Sam reluctantly turned and went back to his book, though he kept glancing up at his brother. Dean went over to the paper bag and began pulling out the stuff John had asked him to get. "So-"
"Dean." John lowered his voice. A part of him hated that Dean felt like he couldn't go off on his own and live his life. That John had broken him down so much that Dean didn't feel like he could go. He had never wanted that for his boys.
"Where are we going next, dad?"