A/N: A roleplay played out between 3 people. The person that writes the posts are clarified each segment.
This is majorly WIP, as we have currently just started writing it. We are also just rolling with it and have no set storyline planned.
Story is set PRE-Season 1 of Supernatural. Story between the three Winchesters: John, Dean, and Sam.
SAM:
Butte, Montana 2002
The sound of bells rang throughout the building of Butte High. Students gathered up their materials and stored them away into their bags as the teacher rambled off with last minute details about their next assignment. One by one the students filed out; all but one.
Sam Winchester was still stationed in his seat, his eyes focused on a piece of paper that was laid out before him. It was a spread-sheet, one that had been passed out at the beginning of class and it was completely blank. Blank. That's something he sometimes wished he could be. Void of all thoughts and emotions.
Life for the Winchesters could get complicated and sometimes he just wanted it to end so that he could take his time to stop and look at things. To see the good in the world instead of focusing so much on the bad. To make real friends and get a girlfriend, maybe even go to college and get married one day. But that was a life style that was frowned upon by his father. John Winchester was strict and hard, not to mention stubborn. If Sam were to pretend like demons and supernatural things didn't exist, it would be the most shameful thing his father would say he could do. A dishonor, if you will, to their dysfunctional family.
Because of their father's choice in a career as a Hunter, the Winchesters moved around often. This left little time for Sam and Dean to have a chance to reach out and connect to other kids their age. This had never been a problem for the eldest Winchester. When he had been in high school Dean could have cared less about school and he rarely attended the classes he was given whenever they transferred schools. The way he saw it, they weren't going to be hanging around for long and so there was no point in making an effort (especially with useless garbage like high school education.) Sam thought differently. Where his brother turned his nose at the sight of a school book, Sam pick it up with interest. He was a very curious child and that often made him hungry for knowledge. Where most parents would be proud to have a straight A student and encourage someone as serious about education as Sam was, John was the opposite and showed disapproval. At least that's how Sam took his father's actions.
Most often Sam and Dean were left at the apartments or cheap hotels by themselves throughout the week, but on the nights John did come home he would find his youngest son in deep focus on his homework. The kitchen or coffee tables would be littered with books and many papers would be strewn about, but in an organized fashion. Dean, on the other hand, would be located somewhere near the TV where he practiced taking apart and reassembling weapons. His father never minded coming home to Dean, because he was proud of the little soldier he had made of him. He would smile and encourage Dean to learn as much as he could about his weaponry and of the things that went bump-in-the-night.
"Sam?"
Sam's attention was drawn from the blank paper toward his professor.
"Everything alright? You seemed a little distracted during the lesson today." He questioned with a look of concern.
The Winchester lowered his head to look at the paper in front of him as he quietly answered, "Yeah..." His brows pulled together slightly. He really had not been alright lately. The case that they had been working on for the past month had finally started to come to a close and that meant Sam would be moving again and just when he started to get adjusted.
Sam realized his answer must not have been good enough as he lifted his gaze to see his profess still looking at him concerned. "I'm fine." He attempted to be more believable this time as he gathered up his things and started to pack them.
"Are you worried about your transcript?" He inquired with a raised brow.
"My what?" Sam's head suddenly shot back toward him and after a beat he realized what he meant. "Oh, right. My transcript. The one I sent to Stanford..." He cleared his throat as he slowly tucked his book into his bag. "No..." It was true he wasn't worried about the transcript, but rather that he was disheartened with the idea that he would possibly never get a chance to go, even if he was accepted.
The professor seemed to mistake his sullen response for doubt over his transcript. He offered a friendly smile. "Your grades are incredible, Sam. And you're an incredible individual, with a lot of imagination. I have no doubt you're going to get accepted." His words were meant to be encouraging.
He mustered up a smile for the professor. "Thanks..." It was spoken with gratitude, but the professor's words did nothing for Sam except make him feel worse than he already had. He zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he got to his feet and made his way toward the front of the room. As he passed the professor he stopped. After half a moment he glanced over his shoulder at him. "I wanted to thank you, Mr. Hamilton." Sam sounded sincere as he went on, "You really inspired me to learn more and…" He paused, but then decided against what he wanted to say and settled with, "Just…thank you."
Mr. Hamilton seemed taken back by Sam's kind words, being slightly more worried for him now, but he smiled kindly to the boy nonetheless. "You're welcome, Sam." With that Sam offered a small smile, one that had a hint of sadness tinged into it, before he turned and exited the room.
The walk home, if you could call it that, didn't take too long. Sam hadn't bothered to stick around and see if Dean had come to get him. He had grown accustomed to getting to and from school on his own these days, though occasionally his dad or brother did drop him off. Generally he preferred to walk so he had alone time. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his brother Dean, he loved his brother, but sometimes he acted like a twelve year old and it got on his nerves. As far as his father went, he generally rambled on and on about how Sam needed to be more focused on the cases they handled instead of books on English and U.S. History. Needless to say, Sam did not ride with his father often and he generally kept it that way.
Upon reaching the hotel they were living in for the past month, Sam pulled out his key and inserted it into the lock. He twisted it and turned the handle before he pushed it open. Only he was stopped by the chain on the door. A look of irritation crossed his features at this. "Really, Dean?" He muttered to himself. Every damn day Dean had this stupid chain done on the door when he knew that every day Sam would be coming home at this time from school. "Dean! Open the door!" He shouted, loud enough in hopes that his voice would carry to wherever his brother was inside. After a long pause and no answer, Sam gritted his teeth and slammed the door shut before he marched over to the side of the building where their room was located.
He made his way over to the window that was outside their bedroom and pulled out a pocket knife to begin to undo the latch. Once he succeeded he slid the window open and began to climb in. He planted his feet firmly on the floor and turned to close the window before he flung his backpack on his bed. "Thanks for having the door locked again, Jerk!" Sam shouted as he began to march out of his bedroom, his head turning every which way in hopes to find and locate his older brother so that he could give him the bitchiest of all bitch faces he could muster.
-
DEAN:
Dean always got a fucking kick out of messing with his brother. He was just such a little girl. If it wasn't for Dean, who knew how the kid survived each day. Dean always had to stick up for him, fight his battles, win his wars. Sam's nose was always in a book. Dean never really understood why school was so much more important than what they did. Dean had managed to get by with just a GED. He didn't need to know grammar. He knew how to kill a Wendigo. Those were the skills that mattered.
Dean hated wasting his time sitting at "home" if that's what you could call it. He was 23 and dad still made him stay in the room sometimes. Mainly because he was supposed to wait for Sammy, Or he was supposed to go pick Sammy up. Sam was a big kid now why couldn't he take care of himself. And why didn't dad trust Dean to be able to take care of himself. But no instead Dean just spent his time in the room in the bed in front of the tv. He was watching some kind of smut of course already hitting the six pack.
Dean heard as Sam turned the knob and tried to push the door open. It never got old. Dean smirked to himself. He turned off the TV and quietly moved off the bed. He prepared himself for Sammy's entry through the window. Dean was not known for being the mature one of the Winchesters. He wasn't about to change his reputation now. He stood quietly behind a wall as Sam came stomping through the room. Dean jumped and shoved his brother from behind. The face that his brother gave him was priceless. Dean laughed for a good solid minute before he pulled himself together and made his way back to his beer.
Sam never could take a joke. He looked madder than hell and Dean knew he was about to get an earful. Dean just flipped through the channels swigging away at the bottle in his hands. He turned and looked at Sam when he didn't say a word. "Oh, come on, Sammy. You need to lighten up." He shoved a handful of Cheetos into his mouth before speaking again. "How was school? Learn anymore useless shit?"
-
SAM:
As he entered through around the corner outside their bedroom Sam was attacked by his brother from behind. Sam stumbled forward and mentally cursed himself for having not seen it coming. Dean always pulled these kind of stunts for his own amusement. He got a kick out of how annoyed Sam could get. He quickly regained his balance and turned around to shove his brother, hard, in return. Sam said nothing to him while the eldest Winchester laughed. Instead he just glowered in his direction, his eyes stiffly followed his older brother as he walked over to the tv again and retrieved his beer. When Sam had made no efforts to bitch at him, like he generally did, Dean told him to lighten up. Sam scoffed in response.
The tall brunette rolled his eyes as he made his way over toward the kitchen. "Yeah. Learned more than I do in this dump." He muttered, irritably as he opened up a cabinet to pull out a box of Lucky Charms. He opened up the box and got a bowl and poured some cereal into it. His eyes scanned around the kitchen area and spotted papers strewn across the table and a lot of junk and garbage. It was clear that Dean had been bored by his 'research' and procrastinated with booze and junk food and eventually the tv. "I see you've been a big help with the case." He spoke dryly, and loud enough for his brother to hear from the bedroom.
-
DEAN:
Dean never bothered to clean up his messes. That's what he had Sammy for. The live in maid. Seemed like Sammy was extra cranky today though. "More help than you were, obviously." He commented as he rose back up from the bed. He dusted off some cheeto crumbs from his shirt and picked up some stray pieces of papers with some scratching on it. "It's not like there is much left to do on this case. Just waiting for dad to get back."
He set the papers down on the already cluttered table and started digging through the fridge for any other kind of junk food he could find. He pulled out a bottle of pop and handed it to his brother. The sour look on Sam's face was definitely a sign that something was on his mind. "Come on, dude. What's got a stick up your ass today?"
-
SAM:
Sam stored the box of Lucky Charms away again as Dean entered into the room to make his comment about being more useful. The youngest Winchester rolled his eyes at this remark as he moved toward the fridge, only to have Dean cut in front of him to get to it first. This caused the brunette to stand there with a look of annoyance worn into his eyes as he waited for Dean to finish whatever he was doing.
His attention was drawn to a can of soda that was extended his way from Dean. He shifted his eyes back upon his brother before he hesitated and took the drink. He mumbled a thank you and then moved around him to grab a jug of milk for his cereal. The question his brother asked him only further reminded himself how irritable he was. The idea of having to come home to this; the life they lived, the things they did, the jobs they worked. It was something Sam could hardly appreciate and he had never really made an effort to hide it.
He poured the milk into his bowl and returned it to the fridge before he grabbed a spoon to eat with. "Nothing." Sam replied short initially, with no intention to share or unload with Dean what had really been on his mind the past few days. Not that he or their father ever cared when he mentioned the idea of college. As far as they were concerned it wasn't an option for any of them and so they did not want to hear about it.
After a beat he exhaled sharply and fiddled with the spoon in his bowl. "It's just..." The corner of his lip curled down slightly and he quickly shook it off. "I might get accepted into Stanford." At this Sam bravely met his brother's gaze in hopes to find that he could be empathetic or at least sympathetic with him for once. Though he knew it was naive of him to think that way. His brother got just as heated over the thought of college as John did.
-
DEAN:
As Sam took the can, Dean gave a goofy grin than popped a chocolate into his mouth before walking back to the doorway. He leaned against the door frame shoving little chocolates into his mouth. He figured Sammy wouldn't talk to him about whatever was bothering him. Than again maybe Dean didn't really care to know right now. He was just ready to be done with this town and move on. He shrugged and turned to walk back to the bedroom when Sam said nothing.
He stopped and turned back around though when Sam mentioned college. He was annoyed already. He hated even the mention of college. How could Sammy want to abandon this family? It just didn't make any sense to him. There were better ways to spend his time. It was like Sam just wanted to get away from them.
"Well, you know you can't go. So why even worry about it?" Dean shook his head and plopped back down on the bed. He grabbed a beer and didn't look even look at Sam.
-
SAM:
Dean's words hardly came as a surprise to Sam, though a part of him still wished that he might have said differently. A sigh slipped past his lips as his gaze fell to the bowl of cereal in his hands as he turned his back to his brother. "Thanks for the support..." He mumbled quietly to himself before he moved across the room to sit at the table. He carelessly shoved some of the papers that dealt with the case to the side and sat down before he started to eat.