Hello all! This is my first Supernatural fanfiction that I have written and I'm excited to have it posted here ^^
Enjoy!
A black car careened down the dirt road that was utterly empty. It was obvious the road hadn't seen many people. And one could only get the impression that the car's driver didn't want to. The car was a Chevy Impala, 1967. It was clear that it had seen better days. Then again, it also seemed to have seen worse ones. Whoever owned it must have treasured it because it was old and it would definitely take some work for it to keep running like it was.
Dean Winchester was in the driver's seat of the Impala, driving it smoothly down the road. His younger brother, Sam, road shotgun. After driving for hours and drifting in and out of consciousness, Sam now sat with his head sleepily leaning on the window, staring ahead. Dean kept his eyes forward, focusing on driving, but at the same time staring off into space.
The silence in the car wasn't deafening, as the boys were certainly used to it. The only sound was the Impala barreling down the dirt path. The last conversation the two had had probably been two states away. The day had been tiring.
Sam glanced over at Dean from time to time. At one point his eyes lingered longer, apparently in thought. He turned his head back to the road, as he thought about something.
"Hey Dean," he said, breaking the long silence the car had obtained.
Dean snapped out of whatever thought he was in and turned his attention to Sam, looking between him and the road. "Yeah?"
Sam took a pause, as if he had something important to say but had either not known how to say it or forgotten what it was. But he continued a moment later saying, "I, uh, I know this is... a little late, I guess, but I wanted to say that I'm sorry that I left you and Dad for Stanford before."
Dean looked over at Sam, slightly confused. "What makes you say that?"
"Well, I was just thinking about it, I guess. And I don't think it was really fair of me to just leave like that. I mean, I wanted to go to college, but I left you and Dad behind in the process. So... Sorry."
Dean was still a little confused. The confession was a little random despite its sincerity. But all the same, Dean shrugged. "Water under the bridge, Sammy. Not gonna be something I'll hold against you."
Sam nodded. He sort of wished he didn't say anything, like he was just bringing up stuff that was already resolved and done with. But it was just something he needed to say. "Alright, well, I just figured I'd say so. Since, I know, Dad was pretty pissed about it back then. I never really knew exactly how you felt," he said the last part almost like a question. He looked over at Dean, waiting for a response. But all he got was a nod that said the conversation was over.
The younger Winchester was silent, waiting to see if his brother had any other response to give. He realized Dean had not planned on giving any other answer.
"Were you angry at me?"
Dean once again looked back at his brother, seeing that the conversation had started up again. "What?"
"Were you angry?" Sam repeated. "You know, that I left."
"Why would I be? It's all in the past, anyway," Dean responded, looking he wanted the discussion to be over.
"Yeah, I know, but when I left you, well, you didn't really do anything. You just watched. So, I wasn't sure. Did you... want me to leave? Or were you happy for me? Or what?" Sam said, slightly more confident. He wanted an answer.
Dean sighed and stared ahead at the road. "I wasn't angry, Sam. I didn't want you to leave. Heck, I'm not even sure if I was really happy for you or not. But, I didn't do anything because it was what you wanted. You knew what you wanted and you went for it. I wasn't going to say anything against that. Dad was furious, but I wasn't. I wasn't exactly angry and I wasn't exactly happy for you. Y'know, maybe I was envious. But one thing's for sure: I was proud of you, Sam. I was proud that you did what you wanted to do. I'm not Dad. 'Cause Dad was an ass when it came to defying him. As, long as you were happy, I would be okay. I guess, I knew then that I couldn't control you forever."
He paused. When he did, Sam mumbled in relief, "Thanks, Dean."
"And, Sam, don't be sorry for that, okay? At least, the people at Stanford tried to make you use your head, learn that your melon isn't just for neglecting haircuts," Dean said with a smirk.
Sam rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. "Geez, thanks, Dean."
"Anytime, li'l brother."
