As afternoon faded to dusk, Sam Winchester walked along the edge of a two-lane Alabama highway. July would soon slip into August and rivulets of sweat traced a map along Sam's back and arms. A drooping billboard cheerfully proclaimed, "3 miles to Union Springs: 'Serendipity Center of the South!'" Sam's left eye and cheek smarted and the knuckles of his right hand throbbed in time with each step, but he trudged along, smiling. He was out.
Sam finally collapsed on a lumpy twin bed in the Union Springs Budget Inn, debating the necessity of cleanliness versus sleep. Glancing in the direction of the lurid pink tiled bathroom, the youngest Winchester was struck by the absence of a second bed and felt a pang of something like regret. After a quick shower spent ducking to get beneath the spigot, Sam gradually drifted off into a fitful sleep, silence buzzing louder than AC/DC.
The next morning, Sam examined one of the credit cards Dean had slipped him after their father had stopped by the side of the road and set an ultimatum; forget about Stanford or get out of his car. A knock 'em down, drag 'em out fight had ensued and Sam was left sitting on the edge of a cotton field 10 miles from the closest town. He didn't dare spend too much on the stolen card and knew that Colin Webster's credit card would only be safe to use until he left Alabama. After grabbing a bite to eat from the coffee shop next to the train station, Sam set about finding a route from Union Springs to Stanford. It would take a few days and he would have to transfer lines in both Dallas and Las Vegas. Purchasing the tickets, Sam packed the pockets of his duffel full of water and as many pre-made mushy convenience store sandwiches as could fit. Ditching the card in a trash can, Sam settled in on a bench to wait for Colin's train to arrive.
Sam had never been on a train before. Watching the countryside speed by, he found the lack of a road disconcerting. Or maybe it was the lack of a Dean. He savored the squished sandwiches, willing them to last the 4 days to California. Sam pulled out his worn copy of Hamlet and began re-reading from the beginning. His freshman literature course had five required summer reading books, but he didn't know how he would get his hands on the other four. At the Dallas train station, Sam guiltily tucked a storefront copy of A Tale of Two Cities into the large pocket of his jacket, knowing that he had to save the remaining credit card for the month before school started.
In Stanford, Sam used the final credit card to reserve the cheapest motel room he could find under the name of Joe Kent until September. He couldn't blame dad for not thinking about the month until school when his full scholarship would cover a dorm and a meal plan at the cafeteria. In a blind stroke of luck, Sam was able to get a dishwashing job at a local diner. The cook didn't mind giving him food that had gone too old to sell. Tearing through textbooks and novels from the library in his hours off, Sam settled in for a long, hot month alone.
On September 3rd, Sam left Joe's motel room for the final time and walked into the Stanford auditorium, heading for the W-Z table to pick up his schedule and freshman information packet. As he walked across the quad to his US History course, a girl's shriek of laughter had his hand twitching to grab the knife in his boot. A skateboarder swerving too close provoked a violent flinch. When Sam entered the lecture hall, he bodily shrugged off Sam-the-Hunter and plastered a dopey college-boy grin on his face. This was what he had always dreamed about. He was out and maybe, if he smiled enough, it would start to feel right.