1999
It was just a month in Minnesota, that's all it should have been. 'Normal' for us Winchester's is in-and-out, maybe two, three weeks, tops. We'd been somewhere for about two months before, and that was hard on both of the boys, though in different ways. I don't think I'll stay more than a month now anywhere. Early on in the year, I heard at a hunter's bar (Clive's I think) rumors of a possible wendigo case in Blue Rock, Minnesota. None of them knew how to deal with one, but I told them I'd handle it. So this April, me and the boys headed over to Blue Rock—a tiny, near-dead town with a lot of campers in tents. That means easy meals for a wendigo.
Sam settled right into the routine of school, because he knows wendigo cases don't take one or two nights. He's always cautious going into new schools, what with the work he'll have to do explaining why he's at his fifteenth school that year. Hell, he's smart enough to be a senior. But at least he likes the classes—that's what he told Dean, anyway. Sammy rarely tells me stuff these days, though I guess he never really was a talkative kid. Dean, on the other hand, tells me everything except girl stuff and things he shouldn't be doing. Dammit, it's hard seeing Dean twenty years old and not getting a real life out there. Part of me wants to cut him loose and never let him hunt, but by God, he's part of it now and he can end this whole thing and avenge Mary. He deserves to.
April 15th, I came so, so close to killing the sonuvabitch, but instead seriously wounded it and it crawled back to its den, which I don't yet know the location of. I came in late that night and Sam was on his laptop, earbuds in and doing homework as he sat on the couch. He barely acknowledged me until I asked him where his brother was, to which he pulled an earbud out and pointed to the room where the beds were. All the lights were off, but I could see Dean's silhouette sleeping in one of the twin beds and I called softly, "Dean! Hey!"
I thought he was out for good and started to leave until I heard him start to moan, "Mom...Mom..." I froze then, hearing him toss and turn and groan louder, until he suddenly let out a scream and bolted upright. He saw me then as he sat panting and sweaty, his eyes wide and unblinking. "It was mom again," Dean admitted after a beat of silence, us just sitting there in the dark. I'm guessing Sam didn't hear anything. I'm going to have to tell him to turn his music down in the future. "You have them, too, right, Dad?" Dean inquired, sounding almost distantly hopeful I'd say yes and understand what he was going through.
Hastily blinking away the goddamn tears in my eyes, I turned away and only told him, "Yes," then went to get a beer. I hate that Dean can only dream of his mother. He needs her with him, sending him off to college or the big city. I need her. Jesus, Mary. Why did you have to go?
Next day Sam came home grumbling about how he was going to kick someone's head in, and since Dean couldn't ask him about it at the time (dinner retrieval), I did. It was interesting, to say the least. It took a bit, but Sammy told me about a girl he liked (he blushed when he told me) and some other 'douch-bag' (Sam's wording) was trying to make a move on her. I honestly didn't have any idea what to say. I'd only ever really loved Mary, and there was no 'douche-bag' involved then. Dean heard about it when he came back with food, and told Sam to kick the guy in the nuts and skip school with the girl. Sammy flushed and told him that she wasn't that kind of girl; he'd met her in mathletes. I asked him what the hell that was, since I was honest-to-God curious. He shut me down with a look and told me shortly that it was a team for people who liked math, and left it at that. Damn, that boy can get moody.
Dean wanted details on the hunt, and before I knew it, he got me to say 'yes' to him joining. The kid is a natural people-person, I've gotta say that. He'll give this big, enthusiastic smile and talk about something so fervently you can't help but sway his way. Sam, on the other hand, speaks softly and wisely. Reminds me of Mary that way, so help me, God. About two weeks in and Dean and I nail the wendigo with a blowtorch. Dean makes some joke about a birthday candle, and when I laugh, he looks so happy. I wished Sammy could've been out there, too, laughing along, but all he wants to do is go to school and get a girlfriend from math club. He doesn't understand. Anderson, Ms. Lyle, Silas...Sam doesn't know a thing about them; he doesn't know how much danger he'd be in if he started living a normal life so young. No, I've got to protect him and teach him to protect himself. God only knows what I'd do if something happened to him or his brother. Then I'd really go off the rails.
Got a call from Bobby the night after we wrapped up the hunt; he said he himself just finished a long, tough case, and that there was a bottle of whiskey waiting for me at his house. Being the 'great' father I am, I decided to go visit Bobby quick and leave the boys in 'harmless' little Blue Rock. We were close enough, anyway, Minnesota to South Dakota. I figured I'd leave them for three days at most, then be back to the motel in no time. I'm a disgrace. I mean, with what happened in the two days I was gone? Only Sam and Dean knew the whole story...
