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Chapter 2: Leaving

Eighteen year old Sam Winchester lay on his bed, having given up on sleep hours ago, knowing it was useless and would just assault him with nightmares. Sam Winchester was terrified because his ten years were almost over, and in two more days he would be dancing the hellfire salsa, but listening to the sounds of his big brother and father snoring, Sam couldn't help, but think that it had been worth it.

He still didn't regret a thing and he knew that if he had to do it again, he wouldn't change a thing. Those ten years with his family that he'd bought were worth anything and he was aware that if he had any chance of not going all dark-side up there he'd have to hold onto his family with all his might. His family, god, he loved them to death, he really did, and in order to spare them the pain of knowing what he'd done, he had conveniently left his Stanford acceptance letter on the coffee table of the motel they were staying in.

Stanford, Sam barely held back his laugh at the idea of him going to college. Yeah, he had graduated high school at sixteen and he liked learning new things, but his family was the most important thing in his life. He wondered if his family would find it at all weird that he hadn't left for college when he was sixteen or if they would just chalk it down as him waiting until he was eighteen. Either way, Sam Winchester would be leaving his family tomorrow, in the way that would cause them the least amount of pain, and making his way to the depths of hell the day after.

Man, he was such a weirdo, most people planned vacations and here he was planning on the best way to get to hell. Sam chuckled wryly, running his hands through his chocolate brown locks and then curled up on his side, looking at his brother, noting the steady rise and fall of his chest, something that had lulled him to sleep on the hardest of nights. Then within a minute he we out like a light, for once not assaulted with nightmares for the duration of the night, a rare occurrence in Sam Winchester's life. Apparently, for once in his life, someone was giving him a break.

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The next morning, Sam Winchester woke up to the chaos that he'd anticipated, mainly his dad and brother yelling, "Sam, get out here!" Rolling out of bed, Sam quickly walked to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. When he was presentable, he looked at himself in the mirror, then closing his eyes, he blew out a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what was to come and praying to God that he would not breakdown in the middle of it all. He prayed that he would have the strength to see this through, the strength to protect his family from the truth. Then when he thought he was as ready as he would ever be, he walked out of the bathroom and headed for the living room, the source of the chaos.

His dad was the first to spot him, his face was red and the vein in his forehead looked like it was about to pop…Sam wondered if that was healthy. "Sam, what is this?" asked his father, holding up the acceptance letter and effectively pulling him out of his musings. Dean was standing next to their father, as if to stay I'm with him on this one.

Sam, barely keeping his wits about him, replied as insolently as he could to insure that his father would get even more aggravated, "Well, seeing as you're already mad, I'd say you already know what it is. So, why are you asking me?" Sam couldn't believe that he'd just smarted off to his father, but hey, it was all part of the plan.

"Sam Winchester, don't you get smart with me. When were you planning on telling us about this? And what about hunting, the family business, we have to find the thing that killed your mother!"

Sam couldn't believe he was about to say this, he knew this would be the final blow, the thing that shattered their small family, "The thing that killed mom? Dad, we've been searching for it my entire life and what have we got to show for it? Nothing and anyway, killing that thing's not gonna change anything, Dad, and it sure as hell isn't gonna bring mom back so…" Sam was grateful when Dean stopped him from continuing and saying something that had the potential of breaking their gruff, marine father, by grabbing him by the scruff of his collar, and slamming him against the wall of the motel room.

"Shut up, Sam, just shut up! Don't you dare talk about mom like that, just because you can't deal with the fact that you're giving up on this family, because you're selfish. Quit blaming Dad for your problems and the fact that you're feeling guilty because you know you're wrong." Then slamming him once more for good measure, once again knocking the breath out of him, he let him go and Sam sagged to the floor. Sam got his thoughts together as he got his breath back, so step one of the plan: get Dean mad, definitely accomplished. Now for step two: get Dad to kick him out. Sam took a deep breath and got back up, ready as he'd ever be to get kicked out of his family.

Sam started talking, explaining why he was leaving, the way he would've if he was really leaving for college, "I want to go to college and become a lawyer. I'll come back for breaks and we can still hunt." If he wasn't about to die in two days, Sam might've considered becoming an actor, he was putting on a pretty convincing performance.

Sam knew that when his dad was angry, he was unreasonable and that's exactly what he was counting on, and his dad didn't disappoint. "You walk out this door, you walk out on this family, you don't ever come back, Sam. You hear me?"

Concealing his pain and grief as anger, Sam hissed, "Loud and clear, Sir," he then turned and headed for his room, slamming the door on his way in. His walls shattered the second he entered the privacy of his room and, for the second time in his eighteen years of life, Sam Winchester broke down. He was going to die with his family mad at him and hating him. He was so tempted to go out and tell them the truth, but his love for his family prevented him from being so selfish.

When he'd gotten himself together, which was about five minutes later, he grabbed his duffel, which he hadn't even bothered to unpack when they'd gotten here. He then grabbed the money he'd been saving for a year just for this day and the bus ticket that he'd purchased yesterday. Finally he grabbed a picture of his family, the one taken before the fire that had everyone in it, and stuffed it into his duffel. Then shrugging on his jacket and once more releasing a deep breath, Sam raised his head high and squared his shoulders, walking out of his room and through the living room. And then, carrying his meager belongings and without once looking at his family, afraid that he would be tempted to stay, Sam Winchester walked out of the room and away from his family.

…TBC…

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