I have to thank my Beta Warr2654, without her this story might never have been published.

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Chapter Two – June 5th 1998 Knowles, Oklahoma

Sam felt sore all over. He could tell from the light coming through the window that it was late. He should already be at school. It didn't matter though. He probably didn't need to go. He was going to pass all his classes, finals or not. He was an exceptional student; teachers said it in every school he attended. His dad had been proud of that once, but over time Sam thought it became an annoyance. He stood out, and that was not something to be proud of in the Winchester household.

Sam might not get all A's this year but he didn't mind that right then. He almost decided to stay home but he didn't know if that would make his father happy or angry. He figured it was better to go to school than risk it. Trudging to the bathroom Sam listened for any sound that would indicate his father was up. He didn't hear anything as he slipped inside and locked the door behind him. He showered and brushed his teeth quickly. He wanted to stall but he knew it was time to look in the mirror.

It was still slightly fogged from the steam. Clearing a space in the condensation, Sam forced himself to examine his reflection. He was afraid of what he might see. It wasn't bad though. His cheeks looked flushed and a little puffy but not bruised, yet. He felt the most tenderness on his right cheek bone. His neck was stiff and sore. Turning his head Sam could see faint marks around his neck made by the collar of his t-shirt. He clenched the edge of the sink looking away from his reflection. He needed to get to school.

*"Sam are you alright? You're late for school." His father said through the door, snapping Sam out of his daze.

"Sam are you in there?" Sam's eyes shot doorknob as he heard his father's voice. Then he remembered he had locked it. He hesitated, not wanting to answer, but knowing he should.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm sorry I overslept. I'm going in a minute." He had spoken in a voice that he hoped sounded calm.

His dad didn't say anything at first and Sam thought he was gone, then he spoke again through the door. "Alright I'll give you a ride when you're ready. I have to go pick up some supplies. I'll drop you off on the way."

Sam's heart clenched for a second. "You don't have to wait for me. I can just walk, it's ok."

"I'm going that way and you're already late. Are you sure you're ok in there?"

John was beginning to wonder if Sam was sick. He was very rarely late for school, and on those occasions it was usually his or Dean's fault.

"I'm ok. You're right, I'm sorry. I'll be right there."

-o-o-o-o-

John paused by the door for another minute before heading down to the living room.

He had been in the process of packing up everything they would be taking with them to the cabin when he heard the water running in the bathroom. He had amassed a large collection of weapons over the years. He went back to sorting out the guns and knives he had selected for Sam's training, putting them in a separate bag. He hoped Sam wouldn't drag his feet when training started. He knew Sam would rather do almost anything than hunt, but John needed to know that if something happened to him or Dean, Sam could protect himself.

He admitted to himself that he was asking a lot of a fifteen-year-old, but he knew what was out there waiting in the dark. John thought of all the people he had saved over the years, then he thought of the ones he hadn't saved. The people who had died because they hadn't known how to protect themselves, hadn't known what to protect themselves from. Mary. Sam was so much like her. It hurt sometimes to look at him, but most of the time John thanked God for the light in their lives. Thanked God for Dean who kept that light alive. He knew he put too much on Dean, depended on him to take care of Sam for most of his life. Dean stepped up though, without being asked twice and without complaint. Dean understood why they lived like they did. Why they couldn't stop hunting, couldn't have a normal life. People would die! They would keep dying until someone killed the monsters.If we didn't do it who would?

He was pulled out of his contemplation by the awareness that Sam was standing in the doorway with his backpack.

"You ready?" John asked turning to face him.

Sam didn't meet John's eyes but nodded. John frowned looking Sam up and down. He looked off somehow, agitated.

"You sure you're not sick? It's the last day, you could stay home."

Sam glanced up, meeting Johns eyes for the first time since entering the room. John was surprised to see something like caution shining in them. Before he could analyze further Sam broke the gaze, locking his eyes on the floor.

"I'm sure. I have a final, I should go. Unless you want me not to go?"

John watched Sam shift his weight restlessly from one foot to the other.

"No you should go if you feel up to it. I'll finish packing up while you're gone."

Sam nodded in agreement, John continued packing the bag in front of him.

"Is all your stuff packed?"

John looked at Sam to see him nod again.

It was on the tip of John's tongue to ask if he was sick again. Sam had been acting strange all morning. To start with he was late to school. Now he wasn't saying more than a few words strung together at a time and he was suddenly very interested in the floorboards.

He almost asked, but a thought occurred to him: Maybe Sam was sulking because he had to start training. John hoped that wasn't it. Sam couldn't drag his feet on this. It was life or death stuff he needed to learn.

-o-o-o-o-

Sam was still standing in the doorway. He wished his dad would let him walk to school but he wasn't asking again. Right now he just wanted to get out of the house for a while. He hoped his dad wouldn't change his mind and make him stay home. They both knew he wasn't sick. A little heartsick maybe but that couldn't be cured with medicine anyway. His dad was behaving as if nothing had happened last night. If not for the stiffness in his neck he could almost believe he had imagined it.

"Let's head out then" his dad said, turning away to grab his old leather jacket. Dean had always loved that jacket. A few months ago Sam had seen Dean trying it on when his dad was in the shower. His brother hadn't known Sam was watching him; he would have been embarrassed. But Sam hadn't been surprised. Dean always wanted to be just like their dad.

Sam followed him outside to his truck. Dean had the Impala, Dad had given it to him on his eighteenth birthday. Climbing inside Sam continued to think about Dean. What would Dean say if he told him what happened? Would he believe him? Maybe but maybe not. Sam barely believed it himself. If Dean did believe him, it would probably break his heart. Dean thought their dad was a hero. Hell Dean thought Dad was a superhero. He had said so once when they were kids. The night Sam found out monsters were real.

They had been driving for a few minutes in silence. Sam watched the houses as they passed.

"You're quiet today Sam. Are you worried about starting your training?"

Sam turned looking at his dad from the corner of his eye. "No, I'm ready. I know it's important."

"Really?" His dad gave him a questioning stare.

"Really." Sam cleared his throat. "You were right, what you said. I need to learn these things. Lives depend on us right?"

He meant it. His dad had scared him last night but he had also made him think. He didn't want to be a burden that had to be protected. He wanted to be able to help Dean, watch out for him like he watched out for Sam. He may not want to hunt but that was what his family did. Refusing to participate didn't change anything. It just meant his dad and Dean had one less person watching their backs.

His dad looked stunned for a second before he smiled.

"Well I'm not sure what I said that inspired this turnaround but I hope it sticks."

Something dawned on Sam when he realized what his dad had said. Maybe he wasn't pretending not to remember; maybe he really didn't. He had been drinking. He had been out hunting. Sam considered if a concussion and alcohol combined could explain the sudden change in demeanor. It was possible.

He clasped onto the idea and looked over at his father again. He looked like he had every other morning. He looked a little tired, but not stern like he had the night before.

His dad seemed to feel his gaze, because he glanced over, crinkling the sides of his eyes with a small smile.

Sam felt a weight lifted, and smiled back before looking back out the window. They were pulling into the school parking lot. Sam took a deep breath as he stepped out of the car feeling much more optimistic about the summer.

"I'll pick you up, then we'll head out." Sam nodded at his dad, smiling.

"Sounds good." Sam watched his dad pull out of the parking lot before turning to head inside.

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