Sam sat in the booth at the Dairy Bar his attention solely focused on the pretty dark haired girl sitting beside him, her hand tightly held by his. The hot fudge sundae they were sharing sitting in the center of the table with their two spoons sticking out of what was left of the ice-cream.

Allison playfully collected some whipped cream from the bowl, with her finger and plopped it on the tip of Sam's nose. Sam gave an indignant grunt; his mouth twisted in a false frown and proceeded to do the same to her. Soon they were both covered in the remaining sundae and found themselves being ushered out of the store, when Allison decided to end the little contest of who could cover whom the most by dumping the remaining contents of the bowl over Sam's head. The two teens fled the tiny ice-cream parlor, their laughter floating along the cool spring breeze; neither of them aware of the presence following them.

Sam walked Allison, the five blocks, back to her house and headed back to his apartment. His mind was still on her and the good time he had just had that he didn't see the hand reaching for him from between two buildings until it was too late. Letting out a surprised yelp, he found himself pulled into an alley and shoved against a wall.

John gripped the front of his youngest boy's shirt with an iron tight grip. He made sure he was standing well inside the boys personal space, his nose mere inches from Sam's. Sam shivered when his eyes took in the anger that burned deep in his father's. Sam's previous thought of not being able to get any deeper in to it than he already was changed, in the blink of an eye, to oh sh!t, I really stepped in it now.

John's hot breath tickled Sam's nose and he could clearly smell the alcohol that lingered there. He felt his dad's body tremble with rage and he prayed that whatever his dad had in mind would be quick and as painless as humanly possible.

John smiled when he saw the fear that had set up residence in his youngest. Taking a deep breath he let go of Sam's shirt and took a step back. "You lose track of time, Sam," John asked his voice letting Sam know that no nonsense was going to be tolerated.

"Dean, told me that you had run to the corner store and that you'd be right back. I realized once he had mentioned Caleb, it was his way of getting you gone so he could talk to me," John watched his son and noticed the way he began shuffling his feet once Caleb was mentioned. John's smile grew, 'Good, he's nervous, shows that he hasn't completely lost all his sense', John thought to himself; then continued, "Imagine my surprise when Caleb called and mentioned that he had been asked to join us on a hunt because I had agreed to let you go out. What I'd like to know is which one of you decided to call Caleb and lie to him? I know which of you did the calling (John pointedly looked at Sam); what I want to know is which of you decided that calling him before talking to me was a good idea?"

John already knew the answer; he wanted to hear it from Sam. Sam couldn't look his father in the eye, the level of agitation he felt from the older man making him feel all of six years old and brought back the memory of what happened the time he thought hiding from his dad was a good idea. Sam bristled as the memory came to him. He was a grown man, he wasn't six anymore and he wasn't going to allow his father to treat him like a child anymore.

Sam squared his shoulders, brought his eyes up to meet his dad's and defiantly answered, "No, I didn't lose track of time. I met Allison at the store and decided to go get some ice-cream with her. It was my idea to call Caleb. Dean mentioned he was close by and said that he would talk to you about Caleb going in my place. I wasn't going to risk you saying no, so I called knowing you wouldn't say no and risk looking like an ass in front of him. I took the initiative and found someone to go in my place. It's not like you really needed me anyway, you just wanted to keep me from doing something I really wanted to. I'm eighteen dad. I don't need your permission to get ice-cream with a girl and I sure as hell don't have to go along on any hunts that I don't want to."

Sam paused to catch his breath and when he spoke his voice was low and laced with hate, "This way of life is something you choose for yourself, and you just dragged me along. I don't want this, I never did. You don't give a second thought about me, unless it's something to do with a hunt or something you do to impress your friends. All I ever wanted was to stay in one place, to go to the same school for more than a few months, to be normal. You can't make me do anything anymore. I'm an adult now and I won't have you treating me like I'm still a little kid. I can take care of myself; god knows I've been doing it long enough."

The sound of the slap echoed off the walls of the alley, along with the sound of Sam's surprised and pain filled cry. John grabbed the front of Sam's shirt and pulled him close; ignoring the blood that dripped from his sons split lip. "Enough," he ground out, "You think you're so grown up? Then leave. Go on and leave. I can't make you stay. I can't make you go. I can't make you do anything, right?" John let go of Sam's shirt giving him a shove back.

Sam stood his back against the wall, his father's hands on either side of him trapping him there. The defiance he had felt seconds ago having been replaced by trepidation; he lowered his eyes and surrendered. John smiled, "Not so sure of yourself are you, now? Yeah, Sammy the world can be a cold place when you're all alone. You think you have it bad now? Well, even you are smart enough to realize just how tough things could be on your own. I'll tell you what. I'm willing to let this little incident slide, this time, but I'm warning you Sam, you don't want to keep pushing me. I expect you to meet your brother right after school tomorrow, you both owe me for this little favor and I know just how you'll repay me. A friend of mine has a house a few towns over that needs some work done. You two just volunteered. I'll drive you over and you both can spend the weekend working on it, and when you're not working you can be training. I'll pick you back up on Sunday and we should all be here in time to have supper with Caleb. What ya, think Sammy, sound like a plan?"

Sam nodded, then quickly added, "Yes, sir."

John smiled, pushed himself back away from Sam and said "Good boy. Now what ya say we head back to the apartment? I'm kinda hungry. How's pizza sound?"

Sam just nodded and followed his dad out of the alley. He had been planning on going with Allison and a few friends to the beach cottage this weekend, but now; now he wasn't so sure. His mind went to the acceptance letter safely locked away in his locker at school and a smile tugged at his lips. 'All I have to do is make it through the summer. Come this fall I'm off to Stanford, he can't stop me.' His smile faded when he thought about leaving his brother, but he didn't have a choice. 'This life isn't for me and I can't live with dad for much longer, one of us is sure to wind up dead. I don't want to leave Dean. I'm not leaving Dean. I'm leaving dad and this life. Dean can come with, if he wants, but only if he wants.'