After School Special

A month later they were in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. John had promised that they would stay there for a while. It was a relatively short drive to Bobby's place in Sioux Falls and to Pastor Jim in Blue Earth, Minnesota. The house they were renting was small and the brothers had to share a room but at least it was clean.

John was asleep in his bedroom upstairs and Dean was passed out on the couch when Sam came home from school. The night before he'd been helping John hunt a werewolf one town over and had gotten back in time to see Sam off to school in the morning.

The sound of the front door closing gently made its way to Dean's ears and he started to wake up. "That you, Sammy?" he asked.

"Yeah." Sam dumped his schoolbag on the kitchen table and sat on the end of the couch as Dean sat up, running a hand through his hair to try and wake himself up.

"How was school?"

"Really good, I got an A+ on my paper on the Civil War," Sam gushed happily.

"That's great geek-boy, just keep your voice down, Dad's still sleeping," Dean warned, but his tone was light. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't really mind," Sam replied. "As long as it's not mac and cheese." Sam had never gotten over that week years ago when they'd literally lived off of mac and cheese.

"Well we got burgers or fried chicken from the joint two doors down or…that's about it really, I'm too tired to venture further abroad," Dean said.

"Speaking of, how was the hunt last night?" Sam asked.

"Fine."

"That's all I get? Fine?" Sam laughed.

"Yeah, I mean, we got the damn thing, but it threw Dad across the parking lot regardless. He wasn't happy when he went upstairs, I doubt he's gonna be happy when he comes back downstairs," Dean said, his eyes downcast.

"He's never happy these days," Sam muttered under his breath.

"Can it Sam, he's got a lot on his plate," Dean replied, stretching the sore muscles in his shoulders.

"Exactly what does Dad have on his plate that is so hectic?"

"Finding the demon that killed Mom for a start," Dean replied, his tone getting harsh. "Putting food on the table for us, making sure you're in school, making sure we've got enough money for tomorrow, next week. Jeez it's not easy you know?"

"You know what Dean? I see you putting food on the table, I see you driving me to school and picking me up – at least when you're in town that is – I see you going out to bars every night to hustle pool so we have money," Sam said angrily. "That man does nothing except chase after ghosts and demonic omens and beat up his own son."

"That's enough, Sam"-

"No Dean, this is no way to live. Don't you ever think about the future?" Sam eyes drifted over to his schoolbag sitting on the kitchen table. Inside was the college application he'd already started filling out.

"Shut up Sam." Dean stood up.

"Where are you going?" Sam snapped.

"To get you dinner."

"Dean"-

"No, Sam, I don't want to hear it, just…do your homework or whatever it is that you do and I'll be back soon, alright?" Dean tried his hardest to keep his voice calm but he couldn't take this conversation topic right now. He grabbed the keys to the place and opened the front door. "Just be quiet. Please. I don't wanna come back to find Dad screaming at you."

"Okay, Dean," Sam dragged the words out. But at least he gave his brother a smile which Dean returned.

Dean closed the front door softly and started down the street. Cedar Rapids was a pretty quiet town by their standards. In fact, all of the hunts Dean and John had gone on had involved at least an hour's drive. Maybe that was why John had chosen the place to temporarily set up camp. The street they lived on was a ten minute drive and a half hour's walk to Sam's school and at the corner was a convenience store and a diner which the Winchesters frequented.

Dean walked in and got their usual order, two burgers, one with extra onions, pie and bottles of Coke. Dean had started drinking beer behind closed doors with John but whenever he was with Sam he tended to stick to soft drinks so he didn't make his brother feel like the odd one out.

It had actually been pretty cool, calm and collected between Dean and his father this past month. Dean was under the impression that his painful brush with the demon back in Bismarck was the cause. Dean was normally pretty careful on hunts; he had good reflexes, was quick on his feet and could generally outsmart the best supernatural sons of bitches that they came across. But that demon was a whole new level. He'd been so fast to throw him around the room, leading to that bloody gash on his head.

Normally John would've just let Sam patch Dean up after a bad hunt but he'd shown a whole different caring side to him that afternoon at Bobby's. After that, John had backed off big time. He hadn't hit Dean once in the past month and had even given him rare praise on a few of the hunts they'd been on. Cracking a couple of beers after a hunt gone well had even started to replace the backhanded slaps and taunts of "Why didn't you hit it sooner goddamnit?".

Dean was broken out of his reverie by the diner waitress handing him a plastic bag full of food. The scent wafted up to his nose and he smiled. Maybe things were turning around. He walked back to the house but his stomach dropped as he got closer. He could hear John shouting at his brother. He ran up to the door and unlocked it just as he heard his father say, "You think you can pull the wool over my eyes Sam? How dare you!" followed by the sound of a fist hitting skin.

Dean rushed inside to see his father holding a bunch of papers in one hand and Sam with a look of shock plastered on his face, his nose bloody. Dean closed the door quickly, it wouldn't do to have the neighbors hearing this, and dumped the food on the table.

"What's going on here?" he asked calmly.

John stalked over to him and shoved the papers in his hands.

"What's this?" Dean asked.

"Why don't you use your goddamn brain and figure it out Dean," John snarled at him before turning his deadly gaze back onto Sam.

Dean read the first couple of lines. And then re-read them. "College?" he asked, dumbfounded. "You're applying to college?" The amount of emotions in those words was overwhelming. Dean was astounded and in awe of his brother for actually having the smarts to be applying as well as trying to do it behind John's back. But his words were tinged with what could only be described as betrayal. If Sam wanted to go to college, it meant Sam wanted to leave them behind.

"I was only thinking about it," Sam protested, wiping the blood from his nose. "I haven't even filled it all out yet, see?"

Dean dropped the papers gently onto the kitchen table and looked at his brother. Really looked at him. His eyes were red from tears and redness was blooming over his cheekbone from the punch John had thrown at him when Dean walked in. Something in Dean suddenly snapped. The college application was forgotten. He turned on his father.

"You hit him?" Dean all but shouted. "How could you? After everything?"

"Shut up Dean, if you were in my position"-

"How can you say that? I help with everything! Everything these days," Dean said, his temper rising. "How could you do that? After you promised me! After everything I've gone through?"

"What you've gone through? What are you talking about?" John scoffed. "You got hit by your father a few times when you made mistakes."

"A few times? Watch what you're saying Dad, cause you're not making much sense," Dean said. He knew he was getting on thin ice. But his father had promised to never hit Sam. He'd promised that six years ago. And all this time he'd kept that promise, beating Dean black and blue and bloody all too often.

"You better watch your mouth boy," John threatened, his voice low. "Unless you want a bloody nose to match your brother's."

"That's right," Dean replied. "Do what you always do. Hit me. Go on, I bet Mom would be real proud."

That was it. It was like Dean had uttered the magic words. John lunged at him and swung a powerful right hook sending Dean to the floor with a split lip. "How dare you.." John said menacingly. "How dare you even bring her into this."

Dean pushed himself up, first to his hands and knees and then to his feet. He wiped the trickle of blood off his chin and caught eyes with Sam. His brother was frozen to the spot as if he'd suddenly grown roots into the floor. Dean warned him with a look not to interfere.

"Apologise now and I'll go easy on you," John said, his hands still in fists by his side.

Dean sighed. "What would I be apologizing for? Going out to get dinner and breaking up your stupid fight with Sam with some home truths? You wouldn't go easy on me anyway."

"One more chance, boy."

"Forget it, sir," Dean replied twisting the last word around to make it an insult.

"Just remember you asked for it," John said before grabbing his shoulder and burying his fist into Dean's stomach.

Dean gasped, winded by the punch, but, before he could get a breath, John punched him again in the same spot. And again. Dean coughed and wheezed trying to catch his breath. What he really wanted to do was double over and hold his abused stomach muscles but John's hand on his shoulder kept him upright. Not for long though. Another punishing right hook hit his cheekbone and he collapsed in a heap. He tried to get up but was thrown into the wall behind him when John's steel-toed boot connected with his ribs.

Sam didn't know what it was that made him snap out of his trance. Maybe the agonised way Dean was gasping for breath or the thud that his body made when it hit the drywall but he grabbed John's shoulder and tugged him backwards.

"Stop Dad you're gonna kill him!" he shouted.

"Get off me Sam," John growled, backhanding his youngest. Dean heard the sound of John striking Sam and got to his hands and knees. Finally he stood up, one hand on his ribs, and pulled John away from his brother.

"Don't touch him," he said hoarsely.

"You want another round? Really?" John almost laughed. "Forget your stupid promise Dean, you're gonna have to earn it back."

"What?" Dean asked, shocked at his father.

"You heard me, earn it. You really think I'm gonna do anything you ask me? After the things you said tonight? About…about Mary?" Suddenly John's voice broke. He rubbed a hand over his face in despair. Thoughts of his late wife seemed to bring him back to reality somewhat. He staggered slightly and threw a hand out to the kitchen table to keep him on his feet. He caught sight of the college application sitting there that had started this whole fight. "I'm sorry Sam. It's just…the thought of you leaving…going someplace where me and Dean can't protect you…can't watch out for you."

"It's my choice," Sam said, his words firm but his voice shaky.

John nodded silently and sank into one of the chairs. He caught sight of Dean, his eldest son using the wall to keep himself on his feet. His bottom lip was split and trickling blood, there was a fresh cut on his cheekbone and his left eye promised to be pretty black in a few hours. He was looking at his father with a roiling mix of emotions displayed openly in his green eyes: anger, pain, disgust, fear. "Christ," John breathed. He put his head in his hands.

Dean looked up and caught Sam's eyes in confusion. Sam shrugged. "Uh…"Dean cleared his throat and tried again. "Dad? You…okay?"

Sam glared at his brother. How could Dean ask how his father was when, if the wall wasn't there to hold him up, Dean would be in a crumpled, painful heap on the floor.

"I'm so sorry boys," John whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Dean took a step away from the wall and towards the table, gritting his teeth in pain. Sam rushed over to help his brother to a chair next to John. Sam had tried to move him to the couch but Dean shook his head no. Sam sat in the third chair, fuming.

"Dean I'm so sorry," John said, looking up at his son.

"It's okay Dad"-

"It's not okay"- Sam was silenced with a glare from Dean.

"Dean I don't know what comes over me sometimes, I just see red," John murmured.

"I know, Dad, I know. But you can't hit Sammy, you promised me," Dean said softly.

"Dean, he can't hit you either," Sam exclaimed. How could his brother just go along with all of this crap?

"I'm sorry boys," John repeated. "I guess I just find myself at the bottom of a bottle too often to really see what I'm doing." He stood. "I'm…gonna go out, hustle some pool, alright? Maybe we can have dinner together tomorrow night. One that doesn't involve burgers."

Dean made to stand up as well but John put a hand on his shoulder. Dean forced himself not to flinch.

"You stay home son, Sam take care of your brother alright?"

"When don't I?" Sam replied angrily.

"Sam, shut up," Dean said softly.

John grabbed his jacket and left quietly, his head down.

"I literally cannot believe you, Dean," Sam said.

Dean wiped a trickle of blood off his mouth. "Why did you go showing him that?" He pointed to the college application. "You really think he was gonna take kindly to it? I told you we were both exhausted from last night as well. Pick your times better Sammy."

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm peachy," Dean shot back. "Look, you should've at least told me about it first. Then I could help you break it to Dad but…"

"But what?"

"You're not really thinking of going to college are you?" Dean looked into his brother's eyes trying to determine what he was thinking.

"I don't know Dean…I…I'd kinda like to?" Sam looked up at his brother from underneath his mop of messy brown hair.

Dean nodded. Silence dropped over the pair until finally Dean said quietly, "Hey Sammy do you think you could grab something to uh…clean up all this…" He waved a hand in the direction of his bloody face.

"Sure Dean," Sam replied. A couple minutes later he returned with a damp towel and gently wiped off the blood from Dean's mouth and cheek. Both cuts had stopped bleeding finally and Sam grabbed two of the ice packs out of the freezer, one for Dean and one for himself.

The two sat in silence until Sam retrieved his now-cold burger from the forgotten bag of take out on the table. "You want yours?"

"Sure." The brothers ate in silence. Sam finished his burger in record time but Dean only ate half of his, his appetite had departed the first time his dad had sucker punched him in the stomach. Once they were done Sam helped Dean up to the second floor where their shared bedroom was. The two beds were lumpy and stiff but they'd do in a pinch.

Sam went to sleep thinking about how bad the fight was going to be when he told his father he was going to college, taking into account how bad the fight about considering it had been. Dean just lay in the dark, his face hurting, his stomach hurting, his ribs hurting, and his heart feeling like it was slowly being broken by his brother.

[Hope you like some more angst! Got way more from where this is coming from! Review!]