CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

CHAPTER 9

I had woken before Sammy the next morning. I decided to look through the media on his laptop while he slept. "Mornin' Sammy" I said as he began to move around and eventually stretch himself to a seated position. "Sleep good?" I asked.

"Dean, what are you doing?" he asked confused and surprised to see me up and out of bed.

"I'm looking to see if there's anything interesting going on in the world." I said, knowing I was really looking to see if there was anything we could hunt nearby. Sammy knew it too.

"There's not." he said as he walked to the bathroom to do his morning business. As he came out of the bathroom to gather his clothes and personal items to ready himself for another day he said, with a hint of annoyance, "you're up awful early, and seem to be in a good mood this morning".

I just nodded my head without removing my eyes from the computer screen. "Go get cleaned up, Sammy, and we'll go grab us some breakfast, I'm hungry." I knew that's exactly what his plans were already, so there really wasn't any need to announce it.

Once Sammy had finished prepping in front of the mirror we walked to the diner for some food.

"How long have we been here Sammy?" Not giving him time to answer I continued, "we haven't even taken notice of this little town we've been staying in. I visited the local bar while you slept last night. The girls, shewww, the girls in this town!" I didn't have to finish my sentence; the wiggle of my eyebrows gave Sam all the information he needed to know. "It's been awhile since Baby got to see some action."

I finished as we opened the door to the diner. We sat in a corner booth, I ordered enough food for two and Sammy had his regular healthy choice breakfast. No wonder that kid is so skinny, he doesn't eat the good stuff, I thought to myself as I gobbled down my food, feeling like I haven't eaten in a week.

After we finished eating, and I had finished flirting with the waitress, we walked back to the room that had brought so much darkness down on me. This time as I walked in, I didn't feel the heaviness that had restrained me for so many days. Sam, on the other hand, he didn't have to speak a word, his actions were enough to kill any good buzz I still had going on.

"Damn it, Sammy," I said a little angrier than I meant to "you're enough to kill anyone's good mood". Okay, that did not come out the way I wanted I thought to myself as Sammy glared up at me with anger in his eyes.

"I'm soooo sorry Dean! I'm sorry I don't know how to go from here" he placed his hand as low to the ground as he could, "to here," raising his hand up as high as he could reach, "in 5.2 seconds." Yeah okay, I admit I had a huge change in personality over the night, but I thought that was a good thing. "I guess I didn't get that lesson from Dad." Sam added.

Why? Why did he have to start this when I was feeling so good? "What lesson is that?" I asked with a sigh as I sat on the edge of the bed, expecting this to turn into one of his chick flick moments. As he picked up a bottle of booze I had finished off last night to dispose of it in the trash, he shook it in front of me with a sarcastic look on his face.

"This lesson." he said. "The lesson that anytime you feel any type of feelings at all, the moment you think you just might be human, you drink it all away. The lesson that you have to pretend to be invincible, emotionless."

Here we go, it was way too early for this crap but I guess I had put him through enough lately that I at least owed him this conversation. "Yeah," I agreed, "the best lesson he could have taught me." I added. "Sammy, you have to understand, it's not that I don't know I have feelings, it's not that I'm trying to pretend I'm not human. It's just that, well, if you let your emotions get the best of you, like I have the past, what week or so? In this job, the work we do, that can get you killed."

I paused, hoping he understood, but knowing it wasn't enough to satisfy him. I closed my eyes for a long blink accompanied by a sigh, "yeah, Dad didn't like to admit he had feelings, maybe that's why he was so hard on us? Because, if he showed us any love at all then that would be showing feeling. I don't know Sam. I know Dad had a hard time facing things in life, dealing with everything. Plus, we weren't exactly model kids, you know? We got into our own mischief, created our own problems for ourselves, and dad. It's not like there was an instruction booklet on how to live the life of a hunter with 2 small boys."

I pulled my hand up and wiped it down my face, stopping it over my mouth as I took a moment to think of the right words to say. "Do you know when I had my first drink?"

"No."

"When I was 10 years old. I'm sure Dad was drunk, but he was also lonely, and sad. You went to bed, sound asleep, you never had any problem sleeping through anything," I chuckled a little as I remembered how jealous I would be that he could sleep so well. "Dad was sitting at the table with a large bottle of whiskey" I continued. "He told me to come sit down with him, so of course, I did. He poured me a glass of whiskey and told me to 'drink up'. Honestly, I wasn't sure if he was serious or not, but who was I to question one of Dad's commands? So, I did. And we sat there half the night while he talked about some of the horrors he had seen and the things he had to do that haunted him. He talked about how much he wished we could all go back to life before Mom died. He cried, yes he actually cried, Sammy, telling me how much he missed her, how much he wanted her back."

I stopped for a moment to wipe my eyes before the tears filling them slipped out. "He kept filling my glass every time he would fill his. He told me that was how he could stay so strong, to stay alive, no matter what he faced. He told me a good bottle of whiskey would fix anything, even a broken heart. He also told me to never, no matter what I did, ever allow my emotions to get the best of me. That I needed to just push everything I ever felt away, that if I didn't I would end up getting myself killed."

I was done, I couldn't talk about that anymore. I had hoped that Sammy understood a little better now. That maybe in some weird way he wouldn't get so upset at me when I drank to drown my sorrows. Once I had regained my composure I looked up at Sam. His eyes watered up but not yet falling. His eyebrows wrinkled up. His lips held tightly closed. I wasn't sure what was going through that kid's mind, but it couldn't be good. Maybe he was just processing what I had just said? Maybe I just avoided some school girl chick flick moment? But, he had never been this quiet for this long before. Great! I thought to myself. We are just going to end up in another conversation I don't want to have. Damn, I need a drink.

"What Sammy?" I finally broke the silence. I moved my body so I was in a more comfortable position with the wall supporting my back. I knew we were going to be here awhile.

"I hated Dad drinking," Sam said quietly, "honestly, sometimes when you get as drunk as you do, I get mad." Wow that was a shocker I thought sarcastically to myself, but allowed him to continue, "I don't get mad at you as much as I get mad at myself. I mean, I don't know Dean, I know this is going to sound crazy." He paused.

I tried to lighten the mood "you're my little brother, I already think you're crazy."

I saw a small smirk form on Sam's face before he continued what he was trying to say. "I get scared." He admitted, "I know, crazy, right? I know I haven't seen Dad as drunk as you have. I know I haven't dealt with his violence like you did, but…"

he paused to draw in a long deep breathe. "He's… he has… umm… he came home one night," he finally started to get the words out as he stumbled all over them. "You weren't home, I'm not even sure where you were. Maybe went to the store or something? I know you weren't gone long. Dad came home in one of his drunken, unable to walk straight, states. I guess I didn't do as good of a job as you did by helping him to the bed and taking care of him. I tried, Dean. I knew he was strong, but I didn't realize how hard of a punch that man had."

He paused as he could see my face turn red with anger. "Dean, please, don't get mad, okay?"

I drew in a long breath and allowed him to continue.

"He punched me on the side of my head. I fell to the ground, he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me back to a standing position. I didn't even realize I was crying but he started to yell at me, telling me to stop crying. That he taught me better than that. Then, he slapped me across the face as he released his grip, letting me fall on the bed beside me. It only took him a moment to realize what he had done. He began to apologize and begged me not to tell you. 'Don't tell your brother, please Sam, it won't happen again, I promise' he begged. So, I agreed, until now I guess."

He sat with his head hung low, he added "sometimes I get scared when you drink the way you do, I know I'm not a little kid anymore, but those memories come up and there's times I just wait for that part of Dad to come out. You're so much like him I often wonder when you'll follow in his footsteps in that way too." He sadly admitted.

I was speechless, absolutely speechless! "I… I will NEVER… Sam, Dad was a bastard." I couldn't believe I had just called my own dad a bastard. "He was hateful at times, but he also loved us, you have to know that, he did. No matter what bad things he may have done, he still loved us."

Great! Here comes the water works, I shook my head, tired of all the tears, where did they all come from anyhow? I chuckled a little as I sat and thought then admitted, "he did carry one hell of a punch." I was a little irritated that Sam hadn't told me about that night before, but then again there's a lot I haven't told him.

After sitting in the silence, both of us thinking of what to say next, Sam got his nerves built up enough to ask me the one thing I had tried to avoid talking about. The one thing I didn't want anyone knowing about. The one thing that could push me past my breaking point.

"What happened the night I left for college?"

God, why did he have to ask this again? Didn't he catch the hint when I told him I didn't want to talk about it before? I wasn't sure how to answer that. I wasn't sure if I should answer that.

"Sam," I said slow, careful to make sure he understood what I was saying, "you have to understand, nothing that happened… the way Dad reacted to you leaving… none of it was your fault."

I paused, hoping he really did understand that. "I know life on the road can be hard" I continued, "I don't blame you at all for wanting to get away. I didn't blame you that night either. Honestly, I was a little shocked, but I could understand, that's why I didn't try to stop you." I paused to wipe my eyes, once again.

"So, what happened?"

"He went on a drinking binge" I said. God, I had hoped that would have been good enough, but I knew Sammy, and I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with that answer.

"And?"

"And… he got drunk,"

"DEAN!"

"Sam, I don't know if I can do this." I said in all honesty. "I'm not sure what to say here."

"How about the truth?"

"Okay," I said hesitantly, "the truth is he did go on a drinking binge. I don't know how long he was gone, I don't know how much he drunk, I don't even know how much it costed. Doesn't matter. He didn't pay for it anyhow."

I hadn't realized while I was talking I had pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my arms across my knees, laying my head on my arms. Almost as if I was trying to become invisible. I just wanted to shrink away and disappear. But I needed to say this, or at least try to say it, as much as Sam needed to hear it.

"What do you mean he didn't pay for it?"

"He didn't pay for it," I said, a little anger in my voice, anger I didn't know was there, "I did! I did, Sammy, okay? I paid for Dad's drunken night!" I

had to stop talking before I really did get upset. I thought I was "over it" I didn't think it would bother me as much as it was. And this anger, where did this anger come from? God, I needed a drink, bad!

"I can't Sammy, I'm sorry, I can't. I need a drink"

I said as I pushed myself out of the fetal position and onto my feet. Why did I have to glance over at my brother? His sad, puppy dog eyes, filled with watering tears. He knew I was hurting. My hurting was making him hurt. I would do anything to make him feel better. Anything. I sighed as I sat back on the bed.

"How about we walk to the liquor store together?" Sam said. I was shocked that he had suggested that, especially after he had talked about how much he hated me drinking. "I could use a beer myself" he said. I smirked, that's my brother I thought. "But," Sam added, only to get some fresh air and clear our heads, don't for once think this conversation is over."

"Whatever, Sammy" I said nudging my shoulder against his. I knew he was right, it wasn't over, we obviously had a lot to talk about, but for this moment I was going to enjoy the company of my little brother, just the way it's always been.