STONEWALL; Chapter Ten,

"Today's a winding road

That's taken me to places that I didn't want to go

Today,

In the blink of an eye

I'm holding onto something

And I do not know why,

I try

I tried to read between the lines,

I tried to look in your eyes

I want a simple explanation,

For what I'm feeling inside.

I gotta find a way out

Maybe there's a way out?"

-Thunder; Boys Like Girls

Sam couldn't tell you how long he walked that day, but by the time he actually stopped to look around, it was dark. The sun was just beginning to set and then in the back of his mind he could believe he walked all day without even knowing it. He was sure that he'd see Dean and Bobby anytime soon, telling him to get in the car and come home. But he didn't.

Sam looked down at his watch. 8:39 pm, it read.

'No later than 9 o'clock', Sam remembered his father's note saying.

His mind screamed for him not to go, but his legs already had their mind set on it.

It took a little while, but soon Sam come to the motel. He was staring at if from outside, trying to figure out which way to go. The motel was huge. The biggest motel he'd even seen. It was tall; about four floors and white. There were yellow guarding rails were at the ends of the floors.

Sam began walking. Since he remembered his father told him he was in 4E, he walked up to the fourth floor. By the time he got to the top he was winded. His sides hurt and he could feel his heart pound. But he was sure it wasn't just because of the stair climbing, it was also from the anxiousness he felt from being moments away from seeing his father again.

Standing in front of the door, Sam questioned how much of a good decision this was. Maybe he was making a mistake. But even after all of the horrible things John did to Sam, some how Sam truly felt John wanted to change. That he wanted to be a normal person and fix his relationship with not only Sam but with Dean, too.

Pushing his nerves aside, Sam knocked on the door.

Instantly, the door swung open and John was standing there with a huge smile on his face.

"Sammy!"

John reached out and pulled Sam into a hug. He squeezed him tight.

Sam pushed back, insisting John let him go. Soon, he did.

John stepped back allowing Sam to see inside the dark motel room.

"Come in, son. Come in."

Sam was hesitant. He looked both ways, looking for a reason to turn around and say he had to go. But there was nothing and Sam was afraid of what his father's reaction might be if he told him he didn't want to stay. He heard his father clear his throat and he snapped out of this thought .

"Sam. Come on," John says more sternly.

Sam obeys immediately and steps inside.

John walks past him and further into the motel room. There was one light on and it sat on the side of the bed. It lit the further half of the room. Sam cleared his throat. Briefly, John looked back at him and smiled. As Sam was escorted further into the motel room and he could feel his heart pound faster and faster by the second.

John brought Sam to the furthers part of the room where there was a table and a smaller light in the middle of it but it lit the whole table perfectly. Sam could smell cooking and it smelled really good, but he knew he couldn't make himself eat even if he tried.

"Sit."

Listening to his dad, Sam slides into the seat. John takes the one across from him. Sam leans forward, waiting for John to say something.

"Elbow off the table."

Sam slides his arms off the table and let them fall in his lap.

John has two plates set on the table. One in front of Sam and one in front of him. He clears his throat, catching Sam's attention.

"So," he says, playing with his fork. "How've you been, son?"

Sam felt brain dead. He couldn't talk. All he seen was John playing with the fork, knowing how easily it could be stabbed in his neck. Sam swallowed hard, knowing that John said something abut didn't exactly know what it was. Mentally, Sam kicked himself.

"Huh?" Sam says, still staring at the fork.

John rolled his eyes but did call he could to keep himself under control. Both Sam and John knew how much he hated repeating himself. But he had to keep his cool if he was ever going to get what he wants.

"I said how've you been?"

Sam cleared his throat. "'M good."

"Just good?"

Sam looks away. "I'm fine."

Sitting forward John cranks his neck. "You don't look fine."

"I'm okay," Sam says, annoyance in his voice.

Slowly, John sits back. "Do you have an attitude?"

Sam shakes his head, then licks his lips. "No."

Raising his eyebrows, Johns stands. "No what?"

"No, sir."

John reaches down and pets the side of Sam's hair. "Good boy."

Sam felt himself shiver as he tried not to jump out of his skin when John touched him. Slowly John walked away and over to the kitchen area of the motel. Quickly, Sam's eyes darted to the door. It seemed so far. And he sure as hell couldn't run. Not now, that is. But there is time for a breakaway. But what if John catches him before he gets out the door? He'll really be in trouble then. Sam found it safer to stay where he was.

Soon enough, John comes back to the table. He sit's a cheeseburger and fries in front of Sam and then slides into his seat with his plate.

Almost instantly Sam pushes it away.

Looking over the light that in the center of the table John points to Sam's plate.

"Eat it."

Sam doesn't know what to say. He's not hungry.

"Dad-"

"Sam," John says taking a bite out of his burger. "I made this for you. Do not disrespect me. Do you understand?"

Sam closed his eyes for a second, trying to stay calm.

He nodded as he picked up a French fry and put it to his lips. He noticed his father eyeing him, waiting for him to take a bite, so he did. Once he did, John smiled and turned his attention back to his plate.

"How's Dean?"

Sam swallows the small bite off his French fry. "He's alright," Sam says back in a small voice. Little by little he was regretting even leaving the house at all.

John nodded. "And Bobby?"

"He's alright," Sam repeated.

John sat up.

"Is that all you can say?" he asks in a harsh tone.

Sam feels his stomach drop. Pulling himself together he shakes his head.

"N-no."

John cracked his back, trying to ease himself.

"Sam," he says. Sam looks up at him. "Tell me. How have you been feeling lately?"

Didn't he ask that already?

Sam plays with the French fries on his plate. "I'm getting better."

John smiles. He takes another bite out of his cheeseburger.

"You know I was so scared when I heard you were taken to the hospital."

Sam doesn't say anything.

"And when I heard you'd been in a car accident…" John shakes his head for dramatic effect. "I- I just didn't know what I'd do if I'd lost you, Sam. I need you to know that."

Still, Sam stays quiet.

"And then when I finally seen you. They way you looked. So pale. So sick. So hurt," John tapped the end of his fork on the table even though he wasn't using it, nor did he need it. "Right then is when I realized that you and Dean are all I have left. And that there's no way that I'm going to lose you. Either of you."

John watches Sam. He's still playing with is food. It didn't even look like he acknowledged John's little speech.

John got angry.

"Goddamn it, Sam!"

With one clean sweep, John pushed what was in front of him onto the floor. It made a loud bang. Sam's breath caught in his throat as the dishes and the light fall to the floor. He jumps in his seat. With his eyes big, he looks at the mess on the floor then at his father.

John's breathing heavy now, and staring at Sam like he's out for blood. Slowly, Sam stands.

"You're mad at me," he says softly. He stands. "I'll go."

Sam tried to make his way to the door but he only got a few steps.

John took hold of his arm and pulled him back with more force than he needed to. Sam stood in front of John. He grabbed the ends of his shirt.

"Stay."

Sam gulped.

Pointing to the door, Sam slowly shakes his head. "It's getting late, Dad. Dean's-"

"Dean needs to minds his own business," John cuts in.

Sam wasn't sure how to answer to that. He pulls back, trying to get John to let go of his shirt.

"I need to go home," Sam informs John, he can feel his heart begin to race when he seen the face his father made.

John stood, pushing Sam back. For a second, Sam lost his footing and almost fell to the ground, but he kept his balance and stayed on his feet.

Seeing the gap in space as the perfect getaway, Sam darted for the door. Just as his hand came down on the cool metal, John snatched his hand away.

Sam held his breath.

John slid between Sam and the door, and took the door knob in his hands.

"What're you-" Sam began, but John put his hand up to silence him.

Shaking his head, John smiles. "You don't get it, do you?"

Sam just looked at him, not answering.

Then, Sam heard the sound of John locking the door.

"You're not leaving, Sam. I want you right here."

Uh oh. That's not good. What will Sam do now? What will John do to Sam? Where the hell is Dean when you need him?

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