Watch Out For Sammy
Chapter 37
Here Without You
The next morning, Dean woke up and immediately left the room to see if his dad had come home while they were asleep. He didn't even realize it, but he was holding his breath the whole time he looked through the small house. When he finished his search, he let out the breath he was holding in one long sigh. His dad was still nowhere to be found and Dean was getting more worried by the second.
John hadn't ever been gone for so long before without any form of communication and Dean knew that he should call Pastor Jim or Uncle Bobby. He also knew that if he did that it meant that he and Sam would have to uproot again. And Dean was tired of uprooting. He was tired of always being on the move. He was tired of having to try to explain to his brother why they were moving yet again without giving him the real reason for it. He was just tired.
So, he made a pact with himself. He decided that if his dad wasn't back by the time they got home from school on Monday, he'd make that phone call. He'd call Pastor Jim or Uncle Bobby and tell them what was going on. And he'd prepare himself for the emotional fallout of making that call. Sam would be upset. And his dad would probably be upset, too, when he showed up and realized what Dean had done.
But, he didn't really have a choice, did he? They were almost out of food and the last thing they needed was for someone at school to realize that neither he nor Sam had an adequate lunch to eat. And not only that, but Dean really didn't want his brother to go hungry. Sam didn't deserve that. He was glad that it was Saturday because he didn't want to send Sam off to school without having anything to pack him for lunch. And with it being Saturday, that gave him two whole days to come up with a plan. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew he had to do something.
As he looked out the window for the tenth time since he'd been up, Dean made a decision. He knew that his brother was going to be hungry when he woke up and he knew that there was very little of anything left in the small kitchen. He also knew that he really didn't have two days to come up with a plan. He had to do something before Sam woke up. He had to find a way to either get some money or get some food. And he had to do it now.
Dean closed the door quietly behind him, making sure that it was locked. He hated leaving Sam by himself, but he couldn't do what he was about to do with Sam tagging along. Once he was reasonably sure that Sam was as safe as he could be, Dean started walking towards the little grocery store at the end of the road they were on. It was only about a half a mile from their house and Dean nearly ran all the way. He didn't want to be gone from Sam any longer than he absolutely had to.
While he was running, he tried to come up with another plan, but he couldn't. He knew that what he was thinking of doing was wrong and he hated the idea of Pastor Jim or Bobby finding out, but he really didn't feel like he had much of a choice. Sam needed food. And that was way more important than the guilt he felt for what he was about to do.
Dean didn't like the idea of stealing, but he'd do it if he had to. For Sammy.
The bell on the door clanged noisily when Dean pushed the door open. The man behind the counter looked over at him and gave him a small wave. Dean and Sam had been in the store several times before and Dean had even talked to the man a few times. He thought the man was really nice and the thought of stealing from him turned his stomach a little. He vowed to himself that he'd pay the man back some day. He didn't know how or when, but he'd keep his word somehow.
Putting his left hand in the pocket of his jeans, Dean fiddled with a dollar bill and several coins. All he had left of the money his dad had left for them was $1.45. Dean knew that wasn't going to buy him much of anything, but at least he'd be able to act like he was a paying customer. Stepping over to the bread aisle, he picked up the cheapest loaf of bread he could find, which was only ten cents less than the money he had in his pocket. Without looking too suspicious, he moved over to where the peanut butter was. He pretended to look at several different brands, reading the labels on the back as if he were comparing the nutritional value or something, while slowly grabbing a small container from the bottom shelf and sticking it in his jacket pocket. He felt like he was going to be sick, but he made himself take several deep breaths before moving onto the next aisle.
He had just made it to the shelf of soups when he heard the door to the store open. He looked up at the man behind the counter and when he realized that the man's attention was now on whoever had come into the store, Dean grabbed several cans of soup and stuffed them up his jacket sleeve. He knew he'd have to be really careful when he was paying for the bread, because the last thing he needed was for the cans of soup to slide down or fall out of his sleeve.
Feeling like his luck was about to run out, Dean headed towards the counter with the loaf of bread in his hand, ready to pay and get out of there. He couldn't bring himself to look the man in the face, so he kept his eyes on the counter instead.
"Good morning," the man said, smiling widely at Dean. "You're up awfully early on a Saturday. Big plans for the day?"
"Uh…no, sir. My, uh…. my dad just needed me to pick up some bread. He's making French Toast for breakfast."
"Oh, well, good for him. French Toast is one of my favorites. How is that little brother of yours?"
"He's okay. Still sleeping, I think."
"Well, it is a Saturday. Okay, that'll be $1.35."
Dean pulled the money out of his pocket and laid it up on the counter, making sure to keep his right arm down at his side. The man took the money, leaving a dime on the counter. "Do you need a bag for that?" he asked.
"No, sir."
The man pushed the bread back to Dean and then reached over the counter. He grabbed two candy bars from the display rack and handed them to Dean. "Here you go. Here's a treat for you and your brother."
"I-I don't have any more money to pay for that," Dean stuttered.
"It's on me. Kids deserve a treat every now and then, don't you think?"
Dean felt guilty, knowing that he didn't deserve any kind of treat at all, but he didn't argue with the man. He could just imagine the look on Sam's face when he handed him a candy bar. So, not wanting to insult the man or screw up a chance to put a smile on Sam's face, Dean did the only thing he could.
"Thank you, sir," he said as he reached down and picked up the two candy bars.
"You're welcome, kid. Have a nice Saturday, okay?"
"You, too," Dean replied as he made his way to the door. Once he was outside of the store, he let out a deep breath and wiped the fine sheet of sweat off his forehead. He was consumed with guilt, but his need to take care of his little brother overrode anything else he felt. Without another thought as to what he'd just done, Dean turned and started walking back home. He had been gone longer than he wanted to be and he really hoped that Sam was still asleep.
Almost an hour after Dean woke up, Sam sat up in the bed. He was surprised to see that Dean was already up since he knew his brother usually liked to sleep in on Saturdays. Sam climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs, eager to find his brother and get some breakfast. But, Dean wasn't anywhere around. Sam checked the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and finally their dad's room, but still couldn't find his brother.
"Dean? Where are you? Dean!" Sam yelled at the top of his lungs as he tried not to let panic overwhelm him. It wasn't normal for Dean to be gone like that.
Sam was on his second circuit through the house when he heard the front door open. Running towards the door, he skidded to a stop when he saw Dean walking through it. "Dean! Where were you?!"
Dean looked surprised to see Sam looking so scared. "Sam, why are you already up? It's barely nine o'clock!"
"Where were you?! I woke up and you were gone, Dean! I thought the bad man came and got you again."
Dean felt guilty that Sam was so scared. "I, uh…. I was just outside, Sammy."
"What were you doing?"
"I was, um…. I was just… you know, just getting some fresh air. That's all."
Sam didn't look convinced, especially when he noticed the loaf of bread in Dean's hand, but he didn't question him any further. Instead, the loud grumbling of his stomach steered him in a different direction. "I'm hungry, Dean. Can I have some breakfast?"
Dean made his way into the kitchen to unload his haul, hoping that Sam wasn't going to throw a fit when he found out they were just going to eat toast. Sam always liked to eat cereal for breakfast, but they had used the last of the mild the night before.
Dean stepped over to the toaster and plugged it in. He grabbed three pieces of bread and fed them into the toaster, making sure it was set to the lightest toasting setting. He preferred his toast a little darker, but Sam only liked his barely toasted at all.
Once the bread popped back up, Dean set two slices on a plate and placed it in front of his brother.
"I want cereal, Dean," Sam said instantly.
"We're out of milk, Sam. You're gonna have to eat some toast."
"But, I don't want toast. I want cereal."
Dean rolled his eyes at his little brother. "Well, you can have cereal if you want, but it's gonna be dry cereal."'
"I don't like dry cereal, Dean. That's gross."
"Sammy, we don't have any milk, so it's either dry cereal or toast. You choose."
Sam grabbed the plate of toast and pulled it to him. "Where's the jelly?"
"We don't have any," Dean answered, knowing that Sam wasn't going to be happy about that, either.
"Dean," Sam whined. "I don't like dry toast!"
"I'm sorry, Sam. I used the last of the jelly on Thursday when I made your lunch. You can have some peanut butter on your toast." Dean pulled the peanut butter out of his pocket and put it on the table.
"Why do you have the peanut butter in your pocket?" Sam asked as he looked at his brother suspiciously.
"Don't worry about it, Sam. Just eat, okay?"
Sam grabbed the peanut butter and spent several seconds trying to open it before Dean grabbed it from him. Once he opened it, Dean scooped out some with a knife and then spread it on Sam's toast. He knew his little brother liked a lot of peanut butter, but he only lightly spread it, knowing that they needed to conserve it for now.
Once he was done, Sam picked up a piece of toast and started eating it. He was almost halfway through with this first piece when he stopped, swallowed, and looked up at Dean.
"I'm thirsty," he said, his voice thick with the peanut butter.
Dean got up from the table and grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard. He started to fill them up with water when Sam interrupted him.
"I don't want water, Dean. I want juice."
"We don't have any juice, Sam. You drank the last of it yesterday."
"Can we go to the store and get some more?" Sam asked hopefully. "And some milk, too?"
"Maybe later," Dean answered, knowing there was no way he could steal milk or juice without getting caught. He'd have to come up with another plan, but for now he was just tired. "C'mon, Sammy. Can't you just drink water for now?"
"The water tastes funny here," Sam whined. "It makes my mouth feel funny, too."
Dean knew what Sam was talking about, because he thought the same thing. He was pretty sure the pipes in the old house were rusty, making the water taste bad, but he couldn't do anything about it. "It won't hurt you, Sam. Just drink it, okay?"
Sam slumped back into his chair, knowing that he wasn't going to get anything any different than what was already in front of him. "This sucks," he said as he took a bite of his toast.
Dean couldn't argue with his little brother on that one.
The rest of the weekend dragged on, thanks to Sam's constant complaining and Dean's shortened temper. By Sunday night, Sam wasn't even talking to his brother and Dean wasn't upset about that at all. He knew that Sam didn't have any idea of the seriousness of the situation they were in, so he really couldn't blame the kid for acting like a normal kid would act. In fact, he wanted to be able to protect Sam from the reality of their situation, if he could.
After a quick dinner of chicken noodle soup and toast, Dean sent Sam into the bathroom to take a bath. He hadn't eaten much himself over the weekend in an effort to conserve what was left of their food and he had a pounding headache. In fact, his head hurt so much that he almost gave in and called for help.
But, he didn't.
Instead, he rummaged around in the first aid kit until he found a few Tylenol tablets. He wasn't sure how many he should take, so he just took two of them, washing them down with a few sips of the nasty-tasting water. After getting the pills down, Dean sat down on the couch and pulled his backpack to him. He knew he had a test coming up on the Civil War and he knew he would fail it if he didn't do a little bit of studying. Opening the book, he tried to concentrate on the words before him, but he couldn't. His mind kept wandering to the fact that his dad had been gone for almost ten days, that he hadn't heard a single word from the man. Dean was really worried that something had happened to his dad and he really didn't know what to do.
He sat there for a long time, thinking about what was going to happen the next afternoon if John still hadn't shown up by then. Once Sam was out of the bathroom, Dean settled him onto the couch next to him, turning the TV on so Sam could watch America's Funniest Home Videos. Before too long, Sam was laughing hysterically and Dean found himself occasionally joining in.
Once nine o'clock rolled around, Dean shut off the TV and led Sam into their bedroom. It only took a few minutes to get Sam settled and only a few minutes more before he was fast asleep. Dean wanted to spend a little more time reading his history book, but he decided that his head was hurting way too much to be reading anything. He climbed into bed next to Sam and turned off the lamp on the table next to him. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.
Dean hated Mondays with a passion. Usually because they followed a boring, dismal weekend where once again, he and Sam were holed up inside somewhere, bored to death, while other kids were out having adventures and fun. He also hated Mondays because it was the beginning of the week and so far away from another glorious weekend. Dean knew that didn't make any sense, but his head was still hurting too much to figure out what he was trying to say.
Once he dropped Sam off at his classroom, Dean scurried to his own classroom, hoping to make it before the bell rang. He had just slid through the door when the bell rang.
"Cutting it a little close there, Dean," Mr. Daniels said with a frown.
"Sorry," Dean mumbled as he took his seat.
Mr. Daniels kept his eye on him for several seconds before turning back to the class. "Okay, everyone get out a pen or pencil. All other books and things are to be put away. This test is worth twenty-five percent of your grade, so I hope you all studied."
Dean inwardly groaned at the thought that the test was worth so much. He was barely hanging on with a C in the class, so if he bombed this test, he was in big trouble.
And he knew he was going to bomb it for sure.
Taking a pencil out of his backpack, Dean sat back and waited for the test to be handed out. Once he got his copy, he leaned over and started to read, his heart falling with every question he read. Yeah, he was for surely going to bomb this test.
Halfway through the class period, Dean's eyes started to blur. He put his pencil down and started rubbing his eyes, even though he knew that probably wasn't going to help. Looking around the room, he watched as everyone else was frantically writing out their answers.
"Dean, keep your eyes on your own paper," Mr. Daniels scolded.
Dean's eyes jerked over to land on his teacher at the sound of his name being called, but it took him a few long seconds to realize that he thought he was cheating. Without a word, he let his eyes drop back to his own paper, not wanting to give Mr. Daniels any ammunition to use against him. Although, he usually got along okay with his teacher, he knew that the man was a no-nonsense kind of guy, who expected you to do what was expected of you.
By the time the recess bell rang, Dean's head was pounding relentlessly and his stomach was growling loudly. He wouldn't be surprised if the two things weren't connected, since he'd had very little to eat over the last few days. He was just about out the door when Mr. Daniels called out for him to remain behind. Dean hated not being out on the playground when Sam was out there, but he knew he didn't have a choice but to stay put.
Once the room was empty, Mr. Daniels walked over to where Dean was standing. He looked Dean over from head to toe and Dean found himself feeling self-conscious.
"How are you, Dean? Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, sir," Dean immediately answered. He could feel his hands shaking, so he stuffed them in his pocket.
"Are you sure? Because you look awfully pale, Dean. And you look like you might be hurting or something."
Dean knew he wasn't going to get out this easily. "I just have a headache, I guess," he finally answered.
"Oh? Do you need to go to the nurse? Or do you want me to call your parents and have one of them come and pick you up?"
"I'll be fine," Dean answered quickly.
Mr. Daniels looked him over again before making up his mind. "Well, if you change your mind, just let me know, okay?"
"Yes, sir." Dean didn't wait for his teacher to dismiss him. Instead, he turned and walked out of the room as quickly as he could, anxious to check up on his brother. He could breathe a little easier when he saw the mop of hair that belonged to his brother climbing up on the jungle gym. He watched Sam like a hawk, wishing that he would get off the jungle gym and play on something a little less dangerous.
Eventually, his eyes wandered over to where some of the kids in the grade above him were playing some kind of game. Dean checked on Sam before turning his attention back to the game. He was surprised when he saw money being exchanged between the two players at the end of the game, but he rapidly realized what an opportunity was being presented to him. This was his chance to earn some money.
Dean watched the boys playing their game for the whole recess, turning back to the playground to check on Sam occasionally. It didn't take long for him to figure out the game and to figure out just how one of the kids kept winning, and he suddenly knew that he had to play.
Moving closer to the bench, he sidled his way up to the front of the group. He watched the boy play and win a few more hands before finally stepping forward.
"How do you play this game?" he asked innocently.
'It's easy," the boy answered. "Do you know how to play poker? Because it's basically just a different kind of poker."
"I kinda know how to," Dean answered, trying to sound like he didn't really know.
"Let's play a hand, then," the boy said.
"I-I can't. I don't have any money."
"Don't worry about that. You don't need money in the beginning. I'll spot you at first."
Dean leaned into the table and watched as the boy shuffled the cards like a pro.
"Where did you learn to do that?" Dean asked.
"My mom and dad both worked in a casino. They taught me."
Dean watched as the boy dealt the cards, wishing that he could be smooth like that. But, being smooth and being smart were two different things and it only took Dean about four hands to figure out what was going on. Another two hands and he was suddenly winning, much to the disgust of the kid who had been winning against everyone else.
Dean knew he should play it a little safer, so he let the kid win a few hands here and there, hoping not to raise suspicions. Eventually, though, he decided it was time to make his move. With only a few minutes left in the recess, Dean suddenly started winning every hand.
This, of course, didn't sit well with the kid, who was suddenly losing all the money he had made. He eyed Dean suspiciously.
Dean had just won the last hand when the bell rang, signally the end of the recess. Dean grabbed all the money off the table and started stuffing it into his pockets, eager to get away with his winnings. However, he didn't expect the kid to lose it. Just as he was about to turn and check on Sam, the kid stood up and parked himself right in front of him.
"I don't know how you cheated, but I want my money back," the kid said angrily. "All of it!"
"Hey, I won it fair and square. I'm not giving it back."
"Yes, you are! Now give it here before I take it from you."
Dean, whose head was still pounding significantly, laughed. "I'd like to see you try."
Dean didn't really expect what happened next. He had just turned back to check on Sam when he was violently shoved from behind. Dean flew forward, landing on his hands and knees, his mind trying to catch up with what was going on. He could feel the small pebbles on the concrete digging into the palm of his hands and into his knees, but before he could even register the pain from it, he was kicked in the side.
With a loud groan, Dean flopped over onto his back and looked up into the eyes of his attacker. He tried to pull himself up, but another vicious kick landed, this time hitting him square in the ribs.
Suddenly, Dean had had enough. Without another thought, he jumped to his feet and threw himself into the kid, knocking them both to the ground. The kid was a little bit bigger than him, but Dean was better trained in the fine art of fighting, and it didn't take long for him to gain the upper hand. Seconds later, though, there were punches being thrown left and right, by both of them. Dean was a little surprised at the number of punches the kid actually landed, not that he was anywhere near as good as Dean himself was, but still….
By this time, a large crowd of students were surrounding them and Dean wondered why it was taking so long for a teacher to show up. He really wanted someone to break the fight up because the longer it took, the more time passed that he didn't get to check up on Sam. And that was not okay.
He had taken another punch to the gut and to the face when two adults finally showed up. Dean landed one more hard punch to the kid's nose, too, but then they were both pulled off of each other.
"What's going on here?" Mr. Daniels roared as he held onto Dean. The other teacher, Mr. Simmons, was holding onto the other kid tightly.
When neither one of the boys answered, Mr. Daniels looked over at the other teacher before turning his attention back onto Dean. "Let's go, Dean."
Dean allowed himself to be pulled back to the building, offering no resistance at all in the process. He knew he was in trouble, but the only thing he cared about was protecting the money that was currently in his possession. He hoped they didn't try to take the money away from him.
Once they were inside the school office, they were led to the principal's office and were told to sit on the bench outside. Dean tried to keep as much distance as he could between himself and the kid who was still desperately wanting his money back.
They were just about to get into it again when the door to the principal's office opened and they were called into the office. Dean stood up and walked into the office, trying to figure out how he was going to get out of the mess he was in.
Almost fifteen minutes later, Principal Nichols was no closer to getting answers than she was at the beginning. "Mr. Winchester, Mr. Clark…. As you know, we do not condone fighting of any kind in this school. I was hoping to try to understand what was going on between you two, but I can see that you're not ready to share that yet. So, I need you to go back out to the bench and sit tight while I call your parents."
Dean's heart flipped at her words, wondering what was going to happen when she couldn't get a hold of his father. He knew that Uncle Bobby and Pastor Jim would be pissed at him for getting into a fight. But, more importantly, they'd be even more pissed when they found out why he had gotten into a fight.
Not knowing what else to do, Dean sat back against the bench and waited.
It was almost lunch time and Dean was pretty sure that his poor stomach was trying to eat itself. He wondered how long they would keep him in the office, waiting for someone… anyone…. to show up for him. Dean didn't know why, but it embarrassed him to think about the fact that he really didn't have anyone.
Dustin Clark's parents had shown up thirty minutes before. Dean watched as the kid's dad gave him an angry look before turning his gaze onto his own son. The mother just seemed worried about her son as she looked him over from head to toe, tsking to herself when she noticed the crookedness of his nose.
Dean stayed on the bench as the Clark family went in to discuss things with the principal. Almost ten minutes later, the door opened and they walked back out. Dean watched as Dustin followed behind his dad, his head hanging down and his face redder than normal. Once they were gone, Dean returned his thoughts to just how hungry he was. He had just about worked up enough courage to go to the front office and ask the secretary if he could go get his lunch when he heard it.
At first, it was just the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Dean didn't realize it at first, but the footsteps were familiar and if he had put a little bit of thought into it, he would have realized whose footsteps they were. But, it wasn't until he heard the booming voice coming from the front office that he realized who had come for him.
"Your office called and left a message for me. Something about my son, Dean. Is he okay? Where is he?"
Dean's stomach started doing crazy flips at the sound of his dad's voice. On one hand, he was so happy to know that his father was okay, that he was finally home. But, on the other hand, he was a little scared to see how his father was going to react to recent events. He knew that the hunt must have been messy because it had taken longer than his dad had planned. And a messy hunt was sure to put his dad in a really, really bad mood.
Author's note: Uh oh, Dean's in a little bit of trouble. Again. Sheesh, that boy just doesn't know how to stay out of trouble, does he?
I just got back from the SPNLV convention and it was awesome. Jared and Jensen were in top form for their panels and for their photo ops. Jensen sang at the Saturday night concert and it was AMAZING! All in all, a great weekend and I can't wait to go to another one.
Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. Review replies are going to be a little late on the last chapter, because I'm still trying to recover from Las Vegas, lol.