Author's Chapter Notes:

Hi

Sam's leaving chapter. This chapter played me up. I couldn't get it to be what I really wanted it to be, so this is a close as it would go! Does that make sense?

Sorry for the delays and for the fact that I have been very bad and haven't replied to any of your reviews. There are family things ongoing at the mo and I barely get time to sleep let alone write!

Hope you like.

If You Love Somebody, Set Them Free

John looked in the windows of the Impala, at his two boys curled up and sleeping, and a sudden wave of emotion hit him so hard that he had to lean on the car to steady himself. For a brief instant his mind didn't see the grown men that they were now, it only saw the little boys that they had been, might always be in his head. His children to protect and love in his own screwed way and in his own screwed up version of the world and the words.

He thought of how many times they had spent their evenings this way, wedged uncomfortably into the only space that they'd ever got to call home and the little pang of guilt that never quite went away reached up and squeeze at his throat.

Even the slight dip of the car his father's weight on it caused had jerked Dean to consciousness in the front seat, and John watched as his son's hand slipped under the jacket, muscles flexing as he gripped what John had no doubts was a gun. Green eyes calmed and he relaxed again when he saw who it was that was standing against the glass. Holding his hands up as a sorry the older Winchester watched as his other son unfolded himself as well in the rear of the car, scrubbing at his eyes before pushing open the back door and almost falling out into the dirt. Dean was a little more graceful and co-ordinated than his brother as he exited the car but then John doubted that his eldest son had ever truly been asleep.

"So what's wrong with her?" John watched as Bobby walked up behind his son, annoyance building irrationally as the other hunter placed a fatherly touch to his son's shoulder and grinned at Dean. "Didn't your daddy and I teach you well enough how to fix her up?"

John had always been grateful for Bobby's help with the boys, acknowledged or not, but he couldn't help the flare of jealousy that ran through him every time that he witnessed the easy camaraderie that existed between his son and his friend. No barriers of blood or duty of care standing between them.

"If I knew what was wrong with her old man, we'd be having this conversation in your house, probably over breakfast." Dean smirked as he walked round and pulled the hood open again. "I can't find anything obvious."

John moved to stand beside them and he held out his hand for the keys. "I'll try and turn her over again."

Sam snorted at Dean's expression as John took the keys and eased in behind the wheel. He watched as his father ran his hand loving round the worn leather and then leant forward, turning the key and putting pressure on the gas pedal. She didn't catch. John shifted position, checking the dials and a slow smile spread on his face that Sam wasn't quite sure that he liked.

"What?," he questioned his father. "Did you find something?"

"Might have."

Two heads appeared in unison from behind the hood, one with an interested quirked eyebrow and the other with a look of suspicion ingrained on his features. John walked back between the older hunter and his eldest and rested his backside on the grill. "So you checked everything?"

The smile had morphed into something bigger and it was directly solely at his elder son.

"Of course I did." Dean bristled at the accusation in his father's voice.

"And you couldn't find anything obvious?" A little alarm bell started to ring in Dean's head as he realised what his father was hinting at, something that he himself had forgotten all about.

John looked away from his son and turned his attention to the man still leaning at his side. "D'you get that part yet that Dean asked you for?"

"You know that it's on order….." Bobby's voice trailed off as he turned to look at Dean. "Son, tell me that you didn't just drag my ass over here for what he thinks you dragged it over here for?"

A slow blush crept across Dean's face. Taking the keys from John's outstretched hand he moved round and eased himself into the driver's seat, knowing what he was going to find before he even slide the key home into the ignition. Turning it a notch he sighed and rested his head on the smooth leather of the wheel. "Son-of-a-bitch!" He turned to stare at his brother, anger burning in his eyes that Sam took the wrong way.

"Oh no. I tried it. She wouldn't start. You are not blaming me for your car being a temperamental bitch." Sam sprung to his own defence.

"You want to walk back to Bobby's?" Dean growled at him.

"I'm not riding with you if you're gonna bitch and blame me for the car breaking down all the way there!" Sam shot back at him.

His older brother ran his hand slowly over his face.

"I ain't angry at you. It's me that's the friggin' idiot. I was so tired when we swapped I forgot to tell you. Fuel gauge is stuck, it gets to a quarter and then it won't drop any lower. I noticed it just after that hunt with the cat. I called Bobby, cause I knew we were heading that way and he's got a replacement one on order from a friend of his for me."

Sam bit his lip and tried not to laugh. "You mean we spent all night in the car, called Bobby to come get us and the problem was we were out of gas? How did you not remember that when you were trying to fix her?"

"I've got a lot on my mind, ok? Besides I was under the hood, if I'd have sat in the seat I'd a remembered," Dean snapped back before sighing and hauling his backside out of the car and walked round to close the hood. "It's not funny," he addressed Bobby whilst trying to ignore that the man was grinning at him like a loon.

John's eyes, while hiding a little twinkle of amusement were set in a dark face. "Good job you guys weren't on a hunt and needed out in a hurry then eh?"

Sam felt his brother tense beside him at the words and put a calming hand on Dean's arm, turning him round. "It's ok, I understand, you're getting old, senility's a bitch."

He quickly sidestepped the swipe of his brother's arm that was heading his way. "Reflexes are a little slow there too big brother," he teased as he rounded the car and stopped next to John, his back to his sibling. His face changed as he addressed his father. "You know that if we'd have been hunting it would never have happened." He kept his voice low as he reached for the gas can that Bobby was now holding, glaring as his father ignored him and turned to follow Dean back to the car.

One look at the two faces of the older men in front of him and Dean had gone to seek refuge in the car, knowing that he was only delaying them torturing him over this but not really feeling like being the butt of their jokes at the moment. He was still too mad at himself for that. Bobby would be alright about it, but Dean knew that he would be in for a lecture at some point from his father. What the hell, wasn't like it was the first time that he'd screwed up, he was sure it wouldn't be the last either but he knew that if they hadn't just been driving to Bobby's, if this really had been a hunt, then John wouldn't be half as calm as he was.

"We'll follow you guys out, don't want any other mishaps happening behind us." John's voice tore him from his thoughts. His father was standing right next to the door of the car and he lent down to talk, patting the metal as he did. "This isn't like you Dean. Something as simple as that." He turned his head and looked pointedly at Sam before swinging back to look at Dean again. "Son, you really need to keep your head in the game here. Before someone gets hurt."

"Yes sir." Dean didn't look up, he just busied himself with turning the car over, waiting until Sam slide into shotgun and his father stepped back before easing her out onto the road.

It was the snort that finally caused him to look across at his brother. "You think this is funny? 'Cos I am never hearing the end of this one, you know that, right?"

"I'm sorry, but I mean when do we ever run out of gas? That's probably why you didn't even think to check that."

"Are you trying to make me feel better or are you just rubbing in the fact that I didn't check the most obvious thing first?" Dean groused at his brother.

"Just stating a fact, we never run out of gas. Thought didn't cross my mind either you know and I'm supposed to be the smart one." Sam 's tone was teasing.

Dean snorted a half laugh at that. "Yeah I suppose you are, college boy. Think we both just failed autoshop 101. Guess we might be getting a lesson on that when we get back to Bobby's."

"You think?" Sam groaned as Dean nodded and then shrugged. The younger Winchester cast a glance over his brother. "You ok? It's not like you to forget something like that."

"I was tired Sammy, I forgot. Just drop it."

Dean turned the music up to end the conversation but Sam talked on anyway, changing the subject as he did. "Still it was fun to spend the night trapped in the old girl, been awhile since we've had to do that. Can you note for the record though, that for a hunter, your ghost stories still suck like they did when I was ten."

"Still tempering them down for you there Sam, 'cos I know what a girl you are when it comes to sleeping in the car in the dark. Still take the torch into the backseat with you there little brother?" Dean grinned as Sam reached into his jacket and pulled out the said torch.

"It's in case I gotta go pee during the night and you know that." His reply was growled good naturedly at his brother.

"Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day, you'll actually believe it. Me? I know better." Dean threw him a sweet smile.

"Just drive. I'd really like to make it to Bobby's sometime before I turn nineteen." Sam settled back to signal that the conversation really was a an end this time.

"Oh we will, think she needs a little burn, just to iron out the kinks." Dean eased his foot down and smiled as the car leapt forward. "Now that is more like it."

"Just don't forgot to stop for gas in the next town, will you?"

Dean slapped him and Sam grinned at the 'smart ass' remark that came his way. Resting his head against the glass he closed his eyes at the car gained speed. His trust that his brother would keep him safe despite the velocity they were travelling at aided his aim to catch a few more hours sleep before reaching Bobby's.

He pushed his hand inside his jacket and gripped the envelope that was there, smiling. His escape hatch was opened and he could taste the clean air. He just had to blast through the last little obstacle that was standing in his way.

He pushed the thought of John's face away and let his mind rest.

---

Bobby had watched the interactions of the small family over their final few weeks together with the benefit of an insider's outsider view and he didn't like what he was seeing.

Sam, not surprisingly, was bubbling with barely contained excitement, tempered only when his brother was around.

Bobby had set him a task and he has immersed himself in it. There had been a string of unusual deaths in a small Midwest town and Sam had gone each one methodically, connecting the dots and laying out a pretty hard to spot pattern as he did. Bobby had smiled sadly as he looked at the precise notes that Sam had made for him. No one he knew, perhaps himself excluded, did research like the younger Winchester, not even John.

John himself was in denial mode. He had found a small lead on Mary's killer and he had thrown himself after it, barking at Dean and Sam if they moved too slow or didn't follow orders. Then he had done what John tended to do best. He'd vanished. One call in the last three days only to turn up last night, to everyone's surprise, and head straight upstairs to sleep, much to Bobby's annoyance and Sam's relief.

Avoidance, the older hunter had thought bitterly, one trait that the Winchesters all shared.

And then there was Dean.

The older brother looked fine on the surface, he smiled when he needed, talked when he had to and did what John told him. Bobby felt the worry trickle through him at the way Dean alternated from almost shadowing his brother's every step like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, to disappearing for hours either out under the car or off in a bar somewhere, crawling home in the small hours of the morning.

Dean wasn't sleeping, he wasn't really eating and he was drinking much more than normal.

Bobby had watched Sam try, albeit slightly less than tactfully, to broach the subject with him but was met with the usual flat out denial that there was anything wrong.

Bobby's own answer had been simpler. He'd poured out the whisky and rationed the beer, throwing Dean a different job every day once John had gone, to keep him occupied and sober.

---

Watching his brother struggle to keep his game face on ate at Sam more than he would admit, the small slips in the façade just enough to let him see how badly Dean was starting to take it as the days were eaten away from them.

That was Sam's only regret about all of this, the fact that his brother would be left behind in the nightmare world that they had grown up in. He knew better now though than to ask Dean again to abandon the life, finally realising that his brother had been right. Dean might have managed to fit in with the college set that Sam was heading to join but it was here, in this world, that his brother really excelled. Dean was a natural hunter in a way that Sam never could nor would want to be. Any skill he did have would always be tempered by his hatred of the life they led and his resentment of his father for their lack of choice in the matter.

He couldn't lie that he wasn't relieved to be leaving this life behind and finally getting to live his own the way that he wanted to.

Tomorrow was the day that would change his life in a good way forever and he liked the sound of that word.

Forever.

---

Sam smiled at the irony that it was one of John's life lessons that he would use to walk away from everyone and everything that he had ever known. John's lesson in how to use fear in a positive way, to rise to the challenge and face it head on was the one that he would need now, to give him the strength to say goodbye to his brother and stand on his own two feet for the first time.

Freedom.

The word made him sick with excitement, his stomach twisting in knots as he finished packing his bag.

Dean was already up and gone so Sam washed and made his way downstairs, duffle over his shoulder, ready to make his break. He could feel his father's eyes on him as he walked past and into Bobby's kitchen but he ignored him for now, dropping the bag to the floor behind the outside door and turning to the older hunter.

"Where's Dean?" Sam reached for a cup and started to pour himself a coffee.

"Ask him." Bobby jerked a finger at John and moved off towards the cooker. "You need to get some breakfast inside boy. Got a long journey ahead of you today. Ain't sending you off on an empty stomach. Bacon?"

Sam nodded and turned to face John whose head was now down in a book. He lifted the coffee and slid into the seat opposite his father. "So what have you done with my brother?"

"I needed a package picked up from town, some stuff that Jim was getting for me." John didn't lift his head. "He volunteered to go get it."

Sam frowned. Dean was running him to the bus depot in less than an hour. "When did he leave?"

"An hour ago. Expect that he'll be back soon." John continued to ignore Sam and he could feel the hackles beginning to rise on his neck. Leaning forward he reached to pull the book away just as a hand caught his arm and a plate was shoved in front of him.

"Eat." He looked up at Bobby and pulled his arm free from his grip as the older hunter continued. "Now I promised Dean that you two yahoos would play nice today, what with this being the last time that you'll have to for a while. First one that breaks that promise for me is gonna be staring at the business end of my sawn-off. Rock salt won't kill ya but I can guarantee that it'll sting like a mother. I don't want one cross word spilt before Sam leaves to catch his bus. D'you both hear me?"

Sam shot a look at his father and nodded, picking up the fork that Bobby had laid down and stabbing the bacon on his plate.

John didn't react.

"I said…." Bobby booted the leg of the chair John was sat on. "…..do you BOTH hear me?"

"I heard you," John growled.

"Good." A knock at the door pulled Bobby away from the table.

John's head came up and he locked eyes with his son the minute the elder hunter moved from the room. "So, you're really just gonna get on the bus and go. Do you think that running away from who you are and leaving your past behind will be that easy?"

The sarcasm in his father's tone lit Sam's already short fuse. "I'm not running away from who I am, I'm grabbing at something before it passes me by. Like it did my brother." Sam stabbed the fork down in his food again so hard that the plate jumped on the table.

"Do you think that the things that we hunt will just disappear 'cos you don't want to see them anymore?" John closed the book and leant on it. "Are you alright with leaving your brother and I to pick up your slack?"

"It's not my slack," Sam hissed back at him. "It's never been my slack."

John pushed back the chair and stood, leaning over, eyes flashing with anger. "If you leave now you don't get to come back. I hope you damned well understand that. Make sure you do know son and that you know what you're doing."

"I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm getting a life. One of my own." He stole a quick glance over at the door.

"You leaving is going to kill your brother! Don't you care about what this will do to him?" John moved round the table, almost nose to nose with Sam as he stood to met his father's advance.

"Still using Dean, even when he's not here! Staying is going to kill me, hell it might even kill us all. I can't do this any longer. I hate this life. I hate the motels. I hate the hunting. I hate not knowing if we're going to be able to eat or not for the next few days. I hate not knowing if this is the hunt that you or Dean don't come back from. I hate it all! Don't you get that yet?" He was screaming the words at his father now.

John grabbed his jacket and pushed him up against the wall, using his bulk to hold him there. "I mean it Sam, you walk out that door, then don't bother coming back." There was a desperate edge in John's tone that egged his son on.

"Fine." Sam pushed him off as Bobby stepped back into the room, fury in his eyes. "Then I guess I won't be seeing you again. Goodbye dad." He stomped over to get his bag, needing now to be gone, to get as far away from his father as he could. He had to get out before he said something that he really could never take back.

John's hand on his arm stopped him, his father making one last attempt to stop him leaving. "Sam, you are still my son. You'll do as I say."

Shrugging free he turned to face his father, his voice quiet now as he spoke, the anger in him reined in by his disbelief that John was still trying to order him around. "I've never felt less like your son." He poked his father in the chest. "I don't care what you want. Don't you get it? You can't control me anymore dad. Live with it."

John went to grab at him again but Bobby stepped between them, pushing him back. "ENOUGH! He's leaving John, just let him go."

He felt John strain once against him and then fall back. "Don't you get it Sam? You can't leave this life." John spat at his son. "It doesn't let you."

"Well I can and I am." Sam picked his bag up and flung it over his shoulder.

"One day it'll be you that needs me, don't count on me being there!" John pushed Bobby off and walked into the living room.

"I never did," Sam said quietly.

Bobby sighed, saddened that Sam was leaving the way that he was. He went over to Sam, hugged the young man to him, unable to find the words that he wanted to say. "Take care Sam, be safe," was what he settled on.

"Thanks Bobby." Sam stepped forward to the door. "Tell Dean that I'll call him when I get there, that I'm sorry for not waiting. Take care Bobby."

With that and one final shake of his head at his father, he was gone. Bobby watched the boy walk away across his yard and pulled out his phone. "Your brother's heading for the bus station. Just so you know." He closed the phone before Dean could ask what had happened and strode over to John.

He got right up in his face.

"Just for the record, Winchester, you're a moron." Bobby turned his back on him and walked over to the corner. "You've got an hour John, I want your shit packed and out of my house by then." He picked up his shotgun from the cabinet. "Don't make me use this."

----

Dean had taken the back roads all the way down to the bus station, pulling off into a side street and sitting there, watching for his brother's bus to California to arrive and for any sign of Sam. He was rewarded about ten minutes later when one of the local buses pulled in and his brother's giant frame came into view. Tapping his hand on the steering wheel he debated going over. Maybe it would be better just to let Sam go thinking that he didn't care enough to see him off. Perhaps that would make the break easier for his brother.

Maybe make it easier for himself.

Dean knew that if he went over he was going to lose it. He knew that. The tears were already fighting their way up inside him and the pain in his chest made his breath catch every time he exhaled. He let his phone go to voice mail for the first calls, sitting there watching his brother cross to his bus, checking the faces around him, frowning when he realised that Dean's wasn't one of them.

That's when it hit Dean.

Here was his brother, about to do the most courageous thing that he had done in his life and he was hiding in the car, too damned scared to go over and wish him well. Scared of the little bit that wanted to go over there and beg his brother to stay or maybe he was scared of the little bit that wanted to get on the bus with him.

"Get out of the car you ass," he chided himself, pushing the door open and hitting the button to dial Sam's number as he did, his throat closing on him as his brother's voice said his name.

His resolve to be strong crumbled.

----

Sam was almost hopping on the spot at the bus station. He was sure that Dean would have come, that he would have wanted to wish him well, see him off safely. Yet Sam was alone. Dad was probably back at Bobby's slowly roasting that he'd dared to carry through with leaving and Dean….well Dean was just…gone. His brother's phone went to voicemail again when Sam called and he sighed. Maybe his brother was pissed at him for not waiting, angry now with him for leaving too.

"Dean. It's Sam. Listen my bus is in so I guess that I missed you. I-I'll call when I get to Palo Alto." He paused. "Guess this is it then. Bye Dean." Putting a foot onto the bus he went to pull himself up when the call came through. He smiled at the caller ID. "Dean?"

"What did he say to you?" Dean's sounded off somehow, an emotion in his voice that Sam couldn't place.

"Nothing."

"Sam. What did he say?"

"Just let it go Dean, what does it matter? It not like I wasn't leaving today anyway." Sam sighed as his brother did.

"What did he say Sam?"

"Nothing that he hasn't said to me before Dean. So are you're coming to say goodbye then?" Sam changed the subject not wanting his brother to get into it with John when he got back.

"Sammy." Suddenly Dean sounded broken and Sam tried hard not to think that it was his fault.

"Where are you? Are you back at Bobby's? I thought that you'd be here to see me off?" Sam knew that he sounded pissed but it wasn't really at his brother, more at the fact that he wouldn't get to say goodbye.

He didn't know that if he had looked round he would have seen his brother standing not ten feet behind the bus, warring with himself over whether to go closer or just turn and leave.

Dean stumbled over his words. "I-I…..I couldn't, you know…..I was on my way and I just….I'm sorry Sammy…I just….I hope that everything goes well for you. Call when you get there, ok?"

"Dean, I know….I get it, I do. I'll call. I'm going to miss your ugly face." Sam tried for a joke but there was such a long silence that he had to check the connection, fearing it had dropped. "Dean, you still there?"

Dean's crying, the thought slid into Sam's brain. That was why the silence still hung at the other end of the phone. He waited for his brother to pull it together, not calling him on it.

"Yeah." Dean's voice was a croak. "Look I need to go, Dad's got that hunt lined up and he'll have my ass if I keep him waiting."

Sam held in the sigh of frustration that Dean's word created in him, pausing this time to wipe at his own eyes, suddenly hit with an immense feeling of loneliness; he couldn't begin to tell his brother just how much he was going to miss him. "Take care Dean."

"Don't forget me Sammy." The call dropped suddenly and Sam stood there staring at it dumbly. Dean had hung up on him.

"Sam?"

He stared at the phone wondering how he could still hear his brother's voice when the line was dead.

"Sam?"

He turned.

Dean was standing there, tears glistening in his eyes and one lone one trailing his face. He scrubbed at it viciously with the back of his hand.

"I thought…." Sam stepped forward and then the moment became awkward as Dean drew back slightly, stood biting his bottom lip.

His whole face trembled with emotion.

Then he stepped forward and hugged his brother so tightly that Sam thought he was going to burst, that he'd be like a giant teddy bear with stuffing leaking out if Dean didn't let up.

Still, he hugged his brother back just as fiercely.

Just as abruptly as the call had ended Dean let go and started to back away. "I need to go….I have to…." He wiped at his face with his hand again, turned to go and then stopped, spinning back round. "I almost forgot."

He dug in his wallet and gave Sam a card.

"Health insurance? In my real name? How did you get this?"

"Julie-Anne and Agnes. It's legit. Don't ask what she's gonna make me do to thank her for getting that organised." The little grin that flashed across his features was all too brief and then he was moving, stepping briefly back into his brother's space. "I want…" Dean brought his fist to his mouth and breathed deeply before looking up and continuing. "I want you to know that I'm proud of you." He gripped Sam's shoulder tightly for a few seconds. "You need me, you call me."

Dean abruptly turned away again, heading almost at a run for a little side road that Sam hadn't even seen earlier, the Impala tucked neatly into it's tree-lined kerb partly hidden from sight.

Sam watched at the car roared to life, quickly backed onto the main street and then with one last look, his brother drove away.

"You need me, you call me." Dean's words ran through his thoughts. That was a call Sam vowed that he was never going to make.

Wiping away his own tears, he stood until the car turned a corner and disappeared from view and then he heaved his duffle back up onto his shoulder, boarded the bus, and headed out to start a new life.

One of his own.