The Plan Part 4

Timeline: This story takes place in May of 2000, just before Sam turns 17 years old. Adam is 13 years old and has only recently been on his first hunt with his father, in which a ghost possessed him.

The Road So Far:

Sam has been scheming for months for a way that he can take the SATs without his Dad finding out, going so far as to ask Bobby to help him out. Dean has his suspicions about what Sam is up to but has said nothing so far and both Adam and John seem to be completely in the dark. ( Chapters 29-31 in this story)

-/-/-/-/

Sam took one last look at Adam still sleeping in their shared bed in Bobby's guest room before quietly slipping out the door, trying to ignore the guilt churning in his gut.

Dean would have never snuck out on him. Dean would have never left him when he was sick, especially not in the last hours of food poisoning.

Sam shook off his mental reprimand and reminded himself that Bobby would be here for Adam and that the kid would likely sleep the entire time he was gone. After the all-night barf-a-thon Adam held last night, Sam figured there was no way his brother would be conscious before noon.

Sam had warned him about the bus station sandwich. Told him it was better to be hungry now then sick later, but Adam wouldn't listen. With typical teenage stubbornness and a lack of patience that would rival their oldest brother, he'd chowed down on a questionable looking sandwich from the vending machine before Sam could stop him.

The kid had been barfing since they arrived in Sioux Falls. Sam was at least grateful that Adam had managed to hold it in on the bus, although he spent the last few hours of the ride looking more green and pale at every bump in the road.

Since their arrival at Bobby's Sam had dutifully been by his brother's side. Literally staying up all night helping him get to the bathroom, wiping down his sweaty young forehead with cool cloths, everything he could think that Dean had done for him when he was sick. As the hours ticked by Sam watched the clock, watching the sleep he needed for the big test slip away.

SAT Testing tip #1: Get a good night's sleep.

So much for that one.

Sam tried not to be angry with Adam although part of him wanted to smack the kid for being so stupid and taking away the time Sam needed to be at his best. Instead, he tried to think of what Dean would do in the situation. Dean never once got mad at Sam when he was sick, even though most of the time Dean would come down with whatever bug Sam had. Dean always took care of him: made soup when he could, found extra blankets in the motel closets, always let Sam pick out the tv shows they'd watch. He sure as hell never ditched him while he was asleep.

Sam bit his lip and hesitated at the door, watching Adam's chest rise and fall in a calm, deep sleep. Clenching his jaw with a silent huff of renewed determination, he softly closed the door to their shared room and padded quietly down the stairs toward the kitchen.

SAT Testing tip #2: Eat a healthy and filling breakfast on the day of the test.

Sam peered around Bobby's quaint kitchen, wondering what he could grab that would be quiet enough not to wake Adam and filling enough to keep his stomach occupied during the four-hour test.

"Mornin'," came a gruff voice from behind him.

Sam spun around, surprised to see Bobby standing in the opposite entryway of the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand.

"There's oatmeal on the stove," he said, keeping his voice quiet, "Adam still asleep?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, walking toward the familiar cabinets and grabbing a bowl, ladling out a hearty scoop of oatmeal, "He's pretty wiped out,"

"I bet," Bobby said, coming to stand next to Sam as he leaned against the counter mechanically shoveling hot mush into his mouth, trying to get as much nutrition into his body as possible, hoping the thick oatmeal would smother the butterflies in his stomach.

"Here," Bobby said, digging in the pocket of his vest and pulling out a set of keys, "It's a beater, but it'll get you where you need to go,"

Sam froze in surprise; spoon halfway to his mouth "You…you didn't have to…"

"Ah… quit," Bobby said, roughly shoving the keys into Sam's hands and stepping away, "Just go and get your thing done. I'll keep an eye on the kid while you're gone,"

Sam smiled weakly in thanks, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him at the mention of his brother.

"Thanks, Bobby. He'll probably sleep the whole time I'm gone," Sam said, trying to reassure himself that he wasn't abandoning Adam, that his brother wouldn't even know he'd left.

Bobby nodded solemnly, "Good luck today Sam,"

The butterflies that had been squashed by oatmeal and guilt instantly reemerged and Sam had to swallow hard to get control.

"Yeah…uh…thanks," he choked out, glancing away from Bobby and back down into his nearly empty bowl, "And uh…thanks for breakfast,"

Bobby nodded again and stepped out of the room leaving Sam alone with his oatmeal and racing thoughts.

He had to focus, had to be calm and ready for this test. He only got one chance at this. Sure, the test had retake dates all throughout the summer, but the chances of being able to get away from Dad long enough to take it again was impossible, not even worth considering. Today was the day, the only day. Sam knew he had to make it count.

Setting his jaw with renewed determination, he pulled his mind away from his family and back to his plan.

He pushed himself off the counter and moved over to the sink, quickly and quietly rinsing out his bowl, setting it to dry on the rack. He stepped out of the kitchen with the keys that Bobby had given him in hand, leaning over to grab his backpack, which held his pencils, calculator and scratch paper, everything he was told to bring in preparation for the test. Pausing a moment before walking out the door, he pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and opened it, double checking that the ID in the front was his legitimate 'Sam Winchester' driver's license, not the 'Sam Gabriel' one that Dean had given him last week. A half smile crept on to Sam's face at the memory. Dean thought it was hilarious to make all their fake ids with names of old ass rock musicians. Dean's latest was 'Dean Collins' and Dean had a hell of a time explaining the 'Peter Gabriel- Phil Collins' thing to Adam, leading to a three-hour music lesson, in which Dean was determined to educate Adam on the 'good' music available prior to 1990. Sam had ended up digging out earplugs for that long ass car ride.

Returning his wallet to his pocket, Sam glanced up the stairs once more, ears straining to try to hear Adam's gentle snores. There was no way he could hear them from where he was, but still, he willed Adam to stay asleep and unaware while he was gone.

-/-/-/-/

All and all the test was kind of a breeze.

Sam was aware that he was a smart kid, he'd had teachers tell him all his life, not to mention Dean ragging on him constantly for being such a nerd, but he was sure that the SATs would have been a lot harder than they were.

Granted, Sam had been studying for months. Taking practice test after practice test, any time he could get away from his father or brothers' eyes. He'd stolen two SAT prep books from two different libraries and after ripping off the covers, kept them at hand to glance through in between his normal research and homework.

The reading and writing were by far the easiest, so easy in fact that Sam had time to go back and re-read each provided essay twice to be sure of his answers. The math section was only a little more challenging, but he was still able to finish in enough time to go back and double check the few answers that he was uncertain on.

Overall Sam felt pretty good about the whole thing and was riding pretty high as he drove down the desolate South Dakota roads back to Bobby's place.

As he pulled down the gravel driveway past the Singer Auto Salvage sign, Sam spotted a small figure sitting on the top stair of the porch, leaning against one of the pillars.

Crap.

Sam watched as Adam launched himself off the porch and ran toward the car before Sam had even fully stopped the vehicle.

"Sam!" he yelled, skittering around the backside of the borrowed, rusting Chevelle, running up to the driver's side door.

"Where'd you go? Why didn't you tell me? Why'd you leave me like that?" he yelled through the open driver's side window as Sam killed the engine, his guilt at leaving his little brother turning into a shameful irritation.

"Jeez, calm down Adam," Sam said dismissively, pushing his brother back with the door of the car as he opened it, "I just went into town, not a big deal,"

"Why didn't you wake me up, Sam?" Adam pled desperately, making Sam's stomach turn with shame.

"You needed the sleep Adam," he said, getting out of the car and looking down at Adam's earnest expression, "Oh…I got you something," Sam said, leaning back down into the car and reaching across to the passenger seat.

"Here," he said standing back up and handing Adam a white box of saltine crackers, "Lunch," he said with a weak playful smirk, hoping his teasing sounded enough like Dean to make Adam smile.

Adam looked down at the box Sam pushed into his chest and scowled, "You could have woke me up. Just told me you were going at least…" he complained sullenly.

"Guess you're feeling better?" Sam asked, dodging Adam's complaints as he turned to walk toward the house knowing that his brother would follow.

"I guess," Adam mumbled, trailing behind Sam as expected, "Where'd you go anyway?"

"Just into town," Sam said repeated vaguely, "Had some stuff to look up for Dad,"

"You mean there's lore that Bobby doesn't have in this place?" Adam asked, hurrying to catch up to Sam's long stride.

"Apparently," Sam quipped, ready for Adam's interrogation to wrap up.

"You know I can help with that stuff," Adam replied, "Dad said I'm supposed to. I'm supposed to be learning all the research stuff. You should have taken me with you,"

Sam scowled in frustration. God, kid just let it go already.

"Well maybe if you'd listened to me, you would haven't been up all night puking and you could have come," he snapped sourly.

"Its not my fault it was a bad sandwich!" Adam shouted back, blushing with insult and embarrassment.

"It's your fault for eating it!" Sam barked in return, roughly pushing Bobby's front door open, not caring when it slammed into the wall behind.

"Shut up you jerk!" Adam yelled back.

"Hey!" Bobby yelled sharply, poking his head out from the kitchen one the phones he kept on the wall that he used for fake agencies pressed to his ear, his hand covering the mouthpiece, "Will you two keep it down! I'm on the phone!" he hissed, glaring at them before removing his hand and resuming his conversation, ...yes, Detective Seger is in my department…"

Sam looked at Adam, who was still glaring at him and nodded toward the stairs. He bounded up easily, skipping stair steps like he always did, Adam scurrying up behind him.

Adam followed him into the room they were sharing; the bed rumpled and unmade from where Adam had presumably jumped out as soon as he woke up and found Sam missing.

"So are you feeling better?" Sam asking genuinely, as his brother sat down heavily on the bed.

Adam just shrugged, "I guess," he said, not looking at Sam.

"Adam," Sam said softly, feeling bad for his brother, "I'm sorry I left...that I didn't tell you I was going ok?"

Adam scowled down at the carpet in silence.

Sam sighed and walked over, sitting down on the bed next to his brother, "Hey," he said gently, "I really am sorry. I really thought you'd sleep all morning after last night. I just wanted you to get some rest,"

Adam remained doggedly silent, refusing to look at Sam.

"I won't do it again ok? I'll at least wake you up and let you know that I'm leaving. You won't wake up alone again,"

"I'm not a baby Sam," Adam grumbled, still watching the beige carpet and starting to fiddle with the edge of the blanket on the bed, "I don't like being left in the dark,"

"I get that," Sam said, nodding, "Yeah, I get that. I hate when Dad does it to me,"

"Yeah exactly," Adam said emphatically, looking up at his brother, "I just wanna know what's going on."

Sam nodded again, "You're right Adam."

"Really?" he asked, staring up skeptically at his brother.

"Yeah," Sam said seriously, "It was shitty of me not to at least tell you that I was going into town, for you to wake up and have no clue where I went. Dad does that crap all the time and I hate it. I'm sorry that I did it to you,"

Adam looked astonished at his brother's admission, clearly not used to any Winchester accepting blame.

"Uh…well…yeah…thanks…I guess," he replied hesitantly, eyeing Sam uncomfortably.

"Do you want some real lunch?" Sam asked, looking over at the box of saltine crackers that Adam had thrown haphazardly at the foot of the bed.

At the mention of food, Adam turned a little pale, "Uh…no. I think I'm good. I'm just tired,"

"Why don't you try to get some rest huh?" Sam said, patting Adam's knee and standing up from the bed.

"If I do, you won't sneak out on me?" Adam asked apprehensively, fixing Sam with a serious stare.

"I said I won't dude," Sam replied earnestly, "I'll be downstairs with Bobby, ok?"

"Hmmm….ok," Adam replied, still seeming suspicious of his brother.

"Seriously. I promise," Sam said, locking eyes with Adam.

Adam gave a little nod then leaned over and began unlacing his shoes and Sam realized that was the most he was going to get out his little brother.

"Get some rest ok bud?" Sam said walking out of the room and softly closing the door behind him, trying to not sigh with relief.

-/-/-/-

Back downstairs Bobby was off the phone and leaning over a pile of newspapers, open books, and scraps of paper covering the entirety of the kitchen table.

"Big case?" Sam asked, walking into the kitchen, glancing at the papers Bobby had spread out in front of him.

"Yeah, not exactly sure what it is either," he admitted with a frustrated sigh, "Got three victims in a 50-mile radius, but details don't match any of the usual suspects."

"You want some help?" Sam offered.

"Depends," Bobby said, looking up at him from under the rim of his worn ball cap, "You planning on telling your brother about the plan you're cooking up?"

"What? No." Sam said quickly, avoiding Bobby's stare.

"Come on, Sam," Bobby said, pushing off the table and standing up to face Sam, "Give the kid a chance,"

"No way Bobby!" Sam replied in an angry hush, glancing nervously toward the living room stairs, "He's a kid! A blabbermouth. He'll tell dad."

"Sam, come on. Adam's young, yeah, but he ain't stupid. He knows your Daddy well enough by now. If you told him to keep quiet he would."

"No way Bobby. No," Sam said, shaking his head in finality, "I can't risk it."

Bobby gave him a hard, disappointed stare and slowly looked back down at the research on the table, shifting the pages around gently.

"You…you won't tell him? Will you Bobby?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Bobby looked up at Sam, his expression serious and stoic, "No son, I won't. But it ain't right, keeping this from him. He's got enough of that need-to-know crap from your Daddy,"

Sam looked away guiltily, wishing he could hide from Bobby's shame and disappointment in him.

Glancing again at the pile of work on Bobby's table, "Are these the police reports?" he said casually, picking up a few printed pages and beginning to read them.

Bobby waited a moment, fixing Sam with another disappointing look before he shook his head, "Yeah…three dead…same wounds…"

-/-

A/N- Thank you for reading! And thank you to those who gave me some new ideas to run with! I'm really excited to get started and I so appreciated it! Thank you to everyone who reads and keeps up with this story! I love writing it and I love reading your thoughts about it and the characters! Your reviewers inspire me to keep writing and keep trying to get better!