Interviews Part 6
Timeline - December 2001. This chapter takes place about a month after the Hartsville hunt where 13-year-old Adam was forced to kill a shapeshifter in the form of a young woman.
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Red.
Dark.
Screams.
Adam's heart was racing. He was running. Running as fast as he could. Was he being chased? Trying to get away? Just running. He didn't know where he was going.
Lost.
Dark.
Everything was so dark. He couldn't see into the shadows. Couldn't see anything around him. He ran as fast as he could, pushing his legs hard, praying that his feet would land on solid ground he couldn't see.
Screams.
Again the screaming. It was so loud. Where was it coming from? It was everywhere. Multiple screams. Some angry and hateful, spitting unintelligible rage. Some screaming in pain, ending in moans of sobs.
Mom.
Adam woke with a start, flinching with the memory of the word.
"You ok there, bud?" Dean asked from the other side of the couch, where he was slumped comfortably into the corner, sipping a beer.
"Yeah," Adam panted, still breathless from the terror the dream.
Dean gave him a skeptical stare but said nothing.
"I'm fine," Adam insisted, scooting down further into the sinking couch and trying to focus on the old episode of Scooby Doo that Dean had playing on the television in front of them.
The shapeshifter hunt had been over a month ago and yet every day, every moment, that Adam drifted off to sleep he was tortured by unending nightmares. The nightmares (night terrors, Sam called them) were always horrific and usually Adam could only remember the last moment or two before he woke up. Unfortunately, though, that moment was more than enough to shake him deeply and make him regret ever falling asleep in the first place.
"Don't let me fall asleep again," he said to Dean, staring into the cartoon as he spoke to his brother.
"You need some sleep dude, you look like shit," Dean said, looking over at him.
Adam glanced away from the tv to scowl back, "Yeah well…." He said fumbling for an insult, "Look who's talking."
Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, "See, you're too tired to even come up with a decent comeback."
"Shut up. I'm fine," Adam said, scowling.
"Yeah sure," Dean said sarcastically, taking a sip of his beer and dropping the conversation.
Adam ignored his brother and tried to focus on the cartoon, but he couldn't follow the episode even though he was sure he'd seen it before. As he watched the colorful characters flee from room to room his mind wandered.
The weight of Dad's knife in his hand…
The wetness of his jeans sticking to his leg…
The gurgling sound she made as she began to choke on the blood filling her throat.
The motel room door clicked open, startling Adam again, and he turned to see Sam and Dad walking into the room, each with a hand full of books and papers from the local library where they'd been researching the latest case.
"Are you guys seriously watching Scooby Doo?" Sam asked, walking in and putting his books on one of the motel beds just behind the couch.
"Hell yes we are," Dean said with a proud nod to Adam.
"Dean…" Sam said exasperated.
"Let me school you on Scooby Doo ok, Samantha?" Dean said, sitting up on the couch and turning sideways in his seat to face Adam and Sam, "The great Scooby and Shaggy teach us two main things. One" he said holding up a finger "is that the villains are usually not strangers and two: that humans are the real monsters."
"Yeah," Sam said with a scoff, "and if you smoke a bunch of weed your dog will talk to you,"
"Wait, what?" Adam asked, sitting up a little to turn toward Sam, "Who smokes weed?" he asked in confusion, causing both his brothers to chuckle at him.
"What'd you guys get on the case?" Dean asked over Adam's head at Dad who was shuffling papers on the table.
"We got the history of the house, at least as far back as the paper trail goes," Dad said, picking up a handful of the papers and walking over to hand them to Dean, "But a lot of people in this area were illiterate for most of the past century so there's not a lot to go on."
"That mean we're gonna be here for awhile?" Adam asked cautiously.
"Possibly." Dad replied, standing behind the couch and putting a hand gently on Adam's head, "We'll see."
Adam tried not to frown at his father's words. They'd only been here for three days but he was more than ready to go. Christmas was on Friday and Adam just really wanted to be somewhere where there was some snow, something they probably weren't gonna see in this little podunk town in Tennessee.
Although it's not like Adam was really looking forward to Christmas itself. To be honest, he couldn't have cared less. Without his mom around, Adam didn't think he'd ever want to celebrate anything again. For once he was thankful for his new family's unconventional dealings with holidays. They tended to skip over birthdays, only tossing him a hostess snack with a smile, basically ignored Thanksgiving and didn't even speak of Halloween. And last year when Christmas did roll around, they watched the Macy's parade together and went out for Chinese food. That was it. They never mentioned gifts; never spoke about how it was his first Christmas with them, or without his mom. It was strange, but also strangely comforting. Christmas needed to be weird and wrong. It could never be as happy and wonderful as it had been with her, so sitting in a dingy motel room watching football and eating left over fried rice felt right in its wrongness.
This year Adam was hoping to see some snow though. They'd been spending too much time in the south lately and Adam was itching for that little reminder that it was actually winter. He was slowly getting used to the nomadic Winchester lifestyle, but he still longed for the comfort of the Minnesota cold in December.
"Alright," Dad said, patting Adam on the head, "I'm gonna take a leak. You boys get ready, we're gonna go do some target practice before dark," Dad said.
Adam suppressed a sigh and sat up on the couch, watching as Dean did the same, placing the stack of papers Dad had handed him on the small table in front of them.
Hiding a grimace from the lingering pain in his leg as he moved, Adam set about searching for his boots.
"What'd ya think Sammy?' Dean asked in a quiet voice.
Dean's questioning tone stopped Adam in his tracks and he turned to look back at his brothers.
"I don't know Dean." Sam whispered conspiratorially, "There's nothing haunting that house. Never has been, as far as I can tell. I don't know what we're doing here,"
Dean frowned but said nothing.
"He's not telling us something," Sam whispered again, as Dean walked over to grab his boots from beside the bed he and Adam were sharing.
"Yeah…" Dean agreed quietly.
"Get your boots on Adam," Dean ordered, in a normal voice when he noticed Adam staring at them.
Adam sneered at his brother, irritated at being left out of whatever it was they were talking about, as usual. Then, with his always-impeccable timing, Dad came out of the bathroom ending any hope Adam had about pestering his brothers to find out what they were talking about.
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"Adam."
"Adam."
"Hey dweeb!"
"Huh?" Adam asked, suddenly aware that he'd been staring off into space.
"Are you gonna eat that?" Dean asked, pointing down to the abandoned half cheeseburger on Adam's plate.
"Uh. No," Adam said, pushing the plate across the table toward his oldest brother.
"You need to eat son," Dad said, staring at him with concern.
"I'm fine," Adam said, picking at the napkin on the table in front of him.
Sam bristled in his seat next to Adam. The kid was definitely not fine. Ever since the hunt in Hartsville Adam had been a mess: nightmares every night, eating next to nothing, angry for the stupidest reasons and a complete space case most of the day.
Dad had said to leave him alone and give him space to work it out for himself and Dean seemed to agree.
Sam did not.
He researched. He knew all about all the symptoms that Adam was displaying after the hunt: textbook posttraumatic stress disorder. It wasn't surprising, not to Sam at least. Adam was a normal kid until a year ago; more normal than Sam or Dean had ever been, and from everything that Sam had been reading, normal people's reactions to something as shocking as murder could be pretty upsetting.
Adam's refusal to eat was clearly upsetting Dean. Even as he tore into the uneaten half of his brother's cheeseburger, he didn't seem happy about it. Sam knew how seriously his older brother took his responsibility to them and despite Dean's silence today he knew Dean was watching and counting every calorie that passed Adam's lips.
The memory of the first days after the hunt bubbled up and Sam remembered Dean's determination to get Adam to eat.
"Come on kid, just have a few fries. You gotta eat," Dean said, placing a small bag of fresh french fries next to Adam on the bed as he watched the fuzzy motel television.
"Not hungry," Adam answered back, ignoring his brother.
Sam watched as Dean took a deep breath, trying to keep calm and gentle in the face of Adam's ever-increasing bad attitude.
"You need to eat Adam. I'm serious," Dean tried again.
"Yeah, I'm seriously not hungry," Adam shot back irritably, still focused on the television.
Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise at Adam's response. His little brother wasn't usually so mouthy or mean to Dean, especially if he knew Dean was trying to be nice.
"Eat kid." Dean demanded, his patience fraying.
"Not. Hungry. Dude." Adam spat back slowly, causing Dean to grit his teeth in frustration.
"How long's it been since you ate huh?" Dean asked, his voice tinged with anger.
Adam had just shrugged, focused intently on the tv.
"Three days!" Dean replied, holding up three fingers. "Three days. You gotta freaking eat kid."
"I don't want to," came the reply, spoke to the television.
"Why?" Sam asked calmly from the opposite bed, hoping he could break the tension between his brothers.
"Cause I don't. That's why," Adam replied harshly.
"If your stomach hurts, it's probably because you're hungry," Sam supplied.
Adam turned away from the television for only a moment to glare at him.
"Eat." Dean said pushing the fries toward his brother.
"No Dean." Adam said, sitting up with a wince of pain to push them back at him.
"Eat. Now." Dean ordered, taking on the most John Winchester style tone Sam had ever heard from him.
"No." Adam ground out, between clenched teeth.
"Goddammit! Eat!" Dean yelled, taking a dangerous step closer to the bed so that he was leaning over Adam.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, intervening. "That's not helping."
"I don't freaking care Sam," Dean said, his voice beginning to shake with anger, "Kid's gonna eat if I have to freaking sit on him,"
"Eat Adam!" Dean yelled again.
Adam glared and his brother, but grabbed a handful of fries shoving them ungraciously into his mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing.
"There! Was that so damn hard?" Dean yelled.
Sam watched as Adam went pale, then green, throwing a hand over his mouth just in time to catch a handful of vomit, causing tears to roll down his face as he jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom.
"Great job Dean." Sam said sarcastically.
"Shut up," Dean replied miserably, roughly running a hand through his hair, "I didn't think he'd actually throw up. Shit, I'm such an asshole."
Sam had watched his brother sadly for only a moment before hurrying off into the bathroom to check on Adam. He knew Dean didn't mean to scream at Adam, that it was only the intense worry for this youngest brother that caused Dean to fly off the handle. Dean was normally the calm and collected one in their family, for him to completely lose it like that Sam knew his anxiety was at all-time high.
Since that day Dean hadn't said anything about Adam's eating, or lack of, but Sam knew that it was wearing on his brother. Anytime Adam refused food or simply pushed the items on his plate around, Sam would catch Dean staring at their brother, looking like he was trying to find something to say, but in the end, keeping silent.
Sam was worried for Adam too, and not just because he'd lost weight. Since the hunt, his brother's whole demeanor seemed to have changed. Whatever happened out there with Dad had altered something within Adam and he seemed colder than he was before.
Concern for his brother diminished Sam's own hunger and he pushed away his turkey burger, wishing once again that unending misery wasn't part of their everyday lives.
"I've got a few interviews to do tomorrow around the area," Dad said, drawing Sam from his thoughts, "I want you boys back to full training while I'm gone."
Sam gave a little nod of acknowledgment even though he didn't really think Adam was ready to go back to training. Surprisingly, Dad had let Adam take the past few weeks off from full PT and had only this week made him start walking alongside them during their morning runs. Sam had been watching his brother carefully since the hunt and although Adam hadn't complained about any of his injuries, Sam didn't miss the flashes of pain that still crossed his face from time to time.
"Are we gonna be here long enough to go to school?" Sam asked.
"I doubt it," Dad said, "but it's almost Christmas break anyway. We'll get you and Adam back in school in January."
Sam couldn't hide the look of displeasure that he knew was on his face. Any other kid would be happy about having an extended Christmas holiday, but not Sam. The longer he was out of school the more hunting and training he'd have to do.
And besides, Adam needed to get back in school as soon as possible. The kid hadn't been in class since he was expelled last month. Sam had been doing what he could to 'homeschool' Adam since then, but it wasn't going well. Normally Adam was receptive to all Sam had to teach him, he seemed to like learning all about the lore and the research tips and tricks Sam passed on, but lately, even when Sam tried to teach Adam normal subjects like English and Math, he resisted. He'd complain about the books, whine about how hard the math was or just plain fight his brother trying to get out of doing any work. It was infuriating.
"Dad, don't think we should go to school if we can? Even for a little while? Adam hasn't been in school in over a month now," Sam said, studying his father.
John looked at his youngest sons for a moment, trying to guess exactly Sam was getting at with his question.
"I thought you were helping Adam with his schoolwork Sam," John questioned, putting down the coffee he'd been sipping.
"I am." Sam said defensively.
"So what's the problem then?" John asked.
Sam was quiet, not wanting to throw Adam under the bus, but still wanting Dad's help to make his brother study.
"Adam?" John asked, glancing at his youngest.
Sam glanced over at his brother but was met with a blank stare. Adam was gone again.
"Adam." John said more firmly.
A sharp kick to the shin from under the table by Dean finally woke Adam from his stupor.
"Ow!" he cried out, glaring across the table.
John shook his head sadly, keeping a worried eye on Adam "You have got to snap out of this son,"
"Snap outta what?" Adam asked, confused.
Dean stared at him incredulously, "Are you serious?"
Adam scowled at his brother.
"Adam…son..." Dad said gently, leaning forward and putting his forearms on the table, "I know there are parts of this life that are hard to deal with. We've all been trying to give you space to figure it out, but its time for you deal with it and move on,"
"Deal with it?" Adam asked in surprise, his eyes suddenly narrowing. "Deal with it like you deal with it? In a bottle?"
John immediately straightened in his seat, shock and anger racing through him at his son's words, "Excuse me?"
Adam tore his surly glare from his father to glance across the table at Dean's shocked expression; his openmouthed gape revealing the last of Adam's cheeseburger and suddenly Adam felt his stomach turn.
He nearly jumped out of the booth, standing up and dashing out of the restaurant before his father or brothers could stop him.
Sam watched as his father's shock melted into a simmering rage and he knew he had to step in to save Adam's ass on this one.
"I'll go get him Dad," Sam said quickly, sliding out of the booth and hurrying to follow Adam out to the parking lot.
"What the fuck was that?" Sam shouted at Adam's back once they were outside the restaurant.
Adam ignored him, rushing to the car and sitting down hard on the pavement beside it.
"Seriously dude, what were you thinking? He's gonna whip your ass for that!" Sam said, walking over to stand near where Adam was sitting.
"I don't care," Adam mumbled, turning away from Sam and staring out into the trees behind the little mom and pop restaurant they'd chosen for dinner.
"Yeah, well you will." Sam mumbled in return, leaning against the car and sliding down to sit next to Adam, "What the hell man?"
Adam just shrugged.
"You've gotta let us help Adam." Sam said, "You're struggling with this. We can all see it. Whatever happened on that hunt, whatever you had to do- I know it's hard, but we can help…"
"We've all been there. Done stuff we never thought we'd do. Stuff that you don't even really wanna think about. It's ok man. Just talk to me. I can help you,"
"Who said I want your help Sam?" Adam growled, staring at the pavement.
"You need it Adam." Sam said seriously, "You need to deal with this hunt, get past it. I know it was your first kill and killing a shifter is hard. I mean it looked like a human, I get how horrible that can be,"
Suddenly Adam turned to glare at him.
"I don't care about that stupid fucking shifter Sam. She got what was coming to her," he said in a cold voice. "I'm glad I killed her,"
That wasn't the response Sam had been expecting. Everything he read said that a kid who had witnessed something as disturbing as murder would be a traumatized, teary-eyed mess. And for as dazed and distant as Adam had been the past few weeks Sam was just waiting for the breakdown he figured was imminent.
"Adam..." Sam began
"Just leave me alone Sam,"
The last thing Sam wanted to do was to leave Adam alone. He wanted to push more and try to get his brother to talk about the hunt. Sam knew that if he could just get Adam to open up a little bit that he could help his brother work through the trauma of what he had experienced. He wanted to fight for his little brother, make him face his fear and conquer it, but as he sat on the pavement studying Adam's profile as his brother ignored him he decided maybe now wasn't the time.
"Fine." Sam said, standing up and walking around to the back of the car, leaning on the Impala's trunk to wait for Dean and Dad.
Adam knew he'd pissed his brother off but he didn't really care. Same as he didn't really care that he'd pissed Dad off. It didn't really matter.
It actually felt kinda good to be angry.
He'd been scared and sad for so long, angry felt good. It was like the pain in his leg and in his shoulder. Part of him was glad that it was getting better, that he was recovering, but some other part of him, something deep down liked the pain. He liked that his shoulder still ached when he reached up for something. He liked that if he pressed down a little on his thigh he'd get a shooting pain that reminded him of the hunt. Reminded him of what he did.
If he thought about what he did, how he killed that monster then he wouldn't think about his mom. If he could focus on the feeling of the knife, then he wouldn't remember the soft satin of the inside of the coffin where he'd been trapped. If he thought about her gurgling and choking sounds then he wouldn't remember his mother's last pitiful moans before she went silent.
Sam was wrong. Dad was wrong.
Adam wasn't gonna deal with the hunt and move past it. He was gonna hold on to it. He was gonna treasure every detail and remember every moment he could.
He wasn't helpless on the hunt. He wasn't scared or trapped or dying. He was strong. And smart. And fast. He saved Dad. He did everything that he had wanted to do for his mom but couldn't.
"Yo, dead man walking," Dean called out, shaking Adam from his thoughts as he approached the car, "You've got some serious sack talking to Dad like that. What'd you think Sammy? You think we'll make it out of the parking lot before Dad tans his ass?"
Dean smirked at Adam, wagging his eyebrows at Sam, trying to lighten his brothers' moods, but was met with matching scowls in return.
"Yeah… well, I tried to talk him down some for you kid," Dean said more seriously, "But you basically handed him the belt with this one,"
"Don't care," Adam grumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them.
Dean looked over at Sam, hoping for an explanation of some kind, but Sam just shrugged.
"Adam." A deep voice called out from behind them, causing all three brothers to turn and look as their father slowly walked towards the car.
Despite his tough talk, Adam felt a twist of fear and dread develop in his stomach.
Dad strode over and stood next to Adam, looming over him.
"Stand up," he ordered.
Still feeling angry and defiant, but not wanting to make what was coming worse for himself Adam stood up, staring hatefully at the pavement.
"You boys wait here," Dad said to his brothers, as he put a firm hand on the back of Adam's neck, "Your brother and me are gonna have a talk."
A stab of ice shot through Adam's gut at the words. He wasn't surprised. He'd known Dad long enough to know that he didn't put up with any disrespect and, like Dean said, Adam had practically been asking for it, but that still didn't soothe the dread building in his veins.
Adam let himself be steered around to the back of the little restaurant, where boxes and dumpsters lay open against the fading white bricks.
Dad removed his hand from Adam's neck and turned Adam around to face him, leaning down and gently grabbing Adam's chin, forcing the boy to meet his eye.
"I know you're dealing with something. But you don't talk like that to me." He said lowly, "Not ever. You understand?"
"Yes sir," Adam mumbled as much as he could through the strong grip Dad had on his face.
"Turn around. Put your hands on the wall," Dad ordered, letting go of his chin.
Adam hesitated a moment, just long enough to give his father a furious stare before turning around and putting his palms flat against the rough brick. He took a deep breath as he listened to the familiar sound of leather leaving belt loops and tried to harden himself for the pain he knew was coming.
Pain was good, he reminded himself. It would help him stay angry. It would help him remember how tough he was and what he could do.
The first stroke of the belt came harder than Adam was expecting and he gasped and recoiled, leaning into the wall as far as he could go. The next hit came immediately after and Adam understood that Dad was getting this over with as fast as he could, not dragging it out so Adam could think about his mistake like he sometimes did. Determined to keep his mouth shut and not humiliate himself by crying out, Adam curled his hands into fists and bit his bottom lip through the rapid fire pace of the next 11 brutal strokes.
13.
Guess I'll get 14 next year, Adam thought distantly as he gasped for air that wouldn't come, still trying not to cry as his backside throbbed in time with his pulse.
"Alright," Dad said, unfolding his belt and quickly looping it back through his jeans.
Adam shakily pushed himself off the wall and wiped at the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. At least he hadn't cried out loud like some stupid kid.
"Come on son," Dad said, gently putting his arm around Adam's shoulder and giving him a small squeeze as they walked out from behind the restaurant.
Adam didn't meet his brothers' eyes when they reached the Impala, not wanting to see their concern and sympathy for his backside. Instead, he focused on the pavement, then the floorboard of the car as he climbed into the backseat, keeping his eyes down, concentrating on absorbing the pain that was radiating across the lower half of his body.
"Straight to bed when we get back Adam," Dad said as he brought the Impala to life with a rumble.
"Yeah," Adam muttered, still staring at the floor.
"Excuse me?" Dad snapped, his tone harsh and on edge.
"Yes sir," Adam corrected, gritting his teeth.
"That's your one pass for the rest of the night," Dad said and Adam knew his father was glaring at him from the rearview mirror. "Don't make me repeat this lesson,"
"Yes sir," Adam replied, trying to ignore the awkward tension that was settling in the car.
They rode silently back to the motel and Adam followed orders, changing into his pajamas and getting into bed soon after they walked in the door.
He wasn't gonna sleep though. Dad could make him go to bed, but he couldn't make him sleep.
So Adam lay in the bed, facing the fading striped wallpaper of the motel wall and listened.
He listened to Dad and Dean as they watched the 'The A-team' and commented about how fake the action was and debated the best catch phrase. He listened as Sam shuffled papers and opened books, probably reading something and taking notes. God, even when he wasn't in school Sam was studying. Dean was right, Sam was a nerd.
Adam thought about his own schoolwork. He did sorta miss school if he was being honest with himself. He'd always been pretty good at it and liked learning new stuff. He even kinda missed reading about stuff that wasn't monster related. But really what good was all that gonna do him now?
Something clicked for him after the last hunt. Some kind of deep realization that had been drifting in the back of his mind for awhile, but had come to the forefront as he watched his older brother in the mirror, standing too close to him in a tiny motel bathroom, gently pulling and removing the stitches from his shoulder. Sam was quiet the whole time, deep in concentration at his task, but Adam had watched his face. For as much as Sam talked about hating hunting, as much he never wanted to do any of the things that Dad demanded of them, Sam was perfect at it, a born hunter. He was capable, detached, calm.
Everything that Adam never was.
Everything Adam wanted to be.
Adam had too many feelings, all the time. Everything was too much, or too hard or too scary. Sam was in control- all the time. He was never flustered on a hunt, never scared or shivering with fear. Even those times when he faced off against Dad, Sam wasn't scared or even nervous, and even if Sam had to back down it never felt like he lost.
That's what Adam wanted. He wanted that control.
Adam watched his brother more carefully after that, trying to figure out just how Sam had cultivated such intense self-control. It was an everyday argument between Dad and Sam a few days after he got his stitches out that that was the light bulb that finally clued Adam into how Sam was wired.
Rage.
That was how Sam kept so collected. He was pissed. He seemed calm and in control on the surface, but there was a volcano of rage building underneath. Adam had known for as long as he'd known his brother that Sam didn't like hunting, that he didn't want to be a hunter. But over the past year, the anger over their forced lifestyle had grown into something more. Something Adam couldn't quite put a finger on but could feel nonetheless. And that was enough for Adam.
Screw being a doctor and helping people. He'd help people the same way that Dad and Dean did, by saving their lives before they got hurt. He'd already sworn to himself that he'd hunt down and murder every ghoul on the planet, so what was a few more supernatural dickheads?
Adam rolled onto his stomach, feeling his backside ache with the movement, but chose to embrace the pain, to let it fuel him.
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She was wearing a gold cross…
Blood made her hands slippery as she grabbed at his face…
His blood was warm, smearing red across the white satin of the inside of the coffin…
Adam's blood-curdling scream filled the room, causing all three Winchesters to jump.
"Fuck!" Dean yelled, instantly jumping up from the couch and leaping over the back, rushing next to his little brother's side and grabbing Adam as he sat up in sleep and thrashed wildly.
"Adam! Kid! Wake up!" Dean yelled, shaking his brother.
Dad was suddenly on the other side of Adam, grabbing his arm, "Adam, you're ok son! You're ok!"
Adam finally pulled himself from the edge of his nightmare and opened his eyes; tears streaming freely down his cheeks.
"Breathe Adam," Sam reminded him from the end of the bed, "Try to breathe,"
Dean could feel Adam's pulse racing through the hold he had still had on the kid's hand, and he watched as his brother tried to slow down his rapid breathing to a more normal rate.
Dean sat down next to him on the bed, keeping a soft hold on Adam's arm.
"You're ok dude," he said gently.
All the surly attitude he had seen across the table tonight at dinner was gone, and Dean was face to face with a little kid who looked like he'd seen death itself.
"Can you tell us what it was about?" Sam asked.
"Sam, leave him alone," Dean admonished without looking back, annoyed that his brother was probing at Adam so soon after his nightmare.
"I'm just trying to help Dean." Sam snapped, "You're supposed to try to recall the dream as soon as possible in order to determine its source trauma,"
"Sam." Dad cautioned, "That's enough."
Dean didn't have to turn around to feel the look of irritation that Sam had plastered on his face and he could tell by the change in his brother's breathing that he was huffing in frustration. It's not like Dean didn't want to figure out what was causing Adam's nightmares, shit anything that might stop them would be good, but pestering the kid with psycho-babble first thing was definitely not going to help.
"I'm ok," Adam said after a few minutes, clearly uncomfortable with having his whole family gathered around him staring.
"You sure son?" Dad questioned doubtfully.
"Yeah. Yeah," Adam said, taking a deep breath and pulling away from Dean's gentle hold, "I'm fine."
Dean exchanged a concerned glance with his father, who looked back at Adam in return.
"Hey, you know what kid," Dean said slapping the bed cheerfully, "This shit's gonna go away. You just wait,"
Adam looked at him skeptically and slumped down into the pillows, wincing.
"Yeah, whatever," he said.
Dean sighed and stood up, deciding not to keep pushing his brother, "Well that's about enough Full House heart to heart talk for me," he said, "I'm thinking about a pool game, you with me Sammy?"
"No thanks Dean," Sam said seriously.
"You're so fun, you know that?" Dean teased, "You in Dad? Wanna see what we can take the yokels in this town for?"
Dad considered for a moment, the replied, "Sure, but I'll just keep an eye out of you. I've got people to talk to tomorrow, don't wanna make any enemies just yet, it's a small town,"
Dean nodded in agreement and turned to grab his coat and boots.
"Sammy, find your brother a book or something to read. No lore, though," Dad ordered, glancing down at Adam with concern.
Sam nodded and reluctantly left the foot of Adam's bed to go dig through his makeshift backpack to find the books he'd borrowed from the library. Dad might have taken him there with the intent of researching history and hauntings, but there was no way Sam was gonna leave a library without some goodies of his own.
Before long Dad and Dean were gone and Sam was left deciding if Adam would prefer Wuthering Heights or A Portrait of Dorian Grey. Instinct said neither.
Adam had rolled over to face the wall again, resolutely ignoring his older brother as Sam walked over with the two books in hand.
"So I've got these," he said, sitting down on the end of the bed and tossing the books near his brother, "You might like them if you give them a chance,"
Adam glanced down at the books on the bed and turned back to the wall without saying anything.
Sam frowned at his brother's miserable attitude.
"Dude. Just talk about this with me. Just a little bit!" Sam implored, "I can help you, if you just let me!"
Adam was silent, staring into the wall.
"Adam. Come on," Sam begged, "Please man. I want to help you,"
Adam stayed obstinately silent, glaring indifferently, refusing to acknowledge Sam's increasingly desperate pleas.
"Look, Adam," Sam said his voice becoming quiet, "I don't… I'm trying to help. I know you think you don't want help and… and maybe that's true. But you need to know that I'm here for you. And I don't want you to be dealing with this. You shouldn't be dealing with this. You deserve better. You're 13 years old for Christ's sakes. You shouldn't be thinking about murder and death all the time,"
"It's just…" Sam whispered, "I want… I need you to know that you don't have to do this. You don't have to be a hunter. I know it's what Dad wants and what Dean wants, but its hard and horrible and there are so many better things in the world. You can do better things. You don't have to be scared, or get hurt, or risk your life to help people,"
"I don't know what happened out there on the hunt. I don't know why it's messed you up so badly, but if you don't ever wanna go out again I'll back you up. I won't let Dad push you into this. I don't care what he says, or what it takes. If you don't wanna go, if you don't want to do it, I'll make sure you don't have to." Sam said vehemently, tightening his fists in determination.
"Sam?" Adam whispered.
"Yeah?" Sam answered with surprise, not expecting Adam to say anything.
"Leave me alone."
/-/-/-/
Dean didn't know what the hell happened last night between his brothers while he and Dad were out playing pool, but whatever it was, it was bad enough that they now weren't speaking to each other and had cloaked the room in a miserable, tense silence.
Dad left on interviews early, right after morning PT, laying out instructions for each of them for the day. Adam was back to his full training schedule, which meant sparring and weapons training with Dean and lore and research with Sam. And since the youngest two Winchesters weren't speaking, Dean had graciously stepped up to start the day with weapons training instead of research.
"Come on kid," Dean said, grabbing his weapons duffle and heading out the door, hoping he could find a nice secluded spot where he and Adam could practice throwing knives.
Adam was predictably silent on the drive, staring off into space, which seemed to be his new hobby lately.
"Hey kid," Dean said, lightly shoving his brother to get his attention, "You gonna snap out of this or what?"
Adam scowled back at him, "So you too now?"
"Look, I don't know what you're so twisted up about. That hunt went great," Dean said happily. "Killed the bad guy and walked away to tell about it,"
Across the car, Adam sighed.
"Oh, what?" Dean asked, "You aren't really upset that you killed her are you? Come on! Be proud of that shit! I am! You kicked it in the ass!"
Dean glanced over to see his little brother ducking his head to hide the smile Dean knew was growing on his face.
"Come on dude. Whatever is eating at you, just ignore it." Dean advised.
"Are you serious? Ignore it?" Adam asked sincerely, turning to look at him.
"Yeah man." Dean said earnestly, "You bury that shit, ok? That's how you deal. You lock it up and never think about it again,"
"Is that what you do?"
"Yeah. Wax on. Wax off." Dean said, grinning across the car.
Adam stared back at him unsure.
"You'll be fine." Dean assured easily, "First kill is always crazy. But you did it. And you saved Dad's ass in the process. That's nothing to sneeze at."
"Who knows kid," he continued, "Keep it up and you might even become the second best hunter in this family," Dean teased, finally getting a small smile from his youngest brother.
It wasn't long before Dean found a secluded enough spot for their training and he was glad to say that his little pep talk before their session had seemed to lighten Adam's mood considerably. And on top of that Adam was finally making some progress with the throwing knives. The kid had a decent aim, but he'd been having trouble getting the knife to land in the target, instead of smashing against it and clattering to the ground.
"Well if you don't stab the guy, you'll at least knock him out," Dean joked, picking up another knife off the forest floor where he and Adam had stationed to practice.
"Why do I suck so badly at all this?" Adam asked.
"You don't kid," Dean said, walking back and handing him the knife, "You're still new at it,"
"No I'm not Dean," Adam said taking the knife and twisting it around, playing with the grip, "I've been with you guys for over a year now. I should be better. You and Sam were probably never this bad."
"Come on, you ever seen a 9-year-old try to hit one of these?" Dean teased.
"Yeah, 9-year-old," Adam said, gloomily.
"Jeez," Dean said rolling his eyes, "Could you lighten up a little kid? It's like living in a damn Hallmark movie with you lately,"
Adam scowled at him and looked down at the knife.
Dean stared at the top of his little brother's head, contemplating his next move. With Sam, it would be the time to sit down and have the heart to heart. Sam always needed that, he needed to talk about what he was feeling and get everything out of his system. Dean wasn't so sure Adam was like that though. Adam seemed to have a little more of Dean's 'man up and shut up' mentality about him, which was a little surprising since he grew up with Kate and not John. Dean had figured it was just Dad's natural gruffness that made Dean not want to talk about his feelings, but maybe it was an inherit Winchester trait.
"Come on, let's get some pie," Dean said suddenly, grabbing the knife from Adam's hands and walking over to grab his weapons duffle from the ground.
"Pie?" Adam asked in surprise.
"Yeah. Pie." Dean answered like it was the most obvious answer to the problem.
"Or what? You want cake?" Dean offered, pausing as he walked towards Adam.
Adam stared at his brother, confused and contemplating his answer. He knew Dean was working hard to help him, trying to lighten his mood and encourage him and it was actually working a little. As much as he wanted to stay angry and moody, wanted to brush off his brother's olive branch, the vulnerability in Dean's eye as he stood asking about cake caused him to think better of it.
"What about doughnuts? Could we get doughnuts?" Adam asked.
Dean instantly grinned with relief, "Hell yes we can get doughnuts. Grab your shit. Let's go,"
Adam had to smile at Dean's enthusiasm and walked over to grab his own discarded bag from the ground. If Dean could put aside all the bad memories he had and find happiness in a little fried dough, maybe Adam could too.
/-/-/-/-
"Hey Sammy! We brought breakfast!" Dean announced as he and Adam walked back into the motel room.
"I thought you guys were training?" Sam asked, watching as they shed their coats and boots by the door.
"This is training," Dean assured him, putting the box of doughnuts on the table and opening it up, "Hunting 101, know where to get the good food in town. Come on, we even got your favorite: Vanilla."
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's teasing but abandoned his stacks of books and papers on the motel bed to come over to the table.
"You making any progress over there?" Dean asked around a mouthful of chocolate glaze, motioning to the mess on the bed.
"Actually yeah," Sam said, leaning over and picking out a plain glazed donut from the box.
"Really?" Adam asked, his curiosity causing him to momentarily forget his self-imposed silence towards his brother.
"Yeah," Sam replied glancing at him, clearly noting that they were once again speaking, "Something weird has been going on in this town, that's for sure. But not our normal hauntings and spirits," he said, taking a bite of the doughnut and walking over to the bed to grab something.
"Check this out," he said handing a paper out to Dean, "Over the last six weeks there have been four reports from local farmers about unusual crop and animal activities. This guy," he said pointing at the paper, "Said that overnight 40 of his cows just dropped dead. Then two weeks later there were three other reports of farmers losing their entire tobacco crop overnight, no sign of fire, or pests or foul play. The plants were just demolished,"
"What the hell?" Dean asked quietly, studying the paper.
"Yeah, and get this," Sam said walking quickly back over to the bed, "There have been unexplainable weather events in the area too, all around the same time: flash flooding with no rain, lightening storms with no clouds, all kinds of bizarre crap,"
"Ok yeah, that's weird," Dean said.
"What does that mean Sam?" Adam asked, feeling a little nervous about the fact that neither brother seemed to immediately know what all this stuff meant.
"I don't know for sure," Sam admitted slowly, looking at Dean.
Dean looked back at him cautiously.
"You think it's the thing that killed mom?" Dean asked carefully.
"Maybe," Sam confessed, "I think Dad might have found the trail,"
Sam and Dean were silent for a moment, staring at each other intensely.
"Why wouldn't Dad say anything about this?" Adam asked breaking the silence, "I mean he's been hunting this thing forever. Why wouldn't he say he's finally found something?"
"Cause it's Dad," Sam said, shrugging off the glare he received from Dean at his statement.
"We don't know, ok kid?" Dean said answering Adam's question, "But he has his reasons. It could be too dangerous..."
"Yeah or he's afraid he's wrong," Sam interrupted.
"Shut up Sam." Dean snapped.
"Ok… so..." Adam started, "So if it is the thing that killed your mom, what does that mean? Is it here? Can we kill it?"
Dean glanced over at Sam and paused, licking his lips in apprehension before replying, "I don't know. We'd have to know what it was before we'd know how to kill it,"
"I'm not sure it matters at this point anyway," Sam said sitting down heavily on the bed, "All these signs stopped about three weeks ago. That's the last record I found of them anyway,"
"So it's gone?' Adam questioned.
"I don't know," Sam replied, "But I bet that's what Dad is out there trying to figure out,"
"What if it's not gone?" Adam asked, feeling a little quiver of terror in his stomach.
"Don't worry kid, you're safe," Dean said, noticing the tremble Adam tried to hide.
"I know! I'm not scared!" Adam fired back, anger and embarrassment quickly replacing the fleeting feelings of fear.
"What should we do Dean?" Sam asked seriously.
Dean was quiet for a long time, breathing deeply and considering their next move.
"Nothing," he said finally, looking from brother to brother, "Dad has this under control. If he needed our help or wanted it, he'd say something. We're gonna pretend we don't know any of this stuff."
"You got it?" He asked, looking pointedly at Adam.
"Why are you looking at me?" Adam questioned in annoyance.
"I mean both of you," Dean said, giving Sam a serious look as well, "We sit on this. Ok?"
Sam sighed, but nodded "Fine. For now,"
"Forever." Dean said firmly, causing Sam to frown at him.
"Look, just eat your damn doughnut alright? You and the kid need to get to work anyway," Dean said, grabbing another doughnut from the box.
"What are you gonna do?" Adam asked as Dean stood up and walked over to the bed that wasn't covered in Sam's research materials.
"Nap." He said, flopping down and taking an enormous bite of the doughnut, "Get to work you two," he smirked, mouth full.
"Gross," Sam said, turning away from him. "I guess we could start with some of this stuff," he said to Adam, pointing down towards the papers on the bed.
"Try again Sammy," Dean mumbled around the remaining half of the doughnut he'd crammed in his mouth, "If dad sees all that," he said chewing and pointing "he's gonna know we know. So wrap it up and teach the kid about witches or something,"
"I already know about witches Dean," Adam grumbled.
"Fine. Start on all the biblical lore, that'll take forever," Dean said swallowing the last of his bite and nestling down into the pillows on the bed, "But keep it quiet. I need my beauty sleep."
"Sleep's not gonna fix that," Sam teased, earning himself a middle finger from Dean who kept his eyes resolutely closed over on the bed, as if flipping Sam off in his sleep.
Sam glanced over at Adam and they exchanged looks for an awkward moment. Sam sat on the bed, watching his younger brother, sitting hesitantly beside a half dozen doughnuts and he wanted to smile. He almost did smile, but then he remembered why Adam had stopped speaking to him and the hurt of being rebuffed when he was only trying to help and the moment was sullied, and Sam had to look away.
"You gonna actually study today or are we gonna fight about it?" Sam asked seriously.
Adam didn't respond immediately but didn't look away from Sam's demanding stare.
"I'll study," he said finally, a challenge lingering in his voice despite his compliant words.
"Good." Sam said simply, letting his gaze drop, "Cause we're gonna do schoolwork too. You don't wanna be behind when we get back in class,"
"That's not what Dad said," Adam protested lowly.
"I don't care what Dad said, you need a real education too," Sam replied.
"I've had a real education, thank you very much," Adam sneered, "Look where it's gotten me,"
"Yeah and if you continue your education you could get out of this place," Sam continued.
"Jesus, you two will you knock it off already?" Dean groused from the bed.
"What are you talking about Sam?" Adam asked, ignoring Dean's protest, "I don't need to get out of anything. This is where I'm supposed to be,"
"Really Adam?" Sam said standing up, his temper flaring, "This is where you are supposed to be? This is where your mom wanted you to be? Don't you think there's a reason that she never went out on the road with Dad? Maybe cause she didn't want this life for you? Maybe cause she wanted you to have better?"
Adam jumped up from the table and shoved Sam as hard as he could. "Don't talk about her!" he screamed.
"She wanted more for you Adam! She wanted you to be a doctor!" Sam yelled, bouncing back from his brother's shove and crowding him, unable to leash the beast of fury and frustration inside him once it had been set loose.
Suddenly Dean was between them, pushing Sam back onto the bed and pulling Adam away from him and toward the door.
"Stop! Stop!" he screamed, grabbing Adam and catching the fist that was headed Sam's way.
"Knock it off!" Dean yelled again, pushing Adam back again and turning to glare at Sam.
"Outside Sam!" he yelled, pointing at Sam with one hand and keeping the other hand firmly on Adam's rapidly rising and falling chest.
Sam glared at him, but bent down and slid on his boots, grabbing his jacket from the end of the bed.
"And you," Dean said, turning toward Adam, "grab a doughnut and go chill out," he said pointing to the couch in front of the tv.
Adam's face was flushed with anger and adrenaline, but he swallowed hard and followed his brother's orders, making a big step around Sam when his brother came close on his way out.
Sam barely had a foot out the door before Dean was on top of him, shoving him forward, causing him to stumble off the sidewalk and into the parking lot.
"What the hell Sam?" Dean yelled, fury lacing his voice.
"He needs to study Dean." Sam said, lamely trying to excuse his temper and the shame of the realization of what he'd just said to his little brother.
"And talking to him like that is gonna help him study huh? What were you thinking?"
"His mom wanted him to be a doctor Dean! A doctor!" Sam yelled, becoming defensive and angry again.
"So?" Dean asked in indifference.
"He won't study Dean. He doesn't care about a normal education all the sudden. Before this last hunt, he was doing well in school. He even wanted to know if getting expelled would hurt his chances at college. Now? Nothing. He doesn't say a word about school or the future. Just nothing."
"And?" Dean asked.
"And! And whatever happened on that hunt has screwed him up! You know it. I know it! He's not the same!" Sam pressed. "And he won't talk about it. And you and Dad keep telling him how great he did and how its part of the job, but can't you see how much more that's messing him up?"
"What are you talking about Sam? The kid is having some bad dreams. It's not a big deal."
"Dean. Come on. Don't do this. Don't look the other way on this one!" Sam begged, "He needs some help! Not just Dad telling him to 'man up' and get over it,"
Dean shook his head and stared at his brother.
"You know what man? What makes you the expert?" he asked, "Yeah, I know you read this... you read that...but why don't you really look at the kid and see what he needs? Maybe he doesn't need to talk. Maybe he just needs to forget for a while. Maybe he's not ready to deal with it yet."
The retort Sam was already building died in his throat, Dean's perceptiveness of their youngest brother shocking him into silence.
"I just want to help," Sam whispered.
"I know you do," Dean said quietly.
"I want what's best for him Dean," Sam admitted quietly, "And after this hunt… I just don't think he should be a hunter."
"Sam…" Dean started.
"Dean listen, really," Sam implored, "You know I don't like hunting, but aside from that…Adam…I just don't know if he has it in him. Look at how his training is going man. Its been over a year and still…"
"Sammy," Dean warned.
"His mom didn't want this for him Dean. I'm not wrong about that." Sam said confidently, changing tactics "She wanted him to be a doctor, to do something important."
"I know you're not saying that hunting isn't important," Dean cautioned.
"No. I'm not. I'm saying he doesn't have to do this. Maybe it's not right for him,"
"Why are you so intent on turning him off hunting Sammy?" Dean asked concernedly, "It's the family business, man. It's what we do,"
"Yeah what we do. But it doesn't have to be what Adam does Dean. He's more normal than us. He can be different. He can have a normal life again,"
"What is your obsession with normal?" Dean asked in frustration. "He's fine!"
Dean shook his head in annoyance with his brother. "Come on Sam. Stop overthinking this. Just let the kid lead his life, let him make his own choices!"
"Yeah, like all those choices Dad is deciding for him?" Sam said cynically.
"He's 13 Sam!" Dean yelled, finally giving in to his own frustration, "Give the kid a freaking minute. He doesn't know what the hell he wants! Dad is just trying to keep him safe,"
"Dad's trying to make him into a killing machine, just like he's done with us," Sam growled.
"Stop putting all your issues with Dad onto Adam," Dean said firmly, "If the kid likes hunting, he likes it. He sure as hell kicked ass when the chips were down. And I for one think his training is going great,"
Sam stared at Dean incredulously for a moment, before a realization dawned on him.
"Dean, you can't keep him safe." Sam said, "Hunting is life and death. Dad says it all the time. It ends bad and bloody. Why do you want that for him?"
"Sam stop being such a drama queen," Dean said, brushing off his brother's sincerity.
"He could be safe. Normal is safe," Sam said quietly.
"Jesus! What is it with you two today?" Deans said throwing up his hands in bewildered frustration, "What are we doing here, a very special Blossom? Just leave him alone Sam," he said, turning on his heels and going back into the motel room, slamming the door behind him.
Sam watched his brother go but didn't follow despite the cold that was seeping through his coat.
Why couldn't Dean see that Sam was trying to save their brother? Why would he let Adam keep hunting, keep leaping into danger that could get him killed?
Fury began to rise inside Sam as he stood motionless in the icy motel parking lot. Dean was always touting how Sam and Adam were his job, his number one responsibility, and yet he kept encouraging Adam to hunt, to keep self-sacrificing, to keep pushing down his feelings. How was that taking care of the kid?
The more Sam thought the angrier he became. It was one thing for Dad to force Adam into hunting, but for Dean keep confirming the indoctrination was more than he could stand. Adam practically worshiped his older brothers, Dean especially. Despite the rocky start they'd had in the beginning when Adam first joined them, Adam and Dean had become incredibly close over the past few months, close enough to admittedly create some jealousy for a newly middle brother. They shared a similar sense of humor and Adam seemed to be more willing than Sam to embrace Dean's perpetually nonchalant attitude toward their lifestyle. Although he still relied more on Sam for emotional support, at least until recently, Sam knew Adam held Dean's word above his own. Whether that was part of his brainwashing into the military hierarchy Dad had ingrained in them or simply Adam having more respect or camaraderie with Dean, Sam was unsure. Either way, the whole thing was making him furious with both his brothers.
Dean was right about one thing. Adam would make his own choice about hunting. But with Dad and Dean constantly brainwashing him about how great and important hunting was, Sam wasn't sure his proposal of 'normal' would entice the kid.
Sam just wanted his family to be safe. Was that too much to ask?
He'd already known there was no way he'd ever convince Dean or Dad to stop hunting. Hunting was 90% of Dean's personality and he thrived on it. And Dad's own obsession would never let him rest. Adam was the last flicker of hope that Sam had on keeping part of his family safe from the tragedy that seemed to follow them.
If Adam drank the 'family business' kool-aid and dedicated himself to Dad's mission, Sam wasn't sure what he'd do. He just couldn't hang around and wait for his little brother die the same death he feared for his father and older brother. He wouldn't survive it. He knew he wouldn't. Sam had lived in abject terror all his life of the possibility of living through Dean's death every time his brother left on a hunt. Now with Adam, the stakes were too high. The cost would be more than Sam could pay.
He couldn't take it. Dean meant too much. Adam meant too much. Even Dad. His entire family was single-mindedly racing toward their deaths in pursuit of revenge, and Sam couldn't handle it. He didn't want to.
He didn't want to hunt and kill things. Even the hopes of making the world a better, safer place weren't enough to balance out the fear of losing everything that was important to him.
No.
If Dean continued to follow orders, to brainwash his little brother… If Adam decided revenge was worth more than a real life... Sam was out.
Thoughts of college and the crumpled applications hidden deep in the bottom of his backpack that was probably still locked in his locker back at West Wilson High School filled his mind. At first, he'd wanted to go college to better himself, to learn more and find a career outside of hunting. Then as time drug on and Dad became more drill sergeant than father, Sam found himself seeing college as an escape. Now, standing in the chilly parking lot of the Rest EZ Motel, brown grass growing through the cracks in the pavement, Sam realized that college could be the end of his fear for his family.
Sam had suspected for a while that if he were to announce that he was going off to college, he wouldn't be supported. In fact, he was pretty sure that Dad would take it as an affront to everything he held dear and Sam would be cast out of the family forever. As much as that thought hurt, cut him deep down to his bones, logically he wondered if it might be for the best. If he were to be shunned, to have all family contact cut off from him, then maybe he could mourn their loss and begin to heal. He knew that the grief would live inside of him, just as it already lived inside his father and brothers, but maybe living with the loss would be better than fearing it every day.
"Sam!" Dean called, leaning out the door of the motel room, "Get in here, will you? It's freezing,"
Sam nodded at his brother and shoved down his thoughts, seizing the fear and pain coursing through him and funneling it back into the tight control he kept over himself.
He'd watch his brothers, but he'd make keep making his college plans. He'd have to if he was going to survive.
/-/-/-/-/
EPILOGUE
Timeline: September 2002, Adam is 15 years old. Sam has been gone for two years.
"Hey." Adam said, coming to stand near Dean as he leaned against the Impala, wiping the blood from his knife.
"Hey," he replied not looking up.
"Look, I know I've been an asshole for a while now," Adam admitted to the gravel under their feet, kicking at some of the loose stones.
He felt Dean turn and look at him, but predictably, his brother said nothing.
"I don't mean it, not really," Adam started, struggling to find the words for what he wanted to say, "but…like… you know I still get nightmares after a kill,"
"Yeah I know," Dean scoffed.
"Yeah well… It's not the kill though. I don't want you to think I'm… Look I don't care about those bastards, but sometimes, it's just the blood or whatever… it makes me dream about my mom. About when she died, when I was there…" Adam choked out, staring down at the wet, red-tinged blade in Dean's hands.
Dean abruptly stopped cleaning the weapon and pulled it to his side, shielding it from his brother's view.
"You don't have to…" Dean started softly, watching Adam's young face.
"No. No. I know," he said, taking a steadying breath, "But I'm a jerk and I figured you deserve to know why. Maybe you won't get mad at me,"
"I'm not mad at you, kid," Dean said sincerely.
Adam grunted, "You should be. I'm an asshole," he joked.
"Join the club man," Dean replied with a smile and shrug.
Adam tried to smile, but it was weak and he couldn't complete the gesture, "Well, sorry if I wake you up tonight,"
"'S alright man," Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Adam looked back down into the gravel pensively, "I wish I could tell Sam,"
Adam heard Dean's breathe catch in his throat at the discomfort of the still aching wound their brother's departure had left within him.
"He was so nice to me when it first started happening, after that hunt with the shifter, you remember that?" Adam asked.
"Yeah…" Dean replied quietly.
"He just kept trying to help me and talk to me. And I was such a little dick to him," Adam said quietly, remembering his young hurt and confusion.
His brother was silent next to him, lost in his own thoughts of Sam and their last exchange.
"I wish I could apologize," Adam said, more to himself than to Dean.
Dean didn't respond and the silence hung in the air between them until Dean cleared his throat roughly and stood up, walking around the car and opening the trunk, throwing in the knife and the rag he'd been using to clean it. Adam stood up from where he was leaning as well, following Dean to throw his own sticky knife in the trunk.
Dean shut the trunk with a heavy thud and walked around, opening the car door and sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Adam wasn't offended by the silence; he hadn't expected his brother to say anything. It was just another part of not having Sam around anymore, something that had become familiar, but never comfortable.
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A/N- And that's the end of the case fic! Back to your regularly schedule angsty one-shots! :) Hope you all liked this one and it was a worthwhile ending to a long one-shot series. Let me know what you think and if you have some ideas!