2002
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Supernatural, or sadly Dean and Sam Winchester (or John Winchester but, no offence, I'm not so disappointed by this one). I sadly don't even own Starbucks, which is mentioned briefly in this chapter. Dean, Sam and Starbucks…All I want for Christmas
"Hey, Dad, look sorry for leaving with no notice but I found a gig in Washington, that was pretty urgent so I had to leave as soon as possible, which just happened to be in the middle of the night. It's just a poltergeist, though, really pissing some woman off, so you don't need to come down or anything. Ok, anyways, just wanted to tell you. Bye," Dean finished leaving the message on his father's cell as he saw the big green sign reading 'Stanford University- 15 miles'.
"Jesus, must be some really classy school if it's pretty much considered a landmark," Dean joked to himself.
He was really just trying to calm himself down, though, for two reasons. One, if he had a bad feeling that his father may look into that lie about a gig in Washington and assume where he was actually going; he knew Dean well enough that he usually didn't just leave in the middle of the night. That was Sam's job Dean thought angrily to himself. That was the second reason he was so worried.
He had no idea what he was going to say to Sam. He was still so pissed off at him for leaving, and just as jealous that he got to get away. The past year had been especially tough; Dean and his father had never noticed just how helpful Sam had been on hunts until he left. He hated to admit it, but he really missed his little brother. Though if Dean ever even mentioned Sam in front of their Dad, John Winchester would absolutely snap. But Dean knew that John was just afraid for Sam, also knowing full well that he had checked up on him more than once, though never bringing Dean along as he didn't want him to know about these little detours.
This was all way too much for Dean to process at the moment, so he just blasted his Metallica tape and sped down the road to Stanford.
God, she's beautiful Sam thought to himself as he stared at the smiling blonde across the room. Her name was Jessica Moore and it had been love at first sight the moment he saw her on his first day at Stanford. Sadly, she, as many beautiful women are, was taken. Her boyfriend's name was Jack Ellis; he was a star player on the football team, and a really smart guy. And he was just an all-around nice guy-, which made Sam hate him even more.
"Sam,
Earth to Sam!" his best friend at the university, Zach waved his
hand in front of Sam's blanked out face. "You do realize class is
about to start, don't you?"
"What? Oh, yeah, right," Sam
responded, coming off Cloud 9. But he still never took his eyes of
Jessica.
"Man, you know she is way out of your league, don't you?" Zach said, following Sam's gaze to the source.
"Yeah, yeah I know. But its nice to dream," Sam did know he had no chance, and any hint of one was completely stomped over as Jack sat down next to Jess, whose smile widened at the sight of him, and stayed plastered to her face as she gave him a kiss hello. A wave of anger passed through Sam's body, and he suddenly noticed he had snapped the pencil in his hand.
"Whoa, there, buddy. Calm down. God you really must have it bad for that girl," Zach said as he handed Sam an extra pencil.
"Yeah, I guess so," Sam responded as the professor walked into the room and class began.
"Holy shit!" Dean said to himself as he looked around the campus of Stanford University. It was huge, much bigger than Dean could've even imagined. He just couldn't believe that Sam of all people actually went to this school.
He looked quickly at the letter Sam had sent him, naming the address he was staying at. Sam had sent him a couple of letters since his departure, a lot saying 'I'm sorry' or 'It's not you that I'm mad at, Dean'. But after Dean never responded, Sam stopped writing. But his last had given the address and phone number he could be reached at, which was very helpful now.
After arguing with himself whether he should actually go through with it or not, Dean finally decided not to be a coward and knocked on the door to the apartment. After no one answered, he tried the doorknob, which was strangely unlocked. Sam definitely must not be living alone, because if he were he'd know better than this. And Dean was right about that as he walked into the currently abandoned, but messy as ever apartment. There were a couple of rooms, all in different states suggesting that different people lived in each. Dean went into the cleanest room first, and his hunch that it belonged to Sam was right. The walls were pretty much barren, and there really wasn't that much to the room but a bed, a desk with loads of textbooks and papers, and a dresser and mirror. Dean knew that there wasn't much for Sam to take with him anyways, but felt bad all the same as he saw that all of Sam's roommates had many pictures and awards and certificates strung across their walls. As Dean was taking in his brother's room, he heard the front door open and two voices carrying on a conversation.
"I just can't believe the year's almost over…I mean, we're going to be sophomores here next year, I can't wait!" the first voice said.
Hearing the next voice felt like a blow to the chest as Dean heard the familiarity of his younger brother, "Yeah, I haven't really thought about it that much. I've mostly been focusing on the finals…"
"Jesus, you are so uptight! I mean, you actually came to this school to learn, didn't you!"
At this Dean heard his brother laugh and respond, "Well, unlike you, I had to work my ass off to get a scholarship to even get into the school."
"Point taken," Sam's friend responded.
Dean felt it was about time he showed himself, as he knew that if he didn't soon, he would completely chicken out on even confronting Sam. Slowly, Dean stepped out of Sam's room into the main living room of the apartment where Sam and his friend were.
"Hey there, little brother," Dean tried to cover up his nervousness with a cocky voice. His brother, whose back had been to Dean, turned around and just stared, his eyes widening.
Sam's friend had a fairly similar reaction, but for different reasons. Thinking that Dean was a burglar, his friend ran towards the phone to dial 911, but Sam stopped him. "Wait, Zach, he isn't a burglar. This is Dean," Sam said to his friend. His words tried to reassure himself as well. Is Dean really here? Sam thought to himself.
"Wait, your older brother Dean? The one you haven't-" Zach started.
"Yeah, this is him," Sam cut him off.
"Well, sounds like you've been telling your friends about me. I'm flattered, really, Sammy," Dean said sarcastically, only imagining what his brother had said about him to his friends, what with the great terms they left off on and all.
Sam didn't really seem to know what to say. He was in such shock that Dean was there. After the way they had left things, and then Dean failing to respond to a single one of his letters…Sam had begun to worry that they'd never see each other again. Finally, Sam turned to Zach and asked, "Hey, do you mind if I talk to my brother in private?"
"Yeah, sure, man. I'll leave you guys alone," Zach said, making his way to the door.
"Thanks, Zach," Sam said, if only to just have something to say. He turned to his older brother who looked equally awkward.
"So…do you have any beers?" Dean finally asked.
"I'm 19," Sam responded.
Dean actually laughed at the familiarity of his little brother. "Sam, you really are a loser." Sam smirked, but was still in too much shock to really find any humor in his brother's jokes.
"Dean…what
are you doing here?" then Sam thought of an even better
question, one he thought he knew the answer to, "Does Dad know
you're here?"
Dean really didn't know how to respond,
except with, "Well, look; first off, no, Dad does not know I'm
here," as he spotted the monotone look on Sam's face he finished,
"but I guess you already knew that. And second, we really need to
talk."
"You really couldn't have just responded to one of my letters?" Sam enquired.
"This is more of a face-to-face talk. And I can't say I was really in the mood to answer your little letters for awhile," Dean told him, pleased by the slightly guilty look on Sam's face. "Look, okay, truth is Dad and I need your help."
"Dad needs my help? He doesn't even know you're here! And if he did know, he sure wouldn't want you to be asking me for help. If there's one thing I know about John Winchester, it's that he doesn't accept any kind of help from anyone. Especially his youngest son who he just happens to be in a fight with right now."
"Sam, I don't freaking care that Dad won't admit it, I'm admitting it for him, he and I need your help! I mean, come on, man, you've got to admit we made a great team. Dad and I would fight the little bastard and you'd give us any stuff you read in those books of yours that could help us find its weakness. Without you, we can still do the fighting, but it's just not as easy."
At the unconvinced look on Sam's face, Dean told him, "Sammy, come on, you know that I'm like Dad, and I never ask for help. Do you really think I'd be asking for help if I didn't need it?"
Sam seemed to process this before saying, "So, let me get this straight, you're asking me to leave college -which, by the way, I'm still only in my first year of- and you want me to do this so I can go back to doing something I absolutely hate, am I right?"
Dean couldn't believe his ears. Sam may not have said it in so few words, but Dean knew that that last statement was pretty much his refusal to help, to come back to Kansas with him- and continue the 'family business'.
Dean was about to respond when a very preppy looking blonde haired man entered the room with two cups of what appeared to be Starbucks coffee. "Hey Sam, just came back from the worst exam of my life! And though you didn't have to endure that pain, I felt the need to be nice and get you a mocha frappucino, that's what you like, right?" The preppy looking man, who appeared to be Sam's roommate, handed Sam the cup, not even noticing Dean sitting on the couch.
"Okay, mocha frappucino?" Dean snapped at his brother, immediately turning the preppy roommate's attention to Dean, but Dean ignored the roommate's confused looks as he continued, "You know what, Sam? I guess I made a mistake, you really have changed. Have a nice life." And with that Dean walked out the door, but Sam wouldn't let him get away that easily.
"Dean, Dean!" Sam yelled as Dean's pace quickened, trying to get back to his car as quickly as possible. But Sam ran, and eventually caught up with him, making him stop.
"Dean…" Sam stopped as he caught his breath, when he finally was able to talk he said, "Look, it's a Friday, I can come back with you now."
"But then you're going to have to come back here on Monday, right Sam?" Dean responded, disappointment dripping from his words.
"Well, yeah, I mean I have classes. But summer's soon, and after finals I can come right back home-"
"And again, Sammy, you're going to have to eventually leave. When I said we needed you, I meant the full deal, we need you home for good. Not for a couple of days here and there," Dean told him.
"Dean, a couple days here and there is the best I can give you," Sam muttered, feeling sick to his stomach as he said the words. "But, after I finish the four years, I can come home for good!"
Dean actually laughed at this, though humor was not the reason behind it. "Four years, Sam? Are you kidding? By then, Dad or I- hell, both of us maybe –could be dead. And all because you need your little normal life diversion." Sam looked like Dean had socked him, which actually made Dean feel really good. "Well, I hope you have a fun time with your life, because if you're going to have that apple pie life, I don't think you're going to want Dad or I in it. Bye, Sammy," Dean said as he walked away, and this time Sam didn't stop him.
As Sam walked back into his apartment, he honestly had never felt worse in his life. He lay down on the coach, and covered his head with a pillow, something he used to do when he was a little kid and he just wanted the whole world to disappear.
But sadly this was not an option for Sam as his roommate who had witnessed the fight, Aaron, came and sat down on the opposing coach which minutes ago Dean had been sitting on.
"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Aaron said, "For interrupting, as well as for the break up. It seemed pretty bad. It was a bit surprising for me, really, I didn't know you were gay!" Aaron finished, going from comforting to his trademark dumbness.
But Sam didn't even respond to him as he made his way into his room, locking the door behind him and actually falling asleep, wanting to forget the whole, awful day had happened.
Four years later, a 26-year-old Dean sat with his 23-year-old brother looking over newspapers in their dingy motel room, trying to find a new case they could look into. While Dean looked over the newspaper clippings intently, Sam just stared at them blankly; thinking back on that fight he and his brother had just those few years ago. Sam didn't know what exactly had brought on that specific memory, and he was very surprised to hear himself say, "Hey, Dean? You remember that time when I was in my first year of college and you came and visited me?"
Dean looked quite taken aback by this question; he even had the slightest look of sickness at the mere memory of it. "What the hell made you bring that up?" he asked.
"I- actually, I have no idea. I was just thinking about it," Sam responded honestly.
"Well, okay then," Dean said, getting over the initial shock of his brother's randomness, "Yeah, I remember it. What about it?"
At this point Sam was really regretting his choice to bring up this reminiscence. But he figured that he must've been thinking of it for a reason in that messed up head of his, so he said, "Did you really come just because you and Dad needed my help?"
Just when he thought he had been shocked enough for one night, Sam delivered another blow. Dean's first reaction was to lie his ass off to his younger brother, but then something made him rethink that decision, "You want the truth, Sam?" At the nod of Sam's head, Dean continued, "Yeah, that is the reason I came." He paused as he saw the look of contempt on Sam's face and then finished, "But it's not the only reason. Look, we really did need your help, I'm not going to deny that. But I also remembered that, on the night you left, I never actually got around to congratulating you."
"You didn't congratulate me when you came to visit, either," Sam reminded him.
"Yeah, well, you didn't exactly give me the chance to. Look, I was pissed off as hell that you left. I mean, in my mind you were abandoning the family-" Sam looked like he was about to argue but Dean stopped him by saying, "I figured out that you weren't. And I was going to tell you that, but I just never got the chance. When I saw you and your new college-boy lifestyle, and preppy friends, and your stupid Starbucks coffee, all my anger from back then just came back, and I guess I sort of snapped."
There was an awkward silence between the two brothers until Sam said, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you really made me feel completely guilty about myself when you left. I couldn't even defend myself when Aaron- the preppy guy with the coffee –thought I was gay, and that fight with you had been a break up." Sam smirked in spite of the tense moment, and Dean even laughed a little.
"Well, I feel the need to end this little tear-jerker moment before I feel the urge to hug you, or something," Dean joked.
"Yeah, subject dropped, I promise," Sam said, laughing.
They had gone back to researching for a couple more minutes before Dean suddenly broke the silence, "Wait, just before we forget about this completely, he thought we were gay! The man with the pink shirt thought I was gay?"
Sam laughed as he said, "Well, let's just say that Aaron got in with money, not brains." And Dean, though still looking disgusted, finally went back to looking for their next case.
A/N: Hey, okay, let me just start with the usual by saying, again, thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! I love you guys with all my heart! XOXO to all of you! And also, personally, I didn't love this chapter too much. I'm not sure what everyone else thinks, but I just didn't think it was the strongest; though it may've been the best I could do with the plotline I was planning for it. But I didn't dislike it until I had finished writing 5 pages of it, and no offence but I am too lazy to redo that, even for you guys, lol. So please go easy on me, I know its not the best, but I did try, believe it or not. Also, I've rewritten a lot of the dates as I got a lot of complaints saying they weren't right. I didn't change Sam to being nine when he got the .45, because I just did that for what I felt was best for my story, but I did change the years because I found out Sam is 23 in the pilot, not the age of 22 that I thought as I wrote this whole story. So hopefully that should be right now, and thanks so much everyone for telling me how stupid I am. Ok, well I was going to write something else but I don't remember, so more later