May 1991
The door to Sam's room burst open as he barreled in, fueled by excitement. "Sully!", he exclaimed, "You were right! I put all my courage in one big pile, just like you said, and told Dad I didn't want to play softball just because him and Dean do, and he said I don't have to! You know what? He asked me what I want to to do!"
"Way to go, buddy!" Sully praised his charge, holding up his hand for a high five that Sam had to jump to reach. "So what did you tell him?"
Sam's smile was giddy. "I...I didn't know what to say," he admitted. He had spent so much time sulking about being certain of hearing no, that he hadn't allowed himself to imagine what might follow hearing yes.
Now, however, the floodgates opened, his mind awash with possibilities. Sully smiled broadly as he listened to Sam ramble about magic, and plays, and computers, fresh bursts of excited words gushing from him with each new idea that struck him.
"Whoa Sam, take a breath." Sully interrupted when Sam was no longer completing thoughts before distracting himself with the next fanciful dream. He took Sam by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. "That all sounds so great. And do you know what the best part is? You've got your whole life to make all those dreams come true."
Downstairs John was preparing to leave. "Sam's not going with you?" Mary asked, wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she emerged from the kitchen.
"Nah," Dean announced loudly, bounding down the stairs three at a time before John could answer, "little freak's up in his room talking to himself."
"Dean Winchester, walk inside the house!" she scolded.
"I'm already outside," he answered over his shoulder, bolting out the door.
John laughed softly and then turned to see the sour expression on his wife's face. "He says he doesn't want to play this year." he quickly changed the subject, "I don't think we should try to force him."
Mary had to agree. "My father tried to force me to...follow family tradition, and..." she faltered realizing she had no good way to end a sentence that she shouldn't have started. She was saved by the blare of the Impala's horn from the driveway. "OK," she laughed with relief, "you'd better get Dizzy Dean out there to the sign-ups before he gets tired of waiting and leaves without you."
John kissed her cheek and hurried out the door, half afraid that Dean would do just that.