Turning Points - 6

Disclaimer: Nothing 'Supernatural' belongs to me. I've just borrowed and not for profit.

Summary: A series of snapshots about turning points in the lives of the Winchesters

Author's Note: This is the sixth in what has become a series of snapshots of the Winchesters – A look at some of Dean's life changing decisions. I have backtracked a little and so replay some of the events in the previous chapter from Dean's point of view. This ended up being longer than intended and about fewer events (which may not be a good thing).

I apologise to those people who were hoping I would update quickly - it took me a bit longer to get this chapter sorted into a form that would work (and I was distracted by a couple of other stories that would not leave me alone until I had them down) and then when I had got this one written, my computer went on strike and refused to believe it was allowed to connect to the internet. I have already started chapter 7 so hopefully that will be up in a couple of days.

Thank you to those people who have reviewed so far. It really helps me keep going...

Please continue to review. Let me know does this chapter actually work or is my feeling of discontent with it right! Maybe this is the downfall of longer pieces – I felt the same way about the last chapter.

Turning Points – Dean

Dean knew that he hadn't always got the balance right growing up, that sometimes, he'd just felt baffled by a growing Sammy, unable to remember being like that himself. He'd put it down to Sammy not having a mother's influence in his life. Someone else watching would have told him he was right, he hadn't been like Sammy, but that it was Dean who had missed the mother's influence more. Sammy may not have had a mother but Dean had grown up quickly and tried to fill in the blanks in his younger brother's life, protecting him and taking the blows life threw at them, sheltering his brother.

Dean had loved school. In the early days, he had been shy and reluctant to talk, but he had a keen mind and had worked hard and done all that teachers asked and needed him to and had been popular with classmates. Then his father had begun to move him and his brother around the country, never stopping for long in one place and he had stopped going to school for a while. One day, he'd been particularly bored and had actually said to his father that he wished he could go back to school. He'd been surprised by the shocked look on his father's face, only years later, thinking back had he realized that John Winchester had moved them on and on forgetting Dean should be in school in his immersion into the hunt. The following day, Dean had been at a new school; new teacher, new classmates and working to catch up.

Dean's mind was still keen, so like a sponge, he had soaked up all the knowledge that was put his way. Over the years, it became more and more difficult to balance his home life with the needs of school. Constant moving made it harder to make friends and over time, it hardly seemed worth it when he knew he would be dragged away again. Fitting in assignments once he started hunting with his Dad was a problem but he had learnt to quash the nausea he felt reading in the car so that he could get most of his work in on time.

The part he hated most of all was the looks people gave him. Each time he started a new school, he got the 'there goes the new kid look', it would be followed by the 'there's the poor kid, look at the state of his clothes' and the worst look of all the 'god, what must go on in that kid's home, have you seen his bruises' look. He'd lost track of the conversations with Children's Services and Counselors who tried to get him to confess to the terrible things that were being done to him at home. At each new summons for a talk, Dean would brick up another part of his shell. He remembered when he'd first wanted to tell someone what went on at home, someone who might be able to make it stop, but then they'd started to talk about taking him and Sammy away from Dad. Later he'd always thought Fate had dealt him a rare lucky reprieve that day, that the woman in question, had started to tell him how he and Sammy could be protected from Dad, before he had told her anything about what was happening and whilst she had gone on and on, he had made up the first of the lies that he would tell to protect his father. Dean knew that there was no way they could make Dad stop this life of hunting for the thing that had killed his mom and so he'd said nothing about what was really happening, after all Dad wasn't doing anything wrong. Later when they got too persistent in their digging to find out what sort of abuse he and Sammy were suffering, he would tell his Dad it was time to move on, never mentioning that he'd been summoned yet again. It was the only way Dean could figure out to keep his family whole.

He knew he'd made some crap decisions as he'd grown, times when he'd been so wrong about what Sammy needed he couldn't bare to think about them, but he could never forget them or forgive himself. He had never intended any harm to come to Sammy but there were times when he'd turned his back for just a minute to turn back and find his brother lost, hurt, crying or angry. He always just got it wrong, something good turned sour. Illicit trips to the park that had resulted in cuts and bruises or worse, falls and breaks. Attempts at cooking that left Sam with burnt fingers. A shopping trip during which Sammy had wandered away and Dean had spent an hour trying to find him. Failures that would haunt Dean as he had endangered Sammy, disappointed his father again and again and let down the memory of the promise made to his mother.

As he'd got older, he'd begun to think about life away from the hunt. He'd been fascinated at the possibilities out there. So he had reached his last year at school and teachers were talking about decisions and futures. They'd talked about universities and further studying, Dean had been swept up in the thought of it all and had begun to read the brochures he was given.

Arguments at home had increased as Dean had studied harder, neglecting chores and weapons practice when his Dad wasn't around, only to be found out when his Dad returned. Dean had pushed Sam harder to do well in school and to take the advantages that were there, trying to impress on him how important learning was.

Realization of the cost had dampened his spirits and he had begun to decline the help with applications that he was offered, he knew he wouldn't be able to get that sort of money: University was out of his reach. Then one teacher had caught on to some of the reasons he might have changed his mind and had shown him possibilities that were accessible – ways of getting scholarships, other courses that tied in with jobs so he could work and attend night classes, she tried everything to entice him into something more than just leaving school to any old dead end job or worse, unemployment. He'd smiled and taken the information but hadn't committed himself to anything. She'd taken a drastic step then and called his father, explaining the possibilities for someone so bright. John Winchester had been quiet and controlled on the phone, although she was under no illusions that he thought she was prying in something that was none of her business. She knew the phone call had been a mistake.

That night, Dean had arrived home after working his part-time job, and had been surprised to find that Sammy had already eaten and was finishing up homework in their shared bedroom. His father was still home and not out on a job which was another less pleasant surprise. 'Dean,' the voice was quiet but Dean could recognize the controlled anger, 'Sit down, we need to talk.'

Dean walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, he looked round trying to avoid his father's eyes, while he tried to work out what he'd done wrong. 'I had a phone call from the school today.' The shock in his son's eyes as they snapped up to look at him had astonished John.

'Why? What did they want? I haven't done anything, or... or said anything Dad. Honestly, I wouldn't... Those bruises last week, they didn't even ask me so I haven't said anything…'

'Why would they have phoned me about bruises?' even now Dean was surprised that his Dad hadn't realized how often he had had to account for the unusual bruising and cuts that were often evident on both his own and his brother's bodies, how many years he had protected his Dad from knowing that people thought he abused his boys, the lies he had told to avoid telling people what really happened and to protect his Dad from false accusations.

Head drooping, Dean rested both elbows on the table and sunk his head into his hands. 'What have I done wrong?' his voice unsure.

'Is there something that you should have told me before now?' the tone was cold and accusatory.

Dean's eyes came up to look at the fury in his father's face. He had no idea where the conversation was heading. His father slammed the university brochures down on the table. Dean swallowed slowly. 'It's alright Dad. I know we can't afford it, I haven't applied yet, but a teacher gave me this' and reached round to his backpack to pull out the information about scholarships and the information about night classes.

'Money' the explosive retort stopped Dean from saying anything further, 'You think this is about money…Stupid… Dean, you are a selfish little shit… It isn't about the money… You have responsibilities… What are you planning on doing about Sam while you go off to god knows where?'

Dean looked down at the table, ashamed, he hadn't thought of Sammy at all whilst talking to the teachers. Dad was right he was a selfish shit. 'And to get a teacher to phone me to try and coerce me into letting you go, that really is low, boy. Do you think it will make any difference?'

'I...I hadn't thought, I didn't know they were going to call and I'm sorry I hadn't thought about Sammy but maybe you and Sam could live near whichever place I go then I can still take care of him when I'm not… I could get a job and earn some money.'

'What? I've waited all this time for you to finish school and you think we can all just mosey on down to some new place while you carry on. Sure I hoped we'd have found the demon that killed your mother but we haven't, so surely you can see it's time you started to pull your weight around here and helped out with more of the hunting. You've got the education you need; it's all a waste of time when you could be doing something important with your life.'

'But Dad… I could do these courses and then I could support us. I could earn us some real money. Not like the crap wages they pay me for stacking shelves. We could have a home, Sammy could settle down get some real friends and finish school and…'

'I'm not going to listen to this crap. You have finished with school. Once this is over, it's time you started pulling your weight. You are going to start helping me properly and looking out for Sam. You owe it to your mother, Dean.'

'Yes sir.'

Dean knew defeat. He knew he had made the promise to his mother and that was something he could never willingly break. He picked up his bag and headed off to bed. Dad had made it clear this was it as far as school was concerned. Dean opened the door to the bedroom and saw Sam put his pen down and turn to look at him. 'You okay? He was in a foul mood when I got home. I thought it was odd he'd made me something to eat. He just told me to hurry up with it and then to stay in here and finish my work. I didn't know what else to do. He sounded pretty angry. What was it?'

'Nothing important Sammy. Look I've had a long day. I'm going to crash. Can you manage with the sidelight?'

'Course, but what about that assignment you were working on? Doesn't it have to be in tomorrow? Have you eaten?'

'Too tired Sam. Leave me be.'

It was the last time school was mentioned in reference to Dean. He got up in the morning, drove Sam to school, making an excuse to his brother about being too sick and going home again. He'd driven home again to face his father.

'What are you doing back from school?'

'No point being there. Do you want me to do anything here?'

'What do you mean no point in being there?'

'You said it Dad, last night. I've got the education I need and it's time I started pulling my weight.'

'What? That's not what I meant. You can finish up this year, then …'

'No point.'

'Dean.'

'I don't want to be there anymore. I don't want to keep slogging all out trying to get assignments in by the deadlines, staying up till all hours because we've been out hunting. Trying to fit in the job, looking out for Sam, helping you. What's a bit of paper going to do? I'm not exactly going to be getting the sort of job where it matters, am I?' He turned to leave.

'Dean. Wait!' He stopped but did not turn back to face his father. 'Look at me,' when Dean didn't turn, John carried on, 'I didn't mean for you to not finish this year, but University, that's a whole different deal and we can't do that right now, you know, maybe, when we've found the demon…'

'No.'

'Why?'

'Because you were right. I've been a selfish shit. I promised you and mom that I would look out for Sam and I've not been doing that properly. I kept thinking about what I wanted, not what he needed.' John moved across the room to put his hand gently on his son's shoulder, as Dean carried on speaking, 'Anyway, we need the money, Sam's growing again and he needs new clothes. One of us needs to bring in some real money, regular money, not just what we can get from hustling. Dad, it's our responsibility, I know that. I'm sorry. I won't let you down again.'

'Dean, we can manage until you graduate,' he spoke quietly, regretting the previous night's argument, regretting the earlier choices that had led to Dean reaching this point with none.

'Dad, let me do this. It's better this way.'

'Why Dean?'

'Because I don't want to watch everyone else applying and getting accepted. Because I don't want to have to justify myself to the teachers who keep pushing for me to apply. Because I don't want to face every day that I can't have it, the dream. This is my path, let me make the choice when to start it; don't make me face the fact that if things were different, it's not what I would choose. If mom were alive, we wouldn't live like this, we wouldn't do this, I could have this dream, but she isn't, so I don't get the dream, that's it. I know I'm being selfish but at least this way I can do the right thing.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Yeah. I know. Me too,' picking up the car keys Dean had headed off for the door.

'Where are you going?'

'To see if I can pick up some work. Maybe I can get a better job. You don't need me for anything do you? I'll swing by and pick up Sam after school. If I can't make it, I'll call you and you can run by for him.'

'OK, son.'

Decision made, path chosen. It doesn't matter whether the choice is made willing or not, the turning point when reached marks the end of one part of a journey and the beginning of the next. Some choices are made for selfish gain, others in self-sacrifice. Some people have a path laid before them that is easy to follow and clearly marked, whilst others follow a rocky trail along which they must stumble, at times unwilling.

Author's Note: I hope that both Dean and John seem believeable in this chapter. My intention is not to make John into a bad guy but to tie in with the person in the earlier chapter who made some bad decisions on how to handle his sons and bad choices along the way but someone who did care for his children. I hope that is what I've done.