Turning Points - 7

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 seventh in a growing 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 chapter 5 from Dean's point of view

Please review. I hope you all like it.

Turning Points – Dean

Dean knew it was coming. He'd seen it coming four years previously. He'd made sure that Sam would have a real choice. He'd hated every minute that he'd thought about what it would really mean and so he had adamantly refused to think about that part of it. He'd hoped things would work out but he'd known life wasn't going to be that easy. After all, hope was just a mirage.

The day Dean had gone looking for a job instead of going back to school, he'd made a decision that no matter what, Sam would graduate and if he wanted, he would go to university or well, whatever else he wanted to do. Dean wasn't going to let Sam miss out on whichever opportunity came his way.

Four years on, Sam left, headed off to Stanford. Dean was proud. His little brother had done good. Yes, definitely proud, it was definitely the right thing. And the other plus was that now, the arguments with Dad would stop because Sam had gone. It had been hard on all of them, the constant battles. Whilst Sam and Dad had fought, Dean had worked quietly, reasoning with Dad and when that failed, helping Sam make all the arrangements and signing the papers that were needed. It was all good.

Dean stopped the car, looking round he barely knew how he'd got here. He'd just pointed the car away from the bus station where he'd let Sam go and floored it. If he was so proud of Sam and he knew he'd done the right thing, why did he feel so bloody awful now?

'I never actually thought it through,' he said to himself in disgust. 'Sam leaving school and Dad meant he was going to leave me too. Why didn't I think about that?' He dropped his head forward to rest on his hands where they still held the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip.

Life had changed and it hurt like hell.

Gathering himself up, rebuilding his protective shell took him a while but once satisfied that he could hold himself together, Dean pulled off and headed back into town. He parked at home, went in to check on his father and finding no sign of him, left a note before heading out to the bar down the street.

By the time his father joined him, Dean was well on his way to ensuring himself the hangover from hell the following morning and was finding it difficult to keep a tight hold on all the pieces of his shield. 'Oh you're here now are you?' he threw out by way of greeting as John approached.

'Celebrating or commiserating, Dean?'

'What do you care?'

'You don't mean that.'

'Really, Dad. Can you be sure about that? After all, it wasn't me who told him he couldn't come back. It wasn't me who tried to stop him going.'

'Well, maybe that's what you should have been doing, Dean. He should have faced up to his responsibility by now.'

'Oh, don't give me that responsibility shit. It worked with me okay because you made me responsible for him. Who do you want him to be responsible for? He doesn't remember Mom, there's no handy little brother to blackmail him with.'

'Is that what you think I did to you, Dean?'

'God knows. I'm going home. I've had enough.'

'Let me help you,' John reached a steadying hand to his eldest son as he stood and swayed. 'You know he was part of this family, he should have been willing to help us, to back us up. That's all part of being a good son.'

'Good son! Is that really what you mean or do you actually mean good soldier? This isn't a life and we're not a proper family – we could have been, even with mom gone, we could have tried harder to make it right.'

'How Dean? How could it have been different?'

'Less hunting, more normal stuff. Sam would have liked that. Less moving, time to make friends, real friends, ones that meant something. We didn't get that.'

'You had each other.' John is quiet, trying to console and appease his son, knowing that it was his choices that brought the family to this pass.

'Yeah. Look how well that turned out.' Dean's voice is weary and resigned; John takes his arm and guides him up the steps to the front door. 'I'm going to bed.' It's the last thing he says before heading for the bedroom. John watches as he opens the door and stops dead in his tracks, not crossing the threshold, just staring into the room, his room. For the first time, since their home in Lawrence burnt when he was four, Dean has a room of his own and this isn't how he wanted to get it and he doesn't want it now.

'You manage there, sport.'

John gets no reply, but watches as Dean pushes himself off from the door frame and into the room, moving swiftly and for the moment steadily to his bed. John is surprised that he hasn't shut the door behind him, but is even more surprised when he reappears carrying a pillow and the covers from his bed, heading for the couch.

'Dean…'

Hand out to halt both his father's words and his body, Dean says nothing but turns to the couch and throwing the covers and pillows down, he sits to take off his shoes and his shirt before lying down and pulling the covers over as he closes his eyes with fixed determination. John watches as the determination not to re-open his eyes is etched into the lines on his son's face. It takes an age, before his features relax and he actually falls asleep, only then does John get up and go to his own bed. Maybe life without Sam wasn't going to be plain sailing either.

Author's Note: The end of another chapter. Where to next I wonder? Who do we want to see more of? Will get to work on another chapter tomorrow and fingers crossed will post again soon.