Thank you to the few nice people who took the time to leave reviews. Especially TerrysEyes. They feed a hungry writers soul with the food needed to go on. The characters are not mine, I don't own them or any of the songs used. However, should John Winchester become available…
January 24, 2005Redwood City, California
The demon hunting Chevy driving Winchesters pulled up in front of their exiled family members dwelling about thirty minutes to noon. The haggard patriarch exited his truck slowly his limbs were heavy with regret. He would be hard pressed to admit it but he was more on edge about this meeting than Sam was.
John was the father he should have swallowed his fear and pride. Sammy needed to know he was loved. 'Oh hell kid,' the nervous timeworn man thought. John's emotions were running the gambit right now volatile was a good word. His emotions were in a volatile place.
Still he couldn't help but smile as his youngest, now the tallest ran full steam towards his older brother. In a rare show of 'chick flickness' Dean allowed himself be hugged in public, not just any hug either, a bear hug. Dean embraced his moppet haired relation with the same amount of force. He missed Sammy, more than he let on. John would hear parts of their conversations and hate himself for the life he provided.
The normally phlegmatic just turned twenty six year old followed his lapse in cool manly detachment up with a mild punch to the arm. "Sammy if you sing to me, so help me I will beat your ass here and now." Dean said with out anger to his younger brother.
John's college student wasn't fooled; Dean would never actually beat Sam. Oh they rough and tumbled, but actual violence. No that was the bastard father department. Not for the first time that day did John contemplate what a fucked parent he was.
Both his boys, his wonderful strong sons turned to him matching smiles on their faces. He might even go so far as to say they were beaming from ear to ear. John looked his oldest in his hazel eyes making sure he understood just what he meant to relay "Happy Birthday Dean." The heartache filled man hoped his children didn't hear the break in his voice. If they did they were kind enough not to comment on it.
John could see it was getting a little to thick for his birthday boy so he wasn't surprised when Dean the smart mouth made an appearance. "Okay geek boy, are we going to stand out here wool gathering. Or are you going to use those manners I taught you and invite us in?" Dean admonished his brother with a sarcastic smile completely ruining any autocratic effect. John shook his head sadly, 'I taught you.'
Sam laughed a laugh only a younger brother could give at his sibling's attempt at authority. Then he punched Dean back. Through ribbing his brother, Sam turned to John. The father could see his six foot four son trying to keep the fear out of his eyes. Kid was somewhat successful. Although probably no more successful than John himself was.
With a sweeping bow and a horrible English accent Sam said, "If you will sir." Dean met his father's eyes, noting the matching looks of anxiety his father and brother wore. Dean nodded his sincere thanks. Imagine John thought, his boys happy and happy with him. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in ages and it felt good. Damn good.
The travelers followed Sam up to the apartment. John noticed everything including the iron and lead. He also noted the salt lines, salt lines that had been laid around the Winchesters for so many years. Dean had told him they choose this for the protection it afforded. He didn't doubt it was also because it resembled most of the places they had stayed throughout Sam's life plain and humble. Even with their estrangement his youngest son had wanted the familiar around. 'Oh Sammy.'
August 9, 2001Blue Earth, Minnesota
Silently taping his fingers to the music Dean looked out the window, "The road is long without a friend…" This road he was on would be long without Sammy. He missed him already his bookishness and constant pelting of questions about everything under the sun. Hell he even missed Sammy's ridiculous haircut.
"Be my friend, be my brother, across the seven seas of wonder be the guardian of my soul…" 'Oh Sammy.' The older brother thought his throat tight. 'You might have intended the words for me so I would know how much love me. Kid I do. But you are the guardian of my soul. Without you I wouldn't have one.'
"I need somebody, I need someone, I need somebody to call my own…" This was this first time in Dean's life when he wouldn't have someone to call his own. He ran a tired hand over his face not surprised to find tears tracing a lonely path down his cheeks. Dean prided himself on being the stoic type. Even the mighty fall he thought with the heaviest he could ever remember his heart being.
A few minutes later the ravaged demon hunter parked in front of the home of Pastor James Murphy's alone. Alone, he was all alone. There would be no one to talk to, no one joke with, no one to tell ghost stories to in the middle of the night when you woke up with a nightmare. Both brothers had them. Ghost stories were their defense tactic against the dark. 'What would they do now?'
Dean's body felt as if he had been filled with lead as he slowly and painfully exited the 67' Impala. With each step he climbed to the front door of the green house that had been the Winchester sanctuary since angels knew when, his resolve hardened. 'What the hell did Whitesnake know anyhow?' By the time he turned the handle cocky Dean was back.
"Gentleman, I have returned from my trip to the land of sun, babes and books." Dean said with smirk. John sighed he wasn't fooled. He could see Dean's internal struggle. Whenever his first born wanted to mask what he was feeling he resorted to raw humor. When things really got rough he used the time honored skill of deflection.
The dark hair man ran a scared hand over his face, his eyes never leaving his just returned family members face. John observed his older son's mannerisms intently. His son's face was tight and if you looked closely you could see the tear stain's. 'Oh my poor boy, I am so sorry.' The equally stoic father wished he had the nerve to actually say this to his son.
"Did you get him settled?" The widowed man asked his voice gruff, he prayed to Jim's God the fear was masked. They all had their defensive tactics. Dean had learned the fine art of deflection at his father's knee. "Our geek boy is now officially a Stanford University student."
Pastor Jim could see that despite the seriousness of the situation Dean was still proud of his little brother. It broke his heart. The lover of classic rock should have the same chance at Sam. Dean never told Sam or John but he had been accepted at Columbia, Duke and Tufts. If the man had to make an educated guess, the kid who sacrificed much more than his family realized kept the letters in his special sunflower box in his trunk.
"We checked him in. Dad you have no idea the amount of sexy chicks that go institutes of higher learning." Dean watched his Dad's face twist. "Sorry Jim." The kindly Minnesota Pastor smiled at the solider of unfortune. He had known Dean all the kid's life, he hoped one day the road would be done and serenity would be his. Jim knew the young man was in pain, the worst kind. For the cavalier twenty three year old there was no greater blow of pain than that of abandonment.
Dean had worked all his short life to keep his family together. Funny how Sam and John thought Dean was the one who never listen to the Pastors words. They couldn't be more wrong. From the time the steadfast though wiseacre could understand the words he would sit in the back of the church on Sundays and listen to Jim's sermons. The little, the teenaged, the twenty something would always listen intently when Jim talked about the importance of family. "It's alright Dean. You will always be you."
Taking a deep breath Dean continued. "Anyhow, I checked him in. Why is it all school paperwork has to be done in triplicate? Do you know after all the years of filling out his required forms; I thought college would be different. I could not have been more wrong. Stanford actually had more than all the schools the kids attended combined." Neither gentleman sitting listening to the road loving older brother missed the unconscious emphasis on the word all.
"We found him a place. A safe one it's not much to look at from the outside but the insides all right. Don't know what geek boy is going to do with all that space. I would go nuts in a place like that. He liked it though and it passed my checklist. Place is up a flight of stairs and around a corner. The building has loads of good strong iron, just in case." The drained son took this break in his mostly monologue to check his Dad's face. The reiteration of 'just in case' was sitting right there plain as day.
"We laid down a box worth of salt, around the building and inside the apartment." At this point Dean's road traveling attacked his stocky legs. He stretched his body then moved from his place at the doorframe fully into the parlor. Easing himself down on one of the plush teal armchairs he went on. "Before I headed back here to the home of the jolly green giant, I ah. Well I emptied another box, never hurts to be over cautious."
Hoping to cover his slip of bravado Dean pointed to his chest as he continued. "Cause I am a totally cool brother I took geek boy garage sale hunting. Found him a few things to furnish the place. Couldn't have him sleeping on the floor and you both know full well he would have. We found a big bed some nice man struck it rich and decided to sell his king size for a song. Sammy scored. Next place we headed to had the world's comfiest though ugliest reading chair…" John chuckled at that.
Good the exhausted vagabond thought, a chuckle is better than that stone look on his fathers face. Every man in the newly painted sunroom was well aware of Sam, reading and chairs. Because Sam's legs were beanstalk long if he read in a chair with them in front of him, someone would trip over them. So he took to reading sideways with his legs hanging over one of the arms.
"…Kitchen table made out of a nice cherry wood with a couple of matching chairs to go with it. Then I purchased a good ten days worth of food and detailed instructions on how to actually cook. Cause lets face it for all Sammy's brains he can't cook worth shit."
Before John could comment on the language Dean turned to the good man of the Lord. "Am sorry again Jim." The pastor looked at Dean, he helped to raise him. John would never admit to that, if push came to shove, Dean might. 'Oh kid, let the pain out. What have I told you, better out than in.' Besides the pain in the keester was normally very good about minding his manners with him.
"If you want to wash my mouth out, I'll find the soap." Jim smiled at the dirty blond in front of him, understanding in his eyes. "No Dean that is all right. Besides, it didn't work the last time." John guffawed, "I could turn him over my knee." Jim laughed at that, "As I recall that didn't work either." Dean laughed, "No but at least I remembered to apologize."
They all had a good chuckle. Each remembering the day a young Sam ran past Dean and he accidentally dropped a cup on his bare foot. The pain of the glass spearing him through his appendage and the shock of the rapid blood loss caused the newly minted teenager to say 'oh shit.'
John had told Dean the next time he cursed in Jim's house he would turn him over his knee. John had stayed true to his word. It wasn't that he spanked him all that hard it was the embarrassment of being just thirteen and having to receive a spanking. To make matters worse John did it front of Jim, then made Dean apologize.
"So I made sure he had food. Also, spent half a day quizzing him on possible attacks and how he would respond." Dean looked at the two men they all knew there was the big fear. Possible attacks, what would happen, safety was in numbers. Solitary wasn't a number. Knowing that the journeyman was not finished both the flannel glad men who had been listening intently looked back "and" they said in unison.
Dean's checks turned pink. He gazed out the big bay window watching though not reregistering the fact the leaves of the red pine were moving in the breeze. "And I made sure he had emergency money. Left him a hundred in small bills in his wallet." His voice dropped an octave, "Made sure five was hidden in the shotgun hilt which is under his bed, easy to reach…" When he brought his eyes back to John, his father just nodded a simple I understand. 'Well hell.' Dean thought. The plum tuckered man in blue expected an argument over that.
With no warning John stood up. "Am going out." With that the heartbroken father grabbed his worn pea coat from the hat stand and left. Not more than thirty seconds later Dean and Jim heard the rattle of John's old trusty Chevy truck. The retired Marine Corps Chaplin stood and looked out his window. Then he watched his oldest and dearest friend drive away.
When the fifty year old turned around Dean was standing hands in his torn jeans pockets a protective stance he took when trying to subjugate swirling emotion. A lot of good it did him. The wall he normally wore on his face had fallen. All the years of fighting were sitting were the bricks and mortar would have been. The sorrow he was feeling prevalent in his downcast eyes.
Jim did the only thing he could think of. He opened his arms hoping that the kid clad in a blue tattered shirt proclaiming Rock Never Dies and one whom he thought of, as his own family would take the invitation. "Come here Dean." To his amazement the stoic young man embraced him. Then he buried his head in Jim shoulder with a gut wrenching sigh.
The salty haired gentle man held his surrogate son. He rubbed Dean's back hoping to sooth the raging storm in his heart. When Jim heard the chocked sob he rested his head on Dean's. "No matter what you think Dean, you are not, do you hear me NOT alone." Dean half laughed at that. "No boy I don't mean the Lord, I know better than that." He continued to rest his dimpled chin on the young mans dirty blond covered head.
Dean was listening intently he prayed to that Lord that he say the right thing. "You brother is and will always be with you in your heart. I will always be with you in your head. Your father will always be with you on your side." "Okay." Was the quiet reply he received, the sincere doubt in the hunters voice was not lost on the man trying to provide him solace from the big bad world.
Taking a deep bolstering breath the pastor continued, "And one day, please don't argue with me on this boy, you will find someone who will be with you by your side, in your head and in your heart. I know the words love and woman in the same sentence scare you. And don't give me any of that lip about nothing scaring you. Because we both know I know different."
From somewhere near his shoulder Jim heard. "I wouldn't dream of lying to you Jim." Chuckling the pepper haired persevered along, "when you find her, please let her ease the pain. Love of a family is wonderful, but there is something to be said about the unconditional love of a woman." His shoulder region replied, "Yes sir." Disbelief was evident in Dean's hoarse voice.
Jim wished his best friend understood the toll his vendetta for Mary had taken on his boys. It wasn't so much the physical as it was the mental. Sam couldn't handle the running anymore. Dean was afraid to get close to someone for fear of what happened to his father. One day without Dean's consent it would happen. Peace be with Dean and his lady when it did. That would be no easy road. It wasn't about the destination so much as it was about the journey.
Knowing what the breach in emotional disengagement cost the Kansas native the man of the cloth gave him a break. "What do say to make up for your inappropriate verbiage you make this old man some dinner? I just bought some steaks; think you can turn them into a culinary delight?" Dean gradually stepped out the pastors embrace, "Course I can Jim. Ain't nothing in a kitchen I can't do." Jim smiled, "Ain't that the truth."
January 24, 2005Redwood City, California
When the three Winchester men made it to the dingy looking door Sam turned on the funny man charm again. "Welcome to Sam's Diner." In the last two and something hours the institute of higher learning attendee had fixed a lunch certain to quell the hunger of Gods, never mind his mere mortal family.
Kid also made an enormous cake, Oreo no doubt. Knowing Sam and John did, despite what his stubborn one thought, he probably put a whole bag of Oreo's in that cake. Nothing but the best for the bestest brother in the world. His moppet had tried when they made Dean's cake for his ninth birthday. This time there was no Dad to stop his overzealous little one. Okay big little one.
Sam set the table with real linens and all trimmings. The interested parent wondered if they were newly purchased or a gift from Dean. Upon closer inspection the father saw that they were indeed a gift from Dean. John could recall using those same blue and white striped napkins at holidays. His youngest also tacked up one of those shiny metallic looking signs that said Happy Birthday, complete with balloons. John's mind went back to Sam's last birthday before 'the fight.'
May 1, 2001Blue Earth, Minnesota
Dean had found one of those signs at the Juba's Super Value and couldn't resist. His oldest son had been running errands for both the Winchester family and Pastor Jim Murphy. When he returned from his day of the mundane as he called it his grin was in full force. John knew something was up.
"Dean, why are you smiling like a pig that just rooted in sloop?" The shits eyes sparkled a little too bright. "Oh no real reason sir." Sighing he continued hoping to get to the bottom of the why Dean was so chipper mystery. "What have I told you about fibbing to me boy?" Normally this phrase would have given Dean pause or at least wiped the smug grin off his face. Not today apparently. "Not fibbing to you sir. No reason. I am just happy to have finished all my tasks for the day."
Grimacing the concerned father reluctantly asked, "What tasks do you have planned for tonight?" John worried about the local girls. Some strange form of telegraph went out when ever the Winchesters where in town, which was often lately. Jim let them use his house as a home base they weren't on the road. The girls showed up like cats in heat. Dean and woman, he couldn't and didn't want to comprehend it.
He was a one woman man. John hadn't so much as kissed another woman since Mary had died never mind slept with. Truth be told he had never kissed or slept with another woman period, only his beautiful Mary. John shuddered to think the number of woman his son had been with even at his not so advanced years.
One day angels willing his first born would find a woman he could give his heart too. The dark haired father knew his son was afraid that what happened to his Dad would happen to him. Dean figured if you don't care, you don't love, you don't love you don't go off the deep end like John had.
May 2, 2001Blue Earth, Minnesota
The older brother got up early in the morning. Well early for most people late for Dean. He was up and running at 5:00am. Still in his hot tamale boxers and black tee shirt he draped the metallic proclamation of Happy Birthday over Sam's bed. John had cracked open the door and watched from the silent safety of the hallway.
Dean looked up from his tacking of the big Happy Birthday billboard to see his father. He smiled at him a true smile nothing held back, love for his brother shining in his eyes. The dad smiled back, eyes sad. When Dean smiled without reservation it was enough to melt the chains John kept around his heart.
After his eldest had secured the larger than life happy birthday sign he held his dad's gaze. Dean's eyes were twinkling a little too bright. Just like the night previous. John watched in fascination as his January born son pulled a feather out of his bag and brushed it over his younger brother's nose. Sam of course reached up and wiped a hand over the assaulted area, then rolled over.
Hours early he had kicked off the sheets, leaving the bottoms of his feet exposed. Dean slowly moved the feather down the pads of his brother's paws. When he could tell Sam was just about to wake he quick like a bunny joined his father in the hallway. Sam sat up and opened his eyes with a start. The exclamation of his brother's name died on his lips when he saw the sign.
Sam turned to Dean who was standing in the dimly light alcove with a sheepish look on his face. He was in the hallway with his father and Jim who had joined the waiting Winchesters. Sam swallowed. "Thanks Dean. You are the bestest brother in the world." The bestest brother swallowed then smiled kindly, "Nothing but the best for my geek boy on his birthday."
January 24, 2005Redwood City, California
Dean bowed his head his heart was near bursting, when he brought it back up; he tackled his brother with a great humph. John watched his boys his trained fighters as they good naturedly rolled around in a mock scrimmage. Energy spent they got up laughing. "You are losing your touch old man I got in an extra hit to the gut," quipped the younger of the two brothers. "I could take you down any day kid, any day." Came the elders reply.
Knowing the banter could go on indefinitely John pulled the dad card. "Excuse me boys, is there anything resembling coffee in this place?" John asked to the room. "Coming right up sir" replied Sam with tentative smile. The itinerating parent knew they were going to have to talk. Sam needed to know John loved him. Sam needed to be able to say he loved John. They couldn't take back the words said in anger, but they could fix the damage the dialogue had caused.
Back to the English accent, "Where are those manners of mine? Please gentleman might I take your coats after the long journey? The retiring room is down the hall to the right, should anyone need to avail themselves." Both his newly arrived family members laughed at this.
"What in the hell did you eat this morning college boy?" Dean looked up at this younger brother. "I tested out the frosting." Was Sam's quick retort his eyes sparkling. He knew the mention of frosting would make Dean happy. Many a time Sam had helped his older relation eat the creamy goodness with a spoon. It was a special cool older brother thing Dean would do when John went out alone on a job. "Frosting, there is frosting, where?" All of a sudden Dean looked nine years old.
"While you boys are discussing the finer points of cake toppings, I think I will avail myself." John told his boys. The avail myself, came in an equally funny English accent. His kids laughed, score one for Dad he thought. "No problem sir." John wished his little one would stop calling him sir. He knew it was Sam wanting John to know he was being respectful. It was just with every sir uttered John's heart fractured a little more.
When the father closed the door to avail himself he heard Sam quietly ask Dean. "What the hell? What happened?" Equally as softly the birthday boy answered, "I don't know Sammy we were on a job in Mill Valley, fun town Mill Valley." Sam raised his eyebrows silently saying 'and.'
"We finished it headed back to the place we were staying. You called with the annual call and boom, my phone gets slammed out of hand." Dean went on in a rare moment sincerity not followed up by humor. "Maybe he just realized how much I missed you. I've told you he is not always…" They must have moved into another room, because John couldn't hear what he wasn't always. He could only imagine the fill in the blank on that one. None of them were very nice.
The father and his turbulent emotions took their time making their way from the bathroom to the kitchen where he could hear his boys talking about Sam's attempt at cooking. To his surprise there were pictures on the wall not just of Dean and Sam but also of the three of them. John stopped in front of the one taken on his oldest ninth birthday.
Little Sammy who was so serious the whole day and John had just given Dean the model Impala. They were all smiling for the camera. Humbled that Sam still cared enough to hang a photo with him in it he moved on and took in other things about the apartment.
A blue and green patchwork throw carefully lay over the back of what had to be the world's most hideous green chair. Leaning in to get a closer look John noticed that it was a quilt made of shirts they had all worn. Rags for working on the car or cleaning weapons he had told his keeper of the house. Food, laundry and supplies, he was in charge of things of that nature. Oh Dean his little domestic.
Mary used to make quilts out of his old flannel shirts, she told him they still held his warmth and if you wrapped the quilt around you tight you could feel the safety his arms offered. She would have little Dean assist with quilting projects he would stitch the small pieces together.
Other things jumped out at John, framed artwork in Sam's office depicting places they had been. Including and this made him laugh out loud Hardesty, Oklahoma. It was an eight by ten of the Lake Schultz State Park. Sam apparently had a little of John's masochistic streak after all. Never forget where you have been.
Also much to his surprise there was a montage of photos from Lawrence. If he wasn't mistaken the first was a picture of Amyx Barber Shop on Mass Street where John took Dean to get his first adult hair cut. The second looked as if it was taken from someone laying beneath the tree in their front yard.
The third was of the Lawrence County Courthouse. His mind traveled again. He could still see Mary as she bounced out of the doors. Sun framed her smiling face, her white dress blowing in the morning breeze. "You look like an angel Mrs. Winchester…" An angel, John shook his head.
No doubt in his mind these were from Dean. How many times had heard his older son tell his younger you have to know where you come from?' Sammy valued their family history it meant something to him. John also noticed there were clean rugs on the floor and matching curtains over the windows. The place felt lived in. Sam might have made it this way, but it was his older sibling's influence that got him there.
By the time he made it to the kitchen the boys had mugs in their hands. One with coffee and one with hot chocolate; it would be a rare day when his eldest drank coffee and his birthday wasn't going to be it. Sam handed him a mug. "Boston roast sir black and hot."
"Samuel." His baby's face dropped. The use of Samuel in the past never boded well for the kid. John's throat tightened as he watched Sam fight tears. His young twenty one year old didn't argue or fight he just said rather resigned, "yes sir." John didn't miss the protective stance Dean fell into. He would take on his Dad birthday or not. This was Sammy after all.
Inhaling what he hoped to be a steadying breath John replied, "Sammy, please son call me Dad." As he said this he brought his hand to rest tenderly on Sam's check. The same one he had viciously punched years earlier. Poor kids eyes leaked a little of the water he had been holding back, Sam just brought a hand up to his eyes and wiped. He didn't seem to care that both John and Dean had watched him loose his battle with the waterworks. Dean relaxed his battle stance.
Sam's lips curved up when he spoke next. "Yes Dad, as I was saying Boston roast." John thought Sammy smiling at him was the greatest gift his baby could bestow. At least the kid understood the need for battery acid and at that it was a heavenly Boston roast. John took a long drink. "Sammy, you make a fine cup of coffee my boy." Father and son shared a fellow coffee addict's smile. "Ugh." Was Dean's only thought on the subject.
The tension in Sam's shoulders eased a slight bit after he was able to call his dad, Dad. He even went on to grin a little more when he continued talking. "Am sure you two are starved after your job this morning. So, if you will take a seat I will bring out lunch." Sam said this without any 'can't believe you went on another fucking hunt' in his voice. John inclined his head, thinking this was a day for the Winchester history books indeed. Dean smiled at his Dad thinking the same thing.
"Sam, I am impressed. You even cut the chives." Dean chuckled as he said this. John let himself be happy as he watched his boys bicker back and forth. "You always said chives were the green bread crumbs that lead you to the rest of the meal." Sam smiled at his brother. Dean laughed when he retorted "dude sometimes that was the only way to get you to eat. Couldn't have you starving and all. How else would you grow up to be big," they both finished "and tall."
February 21, 1988Grand Forks, North Dakota
"Sammy you have to eat," practically begged a ten year old Dean. He was at his wits end with the five year old. "Why?" Needled the little one. Dean clamped his mouth shut. Why was Sammy's new word. Normally he had the patience of Job with his little rug rat of a brother. But he was still recovering from a rather severe bought of flu and it was colder than an igloo in the half star motel room.
"Because it will help you grow up big, strong and tall. You want that don't you?" Dean was trying. "Humph." Was the only reply Sam offered. That and the relentless tapping of his padded pajama bottom foot. It was the first time in a long time the older brother weighed the options of choking his little brother. Instead of squeezing his impertinent throat till his little eyes popped off like that famous bear he changed tactics.
"What have I told you about following the green bread crumbs?" The heckler answered by route. "They lead you to the rest of the meal." "And?" Dean asked with a slight cough. "And desert." Sammy's brown green eyes looked up at his big brother his face breaking into a knowing smile. "Vanilla?" He asked with a bit of maybe I could be talked into eating in his voice. "Yup." Was the raspy answer of the trying not to fall asleep on his feet protector of said padded pajama bottom children named Samuel John Winchester.
"Okay, I'll eat. What about you Dean? Don't you want to grow up to be bigger and stronger and taller than you are?" Sammy quizzed his brother. He figured if it was important for him, than it must be for Dean as well. "I don't know Sammy my throat still kinda hurts." The not even a month over ten years old also clad in pajama bottom, no padded feet explained. Sam put his little hand on Dean's slightly bigger one, "You could have my smashed potatoes they just slide down. I can put more butter on em to make em softer." Dean tussled his brother's mind of his own hair. "It's a deal Sammy."
January 24, 2005Redwood City, California
"What do you think of the meatloaf?" Sam asked Dean. John could tell that even though he was trying to hide it in male bravado he cared what his brother thought. "Nutmeg was a nice choice of spices geek boy, I might make a Betty Crocker out of you yet."
The person who had spent the better part of the morning slaving over a hot stove rejoined, "Yet? Dude do you have any idea how long it took me to smash the potatoes?" The older brother chuckled. He did in fact know how long it took. "These are real spuds, no out of the box shit on your birthday." The amused father cocked an eyebrow at the language. "Sorry s – Dad." John just smiled. This felt normal.
"Dean, wait till you see the cake!" Sam said as giddy as a kid at a carnival with two or three rolls of cotton candy under his belt. "Sammy you didn't have to make me a cake." A moderately embarrassed Dean said. "To hell I didn't." Was his geek boy brother's riposte. The gladdened dad didn't even raise an eyebrow just reached over and squeezed his son's shoulder. Sam looked up at his Dad and nodded. Without Dean they would both be dead.
When the Winchesters were done with the hearty meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with chives and steamed green beans, not from a can. Sam cleared the table not letting his somniferous family help one bit. The he brought out the sugary confection complete with candles, big chunky number ones with cars on them and all.
John watched the emotions working there way across on his normally rock solid now turbulent older son's face. To everyone's shock a lone tear escaped and ran a path down the still slightly dirty cheek of the birthday kid. Super Sam to the rescue, he saw it to and quickly covered for Dean by singing loud and off key. John silently chuckled to himself. It was usually the opposite the big little one covering for the little big one.
"Dean, you have no idea! It comes in an already mixed box. I went to the store and there on the top shelf – you know the one I can reach, was a Jell-O Oreo cake mix box. You pour the contents in a bowl mix in extra Oreos. Double stuff of course nothing but the best for the bestest brother in the world on his birthday and voila. Sam is cool brother extraordinaire." The cool brother told his family with a flamboyant flourish of his hand. The bestest brother in the world grabbed his cool brother extraordinaire in a chokehold and just held him for a second. "Sammy, you totally are geek boy."
Each of the rifle name bearing men had larger than life slices of the famed Oreo cake. A cake they all soon realized was sweet enough to send them all to the moon first class round trip. Dean laughed when he asked his cool brother extraordinaire just how many double stuff Oreo's he put in the cake. A bit chagrined Sam answered a whole bag. John laughed, "I knew it."
After lunch and desert Sam gave them the grand tour. Oh he knew Dean had been there before, but he had made changes and wanted his father to be included in this part of his life. 'Please call me dad.' Maybe just maybe Sam thought they could and would reach an accord. Especially since his father seemed to be enjoying the family day. John looked over to see Dean beaming with no small amount of pride. Sam was theirs, the both raised him, and influences from both were evident in his everyday life. Not that Sam would admit that without a struggle.
Sam switched between the funny English accent and the little French man they had meet at a job in Baton Rouge, which was one of the few hunts Sam still brought up with fondness. John never encouraged making fun of or belittling people. It was one of the few things he would call his boys on the carpet for. But this guy well it was hard not to laugh. He was what the new age kids would call affected.
The university student started with the hall, which housed dozens of family photos. Sam and Dean at various ages, always together. John stopped at the one of his sons hanging their heads off the side of bed upside down. Jim had taken it one day when they were all but snowed in at his house in the North Star State. He told the boys it was laundry day. The wise cracks had finished making the last bed. Then collapsed in a 'fit of exhaustion' if he recalled correctly. The pastor couldn't resist snapping the shot.
By the time the W men made it to the office Dean and John knew they were both, both of them loved. The office housed various reminders of their jobs and travels. Including a board that had at least 50 postcards all over it. His domestic no doubt. John figured if he turned them over there would be notes on all of them. On the stray's desk there was a picture of the boys at three and eight. John remembered that day as if it had been burned into his mind. He had taken the boys swimming in the local pond.
Dean was learning his brother to swim. Little Sammy was never taught things he learned them. Oh Sammy and the phrase Dean was learning me. How many times had the single dad heard the little pain in the bum say it? It got to cold to fast in the spring air. The three year old in his hand me down swim trunks and hand me down shirt couldn't get warm.
Dean didn't panic. No John thought, that was never his style. He proceeded to wrap both their towels around his kid brother. When that still didn't but the kibosh on the shiver and shakes, he ensconced Sammy in his jacket then enclosed him in the tightest embrace possible. John couldn't resist taking a picture of his son's. One of his rare 'normal Dad moments.'
From the den of all things study related they moved onto the bedroom. Not before John's eyes wandered across the antique plate the father had purchased his big little one. They had been grocery shopping normally something Dean did even at a young age, but he had been helping Jim on a project. The father had watched his pip squeak eyeing the window of a second hand shop. When he located the object of his son's gaze he smiled. An antique plate with the letters JDS entwined.
The floppy hair kid was telling his family about the closet door which never closed right. One night apparently it slammed shut. Before he was even conscious of the fact Sam had the shotgun out from underneath the bed and at the ready. Sam would be a Winchester first and everything else second. John and his birthday boy noticed the picture on Sam's nightstand at the same time. Eyebrows raised in a well ain't that just interesting look, they glanced at each other, then Sam.
The younger man had been explaining how he built the nightstands himself in a woodshop class. The professor had a variety of woods available; when the Kansas native discovered that cottonwood was one of the grains it had been a no brainer. After he had sanded and varnished the sturdy tables he set about carving sigils into them.
He was in the middle of quoting his older and wiser brother, "You can never have too much protection." When he stopped realizing his that same sibling and his paternal unit wore matching expressions of what the hell. "What?" Sam questioned them and then watched in fascination as the other two shared a 'look.' "Ain't that just interesting, Sam thought not knowing his family had silently just said something along those same words. Who knew his Dad was capable?
Dean piped up "nothing Sam just admiring your work. Dude, if I'd I known your were this handy I might have given you more tasks to do when we helped Jim redo his kitchen." The woodworker looked at his brother as if he had ten heads, knowing there was more to it. But to John and Dean's surprise Sam, normally known as Sam the inquisitor let it go.
With the tour of the apartment complete and Sam still in genuine good spirits John asked if he would show them the school. The forty nine year old father watched his twenty one year olds expression change. The kid was taken slightly aback, his father whom he hadn't scene in at least to his father's knowledge years wanted to see where his son went to school.
Sam didn't know what to say just nodded in agreement. 'Well ain't that a bitch.' Sam thought. When his Dad cocked his head at him he wondered if he had actually voiced the thought. John chortled. 'No kid you didn't actually voice it.'
The campus tour was a nonstop riot. Sam couldn't stop laughing at his brother checking out all the 'totally hot brainy chicks.' He smiled as his Dad downright ogled all the books that were available. In all his years, not they were many Sam could never remember his Dad checking out a woman. At least not in the sense Dean did. Well he had to admit, no one could 'check out' woman like Dean. It was skill totally unique to his bestest brother.
Wanting to end the guided tour with a bang. The junior, almost senior with all the extra classes he squeezed in, took his nothing scares them cause their bad asses family to see the Flatliner's made it famous Stanford Mausoleum. You could take Sam out of the day to day hunting, but he was and would always be a Winchester. All three W boys had a grand time watching people walk past the stone edifice and scream every time a leaf turned over.
When they returned to the apartment John watched his lanky six foot four son pull his six foot one brother aside making small gestures with his long hands. 'What had Dean feed them to grow them so tall?' At that moment he was overcome with a sense of paternal pride. He had done the best he could do. Both his boys were strong men with good hearts and good hands. Though he could just imagine what Dean would say about the good hands part.
"Hey Sam," John called to his son. "Yeah Dad." Sam said with a smile. "I'm going to pour a cup of Boston Roast. Would you like one?" John said returning the gesture. "Thanks Dad that would be great." Dean looked at this family and frowned. "We should have been coffee bean farmers." He lamented with a smirk. His father and brother in unison replied. "What would you have done?" Dean thought it was wonderful his father and brother together and not fighting.
"Geek boy, I am starting to offend even myself. Would you mind if I use your retiring room to shower?" Sam laughed at his brother's reiteration of his use of the phrase retiring room. "No problem, you were kinda starting to reek." Dean flipped his brother the bird. "Towels are in the…" The bathroom door closed. Sam looked at his father. "Guess he wasn't interested in where the towels were." John nodded with a smile "guess not."
The apprehensive Centropolis man could tell his baby was worried about being alone with his father. He was a little uneasy about it himself. With Dean there to mediate or stand watch, they couldn't do much damage to each other. Alone, alone both Winchester's sipping their respective coffees were exposed.
John used the pair Jim's God gave him. "Sammy I am sorry I punched you the way I did." Sam swallowed reflexively. "Its okay I had it coming Dad. Lets face it I was way out of line and considering you were mighty restrained." John raised his eyebrows at his son's admission and at the double entendre of the word mighty.
He remembered with a far away look in his eye when Mary told him they were going to have Sam. John took it stride no walking out on his wife this time. He just put a hand on her stomach that moved slightly lower, a waggle of his eyebrow's, and a "we did well."
"Okay you did have the smack coming. But telling you weren't a welcome part of the family. Oh God kid, nothing could be farther from the truth. I constantly worry about you. Is he sick? He always gets bouts of hay fever in the fall." Sam listened intently to John's words they were a balm to the ache in his rapidly beating heart.
The father kept going. "When you were injured in your chemistry class and the school called Dean. My heart stopped beating for what seemed an eternity when your brother told me he had to get to California pronto you were in the hospital."
John watched his youngest pull a move that his oldest had perfected. He slide his hands into his pockets and folded his shoulders inward. "And the reaper Sammy you have to know I would march him into hell before I let him take you." Coughing to clear his suddenly constrained throat Sam replied in earnest. "I do know Dad. I do."
Sam opened and closed his mouth trying to form words. John didn't push him, just waited. When his cargo pants clad kid did he wasn't disappointed. "Dad. Not one day has gone by that you and Dean haven't been at the forefront of my mind. Your safety, are they injured? Or your well being I know Dad gets nosebleeds with high altitudes. I might have said I didn't want to darken your path with my shadow, but many a night I wished you'd darken mine. There were even moments I could swear you were there behind me."
John looked a little past his son's shoulder. Silently responding to the statement. 'There were moments when I was behind you.' "At the strangest times, probably when I needed you most I would hear your voice in my ear, clear as day. So audible I would turn around just to see if you were there. Hoped you were there…" Sam voice trailed off. John reached over and pulled his son into a tight embrace. "Sammy I love you, I do. Please know that." "I know Dad, I love you too."
From behind the refuge of the bathroom door Dean felt the tension in his body easing. His brother and father made peace with each other. He could think of no greater birthday gift. All though that shower was looking so tempting that it was a close second. The twenty six year old stripped down and hopped in. The water was hot and pelting. Dean reached down for the soap and realized that there were two, one of which smelled faintly of sweet pea. Had being out here in the land of fairies turned his brother into a fruiter or was his boy getting some? Interesting…
Dean exited the bathroom feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. And for the first time in a very long time relaxed. "Did you boys miss me?" Dean questioned his family with outstretched arms. They were sitting in the living room, Sam in that hideous green chair. His Dad on the couch, which somewhat matched the chair.
Dean didn't know if Sam had done that on purpose or Redwood City had an over abundance of hideous green furniture. John groaned at his hazel eyed sons theatrics. He stood up and headed for the kitchen mumbling something about needing battery acid. Dean sat down on the couch his father had just vacated.
A few minutes later he exited said room. Three mugs in hand, two coffees and a hot cocoa. Once the men took sips of their respective beverages, they all let out identical contented sighs. John was the first to muse, "Some things just run in the family." His boys cracked up and every one sitting on the hideous green furnishing had a good laugh.
Then out of nowhere Sam popped up. "Dean your present." The birthday kid put a staying hand up. "Seeing you was present enough Sam." John could tell Dean was happy his brother remembered a present, but would have been just as content if spending a nice day together was it.
"No that was Dad's present. This was the one I was going to send." With that Sam disappeared down the hall. The soon to be present recipient looked at his Dad as if to ask him. John shook his head. He had no clue and learned to stop asking years ago. His boys never failed to surprise him.
Sam came back with a box maybe a little bigger than a shoebox. Dean looked at it, and bless the poor kid's heart, he was embarrassed. Taking it from his brother, his said "thanks Sam" then made no move to open it. The brown floppy haired Winchester who tried so hard to make it a good celebration day for his brother suddenly looked four.
In a small voice the taller of the two asked. "Aren't you going to open it?" Dean laughed at the look on his brother's face. "Okay Sammy okay." Dean said as he pulled his knife out. "Anything I should worry about Dad seeing?" Dean looked pointedly from his father to brother as he said this. John raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Sam could be quite creative when given the chance Dad."
Sam and Dean laughed sharing another one of their many private jokes. "No old man, I think you are safe." The last time Sam had sent him an inflated banana man and banana flavored condoms. With the kids confirmation all was okay Dean carefully cut the mailing box open not wanting to damage whatever his sibling had placed inside.
He pulled a wrapped shoebox size box out and glanced at his brother eyes full of swirling emotion. Sam reminded him, "You always told me wrapping was the most important part." This was true the father listening thought. He had heard dirty blond say this many a time. John watched as his oldest chucked his youngest under the chin. Thinking it had to be unconscious on Dean's part. Sam just smiled indulgently at his brother.
After opening that box the newly showered and changed Winchester discovered there were several small things, again wrapped. It was after all, the most important part. Dean left the square looking one till the end. John figured by the look his eldest gave it, he must know what was inside it and it must be very special.
A new sleeve for his knife, to replace the beat up one he had. Which made the dad smile the beat up one had been a gift from Sam ten years ago. John had taken the eleven year old to get it. Two tee shirts, one stating the wearer was a Chick Magnet, the other Live Free or Die Trying.
A new mixed tape, of course. John had to laugh at that. Dean had dozens of mixed tapes from Sam. A small photo album with updated photos of Sam in them as well as some postcards. Ah, so this is where/how Dean always had updated photos of Sam on his visor. He never asked just made sure he looked whenever he was in the Impala.
With the square present Dean took his time opening it. The corners of his mouth curved upward into a genuine smile. John was more than curious by this time. Dean looked at Sam. Sam looked at Dean. Alas, silent brother communication in action. 'Ah hah' he thought, he was lucky enough to witness the unique phenomenon before the day was out.
Slowly and with no small amount of reverence the kid took out what looked to be a book. His grin grew wider as he flipped through it his face was open. You could see everything he was feeling as he read. The whole time his now clean hand was covering the front. John was really interested now; it was a rare day when Dean's expression was unguarded.
Just then Dean looked up to see his father studying him with great care. He gently handed the book to his father. John didn't miss the gently part. With a heavy heart John studied the bound work. The Adventures of Amos and Craven, Volume 17. John went on to read the book cover to cover. It was when he closed the book and looked at sons, his great warriors he realized just how close they were. They both loved each other deeply and without reservation. Not that either would admit it verbally. Well Sam might. Maybe.
These books must be what Dean keeps in the rosewood box in the trunk of his beloved car. He is extremely protective of the small wooden chest always keeps it safe and hidden under his weapons collection. The weather beaten father remembered when he gave it to his son. "Everyone needs a safe place to store their memories." Would that he knew. Dean had discovered his private box one day and well...
John laughed when he looked up at his boys. Sam would be Amos the scarecrow and Dean would be Craven the sage raven. How many Amos and Craven stories had he heard? He didn't even want to contemplate. Infinity seemed like a small number compared to what the real number must be.
This was his little one's way of letting his older brother know how much he loved him, while maintaining the all important male pride. "Volume 17?" John questioned out load. "Sam has made me one every year since my ninth birthday." Dean answered while looking at his hands as if suddenly very interested in them. They all remembered that week.
"Sam you are a wonderful artist. The detail in the drawings." John stopped when Dean abruptly stood up. "To much cocoa gotta take a leak, be right back." Dean walked down the hall as fast as he could with out looking like he was fleeing the scene of a crime. He heard his Dad continue. "The detail in the drawings, Sam I think you might have missed your calling."
Still looking down the hall where his brother disappeared. "Thanks Dad." Dean could hear the concern for him in his family member's voices as he splashed water over his face. "Dad?" Sam pointed towards the water closet. John ran a hand over his face. "He will be okay. I think he is just a little o d on displays of affection."
Sam nodded he understood. "The nice lady at the antique store put extra bags in to protect the model. When you took the car out and wrapped it in the shirt. I sneaked the bags out of the trash. I knew it would still be a while before Dean could do a lot of moving." John watched as his son tucked a stray hair behind his ear. The fact that Sam's voice dropped as he said do a lot of moving wasn't lost on him. That week still haunted them all.
His brown green eyed child continued the eyes back at the event. "He always told me Amos and Craven stories when I was down. Thought I would repay the favor. After that it sorta became a tradition. And don't ever tell Mr. Tough Guy this, but I wanted him to know I loved him." Sam stopped.
"I know Sammy, I do know." The hunter currently seeking asylum in the bathroom said to the closed door. Dean heard a cup move, those two and their coffee. God help him if Starbucks went belly up. Schooling his emotions he prepared to head out to his family.
January 24, 1988Chadron, Nebraska
Current day Sam continued "After you tucked us in that night, I took the book from underneath my mattress and slunk over to Dean." The four year old tyke asked "Dean are you awake?" The older brother heard the determination in his little ones voice. He knew that catch feigning sleep would get him nowhere. "Yeah, Sammy. What wrong?" The exhausted nine year old asked.
"I have a present for you." Dean opened his eyes and looked at his sweatpants wearing kid brother. The present day Sam told his parent how serious his four year old self was. "Sammy, you gave me a present. It was totally cool." John laughed at Sam's impression of his brother and his totally cool phrase.
"I know you are still kinda soar and not feeling so well yet." The birthday boy watched as Sam took a deep breath and went for broke. "And you always tell me their stories when I am not feeling well, so I thought…" The still battered bum owner finished, "you thought you might do the same for me." Dean watched Sammy eyes get big, "Yeah."
January 24, 2005Redwood City, California
Current day Sam chuckled "At this point Dean turned on his side, I think sitting would have taken the rest of his energy. Remember how he sat through diner and the cake?" John remembered well. Dean was sweating by the time it was over. He never let on his discomfort to his brother, who had tried to make it a special day.
"Dean looked at me kindly and I handed him my first attempt at Amos and Craven." Sam smiled. "He told me to crawl up and we would read it together." John reflected, " So that was why I found you to asleep together the next morning." Sam looked past him his eyes were far away in another time and place. "Yeah, we kinda discussed more of their adventures that night.
Dean came back into the kitchen at that moment. His father and brother looked at him. He smirked and went on "yes, boys. I'm back. No, I didn't fall in. And Sammy, I just love those soft towels. Even though I had to search to find them after my shower. Dude the water pressure here rocks." Sam and John laughed. Guess he did want to know the location of the towels after all.
"I'm headed down to the car. Going to get my thermos. Would love to have some of that double hot chocolate to keep me going on the road." Dean turned to his father. "You want me to grab yours? I am sure you would love to have some of that oil swill." John frowned at little as he tossed his keys to his child. "Sure son thanks." Grabbing his box the birthday boy headed out.
Dean rested his head on the hood of his car. He loved his brother and missed him terribly. Not that they would say that when they talked. The Winchester men tried hard to cover their feelings in bravado and sarcastic humor. Part of him didn't want to leave. The other part of him knew he had too.
Opening the car door he sat in the sanctuary of his driver's seat. He reached his ring clad hand over and slipped out the tape in the tape deck, putting his new one in. His brother always found a great selection of classic rocks songs. Dean looked out the window of his baby took a deep relaxing breath. The he grabbed his trusty black thermos and headed to the trunk. Once he opened the hatch that housed all his material possessions. He stored his gifts and grabbed a small white box from underneath his weapons cache.
He opened his fathers Godzilla sized truck reached into grab the carrier of coffee and knocked something off the seat. When he went to pick it up off the floor he realized it was a small box, with his name on it. Not wanting to wait Dean opened it. It was his mother's hairpin welded into a belt buckle.
He thought back to a day when he was three. "Mom why do you have pin with clouds on it?" His mom had answered, "so I can touch the sky when ever I want." He remembering thinking that was totally cool. What he wouldn't give to touch the part of the sky with his mom in it.
Once he had secured both thermoses, the white box and his dad's gift he headed back up to the apartment. His brother and fathers hushed voices behind the opened door stopped him from going right in. "Really Dad?" Sam said with what Dean thought was hope in his voice.
"We don't have to be to Texas until Friday. Your brother and I can make that in two days of hard driving. It's up to you." His father told Sam with what Dean thought was hope in his voice. 'What the fuck?' Dean thought with hope in his heart. "Of course you can stay. I would love to have you guys. Both of you." Wow Sammy didn't even mask the desperation in the word love. Kid was continuing to place nice with his Dad. Wait, did his Dad just ask his brother if they could stay?
Dean went back a few steps and then pounded up the stairs. By the time he pushed through the half open door. John and Sam were sitting across from each other sipping out of their battery acid distilleries. Sam turned and looked at him. A look he reserved for the please don't argue me moments in life. "Dad said he was getting on in years and the days of back to back driving are taking a toll."
At this John walked over and good-naturedly cuffed his son on the back of the head only a small part of him then felt guilty. When the boys sassing hit a certain point John would give them a light smack to the back of the head, as if to say enough. It felt normal. Sam just guffawed and went on talking "I suggested maybe you stay and get a good night of sleep under your belts before you next job. Then leave tomorrow after lunch. That way you will miss commuter traffic. What do you think?"
Dean thought it sounded like heaven, his family in one place for more than an hour… "Well hell Sammy if the old man need to rest his weary bones who am I to say no." Just a soon as he got the words out, Dean received a matching cuff to the back of the head. The birthday boy thought it was the best gift in the world. The three of them shared a real old fashion family moment.
After the decision to stay was made, sleeping arrangements came next. Due to his advancing years, a phrase which earned to more two more whacks to the back of the noggin, it was agreed upon that John get to have the pull out bed in the couch. The boys would share Sam's bed. It wasn't the first time they had shared a place to lay their heads and somehow they knew it wouldn't be the last.
The father who realized he was starting to smell like a fermenting onion headed down the hall to shower, brush his teeth and check out the soft towels. Walking past the bedroom door John couldn't help but ease drop on his boys.
"Do you think he is dying?" He heard his younger one ask. John shook his head at the question and bit his lip to keep from laughing at the response. "Hell no he ain't dying. I tell you when it is Dad's time he will be old as fucking…" "You said a bad word." Sam couldn't help reminding Dean. It was something Sam said to his older brother far to often when they were little.
Dean's wordless reply didn't leave anything to the imagination. "…he will be as old as dirt, okay geek boy. And it will be nowhere near the horrible, vomit inducing green chair. No are Dad will go out in style or at least happy." His boys chuckled.
"I think Dad misses us" John didn't miss Dean's emphasis on the word us, "as much as we do. The good parts and you know there were good parts Sammy." The father hung his head at the thinly concealed desperation in the boy's voice. "Yeah Dean I know. Please don't think I have forgotten. Images fly through my head at the oddest of times. You learning me how to make snow angels." John's lips broke into a grin at the learning me phrase. There was a peace about it. "Dad teaching me how to skip rocks on the water."
"Then there are days when I am sitting in class and I wonder where you guys are and what you are doing?" Dean continued for his brother. "And if we are safe." "No," Sam said. "Well, yes of course. But I wonder if you need help or if it wouldn't have been better if I stayed." John could not believe his ears. Sam would have never, ever, ever have said this to him. Dean though, he was different. Sam could tell him anything, that's what bestest brothers were for.
Smack. Did his peacekeeper son just hit the other one? The one he would go out of his was to take a punishment for. "Did you just hit me? Why does everyone hit me? What the fuck?" Sam said all in one pensive breath. Dean's response had him back to biting his lip. "First geek boy, you said a bad word. Jim would have washed my mouth out with soap for that." Sam quickly retorted. "Fat lot a good it did." Dean response was just as quick. "Yeah dude, but it worked on you." A snort was the only joiner to that.
"Second, yes Sammy I did hit you and I will keep hitting you until you stop that stupid talk. You know there are times you really do have sh- crap for brains." Not that either could see other but both Sam and John smiled at Dean making a conscious effort not to curse.
"Three we hit you because when everything else fails the last resort in an intervention is to try and smack some sense into the person. You my boy never do things the easy way, hence the smack. For all your arguing you and Dad are alike. Obstinate, stubborn and unwilling to compromise. Do you have any idea how hard you two are to live with sometimes?" The father swallowed his shame. His poor boy, what kind of life had he provided Dean?
Before Sam could get a word in his steam rolling brother kept going. "Don't you ever and I mean ever let me hear you talk like that again Sammy. Ever do you hear me?" The college student with the flaming red check, well two flaming red, one with a bruise starting to form just nodded. He knew better at this point than to try and verbalize. "How many times do I have to tell you? You have to live your life. If being geek boy is it, then that's what you do. I sacrificed more than you will ever know to get you here. Don't you dare make that in vain."
John's hands were shaking. His little centurion, his fighter and the glue that held the family together was hurting. Spouting off like that was his way of showing it. Looking at the door knowing he shouldn't be listening and doing it anyhow he waited for them to continue. Sam said in voice full of unshed tears "I'm sorry Dean I am. I just, it's just that…" Sam tried to say.
"What?" Was his brother's surly reply. "Fuck Dean." Sam stopped, "You can get the soap after I am done." John expelled a breath he was unaware he had been holding. A strangled chuckled mingled with the rush of air. Dean was quick to crack back. "Dude you know a second offense means a turn over someone's knee."
If John had been able to see his life is best spent on the road tee shirt wearer he would have scene the humor in his eyes. The tree of life long sleeve shirt owner sighed. "Dude, it didn't work for you." Laughing the joshing continued. "Worked for you though didn't it. You thought you could be Mr. Tough Guy like me." Sam's response was enough to send water from his father's eyes. "I was only trying to keep the attention off you. You were still so sick from inhaling the stuff from the phantasmal. I thought you were going to die."
Dean swallowed. "Sammy I knew what I was doing. You know how Dad got then with those types of situations. I was trying to keep his attention off of you. Because you bone head have never as evidenced earlier learned the fine art of knowing when to stop." The taller of the two stretched his neck to one side then the other trying to find a way to finish what he was originally trying to say.
"As I was attempting to get out, it's just that sometimes I miss you. Really miss you. And Dad. Alright. And I love you. I know, Sammy why did you have to go and say that…" John ran a hand over his face. "
Because bone head I do and I wanted you to know even if you never want to hear it." The or say it was left unspoken.
When the put in his place twenty six year old spoke next, John didn't know who was more shocked Sam, Dean, or their Dad. Gone was the jackass. If John had been able to see through doors he would have scene Dean bring an unsteady hand to Sam's cheek, the one he just hit, as he talked.
"I love you to geek boy, I love you too. Am sorry I lost my temper. Forgive me?" It took the twenty one year old a second to respond. His brother voiced the words I love you. Not that Sam ever doubted that, he didn't not for one second.
"Yeah, yeah. How can I not?" Sam said in a small voice. "Sammy, I am serious. Though mom and the angels know this is getting way to chick flick for me." "Dude, were cool." Sam replied to his brother's admission. "Now, Sam are you going to open the box or leave it there? It took painstaking efforts to keep it from Dad." John looked up to the heavens. Oh hell. Did he want to know? Mary help him he did.
"Oh Dean wow I don't know what to say." Sam said. John did. What, what was it he didn't know what to say about? Tears continued to flow down his cheeks as heard the rest of the conversation. "Will you read them to me like you used too?" Asked Sam to his brother the bestest brother in the world. "Yeah Sammy, I will. Come on get comfortable." Dean said with an exasperated sigh.
The man on the other side of the door knew the admission wasn't easy for his eldest. He was trying to regain his coolness factor he had a reputation to maintain. That and he had to calm the storm of feelings raging through him. "The Continuing Adventures of Amos the Scarecrow and Craven the Raven, by Dean C. Winchester." John bowed his head in disgrace. His boys, them against the world.
January 25, 2005Redwood City, California
John woke up about 4:00am, normally both he and the smart ass in the other room would be up beverages in hand. Not a peep of sound could be heard, if he had to guess the boys stayed up hours after he went to bed. Dean felt safe with his brother next to him, so he let himself sleep. Good for him, he needed it.
The father however wasn't so lucky. He couldn't sleep, which happened sometimes. Instinctively, he checked on his sons. No matter how old they got, they would still be his. Dean had an arm around Sam, who leaned in his brother's embrace, just like when they were kids. The proud father smiled at his boys as he ever so quietly closed the door.
About 7:00am stirring sounds could be heard from the bedroom. John smiled as he heard the boys wake up and start bantering. By half past the three Winchester men were seated again at the table. Dean the domestic made everyone oatmeal with cinnamon and honey. He also toasted the wheat bread he found in the fridge and spread generous helping of the peach marmalade he spied on the bottom shelf. The meal was like something out of a fairy tale. At least a fairy tale by Winchester standards.
No fighting, well all in good fun bickering between the boys. But no real disagreements. Sam listened about his families latest jobs without smart ass 'fucking jobs' comments. Dean and John listened about school, Sam was almost done. He had doubled and tripled classes. And to the Dean's horror taken classes during the summer. Sam also took the plunge and let them in on the pretty little blond they had scene in the photo on Sam's nightstand.
Her name was Jessica. She and Sam had meet when the pre law major had been walking past the mausoleum. Which he had admitted he did often because in his warped mind it keep him close to them. It was a little late at night and she had been there on a dare from some girl friends. The effervescent pre med major had to stand outside for five minutes. Three into the five a wild cat went streaking past and she shrieked. Sam went into instant attack mode and sought out the damsel in distress.
He laughed as he told his Dad and brother. "You guys should have been there, I had my knife out in two seconds. Was in front of her trembling body in four. You would have been laughing your asses off. Superman Sam to the rescue." They laughed their asses off listening to him. "Anyhow, I rescued her from the ferocious cat and asked her if she wanted to come back for a cup of coffee." Sam stopped for a sip of said liquid. Dean took opportunity of the break to say. "That's my boy." Sam punched his dirty mind sibling in the arm.
"Speaking of Superman, when Jess saw your picture in the hall, you know the one Jim took of us on the cliff." The toast maker did know the one. She remarked on how you looked like some actor on Smallville, the television show about a young Clark Kent. Though she did comment the star was better looking." Sam smirked at his brother.
Attacking Dean's looks was a sure fire way to get a rise out of him. Knowing this the coffee drinker made sure to pat the cocoa drinker on the back in consolatory manner. Dean straighten in his chair. "I'm a handsome devil with real skills. He's just a pretty boy in makeup." Was the matter of fact response to the assault on his male physic.
He wasn't finished though the blow to his pride had to be vindicated. "Besides I have watched enough of the episodes to know the guy was a whack job. First off who wears Dockers and thinks they make him look good?" The coffee drinkers laughed hard.
"Second, who flies across the world, spends months with a chick like that and doesn't bang her." Sam put a hand over his mouth to stifle the chuckle. His Dad gave him an eyebrow. "Seriously Dad, okay maybe I should say didn't make love to her. But still." John raised his eyes to the ceiling.
"Third, why didn't he just cap them in the cabin. The Luthor's were bad and evil. The fact that he was not such a nice guy should have made it easier. Fourth, if you are going to wield a shotgun like he did and beat up on people who have only ever been nice to you, you deserve to die by flaming meteor." Dean nodded his head as family to let them know he was finished and then he took a good swing of his hot chocolate. Sam and John both patted him on the back.
The interested parent wanted to know more about the girl. "Dean now that you are done defending your bruised ego do you think Sammy can finish telling us about his girlfriend?" The classic rock aficionado held his mug up to Sam. "You have the floor geek boy." The gangly though strong Winchester cleared his throat. "Thank you."
Sam went on to tell them how she baked him cookies. She had wheedled the fact that peanut butter raisin was his favorite out of him. Jess made him two dozen and a pot of Northwestern Blend coffee. "I can see why you like her, she has good taste in coffee." John commented to his son. "Tell me about it, she is smart, funny and a coffee coinsurer." Sam said with a sigh. "What more could a man want?" The older brother asked. "Shut up Dean."
When the time came for Dean and John to hit the road no one wanted to move. It was Dean who made everyone feel better about it. It was always Dean. "Now geek boy, I know you are going to miss us. But don't cry. Your personal baker and coffee brewer will be back from her parents tomorrow. You won't even remember sharing your bed with me."
The fall of his youngest head was enough a reaction for all to know that he would rather have Dean there, at least for the time being. John watched the brothers embrace and share some private comments. When they were done the older one gave the younger one a hearty smack to the back.
Sam laughed and said something. Dean laughed back, opened the door to his trusty Impala. He pulled out away from the curve, "headed to the fill up station Dad, will wait for you there." The he honked his horn and waved at his cool brother extraordinaire. Sam waved back and turned to his father.
"Dad," his son's voice was pensive. "Sam," his resolve was forming. Poor kid, he didn't know what to do. John just grabbed his son and pulled him into a hug. "I love you Sammy. Don't always show it, but I do. I am proud of you. Please don't ever think that I'm not." The father knew you build them up then you tear them down.
"Even though sometimes I am a pigheaded royal pain in this ass? Seriously Dad, thank you. I love you too." Sam said looking his parent in the eye. John cupped the back of his son's neck. "Not a bad impression of me, though next time remember, you have to increase in volume when you are saying it."
"Do you guys need help on this one? Dean said it was going to require some on site research. I could miss a little school and make it up easy." Hating himself for what would come next and knowing he had to see it through John took a deep breath.
"Sam don't think because your brother and I spent the last twenty four or so hours with you that everything has changed. You made your choice son school over hunting. You can't go back, I don't want you back." The father held fast as his baby's eyes grew wide. A direct hit to the battleship had been scored.
"You don't want me back? But you said I would always be a welcomed part of this family." Sam was fighting to maintain his cool. John pushed the envelope. "Family yes Sam. Fighting no. I never want to see you on a job again. You walked away from us, that can't be taken back." His son cracked. "Fine Dad, I thought things had changed, I can painfully see that they haven't. You really don't love me."
John couldn't and wouldn't leave it like that. Griping his youngest by the shoulders he applied enough pressure to make sure he and Sam were eye to eye. Not enough Sam couldn't extricate himself. "Samuel that is not true. I love you." The father made sure to enunciate the last three words. "You broke the trust Sam. Live your life without the hunting, that's what you wanted, now you have it." If there could have been an easier way.
The mist was clouding his boy's brown green windows. "You don't trust me? Do you honestly think I wouldn't fight to the death for you or Dean?" He could see the line his kid was walking and it was fine one. Yeah he did know. "It doesn't matter. It's done Sam. Done." The line snapped. "Fine Sir." 'Sir.' What had he expected? With water drenching his face John watched Sam walk back to his apartment. The father never saw his son look back.
When Sam reached the safe haven of his room he grabbed a cd from his pile and practically threw it in his player. It had been a gift from Dean. Metallica, it was one of the few bands the both loved equally. Unbeknownst to the other they would often hum their tunes in stressful situations. Turns out the Winchester Brothers found the sounds of the heavy metal band soothing.
As soon as the song rent the room Sam let it out, all of it. What the fuck had he expected? For his father to change. That would be asking too much. Disposable Heroes great title for a song should have been their theme song, since that's all he and Dean were. Disposable Bodies fill the fields I see hungry heroes end. No one to play soldier now, no one to pretend...
The aggrieved son looked out his window he couldn't see his Dad. Be he knew his wretched father was sitting in the cab of his truck. Sam hadn't heard the rattle of the old girls engine. …Victim of what said should be a servant till I fall…Why didn't he just leave? …Solider boy made of clay. Now an empty shell. Twenty one, only son. But he served us well. Bred to kill, not to care. Just do as we say. Finished here, greeting death. He's yours to take away...
Sam's unleashed the bottled anger inside him he punched the wall as hard as he could. The antique plate his dad purchased him went flying of the shelf. It rolled across the room hitting the side of his nightstand with an echoing thud.
…Life planned out before my birth, nothing could I say. Had no chance to see myself, molded by the day. Looking back I realize, nothing have I done... When the emotionally spent twenty one year old picked the plate up he saw that the trip off its perch has caused it to crack. He thought that was a perfect statement.
If Sam had only known what would happen next. He would have told his father to fuck off and rode shotgun with Dean. ...Left to die with only friend alone…They would be Disposable Heroes together till the end.