The silence was thick and deafening.
Jim watched Sam's reaction closely. He'd been worried that the sensitive boy would react to his father's announcement the way Sam typically reacted to John's declarations-with anger tinged with sadness. But Sam just sat there, staring off into the distance, hand clutching the napkin he'd had at dinner entirely too tightly. Had he not been a religious man, Jim might have cursed John Winchester at that moment. He loved the man, and believed John was one of the smartest and bravest men he'd ever had the privilege of meeting. But his obliviousness at the simplest things blew Jim's mind.
Jim could tell what John was thinking. He believed that since Sam was getting what he wanted all his life-a stable place to live, go to school, have friends-that Sam would be okay with him leaving again. He thought that since there would be times he and Dean were home, that it would be enough for Sam. While Jim hoped that Sam would be happy living there with him, he understood that Sam needed more.
He just prayed that Sam would find a way to explain this to his father that wouldn't end in one of the epic Winchester fighting matches.
Sam continued to stare, and John looked to Jim and Dean for help. Neither seemed to know what to say. Jim was glaring at him and had been all afternoon since he and Dean had presented the proposal to him earlier that afternoon. John thought that the plan was solid. He and Dean would rent a house down the road, and when they were home from hunts the three of them would live in that house like the family that had been eluding them for so long. Sam would stay with Jim while John and Dean were on hunts, and since Jim's house was only a few doors down from the house John had found to rent, Sam could go to the same school continuously.
Jim knew that, in John's mind, the plan was perfect. Sam got everything he wanted, John and Dean got to do what they were good at, and everyone would be happy.
Jim really wished, not for the first time, he could slap John Winchester into some empathy.
Dean was just as lost. He'd thought, like his father, that Sam would be thrilled with the arrangement. He didn't have to hunt, he had the opportunity to live the life he wanted, and Dean and John would be there as much as they could. Sure, he knew that it wouldn't be exactly what Sam had wanted, but it was far more than he'd ever had the chance to get.
After a tense and almost physically painful silence, John was the first to speak. In the time that the Winchesters had been living with Jim, John had transformed into an almost completely different man. The man that he'd been before had been stern, unyielding, and harsh towards his boys. He'd known that he shouldn't do that, that there should be times when he showed his boys the affection that all children were entitled to, but the thought that easing up his treatment on his boys would put them in danger had overridden everything. The man he had started to become over time was a man that Dean vaguely remembered from his childhood and one that Sam had never met. He was softer, much more willing to talk, to show emotion and to open up. His harsh side had not gone away completely, but the sharp edges had started to wear off.
John hoped that he could maintain that softness now. He took a breath and asked cautiously, "Sammy?"
Sam, who hadn't spoken a cross word to his father in days, spoke with a familiar sting that caused John to bristle. "Sam."
John chose not to take the bait, realizing that he hadn't told Sam the entire deal yet. "Sam, listen to me, buddy. Dean and I are going back to hunting. You're not."
A stunned Sam finally looked up. "What?"
"Dean and I rented a house a few doors down. When Dean and I are home, we're gonna stay there. While we're hunting, you're staying here with Jim. You can go to school, make friends, play sports, whatever you want within reason. What do you think?"
What do I think? Sam wanted to scream. He thought that his chest would constrict in that very moment and kill him. He wondered then how his father and brother would react. How could I have been so stupid, Sam wondered. I actually thought they wanted to stay with me.
"Sammy? Dude, come on. You're scaring me. Talk to us."
"Again, Dean, the name is Sam. And what's there to talk about, Dean? You and Dad have already made up your minds. Just like always. What you want to do is all that matters, right?"
"What? Are you saying you want to come with us?" Dean asked.
Dean's stomach tightened painfully at the thought. He'd wanted Sam to stay behind with Jim. Be the one Winchester that would make it in the real world. As happy as it might make him in the short term, the thought that Sammy might not become a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher or a rocket scientist-anything in the world he wanted to be other than a hunter-filled Dean with a sadness that he couldn't explain. But he didn't have time to dwell on that sadness, because in the next second, Sam exploded. He banged his fist on Jim's wooden table and all but shouted to the rooftop.
"NO, DEAN! I don't want to go with you. God, why can't you and Dad ever just listen to me!"
Without saying anything else, Sam ran from the kitchen and down to his bedroom, leaving a stunned John and Dean at the table. Jim was far from surprised, and simply shook his head before proceeding to clear the table.
"What just happened?" Dean asked.
"You got me." John replied. "Maybe we should've waited to tell him…"
"Honestly, John. How can you two be so dumb sometimes?" Jim said, exasperated.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked. "This is everything Sam told us he wanted for years. I thought he'd be thrilled."
"Me too. It's all he's talked about since he was eight years old."
"It's all he's wanted minus two very important things." Jim said. "Maybe if you two take a moment to actually use your brain, you'd realize what it is that Sam really wanted. Now get up and do the dishes while I go and check on your son."
Back in his room, Sam refused to cry. No matter how badly he wanted to, he wouldn't cry.
No matter how much it felt like it would have hurt him less for his father and brother to actually stab him in the heart, he wouldn't cry.
Damn it, Sam thought, wiping away the tears he kept telling himself he wasn't really crying. No one was around to see them so they didn't count.
A picture he kept on the dresser in the bedroom caught his attention. Sam walked over and picked it up, staring at the familiar yet strange people it contained. It was the only family picture of his father, brother, mother, and himself that had survived the fire which took Mary from them. Sam found the picture a strange thing to look at. It seemed surreal to him, the idea that the four of them had existed all together at some point in the not really so distant past, and that they had been happy, healthy, and most of all, normal.
There were times when Sam thought he could almost remember his mother. Memories so faint that they were like a wisp of smoke and disappeared if he didn't hold his breath. Soft blonde hair that he reached out and touched with his chubby little baby hand. A voice humming to him and putting him at ease. Arms around him that held him tightly without hurting him. Sam wondered how much of these were actually memories and how much of it was wishful thinking. Most of the time, it didn't really matter. It gave him comfort when his father was distant and his brother didn't want to talk about what their life had been like before Sam could form his own actual memories.
Now, it mattered.
Sam had been so close. So close to having that for himself. To knowing what it would be like to…Sam cut off his train of thought and carefully replaced the picture. It wouldn't do any good to dwell on what he wanted. It would never come true. He wished he could find a way to make them understand. Make them understand that, although Sam loved his father and brother more than anything else in the world, he had never known home as they had. He'd never had family the way they had been blessed to experience it in the early years of the Winchester family.
Sam took another look at the photo. His mother was holding him and looked happy. She was smiling, big and broad, and had a hand on Dean's head too. John stood behind all three of them, smiling in a way Sam hadn't seen him smile in years. Like he was proud of the family he had made.
Why couldn't Sam have that too? Why did Dean and John deserve it, but he apparently didn't?
Sam was smart and he knew it. Knew it not in a vain sort of way, but as a fact of his life. He was smart and could figure things out faster than most. He'd figured out long ago that John and Dean simply no longer saw the value in staying in the same place, having the same friends, going to the same school, being in the same bed every night. But what did all that mean to Sam?
It meant that he was loved. He was loved enough for his father and brother to show it.
That's it. Sam's plan came to him quickly and clearly. He ran out of the room and back to the kitchen, where his father and brother were at the sink doing the dishes. He was surprised when his father didn't immediately lay into him for his attitude, but Sam didn't give him much of a chance. Both John and Dean were quiet, and Sam knew that they were likely confused as to why what they had thought was a generous gift-and which Sam really did recognize was generous, at least in their own way-had led to Sam stomping out the way that he had. Jim, who Sam had nearly run into in the hallway, stood at the door and crossed his arms, intrigued to see what happened next.
"Dad, Dean, can we talk?" Sam asked. "I'm sorry I ran out, but can we please talk?"
John warily eyed Dean and nodded, turning the water off and drying his hands with the towel from the sink. Dean did the same and turned, waiting patiently for Sam to explain himself. As surprised as John had been at the outburst, he was even more surprised at Sam coming back and apologizing without any prompting.
Sam took a deep breath and began. "Thank you. What you guys offered me? It's incredible. It really is. But I need you guys to get something. That means I need you to hear me. Really hear me and take in what I'm saying, not just hear the words and come up with a way to respond. Can you please do that?"
Both John and Dean nodded, and Sam continued.
"I want six months. Six months of you and Dean staying here with me. Six months where you're here when I wake up and here when I go to bed. You go to school stuff with me, you go to sports games, you do all that stuff that normal families do."
"Sammy…" John said.
"Dad, you promised to listen to me." Sam said, not harshly but with a firm undertone that mimicked his father's so perfectly that even Dean stood a little straighter. "You and Dean got six months of being a family with mom and me. Six months of being a complete family that you both remember. Birthdays and Christmases and being sick and fights and all that stuff. All I'm asking is for a fair exchange. Six months of my own memories of being a family. If at the end of that six months, you and Dean still want to go and hunt, I won't stop you. Do we have a deal?"