Chapter 2
The next morning, John was awake with the birds, despite only getting to bed gone 2am. The Marine training never leaves you, he would say. Sam was the next one up, showered and dressed before Dean had even stirred. He was stood in the kitchen thoughtfully chewing a piece of wheat toast when Sam finally decided; it was now or never.
"Uh, Dad?" John's back was turned so Sam called out to his father, voice raised more than he intended out of nerves.
"Son?"John said expectantly, when Sam didn't continue.
"So I graduated high school this year, with honours, as you know,"Sam signed and spoke quickly, tripping over his tongue a few times.
"I know, kid. I'm very proud."And John was proud, he'd planned the day out to go to graduation and everything. Even bought a new suit.
"My teachers were asking about my college plans, and when I said I didn't have any they were curious." He had stopped voicing as he signed, too afraid of being betrayed by his shaky speech.
"Uh huh. Well I get it's hard, you can't exactly tell them why you're not going to college."
"ButwhatifIdidgotocollege?" It all came out in one stream of signs almost faster than the human eye.
John blinked, trying to understand. "Sorry son, say that again, slower."
"What if I went to college?"
Silence.
"Sammy…"
"No Dad, listen. You and Dean don't need me here for hunting. You'd do much better without me. Plus if I can get a good job once I finish college, I can contribute some. You won't have to hustle pool for money, or take crappy garage jobs."
Sam's signs were forceful, with small claps coming from his hands every time skin met skin. His breaths came out in little huffs as his mouth moved soundlessly, punctuating each point that was important to him. He was excited, and wanted to prove to his father that he'd really thought about this.
"Crappy jobs huh? Did you ever stop to think I might enjoy those jobs?"John challenged back.
"I didn't mean it like that, I just want to be able to help more," Sam sighed, exasperated that he misspoke.
"You do contribute well enough. Right here. With your family."John had his 'end of discussion' face on, but that only ever spurred Sam on further.
"Dad, I really want to go. School is what I'm good at, I could go really far. I've already applied and been accepted for late admission…"
That revelation is what set John off.
"You applied without telling me first?" he bellowed, dropping the ASL entirely.
The shouting from the kitchenette woke Dean up, and when he realised it was his Dad shouting at Sammy, he sprung out of bed, padding through in just a pair of sweatpants.
"What is going on?"he signed in large gestures and spoke slowly.
"You gonna tell him, Sammy, or should I?" John fumed. Dean could tell how mad he was from the red of his face.
"Sammy?" Dean looked at his younger brother, full of concern, but this just added to Sam's annoyance somehow.
"First off, it's S A M," he finger spelled. "Sammy is a chubby 12 year old. If I had any actual Deaf friends, maybe I'd have a better sign name by now!"
There was a lot of sound coming from one person who wasn't actually speaking, between his slapping signs, smacking lips, and whooshing breaths. It startled Dean as he hadn't seen Sam this worked up in a while. He could usually sense an argument between his brother and father brewing, but this one came out of nowhere.
"Ok then S A M, what is wrong?"
"Dean, I got into college," Sam said simply, with the biggest puppy-dog eyes imaginable.
"Wow!" Dean's first reaction was of course one of pride for his baby bro. All the shit Sammy… or Sam had seen, all the challenges he had faced, and he still manages to get into college.
"Where?"
" Gallaudet. It's a Deaf school. But also…" Sam paused. "Stanford!"
"Holy crap!"Dean was super impressed. He may not know much about all this school stuff, but even he had heard how good Stanford was.
"Yes Sam, that's fantastic. Son, I am very proud. But did you really think you'd ever be able to go?"John looked almost sad when he said this.
"Why not? It can't be the deaf thing, a is for people exactly like me, an has a fantastic disabilities support programme."
"Don't do that, dude, don't drop the D word in like that,"Dean baulked.
Sam looked visibly upset at this.
"Deaf?"
"No Sammy, disabled. You're not 'disabled', I hate that term."Dean never saw his little brother as anything but just Sam, and seeing others cram the 'disability' cap on him made him sick to his stomach.
"Oh I'm sorry, Dean would you prefer 'differently abled'? Don't dictate to me what I am or am not!" Sam was pissed again.
"Don't turn this round on me because you're pissed at Dad! You know I've only ever had your back," Dean spat back.
"Have you? Because I don't see you having my back here, Dean!"
"Boys, stop it. Sam, you can't go to college. I'm sorry, but you just can't. End of discussion. I have to get ready for one of my crappy garage jobs."John looked tired out, but like he could explode again at any moment.
"No, not end of discussion. I want a good reason why I can't do this!" Sam was so worked up and angry now that small, uncontrollable sounds were escaping his throat, ones he wasn't aware he was making. The sounds carried a guttural air making him sound furious as all hell.
"Ok, here's one; how are you going to pay for this fancy college education? Huh?!" John exploded right back at Sam, and now they were up in each other's faces.
"Scholarships. I've been offered a full ride for both," Sam looked defiant, like he'd won that one.
"Good for you, Sam. What about us, huh? What about leaving us behind to go chase this fantasy of yours?" John spat, red mist clouding his vision.
"What? Sign, Dad. Is it that fucking hard?! I can't understand you!" Sam understood the majority of what John had said, he was just being obstinate at this point.
"Don't you cuss at me, boy! You're not too old that I won't stuff a bar of soap in your mouth to clean it up a bit."
John had never used any form of corporal punishment on the boys, but he wasn't above threatening to 'get his belt' and such, terminology probably learned from his own father.
"Don't you mean wash my hands? I never actually spoke the word," Sam could be a sarcastic little shit when he was angry.
"Ok smartass! What if we're on a hunt, and you're not there to back your brother up, Sam? If Dean gets killed while you're off reading some books, trying to be a professor or some shit, how would you feel then?" John responded, venomously.
"Hey, don't bring me into this crap! I don't need no damn rescuing,"Dean interjected.
"Law, Dad. I want to study law. You've not even asked what my major would be." Sam ignored Dean completely. "And Dean doesn't need my back-up."
"Smart, Sammy,"John had his own sarcasticstreak. "How is a deaf lawyer going to fare in court?"
"Dad! Not cool!"Dean was stunned that their father could say those words to Sam, that he'd even think them. If Sam wanted to be a Lawyer, he definitely wouldn't be held back by a simple lack of hearing.
"I'm sorry, I just don't see it,"John shrugged.
"If Sam wanted to be a lawyer, he totally could. Hell, that Daredevil dude from the comics is a blind lawyer, so why not?"It might have sounded comical, but Dean was being serious. "But Dad is right about one thing. You've got a job to do here, Sammy. We need you. We've still not found the thing that killed Mom, do you really want to miss out on ganking that son of a bitch?!"
"I've had it!" Sam finally completely lost it. "There is no good enough reason for keeping me here. Face it, Dean, if we were ever going to find the demon that killed Mom, wouldn't we have done it by now? I'm sick of chasing this… thing! I'm going to college, I'm going to have a life, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
The talk about Mary's killer tipped John over the ledge, and he said the final words he would regret in the years to come;
"Sammy, if you even THINK about leaving here, you had best never come back."
As soon as John had spoken the words he knew it was too late. He hoped somehow that as he hadn't signed them, maybe it wouldn't be taken seriously, but he was also too stubborn to take them back.
A silence fell on the room as all three men looked at each other, breathing heavily, faces tinged red.
Sam was the first to move, turning slowly and walking over to his bed to fetch his bag. Tears stung at the back of his eyes, but he'd be damned if he let the others see him cry.
A hand grasped his shoulder. It was Dean tugging him round to face him.
"Sammy, wait. He didn't mean that." Green eyes full of worry looked into Sam's, pleading silently.
"I know," Sam lied. "Only going to the library. I need to email the colleges back and say I won't be going." He hung his head in mock defeat.
"Ok." Dean visibly relaxed slightly. "We can talk more about it tonight, yes? You know how the old man gets." He smiled at his baby brother, nervously.
"Sure. Later." Sam's voice was thick with emotion and unspent tears, and it broke Dean to hear it.
"You want a ride?" Dean asked, hopefully, but Sam's back was already turned and he didn't see the question. Watching his little brother walk out of the door, Dean tried to ignore the pit in his stomach.
Later when Sam got home, Dean tried to act like normal with him, offering to let him shoot the brand new handgun he got from the pawn shop, even made him a smoothie full of the green crap the kid liked. But Sam wasn't entertaining any of it. He'd never tell Dean this, but he'd spent a good half hour down by the train tracks sobbing uncontrollably, wracked with pain and fear of what his father had said. He tried to kid himself that he'd read John's lips wrong, and that his dad would never banish him from their home.
Then he remembered that they didn't even have a real home, so what did it matter. Sam wanted a home. He wanted four walls of his own, and a kitchen with a proper full-size cooker, not one of those crappy hotplates in the motels. He wanted friends who he could get to know properly, without having to leave again after a month or two. The more he thought about college, the more he realised there was no way he was ever going to let this go.
He dried his tears, and went straight to the library to use one of the computers there. He opened up the video call website they used when on the road, and dialled the only person he could think of to help; Uncle Bobby. He stared at the image of himself from the webcam while he waited for the call to connect, noticing how black the bags under his eyes were.
Finally the call connected, and a gruff-looking guy in a trucker cap and flannel appeared on screen.
"Hi Uncle Bobby," Sam spoke first.
Their Dad's hunter friend, and stand-in uncle for the boys could never managed to pick up very much ASL, as they weren't together often enough. But he had always had an uncanny ability to talk to Sam, ever since he was tiny.
"Sam? What's up, kid? Your Dad need help on a case again?" Bobby pressed his face closer to the camera so Sam could read his lips.
"No, Bobby. I need your help."
"I'm all ears, kid."
It took a few days to get everything together, to pack up his menial belongings, and arrange the bus tickets to South Dakota. In the early hours of the morning, before even John was awake, Sam picked up his bags and headed for the door, tossing a pre-written note on Dean's bedside table. He took one last look at his sleeping family, then soundlessly, and without hesitation, he stepped out of the door, and didn't look back.
A few hours later, Dean woke to find the motel room empty. John had gone to work, but where was Sammy? He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, then noticed the envelope with his name on, unmistakably written by his little brother. He tore the paper open, his heart pounding in his chest, already knowing what he was going to read.
Dean,
I can't do this any more. Dad said if I left, not to come back again, so I won't. Don't come looking for me. Please.
I'm sorry.
Sam.