Side story 2: The Journey Continues

1997

The sky is a glowing red and orange as the sun sets in the distant. Sam is heading back to the motel apartment in hurried footsteps.

Just a second ago, he had a really strange feeling, like he had forgotten something... But he brushes it off, as his mind whirled over the looming catastrophe that awaits him back in the apartment.

The worst case scenario will be that John is already home from his hunt. Sam imagine himself coming up with various excuses to cover his tracks. He had the foresight to briskly wash and change out of his soccer jersey right after the game. Will John believe him if he claims that he went out to buy a drink? But his backpack will be a giveaway... What about going for a school event that he had forgotten till after John left? Sam let out a huge sigh as he knows that John will probably see through all his lies and that he should just be prepared for whatever consequences that befall him.

However, if Sam got lucky and John isn't home yet, things may play out differently for him. Of course, Sam had to factor in another variable that is - Dean. Sam is almost certain that Dean will not tell on him when John returns. Almost - as he noted that their last conservation did not exactly end on a friendly tone. But even if Dean does not dice him out, he will still be extremely mad. And an angry Dean also means nothing good for Sam. Though, in this case, he'd rather deal with Dean than Dad as he imagine Dean will be much easier to appease. Maybe he'll take a swing or two if that makes Dean feel better...but Dad will notice if his face gets bruised... Maybe he can offer to do all the household chores; or make dinner for both of them for a week; or both...

As he busies strategizing all the possibilities in his head, he has already reached and is standing outside the front door. He tried on the door knob but as expected, it's been locked. He took a deep breath as he braces himself to face the music - the yelling...and knocks. It seems like forever, as he stood there in suspense, before the door cracks open and a part of Dean's face could be seen through the slit. It then closes again as Dean unchains it and opens the door fully.

"Wow, look who's back!" Dean exclaimed in exaggerated cheerfulness.

"Hey, Dean..." Sam greeted bashfully, giving the house a quick scan after getting in.

"You're early, Ronaldo. Dad's not home yet," Dean told him as he locked the door.

"Oh," Sam replied indifferently, though his insides just melted in relieve.

His shifts his attention now onto Dean, who doesn't seem that angry, to Sam's surprise, though he can't be sure if this is the calm before the storm or if Dean is really cool about it.

"You'd better chuck your dirty clothes underneath the laundry. I don't want to handle your corpse," Dean reminded.

"Right," Sam answered and took out his muddy clothing and hides them discreetly among the pile.

Sam turns around to see Dean sorting out the stuff in his duffel bag on the sofa. He sure doesn't look like he's angry, but Sam decides to follow through with his original plan.

"Erm, Dean? You want dinner? I can make some for us," Sam suggested.

Dean glances at the clock which shows it's nearly 7.30pm.

"No. You practice, I'll knock something up," Dean left his belongings and pushed himself off the sofa.

"Ok," Sam agreed immediately and went to pick up the gun parts on the table which are exactly where he had left them to be.

Dean goes over to the kitchen and digs out some canned food. Campbell Soup and tomato sauce sardines - sounds like a plan. He poured out the condensed chicken soup into a pot and adds water to it before heating it up. As he stirs the soup over the stove, he notices, out the corner of his eyes, Sam re-assembling the gun parts while occasionally sneaking peeks at him. Dean finds it pretty amusing to see Sam tip-toeing around him, not knowing when, or if, he is going to blow up.

Actually, Dean was on tenterhooks all evening and his heart had definitely skipped a beat when the door sounded. He had been almost as relieve as Sam when he opened the door to find his midget brother standing outside instead of their Dad.

Dean doesn't need an apology from Sam. He doesn't want one either. He did not regret in the slightest, letting Sam slipped out for the match, even if it means disobeying orders and possibly getting raged at by Dad. He is just glad that for this evening, at least, Sam could be a regular 14-year-old kid, doing 14-year-old kid stuff that he wants to do...

Sam fixes the gun while trying to inconspicuously assess Dean's mood right now. He ought to apologise for running out without a word, but he does not want to say anything that will potentially push the trigger button in Dean. He disassembled and assembled the gun for a few more times while deliberating about it.

"Er...Dean?" Just when Sam plucks up the courage, the door sounded with a familiar knock. Dad's home. Sam stops talking at once and continues on with his practice while Dean opens the door.

"Hey, Dad," Dean greeted.

"Hey," John drags his tired body over the threshold and dumps his bag on the kitchen table. He glances over to see Sam with his head down, juggling with the gun parts.

"You've been practicing?" John asked.

"Yea," Sam replied simply and he took a quick peek towards Dean, who went back to quietly stirring the soup.

"Alright then, let's see what you've got," John said as he took the parts from Sam and assembled them into one piece before handing it back to him.

Sam takes the gun confidently and began stripping it. It wasn't long before he tears it down completely and fixes it back up again. He held out the gun back to John and John picks it up and turns it over for a cursory check.

"Not bad," he complimented. "But keep on practicing. I mean it when I said you should do it with your eyes closed. You never know when you'll have to do this in the dark," John added.

"Ok," Sam replied obediently.

John nodded at Sam and turns around to look over at Dean with the soup and canned sardine on the table.

"Is that all we've got?" He sighed. "You boys eat, I'll grab some sides for ya," John said as he took his wallet and head out to the nearby convenient store.

Dean scoops the chicken soup into two bowls and opens the canned sardine. The two of them sit side by side, with Dean at one end of the table. The opened can of tomato sardine placed in between the two.

Sam stirs his soup thoughtfully while Dean is already gulping down his fifth spoon.

"Dean?" Sam took advantage of John's temporary absence and said.

"What," Dean replied shortly.

What shall Sam say? He's sorry that he ran out on him? He owes him one for not telling Dad?

"Thanks," he said in the end. Indeed, between the two, not many words are needed. They know each other so well that one simple "Thanks" is enough to convey the message, that Dean will understand.

Dean takes a quick glance at Sam and their eyes meet for a moment before they both look away. "Shut up and eat," Dean told him with a "no chick-flick moment" attitude.

"Jerk," Sam smiled.

"Bitch," Dean smiled back.

~ The End ~

I had a brief idea on how to write for both scenarios – one where John got home before Sam and one where he got home after. However, I thought it flows better with the main story to have it more Sam and Dean centered, so I decided on the latter~

Ps: There's also the scenario where John came up behind Sam when he is standing outside the door - but that's kinda too melodramatic isn't it? I didn't want to give Sam a heart attack XD

It could easily have been young Dean who got zap into the future, which will be really interesting too. But I didn't have a plot for that, unlike for young Sam, which popped readily into my mind. Hopefully, something will cross my mind cause I'll like to read the young Dean version of this story~ (unlikely tho, seeing as how I have quite a few other ideas that I wanna start on)

I'm sure there are many Dean-centred time travel stories out there but being a rather picky (& lazy) reader, it's hard to find something that exactly suits my taste *sighs* ›‹ That's one of the reasons why I started writing my own fics~ (The irony of how sometimes being lazy can become a motivation too XD)