John darted his eyes from one son to the other, boggling at their silence. "You two are soaked to the bone! Dean I just left you 15 minutes ago- dry and driving the car. Care to explain how you screwed that up?"
"He didn't do anything." Sam barked equally as loud as his father. "
"Well, sir..." Dean began to formulate some lie that was just ordinary enough, but just wild enough to get their Dad on their side, at least enough to defuse the anger away from a severe punishment.
"You know your lies always start with a well sir."
"No they don't." Sam defended.
"We'll get to you in a moment. Don't you worry, Sam."
John gave him the all-knowing disapproving eye. Unbeknownst to Sam he was inspecting them both for injuries, but Dean gave his father the "we're both okay" face.
"Dean! Report right now."
"No! Don't you take this out on him," Sam started. "This is my fault."
"You bet it was!" Dean confirmed, taking John's focus off of Sam. "You should have seen it Dad! I got back and Sam waited up for us, cause we were late. He was about to call out Bobby and send out a search party. But we made it back before, so he tried to help me square away the weapons. Somethin' about us needing some sleep. He told me I looked like hell." Dean offered an excuse his Dad would take pride in.
"Oh, did you now" John beamed, not really buying it all yet.
"No..." Sam defied the story, all the while Dean stepped on his foot to tell him to shut up.
"And his face- did he happen to have a gun go off in his face? Huh Dean?"
"No sir. That's why he's all moody. This huge guy... bigger than you...see...I was uh... hitting the head... and Sam was outside taking stock for the next hunt when this dude starts picking on his chic. Totally jerk. Sam steps in and pops the guy one. I get out there -the chic is running off and the ass is beating up on Sam. I mean DUDE! Major action... but Sam scraps him good... just too much for us to handle."
"And the rock salt on your shirt?"
"Just wait! I'm getting to that part." Dean smiles his best cheesy smile. "So I had the gun still on me. I know... I know... sloppy."
"Extra chores later."
"NO!" Sam demands. "He won't!"
Dean flashed Sam the look that screamed DUDE and that extra choices would be lucky for them both. "Yeah and I put a round of rock salt in the dude's ass. Never seen anyone run like that before."
Sam and John both ignored Dean' story now.
"Killer right Dad? Sam did us proud."
"And I guess you get to join Dean in extra work and I think we need more combat training for you until you learn to not get…" Dean's story was plausible and had just the right amount of bragging the Dean did in all his hunting stories, but this was too reckless. He needed them safe, not fighting things or people they weren't ready for.
"NO! I WON'T!"
"Sam! Please…." Dean urged, soft and pleading.
"You think you run this family?"
Sam eyes started to twitch as his hands made tight fists. Then he screamed as loud as he possibly could. "ARGGGGGGGG! You make me crazy! What family?"
"Dad... can't we just eat and..."
"This one- this family, Sam!"
"You mean Dean! Dean is my family. You're just a visitor."
"Young man. You are damn lucky..."
"Yeah... we are… Lucky that we don't see you more often. Yeah, you're right. Cause then maybe Dean could see that you don't give a damn about anyone but you. Tell me Dad, what day is this?! Do you even know?"
"Sam... please... don't... you can't fight all the time."
"If you won't stand up to him, I will."
"Your brother respects me."
"No, he loves you and I don't know why. Every damn year you forget us. You forget him."
"I could never forget either of you." John said emotion building.
"That's absolute crap! You ignore him every year!!" Sam interrupted, a bit maniacally. Every year- no Christmas- no July 4th. Dean makes sure I have something every year on my birthday. Hell, I didn't even know the date of his for all of the fake IDs you have given us. But this year, I know… and you have no right to tell me to respect my family when you can't be there for us!" There was a long awkward pause after Sam's outburst.
"It's okay Sammy...he doesn't have to..."
"YES HE DOES! He forgets your birthday every damn time and I wasn't beaten up saving someone. I wanted…" He said softly to Dean then turned anger back at his father. "You can't tell me what to do cause you're never here to tell me what to do. When I have problem I'm on my own or Dean helps me. Strangers I met hours ago helped me more! Damn, Bobby is there for us more than you. Your own sons! You..."
"Boy. You best shut your mouth..."
"Dad, please..." Dean steps in between the shouting match. His green eyes overcast with glassiness. "It's okay. I don't mind. It's not important."
Somehow the older boy's pleas gave John pause and he simply glared at Sam that this discussion wasn't over. Dean took the cue that John was now in line and turned the same begging expression on Sam.
"Sammy...I..."
"Don't ask me..."
"Please…I know... but just for now... okay?"
The boy sighed, letting Dean have his way, but gave John an equally threatening glare.
Blowing air past his lips, Dean sounded a bit like an exasperated Mr. Ed. "Good... let's eat... I'm starved."
"Here..." John said, handing Dean the Impala's keys.
"OH... I almost forgot I have to square away the car."
"You're old enough now to handle the responsibility."
Sam was about to protest the idea, but John spoke first. "Remember be good to her and she's be really good to you. I expect you to clean and wax her every week and you have to teach Sam how to drive her."
"Yes sir."
This really got Sam's goat, more chores for Dean, especially after the argument they just had. "You can't be serious!"
"Think you can do that?"
"Yes sir."
"Good, then put your keys away and eat now."
"Sir?"
"I said put your keys away."
"But these are yours."
"Not anymore... She's yours to take care of."
"What? You know I will take care of your car."
"No you won't." Sam ordered, boring an imaginary hole in John's forehead.
"Did I just speak in Latin?"
"No sir?" Dean muttered confused.
"Then go take care of YOUR car?"
"She's mine? Really mine?"
You're giving Dean the Impala?" Sam puzzled.
"He is 16 right?" he offered just to prove to Sam he did know something about his children. There was no malice, just a reaffirmation that Sam didn't know everything
"Yes sir. I am."
"All boys need a car at 16."
"She's really mine... Really?"
"And all that comes with added responsibility."
Dean's eyes got big and his hand shook so hard that he almost dropped the keys in the floor. But his fingers weren't about to let go of those, not in a million years.
"WHOOO! SAM!! She's mine... COME ON!" Dean jumped up, pulling his little brother by the wet, muddy collar.
"What about dinner?" John asked a small light of joy in his eyes as he watched Dean's excitement.
"Wait a minute…" Sam started, trying to grasp what had just happened, pulling away from his brother
"COME ON! We're going for a drive!" Dean was grabbing Sam's jacket , tossing it at his little brother, all while he stuffed a dinner roll in his mouth as he ran out the door.
"Hey, Sam!" John barked.
"Here it comes," Sam mumbled, thinking of the lecture or threat that always followed their arguments. This time he wasn't going to take it. He was going to get the last word if it killed him.