What If Dean Had Asthma?

Chapter 5: Longing

Here he was in his new room. There were just a few boxes of his things on the side of the room that appeared to be his because the other side had already been taken. Here he was in Stanford, finally. It had been a lot of work to get here. There had been fights and moments of despair when he couldn't see the point. But, thanks to his extremely clever brain and Pastor Jim, Natalie, Ed and Barbara, he'd been able to pull himself together and get on with it.

He shrugged his jacket off and hugged it before laying it on the bed. It was odd how a road trip of "self-discovery" had given the jacket back its smell, the one that couldn't help but bring forth an overwhelming feeling of Dean and Dad.

Driving through anonymous towns and along endless country roads had brought back so many memories, Sammy wondered where they'd all been hiding for so many years. He listened to the tapes that hadn't been touched since Ed had accidentally smashed his tape player. Perhaps that had been for the best, because the music sounded so much better out on the open road than it had in his bedroom. He could almost envision Dean next to him head banging, or singing along until Dad told him to shut up or, if he was in a good mood, joined in. That was when Sammy would join in as well and the three of them would be speeding down the road singing, Dean always the most enthusiastic and Sammy the least because he didn't really know the words, but what did that matter when it was only him and his dad and Dean in the car?

Then Sammy had opened his eyes because he'd almost drifted completely off the road.

The first motel he'd stopped at, he'd asked for a room with two beds, because that was just what you did when you went to motels. He'd never needed less than two beds when he went to a motel and he'd heard his dad get the room so many times that it just slipped out, the same words and in the same tone as his dad used to use. He'd even received the slightly curious glance that his dad used to get when he ordered his sons into the room and to get the weapons. Except, Sammy only got the glance because he'd asked for two beds when there was only one of him.

Sammy had almost panicked the next morning when he woke up and saw the other bed empty and couldn't feel any evidence of Dean ever being the bed with him. Then his brain had caught up with the situation.

He'd begun to get back into eating in diners and fast food joints and picking up snacks at gas stations. It had surprised him how familiar it all still was. It had surprised him even more to find that his smile still got him some concessions in certain places, though for entirely different reasons now.

He appreciated the Impala's reliability, because he was never as good at car maintenance as his brother or father. The Impala had just kept going, would go anywhere so long as you kept her filled up with gas. Sammy gained something similar to his family's love of the car and how it had been everywhere with him, from the moment his mother had been taken until now, he loved it. Same as his dad had, same as Dean had. He felt a small jolt of guilt that he was driving the car when Dean had never got the chance, though not for lack of trying.

He really started get into the trip when he'd walked into the copy shop and dredged up every memory and piece of information he had about forging ID. Dean had explained it to him numerous times when there hadn't been anything else to talk about and there was nothing on TV and Sammy had just been bored.

It wasn't too bad for his first go, considering he was working from memories of nine years ago and it passed inspection in the few bars that Sammy tried it out in. He'd had to stop in a few bars, if only because Dean couldn't. He felt it was his duty to experience everything in his brother's stead, because he just knew Dean would have loved it the moment he stepped in. Sammy hadn't stopped in many, though, he didn't want to push his luck with the ID.

Sammy had also found the reason his father had frequented bars so often. Aside from the obvious draw, people were far less tight-lipped in bars and gave some good, if drunken, leads.

Yes, Sammy had gone hunting. He'd trawled papers for signs of the paranormal, checked the Internet for helpful hints and tips on killing things where John's journal was lacking (the Internet was such a useful invention, he wasn't sure how his dad had managed without it). Most leads had turned out to be dead ends and half of the real ones he had to pass on because they required a weapon he hadn't got, or more than one person, or just someone more skilled than he was. The few he did go on ended with him being beat to hell, because training sessions with Pastor Jim just weren't good enough substitutes for the real deal.

But killing that pack of three hellhounds had just felt so good. He hadn't a clue if they were the same ones but he hoped they were at least related.

The trip hadn't been as lonely as it sounds. He'd had regular emails from Natalie, Dean (Surrey, obviously) and his other school friends and he'd phoned to check in with Ed and Barbara every so often. Then there were the people he'd met on his travels, even another hunter on a job. Upon hearing Sammy's name he'd cocked his head to one side and mused aloud. Winchester? Why does that name sound familiar? Turned out he'd taken out an angry spirit named Winchester a few months back. Sammy's heart had frozen upon hearing that. What if Dean and Dad weren't somewhere among the clouds, where Sammy had always told himself they'd gone to make himself feel better? But it had been a Sarah Winchester, so Sammy had dismissed that thought because it was never going to lead anywhere good.

When he'd returned home with a prominent black eye, cuts and bruises all over and a broken finger, Barbara had given him a look of pure 'oh, Sammy!' while Ed had stood by looking concerned. Sammy had grinned at them. His life was good. He'd loved living with Dean and Dad, of course, but his life now had its perks, too. A stable home to go back to after all his travelling was just one of them.

The jacket had regained its characteristic smell of engine oil, smoke, musty motel and dead evil. It was still missing the underlying John Winchester that had once been there, but Sammy had long ago accepted that that was never coming back.

Ed and Barbara came into the room and looked all around, seeing if the room was good enough for their son. Apparently it was, which was good because there wasn't another one available. They were followed shortly by a guy about Sammy's age whom he could only assume to be his roommate. Barbara looked Sammy up and down before hugging him fiercely and Sammy didn't resist at all. Ed also pulled him into a hug, although a slightly less fierce one.

"You phone soon, all right?" said Barbara, and Sammy was sure he could hear her voice cracking.

"Of course!" he assured her before she hugged and kissed him all over again. Eventually, when Barbara could bring herself to, they left.

For a moment it was like he was nine again. Alone, stranded and with no idea of what the hell he was meant to be doing. Then his roommate introduced himself and the world started moving again.

"Hi, I'm Todd," they shook hands, "Your folks seem nice," he nodded after Ed and Barbara. Sam stared out the door after them.

"They're not... they're," even after all they'd done for him and how long he'd lived with them he still didn't think of them as his parents and they understood that. They couldn't replace Dad and Dean, no one could. But Sammy didn't want to launch into his life's story, not yet, "Yeah," he finished lamely. "I'm Sammy, by the way,"

"Cool," there was a short pause while the both of them took a moment to let everything sink in, "So, need any help unpacking?" Sammy accepted Todd's offer and together they unpacked the few boxes Sammy had with him, he still packed light.

The last things Sammy unpacked, aside from the weapons, which he didn't unpack at all, were his pictures. He had one of his mom and dad looking very happy together, he wished he could have known them then. Then, working in chronological order, was a picture of him, Dean and Dad sitting on the Impala after some trip, Sammy couldn't really remember it, not even who had taken the photo. It hadn't occurred to him that one day, the picture that was being taken might be a lonely reminder of the life he once had.

The next picture was of him with Ed and Barbara. It had been taken before he'd really started smiling again and so most people's first comment upon seeing it was Jesus, who died? and the smile faded from their faces as they heard the answer to a question they'd never think of asking ever again. Sammy liked it because of the pure, unabashed joy on Ed and Barbara's faces. They loved him even when he was being the most difficult child on Earth and it warmed his heart to know that.

There were a few pictures between then and high school with friends at birthday parties and one with Pastor Jim caught completely unawares (he wasn't fond of having his picture taken). The last picture frame was large and unwieldy and packed with photos of him out with his high school friends. It was a present from them at the end of the school year. They'd all made one for one other person in the group, like a secret Santa but with photos and nothing to do with Christmas.

Todd asked about every single photo. Sammy patiently answered them, it was bound to come up sooner or later anyway. Todd worked out for himself the answer to the who died? question. Sammy sincerely hoped he wasn't going to be this nosy about all aspects of life, because that could prove to be a problem.

The day passed in a blur of new people and new things. When he returned back to his room, Todd nowhere to be seen just yet, Sammy was completely wiped out. He fell back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was feeling almost nostalgic.

Perhaps it was all the new things around him that made him long for something old.

Perhaps it was seeing all those twenty-two-year-olds that made him wonder what Dean would look like, would act like, would be like if he had lived this long.

Perhaps it was the Motorhead playing on the radio.

All Sammy knew was the feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was a strange feeling, like he longed for something, without knowing exactly what it was. Like he longed for something he'd lost. But he wasn't mourning its loss, that was an equally familiar but altogether different feeling. Yes, he was sad that he'd lost whatever it was, but he was also glad that he'd ever had it. It was a bittersweet feeling.

It may seem obvious what he wanted, that he was longing for his family back and yes, somewhere inside him he always was, but the feeling could be about any number of things. Anything from the simple understanding Dean had had of him, to the way he used to be able to know exactly what his brother or dad would say in any given situation, or the way he used to comfort himself by remembering the feel of Dean in the same bed as him, or Dad ruffling his hair. Those were things now lost to the mists of time.

Sammy stretched and got himself ready for bed. God knew when Todd would be back, but Sammy hoped he had the decency to come back quietly.

He climbed into bed and snuggled down, wrapping the blanket tight around him. He wondered briefly if he was going to dream and what it would be about. He hoped there'd be no nightmares because, embarrassingly, he'd been known to wake up screaming. Well, it wasn't his fault the job got to him occasionally. And that poltergeist had thrown a severed hand at him which, while not very harmful, wasn't exactly pleasant.

But he hadn't woken up screaming in a long time, not since the dream he had where he was being attacked by a werewolf, completely out of his depth and quite literally with his back up against the wall. He yelled for help, in the hopes that anyone could hear him. Yeah right, he was in the middle of nowhere! But when the sharp teeth were just inches from his neck, there was the familiar sound of a gunshot.

The werewolf backed off and fell to the ground. Sammy spotted a gun lying behind it, still smoking. He picked it up and looked it, it was the one Dad had given him when he'd thought there was something in the closet. He looked everywhere for the person who'd shot the werewolf with it. He heard a familiar laugh and span quickly, only to catch a glimpse of a smirk before it faded away.

That dream had left him in a very good mood.

Maybe he wouldn't dream at all.

Sleep came quickly for Sammy. As his eyes were drifting closed, when his brain wasn't really awake and he forgot he wasn't back at home in his bed, the dark shadow of his shelves and the way his books were stacked on it looked like a man leaning against the wall. The the blanket wrapped around him, as well, if he thought about it, could almost be a person wrapped around him, protecting him from anything nasty that may decide to come his way. Sammy smiled. There were only two people he knew that fit the description.

His sleepy mind took that with him into his dreams where his brother, still all of thirteen years old came to visit him. Sammy heard all the news, how Dad had finally completed his mission of vengeance and had Mom returned to him. He heard that they were now living back in Lawrence and that Dean had been sent to retrieve their other son, if he didn't mind coming back.

Then Dean had asked him what he'd been up to, told him that he'd figured Sammy would have ended up in college some day, told him about all the hunts he'd missed. Told him about how much Dean had been looking forward to it being the four of them again, like it was meant to be. He mentioned that perhaps they could all go on a hunt together and wasn't that just a typical Winchester idea of family bonding?

Sammy agreed and said that perhaps they could meet up with Ed and Barbara and that he knew a girl called Natalie that he was sure Dean would like, not to mention his friend called Dean, which was a good, strong name, Dean insisted. Though they both agreed that Dean Winchester had a slightly better ring to it.

They'd laughed and joked. Sammy recounted some of his own hunts, watching Dean almost swell with pride. Dean expressed his surprise at Sammy even being able to take a fairy, considering how much of a girl he was and Sam hit him for that, but glowed upon hearing the underlying praise.

They could all be together again and it would be like before everything happened. He could be normal and he could be with his family, it was possible. This was what Dean was offering him and asking if he wanted to take it. He even had to ask? Sammy was so happy he could hardly breathe.

The next morning he thought perhaps waking up screaming would have been better.

TBC

Thank you for reading!