Chapter Eleven: Freebird
Several Months Later
Sam looked up from his TV show when he heard the familiar sound of the Impala outside.
He ran to the door and had it open even before his brother and father had exited the car.
Dean stepped inside, limping slightly and covered in sweat.
John closed the door after himself and grabbed a beer from the mini-fridge.
"Did you kill it?" Sam asked. They had spent two weeks hunting a troll that had killed several Amish children in a rural town in Pennsylvania.
"Bobby was right- a flint dagger to the heart does the trick," John commented.
Sam held back a frown. He had found out that information! John had just called Bobby to confirm it because he didn't trust his son.
"I'm gonna take a shower," Dean announced but received no response from either his Dad or brother.
John drank his beer as though he was the only person in the room.
Sam sighed and went back to his bed and turned on the TV again.
"Turn that off, Sam," John grumbled from the tiny kitchenette.
"But I was watching-" Sam began but John snapped.
"Are you deaf? Turn that off!"
Sam did as he was told and laid down on his bed, pulling the covers over his head.
He was still awake when he heard Dean leave the shower and his Dad get up and go to his room next door.
"Hey, Sammy," Sam felt the bed sink on the right side as his brother sat down, "Can you breathe under there?"
Sam pushed the blankets down, "I'm fine, Dean."
Dean didn't know what to say. Things had been like this since they'd left Pastor Jim's. John practically ignored Sam except when he wanted him to do research or was yelling at him.
He had tried to talk to their father, try to convince him to take Sam on hunts- even if they were just the routine Salt-And-Burns for ghosts- but John had apparently given up on his youngest son's abilities as a hunter.
"Get some sleep, Sammy," Dean said and ruffled his brother's dark hair, "Dad will probably want to leave tomorrow."
"Yeah," Sam muttered and rolled onto his side.
Sam closed his eyes but didn't sleep for a long, long time.
W
Sam picked at his breakfast. He wasn't really hungry. He hated eggs, why did his Dad always forget?
Or maybe he just doesn't care, Sam thought as he looked up to see John with his nose buried in his newspaper.
"Can I get you folks anything else?" The chirpy waitress asked, smiling at Dean.
"Some pancakes?" Dean asked; staring at his brother's barely touched scrambled eggs and toast.
"Dean," John said by way of warning but Dean just shook his head, "I'll pay for them myself."
"Coming right up," The waitress smiled again and left to fill the order.
John set his paper down.
"Dean, if he's not going to eat his breakfast than that's his own choice," John spoke as if Sam wasn't sitting across from them, "The boy doesn't need special treatment just because he's being moody."
"Dad, breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Dean recited with a smug grin.
John shook his head and picked up his paper again, "Fine, but don't make this routine. Sam has to learn that he's not always going to get what he wants. Life's not like that."
The waitress returned with a stack of pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup, "Here you go. Oh, and by the way, it's on the house."
She winked at Dean who gave his most charming smile, "Thanks, Sweetheart."
Dean pushed the plate toward his brother and Sam muttered his thanks, embarrassed that his brother had noticed he hadn't been eating.
Sam munched away at the pancakes- they weren't the best he'd ever had but they were pretty tasty once he'd smothered them in syrup- and didn't protest when his brother stole a couple from his plate.
"Where we heading next?" Dean asked, trying to cut the silence.
"Utah," John answered and folded his newspaper, finished with it.
"What's in Utah?" Dean asked as he mopped up the last bit of egg yolk with his toast.
"Caleb," John answered, "He called last night, wanted to see if I'd be willing to help him get rid of a hydra that's taken up residence in Great Salt Lake."
"You have to cut off its head and then seal the wounds with fire," Sam said through a mouthful of pancake.
Both Dean and John looked over at Sam.
"At least that's what it says in Greek mythology," Sam muttered, knowing his father would call Bobby anyway.
"That's actually really good, Sammy," Dean said, "I'd never think of that."
John's only comment was to tell Sam to finish eating so they could get back on the road.
SPN
Dean stretched his legs as he stepped out of the car in Ogden, Utah. The city was ten miles from Great Salt Lake and nestled the very foot of the Wasatch Mountains. Dean paused for a moment to admire the snow-capped peaks before going to the trunk of the car and grabbing the duffle bags as John stalked toward the motel's office.
"Hey, Princess, carry something," Dean handed Sam his duffle and the two boys leaned against the Impala, waiting for their father to return with a room key.
I should tell Dad after this hunt, Dean thought; thinking of the manila envelope carefully concealed in the bottom of his own duffle bag.
Dad's usually more open minded after a successful hunt.
Dean straightened up when he saw his father approaching, a room key dangling from his hand and a sour look on his face.
"What's up?" Dean asked as he fell in step with his Dad and Sam followed along behind them.
"They only had one room left available," John grumbled. They walked to the very end of the row of rooms and John pointed to a dark brown-painted door.
Dean shrugged, it wasn't the end of the world if the three of them had to share a room- they had done so before, especially when Sam and Dean were younger- and didn't really know what his father's problem was.
John unlocked the door and stepped inside to do an initial sweep of the room.
Dean pushed inside and sat his bag down on one of the two beds.
"Hm, I'll sleep on the floor," He offered, knowing that Sammy would like a bed and John probably needed one.
His Dad nodded, "I'll pull the car around."
Dean peered at his brother once John had left the room.
The kid seemed so sad, Dean noticed.
"Hey, Sammy, since it's such a nice day out, you wanna go down to the local park or something?" Dean asked and received a shrug as a response.
"C'mon Sam," Dean tried again, "I'll buy you a hotdog."
Dean smiled when his brother rolled his eyes but gave a small smile, "Okay."
The grumbling engine of the Impala told them that their Dad had returned. He set the room key on the large, black television.
The older man stepped inside but didn't settle down, "I'm meeting Caleb at the lake. I'll be back later; take care of yourselves."
With that, John took off, leaving his boys on their own.
Dean stretched his arms over his head, lacing his fingers together and grimaced as his back cracked.
"What do you say we explore a little bit?" He suggested and Sam followed his brother out the door.
W
Dean paced the upstairs hallway. He had to tell his father but he wasn't sure how.
Tough luck; Dad needs to know now; I can't wait any longer.
They had arrived in Grand Junction, Colorado six hours ago- John had wanted to leave Utah as soon as the hydra had been killed- and thanks to their Dad's help, Caleb had dispatched the monster within a span of eight days.
Dean saw that his father seemed in good spirits, a beer in one hand and pen in the other, writing in his journal.
John had found them a condemned house that seemed in good enough condition- its former occupants had been evicted and the house seized by the bank- so they could stay as long as they needed.
Dean grabbed hold on the banister in one hand, the envelope in the other and made his way downstairs.
"Hey, Dad," Dean said and John looked up from his book.
"What do you need, Dean?" His Dad asked and took a sip of his beer.
Dean swallowed, "I want to go to college."
John didn't reply; he just stared at his oldest son.
"I got a scholarship, Dad," Dean showed his father the letter, "A full-ride to Stanford."
John refused to look at the letter.
"It's in California," Dean continued.
John closed his eyes for a moment.
"Dad, please say something," Dean begged, "Talk to me."
His father took a swig of beer and scribbled something in his journal. Dean continued as though his father was listening.
"I just can't forget, Dad… I can't forget Mom; I can't forget what life was like before she died. I want to return to that normal life, you know? This life isn't for me, I'm not made for it," Dean spoke, his voice cracking as he thought about his mother.
"I'm not leaving forever you know," Dean said, "I still want to see you guys."
"You're not alone, Dad," Dean concluded, "You've got Sam. Give him a chance, you know, he might surprise you."
John just nodded mutely and refused to look at his son.
"I'm leaving tonight," Dean said, "There's a Greyhound station not far from here… I've already got a ticket to Palo Alto."
Dean realized that his father wasn't going to say anything and so he headed back upstairs. He stopped when he saw his little brother standing on the stairs.
"Dean?" Sam asked; his voice wavering.
"Sammy-" Dean began but his brother ran up the stairs, shoes pounding on the stripped wood floor.
Damn it, Dean cursed, and headed after his brother.
He opened the door to their shared bedroom and saw Sammy sitting on his bed, tears shining in his eyes.
"Why are you leaving?" Sam asked as he stared accusingly at his brother's stuffed duffle bag.
"I'm going to school, Sammy," Dean said softly, "I'm going to get an education."
"Why?" Sam asked, "You need to stay here!"
Dean shook his head, "I'm sorry, Sammy, but I'm no hunter, not like Dad."
He went over to his bed and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He reached out to ruffle his brother's dark hair and Sammy pulled back.
"Take me with you, Dean! Please!" Sam begged.
Dean's heart skipped a beat, "I can't Sammy; you're not old enough."
Dean turned and left the room. Don't lose your nerve now, Dean; he told himself, if you do you'll never leave this life.
He heard his brother following him, sniffling, and was sure Sam was glaring daggers into his back.
Dean didn't see his father. He walked down the hall and opened the front door. It was raining outside but Dean didn't care.
"If you walk out that door, Dean," John's voice startled his son. He was standing in the kitchen doorway, holding another beer in his hand, "Don't you ever come back."
Dean didn't even look at his father, he just yanked open the screen door and stepped outside.
Walking down the street, Dean told himself that it was for the best. He didn't belong on the road; he'd be happier at school, with regular people… with a regular life. Besides, Dad had Sam after all… despite what he might think, the kid was a hunter. Sam knew nothing else besides hunting and with Dean out of the picture, John was sure to realize that and pretty soon he'd get over Dean's absence.
1. Chapter title taken from a Lynyrd Skynyrd song of the same name.
2. Thanks to OtakTouch, pottyandweezlbe89, LeighAnnWallace, Samstruck, cold kagome, ladykale1985, SPN Mum, and Eris-R-Renee for reviewing.
3. Thanks to everyone who favourited/alerted.
4. Reviews make my week!
5. Uh oh. Dean's gone! What's gonna happen to Sammy now? Things can only get worse from here.