Still don't own Supernatural. Not suing would be appreciated. I have no money, I promise, so please just let me use the brilliant characters.

Thanks for the reviews. (this is my first, angsty, teen sam fic, so if I'm not doing it right, let me know) I also know that there hasn't been a lot of Dean, but that should be chaging within the next chapter or so.

Sam is 15, and Dean is 19

-/\-SN-/\-

John pulled up in front of the house and turned off the car. Nobody moved or spoke for several very long minutes. He took the keys out of the ignition and tossed them to Dean.

"We'll be inside, shortly." John's words were clipped.

Dean glanced back at Sam and then left the car. That was Sam's last hope, at least with Dean there'd be a barrier, but now it was just John and Sam.

"Come up front, Sam."

Sam stepped from the car, he thought briefly about running, but that would only make things worse. Going against all his instincts, he climbed in the front seat and closed the door.

John tightened his hands around the steering wheel, his eyes straight ahead. "What did he tell you?"

Sam looked at his lap. "Who?"

"Matt."

He shrugged. "He was scared."

"Why?"

"He knew the boys in the car, they beat him up."

"Does Matt have something to do with this?"

Sam's head shot up. "No."

John looked over at his son. "I need you to tell me as hunter, not as his friend."

Sam set his jaw at the words. "You tell me, you've been doing this longer. I'm sure you know everything now."

"Sam."

"He just needed someone to talk to. You just don't want me to be happy. You never have." He didn't know why he was saying those things, but he couldn't stop.

John's eyes were hard, his voice low. "Don't you dare to presume what I want for you. Do you understand me?"

Sam didn't anwer.

"Samuel."

Sam reached for the door handle, but John engaged the locks.

"Is Matt involved?"

"It doesn't matter what I say. You'll just think I'm wrong, like always."

"Answer the question."

Sam took a breath. "I don't know, because I was there as a friend, not a hunter." He found the lock and bolted from the car.

John watched him run up the stairs. He took a few breaths to calm down before he followed his son inside. Dean was on the couch when John enetered.

Dean stood. "Dad?"

"It's fine, Dean." John went to the kitchen and pulled down the bottle of whisky and a glass. "Go talk to your brother."

"I don't think he'll be too happy with me, either."

John took a drink. "I'm not asking, Dean."

Dean turned and went down the hall. He pushed open the bedroom. Sam was sitting on his bed, his back against the wall and his eyes hard. He didn't say a word as Dean came in.

"Sammy."

"Don't." He spat.

"Sam."

Sam looked away. "You're only here because he made you come in. You would have rather snuck in after I fell asleep."

Dean had to admit, the kid knew him. "He was just worried about you."

Sam fished a silver plated switch knife from his pocket and threw it to the center of the room. "I'm not stupid."

Dean's eyes were on the knife. "Do you think Matt had something to do with this?"

He sighed and then looked at Dean, all the anger gone. "He said that good things happen right after bad things do, karma. He couldn't remember the four hours before he called me. I don't know."

"I had to tell him, Sam." Dean's voice was quiet. Why did doing the right thing make him feel lower than dirt.

Sam's eyes flickered to his brother. "You always did play for his team first." He got up off the bed and left the room.

"Your team's always first, Sammy, always." He said to the empty room around him.

Sam didn't know where to go, the apartment was too small, the walls too confining. He reached for the chain over the door.

"Sam."

He didn't see his dad sitting at the table. He leaned against the door and looked at the warn carpet.

"I caught Dean trying to slip out, he wouldn't have said anything." He was trying to make amends, trying to bring his boy back.

"Right. Funny thing about lies is they only work when the other person involved doesn't tell the truth." He sighed. "So, am I grounded?"

"School, home and with us hunting."

Sam nodded. "If that's what you want." He returned to his room before John could say anything else.

Dean looked up as Sam came in. Sam said nothing and got into bed. He rolled towards the wall.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Dean was sincere.

Sam didn't say anything.

In school the next day, Sam wasn't the only one giving the silent treatment. Matt was withdrawn and didn't say a word. Sam tried to talk to him, about anything other than the previous night. If Matt did answer, it was one word, monotone.

Sam cornered Matt at the end of school. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." Matt pushed past him and escaped to the sidewalk.

"Matt." Sam followed. "I can help you."

Matt turned, his eyes flashed. "I don't need help." He walked a little faster.

"You did last night." Matt stopped and Sam caught up to him.

"I never should have sat with you that first day." He muttered and took off at a run.

Sam was left in the middle of the sidewalk. He walked the rest of the way home alone.

If someone had been able to compare Sam and Matt, they would have seen the exact same thing. At school they did their work, sat alone at lunch, went home. At home, they spoke when spoken to, retreated to their room when they could and refused to explain anything.

It had been a month since the car accident, and nearly that long since Sam had had a real conversation with Matt, a conversation like they used to have. Sam lay on his bed, his eyes on the ceiling. Dean and John were at the library, trying to piece it all together. The phone ran and Sam considered just letting it, but then he figured that if it was his dad calling, he'd be in trouble for not answering.

He pushed himself off the bed and went to the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Sam?" Matt's voice came through the other end, scared like that one night.

"Matt. Are you okay?"

"I don't know." His voice broke. "I'm sorry."

"Forget it. Where are you?"

"You know the climbing tree just off the trail in the woods?"

Sam had been there for a class trip for biology, they all had. "Yeah. Where we went that one day in school?"

"Meet me there in an hour." He hung up before Sam could say anything.

Dean and John came in the door, Sam automatically lowered his eyes to the floor, his jaw set.

"Sam, get ready to go tonight." John's voice was neutral.

"Go where?"

"The woods. We're leaving in ten minutes."

Sam looked out the window at the oncoming night and thought that he wouldn't be surprised if it rained. He went to his room and pulled on a sweatshirt and his jacket. He shoved his sliver knife in his pocket and found his boots under his bed. Dean was doing the same thing across the room.

The three were out the door and in the car in ten minutes. Sam slouched in the back seat, his eyes on the darkening trees as they passed.

"Sam, I need your head in this." John's eyes glanced up in the mirror.

"Yes, sir." He met his father's eyes for the first time in nearly a week.

"Good." John continued down the road.

John parked the car just off of a gravel road. It started to sprinkle, it was going to be a wet, cold night. John passed a pistol to Dean who tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.

"Sam, you have a knife on you?"

He nodded.

"Silver?"

He nodded again.

"Good. Let's go, stay close." John led his boys into the woods.

John turned on a flashlight and illuminated a narrow trail. All three were in hunting mode: quiet, focused determined. For a second Sam thought about how he wouldn't be able to meet Matt, maybe it was for the best if they ended their friendship. Sam would only be leaving soon anyway, better to end without being friends at all. He clenched his jaw and focused on the woods again.