Sam Winchester hated Nebraska. It was cold and icy and the kids were mean. Even for pre-teens they were mean. They teased him because he was the new kid and his pants cut off at his ankles. They teased him because his shirts were handed down from his brother and they didn't quite fit right. They teased him because he made A's on all of his assignments, Dean said it was because they jealous, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt. So, Sam Winchester hated Nebraska, the people were just as cold as its weather.
"Come on Sammy, pick up the pace or we will never make it home." Dean teased slugging his younger brother in the shoulder and making him stagger slightly. A cocky grin slid up the sides of his mouth as he looped an arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him close in, "What's on your mind Sammy?"
"It's Sam." Sam spat back, shoving off from his brother's chest and moving to the other side of the sidewalk, kicking up a thin layer of snow as he went. Dean nodded, his grin slipping slightly, before he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and stared forward. He walked slower than he had to so his brother could keep up, but he was sure Sam never noticed that.
"So what's on your mind, Sam?" Adding emphasis on the last word Dean swiveled his head back towards his brother and shook some snowflakes out of his hair.
"I hate Nebraska." He replied bitterly, keeping his head down. His bangs flopped in front of his eyes and a sour frown painted his lips causing him to look like a mistreated pup, but Dean decided it was best not to point that out.
"Any particular reason?" Sam stopped for a moment, mulling the question over in his brain. Of course there was a reason, there were lots of reasons, but Dean wouldn't understand. He would just pity him and try to fix it by threatening to beat someone up, and that wasn't what Sam wanted. So after a moment he shook out his bangs and continued walking. He could see Dean giving him an assessing look in his peripherals, could see the question in his eyes, but he didn't ask, Sam was grateful for that. "Well I think Nebraska is fine."
"No you think Julia Warren is fine." Sam quipped back, letting loose a toothy grin. Dean chuckled beside him and nodded his agreement.
"What else would make this place worthwhile Sammy?" Dean questioned playfully as they neared the motel room and pulled the keys from his jean pocket.
"It's Sam," Almost got lost in the sound of the key unlocking the door, almost. Sam glanced around the motel room as he shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes. The pea green wallpaper was peeling along the ceiling and the white trim was more of an aged manila. The small kitchen was clean enough but 2 of the 4 cabinets were stuck and the fridge creaked like the door may fall off its hinges every time you opened it. The carpet was grayed with use and was so stiff under his feet that he refused to go barefoot. Home Sweet Home. Sam grimaced at the thought before throwing himself on the bed furthest from the door and pulling his backpack up beside him. Sam sifted through his bag looking for his homework as he listened to Dean rummage around the kitchen.
"Dean grab me something too!" Sam called, not taking his eyes from the inside of his bag as he snatched out his math triumphantly.
"PB on bread okay?" Dean's voice filtered through the thin half wall that hid his brother from view.
"Yeah that's good." Sam acknowledged absently before pulling a pencil out and settling back with his math book splayed open on the appropriate page. He was on the third problem when Dean waltzed in with a half sandwich on a paper plate and slid the snack across the bedspread. "Where's yours?"
"Decided I wasn't hungry." Dean muttered, falling backwards onto the other bed. After all he couldn't tell Sam he was worried about how much food was left. They had enough macaroni and hot dogs for dinner tonight and tomorrow if he stretched it, and two pieces of bread with barely enough peanut butter to fill two spoonfuls. Forgoing an afterschool snack was a small price to pay for Sam's peace of mind. But Sam was harder to fool these days and he was giving him that calculating 'you're not telling me something' look.
"When is Dad getting back?" Sam's voice conveyed nothing but the suspicious look remained.
"By the weekend."
"It's Monday."
"I know. Why you asking Samantha, don't enjoy my company?" Dean pouted playfully, sticking out his bottom lip and batting his eyelashes.
"Shut up!" Sam yelped indignantly, tossing a throw pillow at Dean's face and slumping back to resume his homework. Dean caught the pillow out of the air and pushed up off the bed. He dug his fingers through his pockets before pulling out his cellphone and clicking down to 'Dad'.
"I've got to make a call." He didn't wait for a reply before slipping out of the motel room and placing the phone beside his ear.
Ring ring ring….
Dean pulled his jacket tighter, trying to block the strongest of the winds and keep the chill at bay.
Ring ring ring….
"This is John." The voice was gruff and weary. It didn't sound like a man pleased to be disturbed and Dean almost wished he hadn't called, but then he thought about the empty food cabinets and his hungry stomach, and didn't feel so bad anymore.
"Hey, Dad. I was just wondering when you think you'll be back?" His voice always seemed younger when he was talking to his father. It quivered slightly, always unsure.
"I should be back tomorrow." Dean couldn't help the breath of relief that passed over his lips at the news.
"So did you get it?"
"Get what?"
"Whatever it was you were hunting."
"Yeah I got it Dean." The prolonged silence on the other end of the phone caused Dean's brows to knit together, but he didn't ask. There was a long suffering sigh before his father's ruff voice resumed, "I'll see you tomorrow Dean."
"Yeah…See you then sir." He had barely gotten the words out when a soft click signified the end of the conversation. He stared at the screen for a moment before shoving the phone back in his jeans pocket and swung back into the room, closing the door behind him to cut off the cold wind. "Dad will be back tomorrow."
"Okay." Sam muttered, not glancing up from his math book.
"I'm going to make dinner."
"Okay." Again he didn't glance up. Dean shucked his jacket and headed for the kitchen, Sam was in one of his moods, this was going to be a long night.
supernaturalloverja
"Come on Dean it's time to go." Sam's voice filtered into his sleep riddled brain. Dean grunted slightly, before turning further into his pillow and pressing the side of his face into it. "Dean!"
A cold hand prodded his face and pulled at the comforter, letting cool air under the covers and sending goose flesh over Dean's arms. Dean grumbled trying to yank the blankets back but Sam wouldn't release them and Dean was too far under sleep's influence to put up much of a fight. "What time is it?"
"It's 8 o'clock! Come on Dean, school starts at 8:30!" As Dean slowly waded out of sleep's warm pull his brain finally flickered on. 8 o'clock, which meant his school had stared a half hour ago. Crap. Dean rolled onto his side and sat up, cracking the stiff muscles of his neck before standing up and grabbing a pair of jeans from the top of his duffel.
"Alright Sam, go start the car." He mumbled, tossing his keys in to Sam's chest. While Sam left the room and went to warm up the Impala Dean slipped his boots onto his socked feet and shrugged on his leather jacket. They usually just walked, but he wasn't sure how long that would take in this weather, and he didn't want to risk Sam being late. He allowed himself a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes before leaving the slight warmth of the motel and heading into the parking lot. Sam was already snuggled down in the passenger seat with the heater blasting in his face by the time Dean had taken his seat in the driver's side.
"I am guessing you are not going to school." Sam assessed without looking Dean's way. It wasn't a question, so Dean decided not to answer. They sat in silence for a few minutes. The air heavy and thick inside the warm car as the one brother struggled for conversation and one silently begged they could keep silent.
"So Sammy, I want to know what's bothering you?" Dean questioned without removing his eyes from the rode. Sam looked taken back for a moment, his mouth gaping like a fish at the sudden question before he could process it. So much for the no talking.
"Do we have to talk about this now?" Sam stuttered, his over stressed brain just wanting to hibernate until they rolled in front of the prison they called a school.
"Well you wouldn't talk about it yesterday! When is a good time? I just want to know what's going on with you." His voice was on the edge of begging but Dean held it slightly back, refusing to seem that weak.
"I said not now Dean."
"Come on Sammy, tell your big brother about it." Dean teased in a sing song voice, trying to lighten the thick atmosphere of the car.
"Nothing Dean! Nothing that you would understand!" Sam snapped, the last weeks of bullying memories all closing in around him. The car seemed smaller all of sudden, and Dean was to close, asking too many questions he didn't want to think about.
"What do you mean I wouldn't understand?" He was almost hurt at the statement. Since when had he not understood his little brother? Sammy was his business to understand, that was his job, of course he understood. If Sam would just tell him about it.
"You don't get it Dean. You don't understand what it's like. To be the outsider, to be the nerd, to be bullied in every freaking state."
"Who is bullying you?"
"What?"
"I said who is bullying you?"
"You really just don't get it! You can fix this Dean, if you beat up one kid another will come along sooner or later."
"I do get it Sam. I get that you need to stand up for yourself…."
"That's really your answer? Not everything can be fixed with your fists Dean."
"That's not what I …."
"You can't make problems disappear by beating them up! That's the issue with you Dean, you never use your head! You either go in fists swinging or just follow blindly after Dad."
"Now Sam that's not fair…."
"No, what's not fair is that I always get the short end of the stick! I am the one that suffers every time we move because I don't make friends easily like you Dean. I am the one who has to be excluded from this family because you and Dad are always a united from against me! I hate it Dean! I hate moving! I hate feeling alone in my own family! And you don't do anything to stop it so I hate you!"
The look on Dean's face will be forever stained into Sam's brain. The look of heartbreak. The look of abandonment. The look of betrayal. A look that made Sam regret being born because he had caused it. It was a look that spoke volumes of how much Dean loved him and how he had thrown it back in his face. It was the look Dean had on his face when they hit the black ice.