After Samantha started her senior year of high school, the school's counselor had met with her to begin the process of applying for college. Samantha's GPA was 3.98 and she had a long list of extracurricular activities that colleges looked for, she was almost assured a full ride with that and her father's low income.

For months afterward she had kept quiet, unsure how to broach the issue with her brother. She knew that Dean loved her and that he would do anything for her, but he also felt the same way about their dad. She worried about what would happen if their dad didn't like it, that Dean might have to choose between the two of them. It was the same kind of fear as when she told her father about her gender issues all over again, the fear of losing Dean and everything that mattered to her because of her need to life a different life.

Finally, after months of worrying and aborted conversations, Samantha put on her big girl panties and told Dean.

"I want to go to college, Dean, and I want you to come with me," Samantha whispered quietly as she snuggled closer to him under the warm covers of their bed. Snow was falling heavily outside the bedrooms window, the flurry of wind and snow from the storm nearly overpowering her whisper. "My counselor said my grades are excellent and that she's sure I'll get a full ride…"

"I know, baby… I've been trying to ease Dad into it, but he's not exactly easy to talk to." Dean sighed pulling her close, his large hand rubbing up and down her back under the tank top. "Was thinking that we could convince him to move us wherever you get accepted, make that our home base. Me and him could still go on hunts, we'd just keep the hunts within the bordering states and come home after each one."

"You think he'll go for it?"

Dean stayed quieted for a while and then answered. "I don't know, Sammy… we'll see when we tell him."

"If he doesn't, what will-" Samantha whispered, her throat closing up before she could finish the question.

She knew Dean loved her, but this was their dad and Dean had always been a good soldier who followed orders. Samantha wasn't sure what side he would chose, or even if he could pick a side. Her heart clenched as she thought about her family falling apart… of possibly losing Dean or their father.

She had always hated the hunting life; moving from one run down house to a rundown roach motel, then to a different place all over again. She'd gone to 26 schools since she started the first grade and had to leave behind the few friends she'd made all along the way. She was ready for a normal life, for having one place to call home… for it to be filled with things she loved. That meant something to her; for it to be a home, not just another place that they lived in.

Dean didn't talk about it often, but she knew he felt the same way. Even though he was torn by the sense of duty he felt to their father, for the hunt for the demon who killed their mother, every once in a while he'd get this wishful longing look in his eyes when he saw a happy family cross his path. Whenever she saw that look on his face Samantha always got so angry with their father for dragging them along on his unending quest for vengeance… angry with the demon that killed their mother and took the promise of a bright happy future away from them all.

Some of the happiest moments she could remember in her life were the times when it was just her and Dean by themselves. Living in some dilapidated house their father had found for them while he went off on a string of hunts for months at a time, Dean working at a local repair shop to support them while Samantha went to school and took care of the house and feeding them. Those moments weren't anything special for the average person, but for her, they had been a few bright shining months of sun and happiness in a long string of dreary years.

Settling over her, his body cradled between the spread of her thighs, Dean cupped her cheek and stared fiercely into her eyes. "If he can't accept what we're offering, then it's his loss, baby. It's you and me. Always… if he doesn't agree then we pack our shit and go. I know how much this means to you, Sammy, I'm not gonna let him ruin this. Okay?"

"Okay." She smiled up at him as she carded her fingers through his hair.

"So where'd you apply and which one do you want the most?" Dean asked as he rested his head on her breasts, a hand cupping the side of one of them, his lips absently brushing over the slowly hardening nub.

"I applied to Harvard, Dartmouth, Yale and Stanford… but I want Stanford." She grinned, stars in her eyes as she spoke. "Can you imagine it? Us in sunny California, no snow storm in sight… You in a mechanic shop tinkering under the hood of classic muscle cars, me going to school to become a lawyer who specializes in LGBT cases."

Chuckling Dean nodded his head, his lips brushing up against a nipple as he moved. "Yeah, baby, sounds perfect."

"Yeah it does, doesn't it," Samantha hmm'ed and then gasped as Dean's lips brushed up against her nipple, this time she was sure on purpose. "Okay, I'm done talking now…" she sighed as she arched her back and pressed her nipple against Dean's wandering lips.

With a smirk, Dean latched his lips around the hard nub and sucked it for all he was worth as his hands began to wander down her body…

John slowly pulled his truck into the driveway of the small cottage he'd rented for them for the last three months, a tired sigh falling from his lips as he parked. He'd been away from a few weeks; a string of hunts had followed one after the other since he left for the hunt in Tennessee three weeks back. Pulling his duffle from the cab, John checked the mail box before heading towards the house. Absently, he sifted through the mail, ignoring the junk mail and keeping the credit card offer for a later perusal, John stopped from one step to the next as his eyes landed on the last bit of mail in the pile. Looking at the letter in front of him, he froze for a moment, confusion warring with annoyance and frustration at his youngest child. Embossed across upper portion of the thick manila envelope in bright red was "Stanford University." The name and the weight of the large envelope told him all he needed to know.

His son, dammit, his daughter, he shook his head as even after four years he still had trouble remembering that his son Samuel was now Samantha. 'My Sammy' he finally lands on, had gone behind his back and applied to college when he told her no. There were so many things wrong with the picture in front of him, like the fact that Samantha disobeyed him or that she wanted to go off where she'd be alone and unprotected or that she was giving up on helping their family find the demon who killed her mother.

He was angry, no, he was pissed… she had always rebelled against him. Whenever he said to go right, she'd go left just to spite him. Samantha was stubborn and disobedient, a liability when he needed a soldier who would just listen and do what they were told. Her constant whining that she wanted a 'normal' life; that she wanted to stay at the school even though their hunt was moving on. Since she was a baby she had always bucked against his orders and he was tired of it. He was finally going to make it crystal clear that her days of youthful rebellion were at an end.

Stomping into the house, he dropped his duffle onto the kitchen table and made his way through the current hovel of they called home sweet home until he reached his kids' bedroom door. Clenching his hands into fists and blowing out a puff of hot air to try and calm himself, he opened the door and choked on the words he was about to yell.

His babies were curled up together on Dean's bed, naked as the day they were born. Samantha was laying half on top of Dean, her arm wrapped around his waist and her hand resting just below his navel. Dean had an arm around her as well; the hand attached cupping her ass possessively as he slept. The smell of sex and sweat and lube was still in the air and he gagged as he registered it in his mind.

'They're fucking!' he couldn't help but scream in his mind.

"WHAT. THE. FUCK?" He bellowed as he barged into the room, waking them from their dreams.

Dean's eyes bulged as he saw him standing over the bed, fists clenched and his nostrils flaring as the rage consumed him. "Dad... I can explain!"

"Explain what? That you're fucking your brother?" Something in the back of his mind tells him that 'brother' isn't the right term anymore, but he ignored it, his anger stomping the thought down before he could feel guilty about it. "What the hell is wrong with you two?"

Samantha was holding the sheet up against her chest, tears falling from her eyes as she looked up at John with hurt, anger and dread. John wanted to comfort her, but he wanted to shake her as well. Why the hell would she let her brother touch her like that?

He'd always known that they were closer than most siblings, he'd figured that was just the way it was for them… living their life on the road, bouncing from one place to another, nobody and nothing a constant in their lives except for each other. John had seen the way they cuddled together on the couch, or the way that even at their ages they still ended up in the same bed more often than not. His mind had gone there a time or two, a fleeting thought that maybe they were too close before he'd laugh at himself and think he was too paranoid… that there wasn't anything like that going on behind his back. Now he wished he'd listened to that voice that whispered something was wrong over the years.

"Daddy," Samantha says through a hiccupping sob, "we love each other."

"You're brothers! It's disgusting and perverted… this isn't right, I won't allow it!" Gritting his teeth he scowled down at his children. "Get dressed… right now! We're gonna talk about what is acceptable and what isn't and about this!" he barked out as he threw the Stanford acceptance letter on the bed beside them, Samantha's eyes widening as a gasp slipped from her lips, "And then we're never having this conversation again, am I clear? And so help me god, if I ever find out that you've touched each other again…"

"No, sir. I'm sorry, but we love each other and you don't get to decide how we live our lives. Not anymore." Dean said quietly as he stood up from the bed, not a lick of shame for his naked body. His son's chin was jutted out in anger, his eyes blazing as he stared John down.

"What did you just say to me, solider?"

"I said, no, sir."

"This how it's gonna be?"

He was quiet for a moment, his face unreadable and then he nodded his head. "Yes, sir."

"You feel the same way?"

Samantha wrapped the sheet around her body and crawled over the bed to stand beside her brother, their hands clasping each other's. "Yes, sir."

"Fine, get out."

"What?" Samantha gasped as her eyes grew impossibly wide.

"I said get the fuck out and don't come back. No children of mine are going to live a perverted life like this." Before he could regret the words he stomped out of their room and into his, slamming the door behind him.

Through the thin walls John could hear Samantha's sobs and Dean murmuring to her. For a few minutes that was all he could hear before the sound of drawers opening and closing filled the silence. The ping of clothes being quickly pulled off of hangers sounded like gun shots, covering up the breaths he forced in and out of his body. John leaned against his door, his eyes closed as he listened to the sounds of his children leaving him forever.

Thirty minutes after they started packing, they finished loading the Impala with their meager possessions. John watched them through his bedroom window, the light in his room off, concealing him from his children.

"It'll be alright, Sammy. I told you… it's you and me, baby, always." Dean said softly as he wrapped his arms around his sister's waist, holding her tight as her sobs echoed into the quiet night.

The bitter taste of regret formed on his tongue as he watched them comfort each other. As soon as he'd said the words, disowning them, he'd regretted it. They were his children and he loved them, even if they were together like… that… but his stubborn pride wouldn't let him take everything back now.

The memory of Missouri's words of warning said years ago floated through his mind, 'if you can't accept Samantha Winchester and all she entails you'll lose them both forever.' He wondered if she saw this in her vision. He wondered how much she was cursing his stubborn pride at that very second and he was shamed by even the thought of it.

"Come on, Sammy, it's a long drive to California."

Grabbing the last of their bags from the front steps, Dean took Samantha's hand, threading their fingers together without thought in an intimacy that spoke volumes, Dean lead them to the Impala. He open Samantha's door for her whispering something so quietly that John couldn't make out. Samantha smiled through her tears and leaned up to kiss him, whispering back, and then got in the car.

Dean rounded the car, his eyes landing on John's window with a sad, but determined look. Slamming the driver's side door closed, the Impala's engine purred to life a second later and then John watched as the taillights faded into the night, taking his children with them.

God, what had he done?

The purring rumble of the Impala's engine filled the silence for a while, Samantha tucked tightly into Dean's side as they drove down the highway. Her tears had stopped a while back, the hiccups a few minutes later, her face slowly taking on a resolved look that made Dean equal parts sad and happy. He hated that their father had done this, made them choose, but if Dean had to choose it would always be Sammy… every time, no question.

She was his world, everything he loved about it shown through her eyes and he wouldn't give her up for anything, not even their father.

"it'll be alright, baby, you'll see. We'll get a nice place in California, you'll go to Stanford and become a lawyer, I'll find a garage to work at and we'll be happy. Just wait and see." Dean murmured quietly against Samantha's temple, pulling her in close to him.

His baby girl, looked up at him, watery smile shining on her face and she nodded. "I know, I just wish he could be there with us, is all."

Kissing her temple, Dean whispered, "Maybe one day, baby, maybe one day."

Dean pushed a tape into the cassette player, the sound of their childhood starting up a second later. Eyes back on the road, Dean drove them towards their future holding his world close in his arms, humming quietly along with Kansas' Carry on my Wayward Son.

The end.

Author's Note: This series is a work of love for me as I have absolutely fallen in love with Samantha and Dean's story, so you'll be sure to have more to read in the very near future. I've already written two other ficlets in this verse and I plan to write more about Samantha and Dean's time at Stanford and their life together. Let me know what you think, feedback is love people, so get to it! *g*