Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural and I am not making any profits off of this story. It all belongs to the CW and Eric Kripke so, please don't sue and please don't be offended by the language or situations the characters find themselves in.
Chapter 9
Dean Winchester tapped his fingers against the steering wheel of the Impala, keeping in tune with the beat of the Metallica song playing at low volume on the radio as he waited for a certain younger sibling to walk out the doors of the school across the street amidst a flood of other kids once the bell rang.
It'd been three weeks since the nearly fatal hunt for the Black Dog, three weeks since he had witnessed with his own eyes how Sam had single handedly taken out a ferocious being that he and Dad combined had not been able to stop.
Dean felt an involuntary chill run up his spine as he remembered what he and his father had beheld that night.
During these last few days, Sam seemed normal enough if maybe a little quiet and reserved but, both Dean and John wrote it off as just Sam's way of coping with what had nearly happened to them all and what had actually happened.
And it couldn't have been too bad, Sam hadn't had a single nightmare since the ordeal so he must have been doing okay.
Sam would snap out of it and be back to his old bright, geeky, stubborn, and happy little self in no time.
However, Dean and John Winchester were oblivious to a certain detail nobody actually told them to their faces.
Nobody had as of yet informed the older Winchesters that they were by far most likely two of the biggest idiots on the face of the Earth.
Really.
The reality was that their youngest was the farthest thing from alright. Even after a whole month.
From where he sat it his last class of the day, Sam Winchester felt numb and dead inside.
What Dean and John thought was sullenness was muted despair in actuality.
The heart that had shattered within his chest the same night he had passed his test against the Black Dog was still not whole.
Yes, it had pulled together most of it's many broken pieces and had put itself back together as best as it could. Despite it's valiant efforts, the best it could comprise from the many pieces was a jagged edged mass within his chest that felt nothing at all like a human heart should.
Sam scribbled down his homework for this class just as the school bell rang loud and shrill, signaling the end of the school day.
While his fellow classmates all got up from their seats and murmured with enthusiasm among themselves, Sam gathered up his stuff and slowly stood from his desk. He didn't look at anyone else as he got his new winter coat on, he didn't say anything to any of the other kids as he walked with them as they flowed out of the classroom and out into the hall to join an even bigger accumulation of kids coming out of the other classrooms.
Sam walked to the front exit without stopping once.
These last three weeks had been Hell on Earth for him.
When he'd first returned to school after the weekend, he had been shunned immediately by his friends at the drama club for bailing on them at the last minute before the Winter show.
He had learned from Benny Holden in his English class that the show had been a down right disaster because the leading role he had had to give up had gone to his replacement Andy Kidman, who had had no time to prepare and had naturally sucked.
On top of that, one of the stage lights had blown out, sending everyone on stage into a panic.
The Winter show had ended in an uncoordinated and deeply embarrassing mess.
A few days later, the mean kids who had taken up picking on him had swooped down and had had a field day rubbing his let down in his face.
And they had carried on tormenting him for this whole time.
As he walked out into the crisp wintry air, Sam felt the jagged object in his chest that was once his heart turned into a block of black ice as he caught sight of the familiar sleek black car waiting across the street.
Sam didn't want a ride home with Dean, he would rather have walked in the cold than sit beside the older brother who had called him a selfish little freak and not even apologized for it after wards.
Dean had actually forgotten the words he had spoken to his baby brother before everything went to Hell that night.
Guess his little brother's heart hadn't been important enough to Dean for him to remember the jagged crack he had inflicted on it that night with his words and his annoyance, making it all the more easy for it to shatter the way it had done later that night while he had laid oblivious in sleep, holding said little brother in his arms.
For Sam, his anger to wards both his brother and his father had surpassed red hot rage and was now a cold, all consuming fury.
But even with all that inside him, he couldn't bring himself to hate them. The love for these two unworthy fools somehow remained intact, but was buried away deep inside behind thick walls of hurt and ice.
They were still everything to him as apparently he was not much to them, his father especially.
As he reached the Impala, Sam felt deep resentment raise it's ugly head inside him, it's gaze aimed at his seventeen year old brother with spiky hair sitting behind the wheel of the car.
Sam climbed into the car silently and stayed pressed against the car door, as far from his father's perfect first son, his good little soldier.
The son his father wanted.
The son who didn't have to change anything about himself to get his father's approval.
The son who wasn't a " whiny little brat who screws up left and right " like his brother was according to their father.
" Hey Sammy." Said Dean with a smile, perking up at his sibling's presence.
" Hey Dean." Said Sam, not returning Dean's smile, not even sparing his brother the slightest glance.
Not picking up on the fact that his brother didn't want a conversation of any kind with him, Dean spoke again.
" How was school Sammy?" He asked.
He was met with silence for a while before Sam answered.
" Fine. Now can we go home?" Sam relied curtly, annoyance clear in his tone as he stared out the window.
Mildly taken aback by the slight hostility, Dean nodded and turned up the volume on the radio and then carefully pulled away from the sideway.
The drive home was made with no more words spoken between the brothers and once they pulled up in front of the house, Sam all but bolted from the car and up the stairs into the house before Dean could try and talk to him again.
Dean watched his brother disappear into the house and found himself wanting Sam to snap out of this funk and go back to be his full, normal self.
With a small sigh, Dean turned off the Impala's ignition and followed in Sam's wake into the house.
Later that night, the three Winchesters sat at the table in the kitchen, having dinner that was comprised of Chinese take out and a bucket of KFC chicken.
John had left his temporary job a few days after the Black Dog and had stayed home to take it easy and let his wounds heal. He'd managed to dodge both infection and rabies. This was most likely thanks to Sam's quick patch up job.
But he hadn't been able to tell his boy because Sam avoided him every chance he got, only speaking to him when it was unavoidable.
John hoped that Sam would soon be getting out of the funk he was under cause he really wanted the bright, wonderfully vibrant, intelligent yet deeply stubborn youngest son he knew and loved to return.
John discreetly looked up from his own plate to eye his sons.
Dean sat adjacent to him, fully engrossed in devouring his meal. John smiled inwardly, his oldest boy was a bottomless pit when it came to food.
However, where John smiled internally at his oldest's ravenous enthusiasm as he shoveled his dinner into his mouth, but the smile turned into a frown when his eyes fell on his youngest.
Sam sat across from him, unlike his brother the thirteen year old was picking at his dinner with his fork and nibbling at his food half heartedly and with his eyes downcast.
John gave an inaudible sigh before he cleared his throat to get his sons's attention. Dean looked up instantly but Sam's eyes remained gazing down at his dinner plate.
John ignored his youngest son's snub and spoke.
" Listen up boys, I found another job up in Minnesota so we're heading out at the end of the week."
" Oh boy, Sammy's probably gonna blow his top and then he and dad are gonna be at each other's throats." Thought Dean as he and his father's eyes instantly zeroed in on their youngest one.
John and Dean were both expecting vehement protest from their youngest, an all out Battle Royale.
So it was a bit of a shock when all they received was dead silence.
Sam felt his father and his brother's expectant gazes on him and finally looked up from his plate.
He stared back at them blankly and after a beat, he spoke.
" What?" Was asked flatly.
" Dad just said that we're moving Sammy, aren't you gonna start yelling and screaming at Dad?" Asked Dean, utterly perplexed as he stared at Sam.
" No." Was all Sam said with a small shake of his head.
Dean huffed a disbelieving laugh before he spoke.
" Dude, are you alright? You sure you're not comin' down with something are you?" He asked as he got up and walked over to Sam, reaching out to feel his little brother's forehead.
But, just as Dean's hand was about to make contact with skin...
Sam violently flinched away from him and sent him a glare filled with dark venom that seemed to say " Don't you dare touch me Dean."
" Touchy." Said Dean as he let his hand fall away and returned to his seat.
He actually felt a little hurt by his brother's rejection.
But in true Dean Winchester fashion, he didn't let it show and shrugged it off as Sam just being bitchy and moody.
Unbeknounced to Dean, after the night he had climbed into Sam's bed and held him, his little brother didn't want any kind of physical contact with him or their father.
" I'm fine." Answered Sam finally.
" What's goin' on with you, I thought you liked it here, a lot?" Asked John.
" Since when does it matter to you whether I like it somewhere and want to stay or not?" Thought Sam bitterly before he answered his father.
" We came here to hunt down that Black Dog. Black Dog's dead. Now we're moving on. Besides, I don't like it here anymore." Said Sam quietly.
" Why? What do you mean you don't like it here anymore?" Asked John as both he and Dean stared at Sam." I just don't like it here, especially after what happened in the woods..." Sam trailed off, not wanting to say anything further cause then an entire landslide of words would be pouring out of his mouth.
If he'd said all that was really on his mind, his family would most likely be furious and annoyed at him. They wouldn't have cared about his pain. His father would've just compared him to Dean and once again basically told him that he wasn't good enough. Dean would've probably told him how selfish he was and blame him for once again being caught in the middle of an argument.
Well there wasn't gonna be an argument.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
Sam would see to that.
Besides, it wasn't like his opinion would be taken into consideration. In addition, he really didn't want to speak to his father or his brother not now and not in the near future.
" Alright, okay." Said John with a lingering look at his youngest before he turned back to his plate.
Dean too stared at his brother for a moment before he turned back to his own plate, though not with as much enthusiasm as earlier.
The two older Winchester were both feeling really confused by their youngest one's behavior.
Dean and John had both been expecting an explosive arguments with yelling and screaming and instead, there hadn't even been a single raised voice.
Everything was just quiet.
And it was by far the strangest thing Dean or John ever encountered, even in the crazy world their family lived in.
One week later...
Dean and Sam followed John out of the house for the final time, with everything they owned packed up in the large duffel bags they were carrying with them.
They followed their father to the Impala and loaded their bags and gear into the trunk.
" Do you boys have all your stuff?" Asked John.
" Yes sir." Chimed Dean and Sam, the older with excitement and the youngest with no emotion at all.
" Good, then let's hit the road." Said John, eager to get out of town and to the job.
The three Winchesters climbed into the Impala with John in the driver's seat, Dean riding shotgun, and Sam silent in the back seat.
The Impala growled to life with a turn of the key.
Without looking back, the Winchesters drove out of town with Minnesota on the horizon.
