It has been miserable in the month and a half since my …introduction to Blue Earth's boys in blue and I think Amish kids on the farm have more freedom. I run three miles every morning, train after breakfast until lunch then after lunch Dean and I spar for a couple hours. After sparring I translate ancient Latin texts until dinner following dinner I research whatever hunt dad has going until he feels my days work is sufficient and then he sends me to bed. Its bullshit if you ask me, but a good solider obeys his CO.
One afternoon while pouring over some pointless drivel, I was trying to work up the courage to bring up school to dad. The window to tell him is closing fast, he's just been so pissy lately. Although thus far today he'd been in a fairly good mood, only yelling when Dean and I had been dicking around rather than practicing like we were supposed to be.
"Hey dad?" I begin my voice breaking. He responds with a simple grunt not even looking up from the book in front of him. "Um … well," dad is still focused on whatever he's reading.
"Damn it Sam just sip it out already, I'm in the middle of something." He growls, his patience shot.
I can feel my shoulders tense at his tone, the one that always grates my nerves. "Can you maybe give me your full attention?" I huff. He scribbles something in his journal and finally looks up at me expectantly.
"What?" he barks, instantly taking all of that bluster and bravado that I had moments before down a couple notches, I shift my weight in my seat nervously.
"I …well… a couple of months back I started filling out some applications." I take a deep breath and plow on. "For college and I know we've talked about this but I got in…" I can help but smile as I begin to talk faster. "To Stanford dad, I got a full ride… it won't cost you a penny and I can still come home and hunt on weekends-"
"And when were you planning to tell me about this?" his face not the one of a beaming proud father but of one super pissed off drill Sargent.
There was that tone again, I scoffed before saying, "Well that's what I'm trying to do now."
"I guess I should be glad you didn't wait till you were walking out the door-"
"Dad it's not like that-" I start to explain.
"So you think you can just, waltz in and out of hunts and not have fallout, that's how people get hurt going into these things halfcocked, you'll wind up getting yourself killed or worse your brother."
I shake my head totally taken aback at how far off base this situation had gotten. "It'll just take some time to adjust-"
"NO! No it won't. You need to make a choice you go to school or you stay and hunt there is no doing both."
"But dad I can do both. You're supposed to be happy for me …proud even."
Dad leveled me with a hard glare, "You think I'd be proud that you decided to abandon you're family for some stupid childish notion of normalcy. This is our normal and I'll tell you, if you walk out that door don't you dare bother coming back." His harsh words sent a chill down my spine.
"What?" I squeak out.
"You heard me." He replies coldly, his eyes took that look they get around the anniversary of moms death. "If this its miserable for you here then leave."
I shake my head, dad was looking at like he didn't even know me, "Dad please-"
"No you did all this by yourself so clearly you don't need us anymore, just go." He picked up my duffle which had the majority of clothes in it from doing laundry earlier and threw it at me. "Leave Sam."
"You know what fuck you." I explode. "For the first time in my life I'm doing something for me, this is for me, not you not Dean. I worked so hard for this and I told you because I thought you be proud of me. Not challenge me with some bullshit ultimatum. What kind of parenting is that, I can bet mom would have let me go-" and before I can say anything else I'm against the wall my feet dangling a few inches from the floor dad fist gripping the front of my shirt.
"How dare you use your mother as leverage? You've got a lot to learn little boy-"
"Dad what the hell is going on?" asks Dean standing in the door way with Pastor Jim. In a few strides Dean has crossed to where dad and I are. "Let him go dad." Dean gently touches dads arm and he lets me go. I kneel down and pick up my duffle.
"Bye Dean." I mumble turning to leave.
"Wait bye what… Sam where are-" dean is at a loss for words confused about what was going down.
"Tell him Sam… tell him what you told me. That you're leaving, tell him." Dean has the most hurt look on his face.
"Sam?" he asks "What's he talking about Sammy?"
"Dean I'm sorry-" I couldn't look at him I feel like I'm suffocating, I needed to get out of there.
"Yeah sorry for abandoning everything we stand for. I never wanna see your face again you make me sick. Leave!" I didn't need to be told twice.
As I sit on a Greyhound headed to Cali with a broken heart and a few dollars to my name and Dad's words rolling around in my head. Sometimes it's easier to ask forgiveness than to ask for promising.
The end