AN: Okay so this was WAY easier to write than I ever imaged writing this chapter would be. I hope I did okay.
Sam stood in the middle of the room he shared with Dean in Ohio in a maroon graduation gown. He looked stupid, but it was hard to look cool in one of those things. Dean had bought a handful of disposal cameras for the day and clicking away as Sam rolled his eyes.
"Really?" Sam sighed. "You can stop now."
"Big day, kiddo," Dean replied, a huge grin plastered to his face. "Put the hat thing on, I need pictures of you wearin' that too."
Sam picked it up and put it in its place, he pushed his hair behind his ears and gave Dean the finger as he played photographer, trying to get every possible angle of Sam in his graduation robes.
"You're a freak," Sam smile. "There will be grandmas at this thing who'll take fewer pictures that you have."
"I only got one kid brother, and he only graduates high school once. And since you're going off the college in the fall, I gotta have something to remember you by."
"It's not like you'll never see me again," Sam shook his head.
"Yeah," Dean shrugged. "But it might be a while."
"You gonna put 'em in a frame with little hearts and shit?" Sam chuckled. "Pine over me while I'm at school, tell people of your long lost love?"
"Shut up," Dean punched Sam hard in the arm. "I'm just proud of ya. This is a big deal, high school graduation."
"You don't gotta make it a telenovela, Dean," Sam softly punched Dean in the shoulder.
"Right," Dean nodded.
He was just staring at Sam, trying to take it all in. His little brother, all grown up. He was taller than Dean now, only a fraction of an inch, not enough that if someone saw them on the street they would be able to tell, but enough for Sam to make short jokes at his brother's expense all the time. He couldn't help but see Sam at three dressed in one of Dean's shirts that was way too big for him because he missed him while Dean was at school all day. He was still the little boy on a motel bed learning to add with his fingers while Dean did his math homework. Still the little boy that wanted Dean to read him bed time stories and pressed his cold feet into Dean's calf when they had to share a bed. He'd always be the little kid that made Dean hide under the covers with him during a thunderstorm because he was too scared. This man in the horrible polyester robe wasn't his little brother, he couldn't be.
"Let's get going," Dean said, pressing a hand into Sam's shoulder and turning him out the door. "Don't want you to be late for the big day."
Dean made John take a couple pictures of the two of them together in front of the car before the drove over the high school. Sam went inside to get ready to line up while Dean and John found their way onto the soccer field.
"Sam said he was up front, right?" John sighed, fanning himself with the program.
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "He's in the front row with the honor society kids."
"Good," John replied. "So we'll get out early."
"I don't think that's how it works," Dean said softly, flipping through his program. "I think they gotta stay on the stage until everyone graduates."
"There are five hundred kids in this thing," John let out a long sigh. "We're gonna be here forever."
"It's important to Sammy," Dean answered. "It's a big deal."
John rolled his eyes and slid down in the chair. Dean knew it wasn't because John didn't want to be there, that he wasn't happy to see Sam graduate high school, it was hot and uncomfortable in the open soccer field. Dean knew their Dad would regret not going if wasn't there. Dean read through the program, the list of graduates. He noticed that next to a majority of the names was the college or branch of military that they'd be moving on to after they got their diploma. Trying not to look panicked; Dean ran his finger down the list to the "W's." Walden, Wagner, Waters, Weatherby, Wesley, Winchester. Right there in black and white across from his brother's name in bold was Stanford University. Dean hoped that John wouldn't stop using the program as a fan and feel the need to read the thing. He could only imagine the shit storm that would erupt at the restaurant they were going to afterward to celebrate.
When the show got moving, it wasn't as bad as Dean figured it would be. The keynote speech was long and stupid, some author for the area that Dean had never heard of going on and on about how the high school experience is the foundation of the rest of their lives. Dean rolled his eyes so many times listening to her he was actually surprised that they didn't get stuck. But the other speeches were nice, cliché maybe, but nice: lifelong friendships and how hard it would be to move away. The girl giving the valedictorian speech was kind of hot, so it was more enjoyable than the rest of it.
The actual handing out of the diplomas took about a million years, especially since Sam was the ninth person to get his and they had to wait for the other 542 students to get theirs afterward, but Dean thought he got some excellent photos of Sam accepting his diploma, big smile on his face as he shook the principal's hand. Dean just hopped that they all turned out alright.
Then went to the Olive Garden, per Sam's request to eat something besides pizza or burgers for dinner; John went off to the restroom shortly after they were seated, so Dean pulled the program out of his pocket and pointed to Sam's name.
"What is this about?" Dean whispered. "Dad could have seen it."
"Yeah," Sam shrugged. "'Bout time he knew."
"Do you actually want to go?" Dean asked. "Cuz telling him through the program at your graduation is probably the worst way to do it."
"But Dad didn't even bother to look," Sam replied. "So it doesn't matter."
"It does matter, Sammy," Dean said as the waitress dropped off their drinks and bread sticks. "Cuz you know exactly how he's gonna react. He's gonna think you're betraying the family and freak. He's gonna kill you Sam."
Sam just shrugged and took a sip of soda and grabbing a bread stick. "I really don't care. He can yell at me all he wants, I'm going. It's not like he's actual hit either of us. He threatens it a lot but he'd never really do it."
"He hit my head off the back of his truck when you took off in Arizona," Dean said seriously.
Sam rolled his eyes. "No he didn't. He doesn't scare me, Dean, I'm a big boy and I can handle myself."
John rejoined the table moments later none the wiser about the conversation between his sons. "Boys ready to order? I'm freakin' starving. No offence Sammy, but that was the longest three hours of my life."
"Shoulda known what you were in for," Sam said, voice muffled by bread stick. "You graduated high school back in the day."
"But I skipped graduation for boot camp," John replied. "Didn't have to cross the stage to get the piece of paper. Too much pomp and circumstance for me."
"Yeah, well," Sam said. "I wanted to."
"I know kiddo," John smiled. "Just wish your mom coulda been there. Probably would have rivaled Dean with all the picture takin'. She'd be real proud of you Sammy, real proud."
Sam looked down at the table until the waitress came over to take their order.
When dinner arrived, John and Dean decided it would be a good time to start swapping embarrassing stories about new graduate, laughing and smiling like a normal family for the first time in… well… neither boy could really remember the last time they felt completely normal.
"Remember when Sam tried to ride Bobby's dog like a horse?" Dean laughed. "First time we ever were there I think. You had to be, like, two, three at the most. You just climbed right up on it and waited for the dog to gallop away. Thought Bobby was gonna skin ya. Frickin' hilarious. Miracle Bobby ever let us back in his house again."
"I remember bringin' Sam home," John said. There was this faraway look in their father's eyes as he spoke. "How excited you were, Dean, to get a little brother. And then how disappointed you were when he was a baby and not a little person like you. Wanted to take him outside and play when he was a few days old. Kept askin' when he was gonna get big so you could play cars together. Dean was so mad that you just kinda laid there and didn't do much. But then after… after… when we started movin' around, you weren't even a year old, but your brother as much as he didn't like you… thought you were just this annoying thing that cried all the time and didn't do much… he took care of you. He did everything I couldn't do. Five years old."
"I think we did a good job," Dean interrupted before things got uncomfortable. "Got ourselves an honor student worthy of those stupid bumper stickers."
"You put a bumper sticker on that car it will be the last thing you ever do," John said with the most serious look on his face Dean had ever seen.
"Yes, sir," Dean nodded. "I was just kidding."
"Good."
All in all, though, they had the same night that Dean believed every other student that graduated with Sammy was having. A nice simple family dinner, but he knew it wouldn't be too long before everything hit the fan. Dean just hoped he didn't get covered with all of Sam's shit like he usually did. He loved that kid, but he knew what was coming and as much as he wanted to, Dean knew he'd never be able to protect Sam from it all.
Sam and John danced around each other all summer. Sam did exactly what John said with little complaint, held the flair gun and fired on command on a Wendgio in Northern Michigan. He sat in the library doing research on Roman Gods until the library closed every night for a week until he they figured out what on earth was striking people dead in New Mexico, even though it was the most beautiful week weather wise Sam had ever seen. He and Dean went off to Seattle to take down a poltergeist in an abandoned house by themselves; all leading up to a warm early August night in New Jersey in a white two story they were squatting in while chasing a lead on what killed Mary.
"Sammy!" John's voice seemed to make the whole house vibrate when he was mad. "Get your ass down here."
Sam and Dean were one the floor of their room between their sleeping bags playing poker. Both jumped at the sound of their father's voice and flew down the narrow staircase to come face to face with a red faced John holding an envelope.
"Wanna explain this?" John shook the paper at Sam.
"It's an envelope," Sam answered shrugging. "We got mail? I don't know what you want."
"It's forwarded from Bobby," John said, that dangerous smile Dean had grown used to hiding from growing across his face. "Got your name on it, but I figured, 'What kinda mail could Sammy be getting?' So I opened it, and it's your room assignment for the upcoming semester."
"You opened my mail?" Sam whined, clearly not understanding the seriousness of what was happening.
"Sammy," Dean whispered. "Don't make this any worse, okay?"
"You knew about this?" John yelled, staring Dean in the eye. "You knew and didn't tell me?"
"Because it's none of your business," Sam replied. "If you respected personal space and privacy and not gone through my mail, you wouldn't know about it."
"You were just gonna take off in the middle of the night again?" John asked, still thrusting the paper at Sam. "Just gonna disappear without a trace and never look back?"
"No," Sam sighed. "I was gonna wait to tell you until you couldn't tell me no. Because that's what this is. This is you telling me that I can't go to college. That I have to stay shackled to you like a fucking prisoner in a life I hate instead of going to school."
"You finished school," John said seriously.
"No, Dad," Sam shook his head. "I didn't. I just finished high school. I want to go to college, get a degree and do something besides hunting."
"You want to abandon your family," John accused.
"I want to improve my life," Sam countered.
"Stop," Dean interjected. "Can we sit down and talk like adults? Not just scream until everyone hates each other. Please?"
Dean knew all the horrible things that John could say when he was angry. He'd been on the receiving end of it too many times to count. He'd do anything to keep Sam, that little brother he was supposed to protect from life, from feeling the wrath of John.
"You wanna talk this out?" John asked.
"Nothing to talk out," Sam replied. "I'm leaving in two weeks. I'm going to school in California. I'll meet you guys at Bobby's for Christmas, ride with you during summer break, but I'm going to school."
"How you paying for this shit?" John demanded. "You can't scam yourself Stanford tuition, not matter how hard you push those puppy dog eyes."
"I gotta full ride," Sam said calmly, like the other half of the conversation wasn't being screamed. "You don't gotta pay a dime. You'll never get a bill. I worked hard and it paid off. Took what you taught me, us, and applied it to school and I got a full ride to one of the best schools in the country."
"You're full of it, Sam," John shook his head. "That's shit that only happens in movies. Don't happen in real life."
"Well it happened to me, Dad," Sam answered. "I did it, all on my own while you dragged me from school to school my whole life. I got the grades to get into that school. I got a full ride. I worked my ass off every day of my life, studying, working, doing everything I could so I could get outta here. So I can do something worthwhile. And that's the work ethic you instilled in me."
"I didn't teach you to turn your back and walk out on your family," John yelled. "I taught you there was nothing more important."
"I'm not walking out," Sam defended. "I'm going to college."
"How the hell are we supposed to protect you when you're on the other side of the God damned country?"
"I'm eighteen," Sam said. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you or Dean up my ass 24/7 making sure I get a fucking paper cut. I've been taking care of myself for a long time. You've had no problem leaving me in a motel for weeks at a time with no adult supervision. College is a whole hell of a lot safer than half the flea bag pay by the hours we've lived in over the years."
"Don't give me that kind of shit, Sammy," John said, taking a step forward. "I did the best I could by you boys. You don't know what it was like after your mom… after what happened to your mom. You don't know what I went through."
"No, Dad," Sam replied. "I don't know what it's like to lose someone like that, and I honestly hope I never do. But to keep this up for eighteen years? You're chasing a ghost, and you're not doing us any favors."
"I did my best," John repeated.
"No Dad," Sam shook his head. "I don't think you did. There's so much you could have done better. You could have gotten a house somewhere, you could have settled down, you could have left us at Bobby's or Pastor Jim's and went out on hunts instead of dragging up around the country all the time. There's so much you could have done better. You taught that lies were bad, that they ate away at you. Nothings worse than lies you tell yourself."
"Shut your fucking mouth, Sammy," John said invading Sam's personal space. "You don't gotta clue what I did for you boys, what I sacrificed to protect you both."
"Okay," Sam nodded. "But let me have a chance to learn from your mistakes and do better."
Dean could tell it was taking everything in his little brother to keep him from snapping. He could see the vein on his neck pulsing the same way their father's did when he was trying to keep his head with a witness or law enforcement that had no clue what they were really looking at.
"Please," Dean said weakly. "Please let's just not fight. Let's act like adults and be civil. Hear Sam out, Dad. Just listen to him."
"He's betraying us," John shook his head. "He's turning his back on his family and walking out on us."
"No," Sam replied. "I'm not. I'm gonna go to law school one day. I'm gonna be a lawyer and one day you or Dean is gonna need one. And I know neither of you got money for that kinda thing, so I'll be there, to protect you. I'll be there to help when you need it most. I don't want to do this, Dad. I don't want to kill things and get revenge. I know you're just trying to make the world better. I wanna do the same thing, just from a different angle."
"You went behind my back and did something stupid," John growled, nose centimeters from Sam's.
Dean watched as Sam finally snapped. Calm, cool, and collected went away in blink and his baby brother was pissed.
"I applied to college!" Sam yelled. "I didn't blow up half the world or join a cult or get in league with Satan. I applied to college. If I had gone off and joined the marines would you be happy? If I was just like you?"
"No," John said. "Cuz I taught you that nothing is more important than family."
"That why you never let Dean join the fire explorers?" Sam accused. "Is that why you always made some excuse about how there wasn't enough money to let Dean follow his dream but you can go out and get ammo, new guns? Fuck making your kids happy, gotta make sure this hunt goes well. Gotta make it to the next one before they make too many friends. God forbid they have dreams of their own that aren't the ones I told them to have! Some of my earliest memories are my big brother dressed like a fireman pushing the fucking toy truck around on the floor. And you won't let him better himself. And I'll be damned if I let you do the same to me. What's wrong with wanting to be a firefighter Dad? What's dishonorable about that?"
"Shut your mouth, Sammy," John demanded. "You have no idea how hard I worked for you boys. To make sure the two of you were okay. I did everything I could. So you shut your fucking mouth."
"Make me," Sam spat. "Show me how great a father you are."
Dean wanted to hard to push them apart, stand between them and make them stop. He'd do anything to fix it. Anything in the world, but he didn't he stood there frozen watching it all happen.
"You're asking to get hit, boy," John growled.
"You know," Sam shook his head. "You say that all the time but you never do anything about it. All bark and no bite big man. Let's put your money where my mouth is."
Dean saw his dad's hands at his sides balling into fist.
"Dad don't," Dean said loud enough to be heard but not yelling. "Back off for a sec, okay? Take a breath and let's talk it out, please. Don't do this to him. Don't… don't…"
Dean wanted to say "Don't take him away from me," but he knew it wasn't about him; this was about Sam wanting to do the right thing and his father's stubbornness.
Sam stepped back out of the crowded space. Both of them were seething, chests raising and falling quickly. Clearly neither of them was ready to let this one go.
"I'm leaving, Dad," Sam shook his head. "I'm leaving and there is nothing you can do about it."
"Yes I can," John nodded. "You're my son."
"You don't fucking own me," Sam yelled. "I'm a person, Dad, a living breathing organism with hopes and dreams and the ability to make them happen. You've basically turned Dean in a fucking robot solider that only does what you want, waits for you to say how high before he jumps. I'm not like that Dad. I'll never be like that. That envelope in your hand, that's my whole future; a future that if this was any other fucking family you'd be so proud. You'd be telling everyone you know about your son that did so well for himself. But you… you… you're barely a father. Dean's been more of a parent to me that you have, and Dean's four years older than me. You let a little kid become a father. And you broke him. And I'm not gonna let you do that to me. You don't get to win this round, Dad. I'm not changing my mind."
"Alright," John nodded throwing the envelope at Sam. "Alright, go. Leave Sammy. But you walk out that front door, don't you ever come back."
"Fine!" Sam yelled turning and flying back up the stairs.
Dean shot a look at his dad then followed Sam. He was in their room shoving things into his duffle bag crying.
"Sammy," Dean said softly.
"Don't," Sam whimpered. "Don't try to stop me."
Dean placed a hand on Sam's back rubbing in slow circles like he used too when Sam was scared as a kid. "I'm not gonna. I don't want you to leave, but I'm not gonna hold ya here. I know that'll only make it worse. Can't have you hating me too."
Sam turned around, wiping the tears from his face as he looked at his brother.
"I'm sorry," Sam whimpered as he buried his face into Dean's shirt. "I didn't want it to end up like this. I really didn't. I knew it would be bad, but I didn't think he'd kick me out. I swear."
"I know, kiddo," Dean said. He pushed Sam away from him and went to his own duffle, pulling out two boxes. "I got ya this."
Dean handed Sam a cell phone. Sam looked at him confused.
"I had Bobby help me," Dean nodded. "It's in my name, my real name. The bill gets mailed to Bobby and I'll take care of it. I couldn't… I didn't want you so far away with no way to let me know if something was wrong, you know. Dad doesn't know. Bobby said he wouldn't tell. It's all set up to make calls and stuff, you just gotta do the voice mail."
"Thanks," Sam nodded wiping his nose.
"I want you to call me the moment you get there," Dean instructed. "And you call me after your first test, and when you can't stand your roommate's gross socks on your side of the room. And when you meet that girl you can't stop thinking about, and when you have that teacher you're sure is really a fuckin' demon. You call me. I'm paying for that phone, you call me all the damn time understand?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I will."
"Good," Dean smiled. He handed Sam the other box, a shoe box. "Take this."
"Dean…" Sam shook his head when he opened it, all that money Dean had saved for over a year. "I can't take your money."
"You need it," Dean said placing a hand on Sam shoulder. "You need it a whole hell of a lot more that I do. You're gonna need to eat, buy a bus ticket to Cali. You'll need books and shit. You take it."
"I can't, Dean," Sam repeated. "You worked for this."
"Yeah," Dean nodded, placing a hand on Sam shoulder. "Good honest work. I can't think of a better way to spend it. What am I gonna buy? You're the only thing I really spend money on, if you're across the country I can't keep track of what size pants you need. 'Bout time you started doing that kind of stuff for yourself, right?"
"Thanks," Sam mumbled.
"He'll come around," Dean promised. "He'll realize what he did and we'll be visiting you in a month, tops. Dad can be a dick Sammy, but he's not that big of a dick."
"Okay," Sam nodded wiping his face again. "Okay. I gotta finish packing."
"Alright," Dean replied.
He helped Sam roll up his sleeping bag, sort through the books that would worth carrying the extra weight of a cross country trip. He followed Sam down stairs and watched as he walked out the door. His little brother, the one person in the world who knew him like no one else, the only person that ever would, he watched him walk away. All the while John sat on the couch drinking beer and listening to Met's game on battery powered radio.
"How long 'til he finds his way back here?" John asked after the door closed.
"Go fuck yourself," Dean mumbled.
"Excuse me," John said turning around to face Dean.
"I'm pretty sure you heard me," Dean replied.
"You wanna show some respect?" John asked.
"After what you just did to my kid brother, no sir."
Dean went back up the room, his room now, he figured. It felt so empty without Sam's stuff. A pile of books, a holey pair of jeans, and a busted up Walkman was all that was left of his kid brother. Dean had never felt more alone in his whole life.