CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD

WAYWARD SOUL

CHAPTER 7

Sam was speechless. He didn't have the answers his big brother was looking for. He wasn't sure how to forgive someone. He wasn't always happy with his life. He hated the way he was raised, but he didn't experience the same fate Dean did. He wasn't beat on. He only knew love, that was all Dean's doing. Dean made sure Sam knew he was loved. He made sure he knew he was protected and safe. When he had nightmares, after finding out what their dad really did, Dean was always there to comfort him. Always there to reassure him when he was scared. Dean taught Sam how to hunt. He taught him with love and patients. Sure, he got irritated at times, they were brothers, after all, but he never truly raised his voice at him, or his hand. Dean never inflicted the violence on Sam the way their dad did with Dean. Sam turned out okay. He was a great hunter, that just proved it wasn't necessary to have so much violence in teaching. Sometimes, their dad would make them fight each other. He would pull over somewhere in the middle of nowhere, either a big pull off space on a gravel road or an open field, and he would make them fight. Dean knew what his consequences were if he lost, but he wasn't going to beat his brother to a pulp. He used the opportunity to really teach Sam how to fight. Sure, Dean could have beat him every time, he was trained well enough he could have killed him with his bare hands, but instead, Dean used it as training opportunity, he made sure Sam understood the moves to make, understood his opponent's moves. He let Sam get the best of him most of the time. He would take his punishment from Dad, knowing it was for Sammy, to make him who he needed to be. It wasn't just about strength and endurance, not to Dean, not for Sam, it was about smarts too. He wanted to make sure his little brother used his head when he hunted. Dad had taught Dean how to take the pain, which only led to reckless behavior. Dean was lucky he hadn't gotten himself killed yet, especially after their dad told him how to make sure he got hurt during hunting.

Sam cleared his throat, "I don't know" he answered Dean's question. "I don't know how someone even survives the life you had, Dean. I don't know how you aren't some broken down shell." Dean quickly raised his eyebrows then released them, his way of responding to what Sam had just said, his way of saying that's all he is, a broken shell. "Dean, you… you have survived so much, and you keep fighting, even when you don't want to, you keep going, you fight through. I don't know, maybe that's how you forget? Maybe that's how you forgive? You, in your own way, show the person, in this case Dad, that you are better than the way they treated you. You're better than that, Dean. And every day that you continue to fight, you just prove that more and more. Every day that you push on, you leave your past a little further in the past. You move past it. You don't let it control you." Another eyebrow raise from Dean. "What?" Sam asked, wanting to know what Dean's thoughts were on what he just said.

"Sam, I do let it control me. Everything I do is Dad screaming in my ear. I do everything exactly the way he taught me, I still follow his every command, even though he's gone. I still allow him to control me."

"Dean, no, no you don't. Don't you see that man? Yeah, sure, he's going to be shouting in your ear, for years to come, you don't just forget everything you've been taught, but there's a lot of things you do that would have Dad rolling in his grave, you might do a lot of things the way Dad wants, but you also do a lot the way you want. You have branched out, became your own person, well, have started to anyhow. Don't you see that Dean?" Dean was hanging on every one of Sam's words. Right now, he felt like he had nothing else to hang on to. Nothing else holding him together, nothing but Sammy.

"Hey Sam," Dean spoke, "Will you finish reading them? I want to know what else Dad thought" Dean was almost childlike, full of fear, scared of the uncertainty that the words held. He always loved his dad. He was his dad, he didn't have a choice, he hated the things he did, the things he allowed to happen, but he loved the man. He was always sure that his dad loved him too. There were hints in his words that he did, but he also always knew he loved Sam the most. He couldn't blame him, Sam was awesome. Secretly, Dean felt pride in how well Sam grew up. He was proud of the amazing man he had become.

"Do you wanna take a break first?" Sam asked, "maybe get some more sleep?" Dean sat on the corner of Sam's bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried in his hands, he just shook his head no as a response. In fact, Dean was tired of sleeping, he was tired of the nightmares that plagued his dreams.

"You can sleep, Sammy" Dean replied as he stood from the bed, "I'm going to go check out the storage room while you sleep". He started putting his boots on, he looked like an emotional wreck.

"Dean, we can do that later, why don't you try to get some sleep again?" Sam suggested. Sam was exhausted and wanted to sleep as well.

"It's okay little brother, you get some sleep, I'll be back in a while." Dean said, picking up the keys to his baby.

"Do you really think you're in any shape to drive?" Sam asked, concerned about his brother's current state of mind and how much he had to drink. Dean, annoyed at Sam for pointing it out, sat the keys back down,

"fine, I'll walk" Dean replied as he walked out the door.

"whatever" Sam said out loud, to himself as he laid his head on his pillow for some much-needed rest.

Dean stopped by the liquor store on his way to the storage room. Once inside, he closed the door behind him. He wanted so badly to curl himself up in the memories of this room and live forever. He missed his mom more than anyone could imagine. He missed the happy little family they once were. He looked through the boxes, saw papers their dad had kept of Sam's accomplishments. Straight A report cards, student of the week, school pictures of his snaggled tooth little brother. Sam looked happy, he really did, he looks relaxed and stress free in his pictures. His eyes, they didn't hold a care in the world. There wasn't much in that box that belonged to Dean. No surprise there, he didn't ever like school, didn't do good at it, in fact the only thing of Dean's in the box was his GED that he got after dropping out of school to hunt with his dad. Another box, it held old bills, old electric and water bills, house payment receipts, all from his childhood home. It also held the papers from when his parents had bought the home when they first married, and papers from where it was sold after Mary died. It had the fire marshal's investigation papers, and all the reports about that night. There were pictures, pictures of the window in their home, covered with black ashes, the glass broken out, pictures of inside the nursery, everything burnt, his mom's little remains, a piece of her burnt night gown, both in the pictures and in the box. It was secured in an evidence bag inside the box. Dean picked it up and held it in his hands, he was holding a piece of his mom for the first time in a long time. He wondered if that's why his dad kept it? So, he could have a piece of his wife, the only piece that was left. He carefully placed it back in the box and slid it back on the shelf where it came from. He then found a box of letters, some love letters John and Mary had written back and forth. Some from when they were dating and some from after they were married. There were little papers with hearts and pictures drawn on them. As he looked through the box he found an envelope, it was labeled 'to Dean, from Dad. To be opened on your 18th birthday' Dean picked up the letter and sat on the floor, carefully opening the envelope, he began to read.

"My dearest Dean, we brought you home from the hospital today. I couldn't believe it, I have my own son! You were such an easy delivery for your Mom she had an easy pregnancy with you. You only made her sick just a little at the beginning. I loved to watch you grow, watch your mom's tummy grow. I'll always remember the first time I felt you move. I was rubbing your mom's stomach and you kick my hand. You felt so strong, I knew right then that you would be a boy. I didn't have a doubt in my mind. Your mom, she didn't care either way, as long as you were healthy, I agreed, but secretly I really wanted a boy, and here you are. You have such a sweet, soft cry. You don't cry often, but when you do, it's the cutest thing. I love to sit and watch you sleep, it brings so much peace to my busy life, so much calmness. Your mom, she recovered just fine after having you. She's a trooper. She's such a good mom. She loves you so much. My sweet Dean. I love you so much! I couldn't ask for a more perfect boy. I'm not sure where your life will lead you, what you will become when you're older. But I know you will make me proud. I know you will be amazing at anything you do. Perhaps, you will play baseball or football? Or maybe you will just enjoy being outside, climbing trees and tinkering with cars. The possibilities for your life are endless. You have a world of possibilities out there, just waiting for you. I know you'll embrace every moment, every opportunity that comes your way. I'm excited, and a little nervous, to see what life holds for you. I'm sure we will have our fights, I'm sure we will have a lot of disagreements, but it will make both of us stronger, son. I want you to know whatever life holds, the good and the bad, I will always be there for you. I will always love you. Even the times that it may seem I don't care, I do. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me! My sweet, sweet Dean. I just hope you know how special you are. I hope, as you grow, you never forget that you are special and you have a purpose for this life. You can make a difference in the lives of many, all you have to do is believe in yourself. I believe in you. I love you son. Always remember, I love you. Love, Dad"

Dean sat there, tears running down his face, shocked. Unbelievable. He couldn't believe what he had just read. The first words of adoration, the first words of love that he could remember his dad saying about him. This, this is what he had been searching his whole life for! This is the confirmation that, at least at some point in his life, his dad loved him. Not only did he love him, but he was proud of him, and he believed in him. He believed Dean could be anything, could do anything. He had the utmost faith in his oldest son. Dean gathered his bottles, both empty and full and took the letter with him, locking the door back, disposing of the empty bottles in the trash, he walked back to the motel. When he stepped inside, Sam was sleeping. He didn't even respond when Dean walked in. Quietly, he removed his boots and sat on his bed, he had leaned himself against the pillows on the headboard, taking a few more drinks, finishing the bottle he had been drinking on, he sat, in the silence, staring at the envelope that he held in his hands. Tears dripping down his face, he sat there, motionless, speechless, until he started to doze off and darkness crept in, leaving him slipping further from the day and into sleep.