When the Cradle Falls

Chapter Sixteen: Burning Bridges

2001

Time as a kid seemed to move differently. Dean remembered his childhood feeling eternal, like it would never end. And he had been okay with that. He liked gallivanting across parks in the dark with stumbling and giggling girls, and then the next night sneaking through a forest, hunting down a monster that was only supposed to exist in nightmares.

More importantly than that, Dean had previously split his childhood into two mental sections. Before his mother had died and he lived in an actual house was the first part of his life. Although he didn't remember much, there were enough flashes that let Dean know those four years of his life had, in fact, happened.

The second part was the only life Sam had ever known. It was the three Winchester men, traveling the country, staying in motel rooms, and hunting monsters. For Dean, those had been the glory days. It was nothing but his father, his brother, and him against the world.

That childhood fantasy had ended abruptly, when Dean stood in a brownstone home in Chicago, seeing a baby that resembled him in alarming ways.

After that moment, Dean no longer felt like a kid. He didn't get nearly as much joy as traveling, especially if they moved terribly far away from Chicago. Hunting was still something Dean enjoyed, maybe a little too much. But there was also something he enjoyed as much.

And that was spending time with the little family he had created.

As Dean and Sam grew older, it became increasingly easier for Dean to break away from John and his brother for a while to go visit Allie and the kids. It was always under the assumption he was going on a hunt. John didn't question it much anymore, especially since Bobby was always sure to back up Dean's story if ever need be. Dean wasn't entirely sure what Bobby had said to his father to loosen up, but Dean was grateful for that.

Because of that, Dean was there for Noah's first steps, he was there when Cara had her first ballet recital. Although not there all the time, he saw his kids grow before his eyes, making sure to visit them every few months. Each time he went, it was like he was looking at different kids. Noah kept getting bigger and bigger and Cara's hair grew longer and longer. They were getting smarter and growing into their personalities that made them uniquely Cara and Noah. It was amazing to see.

He was there when Alice got her GED and then CNA and was there to help her move out of her aunt's house into the suburbs. Although not his official home, Dean couldn't help but feel like he could see himself there. As long as Alice was there, he would go anywhere. She could live in a high rise apartment on the other side of the world and he would have followed her.

However, while this was occurring, a schism was growing between John and Sam. They had never gotten along as well as Dean had with the two of them, but there hadn't really been much of a choice. Sam had been a kid who didn't have much control of his life. He had been torn between following in his father's footsteps and the desire for a normal life that he never indulged to a living soul.

Ever since he had turned eighteen and graduated high school, Sam had been a flight risk. He didn't go on solo hunts like Dean did. He didn't really want to. Instead, he sent applications all over the country.

He got a lot of letters of acceptance, and a few scholarships.

But he held out, and finally got the golden ticket he'd been waiting for.

A full ride to Stanford.

He'd been sitting on the secret for quite a while, feeling slightly guilty for bringing it up to either John for Dean. Never had he been able to build up the necessary amount of courage to admit it.

"Which hunt sounds better?" John asked, gulping down another drink of whiskey.

From where he sat behind a stack of books, Sam ignored his father, scanning the page of small print, but not really retaining any of the information.

"Hey. I asked you a question."

"What?" Sam asked gruffly, shaggy hair still covering his vision from seeing his father.

"I said which hunt sounds better? The couple that fell out of the sky twenty miles from their home and survived or the nun that-are you even listening to me?"

Feeling himself tensing, Sam prepared himself. John always blew everything out of proportion, especially when he'd been drinking-which was a daily occurence. Over the years, Sam had got used to diffusing the situation, or avoiding it all together. But this time, he was tired of having to roll over for his drunk of a father. He was tired of being stepped on.

"No, I wasn't listening to you, Dad," he replied smartly, sharply slamming the cover of the book shut.

"Excuse me?" John demanded, polishing off another drink.

"I don't give a shit which hunt you go on, Dad."

"What the hell is your problem, Samuel?" John stood up and leaned forward over the table, trying to intimidate his son.

Feeling like he was thirteen again, Sam tried to not feel as small as he used to when John yelled at him. Remembering the scholarship letter at the bottom of his duffel bag needled a slew of anger into Sam's veins. He was tired of being pushed around by his family and moving around so often and hunting.

Sam was tired of being a freak.

"I'm done," Sam said. "I'm done." He repeated the word to affirm he was actually serious. He meant it. He was done with the motel rooms and the training. All of it.

"You're done? Done with what?" John spat back.

"With you! I'm done with you, Dad! I'm done with putting up with your crap! I'm done with you treating me like a soldier and making me feel like an idiot for wanting to do something with my life!" While he yelled, Sam was moving around the room, grabbing anything that was his. Hands full, he stomped over to the duffel that sat on the bed and shoved everything inside it.

"Not this shit again! I'm tired of hearing about your damn feelings Samuel! You're eighteen years old; it's time you man up and start acting like it!"

John was right about one thing: Sam finally was manning up. Although not in the way the older Winchester would have expected.

Grabbing something from the bottom of his bag, Sam chucked the envelope he'd kept hidden so carefully at John. The father caught it when it hit is chest. "What is this?"

"It's a full ride. To Stanford. I'm going." Sam replied, zipping up his duffel bag.

"The hell you are." John let the letter fall to the table. "You're not going anywhere. You have an obligation to this family-"

Sam got an actual laugh from that. "What a fucking joke. You know that's bull, Dad. You dragged us all over the damn country looking for a demon that killed mom eighteen years ago! If you haven't found it by now, you're probably never going to find it."

"You watch your damn tone before I-"

"You think Mom wanted this for any of us? How do you think she'd react to seeing you like this, Dad? She'd probably be disgusted with you for what you did to us. You screwed us up. Turned us into freaks. You-"

In the middle of his angry tirade, John moved like a bolt of lightning across the room and sent a terrifying right hook to the side of Sam's face. Sam fell like he weighed nothing, feeling something metal slamming against his cheek. Immediately, the entire left side of his face radiated agonizing pain.

And this was from someone who knew how to take a punch, who'd been through all sorts of pain.

But that punch hurt. It wasn't just the physical pain, but the meaning behind it.

"Don't talk about Mary. You don't know her. You never did," John muttered quietly. He moved back once Sam stood up and glared at his son with fire in his eyes.

"And who's fault is that?" Sam hissed, pressing a hand to his cheek. He knew John didn't have any control over what happened to his mother, but he was in shock that his father had hit him. He'd gotten close, but John had punched or slapped the boys. Sure, he'd grabbed them by the shirt and shook them a few times, but never did anything to leave a mark.

"And you think she'd be proud of you for this?" John snapped back.

Feeling his chest breaking in half, Sam shook his head, not wanting to be part of this anymore. It wasn't who he wanted to be or who he was. The environment was poisonous. His father was toxic. And he was tired of it. Grabbing the duffel bag, slung it over his shoulder and made his way for the door.

Before he could turn the knob, the door swung open from the other side. A particularly jovial Dean stepped into the room, a bag of food in his hands, causing Sam to grimace. He didn't know how his older brother was able to remain cheerful all the time. It pissed Sam off.

Freezing, Dean immediately sensed the tension between the two. He slowly set the food down and quickly noted the situation. John was leaning against one of the beds, heaving. There was a half empty whiskey bottle on the table. And then there was Sam, standing against the wall, duffel bag over his shoulder. His face was swollen.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, looking between the two.

Neither of them said anything.

"I asked what was going on," Dean demanded a little more harshly, trying to sound authoritative.

"Your brother thinks he's too good for us," John accused softly.

"Just because I-"

"Hey! Enough you two!" Dean cut them off from bickering. The fight had obviously been a bad one. Again, Dean had missed it. He didn't know how many fights he'd missed between the two of them. He also didn't have any idea how far Sam and John had drifted. But now, it was irreparable. He saw the mark on Sam's face and how John cradled his fist.

Dean turned to his brother. "Sammy, what's going on?"

"I can't do this anymore. I'm leaving."

"Where you gonna go?" Dean asked. He didn't actually think Sam was serious.

"California."

"What's in California? Besides four dollar bottles of water?"

Sam pointed to the table, towards a crumpled envelope. "I'm going to college. I got a full ride to Stanford and I'd be an idiot not to take it. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, Dean." Please be happy for me. Please say you're happy for me.

"Sam…" Dean began, but couldn't think of anything to say. He was proud of his kid brother, he knew he was smart. But there was also a part that felt guilty. Guilty that Sam hadn't told him about this. It was obviously because Dean wasn't around enough. And Sam didn't think he was worth sharing the information with. Maybe if Dean had been paying better attention, Sam could've shared his excitement with someone else. And what would Sammy do all alone in California? He had never been alone in his entire life.

Taking Dean's tone as one of a disapproving older brother was the final straw. Dean had always been pretty supportive of whatever Sam wanted to do, but the one thing Sam wanted more than anything, not even Dean agreed with. "Whatever. It's not like you're ever here anyways," Sam muttered. He pulled the door open.

"Sam, you walk out that door, don't come back! We're done if you leave!"

"That's what I want, John!" Sam yelled back one last time. With that, he disappeared into the darkness of the parking lot outside the motel room.

John stalked over to the door and slammed it loudly.

A final, chord breaking ring reverberated around the room that was still resonating with the fight between father and son.

Dean made a move towards the door.

"You go after him Dean, consider yourself in the same boat as your brother," John warned, throwing himself down on one of the chairs.

Obediently, Dean took a step back from the door and went to sit on the edge of the bed, the one that had been Sam's bed. He tried to comprehend everything that had happened in the last few minutes.

Sammy was gone.

Characteristically, Dean couldn't help but think it was partially his fault. He was usually the bridge between Sam and John and when he spent more time with Alice, that bridge had apparently been burned.

And how could Dean not know how unhappy Sammy was? What kind of older brother did that make him? Regardless of Sam's age, Dean was always supposed to watch out for Sam. That had been his one job. And he couldn't even do that.

It obviously wasn't something that had happened over night. This fight had been festering for years. And maybe it was inevitable, but maybe if Dean had been around more, he could've done something.

The remaining two Winchesters sat in silence for a few minutes. "What did you say to him, Dad?" Dean asked.

"Why do you think it's something I've said to him? Sam has been checked out of this family for a long time, Dean."

"Look, I'm not saying Sam should've said what he said, but neither should you. He'll cool down and he'll come back," Dean assured, although he didn't believe himself. Even though he didn't know what either said, he didn't really think he wanted to know.

"He won't. I don't want him to come back."

"Dad-"

Woodenly, John mimicked an angry Sam, by grabbing all of his things and stuffing them in his bag. "There's a case in Raleigh...a couple fell out of the sky completely uninjured. No memory of what happened."

Dean hesitantly watched his father pack in a blind rage. "Dad," Dean began carefully. "Are you sure you want to hunt right now?"

"People don't stop needing us, Dean," John barked back. John grabbed his keys to the pickup truck he bought himself after he gave Dean the Impala. "I'm not going to sit around bitching about this when he's not coming back." John moved to the doorway. "Find yourself a hunt, Dean. We'll meet up in a couple weeks."

With that, just like Sam, John left as well.

Completely alone and blindsided, Dean didn't think about much when he grabbed his phone and hit the first number on speed dial. It was instinct at this point.

The other line didn't pick up, just kept going to voicemail. He recognized that it was one o' clock in the morning, in the middle of the week, but he couldn't stop himself from calling three more times, until someone picked answered.

"What the hell do you want?" The greeting was much more hostile than Dean had ever heard Allie use. No doubt she was trying to get some sleep before having to work the next morning. He couldn't really blame her.

"I'm coming to Batavia."

There was a pause. "What happened?" Alice asked, more awake, realizing there was a reason for the call.

"Sammy left. He left for school and I don't think he's coming back. Then my dad got mad and left, saying he'd check in in a few weeks. They had a huge fight and now they're both gone."

"Oh Dean," Alice intoned softly.

"I need you Allie," Dean admitted, feeling his voice break. He swallowed back a cry. He wasn't gonna cry. Not over this.

Never had Alice heard Dean sound so broken, so childlike. It effectively freaked her out, but she couldn't show that. Dean needed her. She needed to be strong, so she would be strong. He'd been there countless times for her, and now she had to be his rock for once.

"I'll be here, Dean. I'm here whenever you need me. Forever."

"Thanks. I'll be there in the morning."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too, Allie. I'll see you in a few hours."

"I'll be here," she repeated.

The motel room was quickly abandoned and Dean found himself behind the familiar dashboard of the Impala. Regardless of everything that had happened, a sense of comfort from being behind the wheel of the black car assured Dean.

The roar of the engine was like a lullaby for Dean. He remembered falling asleep to that sound when he was a little kid. It also centered him, brought him back down to reality, and grounded him.

After coughing and grunting several times, Dean put on a stony face and swerved out of the parking lot, away from a town he hoped he never saw again.

A bit of a time jump, but things are definitely gonna start picking up! I had this combined with the next chapter but decided the two flowed better separately. That's why this chapter was a bit short, but the next one is more than half complete and will be longer.

I hope you enjoyed!

Reviews of any kind are greatly appreciated!