Hello again!
dask1507 - Dean was totally staying for Sam. Isn't John just an asshole?
Long Live Brucas - I'm already planning for moments when Sam does run away to Dean's place. I'm excited.
deangirl1996 - Thanks for continuing to read and review! The dreams will be a little different than on the show (because there's no hunting) but I'm thinking of some ways to make them somewhat similar.
Kathy - Dude it's so hard writing their relationship! Obviously they're not as close as they would be on the show, but I didn't want them totally estranged like that one alternative episode so I'm trying to find that common ground in the middle. I'm glad to hear it sounds like it's going well.
On with the show!
Jess ran into the bedroom, locking the door. She looked around the room for something to put in front of it. Anything to stop him from coming in. When nothing seemed to look like it would work, Jess thought she'd take her chances, locking herself in the bathroom. She hid in the shower, pushing the buttons on her cell phone as everything in her body shook.
"911. What is your emergency?"
"Someone broke into my apartment!"
Sam woke up in a panic, tears rushing down his face. It took him a good amount of time to realize he was in his childhood bedroom and not his apartment in Palo Alto. Pulling his knees to his chest, he allowed himself to sob for a few minutes. What kind of cruel joke was this? It's like he was there in the apartment but there was nothing he could do except watch his terrified girlfriend scream and cry.
Sam gathered his thoughts and emotions. Throwing off the blankets, Sam stumbled into the bathroom. He didn't even bother turning on the light; the old t-rex nightlight his mom dug out of god knows where was perfectly fine to make his way around. He ran the water in the sink and splashed some on his face. When he came back up for air, he swore he actually saw Jess standing in the mirror behind him. Gasping, he turned around quickly to check for himself. Reality set back in and Sam shut off the water.
Sam went out through the main bathroom door, tip-toeing his way down the hall toward the stairs. When Sam was younger and had a nightmare, he'd go into his parents' room, tap his mom on the shoulder, and say he had a bad dream. She'd let him climb into bed with them and he'd cuddle with her as she wiped his tears away and sang quietly to him until he went back to sleep. John would usually be annoyed about it and act grumpy the next morning, but Sam didn't care. His mom made him feel better and that's all that mattered.
For a moment, he wondered if she'd still do it at his grown age.
Sam walked down the stairs, avoiding that one creaky step, and into the kitchen. He made a bowl of Lucky Charms and turned on the television. Law and Order was having another all-night marathon. Might as well. Nothing else good is on.
So Sam munched on his cereal and watched the show. He made it through about three episodes before he drifted off to sleep again.
John ran to the front door, hoping to answer it before the aggressive knocking woke up everyone and their brother in the whole neighborhood. He peeked through the peephole and groaned. Bracing himself, he opened the door.
"What can I do for ya, Ms. Harrison?" he asked, dreading this conversation already.
A little old woman stood on the front porch, waving her keys in his face. "Your boys peed in my flower bed again!" she accused.
John sighed. "I can promise you they did not."
"Well, they did something to it! My petunias are wilting!"
"Maybe it was that alcoholic boy toy of yours," John retorted.
Ms. Harrison gasped. "Jason is not an alcoholic!"
"Takes one to know one."
The woman was too stunned to speak.
"Have a nice day, Ms. Harrison," John said, shutting the door in her face. He watched through the peephole as she adjusted herself, turned around, and marched back down the driveway across the street to her house.
"Who was that?" Sam asked on the couch, waking from the commotion.
"Did you piss in Ms. Harrison's flower bed?"
"What?" Sam asked, still groggy.
"Nevermind," John mumbled. "Clean up your mess!"
Sam looked over at the coffee table. His dishes from his late night snack were still out and there were throw pillows and blankets everywhere. Groaning, he sat up on the couch and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Today was going to be a rough one.
Mary came skipping down the stairs. "Morning!" she called. She stopped at the bottom when she saw her son. "Did you sleep out here all night?" she asked, frowning.
"Uhhhhh... No?"
Mary tsked and walked over to the couch. "Are you feeling alright?"
Sam groaned again. "I'm fine, Mom. I just woke up and couldn't go back to sleep so I watched some tv."
Mary put her hand on his forehead anyway. Sam rolled his eyes and let her. Almost disappointed he didn't feel warm to her, she asked again: "Are you sure you're alright?"
"The boy said he's fine, Mary," John said, walking through the living room with a cup of coffee. "Leave him alone."
Mary looked back at her son. He gave her a cheesy grin to help sell it. Mary dropped the subject. Hoping to escape her hovering, Sam quickly grabbed his dishes and booked it out of the room.
"I just had a great idea!" Mary said. "John, what if Sam worked at the shop for a bit?"
Both men came back into the living room. "WHAT!?" they both asked.
"Well, you need something to do," Mary explained. "And it is a family business after all."
"Dean taking over for me does not make it a family business," John corrected.
"Oh come on! Like you weren't hoping one of our kids would take over someday," Mary argued.
"Mom, I don't know anything about cars," Sam said, using his only defense.
"I'm sure Dean could find something for you. It'll be fun! The two of you working together."
"Are you forgetting the last time Dean and I worked on something together? Ms. Harrison's garage caught on fire."
John snorted, trying not to laugh too hard at the memory. Fun times that summer was.
"Well, yes, but that was when you were younger. I'm sure you'll both be less likely to destroy something now."
John and Sam both stared at her, absolutely flabbergasted. Was this woman serious?
"You don't have to make a decision now, but promise me you'll think about it?" Mary asked, walking past Sam into the kitchen.
Sam turned to his dad. "Help me get out of this one?" he asked hopefully.
"Alright," Dean said, rolling up the sleeve of his jumpsuit. "Do you know how to change an oil filter?"
Sam sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room, feeling like a little kid again, about to have his big brother determine if he was cool enough to hang out with his friends. He shook his head no.
"Do you know how to change a spark plug?"
Sam shook his head again.
"Can you rotate a tire and check the pressure?"
Another shake.
Dean bent down and looked Sam in the eye. "Do you know what a car is?" he asked in a high-pitched voice, as if he was speaking to a toddler.
"Don't be a dick!" Sam accused. "Mom made me come here."
"Oh, well, since Mom said," Dean muttered. "What am I going to do with you?"
Sam shrugged. "We could always lie? Pretend I work here or something?"
"Can you lie to Mom?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head for a fourth time. "Yeah, I didn't fucking think so." Suddenly, the phone rang. Dean practically flew over the counter to answer it in time. "Winchester Auto, Dean speaking."
Sam blew his bangs out of his face. He stood out of the chair and walked around the small waiting area, waiting for Dean to finish on the phone. He typed something in the computer, made some inside jokes, and hung up the phone.
"I got it," Dean said. "Receptionist."
"Sit here and answer phones all day?" Sam asked. "Yeah, no fucking way."
"It's not just phones," Dean explained. "Come here." Sam waltzed behind the counter where his brother was standing. Dean pulled some things up on the computer. "Customer calls to make an appointment, you go to this screen. Checking people out when they pick their car up, you go to this screen. All transactions happen on this screen, and this is a little bonus screen if someone wants something from the gift shop."
"You guys started a gift shop?"
Dean tapped on the glass case behind him holding snacks, drinks, car air fresheners, and small gadgets. "Had to pay for your college somehow, law boy."
Sam cringed at the nickname. That felt like a whole other lifetime ago.
"What do you say?" Dean asked.
Sam thought it over. "I guess I could give it a shot."
The phone rang again. Dean pointed to it. Sam sat on the stool behind the counter and answered the phone.
"Winchester Auto, Sam speaking, how can I help you?"
coffeeaddict13
