Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me.
A/N: Hey y'all! I know it's been a while. I've just been in a long slump. But hopefully this here is worth the wait!
There were things that each of the three Winchesters wanted. Whether or not they'd ever get it was where they disagreed.
For John Winchester, it was a close relationship with both of his children. He was certainly closer with Dean than he was with his youngest Sam, but he was under no delusion that he was as close to Dean as he could be. He'd built his relationship with Dean out of Dean's willingness to do what his father said, when he said, with no question. He'd drilled into Dean that obedience equaled his father's favor, and John had taken advantage of that to no end for years. John had demanded Dean's fear and obedience and he'd certainly gotten it.
He wanted Dean to love him simply because he loved him, not because he felt obligated to do it.
Sam had been another story. When Sam was younger, he'd hero worshiped his father, but that had faded almost the second Sam found out what John really did for a living. From that point forward, though the topics of their arguments varied widely, the main issue boiled down to one theme.
I want normal.
You can't have normal. It's not safe.
Yes it is.
No it isn't.
And on and on and on. At first the fights hadn't been that bad, but they'd escalated in intensity over time until the night came that John had dreaded.
Sam had left, and as far as he could see, he was never coming back.
The day would come, John hoped, when he could have both his sons together to just….be. Talk about what was going on in their lives and have that conversation not include monsters and ghouls and ghosts and demons. But, John knew, the day would likely never come.
What Dean wanted was similar to his father's wishes, but simpler.
He wanted his family together. That was it. He didn't really care how it happened, he just wanted them together. Though he loved hunting, there was a secret Dean had that he'd never reveal to Sam.
If giving up hunting for good could make his dream come true, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
Dean would also never tell his father his wish. It seemed too close to Sam's wish for his precious normal, and whenever he could avoid it, Dean tried not to anger his father.
Sam's wish was different from both his father and brother's.
He wanted normal. He wanted safe. He was no longer delusional enough to believe that normal looked the way he always pictured it. When he'd first started dreaming of his normal life, he'd pictured a literal white picket fence, a wife, and at least one kid. He would have a normal job, usually that of a lawyer, sometimes a teacher or an office worker. He'd play in the yard with his kids, take them places he hadn't had the chance to go as a child himself, and would always be at peace.
But there was one part of his normal, Sam knew, that would never come true.
In ever true dream of a normal life he had, his father and brother were there. They'd come over to play with his children, hang out with him and his wife, and enjoy their lives themselves. John and Dean would be happy, healthy, and at peace right along with Sam.
Sam was well on his way to having one part of his dream. Just twenty minutes earlier, he and Jess had been lying in bed, sleeping peacefully. Neither of them had plans the next day, so Sam hadn't set the alarm next to their bed. He had fallen asleep looking forward to just lying in bed with Jess for the day, doing whatever the two of them decided to do.
He'd woken up to Dean in his apartment. The roller coaster of emotions he went through for the next few minutes of conversation with his brother shook Sam, but he made it a point to remain calm and stoic on the outside. Becoming emotional had always been the quickest way to make Dean stop taking him seriously. He'd at first been thrilled to see Dean, then anxious that something was wrong, and now he was angry.
He'd thought Dean had come to see him. He thought that, in his own warped, twisted way, Dean had come to him because he missed his little brother. But no. Dean needed his help finding his dad.
The mention of John prickled Sam's psyche. He'd buried his feelings towards his father for years now, unable to think about or talk about John without the anger coming through him in waves. Sam's anger scared him. He knew that he and his father's temper were virtually identical, and he'd seen his father do things when angry that still gave him bad dreams.
Dean had finished talking. Sam had heard his entire spiel, knew what it was Dean was asking. But Sam had to brace himself. He knew that what he was about to do could possibly shatter any possibility of reconciliation with Dean. Dean would be angry, no doubt, but Sam just prayed that he wouldn't be so angry that he would kick Sam out of his life permanently.
"No."
The word was whispered, and Dean had legitimately not heard Sam the first time. "What?"
"No."
Dean sputtered a moment. Surely he hadn't heard correctly. "What do you mean no, Sam?"
"I mean no, Dean. No, I'm not coming with you."
"You're not serious."
"I'm dead serious. I'm not coming with you."
"He's your father, Sam. Have you forgotten?"
"Of course I haven't."
"Then help me!" Dean said, perplexed that it was so difficult to get Sam to come. Sure Sam and John had been through a huge blowout fight the last time they'd seen each other, but surely Sam still cared enough to at least help?
"No."
"Sam, please, I haven't asked you for anything in years now."
"Don't pretend you came here to ask, Dean. You came here fully expecting me to do exactly what you told me to do."
"That's not true." Dean argued, though deep down he knew that was exactly the case.
"Yes, Dean, it is. You came here thinking that if you just asked me to help you find dad, I'd drop everything and do it. No."
Dean scoffed. "This is unbelievable."
"What's so unbelievable about it, Dean?" /span/span/p
"He's your father!"
"You throw that word around like it fixes everything. It doesn't. His last words to me were that I wasn't his son and if I walked out that door to never come back."
"Come on, Sam, you know how Dad is…"
"Yeah. I do. I know exactly how he is. Which is why I guarantee you Dad is somewhere right now, hiding. He thinks that he needs to stay away from you out of some twisted sense of obligation to protect you. He knows you'll spin out with him gone, maybe even come looking for me. Hell, maybe that's even his goal. Hide for a while so you'll get me back. I don't know and I don't care. My point is this. I said I was done and I meant it. I. Am. Done."
Dean fought the rising tide of anger welling into him. He wanted to lay Sam out, but if he did, he'd blow whatever chance he had to get Sam on the road with him.
"Sam, please…"
"No, Dean."
Dean turned and took two deep breaths before slamming his hand onto the hood of the Impala. He'd wasted an entire day here, trying in vain to get up the courage to approach Sam. He'd wasted an entire day that could've been spent looking for John. But he'd never thought that Sam just wouldn't come. That hadn't been a possibility that even remotely crossed his mind.
Well, Dean thought, if asking nicely won't work, maybe guilt will.
Dean spoke in as calm a tone as he could, but his words seethed with anger.
"You are every bit the selfish son of a bitch Dad always said you were."
Dean spotted it. Sam tried to hide it, but Dean could see it. That brief flash of hurt, the one that had always tugged at Dean's heart and activated his instinct to protect his brother from whatever came their way. Dean suppressed that urge now, praying that one sentence was enough to persuade Sam.
Sam nodded and swallowed hard. He gathered his thoughts by crossing his arms across his chest and breathing deeply. He looked down the road, desolate and empty since it was the middle of the night. He watched a street light flicker for half a second before turning back to Dean
"Maybe I am. But I'm not leaving Jess."
"Your girl in there is more important…."
"My fiance, yes, is more important."
Dean sputtered again, this time in disbelief rather than anger. "What?"
"You heard me." Sam said. "I haven't asked her yet, but I'm going to next weekend when we graduate."
"So you're…."
"Yeah. Hopefully, anyway." Sam laughed nervously.
Dean wanted more than anything to grab Sam into a hug. To congratulate him, to wish him all the best. But there was still John to think about. Dean looked away, briefly considering just getting back into the car without saying anything else. He would bury this argument with Sam just like he'd done so many others, and things would somehow go on.
One more try, Dean decided.
"Sam. I'm happy for you, dude. I am. But please. Please. I'm begging here. Help me. One day, that's all I'm asking."
"One day becomes another day and another day, Dean. No. I'm not leaving Jess. I know you don't understand. Hopefully one day you will. But I have to stay here. I have to protect her now. I'm sorry."
Dean wanted to say that he did understand, that it was okay, that he would even stay and help Sam protect Jess. But he couldn't do that. John was still his father, and despite not wanting to admit it, Sam could take care of himself. But that eternal monster, the anger that Dean felt every time things went wrong that he didn't know how to quell, reared its ugly head. He nodded solemnly, turned around, and opened the door to the Impala.
"Fine, Sam. Have a great life."
"Dean…."
Dean didn't respond. He got behind the wheel, started the engine and sped off. Sam stood and watched as the taillights of the Impala got smaller and smaller, wiping a tear away when they finally weren't visible anymore. He wondered if Dean would ever understand that what he'd just done had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, but that he couldn't see himself ever changing his mind. If he'd gone on the road with Dean, then the dreams he'd been having for the past few days of Jess dying a fiery death similar to the one his mother had suffered could come true. They might not have come true, sure, but the mere possibility of it was enough to take his breath away. Jess was the key. Protecting her, Sam was sure, would somehow lead him to the life that he wanted-nay, needed-and he prayed it would bring the three Winchesters back together again somehow.
Even still, as he turned and went back inside the house, the guilt drove through Sam like a painful splinter.
Epilogue
Three Years Later
The baby was coming the next day.
It felt surreal to Sam, knowing the exact day the baby would be coming. The doctor had scheduled Jess for a cesarean section, fearing that Jess's blood pressure was too dangerous to try for a natural birth. Despite his worry for Jess's condition, he knew one thing that caused his heart to flutter every time he thought it.
His dream had, at least mostly, come true.
There was one part missing, however.
The argument with Dean years earlier had never escaped Sam's mind. He truly believed he'd done the right thing by not going with Dean. Dean had seemingly forgiven him, and had even come to Sam's wedding. But every time he saw Dean in person, he could see it there. The resentment. The hurt. The question of why didn't you help me?
Sam had been grateful to find out his father was, indeed, alive. Though they hadn't talked, Sam wondered if he would've been able to live with himself if Dean hadn't eventually found John and hunted with him some more. John had still never found the demon, the one that had torn the lives of the Winchesters apart, but he was alive.
Sam finally got his courage together and dialed Dean's number. The rings seemed to take hours, and Sam looked at the heavily pregnant Jess as he did. He placed a hand on Jess's stomach, something he'd done countless times over the preceding months, and kissed baby Kayla's foot when it poked up. He smiled and whispered a prayer to his mother, something he hadn't done in years.
Please, Mom. Let this start bringing us back together.
"Hey, Dean. No, no, everything's fine. Look, you need to get here. I've got a hell of a surprise for you."