Welcome new followers and friends from tumblr! Follow me at jackandclairearesiblings for all the fun SPN content lol
To set the stage:
1) This story is taking a bit of a different twist than I originally planned. I thought I'd still try to follow the outline of season one as much as possible, but this is taking a bit of a darker twist than expected, and I'm a writer who just tends to go with the flow lol. That's why this chapter took so long to get out; I was trying to make sure which direction I wanted to go in.
2) I see the requests for White Picket Fence! I'm still having massive writer's block for that story, which is putting me off writing entirely. I will get back to it! But for now I'll be focusing on Normalnatural. I'm hoping getting back into writing something will break that block.
In the meantime, enjoy this hella long chapter and I'll catch you in the next one.
On with the show!
"Sam? Come on dude, open the door." Dean begged outside in the hallway outside his brother's bedroom. "Be mad at me, alright? Don't take it out on Mom and Dad. It was my idea for Brady to come out here."
Dean anxiously shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the floor.
"Look, I didn't know this would happen. Honestly, I thought it would cheer you up! Can you open the door so I can explain?"
He began to pace up and down the hall outside Sam's door.
"Come on, Sam, please?"
EARLIER...
Sam woke up in a purple bedroom. Except for the pillows and blankets sprawled onto the floor, the room was spotless. There weren't any belongings scattered about, giving Sam any indication where he was at. All he knew was his head was pounding and he needed to pee. Sam slowly climbed out of bed and opened the bedroom door. As soon as he saw the hallway, he knew exactly where he was. He had been in this house a million times. He waltzed down the hall to the bathroom and then he helped himself downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast, as he had done many times before. Like he owned the fucking place.
There was arguing. And threatening. All in sharp, tense whispers like the voices were cautious not to wake him.
"I cannot believe you brought him here!"
"His friend abandoned him and he was upset! I wasn't going to let him leave on his own."
"You should have! He probably deserved it! Fucking jerk."
"Joanna Beth-"
Sam stepped on a creaky floorboard, causing both women to abruptly stop their conversation and look at him. Ellen quickly changed her attitude, putting on a friendly smile. Jo still looked epically pissed. "Sam!" Ellen greeted. "Are you hungry? There's frozen waffles in the freezer and bananas on the counter."
Sam awkwardly stood in the doorway to the kitchen, like he was twelve again. "Yeah, thanks."
"You drink coffee?" she asked, getting up from the table and going to the brewer. Sam nodded. Ellen got down two mugs and filled both of them. "Help yourself. Everything is still where you remember it being."
Sam opened the freezer and got out a box of Eggo waffles. He popped two in the toaster, then rummaged through the pantry for syrup and butter.
"May I please be excused?" Jo asked snarkily. She kept her head down, glaring at Sam with her arms crossed at the table. A cup of coffee and a piece of toast sat in front of her.
"No." Ellen carried the mugs of coffee over to the table. "Eat."
When Sam's waffles were ready, he joined the ladies, sitting across from Jo, still giving him the stink-eye. Ellen chose not to feed her any attention. "So, Sam, what's new with you?"
"Not much," he answered nervously.
"What have you been doing since you moved back home?"
"I work at the shop."
"Doing what?" Ellen asked, sounding surprised.
"I'm at the counter," Sam said, refusing to use the title 'receptionist', no matter how many times Dean tried to correct him. "I answer the phone and cash people out."
Ellen let out a laugh. "Oh thank god, I thought Dean was letting you touch the cars!" She sighed in relief. "Not that you wouldn't be good at that, but you did flood my kitchen."
Sam's face turned pink from the memory. When he was a teen, his dad told him he needed to put down the books and start being good with handy work if he was going to get any girls. Ellen's sink kept getting stopped up with water and he thought he could snake it for her. He was wrong... And Sam never tried to be handy ever again.
"So, how, um... how did I..." Sam started to get flustered, not knowing how to ask the question currently weighing on him.
Luckily, Ellen could finish it for him. "How did you stay the night at my house?"
"Yeah, in my room," Jo snapped. Ellen about popped her in the mouth if Sam hadn't interrupted.
"Do my parents know I'm here?" Sam asked, now acting like he was sixteen.
"No. Why? Want me to tell them?" Ellen teased. Sam tensed up and he picked at his food anxiously. Ellen reached over and grabbed his hand. "Don't worry about it. You and your friend came in, you two got in a fight, he left you, and I thought I'd bring you home safely. I would have called your brother but I don't have his number."
Sam was even more confused. "How drunk was I that I don't remember any of that?"
"You weren't," Ellen answered. "You were just so upset you didn't know what two plus two is."
Now Sam felt embarrassed. He didn't like people seeing him like that, but lately, it felt like being emotional was all he was ever doing.
Sam snapped out of his thoughts to Ellen kicking Jo out of the kitchen. He listened as she stomped upstairs and slammed the door to her bedroom shut.
Ellen reached back across the table and took Sam's hand again. She rubbed her thumb across his knuckles. It felt nice. "Sam, I know it's been a while since I've last seen you, but how are you doing?"
She spoke in a low, calm voice and Sam knew she wasn't fucking around. "What do you know?"
"Mary told me you moved back because your girl died. It's all over the news. I'm so sorry."
Sam looked down at the floor and nodded slowly. He licked his lips and took a deep breath to try to fight the tears. "Thanks," he mumbled.
Ellen let go of Sam's hand and grabbed her coffee. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Sam. You started a screaming match in my bar last night. I had to stop customers from calling the cops."
"I'm sorry."
Ellen tsked. "Are you taking care of yourself, Sam?"
Sam slammed his hands on the table. "Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay!? How many times do I have to tell them that I am!?"
"You can tell them as many times as you want, but they'll only stop asking once they see that you are okay."
Sam scrunched his face. "What the hell does that mean?"
"It means I see a lot of people come through my bar. Most of them grieving some sort of loss they can't get over and they think alcohol and fighting are the only things that are going to solve their problems. And some of those people either wind up in jail or dead."
Sam couldn't help the feeling of his eyes getting wet. Everything Ellen was telling him was hitting him hard. And sure, it was no different than anything anyone else had been telling him, but the way Ellen talked felt too real. "You have a lot of people who love you, Sam," she continued. "No one wants to see this turn into you going down a dark path."
"So what do I do?" Sam asked desperately.
Ellen pulled a business card out of her jeans pocket. "This is who I saw after my Bill passed." She slid the card across the table in front of him. "She was a godsend."
Sam took the card and ran his fingers along the edges. Dr. Tabitha Molly. Grief counselor and therapist.
"Thank you," Sam said, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.
"Come here, honey," Ellen said, opening her arms. Sam leaned over the chair and went in for the hug. Ellen gave him a tight squeeze and gave him a pat on the back. "My door is always open if you need it. Just don't go starting any more fights in my bar."
Sam let out a small laugh. "I promise."
"SAM!" Dean yelled, running in through the front door to the house. Brady was right behind him. "SAM! Are you here!?"
"Dean Michael Winchester!" Mary scolded, coming into the living room from the kitchen. "What the hell are you doing screaming in my house?"
"Is Sam here?" Dean pleaded.
"No, he's supposed to be with you," Mary answered confused. "Isn't he with you?"
Dean brushed her off, running up the stairs to Sam's room. He opened the door and flipped on the light. There was no sign of Sam anywhere.
"Dean, what is going on?" Mary asked, trying to keep her cool. "If your father wakes up-"
"Sam's missing."
Mary was caught off guard. "What do you mean he's missing? What happened?"
"Ask this guy!" Dean said, angrily gesturing to Brady, now awkwardly standing at the top of the stairs.
"Dean, I told you, Sam's wandered off before. He'll come back," Brady explained for the umpteenth time that morning.
"Yeah, why don't you take that explanation and shove it up your ass," Dean muttered, shoving past him and going back downstairs, just in time to see Sam mosey on through the door and latch it behind him.
"Dean? What are you doing- ugh!" Sam grunted on impact from Dean rushing into him and pulling him into a hug.
"Please don't ever disappear like that again," Dean whispered in his ear.
Sam's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "I didn't?" he said, his inflection sounding like a question.
Dean shoved Sam off of him. "Then where the hell were you?"
"Across the street?" Sam tried to explain, pointing out the window. "I watched you pull up. Dean, what's going on?"
"Sam!" Mary said, coming over for her hug. "Are you alright?"
Sam gently pushed her away, getting annoyed at his family's overreacting. "I'm fine! After the bar, I went home with Jo," he semi-lied.
"JO!?" Mary and Dean asked at the same time. "Wait, since when are you two friends again?" Dean added.
Sam just shrugged his shoulders, making his way towards the stairs. He wanted nothing more than to shower and go back to sleep in his own bed. But when he walked into his room, he found Brady sitting at his desk.
"Hey," Brady said gently, standing up upon Sam entering.
Oh great.
Brady licked his lips nervously. "Listen, Sam, I'm sorry about last night."
"Are you?" Sam snapped, that anger from the day before rising again. "I thought you came to hang out, not participate in my family's intervention."
"It was a little bit of both, honestly," Brady tried to reason. "We're all just so worried about you Sam. And things are only going to get worse since Jess' family keeps pushing for an investigation. And you're the future lawyer in our group so you know how messy murder cases and trials are."
Sam sat down on the edge of his bed and rested his head in his hands. Brady rocked back and forth on his feet.
"I really shouldn't have let you leave last night." Brady continued. "It's just that when we fight, you are so hard to get through to and I thought you'd make your way back to Dean's. We didn't even know until we woke up this morning and you weren't there."
Sam continued to sit on the bed, trying his best to disassociate. Anything to not be here right now.
"Come on dude, please say something."
"You should go."
"What?"
Sam removed his hands and looked Brady in the eye. "You coming here was a big fucking mistake and you should really go."
"Sam-"
"GO."
Brady straightened his shoulders. "Fine. I'll have Dean drop me at the airport and switch my flight."
Sam continued staring Brady down until he turned around and left. He listened to his footsteps go down the stairs, followed by quiet voices, the front door opening and closing, and Dean's car start and pull out of the drive.
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out Dr. Molly's business card. He ran his fingers along the edges, reading the phone number over and over in his head.
"Sammy?" Mary asked gently. Sam didn't even notice her standing in the doorway. "Are you okay?"
All Sam could do was shake his head. He started sobbing and Mary quickly sat next to him on the bed, grabbing one of his hands and rubbing his back.
"I think I need help, Mom," he said in between cries.
"Okay. Whatever you want, we'll do."
Sam just handed her the business card.
PRESENT...
"Come on, Sam, please?"
"He's not here," Dean heard his dad say as he walked up the steps.
Dean turned around so fast, he got whiplash. "Now where the hell is he?"
John sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Mom and I took him to the hospital while you took Brady to the airport."
"You did what!?" Dean asked, his eyes popping out of his head.
"He asked us to," John answered calmly. "We called a therapist and she recommended it. We met her down there and it sounds like it could really help him."
Dean's head started spinning. Sure, Sam was moody and dramatic at times, but this? This was next level and it terrified Dean. He tried to swallow the fear and panic back down his throat, but he felt like he was going to lose.
Next thing Dean knew, he was resting his forehead on his dad's shoulder as John wrapped an arm around him for support. Dean couldn't even remember the last time his dad had hugged him.
"We're not going to lose him too, are we?" Not my little brother...
"No. We're not going to lose him."
coffeeaddict13