Sam is going to kill Dean. In terms of breaking a promise, this has got to be a new record for how quickly he had gone from respecting Sam's wish, to completely disregarding it. And he didn't even act particularly slick about it either. Sam had heard Baby's engine shut off as he had entered the school, and by ducking around a crowd of seniors, and waiting, instead of heading to the library immediately as he had intended, he was able to watch his brother approach the school, a look of grim determination on his face. And, who should be the morning hall monitor today of all days but creepy Mr. Mikail? Sam had watched as Dean approached, tempted to head him off as he noticed Mr. Mikail taking note of his approach as well, but before he could the warning bell had rang, and Sam, deciding risking detention was not worth killing his brother when he can do it risk-free later tonight, had hurried off to the library to attempt to get in some last minute studying. But now, as he sits in the back of the room, pencil tapping nervously against his textbook, Sam can't focus on dates and names and important locations for the second world war. He is too busy trying to imagine what on Earth Dean could possibly be saying to Mr. Mikail, and, more importantly, how this is inevitably going to blow up in Sam's face. Sam knows he should have kept his mouth shut. Mr. Mikail hasn't done anything except felt slightly off to Sam, not exactly a capital offense, and Dean is probably in his classroom interrogating the poor man about him. Which can only possibly lead to two possible outcomes. Either Mr. Mikail hadn't been looking at Sam weirdly, and he has been stressed and moody and angsty and reading too much into things, with some of his father's usual paranoia starting to show itself in him as he suspected was the case and even mentioned to Dean, but now he most definitely would be looking at Sam, and his overprotective, jumping the gun big brother, oddly, and cautiously. Or, he had actually been watching Sam with the dislike and wary vigilance Sam had thought he had been picking up on, and Dean seeking him out has just opened the floodgates for Mr. Mikail to maybe do more than just look at Sam like he is dangerous, and hiding something, to maybe act on whatever misgivings Sam has inadvertently given him. The thought unnerves him. School has always been a refuge for Sam, a place of safety, a few bullies here and there aside. It was a haven, and teachers he has always viewed as guardian angels almost. So to have potentially gotten on the bad side of one… and then, all of a sudden, as that thought hits him, Sam suddenly isn't so mad at his brother anymore. In fact, he is sort of glad Dean made himself known. While Dean can be charming and disarming when he wants to be, he can also be terrifying, and dangerous, and intimidating. Maybe if Mr. Mikail knows that if he messes with Sam, Dean is the one who will come knocking, he will be more likely to leave Sam alone. A mix of shame for his instant anger at Dean, and gratitude for his actions fills Sam, and he decides that maybe he will hold off on murdering his brother just yet. Seems like having a big brother still has its uses. Especially as it clicks for Sam that maybe Dean hadn't broken his promise to Sam to leave things alone because he didn't trust Sam to make the judgement call, as was Sam's initial thought process, but because he trusted Sam's instinct more than Sam does himself. The thought makes Sam feel warm inside, and happy. Given how often he feels at odds in his family, like a liability, and a burden to the two strongest, bravest, best hunters Sam has ever met, to have Dean back him up so unquestioningly gives him hope that maybe he isn't as out of place as he sometimes feels. As Sam looks down at his notes, something about the role of the Treaty of Versailles in the collapse of Germany post World War One, Sam debates with himself if he should mention to Dean that Mr. Mikail isn't the only one he has been getting weird vibes from since they arrived in Moses Lake. Rodney, Dean's boss, had a habit of being polite and cordial to Sam whenever Dean was around, but in the few times they had been alone together, he had turned ice cold, and flat out ignored Sam, as if he had suddenly turned invisible. Then the was the waitress from last night. Michaela, Sam thinks her name was, though it had been so late and he was so tired that he could be mistaken. He was used to waitresses flirting with Dean, and giving him the vast majority of their attention, but usually they were at least a little bit friendly to him as well. But Sam could have sworn he saw something like hatred in her eyes when she had looked at him. Or, if not hate, at least extreme irritation, and annoyance. Even the local librarian had done her best to be as dismissive and cold to Sam as she could have been, the few times Sam had made it down there to do some research on the haunted house. And Sam has been trying to think of reasons for the weird behavior. Maybe Rodney just doesn't like kids, and the waitress had had a long, difficult shift and was mad at almost anyone, and the librarian just thought he was another teenage hoodlum looking to use the library the way he has seen other kids use it, to smuggle drugs, or harass the elderly with loud, rude behavior. But, the more Sam thinks about it, the more he is getting the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that the problem isn't teenagers in general. It is probably just him. Above him, the loud, shrill school bell rings, signaling the end of first period, and Sam jumps, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. Deciding quickly that he will mention the weird reactions he has been noticing around him to Dean, after school, Sam quickly gathers up his books and notes, and departs the safety of the library, heading for his English Lit class, very glad that he doesn't have history until last period. At least he will have some time to gather his thoughts and decide how he is going to handle Mr. Mikail after his chat with Dean. But, in the very annoying habit that time has, of defying all rationality, the day seems to be running at five times the normal speed. It feels like only seconds have passed since he was sitting down to listen to a lecture on Shakespeare's portrayal of villainy, before he is walking down the hall towards his history class, slinking into the back of the room to take his seat, his heart pounding with anxiety and his hand white-knuckling the strap of his backpack, only partially from his stress for the upcoming test. But before he can get to his desk, he feels a hand rest on his shoulder and he tenses, looking up to see Mr. Mikail looking at him, his face calm but oddly… blank. Maybe not blank, exactly, but almost masked. As if he is determined to not let any emotion through.
"Samuel. Would you mind if I spoke to you for a minute before the test?" He asks, and his tone is even, quiet and polite. Unable to detect any of the dislike he has been sensing lately, Sam nods carefully, all the more suspicious for the sudden change in demeanor. Clearly, something had changed since Dean spoke with him. He follows Mr. Mikail back towards his desk, as the other students file into the classroom, half quiet and fidgeting nervously, the other half complaining loudly about the test.
"Is everything okay Sir?" Sam asks cautiously, keeping his tone as quiet and respectful as always.
"Well, Samuel, I was actually going to ask you that." Mr. Mikail says, leaning forward slightly, his hands clasped on the desk. "I had a conversation with your brother this morning, and he reminded me that you haven't been here all that long. You have done remarkably well with catching up to the rest of the class, so much so that I sometimes forget you are still a new student. Adjusting to a new town, and a new school, can be hard for a lot of young kids, and perhaps I haven't been as mindful of that as I should have been." Mr. Mikail pauses and Sam frowns in confusion. This isn't at all how he had expected this conversation to go. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay, Sir." Sam answers slowly. "This isn't the first time I've switched schools during the semester."
"Yes, your brother mentioned that." Mr. Mikail actually smiles, a touch of warmth entering his expression, for the first time that Sam can remember. "He is very protective of you, you know. And proud. He seems like an incredibly decent young man himself."
"He is." Sam agrees wholeheartedly, pleased that other people seem to be seeing how good Dean is, the way he does.
"Is it just the two of you?" Mr. Mikail asks, the usual concern Sam has heard a thousand times in his voice, although not as heavily as he is used to, and not in a way that makes Sam think he has to worry about a call to CPS. One of the many benefits of Dean being a legal adult, is that the question about Sam's custody that almost inevitably always comes up has upgraded from being one of legality to one of sympathy.
"Just for a bit." Sam says, smiling slightly. "Our dad is military. He is deployed right now, but he is coming back soon." Dean and Sam had decided that was the easiest cover story for their father. The whole 'on a business trip' thing had earned them nothing but headaches, either in the form of judgmental CPS agents, or too much attention by being the focus of gossip of entire towns. The poor boys whose father was always traveling for work. But as soon as they switched to claiming that their dad was serving, and that Dean had stepped up to take care of Sam in his absence, the judgement turned to sympathy, and understanding, and the gossip turned to polite indifference. People left them to their business, no more questions asked. And, since they never specify which branch of the military their father supposedly serves in, there are no funny questions asked if John appears randomly one day, or disappears the next. Although the amusement they all get whenever he is around, and some well meaning civilian thanks him for his service never fails. And, to their surprise and delight, their well-meaning lie has also scored them more than a few benefits, like free meals, discounted groceries, even tickets to a theme park once, from an elderly teacher Sam had back in freshman year. Mr. Mikail nods, studying Sam carefully, before reaching into his drawer.
"Well, I am glad to hear that. A young man needs his father figure." Mr. Mikail says softly, and Sam frowns slightly. He gets the distinct impression that the history teacher isn't talking about him. "Your brother also mentioned to me that it is your birthday, Samuel." Just what all exactly did Dean and Mr. Mikail talk about? It isn't like Dean is a particularly chatty person, and he usually doesn't bring up personal details like that, especially about Sam.
"Yeah, it is." Sam confirms carefully, watching his teacher much more carefully. He smiles slightly, though the smile isn't as warm as the one he had earlier.
"Well, given the interest I have noticed you have in history, I thought you might enjoy this." Mr. Mikail pulls out a small, thin book from the drawer and hands it towards Sam. He takes it, utterly bewildered by the entire exchange, and looks down, his stomach dropping as he sees a picture of the house they had come to check out on the cover. Quickly, he reads the title. A History of Moses Lake, by C.O.M. Sam frowns down at it. He has never heard of an author using entirely initials on their books. For first, and middle names even, sure, but not last names as well. Sam glances curiously up at his teacher, who is studying him curiously. "It is important, I think, for everyone to understand the history of the town they live in. To understand the roots, the people, wouldn't you agree?"
"Absolutely." Sam says immediately. If only Mr. Mikail had any idea how right he is, Sam muses thoughtfully. Sam knows the local history for more small towns across the country than Mr. Mikail could possibly imagine. And who knows, maybe this book will unlock the very confusing mystery of Michael Manor. "Thanks, Mr. Mikail." He nods once, before looking pointedly back at the desks.
"Of course. Now, you should take your seat, the test is about to begin." He says, and Sam glances around. Almost all of the rest of the class has found their seats, and Sam hurries to find his, tucking his new book into his bag just as the bell rings again. He sets his bag on the floor, pulling out his pencils as Mr. Mikail stands. "Alright everyone, books away, pencils out." He starts walking between the rows of desks, handing out the tests and Sam tries to turn off his spiraling thoughts about the weird exchange they just had. There would be time to dissect it all, and discuss it with Dean later. Now he just needs to be focused on World War Two, its causes and its immediate fallout. As soon as the tests have been handed out, and Mr. Mikail gives the word to start, Sam bends over his paper and starts writing. He flies through the multiple choice section, easily deals with the short answer page, and is onto the essay question before a quarter of their allotted time has passed. After he has finished his essay, answering the question: In your opinion, where did Nazi Germany cross the line from devoted nationalism to compliant imperialism, and how did the compliance of the masses endorse, and support the evil of Hitler and his political party? Sam turns the page over and has to force himself not to laugh at the bonus question. What do you think happened to Hitler after he disappeared in 1945? The subject had been greatly debated between him and Dean. While Sam is convinced that he had died, and was secretly buried by loyal soldiers, in a grave that was kept hidden to protect the body from vandalism or desecration, Dean has much wilder theories, ranging from time-travel to the future, to Hitler having been a monster of some kind, a literal one, most likely a shape-shifter who simply changed form and disappeared into the masses. Grinning, Sam puts down his theory, although he looks up when he feels eyes on him, meeting Mr. Mikail's stare from across the room. And as their eyes meet, Sam's grin fades, because the dislike is back in his eyes. More than that though, Sam sees that… something has changed. There is a confirmation in his expression. Like Sam has finally done whatever it is that Mr. Mikail has been expecting, and he is both vindicated and spiteful. Sam looks down quickly again, confusion and worry sweeping through him as he tries to think of anything that he did that might have caused that kind of reaction, and coming up completely blank. When the final bell of the day rings, Sam is all to eager to grab his bag, stuff his pencils inside of it, and then walk his test up to the front with everyone else. Refusing to look at Mr. Mikail this time, Sam simply adds his test to the pile and gratefully joins the swarm of students sweeping towards the exit. He had stopped using the assigned lockers he has had at every school since freshman year about a year ago, since he and his family often needed to pick up and leave at a moments notice, and he was tired of leaving things behind, or getting the annoyed looks from his father when he insisted that he at least be allowed to get his stuff before the fled whatever town it was they were fleeing at the time. Nowadays he just keeps everything he needs for school on him at all times, so if he does need to leave quickly, he is always ready to go. Which is exactly what he needs right now. The weird conversation, the even stranger looks, it is all making Sam extremely uncomfortable, and he all but shoves his way through the crowded halls, happily breathing in the fresh air when he makes it out the doors not even two minutes after the final bell rang. Pausing on the steps to soak in the sunlight and the spring breeze, his eyes automatically go to the parking lot and he relaxes even more as he spots Baby, Dean leaning against her casually as he waits for Sam. He immediately sets off across the school grounds, heading for his brother and the safety he, and the car honestly, always seem to radiate. And, while Dean grins widely, but nonchalantly at Sam when he catches sight of him, Sam can also see the same relief in Dean's eyes that he himself is feeling, and again can't help but wonder about the conversation that Dean and Mr. Mikail had had.
"Hey tiger." Dean calls when Sam gets close enough. "How did your test go?" Sam hesitates.
"Odd." He admits, and Dean raises an eyebrow, climbing into the drivers seat as Sam gets into the passenger seat, not wanting to discuss this out in the opening. "Mr. Mikail was… weird."
"Weird how?" Dean asks. Sam glances at him.
"He told me you had a meeting with him." Sam says pointedly. Dean glances at him, a hint of guilt and embarrassment in his eyes.
"Sammy…" He starts, and Sam sighs, fighting back a grin as he knows that Dean is about to launch into a not-apology apology. About to explain and justify why he didn't listen to Sam, and why it was the right thing to do without ever actually saying sorry. It is kind of his move, and mostly it irritates Sam, but today he is feeling generous and decides to let his brother off the hook.
"It's okay, I get it." Sam says, and Dean visibly relaxes when he realizes Sam isn't angry, or even overly annoyed. "But what exactly did you tell him?"
"Not much." Dean shrugs, turning on the car, and starting to back out of the parking lot, pulling out onto the road and starting to drive away from the school. "He told me you were acing every homework assignment, like the nerd you are, and that you were always polite in class. But he asked about our home life. How you are at home, how you are adjusting to the new town, new school. If there was any behavior you were exhibiting that could be considered troubling." Dean laughs derisively, but Sam knows his brother, and he can hear that Dean is as baffled with the teacher as Sam is. Which means that Dean picked up on more than just concern for the new kid in his conversation. "Honestly though, the talk turned more towards me. What my job is, how long I've been in charge of your ass." Dean snorts. "He even asked what my hopes and dreams are."
"Really?" Sam can't help but laugh as well. Between the mountain of plaid, constant dirt and grime and oil stains, the leather jacket and the muscle car, it doesn't take a genius to realize Dean is very much not a 'hopes and dreams' kind of guy. Anything even remotely touchy-feeling sends his brother running for the hills.
"Well, no, not in so many words." Dean grins, lightening up a little the further they get away from the school grounds, and honestly, Sam is feeling the same, gladly watching the road pass as they drive back towards the house, neighborhoods and shopping centers flying past as Dean continues to observe speed limits as recommendations. "But he did seem overtly curious in whether or not I was happy being your guardian, and seemed to think I am just settling being a mechanic." Sam looks at his brother grinning.
"I assume you told him to go to Hell." Sam teases. "Since being my guardian is your entire purpose in life after all."
"Please." Dean rolls his eyes. "I asked him where the nearest orphanage was." Sam laughs, and Dean grins. The words, their jokes, float harmlessly around them both because they both know the truth. Sam knows all too well that Dean loves being able to take care of him. In fact, ever since he was eighteen, he took on most of the responsibilities for Sam that needed an adult. Signing him up for school, doctor checkups, parent-teacher meetings, stuff that Dad was usually too busy hunting to handle. And Sam got the distinct impression that it mattered more to Dean to be able to do these things, than it did to Sam to have them done. Sam thinks that Dean finds some sort of peace in being able to make sure Sam is taken care of. And he knows for a fact that he can count on one hand the amount of people Dean trusts outside of himself to do the job right. And, as for settling for being a mechanic… clearly Mr. Mikail has never seen Dean around cars. More than once Sam has teased his brother about being an autophile, and seeing if Vermont had any laws about marrying a vehicle. And more than once Sam has paid for those jokes, but they had been worth it. The light mood in the car changes however as Dean glances over at Sam. "So, why did my talk with your teacher make things weird?" Sam tells him about his conversation with Mr. Mikail, Dean frowning as he listens attentively. And, once he pulls up to their house, Sam hands him the little book that he had been given. Dean raises his eyebrows at the cover, and then, just like with Sam, his eyes go to the author. "C.O.M?" He asks. Sam shrugs.
"Beats me." Sam says. "Never seen a book with authors who don't sign it without at least their last name." Dean frowns more, studying the cover photo more closely. "I don't suppose it could just be a coincidence that my creepy teacher just happens to give us a book that features the house we came here to hunt, could it?" Dean glances at him, smirking slightly although his eyes are still thoughtful.
"I think that's a coincidence about as much as I think Dad is going to give up hunting to pursue figure skating." Dean replies, turning the book over to read the back.
"So a decent chance then." Sam grins. Dean laughs.
"Smart ass." Dean says.
"Jerk." Sam grins.
"Bitch." Dean rolls his eyes, offering Sam the book back. "Here, go add this to your pile of files. We can look at it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Sam frowns in confusion. "Shouldn't we be looking into this right away?"
"Nope." Dean grins, climbing out of the car. Sam follows, grabbing his bag and shutting his door, following after Dean as he heads towards the front door.
"Why not?" Sam asks, completely baffled. Usually, Dean was as obsessive about hunting as Dad was. Every lead needed to be chased down immediately, lest it disappear out from under them.
"Because, I am an awesome big brother." Dean unlocks the door, gesturing for Sam to go first. Puzzled, Sam walks inside and then pauses, blinking in surprise. On the living room table that had held his school supplies this morning sits a small mound of presents, a couple cards, a small cake that reads Happy Birthday Sammy in blue frosting, and a pile of movies. Sam blinks in shock. "There is pizza on its way for dinner, to, but figured you would want it hot and fresh, not having sat out while you took your sweet time at school." Dean teases. Sam looks at him, his eyes wide. Birthdays were never this big a deal in their family. Usually they just gave a small gift or two, and maybe let whoever was celebrating pick what they got for dinner, but that was it. Dean smiles wider at the wonder in Sam's expression, and shrugs casually. "Sixteen is a big day, Sammy. You deserve to celebrate it properly." He hesitates, a sudden uncertainty in his expression that he quickly tries to mask, failing horribly. "Unless… you would rather something smaller, or different."
"It's perfect." Sam moves, throwing his arms around his big brother, dumping the book and his bag on the ground. All thoughts of the weird townspeople, and his weird teacher, and the possibly fake haunted house leave his head, and he is just standing with his brother, and the best birthday surprise he has had in years. Maybe his entire life. Dean hugs him back after a second, and Sam feels the tension drain out of his brother. Clearly Dean had been worried Sam might not like his surprise, but how could he not? "Thanks, Dean."
"Anytime squirt." Dean's voice is amused, and teasing, but Sam feels the love under it, the glee at Sam's happiness, and, honestly, the slight smugness. "Come on, check out your gifts." He pushes Sam away slightly, and Sam goes easily, slightly surprised Dean let him hug him for as long as he did. Immediately, Sam moves over to the table, studying the piles. The movies seem to be all of his and Dean's favorites. Looking at the presents, Sam raises an eyebrow.
"How did you afford all of this?" Sam asks curiously. Dean shrugs.
"Got an advance on my pay cheque." Dean answers. "Rodney was great about it to. Didn't even ask my why I needed it." Something about the casual way Dean says that rubs Sam the wrong way but he chooses to ignore it, promptly deciding that right now isn't the time to bring up his concerns about seemingly being singled out by the town. Right now he is going to have cake and soon pizza with his brother, open some gifts, watch some movies, and enjoy his birthday.
"Are all of these from you?" Sam asks, pointing at the presents. Dean shakes his head.
"Dad, Bobby, Caleb and Pastor Jim sent you some things to. These ones." Dean separates three gifts from the other four. "Are from me." Sam's eyes widen even more, and he notices Dean grinning even more smugly now. Whatever Sam had been expecting for his birthday, Dean has completely blown those expectations out of the water. In truth, he would have just been happy with the dinner that Dean had surprised him with at midnight last night. Or, Sam supposes, more accurately this morning.
"Dean…" Sam is speechless. He never expected anything like this, and he has no idea how to express his gratitude for any of it. Dean gives him a soft, warm smile, and all the smugness and teasing Sam expected is gone from his face.
"Like I said Sammy, it's a big day." He says gently. And then, probably sensing how dangerously close to chick-flick territory they were heading, he shrugs. "And also, I am awesome."
"You really are." Sam agrees. "Can I open these?" He points at the gifts and Dean nods excitedly.
"Go for it." Dean sits down on the couch, and Sam kneels beside the table, setting Dean's aside for last. He always opens Dean's gift last, because its always the one he is most excited for, the one he appreciates the most. He reaches for his father's gift first, unwrapping a beautiful silver hunting knife, complete with a sheath and belt, and the blade itself is inscribed with an S.W. As much as he might be starting to seriously resent everything hunting related, he can't deny it's a beautiful blade, or how much he really likes it. Setting it carefully aside, he turns to the other gifts. Bobby has sent him a new lock-picking set, and a new jacket, leather like his father's and brother's, and one of the cards. Caleb has sent him a new book, a compendium on ancient Greek, Persian and Roman hunters, monsters and mythology, along with a card promising to help him steal a car for himself the next time they meet up, since Dad has his truck and Dean has the impala. A card that has both Sam and Dean roaring with laughter, because Caleb had made Dean the same promise when Dean turned sixteen and Sam can still hear their father shouting from when they had pulled up to Pastor Jim's in that obnoxiously ostentatious mustang after Dean had actually taken Caleb up on the offer. The funniest thing was, even though Dad had made Dean return the car before anyone could trace the theft back to them, Dean and Caleb hadn't actually gotten into any trouble, because Caleb explained that he was teaching Dean how to hotwire, and then drive, a car since he might not always be able to get to the impala. Having the skills to make a getaway in any car that might be available is a necessary skill for any hunter to have. As well as being able to clean and ditch the car without detection, or leaving any trace behind. And, to Dean's delight and Sam's utter surprise, Pastor Jim and Dad had agreed. After that, Dad had Dean stealing and hotwiring and returning cars for months, until he was comfortable with the majority of the different makes and models out there. He even has Dean now look at government reports, of which cars are most popular in whichever area of the country they are headed to next, so that both of them are prepared, should they need to both steal a car, and make sure it is one that will blend in to the crowd. And, now that Sam is sixteen, it seems like Caleb is offering to give him the same kind of lessons. When his laughter dies out, but his smile is still on his face, Sam reaches for Pastor Jim's gift. Besides the last of the three cards, Pastor Jim has also sent Sam a book. This one on demonology and angelology, including ranking hierarchies for both sides. Sam flips through it quickly, enthralled by the beautiful artwork and glossy cover of the book, and he runs his fingers over the page, glancing at some of the names. Castiel, Zachariah, Uriel. Michael, Gabriel, Raphael. Lucifer. Oddly, as Sam reads the name of the devil, innocently typed in black ink, chills roll through his body. Sam quickly changes the page, seeing a list of demons. Lilith. Remiel. Azazel. Something inside of Sam twists into a knot and he quickly closes the book, deciding on the spot that his birthday is no time to be reading about demons. Although he is sure his Dad is going to want to borrow it the second he gets here. He reads anything and everything to do with the beasts. Dean lets out a whistle as he studies Sam's haul so far. "You are making out like a bandit this year Sammy."
"Tell me about it." Sam smiles happily. Despite the odd feelings at Pastor Jim's gift, Sam loves it. Loves everything he has gotten so far on what is fast becoming his best birthday ever. Carefully setting aside his previous gifts, Sam reaches for the ones from Dean. The largest he unwraps turns out to be a new backpack. All black, and clearly multipurpose, easy to use both for school and camping/hunting, the sheer newness of it seems to highlight just how bad off his previous bag was. In fact, Sam is half-convinced that the next time his current bag sees sunlight, it will turn to dust. Grinning, Sam sets it aside and opens the second gift to reveal another book, but unlike Caleb's or Pastor Jim's, it isn't a lore book, or have anything to do with hunting. It is a hardcover edition of To Kill A Mockingbird, that Sam has wanted for ages now.
"I feel bad for you, having to lug all these extra books around in your duffle." Dean teases, but Sam just holds the book close for a moment, before gently placing it with the others. Sam doesn't care about the extra weight, or the room they will take up. He already adores these books and plans on cherishing them for a long time to come. Picking up the smallest gift, Sam frowns, feeling next to no weight in the tiny box. Only when he shakes it does he hear a small rattling noise that tells him Dean wasn't just pranking him with an empty box. Dean chuckles and Sam sees a look of anticipation in his eyes. Eager now, Sam rips open the box and opens the lid, gaping in surprise as he sees the contents of the box. A small, silver key. Awe and delight fill Sam as he looks up at his brother.
"Is this what I think it is?" Sam whispers. Dean smiles hugely.
"Yep. You still aren't allowed to touch her without my being present, but I figured at sixteen you've earned the right to have a key." Dean says proudly. "That being said, you ever steal her without my express permission, or you do anything to hurt her, I reserve the right to punch you in the face." The words have absolutely no heat or real threat behind them, but even if they did, Sam wouldn't have cared. Gingerly, almost reverently, Sam reaches into the box and pulls out the spare key to Dean's greatest treasure, their family's most important belonging. The impala.
"I… Dean, I… thank you." Sam whispers wondrously, looking up at Dean, wide-eyed and excited. "Does this mean I can drive her?"
"Sometimes." Dean shrugs. "If you are nice to me." Sam leaps up and moves to his brother's side, hugging him tightly. Dean laughs gently, before embracing Sam back.
"Thank you." Sam repeats.
"Anytime Sammy." Dean says softly, hugging Sam tightly once, before pulling away. Sam sits on the ground again, clutching the key, a symbol of his brother's trust, and love, tightly in his hand. "Now what do you say we dig into this cake before it dries out? Then I'll order the pizza and we can put on some of those movies."
"Sounds perfect." Sam says, entirely honestly. He moves back to the table as Dean gets up and walks to the kitchen to grab a knife and some plates. Sam looks down at the key again, and smiles widely. Yeah, Sam thinks he'll keep Dean around. No sense in killing his big brother just yet.