Fic: Price to Pay
Title: Price to Pay
Author: Kokoda2007
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me and this is just a work of fiction
Recipient: Termite
Word Count: 1700
Author’s Note: My late submission to the Summer of Sam Love. My apologies for a short and tardy entry. Termite - I will write you a sequel, I promise.
Prompt: "...my only request by way of a fic would be one in which he (Sam) is suffering."
Summary: Pre-series. The realities of the Winchester way of life rest heavily on their youngest family member.
Sam quickly wiped away his disappointment. He’d known deep down that this day would be like any other, and to let in that glimmer of hope had just been opening himself up for being let down. Again.
Fourteen today.
Maybe not a milestone, but surely worth remembering none the less.
He needed to remember that having a birthday was a normal yearly occurrence and his family was about as far removed from normal as one could get. In his heart he realised that he needed to recognise that in the greater scheme of things a birthday meant nothing. It was not as important as hunting, training, saving people.
A birthday was just like any other day.
No celebration. No recognition. Nothing.
But it was the ‘nothing’ part that hurt.
The Winchester’s weren’t ones for flashy presents or fancy gift wrapping. He wasn’t that naive. And logically, he knew he shouldn’t have expected anything. He’d been around long enough to know that expectations led to nothing but disappointment. After all, he did have a wealth of past experience to draw upon. Logic though, seemed unkindly absent today, deserting him and leaving behind cold hard feelings that threatened to rip his heart in two.
He yearned for normality. For celebration. Maybe just a little recognition.
Maybe just remembrance.
“Happy birthday to me,” Sam mumbled, eyes locked on the passing landscape.
“You say something Sam?” John snapped, his anger simmering just below the surface. Sam had disappointed him today, in a big way. His son was sloppy, his reactions slow and incompetent.
“Huh?”
“I said; you got something to say?” John repeated.
Sam glanced up, his eyes meeting his Dad’s in the rear vision mirror. “No Sir.”
Twisting around in the front seat, Dean turned to stare at Sam.
Sam met his brother’s piercing gaze. “What?”
Dean narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Whatever it is you’re hiding.” Dean teased.
“Huh?”
“Come on Sammy, only girls keep secrets.”
“You’re an ass...”
“Sam!” John chastised.
“Yeah Sammy, watch that tongue.” Dean grinned.
Sam stuck his tongue out childishly at his brother.
“Dean, don’t rile up your brother.” John gave an exaggerated sigh and glared at both boys.
“Yeah Dean.” Sam added.
“Enough!” John barked out, effectively silencing both his sons. He was too tired right now to deal with any more teenage squabbling.
Sam gave Dean a final glare before shifting his gaze back towards the passing scenery. The sun was already starting to dip in the sky and as far as Sam was concerned, this day couldn’t end soon enough.
-o-
John welcomed the silence. It was a small reprieve from the verbal barrage that had been tossed backwards and forwards between both his boys for most of the day.
Sam had been moody all day. Well, moodier than usual.
To compound things, Dean had targeted in on Sam’s sulky behavior, seeing it as an opportunity to score easy points against his younger brother. Dean had taken every chance to heckle his brother, Sam guilelessly rising to take the bait each time and Dean gleefully shooting him down. Not only had John found it exhausting to listen to, but it had turned a relatively easy hunt into a potential disaster.
Dean might like to fool around and take pot shots at his little brother, but his eldest knew when to put that aside and focus all of his attention on the hunt. Sam on the other hand, instead of getting his head in the game, had continued to sulk like a teenage girl. With his head in the clouds, Sam had become more of a liability than an asset on this hunt.
John fingered the claw marks on his cheek, a tangible reminder of just how close things had come to spinning out of control.
Unfocused during a critical moment, Sam had hesitated, taking far too long to react to the swamp beast bearing down on them. Instead of taking the clean shot, Sam had stood stock still as the creature advanced and closed the gap between them. John shuddered to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been close enough to push Sam out of the way.
John felt his anger rise again as images from the hunt flashed across his memory. Damn fool kid was going to be the death of him if Sam didn’t get his act together soon. His youngest needed to toughen up and sharpen his focus. They didn’t have time for stupid mistakes and complete incompetence.
Hormones aside, he thought he’d trained Sam better than that.
No doubt the kid had been slacking off when he wasn’t around to demand results. He was well aware that Dean was too easily swayed by his younger brother’s pleading tone and soulful eyes.
But sloppiness was what got you hurt, or worse, killed.
Excuses were easy. Just like hindsight was a wonderful thing. Neither were going to make good on today’s multitude of errors and at the end of the day, he’d had enough of both. No, John realised, he had to strike at the heart of the problem if he wanted any sort of resolution.
Sam needed to start toeing the line and stop shirking his responsibilities. A strong steady dose of discipline and routine was what would get him there. First thing in the morning, John resolved, he’d start his youngest on a more rigorous training regime.
-o-
His lanky frame slumped in the back rear of the car; Sam let his head fall back against the top edge of the seat.
He surveyed himself, eyes roaming from his mud encrusted boots, past his damp jeans and all the way to the grey hoodie that still bore testament to the brief swan dive he’d taken into a reservoir of stagnant water a few hours earlier.
Yuk.
The smell of swamp seemed to permeate the confines of the car. Clingy and nauseating.
He thought longingly of a hot shower and dry clothes. A soft bed and a few hours sleep.
His body ached with exhaustion.
But for now, there was no escape.
-o-
By the time he pulled onto the gravel driveway running down the side of the timber shack they temporarily called home, John could feel the beginnings of a headache building behind his tired eyes.
The hunt may be over and their quarry disposed of, but he felt little satisfaction. The hunt which had been planned to every minuscule detail had been unforgivably sloppy. Success had been based more on damn luck than skill.
John cut the engine and turned in his seat to look at Sam, a frown marring his forehead as he set eyes on his youngest. The hunt may be finished with for the day, but they couldn’t afford to put it behind them just yet. Instead, it was time now to analyse their shortcomings, to learn from their mistakes and make amends so that the same errors were not repeated on the next hunt.
And John knew; the burden for those shortcomings fell squarely on the shoulders of one person. Sam.
“Sam!” John hollered, feeling a moment of satisfaction as Sam startled awake.
-o-
Sam’s body protested as he jolted upright in his seat, his head narrowly missing a collision with the side window. “Huh?” he muttered, his foggy brain struggling to catch up with what was going on.
“Unload the car and bring all the gear inside Sam.” John ordered.
Sam rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and blinked at his father.
“Now Sam.” John stated, his tone eliciting no argument.
Sam sat unmoving, his half asleep body grappling to respond to the clipped order.
“I’ll grab our bags.” Dean offered, yanking open the car door and pushing to his feet.
John followed suit, sliding out of the car and rising. He stared across the roof of the car at Dean. “No. Sam will do it.”
“But Dad --” Dean started, his voice fading out as his father silenced him with a stern look of warning.
“I said; Sam will get it.” John paused as Sam got slowly out of the car. “All of it Sam. And I want the guns laid out on the kitchen table - that mud needs to be cleaned off before the damn stuff sets permanently in the barrels.”
Sam gripped the edge of the car door and stared at his dad.
“Sometime tonight Sam.” John clarified with sarcasm, before turning his attention to his other son. “Dean, shower” John ordered before turning away.
Dean looked between his dad and brother, shrugging his shoulders at Sam. “Don’t take all night bitch,” he muttered, before turning away and following his dad inside.
-o-
With tears in his eyes, Sam watched his family leave.
It wasn’t anything less than he’d expected. He’d failed to carry his weight on the hunt. He’d been a hindrance. A burden. He couldn’t deny that.
This was his punishment. Well, the start of it anyway. Sam knew he was unlikely to get off lightly. In his dad’s eyes, there were no excuses. No room for error.
And always a price to pay.
ª
End