Fic: Wild By Skye (13/27)
The silence on the drive back was thick and oppressive. Neither Winchester would be the one to speak first, even when a thousand things needed saying. Sam silently begged his father to just don't ask. It was an impossible hope, John wouldn't leave this alone, but Sam didn't want Dean's secret dissected by the one person he'd tried so hard to keep this from. In the months of keeping Dean's secret, Sam had become just as protective of it.
They pulled up behind the Impala and Sam wordlessly got out of the car and started hiking the same path he and Dean had taken earlier.
"Where are you going?" John called after him, confused.
"Dean's keys are in his pants; he ditched those right before." That was all Sam would say. Before.
It took a while because he wasn't running all-out this time, but Sam found Dean's scatter of clothing and fished them off the forest floor. He retrieved the Impala keys from Dean's jeans pocket, put them in his own, and headed back to the car. John had stayed back with the cars and looked up when Sam emerged from the woods with Dean's clothes and shoes in hand.
Sam still didn't say anything to him. He knew his father had a thousand questions, but Sam didn't want to answer them. He wouldn't answer them unless John forced the issue. And he would. Sam knew he would. But Sam wouldn't volunteer anything until it was dragged out of him.
Sam tossed Dean's things in the car passenger seat and moved to get in behind the wheel.
John was blocking his way.
Sam tensed and met his father's piercing gaze.
Here it came.
"What has your brother become?" John asked lowly. In true John Winchester fashion, when he lit on a topic he went right for the throat. And there was an edge to his voice. An edge Sam knew. The bladed edge of John Winchester, hunter.
Sam bristled. "Nothing dangerous."
John's expression hardened at the evasive answer. "What is he?" he repeated darkly.
"It doesn't matter," Sam snapped stubbornly. He would give anything for his dad to just shut up. Stop asking. Stop questioning and stop doubting. Why couldn't John trust Sam? Or, if not that, have a little faith in the son that had always made John proud? If he couldn't trust Sam, then let him believe in Dean.
John frowned as he scrutinized Sam's face. "How long?"
Sam narrowed his eyes. "You mean, how long has he been… what he is?"
John nodded slowly.
"Years." Sam stood defiantly and made John connect the dots. Let John realize he'd been the one hunting alongside Dean like he was now and never noticed something different or amiss. Let him understand Dean was still Dean, Dean as John had known him.
John blinked in surprise. Sam felt some satisfaction at that.
John eyed Sam. "How long have you known?"
Sam shrugged, as though it were immaterial. "A few months."
John took a step back. "What did this to him?"
Sam knew what his father was thinking. He would hunt down whatever inflicted this upon his son and kill it. Revenge. A life for a life, an eye for an eye. That was John's answer to everything.
Their dad wouldn't know it had been Skye, not a monster but a woman. A woman Dean had loved.
Sam sighed. "Just leave it alone, Dad." Sam tried to move past his father to the driver's side door.
John grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly to a halt. "Leave it alone?! You're kidding, right? Something turns your brother into a creature and I'm supposed to leave it alone?"
Sam jerked his arm free from his father's grasp, anger spiking hotly. "You're so narrow-minded! Just because it's something you don't understand, something you can't make fit into your idea of good and bad, doesn't mean it's something evil. This is Dean we're talking about, Dad!"
"That," John pointed toward the woods, where Dean had been a wolf, "was not your brother!"
Sam punched him. He wasn't sure who was more surprised, John or himself. John stumbled back and brought a hand up to his jaw, blinking in surprise.
"Don't you dare say that to him!" Sam yelled. This was everything Dean had been afraid of, the reason he'd been hiding what he was like it was something shameful and wrong. Because their father would see the beast, the monster, the hunt, and not the man and son at the core.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" John countered fiercely as he recovered from the shock of his youngest decking him.
Sam was tired and worn thin, his body seemingly on a hair trigger and fit to explode. It had been a brutal day and he felt wrung. John was testing him when Sam had already been a volcano ready to blow. His hands were in tight fists at his sides.
Sam took a few deep breaths. "If you're going to treat Dean like a damn hunt, don't bother coming back."
John gaped at Sam a moment. Then, ominously, he said, "He's not human anymore, Sam."
"So what are you going to do? Waste him? Put a bullet in him? In Dean? Your son?"
John didn't answer, and Sam knew why. John hadn't really thought about what he was going to do, just what he had seen. He only knew how those kinds of creatures, like the creature Dean had become, were categorized in his world of supernatural enemies… he hadn't factored in the creature being his son, too. Not yet.
Sam went to the car door and wrenched it open. He shot a dangerous look at his father. "If you're going to see the hunt and not your son, don't even come near us. We don't need you if you're going to look at him like he's a thing."
Without waiting for his father's response, Sam got into the Impala and drove off, leaving his father behind and heading back to Dean.
Fourteen
They pulled up behind the Impala and Sam wordlessly got out of the car and started hiking the same path he and Dean had taken earlier.
"Where are you going?" John called after him, confused.
"Dean's keys are in his pants; he ditched those right before." That was all Sam would say. Before.
It took a while because he wasn't running all-out this time, but Sam found Dean's scatter of clothing and fished them off the forest floor. He retrieved the Impala keys from Dean's jeans pocket, put them in his own, and headed back to the car. John had stayed back with the cars and looked up when Sam emerged from the woods with Dean's clothes and shoes in hand.
Sam still didn't say anything to him. He knew his father had a thousand questions, but Sam didn't want to answer them. He wouldn't answer them unless John forced the issue. And he would. Sam knew he would. But Sam wouldn't volunteer anything until it was dragged out of him.
Sam tossed Dean's things in the car passenger seat and moved to get in behind the wheel.
John was blocking his way.
Sam tensed and met his father's piercing gaze.
Here it came.
"What has your brother become?" John asked lowly. In true John Winchester fashion, when he lit on a topic he went right for the throat. And there was an edge to his voice. An edge Sam knew. The bladed edge of John Winchester, hunter.
Sam bristled. "Nothing dangerous."
John's expression hardened at the evasive answer. "What is he?" he repeated darkly.
"It doesn't matter," Sam snapped stubbornly. He would give anything for his dad to just shut up. Stop asking. Stop questioning and stop doubting. Why couldn't John trust Sam? Or, if not that, have a little faith in the son that had always made John proud? If he couldn't trust Sam, then let him believe in Dean.
John frowned as he scrutinized Sam's face. "How long?"
Sam narrowed his eyes. "You mean, how long has he been… what he is?"
John nodded slowly.
"Years." Sam stood defiantly and made John connect the dots. Let John realize he'd been the one hunting alongside Dean like he was now and never noticed something different or amiss. Let him understand Dean was still Dean, Dean as John had known him.
John blinked in surprise. Sam felt some satisfaction at that.
John eyed Sam. "How long have you known?"
Sam shrugged, as though it were immaterial. "A few months."
John took a step back. "What did this to him?"
Sam knew what his father was thinking. He would hunt down whatever inflicted this upon his son and kill it. Revenge. A life for a life, an eye for an eye. That was John's answer to everything.
Their dad wouldn't know it had been Skye, not a monster but a woman. A woman Dean had loved.
Sam sighed. "Just leave it alone, Dad." Sam tried to move past his father to the driver's side door.
John grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly to a halt. "Leave it alone?! You're kidding, right? Something turns your brother into a creature and I'm supposed to leave it alone?"
Sam jerked his arm free from his father's grasp, anger spiking hotly. "You're so narrow-minded! Just because it's something you don't understand, something you can't make fit into your idea of good and bad, doesn't mean it's something evil. This is Dean we're talking about, Dad!"
"That," John pointed toward the woods, where Dean had been a wolf, "was not your brother!"
Sam punched him. He wasn't sure who was more surprised, John or himself. John stumbled back and brought a hand up to his jaw, blinking in surprise.
"Don't you dare say that to him!" Sam yelled. This was everything Dean had been afraid of, the reason he'd been hiding what he was like it was something shameful and wrong. Because their father would see the beast, the monster, the hunt, and not the man and son at the core.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" John countered fiercely as he recovered from the shock of his youngest decking him.
Sam was tired and worn thin, his body seemingly on a hair trigger and fit to explode. It had been a brutal day and he felt wrung. John was testing him when Sam had already been a volcano ready to blow. His hands were in tight fists at his sides.
Sam took a few deep breaths. "If you're going to treat Dean like a damn hunt, don't bother coming back."
John gaped at Sam a moment. Then, ominously, he said, "He's not human anymore, Sam."
"So what are you going to do? Waste him? Put a bullet in him? In Dean? Your son?"
John didn't answer, and Sam knew why. John hadn't really thought about what he was going to do, just what he had seen. He only knew how those kinds of creatures, like the creature Dean had become, were categorized in his world of supernatural enemies… he hadn't factored in the creature being his son, too. Not yet.
Sam went to the car door and wrenched it open. He shot a dangerous look at his father. "If you're going to see the hunt and not your son, don't even come near us. We don't need you if you're going to look at him like he's a thing."
Without waiting for his father's response, Sam got into the Impala and drove off, leaving his father behind and heading back to Dean.
Fourteen