The John Winchester Chronicles: Abandoned
A/N This is my version of the day Sam leaves for Stanford...
The John Winchester Chronicles
Abandoned
By Woman of Letters
John Winchester picked up the letter lying half-hidden among some books on the small coffee table. The letterhead read “Stanford University” in slim, tall white lettering across a burnt red background.
“What is this?” he asked harshly, glaring at the boy sitting across the motel room, on the bed. “Are you starting this nonsense again?”
“Dad, please,” his son pleaded, brushing his curly bangs out of his eyes. “It’s not nonsense. I was accepted on a full scholarship...”
John stared impassively at the young boy, taller than his older son and already showing the same fire that he himself had at his age. He could remember arguing with his own father, but he shoved the thought aside. This was not about him.
“I can’t believe you’d do this,” he said, but his son cut him off.
“Can’t believe I’d do what? Go my own way?” The boy snorted, shaking his long, wavy hair out of his eyes. “Not want to keep running after monsters?”
The boy began putting some clothes into a duffel.
“The acceptance letter came today, Dad. I’m going, and nothing you can say will change my mind.”
“But your mother... “ The man gripped his rifle, that he had been polishing in the low light of the motel room. “You know what this thing did to her...”
“And so what if we find this thing?” the boy asked. “How many monsters do we have to kill before we stop, Dad? Will any of this bring her back?”
“You don’t understand!” he shouted. “It’s not safe... You’ll never be safe out there. Not on your own.”
“I don’t want this life, Dad. It’s not what Mom would have wanted for me.” The boy looked at his father sadly. “I don’t want to end up empty, I don’t want to wonder what I could have been.”
“You step out that door and don’t bother to come back!”
His breath was coming in ragged gasps. He had to get through to him. He tossed the letter in the boy’s lap and cradled the rifle in his hands. He held it up to the boy, the long barrel glinting by the lamplight.
“This is all you can count on, son. Your gun to protect you, your family to watch your back.”
“Well that’s just great, Dad!” The boy clutched the letter in his hand. He stood up. “Thanks for helping me make up my mind. I’m going, and you can’t stop me.“
The man watched as his son finished packing, put the bag on his shoulder and stalked away, without a backward look. He took the rag in his hand and absently continued stroking the gun barrel. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest or the hole that had opened in his heart. He still had his work... the endless hunt, the pleasure of killing. It would have to do.
***
Read Part II of the John Winchester Chronicles, Betrayed, here.
The John Winchester Chronicles
Abandoned
By Woman of Letters
John Winchester picked up the letter lying half-hidden among some books on the small coffee table. The letterhead read “Stanford University” in slim, tall white lettering across a burnt red background.
“What is this?” he asked harshly, glaring at the boy sitting across the motel room, on the bed. “Are you starting this nonsense again?”
“Dad, please,” his son pleaded, brushing his curly bangs out of his eyes. “It’s not nonsense. I was accepted on a full scholarship...”
John stared impassively at the young boy, taller than his older son and already showing the same fire that he himself had at his age. He could remember arguing with his own father, but he shoved the thought aside. This was not about him.
“I can’t believe you’d do this,” he said, but his son cut him off.
“Can’t believe I’d do what? Go my own way?” The boy snorted, shaking his long, wavy hair out of his eyes. “Not want to keep running after monsters?”
The boy began putting some clothes into a duffel.
“The acceptance letter came today, Dad. I’m going, and nothing you can say will change my mind.”
“But your mother... “ The man gripped his rifle, that he had been polishing in the low light of the motel room. “You know what this thing did to her...”
“And so what if we find this thing?” the boy asked. “How many monsters do we have to kill before we stop, Dad? Will any of this bring her back?”
“You don’t understand!” he shouted. “It’s not safe... You’ll never be safe out there. Not on your own.”
“I don’t want this life, Dad. It’s not what Mom would have wanted for me.” The boy looked at his father sadly. “I don’t want to end up empty, I don’t want to wonder what I could have been.”
“You step out that door and don’t bother to come back!”
His breath was coming in ragged gasps. He had to get through to him. He tossed the letter in the boy’s lap and cradled the rifle in his hands. He held it up to the boy, the long barrel glinting by the lamplight.
“This is all you can count on, son. Your gun to protect you, your family to watch your back.”
“Well that’s just great, Dad!” The boy clutched the letter in his hand. He stood up. “Thanks for helping me make up my mind. I’m going, and you can’t stop me.“
The man watched as his son finished packing, put the bag on his shoulder and stalked away, without a backward look. He took the rag in his hand and absently continued stroking the gun barrel. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest or the hole that had opened in his heart. He still had his work... the endless hunt, the pleasure of killing. It would have to do.
***
Read Part II of the John Winchester Chronicles, Betrayed, here.