On Our Own, 5/11, PG-13, Gen, AU
And so we twist the tale...
Story is completely finished save for the epilogue, which...I'm still trying to determine which one I want. We'll have to see.
Title: On Our Own
Chapter: 5 of 11
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through the end of season 5, though especially for 5x04.
Disclaimer: None of this is mine.
Summary: AU. When Sam is fifteen, his dad makes a decision based on a dark future he was apparently shown by an 'angel': split his sons up and abandon his youngest to keep that future at bay. Dean refuses to let it happen, but if they want to stay together, there's only one option: run.
Wordcount: This chapter, 2,359.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11A
Part 11B
Epilogue (to come!)
“We can't keep running.”
Sam was completely surprised when it was Dean who initiated the discussion. His older brother wasn't even halfway through his first slice of pizza, yet he was starting the conversation.
“No, we can't,” Sam agreed, setting his own slice down. For some unknown reason, Dean had apparently been 'craving' a meat lover's, though Sam was pretty certain it had more to do with seeing Sam bleed than a real want of four types of processed red meat. In Dean's mind, “meat” equaled more blood. Trying to explain to him the biology wasn't going to get them anywhere, so Sam simply ate the pizza and whatever else Dean chose to throw at him whenever Sam got hurt.
“It's not like we can take a stand, though, Dean. Dad...” Sam swallowed and shut his eyes tight for a minute. “Dad's not going to listen to us.”
“So we stay one step ahead of him,” Dean said firmly.
“That means running, Dean.”
“For a little bit,” Dean insisted. “Only for a little bit.”
“Okay,” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “You've obviously got some sort of an idea. Spill.”
Dean hesitated all of five seconds before he started. “Okay. We run, but we do it smart. We keep going west, hit the ocean. Head down the coast until we hit the border, then shoot east. We find a place in Texas, we stop. It's a big state, easy to hide in. We stay there for a few months, and then if we don't hear whispers of Dad, we stay longer. We get your high school finished up, then we...” He shrugged. “We go wherever. You get into college, we'll go there.”
Sam stared for so long Dean started shifting uneasily in his seat, but he couldn't help it. Everything Sam had wanted, right there for the taking: high school, college, and managing to keep his brother by his side while he did it. What had been a run for survival was now becoming something like their dreams. They hadn't left for this, but now that the ideas were in Sam's head, it was going to be hard to remove them.
“What?” Dean finally said when he couldn't take the staring anymore. “Something on my face?”
“Yeah, your face,” Sam responded without any thought. Dean rolled his eyes, prompting a small smile from Sam. He couldn't help but add, “You think I should go to college?” because he was only fifteen. It was still over three years away. Not that he hadn't thought about it, but still.
“Sammy, I know you're already thinking about it,” Dean said. That answered one question. “And...yeah,” he finally said, but it wasn't said with reluctance. More of a hesitation to really confirm his answer. “Yeah, Sammy. I think you should go.”
“With you tagging along to look at the hot college girls,” Sam said, and Dean's eyebrows waggled.
“Duh. And now that we've talked about my awesome ideas, let's hear yours,” Dean said, waving his hand with a 'step forward' gesture. “I know you've got one. And eat your pizza already.”
Sam took a bite of the pizza, gave his brother a look, then spoke. “We go west, but only until we get out of the Dakotas. Then we go south, through Vegas. You were always really good at poker and blackjack, we could make some easy cash. Then we go east. I'll be sixteen next month, which means I can take the GED in most states. I know I can take it in Florida. After that, we can move randomly up the coast, maybe find somewhere that's isolated near the ocean. Maybe even just stay in Florida. After what we've seen, I don't think gators and huge bugs would scare us.”
It was Dean's turn to stare. “You hate Florida,” he said. “You hate the humidity and you hate the state in general.”
“I'm sure there's places that aren't all that bad,” Sam protested, his face hot. Okay, he loathed Florida, whereas Dean could happily stay in the state for years at a time. But he'd thought he'd kept at least that dislike to himself.
Dean shook his head, but there was a smile on his face. “Didn't think you loved the sea breeze all that much either,” he said, and there was a knowing grin on the smug jerk's face. No, it wasn't Sam that loved the ocean, that took every chance to swim that he could, that loved walking in the sand and listening to the roar of the waves more than he liked watching the skimpily clad women.
“It's the ocean,” Sam said lamely, but they both knew the truth.
The grin fell away to something fond and way more open than Dean usually was, something that spoke about how much he really loved Sam. Not that Sam had ever needed the words, but still, to see it all laid out, it was humbling and honoring at the same time.
“Besides, you're not taking the GED,” Dean said a moment later, breaking the moment. “You're graduating.”
Sam blinked. “Dean, that's another what, three years? No way. We don't have that type of time. I'm way more useful to you with a GED. Places would hire me for a quick work hand if I had a GED.”
“I said no, Sammy,” Dean said, more firmly this time. “You're gonna graduate.”
“You didn't,” Sam said, giving Dean a look. God, he was only trying to help, and a GED would be helpful. Besides which... “It was good enough for you; why can't it be good enough for me?”
“Because I hated school,” Dean told him. “I barely tolerated it. You actually like it. And...And I want better for you, all right? I want to see you walk across that stage.”
That...Sam hadn't been expecting. “Oh,” was all he could manage. It was such a Dean thing to do, though. To want Sam's dreams as much as Sam did. To honestly want something good for him.
Dean snorted. “Yeah, oh. You can do it. I'll make it happen.”
“That's three years off, Dean,” Sam said, finally breaking himself from his reverie. “What about now? Dad's gonna figure out we didn't go east. If we keep leading him west, he'll corner us. We'll run out of land.”
“Yeah, but Dad could be expecting us to go back east, make another turn around,” Dean said just as easily. “We have to go west.”
“Then south,” Sam said. “Cut through Vegas.”
“You got some sort of gambling habit I should know about, kiddo?”
Sam couldn't help the grin, even as he kept going. “Then...maybe stop in Texas. Maybe he'll expect us to keep running and go right past us.”
Dean finished off his slice before responding. “I think that might work,” he said. “Remember the last time we were in Texas? I worked over at that carpenter's shop?”
“We can't go back to anywhere we've been,” Sam said reluctantly. Dean had actually enjoyed staying there, and it'd been Dean who'd been the more upset of the brothers when they'd had to leave.
“Oh, I know that,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. “But the guy who ran the place mentioned knowing a couple people in the state, places he'd recommend me to. It'd be easy to settle down in Texas.”
And Texas was one of the other states that let you take the GED at 16, a point that he shared with Dean. Dean frowned at him but shook his head. “As a last resort,” Sam insisted. “Just in case.”
“Not gonna happen,” Dean said firmly. “My baby brother's gonna graduate.”
Sam rolled his eyes but said nothing. A contemplative silence fell on the room. Sam remembered that he still had a slice of pizza to eat and munched on it, mainly as something to do. Mindful of his now bandaged hand, he finished the slice, crust and all, before he looked back up at Dean. Dean was sipping at his soda, eyes locked on the opposite side of the room at nothing at all.
Sam cleared his throat before speaking. “So...west?”
Dean slowly nodded. “Then south,” he added, turning his gaze back to Sam. “Then to Texas. And if that doesn't work-”
“We'll figure something else out,” Sam said. “Lots of other places we could go.”
“Together,” Dean said. “We'll go together.”
Sam couldn't help the smile at Dean's firm conviction. “Thank you,” he said softly. For leaving with me, for me. For planning out a settled down future just to keep us together. For insisting that we stay together.
Dean just winked and sipped his soda. “If we're done battle planning, I've got some pool to play,” he said. “Ready?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, I'm ready.” Ready for anything, as long as his big brother was there.
It was almost six hundred dollars richer that they returned to the motel to pack up their bags. The manager had been apologetic to a fault about the shelf and had insisted they stay another night, free of charge. Dean hadn't said no, and Sam was looking forward to sleeping on a flat surface again.
Of course, they'd still needed money for other things, including a new first aid kit, so off they'd gone to the other side of the small town. The bar had been smoky, full of rowdy conversations and loud, awful country music. Usually, it was Dad and Dean who went to the bars and earned the cash, but...well. It was just Sam and Dean. Dean had explained the setup to Sam on the way over, and Sam hadn't imagined it being too hard. He'd been skeptical of it working, sure, but Dean had been confident, and Sam had headed in with him.
It had worked, and like a charm. Dean had acted the faithful tutor, showing Sam how to play pool. Sam hadn't been as tall or long for it as Dean was, but for a first timer, he hadn't been all that bad. Plus, he'd had a hurt hand and a bulky bandage to deal with. Taking that into consideration, he'd done really well. They'd attracted a small crowd, mostly of people also giving Sam pointers. Dean had challenged some of those other people giving pointers to a game, just him and them. They'd played, Dean had steadily gotten 'better' until finally, he'd won.
Sam had then jumped in to play the dutiful dewy-eyed sibling in order to calm tempers. He'd told Dean how great he was and what lucky shots they'd been and one day, would Dean teach him how to play like him? They'd headed out with their winnings, not a single punch thrown.
“You and those puppy-eyes,” Dean grumbled, shoving the cash in his pocket and reaching for the room key.
“The guy was going to deck you, Dean,” Sam insisted. “We haven't bought another first aid kit yet. Besides, you were pretty good.”
Dean glanced over as they walked to the room, lips turning up at the praise. “Not too bad yourself, considering it was the first time you really played,” he admitted. “When you get taller, it'll get easier.”
“If I get taller,” Sam muttered. At this point, he figured he'd be five-three and a half forever. Dean snickered and wrapped his arm around the kid's shoulders, hauling him in.
“You're only fifteen once, Sammy. Once you get almost as tall as me, you won't be able to pull off those puppy eyes anymore.”
“Oh, I'm gonna be taller than you,” Sam insisted.
“Is that a fact?”
“Yep. Gonna tower over you and pat you on the head when you get old.”
Dean actually cracked up at that, digging in his pocket for the room key. Sam's own lips turned up into a wide grin. This whole Dean and him thing? Only them? Heading to college with Dean by his side would be fun. Just the two of them.
The door popped open with a sturdy turn of the key, Dean still laughing. “In your dreams, kid,” he said. “There's no way you're gonna wind up taller than me. I'm not letting it happen.”
“Dean.”
The voice came from the back of the room, and instantly everything changed. Dean's laughter disappeared only to be replaced with his gun aimed into the room and Sam behind him. Even before Sam could turn for the door, it swung shut, and the definite click of the lock had never sounded so loud.
It was complete and utter darkness. Sam immediately began reaching for where Dean had been, only to find a desperately searching hand find him and haul him in. The smell of whiskey, smoke, and gun oil was all Sam needed to know that it was Dean who had him.
That and the familiar voice above him who yelled, “Who the fuck are you?” into the darkness.
“I mean you and your brother no harm,” the voice said again. It was male, and it sounded like it was used to being obeyed. Firm and calm, and nothing should be that calm when they were in a dark room with a gun pointed at them.
Dean's hand tightened around Sam. “That's why you locked us in and kept the lights out?”
“No,” the voice said, still infuriatingly calm. “I did that in order to speak with you both. The lock, I mean. The lights can be rectified.”
One of the lamps near the television clicked on, and Sam had to blink away the brightness. When his eyes could focus, they immediately latched onto the man standing at the opposite end of the room. Taller than Sam, around Dean's height, he didn't look as authoritative or as calm as Sam would've thought. He looked like Columbo who'd been on a bender.
But when he spoke, his voice still held power. His words also packed a hell of a punch, leaving Sam to stare and Dean to almost drop his gun.
“My name is Castiel,” the man said, “and I am an angel of the Lord.”
A/N: Dun dun dun....
Part 6
~Nebula
Story is completely finished save for the epilogue, which...I'm still trying to determine which one I want. We'll have to see.
Title: On Our Own
Chapter: 5 of 11
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through the end of season 5, though especially for 5x04.
Disclaimer: None of this is mine.
Summary: AU. When Sam is fifteen, his dad makes a decision based on a dark future he was apparently shown by an 'angel': split his sons up and abandon his youngest to keep that future at bay. Dean refuses to let it happen, but if they want to stay together, there's only one option: run.
Wordcount: This chapter, 2,359.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11A
Part 11B
Epilogue (to come!)
“We can't keep running.”
Sam was completely surprised when it was Dean who initiated the discussion. His older brother wasn't even halfway through his first slice of pizza, yet he was starting the conversation.
“No, we can't,” Sam agreed, setting his own slice down. For some unknown reason, Dean had apparently been 'craving' a meat lover's, though Sam was pretty certain it had more to do with seeing Sam bleed than a real want of four types of processed red meat. In Dean's mind, “meat” equaled more blood. Trying to explain to him the biology wasn't going to get them anywhere, so Sam simply ate the pizza and whatever else Dean chose to throw at him whenever Sam got hurt.
“It's not like we can take a stand, though, Dean. Dad...” Sam swallowed and shut his eyes tight for a minute. “Dad's not going to listen to us.”
“So we stay one step ahead of him,” Dean said firmly.
“That means running, Dean.”
“For a little bit,” Dean insisted. “Only for a little bit.”
“Okay,” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “You've obviously got some sort of an idea. Spill.”
Dean hesitated all of five seconds before he started. “Okay. We run, but we do it smart. We keep going west, hit the ocean. Head down the coast until we hit the border, then shoot east. We find a place in Texas, we stop. It's a big state, easy to hide in. We stay there for a few months, and then if we don't hear whispers of Dad, we stay longer. We get your high school finished up, then we...” He shrugged. “We go wherever. You get into college, we'll go there.”
Sam stared for so long Dean started shifting uneasily in his seat, but he couldn't help it. Everything Sam had wanted, right there for the taking: high school, college, and managing to keep his brother by his side while he did it. What had been a run for survival was now becoming something like their dreams. They hadn't left for this, but now that the ideas were in Sam's head, it was going to be hard to remove them.
“What?” Dean finally said when he couldn't take the staring anymore. “Something on my face?”
“Yeah, your face,” Sam responded without any thought. Dean rolled his eyes, prompting a small smile from Sam. He couldn't help but add, “You think I should go to college?” because he was only fifteen. It was still over three years away. Not that he hadn't thought about it, but still.
“Sammy, I know you're already thinking about it,” Dean said. That answered one question. “And...yeah,” he finally said, but it wasn't said with reluctance. More of a hesitation to really confirm his answer. “Yeah, Sammy. I think you should go.”
“With you tagging along to look at the hot college girls,” Sam said, and Dean's eyebrows waggled.
“Duh. And now that we've talked about my awesome ideas, let's hear yours,” Dean said, waving his hand with a 'step forward' gesture. “I know you've got one. And eat your pizza already.”
Sam took a bite of the pizza, gave his brother a look, then spoke. “We go west, but only until we get out of the Dakotas. Then we go south, through Vegas. You were always really good at poker and blackjack, we could make some easy cash. Then we go east. I'll be sixteen next month, which means I can take the GED in most states. I know I can take it in Florida. After that, we can move randomly up the coast, maybe find somewhere that's isolated near the ocean. Maybe even just stay in Florida. After what we've seen, I don't think gators and huge bugs would scare us.”
It was Dean's turn to stare. “You hate Florida,” he said. “You hate the humidity and you hate the state in general.”
“I'm sure there's places that aren't all that bad,” Sam protested, his face hot. Okay, he loathed Florida, whereas Dean could happily stay in the state for years at a time. But he'd thought he'd kept at least that dislike to himself.
Dean shook his head, but there was a smile on his face. “Didn't think you loved the sea breeze all that much either,” he said, and there was a knowing grin on the smug jerk's face. No, it wasn't Sam that loved the ocean, that took every chance to swim that he could, that loved walking in the sand and listening to the roar of the waves more than he liked watching the skimpily clad women.
“It's the ocean,” Sam said lamely, but they both knew the truth.
The grin fell away to something fond and way more open than Dean usually was, something that spoke about how much he really loved Sam. Not that Sam had ever needed the words, but still, to see it all laid out, it was humbling and honoring at the same time.
“Besides, you're not taking the GED,” Dean said a moment later, breaking the moment. “You're graduating.”
Sam blinked. “Dean, that's another what, three years? No way. We don't have that type of time. I'm way more useful to you with a GED. Places would hire me for a quick work hand if I had a GED.”
“I said no, Sammy,” Dean said, more firmly this time. “You're gonna graduate.”
“You didn't,” Sam said, giving Dean a look. God, he was only trying to help, and a GED would be helpful. Besides which... “It was good enough for you; why can't it be good enough for me?”
“Because I hated school,” Dean told him. “I barely tolerated it. You actually like it. And...And I want better for you, all right? I want to see you walk across that stage.”
That...Sam hadn't been expecting. “Oh,” was all he could manage. It was such a Dean thing to do, though. To want Sam's dreams as much as Sam did. To honestly want something good for him.
Dean snorted. “Yeah, oh. You can do it. I'll make it happen.”
“That's three years off, Dean,” Sam said, finally breaking himself from his reverie. “What about now? Dad's gonna figure out we didn't go east. If we keep leading him west, he'll corner us. We'll run out of land.”
“Yeah, but Dad could be expecting us to go back east, make another turn around,” Dean said just as easily. “We have to go west.”
“Then south,” Sam said. “Cut through Vegas.”
“You got some sort of gambling habit I should know about, kiddo?”
Sam couldn't help the grin, even as he kept going. “Then...maybe stop in Texas. Maybe he'll expect us to keep running and go right past us.”
Dean finished off his slice before responding. “I think that might work,” he said. “Remember the last time we were in Texas? I worked over at that carpenter's shop?”
“We can't go back to anywhere we've been,” Sam said reluctantly. Dean had actually enjoyed staying there, and it'd been Dean who'd been the more upset of the brothers when they'd had to leave.
“Oh, I know that,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. “But the guy who ran the place mentioned knowing a couple people in the state, places he'd recommend me to. It'd be easy to settle down in Texas.”
And Texas was one of the other states that let you take the GED at 16, a point that he shared with Dean. Dean frowned at him but shook his head. “As a last resort,” Sam insisted. “Just in case.”
“Not gonna happen,” Dean said firmly. “My baby brother's gonna graduate.”
Sam rolled his eyes but said nothing. A contemplative silence fell on the room. Sam remembered that he still had a slice of pizza to eat and munched on it, mainly as something to do. Mindful of his now bandaged hand, he finished the slice, crust and all, before he looked back up at Dean. Dean was sipping at his soda, eyes locked on the opposite side of the room at nothing at all.
Sam cleared his throat before speaking. “So...west?”
Dean slowly nodded. “Then south,” he added, turning his gaze back to Sam. “Then to Texas. And if that doesn't work-”
“We'll figure something else out,” Sam said. “Lots of other places we could go.”
“Together,” Dean said. “We'll go together.”
Sam couldn't help the smile at Dean's firm conviction. “Thank you,” he said softly. For leaving with me, for me. For planning out a settled down future just to keep us together. For insisting that we stay together.
Dean just winked and sipped his soda. “If we're done battle planning, I've got some pool to play,” he said. “Ready?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, I'm ready.” Ready for anything, as long as his big brother was there.
It was almost six hundred dollars richer that they returned to the motel to pack up their bags. The manager had been apologetic to a fault about the shelf and had insisted they stay another night, free of charge. Dean hadn't said no, and Sam was looking forward to sleeping on a flat surface again.
Of course, they'd still needed money for other things, including a new first aid kit, so off they'd gone to the other side of the small town. The bar had been smoky, full of rowdy conversations and loud, awful country music. Usually, it was Dad and Dean who went to the bars and earned the cash, but...well. It was just Sam and Dean. Dean had explained the setup to Sam on the way over, and Sam hadn't imagined it being too hard. He'd been skeptical of it working, sure, but Dean had been confident, and Sam had headed in with him.
It had worked, and like a charm. Dean had acted the faithful tutor, showing Sam how to play pool. Sam hadn't been as tall or long for it as Dean was, but for a first timer, he hadn't been all that bad. Plus, he'd had a hurt hand and a bulky bandage to deal with. Taking that into consideration, he'd done really well. They'd attracted a small crowd, mostly of people also giving Sam pointers. Dean had challenged some of those other people giving pointers to a game, just him and them. They'd played, Dean had steadily gotten 'better' until finally, he'd won.
Sam had then jumped in to play the dutiful dewy-eyed sibling in order to calm tempers. He'd told Dean how great he was and what lucky shots they'd been and one day, would Dean teach him how to play like him? They'd headed out with their winnings, not a single punch thrown.
“You and those puppy-eyes,” Dean grumbled, shoving the cash in his pocket and reaching for the room key.
“The guy was going to deck you, Dean,” Sam insisted. “We haven't bought another first aid kit yet. Besides, you were pretty good.”
Dean glanced over as they walked to the room, lips turning up at the praise. “Not too bad yourself, considering it was the first time you really played,” he admitted. “When you get taller, it'll get easier.”
“If I get taller,” Sam muttered. At this point, he figured he'd be five-three and a half forever. Dean snickered and wrapped his arm around the kid's shoulders, hauling him in.
“You're only fifteen once, Sammy. Once you get almost as tall as me, you won't be able to pull off those puppy eyes anymore.”
“Oh, I'm gonna be taller than you,” Sam insisted.
“Is that a fact?”
“Yep. Gonna tower over you and pat you on the head when you get old.”
Dean actually cracked up at that, digging in his pocket for the room key. Sam's own lips turned up into a wide grin. This whole Dean and him thing? Only them? Heading to college with Dean by his side would be fun. Just the two of them.
The door popped open with a sturdy turn of the key, Dean still laughing. “In your dreams, kid,” he said. “There's no way you're gonna wind up taller than me. I'm not letting it happen.”
“Dean.”
The voice came from the back of the room, and instantly everything changed. Dean's laughter disappeared only to be replaced with his gun aimed into the room and Sam behind him. Even before Sam could turn for the door, it swung shut, and the definite click of the lock had never sounded so loud.
It was complete and utter darkness. Sam immediately began reaching for where Dean had been, only to find a desperately searching hand find him and haul him in. The smell of whiskey, smoke, and gun oil was all Sam needed to know that it was Dean who had him.
That and the familiar voice above him who yelled, “Who the fuck are you?” into the darkness.
“I mean you and your brother no harm,” the voice said again. It was male, and it sounded like it was used to being obeyed. Firm and calm, and nothing should be that calm when they were in a dark room with a gun pointed at them.
Dean's hand tightened around Sam. “That's why you locked us in and kept the lights out?”
“No,” the voice said, still infuriatingly calm. “I did that in order to speak with you both. The lock, I mean. The lights can be rectified.”
One of the lamps near the television clicked on, and Sam had to blink away the brightness. When his eyes could focus, they immediately latched onto the man standing at the opposite end of the room. Taller than Sam, around Dean's height, he didn't look as authoritative or as calm as Sam would've thought. He looked like Columbo who'd been on a bender.
But when he spoke, his voice still held power. His words also packed a hell of a punch, leaving Sam to stare and Dean to almost drop his gun.
“My name is Castiel,” the man said, “and I am an angel of the Lord.”
A/N: Dun dun dun....
Part 6
~Nebula