Non-Debatable

Mar 18, 2016 22:10

Title: Non-Debatable
Author: borgmama1of5
Genre: teenchesters
Wordcount: 1900
Rating: PG
Beta: sandymg Any errors are from my messing around after she worked her magic…
Disclaimer: They have to be used to being borrowed by now…
Summary: Another hurried departure leaves Sam with unfinished business…
Prompt: from moondropz:
Sam: I wouldn't do this without my brother. He has my back (Season 11 Into the Mystic)


Non-Debatable

John strode into the motel room in full Marine C.O. mode.

"Pack up, boys, we're leaving in the morning."

"Dad, no!"  Sam knew immediately the involuntary whine in his voice was going to set his dad off, and tried to explain before John reacted.

"Tomorrow is the Tri-County Debate Finals and I'm the captain of our team--we've worked for six weeks and beat three other schools and I have to be there! I can't let the team down, Dad!"

"I've got a lead on a case in Mineral Wells, Texas, that's gonna take more than a day or two and I'm gonna need you for research."

"But, Dad--"

"I'm not gonna get into it with you, Sam. You know what we do and why we do it. This debate thing will have to go on without you, so pack up."

Sam had to give it one more try, even though he knew from experience that it was futile.

"What if you let me and Dean stay till the debate competition is over, we could leave right after, I wouldn't even need to finish out the rest of the day. We'd just be a little behind you, and I could do some of the researching on the road..."

"Enough, Sam. This is not open to discussion." John's raised voice told Sam he'd lost again. It wasn't fair, not just for him, he was going to let the whole team down. He was the best debater on the team, Ms. Binsfeld had told him he was the best student at logical arguments she'd ever had.

So why couldn't he ever win an argument with Dad?

"But..."

Dean was shaking his head at Sam from across the room, with the pinched twist to his lips that said 'leave it alone, Sam.' Which wasn't right--Dean knew how much this meant to Sam, he'd been listening to Sam practice his arguments on the different topics for the whole seven weeks they'd been in Enola.

Since Dad hadn't moved them out immediately when he'd done the salt-and-burn in the local cemetery, Sam'd fooled himself that he could finish one semester in one place, and he'd let himself get involved with the debate team.

He should have known better.

He angrily grabbed his shirts from the closet and stuffed them in his duffel, then immediately took them out and folded them properly.

Dean, of course, wasn't bothered at all. "What’s the case, Dad?”

“Haunted hotel. The eyewitness reports describe three different ghosts, though. Gonna be a bitch to search through the town records. Four people have died there over the last three years, the last two just a month apart. Seems to be accelerating. The history of the place indicates there’ve been more deaths in the past.”

Dean waited till John had popped open a beer, then made his pitch. “I can be packed in five minutes, Dad. Okay if I go out for a bit?"

John's look indicated Dean needed to explain further, which, of course, his brother did without hesitation.

Although, he did smirk. "I've got to say good-bye to someone."

"You'll be back by midnight."

"Yessir."

Dean was going to have one last make-out session...or more...with the girl he'd met at the convenience store. There'd been way too many jokes about her being a 24/7 kinda gal. But if Dean got to see his 'friend' one more time, Sam should, too.

"Can Dean drop me off at Carl's house? I could try and help him prepare to take over since you're making me drop out of the debate." As soon as the words left his mouth Sam knew he'd blown it.

"No. You can start researching tonight."

"Dad! That's not fair! How come Dean gets to go make out with some girl while I have to stay here and research? If I have to, he should too!"

Dean reached over and cuffed Sam lightly on the head. “Chill, Sammy. We got a job to do, and we’re the only ones who can do it. Suck it up and hit the books.”

“Screw you, Dean,” Sam muttered under his breath as he slapped Dean’s hand away. “I hate you.”

Dean snaked his arm around Sam’s side and deftly upended Sam’s duffel, dumping everything Sam had just folded and packed into a pile on the floor.

“Looks like you got some packing to do,” Dean shot back as he opened the motel room door.

The squeal of the Impala’s tires as Dean peeled away felt like salt in a wound.

Sam deliberately took his time repacking his bag, waiting for his dad to tell him get a move on and start on research, but John had opened his journal along with another beer and was oblivious to Sam's resentful glares. When he was finished, Sam planted himself on his half of the bed with a book and mentally dared his dad to say something, but John continued flipping through pages until he abruptly stood up and announced, “Going out,” to the room at large, grabbed his jacket and his truck keys, and disappeared.

Without his father there to absorb Sam’s anger, it dissipated, and Sam’s thoughts spiraled into misery as he thought of how the team and Ms. Binsfeld would react when he didn’t show up tomorrow. There won’t even be a call to let anyone know…Sam gazed at the room phone, thought of making a call, but who would he call and what would he say? My dad decided tonight that we’re driving to Texas tomorrow for a job so he’s pulling me out of school again? He didn’t want to parade just how messed up his family was…

Realizing he wasn’t going to actually read the book he was holding, Sam gave up and got ready for bed. It’d be at least an hour till Dean got home, and who knew when Dad would come back.

Once he was under the threadbare blanket, though, Sam couldn’t sleep as the ‘greatest failures of Sam Winchester’s life’ paraded on repeat through his head. Funny how they all revolved around leaving someplace he wanted to be, people he wanted to be with.

Yes, he was feeling sorry for himself. And yes, there were kids who had it worse than he did. But it was his misery, and it wrapped itself tight around him. When the motel door opened, Sam wiped hurriedly at the wet streaks on his cheeks as the sound of Dean navigating the room pushed away the silence.

“You awake, Sammy?”

Sam could smell something flowery drifting from Dean, could tell his brother was standing between the two beds, but Sam remained still, knowing Dean could tell Sam wasn’t asleep but that he wouldn’t ask again. Instead of coming to bed, though, Dean remained staring at Sam’s back for several minutes, then for some reason, went back outside.

When Dean came in again, Sam was legitimately almost asleep.

~~~
A whack across his shoulders startled Sam awake and he wondered for a confused moment why his alarm hadn't gone off, then remembered he hadn't bothered to set it since he wasn't going to school today. A second thump had him heatedly muttering, "I'm awake!"

"Dad wants to leave ASAP. Move it!"

Sam wanted to refuse, wanted to dig in his heels and say, no, he wasn't going...but it was pointless and he knew it, so he simply glared at Dean as he sat up.

"Here." Dean tossed a shirt in Sam's direction. "You need a shower. I don't want to be smelling you all day in the car."

"Since when are you the hygiene police?" Sam muttered, but he plodded listlessly to the bathroom and rinsed down quickly in the lukewarm water. Dean had thrown Sam one of his school button-downs instead of a flannel, which was stupid to wear in the car all day, but it wasn't worth the effort to pull out a different shirt.

Dad was putting the last of his notes in his bag and Sam grabbed the last handful of cereal from the box that’d been left by the tv just as Dean came back inside from taking his duffel to the car.

Sam could tell something was wrong from the look on Dean's face.

"Dad..." Dean rubbed a hand across his face, a sign that their dad was not going to like what Dean had to say.

John didn't respond, so Dean straightened his shoulders to deliver the bad news.

"The Impala has a flat."

John stopped packing and looked at Dean but didn't say anything.

Annoyed by the silent stalemate, Sam jumped in. "Do you need me to help you change it?" Not that he wanted to, but since Sam was already screwed, there was no point in dragging out their departure.

Dean flicked his eyes at Sam. "The, uh, spare is...flat, too."

"How did that happen?"

Sam winced at the castigation in their father's voice.

"I, uh..." Dean lifted his chin to take his punishment. "I didn't fix it when I had that flat in Deerfield."

"This is how you're responsible? This is how you care for your equipment? Maybe I handed over those keys too soon." His brother paled but remained expressionless. Dean had certainly messed up. Which was weird, because he usually was obsessive about making sure everything was right with his baby.

"I'm leaving. Fix the tire and I expect you to get to Mineral Wells no more than an hour behind me. And when we get there, you aren't going out for anything other than working the case. Obviously your extra-curricular activities are affecting your ability to keep your mind on the job." His displeasure clear, John turned to Sam.

"Get in the truck."

Dean's eyes darted toward him and Sam knew a twenty-hour ride with his dad would be pure torture. "I'll stay and help Dean. With two of us we can fix it faster."

John didn't answer, just gave Dean one final, judgmental look and left. Dean waited until John's truck could no longer be heard, then swung around to Sam.

"If we move fast, we can change the tire and get you to school before the bus leaves for the debate."

"You said the spare was flat!"

"I knew Dad wouldn't bother checking."

"But..."

"Your khakis are in the drawer. I already loosened the tire, we just have to get her up on the jack."

“What…”

“You wanna make it or not?”

“But how did you get a flat, Dean?” Sam scrambled to the car behind Dean.

“I let the air out last night. Figured that would work for a reason to leave late.”

Dean slid the jack under the Impala’s right side proficiently and Sam handed him the lug wrench to remove the tire.

“The debates are going to take all morning, we’ll be a lot more than an hour behind Dad…”

“Dad’s already pissed at me, so he gets pissier, what’s he gonna do? Go change your pants and let’s get move…Unless you want to debate me some more?”

Too stunned at this sudden change of fate to process, he stuttered, “Uh, n-no, I’ll be right back!”

As Sam hurriedly switched pants, he decided that whatever punishment Dad gave Dean, Sam would do it too, because he had the best big brother.

That was non-debatable.

fanwork: fic, john winchester, dean winchester, teenchester, sam winchester

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