Atticus
Really, “ Dean drawled mockingly. “Really, Sam? You really think these are normal people?”
“They are, Dean! It’s just them and their dad and they live in one place and go to one school and have the same friends all year long. Dad could stay in one place and get a job and we could be normal too.”
“Did their mom burn to death on a ceiling? Is that why they don’t have a mom?”
“Shut up, Dean.”
“Well, is it?”
“It doesn’t say what happened to her. “
“But you’re sure she died in some normal way.”
“Everyone else I know who doesn’t have a mom had their mom die in some normal way.”
“Yeah, so they say,” Dean muttered darkly. “Look, Sam, would you really want this Atticus guy for a dad?”
“I pretty much want anyone but our dad as a dad, but yeah. If I could pick a dad, I’d pick him.”
Dean’s expression went from mad to hurt, but all he said was, “Why?”
“Because he’s smart.”
“Dad’s smart”
“Because he can shoot.”
Dean just cocked an eyebrow at that one.
“And he helps people, Dean. People in trouble. People who can’t help themselves.”
“What exactly do you think Dad does, Sam? Doesn’t he help people in trouble who can’t help themselves? He does, Sam. You know he does!”
“You know what the difference is, Dean? He manages to help people in trouble and be there for his kids at the same time. Our dad’s never here for us. Never.”
“He let his kids get attacked by some whack- job hillbilly with a knife! That was being there for them?”
“When his kids came home hurt he was there. He made sure a doctor came to take care of them and he stayed with them until he knew they were all right.”
“So?”
“So what happened last month when that angry spirit practically ripped your lungs out?”
“Sam.”
“What happened, Dean?”
“I was fine.”
“You weren’t fine, you were bleeding all over the place and Dad left you here to stitch yourself up while he went to salt and burn the bones.”
Dean just shook his head. “He had to do that, Sam.”
“He didn’t have to do it right that second. He could have stayed and taken care of you. Atticus would never have left Jem or Scout after they got hurt.”
“Atticus isn’t real, Sam! Their nice, normal life isn’t real! You want that though? You really want that? Okay, Sam. You can be the normal kid who almost gets stabbed to death while dressed as a ham. ‘Cause what’s more normal than that? I’ll be the normal kid who heroically tries to save his younger sister-that’s definitely you, Sammy. Yeah, I’m starting to see this. I won’t get my arm broken, though. No hick with a knife is going to take me out. No weirdo from down the block is going to save you either. You don’t need anybody looking out for you but me and Dad. Oh, sorry, I mean me and Atticus.”
Dean slammed out the door, shaking his head and Sam just watched him go. He picked up his battered copy of To Kill A Mockingbird from the couch where Dean had tossed it. The book had been assigned reading two schools ago, but Sam had stuffed it into his duffle and made sure he had taken it along when they moved. The story of the country lawyer who worked hard helping people, but was still always there for his children had just resonated with Sam and he had given the book to Dean to read too. Dean couldn’t see it though. See that there were other ways to help people, other ways to live. Sam knew he was smart, knew he had a chance to get out if he played his cards right. And now he knew what he wanted to do after he made his escape. He wanted to help people, have a normal life, and be there for his family. He wanted to be Atticus Finch.