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Sam was gone and Dean was pissed. He’d come back to their place to find Sam’s stuff gone and only a note left on the motel nightstand as any indication of where he’d gone. Dean had read just enough of it to find out that Sam had not been carried off by something that went bump in the night, but instead had willfully taken off because he was still pissed over some stupid fight he’d gone into with their Dad a couple nights earlier.
Dean barely got through this part of the note before crumpling it in his fists and proceeding to slam his fist straight through the weak plaster of the motel’s cheap wallpapered walls. He trashed the room a little bit more, blowing off steam before settling down enough to pick back up the discarded piece of paper and continue reading.
Sam was still pissed about his fight with Dad and had decided to take off and live on his own as he felt that he couldn't be his own person as long as Dad was in the picture. He apologized for having to leave Dean behind (to which Dean rolled his eyes), but confessed he knew Dean would never agree and that if he’d asked Dean would’ve only tried to talk him out of it (No Shit!). He promised he’d be alright and that Dean didn't have to worry (too late) and that this was only for the summer and he’d come back before it was time to head back to school again. Dean wracked his hands through his hair suppressing the urge to trash the room all over again. Focus, he could do this, he thought to himself. Sam had clearly thought this through and put a lot of planning into it. Sam could be especially cautious even in his more reckless decisions. The note implied that this wasn’t a spur of the moment decision so Sam had clearly had been thinking this through for a while. Sam was a smart kid and awfully resourceful when he wanted to be, but he was still fourteen and he only could’ve gotten so far. The thought comforted him as he took a deep breath and rationally thought through the situation.
They’d been in Michigan two months. Long enough for Dad to finish a hunt while they finished the school year at the local high school. Well while Sam finished school, Dean had dropped out midway through first semester senior year figuring he had more important things to worry about than study for tests to impress colleges he wasn't going to be going to anyways. School had been out almost two weeks and Dad had spent the time training them, especially Sam, which would be the origin of the tension between them that would lead to the fight in the first place.
The fight had happened on Thursday and Dad had taken off for the hunt on Friday leaving Dean behind to deal with a thoroughly pissed off Sam as he headed off to hunt vamps in Ohio with Bobby. Pissed that after Sam and Dad had fought and he was once again left to clean up the mess Dean had took off Saturday morning, driving around town to blow off steam. He’d met up with some high school kids who’d told him there was going to be a party at some kid’s lake house later as a post graduation celebration or whatnot. Free beer and cute girls sounded like a nice distraction so when he’d shown back up at the motel with early dinner around four and told Sam he’d be out for the rest day and not to wait up for him. Sam had acted strangely as he took the food from Dean, but he had just brushed it off as him still being pissy about the fight with Dad two nights before (a decision he’d quickly come to regret). He hadn't left the party until much later that night and stayed over at the place of this girl he’d been messing around with for a while. Sunday morning he’d left her place, nursing a banging hangover, picked up some food and arrived at the motel half past 10, and entered an empty room with Sam nowhere to be found. So he could conclude in the 18 hours Dean had been gone, Sam had packed his stuff (not that there was much), written the note and disappeared. His only advantage was that Dad had just recently left on the hunt which meant he had at least to find Sam ( and kick his ass) before he got back. Until it wasn't.
Turns out it wasn't just vampires, but also a pack of werewolves who’d gotten caught in a turf war with them. Dad needed the extra gear and the extra hands. So one can imagine his surprise when he came back to the motel to find it trashed and Sam missing.
And that’s how they’d ended up here. With Dean sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala (Dad had taken his keys after whooping his ass), nursing a week old black eye and split lip thinking about all the things he was gonna do to the kid when they found him. Turns out that the kid was better at covering his tracks than they’d thought (no one could argue that the kid didn't have natural talent when properly motivated). It took them nearly a week to find him, in the end, it’d been the pizza guy who’d busted him, admitting that he Sam knew from school and that he knew another upperclassman, who was on vacation with his family for the month, had rented out their cabin to Sam in exchange for helping him cheat on his finals (turns out Sam had a whole side hustle of doing other kids’ homework for cash), but from there they were able to track down the location of the cabin.
They parked down at the end of the road. Close enough that they could see the lights were on in the cabin but far enough away that Sam probably hadn’t heard them arrive. Dean had unbuckled his seatbelt and made to get out of the car when Dad told him to stay, the stern tone of his voice leaving no room for question, and considering the trouble Dean was already in he was in no place to argue. Still he was mad that he didn't get to go in there and teach Sam a lesson himself. He might still go and give the kid a second black eye after Dad was done with him, the kid more than deserved it after all he’d put him through. Dean looked over at the cabin through the car’s window and realised Dad had been in there for a while. Dean didn’t dare go check them as not to shift any of his dad’s well-directed anger back onto him. He hoped to hell Sam wasn’t arguing and that he’d just shut up and take the beating so they could move on already. He strained his ears to listen for the sounds of yelling, but couldn’t hear anything over the sound of some crazy dog that was barking at the cabin like its life depended on it.
It’d be well over the half hour mark before Dad came out with Sam in toe. The dog rushed toward the two of them, trying to tear at Dad’s ankles the crazy mutt. However a solid kick had it down for the count. Dean took this as a sign that Dad was still angry and made sure to compose himself for what would be a painful ride back to the motel.
When they finally reached the car, Dad all but shoved Sam in the backseat and took off. Once they were on the road Dean attempted to glare at Sam through the rearview mirror, but he wasn't paying attention. The kid’s face was streaked with tears, or at least what he could see of his face which was covered in bruises. Any hopes of giving Sam a second black eye were dashed as he already had a matching set. Dad really went all out, Dean thought to himself, not that the kid didn't deserve it. He stole a glance at his Dad to find his face hard and unreadable. However his knuckles were raw as they gripped the steering wheel in a way that gave away his persisting anger. Dean kept his eyes forward. When checked the rearview mirror once more to look at Sam again. The kid was out or at least pretending to be (his first smart decision all week) and the rest of the ride back was spent in heavy silence.
They finally pulled into the motel parking lot and Dean tried not to seem like he was practically tripping over himself to get out of the car. The second Dad got out his phone started ringing and he took it while Sam and Dean headed inside. Upon closer look, Dean could see that Sam was even worse than he’d thought. Sam was limping awkwardly. One of his arms hung at his side while the other clutched his middle where Dean was sure more bruises were to be found. They got inside and Sam all but collapsed on the bed. Dean went to the fridge to get him an ice pack and when he returned the kid seemed to be slipping into unconsciousness once again.
“Hey you don't get to pass out yet not til I get an explanation,”
Dean grabbed Sam roughly by the arm trying to get him to sit up, and the kid released a strangled cry when his hand came into contact with the arm. A pit sank to the bottom of Dean’s stomach as he as gingerly as possible tugged up the kid’s sleeve. The kid whimpered weakly as Dean stared at the broken bone jutting out awkwardly beneath the skin.
“Did Dad do this to you?” Dean whispered lest he be overheard in the empty room.
Sam just sniffled quietly and looked away, the shame and fear on his face was all the answer Dean needed. Dean cursed to himself and racked his hands through his hair. Sam had messed up big time and had a beating coming no doubt but this was- He was interrupted from his thoughts by the motel door opening and slamming shut the sound causing both boys to stiffen. John walked over to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and sat down heavily at the motel table. Dean hoped this was a sign that his Dad’s anger had declined as he forced himself to relax and approached the table carefully.
“I should probably take Sam to get his arm checked out.” He tried to say as nonchalantly as possible.
The look his father gave him made Dean stiffen once more under the hard gaze but he forced himself to continue.
“His arm is broken. He’ll need a cast and it’ll probably draw less suspicion if-if I went with him,” he mentally kicked himself for the way his voice tapered off at the end as his resolve cracked under his father’s gaze.
John looked over at his younger son’s limp form on the bed and then up at his eldest’s bruised face and fearful eyes before finally down at his own raw knuckles. Something soft and scared flashed through John’s eyes as it seemed to dawn on him the extent of what he had done. He set the keys down on the table and went to the bathroom without another word. He was still in there as Dean picked up the keys, half-carried his younger brother to the car, and took off.
~*~
"Can you describe the person who attacked you?” asked the Sheriff.
They’d stayed at the hospital overnight as Dean hadn't wanted to risk moving Sam while his arm set in the cast. However after taking a look at Sam’s injuries the doctor had called the sheriff’s office who’d shown up first thing in the morning before they’d had an opportunity to sneak out.
The Sheriff was a large gruff man who ironically reminded Dean of their Dad. There were only so many explanations for the state Sam was in so Dean went with the obvious one and said he’d been jumped.
“It was dark out we couldn't see a thing,” Dean replied smoothly
“So lemme get this straight you found your brother getting beat up outside the library, you rush over, and the guy runs off? Did I get that right?” incredulity was apparent in the Sheriff’s voice.
The Sheriff turned to Sam.
“And you’re sure you didn't get a good look at the guy who jumped you?”
Sam shook his head simply. The kid had yet to say a word since they’d left the motel.
“Why don’t you come down to the station when you’re feeling a bit better and we can see if we can jog your memory?”
“It’s really no big deal, Sheriff, I think we’ll be fine,” Dean said quickly.
“Your brother getting beat up by some stranger is no big deal?”
“What I mean to say,” Dean clarified, “is our Dad gets back today and we’ll be moving on soon so it's just not really worth the trouble.”
Dean did his best not to wilt under the Sheriff’s gaze. That was the thing if this had been anyone or anything else that had done this to his brother he’d be out teaching them a lesson not sitting here trying to placate the sheriff so that he'd leave them alone long enough that they could skip out of the hospital.
“And where’d you say your Dad was?”
“He’s on a work trip has been all week,”
“Uhuh,” said the Sheriff unconvinced.
The sheriff stared at the week-old bruise on Dean’s face which seemed to be lessening the effects of Dean’s typically reassuring smile.
“This is just from roughhousing with some friends,” Dean said, answering the implied question behind the stare.
The Sheriff sighed for a moment before continuing.
“Look boys,” he said carefully, “if you’re in trouble I can only help if you know how to ask for it-” he raised his hand to silence Dean before he could interrupt, “whether it be trouble at home or anything else like that there are people who can help you if know how to reach out for it,”
He looked over at Sam for the last part, but Sam’s gaze remained steadily fixed on his hands.
“We appreciate the sentiment, Sheriff,” Dean spoke up when it was clear Sam wasn't going too, “but we're good, really.”
“Alright then,” he stood up to leave, “here’s my number if you boys ever need anything feel free to give me a call.”
He handed the card to Dean before pulling out another one and handing one to Sam too, who reached out and grasped it in his uncasted hand. Without any further ado, the Sheriff tipped his hat and left the room.
Dean sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair. It wasn't like this was the first time they’d gotten the “problems at home” talk, but it was the first time their dad was actually the one who did it, at least to the extent of landing them in the hospital. Dean looked over at his brother who was thumbing the card over with his good hand. He opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again. Technically their Dad was supposed to be the one to sign Sam out, but Dean knew the Sheriff would be all over him the second their Dad stepped foot in this room, and frankly, it’d been a difficult enough week as it was. Instead, Dean tossed Sam the bag with his clothes in them and told him to change before taking a place by the door to make sure no one was coming.
They managed to slip out of the hospital unnoticed. Sam sat down heavily in the passenger seat of the car, clutching his ribs and wincing. Bruised ribs, the doctor had informed. He’d said they should heal with time, but to just take it easy until then. Dean gave his brother a once over. His face was still a mess of bruises, with more under his shirt that Dean had seen. The left side of his ribs were bandaged. Then there was his right arm which hung limply in a plain white cast as he tried to put on his seatbelt with one hand.
Dean remembered the first time Sam had broken his arm. He’d been ten and they’d been training, climbing trees to build stamina. Sam had fallen 6 feet and the sound his arm made when he hit the floor still rang in Dean’s ears. However, it was nowhere near as deafening as the cry Sam let out when he felt where the bone had snapped in two places. He’d cried as Dad had drove them to the hospital (Sam yet to learn the Winchester modum of bearing pain with a tough face) despite Dean’s shushing and encouragement to be strong, and after the cast was on he’d groaned and huffed and cried the first two days with it on as Dean motherhened him (although he was pretty sure Sam was just milking him for it by the time the week was over).
Dean also remembered the first time Dean had broken his leg. How he’d been 13 and helping Dad with a hunt and had tripped and broken it and how’d tried to be strong but couldn't help the tears that prickled at his eyes because it hurt really bad, but Dad had told him he was proud of him so he toughed it out and pretended like he barely even felt it and after the hospital visit Dad had gotten them chili cheese dogs and taken them to the movies and things had seemed like they were going to be okay.
But now there he was sitting in the driver’s seat and Sam in the passenger cradling his broken arm, not making a sound even though Dean knew it must still hurt because of course it did and Dean was just- he slammed his fist into the window, cracking it slightly.
“Dammit Sam, what the hell were you thinking?” he didn't wait for an answer, “I mean taking off like that like you really just thought you could run away for the summer and everything would just be handy dandy like come on you can't be that stupid. You Dad would be pissed when he found out, and you left me behind to clean up your goddamn mess like things weren't tense enough already because you never think about anybody but your goddamn self. And for what huh? So you could slack off for the summer? You get a kick out of living on your own is that it?”
Sam kept his head down and said nothing.
“Well answer me dammit!” Dean yelled, turning to stare Sam down his gaze hard and angry.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly.
“I want your damn apology. I want an explanation. Why’d you do it?”
Sam was quiet for a while and Dean huffed when he figured Sam wasn’t going to say anything.
“I hate this, Dean,” Sam spoke up finally, “I hate having to go on hunts and training to fight monsters. I hate moving around all the time and having to change schools. And during the last week of school, all the other kids were talking about their summer plans like going on vacation or visiting family or hanging out with friends or even just sitting at home bored and I knew that we were going to spend the summer hunting and training back to back and I just- I just wanted to be normal, at least when I’m my own I can pretend like I’m normal.”
They both sat there in silence for a few moments as the words sank in.
“Yeah well tough shit, Sam,” Dean voice was quiet and harsh, somehow worse than the yelling from before, “We’re not normal and there ain't nothing you can do about that.”
Dean paused for a moment as most of the leftover anger seeped out of him before continuing, “This is our life Sam hunting is our life and you’ve gotta accept that because I can’t do my job, I can’t look after you and manage Dad and god-forbid take a moment to myself every once in a while if I’m scared you’re gonna bolt every time I got my back turned.”
Dean turned to look at his brother and for the first time he looked back. Regretful tears shone down his face and any anger Dean had left dissipated completely.
“I need you to swear to me, Sam,” he said finally, “swear to me that you won't ever pull shit like this ever again.”
For a moment they just stared at each and Dean was afraid he wasn't going to swear, but then his brother nodded tiredly.
“I swear, Dean.”
The tension seemed to ooze out of the vehicle and they both took a breath. Satisfied, Dean started up the car and they drove in silence back to the motel, however, the air was significantly lighter than it had been before.
When they arrived back at the hotel they found their father sober, a state he hadn't been in all week. The boys approached warily nonetheless. Dean set the keys to the Impala down on the table in front of their Dad.
“Keep em,” John said simply, “Pack your stuff were leaving.”
The room was silent as they packed and loaded the stuff in the cars. Dad showed Dean the route they’d been taking on the map while Sam hovered by the car.
“Boys,” John called out as they turned to get in the car. There was an unusual hesitation in his voice and he spoke the next part cautiously, “Are you gonna be alright?”
The question was directed at both of them, but all eyes were on Sam. He picked at his cast awkwardly before looking up and meeting his Dad’s eyes. There was no anger or passive-aggression in his eyes instead a quiet understanding seemed to be reached between them in that moment as he nodded before getting in the car.
Sam would spend the rest of the summer walking on eggshells around both their Dad and Dean and working extra hard to make up for his transgressions. A tension still existed, whatever had gone down between Sam and Dad in that cabin would remain between them with neither Dean asking nor either of them offering up information on what exactly had happened. However, John would never let himself go that far ever again, to Dean’s relief as on the drive back to the motel that day Dean had swore to himself he’d step up before he ever let Dad do something like that to Sam again. There would still be bad days, days with black eyes and bruises but never broken bones, never from Dad. Not even on the worst day four years later when Sam broke the promise he’d made to Dean that summer all those years ago. He left that day with bruises and this time stayed gone, as long as he could anyways.