Chapter 4

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Sam demanded, motioning to the bathroom where his brother had just disappeared. “Dean just got out of the hospital. The doctor said he needed someone to keep an eye on him-to watch his breathing.” The fifteen-year-old could not believe that their father was going on another hunt, in a different town. He’d been late picking them up at the hospital, and now after being home all of ten minutes, he’d up and announced that he was leaving.

“And that’s the only reason I’m leaving you here with him-other wise you’d be going with me.”

Like hell, I would. “I don’t have a drivers license. What if he needs to go back to the hospital?”

“Call Caleb. He’s hunting not too far from here. Or Jim.” John continued to stuff things in his bag. “Or even better, 9-1-1.”

Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why do you have to go this weekend?” He bravely reached out and caught his dad’s arm, making the man stop long enough to look at him. “Won’t this wait?”

“No,” John snapped, but then softened his voice. “I have a lead on something that sounds like it might be connected to the thing that took your mom, Sammy. I can’t take a chance on missing it.”

At least Sam could now understand the distraction but what about all the other things the man was missing. Sam finally let him go, fighting with his own emotions. “Tomorrow’s Father’s Day,” he said brokenly, in a last ditch effort. “Dean has plans.”

“What?” John looked at him like he’d grown another head.

Before Sam could answer his brother chose to reappear, a towel tossed over his bare shoulders, a plastic bag held in his good hand. “One of you want to do the honors?”

Sam looked at his father, who‘d already gone back to packing. “Never mind,” He muttered to his back, taking the bag from Dean and gently sliding it over his brother’s cast, twisting it before looping the ends into a snug knot.

The nineteen-year-old glanced from his brother to the oldest Winchester, who was currently stuffing things in his duffel. “What’s going on?” He asked Sam. “You all right?”

“Dad’s leaving.” Sam told him, not able to bare the look of concern that had flickered through his brother’s green gaze.

“Now?”

“I have a lead in Memphis,” John answered, before Sam could. “It’s important, Ace.”

“Right,” Dean nodded, but Sam didn‘t miss the pinched lines of weariness that formed around his eyes. “We can be ready in ten.”

“No,” John held up his hand. “The doctor said you needed to lay low for a few days. Sam is going to stay here with you. I left enough money on the table to see you all through until I get back.”

“But you’ll need someone to watch your back.” Dean looked at Sam, not real thrilled with the idea of his brother going without him, but less enthused about their father going out alone. “Sammy can go.”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “I’m staying here.”

Dean opened his mouth to disagree, but John cut him off. “I make the decisions around here. You both are staying. Got it?”

Twin nods. “Yes, sir.”

John grabbed his bag, and padded his shirt pocket. “Where’d I put the damn keys?”

“Table,” Sam said simply, suddenly eager for the man to leave, before things could get any worse.

The older hunter nodded and started past them, when Dean stopped him. “Dad…uh, Sam and I got you something.”

Great. Things were about to get worse. Sam watched his brother reach into his jeans pocket with his uninjured hand and withdraw the silver lighter that Merle had helped him pick out.

Dean tossed it to their father, and John caught it, barely glancing at it before dropping it in his own pocket. “Thanks, boys, but you could have bought a whole hell of a lot of Bics for what you paid for that thing.”

And he was gone.

Sam’s mind quickly tried to rationalize his father’s actions even as his heart cried out in disbelief. The man was possibly on the trail of the thing that killed their mother. He was in a hurry. It was getting late. Finally he looked at his brother and faced the cold, bitter, truth. John Winchester could, at times, be a blind bastard.

“Dean,” He attempted, not missing the rush of emotion that stormed across his brother’s face before the older teen could effectively throw up his protective shields.

Dean lifted his arm, holding out his hand as if to keep Sam from moving too close. “I’m going to hit the shower. Why don’t you find us something to eat.”

Sam stayed where he was, obeying his brother’s silent request for space. Maybe he did it for Dean, maybe he did it because he just didn’t know what else to do. “Eggs okay?”

His brother nodded, and then forced a smile. “Just remember I like mine over easy, and you can leave out the shells this time, Sammy Crocker.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

And with that Dean was gone, and Sam sauntered into the kitchen flipping lights on in the small apartment as he went, trying to bring some warmth back after the cold breeze that was his father had stormed through. He opened the refrigerator and stared at the meager contents, hearing the shower kick on and the small radio that they kept in the bathroom start playing something loud and angry.

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Onto chapter 5