The First Bite

It has been a month since Dean got out of the hospital, a month since he was attacked by something not supernatural and a month since Sam stopped trusting his father completely. A month since father and son have spoken more than two words to each other, except concerning Dean's well-being, to say that tensions are running high in the Winchester household would be an understatement. John Winchester's a powder keg waiting to go off (he feels guilt and shame when he looks at Dean but when he looks at Sam, all he can feel is aggravation and exasperation). Sam, for his part, is sullen and withdrawn. Dean sees all of this and he can't help but think that this is like Flagstaff all over again (didn't dad learn anything from that—push Sam too far, too hard and Sam bolts). He's noticed little things, like Sam not unpacking his duffle when they set up someplace new, that have sent up 'Big Brother' warning flags and Dean hopes like hell he's wrong but he seldom is when it comes to Sammy. "Why can't dad see that?" he thinks to himself, "Is he that outta touch with the kid?"

Dean's recuperation has been slow going. John fears that the boy's limp maybe permanent. Then again, nobody's ever accused John Winchester of being 'patient'; he's a man of action and not used to waiting for much of anything, lately.

"Dean"

"Yeah, Sam"

"Can I talk to you about somethin?"

Dean's Samdar is going off and he lifts his eyes to watch his little brother, as he responds.

"Sure"

Sam looks like he's having trouble finding words and that is never a good sign. He sighs and does a pretty good impression of a goldfish and just as he's about to speak, John enters the room.

"Boys, pack up. We have a hunt to get to."

Dean's eyes widen and Sam's narrow to slits. The old adage, Duck and Cover, sounds really good to Dean right now because the shit is about to hit the fan. Dean knows he's in no shape for a hunt and dad should know that too. The cage match of the century is about to start. Ladies and Gentlemen, in this corner: POWDER KEG and in this corner: SULLEN TEENAGER BOY! And if Dean had any sense, he would have already got up and hobbled his ass outta here, but he doesn't have any because he stays right where he is. Yes, Dean's fairly certain that he's the one wearing black and white stripes. He has the sudden urge to say "Keep the fight clean. No hitting below the belt. Wait for the bell—DING!" and it's on.

"No!"

"Sam, I'm not in the mood for any of your bull. You WILL get your shit together and be ready to leave in 10. Is that clear?"

Sam fumes, his dad and all his orders! It's his dad's fault that Dean is in the shape he's in and Sam can't take it anymore. Dad and HIS vendetta—not Sam's never Sam's. Sam doesn't know anything about his mother and he never will because dad and Dean refuse to talk about her—he wouldn't even know what she looked like if he hadn't saw that photo that one time and that was by accident because it was in Dean's duffle. Sam remembers thinking "So they have pictures of her but they don't want me to see them. There was life before the fire and then hunting and they don't want me to be a part of any of it. How can dad expect me to follow HIS orders and march to HIS drum when I'm an OUTSIDER?"

Instead of arguing, Sam deflates and makes a hasty retreat to his and Dean's room to pack their stuff up. It won't even take him 10 minutes, they don't have that much. Dean's shock at Sam's actions shows on his face and John thinks that it's funny.

"What's a matter, son—thought he was gonna fight me on it?"

Dean rolls his eyes and huffs. What his dad doesn't know could fill a book.

"Well, yeah. Somethin's wrong dad, can't you see that?"

"No. Maybe he's just learning who is really in charge around here and FINALLY falling into line. Don't make somethin out of nothing, Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes again and John chuckles, looking quite pleased with himself. In 10 minutes, they are leaving their "current home" behind and Sam's being uprooted again. Whoever said "Life's not fair" should be one rich mother, in Sam Winchester's book, sitting shotgun in his brother's car with his face pressed up against the passenger window watching this town fade into memory like so many before it and probably a million more to come. Dean's watching his brother out of the corner of his eye and when Sam lets out a sigh, Dean's quick to respond to it.

"Sam"

No response.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean"

"You said you wanted to ask me somethin. What?"

"No, Dean. I said I wanted to talk about somethin but it doesn't matter now. Forget it"

"No Sam. Are you okay?"

"M'fine, Dean"

"Sure you are"

They lock eyes for a moment and Dean swears that Sam could melt metal with those eyes but then, Sam's turning back towards the window with a muffled…

"Just forget it"

Tbc

A/N: Reviews make me a happy camper. Sorry it took longer than I said to get this story up and running but I was engrossed in season 8 and quite perplexed as to where the writers are going with Sam and Dean. I have my own theories and maybe I will do some "tags" to these pesky episodes that leave you wanting to pull your hair out—literally. I think they will be okay in the end because all siblings fight and sometimes it can draw blood but you are still family and that's always been the reoccurring theme in this series. Just hurry up and get them back to it, please…