Summary:  A family tragedy during a hunt redirects the lives of the Winchester's in a way they could have never predicted.
Warning:  AU.  WARNING MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(S) IN LATE CHAPTER(S).
A/N:  I hope you enjoy this newest story. This story may different than what you’re used to reading from me. It’s not laden with tons and tons of angst, although there is angst for a few chapters here and there, especially the beginning. I just had an idea I wanted to run with and get out of my system, so here it is. Also, I already have several new stories begging to be written and when I can I will write them.
Happy reading, I hope!
Disclaimer:  The characters of Supernatural were created by Eric Kripke and are owned by the CW Network. No profit is being made.

Jim’s House, Seven Months Later, January 24, 1997

“Happy birthday son,” John cupped the back of his firstborn’s neck as he reached over at the small table in the kitchen. “The big 1-8 today,” John said smiling.

“Yeah, a regular old man now,” Jim quipped as he sat the large pot of chili on a wooden trivet. “I also had Mrs. Stebbins make one of those double chocolate concoctions you love with the butter cream icing you salivate for. Her bakery sure does a business.”

“Thanks Jim,” Dean beamed. There was a honk from outside and Dean smiled. “Oh man,” he popped up. John started to rise and Dean waved him off. “Nah, Dad. I got him.” Dean was out the door in a second. Sammy had been attending extended rehab and schooling sessions for the last few months and the rehab pediatric shuttle bus dropped off some of the children who had shuttle arrangements. Sam was stepping off the shuttle when Dean called out. “Hey kiddo.” Sam quickened his pace to reach his brother at the same time he was pulling a white and brightly colored piece of paper out of his little knap sack.

“Dean!” He shouted. He tried to run, and stumbled, but managed not to fall. It was evident that Sam would always have some mobility issues with his left side. His left hand was no longer curled inward, but he still kept his left arm closer to his side and tended to rest his hand across his stomach. The rehab was still working on that and when they weren’t the Winchester-Murphy household did at home rehab and modified play therapy.

“Easy little man,” Dean urged as he drew closer to his little brother. Sam had finally been able to say Dean instead of Dee over two months ago and he also had been rid of his evening diapers for at least three months and would constantly smile and say ‘I big boy now’ when he knew he had to use the restroom or woke up to a dry bed. Sam met his brother part way in the driveway. Dean was still taller than his little brother, but he knew Sammy would catch up sooner rather than later. He looked at Sam’s wide dark-eyes and innocent dimpled smile and it was hard to believe that in a few short months his little brother would be 14.

“Dean! I made for you.” Sam dropped his knap sack and proudly held his artwork with both hands. Dean looked at the colorful picture of what looked like a stick person on grass holding a brown blob and his body was covered with a red and yellow finger paint and then he noticed the tiny black number scrawled over the colors … 12 … and Dean knew it was a picture of him during a football game.

“Hey Sammy, this is great kiddo. I love it,” Dean ruffled his brother’s hair. “I’ll keep it for always.”

“Promise?” Sam smiled.

“I promise.”

“Hap Birth,” Sam’s speech hurried out of his mouth. Dean smiled patiently.

“Slow down Sammy and try again,” Dean encouraged. Sam frowned, but he knew the drill and took a breath and tried again.

“Happy … Birthday,” he spoke slowly allowing his words to catch up with his mouth. Dean smiled proudly.

“Good boy Sammy. Great job,” Dean replied. “Well, come on I bet Dad and Uncle Jim are dying for some of that hot chili.” Sam’s smile faded and he pulled urgently on his brother’s sweatshirt. “What’s wrong Sammy?” Sam looked at his brother with a mixture of fear and tears.

“Dying?” Sam bubbled out through large tears.

“Huh?” Dean frowned. “Who’s dying?” He didn’t know what his little brother was so upset about.

“You said Daddy and Uncle Jim were dying…” Dean felt two inches tall suddenly. Sam still had a lot of trouble with common figures of speech. He often took them literally.

“No, no, Sammy, Dad and Uncle Jim are fine. I didn’t mean they were really dying. You remember when Dad and I were telling you about how something’s we say don’t really mean what we’re saying. They’re just sort of like sayings, remember?” Sam quirked his face and he tried to recount what Dean was asking.

“I think so,” Sam relented. Dean wasn’t so sure.

“Sammy, dad and Uncle Jim are okay. I just meant they really want that chili, okay?” Sam smiled. Dean reached down and with both thumbs pushed gently at the wetness on his little brother’s cheeks. “Come on kiddo; let’s go show off this painting.” Dean dropped an arm across his brother’s shoulders as he walked him back to the house. “You have a fun day at rehab and school?”

“Lots of fun,” Sam answered excitedly. Sam walked in through the front door with his big brother and made a beeline for the kitchen. Dean just chuckled. “Daddy!” Sam yelled with exuberance.

“Here comes trouble,” Jim said to his friend with a smile. John grinned. He turned knowing the routine and waited for his little boy.

“Daddy!” Sam ran into the kitchen and threw his arms around his father’s waist and hugged him. John squeezed back.

“Hey there kiddo, how’s my boy?” John sat down on a chair and Sam quickly perched himself on his father’s lap. “You’re gettin’ heavy Sammy,” John mused.

“Hi Uncle Jim,” Sam smiled in Jim’s direction.

“Hi Sammy,” Jim said lightly. “You have a good day today?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly and turned his attention back to his father. “I learn more letters and numbers today daddy and we did picture cards. I did a whole page and Ms. Penny said I did good. See!” Sam pulled out a practice sheet of letters of the alphabet and a sheet with various numbers. John looked at his son’s handy work. There were still brief profound moments of sadness John experienced when he looked at Sam’s new learning efforts. The ‘other’ Sam could read and recite Latin, read Shakespeare, Conrad and understand what he’d read even at his young age. He was exceptional, but John was coming to realize that this Sam is exceptional in his own special way, too.

“Good boy Sammy. You did a nice job. I’m proud. What’s this?” John saw a pink note card stapled to his son’s daily progress report.

“Ms. Penny write note for you,” Sam replied. His young son hadn’t begun the task of re-learning to read yet, so notes never had to be in envelopes.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean chimed in. “Let’s go get you cleaned up for dinner. I’m hungry.” John held one of Sam’s arms to steady him as he got out of his lap. John looked at the note:

Dear Mr. Winchester,

I wanted to let you know I’m pleased with Sam’s progress with the memory exercises we’ve been doing in class. He’s doing well with his writing progress, too. However, I’ve attached some more practice sheets for him to do at home with you or someone else. He needs the practice. Also, it will help with his fine motor skill issues. He’s a pleasure in class and full of energy. The students will be tested next week for their cognitive placement levels and once the results are concluded I will arrange for a parent-teacher conference to discuss Sam’s placement. Also, as per the requirements of his rehab facilitator I will forward his scores to the rehab, so they may better adjust his various rehab activities.

If you have any questions at all, please don’t hesitate to contact me.

Sincerely,

Penny Renault, MSW, Ph.D., Special Education

Minds in MotionLearningAcademy

“Good or bad news,” Jim prompted when he saw his old friend finish with the note.

“Depends,” John sighed. “They’re doing cognitive testing next week.”

“You mean they’ll place him cognitive level wise? Like they did a few months ago?”

“Yeah, I think. I know they’ll be doing an IQ test next month for the students.” John ran a hand across his face.

“Why so worried about it?” Jim hedged.

“Just afraid what they’ll say about Sammy,” John offered bluntly. “It’s just after the IQ placement it’ll be official ya know,” John lamented.

“What will be official?” Jim looked perplexed.

“The label they’ll attach to my boy. The state, society, you name it,” John’s voice was gruff and held a hint of bitterness.

“Look John that boy has made progress we weren’t even sure he’d make. Everyday he tries so hard in school. He’s learning to the best of his ability Johnny.”

“I know,” John agreed. “I’m thrilled with his progress. I’m proud of Sammy, but…”

“But, nothing,” Jim interjected. “That boy has a good family support system and he’s happy and healthy. Something else is bothering you John. What is it?”

“Dean’s academic counselor Mr. Armon called me today,” he began.

“Oh yeah, I remember you were on the phone this morning when I was leaving for the rectory. Is everything okay? I mean Dean’s a good student…” John smiled at the irony of the current situation. His eldest had become a strong student and showed a real passion for math and engineering. He had also excelled in athletics with varsity football.

“Everything’s fine … better than fine. It seems he had Dean sit down a few weeks ago during college week with an academic recruiter from MIT for their Materials Engineering program, well I guess they were really impressed with Dean’s SAT scores and his grades.”

“MIT?” Jim couldn’t mask his surprise. “Dean never said anything.”

“Yeah, I know. It seems he told Mr. Armon he wanted to go to a local college that he could commute to and from and sat down with MIT just to pacify his counselor, but I guess as part of a college week the students had to practice filling out applications and Dean filled out one for MIT and his counselor submitted it after he interviewed.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to attend a place like MIT?” John looked at his long time friend with an incredulous look and Jim raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“One word,” John offered with a rueful smile. Jim nodded.

“Sammy,” Jim answered quietly.

“Yeah,” John’s voice was rough. “Anyway, his counselor was calling to tell me that the school was in the process of sending out early acceptance letters for the fall following graduation and that Dean should be receiving a priority mail envelope today.”

“They’re offering him a spot? Man, John he doesn’t even finish high school until June.”

“Yeah, it came and a letter for me, too. Jim,” John looked at his friend. “They’ve offered him a full ride scholarship including room and board based on his academic credentials and SAT scores.” John felt proud, but worried Dean wouldn’t accept.

“That’s fantastic,” Jim answered excitedly.

“What is?” Dean asked as he walked into the kitchen alone. John looked for Dean’s ever present little shadow known as Sammy, but didn’t see him.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Bathroom.”

“Alone?”

“Dad,” Dean began softly. “Let him have a little space. He can handle taking a leak, and anyway I make him leave the door cracked and I looked in on him before I came down the hall. He was just finishing up.” John nodded. “So, what’s fantastic Jim?”

“Uh …”

“Went to potty by self,” Sam announced loudly and with pride as he came into the kitchen. Jim was never so happy to have been granted a reprieve.

“You wash your hands Sammy,” Dean asked. Sam looked up at his brother and smiled. He raised his hands up to his brother.

“Smell good,” he offered. “I clean them. Germs go bye-bye.” Dean smiled. He had told Sam one day that he had to wash his hands after using the bathroom because germs were little creatures that could make him sick if he didn’t kill them with soap and warm water.

“Good boy, Sammy,” John answered for his eldest.

Later that Evening

Dean’s birthday chili dinner and cake were all consumed with laughs and a pleasant evening. “You sorry you didn’t go out with your friends tonight? It is a Friday night after all,” John suggested as he sat down in an overstuffed chair across from his boys on the couch. Sam had fallen asleep with his head resting on Dean’s left thigh. He was in his pajamas already and Dean grinned at the retro design of Speed Racer, the kid loved that cartoon, although it aired long before he was even born, but because of reruns Sam had become hooked while watching the Saturday morning cartoons one day.

“Nah, we’re getting together tomorrow night and Tyler got us some slots at the indoor paintball place that opened up last weekend.” He answered softly as he gently rested a hand on top of Sam’s head.

“I should put him down,” John replied as he got up.

“I can do it Dad,” Dean offered quickly.

“No, I got it and I’d like to talk to you anyway, so stay put.” Dean’s brow creased with concern.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” John smiled softly.

“You sure? ‘Cause if there is something up with Sammy…” John cut Dean off with a simple raise of his right hand and shook his head gently.

“You’re brother is fine Dean,” John bent and gently lifted Sam’s body from the couch. “Oof,” he said quietly. “Not going to be able to do this much longer,” John handled the gangly limbs and extra weight with ease, but knew that his baby boy would soon be too big to carry to bed. Dean smiled.

“Yeah, he’s all legs and arms these days,” Dean commented softly. “He’s gonna be tall isn’t he?” John nodded.

“I think so,” he replied as he felt Sam nestle his head against his chest as he settled into his father’s arms. “I think he may pass us both up Dean.”

“Nah? Really?” Dean lamented. “Now, how’s that work? My little brother may be taller than me?” John chuckled softly.

“Maybe?” he offered lightly. “We’ll just have to see.” John moved off down the hall and returned a few minutes later with some items in his hands and Jim in tow. He was fairly certain he’d need some backup for this conversation and a voice of reason that Dean may listen to if he refused to hear him out.

“Okay, I thought you said nothing was wrong?” Dean’s eyes filled with worry.

“Nothing is,” John countered casually. Dean eyed both men trying to size up the situation.

“Then why do I feel like I’m about to be double teamed over something. I mean, Jim’s here for backup, right? What’s going on?” John couldn’t help, but laugh and look at his friend.

“He knows us too well,” he responded wryly.

“Your dad’s right,” Jim answered. “And, I guess you’re right, too,” he looked at Dean.

“Okay, so what’s this about?”

“I got a letter and phone call today,” John began tentatively. “This came for you today.” He placed the still sealed priority mailer in front of Dean on the coffee table. Dean looked at the label: MIT. His face paled and then reddened quickly as his anger flared.

“Wait! How the hell? I didn’t apply. I talked to those bastards for college week, but I didn’t …”

“Your counselor gave them the application you filled out…” John offered. “It’s an early admit letter Dean. They sent me a letter,” John hurried on. “It’s a full ride Dean to MIT . It’s room and board, tuition … it’s all paid for. The only thing left is for you to accept.” Dean shook his head and rose from the couch suddenly. John had anticipated Dean’s anger.

“No! No way in hell! I told Mr. Armon I wanted to go local, so I could still live at home and commute.”

“Dean,” John began calmly. “This is MIT and this sort of opportunity only knocks once. You can’t let something like that go.”

“Your dad’s right Dean,” Jim offered.

“I’m not leaving Sammy. He needs me around.”

“He has Jim and me. Plus, he keeps busy with school, rehab, he’s even made some friends at school. He’ll be okay.”

“No,” Dean answered with venom. “I’m not abandoning him. I can’t … I won’t.”

“Dean,” Jim jumped into the conversation. “It wouldn’t be like that. Look you’d be doing this for Sammy.” Dean looked at the preacher as if he’d sprung horns and hooves.

“How’s that work?” Dean spat. “Huh? You and Dad want me to abandon Sammy. How does me going away to college do something for my brother.” John rubbed his face in frustration. He felt like the battle was being lost. “Huh?” Dean spat again when neither of the older men gave him an answer.

“Because you’re going for both of you,” John answered softly staring at the area rug under his feet. The room fell silent. John looked up and met his first born son’s green-hazel eyes and smiled softly. “You’re brother’s never gonna go to a place like MIT or Stanford Dean. But, you can … MIT wants you … a full ride … you go and do the best damn job you can and you do it for yourself and your brother.”

“Should be Sammy,” Dean choked out. “I don’t know how the hell this happened. One day I’m ready to hunt for the rest of my life and then Sammy’s hurt and everything changed … I …” John stood up and pulled his son into a hug.

“Look,” John pulled back and met his child’s gaze. “A year ago the world exploded for us, but then when the dust settled it was different, but we’ve managed haven’t we? Sammy is doing better than the doctor’s ever thought he would and he’s still learning. He’s alive and as horrible as the accident was Dean the outcome of it making me see what I was doing to both my boys lives is something I will always have to be partially grateful for, although the price paid for my learning curve was much too high.” Jim sat and listened to his old friend talk to his son. John Winchester had truly changed for the sake of his children. He was the father Jim always knew he could be when vengeance and hunting didn’t burn so brightly. He was the father the boys had before the night Mary died.

“Dad, I can’t just leave…”

“You’re not leaving Dean. You’re going to school. There are school breaks and the phone. Hell, if you want to fly home on an occasional weekend when you’re not buried in school work you can do that too. You’re not leaving … just going away for a while.”

“But, Sammy won’t understand,” Dean’s eyes misted up with the thought of Sam’s tears and confused voice.

“We’ll talk to him,” John started. “Hey, he might just surprise us,” he commented. “He’ll miss you, but he’s going to be kept so busy that it’s gonna be okay.”

“He’ll be alone in his room. He might get scared. We share…”

“Dean,” John stopped his son. “It isn’t your responsibility to solve every hurdle for your brother’s wellbeing. I know I put him in your arms and made you take charge way too young, but let me shoulder some of the weight now, okay. Jim and I will figure it out. It will work,” John and Jim both nodded at Dean. “Sammy’s more resilient than you think. He’s not a china plate,” John smiled softly. “I may just be figuring that out now, but he’s not gonna break kiddo.”

“Dad…”

“Dean, I can’t force you, but I gotta tell you this moment will not come again and I don’t want you way down the road one day thinking back on what could have been … I don’t want you resenting your brother.”

“I wouldn’t … I couldn’t …” Dean answered hotly. “He’s my little brother.”

“I know Dean,” John answered calmly. “It’s not like I think you will, but the feelings can creep up ya know and anyway do you think if Sammy could understand what this opportunity meant he’d want you to pass it up?” Dean turned anguished eyes to his father. “Dean, son … if the roles had been reversed and you had had the accident on the hunt and let’s say the years had gone by and Sammy was accepted to some place … I don’t know let’s say Stanford with a full-ride would you want him to stay behind and go to a school that really didn’t have a program of study he wanted to do, but he was staying in order to be closer to you?”

“No,” Dean answered softly.

“Why?”

“Because…”

“Because why,” John urged gently.

“Because I’d want him to be happy and it’s not like he’d be gone forever,” Dean’s voice drifted off.

“What else?”

“He’s my brother no matter where he is in the world and just because he wasn’t around everyday I’d know he was doing something I knew was important to him and I wouldn’t want him to pass up a full ride.” John and Jim looked at each other and then at Dean. John clasped a warm hand on his son’s shoulder.

“So?” He hedged. “You’ll accept?” John held his breath. He could see the battle of emotions waging across his child’s face.

“Yeah,” Dean answered quietly and with a shaky voice. John pulled Dean into a bear hug. Jim walked over when the father and son separated.

“I’m proud of you Dean. This is a good thing,” Jim said. “You made the right decision.”

The Next Evening at Roosters Diner, Blue Earth

“MIT?” Tyler smiled. “That’s pretty awesome man.” Dean sat in a large booth flanked by friends for a belated birthday get together and he looked across the booth at Tyler as he spoke.

“Yeah, Dean-O, you’re like Ivy League now dude,” Cody Halverson said as he dipped his last fry into a mound of ketchup and popped it into his mouth.

“So, you’re gonna accept, right?” Brady Becker wanted confirmation.

“Right?” Brady’s twin brother Jordan echoed his brother.

“Yeah,” Dean replied his voice dull and his eyes shifting down to his food. Tyler eyed his best friend and had come to know that look and tone.

Twenty Minutes Later

“You sure you guys don’t need a ride?” Tyler affirmed as everyone but he and Dean got up from their diner seats.

“Nah, we’re good, my dad is just down the street at a meeting and we’ll catch a lift with him,” Cody answered. “I’ll take Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb with me, too.”

“Hey!” both Brady and Jordan said in irritated unison. Dean and Tyler chuckled.

“Happy birthday man and I guess its only right you kicked our asses at paintball, since it was your birthday and all, you’d think you were some kind of Rambo,” Cody joked. Dean just offered a mild grin and nodded. He hadn’t been around hunting for a while but it was still apart of him.

Tyler and Dean watched their friends leave. “So,” Dean started as he poked at his waffle fries. “You decide on which college you want? I know you were thinkin’ California.”

“Nah-uh, you don’t’ get to dodge,” Tyler countered. “I know that look…”

“What look?” Dean asked sharply.

“When Brady asked you if you were going to accept the MIT early admit … come on you weren’t exactly throwing confetti man. I thought you’d be excited,” Tyler urged. “What’s up?”

“I said I’m going, so what’s the big deal,” Dean grumbled. “What? If I’m not dancing a freakin’ Irish jig or shooting sunbeams out my ass it means I’m not excited.

“Look Mr. Personality,” Tyler’s tone changed a fraction to match Dean’s, if for any other reason to simply give his friend an attitude check … it usually worked and this time was no different. Dean’s brow softened and he went back to poking at his waffle fries.

“Sorry,” he said softly. Tyler bit into half of his toasted turkey club.

“No problem,” came out muffled as he chewed. “So?”

“It’s nothing,” Dean countered as he finally managed to eat a fry. Tyler took a drink of Pepsi and cleared his voice … it was all too clear. He offered a small understanding smile.

“Okay, let me translate,” he smiled. “After all, I think I’ve become fairly fluent in Dean speak over the last couple years. “In Dean speak … ‘it’s nothin’’ well, for starters always means somethin’ and that somethin’ usually almost always turns out to be a someone,” he smiled warmly. “Goes by the name Sam.” Dean looked at his friend and offered a mild grin and Tyler knew he had hit the nail on the head.

“You don’t get it Ty,” Dean began. “He’s gonna be alone. I won’t be there. I’ve been with him everyday of his life ya know and since the accident … it’s just I hate leavin’ him.” Tyler offered a sympathetic look.

“Dean, look I get what you’re saying, I do … but, you can’t hold on so tight,” he encouraged. “And, he’s not alone,” he added. “He’s got your dad and your Uncle Jim and both of them are awesome with him. I’m over at your place at least once every weekend and I see how they are with your little brother and Sam will be okay.”

“I know they’re great with him, I do,” Dean agreed. “It’s just he’ll have the bedroom all to himself now and …”

“You’re gonna miss him” Tyler offered.

“Yeah,” Dean answered quietly.

“Hey, when I think about heading off to college and leaving my kid brother behind I know I’m going to miss the little pain in the ass,” he smiled to himself. “But, we gotta let go a little Dean.”

“It’s different for Sammy.”

“Really? How?” Tyler spoke evenly knowing full well that Dean hated people implying Sam was anything other than normal and now he was trying to use it as an excuse. Dean stared at his friend for a moment and then let out a long sigh as he realized what he had implied.

“Okay, fine,” Dean started. “I’m not sure I’m ready to leave yet, are you happy now?” Tyler chuckled softly.

“Look, man, you’re ready to go,” he asserted. “Sammy will be fine. It’s not like you’re leaving and never coming back. He’s in good hands at home. Anyway, look at like this,” he said with a grin. “You’re doing this for him, too.” Dean looked at him oddly almost hearing his father’s words repeated back to him.

“My dad sort of said the same thing,” Dean replied. “Cause Sammy will never go.” Tyler shook his head.

“Nah, not that … anyway who says he’ll never be able to go, you never know. There are community colleges with special programs, but what I meant was you get a degree from a place like MIT and you can write your own ticket and you’ve said before that eventually way down the road that when your dad and uncle are gone you’ll be Sam’s sole guardian and with the job you can get you’ll be able to provide for him the way he needs to be … school and those extra day camps your dad is always sending him to on the weekends to learn and have some fun with kids his own age.” Tyler stopped and looked at his friend. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“So, when did you become all wise sage, anyway?” Tyler threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter.

“Dude, wise and sage are two words that I never thought I’d hear in reference to me, geez that’s the joke of the year … you oughta send that one into Letterman.”

“Shut up,” Dean mused.

“I’m just sayin’,” Tyler was still laughing.

“You know you never answered my question about college,” Dean switched the subject. “You hear from any yet? I know you submitted early.”

“Yeah,” Tyler replied. “I was accepted at two … UCLA and USC.”

“Really? Why didn’t you say anything when we were with the guys?”

“It was your night Dean and anyway after the MIT full ride bombshell announcement, I didn’t think my UCLA news was a big deal,” he paused a second. Dean frowned.

“Well, it is,” Dean answered. “That’s great though, I know you wanted in Callie for college … your parents happy?”

“Yeah, my dad’s actually going to fly out there and take a tour with me for orientation.”

“Really?” Dean couldn’t hide the surprise. Tyler’s dad wasn’t around a lot and spent a lot of time working. It was his mom that Dean had most interactions with and he thought she was pretty great.

“Yeah, I know,” Tyler understood Dean’s surprise. “I had to have him say it a couple times because I didn’t believe what I was hearing. He’s even reserved the tickets for the whole family. I guess he said we’re going to turn it into a vacation or something. It shocked the hell out of me…” Tyler shook his head and smiled.

“Well, it’s about time your old man stepped up. Good for you man,” Dean was happy for Tyler.

“So, you good Winchester?” Tyler studied his friend.

“Yeah, I’m getting there I think … I’m getting there.” Tyler nodded.

Late Summer 1997, Cambridge, Massachusetts, MIT Campus Quad

“Dean! Daddy!” Sam shouted with excitement. “Look!” He pointed at a large sculpture that had been recently erected by a mathematician/sculptor. It was a large metal three dimensional box that spun on an axis. It glinted silver and bright in the afternoon sun and fascinated Sam.

“Yeah, Sammy I see,” Dean answered with a smile as he watched his brother move hurriedly toward the sculpture and the large fountain with dancing water timed to spray with leaping intervals from reservoir to reservoir. “Be careful around the fountain Sammy,” Dean’s voice was worried.

“He’s okay Dean,” John commented. “I got an eye on him.” Dean offered a bashful smile.

“Yeah, okay,” he replied. Both men’s attention was brought up sharply by Sam’s cries. Both men took off running for Sam who sat on the concrete near the fountain. “Sammy!” Dean and John skidded to a stop and knelt next to their youngest family member.

“I trip and fall … knee all bloody … hurt,” Sam’s fourteen year old voice was beginning to change in pitch and he was starting to lose that child tone and it made Dean and John both ache. At least when he was younger his disability wasn’t so noticeable to the outside world because he was smaller and looked like a child, but now he was growing taller and his voice was moving toward adulthood and leaving its childish tones behind.

“You’re okay, Sammy,” John took charge of the situation. He pulled out a cotton tissue and an antibacterial handy wipe he ripped out of a paper foil pack. Dean stared wide-eyed at his father as he deftly cleaned and tended to his brother quickly. “See? Almost all better,” he comforted as Sam calmed and simply watched his father make his knee better.

“When did you become a mini-van Mom?” Dean joked.

“Huh?”

“You know? They carry wipes and stuff,” he joked. “Antibacterial wipes? I didn’t even know you carried them.” John chuckled as he finished up with his youngest son.

“Well, you know how he gets all sticky when he’s around stuff. You remember the Fourth of July festival a few weeks ago? I swear he managed to get more ice cream on his face and hands than he got into his mouth.” It was Dean’s turn to laugh.

“Yeah, I remember he even got some on an earlobe. I don’t even want to know how he managed that one.”

Later that Day

“Thanks for coming to the campus tour for new students, Dad. I’m glad you and Sammy both came. Man, I can’t believe when we leave here I’ll be back in three weeks to move into the campus apartments and start college. This is like some kinda Twilight Zone episode, isn’t it? I’m gonna wake up soon and it’ll be all a dream, right?” John smiled.

“I know it must feel like that son, but it’s all happening and you deserve every damn bit of it, okay? I enjoyed seeing your school and where you’ll live. Your professors seem nice, but intense.” He paused and smiled warmly. “I’m so proud of you,” he glanced at Sam who was happily coloring in a book they’d bought in the gift shop of their hotel. “I’m proud of both my boys.” Dean looked over at his brother.

“Hey Sammy?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he kept coloring.

“Why’d you make the sky purple?” Sam looked up and smiled.

“’Cause I can,” he answered simply and went back to coloring. John and Dean both laughed light heartedly.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” John commented quietly. “So,” John turned to his oldest. “What’d they call you at orientation … Mech … something?” Dean laughed.

“A MechE student, Dad,” Dean replied. “It’s what they call the students in the Mechanical Engineering program. It’s the MechE program.”

“I gotcha,” John answered. “All that class schedule stuff … your plates gonna be full.”

“Yeah, but come on, who wouldn’t be stoked about a class in Thermal Dynamics that’s awesome.” John just smiled and shook his head in amazement. Dean had flourished in ways he never dreamed when they moved to Blue Earth after Sam’s accident. It still made his chest ache to think had the accident never happened and he’d always wish it hadn’t, but if it hadn’t his boys would still be living out of motel rooms and Dean would not be headed into the life he was and Sammy… well, he was just glad his child survived and in his own way he was making as many advances as Dean, but just different ones. He couldn’t help, but think about the life Sam might have had, but he tried not to dwell on the could haves, he lived in the here and now.

“Boys,” he pulled from his thoughts. “How about we go down to the hotel restaurant and get some grub. You think you want a burger or fish sticks Sammy?”

“Burgie,” he chirped with excitement as he dropped the orange crayon on the coloring book.

“Okay, head em’ up and move em’ out,” John ushered his son’s from their hotel room. “We have an early morning flight out of here, so let’s eat now and get things situated early,” John commented.

Two weeks Later, Jim’s Pond

“So, Sammy,” Dean walked with his brother and watched Duncan run around after Sam would toss it away as best he could. His motor abilities had vastly improved from the beginning of his brain injury, but his movements were still delayed a bit and he would still stumble when he tried to run or he simply misplaced an uncoordinated step. He was trying and Dean could see his young brother’s brow furrow in concentration trying to make his young body cooperate. “You remember what Dad and I have been talking to you about the last couple weeks or so?”

“You leaving,” Sam answered as he looked up to his brother and then back to Duncan who was fast approaching with his trusty stick.

“You know what that means?”

“You go to school with the big yard,” Sam replied. Dean smiled. He knew Sam was remembering the quad they had all toured and walked through while visiting campus on their family trip to Cambridge, Massachusetts.

“Yeah, that’s right, but I’m only a phone call away, okay. So, if you want to talk to me just have Dad call me, okay?” Sam nodded and tossed the stick. Dean doubted his brother fully comprehended what was going to be happening. “I won’t be sleepin’ in the room with you, but Dad’s just down the hall, okay?” Sam looked at his brother.

“Why no sleep with me?” Dean sat down on a tree stump, so that he was at his brother’s eye level.

“Kiddo, I’m going away to school … the one with the big yard … it’s too far away for me to come home after school to sleep. It’s not like here when I was in high school. I’m going to college now.” Dean watched his brother’s warm eyes fill with tears as his mind finally began to grasp the gravity of what would be happening … his big brother was leaving. Dean reached out and pulled his little brother to him and hugged him. Sam clung to him like he was a life preserver in a strong current. “Hey, hey,” he comforted. “I’m not leavin’ forever little man,” Dean assured. “I’ll be back for Thanksgiving and Christmas and whenever I can, I promise.”

“You be back for turkey day and Santa?” Dean grinned.

“Yeah, Sammy, I’ll be back for turkey day and Santa.” His brother had no memories that there was no Santa Claus or Easter bunny for that matter, so the family had indulged him and would continue to for as long as Sam believed.

“Miss you,” Sam sniffled and hugged himself to his older brother once more. Dean held him close.

“I’ll miss you too Sammy,” he replied softly into his brother’s soft chestnut hair. “I’ll miss you, too.”

Two Months Later, October 31, 1997, Beggar’s Night

John walked with Jim through the small town square of Blue Earth and watched the children go to the different shops for candy treats. The Winchester-Murphy family was well known in the town. No one ever questioned the different last names all they knew is that Jim called the Winchester boys his nephews and that made them and their father family. Sam had gathered with some of the children from his school for trick or treating and John kept a keen eye on his boy as he went about with the other children and a school chaperone. Sam had been acting quiet the last couple days and had felt warm before leaving the house. John had tried to dissuade his child from trick or treating in the crisp October weather, but it was Sam’s first trick or treat since he was a small baby when he and Mary had taken the boys out together in October of 1983. Sam was just five months old and Mary had dressed him up as a pumpkin while Dean had been a fireman. Tonight, was against John’s better judgment, but it meant a lot to Sam.

“He’s having fun,” Jim offered lightly, as he watched Sam in his white sheet. Jim didn’t miss the irony of the fact Sam had gone as a ghost. He was fourteen to the outside world, but with the mind of a child much younger. “He’s been falling behind a little with the kid’s. I think he’s coming down with something … I hear the flu is going around.”

“Yeah, he felt warm before we left …” John didn’t get to finish when he heard a frantic yell … I need some help! Call 911. Both John and Jim’s eyes darted to the voice and it was one of the school chaperone’s tending the children. John could see it was his child on the ground and from where John was it looked at though his son was having a seizure. Both John and Jim ran across the street. John dropped to his knees and cradled his son’s head loosely as he continued to seize. There was the distinct sound of sirens coming from up the street. “Sammy?” John’s voice was agonized. “Its’ okay kiddo … Daddy’s here.” Sam continued to jerk in his father’s grasp. The seizure slowed to a stop right as the paramedics jumped from the ambulance and were approaching. John looked down at his unconscious child assuring himself that his son’s small chest was rising and falling.

“Sir, what happened?”

“I think it was a seizure. It just stopped … he felt warm before we left the house, I don’t…” John’s mind was going a thousand miles an hour and Jim recognized the signs that a stressed and scared father had replaced the cool and calm hunter he knew. He stepped up to answer questions as John stroked his child’s hair as two other medics prepared him for transport.

“I’m sure it was a seizure of some sort, but he’s never had one before. His name is Sam. He’s fourteen, he has no known allergies. His Doctor is Dr. Kirk Odden at Blue Earth Medical Center.”

“That his pediatrician?” the medic asked to verify.

“No, he’s Sam’s general physician and is also his brain injury and rehab doctor. Sam’s special … there was a near drowning a year ago. He has cognitive delays …” the paramedic raised a hand.

“It’s okay, we’ll call ahead to alert them, okay?” Jim nodded. “Can you both follow? There isn’t enough room back here,” the paramedic asked.

“He might get scared if he wakes up on the way,” John started. “He doesn’t know …”

“It’s okay sir, I promise. Margaret here is awesome with kids.” John nodded as his eyes fell on his limp son being strapped down and an oxygen mask was placed over his too small face. He watched them place electrodes to his small chest to monitor his heart and saw a woman shining a penlight in his eyes.

“We better go,” there was something urgent in the female medic’s voice.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” John barked in a panic.

“His pupil’s aren’t responding like I want, they’re a little sluggish … could be because of the seizure, but I just want to err on the side of caution for your son’s sake.” John heard them call ahead on the radio and heard things like respirations are suppressed, on oxygen, pupil response is slow, possible seizure, no known allergies, fourteen year-old with previous brain injury … his Doctor is on staff, Dr. Kirk Odden. ETA six minutes.

John watched the ambulance pull away and he and Jim ran for Jim’s car. His heart was hammering in his chest. “I knew I should have taken him to the doctor two days ago, he hasn’t been himself” John hissed out loud.

“Kid’s get sick Johnny, you’ll see Sammy will be fine.”

“Sammy’s special Jim you know that,” John answered hotly. “I should have…”

“Just relax John,” Jim tried to ease his friend’s nerves and self blame.

“He had a fucking seizure,” John spat. Jim knew John was on the razor’s edge if he was dropping “F” bombs.

The Emergency Room, Two Hours Later

John and Jim still had no word about Sam and hadn’t laid eyes on the boy since he was closed into the ambulance. “Where the hell is the doctor?” John ground out.

“He’ll be out when he can John. Look, Kirk’s in there, and you know Sam’s just not another random patient to him. He’s in good hands.” John rubbed a hand over his eyes.

“He’s just a little boy Jim … I … I can’t …” Jim put a comforting hand on his friend’s forearm.

“John,” his voice calm and soothing, “you’re not going to lose him.” He knew his old friend too well. But, in essence his friend’s fears were his also. Jim Murphy couldn’t imagine a world without Sammy. The ER doors swung open and John and Jim both met eyes with Dr. Kirk Odden.”

“How’s Sammy?” John asked quickly his face a mask of worry and fear.

“Let’s sit,” the doctor’s voice was tight. Kirk’s face wasn’t comforting. John felt a heavy coldness settle inside his chest.