Sam Winchester is Going to Be a Lawyer~πͺ½
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All Sam wants to do is keep Dean out of jail. | Just Angst. π
What an extraordinary boy Sam was. It didn't matter where he was or what the circumstances were, he'd kept those grades up like his life depended on it.
Well, like his brother's life depended on it.
Since his little head could first think thoughts he knew his brother was different. Nine year olds didn't go out picking fights with wild animals, shoot beer bottles or broken cars, and definitely did not guard shitty motels in their free time. It took no time at all to learn the word 'delinquent' described what his brother wasβ and that
'lawyer' was the word that accompanied not only that, but juvie' as well.
Sam Winchester was going to be a lawyer to keep his delinquent brother out of juvie.
He'd done well in every state, every city, every town he'd graced his brief presence with, a real scholar in the works. The boy studied so intensely that he'd wrecked his eyes by thirteen, needing glasses he could never get. Regardless, he just started writing bigger.
After all, Sam Winchester was going to be a lawyer.
John brought the boys to Texas a bit after Dean's nineteenth birthday. To Sam's delight, his big brother got his G.E.D. And stayed out of big trouble. He went on even more hunts with dad now, which he knew was bad yet still better than behind bars. The thought of Dean behind bars before Sam could represent him made him shake with fear. Dean didn't know it but all this work was for him, Sam's way of paying back his brother for all those years of protection from monsters.
Oh how badly he wanted to be a lawyer, that his tired eyes and shaky hands lifted school cafeteria smiley fries to his lips between ever turning pages of Orwell. He had a test next period. Texas heat called for bottles upon bottles of Gatorade and lemonade, now unsure if the shaking was from fear, exhaustion, or a sugar high.
Some shaky feeling which caused runny noses and Dean titled 'sob-fests' when he heard cop cars pass by because: "What if Dean's in there?" And his brother would burst into the motel with greasy food and bloody clothes, sirens disappearing shortly after.
Pen tap-tap-tapping like a gavel calling for order.
Three taps and three years go by. Sammy's about to go to college. He never told Dean or John, it was for the best. He was ready to leave. He could get his degree and come back with a loving fiancΓ©e and keep his brother out of trouble because damn it all if he couldn't have a turn as a sentinel. A lawyer.
He sleeps soundly the night before he leaves, the sound of police cars not bothering him. He waits patiently for the sound of a kicked in door and a
"Hey Sammy! Want pie?" But that sound didn't arrive.
He's shaken awake by John, duffel thrown at his face in a panic.
"Dad? Dad what's happening?!"
"They got Dean. Hunt went wrong, cops caught us at the vamp's nest. He took one for the team.""
Sam could vomit, but his stomach was empty waiting for his brother to bring home dinner.
Dean was arrested. No, this wasn't real. He was supposed to wait until he passed the bar and now Dean was stuck behind some. John rushed to pack, shouting at his son to hurry up and be ready to leave the state. To leave Dean behind.
Sam's plan to leave to Stanford vaporized like his brother's freedom. Both futures gone in an instant. He couldn't help but cry. Ugly sobs filled those blinding eyes, drowned out by more hurried shouts.
The impala roared to life as dad pushed his son's matted head into the back seat. All that credit card fraud and not a cent spent on bail. Sam curled up in the back seat in his shorts and tee shirt, holding tight to himself his bag as John uttered:
"We're heading to Palo Alto for a hunt. Heard it's nice there. Maybe you'll be better than your slob of a brother."
Sam Winchester was stupid to think he could be anything but a hunter.
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