Written for the Sam Winchester big bang 2015 challenge

See the amazing artwork by winchesterchola here: winchesterchola . tumblr post/109583185759/punching-in-a-dream-art-post

Watch the "movie trailer" here: www . youtube watch?v=E9jnnrEFmOM&feature=youtu . be

Listen to the "soundtrack" here: 8tracks felixfelicius/punching-in-a-dream

Warnings: Suicide attempt/suicidal thoughts/minor drug use

Chapter 1: Road full of promise

The blessed sound of a ringing bell filled the air. All around him, antsy teenagers quickly gathered their school things and made for the door like their life depended on it. He however, moved more purposefully, putting away his things in an orderly manner. He pulled on his coat and stood up, swinging his backpack on his back.

"Sam," a voice called out from behind him.

It was Cooper, a tall clean cut sort of guy, with a penchant for hoodies and a serious gaze. Their English teacher said the other boy was having trouble with his essay writing and needed a little help to pass the class.

Writing came easy to Sam, and his grades showed. So it had been a no-brainer for the teacher for pair them up. They had been meeting after school in the library twice a week for the past two weeks.

"We're still on for tomorrow right?"

Sam nodded with a polite smile then continued on his way out of the room. Cooper was doing everything he could to be his friend. But Sam wasn't about to let that happen. He'd had to let too many friends go unexpectedly, that he couldn't bare the thought of doing it anymore. What was the point of making friends if you had to leave them in the middle of the night without a proper goodbye?

Out in the hallway, his pocket started vibrating. Sam pulled out his cellphone and flipped it open. The caller ID told him it was Pastor Jim, a family friend.

"Hey Jim," Sam answered.

"You got in Sam."

He froze.

"Where?" he asked.

This was a call he had been anxiously awaiting for, for months.

"Stanford!" Jim all but shouted. "And a full ride too!"

Sam's mouth dropped open in shock.

"I... how... now I have..." he stuttered along trying to put into words his joy at the news, "Wow."

"Congratulations kid," Jim said.

"Thanks, I..." Sam's face fell. "How do I tell Dad?" Sam heard a sigh on the other end of the phone. "How do I tell Dean?"

"Give it some time," Jim answered. "We'll think of something. You still have to graduate first, then you have all summer to fret."

Sam looked at the ground.

"I guess."

"Hey, don't worry about it right now," Jim said. "Just enjoy the fact that you got in. Let that keep you going okay?" he said.

Sam tried to smile.

"I will."

"you know I always pray for you and your family," Jim reminded him.

"I do," Sam answered. "Thanks... for everything."

"Anytime kid," Jim said, then he hung up.

Sam truly was grateful. Pastor Jim had agreed to help him submit all his college applications using his address in Blue Earth, Minnesota. He'd also given a glowing recommendation to accompany the applications. Sam was sure it had been a huge factor in his acceptance. Pastor Jim had also helped track down all his records and organize the applications. It was a lot of work and he never would have been able to pull it off alone.

His dad would never have allowed it.

The thought of his father brought Sam back down to earth. He had only a few months to figure what he was going to do.

But right now, he needed to get home.

Not that there would be anyone there.

But he had homework to do. And it always got done faster when there was no one home, which was happening a lot more these days.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he finally left the stuffy interior of the school and stepped out into the cool spring air of Phoenix, Oregon. It was a pleasant enough town. There wasn't anything too remarkable or distinguishing about it. The people treated them nicely and for once, they weren't staying in a motel.

Dad had rented a scrappy studio on the edge of town. But saying it was on the edge of town wasn't saying much, as that was only a few minutes away from the school and the center of town. The studio had once been a storage room for the house it sat behind. But the owner had spruced it up and put in some plumbing in order to rent it out for some extra money. His Dad had saved woman's son from an evil spirit a few years ago. Of course, she didn't know it was an evil spirit that had terrorized her son, but she was none the less grateful, and more than happy to house them rent free for as long as they needed it.

Sam had only met the woman once. She was kind, yet professional. She waved at him from her kitchen window as he passed on his way along the driveway that led to the garage and the small house next to it. He smiled politely as he walked by.

Just as he predicted, the impala was nowhere in sight. Dean had picked up a job at the closest auto shop and was working there as much as he could to earn some extra cash to keep them going. In the evenings, Dean either hung out at a bar on the street corner, hustling for cash, or found a girl to... do stuff with. He could count the number of times he had seen his brother in the past few weeks on one hand.

It had been a week since he last saw his dad. The man was hunting a werewolf in Roseburg. The full moon was tomorrow, so Sam didn't expect to see him for at least a few more days.

He pulled a key out of his front pocket and let himself into the house. The room was cramped. A queen sized bed took up one corner, while the kitchen and small dinner table took the other corner. A couch and TV set took up the part of the room closest to the front door. There were two other doors in the back of the room, one leading to a bathroom, the other to a closet.

The small room was a mess, but Sam was used to ignoring that fact. He usually straightened up on the weekends.

He set his backpack on the couch, took off his coat, and went straight for the refrigerator. He grabbed a piece of pizza and a can of soda and went back to the couch.

Dinner was served.

Once his hunger was satisfied, his thoughts turned to Stanford. He grabbed his math book from his backpack and flipped through it until he came to a small brochure embedded between the pages. On the cover was a picture of the campus, in all its academic glory. The sun shone brightly, the streets were lined with palm trees. It was heaven to him. And it was so much closer to becoming realty.

With a sigh, He put the brochure back in the book and turned the pages to tonight's homework assignment. He was about halfway done, when he heard the sound of what could only be his father's truck. He set his math book down on the couch and got up.

He peeked through the front door and saw his dad slowly get out of the truck. From what he could see, his dad was pretty roughed up. He had a bad bruise on the side of his head and a nasty looking scratch on his hand. His dad disappeared from view from a moment, only to reappear carrying his duffel bag. He wearily wiped his hand across his face before starting toward the front door.

Sam rushed to open it for him.

"Dad are you okay?" He asked anxiously.

His dad brushed by him.

"I'll live," he replied.

Sam closed the door.

"I thought the full moon wasn't until tomorrow?" he said.

John walked over to the bed and dropped his duffel on the ground beside it.

"This one transformed whenever it wanted," he answered. "I caught it returning to its home this morning."

John walked over the refrigerator and surveyed it contents.

Sam went over to the coffee table and grabbed his plate and empty can of soda. He took the plate to the sink and threw the soda in the trash. He watched as his dad grabbed some beer and walked toward the couch.

He stopped before he reached the couch and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Sam washed his plate as he listened in on the conversation.

"A wendigo?" he heard his dad mumble. "Two you say? Where in Montana?"

Sam put the dish in the drying rack and turned around, leaning against the counter.

"Yeah, I can leave tomorrow morning and have the boy's up there this weekend."

Sam's breath caught in his throat.

"Shouldn't take long with all of us after them," John laughed, then said his goodbyes, putting the phone back into the pocket of his coat.

John let out a big sigh.

"Looks like we're out of here."

Sam took a deep breath.

"You promised me we'd stay until the end of the semester."

John didn't look at Sam.

"I know," he shrugged his coat off his shoulders. "But people are dying Sam."

"They always are," Sam muttered angrily.

John threw his coat on the couch, sending Sam's math book falling to the floor.

"Don't start Sam," he said sharply, sitting down tiredly on the couch.

Sam clenched his fists.

"Yes, because this is all my fault," Sam said angrily staring at the back of his dad's head. "It's always my fault that you can't keep your word."

John lowered his head.

"We're going and that's final," He said sternly.

"To hell it isn't," Sam said. "There's only two months left and then I graduate. We leave now, I'll never be able to catch up."

"You always manage to," John said, bending down out of Sam's sight.

Sam frowned.

"I shouldn't have to."

John was quiet as he sat back up, looking at something in his hands. After a few moments he spoke.

"Stanford?" he questioned, turning around to face Sam.

Sam walked over and tried to take the brochure from his dad's hands, but John quickly moved out of his reach.

"You can't seriously be thinking about trying to apply there?" he said as if he thought Sam were joking.

Sam glared indignantly at John.

"Why not?"

For once John was almost smiling.

"Could you really see yourself spend your time with all those people who have no clue about what's really out there?" He said. "Not to mention, you'd never be able to afford it, let alone get in."

Sam's mouth dropped open.

"For your information I'm at the top of my class!" Sam said. "Despite our abnormal upbringing."

At this John's gaze turned icy.

"Your 'abnormal' upbringing kept you alive," he said pointing a finger at Sam.

"Dean kept me alive, no thanks to you," Sam sneered.

John turned to the brochure and started ripping it into tiny pieces.

"Don't you dare even think of applying," he said, throwing the pieces at Sam.

All Sam could see in that moment was red.

"I already did," he spat out. "And I got in... with a full ride."

John's eyes widened as a cold fury overtook his face.

"I guess it's too much to ask for you to be proud of me for once, huh?" Sam said, hurt in his eyes. "Mom would have been happy for me."

"You don't know that," John spat.

Sam narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, because you refuse to tell me anything about her, except that she died in my nursery."

John glared at him.

"Don't you dare talk about her like that," he said.

"Like what?" Sam said. "You're such a hypocrite."

For a moment, Sam thought his dad would explode in anger. But the moment came and went, and John dropped the subject.

"Does Dean know you applied?" John asked.

Sam shook his head.

John smirked and grabbed his coat as he stood up.

"Good luck with that," he said. "Dean will never let you go."

"Yes he will," Sam said defiantly. "You don't know Dean like I do."

John was standing at the front door.

"You tell yourself that Sammy."

Sam watched him go with a cold rage burning in his chest.