Chapter 11: Someday came today

Sam sat outside, his back against the wall of their temporary house. The impala and his dad's monster of a truck were parked in front of him. The sun was starting to set. He had a book open in his lap, but he wasn't reading it. Instead, he had his head tilted back against the wall with his eyes closed, just taking in the warm weather.

The world around him was calm and quiet. But inside the house behind him, he could hear movement. His dad and brother were packing up. They were about to leave this town behind and they couldn't wait to do it.

This had been the longest time they'd stayed put in a while. Sam had had the chance to see the seasons switch from spring to summer. It was amazing how much your life could change in just a few months. It was now June and he was a high school graduate. The wounds on his arms were now pale scars that would be with him for the rest of his life. His chest was also a mess. His shirtless days were over at the tender age of 18. He smirked in the sunlight.

He thought of the day he woke up in the hospital.

It was two days after the debacle in the forest. Contrary to his initial thoughts that his wounds weren't enough to kill him, he'd actually died twice on the table. Turned out the combination of emotional trauma and blood loss pushed his body to the limit. But thanks to modern technology, he pulled through.

Lucky for him, he thought sarcastically.

The first face he'd seen was his uncharacteristically emotional father. His dad had been about as beside himself as Sam had ever seen. He hadn't shaved in who knows how long and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked absolutely shattered.

When he'd realized Sam was awake he quickly stood.

"Sam," he said softly.

That one word and all the emotion behind it, made tears fall from Sam's eyes. It was amazing how his dad could say so much, while practically saying nothing at all.

It was also amazing how quickly things could turn back to the way they were, back to the fighting, the harsh words, and constant insults and taunts.

Just a week after getting gout of the hospital, he was training once again. His dad seemed to think that getting back to work was the key to a full recovery. Maybe for him, but not for Sam. Soon he was back in school, and catching up on his homework. The schedule drove him crazy, but it kept him busy and allowed him to get away from his overbearing family.

A couple of weeks later dad left on a hunt. It was typical and Sam had seen it coming from a mile away. What he hadn't seen, was Dean leaving to join their dad, a few days later.

The first time he'd seen Dean at the hospital, his brother was full of tearful apologies. There were no upbeat reassurances, no teasing jokes, and no quips about the nurses. Only guilty admissions and heavy silences.

No matter how much Sam told him he forgave him, Dean refused to forgive himself and Sam couldn't live with that. Forgiving didn't mean forgetting, but Dean seemed to think Sam wanted to brush the whole experience under the rug. He constantly was bringing it up. And while Sam wasn't trying to bury the whole thing deep within his mind, it wasn't something he wanted to be reminded about, over and over. He'd explained that, but all it did was dim the light in Dean's eyes every time he looked at Sam.

In one of their less tense interactions, Dean had given him back his knife. It was a long time coming and it helped Sam to feel safer and more like himself.

Meanwhile, Cooper was declared criminally insane and sent to the state hospital.

Sam himself was slowly coming to terms with everything that had happened. He'd accepted the way he felt about his life and how easily he could be tempted to end it all. It was his fatal flaw, but he had hopes it wouldn't always be that way. One thing he knew for sure, was that he was never going to get past this bump in the road, by staying with his family.

Staying would break them apart.

Dad would break his spirit.

Dean would drown him in guilt and he'd never be able to forgive himself for his perceived failure.

And Sam would never be allowed to forget what he had almost done.

He hadn't told Dad or Dean about his intention to let himself die at the hands of the werewolf. They simply thought he was hurt while trying to kill the beast. He knew that if he stayed, somewhere down the road he would be driven to risk his life again. And he might just succeed.

The thought scared him more than he was willing to admit.

With a sad sigh, Sam pushed himself up off the ground. Time was ticking. He walked back inside the dwelling and shut the door behind him.

If someone was standing outside, they would have heard the sound of a breaking glass, loud yelling, and the sound of something being thrown against a wall.

Minutes later the door opened again.

Sam's face was streaked with tears as the door slammed shut behind him. He was now carrying a backpack on his back. In his hands he held a coat and an envelope. It had come from Pastor Jim. Inside was a bus ticket to Palo Alto, California leaving in two hours.

"If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back!"

Well Sam had done just that. Now he was on his own. He almost hoped Dean would come running out of the house begging him to stay. But nothing happened. Sam bit his lip as he took one last look at the impala, then started walking.

This could very well be the last time they all saw each other... alive. He knew his absence wouldn't stop his dad and brother from hunting. If anything they would only throw themselves deeper into it. Eventually their luck would run out. And he would probably never know until long after it happened with the nomad lifestyle his family favored.

He looked at the sky and prayed to a God he wasn't sure existed, that his his family would stay safe. And that someday, somehow he'd be able to make things right with them .

Right now, he could see how that would ever happen. All he could do was put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.