I know the big fight between Sam and John has been written many different times in many different ways, but I really wanted to try it, as well! I hope you all enjoy it, and feel free to favorite and review! ;) Reviews are almost as good as donuts. Almost.

I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I just wrote this to get the plot bunnies out of my head!

I stand in the crappy hotel bathroom, looking at my reflection in the mirror, thinking of all the things I'll do, everything I'll learn, the life I'm going to create for myself.

Of course, that is still two weeks away. And then there's the issue of Dad and what he'll say when I tell him that I'm leaving to go to study at Stanford. I know he won't understand why I'm leaving him and Dean and the life of hunting to live a normal life. No, he won't even try to understand. He'll just try to command me to stay, like the good little soldier he's tried to raise me to be.

"Dean, do you have extra salt in your bag? I don't have enough to finish lining the windows," Dad's voice calls out. I roll my eyes. He knows we ganked all the demons in town and he's still being overly cautious.

"No, I still need to refill mine," Dean replies casually.

"You should have done that the moment we got back from the hunt," Dad says in the usual demanding tone.

"I had to make sure Sam was okay!" I hear Dean's voice reply incredulously. I look down at my forearm, where the demon got in a nice cut with her knife before Dad exercised her. Dean didn't have to worry about it at all, it isn't any worse than other injuries we've gotten on hunts. But he was looking after me, like always. I can't help but sigh a little at that - sometimes I feel like all Dean sees when he looks at me is his baby brother.

"Oh, he was fine. You can't let your guard down like that. You should never be without salt to protect yourself - that's a grade one hunter rule, Dean. Careless mistakes like that are what get you killed. Am I clear?"

There's a short pause before Dean replies. "Yes Sir." I clench my fists in irritation. Why does Dean take this crap from Dad? Why does he always have to be Daddy's good little soldier? I'm sick of all of it: the orders, the danger, the long car rides, everything. "I think Sam has some salt in his duffel," Dean adds, and I look up from the sink in surprise. Dad can't go looking in my bag - that's where my Stanford acceptance letter is!

"At least one of you is prepared," Dad grumbles even as I'm rushing for the bathroom door. I enter the main room with its two sagging king sized beds and stained carpet to see Dad rummaging in my duffel on mine and Dean's bed.

"I can get it," I say hurriedly, pushing past Dean to get to Dad.

"I think I can find it, Sam," Dad says, signs of irritation clear in his tone.

"Here, just let me -" I insist, reaching out for my duffel bag.

Dad pushes my hand away, fixing me with a pointed look that clearly says 'stop it' in itself. I take a step back, eyes fixed intently on Dad's hands digging into the bag, hoping against hope that he won't find the letter.

"I was about to pick up some burgers, Sammy," Dean cuts into the awkward moment, catching my attention. "What do you want?"

"It's Sam, Dean. Sammy is a little kid, which I'm not anymore," I say pointedly, fixing Dean with a sour look. "And I'll just have a salad."

"Nah, you'll always be a little kid to me, Sammy!" Dean winks in reply to my eye roll.

"You should eat more meat, Sam," Dad remarks, and I look back in time to see him pull my salt bag out of the mess of clothes that I never have time to organize. Just as I think I'm in the clear, the letter tumbles out of the duffel and onto the bristly carpet.

"What's that?" Dad asks in surprise. We never get mail. When the credit card bills start to stack up we ditch that I.D. and switch to a new one.

In an instant I reach down and snatch the letter up, making sure to hide the Stanford logo printed on the front. "Nothing. Just an old letter from a girl a couple years back," I lie quickly.

Dean laughs, reaching out for the letter. "Sammy had a girlfriend? This I gotta see!"

"No!" I protest instinctively, pulling my hand further away. "No," I repeat in a more level tone. "Haven't you ever heard of privacy?"

"Doesn't exist in our family, little brother. Let me have it!" Dean laughs as he manages to catch my arm and pull the letter closer. I pull away even as my heart pounds in worry of what will happen if Dad finds out. I know it has to happen eventually, but I was thinking that maybe I could hang off on that until at least next week.

"Come on Sam, you said it was a while ago, right? You can't still be pining after whoever this girl is," I can hear the smile in Dad's voice, but I can't smile back.

In that brief moment of distraction Dean snags the letter, dancing away triumphantly. "Yahtzee!" He exclaims in victory. He suddenly stops when he looks down at the neat print on the envelope, and I know I'm screwed.

"Oh come on, Dean, what is it?" Dad asks incredulously as he passes us to finish the salt line on the windowsill.

"N-nothing. Just this girl is out of Sammy's league, is all," Dean replies weakly, even as he turns to give me a confused look. And yes, that is hurt in his eyes. My heart clenches in regret. I know he's hurt because I didn't tell him - didn't even let on - that I was considering college. I am thankful that he isn't telling Dad, because we both know that he'll freak out on me and it will start a whole new huge fight. And Dean always hates it when Dad and I fight.

Dean holds the letter out to me, eyes directed at the floor. I try to gulp down the lump in my throat, but it refuses to leave as I reach to reclaim the letter.

"What is that?" Dad asks suddenly, and I grab the letter hurriedly, hiding it once again, before looking to him. My heart sinks when I see his finger pointing to where the envelope was a moment ago.

"I told you," I reply quickly, shaking my head, "it's a letter from a girl -"

"With a big logo on it?"

"Dad, I don't see what the problem is -" Dean cuts in, stepping forward with arms outstretched.

"The problem is," Dad interrupts, "that Sam is obviously hiding something important from me, and I want to know why."

"Because you have to have complete control of my life," I can't help but snap, anger beginning to bubble inside me.

"Sam," Dean warns in a low voice.

"Stay out of this," Dad and I snap at the same time, both not looking at Dean.

"Give me the letter," Dad demands, sticking his hand out expectantly.

I stand my ground. "No."

"I'm not asking," Dad replies testily.

"And I don't care," I spit back at him.

"Sam, give me the letter right now or I swear -"

"What?" I laugh back without humor. "What will you do? Send me to time out? Ground me? I'm eighteen, Dad, so don't treat me like I'm still a kid! You can't control me! I'm a big boy now, and can make grown up decisions. I can make a life for myself, like you know I've always wanted!' I take a deep breath before plowing on. 'I can go to college if I want to, and leave hunting behind and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"College?" Dad demands, taking a step forward. "You're trying to go to college?"

"I'm not trying to, I'm going to!" I shout at him, brandishing the letter so he can see the large Stanford logo printed on the front. "I got accepted into Stanford months ago!"

"Months?" Dean echoes, hurt evident in his voice.

But I don't take my eyes off of Dad's shocked face, and eyes flickering in anger. "You know I won't pay for you to go to Stanford. And you know you can't afford it without my help."

I take a step closer to him, and am pleased to be reminded that I'm taller than him. Surely he can't deny that I'm a man now. "You know, you would be right, except for the fact that I got a full ride! I don't need my daddy's blessing to help me get out of here."

"You got a full ride to Stanford?" Dean asks incredulously.

"That can't be true," Dad argues, shaking his head. "You only took the ACT once and you got a 20!"

"I knew I couldn't tell you the truth; knew you would never support me in this. I didn't even have to contact Stanford - they emailed me! A lot of schools did, but I got to pick and choose. I only got a few actual letters before we moved out of Utah and they didn't know where to find me. My inbox was full, though. And why in the world would I turn down a fully paid scholarship to Stanford?" I just want Dad to listen to me for once! To try to understand the life I've wanted for so long: a life far, far away from the insanities of hunting.

"You should have turned it down because taking it would mean abandoning your family!" Dad shouts, glaring up at me. "You know family is the only thing we've got! Your mother -"

"- Would have wanted me to take the scholarship!" I bellow, all patience gone. I'm done trying to gain Dad's approval, done with the constant battle of trying to be a good son.

"You can't just walk out on family just because you're too weak to handle what we do -"

"- Dad, Sam, stop it!" Dean yells, trying to come between us, only to be roughly shoved away by Dad.

"Oh, so now I'm weak?" I seethe, looking Dad dead in the eyes. "You know if I were in any other family they would be celebrating this!"

"We don't choose our family, boy!"

"Obviously not, or you would have two perfect soldiers instead of one!"

"Now hold on a minute!" Dean protests, but now it's my turn to push him away.

"You know," I continue, outraged. "I'm glad Mom's not here, because she would hate the man you've become!"

Even considering how furious Dad is, I'm not prepared for the powered punch to the face that he lands, making me stagger back, almost falling down as I hold my throbbing jaw. "Don't you dare talk about your mother that way, boy!" Dad growls.

"Dad, no!" Dean bellows, grabbing Dad's arm and forcing him away from me.

"Get off of me, Dean," Dad orders in a tone that would usually have made Dean cower. But he doesn't, instead standing his ground.

"No way! You're not laying a hand on Sam, Dad!"

"You will do as I say -"

"No sir," Dean retorts, placing himself between Dad and I.

"We're not dogs, Dad," I interject, glaring at him with all the anger I've been piling up over the years. "We won't just go running because you tell us fetch -"

"Shut up, Sammy!" Dean shouts, pointing at my chest. "Both of you just need to calm down!"

"You're pathetic!" I spit at Dad over Dean's shoulder.

"I'm not the one trying to abandon my family!" Dad bellows, eyes wide in anger.

"I don't want to be part of this family anymore! I want my own life! I want to be normal!"

"We can never be normal. You can't just flip a switch; go off to college and have everything else disappear! Do you think the things we hunt will just leave you alone because you quit? You're a Winchester! You can never be normal! You can't ever escape this life: demons, spirits, and every other supernatural thing you can think of will find you!"

"You're wrong!" I shout back, forcing away the tears that threaten to come. He's lying. He's just trying to make you stay. "You're just trying to control me - keep me on my leash like all these years!" I storm over to the bed and throw my duffel bag over my shoulder. "You can keep the salt," I sneer. "I won't need it anymore." I don't even glance at him to see his reaction: I just make a beeline for the door.

"Sammy, no, please!" Dean says all in a rush, running over to me and grabbing my bag, pulling me back. "Just calm down, alright?" He begs, taking a deep breath to slow himself. "Just think about this -"

"I've been thinking about this for months, Dean," I shake my head, pulling my duffel out of his grasp. I look pleadingly into his eyes, just wanting him to understand. "Look...You could come with me. I mean, not go to Stanford, but we could rent an apartment, get out of all this hunting crap."

"Sam..."

"You walk out that door, don't you ever come back!" Dad's voice breaks through the conversation like a knife, making my blood boil.

"He doesn't mean that, Sammy -" Dean insists, reaching for my arm again, but I pull away.

"Yeah, he does." I don't look back as I wrench the door open and storm out. My heart aches at the knowledge that I won't see Dean anymore, but I want Stanford too much to let this chance at freedom go.

I flinch as Dad slams the motel door behind me.

You walk out that door, don't you ever come back.

No need to worry about that, Dad; you won't ever have to see me again.