A/N: This story is an AU companion to my oneshot "The Art of Walking Away." You don't necessarily need to read that, but it's short, so go ahead. This will be a chaptered story.
A big thank you to everyone who reviewed the prequel, it was your insistence and kind words that encouraged me to write this.
Please enjoy.
A Long Winter's Night
By: Ada C. Eliana
Chapter 1
Summary: Two years, seven months, and 48 states he had searched for Sam. But he had no luck. After all, Sam was a Winchester, a hunter, and if he did not want to be found, then no one could find him.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing it for a while.
Another highway.
Just one more unending road; an endless stream of asphalt lay ahead of him, leading to places he probably did not want to see, and hunts he never really wanted to embark on anymore.
Just one more road to drive down alone; his cassettes playing too loud, but never loud enough to drown out his thoughts.
He should have found him by now. How could his kid brother disappear so effectively, and what had happened to him since?
He remembered that day back in the hospital in Missouri with shocking clarity; waking up to find his father beside him, but not the person he wanted to see most. When John had spoken those words "…he's gone. He left. For good," he felt the floor fall out from under him. Sam's note had not done much to assuage the growing fear and guilt within him; it sounded too much like his brother was saying goodbye; forever. And goddammit if he was going to do that he should very well have done it in person so Dean could've talked some sense into him; stopped him, made him see that what he was doing was stupid.
Because Sam didn't get to decide that; he couldn't just decide to leave and never see them again. Sam was trying to be a martyr, taking off after the demon so that his family would be safe. But what family was there with Sam gone now?
His father?
That was a joke.
He never knew if John had read Sam's note; at the time he had been too shocked to even ask, and John never volunteered the information. John left the hospital immediately to search for Sam, and as much as Dean wanted to go with him, he still needed time in the hospital to recover. His father managed to track the youngest member of their family from the nearest bus station to Topeka, Kansas, and then lost his trail. Apparently Sam had opted against taking another bus, either staying in Topeka or going off on foot; hitchhiking, city buses, using whatever means necessary to disappear.
That had been two years ago.
No one had seen or heard from him since.
Freezing rain spattered the windshield as Dean drove, following the white line as far as it would stretch. He flicked the wipers on absentmindedly and stared at the taillights in front of him as he passed a sign that announced, "Welcome to New York, the Empire State".
Two years, seven months, and 48 states he had searched for Sam. He never did make it out to Alaska or Hawaii, but rather doubted that his brother would have been there. He went so far as to call Sam's Stanford friend, Rebecca, in case he had been in touch with anyone from that crowd. But he had no luck. After all, Sam was a Winchester, a hunter, and if he did not want to be found, then no one could find him.
Dean searched and searched, but in the end he knew it was pointless. And in a way, not knowing could be a blessing. That way, he could hold on to hope; hope that Sam was alive and all right, and that he would come back to him soon.
Because the alternative… Dean just could not let himself dwell on that; the thought that Sam had been killed, perhaps gone up in a blaze of fire, and he would never see him again. Either that or he had fallen prey to the demon's "plans," whatever they were.
No, that was unacceptable, Sam would be back, he would find Dean.
Two years worth of anger roiling around inside of Dean made him bitter and impossibly different.
He hated Sam for leaving.
He hated his father for ever tracking the demon; for ever finding that gun; and more than anything, for ever having introduced Sam to hunting.
He hated himself for getting Sam at Stanford and pulling him back into that life.
And he hated that damn demon for doing this to his family.
Because maybe if Sam hadn't left they could have stayed together.
And maybe if his father never became a hunter then the demon would have left them alone.
And maybe if he never went to Stanford the demon would never have come for Jessica.
And maybe if that demon never killed Mary, then they could have all been together still.
Too many goddamn maybes and even Dean knew he was deluding himself.
In a small way, he was even angry that he had stopped Sam from killing their father and the demon that night in the cabin. He would have lost his father, but he would still have Sam. And now he had no one.
He never saw John again after the hospital in Missouri. He spoke to him on the phone once or twice in the beginning, but they were combing the country for Sam, from opposite ends. He remembered how tight John's jaw had been when they parted ways; how angry his tone had become. And though he tried, he couldn't tell if John was angry with the demon or with Sam. After all, Sam had taken the only chance John had of exacting his ultimate revenge. But shouldn't a father care more about his son than his mission?
Not John Winchester apparently.
During their last conversation though, Dean realized that he and his father had truly parted ways. John told him to give up on the search for Sam and get some work done. Dean had hung up on his father and never called him back.
Dean shook his head violently and forced himself to focus on "Highway to Hell" as it blared through his speakers.
Highway to hell… how apt.
Too apt.
He reached forward and ejected the tape, tossing it on the passenger seat and pushing in some Metallica instead.
He ran the latest case through his mind; a series of disappearances at a small prestigious college in upstate New York, that he had to admit, did not sound supernatural-related in the least, but he would check it out anyway. It's not like he had anything else to do.
A/N: I would love to know what you thought. Longer chapters to follow coming soon...
-A.C.E.