Title: The Calm Before the Storm
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Timeline: Pre-series. Sam 15, Dean 19
The roads outside were slick with winter rain and melted snow. The night was cold and dark; not even the moon shone through the dark gray clouds. The night air was still and quiet, signifying the calm before the storm.
Dean Winchester was thankful for the peace. Like the weather outside, the inside of the Impala was quiet, a change from mere minutes ago when his father and Sammy were, once again, shouting, engaging in a battle that neither could win. His dad was driving, focused intently on the road in front of him, with the unmistakable look of anger painted on his face. Sammy, sitting next to him in the back, arms crossed over his chest, had the same look. They looked so alike that Dean had to roll his eyes and hide the grin on his face.
After a few minutes, when neither his dad nor his brother gave into the silence, Dean sighed and looked out of the window. As they passed a big green sign, he read, 'Fortville, 360 miles.' Great. Another few hours of driving. Normally his dad would get them there in no time, speed limits be damned, but tonight was different. Tonight, in the stormy winter weather, one wrong move behind the wheel could be fatal.
"So, which one of you is gonna cave first," Dean asked finally, tired of the silence. When nobody answered, he looked to his little brother. "I don't know, dad. Usually you're the king of stubbornness, but I think Sammy's gonna give you a run for your money. I mean, look at him with his arms crossed. I swear he's as pouty as a chick sometimes."
His comment earned him an angry glare from his brother. "Shut up, Dean," Sam said, his voice laced with anger and annoyance.
Dean was quiet for a moment, then said quietly, "Sorry, Samantha."
Apparently Dean's attempt to lighten the mood had not worked, when Sammy retorted with, "At least I have the guts to stand up to dad."
"Come on, Sam, lighten up," he replied.
"No, Dean. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of his attitude," Sammy said, his voice rising, though Dean had heard nearly the exact words numerous times. "You can't really believe he's doing what's best for us by making us come here."
"I don't want to hear another word from either of you," Dean was cut off by John's angry voice. "I need to concentrate on the road," he said, in a more calm voice.
"Sorry Sir," Dean replied. Both boys were quiet now. Dean glared at his brother. He couldn't really blame Sam for being upset. After all, he had a life where they lived too. But he thought Sam would be used to it by now; having to move all of the time, having to leave behind everything they'd gained in their short time of residency. It wasn't fair.
But then Dean thought of his dad again. He couldn't really blame him either. After all, he was a hero; always battling the evil things that lurked in the dark. And it was pretty hard to do that if you had to stay in one place. Dean figured that was only half the reason his dad and Sam always butted heads. The other half was the chosen life for him. Ever since Dean could remember, he wanted to be a hunter like his dad; wanted to please him. He was elated the first time he was allowed to go hunting with him. But Sam; Sam was different. He didn't want this life and he didn't have to say it; anyone who spent just a few minutes with him could tell that he had plans of his own. He was a smart kid and part of Dean wanted him to pursue his own life. He wanted his little brother to have everything that he wanted. But he also knew what kind of danger was out there. And how would he be able to protect him is he wasn't around? Unfortunately, Sam didn't see it that way and their dad would refuse to explain it such a manner.
And there was the problem. Sam wasn't arguing with their dad because they were moving. They were never really yelling about the trivial things that they seemed to be yelling about. They were fighting because of what Sam wanted- of different life. And they all knew, deep down inside, that soon, there would be a storm. The fight that would end all of their fights. They were still experiencing the calm before the storm.
After a few minutes of thought, Dean whispered to Sam, "Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry we have to move again. I know you had friends and everything and you were doing well in school."
"It's not your fault Dean. You shouldn't have to apologize for him," Sam replied. He looked towards Dean and smiled. "But thanks."
"No problem, Samantha."
And now Dean could rest easy, knowing that, at least for now, the storm was over.
Sam didn't know when he'd drifted off to sleep. He awoke to the sound of falling rain. He opened his eyes, but could see nothing but a thick fog illuminated by the Impala's headlights. He couldn't help but think of how much it just plain sucked that he had to be out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but trees, rain, and fog, when he could be at home, reading a book or hanging out with his friends.
"Dad?" He heard Dean's voice. "Where are you going?"
"I must've missed the turnoff in the fog. We need to find a place to stop for awhile. The weather's too bad to drive in."
"What?" Sam asked, just waking up from his sleep. "But you promised we'd get there tonight."
"Sam, the weather is just too bad. It's raining and I can't see more than a few feet in front of me."
It was true. The weather was bad. Sam knew that they really shouldn't be driving in this weather. But if they had left earlier like he had suggested…. "This never would have happened if you'd just listened to me for once."
"I told you we should have left earlier, but like always you-"
"Sam, I don't need to hear it right now. I am your father. You listen to what I say and you follow my orders," John replied, a little too loudly, and a little too angrily.
"Well, this pretty much proves your orders aren't always cracked up to what they're supposed to be."
Sam knew, before he saw the look on his dad's face, before he heard the sigh that Dean let out, that he had said the wrong thing.
"I am sick and tired of your constant disregard for-"
"Dad!" Dean yelled as the car swerved suddenly, heading off the road, and straight toward a small ditch filled with trees and snow.
The weather outside was no longer calm, though the three Winchesters inside of the car were unmoving; silent.