His father's voice mail message burned in Dean's stomach. The man was obviously all right enough to change his voice mail message but why in the hell wasn't he all right enough to call him and let him know he was okay? Was he really that horrible of a son that his own father didn't want to contact him anymore? Dean had the slight notion that if Sam had been the one to stay behind and he went to college no one would have noticed or cared. He suspected that John Winchester wouldn't have left Sam like a hot rock and refused to answer his phone calls. He would have taken Sam along. Wouldn't have just left a voice message letting other people know his son's phone number so they could get in contact with him to take care of their two bit supernatural problems.
Because when it boiled right down to it, Dean knew that their dad was going after the big bad, the one that took out his mom. And Dean felt like he had a right to be there when it was taken down. He had given up his life to fight against evil in this world because of that one single evil son of a bitch. And now it had taken both of his parents away from him, and it was only a matter of time before it took Sammy from him as well. This time when Sammy left, he wouldn't be around anymore. One bullet to the head should do it. No reason to keep going when no one cares that you are alive.
"You okay Dean?" Sam asked from the passenger's seat. Dean had been extraordinarily quiet since they left the air strip. Dean startled almost imperceptibly but Sam noticed it. They had been back together for a couple of months and all of the signals that Dean gave, from the slight jerk of his eyes towards a sound to the tightening of shoulder muscles, were again telling Sam the story of his brother and his emotional state. It was like riding a bike, granted different bike, but he could still read his brother.
"I'm fine Sam." That tone of fine meant that it wasn't fine but with a little prompting he would at least share what the problem is.
"I don't believe you."
"I don't care what you believe."
"Dean. Is it about the phone message?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"So it is."
"Sam." Dean said exasperated.
"Don't do that Dean. Don't shut me out."
"Then respect my wishes and don't bring it up." Sam looked out the window and realized that this was one of the differences in the bike. It was a lot more rusty, and it wasn't quite as responsive to brother puppy looks. Sam watched the scenery pass his window while he tried to figure out a new tactic.
"I think he treats you like shit." Sam announced. Dean's big green eyes, eyes that always told exactly what he was thinking no matter how much he tried to hide it, rolled to Sam.
"What are you talking about Sammy? Dad doesn't treat me like shit." Sam didn't look at his brother. He decided that if he made this conversation look off handed that he would get more out of his brother.
"I think he does. I mean, you, the perfect soldier, always does exactly what Dad says, and he ditches you. That's a pretty shitty way to treat one of your soldiers. You don't deserve to be treated like that."
"He must have had a good reason."
"But then why can't he call you and let you know that he is okay? But he can change his voice mail to tell people how to get a hold of you."
"He must have a good reason." Dean repeated.
"Dean. You deserve to be treated better."
"I'm being treated how I've been treated my whole life."
"That's not true."
"Of course it's not. How much farther to the next town Sam?"
"Not too far." Sam said with a sigh. He thought about the message again and something clicked. "I think you've been promoted." Sam said suddenly.
Dean sighed in exasperation. "What in the hell are you talking about Sam."
"You aren't the soldier anymore. You're the Captain. The general put you in charge. And he is sending you to the front to save lives." Sam said quietly.
Dean looked at his brother for a second and realized that Sam was right and it suddenly made things a little better.