What I Did On Summer Vacation

Written by Sendintheclowns and Gidgetgal9

Summary: A tag to After School Special. A look at Sam's time in Mr. Wyatt's class and the paper he wrote for his teacher.

A/N: This story is dedicated to Floralia for the occasion of her birthday. Happy Birthday Girl! I want to thank Sendintheclowns for agreeing to write this with me. She is the best!

A/N: Happy Birthday Floralia! I'm too far away to bake you a cake so I hope you'll accept this story in lieu of a sweet treat. A big thank you to Gidgetgal9 for the fantastic plot bunny and letting me write with her. And also Floralia—thanks for doing the beta on your own story. It seems kind of mean of us but also seems somehow right.

Andrew Wyatt was excited about his third year teaching ninth grade English. He was teaching in the school he had attended as a high school student, which hadn't been that long ago. Andrew loved his hometown and the people in it so that made teaching here the perfect job.

Three days into the new year he felt he had a pretty good feel for all his kids. Well except for one, Sam Winchester. Sam had started his class today. The child was quiet and unsure like most new students but there was almost a haunted look in those young eyes that shouldn't have been there, especially for someone so young.

After class, Mr. Wyatt had stopped Sam to give him the make-up assignments from the two classes he had missed. It had been an eye opening encounter.

"Sam, if you have a minute, I'll fill you in on what you've missed so far." Mr. Wyatt smiled as Sam nodded and stopped by his desk.

"So the first day of class we just got to know each other by writing a brief one page biography. You know your likes, dislikes that sort of thing. And the second day of class I had the kids write a two to three page paper summarizing their summer vacation. That's the paper they turned in today. But since you are playing catch up you can wait and get it in on Friday or Monday if you need the extra time. Any questions?"

Mr. Wyatt had watched as Sam's expression went from open interest to shutting down on him. Sam was now standing looking at his feet.

"No sir." Sam replied quietly.

Mr. Wyatt hadn't been teaching long but he knew that some kids didn't always have the apple pie life he had had as a kid and he was concerned that Sam hadn't had a good summer vacation, thus the shutdown. That thought inspired him to try something different.

"Hey Sam, the summer vacation assignment is one I use basically to get an idea on my students writing styles, their strengths and weaknesses so that I can work with them to help them improve over the year. So, if your summer wasn't much to write about I won't care if you exaggerate or use a little creative license to spice it up." Mr. Wyatt watched as Sam lifted his head deep in thought.

"Okay, thanks Mr. Wyatt." The small smile that Sam gave him was enough to make Mr. Wyatt's day.

His encounter with Sam had brought him to ponder over said child during his prep period. He really felt that the more he knew about Sam, the better he could help bring the kid out of his shell. With that in mind he headed down to the office to see if he could retrieve Sam's file.

Mrs. Summers, the office secretary, hadn't filed Sam's paperwork away yet, and happily handed it over to Mr. Wyatt.

Mrs. Summer was the school gossip and couldn't wait to share her thoughts on Sam's family.

"That child seems so quiet and boy was his father a stern one. But then, he probably has his hands full with the older brother, Dean I think is his name. Leather jacket wearing punk, with a chip on his shoulder. Typical trouble maker."

Normally Mr. Wyatt would have made his excuses and ran out of the room to be spared her 'opinions' but with wanting to collect information on Sam, he knew her insight might be helpful.

"What grade is Dean in?" Mr. Wyatt asked as he took the paper work from Mrs. Summer.

"A senior if he makes it." Mrs. Summer replied with a smirk. "He's already been sent to see Mr. Workman today."

"I see. Well thanks for the file." Mr. Wyatt blurted out and made a beeline for the office door before Mrs. Summer could impart anymore of her opinions on him.

Once safely back in his room, Mr. Wyatt opened Sam's file. He wasn't shocked to find that Sam was a straight A student. What he was shocked to find was how many times the kid had changed schools. Mr. Wyatt knew that some jobs made parents travel but this seemed a bit excessive.

But then it all clicked. Sam was the product of a single parent home, and the mother was listed as deceased.

Where most families had someone to hold down fort while the other traveled with their job, this family did not. A family life like this would of course lead to issues with any child. No wonder Mr. Winchester had a trouble maker older son and a withdrawn younger child.

Not that Mr. Wyatt was passing judgment on the father. He couldn't imagine raising two kids on your own and he was sure that the father was doing his best.

Sighing, Mr. Wyatt realized now why Sam was so closed down at the thought of writing about summer vacation. He doubted poor Sam had the opportunity to have a normal vacation like the other kids in Mr. Wyatt's class.

Closing Sam's file, Mr. Wyatt promised himself to work extra hard to reach this student, to make a difference.


The next day of class was not that different from the previous, especially when it came to Sam. He was still quiet and withdrawn but when class ended he did stop at Mr. Wyatt's desk.

Giving Sam a reassuring smile, Mr. Wyatt spoke. "What can I do for you Sam?"

Sam gave him a serious expression as he held out some papers. "I have my make-up work to turn in."

"Ahh, wow, that's great Sam. I look forward to reading them."

Mr. Wyatt was pleased by the shocked look and smile he received in return for his comments.

"Thank you sir." Sam gave him a shy smile and nodded as he headed out the door.


It was the end of the day and Mr. Wyatt normally used his half hour at school to prepare for the next day, but today he had a more pressing matter. The papers that Sam had written were sitting on his desk just waiting to be read.

Mr. Wyatt had a feeling that by reading them he would gain an insight to the mystery that was Sam Winchester, and hopefully with that knowledge he could reach Sam and make a difference in the kids life.


The first assignment was on top and not long so he started with it.

My name is Sam Winchester. I am fourteen years old and I live with my father, John, and my older brother, Dean. My mom died when I was a baby so I don't remember her.

Our life is pretty simple. Dad works as a mechanic and used to have his own business but after mom's death that changed and now we move as he finds work. He does his best to support us but moving so much can make life challenging.

Dean is really my support. He has always been there for me and I appreciate having such an awesome big brother even if he can be a jerk sometimes.

As for me, I'm still struggling to figure things out. I like school and so far school- it's my niche. Dean has nicknamed me Geek-boy and I guess he's right. I like to learn things.

Reading is one of my favorite hobbies though I do like to play soccer if I get the chance.

That about sums up my life. It's not exactly normal but it's mine.

Mr. Wyatt sighed as he put down Sam's paper. This was a smart kid stuck in a world that revolved around his father. He hated that because it would make it a bigger challenge for Sam to break away to find himself.

Laying that paper down he picked up the next. This one was much longer.

What I Did On Summer Vacation by Sam Winchester


Dean was convinced Sam had his AC/DC t-shirt stashed in his room. The kid had been wearing the t-shirt Dean had given him under his flannel shirt this morning—a Led Zeppelin tee so shrunken and full of holes that Dean had begrudging given it to Sam. But the AC/DC t-shirt was Dean's prized possession. It was actually pretty cute how Sam tried to emulate everything Dean did, down to his clothing, and Dean would be lying if he said he didn't get a kick out of it. But the white lettering on the black background with the lightning bolt between AC and DC and the words Back in Black beneath it…that was too cool for the likes of his little pipsqueak brother so Dean was going boldly where no man had gone lately—into the bag that held Sam's geeky things.

Pulling the items one by one out of Sam's duffel bag, Dean had to shake his head as set them on the bed. Two pairs of rolled up jeans, tiny in comparison to the size Dean wore. Two flannel shirts and some white t-shirts. Small briefs fluttered out of the rolled up clothing and Dean refused to pick those up; touching Sam's underwear was too weird, never mind that Dean had once changed his diapers. There was a book on hypnotism along with a book about ghosts, vampires and werewolves.

Then came the smaller stuff. Some Indian arrowheads the brothers had found on the shores of Lake Geneva; Dean had thought those had been left behind years ago. A lavender stone set in silver on a long chain—very girly, but then Dean remembered Bobby had used something similar to hypnotize Dean once, made him run around like a dog or something, so Sam having one made some sort of weird sense. Especially in conjunction with the book on hypnotism. Dean would have to be on the alert so that Sam didn't try to whammy Dean in the future.

Dean thrust his hand deep into the bag and his fingers brushed the folds of papers. He extracted the last item, two folded up sheets of paper. He sighed deeply. No AC/DC t-shirt.

His curiosity got the better of him and Dean unfolded the notebook paper, smoothing it out.

What I Did On Summer Vacation by Sam Winchester

Great. This looked like one of Sam's class assignments. The one Sam had mentioned he'd done for his new English teacher. The cursive was crisp and the paper double spaced. There were corrections in Sam's neat hand writing so there was no mistaking it was a draft. Dean skimmed through the last page and a certain word jumped out at him. Werewolf. Settling on the edge of the bed, Dean decided he'd better read the paper. It wasn't like it was in a diary or anything. If Sam hadn't wanted someone to read it then he should have thrown it out.

It looked like I was going to spend yet another summer at my Uncle Bobby's in South Dakota. My dad and brother had dropped me off at his place so they could go on a hunting trip. I thought I was old enough to go with them but when I'd opened my mouth to ask if I could go along, my dad had quirked his eyebrow and pulled his lips into a tight frown that let me know that he didn't care what I thought. Luckily I like staying with Uncle Bobby. He has a salvage yard which is fun to explore and, unlike my father, who thought all of my spare time should be spent on the archery or gun range, Uncle Bobby didn't care if I snuck off and read a book as long as I got my chores done. Pretty much he lets me be a kid which is nice once in a while, especially because he doesn't treat me like a baby.

Dean frowned. Sam wasn't really being fair to their dad. Their dad let Sam express his opinion all of the time, yet Sammy made it sound like their dad was close minded and didn't care what Sam thought. To Dean's way of thinking, their dad cared a little too much about what Sam thought. The old man never cared what Dean thought; just expected him to fall in line. It was a good thing his geeky little brother was such a good kid who did what Dean told him to, otherwise life would've sucked.

It was a surprise when I'd been there only two weeks and I came downstairs in the morning for some coffee to hear my dad, Uncle Bobby, and Dean yelling at each other. And I kept hearing my name which made me more than a little nervous. The only time my dad and Dean got mad at each other and yelled is when I did something wrong and Dean is sticking up for me. I wracked my brain but couldn't remember having done anything wrong. I hadn't even heard from my family in two weeks so it was a little mystifying. Especially when Uncle Bobby took Dean's side. Uncle Bobby usually called Dean an idjit behind his back; Dad said it was a term of endearment but when Uncle Bobby said it, it sounded more like he was calling Dean an idiot

Dean was a little hurt. Uncle Bobby called him an idiot behind his back? But their dad said it was an affectionate nickname and Dean would believe him over Sam any day, even if Sam was turning into some scary smart person. What bugged him more was that Sam thought the only time Dean and their dad fought was when Dean was trying to protect Sam. He knew that wasn't true.

He thought back to some of his more colossal mistakes—getting drunk with Melinda Sue last year and having the worst hangover ever along with pissing off her parents, skipping school to drag-race the Impala, and almost getting Sammy killed when he'd slipped out of the motel to play at the arcade while some shtriga went after Sam. He'd gotten a head-shake with a half smile (just don't get caught next time), a clap on the back (the Impala had won easily which meant money for groceries) and the I'm disappointed in you son speech (as if Dean had needed his dad to say it...it was his job to look after Sammy and he'd blown it).

Dean had hurt his ankle while hunting and Dad wanted me to go with him while Dean stayed with Uncle Bobby to recuperate. It was exciting because I'd wanted to go on this hunt but I was upset because Dean wouldn't be there with me. Dean could be a royal pain because he was always ordering me around but he always made things fun and he always took care of me. Dad made sure we had a roof over our head and stuff to eat but Dean made sure I had warm enough clothes and could get to the library to work on my school projects.

It had been his job to take care of Sam for so long that Dean didn't even think about it. It made his stomach feel all fluttery to know that Sam noticed and he even appreciated what Dean did for him.

Dean and Uncle Bobby said things like I wasn't coordinated enough and runty and Dad said it was time I got a little seasoning, that Dean had been much younger when he'd gone on his first hunt. It hurt when my dad compared me to Dean and found me lacking and that Dean could only see that I was small for my age but I knew if I was given half a chance I'd show them I could keep up. My dad won the argument and I was packed into the Impala while Dean hobbled on the front steps of Uncle Bobby's front porch looking forlorn.

Sam always had been self conscious about his lack of size but it wasn't Dean's fault the kid was tiny. Dean smirked. He'd once called his brother Sambelina, a take on Thumbelina, but Sammy hadn't been amused. In fact he'd refused to talk to Dean for a week. Talk about holding a grudge. The smirk faded. And Dean had been right; Sam hadn't been ready for the hunt.

The ride to Gitchie Manitou was just over four hours and my dad talked about what we would find and what I was supposed to do and how imperative it was that I listen to him at all times. Despite him treating me like a little kid, I was pretty excited. We were going to hike around the preserve to get the lay of the land and camp out. With a little luck we'd find our prey and head back to South Dakota in a couple of days. Of course Dad found fault with everything I did, from building the fire to pitching the tent, but I was so cold that night that it distracted me from feeling hurt about my dad's attitude.

Dean hadn't known anything about the build up to the hunt and he'd wished he did; he would have told Sam that Dad did the same thing to him. Although it bugged Dean that their dad hadn't noticed how cold Sam was and done something about it. Sam, despite Dean's teasing, wasn't one to complain, which kept Dean on his toes all of the time. Fortunately he could read Sam well so he knew when the kid was hungry or sick or cold or bored.

I was pretty miserable the next day until the sun warmed things up. Dad was pretty quiet and I knew enough to keep my distance; he was puzzling something out and he didn't need me yammering at him right now. We hiked around all day without anything to show for it and I was getting a little discouraged. Dad hadn't said anything to me in five hours and I was working up the courage to pull out the book on hypnotism out of my backpack that I had managed to slip in while "the adults" were arguing over whether or not I was too much of a liability to accompany my dad when it happened.

There was a snort from behind one of the Quartzite outcroppings and I froze in my tracks. My dad was scowling as he withdrew his gun, motioning to me to stay put. I could tell he was pissed that I was in the vicinity of the action by the way his shoulders were bunched tightly and his jaw was set rigidly. But I forced myself to stand still, focusing on my breathing, hoping I wouldn't screw this up.

There was a sound from behind my dad and he dropped down to his knee, arms extended, ready for something to burst out from behind the pink smooth colored bedrock. Instead, a rabbit sprinted by and my dad hung his head, the tension draining from his body. I started to slide my backpack to the ground, my legs pretty shaky, when I was tackled from the side.

I banged my head so hard against a rock that lights burst across my vision. I could hear three sets of voices which I found confusing, but I was a little too busy trying to keep the creature perched on my chest from taking a chunk out of me. It made a swipe at me and I felt my clothing tear. Dean was going to kill me; I was wearing his AC/DC t-shirt and I was pretty sure it was ruined. While I was planning how to replace Dean's shirt with some money I'd saved, my hand found a grapefruit sized chuck of rock and I jammed into the mouth of the snarling, snapping creature. Bits of broken teeth exploded in a shower over me to be replaced by blood as a single gunshot burrowed deep into the chest of the animal.

A silver bullet to the heart of the werewolf stopped the threat, killing it dead.

The weight on my chest made it hard to breathe and I thought I was going to pass out. Suddenly the heaviness was gone and my brother was leaning over me. "Dean? What are you doing here?"

My brother set back on his heels and grinned in the fading light of dusk. "You forgot your warm jacket and I thought you might be a little cold at night."

My dad loomed behind Dean, a hand gripping my brother's shoulder. "You did good, Sammy."

I had successfully completed my first hunt. I felt, for the first time ever, like I was officially a part of the family.

Sweat beaded across Dean's forehead at the memory of that hunt. What Sam didn't mention was that he'd passed out from a concussion and that Dad and Bobby had take turns carrying him back to the car. Dean had scrambled along on his bum ankle, pissed off that he wasn't the one taking care of his brother. Although he'd been right to persuade Bobby that they should follow his dad and brother. If they'd been just five minutes later, Dean was afraid Sam would've been turned. The werewolf had been set on sinking its teeth into Sam and if his little brother hadn't thrust that rock into its mouth, it would have succeeded. There was no way Dean would ever allow Sam to hunt without him by his side. Dean didn't doubt their dad loved Sam but no one could take care of him like Dean could. It was Dean who sat in the back of the Impala, clutching Sam close to keep him warm. Dean who had held a clean rag to the back of his head where it seeped blood. Dean who sat next to Sam in the hospital while he rambled about werewolves and missing his brother and hunting while the concussion made him delusional.

But Sam was resilient.

He'd have to be if he was going to survive Dean's wrath.

What the hell had Sam been thinking? Writing about a werewolf hunt for a class paper. Civilians didn't understand that shit and Sam was going to expose them if he wasn't more careful.

First Dean was going to steal the paper back from Sam's teacher.

Then he was going to kill Sam for ruining his t-shirt.


Mr. Wyatt liked to be out of the school at four pm sharp. As a teacher it was easy to get lost in paper work and to lose oneself during the work week and he knew his personal life was suffering because of it.

At a recent teacher conference he had met a really nice preschool teacher, Ms. Longs. She, like him, was new to the world of teaching and had been so caught up in it that she also complained she never did anything social. In a moment of boldness, Mr. Wyatt had suggested they do coffee the following day. To his surprise and pleasure she had agreed, and since then he'd been meeting her everyday after work at the local coffee shop.

It was a nice way to blow off steam and to have some adult time in his day filled with teenagers and their puberty ridden issues. Meeting Ms. Long, Melissa, was the highlight of his day now.

In his haste to get out the door though, Mr. Wyatt realized he had forgotten to grab his keys and that was going to keep him from getting very far.

A quick u-turn and he was back in front of his class room door. Throwing the door open in his hurry he nearly jumped out of his skin to find someone standing in his class with a paper in hand.

That someone was not one of his students so it puzzled him for a moment until he saw the name on the paper the older teen was holding. Sam Winchester.

"Mister..." The teen was looking at the desk and the name plate. "Mr. Wyatt, I can explain."

Mr. Wyatt plaster on a reassuring smile. "Dean is it? Why don't we have a seat for a minute and talk?"

Dean tensed, nodded and quickly sat down on top of one of the desks on the front row; Sam's paper was clutched in his hands.

Mr. Wyatt perched on the top of his own desk and reached his hand out towards Dean. "May I?"

Dean sighed and reluctantly handed the paper back to him.

"Dean, have you read this paper?" Mr. Wyatt paused and watched as Dean nodded in affirmation. It occurred to the teacher that the teen might be worried that Sam's openness about their family in his paper.

"What you might not know, is that I told Sam if he wanted to embellish and make this a more exciting paper he could. He did an amazing job with it. The imagination he used and the lively way he wrote about his family shows he really has a way with words." Mr. Wyatt could see Dean begin to relax and it made him happy he'd read the kid right.

"Yeah, well I didn't want …." Dean trailed off and looked at his feet.

"You didn't want me to think your brother had lost his mind writing about werewolves? Or were worried I might judge you on being part of a non-traditional family? I can understand that, and from the way Sam wrote about you that worry makes sense."

Dean looked up and quirked a brow. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Wyatt smiled. "Sam has a case of the 'my big brother is awesome and my hero'. You take good care of your kid brother. I can tell that from his paper and from you actions here today."

Dean gave a smirk. "Yeah well he is a pain in my butt, but he is my brother. So, what do you wanna do about uh...?"

"About what? All that happened today was that I had a nice chat about one of my students with his big brother. How about we just keep this little discussion between you and me? Wouldn't want to embarrass Sam, now, would we?"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah sounds good. You're alright Mr. Wyatt, you know that? I mean, this school is pretty lame but I'm glad my brother got to have you as a teacher."

It was Mr. Wyatt's turn to chuckle. "Thanks Dean. I'll take that as a compliment. Now, I hate to rush you out but …"

"Got a hot date?" Dean asked as he hopped off the desk.

Mr. Wyatt shook his head. "Yeah well something like that."

Standing up, the teacher moved to the back of the desk and pulled a drawer open retrieving his keys as Dean moved to the door.

"Yeah well, I gotta go get Sam, he's probably wondering what happened to me. Later."

Dean was out of the room before Mr. Wyatt could respond.


"Dean, what took you so long?" Sam whined from his perch on the bleachers, quickly stuffing the book he had been reading in his backpack.

"I was on a mission. I thought we might have two major issues to deal with but I was wrong, we only have one." Dean smirked at Sam and his little brother squirmed under the scrutiny.

"An issue?" Sam squeaked out as he climbed off the bleachers.

"Yeah, seems I can't find my AC/DC shirt. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" Dean gave Sam a hard look.

Sam looked at the ground and replied. "I'm sorry Dean, I was wearing your shirt when I got attacked by the werewolf."

Dean huffed. "It's bad enough you borrowed it without asking but it would have been nice to know you ruined it."

Sam tensed. "I-I know I should have said something but I was saving up money to buy you a new one."

Dean sighed. "That's nice and all but do you know how hard those are to come by? Most of the po-dunk towns we end up in don't have shops that carry cool shirts like that."

Sam's head shot up. "Yeah but you can order them from the Rolling Stone Magazine, they have cool ads in the back. I finally got the money saved up and sent off for it. Uncle Bobby got it in the mail the other day and I was gonna give it to you the next time we visited him."

"You did what? How did you send money for it?"

"Money order." Sam replied smugly.

Dean nudged him. "I guess I'll have to let you off on this one, but dude no more borrowing."

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm thinking I need to find my own style." Sam replied confidently.

"Yeah whatever Geek-boys are wearing today will suit you just fine, Sammy."


"Bitch." Dean replied automatically.

The walk back to the car was silent. He could tell Sam was caught up in his own little world. A new world, where his little brother was becoming more confident, his own person. Dean wanted to cheer about that but at the same time it scared him.

Mr. Wyatt was right, Sam was a talented writer and so much more than that. Dean wasn't blind he could see it, but it scared him to think that those talents might take his brother away from the family and away from him.

Cramming those unsettling thoughts from his head, Dean decided to concentrate on the present.

"How's pizza sound for dinner runt?"


Sam sat in Mr. Wyatt's class, happy to get to spend another day under the guidance of such a cool teacher. He knew his time at this school would be coming to a close soon and that was a sad thought.

Aside from his fight with Dirk, things were going pretty well. Sam was still feeling very liberated by getting to write truthfully about what he did for summer vacation. He knew that there might be consequences but he didn't care. It was nice to lay his life out for someone else to see, and Mr. Wyatt seemed the type of person that might understand.

Sam was pulled from his musings as the bell rang ending his time in English. He gave Barry a smile as they made their way to the front of the classroom.

He was a bit shocked when Mr. Wyatt stopped him. "Mr. Winchester - can I talk to you?"

Sam swallowed hard and nodded. He looked up at Barry as the kid paused at the door.

"I'll wait for you outside." Barry responded as he moved to leave.

Sam smiled and then turned his attention to Mr. Wyatt.

"Look, if this is about the fight, I didn't start it."

Mr. Wyatt moved to sit at his desk with papers in his hand. "Oh no, it's not about the fight, Sam."

Sam's focus narrowed in on the papers and he realized that he was about to face the consequences of writing his 'truthful' summer paper. It made him tense with anticipation.

"You know this assignment was non-fiction, right?" Mr. Wyatt's facial expression was serious and Sam was afraid things were about to go badly.

"Yes Mr. Wyatt."

"So, you and your family killed a werewolf last summer, huh?" Mr. Wyatt shifted in his seat and seemed to be waiting for a response.

Sam felt his mind racing trying to come up with a reasonable answer.

"Why would you write something like this, Sam?"

That question crushed Sam. He thought and wanted to believe that Mr. Wyatt would understand, but unfortunately he was wrong. Sam knew he could throw back the 'feel free to exaggerate' comment his teacher had made when giving the assignment but he just didn't care anymore.

No one understood him and no one would.

"It doesn't matter. As soon as my dad gets back we're leaving, so..." Sam paused and waited for a reprimand for his attitude but when that didn't happen Sam found himself deflating.

In a quiet manner he voiced his misery at being once again a disappointment, this time to his favorite teacher. "You can flunk me if you want to."

Mr. Wyatt quirked an eyebrow and smiled. "I'm not flunking you. I'm giving you an A."

Sam felt his whole body relax as he sighed. It was such a shock to have things play out in a favorable way. He had hoped for it but never truly thought it would happen.

"Aside from the werewolf, is that really how you describe your family?" Mr. Wyatt was giving Sam an encouraging smile and Sam found himself excited to reply.

"Yeah." Sam nodded and smiled.

"Well, your brother's quite a character." Mr. Wyatt replied smiling. "And your father he seems... driven. Anyway, it's good, Sam. It's really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing writing?"

Mr. Wyatt's statements made Sam excited but then reality hit him hard when his teacher asked about pursuing writing.

"I can't," Sam replied solemnly. "I have to go into the family business."

Sam could tell his answer confused his teacher but he wished the older man would just let it go.

"Family business?"

Sam sighed and replied. "My dad's a... my dad's a mechanic, so I have to be a mechanic too."

Mr. Wyatt's expression turned serious once again. "Do you want to go into the family business, Sam?"

"No one's ever asked me that before." Sam felt taken aback by the question but he knew in his gut what the answer was and so it came out easily. "More than anything, no."

Mr. Wyatt stood up and walked around the desk. "I don't want to overstep my bounds here, but... you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Look, I know what it's like. I come from a family of surgeons, and that wasn't me. So you know, I traded in the money and prestige of being a doctor for all the glamor you see around you. The point is, there may be three or four big choices that shape someone's whole life - and you need to be the one that makes them. Not anyone else. You seem like a great kid, Sam. Just live the life you want to live."

Sam had thought writing his paper had been liberating but it didn't even register compared to what he was feeling now listening to Mr. Wyatt. Hope sprung from the dark place it had been hiding.

"Thanks Mr. Wyatt." Sam replied with a big smile.

"Sure thing, anytime you need to talk, I'm here." Mr. Wyatt reached over a patted Sam on the back.

Sam nodded and headed for the door, definitely walking on cloud nine.


Sam walked out of school with his head spinning. The thoughts of what he might do with his life as an adult overwhelming him. He knew now he could plan, could have a normal life if that was what he wanted.

It made him feel free for the first time in... well forever.

All that freedom made him want to shout from the rooftops that he was free, free of hunting.

That happiness came to a screaming halt when he spotted his brother waiting for him at the bleachers.

Dean. In his plans he had forgotten about his brother. Now it hurt to think of a future because that normal life wouldn't include Dean. It couldn't because Dean loved the life they had now.

Swallowing hard at his emotions he pushed the thoughts aside. He buried them. Sam would live in the present and concentrate on spending quality time with his brother. The future was still there and ready to plan but at this moment it could wait.

"Hey Dean, wanna get some pizza?"

Dean walked over and ruffled Sam's head. "Sure thing runt."

His life wasn't perfect and it wasn't normal but Sam decided for now, it would do. The future could wait.