Title: ANCon Challenge Response: As my world shatters

Author: Disasteriffic Kaz

Info: ANCon Challenge Response! For XenaScully: In the episode, "Dark Side of the Moon", Dean told Sam that when Sam ran off, it was "the worst night of my life", referring to how John reacted. I WANT...story. Of that night.

Author's Note: This Fic is written for a Challenge for the Author's Note Convention on July 15th. At the request of XenaScully. Hope I've done this night justice. :D Enjoy!

Also, forgive the formatting error when it initially posted. Little argument between my laptop and the site and I didn't catch it until I checked the preview. *head/desk*

Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P

Disclaimer: What? They're not mine? Well hell, I'll just borrow the boys then.

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Dean met his brother's eyes, seeing the tears filling them up. He opened his mouth to say something, anything but Sam turned away and left with their father's words ringing in the silent room. 'If you walk out that door don't you ever come back!'

"Sammy." Dean whispered and jumped when his father slammed his fist down onto the table. It was the only word he'd managed. He'd been so shocked when Sam had announced he was leaving for college and just when the fear of separation had started to give way to pride in his little brother for being accepted to such a prestigious college their Dad had dropped the hammer. It wasn't that he didn't understand the anger spewing from Dad, he did. Part of him couldn't believe that his Sammy could ever…would ever leave him; abandon him. That voice grew louder as Sam and his father shouted at each other, Sam's comments of being choked by Dad and forced into a life he didn't want stinging Dean as well. Every so often Sam's eyes would stray to Dean as if looking for support but Dean couldn't find the words. He couldn't speak past the lump in his throat that he was being left behind…again. He stared at the closed door now and felt lost and empty; he had no idea what to do with himself if it didn't involve taking care of Sam. 'take care of your brother'. That was his whole life, had been all of his life since the day Dad had put him in his arms. What was he supposed to do now?

"Dean." John barked. "We're leaving. Get your gear."

"What?" Dean turned in surprise to look at his father. "Dad, we should…"

"We have a ghost to take care of and then we're hitting the road." John didn't look at him, avoiding the eyes of his eldest but Dean didn't notice.

"We can't." Dean said, fear gripping him. What if Sam changed his mind? What if he came back and they were gone? How would he find them?

"We can and we are. We have a hunt." John threw his leather jacket at him. It struck Dean's chest and fell to the floor.

"We're still doing the damn hunt? Tonight?" Dean asked and realized his voice was rising. He'd found it finally but too late. "Dad!"

"Doesn't change anything, Dean." John yelled and slammed his fist into the table again before turning away. "We still have a hunt."

"Dad! Come on! It's Sam!" The shock was beginning to give way to anger. They were just going to leave him behind? "Dad…"

"He's made his choice, Dean." John's voice was hard, angry. "Get your gear and get in the car."

Dean watched in mute horror as his Dad packed up a bag and vanished into the back of the ramshackle little house. How could this be happening? He asked himself. His family had just fallen apart in an explosion of anger and the fallout from it was shredding his heart. He moved finally, jerking forward and stumbling back to his and Sam's room…not Sam's anymore. Dean stopped in the doorway and stared at the rumpled bed that would never again hold his little brother and felt the first tear fall from his eyes. He stepped into the room, averting his eyes from Sam's bed and bent under his own to pull out his duffel. Dean dragged it out and tossed it up on his own bed. He went through the room methodically grabbing his clothes and stuffing them in, always avoiding the other bed. He frowned as he pulled open the dresser drawer. Sitting on top was one of Sam's hoodies and he took it out gingerly, placing it on top and grabbed up his own shirts then frowned again; his favorite brown flannel was missing. He looked up to Sam's hoodie and sucked in a breath, fighting the wave of emotion that flooded into his eyes.

"Bitch." Dean whispered and took the hoodie, tucking it into his bag with a pained smile.

"Dean!" John's voice shouted for him and Dean shook himself, zipping the bag closed. He took a last look around the grungy room, thin curtains, grime covered windows and left.

John Winchester stomped out of the little house and to his truck. He tossed his bags inside and slammed the door, then leaned up against it letting his forehead rest against the cool glass. He knew what Dean thought; it was plain on his son's face as it had been with Sam. It tore at his heart and he sighed against the window. "Did I do the right thing, Mary?" John asked softly. It had hurt like hell but he had to believe he'd done the right thing; pushing Sam away. It was worth it, he told himself. He'd known what Sam was doing for weeks. He was a Hunter and an ex-marine for crying out loud and he smirked at how oblivious Sam thought he'd been but he'd seen the letters. Maybe now Sam could have a shot at a normal life. It was too late for him and, much as it hurt him to admit it, for Dean as well. He'd seen to that but Sammy had somehow managed to hold on to that naiveté that made him long for a normal, safe life.

"I let him go, Mary. God, tell me I did the right thing driving him away cause right now…" He thumped his head against the window, closing his eyes tight. "All I can feel is the last of our family breaking apart." His son deserved a chance at something else if he could have it. Maybe it wouldn't last and maybe the life would come for him no matter where he went but he hoped that maybe, away from them, Sam could finally have what he wanted and be happy. He heard the screen door slam on the porch and straightened hurriedly, wiping tears from his face that he hadn't felt and putting on his game face. Dean needed him to be hard right now; he'd need someone to blame for a while and John would be that for him.

"Hurry up, Dean." John turned and tossed a glare at his eldest, trying not to wince at the pain written clear across Dean's face. He climbed up into his truck as Dean passed by him to the Impala. "Keep an eye on our baby, Mary." John prayed softly and started the engine, pulling out of the drive.

Dean slid into the Impala and turned the key, listening to the growl of the engine. He glanced over at the passenger seat; empty for the first time and tightened his hands on the wheel against the tightness in his chest. Sam had left him and Dad…Dad didn't care. He growled as his father honked at him and pulled out behind his Dad. For a moment, he just sat in the street looking at the house in the dark. It looked cold and lonely and empty and Dean turned away from it slowly to watch his father's tail lights recede into the distance. It took almost more will power than he had left to press on the gas and leave it behind; leave Sam behind. He followed his father and shoved the pain down deep where it couldn't hurt him; at least, he tried but no amount of denial or blaring music could stop the tear that tracked down his face as he left his little brother behind and followed the man who had caused it on to the next Hunt.

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The End.

Everyone! The annual Author's Note Convention is coming up on July 15th! I will be there! It will be held in Roanoke, Virginia again this year. If you've ever wanted to hug me or poke me for my work, here's your chance! :P Here is their website for all the info you need:

www(dot)authorsnote(dot)org/an-con-2012

and you can follow them on Twitter Authors_Note for updates and news!