Title: What you dont know can hurt youAuthor: rinkleGenre: GenRating: PG-13Disclaimer: Don't own anything, not being paidCharacters: Sam, Dean, JohnSpoilers: Minor for 2.03 BloodlustWord count:
4525A/N: Huge thank you to starrylizard for betaing and giving me the title, and lunardreamed and heylittleriver for betaing. Summary: The aftermath of a hunt leaves Sam questioning how his life
has changed and whether he wants the life that his brother and dad are living. Dean 16, Sam 12. Sam POV. It was the silence that woke Sam. He fuzzily looked at his watch 9:50 pm and rubbed his
eyes. He didnt remember falling asleep, but he couldnt have been sleeping for long.He was used to jubilant talking after a hunt (mainly from Dean) and a play-by-play analysis (also mainly from
Dean) and a discussion of how things could be improved (mainly his dad), and he could sleep through it. He had slept through it a number of times, not waking until they got back to the motel. But
something was wrong if both Dean and his dad were quiet.Usually it meant a hunt had gone bad and, eventually, theyd start talking on the drive back to wherever they were staying. Usually it meant
that Dean hadnt done something right or something unexpected had happened and both of them were fuming about it. Sam was fairly certain that it was worse than that this time.His dad hadnt even
started the car yet, was just staring stiff and silent off into the dark, his face filled with more shadows than those cast by the low light. Dean was facing the passenger side window, curled away
from their father, away from Sam. Johns jaw clenched once spasmodically and he reined his gaze in. Dean, John started, his voice even rougher than normal. Dean shrunk away, retreating further to
the window. John sat for a few seconds, looking at Dean. What Sam could see of his expression was so unlike anything he had ever seen on his dads face before that he almost couldnt name it. John
finally started the engine and the radio blared on; he quickly stabbed it off.John turned on the headlights and started the car forward, down the path that led back to the road. Trees blocked out
the moonlight and loomed tall in the Impalas lights, guarding the car or warning it Sam wasnt sure which. It was thinking that was guaranteed to have Dean rolling his eyes at him, if he knew. Dad,
Sam ventured. What happened?Go back to sleep, Sammy, John replied, his voice terse. He kept his eyes on the road, not looking at Dean or in the mirror back at Sam. Sam relaxed against his seat and
looked out the side windows at the trees. He was sick of not being told anything, sick of being kept out of his brother and fathers world. He didnt really want to hunt, but he didnt want to be
purposefully excluded from it either. Dean was looking after Sam by himself at Sams age, and Sam got stuck sleeping in the car because his dad didnt trust him at home by himself. It wasnt fair.
John made him train and he was just as good a shot as Dean, spoke Latin much more easily than Dean did, and yet he wasnt allowed on any hunts. He was almost completely left out of the discussion of
them, too, at least until afterwards. Their dad never took much notice of what either boy had to add, anyway. What was the point of the training if he wasnt going to use it? He might as well just
study for school.The really frustrating thing was the fact that, up until a few months before, Dean had agreed with him. Dean had enjoyed the hunt, but hed talk about what else hed do with his
life: go to college, become a rock singer, a mad scientist, become a cop or an electrician, a mechanic. And between one hunt and the next hed changed. He trained harder, talked less, and declared
that hed rather be doing nothing else with his life. Hed ask their dad question after question about the hunt, rather than protest even to Sam about the fact that a hunt stopped him studying for a
test which meant that hed get a C+ instead of a B+ in the subject he loved the most.He hadnt even protested when they moved and he hadnt made it to first base with Jenny Mullen not that Sam ever
thought he would. Shed just been stringing Dean along; she thought he was a freak, according to her younger sister. Other than hunting, she was all that Dean had talked about and Dean had just
accepted that he had to leave her behind.It felt like there was a huge chasm between them now, like Dean was a grown up and Sam was still a child, and it hurt. Sam missed it being him and Dean
against the world or their dad, as the case may be. But Sam didnt want to be like them. The car slid slightly on the gravel as they turned out onto the main road. It was nice to be back on a sealed
road gravel or dirt always made him feel sick, particularly if he was in the back seat. The trees werent as dense around the road, allowing some of the moonlight to filter though and there was also
the occasional street lamp. Sam used the light to gather information. One flash of a street lamp both his fathers hands were black, dried blood, probably; another and he saw that Deans face
shimmered as the light passed, before leaving him in shadow again. The realisation hit him like a freight train and his heart shuddered in his chest. Dean didntSam had only seen Dean like this
once, four years before, when his friend, Matt someone, was hit by a car riding his bike to school. Their dad had picked Sam up from school and told him that Dean needed lots of hugs. He may not
want them, but he needed them. Sam had almost burst into tears himself when hed seen Dean curled up on his bed, his face wet and shoulders shaking silently. But hed been strong and crawled onto the
bed and wrapped his arms around Dean and told him itd be okay. And it was, eventually. It had taken weeks of Dean not being Dean, their dad actually being around and more hugs than his dad had
given in a long time.Sam had only seen Dean cry that once. Sure, hed been quiet and moody and angry at them both a lot, but hed only cried that once and it was like hed cried all the tears hed ever
had. If his dad would let him talk and if he didnt think it would come out flippant and push Dean further into himself, Sam would ask, Who died? Because that was the only explanation for why Dean
was curled up in the front seat crying.Sam turned back to the side window and swallowed the spit that had built up in his mouth. Dean would need him to be strong, to be there for him, to hug him to
the end of days, if necessary. He and Dad, theyd get Dean through it. Theyd sit and watch bad movies and Dad would watch it with them and attempt to cook one of his masterpieces that almost always
turned out surprisingly good, especially considering the ingredients and cooking facilities they usually had. And by the end of the night Dean would be leaning silently against their dad and
letting Sam cuddle up to him without a protest. Theyd go to sleep and Dean would wake up from a nightmare, but it would be okay, because their dad was there. If there was one thing he knew, it was
how to chase the dreams away until you could sleep again. The nightmares that mattered, that was. Monsters that their dad was almost completely certain didnt exist didnt garner much sympathy, even
if they were purported to live in your closet.Theyd finally reached more signs of civilisation more regular street lamps, the occasional house, fences flashing past as they sped through. One place
still had Christmas lights, probably up all year. Sam couldnt imagine why youd want to do that. It took away what made them special, what made Christmas magical. Once they reached the real
outskirts of the town, John slowed down. Small towns were notorious for their speed traps and getting pulled over on a night when something seemed to have gone horribly wrong and their dad still
had blood on his hands was probably a very bad idea. Sam wouldnt be surprised if they didnt just hit the motel to wash off the worst of the blood and grab their stuff and run. It was looking like
it was going to be one of those all too frequent nights.They pulled into the motel a few minutes later and stopped in front of their room. John sat for a minute before looking in the rear-view
mirror.Sam, help me get our stuff.Sam glanced at Dean, but he hadnt moved. He couldnt have too much blood or guts or whatever on him, if their dad wasnt making him get out and wash-up before they
left.Sam, now, John barked quietly and Sam reluctantly got out of the car. The lighting gave him a better view of Deans face and Sam turned away, not able to stand it. He wasnt sure whether this
was something that hugs could fix, not this time.He trailed after his dad into the room. He could hear the tap running in the bathroom.Get your brothers stuff packed and grab anything either of you
might want with you in the car. I want to be across a couple of state lines before the morning.Yes, sir, Sam responded loudly as he moved to grab their duffels. Usually their dad was content with
getting the next state over if a hunt had gone bad. A couple of states between it and him meant that things couldnt have been worse and John was worried that they might be linked to it and end up
with the cops on their tail. These were the hunts that Sam dreaded, when Dean was involved. He didnt usually have to worry about either of them getting hurt because their dad was always much more
careful when Dean was there and had always taken him on the easier hunts. If their dad was alone, then both boys worried about him coming home injured or with the cops on his tail.Sam worried about
both his and Deans lives being over before theyd really begun. John and Dean could get caught for breaking and entering, grave desecration or even murder, and not all jails were easy to escape
from. Without their dad, unless Sam and Dean were able to take off, theyd probably be split up and put in foster care. And if Dean ended up with a record itd screw up any chance he had in the
future of doing whatever he wanted.Sam packed quickly and efficiently. They never unpacked too much anyway, when they were staying in a motel room. If they were in a crappy little apartment then
they could unpack and sprawl out a bit, because it implied semi-permanence. Sam left some of the snack foods and drinks out. Theyd probably need something in the car, seeing as it would probably be
a long trip. If nothing else, their dad would probably need something. Sam didnt even baulk at packing Deans used socks, rescued from the sink, and underwear as he normally did. He just grabbed
some of Deans clean clothes to wrap them in, so he didnt have to risk contaminating himself. Dean could stink up a pair of socks like nobodys business. They were toxic if you got too close.John
came out of the bathroom with a red scrubbed face and hands and stripped off his outer shirt, exchanging it for a bloodless one, before stuffing it into his own bag, bloody side folded in.Dad, what
Sam tried again, trailing off when his dad stopped with his back to him, his body tense.Not now, Sam, John said, his voice weary, before going back to stuffing his clothes in his bag.But, Sam
started, needing to know what happened, what had affected Dean so badly.Sam, leave it, John barked and Sam jumped, guiltily hurrying to pack the last of Deans things into his duffel. It seemed that
the older Sam got, the shorter Johns fuse was. On the whole, it seemed to be with Sam; he didnt yell at Dean anywhere near as much, which was incredibly unfair. Dean was their dads favourite, and
that wasnt right. It wasnt Sams fault that hed rather read a book then go out for target practice or that he was still too young, according to his father, to hunt.Finished, his dad zipped his bag
up and turned to Sam, who stuffed the last item in Deans. John grabbed the bag off him, leaving Sam to carry his own and the snacks. Pee and put the keys in the box, John said. Sam nodded and took
the keys that were handed to him. They always paid a day in advance, so they wouldnt be stiffing the owner by cutting out suddenly. Sam did his business and shut the door to the room, balancing his
bag on his shoulder. He hurried over to the box for keys; there was a clang as each key hit the bottom of the box. He returned to the car and slung his bag into the trunk, before climbing in behind
Dean again with his stash of food and drinks. He carefully avoided looking at Dean as he got in the car; he didnt think hed be able to sit through the drive and not say anything, ask anything, if
he saw Deans face again. He always had questions, always wanted to know why, but it appeared that tonight wasnt the night for it.Get some sleep, John said, before he started the car and pulled out
of the motel.Sam settled back against the seat and squirmed around until he was comfortable. He let the sound of the engine block out all his thoughts and his worries about Dean and drifted off.The
car door shutting woke him. He looked sleepily around and saw his dad walking down the sidewalk. They were stopped in some empty street beside Ronnies Metal Works. Sam looked at his watch. It had
only been twenty minutes since theyd left the motel, so he had no idea why his dad had stopped.He leaned forward. Dean? he asked quietly. He waited for a reply and when there was none settled back
down in his seat and looked out the window. It had started to rain, big spots landing on the glass. Sam watched the progress of some of the spots, small spots growing larger as they merged with
others until they were a stream flowing down, destroying everything in their path. Nothing stood a chance under their onslaught.The door opened again, letting in the sound of the rain, before being
quickly closed.Dad? Sam said hesitantly.Just needed to make a phone call. He turned to face Dean. Dean, its done. Hell be okay.Dean nodded slightly but otherwise didnt move. John rubbed his neck
tiredly and started the car, quickly moving off into the night again. Sam let his mind drift.* * *He woke up abruptly, unsure of where he was or what had woken him.You awake? he heard his dad ask
from outside his window.Sam yawned his answer as John disappeared from his view and looked out the window to see, surprisingly, yet another motel. He checked his watch: one thirty am; theyd made
good time if their dad was happy with how far away they were now. Although, it was also possible that he was just too tired to drive any more. Sam grabbed the bag of food and opened his door to
find that Dean was already out of the car and pulling things from the trunk. He tried to grab his bag off Dean, but Dean pulled it out of the way and circled around him and into the motel room.
John gave Sam his own bag and shut the trunk. Ill be back in the morning. John got back in the car leaving Sam dumbstruck. The engine turned over and the car took off, its tail lights shining
dimly. Son of a Sam left the thought unfinished. Getting angry wouldnt do anything right now and wouldnt help Dean. He hefted Johns bag up and joined his brother in the motel room. Dads left, he
said as he dumped Johns duffel on the queen sized bed. He looked up and around the room when he got no response. His and Deans bags were on the two other single beds and Dean was nowhere in sight.
Dean?Looking back around the room, Sam noticed that the bathroom door was shut. Dean probably needed a pee or a shower. Couldnt be a shower, though, all the towels were still piled on their
individual beds and he hadnt kicked his boots off. So peeing or crapping. Not crapping; hed know if that was happening. And there were no pee sounds either.Dean, you okay in there?When he again
received no response, Sam walked over and tried the door. It was locked. On the whole, that was a big no-no in the Winchester household. Privacy wasnt something they very often had as they
sometimes needed to leave in a hurry and didnt have the time to waste on just one person using the bathroom. And sometimes you just had to go, and you werent going to let the fact that someone was
in the shower stop you. Of course, theyd be ready to kill you when you flushed the toilet, but that was at least one fun result of close quarter living.That wasnt to say that none of them locked
the door. They all did on occasion, Dean a lot more frequently now that he was older. But somehow Sam didnt think that Dean would be in there jerking off. Unfortunately Sam and Dean didnt have a
set of their own lock picks yet and Dads would still be in the car, so he couldnt even try to break in, and Dad would kill him if he drew attention to them by forcing the door.Sam knocked. Dean? he
called again. He put his ear against the door; he could hear what might be heavy breathing. Crying, hyperventilating, whacking off probably all valid interpretations. Go away, Sammy. Deans voice
was raw and tired. Sam rested his forehead against the door. Dean, please, I need to check you over; make sure you didnt get hurt.He waited for a reply, counting his breaths, suddenly angry. If
nothing else, the counting stopped him from screaming at Dean, their dad and the world in general. He didnt want to annoy the neighbours or for anybody to get nosy. Why couldnt Dad and Dean be a
whole lot less stubborn? Was it genetic? Was he predisposed to become a stubborn-assed idiot with a martyr complex, denying everything normal in life, living like gypsy white trash? Why was it
their job to deal with everything nasty and supernatural in the world?He suddenly realised that he needed to pee, and that was another reason to be annoyed at the person who had locked himself in
the bathroom. When Sam reached thirty Dean replied, his voice shakier then before. Im fine. Justjust go to bed, or something.Of course there was the little problem of the fact that Sams bladder
suddenly felt like it had turned into an alien and was going to burst out of his body if he didnt do something about it. Even if that wasnt the case, he still wouldnt have been able to go to sleep.
Their dad had trained them from an early age to go to the toilet before they went to bed, presumably to reduce bed-wetting. The problem was that it now meant that if Sam went to bed without peeing,
even if hed peed an hour before, he couldnt go to sleep. The only solution was to go and dunk the duckie. And wasnt that terminology a humiliating reminder every time Dean used it. So, the idea
just made him want to pee all the more. Dean, I need to pee. Seriously, I need to go. Unlock the door or Ill use your duffel bag.Of course, there could be one minor problem. Sam heard a snort.Dont
believe you.And there the problem was. Fine, he snapped, see if I care that your walkman gets wet.You mess with my walkman and Ill wring your neck, Sammy. Dont believe I wont. At least Dean sounded
more like Dean and less like someone who was falling apart. It was a patented Dean Winchester move: deflect, make the person laugh or angry and move on. It was good to know that Dean wasnt the only
one who had the knack.You wont let me in there; Ill just have to go and pee outside. Sam stood for a few seconds and when the door didnt magically open he left the motel room, resisting the urge to
slam the door out of respect for the neighbours.The air was cold and he shivered slightly as he made his way around the side of the building to a group of trees. While the front of the motel was
lit up, the garden area was in the dark. He crunched carefully over the leaves, scanning all directions, his hand hovering over the gun hed grabbed. When he was satisfied that he wouldnt be seen
from the motel he stopped and did his business. Once hed finished he picked his way carefully back to the motel and cautiously pushed the door open, his gun out. The key hadnt been on any of the
beds it was probably in Deans pocket so hed had no choice but to leave the door unlocked. The room appeared just as it had when hed left five minutes before. Sam shut the door behind him and put
the gun down on his bed. Dean, a tree monster just tried to eat me, he called. Dad would have killed Dean for not coming out of the bathroom to check out whod walked in the door, so Sam let Dean
know it was him. He sighed when there was no response other than the almost sobs.If Dean was going to suffer in silence and be uncomfortable in the bathroom, Sam was going to suffer in silence on
the floor next to the bathroom door. With a pillow, blanket, snack food and half a dozen of Deans thicker comic books. And the gun in reach, of course. Then, if Dean wanted to talk or whatever, he
was there. Besides, someone needed to be on guard in case the tree monsters decided to crash their room. Sam swallowed his own sobs, rubbed his eyes tiredly and opened up Wonder Woman.He only
realised that hed fallen asleep when bright sunlight flooded his face. He opened his eyes with a start, grabbed the gun off the floor and pointed it at the window. His butt was asleep, his face was
sticky from a wet drool patch on the pillow and his fingers were leaving greasy yellow marks on the gun.There was the sound of a key turning in the lock and the door to the motel room opening, and
his dad called his and Deans names. The car pulling up outside must have been what had woken him. Dean, Sam? his father asked again as he walked around the bed. Sam looked up at him. John was
moving steadily and while Sam could smell cigarettes, he didnt smell barrels of alcohol. Johns eyes darted around the room and then finally settled on the bathroom door and Sam on the floor.Deans
been in the bathroom all night. Sam had meant it to come out matter-of-factly, but somehow censure had crept into his tone.Well, he better get out of there, we have another hunt.Sam stared at him
incredulously, his anger building. Hed never felt this angry towards his father before, but the fact that hed slept on the floor while Dean had cried in the bathroom and their father went out and
did god knows what when their should have been TV watching, cooking and even hugging pushed all his buttons.Do you even care that your son has just spent the entire night crying in the bathroom? Or
are you so caught up in the hunt that you dont even think about the fact that were not your little soldiers. Sam let his voice drip with disdain and stared steadily at John. He thought he detected
a slight flinch, but it was hard to tell: Winchesters didnt flinch.Dean doesnt need this right now. Johns voice was still calm but Sam saw the set of his jaw that indicated annoyance and
impatience. You obviously dont care about what he needs, so why should I? Sams stomach jumped and his heart started beating faster. But youre right, he doesnt need this right now, he needs a
supportive family. I was here, where were you? You do not talk to me that way, John said through clenched teeth. He took a step forward. You hear me you never talk to me that way again. Im doing
whats best for you and Dean. Sam laughed. Whats best? Are you serious?He heard the door open beside him, saw Dean standing in the doorway, his eyes rimmed with red. Let it go, Sam. Dads right, Dean
said steadily.Sam pushed himself up off the floor and shook his head. Hes not right, why cant you see that? Hes changing you, making you something youre not, Sam said desperately, pleading with
Dean for him to see. Youre just a kid. Mom wouldnt-Dean pushed him against the wall, applying enough pressure to keep him there. I said leave it, Sam. Dean shook his head. And dont bring Mom into
it. Were doing this for her, for other families out there, so they dont have to lose anyone. This is important, Sam, dont ever forget that.Dean released him and walked slowly over to his bed. Sam
looked at John, trying to hold off tears. Weirdly, John looked like he was doing the same. Whats the hunt? Dean asked.It wasnt until John started to explain about their next hunt that Sam really
realised that he wasnt eight anymore and that maybe more than his age had changed. He wanted to go back, but that wasnt possible. Things could never be the same and that scared the hell out of him.
He didnt like who his dad was and he didnt like who Dean was becoming, and it seemed like he didnt really have a say about either.But there was no way in hell he was ever going to be like them. He
wasnt. He was going to have a normal life.
