Chapter Text
The first time Sam Winchester’s life changed he was six months old, and his mother burned to death on the ceiling of his nursery. He didn’t remember that, much, but he’d heard enough about it to know that it had ruined everything.
The second time, he was almost eighteen years old, going off to Stanford and leaving his family behind. He regretted burning those bridges, but he didn’t think he would change his choice, given the option. He was well on his way to becoming a lawyer, was engaged to a beautiful woman, and his job on campus paid a living wage; he might miss his father and brother, but he didn’t regret the choice that led to this life.
The third time his life changed, he was twenty six years old and halfway through his law program. It came with the ringing of a phone when he was sitting at the desk in the spare-bedroom-cum-office he and Jess shared, studying. He let it ring once more before he put down a place-marker and picked up the phone even though he didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello? Sam Winchester speaking.”
“Yes, Mister Winchester… I’m Lionel Dawson, a case manager at Sacred Heart hospital here in Sioux Falls. I’m calling in regards to your father and brother. I’m… I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”
Sam stiffened, his fingers reflexively clenching on the phone. If they were calling him, things were very bad. John wouldn’t call him, otherwise. Truth be told, he’d half expected that his father or Dean was going to die and he wouldn’t know about it until long after the fact, if ever. This call, on the other hand, was nothing he’d ever prepared for.
“I… What’s going on?” Sam wasn’t prepared for the sheer emotions he felt at that moment. What if something had happened to dad? To Dean?
“Well, it seems your father and brother were in a car accident last night. Your brother is in critical condition, but seems likely to survive. Your father… I’m sorry, Mister Winchester, but your father is unlikely to make it. You were listed as next of kin for both your brother and father, and in the event that your father passes, your brother needs a guardian.”
Sam was confused. Why would Dean need a guardian? But then, maybe his accident had included a head injury, and he would need a guardian while he recovered? He was in critical condition.
“I… I see.” Fuck. At least it was only a few weeks into the semester. As much as he wanted to say fuck it, i’m out of the life… He couldn’t step out on Dean. Not again, when it might literally be life or death. He was stunned past tears, past shock, and finally just let out a long, slow breath. “Just let me put some things in order. I’ll be down tomorrow.” God, he hoped the credit card he had still would get him a ticket. He hung up the phone, and dialed another number, one he hadn’t called in a long time. “Bobby? It’s me… Sam…”
He touched down in Sioux Falls just after eight AM, having caught the red eye the night before. Bobby was waiting for him, beat up ball cap covering eyes that seemed much sadder than they had been the last time Sam had seen him. He hugged Sam tight, slapping his shoulder just a touch too hard.
“It’s good ta see ya, boy,” he said, stepping back with his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “Ya sure got tall, didn’tcha?” He shook his head, then nodded toward the backpack on Sam’s arm. “That all ya got?”
“Uh, yeah. I just kinda… Threw some stuff in a bag. I’m on temporary family crisis leave. Can we… I need to see them.”
Bobby nodded. “Yeah, you do. But.. Let’s go to my place, first. There’s some things you need to know.”
The drive to Bobby’s was silent, each of them brooding over their own part in this. It was a tense half hour but finally they pulled in and Sam paused to greet Rumsfeld on the front porch as he bayed out a welcome.
The first thing Sam noticed when they walked into the house was an abundance of pictures, pictures of a little boy with freckles and bright green eyes. “Hey Bobby… Who’s the cutie?” Sam picked up one of the pictures, looking it over intently. Even as worried as he was, he couldn’t help but notice strange things like pictures of kids in Bobby’s house. Bobby was at the table,picking up a large manilla envelope.
“Well son… That’s what we need to talk about.” Bobby held out the envelope. “You might wanna be sittin’ down for this.”
Sam set down the picture, frowning as he took the envelope and crossed to the couch. “Bobby, did you know my dad was in town?” After all, it seemed strange for John to come to Sioux Falls without seeking Bobby out, even after their falling out so long ago.
“Yeah, I did. He was on his way to see me.” Guilt broke into his voice, and Bobby stood before Sam could offer any consoling gesture. “Just… It’ll all be in the envelope, kid. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”
Sam upended the envelope onto his lap; more pictures of the sweet little boy spilled out and he picked them up one by one. The earliest pictures he seemed to be about three, with round cheeks and eyes almost too big for his face. A large number of the pictures had him wearing Batman pajamas, and carrying a model car in one pudgy fist. The later pictures seemed closer to four, his face a little more grown up, a little less rounded. Last to come was an envelope, with John’s distinctive handwriting on it.
Sam,
If you’re reading this, something terrible has happened. I’m sorry to drag you away from Stanford and your dreams, whatever they may be, but right now, family needs you. About a year ago, your brother Dean got cursed. You can see the outcome in the pictures. He didn’t remember anything, not about hunting, or Mary’s death. The first few months were rough, but we’re getting better. I’ve been telling him stories about his big brother Sammy, just in case, and showing him pictures of you. Bobby can give you the lowdown about the rest.
I made a will, naming you Dean’s guardian. Sam, if anything happens to me, permanently, Dean needs you. I’m sorry. I know raising a kid wasn’t in your life plan right now, I get that. But if we haven’t found a cure before you need to read this, then you need to know that Dean needs you. I trust you’ll be able to figure it out, find a way to get our Dean back, but until then, I trust you’ll take care of him, get him a good school, a stable home.
I love you, Son. I know I haven’t said that enough, but I do and I’m proud of you. Good luck, son. Take care of your brother.
Dad.