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Sam finally told Dean about him going to Stanford. He imagined the whole conversation for over a thousand times in his head. He planned and re-planned what he was going to say, tried to estimate how Dean would react and all that. However, when the time came, his mind just went blank and all that came out of his mouth was, “I’m going to Stanford, Dean. I’m leaving in two weeks.” And that was it. He forgot all the sugar coating he practiced again and again in front of the mirror and the lines he wrote down in his notepad. He simply informed Dean in the most straight forward way. Dean’s reaction was out of his expectation as well. There were no “whys”, “what the fucks”, “how can you do that” or “fuck you Sam”. Dean seemed a little taken back, for sure, but soon he said, in a carefully controlled tone, “That’s great, Sammy. I’m proud of you.”
It got Sam edgy and worked up, because Dean did not explode on him, did not beg him to stay. There was nothing. They carried on with their life as if nothing happened. Dean did not even ask if Sam was going to tell Dad about it. It made Sam extremely uncomfortable. He was afraid, and waiting for Dean to blow up with every second that passed. Yet still, there was nothing. To be honest, this made Sam scared to death. He was afraid if Dean did not explode on him, he would implode on the inside, blaming himself for everything and thinking that Sam was actually leaving him, which would be the exact opposite of what Sam wanted.
Dean was not sleeping well since Sam told him about Stanford. He would get out of bed in the middle of the night and headed out of the motel. Sam was dying to know where he was going but he did not want Dean to know that he was following him. Yet soon Sam’s curiosity got the better out of him. He got out of bed a while after Dean closed the motel door behind him one night. He assumed that Dean did not drive that Impala because he did not want Sam to hear him. At first Sam was almost a hundred percent sure that Dean would hit a bar nearby and get pissed-ass drunk but he was wrong. Following Dean carefully and discreetly, Sam came to an old rusty chapel some blocks away from where they were staying.
It did not look like people in town were still using it. Sam tried his best to stay quiet as he squeezed through the dusty squeaky wooden door into the chapel. With the help of the dim moonlight shining through the broken roof, Sam made his way to a corner once he saw Dean. He was sitting on one of the benches in the front, mumbling softly to himself. Sam bit his lip and moved closer to Dean without being spotted and to his surprise, Dean was praying. Sam was not stupid. There could only be one possibility if Dean was out alone here in an abandoned chapel but it was still pretty incomprehensible to Sam since the Dean he knew never prayed, let alone going to church.
Sam could start to make out what Dean was saying from this distance. He held his breath and was grateful for the darkness that kept him well hidden so he could eavesdrop on his brother.
“I wish I knew what to do.” Dean looked down at his hands, “With every day that passed, it was closer to Sam leaving.” Sam’s chest tightened, so this was really about him going to Stanford.
“I congratulated him. I patted his back but I can’t. I can’t look him in the eyes and be genuinely happy for him.” Dean’s voice started to break and Sam ducked his head. He wished Dean could tell him how he felt, instead of going behind his back and talking to some higher being that he knew Dean did not believe existed. But the next word that came out of Dean’s mouth made Sam lift his head in shock.
“Mom.” Sam was pretty sure that Dean was crying now, “I don't want Sam to go. I know it is selfish. He is so great and he has grown out of my care ages ago but still, still I can’t let him go. I’m happy for him but I know once he leaves… It will be over. We will be living in separate universes and our paths will never cross again, ever.”
Sam felt like his heart was caught in his throat. Dean was praying to Mary. His nails were digging into his palms without him realizing. His eyes watered when Dean spoke again.
“I’m… I’m scared, mom.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and Sam has never seen him so distressed, “I don’t know how to live without him, but I guess that’s something I gotta learn to deal. Just like dad has to deal with losing you.” Dean let out a shaky breath that sounded like a pinched balloon losing its air. It also sounded like something falling apart. “But what’s different is, Sammy will be safe, and happy.” Dean went silent for a long while. It almost made Sam think that he noticed he was there. But then Dean took a deep breath, “I beg you to keep him safe, okay? I know I can’t be there with him once he catches up with the normal, apple pie life, so please, mom, or god, or whoever is listening up there, please keep him safe. It’s fine if his life doesn’t involve me as long as he is okay. I will give my life, and my soul for that promise. So please.” And for the first time in Sam’s life, he saw Dean doing the cross sign over his chest.
Around a week later, everything went as Sam planned except for the part when John exploded on him, telling him that he could never come back if he walked out of the door. He was too angry to care how much that actually meant, not to him, but to Dean. Despite John thundering in the motel room, Dean caught up on Sam and offered to drive him to the bus stop. Sam felt a little sting in the heart that Dean did not try to ask him to stay, because if Dean asked, maybe for one second he would consider it. But Dean did not.
He drove Sam to the bus stop in silent, like he was turning his brain upside down for the right words to say but he could not find anything good. Sam simply stared out of the window, and suddenly he realized this could be the last time he rode shotgun in the Impala. That made his chest hurt really, really bad.
When Dean pulled up the car by the roadside, Sam wished time could stop just right there, so they would not have to say goodbye. But to his dismay, that did not happen. So he cleared his throat and unbuckled his seat belt.
“Sammy.” Dean’s voice felt like gravity, and it made Sam want to drop everything and tell Dean that he was staying.
“Yeah..?” Sam forced himself to look at Dean. He forced himself to study the gorgeous green eyes and the face of his big brother once more.
“I… I just want to tell you, that, I—erm…” Dean’s eyes wavered a little before they met Sam’s again, “I’m proud of you.”
Sam pursed his lips and he nodded, gripping on the leather seat hard. He knew Dean was trying his best to let him go, just like he was trying his very best to remember why he decided to leave. “Thank you.” His voice must sound awful now but Dean did not tease him. “I will… I will call when I get there.”
This time Dean nodded. “Sure. Stay safe.”
Sam looked away and grabbed his bag quick. He pushed open the car door and slammed it shut with more force that he intended, but Dean did not say anything.
“You gonna be okay, right?” Sam asked softly, his voice starting to break.
“Of course,” Dean was not looking at Sam anymore, “I’m always okay.”
Sam moved away from the Impala as he replied, “And I will be okay too, Dean.”
The Impala roared to life right after, and Sam was not sure if Dean heard him. He thought about Dean’s tears, and his desperate voice back in that chapel as he watched the Impala disappearing down the road. Then he knew. He knew Dean was right. So he looked up into the starless night sky and prayed out loud, “Dear God, please hold him when I’m not around.”