The knock at the door at 2 am wakes Sam and John. Sam hovers at the top of the stairs as John answers the door, the gruff voices of police officers describing the situation. Sam hears Dean's name several times and Rhys's name a few times, and instantly knows what happened. He also hears the word 'hospital' and 'pressing charges', and a lump rises in his throat. When the door closes, Sam darts away from the top of the stairs and back to his room, leaving his door open a crack and listening for the ensuing argument. He's not disappointed.

"Jesus Christ, Dean!" John shouts almost as soon as the door clicks shut. "What the hell has gotten into you? Assaulting another boy?"

Dean is silent, and Sam can just see him in his head, face stoic and posture stiff.

"You put him in the hospital, Dean. His parents are pressing charges! Do you realize what that means?" John lets out a furious sound. "I cannot figure you out. You get into that fight when you're seven, then nothing for all these years. Now you’re sixteen, assaulting other boys and I have no explanation for either. You've got a criminal record now! This is going to follow you for the rest of your life!"

Sam wills Dean to say something, defend himself. "Tell him that Rhys beat me up. Tell him you were defending me!" Sam whispers fervently to himself under his breath.

Then, quietly, barely even loud enough for Sam to hear, Dean says, "I did it for Sam."

"What?"

"I did it for Sam. I warned Rhys, that arrogant fuck and he didn't listen. I did it for Sam."

"Sam!" John calls and Sam flinches, fingers clenching in the leg of his pyjama pants. His palms are sweating he's been holding his breath. "Sam!" John calls again and Sam starts. He swallows thickly and opens the door, going only so far as the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, dad?" he calls, trying for casual, as if he hasn't been listening to the entire conversation.

"Come down here for a minute."

Sam knows that this is going to blow up once it all comes out and takes the steps as slowly as he can, drawing out the inevitable. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees that Dean is exactly as he pictured, except that his hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides, still raring for a fight. Their father is pacing back and forth across the living room. John looks up and points at the couch. "Sit. The both of you. You're going to tell me what the hell is going on."

Dean sits at one end of the couch and Sam at the other; they don't look at each other. "Sam, anything you think that maybe I should know?"

Sam chews his lip before he answers, fingers pulling idly at his pant leg. He swallows past the lump in his throat. "I got in a fight with Rhys a couple weeks back."

"You got into a fight?" John asks, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Over what?"

Sam scowls. "Rhys was being an asshole and talking about how I don't have a mom because she's... well. And I got pissed off and I punched him."

A frown pulls at John's mouth. "I still say he deserved it," Sam grouses.

Dean's mouth twists into a smirk. Sighing, John stands from where he's sat on the coffee table between them. "Dean, you're grounded until further notice. Sam, try to keep your temper. Now, get to bed."

Sam slants a glance at his older brother after their father has left the room. Dean returns the look, offers Sam a quirk of the lips before getting up, ruffling Sam's hair as he passes and trudging up the stairs to his room. Sam turns the details over in his head and wishes that he hadn't told Dean that it was Rhys who Sam had come to blows with. It was Sam's fault, even if Rhys did deserve it.

Even if they aren't as close as they once were, Sam is relieved to know that Dean still has his back.

--
The court date is set for a month later. Dean tugs at the collar of his shirt and fusses with the tie that John forces him to wear. Sam feels just as constricted as Dean; his skin feels tight and stretched over his bones.

"Remember," John begins as he straightens Dean's tie once more, "don't give the judge any attitude. Answer all of the questions directly and without preamble."

The judge is young, but has a stern face. He observes the courtroom over the rim of his glasses, eyeing Dean sitting stiffly next to their lawyer. Across the aisle at the other table, Rhys sits with his lawyer, neck held nearly immobile by the brace it's encased in, his face an unsavory mix of greens and yellows from bruises healing and fading.

It's a relatively quick trial, where Dean is served with 500 hours of community service and three months house arrest. Rhys's parents don't seem completely thrilled by the verdict, and they let John know as they're leaving that they're going to file an appeal and get Dean sent to a juvenile detention facility.

He spends the next several months working in a center for victims of abuse. He doesn't talk about it much at home, and often comes home in a dark mood, heading straight to his room and not eating dinner.
--
They have a celebratory barbeque when Dean completes all of his hours, inviting the neighbors and some of Dean's school friends. One thing was for sure, Dean's reputation at school changed in the days leading up to the trial, and not for the better. Most students poorly hid hushed whispers and pointed fingers behind Dean's back as he walked down the hallway.

Mike and Karen as well as some other family friends, mill around the backyard as John mans the grill. Sam sits by himself, picking idly at the potato chips on his plate and taking occasional sips from his cup of punch.

Dean is sitting on the other side of the yard with his friends. They're laughing and joking about something, some stupid joke, probably, trying to pretend like everything is back to normal.

On a plate by the grill, there's a pile of burger patties and hot dogs waiting for their turn. "Dean-o!" John calls, and Sam watches as his brother turns slowly to acknowledge their father. "Burger or dog, kiddo?"

"Burger," Dean answers flatly, and turns seamlessly back to the conversation. John flips a patty into place over the flame and turns to smile at Karen as she comes to stand next to him.
"Glad that appeal from the Martin's didn't go through," she says conversationally and John pauses.

"Well, the judge said that 500 hours and three months house arrest was a suitable conviction. But I'm not going to lie to you, Karen. I almost feel like juvie would have been better. I hate to say it, but what he did to that boy?"

Karen's eyes widen. "You don't really mean that, do you?" She rests a hand on John's arm. "He was just looking out for his family."

"In any other situation, any other person, Karen, you would feel differently. I'm not proud that I feel that way, but, well..."

Karen squeezes John's arm gently. "You don't think that he feels remorse about it?"

John shrugs. "It's hard to say. He's a different person now. I don't know what to think."

John rubs at his chest and winces. Karen’s brow furrow and she touches John’s arm again. “John? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just have this tightness in my chest.”

“Is this the first time you’ve experienced this?” Karen asks.

John shakes his head. “No. On and off over the last few days.”

Karen’s lips flatten. “John, you should have gone to see a doctor. It could be serious!”

He waves her away. “Nah. I’ll be fine. Probably just stress or something.” Suddenly John grabs at his chest, choking in air.

"John? Mike! Mike, something's wrong with John!"

The entire party atmosphere evaporates as everyone crowds around John.

"Dad? Dad!" Dean is shouting, pushing people out of the way to get to his father. John reaches up and Dean is there by his side, eyes wide and worried as he squeezes Dean's hand.

"Sam!" Dean shouts. "Sam, call an ambulance! Call a fucking ambulance!" He's crying when he turns back to his dad. "Dad, please. Come on, you gotta be alright. Please. Please."

--
The ride to the hospital is a blur of noise and flashing lights, Sam gripping his brother's hand as they follow the ambulance in the car with Karen. When Dean had tried to climb into the back, followed by Sam, the paramedic had shaken his head and told them that unfortunately, he couldn’t allow them to ride in the back.

“I’ll go with him, boys. You go with Karen.” Mike says.

“I don’t understand!” Dean says to the paramedic. “We’re his kids! Why can’t we go with him?”
The paramedic frowned. “It’s just standard, boys. Needs to be someone of legal age. Don’t worry. We’ll do everything we can to keep your dad from slipping away.”

Before the doors closed, they watched as the defibrillator was pulled out and the way their father's body jerked as the electric current tried to restart his heart.

--
The wait in the hospital waiting room is impossibly long.

Karen and Mike talk quietly between themselves, Sam's hand caught in the tight grip of Karen's own fingers. Dean paces, tracing the perimeter of the small room in an uncoordinated kind of waltz. His jaw is set tight, and his eyes are hard. His eyes flicker up to Sam's and away on every pass.

When a doctor finally emerges, her face is grave. Dean stops in his tracks the moment the door cracks open, and they stare at each other expectantly; she waiting for Dean to have some kind of screaming fit, and Dean waiting for the verdict - good news or bad.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers as she steps further into the room. Sam sees Dean's throat work as he swallows, the way his eyes cast around the room, focusing on anything but the doctor delivering her standard apologies for now-grieving families. Half phrases make it through: "Best that we could," and "didn't make it," and "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Mike says, arm coming around Dean as he reaches out to shake the doctor's hand. Karen is sobbing behind them, and when Dean looks at his brother over his shoulder, he is stock still, face pale. Dean pulls away from Mike and pries Karen's fingers from around Sam's.

"Come on," he says quietly.

Sam stands and follows Dean as they walk out of the hospital. They pause at the corner, just breathing, and then Dean takes off at a sprint, Sam on his heels, the soft breeze turning into a whipping wind as they run.
--
They turn up back at the house several hours later, Mike and Karen sitting in the living room stand as soon as the door opens.

"Sam? Dean? Is that you?"

Karen envelops them in a hug as soon as they round the corner into the living room.

"We were so worried!" She holds them until it feels awkward, and Sam and Dean pull away carefully.
Karen's bottom lip quivers, holding back tears. "Mike and I think you should stay with us tonight, obviously. We'll handle the details of everything tomorrow, okay?"

One plump tear escapes the corner of her eye and traces a long black trail down her cheek.

They only have one guest room with a double bed, and Karen shrugs a shoulder and says that if it's too weird, someone is more than welcome to take the couch. Sam shrugs, and Dean assures her that it's fine. However, even after she's left, door clicking softly shut behind her, the boys stand and stare at the bed.

"I'll sleep on the floor," Sam offers quietly.

Dean punches him in the shoulder. "Shut up. No you won't. Get in the bed."

That night they sleep fully clothed, no part of them touching, on top of the covers. In the morning, Sam is tucked under Dean's arm, head pillowed on his chest. Neither looks as if they had any rest at all, but the contact between them seems to make a difference.

--
Two days later, their lawyer reads their father's will, leaving the house to Sam and Dean. Mike and Karen are awarded guardianship, at John's request, until Dean is nineteen, at which time, he can legally become Sam's guardian - although Sam can choose to stay with Mike and Karen until he is of legal age as well. Dean also receives the shining black Chevy Impala that sits in the drive.

The body is cremated and a headstone is placed next to Mary's, although no body occupies either space. The urn containing the ashes sits on the mantle above the fireplace, collecting dust, but always a reminder.
--
Dean graduates when he's eighteen and on his nineteenth birthday, packs up and moves into an apartment across town. The house that he and Sam inherited was sold within a couple years, a decision that was made by Sam and Dean both; neither of them was comfortable living in a house where they family had died.

Sam, fifteen and hitting the peak of his rebellious stage blows up at Mike and Karen who've become worn down and tired of dealing with the two boys over the three years they were in their care, demanding that now that his brother is old enough, that he should be able to leave and go live with him. Karen is against it, and Mike is resigned. No resolution is come to, but they are not surprised when Sam doesn't come home for a few days. When they call Dean, just to check, they are relieved to know that Sam is with someone safe.

"I think that you should go back, Sam," Dean tells him after he hangs up the phone. "I mean, I like having you around and everything, but I'm not ready for this kind of responsibility."

"I hate it there! Karen hovers. She acts like I’m something fragile that’s going to break. She’s not my mother!”

Dean sighs. "You never even knew mom," he reminds gently. "Karen is about as close to one as you ever got."

Furious, Sam crosses his arms and slumps back into the cushions of the worn, second-hand couch that Dean acquired. "One more day, okay?"

"Okay."

Two days later, Sam is back in his room at Karen and Mike's. He doesn't want to be there, but he’s made a deal with Dean. It's only two and a half years until Sam graduates, and then he can do whatever he wants.

Karen gives Sam a watery smile when he comes in the door, and Mike holds back from patting him on the shoulder. The atmosphere is tense and Sam thinks it’s worse than it was before.

At school, Sam starts spending an hour every afternoon in the counselor’s office, talking about losing his mom and dad and how it feels to have people he's known his entire life try to fill those roles. In the long run it doesn't do much to make Sam feel better about things, but at least all the things he feels aren't bottled up inside him all the time.

--
In his last years of high school, Sam throws himself into school work, becoming an honor student and less of a social outcast. The incident with Rhys is more or less forgotten in the years since Dean had graduated, and the black cloud that once hung over the Winchester name seems to have completely dissipated.

He goes to prom with Laura Coffey, the head cheerleader, and they get elected Prom King and Prom Queen.

He loses his virginity to her. It wasn’t an experience that he wants to talk to anyone about and they break up three days later. He isn't upset about it, since word around the school campus was that she was kind of a slut.

Every school application Sam fills out comes back with thick envelopes filled with congratulations and warm welcomes, trying to entice him to pick their school to attend in the coming fall. He wins a scholarship to any school of his choice, full ride, and he's not sure what to decide: Berkley, Stanford, Brown? He thinks about how much he wants to just get out of Lawrence for a while, be a different person, be his own person. He thinks about how hard it's been to not have Dean living at home with him for the last couple of years and how much harder it will be if he leaves.

In the end, Sam decides to go to Kansas University in Lawrence to be close. He tells Karen and Mike that he's going to Stanford, take advantage of that California sun. That summer, Sam buys a truck - an old beat up Ford. It runs good and is in decent condition. He tells them that he's going to drive there, take time to clear his head and get ready for a fresh start.

Karen cries.

Mike gives him a manly slap on the shoulder and wishes him luck, reminds him to keep in touch.

Sam has never been a very good liar, but he smiles and says that he will. He gets in his truck, all packed and loaded with his stuff, and takes off down the street, watching as the house that he grew up in, and one that was never really home, fades in the rear view mirror. He turns left at the end of the street, as if heading out to the highway. The cell phone, clunky and new, that he bought two days earlier and that only contains one number - Dean's - sits on the seat next to him. It's the last time he sees Mike and Karen.
--
It's a surprise when Dean opens the door to his apartment and finds Sam standing there.

"Sam!" Dean says eyes wide. "I thought you'd be half way to California by now, from the way Mike was talking about it."

"I'm not going to California, Dean."

Dean's brow crinkles in confusion. "What? Of course you are. Stanford? Full ride?" He confusion turns to anger. "Did I fucking miss the memo when you completely changed gears here?"

"I just told Karen and Mike that I was going to Stanford. I'm going to KU."

Dean's face slackens in shock. "You lied to them?"

Sam's jaw tightens but he doesn't respond. He made the right decision, he's sure of it.
"Look, I just. I wanted you to know that I'm still in town though, okay? I mean, if I'm being honest here, you're the reason I'm not leaving in the first place. Don't tell them, okay? Please?"

"I- Sam, I don't know, man..."

"Please, Dean. Just, if they ask if you've heard from me, tell them whatever. Just don't tell them that I'm still in Lawrence." He glances down at his watch. "I gotta go. I'll call you later."

Dean stands at the door watching as Sam retreats down the hallway. Who is this man that his brother has grown into?

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