Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Rating: PG-13- NC-17
Genre: Crossover
Type: Romance
Pairing: Max Guevara/ Sam Winchester
Summary: What if... Max had been having a different dream?
Spoilers/ Timeline: This starts when Max is thirteen and going into heat for the very first time.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first please.
A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as When It Changes, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what might have happened.
Chapter Eleven
Breaking The Unbreakable
"Max, what's wrong?" Sam asked, cornering her away from Dean and John , speaking quietly.
"It's nothing Sam," she answered, equally as quiet.
"I know something's bothering you," Sam tried again, trying for sympathetic. "Can't you talk to me about it?"
"Hey guys?" John called from the front door. "Eat out or order in?" Both he and Dean waited expectantly.
"Eat out," Max answered, even as Sam said the opposite.
"Order in!" Wary glances were exchanged all around. John tilted his head towards the door and Dean immediately understood his intentions.
"We're gonna go for a drive," John announced. "Call me when you two figure out what you want to do." He followed after his eldest. The message was clear. Sort out whatever was wrong between them so that they didn't end up with a repeat of their last stand-off. Max watched the door until the sound of the Impala's engine had faded away. She moved around Sam and sat on the bed, spreading her mail around her. Sam knelt before her trying to catch her eye.
"Max? What is it? Did I do something to upset you?" he asked earnestly and her startled eyes swung around to meet his. Her face softened, to a tremulous smile. She framed his face with her hands and gave him a lingering, reassuring kiss.
"No, it wasn't you," she informed him. She half turned and began rummaging through the pile of papers. "It's just, I wasn't expecting this so soon and it threw me." Sam watched her, puzzled as she withdrew a clothing catalog from her ream of mail.
"Expecting what?" he asked. "The exam results?"
"No. These," Max answered as she tipped several letters onto her lap. Sam caught them before they fell to the floor. He frowned in consternation as he realized that they were all addressed to him and where they were from.
"Oh man," he sighed. It all made sense now. "We knew this was coming," he told her softly. "But honestly, I was hoping it would be later too." That admission softened her even further and she kissed him again. He dropped the letters, much preferring to pull her closer, melding themselves together as her lips parted beneath his. It was several long minutes before they reluctantly broke apart, studying each other with loving eyes.
Finally Max whispered," you should open those." Nodding, Sam gathered them up again and took a seat at the head of the bed. He held his hand out to her and she joined him, settling between his legs, leaning back against his chest. She never told him and never seemed to have to, that she felt a sense of safety and surety when he held her like that. As if, with him wrapped around her, nothing bad in this world could touch her. She had the sneaking suspicion that Sam liked it for similar reasons. She watched as his long fingers separated the envelopes and he chose one at seeming random. Together they read his entrance had been granted at Montana State University, which offered several locations to choose from.
"Montana would be good," Max murmured. "We already have friends there."
"That's true," Sam conceded quietly. "We know the area, at least Great Falls. I don't remember Billings." Max took the brochures that had been included and fanned them out in her hand.
"Any specific programs they offer that you'd be interested in?"
"Mm, nothing specific," Sam sighed. "It was mostly the location." She nodded and took the letter from him, folding everything together again as neatly as before. She set that one aside and waited patiently for Sam to choose another. Northwestern, though printed on heavier and fancier paper, read almost word for word with Montana, which made them both smile. Again they debated the merits. Lastly, Sam picked up the letter from Stanford, just as thick as the other two. Sam withdrew several sheets of papers and pamphlets. Again, the words of acceptance were a relief. And before Max could even begin to ask what would draw him there, Sam was setting aside the letter and flipping through the pamphlets. Max smiled indulgently. Before now, he'd never betrayed a preference, but now she knew.
"So you're liking Stanford, huh?"
"Well," Sam hedged, grinning. "They've got a lot of good programs."
"Not to mention, sunny California."
"Good weather year round is a nice bonus."
Max chuckled as she picked up the letter and ran her finger over the school emblem. And then, wondering why there were several sheets, she rifled through them, her eyes widening as she read the information imparted on them. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Sam? Look!"
"What sweetie?" he asked distractedly, still poring over a pamphlet.
"Sam! They're offering you a scholarship!"
"What?"
Max dislodged herself to turn and face him. "Mrs. Stapleton wrote to them on your behalf, requesting a scholastic achievement scholarship. It says here that if your grades meet their requirements, you'll have the scholarship. Here! Read it!" She thrust the paper at him and his eyes scanned it rapidly.
"I can't... Wow," he mumbled. He looked up at Max. "I told her that I was thinking of applying there. I can't believe she did this!"
"Oh Sam," Max grinned as she hugged him. He was elated as well. A scholarship was a huge weight off their shoulders. He didn't relish the idea of large student loans. And it would be a selling point with John, Sam hoped. "So?" Max asked as she pulled back. "Stanford then?"
"Well," Sam chewed at the corner of his lip. "It was my first choice."
"Then you should take it," Max announced. Sam nodded slowly as if hardly daring to believe that this was happening. "It kind of feels good, doesn't it?" Max continued. "To have at least one thing figured out."
"Yeah it does."
"But now, here's another question. When do you tell dad?" It was a heavy question to debate. In the end, Sam decided that the sooner he told John, the better, to give his father time to get used to the idea. That decided, Max called them to let them know that they'd be eating out, though not saying why they had decided on that. John asked if everything had been settled between them and Max told him that it had been a necessary conversation, not a fight. And that Sam would tell them about it at dinner.
Taking John's truck, they arrived at the restaurant that the others had chosen. The older Winchester's were already seated, their drinks before them. Sam could see that they were eager to discover what was going on, but the waitress arrived to take Max and Sam's drink orders the moment they sat down. They both ordered coffee, though John frowned at Max and then decided the argument wasn't worth it. Instead, he turned his gaze to his son, leaning forward in his seat.
"All right, what's going on?"
Sam sighed quietly and slowly returned his menu to the table. "It's nothing bad," he assured his father, removing the letters he'd brought with him and sliding them over to his father. "I just got these in the mail today." John spread the envelopes apart, taking in the names of the senders and what they meant.
"You applied to college?" he asked softly and Sam nodded.
"And I was accepted. Those ones anyways. I haven't heard from the other two yet."
There was silence as John studied the envelopes again. Dean, looking from his brother to his sister, was rapidly putting things together in his mind. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. Sam had said that they'd figured out a way to handle their relationship, but leaving? For several years? Admittedly, it wasn't the worst idea in the world. As much as Dean liked having his family together, Sam and Max were a time bomb just waiting to explode. The decision made, he pasted a huge grin on his face that wasn't totally fake and clapped his brother on the back.
"Dude! That's awesome!" he congratulated Sam, very aware of the gratitude on his little brother's face. "Where'd you get in?"
"MSU, Great Falls or Billing, Northwestern and Stanford," Sam informed him as Dean nodded. It wasn't really in his scope of interest, but he still recognized that two were very prestigious schools. Sam turned back to look at his father. "Look Dad, I know you're probably not thrilled about this-!"
"Who says I'm not?" John grunted. "Of course I'm-! This is great Sam. I'm proud of you! It's just the part of you leaving that I wouldn't like."
Sam nodded, his tongue darting out to moisten nervously dry lips. "I wouldn't really like it either. That's uh, that's why I was thinking we could do like we did in Geraldine. You know, settle down in one place. I could go to school and you can go on hunts."
John frowned, considering the idea just presented to him. He was about to respond, but the waitress returned to take their orders. As the others hastily decided what they wanted, Dean rattled off his order automatically. Sam's idea was a good one, but for one major flaw that he saw instantly. Money. And it was this issue that John addressed as soon as the woman had left the table.
"Sam," he began quietly, "I would really like for you to be able to go. But the idea just isn't feasible for so long a time. It's just money we don't have."
"It's not as bad as you think," Max finally spoke up, leaning forward as well. "Sam got a scholarship."
"What?" John's eyebrows furrowed as his gaze swung around to stare at the envelopes again.
"At Stanford," Sam informed him. "It's a scholastic merit award. Ms. Fowler, I mean, Mrs. Stapleton applied for it on my behalf."
"Wait," Dean interrupted. "They're gonna give you money just for being smart?" Sam grinned and nodded. "Whoa! How much we talking about here?" Max obligingly slid the information over to him and his eyes widened as he read the amount. "Dude! We should have done this a long time ago."
"With what? Your brain?" Sam smirked. "Yeah, I suppose some spare change would've come in handy."
John ignored the boys banter, taking back the scholarship information and reading it over himself. The amount was impressive. But it wasn't just about money for school. "That's enough boys," he spoke gently, but it was enough to bring an immediate halt to their antics. He waited until he had his son's full attention. "Sammy, this is impressive," he remarked, gesturing to the letter. "But it would only cover so much. Settling down somewhere entails a lot of things. Rent being the main thing. To support this, I'd have to get a full time job and I just can't do that and hunt as much as I need to," Sam inhaled sharply. "Right now," John continued. "I'm saying right now. There's too many... things happening. Who knows what might happen a few years from now. I don't want you to give this up completely. I'm just saying that I can't see a way for it to work at this point. Do you understand?" Sam frowned, but yes, he did understand his father's position, even if he didn't necessarily agree with it.
"I understand," he conceded. "But Dad? If we figure out some way...?"
"Then I'll definitely consider it," John assured him with a half-smile. "Now, unless someone else has some other announcement?"
"Um," Max coughed and hesitantly held up her hand, looking around meekly. When all eyes were on her, she continued. "I just thought you should all know that I secretly entered the beauty pageant circuit. And my handler thinks that I'd be a shoo-in for Miss America in three years. But I'd have to represent a uh, woefully underpopulated state. So he recommends that we move... to Alaska!" The three men goggled at her until she grinned and wiggled her nose at them. The laughter that greeted the waitress as she brought their appetizers was uproarious.
*****
"So have you come up with anything yet?" Dean asked of his brother, as Sam sat at the motel table, perusing the screen of his laptop. Max and John were out at the county courthouse, checking records.
"Yeah," Sam muttered. "You were right about the patterns. Three different cycles throughout the years, but I still haven't found what-!"
"No college boy," Dean interrupted, snorting with amusement. "I meant with the school thing?" Sam blinked and glanced away from the screen, quickly orienting himself to the new topic of conversation.
"Yeah, actually we did," he enthused. "Max found a great site about different federal grants and stuff that I can apply for over and above the scholarship. You know, to cover housing and stuff. And we were thinking, if we were careful with the money, we could get like a two bedroom apartment."
"I don't know Sam," Dean sighed. "Settling in California, that's an awful long drive to some of our cases."
"I know," Sam grunted. "But there's nothing that says you'd have to drive all the way back every single time. You could work your way back and forth across the country and have a place when you need it." Dean mulled it over. By damn, the kid had come up with a workable solution.
"When would you know about the money?"
"That's the tough part," Sam sighed. "There's only a five day window of applications for these things. And because they're federal, each state only gets a certain amount alloted to it. And I wouldn't be the only person applying for it."
"So no guarantees, huh?"
"There rarely are," Sam rolled his eyes. "But Max is working on some other ways of coming up with some money."
"Like what?" Dean wondered aloud.
"I think she said something about the stock market," Sam grinned.
Dean's lips curved up at the corners. "Hey, we shouldn't scoff at her money making skills. She is the one who bankrolled a brand new motorcycle in what... a month?"
"Yeah there is that. And you know, I can always get a part time job."
Dean frowned. "No. The whole point of you going to college is to learn, not run yourself ragged trying to make ends meet."
"Ah," Sam sighed mockingly, "I didn't know you cared so much."
Dean shook his head with a snort and Sam turned back to his computer. Dean chewed at the corner of his lips for a moment. "You know Sammy," he spoke carefully, "I'm not totally thrilled with the family... going our separate ways, you know?" Sam glanced at him. "But I... admire how you're handling this with Max." Sam eyed him thoughtfully.
"Yeah," he finally agreed. "I mean, it's not perfect and not exactly what we wanted, but at least this way, we'd have some time. We'd get to see each other occasionally."
"Yeah," Dean concurred.
"But do you know what I really like about this?" Sam grinned. Dean eyed him warily, his body tensing as he sensed an overtly touchy-feely moment coming on.
"What?" he asked guardedly. Sam leaned forward, his elbows on his legs.
"I just really keep thinking about how I'll have my own room and my own bed and how-!"
"Whoa!" Dean yelled. "Too much info there Romeo!"
"-won't have to put up with your raggedy snoring butt!" Sam finished with a laugh over Dean's protests.
"Excuse me?" Dean hissed playfully. "I'll have you know that no one would say I snore because of the chainsaw I have to share a bed with, bitch!"
"Jerk!"
"Oh for crying out loud!" Max snorted as she and John returned many minutes later to see the boys tumbling about the room, wrestling with each other. "Isn't it just typical that we're out bustin' our butts and they've been playing this whole time?" she asked of John. He just smiled good-naturedly.
"Take it back!" Dean snorted as he finally managed to get a decent hold on his brother.
"Can't take back the truth," Sam laughed as he tried to wriggle free. "You snore Dean. Get over it!"
"Better break it up boys," John warned, "before she gets the ice water." They both glanced up at Max, with her arms crossed, foot tapping, her eyebrow quirked up at them.
"I hate to break it to you boys, but you both snore," Max announced. The brothers exchanged amused glances.
"This coming from she who rattles the roof?" Dean scoffed.
"Hey! I do not snore," Max protested.
"Actually you do," Dean insisted, "when you actually, you know, sleep?" Max's glance darted to Sam and she arched an eyebrow at him.
"Sorry sweetie, but you do." He bit his tongue as soon as the endearment slipped out, but John didn't seem to notice because the older man was watching Max work herself into a snit. Her hands went to her hips as she squared off with the boys.
"Okay, I may purr like a kitten, on occasion, but I DO NOT snore."
"Don't you mean growl like a mountain lion?" Dean smirked. Max pursed her lips, smirked a little herself and leaned forward slightly.
"Do you really want to get into this with me?" she asked archly. Sam, suppressing his smile, yanked at his brother's arm and spoke quickly.
"No ma'am, we surely do not."
"All right then," she smiled, contentedly and moved to take a folder from John. Dean sniffed, as if offended. "I coulda taken her," he announced in a loud whisper.
"Only in your dreams Dean."
"All right," John chuckled. "What have you boys come up with?" he asked, bringing an end to the amusing diversion.
*****
"Hey Max?" Dean called for her attention quietly, several hours later.
"Yeah?" she glanced up from the papers she was poring over. Dean glanced at where John and Sam were looking over information on the computer.
"I was wondering if you wanted to take a little road trip with me tomorrow?
"And do what?" she asked, also quiet.
"I'll explain it all tomorrow, but I was thinking of doing something for Sammy."
Her face instantly darkened. "What are you planning now?" she demanded harshly.
"Ouch! You wound me," Dean pouted. "Look, it's nothin' bad, I promise. And you don't have to help."
"No," Max grinned. "I'll go, if only to keep an eye on you." He nodded and patted her on the leg before returning to his own research.
*****
Once again, Max was sitting in the Impala, on an errand with Dean with no real clue as to what was going on. "So you gonna tell me what you're up to?" Max demanded.
"Oh, it's no big deal," Dean shrugged. "I was just thinking that it'd be nice for Sam to have a little something. You know, to show how proud we are of him."
"That would be nice," Max agreed. "What were you thinking of?"
"Well, I wasn't really sure at first," Dean sighed. "I thought of a lot of stuff. But none of it really meant anything, you know? And then I thought of this." He took one hand off the wheel to dig through his pocket and withdrew a small box. He held it out and Max took it. She pulled the lid off and wondered why he would want to give Sam a misshapen, charred lump of silver. But its familiarity tugged at her mind and she gasped audibly.
"Was this-?"
"Mom's wedding band?" Dean finished for her. "Yeah. One of the few things that survived the fire." He paused, his eyes sternly on the traffic. "I figured he'd like that. Having something of Mom's. You know, she'd be thrilled about him going to college."
"Of course," Max agreed, her eyes misty. "What mother wouldn't?"
Dean snuck a glance at her and snorted. "Hey! Don't go gettin' all girly on me." She straightened up with a smile and returned the lid to the box.
"Right. Sorry. So we're on our way to do what?"
"Well, I found a place that can resize it, fix it up," he explained. "I mean, he might not want to wear it, but just in case..." Dean didn't tell her what he was truly thinking. He doubted that Sam would wear the ring and the truth was, Dean didn't mean for Sam to do so. Because really, who better to wear a woman's ring, than a woman. Not that he was thinking that Sam should propose! No, he was thinking more along the lines of like, a promise ring. That was the sort of traditionalist crap that his brother was into. And he didn't have to give her that specific ring. No, today's mission was getting information. Max's ring size, the sort of thing she liked. That way, if Sam needed a nudge in the right direction, his big brother would be there as always to guide him.
Once at the mall, he led the way to the jewelry store. He was happy to see that both employees in the store were busy with other customers. He stopped to loiter at one of the glass counters that housed some of the ring collections. He let his eyes wander over the sparkling, twinkling jewels. He let out a low whistle at some of the rocks.
"Hey, look at that Maxie," he whispered, gesturing to a large square-cut diamond. She barely glanced at it and gave a distracted murmur. "Oh come on," Dean complained. How could he figure out what Max liked if she wouldn't cooperate? "You can't tell me that not one of these rings doesn't set your little heart blazing with greed?"
Max laughed at that. "Oh, I'm allowed to be a girl now?" she demanded. Dean frowned at her.
"Huh?"
"I'm supposed to like girly things, but not indulge in the emotions that go along with my gender?" she asked teasingly.
"Exactly," Dean huffed. "I'm glad you finally figured that out." Max laughed again and leaned over to look at the ring that Dean had indicated.
"It's okay," she pronounced quietly. "A little gaudy though."
"Oh? What do you like better?" Max's eyes roamed over the case as she shrugged. But then something caught her eye and she moved down the case a little way. Dean trailed after her.
"Look at these," she enthused, gesturing at a grouping of rings. Several of the bands, though silver or gold, were without jeweled enhancement. Most had small diamonds or other gems surrounded by intricate designs.
"Ah," a new voice intruded. "I see you found our Ashley collection," a middle aged man announced. Dean and Max glanced up at his arrival. "They're very popular with the younger generation. Just perfect for the young lady starting her collection," he added enticingly, but Max blushed and shook her head.
"I was just looking," she murmured.
"Oh but there's no harm in a closer look if something has caught your fancy," he encouraged as he unlocked the sliding door, ready to serve.
"Go ahead Maxie," Dean encouraged as well, giving her a slight nudge. Max smiled softly and gestured at a row of rings.
"Those are nice," she offered and the gentleman reached in, his hand hovering. "The blue and silver one," Max told him. He smiled as his hand descended.
"Yes, Ashley Entwined we call this one." He pulled the tray out and set it on the glass counter. "Hm, you'd be about a size six," the man murmured.
"Oh, I don't know," Max exclaimed, exchanging a puzzled glance with Dean. "I've never really worn rings before."
"Don't worry," the employee assured her. "It's easy enough to discover. If I may?" He had pulled a long thin strip of paper from his pocket and gestured to Max's hand. She obliged and he quickly measured both middle fingers and ring fingers on each hand. "You are perfectly matched," he smiled. "Size six and six and a half. We often find slight variations between hands," he explained as he worked the proper ring free from the foam setting. He slid it onto her right hand, holding her loosely as he began to describe the properties and design significance of the ring.
"And it doesn't hurt that blue happens to be Sammy's favorite color, huh Maxie?" Dean teased, nudging her shoulder again. "Her boyfriend," he explained to the clerk in a loud whisper.
"Ah," their server exclaimed with a knowing smile at the blushing girl. Max gave him another shy smile as she removed the ring and handed it back to him.
"Thank you," she murmured and then turned to Dean. "Meet you at the food court?"
"All right," Dean nodded and waited until she had moved away. The employee, finished putting the tray back, waited expectantly. "Her boyfriends' going off to college," Dean explained. "She's a little down." He glanced down thoughtfully at the ring she'd admired. "I'll have to drop a hint or two his way. But actually, I'd called earlier about having a ring repaired?"
The man's face brightened as he made the connection. He quickly locked the case they were at. "If you'll come with me sir, we'll get the work order filled out so we can begin." He led Dean to sit at a small table off in the corner of the store. He pulled a pad of papers and a pen from a drawer on his side. "I believe you said that the ring had been in a fire?"
"Yeah," Dean concurred, his voice slightly husky as he withdrew the box from his pocket. He handed it over, saying as he did, "it was my mom's."
The man threw him a sympathetic look, catching the words as he accepted the box with a low murmured, "my condolences." Dean barely acknowledged it. The ring was studied, the jeweler fetched. He assured Dean that he could return the ring to wearable use, although there could be some alteration to the width. It would be accomplished in two days. The salesman tore off Dean's copy of the work order, rummaged for another moment in another drawer, extracted a pamphlet and handed both to Dean.
"What's this?" Dean asked, looking at the pamphlet.
"Just a... helpful hint," the guy said with a smile and small nod. Dean caught the title, the girl's name and he grinned as well. Visual reference, always a good thing. Dean thanked him with a grin and then headed off to find Max. When they got back to the motel, Dean waited until Max went off to bathe and John was occupied. He took a seat near Sam, making a slight show out of clearing out his jacket pockets. He let the pamphlet slide to the bed cover, pretending not to notice it.
"What's this?" Sam asked as he picked up the glossy paper.
"Huh?" Dean muttered casually.
"Something you want to tell me?" Sam teased as he studied the pictures of girl's rings.
"Where'd that come from?" Dean tried to inject a note of surprise into his voice.
"You tell me," Sam grinned. "It was in your coat."
"Oh hey," Dean pointed at one of the rings pictured. "There's that ring that Max liked." Sam stared at his brother a moment before shaking his head and folding the pamphlet back up.
"Dean, your hints have all the subtlety of a Mack truck."
Dean grunted. "Okay, so the hinting needs work. But remember who was complimenting who on the advice, little bro."
"It's whom Dean," Sam corrected automatically. Dean gave him a playful shove and Sam went back to what he had been doing. But Dean noticed how his eyes strayed to the glossy flyer and how when he gathered up his papers, the sheet was tucked in with them instead of being thrown away.
*****
When Dean received the call that his mother's ring was ready, he invited Max to come along with him once again. Sam and John had had another terse go around the evening before about the college thing and it was like walking on eggshells the next day. By the mutinous looks on both of their faces, Dean figured that another blowout was imminent. And frankly, Dean was getting tired of playing referee between them. Max, probably sensing the same tension that he was, agreed to go with alacrity. They took their time, hoping that by the time they returned, the air would be a lot clearer between father and son. They just had to give it plenty of time.
Dean and Max meandered through the mall, stopping to look at anything that caught their interest. It was late morning by the time they finally wandered into the jewelry store. The same man, Brian, according to the receipt Dean had, greeted them and retrieved the ring. Dean, looking it over, was happy with the results and paid for the service done, while Max once again looked over the different sets of jewelry Her eyes, Dean noticed, did happen to linger more often on a certain specific tray.
He treated her to lunch at one of the mall's fast food kiosks and she asked if he minded her doing a little clothes shopping. She needed to replace some jeans that were getting too ragged for her to wear anymore. Dean didn't mind and they arranged to meet in an hour.
She was just back in time, carrying not one, but several bags. She'd gotten her jeans, she informed him and then found a sale on silk screened T-shirts. She just had to show him what she'd picked out. He grimaced over the first, a baby blue Tee with a picture of a God-awful baby monkey on the front. He wondered what the hell she'd been thinking until she turned it around to show him very aptly, the back of the shirt, with the monkey's hind end shown , its tail straight up in the air and the words 'locked and loaded' underneath. They had a good laugh. Next was a white shirt with a purply silhouette of a wolf baying at the moon. She dug around the bag and pulled out a black and white AC/DC shirt. And lastly was her favorite. A black T-shirt with the words 'girls kick ass' emblazoned across the chest in sparkling silver. Dean appropriately admired her choices, how could he not and then asked if there was anything else she needed to do. There wasn't, so they decided it was time to head back to the motel.
They laughed and joked on the way back. Max admired how Mary's ring had turned out. They talked of the next hunt that John had lined up, speculating on what they'd be hunting. Max was relating some of the more outlandish things that she and Sam had come across while searching online as Dean pulled into the motel, alongside the truck. They were just climbing out of the car when the motel door was jerked open and John emerged. He looked startled, to see them so suddenly, but as his gaze fell on Max's face, his own darkened drastically and he strode to his truck and left without a word to either of them. They watched as he sped away, shared a wary glance and headed to their room. What they found only furthered their surprise.
Sam was packing his duffel bag.
"We packin' up man?" Dean asked as casually as he could. Sam shook his head, his back still to them. "Oh, just doin' a little reorganizing then huh?" Sam stilled and Max moved to his side.
"Sam?" she asked. "What happened?"
"He knows," Sam murmured, staring down at the bag before him. He turned his head just a fraction of an inch as he clarified, "about us." Max inhaled sharply. She didn't need to ask to know that things had gone badly.
"And Dad finally finding out leads to you packing your bags, how?" Dean demanded. In truth, he felt relief that John finally knew the truth. He didn't like lying to his father and did so only because it wasn't his secret to tell and they weren't endangering anyone with what they were doing.
"He kicked me out," Sam explained slowly, as if it were still unreal to him.
Max gasped and let out a small "no!"
"He wants me gone before he gets back," Sam continued and Max cried out again, her arms reaching for him. He accepted her embrace, resting his chin on her head.
Dean scoffed. "There's gotta be some mistake. Didn't you tell him-!"
"I told him everything," Sam broke in angrily. "We were fighting about college again, how he couldn't understand why I was so determined to go now. So I told him... about everything. But after certain things... he just refused to listen anymore."
"But that's not fair," Max cried softly, pulling back. "Why is he blaming you and punishing you? This isn't something you just did to me."
"But that's just it," Sam's face was a mask of pain. "I'm older and I should have known better." He and Max stared at one another.
"Dude," Dean broke in hastily, "don't. You just need to give Dad time to calm down. Give him some time to accept this."
"I don't think he will Dean," Sam shook his head wearily. "Not if I'm here. He's just going to keep simmering about it. I think its better... if I leave now," he concluded, his arms tightening around Max as she gave another muffled protest. Dean leaned against the wall, his thoughts swirling around his mind rapidly. Sam was right. Their father held a grudge like no one else in the world they knew. And if Sam stayed, they would constantly be fighting. And he and Max would always be caught in the middle. He swore mentally. Once again there was no easy answer. He pushed away from the wall and caught Sam's eye, gave him a knowing look and left the motel room. He didn't go far, just out to the car, to give them some privacy so they could say their farewells.
Sam looked haggard as he finally emerged half an hour later from the motel, his bags in hand. He set one bag down and pulled the door shut behind himself. With his other hand, he stuffed something into his jacket pocket.
"What's that?" Dean asked as he straightened up and approached his brother.
"Max gave me some money," Sam explained. "Insisted upon it, actually. Said she didn't want me homeless and starving."
Dean gave a sketchy smile and then nodded to the car. "Hop in," he directed. "I'll give you a ride to the bus station."
"No, it's okay, I'll walk," Sam declined and turned to glance at the door he'd just shut. "I don't think she should be alone right now."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Dean decided. "So, I guess this is goodbye then?" he muttered, not meeting his brother's eyes.
"Just for now," Sam managed to smile. He held out his hand and Dean took it, shook it once and then yanked his brother into a hug.
"You take care of yourself Sammy," he muttered thickly. "Because if anything happens to you, I will come to Stanford and happily kick your ass!" He let go, but held the back of Sam's neck, shaking him lightly, looking him straight in the eye. "And then I'll turn Max loose on you!" Sam grinned. It was a worthy threat. But he sobered up quickly.
"You'll take care of her? Right Dean?" he asked in a small voice. Dean furrowed his eyebrows and glared at his brother, as if he really had to ask.
"Hey! It's what I do, right?"
Sam smiled again. "I'm really going to miss you Dean."
"Yeah," Dean sniffed once. "But you know, you can't miss me until you're gone." Sam nodded and stooped to pick up his bag. He gave Dean a tight smiled and resolutely walked away.
Dean watched until his brother had faded from sight before he re-entered the motel room. Max was sitting on the bed closest to the door, her gaze resting on the floor. Dean took a seat next to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. It took several long minutes before she finally gave way to the tears that shook the bed with their intensity. It lasted for a long while before her sobs slowed to hiccuping.
"Hey now," Dean told her gently, resting his cheek on her head. "Now Sammy told me I had to take care of you, so I'm just wondering... you think you'll keep springing a leak like this often?"
Max pushed away from him and gave a weak, wry chuckle as she mopped her eyes and face dry with the sleeve of her shirt. "I guess I'll survive," she muttered weakly. "It's what we do, right?"
"Damn straight!" Dean answered evenly and then more softly, "just give it time Maxie. Things'll get better."
*****
He was wrong. After a month, things had deteriorated even worse than he knew, or would have known if it hadn't been for a timely call from his little brother. Dean was aware of course, that John was still barely talking to Max. The old man just didn't seem to know what to say. Right after he'd come back after Sam had left, they'd gone on the hunt he had arranged. But for the next one, he'd sent Max and Dean on their own while he took care of some other business. What it had been, he wouldn't say and Dean had his suspicions. But when he'd met up with them, Max had been on the phone with Sam and it had brought whatever anger that had lingered, back to the forefront.
More often than not, he'd pass directives through Dean, until Dean got tired of it and refused to continue. John got around that by simply announcing when things needed to be done. Max eventually figured that if Dean's name wasn't in there somewhere, then John meant for her to take care of it. The funny thing about the situation though, was that Dean honestly thought that John was having a tougher time of the pair. Max had himself and Sam to bolster her spirits, but John? He just pushed them all away.
But Sam's wake-up call scared the crap out of Dean and he resolved to deal with it immediately. He found his father at the bar, nursing a beer. Dean took a seat next to John and signaled the bartender for a beer and withdrew a folded piece of paper from his coat. He ran his finger along the folded edge and waited until the bartender slid his beer to him, took the cash and moved away.
"I just thought you should know," he began quietly, "that Max packed up and left." He took a large gulp of the chilled liquid as John's head snapped around, his startled eyes meeting his son's.
"What?" he demanded fearfully.
"And don't worry," Dean continued relentlessly. "She's not racing off to be with Sammy. No, she doesn't want to give you another excuse to hate him. Nope, she's gonna stay out of the way, only God knows where." Dean threw the paper to the bar and John's hand dove for the supposed missive. His features went from horrified, to puzzled and then angry as he realized that the paper was blank. He scowled and let the paper flutter down to the bar.
"That wasn't funny Dean," he grunted, staring straight ahead again.
"Yeah, I didn't think so either," Dean growled, slamming his beer back to the bar and turning in his seat to face his father. "But you know what? That's the conversation we'd be having if Sammy hadn't called and warned me. And if he hadn't actually convinced Max to stay put while I tried to perform a head from up your ass-ectomy!"
"What?" John demanded again, his eyes haunted.
"I get that you're pissed about this Dad, for whatever hundreds of reasons. Hell, I was too. But it happened and now you need to actually deal with it instead of blaming them for things they couldn't control."
"I don't blame them," John announced softly, unable to meet Dean's scornful and unbelieving stare. "I blame myself," he whispered and tipped his beer back suddenly, guzzling it down. That took the wind out of Dean's indignant sails.
"You can blame yourself all you want to Dad," he told his father gently. "But it won't change what's already happened." John's shoulders hunched over a little more. "Come on Dad," he urged, "this isn't like you." That got no reaction. "You're the guy that gets things done, instead of moping about it. So go do your job."
"My job?" John asked sarcastically.
"Yeah, you know?" Dean's tone easily equaled his father's. "Being a father? That thing you signed on for when you made Max a part of our family? 'Cause honestly Dad, I can't do it. I can't be Max's brother and her friend and her father figure. I can't be the only link she has anymore. She needs you!"
It finally seemed to sink in and John wiped his hand over his face. He pushed the empty beer bottle away from himself and stood. He threw several bills on the bar to cover his tab and then turned to head for the exit. He paused when he realized that Dean wasn't following. "You coming?" he demanded gruffly.
"Nope," Dean shook his head. "The other thing Sam told me was that there was an article in his local paper that we needed to check out." John raised an eyebrow, since one of Sam's last parting blows to his father was that he was done with hunting. "He would have said more, but his roommate was there."
"Really?" John asked. Dean shrugged.
"He told me that even though he was done with it, he still figured that someone should know about it. So I guess I'll be busy researching, huh?"
John nodded and turned away. So his life had never been perfect. Sam's leaving had been a devastating blow and his rejection of everything that John held to be important had seared. So this... well, at least it was something.
RTD12- Damaging Days
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