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“or he's the one (as in a dream of mine) I must pull from the water but I never knew it or wouldn't have done it until I saw the street-theater play so close up I was moved to actions I'd never before taken” — dick lourie, forgiving our fathers
Dean would have never seen the flyer if he wasn’t rifling through Sam’s tattered book bag. A habit mostly leftover from years of needing to make sure Sam’s homework was done and any permission slips signed.
“What’s this?” Dean asks, holding up the yellow paper. Sam lifts his head up from behind the small fridge door in their kitchenette and immediately grimaces. He stalks over to Dean and snatches the paper out of his hand.
“Nothin’ jeez,” Sam bites out before heading over to the bed, crumpling the paper in his fist, “why are you going through my bag anyway?”
Dean follows Sam over to where he’s sitting.
“To make sure my pain in the ass brother isn’t failing out of school. Besides, it doesn't look like nothing with the way you’re acting.”
Dean launches forward in a desperate attempt to snatch the page up but somehow Sam is quicker. Dean would be proud of Sam’s quick reflexes if his goal wasn’t to see what’s so embarrassing on this piece of paper that Sam won’t even let him read it.
“Like I would be failing out. I’m not some idiot who can’t do the simple worksheets they give us,” Sam laughs maniacally as he crawls back on the bed before flipping off into a crouch ready to bolt across the room. Like it’s a game to him now.
Dean freezes— mid attack. Watches Sam realize what he just said.
“Aw shit Dean, I didn’t mean it like that.”
And he didn’t, not really. But see the thing is Dean is some idiot who couldn’t do the fucking work. Couldn’t get with the program. Two months ago after his 18th birthday, it was as easy as calling the front office to let them know he wasn’t coming back. They wanted to meet with him but Dean had just brushed it off. Not like they can do anything anyway. They changed schools right after that. The address in their records long since vacant. But maybe if he was still in school he’d know what this flyer was.
Sam’s giving his best impression of a kicked puppy which immediately makes Dean soften. The elephant in the room of Dean dropping out– which by the way was never acknowledged by them in the first place– is front and center. And Sam’s supposed to think Dean’s got it all figured out and that he knows what he’s doing to keep them safe.
It’s not like Dean was a model student— but as embarrassing as it is to admit, he really did try. It used to keep him up at night in the days leading up to the phone call to the school. Thought about how it’s just hard when you’re gone a lot and move around all the time and you’re hungry and the teachers are talking about stupid shit when they don’t even know what’s really happening out there in the real world and all the students care about is their extracurriculars and going to whatever home game was that weekend. But then Dean remembered that Sam is in the exact same position as him and he was doing perfectly fine in school. So then it became the obvious answer that Dean was just not ever gonna make it. And then one day in mid-January John was mad Dean wasn’t there when he got back to the motel in the middle of the day and that kinda solidified the whole thing.
So Dean says it’s fine. Sam didn’t mean it like that. Even though he knows what Sam thinks of guys like him. But whatever because it gets Sam to show him the flyer anyway.
Dean uncrumples the page and reads the words OUR TOWN in large letters across the top. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s their current high school’s production of a play. Two nights only. Next weekend.
“What so embarrassing about your school putting on some dumb play?”
“It’s not some dumb play! Some people consider it one of the greatest American plays ever written.” Sam exclaims, then softer “Besides, I might be in it.”
Dean is taken aback. How did he miss this? Where was he when Sam was going to rehearsal? He should have been paying better attention. Has to be paying better attention.
He also figures Sam got lucky. He’s been at this school for two months and no word yet from Dad about moving.
“You are?”
“Yeah,” Sam says with more determination this time, “the kid who was supposed to play George broke his leg and hadn’t been able to come to rehearsal so when I showed up they were kinda fucked and I just got it.”
Worry is replaced in Dean’s chest with a sense of pride. Of course, Sam would nail a role Dean can only assume is pretty major.
“Well damn, you better get me a ticket then.”
Sam’s face tinges red.
“You’re not actually coming to see it, are you?” he says incredulously.
“What are you talking about Sammy, wouldn’t miss it.”
Sam falls back onto the bed and lets out a groan. “I guess you can come.”
But Dean can see the upturn of his cheeks from a small smile from across the room.
————-
In hindsight maybe Dean shoulda kept his mouth shut. See, during the day Dean only has two tasks now. Finding work for food and rent money and on very rare occasions fielding phone calls from Dad asking for stupid shit. Today turned out to be a rare one.
The motel phone rings once and then stops. Thirty seconds later when it rings again Dean picks up.
“Jesus Dean, I called an hour ago where have you been?”
Dean just wipes the sweat from his forehead. It’s only the middle of April but a very unseasonably warm day. The walk back to the motel with no shade along the highway was shockingly not fun.
“Sorry, sir”
“Well pick up the damn phone next time or else. I’m on the tail end of a hunt right now and I need you to get me the ingredients for whatever I need to kill this thing.”
Dean listens as his father rattles off detail after detail. Tells Dean he needs this by the end of the day. At the natural lull of what would be generously called a conversation, Dean brings it up.
“Y’know Dad, if you gank this thing before the weekend you could come see Sam in the school play.”
After what feels like an hour, but is probably only a couple of seconds of silence, all Dean hears is a displeased noise down the line.
“We’ll see, I got more important things to worry about right now.”
“I know Dad, nothin’s more important than saving people. I was just saying if you were here to see it I think Sam would really be happy.”
“Dammit, Dean I said I’d see okay, I’ll try and make it. Now get to researching, I don’t got all day.”
With that, he hangs up, but Dean grins. It was as good as any promise.
He heads toward town again, this time his destination is the library. He’s tired already and all he wants to do is lay down on the motel bed and watch trash tv, but it’s not like he has the luxury to waste time like that.
He calls back from the payphone a few hours later. He thinks that with the ingredient list, the hunt seems so simple now that Dad found out what it was that he’s guaranteed gonna make it back by Friday.
He tells Sam that as soon as he walks into the motel room. Not sure why common sense didn’t knock into him before Sam did.
“What the hell did you go and do that for,” Sam says sharply, his anger brimming under the surface. He pushes Dean back against the wall, trapping him.
“Relax man,” Dean responds, throwing his hands up in mock defeat, “I just, I dunno I thought it would be nice if he was there.”
Sam just grimaces so Dean continues
“We’re a family, aren’t we? Ain’t this what families do? Now let me go.” Dean shoves his way out easily with Sam not really putting up too much of a fight anyway.
“I don’t want him there,” Sam says, still facing the wall, “besides he’s not coming anyway.”
“You don’t know that. I know you guys butt heads but you’re all he’s got for this kinda stuff. He cares about that so he’ll be there.”
Sam won’t turn and face him— even if he did, Dean is not sure he’d be able to read him right now anyway.
————-
The high school is one of the better ones they’ve been to. The auditorium looks like people actually care about what happens inside and the room is packed with families and students. Dean buys his ticket at the door and puts down money on one for John to pick up when he gets to the school.
Dean’s got no idea what this play is even about. He elects to stand toward the back of the room closer to one of the emergency exits. Figured he could grab a seat whenever. Might even be better to spot their dad come in from back here near the door anyway.
Eventually, they dim the lights and the play starts. Dean is kinda confused at first because there’s barely anything on the stage and people are just moving around like they weren’t ready to start. Then some student starts talking about the play. Dean thinks this is part of it but in all honesty, this is all kinda new to him.
It’s not long before Sam steps out. He’s playing his role and only someone who spends nearly every minute with the kid would know the imperceptible way he’s actually searching the room. His eyes don’t make it all the way over to the shadows where Dean is standing.
But the play goes on.
And when Sam is on stage, Dean is blown away.
He’d never say it to Sam’s face, but damn he didn’t know Sam actually had it in him. Dean knows he’s not the best influence. He doesn’t know where Sam got his hardworking determination for acing every damn academic challenge thrown his way. But he sees Sam up there and all he can think of is how he did a good job keeping Sam alive and fed and safe because look at what he can do. Dean knows there were things that coulda gone way better, but given what he had he made the most. And suddenly it doesn’t feel like the worst thing in the world to be a dropout with $6 bucks to his name because he looks up there and lives through Sam. Everyone in the audience is watching him and it’s like they’re all seeing the love that was poured into him from Dean.
At the end, Dean is also loath to admit his eyelashes felt damp. But damn how was he supposed to know some parts were just— well it’s not like these high schoolers know what they’re actually talking about anyway.
The lights turn on and people start gathering in the hallway standing around in small groups talking to each other— waiting for the cast to come down. Dean watches as they stand around with bouquets of flowers and other presents. He’s felt empty-handed many times before— but never like this. He shoves his hands in his pockets
Eventually, Sam makes his way out. Quite a few students congratulate him as he walks down the hall. Dean kicks off from the locker he was leaning against and stands awkwardly until Sam catches his eyes– just for a second– before shifting beyond them.
“Where is he?” Sam demands.
“Guess it’s too late to say break a leg or somethin’, Sammy,” Dean deflects. He can see the way Sam’s face falls when it’s clear John didn’t show. Knows the crushing disappointment Sam is feeling right now.
“Whatever,” Sam says before taking off toward the door.
Dean follows Sam down the hall out to the front of the school and watches as he sits down on the curb.
“Jeez, Sam. Thought you didn’t even want him here.”
Sam picks up a small pebble off the crumbling asphalt and throws it. He’s like a petulant child, looking years younger than the confident guy that stood on stage just a bit ago. The guy who bowed deeply during curtain call with a wide smile on his face while the audience cheered.
“Yeah well, you said he’d be here. And he’s not.”
Dean walks over to stand on the street in front of Sam. He feels guilty for putting the thought in Sam’s head that their dad would be here. That he’d want to be here. If Dean just hadn’t said anything it wouldn’t be like that. This is all his fault. But he’s just too stupid to actually think these things out. That’s why John and him decided it would just be better if he was available anytime to help with whatever hunt John was on. That he’s better off doing that then sitting in some classroom when he’s not even getting anything out of it. Hell, he might even get to go on another hunt by himself sometime soon.
Dean watches as families and groups walk out the front door chatting and energetic. They’re heading down the path to the parking lot. Dean thinks they must be going out to celebrate a job well done. Dinner. Maybe someplace nice or even homemade.
Dean wishes, not for the first time, that he had some type of manual for this shit. All he’s got is some empty pockets and enough bread for some grilled cheeses tonight. But he’s here . He’s here. Wishes he could shake Sam and say that. Ask if he’s good enough. Wants to know if he’s good enough. Knows it wouldn’t do any good right now anyway.
He decided right there that it doesn’t matter if he’s not as good as John, he’s still proud of Sam.
Dean kicks at the ground. Doesn’t know what to actually say that would make this better. More families pour out into the dark night. Dean gives up and sits next to Sam on the curb.
“I thought you did really well up there. You were good.”
Sam looks up from the ground with wide eyes.
“Really?” Sam asks, “You don’t think it’s embarrassing or anything that I did that?”
“No Sammy, I really mean it,” Dean swallows against the lump in his throat at being genuine, “When you were up there it made me proud of what you accomplished. I mean I could never do that– memorize all those lines and do it like that in front of a bunch of people.”
Breaking the tension, Dean gently shoves Sam and continues, “Besides it’s way better than being on some geek mathlete team.”
There’s that hint of a smile Dean was looking for.
“Whatever you say,” Sam says standing up.
They head down the street starting on their long walk back to the motel. Dean doesn’t know what awaits him in the future, but he sees Sam’s future in golden stage lights— bright and center. It is Dean’s job to get him there no matter what.
“I’ll bring you flowers tomorrow,” Dean jokes.
“You better not, jerk.”
“Bitch.”