Okay so this probably wasn’t what ElvenBookwyrm
had in mind when s/he posted the Andrew Winchester challenge but I was intrigued by the idea and, because I don’t consider myself a writer of all things Buffy, I was only able to come up with an origins type semi vignette. I hope you all like my interpretation. Warning:
This hasn’t been beta’d and my rereading it don’t mean squat when I’m ADHD inclined so please forgive flow and grammatical boo boos. Disclaimer:
BtVS and SPN both belong to their respective owners. Fanciful interpretations belong to me.
Andrew had a talent. A pretty good talent that he’d learned to take advantage of at an early age.
Andrew was very good at telling stories. So much so that people underestimated him. It wasn’t exactly a talent he had intended to be good at just one that he had had
to be good at as a necessary skill to survive his childhood. After all, how do you tell your friends at school that your family hunted ghosts for a living and not get the crap beat of you?
It was a hard lesson learned at age seven when one the older boys at his elementary school had played the ‘my dad can beat up your dad’ card. His explanation for why that couldn’t possibly be true had not only freaked out the other kids but got him sent to the nurse for his troubles. The next day the fifth grader that beat him up was sent to the nurse and his brother was suspended for a week.
So after a firm scolding from his father and wedgy reinforcement from both brothers, he returned to school and played down the whole seriousness he’d put behind his earlier family revelation and told his first elaborate story. It had been laughably easy and considering his family had made an art of it, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Not many kids had played with him after that and eventually he had learned that it was easier to turn potential playmates away with such elaborate tails. Easier not to have friends than to risk slipping up and causing problems for his family.
Now no one outside his family took him seriously, and at times, he was quite alright with that. He even encouraged the inept view people had of him. He played the consummate Star Wars geek, utilizing all the knowledge and enthusiasm for the one and only movie that his older brother had taken him to and multiplying it by a factor of ten. He’d even gone so far as to skew people’s perceptions on his sexuality. It had meant merciless teasing from his brothers but even they had admitted that it was a perception that had helped him succeed in gaining information for a hunt.
He took pride in this talent of his. While Dean used his charm and Sam used his earnest sincerity, he made people see him as a harmless kid. It was amazing what people revealed when they didn’t see you as a threat. He’d gotten so good at it that even his father was impressed to the point of letting him make initial contact with civilians when the family was on a hunt, a family member always close by just in case.
He supposed things couldn’t get any better between him and his family - that is if his father and brother would stop butting heads at every turn and Dean didn’t get stuck in the middle. Their father’s passion for the hunt and the distinct lack of passion from Sam had always been a bone of discontent. He supposed it had a lot to do with the truth being hidden from Sam those first few years where as he and Dean had pretty much known about it from the get go. Although if John Winchester had been able to keep things from Andrew he would have. Sam, on the other hand, felt that his little brother shouldn’t have to be left in the dark about what the family did the way he had been. It had probably been a month after Sam told Andrew everything before John could even look at his second son without wanting to smack him.
Andrew often thought about those fights between father and son and how no one really paid attention to the fact that he stayed out of them. He kept his thoughts on it to himself, but he had always felt like an outsider in this dysfunctional family and that maybe he wasn’t meant to be a part of it. If Sam hadn’t told him about the family business he supposed he would have felt like more of an outcast.
It was just that Andrew didn’t know where he stood amongst the Winchester men. It wasn’t that his family didn’t love him, he knew they did even without the ‘touchy feelly crap’ as Dean liked to call it. His problem lay in the fact that Mary Winchester wasn’t his mother. Mary was the root of the bond between his father and brothers. A bond he could never truly share no matter how hard he tried and, because of that, maybe he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe, just maybe he was meant to be a part of something different.
It was never clearer to him than the day that John and Sam had their last blowup and Sam had decided to take off for Stanford.
“How long are we going to keep doing this, dad!?” Sam yelled. “It’s been eighteen years and there hasn’t even been a rumor about this demon floating around. I deserve to have a normal life! Dean
deserves a normal life, especially Andrew!”
“Normal life?” John replied angrily. “She was your mother
, Sammy. We owe
it to her to kill this thing and you abandoning your family to go to school ain’t gonna make that happen.”
“You know what? You may be able to hold that one over Dean’s head but you're not gonna hold it over mine. I find it very hard to believe that Mom would have wanted any of this for us.”
“What the hell would you know about what your mother would want?” John replied, fists clenched in barely contained rage.
“Guys? Come on…” Dean pleaded with father and brother. He knew if things didn’t deescalate things would be said that could never be taken back.
“Nothing I guess,” Sam replied bitterly. Both he and their father ignoring Dean. “I don’t know a damn thing, because you won’t talk about her. So you know what? I’m going.”
“You walk out that door, don’t even bother coming back!”
With a final glance, Sam grabbed his duffle and stormed out the door. Andrew watched as the door swung closed then glanced at his father and older brother before turning his eyes back to the door. It took him only a moment more before he grabbed his own duffle and threw in the few things he’d unpacked.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Andrew looked up at his father and hesitated before replying quietly. “He shouldn’t be on his own.”
Mouth set in a grim line, John nodded his head, giving his youngest permission to go.
“Andrew!” Dean grabbed his little brother’s arm and turned to his father with a look of incredulity. “You can’t be serious?”
“Let him go, Dean.” John replied with a sigh. “This should have never been his fight to begin with.”
Andrew didn’t let how that comment hurt him show as the eldest Winchester son released his arm and he walked out the door. He’d planned on going after Sam and convincing him to come back, but the ease with which his father was letting him go where he’d vehemently argued with Sam to stay… He now knew where he stood in the family.
It was a five months before his father and brothers discovered that the youngest Winchester had disappeared.