Disclaimer:I don't own the characters. Just my take on a sticky situation.
It’s been a couple of hours now. Dean’s fallen asleep, head back, mouth open. Dawn is just looking out of the window, lost in thought. John is sitting at the dining room table, head on his arms, beer forgotten – warm now, anyway. It’s been a couple of hours.
He shouldn’t have said those things. It was the heat of the moment. His anger, his frustration had poured out of him. At Sam. Sammy, who just wanted a life that didn’t involve find the thing, kill it. Find the thing, kill it.
“I got into Stanford. Free ride. Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“I’ll be happy when you stop being a selfish jackass. This is our life, son. This is other people’s lives, the people we help. This is finding the thing that killed your mother, who you don’t even care about, do you?”
He might as well have pumped him full of rock salt. He will never forget the look on his younger son’s face.
“You take that scholarship. Go ahead. Just know that if you do, you’re no son of mine.”
The words echo in his head, rolling around, gaining momentum. He will never forget Dean’s shock, Dawn’s look of horror. He will never forget the moment he stopped being a father, and started being a bastard.
Not that he’d been much of a father before.
Sammy hadn’t even said anything. Just turned around, and walked into his bedroom. John had thought that that was the end of the matter. Until he came out of his room, backpack over his shoulder, and walked out the door. And he never said a word.
John lifts his head, and looks over at his two remaining children. Dawn’s still wiping silent tears from her face. Dean’s opened his eyes, but will not look at his father. Will he ever look at him again?
His son is gone. He never thought that Sam would call his bluff.