WOTR | Book 1 Part III
War Of The Regions:
Book 1 Part III
Masterpost
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Dean waits until their dad has left, and gives Sam a little bit of time to collect himself before walking into the bedroom. Sam is sitting by the window, staring out at the village with a troubled expression. Dean walks over and sits on the edge of his bed, doesn’t say anything, lets Sam initiate the conversation.
After what feels like a long while, Sam says, “I just wanted something for me, you know? I didn’t want to have to give this up. Not yet.”
“I know, Sammy,” Dean replies softly, unsure whether it was even loud enough for Sam to hear, but Sam doesn’t look at him, and continues to stare out the window.
Finally, Sam turns his head and gives a weak smile. “Okay,” he says, and stands up, walking out of the room without another word.
Dean follows, mind and heart troubled.
They reach the school a little later than Sam would normally go in, and this time Dean walks in with him, a place he hasn’t been for two years. They walk to the office and request a form for Work Leave.
“That’s sad to hear, honey,” one of the office workers says, an older women with grey hair tied up in a bun. “Will we see you next year?”
“I hope so,” Sam replies, and Dean has to look away from the sincerity that’s written on Sam’s face, because he knew when their dad demanded this that it wasn’t with the intention of something temporary.
They fill out the forms and hand them back in, and Dean leads Sam out of the building without another look back.
“You okay, Sam?” he asks, giving his shoulder a little nudge with his own as they walk towards East Hill.
“I’m fine,” Sam replies, and gives him a smile that looks genuine enough, even if it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and Dean offers one back, feeling a little lighter as they head towards the woods. Dean takes them left at the bottom of the hill and guides Sam into the alleyway behind the houses that are there. Once out of the alley, they crouch beneath the deep vegetation behind Rufus’ hut and Dean tells Sam to be wary of the thorns. Once they’re past the low branches they start the descent towards the fence.
“You have to keep an eye out,” Dean says, setting a comfortable pace down the chalk path. “Because we’re not technically allowed out here. We’re definitely not allowed over the fence, so if you think you see someone, you hide, okay?”
Sam’s not looking at him, instead watching the birds that are circling above, and Dean taps his shoulder. Sam turns to him, his eyebrows raised.
Dean repeats what he said before, clearer and louder, and Sam watches him with attentiveness.
“Sure, Dean. Keep an eye out.”
Once they reach the bottom of the chalk path they carefully jump over the small stream that runs along the bottom and walk alongside it until they reach a large fallen tree trunk.
“Once you get to this log, and this blackberry bush, you turn left.”
Sam does as Dean tells him, leading the way, and Dean tells him to stop once they reach the dusty clearing.
“This is it,” Dean says, walking a few meters forwards and crouching down beneath some low branches. He turns to Sammy and talks louder than he usually would out here, forms the words clearly and makes sure he doesn’t talk too fast. It’s important information that he can’t risk Sam not knowing. “It’s supposed to be electrified. It never is, but you have to check every time before you jump over. You got that?”
Sam nods. “Check to see if the fence is turned on.”
“Right. So I normally listen and see if there’s a buzzing, and if there’s not then it’s safe. But you can do it a different way.”
Dean leans forward and pulls a blade of grass from the ground and holds it up to Sammy.
“All you have to do is take a long blade of grass and touch the fence with it. If it’s on, you’ll feel a tingle. If you don’t feel anything, it’s off. You try.”
Sam takes the blade of grass and holds it tentatively towards the fence.
“Go on,” Dean says, already knowing that it’s turned off, “go ahead.”
He presses it lightly against the fence and holds it for a few moments before dropping it. “It’s off,” he says.
“Great. Now we can jump over the other side. You go first, and I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
Sam carefully pulls himself up against the fence and slowly begins to climb it, Dean scaling it beside him with an ease that he knows Sam will get with time. They reach the top and Sam gently puts a leg over before pulling the other over and climbing down the other side. Dean stays close by but Sam is steady, and they make it over without injury.
“Good job, twerp,” Dean says, feeling oddly proud, and starts walking in the direction him and Jo always go, deep into the woods.
“Why am I with you today, Dean?” Sam asks after a few minutes of walking in silence. Dean can hear the unspoken in his words, can tell Sam is asking why he no longer goes to school and is instead being taught to do the job that Dean does.
“Dad wants me to show you how to get over here and find your way around, how to get food.”
Sam just nods, but there’s an expression on his face that makes Dean think he wants to talk more, but Dean doesn’t want to push. He stops in front of a large bush and points to it.
“What’s that?” he asks, and Sam bends down to look at them.
“Gooseberries!”
“That’s right. You recognize them, so that’s good. Help yourself to them.”
Sam pockets a few and Dean leads him not in the direction towards where he keeps his weapons with Jo, but instead farther towards the small stream he knows runs through the woodland.
“What’s that?” Sam asks, pointing to dark purple berries beneath some green foliage.
“They’re fine,” Dean says, walking over to them and picking some off. “They’re blackcurrant fruits. You like them, you’ve had them before.”
Sam picks some of them too and pops one in his mouth. Dean looks around carefully for any berries he knows they mustn’t eat, because John emphasized that, and Dean guesses it’s the most important thing apart from the electrified fence that Sam has to learn about today.
“And that?” Sam asks, pointing to some bright red berries, the same size as the blackcurrants. Dean walks over and pulls one off, eyeing it carefully before deciding what it is. He smells it just to make sure.
“This is guelder rose. It has to be cooked first before you can eat it. You understand?”
“Gilder rose has to be cooked.”
“Guelder rose,” Dean repeats. “And you must never eat the leaves or the bark.”
Sam nods. “Guelder rose. You can eat it but it has to be cooked first, and only the berry can be eaten. Not the leaves or bark.”
“Good,” Dean says. “But you probably won’t like them, even though you’ve had them before. It’s more for medicine than food. We’ve used them when you’ve had a cough.”
They head farther into the woods and Sam picks out another one, a plant that’s climbing up a tree trunk with small black berries.
“No, Sammy,” Dean says loudly, “Don’t touch it.”
Sam takes a step back with his outstretched arm hovering in the air towards the tree and lets it drop.
“That’s ivy,” Dean says, coming to stand beside him. “The berries are poisonous, and you don’t touch the leaves.”
Sam takes another step forward to look at it. “There’s ivy on Bobby’s house,” he says.
“Yeah,” Dean replies, and starts walking away from it. “It climbs up walls a lot. Come on, I’ll take you to the stream.”
By the time Dean has finished teaching Sam the basics on what fruits to eat, with particular emphasis on which ones are dangerous, they start heading back before it gets dark.
They jump back over the fence, Sam checking for electricity with a blade of grass again, and climb the chalky path up towards the village. They reach the vegetation behind Rufus’ hut and pass through, being careful not to get scratched by thorns, and then walk along a path until they come to the small, dark alleyway. At the end of the alleyway they turn immediately right and they’re at the bottom of the East Hill, and Sam knows the way from here so Dean lets him lead.
Once they reach the cottage they see the flicker of light on the inside, and enter the kitchen to see their father is cooking on the fire. He welcomes them inside and puts three bowls on the table.
“Did you learn much today, Sam?” he asks, turning to him, the argument from this morning obviously pushed aside. Dean knows it’s how their dad does things, and knows Sam will keep quiet with a grudge.
“Yeah, Dean taught me how to get over the fence and what berries to eat.”
“What do you always do before going over the fence?” he asks, pouring some broth into one of the bowls with a ladle.
“Check for electricity,” Sam replies easily, and Dean gives him a small smile.
“Good. How?”
“Take a blade of grass and touch the fence with it. If it’s off nothing will happen and if it’s on I’ll feel something but it won’t hurt me.”
John looks to Dean and gives him a small nod and smile. “Good,” he says, and Dean lets out a small breath of relief, content to know that his father's happy with what he’s taught Sam. John finishes pouring out the broth for them and they eat it in a happy silence, Sam occasionally breaking it to talk about the berries they found and the small stream Dean showed him.
At the end of their dinner, John turns to Sam and says, “Tomorrow you’ll both go back. I want you to be able to find the way by yourself, and Dean will show you the berries used for medicine. Then, he will show you how to throw a knife. You got that?”
Sam stares at him with wide eyes for a moment before saying, “Yeah, yeah, okay. Did you say knife?”
“It’s important you can defend yourself if you need to. Dean will begin teaching you tomorrow.”
John glances to the clock and stands up, and then turns to Dean. “Clean up please, and get Sam in bed. I want you both up with the sun.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean says, and they watch as John heads to the door and leaves without saying another word. They both stand and clear the bowls, and Sam goes to change into his nightwear. He comes back into the kitchen and Dean finishes up washing the cutlery in the sink and turns to Sam with a smile.
Bed. Sleep, he signs and Sam pouts at him in a comical way that Dean tries not to laugh at.
“I want to make up some new signs for words first. Please?”
He can’t refuse Sam, never has been able to, and sits down on the floor next to the fire with a theatrical sigh. Sam sits opposite him, grinning, and signs thanks.
By the end of the hour, thirty minutes before the end of curfew, they’ve gotten half the alphabet down, as well as shapes for Dean and Sam, and words such as dad, fence, Bobby, berries, edible, and dangerous. Sam seems content with that, and Dean feels so too, and so they go to bed and Dean’s out as soon as his head hits the pillow.
“Up,” a low voice says, and Dean opens his eyes to see his father standing over him. He rubs at his eyes and watches him shake Sammy’s shoulders.
“Rise and shine, Sammy,” he says in a near-shout, and Sam blinks his eyes open slowly and surveys the room, sitting up.
“Morning,” he says, and then yawns, which in turn makes Dean yawn. John leaves the room and Dean and Sam both get out of bed and quickly change, Sam quietly humming along.
Once they’ve eaten and are out of the house, Dean lets Sam lead the way, and he remembers every turn, only having to be reminded to keep an eye out and go quiet once they’re on the chalk path. He checks the fence with a blade of grass and they climb on over, Sam with a small smile on his face the entire time.
“Why are you so happy?” Dean asks, once they’re over the other side and passing the gooseberry bushes.
“I like doing this. I never get to go with you to the woods.” Sam grins at Dean and Dean reciprocates, nearly going as far as ruffling Sam’s hair but has to refrain himself in the reminder that his little brother is not four-years-old anymore.
“What do you want to learn first, berries or knives?” Dean asks, leading them along the large row of oak trees that Dean and Jo first learned to climb when they were Sammy’s age.
“I don’t mind,” Sam says absently, his eyes on the high tree tops above them. “Berries, I guess.”
The spend half an hour going over the berries from yesterday, and Dean goes through some new ones they find, but he’s eager to get started with the knives. They’re his favorite, and although he’s good with a bow and arrow, better than Jo even, knives are his first choice.
“You see them?” Dean says, watching the happily chirping birds in the treetops.
Sam follows the direction Dean is looking at and shrugs.
“What am I looking at? The trees?”
“The birds.” Dean looks down at Sam and pulls him closer by his arm. “Oh. You can’t hear the chirping, can you?”
“No, I can’t,” Sam says, eyeing the treetops again. “Oh! I see them!”
Dean looks up and sees a small bird swoop down through the branches and loop back up again, chirping happily in the summer air.
“I can’t hear high pitched sounds very well.” Sam says quietly, turning to him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I understand what dad says best.”
Dean smiles at that. “Yeah, he’s always pretty loud.”
Sam nods. “You’re best to have a conversation with though.”
Dean smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Why’s that? Because I’m awesome?”
Sam rolls his eyes but it’s fond with a warm smile. “No, idiot. Because you always look at me when you talk. It’s easier to see your expressions and lips that way. And sometimes you use your hands and the signs.”
“My lips? You mean, you can tell what I’m saying by watching them?”
Sam shrugs, the gesture looking a little uncomfortable. “I try. I have to guess a lot though.”
“Sammy,” Dean says, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and positioning him so he can see Dean’s mouth, “you never have to guess with me, okay? Just ask again if you don’t get it the first time. Or the second. Or the tenth. I’ll never get angry.”
Sam looks down, embarrassed, but he’s smiling, and Dean thinks that’s a win right there.
“Thanks, Dean.”
Dean gives his shoulders a gentle squeeze before dropping his arm. “Don’t mention it, bitch.”
Sam makes a gesture with his hand that Dean knows is Jerk and Dean starts laughing, and they both stand there in the woods, smiling together, as the first drizzle of rain begins.
Sam holds his hand out and Dean looks to see a ladybird crawling over his palm. They’re crouching beneath a large redwood tree for shelter, and Dean is teaching him about bark and the types of berries that can be used in medicine.
“Oh, that’s nice, Sammy,” Dean says, watching with raised eyebrows as Sam watches the ladybird as if it’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen.
There’s the sound of a cracking branch and a rustle of leaves and Dean goes tense, taps Sam’s shoulder twice and puts his index finger over his mouth. Quiet.
Sam nods and nudges the ladybird off of his palm to the ground. Dean keeps low, eyes scanning the woodland around them, when he sees a flash of yellow and Dean lets out the air he was holding and breathes.
Okay, Dean signs to Sam. He starts whistling, long and low and raises the pitch higher and higher and then the movement stops and a trilling note is whistled back at him. He grins and stands up, motioning Sam to do so also.
Sam taps him on the shoulder, and shrugs his shoulders, his eyebrows raised. What?
Dean points in the direction of Jo, as she walks towards them, a smile on her face.
“Hey, you two,” she says, grinning at them both. “Never thought I’d see you out here, Sam.”
Sam smiles at her softly and Jo grins wider. Dean decides to save him by saying, “Dad wants me to start teaching him. Simple things, berries, how to get over the fence. We’re going to get some lunch and then I’ll show him how to throw a knife.”
Jo nods, seemingly impressed, and puts her hand in her pocket, pulling out a handful of blueberries. She holds them out for Sam. “These should keep you going for a little bit.”
It hits Dean then how much he loves Jo, who has been his hunting buddy for as long as he has been able to get game, and always has his back. They made a pact a long time ago that if something were to happen to either of them, they would take care of the other’s family.
Sam is looking at Dean, a little cautious, and Dean smiles at him. Okay. Eat.
“Thanks, Jo,” Sam says, and takes the berries.
Jo watches him fondly and then turns to Dean and smirks. “You, on the other hand, have got to hunt for your food.”
“Yeah, yeah, Harvelle. But I’m not hunting any game with Sammy.”
Jo nods, understanding, and then smiles at them both before walking away. “Catch you later. I want to get rabbit before this drizzle turns into a thunderstorm.”
“See you later, Jo,” Dean calls after her retreating back, and then motions for Sam to follow him in the opposite direction.
“Want one?” Sam asks, holding his hand out as they walk along. Dean takes a couple and eats them.
“What are your favorite berries, Sam?”
There’s a moment’s pause before Sam asks, quietly, “Pardon?”
A little louder, and turning to face him as they walk, Dean says, “What are your favorite berries?”
The rain is picking up now, and there’s a soft pattering sound on the leaves around them.
“Strawberries,” Sam replies, “even though they’re not technically a berry.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “They’re not?”
“Nope. Just fruit.”
Dean smiles at his geeky little brother, realizes how he loves the dork, and leads them farther into the woods towards the rocks where he keeps the knives. Once they get there he pulls two out and puts them into his satchel.
“I want to take you somewhere before I teach you. Follow me, okay?”
Sam nods and Dean starts walking quickly through the trees, water running down the leaves in rivulets, birds squawking above them. He checks to make sure Sam is following and heads towards the large hill that’s to the north of them. Once they reach the bottom, Dean makes Sam go first and they walk up it, have to start climbing up jagged but sturdy stone once they get to a certain height.
“Just a little farther,” Dean shouts, and Sam carries on climbing until they land on a wide ledge that cuts into the side of the hill. From up here they can see miles of forest, stretching out towards the horizon, and heavy, grey clouds rolling over the sky.
There’s a flash of lightning in the distance, and Dean smiles at that, shakes his head in fond amusement when he sees Sam’s face light up in excitement at the rumble of thunder.
It’s loud up here, too loud for conversation between them, and Sam shuffles a little closer towards Dean, eyes wide and bright as he watches the rain fall around them. Dean likes it up here, especially on warm summer nights and heavy storms, and to the East, eight miles out, they can see the border of the next region, a long metal fence snaking its way through the trees.
Sam turns to Dean, and shouts over the rain, “Beautiful,” drawing a circle in the air in the direction of the storm with his finger, which Dean takes as a new sign.
Dean repeats it back to him and nods his head. Beautiful.
They stay there and watch as the storm passes, until they’re left with a light drizzle. They climb back down into the woods and Dean hands Sam a knife, where he teaches him how to throw it from a distance.
“Knives are a great weapon,” he says, before throwing one into the tree opposite. “You can hide them easily, and they’re pretty lightweight. You can also throw them if your target is far away, and they’re durable and hard to damage. You can also hit your target if they’re right in front of you which is also an advantage.”
Sam tries to hit the same tree, and misses by a few centimeters.
“Not bad,” Dean says, going over to pick them back up.
Sam shrugs and tries a few more times until he manages to hit the tree, and turns to Dean with a big grin.
“Not bad at all,” Dean says, grinning back.
They spend the rest of the afternoon practicing before heading back at sunset, Sam leading the way, and Dean following behind, feeling himself swell with pride for his little brother.
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