WOTR | Book 1 Part II
War Of The Regions:
Book 1 Part II
Masterpost
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The next morning Dean is woken up by the sound of chopping wood and a faint stream of morning light seeping through the wooden shutters. He heaves himself out of bed, smooths down the blanket, and goes to the end of the room where he has a trunk of clothes.
Once he’s found a plain outfit for the day, he dresses and splashes water over his face, and looks over to see Sam still fast asleep. He thinks about letting Sam sleep in a little longer and walks into the kitchen to make some breakfast. Through the open window, Dean can see their dad chopping wood, and Dean gets all their plates out, placing a slice of bread and a handful of berries on each. They’re lucky to have the bread, lucky to know Anna as a friend, who gives it to them in return for game or berries or labor.
Dean thinks about his chores for the day, that he has to take Sammy to the school and needs to get some more food, which is his daily task. He thinks about going to see Anna, see if she needs anything repaired or cleaned, maybe get a fresh new loaf and, if he’s lucky, an iced bun to share with Sam.
The sound of footsteps on the creaky floorboards draws him from his thoughts, and he turns his head to see Sam walking towards him, one hand rubbing his eye and yawning.
“Rise and shine, Sammy,” he says, and puts a plate on the table for him.
“Hi,” Sam says, and sits down at the table. He grabs some berries and puts them in his mouth, sighing happily as he does.
Dean sits down opposite him with his own plate and starts tearing his slice of bread into strips.
You sleep okay? he asks, making the motions with his right hand while he pops a crust of bread in his mouth with his left. Sam grins at him and nods, and then points to Dean with his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, Sammy. I slept good.”
The door opens and Dean looks up, sees their father come in and walk over to the sink to wash his hands.
“Morning, boys,” he says, and picks up the plate that Dean has left there, and starts eating it quickly. “What are you doing today, Dean?”
Dean turns to face him and Sam continues to sit quietly, eating his berries one by one. “Take Sammy to school, get some more food. I might go to Anna’s and see if I can get some bread.”
His father nods and takes a mug from the cupboard, filling it with water from the trickling tap. “Once you’re done I want you to go to town and get some new clothes for your brother.”
Dean glances over to see what Sam is wearing, notices the holes and the tears, but it doesn’t look too out of place in the village. Still, he nods, takes the money he’s offered and watches as John leaves the cottage and heads back to the garden to continue with the wood.
Dean glances at the clock and stands up to deposit his plate in the sink.
“Okay, kid,” he says, pocketing the money and slipping on his shoes, “let’s get you to school.”
Neither of them talk much on the way over, walking beside each other in a companionable silence. Neither mentions the fact that if Sam’s hearing gets much worse school won’t be a possibility any longer, and Dean tries to push the thought away. Sam has always been the bright one.
They stop in front of the entrance and Dean gives Sam a smile and pauses to look at him, realizes his little brother has gotten taller and they’re almost the same height now. Sam smiles at him and says, “Have a good day.”
“You too, kiddo,” Dean replies, and watches as Sam turns his back and walks up the crumbling stone steps into the large building. He waits until Sam has entered it before turning around and making his way back into the market and to Anna’s.
When Dean makes it to the bakery, there’s already a small queue of people lined up and getting their freshly baked goods, so Dean heads around the back. He sees Anna kneading dough and walks over to her with a smile.
“Hello, Dean,” she says, and gives him a little nod, but doesn’t stop working. “You come for some bread?”
“That would be good,” he says. “If I can help in any way that is. What can I do?”
Anna looks around the back room and then glances to the door that leads into the front where her mother is selling goods to the customers. “You need to ice some buns and put some loaves in the oven. The buns are over by the door.”
Dean pulls on an apron and walks over to the tray of buns and begins to carefully cover them in icing, ensuring he doesn’t waste any but uses enough for a good product. Dean does all of them within the hour, and then heads over to the large oven at the back of the room and starts sliding trays in.
Once done he clears up the area he’s been working in, he heads over to Anna, who’s making up a mixture in a large bowl.
“Mix this up for me and I’ll give you two loaves,” she says, and passes the bowl over to him.
“Two?” he asks, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. This has always been about earning the food, and it doesn’t feel like he’s done enough to warrant two. “I don’t need two. One is fine.”
“You’re getting two,” Anna says, and gives him a soft smile. She grabs a paper bag and slides two loaves in, and puts them beside him. “That’s good enough. You go take them back to your family.”
Dean pulls the apron off and hangs it on the hook, and gives Anna a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, Anna,” he says, as he walks towards the exit.
“See you, Dean,” she says, and goes back to mixing, the sounds of the store loud at the early hour.
Dean leaves the bakery and heads back home. He wants to deposit the bread off before heading into town, and considers dropping half a loaf off at Bobby’s later when he gets home. The garden is empty when he returns, the wood in a large pile beneath the window, but Dean isn’t surprised. Their dad never stays around the house long.
Once he’s dropped the bread off he walks back down the stone path to the street and he hears somebody call his name. He turns around and inwardly sighs when he sees who it is.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asks, hoping it’s enough of a hint to let him know Dean doesn’t want his company.
Andy walks over to him and shrugs his shoulders. “I asked for work leave. I’m helping my brother on the farms.”
“Listen, Andy, I’ve got to go into town, so--”
“Awesome,” Andy says, and starts walking down the path and in the direction he’s just come from. “Let’s go.”
Dean nods at him, resigned, figures having a little bit of company won’t harm him except maybe slow him down a little, and walks over to Andy and falls into step beside him.
“Why do you need to go to town?” he asks, and pulls a carrot out of his pocket and starts to nibble at it. Dean eyes it with interest, thinks about maybe making a deal with Andy to get some for Sam.
“New clothes for Sam,” he says, and shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling the heavy coins and running his fingers over them to reassure himself that it’s still there.
“How is he?” Andy asks. Andy is fourteen, more Sam’s friend than his, but he makes an effort nonetheless to appear friendly.
“He’s okay,” Dean says. “He’s at school at the moment.”
Andy nods and continues to eat his carrot, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Tell him I say hi.”
“Will do,” Dean replies, and they turn left at a large oak tree, finding themselves at a crossroads. They walk straight forwards and cross over to the other side, heading along hedgerows that line fields of green and gold. Andy talks to him for a good mile, nonsense about the farm and his brother, and Dean is amiable, offers thoughts here and there but lets Andy do most of the talking.
They reach the town half an hour later and head straight to the clothes store on the left of the street. A small bell chimes as he opens the door, and he goes straight to the plainclothes, looking for Sammy’s size.
“How about this?” Andy asks, holding up a pink t-shirt, five times too small.
“Hm, maybe not. Look good on you though,” Dean says, and turns back to look through the racks for a couple of t-shirts. He settles with a long-sleeved shirt as well as a short-sleeved one, and two new pairs of pants, one a thin cotton pair and one pair thick and warm. He pays for the clothes and finds he has a little left to spare.
“Come on,” Dean says to Andy, heading towards the shoe shop, “I’ve got one last thing to get.”
They enter the store, a little smaller and darker than the previous one, and Dean finds the most practical pair he can for Sam with the coins he has left. He finds some sturdy shoes which feel strong but good for climbing, and pays for them, feeling happy.
“Done?” Andy asks, eating another carrot once they’re outside.
“All done,” Dean replies, and they start heading back towards the road out of town and to the village.
Once they’re walking past the fields, Andy pipes up again. “So have you heard?”
Dean decides to bite the bullet and go along with it. “Heard about what, Andy?”
“The higher Regions. You know, just outside of the Highlands.”
It’s enough to pique Dean’s interest. They never get any news or information about other Regions, and it’s illegal to travel between them. The only news they get is sent around by the Officials, and that’s an irregular thing.
“What about them?”
Andy looks unsure, before he starts quietly, “There’s been loads of death. Like, people getting killed and having their homes burned.”
“You - what?” Dean asks, slowing down. He comes to a stop and Andy stops beside him, expression serious and grave. “Getting killed? How do you know this?”
“My brother met this guy in the woods - oh, er, not that he was there or anything, he just, er -”
“Shut up, Andy, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
Andy smiles gratefully at him. “Yeah. So, this guy from one of the Regions that this happened in met my brother when he was getting food. Apparently he was going to the Outerlands.”
“Seriously?” Dean asks, starting to walk again at an easy pace. “What did he say?”
“You’ll never guess who was destroying the homes and killing people, right? Officials. Officials from the Highlands.”
Dean frowns and looks at Andy carefully but he looks deadly serious.
“But - why?”
“Beats me,” Andy says, shrugging.
“No, but seriously, why, dude? Why would the Highlands have anything against us?”
“Lots of reasons, I guess. My dad seems to think that destroying those Regions would give them more land. So the Highlands can, like, expand. But - listen,” Andy says, voice no higher than a whisper. “I didn’t tell you this, okay?”
“No,” Dean says, thinking over everything he’s just been told. “Of course you didn’t.”
“Thanks, man,” Andy says at normal volume, and they carry on their journey discussing lighthearted, menial things. When Dean gets home he sees it’s nearly time to get Sam from school, and heads off to go and pick him up, pushing thoughts of the Highlands to the back of his mind.
The next day Dean gets up early to see that John had gotten home last night. He’s sitting at the table and looks up when Dean walks in, immediately giving him orders.
“I want you to take Sam out of school,” he says without preamble. “Tell them it’s work leave.”
Dean wants to protest, wants to tell him that Sam is good at school. That he actually likes learning. “Can’t we just wait out the year?”
“Don’t argue with me, Dean. Go to the school this morning and tell them to remove Sam from their system. You got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Dean says, looking away. His father waits until Dean’s met his gaze again before speaking.
“After that I want you to take Sam into the woods and teach him the basics. How to get over the fence, how to tell if it’s electrified or not without listening, how to find his way home. He won’t be good at hunting with his ears, but teach him about which berries he can eat, and more importantly which ones he can’t.”
Dean stares at him, not comprehending. Something uncomfortably filters into Dean’s mind from the conversation with Andy about unrest in the Regions, but he pushes it down. Dean has been told time and time again that Sammy is never allowed over the fence, never allowed to go hunting. And now his father is trusting him to take Sam and teach him in the woods, and Dean is gonna make damn sure he doesn’t screw this up.
“Yes, sir. But what about food for the day? If I’m taking Sammy around with me I won’t be able to get game.”
“I’ll sort that out. Don’t take weapons with you, leave the bow. And most importantly, Dean?”
“Watch out for Sammy,” Dean replies with ease, a phrase that’s been ingrained into him from a young age, his mantra for as long as he can remember.
It’s then that Sam wanders into the room, dressed for the day, and goes over to the cupboards to get some breakfast. Dean doesn’t want to be the one to tell Sam he has to leave school years too early, doesn’t want Sam to have to give up the thing he loves.
“G’morning, midget,” Dean sing-songs loudly when Sam sits at the table, and Sam raises an eyebrow and smirks at him.
“I’m nearly the same height as you now, you know.”
Dean theatrically rolls his eyes and shakes his head as if to suggest that’s a lie and they both know it, and Sam kicks him under the table.
“Boys,” John says, reprimanding, and they both stop and Sam goes back to eating from his plate.
After a few minutes of silence, John says, “I want you both back before sundown later.”
Sam looks up at that and frowns. “What?”
Dean looks away for this, tries to pay his attention to the people he can see setting up the market through their window.
“Dean is taking you to the woods today.”
Sam continues frowning, and says slowly, “And what about school?”
“You’re going to go there this morning and ask for leave for the rest of the year.”
Sam’s mouth falls open and he looks from John to Dean in rapid succession as if he’s watching a hummingbird in flight.
“You’re making me leave school?” He says, his voice raised.
“Yes, Sam. Don’t argue with me,” John replies, voice rising to match Sam’s with a dark frown on his face.
“But...” Sam stops, seemingly lost for words. Then, he says with a softness that makes Dean snap his eyes up to look at his younger brother, “I like school.”
Dean swallows hard, wishes that was enough for their dad to let Sam stay, wishes they lived in the Highlands and had enough money to give Sam a private tuition, wishes a lot of things.
“Sam, you will listen to me,” John says, voice loud but calm. “You need to learn the basics of hunting. I know you enjoy school, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about that. But your family needs you now. You need to learn how to survive.”
It’s enough to make the glare grace Sam’s face again, and Dean lets out a deep breath, knows whatever is about to come out of Sam’s mouth isn’t going to be pretty.
“Whatever happened to me being able to choose something for myself?” he says, voice loud, hurt dripping from each word. “This isn’t fair. I can learn that stuff on the weekends. You can’t just take me out!”
John’s eyes are bright with fury now, and he shouts back, “Yes, I can. I am your father.”
“No!” Sam shouts, pushing back from the table and standing up. Dean watches him with pleading eyes, begs him to stop without saying anything but all of Sam’s attention is on their dad. “You can’t. Not now. Not while I can still go!”
The implication behind the words forcibly stops whatever John was about to say from coming out his mouth. Sam is breathing heavily in the corner of the room, his eyes wet, and he storms into the bedroom.
Not while I can still go. Dean knows what those words mean, what Sam is really saying.
Not while I can still hear.
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