In a cold musty dark room a young man made from skin and bones lay on his side shivering in a pool of red sticky blood, whimpering and eyes glazed the young man starred sightlessly into the endless void of darkness. His blood shot eyes darting around the void trying to locate something. He no longer knew what he was looking for just that it was important he found it. Rolling over the young man tried hide futile searching again, his gaze once again bouncing round in the eternal darkness.
Upon hearing thundering footsteps he stop his search, the voices don't like it when he tries to find that thing that he must find. One creak after another the feet step onto the old worn floor boards coming closer and closer to the young man. When the feet are almost at his face, they stop. With batted breathe the man waits for the thing to do something. Time passes on in silence as he curls more and more into himself, he waits for something to happen. With no warning, the feet lash out at him. Catching him squarely in the ribs, this causes old injuries to flare and a new bruise to spread over his ribs. Then there's a voice that starts barking at him, saying things the young man does not understand, from the way the voice booms round and echoes back the young man, he can tell the voice is angry and wants something from him. He hopes he does not have to suffer any more. The young man makes noises trying to give the voice what it wants and would be enough. It was never enough.
At the sound of an object slicing through the air, the young man tried to scramble away from the noise. When the first blow came from the pain caused him tohowl in agony and continued on his attempt at escaping the pain. Scrambling on his hands and knees the young man clambered across the floor in an effort to stop the pain. The sound of the feet following him promising more pain then he thought he could deal with. He hurt enough as it was. With each new crack against his brittle skin, the young man felt the welts raise and his skin tear offering warmth as his skin stained with his blood once more as it poured out of his body. Crashing into a wall, he whimpered. He resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to be able to escape the pain, not this time maybe not ever.
For the next 5 hours the young man screamed as he was assaulted by different devices of pain, trying to get something out of him that he didn't know. Until he was screaming blood and barley had the energy to shiver and whimper. When the young man's body was drenched in blood and covered in new welts, bruises and lesions did the voice finally stop its torture. Silently crying the young man listened to the sounds of the fading creaks of the floor boards as the feet moved further and further away, finally allowing the comfort of the darkness too finally win its battle against his battered body and troubled mind. The young man closed his eyes to the pain of the world he lived in and vowed to never return again.
Dean sat in the lonely motel surrounded by empty beer bottles and empty bottles of whiskey. It had been close to 3 years since he last saw Sam –he doesn't count the time he saw the future Sam as Lucifer's meat suit- and he regrets ever turning his back on his brother. For the first 8 months after Dean realised Sam was missing he exhausted all his contacts trying to find Sam. The angels where no use, continuing with their quest to start/stop the apocalypse, he wasn't sure anymore. Castiel hadn't known Sam well enough to be able to feel his psychic vibes or whatever it was to find his baby brother. He guessed the marks encrusted on their ribs don't help either. Since then Dean had become angrier and more desperate to find Sam any way he could, Castiel had stop him just short of making another deal with a Demon to find his Sammy.
For as much as he hated most angels, Dean had a soft spot for Cas, he continued to help him find any clues to his brothers were about even if that did mean going against most of his brothers and sisters. Bobby, Jo and Ellen where a big help as well, but as the months dragged on he held them all at arm's length as he spiralled deeper and deeper in his depression. After a year he decided to brace the oldest of the Winchester family traditions and kill as many sons of bitches that he could get his hands on until he found his brother.
His calls with Bobby became less and he started hunting more and more. He knew everyone was starting to worry. Cas had told him more than once how he needed to call his friends, to let them in, to help. But what did they know, Sam wasn't their responsibility and hadn't been there's since they were four. They didn't understand what it was like to lose everyone you love.
Now Dean can no longer fight, can no longer carry on, can no longer sleep without nightmares, no longer ignore the pain of losing his brother. All he can do his drown his pain in alcohol and hope he's pissed of the supernatural enough to take the pain away….to make it all end. Dean reclines on his bed and gazes at the bed that should hold his brother. He should really stop buying this motel rooms with two beds, it was only making the suffering worse but he couldn't bring himself to. This was his only way to hold onto hope, to hope that Sammy was still alive so he could take his rightful place any time.
Oh god did he miss his brother. Closing his eyes Dean allowed a few tears to leak out the corners of his eyes before he made himself stop. He had to be strong after all.
Screw the apocalypse it's not like he can stop it without Sam, with Lucifer being topside the number of supernatural occurrences had increased but for all Dean could tell it was mainly Lucifer and Michael wearing their option B's to try and stop the apocalypse. There was no way Dean was going to get involved when he had a little brother to find.
Sighing Dean tried to relax to allow himself to sleep for the few hours that he needed to function. Just as Dean was about to drift off the motel he was staying in shook and cracked as an almighty bang blasted through the air. With pieces of plaster raining down on his head Dean rolled onto his front and covered his head. After a few minutes the shaking stopped and all was quiet again.
Cracking his eyes open he drew in a ragged breathe and scanned the surrounding area, noting the rubble littering the floor. Snatching the remote from the nearby stand he turned on the TV in hope of finding out what happen. Every station he was on was talking about the shaking and how it had happened all over the world, with no one knowing what had caused it he turned the TV off he dropped his head and ran a shaking hand over his face.
Picking his head back up again, he jumped when he saw the startled and slightly disturbed face off Cas.
"Cas!" he exclaimed, "What have I told you about doing that. A little bit of warning would stop me having a heart attack."
After a few minutes of Cas still only just looking at him Dean started to get a bit worried as Cas had gotten better at sarcasm and retorts over the last few years. "What is it Cas?"
"It's over." Cas said in a small voice.
"What's over Cas?"
"The apocalypse. Lucifer and Michael are dead; they killed each other in battle."
"WHAT!"
"They both delivered a deadly blow at the same time and have consequently wiped out half their forces and followers while killing each other. There's no more war, no more apocalypse." Cas started slowly picking up his speed near the end. Then he did a very un-Cas thing and smiled a slightly strained but relived smile. "It's over." He whispered finally. He whispered in relief, you could see the tears being held back.
"Cas no matter how much I'm glad it's over 'n all but I really couldn't care less at the minute. Without Sam I can't celebrate, no offense, but when I find Sam, us three, will go and celebrate until we can't remember what we're celebrating. But until then I will continue on with my search for my brother." Dean took a deep breath and look at what was probably the best friend he had ever had. Probably his only true friend. He realised he probably sounded like a class A jerk but he couldn't care, least of all at this minute.
Cas' smile faded a bit before his eyes lit up after he realised this was Dean trying to be nice to him. "It's okay Dean, I understand. I will come back soon when I have any information on where Samuel is." With a faint flutter he was gone and Dean was once again alone.
It wasn't but a few weeks later Castiel found Dean again looking a little ruffled and a bit breathless in the backseat of the Impala. He had not dared sit in the passenger seat since the first time he did Dean glared at him and didn't talk to him until he apologised and move to the backseats. He caught Dean's eyes in the rear-view mirror. As Dean swerved at the unexpected sight of him and cursed, Castiel held on to anything to stop him bouncing round the back seat. Cursing Dean straighten the car back out.
As Dean took a deep breath to probably tear him a new one Cas jumped in. "I found him. I found Sam!"
Dean mouth shut with a snap. He pulled the Impala over before shutting off the engine and turning to look at Cas. "Where is he, where's my little brother?"
"He's in an abandoned warehouse in Ohio. I can direct you there. You must know that I only found him as demons have been bragging about having him. They never said what they did with him or to him so I must urge you Dean to expect the worst. I don't want you to get hurt again." Cas stared into Dean green eyes with his compassion filled hazel eyes that spoke of nothing but honesty and concern from one of his most revered friend.
With a teary filled laugh and smile Dean set off to Ohio from wherever the hell he was. Through the drive to Ohio he kept a steady conversation with Cas about what he had been doing the last few weeks and what had happened to the demons that bragged of having Sammy. He learned that Crowley had taken over hell and was now ruling it in the absence of another demon more powerful. Dean was a bit disheartened to hear about the state of which heaven was when Cas finally was aloud back and of how some of the other angels still treated him like nothing more than shit on the bottom of their fancy loafers. He was also sad that his problem had caused a lot of disarray in heaven what with no one ruling and half the angels gone in the blast of Lucifer's and Michael's heavenly bodies being destroyed.
He started mentally making a list of all the things he was going to do to make it up to Cas for the entire problems he had caused him while Cas started talking happily about all the things he would like to do now that he no longer had a war to fight and stop.
Dean himself was just finally happy to have that small hope alive burning into him that Sam was still alive and would be alright. He should have seen how hope can always be crushing and with Winchester luck, should have seen that it would have not been that surprised that it wasn't that easy to get Sam back alive and well.
Out of Dean and Sam, Dean thought he had it the worst. First seeing and remembering his mother burning on the celling that fateful night when he was 4, it was the cause for his anxiety over his Dad hunting on his own and Sam going to college, the thought that at any point they would turn into a human roast, especially Sammy. Sammy was his and nobody else's, he was the one who was there for his first steps, first words, first day of kindergarten, first everything. He always knew John would go down in in the hunt, it was always a possibility, and he had prepared himself for that everyday until he died. It still hurt but in reality it could of hurt more, that was why he was so angry, that and the fact that his Dad told him he might have to kill Sam.
Secondly, he never got to be a kid. Yeah he got the first four most stable years but he had to be the parent to Sam he was barely old enough to tie his own shoes. He lost a lot of friends when they realised how much he did for his brother. Sammy got the most years of being a kid out of them both.
And probably the last and most important point; Sam got to live his life the way he wanted to, while he went to college he had to stay in crappy motels patching up bullet holes and slashes made from the claws of the latest hunt. He went to hell for God's sake, he may have done it to save Sam's life but he never wanted to go, he doesn't regret making the deal but he still wishes he never had to go and start the whole damn apocalypse. He no longer blames Sam for breaking the final seal, hell he even forgives him for drinking all that demon blood. All he wants is Sam back.
Racing through the back streets of Ohio with Cas, Dean was feeling the happiest he had in weeks. He was getting Sammy back. Castiel gave constant directions once they hit Ohio to the warehouse where Sam was and Dean couldn't have been more thankful.
Stopping outside a large warehouse Dean surveyed the area. It was located in an abandoned storage area that looked close to falling down. Stepping out he met Cas at the entrance and took a deep breathe. Clutching the sawed off shotgun close to his chest, he and Cas entered the warehouse.
Both taking different routes to make sure it were all clear. With backs pressed against walls, crates and anything large enough to conceal them they crept round the room looking for any sign of life or Sammy. After sweeping the shop floor twice they decided it was clear both Dean and Castiel started searching for any doors leading to other parts of the warehouse.
The young man lay curled on his side, he had not heard anything for a while now, ever since that large boom and shaking nothing had been near him. His side was sore from not moving for however long. He knew he was sick as he had been shivering for a while and had only just stopped but he was still covered in sweat.
He had stopped searching for the thing that always made it better, he stopped caring, and all he wanted to do was die. The only reason he had survived so long was because he was huddled next to an old leaky pipe that held water. It was nice for a while to have water whenever he wanted it but it all seemed pointless now.
So the young man just lay there. Starring into the blackness void of his world, he couldn't remember a time before the blackness. He lay there trying to imagine a world filled with no blackness but no matter what could not picture one. He kept trying until he heard the creak of the floorboards of the floor above him. When the sound echoed in the darkness the young man tensed then relaxed. Maybe the screaming voice has come to stop his sorry existence once and for all. He would be happy with that.
He remembered the first time he met the man with the screaming voice and black eyes.
It was a time when he still acted out, when he didn't fear the whip. He had just woken up and couldn't remember anything, names and faces flitted through his head but he couldn't concentrate long enough to piece the pieces together. He was too busy thinking that he didn't hear the man coming, but when he saw him he tensed then smirked.
"What do you want demon. I'm not saying yes to being an angel condom, so you may as well stop wasting my time and yours." He didn't care back then that his attitude would cause pain. Pride was too much back then. It wasn't until hours later as he lay in a pool of blood and his own piss that he realised how much trouble he was in and started to worry but he wouldn't show any weakness for a long time.
Clenching his fists and grounding his teeth together he felt the broken bones grind together and hissed in pain. He had no idea how he was going to last with all his pain. He made a vow that he was never going to break and say yes, even if it meant pain but he had to find a way to make it hurt less. Dean may have been able to last 40 years in hell but he wasn't Dean, he knew he wasn't going to last long, but if he did lose himself he was going down swinging.
He lay there in the hopes of it finally ending. He lay there oblivious to everything in the hope that he would get the voice mad enough to end him. He lay there trying not to remember any more of his past pain, it wasn't going to help him now to dwell.
Dean and Castiel crept down the hidden stairs at the back of the warehouse. Gun still poised and ready, Dean led them down the stairs, counting them in his head to help him concentrate on something other than his excitement of finding Sam. Glancing over his shoulder he could tell Castiel was no better, he never knew Sam well but he was there for all the drunken stories so Cas felt he knew Sam. He knew Dean and was sorry for calling him an abomination.
Reaching the bottom Dean took a deep breath and opened the door in front of him. Pulling his flashlight out of his pocket he shone it over the floor noting the blood stains and drag marks. Pushing down his anger at the demons for hurting Sam, he crept slowly into the centre of the room. Seeing nothing in front of him, Dean used the flash light to scan the rest of the room.
He paused on a small bundle in the corner where the door was. Sucking in a sharp breathe through clenched teeth Dean tried desperately to not cry or be sick. Looking in his direction was his brother. His too long greasy hair falling limply into sightless sunken eyes of his baby brother. Moving the flashlight over the rest of him Dean could see how much weight his brother had lost, his was barely there. Just a bag of skin and bones covered from head to toe in varies bruises and welts all in different stages of healing. He was stripped naked but that wasn't scared Dean the most. No. it was the blank lifeless look in his brothers once deep soulful eyes.
"Sammy? Sammy can you hear me. It's Dean. I've come to get you with Cas. Sorry it took so long." Dean whispered while cautiously approaching Sam before kneeling in front of him and resting a shaky hand on Sam's bony shoulder. When that received no response Dean started to panic.
Seeing Dean starting to hyperventilate Cas stepped closer to the duo. He had a hard time looking at his old friend. Resting a weary hand on Dean's should Cas spoke. "Would you like me to take you and Sam to Bobby's, and then bring Impala?"
Dean shifted his gaze briefly from Sam to Cas, with a nod of his head Cas brought his hand to Dean's head and in a flash they were gone from the dark warehouse to Bobby's house in the rooms they normally had when they came as kids.
Cas went almost instantly before returning not a second later.
Laying Sam on his bed Dean set of to search round the house for Bobby. Tears streaming continuously down his face. Searching the entire house and grounds, Dean found Bobby working on an old Ford pick-up.
Clearing his throat to get Bobby's attention he started to explain how they found Sam and where he was now. Throughout the explanation Bobby's eyes got wider and wider. When Dean told him where Sam was he got up from where he was and ran to the house with Dean hot on his heels.
"BOBBY! Wait up man…..Bobby will you slow down." Dean shouted as he ran after the older hunter.
Before Bobby could reach the door Dean grabbed his jacket and pushed him into the wall.
"Bobby listen to me, when we found Sam, he…..well he's not how you remember him…"
"Dean nothing is gonna stop me from seeing the kiddo you idjit. I don't care if he's raving mad right now; we've been looking for that boy for the past 2 years and looking after him for longer. Nothing is gonna scare me away. You hear me kid."
Bobby thought back to the first time he saw the little chubby baby that was his Sammy.
He was well into his third bottle of Jack when some piece of shit fucking decided to bang on his door. Couldn't they tell that he was drinking his fucking sorrows, trying to forget the was the knife cut into his beautiful wife like butter. 'No. Don't go there Singer.' Getting up in a huff Bobby dragged himself to the door. Stood there was an old friend of his that he never thought he was going to see again. Especially since he joined the marines and Bobby was left here to open his garage.
"John? What you doing here?" Watching his old friend Bobby took note of the bloodshot eyes and tear tracks down his friends face. Bobby knew what had happened as he saw the same thing every day when he looked in the mirror. "Come on in Johnny-boy…" peering behind John, Bobby took note of the two kids behind him. Well a kid and a baby. The kid was grasping onto the younger one as though he was a life line, "Bring the rugrats too."
That night after the two young ones where in bed John had told Bobby everything that had happened, in return Bobby gave him the truth is out there speech along with how his wife actually died. John had looked so eager when Bobby told him about hunting, with a sigh Bobby told John the name of some fellow hunters he could trust.
"You should probably visit Pastor Jim first as you will need the Latin for most hunts."
John had looked up the stares where his sons where sleeping peacefully, "What about them? I can't just drag them all over with me while I learn the basic. No matter how much I would love for them to be by my side right now it's not practical."
"John, I may not have seen you a few good years but you can still trust me. I'll look after them while you learn this shit."
And that was how Bobby found himself looking after the two for two months. John called daily to speak to Dean even though the kid didn't speak back. At first Bobby had no idea how to act round then but soon learnt that he was best to leave Dean to Sam and just cook.
It was well into the first month before Dean finally started talking. He would just chatter away about how well Sammy was doing, it came as a surprise when Dean finally allowed Bobby to hold Sam.
He was so small with these big brown eyes that just sparkled when he smiled, he held him gingerly at first with fear of dropping the child. He immediately formed an attachment to the two kids that day; they brighten his day up and made him feel happier than he had in years since his wife's death.
He quickly snapped himself to the present before he missed what Dean said.
"I know Bobby. I know. It's just….he didn't recognise me, he just lay there staring. I don't want you to go in unprepared by what you'll see. It's not pretty, just promise me you won't startle or scare him."
Looking into Dean's eyes Bobby could see the honesty shining through, he knew it was bad but damn it if he wasn't going to see Sam. "Ok Dean, I won't barge in."
With that Dean let Bobby go and they both walked into the house.
Upstairs the young man lay still, the thing he was on was not stable but it was comfy and warm so he wasn't complaining. Letting his eyes take in the room he saw no darkness…no nothing, he saw colours, warm colours. Colours that made him happy and shapes that where familiar. He doesn't know how but all he knows is that he should remember this place, it feels so familiar so…..something, he doesn't know what, just that's it's something else and that he hasn't felt it in a long time.
Hearing the sound of feet on floorboards the young man stiffened and stopped his searching of the room.
Staring at the door the young man awaited his fate, wondering if today was going to hurt more today than yesterday.
Hearing the door knob turn apprehension filled the young man. He stilled his search and laid waiting. Waiting for the screaming. The shouting. Anything that meant the pain was coming. He tried not to focus so it wouldn't hurt as much.
He didn't know how long he lay there with nothing happening. Slowly the young man allowed himself to focus. What he wasn't prepared for was to see two men standing in the doorway, one tall and young with a broad chest and thick muscular arms and another older man with a bushy beard and scruffy cap on. He didn't expect them to be crying or to look familiar. Scrunching his face up the young man tried to remember these people.
"Sammy?" The older man questioned. Who is this Sammy? What was a Sammy? Crunching his face up more the young man tried to think of what to do. When nothing came to mind he stared at the two men and waited for the pain. His body tensing and curling into a ball.
After nothing happened and the two men didn't move the young man began to relax his body and found himself to be just content with staring at the two men. He watched them move closer to him. Hand low. Heads bent forward. Just looking at him as they drew closer.
"Sammy, do you remember me?" The younger man asked hesitantly. Scrunching his face up again the young man tried to think. Did he know this person? Who was this Sammy they kept asking about? He tried to think, to remember but he didn't. Still staring the young man shook his head slowly. He tried to make a say no but all that came out was a mewl.
The young man shook his head sadly as tears filled his eyes and spilled over onto his cheeks. With a shaky voice the young man began to speak. "Well my name is Dean, Sammy, and … er… I'm, well… I'm your big brother. I've looked after you all my life and this guy right here Sammy…This is Bobby." Dean gestured to Dean and Bobby.
The names sounded familiar and they carried that familiar feeling as well. Instead of trying to figure out the felling the young man lay still and listened as the two men…NO, Dean and Bobby spoke. They talked about monsters and a thing called an Impala, Castiel and how when they were together they moved across the country to fight these monsters.
After a few hours of that they talked about how he and Dean had split up and hadn't seen each other in years. How Castiel, the angel, had found him and brought Dean to him.
It sounded wonderful and fascinating but the young man or Sammy as he kept being called still couldn't remember anything before the darkness. By the end of the speech, the young man found his head on Deans lap with Dean stroking his hair softly while he had his legs on Bobby's lap while Bobby ran a warm callous hand up and down his back. Sammy found himself the most relaxed than he had ever felt. Content with how things where he drifted off to sleep for the first time he could remember.
Dean sighed and looked down at his little brother. It broke his heart how Sam didn't know who he and Bobby where. Bobby wasn't taking it too well either, hell the man had basically thought of both boys as his own sons. It wasn't hard enough that they hadn't seen Sam in 3 years and when they found him he was beaten beyond recognition. No they also had to deal with the fact that Sam couldn't remember them.
They were both kind of glad Cas wasn't there right now. He would have been too brash and not patient enough. After Sam had fallen asleep Cas showed up asking Sam was.
With tears in his eyes Bobby answered, "He doesn't remember us Castiel. I don't think he actually knows who he is. Is there any way we can help him?"
Looking up, Dean looked up with hoped filled eyes, still stroking his brother's hair. With a deep sigh Cas spoke, "No, I'm sorry. All you can do is help him, try to make him smile. I'm sorry I can't be more help. I'm sorry but I must go now, there are rouge angel's starting war in heaven to try and rule it. I'm sorry I must go." And with a soft flutter of wings Castiel was gone once again.
Left alone to their thoughts on how to help Sam, Dean and Bobby sat leaning against the wall staring at the youngest Winchester hoping that one day he will be right again.
It was two weeks before they got Sam to have a bath. The first few times they tried Sam freaked and tried to get as far away as possible. It was a saving grace that he hadn't been eating properly as well; he would never eat more than a few bites. Once they managed to get all the dirt and grime off they realised how worse of Sam was. His back was a criss-cross of old and new cuts and scars, bruises covered the majority of his body, you could see each rib and bone and where each one had been broken and not healed properly. There were deep bruises on his sides from where he lay. It was horrifying. Both of the hunters had to try to keep their lunches down as they saw each injury.
Dean felt hopeless, more so than he had at Cold Oak, Sam may have died then but Dean had hope of getting him back. Now he was not so sure, he had never really recovered from his years down in hell, just got better at hiding it. But this was Sam, this wasn't pain that you expected, this was pain done to break the spirit not the soul. It wasn't like Sam was brought back hole with no pain after each session. This was torture done over old pains. He had no idea how Sam was ever going to get over this.
It took a whole three months before Sam spoke his first words to them. For the months before Sam had been steadily eating more and more food, he was filling out again and looking more human with his colour returning. He would still tense every now and then if he saw them when he woke up but that had slowly started too stopped.
The first time he spoke, Dean and Bobby where changing him out of his sleep clothes and into some sweats and a baggy T-shirt. If they hadn't of been so close they would never have caught it. At first all they hear was a mumble, looking up shocked they saw Sam lips moving and trying to say something.
"What is it kiddo?" Dean clasped Sam's hands, renewed hope filling him that Sam was getting better. "What are you trying to say?"
Sam looked up at Dean with wide eyes and started trembling, Dean recognised it as Sam breaking down, he did it a lot if he got scared of freaked out. Mumbling quiet reassurances to him Sam relaxed and tried to speak again.
They missed it a first but Sam kept repeating it over and over, his voice getting stronger and louder each time until he was at speaking level.
"Dean and Bobby safe. Dean and Bobby safe." He kept repeating it as if it was prayer.
With tears in their eyes the hunters smiled at Sam and gave him brief gentle hugs in relief.
A few months after that Sam was moving round the house on his own, in Bobby's library, in the living room….any were that wasn't the bedroom or basement but it was always a room that had either Bobby or Dean in. It was so good to see Sam moving around, even when he was little Sam would also fidgeted. Even in his sleep. So seeing Sam so still those first few months was heart-breaking.
Along with the walking came sentences. Hearing someone speak wouldn't normally be a cause for celebration but to hear an actual sentence come out instead of just "Dean and Bobby safe" was one of the best things ever.
The first time Sam asked for something Dean was about ready to cry. "Can I have some water?"
It was such a simple question but it held so much weight with the two hunters. It showed Sam trusted them enough to ask for something and that he wasn't totally gone. That night the three of them had pie and beer. Well Dean had pie, Bobby had beer and Sam had water. But it was all done with smiles and it did feel like a celebration for Dean and Bobby. All their hard work to get Sam to talk and become his own person was starting to pay off.
But that was where there good look ended.
Every night from then on Sam would have night terrors so bad that when Dean and Bobby found the screaming man he was usually outside hiding behind an old rusty beat up car, hunched over trying to become invisible and crying. Those nights it took them about an hour to two to calm Sam down …and they were the good nights.
When it was a bad night, it was bad. Most people would say the only way that could be worse is if he didn't stop running or didn't stop screaming without help from medication. But they'd be wrong.
What was worse was when Sam didn't scream in the night and when Dean and Bobby came to get him in the morning he would be covered in a cold sweat staring blankly at the wall. Those days there was nothing to pull Sam back to the edge of consciousness. He would lie on the bed for days on end staring at something on the wall. He wouldn't sleep. He had to be force feed and made to drink. He would do absolutely nothing. Nothing. Just blink. No twitching or anything. He looked like a 6'4" statue.
It scared Dean and Bobby. Whenever he got like that they worried he would revert back to his old self. Cas came every now and then to see how Sam was but as he could not help he usually left quickly to carry on with whatever he was doing. Dean used to try to keep up with what was going on upstairs but found that Sam required a lot of his attention so just stopped trying.
Getting close to the anniversary of Sam's rescue a miracle happened…
The young man, Sam, was confused. Where ever he was there was no pain…no fear. It didn't feel right to him. All he could ever remember was fear. When Bobby and Dean first tried to come near or touch him he cringed back, anticipating a slap of worse but when nothing came, nothing ever came, he started to relax.
When they first tried to get him into the wall Sam new it was too good to be true, too good to last any longer. They were going to do what he used to. That man with the black eyes.
Sam was being a good boy today. He didn't try to run. He didn't try to talk without the man's permission. He was a good boy. He didn't want another punishment. He didn't want any more pain. He just wanted Dean, a name that no longer held any meaning to him other than that this Dean was important to him. When the man came Sam followed like the good boy he was. Up the stairs, into a new room. There was a metal thing filled with cold water.
The man grinned at the young boy with wicked eyes. Without hesitation the man grabbed the boy's hair and pulled him to the water. The young man tried to find purchase on the slipper floor but found none. Tears spilled down onto his cheeks from the pain in his head as his hair was pulled from his scalp.
As they drew nearer and nearer the young man found himself panting for breathe. It was only when he was inches away from the metal thing did he feel the heat and see the steam. Crying out with fear the young man struggled with vigour to get away from what would be his latest punishment for something he didn't know he had done wrong.
He seemed to be doing a lot of stuff wrong lately. Couldn't do anything right, maybe he did deserve this pain. Maybe he wasn't important to this Dean anymore, for if he was then surely this Dean would have come to get him, safe him or just…he didn't know. Just something!
His laps in concentration had given the man the opportunity to lift the young man's head up and into the water. Resisting the urge to scream the young man started pushing at the hands holding his head submerged in the water, but nothing worked.
Tears trickled from his eyes mixing in with the boiling water as it burned his face. When the struggling lessened to barley any movement the man finally allowed the young man to lift his head out of the water. Collapsing onto the floor the young man gasped air into his sore lungs. Laughing the man watch the young man struggle for breathe for a few minutes before starting again.
Hours later he stopped when the water had turned to ice and the young man had finally stopped struggling all together.
Coming out of his memories Sam had started to struggle for all his worth, which wasn't much so he started screaming as well, to try to get away from the familiar punishment, he couldn't deal with that pain again.
To Sam's great surprise they had let him go and didn't try to get him near the water again for a few days. When they tried again he gave in, if they were going to keep trying then he may as well just get it over and done with. He let them manipulate his body into the positions they wanted and tensed waiting for the pain. Nothing came. Just the gentle caress of the soft cloth on his arms, back, legs and face. No one tried to get his head nearer to the water. As they carried on with their business Sam slowly found himself relaxing more and more.
As the weeks the weeks went on with no pain, Sam started to relax around Dean and Bobby. He listened to what they said as he didn't want these nice people to hurt him. What really confused him though was that they kept asking him to ask question or answer them, he was not used to this and didn't know what he was allowed to say so kept quiet.
They were patient and persistent though, when they asked questions he tried to answer them but all he could make were noises. They gave him food. Something comfy to sleep on and among other things but most importantly they gave him that strange feeling. It took him ages to remember the names to the feelings and when he did he just had to tell them. Let them know how much they meant to him.
At first it hurt to speak but he kept trying, when he finally managed to sound it out to himself properly for the first time he was elated. He could finally do something right. He tried to say it again but found that his voice was quiet and barely carried to Dean and Bobby. This didn't deter him though, every time he tried his voice got stronger and louder. When he finally got to speaking at the same level as they did, did he stop trying to get louder.
For hours it felt like he sat there and said "Dean and Bobby safe", he didn't stop until both had repeated it back to him. He sat there and watched as the men hugged him and each other with tears in their eyes. Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt them? He would ask but his nerve for the day had been used up on the act of speaking so he contented himself to just sitting there.
It wasn't long after that that Sam found some confidence to ask for stuff, he still stuck close to Dean and Bobby. He liked how they made him feel, safe. He marvelled at the simple happiness of being able to make a choice on what to do. It made him feel lighter inside. The only problem this caused was with the lighter he felt the more pressure in his head. It had been steadily building up and was getting close to the point where it couldn't be ignored.
He woke up from horrific nightmares of monsters, finding Dean in a puddle not moving, barely breathing, watching Deans chest get ripped open again and again, watching Bobby get shot, people burning on ceilings and feeling the air being chocked out of his body over and over again.
The pain the nightmares gave him made it nearly impossible for Sam to function, some days he wouldn't even have the energy to lift his head where as others had him coiled so tightly he would flinch at every noise in the old house.
When he'd been with Dean and Bobby for almost a year he had one of the strangest dreams.
He lay in a crappy bed that smelled of stuff he didn't want to think about, his Dad was in the neighbouring town hunting a…wendigo, witch…he didn't know, he wasn't even supposed to know about that stuff but he had read his Dad's journal one night when he and Dean had left him on his own. Now he wished he hadn't as every time they left to 'work.' Sam was scared they wouldn't be returning.
His Dad and Dean never knew about this and they never would if Sam could help it. 8 year olds don't cry. Luckily this 'job' left Dean home with him. Admittedly sat on an un-comfy sofa watching crap TV but Sam couldn't help but love it. He didn't see Dean anymore and he missed his big brother, although if his brother sighed one more time he would be against causing what little bodily harm he could.
"Hey Sammy, do you wanna go to the park for a bit?" Dean's hopeful voice called across the small motel they had been squatting in for the past few days.
"Sure." He had happily agreed. He needed to get out of this room before he went crazy.
After locking up the motel behind them Dean and Sam walked steadily for 10 minutes to the park. Upon entering Sam stayed to the edges while Dean started with a group of kids his age from school.
Wanting to let Dean enjoy himself Sam started to explore the surrounding area, keeping his brother in his line of sight.
Wondering in the thick trees Sam trekked deeper and deeper into the woods. He got distracted by the sounds of animals flitting around through the foliage. It wasn't until it was dark and Sam could barely see that he realised he was lost and hungry; he didn't know what time it was. Dean was sure going to be pissed.
Sam stumbled for hours until he finally gave up and just sat curled up under a tree silently crying. He must have been like that for hours, sleeping on and off. He was in the middle of dozing of when he heard a far of voice calling his name.
"SAM!" The voice was deep and horse like it had been shouting for hours. It was Dean.
"OVER HERE!" He yelled back, he voice cracking as it worked round the lump in his throat caused by the tears.
He heard the answering thrumming off feat pounding against the hard ground, crunching leaves and snapping twigs.
He suddenly found himself encased in Dean's arms.
"DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN SAMMY. YA HEAR?" Sam nodded his head against his brothers' shoulder, too scared to let go again. With a sigh Dean picked up Sam and carried him back to the motel.
Sam didn't leave his brothers side for a long time.
Sam and John where screaming in another motel. This time about his college acceptance letter.
Sam just couldn't carry on hunting, it brought him no joy, and it felt like he was slowly dying inside. But what hurt worse wasn't his father screaming, "IF YOU LEAVE NEVER COME BACK!" No. What hurt the most was the way Dean just stood there and didn't say anything, anything to make Sam think he still had one person left in his life.
With a deep sigh Sam packed his stuff up and left without turning back.
He had image after image bombard his mind, always around Dean though, Bobby was there some of the times and there was the angel Castiel there as well. He felt over whelmed. How could he have forgotten his family? He didn't know but he had them now.
Groaning Sam hauled himself out of bed and made his way down into Bobby's lime green kitchen. Bobby had his back turned to him frying some bacon. Walking up behind Bobby with the stealth of a hunter Sam wrapped his long arms around Bobby and hugged him.
With a gasp Bobby dropped his spatula and turned to see who it was. Upon seeing Sam he took note of his eyes, they were clearer than he had seen in a long time. He could see his boy back. With tears in his eyes Bobby hugged Sam back. Tightening his grip on Sam until he was almost hurting him, Bobby clutched on. He didn't care if Dean came back in from his stroll around the junk yard and saw this 'chick-flick moment'. He was just happy to have his son back.
They held on for a long time. Both silently crying until Dean came back in. upon hearing the back door creak open Sam released Bobby and hugged Dean. Bobby smiled to himself as he watched his boys hug. He almost started sobbing when he heard Sam's voice soothing Dean.
"I'm here Dean. I'm not going anywhere. It's alright now."
Bobby hopped that everything was going to be alright now. His boys deserved a break for all they had done.
THE END