The Forgotten Warrior of Misery.
"Hope is a strange thing, like a currency for people who know they're losing."
For Liam Winchester life sure is full of surprises. Join the fourteen year old as he struggles to keep his family together without losing himself in the process. With Angels and Demons scattering pieces of his broken heart for all to see, the adolescent has grief, anger, loss, stress and sadness thrown onto him as all of the weight of the entire world is placed right between his shoulders.
III
By then, his coffee had gone stone cold, but John drank it anyway as a kind of punishment. It was the least he deserved. The very least.
He drained the cup and slammed it down hard on the table, hard enough it should have shattered. It didn't shatter, though, didn't even crack. So he slammed it down again and this time it did shatter. It made a noise like a gunshot.
No. Not like a gunshot. Not like a gunshot at all.
John knew what a gunshot sounded like and a shattering coffee cup didn't even come close. A shattering coffee cup sounded like... well, it sounded like a shattering coffee cup. A gun shot: now that was something else. A gunshot, up close, sounded like God cracking His knuckles in readiness for the mother of all fist fights.
What kind of blasted idiot carts a fourteen year old boy half way across the country to track down a demon that killed his wife over twenty years ago? She wasn't even his mother for heaven's sake.
Liam was generally the peacemaker between everyone. He'd be the first person to jump up into the middle of a fight and say "Do you think that was fair? That wasn't fair." The fights mostly being between John and Sam, squabbling over something or another. Sam had abandoned the family to go to college; Liam was the only one who didn't blame him. But of course he never voiced his opinion on his older brother leaving, just quietly sat at the table pretending to read a book on demonology as a thousand emotions hit him at one time.
West town, Chicago. There had been four deaths of four mothers in the past week, all dying of suffocation. The part that branches this from some guy gone bad to something inhuman was that a strange substance was found in and around the house when forensics turned up. They couldn't quite pinpoint what the substance was but it had to be sulphur.
III
"Whatcha got on this town?" John asked coolly pulling out a small notepad and pen whilst taking the seat opposite his son. Liam sighed tiredly and rubbed his hands over his face, then flicking through the book a last time.
"Well…A lot of the area was historically part of the city's Polish Downfall." He replied, aimlessly flicking through his notes. The poor kid looked fucked out, his eyes had bags underneath them and he was slurring slightly from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. But nevertheless there was a case to work and little time to waste.
"Uh-huh, what exactly was the Polish Downfall?" John urged Liam to continue, scribbling down a few words.
"C'mon dad, you seriously don't know this?" Liam joked but fell silent when he received a glare that made his skin crawl.
"Uh…well it was Chicago's oldest and most prominent Polish settlement." He continued quickly, swirling the cold coffee around in his Starbucks cup. He felt like he was fifty years old already. This kind of stuff would usually be Sam's job, Liam's job being to clean the weapons before and after every hunt and to make any preparations needed whilst John and Dean did the majority of the physical combat.
But Sam left and so did Dean, so Liam was left with fulfilling both of their jobs. Researching, cleaning and helping John out when he needed the help. He'd also got pretty good at stitches. Liam almost smiled victoriously before realising that he couldn't smile, not really any more.
John wrote down more notes before looking up to his youngest son, implying that he should carry on. Liam ran a hand through his dishevelled spikey brown hair and looked through his own notes for what felt like the fortieth time.
"There were a boat load of public hangings in 1852, if that's anything to go on." Liam put his notes down and downed the last mouthful of his cold coffee, gagging slightly as the sharp bitter taste hit the back of his throat. Adjusting the sleeve of his red and black checked shirt, he stood up and collapsed onto the bed; not bothering to take off his shoes.
"Thanks, kid." John started to get his things together and put on his leather jacket that Liam admired. Lifting his head from its former position on the thin motel blanket, Liam watched his father get ready.
"Alright, I'll be back late tomorrow maybe the next day. Check the salt lines and you know Bobby's number if there's anything you can't handle." He spoke quickly, slamming the door behind him; not even sparing a glance back. Liam sighed, dropped his head onto the itchy pillow and let sleep take him over for the first time in forty eight hours.
III
After only three hours sleep Liam was awoken by his cell phone ringing, and ringing goddamn loudly. Reaching to the bedside table, Liam grabbed the phone whilst almost falling out of bed in the process. He didn't check who it was before answering.
"What?" He answered abruptly, voice and eyes still groggy from sleeping or lack of.
"Well hello to you too, little brother." Dean's cheery voice came from the other side of the line, Liam cringed whilst sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"What do you want, Dean." Liam's voice sounded way too childlike for his own liking, his voice had broken but it still had its moments of pre-pubescent little girl.
"Who pissed in your cheerio's?" Dean chuckled. It sounded like he was driving somewhere, the all too familiar roar of the impala gave Liam a sinking feeling deep inside but there was no time for that emotional crap, he had a case to work.
"Dean, I'm busy." He finally sighed after a few moments of silence.
"So by that, Dad's got you working way too much and you haven't slept for days. Am I right?"
"Is there any specific reason why you called, Dean?"
"Yeah, actually. Where are you?"
"I've already told you, Dad doesn't want finding." Liam sighed tiredly again, he was all out of coffee; mentally debating making a quick stop off at Starbucks even though it was almost 10pm.
"I didn't ask what dad wants, Liam. Where are you?" Dean sounded agitated.
"I can't tell you! What is it going to take to get it into your thick skull?" Liam responded, sounding irritated.
"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist, Princess." Dean grumbled.
"What are you doin', anyway?" Liam asked, groaning silently as he stood up from the bed. He was getting old too fast, much too fast.
"I'm going to find Sam."
"Are you serious?" Liam asked with astonishment at how selfish his oldest brother could be.
"What do you think? Idiot,"
"Leave him alone, Dean. He got out of this life, why can't you accept that?" Liam was pacing the room with hot anger flowing through his veins.
"I don't need a lecture from a fourteen year old, go to fucking sleep." And with that the line went dead.
III
Seventeen chapters of demonology down, twenty three to go. Somehow, and God knows how; Liam had managed to stay up all night with nothing but pure will power to keep him going. The digital clock that flickered every so often read 5:49am, it was hardly worth going to sleep now. Not that going to sleep would help him in anyway, he'd still wake up alone. God, that was like a line from a chick flick.
Continuing to read the Demonology verse 18, a powerful knock at the door made him almost jump out of his seat. It wasn't really a knock at the door, it was like someone was punching it. And whoever it was meant business. Liam wearily stood from his seat on the bed and slipped his black and white converses on, just in case he had to do some serious running. He grabbed his handgun from under the not fluffy enough motel pillow and slid it into his waistband.
With his hunter instincts taking over, he took a few cautious steps towards the door whilst the banging got unbearably louder and more aggressive. He was as quiet as possible whilst he stood on his tiptoes to look through the peephole. What he saw amazed him, it was Dean; banging on the door mercilessly. How the fuck did he find them?
Tucking his knife into his waistband he unlocked and opened the door slowly to reveal Dean but without any equipment, no weapons, no luggage, nothing.
"…Dean?" Liam asked inquisitively, tilting his head before being shoved a little harder than his older brother would usually push him.
"Hey Liam," Dean replied, flunking himself on one of the two beds. Liam's breathing was laboured as he closed the door behind his brother and himself, leaning against it to get a hold of himself. Dean lifted his head and smiled at his younger brother, but it wasn't a Dean smile. It was something else.
"Dean? How did you get here? Last time you called you were in Cali," Liam's heart was going a trooper, he was happy that his brother was here and all but something wasn't right. Dean didn't know where him and his father were, he had no clue. And there was no way he could have gotten from California to Chicago in that amount of time, it would take him a day of driving at the least.
"Oh I knew where you two were all along, kiddo." Dean chuckled, sitting up quickly on the bed and making direct eye contact with Liam which wasn't creepy at all. Nope. "You seem tense, what's wrong?" Questioned Dean, tilting his head almost mockingly. Liam tensed further as he sat at the chair, Dean's eyes never left him as he did so.
"Nothing, man. It's just a little weird…" Liam said weaker than he hoped. "You were gone, you left to find Sam. I thought you were laying low for a while." Deans face scrunched up as he chuckled and slid a hand through his perfected hair.
"Well you know what they say, you just can't keep a good guy down." Dean replied coldly and Liam froze on the spot as his heart dropped into his fucking stomach.
That wasn't Dean.
III
Claiming that he was going for a shower, Liam hurried into the bathroom and turned the shower on but didn't get in. His heart was going a million to one and he was shaking like a chipmunk on steroids. This time it wasn't from too much caffeine; but he wished it was. Locking the door and pushing towels under the door to stop whatever that was from getting in, Liam pulled out his cell phone. He was in a mental debate whether to call his father or Dean, he chose the latter. It rung twice and Liam almost thought Dean wouldn't answer, he felt tears welling in his eyes.
Liam's only hope was that the phone would go off inside the motel and it was only him being paranoid, hoping that it was Dean in the other room but deep down he knew it wasn't.
"Yeah?"
"Dean…" Liam felt a tear fall from his right eye, followed by a few more.
"Li? You alright?" Dean's protectiveness came barrelling through as he heard the signs of a crying little brother.
"Dean oh my god." Liam was stuttering and crying now, but trying to keep the noise down as much as he possibly could so his voice was a mere whisper.
"Liam? You okay? Talk to me!"
"Oh my god, Dean there's another you in the front of the motel." Liam whispered desperately.
"What the fuck? What do you mean 'there's another me'?"
"There is another you in the other room, I'm hiding in the bathroom. I'm so scared Dean…" He admitted.
"Where are you? And you better fucking answer me this time, Liam." Dean sounded panicked as Liam heard him start the motor of the impala.
"I'm at the Du Wayne motel, West Chicago."
"Fuck, Liam It's gonna take me at least a day to get there."
"What the hell am I going to do?!" Liam whispered but making his disgruntlement known.
"You're gonna figure out what this thing is, and just go along with it. Me and Sam are on our way."
"Yeah, and get my intestines ripped out in the process!" Liam sensed a presence outside the bathroom door.
"Oh shit, I've gotta go Dean…" Liam shut the phone, got his hair a little wet and changed his clothes. He strolled out of the bathroom looking casual but caught the eye of 'Dean' who looked nothing but happy.
III
"Have a nice little chat, did we?" The thing snarled, walking up to Liam in an aggressive manor and looking down on him. Liam pushed the inner scared little boy to the back of his mind and brought the attitude to the front. If this thing was gonna kill him, he might as well piss it off beforehand.
"I dunno what you're talking about," Liam remarked, swerving 'Dean' and drying his hair with a towel. Suddenly, a strong hand wrapped around his throat as he went plummeting into the dry wall. Hitting it with an 'oof' Liam smirked at the creature before him and spat in its face.
"Do not lie to me you little insect, I could sever your cerebrum before you even knew anything about it." Liam wasn't sure what a cerebrum was, he'd be sure to ask Sam about it when he finally got rid of this arrogant son of a bitch.
"Well, that was kinda rude." Liam raised his eyebrows but as the grip on his throat tightened impossibly he began to scream and kick at the creature with all his might. Successfully getting the thing to drop him from the wall as he delivered a kick where the sun doesn't shine. I guess getting kicked in the nuts hurts, immortal or not.
Liam made a run for it, sprinting for the door and making it out wearing only a pair of jeans, a shirt and his sneakers. He ran faster than he'd ever ran before, finally making it to a corner shop where he desperately looked around for a drink of some sort. He found a cheap bottle of water and began to count out the change when the kind shopkeeper who's nametag read 'Casey' waved him off. "You look like you've been running for quite some time, kid. Take it on me." He smiled. Being too tired to cooperate, Liam just gave him the thumbs up and jogged out of the shop despite being painfully out of breath.
After what felt like hours of running, Liam made it to a fountain which had a few business men eating their lunch whilst sat on it. Or was it breakfast? He wasn't sure.
Pulling out his phone, Liam dialled his dad for the dreaded conversation. It rang a few times before the crappy voice mail came along, Liam cursed his father and waited for the beep. "Hey dad…It's Liam. I know you tell me to only call if it's an emergency but I think this is an emergency. I need you to call me, Dad. Please…" With this, Liam closed the phone and massaged his temples.
Almost seconds later a phone call came through from 'Dad'.
"Dad!" Liam said loudly, but no one noticed.
"Son, are you alright?"
"Yeah, but something really weird is going on and you weren't picking up the phone. I'm really freaking out." Liam's voice wobbled and he openly cursed himself for showing weakness.
"Liam, calm down. Tell me exactly what's happening."
"Sorry, sir. Dean knocked on the door this morning and I was pretty freaked but everything was normal, but then I started to notice things and oh my god, it wasn't Dean sir."
"Wasn't Dean? Then who the hell was it?"
"I don't know but he got really pissed when I came back from secretly calling Dea-…The real Dean from in the bathroom. He kinda choked me a bit so I ran."
"Are you hurt? I'm on my way now. Where are you?" A swarm of questions flew his way.
"I'm okay, I don't know I'm at some fountain."
"Okay. Stay there, I'll come get you when the coast is clear."
John put the phone down not even giving Liam a chance to reply. Liam sighed, running a sweaty hand over his face.
Such were the times.
III
"Dean, I can't just leave!" Sam complained, ironically whilst he and his brother were speeding down the motor way to get to Chicago. Dean rolled his eyes before returning to his stoic expression. The rest of the car ride was almost silent except for the quiet murmur of Metallica that Dean couldn't bring himself to sing along to.
"So what do you think this thing is?" Sam asked, a few minutes after waking up from his deep sleep.
"I don't know, but the son of a bitch is pretending to be me!" Dean hit the dashboard and sped the car up a little more. Breaking basically every speed limit ever set.
"You think Liam called dad?" Sam seemed weary, like he was almost scared of what his father would do as the last conversation they had he told him to leave and never come back. Yep, he was in for an awkward family reunion alright.
"Of course he did, he's not a stupid kid." Dean growled dangerously, silently telling Sam there was no room for argument even if he had a point to argue; which he didn't.
You basically couldn't fault Liam, apart from his sarcastic attitude. But that was the weird part everyone liked about him, he was probably the nicest rude person you'd ever meet. He and Dean didn't get on too great, they kinda clashed a little. Dean would make a rude comment and Liam would make a ruder one, it carried on until someone literally bashed their heads together. That someone usually being John.
Liam took puppy dog eyes to a whole new level. He had Heterochromia Iridium, which basically means his eyes are different colours. In Liam's case, one is blue and the other is green. The only downfall of this being that he's completely colour blind. He has been from birth; all he sees is black and white. The poor kid doesn't even know what colours look like.
I mean, standing at 5'3 with a family of guys well over 5'11 must suck pretty bad for the little fella.
III
"You son of a bitch!" John Winchester shouted as he decapitated the shape shifter that terrorised his youngest son. Blood splattered all over the pasty white walls as the shifter gasped for the final words that never came. "Well, there goes the deposit." John sighed as he gathered up his and Liam's things before swiftly leaving. It's a good job he signed in as 'John Michaels'.
Whilst making their way to the motel, they spotted John. Dean's anger bubbling over and Sam began to shake with anxiety as John looked over to them.
"Dad." Dean exclaimed at the blood all over his father.
"Don't, Dean. I'm guessing Liam called you two." John said slowly, keeping dreadful eye contact with Sam the entire time.
"Yeah, you take care of whatever it was?" Dean questioned coolly, leaning against the hood of the impala.
"Shape shifter after some fun, that's all. The bastards in the room with no head now." He smiled warmly at Dean, not even looking at Sam.
"Where's Liam?" Asked Dean again.
"He's waiting for me in town, you…two can follow behind." He commented, slamming the trunk shut and getting into his van. Sam sighed sadly and got into the impala again.
"Don't get all emo about dad, Sammy. He'll get over it." Dean lightly teased but there was a slight seriousness to his voice that neither brother missed.
III
Leaning against the street lamp for balance, Liam was getting damn tired of waiting. Almost on cue, Dad's van and the Impala came speeding around the corner like they were running from the police or something. Liam almost laughed but instead just stood there smirking as the three Winchesters climbed out of their cars.
"And what are you smirking at, short stuff?" Dean teased, but instantly regretted it when he saw Liam cower from the height joke.
"You okay?" John cooed over his youngest as always.
"I'm fine. Did you get it sir?" He asked tenderly, unsure of how high the tension levels were between his father and Sam.
"You bet. You did good, kiddo. But you could have done better." John complimented but quickly levelled it out with criticism. Sam noticed and shook his head in disbelief. It seems Sam wasn't the only one who noticed when Dean slyly elbowed him in the ribs.
"Liam, you go with Sam and Dean. We're on the move." John told his sons as everyone piled into their vehicles. With Dean driving, Sam in the passenger and Liam in the back, it was almost like old times and Liam almost smiled.
"Long time no see, Sam." Liam started, unable to stand the awkward silence that had fallen upon them.
"You too, buddy."
Dean kept quiet for once and the silence continued for a few more minutes before Liam broke it once again.
"Hey Sam, what's a cerebrum?"
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