During a snow storm, a mysterious stranger gives Sam a lift. His life will be changed forever.
AU.
The snow whirled menacingly around him, blocking out any clear line of sight, and Sam wondered why he hadn't stayed back in the Mercedes. At least he'd have remained dry if nothing else.
Eighty thousand pounds of meticulous German workmanship and the fucking thing had to stall in the middle of a no-cell-signal road during the freakiest snow-storm to hit Nevada in fifty years.
Maybe this was his fate, to die of hypothermia on some backroad. He doubted any other idiot would be out in this, so he couldn't believe his luck when through the thick falling snow, he could just make out the headlamps of a car. He'd have to stand right in front of it for the driver even to notice him, hoping he didn't end up being hit.
To his surprise, the car drew to a halt at his side, as if the driver had clearly seen him.
:
As far as Sam could make out it was some kind of muscle car.
The side window rolled down and a man poked his head out, the music of Metallica blaring from within. 'You need a lift, dude? Didn't think anyone was gonna be hitch-hiking in this.'
From what Sam could see, the guy seemed young, not much older than himself.
But Sam had been brought up not to trust strangers. His dad and mom were wealthy and they lived in fear that their only son might be kidnapped for ransom.
So even under the extreme weather conditions, Sam hesitated.
:
'Get in, dude,' the guy said. 'Or they'll be finding a frozen body on the highway tomorrow. And I wouldn't want to have that on my conscience.'
He was right. Sam had a choice between freezing to death on the roadside or taking a chance that the man wasn't a serial killer. At least he wasn't driving a windowless van!
'Okay. Thanks.'
Sam circled the car and opened the passenger door to a loud creak, folding himself in.
It was warm and Sam let himself enjoy the heat for a moment before studying his rescuer.
'You got a name?' the unknown asked, putting the car into drive and inching slowly forward in the near zero visibility.
'Uh, Sam.'
'Nice to meet ya, Sam. I'm Dean.'
The guy barely gave him a glance, his eyes focused on the road.
:
'So, Sam, what's a nice guy like you doing in the middle of a snow-storm instead of sitting by the fire playing video games?'
Dean turned to glance at him, unleashing a killer smile.
Huh, Sam thought to himself. The girls back at Stanford would be all over him like bees on honey. Apart from the smile, he was handsome enough to have been a movie star.
The face, though, wasn't entirely unfamiliar.
Sam tried to place it. Maybe he'd seen something about him on the news. Could be he really was a celebrity! He was strangely curious to find out more about his rescuer.
:
'I was heading home from college for the week-end, never expecting to find myself in the middle of this freak storm. My ride decided to stand me up and there's no cell cover in this area.'
'So, pretty fucked up then.'
'Yeah, I guess. Good thing you came along.'
Dean tapped his hand on the dashboard. 'My baby never lets me down. She's faithful in any kind of weather.'
Sam grinned. A guy who loved his wheels couldn't be all that bad. He let himself relax a little.
'I could ask you the same e question. Why are you out in this gunge of a storm?'
'Well, actually, I was tailing you.'
Sam had only a moment to process the words when a punch to the jaw rendered him unconscious.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
In all his pampered life, Sam had never been struck. Sure, he'd taken a hit or two playing soccer and stuff, but to find himself coming to, from a physical wallop, was definitely a first.
'Sorry about that,' a nebulous voice apologised. 'But I didn't think you'd collaborate willingly.'
Blinking open his eyes, Sam went to lift a hand to caress his throbbing, painful jaw, but the rope around his bound wrists wouldn't allow it.
Focusing his eyes on the figure sitting on the bed opposite, he made a mental note never to accept a lift, not even during a freak storm, that was if he ever made it back home alive.
'I'm not going to hurt you, dude,' Dean said, as if reading Sam's mind. 'I just want to talk to you, that's all.'
'I might believe it if you hadn't trussed me up like a turkey to this chair.'
'I already apologised,' Dean grinned easily. 'I'm willing to cut the ropes if you give me your word you won't try to run.'
:
A deep frown furrowed Sam's brow.
'If some weirdo had kidnapped you and tied you up, wouldn't you try to run?' he replied, more pissed than frightened, now that his kidnapper hadn't pulled out any knives or guns yet.
'Guess I would,' Dean agreed. 'That's why I took precautions.'
Sam's jaw was still throbbing like a bitch. All he wanted was to get away from this crazy dude and head for home.
'Are you gonna tell me what the fuck you want, or are you just gonna sit and stare at me?
He could've sworn his kidnapper's face had taken on a sad expression.
'It's been such a long time since I've seen you, kiddo. I just needed to be sure it was you.'
'I don't know you!' Sam spat out. 'Let me go and I'll forget all about this. I won't even rat on you to the cops.'
Dean stood up and began to pace the room. Now that he had Sam right there, in front of him, he was finding it difficult to proceed. Maybe he should let things lie, send the kid back home and forget everything. A part of him wanted to, but another needed closure.
:
'You an only child, Sam?'
'Yeah, so what?'
'You remember anything about when you were little?'
Dean passed a hand through his hair, he was finding this stressful. He'd imagined a hug-fest when he found his long-lost brother, but now he understood that although he'd spent years searching for him, Sam had forgotten the few memories he once had.
'What? Are you some kind of pervert?' Sam pulled at his bound wrists, trying to free his hands.
'Answer my questions and I might just let you go.'
:
With a huff, Sam tossed back his head.
He was as well to play along. Somehow, he didn't reckon Dean would hurt him, though he didn't quite understand why he should feel so confident about that.
'Uh, what do you want to know?'
'Your first memories.'
Closing his eyes, Sam cast his mind back. 'I remember my sixth birthday. Mom got me this awesome cake and all the Thundercat figures, and Dad a cool bike. It had those little wheels on the back and he was so proud when I learned to do without them.'
As he spoke, Dean's face once again took on a miserable expression. 'You remember anything before that?'
'Not really,' Sam frowned. 'Everything before that is one big haze.'
Dean nodded.
:
'So, you're happy then, Sam?'
Sam shrugged. This conversation was getting weirder by the minute. Since when did kidnappers want to know if you were happy. But he sensed that Dean really expected him to answer.
'Yeah. I suppose I am. My parents love me. They're wealthy and don't let me want for anything. I go to a great college, have a wonderful girlfriend. That answer your question?'
:
A feeling of acceptance came over Dean.
After all these years, he'd finally found his brother. Adult Sam's features were his baby brother's all grown up. But Dean was going to let him go.
Sammy was happy. That's all Dean needed to hear. He wasn't going to fuck up his new life in any way.
:
Taking out a wicked looking knife from his duffel, Dean came towards his captive and for a moment Sam thought he'd misjudged the older man, but Dean merely sliced through the ropes and took a step back.
'Sorry, dude. I put you though all this for nothing. The snow seems to have stopped. If you want I'll drive you back to your car and replace this little fella I removed from the engine.'
He waved a narrow tube in the air.
'Wait a minute! You sabotaged my car! What the hell for?' Sam asked confused. 'And now you're gonna let me go as if nothing happened.'
'That's right. If you don't want to accept my offer, you can call from the motel reception. I'm sure someone will come rushing to get your car back on the road.'
But Sam wasn't going to let it go so easily.
He grabbed Dean's arm and turned him around, face to face. 'Either you're really fucked up or there's a reason for all this. Why the theatricals, just to let me go?'
'If you want I can tie you up again,' Dean said, but there was no accompanying grin. Only the self-same sadness as before.
'NO!' Sam yelled. 'I'm not going to let you leave until you tell me the truth, 'cos you're lying though your teeth, dude!'
:
Dean held up his hands in a gesture of peace. 'Listen I made a mistake, okay? I thought you were someone else. Someone I lost track of a long time ago. Just pretend this was a weird dream and go off home to your perfect life.'
'Who was it? Who did you lose track of?' Sam insisted.
Dean lowered his eyes. He wasn't intending to say more, but the words came out of their own volition. 'My little brother.'
Of all the things Sam was expecting, this was so not it!
'Your brother? What happened?'
'It was my fault. The kid was fed up being shut inside the room, so I took him to the park. I only turned my head for a second, and when I looked back, he'd disappeared. Been looking for him ever since.'
'And you thought I was …. him?'
'Yeah, though you're not the first, dude. None of the previous kids turned out to be my brother either. Gonna have to keep looking I guess.'
:
'Sam. Was that his name? Like mine?'
'Doesn't mean anything. Lots of Sams in the world. Then whoever took him could've changed it,' Dean shrugged.
But the story had awoken Sam's interest now and he wanted to know more. 'How old was he when he went missing?'
'Five, going on six.'
'So that's why you wanted to know about my earliest memories?'
'You got it, geek boy.'
'So why can't I remember any?' Sam muttered to himself.
'What?'
'So why can't I remember any?' Sam repeated.
'Maybe you blocked them out, or you just don't have that good a recall. I can hardly remember my mom. She died when I was nearly five.'
:
Sam's expression grew soft, his eyes gentle. 'I think you're a good guy, Dean. And I believe your story, even if it's weird as fuck.'
Dean's eyes met his. 'I'm sorry you're not my brother, Sammy. We might just have hit it off.'
:
Turning away, he zipped up the duffel. He didn't want Sam to see the tears welling up in his eyes. He'd found his brother after years of futile searching and here he was, ready to let him go.
He felt Sam grip his arm, turning the older man's body towards his own.
Quickly Dean wiped a hand across his eyes and made to push past.
:
'Sammy,' that's what you used to call me.'
Dean's breath hitched. 'What did you say?'
Again, Sam frowned. 'I remember being called Sammy. Someone with green eyes like yours used to say it often.'
Dean stilled. He couldn't move. Sam's hazel eyes bored into his, digging down into the memories the older man possessed and which were now beginning to filter back into Sam's mind like water trickling from a finger-hole in a dam.
'Sammy.'
Dean whispered the word like a prayer.
'Dean.' Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. 'I cried so much when I couldn't find you, Dean. So fucking much.'
He pulled his big brother into his arms and rested his head on the smaller man's shoulder, inhaling the once-familiar scent. And after a moment's hesitation, Dean did the same. He'd found him. Sammy was home.
For now, that was enough. There would be time to talk later.
The end