So this is just another idea I thought up :P Summary: Sam and Dean were separated the day Sam was born, and never even knew of the other's existence. John takes Sam and Mary takes Dean, so Dean is raised in the hunter life while Sam isn't. Nineteen years later John disappears and Sam goes looking for him, and ends up running into what Dean is hunting. Things go from there with the boys meeting each other and not knowing that they're brothers, but they will eventually find out (if I decide to continue this :D) R&R please! Disclaimer: I don't own them, they belong to Sera *grrr*
Dad is missing. Missing as in gone. Gone as in disappeared off the face of the fucking planet.
Sam's mind whirled with the thought as fear dug its frigid claws into his lungs, suffocating him in its cold embrace. Regret was right up there alongside fear too, because the last thing he had sad to Dad was that he hated him. It was a stupid argument over college. Sam wanted to go but his Dad didn't, he said it was too dangerous for him to go out on his own.
Sam called bullshit on that; he was nineteen for God's sakes! He was technically an adult according to the law and was even allowed to smoke if he wanted to. Not that he did, but it was the thought that counted. Sam was an adult and he chose to go to college. His father, however, refused to see things his way, so Sam got mad and said some things he didn't necessarily mean.
Well he was regretting it now because by the time he got home that night after storming out, his Dad was gone. He just vanished into thin air. All his stuff was still in the motel room, his duffel bag, his toiletries, hell all the papers for his current job were still there. The only thing missing was him.
Sam was frantic with worry by the time he called Ellen, the only other person he knew that may know where his Dad had gone. He was pacing back and forth over the dirty motel rug as the phone rang and rang and rang. "Come on" He muttered into the phone as if saying something would make her pick up faster.
Finally it cut off and a feminine voice filtered through the receiver. "Hello? This is the Roadhouse, what can I do for you?"
Sam breathed a sigh of relief, forcing his legs to stop their pacing. "Ellen. Thank God. Look, Dad is missing and I don't know where he could have gone. You know anything?"
"Sam? Oh sorry, boy. I don't have any idea where that man got off to. You sure he didn't just go to the bar or something?" All hope he had of Ellen holding the answer shattered at her words.
"No. He left all his stuff here and he never goes off to the bar without telling me first. Or calling me. We may not be winning any family awards any time soon, but he knows to call me at least if he's going somewhere. But he didn't, Ellen. He's just gone and I don't know what to do." Sam was aware how childish he sounded at that moment, but he was nineteen! And while nineteen year olds could smoke if they wanted to, they still couldn't drink, so he still needed his Dad around to keep him on the straight on narrow, right? It was okay to act like a kid at times.
"Alright sweetie, just calm down. I'll see if Ash knows anything, okay? I'll call you back when I know something. And Sam? Don't go doing anything stupid, you hear?" Ellen's voice took on that motherly tone she sometimes used when talking to him. She took pity on the fact his Mom died during his birth and took it upon herself to act like his mother when the time called for it. He was secretly glad for that fact, because nineteen years of living with a man-shaped hunk of testosterone was getting hard to cope with.
"Yeah. Kay, Ellen. I won't." Sam promised as he hung up, but it was a flimsy promise riddled with holes. Like Hell he wasn't going after his Dad. He wasn't losing the only member of his family he had left, even if said member and himself didn't get along much at all.
It was three gruesome hours later when his phone finally rang again. He practically flew from the bed he was laying on to grab his phone off the table and flip it open in record time.
"Ellen?" He asked hopefully.
"Yeah, Sam, It's me. Ash said that some weird things have been going in the region of South Dakota that you're campin in. Things like people vanishing and all. Look, I know you're worried about your Dad, but be smart about this Sam. Some rabid bear or something is out there killing folk. Why don't you tell the police about your Dad and let them handle this?"
Sam held his breath for a minute before slowly releasing it. The news didn't sound good. A rabid animal killing people and dragging them away into the woods? And from their motel room? Sam doubted that any animal would be able to drag his Dad anywhere, at least not without a fight. But there was no sign of one in the small motel room. Like Sam said before, his Dad just vanished.
"Yeah. Sure, Ellen, you got it. The police can handle this one. I think they're better suited for hunting down wild animals anyways." Sarcasm was leaking into his tone, but he tried to hide it from Ellen. Like Hell he was letting the police handle this. The police could barely find the nearest donut shop. No, he'd find his Dad on his own.
"Alright, Sam. Thanks. I don't think I could take it if something happened to you too." There was no hint of suspicion in her voice as she spoke. Maybe Sam was better at lying than he thought.
"Sure thing." Sam flipped the phone closed and tossed it carelessly onto the sheets.
He ran a weary hand down his face and glanced outside. The moon smiled back at him in the sky, its white glow illuminating the forestry outside the motel. Shaking his head, Sam stalked over to his Dad's duffel bag and rifled through it, pushing away clothes and papers until he found what he was searching for.
The silver metal of the Desert Eagle glinted in the moonlight as he slipped the licensed weapon into his waistband. He had been hunting with his Dad before, but had never shot anything. He could never bring himself to shoot the poor deer as it ran through his crosshairs, something that his Dad constantly berated him for.
Still, if he was going to rescue his Dad from some rabid, wild bear or wolf, then he was going to need some sort of weapon. He pulled the hunting knife out next, the thing his Dad used to skin his prey, the thing that he hated to see. Nevertheless, he slipped the blade into his boot and turned towards the door.
His chest expanded with the huge breath he took as he tried to calm his racing nerves, and then deflated as he let the breath out slowly. It was a calming technique this Dad taught him along with martial arts. He would always say that you needed to be calm in a fight, because anger made you sloppy.
It was practically the only thing that Sam was grateful that his Dad taught him. He used to be small for his age and people used to pick on him at school for it, but he surprised them by putting them all on their asses. Now though, he was at least six feet tall and still growing, so no one picked on him anymore, especially since he started working out.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he took one last look around the motel room before walking out the door and locking it behind him, determination shining in his eyes as he set off towards the woods. He said a silent apology to Ellen for breaking his promise before the darkness of the forest swallowed him up.
()()()()SPN()()()()
Dean hated werewolves with a passion. He hated the way that they were once normal, innocent people who suddenly became monsters that he had to put down. He hated the way that their bodies morphed and changed with the sound of snapping bones, but how their eyes didn't. He hated how those same human eyes stared you down with an inhuman hunger. But most of all? Dean hated how Goddamn hard they were to freaking kill.
"Seriously." Dean spat, answering his own thoughts as he waded through the underbrush silently. He had been tracking this same pack of werewolves for weeks now, but every time he got close they always slipped away. His Mom wouldn't have had any trouble if she was still alive, but she had bought the farm last year hunting a shapeshifter. It was a rookie slip-up that had his Mom six feet under right now.
"Shut up." Dean whispered, not caring that he was currently answering his own thoughts. He had been pretty messed up when his Mom died, she was the only family he had left. Well, besides Bobby, who stood as practically a father to him. His real father? His real father was a bastard who ran away before he was old enough to even remember what he looked like, or so Bobby told him. The older hunter constantly told him how the last time he saw Dean's real father, it was with a loaded shotgun poised to shoot the man.
His Mom though, never spoke one bad thing about him. She always used to tell him how his Dad was some kind of hero. She used to tell him how his Dad simply wanted an easier life, he never was one for hunting, and so he walked out and took that life for himself. Every time she spoke of him, she'd get this expression on her face. It was a mixture of pride, longing, and sadness. It was such a deep sadness that Dean couldn't help but hate his father for putting it on her face.
A twig snapped somewhere off to his right, and he swung his pistol towards the sounds. The Taurus was loaded with silver bullets just itching to punch right through some evil werewolf's heart.
Another twig snapped, further up and he followed the sound's progress, tracking it with his gun. It was getting steadily closer and he was beginning to think that this werewolf was asking to die, with all the racket it was making as it walked. Usually werewolves, or any other supernatural creature for that matter, were extremely stealthy.
Dean decided to count his blessings and crouched behind a bush, his Taurus trained on the spot he knew the werewolf would be walking through.
As soon as he saw movement, he was pulling the trigger and letting a bullet fly at the coming werewolf. The only thing was, was that the thing that came from the trees wasn't a werewolf, it was a person. A human. A kid.
He noticed just in time to pull his shot wide a bit, so that instead of hitting the kid's chest, it hit his shoulder instead. Dean heard the kid cry out in pain as the bullet tore into his shoulder and slammed him into the ground.
"Shit!" He muttered angrily, because seriously, what the Hell was a kid doing in the middle of the woods at midnight? Still, his hunter instincts had him racing over to the kid to see if he was okay. "Hey! Kid! You okay? Talk to me."
He put a hand on the kid's unwounded shoulder and shook him lightly. The last thing he needed right now was the werewolf catching the scent of this kid's blood and coming over here.
Dazed eyes a stunning blue-green opened to stare at him confusedly. He opened his mouth to ask the kid again when suddenly the kid's eyes cleared and he found himself looking down the barrel of an impressive looking Desert Eagle.
"Whoa! Whoa." Dean pulled his hands away from the boy and put them up, palm out, in a non-aggressive manner. "I thought you were a wolf. I didn't mean to shoot you, I swear. Are you okay?" He spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun and going over in his mind how fast he could disarm the kid if it came to it.
"Yeah…right. You think I'll…just believe that?" The kid ground out in obvious pain as he writhed on the ground, trying to relieve the pressure from his hit shoulder. "Die…you son of a bitch." The words were just a whisper, but the report of the gun was deafening.
Dean stared in blank amazement at the smoking barrel of the gun, fully expecting the pain to hit any second now, but it never did. He glanced over his shoulder to see a hole in the tree behind him. A warning shot then.
He looked back at the kid, and his eyebrows rose in astonishment at the look of utter frustration in his expression. He couldn't possibly be that bad a shot to have missed at point blank.
"Damn it." The kid muttered weakly as the gun dropped back to his side. He looked up at Dean with eyes scarily similar to those of a kicked puppy, and it pulled at something inside him. Something he never even knew was there.
"Look…uh…kid. Look, kid, I swear I didn't mean to hit you. If I was meaning to shoot you, you'd be dead with a hole through your heart right now." The words were out of his mouth before he had time to consider what it might sound like to the boy he just shot.
A look of disgust crossed his face. "Oh that's reassuring." He mumbled, his voice fading slightly.
Concern for the kid hit him out of nowhere, and he suddenly felt the need to make sure this kid was okay. "Okay, uh…" Dean started.
"Sam." The kid helpfully supplied.
"Okay, Sam, can you stand? Walk?" Dean scooted closer in case he needed to help.
"It's just a flesh wound. I'm not an invalid." The kid, or Sam, said as he pushed up slowly from the ground, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Dean got behind him and used his hands to help lever Sam up while simultaneously checking Sam's back for an exit wound.
He cursed silently when he found none, meaning that the bullet was still lodged inside the kid's shoulder. The threat of infection was high with a wound like that, and worry started eating at his nerves.
Wait a minute. Why did he even care?
Some random kid shouldn't be wandering around in the woods in the first place.
"Why were you out here in the woods in the first place?" Dean decided to voice his thoughts as he got Sam standing.
"Picking daisies." Sam responded so seriously that it had Dean's head snapping towards the boy in disbelief. He was ready to go off on the kid when he saw the mixed look of amusement and caution on the boy's face.
So he didn't trust Dean. Hell, Dean wouldn't trust the guy who shot him either, accident or not.
The kid sighed. "I'm looking for my Dad. He went missing today, and friends told me that some rabid animal has been taking people in the woods. So, I came out here myself. My Dad is the only person I have left, I can't lose him too." Sam continued as he leaned against a tree for support.
Dean's eyebrows drew down in thought for a moment when a snapping twig had his attention focusing on the direction of the sound. His Taurus was drawn out in front of him before he even blinked.
"What-" Sam started to say, but stopped when an ear-splitting scream shattered the relative quiet of the night.
Immediately Dean's mind was working, determining that the source of the sound was close by, which meant that the werewolf was close by too.
Sam's mind, though, was on other things. "Dad!" He shouted in horror before taking off towards the sound. The idiot didn't know what he was dealing with!
"Wait, Sam!" Dean shouted futilely at the retreating figure, his feet already racing after the taller kid.
A shot rang out ahead of him followed by angry growling. "Shit!" Dean cursed as he broke through the tree-line and out into a grassy clearing. The moon illuminated the dark fur of the werewolf as it lunged at Sam, who was firing his Eagle at the beast sporadically.
Every one of his bullets hit their mark in the wolf's chest, but they weren't silver, so the wolf didn't react at all. It leapt at Sam again and took him down this time, its gaping jaws coming down to snap at Sam's face.
Sam managed to get his hands around the wolf's neck though, and he squeezed powerfully, keeping the snapping jaws away from his flesh.
Taking action, Dean lifted the Taurus and took aim. His expert marksmanship had the fired bullet ripping straight through the wolf's human eye. It screamed in pain and retreated off of Sam, but it didn't go down. No, only a shot to the heart would do that.
Its unwounded eye came to land on him, hatred burning in its depth, before the beast was charging at him. Hastily steadying his weapon, Dean took aim again. He pulled the trigger the moment the wolf leapt at him. The silver bullet punched through the werewolf's heart, killing it instantly.
He rolled out of the way as the body crashed into the ground next to him, bloody jaws snarling at him even in death.
When he came up from his roll, his eyes were immediately on the spot where Sam had been laying, only to find the kid gone. A quick search of the clearing had his eyes landing on Sam's hunched form. The kid was leaning over something and his body was shaking violently.
As Dean cautiously approached, he realized it was a man, an older man. He closed his eyes in disgust, shutting off his view of sightless dead eyes and bloody, pale skin. He couldn't see Sam's dead father, but he could hear the heart-wrenching sobs that ripped from Sam's throat as he hugged the man's body to himself.
After a while, Dean attempted to approach Sam and pry him away from the cooling body only to have Sam scream at him to leave him alone.
He contemplated burning the werewolf's body and walking away, but memories of a year ago when he himself was hugging his Mom's body and begging her to wake up surfaced in his mind. He knew how Sam felt right now, and he knew that being alone was the last thing the kid needed, so he stayed by Sam's crying form until blood loss and emotions took the kid down. He fell asleep crouched in the grass with his father's dead body clutched in his arms.
Dean looked up at the grinning moon and cursed life for being so unforgiving.
Gathering the sleeping kid in his arms, Dean stood and started back the way they came. He didn't know why, but he felt a need to keep the kid safe. Maybe it was because of the similar situation they both witnessed, the same tragedy. Or maybe it was because of another reason entirely.
That something pulled inside of him again, and it took him a while to place the feeling as protectiveness. It stretched inside him like a long unused muscle just beginning to warm up again.
He glanced down at the kid in his arms again. "We're alike, you and I. We both have nobody left, so I guess we gotta stick together now." A small smile appeared on his lips despite the grim circumstances. It was the first time he smiled since his Mom died. It was the first time he felt like there might be a purpose to living again.
()()()()SPN()()()()
Angry blue eyes tracked the retreating figure of the two humans. A low keen sounded from the werewolf's throat as it looked down at the fallen member of its pack. The leader of the pack turned sky blue eyes on the remaining members, a promise of revenge running through their snarls and growls as they dispersed into the woods.
Yup, so that's it for chapter 1. If you want me to continue it, or to trash it, just let me know Idk if the idea is a good one or not, but I'll let you decide. Let me know what you think! Thanks~ Thorn
