Summary: Sam is kidnapped but they get him back and everybody is happy everafter. Right? - My take on how Sam keeps going after everything that has happened to him (from s1-5).
Spoiler-warning: Everything up to and including 5.17.
Timeline: Takes place somewhere before "My bloody Valentine" and "Dark side of the moon".
A/N: Okay, so this is it, my "History of Sam Winchester"-story. After endless nights of wonderful discussions with Ghost4 about how in hell Sam can go on after everything that was done to him since (and even before) his birth I was looking at Sam in MBV and how strong he is in that episode. I realized that at some point of his life he must have come to terms with a lot of stuff that has happened to him and I started wondering what might have happened to get him there.
This is what I came up with. I'm so nervous about this story, I almost decided not to post it at all.
Since Ghost4 refuses to accept co-author-credits (which she would really, REALLY deserve!!!) I'll simply credit her as my creative consultant, dictionary and wtf-am-I-going-to-do-with-that-scene savoir. Thanks hun, this wouldn't have been written without you at all, it's just as much your story as it is mine!
Beta by AnickaMarie who spots every mistake, no matter how much I try to hide them! ;)
Title and quotes taken from Jon Bon Jovi's "Santa Fe" from the Blaze of Glory-album.
If the devil has his way
...
Now I ain't getting into heaven, if the devil has his way...
...
Sam has been missing for 9 days when they finally find out who has taken him.
This time help comes from the one place Dean would never have turned to; in fact, it's none other than the tricks—Gabriel himself who gives Bobby a phone call and an address. When Bobby asks if this is just another of his sick jokes there is a meaningful pause, then the archangel simply tells him to "get there before they come back" and the line goes dead.
They quickly agree on calling Castiel for help which has Bobby joking about heavenly phone bills in a weak attempt to lighten up the mood. The fifteen seconds it takes to get the angel on the phone and then zap himself to the salvage yard almost seem too long for Dean's frayed nerves; he all but barks the address at him and waits for the familiar feeling of reality shift to hit him.
One torturous second later Dean and Castiel appear in front of an abandoned church near Santa Fe, New Mexico. It's a small building in the middle of a field, surrounded by nothing but grass and flowers as far as the eye can see. It seems too surreal, too peaceful, almost inviting, and that sets Dean's teeth on edge even before he has taken a step inside.
Castiel takes one look at the church and frowns.
"I cannot accompany you inside, this place is warded…" He breaks off, cocks his head to the side and studies something only he can see on the far side of the wall. His hand reaches out toward the worn bricks without touching them and when he speaks his voice sounds genuinely confused, "Against me."
Dean shifts slightly, watching the building, gun grasped tightly in his hand. He is on edge, tense, running on coffee and worry for his brother alone. He hasn't slept for three days, has eaten even less and is just this close to taking someone's head off. He wants nothing more than to go inside, get Sam, and get the hell out of there. And still the quiet words keep him back, send an uneasy feeling down his spine.
"You mean you as in no-angels-allowed-you? Demon magic?"
Castiel seems lost in thought for a moment, then looks up, shaking his head slightly. "No, this is personal, it is against me. They knew I would find this place."
Dean feels his insides twist in alarm. "They? You know who did this?"
The angel nods, takes a step back from the church. "Yes. We have to get Sam out of there and leave. Now."
As usual he doesn't offer any more information and, right now, Dean doesn't really care. He takes a deep breath and then moves cautiously toward the closed door, gun pointed at the handle. He starts moving to the corner to get to the side where there is a small window, but Castiel's urgent voice stops him.
"They are not here; we haven't much time, get him out."
There is no sound, no movement, the place seems completely deserted. Dean eyes his companion warily, then decides that he trusts Castiel to have his back and throws what's left of his caution to the wind.
The door isn't locked, opens easily when he pushes against it. It swings back, revealing wooden pews to either side of the aisle. Some of them are broken, others have been toppled over, only the first two rows seem still intact. A weird smell lingers in the air: a mixture of unfamiliar incenses and burnt candles and something he cannot identify. Light is streaming through the smashed window on the left, illuminating the wall on the opposite side. There is a picture right in the middle of that wall, but he doesn't really pay attention to it, is too busy scanning the room for movement or signs of danger.
What does catch his attention is the devil's trap painted on the floor right behind the door. It seems horribly out of place in this location and his gaze lingers on it, tracing the pattern thoughtfully for a moment. A trap for demons…
He is about to turn back to Castiel when he suddenly notices a huddled figure sitting in the second row, its back to him.
Sam is wearing the same shirt he wore on the day he disappeared, it is dirty, torn at the edges, but there is no blood anywhere, at least not that he can see. He doesn't move but Dean can see his back rising and falling slowly. Sam's head is bowed, strands of stringy, dusty hair falling over his face, hiding it. Dean starts moving toward him before he is even aware of it. When he gets closer he notices that his brother is actually kneeling in the pew, his folded hands resting on the back of the row in front of him. It seems like his body is leaning against the structure as if too weak to support himself, but still he is alive and Dean feels relief rushing through him like a tidal wave. He calls his brother's name while jogging down the aisle.
"Sam!"
Sam lifts his head slowly and blinks at him. His face is a few shades paler than Dean is comfortable with and dust and something else clings to it like a second skin. He seems to have trouble focusing on Dean, keeps blinking as if trying to clear his vision. The moment Dean sees his eyes he knows something is wrong, very wrong; they are red and puffy, lost. Sam doesn't meet his gaze for long, drops it almost as soon as their eyes meet, cutting him off.
"Dean?"
Sam's voice is hoarse, low. He sounds confused and surprised, looks behind Dean like he is waiting for someone else to show up. A puzzled frown creases his forehead when nothing happens. "How did you find me?"
This is not exactly what he expects to hear and Dean blinks, slows down to a walk. "I had some help along the way… you okay?"
Sam looks at him for a second, then turns his head to peer over his shoulder at the still open front door. "Castiel?"
He hasn't done a move yet to get to his feet and the apprehension Dean can hear in his voice makes him stop at the beginning of the row. He regards Sam with a questioning look.
"He's waiting outside… You wanna get out here or what?"
Sam hesitates—actually hesitates—for a second, then nods slowly. "Okay."
Dean has seen enough, his brother is obviously not okay, not thinking straight, they need to get out of there like yesterday. He watches him closely as Sam slowly (too slowly) pulls himself to his feet. Sam sways slightly for a moment and reaches out to steady himself against the wooden back of the seats. And Dean cannot keep his mouth shut any longer.
"You hurt anywhere, Sam?" He hopes his tone makes it clear that Sam only has to think the word and he will help him stand.
Apparently Sam wants none of that, he shakes his head and lifts a hand to brush some of the dirty strands of hair behind his ear to keep them from falling into his eyes.
"They didn't hurt…" He breaks off, drops his hand and takes a deep breath. "I'm okay, Dean." This time he meets Dean's questioning gaze for a moment, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Let's get out of here, huh?"
To be honest, Sam looks anything but okay or very excited about leaving this place, but at this point Dean is way beyond caring, he just wants out. He doesn't argue, only takes a step back to make room for him. Sam doesn't look at him as he gets out of the row, he sort of shuffles down the aisle. Dean watches him go, tries to remember when the last time was Sam had allowed him to help and is surprised at how long it takes him to answer that.
Sam keeps moving until he reaches the door and then stops so suddenly that Dean almost bumps into him.
"I—uhm, I can't, you—you have to…"
He doesn't finish the sentence, his voice no more than a whisper. A shaky hand points at the devil's trap on the floor.
Dean doesn't get it; he looks at the hand, frowns and moves around to Sam's front, trying to catch his eyes.
"Sam, what, you're not feeling okay?"
Sam's shoulders tremble slightly.
"You have to break the lines, I can't…"
Stunned, Dean looks down at the floor, at the symbols. What he has initially taken for a mere devil's trap turns out to be a variation, designed to trap a specific demon inside. A demon for God's sake, so what the hell…
"They—uhm, they designed it for me, they didn't want me to leave and they didn't want to have to stay all day…"
Although Sam tries to keep any emotion out of his voice Dean knows him well enough to hear the resignation hidden behind the too matter-of-fact tone. He cannot react for a while; his brain is frozen in a what-the-hell-loop that leaves him staring dumbly at the white chalk drawing on the floor.
Sam doesn't move, he keeps staring at the floor, offers no further explanation or any reaction at all. It takes Dean a moment to understand that his brother didn't paint the trap as protection against demons –or a demon–but that somebody–they– used a demon-trap to keep him inside the building. And apparently it seems to work. That's definitely a new one. And it brings back memories of a time he'd rather just forget and never talk about again.
Focus, he needs to focus, they need to get out of there.
Sam is still waiting silently next to him and Dean carefully avoids looking at him as he bends down and wipes some of the chalk away.
The moment he breaks the line Castiel appears in front of the open door.
"Hurry, we need to leave. Now."
Dean nods at him and turns back to his brother, reaching out to grab a hold of Sam's arm to tug him along. He freezes for a second when he finds Sam staring at Castiel with wide eyes. There is no mistaking the pained expression on his face, how he turns even paler and flinches back when the angel looks at him expectantly. Dean grabs Sam's sleeve before his brother can pull away completely and pulls him toward the exit. Whatever has happened between the two of them has to wait until they are safely back at Bobby's place.
Castiel is watching them with his usual non-readable expression and once Dean gets a stumbling, squinting Sam out of the church he feels a warm hand squeeze his shoulder tightly and the familiar feeling of reality shifting all around him envelopes his senses. The last thing he sees are Sam's tired eyes blinking slowly in the sunlight and then they are gone.
*** *** ***
It's been two days since they got his brother back and Dean is ready to climb the walls.
Sam is back. He is fine. Or so he says. Dean begs to differ, Sam is anything but fine. Oh yeah, he's there, with them, he is responsive, he seems to listen, he even tries to eat a little. And that's it.
Sam doesn't talk about what has happened to him, he doesn't do much of anything really. Most of the time he just sleeps. Or pretends to sleep when he notices Dean near the bedroom. It's not that he doesn't need all the rest he can get; he pretty much fainted after Castiel zapped them back to Bobby's place. And Dean gets that, he really does, being beamed around the globe can get a little on your stomach. He has had more than his fair share of how your world doesn't stop turning for hours after that and he doesn't blame his brother (much) for the girly groan a second before Sam's legs gave out.
No, he is perfectly…uhm…okay with Sam being as out of it as he is right now. After all, judging from the few details he managed to squeeze out of him while dragging his sorry ass to bed it seems like a miracle his brother had been coherent at all. Or able to stand on his feet. Or recognize them.
Problem is, if what he has told them is true Sam shouldn't be able to do anything at all.
Nine days.
His brother went without food or water for nine friggin' days. That is not humanly possible; dehydration sets in after four days, five at the latest. Sam certainly looks like they put him through the wringer on a daily basis, but he is not breathing his final breath and they didn't need to get him to the hospital. That's saying something, Dean just isn't sure what. Sam seems fine. Not at his best and definitely not fit enough to go on a hunt but he doesn't seem to be in any discomfort.
And still, his brother instincts set of an overwhelming alarm whenever he looks at Sam, but with the way things are between them lately he doesn't even know if he is imagining things.
His captors—angels, Sam was kidnapped by angels—didn't tell Sam why they took him, at least that's what Dean put together from the few things his brother told them. He knows "they didn't hurt me, don't worry, Dean," Sam was kept at the church for the entire time he was missing (he doesn't remember being in any other place), and that whatever they did to him is something Sam doesn't seem to be able to recover from.
Castiel hasn't been helpful either; he didn't even come back to Bobby's with them, simply dropped them in the living room via angel express and disappeared. Dean tries calling him at regular intervals but so far there's nothing.
Bobby tells him to leave Sam alone for a day or two, that maybe he just needs some time to adjust, to sort it out. And he has no problem with that, none at all. Sam can have his time off; he can stay in his room sleeping it off or do whatever he needs to do to get better.
As long as Sam is talking to them once he gets his head back in the game. Dean can and will wait for as long as he has to.
*** *** ***
Dean is still waiting when, only 24 hours later, Sam disappears again.
*** *** ***