Ok, so this is Book 1 of the Angel's by Blood series, so far, I only have three stories planned for it, though I could be like Eric Kripke and go for five. . . And sign Sam and Dean for a sixth one. ROFL! Anyway, hope you enjoy. I love fanfiction, its like constantly harbouring your talents while you try to find a life.
WARNING; Major Googling in this story, I know nothing about medicine or states and cities of America. . . ok, well I know a fair bit about America, I'll admit that. Plus, if I get any medical procedures wrong, tell me. I'm not aspiring to be a doctor, so if you are or used to be a doctor or nurse, then correct me where I'm wrong so I can learn and never make those mistakes again. Oh, and major drug, alcohol and tobacco use to come.
Yeah, I guess you can say I love dark stories, and I love writing them with everything dark my twisted mind can come up with.
Chapter 1
Sixteen year old Dean and eleven-year old Sam sat in the Impala. It had been Dean's for about a week now, and it was becoming increasingly impossible to pull him out if it. Sam didn't think that his brother could have been any more attached to it, though on his sixteenth birthday, he sure had been proven wrong. John sure didn't know what he had done by giving it to him in the first place. If it was allowed, Dean would have married the car ages ago.
Rock music blasted out of the speakers and Sam mused about the fact that Dean had to have been about five when the Mullet Rock era had began. Which meant that he was almost far to young to have gotten into it.
Then again, there was John to blame for that. He had been from that era, and had listened to it constantly, right up until the point where Dean started to get into it as well. Either that or it was just hero-worship he could get out of. Not that he would want to anyway.
They followed John's truck down the highway, the Impala positively purring as it soared across the black-tar road. Dean was loving this, he had dreamed from a young age, about being behind the wheel, calling the Impala his. Not John's. His. Now that it was happening, he could barely comprehend it.
Toledo, Ohio was pretty close by, just five minutes away. Dean didn't want it to come, but driving six hundred miles with no stops and a little brother who was too young to take over, really took its toll on him, and he just wanted to crash into a bed and sleep. No matter what creepy crawlies were running around inside the motel. He had gotten used to those, more then any teenager should have to.
"When are we getting to Toledo?" Sam asked for the upteenth time.
Dean smiled, his little brother had been asking him that for the past hour and now it wasn't bothering as much. "When you see a welcome sign, then we are there," he replied, in a better mood then he had been before, when Sam would ask non-stop.
He then knew why John had gotten a truck and gave his sixteen year old boy his Impala. . . to escape the whining of the youngest, who was told he would have to ride with Dean. Still, sometimes, it could prove to be a really great distraction from bordom's of driving. Though he did have a desire to stuff Sam's mouth and tie his hands up so he would never talk again, but that was an infrequent thought.
The, Welcome to Toledo sign flashed past and Sam started bouncing in his seat with agitation. It took all of his will not to start saying 'we're here!' over and over again. He already pushed his brother to the limit already and doing it again was not exactly on his list of things to do. He just wanted to get out of the damn car, he had been sitting inside it for far too long already. John could be so harsh, even when he wasn't in the same car as they were.
After another five minutes, John turned left off the highway and into the parking lot of a motel. Dean had to pause and wait for another few cars to go by, before turning in himself. Sam almost dived out of the car before he had put the vehicle in park. He had to admit, getting out of the car sounded good and it was good, giving his legs that much needed stretch.
"I'll get the room," John announced to his boy's. "You get the bags."
Of course, they had to haul the luggage, while their father does the easy job of running a fake credit card by the motel owner, in order to get a room. Sam bit back a complaint and helped Dean, which was the only reason why he didn't say anything.
"Here," Dean said, taking a bag of Sam because he already had enough. Sam would have protested, because Dean was carrying at least four bags already, but held back. He knew his brother wouldn't listen to him if he said anything against it. "Come on, lets go up."
It was then John stuck his head out and called "Second floor!" And disappeared again.
Sam was less content to keep his mouth shut, now. John didn't even offer to help them, no, they had it. Even though he was about to topple over from the weight of the bags, and Dean was struggling to get the Impala's boot shut, with his arms full of bags.
"Not a word," Dean advised, he knew that look. He really didn't feel like being a peacemaker between the two right now.
They made progress up to the second floor, looking for John, but all they found was an open door in the center of the corridor. That was John's way of telling them that they were staying in that room, rather then wait for them and tell him themself.
Sam took Dean's advice and kept quiet, he dumped the bags on the floor by the bed and his brother followed his actions, then promptly crashed on the bed and closed his eyes. Sam noticed the shadows under Dean's eyes.
John entered the room. "There is only two beds, I'm afraid. The both of you will have to share."
Dean sighed and scooched over, he was used to sharing a bed with Sam, though he had hoped he wouldn't have to this time. He was too tired to mind how or where he slept. Still, he wasn't the one to protest, especially not to his father. He'd just have to grin and bear it, with out the grinning part of that phrase.
Sam noticed his brother's unhappiness about that fact and felt far from upset about it. He would have felt the same, he wasn't exactly a still sleeper. He was normally all over the bed on some nights. He guessed Dean didn't want to be squished when he was trying to relax.
So he did what he thought was best; he stayed clear of the bed, allowing Dean to get some sleep before he joined him.
When Sam eventually got into bed, it was around midnight more or less. He was tired, and fell asleep almost instantly. Morning came before he knew what had happened and Dean was a little less grumpier then he had been the previous day. Maybe that meant he hadn't moved around too much.
John decided to go out for breakfast, coming back with coffee for him and Dean, juice for Sam who had asked for that, and some pancakes, eggs and bacon.
"Boys," he announced, drawing Sam and Dean's attention away from their food. "I'm going to go scope out the area, I want you guys to stay here alright?"
What surprised him, was that it was Dean opening his mouth to protest, rather then Sam. "Dad, why can't we come with you?"
"Because I said so, I won't even be gone more then three hours."
Dean closed his mouth, noticing the order behind his words. Sam wondered if he should put his two cents in, but the look on his father's face repelled him this time.
After breakfast, John left making sure Dean locked the door behind him.
Dean turned around and sighed, then crossed over to the window, pulled back the curtain just in time to see John's truck pull out of the parking lot. He turned back around to look at Sam. "Dude, lets blow this joint."
The look on Sam's face was priceless. "What?" He never thought Dean would be capable of unfollowing their father's orders. "You want to. . . leave? You want to leave?" No matter how many times he repeated it, he wouldn't - couldn't - believe it.
"Yeah, why not? We deserve some fun once in a while."
"But dad gave you an order."
Dean winked. "What the old man doesn't know can't hurt him right?" He grabbed his jacket, feeling truly alive for once in his life, because he was finally doing what he wanted to do. "Come on, I thought I saw a games arcade down the street."
Sam wondered how many times he would get to see this, and he was going to take the opportunity while it was there. He pulled on socks and shoes and grabbed his jacket. "Let's go."
Big brother had been right, there was an arcade down the street. It was crowded with kids, because it was a Saturday and there was twelve hours of the day left to kill . . . most people would have all those hours to spend in here; they'd have run out of money.
Dean handed Sam some coins and sent him off to play some games.
They eventually met up at a car racing game and decided it would be fun to verse each other. With Dean's driving experience, he was tough to beat. Sam wasn't much of an opponent, considering he was all over the road and kept crashing into everything until big brother told him to steady the wheel and ease at the turns, not jerk the wheel like he had been electrocuted.
Sam took the advice and they ended up playing again, and he crashed less and managed to keep up with his brother longer. Dean ended up winning again, but not by the margine of last time.
The ping ball machine pissed Dean off to no ends. Either the ball would stay up there for so long, he'd lose concentration. Or he wouldn't be quick enough to send it back up. He got told off for actually hitting the contraption. He claimed there had been no damage to the game, when there was a medium dent just out of eyeshot.
Sam dragged Dean onto the dance machine, where you had to follow the steps. Dean was so embarrassed when people started to look at him. When he noticed he was losing, he stopped fussing about that and allowed his competitive nature to take over and he ended up losing by a margine of ten points. A lot less than it would have been if he kept on worrying about what everyone else thought of him.
When they set off back to the motel, neither knew how long they had spent at the arcade. Not until they noticed John's truck parked in the parking lot.
"Crap," Dean hissed, berating himself for not realising the time sooner. He glanced at Sam, who had turned a pale green shade and he wondered if he looked much better. "Gotta face him sooner or later," he sighed.
When they got inside, Sam would have chosen later if they could. Way later.
John was pacing the room, looking more worried then either of his boy's had ever seen him to be. He looked up as they entered and his expression changed, now he looked downright scary.
"Where have you been?" He asked, his tone low and dangerous, and directed at his eldest.
Dean stuttered blindly for a few moments. "J-just down at. . . at the ar-arcade down-down the street." Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, ghouls and shapeshifters he could handle. The wrath of his father. . . Well, he just couldn't.
They could see John struggling not to snap. He was shaking and his hands were clenched, he was biting down on his lip so hard that it went white and drew blood. "I told you to stay inside!" His voice grew louder with every syllable until he was practically shouting. "What part of that didn't you understand?"
Now Sam realised why Dean never disobeyed their father. "N-nothing."
That, it appeared, was the wrong answer to give. Apparently, Dean should have acted like today was his defective day. John hit the roof, and he was still trying to stop himself from hitting his son.
"So you mean, you understood what I meant?" Dean nodded. "And you disobeyed an order?" Oh, God. Did he have to nod or shake his head to that? He stood there and said nothing and didn't move. "Fine, I guess you're staying here for the hunt."
Sam winced, that had to be like a nail through the heart for Dean. He remembered how excited he had been to come on this hunt for the shapeshifter, and now to be missing out. . . that was harsh. Really harsh.
"But dad -"
John glared him down. "If you disobey an order now, how can I trust you to do what I say later? No, I'm not going to risk it. You are staying here. End of discussion." He then crossed the room and pushed past his eldest, heading outside.
Dean's shoulders slumped and he dragged himself over to his bed and collapsed on it. His eyes were moist, but he wasn't going to cry. He wouldn't let himself. This was just one hunt, he'd earn back his father's trust and join him on the next one. It was no big deal. No big deal at all.
Oh, who was he kidding? Shapeshifters didn't come around all that often. There was a possibility that he would never get a chance to take one down again. He completely blew his opportunity. Because he wanted to go to a stupid arcade and have a little fun.
There was no way he was going to allow himself to put his own want's first again. John had trusted him to come and he just prove that he couldn't be trusted. He just let his father down and he wasn't sure if there was anything he could do about it.
John came storming back in, making his eldest flinch. Sam sleeked off into the bathroom and made himself presence as infrequent as possible.
"Dad, I'm sorry."
"I don't want to hear it Dean. You don't understand, I give orders for you to follow, to keep both you and your brother safe. I'm really disappointed in you Dean."
Disappointment was worse then anger, on so many levels. Dean gulped back a tough lump and kept his eyes from becoming wet again. He would not show weakness infront of John; his hero. He wouldn't allow himself.
John banged on the bathroom door and Sam scurried out and onto the bed with Dean, eager for once, not to get into a fight with his father.
The brother's didn't say a word to each other, Dean was so withdrawn, Sam didn't think he would ever speak.
Once John left, though, Sam decided to brave conversation. "How are you feeling?"
Dean looked over at his little brother incredulously. "I just missed out on a major hunt because of some stupid, aimless fun. So you tell me how I am feeling, Sam." He shook his head and propped his chin up on his hand. "It was stupid and I wish I hadn't done it."
"What, have fun?"
Their eyes met again. "Yes, Sam. Because now dad is facing a shapeshifter with no back-up. And I don't get to see a shapeshifter in real life, in person. The only ones I have ever seen have been on the t.v."
"Sometimes its good to have fun."
Dean shook his head, releasing a sigh. "Maybe for normal people, Sam. Not for us. Too many lives depend on us, there is no time for fun."
Sam felt the old anger toward John rekindle. It was obvious how warped Dean's brain was, if he thought fun was out of the equation in his life. Everyone needed a little fun - heck, John sought fun from the bottom of a beer bottle and Sam had been allowed to live ten years without knowing about the dark side of the world.
Dean? Well, Dean hadn't had or been allowed to have fun since he was four.
Everyone else in the family had had fun in their lives, except for him. The only time was before their mother died and he was actually allowed to be childish and innocent. It was a right that John evilly ripped away from him. Evil might be a strong word, but it was the only word Sam could find to describe John's actions.
"Let it go, Sam. Sometimes I don't mind, really," Dean insisted, trying desperately to stop his brother's tirade. Sooner all later that was going to land them both in hot water, and he was in enough trouble already.
Lies. Sam had the ability to see right through the lies his brother told. He did mind, he did care and he wanted the right to let loose and be the kid that he was. He wasn't an adult yet. So he shouldn't be treated like one all the time.
"Yeah, right Dean."
With a sigh, Dean shrugged. "Believe what you want. I'm used to it, so naturally I don't mind."
"That's my point, man! Dad hasn't given you any right to be wild, and that's not ok! He shouldn't dump his issues and problems on you, especially not when you were four. You didn't deserve it, and you don't now!"
"I asked for it," Dean lied.
"Bull!" Dean made a memo to stop swearing around him. "How could you ask for so much responsibility, when you probably didn't even know what the word meant at the time?" he demanded, balling his fists up in anger. "Dad had absolutely no right!"
"He's our dad, Sam. He has the right."
"Not to do that, he doesn't."
Where the hell did Sam get his arguments from? It seemed no matter what the situation, he always had an opinion ready. Especially when it was during an argument with John. He was very opinionated and brutally honest. Sam could very well be a lawyer if they had grown up in a different lifestyle then what they did now.
"I don't mind, Sam. Neither should you."
Sam smirked. "But I will mind it. I'll say something to him."
Dean's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't even think about it. You might ruin my chances of being present for the next hunt."
"Its just hunting Dean, its not like you don't know anything else." The way Dean blushed and looked down at the ground was enough. "Oh, God. It is all you know, isn't it? See what I mean! He's given you nothing except a world of pain and oblivion. There is a normal life out there for you!"
"The difference between you and me, is that I knew mom, and that I still remember her. I want revenge, almost as much as dad does, so don't you dare start any bullshit. Get your facts straight first."
It was Sam's turn to look down. "Its wrong."
"Its life. We don't get a say."
"Well we should." Sam pouted and made him look more like a little child then ever before. Dean had to grin, but he wouldn't point that fact out, despite the cuteness of the boy, he literally had a bite worse then his bark.
"I know, but we just don't, ok? So drop it. Come on, lets play cards or something."
They pulled out a deck of cards and played various games; snap, go fish and then concentration. When that got boring, they started play-wrestling, Dean showing Sam various defensive and all-fensive moves. Of course, for demonstration, he kicked his little brother's ass to show him. Sam called break, which lasted for an hour and television became their source of entertainment.
But there was something to say about Happy Day's being 'entertaining'. Dean thought he would have either died or fallen asleep. This was so not his style of television shows. It was only because of Sam's constant nudging that he didn't do any of those things. The Simpson's replaced that show on the end credits and he perked up, more interested then he had been before.
A knock on the door interrupted their peace about three hours later. Dean glanced at Sam and wordlessly ordered him to stay put, which he did. Peeking through the eye-hole in the door, he was met by two police officers.
Shit, he thought, what did dad do now?
He opened the door. "Can I help you?"
The taller of the two smiled sadly, both officers had their hats in their arms, and Dean was starting to remember shows where they would do that, right before they would inform the person of the death of a loved one. God he hoped now that that wasn't the case, that maybe it was just too hot to wear them.
"Are you Dean Winchester?" he asked, surprising the middle Winchester, how the hell did they know his name?
"Yes, I am."
He fidgeted a little. "We're sorry to have to tell you this, but your father was found dead in an old mine a few miles west from here."
It took Dean a long time to process that, and when he did, he let out a strangled cry and dropped to his knees. Sam was beside him in an instant, pulling his brother into a hug, when he asked the officers what was wrong and got the news, he began to cry just like Dean was.
The officers bid them a sorry goodbye and left, leaving the two brothers huddled in the doorway, clutching each other and crying their eyes out.
The great John Winchester, hunter, friend and father was dead.
Already, the world seemed to be a bit less bright.
To Be Continued. . .
How was that? I bet John fans (if there are any) are all going NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO by this point. If I get any reviews like that, I'm going to freakin' die with laughter. Honestly, in my head, it would sound like you were pushed off a cliff and screaming in slow motion, haha.
Now I am going to refer Dean as the eldest Winchester, if you don't mind. Haha. Just giving you heads up.
Lots of homicide, suicide, hurt, pain, torture, love, fury, passion and energy to come, so I hope you stick around for the ride. You don't know what you'd be missing out on if you don't.
Review please!
