How Long Ago Did It Happen?

Disclaimer: No money has passed hands; only naughty thoughts have passed in imagination.

Author's Note: This is the first time I have written a reply to a challenge so it will be both an adventure and good fun. MysteryMadchen posted this challenge on the CWESS and it was too good to pass up. So this story is dedicated to MysteryMadchen for her wonderful reviews to my stories and for posting this fantastic challenge/prompt.

Challenge/Prompt: Blind Sam story, either of him as a teenager or an adult where the blindness is John's fault. It could be him accidentally hurting Sam, somebody seeking revenge, or as a result of John's lack of attention to his son. Multi-chapter. Involving at least Sam, Dean, John and of course Bobby!!

S—D

CHAPTER TWO

PREVIOUSLY ...

His brother, tall and wiry suffering through a late growth spurt with his awkward balance and clumsiness looked small and frail in the hospital bed surrounded by all of the medical paraphernalia.

'He's going to be alright Dean.' John said quietly from behind him, startling the twenty-year old.

Spinning around Dean glared at his father and for a brief, second John actually felt a flutter of fear pass through him. 'Take a good look dad – take a good look at your handiwork. Sam's blind I really hope that you're proud of yourself.'

S—D

NOW...

November 2nd 1984

Sioux City, South Dakota

The truck glided down the streets of Sioux City like a panther stalking its prey expertly through the jungle: sleek, black and lethal. The rumble of another engine caused the driver to slow and scan the area, his patience rewarded when he saw the classic black car approaching the intersection, a cold mirthless laugh filled the interior of the truck, as the engine revved and he swerved out of the lane he was in and aimed himself directly for the black impala, the voice demanding in his mind. Kill, destroy the devil spawn now seated in the vehicle opposite, his place in heaven would be cemented for his sacrifice. He would gladly give his life to rid the world of the anti-Christ. Pushing his foot down on the accelerator he aimed his truck at the prey and pounced.

His prey, swerved and the hunt was on, until he heard a baby's cry coming from the car now slamming into the pole, shards of glass spraying the area; his head snapped up and he blinked furiously with shaking hands he wrenched the steering wheel and forced the truck away from the killing strike. Flooring the accelerator once again, he sped away from the scene, the sounds of the baby's heart-wrenching cries echoing in his ears. A sound he would never forget.

S—D

May 25th 1999

Gautier, Mississippi

'Sam are you paying attention?' John demanded of his youngest son for the second time.

'Yes Sir.' Sam mumbled, he took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes tiredly, 'that's all of the research right there Sir.'

'You okay Sammy?' Dean asked his voice heavy with concern as he watched Sam rub at his eyes and the pain lines appearing around them. 'Headache?'

'Yeah a little,' Sam sighed and then glanced at the look of impatience on his father's face, 'but I'll be okay.'

'So the father was the one who killed his family?' John persisted in questioning Sam, he knew that his youngest was struggling with yet another headache but this spirit was killing people and that had to come first.

Sam replaced his glasses, waited for the dizziness to subside slightly and then continued his with the report on his research. 'Yeah, he ah ... he lost his job and had no way to support his large family. They were all staying in the motel when he flipped one night and slaughtered his family including all five of his children. The clerk on the desk reportedly claimed that the wife had told him of their plans to buy a house and move to the coast, that they were all happy and looking forward to their new life. Other reports say that he lost control on the way back to the motel and ran his truck off the road, he wasn't hurt but the truck wasn't moving anywhere. He got out and walked the highway with rain pouring down and a storm growing he couldn't face his wife and kids with no job and more importantly no bonus for the deposit for their new house. Witnesses reported that he walked along the highway screaming 'Why did this happen to me?', also 'why is it every time I feel like I had what I wanted it's taken from me. They also said that he staggered and punched at the rain, as though he was arguing with some invisible force, and a look of madness twisted his features. Co-workers told the authorities that he could be seen to be talking to someone when there was no one there, that he had secret voices told him what to do. A friend once walked into a room where he was having a deep and angry conversation with no one. He finally got back to the motel and acted like nothing had changed, he explained that the truck got a flat and he walked back to the motel. The clerk reported that the wife rang him and asked for the number of a tow truck and extra towels. Apparently, something happened after ten that night, after the family went to bed for the night, that he was pretending to sleep and listened to the voices in his head telling him to get dressed and to come with them to see what they had for him to make things change. That's what he told the clerk anyway when he bumped into him as he wandered around in the rain. At three in the morning he returned to his motel room and mutilated his family in the beds, killing them one by one as they slept, including the baby, the last sound he heard was that of his baby crying before he killed him. He then went banging on the other motel room doors sobbing loudly with the axe still in his hand, 'Sam paused and looked up at his dad his luminous green eyes shining with sympathy for the family, 'thankfully no one answered their doors and instead rang the police. He ran out onto the highway, according to eyewitnesses, started to scream and swing the axe wildly at an unseen tormentor where he was struck and killed by a truck, ironically enough the truck was from the shipyard he was fired from earlier. The motel is reported to be haunted but it's the stretch of highway in front of it that is the biggest problem. He is seen waving his axe wildly on the night of the anniversary of his family's deaths and causing the deaths of families travelling along that stretch, all are reported to have axe like cuts covering their bodies. The driver thinks that they've hit someone gets out of the car to investigate and then is killed along with everyone else in the car.' Sam stopped speaking and rubbed his temples as his headache started to take hold.

'So a psycho ghost then?' Dean interjected hating the paleness of his brother's face and the way his father continued to drill him, 'we go to the cemetery and salt and burn the sucker and all over. So Sammy can stay here and rest and we'll go do the burn.'

'No, you can handle the burn on your own Dean Sam will be coming with me.' John declared his steely gaze fixed on his eldest's face, determined not to be undermined by Dean or anyone else.

'What for? It's a simple salt and burn why complicate it?'

'One do not take that tone of voice with me boy and the second we need to make sure we have him so we draw him out on the highway, I'll draw the spirit out but I need Sam to back me up.'

'Why? It is a simple salt and burn Dad, you don't need Sam as backup.'

'Sam is coming and that is it Dean, never question my decisions last I knew I was still the father in this family!' John declared pushing himself away from the table he stood and towered over his two sons, 'Sam get some pain killers into ya and get ready to go, dean make sure that we have enough ammunition in the truck as well as the impala.'

'We know what to do dad.' Dean mumbled still smiting after John's declaration of parentage, he may not be father to Sam he was still his brother and protector damn it.

'Thanks dean,' Sam whispered touching his brother's arm lightly, 'you tried.'

'You sure that you're okay Sammy?' Dean crouched down next to the sixteen-year-old's chair and looked at his brother, carefully taking in the drawn, pinched features and bloodshot eyes behind the plain framed glasses.

'Just need some Tylenol and I'll be good to go.' Sam tried to sound a little upbeat for the sake of his brother, but his head pounded unmercifully and his sight blurred. 'Just tired ya know Dean.'

'Yeah I know Squirt so why don'cha go and get cleaned up and take these,' Dean handed the ever-ready painkillers to Sam; 'I'll go and do what's needed to make the old man happy.'

'Dean...'

'I just ... it'll be fine Sammy, I'll salt and burn the sucker before anything happens.'

'Yeah I know you will.' Sam smiled softly his green eyes filling with admiration for his brother and his hero, 'you always do.'

'Aww shucks Sammy,' Dean started to pretend to be all embarrassed when John reappeared in the kitchen.

'If you two are quite finished we have work to do.' John growled, 'and that means now Sam, I want you in the truck in five minutes.'

'Dad ...'

'Now Dean!' John felt his anger building, his own tension headache starting to brew. Since hitting their teens both of his boys had started to try to assert their independence and to question his orders, though Dean always acquiesced to his father's demands where Sam often continued to argue and sulk, it was starting to grind on his nerves and wear him down in a way he never thought possible. 'Well?'

'Yes Sir.' Dean muttered gave Sam a conspiratory wink and went to check their ammunitions.

'Samuel.'

'Yes dad?'

'Take your meds and get out in the truck.'

'Yes Sir.'

S—D

John pulled the truck up just opposite the now condemned motel and cut the engine; he glanced over at Sam and winced with the twinge of guilt pulsating through him. Sam appeared pale and shaky and John had the good grace to second guess himself bringing his youngest with him, but then the street lights started to flicker and the air colder than normal settled around him, John soon forgot his son's predicament and focused once more on the hunt.

'Alright Sam I want you to stay alert and keep an eye out for Hal, I'll...' John was unable to finish his sentence when a hand gripped his throat tightly and he found himself pulled out of the truck, flailing wildly his hand tried to grip the steering wheel but the entity was too strong and he was soon free of the vehicle.

Sam shoved his door open as soon as he saw his father disappear out the other side of the truck. 'Dad.' He called out as he pulled his salt gun up and took aim, slowly he moved around the back of the big black truck, his aim steady though his sight kept blurring and his head thumped without mercy the Tylenol this time didn't even touch the edges of his headache. 'Dad?'

Coming to a stop Sam peered carefully around the rear of the truck and saw his father struggling with an invisible adversary, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes Sam took aim and readied himself before firing at the supernatural entity attacking his father.

Horrified Sam faltered for a brief second when the salt rounds did nothing to dispel the spirit, his hands shaking he raised his gun again when his father's back arched and a primal scream erupted from him before slumping back to the ground. 'Dad, Dad you okay?' Sam ran to his father's side and started to check him for any injuries, but aside from some bruising around his neck and a vivid bruise forming on his cheek, John seemed fine. With a groan he opened his eyes and stared up at the young boy's face floating above him. 'You're supposed to be dead.' The injured father snarled pushing at his son hard enough to make him stumble backwards.

'Dad ... what's wrong?' Sam whimpered the harsh shoving and stumbling made his head feel like it was exploding. 'Dad?'

'You're dead!' John roared his eyes flashing a dark blood red, 'you're all dead.'

'You ... what have you done to my dad?' Sam cried out as he scrambled to reach for his fallen gun.

'Nothing, just got the perfect suit to do some playing.' The smirk changed John's features dramatically and Sam found himself staring at a stranger's face.

'Sorry Dad.' He muttered as he took aim and shot at his father's chest with his salt gun, the short range made the impact even more painful than normal but it was enough to enrage the spirit in Sam's father, without another word he flew at the teen, who was unable to get his gun in position in time; John tried to pull back but the entity inside of him was so strong. The bloodlust was calling him, thrumming through his body and he could taste the power within him.

S—D

Dean heaved the shovel one last time and finally opened the grave, the two coffins interred in the left of the crypt bore name plaques and with his luck running as good as ever Dean had to shift the coffin containing the man's wife, he shook his head sadly in the fact that the bastard that killed his family including a tiny baby, was still buried with them, albeit beneath his wife but still with her.

Unable to contain his anger any longer Dean hoisted the coffin with a roar, finding it easier than he imagined it to be. Breaking into the plain pine box beneath hers, he stared dispassionately at the rotting corpse for a few seconds before scattering the salt and gasoline over it. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a bundle of matches tumbling towards the corpse of the maniac.

'Rot in hell you bastard.' He gritted out through his clenched teeth, and then sent a silent thought out to his father and more importantly to his baby brother; he inadvertently prayed for Sammy though if tortured Dean would never admit to it.

S—D

John felt the pull and immediately recognised what was happening, Dean was able to do the salt and burn, with a snarl he stared down at the snivelling boy at his feet and then threw his head back dropping to his knees as the spirit was forcibly pulled out of his body, leaving behind the blood lust and intense anger.

'Dad?' Sam whispered blinking blindly as he tried to find his glasses, 'dad you with me?'

'What's a matta?' John threw the words at his youngest, 'you lose something?'

'D-Dad?' Sam tried to clear his vision but his headache kept spiking relentlessly, the pressure behind his eyes was ready to explode.

'Stop whining dammit, suck it up.' John rushed at Sam and grabbed him by the neck of his hoodie and pulled him upwards, the crushing of glass and wire under the bigger man's foot made Sam slump a little, so much for seeing anything.

'Dad please.'

'I said shut the fucking whining up.' John pulled his fist back and hit the left side of Sam's face splitting the skin on his cheekbone.

The rumble of a very familiar engine did nothing to stop him from pulling back his fist ready to strike again, 'pathetic little shit, you use your blindness as a weakness, shoulda dumped ya when I had the chance.' Spittle sprayed over Sam's face as John's rampage continued, shaking with fear and pain Sam could do nothing but pray that Dean would come for him.

'What the ... let him go now John.' Dean bellowed, his heart sinking when he got out of the car and ran towards his little ragtag family, when the shock set in and he came to a skidding halt, bile burnt his throat as he took in his father's fist, cocked and ready to strike. He took in the bruising and cuts on Sam's face and the fact that his brother was barely conscious. He took in the sight of Sam's glasses smashed beyond repair on the asphalt. But most of all he took in the look of pure rage on his father's face. 'Let ... Sam ... go ... now!'

'This is between me and your brother, it has nothing to do with you Dean so just get back in the car and let me finish this.' John said so calmly, it sent chills down Dean's spine.

'Sammy? Sammy you with me kiddo?' Dean asked stepping slightly closer to them, his worry spiking when he was met with silence, this was so not good. 'Dad, hey dad I smoked the bastard it's all over.'

'Is it Dean?' John blinked and glanced at his eldest but then he snarled and turned back to his other child, 'it's over when I finish teaching your brother how to be a backup, I coulda been killed before he got his lazy ass going.' Before Dean could move John struck one last devastating punch, landing squarely on Sam's left eye, the teen's head snapping back as blood poured from his nose and a cut on his forehead as his father dragged his marine's ring over the tender skin.

'No!' Dean yelled and without hesitation pulled back his own fist and king-hit his own father, with enough force to send him flailing backwards, losing his grip on Sam's hoodie in the process.

Recovering enough Dean managed to grab his brother and allow him to land on his chest, 'Sammy?' The sob was wrenched from deep within Dean as he cradled his brother's limp form close to him, 'Sam!'

'D-Dean?' John grunted, shaking his head he stared around disorientated and feeling more than sick, he could literally taste blood in his mouth. 'Wh-what happened?'

'You stay away from him.' Dean growled, 'how could you dad?'

'How could I what? You're not making any ... Sammy?'

'You happy now dad? If he makes it he'll probably be completely blind.' Dean refused to accept the look of shock and remorse settling on his father's face, he didn't want excuses or platitudes he just wanted his brother to be alright.

'I-I didn't ... oh God.' John paled even more when he realised the impact of what Dean had just said, he had hit his son, his baby, the one who could not sustain any type of injury to his head and he had done just that.

Dean pulled his cell out and called for an ambulance not willing to move Sam's head anymore than necessary. 'It's okay Sam helps on the way you just hang in there buddy.'

'Dean please listen to me ... it was not me, that thing got inside of me I couldn't help it.'

'Couldn't help what dad? That thing was out of you when I got here, I smoked it so how can you say that?'

'I – I can't explain it, it left something inside of me ... like, like a bloodlust.'

'Maybe it just found a kindred spirit huh dad?' Dean looked down at his brother who lay so still on his lap. 'Dammit dad.'

John rested his aching head against the side of his truck and remained silent for now, he knew he had to wait for his eldest to calm down and then he will explain what happened. Dean would see sense and Sam would forgive him.

A flurry of flashing lights, sirens and impatient orders blurred altogether for Dean, his sole attention was fixed on his waxen faced brother. Gently moved aside by a paramedic they worked with a sense of immediacy, barking questions at Dean and John when needed and only then. By the time they had Sam loaded on to a gurney and into the back of the ambulance, they had checked out Dean and John, with the elder Winchester refusing medical aid for his own superficial injuries.

Dean stood stock still and watched as the ambulance whisked his brother away, and then without another look at his father, he ran to the impala, leaving John to deal with the police questioning and story-making, his one and only thought was to be with his brother as soon as possible.

'We are so screwed Sammy.' He muttered to the empty passenger seat.

TBC

Author's Note: So now we have the back-story, the next chapter will be about Sam coping with his latest problems and the fact that his father was inadvertently the one who caused them. With Dean firing on all cylinders so to speak it's gonna be an interesting ride from now on.