O.o Wow! Thanks for the response guys! I'm glad everyone seems to like this story, I certainly do! Well, here's the next chapter! Please review! :)
The real action doesn't start till at least next chapter, but here's a little bit to start us off...
By the way, Sam is about 17 in this chapter. We've skipped a few years. :)
Sam walked down the street, mind racing through all the things he had learned in school. After years of struggle, he had managed to get to his senior year and with all good grades. He hoped to be able to go to college with those grades. He hadn't even mentioned this to his family.
Not like they'd really miss me anyway. My dad would just miss the soldier he created. Ha.
His dad was never pleased with him. It didn't matter how hard he tried, it didn't matter what he gave up or what he sacrificed. He was never enough.
The only thing he kept from his father and out of his painful attempts to please the man was his...abilities. It was a line he wouldn't...couldn't cross.
Yeah, 'cause he wouldn't do more than lecture me about keeping things from him then shoot me between the eyes point blank. Dean would just follow dad around like a puppy waiting to please his master, not caring who got hurt in the process as long as the almighty 'father' was pleased.
Sam snorted. Wow. I'm just slightly bitter, aren't I?
Shaking the dark thoughts from his head, Sam continued on his way to the motel from school with a sigh.
That's when he heard the scream.
"Leave me alone!"
He looked around, spotting the source of the scream almost immediately. A young woman, back pressed up against a wall, was trying to fend off three guys, casually standing around her, all staring at her like she was a slab of meat they just couldn't wait to get ahold of.
Sam was moving before his mind had fully understood what he was doing and what he was facing.
His mind smoothly registered the necessary need-to-knows.
Outnumbered.
Civilian to keep track of.
No weapons visible.
No visible obstacles in terrain.
Crap. This is not what I wanted to do today.
They were all looking at him now, clearly wondering what he wanted, the girl looking a bit desperate for help.
"I believe she asked you to leave her alone." Sam had always been one to talk first, swing later.
The three guys looked him up and down, clearly trying to decide if he was a threat. "What's it to you?" one of them finally asked.
Sam shrugged. "I just don't take kindly to guys who think picking on girls is a form of entertainment."
"Well, how about you just go back to your business buddy, cause this ain't it."
Sam sighed. "I think it is."
The guys began to shift at that, moving their full attention to him as opposed to the girl. Sam changed his stance just a little, tensing, getting ready for a fight.
A quick glance at the girl, a jerk of his head, and she was running off, not looking back. He didn't blame her.
The guy in front wore a wife-beater that hung too loosely on him, his expression one of disgust and annoyance. His buddy on his right wore his pants nearly down to his ankles, never a look that Sam appreciated or thought was practical (he couldn't ignore everything his father taught and believe it or not, they did agree on some things), and had a blank look on his face that Sam couldn't help but find slightly amusing. The last guy, on the disgusted guy's left, had a large scar on his left cheek and Sam silently labeled him the most dangerous. Something about the look in his eyes set Sam on edge and warned him that he was not one to be underestimated.
Disgusted guy moved first, swinging wide at Sam's face. Sam ducked, bringing a knee up into the guy's abdomen. He doubled over, gasping and swearing.
The pants guy was there a second later, trying to copy Sam's move. Muscle and no brains. Crossed Sam's mind before he just side-stepped out of the guy's way, bashing an arm into the scrambling kid's back so he fell to the ground, face first. Sam didn't hear the crunch, but he was pretty sure the kid's nose was broken.
Sam brought an arm up to block a wide swing from scar-dude and had to wince at the power behind the swing. Yeah, definitely the most dangerous.
On his left, the disgusted guy was coming at him again. Sweeping a leg out, Sam had him on the ground a second later. Moron.
To his surprise, the pants guy was up faster than he had expected, blood pouring from his nose, but his face twisted in anger.
The scar-dude was still moving, Sam struggling to keep him from coming too close with one arm, while preparing to deal with pants guy with the other.
His split attention cost him.
Scar-dude got a good punch in, knocking Sam back a few steps as blood poured from his now split lip.
Pants-guy came at him and Sam huffed in annoyance. With a sudden viscous grin, Sam reached out with his telekinesis and yanked the boy's pants down. The kid stumbled, trying to keep his balance and Sam smashed a hand into his chest, cracking several ribs and knocking the guy backward.
He didn't get back up.
Sam didn't have time to revel in his victory. Scar-dude and disgusted guy were coming at him again, from different sides. Sam was ready for this to be over.
Moving quickly, Sam slammed bodily into disgusted-guy, knowing his full weight and size (greater than that of his opponent) would send the guy flying.
Disgusted guy slammed into the wall, bashing his head against the brick and collapsed.
Two down, one to go.
A flash of metal in Sam's peripheral vision was the only thing that saved him.
Scar-dude had pulled a knife from who-knew-where and it was inches from his face when Sam noticed it.
His reaction was instinctual.
He grabbed the knife with his telekinesis, stopping it in it's track.
The scar-dude finally looked surprised, struggling against the hold on the knife. He couldn't move it. He let go, but still it hung there. He stared in shock at it and Sam used the distraction to his advantage, coming around with a full round-house punch and knocking the guy flat.
The knife clattered to the ground and Sam stepped over the various bodies, heading once more towards their motel, with a quick glance around to be sure that no one had noticed his seemingly impossible feats during the fight.
...
The walk to the motel felt longer than ever to a now sore Sam. His lip was still bleeding, but the damage wasn't too bad. It could have been a lot worse.
My powers are barely controlable.
Any burst of adrenaline and they were aching to be released, fighting against the fierce control he held over them.
He was fairly sure it wouldn't be this bad if he could use them more often without worrying about his father putting a bullet into him.
Like last week's hunt. I darn near killed myself trying to keep them in check and remain focused enough to watch dad and Dean's back while we were fighting that stupid Wendigo.
It certainly didn't help that he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in over a week.
Darn nightmares are back.
The nightmares weighed the most heavily on the teen's mind. Because they came true.
I just have to see if I can lead dad subtly towards those hunts so we can save the lives of those poor people...
Sam shuddered at the vivid memories. He never forgot them. Ever.
That was one ability he could certainly live without: his memory. See something once and it was burned forever into some part of his mind, never to be forgotten.
Some things were meant to be forgotten.
Sam stretched a little. And then of course, there's the transformation last night. Didn't get any sleep last night.
He found he could hold back the wolf side of him for about a week before he needed to transform. When he had literally growled at his father the day before, he knew he had waited too long. The wolf side of his personality got harder to control the longer he went without transforming.
It was getting harder to find secluded places to transform.
He really didn't want his screams to be overheard. He hated doing it alone, but he couldn't say he wasn't used to it.
He'd been alone for a long time, no matter what the angel had said.
...
"Sam! What the heck happened to you? Crap, that looks awful." Dean cringed at the sight of Sam's bloodied lip and chin.
Sam snorted. "You should see the other guys."
"What did you get yourself into now?" John asked.
Sam barely restrained an eye roll. "Nothing, dad. Just some losers that decided picking on a girl is fun. We got into a slight disagreement."
John gave him a piercing look, then turned back to his readings.
Sam sighed.
Dean pulled him into the bathroom and handed him a rag, checked his lip, decided it wasn't too bad, and went back to cleaning the weapons.
John was murmuring under his breath, trying to remember some vague Latin phrase to an exorcism he was trying to learn.
Sam remembered the phrase in a flash, he had read it once in some Latin dictionary or something, and was speaking before he could stop himself, smoothly streaming out the Latin phrase John was looking for.
John and Dean both stared at him and Sam cursed himself internally.
He just raised his eyebrows at them, then shrugged as if dismissing them. "What? I do study, you know!" Sam sighed. "I'm gonna go for a run." He dropped his backpack on the floor and headed for the door again.
Crap. That was freakin' close. I need to be more careful.