Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

Warning: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Then:

Spittle sprayed across Caleb's face as his captor leant in close; stroking a cold, clammy finger down his cheek, 'where are the Winchester brothers?' It demanded again striking the hunter's face viciously, 'talk hunter or die.'

'Can't tell ya what I don't know … and I don't know any Winchester brothers.' Caleb said as he met the black eyes with a steady stare, 'kill me or not aint gonna make any difference.'

Now:

S—D

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

(Julius Caesar 1.3.93)

Chapter Four:

Dean sat up and stared around trying to work out what had woken him in the first place. The parsonage was so quiet it was unnerving; the only discernable sounds Dean could make out were the occasional creaking of the aged house itself or the wind moving through the trees nearest the windows. As he concentrated a little more he could hear movement coming from the other bedroom and he knew instinctively that Pastor Jim was starting to move around so it must be close to dawn and then he realised what had woken him: he couldn't hear Sam. 'Sammy?' He whispered as loudly as he dared without causing panic, 'Sammy dude you awake?'

Sliding his feet out of the warmth from his bed, Dean cringed slightly when his toes hit the cold floor boards but his concern for his brother soon outweighed his own discomfort and he reached for the bedside lamp as he finished climbing out from under his blankets. 'Sammy this had better be worth it.' He muttered as he glared down at the empty bed next to his.

Taking an extra second to pull on his warm socks Dean crept out of the bedroom and started to do a quick but thorough search of the house, taking care not to disturb Jim.

Standing in the kitchen Dean was ready to call an all out alert and panic attack when he noticed a flickering light through the window. Moving in an almost trancelike sluggishness he stood by the kitchen sink and stared out of the window; in the pre-dawn dark he could see the outlines of several of the buildings on the property including one in particular. 'Ah Sam.' He said as he realised where his errant little brother had disappeared to; shaking his head Dean checked his gun and ammo before pulling on his boots and a heavy outdoor coat on his way out. Making sure that he had another coat for Sam knowing so well that his brother wouldn't have thought of something as menial as his own comfort and warmth.

The yard from the parsonage to the church was normally a warm and welcoming place where the Winchester brothers had always had a small feeling of home and safety as they grew up but in the dark, with long black shadows and the wind whispering through the trees and buildings it gave a more sinister and threatening feel to it.

As quietly as he could Dean pulled the heavy oak door open and stepped into the small, ornate church. The massive stained glass window above the altar cast a rainbow of colours in the pre-dawn light. Dean walked slowly down the central aisle, as his eyes became used to the softer light he fixed his gaze firmly on his brother. Sam sat on the first pew; the early morning sunlight filtering through the stained glass bathed him with a golden halo and gave him an angelic appearance.

Dean cleared his throat slightly as he took a seat next to Sam and placed a gentle hand on his arm, 'hey kiddo whatcha doing?'

'Just thinking,' Sam replied quietly he glanced up when he felt his brother's presence and then let his gaze drop to his hands on his knees once again. 'Sorry I didn't want to wake you.'

'How long have you been here Sammy?'

'Dunno a few hours I guess.' Sam replied as he chanced another quick glance at his brother's face to gauge his reaction.

'A few … okay why?' Dean tried to stay calm as he watched Sam carefully, there was something unintelligible about the way Sam was acting and it was starting to fray on Dean's nerves.

'I needed to think and didn't want to wake you or Pastor Jim up.'

'Bang up job you did there kiddo, I woke when I couldn't hear your snoring.'

'Don't snore.'

'Ah yep you do,' Dean said with a small grin, 'here put this on before you catch you death.' He passed the coat to Sam and watched his sibling carefully while he put it on, ever vigilant for signs of injury or pain. 'So what were ya thinking of?'

'Dad,' Sam said as he wrapped the large think coat around his thin frame, 'do you think that dad will…?'

'Will what Sam?' Dean studied his brother's pale face, his worry ramping up when he saw the tears forming in Sam's luminous green eyes. 'Sammy what is it?'

'Do you think that dad will ever forgive me?' Sam whispered before shaking his head and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, 'sorry I'm tired, come on before Pastor Jim thinks that you've finally seen the light.'

S—D

A sleek mass of black metal and silver chrome glided through the night, with barely any traffic to take it on it had the roadways to itself and time ticked faster than the miles on the speedometer. The driver chugged back whiskey laced black coffee from a thermos and kept a dangerously focussed stare on the road ahead. On an odd occasion he glanced over at the countryside as it blurred past but for the most part he kept his focus on the road. His mind was another thing though; thoughts raced through his mind and collided with his memories and emotions giving him an almighty headache.

He could still feel the soft throat under his hands, how easy it was to squeeze the life from, how easy it was to dismiss the owner of the said throat. Taking another gulp of the coffee mix he roared with impotent frustration and took a bend too fast. With lightning fast reflexes he managed to tame the beast he drove and righted it before pulling off to the side and scrambling out of the cab. With his temper raging through him he took it out on a hapless tree, punch after punch until blood sprayed from the wrecked knuckles and bones ground together. Panting heavily, he looked up at the star filled sky and tried to imagine another time, a more peaceful loving time with a young couple and their two baby boys. 'Dammit, why my boys? Why my baby?' he roared, 'what the hell did I do to deserve this?'

With no answer coming he lurched towards the driver's side door, starting the beast up again he drove off with a cloud of dust and stones behind him; his destination once again fixed firmly in his mind, his shoulders set he had to get this done the only way he knew how.

S—D

Dean instinctively moved in front of Sam when they heard the sound of an engine roaring up the road towards the parsonage. Frowning Dean grabbed Sam's arm and tried to hurry his brother towards the house and relative safety. The dawn's light had finally broken over the church and outbuildings giving the yard a safer but still barren feel to it. The sound of the car getting closer set Dean's demon hackles to rise and he instinctively pulled his gun releasing the safety as he moved.

Sam stumbled slightly in the brighter light he felt off balance and displaced but he remained silent while trailing after his older brother. The sense of urgency radiating from Dean was the first indicator for Sam to focus more on what was happening, the sound of the engine and the change in atmosphere was all he needed to completely respond, by rote but it was the exact response needed by a well trained soldier.

Moving as one unit the boys continued to move towards the house, while both watched and listened for anymore signs of danger. A large dark cloud seemed to coalesce above them bringing with it an impending feeling of dread for both of the boys. 'Run Sam.' Dean yelled as the cloud smothered the sun and once again the yard was cast in darkness and shadows.

The winds picked up until they whipped around their vulnerable limbs, tangling them in an almost deliberate fashion sending Dean crashing to his knees just as they reached the back porch.

'Dean!' Sam yelled terrified when he saw his brother fall for apparently no reason, scrambling through the sudden dust cloud Sam felt his brother's arm and tried to pull him up and to run at the same time.

'Get outta here Sammy.' Dean tried to push his brother away but Sam refused to give up and finally they were once again fighting against the wind, dust and turmoil blocking them from the house.

They could hear someone shouting at them, and then a hissing sound filled the air along with ear-splitting screams drowning out the winds. With the small respite in the assault the brothers managed to get to the porch and safety behind the wards and sigils discretely placed around the outside of the house.

A large black truck emerged through the chaotic scene bursting through the last of the unnatural twisters attacking the small church and rectory. The driver lunged from the truck armed and shooting at the black cloud as he ran, the salt rounds dispersing the oily black components of the clouds sending them backwards and away from their intended targets.

'What the hell are you doing here dad?' Dean yelled as he pushed Sam ahead of him into the house.

'Dammit I'm still your father boy, you show me some respect.' John yelled back as he slammed the door behind him, breathlessly he stared at his sons and then at his friend, 'Jim.'

'What are you doing here John?' Jim asked as he set down his own weapons and exorcism paraphernalia on the table.

'I need to talk to the boys, and yes I mean both of them.' John admitted although he still couldn't look Sam in the eye, 'but first care to let me in on what just happened?'

'It was my fault,' Sam said moving back and away from his father, 'they came here for me.'

'No not true … hang on what?' Dean started to deny Sam's claim and then his words hit home and Dean turned to face his brother, 'what do you mean Sammy?'

'I – I had a dream and that's why …'

'Why you were in the church?'

'Yeah.' The two boys spoke in quiet almost intimate tones as though they were the only ones present. 'I couldn't … let you and Jim get hurt.'

'So you thought what Sam?' Dean asked more harshly than he intended and immediately regretted his tone when he saw Sam shrink back even more, 'what about the dream Sam?'

'A demon had Caleb … hurting him and then sent others to get you … I couldn't let them take you Dean.'

'Wait what do you mean a demon had Caleb how did you know that Sam?' John asked breaking the self-imposed bubble around the boys.

'Dad!' Dean growled out the warning but John was moving towards a terrified Sam, 'dammit dad back off.'

John blinked and stared down at Dean's restraining hand and then at the pale face of his youngest son, 'Sam I'm not going to hurt you … I – I just …'

'Just what dad?' Dean asked his protective instincts overriding his respect and natural fear of his militaristic father.

'I got reports that Caleb and Rufus were ambushed on their way back from Chicago … that's why I'm here.'

'M'not leaving Sammy.'

'Not asking you to, but I need to know what Sam knows.' John said as he watched his youngest carefully, 'I need to know more about your … visions Sam.'

'Why? You didn't want to know before … hell dad you tried to strangle him and accused him of being a monster.' Dean continued to rant at his father; his own protective streak for his little brother overrode any thought to his own safety.

'It's okay Dean,' Sam said as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet his father's, 'what do you want to know dad?'

'I think that before we do anything we should go and sit down, Samuel looks like he is ready to fall down,' Jim said his quiet but firm voice carried the weight he intended and both Dean and John managed to look contrite enough without losing their Winchester machismoness.

Sam giggled at the sight as he went to sit down in the living room; it wasn't long before he was joined by the others all armed with warm drinks and thick slices of toast.

They ate in companionable silence, although Dean couldn't help but sneak glances at his father as he tried to get into the older man's head and thinking. He was divided in the way he felt and it was really starting to annoy him; part of him wanted John to embrace Sam and to apologise for the earlier misunderstanding and that he accepted Sam for who he was visions and all but the other part of him wanted to take Sam and run, that he didn't trust his father and Sam was just a tool in his father's arsenal.

'Dean?' Sam tried for a third time to gain his brother's attention but Dean seemed to be deep in thought about something, with a small sigh and the beginning of a grin Sam decided for a more upfront and direct approach. Leaning forward slightly he cupped his hand and swiped the back of Dean's head a soft giggle gave away any signs of malice but the look of shock on his brother's face had him laughing out loud.

'Dammit Sammy what the?' Dean blustered but when he saw the smile in Sam's eyes and heard the laughter coming from him Dean chuckled along with him and gave him a swat of his own. 'What's up kiddo?'

'You were miles away, I tried to get your attention three times dude what's going on?' Sam asked as his giggles slowly subsided, 'you okay?'

'M'fine ya little bitch … so dad what did you want to find out?'

'Sam I – I have had time to think about what happened … and some rather persuasive arguments made …' John admitted ruefully as he rubbed his still bruised chin, 'I made some mistakes and well should never have treated you like I did.'

'That's okay dad it's all in the past now.' Sam said blushing profusely; he wanted to believe his dad so much but something deep down inside of him yelled at him to be careful and not to believe. Confused he watched John carefully for any signs of impending trouble or betrayal.

'I've been having dreams lately that come true.'

'Can you tell me about them?' John leaned forward as he spoke his hands clasped in front and an earnest look in his eyes as he listened closely to what Sam was saying. Jim and Dean traded looks as John acted more and more out of character. 'When did you start having them?'

'I ahh don't remember exactly but they seem to have been getting more intense over the last six months. They seem to be getting stronger I guess, I mean I get really bad headaches and sometimes nosebleeds.'

'And the seizures … don't forget them Sam.' John added, 'I am so sorry for the way I acted I should have been more … father-like.'

'Who are you and what have you done with my father?' Dean asked his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he suddenly got up and moved to stand between John and Sam. 'Christo.'

John hissed as his eyes flashed a deep red, 'you little shit.'

'Where's my dad?' Dean demanded as he pulled out his glock and took aim at John's chest, 'who are you?'

'I'm your father you snivelling little shit.' John cocked his head and smiled coldly, 'you need to show me respect.'

'No I show my father the respect he deserves you … you only need to see this and to get the hell outta this house.'

'Now, now that is not a nice way to speak to your dear daddy,' John's eyes flashed again and suddenly Dean was flying backwards crashing into the floor to ceiling bookcase; in the briefest of seconds he was the base of a mountain of books and wooden shelves.

'Dean!' Sam cried out as Jim went to attack John, with an air of bored distraction and another flick of the wrist John sent Jim flying backwards out of the room and down the hallway.

'Sorry Preacher but there aint any need for preaching in here for now,' John laughed as he turned and fixed a fiery red stare on the youngest Winchester; 'now Sam, it's time you and I had a nice long talk.'

'Leave my dad alone!' Sam cried out as he tried to protect his unconscious brother and to keep an eye on the demon riding his dad's body. 'Get outta his body!'

'Sorry kiddo can't do that, but I can do this…' John flicked his finger and Sam found himself seated and unable to move, 'just wait for me for just a tic and then we're gonna have some father and son bonding time.'

S—D

Groaning in pain Caleb rolled over and tried to sit up, after two attempts he finally managed to rest his head against the wall as he pulled his knees up towards his chest in a vain attempt to ease the pull on his abused and bruised abdomen and chest area. Once he was sure that he wasn't going to fall down again Caleb slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness he was able to make out his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a basement crossed with an old-time dungeon. Cages lined two of the walls, all of them were floor to ceiling in height and about four feet square, the wall under the stairs held a rack of various tools of torture and beneath the small window was a rack of assorted whips and scourges. The air in the room was thick with the stench of blood, burnt flesh and sulphur. A surgical-like table stood just off the centre of the room under the only light source.

Caleb ran his tongue over his cracked lips and regarded the can of water in his cage suspiciously; he was so thirsty but could he trust them not have tampered with it. 'Fuck it!' He couldn't ignore the thirst tearing his insides apart anymore. With a shaking hand he slowly picked it up and raised the can to his mouth. The rancidness of the water made him dry retch as soon as he took a tentative sip but he continued to gulp it down. He had to do something to ease the dryness and thirst. He had only dropped the now empty can a few seconds ago when the cramps set in. Crying out in agony, Caleb curled in on himself as the pain exploded in his stomach; tears ran down his face as he tried to control his breathing and to manage the pain.

'Damn … fuck … shit … bastards!' Caleb cussed as he banged his forehead against the floor.

'Cal?'

'Rufus? Fuck … fuck … don't drink the water!'

'Ah yeah been there done that.' Rufus chuckled as he leaned against the bars of his cage and tried to reach his friend and comrade. 'How you doin' over there anyways?'

'Yeah peachy, gotta recommend this place dude, party central or what.' Caleb rasped as the cramps slowly eased. 'The others?'

'They took Max upstairs just after they dropped ya back in the cage, I ahh heard Tim before but there's been no sign …'

'What about you Rufus?'

'Me? Ah I'm doing great … yep I just wish that Singer was here to enjoy it all with us.'

'I'm sure that he would love that!' Caleb choked on a chuckle and coughed up a small ball of bloodied phlegm. 'Ah shit that aint good.'

'No shit Sherlock!' Rufus strained against the bars as he tried to reach for his ailing friend, 'Caleb come on man talk to me.'

'Hurts Rufus … man this sucks.'

'Never short of the obvious are ya?'

Before Caleb could answer the door at the top of the stairs swung open bathing the basement in a harsh bright light. Hissing in pain Rufus crab crawled backwards his light sensitive eyes watering from the sudden assault of brightness, he pushed hard against the bars and hated himself for that and the fact that he had no way of taking control of the situation. 'Leave him alone you bastards.' He called out when he saw them dragging a semi-conscious man towards the table, 'dammit he's nearly dead already.'

'You want to take his place Hunter?' One of the demonically possessed men came to stand in front of Rufus' cage. 'I can multi-task.'

'Shut up ya idjit,' The injured hunter spat the words out in a shower of spittle and blood making Rufus react before he thought of the consequences.

'Singer? What the? How the hell did they get you, you old coot?' Rufus slammed himself against the bars and strained to reach out to the new arrival.

'Keep it up and you will join your friend on the rack.' Their guard snarled as he forced Bobby into a cage on the opposite side of the room. Smiling evilly he opened the door to Rufus' cage and with inhuman strength pulled the hunter out and tossed him onto the table, 'decided that you're gonna be the entrée.'

'Rufus!' Bobby pushed himself up only to collapse on his shattered knees, 'shit, shit, shit Caleb you here too?'

'Yeah man what happened how did they get ya?'

'Smashed into the car, it was a set up.' Bobby spat out the words, 'tell ya Caleb there's a mole as big as …' Rufus' scream silenced Bobby as they both concentrated on their friend and both internally raged at their inability to help him.

TBC