Disclaimer: I own nothing in the following story. All recognizable characters and locations belong to Eric Kripke, the actors who portray them and everyone in between. No money was made and no offence was intended in the telling of this story. All characters will be dusted off and returned after I have finished playing with them sometime in the very distant future.

Author's Notes: Thanks to lynxlan and Muffy for their help with betaing this story.

This chapter's warnings: A few swear words...


Shadows

By infinite shadow

Chapter 9

Dean allowed Sammy to set the pace as he guided him into the bathroom. He would've preferred to put the kid to bed and bring the medical supplies to him but Bobby's dire warnings had him taking Sammy to the bandages instead.

He kept a hand on his brother's arm as he got the med kit out from under the sink. As he straightened up, big red bag in hand, he finally got a good look at Sammy's eyes. The emptiness in them sent a slight shiver down his spine.

"Sammy?" He asked softly.

Sam blinked a few times before his eyes moved lazily over to look at him. He blinked once more before looking away and dipping his head.

Dean moved his hand to his brother's neck and gave a slight squeeze. "Can you do this in here or would you rather lie down?" He asked as he plunked the bag on the sink and wrapped a towel around Sammy's bleeding hand.

There was no response or even a flinch. The thirteen year old just continued to stare down at his shoes.

"Make a tight fist around that Sammy. Need to stop the bleeding, kay?" Dean said softly. Again there was no response but his little brother clenched his hand as tight as he could around the towel.

Dean couldn't help but be reminded of a much younger Sam who had scraped his knees or hands while out playing. Usually the wounds weren't all that bad. A few minor bruises, scrapes, or maybe enough of a deep gash for bleeding was usually all he suffered. The embarrassment was always harder on him as Sam usually disregarded any cautions from his older brother to be careful when he played. This time the circumstances were way different, but the posture, the withdrawal, and the shaking were exactly the same.

Dean made quick work of cleaning up the superficial wounds. He spoke continuously as he worked with a calm low voice. It was a one sided conversation and he'd expected no less. He'd learned over the years when Sam withdrew it was usually very short lived. All he had to do was have patience, keep talking and wait him out.

"Ok Sammy. You're doing great buddy. Need you to let go of the towel now," Dean said as he pulled gently on smaller fingers. The fingers gave easily and the hand relaxed. He pulled the stained red towel away and inspected the wound. "Not so bad. Just two… Three stitches should do it."

As Dean threaded the needle he started to run out of things to say as he concentrated. So he started humming instead. He began to pierce the tender skin with the needle when he saw his little brother's head shift slightly, just enough to look at him through his bangs. Dean kept his face relaxed as he focused on his task, not wanting to spook Sam back to where he was peeking out from.

"Just about done here Sammy," Dean said with a quiet ease.

His brother didn't respond. If he had Dean would have been surprised. As much as his brother would talk nonstop and argue his point into oblivion he could also clam up like nobody's business. He was pleased to feel him relax a little.

Dean cut the thread and put the awful smelling poultice over his wound. He held the wrist firmly as Sam tried to pull away.

"Sorry. Orders from Bobby," Dean said as he wrapped gauze around the smelly packet and Sam's hand.

He smiled slightly as he could see Sam grimace slightly. "You'll get used to the smell."

"Stings," Sam whispered.

"Yeah. Shows it's working," Dean said.

"Tired," Sam murmured.

Dean nodded. "Just a few more things to do before you can…" he started to say but stopped as his little brother leaned forward and rested his forehead against his shoulder. He froze for a moment before he let the gauze drop and wrapped his arms around him in a gentle hug.

He knew Sammy was falling asleep and really he couldn't blame him, but he couldn't allow it. "Hey Sam? I know you're tired but you gotta stay awake long enough for me to finish, kay?"

There were muffled words from Sam but none of them were understandable.

"Just let me finish with the gauze buddy," Dean coaxed. "C'mon. Sit up."

Gently he pushed Sam up and cradled his little brother awkwardly against his side. Dean rolled the rest of the gauze on the hand and tucked it in. He could cut and tie it later.

"That's it. Let's go," Dean said as he struggled to stand and bring his brother up with him.

"Dean?" Sam mumbled.

"Yeah dude. It's me," he replied softly knowing his brother was floating between slightly away but mostly asleep.

"You need go now. Dad needs silver."

"Already got it Sammy," Dean answered as he gripped him a little tighter and walked him down the hall.

"Havta go fore Dad finishz n t'phone," Sam said slurring his words together.

"Nah. We're staying in tonight," Dean said. He quietly huffed out a breath and leaned against the wall for a minute. He'd quickly wrapped a towel around his own bleeding hand and had hastily tucked supplies in his pocket to deal with it later. He was starting to feel light headed and Sam was getting heavier with each step. He pushed off the wall and started shuffling down the hall again.

"No. Can't," Sam said as his head rolled slightly and he tried to push away from Dean. "Gets you."

"Dad's not here tonight Sammy. No one's gonna hurt us," Dean soothed softly almost choking on the words. His brother had been trying to protect him, all this time. He shook his head as he remembered a few other times he absently listened to his brother telling him Dad needing this or that and he'd go and get them. Sam would be in bed by the time he got back and nothing seemed wrong except for his own angry and confused thoughts.

Dean was pretty much carrying Sam as they went into their room. He pulled a few things closer to the bed's night stand before reaching down and pulling back the covers.

He paused slightly as he shifted his little brother slightly against him and held on a little tighter. He chewed his lip slightly trying to figure out the best way to do this. He had to figure out a way to get some layers of shirt and shoes off Sam before getting into bed without waking him.

He quickly toed off his own shoes before he sat them both down. It only took a second for him to figure out the answer. He grinned ever so slightly with an almost nostalgic look on his face.

"Time for bed Sammy. Gimme a hug," he whispered.

Sam mumbled something and sighed before he leaned forward slightly and lifted up his arms.

Dean's smile grew slightly. Just like when they were kids and he would carry Sammy to bed. First he'd ask him for a hug, then after Sammy's arms would wrap around him, he'd stand up and carry him to wherever he was sleeping that night.

Quickly, but gently, Dean tried to pull off two of the three shirts. He struggled to do it with one hand and they all ended up coming off. His breath caught in his throat as he saw his brother's back.

There were a myriad of bruises, lines of healing cuts and barely healed over welts. His fingers shook as he reached out and barely touched the abused skin. A wave of white hot fury washed over him. "Son of a bitch," he growled out.

"M'sorry," Sam whimpered as his arms lowered and he seemed to cower slightly. "I'll get it right."

The words had Dean pulling his brother tightly against him. "You're safe Sammy. He's not touching you ever again. I'll kill him first," Dean swore as anger lit eyes stared out of his room where the door frame of their father's room was barely visible.

Waking up fully, Sam sighed and squirmed slightly in the tight hold. "It's my fault. I gave him wrong information," he whispered.

Dean glanced over and tried to see his brother's face. He tried to quell the fresh wave of anger that the words had brought forth. "Bad intel doesn't equal abuse Little Man," he tried to say gently but heard the edge in his voice, and worse, felt Sam flinch.

There was nothing else forthcoming from the youngest Winchester and Dean sighed wearily. "Can you kick off your shoes?"

A moment later Dean was trying to get Sam to lay down but his little brother just wasn't cooperating.

"Sam I thought you were tired," he said slightly exasperated.

"Where's dad?" He asked.

"Still tied up. Bobby's with him," Dean replied then grabbed a bottle from the small table. "If you won't lie down then drink this."

Sam took the sports drink. He nervously picked at the bottle's label but didn't drink.

"Ok kid," Dean said as he rested an arm over his shoulders. "What is it?"

Sam leaned into the touch. "I may have just killed us all and you want me to drink this?"

"Well how very apocalyptic of you and yes drink it all," Dean said trying for humor but falling far from his mark.

"You don't understand," Sam said with a slight shake of his head and tried to give the drink back.

"You know Sammy I think I've been pretty patient here. I did the ritual and everything. Granted I read your journal without your permission but, dude, seriously, I'm still having a little trouble with what was in there. I'm tired. I hurt everywhere and really man I have no idea what's been happening or how we even got so completely fucked up. But I gotta tell you if you don't start filling some of the blanks here I'm gonna explode from sheer frustration," Dean said as calmly as he could but he felt anything but calm.

Sam nodded against his shoulder. "Um, ok?"

"Buddy I'm not mad. Really I'm not," Dean said. A soft snort against his shoulder made him sigh and run his badly wrapped hand over his face. "Fine. I'm furious at dad and I'm not too happy with myself me but I'm not going to take it out on you."

"Promise?"

The question was asked so quietly he almost didn't hear it. He looked down and waited for his little brother to look up at him. "Yeah man. I promise. Now spill."

"Fine. Did, um did you read everything?" Sam asked. "Cause if you did you know most of it."

Dean nodded.

"Ok. Then the only thing you don't know is that… Well… Um…," Sam stalled.

"Dude spill it or so help me," Dean threatened.

"This wasn't the first time I did this," Sam whispered and his entire body started to shake.

"What?" Dean asked his eyes going wide.

"I made it worse. I did this to dad and and if if I," Sam started to take shorter breaths as he tried to get all the words out. "If I did this wr wrong the demon will be locked in dad forever and we'll die. He promised me as much. He .. he.."

"Damnit kid breathe," Dean muttered as his stomach dropped away at the words. His brother had tried to do this all on his own and gotten more than burned in the process.

"He promised me he would flail you alive and keep you living long enough to take out little pieces of organs inches at a time before he slowly drained me of blood," Sam said.

Dean tried to get his own panicky heartbeat under control as he turned and stared down at Sammy's tear stained face.

"I didn't know what else to do," Sam whispered as tears continued to stream down his face.

"You should've talked to me. You could've come to me," Dean whispered back.

"I tried. You didn't listen."