DISCLAIMER: You know, I can't help but wonder…while everyone over in Vancouver is so distracted getting ready for the Winter Olympics, could that be a good time to infiltrate the Supernatural set and try to overthrow Kripke's throne? Hmm…it's a thought. *plots*
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Bless the Broken Road
PREVIOUSLY: Dean shut his eyes in regret and shame. "Yeah…he's technically a friend of mine." He then reopened them, turning around to fix Sam with a stern, grave look to emphasize his next words…words that he prayed the young psychic would take to heart.
"But mark my words, kid…he's definitely no friend of yours."
Chapter 9
Gordon Walker was enjoying a relaxing afternoon. Feet propped up, recliner kicked back, and plenty of food…and being honest with himself, the fact that it all belonged to Bobby Singer made it all the more satisfying. The old fool probably thought his house was impenetrable, and to the average person it likely would be…but not to a fellow hunter, and especially a more skilled one like himself. The dark-skinned man had gotten past Bobby's dog and picked the many locks with ease, needing a secure place to recoup after the exhausting but successful Wendigo hunt, and for once the hunter didn't want to put forth the effort of finding a place himself. Bobby's heavily fortified house would do just fine, he knew – plus, when the old man and Dean returned, they could have a good discussion concerning the next hunt, along with…other matters that had come to his attention.
He was just about to finally pick up the phone and call Dean when in walked the man himself, unannounced and unexpected with a fuming Bobby Singer in tow. He smiled inwardly. This should be good…
"Comfy there, are ya, Walker?" the older hunter almost literally growled. "It's a damn nice chair, I can attest to that…seein' as how it's mine, along with every other thing in this damn house! Just what the hell do you think you're doin' freeloadin' here without my permission…are you that crazy to think that breakin' into my house is a way to get on my good side?!"
"Well…that's just the point, Singer," Gordon answered coolly. "You would've never given me permission, not even if I'd asked…so I figured, hell, why ask? I needed a safe place to crash."
Bobby glowered. "Yeah, it's a safe place, all right…'cept for all that buckshot I own and use on intruders!"
"Well then…it's a good thing I'm a friend instead of an intruder, isn't it?" the hunter replied with a smirk. He heard Bobby mutter something that sounded like 'not in my book, ya ain't' under his breath, and his smile widened. He turned his attention to the other man now in the room. "So, Dean…long time, no see. Anything new on your end?"
"Couple of things," Dean answered nonchalantly. "Went on a few hunts with Bobby since the vampires."
"Really," Gordon commented, intrigued. "Thought you were comin' here to take a break…what kind of hunts were they?"
"Vengeful spirit was the latest one," Dean answered. "Before that, a witch and a poltergeist…and just a couple days after I got here, got a major hit on some demonic activity."
A sudden eagerness flooded Gordon's frame at the statement, and he turned cold eyes to Dean. "Did you check it out…was it that damn psychic kid we're lookin' for?"
The younger hunter suppressed a shudder, shrugging it off. Here goes the lying… He met Gordon's eyes with a casual look in his own. "Nah, 'fraid not…just a garden variety black-eyed bitch. We took care of it."
Gordon nodded, mulling the new information over and anticipating further revelations…but was immediately distracted within seconds by a tall shadow lurking in the doorway of the room. He straightened, looking in that direction. "So, Singer…" he spoke up with a pointed glance in Bobby's direction. "Ya got other company I should know about?"
"Actually, I do," Bobby answered evenly. "Only, unlike you, this company's welcome here."
Gordon disengaged the recliner's footrest and rose from his seat, looking expectantly at the dark silhouette. "Well, tell whoever it is not to be shy…let 'em step into the light, lest I start thinkin' they're a Fang and go for my crossbow."
"Fine," Bobby gritted his teeth in disapproval of the hunter's taunt, and then looked over his shoulder to Sam. "Come on out, kid…you're safe here."
Gordon's dark eyes narrowed as he took in the long, lean form that came into view…a young man – probably twenty-something if the hunter had to guess – with a mass of dark tousled hair atop his head and wide, wary eyes set into his boyish face. He gave a tiny smile in greeting, which Gordon returned with a nod before shifting his gaze to Bobby. "So…pickin' up strays now, are we Singer?"
"Ain't any business of yours if I am," Bobby grumbled in response. "His name's Samuel Dawson…he's a kid that me 'n Dean saved from that demon he told ya about." The bearded man called attention to the dark ring of bruises peeking out from Sam's hoodie to bolster the lie, having had him purposely lower the garment before coming into the house to ensure that the marks were visible. "Found that Hell-bitch chokin' the life outta the poor boy when we came in…he woulda been a goner if not for Dean incapacitatin' the demon while I read the exorcism."
"Well…good work, then," Gordon commented disinterestedly. "But ya mind tellin' me why he tagged along with ya?"
"'Cause he had nowhere else to go." This time it was Dean who answered, with what outwardly looked like a supportive hand on Sam's shoulder, but in reality was a reminder. Stay down, kid…let us do the talking. "And as much as it sucks, he knows the truth now…about what's out there. But unlike most people, Sam here's takin' it by the horns…he wants to learn a few things about hunting."
"Well I guess that explains it, then." Gordon elaborated at the two other hunters' clueless looks. "I'd been hearin' through the hunters' grapevine that you've been seen around with a new partner in tow…guess this kid's the culprit, eh?" He moved his eyes to Sam, raking them over the young man from head to foot. "So the pup wants to start playin' with the big dogs…cute. I mean, damn," he joked to Dean and Bobby, "he even looks like a pup…those big dewy eyes and all that hair." The dark-skinned hunter smirked cruelly. "He's gonna attract all the nasties out there like flies to honey…he practically screams easy pickings despite his size. Would make damn good bait, ya know?"
Bobby's expression grew thunderous. "Now you wait just a minute you—"
"Kidding," Gordon placated…if only just to shut Bobby up. "Kidding, man."
"You'd better be," Dean couldn't help but snarl under his breath, his grip reflexively and protectively tightening on Sam's shoulder. He felt like kicking himself though when he saw Gordon frown in surprise upon overhearing the words…he had let his heart rule his head for a split second. And it was about to backfire.
"What was that, Dean?" the hunter inquired, pinning his younger companion with a disapproving stare. "I'm pretty sure I heard what I heard, but damn…here I thought I was your friend." He shook his head. "You really seem to've taken a shine to that kid in the little while he's been with ya…I mean, bringin' 'im here is one thing, but the fact that you actually dragged him along on hunts already?" Dark orbs shifted to Sam. "Really thought that you were above fallin' for a pair of big shiny eyes…especially when they don't even belong to a woman. That said…should me 'n Singer leave the two of ya alone?"
Dean chuffed. "Get real, Gordon…I like the kid, okay? Definitely not like that…but yeah. He's cool, okay? And don't worry; he won't be goin' on hunts with the two of us….just me 'n Bobby. We're the ones that've taken him on…you don't have to have a thing to do with him."
A sly look flashed across Gordon's face. "Oh…I don't know, Dean…I actually think helpin' to train some new blood would be good for me, and ultimately good for the kid, too. For one thing…I could teach him how to talk."
"I can talk just fine, thank you," Sam spoke up, level stare fixed on Gordon. "But it helps when people talk to me first instead of just about me."
The older man smiled condescendingly at Sam. "Huh…the kid has a backbone after all. So, Sammy…let's talk, then. Where ya from?"
"Texas. And it's Sam," came the withering response.
Gordon nodded. "I see. Word has it that you wanna learn how to hunt…how've your couple of experiences been so far…think you've got it in your blood? Think you can handle the intensity…that you can kill what needs to be killed even as it looks you in the eye? Even when…it's human?" He finally lowered himself back into the armchair, keeping the young man in his line of vision. "For example…we've got a pending mission involvin' a psychic kid, real son of a bitch. Thing is…he looks like just a kid, still. A kid like you. BUT, the more important thing is…he's really a killer. A soulless, spineless Hell spawn. A freak…and he needs to die."
Sam's heart began to pound against his ribs even as he kept his expression blank. Oh God, he's talking about me… The young psychic was unable to prevent a noisy swallow, but otherwise remained stoic as Gordon went on. "Sucks to be him, then," he commented dryly.
"Sucks to be a hunter, too, kid…it ain't an easy ride, this life. But you do what you've gotta do…that's the price you pay. Take it from me…I was only eighteen years old when I had to gank my own sister."
"What?" Sam's mouth fell open in shock. "Why…why would you do that, don't you—"
"Because I had to, kid." Gordon's stare was impassive. "It wasn't my sister anymore…it was a vampire. She was turned…and I took the head right off the Fang that did it. But I had to do the same with my sister…she was no different from them anymore."
"Did you even try talking to her?" Sam voiced incredulously. "I mean…she was family…wouldn't you have tried to do something before going to the last resort? Maybe she wasn't—"
"Evil, kid?" Gordon scoffed. "Trust me…she was. All supernatural things are…nothin' but monsters. This ain't Casper or Twilight or 'Teen Wolf', Sammy…this is real life. Good monsters only exist in fantasies and fairy tales…just like happily-ever-afters." The hunter then shot a pointed look at Bobby. "And besides…if you think I'm such a bastard for killin' someone I loved like that, why don't ya ask my predecessor over there all about it."
"You son of a bitch," Bobby furiously hissed. "You're about the ten seconds it would take me to get my gun from gettin' a load of buckshot up your sorry ass!"
"Chill, chill," Gordon held his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. You're right…we should let bygones be bygones, here. Focus on the here and now…and our next hunt."
"Which is…?" Dean queried warily, now himself disgusted with Gordon's words to Sam and Bobby, his grip on the younger man's shoulder unconsciously strengthening almost to the point of bruising…not that Sam seemed to mind.
"Eastern Wisconsin," Gordon answered. "A slew of demonic omens popped up two days ago. Intense ones, too…looks like this one's nasty. Now it could be either a demon or our psychic kid, but either way…whatever the hell it is dies within the week. But we need all the manpower we can get on this one, and all my buddies are out on other hunts except for you, Dean…you in?"
"Do I have a choice?" Dean muttered sarcastically, causing Gordon to once again frown in surprise.
"Hmm…not quite the enthusiastic answer I was expecting, but it'll have to do. Singer…Sam? How 'bout you two?"
"Sam?" Dean beat both men to the punch. "Are you freakin' kiddin' me, Gordon…he's not ready for this! For…for a demon!"
"And why not?" Gordon instantly challenged. "He's taken on a witch, a poltergeist, and a vengeful spirit, hasn't he? And it he seems to be still in one piece, so…I don't see what the big deal is, here."
"The big deal is that this hunt is gonna be dangerous," Bobby answered for Dean. "And not the everyday type of hunting danger that a standard spirit an' amateur hour with a damn teenager dabblin' in the black arts while wearin' pink nail polish bring…this is the big leagues, the kid could get killed! He just ain't experienced enough yet…not for this."
"Listen, old man," Gordon rose from his seat again, voice taking on a dark tone. "Dean is my hunting partner on the big hunts…mine, and if baby boy over there's gonna be followin' him around like a lost puppy then he's damn well gonna be pullin' some weight right along with the rest of us. You're already goin' about training the kid all wrong…you don't coddle in this life. You order, you drill…and you don't go easy 'cause there ain't nothin' easy about what the kid's gettin' himself into."
"Well maybe that's your way, Walker…but that ain't mine. This house, however, is…and if you don't like the way things are runnin' then you can just get the hell out!"
Gordon snorted at Bobby's stern words, and then shook his head sadly. "Well shit…you two've become veritable guard dogs with this pup. Kinda almost makes me think," dark eyes locked with Sam's in a suspicious glare, "…that you're hiding something."
Dean didn't hesitate to reply, despite feeling his blood freeze at the words. "Oh, right, I forgot…you're still waiting for us to come outta the closet or what-the-hell-ever, right?" he quipped sarcastically. "Well, keep waiting for that and back the hell off…we're clean and so is the kid."
"Well then prove it," Gordon dared. "If that's the case...let him come on the hunt. Let 'im show his stuff."
"Guys…"
"He doesn't have the stuff for a demon yet, Walker, especially not one as powerful as this one sounds!"
"Guys."
"Well the only way I'm gonna have him around Dean and I without wanting to put a bullet right his between his eyes for fear that he's more than he seems, is if I see him in action on a hunt, takin' down monsters instead of siding with 'em and—"
"GUYS!" Sam's bellow snapped three hot heads to attention. "Call me crazy…but maybe I should have some say in this?"
"You've got a point, kid." Gordon was the first to speak after a moment. "The final decision should be yours…and I'll be waitin' for it." The dark-skinned man snatched up his car keys and stalked toward the door, throwing some last parting words over his shoulder. "I'm headed to a motel somewhere nearby…obviously I'm not too welcome here, bein' that there's a new kid in town. One which I'll be gettin' back to in a couple days, to see what decision he's made." The hunter looked at the young psychic with a disconcerting twinkle in his eye. "So choose wisely, Sammy-boy…I know where to find ya. And if I don't find ya here, well then…I may just start to suspect something." A shiver slid up Sam's spine at the wink Gordon then gave him, before giving a casual wave to all three of them. "Later, fellas."
The door slammed shut, and Sam finally let out the long, shuddering breath he'd been inadvertently holding in. "Shit…"
"Sam," Dean softly called as he made his way over to the now lightly trembling boy. "Sammy, hey…you're okay. He's gone…stupid son of a bitch."
"Dean…" Sam turned to him, eyes resolute. "I have to do this hunt."
"What? Sam…"
"No, Dean…I have to. This Gordon guy was your friend long before I was…and I don't wanna be trouble for you. I have to prove myself, once and for all…to both him and you."
Dean swallowed a lump of guilt at the statement, knowing that he indeed still did have the slightest inklings of lingering trust issues with the powerful psychic, his hope that they were simply no longer noticeable now dashed. "Sam…look, kid…you don't need to do this, okay? You're already gettin' too stuck in the crap that I have to stand in and I…I don't know…I like bein' around you, but…" The young hunter shook his head and finally just cut to the chase, locking eyes with Sam. "I don't want you gettin' involved with Gordon, okay?"
"But you are, why—"
"I know, kid, I know…and it was a mistake." Dean saw both Sam and Bobby's brows rise at his candid admission but pressed on. "I'm…I guess I'm only just now startin' to realize that, but…it doesn't change the fact. The guy came into my life at the worst possible time…right after my dad died, and I was a mess…knowin' he went to Hell for me…" Dean blinked back tears at the horrible memories. "I needed somethin' to throw myself into, and someone to latch onto, to take my mind off the pain. Well that something turned out to be hunting…and that someone turned out to be Gordon. He was fanatical, he was ruthless…and he was just what I was lookin' for at that time. I ignored my better instincts…and now I'm too deep in the hole he helped me dig to get back out." Earnest emerald eyes met Sam's sensitive blue-greens. "I don't want the same thing to happen to you."
"Dean…I—"
"And besides…you're a psychic. You've got supernatural powers out the wazoo, and if Gordon gets wind of that…he won't stop at anything to kill you. I suppose you know he was talkin' about you when he mentioned the pending hunt, the kid he's so gung-ho about ganking…and if you go hunting this demon with us? Somethin's bound to slip."
"And if I don't…Gordon's gonna know for sure something's up with me," Sam countered softly. "He'd hunt me down anyway."
Dean's eyes flashed. "He wouldn't touch you…we'd protect you."
"And then we'd all be on his bad side. Dean…look, I appreciate all your concern, I do, but…I just don't think there's any other way around this. I'll be careful, I swear…I won't give him any reason to suspect anything," Sam promised sincerely.
Dean let out a long sigh, warring with himself over what to do. A part of him wanted Sam to run far, far away from the threat that Gordon posed…but the more selfish side of him wanted the kid to stay. Especially after the words that Teresa Nichols had told him at the hospital. Though he had discounted her the whole time he was there, he had gotten to thinking after leaving…and he too had ultimately realized that the strange coincidences of Nebraska, the two dates exactly six months apart in 1983, and the resemblance of Sam to what Teresa had claimed the baby looked like were too much to simply ignore. But more than that…Dean remembered what Azazel had said years ago, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Actually, it had been in an area just outside of Jefferson, Missouri…and it was an encounter Dean would never forget. It was where John Winchester and his son had both fallen victim to Azazel, trapped with no way out as Yellow Eyes, inside a middle-aged lawyer's body, had his way with them. The demon's grand finale had been his attempt to kill Dean, pinning him to the wall and ripping him apart from the inside as John was forced to watch helplessly, pinned against the opposite wall…but before that, Azazel had interrogated his father, saying some very peculiar things that all added up to Dean suspecting that the man was apparently keeping one hell of a big secret from him. The words, even to this day, still rang in his ears.
"So, Johnny-boy…talked to the kid lately?"
"What kid…I have no idea what you're—"
"Oh, but you do…lie all you want but you do. Lying is what you do best, after all…isn't it?"
"Look who's talking…aren't you demon sons of bitches known for that very thing?"
"Oh, we are…I'll give you that. But sometimes we tell the truth…especially when it hurts and messes with your head. This would be one of those times, Johnny-boy. So I'll ask you again…have you checked up on your son, lately?"
"My son is right here, in case you haven't noticed."
"Oh, of course, of course…so that's it then. You really just don't care, do you?"
"I love my son more than life itself, you--"
"Aw…I feel so moved. But not as moved as I feel every time I look in on your sweet little boy…he's gonna make me one Hell of a soldier one day. Pun intended."
"And speakin' of Hell, that won't happen…not when I send you there first."
"Yeah, yeah, heard it all before…but tell me this, Johnny. Are you gonna let him back in after that…? Wait, don't answer. I already know you won't."
"You don't know anything, you—"
"It's gone on too long, Pops…hasn't it? When you made that decision, it was your final answer…evident every time you secretly tracked down where the kid was, who he was with…and then made sure to stay the hell away from those places and people. And you know, I don't blame ya for it, my friend…in that case, ya did the right thing, for both you and Deanie Dearest over there. But then…chasing after me all this time, when that should've been it? When you should've let it all go the minute you let him go...? Wrong. Move."
Azazel's last two words had often haunted Dean's dreams at night, as that was when the Demon had proceeded to tearing into him in emphasis of the words, but now…it was Yellow Eyes' other statements that were haunting him. Dean had always assumed Azazel was talking about him, despite most of the words completely not fitting…because after all, Dean was his only son, right? But now…the last surviving Winchester wasn't so sure. Was he really the last surviving Winchester…or could the big secret have been that Dean had a brother all along?
He'd wanted to ask his father what Azazel had been talking about, but after the Demon's assault on him, things had been a blur. John mustering up enough strength to extract the Colt from his pocket and fire a wild, desperate shot, hitting the Demon in the leg and while unfortunately not killing him, at least being enough to make him vacate his human host…being bundled into the Impala by the older man's frantic hands, a rough voice choked with tears begging him to hold on…the deafening sounds of crushed metal and shattered glass, darkness closing in around him…and finally waking up to find out that his father would never be waking up again. I never got the chance to ask, damn it…
Scrubbing a callused hand down his face, Dean finally turned back to Sam…he just couldn't let the kid go. "Okay…okay, dude. You win. But first? We've gotta make sure you're back to basics."
"What do you mean?" the young psychic queried, heart rate finally slowing and his trembles already dissipated.
Bobby stepped in, placing a supportive hand on Sam's shoulder and grinning. "He means you're about to get a refresher course in hunting demons, son…the old fashioned way."
TBC…
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A/N: Yep, he's baaaaack…and still as bad as ever, clearly! LOL. But it looks like not even Gordon's chilly presence is clouding or diminishing all those protective and warm feelings that Dean has more and more of towards Sam as time goes on…and they seem to be getting less and less inexplicable! The picture is slowly but surely becoming ever clearer for Dean, Sam, and Bobby, but the now the big question is…can they continue to keep Gordon in the dark?
Keep reading to find out…and I'm curious to know, how many of you got update alerts for the last chapter? I updated that Monday afternoon as promised, but I was made aware that a couple of you never got alerts…and I myself had an issue with reviews similarly not being sent to my email, even though they showed up on the main review page. Weird…and there's actually still a little of that going on today, though I finally got the bulk of the reviews this morning around 5AM! Hopefully it's mostly fixed, but just in case, if you depend on these alerts and ever don't get one on a day that you know is an update day for this story? Do try checking the main fic page instead, and blame the site! LOL.
Much gratitude as always to my LLS for the beta and to my readers and reviewers…you guys all rock and I'm so glad you think my story so far does too! Next update will be Friday, and again…hopefully you get an alert for it! LOL. ;-)
