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.
Chapter Nine:
Then:
'Dean?' Sam's quiet voice finally broke through Dean's morose reverie and he finally looked up at his baby brother. 'Say something please Dean.'
'Ah Sammy we're gonna work this out I promise,' Dean said trying to sound as positive as he could, 'anyway for all we know it might have just been a one off thing?'
'It happened with Bobby and Rufus I couldn't stop it.' Sam said with a soft sigh, 'and with Cal I can feel it pulling me already to heal him.'
'Don't you frigging dare Sam, you are to stay away from him and anyone who's injured.' Dean snapped. 'I mean it Sam.'
'Okay I – I don't know how to stop it though Dean.' Sam lifted his tainted green eyes towards his brother and was still able to give him the full on puppy dog stare complete with unshed tears.
'Dammit Sammy!'
Now:
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus; and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
(Julius Caesar 1.2.135)
S—D
The heavy mantle of midnight hung over the quiet compound; the sentries marked their places and kept time with each other as they prowled the perimeters, weapons at the ready and eyes sharp for intruders but for now it was silent and still.
Flasks of coffee substitute sat at each station hot and sustaining for them as the chill of the witch's hour also brought about the frostiness of dawn. Their eyes trained for any disturbance outside the fences and buildings none took notice of the lone figure trudging through the complex. Moving slow but determinably towards the objective of the hunt; not a prey or victim but the one in need of help; there was no sound heard or movement seen but he made his way with a resoluteness of a soldier on the front line.
He knew that Dean had Caleb moved from the main medical unit to another part of the complex in a bid to separate him from Sam's need to heal. This latest gift was terrifying as it was miraculous; Sam had virtually brought his father back from death and had healed Rufus and Bobby with just a touch of his hand; but it was killing Sam.
In a perverted twist of fate the gift of returning life to others was taking directly from Sam's life force. Unable to stop himself Sam had to be physically pulled away from anyone he came across with an injury. That very morning while getting some breakfast, Sam felt himself drawn to a hunter who had just come in with a bullet wound to the upper arm. It was just a flesh wound with the bullet passing straight through the fleshy part of his upper arm and it took only a handful of seconds for Sam to heal him, leaving the young hunter/psychic weak and bleeding from his nose and eyes. As quickly as Dean could he got him out of the dining room only for Sam to collide into another man as they rounded a corner. The man had sprained an ankle while on patrol and was back in command for two weeks light duties. The collision caught Sam unaware and he found himself healing the injured joint before he or Dean could stop it. The rest of the day Sam had spent in bed, suffering from shock, exhaustion and a migraine like he had never had before. His heart had started to race and his blood pressure shot up exponentially, terrifying not only himself but his family as well.
With Caleb still so ill and close to death Dean took matters into his own hands and had him shifted to another part of the complex where the doctors had easier access to him and there was less chance of infection from contact with the others. It was better for both his friend and for his brother but it killed Dean to make such a decision. Sam was depressed already and for him to find out he couldn't have contact with Caleb or anyone who had any type of injury or illness. One of Sam's greatest fears was to be alone, and this so-called gift was feeding that and other fears he had.
Moving in a trance-like state Sam used the walls to keep himself upright and as a guide the urge to heal held him hostage inside his own body; his own mind. 'Gotta find him … Dean help me please … find him.' Sam whispered but no one came to help him as he was inexorably drawn to where Caleb lay.
S—D
John sipped his morning coffee and stood staring out his office window, he knew it was a bad habit and one that he should break because he was making himself a target for any sniper out there but it was one of the few things that held some normalcy for him in this shitty world.
More so now than ever before; after having a demon riding inside of him and trying to destroy the fragile relationship he had maintained with the boys especially Sam, John felt the need to take each chance of embracing life he was given. 'Life given,' he snorted and took another long sip, 'my own son gave me my life back and I tried to kill him.'
The guilt weighed heavily on John's shoulders and was the cause of his constant headaches and tight chest. Even though the doctor had given him a clean bill of health; John knew that these were reminders that will never go away or heal. Yes, his heart is still beating and yes he can think and act freely but there were consequences and remnants that will be his cross to bear.
'Ah Mary you'd be so proud of our baby boy,' he smiled gently and pressed his hand against the frosted glass, his gaze fixed on a face only he could see, 'he saved me Mary, he saved my life and all I ever do is …'
'Hush John don't do this to yourself, Sam loves you and he willingly helped you just as Dean would've done if he was in Sam's place.'
'I certainly haven't been father of the year lately, this war Mary it's taking more and more from my soul … I don't know how much more I can give without…'
'Don't do this to yourself John, the boys both love you and know that you're in a position few envy. But think of the alternative John … what would have happened if you hadn't been here to take charge. Your military and hunting backgrounds … very few have both experiences and are as good as you. Trust your own instincts John they are seldom wrong.'
'They were wrong about our boy Mary, they were wrong about Sam.'
'No they weren't, they were corrupted into your thinking that they were … deep down you know you have never doubted Sam or Dean. I have watched you over the years, I know the sacrifice you made John no one else knows but I do…'
'How Mary, I have never told a living soul … yeah I know you're not living but my God Mary you are a beautiful soul living or not.'
'Flatterer! You always knew just the right thing to say to me John.'
'And yet I always screw up when I try to say anything to the boys especially Sam.' John sighed and leant his aching forehead against the coolness of the glass, 'gonna be a nice day today Mary … heavy frosts.'
A discrete cough behind him made John swear and slop the last of his coffee as he twisted around to see who his intruder was, 'what is it Singer?'
'And morning to you too,' Bobby groused as he went over to the side board and poured himself a cup of coffee, 'want a refill?'
'Yeah why not … the boys up yet?' John sat down at his desk and stared unseeingly at the pile of papers Bobby had dropped when he had come in. 'What's all of this?'
'The usual shit, welcome back Commander,' Bobby said as he gave his friend a grin and pulled out a small flask from his pocket, 'need some flavouring?'
'You have to ask?' John countered returning Bobby's grin, 'so you didn't say … the boys up yet?'
'Dunno, haven't seen Dean yet which means he's either sound asleep or he's annoying his brother.'
'Wrong again Bobby,' Dean said as he limped into his father's office, 'I'm on the hunt for coffee and for a certain little brother.'
'Sam's not with you?' John dropped the papers and gave his eldest son his full attention, 'have you checked the bathrooms?'
'Yeah and the mess and .,..'
'Infirmary?' Bobby asked, watching as the realisation simultaneously hit both Winchesters, 'the idjits gone to heal Caleb.'
'Son of bitch!' Dean yelled, 'he didn't even know I had Cal shifted or to where and yet he's gone to heal him…'
'Calm down Dean, going off isn't going to help anyone, including yourself,' John ordered although all of his fatherly instincts screamed at him to run and to search for Sam there and then. 'Has he said any more to you about this Healing gift?'
'Yeah he said that … it's like being pulled against his will towards whoever is injured or sick. That the need to heal overrides anything and everything but each time he heals,' Dean ran his hands over his face, scrubbing tiredly at his eyes, 'each time he heals it's like a piece of him dies in order to do it … the healing is literally taking from his life force.'
'It's killing him in other words,' John finished for Dean and in a very similar manner he too ran his hands over his face as he tried to come to terms with the news himself. 'We're not losing Sam now or anytime soon, where did you put Caleb?'
'In the west wing closer to the Doctor's quarters, I figured it would be easier all around for the Doc and far enough away from Sam, damn it obviously I was wrong.'
'That's enough Dean, no one's to blame hell we have no idea where this so-called gift or curse has come from.'
'You two idjits go and git him, I'm gonna start lookin' into this Healing business,' Bobby said taking John's seat behind the desk, 'well whatcha standin' around for? Hoping to git better looking? Sorry but that boat left years ago for the both of ya.'
'Oh so funny Singer, don't get too comfortable will ya,' John said as he downed his coffee and grabbed his jacket, 'I'm not gonna be long,'
'jist keepin' it warm for ya, now git!' Bobby pulled some large books out of a bag no one had noticed he had before this and started to make meticulous notes.
The Winchesters shared an incredulous look and then left the older man to his research they had one errant younger member of their family to wrangle.
S—D
Caleb opened his eyes and yawned, stretching his felt lazy but well enough to get up and to for a run if he felt like it but for now he was content in lying in the warm bed and enjoying the comfort.
'What the hell is going on?' he said as he sat up and stared around, 'ahh fuck it Sam please tell me you didn't…' Caleb added when he looked down and found Sam on the floor and slumped against the bed, twin tracks of red ran down his chin and throat staining his ratty looking T-shirt. 'Sam come on buddy wake up for me.'
Climbing out of the bed, Caleb ignored the chill of the floor and crouched down next to the younger man where he could give him a close looking-over. At first glance it appeared that Sam was only sleeping, but there was no reaction to his voice or to his touch, the kid was out cold.
Shivering slightly Caleb jumped up and found a robe to put on and then went back to lift Sam onto the bed and cover him with the blankets; making sure that Sam was at least warm and comfortable the now healed hunter hurried over to the door and started to yell for help, not wanting to leave Sam alone for any amount of time even a few seconds.
'Hey Doc can you get in here now!' Caleb yelled again and then on hearing some footsteps running towards his room, he went back in and perched himself on the bed, he pressed the back of his hand against Sam's forehead and felt the beginnings of a fever prickling his skin. 'Doc need ya in here now.' He said again as he turned and watched the door expectantly.
'Sam?' Doctor Richard Hicks ran into the room closely followed by Nurse Debbie Flynn, they had left the clinic when a second wave of demonic soldiers came through mindlessly destroying and killing anything that they came across. They killed indiscriminately ripping apart bodies and leaving the pieces where they fell. There was no reasoning, no battle plans, and no logic just mindless and senseless slaughter of any remaining humans.
Rick and Debbie were able to escape barely, the clinic providing the creatures with enough prey to keep them occupied. His heart filled with remorse and guilt Rick tried to euthanise as many as he could before they left. The few who were bed ridden, elderly and young, he gave them a chance to die with dignity and in peace rather than to face the monsters and their brutality.
With others joining them as they travelled Rick and Debbie followed the maps towards the Hunter's command post and to safety. Dean had slipped the doctor a note authorising him and giving him entry to the compound if he ever needed it. It took them close to a month to travel on foot, hiding mostly at night and travelling during the day when the monsters seemed to sleep. By the time the group had arrived at the command clearing centre their numbers had grown to twenty two, seventeen adults, three children and two babies, one baby born on the way. Leaving their charges at the clearing centre the doctor and nurse immediately went to work at the main command centre, both kept busy with the steady influx of injured soldiers and hunters. Suddenly they had become military medics and sworn into service.
'Sorry Doc but who are you?' Caleb asked moving to stand protectively in front of Sam, 'where's Doctor Morton?'
'He's delivering a baby at the clearing centre, you got me I'm Doctor Richard Hicks but you can call me …'
'Rick!' Dean said as he limped forward and greeted the doctor, 'didn't think I'd see you again.'
'Same here Dean, we got attacked again this time it was … anyway here I am and ready to see Sam again.'
'Sam?' Dean stepped up next to Caleb, clapped his friend on the shoulder and then gave his younger brother his full attention. 'Oh God Sammy what have ya done kiddo?'
'Sorry Dean I didn't even know…'
'Aint your fault Cal,' Dean said without looking up, 'has he woken up yet?'
'Nope not yet,' Caleb said as he moved out of Rick's way and down to his commanding officer, 'John … Sir I …'
'Relax Caleb and it's good to see you up and moving again my friend.' John said gripping Caleb's forearm, in the age old warrior's greeting, 'and don't apologise, you wouldn't have had any choice in the matter even if you knew what was happening.'
'What's going on with … oh Sam's healing ability?' Caleb asked as he returned his attention to his young friend, 'is he going to be alright?'
'Yeah I'm sure of it,' John said after a slight hesitation that said so much more than any words.
S—D
'What's going on Dean?' Rick asked as he continued his examination of Sam, 'Deb can you get me his BP and pulse?'
'Yes Doctor,' Debbie said as she forced herself not to notice the handsome brothers Winchester and the semi-naked young man unconscious on the bed, even ill and still suffering from previous abuse he was … beautiful.
'Long story short Doc, after we left you Sam was kidnapped and held hostage by one of the boss demons, he also had dad and the others,' Dean explained succinctly, 'we're not sure how or why but Sam was either given or developed a Healing ability … like a physical empathy I guess, if he is near anyone sick or injured he has to heal them. He healed dad after he was clinically dead from injuries and heart failure, Bobby and Rufus after torture … but every time he heals someone … it's killing him slowly but surely. We tried to separate him from Caleb … not that we wanted Caleb to …'
'I didn't want him to heal me anyway Doc, I saw what it did to him with the others and tried to … he still found me somehow I woke up and found him slumped against the bed, freezing cold but he still felt hot to the touch.'
Rick listened intently as he worked, his mind racing with trying to comprehend everything and trying to work out his best treatment for Sam. 'Deb can you go and check to see if there's some fever reducer or anything we can use to help bring Sam's temp down?'
'Certainly Doctor, do you want me to bring in an IV kit?'
'Yep and set up a saline solution for now, we have to get some fluids into him,' Rick said sounding a little distracted as he listened to Sam's chest, 'does he have the nose bleeds often?'
'Mainly after he has a vision, does a healing actually anything to do with psychic stuff,' Dean said in answer when no one else including his father offered any information. 'What's wrong Rick?'
'His chest sounds a little congested, but considering everything else …'
'Whatcha saying is … Sam's got a cold?' Dean almost laughed, 'after everything else Sam has picked up just an ordinary old chest cold?'
'Seems like it,' Rick said understanding Dean's amusement, 'as funny as it seems yep it sure does seem like it.'
'Dang it all kiddo you sure do things all the way,' Dean shook his head in disbelief and chanced a quick glance at his father, 'he's got a cold Dad, a simple run of the mill cold.'
'Damn Sammy.' John muttered and shook his head in disbelief, he was prepared for some earth-shattering, life-threatening, bizarre and cruel disease or injury caused by whatever the demon did to Sam, but his biggest hurdle is a common chest cold.
'Although there can be complications, Sam needs rest more than anything and plenty of liquids along with some paracetamol for his low-grade fever and the aches and pains usually associated with a cold.' Rick said as he stood up and turned to face the infamous John Winchester. 'Any questions before I keep going with Sam's examination?'
After answering a couple more questions from John about Sam's current health issues Rick returned to his patient and finished his examination. Aside from some mucous on his tonsils Sam's throat had healed nicely, and the swelling and bruising were nearly all back to within normal. The bruise on his chest had now faded to a mottled greenish-yellow and the sponginess around the broken ribs was gone. He was definitely on the mend, aside from the cold and effects from this latest healing.
He had already heard what had happened with John and Sam before his meeting the boys and then with what happened after the boys had left the clinic but he hadn't been told anything specific including about the visions or the healing. His patient was certainly a unique young man.
While Debbie set up the IV and fussed over Sam a little more Rick took the time to give Caleb an exam and cleared him for active duty, and then he moved on to check Dean and John making sure that they were all as healthy as they could be given the circumstances under which they all lived.
S—D
Two Days Later:
Sam sat up in his own bed with a novel open on his lap and a tiny sliver of drool escaped from the corner of his mouth as he napped; napping had become his favourite pastime lately, or so it seemed. Outwardly he appeared to be happy and relaxed but Dean knew his brother too well and knew that Sam was hiding the truth. His little brother was hurting and suffering from deep depression and who could blame him? Aside from his doctor, Debbie the nurse, his dad, Dean and Bobby no one else was allowed in the room with him. At first it was to contain his cold as much as possible but now it was to protect him from the need to heal.
'Sam, hey Sammy you in there?' Dean tapped his brother's cheek lightly, he was determined that Sam was not going to wallow in his depression for much longer. 'Come on dude wakey, wakey I'm bored.'
'De-Dean what is it?' Sam mumbled and irritably swiped at his brother's hand, 'go 'way.'
'Sorry no can do dude, I'm bored.' Dean said as he once again started to pat Sam's cheek.
'Go and annoy dad then.'
'Nope he's in a meeting with the head honchos, come on Sam please,' he whined a small knowing grin forming as he watched Sam start to wake up and smile despite himself. 'Feel like getting outta here?'
'Out? How? I can't go near anyone…'
'Hang on before you go all emo on me again …' Dean said cutting into his brother's excuses, 'I have these supa-doopa gloves for ya to try, I figure if you wear your sleeves down and all of your normal layers and these gloves then the chance of you having skin to skin contact is down to a minimum.'
'But the healing forces me too…'
'Yeah well I've been thinking bout that too, what if the doc can give ya something just enough to keep ya calm and relaxed but not enough to knock ya out or zombiefy ya or anything.'
'There's no such word as zombiefy Dean.'
'Yeah well there is now,' Dean pouted for a second and then grinned again, 'so whatcha think wanna give it a go?'
'Why not,' Sam nodded, 'you be with me?'
'All the way dude.'
An hour later they had Sam up and dressed, with his normal layers of T-shirts, shirts and topped off with a hoodie, his jeans, thick socks and boots and leather gloves he felt like a turkey trussed up for Thanksgiving dinner but at least he was able to get out.
'I'm gonna swelter in all of this.' He grumbled lightly.
'Dude you wear this stuff no matter what time of year,' Dean countered the argument, 'so where do you want to go Princess?'
'Anywhere but here,' Sam finally smiled showing off his deep dimples; he was finally getting a chance to break free.
S—D
Dean and Sam stood and stared at the non-descript looking van in front of them, 'so your chariot awaits Princess.' Dean quipped although his mirth didn't reach his eyes.
'Where's the 'pala?' Sam cried out upset at the thought that their only home was no more.
'Calm down dude, dad and I discussed our outing today and we thought it was better if we didn't attract any unwanted attention for your first time out since well …'
'Dean no … not if …'
'Listen doofus I agree with dad, anyway they'd be looking for the Impala so while we're out and about Bobby said that he's gonna personally give her a service and repair a few things. It's a win, win for me anyway I get to get outta here with you in shotgun and mah baby gets some serious pandering too.'
'Dean you are …' Sam said laughing aloud his eyes shining brightly, 'you are too funny and…'
'Okay enough yucks do ya wanna go or wanna stand there and laugh all day?'
'Go, totally go.' Sam hiccupped back his last few chuckles and climbed into the shotgun seat. 'You coming or what?'
S—D
'What the hell?' Dean exclaimed as a small spear seemingly flew towards their windscreen; easing his foot down on the brake he expertly manhandled the van off the road and onto the shoulder. He followed a track for a while taking them safely off-road and hidden under the trees from any aerial spies. Another spear came whistling through the air and landed harmlessly a few feet away from the van. 'What the hell is going on?'
'Ah Dean over there,' Sam pointed out his window where a line of shadowy figures started; one by one they became surrounded. 'What do you think is going on?'
"Dunno but it's not gonna go on for much longer,' Dean grumbled annoyed at their drive being interrupted.
A whoop and high-pitched war-cry filled the now silent area followed by a shower of homemade arrows and spears, none of them lethal but could do some injury if anyone was unlucky enough to be hit.
'Now wait just a minute!' Dean declared as he climbed out of the van and took on an imposing stance, 'who the hell are you and why are you firing on us?'
'We kill all demons!' a young voice yelled over the din of cheering, whooping and cat-calls.
'Yeah well so do we!' Dean answered his voice rising slightly; he was getting more than angry now.
'Dean!' Sam called his brother for the third time before climbing out of the van and appearing at his brother's side, 'Dean!'
'Get back in the van Sammy I've got this,' Dean ordered annoyed at his brother for leaving the safety of the vehicle.
'Dean look … they're kids, they're all … kids.' Sam said as he pointed at the group surrounding them.
'What the hell?' Dean muttered as he squinted at them his temper rising even more, 'what the hell are kids doing out here firing on us with homemade arrows and spears?'
'Dunno but … Dean we gotta help em dude.' Sam said determinedly.
'Sam no, no we don't. All we gotta do is get you some rest and relaxation and then get back to the compound before dark.'
'Hey we're the ones who have you prisoners.' One of the young people called out as haughtily as he could.
'Yeah you and whose army?' Dean yelled back earning a swipe on his shoulder from Sam.
'Dude!'
'Dean please,' Sam pulled out a full on puppy pout and eyes, 'we have to help them, they're just kids.'
Heaving a big sigh and sounding as put upon as he could without giving away anything Dean threw his brother an annoyed look as he moved closer to their "captors".
'I'm Dean Winchester …'
'Winchester … Winchester … Winchester … Winchester …' the kids surrounding them repeated their surname in a loop of hushed reverence, 'ahhh Winchesters.'
'Youse be really Winchesters?' A boy of no more than fourteen or fifteen asked stepping forward to meet Dean and Sam.
'Yeah I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam … who and what are you?'
'I be Callum commander of the twenty-eighth brigade and these be my men.'
'How old are you Callum?' Sam asked curiosity thick in his voice.
'I be fifteen next birth day … what consequence be that?' Callum asked frowning he turned to stare up at Sam, 'how old be you?'
'Older than you … we both are and mind who you're addressing, we're both superiors to you and your cough men.' Dean answered narrowing his eyes with suspicion as he regarded Callum and then the others.
'Sir,' Callum admitted grudgingly before snapping to attention and saluting his superior officers, 'we be traispin' for days and days and days. Fightin' and hidin' … we did lose those who fell aside.'
Dean glanced up at his brother and then back to the teenage leader, standing an inch shorter than Dean, Callum had a stocky build but was so starved a strong wind would blow him over, his sandy coloured hair was long and unkempt pulled back into an untidy ponytail with a knotted leather strap. His piercing blue eyes were disarming when he stared directly into anyone's eyes, as though he could see right through into the depths of the person's soul. 'So Quarterback where have ya'll come from?' Dean asked and returned the salute while smiling to himself when Callum blushed at being called a Quarterback.
Sam watched and listened to the discussion forming between his brother and Callum, a chill ran down his spine as he realised that Callum was only two years younger than him. He let his gaze drift from one to another, they were all around the same age, the youngest possibly twelve and Callum seemed to be the eldest or perhaps he was the most experienced fighter in the group either way the small band of teenage warriors followed his every lead without hesitation. Dad would just love you guys, the thought came unbidden and for some reason saddened the youngest of the Winchester men.
'We's come from all abouts, mainly from Nevada an' Colorado way.' Callum said still watching them with an air of suspicion, 'we's got a camp back a ways.'
'Where are you headed?' Sam asked his voice softer than Dean's but carried just as loudly, 'this is dangerous territory.'
'We want to join up with the Hunter Elite.' Callum said as he squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest a little more. Dean had to bite back a chuckle when he took in the kid and saw a little of himself in him at the same age.
'Don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up kid.' He growled lightly.
'Most of us have been in more battles than birthin' days.' Callum said pride bright in his blue eyes, 'Luka there he lost his brothers and his left hand in the Chicago skirmishes, was his tenth battle and he's thirteen. Max he's twelve and the bastards took his tongue 'fore we could get him back,' Callum went to go on with his litany of injuries and atrocities his team had suffered at the hands of the demonic armies from the pits but Dean had already heard more than he wanted.
'How about you guys climb into the van and we take ya back to yer camp?' Dean asked, the surprised looks quickly morphed into ones of borderline bliss as they settled into the vehicle; Dean felt his heart prickle and constrict as he watched them, a simple ride was bliss to them and it broke his hardened hunter's heart.
'You okay Dean?' Sam asked watching his older brother carefully.
'M'fine Sammy, how bout you? You dealing okay with them?'
'Me? Yeah m'fine,' Sam repeated the stock-standard Winchester response to health questions, 'honestly I am there's no really strong pull so far, I can control it Dean.' Sam assured him. Satisfied finally Dean nodded and started the van, 'okay Callum where to?'
S—D
After driving for nearly half an hour Callum directed Dean off the road and then down a winding stretch hugging sheer cliffs tightly. Even with his expert handling of the van, Dean was cursing the falling rocks and rubble littering the dirt track passing miserably for a road.
'Stop here Dean,' Callum said and then jumped out of the van before it came to a complete stop, with a quick glance around him Callum crept towards what appeared to be a dead end, filled with fallen trees and branches, rocks and others large pieces of debris. Suddenly, the largest of the trees moved smoothly to the sides, and then within minutes the road was clear. Grinning Callum ran back to the van and stood on the foot-hole on the driver's side door and held the mirror tightly, 'okay drive on through Dean.'
After passing through the barricade Callum directed Dean to a small clearing surrounded by trees and a small watering hole. Pulling up next to the water Dean and Sam waited for all of the kids to pile out before they got out behind them.
'It's alright it's the Winchester brothers.' Callum announced and gradually more faces appeared, by the time they had finished coming out of hiding Sam had counted thirty two children, roughly aged from eleven to fourteen.
'Are there any adults amongst you?' Sam asked peering at the sea of faces surrounding them, he had never felt so much like a giant before as he did right there and then; he actually towered over the children. He was the same height as Dean now and with the aches and pains he had in his legs and arms from time to time he knew that he was still growing; much to his older brother's dismay.
'Just be us Sir,' Callum answered succinctly, 'we has no grown-nups left.'
'Where are they?' Sam asked his empathy growing and he could feel that now familiar tug on his emotions and his reserves of strength. 'What happened to them?'
'Mostly died in battle or they got Croats.' The boy Callum had called Luka piped up, 'they's deaded fast with Croats.'
The soft mewls of an infant made both Dean and Sam run towards the sound; they both paled and felt sick when they saw the young mother trying to suckle a malnourished and dying baby. 'Callum?' Dean turned ready to yell at the teen-leader for allowing it to happen in his platoon when he saw the tears running down the kid's face.
'This here is Tess an' her bub … we's rescued her from the demons and then she dropped the bub a few days later. Didn't know what tah do but what else could we do?' Callum looked up at the Winchesters as though they had all of the answers for him and the others. That they could fix it all.
'Dean?' Sam's pain-filled utterance of his name brought Dean out of his temporary stupor, 'Dean I – I have too…'
'No, no Sam it'll kill ya.'
'No … no I'm stronger now and I think I can control it,' Sam looked down at the stricken baby and realised it was no longer crying. Without another word he dropped the gloves on the ground and moved towards the mother and child. His movements jerky and uncoordinated
Sam dropped to his knees, without feeling the pain of the impact or from his still healing injuries. His entire body, mind and soul were focused solely on healing the pitiful sight in front of him. With a shaking hand he reached out and tentatively placed it on the baby a gasp of pain and shock slipped from his lips and all he could see was the small boy and his puppy who had died in front of them not so long ago. He couldn't help them but this time, steeling his flagging resolve Sam lifted his hand from the baby's head and placed his palm on the mother's forehead. Glassy eyes fixed on his face and her lips moved soundlessly as he allowed whatever it was to flood through his hand and into her body, infusing her with warmth and healing.
Dean and the others all stood back shielding their eyes as the brightness became too much for them, impatiently he tried to get near his brother but the intensity of the light and heat pushed him back again and utterly distraught all he could do was wait it out.
Finally, the light was gone as quickly as it came and in its wake laid the young girl and her baby both looking healthier and relaxed. Next to them laid Sam, his hand still lying across the baby's leg. His skin was so pale it appeared transparent contrasted with the deep ruby red of his blood staining his upper lip, chin, and throat before soaking into the collar of his hoodie.
Dean held his own breath and watched Sam's chest, only releasing it when he saw the slight rise and fall. Sam was still alive, the aftermath of such an event was still to be seen but for now Dean was content with the fact that his brother was still alive.
'Wha' … what jist 'appened?' Callum asked his wild gaze flying from Dean to Sam to Tess to the baby and then back to Dean, 'Dean wha' did he do?'
'Saved their lives … Sam's a touch empath he can heal people with his touch.' Dean said deciding on the simplest explanation of the truth and it sounded less incriminating than anything else.
'But, but why does he look so … dead?'
'Coz it takes a lot out of him, the sicker or more hurt they are the more it hurts Sam,' Dean said although his words carried no heat or accusation; he had to keep the children calm around them for Sam's sake, his brother was too vulnerable right now for conflicts of any kind.
'Wow, he be a miracle worker.' The children whispered all in awe of what had happened and suddenly Dean found himself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity. Choking back a sob and a giggle Dean dropped down next to his brother and tugged until his brother's head was resting comfortably on his lap. Deep down Dean knew that they both needed the physical contact between them, silently he offered Sam his own strength and begged him to take it, to heal himself just as he had healed the young mother and her baby.
'Shit you certainly can pick em Sammy that's for sure!'
TBC
