The Nutcracker.
Summary. . . . . . . Whilst trying bring a sick Sam some Christmas cheer, Dean unwittingly places his brother in danger.
Disclaimer. . . . . . Still only loaning from the genius that is Kripkie.
A.N. . . . . . . . Sorry for the wait on this one, I'm working the shift I really hate this week, you go in too early to do anything beforehand, and arrive home so late you just have time to prepare dinner before bed. I hope that you'll forgive me once you've read the content? Catch you soon, Peanut x
Relaxing his aching bones the best he could against the cold metal door of Caleb's truck, watching the monotonous scenery endlessly fly by as the big v6 engine ate up the miles, John bit back the feeling of nausea that arose and thought back to his earlier conversation with the younger hunter. Caleb had reluctantly turned back John's way as his friend asked about his youngest son's health and well being, hating the fact that he would have to pass on news he knew would break John's heart even more. Rubbing a hand over his face and through his closely cropped dark hair, he took a deep breath before replying. "John, I'm so sorry. You received a call, I tried to wake you but you were so far under, so I took the call. It was the police calling from the hospital in your town, they found your number in Dean's belongings as they got him ready for surgery."
"Caleb! Surgery? Why is my son going into surgery? Just what the hell has happened Caleb, what's wrong with Dean, and where is Sammy? Why didn't he call me?"
"John, they didn't go into too much detail after I told them we was on our way, but it seems Dean has to have some work done on one of his arms." Caleb paused before giving John the rest of the news. "John there was some sort of incident at the mall, Sammy was choking so they placed him and Dean in the little first aid room they have, when they came back to check on the boys Dean was bleeding."
"And Sam? Caleb, what the hell has happened to Sam?"
"Sam was gone, John. They said that there were signs of a struggle, but they wont know more until Dean wakes. John, you know no matter what state Dean is in we'll have to get him out of there." Caleb took his eyes off the road for a few seconds as John failed to answer, the sparse streetlights allowing him to see the look of devastation clearly written all over his face. Turning back, and pressing his foot a little harder on the gas, he spoke once again, his tone quiet, yet tinged was malicious intent. "We will find Sam, John. He'll be okay. And we will make whoever took him pay, I promise you."
John though didn't reply, his emotions all over the place as he thought about his baby boy alone and scared out there with god knew what, or who. His innocence, that John had worked so hard to maintain slowly being taken, as he witnessed just how dangerous this world could be. He choked down a sob at the thought that he had failed Mary yet again, one son hurt and in surgery, one son taken and possibly. . . . . . . . . . . . . .He pushed that thought away, unwilling to think that way, Sam would be fine, Sam would be okay; he had to be, otherwise his small family would shatter and disappear into the wind. He ignored the feelings of guilt that threatened to crush him, there would be plenty of time later to wallow in that despair, channeling all his feelings instead into anger, his fury at the one who had done this increasing, and vengeance, at least for now becoming all consuming.
"Caleb." He spoke after a few minutes. "Drive faster!"
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John's own aches and pains were protesting harshly by the time the black ford pulled to a stop outside the emergency room doors, it's tires screeching and throwing up thick smoke as the brakes were slammed on, but he was still opening the door before the truck came to a halt and was pounding the short distance to the automatic doors, the pains forgotten as his need for information arose; his impatience showing as he shoved the doors aside, their slowness stopping him from reaching his child. He stormed up to the information booth, his own bruised features, and stormy look immediately frightening the young girl behind the desk. Seeing that he was frightening her, John altered his features knowing that he would get nowhere if he scared her so much she alerted security. Using a charm he had long since hidden deep behind grief and revenge, he spoke gently, calmly gaining the information he needed before racing for the elevator, taking a quick glance at the dial before deciding it would be quicker to take the stairs, hearing Caleb's boots echoing off the floor as he pushed the door aside.
Both men took the steps three at a time, barely breaking a sweat as they raced up the four flights, dragging open the door at their level and once again storming to the booth that held the knowledge they needed to hear. "My name's John Winchester, I was told my son was here, where is he?"
The nurse, used to distraught parents barely batted an eye, as she quickly checked her screen before responding. "He's in recovery, I need you to fill in some information, if you'd like to take a seat whilst you're doing so, I'll go and see if the surgeons free to speak with you. Also there are two policemen who would like to talk to you too, I'll send them across." With that she passed over some forms before walking away, her shoes squeaking loudly on the polished linoleum.
The police arrived first, at seeing Johns' bruises immediately changing their stance and opinion of the man, their thoughts already wondering if this could be their suspect in the missing case of young Sam Winchester, John's depth of worry and concern for both his children though putting those thoughts at ease. They were halfway through their recount of what they knew when the surgeon arrived, John leaving the police with Caleb as he followed the middle aged man to a separate room, anxiety crushing him as he waited for news about his eldest boy. He chose to stand rather than take the seat that was offered, fidgeting from one foot to the other, waiting for the man to speak, his heart plummeting when he finally did so.
"The injury to your sons arm was extensive, we were worried for a time that he would lose some if not all ability within the limb, the axe slicing deep within Dean's muscle and tissue reaching the bone at some points." John's face blanched as he heard the word axe. "We had to risk the surgery even though his blood pressure was low, and I'm happy to say he made it through without any complications, and is resting in recovery at the moment, once he's been moved to a room you will be allowed to visit him. I will say though that he will have a long recovery ahead of him, a recovery that will at times be especially hard as he loses patience with how slow things progress, he does seem like a strong person though and with time I have no doubt he will regain all movement in the limb. Do you have any questions?"
Still reeling over the fact that Dean had been attacked with an axe, John could only mutely shake his head in reply. "Okay, I need to get back and check on Dean, I'll send someone for you just as soon as he is settled, we will be keeping a very close eye on him for the next few days, he took quite the bump to the head as he fell, so we'll be waking him often just as a precaution. If you do need to ask me anything, have me paged." With that he walked out of the room leaving John alone with his thoughts, the nurse finding him there still stationary when she came to let him know he could see Dean. John following her morosely along to the private room, stepping past her as she held the door open, ignoring her comments about visiting hours, his mind consumed with guilt as he took in the sight of his eldest son, left arm raised and swaddled in bandages, gauze hiding stitches on his forehead, looking very much younger than his age dwarfed by the bed he rested upon.
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The bright light of a nearly full moon spread across the cloudless sky and illuminated the barren landscape below, it's rays picking out the sharp stubble left over from harvested corn that graced the fields that surrounded the dilapidated wooden barn that had once stood so proud, but was now little more than an eyesore as the fields owners had invested in newer sturdier metal ones. Bitingly cold air created by the clear sky whistled through cracks and tears in the wood, to chill the atmosphere inside even more, causing one to tremble all the more, and the other to smile. As he rested and regained the strength he would need to bring his plan to fruition, he watched over the boy, smiling all the more at the sight that befell him. His ministrations had broken the child even further, allowing feelings of failure to rise within the youngster, feelings that he would manipulate to his advantage when the time came.
He switched his mind off even further as the need to regain the strength quicker arose, he wanted this finished, fifty years had been too long. He closed his wooden eyes and became the puppet he was, happy in the knowledge that this time tomorrow, he would be so no longer. As he dreamt of revenge, and riches, and life, Sam lay trembling in a combination of cold and agony, shut off and alone. His fevered mind caught in repeated reruns of the things the nutcracker had done, his chest smarting where the skin had been carved into, his mind numbed by the caresses the wooden hands had administered, and the knowledge of just what was out there, his heart shattered at the words that had been spoken, words that mentioned disappointed fathers, and brothers who no longer loved him; with these thoughts and more running through his head, Sam closed himself off, shut his eyes and dreamt of death.
To Be Continued. . . . . . . . .
A.N. . . . . . . . I hope that you enjoyed, thanks as always for reading, Peanut x
