Three Years Ago

Adam finishes his senior year. He walked across the stage, and felt a little thrill or pride when he sees Bobby waiting for him on the other side. The hunter is grinning like Adam has never seen before. Adam wants to think that graduating high school is not a big deal, but it's hard when Bobby is this happy. If this were really important, he'd have to be disappointed that Dean and John aren't there.

But he's not. He tells himself. He's glad they're hunting, doing something useful.

He accepts his diploma with a smile, and a nod to the audience.

Sam would be so proud.

The thought hits him out of nowhere like a blow that sinks right into his gut. It feels like a panic attack, but he has to move. He stumbles off the stage and back to his seat. He's one of the last to go of course, alphabetically he's been screwed since childhood.

He's nauseated. Sam never graduated, but he'd been accepted to law school. Adam had applied to schools for pre-medicine just to see if he could get in, and he kept the acceptance letters in his duffel. Not as options of course, but just… reminders.

If Sam were here…

Even if he went to college, he'd have come to Adam's graduation. He'd be out in the center of all the parents whooping and clapping. Maybe he'd have a wife or girlfriend…

He barely registers what's happening when he throws his cap and retreats to Bobby's side. The old hunter senses what's wrong, but he smiles and gives Adam a rare hug. "I'm so proud of you, boy."

Adam smiles back. "Thanks Bobby. Thanks for coming."

Bobby drove. Adam had packed before heading out that morning. He only had two duffels. One of clothes and one of books, medical kit, and weaponry. He threw them into Bobby's truck and they set out right after the ceremony, though Bobby had wanted Adam to go to the after party and lock-in at the local arcade.

"It's not really my thing," Adam said.

He didn't want to say goodbye to his friends. He had made more than usual this year, but they would be talking about where they were going and what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. They wouldn't understand.

The drive from Orlando Florida to Sioux Falls, South Dakota was a long one, but Bobby was prepared. He had strapped a cooler of beer into the back of the truck, and had stocked up on road-trip food. Mostly beef jerky, but there were a few sandwiches there too.

They drove to music on the radio, and laughed over stories of Adam as a child.

Adam kept checking his phone, waiting for Dean to call. He knew it was graduation today. He had said he would call, but last Adam had heard, Dean sounded tense, desperate about something. He had refused to admit that anything was wrong, only that he was close to finding their father.

"Still nothing?" Bobby asked.

"No." He worried about his brother and father too much these days. Between John's mysterious disappearance, and Dean's suddenly manic desire to find him, Adam almost couldn't remember how to relax.

They stopped at a park and Bobby got the cooler and a couple of camping chairs. He held a beer out to Adam, who eyed it distastefully. "Come on," Bobby said, exasperated, "We're celebrating!"

Adam laughed ruefully and accepted the bottle. "I wish I had a good influence in my life for a change," he teased.

"You're enough of a saint already, boy."

They toasted and both drank deeply before settling into their seats. Adam picked idly at the label on his bottle, peeling back the paper in long strips. It was peaceful out here. The grass was rough and patched, but the air was cool and heavy, promising a strong rain.

He closed his eyes.

The first few bars of Led Zeppelin's 'Travelling Riverside Blues' screeched from his phone. He fumbled in his pockets while Bobby held his beer for him. "Dean!"

Static answered him. "Dean?"

"It's me."

Adam frowned and straightened, as if John could see him. "Sir?" he asked cautiously. Bobby frowned. So Dean had found their father after all.

The pause was again significant. "Dad?" Adam tried again.

"There was an accident. We're in St. Mary's Hospital Jefferson City, Missouri."

Adam's vision narrowed. Dean. Why wasn't Dean calling? When had it gotten so dark? How much time had they wasted?

"Where's Dean?" he asked breathlessly.

Bobby was packing up, emptying the beers out and folding up the chairs. Still there was silence on the line.

"Dad? Where's Dean?"

"It doesn't look good."

The line went dead.


They were on the road in under a minute.

"Please drive faster." Adam said tersely.

He had his eyes closed, as if that could make the distance smaller. He had a hand clenched around his phone. He couldn't call again. Unless they called him, he wouldn't reach them. It was a ten hour drive to Jefferson City from the park. Thank god they had gotten some distance from Orlando.

Still, Adam hated being so far away from his family. Why had he been so far away? Why had he put his foot down to finishing the year in Orlando? It didn't matter if he finished high school or had to repeat the year further north.

He would be with Dean right now.

Bobby didn't say anything on the drive. He didn't even ask for directions, but seemed to know exactly where they were headed. Adam bent double in an attempt to stop his shaking. He felt so helpless. He didn't know what was happening. He didn't know who or what to fight.

He didn't know if he was going to be too late.

Time passed incredibly slowly. Adam couldn't look at the road, for fear he would see how slowly they were going. He focused on his shoes. The darkness around the car deepened. The engine hummed underneath them, a constant, reassuring grumble.

Led Zeppelin shattered the sickening calm. Adam snapped the phone open and up to his ear.

"Adam," it was John.

"Dad, what's happened?"

"It's going to be okay Adam." John was eerily calm. That did nothing to slow Adam's pounding heart.

"Dean? How's Dean?" he asked urgently.

"He'll be fine."

Adam drew in a ragged breath. He was so relieved he couldn't find the words to thank a god or question his father. John seemed to understand anyway.

"I love you," he said gruffly.

"Love you too, dad," Adam said. He wiped a shaky hand across his face and let out a huff of hysterical laughter. "Bobby and I are on our way. We'll be there around dawn."

There was a harsh, ragged sound that Adam couldn't immediately recognize. He flinched away from the static. It took him a moment to realize his father had let out a breath like a sob.

"Dad?" he asked.

The line went dead.


John (3 Years ago)

In the hospital's boiler room, John finished the chalk circle. He said his incantations quickly, his hands steady over the candles and black bowl. He slid a knife across his palm, draining it into the bowl. Finally he lit the match and drops it in. The sand flared brightly, then extinguished.

He stood. Looking around for the demon.

A hand shot out of the darkness, clenching on his shoulder.

John spun around to see an angry looking security guard. "What the hell are you doing here, buddy?" the stranger asked.

John pulled the colt from the shadows. "How stupid do you think I am?"

The demon's eyes glowed. "You really want an answer to that?"

Two possessed men stalked from the darkness on either side of the standoff and took positions behind John.

"You conjuring me, John? I took you for a lot of things, but suicidal wasn't one of them. Shouldn't be surprised really, runs in the family I guess."

"I could always shoot you," John said evenly. Don't let it shake you. It doesn't matter.

"You could always miss." It laughed. "And you've only got one try. Did you think you could trap me?" It tutted patronizingly.

"Oh," John shook his head, "I don't want to trap you."

He lowered the gun. "I want to make a deal."

The demon's eyes narrowed, now truly surprised. A smile was slow to spread across his features. The four of them were standing in a circle around the summoning symbol.

"It's unseemly, making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?" the demon asked.

"It's no trick," John said grimly, "I will give you the Colt and the bullet, but you've got to help Dean. You've got to bring him back."

"Why, John. So sentimental! Where was this side of you when poor little Sammy got sucked into hell?"

John had been expecting something like this, but it still shook him to the core. "You're lying." He said.

"The demon's eyes glittered in the half darkness. "Am I? We all know where suicides go. And we both know what else he was meant to be. Who can forget little Sammy at the arrival's gate? Delicious boy, and a Winchester, you know we needed one of those around the place."

"Take the trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do Dean."

"Don't be so sure. He killed some people very special to me," for a moment, anger did play around the demon's face, but the expression was soon forced away. "Still, you're right. He isn't much of a threat. But aren't you going to deal for Sammy? I'll throw him in the bargain, free of charge."

John lowered his head and clenched his hand around the grip of his weapon.

"Oh," the demon whispered maliciously, "that's harsh. So you knew the truth about Sammy? And the other… candidates?"

"Yes."

"I'm almost tempted to go animate him right now, see if you can bring yourself to end him all over again. That's entertainment. You must have been so relieved when he ate that bullet, I wonder if your boys know how much you hated and feared Sammy."

"Can you bring Dean back? Yes or no?"

"No."

John deflated, for once he felt uncertain. Those comments about Sammy had felt like punches to the gut. He had thought—

"But I know someone who can. Let's deal, John Winchester."


Adam (3 years ago)

They had driven all night, and still they had arrived too late. Dean was awake and walking around despite the doctor's earnest directives for him to stay in bed. Adam had no focus for anything else. He slammed into Dean with a hug like a bear trap.

"You bastards," he sobbed into Dean's jacket, "You goddamn fuckers."

"Sorry," Dean said. His voice was ragged and monotone, but he was hugging back almost painfully. They hung like that for a few minutes before Bobby found them. Dean pulled away first.

Adam wiped a hand over his face. "Where is he?" he asked.

Dean shrugged. "The morgue. We'll get him out of here before the insurance turns up red flags."

Adam frowned. Dean looked different. He had kept a hand on Adam's shoulder, and the grip he had was crushing. "What happened?"

"Dad dealt. For me."

Bobby sucked in a breath, and Adam felt a foundation of his life crumble away to dust. Dad was dead.

But Dean was alive.

"What do we do now?" he asked breathlessly.

Dean looked down at him, his expression unreadable. "We hunt down the sonofabitch that killed our parents."

"Did he say anything?" Bobby asked at last, still standing in the doorway.

Dean turned to him. "Yeah," he said, "but it doesn't matter now."


NOW

"I'm the antichrist," Sam said, "And dad wants to kill me."

He felt strangely detached. Yes. It made sense. It felt right. He wanted to be sick. His stomach hurt with the effort to hold down what little breakfast he had managed to swallow that morning. They had gone way past the half hour John had allotted them, but did that matter? Did anything matter?

"No," Dean said angrily. They had ended up sitting on the curb by the motel room because Sam's legs had been too weak to keep him upright. He felt lightheaded. "You're just a vessel, and Dad just thinks he might have to kill you. He didn't know about the seals… or maybe he did. But he doesn't know what you'll become."

"Some kind of demonic… vampire soldier."

"Not every Yellow-eyes kid drank demon blood. Most of the ones we met had no idea there was anything supernatural going on in the world besides… you know… their powers. It's only after Dad died that we started to see them juiced up. Most were just good people that got corrupted by demons."

"But they did go bad. The ones you found."

Dean hesitated. Sam felt the silent affirmation. "They had reasons, Sammy."*

And I don't?


*Not including Andy in this. RIP Andy.

PS. Sorry again for a stagnant chapter. Needed to put some backdrop for what Sam's gonna do next.