Thanks to Gredelina1 for holding my hand while I was working on this chapter and for having the first read of it and telling me it was good.
Chapter Ten
Dean ran up the porch steps and hammered on the closed door. Castiel came behind him, brow furrowed with concern.
"Missouri! Sam! Open up!"
It was early, not even dawn yet, but he didn't care; he had to see Sam now. There was no time to lose. He had to get to Sam before Lucifer did.
He heard the bolts disengaging and the door opened to reveal Missouri dressed in a high-necked bathrobe. "Dean?"
"I need to see Sam," he said quickly, pushing past her and into the house. "Where is he?"
"He's sleeping. What's happened."
Dean didn't answer her. He raced up the stairs and into the room he had used when he'd stayed here, expecting to see Sam stretched out on the bed. But it was empty. The sheets were pulled tight with corners only Sam would bother with. He knew as soon as he saw the empty room that Sam was gone, but that didn't stop him searching the rest of the second floor for him.
"Dean!" Missouri's voice came from down the stairs and he raced down into the kitchen to see her standing with a sheet of paper in her hand.
"It's from Sam," she said, holding it out.
Dean couldn't make himself take it. The last time he'd read a missive from his brother it had been the letter he wrote after he'd made the deal. Scared of what he would find if he read this one, he crossed his arms over his chest. "What did he say?"
"That he's grateful for her help but he can't stay," Castiel said, reading the letter over Missouri's shoulder.
"That's it?" Dean asked. "He doesn't say where he's going?"
Castiel shook his head. "It is a very brief note."
Dean cursed.
"What's happening?" Missouri asked.
"Sam's in trouble," Dean said. "What happened when he was here? Was there anything that might have made him run?"
She shook her head and then faltered. "Maybe. Pamela came to see him."
"What did she do to him?"
"Nothing really. They just talked.
Dean raked a hand through his hair. "And what did she say?"
Missouri shook her head. "I can't tell you, Dean. That's down to him to say.
"What the hell! Is this some sort of psychic/patient confidentiality?"
Dean usually spoke to Missouri with more respect, but his fear for Sam was paramount. The fact she knew something but was refusing to say had Dean pissed. Sam was his brother. If anyone had a right to know what was going on, it was him,
"I know that's what you think, Dean," Missouri said softly. "But it's not what I believe. I have to respect Sam's privacy."
"Can you stay out of my head?" he said curtly.
She looked downcast and Dean felt a pang of guilt that he quickly stuffed down.
"Is there anything that was said that can be of assistance?" Castiel asked.
"Perhaps. Pamela told Sam he had to get back to the life. When he said he couldn't, she told him to make a new life."
And that could have led Sam anywhere, Dean thought, including Detroit.
"What's in Detroit?" Missouri asked.
Dean ignored the question and asked one of his own. "Do you have any idea where he might be going?"
"No, only…" She looked thoughtful. "He's not close anymore. I could feel his pain before, and now it's gone."
Dean turned to Castiel. "Take me back to Bobby's. Maybe he's heard something."
They left Missouri behind in her kitchen and arrived a moment later in the library at Bobby's. Bobby was nowhere in sight, nor was Sam, and Dean felt his fear ratchet up another level.
"Bobby!" he bellowed.
He heard movement above them and then heavy footfalls on the stairs. Bobby looked half asleep as he came into the room but he stiffened and became instantly alert when he saw Dean's obvious panic.
"What's happened? Is it Lucifer?"
"It's Sam," Dean said. "Though the two are interchangeable now."
Bobby paled. "He said yes?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. I don't know."
"Boy, you aren't making a lick of sense."
"He's going to say yes if we don't find him!"
Bobby turned to Castiel. "What's happened?"
"I don't know," Castiel said. I merely retrieved Dean at our appointed time and found him like this. He hasn't explained anything to me but the need to find Sam.
Dean had been pacing the room throughout Castiel's explanation. Bobby caught his arm and made him stop.
"Tell me what's happened," Bobby said sternly.
Dean raked a hand through his hair. "That dick Zachariah bounced me five years into the future. It was a mess, Bobby. Croatoan was raging and we were all living in some kind of same compound at an old camp. And Lucifer… Lucifer had Sam. He'd said yes."
Bobby sucked in a breath between his teeth. "Okay, so Sam said yes then, that doesn't mean that's what he's doing now."
Dean shook his head. "I said, the future me said, we never saw Sam again after Colorado."
Bobby snatched up his phone and started to dial.
"I already tried that," Dean said impatiently. "It's going straight to voicemail. Sam's not talking."
"Cas, can you help?" Bobby asked.
Castiel shook his head. "When Anna branded you, she took away my ability to sense you. I could search, but I would be searching the whole country. It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Try that," Dean said. "Get Anna in on the action, too."
It would be tough, but Dean couldn't honestly think of anything else to do. Sam's phone was out of action. He wasn't with Missouri anymore. The only thing they had in their favor was the name of the city Sam had last been known to be in the future. The city he had been when he said yes.
"Cas, start with Detroit."
By the time Sam climbed off the bus in Sioux Falls, it was shortly after noon. He'd been able to hitch as far as Sioux City and he'd the last of his reserves of cash to get a bus.
His phone had died before he'd left Lawrence, and he hadn't wanted to wake Bobby by calling ahead. He had a simple plan, to get to Bobby's and from there find Dean. He didn't know what he would do after that, but he knew he couldn't shoulder the knowledge that he was Lucifer's vessel alone. Dean deserved to know the truth about his brother, little though Sam wanted to admit it, even to himself. When he'd woken, only an hour after lying down to sleep, he'd known he had to get to Dean. He had to share the news that he'd heard. He couldn't keep himself safe on his own. He needed his brother to help him.
He sighed with relief as he reached the long road that would lead to Bobby's house. He was exhausted. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in days, and he'd had little the night before due to Lucifer's appearance in his dream. It seemed doubtful he was going to get any more for a while either. There was plenty to talk about, not least of all his recent diagnosis courtesy of Pamela: PTSD. He felt a little better having a name for what was happening to him. It would, hopefully, make it easier for him to talk to Dean about it.
He walked through the iron arch that formed the entrance to Bobby's property and wound his way through the cars to the house. He was relieved to see Bobby's Chevelle parked outside; at least he was there. He had hoped Dean might be there, too, but he'd known it was a long shot. Dean had other, more important, things to be doing rather than sitting around at Bobby's place.
Sam wondered if that would be his fate now. He couldn't go back to hunting, it wasn't safe, but he couldn't be alone either. He needed to be around people that knew the truth to keep him safe from Lucifer. He knew Lucifer wouldn't hurt him, he needed him, but he could trick Sam somehow.
He scaled the steps to the porch and knocked on the door. He heard heavy footsteps and then the door swung open.
"Sam!"
He had all of a second to take in Dean's expression, taut with worry and concern, and then he was dragged into a hug that knocked the air from him. He had to fight the urge to shove Dean away, he didn't want the contact, but he forced himself to remain still until Dean released him.
"Where the hell have you been?" Dean asked angrily.
"Um, Lawrence?" Sam framed it as a question. He didn't understand Dean's reaction.
"Get in here," Dean said.
Sam followed him into the house. Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a glass of whiskey in front of him. There was another glass on the table opposite him, which made Sam think he had interrupted something.
Bobby looked up at Sam and he sighed with relief. "Sam."
Sam realized he was definitely missing something. Dean and Bobby were acting as if he'd been gone for months rather than the matter of days it had been, and they'd known where he had been. He knew something bad must have happened and his gut twisted with fear. "What's happened?" he asked.
Dean and Bobby exchanged a glance, and Sam guessed they were deciding how much to tell him. It aggravated him. He wasn't weak or delicate; he needed to know what they knew.
"Tell me!" he snapped.
"You should sit down," Dean said.
Knowing it was worse than even he'd thought, Sam sat and fisted his hands under the table.
Dean slid the glass of whiskey across the table to him. "Have a drink."
Sam shook his head. "I don't want a drink. I just want to know what's happening." Who was it? Ellen, Jo, Rufus? Or was it someone they didn't know? He hadn't seen a newspaper in days. Was it the world? Had Lucifer's plans been stepped up already?
Dean sat down opposite him. "Sam, we need to talk. I didn't want to have to tell you this, but things have changed and now you have to know."
"Know what?" Sam asked quietly.
Dean looked across the table at him and his eyes were weary and cautious. "You know I'm supposed to be Michael's vessel?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah. Has he done something to you? Did he hurt you?"
"I'm fine," Dean said, shaking his head ruefully. "It's you, Sam. I…" He raked a hand through his hair. "Dammit! I don't know how to say it."
"It's you, Sam," Bobby said. "You're Lucifer's vessel."
Dean rounded on Bobby. "Do you have to be so blunt? I was easing him into it."
"You were fluffing it," Bobby replied. "He needs to know."
Sam stared down at the table. He could hear the blood pumping in his ears and his fisted hands were shaking. "How long have you known?" he asked.
"Since that night you saw Lilith," Dean said.
They had known the whole time. Ever since he got back. And they hadn't told him.
"I know this is a shock," Bobby said. "But we had to tell you. You needed to be warned."
"A shock?" Sam asked, laughing shakily. "No, it was a shock when Lucifer appeared to tell me the news himself. The shock now is know you've been lying to me for days! Who else knows? Ellen, Jo, Rufus? Or did you put out an all hunters broadcast. You've gotta keep them in the know, after all. But not me. Why should I know the truth?"
One part of Sam's tirade seemed to have stuck in Dean's mind. "You saw Lucifer? What did he do? What did you say?"
"I didn't say yes," Sam said bitterly. "But I could have. He didn't come as himself at first, he came as Jess. It was a dream, I was dreaming of Jess when he changed."
The thrill of horror he'd felt when his girlfriend had transformed into the Devil swept over him again and he shuddered.
"I didn't want to lie to you," Dean said. "I wanted to protect you from this."
Sam understood it, he even thought he'd do the same in Dean's position, but he wished Dean had believed on him enough to tell him the truth. "I should have been told," he said. "What else are you hiding from me?"
"Nothing," Dean said quickly. "There's nothing."
Bobby cleared his throat. "That's not technically true, Dean. There's a few things Sam should know about, like Adam and Chuck.
Dean looked down at the table. "Okay. He's right. There are things you don't know, things that happened when you were gone…"
Bracing himself for more bad news, Sam nodded and waited.
Dean understood Sam's anger, he would have slugged Sam if he heard he was hiding something this big from him, but he couldn't regret it. Sam had lived without the fear that he was Lucifer's vessel for a few days and that was more than he could have hoped for. Sam could have had a little peace. Now, that peace had been destroyed, and Dean even had to add to it. As if Sam didn't have enough to be dealing with.
He took a deep breath. "Okay, Adam was our brother."
Sam looked at him blankly. "We have a brother?"
"We did," Dean said. "He died."
Sam shook his head. "How is that even…"
"He was our half brother. Dad and his mom hooked up about twenty years ago."
"Why didn't we know?"
Dean shrugged. "Dad was trying to keep him safe I guess. He didn't want him to have our life. Adam didn't meet Dad until he was twelve."
"Seems your daddy got the phone call and dropped everything to see him," Bobby said.
Sam huffed a laugh. "He dropped everything did he, including us?"
Dean grimaced. "Yeah, I guess he did." He wondered what Sam's reaction would be to the fact John had apparently embraced the civilian side of life for Adam, too, taking him to baseball games. He decided he didn't need to know. It wasn't like he was hiding anything big. He was just protecting Sam from disappointment.
"What happened to him?" Sam asked.
"He was killed by a couple of ghouls."
"He was a hunter?" Sam asked. "Did we ever meet him?" He looked thoughtful and Dean knew he was wracking his brain for any hunter they could have met that fit the profile.
"No," Dean said. "He was a pre-med student. Dad…" He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Dad never told him about the supernatural world. He keep him safe."
Sam sighed heavily. "Of course he did."
"Dad killed a ghoul back in the day," Dean said, hurrying on with his explanation. "Back when he met Adam's mother. The ghoul had kids, and when they'd grown, they came after Adam and his mother for revenge. They were both killed."
"What was he like?" Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. He honestly didn't know what Adam was like. He hadn't exactly taken the time to get to know his before he was killed. He'd been too disappointed that it wasn't Sam that had made the call. And he didn't know whether the ghoul Adam he met bore any resemblance in character to the real Adam.
"He seemed like a good kid," Bobby said, unconcerned by the lack of real information to impart. "Smart. He looked a lot like you."
Sam smiled slightly. "I would've liked to meet him." He looked thoughtful for a moment, but it wasn't the kind of thoughtful that worried Dean. It wasn't like he was hallucinating or lost in a memory of Hell, it was more that he was pondering the life his brother might have had. "So, what's the deal with that Chuck? Is he our brother, too?"
Dean laughed. "No, but it might have been easier if he was. Chuck is a writer."
Sam looked across at him. "Wow, Dean, you made some real interesting friends while was gone. First angels, now writers, did you go to poetry readings too?"
Dean grinned. Sam was taking the news much better than he'd expected. "No, but I did do a lot of reading myself. See Chuck isn't an ordinary writer. He writes about us."
Sam choked a laugh. "He does what?"
"He's a prophet really," Bobby said. "Kinda your personal prophet. He sees you and Dean and writes books about it."
"And people read them?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Some," Dean said. "I know it seems a little crazy, but it's the truth. I have all the books if you want to read them.
"Maybe some other time," Sam said. "It sounds a little creepy reading about myself."
Dean understood that. It had been weird for him too before he realized what a gift the books were, before he knew they were the secret to deciphering Sam. If he told Sam that, he would be inviting in Sam's ridicule, so he stayed quiet.
An awkward silence settled over the room and Dean stared across at Bobby. He seemed to be trying to communicate with him, and Dean guessed he knew what he was trying to say. There was still more for him to say, not least of all where he'd just been and what he had seen there.
Sam seemed to realize this at the same time. "When I got here, you were freaking out. Why? What happened?"
"Zachariah, the angel that broke your legs and… killed you. He paid me a visit."
"Are you okay?" Sam asked hurriedly.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Sam. He didn't hurt me. He just…"
"What?"
"He sent me to the future. It was like something out of a disaster movie. Croatoan was raging. I only met a few people that weren't infected and they were living in a compound. We were all there, you me, Bobby and Cas, only…"
He didn't know how to say it. He didn't know how to tell his brother that he'd invited the Devil in. Sam was still reacting to the news that he was a vessel. Did he really need to know more? Wasn't it better to just tell him it was bad and let that be it?
Then he remembered the intensity with which his future self had spoken. He'd told Dean to learn from his mistakes. Was this the first mistake, wanting to protect Sam?
"Only what?" Sam asked.
"You said yes, Sam," Bobby said. "In that future, you had said yes to Lucifer."
Dean wished Bobby could take back the words. Anything to remove the look of horror from his brother's face.
"I said yes?" He fisted his hands in his hair and bowed his head. "I'm going to say yes!"
"You did in that future, Sam," Dean said. "But you don't have to. You won't this time. In that future, we never saw each other again after we split on Colarado. We've already changed that. You're here. We can change this too. You can make a different choice this time."
Sam looked up and there was desperate sadness in his eyes. Dean hated to see it there. He wished there was something he could say or do to make this better, but he knew there was worse to come. He still had to persuade Sam to stay in the life, though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He had to listen to his future self though. He and Sam needed to protect each other from the archangels as much as they needed to protect themselves. They kept each other human.
"You think?" Sam asked helplessly.
"I know," Dean said, forcing certainty into his tone. "We can do this. We can stop ourselves. We just have to stick together."
Sam looked down at his hands. "We can't do that though, Dean. I can't be with you on the hunt. It's not safe."
"It's never been safe," Dean said. "For either of us. So you're dealing with your post-Hell issues, that's not the end of it all. We can work through that together."
"I can't do it, Dean," Sam said desperately. "I can't put you at risk."
Dean raked a hand through his hair. "I don't want this for you, Sam. I don't want you to have to hunt, but it's the only way." He could never know how little Dean wanted it. He wanted his brother to have a safe, normal life, but it was just what he couldn't have. "We have to hunt and we have to stay together. I've seen what us separating does to the world, and we can't risk it. You say it's not safe for me. I'm prepared to take that risk."
"I don't want to hurt you."
Dean forced a smile. "And I don't want to get hurt, but it's better for me to get hurt than the world. I've seen how this ends for us, and it's better that I get hurt now than killed later." He hated to say it, he didn't want to see the look of horror in Sam's eyes, but he knew if anything would persuade him to come back into the life it was this. Sam had died once to save Dean, surely he wouldn't risk it happening again.
Sam sucked in a breath. "You die!"
Dean nodded dourly. "Lucifer killed me, the future me. I saw it happen.
Sam looked stunned for a moment and then he clasped his hands on the tabletop. He seemed to be coming to some decision, and Dean hoped with all he had that it was the right one. Sam had to come back into the hunt, it was the only way.
"Okay," he said. "I'm in. I'll hunt."
Dean sighed with relief. "Thank you, Sam. Really, thank you."
Sam shook his head. "Don't thank me yet. You don't know what you're inviting on board."
Dean wondered what he meant and then he remembered what Missouri had told him, or rather what she hadn't told him. Pamela had been to see Sam, and she'd told him something, something bad enough that she had thought that was why Sam had run. Sam still had something to say, and Dean knew it was something bad.
Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Dean knew the many tells of Sam, and this was the one he showed when he was fighting the urge to make a run for it. Whatever it was he had to say, he didn't want to say it.
"You don't have to tell us, Sammy," Dean said. He wanted to remove the look of anguish from Sam's eyes.
Sam drew a deep breath and seemed to gird himself. "When I was at Missouri's, her friend Pamela came by."
Bobby nodded. "We know Pamela."
"Yeah, she said. Well, she… I guess you could say she diagnosed me." He raked a hand through his hair.
Dean was worried. What possible diagnosis could Pamela have given Sam? Then he remembered what Pamela's day job was, and his worry increased exponentially. "What did she say?"
"She thinks I have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."
Dean felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. PTSD. He knew little about it, but he did know it could get real bad. Psych ward bad.
Contrary to Dean's shock, Bobby looked like his suspicions had been confirmed.
Sam bowed his head and spoke quietly. "She thinks that Hell, what happened there, screwed me up so much I'm broken."
"I don't believe she said that," Bobby said. "She wouldn't have said you were broken."
Sam shook his head. "What does it matter what she said when the end is the same? I'm screwed up, screwed up bad, and now I have to find a way to hunt with that."
"Is there anything she can do?" Dean asked. "Like some kind of treatment?"
"Only pills," Sam said sadly.
"Okay," Dean said brightly. "So we find you a doctor and we get the pills. Then you'll be good again." This was actually better than he'd thought. If they could just find the right pills for Sam, this could be taken care of.
"It's not that easy," Bobby said. "Pills won't magically fix what's happening here. They will just make it a little easier for Sam to handle it."
That was still better than nothing, Dean thought. It was hope where he previously had none.
"How about therapy?" Bobby asked. "I'm no expert but I thought talking was supposed to help."
Sam looked up. "Yeah, she said therapy might help, but I can't talk about it." He shuddered. "I'd be locked up."
"You can talk to us," Bobby said softly.
Sam snorted. "Yeah, 'cause you two are such Chatty Cathy's."
"Don't do us down," Bobby said. "We'll listen if you're ready to talk."
"And if I'm not ready?" Sam asked quietly.
Bobby smiled grimly. "Then we'll wait till you are." He sighed. "I know you want to do this all on your own, Sam, and I understand it, but you can't. You need us. Not only to protect you from Lucifer but to protect you from yourself."
Sam stared down at his hands for a long time, considering Bobby's words. Eventually, he raised his head and nodded. "Okay, when I'm ready, I'll come."
So… Sam's going to go to Dean and Bobby to talk it out when he needs to. Raise your hands if you think that'll work out… No one? No, me neither.
Thanks for the reviews, faves and alerts for the last chapter. I appreciate it more than I can say.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx