Hey everybody! We've officially reached 10! YES!
Chapter 10 - Brother
The boy glanced around the park nervously, shifting his feet. He had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, and he shivered against the night breeze.
A figure emerged from the darkness. The first boy caught sight of the new arrival, and his shoulders relaxed. He started walking toward the second boy, who bore similar facial features. The first broke into a run, colliding haphazardly with the second boy.
"Ansem." The first boy whispered. He wrapped his arms tightly around the other boy, and Ansem did the same. "I didn't know if you'd remember."
"Of course I would remember." Ansem scoffed, pulling away slightly. "They can take our freedom, Andrew, but they can't keep us from each other. Twins gotta stick together."
Andrew smiled, and he swung an arm over his brother's shoulders. They walked over to the bench, and sat. Andrew closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the feel of his brother sitting next to him, after so long apart.
"What have you been up to?" Andrew asked briskly, to cut the silence.
Ansem laughed. "I convinced my teacher to give me an A on a test. It was pretty hilarious." He shook his head, a wry smile making it's way onto his face. "She was so confused." His smile faded. "But then she caught on. And called the cops. And Mr. Bernsten."
"Is he your…?" Andrew trailed off, knowing that the words angered his brother.
"Not anymore." Ansem laughed darkly. "They relocated me. Again." He looked up at his brother. "It took me two hours to walk here." Regret swum in his eyes. "I might not make it next time, brother."
Andrew felt a flash of panic. Ansem wasn't always a good person. He knew that. But he was all Andrew had. No one else cared about him like Ansem did. If he were to die, Ansem was the only one he had left who would cry. They couldn't take him away any more than they already had.
Andrew swallowed, pushing down his fear, so as not to upset Ansem. "Well, then, we'll just have to make the meeting place someplace closer to your new location."
Ansem smiled faintly, without hope, averting his gaze to the ground. Absently, he reached out and slid his fingers through Andrew's. Andrew looked to his brother in confusion. Hand holding had been something they had done as children, to comfort each other. Make their predicament seem less lonely. Back when they were even allowed to see each other, if only for a few minutes a week. As they had grown, the hand holding had been diminished to pats on the back, and brotherly embraces. Ansem wouldn't make himself feel this vulnerable. Not unless he truly felt he had not other choice.
"What's wrong, Ansem? What's really wrong?" Andrew clarified, understanding his brother's emotions better than anyone else.
Ansem looked up at his brother. His eyes were shining, tears welling up, unshed. "Where they relocated me...it's only temporary." He admitted, his voice cracking.
Andrew felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. He shook his head, mentally begging his brother to deny what he suspected. "Wh-where are they moving you?" He whispered, his voice weak.
Ansem looked desolately at his brother, his eyes void of hope. "You know where, Andrew." He murmured.
"No." Andrew denied. He stood up, tears falling onto his cheeks. "NO! They can't do that! They can't!" Ansem stood, pulling his brother into a firm embrace, as Andrews sobs echoed around the playground.
"It's okay, little brother," Ansem said, who had always felt that even though they were the same age, he was older. He was the one who's job it was to protect his brother. He was the one to look after him. "I'll be okay. They say the work camps aren't as bad as people make them out to be." He swallowed his grief. "You'll be okay, too."
"They can't…" Andrew whispered. "Please...you can't leave me…"
The words nearly broke Ansem's heart, but he shoved the feelings down. He hardened his resolve. "This is the last time you'll see me, Andrew." He guaranteed solemnly. His brothers cried became louder, though he tried to hide it. "But you'll be okay." He clutched his brother closer, desperately trying to memorize every feature. Quietly, to himself, he murmured, "You have to be okay."
A snap to their left stopped the brothers in their tracks. Ansem looked suspiciously toward the sound, but dismissed it reluctantly, blaming wildlife. He took the distraction as an opportunity to pull back from his distressed twin. Ansem looked into his brothers eyes, took a breath, opened his mouth to speak, and-
Ansem cried out as something small pierced his neck. He took a faltering step back, his hand reaching up to yank the offending object out. It tugged on his skin as he snatched the needle like projectile from his neck. However, judging from his swimming vision, and offset balance, it was too little, too late.
Ansem collapsed to the ground. Andrew shouted his name, barely catching him before Ansem would have cracked his head on the ground. He knelt by his brothers side, fear plain in his wide eyes.
"R-run." Ansem croaked, whatever sedative had been pumped into him quickly doing it's job. Andrew shook his head sadly, regret and acceptance shining in his eyes clearly. "I'm not leaving you." He said simply, stating a fact.
Andrew jerked back as a dart caught him, and he roughly pulled it out, managing to hold himself up on his hands and knees. Andrew looked up at his brother, their eyes saying more than could be stated in a thousand words. Andrew groaned, and let himself fall to the ground, still locking eyes with Ansem.
Ansem reached out weakly, extending his hand toward his brother. Andrew reached out as well, and just before Ansem's vision went black, he felt their fingertips touch, a touch that brought instant relief, and the knowledge that he was not alone providing a whisper of comfort.
Shouts broke out just above him, three figures in dark clothes rushed out from the shadows. Ansem struggled to reach his brother, protect him, straining uselessly against the drugs coursing through his body, even as the impending darkness began to swallow him.
With his last ounce of strength, Ansem gasped and shoved with all his might towards his younger brother. His little brother. His baby brother, who he swore to himself to protect. Ansem grabbed Andrew's hand, and he held onto it with his fading strength.
I'll protect you, baby brother, Ansem swore determinedly, even as the rough hands of their captors disconnected the contact between the two. Ansem finally gave into the exhaustion, going completely limp, simultaneously easing the tension in his own body and making it more difficult for the strangers to lift him.
I swear, Andrew, Ansem promised as the light faded, and his thoughts became foggy. You will not be alone.
Sam's eyes snapped open, and his breath came in gasps. His forehead was plastered with sweat, and he swallowed, blinking rapidly to refocus his eyes. He could feel gravel pressing into his knees, and the sound of cars rushing past.
"It's okay, Sammy." Dean's voice came from behind him. Sam was aware of his sure hand rubbing small circles on Sam's back, in a comforting rhythm. "It's over, it's finished." Dean soothed.
Sam closed his eyes to steady himself. He took a few deep breaths, the post-vision pain still bad, but fading. When he opened his eyes, he hissed at how bright the light was. Glaringly bright. Sam groaned slightly, and curled an arm around his stomach. Something was wrong with his stomach. He felt...nauseous. And lightheaded.
Sam recalled the vision, turning it over in his mind as he tried to distract himself from his discomfort. He started trembling as he remembered the horrible clarity of it. Normally his visions were like old TV or radio stations with bad frequencies, that cut in and out. This one, however, was like watching a movie in high definition.
And the feelings. Sam felt his stomach twist even more when he thought of the feelings that had bombarded him. He had felt what the boy, Ansem, had felt. In detail. In a horrible, claustrophobic clearness.
Sam remembered Ansem's fear. His protectiveness. His terror when Andrew didn't run. The people grabbing them. Separating them. Ansem's promise to Andrew, though they were both too far gone to speak by then.
Sam's stomach heaved without warning. He pitched forward, retching painfully. Dean jumped, and grabbed Sam's shoulders to brace him.
"Dad!" Dean shouted sternly, without panicking. "Get out here."
John, who had been talking to a concerned Mary, immediately zeroed in on the situation. Holding a hand up to Mary, he motioned for her to stay put. Quickly, John exited the car and made his way to the boys. Sam, still retching and coughing, was shaking and sweating as well.
John knelt by Sam, and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You're okay, Sam, just breathe."
Sam coughed again, fighting for breath desperately. His eyes widened, and his breath became even more harried as he panicked.
John grabbed both of Sam's shoulders, and braced him. He leaned forward, and spoke quietly, but firmly, in Sam's ear.
"Breathe, Sam." He ordered. "Just calm down, son."
Actually keen on obeying for once, Sam struggled to even out his breathing, and slowly, the consistency of his gasps regained a better quality. Sam felt John relax behind him.
"There you go." John encouraged. "Don't think about anything else. Just breathe."
Finally, Sam sat back against John and Dean, nausea fading, and breathing evened out. John let out a relieved breath.
"You worried us, there, Sam." He said lightly, but Sam could hear the underlying edge of concern.
"Never…" Sam croaked, his voice rough. Sam cleared his throat, swallowed, and attempted again. "They've never been like that before." He looked up at the two men weakly.
"Like what, Sammy?" Dean asked.
"So...clear." Sam answered. "It was a thousand times more clear. And...I could feel things. What they were feeling."
"Who?" John asked in concern.
Sam felt a jolt when he remembered the two boys. "Psychics. Ansem and Andrew. They're twins." He looked up desperately at John and Dean. "They were kidnapped."
John narrowed his eyes, and looked back at Mary, her face laced with apprehension. John sighed. "Let's get back to the house, boys. I have something to talk to all of you about."
The four Winchesters crowded around their table. After a brief, expectant silence, John stood.
"You remember that could-be hunt I mentioned a few days ago?" He asked. Dean nodded, eyebrows furrowed.
"I was investigating the disappearance of Max Miller, age 14." He looked around at his small family. "He's a psychic."
Sam stared down at the table, expecting stares from the family, but their eyes remained on John. Sam felt the knot in his chest loosen, and gratitude take it's place.
"It's not uncommon for psychics to run away from their Care homes, but usually they are either caught or return on their own after a day or two." He paused. "It's been almost three days. The possibility of a runaway is dwindling. Fast." John sat back down, clasping his hands in front of him. "However, I might still dismiss it as that, if it weren't for the other disappearances." He looked regretfully at Sam. "In the states and towns around Lawrence, a total of four psychics have gone missing, including the two boys Sam saw earlier.
"All are around 14 years old, all are psychics." John sighed. "I feel like there's a connection, but…" He trailed off. "The only sure kidnapping was of a girl named Ava Wilson, taken outside her school. It's suspected that Max Miller was kidnapped, but not positive."
Looking at the faces of his family, John tried to placate them. "I'm not trying to scare you, I just want everyone on the lookout." His gaze settled on Sam. "Sam is the exact age of the kids that have been taken. This guy has been successful with taking four children, if that is the case. Let's not make it so easy with Sam."
Sam's face burned, but he felt oddly happy all the same. John cared. He really cared. Sam was disturbed to hear about the children, and John's suspicions about the subject. The topic wasn't a surprise to him, having witnessed all the kidnappings. However, the whole family's concern for him warmed him to the core.
"They were all kidnapped." He commented quietly.
John nodded. "The evidence only points to two kidnappings, however." At Sam's hurt look, he held up his hands defensively. "I don't doubt you, but the authorities would."
"Don't worry, Dad." Dean growled. Sam looked back at his brother, who had been silent throughout most of the conversation. "Whoever wants Sam has to go through me."
He and Sam made eye contact. Sam shivered at the look in his eye. It reminded him of the fierce determination of Ansem, watching his brother collapse next to him.
"They're not going to get you, Sammy." Dean promised. "I got your back."
Sam smiled. Dean might have his back, but he knew that if worst came to worst, he would have Dean's back.
Ava screamed as the electricity arched through her body again. It ceased, and she sagged against the metal table, panting loudly. Her mouth was dry, but if she hadn't had no moisture in her body, she would have been crying.
Or maybe not. This had been going on for so long, Ava was starting to understand Max's fear when she had just arrived. Sadly, she was gradually losing the ability to cry. Crying didn't help anything.
The man in the coat walked over to her. Ava had learned from phone call that he made that his name was "Dr. Neville". Dr. Neville gently stroked her face, sympathy playing across his features. Ava weakly jerked her head away.
"D-don't touch m-me, you f-f-freak." She rasped, her voice stuttering involuntarily.
Dr. Neville's fingers stilled. His brow furrowed in concern. "Do you need water, Ava?" He asked, before walking over to the table and picking up a cup. He brought it over to Ava. He gently grasped the back of her head, propping it up. With his other hand, he brought the cup to her lips. Ava drank greedily, anger simmering in her stomach. When there was almost none left, Ava sucked the water into her mouth, but didn't drink it, holding the mouthful inside.
"Better?" Dr. Neville asked, acting as though he had solved all of her problems. He wore an expression of superiority, looking at her like she was some idiotic child.
Rage boiled in Ava's veins, and in response, she spit the water out at Dr. Neville. He stumbled back, shock crossing his face. Ava watched as his face grew red with anger, and his features twisted, making him look less human.
Dr. Nevill stormed over, and slammed her shoulders down, bringing his face close to hers. Ava cried out as her head banged against the unforgiving metal.
"You should show me some respect!" Dr. Neville shouted. "I am trying to help you! All of you! You just can't see it! Stupid, stupid, girl!" He shook her again, and Ava couldn't help but whimper.
That small sound seemed to break Dr. Neville from his rage. He took a step back, looking regretful.
"Ava.." He faltered, reaching out a hand to comfort her. She drew away, straining against the metal restraints confining her.
Dr. Neville stopped. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I am trying to help."
The door to the chamber opened with a bang, and three people walked in. Between them, two boys hung, unconscious. Ava's eyes widened with horror. Dr. Neville forgot her for a moment. He walked over to the two, inspecting them closely.
"Are these the Gallager boys? Andrew and Ansem?" He asked sharply, while checking their pupils.
One of the people nodded in assent. Dr. Neville walked to the desk, and lifted a list off of the desk. He consulted it, and looked back at the boys.
"Gag them." He ordered. Ava buried her gasp, not wanting to draw attention to herself.
The group complied, roughly gagging the pair.
"Put them in A3 and A4." Dr. Neville said, meaning the cage numbers. "I'll deal with them when I'm done."
Dr. Neville looked back to Ava. Chills ran down her spine.
"I have work to do."
*shudder* I'm sorry, I'm writing in Dr. Neville, and he creeps even ME out.
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