Disclaimer: Yeah... if wishes were horses, we'd all be eating steak XD
Sam is 10, Dean is 15
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This chapter was kinda hard to write, so I hope you enjoy it!
Enjoy chapter ten!
Dean and Sam were in the shower, Dean quickly washing the both of them again. He had barely finished rinsing out Sam's hair when his brother abruptly turned around and wrapped his arms tightly around Dean's chest.
"Oh! Sam..." Dean carefully dislodged his brother and knelt down in front of him, keeping his hands on Sam's arms. "What's wrong?"
Sam just shook his head, the warm water dripping down from his long bangs and down his face, mixing with tears only Dean could see. As warm as the water was, Sam was shaking hard under his brother's grip.
"Sammy..." Dean brushed a hand through Sam's hair, trying to calm him down. He turned off the water and held Sam close. "What is it, buddy?" He could feel the fear soaking in him from Sam like it always did, except this was a new type of fear. A hysterical fear that screamed urgency. Dean held Sam's head between his hands and forced his brother to look at him. "Sammy, what is it?!" Sam looked at him with wide-glassy eyes, his shaking persistent. Dean started to feel a little hysterical himself, his body also starting to shake. "Please, talk to me, Sam! Why won't you talk to me!?"
Sam started to cry, his brother's frustration and fear frightening him even more. But as the sounds of his cries started to come out, Sam quickly covered his mouth to silence himself.
Tears ran down Dean's face. He ran a comforting hand up and down Sam's arm as he held Sam close with his other. "It's okay, Sam... nobody's gonna hurt you..."
Sam buried his face into the nook of Dean's neck, his hands still covering his mouth. He wanted to speak. He wanted to tell Dean so badly. He needed to tell Dean. But he couldn't. They were here. And if they heard him...
---
John stood outside the bathroom door, listening to Dean begging his brother to speak. He was originally going to see if he could talk to the boys, just to see if he could get some iota of trust going between them. But when he heard the distress from the other side of the door, he decided to listen to what was going on.
He sighed. If Dean couldn't even break Sam's shell of silence, then that just means their job is that much harder. John shook his head. No, don't think like that. First things first though. We gotta get Dean to trust us... Finally, John knocked on the door.
---
Dean's knee slipped and he fell hard on the shower floor as the bathroom door was knocked. Dean automatically pulled Sam down with him and held him close.
"Boys? You in there?"
"Yes," Dean replied. "We're done, we'll be out in a minute."
"That's alright," John quickly said, realizing Dean thought he was mad. "Come to my room when your done, okay? I wanna speak with you."
Dean's eyes narrowed. "Just me?"
"Both of you, though somehow, I doubt Sam'll have much to say."
Dean squeezed Sam tighter to his chest in response, but understood what John meant. "We'll be there in a minute," Dean's mumble barely loud enough to John to hear through the bathroom door.
John gave a small smile. "Alright."
---
John was pacing in the master bedroom when Dean entered, his brother following closely behind. "Hey boys."
Dean didn't respond. Instead, he looked around the bedroom for any sign of a threat, careful not to let his eyes linger far from John.
"You mother's downstairs cooking dinner, so I thought we could talk."
"She's not our mother," Dean automatically said.
John nodded. "But she is technically your foster mother."
Dean shook his head. "Whatever." He crossed his arms across his chest and sighed. "What did you wanna talk about?"
John shrugged. He took a couple steps back and sat on the bed. "Anything." John looked back and forth between the brothers, noticing for the first time how much they didn't look like each other. "Tell me about your mother."
Dean's head snapped up. "What do you mean?"
"Well, she didn't die until you were four. Do you remember anything about her?"
"No."
"You're lying."
Dean's eyes widened. "Why do you care? She's dead. Nothing else matters."
"How'd she die?"
Dean shuffled a little where he stood, the strong, protective teen reverting to a confused child in a matter of seconds. "Childbirth. Something happened when Sam was born."
John nodded. "Do you remember that?"
"It doesn't matter!" Dean shouted. "It happened! This is the result! How it happened doesn't matter!"
John frowned. "I was only asking if you remembered."
Dean stiffened. He bit his lip and swallowed hard. "No." He shook his head for emphasis. "I don't remember a thing."
My ass, John thought. Dean was acting much to defensive in John's opinion. What confused him even more was why Dean would lie about it.
"Do you remember anything about your mother?"
Dean shrugged. "Why?"
"I'm curious. Besides, if I'm going to raise you, I should try to learn about you two, don't you think?"
Dean sighed. "If you learned everything about us, you wouldn't know how to look at us without vomiting."
John blinked at the harsh statement. "Dean... I was in the Marines. I saw a lot of horrible things during my service. And yet I can still imagine things worse. I don't care how bad it is, but I promise... I will never look at you with anything but respect and care."
Dean shook his head, staring straight into John's eyes. "You won't be able to keep that promise."
John smiled. "Watch me."
---
Mary waited as the pot of water heated. She tapped her foot impatiently, imagining how the talk was going. She couldn't hear shouts or crashes yet, so... that must be a good sign.
Mary felt a slight pang of jealousy shoot through her at the thought of John actually succeeding in gaining Dean's trust. She knew it was absurd to think that way, but she so much wanted to have their trust and depend on her, that she couldn't help but feel a little envious if her husband succeeded.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She quickly wiped her hands off and went to answer the door.
When she opened it, a man and woman were standing with blue uniforms on. "We're sorry to bother you, ma'am," the man said with a thick southern accent. "But there's a gas leak in the neighborhood and we need to evacuate the neighborhood immediately."
Mary stuck her head out a little and looked around the neighborhood. There wasn't another soul in sight.
"And I suppose that you two are the only ones evacuating the entire neighborhood?" Mary said skeptically.
The man glared at her. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but for your own safety you're going to have to come with us." He grabbed Mary's arm and started to pull her away.
"Yeah right," Mary murmured. She grabbed the man's arm and quickly twisted it behind him and slammed him against the ground. The man gave a small grunt at the impact. "Sonova..."
You're hunters, aren't you?" Mary said dangerously low. "Well, I'm not gonna let you -- " A small sharp pain in her right arm silenced her, a warm feeling quickly spread through her body and rendered her unconscious.
---
"What did your mom look like?"
Dean gave an exasperated sigh. "What does it matter?!"
John shrugged. "I'm curious. You and Sam have almost nothing in common, physically."
Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't remember what my mom looked like. She had dark hair. That's all I remember."
John frowned. "Didn't your father keep any of her pictures after she died."
"Daemon burned them all. The day after she died."
John slowly nodded. "I see... Daemon was your father?"
Dean shifted from side to side. "He was Sam's biological father. Didn't get around to much fathering."
John sighed. "Loosing his wife must have taken its toll on him, I imagine."
Dean scoffed. "Yeah right," he murmured.
John frowned. "What was that?"
Dean's eyes widened a little, obviously realizing he had said that aloud. "Nothing."
John wanted to investigate further, but stopped when Sam suddenly gasped and wrapped his arms tightly around Dean's chest.
"Sam?" Dean said. He tried to pry Sam's hands off of him, but Sam's grip was insistent. "Sammy, what is it?" Dean said.
John stood and took a few steps toward the brothers. "Dean?"
"I-I don't know..." Dean said. Sam's hysterical fear was back, pouring into Dean in gigantic waves. Sam's breathing was harsh, and Dean could feel the strain on his own lungs as Sam's emotions swam around frantically.
Suddenly, Sam let go and grabbed Dean's sleeve, frantically pulling him towards the hallway. He had to make Dean understand without breaking the rules. If he broke the rules, then the game would be over, and everyone would lose.
"Sammy!" Dean put a strong hand on Sam's shoulder and pulled him close. Dean put his face directly in front of Sam's. "Tell me what's wrong!"
Silent tears fell down Sam's face as Dean and John did nothing but stare at him. Maybe... maybe if he broke the rules and they didn't find out... That would be cheating, but if they don't find out...!
"Mmm..." Sam whimpered. His tears came out more intensely as fear gripped his chest and shook his body.
Dean froze. "Sam!? C'mon Sam, talk to me!"
Sam gave up and shook his head. It was too hard. They would know. They always knew...
Dean could feel Sam's fear and quickly shook his head. "No, no, no! It's okay! No one's going to hurt you! Just please! Tell me what's wrong!"
Sam had no idea what he was doing. All he did, was do. He yanked himself from Dean's grip and ran down the hallway towards the stairs.
"Sam!" Dean and John both yelled as they followed him. When the got to the bottom of the stairs, they found Sam curled in a small ball, rocking back and forth, staring at the front door.
Dean quickly knelt down and wrapped his arms tightly around Sam, his worry so intense it was painful. He buried his face in Sam's hair, rocking in sync with his brother, silently begging him once again, to talk to him.
Feeling his brother's arms wrap around him, Sam immediately pressed his shaking body to Dean's and buried his face into his brother's chest, the few seconds of emptiness enough to make him almost paralytic with fear.
John stopped in his steps, momentarily relieved Sam didn't run away or anything else problematic. The relief was short-lived, however, when he noticed what Sam was staring at before his brother wrapped himself around him.
A piece of paper with writing was taped to the door. Frowning, John ripped the paper from the door and read aloud: "You have no idea what you're dealing with. Bring the boys to the motel on the edge of town, room 14. Then you can have your wife back. Sincerely, the Montegues."
John looked around the kitchen in panic, realizing for the first time that his wife was absent. "Mary!" he called, knowing already it was useless. Dean abruptly stood up, making John blink in surprise. "Dean?"
Then John saw. Dean's eyes were wide with untold terror, his body poised for flight...
Well...? Whaddya think? Is it what you expected? Better? Worse? Serious, review and let me know EXACTLY what you think.
Okay, not my best written chapter. It might have been a bit wordy I realize... review and let me know what you think!
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