Fears & Dreams

Chapter Twelve

"Yeah, brilliant plan there, Angel boy," Rufus Turner snapped, not sure who he needed to grab first but settled on reaching for his long time friend when Bobby seemed to weave a little too much. "Bobby, sit down. I'll…handle this," even though he wasn't certain what to do.

Dean Winchester had latched onto his younger brother, the scream of rage and grief still echoing in the room as he held him tighter. Turning to bury his face into the mop of shaggy hair that he'd always complained about he couldn't stop the tears that came this time.

"Dean…" Castiel finally took a step before either Bobby or Gabriel could advise him not to. "Let Sam go, it's over."

"Oy," the former Trickster covered his eyes before slapping the other Angel in the head. "Bro, enraged, grief-stricken Winchesters…not good to piss off. Back off and let the boy vent."

Lifting his face, Dean's eyes were hard. "Venting is not what I plan to do," he spoke through clenched teeth while bringing Sam's head tighter to his own neck in a move that was familiar to when they'd been boys and his brother had been frightened. "You are taking Sam back to Bobby's while Cas takes me to find that son of a bitch who did this to my brother and then…and then you'll torch us both because I'll die before doing this crap again."

"Dean, stop it. You ain't doin' anything stupid, boy," Bobby had batted Rufus away to go kneel beside the boys. "This ain't your fault so let's get you both back to my place and…" something made him stop to pay closer attention. "Dean?"

The wounds on his right shoulder forgotten for the moment, Dean wasn't even aware of the other injuries he'd sustained. He only knew that he'd failed to protect his little brother one more time. Only this time, there would be no second chances for them.

Not bothering to stop the tears that dropped from his face to splash Sam's own, his mind was sinking into inky darkness of despair when a weak hand suddenly tried to brush the wetness away and he nearly jerked back upon feeling the soft breath against his neck.

"What the… Sammy?" he whispered, uncertain and not willing to believe until he saw…too large, glassy hazel eyes staring up at him when he eased back a little and he swallowed. "Sam, you with me?"

Frowning, Bobby was just as shocked when the younger Winchester moved against his brother but something seemed to be off and he couldn't put his finger on it.

Easing Sam back far enough so that he could gently grip his neck in order to catch his eyes, Dean recognized the shock and was relieved to see recognition flare in the opposite set of eyes but still held still as if uncertain.

"De'n?" the whisper soft voice sounded like a cannon going off to him and Dean reacted in his usual style.

"C'mere, Sammy," his voice gruff with emotion, he pulled the boy hard against him to just hold on. Keeping a hand on the back of his brother's neck, he fought to ignore the feel of the bandage he'd put to cover the small wound back there and just began to rock, his words soft as he spoke against Sam's neck.

Castiel's gaze narrowed on his friend before landing on the Archangel. "Did you do this?" he demanded lowly, pulling him out of earshot of the hunters. "Dean will not want this, Gabriel. To heal Sam is one thing, but this is…"

"Give the kid time, Cas. It'll sort out…I hope," Gabriel muttered, not intending to admit that he not done anything to bring the youngest Winchester back and that it had been the intention of their father that had worked this. He also hoped to be the hell out of here before either Dean or Singer realized the truth…but he doubted he'd get that lucky as soon as he saw the boy start to squirm.

"De'n?" Sam was dropping his letters to shorten his brother's name, which was an instant alarm bell to Dean but he was willing to allow it for now in favor of just having the kid's chest moving on its own. However, it was when Sam began trying to curl up tighter against him like he had as a kid and as he had right after being rescued that those alarms began getting more shrill.

"Let me look at you, Sammy," he urged carefully, knowing that when Sam was in shock or hurt that you couldn't make sudden moves around him. "You're hurt so we need to see how bad before we move you, okay?"

A brief nod but Sam's eyes had started to move around as if examining his surroundings. "Where we at?" he asked softly, the fingers of his uninjured hand curling around his brother's wrist weakly before his gaze landed on Bobby and a small, almost shy, smile formed. "Uncle Bobby, what you doin' here?"

Blood freezing even as the older man was shooting him a warning look to curb the oath that he knew was forming. "I'm…well, I'm…helping…" Bobby seemed to falter on the exact words as he found himself being watched by huge hazel puppy dog eyes. "Dean, what am I doing?"

"Traitor," Dean hissed, not liking this but hoping he could shrug it off as shock or Sam just waking up. "Sammy, Bobby's…"

"Uncle Bobby, De'n," came the instant correction in a tone that took Dean back too many years and a question slowly formed but before he could ask it, Rufus wondered up holding Dean's denim jacket and the amulet.

Not yet aware of what had transpired while he was searching for the boy's things, Rufus held out the gold amulet to Dean but was more than a little shocked when a hand darted out to grab it from him.

"No! That's my brother's!" Sam's voice was weak but the near scream was still heard as he snatched the amulet away from Rufus to clutch it to his own chest. "De'n's amulet," he whispered, the words more pronounced.

"Whoa there, little brother," Dean urged quickly, motioning the older man back as he caught his brother's arms to keep Sam still. "It's alright. Rufus is a friend of…of Uncle Bobby's," he assured his brother, biting his tongue in an effort to keep his tone level. "Sammy? How old are you?"

Both older hunters looked at him odd for the question but Dean had a hunch that the answer to this question would determine how he handled his brother for, what he prayed was, a short duration.

Blinking up at him, Sam's good hand rubbed at his dry eyes as he once had which again made his brother cringe. "You know how old I am, De'n," he chided, yawning and shivering as shock set in more. "Count four years from you."

"Yeah, I could do that but humor me," Dean replied, gently carding fingers that he was honestly shocked didn't shake through his brother's hair and received the same reaction that Sammy had always given him as a child when he'd done that. "Tell me how old you are."

A near perfect child-like bitch-face was shot his way with full pout but finally Sam shrugged. "I'm eight and you're twelve," he replied, then asked. "Where's Dad, De'n? I don' feel good."

Staring at his brother, Dean struggled to keep his face straight even as Rufus was choking and Bobby was throwing threats toward the Angels in the room.

"Dad…Dad's…" he faltered at the familiar loss he saw in his brother's eyes and found himself shaking. "Sammy…"

"Your Dad's off on a hunting trip with Pastor Jim, Sam," Bobby suddenly spoke up, trying to distract the boy off of what was going to be a poor topic. "A…monster went after you boys so that's how come you're hurt."

Blinking tired eyes, Sam looked as if he were considering that until he nodded. Leaning further into his brother, he shivered again. "Tired, De'n," he murmured, not wanting to appear scared in front of his big brother or Bobby but something about all this was scaring him. He just didn't know what. "Go home now."

"Yeah, Sammy, we're gonna go to Bobby's," Dean assured him, wrapping the denim around his younger sibling while he struggled to stand. "You stay with Bobby a second. I…need to talk with someone."

Giving the older hunters a look, if anyone couldn't guess what Dean's intentions were before as soon as he began snarling at the now backpeddling Archangel. "I'm going to fry you extra crispy if you don't tell me what the hell you did to me brother!"

"Hey, big guy, I didn't do this," Gabriel objected, pulling Castiel in front of him to try to slow down the furious hunter. "The one good thing clause that your Pop was granted…well, it worked but with a side effect that's your fault."

"My fault?" Dean glared, listening to his brother talk rapidly like he had once as a kid when sick or hyped on sugar. "Sam was dead! Now he's breathing again but he thinks he's eight freakin' years old! How is that my fault, you self-important bastard?" he demanded.

Leaning out from around Castiel, Gabriel shot him a sour look. "Exactly! Sammy-boy was dead. Clinically dead and should be pushing up flowers but that thing I said your old man could do really did work but…" swearing, he shot Castiel a dark look when he left him to handle a pissed off Dean alone. "All you were thinking is how you wanted your little brother back alive but you wished he could have the life before all the hassles really started and that, Deano, is exactly what you've got…now cope with it."

Considering briefly a move to wrap his hands around the smirking Archangel's throat, Dean had started to twitch when Gabriel winked. "Never let it be said that I never did you a favor," he added with a snap of his fingers.

Blinking, Bobby barely had a chance to move before Sam collapsed as a move from the joke playing Archangel took them from the Campbell place back to Bobby's place in a blink and the boy's injuries, along with recent shocks, took them both out by the Angel transport.

"Damn stupid featherbrain idjits!" Bobby yelled, pinning Castiel with a dark look. "Help me get these boys upstairs and then you'd better find me some damn answers!" he growled, ignoring Rufus complaining about checking Bobby's own wounds. "First, we deal with my boys and then you can hover, you old fool."

"Right, gonna end up hovering over all of 'em," Rufus snorted, wrapping Dean's good arm around his over his shoulders to get the younger man up the steps while he hoped that this sorted itself out before someone did something drastic.

Seventy-Two Hours later:

Groaning as pain shot through every inch of his body, Dean bit back an oath as he decided to lay still and allow his body to resettle. Memories seemed scattered as he tried to recall why he felt like he did right after waking up from being electrocuted.

Keeping his eyes closed, he listened to the happy laugh of his little brother coming from outside and he relaxed a little more with the knowledge that Sammy was safely playing outside at…

"Sammy?" forgetting the pain, Dean sat straight up. Looking up, he quickly came to realize he was in the room that he and Sam had always shared at Bobby's.

Shoving the blankets aside to grab the clean pair of jeans slung on the bottom of the bed, he noticed that he had bruises and stitches and a few new burns that he hadn't gotten in that dream world which meant that someone had done a number on him while he'd been in that state. He could easily guess who had done it and probably done worse to Sam which he promised to deal with later.

Looking down, he noticed both the burn and the stab wound on his shoulder had been dressed but he could tell the wounds were infected even before he noticed the world spin a little but then his brother's laughter caught him again and he almost relaxed, pleased that Sam was safe and happy and…

The memories suddenly came back of leaving Sam, going to Lisa's place, of being attacked by things sicced on them by their very own grandfather and finally of Sam being…dead and then being… "Sonuvabitch!" he snarled, grabbing his T-shirt as he bolted from the bedroom. "Sammy!"

Ignoring the pain he was still in, Dean tore down the steps from the second floor and was out the front door a second later only to pull to a stop. "Sam?"

Forgetting about the winters in South Dakota, Dean was amazed that the junkyard he's left…he had no clue how long ago, was now covered in snow but it was in the snowy front yard that he found his little brother playing with the puppy.

Both were covered in snow as the puppy bounded around Sam who tried to catch him only to find himself falling into piles of thick snow and laughing as he had when they'd been kids…when Sam had been…

"You take a step off this porch without shoes on and I'll tan your hide six ways to Sunday, boy!" Bobby's voice growled from behind him as the older man stepped out to hold out Dean's leather jacket. "You've been out like a light from those injuries and that infection for almost four damn days while I've been coping with both Rufus and that brother of yours all by myself."

Touching the jacket, Dean remembered the day he'd left Bobby's. He'd safely tucked his brother into this very jacket and had wrongly assumed all would be well. "How bad is he?" he finally decided to ask, taking the jacket but not putting it on as the puppy jumped up to knock the younger man back down into the snow.

"He took a hell of a beating that's for damn sure and those IV's did a number on him but I ain't been able to check on 'em since he woke up because the kid freaks if Rufus or I go near him," Bobby told him with a dark look. "Sam! Grab that mutt of yours and get your ass inside!" he hollered, narrowing his eyes when he caught the faintly mutinous glare. "Your brother's awake!"

That did the trick as the older hunter knew it would because as soon as Sam heard it, his head shot around and the boyishly happy expression that he'd often had when they'd been kids and the one that he had started getting again to a point in the past few months lit his face even as both he and Boo tore out of the snow to the porch.

"Dean!" he hit his older brother full force with the same enthusiasm that eight year old Sammy had always showed his older brother. "I thought you'd never wake up and Uncle Bobby said I couldn't wake you up cause you were sick and I still don't feel good but it's snowing so the puppy and I play outside or else he and Uncle Rufus threaten to…"

"Sammy, slow down and try that so that I can understand more than every five words," Dean had to laugh at his brother's childlike happiness but a piece of him had hoped that with proper sleep and the time to ease the shock out of his system that his memories would return to normal. No such luck.

Bobby ushered both Winchesters back inside, muttering about stubborn idjits with no good sense and groaning as the puppy tore past them but left a trail of melting snow behind him. "Rufus! Grab that mutt before it…" a crashing from the living room was soon followed by Rufus Turner shouting. "Too late."

"I'll get him," Sam offered, tossing an ill-fitting winter coat over the coat rack which was soon followed by hat, gloves and boots before he took off after the barking puppy and yelling hunter. "You comin', De'n?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second, Sammy," Dean assured him, waiting until his brother disappeared down the hall to step into the library to slump down on the sofa seat. "God, this so isn't fair for him, Bobby."

The grizzled older hunter had pulled the pocket doors closed so the younger Winchester wouldn't hear. "Castiel was here to say that Sam's mind might snap back once he's had more chance to feel safe but you'll have to be there for him either way," he warned, noticing that Dean was still favoring his right side. "You wanna talk, Dean? I know you got most of those by the human element involved but that shoulder…just what the hell happened?"

"They wanted to break us emotionally by making us, since I'm guessing Sammy went through the same crap, see the bad and the worst things…some real and some not so much," Dean muttered, running his left hand through his hair. "I went from Lisa's house to my burning house with my Mother in my face though I've changed my mind about killer clowns."

Listening to Dean explain what he remembered, Bobby's anger toward the Campbell family grew again. Making the boys, either of them, face their worst nightmares was one thing but to make 'em face their loved ones or each other would have been worse.

"Sammy…" Dean shook his head. "They tried to make me see a version of Sam that had turned on me but in the end, he saved my life. He helped me and I owe it to that to get Sam through this. I can get him back, Bobby because he didn't ask for this. He trusted me to protect him like I always said I would but I knew from the moment I found him in there that he'd suffered through something that hurt him. He came back after what they did to him before…he'll come back this time."

Listening to the oldest Winchester, Bobby could tell the boy was convincing himself of that because it was something that Dean needed to believe in. "A lot happened this time that we don't know about, Dean," he reminded him grimly, knowing what he and Rufus had saw in that room. Also, what he saw while treating the wounds…things that he wouldn't tell Dean about right away.

"You mean that Samuel probably turned his sadistic sons of bitches loose on Sam like he did when they hurt him a year ago?" Dean replied, eyes wanting to close but knowing he needed to check on Sam first. "Or that he was totally aware physically and mentally of his surroundings even while he couldn't move to protect himself as he was forced to relive crap that never should've happened?"

"Dean," Bobby heard the unspoken anger in the boy's voice and knew that someone would eventually pay for Sam's injuries and pain and pay dearly. "You can't protect Sam all the damn time. I've told you that before. He's not a kid anymore and no one could've seen this…"

"I knew there was something wrong, Bobby and I should've listened to my gut when it said not to leave him," Dean argued, pushing back up in order to go find Sam. "Samuel and the Campbells set my nerves on edge but hell, not even I thought the old man would pull this crap or for this reason."

Not knowing what to say to ease his guilt since Bobby was well aware that Dean had been living on guilt since he'd been a boy, he just chose to wait to see how the brothers would handle this latest curve in their lives.

Stepping into the living room which was rarely used and even now felt more formal than the warmer feel that the library had, Dean's gaze was drawn to the large seven-foot fully decorated Christmas tree sitting in front of the double windows. "Who are you and what did you do with my grumpy pal?"

"Oh, stick a sock in it, ya damn idjit," Bobby growled while waving off the idea that he'd gone out of his way to get a tree for the boys despite his original refusal to have the messy thing in his house. "Jodi, I mean Sheriff Mills, dropped this thing off because it was the last one old man Tibbit had on his tree farm and she hated to see it left behind."

"So she just happened to drop off the very tree that I'd been looking at to get for Sam when I got back from Lisa's?" Dean's eyebrows rose when something else drew him to the tree. "God, I haven't seen these since Sam left for college," he murmured, lifting a small handmade ornament and recognizing it as one his brother had made shortly after starting school. "I thought Dad had…"

"John dropped a lot of stuff off that year," Bobby remarked, watching as Dean slowly took in each ornament that he and his brother had ever made as children. "He said he didn't want this stuff bangin' around in the Impala getting' broke so he left it here."

Dean noticed a small angel that he'd made in first grade hanging by a soccer ball that Sam had made John when he noticed a head of floppy brown hair curled next to the tree by the burning fireplace with the puppy curled beside him.

Kneeling down, he lightly carded fingers through his brother's hair and was rewarded with a sleepy murmur and sleep filled eyes. "Hey, little brother," he smiled gently, not moving his hand from where it rested on Sam's neck. "You feelin' better?"

"My hand hurts and I feel sorta bad all over but Uncle Bobby said I'll get better," Sam yawned, opening his good hand to show the amulet he still held. "You want this back now?"

Lightly running a finger over the amulet, Dean remembered placing the amulet in his brother's hand in that place and knowing that shortly after finding Sam in that warehouse his brother had clung to the amulet as much as he had Dean. "Nah, you hang onto it for me for a little while," he replied carefully, fighting not to groan as he sat beside Sam on the floor. "Sammy, we need to talk about something."

"What?" Sam shivered despite being close to a roaring fire, scooting closer to his brother on instinct. "I do something wrong? Is that why Dad's not calling?" he asked, biting his lip. "I tried to call Pastor Jim but…"

Hearing Bobby groan, Dean shot the older man a look before focusing on Sam. "No, Sam, you didn't do anything wrong and Dad…Dad's just busy but he'll be here soon," he promised, still amazed at how easy that lie came to him even after all these years. "Sammy…" he stopped when those same big eyes that he'd grown up with just gazed at him with an innocence that he hadn't seen in years.

He'd often thought, hell he'd prayed more than he liked, that Sam could be given another chance at having that innocence again but…he wasn't sure if this was the right way to go about it. He didn't want his brother back like this because how will Sam react once he has to be told that their Father has been dead for six years?

Leaning back against the worn out sofa, Dean stretched his legs out in front of him while carefully placing the leather jacket over Sam. "Do you remember Flagstaff, Sam?" he asked easily, surprised to feel a slight jerk in the body next to him as his brother moved from his position by the fire to up against Dean's left side as if knowing his right side had the worst injuries.

"I…I think we stayed there one time," his voice dropped in the way that Dean knew meant Sam was uneasy while his hand tightened around the amulet but then he noticed the jacket. "This is your…Dad's jacket."

When Sam had been eight, the leather jacket had still been John's so that small slip gave Dean hope that it wasn't too late. "I told you before I left for Lisa's that you could wear the jacket, Sammy," he reminded the younger man, feeling if not seeing Bobby tense. "How'd you hurt your hand, Sam?"

"How'd you hurt your shoulder?" he countered in that way that Sam had when he wanted to avoid questions. "Dad'll be mad when he comes…home and…" he slowly trailed off as if thinking about something but then blinked. "De'n, you aren't leaving, are you?"

The tone warned him that something had clicked but he wasn't sure what yet. "Why would I leave, Sam?" Dean countered, wanting to wince against the pain that shot through his ribs as Sam's arms latched on tightly. "You know that I'm always there for you."

"Not always," came the bitter retort and with a surprising agility, Sam pushed to his feet to begin to roam restlessly. "You leave, Dad leaves and…or…"

"I leave and you get hurt," Dean finished, easing up while trying to not use his right arm when pain suddenly seared in a deep cut in his side. "Damn."

Bobby had moved to grip Dean's bicep and keep him from falling. "You need to get your butt back in a bed, boy," he declared firmly, noticing that Sam was watching his brother closely before coming near him. "He'll be fine, Sam. Your brother's just as bullheaded as your Dad at times."

"No insults when I'm down, Bobby," Dean muttered, swearing that as soon as he could move his arm without passing out that he'd kill his damn grandfather. "Sammy, listen…I know you're confused right now but…"

"I don' want you to go," Sam suddenly said, fear in his voice when he grabbed for his brother's arm. "I know I deserve it but…I'll be good, just don' go."

Batting Bobby away, Dean was able to grab onto Sam before his upset little brother could run from the room. "Sam, Bobby's just talking about going upstairs or hell, crashing on the couch, not going to Cali…not going to Flor…damn, has there been a damn state where nothing bad happened to us?"

"You're a Winchester so I doubt it," Bobby muttered, not liking the panic that he saw forming in the younger boy. "You both should be in bed so what say you hightail it upstairs to your room while Rufus and I grab that featherbrain you call an Angel and…"

"No!" Sam's shout took both men off guard as he grabbed for Dean's arm. "Just you, Dean! Don' wan' nobody else. No Angels…just…please don't…"

At a complete loss to what could have caused this reaction, Dean stared blankly until the terror got through and he caught Sam in his arms to keep him still, easing down on the sofa. "Sammy, tell me what's wrong," he urged, not liking the sudden warmth coming off his brother's cheeks.

"Nightmares, De'," Sam whispered, burying his face against his brother's neck to avoid the burning images in his mind that had been chasing him. "Keep seeing…flames, black eyed people…Angels…I see Dad but not Dad and…you…why would Daddy hurt you so bad, De?"

Swallowing the lump, Dean shot Bobby a concerned look while he tried to soothe. "Sammy, you're fevered again. You need to let Bobby check your wounds or…"

"You," his brother's eyes were closed and when did open his eyes all Dean saw were the blown pupils of a feverish Sammy and his own pain was forgotten. "Please."

When he carded his fingers through Sam's hair, he felt it soaking wet with sweat. "Upstairs, Sammy," he urged gently, getting the boy to his feet was one thing but controlling a feverish, 6'4" young brother who had always liked to cling when sick, hurt or drunk to get him up the steps to the bedroom would be another matter entirely. "I'll check you out upstairs."

Waiting until he got a nod, Dean's left arm was firm around his brother while he shot Bobby a dark look. "Find Cas," he hissed.

It took Dean close to ten minutes to maneuver Sam upstairs and then another twenty to get most of his clothes off just to check the wounds. "Damn, I'm glad Bobby never insisted on this many layers when we were kids or I'd've never gotten you dressed or undressed," he muttered under his breath, pushing his brother back on the bed before he could make a break for the door again.

Dean had dealt with the bulky outer layer of clothes before fighting with Sam to remove the hoodie that had become his favorite since his brother had bought it and then came the two thinner layer of clothes until he finally came to the first layer of deep purplish bruises that marred his brother's skin.

"Uh-huh, you're staying put while I check this…" Dean had placed a hand on Sam's chest to keep him still when his eyes turned hard.

He had remembered the brand and the many wounds he had seen that night but as he shifted Sam onto his side to check his back he caught site of the small of his back and a reopened wound that he had barely gotten to heal the first damn time. This time, the wound seemed different. It was made larger to extend more up his back while a small round taser like burn was deeply infected on the base of his neck.

"De?" jerking at the touch, Sam seemed to tense at the hand that ran up his back. "No…don't…won' let you…" he was trembling, voice shaking as badly as he seemed to be. "Sa…Samuel…no…Dad, wan' Dean…Lee hurt and…nnnooo!"

The scream tore from Sam's throat and the only thing that warned Dean that a blow would be coming next was how his body curled and his fists clenched.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, grabbing the fist before it could connect when his suddenly violent brother bucked hard to twist free of what he felt as hands restraining him but it was the screams that once again tore at him. "Damn it, Sam, it's me! Dean!"

"No, Dean's gone…he went away…I was bad and he…" Sam strained to get free but his brother's grip kept him still as Bobby and Rufus ran in. "Dad, don't let him…Lee…Samuel, why…I…" he struggled while the words came out as broken sobs until… "DEAN!"

Jaw tight with suppressed rage and emotions he'd rather not show at all making his voice husky as he swore, pulling Sam up off the bed and into his arms to keep him still and hopefully ground him in whatever reality he could until he calmed down some.

"Shhh, Sammy, it's fine," he whispered, wanting to rub the usual circles or signals against his brother's back or shoulder but was worried that the calming touch would upset him more. "It's Dean, little brother. I'm with you and you're gonna be fine. No one is going to hurt you or touch you again or…I'll feed 'em their damn lungs," he finished. letting his eyes close in order to shield the pain from both his brother and the older hunters when slowly the strangled sobs became soft cried against his chest and he automatically began to rock. "It's alright, Sammy. Big brother's here and I swear that I'm not leaving again."

Fighting back the tears that wanted to come, Dean looked up at the rustle of feathers and two fingers touching Sam's forehead immediately eased his brother into a more peaceful sleep. "I told you never to do that to him."

"Sam's emotions were increasing in ways that would make his situation worse so I decided sleep would be best," Castiel spoke grimly, taking in Dean's appearance and seeing both the physical and emotional pain he was burying. "You asked for me?"

Nodding, Dean slowly eased away from his little brother to stand; his eyes sliding over Sam's exposed back as the younger hunter curled himself into a ball, the amulet hanging loose from a clenched fist and only a constant touch on either his shoulder or neck seemed to be keeping him still if not remotely calm.

"He's scared of Angels, got a reason or should I just Holy Oil your damn ass now?" he demanded, keeping his voice low despite the anger bubbling in his chest. "What the hell happened to us, to him, while we were in that place and did you know about that bastard?" it was clear that he was aiming both questions at different people.

Castiel's face remained impassive while Bobby's eyes seemed to find the ceiling interesting but if there was one thing that Dean Winchester was it was stubborn and he wasn't letting either Angel or mentor off the hook now.

"Bobby? You and Rufus were there. I don't give a crap about me because I'll take what they dish out but I want to know what they did to my brother. I want to know what he saw, before in Lawrence and now, that makes him think I'm either gone or that I'll leave him," he stated, then pinned Bobby with a darker glance. "You can also tell me what you know about Lee Stanton and that my Father had damn well better have really dealt with him or else you're gonna tell me where he is so I can."

Rufus was watching this scene because the young man's tone was taking on a harder edge as it had some months back after he'd pulled his kid brother out of that hellhole of a warehouse. "Lee Stanton?" he repeated the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Never met the asshole but I've heard about him," he figured Bobby could cuss him out later but right now he wanted the kid's focus switched. "Didn't I hear that he screwed up on a job down South and got himself killed?" the query was aimed at Bobby but it was clear that he wasn't really asking. "Heard he got himself ate by some swamp monster cause ain't no one ever found his body and that's going on eight or nine years."

"Dean, this went down during that time after your Daddy and I had that last falling out," Bobby sighed, looking between the brothers to see the elder Winchester's fingers had yet to stop their soothing motion over his brother's hair even though the eyes were dead serious. "Caleb called me one day. He said that John had shown up on his door bleedin' like a stuck pig and muttering about the stupid no good son of a bitch got what he had comin' to him," he paused to recall that phone call. "He said that John looked pretty shaken and when John asked him to help dispose of the body he knew why. John, I guess, did some number on Stanton for whatever reason and Caleb helped him get rid of the body so yeah, he's dead."

Seeming satisfied with that for the moment, the young hunter switched focus to Castiel. "I know Raphael had his ass involved in whatever the hell this was but what I want from you right now is for you to show me what he's seen."

"Dean, no," the Angel actually frowned, the gaze of his vessel going between the Winchesters. "Sam will be traumatized enough if he comes out of this state without knowing that you've learned things that he would not want you to know," he replied. "It's why he never told you about the nightmares that he's continued to have or the remnants of the visions that the Djinn poison made him see. Sam was afraid and…"

"If you knew about these 'nightmares' you should've told me, Cas," Dean snapped, not believing this. "After all the crap we've dealt with together, Cas…you should've known to tell me if Sam was keeping stuff inside to 'protect' me. It's my damn job to protect him, not the other way around."

"Sam has been made to believe that you stay out of some misbegotten sense of loyalty or guilt. The world he was kept in for a year showed him the worst of realities. It showed him your life without him, how happy you were without him and it also showed him…how bad you had it with him," Castiel was grim, seeing how tight Sam's face was becoming in his sleep. "This time, he fought the images with as much help as could be given but…toward the end they found a weakness that was hard to fight and along with the extra drugs, the injuries, and his already weakened state, Sam's mind was too open so to protect himself and you, he's pushed his mind deeper into his subconscious."

Not liking how that sounded or the way Dean tensed, Bobby slapped their resident Angel in the back of the head like he often did the boys. "So, you sayin' that his mind can come out of this whole again or what?"

"I'm saying that if Sam's mind heals from the damage inflicted and the shock and fear that he may emerge whole again," Castiel's tone didn't leave any of the hunters leaping for joy especially when he chose to add. "However, it may take decades for that to happen."

"That's super," Dean muttered sarcastically, turning to stalk to the window to watch the lights of the decorations he and Sam had put up shine on the snow. "So, he'll be eight years old in his damn mind for however long it takes me to convince him that it's safe?"

Castiel seemed to frown which was always a bad sign when he used a purely human gesture. "Safe is a relative human term, Dean," he commented. "Sam will never be fully safe while your grandfather is still out there and so long as he has access to the type of drug he used on Sam this time. It was only luck that you got him some of the antidote or he probably would be worse off than…what?"

"We never gave him anything," Bobby replied after checking with Rufus and getting a nod. "What kind of drug you talkin' about?"

"Slow acting, very painful. It would have slowly destroyed him from the inside without the antidote but if you didn't give it to him then…" Castiel seemed to consider things before nodding. "I suppose it's possible that somehow in that place one of the…help might've given him enough of it to keep him alive but it is possible that he will have physical aftereffects from that drug."

Dean's reflection showed the briefest flash of emotion before he buried it, turning. "Show me what he saw," he ordered simply, not asking this time. "If you don't want to show me what they did to Sammy then show me what he's been seeing. Show me, Cas!" he shouted when the Angel seemed to hesitate.

Exchanging a grim look with Bobby, who could only shrug, Castiel finally placed a hand on Sam's tense brow before reaching to lay his other on Dean's with only a mild warning. "This will hurt…"

"Whoa, hurt? Hurt who?" Dean started to ask when he was deluged with images, memories, and emotions from his little brother.

Even though he could tell that either Castiel or Sam himself was keeping the more violent images away, he saw his brother shortly after he was returned from the Cage. How broke and frightened he was and how the Campbells easily could manipulate his emotions. A boy who had always longed for a normal family determined to protect the family he did have, the brother he wanted, had been easy pickings for Samuel's schemes.

Much of Sam's memories would only show themselves in shadows but Dean didn't need images when he could feel the fear, the pain, the shame, and betrayal that his brother felt and then came the pain of his imprisonment for a year at the hands of the 'shifter and…

"Anything in here valuable?" Rufus wanted to know when he saw the way Dean's face was tightening, the vein that had begun to pound in his forehead and the way his fists had balled as if ready for violence.

"Dean…" Bobby wanted to step forward but something in the older Winchester brother's expression warned him not to.

Green eyes hard, Dean gazed at his sleeping brother and those hard eyes softened a little. "God, Sammy, why haven't you told me?" he asked the air, kneeling beside the bed to soothe when Sam moaned in his sleep, twisting restlessly but it was the softly mumbled words that reminded Dean of why he hated people.

He had always figured that between the 'shifter, Michael and Lucifer that Sam had been made to relive his worst moments, along with probably a few of Dean's worst times. He hadn't counted on all the memories that Sam had hidden from him and it were those that made his stomach turn, his blood run to ice, and his anger spill dangerously close to the surface.

"Sammy," he whispered, carding his fingers through his brother's hair and over his face, feeling tears that Sam had again cried in his sleep. "It's okay, Sammy," he promised, taking the amulet that was hanging loose and squeezing shaking fingers around it while he laid his leather jacket over his brother. "You sleep, little brother. I'll…I'll be back."

Pushing to his feet, his hand stroked one final time down a trembling shoulder before grabbing the Angel by the front of his trench coat to yank him to within an inch of his face. "You make damn sure he sleeps peacefully tonight, Cas. Give Sammy at least tonight without the dreams, the freakin' nightmares or memories that are tingling at the surface," he growled, wanting to stay by his brother but also knowing that he needed out for a while too.

"Dean, you need to get sleep too," Bobby tried to advise but rolled his eyes and muttered about stubborn idjits even as a fist suddenly flew into the hall wall. "Hey! You put holes in my house, boy, and you'll be fixin' them!"

"It didn't a genuis to know that damn 'shifter had tortured Sammy last year while he had him and I knew other crap had happened that he wasn't ready to share yet but to find out that Samuel's people had done most of the crap to him…" he kept seeing his brother as he'd found him a few months ago, chained to a bed in that warehouse in filth.

To know that people who should have been family had done that to his little brother on top of things that had he known he would have made certain Christian died much more painfully and certainly knew some of the fear and shame that he had made Sam know.

"Dean, your brother wouldn't have told you any of that because Sam's a proud boy, always was, and he has always wanted you to be proud of him," Bobby remarked, laying a hand out but frowned when the shoulder he'd meant to touch jerked away and the boy whirled.

"I've always been proud of him, Bobby!" Dean snapped, wincing at the sharp warning look the older man shot him and struggled to lower his voice so he didn't wake his brother. "Damn it, you know that I've been proud of that kid since he learned to walk but I'm supposed to be the one to protect him. People hurt my brother, I make 'em bleed. That's the way it's always been and the way it'll be until I'm dead!"

Stalking the hall in long strides that warned Bobby the best thing to do was to just let the boy rant for a little while…or until he said something the older hunter didn't approve of.

"I've protected him since he was a baby. I never doubted or hated anything that I might've had to give up to raise Sammy despite what he was showed anything that happened in my life, I let happen," Dean growled, whirling to pin his friend with vivid eyes. "You had damn well better not have known about any of those times that Dad lit into him. I worked damn hard deflecting Dad's anger away from Sammy. Did you know?" he demanded. "Did you ever see Sam hurt? Did you ever see our Dad lay a finger on him?"

"Dean, you know damn good and well how John and I got along over his treatment of you boys," Bobby snorted, seeing those eyes narrow. "I suspected a couple times that John and Sam had been fighting. The first was one time you'd been put in the hospital when a hunt went wrong. Your Dad blamed Sam and by the time I cleaned up the hunt and got to the hospital your brother had a few bruises he couldn't explain but if I pushed the boy got panicked so I dropped it," he admitted warily, seeing the fire in the young man's eyes. "The other was right before Sam turned sixteen. He and John were fighting while you were with Caleb and Jim. That's when something happened to make Sam run to you and your Daddy was furious."

Dean recalled that image well since he doubted if he'd get the vision of his little brother huddled in the filthy bathroom out of his head. "Yeah, Dad's pal, Stanton, he took Sam out for his birthday, got him drunk, drugged him and…" the words faltered, refusing to say them aloud when his little brother was sleeping so close. "I didn't see the actual…attack but I saw Sam afterward and it all made sense why he showed up like he did and…" a long pause before this fist did sink into the wall with a loud curse. "Sonuvabitch."

"You wake Sam up and I'll pound your damn skull in, ya idjit," Bobby hissed. "Dean, you can't keep blaming yourself for this. Sam wouldn't want you to blame yourself for either this attack or his injuries or…"

"I'm his brother, Bobby!" came the bitter retort, voice raising slightly. "I swore to him when he was a baby that I'd protect him and I promised him before I left him this time that things would be fine. I let him be tortured by those bastards! I let them put a brand on him! I didn't protect him when they shoved a goddamn tube down his throat again or hooked that IV up to him again or…"

Bobby had finally had enough. He grabbed the elder brother by his arm, hauling him away from their shared bedroom so the yelling that was to come didn't wake Sam. "You were trussed up just as much as Sam, Dean!" he reminded loudly, refusing his basic urge to slap the sense into this boy. "You were trapped in your own nightmares so how'd ya plan to help your brother?"

"It was me Samuel wanted to hurt so he should've just went after me. They didn't need to hurt Sammy," Dean argued in a strained voice. "Hell, I can take what they do to me but don't hurt my brother. I'm the one who went back in time, I'm the one who stirred all that up and…"

"Boy, you ain't stupid. You gotta know that old man sealed his family's fate when he made his own damn deal to get rid of John even before he married your Mom," Bobby argued, hearing a sound from the bedroom. "Dean, you're too angry to…"

Ignoring him, Dean headed back to the room he and Sam had always shared to see that Castiel had vanished again and Sam was twisting in his sleep. "I'm going to smack him the next time he shows up," he promised softly, sitting beside his uneasy sibling to place a gentle hand on the shoulder closest to him.

"Nooo," Sam whimpered, his hands moving as if her were reaching were something or someone. "Dad…don' wanna…don' want De'n to…"

Face tightening while he struggled to bury the emotions his brother's whimpers were causing in him, Dean lightly squeezed to reassure the sleeping young man. "Shhh, I'm right here, Sammy. I'm not leaving you and I'm not failing you again either."

"Dean, you ain't never failed Sam," Bobby growled lowly, feeling the urge to smack the older Winchester again or slam his own head into a brick wall for dealing with stubborn idjits. "Your Daddy failed you both plenty of times but you've never failed him, Dean."

Shifting on the bed so that he could turn an unbelieving look on Bobby, Dean made a face that was part smirk and part disgust. "All I've ever done is fail him, Bobby," he argued bitterly. "I couldn't give him the normal life that he wanted as a kid even though I did everything I could to make it as normal as possible. I couldn't protect him from the life that I knew Dad was getting us into because I sure as hell never wanted my baby brother turned into a damn hunter. I accepted that my life was forfeit and gave it up to Dad's plans but I never wanted Sam brought into it, Bobby. I tried to keep him safe from when Dad got angry. Hell, I'd get into Dad's face if I knew he was angry with Sammy just to deflect the rage offa him. I didn't give a crap about the beatings I took so long as I knew that he never put a hand on my brother. Now I find out that maybe I failed at that too."

Bobby motioned Rufus back a step, knowing that it was exhaustion, pain, and worry that had loosened Dean's tongue since he was damn certain that under normal circumstances he wouldn't be this talkative. "You were a kid. Jim and I should've been watching…"

"I was his brother!" Dean repeated more strongly this time. "I was four years old when I swore to him that I would always keep him safe. I raised him. It was my job to protect him from every goddamn thing. From the monsters in his closet that Dad merely gave him a .45 to fight, to the darkness that got so deep in Dad that he forgot he had sons and not soldiers, to every goddamn thing else that tried to hurt him. I couldn't protect him from the crap that went on behind my back. When Dad would send me out alone or with Caleb or after Sam went to school. Hell, I couldn't even protect him when I got him back!" he heard his own voice raise, rubbing a shaking hand down his weary face to stand. "I've let everyone use him. Dad, demons, Angels, the goddamn Devil and now a guy who should've been family to Sam. You can rationalize it all you want, Bobby but in the end it'll always be my damn fault what happens to Sam because I didn't do what I should've when he was thirteen. I didn't take him and run the night I threatened to put a .45 caliber round in my Father's heart if he ever went to hurt Sam. Anything after that, is on my head."

Giving his brother's shoulder a final touch to ease the trembling, Dean walked out of the bedroom to leave the two older hunters to stare after him.

"Damn," Rufus finally spoke with a shake of his head. "Kid got guilt much?"

Bobby growled under his breath and Rufus was pretty certain that if he could get John Winchester in his sights that a shotgun would be going off.

The sound of something crashing outside soon had them hurrying to see what Dean was destroying in his dark mood and neither noticed the change in Sam's breathing or the silent tears that fell when hazel eyes opened to slits after hearing the last of his brother's broken confession.

"Y'know, I told you once that I didn't think anyone could get more intense or moody than you with a sharp object in your hands," Gabriel spoke from the corner of the room after he'd decided it was safe to become more than shadow and air. "I was wrong yet again. That brother of yours is scary intense when he's got the whole guilt/anger/big brother failing thing going on, Sammy-boy."

Sam had been awake for a while, listening to his brother and hearing the pain in his voice. His scattered minds didn't understand a lot of what was said even though he knew that he should. He also knew that it was partly because of this that Dean was hurting right now. Whatever had hurt him this time, whatever had messed things up, had hurt his brother because Sam understood that something else was wrong with him.

He also knew that he should know this candy bar eating man who was now standing and watching him curiously but the only images that came were of Dean dying repeatedly and of…

"I didn't yank you outta the Cage with my brothers just so you could end up like this, kiddo," Gabriel remarked, plopping down on the bottom of the bed with ease but winced as another sound came. "Guess Singer won't have to gripe about those decorations you and Dean put up if your brother keeps destroying them."

Watching the man warily, Sam's fingers tightened on his brother's jacket and looked down automatically at it. Memories of another time when Dean let him cling to this entering his mind and making him begin to sweat as he tensed in fear of the memories, of feeling the straps, of feeling…

"I wish I could wipe the bad crap outta that giant brain, Sam, but it wouldn't help," Gabriel told him seriously. "You know who you are, you know that you're not eight. You know Dean, you know about the year you lost after I dragged you out of the Cage…I really need to slap Cas for lettin' that happen, and you know about what happened to you this time. You just need to reconnect with your brain cause right now it's on vacation and it's time you came back before Dean goes and does something more than stupid."

Blinking, Sam could have asked what that meant but the terror at remembering his nightmares made him shake. "I don't want…" he started to say when something else came to him. "Dean?"

"Kiddo, if you were a whole boy right now and could remember Florida, the rage you felt at me is nothing to what's building in your big brother," Gabriel replied, popping the last bit of candy into his mouth. "Dean's planning on something that's going to blow up in his face if he goes after Campbell right now so it's time you woke your butt up and give him the little brother puppy dog eyes that can keep him grounded," he coughed slightly. "You just might not like how I have to do that. Sorry, Sam." he apologized just as he put two fingers to the younger hunter's forehead and then gently eased him down on the bed. "Now, to find out what that damn demon's doing with baldy."

Gasping as breath turned to smoke in the sudden cold, Sam shivered. Forcing his eyes open to find that he was lying in the back seat of the Impala, a frown formed.

He seemed to recall his brother placing him there but those memories were spotty at best. He recalled the attacks, the images, the fears and the knowledge that he'd been drugged again.

Sam could also remember his brother killed Christian but things got darker after that, his memories less coherent except for scattered images and sounds.

Pushing open the door, he eased out of the car to try to figure out where in the hell he was but only saw darkness. The Impala was parked alongside a blacktop road in some heavy trees but nothing else seemed familiar to him.

Wondering if he was dead or if this was the start of his nightmares, Sam took a step but fell against the car when his legs gave out.

"You're still fighting off the drugs," a voice that he knew spoke from beside him but he was slow to turn, not sure if he wanted to see…

"Hey, Sam, we need to talk about…us," his thirteen-year-old self was sitting on the trunk of the car watching him with Sam's own eyes.

A/N: First, sorry for the delay. Real life intruded and this one didn't want to come together. One more chapter should tie it up as Sam struggles to recover his memories and Dean struggles to keep them both going and Bobby…Bobby just wants not to shoot someone by this point. Also, is this the last of Grandpa Campbell? Will he make another move on the boys or has he learned his lesson? I promise, the next update won't take so long.