Hunter of The Shadows
Chapter 21
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Something black rubs the lens, snuffles a little, then draws away to reveal a huge muzzle, tongue lolling down in a playful grin, and leaving a smear of drool in its wake.
A low chuckle is heard from the main entrance to the cabin, then Dean appears. He sets down an armful of logs, pulls off his jacket, then strides across the room, and begins polishing the lens with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
"Mind not getting your snout mess over the camera, dude?"
The young wolf glances up at his fatherbrother, silky dark red fur gleaming by the light of the fire, shifting his weight from paw to paw, as though eager and nervous all at once.
"C'mere Sammy."
In spite of the apparent levity, the atmosphere is fairly sombre, but lifts slightly when Dean drops into a crouch and wraps an arm around Sam, gently stroking his ears and talking quietly.
"I know you wanna go hunt, but let's just wait a while longer ok? Until you're a little stronger. S'only been a few days since I removed that last fragment of silver, and I know your hip's still sore as hell. Getting shot'll do thatchya know!" Dean chuckles again when Sam whines softly, leans in and slobbers over his chin. "Hey! Cut that out wouldya?"
Sam suddenly lets out a huge, doggy-like sneeze... all over Dean's face. The pup is clearly laughing whilst Dean's glaring at him, one eye closed, and wolf snot dribbling down his nose.
"Well, that's just charming," Dean wipes off his face with the other sleeve, glances at the camera and grimaces in disgust. "Ya see what I have to put up with? Abuse! You think this is bad..." he leans towards the camera, conspiratorially. "Ya know, he farts too? A lot!... ow!"
Sam wolf-grins smugly, watching as Dean rubs his own ear.
"You finished, hound?"
Dipping his head, and planting a paw across his muzzle, Sam pretends shame, though his eyes gleam with sweet mischief.
Dean shakes his head in mock exasperation.
"Now, let's not leave our audience hanging, huh? Nobody likes evil cliff hangers." Dean studies Sam for a moment, as though listening to something the camera can't pick up. "You don't remember much about that time huh? You were too badly hurt, but I was so godamned scared..."
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Sam shivered harshly on the bed, shirt cut away, revealing the damage in all its horror. Perspiration rolled off his body, mixed with the blood, and drenched the sheets. By the time this was all over, the bed was going to look like a Rorschach inkblot.
But in red.
Tobius and I had scrubbed clean and gloved up, ready for possibly the worst field surgery we'd ever had to perform.
The grappling hook glinted evilly in the overhead light, its prongs deeply tangled in Sam's gut. It was ingenious, designed to cause maximum damage and horrendous pain, and only a sicko like Gordon could have come up with it.
Or so I thought.
"They used these during the English civil war," Tobius announced quietly as he examined the contraption. "For torture. Witches weren't the only ones that suffered at the hands of the Witch Finder General. Matthew Hopkins knew about werewolves, but he was too smart to let onto the rest of the world. He was already walking a fine line with the witch trials. So he had his fun… in secret. The victim suffered greatly, before dying slowly and in horrible pain."
Just like the collar and manacles Gordon used on my boy.
Tobius nodded, sadly.
"Yes. Cruel, but effective."
I got the feeling he was holding back.
Like he had personal experience or something.
But I had little to say to that, just swallowed down my fear and got on with it for Sam's sake.
Sam already had Tobius' wonderful chelating agent flowing through his veins, mopping up any silver in its path. And the wolf's bane continued to do its job, protecting the kid from undergoing an agonising change.
He panted heavily into the oxygen mask, and I prayed the drugs would kick in soon. Sam was like a living, breathing pharmacy, and it would take him months to get his metabolism back on track, but it was better than seeing him in pain.
"Ok. Here we go," Tobius muttered.
He used a carefully sterilised scalpel to slice away at the skin around the hook. Blood welled up straight away, and I dabbed at it with a sterile swab.
Pulling the skin away and cutting it free, Sire took a deep breath, and began to tug at the metal.
Sam flinched, his muffled sobs breaking my heart all over again.
Easy kiddo. Try and stay still, ok?
Sam was too far gone to understand, eyes scrunched shut, eyebrows tightly drawn, and mouth twisted in a grimace.
There was little else I could do.
Please be ok.... beokbeokbeok...
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It took hours to remove the hook.
Hours of worry, fear and frustration. Sam fully lost consciousness well into the second hour, but whether that was down to the gaseous pain meds, blood loss, or to sheer exhaustion, I couldn't tell. Probably all three.
I bathed his face, neck and chest in cool water, whilst Tobius struggled with the surgery. And believe me, it was a struggle. Perhaps he could have just pulled the damn thing out, tearing Sam's intestines like beef in a food blender.
But Tobius chose the harder option. Carefully sliding each prong free and cutting away the damage. The benefit would mean a shortened recovery time for Sam.
But the downside was the prolonged presence of silver in Sam's body.
Fortunately, Caleb's gadgetry didn't involve slow poisoning. There would be no release of liquid silver into Sam's blood, and no danger of blindness or paralysis, provided the hook was removed soon enough.
So, Tobius chose surgery as the lesser of the two evils, figuring he could remove it before time ran out. Sam would still require plenty of rest, and it was likely the kid would be bedridden for a couple of days at least, a week at most. But that had to be better than the alternative. Merely ripping it free could result in several weeks, even months, of recovery, not to mention the unbelievable pain the kid would suffer.
"Dean, can you move that lamp over? That's it. Great." Tobius once again picked up the scalpel, and began slowly making another incision. His eyes flickered up to Sam's face, studying the kid worriedly through the plastic mask. But apart from a small whimper from time to time, the boy didn't stir.
"Ok. We're done." Tobius eventually grabbed a sterile swab and began the clean up. "Once we have him patched up, I'll give him some more of the chelating agent, just in case." He eyed the gage on the oxygen tank. "He's going to need more pain meds in an hour or two."
But I knew we carried a small spare under the passenger seat of the Impala.
Sire sank back into an easy chair and sighed tiredly.
"Well, it's certainly been an interesting evening," he remarked, dryly.
"You can say that again," I ground out, still running a washcloth over Sam's neck. "Can't believe he broke his promise." Tears threatened but I refused to let them fall. "I told him to stick by me, and the little shit just took off!"
"He's young and impetuous, Dean." Tobius leaned forward, resting elbows on knees. "Just like you."
"He's a reckless idiot!" I fumed in reply. "I was never this irresponsible!"
"Oh really?" Father seemed to be fighting a grin. "Perhaps you've forgotten how you tracked a werewolf for months, only to confront him in a dark alley with little or no training. How you intended to kill said werewolf for ruining your life, but instead were easily over-powered..." his eyes glowed with wry amusement. "Ringing any bells at all?"
"What? That's different!" I spluttered indignantly.
"Is it?" Tobius grew serious. "Because you were alone in the world, that made it ok to embark on a suicide mission? I don't think so, Dean. One thing you're forgetting here. Sam hasn't had the luxury of your experience. He doesn't have a werewolf child of his own to care for and raise. It's a responsibility and honour that has come to you by sheer fortune, with the added bonus that the child was once your brother. The closest Sam has come to it, is Josie and Gerald's little girl. And that just isn't the same thing at all."
He leaned back again and finished with "Try to forgive him, Dean. He was testing the waters, finding out how good he really is," Sire shrugged. "He simply got carried away."
I swallowed hard as I stroked the damps curls away from my son's cheek. Faint tremors ran down my spine and gory images flashed across my mind.
Sam's blood, his cries of pain, and the look on his face when Caleb tugged on the hook. Poor kid was devastated, and I wasn't far behind him on that score.
"I've already forgiven him." I glanced up at Sire with a small smile. "But I'm still kicking his ass for this!"
Tobius grinned back at me.
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
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My neck ached.
So did my back.
And it was entirely my own fault. Refusing to sleep, I stayed up watching over Sam, whispering to him when he fretted, checking his temperature and bathing him from time to time. Tobius was out taking care of business and cleaning up last night's mess.
I sure didn't envy him that task.
And so I woke up, slumped back in my chair, a few rays of sunlight blinding me when they cut through a gap in the curtains. Blinking and yawning, I sat up to find Sam watching me, warily.
"Hi. Good to see you awake at last." I raised an eyebrow. "How ya feeling?"
"Ok, I guess. Sore, but ok." Sam replied hesitantly, his voice a little croaky.
He looked a lot better, though tired and pale, with dark bruises under his eyes. I could feel his apprehension, eyes darkened with worry and pain. Any remaining anger drained away from me, and I moved to sit on the edge of his bed, both my hands reaching out to enfold his in a tight, desperate grip.
"Don't you ever..." I spoke softly, but made sure he could hear the fear in my voice, "ever, do that again. You scared the shit outta me, kid. I know you wanna prove yaself, I understand, believe me I do. But it wasn't worth it, Sammy. It just wasn't worth the risk of losing you."
Sam stared at me, nodding but not saying a word.
"You ever run into a fight like that again, without backup," I took a deep, shaky breath. "And I swear to God I will put you on a leash."
The kid obviously caught the glint in my eye because he started fighting a grin.
I smiled back, proudly.
Yeah, he'd disobeyed, broken a promise, and nearly got himself killed. But he'd pooled his training and experience, and shown a keen intelligence in the investigation. Not to mention one heavy set of balls in the field.
"Dean... Caleb..." Sam frowned, obviously embarking on a guilt trip.
"Don't do that," I whispered, squeezing his hands gently. "This was down to Gordon. Caleb just got sucked in."
Weren't Sam's fault that Caleb turned out to be the enemy. Guess it shocked the kid into faltering, making a damn near fatal mistake. Can't honestly say it wouldn't have played out any differently if I'd been in Sam's shoes.
"Want some cocoa, Sam?" I grinned suddenly, and held out a bag of mini-marshmallows.
His own smile grew, and a weight to seemed to lift off the both of us.
"Sure." Sam fidgeted with the blanket, shyly. "Any chance of some food? I'm pretty hungry."
And I didn't doubt he was. Sam's injuries had been pretty horrific, and the total body energy expenditure required to heal must have been sky high. The kid needed food for the healing to continue without hindrance, so the motel room's small kitchenette had been prepared whilst Sam slept.
"Coming right up!" I slapped his knee gently through the bed covers, then headed over to the cooler.
Tobius had us both hooked on his own version of the traditional English breakfast. Bacon, eggs (poached and scrambled), fried tomatoes and mushrooms, black pudding, baked beans, sausage, minted lamb cutlets, beef steaks, and, because Sammy needed all the fuel he could get, I decided to add a helping of hash browns.
When I popped my head up from the cooler to ask him which kind of sausage he wanted, I was greeted with a sight that spiked my temper, and I slammed the door, striding across the room, scowling deeply.
"What the hell do ya think you're doing?" I hissed, grasping Sam's arms, keeping him from falling flat on his face.
Sam sat on the edge of the bed, covers thrown back, head bowed and hands clutching at his wounded stomach. He was breathing hard from the effort of movement and, no doubt, the pain.
"I-I ju... just n-needed... the b-bathroom," he stuttered out in between gasps, shaking his head a little as if dizzy.
"Shoulda said something, dumbass," I muttered in half frustration, half worry, and gently pulled him to his feet. I held him still by his arms when he swayed, and the two of us just stood there for a few minutes, until he nodded tiredly. "Ok then. Let's take it slow, huh? Sure hope your bladder gave you plenty of notice, Sammy."
Sam huffed out a laugh.
"Yeah. It's been on standby for a while now, dude."
Grinning, I slipped an arm round his waist, pulling him into my side.
"Just lean on me, ok? Let me do all the work here." As we took a few slow steps forward, I couldn't help chuckling. "You don't need me to hold it for you, right? 'Cos, ya know, dude!"
Sam chortled, a little breathless.
"Nah. Think I can manage." He stopped moving for a moment, breathing hard, then stepped forward again. "Wouldn't wanna make ya jealous."
I snorted with derision.
"No chance of that, Sammydawg." And that earned me the famous Sam Winchester baleful glare.
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"How's the patient?" Tobius called out the moment he crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him. He shook rain water out of his hair and grinned. "Being patient I hope?"
"He's being a pain in the ass!" I answered, pretending a grumpiness I didn't really feel. "Sam, sit down!"
"I'm just trying to help!" Sam groused, then stifled a yawn.
"And you'd help a damn site better if you just got out from under my feet!" I snapped back.
I was standing at the sink, washing the pans, and Sam was shuffling slowly across the kitchen floor, carrying our empty breakfast plates. I knew what he was planning, as he glanced determinedly at the dish cloth. Yanking it out of reach, and slinging on the kitchen work top, I huffed and stared him down.
But those damn puppy dog eyes glistened with moisture, and the kid blinked, staring back at me mournfully.
"Sammy," I softened my stance when I realised this wasn't a ploy; he was genuinely upset. Probably still feeling guilty. "You can help out when you're feeling a little better, but for now, just sit down and relax. Ok? For my peace of mind?"
Sam nodded, hung his head, and slumped back down in his seat.
Tobius was drying his hair on a towel and watching the exchange carefully. I'd almost forgotten he was there.
"I left a plate for you in the oven." I turned and grabbed a clean knife and fork, laying them the kitchen table. "Should still be fairly hot."
"Poached eggs with runny yolk?" Tobius asked, hopefully, and I rolled my eyes a little. He was never comfortable using American terminology when it came to food, once told me he felt it was too complicated.
This coming from the guy who could work with old English pounds, shillings and pence, then convert to American dollars without even thinking about it. Go figure.
"Just the way you like 'em," I replied, and shook my head laughing when he beamed with happiness, and tucked right in.
Pouring hot milk into our mugs, I watched Sam from the corner of my eye. He looked shot to hell, and on the verge of falling asleep where he sat. Stirring in the chocolate powder, and adding the marshmallows, I decided he'd be more comfortable back in bed, but knew full well the kid would put up a fight.
"Hey Sam? How 'bout I run you a hot bath?" He'd definitely hit the sack after a bath. It was a habit.
"Uh..." Sam looked over at me with a grateful smile, and blinked heavily. "Sure. Sounds like a great idea."
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Once Sam was able to walk around for longer than five minutes without doubling over in pain, Tobius decided it was high time to put Palo Alto in our review mirror, and head for his hotel. Sammy slept most of the way, occasionally muttering in his sleep, sometimes waking up with a jolt and a swift gasp. That worried me a little, especially since he wouldn't talk about it. But I couldn't really blame him. I wasn't exactly the picture of happiness after what happened with Caleb, and every once in a while, a flashback would take me unawares and depression would latch on.
Beheading a close and trusted family friend? Not recommended for peace of mind.
It also had us all wondering who else might have taken Gordon's side. Tobius, just for safety's sake, had contacted Lenore and informed her. She assured him that Gordon, though unhappy and psychotic as ever, was well and truly under lock and key. But that wasn't to say he hadn't tried to get out. In fact, he'd made repeated escape attempts, and though that didn't surprise us, it still sent chills down our spines.
Sam was full of surprises. The minute we got back to the hotel, unpacked and made ourselves comfortable in front of a roaring log fire, each with a glass of brandy, he stood suddenly, and announced that he'd come to a decision.
"I wanna go to Stanford to study law." Sam's eyes swung nervously between Tobius and me, and he shifted from foot to foot. "That's if... uh... if that's still ok with you guys."
Tobius stood up, grinning from ear to ear, reached out and shook Sam's hand, before drawing the kid into a big hug.
"Good for you, boy. I'm so proud."
I was... how can I put this?
Stunned. Angry. Scared.
All three at once.
And yeah, I know that's a complete turnabout after all those months of trying nudge Sam in this direction. But after what happened recently? I was terrified.
Can ya really blame me for that?
"Dean?" Sam sounded worried, and I felt his hand on my arm. "You ok, dude?"
"I..." Getting up to stand by the window, I swallowed a few times. But my mouth felt dryer than a gnat's ass, so I took a large swig of brandy, nearly choking when it burned my throat. Staring into my drink and unable to meet his gaze, I got my breathing back under control, then broke the news. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Sammy."
"What?!" Now he sounded shocked, just bordering on angry, and he virtually staggered backwards in shock. I finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye, and began to explain.
"After what just happened? I can't let you go alone." It was the only compromise I could come up with that wouldn't piss him off, or ruin everything I'd spent the last god knew how many months planning. "We can get a place off campus maybe, I'll drive ya to and from class, the library, and anywhere else ya need to go. But you don't go alone."
To my surprise, Tobius let out an indignant snort.
"You can't watch him every minute of every day, Dean," Sire admonished sternly. "Sam's an adult now, and he has to do this for himself. That's one of the reasons for going to college."
I admit, it sounded a little heavy handed, but seeing as we had no idea who else Gordon may have brought on to his side, or where they might be lurking, the very thought of leaving Sam on his own at Stanford just made me feel sick.
It was also hypocritical. Tobius had once offered me the chance to go to college, settle down, have a 'normal' life, and gain some independence. But, not being an academic type, I chose the hunt, and likely always will.
This was Sam's turn.
"You once told me you guys wouldn't be far away," Sam interrupted the brief silence. "And as much as I'd sure miss you, it's time. Time to let me go my own way, and find out who I really am. Just like you wanted all along."
"Sam..."
"Dean, please listen to me," he continued with a tone that brooked no argument. "It won't be forever, I swear. And we'd see each other during the holidays, and maybe even some weekends you'll come visit me. And I'm always here if you need help with a hunt. But dude, you can't keep me wrapped in cotton wool..."
"More like bubble wrap," I muttered petulantly. "Cotton wool wouldn't hold you for long!"
Sam grinned.
"Ok, bubble wrap, whatever," he rolled his eyes, before his expression became serious again. "I'm sorry about what happened on that hunt. I know what I did was stupid, and I promise it won't happen again. I've learned my lesson. But... you've been there to help me all my life, and I... I just need to know I can do something on my own." Sam watched me closely, eyes pleading with me to understand. "And in spite of everything, Stanford is at least a safe learning environment."
I let out a short bark of laughter, but there was little humour in it.
"Oh yeah," I nodded with what must have been a sarcastic sneer, because Sam's face fell. "Real safe huh? With vampires, and bewitched lunars roaming round, snacking on the students, stalking my only son... forgive me, Sammy, if I ain't convinced!"
"Ok, this is getting us nowhere." Tobius huffed out a breath, and gently pushed Sam back into his seat. "Let's just all calm down, and think this through properly." He clamped a hand on my shoulder when I remained standing. "Come on. Sit down."
He waited until I reluctantly did as I was asked, then sat down opposite the two of us. I sensed a wise King Solomon moment coming on any second now.
"There are several options here," Tobius began, hands clasped together, elbows on knees. "Firstly, there are other campuses we can visit, but that isn't what Sam wants, and it won't put our minds at rest."
That was his subtle way of letting me know that he, too, was worried about Sam's safety. I'm not sure what that said about me. Perhaps Tobius just had more faith than I did.
"Then there's distance learning, which is basically what we've been doing so far," this time he was addressing Sam. "But..." he made a small clicking noise with his tongue, suggesting that option troubled him as much as it delighted me, then he sighed. "That's not all what higher education is for. Not for someone of Sam's age." Tobius raised an eyebrow at me. "It's about interaction with others, social skills, learning from people your own age, as well as older. It's about developing self-discipline and self-confidence. Trust me when I say that the academic knowledge he will take away from the experience, is only a part of it."
Ok, Mr Eloquence got me thinking.
Dammit!
I could feel Sam's hopeful gaze on me, saw his nervous fidgeting from the corner of my eye. Don't get me wrong. Of course I wanted this for him. I desperately wanted to just give in and say yes.
"It will always carry a risk, being apart from his family. But there are various steps we can take to ensure Sam's safety, Dean," Tobius added quietly.
I hesitated, eyes flickering briefly to Sam again, then nodded. Maybe it was time to have a little faith.
"Ok. Shoot."
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Author's notes:
So Dean's an anxious parent, Sam wants to go to college, and Tobius is playing peacemaker.
And true to form, I used this opportunity to lead on to some more Limp Sam. 'Cos I just can't resist it.
Kind regards,
ST xxx