Family Secrets: Part two–Clean Up Your Mess - chapter 1

Sam's soul is back and he's trying to build his new life. Where does he fit in now that Dean has a family? Alta is trying to build her new life without Sam. Memories haunt them both but Sam's memories could be fatal. I hope you enjoy.

I'm no kid in a kid's game

I did what I did; I've got no one to blame

But I don't give up, no, I don't ever give up

It's all I've got; it's my claim to fame

I'm no fighter but I'm fighting

This whole world seems uninviting

But I don't give up, no, I don't ever give up

I fall down sometimes; sometimes I come back flying

Liars are lying; airplanes are flying

Love isn't here.

Love isn't here but it's somewhere

Time to forget me, but something won't let me

Love isn't here.

Love isn't here but it's somewhere

And I cleaned and I washed up this dream I don't ever give up

I don't ever give up; I don't ever give up

No, I don't ever give up

I Don't Ever Give Up – Patti Griffin

Alta left Bobby's uncertain where she would go but she headed east and went to the place she considered home. The place she considered safe, where she could regroup and figure out what she would do now. Now that she didn't have family... didn't have the clan... didn't have Sam or Bobby. She didn't have anyone. She was alone. She went to the apartment... The place she had shared with Sam. She made it up the stairs. She made it into the apartment and let the door close behind her. She felt numb.

There are some memories that replay over and over in your mind. Some memories you never forget. Memories that hold you captive in a prison of regret… and sorrow. She knew the sight of Sam strapped to that cot in Bobby's panic room, pleading for help, pleading for mercy, crying out in pain, sacrificed… the moment she lost him… it would never leave her.

She felt the knot in her throat grow harder. She struggled to hold back the tears until it was useless and she sank to the floor. Somewhere deep inside her there was a small sound. A whimper… soft and childlike, slowly turning into a whine as it ripped up from the depths of her soul. Louder and harder the sound tore out of her, changing from pain and anguish to anger and finally rage.

... … …

Dean set by the cot in Bobby's panic room. He stared down at his brother lying motionless, his face turned toward Dean, one arm across his chest and the other at his side. Sam's chest rose and fell rhythmically. His face was peaceful and Dean hoped that his mind was just as peaceful.

It had been an ordeal. Sam was unwilling to go into the panic room and forcing him to do so was impossible. His big frame packed a powerful punch and he was in all-out fight mode when Castiel transported him to Bobby's, swinging with deadly aim at both Dean and Bobby.

It took Castiel to knock him out and it tore at Dean's heart to use the leather restraints and strap his younger brother to the bed. Dean told himself it was for Sam's own good. And in his heart he believed it. He was not willing to leave Sam's soul in Hell... suffering. And he was not willing to leave Sam here, incomplete, emotionless and unable to connect with anyone, even his brother. Sam like that was not human and he would not leave his brother a monster.

Castiel had said it was uncertain whether it would work. Replacing someone's soul had never been done. Who knew what was going on in Sam's head? Who knew if he would ever wake up? No one. Not Balthazar... not Castiel. But the alternative of leaving things as they were was not acceptable, so Dean watched as Sam screamed at him in anger then begged him not to do this and finally he screamed in pain as Balthazar forced Sam's soul back into his body.

Sam's body shivered and his head turned. Dean tensed and waited but Sam relaxed motionless... his rhythmic breathing the only sign of life.

"When is he going to wake up?" Dean's question was rhetorical, an outward sign of his fear.

"It is not certain that he will wake up." Castiel sat vigil with Dean, waiting and watching.

"Well, he didn't sleep the whole time he was back topside. That's what, six months? Maybe a little longer." Bobby shrugged. "Stands to reason he'd need to catch up on some of that. I'd bet he'll sleep for a while... maybe days."

"Day's?" Dean shook his head. He rubbed his hand across Sam's forehead. "Come on, Sammy. Wake up. Talk to me."

Their vigil in the panic room did go on for days. Bobby and Dean took it in turns to sit by Sam waiting for him to wake. At times he stirred and shifted from side to side but he did not open his eyes. Always he drifted back into dreamless motionless sleep.

Finally on the morning of the fourth day they left him. Dean didn't want to. "What if he wakes up and needs us, Bobby?"

"We'll hear him. We can be down here pronto." He gave Dean a sympathetic look. "I know this is hard but we just got to wait it out and there's no use hovering. Come on. I got some things I been looking at and I want to show you."

"Some things? You mean like a case? Bobby I'm not hunting anymore. How can I? I made a commitment to Lisa and Ben."

"Well, just look at what I got. Let's just call it an advisory capacity." The two men went up to Bobby's office.

Castiel decided to risk what he dreaded. He hovered over Sam... watching... feeling... and he felt Sam's soul. Shredded... barely recognizable. "Sam." Castiel spoke with authority. "Sam." He commanded. "Wake!"

Sam's eyes opened at Castiel's command. He blinked looking up at the Angel. Slowly the fog began to clear. "Cas?"

"You need water." Castiel offered his hand and pulled Sam up to sit on the side of the cot. Sam took the glass of water he was offered and as the cool liquid wet his lips and tongue and slid down his parched throat Sam's eyes closed and his head lifted. A smile crept across his face. He slowly finished the rest of the glass savoring the life-giving fluid. He wondered when the last time he tasted water was. He was so dry.

"You need to eat as well." Castiel again offered his hand and helped Sam to stand. It took him a moment to get his balance. "Go upstairs to your brother and your friend. They'll get you some food and tell you what's going on." in a rush of Angel's wings Castiel was gone.

Sam looked at the empty space where Castiel had been. "Ok... " By the time he made it to the top of the stairs he had his legs working pretty well.

"Dean?" Sam's voice coming from the door startled both Dean and Bobby. They turned and stared, stunned. Sam's voice was the sweetest sound Dean had ever heard. He knew immediately his brother was back. He'd know Sammy's voice anywhere. This was him. His brother... not some soulless imitation of Sam and that meant that Sammy was whole again... and safe.

"Sam." Dean stood and faced his brother. Sam's long arms reached out as he closed the distance between them in one long stride. He gathered Dean in a Sammy sized bear hug and Dean's face nearly split into from his broad smile. "Sammy!" he returned the hug squeezing his brother and patting him on the back.

Neither seemed to want to let go until Sam's eyes opened and fell on Bobby. His mind flashed back to the last time he saw Bobby. Sam was possessed by Lucifer and forced to watch... and feel... as Lucifer snapped Bobby's neck with a flick of Sam's wrist. He'd seen Bobby dead on the ground. "Bobby? I saw you... I felt you... " He let go of Dean and came around to face Bobby.

"Yea, well... Cas fixed me up." Bobby held out his hand and Sam bypassed the handshake and went straight for his second big bear hug of the day.

"Thank God for Cas! Bobby, it's so good to see you."

"How are you feeling, son?"

Sam thought for a moment. "I'm hungry... really hungry."

"Well, let's get you something to eat."

Dean watched as his younger brother uncharacteristically gobbled down one sandwich after another. In between bites Sam pumped Dean and Bobby for information. "How'd I get back? The last thing I remember was falling… just falling."

"Believe it or not, the Angels mounted a rescue to pull you out of the cage." Bobby eyed Dean. His statement was true sort of... it just left out a lot of important details... details Sam will be pissed about when he finds out Dean didn't tell him. Normally Sam would be sharper and pick up on Dean's lack of details. He would question Dean until he got to the truth but it seemed he was more interested in the food and water than in details.

Sam was more interested in the food and water. Over the past six months he had pushed his body beyond any normal limits. Just the fact that he had not slept during that time left him physically and mentally exhausted. Once he ate his third sandwich and finished off a second bottle of water it began to catch up with him again. His eyes felt heavy and a giant yawn made his exhaustion clear to Dean and Bobby.

"Maybe you need to sleep some more." Bobby patted him on the shoulder. "Go on upstairs. You need to be in a good bed. Not that little cot. Get some rest."

"I won't argue. I'm beat. I could sleep for a week." Neither of the two men told him he was nearly halfway to a week or that he was six months without any sleep.

Sam climbed the stairs struggling to stay awake. He barely made it to the bed, took off his shirt and jeans leaving on his tee shirt and boxers. As he crawled into the bed he pulled the covers around him and flipping over on his stomach he snuggled his face into the pillow. He sighed and his eyes opened. He breathed in deep. He noticed a smell... familiar but he couldn't place it. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep again. It smelled like... someone... like... Sam fell asleep with the smell of Alta in his nostrils and his head, never quite remembering... never quite able to place that wonderful smell with the person it belonged to.

… … ...

It was hot. Alta was sweaty and tired. And she felt the sticky dried blood on her. Beheading Vamps was messy business. Always had been. Blood tended to spatter everywhere. Face, hands, hair, clothes… Her foot pressed harder on the accelerator of the black Dodge Charger as she pushed through the night. She was nearly home and the first inkling of dawn was showing in the eastern sky. It was the second night on stakeout paired with a hunter she'd never worked with before. The hunt went well. They nailed the mate of the vamp they had killed the night before. Two in two nights was nothing to complain about but still the uncertainty of working with an unknown was stressful. She missed working with Sam.

Steve wasn't very experienced but he had good instincts, good potential. He was young, only twenty one and anxious to make a mark in the hunting community. She knew that was a risky time. It tended to make one reckless but he didn't seem to be the type to be reckless. She thought he might make it a few years before he got himself killed. Hell, he might live to hunt for many years. She needed back up bad enough to risk it. She couldn't bring herself to go back to the clan. Samuel was still working for the demon Crowley for all she knew and that just didn't sit well with her.

When she reached the Pub, she unlocked the back door and headed up the stairs to the apartment. She thought about the many times she'd climbed those stairs... with Sam. When she entered the apartment she dropped her duffel and headed for the shower.

Alta stood in the shower; her head bowed while the hot water washed over her, soothing tired sore muscles. She watched the sweat, blood and road grime swirl down the drain and she remembered watching Sam's blood swirling down the same drain when she cleaned his wound from the vampire bite so long ago. Sam, Sam, Sam! Damn, I've got to get him out of my head! I've got to find another place to live!

... … …

Sam's big feet pounded the pavement in rhythmic footfalls as he finished up his morning run. Sweat ran down his back and his face and he sucked air down in big lungful's. It felt good to push his body hard. Running got the endorphins pumping in his blood but it didn't come close to the adrenalin of being on a hunt. He missed it. But Dean had been adamant. And as he ran, he replayed the conversation in his head.

"We're not hunting anymore. Remember? You made me promise to live the 'apple pie' life." Dean had said.

"We don't hunt?" Sam was confused. "What do we do?"

Dean was restoring classic muscle cars. Sam could see Dean doing that. He was a good mechanic and he loved working on the Impala. It was a perfect job for him. But when Dean had suggested that Sam work with him, Sam just shook his head. "I'm not a mechanic, Dean. I'm a hunter. It's what I do. It's all I know."

"It's not all you know." Dean had insisted. "And it's not the only life. I was a hunter too. If I can retire, so can you. We've done enough. Given enough… everything. Hell, I've died several times myself. And you… you sacrificed yourself to Lucifer and Hell." Dean had been pacing, waving his arms. He looked like he was preaching the gospel. "Please… just humor me." Sam didn't have the heart to argue.

Sam had the 'Great Wall of Sam' as Dean called it, in his head holding back the tide of memories that could destroy him… or make him insane… and he couldn't remember things. Things like Hell, and the life he'd lived while his soul was in Hell. He couldn't risk anything that would trigger those memories. Dean was very protective about it and he was certain that hunting would trigger memories… Sam didn't like it. He didn't like having memories he wasn't allowed to remember. He didn't like feeling like an invalid… like he was weak. But maybe Dean was right. Maybe he'd done enough. Maybe he deserved to have a normal life. Maybe he would like 'apple pie'. He stopped at the back steps of Lisa's house to catch his breath before he headed upstairs to shower.

… … ...

Lisa loved Saturday mornings. Breakfast was more leisurely. Dean always cooked and they had time to talk without rushing off to work and school. Now that Sam was staying with them it was a little more crowded. But she told herself it was good. Lisa knew that Sam did his best not to intrude on the family. He worked himself around everyone else's needs and seemed to try to fade into the background as much as possible. She could tell he felt awkward, like he didn't belong. It wasn't like that really. Dean was so much better now that Sam was safe. And he loved having his brother with them. He'd stopped having nightmares and panic attacks. Lisa would love having Sam for that reason alone but it was more than that. She liked Sam. Ben liked Sam too. He worshiped Dean... But Sam was kind of mysterious to Ben. And what little Ben knew about the things Sam and Dean had been through was the stuff of superheroes to Ben.

Dean was already frying bacon when she made it to the kitchen. He looked so cute with a dish towel slung across his shoulder and dodging popping fat as he laid the long strips on the hot griddle. Sam was at the fridge pouring out orange juices for everyone. She couldn't help but smile at these two tough hunters being so domesticated. Ben was sitting at the counter playing a game on the Blackberry Sam had given him. Something in Lisa glowed.

"Hey Lisa." Sam smiled at her and motioned for her to sit next to Ben. "Coffee?"

"Mmmm." She smiled and nodded. "Smells so good."

Sam put all the OJ and coffees at everyone's place with milk for Ben while Dean started the eggs. Soon everyone was munching on Lisa's favorite meal of the week. Saturday morning breakfast.

"Hey Sam, will you go to soccer practice with me?" Ben had already scarfed down his food and was headed to the sink with his plate.

"Yea, sure." Sam smiled at Ben. "That'd be great." He looked at Dean wondering if he might be jealous.

"Good." Dean grinned at his brother and winked his approval. "I need to finish the car I'm working on. Need to get paid." He laid a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Sam used to be good at soccer. His team won a championship."

"I was just about your age." Sam's smile deepened and his eyes became thoughtful. "I got a trophy... somewhere."

"Cool! Well, practice is at eight. We better hurry!"

… … ...

Late that afternoon Sam wondered into the garage. Dean was working under his newest acquisition, a '69 Plymouth Roadrunner. "Hey Dean." Sam walked along the side of the car carefully stepping over Deans protruding legs hanging off the end of the dolly. He ran his hand along the classic muscle car gazing absently at the orange finish.

"Sam." Dean acknowledged him but continued with his work. "How was soccer practice?"

"Good. Ben's pretty good at it. He needs to focus. He's not very disciplined."

"Maybe you could work with him some. You're the one with focus. You teach him discipline."

"Yea, like Dad taught us." Sam smiled and winced at the same time. "I don't think so."

He made his way to the back of the garage and spotted his duffel bag. He eased over to the bag and opened it, peering inside he saw his pistol. Sam slowly reached for the pearl handle, his fingers slid around it. He felt it cool in his hand as he lifted it reverently... quietly. He glanced back to see Dean still under the car then he slipped the gun in the back of his jeans. Sam's eyes closed and he almost sighed when he felt the cold metal of the gun against his back. He'd learned to carry a gun like that when he was nine years old and it felt so right. He glanced back down into the duffel and saw his silver butterfly knife. He quickly stuffed it in his pocket.

"Hey Dean. I think I'll go out for a couple of drinks tonight. Maybe find some live music. Must be a band playing somewhere. It's Saturday night."

"Great idea. I'll get a shower and go with." Dean rolled out from under the car.

"No, Dean you stay here. Spend time with your family." Sam turned to face Dean careful that he didn't see any indication of the gun at his back or the open duffel on the counter. "Lisa rented a movie for 'Family Night'."

"Yea! Blazing Saddles!" Dean's green eyes connected with Sam's hazel ones. "It's a classic, bro. Ben's first time seeing it. He's gonna love it!" Dean laughed, remembering funny scenes from the movie. "It's a lot of fun introducing him to the classics."

Sam looked at his brother's smiling face. "Yea, the classics."

"What? He'll love it. It'll be great."

"I know but I just feel like getting out, you know." Sam shrugged. "You stay and do the family thing."

"Oh, yea. Maybe you need to go chase a little tail, uh?" Dean's eyes sparkled and his grin became somewhat snarky. He elbowed Sam. "That's my boy! Do you some good."

"Dean." Sam's automatic reaction from years of teasing kicked in and he looked to the floor, a small smile and a blush crept across his face. "Yea, maybe."

… … ...

Sam walked from Lisa's uptown. It was a few miles but he was used to walking. He liked it. It gave him private time to think. And somehow it seemed like a natural thing to do to walk out alone at night, like it might have been a habit once but he didn't have memories of it. He passed more than one bar without stopping to go in. He didn't want a drink. Music streamed out into the street but he didn't care to go and watch the band. That's not what drew him out into the night. He wasn't sure what was leading him. Perhaps some forgotten habit.

Instincts kicked in and Sam slipped into a shadow at the mouth of an alley. He pulled his gun and gripped it in both hands close to his shoulder as he silently made his way into the darkness. He heard sounds… rustlings… noises… natural… smells… also natural. This alley was clear. No kill here. Sam froze… What am I thinking? What am I doing? I'm out for a kill? He suddenly felt as if he was someone else… just for a moment. It was not the only alley he cleared that night. He didn't find anything supernatural, no evil that needed killing. He was disappointed but the rush of the hunt felt good. Something he'd been missing.

TBC

Comments and R&R are welcomed and appreciated.

I love to know what you think.