Raising Winchesters
Chapter 19
Dean woke up in a cold sweat. He could still feel the icy burn of the man's hands on his arms and nothing he did could make him shake the feeling. Knowing he wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep, Dean got out of bed and took a shower that left his skin reddened and raw, both from the heat of the water and the extensive scrubbing he'd subjected himself to. Once he was done, he put on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt to hide the redness.
Returning to the bedroom he shared with Sam, he was relieved to see that his brother seemed to be sleeping soundly, at least. Looking at the clock on the table by the bed, he realized that it was almost two o'clock in the morning. His stomach growled loudly and he really wanted to go downstairs for a snack, but another part of him wanted to stay safely in their bedroom.
Eventually, his growling stomach won out, though, so he made his way out of the room and down the stairs. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard someone talking and after a few more steps down the stairs, he could actually make out what the voices were saying.
"So, you think that's it, Bobby? That's what we're dealing with?" he heard his dad say.
"I don't know, John. Your guess is as good as mine, but so far that's the best I can come up with."
"Ever come across one of those before? Or heard of anyone who has?"
"Not that I know of. And there really isn't a lot of information out there, either."
"What exactly is it? And how do we stop it?"
"First of all, I think it's a 'them' not just an it. Dean and Sam both said the two men looked different. That could mean that there are a lot more of them out there and they could all look different. And we have no idea how to deal with them."
"What are we going to do then? It's weird that I haven't seen them at all. They obviously know how to lay low and stay under my radar. And that says a lot about them, doesn't it?"
"Hold on, John. Don't panic just yet. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve, so just give me a little more time. I'll find something we can use."
Dean chose that moment to make his presence known, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. Without stepping off the stairs completely, he called out for his dad and John immediately came around the corner.
"Dean? What are you doing up? Everything okay?"
"Yeah. I just, uh… I had a bad dream."
John didn't miss the way Dean was shaking. Or the fact that he looked a little pale.
"Come here, son."
Dean stepped off the stairs and walked over to his father. Once he was standing in front of the man, he couldn't bring himself to look up at him. "Sorry, Dad," he said quietly.
"What are you sorry for?" John asked, genuinely confused at the apology.
"I tried to protect Sammy. I really did."
"You did protect Sammy, Dean. Sam said the man never touched him. He said you pushed him behind you." Dean continued to look down at his hands. "You did good, Dean. I'm proud of you."
For the first time, Dean looked up at his father, surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth. He could probably count on one hand the number of times his dad told him he was proud.
Looking over to the side of the hallway, he noticed Bobby leaning up against the wall.
"Hey, kid. Are you hungry?"
"A little," Dean admitted just as his stomach let out a loud growl.
Bobby and John both laughed.
"Come on, then. Let's see what I can come up with on short notice."
Dean turned and followed Bobby into the kitchen, taking his usual seat at the table. He watched as Bobby opened up the refrigerator and scrounged around. Pulling out a few ingredients, he turned back to Dean. "How does a BLT sound?"
"Sounds good, Uncle Bobby," Dean answered.
While he watched Bobby making the sandwiches for them, Dean kept glancing over at his dad. John had grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator for Dean and two beers for him and Bobby. Once he was sitting back at the table, he opened his beer and took a drink. Dean opened his soda up and took a long swig, too, before setting it back down on the table and looking up at his father.
"He said I shouldn't have killed them," Dean said so softly that both Bobby and John had to strain to hear. "He said I'd pay for it."
"Dean, we'll figure this out…" Bobby started to tell Dean that everything would be okay, but John stopped him.
"What else did he say, Dean?" John had already heard Dean explain everything several times, but he thought it might do the boy some good to go over it again.
"He said that I upset the balance of the world. What does that mean?"
Bobby sat a plate of sandwiches down on the table, but none of them moved to take one. "Dean, some people believe that there is a natural balance in the world. That for things to be as they should be, certain things have to be in balance. Like yin and yang. Have you ever heard of that?"
"Kinda," Dean answered.
"Well, it's like there are opposites of things that keep this natural balance in order. Darkness and light. Good and evil. War and peace. Life and death. These things are dependent upon each other to maintain that balance." Dean still looked a little confused, so Bobby tried a different tact. "Okay, so it's like this…. As one aspect increases, the other aspect decreases, right? When the sun comes up in the morning, the light increases and the dark decreases. When there's more good in the world, the evil lessens. When there's war, there's less peace and when there's peace, there's less war. Make sense?"
"Yeah," Dean answered as he reached out for a BLT. He nibbled on the sandwich as he tried to understand what Bobby was saying. "So, me killing those, um… those creatures upset the balance? But what if they'd killed us? Wouldn't that have upset the balance, too?"
John paled at Dean's words, knowing that his world would have been completely thrown off balance if those creatures had gotten to his boys. And nothing would have ever righted it.
"Yes, it would have," Bobby continued. "But whoever… or whatever… these things are…. They have their own beliefs when it comes to this. And we don't know what those beliefs are just yet, but we will. We'll figure it out."
"I'm sorry I killed them," Dean nearly whispered. "It's all my fault."
"Dean, you didn't have a choice," John said loudly and clearly. "You did exactly what you've been trained to do and exactly what you had to do. Killing them was the only way you and Sam would have survived, you understand? So, you can't be sorry for that. You were watching out for your brother."
Dean nodded his head and wiped away the tear that had rolled down his cheek. He was so scared and really didn't want his dad to know. Letting the man see him crying was embarrassing enough and Dean immediately squared his shoulders and tried to pull himself together.
No one said anything for a long time and eventually Dean was finished with his sandwich. He gulped down the last of soda and sat back in his chair. He couldn't keep from yawning and suddenly he really wanted to go back to bed. Unfortunately, he was too afraid that he'd have another nightmare.
"Let's go, kiddo," John said as he stood up and lightly grabbed Dean's arm. He didn't miss the way Dean flinched when his hand touched upon the bruise the man had left on his forearm, so he quickly moved his hand from Dean's arm and up to his shoulder. Dean stumbled to his feet and allowed his dad to lead him out of the kitchen and back up to the room he was sharing with his brother. He was relieved to see that Sam was still sleeping in the same position he'd left him in and didn't waste any time in crawling into the bed next to him.
"Think you can go back to sleep?" John asked him as he pulled the blanket up around Dean's shoulders.
"I think so."
John started to leave the room, but he stopped at the door and turned back to Dean. "We're going to figure this out, okay?"
"Okay, Dad."
John walked to the door and turned out the light. With one last look at his boys, he closed the door and went back downstairs to try to figure out what the hell was going on.
The next three days were spent with John and Bobby researching in the library and Sam and Dean trying to find things to keep them occupied. Sam was annoyed with his big brother, because Dean didn't want to stray too far from their dad. His attempts to get Dean to go outside to play had so far been turned down and they were more often than not sitting in the living room watching old cartoons and action movies.
By the afternoon of the third day, Sam had had enough.
"Please, Dean! I'm so bored! Let's go outside."
"I don't want to, Sam."
"Why not?"
"I just don't. Now shut up! I'm trying to watch this movie."
Sam stomped out of the room, huffing along the way. Dean ignored him and kept watching the television, but when Sam didn't return after a few minutes, he started to wonder where he'd gone off to.
After checking the kitchen, bathroom, and their bedroom and still not finding his brother, Dean walked into the library. The boys knew to stay out of the library when the adults were researching, but Dean wanted to make sure that Sam hadn't gone in there.
"Hey, Dean," John said from his chair over by the window.
"Hi. I was just looking for Sam," Dean explained as he looked around the room. "Did he come in here?"
"Haven't seen him for a few hours. Did you check your room?"
"Yeah, he's not there."
"Well, he's here somewhere. Go find him."
"Yes, sir."
Dean looked through the house again and when he didn't find Sam, he knew he had to look outside. He took a deep breath as he opened the door, trying to shore himself up for it. He knew Sam's usual hangout spots at Bobby's, so after a quick look around the front yard, he made his way over to the garage. Sam wasn't really into working on cars, but Bobby had a stack of tires in one corner that Sam liked to play in. Of course, they'd been told many times not to play on them by Bobby. In fact, the last time they'd been found playing on the tires, Bobby had threatened to "wear them out" if he caught them doing it again. Dean wasn't sure exactly what he meant by that, but he had a good idea.
"Sam!" he yelled loudly as he walked into the garage. He heard a squeak coming from the corner, so he knew he'd been right. Sam was hiding in the tires, but Dean could hear him breathing. The kid always breathed loudly when he was nervous.
"Sam, I know you're in here. I can hear you breathing."
Sam giggled a little, making Dean laugh, too. "I have to breathe, Dean," he said loudly. "I'll die if I don't."
"You don't have to breathe so loud, though, Sammy. That's why you never win at Hide and Seek. And you better get out of there before Uncle Bobby finds you. Remember what he said?"
Sam mumbled something that Dean couldn't make out. When he asked him again and still didn't hear his answer, Dean finally climbed up on the stack of tires and looked for his brother. As he was climbing up the stack, though, it shifted a little and Dean thought the whole stack was going to topple. Fortunately, it didn't, but has he looked at Sam, who was inside the stack of tires, he realized he had a strange look on his face.
"What's wrong, Sam?" Dean asked immediately.
"I'm stuck, Dean," Sam said in a strange voice.
Dean could tell his brother was just seconds away from crying and he could feel his own heart speeding up. "Hold on, Sam. I'll get you out. What part of you is stuck?"
"My leg! I was standing on two tires and one of them moved," Sam was crying now and Dean wondered how much he was hurt.
"Can you move it at all?"
"I can't. It won't move. Dean, go get Daddy."
"It's okay, Sam. I can get you out, okay?" Dean climbed inside the tires and made his way down to his brother. There wasn't room for him to go all the way, so he stopped just above Sam. He needed to see exactly how Sam was pinned in the tires and from what he could see, he thought that he would just have to move a few tires from the top to get to the tire that was wedging Sam in. "I gotta go back up, Sam, but just for a second, okay?"
"Don't leave me, Dean," Sam begged.
"I'm not leaving you, Sammy. I'm just gonna climb up and move some of these tires out of the way, so I can get to the tire that's pinning you."
Sam watched as Dean climbed back up the stack and waited while he worked to move the ones on top. Once he'd moved the top two tires, he checked out the stack again, making sure that he wasn't going to make it shift again.
There were now only two tires above the one that had trapped Sam, so Dean slowly pushed the top one over. The stack shifted slightly and Sam cried out, but only because he was scared. It hadn't shifted enough to cause Sam pain.
Now that Dean could see Sam and see how the tire was leaning, he thought he would be able to push it over enough for Sam to be able to get his leg out.
"Okay, Sammy…. On the count of three, I want you to use your arms and lift yourself up, okay? Push up as hard and fast as you can. Ready?" Sam nodded his head. "Okay, one…. two….. THREE!"
Dean pushed on the tire with everything he had and at the same time, Sam lifted himself up a little. The tire moved just enough to allow Sam to pull his leg up and Dean immediately reached for his brother, pulling him the rest of the way out. Once they were back on the garage floor, Dean pulled his brother to him. "Are you okay?" he immediately asked.
"My leg hurts," Sam cried.
"Can you walk?"
"I-I think s-so."
Dean watched as Sam took a few steps, noticing that he was limping. "Let me see your leg, Sammy." Dean reached down and pulled up Sam's pant leg. There was a dark red area right below his knee and around his calf, and Dean knew it was going to be a pretty good sized bruise. "Come on, Sammy. We need to let Dad and Uncle Bobby look at your leg."
"NO!" Sam answered immediately. "I'll get in trouble, Dean!"
"We have to, Sammy. We have to make sure it's not hurt really bad." Dean knew he was in for it, too, but they didn't have a choice. Sam's leg needed to be checked out. "Come on. I'll give you a piggyback ride."
Dean bent down and motioned for Sam to climb up onto his back. Sam wrapped his arm around Dean's shoulders and his legs around his waist and once he was settled, Dean pushed himself up and made his way back to the house. He really wasn't looking forward to his dad and Uncle Bobby finding out what had happened.
"Hey, Sam… Let me do all the talking, okay? I'll tell Dad it was my idea to play on the tires."
"Why? Then you'll get in trouble, too."
"I'm already gonna be in trouble, because I didn't go get Dad right away. And you're already in trouble, remember? For leaving the cabin? You don't want Dad to be even madder at you, do you?"
Dean hated the way Sam's face paled at his words, but he really wanted to keep his little brother from getting into more trouble than he was already in. Once Sam agreed to let Dean do all the talking, he opened the door and stepped into the house. They could hear John and Bobby talking in the kitchen, so Dean made his way there.
The second they were through the door, John and Bobby could tell that something was wrong with the youngest Winchester.
"What happened?" John asked as he made his way over to his boys.
"Sammy hurt his leg," Dean said simply.
John quickly grabbed Sam from off of Dean's back and sat him down on the kitchen counter. After asking Sam which leg was hurt, he pulled up the pant leg and checked it out. Once he was done, he looked over at Bobby. "I don't think it's broken, but can you take a look at it, Bobby?"
Bobby stepped over and ran his hand up and down Sam's leg. Then he made Sam wiggle his toes and move his ankle back and forth. Satisfied with what he was seeing, he turned back to John. "Nothing's broken, but he's definitely gonna have a big bruise. I'll get some ice."
Bobby turned to get some ice and John looked down at Sam. "Can you walk on it?" he asked.
"Yeah, but it hurts, Daddy," Sam answered.
"I'll get you some medicine for it, Sammy. And the ice will help, too." Turning to Dean, he asked again what had happened.
"We were playing and Sam's leg got trapped," Dean explained. He thought that maybe, just maybe, they could leave out the part about playing on the tires and get away with it, but then he realized that Bobby would see that the tires were toppled over the minute he stepped into the garage and figure it out anyway.
"Got trapped in what?" John asked, already growing suspicious and also annoyed with Dean's stalling tactics.
Dean looked over at Sam and then at Bobby before answering. "In the tires."
"What tires?" John asked, obviously not knowing anything about the stack of tires and the warnings that Bobby had already given the boys.
"You were playing on the tires?" Bobby asked angrily.
"Yes, sir."
"How many times have I told you not to be playing on those tires, boy?"
Dean shifted uncomfortably where he was standing. "I don't know."
"What kind of answer is that?!" Bobby roared. Dean was sure he'd never seen the man so angry at him.
"I-I'm sorry," he answered. And then, "A lot, I guess."
"You guess? Damn it, boy. Sammy coulda been killed. You coulda been killed. Those tires are not to be played on and you damn well know it!"
"What tires is he talking about, Bobby?" John asked, wanting to be clued in on what the big deal was. After Bobby finished explaining, John turned his attention back to his oldest son. "What the hell were you thinking, Dean? Did you not understand when Bobby told you to stay off the tires?"
"I did, sir," Dean answered.
"So, what? You think you don't have to listen to Bobby? You think you don't have to follow his rules?"
"No, sir. I just…."
"You just what?"
"We were bored."
"You were bored….."
"Yes, sir."
John turned to look at Sam, who was still sitting up on the counter and had tears falling down his grubby face. "What about you, Sam? Did you know that you weren't supposed to be playing on the tires?"
"Yes, sir."
John ran a hand over his face and through his hair. After staying up until almost four o'clock in the morning and then spending most of the day researching in the library, he was exhausted. The last thing he wanted to have to do was discipline his children.
"So, you both knew better than to climb around on those tires, but you did it anyway."
"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean both answered at the same time.
"But it was my idea, Dad," Dean continued. "Sam didn't want to, but I wanted to play King of the Hill."
John knew that Dean had a penchant for taking the heat for his little brother, but he didn't have the strength to figure out if that was what was going on at the moment. Instead, he decided to take Dean at his word.
"So, you knowingly pulled your brother into doing something that you weren't supposed to do and that could hurt him?"
Dean nodded his head, not able to speak at the moment.
"Answer me, Dean," John barked.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't cut it, kid. Go on up to your room and wait for me."
"What about Sam?"
"Don't worry about your brother. Just do what I said."
Dean gave Sam a sad look and then turned and made his way up to their room.
John turned back to Sam, who was now holding a bag of ice to his leg. "I'm disappointed in you, Sammy. You're almost eight years old and I expect you to start making better decisions. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Sam answered with a sniffle.
"You need to learn to make your own decisions and not always follow your brother. More often than not that kid will lead you into trouble." John knew he was being unfair to Dean, but he was angry. All in all, he knew Dean was a good kid, even if he did occasionally make some poor decisions.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Sam said sadly.
"Well, you and I are going to have a little chat about some of the decisions you've made recently. You're old enough now to know and do what's expected of you, Sam. And you're old enough to know that if you don't, you're going to be punished. First, you left the cabin when I told you to stay put, putting both you and your brother in grave danger. And now, you ignored Bobby's rules and got yourself hurt. Do you see the problem we have?"
"Yes, sir."
"I know your leg is hurting, so I'm going to put off your punishment until tomorrow. But tomorrow, you're getting a spanking."
Sam immediately started crying at his dad's words, even though he wasn't surprised by them. John spent a few minutes talking to him a little more about everything and turned to look at Bobby. "Since they disobeyed your rule, you got anything to add, Bobby?"
Bobby looked at Sam. "You're lucky I'm not taking my wooden spoon to your backside, Sam. But I know your dad's gonna do a good enough job for both of us. The only thing I'm going to add is some extra chores when you're up and moving around a little better. I think this house needs a good cleaning and I know two naughty boys that can do just that."
"I-I'm sorry, Uncle Bobby," Sam said.
"I know you are, Sam. But, next time do as you're told. I told you boys to stay off the tires because I didn't want you to get hurt. And now look what happened."
"I'll never play on them again, Uncle Bobby. I promise."
Bobby nodded his head at Sam and patted him on his uninjured knee. John picked Sam up off the counter. "Bobby, I'm going to go settle him down on the couch. Think you could get him some medicine?"
"Sure thing, John."
John walked Sam over to the couch and set him down. He moved him so that his back was up against the arm rest and put a pillow under his sore leg. Once Sam was settled and the television was turned on to something he could watch, John turned to head upstairs.
Dean threw himself down on the bed as soon as he walked in the bedroom. He could already feel the tears burning his eyes and he wished he could just disappear. The past week had been awful and he was tired of always being stressed about something. Why couldn't anything ever go right for a change?
He felt guilty for not playing with Sam earlier, knowing that if he had, Sam wouldn't have gotten hurt. If he'd been outside with his brother, they would have found something else to do and Sam wouldn't have ever played on the tires. And they wouldn't be in the trouble they were in now.
He also felt stupid for being so scared. That's why he didn't want to go outside when Sam asked him to. He had an irrational fear that one of the silver-eyed men would show up outside and he definitely didn't want to come face to face with one of them again.
He definitely didn't want to come face to face with John Winchester, either, but he knew he didn't have a choice on that matter. Nothing he could do could keep that from happening.
He had been upstairs for almost fifteen minutes when he heard the sound of his father's footsteps on the stairs. He thought it odd that he could tell the difference between his dad's footsteps and his Uncle Bobby's footsteps. His dad's always sounded heavier, like the man was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. The cadence was quicker, too.
His stomach felt like he'd swallowed a bunch of butterflies as he waited for the door to open. He sat himself up, trying to prepare himself for what was to come as much as he could. He knew he was in for it. He knew his dad was angry and disappointed. And he was angry and disappointed, too.
Angry at Sam for being so stupid and getting them into this mess in the first place. And disappointed in himself for letting his fear control him. Before he could think any more on any of that, the door opened and John stepped into the room. Dean immediately noticed how tired the man looked and he suddenly felt even worse.
John walked across the room and leaned up against the wall near the window. He stared outside for several long seconds before turning back to Dean with a sigh.
"What were you thinking, Dean?" he finally asked.
"I guess I wasn't," Dean answered. "We were bored and we just thought it would be fun to climb on the tires."
"We?"
"I," Dean quickly corrected. "I thought it would be fun."
"Did you forget that Bobby told you to stay away from the tires?"
"No, sir. I remembered."
"But you decided to play on them anyway…"
"Yes, sir."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Dean said with a shrug.
"That's not an answer, Dean."
When Dean didn't answer right away, John answered for him.
"I'm sure I know why. You didn't think you'd get caught, right? You knew that Bobby and I were doing research and you figured that we wouldn't be checking up on you. Is that it?"
Dean hated lying to his dad, but he was so deep into the lie now that he couldn't stop. "Yes, sir."
John pushed himself off the wall and moved over to the bed, sitting down next to Dean. Dean edged away from him just a bit. "So, let me get this straight….. you were playing on the tires and somehow Sam's leg got stuck. How did you get his leg out?"
"I, um…. I pushed some of the tires off the pile until I could get to the one that was trapping him."
"So, you're saying that the pile shifted causing one of the tires to move enough to trap Sam's leg. And then you shifted the pile even more to get Sam out. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Dean, you do realize that you could have made everything worse by moving the tires, right? You could have caused the whole pile to collapse in on your brother."
Dean's face paled at his father's words and he suddenly felt like he wanted to throw up. "I was careful, Dad," he said, trying to convince both his dad and himself of the fact.
"That's not the point," John nearly yelled. "You should have come to me the second it happened, Dean. You shouldn't have taken such a risk on your own."
"I'm sorry," Dean said weakly.
"I know you are. I know you wouldn't intentionally do something that might get your brother hurt. Or yourself, for that matter. But, you have to start thinking things through, Dean. You can't keep acting impulsively. As a hunter, you have to be able to look at a situation and figure out the best course of action. You have to look at it from all different angles and consider all of the consequences of your actions. You have to think, son."
Dean stared down at a hole in the knee of his jeans, not knowing what to say. He knew that his dad was mad that they were playing on the tires- or at least that Sam was playing on the tires- but he knew that the man was even madder at the fact that Dean tried to handle it on his own.
"I think we've had this discussion before, haven't we? About thinking through your decisions and not being impulsive?"
"Yes, sir."
"And I guess I don't have to tell you that I'm tired of discussing the same thing over and over again."
"No, sir."
"So, I guess you know what to expect then?"
Dean nodded his head and was surprised when his dad didn't make him give a verbal answer.
"Okay, well….. let's get this over with. Stand up, Dean."
Dean stood up and allowed his dad to pull him towards him. Seconds later, he was facedown over his dad's knee, staring at the worn floorboards and waiting for the first smack to fall. He didn't have to wait long.
Author's note: Goodness gracious….. those boys sure do know how to get themselves in trouble, don't they? John Winchester definitely has his hands full sometimes.
I know this chapter didn't move the story forward too much, but I'm pretty sure the next few chapters will. Any ideas on who/what the silver-eyed men are?
I've been a writing fool lately, so I hope the quality of the work is still good. I have three Supernatural stories going at the moment, so I really hope I keeping them all straight in my head. Let me know if you find anything weird or something that doesn't make sense. Oh, and thanks so much for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. Y'all are awesome!