A/N- Hey everyone! I'm ( sorta) back! Wanted to let you all know that I haven't abandoned this story and still have some ideas for chapters. Real life has gotten busy and to be honest trying to work out Sam's exit to college has kinda given me writer's block. I've got some great stories for after he leaves, so I might have to skip it for now and hope I can be forgiven! I have to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has PM'd me and reviewed this story! You make such a difference and I appreciate it so much!
Timeline- This story takes place around November 2000, the fall before Sam leaves for school. This chapter goes along with Chapters 17 and 17-1 if you wanted to read them for review.
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Adam was in a daze, his head felt heavy on his neck, his limbs weighed down by some unknown burden. He was distantly aware of a creeping wetness soaking the back of his jeans and he tilted his head slowly in confusion to look down at the asphalt, wondering when he'd sat down and why he'd sit in a something wet.
Suddenly Dad was on him, grabbing him by the lapels of his sweat jacket, shaking him and yelling words that seemed fuzzy and too quiet for Adam to understand. Adam reached up to push Dad's hand away to stop the shaking but froze when he saw bright red on his left hand. Was that blood? Where did that come from?
The fuzziness that had shrouded him was beginning to recede and Adam blinked hard to clear his head and focus.
"Adam!" Dad was yelling, grabbing his son's jaw and staring into his eyes, "Where Adam? Where?"
"Huh?" Adam mumbled back in confusion, still feeling cotton-headed and disoriented, wondering why Dad was so frantic.
"Where are you hurt son?" the question was yelled at him and Dad now running his hands quickly over Adam's head, neck and shoulders searching.
Abruptly Adam became aware of a hot pain in his left thigh, sharp and biting, sending shooting bursts of agony from his toes to his teeth. Instinctively he gripped his leg tightly, instantly feeling a warm wetness soak his fingers.
"My leg!" he choked out, folding in on himself trying to manage the fiery pain.
"Ok. Ok, son," Dad was saying, his words getting fuzzy again, "You're gonna be ok."
Fuck. Adam thought. It was just supposed to be interviews.
/
Adam woke up early. Early enough that neither one of his older brothers were standing over him ready to shake him awake before their daily run like they usually did. When he opened his eyes he saw the back of Sam's head on the pillow beside him, blankets still pulled up closely around his shoulders, breathing deeply and easily. Adam blinked the sleep from his eyes and rolled over to see Dean sitting up on the motel bed across from them, scrubbing a hand through his hair and sleepily looking around for his shirt.
He noticed Adam was awake and gave a sluggish nod to his younger brother, "You're up early."
Adam nodded in return and sat up in bed, running a hand through his own hair in an absentminded mimic of his older brother, wiping away the last bits of sleep still clinging to him.
"Where's Dad?" Adam questioned, glancing around the room.
"In the can," Dean answered, nodding toward the bathroom behind Adam. Finding his t-shirt Dean haphazardly pulled it over his head. "Go on and get up and you can get next," he offered.
Adam threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, aiming to take Dean up on his offer before his brother could change his mind.
"Sam," Dean called out, his voice still gravelly with sleep, "Come on. Get up,"
Sam grumbled and snuggled further down into the blankets.
"Come on man. Don't make me go WWE on your ass," Dean threatened half-heartedly, standing up from the bed and stretching.
Sam groaned, but rolled onto his back and rubbed a hand across his face attempting to wake up.
"Quick five miles today boys," Dad announced coming out of the motel bathroom, a hand towel flung over one shoulder, "Me and Adam gotta get out early."
Adam grinned excitedly at Dad and hurried into the bathroom to get ready for their daily run. Normally he'd drag his feet and grumble about the early morning PT that Dad demanded, especially since his legs were still sore from the extra five miles Dad made him run yesterday as punishment, but today he didn't mind. He just wanted to get out and get it over with so he and Dad could get on the road to work the case.
Adam would have never thought getting expelled from school would have turned into something so cool. Dad had never asked him to go along for interviews during a case before. Sure he'd done a few hunts: easy cases with ghosts and once a lone werewolf, and he'd done all the research a person could do, but he'd never dealt with the human element of hunting before. He'd seen the stack of badges that Dad and Dean had in their cars, everything from FBI and CIA to Park Rangers. He was eager to see what web of lies Dad would have to spin to make each of these fake personas a reality. And he couldn't wait to try his hand at lying for the case.
Standing in the parking lot outside the motel stretching with Dad, Adam could barely contain himself. He was trying to stay cool and collected in front of Dad and his brothers but he was honestly more excited then he had been in a long time. He'd never admit it to them though. They would never understand. He wasn't sure he completely understood himself. He thought he would have been more excited to go on his first hunt with Dad, but he was so scared the entire time that he didn't remember being excited at all. But there was nothing scary about asking people questions. He didn't even have to carry anything but his normal silver knife, not the loads of weapons he was obligated to have on his person when they went out on kill mission.
"Let's go boys!" Dad called back into the room, trying to hustle his older brothers out the door.
John looked over at his youngest son, noticing that the boy was nearly bouncing in place with all the nervous energy he'd built up overnight thinking about the interviews. Hopefully the PT would chill the kid out a little bit.
John wasn't sure why Adam was so excited and interested in the interviews he'd been invited on. Although both older boys were great on interviews, neither seemed particularly interested in talking to witnesses. Dean liked the thrill of the chase and the physical challenges the hunt brought him. And Sam was always willing to read and research for a case, no matter how many century old books or papers he had to search through. Adam, however, was turning out to be a wild card for John. Years before, in a different life, John remembered friends telling him and Mary that siblings were always different from each other and when she was pregnant with Sam, the same friends would remind them not to expect the next baby to sleep like Dean had, or eat like Dean had, or do anything the same way Dean did. John knew all this and tried to expect it, but it was still a shock when newborn Sam slept through the night at three months old when Dean hadn't slept all night until he was nearly a year, or when baby Sam wasn't walking when Dean had taken his first baby toddles at ten months old.
Between the older boys, John thought he'd really seen both ends of the spectrum that a kid could fall on when it came to hunting, but Adam kept finding ways to surprise him. Adam wasn't wild about guns and weapons training, but he seemed to like all the sparring and survival skills John and Dean were teaching him. John was quietly impressed that the kid turned out to be a decent researcher. He had the patience to sit and read through the massive stacks of lore that Sam foisted upon him, but on the other hand, he was absolute shit at Latin and half the time couldn't remember the critical details of monsters he was studying. John tried to have patience with his son, continually reminding himself that the older boys had been in and around the hunting life for as long as they could remember and Adam had only been introduced a year ago. It was hard though; the thoughts of the looming darkness in the world scared John more than he would ever care to admit, causing him to feel an intense pressure to get Adam trained up and able to protect himself.
The morning run went by quickly and although John was pleased with the all boys' times he had to bite his tongue to keep from reminding each of them of the importance of cardio in the hunting world. He knew he'd said it before, possibly every morning that he did PT with them, and it would only earn an eye-roll from his younger sons which he would be forced to correct and sour a pleasant morning.
"First shower!" Adam called as they jogged back into the parking lot of the EZ Stay Motel, quickly sprinting away from his brothers and towards the door of their room.
"Hey!" Sam shouted, taking off after him, "I've gotta get to school you dick!"
"Sam!" John admonished loudly at the back of Sam's head as the boy ran off to chase down his younger brother.
John sighed and rolled his eyes as he watched the two younger boys jostle each other to open the motel room door first. Despite being small Adam was becoming a good fighter and John was proud to say the kid was learning to use his small size as an asset, ducking under and around his older brother to get in the door first.
"You driving Sammy to school today?" John questioned Dean as they stood in the motel parking lot stretching out their warm muscles. He already knew the answer was 'yes', Dean drove the boys to school every day John couldn't, but John in was in the mood to start a conversation with his boy and the morning activities were as good a place to start as any.
"That's the plan." Dean replied, "I figured I'd hit the library after and see what I can work up on that Naples case before I meet up with Caleb tomorrow."
John nodded in acknowledgment, ignoring the stone of fear that had developed in his stomach at the mention of Dean going on a hunt without him.
"Should be a milk run," Dean continued, "But I figure I'll check the local lore just in case."
John nodded again, wanting to praise his son for the smart moves he was making, working a case from every angle like he had been taught rather than running in hot headed to ice the ghost like he knew Dean wanted to, but the fear of what might await his boy stole the voice from John's throat and he had to cough to find his composure.
"You and Caleb keep an eye on each other," John said, clapping a hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezing it. "And you call me when it's done ok?"
"Yes sir," Dean nodded seriously.
John gave his son a tight half smile and used the hand on his shoulder to direct him toward the motel room, fighting the urge to grab the boy and hug him tightly and tell him just to stay home. The thought of his boy going out into the hunting world without him made John physically sick. Hunting was always dangerous. There was danger in any case they followed. John repeated the statement enough to his boys, not in an attempt to scare them, but to make them appreciate the seriousness of their lives. Each time they stepped out to hunt something they took a risk. John knew that hunting was not a profession with a long life span and he shuddered to think that he might have shortened his own children's years by introducing them at such young ages. John tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that his children were better prepared than most hunters twice their age. John's own intense pressure and the boys' natural aptitude had made them all exceptionally skilled.
But those thoughts did nothing to assuage the fear and trepidation that weighed on John as he thought of the hunt Dean was preparing to go on. It was what the Winchesters considered to be a 'milk run': an angry ghost that had been harassing a family after they had become the new owners of a 70-year-old home. John had done his own research on the case, surreptitiously ensuring that it was safe enough for Dean and Caleb to tackle without him. Since Dean had turned 21 he'd been almost begging to go out hunting alone. John recognized that his son was growing up and that he needed time away from his father and his younger siblings to spread his wings and learn on his own. It was a difficult pill to swallow and in the time since Dean's birthday, he'd only been allowed on two hunts without John. And those cases were only permitted because they were with one of the three other hunters that John trusted and were cases that he had personally vetted.
If Dean was bothered by John's strict standards and iron like grip over his hunting future, he never said anything. John liked to believe that Dean was content to follow orders because he knew the significant danger he could face, but in all likelihood the kid just kept his mouth shut to save his own ass. Dean wasn't stupid in any way and he probably just accepted John's stipulations, because he didn't want to lose the opportunity arguing over details.
Besides, John reminded himself, Dean was an outstanding hunter, almost as good as John himself and half his age. Dean was strong, fast and smart. And despite his impulsive nature he could be restrained and serious when the cards were down.
And Caleb would be there. And Caleb was no slouch when it came to hunting. The last in a long family line of hunters, the boy had also been raised in the life and was well versed in the supernatural. Caleb was one of only a handful of hunter John trusted. The hunting community as a whole was filled with broken and unsavory characters that John preferred to keep away from his small family. There were only ten or so people that John considered trustworthy enough to even let them know he had children and only three that John actually trusted enough to look out for them. Pastor Jim had helped him many years ago when the boys were small, taking in the broken man and two preschoolers and comforting them. An introduction to Bobby Singer brought endless amounts of useful information and a convenient rough and tumble salvage yard playground for the rambunctious kids throughout their elementary and middle school years. Caleb was the last in a long line of hunters and after his father was killed by a family rugarus some years ago, John had taken the boy under his wing and often brought him out on hunts with his own boys or found time to stop by Caleb's family home in Nebraska to check up on the kid. Although he wasn't a kid so much now. Caleb was six years older than Dean and John had recently realized that he and Dean could be a completely capable hunting team and they'd both likely enjoy the company of someone closer in age. As much as John preferred for Dean to only hunt under the safety of his own watchful eye, he felt confident that Caleb understood the severity of their lifestyle and was happy that Caleb was a little more conservative than his own son when it came to planning out kill missions.
The thought of Dean's upcoming hunt still left a stone of discomfort in John's stomach, but he mentally shook off the fear and focused back on the interviews he'd be taking Adam on today. He needed to make sure his head was clear and in the game if one of the boys was going to be out with him.
Thirty minutes and two bathroom scuffles later John and Adam were ready and headed out in John's truck to Hartsville. It was a two-hour drive away from the EZ Stay and the other boys, but that was part of John's strategy. While he always wanted the boys close, he never wanted them close enough to a case to become collateral damage.
"Adam, let's go over the case again," John said, reaching between them on the bench seat to hand Adam a thin manila folder filled with the details of the case.
"Again?" Adam questioned impatiently, "Dad we talked about it for like three hours last night. I think I got it."
John turned away from the road just long enough to give the boy a formidable stare, silently encouraging him to correct his tone and attitude before John had to pull over and do it for him.
Thankfully Adam took the hint and quickly amended his statement, "Sorry. Sorry." He rushed, opening the folder that had been handed to him.
"Ok, so police found a woman murdered in her apartment and they say the husband did it because he left DNA and fingerprints at the scene, but the husband claims he was at a bar at the time and there are several people and security camera footage that put him there, right?" Adam said.
"Right," John agreed with a nod, proud that the boy had been paying attention while he and Dean examined the elements of the case last night.
"Local blues are calling this a 'crime of passion'," John explained, not taking his eyes off the road, "Why is that?"
Adam looked down at the black and white crime scene photo in his lap, examining the gruesome scene the police had come upon.
"Ugh," Adam muttered, not trying to hide his disgust. "Cause its super gross?" he asked, his lip turned up in revulsion as he examined the pools of blood on the carpet and the splatters that covered the apartment walls.
John had to work to suppress the chuckle that bubbled up at Adam's unintentionally juvenile comment.
"Well actually, yes," he said, biting back a smile, reminding himself to stay stern so that Adam would understand the gravity of the situation he was being brought into. "Cops call it a crime of passion because no thief or burglar would go to the lengths this thing did to hurt this woman. Even in the crime scene photos, we can tell that the victim knew her assailant very well,"
Adam shuffled through the three other crime scene photos, reminding himself not to think to hard about the horrific scene they depicted. Last year he would have had nightmares after seeing pictures like this, remembering for days the unnatural look of the victim's face and the sickening sight of body parts not attached to a body. But thanks to some advice from Sam, Adam had learned to detach himself and his emotions from the more grisly parts of hunting life. He sometimes thought of it like living in an episode of Law and Order. Scenes were gross and violent, but they passed quickly and then it was back to just talking about what happened.
He looked closely at the photos again, examining the wide puddles of blood and the splatters across the curtains and the walls, wondering what other clues he should be looking for in the photos.
"So police say the woman was cheating on her husband and he killed her for it?" Adam said, looking over at Dad.
"Basically, but given the circumstances, I doubt that's the case. There are too many witnesses to corroborate his statement, not to mention the security footage," Dad explained, "There's definitely more going on here than the normal lover scorned."
"You think it's a shapeshifter right?" Adam questioned, shuffling through past the photos to look at the other notes Dad had included in the case file.
"Almost positive. But what are some other things it could be?" Dad asked in return.
"Why does it matter? You said it's a shifter." Adam asked, wondering why Dad would question his own theory.
"I'm asking you to think Adam. This is how you work a case." John explained. "It may be a shifter, but it could just as easily not be. There are a lot of creatures out there in the world and you need to be able to put together the clues to find out what exactly you are hunting so you can take it out effectively. That means not jumping to the first easy conclusion."
"Oh," Adam said, biting his tongue to keep from asking why Dad had to make things so difficult. Dean always told him to go with his gut, so why bother doing the extra work? If it quacks like a duck, it's a duck right?
"So? "John asked again, prodding his young son.
"Umm…" Adam started, trying to rack his brain on what other weird stuff he knew about that could make it appear that a person was in two places at once. "Umm maybe a witch?" he asked, skeptical of his own answer.
"Ok, how?" John pushed.
"I mean I guess they'd just cast some spell right? Seems like witches can do all sorts of crazy crap." Adam answered with a shrug.
"Ok, what else?" John pressed again, wanting to see how much of the information Sam was teaching him that Adam was actually retaining.
Adam was quiet for a few moments, trying to come up with something else that fit the qualifications of the case, but nothing was really coming to mind. He snuck a look over at Dad, wondering if there was something blatant he was missing and feeling like a dumbass for not knowing whatever it was Dad was trying to get him to say.
"I don't know, a fairy?" he asked, hopeful that his shot in the dark answer would be at least a little correct.
"A fairy? Adam." Dad admonished.
"Well, I don't know!" Adam snapped, embarrassed.
Another testing look was sent across the cab of the truck and Adam folded his arms in barely contained fury. Was the whole day gonna be like this? Dad quizzing him on every detail of the case? Feeling stupid for not knowing the right answers? The excitement of the morning was slowly fading and Adam was starting to regret ever wanting to come along.
He heard his father huff and looked over to watch Dad tighten his two handed hold on the steering wheel, a move Adam recognized from Dean's attempts to calm down when Sam went on a rant about his brother's terrible taste in music.
"Adam. You are here to learn. That's the whole point of everything we are doing. Its ok not to know the answers, but you better learn to keep that attitude in check." Dad warned.
Adam bit the inside of his lip and mumbled an apologetic "Sorry Dad," while sliding down into the seat of the cab.
They were quiet for a long time, both watching the scenery pass as they continued to make their way to Hartsville. Adam was trying to think about the case, trying to think like a hunter and plan for all the possibilities they might encounter. Dad said he thought the creature that murdered the woman was likely a shapeshifter, but then after the annoying Q & A session this morning, maybe Dad wasn't so sure after all. Maybe he was asking Adam questions to confirm his own suspicion. It was unlikely, but the idea still comforted Adam and went along way to soothing his annoyance at his father. But really it had to be a shapeshifter. Adam didn't know of another creature that could leave a person's DNA at a scene, much less frame that person for murder. But why in the world would a shapeshifter frame someone? What kind of sense did that make?
The thought brought him back to a conversation he'd had with Sam over the summer while they were out in Colorado working a case with Dad. Sam and Adam had been relegated to research in the local library as usual, while Dad and Dean went to speak to the local forest service and Sam was pretty pissed about being left out for some reason.
"I just don't know why they have to go after the thing," he grumbled repeatedly to Adam, who after hearing the complaint the first ten times had just about tuned his brother out.
"It's a monster Sam. Who cares?" Adam asked with a sigh, hoping his brother would, for once, just let the whole thing go so they could do their research and go get lunch.
"I care Adam!" Sam had shouted back, earning him a stern look from the one other person in the library that day.
"It's not even hurting anyone!" Sam said in a harsh whisper, leaning across the table to point at the newspapers in front of Adam.
"Not yet." Adam shot back, annoyed. "It's working its way up the food chain Sam: first dogs and deer and now cows and horses? People are next man."
"We don't know that Adam!" Sam said vehemently, "We don't have to kill it cause of something it might do!"
Adam had stared back at his brother incredulous, feeling sure that Sam had lost his mind.
"What do you mean? It's a monster. Monsters are bad. We kill bad." Adam said assuredly.
"Yeah but what if we are killing stuff that isn't all bad?" Sam questioned in a whisper, his eyes bright with emotion.
"What are you talking about man?" Adam asked shaking his head; afraid of what Sam might be thinking and becoming uncomfortable with where the conversation was going.
"What if we could…I don't know… talk to the monsters and stuff instead of just killing them? What if there's another way?"
Adam wrinkled his brow in confusion at his older brother, "What?"
"Think about it man! Some of the stuff we go after is basically human, give or take a few chromosomes: witches, shifters, vampires. Why do we have to shoot first and ask questions later? What if we are going about this the wrong way?"
Adam was beginning to feel sick to his stomach and just wanted Sam to stop talking.
"Sam…."
"I mean what if we could talk to them? What if we could teach them? If they don't kill humans than we don't have to kill them! It's simple! Surely there are some out there who are good? Just like there are good people and bad people? There's gotta be good and bad monsters too?" Sam rambled excitedly.
Adam stood up from the table suddenly, sending newspapers and notes sliding. "I don't wanna talk about this Sam." He said, shaking his head, trying to clear his brother's invasive ideas.
Sam stood up as well, leaning across the table again trying to get Adam to look him in the eye.
"Adam, come on. You don't honestly believe everything Dad tells you right? Don't you wanna think for yourself sometimes?"
Adam closed his eyes and shook his head again. Sam had obviously been thinking about this for a while, but the whole idea made Adam uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't explain.
"The world isn't black and white Adam. There's room for the grey areas."
"Shut up Sam!" Adam whispered harshly, "I don't wanna talk about this!"
"Fine!" Sam spat forcefully, sitting back down, "You just go and be Daddy's good little soldier like Dean. God forbid either of you ever have an original thought."
Adam swallowed weakly, feeling a throbbing headache beginning to build behind his eyes. He didn't want to consider Sam's words. He didn't need to question Dad. He didn't want to wonder about the humanity of monsters. He had too much else to think about. He was just trying to keep his head above water as it was. Training and research and generally learning how to survive his new family was taking everything he had.
Adam felt the discomfort of that day returning as he stared out the window of Dad's truck remembering his argument with Sam, wondering why a shapeshifter would kill an innocent woman.
"Dad?" he questioned quietly, startling his father from his own thoughts.
"Police said 'crime of passion' right?"
Dad nodded.
"So maybe that means the shifter was angry when he killed this woman?" Adam probed hesitantly, "Maybe even jealous of her husband?
"Maybe…" John answered skeptically, unsure of where Adam was going his questioning.
"I mean jealously is like a pretty human emotion. If shapeshifters can have human emotions…and they can be bad like humans… do you think they can be good like humans too?" Adam asked, turning to study his father and wait for an answer.
John was silent, cutting his eyes to the side slightly to study his youngest son suspiciously. While Adam was a pretty smart kid, he had a feeling the origin of this 'can monsters be good' question didn't come from the 13-year-old across from him.
"What makes you say that?" John asked curiously.
"I don't know," Adam responded quickly, "Just wondering I guess."
John licked his lips and stayed quiet, letting the silence between them linger, waiting to see if Adam would fill the space.
"I mean, Sam said…"Adam started cautiously, before cutting himself off.
Ah, there it was. Sam. Of course it was his middle child who was questioning the natural order of the world. Leave it to Sam Winchester to look for the grey in a black and white world.
"Adam." John said firmly, causing his youngest to look over at him solemnly, "Monsters are monsters. Not people. I know you know that."
Adam nodded slowly and looked away from his father's intensity, staring back down at the manila envelope in his lap and hiding his eyes.
More than the other boys Adam already knew that monsters were not human; that there were no redeeming qualities to be found in the creatures they hunted. John grit his teeth against the anger that bloomed in his chest at Sam. They were gonna have a long talk when he got back, John decided. It would end up as a fight between them he was sure, but there was no way that John was gonna let Sam continue to mess with his little brother's head like this. Sam ought to know better than to bring up these kinds of questioning ideas to Adam. Not after what the kid had been through. John shook his head at the thought of his middle son's insensitivity. Sam could be so bullheaded in his own quest to understand and justify their world that he hadn't considered that letting Adam believe all monsters were pure evil would be a kindness to the kid.
'For Christ sakes' John thought. Adam didn't need to question the motive of monsters that killed his mother. He didn't need to think about the fact that they wanted revenge for the killing of their own parent. He didn't need to know they had a motive at all. All Adam needed to know is that monsters are evil and Winchesters extinguish evil. He could sift through the philosophy of it all when he was an adult and had the experience and maturity to see all the sides of the argument. Right now, he was just a kid. And the kid deserved to believe that a bad thing killed his mom for no other reason than it was a bad thing.
"Adam," John said again, bringing Adam's eyes back to his own, "You listen to me. What we hunt- they are not human. Not in any way. You understand?"
"Yes sir," Adam said seriously.
"Alright then," John said, satisfied with his son's answer. "We're gonna go stop by the police station first, they've got the husband in custody and I wanna ask him a few more questions."
A/N- Thoughts?! This would be my first 'case-fic' story and I'm not total sure I wanna continue it. I'd love to hear what you guys think about it! Thank you for taking the time to read and review! And thank you to everyone who has been reading this story for so long! Thank you! Thank you!