Chapter Seven
John's head was spinning.
The fear in Sam's eyes during his panic attack, the hard lines in Dean's face that hadn't been there when they'd separated only a few months previous…none of it was adding up.
They'd told him that the cause of Sam's trauma was an attack at his school but…the trauma seemed older and it was worse than what they'd told him. The conversation he'd heard from their side of the walls rang through his ears brewing more questions than it produced answers, but among it all one important fact stood out to him.
His sons were together.
Since losing Mary, he'd been warned by many of his friends that the way he was raising his boys was wrong, that it could affect their social growth but he'd never believed it. Why should he? Dean was the socialite, he loved being around people (women, in particular) and from his point of view, the boy was as well-adjusted to society as anyone else. Sam, while not as social as his brother, was still friendly towards other people and didn't mind helping others. He saw nothing wrong with their social growth despite Caleb and Jim's comments of them being unhealthily codependent.
They weren't…or so he'd thought.
The warmth in their voices as they spoke to each other was so eerily reminiscent of the warmth between him and Mary that it made his chest ache and he didn't know whether to be upset or ashamed. Don't get him wrong, he was happy if they were happy…but their dependency on each other, their more than brotherly relationship, it was all his fault.
Sighing, he shook it from his head.
As long as there was no PDA in front of him, he would support them.
It was the least he could do for them.
Instead, he focused on the other part of their conversation he'd caught.
Azazel.
His sons wanted to convinced him to stay with them to hunt this Azazel character instead of focusing his attention on the YED. While he appreciated their concern, he was fine and he knew how to look after himself just fine. He wouldn't give up his vengeance, not yet.
He couldn't.
Breakfast was a strange affair.
Their father sat at the head of the table staring off into space pensively as he ate. Beside him, Kate and Dean spoke in quiet tones about one thing or another, while the former continued to shovel pancakes into his mouth like a heathen. Adam sat beside him, face drawn and pale as he ate in silence.
Sam would've given anything to eat with them.
Anything.
But his pancakes, or rather his breakfast in general was serving as Lucifer's tool this morning. The once welcoming stack of pancakes had become molded and stale after his first bite, his bacon full of writhing maggots and his eggs- he shuddered- his eggs were emitting a putrid smell that only he seemed to notice, blood making them glisten in the light of the dining room.
His stomach gave a low snarl and cramped painfully but he ignored it, moving the food around his plate to make it seem like he was eating.
"You gonna eat or keep playing with it?"
He blinked and glanced at Adam who was glaring at him with a face so eerily reminiscent of Dean's "Big-Brother" face that he snorted.
His bitchface and Dean's Big-Bro face. Kid was gonna be hell as an adult.
Lucifer snickered behind him. "Eat your maggots, Sammy. They're good for you."
"Not hungry." He responded, ignoring the apparition, who pouted.
Adam's scowl deepened.
"Eat." He responded drawing everyone else's attention to the older man, who clenched his jaw but forced himself to pick up his fork and place a bit of pancake in his mouth. The mold made his taste buds shrivel and he had to fight not to vomit at the feel of the stale pastry on his tongue.
Lucifer chuckled maliciously and he dropped the fork, forcing himself to swallow his food.
"N-not hungry." He repeated and his younger brother's (son, his mind whisper traitorously) hard gaze softened.
"What's wrong, Sam?"
"Yeah, Ssam. Tell him what's wrong." The apparition leaned forward resting his head on the teen's head and Sam's eyes flashed.
Lucifer knew better than to touch Adam. It was the one thing guaranteed to set Sam off in the Cage and he knew it. It was his favorite thing to do when it seemed like Sam's will was faltering.
"Sam?" Dean's voice drew his gaze from the devil and he met the older male's gaze calmly.
"I'm fine."
Moss green eyes narrowed. "Then eat."
"Not hungry."
"Now, Sam."
"I'm. Not. Hungry." He snarled, standing and before they could pester him anymore he stormed out of the room, Lucifer's cackles and his family's worried gazes following him as he did so.
Dean gritted his teeth as he glared at Sam's nearly untouched breakfast, every part of his being cursing Cas and Lucifer.
He hated what they'd done to his lover, Lucifer more so than Cas, but the latter's crimes were worse simply because they'd trusted him. They'd trusted him and his betrayal had hurt more than anything either heaven or hell had subjected them to because he was family. He was their brother.
He snarled wordlessly, heart clenching painfully.
Now wasn't the time.
He couldn't afford to wallow in his own anger and pain. Not with Sam falling apart slowly in front of him.
Adam swallowed thickly at the look in his eldest brother's eyes while their father scowled deeply.
In the Cage, Lucifer would taunt Sam about how Dean had broken and become Alistair's best student and seeing his brother's expression now made Adam believe it. The older hunter looked ready to spill some blood, and yet the only thing that kept the youngest Winchester from flinching away from him was that the look wasn't directed at anyone. If anything, it seemed to be directed inwards at an unseen foe, one Adam was sure was partly responsible for Sam's current mental state.
He frowned, turning his moss colored gaze toward the door Sam had left through.
It had been years (lifetimes) since he'd seen his brother (mother, father, aunt, uncle, Protector) so fragile mentally. Not since their fifth (or was it the sixth?) life together. It had been one of the worst ones, especially when Lucifer had- no, no. He shook his head, forcing the images of Sam's tear-stained face and the sound of his broken pleas from his mind. There was no way. Lucifer was still trapped in the Cage, of that he was certain. The apocalypse wasn't scheduled for another few years.
He snorted, nearly flinching when his father (John, not father) turned his stern, hawk-like gaze away from Sam's barely eaten breakfast to meet his. After a moment, that gaze left him and landed on Dean who stared back coldly.
"You lied to me. Last night, when you were explaining what happened, you lied. Why? Dean, what the hell is happening to my son?"
Dean was unmoved, his eyes neither softening nor hardening in the face of their father's words. He stared at the elder hunter for a full minute, then stood abruptly.
"We've got a lead on Azazel. We're leaving in twenty minutes."
"Dean-"
The eldest Winchester was ignored, his son's hard stare moving to Adam before it softened slightly.
"Me, Dad, and Sam are leaving and it'll be a while before we return."
Adam swallowed. He wanted to protest, god did he want to protest because Sam wasn't well. He had to be near him…
"Do you want to come? Get to know us better?"
It was a ploy, a good one, but a ploy all the same. Something to ease his parents into allowing him to go.
Dean was awesome.
"No." John replied immediately.
"John-" Kate argued but the Winchester patriarch stood firm.
"No. My job is dangerous, Kate. He could get hurt."
She scowled, seeing the devastation Adam tried to hide.
"Then teach him!" She snapped and he scowled.
"Kate." She gave him a look and he sighed.
"Alright." He replied and Adam grinned.
John's lip twitched. How could he stay stoic in the face of such honest excitement?
He couldn't.
Still…
"Dean, you and Sam will be training him, understood?"
Dean nodded, but looked away as Sam reappeared in the doorway ghost-silent.
"We're training Adam."
John braced himself for Sam's inevitable explosion, well aware of how his middle child felt about hunting. To his surprise, the younger man gave a wan smile but didn't comment.
"Azazel?" There was that name again.
"Spotted in Indiana."
He cleared his throat.
"Boys…who is Azazel?"
Dean gave a grim smile. "You should know. You've been chasing him for over two decades."
"You mean?"
"Yeah, Azazel is the demon that killed mom."
TBC…