The Beckoning

Chapter Two: Cataclysm

A/N: All I have to say is that I am overwhelmed…Thanks so much to all those who've read and who've reviewed. If I haven't thanked you personally yet, and you left a source for me to contact you at, I definitely will. I just wanted to get this written and posted as soon as possible, and between this and work and the holidays coming up it's been pretty busy. I hope not to let you down with future installments! Oh, and my mistake in chapter one, I never specified the gender of "the voice"…so I kinda had to throw that in this chapter. Sorry about that. Now, onward with the story…

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Sam could hardly recall the past few moments. Adrenaline coursed through him as he practically jumped down the flight of stairs and weaved through the dark, narrow hallways, searching for a way into the cellar. All he could think about was getting to Dean. Was he still breathing? Was he still alive?

Don't leave me…

He couldn't let himself panic, not when his brother needed him. He reached the stairway leading to the cellar but could not take the proper time to brace himself for the worst-case scenario. As far as he was concerned, there could be no worst-case scenario. It was impossible to even think his brother was—

No one is invincible…but Dean…he's the strongest person you know. He'll fight. He's fighting.

Sam nearly fell down the stairwell, feeling the multiple steps were tiny obstacles preventing him from reaching his brother.

Pure darkness surrounded him, save for the grim moonlight seeping in through cracks in the broken floors of the house, revealing partially shattered windows above. Sam quickly pushed the thought away of the entire manor caving in on them. The first beacon of hope he saw was the first light switch he'd seen since they entered the manor. Or maybe it was the first he really took time in hoping to find. He flicked the switch on and gave a silent praise as light overtook the darkness of the room. No light, however, could overtake the darkness before him, seeing Dean beneath collapsed wreckage.

He immediately dove for his brother, taking what blocks and pieces of debris he could and throwing them off.

"Dean, can you hear me?" He wasn't sure if it was fair to expect a response automatically, considering the circumstances. He'd give anything to hear a smartass remark or a blunt insult to quit being such a wuss.

He continued through Dean's silence to remove the debris. Sam wondered about possible broken bones or internal injuries, and if it would be safe to move him. He wasn't a doctor but he'd seen it observed enough during the mildly frequent trips to the E.R. when they had been younger.

Dean's head and upper back seemed to be covered with most of the debris, although his entire body was pinned by one massive portion of the above floor. Sam winced at the sight of blood that consumed most of his brother's head, trickling over his face.

"Dean," Sam wasn't sure what else to say but to call out for his brother. It had appeared the prior bearings of the house may have broken the worst part of Dean's fall. Still, Sam couldn't be completely sure about internal injuries. Whether Dean would have willed it or not, Sam was going to get him to a hospital. This did not seem an injury a small first-aid kit could handle.

The only question was how to get Dean up to the Impala.

Sam, for the first time since reaching his brother, took his eyes away from the situation to investigate the surroundings. Through weak light he could see boxes and old furniture pieces, nothing unusual from the rest of the manor.

He pulled his brother up, lifting his head to his shoulder for support. Sam was relieved to hear his brother still breathing, as shaky of breaths as they were. Dean's pulse was low but still beating and for Sam that meant hope.

All Sam had to cling to in this life was Dean…and hope. If he lost one, he'd surely lose the other.

"I'm gonna get you out of here," Sam promised himself and his unconscious brother. He looked around again. The only way out was up. "You might hate me for this, later,"

He stood warily while trying to support Dean's deadweight, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he might already be. After maintaining the balance of himself and Dean for a moment, Sam took time while impatiently maneuvering his brother to his side so to better carry him. He needed to get Dean out of there, and fast.

Adrenaline was helping him out graciously but it would never be enough if Sam couldn't get Dean to a hospital in time. His strength was fading but he knew he had to be strong enough for them both. Although his stamina was slowing with every sluggish step up, knowing it brought Dean closer to help granted him all the more energy. He was careful though to put most all the weight on himself and keep Dean supported.

Finally reaching the top and after nearly tumbling back down, the rest of the venture was a task only due to the darkness. Dawn was approaching and so more light was able to leak in from the rising sun, which helped a little.

"Stay with me, Dean," Sam talked to his virtually lifeless brother. When Dean responded with a weak moan, it was all Sam needed to hear to finish the journey back to the Impala.

Sam understood Dean would be utterly pissed when he saw the bloodstains covering the precious interiors of his car, but he couldn't be bothered by that now. He carefully slid Dean into the passenger seat. Sam took off his jacket and put it behind Dean's head for support, and to add a bit more pressure to the bleeding. He then shut the door carefully, but quickly, and hopped over and into the driver's seat.

There was no speed limit to Sam as he sped off towards the local hospital. He felt a small sense of pride in his consideration to make sure he knew where all hospitals were located in every new place they took on a hunt. Just incase.

-:-

Sam stood alone in a cemetery. The moonlight knitted through the fog circling him in the cold darkness.

"Dean?" he called out and heard nothing but the echoes of his voice. There was no wind he could feel, but still the fog was moving all around him. He moved anxiously about the cemetery grounds filtering through the clusters of unmarked gravestones. Where was his brother?

"Dean!" he called out again louder, and this time the echoes seemed to shake the ground. For a moment Sam lost balance but quickly regained it while pausing, waiting for the ground to stop shaking. He glanced around until he saw an orange flame rise up from the earth, it hissed to life and as fast as it arose it died out, leaving behind a new grave. Sam gulped, using more energy than necessary to swallow as his mouth began feeling dry and his eyes began to moisten. He walked toward the gravestone as it melded in with the fog.

Each step he took brought him closer to reading the name etched in the new stone. He feared what it would read. It couldn't be…no, it wouldn't be…

Sam's mouth gaped open as the fog cleared momentarily and the name was becoming visible.

"He isn't coming back…"

That damnable voice returned. Sam swung around in a stance prepared to attack, though he didn't know with what as he was weaponless.

"Who are you? Where is my brother?"

"It does not matter, not anymore. He isn't coming back. I won't let him."

"Son of a…" Sam realized he still had no idea of where the voice's source came from. As loud, near deafening, as it was, he could only make out that it was a middle-aged male who was seemingly omnipresent. "Show yourself, you coward!"

The man laughed with eagerness and pity.

"Tell me, what will you do without big brother to protect you?"

"I swear," Sam gritted his teeth, flashing looks in all directions. "If you hurt him, I'll kill you,"

"My boy," the man's voice dropped to a somber note with a comical twist. "I'm already dead."

With that, fire erupted again before him, sending him to the ground from a blast of heat.

-:-

Sam shot up, startled, trying to draw away from the residual feeling of flames clawing at him. He nearly toppled out over his chair. Ignoring the prying eyes of other people in the waiting room, he quickly shook off the nightmare and attempted to regain composure.

He blinked open tired eyes and looked around, trying to recall what happened.

Dean was hurt badly…drove him to the hospital…checked him in…waited…

Sam was still waiting. He looked at his watch reading 9:47 a.m. He didn't seem to retain the concept of time when his brother was injured. He wondered how long it'd been since they arrived there, how long Dean was being taken care of. He then wondered how much longer he'd have to wait to hear if his brother would be okay. He couldn't wait. Luckily enough, he woke up just in time to see a doctor walking towards him.

"Sam?"

"Yes. My brother, Dean, is he"—

"Please, sir, calm down a moment," the doctor tried to politely calm the worried young Winchester down. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, and nodded his head towards the hall. "Walk with me,"

Sam wanted to refuse, he wanted answers now, but something in him restrained from lashing out. He knew he'd have to cooperate if he wanted to see Dean sooner than later. But where was Dean?

"Your brother has suffered from a harsh concussion. The concussion itself is nothing too extensive, however I recommend keeping him overnight for observation. After that, you'll need to keep a close eye on him, and,"—

"I know," Sam interrupted the familiar speech. It was nothing new to him. Dean has had concussions before. "So he'll be okay? Is he awake? Can I see him?"

The doctor looked away for a moment. As the two walked at a slow and steady pace down the pale-lighted hall, it seemed the doctor was preparing another diagnosis, one for Sam.

"Look," Sam eyed the name badge on the almost-too-white jacket of the doctor, "Dr. Chase? Just…tell me. My brother will be all right." It wasn't a question Sam was asking, but a plea.

"Dean will be fine, at least…in the physical sense,"

Sam's body tensed.

"What do you mean?" He almost glared at the doctor. What a pathetic place to pause, as if to beg for Sam to ask the obvious question. Of course he wanted to be indulged. This was his brother, his family.

Dr. Chase sighed. "There's no easy way to say this,"

"Then just say it! And don't even think about going into Medical School lingo with me." Sam spat. He was usually always cordial, but if it came to his brother he could get downright demanding. "I'd just like to know, in plain English, what's wrong with my brother, please,"

"Sam, your brother has amnesia,"

Sam stopped walking as if Dr. Chase's words had fallen onto the floor. Sam had almost bent down to pick them up and put them together in a way that was coherent, that was acceptable.

"Amnesia," Sam said the word like it was a demon. He bit his bottom lip and became engrossed in thoughts of how this demon could be slain. Could it be killed? If it was a demon and it could be killed, Sam would surely find a way.

"Sam?" Dr. Chase called to Sam like he was in a far-off place. "I need you to stay focused for me, okay? Your welfare is going to become extremely important for your brother, now,"

Sam could have scoffed if his voice wasn't hiding, if his entire body wasn't numb. My welfare has always been important to Dean, more so than his own…

He forced himself to nod with bitter compliancy.

"Now, with the damage his brain endured from the fall, it's still hard to say how long his amnesia will last. Most patients can expect a full recovery."

"But not all? Not my brother? That's what you're telling me," Sam fought the urge to cry. And even though Sam knew Dr. Chase didn't give Dean amnesia, he still wanted to punch him in the face for being so clam about it.

"This amnesia can last anywhere from a few days, to a few weeks…maybe a few months, and perhaps," Dr. Chase stopped and looked at Sam with…was it pity? "In some cases, the memory never returns,"

The look glazing over Sam's watery eyes that Dr. Chase observed to some would seem of fear. To others it would seem like terror.

Sam put his hands to either side of his head and tightened his grip, nearly pulling his hair. He shook his head and without knowing it began to pace alongside the doctor, who only could watch with sympathy. Sam coughed out a small laugh as one might if they heard something that was unbelievable.

"It's retrograde amnesia, meaning his memories from before the accident aren't…there, to simply put it. Amnesiac patients confuse easily, they can become frustrated easily. With the concussion we need to monitor him until we see no further potential complications."

"Can I see him?" Sam's eyes widened. He hadn't really listened to the doctor talk since he heard the word 'amnesia'. All he could think about was Dean…alone in some hospital room. Dean hated hospitals, especially being alone in one.

"I won't deny you that request; however I strongly suggest giving him time to…adjust,"

"No, please," Sam faced the doctor and looked at him sternly. "I need to be there with him, I…just, please…"

A beeping noise quietly went off and Dr. Chase pulled back his jacket and saw the faint glow of his pager. He sighed and looked back up at Sam.

"You'll need to get more information on this before Dean can be released tomorrow, assuming his vitals are strong enough. You must understand, if you go see him, he may panic and not want to see you. Are you ready to handle that?" Dr. Chase had firmly placed a thorn in Sam's side.

"I'll do whatever I have to do. I just need to see my brother."

"Very well," Dr. Chase pointed down the bare hall. "He's in the last room on the left."

Sam would have made a decent jock in school if he gave sports (outside of hunting with his father) half a chance for as quickly as he sprinted towards the room.

"Sam," Dr. Chase yelled, and Sam hardly stopped before turning to face him again. "He's going to need your support, now more than ever…even if he doesn't realize it yet. This is going to take time and it's going to be a healing process…for both of you." With that, Dr. Chase did his own fast walk to the hospital lobby. Sam drew in a cold breath.

-:-

He was scared to look through the room window and see his brother lying there, helpless. He knew though that anticipation was the worst.

Just get this over with…

Sam stood in front of the window and refused the awkward temptation to look into the room. He wanted to see his brother, a visual confirmation of his well-being. And yet he didn't want to see his brother. Not in some tacky hospital dress, with I.V.'s and tubes running through him.

He decided he'd have to see his brother sometime, and he made the choice of doing it now.

He didn't realize how painful it would be. How much it would physically hurt him to see his brother in this condition. Could he really have amnesia? Could he forget so easily his entire life?

It was surreal.

Sam had to see for himself the extent this demon has affected Dean.

He tried to be quiet as he walked into the room and shut the door gently. He took small steps to his brother's hospital bed. Dean's eyes were closed, and for a moment Sam just stood there at his bedside and listened to the sound of his breathing. He relished in it. He looked so peaceful, so much at rest.

If Dean hadn't survived the fall…

Sam grimaced at the thought of losing his brother. He placed his hand atop Dean's. The light gesture was enough to startle Dean awake, which startled Sam.

"Hey," the word tumbled out of Sam's mouth. Simple. Ordinary. It was the only thing that reached his voice, for all other things he wanted to say would have spouted out unintelligibly if he didn't say something, anything.

Dean's eyes were glossy, slightly red, and they looked up at Sam with curiosity.

"…Who are you?"

Sam's stomach moved into his throat, which he carefully took time to swallow. He hadn't expected that question. At this point, Dean should be saying something like 'What do you mean, hey? Are you hurt? Are you okay?'

Although Sam didn't always appreciate it, or welcome it, he still understood it was who Dean was. And Dean's baby brother always came first.

"Me? I'm Sam…I'm…"

Your brother. Don't you remember me?

"Sam? Huh…that doesn't…do I know you?" Dean asked. He then looked around the room, and disregarding the prior question, asked "Where am I? Why am I here?"

"You fell. We were in a house, investigating, and, I…" Sam suddenly felt guilty. If he hadn't left Dean, then maybe he wouldn't have fallen. Maybe Sam could have caught him.

"Investigating what?" he asked now, becoming more aware, more frantic. Sam wished this was some practical joke Dean was playing. He was managing to turn everything that came out of Sam's mouth into a question. Sam wanted to say, 'Joke's over, ha-ha, very funny,' but he knew this wasn't a joke, and hardly anything near a laughing matter.

"Please, don't panic, Dean," Sam paused, not really knowing what to say now. And it was then Sam realized the seriousness of it all.

"Dean…I heard someone say that name, before I woke up here, I thought. Who's Dean?"

Sam eyed the room suspiciously, looking for the hidden cameras to some ridiculous Candid Camera show.

"You're Dean. That's your name. You don't remember because you have amnesia," he felt incredibly weird talking to his older brother like he was a mere child, learning something for the first time.

Dean seemed to take in what Sam said, only partially letting it register. He then quickly looked at Sam's hand on top of his and caught Sam's concerned gaze once again.

"Are we…gay?" Dean sounded worried, sliding his hand out from Sam's grasp. Sam felt a laugh readying to emerge, there was something sweetly naïve and unfathomably tragic in the question.

"No," Sam quickly smiled and then reversed to a frown. "We're brothers,"

How could you forget…

Dean opened his mouth to say something and then shut it, looking away ashamed and embarrassed. After a moment of thought and brief speculation, he returned his attention to Sam.

"…I don't remember you,"

It was those words that sent for Sam's tears to burn in his eyes. He fought to contain them, fought to be strong, but Dean was the one who hid tears, the one who was strong when everyone else was weak. Not Sam.

For an instant, Sam had a feeling he understood what his brother must have felt like when he left for Stanford: completely abandoned by the one person who had always been there for you, regardless. Sam wanted to be angry but he knew there was no foundation for anger, at least directed towards Dean. He could be angry at the world, angry at their dad, and maybe he was both of those; however, most of all, he was angry at himself.

And he looked at Dean with sadly pleading eyes, and he saw for the first time his hero who'd lost a battle, and a brother who was a stranger.

The Dean who Sam knew didn't survive the fall.

Sam kneeled down to be eye level with his brother and he took in a shaky breath.

"It's going to be frustrating, all this not knowing. I know you have and are going to have a million questions. I know you're confused and scared, and you don't know who to trust. But I'm going to tell you, to ask you, to trust me…and I promise I'll do whatever I can to help you remember…Will you trust me?" Sam asked, holding in a breath in anticipation for his brother's response.

"There's something about you…that look in your eyes…It's really kinda creepin' me out. Something's telling me I can trust you…I just…don't know if I can trust myself, whoever that is," Dean spoke carefully, like he was choosing his words rationally instead of being wrapped up in that submissive confusion. It was enough for Sam, for now.

"We'll work on figuring that out," he exhaled with a tinge of relief and let himself smile, trying to ease any tension in the room. Dean went to smile too, but then winced. "What's wrong?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Just…my head really hurts," Dean squirmed in the hospital bed trying to get comfortable.

"Yeah, that's…the concussion. The doctors say you're doing better, now. You really should get some rest," Sam took a mental note of how he suddenly sounded like the older brother, like Dean had suggested so many times that Sam get some rest.

Dean slowly nodded and shut his eyes for a moment, then abruptly opened them, half hopeful that Sam hadn't left yet.

"Hey, um…are you still going to be here when I wake up?"

"Definitely. I mean…if that's okay…" Sam fidgeted with his hands, wondering what Dean would say.

"Yeah, it's…comforting to know someone's there for you…ya know?"

"Yeah," Sam couldn't help the sadness in his voice. "I know,"

Sam sat down in a chair near his brother's bed, watched silently as he drifted off to sleep. He wondered how he was supposed to deal with this by himself. Dean was in the same room as him and still he felt somewhat alone. He couldn't do this alone.

"Come back to me, Dean," Sam whispered, as warm tears streaked down his cold skin. In the silence of the room, in the presence of his sleeping brother, Sam cried.

His brother was unidentifiable next to him, but Dean's identity was there somewhere. Sure, Sam was good at finding things. He found random facts whenever he'd research their latest job, he'd find missing clues to puzzling mysteries, he'd even find the best motel rates in any given city.

Finding his brother would be a whole different journey, but it was a journey he was determined to take.

Sam would finally see who Dean was behind the emotional barriers, before the unwarranted cataclysm of Dean's youth corrupted his childhood innocence and forced him to grow up instantaneously. Who would Dean be if he had a fresh start? Who is Dean when there are no monsters hiding in his past?

The questions seemed to only make Sam's tears singe in his eyes.

Is this my turn to be the protector? Is this my chance to save my brother? Can I save him from our destiny?

With all thoughts swarming in his mind, and one last look over at his lost brother who he vowed to find again, he let the intensity of the moment slip away into that lush pull of restful sleep.

-:-

It was almost frightening how effortless it was for him to stand there outside the room, examining the sleeping Winchester boys. How uncomplicated it would be for him to walk in there...put their suffering aside, and end it all…

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-

-:-

To be continued

-:-

-:-:-:-:-

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

A/N (again): I just wanted to apologize if my Sam and Dean were too out of character. It's kind of a different prospect when dealing with amnesiac Dean, so I'm trying to find his… "voice", how he'd act…. Oh, and that "gay" line, I meant no offense with that line, I just had an inkling to throw it in there and so I did and I'll hope I don't get in trouble for it. Also, for those who are wondering about the vampire…he'll make a more known presence in the next chapter, I promise. I hope to have another chapter up soon, hopefully before Christmas.

Thanks so much for reading!

Silver Kitten