In this story Sam is 15 which makes Dean 19
Sam leaned against the impala, flicking his hair over his eyes to fruitlessly block the hot Texas sun beaming down on him. He felt like he had been staring at the door of the motel office for an hour, when in reality it had only been two minutes. They had barely been there for 2 days, the ghost that had murdered two teenage girls salted and burned so quickly Sam was already putting the memory of the town to the back of his head. Sam had been told (demanded) to wait outside by the impala while Dad and Dean finished checking out at the motel front desk. Sam had only realized he didn't have the keys until he was already at the Impala, and by then he was too wary that he'd be yelled at for not staying outside by going back and getting the keys.
So here Sam was, slowly melting in the heat of the near empty parking lot, when the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Sam stood up from his position against the impala, watching as a man strolled over, a baseball cap on top of shaved down blonde hair, dark brown eyes locking on Sam, all while a smirk crept up on his face. Sam's gut feeling rose like a tidal force, instinctively making him step backwards in the direction of the office.
"Hey kid!" the man shouted, never taking his eyes off Sam, as if he was anticipating he'd bolt. Sam glanced back at the closed motel door (Where are Dad and Dean?) before turning around and fixing the man with a glare that screamed; stay away from me.
An angry look flashed on the man's face, as if he was offended that Sam dared to look at him like that. Yet as soon as the look had come over the man, it was gone, so fast Sam was wondering whether his paranoia made him imagine it. The man held his hands up in front of him and laughed, "Don't worry kid, I'm just wondering if you know where the closest gas station is." The man took another small step towards Sam. He was getting so close Sam could smell what seemed like barbeque and...gunsmoke? "I'm near empty and I want to make sure I'm headed in the right direction."
Sam took a step backwards, shaking his head. "Sorry, we just stopped in for a couple nights. My family and I are on a road trip, I have no idea where any gas station is." The man grinned and stepped towards him, "Are you sure, kid?" Sam decided he had had enough of this creepy man and turned to bolt, but never got the chance. The man grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him around and delivering a punch right to his face. Sam reeled from the exploding pain on his jaw, but quickly regained his footing, throwing a leg out catching the man's knee. The man cried out, which quickly turned into a laugh as he pulled out a gun from the waistband of his jeans, clicked off the safety, and pointed it. "Oh, so the kid can take a punch!"
Sam froze, not used to staring down the wrong end of the gun. Suddenly he heard the sound he was waiting for. "Hey, step away from him!" Sam risked a glance behind him, seeing a furious Dean, his gun already pointing at the stranger. Dad was right behind him, also with his gun, eyes sprinting around assessing the situation. Sam couldn't help the "Dean!" that ran out of his mouth. He saw Dean's face turn from furious to pure fear that he had never seen cross Dean's face. He got the message and turned to block the handle of the man's pistol swinging towards his head. One hand on the gun, his other shoulder rammed up towards the man's face. The man screamed in pain, jerking the gun out of Sam's grip and grabbing his shirt and spinning him around to face Dad and Dean. They had both looked like they were mid-run towards Sam. He felt cool metal on his temple and saw their faces turn bone white as they came to a skidding halt.
Oh man we are so screwed, Sam thought. They had never let anything touch Sam for more than a second, their overprotectiveness almost getting on Sam's nerves, but now he wished for it desperately, and now they weren't facing a creature, they were facing a person. And like Dean always said "Creatures, man. Creatures are predictable, they have patterns. Humans though? They're crazy."
"Don't move!" the man shouted, "if you make one step that I don't tell you to make, I'll shoot him! Now, put the guns down." Dean's face was glaring so hard, it nearly made Sam think of that stupid phrase he heard people say at school, "if you keep making that face, it'll stay that way forever!" The man didn't seem phased by it, instead driving the gun deeper into Sam's head. "Put them down!" Dad and Dean slowly put their guns on the ground, Dean even going as far as to kick it over the cement towards them. "Look man," Dean began, "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, or what the fuck you want, but if you don't get that gun away from my baby brother, I'm going to kick your ass and send it right to hell."
In response to this, the man just laughed, as if Dean had told a joke. "Now Dean, we both know you're all talk. I've been told that as long as I hold the keys to little Sammy's fate," he slowly began tracing the gun lovingly down Sam's face, causing him to flinch, and both Dad and Dean's faces turned into even more of a glare. Dad's hands were twitching, as if he wished to wrap them around the man's neck, "you'll do whatever I say." The man's voice had adopted a dangerous tone, causing goosebumps to form on Sam's arms. He needed to do something. Fast. He wasn't enjoying the whole damsel in distress part he'd been given, watching his family play the part of puppets just so he wouldn't get hurt. The thoughts in his head ran a mile a minute through all the positions his dad had taught him. By the time his mind scraped together a plan that might work, it had already failed.
Two men stepped out from behind cars close to them, holding handcuffs in their grips. "You're going to let my friends here handcuff you nice and tight now," the man drawled out, relaxed with the power he held over them, subconsciously loosening his grip on Sam ever so slightly. Sam decided that he wasn't going to wait any longer and took a deep breath in, stretching the man's arm out. Then he exhaled out sharply, going limp, allowing his body to fall through the gap the man's outstretched arm made. He quickly turned around, throwing his arm out, knocking the gun out of the man's hand. "you little fucker!" the man screamed, diving towards the gun the same time Sam did. Sam heard yelling behind him, hoping beyond hope that Dad and Dean started fighting the other two lackeys. He scrambled at the gun, his elbows getting scratched up by gravel, but Sam didn't care. His sole thought was to get the gun before this man did. Their hands fought over control of the gun, both trying to get the muzzle away from them. Sam wrestled control of the gun from the man, immediately pointing it at him. While in control, he scrambled up and stepped back out of the man's reach. He shot the man a smile. "Who's in control now, bitch?" The man laughed and nodded to something behind Sam. "I am." Sam spun around, the man forgotten, to find that Dad and Dean were unconscious.
Sam's heart jumped. How the hell did they beat Dad and Dean?! Sam thought. Dad and Dean were supposed to be indestructible, invincible, Dean was supposed to be batman. He started sprinting towards them, falling on his knees beside Dean, gun clattering next to him. Now that he was closer, he could see what brought them down so easily. Out of their necks was a tranquilizer dart. Sam's head shot up again, looking for the two men he had dismissed earlier, grabbing the gun and holding it up. Yet he was too late; he felt a sting on the back of his neck. He turned his head at the man and saw a swimming image of him holding a new gun in his direction. He hardly felt himself slam into the ground next to Dean, the world already fading into blackness, the man's laughter chasing him down.
"Sam."
Sam heard the voice as if through water. His whole head felt like it was scrambled, he couldn't place a coherent thought down, but his instincts told him to follow that voice.
"Sam, come on bro, you're scaring me here, wake up!"
His head finally put a name to the voice. Dean. Dean, brother, protector, friend. He groaned, a rising wave of nausea overtaking him.
"That's it Sam, work with me here."
He slowly lifted his head up, which suddenly felt fifty pounds heavier than it usually does. He cracked his eyes open, the cement block they were in spinning around.
"Dean?" God, his voice sounded hoarse. How long had he been out?
"Yep Sammy, it's Dean, you with us?"
Everything slowly got clearer by the minute, and the nausea seemed to fade away with every passing second. He could now register the ropes binding him to the chair, digging into his wrists as he tried to shift. He turned his head towards Dean, blinking to clear his sight.
"Did they drug you too, or do you have a concussion?" Sam looked at Dean, seeing how his green eyes were assessing every detail, from the bruise on his jaw to the gravel in his elbow.
"They drugged me, I don't think I have a concussion."
He heard Dean give a small sigh of relief and looked over his shoulder. Looking to his left, he saw his Dad sitting silent and stoic, the every present soldier rising in John to greet the situation.
"What happened, Sam?" John asked gruffly. Sam knew he was pissed he let someone get the drop on him so easily. Sam told his story and ended with a soft "I'm sorry, sir." John looked slightly bewildered. "Why are you sorry?" Now it was Sam's turn to be confused. "I...let them get the drop on me! This is all my fault." John's shoulders dropped and he sighed, "Don't be sorry, Sam, you shouldn't have let them get the drop on you, but I know this guy. He gets what he wants no matter what." "He even got the drop on us." Dean interjected, "none of this is your fault, Sam, alright? We just have to figure out how to get out of here."
Sam looked up from his chair to finally take in where they were at. There was a metal door directly in front of him, and a small window at the top corner of the cement box they were in. There was a table next to the door that looked like it would break if they put a textbook on it. Another metal table was in the center of the room. Homey, Sam thought. Dad's voice interjected his thoughts, "Dean, do you still have that knife in your boot?"
Sam watched as Dean moved his foot around in his shoe, waiting. Suddenly, the door slammed open. The man and his friends walked in, nearly drunk on how proud they were of catching the Winchester trio.
"Nice thought John, but while you were under I made sure all your weapons were off." His friend to the right dumped a bag of all their weapons onto the table. Sam glanced at Dad, saw the anger in his eyes.
"Brian?" His dad mumbled, eyes swiping to look over to the other friend to the left. "Will? Luke? What the fuck is going on? What do you three want?"
As Sam tore his gaze off his father and towards the trio of men, he could now see a resemblance he hadn't noticed that morning (yesterday? He couldn't remember). The three were all brothers.
The creepy man in charge, Luke, the one who looked like the eldest brother, stepped forward to address John. "You see John, we just aren't happy with how things have been going lately. You're a smart man, I think you can figure it out."
His Dad shook his head, "Is this about the hunt we went on a couple years ago? Luke, you know that wasn't my fault, nobody could have pre-"
Luke cut in, his calm demeanor turned vicious in a second, showing just how off the rails the man had become since this alleged hunt. "Oh, it wasn't your fault? It was all your fault!" Luke was nearly screaming, his brothers behind him standing stoically, their faces matching pictures of anger. Sam wondered what had happened to make these men so royally pissed off at them. Dean must have been wondering the same thing because he blurted out, "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Luke's head snapped to Dean, eyes bright with the fever of his rage. "What happened? I had heard good things about John Winchester and his hunting ability, so when girls around my town started getting abducted and things looked to be supernatural, I called in your father to come check it out with us. See, I had a young daughter myself, and I wanted to protect her. So I did everything John said, thinking he knew best, so when he suggested that we wait one more day to see if what we thought were witches made themselves known in the place we were staking out, I was all in. Your father was supposed to be one of the best damn hunters out there!
Yet that night, while we were sitting ducks in the woods, my daughter got kidnapped and used for some ritual by those bitches. She was mutilated, her one eye was taken out, there were runes carved all over her body! When I found out, I was devastated. Yet, John didn't even bother to come to her funeral. While my other daughter was wondering why she couldn't see her little sister for the last time in her casket, John went out and killed those witches. That was supposed to be me." At this point he was taking in sharp breaths, shaking in his anger, lost in his story. One of his brothers put a hand on his shoulder and Luke looked back at him, taking a deep breath. "John took my revenge on those witches. So I'm going to get my revenge on him."
Luke turned and strode towards the table where their weapons were deposited. He grabbed a sharp knife from the table and turned to look at John. "Luckily," He stated, "I have just the plan. You took a child from me, John. So I'm going to take a child from you."
Sam's heart stopped in his chest. This man was insane. He wasn't going to try and keep them for some stupid reason, to force them to do a hunt for him, or some other dumbass thing. He wanted to kill one of them while the others watched, letting them suffer just like he did. His breath hitched and he turned to look at Dean. Dean, fix this! He pleaded in his mind. Dean must've understood something from his look, because he turned to look at Luke. "Woah there, man, are you off the rails? You're really going to kill one of us because of a mistake? I'm sorry for your loss, I really am, but is this really going to make you feel better? Nothing is going to bring her back."
Luke just laughed at Dean. "That's where you're wrong, Deano. See there is an ancient ritual, a painful ritual, that might just work to bring my Addison back to me. It does, of course, require a sacrifice. Now, who, is the question." He started strolling over to where Sam and Dean were, brandishing the knife in his hand. Sam looked towards his Dad, where his father's face was a mixture of anger and fear. "They have nothing to do with this, Luke," his father growled out. "Take me instead."
"Dad, no!" Sam instinctively yelled out, he turned towards Luke, his fear getting the best of him. "Why can't you just leave us alone!" Why did his life have to be this way? He just wanted to go to school, have crushes on girls, and argue with his father about normal things, like sneaking out to go to parties. Now he was trapped in some dingy basement in some no-name town because his father had played it safe during a hunt and it went bad.
"Sam, calm down." Dean said, his eyes wide with fear. Sam realized his mistake when Luke turned to look at him for the first time since he had walked in. "Maybe it should be you, Sam," Luke drawled out. Sam's breath caught slightly, before he transformed his face into a glare. He wasn't going to give this man the satisfaction of knowing how scared he was. "Wouldn't that just break your Dad's heart. To know he couldn't save his helpless youngest." Dean, forgetting the advice he just gave to Sam, lunged forward in his chair, the ropes straining against his chest. "You touch one fucking hair on his head and I will rip your fucking lungs out." Dean sounded ferocious, the overprotective brother coming out of him in a tidal wave. "I'm the one you want, not him." Sam's fear shot up through his body like a shock. No, no, no, no, no, not Dean!
Luke seemed to consider the thought, ignoring John's pleas for Luke to use John for the sacrifice. "Hmm," he mumbled "I think I know what I'll do." He strode over to John, standing in front of him. John was silent for the first time in the past minute or so, and Luke took this opportunity to say, "I'm going to use Sam for the sacrifice-" "Damn you!" Dean yelled, his face white with fear, "He's only 15! Please, man, I'll get on my fucking knees and beg, just leave Sam alone." Dean's wide green eyes shone with unshed tears, staring at Luke.
Luke stared back at Dean, his face shifting from surprise to calm, knowing he was in control. "I wasn't finished, you didn't even hear the best part! After I'm done and Addison is risen, I'm going to kill you in front of your father, and then keep your father alive. He'll be forced to live with his guilt until he starves to death down here." He smiled and turned towards his brothers. "Bring it all in." His brothers left the room and returned seconds later with bowls, knives, and what looked like herbs and spices. They left the room a second time and returned with a bag.
A body bag.
Dean gagged, "Oh, dear God." He mumbled. He turned towards Sam, his green eyes seeking out Sam's hazel ones. "Sammy, listen, you're gonna be just fine, Dad and I are gonna figure something out, right, Dad?" Dean glanced up at his father, John staring right back. John swallowed hard, nodding. Sam could see his father's hand tugging at the knots in the rope, desperately trying to get them to give. As he turned towards Dean, he could see Dean doing the same thing. Sam twisted his wrists to try and get to his own ropes, chafing his wrists as he stretched them. He looked up to see one of the brothers, Brian, coming towards him. He squirmed even harder, but it was fruitless, Brian came over and started untying his ropes. Sam saw the other brother, Will, come over and stand in front of him, and put his arms on his shoulders, making sure he wouldn't run. Dean was screaming profanities at anyone who would listen, and his father was yelling at Luke, begging him to spare his children. The ropes came untied and desperately, Sam kicked out at Will's shin. Will grunted but took it in stride, delivering a sharp slap to Sam's face, grabbing his hair and pulling his face to his. "Listen here, boy," Will began, "You just need to be barely alive for this ritual to work, so you better not test me, ya hear?" Sam glared at Will, defiant to his core. His world went white as Will delivered another punch to his face. "Ya hear you little bitch?" Will cried.
"He understands, let him be!" Dean yelled at Will. Will released Sam's hair, grabbing him by the shoulders again and bringing him to his feet. Brian grabbed his ankles and he was in the air before he could say anything. Sam squirmed, desperate for some leeway to fight back, but was denied any hope as he was forcibly tied down to the metal table.
On the wooden table, Luke was preparing a bowl of herbs for the spell. He reached down into the body bag, slowly unzipping it and revealing its contents. Half - decomposed Addison's face seemed to stare into Sam's eyes. Sam gagged and turned his head. He saw one brother, Brian, leave the room, while the other stayed standing in front.
"Hey, Sammy, hey, look at me kid," Dean says, staring intently at Sam. "You'll be alright, I promise, okay? I promise." Sam nodded shakily before looking at their Dad. His face was in intense concentration, and Sam could see his hands working furiously at the rope while the three men were distracted. Suddenly, hands were on his forehead, shoving his head so that he was looking at the ceiling. A thick band went across his throat, nearly suffocating as to how tight it was. Luke's face appeared over his, "It's time to get started, Sammy."
He could hear Dean pleading again to take him first, to let Sam go, but Luke seemed to be oblivious to the other two prisoners. Luke moved a knife to Sam's wrist and made a deep cut. Sam hissed in pain, causing Dean and John to go frantic. Blood dripped from Sam's wrist into the bowl. Luke returned the bowl to the rickety table and returned to Sam's side. He grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through Sam's shirt, exposing him to the bitter cold air. He shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on his arms. He couldn't see a way out of this. Dad and Dean were tied up, Sam was on the table, and nobody knew where they were. He was snapped out of his reverie when a sharp blinding pain stung his torso. Luke had cut a thin line down the midline of his chest and stomach. Sam ground his jaw together, he wasn't going to give this psychopath the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting.
Yet, it seemed that Luke was getting his satisfaction from somewhere else. He kept looking up while he was cutting Sam's chest into the pattern of an ancient rune, starting directly at John. Sam could hear his Dad and Dean's pleas to make Luke stop, begging him.
"How does it feel, John?" Luke sneered. "How does it feel to know there is nothing you can do to save your child?" Sam couldn't see John, but he had been on the receiving end of his Dad's anger enough times to literally feel the anger flowing off him in rage. Sam had never angered his Dad this much, and he wondered if he ever would.
Sam wasn't able to catch what John said back to Luke, for the knife was getting nearer and nearer to his eye. The tip of the knife gently touched the tip of his eye near his temple.
"What do you say, John?" Luke said. "Should I take his eye, like those witches took Addison's?"
"Please, Luke, please! I'm begging you, I'll do whatever you want, just please, leave him alone!" Sam had never heard their Dad sound so scared in his life. Sam himself was terrified, but that wasn't anything new. The only time their Dad had sounded so scared for him was when Sam's flamethrower stopped working right when a wendigo started towards him. He had only heard Dad cry "Sam!" and then Dean torched it right before it clawed Sam into tatters. That night alone was enough to last Sam a lifetime of hunting, but his Dad had only insisted that they needed to buy new flamethrowers, and to train more in case something like that happened again. Now, he was stuck here, about to lose his life, all in the name of "saving people." His family was always saving people, why couldn't they be saved now?
Luke started easing pressure on the knife, and this time, Sam couldn't help but cry out, white and red flashed in front of his right eye. The knife dug deeper and Sam screamed. He heard the door bang open and an unfamiliar voice say, "Luke, we gotta get this ritual moving, I just heard on the police scanner, someone saw us at the motel and the police are looking for us."
The knife lifted from his eye and he saw Luke's head snap towards the direction of the door. "What?" he snarled. He turned back and looked down at Sam. "Keep a listen to that police scanner, Brian." Luke said. "I'll finish this up, and then we'll move places before we skin the other kid." Sam heard the door snap. He looked at Luke with his one eye, still unable to see in the other. He could feel tears spilling out of his uninjured eye, and felt nothing but pain in the other. "Please," he whispered. Luke just snorted and moved towards the spices.
"Now Sam," Luke said, "This is gonna hurt a bit." He sprinkled the spices onto the runes cut onto his chest, and Sam felt a tiny twinge. That didn't hurt, he thought, but then Luke started saying ancient latin. Sam was too out of it to understand exactly what he was saying, but with every word out of Luke's mouth, the pain increased on the cuts on his chest. He vision was going dark, he was gasping as it felt like the air was being drained out of his chest. This is it, he thought, my life force, my senses, they're going to Addison. His head was pounding, he couldn't feel anything, and someone was screaming, but he couldn't tell who. He was in the most pain he had ever been, but he couldn't voice it as his lungs gave out. He heard a bang and the pain lifted, but it was too late for Sam to appreciate it as everything went black for the second time.
When Sam came to, he wasn't quite sure if he was dead or alive. He didn't know for sure until he realized he could smell the bleach clean smell of a hospital, feel the scratchy blanket covering him, and could also feel the protective brother hand holding his. He didn't quite want to open his eyes yet, wasn't sure if he wanted to, so he tried to twitch his hands. It must have worked because he felt a jolt next to him, and suddenly the hand squeezed his and a voice said, "Sam?"
He slowly opened his eyes, well, he tried to at least. One eye worked, but the other seemed to be blocked. With his one eye, he squinted until he could see two faces peering down on him. One, his stoic father, the other, his freckled brother. "Wha-" his voice cracked and he cleared it. "What's wrong with my eye?" He questioned. "Am I blind?" Dean smiled a grim smile, "Fortunately you're not blind, but it's going to take forever to heal, Sammy. You're gonna be a pirate until further notice." Dean's hand swept up towards his face, and he could feel his hand smoothing out his hair. Sam then looked at his Dad. "What happened?" His dad smiled, an actual, genuine, smile. "The police actually found us, how about that?" Sam saw Dean fall back on his chair and launch into the story.
"Right when you were, um, you were passing out, Addison started moving and breathing, and it was the freakiest shit, I'm telling you." Dean started. "Then, the police banged into the door and started pointing their guns everywhere and shit, screaming about getting on the ground, and it stopped Luke. I guess you have to do the whole thing in one shot because right when he stopped talking, you started gasping like a fish out of water. They arrested those bastards and then they cut us loose, but we couldn't see you because the paramedics had come and were already all over you. You needed, like, a thousand stitches, and you're gonna be benched for a while, but you're gonna be okay." Dad nodded and put his hand on my shoulder. "You did good, Sam. You held through. I'm proud of you." Sam looked up at his Dad. He nearly quipped about how almost dying was the only thing to warrant his Dad being proud of him, but Dean immediately swept into a story about how a hot nurse, Kendra, was taking care of him. "I mean, I know you're not too, too into girls right now, but man, when you see her, you'll be faking injuries to get her to come in here. I wanted to fake a heart attack, but Dad wouldn't let me." Dad snorted, and then Sam laughed, even though the joke wasn't even that funny. The roller coaster of the past couple days was getting to them, but in the end, they were together. Sam was with his dysfunctional family, and he wouldn't have it any other way.