Strike Three...

Summary: Sam is having trouble dealing with the powers that were bestowed on him. Dean tries to help, but seems to be hurting Sam more than helping him. Finally Sam has enough of Dean's shit, and takes off to clear his head. Little does he know that what dad always taught him, should have come in handy, he should have paid attention to what goes bump in the night.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Jensen Ackles, or Jared Padelecki... I own the plot, but I make no money on this story, only pleasure in my sadistic ways.

Warning: There is violence, and this story has self-harm... If you do not like, please don't read! For those who can handle this story, please review and tell me what you think.


Chapter 7: The Calm Before The Storm

Dean, leaning on his father, walked into Sam's room, only minutes after the doctor had told them that he was going to be alright, when he woke up. There was only one problem with the fact that the doctor had told them; Sam had hit his head pretty hard, and the doctors didn't know when he would wake up, it could be minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months before Sam woke, and Dean just hoped that Sam wouldn't go for a big impression and opt for months.

Dean and John walked over by Sam, and John helped Dean sit in the chair that was by Sam's bed. He grabbed his brother's cool hand, and reached up with his broken wrist to stroke the strands of hair that had fallen into Sam's face away. Sam was pale, and now that Dean was looking, he could see the dark circles under his brother's eyes.

John laid his hand on Dean's shoulder, and motioned towards Sam's arm, and Dean sighed knowing what he meant. Dean carefully turned Sam's wrist towards them, showing the crisscrossing marks marring the pale skin. John's face hardened and Dean knew that though he wasn't mad at Sam, he was mad, and he hoped that Sam didn't wake up right now so that he didn't see their father's face. Sam had enough problems at the moment, and he didn't need to think that their father was angry at him.

"Don't let Sammy see your anger Dad." Dean's voice was low, a warning, but to any normal person it would just sound like he was trying to state a simple fact.

Dean felt his father move, and he looked up to see John look at him. "I'm not mad at Sammy, and don't worry, he won't see it, but I am angry." John's voice was hard, and Dean felt the hand in his stiffen, and realized that Sam had heard what their father had said, or at least part of it.

"'M sorry," Sam mumbled, and turned his head away from them, tears glistening in the sleep murky eyes. Dean felt Sam try to pull away and held his hand steadily.

"Sam?" Dean tried and when his brother didn't acknowledge him Dean said, "Sammy look at me." Sam turned to him, and Dean felt his chest tighten at the sight of the tears and fear in his brother's eyes. "Sammy, we're not mad at you-" Dean started, but Sam interrupted him.

"You don't have to baby me Dean, I know you want to leave. It's okay, everyone leaves, I'm used to it, so don't try to let me off easy, I can take it." Sam's voice sounded so young and Dean's chest tightened a little more.

"Sammy, no, I don't want to leave, where did you get that idea?" Dean asked, and Sam looked shocked at the news.

"But the shape-shifter said... And then I shot you at the asylum, and you are always saving me. Why would you want to stay anywhere near me; I'm such a screw up, I even led you into May's trap, God how could I be so stupid, it's a wonder you're still here." Sam whispered and Dean felt the hand on his shoulder clench. He looked up to see his father, almost in tears; and realized that the man probably felt that Sam's problem was his fault.

"Sammy," his father's voice was soft, and sounded so concerned and full of fear; that one word filled with so much emotion, that Sam looked up at him with worry. "You are not a screw up, and your definitely not stupid. You know Shape-Shifters lie, and Dean told me about the Asylum, it wasn't your fault, the man was screwing with your head; and as for May, you couldn't have known that it was a trap; you were just doing what you were taught." John had moved to Sam's other side while talking; and was gripping his hand warmly; knowing that Sam needed him, and he wasn't about to let his son down; not after he had done it so much already.

"But, it's my fault that mom and Jessica are dead, how could you want to be near a murderer?" Sam asked, his voice sincere and John felt his heart clench tightly in his chest.

"Sam, you are not a murderer! Your mother loved you, and wanted to protect, her death was no one's fault but the demon who killed her. As for Jessica she loved you too, and you weren't even there when the demon got her." John's voice was strong, and he put all of his belief into them, but still Sam looked skeptical.

"But I knew that she was going to die. I dreamt about her death for days before it happened. I should have been there, I could have stopped it, she should still be alive, I could have stopped it, it should have been me!" Tears spilled down Sam cheeks and his shoulders shook. John pulled his son to him, and hugged him tightly.

Sam's body shook with sobs, and John just tightened his grip when the sobs got stronger. "Sam, it's okay, you couldn't have stopped it, and no it shouldn't have been you." Sam's shoulders shook in his arms, and Sam had his arms wrapped around his body tightly, pinned in between the two of them. "Shh, Sammy; it'll be okay, we'll get through this, and we will kill the son of a bitch that killed Jessica and your mother; you hear me?" John asked, but Sam didn't answer, the sobs still shaking through him.

John held Sam through the sobs, even when he still shook, but no tears would accompany the spasms. He looked over to Dean while holding Sam, and saw that his oldest had fallen asleep, the pain and fatigue he felt finally getting to be too much. Sam finally stopped and John looked down to see that his youngest had fallen asleep. He smiled sadly remembering the last time he had held Sam until he had fallen asleep.


"Daddy?" A small voice came from the doorway. John looked up to see a six year old Sam standing in the doorway looking at him, fear etched into his face and eyes.

"What is it Sammy?" John asked as he walked over to his son.

"Daddy, there's something in my closet." Sam's voice had been full of fear and John could see the small boy shaking.

John had sat Sam down in his bed and gave him a gun while he went to check out his room. The spirit that had been in Sam's closet was long gone when John had entered the room, and he sighed, knowing that they would have to do an exorcism on the house before leaving again.

John walked back to his room, and saw Sam sitting in the same place he had left him, the gun looking huge in his small hands. He walked over to Sam, and took the gun from the scared boy. "Sammy, the things gone, you can go back to your room now." John had said, taking the boy's hand.

Sam had shook his head fearfully, eyes wide; "Can I stay with you tonight Daddy?" Sam asked, his eyes still wide and John hadn't had the heart to tell the boy no.

"Okay Sammy, but this is the last time okay?" Sam had nodded, and John sighed, taking the boy into his arms, and holding him until he fell asleep, after whispering a small, "I love you daddy," and then drifting off himself a few moments later, with an, "I love you too Sammy."


Sam had gone to Dean whenever he had nightmares or there was something that had scared him after that; he had never gone back to John, keeping his word. Now looking down at the man in his arms, he almost wished that he had never told Sammy not to come to him, if only he had been more open to the boy, he might not be so self destructive now.


Gavin watched the scene from outside the room, and laughed to himself. All three of the Winchesters were so guilt ridden, he could just live off of them. If he fed from them, he would be sustained for years to come, and the thought excited him. He knew he had to wait to go after them, and get them alone, but it was so hard for him to wait, when they were right there and so full of guilt...

'Soon,' he thought, looking them over, but especially at Sam, 'Soon I will have you, and your won't know what hit you...'


A/N: So what did you think? Please review!