A/N: With my one track mind I forgot to thank a very important person. My beta, Irish Anor. Betas are very helpful and I would recommend that everyone get one. They're well worth it. Enjoy the chapter.
I lied about finding out what's going on this chapter. It's gonna take a few more. Sorry...I love you all.
See first chapter for disclaimer.
Warning: Violence and slight language, but nothing too bad.
My Brother's Keeper
The moment you all have been waiting for! Drum roll please...
Chapter 6: Welcome Home
John put the Impala into park and cut the engine. He fought the urge to stay in the car and just sit for a moment. Resting for a bit sounded good, but it wasn't the time for that. Something was wrong, he was sure of it.
Something in him had ignored Dean's words on the phone and had focused on Sam's voice. Sam was stubborn, much like John himself. The younger boy rarely asked for help, especially from his father. Sam was scared, and that scared the older Winchester. He hated hearing fear in his boys' voices. Sam's was the worst, though. It just killed John to hear his little Sammy afraid--not when he could help it.
The older hunter hoped like hell that he was wrong. All he wanted was to walk into the house and find that his sons had everything under control. It would make him feel a little foolish for rushing home when he had told Dean he was staying in town, but he would prefer that over finding the boys in over their heads. He had complete faith in Dean, but even the great John Winchester needed help every now and then. Hopefully that wasn't the case this time and Sam was just over reacting on the phone.
Dropping his bags by the door, John's attention was pulled towards the living room. He could just hear the soft sounds that didn't belong in a normal house, or their house for that matter. He slowly walked to the doorway, but stopped dead in his tracks. This was not something he would have imagined finding. He froze for seconds, but looking back it had seemed like hours.
Shaking himself, John rushed to the aid of his youngest son. He jumped onto the table while hooking an arm around Sam's waist, pulling him up and back onto the trembling surface. He shook the boy, trying to wake him, but with no luck. Unable to rouse him, the father was forced to keep one arm supporting the teenager while cutting the rope with the other. It took longer than he would have liked, but soon enough John was slowly lowering Sam onto the floor.
John quickly loosened the noose and whipped it away. He patted the boy's cheek, gently at first, but then harder, "Sammy? Sam!"
The pitiful moan that came through Sam's lips was quite possibly one of the most beautiful things his father had ever witnessed. His fluttering eyelids took a close second.
"Sammy, are you with me?"
Sam groaned as consciousness came back to him. There was someone talking to him, calling his name. Was the afterlife supposed to be this annoying? It all came rushing back when he opened his eyes and started coughing. He remembered now why his body hurt so much and why he wasn't supposed to be feeling anything right now. Had Dean come back?
"Sam?"
That wasn't Dean. "Dad?" he was able to squeeze through his aching throat as soon as the coughing subsided.
John winced at the raspy sound but appreciated it none-the-less. He put a hand on the side of Sam's face when the boy's focus started to waver, "Sammy look at me. Do you think you can move?"
"Dunno."
"I'm gonna help you up, okay." John didn't wait for an answer, not expecting his son to be able to give him much help. He slowly pulled him up into a sitting position and cut the ropes around his wrists. He supported him through the short walk to the couch and laid him down. He sat down on the edge and looked his son over for the first time. His anger bubbled at what he found.
Sam's face was covered in bruises and his bottom lip had split open. John could feel numerous bumps along the back and front of his son's skull. Moving down towards the bare chest he could see the rapidly forming bruises around his throat. More purple and blue marks were on his right shoulder and down his arms to meet the cuts and abrasions around his wrists. But it was his side and chest that stood out the most. After unwrapping it John found dark bruises fanning out from the boy's side, hiding how much internal damage, he didn't know.
John put a hand on the Sam's forehead as the teenager's breath hitched painfully. He gave him a moment before asking, "Sammy, did the spirit do this?"
Sam weakly shook his head.
"What did." The answer was another shock.
"Dean." Sam said, his voice shaking. He continued, "He's not himself. Something's wrong!"
"He did this?"
Sam nodded. He repeated, "He's not himself."
"How long."
"After you left."
"Right after I left?" At Sam's nod, "He didn't leave the house at all in between?"
"No."
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know. He left."
"Okay." John said, intending to end the conversation for now. He could see that Sam wasn't up to it and he needed to be tended to. They could deal with Dean later. Sam had other ideas.
"You need to find him!"
"I will, later."
"No, now!"
"Sam-"
"What if it makes him do something stupid? We can't just leave him out there!"
"And I can't leave you here! Not like this. I'll find him, but I need to take care of you first. Okay?" John said. He was stating more than asking. They both knew the decision was final.
"'Kay." Sam answered, letting the subject drop. He was just relieved to finally be able to let go and leave it in his father's capable hands. Everything would be okay now.
TBC
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic, so please be gentle. Criticisms are welcome, but please no flames. Tell me what ya all think.
