Chapter 2
Saturday was always the busiest night of the week wherever the carnival was located. Parents, usually at work in the daytime, were eager to bring their children, young college students wanted to impress their dates and there was always a holiday atmosphere about the place as no one had to be up for work the next morning.
Dean prepared for his fights as usual. Jogging in the morning to remove the fug of alcohol and fast food, weights in the afternoon to build up muscle and a light salad (which he hated) for lunch. He usually forced this down him, knowing that after the fight he could have a burger and beer. Today though, he felt uneasy and he couldn't pin down the feeling. It had been a while since he hunted, but he still had his old instincts and he could sense something coming his way, something that wasn't pleasant.
That night the booth was filled to bursting, with Jim allowing some of the punters to stand. Dean could see that his 'challenger' was already in the ring and he heard the rumble of Jim's voice as he announced the name. He never took much notice of who he was fighting; usually it was college kids like the one yesterday or some drunken guy trying to impress a chick. Once or twice he'd met a hard one, but he'd always come out on top. He heard his own name being called and the music that announced him being played and he sprang into life. Moving down the aisles, he could feel the vibration of the crowd through to his toes. They were loud tonight, stamping, yelling. Maybe his challenger was going to be tough this time, fuck, he could do with some real competition.
He climbed into the ring and grinned at Jim who winked back "Toe the line" he cried and Dean moved to the centre of the booth, lifting his arms above his head, coming face to face with his challenger. As their eyes met, Dean's stomach clenched and he felt as if he had been hit hard in the gut, before any punch had been thrown.
The man was taller than him by at least four inches and slender. His body was finely muscled and Dean could see the indents and scars across his flesh. There was no mistaking the hair either, a little longer, a lot shaggier, but still brown and still messy, bangs almost obscuring the man's eyes which gazed at him, void of any emotion. The mouth curved a little, dimpling one cheek and Dean saw the glint of gold in one ear as his challenger cocked his head to one side, taking in every aspect of what he saw.
"Sam" Dean wasn't even sure he had spoken aloud, but his younger brother didn't acknowledge him. He stepped back, his heart thumping, unable to comprehend. "Jim, I can't do this, I can't fight him" he was aware of his voice sounding panicked and he hated it, hated to show weakness at such a time. Jim looked horrified and shook his head.
"You have to" he let the mike go and stepped back to ring the bell for the first round and Dean found himself gazing across the ring at the brother he hadn't seen for over four years.
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Sam was quickest of the mark and he flung a punch solidly at Dean's head; the older man checked back for a minute and ducked, the punch falling ineffectually short. Dean could see that Sam meant to do this and he felt a sudden rush of anger, flinging his fist at Sam's gut, trying to get the taller man to duck his head. Even as he flung the punch, he knew it wasn't going to connect. There was some sort of force field around his brother, acting as a barrier. He saw Sam smile slightly "Missed me?"
Goddamn it, Sam had spoken to him, he had spoken to him without even opening his fucking mouth. He realised that the words inside his head had a doubled edged meaning and he found himself back against the ropes as his brother moved forward, his knuckles catching Dean hard against the jaw and knocking him back.
The crowd roared, seeing that this fight was turning more than a little nasty. Dean felt the blood forming in his mouth and he spat hard on the canvas of the ring. Thoughts rushed through his head 'Why Sam? Why now?" How had his brother finally found him? Why was he so intent on knocking seven bells of hell out of him? The rush of anger he had felt earlier become a tide and he bounced back off the ropes, fists failing. For a moment they failed to connect again and then, as if a switch had been flicked, he felt his clenched hand sink into Sam's gut. His brother went down and Dean ceased to think. He just hit, over and over, red rage and long pent up emotions spilling out of him and into his brother's flesh. He was aware of the crowd, their noise level rising with each punch and then he felt Jim pulling at him, hands sliding across his sweat drenched body
"Enough son, enough, you're gonna kill him"
He felt his anger subsiding and he leant against Jim's solid body. He was aware of the crowd, suddenly silent and he gazed down at his brother, laying still and quiet on the canvas.
"I think we are going to need an ambulance" Jim murmured and Dean threw up, the contents of his hated lunch time salad hitting the canvas just about the time that he did.
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They hadn't let him ride in the ambulance and he had a hell of a time at the hospital explaining that he was the patient's brother. Finally, they had let him into Sam's room, with promises to be quiet and not upset the young man who was still very weak and needed rest. He had two broken ribs, they explained, and bruised kidneys. He might also have a minor concussion and they would need to monitor it. Dean nodded, hardly able to believe that he was once again in a hospital ward, looking out for his little brother, looking out for Sammy.
Sam looked up as he entered and smiled weakly. Lying in the bed, IV in his hand, long hair brushed back off his face, Sam looked more like his little brother again. Dean stared at him, hard. He had been twenty two when Dean had snatched him from his 'normal' life at Stanford and still, in Dean's eyes at least, a chubby faced twelve years old. Now, he was approaching thirty and looked older, tired. Dean sat down on the chair next to the bed and watched the heart monitor, the drip, hell anything but Sam.
"I'm sorry Dean" Sam's voice was quiet "I guess that wasn't the best way to say Hi"
"How did you find me?" Dean found himself studying the intricacies of the hospital quilt
"I've become an expert at finding things that are lost Dean" Sam snorted with weak laughter
"I thought you were at Stanford – hell – I thought you'd at least have your own law firm by now" Dean pulled at a bit of loose cotton and flicked his thumb over it "You know – what you always wanted"
"I left" Sam's voice grew even fainter and Dean felt forced to lean in, to listen "I dropped out after the second semester"
"Why? Why Sam? Couldn't you hack it?"
"Watch" Sam's hand came out and grabbed Dean's shoulder "I'm feeling a little weak dude, so this might not work so well"
There was a glass of water on the table in the corner of the room. Dean followed Sam's gaze and looked at the glass. For a moment there was silence and then the glass rose, wobbling, and moved, as if by its own violation and landed in Sam's outstretched hand.
"Jesus, Sam" Dean stared at the glass and at Sam "That's why I couldn't hit you earlier"
"Killing the demon didn't kill my 'gifts' Dean" Sam sounded suddenly bitter and Dean was forced to look at his brother for the first time "They just got worse – stronger – I tried to ignore it at first – I mean if you don't need to move an object – don't, but that wasn't the worst of it"
"Sam" Dean moved his hand and laid it over his brothers
"I was in a coffee shop, between lectures, and I saw this lady with her little girl. The little girl was smiling at me and I smiled back. When the lady got up to leave I mentioned what a cute daughter she had" Sam swallowed "She told me her daughter was missing, had been for two years, she was missing believed dead Dean and I saw her"
"What happened?"
"I saw her daughter, she was smiling at me, she mouthed these words – water, bridge, and bottom. It didn't make sense, but I told the lady anyway. The police found that little girl at the bottom of the Golden Gate Bridge, Dean, she'd drowned" Sam couldn't suppress a shudder "After that it was like all hell let loose, police, parents with missing kids, people with issues, they all descended on me, they all wanted something from me. I couldn't handle it, so I left Stanford and I...I started hunting again. It was so much easier, I could sense the things, see them, made them easy to catch" he stared at Dean, his hazel eyes empty and sad "But that didn't take away the visions…have you any idea Dean? What it's like to see a murdered child, looking for it's parents, wanting to go home" Sam choked back a sob "I've been so alone Dean, the only one who ever could really understand me was you and you didn't want to know me" his breath hitched and Dean could tell he was biting back tears "I'm sorry I left you again Dean"
Dean couldn't speak. He'd got even better at hiding his emotions over the years and he realised that he'd wrapped himself up so tight that nothing had been able to get through. Sitting here, holding Sammy's hand, being a big brother again, he realised just how much he had missed, how much his pride had cost him.
"I'm sorry to Sam, I should have called, returned your letters, I, I was an ass"
"I understood how you felt" Sam looked pale, tired "I screwed up Dean, I wanted to be normal and now I know I can't"
"Why now? Why did you come and find me now?" Dean squeezed his brother's fingers
"You were a little hard to trace – always moving. Then a couple of days ago I was passing through and I felt you" Sam smiled "I came looking for you and found the booth. I knew you wouldn't talk to me if I approached you, so I decided to make you sit up and notice me – hell of a fight there Dean"
"I could have killed you"
"No matter – I, I came to say goodbye anyhow"
"SAM" Dean shot up, realising that he was yelling "What are you saying Sam? Are you telling me you want to die?"
"I can't live like this any longer Dean" his brother sounded weak, exhausted, at the end of the road "I don't want to"
"Sammy" Dean leant over his brother's bed "Sammy – don't, don't. Look Sammy I'm going to have to go back to my trailer for a little while, but I'll be back ok – you'll be alright here Sammy – don't do anything – swear to me – don't do anything till I get back ok"
Sam sat for a moment, then he smiled, a shadow of his former smile, but a smile never the less.
"Ok Dean, hell, it's been over four years bro, I guess I can do without you for a few more hours"
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