Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
Warnings: Mild violence/language.
Author's Note: Remember when Tim and Reggie tried to force-feed Sam demon blood in 5x03? I do, and I needed this resolved, so here we are! This story takes place during 12x06 but references events from 5x03. Some of the events that take place in 12x06 are altered slightly for this story. Happy reading!
Sam wondered for a brief moment on the drive to Asa's funeral why their father had always said hunter gatherings were bad news. After all, he was getting along with the twins alright. The other hunters seemed nice enough. Sure, there were some prying questions, but that came with the name "Winchester." It wasn't until two people whom Sam hadn't seen in about six years walked through the door that he realized what his father had meant.
Tim and Reggie had aged, but not exactly for the better. They looked rougher, more ragged, like the job had really worn them down over the years. Sam could see a few scars along each of their faces and arms that hadn't been there before. Then again, it was hard to pick up different scars when one was more focused on trying to avoid being force-fed demon blood.
Sam's immediate instinct was to scan the room for Dean, but his brother was nowhere to be found. It didn't matter anyway. Dean didn't know their history, or how close Tim and Reggie had come to making Sam relapse and go through the entire detoxing process again.
"Excuse me," said Sam to the twins, who he'd been chatting with again. Sam's plan was to slip out of the room undetected and then think of the next best step, but once he stood up Sam found himself accidentally locking eyes with the pair. Both of their sorrowful expressions filled with anger in mere moments.
Where the hell was Dean, anyway?
Sam broke eye contact and slipped into the hallway. There he spotted Dean in the kitchen, listening to Bucky's stories of Asa. His hand was placed on Jody's shoulder, who was smiling sadly at the tale.
Sam couldn't pull Dean away, not when Jody needed him much more than Sam did. Besides, Tim and Reggie were his baggage, not Dean's. He didn't need to drag Dean into his mess.
Sam opted to walk upstairs, hoping that Tim and Reggie had no desire to create a scene at a fellow hunter's funeral. He traveled down various hallways as he mulled over the events that had occurred six years ago to make him so weary of Tim and Reggie. They had tried to force-feed Sam demon blood, a crime that he couldn't forgive, especially since it occurred right after letting Lucifer out. What was worse, they'd kidnapped an innocent girl to do it.
A couple minutes had passed when Sam figured if Tim and Reggie were going to do something about Sam's presence, they would have done it already. Sam was about to head back downstairs when he turned a corner and found himself being slammed into a wall. Tim's forearm was pinning Sam against it.
"Well, it's sure been a long time since we've seen you, Sammy," spat Tim.
"Too long," added Reggie, who was standing behind Tim and fiddling with a dagger.
"Really? Cause I've gotta say, I didn't miss you at all," breathed Sam, adopting some of his brother's bravado into his tone.
"Real cute," said Reggie.
"You know, I still owe you for Steve," growled Tim.
Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure I'm the one that owes you. You still don't think what you tried to do to me and kidnapping an innocent girl to do it crossed the lines?"
"Lines blur, Sammy," replied Tim.
"It's Sam, jackass."
"Woah, that's a little rude," chided Reggie.
"I think we ought to teach him a lesson," agreed Tim.
Sam gave them both a look of pure judgement. "Great plan, guys. Go ahead and kill me with that dagger. That won't raise any suspicion to a house full of hunters, a body and blood on the floor. Not to mention the fact that Dean is down there, and I promise you he will make you wish you'd never met me if he comes up here and finds me dead. All of this is assuming that I don't come out on top as well, when I've already proven I can take both of you."
Tim and Reggie shared a look that was brimming with arrogance. "Nice little speech," nodded Tim. "But we're not interested in killing you."
"We just wanna finish what we've started," grinned Reggie, pulling a flask filled with blood from his coat pocket. Sam didn't even have to ask who it used to belong to; he knew it was demon blood. "Been carrying it around in case we ever ran into you again."
Sam forced himself to laugh despite his heartrate picking up speed. "Sorry to break it to you, but I haven't had powers in years. That crap won't do anything to me."
But the fact was, Sam had no clue what demon blood would do to him nowadays. He had felt himself being purified through the trials, but he'd never finished them, so Sam guessed he still had the same stuff running through his veins as he always had. Tim and Reggie didn't need to know that, though, nor how Sam's fear was slowly increasing; he couldn't become that thing again. He couldn't handle the way Dean would look at him if he did.
For a moment, the two hunters actually looked put off, and Sam thought they were going to back down before Tim said, "Doesn't change anything. If it doesn't work, then we'll know. But you know what I think?" he asked, his glare battling Sam's. "I think once a monster, always a monster."
Sam saw what was coming, and he didn't wait for them to make the first move. Sam swept his leg underneath Tim so that he fell backwards. Reggie moved forward and slashed at Sam with his dagger. He caught Sam on his forearm, who grunted as he punched Reggie in the face. He toppled back into Tim, and they both stared up at Sam from the floor.
"Stay away from me for the rest of the night. This is a damn funeral. Act like it," Sam growled, and he stalked back downstairs and into the bathroom, locking the door so he could examine his arm. The cut wasn't deep, but it was bleeding freely. Sam rinsed the cut in water, found some rubbing alcohol in the bathroom cabinet that he grudgingly applied, wrapped a bandana around the cut, and pulled his sleeve over it; the only noticeable thing about the fight now was the tear in Sam's shirt.
As much as Sam hoped that Tim and Reggie heeded his words to respect the fact that they were attending Asa's funeral, he doubted his words would have any lasting impact on the duo; they'd held a grudge for six years, so clearly one night of Sam putting them back in their place wasn't going to deter them. But Sam couldn't hide out in the bathroom forever, so he cleaned up the bloody countertop and exited back into the crowd. Tim and Reggie weren't in sight, and Sam didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Sam decided to search for his brother, whom he found still standing in the kitchen; Sam was shocked to find that Bucky was still going with the same story, but everyone, even Dean, seemed interested.
Bucky had just wrapped up the tale (gaining a toast to Asa's life for his efforts) as Sam came up beside Dean and Jody.
"Hey, stranger. Where'd you wander off to?" asked Jody.
"Just . . . getting to know people," shrugged Sam as if he hadn't almost been force-fed demon blood for the second time by the same duo.
"Ah, Sammy, ever the social butterfly," grinned Dean, making Jody smile. Sam forced a small smile, turning to check over his shoulder for the reappearance of Tim and Reggie.
"What happened to your sleeve?" asked Dean, who'd clearly seen the tear when Sam turned around.
"Oh – huh, I don't know," lied Sam. "Must've been like that before and I didn't notice."
Dean shrugged and drained the last of his beer, giving Sam an opportunity to yank the sleeve more fully over the blue bandana under it.
"How are you holding up?" Sam asked Jody. She sighed, the same sad smile still on her face.
"Hanging in there," she told him as Dean went to the cooler to grab another beer. "Thanks again for coming."
"Of course, you know we'd do anything—"
"Son of a gun, it's Dean Winchester," cut in a familiar voice that made Sam tense once again. Tim was back, Reggie in tow, looking rather unharmed after their fight. Sam naturally expected Dean to sense the same uneasy feeling he'd gotten half an hour ago, but his response was surprising.
"I don't believe it. Tim and Reggie," Dean put his new beer down, grinned, and shook hands with both hunters, neither showing signs that they'd just attacked Sam. "I haven't seen you in – hell, must be twelve years now."
"Something like that, yeah," nodded Reggie, wearing the same fake smile as Tim.
"Hey Sammy, you know these guys saved my life back when you were at Stanford," Dean told Sam. "Dad's too."
"Unbelievable," Sam muttered, but Dean was too distracted trading pleasantries with Tim and Reggie to pick up on the double meaning.
"You went to Stanford?" Jody raised her eyebrows.
Sam nodded, unable to take his eyes off the tragedy of the new trio of friends. "Long story."
"You have a lot of long stories, Winchester," Jody said. She looked between Sam and Dean, who'd quickly struck up conversation with Tim and Reggie. "I'm guessing the way you're looking at those three is another one?"
"What?" said Sam, who'd been in a daze. "Oh, yeah . . . long story."
Jody nodded in understanding, then pulled Sam out of the room, noticing that he needed to get away from Dean's new pals.
The funeral was starting to wind down, guests were leaving, and Sam was attempting not to bash his head into a wall as he listened to Dean, Tim, and Reggie catching up in the other room.
"You gonna tell me about the love lost between you and them?" Jody asked Sam.
"It's complicated. And messy."
"What isn't in this life."
"I'm serious. They – they got me at a time where I was a completely different person, I made a mistake that got their buddy killed, and now I'm paying for that in a much darker way than I can tell you."
Jody was silent for a few moments before saying, "If you want me to beat 'em up, all you have to do is ask."
Sam smiled the first genuine smile of the night. "I'll keep that in mind, but I think I've got them covered. I just had no idea how close they were with Dean."
Jody gave Sam a look. "Sam, if Dean had to choose between anyone and you, he'd choose you every time. If these guys hurt you – are hurting you – you don't have to question who's side he'll take, even if you think the blame is shared."
Sam nodded. "I know."
Sam had decided to get some fresh air and was standing in the backyard, listening to the crickets. It was a clear night, and the stars were visible for miles. It reminded Sam of the stargazing he and Dean used to do. Sam figured they'd just been busy recently, but they hadn't done that in years.
Sam wasn't facing the door, but he could sense another presence behind him. "Round two?" he said into the night. He turned to face Tim and Reggie. "Where's Dean?"
"Gone to speak with Jody," answered Reggie, "at the front of the house."
Sam didn't want to fight. He didn't want his past to come up like this. But he also didn't want Tim and Reggie to think it was okay to threaten him with demon blood. That was the part that infuriated Sam.
"Doesn't matter where big bro is," said Tim, he and Reggie moving closer to Sam. "He wouldn't help you anyway. The way I see it, we're doing him a favor. Getting rid of the monster he's forced to call family."
"I thought your plan was to dose me up," said Sam cautiously, slowly reaching for the knife in his pocket.
"It is," said Reggie. "But then what would we do? All we have then is a supernatural freak with the juice to throw us around like ragdolls."
"So we'll be forced to kill you," Tim told Sam as if he thought it an unfortunate thing. Tim pulled out a gun at lightning speed and pointed it at Sam. "Everyone will understand. We were just putting another freak down. Dean'll get over it once he realizes you were high on the blood."
Reggie was laughing now, staring at the item in Sam's hand. "Look what we have. An idiot who brought a knife to a gun fight." Reggie pulled the flask out again, this time uncapping it. "Drink up or Tim's gonna fill your legs full of led."
Sam didn't know what to do. He wouldn't drink the blood; he'd rather die. But he wasn't fond of that idea, either. They'd just gotten Mary back. Sam felt like he was in a place where he could truly have his family together, and he didn't want his past jeopardizing that.
"Listen," said Sam, "I'm sorry about Steve, I really am. But all this, it won't bring him back. Revenge never solves anything; I've learned that the hard way."
"Why don't you let the humans decide how revenge helps us," spat Tim. "Toss the blade away from you." Tim cocked the gun.
"You shoot me, and Dean'll hear it."
"We'll see whose quicker then; me or him. Ten bucks says I can make you swallow that blood before he even reaches the back door. Now drop the blade."
Sam grimaced, but upon realizing that Tim had the upper hand, he tossed his only weapon. Reggie advanced on him immediately, pushing Sam into a tree and holding a knife to his throat.
"Ten bucks says Dean's faster," snarled Sam, kicking Reggie away from him. Sam heard a gunshot and registered white-hot pain in his left leg, but Reggie was back on his feet in an instant and coming at him with the blood again. Sam wouldn't drink it. Never again.
"Damn it, help me!" snapped Reggie, who was struggling to pin Sam down. Suddenly Tim was on top of Sam too, and they'd just managed to reposition the knife to Sam's throat when another voice joined.
Knew he'd beat you.
"What the hell is going on here?" asked Dean. Then upon seeing the knife at Sam's throat, Dean drew his own gun and growled, "You better get the hell away from my brother."
Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the still-cocky Tim, who didn't appear to have any desire to back down despite the gun aimed at his face. "Come on Dean, this is your chance. Look man, you don't even have to do the deed yourself. We'll take care of it, and you can just say you found his body later."
Dean's glare was so powerful that Sam would be shaken if it was directed toward him. "Let me get this straight. You idiots actually think I'm gonna stand here and watch as you murder my little brother?"
"He's not your brother, he's a monster," grunted Reggie, one hand still holding the knife to Sam's throat and the other raising above his head to show Dean the flask filled with demon blood. Just as Sam expected, Dean's expression shifted to one filled with apprehension.
"The hell is that?" he muttered, though Sam could tell he knew. Sam cringed away from the stuff, trying to wiggle out of the hunters' grasp, but he felt the sharp prick of Reggie's knife sliding into his throat, and he knew that moving any more would result in a cut.
"Stay still, Sammy, it's gonna be okay," Dean commanded quickly, locking eyes with Sam. Dean knew how bad demon blood was when it came in contact with Sam. But he also knew that he couldn't lose his brother, so he just needed Sam to stay alive while he thought of a plan.
"Way to lie to him," smirked Reggie.
"I'm not lying," Dean shot back, filled with confidence.
"Let's cut to the chase, shall we, Dean?" said Tim, his voice bored. "Sammy here is a blood-sucking monster—"
"I haven't touched that crap in five years—"
"—and needs to be put down because that's our job, and the sooner you accept that the better."
"What, your job is to kill innocent people – good people?" demanded Dean.
"My job is to kill anything not human, which clearly includes your brother."
"He's a hell of a lot more human that you."
"Really? Because I'm pretty sure if he were human, he wouldn't have killed my best friend," shot back Tim.
"That's not what happened, and you know it!" shouted Sam.
"It's close enough!" snapped Reggie. "Between what happened to Steve and your unholy cravings, I've seen demons with better natures than you."
That one stung Sam, and Dean could tell.
"Hey, that's enough!" he yelled, jerking the gun to point at their heads instead of their chests. "Let him go, now, or I swear I'll blow you away right here and we can extend this funeral to include both of you."
Apparently Dean's realigning of his gun angered Reggie, because he took his eyes off Sam and began to say, "You arrogant b—"
But that was all the time Sam needed to gain the upper hand. Sam made a grab for Reggie's hand and twisted it until the knife fell away. He then proceeded to drop to the ground as Tim aimed a shot at his other leg. It missed narrowly, but Sam's injured leg hit the ground hard, causing him to release a groan of agony.
"Sam, run!" shouted Dean, who was now apart of the mess of limbs. But Sam couldn't just leave his brother there. He delivered a swift kick to Reggie's face after Dean punched him to the ground, and he was knocked out cold. Tim aimed his gun at Sam once again, but Dean dove on top of him to steer his brother clear of the shot. This brought on a whole new level of pain from the gunshot wound, but Sam had no time to dwell on the pain as Dean lifted him up and yelled, "Come on, we gotta go."
Sam stumbled forward, his vision hazy. He was vaguely aware of Dean pulling him in different directions every few moments and the sound of more gunshots behind them. All Sam could do was throw his arm over Dean's shoulder and let him be a crutch as they traveled deeper into the woods. They'd been at it for nearly ten minutes and Sam felt like he was about to pass out when Dean finally spoke.
"There's a cabin up ahead. Looks empty. I think we lost him."
Sam forced himself to not make a sound to indicate how much pain he was in as they walked inside the cabin. Dean placed Sam on a nearby couch, and Sam's vision finally returned to focus.
"Dean, I—"
"Is the bullet still in your leg?"
"No. Dean—"
"There's gotta be some medical supplies somewhere. Stay here," ordered Dean before entering a different room. Sam rubbed his hand across his face miserably. Dean was mad at him. There was no other explanation. Sam had kept a secret that had blown up in their faces the same way they always did. Except this one happened to almost get them both killed. How was Sam supposed to make up for that?
Dean returned with a bowl of water, a cloth, and a first aid kit in hand.
"Let me see that leg," he said. Sam obliged by propping it up on the couch and rolling um his jeans.
"Damn, it got you in the shin," muttered Dean. A bullet to the thigh hurt, but it was preferable to one in the shin; the bullet in Sam's leg had hit bone.
"This is gonna hurt," Dean told Sam, looking him straight in the eye. Sam braced himself as Dean disinfected the wound. "It's okay, you're okay," Dean repeated over and over as he stitched up the wound. Even mad a Sam, Dean couldn't turn off his big-brother instinct. It came naturally to him, especially when Sam was in pain.
When Dean finished with Sam's leg and rolled the jeans back down, he then gestured to Sam's arm where the tear was in his clothing.
"Let me see that one."
"How—?"
"I'm not stupid, Sam. You just so happen to have a rip in your shirt the same night two hunters try to take you out? Come on."
Sam sighed, pulling up his sleeve to let his brother check that wound.
"Well, looks like you had time to tend to that wound. It's a shame, though, that there wasn't a single second left for you to pull me aside and tell me that two psychopaths were trying to kill you and, oh yeah, dose you with freaking demon blood." Dean was nearly shouting at the end, but Sam didn't blame him. Put in the same situation as Dean, Sam would be pissed.
"You're right. I put us both in danger tonight, and I'm sorry. I should have told you we had history," Sam admitted.
Perhaps it was because of how open Sam was being, but Dean sighed and sat next to Sam on the couch. "What history?" he asked calmly. "And where was I when this history went down?"
"You weren't with me. It was during that week right after I started the apocalypse, when I was trying to get out of hunting because I didn't trust myself. I noticed some demonic patterns in the town I was in, but I didn't want to look into them myself, so Bobby sent some hunters over to help: Tim, Reggie, and Steve. They were pretty disappointed that I was taking a knee from the job, but they went off to deal with the demon anyway. Well, what they thought was a demon. It turned out to be ten more, and Steve didn't make it out alive."
Sam paused, shuddering slightly. "If I'd gone with them, maybe I could have saved him. That's part of the reason why they hate me."
"Sam, you just said yourself there were ten demons. You couldn't have taken that on," Dean assured Sam, his tone soft and his face morphed to sympathy.
"Yes, I could have," insisted Sam. "If I drank demon blood. Which the demons told Tim and Reggie during their fight, along with the little fact that I was the one that started the apocalypse."
Dean stiffened and sucked in a quiet breath, not liking where this story was headed.
"So Tim came back with a vile filled with demon blood, and told me I was gonna go out there and get rid of the demons with my powers."
"Or what?" asked Dean.
Sam tensed. "There was a girl I had been talking to while I was there. Reggie came in after Steve with her in cuffs. They were gonna kill her if I didn't agree."
Dean looked disgusted. "And they think they're not monsters. To kidnap a girl for that. . ." Dean trailed off, and Sam could see a question forming in his mind. "Did you . . . Sammy, did you do what they wanted?"
Sam met his brother's gaze and shook his head. "No. I fought back against both of them. There was a moment when they pinned me down and managed to get the blood in my mouth, but I spat it in Tim's face once they'd thought I swallowed it."
"That's my boy," smiled Dean, clearly proud.
"There was more fighting, and once I got the upper hand they ran out of there pretty quickly." Sam shook his head, looking at the ground. "I still have nightmares about what might have happened had they succeeded."
"Sammy," Dean said, his voice a near whisper. Sam picked his head up to look at his brother, who appeared more hurt than anything. "Why didn't you ever tell me this?"
Sam laughed humorlessly. "Because the same night that happened, Lucifer appeared to me and told me I was his vessel."
Dean drew his lips into a thin line at hearing this.
"We had bigger things to worry about. Besides, I couldn't get you to reunite with me even after hearing what I was to Lucifer. Why would you care about some random hunters who went after me?"
The brothers were quiet for a moment before Dean said, "Sammy, listen. I don't care how angry I am with you. If someone comes after you, I'm gonna protect you from whoever it may be. That's my job, to look out for you. That doesn't stop just because we aren't on the best of terms with one another."
Sam's eyes were filling dangerously quickly, but all Dean did was smile sadly, which then formed a grimace. "I know I was terrible to you after what happened back then. You'd never needed me more, and I couldn't accept the ten olive branches you were extending to me. I never should have made you feel like you couldn't come to me with things like this, and for that I'm sorry."
Sam smiled at his brother. "It's okay, Dean."
"And another thing," Dean added. "You're not a monster, not even close. Those two were delusional for thinking I'd help take you out."
"Well, I never really believed you'd join in," Sam grinned.
"I hope not," said Dean seriously, but he quirked a smile when Sam's remained on his face. Dean leaned forward and pulled Sam into a hug, gripping him like a lifeline. He needed Sam to know that no matter what happened, he'd take care of him. Sam relaxed in Dean's hold, glad to know Dean didn't believe what Tim and Reggie said about him.
"Now," said Dean as he pulled away, his voice back to business mode. "You're gonna stay here so you don't injure that leg any further, and I'm gonna go murder those bastards."
"Dean—" Sam began to protest.
"No. Sammy, they came after you, and they don't seem like their gonna stop any time soon. I'm not going to let them hurt you. I won't, okay? So you can save it because I'm doing this," Dean insisted.
"It's too dangerous to do alone. There's two of them and one of—"
Sam didn't get a chance to finish his sentence because the cabin door swung open, Tim and Reggie entering. This time each of them held their own gun. Dean sprung to his feet and stood in front of Sam. If they wanted to kill his little brother, they'd have to kill Dean first.
"Man, you two just don't quit, do you?" Dean shook his head. In a different circumstance Dean would be thrilled to face the two hunters who hurt his brother and teach them a lesson about what happens to people who go after Sam. However, Sam was sitting defenseless behind Dean, and Dean wanted nothing more than to get him out of the cabin safely.
"Brave words coming from a guy who's staring down the barrel of a gun," Reggie raised his eyebrows.
"I don't think you understood what we were saying to you last time, so I'm gonna make the offer again," Tim said slyly. "Your brother isn't even the same species as us; he's just another supernatural freak that has to be taken out, one way or another. Maybe the SOB is manipulating you and you can't see how dangerous he is, but we can. So step aside and let us do something you'll thank us for later on."
Dean didn't have to glance back at his brother to know the words hurt; Dean could feel their impact himself. Only with every breath Tim took to spit out another insult toward Sam, it fanned a flame of pure rage inside Dean. Sam was the person Dean could rely on most in the world. He was so important to Dean, and he'd rather die than turn against Sam.
"You listen to me, assholes," Dean seethed slowly, wanting the hunters to understand every word. "You came here and acted all buddy-buddy with me, thinking I wouldn't be furious at what you did. Both of you are dead wrong. Let's get one thing straight: Sam is very much human, and he would be even if he still had psychic powers. And he sure as hell isn't manipulating me into protecting him, because I can promise you that the feeling of wanting to kill you is extremely real and entirely my own. So you're both gonna die tonight because you're the monsters, and you're gonna realize what happens to arrogant douchebags who mess with my little brother."
And then Dean pulled his gun from his pocket at a breakneck pace, firing it at Tim and Reggie. They'd been distracted by Dean's speech, fear growing in each of their eyes, but now they were on high alert. They managed to jump out of the way of the bullets and began firing themselves. Dean felt an arm wrap around him and the sensation of flipping. Sam had dragged him behind the couch, putting in so much effort that he was extraordinarily pale.
"Hang in there, Sammy," Dean told him, firing shots from behind the couch. One struck Reggie right in the heart, and he crumpled to the floor instantly. Tim let out a roar of rage and abandoned all logic, leaping over the couch before Dean could anticipate it and tackling him to the ground, knocking the gun out of his hand. There was a brief struggle before another shot rang out, and it took Dean a moment to realize it had been Sam who fired it. Tim had a split second's shock frozen on his face before his life was taken by the bullet to the head.
"Good one, Sammy," Dean nodded, looking over his brother for any new injuries.
"You've got my back, I've got yours," shrugged Sam.
Dean allowed himself a small smile, which Sam returned. Dean felt his heart warming.
"One thing baffles me," he said to Sam.
"What's that?"
Dean raised his hand and patted his brother twice on the face. "How could those two think someone like you isn't one of the best men alive?"
Sam was thrown by this rare open display of affection, but he recovered quickly and responded, "They don't know the impact you've had in shaping who I am over the years."
Dean didn't care about chick flick moments in that instant; he pulled his brother closer for the second hug of the day, and Sam melted into his embrace with ease.
"I'm always gonna be here for you, Sammy," Dean said softly. To ward off bullies or revenge-driven hunters or the things that went bump in the night. It was his job, after all.
It was why Sam was so grateful to have Dean as a brother.
What did you think? This was my first story so please review and leave feedback! Have a great day!
