Chaos
Chapter Two
victorious_1314
AU: Hi, I've been really excited to write more for this story so here I am :) I want to apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors I 've made/will make. The writing app I have on my computer doesn't spell check so I have to use one online where I copy and paste my writing in it. I try to fix all of the errors but some always evade my attention haha. I'll try to do better, though. Anyways, Thank you for your kind reviews, favorites, and follows! You are the reason I keep writing. 3
Warning: Sensitive topics, self harm, suicidal thoughts/actions, mentioned torture/abuse, mental instability, insanity, frightening scenes and flashbacks
Dean watches his brother worriedly as he looks at his slice of pizza like it's the most disgusting thing he's ever seen, "What the hell, Sammy? I got cheese," Dean complains, "your favorite." Sam smiles at Dean and forces himself to take a bite of the fly covered pizza. Sam tries to hide his disgust as he feels the bugs crunch under his molars. "Ah, you like that one? I'll make sure I do it again." Lucifer teases.
Sam swallows and wipes his greasy fingers on his jeans before speaking, "So, what's dad hunting again?" He asks casually. Dean narrows his eyes, "What, you don't remember?" When Sam shakes his head, Dean continues, "He's hunting a possible poltergeist a couple towns over with Pastor Jim, remember?"
Sam's eyes widen, "Oh, yeah! The case with that woman who killed her children, right? The children became vengeful spirits and started drowning whoever lived in that neighborhood whenever they took a bath?"
Dean raises his eyebrows, "What the hell are you talking about?" Lucifer snorts, "They didn't figure that out until after John and Jim salted and burned the mother's body."
Sam freezes up and stuffs his mouth full of pizza, glad that the flies have disappeared. He coughs a few times, "Uh, never mind."
"Oh, wow. You really took care of the situation," Lucifer laughs. Dean continues to look at Sam like he's suddenly grown a second head until his cell phone starts ringing in his pocket. Sam takes one look at the old, disposable flip phone and has to stifle his laughter. God, he misses his smart phone.
"Hello?" Dean answers. John's voice responds immediately, "Hey, Dean. Turns out we were wrong about the mother being the ghost. Another person was killed last night, same way as the previous victims. We're going to have to stay another week, at least. Everything okay over there?"
Sam is watching Lucifer scratch at the green paint on the walls, absentmindedly. Dean feels his heart drop at his father's words and begins watching Sam closely, feeling even more freaked out than before. Something weird is going on with his little brother and he's going to get to the bottom of it. "Uh, yeah. Every thing's fine here," Dean lies, "Sam started school today and I'm still working at the shop. I'll call you if anything happens."
John and Dean finish their conversation with some awkward wishes of good luck before Dean closes the phone. Lucifer's nails are black and long as they scratch at the paint, making it peel and curl as he drags his hands down. Sam can't take his eyes away, the destruction almost aesthetically pleasing to watch. "So, um, that was Dad," Dean says slowly and carefully, "He says that he'll have to stay a bit longer." Dean decides not to tell Sam about the failed salt and burn. He's already creeped out enough by his brother's prediction coming true.
Sam nods, forcing his gaze from Lucifer's actions, "Yeah, okay," Sam mumbles, "I'm gonna take a shower and head to bed, alright?" Sam stands up and frowns when he notices how spooked Dean appears. "You, uh, you okay?" Sam asks nervously.
Dean lets out a short, airy laugh, "Y-yeah, I'm good, man." Sam nods and leaves the cramped kitchen and enters the bathroom. Dean lets out a breath of air he hadn't realized he was holding and sags in his chair. Something bad is going on here. When Dean looks at his brother he, of course, still feels his love and need to protect him, but he also feels something else. Something not quite right. It almost feels like anticipation. Like, when you're watching a horror movie and you're waiting for the monster to pop up any moment. You twist and turn in your seat, struggling to somehow cover both of your eyes and ears at the same time and that heavy feeling of dread sits in your stomach. Your heart feels like somebody has punched their hand through your chest and is squeezing your beating organ with all of their might. That's what Dean feels when he looks at Sam. Like Sam is a grenade with the pin pulled from it and Dean is standing too close.
.
.
.
Sam wakes up the next morning in shock. Had he actually fallen asleep last night? He looks over at Lucifer who is sitting on the end of the bed, peeling the skin from his own arm with a knife. Sam grimaces and looks away. His eyes land on the clock, it's 7:00 am. He feels like he might cry. He just slept an entire night. Sam smiles smugly and gets dressed and washed up for the day.
Dean reads the comics in the newspaper and sips his third cup of coffee. He hadn't been able to sleep at all last night after all the strange things that have been going on with Sammy lately. Sam walks into the kitchen and swings his backpack onto his shoulders.
"Come on, Dean. We're going to be late," Sam does his best to sound annoyed at his brother for keeping him from going to school, though in actuality he can't help but feel grateful to him for delaying the inevitable. Dean chuckles and grabs the keys for the Impala, "Alright, I'm coming."
Sam slips on his vans by the door and they both trek outside, the unforgiving summer sun beating down on them. Sam learned his lesson yesterday when he wore his dark, heavy clothes to school. Now he's wearing one of Dean's old AC/DC tees and a pair of ripped jeans. Sam managed to tame his hair better this morning so his bangs swoop across his forehead instead of just hanging over his eyes.
As they drive in the Impala, Dean turns on the radio to a station the Sam vaguely remember enjoying. The beginning techo instrumental of, "Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears pours through the speakers. Sam starts laughing immediately, he remembers that he and Dean used to jam out to this in the car and crack up. Dean laughs with him and Sam starts singing along in an annoying, nasally voice as soon as the lyrics start. Dean looks at him strangely but laughs nonetheless. Sam is hardly able to compose himself and sing along because he's laughing so hysterically.
Dean thinks he might crash the car because he's cackling so much he thinks he might puke. The song starts to finish and Sam's face is red and his laughter is mixed in with coughs at his point. Dean finally is able to breathe enough and asks over the fading music, "Where the hell did you learn that song? Was that Britney Spears?"
Sam briefly forgets where he is and replies, "What the fuck are you talking about? That's a classic!" The enthusiastic radio announcer cuts in, "That was, 'Baby One More Time' by Britney Spears in her new album that was just released this morning! It's already making a splash in the industry and being played on radios all over the country! Now, for some Cher to brighten your morning on, WRKH 103.9!"
Sam and Dean say nothing as they pull up to the school. Sam feels like he's covered with ice and his eyes burn from not blinking. He feels like the slightest movement will trigger Dean to start questioning him. Instead, Dean pulls up to the sidewalk without a word. Sam doesn't need any convincing and he barrels out of the car and towards the school. Lucifer doesn't stop laughing, "That had to be the stupidest thing you have ever done!" He giggles. Sam runs a hand through his hair in frustration, "Just be quiet, I'll find a way to fix that."
Lucifer snickers, "Honestly, Sammy, it's really idiotic to keep lying like this. Maybe we should just tell him." Sam stops in his tracks and turns around to face his hallucination, "What if that changes the future, huh? Then what? What if I tell him and he doesn't believe me and they think I've lost my mind?" Lucifer opens his mouth to reply but Sam puts up a hand to silence him, "Don't even go there."
"Who the hell are you talking to, freak?" A male voice calls behind him. Sam realizes that he's standing in the middle of the hallway talking to nobody with a start. He turns around to see the jock that, that girl is dating. The one that started the bullying. Shit.
"I said, who the hell are you talking to?" The dick repeats. Sam rolls his eyes, "Nobody, leave me alone." Sam moves to walk past the large boy but he's pushed back. The boy is wearing a T-Shirt with the school's mascot of a dragon on it. His hair is gelled into diminutive spikes atop his head and his jaw is tense and angry. The boy speaks, "See, I would let you go, but I have a bone to pick with you."
Sam's eyebrows shoot up, "What? What do you mean? I never did anything to you! I don't even know who you are!" The boy laughs, "Name's Hunter, and you were rude to my girlfriend yesterday."
Sam frowns, "I didn't do anything to her," he insists, "I didn't even talk to her!"
All of a sudden Hunter slams Sam up against the metal lockers and growls, "Huh, funny. She told me you told her to 'shut up.' Are you saying she's a liar?"
Sam glares at the teenage boy, this is ridiculous. He isn't going to be bullied by a kid, no matter how small the body he is, is in now. Sam uses a maneuver he learned from Dean and twists free from Hunter's grip. "What the?" Hunter mutters, but Sam is long gone. Running to his first class. He's already late.
"Wow, running from a High Schooler. This is a new low, even for you." Lucifer mocks. Sam rolls his eyes and sits down in class, apologizing to his Chemistry teacher profusely for being late.
.
.
.
The bell rings and Sam, yet again, rushes out of his English classroom, not wanting to quarrel with the jocks who were glaring at him throughout the entire period. Just as Sam is about to head out of the doors, his cell phone starts to ring in his bag. He leans against a cold metal locker, fishes it out of the backpack, and answers it. Sam has to plug his other ear to hear the voice on the other end through all of the talking and yelling teenagers around him.
Dean's voice comes through the speaker, "Hey, Sammy. I have to stay late at the shop and help the boss. Will you be alright walking home?" Sam looks around warily, and sure enough, Hunter and his merry men are watching him. Sam stifles a sigh, "Yeah, I'll be fine. When will you be home?" Sam says, knowing fool well that the motel room isn't 'home.'
"Around 7'O'Clock. I'll bring home some subs for dinner, okay?" Dean answers. "Alright," Sam chirps, "Bye." He closes the phone and starts speed walking out of the front doors, hoping to evade the bullies who most likely want to beat him to a pulp. As Sam steps outside he notices that instead of the dry, hot weather they've had lately, it's drizzling. He picks up his pace and starts half-running down the street.
Sam glances quickly behind his shoulder to see the group of guys gaining on him. He breaks out into a sprint, cutting through alleyways and in between buildings downtown. He runs down an alleyway that has a garbage bin with a sizable space behind it that he can squeeze into. He looks behind him once more to check if they can see him, and slides behind the green, stinking bin. He hears shouts and footsteps run past his hiding place and the rain starts pouring down from the sky so hard that he can barely see through it.
Sam waits several minutes before emerging from the space, he's completely drenched. "That was close," Lucifer sighs. Sam nods, squinting to see through the rain and starts walking around the corner of the alleyway, and onto the street when a pair of hands push him down, hard. His head smacks against the concrete beneath him and his world spins.
"Hey, motherfucker," Hunter's voice shouts over the loud rain, "We've been looking for you." They must have been heading back the way they came. Lucifer chuckles, "Talk about unlucky."
Sam can barely see through the rain but estimates about seven guys are around him. Even in his adult body he probably couldn't fight this many guys off, it's just unfair. A foot kicks him in the stomach suddenly and he groans, curling into a ball.
This is ridiculous, he shouldn't even be in this situation. Rain pours into Sam's eyes, making it too blurry for him to see. Someone picks him up from the collar of his shirt and punches him in the face a few times. Blood drips from Sam's mouth and nose. He looks up at his assailants and does the only thing he can do, laughs.
"What the fuck?" One of them says. "What the hell is so funny, dumbass?" Another asks, sounding somewhat disturbed. "He's fucking crazy. I saw him talking to himself earlier!" Hunter spits. They all start hitting him then.
Sam doesn't know how long he is used as their punching bag for. But at one point he does wonder if they are planning on beating him to death. Eventually they stop, laugh, and insult him for awhile. Then they leave him, bleeding on the pavement, the rain diluting his blood and eventually washing it away.
"You don't look so good." Lucifer says, laughter bubbling through his words. Sam rolls over and pushes himself into a sitting position. He feels his ribcage for breaks or fractures but can find none, at least he avoided that. They mostly focused on his face which he's sure is all kinds of fucked up. Sam looks over to see his bag is torn open and all of it's contents scattered on the ground, destroyed by the rain. Sam manages to stand up and find his cell phone, which is, sadly, emerged in a puddle of water. Sam opens it but can't get it to turn on so he can call Dean.
Where the hell even is he? He runs his bruised hands through his soaking hair and spits some blood on the ground. His lips are split in several places and he bit his tongue pretty bad when they kicked him in the gut. Sam gathers his damp items and stuffs them into his bag, preparing a long trek home from wherever he is.
"This is bullshit," He says to himself. He can't do this. He can't pretend to be a 16 year old version of himself any longer. He needs to get back to his own time, now. He'd take Leviathan over this any day. He growls and starts walking down the street, not caring where he ends up, just wanting to get away.
.
.
.
It's pitch black out and Sam is sitting against a large grey building, under a streetlight, when the Impala pulls up. The rain is unrelenting and Sam is starting to wonder if he'll ever be able to dry off.
Dean had been driving up and down every street in the damned town for hours, searching for his little brother, until he finally spotted him. As he pulled up closer he noticed that Sam was soaked, bloody, and staring off in the distance at nothing. Dean pulls up and all but carries Sam into the passenger seat. What the hell happened? He knew it was a stupid idea to have Sam walk home alone when he hasn't been acting normally lately.
Dean doesn't talk the whole ride to the motel, and Sam is grateful for the silence. Once they're inside of their room, Sam plops down onto the couch, feeling like he could sleep for a year. Dean grabs the first aid kit from underneath the bathroom sink and sits down in front of Sam. Dean cleans Sam's wounds wordlessly and his anger grows with every breath.
Finally, he can't keep quiet any longer, "Who did this?" He says, his voice low and rumbling, much like the thunder outside. Sam smiles sadly, "It really doesn't matter."
Dean scoffs, "Yeah, it does! It does fucking matter, Sam! I'm going to find whoever did this to you and I'm going to kill them! Who. Did. It?" Dean is gripping Sam's shoulders tightly now, the first aid kit forgotten and fallen from his lap.
Sam laughs, "I can't do this anymore." He mumbles under his breath. "Can't do what anymore?" Dead asks incredulously.
Sam looks up at Dean, his eyes wide and his lips upturned into a shocked smile, "This! I can't do this! This pretending, this game that we're playing here!"
Dean lowers his hands, taken completely off guard, "What are you talking about, Sammy?"
"It's Sam. And I can't keep lying to you like this, I'm not your Sam." He finally says, his voice wavering with anxiety.
Dean frowns, "What the hell do you mean, you're not my Sam?" Dean's thoughts start to wander. What if... No. He checks the salt lines every day. There is no way Sam is possessed. Plus, Dean has never encountered a demon before, but he doesn't think they'd behave the way Sam has.
"I mean, you were right about what you said yesterday," Sam answers, his voice low and scared. Dean tilts his head to the side, what did he say yesterday that Sam is referring to?
Sam finally continues, "I'm from the future."
