Dangerous Beings.
Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This story does contain child abuse, it's not graphic but it is there, if you don't like please don't read.
Disclaimer... Still not mine, but my birthday's coming up well in a couple of months; Kripkie might want to think about them for a present.
A.N... Thanks to all who have read and reviewed, I really do appreciate it. Now onto chapter 4.
Chapter 4... Rescue, but will it be recovery?
John and Dean.
Days turned into nights, nights into weeks, and weeks into months. It had now been three months since Sam had disappeared. Nothing else mattered in their lives anymore but finding him, not the supernatural, not the hunt, not even the yellow eyed demon, they could take over the world for all the two older Winchesters cared. Sam was their main and only concern. Their days now consisted of searching, searching and more searching. The police had toned down their efforts, some of them even quietly suggesting that John and Dean be prepared for the recovery of a body, and not a live Sammy, both Winchesters refused to believe this though and doggedly continued their search. They had spent the past week going over places they had already tried, reminding folks that Sam was still missing. Having tried the more upscale places the previous two days they were trying around the school and store again today. Gathering up a batch of missing person flyers each they where heading out the door when Dean's phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hello is this Dean?" A stranger's voice spoke from the other end.
"Yes, who is this?" Dean replied.
"My name is Officer Vose; I found your number at a house where we found a young boy. We'd like you to come down and help our investigation by seeing if you can identify the child?" Hearing a strangled cry followed by the phone obviously being dropped, Officer Vose started shouting into his phone. "Dean, Dean please answer me." He tried this a few times before the phone was picked up and a gruffer voice rang in his ear.
"Who the hell is this? And what did you say to my boy?"
Officer Vose tried again." I'm sorry sir, as I explained to your son; we found his number in a house where we found a child. Now we need your son or yourself to come down to the hospital to try and identify the boy."
"Sammy, you found Sammy? Wait you said hospital right, he's alive?"
"Sir we don't know who the child is, which is the reason why I'm calling, but yes he is alive." Officer Vose answered.
"Oh, thank God. Dean he's alive. We will be right there."
Puppy dogs and prisoners.
Cheryl Evans had been an animal rescue worker for twelve years, in which time she had seen some horrifying sights, but the sight that she saw this cold December morning was something that would live with her forever. Responding to a call from one of the more affluent of the cities neighborhoods, she had spoken to one of the neighbors about concerns for a dog that looked to have been left in an obviously abandoned home. The neighbors confirmed that a u-haul had been spotted there two days ago, but nobody since, they had heard the dog wailing and could see it through the windows. Looking through the window herself, Cheryl could see the small beagle roaming from room to room. Unable to contact any owners she'd reported her findings and requested back up to enter. An officer she knew well turned up a short time later.
"Hey George, how are you today?"
"I'm fine Cheryl; don't think much of this cold weather though. What you got for me?" Officer Vose responded.
"Abandoned beagle, looks straight forward, I'll check the rest of the house though just to make sure there's nothing else. I just need you to get me in."
Getting in was easy enough, the dog seemingly friendly. Cheryl went about trying to coax the obviously malnourished beagle with meaty treats. It wasn't tempted. As she stepped towards it, he stepped back. Crooning words of encouragement, she stepped forward again, the dog shooting up the stairs, where it seemed to Cheryl it was almost daring her to come up. Taking up the dare she moved upstairs, the dog ran off. Reaching the top she could see the dog further down the hall sat outside the last door, tail wagging profusely. Walking down the hallway she spoke softly.
"What you up to boy?"
Seemingly in answer the dog looked longingly at the door. Allowing it self to be picked up when Cheryl reached him, he started to struggle when she turned to walk back downstairs. Nipping at her hands the dog jumped down, returning to its position by the door.
"You want something from out of that room?" Cheryl asked, immediately feeling stupid for talking to a dog. "Okay then."
Grasping the handle she pushed the door open, the small dog rushing into the room as she stood horrified on the threshold.
"George, you better come up here." She shouted as soon as she regained her senses.
"What's the matter?" George inquired as he reached the top of the stairs and could see Cheryl's face.
Cheryl could only point into the room she was stood outside. Arriving at her side George looked in. The dog had settled on a filthy mattress, nestled against the stomach of a naked, badly beaten boy. Hearing Cheryl lose her stomach contents, George quickly radioed for medical assistance and back up. Forcing himself forward, he made his way towards the child. As his hand touched the boys neck, he was relieved to both feel a pulse and get a reaction, although he was saddened the reaction was cringing and a feeble attempt to move away.
"Cheryl, take the dog, wait downstairs for the paramedics, I'll stay here." Looking around he spotted a ragged old towel, draping it softly over the child to allow him some dignity. "Its okay lad, if you can hear me my name is George, I'm a police officer, you don't have to be afraid of me, I'm here to help you." George whispered the words, whilst trying to assess the boy's injuries.
Multiple bruises of all different colors covered the child from head to toe. He was so thin the bones were clearly visible beneath his skin. The fingers of his left hand were twisted grotesquely in the wrong direction, needle marks could be seen running up his arms, his nose looked broken, possibly a cheekbone as well, and his right eye swelled shut, his left glassy and unfocused, blankly staring ahead and hinting of the pain he had been put through. His left leg was fractured so badly the bone could be seen poking through, the limb inflamed with infection, infection that could be felt in the heat radiating of the boy. Although he felt hot the boy was shaking uncontrollably, whether from fear, cold, fever or withdrawal George wasn't sure. Moving out of the way when the paramedics arrived, George found Cheryl talking to two fellow officers.
"How is he?"
"Doesn't look good, beaten badly, possible sexual abuse, malnourished and dehydrated. I'm going to ride with him to the hospital. You can take my statement there later."
About to follow the paramedics as they came down the stairs, his eye was caught by a piece of A4 paper partially hidden, sticking out from behind a unit. Plucking it out he stared at the picture of a smiling, mop haired boy, a missing persons description and a cell number written beneath. It couldn't be surely. Showing it to Cheryl he took out his phone and dialed the number.
Sammy's unwanted rescue.
Sam was in agony, chills racked his body, his leg was unbearable to touch, and he couldn't move his fingers and could barely see out of his one remaining open eye. He'd woken to his constant nightmare a short while ago, something nagging at his mind. Thinking it was about time for his morning fix he prepared himself for the latest round of suffering. Nobody came, his mind vaguely remembering nobody came last night either and he wasn't sure but he thought they hadn't been yesterday morning or the night before as well. A wave of panic competed with the relief that washed over him. Thoughts rushed through his mind "What's the matter with me, they've left me as well, they don't love me, nobody loves me, and I'm all alone again." Just as he was coming to terms with his situation and hoping his death would be quick, he heard the dog outside the door.
Hearing somebody speaking, he started crying at the thought his captors were back. The door opening had Sam switching off mentally, so much so he didn't realize the man stoking his hair wasn't Graham. Feelings of comfort started to enter his mind, but he'd been hurt too many times and he willed the feelings away, choosing instead to wallow in the furthest recesses of his mind. He had found someone there, the woman with the long blonde hair, who held him close and told him she loved him. Sam never felt himself being lifted onto the stretcher and carried away from his prison.
A.N... Hope you like? Please let me know by clicking the button. Chapter 5 probably by Thursday, Peanut x