Thanks to all my readers, sorry to take so long to update, but there are site problems and I couldn't get my chapters loaded. Will post chapter 3 tonight and tomorrow.
Major spoilers for IMTOD
Comments are always so very much welcome!
Craven sat back, considering the two young men who'd just left his home. He'd trained many before them, Concha just being the most recent. She'd been special, Concha West, but not nearly as special as Sam Winchester. How long had it been since there'd been the right combination, eight hundred years, a thousand? He couldn't remember the last time.
Sam Winchester, that boy was special indeed.
Equally as special was his brother, Dean Winchester. Dean, maybe even more so than Sam, just in a different way. It was Dean who Craven had to be careful of, Dean, who if Craven would ever fear for his existence, he would fear Dean. Even if Concha hadn't already filled him in on some details he would have guessed these brothers had more than sibling bonds, just as Concha and Dante did. Dean wasn't merely an overprotective sibling. Obviously he felt responsibility for his brother. Sam, for his part, plainly felt, welcomed the comfort and familiarity offered by his brother's care and protection, sense of responsibility in the older Winchester. Craven had an idea there were far deeper bonds running through those two.
He needed to know more about them, more about how they'd become the people he saw today. He mixed a few herbs together in a bowl, added a few well chosen words, a wave of one hand, a match dropped in the bowl, and he was able to see. Scenes rolled by. Filling the air in front of him, bits and pieces of the lives of the Winchester brothers, some mundane, some important. As he watched Craven jotted in a notebook, he was looking for something specific, and would only know it when he got there.
His suspicions about the bond, the relationship between the Winchester brothers was repeatedly confirmed by the time Craven found something deeper, more important, something he had to investigate further. Watching this in detail, being able to see it entirely, this would require much more complicated spell-work. Not something Craven was incapable of by any means. He'd simply need a few more supplies.
An hour later, the proper tools, ingredients, in place and a formal circle cast Craven used skills learned in what seemed another lifetime. Sitting in a large, comfortable chair in the middle of his circle Craven let go, went back to a time not so long gone, eighteen months, two years maybe he guessed and became a very interested observer in the events of the three Winchester men.
There were people everywhere, not only people, but all sorts of machinery, cars, vans, helicopters and one very mangled black car. Craven immediately recognized Dean, though he wasn't looking so good right then, all bloody and so very, unnaturally still. His eyes slid to the next one, the boys' father, John Winchester, recognizing John him from his earlier investigation. Not looking as bad as Dean, but close, maybe not as still, but just as damn bloody. A car crash of some sort, probably that truck, a semi, wedged up against the car had played some part.
Finally Sam. Had Craven not been essentially ethereal, sprit walking, he was sure his legs would have given out and he'd sink to the ground at the sight of Sam. He was bloody, his face beaten, pulpy looking. It wasn't his physical condition shocking Craven so. Sam was in better shape, much better shape actually, than either father or brother. Craven's heart bled for Sam.
Sam was saying things, shouting for Dean mainly, asking some woman if he, they were alive. Asking over and over if Dean were alive? Craven followed Sam to a helicopter, watching, wishing he could ease the boy's fear, obviously Dean had not only survived, but was fine. However, Sam then didn't know that, had no way of knowing. Craven sat silent next to him, tied to a gurney, locked in place along one side of the helicopter. Sam craned his head, trying to look around, all the while being told to be still, his father and brother were being cared for. Sheer panic and unadulterated fear rolled off Sam, slamming into Craven like a tsunami, would have bowled him over if he'd been solid and corporeal at the time. If he'd been able to he'd have shed tears for this boy.
Skipping beyond the mundane details of getting to the hospital, things like surgeries he wasn't interested in seeing Craven found himself standing beside Sam, who stood in the doorway of a room, trembling, staring through tears at Dean.
Dean. In a bed, tubes and wires and things breathing for him. Dean looked terrible, but not as bloody as he earlier. Craven advanced, leaving Sam in the doorway. Waving one hand just above Dean's chest he jerked back, lips curing in a snarl. "Demon wounds, a demon did this." That angered him. Finally Sam came closer, and Craven wished again he could offer some sort of comfort, he'd only known these two for a few hours, but he liked them. Sam at long last took up a position first next to Dean's bed, then perched on it. Craven didn't have to hear words from Sam to know what emotions boiled within him. Not only was he terribly afraid Dean would die, leave him alone, he was maybe more so terrified Dean would die and leave him alone with their father. Either way Sam looked at it, he'd be alone. Begging Dean to wake up, Sam, Craven knew would do anything, give anything for his brother back healthy and whole. There was no room for thoughts of anyone else, he didn't care then about anyone else, just Dean.
Except for a few isolated incidents, the only time John saw Sam was when he went to Dean's room. Unless forced out, Sam didn't, wouldn't leave, not at first. No one seemed inclined to challenge him. Craven smiled, wondering how far anyone in that hospital would have gotten a determined Sam Winchester who didn't want to be moved. Dean's presence, bright and vibrant, in actuality more like his essence was in the room, but not attached to his body. Even in his current state still trying to comfort Sam, watch out for him. Dad seemed to be on his own. Craven had the distinct impression Dean's spirit was aware of him, watching him from time to time, especially when Craven wandered too close to Sam.
During one of those infrequent times Sam left Dean's side was to visit with their father, report on Dean's condition. It seemed John couldn't get that information himself, Craven found this disturbing, became the first in a long line of happenings that would disturb him about the entire situation. Craven didn't really believe John's words, telling Sam he'd find help for Dean. It was pretty obvious to Craven Sam wasn't totally convinced either. Thinking Dean would not have misled Sam for anything Craven watched as more occurred. John's motives were clear. He was interested in some gun, and some supplies. Craven peered over Sam's shoulder reading the list, constantly mindful of Dean watching him keenly, with more intensity now. He wondered if Dean remembered him from that time at all. The Dean he'd recently met hadn't acted as if he had, but it was difficult to tell. This Dean, here and now, his eyes followed Craven too well for it to be a feeling or coincidence on his part. Dean here could see Craven. Dean Winchester might very well be the most powerful hunter Craven had ever known, or even heard of. He'd definitely be adjusting his training of Sam, he was going to be teaching Dean and Sam.
The explanation given Sam by his father, the supplies being for protection for Dean, Craven knew by reading the list, it was a bold-faced lie. After Sam left, the look on Dean's face told Craven Dean knew it too. When Sam returned later, not overly friendly or happy John was, in no uncertain terms, informed Sam knew what they were for too, how he'd been duped into leaving Dean for a time. When they argued, Craven couldn't help laughing when Dean sent a glass of water flying across the room. That sure stopped the yelling! Using a Ouija board to communicate with his brother Craven saw Sam's hopes crash when Dean told him of the reaper following him. Sam didn't have to say it, Craven, in this state could feel it plainly enough. There wasn't any length Sam wouldn't go to, nothing he wouldn't sacrifice to have his brother back, have him alive. It was all for one simple reason, the only good reason as far as Craven was concerned. Sam Winchester loved his brother more than anyone or anything.
Which brought Craven back to why was Sam so afraid of being left alone with his father? In fact, Craven was sure Sam would merely be alone, on his own, he doubted those two would have stayed together beyond Dean's funeral rites, if they managed to go that far. Sam plainly felt the same. But then, as Craven was realizing in leaps and bounds, John Winchester may have fathered his sons, but Dean took care of he and Sam, raised Sam, was the center of the known and probably unknown universe to Sam.
Craven turned his attentions to Dean. It was more difficult following Dean's essence, since Dean was definitely aware of Craven. That little bit of knowledge shook Craven, was more than an interesting fact. He'd been around the essence of the near-dead before, they'd never so much as sensed him, let alone looked him straight in the eye and arched a questioning eyebrow at him. Some reaper, calling herself Tessa was who Dean spent time with when he wasn't watching over Sam. This reaper, this Tessa tried, gently at first to convince Dean to let go. Craven had seen this before too, people just couldn't let go of life, grasp that they had to move on. After two minutes of listening in, Craven realized Dean was different, vastly different than other people.
Dean hadn't wanted to live for himself, he never once asked Tessa for himself. The reaper was surprised, Craven could tell with no effort. No, this man, Dean Winchester, wanted to live to care for his brother, protect him, fearing without him Sam would be alone, eventually die in some messy, painful manner. A justified worry Craven knew. Beyond that he wanted to fight a fight against humanities nemesis. Not once did Dean ask for himself.
Following John Winchester next, Craven wasn't too surprised by what the man did, he expected it in fact. Making his way down the hall, to the elevator, John never saw Sam. Or if he did, never acknowledged the boy, a common trait in the man Craven came to know. Sam carried a package, probably the Ouija board. Seeing his father moving slowly to the elevator, Sam ducked into a small waiting area where vending machines lined both walls. The minute John stepped into the elevator, carrying the duffel Sam had thrown onto his table earlier, Sam darted forward. He looked up at the lights over the elevator doors, frowning, probably wondering, as did Craven why it was headed to the basement.
Sam stood for a minute or two, considering the elevator, and its destination before turning and walking down the hall to his brother's room with a small shrug of his shoulders. Craven sensed a new batch of emotions rolling off Sam. Something beyond just wanting Dean to survive, be healthy. Curiosity in his father's actions, but not enough to inspire him to follow. Resignation maybe? Definitely resignation his father would do whatever he damn well pleased, Sam's feelings aside. Resignation John's obsession with hunting a certain demon was more important than anything, and there was nothing Sam, or Dean, could do to change that, ever. Sam and his brother would always be second to John's personal demon hunt. For the first time Sam didn't care, he had the only family, only parent he ever really knew or needed in his brother. Sam never looked back, focused only forward toward Dean, saving Dean. Absolute resignation that no matter what the cost Sam's brother would live.
Craven was starting to see, understand.
The basement Craven followed John to was a typical large building basement. Damp, filled with all sorts of pipes, machines, things, who knew what they were all for. This basement had its very own demon, dressed as a janitor no less. John was after the demon all right. Maybe not for the exact reason Sam thought, suspected or maybe so, it was difficult to tell. Craven listened, sorry he couldn't step in, tell this foolish, foolish man he was being stupid. Never, ever trust a demon.
Sam got his miracle, got his brother back. He didn't care how or why it happened, never really even questioned it. Just said a quiet thank you and took the gift he, and Dean had been given.
Finally Craven listened, horrified by John's calmness, matter of fact manner when he sent Sam away, the man knew as much about where Sam's heart and loyalties were embedded as Sam did. That was disturbing in and of itself, but what he did to Dean in the end, that was inexcusable. Wrong on so many levels, in so many ways, inaccurate in ways Craven couldn't even begin to count.
When their father died Dean grieved, felt loss and abandonment and a deep down fear for Sam. Sam grieved too, not nearly as much, and mainly more for Dean. What Sam did feel, and felt deeply and profoundly was guilt, guilt he'd done some wrong to Dean.
Craven returned to his present self, leaned back in his chair and contemplated what he'd witnessed. Very interesting was the final feelings, inner turmoil from Sam, guilt because of something done to Dean, something Sam felt he'd done. Craven knew exactly what.
Craven was going to have to have a little chat with John Winchester, and being dead was neither an excuse nor deterrent.