DISCLAIMER: Santa ain't real huh? Because I still don't own them.Or maybe because I've been naughy?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: No words can express my regret from trying to run away from this fic. Well, it caught me. I know it's short, but people here in the house bug me all the time, so, I'll try to upload the last part before the year ends. Much love to all my readers!Mwah! Merry Christmas!
NEARLY LOST YOU
by Tari Palantir
Dean knew it the moment he saw his father stuck like a struggling butterfly on the wall. He knew it the moment he saw Sam held possessively in a stranger's arms.
He knew, the moment he saw the stranger's yellow eyes, that they were in deep trouble. It's the demon…shit, it's the demon!
Still, he advanced inside the classroom, eyes fixated on the trail of blood still visible under Sam's nose. "Dad?" he asked in his mind, trying to assess the situation, hoping for some reassurance. "This isn't a PTA meeting, right?"
His father just looked back at him grimly, mouth set in a firm line, before replying. "You think, Dean?"
The stranger laughed, head thrown back in great mirth. "Ah, that was a good one!"
Then he looked back at Dean and frowned. "Hello Dean. Aren't you supposed to be in school?" he asked mockingly. "John and I here have something very important to discuss, and you shouldn't be interrupting us."
"Would that have something to do with Sam?" he countered, sounding much braver than he felt. "If it does, I have to be part of the conversation."
The demon just cocked his head slightly, as if trying to figure out if he was for real.
"Dean!" John hissed, sensing Dean's recklessness.
"What are you planning to do?" he snapped angrily, moving a step forward. "You want to take Sammy away, too? Well I won't let you."
"Dean, get the hell out of here!" he heard his father hiss again.
But Dean moved on, anger propelling him as he stared at the cause of their suffering. "Give me back my brother," he demanded icily.
The demon just stared back at him, stroking his brother's dark locks. He took one more step, ready to grab Sam.
"Give me back my brother!" he shouted angrily.
"Demanding boy," the demon scoffed, looking amused. "You ask on what myplans are, when what you should really be asking is –"
Dean gasped in shock and later in pain as he was thrown back against one of the walls, now stuck like his father.
"—what are you planning to do?"
"This is it," Dean said as he marched up the lawn.
Sam looked up at the beautiful old house. He glanced at the almost bare tree standing tall at the corner. "Daddy's here?"
"Nah," his brother replied. "I'm thinking Dad went to the cemetery first, I'ts what he usually does when he's working with this stuff."
"Besides, this isn't the house Dad said he'll be working on. This, Samantha, is our old house."
Sam frowned at the nickname, but his eyes went big at the information. "It's Sam," he murmured. "Our house? When Mom was still alive?"
"Oh. Dean?"
"Hmn?"
"Why are we here? Shouldn't we go and look for Dad first?"
His brother frowned as well. "Well, we can't exactly afford a motel right now, squirt. I can't exactly carry all of your girly stuff around while we look for Dad."
"Besides, this is the first place that came to my mind."
"I dunno," Sam contested, "I still think we should have called Pastor Jim first."
"Well, we're here okay? Jeez, why did I get stuck with a nosy brat for a brother like you?" Dean grumbled, already picking the lock of the front door.
Sam continued to stare at the house. So this is where we lived with Mommy…
He looked at the bare tree and its sturdy branches. This is where Daddy and Mommy and Dean smiled before…Daddy doesn't smile like that anymore.
His musings were cut short as he felt something wet drip on his upper lip. He cautiously dabbed at it with his fingers, and frowned when he saw blood once more. He quickly wiped the nosebleed with his shirt sleeve.
Give me back my brother!
His head snapped upwards, shocked at the sudden shout. The voice was unmistakably Dean's, but his brother was just by the door, wasn't he?
Sure enough, Dean was there, bringing their bags inside their old home.Huh?!
"Hey, are you coming in or not?"
Sam took a step back as he was taken abruptly out of his thoughts. Dean frowned, sensing his brother's distress. "What's wrong, Sammy?" he asked as he walked towards his brother.
Sam looked at the concerned face of his older brother, trying to read every curve and line of the familiar face. He couldn't explain his sudden bout of apprehension. The recurring feeling that something was very wrong returned full force, and he just shook his head in confusion at Dean's question.
"Don't you want to see where we used to live?" Dean queried. "C'mon, bro, tell me what's up. You look weirder than normal." His brother laughed at his own joke, but his chuckles quickly died as he saw Sam wasn't amused.
"Seriously, Sam, what's wrong?"
Finally, Sam found his voice. "I don't know, Dean," he mumbled uncertainly. "I –I don't think it's safe."
Dean laughed. "What? You're scared that the house isn't safe?" His brother ran his hands through his short hair. "Dude, there's no one inside. The house is freaking abandoned!"
Sam still wouldn't budge.
Dean's smiled softly. "Here," he said, offering his hand out to his baby brother. "I'll hold your hand all the way inside if it makes you feel better."
Sam looked at the open hand of the person he trusted most in the world. Dean looked so confident of their safety, and yet a voice within him kept on insisting that the last thing he wanted was to be inside that house.
"C'mon, Sammy," Dean said, smiling.
Heart pounding, he started to reach for his older brother's outstretched hand.
"That's it," Dean encouraged as his hand started to move towards him, a hint of gold flickering in his eyes. "Just hold my hand and let's go inside."
"Hmn…you two don't seem to be enjoying yourselves," the demon commented, feigning hurt. "I'm offended."
He grinned maliciously at the two Winchesters struggling against their bonds, before softening as he looked back at the sleeping boy in his arms.
"I told you to run, son," John muttered darkly. "Now were both stuck!"
"Well, I'm also not enjoying being a part of the bulletin board, sir," Dean answered dryly. "Besides, I can't just leave my family."
Both men stopped bickering at the sound of the demon humming to Sam.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Can't we send him back to Timbuktu or something?"
John shook his head. "We could, but not while he has his filthy hands on your brother. Bastard already knocked him and his teacher when I came in."
Dean glanced at the still unconscious woman on the corner. "I can't believe I'm saying this…but I wish this never happened and I am still in Math class right now."
John smirked at that, before shouting at the evil entity. "Hey, cut the shit will you? We get it, we're stuck. Quit taunting us."
The demon stopped humming, its eyes now looking at the eldest Winchester.
Dean's eyes went wide at his father. "Dad! What are you doing? He's gonna hurt Sam!"
John ignored him, instead focusing on the enemy. "Give my son back, you son of the bitch. I don't care what it takes, but you're not taking him away from us." Then he started chanting the exorcism right again, all the while staring at the demon.
The demon sneered at the hunter. "Aww, how touching, John."
The demon then looked down on the sleeping boy in his arms. "But I fear you're already too late."
As if on cue, Sam's eyes fluttered and slowly opened.
John and Dean Winchester froze as their youngest family member looked back at them with coal-black eyes.
Like I said, it's really short. Bear with me. --Tari
