Old Friend, New Friend

Ch5

It was a few hours later, and Scott was sitting against the head board for support, Dean sitting close beside him. Sam and Cas were at the edge of Sam's bed watching the other two intently. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, staring into each others eyes, as if having a conversation; for all Sam new they could be; their faces not 20 inches apart.

Sam did not see Dean get a mouth full of Scott's blood, or that would have been for most in his mind. Instead his mind was on 'what the hell happened to the poor kid'. Sam shuddered internally as he remembered all the blood coming from the boy. Glancing at the now dry blood stain on the green carpet. He wanted to ask Castiel, but by the look on his face when it had happened, he had no clue; now on the other hand, he looked as if he had an idea of what had happened, but would say nothing till he found the exact truth. So Sam kept his mouth shut.

Cas really did have an idea. When he looked into Scott's grey eyes, he had got a glimpse of the truth. He did not want to say anything when his nephew was still healing; though he was close to good health, he could sense it in his grace. The reason that it took Castiel such a long time to find Scott, was that like Dean and Sam, Scott also has sigils carved into his ribs; this had taken place when Scott first came into his charge. He glanced over at Sam; who in turn kept looking at him out of the corner of his deep brown eyes. Cas knew that Sam wanted an answer to the latest event, and he did too for that matter; but they had silently agreed that would not break the silence unless Dean or Scott did it themselves. So the two men sat beside each other, watching the hunter and the boy silently converse.

Scott and Dean looked into each others eyes, not ten inches apart, as they silently talked to each other. Not like the brothers did though, with their silent jesters and body language; no, Scott could read minds but there was another technique that went with it. If he had a close connection with someone, he could speak in their mind, and that's what the two were doing right now. Sense Dean had ingested, although not on purpose, Scott's blood, they had a bond. - just like him and Cassy-Cas, from raising each other - Once Scott had recovered from the . . . attack, he had felt the pull almost immediately between them. He knew he should panic; this had never happened before, no one had ever tasted his blood; His father never allowed it and he had never allowed it; what would be the point when Lucifer would make him kill that person, it would be to painful. Scott knew that Cassy-Cas was worried about him and that he should talk to his friend, but he talked to one and only one person sense the attack, and that was Dean. He knew he should also be worried that the one person who drank his blood was his friend's charge, who saved Dean from hell, and yet he wasn't, and that was sorta selfish.

Dean knew that he should be freaking out right know, demand what the hell was happening in that moment; he was having a weird conversation IN HIS HEAD WITH ANOTHER PERSON! But he was real calm as Scotty expanded to him how it had happened and why him; and he was glad that it was him and not Sammy or Cas. He always hated it when Missouri did that to him, saying what he was thinking before he could say it, "Don't sass me boy!" she would tell him, even though he was only thinking it, and than Sam would laugh at him and he would think another thing, and it would just keep on happening and happening. But with Scott, even though the kid did it right off the bat, before even saying his name, Dean did not freak out; not like he had with Sam, when he had found out about the visions; this was something worse, some stranger reading his thoughts, his secrets, but it felt like they had been doing it for years, like it was natural.

Not being able to take any longer, Sam loudly cleared his throat. Dean and Scott so absorbed in their conversation that they were startled. Dean torn his eyes away from Scott and glared at his brother as Scott, Scared that his father could attack at any time, gave a small gasp, grabbed Dean's sleeve in his hand and squeezed his eyes shut real tight. Sam saw this and felt guilty, for he had caused this, Cas was slightly worried.

As the moments passed in silence and nothing happened, Scott cracked his eyes open. Nothing seemed amis as his head throbbed lightly, no Lucifer, no demons attacking; he let out a breath that he didn't know he was even holding. He glanced at the men around him, who in turn were looking at him with worried expressions. Well, this was going to suck big time!

"This can not be good, not in the least bit what so ever." Scott said almost straight to the point, but was met with a coress of:

Sam: "Are you okay?"

Cassy-Cas: "Have you not healed properly?"

Dean: "Scotty, what's wrong?"

Despite himself, Scott smiled at the nickname. "No, guys, nothing is wrong with me, but what is wrong with the picture here?" After a few seconds it dawned in on the men what the situation was, and a series of curses met the air, even Cassy-Cas swore in the angel language, Scott once again despite himself gave a quiet boyish giggle. Cas briefly closed his eyes trying to pinpoint every location of the demons around them, they were still clustered in the town; Sam got up and checked the salt lines and what not; and Dean took a long glance out the half curtained window to see if he baby was still there, live and kicking'. Once everyone was settled back down Scott continued, "Why aren't we dead yet?" he looked directly at Cas, Scott knew the angel had more ideas than the two hunters did.

Sam was confused and Dean's mind was blank as Scott still watched as Cassy-Cas mulled the question over and knew the very instant he found the answer; Scott's lips curled upward.

"A trap." Castiel growled out through his clenched jaw.

He was met by a simulations "What?" form the Winchesters.

"A trap," Cas repeated more clearly, "it makes more sense than any conclusion I have had the opportunity to think." and there were not very good thoughts at all.

"How?" Sam questioned him. He was even more confused now than before, and he felt really stupid at the moment; his brain still on all that blood, crimson red, he knew it wasn't demon blood, but he could smell Scott's blood in the air, a sweet scent like honey and cinnamon. Different, way different from demon blood, and he wanted to taste the red liquid; feel it slid down his throat, settle in his stomach, rush through his veins. He punched himself internally; he had to stop that, getting over his sick addiction for demon blood had been hard, and every time he saw or smelled the crimson liquid, he felt his heart speed up in anticipation, craving it. Yes, he was a total junking and he so badly wanted a fix. He glanced around himself, making sure no one saw him space out; no such like would have it as he met the gray eyes of one hybrid.

Scott worried his lip, as he had accidentally heard Sam's thoughts at that moment. His gray locked with slightly widened brown; Sam's eyes quickly shot over to Dean than back to him silently pleading with the boy not to tell his secret. Scott, himself, chanced a look at Dean, who was still talking to Cas and not paying attention with either of them. He looked at Sam once again, licking the corner of his mouth, he tasted honey as his tongue came to some dried blood, Sam watched, his pupils slightly dilated with craving. Scott shock his head, this would be their little secret.

"That's just stupid!" Dean said, there was no way that was the reason.

"It makes perfect sense, Dean" Cas was trying to reason with little success; nothing he said was getting through the older Winchesters stubborn mind. Sam was once again out of the loop, all cause of these stupid spacing out episode he had been having a lot of as of late.

Scott on the other hand, was quick on the uptake. "Not really perfect sense." he stated, all eyes turned to him. "You know what I mean." he sighed.

"No, Scott, we don't know what you mean." Dean was slightly angry, he actually didn't know what Scott meant or why the devil wanted him so bad; and by the look on Sam's face, he was not following the conversation at all.

"I'll try to explain." Scott addressed the Winchesters. "Now, I know you guys know Sam is Lucifer's true vassal; that he can't take over the world or defeat Michael with out him, right?" they nodded, paying close attention. "But sometimes you have to kill your traitor son first, before any of those can happen." Cas was sullen and the Winchesters were slightly shocked at the revelation.

"Wait a minute. Why would he want to kill you? Your his son, right." Sam asked trying to understand; why would a father want to kill his own son, he couldn't even imagine it.

"The only reason for my creation was to be a weapon." Scott stated simply, as if it didn't matter. "A son is suppose to honor his father, give him respect, loyalty, a son is supposed to do as his father says with out question. I did that; I never once voiced the hatred I felt for the things he made me do, the things I only did so he would be proud and not hurt me, I couldn't even think of hate towards him because he would know. And when god finally took action against us, after all the massacres I- he caused; God sent his beloved son, Lucifer, to rule over hell! Because apparently he was just confused and lost, because one of his favorite sons could not commit such Blasphemy. And what happened to me, huh? Not even giving it a second thought, I was to be executed, I was a mistake made by his son, I was his flawed grandson; I stood by my father because I was to scared to find out what he would do to me if I didn't obey him." Scott was up now, pacing between the beds, easily stepping over Sam and Cas's feet. He was to revved up to notice that the sharp pain against his bladder was slowly leaving; Crimson red blood soaked the crotch of his shorts, running down his legs and soaking the tops of his white socks, over his hikers and into the green carpet as he paced angrily. The hunters and angel were to stunned by Scott babbling and the site of so much blood leaving his body, none could utter a word.

"God didn't even let me speak, but I could not demand he listen. Like the devil only few things can kill me; god is one of those things. The only reason I'm here right now is because Castiel is the only one who spoke up against god. And the only reason Cassy-Cas is alive today is because god was proud of the courage Cas showed standing up to him." Now Scott was finally getting back to his point. "Now that Lucifer is out from hell, he wants to take care of me. Be it death or once again under his control. And the only reason I survived his shredding of my organs, is because I would rather be DEAD! Then do his bidding again. A father is supposed to love his son, care for him, have him with a woman because he wants him, not force a woman to have his son, and use that son as a weapon and cause him pain!" His face was streaming with bloody tears, as his emotions were going haywire. This was the first time he had cried sense the first time his father had ever hurt him. With his back turned towards the three men, he walked quickly in to the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind him.

Silence filled the motel room, as the three men sat there; not knowing what to say, if they should even say anything, should someone check on Scott or just let him pull himself together. Sense none of them could decide what to do the sat there, starring at Scott's blood trail. When the front of Scott's short spread with red wetness they feared that he was once again bleeding internally, but as the blood kept running out of his body, and he didn't pail or pass out they figured that maybe it was just the finishing of the passing of blood from earlier. They were definitely going to have to leave before the manager saw all of this blood. It looked as if all the blood from the boys body had leaked to the floor, and that intoxicating smell; Honey and Cinnamon. It made their mouths slightly water and pupils dilate. They were so screwed as the smell settled in the air around them.

He waited a few seconds after closing the bathroom door. When silence met his ears, he sighed in relief. This had never happened before, But with everything that had happened in the last 3 short hours, his barrier over flowed and burst over the edges. He went to the mirror and met red puffy gray eyes; when he looked into them, what he saw would never shock him, though it was rare for his barrios to be totally down like they were now. No matter who was in his life to love him, care for him; Scott knew, if not totally 100 percent that nothing could fix the betrayal he felt his father had caused, nothing could replace what a child's real father had ever done to him.

He splashed his bloody face with warm water, making the swirling of clear water turn pink with his blood; he didn't know where his cracked glasses or backpack was, but that didn't matter as his legs were becoming stiff. Scott glanced down, his eyes widened slightly as he took in all the blood; he couldn't believe that he forgot that this would happen, and he hadn't any extra clothes. He than noticed that this was not his shirt; he pulled the dark green material toward his now clean face, and took a long sniff.

The scent that filled his nose made him groan; he had come to know this scent only an few hours earlier; leather, sweat, no name clone and strictly Dean. Scott could feel Dean's every heart beat, every breath, every movement, Dean craving for his blood. It was new to Scott and it was intoxicating, and he loved it, but he could feel the even deeper craving from Sam and a barely there craving from Cassy-Cas, as the scent filled their senses. It was over whelming, they should go once he cleaned up he decided, as he took off Dean's shirt and hung it on the towel rack. He them turned on the water in the shower and stepped in fully clothed in his blooded shorts and hikers.

As the warm spray hit him, the water slowly turned pink as the water gradually soaked his cargo short and plaid boxer briefs; they would dry eventually so that was no worry. The water also, to the boy's surprise, slowly relaxed tight muscles that he didn't know he had, letting the tiredness seep in. He yawned big enough to crack his jaw; his tired eye lids drooped as he slowly crumpled in the bathtub. His eyes now fully closed as sleep took him, the stream raining over him. His usually loud snores covered up by the spray of water hitting his bruised flat stomach.

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