Innocence Implied

Disclaimer: Don't own anything to do with Supernatural, sigh just play with the boys and then send em home again...More or less in the same condition as when I er...

Summary: Dean is 21 and Sam is 17.

This is the continuation of my Innocence Trilogy so if you haven't read them it might pay to go and read them first and then come back here. I promise the story will be here waiting for you when you get back.

WARNING: DARK THEMES AHEAD READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

S—D

Chapter 11: When Dad comes a-calling

Then:

'Where's Dean?'

'He'll be here soon kiddo, I swear he'll find a way back to ya.'

'He's still gone isn't he? They took him for good this time?'

'No, no Sam nothing like that … ya know yer brother he'll move heaven and hell to get back to ya.'

'Dean's gone this time Uncle Bobby,' Sam yawned and slowly closed his eyes again, 'I'm … m'tired Uncle Bobby.'

'Git some sleep kiddo I'll be right here if ya need me.'

'Don't worry bout me Uncle Bobby, m'fadin' away an' no one's gotta worry bout me no more.'

'Dammit Sam Winchester don't ya dare say things like that, Dean's comin' back and so's yer daddy yer just hafta hang in there with me.'

'Just fading 'way, Claude's makin' sure I'm a fadin' 'way.' Sam said as he slipped into a deep but restless sleep.

'Aw Sammy, don'tcha go givin' up on us kiddo, we're not givin' up on ya, ya idjit.'

Now:

Dean pulled his jeans and shirt back on and suddenly felt a lot better, his pain was still there but at least he had his dignity back. Surreptitiously he glanced over at Arnold again; he had no idea how to handle the situation with the other man and victim. It was years ago when he had encountered Arnold for the first real time, vague memories of the quiet kid in the back of the school room merged with that day in the carpark and he felt sick at the thought of how they had witnessed Arnold's kidnapping. What would have happened if they had taken him and Sam that day as well? Would we be the same as Arnold is now if they had taken us that day as well?

'Dean? You okay man?' Arnold asked nervously as he watched Dean get dressed, he kept glancing down the hallway terrified that Ed was going to come rampaging down or that Father would come looking for him, 'we gotta go now dude if ya wanna try to run we gotta do it now.'

'Are you alright Arnold?' Dean said straightening as much as he could he glanced up at Arnold and saw the fear clearly etched across his pale and drawn features.

'Yeah, yeah we just gotta go before anything happens.' Arnold said and looked down the hallway once again, 'you need help?'

'Nah m'good,' Dean winced and held his left arm tight against his side in a vain attempt to take some pressure off his back, feeling like the Hunchback of Notre Dame he shuffled closer to Arnold, 'we good to go?'

'Yeah let's … shit there's a car coming up the driveway.' Arnold said panicking he stared at Dean, 'what do we do now?'

'Can ya see the car?' Dean asked as he moved oh-so slowly towards a window, 'do ya know it?'

'Oh God,' Arnold started to hyperventilate as he recognised the car immediately, 'it-it's my Father.'

'Arnold, Arnie … dude look at me,' Dean snapped sharply to get the other man's attention, 'he is not your father … remember that he is not your father.'

'Not-not my-my Father,' Arnold tried to push the words out but they stuck in his throat, 'he-he knows what I did to Ed, he knows …'

'Fuck it Arnold suck it up, you're not a snivelling little kid … grow some balls and man up.'

'Oh God … he knows.' Arnold cried, 'I stuffed up and he knows it.'

The sound of booted footsteps on the porch had Arnold backing up against the wall, he no longer acknowledged Dean or his feat of bravado just a short time ago with Ed. He was once again that terrified child from all of those years ago.

Dean shook his head in disgust, yeah he felt sorry for the guy but falling apart like that, he was a natural bully and whipping boy all rolled into one. Unarmed and injured was not the way Dean wanted to meet this new threat, limping heavily he made his way down the hall searching for an unlocked door.

'Arnold where are you, you worthless piece of shit?' a booming voice echoed through the house as the front door slammed open, 'here now boy.'

'Father?' Arnold said as he timidly crept towards the man, his head down and shoulders slumped in a perfectly submissive pose.

'I have been waiting for you at home you little prick what's taking so long?'

'I'm s-sorry Father but … but Uncle Ed's son is ill and he needed me to help him with me.'

'You were not to take this long … I needed you to relieve my stress and I had to use your new brother.'

Arnold froze when he heard those words; he hadn't had a new "brother" for six years, ever since Jason took an overdose. 'N-new b-brother?'

'Yeah just arrived this morning after you left, needs a lot of training but he's got a nice soft mouth.'

Arnold felt like his heart had stopped beating and his stomach twisted into a knot, 'how-how old is he?'

'Nice and young this one he's seven.' The large man bragged, 'got him fresh.'

'Seven? A seven year old kid?' Arnold screamed bordering on hysteria, 'you fucking low-life monster!'

S—D

Dean stared at the trussed up body of Ed, blood pooled on the floor beneath his head and another more putrid and yellow fluid dribbled down both of his legs. Swallowing deeply he took a step closer and then stopped, Ed was still alive but obviously in a bad way. Licking his lips Dean let his gaze roam around the room, memories flooding back unbidden of the last time he was subjected to punishment in a similar room. His fingers itched to grab one of the whips and to deal out his own retribution and punishment.

Arnold's screaming brought Dean out of the darkest depths of his imagination just as he wrapped his fingers around the leather bound whip handle, dropping the instrument of torture Dean listened carefully as the argument escalated outside the room he was in.

'What the fuck?' he whispered when he heard the age of the new boy, 'seven … fucking seven years old.' His anger building and smothering his pain Dean had to let go of some of his pent up rage, pulling his right fist back he felt the bones shatter when his knuckles connected to Ed's jaw and cheek repeatedly.

Breathing heavily he staggered back and rested his hands on his knees as he forced himself to calm down. Dean stared at the blood on his shattered knuckles and then at Ed whose head now hung at a very odd angle, sightless eyes fixed and started to cloud slightly.

Straightening as much as he could, Dean forced himself to look away and to forget the dead monster at his feet, there was another equally monstrous entity in the house to deal with. A monster that walked and talked like a human but had no soul, no heart and no conscious.

'Get your filthy fucking hands off him.' Dean roared as he lurched out of the room and into the hallway just in time to see Gerry force a shaking and sobbing Arnold to bend over from the waist. The younger man naked from the waist down with his jeans tangled with his feet, seemed to be boneless and devoid of any fight he might have had earlier.

Startled Gerry let go of Arnold's hips and turned to stare at the new arrival, 'ahh David nice to see you up and around.' He smirked licking his lips he gave Dean a lecherous stare as he reached down and grabbed Arnold's arm, 'you might have some competition boy.'

'I said get your filthy fucking hands off him,' Dean repeated as he forced himself to walk as straight as he could down the hallway, a murderous look in his eyes giving them an all-black shine. 'Move away from him now.'

'Yeah and who's gonna stop me?' Gerry asked raising his eyebrows in mock concern, 'where's your father whelp? He needs to teach you some manners.'

'Yeah well my Dad taught me everything I need to know … especially what I need to know to kick your ass. Real tough man aren't ya … terrorising and raping little kids, yeah big tough man.'

'Fuck you, you little shit.' Gerry shoved Arnold away and started to move towards Dean, 'Ed where the fuck are you?' He yelled looking for the other man.

'Sorry but Ed has gone to hell no stopping at go and no collecting one hundred dollars.' Dean said his voice low and gravely and very dangerous in pitch.

'You little bastard.' Gerry launched himself at Dean who managed to hold his own against the much bigger and healthier man but he felt his strength and fight starting to wane. With a primal roar Dean decided that if he was going to go down fighting then he was going to take Gerry with him. Moving with a speed he didn't even know he had left in him, Dean ducked a right handed hay-maker and came in low with two short sharp jabs one to Gerry's lower stomach and the other much harder blow to his genitals.

Dropping to one knee Dean prepared himself for the final parry of blows but all he heard was the sound of gunfire.

S—D

For some reason beyond Bobby's comprehension, he was the only person Sam would respond to in any shape way or form. Even Jim had no luck reaching the teenager; he had completely shut down to everyone and everything, except for Bobby.

'Sam, son you have to eat something,' Bobby tried again to get the boy to eat but Sam just stared at him with those big luminous green eyes and shook his head the thought of food brought his nausea back to haunt him.

'C-Can't Uncle Bobby.' He whispered, his voice hoarse and faint from disuse was only loud enough for Bobby to hear.

'Look just a couple of spoons of this here broth and I'll leave ya alone…'

'No! No! Don't leave me please Uncle Bobby don't leave me alone I don't want to be alone,' Sam cried out he reached up and twisted his fingers into the front of Bobby's shirt, he knew that he was acting like a hysterical child and not a seventeen year old young man but he couldn't care less. Both his brother and his father were gone, hunting again together, finally sick of Sam and why wouldn't they be. He was nothing but a whiny little bitch, too weak to hunt and to look after himself, let alone anyone else. He was nothing but a liability to them now. But for the life of him he couldn't remember why.

He looked at his uncle and then down at the soup and shrugged his shoulders, he'd try for Bobby's sake, with a shaking hand Sam lifted the spoon and managed to swallow a few spoonfuls of the thin bland liquid. Although, before he knew it Sam had finished half the bowl, the warm broth helped calm his tumultuous stomach.

'That's my boy,' Bobby praised the teen, he couldn't believe just how much Sam had become a shell of himself. 'How's yer leg Sam? Need something for it?'

'Nah I'm good, it's … there.' Sam admitted nothing but that said so much to Bobby and instantly the older man got up and went to get some pain relief for the stubborn kid.

'What about … everything else Sam?'

'Yeah I'm … fine.' Sam started to pick at a loose thread on the threadbare knee of his jeans, the other leg cut to accommodate the bulky brace on his leg was already edged with frayed threads he had continuously attacked, 'Uncle Bobby do ya think that dad and Dean will be finished on their hunt soon?'

Bobby stilled his movements and drew a deep breath as he tried to formulate an appropriate answer, 'ah not sure Sam, hopefully.'

'They … they're not coming back are they? They've left me here coz I'm no good anymore.' Sam said softly his words slurring slightly as his energy was nearly spent, 'm'tired Uncle Bobby.'

Gently Bobby swabbed Sam's arm and injected the morphine directly into his system, and then he tenderly brushed errant strands of hair from the teen's face, 'you need a haircut kiddo,' he said as he picked Sam up and carried him effortlessly to the sofa, 'sleep well kid, things will be better when you wake up.'

Jim watched from the shadows of the doorway; his heart breaking for the youngest Winchester. That joyful baby with amazing dimples, twinkling eyes and infectious giggle John carried into the church all of those years ago, flickered into his memory and his mind the image so bright it made him wince, and then the image of a tiny, silent four year old cradling that bundle of light tightly against him while Jim and John got to know each other filled his mind and he wanted to weep.

That bundle of light was now older and more fragile than ever before, although the question he had just asked Bobby and what he had said afterwards sent chills down Jim's spine. When Bobby stood up and looked over at Jim they nodded and went quietly into the kitchen, they needed to talk and whiskey laced coffee was definitely on the agenda.

S—D

'Dean? Son open your eyes son please,' John sank down on his knees next to his eldest son's lax body. He was still reeling from the shock of seeing his son in this place when he was supposed to be with Sam. 'Dean come on there you are,' he blinked back tears of relief when he saw his son start to come around.

'Hey Johnny there's another one in here … dead.' Caleb grinned at the bigger man, 'looks like someone or two did a job on him, though I think that it's that bastard Ed.'

'D-Dad?' Dean blinked and tried to focus on the images floating in front of him, 'why's there four of ya?'

'Dean … hey, hey no keep your eyes open,' John ordered knowing that would get more of reaction from Dean than cajoling and coddling him. 'What happened son? What the hell happened?'

'Arnold? Where's Arnold?' Dean blurted out as he fought to sit up, everything coming back to slam into his memory at once.

'Who's Arnold?'

'The … the other young guy … is he … is he alright?'

'Dean there's no one else here, just you and two dead guys.' John said worriedly as he helped Dean to his feet, 'signs of someone else but he's not here.'

'Ahh bet he's gone home to find the new one.' Dean mumbled more to himself than to his father.

'You've lost me son, what … who are you talking about?'

'Arnold he was a stolen as a kid, bastard was a cop,' Dean stopped and stared down at the now dead cop, 'this shit … he – he just found out that he got a "new brother" the kid's only seven years old.'

'Damn if I had time I'd bring him back just to kill him again,' Caleb snarled and gave the corpse a hard kick, 'whatcha wanna do with them?'

'Salt and burn the bastards aint no way we're letting them come back.' John said before turning his attention back to his son, 'Dean are you?'

'Tired, sore, mother of a headache and … ahh shit gonna hurl.' Dean turned away just in time to empty the meagre contents of his stomach against the wall.

'Come on son let's get you outta here,' John wrapped his arms around Dean and acting on impulse for the first time in a long time pulled him close to his chest and hugged his eldest son tightly, 'let's get back to Sam.'

'Oh God Sam.' Dean cried out, 'he was being attacked by Claude's ghost at the hospital, before they sent Arnold to take me.'

'Calm down Dean,' John pulled back and stared at his son, locking gazes with him, 'you have to calm down before you collapse, now Sam's at Bobby's they left a message for me, never said anything about you missing though,' John felt his anger rising past his usual breaking point, Singer and Murphy will pay for that when he gets back but for now he has to concentrate on Dean.

Dean blinked and tried to focus on his father's face but he seemed to be getting further away, 'D-Dad?' he whispered as his eyes rolled back and he collapsed bonelessly into his father's arms.

Just as John gathered Dean into his arms, the acrid stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils and he turned to see the entire house succumb to the licking flames and dense smoke of fire.

Caleb trotted over with a bit of a shit-eating grin, 'so they'll find some interesting body posing when they find them.'

'Nice Caleb, always thought that you were a pyromaniac at heart,' John grinned, 'let's get back to Bobby's I really want to hear their reasons for not telling me the truth … well the whole truth.' He added looking down at his unconscious son cradled in his arms.

TBC