Hey all! Thanks for the reviews... I think it will stay a multiple POV... so, hope you don't mind me doing this?
And... yeah... well... and somehow this story can't decide who's more to pity... well, let's whump some, shall we??? -grins evilly-
John had stopped counting the times he'd dialed Dean's number only receiving the voice-mail, telling him to leave a message. With each passing minute his anguish grew. With a growl he stopped on the shoulder of the road, getting out of the car, he kicked the tire to release some of his tension and then slumped against the backdoor, running his hand through his hair.
His eyes darted to the night-sky with its twinkling stars and the bright full moon. It all seemed so peaceful, but still… all his senses told him that something had happened.
It was a strange feeling of déjà vu. Not the usual one you get, when you see places or people or relive situations. It was a feeling of déjà vu relying only on his feeling of despair and dread at the moment. His eyes darted back to the full moon. And John remembered…
SPNSPN
John was exhausted. He sat beside the hospital-bed of his oldest, his baby-boy sleeping in his arms.
Sammy had been beyond terrified. He had flinched at John's touches, only looking up at him with huge frightened eyes, until he'd been so worn out, that he fell asleep.
A mute knock, let John straighten in his chair. And a tired smile crept on his features as Bobby Singer entered the room, two cups of coffee in his hand.
"Here ya go!" he placed the cup beside John, sitting down on the second chair, running his hand over his face.
"How're the kids doing?" he asked quietly.
John looked over to the bed, where Dean slept on.
"Dean's doing fine, well... Doc said he has a moderate concussion and he'll be sore for a few weeks. I saw his right side. It's all bruised starting on his shoulder and ending on his hip. But he's tough... I still would do everything to get my hands on these sons-of-bitches…" John trailed off, remembering the second he had seen the blood-smear on the wall.
"Sammy's… he was afraid of me. He flinched at my touches and… For god's sake! He… he's just a small boy. What the hell happened?"
Bobby swallowed and nodded slowly.
"Yeah, sometimes things get out of hand... and it's not always the supernatural that what threatens you... I think you need to know John..." He said, leaning back in his chair and started to explain:
"The man who took your baby-boy was one Pastor Elkin. He was a misled man... He had this obsession with demonic children."
John seemed to get rigid at those words.
"Demonic children?" he asked back. His eyes fell down on the sleeping child in his arms.
"And what has Sammy to do with it?"
"Elkin was a medium, a prophet. He had the talent to let everything make sense with his charisma. I was there as he told his follower about his latest vision; about his legacy. I heard the name "Winchester" and I just knew it was you.
I tracked you down, but it was almost too late. Daniel, a friend of mine is with the police. So I made a call and asked for help. I knew Elkin needed to kill the child on holy grounds. And that's where we found your boy, barely in time.
John, this crazy bastard wanted to impale your boy…"
…
He felt something wet drip on his face, letting him jerk slightly. Another drop landed on his face and he felt the liquid run down his forehead, tickling him on its way, running behind his ear and into his hair. He tried to open his eyes, but it took a couple of attempts for him to succeed. He felt exhausted and spent as he finally managed to pry them open. The first sensation that hit him was pain. It started from his right temple and ran along his jawline. Groaning, he blinked, as suddenly his nostrils where assaulted by the coppery smell of blood. He shrank as another drop landed on his forehead and his eyes came to a rest on the thing that was dangling above him.
His breath caught as his vision finally cleared enough for him to see what was hanging over him.
He started to wriggle, only to find his wrists and ankles were bound and he wasn't even able to cry out his brother's name against the gag.
It was Dean who was hanging above him, upside down. His head right above Sam's, his arms spread and bound to the inverted cross.
And it was Dean's blood that dropped down on his face.
Sam felt suddenly lightheaded as he tried in vain to control his breathing again. He felt his stomach churn and swallowed as bile started to rise.
"Demonic boy's going to puke?" Sam hadn't heard anyone and flinched as the guy that towered suddenly above him removed the gag. He gulped in deep breaths of air, willing his stomach to settle.
The world tilted as he was grabbed and pulled to his feet, his head falling forward at the sudden change in altitude. Another set of arms took him from the first and hot, foul breath ran down his neck, letting his skin crawl.
"How do you like the décor?" the voice hissed.
Sam felt his knees give away, as he could see his brother's face.
Dean seemed to be semi-aware. His eyes stared unblinking and unseeing in his direction; his face was red and swollen because of the long time he already hung upside down.
"Don't worry Sammy. He's only here to add to the mystic feeling. You're the attraction. Prepare him!" the voice whispered into his ear.
Sam was pushed back into the arms of the second goon.
He was slowly led to the ground again and felt another wave of terror run over him, as he heard the unmistakable sound of a knife snapping open. Still his eyes remained on the still form of his brother as they slowly closed and unconsciousness took him.
He never felt the knife cut through the rope that bound his ankles and wrists...
TBC...
Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!!!