Lest We Forget
Summary
The brothers lose more than just their way when investigating missing hikers - Who would have thought that something so small could cause so much trouble?
Disclaimer
All the speculation and the secret is…yup they belong to me hahaha…oh alright, pouts, no they don't. Supernatural is still the property of that evil genius Kripke and the CW who seriously NEED TO ADVERTISE MORE….
Author's Note
Thanks to anyone who has reviewed so far. I will reply to them now that ffn is playing nice. Hoping you like this chapter. I have my doubts but my Beta convinced me to post - What would I do without her! So a special thanks to Beist!
Warnings
The boys are swearing again – sorry there's just no controlling them…
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Lest We Forget – Chapter 4 - Goblin, Ghoul and Gizmo
Another shot rang out and Dean dove side wards and he felt the bullet skim past his left leg.
"Dammit Sam, put the freakin' gun away."
Sam had stopped giggling and was gazing intently at the ground to the left of Dean.
"Ugly" He whispered.
"Dude, did you just call me ugly? Now that's going too far...not to mention being blatantly wrong…" Dean rose back to his feet.
"Dead." Sam giggled and Dean stiffened.
"What are you talking about?"
"The Ugly – it's dead." Sam waved his hand in Dean's general direction. Unfortunately it was with the hand that was still holding the gun. Dean flung himself back on the ground as another shot rang out.
"De?"
"Yes Sam?" He snapped, this was getting old.
"What ya doing on the ground?"
Man he was going to swing for the kid in a minute. Cautiously he looked at Sam who was watching him through the flames, a goofy smile lighting his face.
John was taking advantage of Sam being distracted by Dean and was creeping up on the far side of the youngest Winchester. He was obviously trying to get within striking distance in which he could disarm the young hunter.
Sam stiffened, his smile falling from on his lips and spun, the gun held unsteadily but accurately enough to make John pause. The gun was level to his chest.
Sam's head was tilted to one side. "I don't trust you. Stay away from me!" He muttered, his expression darkening.
A brief flash of something akin to pain flickered across John's face and he held his hands out placatingly.
"I'm your father Sam."
"Says you!"
"Stop being childish boy!" John snapped.
Way to win him over Dad, Dean thought, surprised at how easily the term now came to him. "Sam…" His brother ignored him. "Sammy…" Sam turned wide brown eyes towards Dean. "Did you find your backpack?"
He looked confused and then smiled. "Yes"
Dean waited then sighed…"Where is it?"
"The Uglies took it."
"The Uglies?"
"Kinda looked like teeny, tiny trolls. Teeny Tiny Trolls…" Sam started to snigger- "That sounds weird."
You're telling me "He's wasted!" He called to John.
John looked thoughtful, "Sam?" Again he was ignored. "Sammy - tell me what they looked like."
"I told you, teeny tiny trolls!" Dean rolled his eyes, wasted his brother sounded like a petulant five year old.
"How teeny?" John asked, Dean snorted, for some reason he found it funny that the badass marine would say 'teeny'.
Sam frowned for a moment as he considered the question. "Remember Shadow?" John looked confused, then recalled when Sam was about five he had adopted a local mongrel he had found half-starved in Montana. Dean had named it 'Shadow' since it followed the youngest Winchester like one. It was better than the 'Ghoul' that Dean had originally picked out. Shared memory rose in Dean…dumb dog, he muttered but not exactly teeny tiny…god it's contagious…
John put his hand just over knee height – "so big?" Sam nodded. "What else?"
"Teeth."
"What about it's teeth?"
"It had rows of itty bitty pointy teeth" Jesus Sam, Itty bitty? How old are you- 6? "And red eyes."
"Red eyes?" Not good.
"And they were grey and nasty looking."
"They?" Dean picked up.
"There's more than one?" John asked quickly, he should have known, they never travelled alone.
"Lots." Sam replied, looking around rather blearily.
"Great- college boy reduced to lots." Dean muttered. College boy – the words stirring more emotion than memory. A sense of an argument; of loss; of abandonment.
Sam looked owlishly at his brother. "I never left you Dean", he said earnestly, "Would never leave you, I swear." He started to get a little agitated, emotions warring with the memory loss and the morphine.
"Shhhh Sam. – Dad what is it?" John looked concerned and was glancing around as if he was expecting an attack at any minute.
"Goblins"
"You're making this up now aren't you old man?"
"No son. Goblins, gremlins, trolls – they're all real. Not common, at least not anymore. The destruction of natural habitats and the expansion of cities mean that they have been virtually forced into extinction. Though they are adapting. Gremlins for instance have taken to technology like a fish to water really."
"Evolution" Sam nodded sagely and fell over. The two other hunters ignored him. "Gizmo!" he called from the ground.
His father nodded, "Yes Sam gizmo, gadgetry, they seem to have a natural aptitude for it all"
"No Dad" Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation, "Gizmo – the cute one from Gremlins."
"Didn't Dean used to call you that Sammy?" John mused.
Dean smiled in fond remembrance. "Yeah, he was a sweet kid until you tried to bath him. Just add water and he turned into a monster unless he had that Lock Ness bath toy you gave him. Even then, he used to destroy the bathroom."
"If I recall that was down to both of you having water fights and pretending to vanquish water demons and sprites."
"We had to practice somewhere" Dean responded straight-faced. "So, Goblins. Are they dangerous?"
"Only if you don't like being eaten." John said with a grin.
"You have a sick sense of humour."
""Oh I have my moments." John turned serious. "What I don't understand is how Sam can see them."
"He's hallucinating – c'mon Dad, he's stoned, - his mind is conjuring up fairy tales."
"Possibly, but his description is accurate. " He paused. "Maybe it's the morphine."
"That's what I just said."
"No Dean, maybe it's because Sammy's reality is distorted by the drugs - that could be how he is seeing them. Goblins aren't invisible; they just use a form of telepathy to mask reality. They basically trick your mind into thinking there's nothing there. And given that trying to get a foothold in Sam's mind at the moment will be like trying to grasp mist…how much morphine was in the kit?"
"2 more syringes."
"Right, we'll have to keep Sam drugged up. He can be our eyes."
"Whatever happened to how we were always supposed to say no?"
"We have to use the resources available to us."
"Are you sure you're our Dad, or even a Dad for that matter?" Dean muttered, a little taken aback by how at ease John seemed to be in using his son tactically.
"What?"
"Nothing…so Morphine Sam stays?"
"Unfortunately."
"Man…" Dean groused.
"De?"
"Yeah?"
"Stay very, very still." Sam muttered,
"Crap – is there one of those things nearby?"
"What things?" Dean counted to ten.
"Goblins"
"There's no such thing as Goblins" OK so it was going to be one of those conversations. "The trolls Sam"
"I'd think you'd see a troll Dean- I mean it's huge!"
"No, one of your teeny tiny ones." Dean growled. Sam sniggered.
"What?"
"You said teeny tiny too"
"So?" Dean asked, this was frustrating. "Is. There. A. Teeny. Tiny. Troll. Here."
"No"
"So why did you tell me to stay still."
"To see if you would." Sam giggled rather sleepily, curled and rested his head on his arm and closed his eyes almost contentedly.
"I'm gonna kill him." Dean muttered. "Are you laughing?" He said to John.
"Who me? I was just coughing Dean, it's the damn damp night air – I'm not exactly a spring chicken son." He quickly changed the subject. "Go get your brother up – he needs to keep lookout"
Dean slowly approached Sam who was still smiling though obviously asleep. "Wake up Rapunzel."
"Rapunzel?" John looks in astonishment at Dean.
"He's a girl, we're in a blatant enchanted forest, and the hair…" as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And if anyone called Grimm turns up, I'm shooting the bastard…"
Just amazed you know the story."
"What a locked tower holding a hot virg- um never mind"
Should have known, John shook his head, something has been screwing with his boys memories but nothing else had changed…
Sam let Dean pull him to his feet. "We going home now?"
"Yeah Sam"
"Where is it?"
"Where's what Sam?"
"Where's home?" Dean's blank and confused look prompted John to answer.
"We don't have a home Sam."
"Why?" Out of all of Sam's questions, that was the one he always dreaded most. He guiltily remember that he had let Dean field most of the why's and how's.
"We move around a lot Sammy – hunting."
"Hunting what?" Damn…
"Hunting things that hurt people, things like that troll."
"Oh."
"Dad?"
"Yes Sam?"
"Where's mom?" Shit…
"She died Sammy, a long time ago."
"Was she sick?"
"No Sammy, she died in a fire."
"A monster killed her didn't it?" A look of confused guilt flashed across the younger hunters face.
A monster…"Yes" John sighed, a monster was a good enough description of the demonic bastard that had taken Mary from him.
"Why?"
"Enough of the twenty questions Sam!" John snapped.
Sam withdrew, a hurt expression on his face, "I only want to remember, to understand…" He whispered.
"I know son but now's not the time. I'll tell you the whole story later."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Cross your heart and hope to die?"
"Don't push your luck Sam." John walked ahead to scout the terrain then motioned for his sons to move out.
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"I don't think Dad likes me Dean." Sam looked a lot younger than his years, except his eyes – wise, expressive eyes barely containing a yearning for their father's approval, an awareness of just how far he was falling short of achieving it.
"Why do you say that?"
"I keep making him mad." Sam looked down, shuffling his feet, his whole posture again making him look young.
"Dude I get the feeling he was born mad."
"I ask too many questions."
"You could be right Sam." Dean sighed.
"Don't you like me either Dean?" The plaintive expression tore into the elder brother; the least it deserved was an honest response.
"I hardly know you." Sam looked like he had just kicked him and turned wide puppy dog eyes on his brother and Dean could see pain and betrayal in their wounded depths.
"I'm sure I like you Sam." He patted his brother's arm awkwardly. "I mean would I be out in the middle of nowhere with you if I didn't like you?" That sounded all kinds of wrong in Dean's mind.
Sam looked at him with suspicion. "You might be trying to get rid of me."
"Don't be stupid dude."
"You left me with the troll." Dean flinched.
"I had no choice Sam, you were the one who told me to go remember, and anyway who shot at whom here?"
Sam did remember though not the campfire – he remembered Dr Ellicott and the asylum.
"Oh god Dean, I never meant it, any of it, I swear."
"What the hell are you on about Sam?"
"It wasn't me, you have to believe me - it wasn't me!" Sam was becoming frantic, his eyes pleading for his brother to forgive him a crime he didn't even remember.
Dean shook his head bemused. "But Sam – you missed"
"I shot you in the chest Dean, in the asylum, with a shotgun!"
"Dude you're starting to sound like Cluedo."
But Sam wasn't smiling. He was starting to hyperventilate, full-blown panic was setting in and he widened his eyes as he backed away.
"I tried to kill you, I was so angry, but it wasn't me!"
"Sam you're not making any sense."
Tears spilled from Sam's eyes as he began to sob in earnest.
"Sam look at me." Sam looked anywhere but.
"Sammy" Dean shook his brother, frustrated.
"Ow."
"Sorry Sam, look we can talk about this later but now you have to calm down. Don't fall apart on me now little brother, ok? For me?"
"Ok De." Sam hiccupped.
"Is you're shoulder hurting?" Sam nodded. His brother was becoming more lucid and his face more pain-pinched. From his flushed and too hot face, he looked to be adding a fever from the infection to the mix. Damn he should have realised earlier. The low was obviously the fall from the previous Morphine high.
"We might as well top up your morphine, it must be wearing off. " He called to their father. " Dad? How much?"
"Half a vial" John called back.
Dean took out a clean syringe and gave his brother half a dose.
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"Now Sam, we need you to watch out for Goblins" Was he really saying that? God that sounded surreal.
"Ok." Sam's face began to assume the dreamy expression from earlier. His eyes glazed and the stoned grin was getting a little disconcerting. "De?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I have my gun back?"
"No."
"Don't you trust me?"
Coming from the man who 2 minutes ago confessed to shooting me with a shotgun in the chest? But…"You I trust Sam, it's just your aim when stoned that I don't."
"How will you know where to shoot?"
"You'll just have to tell me."
" Right, as that'll work well. Hey Dean, remember when you nearly shot Dad cos you mixed your left from your right?" Sam spoke deliberately loud and John turned to shush but had to bite back a grin at his eldest's horrified expression.
"No, because that never happened bitch."
"It so did…Dad's face…" Sam started to snigger. "You used to confuse your left from your right for years…" Dean's face flushed with embarrassment and mortification… Sam has to be winding me up…
"Sammy, stop taking advantage of your brother's memory loss." John called over, amused but needing for the boys to concentrate. Now was not the time to lose their focus.
They went a few more yards. "De?"
"What?" Dean almost snarled, his temper starting to wear thin.
"Can I have my knife back then?"
Dean mentally weighed the pros and cons of giving Sam his knife. Yes, there was the danger of Sam cutting himself while out of it however he did not like the thought of leaving his brother defenceless should anything happen to him or their Dad.
"Sure kid." He handed Sam a knife from John's supplies.
"This isn't my knife dude."
"It'll have to do."
"I want my knife."
"You'll have to find your pack then."
"Mine's cooler than this one." Sam muttered.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist Francis."
Sam stuck his tongue out at his brother.
"Nice…real mature bro…"
Sam gave him a different gesture.
"Don't make me come over there and kick your ass Sam."
"You and whose army?" Were they really getting this childish, but Dean couldn't help grinning.
"I don't need an army."
"You probably couldn't reach anyway." Sam muttered, smirking.
"Scuse me?"
"Dad would have to find a box or stepladder or something for you!" Before Dean could retort though, Sam's expression changed. He was no longer looking at Dean, the half stoned grin that had been hovering over his features, vanished.
"Dean?" Dean noticed his brother's glazed intent look.
"You see them?"
"Yeah-"
"How many?" he mouthed, Sam held up one hand 5 fingers splayed. Crap – five.
The two teasing brothers had seamlessly morphed from joking siblings to serious, if stoned in Sam's case, hunters. The change was remarkable and drew John's attention to them. He looked questioningly at Dean. Dean made an encircling motion with one hand and mimicked Sam's gesture to let him know how many.
"Two o'clock Dean." Sam muttered…"Ten yards." Dean fired; he looked at Sam who shook his head. Unfortunately the morphine was also affecting his judgement; it felt as though he was trying to focus through a fluffy haze. "Short by about 6 inches. " Dean fired again, this time eliciting a grin of triumph from his brother. "Left Dean, five feet." Sam called out excitedly. This was fun – it's like an arcade game! Dean fired again, another good shot on target given Sam's whoop of glee. Sam's face suddenly fell.
"What's wrong?"
"There's more of them"
"How many more"
"Lots"
Shit. "Dad we have a problem!" John quickly headed in their direction.
Sam was backing away; the comfortable warmth of the morphine combined with the rising fever was making it difficult for him to concentrate and to keep a hold on to his emotions, which were fast becoming turbulent and uncontrollable.
"It's okay Sam."
"No it's not."
"Stay calm kiddo."
"I think they know I can see them."
"Why do you say that?"
"They just ran straight past Dad and are heading for us." Sam suddenly lunged at his brother, the knife flashing in his hand. It buried into something on Dean's shoulder millimetres from his throat.
Dean felt something damp on his shoulder. That had better be blood and not anything else the creature passes when it dies. "Goblin?" he said weakly.
"It was going for your throat." Sam grinned as he glanced around, "Didn't think you'd like a 'Supernatural Hickie'…"
Dean smirked back…"What can I say, I'm irresistible. Where next?" His smile froze in place when he realised that Sam was no longer looking at him but over his shoulder.
Sam pushed Dean hard to one side and the elder brother smacked off the tree winding himself badly. In their brief contact though Sam had managed to lift his gun from Dean. Jesus was this kid the Artful Dodger or something?
"What are you doing Sam?" Dean said warningly.
Sam simply backed away hurriedly – he paused and shot at something at Dean's feet.
"Tag! You're it!" He hollered, turned and ran.
Stupid bastard is leading them away, I'm gonna kill him…Dean thought as he ran after his brother, John close on his heels.
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So, did this suck out loud? Please read and review and let me know…
Thanks for reading!
"Holy Chase Scene Batman"
Batman ignores him
"Holy Stoned Hero Batman"
Silence
"Holy Petulant Superhero Batman – are you still ignoring me"
"You put the fire out Robin."
"You nearly blew up the car Batman!"
"It was a good fire too."
"Dean would have shot you Batman"
"He'll probably shoot you when he finds out exactly how you put the fire out Robin."
"It wasn't like we had any water." Robin looks uncertain, then fearful then backs away….
"Was quite impressed Robin – just exactly how much did you have to drink before we started on this epic adventure?"
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