Chapter Sixteen

Author's note - Hey there guys! I'm so sorry for the ridiculous amount of time it's taken me to upload this chapter. Life has been crazy busy but im pleased to announce that this years exams are now over for me and so I can focus more of my energy on finishing this story. Yay! Anyways, to all those who are still reading this fic, thanks for sticking with it, you awesome, impossibly patient people! =D

To Sam's great disappointment, it turned out porridge was nothing like a granola bar. Where the bars were hard and chewy and sweet, Sam's bowl was full of something wet and strangely lumpy with only the vaguest taste of honey to sweeten it.

He spooned it down, regardless. He was starving after all, in the most literal sense of the word, and the warm mush really did help to fill him in a way that left him feeling both revitalized and content.

Jodie left him part way through the meal, explaining that she had other patients to attend to but that she would come back to check on him every now and again.

Which was just fine by Sam, it gave him more time to think things through. He was still reeling from the news that John Winchester was his father. His father! A hunter that he despised only a little less than Gordon, someone who almost certainly returned the negative feelings, was the same man that his Mom had fallen in love with all those years ago.

And according to John and the others, his Mom had once been human. That fact was even harder to swallow than the one about his parentage. She had been human and pregnant with him when she was turned, which consequently turned him too, at least half way.

After Sam had scraped his bowl clean and downed his glass of water, he set the tray aside and picked up the old picture of his Mom again. John probably hadn't meant to leave it behind but he had and Sam was a firm believer of 'Finders, keepers'. The photo was his now.

He was again stuck by a sense of longing and homesickness as he stroked a thumb over his Mom's blond curls.

He had been away from home for far too long. And his Mom must have been beside herself with worry. Did she even know he was alive or would she believe him dead as Commander Orlov and the other soldiers probably did. He desperately hopped it wasn't the latter.

"I'll find a way to come back to you, Mom. I promise."

Exactly how he was going to do this, he was unsure. He was being held prisoner by his enemies and his supposed allies wanted him dead but he would find his way back to her, even if it killed him.

There was a quiet knock at the door and he hastily stuffed the photo back under his pillow as whoever it was inched the door open without waiting for a response.

His chest tightened when he saw Dean's head poke through the gap, eyes scrunched tightly closed. Sam had a feeling he was in for yet another uncomfortable family discussion and he wasn't sure he was ready for that just yet.

"You decent?" Dean asked, popping one eye open to ascertain the answer for himself.

After spying a fully dressed Sam sitting on the bed, he opened his other eye and grinned. "Oh good, you are. There's nothing more awkward than walking in on another dude when he's still in his birthday suit."

"That's why you wait for them to reply before walking right in, Dean. Gah, you're so annoying." Adam piped up from somewhere behind his older brother. "Hi Sam." A small hand suddenly shot through the remaining space of the open door and waved vigorously in front of Dean's face.

"Eugh," Dean batted the hand away in irritation. "And you say I'm the annoying one?"

Sam smirked. This was why he'd always wanted a brother. So he could have someone to lovingly poke fun at and engage in friendly banter, without fear of being slapped upside the head like he did whenever he tried to (good-humouredly) mock Benny.

"Well, are you just going to sit there and gawk or are you going to come with us?" Dean asked, interrupting his reverie.

"What?"

"We're breaking you out." Dean explained. "Well, no, not really, but Adam and I wanted to go out for a walk and we figured you could do with some fresh air. You feel up to it?"

Sam couldn't stand up fast enough. His quick answer of "Yes," sounded just short of desperate, even to his ears.

Dean moved to let Sam out and clapped a welcoming hand on his shoulder as he passed. "You're looking better."

"So are you," Sam replied as they started down a corridor that was decorated exactly like the tiled room they had just left.

And he really did. Dean was the very picture of health. If Sam hadn't known any better, he never would have guessed that the hunter was still injured. He walked with a confident swagger and wore a long sleeve flannel shirt that was far too warm for this season but covertly covered up what he needed to hide.

"Has your arm healed yet?"

"The burned one or the one you took a chunk out of yesterday?"

Sam winced and looked away.

"I'm kidding," Dean chortled. "Sorry, that was in bad taste. The bitten one is all on me, I know, but in answer to your question, both are doing fine. The burns are pretty much gone now. I just have an unusually pink arm on one side, and Jodi says that'll fade with time."

"Yeah, but for now he's stuck looking like some strange human – lobster hybrid." Adam snickered, shooting them both a cheeky grin. He was dressed similarly to Dean, Jeans and flannel, but his shirt had short sleeves.

"Loser," Dean muttered but Sam saw him grin too.

Dean opened the door at the end of the hallway and Sam only had a second, as he stepped through, to be surprised that it wasn't locked, when a vice like hand shot out to grip his elbow and keep him in place. Of course, it was guarded instead.

"What in the world are you doing out of your room?" a familiar voice exclaimed.

Sam glanced down and found himself looking at a wide eyed Garth.

"You've got to go back. Right now…" he trailed off when he caught sight of the Winchester brothers. "Dean, what are you doing? You know the orders as well as me. The prisoner is to stay in his room until the Novak princes have decided what to do with him."

Dean shrugged. "Well I guess the orders changed because it was Prince Castiel himself who gave me the go ahead."

Garth faltered. "He did?"

Sam had to admit, he was surprised as well. He hadn't spent all that much time with the werewolf but going off what little interaction they'd had, 'considerate' wasn't really a word Sam would have used to describe the prince.

"Of course he did. You really think I'd just take his prisoner out and about without asking his permission first?" Dean snorted. "I'm not that stupid."

Garth still looked uneasy but in the end agreed to let them pass.

They managed to make it to the front doors without any other incident. They received some questioning looks from a few of the people milling around and scathing glares from others but no one else confronted them.

The rush of exhilaration Sam felt when he saw the exit in sight was almost laughable. He felt like a kid again, overly excited just because he was allowed to go outside to play.

He was just about to open the doors when Adam stopped him.

"Wait, I brought you something." He rummaged behind a large, leafy plant in the corner of the room for a moment before pulling out something long and black, with a sleek, curved handle.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You got me an umbrella?"

"Yeah, I don't know how long we'll be outside but last time you got burned real bad. This should help." Adam grinned from ear to ear, looking incredibly pleased with himself and Sam's heart melted a little.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, as he took the proffered item. It actually would be handy to keep around.

He didn't need it straight away. His human side protect him for a while but Adam just stood there, waiting expectantly and Sam knew he wasn't getting outside until he used his gift.

With an internal sigh, he opened up the umbrella. It was big enough to fit about three of him under there.

Adam's smile became impossibly wider and then together with Dean, they stepped out into the sunshine.

They had been walking for around half an hour by the time they reached a small wooded area that offered them natural protection from the sun and the heat. They made small talk the whole way, telling each other about their favourite foods, their interests, hobbies and their dislikes. And whenever there was a lull in the conversation, Adam would jump in and regale them both with a story from his childhood. They usually involved him playing some sort of prank on some poor, unsuspecting person and getting away scott-free each time because everyone thought it was Dean.

Dean didn't seem to mind. "I got my own back eventually." He told Sam conspiratorially. "A little bit of Nair in his shampoo and the temporary cue ball never tried to frame me again."

The outing was fun but as much as Sam enjoyed himself, he couldn't help but think that they were skirting around the big issue, none of them wanting to be the first to bring it up.

They hiked their way through the trees for a little while longer before they came to a sudden stop.

"Here we are," Dean announced. "Our home away from home. Adam and I used to come here all the time when we were younger. Sometimes it's nice to just get away from the rest of the world."

Sam was still looking for this 'home away from home' when Adam moved some dense underbrush aside to reveal a little alcove, sheltered completely by low hanging branches and thick, thistly bushes.

"Mind your head," Dean warned him before crawling in first.

It was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. It reminded Sam of being in one of the five-man tents they used back in the army. Of course, this tent would shred your skin open if you tried to touch the sides but it was more or less the same.

It was circular in shape and fit the three of them easily, although standing was impossible. Even Adam, who was a whole two feet smaller than the others, was unable to stand up completely straight in there.

Once they were all sat down, Dean looked Sam straight in the eye, all former joviality seemingly gone. "So, Sam, we need to talk."

Sam barely supressed the urge to gulp. This was what he was afraid was going to happen. "Yeah," he managed to croak out. "I guess we do."

"I know my dad went to see you last night." Dean started. "I know this because he told me. Which was weird 'cause usually, Dad never tells me anything, always has that lone wolf thing going on. But last night I found him on his bedroom floor, curled up around a bottle of whisky and completely out of his head. He gave up drinking two years ago, Sam, so I knew something was wrong right away."

Sam's heart sank, remembering the vicious glee he had felt when he hurt the man enough to send him running from the room.

"I'm not blaming you," Dean quickly added when he saw Sam's drooping expression, which only added to half-vampire's guilt. "I'm just letting you know that this whole situation has him wrecked.

Anyway, I managed to coax the information out of him and he told me everything. He told me the truth about Mary, my Mom, who I thought had died when I was just a kid. He told me how she was your Mom too." Dean paused to take in a shaky breath, he eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He told me we were brothers."

Sam nodded slowly. "It would seem that we are."

A strained silence followed his remark.

"Well," Adam said eventually. "Welcome to the family, I guess."

The tension in the air lessoned considerably after that and both Sam and Dean huffed out a small laugh.

"I just can't believe it," Dean breathed. "Dad never told us that we had another brother, or that my Mom was still alive."

"I get the impression that he didn't know either. At least not for sure." Sam said before mentally kicking himself. He needed to be careful or he was going to sound like he was defending the older hunter.

"Can you tell me about her? Can you tell me about Mom?"

Sam thought for a moment, wondering what he could possibly say that would even begin to remotely describe his mother. "She's amazing," he settled with in the end. "She has this ability to make you feel better, even if you've just had the worst day imaginable, purely by being in the same room as you. She's a great cook too, even though she doesn't get all that many chances to cook anything since she started living in the City. And she's feisty. No one ever dares mess with her because they know she'll give as good as she gets."

"She sounds awesome," Dean grinned.

"She is - " Sam started but broke off as a sudden howl pierced the air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end a sick feeling of Déjà vu washed over him in a cold wave. He knew that howl anywhere.

"Aw Crap," Dean muttered.

"Aw crap?" Sam questioned, very much on edge now.

"Dean, you did get Prince Castiel's permission to bring Sam here, right?" Adam asked quietly. "That's what you said."

"Yeah, I may have stretched the truth a little for Garth's benefit."

"How much is a little?" Sam whispered harshly.

"Fine, I didn't ask him at all, okay? But. I mean, it's not as if I let you escape or anything. We just went for a walk. There's no harm in that."

There was another howl, this time closer and followed by a series of angry snarls, and Sam couldn't help but shrink back at the sound, ignoring the thorns that snagged at the back of his t-shirt.

"I'm dead." He groaned.