Chapter 17. No Way
Flashes of white intermixed with disjointed images shot across his vision and Caleb just wished that if he was going to have a vision, it would come already. Just as soon as the pain and white flashes had started, they stopped, throwing him into the vision.
Caleb tried to get his bearings and work out where this vision had taken him. He was on top of a flight of wooden stairs looking down into a room below. He immediately recognized the room from his previous vision. It was where he had seen John die, killed at the hands of a psychotic spirit hell bent on revenge. Only now Caleb knew it wasn't a spirit they were dealing with.
He began moving down the stairs and that's when he noticed that he wasn't alone. He was holding something against him and dragging it down the stairs with him, a person judging by all the struggling, a small person. He dragged the struggling person down the remaining steps roughly. He kept a hand clamped over his captive's mouth.
He could feel Carlson's elation flow through him as he looked over to a slumped form against the right hand side wall. Caleb himself felt queasy at the site of his mentor. The man looked just as beaten and bruised, maybe even more than in the last vision he'd had.
At first he wasn't even sure if John were alive. His eyes were closed and only the sound of his ragged breathing indicated that there was still life left in the older hunter. There was blood still trickling from a nasty cut on his forehead just below his hairline. John's face was red in places and given a day or so he would surely have some spectacular bruises there. The older man's left leg was covered in blood. There was no doubt in Caleb's mind that there were other injuries hidden under the man's clothing.
The small body that was being held against him was released slightly and the hand removed from his mouth. "Dad!" Sam's voice screamed across the room as he saw his father. "Let me go!" he heard Sam scream at his captor, causing the grip on the boys arm to tighten.
"I don't think so Sammy." That was definitely Carlson's voice, of that Caleb was sure.
"Don't call me that!" Sam spat. The boy barely allowed his family to call him that anymore there was no way he was letting Carlson call him by the dreaded name.
"I don't think you're in the position to argue Sammy." Carlson sneered.
John was starting to stir. Hearing his youngest son's angry voice was obviously bringing him around.
"That's it John. It's time to wake up. There's someone here who wants to say hello." Carlson stated happily.
John moaned but blinked his eyes open. The older man was having trouble focusing and apparently John wasn't coming to fast enough for Carlson's liking because the next minute Sam's body was pulled toward him again, this time with his armed pinned painfully behind his back.
"Ahh!" Sam called out in pain and Caleb was so way beyond pissed now.
John tensed at hearing his son's pain filled cry and tried to sit up further using his right arm. It was a mistake. He collapsed back to his former position with his own grunt of pain. The arm would not support his weight and Caleb guessed that it was probably broken.
"Sammy?" Caleb felt angrier at hearing the weak and confused voice of the man he had looked up to for so many years.
"Dad, are you alright?" Sam called out again. Caleb could feel the kids fear. Fear for his father and fear from himself. He could tell the kid was trying to formulate a plan of escape, trying to remember his training in order to get lose but it was no use. Carlson was a lot bigger than the thirteen year old and unlike the sick man Caleb had visited, this Carlson had strength on his side, not to mention the supernatural.
Caleb knew the minute that John woke up to the fact that his tormentor now had his not so gentle hands on his youngest son. John might have been beaten and broken but the man could still give a fierce look. He might have been broken in body but definitely not in spirit.
"How nice of you to join us John," Carlson said making sure to keep a tight hold on the teen in front of him.
"Let … him … go!" John demanded from his position on the floor. His injuries seemed bad enough that the hunter hadn't really moved much. They seemed to be keeping him down. Carlson laughed and tightened his grip even more painfully on Sam's arm, making Sam wince. "What are you going to do if I don't John?"
"I will kill you … now let …" John winced in pain. "… now let him go!"
"I don't think so. You see this …" Carlson shook Sam causing the kid to gasp as pain radiated from the arm that was roughly twisted behind his back. "… this child is an abomination. You defiled Mary when you made her give birth to your filth."
"This is between you and me Carlson!"
"How does it feel to be out of control John? How is it going to feel having someone you love die?" Carlson's voice became menacing.
"Carlson." John warned as he tried to get up, his left leg and right arm pretty much useless. John never to be beaten by his mere body's endurance level managed to awkwardly get up on his good knee. He swayed precariously once at the new height and almost toppled straight back down to the ground. It was probably sheer Winchester stubbornness that kept him upright because John's body was clearly telling him that he'd had enough.
Carlson continued on his rant. "It's fitting though, both of you dying in this house … in your old house. The perfect revenge if I do say so myself." Carlson reached into his pocket with his free hand and John visibly tensed when he saw the serrated knife he had used to cut himself free.
Sam kicked back and connected with Carlson's legs, trying to dislodge the hold he had on him to little affect. John looked desperate now but he also looked like a small wind could knock him over. The hunter was helpless to save his son and that fact was obvious is John's eyes and if there was one thing that John hated it was feeling helpless.
"Let me go you psycho freak!" Sam yelled in frustration.
Carlson ignored the boy instead focusing on John's pained expression. "Say goodbye John. It's more than I ever got with Mary." Carlson flipped the knife one handed so the sharp point was pointing towards Sam's stomach. "Say good bye to Daddy, Sam."
"Carlson!" John panicked and tried to move towards his son. Trying to ignore the pain was doing him a fat lot of good because his body did just not want to co-operate with his mind. He only succeeded in lunging forward and falling to the ground, still too far away from his target. His body had reached past its reserves and the only reason he had managed to get as far as he had was probably due to panicked caused adrenaline.
Carlson dragged Sam backwards out of is fathers reach and lent in close to the boys ear. "Time for you to pay little boy," he whispered and then brought the knife towards them plunging it deep into Sam's stomach, twisting it painfully. A scream erupted from the boy's throat. It was a terrible sound and not something that should ever come from a thirteen year old boy. Carlson smiled at the anguished cry that could be heard from the man still trying to get up off the floor. To Carlson it was beautiful. He had been right to assume that the one way to really hurt John was to not hurt him but hurt his boys. His plan had worked even more wonderfully than he thought it would. But then he hadn't expected the younger boy to turn up literally on the doorstep.
He stood back again and wrenched the knife from Sam's body eliciting a choked scream before releasing the boy and watching him fall hard to the ground. Blood was pouring from the gaping knife wound to the stomach and a look of shock was plastered on his too young face as he groped at the wound. Blood quickly covered his hands.
John looked conflicted on whether he should go after Carlson or go to his son. Sam's panicked, pain filled face and the blood coating his hands and stomach won out quickly. He'd had no luck with combating Carlson previously and in his current condition it was all he could do to drag himself over to his son.
Carlson disappeared from John's site but remained to watch with a smile on his face as the two Winchesters were reunited for the last time.
John reached out to his boy with his good arm, not noticing how much it was shaking. The only thing he could see right now was Sam. "Sammy?" John rasped out fearfully. "Oh God … no …" There was too much blood and it was continuing to flow through Sam's fingers.
"D-Dad?" Sam choked as he felt his father reach for him and awkwardly pull his head into his lap one-handed. "I-I'm … sorry."
John's tear filled eyes widened but he didn't get a chance to reply or ask Sam what he was sorry for. Sam shuddered in his lap before his eyes rolled back in his head.
"No Sammy." John shook his son, not willing to believe that his baby boy was dead. Sam didn't react and the unshed tears that were filling John's eyes were finally released. John placed two shaky fingers at Sam's neck waiting to find a pulse. Sam couldn't be dead but he couldn't find a pulse. "Oh God …" John choked back a sob.
More tears continued to fall although John was not aware of them. The only thing that seemed to register with the oldest Winchester was a new kind of rage. A psychotic spirit had just killed his youngest son in front of him. He was angry that once again he'd had to sit back and watch as someone he loved was ripped from him. He should have been stronger. Losing Mary had been the worse moment in his life but losing one of his own children was a totally different experience. The pain was unbearable.
"So touching …" Carlson wiped at his eyes in mock sadness. "Really John if I had of known that I was going to get such a show I would have brought tissues with me."
John continued to look at the lifeless body of his boy before slowly bringing his hate filled eyes to meet Carlson's.
"Is that look supposed to scare me John?" Carlson asked flippantly.
John was breathing heavily and it was unclear whether that was because of the emotional or physical pain. Maybe it was a combination of both. "I … I am going to kill you." He sounded scarily calm.
Carlson scoffed. "See that's where you're wrong. You couldn't manage to get up and save poor little Sammy and you're not going to do anything to me." Carlson ambled across the length of the room, John tracking his every move while still holding Sam's body with one arm. "Besides … there's nothing you can do to harm me John."
Carlson sighed. "I've had my fun now John. So I'll be nice and let you join your son in hell and don't worry …" Carlson disappeared seemingly into thin air
"I won't forget about your other son." Carlson's voice came from behind him and John didn't have the chance to turn around before a hand was yanking his head back by his hair and the knife, still stained with Sam's blood, was pressed to his throat. "It's time for you to pay John."
White exploded across his vision in flashes. The images of his friend's death became mixed with the flashes until it faded out completely to be replaced with Dean's anxious face.
"Oh God!" No! No way was he letting that happen. He couldn't get the picture of Sam all bloody and lifeless in a distraught John's arms out of his head. Right now he couldn't be happier that Dean wasn't a psychic because that was definitely something that the kid didn't need imprinted in his brain forever. It was going to take a while for Caleb to wipe the images clean from his mind.
"Caleb, what did you see?" Dean's grip on his shoulders was tight. It was obvious that the kid had been stressing about what Caleb had seen in his vision.
"I know where they are." He pushed himself up off the ground, Dean automatically assisting.
"They?"
"Dean, Sammy's in trouble too." Caleb wasted no time in starting towards the Impala, headache pushed to the side.
Dean remained standing where Caleb had left him with a stunned and confused look on his face before jogging after the older hunter.
"Whoa wait a minute! We left Sammy at Missouri's, how could he be in danger?"
The psychic swung around to meet Dean's questioning eyes. "Dean …" Caleb's cell interrupted them and both boys rolled their eyes as Caleb pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Missouri's name was being displayed. Caleb held up one finger signaling for his friend to wait. Dean looked annoyed but he complied.
"Missouri …" Caleb answered. The older psychic cut him off before he could say anything further.
"Caleb … Sam's gone. God I only turned my back for a second to call Jim …"
"Missouri … I know."
"Please tell me he's with you boys."
"No but I know where he will be. I don't have time to explain now."
"I'm sorry. I would never forgive myself if something happens to that damn stubborn boy." Missouri's guilt was coming across loud and clear over the phone.
"We'll call you when we have them." Caleb ended the phone call and looked at his young friend whose unflinching green eyes told him that he wanted to know what the hell was going on and he wanted to know now.
"What's going on man?" Dean demanded.
Caleb rushed around to the driver's side and held his hands out for the keys. Caleb seemed to know something so Dean didn't hesitate throwing the keys over the roof of the Impala into Caleb's waiting hand.
"Come on, we need to go."
"Where are we going?" Dean had still yet to get in the car.
Caleb halted. He wasn't sure how this new information was going to sit with his friend. "Caleb?"
Caleb sighed. "Looks like you're going back home Deuce."
TBC ...
Okay so we are getting there. At least the boys no where they are now ... lets just hope that they get there in time. :-) I love reviews so keep em coming :-)