The Nutcracker.
Summary. . . . . . Trying to bring an ill Sam some Christmas cheer, Dean unwittingly places his brother in danger.
Disclaimer. . . . . . Still only loaning the guys, I promise to return them, I just can't guarantee it will be in one piece.
A.N. . . . . . . . Sorry about the wait, work has been a bee-atch this week, and the site is giving me a bit of trouble too, for some unknown reason I haven't had any alerts since Wednesday, weird. I hope that the chapter makes up for the wait, thanks as always for reading, catch you later, Peanut x
Dean's eyes roamed the crowd as they left, his mind taking snapshots of all the faces hoping that something would stand out about one of them, that somehow he would be able to spot the person that had scared Sam so. That act though proved fruitless, the crowd vast and so. . . . . .so normal looking with their happy, smiling faces and their newly bought expensive Christmas clothes, probably purchased especially to watch the show. A saddened expression crossed his face as he realized that yet again this year Sam would have to make do with hand me downs, either Dean's or ones bought cheaply from charity shores. He hated the fact that this play was the one bit of fun, the one bit of Christmas cheer he could provide for his brother, hated the fact that even that gesture had failed.
In his disappointment, he gripped Sam's arm more tightly than he intended to eliciting a small groan from his little brother, and increasing the disappointment he felt in his himself tenfold. Releasing his grip, yet still maintaining a solid hold on Sam, Dean mumbled an apology refusing to look at his brother's eyes, unwilling to view the disappointment he felt would surely be there, and made his way further into the mall and away from the stage. As the crowds got bigger and the stores reappeared, Dean could feel Sam start to relax beside him; and could feel the tension leave his own body as a result. He pulled Sam to one side as security and paramedics rushed passed them, his eyes following them for a few seconds, as his ears picked up the faint sounds of screaming coming from where the stage was set up. Instantly curious h went to turn back to take a look, until a slight tug on his arm changed his mind, and he looked down on Sam; his brothers hand held out and hope gleaming in his eyes.
Sam felt the guilt begin to take hold as they made their way down the row of chairs, ignoring the grumbles and expletives from the other viewers. He could feel it bubble and boil in his stomach making him feel altogether nauseous, miserable and stupid at the same time. That feeling increasing as he felt Dean's hand constrict around his arm, eliciting a wince of pain to escape, making him feel even worse; Dean must be mad at him, must be disappointed in him, and that was the one thing in this world that Sam feared most. Vowing to figure a way to make things up to his brother, Sam trudged obediently along feeling totally despondent.
The further they travelled away from the stage, the looser Sam felt his muscles become, his nerves that had been so taut, settling and the happiness that he had been feeling when they first arrived at the mall returning, although the fear that he had disappointed Dean remained, along with that nagging doubt that something else was here, watching, waiting. He berated himself , considered himself stupid, silly, a baby even for getting so worked up; worked up over nothing really, as no signs of danger had appeared. The more he thought about it, the more he could even excuse the guy who had waved at him, he was after all a performer who had spent his life getting paid to play to the crowd.
As he began to feel better, he started to feel more guilty about leaving, about spoiling Dean's surprise for him. He thought again about ways to make things up to his brother, the brother he loved more than life itself, his face lighting up with a huge smile as he remembered the left over money he had after buying Dean's gifts. Putting his hand in his pocket he pulled out the lint covered coins and the crumpled up worn bills, and mentally counted them. It wasn't much, but maybe it would be enough to start making amends. Tugging on Dean's jacket, he waited for him to look his way, and with his hand stretched out and hope in his eyes he asked.
"Do you want to get something to eat? Maybe a burger, it'll be my treat?" The smile on his face began to falter as Dean just looked at him with what Sam's young mind took to be displeasure written all over his face. Tears began to burn his eyes as he fought to contain them. Had he really upset Dean that much?
Dean looked down at Sam's outstretched hand, anything to get away from that pleading look in his eyes. He couldn't even understand why that look was even there, why was Sam not disappointed in him? He was so caught up in his thoughts that he failed to hear Sam's words, failed to see Sam's mood change once again. He was pulled back to reality as he felt Sam's hand drop from his arm, his own eyes finally taking in the money gripped in Sam's other hand. Looking back at his brother, Dean's heart broke at the look of pure sadness that radiated from him, remorse yet again worming it's way inside of him that he was the one that had put that sadness there. His mind catching up, he realized that Sam had spoken and being to caught up in his thoughts he had missed the words. Clearing his throat, he inquired.
"Sorry Sam, what did you say?"
Refusing to look Dean in the eyes, Sam stammered his reply, the last words barely audible. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to get something to eat? But it's okay if you don't. It's okay if you just want to go home. It's okay if you're mad at me."
Dean's stomach dropped. Sam thought he was mad at him, why? He'd have to get to the bottom of that later, for now though he knew he had to get Sam smiling again. Pushing to the back of his mind the fact that Sam's money would be better spent on necessities that would keep them eating until their Dad came back, he plastered a smile onto his face, lifted Sam's had gently until their eyes met, and replied. "Lets do kiddo, you know me, I'll never refuse an onion slathered burger." Maybe by agreeing to this he could kill two birds with one stone; cheer Sam up, and find out what happened earlier to scare him so.
With all the confusion that occurred as the stage filled with paramedics and security, and the small space filling with screams and sobbing, he found it all too easy to slip away. The smell of the boy was drifting away with each cycle of the circulated air, he needed to get the scent back, he couldn't afford to let him slip away again this vessel was getting bothersome, it's limitations high, he needed a new source of energy, or even better a way to make those limitations disappear; and the boy's essence, the power that burned inside him, was just what he needed.
He moved swiftly, stealthily through the crowd free back corridors, his keen senses quickly picking up the trail again, excitement building inside his solid form when the scent gained in strength and kept on getting stronger. They were still here, they had stopped. He sped up, his need to get within their sights again intoxicating him; his need to taste, if even minutely, the boys soul invigorating him making him less cautious then he should have been, making him take chances, risks that he normally wouldn't. As the boys smell reached it's peak, he crept silently through a door and entered the crowded mall, using anything he could to avoid being seen, figuring out quite quickly that being seen should have been the least of his worries, the crowds so caught up in getting last minute gifts, and fantastic deals they paid no attention to him at all.
Creeping forward he felt a burst of energy as his eyes set sight on the object of his obsession, sat no more than ten feet away. How easy it would be to just snatch the child away, to take him far from here, to lay claim to what he felt was rightfully his, to what he needed. There was just one problem though, and it also sat at the table, protecting the child, wanting the child for itself. Somehow, someway he had to immobilize, to get rid of the protector. He watched as a waitress took their order, a plan forming in his mind.
A.N. . . . . . . . How was it? Too slow? Or still suspenseful? Let me know. Will catch you soon, Peanut x