Chapter Five: So Strange I Remember You

"The School", State Unknown- 1999

Samuel stared down at his breakfast of plain white toast and felt his stomach turn into a bundle of nerves- electrified snakes slithering around through his insides- and wasn't sure he'd be able to eat.

Mr. Lane was coming today.

Most of the other kids were excited, looking forward to showing off their powers.

Samuel wasn't the least bit happy about the man's pending visit. He was afraid every time the man's name was mentioned.

Samuel didn't know what was wrong with him. His powers didn't seem to work as easily as the other kids'. He couldn't really control them and he ended up getting in trouble a lot because of it.

Samuel picked up his piece of toast and began tearing it into bits. All he did was make a fool of himself. How was he supposed to help fight for 'the greater good' if he couldn't control his powers or even figure out what they were?

Most of the other kids had already found and were honing their own special talents under LeGraine and Truefold's tutelage. Max could move objects with his mind, Jacob had superior strength, Charlene could start fires at will, Lillian and Scott could kill with a touch.

And Samuel… well, he had fragmented, unintelligible nightmares that did nothing but scare him.

If he concentrated too hard on using his powers they just dry up and the wellspring refused to flow again until he was distracted or asleep, angry or sad or happy and then they seemed to flood his mind, drowning out everything else until they are quenched.

Samuel has hardly made any progress since Mr. Lane's last visit and that worried him. What if he can't control his powers? What will LeGraine and Truefold do to him if he keeps failing, disappointing them?

Gulping down the lump in his throat, Sam stared down at breadcrumbs scattered on his plate.

"Don't worry, Samuel," he looked up at the mocking sound in Jacob's voice, "I'm sure there's a use for you!"

"Yeah, you could be cannon fodder!" Ansen crowed, smirking, ignoring Andrew as his brother tried to slap a hand over his mouth and smother his words.

Samuel stood up suddenly, feeling his eyes prick with tears, and walked from the kitchen without looking back.

He heard the other kids laughing at him as he hurried down the hallway and out the front door, wrapping his arms around his middle as he stepped into the cool morning air.

What am I doing here? Samuel thought to himself as he crossed the large yard to the barn that stood beside the farmhouse. Why can't I be like the others?

Samuel slipped inside the old barn, breathing in the scents of dry straw, mouse droppings and weathered wood. Walking across the hard-packed floor, Samuel headed straight for the ladder that led up to the hayloft.

The wooden rungs of the whitewashed ladder creaked and groaned under Samuel's weight but they held and he climbs up, poking his head up through the square hole in the ceiling, eyes running over the piles of dusty, dried straw to make sure no raccoon has made itself a nest.

Seeing no disturbances, Samuel pulled himself up and crawled on his hands and knees to a large pile of straw- he was afraid of standing in case the floor gave out- before laying down. He burrowed into the straw and closed his eyes, trying to breathe steadily.

He tried not to think about how much of a disappointment he was, he tried not to count all the times he'd told LeGraine and Truefold that he would do better and then failed, he tried not to be jealous of Max and the others- secure in their abilities- and drifted into a restless slumber.

W

Low voices woke Samuel a short time later. He remained silent and still, listening and immediately recognized LeGraine's voice. Creeping to the edge of the hayloft, Samuel peered down at the two men talking in the barn, unaware of his presence.

Mr. Lane and LeGaine practically have their heads together, speaking secretively.

Samuel held his breath and tried to focus on the men, attempting to hear their muffled words.

"…start thinning the ranks," Mr. Lane informed LeGraine and the other man nodded his head sagely.

Samuel's brow furrowed in confusion; what are they talking about?

Leaning further over the edge of the hayloft, Samuel hoped that Mr. Lane would explain what he's talking about.

LeGraine began to list off names and Mr. Lane shook his head at all of them.

"They're all strong," he said, thoughtful, "Who else?"

Samuel leaned forward even further, angled slightly downwards and the smooth wooden edge of the hayloft slipped from his fingers and he fell, twisting as he went and landed hard on his back. Right in front of the two men.

Pain shot up and down the boy's back and he couldn't pull enough air into his lungs. His vision blurred and turned dark before coming back into focus.

"Samuel!" LeGraine snapped and the boy cringed away at the anger in his voice.

"I'm s-sorry," Samuel wheezed as he struggled to breathe normally.

Hands grabbed the collar of his t-shirt roughly and he was heaved to his feet. Samuel's head swam and he staggered- would surely have fallen- but LeGraine's hands kept him up.

Mr. Lane appeared in Samuel's line of vision and the boy flinched a little at the strange smirk on the man's lips.

Bangor, Maine- 1999

Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he stared eye-to-eye with Samuel. The younger boy didn't speak for a long time and Dean began to think he wasn't going to answer.

"I… "Samuel paused and his brow furrowed, clearly trying to figure out what exactly to say.

Samuel swallowed hard and closed his eyes, "I've been at the school for as long as I remember."

Dean nodded; he did not trust himself to speak. He just listened.

"I don't… I don't remember anything before," Samuel opened his eyes and Dean frowned at the tears pooling in their emerald depths.

"Nothing?" Dean asked, forgetting that he wasn't going to interrupt.

Samuel shook his head and bit his lip. He wasn't sure if he should tell the older boy about his parents- his mother- and how she had abandoned him.

Dean lowered his head and Samuel stared at the older boy's dirty-blond hair confusedly. Maybe he should tell Dean everything. He had already promised that they weren't going to send him back to the school.

SPN

John stared at his journal, the pages opened to an early entry- the date scrawled at the top of the page was 1987- that described a banshee case that had never been completed.

The eldest Winchester rubbed his temples- a headache beginning to form- and thought back to that horrible night in Kentucky; the second worst night of his life, when his little boy was kidnapped right from under his oldest son's nose. John closed his eyes as he envisioned the small, dumpy motel room he'd left his children in Bowling Green.

The hunter felt anger well up in his chest when he recalled Dean's negligence. Despite the fact that he had only been a child himself, Dean had known full-well what was out there and should have been using his head when he left the motel room to get a drink- hell, he could have just had a goddamn glass of water from the plastic cups the motel provided! But Dean had not been thinking about the threats, he had only been thinking about himself and hadn't realized he had smudged the salt line at the door- a seemingly trivial mistake- and had cost his brother dearly.

Tears swam in John's eyes as he thought of what fate had come to his youngest son. He had no idea what the demons intended to do with Sam but he knew that whatever it was, it couldn't be good. John remembered how he had badgered Bobby Singer into telling him whenever and wherever demonic omens occurred for months after the kidnapping, hoping that they would somehow be connected to the monsters who'd taken his son. Eventually, John realized that there was no way he was going to get his little boy back and had instead prayed that at least if Sam was dead, he hadn't suffered long.

John saw his eldest son in a different light from that night onward. He knew he'd never be able to forgive Dean for what he'd done. John stopped trusting Dean. Although John knew he was being unreasonable he couldn't help his feelings. John was aware that Dean took his brother's kidnapping hard and blamed himself but the eldest Winchester could have cared less. No amount of guilt on Dean's part was going to bring Sam back.

And now, with the appearance of this young man- Samuel- everything was being dredged up again.

John just didn't know what to think. Sure the boy's name was exactly the same as his own son's and it was true that they did bear a striking physical resemblance- dark brown hair and green eyes- but the eldest Winchester refused to get his hopes up. He wished that Dean would realize that Sammy was gone, just as Mary was, and accept it.

"The School", State Unknown- 1999

Samuel whimpered when LeGraine shook him angrily. He closed his eyes and tried to pry the man's hands from his shirt.

"What about him?" Samuel cringed at the man's words, "He can barely keep up with the other kids."

"No," Mr. Lane insisted and Samuel stared at the man.

LeGraine sneered, "Why not?"

The other man reached out and put his hand on Samuel's head, "He may surprise us yet."

"Fine," LeGraine sighed and shoved the boy in the direction of the bar doors, "Get out of here."

Samuel didn't have to be asked twice. He rushed out of the barn and into the bright midday sunlight. He trudged around the large red building and saw the other kids playing with a soccer ball in front of the farmhouse, Truefold watching from the sidelines, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

The teen approached the group and stood on the sidelines, watching the game. He shuddered in the warm air, recalling Mr. Lane's eerie smile and wished he knew what the two men had been talking about.

Bangor, Maine-1999

What could he say? Could he tell Dean all about the school? About LeGraine and Truefold? About Max and Ava and Jacob? About Andrew?

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Samuel decided to start with what he knew about his family.

"My mother left me at the school," he said quietly, picturing the woman in his head.

Dean frowned and Samuel was momentarily afraid he'd said something wrong, "But I thought you didn't remember anything?"

"I don't!" Samuel replied quickly, "But LeGraine told me about her."

The older boy's brows furrowed, "Who's LeGraine?"

The foreign, French-sounding name had an odd ring to it.

Samuel shrugged, "He takes care of us… him and Truefold."

Dean nodded as though he understood. So this LeGraine and Truefold ran some kind of orphanage, maybe?

"And the other kids? Did their parents abandon them as well?" Dean asked, because surely there were other children there, even if Samuel had never come out and said it.

"I… I guess so," the younger boy answered uncertainly, "They don't remember their parents either, if that's what you mean."

Dean frowned. None of the children at this so-called school recalled their lives before arriving there? That didn't make sense. Surely some of them would know about their parents, some of them might have been older than Samuel when they arrived, old enough to remember.

"Do you know why your Mom left you at the school? Did LeGraine ever tell you?" Dean asked and as soon as the words were out he knew he had struck a nerve.

Samuel sniffed and shook his head, ducking his chin down.

"No," he responded, sounding tired and Dean knew the younger teen was lying to him.

Realizing that he wasn't going to get anymore answers for a while, Dean stood and stretched.

"Why don't you finish getting changed, okay?" he told Samuel in a kindly voice, hoping the younger boy would relax again.

"Where are you going?" Samuel asked, seeing Dean head toward the door.

"Oh, just next door. I wanna talk to my Dad for a moment," Dean explained casually and Samuel lowered his head.

"Hey," Dean spoke up quietly, "I'll be right back, okay?"

The younger boy nodded and watched as Dean slipped out the door.

SPN

Once outside, Dean wiped a hand over his face and leaned against the door for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts.

He was starting to think that Samuel really didn't have a family to go home to. If that was the case, he would fight his Dad tooth and nail to keep the young man from entering the system and becoming a ward of the state. People were more likely to take infants and toddlers in than teenagers and Dean didn't want to think about the next few years of Samuel's life as one long nightmare of foster homes. Sure, Dean knew there were honest, good, respectable people working with CPS but knowing the Winchester luck- and why shouldn't Samuel be affected by it? It seemed to rub off on everyone Dean and John met- the younger man would land in one bad situation after another.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dean knocked on the door of his father's motel room.

John opened the door and Dean stared at his father. John's eyes were moist and slightly bloodshot, his expression weary.

"Where's Sam?" the eldest Winchester asked, his eyes peering past his son to the empty sidewalk behind him.

"Samuel," Dean corrected immediately and John looked sheepish, "Ah, yes, Samuel. Where's he?"

"In the room, changing into some new clothes," Dean answered in an offhand manner.

"Oh, yeah," John grumbled, "Did you want to talk to me or something?"

Dean grimaced and nodded. His father held the door open for him and Dean entered the room. He caught sight of his father's journal lying open on the table, catching the date at the top of the page and quickly looked away.

"I was talking to Samuel and I think he came from some sort of orphanage," Dean told his father. John raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

Dean nodded, "He said that as far as he knows, his parents just dumped on the doorstep and high-tailed it out of there."

John frowned. Although it wasn't unheard of for young women to leave their unwanted babies on the steps of hospitals, driving all the way to an orphanage seemed a little like overkill.

"So, he remembers that?" John asked his son but was disappointed when Dean shook his head.

"No, Samuel told me that LeGraine- I think he runs the orphanage- told him what his Mom had done," Dean answered.

John narrowed his eyes. Even he couldn't deny the fact that that sounded suspicious.

"Dad, if Samuel's parents really did abandon him, I don't think he'll have anyone to go to," Dean's voice startled his father from his thoughts.

"There has to be an aunt or something," John insisted but even as he said it he knew that was unlikely. If Samuel's parents had relatives- relatives who wanted him- surely they would have taken him in before the boy's mother had made her decision or else traveled to the orphanage and picked him up there.

"Dean, we both know that we can't bring Samuel along with us after this hunt," John said and his son nodded.

"I know that Dad but I am not letting CPS take him to foster care!" Dean exclaimed, "I don't care if he is only two years away from being a legal adult, I can't do that to him!"

John paused, allowing Dean to continue.

"He trusts me, Dad," Dean said, speaking more quietly than during his initial outburst, "Or as much as he can trust me. What do you think they'll do to him if he starts talking about that mysterious school of his?"

John bit his cheek.

"I agree with you," he said slowly, seeing Dean's face light up as he did so.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

John sighed, "I don't think it would be a good idea to hand him into the authorities, he might mention us and we can't let that happen."

Dean sagged somewhat. His Dad was thinking only about their safety and not Samuel's as he'd been hoping.

"We can take him to Bobby's," the decision surprised both Winchesters.

Before John could take it back though, he continued speaking, "Maybe Bobby can figure out more about this orphanage."

Dean nodded eagerly. There was certainly something off with Samuel's story- and it wasn't only the fact that the young man was not telling everything he knew- but Dean knew that if anyone could figure out what was going on, Bobby could. Besides, the older hunter might enjoy the company and it would help Samuel get used to being around other people.

"Thanks Dad," Dean said and John stared at his son; it had been a long time since his eldest son had actually said those words and meant them.

SPN

Samuel ran his hands down his new clothes. The black t-shirt was still a little long- its sleeves came down to his elbows- but he didn't mind. It felt so nice to have clean clothes on. The jeans reached all the way down to his feet and he smiled as he stared down at his feet.

He looked up when he suddenly remembered the shoes Dean had bought for him. Glancing around the room, Samuel realized that they were not there and thought they might still be in the car.

Opening the door, Samuel smiled when he caught sight of the long black car sitting in the parking spot, glinting in the midday sun.

Slipping out onto the sidewalk that ran along the length of the motel room, Samuel paused, suddenly feeling as though someone was watching him.

Staring around the parking lot, he didn't see anyone paying attention to him and the young man moved toward the classic car.

He placed his palm against the handle of the Impala and peered over his shoulder. Samuel shrugged and looked inside the car; he could see the brown shoebox sitting on the bench seat in the back.

The sound of footsteps quickly approaching startled Samuel off guard and he turned, face to face with LeGraine.

"Hello Samuel," the man said and grinned wolfishly.

The young man shrank against the car, hands over his head protectively.

"No! Please!" Samuel cried, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

"It's time to come home now," LeGraine continued, "Truefold and I have been very worried about you."

"I'm not going back! Leave me alone!" The boy shouted in desperation.

Samuel punched the air wildly when he felt a hand on his shoulder, "No! Let me go!"

"Samuel!" He looked up, startled when he only saw Dean Winchester.

The older boy was staring worriedly at him. John was standing on the edge of the sidewalk, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked and Samuel gave a shaky nod.

"We heard you shouting and thought something was wrong," the older boy explained as Samuel wiped his arm across his eyes.

"I thought I saw… never mind," the teen ducked his head in shame, "I just wanted my new shoes."

Dean peered into the Impala and saw that the shoes were in fact sitting on the seat.

"Okay," he said gently and released his hold on the younger man's shoulder. Unlocking the car door, Dean grabbed the shoebox and pulled it out, handing it over to Samuel.

John peered curiously at his son as Samuel walked past him and back into the motel room, eyes seemingly glued to the cardboard box in his hands.

Dean gave his father a helpless look, "I don't know."

The two Winchesters had rushed out of the motel room after hearing their young charge cry out in terror but when they saw him; Samuel was alone, pressed up against the Impala with his hands over his head as though fending off an attack.

"We'll have to keep an eye on him," John said, thoughtfully.

Dean nodded, "I'll go see if he's okay."

He left his father standing in the parking lot, wondering what the heck just happened.

John hoped it would be a good idea to take the young man to Bobby's.

SPN

Dean stifled a yawn and squinted at through the trees at the man-made lake. The rest of the day had gone well, had been uneventful really. He had tried to get Samuel to talk about what had frightened him so badly but the younger man pretended that the entire episode hadn't happened.

Dean decided to drop the issue. He didn't want to make the teen feel more uncomfortable than he already was and instead tentatively told Samuel about Bobby Singer.

The boy had been both curious and hesitant but Dean assured him that the grizzled old hunter was a good friend and kind man.

John had suggested going to the lake themselves and seeing if they could find anything suspicious. Dean hadn't argued with his father but he didn't much like the idea of trampling through the underbrush at the edge of a lake where young man around his own age had been found drowned.

Dean glanced at Samuel crouching beside him, a grim expression on his face. John had wanted the young man to stay at the motel room- not wanting to get the teen involved in their hunt- but Samuel had refused to be left alone. If Dean didn't know better, he'd think the kid was still nervous about what had scared him earlier that day.

Samuel took instructions well and silently followed Dean's lead as the Winchesters drove to the small parking lot that served the lake and then hiked down to the water's edge.

The night was slightly chilly and Dean cursed himself for not thinking to buy Samuel a jacket while they'd been shopping. He glanced at the younger boy and saw Samuel shift his shoulders nervously underneath the woolly blanket Dean had gotten from the trunk of the Impala.

Dean sat back on his heels and stared irritably at the EMF detector in his hand- it was dark and silent- before shoving it into his jacket pocket.

Maybe they all just drowned by themselves, Dean thought. It didn't seem likely but, hey, stranger things had happened.

Dean sighed and idly flipped open his wallet. He fished an old faded, crinkled photograph from one of the pockets and stared at it in the moonlight.

The picture showed a four-year old Dean holding his newborn baby brother with John and Mary smiling proudly behind them.

Dean's father had had it in his wallet for ages but hadn't noticed when his son had taken it. Dean was sure John had more family photos that he hadn't told him about.

From beside him, Dean heard Samuel give a startled squeak and the boy grabbed the photo from his hands.

"Hey!" Dean hissed, his demand that the boy give him the picture back dying on his lips when he saw Samuel's expression.

The teen had tears in his eyes and he seemed to have lost all the colour from his face. His hands shook violently, threatening to tear the paper.

"Hey, Samuel? Are you okay? What's wrong?" Dean asked quietly, eyes darting around their surroundings as though certain the mysterious monster would hear them and pounce.

Samuel sucked in a shaky breath, "That's… that's her…"

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "That's my Mom. Her name's Mary."

"Mary," Samuel spoke the name slowly and reverently.

Dean's heart began to pound in his chest, "Samuel… what's going on?"

The younger boy looked up at him and a tear slipped down his cheek, "I think she's my mother."

Author's Note:

1. Thanks to cold kagome, anniecarrots1, mb64, Wunjo, Souless666, BranchSuper, peacenparis, MysteryMadchen, reannablue, Demon2Angel, LeighAnnWallace, Serenityhimesheppard, Samstruck, TimeTravellingThestral, L.A.H.H, sarah, Star-Fell, SPN Mum, TheRedDragonEnforcer4, AlxM, Allen92909, peetalovesme124, sammynanci, Tiny wabbit, Dean Winchester's Play Thing, Sivadkristal1447 and Guest for reviewing.

2. Thanks to everyone who alerted, favourited or is following this story.

3. Charlene, although not one of the 'special children' from the show, is the name of one of the main characters in Stephen King's novel, Firestarter.

3. Please leave a review!