This Chapter Warnings: mild violence
AN: I wanted to post earlier but today was really hectic. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Sam stands on the porch with a half-asleep Nathan leaning against him. His wife is standing next to him. Robin is leaning against her. Both children are waving at their departing uncle as enthusiastically as their tired little bodies will let them. Dean seemed to shine slightly in the darkness. Sam blames it on the street lights. Dean walks down the street, having assured his brother that "I parked just down the street Sammy, chill". They watch him until he disappears into the darkness.
The next task at hand is to get the children into bed. That's like herding cats, possibly harder. At least the cats won't talk back. Protests of "we're not sleepy" are not all that believable when they're interrupted by yawns. That doesn't keep the kids from using it as an argument. Nearly an hour of arguments, whining and bribes later, the children are finally asleep.
Sam changes into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in. While brushing his teeth he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He's surprised to see the dark circles under his eyes although he shouldn't be with the way he's been tossing and turning lately. He quickly finishes in the bathroom and makes his way to his bedroom.
His wife is already sitting up on her side of the bed reading a thick, hard covered book. He lifts the covers and slides in next to her. As the bed dips she instinctively moved closer to Sam without looking up from her book. They lie next to each other in pleasant silence for awhile. Eventually, Diana finishes the chapter and places the book on the night stand.
"Night hun" she says to Sam. She kisses him on the check and turns over on her side. Within minutes she's asleep. Sam is dead tired and feels ready to drop but, when he actually tries he finds that sleep eludes him. Instead of falling asleep he just lays there staring up at the ceiling. He'd much prefer a view of the inside of his eyelids.
His mind keeps returning to the events of 13 years ago.
"Mr. Winchester," Sam hears a voice above him say. He looks up and finds an unfamiliar man standing there in a lab coat. At least he thinks the man in unfamiliar. His mind seems strangely empty at the moment. It's like drawing a sudden blank at someone's name except instead of just a name it's everything. "Mr. Winchester, you're in St. Ann's Hospital. You've been in an accident but, you're going to be fine," the man (doctor?) tells him.
'What accident?' Sam wonders. 'Is that why I can't remember anything?'
That's when another man walks into the room. He's smaller than Sam with short brown hair and piercing green eyes. A million images flash through Sam's mind accompanied by one word 'Dean'.
"It's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean (His brother? Sam thinks so but isn't sure) tries to reassure him. "We were on a road trip. Do you remember that?" Sam wracks his brain. He vaguely remembers the hours spent sitting next to his brother driving in a shiny black car with the music pounding. Sam nods in response to his brother's question. "There was an accident. You hit your head. That's why everything's so fuzzy. The doctors don't know if it's going to get better. There's going to be a lot of things that you'll have to relearn but, I'll be holding your hand the whole was Samantha" he teased.
And, teasing aside, he did.
Dean had helped him study to retake the LSATs:
"I'm done," Sam says standing up from the desk that Dean had specifically bought for Sam to use while taking his practice LSAT test. He hands the test to Dean who quickly scores it.
"157 Sam. You're getting worse." Dean isn't being mean about it but, it still makes Sam angry."
"Dean, can I go to bed? I've done a dozen of these test and we're obviously getting nowhere."
"No way Sammy. It's all in that big brain of yours we've just got to dig it out. Now clam down and we'll do one more. Ok?" Sam sighed, not in the mood to argue and sat down to take another test.
"Very good, Sammy," Dean says teasingly after he's done grading Sam's next practice exam. "You got a 169. After four years you're still a college boy."
On the official test Sam had gotten a 171. As much as Dean refused to take credit, he's sure that he wouldn't have done so well without Dean's help.
Dean had been there when he been interviewing for admission to the Stanford law program:
They arrive in front of the graduate admissions building 20 minutes before his interview is scheduled. They sit in the car in silence for a little while Sam tries psych himself up.
"So how do I look, Dean?" Sam asks his brother nervously.
"Dude, ditch the tie and chill out. They'll love you and if they don't then fuck them. Any school is lucky to have you." Sam nods. His brother's confidence is infectious.
45 minutes later when he comes out of the building, upset because he is sure that he'd completely blown the interview, Dean is there waiting. He takes Sam out to his favorite place to eat and then to a bar where they drink, flirt with girls and forget all about the stupid interview.
A week later a letter from Stanford came and he found out that he was accepted after all.
Dean had even been there when he'd had his first fight with Diana:
"You need to apologize, Sammy."
"What?!" Sam had expected Dean to be on his side. "Why should I apologize I didn't do anything wrong?"
"Dude, you're a guy. When it comes to women, you were born wrong and will always be wrong. That's the first thing you gotta learn about relationships, bro. She will always be right."
"That's not fair" Sam whines. He wonders if relationships had been this complicated before he lost his memories.
"Life's not fair, Sammy. Think about it. Is this little fight worth losing your girlfriend?" Sam shakes his head. "Then man up and apologize."
Sam follows his advice. Three years later Dean tells that story at Sam and Diana's wedding.
Not that everything was sunshine and roses. They didn't always get along. It would be weird if they did, but there were other issues. There were things that were just weird.
Every Friday Dean picks Sam up after his classes and they celebrate the end of another mind-numbing week of school for Sam. Sometimes, mostly on days when Sam gets out a little early, he sees Dean on the phone. Often Dean is shouting at them but, the second he sees Sam he'll smile and the phone will quickly disappear. If Sam asks about the call Dean will tell him "it was just someone I work with Sammy, don't worry about it." If Sam continues to push Dean plays it off as a joke until he eventually snaps at his brother in an icy tone that makes a shiver run down his Sam's spine. Dean turns the music up and later acts as if nothing happened.
To this day Sam doesn't know what Dean does for a living. He's learned that it's easier if he just doesn't ask.
That's not all. Back when they shared an apartment odd things happened all the time.
Sometimes, especially when Dean doesn't think Sam will be home for hours, Sam will hear strange sounds coming from Dean's room. Most of the time, he hears hissing, like Dean has a hundred snakes lock up in his room but the hissing is rhythmic almost like a language. Other times there are just noises, deep grunts and groans. It sounds like someone is either having a very pleasant time in there or a very painful one. Sam isn't sure which one he'd prefer. Every time he opens the door, trying to catch Dean in the act, Dean is alone. Sam would ask about the voices and Dean would respond "What voices?" Sam can never tell if Dean is lying.
It made Sam feel like he was going crazy.
However, the worst thing by far was the dreams.
A few months after Sam woke up in the hospital, Sam is ready to give up on fully recovering his memory. He can usually remember people, like his dad, and some events, like on his 10th birthday when Dean stole a Power Rangers cake for him, but huge chunks of his past were still blurry or missing altogether. He knows they moved around a lot during his childhood but, he can't remember why. The only thing he remembers about the fire that killed his girlfriend was the intense heat. Where was Jess? How did he out unhurt? Why didn't he save Jess? It was frustrating.
It gets worse when he starts having dreams that feel like memories. He sees Jessica burning to death on the ceiling her stomach sliced opened, her blood dripping down onto his face. He sees himself shoot his brother, with rock salt of all things, and watches as the force propelled him through a wall. He sees Dean die over and over again in increasingly outrageous ways that would be funny if they weren't so disturbing. He sees the horribly mangled bodies of people who he can't remember but it feels like he knows them. He sees ghosts, werewolf, vampires and other things that he would have sworn he'd never seen before except for the fact that he can list most of them by name. None of it makes sense. It can't be real but it feels real. It doesn't feel like just a dream.
He doesn't tell Dean. Dean finds out because he hears Sam screaming in his sleep. Sam was afraid that Dean would think he was crazy but, Dean listens with a minimum amount of teasing. Then, he takes Sam to some sort of sleep therapist. She basically just watches him sleep and gives him a special pillow to use for a while. Despite Sam's skepticism, the dreams go away.
Until now.
Now the dreams were back with a vengeance. The high definition gore-fest had come pouring back into his head as if it had never left. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in so long. He barely could get three hours uninterrupted. He'd tried to compensate with little naps throughout the day. That didn't help much. One weekend he'd slept napped for a total of 12 hours, albeit not continuous hours. That had barely taken the edge off. He hadn't bothered his family with the problem. He hadn't wanted them to worry. He'd tried to contact Dean, hoping that they could fix it the same way they had before but, his phone kept going straight to voicemail, until today.
There was one thing different than before. He'd wanted to tell Dean about it but, he he'd been interrupted before he could. There was a man. The man himself wasn't new. He'd seen the man in his dreams before but, only briefly. He'd barely even thought about him. He'd been focused more on the dreams filled with blood. Now, however, the man was appearing more and more. These didn't seem like memories. There was no setting, no context just a large balding man. Normally the man was… yelling isn't exactly the word. There was scolding and threats but, it was all in this sharp quiet voice. He would scold him for abandoning them to join with "that abomination." He promises Sam that if he returns to them all will be forgiven. He threatens that if Sam doesn't return they will burn everything around him until they get what they want.
He feels like he should know who the man is. He just can't remember. There's a name on the tip of his tongue, lying just out of reach. He's wondering where he could have met such a deranged and obviously dangerous man when it hits him.
"Zachariah" he whispers unexplainably sure that this is the man's name. There's a sudden flash of light, so bright that Sam has to cover his eyes. The house shakes for a moment. The light recedes. There, standing at the foot of the bed, is the man from his dreams. Half-a-dozen others are also scattered around his bedroom. Sam is speechless as the as the intruders begin to rummage through his house.
"Aw. Look little Sammy is all grown up. Got himself a perfect house and a lovely wife." Two burly men drag Diana, still half-asleep, from the bed. She kicks and claws at them but it's futile. Two more goons appear carrying the confused and frightened children. "Oh and look, kids. I wonder if they're as big a pain in the ass as their old man." Sam tries to get to his children. "No no. Don't get up." Sam's body freezes and try as he might he can't move. "This will all go much smoother if you just cooperate."
"Who are you? What do you want?" Sam finally gasps out.
"Oh Sam, I'm hurt. How could you forget your old friend Zachariah? You called me, Sam. You know what I want. The end of days has been but off for too long. It's time to stop screwing around. All we need is your brother for the party to begin. You get your brother to get in line and play his part like the good little Prince of Darkness that he is..." while Zachariah is busy making his speech Diana slowly moves toward the bedside table. She grabs a pen and jabs it into the neck of the man closest to her. The man doesn't even flinch. He backhands Diana across the face, knocking her to the floor before calmly pulling the pen free.
Sam uses the distraction to try to make a grab for his children but, he's knocked flat on his back by a guy who looks like he could play for the NFL. He lays on the floor dazed.
"Not a smart move Sam." Zachariah says as he stands over him. "Your family and I are going to go on a little trip now. Call me if you decide to be more cooperative." There's another flash of light and Sam is alone. He tries to stand but everything spins. He attempts to get to his feet once again but, the blackness encroaching on his vision makes it difficult. He tries to fight it but, the darkness wins and he loses consciousness.
He stays that way until the next morning when he is shocked back to awareness by a car honking outside. He awakens groggy and confused. Suddenly the events of last night come rushing back and he goes into panic mode. He races through the house hoping that it was only a dream, hoping that his kids and wife will be there. They aren't. He checks every room in the house again. They still aren't there. A third time. Still nothing.
He forces himself to calm down. He needs to breathe. He needs to think. How is he going to get his family back? What can he do?
'Call Dean,' his brain advises. 'He'll know what to do.' He finds his phone lying next to an overturned table and dials Dean's number. It rings, and rings and rings. He's almost given up and started panicking again when his brother finally picks up. The conversation is a blur for Sam. He doesn't even realize that that Dean has hung up when he hears the door bell ring. He unsteadily makes his way downstairs. His brother is standing on the porch. His body radiates tension. Behind Dean is his "partner in more than just a business sense", Cas. He's nearly as tense as his brother.
"Sammy, what happened?" Dean asks as soon as Sam opens the door.
"They're gone Dean. He took them," Sam is close to yelling.
"Who?" Dean asks. "Who took them?" The neighbors are beginning to stare.
"The man, Dean! THE MAN took them," Sam is getting histerical at this point.
"Sammy…" Dean begins but Cas cuts him off.
"We should go inside where our conversation will be more private" Cas says. Dean looks around and nods. Sam follows them inside then back up the stairs. Any conversation they have along the way is lost to Sam. He feels like he's about to fall down. Cas must notice because he slowly lowers him into a sitting position at the end of the bed. He runs his hand along the back of his head and suddenly Sam cringes. Cas' finger come away with spots of red. He kneels down to look into Sam's eyes.
"What are you…?" Sam begins to ask.
"Hush," Cas commands. "He has a concussion." The other man finally says to Dean as he stands.
"Can you…?" Dean makes a gesture that Sam doesn't understand but, Castiel must because he responds with a sort of half bow half nod. He places his hand back on Sam's head.
"What are you…?" Sam tries to ask again but, this time Dean hushes him.
"Quiet, Sammy. Let the man work. " Cas is muttering words that Sam can't make out. Suddenly, all the dizziness and pain recedes. It's like a fog is lifted from his mind.
"You ok now Sammy?" Dean asks him. Sam nods. "Ok then, put on some pants and we'll get to figuring this thing out." Sam looks down and realizes that he's still dressed in the t-shirt and boxers that he went to bed in. He quickly dresses, trying to keep his modesty as intact as possible while dressing in front of the two other men.
"So what happened?" Dean asks once again when Sam is finally fully dressed.
"There were a least a dozen people; they just appeared out of nowhere right into my bedroom. There was this one guy. He started making threats. He was talking to me like I should know him. He took my family, said I'd get them back when you 'play your part'. What was he talking about?"
"What'd the guy look like, Sammy?" Dean asks ignoring Sam's question.
"He was a white guy, mostly bald but the hair that was left was white. Sort of fat…"
"Did you get a name?"
"He said his name was Zachariah."
"Shit!" Dean suddenly swore. "Fucking shit! This isn't good. How did he find you? How'd he get in?"
"He said that I called him. I don't know what he meant I…" Cas interrupts him this time.
"There are several rituals to summon an angel, the easiest of which would be to call their name. More complex …" Cas is explaining when Sam is hit by a sudden realization.
"I said his name," Sam admits. "He was in my dreams and he seemed familiar. I kept trying to remember who he was. Suddenly I remembered something. Just a name. It was suddenly just there in my mind. I must have said it out loud. So I summoned him. Shit. But why did he come? What does he want with my family?" Dean and Cas exchange looks. Cas raises an eyebrow, his gaze slightly chiding. Dean's face is determined with a hint of pleading. For a while, neither man wavers. It's as if an entire conversation is happening just through facial expressions. Cas' expression crumbles first, into what looks like an eye roll. Dean smiles for a second before becoming serious once again.
"Sammy, I know you have a lot of questions but, now really isn't the time. This location isn't secure. It's already been compromised by the enemy." Dean is talking like some sort of military general. Sam instinctively opens his mouth to argue but, Dean cuts him off. "Sammy, just trust me. Alright?"
Sam nods. After everything that Dean has done for him since his accident, the least he can do is put a little faith in his brother. The three men make their way out to the car. Dean climbed into the driver's seat and his boyfriend sits next to him. Sam settles himself into the back. Although, he'd spent at least 8 of the last 24 hours unconsciousness that is no substitute for real sleep. He lies back and the oddly familiar sensations lull him to sleep almost immediately
AN: That's all for now. Please review. Any guesses where Dean is taking Sam? I think the answer will delight some people. I'm off to bed then. I have to be up at 6AM tomorrow. The next chapter will probably be up in two weeks. Until then : )