Chapter 10
Clay didn't come out of his room for the rest of the day, which of course worried Sam to no end. They would talk through the door using telepathy, because Clay had said he didn't really feel like talking. He only said that he was tired. He didn't feel, or sound in any way upset.
Which of course also worried Sam.
Sam would open to door for only a moment to pass in plates of food, but there were no signs that Clay was actually eating the food.
It continued that way through the night, leaving Sam with only a couple hours sleep.
Dean on the other hand told Sam countless times to drop it, and stop babying the kid. He'd come out when he was ready, but Sam was as persistent as ever.
Dean then shrugged it off, and let the 'know-it-all' deal with it his way, even though he wasn't getting any results.
The following morning, Clay proved Dean right by finally coming out of his room to go to the bathroom. Sam nearly tackled him in the hall.
Clay only brushed Sam off and took care of his business. When he was done, he came out and sat at the dining room table, his eyelids drooping slightly suggesting he was still half asleep.
Dean rolled his eyes with annoyance at how much the two of them were alike and then went to the kitchen to fix the kid some breakfast he had picked up earlier.
Dean placed the kids' omelet on a paper plate, and poured the kid a glass of water. He sighed as he served Clay his breakfast receiving a grunt as a thank you. Dean shrugged in response and then went back to the living room where Sam was sitting on the couch.
"How'd you know he was gonna come out on his own?" Sam demanded in a whisper as Dean took a seat next to him, but like before he was as far away from Sam as the couch would allow.
Dean shrugged as he stifled a yawn, "kids gotta pee like everyone…it's called tough love, Sammy."
Sam nodded in understanding, "When's Pamela getting here?"
"Sometime today, no one said when." Dean relayed.
As if on cue, there was a loud knocking at the door which made Clay look up from his meal, and Sam and Dean look over toward the door wide-eyed.
"That's creepy." Dean muttered as he got to his feet and made his way to the door hesitantly.
When the door opened, there was a smug looking woman in her late twenties wearing a leather jacket over her 'Ramones' t-shirt and tight dark blue jeans that complimented her figure. Her dark brown curly hair cascaded over her shoulders to her breasts, and her brown eyes pierced Dean's green eyes intently.
"Howdy boys." She greeted happily as she walked in the house without an invitation.
"H-hey." Dean stammered wide-eyed as he slammed the door shut once she was over the threshold.
She turned around to face Dean, and eyed him up and down as a satisfied smile crossed her face.
"You must be Dean." She said simply as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
Dean shivered at the contact, but his game-face remained intact.
"And you're Pamela." Dean replied.
She nodded once, and then walked over to Sam fearlessly.
"Sam." She said, rather than asked.
Sam nodded, but said nothing else.
"He always so grumpy?" Pamela asked Dean jokingly.
Dean shrugged, "It's just been one of those days."
"So…where's the kid?" Pamela asked as she placed her black nailed hands on her hips.
"Eating breakfast…he had a rough night last night." Dean explained.
"Ah right," Pamela said with a nod as if she knew exactly what they meant, but she had only momentarily forgotten, "Abigail left, right?"
Dean cocked his head in confusion, "How'd you know?"
"Don't worry about it." She responded simply.
Suddenly, Clay emerged from the other room and rubbed his left eye sleepily, which of course with his bright blue eyes and disheveled hair made him look adorable and completely innocent.
Pamela's eyes fell on Clay, and her smile dropped instantly as she looked down at him wide-eyed.
Sam eyed her curiously, and rose from the couch steadily. He stepped within Pamela's range and tried to get an emotional read on her, but it was just white noise as if she were cut off from him. In some ways it was a great relief, but in other ways it was a little worrisome.
Pamela walked over to Clay and knelt in front of him slowly. Her gaze looked as if she were examining him carefully.
"Clay." She said in a low voice.
Clay nodded, "you're Pamela."
She nodded in response but didn't say anything else.
Clay rolled his eyes and then walked slowly back to his room and closed the door behind him gently. Pamela got back to her feet slowly and sighed deeply.
"What's wrong?" Sam demanded gently.
"Clay's abilities…are strong." Pamela said plainly, almost distant.
"We got that, thanks." Dean quipped sarcastically.
"No," Pamela said with a shake of her head, "I mean, stronger than Sam's…I don't get it."
"W-wait…you're telling me, that seven year old is stronger than Sam?" Dean snapped.
"Age has nothing to do with it, Dean…It's almost like…"Pamela trailed off, and shot a questioning look at Sam.
"You gotta tell him, Sam." Pamela said with accusing eyes.
Sam crossed his arms over his chest, as his eyes burned into Pamela's.
"Tell him what? I dunno what you're talking about." Sam said with a nervous smile.
"Tell me what?" Dean interjected, a little annoyed.
"Come on, Sam. Don't play dumb with me…I know. Tell Dean what Azazel showed you last year." Pamela said emotionally.
Sam's throat constricted nervously, and his palms began to sweat. He looked over at Dean and sighed.
"Last year…the Yellow-Eyed-Demon showed me what happened the night mom died." Sam began, his voice thick with guilt.
Dean nodded quickly, urging Sam to continue.
"He showed me how the psychic kids…all got their abilities." Sam continued.
"And?" Dean questioned impatiently.
"On our six month birthday, the Demon stood over our cribs and…bled into our mouths, Dean." Sam finished in a sad whisper.
All emotion drained from Dean's face as he stared at Sam wide-eyed.
I couldn't really see how the story could continue without Dean knowing about Sam. So I let him know.
And also, i really liked Pamela when she was in the show, so I introduced her a season early because I wanted to. Haha.
Lemmie know what you think!