Father and Sons

A Wee!Chester story

Disclaimer: Hmm okay I could say that things could change after this coming weekend but ... Nope still not mine to keep, just to play with and then send home again.

S—D

Chapter Three: If Only I Were a Real Boy.

John heard the loud thump, a fine spray of dust fell from the ceiling covering everything and everyone in the powdery substance. 'Dean son, you be alright for a minute?'

'Yeah dad.' Dean muffled turning miserable eyes to watch his father mount the stairs, 'be careful dad.'

John took a final look over his shoulder and gave Dean a small encouraging smile before disappearing upstairs, slipping into hunter mode with each step upwards. Swiftly he moved through the rooms, checking each one for signs of life or disturbance whatever came first. Finally, he reached the cursed room he wanted the boys to share, 'Bobby you in there?' He called out stepping into the icy cold room he shivered and waited for a second while his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. A soft groan had him hurrying to the other side of that bed, 'oh God Bobby.'

Kneeling down he placed a finger to the other man's throat releasing his breath when he felt a strong, steady pulse, quickly he triaged his friend, finding the cut and bump on his forehead the most serious of the different cuts and bruises. 'Bobby you waking up for me?'

'Guh...S-Sammy.' Bobby tried to shake his head and winced with the spiking pain running rampant through his brain, 'damn.'

'Bobby? What is it?' John helped Bobby to sit up and carefully inspected his head wound closely, 'you're gonna have a helluva headache for a while with that goose egg.'

'Gee thanks for the diagnosis Doctor.' Bobby snapped miserably.

'Okay you know the drill,' John kept his tone light as he went through the checklist for concussion, 'looks like you might have a slight concussion there dude.'

'Argh, feels like a truck has run over me head repeatedly.' Bobby winced and batted John's prying fingers away, 'I'm fine.'

'What happened Bobby?'

'The attic ... damn it Johnny I found Sammy.'

'Sammy's downstairs ...'

'His body is ... somehow that kid ghost managed to git Sammy out of his body and forced him into his dead one chained to a mattress in the attic.' Bobby gasped for breath after expelling all of his words in one.

'Sammy?' John stared at the fragile looking stairs, 'you fell off these?'

'Yeah or rather got pushed...' Bobby grumbled, 'git up there to yer son Johnny.'

John stared up at the small opening for a few minutes and then set his shoulders firmly, 'first I'm gonna get you downstairs to Dean, then I'll be back with a few things don't want to risk another fall ...'

'John he aint doin' too good.' Bobby squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of vertigo hit him full force, 'damn it.'

'Hold on to me Bobby, aint no time to be prissy.'

After minutes of struggling and cursing the two men made it downstairs, John dropping Bobby ungracefully into the empty seat, 'I'll be back.'

'Dad?' Dean turned an unfocused stare towards the direction of his father's voice, 'daddy time to go home now.'

'Dean?' John hurried to Dean's side wincing at the heat radiating from his eldest son, 'son how you doing?'

'Deanie want home, Deanie want mommy and bubby.' Dean frowned and rubbed his chest, 'Deanie hurts daddy.'

'Ah son,' John glanced up at Bobby a distraught look on his face, 'he's burning up and starting to ...'

'Pass him here John.' Bobby settled back in to the chair and held shaking arms out to gather the precious bundle against him, Dean keened softly and struggled a little but took weak to fight he soon gave in and pressed against Bobby's chest. 'Sh it's alright kiddo uncle Bobby's got ya.'

'Mommy's got a bubba ... uncle Bobby.' Dean mumbled, 'I's a big brother now.'

'Yes you are, Sammy's very lucky to have you as a big brother.' Bobby mumbled his own pain forgotten as he watched the child painfully gasp for each breath, the congestion bubbling and crackling under his rib cage.

John found what he needed and bounded up the stairs not wanting to leave but had his other child to save as well, using up precious moments he pulled furniture across the filthy floor creating a makeshift ladder beneath the opening. With innate care he climbed upwards and then scrambled through the hole easily gaining access to the attic room. 'Sammy?' He called out seeing the pitiful sight in front of him.

'Daddy?' the soft whisper broke his heart as he dropped down onto his knees next to the mattress, 'don' like it here daddy.'

John took in the tiny body lying so cruelly laid out, he guessed the child would have been maybe a year or two older than Sammy, the obvious signs of abuse glared up at him, making the boy look younger, more vulnerable than his true age. 'Sammy son are you in pain?'

'Feel funny daddy, don't feel me.' Sammy's voice sounded so distant and lost, 'feels funny an' really, 'leepy.'

'Can you stay awake for me Son?' John asked cupping his hand on the icy cold cheek, 'stay awake and talk to daddy?'

'Yep, where's Deanie?'

'Deanie's sound asleep downstairs, while I get ya down to him.'

'Oh kay.' Sam sniffed and tried to keep his fear in check not wanting to worry his daddy, 'Daddy?'

'Yes son?'

'The little boy he hurts big time.'

'Sammy ...'

'He so scared his daddy hurts him, all the time.' Sammy kept talking his eyes distant and unfocused as he stared over his father's shoulder, 'daddy ... 'hind you.'

John turned just in time to see a large fist come hurtling towards the back of his head, 'son of a ...' the punch glancing off his shoulder, 'oooph...' John winced but kept his position, his fingers curling around a small container of salt. With a snarl he brought his hand up and flung the salt directly at the ghost, who screamed and disappeared faster than John could blink.

'Daddy?' Sammy rolled his head, 'he's back.' Sammy's back arched off the mattress and blood started to pour from his nose as he fought to be released from the already cold corpse.

'Sammy?' John watched in horror as the face contorted and the angry child's face appeared snarling as it fought with Sammy. 'That's it son, come back to us.' But as quickly as the struggle started it finished and once again Sammy lay in the wrong body his own psyche battered beyond reproach. 'Stay with me Sammy.'

'Too leepy daddy ...'

Cursing under his breath, John worked on the cuffs around the pitifully thin wrists and ankles, wincing with each soft moan coming from his trapped baby boy, 'sorry Sammy I'm so sorry.'

'Don't you let it go.' The angry disembodied voice shook the walls and John felt strong hands on his shoulders trying to pull him away, 'it's gotta stay there.'

'It is a small child, it is my son!' John snarled spinning around he let fly with the salt again, breathing heavily he barely missed a beat as he finished working on the ankle cuffs and started on the wrist ones.

Just as he finished unlocking them John felt a heavy force knock him forward winding him slightly, pushing himself upright he swung around but was met with empty air, 'damn it.' He quickly picked the body up and cradled it to his chest as he made his way down to the bedroom below, a sudden feeling of panic surged through him and all he could think about was getting back to Dean and Bobby, not forgetting Sammy's body of course.

S—D

Dean shivered and tried to burrow deeper into Bobby, needing the comfort and warmth emanating from his 'uncle'. He jumped startled at the loud thumps coming from upstairs, whimpering he couldn't remember where he was or why. 'Daddy?'

'Sh Dean, it's alright I got ya.' Bobby muttered, 'oh God Sammy?' he glanced over at the young boy lying so still on the other chair, the woodenness of the skin now complete, for all intents and purposes it looked like a carved replica of a living child.

'Hurry up John.' He added, though truthfully he had no idea on what to do once John got back to them.

S—D

Heavy footfalls on the stairs brought Bobby out of his private musings turning he caught sight of John hurrying downstairs with a child tucked protectively in against his chest. 'Dammit Johnny you alright?'

'Yeah but don't think Sammy's got much ... oh my God.' He stumbled to a stop when he saw Sammy's body, lying so stiff and lifeless on the chair. 'Sammy?'

'Daddy?' Sammy's soft whisper barely reached his ears, John glanced down at the stranger's body with his son's essence.

'Hang on Sammy, just hang on in there for me.' John placed the shivering child onto the couch and then picking up Dean from Bobby's arms laid him down on the couch the two children instinctively moving into each other's embrace. 'You okay there Bobby?'

'Been better but I'll live, so what happened up there?'

'The father, he actually called his son an it.' John seethed, 'no matter what kids don't deserve that.'

'So how do you want to do this?' Bobby asked scrubbing the palm of his hand over his face and then shifted his ever-present baseball cap back and forward.

'We got two separate problems, one is this body snatching kid and the other is the abusive father.' John paced a little trying to work some kinks out of his back and neck, the blow must have been harder than he thought.

'What's wrong John?' Bobby pulled himself up and staggered over to his friend, frowning when he noticed the dark brown stain on the back of John's neck. 'Ah damn!'

'Bobby?'

'Take yer shirt off.'

'What?'

'Take yer shirt off, I gotta see yer back and neck.'

John grumbled but easily slipped off his jacket, shirt and t-shirt, 'hurry up it's cold.'

'Girl.' Bobby teased as he inspected the state of John's neck and back, 'did he actually git a hold of you?'

'Yeah he did, I felt his hands on the back of ... what is it Bobby?'

'Same thing happening to ya as it is to Sammy.' Bobby explained succinctly, 'damn me.'

'what is it?'

'Yer skin, it is hard just like wood.' Bobby breathed his eyes wide open in shock.

'What?' John reached his hand around and rubbed his neck, frowning with the hardness and lack of feeling.

'Can you feel anything around there?' Bobby asked his frown deepening when John appeared not to hear him. 'Johnny?'

'Feels strange Bobby,' John finally answered, 'we need to find out about that bed.'

'Okay random what about that bed?'

'The kid, the father it's all tied to that bed the one where Sammy scratched himself on.'

'What about it?'

'Not sure, the kid's body was directly above it, the carvings and symbols ... we need to get researching before it's too late.' John moved stiffly starting his search of the house again. Bobby rubbed the back of his own neck and then started to go through the cupboards on the other side of the room.

S—D

Dean opened his eyes and looked around trying to find out where the crying was coming from. With a huff of air he moved slowly, the floor feeling like marshmallows, his feet sinking into the soft fluffy substance.

'Who are you?' He called out but got no reply with a deep breath he continued to fight his way through. Finally, he reached the other side of the area and found a dirty mattress against a wall; the small child watched him with curious dark eyes.

'Who are you?' He asked again.

'Me name's Jonas, who are you?'

'Dean, whatcha doin' here kid?' Dean crouched down on his haunches and watched the little boy with interest, 'my little brother Sammy is about your age.'

'I'm older than I look,' Jonas said softly, 'I'm nearly eight years old.'

'Who hurt ya kid?' Dean asked staring down at the many bruises and cuts littering the small body.

'Me dad.' Jonas said rolling his face away unable to meet Dean's direct gaze.

'Why?'

'Coz he said I'm ...t-t-tainted.' Jonas whispered, 'got bad in me.'

'That's bull.' Dean declared, 'you're just a kid.'

'I was birthed on the family bed,' Jonas continued as though he never heard Dean, 'it's a special bed my granny used to tell me. But, me dad hates it, says that it is evil, my momma died havin' me. Then me brother died in it sleeping next to me, that's when dad brought me up here and made me stay here.'

'Can't you get away?'

'Nuhhuh, he broked me legs so I couldn't if I wanted ta, then he told the bed it could have me, then he feel asleep on the bed.'

'He feel asleep?'

'Yep the bed took him too.' The kid turned back to face Dean his eyes wide with fear, 'the bed takes the ones it wants, an' makes ya all wood like it.'

S—D

'John think I found somethin.' Bobby called out holding what looked like a leather bound book. 'Looks like a journal or something.'

Just as they started to look at the journal Dean started to thrash about, tears mingling with sweat on his fever-red cheeks, 'no, no please don't.' He cried out reaching for something only he could see, 'Sammy please don't take Sammy.'

'Dean?' John moved stiffly over to the couch, his breathing laboured by the time he made the few strides across the room, 'son wake up.'

'Dad?' Dean blinked and stared at his father for a moment before he started to cough and choke.

'Dean!' John cried out watching his eldest son's face go from a mottled deep red, to white to tinged with blue. 'Oh God Dean ... Bobby he's stopped breathing.'

TBC