Demon Blood

Chapter Six: Two Brothers

Two days after Marian left (she had contacted her parents, who purchased a plane ticket back to Washington to ensure her safe return the day after she'd shown up), a man with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and who looked to be around Dean's age stumbled onto Bobby's property. Once again, it was Dean who found the latest victim of Azazel's game.

"Please tell me this is the right place," the man said, startling Dean, who whirled around with a crowbar in hand before taking in the haggard man before him.

"It depends," Dean said, holding the crowbar steady. "Did you see Sam?"

The man nodded. "Name's Thomas," he offered. "Sam saved me from the demon possessing me." He paused. "Please tell me you're a Hunter."

Dean nodded. "Me, my dad, and Bobby Singer. Bobby owns this place. You one, too?"

"Not really," Thomas answered as Dean led him toward the house. "My uncle's one, but my dad never really let me get into it." He sighed as they entered the house. "I wish he had, now."

"I bet," Dean said with a small grin as John stepped out of the kitchen. "This is Thomas," he told his dad. "Same story as Marian."

John's face clouded for a moment. "Come on in," he finally said. "It's past lunchtime, but you must be hungry."

"Starved," Thomas answered easily, following John into the kitchen. "You are…?"

"John Winchester," John answered curtly. "Sam and Dean are my sons."

"Winchester," Thomas mused with a frown. "I think my uncle mentioned you once."

"Your uncle's a Hunter?" John asked.

"Yeah, his name's Gerald Humphrey."

"Ah," John said, "Gerry. I know him. You ever get into Hunting at all?"

"Nah," Thomas answered, "my dad didn't approve of Uncle Gerald's occupation and my mom never even knew what he did. I think she assumed he was with the CIA or something, the number of injuries he had over the years."

Dean gave a small chuckle and set about making a sandwich, followed by dumping some holy water into a glass. "You want some chips?" he asked, setting the plate and glass before Thomas.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Thomas answered before taking a long gulp of the water and then digging into his sandwich with gusto. John met Dean's eyes, questioning, and Dean shook his head in response before going to find a thing of chips and snagging his own bag of peanut M&M's. Just like Marian, Thomas was clean.

"So, where's this Bobby Singer you mentioned?" Thomas asked a few minutes later, snagging another handful of chips from the large bag Dean had found for him.

"In town, getting food and stuff," John answered. "Do you need some time to rest, or do you think you could go over what happened to you with us now?"

Thomas sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his short hair. "I got jumped at a diner in Texas," he said after a moment. "I think it musta been two weeks ago? Anyway, hurt like hell, and I can vaguely remember the things that demon did to other humans before that yellow-eyed bastard let him have a go at Sam…" He made a noise of disgust and shook his head. "He told the demon that was possessing me that Sam wasn't cooperating again, so the demon in me pinned him to the wall using his powers and…" He trailed off, a troubled look crossing his exhausted features.

"What did he do?" Dean asked, feeling the panic rise in his chest.

It took Thomas a moment to meet his eyes. "He was crushing his heart without even touching him." Dean could see the horror buried beneath the exhaustion and shock. "I could feel it, like it was in my hand and I was fucking squeezing the life out of it." He sighed. "I know that wasn't me, that I'm not responsible for anything that demon did, but the guilt's still there, you know?"

"Yeah," John said, not quite meeting Dean's eyes. "I know."

Dean swallowed hard. "What happened next?" he asked, even though he already knew what was coming.

"The demon was taunting him, telling him he was gonna kill him and then come and kill you two." Thomas shuddered and reached for the glass of water. "Said he was gonna make you scream. And then he suggested that maybe you guys weren't looking as hard as you normally would because of what Sam is…"

"Sam isn't anything," Dean burst out. "He's my little brother, and nothing else."

The look Thomas gave him was so very serious it made Dean want to pummel the guy. "You know about the demon blood, right?" he asked softly, and Dean nodded after a moment. "Well, he snapped, used his powers to exorcize the demon out of me and got a massive nosebleed for his troubles. And then he told me he thought he was a new level of freak, said to find my uncle, even suggested Uncle Gerald should come find him and put him out of his misery."

Dean shoved out of his chair and started pacing as the anger built in him. Sam had worried endlessly about becoming evil, about turning out like Max Miller, and Dean could tell that Sam thought he had already become something worse.

Sam wanted me to tell you he was sorry.

"Fuck!" Dean yelled, whirling around to face John and Thomas, both men looking startled by the sudden explicative. "Tell me you remember something, anything useful about where they had him locked up!"

Thomas looked at him with pity in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "After the yellow-eyed demon told the girl demon to double his dosage I got hauled out and blindfolded. They stuffed me in a car yesterday and then today, dropped me off here."

"Wait," John said, "you drove all night?"

Dean spoke at the same time. "What d'you mean, double his dosage?"

Thomas looked between father and son, clearly unsure who to answer first. John sighed and ran a hand down the side of his face. "They meant doubling the amount of blood they give him every time, didn't they?"

Thomas nodded and Dean felt his heart freeze up. More blood? "Why?" he croaked out.

"That yellow-eyed demon said Sam's powers needed more juice," Thomas answered sadly. "Sam looked like he was gonna pass out, maybe even go on to Death's door. Upping his dose is probably the only thing that'll keep him alive right now, cause there's no way they've been feeding him enough real food." He shook his head. "Kid looked wasted to me, and I think the demon may have even damaged his heart."

Dean shut his eyes tightly, the image of a thin, starving and beaten Sam huddled in a corner filling his mind's eye. He knew Sam was plenty strong and could manage without a whole lot of food in a pinch, but the things Thomas was telling him only served to increase his worry.

"Do you have any idea what time it was when you left wherever this place was?" John asked after a long moment of silence.

"I think it was around dusk," Thomas said after thinking hard for almost a minute. "I could feel the sun warming my face around the blindfold for a little bit before it faded and I passed out from exhaustion." He shook his head again. "Demons, man, they don't like sleeping much. I slept on and off the entire time with only one bathroom break, but it was this place where the restrooms were out back so no one could see that I was blindfolded." He paused. "I could tell Sam doesn't like what he's being put through, but I'm thankful he saved me before the demon could do my body any real harm."

How much more damage was Sam going to be put through before they could save him? Dean felt restless, angry and beyond terrified for his little brother. He tuned out of reality, ignoring the other questions John was asking about the place he'd been at and the drive over, drifting back into Bobby's study. On the large desk lay a map of the states with every place Azazel had visited marked. He stared long and hard at it before cursing and slamming his fist onto the tabletop.

He couldn't see a pattern. None of them could. According to their research, Azazel had been to every marked place exactly two times, all of the second times occurring in 1983, apart from the convent in Maryland and Stanford University, so if Dean could find something else, anything else to explain the message given to them through Marian, then maybe…

John entered the study. "Thomas is resting," he said after a moment, fingering his cell phone in one hand. Dean grunted in reply. Finally, John stuffed his cell phone into his pocket and said, "I think we're going to have to find someone who can help."

"And who would that be?" Dean asked dully, still staring at the stupid map and wishing the answer to Marian's words would just pop off the paper.

"Her name's Ellen," John answered. "She owns a saloon that other Hunter's tend to frequent, so even if she can't help, chances are she knows someone who can."

Dean finally met his father's eyes. "We're running out of time, aren't we?" he asked softly. After a long moment, John nodded and left the room, leaving Dean to his thoughts once more.

It took three days before Sam seemed to recuperate from the damage inflicted by Thomas. Azazel noted that his breathing became easier and assumed his heart had recovered enough for another test. While he didn't much care about Sam's physical condition, he knew it needed to keep it sustained so the kid didn't check out on him.

During the days that Sam was healing, Azazel saw another change in the young man. True to his orders, Tara had started doubling his dosages, and while it was obvious Sam didn't want to drink the blood, he no longer had to have his oxygen cut off in order to get the blood down his throat. They still had to hold him down and force his mouth open, though, so it wasn't perfect progress by any stretch of the imagination, but the fact that Sam was actually swallowing the blood of his own volition was wonderful progress to Azazel.

Someday the boy would be the perfect vessel.

Sam was currently asleep on his mattress. Or maybe he was just unconscious. It didn't matter, one way or the other, but the way the boy was starting to lose weight was a little bit worrisome. "What kinds of food does he normally eat on the road with his brother?" he asked Buck.

"Kid's actually kind of a healthy food freak," Buck answered easily, having carefully tracked the Winchester boys for a few months a while back. "His brother'll eat anything, especially if it's extra greasy or super sugary, but this one does salads and wheat bread sandwiches, always the healthiest thing he can find wherever they go." He shook his head, looking slightly amused. "I heard the brother telling him he was eating nothing but rabbit food once, and he responded by saying his brother was gonna get fat, the way he ate."

"So, a healthy, balanced diet?" Azazel summed up, and Buck nodded.

"Well, as best as he could find, the places they've been to," he amended.

"Hmmm." Azazel returned his gaze to Sam's sleeping form. The boy wasn't one to stay very still in his sleep, but he rarely muttered anything aloud unless he was having a nightmare, such as the one he had suffered the night previous. Azazel didn't much care about what went on in that boy's brain, but Sam's muttering about being a monster really put Azazel in tune with how Sam truly felt about what was happening to him.

John and Dean had taught him their perspective so damn well that the kid thought he turning into the sort of things their family hunted and killed. Not that this was too far off from the truth, but Sam would never see these gifts as anything other than a curse while in Azazel's hands.

Dean's voice from so long ago suddenly echoed in his mind. "You look into my eyes, you sonovabitch, because I'm the one who kills you."

Azazel turned and headed to another room where the Colt was safely stored away. He stared at the damn gun, remembering the look in Dean's eyes as he told him he would kill him someday. How much have I changed by this one act? he wondered, thinking of the night he had walked away in Sam's body with the Colt in his hands at long last. Is the path different, or will the ending stay the same? After all, there was only one way Dean would be able to get his hands on the gun again, but that chance wasn't due to arrive for a few more months. He knew how he could easily claim John's soul in exchange for Sam's freedom, but the fact of the matter was that the man was probably not going to be the one to break the first Seal.

And then another thought occurred to him, one he had never considered. Two brothers. The angels had yet to show their high and mighty faces, which could only mean they were waiting for something to happen. Although, if it hadn't been for their original interference, sending an older Dean back in time, chances were he might never have found Mary, might never have made the Deal with her, might never have found Sam.

Everything had started with two brothers, hadn't it? Every demon knew the story, and he imagined every angel up the sky knew it, too. Two brothers… What if the angels' current lack of interference in his plans for Sam and the other children he had fed demon blood meant they wanted the Apocalypse to happen, too?

Well. That just made things more interesting then, didn't it? Azazel grinned, secured the Colt once more, and set about assigning another demon to learn about healthy foods in order to restore Sam's health. He was definitely going to need it.

TBC...