Wisdom Reigns Denial Remains

by ephiny63

COMPLETED! What happens when the brother you see is not the brother you know? Set around S2 Dean is detached and angry and Sam is confused and suffering from chronic headaches while hunting for a giant murdering moth. Very Dark Themes Abound.

9. Chapter 9

Wisdom Reigns … Denial Remains

Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the CW or the producers, cast and crew of Supernatural nor do any monies pass hands. I do however love to play with two certain brothers and return them in relatively good health.

Author's Note 1: Warning! This fic will contain very dark themes and violence, if it offends then don't read. Dean is 27 and Sam is 23 this story is set around season 2 but probably will not follow canon to the letter, so can be classed as AU if you like.

What happens when the brother you can see is not the brother you know?

S—D

Chapter 9: A Hunter, A Moth-Man, A Demon and A …

Then:

Dean swore repeatedly when he realised that Caleb was gone; the only sign of his disappearance was the signs of a scuffle in the dirt that and a few drops of blood. He stared around the buildings and shadows searching for any signs of danger before he made a mad dash to Sam, the need to get back to his brother far outweighed any need for his own safety.

'Well, well Dean we got some talking to do,' Bobby drawled as he appeared directly in front of Dean. 'Now don't go frettin' for yer friend or brother they're well taken care of…' as he spoke Bobby pulled out his gun and levelled it at Dean's chest. 'Now we can do this the hard way or …'

Now:

'Hey Bobby,' Dean grinned at the other man, 'wondered where you got to.'

'Nuff talking and let's git going,' Bobby indicated with the gun for Dean to move but the younger man just stood still and shook his head.

'Sorry Bobby but I can't do that,' Dean said amicably.

'Do you want to die here and now then?' Bobby asked as he started to squeeze the trigger ever so slightly to begin with.

'Think Bobby, really think do you want to shoot me? Do you really hate me that much?' Dean stared up into the other man's eyes, silently imploring him to recognise him for who he was and not what the creature tells him.

'Aint gonna sweet talk ya way round me Protector,' Bobby drawled although his gun hand started to shake with minute tremors.

'Hey Bobby do you remember the first day dad arrived at your place with me and Sammy? It was only a few months after mom had died, Pastor Jim sent us to you so you could train dad in hunting. I don't remember a lot but I remember looking up at you with all of your gruffness and growling and you winked at me like it was a special secret between us or something and then you gave me a cookie.'

Bobby opened his mouth to reprimand the insolent Protector when a faint voice sounded through the chaos in his mind. In his mind's eye he could see a tiny four year old staring at him with big green eyes and long blond hair, a look of fear and curiosity fixed firmly on the little face wearing a blue T-shirt, two sizes too big with "I luv classic cars" emblazoned on the front in glittering green letters.

Dean watched Bobby carefully, hoping beyond hope that his words were sinking in, that he was getting through to the other man before it was too late. 'Remember when I was about eight and me and Sam were staying with you, dad was gone longer than he should've been and to stop me from worrying myself sick you started to teach me mechanics. We worked on that cherry red mustang you had under the covers. I remember you saying that you kept it out of view coz it was too special to sell.'

'Mustang?' Bobby said as he furiously shook his head trying to clear his thoughts and to stop the voices.

'Yeah that was the first time you let me help you under the hood, you put Sammy in his playpen in the workshop and made a small stool for me so I could see over the frame, I remember learning so much that day, even what each tool was for and why…'

'Mustang…' Bobby frowned and backed up, putting space between him and the Protector no not Protector. 'D-Dean?'

'Dad finally showed up a week later, with no real reason why it took so long to get back to us … we worked it out a long time after that why he took so long. It was the start of November and mom's fourth anniversary … he went on a huge drinking binge and lost all sense of time and memory.' Dean's voice cracked a little as he spoke, the memory of his dad's torment in the early days still there in the recesses of his mind and it never got any better or duller; just stayed the same and even after all of these years later he can still see his father's face so clearly when he came back to them. 'I remember you made him heaps of coffee and got him to sleep it off in the basement. I remember thinking why would Uncle Bobby make Daddy sleep in the basement unless he had done something really bad. But then, then when I got closer to Dad I knew why. He stunk worse than any skunk and that was saying something! Two days it took before Dad was able to shower and clean up under his own steam. I thought he was gonna die he looked so sick but you just kept cleaning up after him and talking to him.' Dean paused and took a deep breath before adding, 'you were amazing Uncle Bobby.'

Bobby roared as he dropped his gun and gripped his head in agony; he lurched away from his prisoner and blindly staggered into the shadows and undergrowth of the forest, disorientated he moved without any destination all he wanted was to stop the voices and the noise in his head.

S—D

Sam crouched against the wall as he tried desperately to make himself as small as possible while fending off another feeding frenzy from the moth. It was angry and hungry and came at him repeatedly although it didn't physically attack. He could feel the brush of the wings against his skin, the acidic breath on his face but there was no actual feeding this time. Confused Sam lifted his face and tried to focus on the creature but it was hidden from him just like everything else; hidden by a veil of blackness.

'Leave me alone,' he whispered as he pushed backwards using his fingers to feel out the wall.

'Hungry … feed…' the words repeated in Sam's head spiking pain in his already overtaxed mind.

'No more feed.' He yelled as he climbed shakily to his hands and knees and backed along the wall, internally praying for Dean to come and find him.

'He is mine.' The words were hissed out and not directed at Sam, he tilted his head to one side as he listened, another entity was in the room with them and it was not human either. 'You must not take him yet he is my Tribute!'

'Fly home moth-boy you bore me now.' The new arrival spoke and Sam felt physically ill when he recognised the voice.

'He is my Tribute!' the moth hissed again as it placed itself between the demon and Sam. With his heart thumping against his chest and the driest mouth he could ever remember having Sam fought back against the rising panic and continued his painstakingly slow crawl away from his tormentors.

'You have long overstayed your welcome moth-boy fly away home before I put you down and out of your misery.' The demon snarled, 'he is mine, body and soul.'

S—D

Dean felt himself starting to waiver but he had to keep going for all of their sakes, finally he got back to the impala and grabbed the last of the necessary items for the ritual and then headed back to Sam.

Skidding to a stop Dean felt his heart drop when he heard the raised voices coming from the cabin he had left Sam in; for the first time since this nightmare had begun he heard the actual voice of the Gorathic Moth. The other voice was all too familiar even in another meatsuit the demon was easily recognisable.

Silently Dean put his load down onto the floor and pulled out his sawn-off shotgun filled with rock salt bullets, taking a deep breath he eased the door open and scoped out the room before storming in there. The moth and demon were arguing directly in front of him and Sam was slowly crawling away from them. Taking a deep, calming breath Dean slipped into the room and moved into his shooting stance.

'Well, well looks like we've got a lover's quarrel going on … anything I can do guys?' Dean's voice cut through the room effectively silencing the two entities and making Sam stop his slow progress as he listened to that oh-so familiar voice. 'So is it private or can anyone join in?'

'You have made your greatest error Winchester,' the demon crowed as it raised its hand to fling Dean away when a loud shot sounded and it stared in horror at its chest and then at Dean.

'You shot me!' It snarled as the body started to crumple and the oily and inky-black smoke escaped from the man's mouth.

Dean turned to the Gorathic Moth another loaded gun already pointed at the creature and he finally got to see it in the "flesh" so to speak. Standing about the same height as Sam, with large thick wings, that looked just like a moths except that they were made of a dirty cream coloured hide with two large black circles on the bottom section of each one. They were torn along the edges and were covered in fine hairs. Aside from the wings and antennae the moth was a man. 'Dude you are truly one of the fugliest things I have ever seen!' Dean said as he took aim and hit the moth-man in the chest with rock salt rounds.

'You will not have my Tribute … Protector,' the moth spat the words out as the salt impacted on its skin. Suddenly it screeched in agony as the salt started to burn, large smouldering sores appeared with smoke drifting up from them.

As Dean raised his rifle to shoot again the moth screeched and took flight, disappearing from view. Taking the brief respite as a tiny victory Dean shook off his rising shock and hurried over to where Sam crouched.

'Sammy, you okay dude?' He asked as he dropped to his knees in front of his little brother.

'D-Dean?' Sam whispered as he reached out blindly flailing with his hand to find out if Dean was real or just another dream.

Dean caught Sam's hand and placed it against his chest, 'I'm right here bro.'

'The moth it wanted to feed again and then the demon came … what happened?' Sam asked as he slowly lowered himself into a seated position against the wall.

Dean's mouth opened and closed, suddenly Sam was completely lucid again, even more so than earlier, the extremes in demeanour confused Dean to no end. 'How you feeling Sam?'

'M'fine Dean … are you alright?' Sam snapped angrily, deflecting Dean's worry back onto himself.

'Dude where did that 'ttude come from?'

'Dunno what you mean … I just wanted to know how you are.'

'I'm fine Sam, you're the one…'

'I am so sick and tired of being the one!' Sam spat out as he pushed himself away from Dean's support and tried to climb to his feet.

'Sam?'

'Just … let me be.' Sam turned his face towards Dean, squinting heavily he could just see his brother's face without features, 'I am not helpless.'

'Sam up until a few hours ago you were in a catatonic state and then you were barely functioning excuse me if I'm worried about you …'

'Yeah well don't!' Sam rubbed his temples as the pain intensified suddenly, 'gah!' Swaying dizzily he reached out for his brother the rage gone as quickly as it came, 'Dean help me?'

'Sammy?' Dean caught his brother just as his knees buckled and he started to topple over, 'whoa careful don't want ya to add face-planting the floor to your list of embarrassing moments.'

'Hurts Dean …' Sam whispered in his ear, 'calling me … wants me…'

'Try and ignore him Sam, just like you did before,' Dean coached him as he managed to get him into a semi-reclined position against the wall. Leaving Sam for a second he grabbed the old pillows and Sam's sleeping bag from the mattress. Gently he eased the pillow behind Sam's head and covered him with the warm sleeping bag. 'Better?'

'Hurts De…' Sam whispered but gave a small nod in agreement.

'I know buddy but I can't give ya anything for it just yet,' Dean cupped his hand at the back of Sam's neck and squeezed gently, 'I'm right here for ya Sammy, we're gonna gank this mother, get the others back and then we're going on vacation. Yep we're heading to the coast, sun, sea and surf and lots of beach babes.' Dean rambled on as he tried to get Sam as comfortable as possible before he prepared the ingredients for the ritual and the recipe for the spray to use on the moth. 'Super-charged bug spray,' Dean smirked. He filled the super soaker with the vile smelling concoction. 'How you doing there Sammy?'

'Feeding time at the zoo…bug spray … shoot me!' Sam mumbled as he started to regress, his moments of lucidity gone as fast as they came.

'I'm gonna get ya back Sammy, if it's the last thing I do.' Dean promised, he filled two plastic bottles with the last of the concoction, reloaded the sawn-off shotguns with rock salt and checked the ammo in his glock and Sam's Taurus. 'So looks like we're ready to go in guns blazing, you with me Sam?'

Sam blinked and slowly lifted his head, 'gank monsters … feed zoo … yeah m'ready.' Sam reached out to the Dean he could see. Sadly Dean leant over and took Sam's hand slowly helping him to stand up. With all of his weapons slung over one shoulder Dean pulled Sam close until his brother was snug against his side.

'Just stay with me Sam one foot in front of the other, I won't let ya fall.' He said as they finally moved out.

S—D

The Gorathic moth dropped the corpse of its latest victim, what remained crumpled, without any fluid at all in the remains it quickly turned to dust and seemingly imploded on itself. 'Still hungry!' It roared as it moved to the next human, not caring if he was possessed or not, none of them sated his hunger like his Tribute.

'That is just so gross,' Caleb sniped as he spat out a large clot of blood, he had long ago lost all feeling in his extremities, the only sensations he felt now was the pain of the most recently inflicted wounds. Long but shallow slashes down his torso, from his ribs to his hips and down his stomach to his navel. His flesh also bore numerous bruises, burns and cuts from the torture inflicted by the demon's men and the acolytes of the moth-man.

With the torture finally done, they had tied him to a crucifix and erected it at the top end of the altar, where he could see everything as it happened and as he slowly died.

In the centre of the clearing was the stone altar, already prepared with the sigils of the Gorathic Moth, and painted with fresh blood the moth's followers were just finishing it off by attaching the shackles to each end and placing the ornate bowls at the end of each blood tunnel. Mists descended over the area as the full moon started to rise in the night sky, soon it would be ready for the sacrifice of the Tribute.

The demon, now inhabiting another meatsuit after fleeing from the one it was wearing when it got shot by the Protector stood on the dais watching the preparations with a bored and a detached air. Its men were waiting for the order and then they were going to kill all of the moth's followers before destroying that pathetic excuse for an insect once and for all. Giving it complete control of Sam Winchester, especially after witnessing the deaths of his friends and of his brother, the demon will have complete and utter control of the human.

S—D

With painstaking slowness, Dean managed to juggle all of his weapons, the super-soaker and his semi-conscious brother down into the cover of the trees, he could hear the chanting coming from the clearing just ahead of them and his stomach started to churn once again. There was no sign of Bobby anywhere but Dean had caught a glimpse of what they did to Caleb and for that alone his retribution would be lethal.

S—D

'Okay Sammy you with me dude?' Dean asked after he had set up everything and had done another quick recon of the sacrificial area.

'Dean?' Sam whispered and squinted at the faceless person hovering in front of his face. 'De?'

'Yeah dude I need you to concentrate okay?' Dean said and pressed the Taurus into Sam's hand, 'here's your gun Sammy … it's loaded so don't go shooting yourself or me with it by accident okay?'

'Owkay Dean.' Sam nodded stiffly, 'feeding time … call me … gotta … no help Dean.'

Dean forced himself to ignore Sam's disjointed rambling, consoling himself with the fact that once they kill the moth Sam should be alright once again. The one unaccounted for variable in all of this was Bobby. Dean fervently wished that he had some sort of idea where the man was and what condition he was in.

'I need you to listen carefully Sam,' Dean cupped his hands around Sam's face and made him still his movements and to listen, 'I'm gonna go and get Caleb back, I need you to stay here and wait for me. You've got your gun and I want you to shoot anyone who comes close … well anyone except for me.'

'But … but Dean…'

'I'll let ya know when I'm back, don't care if you don't kill em but shoot em … trust yourself and shoot true.'

'Dunno no more Dean.'

'You can do this man I trust you and I believe in you.' Dean said as he briefly leant in to touch foreheads with his baby brother, 'love you bro.' he added in a whisper before letting go of Sam and moving off into the shadows of the forest.

S—D

Dean moved with the stealth and grace of a predator, muscles rippled, tight and controlled as he became the Hunter. Determined, with a sole purpose in his mind he had blocked everything and everyone else out. He moved with precision and each step and movement was calculated and deliberate.

He struck out at the closest guards and followers first; his attack over in seconds was as lethal as any large cat in the jungle. Each body was lowered to the ground as the predator continued forward. There was no remorse in his dark green eyes, no guilt, only a murderous glint for those who attempted to destroy his family, his pack.

'Where is the Tribute?' the Gorathic moth demanded as it stood waiting for the ceremony to be over with, he needed to feed and he needed to feed from his special Tribute.

Two shrouded acolytes dragged a semi-unconscious Sam between them and dropped him effortlessly onto a wooden stretcher.

Dean watched from his vantage point and bit his lip from crying out when he saw that they had Sam once again; as blood trickled from his lower lip where he pierced it with his tooth Dean forced himself to retreat behind the hunter's façade and prepared to recite the prayer to start the ritual still working on the act of surprise to get him through this.

S—D

The hands grabbed at Sam as soon as Dean had left, they were lying in wait until the young Tribute was alone and then they moved. The dart to the back of his neck paralysed him immediately, aware of his surroundings and what was happening Sam couldn't move, speak or do anything except lie there in a frozen body and pray for Dean to succeed.

When they dropped him onto the stretcher he felt the wind get knocked from his lungs and had no way to take in another breath as the drugs still held him prisoner. One of the acolytes quickly removed all of Sam's clothes and pulled a shapeless robe over his head and down his body, it was red in colour but in the moonlight and under the starless sky it looked black. His arms were passed through to slits in the cloth and then laid by his sides, another one of the priests helped with pulling the robe down Sam's body once that was done they moved back towards his head, and while one filled his lungs with oxygen the other opened the long slash in the front of the robe exposing his chest and stomach area. Where intricate designs were painted in ink made of his own blood and venom from the Gorathic moth itself.

Once finished six of the robed priests surrounded Sam and lifted the stretcher onto their shoulders ready to start the ceremony. The air suddenly became thick with smoke and the bitter scent of incenses. Flamed torches flickered to life illuminating their way to the altar, the yellow and red flames seemingly danced in time to the chants.

Dean forced himself not to watch the macabre procession as he moved closer to his target, he had no wish to see his brother trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey and served on a platter to a monster.

When they reached the altar the stretcher was lowered enough for them to transfer Sam over to the rock. Then the priests placed the cuffs around his wrists and ankles effectively chaining him in place. All Sam could make out was the flickering of the torches and the shapes of the priests handling him; perhaps it was for the best for him not to see, as he prayed for immediate release from the world that seems to hate him so much.

S—D

When he was in place Dean took a deep breath, cast a quick glance at his brother and blanched sickly at the sight. Without another thought he forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing and to put the image of his sacrificial brother out of his mind.

'Hey Moth-Dude over here! Why don't ya pick on someone who can fight back?' Dean yelled as loudly as he could, the immediate silence following was physically palpable. Before anyone could react Dean had the super-soaker pumped, primed and aimed at the creature directly in front of him. As the liquid sprayed out he started to chant the last part of the ritual, the concoction hit the moth squarely on the chest, connecting with the burns from the salt rounds and acted like acid on impact. The creature screeched and the air was filled with the foul stench of burning, flesh and hair mixed with the foul-smelling liquids.

'No!' The priests screeched when they saw their God flailing and screaming as it tried to extinguish itself. Dean managed to get another dose sprayed over the moth before he was over powered but it was enough. The creature's wings started to crackle popping with fats and juices as it slowly became engulfed in flames. Sparks flew into the air as the wings started to pop and sizzle before the entire being exploded into a shower of sparks, body parts and internal organs.

In the ensuing confusion, Dean managed to fight his way to the altar where his brother lay so still, just as he was about to uncuff Sam's wrist a hand shot out and grabbed Dean's pulling him off balance in the process.

'What the fu…?' He spluttered as he managed to right himself, 'Bobby?'

'Tribute must … no argh…Tribute must …' Bobby staggered and dropped Dean's wrist when the pain spiked in his head again, two tiny grub like creatures slid from his ears and then another one slipped out of his nose.

'Eww that is just plain gross Bobby,' Dean said as he caught the now unconscious hunter and lowered him to the ground.

The three slug-like things immediately curled up into dried husks when they fell to the ground smeared in blood and mucous, for good measure and just because he could Dean stepped on them and ground them into the dirt with the heel of his boot.

Carefully and tenderly he released Sam's wrists and ankles from the shackles, quickly checked his brother's pulse and breathes and then ran over to the cross where Caleb still hung.

'Hang on Dude I'm coming!' He yelled out to his friend, the irony of his words wasn't lost on him as he frantically searched for a way to reach Caleb. Finally he grabbed the stretcher they had carried Sam on and placed it against the wooden cross. Swiftly climbing up Dean just managed to reach Caleb's right wrist and started to saw through the ropes binding him to the crossbeam. In what seemed like hours to Dean, but in reality was scant minutes he had managed to cut Caleb free but before he could get down and around to the front to catch his friend; Caleb started to fall face first.

Swearing under his breath Dean jumped the last bit, landed awkwardly on his already aching ankles and hurried around only to find Caleb landing safely in Bobby's arms.

S—D

Panting heavily from their exertions Bobby and Dean stood side-by-side as they surveyed the area. Caleb and Sam were lying next to each other on stretchers and covered with blankets; the dead had already been salted and burnt, along with the cross and the shackles and everything else they could find that was tainted, including the robe they had dressed Sam in. Bobby had purified the rock altar and washed it clean of Sam's blood and finally they scattered rock salt over the entire clearing just for good measure.

'The demon!' Dean said, 'did you get the demon Bobby?'

'No, once I came too it was just about all done only had a few left and it wasn't there.'

'Fuck that means it got away!' Dean growled his rage starting to reignite.

'Worry bout that later Dean, we've gotta git these two back and treated,' Bobby said as he looked down at Sam and Caleb, 'Dean I am so sorry … what I did and tried to do…'

'Hey Bobby no, hell no don't you dare try to take blame for any of this … you were a victim just like the rest of us.'

'But I was the one who … hell I wanted to kill Sam…'

'And how many times have you been on the receiving end for us?' Dean asked as he looked up at his surrogate uncle/father/friend, 'nothing to apologise for.'

TBC

'S—D