Chapter Two

Sam was the first to wake up the next morning. The first thing he did (after easing out from under Dean, who was using him as a pillow) was to check on Adam – the boy was still asleep, stretched out under the covers on the other bed.

Satisfied, Sam then checked the time – it was almost nine. He went to the bathroom, changed and woke Dean. Dean dressed and went to get the car ready for their departure, and Sam was left to wake Adam.

It was only exhaustion and the comfort of a bed for the first time in literally centuries that had still kept Adam sound asleep, Sam knew. In his case he'd had no such luck – the nightmares and hallucinations had kicked in almost at once, and he knew with Adam too it was only a matter of time.

And when that time came... he'd try his damnedest to make sure Adam wouldn't have to suffer the way he'd had to.

He gently shook Adam, taking a step backwards when the boy shot up and looked around, his eyes wide and frightened. "It's all right," said Sam gently. "It's just me. Come on, it's time to head out."

Wordlessly Adam got out of bed and slouched into the bathroom. Five seconds later he called out, "I need a toothbrush!"

"Use Sam's!" Dean called back, having just entered.

"No, don't!" Sam yelled, but it was too late – the sound of the water running told them all they needed to know. Sam turned to glare at Dean, who was smirking.

"You're so buying me a new one," he informed his brother.

"Yeah yeah," said Dean nonchalantly, grinning. "Come on now, let's go. We'll get breakfast on the way."

Breakfast was a silent affair. Sam tried to talk to Adam, but the boy either ignored him or answered in monosyllables. Giving up, Sam turned back to face the front, and continued eating in silence.

Dean, who'd watched the entire exchange, did not miss the way Sam's shoulders were slumped, or how dismayed he looked by Adam's lack of communication. It angered him a little to see Sam like this, because anything that caused Sam any sort of sadness needed to die, in his opinion. But since it was his other brother causing all the issues (the phrase still felt alien to him), Dean decided to let it go for now.

Instead he put his burger aside and patted Sam's knee, before saying, "Well, if we're all done... let's get this show on the road."

The town they'd just finished with was on the Missouri-Kansas border, so it didn't take long for them to cross over the state line. They stopped in the first town they came to, and Sam took Adam clothes-shopping while Dean waited in the car.

Despite Adam's not-so-encouraging behavior Sam was being extremely patient with him, noted Dean. He kept trying again and again to get Adam to talk, trying to include him in his conversations with Dean and asking him about little things, but to no avail. Eventually the boy took to glaring every time he was asked anything, and while Sam stopped talking to him he wasn't giving up.

But it was all so confusing. How had Adam just randomly appeared, seemingly out of thin air? Who was responsible for his sudden reappearance? Was it the angels, or was Crowley up to something? Sam had said he'd wait until they got back to base and then he'd begin researching how Adam could have gotten out in the first place, and then working forward to see whodunnit.

Of course, asking the kid outright was out of the question; he still looked sullen and refused to ask even simple questions like "Is it okay if Dean turns the music up?"

The oldest Winchester sighed. He really needed some help on this one. Maybe Cas would know something...

He hesitated before calling him. His last encounter with Cas hadn't exactly been pleasant. Dean didn't know why Cas had tried to kill him, but it bothered him a lot. Cas was their friend, his friend, the only person other than Sam that he trusted fully with his life. And to have him come at him with a knife... it was truly unsettling. He was just glad he'd gotten to the angel before he'd been turned into Cas-chow. Sam was of the opinion that maybe Cas was being manipulated. He'd looked sad while saying it, and Dean knew why – because Sam trusted Cas blindly too, and it hurt him to imagine Cas attempting to kill his big brother.

Screw it, he decided. He needed help, and thinking about what had happened would only just divert his attention from Adam. "Cas!" he called out, his voice strong in the morning quiet. "Cas, can you hear me? Cas!" Remembering that even if he could hear him, Cas couldn't find him, he called the angel. "Hey, Cas, I'm at the Missouri-Kansas state line, that small town, on Main Street." He hung up.

"Hello, Dean," said Cas quietly from the backseat. He'd understood long ago that unless Sam was dead or AWOL the front seat was his and his only, and so he'd taken to appearing in the back. "What is it?"

"We need your help," Dean told him, wasting no time on pleasantries. How could there be any, when the person you were talking to had tried to kill you?

"What is it?" asked Cas again. "I'm in a hurry, Dean. There has been an emergency."

"Yeah?" asked Dean, wondering if Cas knew about Adam. "What, something about that tablet of yours?"

Cas looked Dean straight in the eye. "No. This may come as a bit of a surprise... but I have it on good authority that your brother Adam has escaped the Cage. I am trying to locate him."

His hunch confirmed, Dean offered Cas a lopsided grin. "Look no further," he said. "He's with us."

Cas looked surprised. "How did you find him?"

"Just kinda... saw him," answered Dean vaguely. If Sam was correct and Cas was being manipulated, then they had to be careful with what they told him.

The angel looked slightly suspicious, but just said, "Is he with you right now?"

Dean gestured towards the store he was parked outside of. "Yeah, he's in there with Sam. He needs clothes and both of them need a toothbrush."

"Why does Sam need a toothbrush?" wondered Cas.

"Because I told Adam he could use his," Dean answered happily.

"Dean," said Cas, not sounding amused at all. "Has he said anything to you?"

"About the Cage? Nope," said Dean. "And that's where the fuckery begins, Cas, because how the hell – no pun intended – did he get out?"

"It was not the angels," Cas said. "And I don't think demons are capable of releasing someone from the Cage, or they would not have needed seals to release Lucifer."

"Could he have escaped on his own?" asked Dean.

Cas shook his head. "It's impossible."

"Maybe Death...?"

"Also impossible. Death has no reason to do so. Does he have a Wall?"

"We don't know," answered Dean, frustrated by how little they knew about their brother. "Like I said, he's not up for talking. All he says is that he just woke here a week ago, and that's it."

"He does not remember?" Cas was frowning.

"I'm pretty sure he does," Dean said. "He's extra jumpy and everything, and Sam says it seems like he remembers, and Sam would know."

Before Castiel could answer the front passenger door opened and Sam got in. "Hey, Dean."

"Hello, Sam," greeted Cas from the backseat.

Sam jumped violently. "Cas! What – when did you get here?" Five years, and Castiel's random appearances never stopped startling him.

"Dean called me," Cas informed him. "He told me about your... situation."

The 'situation' had opened the back door and was now staring suspiciously at Cas. "It's all right, Adam," Sam called to him. "He won't hurt you."

Adam spared Sam a dirty look before shoving Cas aside and sitting down. Cas did not look fazed. "How are you, Adam?" he asked.

Adam didn't reply. "I see," Cas said, more to himself than anyone, and then he turned back to the two hunters. "Well, this is an interesting development."

"It wasn't the angels who raised him," Dean told Sam, "or the demons, because they can't spring people from the Cage. And it wasn't Death."

"So how?" asked Sam.

"I don't know," answered Cas.

"Let's find out," said Dean, and turned so he was facing Adam, who was sitting with his arms crossed and staring sullenly out the window. "Hey, Adam," said Dean loudly, getting his attention. "Mind helping out here?"

Adam just glared. "Why?"

"Because we want to know how you got out," Dean said, his tone rough.

"Look, we need to know if this is going to cause any trouble later on," Sam said, his soft tone neutralizing Dean's. "People don't just pop out of nowhere."

"You think I'm trouble, you can just let me go," suggested Adam, ignoring the latter part of Sam's sentence.

"We didn't say you're trouble, Adam," Sam told him. "Just that whoever got you out might be looking for you, and we need to find out who it was, and why."

Cas was observing the exchange between the brothers with fascination.

Adam looked from Sam to Dean, and then back again, before saying, "All right. I don't know. I'm being honest. I told you, I just woke up there."

"Do you remember anything from before?" asked Sam cautiously.

Adam chose not to answer this time. Dean looked like he was going to say something, but Sam nudged him and mouthed, "Let it go."

"This is most unhelpful," declared Cas. Sam and Dean shot him the 'what-can-we-do' look, while Adam continued ignoring their presence. "Well, in any case, I must be on my way. Sam, Dean." He nodded to both of them.

"Tell us if you find anything," Sam began, but Cas was already gone.

"I hate it when they disappear like that before you can say anything! Didn't even get to ask him how he's been, where he went," grumbled Dean. He started up the car again and began driving.

"Dean?" began Sam. "How much did you tell him?"

"Not much," Dean said. "Don't worry, Sam, I know you said he might be compromised. I just told him we found him, not where or when."

Sam nodded. "Okay. It's a good thing he's got those Enochian sigils in his ribs too," he added. "Might help hiding him."

"Why?" asked Adam. "Why do I need to be hidden?"

"Because," said Dean, "not only are you legally dead and completely devoid of any fake IDs, you also happen to have simply popped out of Lucifer's Cage. A task that took us some time to figure out and accomplish, in Sam's case. That makes you very interesting to just about everyone."

"I didn't ask for this," sulked Adam.

"And neither did we," Dean told him. "Dunno if you've noticed, the universe kind of hates Winchesters."

Adam did not reply, and Dean turned his attention to Sam, who was looking thoughtfully out of the windshield. "I hear your brain whirring," teased Dean.

Sam snapped out of it. "Yeah, I was just... thinking," he answered vaguely.

"Yes, Captain Obvious, I can see that," said Dean. "What were you thinking about?"

"There's a few things we need to figure out," Sam told Dean. "First off, we need to make him some fake IDs. Second, how do we explain his presence to Kevin and Garth?"

"Do they need to know?" asked Dean. "Why can't we keep this under wraps for a bit? Or for forever?"

"Because, Dean," said Sam patiently, "that's not practical. Someone's bound to find out sooner or later. Besides, we're due to check on Kevin and Garth in three days, remember?"

"I didn't, actually," groaned Dean. "Why can't one of us go, and the other can stay behind with Adam–"

Sam sighed. "You know we can't, Dean."

Dean knew Sam was right. Besides, Sam was still coughing up blood every now and then, and Dean could not afford to be far from Sam when that happened. The worry would kill him, and if it got worse then Sam would have to deal with it all alone.

Sam coughing up blood, Adam – Dean hated deja vu.

Angry and upset though he was at his brothers, Adam still couldn't hide his awe when he entered the Batcave. "You two live here?" he asked, looking around.

Sam smiled at the look of wonder on his little brother's face. "Sort of," he answered. "Welcome to the Batcave, Adam."

"The Batcave? Who named it that?" inquired Adam, sitting down in one of the chairs set at the long table in the center of the room.

"I did," Dean told him. He put a six-pack down on the table and handed one to Sam and one to Adam, before opening his. "Cheers."

Adam was staring at the beer so reverently it was unsettling. "I haven't had beer in so long," he explained when he saw his brothers staring.

"Right," said Sam with a little cough. He put his beer down and began browsing the bookshelves, while Dean brought bread, mayonnaise and tuna and began making sandwiches. Adam sat and watched his brothers work for a while, before asking, "Where do I sleep?"

Sam turned towards him, his arms full of books. "Oh, I forgot, we didn't show you around," he said. Putting the books down at the table, he said, "Come on then."

"I'll just, uh, sit here and make sandwiches," muttered Dean, waving a slice of bread in their direction. "You're welcome."

Sam rolled his eyes at his big brother and led Adam away.

"This," he said a minute later, "is my room." It was sparsely furnished – just the bed, a wardrobe and a dresser – and was neat and tidy, in accordance with Sam's OCD tendencies. Adam's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw it.

"I've never seen a room this neat," he commented.

Sam grinned. "I can't sleep if my room's messy. Dean thinks I have OCD."

"I think he's right," muttered Adam, looking at the lone picture frame on top of the dresser. The frame itself was tarnished and old, but the picture in it was radiant and spoke of better days. It showed John with his arm around Mary, who held Dean's hand. Baby Sam was sitting cradled in John's free arm, smiling at the camera.

Adam's breath caught in his throat. "I never had any of this," he murmured, almost inaudibly. "Cookie cutter family."

"I only had it for six months," Sam told him. "Until a demon killed Mom."

Adam didn't answer. After a few seconds he tore his eyes from the picture and looked at Sam. "Dad looks so happy."

"He wasn't happy when he came to see you?" queried Sam.

Adam shrugged. "He'd smile and laugh and everything, but it always seemed like something was bothering him. Guess I know now what that was."

It was Sam's turn to not reply. He was at a loss for words. Even if Adam hadn't known about the hunting world his childhood had been just as incomplete and tough as Sam and Dean's had been, and that was just one more thing that tied them together.

"Let's go," Adam said quietly, jarring Sam from his thoughts.

Sam blinked. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Let's. Come on, I'll show you Dean's room."

This time Adam refused to look at the picture in Dean's room. He just shot the room – messy as hell, clothes and car magazines everywhere, it was just so Dean – a cursory glance, before asking again, "So where do I sleep?"

Sam stopped short, considering. "We don't have a spare room," he said. "Guess you're going to have to share."

Adam glared at him. "I'm not sharing with either of you."

"Look, let's worry about that later," Sam said quickly, not wanting to get into an argument. "Let's go see what Dean's up to."

Dean had finished making the sandwiches and was now perusing one of the books Sam had taken out, munching loudly on his food. Sam spared him a look of revulsion before pulling a chair out next to him and asking, "Found anything?"

Dean swallowed. "Bupkis. You showed him around?"

Sam nodded, but Adam spoke before he could. "I don't have a place to sleep."

"Share with Sam," suggested Dean, without looking up from his book.

"I'm not sharing with either of you," repeated Adam.

"Too bad, Princess, you're gonna have to," replied Dean. "Hey look, Sam, this one gives a veeery nice description of the Whore of Babylon... there's even a picture!"

"Grow up," muttered Sam, disgusted. "How are we even related?"

Adam looked like he was wondering much the same thing, but only about Sam, if his expression was anything to go by. Getting up and walking over to Dean's side, he said, "Show me, I wanna see too."

Dean grinned at Sam before flipping over a few pages and then pointing it out to Adam, who whistled appreciatively.

"I notice you're talking again," Sam got out through gritted teeth, rolling his eyes at his brothers.

Adam shrugged, not taking his eyes off the picture. "I'm obviously stuck with you two. Might as well make it easier for all of us."

"Thank you," said Sam gratefully, but was ignored in favor of the Whore.

"It doesn't mean I like being here," Adam added, glancing up at Sam.

"I know," Sam said.

"All right, Small Fry," Dean finally said, "you've had your porn fix, now scoot. I got work to do."

"You wanna help out?" offered Sam, as Adam returned to his seat across from them.

"What do I have to do?" asked Adam.

Sam pushed a book towards him. "Read," he said, smiling at Adam's look of abject horror.

"Read?" repeated the boy. "As in, this entire book?"

Sam nodded. Adam groaned, and opened the fat book to its first page.

Dean was frowning at Sam. "What are you doing," he mouthed.

"It's all right," Sam said to him in a low voice. "There's nothing in there that will trigger anything."

"You just told him to research on how he escaped the Cage, how can it not trigger anything?" asked Dean incredulously.

"Relax," Sam whispered. "That book's the basics. Wendigos, rugarus, skinwalkers, that sort of thing. Nothing about angels or demons."

Dean visibly relaxed. "Good."

"I'm right here, you know," Adam said, without looking up from his book. He turned a page lazily. "And I'm not going to freak out all over you two."

Sam and Dean looked at each other uneasily. Then Dean said, "We're concerned. Sam had a lot of trouble getting himself to stop freaking out, once he remembered."

Adam looked interested. "You hallucinated too?"

"To the point of not being able to sleep," Sam told him. "Why, you see things too?"

Adam nodded. "Sometimes. He's an annoying little bugger, Satan."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, he is," he agreed fervently.

"Ahem," said Dean, clearing his throat in an exaggerated manner. "How about we catch up on Hell's Happy Tales later, we got work to do."

"It can wait," Sam told Dean, before focusing his attention on Adam again. "So how often do you see him?"

Adam thought for a moment, before replying, "Just twice since I got back, actually. Both times he just sat next to me and sang at the peak of his lungs."

"Yeah, that's tough," commented Dean, earning himself a dirty look from both his brothers. "What?" he said. "From what I hear, Lucifer really can't sing."

"Well, how'd you get rid of him?" asked Sam.

"I just thought of my mom," Adam told him. "Happy thoughts get rid of him."

Sam looked surprised. "Really? It didn't work for me."

"That's because he didn't let you have any happy thoughts," Dean reminded him. "He just tortured the hell out of your mind, Sammy."

"Tortured?" repeated Adam, looking uncertain.

Dean nodded. "Kid didn't sleep for a week or so. Ended up in a mental institution, in a maximum security ward."

Sam looked uncomfortable, while Adam said, his face white, "So is that what's going to happen to me?"

"No, Adam," said Sam firmly. "Not if we can help it."

"What're you going to do?" asked Adam, looking from one to the other.

"I don't know," admitted Dean. "But we'll figure something out. Sandwich?" He slid the platter towards Adam, who reluctantly took one.

Sensing the conversation was over, Sam turned back to the book he'd been reading. Two minutes later he suddenly choked on thin air and began coughing violently.

"Sam!" Dean's attention snapped from his book to his brother. "You okay, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, eyes watering. Clamping one hand firmly over his mouth, he reached over and grabbed a couple of tissues, using them to wipe his mouth. Dean's heart sank when he saw the blood spotting the wad of tissues.

"Still pretty bad, huh?" he said sympathetically, rubbing Sam's shoulder. Both of them had forgotten Adam for the moment.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I hate it, it makes me feel so weak."

"You're not," Dean told him firmly. "You're the strongest person I know. Remember that."

"But Dean," said Sam quietly, "what if it kills me?"

"I won't let it," promised Dean. "I can carry you, remember?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Thank you."

"Don't be stupid," Dean said shortly. "It's what I'm here for."

"What's going on?" asked Adam, interrupting their conversation. "Why's Sam coughing up blood?"

"I'm fine," said Sam quickly, but Adam was not convinced.

"Yeah right," he said sarcastically. "How do you expect me to be honest with you two if you're not being honest with me?"

"Should we tell him?" Sam asked Dean, looking hesitant.

"I don't know, I mean, what if whoever's gotten him out has his brain tapped?" wondered Dean uneasily.

"The angels can't find him and this place is warded against demons," Sam reminded Dean.

"Yeah, but Sammy, neither of those two wonderful people got him out," Dean said. "We don't know who it was, or what they're capable of."

"Well, whoever it was, it's not exactly a secret, what we're doing," Sam said. "I guess it's okay to tell him."

"Tell me what?" Adam looked frustrated.

Sam and Dean turned back to him. "All right, this may sound weird to you," began Dean, "but here's the story..."

He told Adam everything, right from the circumstances leading up to their births to what they'd been doing after Sam had gotten out. He finished with the trials, but Adam's eyes had that glazed look that meant he wasn't paying attention.

"Uh, hello, Small Fry?" said Dean, snapping his fingers in Adam's face. "You still here?"

"You never looked for me? Even once?" Adam asked them quietly, looking wounded. "What happened to us being family, or was that just something you said to get me to listen to you?"

"I looked for you, Adam," Sam informed him. "The year that Dean wasn't here, I spent most of my time looking for you. I didn't know where Dean was, or how to find him, but I knew where you were, and I tried. Believe me, Adam. I tried."

"And what made you stop?" questioned Adam, looking more hurt than anything else.

"I found nothing," Sam said simply. "There was simply no way to get someone out of the Cage. Especially a human, not an angel."

"So how did I get out?" asked Adam.

"That's what we're wondering," Dean said. "How. Did you. Get out."

"Adam, listen to me," said Sam, his tone gentle but persuasive. "I know it wasn't easy for you. I was with you, wasn't I? But–"

"But nothing," interrupted Adam. "You left me in there, Sam."

"I was pulled out!" Sam said. "I didn't leave on my own!"

"But you still left," Adam said. "I spent four hundred and eighty years in there, Sam, while Lucifer skinned me alive and Michael ignored my begging!"

"And I took the hits for you for a hundred and eighty years," Sam reminded him. "Lucifer never laid a finger on you while I was there."

"Hey hey hey," interrupted Dean. "You never told me this, Sammy."

"You didn't need to know," Sam answered curtly, before saying to Adam, "Why are you so convinced we don't care?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Adam, standing. "Maybe because I was stuck in a Cage for four hundred and eightly years for nothing I'd done!"

Sam was struck speechless. Dean stood too, and said, "You think we don't know what that feels like? To be punished for something you never did?" He paused. At Adam's mutinous expression he continued, "Adam, Sam was fed demon blood as a baby! He's been cursed since he was six months old! I've been ripped apart by Hellhounds, and I remember every second of it! I realize my forty years of Hell are cake compared to you two, but I suffered too! We both suffered, okay?"

"You never cared that I was in there!" accused Adam.

"Are you even listening?" asked Dean incredulously. "Sam cried for three freaking days after Michael grabbed you! I drank like there was no tomorrow so I wouldn't have to think about how I'd failed you! And when Michael was wearing you, I apologized! I get it wasn't enough, wasn't even close, but how can you say we didn't care?"

"You're our brother, Adam," Sam said quietly. "Of course we care."

"Funny how that stopped meaning something after the billionth time you said it," said Adam bitterly.

Dean saw the look on Sam's face, and immediately began seeing red. "Listen to me, Adam," he said forcefully. "Think whatever you want about me. But do not, ever, blame Sam for this. He tried to find you. He's been trying like hell to get you to fit in with us, to show you we care, and you've been ignoring every bit of it. I'm warning you, I don't care if you're my brother, but if you hurt Sam again, in any way, you'll regret it." Dean's voice was that shade of calm he used before inflicting serious bodily harm.

"I don't blame either of you," Adam finally said, after a staring match against Dean that he lost. He sat back down and said, "I'm just... angry. It's so fucking unfair."

"I know," agreed Dean, sitting too. "But that doesn't give you the right to tell us we don't care. If we didn't, we'd have left you at the side of that road to fend for yourself."

"Look, none of it matters anymore," said Sam. "We can't change what happened. What we can do is stick together and help each other, Adam."

Adam looked at both of them. "Guess I don't really have a choice, do I?" he said wearily.

"Nope, you don't," Dean told him. "Fast thinking there."

Sam kicked him under the table. "You do, actually," he said. "You can leave if you want to, we won't stop you. But fair warning: you're a lot safer here, with us."

"Yeah, you're not going to last two seconds out there," Dean predicted.

"I'll stay," Adam decided. "But there's still one problem."

"What?" asked Sam and Dean in unison, looking apprehensive.

Adam offered them a small grin. "I still don't have a place to sleep."

Chapter Three up for readin' and reviewin', folks. I made this one a little extra longer since I'll be taking a ten-day hiatus. My family and I are going abroad from Thursday to the next Saturday, after which my updates will continue as always.

Why don't you review in the meantime, I hear it's really good for your health. Stimulates your brain, gets rid of extra fat, unclogs your arteries... great cure for many ailments, I hear. So if there's anything at all wrong with you, 'flu or migraines or even a small sneeze per day - review. It helps. Recommended by 100% of fanfiction writers, you know.

Also, reviewers not only get to be in perfect health, they get to bake Dean pie. Now ain't that a treat.

-Peace x