Chapter Fourteen

His face was white as he repeated, "I can't get out." He looked down at the rug he was standing on, the devil's trap he was inside.

There was a stunned silence following his words. Sam and Dean were frozen in space, both of them staring open-mouthed at their little brother. Dean's gun was still in his hand, his finger paralyzed over the trigger.

Adam tried again to get out, and again his efforts were thwarted by that invisible wall. He looked positively panicked at this point, his eyes wide and staring from one statuesque brother to another. "Why can't I get out?" he demanded, his voice going rather high.

That seemed to snap Dean out of his shock. "Cristo," he said, his tone absolutely flat, as Sam watched Adam closely for a reaction.

Nothing happened. Adam now looked confused as well as freaked. "What?" he asked.

"Cristo," repeated Dean, sounding a little frustrated that it elicited no reaction. "Cristo."

"I don't get it," said Sam, stopping the continuing flow of "Cristo". "We holy-watered him, too, remember? And Cristo has no effect. So why's he stuck in there?"

"I don't know," Dean said, glancing at Adam before turning his gaze on Sam. "So is he a demon, or what?"

"I don't think he's exactly a demon, per se," Sam stated.

"What, then?" wondered Dean.

"I'm standing right here, you know," Adam said loudly, his previous confusion replaced by irritation. "What's wrong with me?" he demanded when he saw that his brothers' attention was back on him.

"Hell if I know," replied Dean, though he looked suspicious now. "Hey – how do we know you're our brother, and not one of Crowley's lackeys?"

"I've been with you 24/7!" Adam pointed out, glaring.

"Maybe you've been a demon all along then!" Dean retorted, though with a sinking feeling in his gut. Somewhere along the line the boy had become a part of him and his life, and if it had all been an act or a trick, it was going to swallow him up whole. It was going to hurt like a motherfucking bitch.

"No, Dean," Sam said softly, and Dean blinked at him. "He can't be," Sam went on. "The angels would have known. Cas would have told us."

At Castiel's name Dean felt another pang, but he swallowed it down and said, "So what is he?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted, sighing in frustration. "We can try an exorcism."

"If he's not a demon what's an exorcism going to do?" inquired Dean.

"No harm in trying, Dean," Sam said.

"You're going to exorcise me?" asked Adam shrilly, looking from Sam to Dean with wide eyes. "You're not serious, are you?" When they didn't reply, he gulped. "You are serious."

"I'm sorry, Adam," Sam said, and he looked sad. "There's really nothing else for it. At the very least it's going to confirm whether it's you or not."

"But I'm me!" Adam exclaimed desperately. "Who else would I be?" Before either of his brothers could reply he said, "Look, if I was a demon I'd have attacked you already, right? I've had many chances!"

"He's got a point," Dean said, looking at Sam.

Sam sighed again. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "But we've got to try."

Dean didn't respond save for a nod in Sam's direction. "All right, Adam," he said. "If you're not a demon, you've got nothing to worry about, okay?"

Adam swallowed again, before asking in a very small voice, "Will it hurt?"

"I don't know," Sam answered, looking like he wished he were anywhere but there. At his answer Adam looked a little frightened, but nodded anyway.

"Here," Dean said, dragging a chair in their direction. "Why don't you sit, it'll be easier that way."

"For you or me?" asked Adam rhetorically. No one answered. With a last look at his brothers, Adam lowered himself into the chair and closed his eyes tightly, his expression nervous.

"Full exorcism?" queried Dean, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

Sam shook his head, grimacing. "No. Let's get this over with as soon as we can. Besides, we don't know if it's going to hurt him."

Adam opened an eye to peek at his brothers, then closed it again when he saw Dean nod. "Regna Terrae," began Sam, and Adam braced himself for pain. "Cantate deo, psallite domino, qui vehitur per calus, caelos antiquos."

Adam searched various areas of his body for pain, but there wasn't any. Maybe not yet, his brain supplied. But he was sure that it was going to hurt, sooner or later, and he didn't let his guard down.

"Ecce, edit vocem suam, vocem potentem," Sam was chanting. It sounded strange to hear the words of this unfamiliar language fall from Sam's lips so easily. Adam wondered if one day he'd find himself in Sam's position, saying those strange words. Then he remembered exactly where he was, and why.

You're not like him, a tiny voice in his head nagged. It sounded a lot like Lucifer. You're not a part of his family. You're what they hunt.

"Akinoscite potentiam dei. Majestas ejus, et potentia ejus, in nubibus." Sam's voice was flat but determined, as if this was just another job that needed doing. The words felt like needles in his throat as he said them, but he ignored the feeling and watched Adam closely, looking for any signs of a response.

"The first part's done, if there's a demon in him it should be out by now," Dean said, not looking away from Adam.

"But there isn't," Sam said. "Nothing's happened."

Adam opened his eyes, trying to fight off the hope that flooded his brain. "So there's nothing wrong with me?" he asked, trying to come off as casual, and failing.

"Not that we can see, except that you're in a devil's trap," Dean replied. "Let's finish the exorcism and see what happens."

Sam nodded, and Adam closed his eyes again, fully expecting to have his pain nerves assaulted any second now. Sam began chanting again. "Timendus est dues e sancto suo, dues Israel, ipse potentiam. Datet robur populo suo, benedictus sues. Gloria Patri."

Adam braced himself for the onslaught of pain, but it never came. Slowly he opened his eyes to look at his brothers, who looked relieved beyond belief but also more confused than ever.

"Well, he's not a demon," Dean said, the relief in his tone staggering in its intensity.

"What am I, then?" asked Adam, standing.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know," he said again, and his own helplessness irritated him. He hated not knowing. "We'll figure it out, though. Don't you worry."

"So what, am I just going to be stuck in here until then?" asked Adam, gesturing towards himself and the devil's trap he'd drawn himself.

"No," Dean decided and stooped. He rolled the rug back a little and scraped some of the paint off with a knife. Sam didn't try to stop him – there was no reason to. Adam hesitantly took a step, and then heaved a gigantic sigh of relief when he was met with nothing. Stepping out of the trap like the ground there was burning, he looked to his brothers and offered them a thin smile.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked gently. "It didn't hurt, did it?"

Adam shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. "Confused as fuck, but otherwise all right."

"Okay, let's get back on the road," Dean said, his tone back to normal. "We'll figure this out on the way. Let's get to Kevin." They'd forgotten all about Kevin in their own predicament, and they left in a bigger hurry than usual to make up for the lost time.

Sam was leafing through John's old journal when he paused for a second and flipped back a few pages. Adam had fallen asleep in the back a few hours earlier, head listing sideways and mouth slightly open, emitting soft snores.

"What is it?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam's unreadable expression.

Sam snapped the book shut and looked resolutely out the window. "Nothing," he said, his voice taut.

"Sammy, come on," Dean said, not believing it for a second. "It's clearly something."

"It's nothing," Sam repeated, not looking at Dean. His knuckles were white thanks to the strength with which he was clutching the old leather-bound journal.

"Sammy, tell me," Dean demanded firmly, deciding to take the tough-love way. It worked – the John Winchester voice always did.

"Just something Dad wrote in there," Sam muttered, his gaze falling to the book in his hands.

"About demons?" asked Dean, instinctively knowing that wasn't it.

He was proved right when Sam shook his head. "No. About me."

There was a pause, and then Dean asked, "What did he write?"

Sam just shook his head, and Dean understood it wasn't something pleasant. They'd both been through the journal dozens of times, and there were a few pages towards the end where John got particularly harsh when writing about Sam – especially after Sam had left for Stanford. Those few pages hurt Sam every time and made him regret his behavior towards his father, and it was probable that Sam had come across one of them again.

"You know he loved you, right?" Dean said abruptly.

Sam sighed. "Not as much as he loved you, Dean."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "That's bullshit, Sammy," he said squarely. "He loved you more than you could ever know. You were too busy arguing with him to notice."

Sam's face shut off, and immediately Dean regretted his words. Wrong thing to say. Sam didn't need reminding – he knew it all too well, and even though it had been years since John passed away it still ate away at him inside. The kid's last proper conversation with John had been a fucking argument, for God's sake.

"You have no idea," Sam began, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion, "how much I wish I hadn't, Dean. You don't – you couldn't possibly know how much I wish I could take it all back."

Dean hadn't been expecting Sam to speak, and was taken aback. Recovering, he said carefully, "Sammy – he would have been proud of you. You've become so much more than he could ever have wished."

"I wish he was here to see it, to see us now," Sam admitted, his voice almost too low to hear. Talking about things wasn't a Winchester custom, and so was understandably rare. "All of us. Adam too."

"I think he'd have been proud of Adam too," Dean said with a little smile. "Kid's learning fast. It's almost like he's been with us his entire life."

Sam nodded and smiled. "Yeah... you know," he said suddenly. "He'd have been the proudest of you."

Dean looked at Sam. "You really think so?"

"I'm sure of it," Sam answered.

"Hey," said Dean a few hours later, turning down Def Leppard. "You remember Missouri, yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, surprised. "Why?"

"Maybe we could take Small Fry to her," Dean suggested. "She might know what's up with him."

Said Small Fry was still snoring peacefully in the back, Twilight clutched in his hand. He'd fallen asleep reading the damn thing. Dean made a mental note to burn the books the first chance he got.

"Maybe," Sam conceded. "It's worth a try, at least. But there's still Kevin, Dean."

"Missouri'll be on the way," Dean pointed out. "We can drop by, say hi, get whatever's she's got on Adam, and be on our way."

There was a silence as Sam thought it over. Just when Dean had given up on Sam saying anything within the same century, the kid said, "All right. But we'll have to hurry. We've lost enough time as it is."

"We're almost to Iola right now," Dean said. "Take a look at the map for me, will ya?"

Sam obliged, and flipped on a torch to squint at the map. After a few mental calculations, he said, "We should be there in a couple of hours."

"We'll get there by nightfall then," Dean said, nodding towards the dull sky. "We'll stay overnight at a motel, and see Missouri in the morning."

"Okay," said Sam. "Any chance we can drop by on Jenny and the kids?" he asked, seemingly at random.

"Are you sure?" asked Dean, stalling at the idea of visiting their old home.

Sam nodded. "It'd be nice, I think," he said. "We can show Adam our old house, too."

"Does he need to?" asked Dean, still unwilling to go along with it.

Sam shrugged. "I think he'd like it," he said. "It's up to you," he added when he saw the look on Dean's face. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

"Right," said Dean, still not sure. "I'll think about it, 'kay, Sammy?" And before Sam could respond he turned the radio on high again.

Sam rang the doorbell and took a step back, waiting for Missouri to come to the door. It was a Saturday and she had no clients, so she wasn't busy, hopefully. Adam had been apprised of the situation and he'd agreed to it when he'd heard she might be able to help. Dean was, understandably, nervous – Missouri had never taken a shine to him the way she had to Sam.

"Sam, Dean!" Missouri exclaimed in delight when she opened the door. "Come on in!"

Sam smiled at her and followed her inside, with Dean and Adam at his heels. "I thought you'd completely forgotten me," Missouri was saying. "You haven't visited or called at all. And Sam! Your hair!" She looked horrified.

Sam grinned. "Yeah, it sorta grew," he muttered, running a hand through it.

"That's an understatement, honey," Missouri said. "And look, you've brought Adam along!"

The boy looked startled, while Sam and Dean, who were used to this, didn't bat an eyelid. "Uh – hi," Adam said awkwardly.

"Don't be shy, sweetie," Missouri gushed as she seated them in her living room. "And Dean, don't you dare put your feet up on my table," she added.

"I wasn't going to!" Dean defended himself.

"Yes you were," Missouri contradicted.

Dean gave up. "Yes I was," he admitted. Missouri smiled condescendingly at him while his brothers laughed.

The atmosphere turned serious when Missouri took Sam's hand. "My poor boy," she said, her tone infinitely softer and sadder. "The things you've been through. I could never imagine."

Sam slipped his hand out of her grasp and put it in his pocket. "It's been... difficult, sometimes," he said, not wanting her to see any more of his memories. Especially not those of the Cage.

"I understand, dear," Missouri told him, grabbing Dean's hand and not paying any mind to his efforts to pull it away. "And you too, Dean. You have suffered for the world."

Dean finally succeeded and hid his hands in his pockets too. "Yeah," was his short reply.

"And Adam," Missouri said as she turned to him, not minding their rejection at all. "You poor little baby. Your mother... and then what happened to you after. It's horrible."

Adam squirmed under her scrutiny, looking anywhere but at her face. Understanding that the boys didn't like to be reminded of their crap lives, Missouri changed the topic. "I think I can help you," she told them. "About your brother."

Adam looked up, startled. "How'd you know?" he asked, sounding absolutely gobsmacked.

Missouri chuckled. "I'm a psychic, dear," she said. "Now – Dean Winchester, you dare raid my fridge and I will skin your hide."

Dean looked a mix of irritated and uncomfortable, and again Sam and Adam laughed. Missouri tearing into Dean was always entertaining. "Can't even think anymore," Dean grumbled under his breath, knowing full well Missouri would hear him.

She sent off a firm, matronly look in his direction and then turned back to Adam. "You remember everything, don't you?" she asked him, knowing all three of them would know what she was talking about.

Adam nodded. "Yes."

"There's an energy about you that I've never felt before," Missouri told him. "It's different from the ones your brothers carry. Of course, their auras have been altered too by their times in Hell... but yours, yours is completely different from theirs."

Adam looked nervous. "That's not good, is it?"

She gave him a sympathetic look. "No, it isn't, sweetie," she said. "You see, the Cage is a part of Hell, but it's different. It's darker, bloodier... more raw. There a lot more evil in the Cage than there is in Hell. And you have brought some of that energy into this world when you rose."

"Speaking of," Dean said, "how did he get back?"

"Don't interrupt me, boy," Missouri said sternly. "All in good time. Now, Adam dear... this energy, it cannot be separated from you. It is a part of you now."

"I'm always going to be... different?" Adam asked, his voice trembling a little.

"Sweetie, you already are," Missouri told him. "You're a Winchester, and that sets you apart. And what's more, you have survived something that no one else ever could. Adam, honey, you're different. And that makes you unique, in the best ways."

Adam looked unconvinced. "But you said – it can't be separated from me. What does that mean?"

"It means that it is a part of who you are now," she explained. "Much like the demon blood in Sam." She ignored Sam's visible flinch, but Dean didn't. Shooting Missouri a resentful look for bringing it up, he took Sam's hand and squeezed. He didn't let go.

"But it's not part of him anymore," he said loudly. "Sam's past that. It's over."

"I know, dear," she said, speaking gently to Dean for possibly the first time ever. Perhaps it was his defense of Sam that did it. "And in much the same way... it will not always be a part of Adam."

"How?" asked Sam, clearing his throat.

"I don't know," Missouri said. "There's only so much I can see. But I do know this – this boy, Adam, is going to turn out to be the best thing that could ever happen to you two after everything you've been through. You just wait and see."

Adam looked surprised at that. "How?" he asked. "I don't know anything useful, and it turns out I'm going to have to avoid devil's traps all my life–"

"And about that," Dean said, "how come salt, holy water and Cristo don't affect him, but traps do?"

"The salt, holy water and Cristo are just ways to prevent a demon from approaching, or to confirm that it's a demon," she said. "Devil's traps are much stronger. They restrain demons... or demonic energy in this case, since your brother is not a demon."

"Do you know how I got out?" asked Adam, clearly relieved he wasn't a demon.

"It was of your own doing, that is all I know," Missouri answered. "I cannot see the rest. But Lucifer and Michael had nothing to do with it."

"Nothing?" Adam repeated. "I did it all?"

She nodded. "Yes, honey."

"Wow." Adam grinned at his brothers. "Did you hear that?" Now that it was confirmed he was all right, and not an entity of Hell, his relief and happiness were overwhelming. Of course, his only outlet was teasing his brothers. "I am awesome," he declared.

Sam laughed, happy to see Adam happy. "Sure, Adam," he said. "If you say so."

"I'm awesomer," Dean contradicted, and immediately Sam and Missouri groaned in unison. Adam had been challenged – the war had begun.

Guess poor Kev is going to have to wait.

BUT OH MY GOD YOU GUYS - WORDS CANNOT EXPLAIN HOW MUCH I LOVE THE FUCK OUT OF YOU. 12 reviews - that's an all time high *cries* For that, I'm going to thank each and every one of you individually.

Here's to: angeleyenc, samgirl19, FTA92, Lia Whyteleafe, caz21, SPNxBookworm, nupinoop296, mbrattoo, agent iz hyper, Violet Eternity, lpmkonjibhuvgycftxdrzseawq and Dear Hart.

Thank you all so much!

On a side note - my cousins are coming over today and staying for a week, so I might be a little slow updating. It'll be regular after that, though. Also, I've recently watched Man of Steel, I thought it was okay while my parents found it absolutely illogical, and my dad won't stop referring to his cape as his shawl. It's hilarious.

Question of the day - What is the most recent movie you've watched, and what did you think of it?

Answer in the reviews ^_^

Thanks a lot for your feedback, my darling peasants. Please do review this chapter too - I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

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-Peace x