Summary: AU: Stanford Era: "Dean … Sammy's in trouble." A late night phone call sends Dean Winchester and long-time friend, Caelan Hagan in a desperate search to find Sam before the unthinkable happens; uncovering lies and secrets involving the youngest Winchester, that have been years in the making.
Warnings: Violence, swearing, physical abuse, torture, implied adult themes.
Disclaimer: I don't own the supernatural characters.
Author's Note: Just another possibility on why Sam left for Stanford. Introducing new character, Caelan Hagan. Hope you enjoy. Here's the first of many chapters that begin to explain why the duo Hunters of father and son have targeted Sammy for all of these years. I really struggled with this chapter and the next few chapters because of the information content. Hope I explained it so all of you can understand it too!
Special Note: Here's another chapter just for all you guys who have taken the time out to read this story and to all the people who have this story on their alerts or have put it on their favourite lists. Thanks. It means a lot.
DEMON SPAWN: THE PHONE CALL
CHAPTER ELEVEN
John Winchester made sure that his gun was discreetly concealed inside of his jacket, waiting for Marc to show up at the local pub while he contemplated what his next move should be. He couldn't really do much until Sammy was found. While he remained missing, John feared that any kind of attack upon Marc's life would put his young son at risk.
John was often bold and brash; he could even be accused of being kind of reckless at times, but when it came to his children's safety … any risk was too high.
He didn't know who was working with Marc or how many were involved. He didn't even know who Marc had spoken to on the phone – that's why he hesitated in calling either Caleb or Bobby in for back-up – knowing that as unlikely as it seemed that Caleb or Bobby would be involved in kidnapping a fellow Hunter's kid … he had to be extra cautious.
Sam's life was on the line and John – although every instinct tole him to do the exact opposite – had to remain calm and cautious. He would not sacrifice his son's life on his – often out of control – temper until he knew for sure what was going on and how many were involved. John was on his own (except for his oldest son Dean and surrogate son Caelan, who were on the mission to find Sammy and bring him home).
John quickly glanced at his phone – no missed calls, no new text messages – and let out a soft exhale, hoping that Dean or Caelan would contact him with good news soon. All of this waiting around bullshit was really starting to grate on his every nerve. He was an action man; a doer; being confined to patiently sit and wait for things to happen had never been his strongest attribute.
Although since becoming a Hunter, his patience had increased dramatically to the point where sometimes John enjoyed sitting in a library or a quiet motel room researching the case – the hunt – he was working on. Research helped to calm his mind and thoughts when he couldn't get a handle on a case or if his boys were giving him grief … especially Sammy!
John couldn't help the affectionate, fond smile that crossed his expression. Damn kid pushed his patience every damn time with his questions, continually pushing John's buttons until John felt like he was going to explode!
And as much as that inquisitive, curious nature of his youngest son gave him the most grief, it was also one of the qualities that John loved best about his son. Sam wasn't afraid to ask the questions, to voice his opinion when he disagreed with John's assessment. Most of the time it was a colossal thorn in John's side but sometimes – more often than John cared to admit – John would gain some new insight into the case because of his youngest son's outbursts.
Sam was the last gift that his beloved Mary had given him and John would be damned if he would allow either Hunter – human – or supernatural – The Demon – to hurt and destroy his baby boy who had the kindest and gentlest soul that he had inherited from his late Mother. John's lips stretched into thin lines of unwavering resolve; he would get his son back and he would make every one of those bastards pay for ever having lay a hand on his kid!
John was interrupted from his thoughts by the feel of someone's intense gaze upon him. John lifted his eyes and swept the bar for any immediate threats with a practiced eye, his eyes finally coming to rest upon the pale blue orbs of Marc Ley-Lamp.
Marc's expression morphed into a bright smile when he noticed John's calculating gaze upon him, waving a quick hand in greeting before he marched over to John's table and sat down opposite him.
John was genuinely surprised that Marc had shown up at all. He expected that March would either have high-tailed it out of town as fast as he could, or he would have brought Stewart and Adams with him for extra support and back-up. He never expected the man to turn up alone.
John forced a smile in greeting, chiding himself for completely underestimating this guy. From the moment John had overheard Marc's conversation, John had been shocked by this man's actions; time for him to stop thinking of this man as a friend and fellow hunting partner. As much as it pained him and bruised his ego to do so, John had no choice but to slip Marc into the category of unknown threat and enemy, watching him out of wary, suspicious eyes, even when trying to play along and act like nothing had changed between them.
"Marc, glad you could make it," John shook the Hunter's hand, waving toward the waitress, ordering another round of drinks for the two of them. "I wasn't sure if you were coming; considering I've been sitting here for nearly two hours now." John's smile widened, even as his eyes narrowed slightly at Marc suspiciously. "Thought maybe you decided to leave with Adams and Stewart after all." He gently prodded.
"Almost did," Marc admitted with a self-conscious chuckle. "But then I decided … what the hell? May as well meet up with my good buddy for a drink before we part ways."
Something within the tone of Marc's voice had John's Hunter instincts screaming at him that something was wrong. This was all wrong.
"Besides, leaving without giving you any kind of explanation … I may be a self-absorbed, obsessive bastard, but I really have grown to like you John and respect you as a Hunter. You're a good man and it makes me ashamed to think that once upon a time I hated you with a passion!
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Dean dragged Peter along by the hair until he reached the main room of the warehouse where he discovered Caelan standing over an unconscious body, his lip bleeding but otherwise unharmed.
"I knew you could handle him by yourself!" Dean grinned at his friend proudly as he dumped Peter's unmoving form next to his buddy, not caring about any additional damage he might have caused the man.
Caelan glanced down at the bloody, beaten face next to him and looked at Dean questioningly. "Really Dean?" he demanded, gesturing toward the man's almost unrecognizable face. "You couldn't help yourself, could you? I thought we agreed not to cause these Hunters any unnecessary injuries until we got some answers."
Dean smirked. "Yeah, well, this guy gave me all sorts of trouble!" Dean insisted, his eyes widening innocently. "I didn't have a choice Cal."
Caelan swept his gaze over his unharmed friend. "Aha." He stated, unconvinced by Dean's words. "I know what you mean dude, Hank here … well shit … he was struggling and fighting against my hold so much that he "accidentally" broke his arm … and possible his wrist."
Dean's smirk widened before the two of them burst out laughing. "Man, we're hopeless!" Caelan told Dean.
Dean shrugged unconcerned. "We agreed not to kill them Cal … nobody said anything about no roughing up a bit. Besides, if Sammy's in bad shape, I may have to renege on our deal and kill those SOBS on principal alone." Dean warned, his green eyes narrowing and flashing with a protective streak.
"Let's just find Sammy," Caelan replied complacently. "And then we'll go from there, okay Dean?"
Reluctantly Dean nodded. "Agreed. Peter said that Sammy was in the executive office. He better not have lied to me or he'll have more than a broken nose to worry about!"
Caelan chuckled softly beside Dean. "Knowing your persuasive skills, I'm sure that Peter would have no reason to lie. And I assume you told him what would happen if he lied …" Caelan couldn't help but tease his friend, hoping to lighten the mood a little.
"Holy shit!" Caelan gasped, all teasing and mirth vanishing in an instant when he spotted a metal-steel box in the centre of the room which couldn't have been big enough to sit in. let alone house a fully grown man in. Monitors surrounded both sides of the room, all of them featuring different angles of inside of the box; all of them displaying the huddled form of Sam Winchester.
His head rested upon the top of his knees, right arm encircling the base of his legs, left arm hanging limply by his side, rocking back and forwards, tears slipping down his checks, nonsense words escaping him, his completely naked body covered with bruises and blood from head to foot; his back – dear God! – was criss-crossed with whip marks.
Almost as if he could sense the two Hunters, Sam lifted his head, staring directly into the camera ahead of him. "Please," Sam begged, his hazel eyes wide; his puppy-dog look in full effect that no one – except maybe John Winchester – could resist. "Let me out of here. I just want to go home … Please don't hurt Dean or Caelan because of me. Please don't … let me out … I won't fight anymore … I promise."
A choked off half-sob, half-gasp sounding from beside him, brought Caelan out of his numbed and horrified thoughts as Dean strode toward the box, kneeling down beside it to place his hands upon the door.
"I'm here Sammy," Dean whispered, his voice cracking and shaking as he fought to supress his tears. "I'm here little brother. I'm going to get you out of there, okay? Hold on little brother, hold on."
Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the shock of seeing his brother so beaten and broken slowly wearing off as another feeling surged within him. A need … a desperate, aching need … to get his baby brother out of there right now!
Dean growled when he noticed a padlock upon the door, preventing him from getting to his brother. "Caelan, I need keys!" Dean snapped at his friend urgently. "Caelan! Keys! Do you see any God damned keys there are not?!"
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John's eyebrow's shot up in surprise at Marc's words. "Excuse me? You hated me?"
"Oh yes." Marc agreed, his smile widening, his expression contradicting the words he was saying. "I hated you for a lot of years John; blamed you for my Mary's death too."
John couldn't help the shocked gasp that escaped him at the mention of his late wife's name (or so he assumed it was the same Mary that Marc was talking about). "Really?" John said, quickly masking his shock by replacing it with his unreadable stoic expression, hoping to give away nothing of his inner-thoughts. "I didn't know you knew anyone by the name of Mary as well. Not sure what I had to do with your Mary's death though." John added, deliberately trying to bait Marc into revealing more.
Marc chuckled dryly. "Oh yes, I definitely knew Mary; grew up with her in fact." Marc paused, eyeing John carefully before he shrugged his shoulders. "What the hell … I guess you deserve to know everything since this is probably the last we'll see of each other." Although Marc still held his smile in place, his pale eyes flashed with intensity and anger, a secretive, knowing look within his eyes.
John felt a shiver run up and down his spine at the look in Marc's eyes, but be damned if he was going to let Marc see that! "What do you mean Marc?" John asked quietly, his body automatically tensing as if expecting an attack at any moment.
"Your Mary and my Mary are one and the same. I was adopted into the Campbell family – was in fact Samuel's adoptive brother – but because of the massive age difference between me and my adoptive parents, Samuel ended up raising me like he would have his own son."
Marc's features softened in remembrance. "I was eight-years old when Mary was born; and I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her. I knew that the two of us were destined to be together; to get married and have kids of our own one day."
John swallowed hard, too shocked at Marc's connection to Mary to form any coherent thoughts at the moment until Marc's last words penetrated his numb mind. "Marry her?" John repeated stunned, incredulous. "Mary was your niece." John stressed, suddenly feeling ill and disgusted now.
"Technically yes … but we weren't really related by blood, so I knew that our love could develop into something more one day."
"Your love?!" John snapped, anger surging within him now, desperate to defend his beautiful wife's integrity and honour. "Mary never would have married you. You were her family and she never would have …"
John took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his rising agitation. "Okay then, if what you're telling me is true," John tried to reason with the man. "Then why didn't Mary ever mention you in all of the time that we dated and then got married? If Mary loved you, like you claim she did, then why didn't she tell me anything about you?"
Marc's expression suddenly darkened as he glared at John hatefully.
"It's because … she was scared of you, wasn't she? That's why she never told me about you or why you were never around when we married and had kids. She was scared and ashamed of you."
"Shut up!" Marc hissed, his features twisting into outrage at John's outrageous suggestions. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about! I wasn't around because she was scared of me! When Samuel and Deanna died in 1973, I decided that I needed to be trained; to become better equipped in order to protect Mary.
Samuel taught me the basics in how to defend myself, but I wanted to protect someone else, so I enlisted in the Army and I learned, not only how to protect other people, but also how to extract sensitive information from the enemy."
"Torture," John frowned. "You're talking about torture, aren't you?"
Marc grinned; quickly regaining his composure as he proudly puffed his chest out. "Damn straight that's what I talking about! And I became the best at being able to … extract the information … whether they were willing to give it to me or not."
Marc leaned forward, his elbow resting upon the middle of the table. "Those skills became essential when I was torturing you r son …"
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Caelan blinked, Dean's urgent, commanding voice snapping him back to the present. Keys. Right … Where the hell would sick mother fuckers put keys to a box that could barely contain a child, let alone a fully grown Sammy?
Ah ... here! Right by the … stack of torture weapons that were lined up in a row upon the wall, like you would display fucking trophies! Of course that was where you would put the keys to your torture box … right next to the fucking torture weapons!
Caelan almost lost what was in his stomach when he noticed dried blood and flecks of – oh God, was that skin? – upon the weapons. But with a will power Caelan didn't know he possessed, he pushed those emotions back and snagged the keys from the hook.
"Found them," Caelan said, his voice rough, fill of horror and dread at what the youngest Winchester had faced at the hands of these crazy sick fucks, tossing the keys at Dean, not surprised when Dean caught the keys one handed and immediately set to work on unlocking the door so that he could free the young man.
Caelan took several steadying breaths before he turned back toward the weapons once more. If seeing these made Caelan feel sick to his stomach and want to march into the next room and put a bullet through the skulls of those two Hunters who had participated in torturing Sammy … what would Dean's reaction to them be?
Caelan shuddered violently at that thought before he knew what he had to do. Spying a bag in the corner of the room, Caelan grabbed it, took each of the offending items off the wall and shoved them in the bag to be destroyed later on.
Blocking out the horror around him, Caelan methodically went through every monitor and every computer, throwing evidence of Sam Winchester ever having been here into the bag with the weapons, to be dealt with once Sammy was safely out of here and in their protective custody once more.
Being completely thorough, Caelan smashed all of the screens, computers and monitors in the room, knowing that the only real way of destroying all of the evidence that Sam had been here was to set fire to the warehouse and watch the whole thing go up in flames.
"How are we doing over there Dean?" Caelan inquired brusquely. "We gotta burn this place to the ground and be out of here ASAP!"
"Yeah, I know," Dean replied, a hint of exasperation within his tone even as he tried to keep his tone soft and soothing, trying to coax his brother out of the box. "You take care of … them and let me get Sammy calmed down without the sound of glass breaking every five fucking seconds!"
Caelan met Dean's gaze, worried about the fury within his friend's voice before he realised that it was more frustration and hurt because he couldn't coax his brother out of there. What Dean needed was peace and quiet and for Caelan to disappear as well if he was going to have any chance of convincing Sam to come out of the box willingly.
Caelan could have felt hurt by Dean's desire for him to exit the room, but Caelan knew from experience that Sammy only ever trusted Dean … especially if he was sick or hurt.
"I'll be outside if you need me," Caelan told Dean with a nod of agreement as he grabbed the bag of torture weapons and images of Sam Winchester being tortured and exited the room, striding quickly outside to place the back in the back seat of the Impala while he went back inside and carried both Peter Stewart and Hank Adams outside and dumped them outside, close by the Impala, not knowing what to do with them now.
Normally in this type of situation; Caelan would call Caleb, Bobby or Pastor Jim to assist him in the covering up of their tracks. But with other Hunters involved … and two of the oldest and well respected families in the hunting community … who knew how far this reached? Could Caelan really trust his friends anymore or were they all alone in this war that seemed to be with other Hunters?
TBC