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 FOURTEEN
Slowly Dean inched closer to his trembling, traumatized younger brother who was on the verge of having one hell of a panic-attack, talking to Sam in a low, calm, soothing voice. It didn't matter what Dean said as long as his voice and tone reached his brother before dealing with a full-blown panic-attack.
Touch, Dean recalled, had helped to anchor Sammy in the past when he was in the middle of a massive panic-attack; so Dean reached forward and placed a hand upon Sam's left knee, disregarding Sam's automatic flinch at Dean's touch.
"Easy little brother … it's just me, Dean … c'mon little man, breathe for me, nice and slow … that's it, deep breaths Sammy, in through the nose and out through the mouth … good man, that's it baby brother, you're doing great."
Several minutes later, Dean observed that Sam's breathing had basically returned back to normal. Great; thank goodness, crisis averted for the time being. Now, for the tricky part … trying to convince his brother to come out of there!
Slowly Dean began to spell out Sam's name with his finger-tip upon Sam's left knee – something Dean recalled doing when Sam had suffered the worst periods of his panic-attacks and his obsessive clinginess. Normally he would trace the names upon the back of Sam's hand, but with how his brother was reacting to Dean's mere presence … the knee was the closest contact that Dean could get to at the moment – smiling softly when he noticed his brother's eyes move down to gaze at Dean's finger which was tracing Sam's name upon his knee.
Finally! Now, we were getting somewhere!
After Dean had spelled out Sam's full name – including his middle and last – Dean started to spell out his own name, still talking to his brother gently and calmly; patiently waiting for Sam before he made the next move (even though Dean's instinct was to pull Sam out of there as quickly as possible!).
But, Dean knew if he did that, then Sam would definitely have one helluva massive meltdown! It had been bad enough dealing with a ten-year old panic-stricken brother; lord knows how he'd cope with a fully grown, fully freaked out, taller than him, little brother! No, Dean had to take this nice and slow. It would be better for the both of them in the long run.
Finishing off his own name, Dean proceeded to spell out their Dad's name, Sam's body tremors beginning to ease, unconsciously moving closer toward Dean, his eyes blinking rapidly as he watched Dean spell out their father's name, quickly followed by their mother's name.
"How you doing Sammy?" Dean asked quietly, finishing off their mother's first name and moving onto her last name. "You think you're almost ready to come out of there, little man? Cause … as much as I'd love to, I don't think I can come in there after you. No room left for me when your gigantic butt is in there!"
Dean chuckled dryly as he finished spelling out their mother's name, seeing a deep shudder run through the length of Sam's body as his previously clouded, distrustful and suspicious eyes cleared and Dean could see shock and recognition enter Sam's hazel eyes.
Sam blinked at him, a slight frown of confusion forming upon his brow. "Dean? Wh-what are you doing here? Where the hell am I?"
"It's okay Sammy," Dean replied, tears of relief in his eyes. "I'll explain everything to you, I promise … but first, let's get you out of here, okay?"
Sam nodded, automatically reaching out his right hand toward his brother, his gaze sweeping around his surroundings; an instinct ingrained in him and taught to him by his Dad at an early age (Always be aware of your surroundings boys; look for hidden threats or traps in the darkness; be aware, be alert, be safe; any detail, no matter how small could be the difference between you surviving or you winding up dead).
Sam's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in fear. "D-Dean?" he stammered, his bottom lip quivering violently as he fought to control the panic that wanted to overwhelm and consume him. "I – I don't want to be in here. Ple-please get me out of this box!" he whispered, large tears gathering within his hazel eyes. "Please D-Dee … please …"
DW SW JW DW SW JW DW SW JW DW SW JW DW
"So, what happens now?" John asked, his stoic expression once more in place. "Are you going to kill me now?"
Marc shrugged his shoulders, looking almost bored. "Sorry Johnny, but I did warn you that this would be the last that we would see of each other. I know you overheard me on the phone call I had with my son earlier. I just thought I would do the honourable thing and tell you why before you die."
"Wow, I'm flattered Marc," John spat out sarcastically. "That you would dirty your hands and kill me yourself."
"Yes … well, technically I won't have been the one to kill you; a semi-truck will do the deed for me." Marc shook his head and mock-tutted at John. "How many times have I told you not to drink and drive Johnny? It's dangerous for you to fall asleep at the wheel and steer into on-coming traffic … especially a truck!"
Marc clapped his hands gleefully, laughing at his own poor excuse of humour. "Sorry Johnny; but I can't have you in the way of ruining my revenge. I know you won't let me just kill your son … but with you out of the way … it's going to be much easier for me to start the reconditioning once again. After all, little Sammy did break the "agreement" and contact Caelan, asking for help. No contact means no contact. Guess I'm just going to have to teach him that lesson all over again!"
"You son of a bitch!" John hissed, lunging toward Marc in furious out-rage. "You won't ever lay a hand on my boy ever again! Even if you manage to kill me – and that's a big "if" Marc – Dean will never allow you to get close to Sammy ever again!" John declared confidently.
"Maybe," Marc said, unperturbed by John's statement. "But I think I will be able to get around Dean's defences. After all, your boys do have one weakness. All I have to do is threaten Sammy and Dean will do whatever I say … much like how we finally managed to convince little Sammy to leave you all behind."
"You threatened to hurt Dean," John said, everything about that time beginning to make perfect sense now; and why Sam hadn't answered any of their calls or tried to contact any of them in the two years he had been attending Stanford.
John had assumed it was because his youngest son was selfish and wanted out of the hunting life so completely that he wanted nothing to do with any of it – including being around his family – only to discover that this SOB had basically black-mailed Sammy into leaving and staying away by threatening his older brother.
"You are dead Marc!" John told the man, his tone low, dangerous and fill of promise. "You hear me? I am going to fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!"
"Yeah, that I'd like to see, considering you will be just another causality in my own personal war within the next half an hour." Marc smiled smugly, gesturing for John to get to his feet. "Come on Johnny, it's time for you to face your destiny … unless, of course, you would rather little Sammy take your place … or how bout Dean instead?"
John swore profusely as he slowly got to his feet, knowing that he could do nothing until he was sure of his youngest son's safety. Come on Dean, John silently willed his oldest to hurry up, knowing that time was beginning to run out for all of them.
JW DW SW JW DW SW JW DW SW JW DW SW JW
Quickly, Dean placed his hands upon his brother's face and gently guided Sam's eyes to meet his own eyes. "Look at me Sammy," Dean commanded in a soft voice. "I'm getting you out of here, okay?"
"Okay," Sam gasped, his eyes frantically searching the boxes walls, his breathing beginning to quicken in alarm.
"Sammy! Look at me!" Dean repeated a little louder, gently tapping his brother's check to get his attention.
Sam's eyes moved to Dean briefly before they once again focused upon the walls.
"No, Sammy!" Dean couldn't help but moan, noticing by his brother's agitation that Sam would be totally freaking out in a matter of minutes! "Come on dude, we've already been through this," Dean sighed in exasperation as he gently inched forward and placed his forehead against Sam's, hoping to block out Sam's line of sight so that he could focus on Dean once more. "Sammy, dude, I need you to look at me."
Instinctively, Sam tried to pull away from Dean's close proximity but Dean's hold about Sam's head, held Sam in place. "Dean … I'm … I'm … scared," Sam reluctantly admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, his hazel eyes holding a vulnerability that Dean hadn't seen since his brother had been very small (not long after Sam's tenth birthday, if Dean recalled correctly, after discovering that Caelan's Dad had been killed in a hunt).
"I know Sammy; I know you are," Dean said, gently wiping the stray tears from his brother's checks. "But I'm here now Sammy. Nothing bad is going to happen to you while I'm around, okay?"
Sam swallowed hard, his body tensing, looking far from convinced at Dean's words.
Not that Dean could blame him! After all, look what had been done to him on Dean's watch – not just now, but years ago – when his brother had been hurting and in pain while Dean allowed those fuck-heads to …
"Sammy, I know I've failed you, okay? And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry that I didn't put it all together until now. But I'm here now little brother, and if you let me … if you still trust me … then, I need you to look at me, okay buddy?"
"Of course I trust you Dean," Sam frowned at his brother's words, his eyes coming to rest upon Dean's. "I always have trusted you and I always will!" he declared passionately.
Dean swallowed the large lump of emotion within his throat, squeezing the back of his brother's neck in both a reassuring gesture and conveying his gratitude at his brother's words. "Okay then Sam … what do you say we get you out of this God damned box and then you can help me burn this fucking place down to the ground?" Dean couldn't help but grin at Sam's slow, wide smile of acceptance to that plan.
DW SW CH DW SW CH DW SW CH DW SW CH DW
Ten minutes after Caelan had placed the call to Caleb for assistance; fuck-head number one and fuck-head number two – or better known as Peter Stewart and Hank Adams – regained consciousness and glared at Caelan hatefully.
"You better untie me and let me out of here," Peter tried to sound threatening and intimidating, but because of his broken nose, his voice came out sounding nasally and more sick sounding than threatening.
"Or what?" Caelan couldn't help but taunt, an amused smirk upon his face, his tone almost condescending. "Are the two of you gonna kick my butt?" Caelan snorted, clearly amused by that prospect. "Please! You guys are … infants compared to what I'm used to facing. Sorry to tell you this Stewart, but you, your father and your wealth … you're not half as scary as you think you are."
Peter glowered at Caelan darkly. 'My father will have you skinned alive for doing this to me!" he declared in a strong, confident voice.
Caelan tried to take a moment to calm himself and not let Peter Stewart's words get under his skin; but where the hell did this prick get off acting all high and mighty like he was the innocent one here, and hadn't just been caught red-handed involved in kidnapping and torturing a fellow Hunter?!
Before Caelan was even consciously aware of his actions, he'd planted both hands upon either side of the rear-right window of Stewart's beloved Ferrari 360, towering over Peter in a threatening pose, his brown eyes flashing with rage, hiding his smile of satisfaction when Peter gulped nervously and backed away from Caelan's intimidating form.
"I have had enough of your crappy threats Stewart!" Caelan snarled, his voice low, deep, deadly. "You and your … shadow here are in some serious fucking shit right now. You do know what happens to people who go after other Hunters for no reason, right?"
Peter swallowed back his obvious fright before he calmly smiled at Caelan, his cocky, self-assured attitude once more in place, staring down at Caelan as if he was nothing more than an ant to be squashed. "I honestly don't think the other Hunters will have a problem with this." Peter said confidently, arrogantly, grinning widely at Caelan's obvious confusion. "Technically, Sam Winchester is no longer a Hunter. Everyone knows that he got out of the hunting life two years ago. So, basically Sammy Winchester is fair game!"
Caelan slammed his hands against the car door hard enough to shake it as both Peter and Hank looked at him in surprise. "You don't get to call him that Stewart!" Caelan growled low in his throat. "After what I saw … not to mention the tapes and pictures of you sadistic fucks in various positions torturing an obviously secure and unwilling Sam Winchester … my brother … do you honestly think you will get away with that?"
Caelan paused. "You think you only have to worry about me and Dean? You've heard the stories about John Winchester's infamous temper, right? What the hell do you think he's going to do to you two fuck-heads who had the audacity to not only kidnap his son, but to participate in his youngest son's torture?" Caelan chuckled dryly when he saw both Hunters faces pale drastically at Caelan's words. Finally these fuck-heads knew the true score of their crimes and they were flat-out terrified!
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Sam sat upon one of the executive's chair, his teeth chattering slightly, his brother's shirt tied around his waist, offering Sam some sort of dignity while Dean hunted for either Sam's clothes or something to wrap his naked brother in.
Sam couldn't help but blush at the thought that Dean had seen him naked. But, like Dean had pointed out to him earlier; it wasn't as if Dean hadn't seen it all before … after all, he'd been the one to change his brother's diapers.
Still, this was a bit different to when he had been a toddler and needing his big brother's help to change, bath and dress him. Sam was a full grown adult now … and this was something that Sam never wanted Dean to see … To witness Sam after one of his "punishment" sessions had ended.
But was this even considered a "punishment" session when it had only lasted barely twenty-four hours – considering the other sessions lasted for at least two weeks and a minimum of five days to recover before he was allowed to return home to his father and brother … and the date was wrong. This was only supposed to happen on the anniversary of his mother's death … not on his birthday; never on his birthday … except for that one time when he'd turned eighteen, and if Sicko was to believed, then apparently it had happened on his tenth birthday as well.
Oh God, was this some kind of new trend? Once a year was bad enough, Sam honestly didn't think he could cope if it was going to happen twice a year!
"If that's how it's gonna be, then I'll just blow my fucking brains out right now!" Sam muttered to himself.
"What did you just say?" Dean demanded, appalled and shocked as he whirled around to face his brother, a murderous expression within his green eyes.
Sam blinked at Dean, bewildered by his brother's violent reaction, having no clue as to what had set his older brother off this time.
Dean retraced his steps back to his brother, his search forgotten as his green eyes darkened with worry, hoping that he had misheard his little brother's words because there was no way that he was letting Sam ever do that. Never going to happen! Not on his watch!
"Did I just hear you say you were going to blow your brains out?"
Sam gaped at Dean, flabbergasted. How had Dean known that? Was he some kind of mind-reader? "I didn't say that. I only thought it." Sam defended himself weakly.
Dean scoffed loudly as he rolled his eyes. "Sorry little brother, you definitely said it. And even if you didn't … why the hell would you think something like that anyway?"
"No. No, I don't want to blow my brains out." Sam denied quickly. "I was just thinking that this whole thing was wrong. Wrong date; wrong duration; wrong everything! And I know I wouldn't cope if it became a … regular occurrence, twice a year instead of once, so …" Sam shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "The easiest and quickest solution would be to blow my brains out."
Sam saw his brother's jaw clenching; a sure sign that Dean's anger was about to explode. Sam grabbed his brother's arm, Dean looking at him in surprise as Sam desperately tried to explain why he would even think about doing such a … horrible thing to himself.
"Listen to me Dean," Sam began sternly, but seriously. "I can't go through this again. I can't …" Sam swallowed hard, trying to convey his words into a way that Dean would understand. "I nearly lost my mind man; and I'm barely holding it together as it is." Sam half-sobbed, half-laughed. "I was on the brink of catching a one-way ticket to crazy town!"
"Sammy –"
"No Dean … I only barely managed to pull myself back from the brink." Sam paused, blinking back the moisture from his eyes. "I would rather die than be a patient in a mental hospital, hallucinations and drooling and … fuck knows what else dude!
But that ain't me Dean! I don't want to be locked up in some nut house … lost within my own mind." Sam's gaze slid over to the "box" and Dean could see the terror reflected within his large hazel eyes.
"Dean, I can't go back in there," he whispered, pleading with Dean to understand. "It will kill me if I have to ever go back in there again!"
TBC