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.
Special Note: Special thanks to Kas3y for your kind words of encouragement. 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 SIXTEEN
Finally, after what seemed like a life-time Dean emerged from the abandoned warehouse, practically shouldering all of his brother's weight now, Sam's head hanging low, sweating and shaking profusely, his expression lined with pain as he fought to take shallow breaths – even though his body was screaming at him to take deep breaths – because of his cracked, possibly broken ribs.
"Let's rest here a minute Sammy," Dean said, pulling the trembling young man closer toward him, widening his stance so that he could take the full weight of both himself and his brother.
"Thanks." Sam whispered, completely out of breath as he tried to control the waves of pain that radiated and spasmed throughout his entire body. God, he just wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep away everything that had happened and was now likely to happen because of what had transpired here today.
Ever since Sam had returned to a semblance of "normal" thinking – sometimes he couldn't help the odd things that he saw within his mind, but he was at least able to tell that those images weren't happening right at this moment or weren't true at all – he couldn't help but think that he was … forgetting something.
Sam was sure that he had forgotten lots of things … but this … it was something that Sicko had taunted him with, trying to break Sam even further before they had shoved him in that dreaded box!
Sam shuddered violently at that thought, Dean's hold automatically tightened protectively around him.
"You okay Sammy?" Dean inquired softly, knowing that he had to get his brother medical help, but also knowing that Sam wouldn't appreciate it if Dean just took Sam into his arms and carried him over to the Impala, depositing him the passenger seat as Dean took off to the nearest hospital in order to get his brother's injuries seen to as quickly as possible!
His kid brother, even as beaten and broken as he was, still had his pride and stubbornness intact. Sam would have to be knocked out cold before he ever allowed Dean to carry him bridal-style to the car. Dean couldn't help but grin at the mental image that thought produced. Still, if Sam's condition worsened, Dean would throw his brother's pride out the window and carry his brother to the car any damn way he wanted as long as it would get his brother the help and attention that he needed!
"Yeah," Sam hissed through clenched teeth, obviously lying through his teeth, but Dean decided not to push the issue right now, knowing that his little brother was as far from "okay" as you could get.
"Keep … thinking I've … for … gotten … some … thing," Sam panted as he slowly raised his head to look at his big brother, his light brown hair falling awkwardly into his eyes.
Dean resisted the temptation to push the hair from his brother's face, knowing the bitch-face he would receive for that action. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about little brother. Knowing you it's probably some term paper that you forgot to hand in today!" Dean smirked at the disapproving scowl that comment elicited from his geeky little brother.
"Wasn't a … term paper …" Sam stated, pouting slightly. "Something he said … something … to do with … Dad. Oh shit! Dean … think Dad might be … in … trouble!"
Immediately Sam straightened up, his eyes almost bulging out of his sockets, clearly panicked as he pushed away from Dean and attempted to walk as quickly as he could to the Impala, eager to get to Dad and help him before it was too late.
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"You're full of shit!" Peter Stewart screamed at Caelan, his fear turning to anger now. "There's no way that you would allow anyone to see your precious Sammy in that kind of position!" Peter glared up at Caelan defiantly, that trade-mark arrogant smile of his gracing his lips, knowing that he had called Caelan's bluff and won.
Because the jerk was right. There was no way that Caelan would subject the youngest Winchester to anymore humiliation or embarrassment over this. The poor kid had been through enough. But that's why it was also important for Caelan to track down the person responsible for this and to make him pay for everything he had done to Sammy!
"I doubt you'd be defending Sam Winchester if you knew the truth Hagen!" Peter snarled, desperate to regain the upper-hand in this situation once more.
"What are you talking about?" Caelan asked, knowing that he shouldn't give Peter the opportunity to regain any ground that he had lost since being captured by Dean and Caelan, but Caelan was curious … and a tad amused … to see what secret Peter could offer about the youngest Winchester that Caelan didn't know.
Peter's smile grew broader, levelling Caelan with a knowing look. "That boy – your brother – the one that you've been so desperate to defend, protect and avenge … Did you know that little Sammy Winchester had a part in your dear Daddy's demise?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Caelan growled, through with playing games with this clown. Especially if he was going got make up some ridiculous lie that involved Sam being responsible for his Dad's death!
"Sam Winchester, son of Hunter John Winchester, your friend, comrade, brother-in-arms, who decided to go straight and live a normal life … he is directly responsible for your father's death all those years ago!"
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Two steps in and Sam's right knee buckled from under him, Sam nearly having a close encounter with the concrete before strong and steady hands pulled him up, preventing Sam from kissing the ground.
"Whoa, easy Sammy," Dean said, holding Sam steady, watching as tears of pain breeched his brother's defences, his hiss of breaths sounding more like sobs of pain. "I'm sure that wherever Dad is, he's fine. Besides, even if we could get to him … you are in no state to be roughing it up with other potential Hunters!"
Sam frowned at Dean's words, knowing that they were true, but if Sam had indirectly gotten Dad in trouble, then he had to do everything he could to help his Dad, no matter what. Sam prepared to pull out the best and most effective weapon in his arsenal … the puppy-eyed look; the look that Sam knew Dean could never refuse, no matter how mad or upset he was at his brother.
Dean groaned loudly when Sam gave him "the look", Sam's bottom lip trembling violently, his wide eyes huge and pleading, blinking at his big brother innocently.
"No Sammy!" Dean growled, closing his eyes so that his brother's "puppy power" couldn't work it's magic on the older Winchester sibling. "Not this time little brother. You are in no shape to be sitting in the Impala for hours end. We need to get your wounds seen to."
Dean reopened his eyes, not missing the disappointed look within his brother's hazel eyes. "When all of your bones are back where they should be and your wounds are treated … I promise we will go after Dad if we haven't heard anything, okay? And if it makes you feel any better, I'll text Dad now, and let him know that we found you. You never know, Dad will probably message me back straight away and you will have been panicking over nothing."
No! This wasn't okay! But Sam knew by the determined, obstinate look upon his big brother's features that this was as close to a compromise as Sam was going to get. "Okay Dean," Sam nodded in compliance, waiting patiently as Dean sent a short text message to their Dad before the two brothers slowly eased down the path that would eventually bring them to Dean's beloved Impala.
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John was standing to his feet when he felt his phone vibrate within his front right pocket, faking a stumble, John quickly took his phone out and silently read the message before putting his phone back without Marc being any wiser, suspecting John's stagger as being alcohol related.
"Whoa Johnny, a little too much to drink there, aye mate? Don't worry; I'll get you home safely in a jiffy!" Marc said, his voice dripping with disdain and sarcasm, chuckling in self-satisfaction at a plan being well executed.
John supressed the smirk that wanted to take shape on his lips, the message from Dean reverberating through his mind: Got Sammy, will be taking him to hospital, will explain when you get here, let me know if you're okay or need back-up.
Sammy was safe. That's all John needed to know and now … now he could kill this son of a bitch without any repercussions for his actions.
Unfortunately, John couldn't make this man's death be as painfully long and drawn out as he wanted because they were out in the open and the threat of eyewitnesses was too great for John to linger with it for too long.
Wobbling, as if he had lost his balance, John lurched to the side. "Think I'm gonna be sick … " John muttered as he fell to his knees and made dry-retching sounds, pretending to be sick, the sounds covering up the subtle noises he made when he pulled his knife from its sheath.
"Really John," Marc tutted in a disgusted tone, and John could see a hypodermic needle within Marc's left hand, the syringe fill with some type of unknown drug – obviously something that would be hard to detect by medical professionals and something that would no doubt keep John "unconscious" until the intended semi-truck ploughed into him and his vehicle – as Marc grabbed John's hair and pulled his head backward, Marc's pale blue orbs brimming with disappointment.
"I expected you to put up much better of a fight than this. I guess it's poetic justice really; you didn't have want it took to keep Mary safe from The Demon and your demonic off-spring; and now you don't have what it takes to stop me from killing you and then killing that damn Demon Spawn – previously known as little Sammy – after I teach him a thing or two about broken agreements and respect!"
John's eyes narrowed, growling deeply within his throat at this madman's threats, and before Marc could plunge the needle into John's arm, dispensing the contents of the drug into his system, John stood up with such speed that it took Marc completely by surprise as John quickly positioned himself behind his traitorous friend and with a quick motion, slashed the man's throat open.
Marc's wide, panicked, shocked eyes sought out John, unable to believe that he had been bested, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood with his own hands.
"That's for my wife; Connor and my baby boy, you sick fucker! Now go to hell where you belong!" John snarled, watching with satisfaction as the life and light drained out of Marc Ley-Lamp's pale blue orbs, knowing that the fight for his youngest son's life and soul had only just begun, but at least this son of a bitch could never hurt Sammy or any other child ever again!
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"Come on Sammy," Dean gently coaxed his younger brother, knowing by the soft whimpers that his brother made that Sam was in agonizing and excoriating pain, stubbornly refusing to let Dean carry him the rest of the way as Sam continually put one foot in front of the other, determined to make the trek to the Impala on his own steam … his own legs.
"No," Sam ground out through gritted teeth becoming slightly annoyed at Dean's instance to carry him to the Impala as though he was some invalid or simpleton not capable of walking to the damn car.
Didn't Dean understand why Sam had to do this? It was much more than because of his pride and stubbornness (although that was part of the reason). This was about Sam proving to the SOBS who had done this to him that they hadn't succeeded in breaking him. He was stronger than they gave him credit for and although his body may be bloody, beaten, twisted and broken … his mind and spirit were still intact and more determined than ever to prove them wrong. He was more than just a Demon Spawn. He was Sam Winchester, John Winchester's son; Dean Winchester's little brother and it would take more than what these assholes had done to him to break him!
Although … if they shoved him back in that damn box again, Sam didn't know if he could ever recover from something like that. It was hard enough as it was right now to keep his mind focused on the present and not go drifting off into previous scenes of torture that his frazzled mind continued to show him.
Sam bit his bottom lip, constantly urging himself to keep it together for just a little longer … at least until they had put this place behind them within the rear-view mirror, leaving a trail of dust behind them as they sped away in the Impala.
Not only did Sam have something to prove to the SOBS who had … tortured him, but he also had something to prove to himself. He knew that Dean wouldn't think any less of him if Sam suddenly decided enough was enough and allowed Dean to carry him the rest of the way … but Sam would think less of himself if he did that. In an odd, fucked up, weird way … if Sam gave up now by allowing his brother to carry him, then Sam had let those bastards win. They would know how truly broken and messed up Sam really was. And no matter what, Sam would not allow them – or anyone – to see how totally screwed up he really was at the moment.
"Sam, dude, let me help you." Dean said, his tone pleading and insistent, wincing in sympathy at every painful step that his brother took, knowing how much of an effort and toll this was taking out on his already weakened brother. "You have nothing to prove man … not to me."
"I know." Sam said, his tone softening at the worry he could hear within his brother's voice. "And you are helping Dean. Wouldn't … be able … to walk there … without you." Sam turned to give Dean a lop-sided grin that looked more like a grimace of pain – or that he was constipated and needed to take a dump really badly – but Dean appreciated the effort.
Dean opened his mouth about to argue with his headstrong little brother until he saw a look within the depths of Sam's hazel eyes and Dean finally understood why Sam was determined to do this.
Power, control, pride.
Sammy didn't want them to have any more power or control over him than they had already. He was determined to prove to them – and everyone else – that no one controlled his life except him and he was through letting these sons of bitches push him around.
"Okay dude," Dean relented with a sigh, not entirely happy about this decision but understanding why Sam was so hell-bent on doing this, as he tightened his hold about his trembling brother, more determined than ever to take on more of Sam's weight to help make Sam's trek to the car a little easier; instinctively knowing that the only reason Sam was still upright and standing was through his sheer will-power alone. His body wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere in an unconscious heap, but his mind urged him to continue even though it looked as if Sam was going to keel over any second now.
"Sonuvabitch!" Dean hissed, his eyes widening in shock and anger when he saw … "Caelan Hagen … why is that piece of crap car parked next to my baby?!" Dean demanded in a loud, irritated voice, becoming even more annoyed when it appeared as if his friend hadn't heard him.
"I am going to kick his scrawny ass for parking that monstrosity next to my baby!" Dean growled, muttering other colourful curses and threats under his breath as he struggled down the path with the extra – almost dead – weight of his younger brother.
Sam looked up, startled by the sound of his brother's voice and couldn't suppress the smirk when he saw the flashy red Ferrari 360 parked next to the sleek black classic 1967 Chevy Impala. No wonder his brother was fuming, uttering extreme words of threats and impending violence beside him.
The smirk slipped from Sam's expression a moment later when he realised that two people were sitting within the Ferrari, securely bound, Caelan appearing to be in a very deep and angry discussion with them.
A cold finger of dread wormed it's way down the length of Sam's spine, his breath catching in his throat when he realised who the occupants in the car were.
"Easy Sammy," Dean soothed, shooting his brother an anxious glance out of the corner of his eye, hoping that his muttered string of curses and threats would distract the kid long enough for them to slip past the morons who had terrorized and traumatized his baby brother and into the safety of the Impala.
But, as usual, Sam never did things the easy way! This kid was too clever and smart for this own good sometimes.
Dean pulled his brother closer toward him, offering Sam all of the love, support and encouragement that he could, trying to remind Sam that he was not alone this time; the patented, confident Dean Winchester smirk flashing upon his lips. "Don't worry about those sons of bitches Sam; I won't let them lay one single damn finger on you! I mean, they'd have to be seriously stupid to try something like that with both me and Caelan around. One wrong move … or even a look from them, and I will have great pleasure in rearranging their ugly mugs!" Dean declared, pleased to note that his brother's posture seemed to relax at Dean's presence and words.
"Okay." Sam breathed, straightening up, a look of fierce determination crossing his face as he looked at his big brother and nodded. "I'm ready Dean, let's go."
Dean lightly squeezed Sam's shoulder before letting go, so damn proud of his kid brother right now. Dean didn't know if he'd have the strength to face his … tormentors so soon after being tortured and beaten by those sadistic fucks. But here Sam was, squaring his shoulders, about to look upon the faces of two of the people who had harmed him, a steely resolve reflected within his hazel eyes, determined not to show any fear or weakness in front of these … fuck-heads, proving what Dean had always know about his baby brother: Sam Winchester wasn't weak; Sammy was one of the strongest people that Dean knew!
TBC