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. Dark chapter, contains sexual content.
Disclaimer: I don't own the supernatural characters.
Author's Note: Just another possibility on why Sam left for Stanford. Hope you enjoy.
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 EIGHTEEN
Sam gasped, panicking as he found himself back at the warehouse, his arms shackled to the work-bench. He opened his mouth to scream when he felt rough hands sliding over his body, but nothing came out except a guttural, distressed moan.
No! No! No!
This isn't real! Get me out of here!
Not real! Not real!
Sam could feel the whip upon his naked back as Sam arched … screaming his pain through the gag while low chuckles of delight echoed after each one of his screams.
No!
Dean! Help me! Wake me up! Please … I don't want to go through this again … Dean … please …
Sam saw the man with deep blue eyes grin up at him and that's when Sam lost the ability to differentiate between what was real, what had happened and what was happening now as he spiralled down into the horrific memory, experiencing everything all over again.
"I'm going to make your body want me so bad that you'll be begging for sexual release." The man with blue eyes promised, his blonde hair tickling Sam's earlobe, feeling the hands travelling lower and lower … the whip still cracking painfully upon his back … the hands sliding onto his groin and Sam couldn't help his body's instant reaction to that touch; as much as he hated and felt betrayed by his own body, Sam had no control over that reaction, checks burning with shame and embarrassment, tears slipping from his eyes, silently begging … pleading with them to stop … Please stop …
"See, I told you," blue eyes laughed at Sam as his hands slowly massaged is groin moving closer and closer … "Soon, you'll be screaming my name in ecstasy!" Blue eyes declared, the whip striking his buttocks now in time with the hands that stroked … as another pair of hands ran down the length of his bloody back, hot breath against his neck … "See, I told you you'd like it." Blue eyes gloated, pleased by what he had accomplished. "I told you that you'd be begging me for more!" …
No!
Sam gasped, eyes flying wide open in panic, instinctively pulling away from the gentle but firm hands that encircled his waist as he jerked his body out of Dean's gasp.
Sam felt the sensation of falling to the ground, reflectively gagging as he tried to scrub that memory, that image from his mind; trying not to drown, trying to remember that he was safe now, Dean had found him, Dean had saved him!
"Dean!" Sam wailed pitifully from the ground, barely any volume in his voice, the violent spasms of gagging overtaking him; desperately wanting Dean to come and take this all away; to somehow make this all better; to make it all disappear so that Sam doesn't have to remember … doesn't have to relive how his own body had betrayed him, how his own body had craved for the touch …
"Dean!" Sam called again, his voice stronger, louder, panicked as shame and embarrassment tried to claim him now. "DEAN!"
"It's okay Sammy, I'm here. I'm here buddy, you're safe now. It's okay; I've got you little brother."
Warm, comforting hands encircled Sam, cradling him, soothing him and Sam instantly felt himself relax as he moulded himself into the arms that surrounded him.
"Dee!" Sam sobbed, his head cradled under his brother's chin and Sam could feel his brother's deep rumbling voice; the voice and the familiar embrace calming him almost instantly. "I'm sorry," Sam choked out, hiding his head in shame. "I'm sorry Dean, I couldn't … I couldn't stop …"
"Ssh, it's okay Sammy," Dean said softly, running gentle fingers through Sam's hair, feeling the kid relax even more at that comforting and familiar gesture. "No need for apologizes little brother, you have nothing to be sorry for. This isn't your fault … none of it is your fault."
"But … you don't know what happened," Sam said in such a haunted, defeated tone that Dean was almost tempted to pull his gun out and shoot those two sons of bitches dead for making his baby brother ever sound like this.
"Doesn't matter," Dean swiftly interrupted his brother, wanting nothing more than to get rid of that tone from his kid brother's voice. "It's not your fault Sammy," Dean repeated in conviction. "None of it is your fault, do you hear me?"
SW DW JW SW DW JW SW DW JW SW DW JW SW
John's first instinct was to call on Pastor Jim Murphy for help … and if it had been anything other than a dead body, John would have made that call in a heartbeat.
Implying, saying or even thinking that Jim Murphy was a part of this organisation and was involved in torturing and brainwashing innocent children into their way of thinking would be akin to John or Dean being involved in hurting and torturing Sammy themselves … it was unthinkable to John to even consider that Jim was in on this whole sordid affair of Hunters going after children or getting rid of other Hunters if they got wind of the great scheme of things or saw something they weren't supposed to see.
As much as John could really use Jim's guidance and counsel right now, he knew that he could never ask Pastor Jim to help him get rid of a body. And not just any body, but a Hunter's body.
Although Jim would understand why John had had no choice but to kill this man, John knew that Jim would want no part in helping John dispose of the body and then helping John cover up a murder that John had committed in broad daylight.
No, John would not get his friend involved with accessory to murder – covering up and lying about something this big would rip Jim's moral conscience apart – even though he knew Jim wouldn't hesitate in helping John … especially since it involved Sammy. Jim would do just about anything for John's boys … John knew that he could never use his friend to participate in depositing, destroying and covering up the crime of a murdered man.
Okay, so if Jim was out for now … who else did that leave? Caleb was John's instantaneous answer to that question. All right then, Caleb it was. Quickly John punched in Caleb's number and waited for the younger Hunter to answer.
John soon learned that Caleb was en-route to help out with a situation that involved all three of his sons – Dean, Sam and Caelan – and John knew that he couldn't take Caleb away from that mission. Caelan had called Caleb for help, what kind of help, he hadn't said … only that it was dangerous and could have every potential Hunter after their asses.
That information had made John more determined to finish up his own mission and head toward his sons as fast as he could, feeling panicked and worried about what they had all gotten involved in.
JW DW SW JW DW SW JW DW SW JW DW SW JW
Dean's big brother instincts flared brightly within him, the need to protect Sam warring with the need to rip some bastards lungs out for having hurt his baby brother in the first place!
But, Sammy came first. Always. Sam's needs would always be above anyone else's needs, including his own!
So Dean stayed with his brother – even though he wanted to march down the incline, rip open the Ferrari's door and beat the living shit out of the two Hunters who resided in the back seat – wrapping his arms tightly around his trembling brother's frame, running calm fingers through his hair, talking softly, soothingly in his ear, trying to get the kid to calm down to a more tolerable level where Dean could actually help his brother.
"Easy Sammy, I've got you little bro, I've got you."
After several long minutes, Dean finally felt the tremors within his brother's body begin to easy, Sam's wide, haunted hazel eyes staring up at him, Sam's head resting upon his shoulder.
Sam searched his brother's expression before a tentative, tired smile appeared upon his features. "Dean … you can't do it man," Sam told him, his voice weak, but fill of determination and conviction.
"Can't do what?" Dean frowned in puzzlement.
"You can't kill them." Sam said, looking his brother straight in the eye. "I know that look … and I know that you're only looking out for me, and I appreciate it, but …"
"But what?"
"What they did … was nothing compared to what Sicko did."
"Huh." Dean snorted. "Try telling me something I'll believe Sammy because your reaction to only just seeing those sons of bitches … that was not nothing bro!"
"I didn't say it was nothing," Sam quickly interrupted his brother's angry tirade. "I said that compared to Sicko …" Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It doesn't matter; you're still not going to kill them."
Dean raised his eyebrows, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed by his little brother's over confident statement. "Really? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't." Dean countered.
Sam looked up at Dean, his expressive hazel eyes both calm and pleading at the same time. "Because I'm asking you not to."
Well … Damn!
Dean definitely wasn't expecting that answer. And it left him speechless, gaping at his younger brother like an idiot, while his mouth struggled to form words and speak them in an effort to alleviate the sudden seriousness of the situation.
Sam let out a long, weary sigh. "Please Dean … I need your help to make it to the Impala."
Dean carefully eyed his brother, instantly noticing that Sam was reaching maximum exhaustion level and any minute now he was likely to crash and burn; plus Dean could detect the unspoken words within his brother's statement: Please don't leave me alone, I need you.
Dean let out an irritated huff, unable to deny that lost, pleading expression upon his baby brother's face. "Fine," Dean muttered gruffly. "No killing the damn Hunters this time. But the next time we cross paths … the deal's off … understand?"
"Got it," Sam agreed in relief, allowing his brother to help him to his feet as a wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over him.
"It's okay Sammy, I've got you." Dean whispered soothingly into Sam's ear as the two of them slowly made their way down the incline, toward Caelan and toward the Impala; Dean trying his best to keep his anger under control, continually reminding himself of the promise he had just made to his younger brother.
There shall be no killing today … but tomorrow … tomorrow you bastards will be mine. And I will make you pay for what you did to my baby brother. Dean promised himself, turning to give the two Hunters in the Ferrari a half-smile filled with promise and deadly intent.
DW SW CH DW SW CH DW SW CH DW SW CH DW
Caelan's eyes widened when he spotted the Winchester siblings making their way – at an excruciating snail's crawl – toward them, Dean practically dragging a nearly unresponsive and incoherent Sam Winchester beside him, whispering soothingly into the boy's ear – because even though Sam was technically a man, Sam would always be the snot-nosed little boy that Caelan had baby-sat for many years ago – Sam's head flopped onto his chest, looking as if he was going to keel over at any second now.
Instinctively, Caelan rushed toward the two Winchesters, wanting to help Dean with the burden of carrying Sam to the Impala, but one look from Dean – his green eyes flashing dangerously, protectively, accusingly – stopped Caelan dead in his tracks as he tilted his head to the side, frowning slightly in confusion at Dean's almost aggressive attitude toward him.
"What the fuck are those two sons of bitches still doing here Cal?" Dean demanded, his voice low, gruff, fill of murderous intent as he tugged Sam impossibly closer to his side protectively, shooting wrathful glances to the two occupants in the Ferrari 360.
"Yeah, I know, sorry," Caelan murmured nervously, shooting a worried, guilty look in Sam's direction. "I was hoping to have them out of here before you guys showed up but … Caleb's still twenty minutes out and I'm not exactly sure what to do with them anyway." Caelan admitted, biting upon his bottom lip worriedly as Dean gave him an incredulous look.
"You called Caleb?! Have you completely lost your mind?!" Dean hissed, deliberately keeping his voice low so as not to frighten the young man beside him. "In case you haven't noticed, we are obviously dealing with a group of Hunters who have been hurting and fucking with my little brother's mind for years! How the hell could you call in another Hunter when we don't know who exactly is involved in this?"
"I know Dean," Caelan replied to his clearly irate friend. "But this is Caleb and I trust Caleb with my life!" Caelan declared passionately. "That man has saved my life – and both yours and Sam's lives – on numerous occasions. Don't you think that if Caleb had anything to do with this, we would have known by now?"
"We didn't even know that Hunters had been "punishing" my brother for years until a few hours ago!" Dean retorted vehemently. "I'm sorry Cal, but I don't know who I can trust at the moment."
Caelan saw the fear resonating within Dean's deep green eyes – fear, not for himself but for his brother – and Caelan let out his agitation in a soft huff. "Dean, I get it, I understand, okay? But we can't handle this alone man. I think … I don't think that Stewart and Adams are behind this – involved, definitely – but they aren't the masterminds Dean. There's something … larger at play here man, and until we know what exactly is going on …" Caelan shrugged miserably, helplessly. "I just … we need help dude, and Caleb … I know he's on our side. You have to trust me on this Dean, Caleb's one of the good guys."
Dean hesitated, knowing Caelan was right and that they had to trust someone, but right at this moment, all Dean could think about was protecting his little brother and getting him to a God damned hospital so that he could try and put this kid back together again.
"Caleb's … not … involved."
Both Caelan and Dean turned to look at Sam as Sam struggled to raise his head enough to look both men in the eyes.
"Caleb's not involved," Sam repeated, his voice stronger, his hazel eyes clear and fill of conviction. "Caelan's instincts … are good … Dean," Sam turned to Dean nodded in assurance, his smile wobbling upon his lips at the effort that it took for him to complete that simple gesture.
Smile.
An expression everyone took for granted and performed unconsciously and countless times throughout the day; and here Sam was, struggling to keep up and do that one simple little gesture!
Dean let out an explosive sigh, reluctantly nodding his consent, not wanting to argue about this. He had to get his brother put back together! "Fine. You stay here and wait for Caleb. I have to get Sam to a hospital."
CH DW SW JW CH DW SW JW CH DW SW JW CH
If anything Marc said was true – and John believed that every word Marc had spoken was the truth – then other Hunters were responsible for his youngest son's abduction; which meant that while rescuing Sammy, Dean and Caelan had likely come across other Hunters … John could only hope that his boys had more self-control than him and hadn't killed them.
That would be something John would gladly indulge in once getting rid of Marc's dead body. Plus, if anyone was going to get the blame for killing other Hunters, John was only too willing to put himself forward in order to spare Dean and Caelan from the wrath of other Hunters.
After assuring Caleb that he was fine and that Caleb should continue in his current destination to help his boys, John ended the call and continued to drive, looking for a likely spot in order to "hide" the body until he could dispose of it later.
Hunter Code dictated that if a Hunter was to kill a human – because no matter how careful you were, sometimes accidents happened – they should let another Hunter know who could exam the evidence and decide if it was a justified kill or not.
Normally your hunting partner could verify if it was justified or accidental; and these days it was more of a formality than anything else. Even if the kill wasn't justified or accidental, John doubted that any of the other Hunters would give a damn. As long as it didn't happen too often, Hunters would generally turn a blind eye to that rule.
But since the human John had killed was a Hunter – and his partner Hunter – John wanted to do this one by the book. He needed to inform another Hunter of what had happened so that when John did dispose of the body, Hunters wouldn't think that he had deliberately destroyed evidence, linking himself to the murder in order to cover up the fact that John had murdered one of their own.
If John was to dump the body and run … that would in effect be an admission to his guilt, thereby giving free reign for Hunters to come after him and his boys. So, in order to protect his boys, John had to do this the right way.
John ran a hand through his dark hair as he checked his rear-view mirror absently, noting the non-descript car behind him.
John was about to return his attention back to the road when the peculiar anxious, paranoid feeling that had assaulted John previously when he had been scanning the surrounding area outside of the pub, hit him with full-force once again.
John frowned slightly as he looked more closely at the car that was behind him. There was nothing special about the car; nothing that screamed Watch out, this guy is tailing you! It was a non-descript Ford Focus.
But something about the vehicle produced John's instincts to scream into life. And it wasn't until now that John realised that he had seen this car before. It was sitting outside of the pub before John had slit the throat of his traitorous friend.
TBC