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. Hope you enjoy.
Special Note: Special thanks to Kas3y for your kind reviews. 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 TWENTY
"How are you doing kiddo?" Dean asked, seeing his brother's face contort into lines of extreme pain, worried and concerned because of how quiet Sam had become since leaving the abandoned warehouse behind them.
"Okay," Sam gasped, shifting slightly in the seat to try and relieve the pressure he was putting upon his sensitive lower extremities, but the slight shift of position – although helping a little with his rear-end – caused a wave of pain to cascade throughout the rest of his body.
"Fuck!" Sam swore softly, clenching his teeth together, his body rigid and tense as he tried to ride through the reverberating pain that coursed through the entire length of his body.
Sam had a brief notion to fling the car door open and get out of this cramped and uncomfortable seat, finding a position in which he could spread out his already cramped muscles from spending time within that damn fucking box … and it was only the feel of his brother's hand placed upon his chest in order to clam, soothe and prevent Sam from moving in case he caused more injury to himself which stopped Sam from following through with this plan.
"Easy little brother," Dean said, not able to hide his anxiousness as well as he would have liked when noticing how pale the kid had become as small tremors of pain rocked the frail young man's body beside him. "We're nearly there Sammy," Dean soothed, his tone confident and sure, even as he pressed his foot harder against the accelerator, desperately praying for Caelan to call them soon with instructions on what to do once they reached the hospital.
"How … long …" Sam panted, the effort it was taking him to talk, almost making him pass out cold.
"Not long," Dean assured, his hand moving from Sam's chest to his shoulder, squeezing in gentle reassurance and comfort. "Not too much longer now bro, and then we'll be able to put your body back together, okay?"
Sam nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, bitting upon his bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood. And before he knew what had happened, Sam sunk down into the oblivion of unconsciousness.
Dean panicked when Sam slumped in his seat, but after checking Sam's vitals – breathing, pulse, airway – he was more than relieved when the lines of pain smoothed upon his brother's brow, his body free from pain as he slipped into the abyss of unconsciousness. At least for the moment, his little brother was free from the pain that had consumed him.
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Caelan wasn't looking forward to this at all. Already the two Hunters – well, namely Peter Stewart – was too cocky for his own good despite the horrendous situation that Caelan and Dean had caught them participating in. Now that Caelan had to "ask" him for a favour … he knew that the Hunter would be even more unbearable than before.
Caelan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his thoughts and his mind, knowing that in this situation Peter would have the upper-hand. The key here though was to try and not give Peter all of the bargaining power and there was still one bargaining chip that Caelan had left at his disposal – their freedom – but that was only to be used as a last resort. And Caelan had a feeling that he wouldn't have any other choice but to use the last resort if he was to help his brothers get the attention that they needed.
Squaring his shoulders, a cool, calm, emotionless mask settling over his features, Caelan made his way toward the two Hunters, fear of the unknown shinning within the depths of their eyes, even though they appeared confident and non-afraid on the outside (the Hunter's bluff!).
"What's the matter Hagen? Have your boyfriends left you stranded all by your little old lonesome?" Peter sneered, his voice shaking slightly, his blue eyes fill of fear and doubt.
Caelan smirked as he leaned against the car, recognizing Peter's act for what it was … an act. "I have a proposition for you Stewart," Caelan said, ignoring Peter's comment, knowing that it was said in order to get a rise out of him. And Caelan wasn't bitting, not when he was bargaining with a sick, twisted son of a bitch who enjoyed helping in torturing and scaring his little brother for life!
No, the time for playing games was over. It was time for Caelan to get serious. "And if you're really lucky, you might get out of this without me drastically rearranging your face."
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Dean was almost tempted to pull over and make a full examination of his brother's injuries, but Dean didn't want to disturb Sam's restful slumber, plus he didn't really have a spare twenty minutes checking over his brother's wounds. His main objective was to get Sam some proper medical help as soon as was humanly possible.
Of course, he'd be able to get there a hell of a lot faster if Caelan would call him and let him know what the damn game plan was. Dean glanced down at his phone, that he had placed upon the dash in order to be able to reach it in a hurry if it rung, and almost growled at the lack of activity upon his screen.
Damn Caelan, call me already! Dean urged, gripping the steering-wheel tightly, his jaw clicking back in both frustration and worry for his little brother and now his best friend since it shouldn't be taking him this damn long to get those SOBS to cave into his request! – as he shifted his attention from his phone to his baby brother.
While coaxing his brother out of that damn box – which Dean was so going to melt down at a later stage – Dean had, of course, seen some of the damage inflicted upon Sam's body – bruises, whip marks upon his back, the swelling of his nose, broken left wrist, fucked right knee ( just to name a few injuries he had seen by his quick cursory assessment and examination of his brother ) – but now, as Dean ran a critical eye over his sibling's body, Sam's head rolled to the right away from him, Dean couldn't help but notice a burned patch of skin in between Sam's collar-bone and left shoulder.
Dean frowned, not knowing any kind of weapon or device that could make a mark like this. Wait a minute … were those words there? What the hell was this?
Dean's breath caught in his throat as he realised that it wasn't words he was seeing but letters and numbers (C.R.E.E.D.S, below it were the numbers 666, followed by the letters SL). Dean's jaw clenched tightly in anger as he realised that some bastard had fucking branded his little brother.
Dean had no idea what the letters and numbers actually meant – although 666 wasn't hard to figure out; child of Satan … Demon Spawn – but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to track down the son of a bitch who had done this and give him a damn branding of his own!
Dean knew that it wouldn't have been either Stewart or Adams who had done this – they may be warped in the head – but Dean knew that neither of them had the stomach to do something like this … of course, that didn't mean that Dean wasn't going to ask them about this. And if either of them had done this … But Dean instinctively knew that it was Dead Fucker who had branded his younger brother. This seemed like something he would do.
C.R.E.E.D.S was obviously an acronym for something … some kind of company or organisation … And Dean had already figured out that 666 meant Demon Spawn … so, what the hell did SL mean? Were they initials? Were they Dead Fucker's initials? Had he fucking branded his initials into his baby brother's flesh?!
God damn it, that son of a bitch was a dead man once Dean finally tracked the fucker down! Dean's teeth were clenched so hard that his jaw was starting to ache, his hands grasping the steering-wheel so tightly that they were white as Dean tried to breathe through his rising anger, chancing another glance at his little brother.
Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously, noticing a deepening bruise in the middle of Sam's neck. Was that a fucking hickey?!
Dean swore violently under his breath, vowing to kill Dead Fucker ten times over for not only branding his brother but also marking him as if he thought Sam belonged to him! "Never going to fucking happen!" Dean growled harshly, his heart pounding in rage. Sam didn't belong to anyone … least of all that fucktard!
If anyone had any rights to Sam, then it was Dean. Dean had raised the boy after all. If Sam were to belong to anyone, it would be Dean. Sam was more than a younger brother to the Hunter, he was … like Dean's son. And much like Dean would with any child – but especially Sammy – Dean would fight to protect them from the evil of this world because they were innocent.
In all of the years Dean had hunted either with his father, Caelan or Sam, Dean would always protect the children above anything or anyone else – even at the cost of his own life! – in order to stop the evil from entering their lives like it had done with him and Sammy.
Sometimes Dean failed … and children died; but Dean would make damn sure that the evil son of a bitch who had hurt those children had died screaming in agony and would never be hurting anyone else ever again!
Now, as Dean's "mother" and big brother instincts kicked in, Dean knew that a lot of blood was going to be spilt over this. Because nobody … fucking nobody branded and marked his baby brother like this and expected to live a healthy life!
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Peter Stewart exchanged an anxious glance with Hank Adams, sensing the serious attitude that had come over Hagen, even though his body language portrayed nonchalance. "What is it you want Hagen?" Peter asked, all trace of his fear gone now as he could almost smell the desperate aurora surrounding Hagen, knowing that he could use this to his advantage.
"You need to contact your sister," Caelan said, seeing the look of surprise enter Peter's eyes. "Tell her that you have Hunter's coming in that require medical assistance but his injuries and condition needs to remain out of the "public's eye", if you get my meaning,"
Peter nodded, recognizing the Hunter's code word for what it was. No police or authorities involved. Peter could get on board with that since the last thing in the world he needed was to have his family's name associated with drugging, kidnapping and torture. He'd be the laughing stock of the Hunter's community! And his father would be pissed …
Caelan's eyes fixed upon Peter's holding his gaze. "Dean has to stay with Sammy throughout everything. If Sam is left by himself for even a second … I will have no problem in informing Lizzie of your involvement in Sam's condition."
Caelan couldn't help the brief smile that graced his lips when he saw Peter gulp visibly at his threat. Peter may not care what anyone else thought of him, but if there was one person in this whole world whose opinion meant anything to him then it was it was his older sister's Elizabeth.
"I can do that," Peter agreed before he smirked slyly. "But in order for me to ring her … you're going to have to untie me."
Caelan closed his eyes briefly, considering the odds of Stewart's request. If it was a one on one fight and a fair one, Caelan had no doubt in his mind that he could beat Stewart with both arms tied behind his back.
No, that wasn't the issue. The issue was that Stewart was a sneaky, cunning son of a bitch and if he was smirking at Caelan like that it meant that he had already formulated some kind of plan in order for him to gain the upper-hand.
But Caelan realised that he didn't have any other option other than to concede to Stewart's request. Caelan opened his eyes and gave the death-glare to both Hunters, inclining his head slightly in agreement to Stewart's suggestion. "But you try anything Stewart and so help me, I will knock you into next week!" Caelan warned, his brown eyes deadly serious.
"Deal." Peter agreed, grinning broadly now. Step one of gaining leverage over Hagen was complete, now he just had to work out how he was going to get both himself and Hank away from the careful, watchful eye of the younger Hunter and out of this nightmare of a situation his former friend had left them in.
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The sound of Dean's phone ringing brought Dean out of his dark thoughts of vengeance and violence, Sam stirring slightly as Dean quickly grabbed his phone and held it between his head and shoulder, quietly soothing Sam with his free hand by squeezing the back of the kid's neck gently but firmly, noting that Sam stopped squirming at his touch and relaxed almost instantly.
"Caelan, what's the deal man?" Dean demanded, keeping his hand upon his brother's neck as he glanced out at the road ahead of them. "Everything good?"
"Yeah, everything's good Dean," Dean heard Caelan reply, his tone tired and slightly annoyed as he walked Dean through the plan step by step.
Dean nodded in between his friend's pauses, even though Caelan couldn't see Dean's acknowledgement. "That sounds good." Dean said approvingly after Caelan had relayed all of the details. "And I'll be able to stay with Sam?"
"Yeah, that's no problem Dean. That was actually easier to organise than not having the damn authorities involved!" Dean couldn't help but notice his friend's irritation spike up a level at that comment, his voice almost a low growl before Caelan let out a long sigh, calming himself as much as he could before he continued to reassure Dean.
"Don't worry Dean, everything's covered. No cops, all the discretion and privacy that you guys will need and you'll be able to be with Sam throughout everything … even surgery if it comes down to that. Trust me dude, I've got your back."
Dean felt a soft smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "I never doubted that for a second Cal!" Dean responded quickly, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb his younger brother beside him.
"How's the kid doing?" Caelan sighed and Dean had no trouble in detecting both exhaustion and guilt within his friend's voice.
"He's … " Dean paused, trying to find the right words to both reassure and not lie to his best friend of eighteen years. "He's quiet dude, but trying to hold it together."
"Damn!" Caelan cursed softly. "I was hoping we could talk some damn sense into him before he started doing this."
"Don't worry; I'm not going to let Sammy push me too far away. I vowed that it would never get to that point again and I meant it."
"Yeah I know. Just … watch him Dean and don't … wait till he's ready to talk, okay?"
"What? You don't think I know how to look after my own brother now?" Dean said, but there was no heat behind his tone or words, more to lighten the mood and stop this conversation before it drifted into dangerous chick flick territory.
Caelan laughed. "That is actually one job you definitely know how to do, man!"
Dean smiled gently at Caelan's subtle vote of confidence with Dean concerning Sam's well-being. "You know, if I'm going to get Sam through this without tearing out my own hair in frustration because of how damn stubborn and obstinate my kid brother can be at avoiding things … I … we are going to need you as well dude."
Caelan was silent a moment before Dean heard a low chuckle over the line. "Of course you'll need me Dean. And I already told you that you couldn't handle this by yourself, remember? You get too … emotional when it comes to Sammy."
"Oh please!" Dean snorted. "I don't get emotional. I'm not some damn chick, you know! It's more like … protective brotherly instincts." Dean clarified, his smile widening at his friend's reply. "Yeah, whatever you need to tell yourself so you can sleep at night!" Dean shot back. "How far away are you from finishing up there Caelan?" Dean asked, teasing gone from his voice now, silently asking Caelan if he was okay or needed back-up.
"Don't stress Dean," Caelan told Dean, his voice a tad too cheerful and confident for Dean's liking. "Caleb's about five minutes out. Just have to burn this place to the ground and then I'll be good to go. Maybe … two hours tops. Although I plan to be out of this place ASAP, because being around these two clowns is really starting to test my patience!"
"You have more patience than me." Dean chuckled fondly. "I think I would have killed them by now!"
"Oh don't worry Dean, it's not like that thought hasn't crossed my mind! Looks like Caleb's coming now man. Take care of the kid and I'll talk to you soon."
"Of course I'll take care of Sammy," Dean whispered, Caelan being the one to end the call rather abruptly. Dean glanced over at his brother, a tender, protective smile upon his rugged features. "That is my job after all; to take care of my pain in the ass little brother!"
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Caelan quickly ended the call to Dean, hoping that Dean hadn't picked up on Caelan's sudden nervousness at the sound of unfamiliar vehicles coming toward him. He'd told Dean that it was Caleb, but this definitely wasn't Caleb's Ute.
Caelan shielded his eyes in order to get a look at the strange cars as they advanced. The first thing he noticed was that there were at least two of them … maybe three … and they were dark coloured cars and too flashy for any Hunter that Caelan knew.
Wait a minute … was that a damn limo?!
Caelan's puzzled frown immediately turned to sweep Peter Stewart with an accusing stare. Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, Caelan strode toward the smirking Hunter and pushed him up against the Ferrari 360 where his "silent" partner was yelling at Caelan to release Peter or he was going to …
Hank's threat sounded upon deaf ears as Caelan struggled not to wipe that smirk from Peter's face with his fists. "What did you do?" Caelan growled, his eyes narrowed to slits, breathing hard to keep his rising frustration and anger in check. "What the fuck did you do Stewart? Who did you call?"
"Protocol Three," Peter replied smugly, lifting his arm so that Caelan could see a watch attached to his wrist. "Tracker," Peter supplied in answer to Caelan's unasked question. "What you see right there is the might of the organisation coming to rescue its fellow member. Protocol Three … we never leave a man stranded."
TBC