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 Mimmi85 for your kind review. 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-FOUR
"Dean … son, it's me,"
"Bobby?!" Dean said both relieved and stunned to hear the older Hunter's voice who was more like an uncle to Dean. "What the hell are you –"
"It's a long story boy," Bobby chuckled. "Listen Dean, your Daddy's going to be all right. We got to him in time. He's in surgery at the moment, getting all stitched up."
"Bobby, was Dad stabbed?" Dean asked, shivering slightly at both Sam's words as he retold what had transpired within his dream of how he had stabbed their Dad, as well as the doctor's voice of a possible stab wound a few minutes ago.
"Yeah, looks like," Bobby sighed loudly. "We don't know who it was or why they did it … but I'm sure John will have answers for us once he's in recovery and off the morphine!"
Dean felt chilled to the bone at Bobby's words. His Dad had been stabbed … which meant Sam was right … which also meant that Sam's dream had come true … had Sam somehow given Dean the slip and …
Dean shook his head. No, that was impossible. Even if Sam could teleport – which he couldn't – it would have taken far longer for Sam to have stabbed Dad and then come back here all without Dean not knowing … Yeah, somehow Dean didn't think that was possible!
Dean pushed that thought to the back of his mind – knowing that he would never reveal to Sam that Dad had been stabbed! The last thing he needed was for Sam to feel guilty about something that wasn't even his damn fault! – as he focused once more upon the older Hunter's voice. "I'll get Sam and we'll be there as soon as we can," Dean assured his surrogate uncle.
"No Dean, it's okay," Bobby told Dean, his gruff voice softening a little. "Your Daddy told me that Sam had to go to the hospital. You need to stay there with the kid. I'll stay here with your Daddy."
"You sure Bobby?" Dean asked, suddenly feeling relieved at Bobby's words.
"John's in good hands Dean. And I'll even promise not to shoot him with rock salt this time, okay?" Bobby joked, but Dean could tell by Bobby's tone that he was also being serious. Bobby and his Dad may have issues, but Dean felt comfortable with leaving John in Bobby's capable hands until both he and Sam could get there.
"Thanks Bobby," Dean's bottom lip trembled, putting as much gratitude and feeling as he could behind those two words, hoping that Bobby would understand everything Dean was trying to tell him.
"Ya idjit," Bobby said fondly and Dean knew that Bobby had received Dean's message loud and clear. "How are you boys holding up?"
"We're …okay Bobby," Dean said, deliberately evading the truth.
"Right!" Bobby scoffed, immediately calling Dean out on his bluff. "Listen Dean, you just take care of your brother, understand? And once Sam is fit to travel, you boys – all three of you – come meet up with us here or some place that we have all agreed on." Bobby paused. "Dean … what little your Daddy told me … you boys need to watch your backs, understand?"
"Yes Uncle Bobby," Dean replied automatically. "I know. And we are being careful."
"Good." Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. "I will keep you updated on your Daddy's progress. I expect the same report from you about Sam, got it?"
"Of course," Dean agreed, his concentration wavering once more when he heard his little brother screaming his name.
Shit! Fuck!
"Sorry Bobby, gotta go. I'll talk to you soon." Dean ended the call with Bobby and quickly entered his little brother's room, hoping to calm him down before he reached full-blown freak out mode!
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Once Caelan had five minutes to think about things, he came to the conclusion that he may have jumped the gun and he might not have to resort to such drastic measures as getting that person involved.
Looking over at Stewart and Adams, he realised that he may be able to play this hand another way before he had to call in the big guns for assistance … plus, he really didn't want John to have to kill him! That would be kind of … awkward.
But that would mean asking Stewart for another "favour". And after the last fiasco … Caelan was reluctant to ask, knowing that this time round if he asked Stewart for a "favour", then Caelan would "owe" him one in return.
As much as that sickened Caelan to have to help this fuck-head out later on down the track – especially after what this mongrel had done to Sammy – Caelan knew that he didn't have any other options left.
He just hoped that Stewart hadn't been all talk about how important he and his father were to this organisation. Of course, that would all depend on whether his father was still alive … Caelan hadn't forgotten Adams' words earlier about how this organisation was apparently now gunning for them.
Still, it couldn't make matters any worse if Caelan allowed Stewart to call his old man. Hopefully the old fart was still alive and could use his influence to call off these persistent fuckers who were now out to silence them all because they had rescued Sammy from these sadistic fucks.
Caelan's gut was telling him that Stewart's father had been with the vehicles – or somewhere close, within their general proximity – that had approached the abandoned warehouse after Stewart had initiated Protocol Three; because what use would this … all powerful, all knowing … organisation have for a damn limo? Caelan suspected that the limo had been for Stewart and Adams' benefit, letting them know that help was on the way.
Of course, if that was the case, why had Adams panicked and demanded to go with Caelan? Maybe he hadn't seen it … or maybe … maybe Adams knew that they would get into trouble for being associated with such atrocious acts as drugging, kidnapping and torturing a fellow Hunter's kid; even if that kid had left the hunting life for normal and was no longer considered a Hunter. Maybe it wasn't only the organisation's wrath that Adams was afraid of.
Regardless, Caelan couldn't concern himself with that. His main objective was the safety and well-being of his brothers – Dean and Sam – and to protect them from any attacks from anyone, no matter who the fuck they were and what the fuck they wanted.
Then he had to make sure that these sons of bitches would stop tailing them in order to try and "silence" them from discussing the organisations so-called secrets – not that they knew any secrets to tell … apart from some of their members liking to torture people – and finally, he had to burn down the warehouse, getting rid of any evidence that they might have unknowingly left behind.
"Give me five minutes Caleb and then we'll be good to go, okay?" Caelan told his friend a knowing looking passing between the two of them before Caleb nodded, his light brown eyes sharp and deadly focused.
Caelan couldn't help but grin, knowing that his friend had his back no matter what may happen.
With a determination Caelan honestly didn't feel, he strode over to Stewart and Adams who were huddled against a tree trunk, Adams' arm draped around Stewart's shoulders, Peter's head resting upon Hank's shoulder, both of them looking like lost, vulnerable children caught up in a game that they suddenly realised was way above their heads.
Caelan stood in front of them, glaring down at them almost intimidatingly as he cleared his throat to get their attention. "Okay guys, here's the deal," Caelan began as he threw both of their phones at them, almost laughing at the identical shocked expressions upon their faces.
"Caleb and I are about to run back into the fire. This is as far as I can take you." He paused and looked at Adams knowingly. "After this, you guys are on your own … unless, of course, we can reach some kind of understanding."
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Sam's eyes flew open, gasping, gagging as the last residue of that strangely vivid dream left him as he blinked around the unfamiliar surroundings, not sure if he was still dreaming or if he was awake or maybe he was still in that God forsaken box … hallucinating …
"Dean!" Sam cried out, his voice weak and hoarse, even to his own ears as he struggled to move. He had to find Dean. Once Sam located Dean, he knew that Dean would make it all better; he knew that his brother would save him.
"De'n!" Sam called out again, desperately trying to untangle himself, confused and disorientated, panic making his voice rise sharply. "Dee … where are you?!" Sam was practically sobbing now. All he wanted was his big brother! Oh God, he had to get out of here!
Sam couldn't remember what had woken him, he couldn't remember why he was so freaked out, why his heart was pounding so fast in fear that it felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest; he couldn't understand why he had this overwhelming urge to find his brother before it was too late! He didn't know why he was acting like a needy, emotionally stunted child having an anxiety separation attack from his big brother. Sam had been by himself for two years now, so why did he have this sudden need … this overwhelming desire to see Dean, to know exactly where his big brother was?
"Dee!" Sam screamed at the top of his lungs before he could stop himself or reign in his panic. "Help me!"
The door to Sam's room opened and Dean stepped through the door, quickly reaching his distraught younger brother in three quick strides.
"Sammy, it's me. Calm down buddy, I'm here now, okay?" Dean placed a cautious hand upon his brother's shoulder, squeezing gently when Sam tried to dislodge Dean's hand, Sam's breathing beginning to pick up in tempo, gasping, struggling for breath now.
Shit!
Panic attack!
Without any conscious though, Dean placed his hands upon the sides of his brother's head and turned his head slightly so that Sam could look into his eyes. "Sammy, look at me," Dean commanded softly. "Little brother, I need you to calm down and look at me right now. Do you understand? Sammy, are you hearing me?"
Sam's breath caught in his throat and for one heart stopping minute, Dean wasn't sure if his brother would continue to breathe, but then Sam blinked, his large hazel eyes focusing upon Dean before he smiled brightly and the air left his lungs in a rush.
"Dean," he gasped, smiling happily before he lunged forward and embraced his brother tightly. "I knew you wouldn't leave me here by myself." Sam murmured, the panic and fear beginning to disappear now that he was held securely within his older brother's arms.
Dean only barely managed to hold in a grunt of surprise as Sam flung himself into Dean's arms, snuggling into his chest like he would have done when he was a child and had just awoken from a particularly bad nightmare.
"It's okay Sammy," Dean reassured his slightly trembling younger brother. "You know I'd never leave you, right?"
"Right," Sam agreed, his eyes starting to droop in exhaustion once more. "Where were you anyway?" Sam asked over a yawn. "You said you wouldn't leave me here alone!" he pouted, sounding like a spoilt, stubborn little brat; but Dean knew that he only sounded and acted like this when he was scared.
"Sorry Sammy," Dean sighed apologetically. "I had to take a call real quick."
Sam frowned, feeling more like himself now as he pulled away from Dean and eyed him carefully, catching something within his brother's tone that he didn't like. "Is everything okay Dean?"
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"But …" Hank Adams spluttered, his eyes widening with fear. "You promised to get us away from them!" he said, his body beginning to tense, anger starting to cloud his features now.
"I didn't promise you anything!" Caelan said, his voice dropping lower to his dangerous level. "You guys are the ones that got us into this bloody mess! And I honestly don't fucking care what happens to you if this … organisation catches up to you!"
"We had a deal." Adams reminded Caelan quietly. "You help us escape and I tell you everything that I know about the organisation. Don't you want to know what their plans are for Sam? Don't you want to know what their plan of attack is?"
Caelan gave Adams a cold, calculating stare, probing the man's light green eyes, seeing beyond the bravado front that he was putting on in order to try and intimidate and blackmail Caelan into helping him. All Caelan saw underneath all of Hank's posturing was a scared, uncertain little boy who was bluffing in order to escape the punishment that he had coming.
Caelan relaxed, certain that he had the upper hand now, his half-smile deadly, now ready to call this man's bluff and to play his own hand. "Well Adams, it seems to me as if we've reached a stalemate, doesn't it?"
Caelan moved forward and crouched down in front of the two Hunters, his posture relaxed, undaunted, but his hands within easy reach and quick access to either his gun or his knife if he had to get to either of them in a hurry.
"Do you know what really pisses me off Adams? The one thing I despise with a passion? No? Let me enlighten you. I don't care if you try to blackmail, intimidate or threaten me, that's fine; that's part of the Hunter's game, right? But when you blackmail, intimidate and threaten my brothers … that's when I have a big problem. That's when I get really pissed; and that's when I become dangerous … unpredictable even. John Winchester did have a hand in training me after all. And we all know what happens when someone is stupid enough to mess with or threaten his family, right?"
Hank Adams gulped in the face of Caelan's wrathful, dark promise of violence, automatically tightening his hold about Peter Stewart in both fear and fierce protectiveness, suddenly realising for the first time that he had no one to back him up.
This Hunter wasn't scared of his father's prestige or wealth; this Hunter wasn't backing down and showing them the respect that their names alone demanded; this Hunter was treating them like equals, calling them out on their bluffs and lies and basically warning them that there would be consequences if they continued to play this game. This Hunter had no problem in letting his fists speak for him, not in the least frightened by them, and that made Hank shiver with dread. He couldn't use his influence to bully Caelan Hagen into doing what he wanted. He didn't already command Hagen's respect just because of who he was.
No.
If Hank wanted help from this Hunter … he'd have to ask for it … plead and beg for it. Caelan Hagen was through playing their bullshit games!
Hank sighed loudly, running his free hand through his ginger/blonde hair and Caelan couldn't help the smirk of satisfaction as he noticed the trembling within the old school Hunter's hand.
"Okay, okay … Caelan … you're right. I … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have … used Sam as a bargaining chip or tried to use him to blackmail you, as if he is some kind of pawn in a game of chess. That was … wrong of me. But I was … I was desperate."
Hank closed his eyes and reopened them a few seconds later, his eyes suddenly clear, open and honest. "I was lying before. I don't know what the organisation has in stall for either Sam or what their plans are in the long run. My Dad and me … we're not that high up on the organisation's rungs. I'm sure that they only put up with us because of Peter and his Dad's influence and generous donations … plus the fact that they insisted that we were a part of this organisation."
Hank paused as he lowered his eyes, bitting upon his bottom lip nervously, shooting a worried glance toward Peter, guilt evident upon his features. "I'm sorry Pete," he said, his voice low and remorseful as he looked back into Caelan's eyes knowingly. "You saw it too, didn't you?" he asked Caelan.
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Dean appraised his younger brother, instinctively wanting to shield and protect him from the truth, but Dean could tell by the look within Sam's hazel eyes that Sam wasn't going to let him get away with deflection this time. Dean sighed loudly, deciding to be honest with Sam – to a certain degree – because this news … it involved him too.
"Bobby called," Dean revealed quietly. "Dad's … he's in hospital. He's okay." Dean quickly reassured his brother when he saw Sam open his mouth to protest. "Bobby seems to think that it was some kind of car accident. But by the time the ambulance and police got there, only Dad was at the scene. Don't worry Sammy, Dad's gonna be all right. He's the toughest son of a bitch that I know!" Dean grinned over at Sam, hoping to set the poor kid at ease, Sam's suddenly pale and sickly expression not going unnoticed by Dean.
Sam swallowed hard, the news of their Dad being hurt so badly that he was in hospital, instantly snapped Sam out of his mini freak out and back into full reality once more. "We should go," Sam told Dean, his jaw set in determination as he quickly swung his legs to the side of his bed, starting to pull out all of the lines that were attached to his body that both monitored and provided Sam's body with nutrients and pain medication as he required.
"Sam, stop!" Dean placed his hand on top of Sam's, preventing his brother from ripping out the lines in his arm. "Dad's fine, Bobby's with him. The best thing we can do right now is to spend the night here, let you recover your strength and then … only if the Doc agrees, will I even consider signing you out of here. Do you understand me?"
Sam frowned, shaking his head stubbornly. "But Dean, Dad's in the hospital. We should be there!"
"You're in the hospital too, dude!" Dean snorted chuckling dryly. "Dad's in good hands Sam. And we will be there once I'm sure that you're not going to fall apart on me the minute you get out of this hospital.
Sam's frown deepened slightly, suddenly feeling hurt by Dean's words. What the hell did that mean? Did Dean not trust him anymore? Did Dean really think that Sam was going to freak out in public? Sam could hold it together; he could be professional and do his damn job … but if Dean didn't trust him then …
Sam closed his eyes, his expression remaining neutral as he tried to force out the words that felt like acid in his mouth. But this was an unusual situation. Sam would be fine now that he had been treated. All of his bones were back where they belonged; left wrist in a cast, left arm in a sling to support his previously dislocated shoulder; right knee was bandaged, badly sprained and not broken or dislocated like Sam had feared; the deeper wounds, cuts, whip marks were cleaned and covered; his broken nose realigned and held in place by medical tape. So, their main priority should be getting to their Dad.
And since Sam was stuck in the hospital, that meant it was up to Dean to get their Dad. Sam would be all right by himself – at least until he could sign himself out – and then he would be able to join Dean at a later stage.
"You should get to Dad Dean," Sam said, reopening his eyes. "I'll be fine here by myself." Sam forced a smile onto his lips, assuring Dean that he would be more than capable of looking after himself without having Dean to watch his every move.
"I'd feel much better if one of us was with Dad right now." Sam said, trying not to reveal how terrified he was at the thought of his brother leaving him right now. Sam had to man up and fight through his own fears. Their Dad needed them and Sam was determined that he wouldn't let their Dad down!
TBC
