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. I have no knowledge or training in medical areas. I have tried to keep everything as realistic as possible, but, as medical knowledge is not my area of expertise, just beware that there may be some mistakes in the next few chapters.
Special Note: Thanks to Cheetah Grrl and Mimmi85 for your kind words. 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. Did I say two chapters? Yeah, that's not happening, sorry. Just trying to tie up all the loose ends and boy am I struggling with that, but there is an ending in sight … just not quite sure when.
DEMON SPAWN: THE PHONE CALL
CHAPTER THRITY-FOUR
"They were set up Dean," Peter continued in a forlorn voice, and it took Dean a moment to wrap his mind around what the hell Peter was talking about, his mind filled with the need to protect his baby brother from every piece of scumbag out here who may want to hurt him.
"To take the rap for something that Marc had devised up years ago and so, in order for my father to redeem himself, he had to … bring the Demon – ah … your brother to the organisation's leaders immediately."
Peter paused to regather his thoughts, slightly put off by Dean's sudden glare and low growl of warning when Peter had almost slipped up by referring to Sam Winchester as the Demon Spawn.
"Father had already put his plans into effect before I arrived at the hospital, managing to coerce Liz's obedience through the organisation's warped techniques of … brainwashing … or as they like to call it reconditioning."
Ah … it made sense now why Dean had recognized Peter's rage from earlier. It was the type of rage that you felt when someone had hurt your sibling almost beyond repair.
"My father had everything set in place, but then we received orders to stand down and release … Sam Winchester immediately. Father couldn't accept that, wouldn't believe those orders were true and so he's proceeded to continue with this suicidal mission, hoping to restore his honour within the organisation once more.
I can put up with a lot of things that my father has done – hell, I've even agreed with some of the decisions that he's made – but this … drugging and mind-raping my sister … that's where I draw the line and how I know that he as to be stopped.
Unfortunately, I can't beat him by myself, which is why I was hoping to team up with you guys and bring the bastard down before he gets all of us killed with his obsessive, manic, suicidal mission of restoring his God damned image both in the hunting community and the organisation.
What do you say Dean? You want a chance to get your brother back and save your precious buddy, Hagen? Then, the only hope we have of beating my father is for us to unite forces for the time being. After we get this mess sorted and everyone gets what they want, we can go back to hating each other. Sound fair?"
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"M-my power?" Sam stuttered, bewildered and perplexed by his father's words. "What are you talking about? I don't have powers!" Sam exclaimed, a sudden panic beginning to settle within him.
"Oh my boy, yes you do," Marc pattered Sam's check affectionately. "I'm sure you have lots of questions," Marc continued, attempting to rise into a sitting position. "And I will tell you … everything you want to know and more," he promised, falling back upon the couch in frustration when he didn't have the strength to push himself into a sitting position. "Help me!" he gasped, holding out a hand to Sam.
Sam took the hand and helped to ease his father into a sitting position.
Thanks," Marc smiled briefly at Sam before his expression turned serious once more. "But right now, I need you to give me a report on where we are with our ultimate game plan … and where the hell John Winchester is."
Sam gulped nervously as Marc's expression darkened with sudden intensity.
"So I can return the favour and slit his fucking throat!"
Sam shifted uncomfortable, not willing to go into detail about how the ultimate game plan was failing in more ways than one, considering that his Dad could change from one mood to the next in a blinding flash. Sam had been caught many times on the receiving end of his father's volatile, instantaneous temper.
Marc motioned Sam into the chair beside him as he sat forward eager to hear Sam's report.
Sam sat in the chair indicated by his father, twisting his hands together nervously, a surreal feeling overtaking him as he gazed into the now very much alive and expectant face of his father.
It hadn't been too long ago that Sam had been contemplating giving his Dad a Hunter's funeral … and now, here he was, alive … claiming that Sam had brought him back to life using powers that Sam didn't even know he had. Maybe he was going crazy …
"Son … report," Marc commanded in a slightly harsher tone.
Sam shook his head; he could worry about all of this other stuff later. For now, he was once again filled with purpose and meaning because his father was alive and could direct his actions once more.
A sense of peace and calm overcome Sam as he proceeded to give his father a less than positive report on how their ultimate game plan was progressing.
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Dean found himself looking at Caleb for confirmation of Peter Stewart's almost outrageous claims. All of this had happened – Sammy being drugged, kidnapped and tortured – because of one Hunter's desire to bring down the old-school Hunters? Dean had been shot and Sam recaptured because Stewart's Dad had a hard-on for keeping his family's rep intact?
It all seemed so … ridiculously childish, petty and stupid. Why were grown Hunters behaving like bratty little kids who couldn't get their own way?
"It's all true," Caleb confirmed. "I know it's a lot to take in all at once, but Stewart and Adams here are going against their fathers and their precious organisation in order to help us out. Not to mention possibly being ostracised from the hunting comminuty for betraying their families."
Peter seemed to pale visibly at Caleb's words, shooting a doubtful glance in Hank's direction. He hadn't thought about the consequences of their actions and what others might think of them going behind their fathers' backs.
All he'd thought about was stopping his father's out of control obsessiveness before he got all of them killed. And the fact that he was furious with his Dad for reconditioning his sister, make his choice an easy one.
But now … because of his impulsive actions, had he condemned Hank and himself to a life where they wouldn't belong anywhere? Were they going to be shunned by everyone they ever knew or loved?
Hank, almost as if he could read Peter's panicked thoughts, clasped Peter's hand within his own and squeezed firmly, his smile gentle and reassuring, even as his light green eyes sparkled with love and understanding.
In his own way, Hank was telling Peter that no matter what happened, the two of them would be okay as long as they were together.
Peter relaxed under his partner's loving reassurances and smiled back at him in acknowledgment. Of course they would be okay. And maybe … maybe this would be the best thing that could have happened to them.
Peter knew that his father would not react kindly to his son's betrayal. Peter would no doubt be banished and disowned – much like Liz had been years before – or possibly hunted down and slaughtered … Peter wouldn't put anything past his father now, not after drugging his own daughter, their father would be and could be capable of anything!
But the thought of being disowned didn't invoke as much panic in him as he thought it would, because in an odd way, both Hank and himself would be free to finally be together; out in the open without fear of tarnishing their families' names or reputations. They wouldn't have to hide in shame and humiliation anymore, and Peter found that thought liberating. Free to make their own choices, their own mistakes; not having to worry about offending anyone or upsetting their precious families reputation because of their preferred lifestyle.
For the first time in his life, Peter felt the stress and tension of years of built up family obligations leave him, an air of calmness and relief flooding through him, realising that after tonight – no matter what happened, win or lose – Peter was quite prepared to turn away from the Hunter's lifestyle altogether and walk out into the sunlight, his lover's hand wrapped around his own, free to do whatever the hell they pleased because they would no longer have any responsibilities or family duties to contend with ever again!
Not bothered or caring about the other two Hunters in the room with them, Peter leaned down and placed a tender kiss upon his lover's lips, smiling in satisfaction when Hank's lips softened, eagerly surrendering himself into Peter's embrace.
Dean gawked at the sight of Peter and Hank sharing a passionate kiss. Huh. He honestly hadn't thought that these two swung that way. Not that he really cared either way, it was actually refreshing to see that even the elite old-school Hunters had desires and passions of their own that they couldn't ignore and would no doubt be highly frowned upon within their circle of wealthy old fashioned family value and network of friends.
But as soon as their hands started to grab at each other, that's when Dean had to draw the line. A passionate kiss was one thing, but Dean didn't want to have to sit here and watch a full on make-out session between the two men!
Dean coughed loudly to get their attention, while Caleb shoved hard against Peter's shoulder, not surprised to see the angry blue eyes glaring hard at the two of them in protest.
"Now's not the time for you two to be engaged in a lips-locking competition." Dean said, his voice low and full of authority. "Tell me your plan so we can all get the hell out of here and I can go back to kicking your ass for hurting my brother!"
Dean swivelled to take in Hank standing beside Peter, looking slightly dazed after his passionate kiss. "And don't think I'm going to leave you out of the fun either Hank. I haven't forgotten that you had a hand in hurting my brother as well!" Dean smirked at the startled looks upon both Peter and Hank's faces.
"Okay Dean, let me walk you through the plan …" Caleb shot a glance at Peter and Hank before returning his attention back to Dean and explaining their slightly crazy but simple plan.
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Dream Sam took a deep breath, not sure exactly where to begin, so he began with what he did know, what he'd experienced first-hand. "I left Stewart and Adams when you initiated Protocol Four …
A nervous feeling settled in the pit of Sam's stomach at those words, recollecting when Sicko had bragged to him about how he was going to abandon his … accomplices and leave them to take the blame for what had been done to Sam.
… and immediately came to your location, as already prearranged." Dream Sam gritted his teeth together, anger flaring up within him as he reencountered what he had witnessed. "I parked in an empty park and it wasn't long before you emerged with John Winchester. I watched him get the drop on you and slit your throat –"
"I already know that part!" Marc growled, raising his eyes at Sam's scathing tone. "Do you have something to say to me boy?"
Sam swallowed hard at his father's dominant, rough tone. "N-no sir, of course not."
Marc eyed Sam carefully before he nodded, seeming appeased as he gestured for Sam to continue. "What happened after that son?"
"I followed John for hours, trying to find some way to make him pay for killing you. I almost lost him in this hick of a town, but then I caught back up to him and when the coast was clear, I ran him off the road."
"That's my boy," Marc smiled, his pale eyes gleaming with pride.
Sam swelled with his father's praise before he proceeded. "John's truck was totalled, but I wanted to make sure that asshole was dead; so I pulled him from the truck and stabbed him in the gut."
Marc's eyes twinkled with delight at that news, encouraging Sam to go on.
"Before I could completely finish the job, I heard sirens approaching and I knew that I had to get your body out of there. I knew that John would be at the hospital, so after I got you settled, I returned to the hospital only to discover that … I was too late."
"What do you mean you were too late?" Marc asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously, tight lines of disappointment and disapproval etched upon his brow.
"I – I'm sorry Dad, but John … he'd already left the hospital by the time I'd gotten there." Sam admitted quietly, watching his father's reactions closely, noticing by the tone of his voice that his Dad was starting to get irritated; which could quickly lead to anger, then rage and then –
"You let him escape?!" Marc screeched, his eyes clouding with intense rage before Sam felt a solid fist to the side of the head, which almost sent Sam tumbling out of the chair.
Tears blurred Sam's vision, at the instant pain he could feel, the side of his face throbbing, knowing that the best thing he could do when his father's moods ran hot and cold like this was to stay silent, not get in his way and to ride it out. Hopefully his recently back from the dead father wouldn't feel the need to beat him into submissiveness or unconsciousness this time.
"How the hell could you let him get away?!" Marc raged, his voice rising with each word that he spoke. "I taught you better than that boy!"
"Well, forgive me if I was a bit emotional at the time and wasn't thinking straight!" Sam found himself retorting bitterly, even when he urged himself to stay silent. "Your dead body was laid out on this couch and I had no clear orders on what I should do next! You were dead … and I didn't know what I was supposed to do. So, yeah, I was a little off my game … sue me!
But, you know that I would have eventually tracked John Winchester down and gutted him like the pig he is for what he did to you! I just needed some damn time to get used to the fact that you were dead!"
Silence filled the room at Sam's outburst as the two men silently stared at each other, each of them gauging the other, trying to determine what the next move would be.
Marc stood up, aggressively pulling Sam to his feet before he roughly pulled Sam into his arms, into a very rare and awkward hug (at least for Sam, he never enjoyed displaying his affections in public … except when it came to enjoying sexual pleasure, then he would be as cuddly and affectionate as his partner wanted).
"I'm sorry son," Marc whispered soothingly in his ear. "I know that you would have avenged me eventually. But you did even better than that. You, my son, brought me back to life. And I can't ever repay you for doing that … except … to recapture the Demon Spawn and allow you to have him by your side for as long as you want."
Sam brightened instantly at those words, excitement coursing through him at all of the fun he could have with his Demon Spawn.
"Come my son," Marc pulled away, stroking Sam's hair gently. "Let us pack our things and proceed with the plan, shall we?"
Sam smiled in agreement, eagerly dashing into the bathroom, packing up his personal items before he looked in the mirror, seeing a small trail of drying blood from his split lip.
Sam gasped, noticing a familiar looking scar down one side of his face, his pale blue eyes shining with pleasure, even as his lips twisted into a delighted smirk.
Panic and horror swept through Sam, instinctively wanting to flee this place. How the hell was it that Sam could see Sicko's reflection staring back at him?
Terror clawed at Sam's mind as he mentally pushed himself away from this image, this place, determined that when he opened his eyes, he would be him again – Sam Winchester – away from this psychotic freak who had caused him such anguish … both physically and mentally.
Wake up!
He wanted to wake the hell up now!
NOW!
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Caelan glared up at Elizabeth as she urged him into the room, feeling like a complete and total idiot for ever having trusted Elizabeth Stewart Cox.
He didn't care if his own life was in danger, but the fact that because of his ignorance, he had unintentionally brought unforseen danger and harm down upon his brothers, made this an especially hard and bitter pill to swallow.
"Why are you doing this Lizzie?" Caelan asked, desperately trying to reason with the woman in front of him, because none of her actions tonight was making any damned sense to Caelan at all!
Why would this woman stand here, vowing allegiance to her father? The very man who had given Elizabeth an ultimatum ten years ago – to give up her relationship with Caelan, dedicating her life to the family and the Hunter's lifestyle, or continue to be stubborn, refusing her father's influence and advice at the expense of losing not only her prestige and wealth but also the very man that she claimed to love. Basically, her old man had threatened to have Caelan killed if she continued a relationship with him – who had disowned her for leaving the Hunter's lifestyle and her family, and now Elizabeth was standing here defending him?!
This was not the same woman who had stood up to her father, refusing both options of his ultimatum and deciding to choose her own path, free of her father's vast influence and controlling ways.
Caelan had been deeply hurt by Elizabeth's actions all those years ago, because he had been willing to follow her to the ends of the Earth and all the way into Hell if need be, just to be near her; because he had loved her that much.
It was only recently – three years ago in fact, the first time Caelan and Elizabeth had seen each other since she had abandoned the life and him seven years ago; after Caelan had been seriously injured in a hunt, another Hunter bringing him to Elizabeth's hospital, that the both of them were able to let go of their deep bitterness and regret and work toward rebuilding their fractured relationship to the point where they could at least talk civilly to each other without rude or snide comments – that Caelan had finally come to understand why Elizabeth had left him behind while she pursued her new life; her new objective in becoming a doctor; and even taking another, new man into her bed.
She had explained to Caelan that she had to leave Caelan behind, not only to protect him from her father's never ending wrath, but also because he was a constant reminder of the life that she could no longer have.
Caelan had represented more than just being her lover. He was everything that she was deliberately running away from, trying to avoid in order to remake herself and start her life fresh.
Even after learning about Elizabeth's reasons as to why she had left him, it still hurt like hell to think of her walking out on him all those years ago. And every time Caelan saw her again, it caused Caelan's heart and soul to crave for the one woman he knew he could never have and had so easily let her slip through his fingers. The wound that she had left within his heart, once again festered and burst wide open, a gaping hole … an ache … a longing … just by the simple act of seeing her again.
"This isn't you Lizzie," Caelan insisted, refusing to be ushered into the room and into a trap, hoping that he could somehow convince Elizabeth to change her mind about continuing to participate in this course of action, by talking some damn sense into her.
"Why are you going along with your father's plans? He disowned you Lizzie, with no remorse or guilt, after you decided to leave the life. I don't understand this Lizzie … I don't understand why you would choose him over me after he forced you out of his life … my life.
After everything we've been through … please Lizzie, I just want to understand why you are betraying me … betraying the Winchesters who have nothing to do with this … with us. They've done nothing to hurt you or your family."
An array of emotions flickered within the blue eyes that Caelan could have spent an eternity looking into; anguish, doubt and confusion making brief cameos upon her delicate features.
Caelan held his breath, cautiously optimistic that he may have been able to change her mind after all. If she was exhibiting emotions such as doubt, then surely she knew that what she was doing was wrong.
As suddenly as those emotions had appeared, they disappeared, Elizabeth's expression turning cold, hard and impassive, effectively closing herself off from Caelan and his words.
With a sinking heart, Caelan knew that he had lost the battle to persuade her with reason, calm and logical alone. He was obviously going to have to resort to other … more drastic measures in order to get her to see the errors of her ways.
TBC