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.

If there is anything I have left out or you are still unsure about, please feel free to message me. You never know, I may have left it unintentionally unresolved for a reason (possibly a sequel).

Special Note: Thanks to Kas3y, and Guest 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. Thanks to everyone for their patience and continued interest.

DEMON SPAWN: THE PHONE CALL

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Two Weeks Later

Caelan Hagen was not ready to return to the land of consciousness yet. His head thumped painfully in rhythm with his heartbeat, causing a rippling effect to go through his body, a loud groan escaping him, knowing that the pain he was experiencing had nothing to do with a hunt … it was self-inflicted, a hangover like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

But that's what he had wanted … to escape and drown the raging hurt and guilt that he felt because of the gut-wrenching, heart breaking two weeks he had just endured.

The love of his life was dead. Spending the last week of her life in excruciating agony because of an experimental drug her father had given her in order for her to obey his every command without question, becoming a mindless zombie, a pawn in her father's sick and twisted game that he had played all so he could get his hands on – who he would call The Demon Spawn – Sam Winchester.

His plan had ultimately failed, thanks to a small group of Hunters who had rallied around in support of the youngest Winchester to prevent this man and the horrendous secret organisation that he worked for in getting their hands upon the youngest Winchester once more.

Caelan let out another groan, the loud ringing and vibrating of his phone piercing shrilly through his head like a jack-hammer that wanted to break through his skull.

He vaguely hoped that the person who was calling him at such an ungodly hour would get the message and leave him alone. Caelan was in no mood or fit state to talk to anyone right now … not after the part he had played in Senior Stewart's scheme to reacquire Sam Winchester.

That thought, even two weeks later, filled Caelan with remorse and regret, hating the fact that Senior Stewart's drug had affected Caelan to such a degree that he had become violent with the youngest Winchester – the boy whom he thought of as a brother – believing Sam to be responsible for his father's brutal murder eleven years earlier.

Although Sam had instantly forgiven Caelan for his violent outburst, knowing that it wasn't the real Caelan that had hurt him. Caelan was having a hard time forgiving himself. He'd thought nothing and no one could come between the bond that he shared with the Winchester siblings … but, he'd been wrong.

Caelan breathed a sigh of relief when his phone finally stopped ringing and vibrating. Now he could drift back off into the land of sleep where he didn't feel guilt, remorse or grief; where his emotions were naturally numbed and dulled without having to resort to alcohol as an escape mechanism; where …

"God damn it!" Caelan shouted, almost on the verge of sleep before his phone started to ring and vibrate once more. He immediately rolled away from his phone, throwing one of his pillows over his head in an attempt to muffle the infuriating noise his phone was making.

Was it really too much to ask that people left him the hell alone?!

Honestly, you'd think the person would have gotten it through their thick skulls that Caelan didn't want to talk to them after the first time he'd let it ring without answering. Maybe Caelan should leave a blunt, straight to the point message on his answering service, telling people to fuck off and leave him alone as he was no longer available to talk to anyone!

Caelan knew that it could be only three people who would be calling him so instantly – Caleb, Dean or Sam – and he really didn't want to talk to any of them right now.

The grief and shame he felt at how he had treated all three of his friends during that terrible time two weeks ago made Caelan almost afraid to reconnect with them.

Although he had started to mend the relationship with all three of the other Hunters, Caelan knew he still had a long way to go before he completely repaired the damage he had done. And once Elizabeth had … died … Caelan had taken off, not wanting to be near anyone, not wanting to be comforted or treated like some fragile girl that they thought would shatter and break into a million pieces, not wanting to deal with the uncomfortable silences as his friends tried to piece him back together, offering words of unity and works like; 'she's in a better place now'.

It was all crap!

All lies that we told ourselves to get through the hard times. But Caelan could see it clearly now. And it was all bullshit! None of them had any clue how he was feeling or what he was going through.

It wasn't only the death of the woman that he'd always loved that had forced Caelan to run instead of staying and accepting his brothers comfort and support, but also learning the truth about his beloved father's murder.

It was such a God damned waste!

His father had been killed because he had walked in on something and saw things he shouldn't have seen and because he had become too much of a threat to this secret organisation and had to be eliminated.

And Elizabeth … she'd only been doing Caelan a favour, helping out the Winchester siblings, only to be used by her own father, killed by an experimental drug that her father had manufactured in order to control her, all so they could get their hands on Sam Winchester and return him to this organisation in order to torture him, experiment on him … recondition him for God only knew what purpose.

Caelan's hands clenched tightly into fists, his teeth gritted together, the rage, unfairness and bitterness of it all tearing at his very soul.

It could be so easy for Caelan to pin all of this on Sam Winchester – because at the end of the day, that was why both his Dad and Elizabeth had died – to blame him, to curse him, to give into the bitterness and desire for vengeance and take it out on the youngest Winchester.

But … Caelan knew Sam, had watched him grow, had protected and loved him like a brother and … no matter how hard he tried; he couldn't blame that kid for any of this. Sam didn't have a mean bone in his body, and because Caelan knew that kid so well, he knew that Sam would blame himself for all that had happened, would blame himself for anyone having gotten hurt because of him. Hell, that damn fool kid would probably blame himself for this organisation having tortured him for all of these years!

People thought that Dean Winchester was the king of guilt and blaming himself for things that were out of his control, but his younger brother was just as good at doing that … if not better.

And Caelan also knew that his Dad – Connor Hagen – had loved John Winchester like a brother, had loved Dean and Sam like the nephews he'd never had … he wouldn't want Caelan to blame Sammy for his Dad's death because Caelan knew that his Dad would never put that blame on a ten-year old kid's shoulders – even if Sam had been responsible for Connor's death – because Connor would have understood that the real blame for his untimely death was because of this organisation and the Hunters within it who were willing to kill to keep their secrets.

If his Dad wouldn't have blamed Sam, then how could he? The blame lay with Roger Stewart and this secret organisation that the ex-Hunter had belonged to. Nirkish had taken Roger Stewart away to be questioned by the Divine Elders – whoever the hell they were – and by the way the fear had entered Senior Stewart's eyes at that knowledge, that wasn't exactly a good thing.

Roger Stewart, the person who was linked directly to both his Dad's and Elizabeth's deaths, was effectively taken care of and Caelan knew that planning ways to get even with that son of a bitch would be a wasted effort, but Caelan couldn't help the thirst for vengeance that coursed through his veins. Someone had to pay for what had happened to Elizabeth, Caelan needed to avenge the love of his life if he was to have any chance of moving forward from this, and if Caelan couldn't get to Roger Stewart, then he would just have to destroy this secret organisation instead.

Caelan had sent Caleb off by threatening to shoot him right after Elizabeth had died, ignoring all calls that the Winchesters had placed to try and talk him into coming back, wallowing in his grief, guilt and shame, spending endless days binging on alcohol to try and dull his emotions.

Even now, after some things had become clearer to him after his week of solitude, Caelan still wasn't quite ready to join, to reconnect with his brothers and formulate a plan on how they could take this organisation down, because if this organisation could corrupt and get to one of the most elite and legendary families of the hunting community, then they could get to anyone, and that made them too dangerous to ignore.

Caelan just wanted to feel nothing for a while, to pretend that his life wasn't falling to pieces. He just wanted to fucking sleep and forget everything that had happened.

Finally! Caelan's phone had stopped ringing. Hopefully now Caelan could get back to sleep. He removed the pillow from his head, his body uncurling and relaxing, the sound of his phone no longer piercing his skull. No noise, complete darkness, now all Caelan needed to do was just drift off and …

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Caelan groaned loudly as his phone started up for the third time. Obviously this person wasn't going to give up until Caelan answered his phone.

With a huff of annoyance, Caelan opened his eyes, causing his stomach to roll, the room spinning around him as he gazed with burry eyes at the alarm clock beside his phone.

2am?! What the fuck?!

Caelan groaned again, swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise, blindly grabbing his phone as he closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning.

"What?!" Caelan growled into the phone. "This better be damn important to fucking wake me up at two in the morning!"

"C – Caelan?"

Caelan's eyes popped open at the soft, scared, hesitant voice on the other end, his heart beating wildly in his chest, this phone call eerily reminiscent of the one he had received two weeks ago, which had propelled him into having one of the worst days of his life.

CH DW CH DW CH DW CH DW CH DW CH DW CH

Dean Winchester couldn't believe that his own baby brother had kicked him out of their motel room.

Him!

After everything that Dean had done for the kid for the past two weeks and this was how Sam showed his gratitude!

Dean was flabbergasted, annoyed, irritated, amused and slightly … relieved actually, if he was being completely honest with himself.

The last two weeks had not been easy on either Winchester sibling, but for Sam especially. The first few nights away from the hospital and the organisation was hard on both of them; Sam refusing to sleep because of his nightmares; Dean not being able to sleep because he feared his brother wouldn't be there when he woke up.

Once the two siblings had finally given into their exhaustion and fell into reluctant, restless slumbers, Dean was always awoken by his brother's horrendous screams, fearing that he was still trapped within that dreaded box. It would take Dean hours to calm the kid down and for Sam to believe that he was safe and not trapped in the box.

After the third night of this happening, Dean finally managed to convince Sam that it was okay if he needed to sleep with a light on. After everything the poor kid had been through, Dean was not going to tease his brother about needing a bit of light to reassure himself that he was safe.

Sam had been ashamed and horrified by the suggestion. He wasn't a damn kid anymore! He didn't need the light on like some child who was afraid of the dark!

So, they had reached a compromise. The bathroom light would stay on instead of one of the man lamps. Dean knew that the only reason Sam had refused to have a light on so adamantly was because the old man was still hovering around them and Sam didn't want to appear any more weak, a liability, in their father's eyes than he already was.

Which was utter bull crap as far as Dean was concerned, because his baby brother was not weak! And not once had Dean ever considered Sam to be a liability! But, trying to convince his brother of that was like talking sense to a bloody brick wall.

And at this stage of Sam's healing, he needed comfort, reassurance and support. Knocking some sense into Sam's skull about his askew view of himself would have to come later, once his brother stopped jumping at the slightest, unexpected noises.

If John disapproved of the bathroom light staying on, he didn't say anything. In fact, John Winchester had been damn right scary that first week after they had escaped the hospital. He hadn't once bitched at them for the stupid mistakes they had taken, badgered them about training or drilled them about the possible danger they had not only put themselves in but others as well.

Instead, John had hovered, a worried, scared look upon his features most times as he silently helped his sons to rest and recuperate from their ordeal; a soft, loving smile of pride on his lips.

And Dean was so shocked by his father's complete change in attitude that he'd almost convinced himself that his Dad must be possessed … or maybe he was having a hard time letting go of the fact that he'd had to kill a Hunter, a man he had once admired and considered a friend before learning that this man had betrayed John in the worst possible way by punishing and torturing his young son because he thought that Sammy was a Demon Spawn.

But it hadn't been long after the first week that John's soft loving looks changed into looks of disapproval, his features growing hard, shaking his head with disappointment every time that Sam latched onto Dean, clinging to him in such a way as he hadn't done since Sam had been a young child.

Dean hadn't been able to leave the room for more than a few seconds before he could hear Sam calling out to him, panic and fear within his tone, not even their Dad being able to sooth Sam's near hysteria.

No, Sam hadn't been able to fully calm down until he could see Dean again, and then the kid would burst into uncontrollable sobs, so ashamed by his behaviour, acting like a scared, frightened five-year old instead of the twenty one-year old man he was.

Dean had assured his brother that it was okay, that Sam would get over this. And Dean honestly didn't mind his brother's near obsessive clinginess, because this was a cycle that Dean was used to dealing with throughout Sam's childhood, and he knew that this clingy phase of Sam's would pass; just like Sam's aversion to darkness. It was just going to take a little time; that was all. And Dean was willing to offer his kid brother all of the patience in the world. If Sam needed Dean to be close to him in order to help Sam recover from this, then Dean would gladly supply that.

But their Dad didn't understand Sam at all.

John didn't have much patience to begin with. Not when it came to the emotional side of things. That didn't matter to John; all that mattered to John was completing the mission at hand and pushing down the emotional baggage as deep as it would go until you couldn't feel it anymore.

But Sammy … Sammy needed to talk; he needed to vent; he needed reassurance, not only verbally but physically as well; he needed to feel safe and secure, not ordered to 'man up', to bury his emotional baggage like Dean had learned to do.

The more Sam clung to Dean in desperate need, the more John's fine lines of disapproval would increase, which only caused Sam to feel more self-conscious and ashamed as he tried to overcome his clingy stage by pushing Dean away for Dad's benefit.

But Dean could see the panic building within familiar hazel eyes whenever Dean stepped out of the room to go to the bathroom or to the kitchen. And when Dean returned, Sam's panicked eyes would look up at Dean in relief, the shaking of his body subsiding, the vulnerability within his little brother's eyes melting a little because his big brother was back and Sam knew that Dean would protect him, no matter what.

After a week and a half of the nightmares, aversion to dark and the clinginess Sam exhibited, John's non-patience had finally reached its limit. He ordered Dean to go and get them breakfast – something John had been doing previously – explaining to Sam that this dependency that he had on Dean was unhealthy, unnatural and it had to stop; that being apart from each other would do the brothers a world of good.

Dean had seen the apprehensive look within Sam's eyes, but like the tough, stubborn pain the ass little brother that he was, and not wanting to disappoint John any further, Sam had offered Dean a trembling smile and a slight nod of his head, indicating to Dean that he'd be all right while Dean made the breakfast run.

Dean had hesitated, still not able to willingly leave his brother's side. It wasn't only Sam that was holding onto Dean for dear life and reassurance; Dean realized that he wasn't ready to let go of Sam yet either; the two of them being able to provide comfort to each other, giving each other the strength and reassurance that they were all right and that they could get through this together.

Dean had reluctantly left after his Dad had given him the Do-As-I-Say look, Dean still not able to refuse his Dad when he gave Dean an order.

Dean would never admit it to the old man, but he did feel better cruising along in his baby, having space to breathe and relax for the first time in what felt like forever. Still, Dean hadn't been able to shake the anxious, gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, some long ingrained big brother instinct telling him that he needed to get back to Sam and soon.

The breakfast run had taken far longer than Dean had anticipated, getting back to their motel room an hour after he had left.

But, that had obviously been an hour too long, because no sooner had Dean stepped out of his beloved Impala, coffee and breakfast for all three Winchester men in his hands, than Dean heard his baby brother's anguished screams, calling out Dean's name in a lost, terrified voice which instantly pulled at Dean's big brother instinct's, his father's frustrated angry shouts trying to overpower Sam's screams of desperation and fear.

Fuck!

DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW

Ten Minutes After Call

Sam Winchester finished writing the farewell letter to his brother before folding the paper in half and placing it in an envelope. Dean deserved a hell of a lot more explanation than a note, Sam knew, but he also knew his brother.

And there was no way that Dean would let Sam do this on his own. Not after the way Sam would freak out every other minute because of the torture he had endured two weeks ago, or the nightmares that now invaded his sleep every night, his eyes blood shot, dark circles underneath his eyes, indicating the youngest Winchester's lack of sleep.

But Sam had to do this. He had to see if Sicko was really tracking him somehow or if this was just a coincidence. And the only way Sam could really test his theory was if he isolated himself from his loved ones – so that they weren't in any danger of being hurt because of him – and waited to see if Sicko found him or not.

There was no doubt that Sam was scared. Sicko had terrorized him … taken away his dignity as a man, forcing his big brother – his hero – to listen as Sicko proceeded to break him … but even though Sam never wanted to see that man again, scared to be in the same room as him … Sam was more terrified of what Sicko could do to his brother.

The last time Sam had tangled with this organisation, Dean had been shot trying to protect him. There was no way Sam would allow anything like that to happen to his big brother again. Not if he could help it anyway.

So, Sam's only option was to leave. He had done it before when he'd left for Stanford – Sam refused to acknowledge that they had broken the deal and had found and taken him anyway – he could do it again. As much as it pained him to be away from his family – Dean especially – Sam knew that this was the only viable option left …

Well, there was suicide, but … Sam wasn't quite that desperate yet.

Leaving was the way that he protected Dean, Caelan, Dad and all of the others that he loved. This was the only way he could save his family from coming to any harm. And if Sam happened to get hurt in the process because of it … well, so be it, at least his family would be safe.

That was Sam's mistake. He never should have involved his family in what had always been his problem. He'd been warned of what would happen to his family if they ever found out about the yearly punishment sessions that he had been receiving since he was eleven-years old.

He'd been warned. But Sam had grown arrogant, cocky.

After two years of no punishments, Sam had grown careless, he had forgotten how cruel his tormentors and punishers could be; he had forgotten – or not cared – about the consequences that would befall his family if he ever let slip about the punishment sessions or if he told them what had been done to him for all of these years.

And now, look what had happened.

The love of Caelan's life had died; Dean had been shot; his Dad had been stabbed, being forced to kill a man, a Hunter, a friend, all because Sam had forgotten, gotten careless or not cared in his drugged terrified state of mind that he should never, ever tell anyone about the punishments.

None of this would have happened if Sam had just followed that one simple rule.

Sam would give anything to be able to go back in time and not make that phone call to Caelan, to save his family from being put through all that they had all because they were trying to protect Sam, but Sam couldn't travel back in time.

So, the next best thing he could do was to move on. He would take on Sicko and Marc Ley-Lamp by himself … hell; he'd take on the organisation single-handedly if he had to. Because although Sam had learned his lesson on not to involve his family, he was equally determined never to have any more punishment sessions.

They would have to kill him before they shoved him in that damn box again!

TBC

Aten: I know I promised you all one more chapter, but this chapter grew out of control and I had to extend to an extra three chapters instead of one. But fear not, all of the chapters have been written and typed up except for the last one, so all I need to do is go through them and I will get them out to you as soon as possible.

Thanks for your continued patience and support, it really means a lot to me.