|Lights Will Guide You Home
Author: moviegeek03 PM
With Lisa and Ben away, and a giant blizzard, Dean can't keep his mind off of Sam being in hell...until an unexpected visitor lands on his ice covered porch in dire straights. Season 6 AU. Hurt!Sam, Caring!Dean, Evil!Samuel...NOW COMPLETERated: Fiction K+ - English - Hurt/Comfort/Family - Sam W. & Dean W. - Chapters: 4 - Words: 8,040 - Reviews: 27 - Favs: 30 - Follows: 26 - Updated: 02-02-11 - Published: 01-30-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6701450
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: This was written for the OhSam fic challenge on Livejournal. The prompt was from Embroiderama who wanted a season 6 AU where Sam is hurt hunting with the Campbells and shows up on Dean's doorstep. This is what I came up with….Enjoy! I could really use some lovely comments :D
The snow continued to cascade down, and Christmas lights shined through the pristine white mounds around the house, even though the holidays were officially over. All in all, the entire scene that lay outside the frost covered windows was picturesque. Yet the house's sole occupant only stared blankly out the window, barely taking much notice of the beauty around him.
Because when your only brother was being ripped apart in hell and your girlfriend takes your surrogate son to go visit her mother half way across the country….things like a beautiful snowfall really don't register. Which was why Dean was currently sitting alone at their home in Cicero. Of course Lisa had invited him to travel to her mother's the day after Christmas. But Mrs. Braeden happened to live in a little town in upstate New York. Lisa had opted to fly instead of taking all the time to driver there, and, well, Dean just didn't do flying. Therefore Dean had chosen to stay behind and allow Lisa and Ben to enjoy their time with her mother. If nothing else, the former hunter figured he would just spend the few days they were gone working a few odd jobs around town with the construction crew. After all, Lisa and Ben only planned on staying out of town for a little over a week…Dean could easily handle spending a week alone…
However, the blizzard of the decade decided to completely wreck all his plans and make that so called easy week a living hell. The snow had started falling gently the day after Dean drove Lisa and Ben to the airport; it continued to escalade into what was now a couple feet of snowdrifts throughout the town. New York wasn't much better; all flights had been cancelled, forcing Lisa and Ben to stay at her mother's longer than originally planned.
So this left Dean home alone staring blankly out the frost covered window while brutal images of his brother in hell plagued his thoughts. It was like a movie projector was running in his brain 24/7. Sometimes it was images from his own time spent in hell. But most of the time his damn imagination was on overload thanks to being alone and cooped up in the house far too long.
The coffee maker chimed from the kitchen, finally dragging Dean's mind away from all the fire and brimstone. He pushed himself off the couch and headed towards the counter to pour some coffee. The steam roared our from the pot, bringing about new images of smoke and fire and hell….Does anything not remind me of hell these days?
Dean had been getting better. He knew there would never come a day when he would completely recover from seeing Sam jump straight into the cage. But he had at least recovered enough to not spend all his time with a bottle of Jack and his memories from his own trip down below. That had been before the holidays had hit, sending Lisa and Ben away from him to New York the day after Christmas and a freaking blizzard to him the day after that.
He poured the coffee into a mug and moved back towards the living room to plop down onto the soft couch. The glow of the Christmas lights bathed a comfortable light across the room. A sad smile graced Dean's face as he realized this was one of the first Christmases he had experienced with all these decorations and traditions since his mom died. Sam would've liked this…
Dean was brought out of his thoughts once again, but this time with a loud crashing sound at the front door. "What the hell…"
The sound definitely wasn't the sound of someone simply knocking by any means. It almost seemed like someone or something was trying to knock down the heavy wooden door. Dean silently slipped off of the couch and headed towards the coat rack near the door. His hand glided against his smooth leather jacket, sliding into the inside pocket. He reached for the Colt hidden there before swiftly moving to the front door. He stole a quick glance out the curtained window. The snow continued to fall in thick flakes.
Who the hell would be out in this freaking weather? Come on….
Dean steeled himself for whatever could lie on the other side. His left hand rose to the doorknob while his right raised the gun. He flung open the heavy door and aimed the weapon…only there wasn't anything to aim at.
Dean's gaze and aim faltered. "What in the hell is going on?"
A soft moan replied to Dean's loud outburst of frustration. Taken aback, Dean quickly pulled the gun back up and he glanced around. He almost took a step out onto the porch when the moaning returned. This time Dean noticed a figure sprawled across the snow covered porch steps.
Keeping the gun pointed towards the lump, Dean reached inside to turn on the front porch light. The soft glow of the bulb casted an eerie light across the image in front of the hunter. A sleek, black, newer looking car was parked haphazardly near the mailbox…or at least where the mailbox used to be. It appeared as if the car had plowed straight into it. Granted with the ice and snow piled everywhere, Dean was amazed the car hadn't ended up plowing straight into the house.
More moans came from the thing on the porch, drawing Dean's attention back to it. Blood marred the pristine snow near the figure. No footprints could be seen on the sidewalk; the new fallen snow must have already covered them up. Or this creature may not have left any…
Dean sighed to himself. On one hand it seemed obvious that the thing in front of him was very injured and in need of his help. But on the other, Dean knew the things that go bump in the night could easily try and trick a hunter into thinking just that. Knowing there wasn't any way around it, Dean reached down and rolled the thing over so he could get a better look.
The thing moved onto its back, and Dean's hands flew away from the body as if they had been burned.