Don't know, don't own so please don't sue! Sam is about to experience his first hunt and things don't exactly go as planned… Ages were chosen after hearing Dean talk to Gordon during bloodlust.
Chapter One: The First Hunt
July 3rd 1999
Dean frowned looking at his father as he pulled the cleaning brush out of the barrel of his .45 "I just don't think he's ready…. He's only seventeen."
John Winchester looked over at his eldest and sighed rubbing his temples, "Dean, you were sixteen when I took you on your first hunt."
"Yeah, but this isn't me we are talking about this is Sammy."
"Sam has grown up the same way you have Dean, don't give me that, you know as well as I do that he is more than capable of handling himself out there."
Dean exhaled loudly, "Whatever." He quipped going back to cleaning his gun, at 21 he had seen more than men three times his age, he had been hunting along side his father for more than five years… and he was damn good at it, but he knew that he was made for this… Hunting was his calling…. Not Sam's.
Sam was two months past his seventeenth birthday, he should be hanging out with his friends, going to arcades, oogling over girls and planning dates… But no instead he was about to partake on a journey through the woods at one in the morning to hunt down and kill a Wendigo in the middle of nowhere-ville Minnesota. He was about to come face to face with something… with a life that was going to change him forever. Rob him of his innocence and prove to him that his fear of the unknown, fear of the unseen is more than justified.
It wasn't like he didn't KNOW about the things his father and his brother hunted, he heard stories all the time about the beasts they defeated and the spirits they exercised. He had seen the battle scars and spent plenty of nights in the emergency room while his father or his brother got stitched up. But stories were harmless… And it was never him on the stitching table, he was safe…
That was all going to change tonight.
Both men looked up in unison as they heard footsteps approaching from the bathroom. "Hey." Dean tried as hard as he could to swallow the fear and the doubt inside him, he tried to keep his voice cool and calm.
"What… what uh time are we heading out there?" The youngest of the Winchesters voice sounded as unsure and fearful as his brother felt.
"We've still got about an hour." John's tone was indifferent, as though he were talking about nothing more than a ballgame or a grocery list. "Is your homework done?"
Sam nodded, "I don't know why your even making me do it… You're pulling me out tomorrow anyway."
"Yeah well.. It might be a week or two until we get you reenrolled so you might as well get an education while you can."
"Yeah squirt." Dean smiled cockily in his brothers direction, "School work is very important."
"Who are you calling squirt! I'm damn near taller than you!"
The boys father shook his head and chuckled a little before falling serious again, "Sammy, you remember everything your brother and I told you right?"
"fire." Sam's head bobbed up and down, "Only fire can be used to and I quote." He smugly glanced to his brother "Torch the sucker and send the bastard to hell."
John's eyes widened a little and he looked to his oldest, "That's how you put it to him?"
Dean swallowed loudly, "Yeah so…."
"I just wish you would use a little more… tact."
"Well…He's not exactly a child anymore pops" Dean rose to his feet and stretched popping his knuckles. "Just remember Sammy Dad and I will be there too… We're not going to let anything happen to you."
Sam rolled his eyes and frowned, "First of all it's not Sammy… It's Sam now man, and second of all it's like you just said… I'm not a kid anymore Dean, I can handle this…" He purposely forced himself to sound more than confident causing both other men present in the room to wonder who exactly he was trying to convince.
"Just don't get to cocky out there alright… It's better to stay careful and stay alive then show off and end up Wendigo meat."
John rose a knowing brow in his Dean's direction, "I'll say.. Trust him he's speaking from experience"
"You were Wendigo meat?"
"NO!" Dean immediately jumped on the defensive before lowering his voice, "I was Shape-shifter food…There's a difference"
"I never knew about that!"
"You were only 12... I think we told you I took a spill off of the hood of the impala."
"Didn't I question what the hell you were doing on the hood of the impala?"
"Surprisingly." John shook his head, "No."
It was unusually cold for July as the three men made their way soundlessly through the tall trees of the Minnesota woods, Sam tucked protectively between his brother and father. He wondered if it was the night air or the sinking fear that kept causing chills to run up and down his spine like thousands of tiny men. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be doing this… But, he didn't have a choice in the matter. Winchesters were hunters and hunters well…. Had to hunt, this was his life, a life he loathed.
Spotting the eerie and dark cave only a few feet up ahead John's feet stopped moving his son's following suit and looking at him for further instruction. "Alright Sam, just remember, we're here with you backing you up… but if we get separated… flames are the only way to kill this thing… and they're fast… faster than most animals so you have to be quick… You can't freeze up no matter what happens…"
Sam blinked a few times trying to digest the realization of what was about to happen, before giving a nod of acknowledgement finding slight comfort in his brother's hand as he felt it touch his lower back.
"I won't leave you I promise… I've been through this hundreds of times you're going to be fine."
The smell was nauseating… Stomach turning as the three of them headed into the cave, it was unlike anything Sam had ever smelled in his life…
Rotten and vomit inducing, like burnt flesh and rotted meat, it was almost enough to send him tumbling backwards. "Gross." He mumbled resisting the urge to gag.
"Welcome to the fabulous life of hunting." Dean whispered back into his ear, "Just try not to breathe through your nose it won't bother you as much."
Sam was about to retort when his train of thought was quickly derailed by the sound of approaching feet, quick and quiet like over sized mice something was sneaking up on them.
"Show time." He heard his brother declare softly before nodding to his father who was already in a defensive stance torch in one hand lighter in the other.
And that's when it happened, that was when Sam heard the soft whimpers in the distance, helpless pain filled cries…. "Dean…" He drew his lip into his mouth.
"We'll get to them Sammy,… They're alright…"
"You boys do that now, I can handle this, it sounds like there's only one… Just remember swiftly and silently… Hopefully there aren't to many back there."
"You heard him, lets go play hero."
Sam followed closely behind his brother making sure to keep in step with him the entire way toward the back of the cave, if Dean moved even an inch right Sam moved that same inch on his heels so closely he almost stepped on them a few times.
Four… Four helpless, whimpering, malnourished forms hung limp and almost lifeless from the caves ceiling. Even in the darkness Sam could see the terror and the tears in their eyes and it made his blood run instantly cold.
"We have to cut them down." Dean's voice cut through his terror filled thoughts as he was already working on the first, she couldn't have been more than twenty, an array of cuts bruises and blood decorating her body and ripped clothing.
Sam moved quickly his hands shaking as he cut down the guy on the far end who seemed to be moderately coherent, "Don't you worry we're going to get you outta here…" He whispered bracing the guy around the waist and lowering him down to his feet.
The man nodded, "We have to hurry before it comes back… I've seen what it can do I watched it eat…It's…" His voice was frantic.
"Shhhh…. You're going to be alright…."
It was only a few more seconds before the remaining two victims were down as well Dean being forced to carry one almost fireman style he looked to his brother for help, "You're going to have to help her…" He used his head to point to the 20 year old from before, "Her ankles pretty busted up she can't walk on her own and I can't carry them both…."
"Alright…." Sam felt that chill of fear from before growing into an aching cold as he gripped the young woman around her waist his entire body trembling, "Lean on me…" He instructed hoping his voice sounded more reassuring to her than it did to him.
He could see Dean's eyes glancing back at him simultaneously trying in vein to give him some sort of comfort as they headed toward the exit…. comfort that never came as the next few minutes seemed to pass like seconds…
A horrid scream rang through the silence surrounding them, as Sam felt his body fly through the air before coming in contact with something hard and sharp his eyes filling with terror, the young woman who had been braced against his side was gone….
"Sam Look out." His brothers warning was strong and forceful bouncing off the cave walls and echoing.
It wasn't human.
It was unlike anything Sam had ever seen before….
Evil pure evil, the sight alone enough to freeze the frightened young man as he drew in a breath and held it, he wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't .
Wanted to turn away. But he didn't.
He watched. Helplessly.
The poor innocent girl. whose name he didn't even ask was ripped into like a sack of potatoes. He blood bathing the monster responsible.
Then flames, fire so bright it was almost as though it were alive bathed the cave walls.
And then nothing.
Climbing to his feet the still shaken young man wearily edged closer to the now still figure on the ground and leaned down over her, joined seconds later by his brother at his side.
"Are you alright?" He heard him whisper.
Sam didn't answer.
There was blood.
So much blood.
"We…We have to help her…." His voice shook uncontrollably once he finally found it again.
"She's gone man." Dean sighed softly already able to tell by the impossible angle at which the woman's head lay "He broke her neck."
"No…No…No…" Sam mumbled crouching down and scooping her up into his arms a more than difficult task.
She was limp as a rag doll the blood still pouring from her making his hold on her body slippery.
And her eyes… those eyes, unblinking and vacant, tore into him like daggers… heart piercing soul crushing daggers. He didn't understand… Gone.. She was gone, even though he was supposed to protect her…
"Sammy…" Dean's voice was calm and quiet, carrying more sympathy than Sam could ever remember it carrying before… "It's alright….."
Watching as hot tears, tears of confusion spilled down his baby brother's cheeks the older of the two boys reached over and placed a comforting hand on the others shoulder giving it a firm squeeze, "You did the best you could." He coaxed quietly not to sure how to deal with the situation.
"You boys alright?" John's voice rang through the cave seconds later as he fought to catch his breath coming up next to his son's.
Dean eyed his father before shifting his gaze to his brother who was still staring motionlessly down at the body in his arms.
"C'mon Sammy…" John whispered delicately as he moved in closer and slowly, carefully took the girl from his grasp before draping his arm around Sam's shoulder and leading all of them out of the cave.
Dean watched the numbers on the clock change from 1:54 to 1:55 and frowned to himself, he couldn't get the image of his brother out of his mind. The fear, the desperation, the sadness in those innocent orbs was more than he could bare.
He had known Sam wasn't ready, he tried to tell his father, but he wouldn't listen… he wouldn't accept it, give him more time to prepare… and now there were scars, scars that could already be seen below the surface of his baby brother that would never heal.
Hearing the water in the small adjoining bathroom turn on Dean's face shifted into a look of confusion as he rolled over on to his side and found his brother's bed empty.
Sam stood in the small motel bathroom his mind still racing and reeling from the events only hours before, all he could hear was that final scream.
His nerves rattling inside his body he looked down at his hands and swallowed hard.
Dirty…. So Dirty…. Dirty……
His thoughts scolded him, taunted him as he reached over and turned the water on as hot as it would go and began scrubbing a single solitary tear working it's way down his cheek as he did so….
His heart began racing in his chest, his breath hitching in his throat as his entire body ignited in a uncontrollable tremble.
He had to clean them.
They were dirty.
He was dirty.
Everything was so dirty, he had to clean them, they had to be clean.
Before he knew it, everything surrounding him, all other thoughts in his head had dissipated…. His mind had tunnel visioned into one single thought .
He was dirty, his hands were so dirty. Nothing else mattered, even as he tried and fought to think of something… Anything else, nothing else mattered, and everything came back to that… A simple solution.
He just he needed to clean them, he was dirty and that was all there was to it….
The more his thoughts screamed at him the harder he scrubbed… and the harder he scrubbed the more his thoughts screamed at him.
Tears began to come faster and faster filling the frightened man's eyes and he harshly wiped them on his sleeve…
"clean… I have to clean them…. I have to clean them….. So dirty…." He whispered to himself.
The scolding water was now burning his flesh as Sam watched his skin turn a bright shade of pink, but his hands, his hands still weren't clean, he was still dirty, and that was unacceptable, as unacceptable as failing, as letting that innocent girl die….
"so dirty…. My hands…. My hands…. My hands…."
Grabbing the washcloth from beside the mirror he began to scrub harder and harder until he was rubbing so hard against his flesh that grunts of physical exhaustion were escaping his lips.
"Clean….Clean… Clean…" he found himself pressing down as hard as he could even as the water began to change from clear to red and he knew he was bleeding, he still couldn't stop…
He wasn't clean….
The blood was making him dirty, the blood was dirty… his hands were dirty…
Dean frowned deeper watching as the numbers on the clock now turned to read 2:34 Sam had been in the bathroom for almost forty minutes, "Even taking a load off takes less than forty frickin minutes!" He whispered to himself as he threw his blanket off and rose to his feet..
"Sammy? You alright in there" He called out as he approached the door. But as he stepped closer and took note of the steam now escaping through the small open crack at the bottom he knew everything was definitely not alright… "Hey Sam? Are you showering this late?"
As he pushed open the door nothing would have prepared him for what waited on the other side.
There stood his little brother surrounded by steam from the scolding water, his cheeks red tears flying freely down his face as he concentrated on the task at hand exhausted and helpless moans still pouring from his lips. His shoulders were sluggish his knees wobbling… His head shaking back and forth….
"Clean… gotta get clean, can't be dirty……clean… gotta get clean….." He was still whispering to himself.
"Sam, what are you-" Dean's voice died off on his lips as he stepped in closer and saw the sink now decorated in blood…Sam's blood. As the young man continued to scrub diligently and harsh at his flesh…
A look of horror spread across his face as he quickly reached over and shut off the water "What the hell are you doing?"
"DON'T!" Sam screamed his tear filled and anguished eyes looking to his brother and away from his hands, his dirty, dirty hands. "They're dirty… I-I have to clean them…." He reasoned as though it were the most sane statement he had ever spoken
"Dirty? Sam they're bloody."
Closing the gap between them Dean's eyes widened even more then he noticed Sam was still continuing to rub his hands with the washcloth, the sight of his brother's bleeding and raw flesh enough to turn Dean's stomach and force vomit in to his throat "Stop!" Fear laced his voice as he begged reaching into the sink and as carefully as he could prying the washcloth from Sam's raw fingers, "Just stop!"
"What the hell is the matter with you?" He questioned not knowing what else to do as he set the cloth down into the sink and stepped around his brother blocking his path and holding his wrists tightly
"They're dirty…" came the repetitive response as Sam huffed and began trying to force his wrist from his brother's hold.
"Sam no…" Dean whispered now more sure than ever that something was wrong… it was almost as though his brother were…. Broken. His heart shattered as he looked into the detached, confused and obviously frightened soft brown puppy dog eyes of his little brother.
"alright…" he cooed as he gently took Sam's shoulder and half led, half pushed him back toward the beds, "Lets um, lets call dad."
"I just… I have to wash my hands…"
"You've washed your hands enough tonight."
Sam drew his bottom lip into his mouth as he studied the look of worry in his brothers intense gaze. "Dean?"
"Just….Let me call dad…" Dean took a seat on the bed next to Sam and reached for the phone putting a heavy hand on his baby brother's knee to keep him seated and glancing at him when he noticed the younger boy begin to click his tongue repeatedly in the same pattern each time, three and then two and then three again.
"Dad….Dad… You have to come over here…. It's Sam…I think…I think we broke him….."
John sat silently propped up against the headboard of the not so comfortable hotel bed casting his eyes downward and the figure entangled in his grasp he made sure to keep his breaths calm and steady.
Sam's eyes had finally closed. He appeared to finally be sleeping, but still the boys father could not bring himself to loosen the grip he had around his child, his arms securely wrapped around the boys mid section pressing the two of them back to chest.
Slowly he brought his gaze to rest on his other son, Dean was currently sprawled out on the floor in the door jam of the small bathroom, "just in case…" He had said… His neck kinked and stiff against the hard surface of the doors frame, John knew he would be feeling that one in the morning.
It had taken them over two hours to calm Sammy down, to bring him back to a manageable sense of reality… Two hours during which time even the eldest of the Winchesters was over taken by fear… What the hell had happened to his son? What had he done to him?
He knew that the right thing to do would have been to take him to the emergency room, to have a doctor examine him…. But John couldn't bring himself to do that. "He'll be fine in the morning…" He had said in an attempt to comfort not only Dean but himself as well. "He's just had a hard night, everything is going to be fine…."
All three men however, even Sam himself knew that that was probably not the case.
Feeling the figure against him stir John's grip instinctively grew tighter, "shhhh sleep Sammy…" he cooed just as he had when the teenager was no more than a child suffering from a nightmare.
And within seconds much to his dad's grateful pleasure, Sam was once again in a restless slumber.
"Tomorrow." John Winchester nodded to himself swallowing, "Tomorrow if this whole thing isn't better then we'll get you some help Sammy, I promise…"
The images of his scared and shattered little boy were the only company the frightened father could find as he himself found his way into an unwanted sleep.
Sam's hands were throbbing as he opened his eyes slowly the next morning and found himself still pressed oddly comfortingly against his father's chest. Judging by the man's even and shallow intakes of breath he was obviously still fast asleep.
Quietly and carefully the untangled his limbs from his father's before climbing to his feet and stretching, flashes and memories from the night before throwing themselves about in his mind, reminding him that the night before was not just some bad dream.
"Ouch." He exhaled loudly as he spotted Dean still in the cramped and uncomfortable position inside the small doorframe, looking oddly enough like a solider who had fallen asleep at his post.
"Dean…" He whispered quietly leaning down and gripping his brother's shoulders carefully with his bandaged hands.
"wha…?" Came an almost completely incoherent reply as the older of the two felt his body being lifted and instinctively complied pulling himself to his feet and leaning into his brother who was now in fact more than half an inch taller than he was.
Sam staggered momentarily under the sudden onset extra weight against him, but quickly caught his balance and made his way toward the empty bed on the far side of the room, "Time for bed."
By the time he felt the mattress beneath himself, Sam pulling the blanket up to cover him Dean was once again in the land of lollipops and candy canes, dreaming about whatever in the hell it was someone like him would dream about… Naked girls…. Was Sammy's best guess.
The youngest of the three men and currently the only one who seemed to be wide awake with no hopes of falling back to sleep anytime soon, sighed to himself and ran a shaky gauze covered hand over his face. Still trying to put the pieces together from the previous night, trying to figure out exactly when he had gone from completely sane to completely coo-coo… And how long it was going to be before the men in the pretty white coats came to take him away.
It didn't make sense, none of it made anything even resembling sense, Sam could feel his chest beginning to tighten, a renewed… a different fear engulfing his body and invading his mind. He was in control… he was always in control, he was the most organized, most rational, most mentally healthy person he knew, so what in the hell was happening to him?
He was pulled from his panicked disorganized thoughts when he heard a constant pattern like clicking filling his ears, three times, then two, then three again… then three times, then two, then three again… It was a pattern, an obnoxious yet comforting pattern.
And it was coming from him.
The minute he realized it was his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth that was creating the unharmonious melody the young man silenced it and looked around the room for something… anything to do… He just needed to keep busy, he just needed to stay busy long enough to ease his mind, to preoccupy him until his family woke up.. Then they could figure this out together, this had to be some sort of demon, some spirit inside of him, there had to be a logical, rational, supernatural reason for this…
Didn't there? Of course there did.
Hearing his stomach growl Sam nodded to himself, Food, yes food was always a welcomed distraction… Nothing could go wrong as long as he was shoving food in his mouth, he didn't have to think about that, it would only require hand to mouth coordination… No thinking necessary.
Making his way into the small kitchenette Sam frowned slightly looking from counter to counter, from cupboard to cupboard, he couldn't quite put his finger on it… something was wrong… No everything was wrong… everything was all wrong.
Everything needed to have it's place, everything needed to go somewhere and this was just… Wrong…
He would just fix a few things… Just make it look better, organize it, give it order. There was nothing wrong with that right? It would help him kill time and before he knew it his brother would be awake.
Making his way over to the countertop near the small stove Sam moved all the small plates, cups and bowls out of the cupboard and set them down, "You'd think for a furnished kitchen they would at least furnish it correctly." He mumbled to himself shaking his head and scoffing.
Plates on the left, bowls on the right, cups down below….
White then black then white then black….
"No three black plates and two white plates means it has to go black, white, black, white and then black." He slapped his forehead lightly completely oblivious now to the clicking of his tongue once again as he concentrated on the array of dishes in front of him, they had to be just right…
Cups should go on the bottom, not the top. No the top. No the bottom.
His head shook back and forth a few times and he drew his lip into his mouth swallowing, he knew full well what he was doing, but something… was driving him, it had to be right, this was wrong.
"Wrong… it's all wrong…" He mumbled softly retrieving everything from the shelves again and replacing it on to the counter, he didn't care how long it was going to take he was going to get this right… Everything has it's place…. And there was no excuse for this imperfection.
Dean awoke and found a smile pressed against his lips as remnants of the previous nights dream remained fresh and clear in his mind… He had been having quite the dream… quite the dream indeed.
A dream he quickly realized that was much better than his tortured and confused reality. He sat up slowly and looked around, the events of the night before as fresh as the dream in his mind, he didn't remember falling asleep here… And he had the throbbing pain inside his neck to vouch for it. Mindlessly he brought his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it gingerly a hiss of breath escaping his lips. "Terrific." He groaned.
Hearing the sound of clanking dishes in the small kitchen area only now Dean looked to the bed where he had last seen his brother and father the night before. John was still fast asleep, and Sam was no where to be found.
Making his way toward the ruckus in the kitchen Dean paused at the entrance and crossed his arms over his chest, and so the nightmare continues…. He thought to himself taking inventory of the dishes displayed in front of his brother who was once again babbling incoherently …. This time about order and placement rather than dirty hands.
"Plates on the right bowls on the left, cups on the bottom, everything is going to have it's place, everything is going to have order…."
The older man's forehead wrinkled in concern as he watched the scene unfolding, it was like something out of a movie, one of those films about crazy people where they lock you up and stick you in a padded cell. This wasn't his brother he was watching, it couldn't be….
"DAMN-IT!" Sammy hissed picking up one of the plates about to toss it against the wall when he felt a strong set of arms come up around him from behind.
"Put it down." came a soft yet firm command.
"It's wrong Dean, it's all wrong…."
"It's fine Sammy…"
"No it's not!"
"Put the plate down." The older, stronger man repeated, "Please?"
"I-I just…." Sam's voice died off on his now quivering lips and he exhaled defeatedly as tears found their way to his eyes for the third time in the last twenty four hours…
"It's alright," Dean's voice was encouraging, "We'll figure this out… You me and dad, we will get to the bottom of this."
"Am..Am I crazy?" it was as innocent a question as they come and the simple context of it caused a lump the size of a grapefruit to form in Dean's throat as he tried over and over again to swallow it down.
"No… No of course you're not crazy Sammy…."
"Well then what's wrong with me? Why, why can't I stop myself from doing these things? Why are my thoughts all….. Weird… what the hell is happening to me Dean?"
"I-I don't know but dad and I we're gonna take you to the doctor alright we're gonna figure this out…" The answer was more than repetitive but it was the only one the desperate brother could come up with, it was the only thing he could think to say.
"Are you sure I'm not crazy."
"Positive" Dean nodded watching as Sam continued to eye the dishes in front of him eagerly, even if the truth was… He wasn't sure of anything anymore… He didn't have the answers… not this time… Sam didn't need to know that.
The doctor's office was small….To small…. And quiet… To quiet, as Dean looked at his father his knees bouncing in anticipation, they had been sitting, waiting for over two hours, "What the hell is taking so long?" He quipped finally unable to stand it anymore.
"I don't know."
"Well, can't you go up to the bitch behind the desk and make her tell you something… Anything? It's been over two hours he should be out here by now."
"Dean." John sighed softly looking up from the old issue of Time magazine he had been 'pretending' to read a frown on his lips, "She doesn't know anymore than we do right now… You just… you have to try to be patient."
"Patience was never my strong point." Dean's nose twitched as he leaned back heavily in the uncomfortable mauve waiting room chair and closed his eyes exhaling. "This sucks."
Thankfully it was only another few minutes before both men's attention was drawn to the small door only feet away as it opened and out stepped the man they knew to be Sam's doctor. "Thank god." Dean mumbled to himself rising to his feet and attempting to peer behind the man. "Where's Sammy?"
The older man whose name tag read Dr. Weatherbee offered Dean a comforting smile, "No need to worry Mr. Freely your brother is fine, he's still in the exam room, I thought it would be better if I talked to you and your father alone for a few minutes… That's all. I wanted to explain your brothers condition."
Condition? Since when did Sammy have a condition?
"Come again?" Dean's brow cocked questioningly as he felt his father approach behind him.
"Maybe we should sit down."
"I don't want to sit down, I want you to tell me what the hell is going on with my brother."
"Dean please." John frowned bringing his hand to rest on his eldest's shoulder. "Forgive him doctor, he's just a little up tight right now."
"It's quite alright." Dr. Weatherbee pulled the manila file from under his arm and opened it, "The good news is that Sam is in perfect physical health." He began cautiously moving his eyes from Dean to John then back again, "The bad news however… is that after extensive testing, it is clearly apparent that your son is suffering from what we in the medical field call OCD. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, onset by an obviously over traumatic experience."
"OCD?" Dean felt his stomach twist a little nausea creeping up into his senses, "So Sam was right then? He is crazy?"
"No….Dean, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder doesn't mean that your brother is crazy, that is a common misconception. In Sam's case it simply means that his brain has triggered the desire the uncontrollable urge for order in his life… for a world that makes sense. The signs have more than likely always been there, but have gone unnoticed or ignored until their severity increased with a recent event. Sam said that he watched someone close to him pass on…Someone he felt responsible for?"
John nodded a little rubbing his stubble covered chin and hanging on the doctor's every word. "Yesterday."
"Unfortunately there is no set cause for Sam's condition so I can't pin point that as the indefinite cause, but that would be my educated guess as it is with the cases like your son's that I have seen before, the stress, the feeling of loss of control caused him to tailspin."
"How do we help him?" Dean asked bluntly having heard enough for this mans fancy medical terms and worthless words of encouragement.
"Well that is also good news, there are medicines that we can prescribe to steady the levels of serotonin in his brain, which is also a large factor when it comes to OCD, anti-depressants that will help him cope and ease the feelings of depression he is harboring inside… I would also like for Sam to visit with a behavioral specialist, as well as the two of you…"
"Yes, he will help all of you deal with these episodes, so that when it happens again not only sam but you as well can deal with the situation and feel a sense of comfort."
"He doesn't need a specialist… just give him the pills and let us go… fix him and let us take him home!"
John gave the shoulder still in his grasp a squeeze, "Dean… it's alright son…. We will get him whatever help he needs… We will fix him up good as new…"
"He-he can't be sick dad."
"Dean, I need you to understand something for me…" The older man in the white coat spoke quietly, "OCD… it's not a sickness in the way that you might be thinking…. Your brother is not going to die, in fact he's going to be just fine, as long as you are strong enough to help him through this alright? Can you do that for me? For him?"
Dean nodded numbly and stuck his hands nervously into his pockets rattling his keys around, "Can I uh, can I see my brother now please?"
Dr. Weatherbee nodded a small smile appearing on his lips, "Of course, he's down the hall third door on the right, he's probably wondering where we all ran off to anyway, your father and I can finish up here…"
As dean stood outside the room he knew would lead to his brother he drew as much air as he could into his lungs and released it. He needed to be strong, he needed to help Sammy pull through this one, no matter how he felt about all of it, no matter what he was going through, as always Sammy, his Sammy would have to come first.
Opening the door he forced a painful and cocky smile on to his lips and stepped in, Sam's shoes were the first thing he noticed as he kept his eyes cast just a little downward. Shoes that were attached to legs that swung idly back and forth.
"Hey." Sam cleared his throat immediately noticing the amount of tension surrounding his brother.
Dean didn't want to look up. Didn't want to look into his brother's eyes, he was afraid, so afraid of what he was going to see staring back at him… He couldn't…But he had to.
So he did.
And to his surprise… There was no crazy sick person staring back at him.
Just Sammy, with the same wide and innocent eyes he had always wore.
"Hey." his smile grew as he answered.
"So…" it was now Sam's turn to look away, "I guess from what the doctor says… I'm pretty screwed in the head… probably always have been…"
"Nah… You're fine…Everything is going to be just fine."
The confidence, the strength in his brothers words caused Sam's head to rise again as he studied the man standing feet in front of him. "How do you know?"
"Well…" Dean chuckled, "Because I'm the oldest which mean's I'm always right…"
There it is just a little something that I couldn't seem to get out of my head, as my normal readers will tell you I feed off of reviews and opinions so please let me in on what you are thinking…. I want to know it all the good the bad and the indifferent. There will eventually be two more installments to this story but I figured this was a good place to end it.