A/N: Hey everyone. Some of you have been looking forward to this one. Its the sequel, as promised, to Ruby's Story. Picks up immediately after that and mentions many details revealed in that fic, both for Ruby and our favorite guys. If you haven't read that one you probably should. It will make this one easier to follow. Warnings for torture and angst to come in future chapters. This one is going to be updated nightly just like my last one. Enjoy and be sure to let me know what you think!
"Watch out for Sammy, Dean…Sammy first no matter what…" The lamp cord tightened around Sam's neck… he fell to the floor struggling to stay alive…Sam, falling to his knees, a gasp in his voice and a grimace on his face…blood coating his back and Dean's hand. Sam's head lolling on his shoulders, his eyes sliding away from Dean's as they closed as if to say "I'm sorry, I'm not strong enough."
The silver orb hitting Sam in the forehead, the mercurial glow spreading to his eyes and changing them…silver…hazel for a time…silver…black…hazel…yellow.
"No, S-SAAMMM!" Dean sat upright on the bed with a choked scream. Sunlight was streaming through the drapes he'd been too tired to close last night shining yellow over his torso, which was sheened with a cold sweat. It hugged his skin like a clammy glove and made him cringe. His eyes darted wildly about the room before he finally realized he was in the motel Bobby had brought them back to after Sam's confrontation with the crossroads demon. Memories washed over him like an acid bath and he bolted from the rumpled bed, twisted covers catching at him, trying to hold him prisoner to that nightmare world he'd woken from. Dean panicked, and fought with the sheets tangled about his sweat covered legs, ripping them as he broke free. He fought like a madman against the memories had him in a choke hold, against the bile that had risen in his throat, to cut off his air supply, against the desperation he felt at being locked inside his head with the images he'd been thus far unable to escape.
He finally lurched free from the remainder of the tattered covers and rushed to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. He fell hard to his knees, smacking them off the tile in front of the toilet and began retching. He expelled the contents of his stomach from the night before, more bile than anything, and kept heaving. The heaves didn't stop even as the tears flowed, images assaulting Dean in their continued intensity.
Sam…stabbed, his blood coating Dean's hand. Sam… silver eyed and roaring with laughter, black eyed and holding lightening in the palm of his hand. Sam…hazel eyed with tears shining in them. Sam's eyes going silver, fading to darkest black. Sam's eyes turning yellow, that hated, hated shade of yellow.
Dean threw up again, choking on a sob. When he finally felt he could move away he flushed the mess and collapsed, sobs tearing vicious holes in him as he lay on the bathroom tile. Dean curled into a fetal position on his right side, facing the bathroom door. He ground both palms into his eyes hard, hoping…praying that it would blur the images, make them stop. Instead they became sharper, more distinct. Dean sobbed brokenly and began rocking softly back and forth on his right shoulder, not caring that he was freezing. Not caring that Sam should be in the other bed in the vacant room and wasn't or that Dean himself looked like a three year old throwing a tantrum. Dean was beyond broken.
Vaguely he heard the motel room door open and just couldn't bring himself to care. A figure walked up to him that he could sense but couldn't see since he had his hands over his eyes, trying to push his eyeballs out the back of his head to stop the nightmare images. He felt the person sink to their knees almost silently, except for the pop of joints, and reach for him. Dean flinched from the touch on his t-shirt clad shoulder.
Bobby reached out and gripped him tighter. "Aw, Dean." He said quietly. Dean flinched again. "Hey, it's okay. Dean c'mon, kid. What's goin' on?" He reached for both of Dean's shoulders and hauled the non-resisting form upright. Dean sagged into him as Bobby held him up. Dean was sobbing and shaking, his eyes rubbed red and bloodshot. Bobby folded the oldest Winchester into his arms. Dean wrapped one arm around Bobby's middle and fisted his hand in the back of his old friend's flannel shirt, which smelled comfortingly of grease and gunpowder. "What's goin on?"
"B-bobby, I… nightmare. I-I…Sammy. W-where's Sam?"
"He went to get us breakfast. I went after my truck. You were sleepin'…figured you'd be okay. C'mon Dean, let's get you back to the bed. You're freezin'."
"Y-yeah, okay." Dean turned and shakily made his way back to the bed with Bobby steadying him. Dean flopped down on the bed and threw a hand over his eyes when the sunlight filtering through the uncovered window blinded his sensitive eyes and made him feel like they were on fire. Bobby quickly pulled the drapes and went back to Dean's side. He pulled Dean's arm away from his face and Dean blinked, his eyes watering severely from the pressure that he had on them for so long. He blinked repeatedly, trying to ease the burn and return his vision to normal. It wasn't working.
"Hang on a sec, Dean. I'll get something to take the sting out." Dean watched Bobby through badly blurry eyes while he went to the med kit and retrieved a soothing eye wash. He put some drops in Dean's eyes and Dean blinked several times, moving the lubricant around and clearing his vision.
"Thanks Bobby." Dean near whispered. "Bobby, you said Sam went for breakfast?"
"He take my car?"
"How long ago?"
Bobby glanced at his watch. "Half hour maybe."
Fear flared in Dean's eyes. "The diner is only two miles down the road. He should be back by now." Dean stood from the bed and hurried to change clothes. He grabbed his colt from his bag and stuffed it into the waistband of his jeans. He was still shaking but now it had nothing to do with the cold, or his dream. He ran at a dead clip for Bobby's truck and his sense of urgency soon spread to the older hunter. Bobby's concern for the boy, both boys, grew with Dean's near palpable fear. They pulled out of the motel parking lot, kicking up smoke as the tires spun on the pavement. Bobby hit the gas harder and they were soon pulling into the lot of the diner. Bobby killed the rumbling engine seconds after stopping beside the Impala with a screech of brakes. Dean got out, his every hunter instinct screaming at him. He slid a hand behind his back and up his shirt to grip the butt of his pistol, thumbing the safety off.
The Impala gleamed in the parking lot, early morning dew still glistening on the paint job. Dean looked in the window and saw that the doors were locked and the keys missing. He had his own set so Sam's were with him. Please let him be okay. Dean stalked silently up to the front of the diner and glanced at Bobby, who had came up beside him in a crouching run. They both stood straight, backs to solid brick as they peered inside the diner's front windows. Something inside caught Dean's eye and his stomach lurched. He cast a glance at the parking lot. There were nine cars besides the Impala. There should have been at least nine other people in the diner besides employees and Sam. Dean saw no movement. He nodded to Bobby and pulled the door open, drawing his gun at the same time. The chime of the doorbell rang loudly in the too silent diner. Dean was brought up short at a vulnerable position just inside the still open door. Inside the booth nearest him a man sat with his head resting on his breakfast plate. Blood dripped off the table and bench seat of the booth to pool on the floor around the man's feet and widen in an expanding puddle over the floor. Dean held his gun at the ready and pried his eyes away from the sight before him. He swung the gun around quickly checking every nook and booth. No Sam. He discovered thirteen bodies, the youngest being a toddler in a booster seat, sitting at the last booth in the diner with his young parents. Still no Sam.
Dean lowered his gun, heart beginning to race as thoughts crowded his mind. Too damn much like what happened before Cold Oak. Can't happen again, it can't! Sammy, please be okay. Please man, be okay. I can't lose you, not again. Dean lowered his gun. "Sammy?" He glanced outside to Bobby and shook his head. Bobby entered the diner cautiously, his eyes following the same path as Dean's, his normally gruff features softening as he laid eyes upon the toddler that would never grow up.
"SAM!" Silence. "God, Bobby, not again. This is just how freakin' Yellow Eyes took Sam." Not again. Dean ran a hand over his mouth and then through his hair. "SSAAAAMMMM!" He screamed. Bobby jumped at the outburst, tears forming as he realized the terror that gripped Dean.
They… Dean killed Yellow Eyes. It can't be him. Who the hell has the power to take him again? Who the hell wants that poor boy now? Bobby mused as he glanced at an agitated Dean who prowled around the diner.
Dean rounded a corner and came up against the coolers that housed food made in the diner. He gaped. The big stainless steel doors were smeared with red. Blood, it was blood. Dean's heart skipped a beat as he knew without a doubt that it was Sam's. The blood formed words that struck terror into this aching heart. "Bobby!" Bobby came around the corner at a sprint.
The cooler doors read: If you want him, come find him. We're having fun with our leader. Watch for the signs, we want you to find him…eventually.
Dean swallowed back bile. "Demons have him." He said as he looked away from the note scrawled in his brother's blood. Bobby's eyes were fixed to the bottom of the grotesque words. There was another word, a signature.
"Dean, Sam's not the only one they have."
"What?" Bobby pointed to the smaller word that Dean had ignored. Dean saw it.
"No!" At the bottom of the doors just under the large blood written words was another, a name. Joshua. Dean realized then that he knew the writing. A demon was possessing Joshua. And Joshua had Sam.
A/N: Hope you all enjoyed and don't forget to hit that little button! I'll see you again tomorrow evening.