Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts
Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)
I"M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I've been sooooo busy T^T
This chapter's kinda short.... I PROMISE I'll try to make the next chap longer :P
Enjoy chapter eighteen!
"C'mon, c'mon..." John growled.
This is Mark Shepello, Dean's voice said. Leave a message.
"Damn it!" John snapped his cell shut, focusing on driving. It was no more than an hour ago that he was researching the new hunt when a migraine of epic proportions hit him. And as soon as it was over...
Sam, his son, giving himself in exchange for his family, had been repaid with his family straight-out forgetting about him. Regardless that it was supernaturally influenced.
Dean had found him though. In where ever they were stuck, Dean had found his brother. He knew something was wrong and stayed to investigate it, probably inadvertently saving his brother in the process. But by the sounds of it, Sam was bad off. Dean said he looked like someone who'd been tortured in every possible way.
John gripped his steering wheel with a death grip. First that damn demon kills his wife and ruins his son, and now he takes his illegitimate son, who's already been through hell, and tortures him! Oh, when John finally gets his hands on that son of a bitch... there won't even be enough evidence left for even suspicion.
When John finally arrived, it was late in the afternoon. Worry egging him on, he ran to the motel room, throwing the door open. "Sam! Dean!"
Sam looked up from his spot on the bed with eyes wide with fear. He minutely cowered away from John, not realizing who it was.
"S-Sam!" John said breathlessly. Closing the door behind him, he approached the startled teen. "Oh my god, are you okay!?"
Sam frowned a little, shying away from the man. "I-I don'…"
It was then that John finally looked at Sam. Sam was wearing sweats and a t-shirt that were much too big for him, probably Dean's. He was emaciated, his bones sticking out sharply from underneath his skin. His left arm was in a homemade splint, Sam cradling the arm close to his body. He was extremely pale, his pallor abnormal and sickly looking. His eyes were red-rimmed and had bags under them.
All in all, he looked like he'd been through hell.
"Oh, god, Sammy…"
As John approached him, Sam's breathing quickened and he panicked. Throwing himself back, he quickly grabbed at his clothes, trying to remove them.
"Sammy, no!" John said panicky. Seeing himself as the problem, John yelled for his son.
Not a moment later, Dean burst out from the bathroom, a towel hanging low on his waist. "Dad?!" Dean said surprised. Then he saw Sam and what he was trying to do. "What happened?!" Dean half-yelled as he approached his brother to comfort him.
"I-I scared him," John stuttered out, stating the obvious. "Dean, do you…?"
"Yeah…" Dean said as he wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled his sweats back up. "I remember."
Sam's breathing was hitched, he struggled a little, but Dean's strong arms kept him in place. "Deeeaannn…" he whimpered.
"Shh… it's okay, Sammy… Dad's here now, see?"
"D-Dad…?" Sam said in question, looking back up at John. "Dad?"
John smiled as he sat on the bed next to his sons. "Yeah, Sammy… it's me."
Slowly leaning forward, Sam left his brother's embrace in order to lean against his father's chest, an arm snaking around to grip his back. The sudden memory of what the demon showed Sam drew a sob from him. "Daaad..."
John blinked as his vision blurred. "It's okay, Sammy... We're here now," John looked at Dean, and the young man gave a confident nod. "...and we're not leaving you."
"What do we do now?" Dean asked.
Sam had fallen sleep under the care of his family, Dean placing Sam under the covers and tucking him in for some much needed rest.
"We hunt that son of a bitch down and burn his ass," John growled.
Dean wholeheartedly agreed with his father, but his logical side said differently. "But that's what got us in this situation. We went after the demon, therefore he got to Sam and..." Dean couldn't bring himself to even say it.
John sighed. "But we can't just leave him out there..."
"Sammy needs us," Dean said determined. "I wanna salt and burn that bitch as much as you do, but I'm not leaving Sam alone and we sure the hell cant take him with us. If Sam was screwed up before, that god I don't want to imagine what he's like now. I doubt we'll even be able to get Sam to do anything on his own accord anymore, and you want to go after revenge!? Revenge isn't gonna help him, Dad!"
John closed his eyes and sighed, knowing his son was right but the need to kill something burning in his chest. "I know... it's just..."
"Dad, I understand," Dean said. "you have no idea how much I wanna hunt that bastard, for what he did to Mom and Sammy. But we can't. It'll just make Sam worse."
John sighed and slowly nodded. "Agreed." He looked over at Sam and sighed. "In that case, I think we should head to Bobby's. We'll leave tomorrow morning."
Dean nodded. "Alright."
They quickly got ready for bed, both exhausted from the emotionally-charged day. As John turned off the lights and climbed into his own bed, Dean crawled into the bed and laid next to his brother. Sam was shaking slightly and his body was tensed. His fingers remained firmly in his mouth as he subconsciously scooted closer to Dean, pressing himself against his big brother's warmth. As Dean wrapped an arm around his brother, he could feel Sam's body relax a little and the shaking calm down a bit.
"I've gotcha," Dean barely whispered as he curled up with his six foot four brother. "You're safe now."
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