Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts
In this chapter, Dean is 16 and Sam is 12 (they're unrelated) For the majority of the story though, they're 19 and 15.
This story is totally AU and the idea just wouldn't leave me alone! I'm sorry for starting yet ANOTHER story! I won't be continuing it unless it gets an amazing response or something. Lightness and Darkness is still my priority.
Enjoy chapter one!
Dean tapped his pencil impatiently against his paper, thinking of all the ways to sneak out of the house under his parent's radar.
Dean rolled his eyes exasperatedly as his little brother came hopping into his room. "Trying to do my homework," Dean growled.
Adam cocked his head a little. "Since when do you do your homework?"
"Since Mom and Dad grounded me after somebody told on me!" Dean snapped at his brother.
"Hey! Just because you were out all night and came back all drunk doesn't make it my fault!"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just leave me alone and go play with your dolls."
Adam scrunched his face. "They're action figures!"
Adam humphed and stormed off, slamming Dean's bedroom door as he left.
"I need to get a lock," Dean said under his breath.
Thirty minutes later and no further on his homework, Dean threw his pencil down, muttering a small curse under his breath and got up to get something to eat.
On his way down the stairs, he noticed the dead silence of the house. He stopped mid-step, trying to hear his mother's cooking or his brother making a racket.
Nothing. Not a single sound.
"Mom?" Dean called out. He descended the rest of the way down, looking into the living room from the stair platform. "Guys? Where is everyone?" Dean walked through the living room when he heard a soft whimpering. Not sure he heard it, Dean stayed still, making sure he was hearing properly. When he heard the whimper again, Dean frowned in worry. "Adam?"
He heard it again coming from the kitchen. Now seriously worried, Dean half ran to the kitchen door. "Adam!?"
As soon as he burst through the door, a sudden force pulled on Dean, flinging him through the kitchen until his body slammed against the wall.
Air knocked out of him, Dean gasped for breath, his vision blurring with sudden tears of pain. As his vision cleared, he saw a form standing in front of him. Dean blinked a few times to clear the tears away. "Dad...? What're you...?"
His father chuckled. "Sorry, sonny. Daddy's not home." His eyes melted into black, the overhead lights flickering.
Dean's eyes widened. What the hell?! I must be dreaming! I have to be...! Suddenly he noticed the pool of blood at his father's feet. The blood was running from somewhere behind the counter. "Dad...?"
His father turned around to the unknown source of blood. He knelt down behind the counter for a moment, a squelching sound reaching Dean's ears. His father stood again, now holding a bloodied knife. His father tisked. "I guess I won't be taking your mother to prom this year."
Dean's eyes widened impossibly further as he comprehended the scene with his father's words. I AM dreaming! This has to be a dream!
His father turned and walked to the other side of the kitchen. It was only then that Dean noticed Adam, also pinned to a wall like him. Adam was sobbing, his face red and eyes swollen in grief. His gaze flickered from his mother's body, which he could obviously see, and his approaching father, his terror palatable. When their father stood towering over Adam, he started screaming, his voice high-pitched from fear. "Daddy, please stop! Please!"
Their father just smirked as he brandished the knife in front of Adam. "Who's been a bad boy...?" their father sang.
"Dad, stop it!" Dean shouted, his own tears of anger falling down his face. "Why are you doing this?!"
Without turning, their father chuckled. "Because it's fun." And with a flick of his wrist, the knife buried itself into Adam's stomach.
"NO!" Dean screamed. "ADAM!"
Adam looked down at the knife protruding from his stomach, looking genuinely confused at its presence. A moment later, his eyes widened in fear and he screamed. "DEA--!"
Quick as lightning, their father yanked the knife out and thrust it into Adam's throat, stopping him mid-scream. Blood bubbled out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin as Adam fell limply against whatever force was holding him up.
"A-Adam..." Dean choked. He felt as if something was physically blocking air from his lungs as brother's dying plea fell silent in the air.
His father laughed as he pulled the knife out and turned away from the ruined body. Dean stared at his father with wide eyes. "Don't," Dean croaked. "Dad... Please..."
There was a loud bang and the kitchen door exploded, splinters fling everywhere. Dean's father cried out in pain and rage, as he turned towards the source. Dean saw small holes in the back of his father's clothes, the flesh underneath audibly sizzling.
A rugged looking stranger, who was standing where the kitchen door once was, cocked his shotgun and fired again, hitting Dean's father full in the chest.
Dean cried out to his father by instinct, his father crying out in inhuman pain. The stranger pulled out a bottle of water and quickly opened it. As Dean's father charged at the stranger, the stranger flung the water at him, the liquid burning him like boiling water. The stranger quickly grabbed Dean's father and flung him into the other room and out of sight. A moment later, Dean and Adam's body fell to the floor.
Dean was on all fours, staring at the floor between his hands. The sickening thud of Adam's body hitting the floor echoed in his head, making him shake. A moment later, he leaned forward and vomited, harsh heaves shooting through his body. After his stomach was thoroughly emptied, he sat on his haunches, staring at the ceiling. He could hear his father screaming and the stranger chanting something. A vague feeling of needing to know what was happening forced Dean to move his numb body. He slowly stood up and stumbled into the living room.
A tarp was laid out on the floor, a large pentagram depicted on it. His father was standing in the middle of it, his eyes pitch black and glaring at the stranger. The stranger was standing outside the pentagram, reading some form of chant from a leather bound book.
Dean just stood there and stared, the evening's events overwhelming his ability to think straight. His father was jerking; his face blurring inhumanly as the stranger continued to chant.
Suddenly his father threw his head back and screamed. Dean shouted out in surprise as a thick black cloud spurted out from his father's mouth, the cloud disappearing into thin air as it exited. His father fell limply to the floor and there was silence.
The stranger frowned. Not seeing that Dean was in the room, he stepped up to Dean's father and examined the body. It was only when a foamy substance started to bubble out of his father's mouth did both Dean and the stranger realize: poison.
The stranger sighed and shook his head sadly.
"W-what..." Dean stuttered.
The stranger jumped at the sudden break of silence. "Ah, goddammit..." he mumbled.
"What j-just hap-ppened?" Dean demanded, his voice still weak.
The stranger looked at Dean with something akin to pity. "Look, kid. I'm sorry. But you have to try and forget what you just saw. Trust me, you'll be better off in the long run."
Dean shook his head. "Nah-ah," Dean growled, his voice returning. "I just watched my entire family get murdered. I was held up by an invisible force field, meanwhile, my father died getting choked on way-too-solid smoke!" Dean shook his head again, his eyes never leaving the stranger. "I will never forge this. And you know what? You obviously know what's going on here, so don't go anywhere until you fucking tell me what just happened!"
The stranger stared at him for a moment before giving a small, humorless smile. "How old are you, son?"
Dean jerked his head a little, not sure he heard the stranger right. "What?"
"How old are you?"
Dean gave a small frown. "Sixteen."
The stranger shook his head. "Jesus kid, what about school? Your friends?"
Dean shrugged. "I'm failing school as it is. And who says I have any friends?" Dean looked down at his father's body, his demeanor changing. "It wasn't him, was it?"
The stranger slowly shook his head. "No."
Dean looked back at the stranger. "Then what was it?"
The stranger sighed. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"
Dean shook his head, his expression turning into one of rage. "Something did this to my family. And I wanna know what."
They stood in silence, the stranger obviously thinking through the situation. "What's your name, boy?"
Dean blinked, surprised that the stranger was giving in that easily. "Dean Campbell."
The stranger held out a hand to Dean. When Dean took it, the stranger nodded in recognition. "John Winchester."
Dean slowly nodded. "Okay then, Mr. Winchester..."
"John," the stranger insisted. "Mr. Winchester is way to formal for someone like me." John pointed to the door. "Go out and wait in the truck outside."
"What?" Dean said. "Leave? Now?"
John sighed. "Listen, boy. I have every reason to just leave you here on your on devices. But I know for a fact that you will pursue what did this to your family until you destroy yourself. I'd rather be there to make sure that doesn't happen. In the meantime, you do as I say."
Dean huffed in anger at the man. "I can't just leave..."
"You can and you will," John said. "And it's better if you don't pack. It makes things easier to bare if you don't have reminders."
Dean contemplated the man's words, looking around his childhood home. It looked so different now. Amazing how one event can change your view of the world. "Can just get something real quickly?"
John sighed and nodded. "But make it quick."
Dean nodded and practically sprinted up the stairs. His mind had not yet caught up to the gravity of everything. That would come later. Now, Dean was trusting to his gut to tell him what to do.
He wanted to say goodbye to his family, but he didn't want to see their ruined bodies again. He didn't want his last memory of them to be what happened tonight. So he ran into his room and grabbed a picture frame. It was taken at the park a few months ago. His parents were in each other's arms while Dean had Adam in a headlock.
Dean just stared at the photo for a moment, time freezing in place. It suddenly occurred to him that this was no longer his life. He'd never tease or bicker with his brother again. He'd never toss a football around with his father again and he'd never get to eat his mother's cooking again. That life was effectively destroyed tonight.
The soft dripping sound as his tears hit the glass frame went unnoticed as Dean sobbed. He held the picture frame in a shaky grasp as he sobbed his heart out. The grief shook his entire body, as if it was trying to break out of his chest.
Dean turned away from John, who was now staring at him from his bedroom door. He barely knew this guy and he'd be damned before he let him be seen like this.
There was a soft thump as John dropped the duffel bag he was holding. He walked up to the boy slowly so not to startle him and placed a hand on the shoulder. Dean didn't seem to mind. In fact, he leaned into the touch. "I'm not gonna lie to you," John said. "This is gonna be hard on you if you come with me or not. It's ultimately your decision, though. If you really believe there's nothing left for you here, then you should come with me. But if you think you have any sort of future staying right here and forgetting what you saw tonight, then I think you should stay."
Dean quickly shook his head. "No." He brought up an arm to wipe his tears away. "There's nothing for me here. I drink a lot and bang dozens of chicks a month." He gave a wet sigh. "Things are never going to be the same for me, but I don't care."
Dean shrugged John's hand off his shoulder and turned towards the older man, giving him look of pure determination. "So we going or what?"
Gordon Walker pulled up in front of the house, turning off the ignition and waited.
He had just been passing through this dinky little town, but when he read the local paper, he found signs. Small signs, insignificant, even to most hunters. No electrical storms or anything of that sort, but there were signs. A demon was in this town, probably low level, but any demon of any level deserved a quick trip to hell in Gordon's book. And all those little signs were pointing directly at this house
Making sure he had everything he needed to exorcise this bastard, he grabbed his shotgun and headed towards the house. He started to carefully pick the lock when he heard a scream from inside. Not wasting anytime, he stood back, kicked the door down, and ran inside.
A woman and her son cried out as Gordon burst into their living room. Gordon's eyes swiveled from the mother and son to the television, which was currently playing a horror movie.
Son of a bitch... Gordon silently cursed. He lowered his gun and sighed. "Is there anyone else in this house?"
The woman's eyes widened as she shook her head. "I-if you don't get out n-now, I'm c-calling the p-police!"
"You can call whoever you'd like," Gordon said as he pulled out a bottle of holy water.
"How about you just get the hell outta our house!" the boy said defiantly.
"Sam!" the woman quickly hushed. "I've got this!"
Sam didn't say anything, but had a protective grip on his mother's robe.
All the signs pointed here... "I just have to make sure..." Gordon said. He flicked the water bottle at the mother, splashing her a little.
The woman frowned in confusion as the water hit her face. "What're you...?!"
Gordon ignored her as he turned to the boy and flicked the water bottle at him.
Sam hissed in pain as the water hit his face. "Ow! That burned, you freak!"
Gordon's eyes widened. He grabbed the woman's arm and pulled her back from the boy. "Stay behind me, lady!"
"What...!? Let go of me!" The woman tried to pry herself from Gordon's grasp, but he was much to strong.
"Let go of her!" Sam yelled. He charged at Gordon with the intent of getting him to let go.
"No, Sammy! Run!" his mother screamed.
Gordon flung the holy water at Sam, hitting him full in the face. Sam screamed, clutching his face and falling into the ball on the floor. He started to cry as the burning sensation failed to recede. "Get this stuff off me!" Sam cried desperately.
"Sammy!" the woman screamed. "You son of a bitch!" She kicked Gordon in the leg, but he merely pushed her away. She hit her head on the living room table, knocking her unconscious as she hit the floor.
Gordon looked at the sobbing heap on the floor. "Well, you're certainly the most pathetic demon I've ever exorcised." He grabbed the demon by the arm and dragged it to the other room.
Earlier, he had broken in when no one was home. He drew a devil's trap under the rug in the office. Now he flung the demon to approximately where the devil's trap was. "Time to send your ass to hell," he said as he pulled out his journal.
The burning mostly gone, Sam looked up at the man with a tear-stained face. "You're nuts," he mumbled. He pulled himself up and tried to charge the man. About two feet away from Gordon, Sam hit something. Sam looked in the space in front of him in surprise. He put his hands up and felt the invisible barrier keeping him in. "W-what is this!?"
Gordon knelt and flipped the rug back, revealing the devil's trap. Sam just stared at it wide eyed. "What is this...?" Sam almost whimpered.
Gordon stared the exorcism, ignoring Sam. Because as soon as Sam hit the edge of the devil's trap, his eyes turned pitch black.
But after the exorcism was finished, Sam was still standing there, eyes black, trembling, and scared. "Where's my mom?" Sam pleaded. "I wanna see my mom..."
"Shut up!" Gordon yelled. "You don't have a mother, you demon!"
Sam looked at Gordon, genuinely confused. "What are you talking about!?" Sam begged. "Please just let me see my mom!"
What the hell is this? Gordon thought. He stepped forward and grabbed Sam by the chin, any fear of the demon's powers diminishing away by the second. "What are you?"
Sam started to cry again. "Please," he whispered. "Don't hurt me."
Gordon frowned. Holy water burns it and it can be restrained by a devil's trap. It's obviously a demon, but a demon this weak couldn't stop the exorcism process. Unless... this demon isn't possessing the boy. It is the boy! A full embodiment of a demon! He let go of the boy, walking out of the office.
"W-what're you doing?" Sam asked as Gordon left the room. There was silence until a gunshot rang out through the house. "MOM!" Sam screamed. "No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!"
Gordon walked in a moment later, tucking the gun into the back of his pants. "If you are what I think you are," Gordon said. "I think I may have some use for you."
Sam's eyes widened as Gordon advanced on him. "No, please... leave me alone..." Sam whimpered. Gordon grabbed him by the arm and started to drag him out of the house and back to his car.
Sam pulled against Gordon's hold, scratching and biting him. "Let go of me!" Sam screamed, starting to get angry. "Leggo, you freak!"
Gordon rolled his eyes, getting fed up with the little demon's resistance. He pulled out the holy water and flung what was left of the contents at Sam's face again. Sam cried out in pain, his body falling limp as it tried to curl in on itself. Gordon shoved the demon's body into the car and locked it as he opened the trunk. "Good thing I'm always prepared," Gordon said to himself as he pulled a pair of iron handcuffs from the trunk.
Sliding into the driver's seat, he grabbed on of Sam's resisting arms and handcuffed it to the seat. Sam screamed as the metal burned his arm. "What is this!?" Sam screamed. "Take it off! Take it off! It burns!"
Gordon grabbed the demon by its hair and pulled it's head back. "Let's get a few things straight. You're not human. You're some form of demon. On that basis alone, I should gank you right here and now. But considering your... circumstances, I can't. And you know what? I believe you might be quite useful. But if you don't do everything that I say, I swear you will regret it. You think the holy water and iron cuffs hurt? You should see what I can do with a combination of things." Sam's eyes widened at the implication. "Do I make myself clear?"
Sam nodded, tears falling down his face. Gordon nodded and sat back in his seat, starting the ignition. Sam looked down at the cuffs, which were still burning his arm. Sam grabbed his arms tightly, trying to numb the pain in anyway possible. What's just happened to me?
Okay, so not that good of a first chap :P
Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD