Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Twilight.
Thanks to Cas for the inspiration.
Slash, Wincest. Boys are unrelated in this. AU.
Bobby paced the waiting room, waiting to hear anything about the boy he considered a son. Damn John and his crusade. It had killed John three years ago and now Sam...the looks he'd been given said one thing, be prepared for the worst. He'd seen both Winchester's pull off some pretty miraculous recoveries but the sinking feeling in his gut said there would be no miracles this time. He slammed his fist into the wall. It wasn't right, Sam wasn't even twenty yet and he was in emergency surgery, fighting for his life.
Honestly Bobby didn't know what had happened. It should have been a simple hunt, just a normal salt and burn. But then Sam had called, delirious and barely conscious. Bobby had called the police and hospitals in the area Sam was meant to be and then jumped in his truck. He'd gotten the call while on the road; Sam had been found in the Impala and taken to the closest hospital. He'd arrived to find out the boy had suddenly taken a turn for the worse and had been rushed into surgery, a surgery he wasn't expected to survive.
"Mr. Singer." A voice called and Bobby stared in horror at the blood soaked scrubs the doctor was wearing.
"Sam..." he managed to croak and then his legs buckled as the doctor gave him a small smile.
"Despite everything he is alive. Your nephew's a fighter Mr. Singer. We're moving him into the ICU soon so you can see him once he's settled. I need to warn you that the machines he is hooked up to can look a bit disconcerting but for now they are necessary." The doctor explained and Bobby nodded. Sam was alive, that was all that mattered.
"What was wrong?" He asked and the doctor frowned.
"He had a collapsed lung, punctured spleen, five broken ribs, a fractured him and a concussion. He's lucky none of his ribs punctured his lungs but there was internal bleeding but we managed to stop it and he's been given a transfusion. He's not out of the woods yet but his chances are looking a lot better now. I am worried about the head injury but we won't know the extent of the damage until he wakes up."
"Thanks doc." Bobby said distantly as he went over the injuries in his head, fighting the urge to be sick.
Bobby stared down at the young man in the bed and had to choke back a sob. He'd been warned but it was still nothing like seeing it for himself. Sam was on a ventilator because he still couldn't breathe by himself properly and they didn't want his body under any more stress. He had so many IV's in it was ridiculous and there were more wires going from him to machines than Bobby could count. Sam was incredibly pale against the white of the hospital bed sheets and Bobby could see heavy bruising on his torso where his gown was gaping a bit. He'd never seen Sam in such bad shape. Sure the kid had been hospitalised before, even once in the ICU, but it had never been this bad.
Cautiously moving forward Bobby gently touched Sam's hand and had to fight not to recoil at the cool, clammy skin. He pulled the chair up and sat down, pulling off his cap to twist in his hands.
"Hey Sammy, I don't know if you can hear me kiddo but I'm here. They won't let me stay in here all the time but I got a room nearby and they'll call me if there's any change. When you wake up we're going to have words about scaring people my age Sam, it ain't good for my heart. You just rest and heal Sam, you hear me? I got the Impala for you; she's parked at my motel for when they let you out of here. Then you're gonna spend the next six months at my place. I've gotta go now, don't want them to kick me out." He stood up and brushed Sam's bangs back.
"Get better kiddo." He whispered and then left the room.
Bobby took his normal seat beside Sam's bed. It had been just over a week and the kid was looking better though still pale. They'd taken him off the ventilator the day before but he still wore an oxygen mask and they were keeping a close watch on his lungs. But Sam had still shown no signs of waking.
"Gonna make me talk to myself again today Sam?" Bobby asked as he took Sam's limp hand in his own.
"Come on, you don't want to spend your Birthday in here do you kid?" He joked softly and then settled back into his chair, never letting go of Sam's hand. Apparently when he was there the nurses noticed a change in Sam's brainwaves so they'd told him to talk to Sam as much as he could and to have physical contact. He'd do whatever it took to get the kid to wake up.
"Finally got all the blood off the Impala's upholstery. You really made a mess of it Sam. Think there was more blood in the car than in you. Police offered to have it done professionally but I figured you'd rather have me do it. Managed to keep them from finding the arsenal too."
Bobby went silent as the hand in his twitched. He held his breath and squeezed gently only to grin as Sam's hand contracted around his.
"Sam? That's it kiddo. Come on open those eyes. You've been asleep long enough son." Bobby encouraged and was rewarded with Sam's eyelids fluttering.
"Come on Sam, you can do it. I've got you." Dazed hazel eyes slowly blinked open and wandered the room until finally focussing on him.
"Hey Sam." He greeted with a grin. Sam just blinked at him and squeezed his hand again.
"I'm going to call the nurse, okay?" Sam blinked and squeezed again and Bobby went to the door.
"Hey! He's awake!" Bobby called and the nurse came running. He grinned as he saw it was Anna; she was a sweet kid and knew what she was doing despite her young age. He hovered as she walked over to Sam and began checking his vitals.
"Hello Sam, it's nice of you to finally join us. My name's Anna and I'm the nurse on duty. Can you tell me your Birthday?" She asked as she made some quick notes on Sam's chart and then lifted the head of the bed so he was reclined and could see the room better. Sam opened his mouth and then coughed.
"Here, suck on some of these slowly and try again." She offered him a spoon of ice chips and Sam obediently opened his mouth when she removed the mask. Bobby grinned at the look of relief on Sam's face as the liquid found his probably parched throat.
"May...second...eight three." Sam croaked out and Anna smiled.
"That's good Sam. What's the last date you remember?"
"March fifth...two thousand and three." Sam's voice improved as he sucked on some more ice.
"And do you know the nice gentleman behind me?" She asked and Sam looked over at Bobby again, managing a small smile.
"Bobby Singer." Sam answered without hesitation.
"Excellent. You're looking very good Sam. I'm going to leave you with your Uncle while I go call your doctor, okay?" Sam nodded and she left. Bobby moved over to the bed and grinned.
"Good to have you back kid; you gave me a good scare." Bobby admitted and Sam nodded.
"You've got nothing to be sorry about, I'm just glad you managed to call. You were pretty messed up when they found you."
"How bad?" Sam asked, obviously still not entirely with it.
"Bad enough. Get some sleep if you need it Sam, I'll be here." Sam nodded and drifted off.
Bobby watched as Sam sat on his porch, staring off into space. He'd fought the hospital to bring the kid home and finally Sam had simply signed himself out against their wishes. His heart broke as he watched Sam slowly deteriorate. It just wasn't fair, they'd thought he was okay and then...then there'd been a funny blood test. Three days later and after enough tests to make his head hurt the doctor had appeared with a diagnosis. Sam was dying and there was nothing they could do. They weren't even sure how it had happened, whether he'd already been sick and hadn't realised it or had gotten a bad blood transfusion. Bobby also figured there was a chance he'd gotten it off whatever creature had attacked him after his hunt. They weren't even one hundred percent sure of what he had which was why Bobby was leaning towards creature infection, but the virus looked an awful lot like AIDS. And it was progressing fairly quickly even with the pills Sam had been prescribed. Dying on the hunt was one thing but this? A slow debilitating death from something so small he couldn't see it to fight it? Sam deserved better.
"Hey Sam, you feeling okay?" Bobby asked, watching the young man hover in the doorway. His birthday had passed the week before and Bobby had done everything he could to make it fun, since there was a good chance Sam wouldn't see his twenty-first.
"Not too bad. I...um...." Sam trailed off, hiding his eyes behind his bangs like he'd done as a child.
"What is it Sam?" Bobby stood up, getting more worried and Sam sighed, moving into the room to sit on the couch.
"I need to get out of here Bobby. I can't just sit around and wait for this thing to kill me. It's not you Bobby; you're like a second-father to me. I just, there's so much I wanted to see and now...." Sam trailed off and Bobby nodded. He could see what Sam was getting at. The kid had spent his whole life on the road but had hardly seen anything of America in between hunts. And if this was his last chance.
"I understand Sam. But I want you to call me every day so I know you're okay. And you leave your phone on so I can track the GPS if needed. And you better take all your meds." Bobby gave him a stern glare and Sam smiled, darting in to give him a hug.
"I promise and I'll even send postcards." Sam answered with the first real grin Bobby had seen since the hospital.
"And just cause you're on holiday doesn't mean you can slack off, understand? There's plenty of things out there that would love to say the killed the last Winchester."
"I know. I'll salt and ward every motel room and make sure I have at least a knife on me. I'm twenty not ten."
"When are you leaving?" Bobby asked gruffly, trying to hide his sorrow. He knew if Sam left now he may never see him alive again.
"Saturday. Figure it gives me plenty of time to make sure the car's right and that I've got everything."
Bobby watched Sam pack his last duffle and gripped the envelope in his hand more tightly. If this was all he could do for Sam until it came time to claim his body to salt and burn then he was going to do it.
"Goodbye Bobby." Sam whispered, eyes filled with tears. This time it was Bobby that initiated the hug. Sam clung to him and Bobby let him, they were the only family the other had left anymore.
"You be careful and take this." He pushed the envelope into Sam's hands. Sam opened it and pulled out a full set of new id and papers for the car.
"You've got a record Sam, not too bad a one but still. This gives you the freedom to start fresh." Bobby explained. Sam looked at the name on the licence and smiled, Samuel John Singer. Also in the envelope was all the money Bobby could round up, which when he'd counted it came to a lot more than he'd thought it would. Five grand wouldn't last forever but if Sam was careful it'd last him a while.
"Thanks Uncle Bobby."
"Goodbye son." Sam pulled away and got into the car, waving one last time before driving away. He wiped the tears away and went back inside to down a bottle of whisky. All he could do now was wait for the one call he never wanted to receive.
Dean couldn't help smiling as Alice flitted around him. It wasn't like he was leaving forever but she was sad and yet excited to see him leave. The others were at school but she'd called in sick to say goodbye as he was leaving. Esme was the only other person home and they'd already said goodbye. Carlisle was at the hospital as usual and they'd had a long talk the night before. Carlisle was a bit nervous about Dean leaving the family for his little road trip, he was still very young in vampire terms and had never truly had to test his control alone among humans. But Dean needed to get away for a while.
The last two years had been so hectic that he was desperate to strike out on his own for a while. He didn't blame Edward and Bella like Rosalie seemed to, he understood that relations between species had to be difficult when was capable of literally tearing the other apart with their bare hands. And he was happy that in another year or two he wouldn't be the baby of the family. He hoped Bella's newborn years went as well as his own had. He definitely preferred his current eye colour to the crimson he'd woken with.
"Alice relax, I'm only going to be gone six months, maybe a year. And I'll call all the time." He chided his 'niece'. Since he was physically twenty years old he was playing the part of Carlisle's brother, not one of his children, they simply looked too close in age. And having the same eye colour and skin tone plus both being blondes even if the shades were very different it was a believable lie.
"I know Dean. I just wish you'd make up your mind about where you're going so I can see!" She told him and Dean laughed. That was why he always made up his mind at the last second, it drove Alice crazy and even Edward to a lesser extent. He threw his last bag into the boot and gently shut it, moving to pick Alice up in a bear hug.
"Everything will be fine Pixie. Don't drive Jazz nuts by sulking, okay?" Out of the Cullen's he was closest to Alice and Jasper, Alice was impossible not to love and Jasper, he understood when Dean just needed to be alone.
"Fine." She pouted and dean laughed, swinging her around before putting her down.
"I'll call you with your wedding invite if those two ever make up their minds!" She called as he drove off. He laughed and waved a hand out the window. It would be nice when Bella and Edward finally married and she was turned and he had promised to be back for the wedding no matter what.
Dean smiled slightly as he watched people walking by from his window seat inside the New York Starbucks. He was holding onto a steaming cup of coffee and pretending to drink it, he really missed being able to drink coffee. He missed a lot of things honestly, not that he regretted Carlisle changing him, he'd be dead if the vampire hadn't but still...
He'd done as Carlisle had told him, he'd gone over all his memories as he'd burned for three days straight. They'd all been surprised by how much he still remembered though he'd been warned they would fade over the centuries. He was only missing a few years all up and he didn't think the missing memories were all that important. Though he did kind of wish that his mind hadn't dwelled so much on the events leading up to being bitten so that maybe he could have forgotten them. He could live without hearing the screech of brakes, the tearing of mettle and his parent's frantic screams. They'd been dead when the Cullen's had arrived but Dean had been barely alive, stubbornly clinging to life. Carlisle and Edward had been the ones to pull him from the wreck, the only ones able to fight their bloodlust enough to do so. Alice had apparently been the one who had told Carlisle to bite him, that he was to be their new 'uncle'. He'd spent the first two years in Alaska, learning control and he was happy to say he'd never attacked a human or even been overly tempted to.
Sure he could smell their blood and it smelt so much better than the animals he fed off but to kill someone? To take away someone's son, daughter, parent? He couldn't do that. He couldn't do to them what had been done to him in that accident. If only he hadn't accepted his Dad's offer of a lift home his parents would have been safely at home instead of on the treacherous roads that night. They all told him it wasn't his fault, not even Alice had seen it until they'd driven near the accident, but that didn't stop him feeling guilty.
Sighing he stood up and left the shop, handing the still warm cup to one of the cities many homeless as he wandered the streets. It felt good to be alone with his thoughts and feelings, it could feel suffocating living with an empath and mind reader. Now he had a whole year to be on his own and he was going to prove that he could do it. And there was one place he wanted to go more than any other that he knew the others would not approve of, he was going to go home one last time.
Dean stopped the car well down the street from his parent's old house. He didn't think things had changed much over the last four years. Obviously someone else now lived in his childhood home. Maybe his sister Louise had moved in with her family instead of selling it and that was why he was staying out of sight, he couldn't risk her or her husband Richard seeing him. He doubted little Nicky would recognise him, the kid had been so young then but still, he couldn't chance it.
Once he had the safety of night he slipped up to the house and peered inside, smiling sadly as he realised he'd been right. His sister had kept the house. The house looked much like he remembered only with children's toys scattered about in a way they hadn't been since Louise and him and been small. He wished he could give them something but he couldn't. He pulled back as Nicky ran by the window, laughing as Richard chased him and then smiled as he saw his sister with a small bundle in her arms.
"Nicky come say goodnight to your brother." Louise called, the window no problem for his vampire hearing.
"Night Dean." The boy said as he kissed the baby on the cheek and Dean bit back a dry sob. Dean, they'd named the baby after him. Shaking his head he forced himself to walk away, to go back to his car and drive away no matter how much it hurt. He was actually surprised Alice hadn't seen what he'd done and called. He drove down the streets until he reached a poorer area of town and smiled as he pulled up in front of a familiar house. One where he'd once played as a teen with a younger boy. They'd had one summer of fun and then he'd never seen him again. He only hoped the kid had led a longer life than he had. He kept driving for a while only to slow to a stop as he pulled up behind a car he would recognise anywhere, even after all this time. The plates were still the same though the car was obviously older but well cared for. He frowned as he listened and then he got out and moved quickly to the driver's door.
Curled up on the front seat was a young man, unconscious and too pale to be healthy. He opened the door slowly, not wanting him to fall out once the support was removed, and managed to catch the driver before he could slip out. Shaking fingers pushed back sweat dampened brown hair and Dean swallowed hard.