Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Sam or Dean. The character of Tobius Le Salle is owned by Skag Trendy. I'm just playing with them.
Author's Note: This is an alternative take on Skag Trendy's wonderful' 'Shades of Night' universe. Things in parentheses are taken straight from 'Hunter of the Shadows'. This starts when Tobius takes Dean to get Sam (I don't remember the chapter number).
Sam grunted as he limped into the alley beside the run down motel he and his dad were staying in, dragging the garbage from their room was hard since his arms hurt and he was weak from not eating for a week, but he knew that if the room wasn't tidied up to his dad's standards, he'd be facing something a lot worse than hunger and sore limbs.
He'd opened the nearest can lid and begun pouring in the little trash that he and John generated when he sensed someone behind him, then he heard the voice he'd been longing to hear for six months.
"Hey, Kiddo, long time, no see."
Sam snapped his head up, hoping and praying that the voice he was hearing wasn't a hunger induced hallucination. Sure enough, there was Dean, looking the same way he had the night he'd had to run for his life from their own father after being turned by what Sam was still convinced was a non-lunar werewolf. The sight of his older brother broke through the numbness that had enveloped Sam over the past six months.
He launched himself at his brother, wrapping his arms around his brother's waist, tears of relief streaming down his face.
"I can't believe you're here. Thought I'd never see you again." Sam whimpered into his brother's shirt, breathing in the scent of gun oil and leather that he always associated with his brother and that never failed to make him feel safe.
Dean held him for awhile before pulling away and grasped Sam's face in his hands and examining him. Sam knew what he'd see, a face covered in bruises and cuts, a nose broken and allowed to heal crooked after a bad hunt and a bottle of Jose Gold and a scar from being slashed with a hunting knife trying to get Dad into bed after two bottles of Captain Morgan.
Looking into Dean's eyes, Sam could see the questions that Sam didn't want to answer turning into horrified realization. Before he could say anything to convince his brother that what had happened to him was justified, Dean grabbed his hand.
"C'mon, you're coming with me," and began leading to where a non-descript brown car was waiting with an older man standing beside it.
Sam hesitated, torn between jubilation at being with Dean again and obligation to stay with his dad.
"What about Dad? I can't just-" He hated to think what John would do if he came back and found him gone.
"I'lldeal with Dad later," Dean said with grim determination. "Right now, we need to get you out of here and to someplace safe."
"But my stuff-" There wasn't much, just some threadbare clothing, his laptop and the few books that had survived one of John's rages, but they were all he had and he didn't want them getting damaged.
Dean sighed, "We'll come back for it later, I promise." He bundled Sam into the back of the car and climbed in after him.
As the car pulled away, Sam snuggled into Dean's side, comforted by the feeling of being with his brother again. The last thing he remembered was Dean wrapping an arm around him and feeling Dean's fingers card through his hair.
When Sam woke up, he was surprised to find himself in a very nice hotel room, tucked into a small bed. He carefully rolled over and wasn't surprised to see Dean sitting next to him. His brother smiled at seeing him.
"Welcome back, Sammy," Dean said with his trademark smile.
Sam sat up awkwardly and looked around, "Where are we?"
Dean smirked, "The suite in the hotel that Tobius owns. Pretty sweet."
Sam frowned, "Tobius?"
Dean looked sheepish, "Tobius is my sire."
Sam nodded, "Oh." He knew from research that a sire was another term for a father and he wondered what had happened to Dean over the past six months to cause him to join forces with the wolf who'd turned him.
Even after six months apart, Dean could still read Sam, "I'll explain everything later, Sammy. Right now, it's time for dinner and I know you're hungry."
At the mention of food, Sam's long neglected stomach growled hopefully and Dean smiled softly, "C'mon."
Sam tried to roll out of bed, but his bad leg and injured arms made moving difficult, Dean scooped him up and helped him out of bed.
"Can you walk okay?" Dean's face was the picture of concern.
Sam nodded as he struggled to gain his balance, "Yeah, it's just that I sometimes have trouble keeping my balance." He wanted to avoid the subject of his bad leg for as long as possible.
Dean's expression didn't change but his eyes showed a cold fury that made Sam more than a little nervous but before he could say anything to appease his brother, Dean took his arm, "C'mon, I'll help you." He slung Sam's nearest arm over his shoulder and together they moved slowly out of the bedroom into the living room area, Dean's aid keeping Sam from having to put too much weight on his bad leg.
Dean helped him through the very nice living room and to a dining room area where an older man was setting the table.
"Here he is, Tobius, all awake and ready to go," Dean said with a smile as he helped Sam to a chair.
Tobius smiled as he set down the final piece of tableware, "I see that. I'm glad to see you finally awake, Sam, we were starting to worry."
Sam smiled back, instantly feeling at ease in the man's presence. Tobius reminded him of Uncle Bobby and Pastor Jim, someone who was very tough but also very gentle.
They sat down and Sam's eyes widened to see more food than he'd ever seen: steaks, mashed potatoes with cheddar cheese, carrots, green beans and bread that smelled fresh along with a glass of wine. Sam gulped wondering if he'd be able to eat any of it since he hadn't eaten in a week.
"Eat slowly, Sam, I wouldn't want to see all this come back up," Tobius said gently with a smile. Sam smiled back and began to slowly cut into the steak.
Eating with two badly set arms was easier said than done; because Sam's broken arms had never been set, the muscles weren't laying the way they were supposed to and it made doing anything delicate like cutting meat into small pieces difficult, not to mention painful. He struggled with the knife and fork for a few minutes before a pair of hands took the utensils from him.
"Here, let me help," Dean said softly, cutting the meat for him before handing him the fork, "Can you get the food into your mouth or…"
Sam swallowed back his immediate reaction, which was to ask for some help. "I think I got it." He picked up the fork and began spearing at the food in front of him.
The whole thing was slow going and by the time he was done, most of the food was cold and his arms ached, but he was proud of himself for getting through the meal as well as he had. When he looked up from his plate, he could see Dean and Tobius watching him with concern in their eyes, but neither said anything.
After the dishes were cleared away and cleaned, the three of them made their way into the living room and sat for a little while before Tobius spoke, "Sam, your brother and I were talking while you were resting, and I would like to take you to a doctor friend of mine to see about getting your injuries healed."
Sam frowned at the casual tone, then realized that neither Dean nor Tobius had asked him why he was having trouble getting around or handling a knife and fork. He glanced down and saw that he was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, not the threadbare jeans and shirts he'd been wearing, he glanced around the room and saw his belongings resting against the end of the couch. "You went to see Dad?" Considering that their dad thought Dean was dead, he hated to think what the man thought at seeing his supposedly dead son walking through the door.
Dean nodded, "Yeah, but we didn't talk." At Sam's confused frown, he sighed, "Sammy, I need to tell you something, but you gotta promise to not freak out."
Sam frowned in confusion but nodded and Dean took a deep breath, "Dad's dead, Sammy. I-"
At the words 'Dad's dead', Sam jerked away from his brother in horror, "Dean-"
"Hey, calm down," Dean said firmly, getting a firm but gentle grip on Sam's shoulders. "Sam! Sammy, I swear to you on Mom's grave that I didn't do anything to Dad, he was dead when I got there. I even tried to do CPR, but he was already getting cold."
Sam stared at his brother for a long moment, searching the green eyes he knew so well for any sign of deceit, but only saw pain and regret. "How?"
Even after six months apart, Dean could still understand him, "I'm not sure, but just judging by the number of bottles in the room and the smell coming off him, I'd say that his liver gave out, there was a half-empty bottle of José Gold still in his hand and at least two full ones on the table."
Sam sat there for several long minutes trying to process the conflicting emotions coursing through him. On the one hand, he wanted to grieve for the father he'd loved so much, despite the physical and mental abuse, and had so wanted to please; but on the other hand, he was happy to finally be free of the nightmarish figure his father had become, his heart decided to grieve for the father he'd loved instead of the monster he'd feared.
"Hey," Dean said softly, wrapping a gentle arm around Sam's shoulders, "It's going to be okay, Sammy, I promise. You're going to get better and we'll get through this."
Sam frowned, "You're not going to turn me?" He wasn't sure why but somehow, he'd thought that Dean would turn him into a wolf like himself.
"You'll only be turned if you want to be turned," Tobius said softly. "But it won't be right now. You're very malnourished and I'm not sure how being turned will affect your injuries."
Sam nodded, letting himself relax against Dean who wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
"Now, as I was saying," Tobius said with a soft smile, "I have a doctor friend in town and I've called to see about taking Sam in to see about healing his injuries. He won't be able to do anything right away due to Sam being so malnourished, but I want to get an idea of what he's going to do when you're healthy enough."
Sam frowned, "What about CPS?"
Tobius smiled kindly, "I've explained your situation to him, and he has assured me that this will be completely confidential."
The rest of the night was spent talking, Tobius regaled them with stories of his youth and adventures as a wolf and all the famous people he'd met along the way." Sam dozed off at some point in Tobius's tale about meeting Marie Antoinette. He vaguely heard Dean and Tobius talking and chuckling before Sam felt himself being scooped up and carried. He fell asleep very quickly, feeling safe and warm for the first time since Dean had been turned.