"What makes us human" (supernatural)
Title: What makes us human (Chapter 1/?)
Fandom(s): Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester. Dean Winchester.
Pairing(s): Gen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A teenchester story. AU. Dean is 16 and Sam 12 at the beginning.
Another town, another school. All normal for the Winchesters, until the night everything changes: the night Sam got taken. Then all hell breaks loose.
Genre: Angst. Hurt/Comfort.
Warnings: Torture. Child abuse. Self-harm. Depression.
~
What makes us human
“Anyway, it doesn't matter how much, how often, or how closely you keep an eye on things because you can't control it. Sometimes things and people just go. Just like that.”
Cecelia Ahern
They were staying in Detroit, Michigan, in another crappy motel room, waiting for their dad to return. Sam and Dean were going to a school where he had enrolled them a few days earlier. Pretending to be normal, training after school- the usual for the Winchesters boys. At one exception: Sammy was acting strange. Stranger than usual that is. He was quiet, moody, and seemed to be a little bit freaked. Now the moody part, Dean understood- after all, Sam was almost starting his teenager years. But the freaked part, well, that one was new. It was kinda obvious that something was bothering the kid. Obvious to Dean, at least. So when they were getting ready to eat one night, nearly a week after they'd arrived, Dean wasn't entirely surprise when Sam started asking questions, followed by a weird request.
“You thing Dad is coming back soon?” Typical Sam.
“You know I don't know that Sammy.”
“Yeah, but I just don't really like that city.”
Something was off here, because Sam normally hated the moving. He'd always been glad whenever their dad needed more time to do a job, as it gave him more time to make friends, to be normal.
“Someone's giving trouble at school?”
Not that Dean thought this was the case, Sam seemed to like this school.
“No, I just, I don't know, I've got a bad feeling about this town.”
A bad feeling? That could mean a million things. Of course it was up to Dean to find out, because their dad wasn't here, and okay Dean was used to taking care of things, and he didn't mind, most of the time, but really it would be nice sometimes to know that he wasn't so alone in this.
“Don't worry Sammy, Dad checked it. Nothing's wrong here.”
That didn't seem to appease his brother a bit.
“Maybe we could just go, find another motel, somewhere else. I don't care where, you can even pick the place, just as long as we get out of here.”
Now that got Dean's attention. Sam sounded really scared, and desperate. Looking at him with those puppy eyes- the traitor- tucking anxiously at his sleeves and waiting for Dean to make it all better. If these decisions were only his to make, he would have probably gathered their things and hightailed it the hell out of here if his brother wanted it so badly. Over the years he had learned to trust Sam's instincts, except their dad had given them direct orders. Stay put, wait for me. Unless there was a real danger here, Dean couldn't disobeyed an order. It just wasn't in his nature.
“Sam we can't just pack and leave! Come on, you know Dad told us to wait for him right here. That's what we're gonna do, period.”
Ouch, just ouch. The look Sammy was giving him was seriously kicking him down. But he couldn't back down.
“Dude, unless you've got a real reason we have to stay put.”
Sometimes he sucked at being a big brother.
“Please Dean, please, just trust me on this one. Something bad is gonna happen- I just,... I can feel it.”
He had to fix this, he had to. He couldn't just turn Sam off if he seemed so eager to go.
“Okay, what about this: we stay here tonight, cause it's almost nine and too late to do anything now. But, if by tomorrow you still got this bad feeling stuff going on, I'll call dad and ask him if we can go, okay?”
There was so many things wrong with this plan, because once morning came and Dean called John, even if he did answer- and that was a huge If- he wasn't gonna give them the clear to pack and wait in another town. Dean knew that. Hell, even Sam knew that. Sam also knew that if John said no, then Dean wasn't going to disobey.
“Yeah, whatever. I'm not hungry. I'm gonna go to bed early, 'm tired.”
Dean was eating alone tonight then.
When it was time to go and join Sammy to sleep, Dean was extra careful that night, checking the salt lines three times, locking the doors and windows, and making sure the gun he placed under his pillow was clean and ready to fire, just in case. He couldn't please his brother by moving out, but he sure as hell could make sure that nothing got past him and hurt the little guy. By the time he was finally ready to go to bed, he knew that Sam wasn't sleeping yet.
“Goodnight Sammy.”
The sound of someone settling in bed could be heard, a cover being put over someone's head, and then the words:
“Goodnight Dean.”
Maybe Dean didn't entirely suck at being a big brother.
Neither of them knew it then, but this would be the last conversion between them for a long time.
Something's wrong. That was the first thing that came to Dean's mind as he was awakened in the cold, dark room. He reached for the shotgun under his pillow out of reflex, and practice. Then turned to his brother. Sammy seemed to be sleeping peacefully, finally settled, and Dean could relax and breathe again. After checking the room for possible danger he went back to sleep, reassured that he'd just been paranoid and that it had been a stupid nightmare he probably won't even remember by morning that had woken him. After what seemed to be only a few minutes, but could have been hours actually, he was abruptly awakened again, but this times it was because of a soft but frightened plea that echoed thought the dark room. Sam. “Dean, help!”
The words were simple, short, not screamed, almost whispered, but it was plenty enough to have Dean awake. He reached for his gun again, and turned to see what was wrong. There really wasn't time to do anything, because when he looked by his brother's bed, he saw him being somehow dragged away by a man. A strange looking, creepy, yellow eyed man, who was trying to get a hold of his brother to take him god knows where and do god knows what. Dean fired the gun, which didn't have any effect, except to piss the guy, monster, off, and in a switch of a hand, Dean was up against the wall, unable to move, unable to speak, and unable to save his brother. That was when things got really ugly, really fast. Sam was trying to get free: kicking, punching, pulling, yelling, even biting. But even though he was a tough kid- being Dean's kid brother and all- he was still twelve, only twelve, and caught off guard, with no real useful weapon against a monster twice his size who was capable of some nasty mojo on top of everything else. And even if Sam was still very capable, and managed to punch the thing hard a few times, the end result really wasn't a surprise when the monster- the soon to be dead son a bitch as soon as Dean got his hands on him- landed an unforgivable kick to the kid's head, knocking him unconscious for a few seconds, enough time for the creep to tie up Sam's hands with rope, and tape his mouth shut with duct tape. Which Dean found very odd considering that this monster had had no problem shutting his mouth with his freaking mind. He couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as Sam was taken away. His little brother glanced at him one last time, before disappearing from his view, carried by a creature who'd just shattered Dean's life, and all the Winchesters, in the three small minutes that the struggle had lasted. Dean was left pressed against the wall, still trapped, with only one mantra in his head: Sam is gone, Sam is gone, Sam is gone.
TBC...
Read Chapter Two here: http://frenchie93.livejournal.com/1804.html
Fandom(s): Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester. Dean Winchester.
Pairing(s): Gen
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A teenchester story. AU. Dean is 16 and Sam 12 at the beginning.
Another town, another school. All normal for the Winchesters, until the night everything changes: the night Sam got taken. Then all hell breaks loose.
Genre: Angst. Hurt/Comfort.
Warnings: Torture. Child abuse. Self-harm. Depression.
~
What makes us human
“Anyway, it doesn't matter how much, how often, or how closely you keep an eye on things because you can't control it. Sometimes things and people just go. Just like that.”
Cecelia Ahern
They were staying in Detroit, Michigan, in another crappy motel room, waiting for their dad to return. Sam and Dean were going to a school where he had enrolled them a few days earlier. Pretending to be normal, training after school- the usual for the Winchesters boys. At one exception: Sammy was acting strange. Stranger than usual that is. He was quiet, moody, and seemed to be a little bit freaked. Now the moody part, Dean understood- after all, Sam was almost starting his teenager years. But the freaked part, well, that one was new. It was kinda obvious that something was bothering the kid. Obvious to Dean, at least. So when they were getting ready to eat one night, nearly a week after they'd arrived, Dean wasn't entirely surprise when Sam started asking questions, followed by a weird request.
“You thing Dad is coming back soon?” Typical Sam.
“You know I don't know that Sammy.”
“Yeah, but I just don't really like that city.”
Something was off here, because Sam normally hated the moving. He'd always been glad whenever their dad needed more time to do a job, as it gave him more time to make friends, to be normal.
“Someone's giving trouble at school?”
Not that Dean thought this was the case, Sam seemed to like this school.
“No, I just, I don't know, I've got a bad feeling about this town.”
A bad feeling? That could mean a million things. Of course it was up to Dean to find out, because their dad wasn't here, and okay Dean was used to taking care of things, and he didn't mind, most of the time, but really it would be nice sometimes to know that he wasn't so alone in this.
“Don't worry Sammy, Dad checked it. Nothing's wrong here.”
That didn't seem to appease his brother a bit.
“Maybe we could just go, find another motel, somewhere else. I don't care where, you can even pick the place, just as long as we get out of here.”
Now that got Dean's attention. Sam sounded really scared, and desperate. Looking at him with those puppy eyes- the traitor- tucking anxiously at his sleeves and waiting for Dean to make it all better. If these decisions were only his to make, he would have probably gathered their things and hightailed it the hell out of here if his brother wanted it so badly. Over the years he had learned to trust Sam's instincts, except their dad had given them direct orders. Stay put, wait for me. Unless there was a real danger here, Dean couldn't disobeyed an order. It just wasn't in his nature.
“Sam we can't just pack and leave! Come on, you know Dad told us to wait for him right here. That's what we're gonna do, period.”
Ouch, just ouch. The look Sammy was giving him was seriously kicking him down. But he couldn't back down.
“Dude, unless you've got a real reason we have to stay put.”
Sometimes he sucked at being a big brother.
“Please Dean, please, just trust me on this one. Something bad is gonna happen- I just,... I can feel it.”
He had to fix this, he had to. He couldn't just turn Sam off if he seemed so eager to go.
“Okay, what about this: we stay here tonight, cause it's almost nine and too late to do anything now. But, if by tomorrow you still got this bad feeling stuff going on, I'll call dad and ask him if we can go, okay?”
There was so many things wrong with this plan, because once morning came and Dean called John, even if he did answer- and that was a huge If- he wasn't gonna give them the clear to pack and wait in another town. Dean knew that. Hell, even Sam knew that. Sam also knew that if John said no, then Dean wasn't going to disobey.
“Yeah, whatever. I'm not hungry. I'm gonna go to bed early, 'm tired.”
Dean was eating alone tonight then.
When it was time to go and join Sammy to sleep, Dean was extra careful that night, checking the salt lines three times, locking the doors and windows, and making sure the gun he placed under his pillow was clean and ready to fire, just in case. He couldn't please his brother by moving out, but he sure as hell could make sure that nothing got past him and hurt the little guy. By the time he was finally ready to go to bed, he knew that Sam wasn't sleeping yet.
“Goodnight Sammy.”
The sound of someone settling in bed could be heard, a cover being put over someone's head, and then the words:
“Goodnight Dean.”
Maybe Dean didn't entirely suck at being a big brother.
Neither of them knew it then, but this would be the last conversion between them for a long time.
Something's wrong. That was the first thing that came to Dean's mind as he was awakened in the cold, dark room. He reached for the shotgun under his pillow out of reflex, and practice. Then turned to his brother. Sammy seemed to be sleeping peacefully, finally settled, and Dean could relax and breathe again. After checking the room for possible danger he went back to sleep, reassured that he'd just been paranoid and that it had been a stupid nightmare he probably won't even remember by morning that had woken him. After what seemed to be only a few minutes, but could have been hours actually, he was abruptly awakened again, but this times it was because of a soft but frightened plea that echoed thought the dark room. Sam. “Dean, help!”
The words were simple, short, not screamed, almost whispered, but it was plenty enough to have Dean awake. He reached for his gun again, and turned to see what was wrong. There really wasn't time to do anything, because when he looked by his brother's bed, he saw him being somehow dragged away by a man. A strange looking, creepy, yellow eyed man, who was trying to get a hold of his brother to take him god knows where and do god knows what. Dean fired the gun, which didn't have any effect, except to piss the guy, monster, off, and in a switch of a hand, Dean was up against the wall, unable to move, unable to speak, and unable to save his brother. That was when things got really ugly, really fast. Sam was trying to get free: kicking, punching, pulling, yelling, even biting. But even though he was a tough kid- being Dean's kid brother and all- he was still twelve, only twelve, and caught off guard, with no real useful weapon against a monster twice his size who was capable of some nasty mojo on top of everything else. And even if Sam was still very capable, and managed to punch the thing hard a few times, the end result really wasn't a surprise when the monster- the soon to be dead son a bitch as soon as Dean got his hands on him- landed an unforgivable kick to the kid's head, knocking him unconscious for a few seconds, enough time for the creep to tie up Sam's hands with rope, and tape his mouth shut with duct tape. Which Dean found very odd considering that this monster had had no problem shutting his mouth with his freaking mind. He couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as Sam was taken away. His little brother glanced at him one last time, before disappearing from his view, carried by a creature who'd just shattered Dean's life, and all the Winchesters, in the three small minutes that the struggle had lasted. Dean was left pressed against the wall, still trapped, with only one mantra in his head: Sam is gone, Sam is gone, Sam is gone.
TBC...
Read Chapter Two here: http://frenchie93.livejournal.com/1804.html