Shadows 10
A/N: Hey, guys! Here's the new chapter as promised ^^
- Sam -
John was talking to Dean, and Dean obeyed. He nodded or shook his head, or just looked at John, but he didn't utter a single word. Then small Sammy came, and Dean suddenly talked to him, but only if dad was in a safe distance, not when he was right next to them. John kept shooting his son first irritated then worried glances, but he let it go. Like always, he let it go.
The little talk never came.
Sam's heart ached, and he thought 'Skip!' and 'On!' and 'Out!' but the memory changed before he could know if it was him or not who had directed it.
In the following memory, Dean sat on the top of the stairs in Bobby's house, hidden away from the view, listening to his father and Bobby arguing in the living room.
“-talks to Sam alright. It's like he's seven again! He's fucking sixteen! A grown man, and he can't talk to his father?”
Castiel went up the stairs, ears perched up to hear the argument but focused more on Dean. The wood held his weight without a problem. Like they were here for real. Except if it was real, the wood would creak under the angel's boots, like it had done countless times beneath Sam's.
Cas crouched down on the stairs under Dean, watching him. He reached out his hand and held it over Dean's cheek. From Sam's point of view, it looked like Cas was touching him. But Dean's eyes remained unfocused, gazing into the distance. He worried his bottom lip, making it red and puffy, as he listened to his father's loud, angry voice.
“I had to go into his school, Bobby! His teacher interrogated me like I'm some abusive asshole. I can be glad that we moved sooner before she had a freaking child service after my ass!”
“Dean, can you hear me?” Cas whispered softly, that Sam almost hadn't heard him over John's booming voice.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to communicate.”
Sam looked at Benny. The vampire shrugged. He didn't have any idea what Cas was doing either.
“Did you try asking Dean what's going on with him?” Bobby interrupted John.
“Of course I did!”
“Oh? And were you this calm too?”
“Bobby,” John warned.
“You know my opinion on how you raise those boys, so I ain't gonna bother you by giving directions from 'How to parent your child'. All I want is that you take that boy out and you talk to him like equals. Because you're right. This ain't normal, but that only means that something went wrong at some point, and you need to find out and fix it.”
“There's nothing to fix,” John hissed, damn him. “Dean's perfectly fine. He's just having some phase, and all I need is to get over it.”
Sam tried to skip the memory desperately. In this moment he hated John with the same certainty and potency as he had when he was a kid. He needed to get rid of the feeling. After their dad had died, whenever Sam would think about the man, he'd try to remember him in the better light and forget his faults, because everyone had some. Not that it worked perfectly, Sam held memories within him that were too bitter, words too cruel to simply forget, but there were parts of the life alongside their father which had been good enough to soothe his resentment some.
He was afraid that after listening to John convincing himself further of this delusion (because otherwise would mean he'd failed as a father), Sam wouldn't be able to recall any of the good bits ever again.
So Sam tried to fast-forward, but the flow of the memory didn't quicken. It remained the same torturously sluggish river with all the time in the world, no reason to hurry at all.
“Dean let it slip that he'd nearly died once and his old man never showed,” Benny said out of nowhere.
Sam grimaced. Just when he was trying to save the small untarnished segment of his recollection of dad.
“John Winchester did his penance,” Cas muttered, hand still hovering over Dean's cheek, eyes never leaving the boy.
What? Did it mean that Cas had met dad in Heaven? Was it possible? It should be. Why had the thought of the angel visiting their dad's soul had never occurred to him?
“Seriously, man, what are you doin'?” Benny asked, frowning.
Cas sighed and lowered his hand. He descended the stairs back to them. “I attempted to communicate with Dean. See if his presence is somewhere here with us.”
“How?”
“We share a bond.”
Sam smirked, remembering Dean's freaking out about it. “A profound bond.”
Cas shot him an icy look. “It's indeed a profound bond, Sam. Don't lighten it.”
Sam arched his eyebrow, taken aback by the vehemence behind the words. It made him want to apologize, which was ridiculous, because Dean had made fun of it more times than Sam, and Cas had never been mean to him, only showing Dean his best disapproving glare; narrowed eyes, mouth in a thin line and all that.
"Fine, dude. Sorry. Whatever. How will it help if you can communicate with my brother, anyway? You refuse to wake him up, so I don't exactly see the point." If Sam sounded a little annoyed with Castiel, it was because he was, and he wanted the angel to know it.
"It is different."
Cas recognized the annoyance alright because he didn't elaborate, letting Sam work for the answer and being purposely difficult.
Sam crossed his arms over the chest. Two could play the game.
Benny rolled his eyes. Playing the peacemaker for once, he asked instead of Sam, "How?"
Castiel took his time to answer. "If I wake him up in the real world, he won't have any chance to recuperate. I won't throw him into a dangerous situation without a clear head. If I make a connection now, I can... prepare him. Or even... I'm not sure, but I might be able to wake him up from here, even."
Sam pursed his lips. "And if you push Dean from here to wake him up-"
"With the main source of the memories gone, we will wake up as well."
"And we can take the witch by surprise," Benny finished.
John's loud voice rose even higher, drowning their conversation. "-you to talk to him when you seem to know everything!"
"I'm not those boys' dad. You are! So get your head outta your ass for once and-"
Dean seemed to have had enough. He stood up and headed for the door. They stepped aside so he wouldn't run through their bodies. The memory changed when the door closed quietly behind Dean's back.
...
Appearing on abandoned factory grounds at sunset, the last faint rays of orange light illuminated a group of teenagers, hidden away from view between the concrete walls and a rusted high metal fence with holes to fit a whole body through without problems. The kids were drunk, wobbling on unsteady feet and laughing twice as hard than they would in a sober state. A dark haired boy lay sprawled on the pavement, obviously out of it, and a girl was poking into his ribs, giggling when he grunted and slurred indecipherable words at her.
Dean was smoking, leaning against the fence, getting groped by a pretty redhead that looked vaguely familiar. Sam’s eyes narrowed at the display. He’d never seen his Dean smoking. Sure, he’d suspected-Dean didn’t sometimes even bother to cover the lingering stink on his clothes-but it was one thing to suspect and entirely another one to see.
The night was dark and it was hard to say how much time had gone between the two memories, but Dean looked to be approximately the same age. And from the looks of it, he still wasn't talking. Lips curving around the cigarette, he seemed content to just watch his 'friends' and let the girl talk his ear off.
“The memories seem to flick quicker,” Cas noted.
Good, Sam thought. Maybe they would get out soon, after all.
This game, as the witch had called it, seemed to have no rules and the memories just kept on piling. It was impossible to say how much time had passed in the real word. Was Crowley on his way? Was he already in the warehouse, deciding the best way to kill or torture them?
“Dean had this phase…” Sam said, just for the sake of it. To pass the time. To do something other than stand here. “Just a couple of months… He-he would skip school, stay late outside, fight more often than not… He was snappy at me and seemed angry all the time. He'd never talk to dad. I thought he was just ignoring him...”
Sam often wondered if he imagined that. Now he knew it had happened and Dean hadn't really talked to dad at that time. Now he knew the why's and when's, and he wasn't sure if it was better than being kept in the dark. His head was spinning with guilt and anger. At everyone, even himself. More so at himself.
Dean took last long drag and grinded the cigarette out, leaning closer to the girl. She whispered in his ear and Dean smiled. The girl's arm sneaked around his neck and tugged him down.
Sam watched the easy interaction of their bodies. He’d never been able to relax much in a girl's presence as a teenager. He would blush, stutter and make stupid compliments that in the end somehow miraculously worked. Dean had always been different. Flirting was a second nature to him, and sometimes it was as if he didn’t even need to try. What he did was smile, and the girls would fight over themselves to get to him first. Sam had looked up to Dean as a kid, became jealous in his teens before finally inventing and learning some tricks of his own.
A boy divided from the group and approached the pair. He neared behind Dean’s back so only the girl saw him coming. Catching the boy’s eyes, she winked and, while still embracing Dean and whispering in his ear, her other hand reached out for the boy, who grinned and entwined their fingers together, inching forward. He laid his other palm on Dean’s hip, gently as if not to spook him.
It didn’t work.
Dean flinched so hard that the boy had to take a step back or Dean’s head would sock him in the jaw. Clenching his hand in a fist, Dean turned halfway around to get a glimpse of the intruder, but the girl stopped him with a sweet, innocent smile and fingers running through Dean’s hair. “Shh… it’s okay. Tony just wants to join the fun, right, Tone?”
The boy's mouth morphed into a lecherous smile.
Dean stared at the girl for a long time. He was numb from the alcohol, his eyes glazed, and the girl’s caressing fingers slipping lower and lower had to be distracting. The girl pressed closer, breathing in his ear. “It’s nothing wrong. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.” She rubbed herself against his crotch. “We’re gonna enjoy this. Together.” She nipped at his earlobe, beckoning to the boy, and he started toward the pair again.
Never breaking eye contact and the spell of the moment, the girl took out a small packet from the back-pocket of her jeans. Popping out two pills, she swallowed them, licking her lips. Dean traced the movement with his eyes. Tony ran a calming hand up and down Dean’s back. Dean let him. “Two for me…” The girl placed another two pills on her tongue. “Two for you.”
Dean hesitated but when she brought his mouth to hers, he complied, hands roving over her body as she arched into him. And when the boy pressed fully against his back, covering him all, Dean tensed but stayed. He let them do what they wanted to.
Sam turned his back to the scene.
“Alright,” Benny drawled, all southern accent. “Someone please direct the angel the other way.”
Castiel was watching the display with a tilted head and a strange gleam in his eyes. Sam cleared his throat to draw the angel's attention to himself, still annoyed with him and his higher freaking ground.
“Cas, this is my underage brother drinking, smoking, still not talking, getting himself drugged and too out of it to consent,” Sam said. “What the hell are you tilting your head at?”
Cas at least had the decency to look sheepish.
Sam ran a hand over his face. He tried to fast forward the memory.
And their surroundings changed.
...
“Why does it work now?” snapped Sam, as soon as the new surroundings materialized around them. They were in a diner, in front of a red booth where Dean, Sam and John sat at.
“That was you?”
Sam nodded to Benny in confirmation.
“Maybe we need to learn the context of the memory before it's possible to move on?” Cas offered.
"That's insane!"
“But makes sense,” Benny agreed with Cas.
“I'm sick of this. Even if it has some sort of weird twisted rules, we still can't get out of here, and Crowley can be in the warehouse already! And even if we get out, you say you won't wake Dean up, and sorry, but your 'communicating' didn't work, and I'm not magically capable of Copperfielding out of the shackles myself!”
Christ, his head pounded like there were drums build in his brain.
“I'd say I feel you, but you kind of brought this on us yourself,” Benny remarked.
Sam gritted his teeth. He damn well knew it was his fault, and he'd stay through every swing Dean was going to throw at him later when they're safe, but he didn't need to be reminded of his screw up now, again and again, and by this vampire. If Benny just laid off his case for a damn minute.
"You were the reasonable one a moment ago. What the hell happened?" he snapped.
“Now is not the time to argue.” Cas stopped the fight before it could begin. Again. Sam was kind of thankful for it. This was tiring as it was. Arguments would just mess with them all the more.
A petite brunette waitress arrived to the booth. Sam stepped aside, so she wouldn't go through his body. She took orders from dad and small Sam. Dean smiled charmingly at her but instead of saying his order aloud, he pointed it out on the menu. John's jaw clenched, displeased with his son's silence.
Other than that, they all seemed to be in a good mood. Sammy started telling them about his literature class and all the books he needed to read, but dad didn't seem too pleased with the course of the conversation, and he asked, “So, anything happened while I was gone?”
Dean kept his eyes on the table.
Sammy shrugged. “Nothing really. Though Dean met a girl.” He grinned when Dean glared daggers and kicked him under the table.
John smiled. “Really, Dean? That's great. What's she like?”
Sammy jumped eagerly in. “She's really pretty, dad. Beautiful. Natural red hair! I've never seen that. And she's smart. She likes the same books as me. Even let me borrow some. And she can speak French, right Dean? She's awesome, right? Tell dad, Dean.”
Dean glanced at John, fidgeting in his seat. He blinked several times and looked over the diner, as if looking for the nearest exit.
“Come on, Dean, tell him,” Sammy pressed.
Dean's eyes settled on his brother. He cleared his throat and smiled shakily. He rubbed his hands under the table as they started tremble a bit. “Sh-she is smart. Even our brainiac can't keep up with her.”
John's mouth opened in surprise. “That's-that's great, son.”
“I keep up with her alright, thank you very much,” Sammy pouted.
Sam groaned out loud. He'd been so damn oblivious, stupid, when he was a kid.
He didn't have the time to dwell on it much, though. The memory switched for a new one, again on its own.
...
The next memory was short, but thank God left Sam with a small smile on his lips instead of dread filling his insides. He even remembered this one. He and Dean were practicing shooting with John in a forest. Dad was awesome, like a hero, hitting all cans at the first try. He was patient with them too, in a good mood for once. He told them stories and they laughed, but most importantly, Dean talked to both of them, although with reserve to dad.
Then Sammy got assigned to take the guns to the truck, and when he was out of sight, John held out his hand expectantly, palm up, staring Dean down.
Dean raised an eyebrow, obviously not getting it, but when dad's eyes flickered down to the pocket of Dean's baggy jeans, Dean's eyes widened. His hand twitched toward the pocket. He took out a pack of cigarettes and handed it to John.
All dad said was that he expected Dean not to disappoint him, and just like that Sam knew that from now on Dean would never smoke again.
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)
chapter nine
chapter eleven