Forged by Fire 1/?
Title: Forged by Fire
Author: mlebayre
Genre: General
Characters/Pairings: No Pairings, Dean and Sam, some other folks.
Rating: R
Spoilers: This is an AU. I've taken canon and events from all seasons, but they are more references than spoilers.
Notes: In this verse Sam never dies, so Dean never makes his deal.
Summary: Apparent mistaken identity lands Sam in prison, leaving Dean on the outside struggling to free his brother. Prison isn't a good place for a hunter especially when not all the inmates are human. Locked in a cage, Sam clings to the edge of sanity and discovers Abaddon has a fan. Next in the Two Souls Verse.
Series: Two Souls Verse
Disclaimer: Not ours,just borrowing from Kripke.
Many thanks to sendintheklowns who was my winning bidder at Kazcon 2009. She asked for another fic in the Two Souls Verse and Sam in prison. What a great idea! Thank you to my wonderful betas, Anickamarie, deej1957 and ajcaddick. Amazing art by thruterryseyes and the incredible vid is by kumaproogey thank you so much to both of you! Thank you silverruffian for all her help with research.
Two souls bonded through eternity.
Without one there truly would not be the other.
Two souls bound together forged by fire into a brotherhood of men.
There were bad days and then there were bad days.
Stepping away from the coffee shop, Dean tightened his grip on the cardboard cups. He’d already repurchased Sam’s coffee after spilling it on the way out the first time. It hadn’t actually been his fault, the wind had caught the door and someone watching a flurry of activity across and down the street, someone who wasn’t paying attention, was nearly smacked full force with the errant door.
Dean had saved the pedestrian, but in the process lost the coffee. Showing up without Sam’s coffee would be worse than facing off an entire pack of rabid werewolves and twice as deadly. So, Dean went back in for more coffee.
Stopping a second attack by the door with his foot, Dean kept careful hold on the cups and headed down the street. When he finally caught sight of what was going on that had so many people so interested Dean stopped dead in his tracks, staring across the street at the sidewalk opposite him.
There stood Sam, hands behind his back, cuffed, ankles shackled. There were three police cars surrounding him. Sam’s head was down, his bangs flopping around. He didn’t struggle, stood placidly while too many cops milled around. One of them led Sam to the closest car, and with a hand on the top of Sam’s head he started guiding him into the car.
Sam glanced up, gaze searching the crowd, searching for him Dean knew. He could tell by how Sam’s expression changed when he saw Dean, gave a slight shake of his head. Sam was grateful to see his brother and afraid of being taken away all at the same time.
Casually stepping back a few paces, Dean kept a keen eye on the police car his brother was loaded into. Inching closer to the building behind him, he stayed there until the cops had cleared away. He quietly moved down the street, melting into a group of onlookers, making sure to keep his head down, face hidden from any cameras. He kept his movements and body language neutral.
Once back to their motel room, Dean slipped through the door and shut it firmly behind him, leaning against it, breathing hard. Valkyrie jumped against him, patting at his thighs with her paws, making him start. The coffee sloshed, some dribbling out of the cups and over his hands.
“Ow, damn, crap.” Pushing past the dog, Dean set the cups on the table and darted to the bathroom, rinsing his hands with cold water. Cranking the faucet off, Dean stood leaning heavily on the sink trying to settle his insides and think straight.
He needed information about where Sam was taken and why. Well, he pretty much knew why, they both had records, Dean more than Sam though, so it didn’t make a lot of sense.
Leaving the bathroom, he crossed to the television and switched it on, hoping for some news that might give him ideas. Next he went to Sam’s computer bag and yanked the laptop free. Plugging it in, he booted it up, going straight to a news feed for this area.
All the while Valkyrie sat on his bed looking from Dean to the door in much the same way she had the day he and Sam had gone to Brandon’s apartment and rescued her. He knew she was looking for Sam. The dog was scary in her ability to reason and know what was right and what was wrong. If Sam had gone on some errand or fact finding mission for a hunt, Dean doubted she’d even be awake right now.
“We’ll get him back, chicky, we will, I promise.” Dean shoved one hand into his pocket and yanked out his phone. “We need some information and some help, but we’re not leaving Sammy in there alone, not for one second longer than it has to be.”
Finger hovering over the phone, Dean tried to decide who to call, or more to the point who to call first. He needed help, he knew that, but he and Sam looked after one another. Asking others, even others who were friends and family in their own way gave Dean a pang of insecurity and sparked a small bit of jealousy. He shouldn’t need help caring for Sam any more than Sam needed help looking out for Dean. They understood what the other needed so well and so completely that others simply couldn’t fill that role for either brother except on the most superficial level.
Valkyrie woofed and sat up. Gaze shifting to the dog, Dean sighed. Asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness or inability on his part, he had to remember that. “I need help, chicky. I need my head screwed on straight and I don’t think I can handle this alone.” He sank to the bed beside Valkyrie and rubbed her ears then down her back, amazed how one small dog offered so much comfort. “I can’t. I need…God, I need to get him out.”
Without more thought Dean scrolled through his contact list and made first one call then another. While he talked, trying to slow down and make sense, feeling very much like a small child lost in the mall asking for help finding his parents, he clicked through news sites of the area and flicked through TV stations. Panic settled in him and sprouted long, thorny branches through his chest and gut.
“Listen to me, Dean, you stay put. I’m on my way, but you keep your ass right in that motel room until I get there.”
Don’t fall apart, don’t fall apart. “I…Sam needs…I can’t just sit here.”
“You can and will until I get there. We’ll get him and fix this, but wait. Please. Going in unprepared will only make things worse.”
Dean nodded. When the man on the other end of the phone snorted he realized his action couldn’t be seen. “Okay. How long?”
“Um…I know a guy with a plane, and he owes me, he’ll fly me in. I’ll still need to rent a car. The airport is about-?”
“Not far, forty-five minutes, an hour maybe.” Dean wiped one hand over his face, struggling to concentrate. “I can-”
“No, really, you can’t. I’ll drive. You shouldn’t be driving. We’ll be there late afternoon, early evening. Make sure your ass is sitting in that motel to meet me.”
He’d hung up before Dean remembered to ask who we was?
Pacing didn’t really help, nor did searching online or on the television for any information on Sam’s arrest. One thought kept rampaging through Dean’s mind, Sam was in a cage. His Sam, his Sammy, caged and alone. Dean sat down abruptly, wrapped his arms around his middle and took a few deep breaths, rocking back and forth.
Valkyrie’s cold nose against his arm pulled him back and cleared away some of the raw fear. He pulled his jacket on, pocketed his cell phone and slipped Valkyrie’s harness over her head. A walk would do them both some good, and clear Dean’s head.
When he got back to the motel room Dean’s attention immediately became riveted to the television. He’d left in such hurry he’d forgotten to turn it off. He stood there, mouth open, brain not going fast enough to process what he was seeing or hearing.
A picture of Sam next to a police car earlier that day flashed across the screen. A name was announced and Dean scrambled for something to write on, scribbling the name as he watched the television. There was the usual news drama, how this criminal was apprehended, threat to society, but it was other words that hammered into his befuddled brain and made the thorny bush of panic grow larger.
Child molester. Rapist. Sexual offender. Kidnapper. Stewart Belmont-what the hell kind of name was that?-thirty-seven.
Dean stopped and squinted at the TV. He let the pen drop to the table he’d been hunched over.
“That makes no sense.” He looked over at Valkyrie then back to the television. The information was repeated, he’d heard correctly. Dean scratched his head. “Hell,” he muttered, “even after a real tough night and at his roughest worst in the morning Sammy doesn’t look thirty-seven. That can’t be right.”
Dean decided to not worry about that right now. Sam had obviously been mistaken for someone else. Neither of them had such charges against them and never had, not even close. The likelihood they ever would was so small it couldn’t even be counted.
Deciding he had to do something to pass the time or he’d go completely batshit bonkers, Dean set about digging up everything he could on this Stewart Belmont. He didn’t have Sam’s hacking abilities when it came to things like FBI files, but he had plenty of his own computer savvy. By the time there was a knock on the door Dean was loaded with plenty of information on what this guy did, how he did it and to whom.
He was worse than most of the monsters they hunted and that was pretty bad.
The truly horrible part was Sam was inside a prison filled with convicts who thought Sam was this monster. The thorny bush of panic grew into a huge tree.
A few quick breaths to clear his head and steady his nerves before Dean grasped the door handle and pulled the door open, nearly collapsing with relief when he saw the men standing there. He was surprised to see the sky was dingy gray and purple. It was getting dark. He’d called in the mid-morning.
Stepping forward and pretty much filling the doorway, Tim Forge gave him a crooked smile. “For once you did what someone asked. Are you going to let me in or do I have to camp on the doorstep? You did call me you know.”
“Yeah,” Dean stammered and stood to the side. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“Have you eaten, boy?” Bobby snapped out.
“No, sir.” Dean should have known who Forge meant by ‘we’ and who would be coming with him.
Carter Bitner offered him a sympathetic smile, walked in and shoved a turkey sandwich into Dean’s hand as he slid passed him, muttering a soft, “Eat. Now. Or else.”
Dean still didn’t doubt Carter would have him held down or knocked him out and had a stomach tube run down his throat if he didn’t comply. Taking the offered sandwich, Dean unwrapped it and took a small bite. His empty stomach snarled viciously that it was empty and neglected, he dug into the food.
“So, I’ve just gotten bits and pieces of this, what the hell happened?” Bobby perched against the table, shucked his coat and tossed it over the back of the chair next to him.
“I don’t know. We’ve been here a couple a days, looking into a case. Some sort of vengeful spirit I think, not sure, something that’s lighting people on fire.”
Bobby and Forge groaned in unison.
Dean held up one hand. “I know. We were going to collect what info we could and hand it over to someone else, but we found out it was a person, some wack job arsonist. So we figured we’d pack up and head out. I left to get some coffee and Sam wanted to return some books to the library. He was out of my sight maybe twenty minutes, and honestly I was so damn happy he’d gone alone I never thought-”
“Dean,” Bobby cut him off. “This isn’t your fault in any way.”
“If I’d gone with him or we just stopped on our way out of town maybe…”
“Maybe you’d both be in jail,” Carter pointed out. “At least this way Sam has someone outside who’s going to help him.”
Carter was only trying to make him feel better, Dean knew this, but it wasn’t working. “So, I come out of the coffee shop and there’s Sam, surrounded by cops, in cuffs and shackles. I came back here and called Forge. When I got a name of who they think they arrested I started doing some digging. The guy they think Sam is, he’s some freak who rapes and kills little kids and is thirty-seven. Hell, Sam’s pretty rough around the edges in the morning before he’s had coffee and a shower, but no way he’d look twelve years older.”
Bobby snorted, “Kid don’t look twenty-five half the time.”
“What happened to the arsonist?” Carter asked.
“I don’t know, arrested I think.” Dean’s stomach dropped and more tight, thorny bands constricted around his chest. “Oh, God, what if…Sammy...?” He couldn’t help how his voice trailed off.
“No, Dean, stop that. He won’t be, at least not right away. This guy,” Forge looked up from the papers Dean had printed out, flicking them with one finger, “This guy he’s an escaped convict who is extremely violent. Your arsonist isn’t. It’s not even likely he’s in the same facility. He hasn’t gone to trial yet. Sam would have been taken to a state penitentiary about forty minutes from here. No way they’d put someone who committed those crimes and escaped once in a county lockup. Maximum security is where they’d want him.”
“We gotta get…I can’t leave him in there.” Dean looked around the room. He felt utterly helpless and that was never a good thing.
“No one suggested leaving him there. But,” Bobby hopped off the table, “we’re gonna need more details and a plan. Sam’s not getting sprung tonight. This is a maximum security prison, we can’t just go in there shooting.” He held out his hand for the papers, taking them from Forge. “I want to go nose around Belmont’s home town, see what I can dig up. Then I’m heading back so I can see if I can find building plans for that prison, anything that’ll give us an edge.” He snatched up Valkyrie’s harness and whistled to the dog. He glanced at Forge, “I’ll rent a car and get on the road, should be able to be there by morning.”
Valkyrie bounced across the room, tail pumping while Bobby slipped the harness on. He looked up at Dean, offered a small smile and said gruffly, “guess I’m dog sitting.”
Dean nodded and knelt down, rubbing at the little dog’s ears. “You be a good girl, chicky. We…Sam and me, we’ll come get you soon.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head then rocked back on his heels, wiping at his face. “I promise.” She licked at his face for a few seconds before he gently pushed her back and stood up.
Bobby patted his shoulder and then squeezed it for a few seconds. “We’ll figure it out, we will. Sam might be stuck in there for a few days, but we’ll work out a way to get him out.” He nodded to Carter and Forge heading for the door.
“Mr. Singer, wait.” Forge beat him to the door, leaning one hand against it. Dean would have laughed on another day. What Sam referred to as Forge’s ‘vampireness’ was something they didn’t often see, especially Bobby. So the shocked expression on his face that morphed to annoyance wasn’t completely unexpected.
Forge landed a hard look on Carter. “You need to go with him.”
“I’m the only one here with actual prison time. Yeah, Dean and Sam were in Del Villar’s compound for a few weeks, but I was in there for years and before that in an actual prison. You’re going to need me.”
“Which is exactly why you have to go back to Haven. We do need you, but if you get caught here, you’ll end up in prison all right. You are a wanted felon. Let’s not make the situation worse. You are more valuable far enough away and safe.”
“He’s right,” Bobby said.
“You two check in every twelve hours,” Carter added.
Bobby nodded. “I second that. You two be careful and stay sharp.”
When the door shut behind Carter and Bobby, Valkyrie with them, Dean felt as if his family had been ripped to shreds. He paced the length of the small room a few times, completely aware of how Forge’s gaze followed him.
Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He’d called them for help, they were helping, he knew, but he needed some action. “I’m not leaving my brother in there alone. Either he comes out, or I go in with him. That’s not negotiable. It’s dark, maybe we can grab Sam while he’s being transported-” Dean’s words were cut off without warning.
Forge moved so fast Dean didn’t even realize he’d left his spot by the door. He was a blur of motion as he crossed the room, grabbed Dean by the shirt collar and slammed him backwards into the wall. One arm up and across Dean’s throat. Forge put enough pressure on his windpipe that Dean hacked out a few coughs.
“You listen to me you stupid fuck,” Forge snapped out, his face close enough to Dean’s he could see the tips of the extra set of fangs just under the surface of his upper gums. “This isn’t some hick, backwater local jail your brother is in. This is real prison, the kind with real prisoners. Most these of guys have lived their lives in prison and the people who run the place know that. You walk in there unprepared, you’ll end up arrested. You’ve got a record, Dean, remember? And when they arrest you it’s likely you’ll go to another facility and never see your brother again. He’ll spend the rest of his life inside that prison.” Giving Dean one final push, Forge stepped away from him, turned and ran his hand through his hair.
“You need to listen to me. I’m a cop, a real cop. My badge isn’t fake. I can get in, assess the situation, try to see Sam and see if I can learn anything to help us.”
Straightening, Dean leveled a glare at Forge. “I’m going with you. I need to see Sam.” He dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. “I need to see him. You don’t understand what it did to him being locked in that cage by McCreedy and what we went through in New Mexico. You don’t see what it did to him every single day. He’s…I need to see him.”
“No, but I can sure as hell see what it’s done to you,” Forge said quietly. He nodded a few times. “We need to figure out a way to get you in with me. We need a cover story and someone to back it up.”
“Bobby can do that.”
“How…Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Forge settled at the table and pulled the laptop around. “This everything you found?”
“Yeah, I saved it all then printed it in the office. It should all be on the screen still.” Dean headed to the small fridge and dug out two beers, cracking them open and giving one to Forge. “He’s from a small town in central South Dakota, no offence but I’m really hating South Dakota these days.”
Forge snorted. “I don’t blame you. Says here Belmont went to a Catholic school and worked in his parish.”
“Oh, I bet they’re proud.”
“Yeah. But, maybe we can use that. Don’t suppose you can pull off being a priest?”
Dean laughed outright at that. “All I need is the outfit.”
Chapter 2
Author: mlebayre
Genre: General
Characters/Pairings: No Pairings, Dean and Sam, some other folks.
Rating: R
Spoilers: This is an AU. I've taken canon and events from all seasons, but they are more references than spoilers.
Notes: In this verse Sam never dies, so Dean never makes his deal.
Summary: Apparent mistaken identity lands Sam in prison, leaving Dean on the outside struggling to free his brother. Prison isn't a good place for a hunter especially when not all the inmates are human. Locked in a cage, Sam clings to the edge of sanity and discovers Abaddon has a fan. Next in the Two Souls Verse.
Series: Two Souls Verse
Disclaimer: Not ours,just borrowing from Kripke.
Many thanks to sendintheklowns who was my winning bidder at Kazcon 2009. She asked for another fic in the Two Souls Verse and Sam in prison. What a great idea! Thank you to my wonderful betas, Anickamarie, deej1957 and ajcaddick. Amazing art by thruterryseyes and the incredible vid is by kumaproogey thank you so much to both of you! Thank you silverruffian for all her help with research.
Two souls bonded through eternity.
Without one there truly would not be the other.
Two souls bound together forged by fire into a brotherhood of men.
There were bad days and then there were bad days.
Stepping away from the coffee shop, Dean tightened his grip on the cardboard cups. He’d already repurchased Sam’s coffee after spilling it on the way out the first time. It hadn’t actually been his fault, the wind had caught the door and someone watching a flurry of activity across and down the street, someone who wasn’t paying attention, was nearly smacked full force with the errant door.
Dean had saved the pedestrian, but in the process lost the coffee. Showing up without Sam’s coffee would be worse than facing off an entire pack of rabid werewolves and twice as deadly. So, Dean went back in for more coffee.
Stopping a second attack by the door with his foot, Dean kept careful hold on the cups and headed down the street. When he finally caught sight of what was going on that had so many people so interested Dean stopped dead in his tracks, staring across the street at the sidewalk opposite him.
There stood Sam, hands behind his back, cuffed, ankles shackled. There were three police cars surrounding him. Sam’s head was down, his bangs flopping around. He didn’t struggle, stood placidly while too many cops milled around. One of them led Sam to the closest car, and with a hand on the top of Sam’s head he started guiding him into the car.
Sam glanced up, gaze searching the crowd, searching for him Dean knew. He could tell by how Sam’s expression changed when he saw Dean, gave a slight shake of his head. Sam was grateful to see his brother and afraid of being taken away all at the same time.
Casually stepping back a few paces, Dean kept a keen eye on the police car his brother was loaded into. Inching closer to the building behind him, he stayed there until the cops had cleared away. He quietly moved down the street, melting into a group of onlookers, making sure to keep his head down, face hidden from any cameras. He kept his movements and body language neutral.
Once back to their motel room, Dean slipped through the door and shut it firmly behind him, leaning against it, breathing hard. Valkyrie jumped against him, patting at his thighs with her paws, making him start. The coffee sloshed, some dribbling out of the cups and over his hands.
“Ow, damn, crap.” Pushing past the dog, Dean set the cups on the table and darted to the bathroom, rinsing his hands with cold water. Cranking the faucet off, Dean stood leaning heavily on the sink trying to settle his insides and think straight.
He needed information about where Sam was taken and why. Well, he pretty much knew why, they both had records, Dean more than Sam though, so it didn’t make a lot of sense.
Leaving the bathroom, he crossed to the television and switched it on, hoping for some news that might give him ideas. Next he went to Sam’s computer bag and yanked the laptop free. Plugging it in, he booted it up, going straight to a news feed for this area.
All the while Valkyrie sat on his bed looking from Dean to the door in much the same way she had the day he and Sam had gone to Brandon’s apartment and rescued her. He knew she was looking for Sam. The dog was scary in her ability to reason and know what was right and what was wrong. If Sam had gone on some errand or fact finding mission for a hunt, Dean doubted she’d even be awake right now.
“We’ll get him back, chicky, we will, I promise.” Dean shoved one hand into his pocket and yanked out his phone. “We need some information and some help, but we’re not leaving Sammy in there alone, not for one second longer than it has to be.”
Finger hovering over the phone, Dean tried to decide who to call, or more to the point who to call first. He needed help, he knew that, but he and Sam looked after one another. Asking others, even others who were friends and family in their own way gave Dean a pang of insecurity and sparked a small bit of jealousy. He shouldn’t need help caring for Sam any more than Sam needed help looking out for Dean. They understood what the other needed so well and so completely that others simply couldn’t fill that role for either brother except on the most superficial level.
Valkyrie woofed and sat up. Gaze shifting to the dog, Dean sighed. Asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness or inability on his part, he had to remember that. “I need help, chicky. I need my head screwed on straight and I don’t think I can handle this alone.” He sank to the bed beside Valkyrie and rubbed her ears then down her back, amazed how one small dog offered so much comfort. “I can’t. I need…God, I need to get him out.”
Without more thought Dean scrolled through his contact list and made first one call then another. While he talked, trying to slow down and make sense, feeling very much like a small child lost in the mall asking for help finding his parents, he clicked through news sites of the area and flicked through TV stations. Panic settled in him and sprouted long, thorny branches through his chest and gut.
“Listen to me, Dean, you stay put. I’m on my way, but you keep your ass right in that motel room until I get there.”
Don’t fall apart, don’t fall apart. “I…Sam needs…I can’t just sit here.”
“You can and will until I get there. We’ll get him and fix this, but wait. Please. Going in unprepared will only make things worse.”
Dean nodded. When the man on the other end of the phone snorted he realized his action couldn’t be seen. “Okay. How long?”
“Um…I know a guy with a plane, and he owes me, he’ll fly me in. I’ll still need to rent a car. The airport is about-?”
“Not far, forty-five minutes, an hour maybe.” Dean wiped one hand over his face, struggling to concentrate. “I can-”
“No, really, you can’t. I’ll drive. You shouldn’t be driving. We’ll be there late afternoon, early evening. Make sure your ass is sitting in that motel to meet me.”
He’d hung up before Dean remembered to ask who we was?
Pacing didn’t really help, nor did searching online or on the television for any information on Sam’s arrest. One thought kept rampaging through Dean’s mind, Sam was in a cage. His Sam, his Sammy, caged and alone. Dean sat down abruptly, wrapped his arms around his middle and took a few deep breaths, rocking back and forth.
Valkyrie’s cold nose against his arm pulled him back and cleared away some of the raw fear. He pulled his jacket on, pocketed his cell phone and slipped Valkyrie’s harness over her head. A walk would do them both some good, and clear Dean’s head.
When he got back to the motel room Dean’s attention immediately became riveted to the television. He’d left in such hurry he’d forgotten to turn it off. He stood there, mouth open, brain not going fast enough to process what he was seeing or hearing.
A picture of Sam next to a police car earlier that day flashed across the screen. A name was announced and Dean scrambled for something to write on, scribbling the name as he watched the television. There was the usual news drama, how this criminal was apprehended, threat to society, but it was other words that hammered into his befuddled brain and made the thorny bush of panic grow larger.
Child molester. Rapist. Sexual offender. Kidnapper. Stewart Belmont-what the hell kind of name was that?-thirty-seven.
Dean stopped and squinted at the TV. He let the pen drop to the table he’d been hunched over.
“That makes no sense.” He looked over at Valkyrie then back to the television. The information was repeated, he’d heard correctly. Dean scratched his head. “Hell,” he muttered, “even after a real tough night and at his roughest worst in the morning Sammy doesn’t look thirty-seven. That can’t be right.”
Dean decided to not worry about that right now. Sam had obviously been mistaken for someone else. Neither of them had such charges against them and never had, not even close. The likelihood they ever would was so small it couldn’t even be counted.
Deciding he had to do something to pass the time or he’d go completely batshit bonkers, Dean set about digging up everything he could on this Stewart Belmont. He didn’t have Sam’s hacking abilities when it came to things like FBI files, but he had plenty of his own computer savvy. By the time there was a knock on the door Dean was loaded with plenty of information on what this guy did, how he did it and to whom.
He was worse than most of the monsters they hunted and that was pretty bad.
The truly horrible part was Sam was inside a prison filled with convicts who thought Sam was this monster. The thorny bush of panic grew into a huge tree.
A few quick breaths to clear his head and steady his nerves before Dean grasped the door handle and pulled the door open, nearly collapsing with relief when he saw the men standing there. He was surprised to see the sky was dingy gray and purple. It was getting dark. He’d called in the mid-morning.
Stepping forward and pretty much filling the doorway, Tim Forge gave him a crooked smile. “For once you did what someone asked. Are you going to let me in or do I have to camp on the doorstep? You did call me you know.”
“Yeah,” Dean stammered and stood to the side. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“Have you eaten, boy?” Bobby snapped out.
“No, sir.” Dean should have known who Forge meant by ‘we’ and who would be coming with him.
Carter Bitner offered him a sympathetic smile, walked in and shoved a turkey sandwich into Dean’s hand as he slid passed him, muttering a soft, “Eat. Now. Or else.”
Dean still didn’t doubt Carter would have him held down or knocked him out and had a stomach tube run down his throat if he didn’t comply. Taking the offered sandwich, Dean unwrapped it and took a small bite. His empty stomach snarled viciously that it was empty and neglected, he dug into the food.
“So, I’ve just gotten bits and pieces of this, what the hell happened?” Bobby perched against the table, shucked his coat and tossed it over the back of the chair next to him.
“I don’t know. We’ve been here a couple a days, looking into a case. Some sort of vengeful spirit I think, not sure, something that’s lighting people on fire.”
Bobby and Forge groaned in unison.
Dean held up one hand. “I know. We were going to collect what info we could and hand it over to someone else, but we found out it was a person, some wack job arsonist. So we figured we’d pack up and head out. I left to get some coffee and Sam wanted to return some books to the library. He was out of my sight maybe twenty minutes, and honestly I was so damn happy he’d gone alone I never thought-”
“Dean,” Bobby cut him off. “This isn’t your fault in any way.”
“If I’d gone with him or we just stopped on our way out of town maybe…”
“Maybe you’d both be in jail,” Carter pointed out. “At least this way Sam has someone outside who’s going to help him.”
Carter was only trying to make him feel better, Dean knew this, but it wasn’t working. “So, I come out of the coffee shop and there’s Sam, surrounded by cops, in cuffs and shackles. I came back here and called Forge. When I got a name of who they think they arrested I started doing some digging. The guy they think Sam is, he’s some freak who rapes and kills little kids and is thirty-seven. Hell, Sam’s pretty rough around the edges in the morning before he’s had coffee and a shower, but no way he’d look twelve years older.”
Bobby snorted, “Kid don’t look twenty-five half the time.”
“What happened to the arsonist?” Carter asked.
“I don’t know, arrested I think.” Dean’s stomach dropped and more tight, thorny bands constricted around his chest. “Oh, God, what if…Sammy...?” He couldn’t help how his voice trailed off.
“No, Dean, stop that. He won’t be, at least not right away. This guy,” Forge looked up from the papers Dean had printed out, flicking them with one finger, “This guy he’s an escaped convict who is extremely violent. Your arsonist isn’t. It’s not even likely he’s in the same facility. He hasn’t gone to trial yet. Sam would have been taken to a state penitentiary about forty minutes from here. No way they’d put someone who committed those crimes and escaped once in a county lockup. Maximum security is where they’d want him.”
“We gotta get…I can’t leave him in there.” Dean looked around the room. He felt utterly helpless and that was never a good thing.
“No one suggested leaving him there. But,” Bobby hopped off the table, “we’re gonna need more details and a plan. Sam’s not getting sprung tonight. This is a maximum security prison, we can’t just go in there shooting.” He held out his hand for the papers, taking them from Forge. “I want to go nose around Belmont’s home town, see what I can dig up. Then I’m heading back so I can see if I can find building plans for that prison, anything that’ll give us an edge.” He snatched up Valkyrie’s harness and whistled to the dog. He glanced at Forge, “I’ll rent a car and get on the road, should be able to be there by morning.”
Valkyrie bounced across the room, tail pumping while Bobby slipped the harness on. He looked up at Dean, offered a small smile and said gruffly, “guess I’m dog sitting.”
Dean nodded and knelt down, rubbing at the little dog’s ears. “You be a good girl, chicky. We…Sam and me, we’ll come get you soon.” He bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head then rocked back on his heels, wiping at his face. “I promise.” She licked at his face for a few seconds before he gently pushed her back and stood up.
Bobby patted his shoulder and then squeezed it for a few seconds. “We’ll figure it out, we will. Sam might be stuck in there for a few days, but we’ll work out a way to get him out.” He nodded to Carter and Forge heading for the door.
“Mr. Singer, wait.” Forge beat him to the door, leaning one hand against it. Dean would have laughed on another day. What Sam referred to as Forge’s ‘vampireness’ was something they didn’t often see, especially Bobby. So the shocked expression on his face that morphed to annoyance wasn’t completely unexpected.
Forge landed a hard look on Carter. “You need to go with him.”
“I’m the only one here with actual prison time. Yeah, Dean and Sam were in Del Villar’s compound for a few weeks, but I was in there for years and before that in an actual prison. You’re going to need me.”
“Which is exactly why you have to go back to Haven. We do need you, but if you get caught here, you’ll end up in prison all right. You are a wanted felon. Let’s not make the situation worse. You are more valuable far enough away and safe.”
“He’s right,” Bobby said.
“You two check in every twelve hours,” Carter added.
Bobby nodded. “I second that. You two be careful and stay sharp.”
When the door shut behind Carter and Bobby, Valkyrie with them, Dean felt as if his family had been ripped to shreds. He paced the length of the small room a few times, completely aware of how Forge’s gaze followed him.
Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He’d called them for help, they were helping, he knew, but he needed some action. “I’m not leaving my brother in there alone. Either he comes out, or I go in with him. That’s not negotiable. It’s dark, maybe we can grab Sam while he’s being transported-” Dean’s words were cut off without warning.
Forge moved so fast Dean didn’t even realize he’d left his spot by the door. He was a blur of motion as he crossed the room, grabbed Dean by the shirt collar and slammed him backwards into the wall. One arm up and across Dean’s throat. Forge put enough pressure on his windpipe that Dean hacked out a few coughs.
“You listen to me you stupid fuck,” Forge snapped out, his face close enough to Dean’s he could see the tips of the extra set of fangs just under the surface of his upper gums. “This isn’t some hick, backwater local jail your brother is in. This is real prison, the kind with real prisoners. Most these of guys have lived their lives in prison and the people who run the place know that. You walk in there unprepared, you’ll end up arrested. You’ve got a record, Dean, remember? And when they arrest you it’s likely you’ll go to another facility and never see your brother again. He’ll spend the rest of his life inside that prison.” Giving Dean one final push, Forge stepped away from him, turned and ran his hand through his hair.
“You need to listen to me. I’m a cop, a real cop. My badge isn’t fake. I can get in, assess the situation, try to see Sam and see if I can learn anything to help us.”
Straightening, Dean leveled a glare at Forge. “I’m going with you. I need to see Sam.” He dropped his voice to a harsh whisper. “I need to see him. You don’t understand what it did to him being locked in that cage by McCreedy and what we went through in New Mexico. You don’t see what it did to him every single day. He’s…I need to see him.”
“No, but I can sure as hell see what it’s done to you,” Forge said quietly. He nodded a few times. “We need to figure out a way to get you in with me. We need a cover story and someone to back it up.”
“Bobby can do that.”
“How…Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Forge settled at the table and pulled the laptop around. “This everything you found?”
“Yeah, I saved it all then printed it in the office. It should all be on the screen still.” Dean headed to the small fridge and dug out two beers, cracking them open and giving one to Forge. “He’s from a small town in central South Dakota, no offence but I’m really hating South Dakota these days.”
Forge snorted. “I don’t blame you. Says here Belmont went to a Catholic school and worked in his parish.”
“Oh, I bet they’re proud.”
“Yeah. But, maybe we can use that. Don’t suppose you can pull off being a priest?”
Dean laughed outright at that. “All I need is the outfit.”
Chapter 2