Fic - Hidden Plans (2/5)
Title - Hidden Plans (2/5)
Rating - G
Pairing - None
Characters - Adam, Dean, John, mentions of Sam
Disclaimer - Don't belong to me. If I did own it, things would be much much different (Sam not being an idiot in the fourth season, Dean not being one at the end of season 5 )
Spoiler - 4x18 - Jump the Shark
Warnings - Um, none, I think
Summary - Adam realizes that his mom and John aren't going to introduce him to his brothers. And so takes matters into his own hands. Things don't go the way he'd planned.
A/N - A huge thanks to those who reviewed. You guys made my day with your comments. Initially, I was going to have Adam meet Sam and Dean in this, but after reading the Brotherhood AU series by Ridley C James (which, OMG, if you haven't read, go and read it. It is amazingly good (though does not have Adam, which is sad)), the plot bunnies changed. I hope you like where they headed.
“Damn it,” Dean said, as he watched the kid pass out.
His dad had sent him on a simple salt and burn, telling him he was going out again, this time taking his truck and leaving Dean his car.
Dean hadn’t said much, just listened to the information that John had given him, telling him that he could handle it. That was most of their interactions these days, ever since Sa-
Cutting himself off from the dark thoughts that crowded his mind these days, Dean looked down at the boy, swallowing hard as he saw a lot of his little brother in the young boy passed out on the floor.
The salt and burn had almost gone perfectly, the ghost showing up at the last moment to try and stop him, only to disappear again. Dean had heard some thumps and bumps from above him, but had ignored it, thinking it was his father, returned early from wherever he had been headed.
He’d been shocked when his flashlight fell on the small frame huddling on the floor.
“Kid,” he said, tapping the young boy on the cheek, feeling something clench as his fingers came away damp, red catching his eye as he put them in front of the flashlight.
“Damn it,” he muttered again, running his hand over the kid’s head and finding a decent size gash.
Sighing, he pulled out a bandage from his bag, pushing it against the kid’s head. It took him some maneuvering to pick the kid up, but Dean managed it, wondering what the hell the kid was doing in a house in the middle of the night … and what the hell his parents were doing that they hadn’t realized their little boy was missing.
When he made it outside, he pulled out his phone, cursing when he realized that he had no signal.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
Making his way to the Impala, he gently put the boy in the back seat, trying to ignore the part of him that was reminded again of his little brother, surprised that he felt a connection with the kid.
He wasn’t that good with kids, the only one he had ever gotten along with being his little brother, and Dean wasn’t sure that he had the connection he thought with Sam. Not if his brother could just cut him out of his life like he had the past few months.
Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, and ignoring the part in his chest that was aching, he put the lights in the car on, crouching down so he could have a look at the kid’s injury.
It didn’t look too bad, nothing that he hadn’t patched up before, the blood flow almost stopped, and Dean was almost sure that it wouldn’t need stitches.
Setting to work quickly, he cleaned the cut up, putting butterfly strips across the cut, before putting another bandage over the top.
Standing up, Dean wasn’t sure what to do. Usually he’d ring an ambulance, the ambulance would come and fix up the innocent, and then he could be on his way, preferably before the cops showed up.
Running a hand over his head, Dean decided there was no harm driving the kid back to town, how he had got out here was beyond Dean, and either dropping him off at the hospital, or, if the kid woke up, at home. It would only take half an hour, and then Dean could go to the bar, another night spent drowning his sorrows.
Getting into the car, his eyes went to the rear view mirror, falling on the young boy, heart clenching as he saw how vulnerable the kid looked.
He hoped the kid was okay, surprised again at the feeling that was running through his chest, a feeling that only Sammy usually inspired in him.
Starting the car, he pushed the thoughts back, not wanting to think about his brother, trying to concentrate on getting back to town and then the bar, but as always, failing.
It had been three months since Sam left, but it felt like an eternity to Dean. He’d been as shocked as his dad when Sam had told them about Stanford, felt a part of himself fracture, the feeling like his heart was being ripped out running through him.
He’d watched his brother leave, watched his brother tell their dad that he didn’t need them, that there was nothing here for him, not once looking back when he walked out the door, not responding to his calls to wait, and felt like his life was over.
His dad had refused to talk about it, to talk about the fight that Dean had missed, coming home to see his dad yelling that if Sam was going then he could stay gone. Not talking was alright by Dean, he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone, wasn’t ready to open up the wounds further.
Especially when Sam refused to answer his calls, refused to talk to Dean, and that’s what hurt the most, that told him that his brother didn’t need him, was telling the truth when he said that there was nothing there for him, the fact that Sam could cut him so efficiently out of his life and not care.
Dean’s musings were cut short by a low groan. Eyes rising to the mirror, he saw in the dark light the boy move, his eyes slowly opening, frowning up at the roof, before turning and looking at him.
“How you doing there, kid?” he asked, not missing the way the kid was staring at him in wide eyed awe.
Moving a little uncomfortably, not used to kids looking at him in anything other then mistrust, he cleared his throat; glad to see the town border, his hotel not far away.
“You’re Dean Winchester,” the boy said, sitting up, his eyes still staring at Dean in wide eyed wonder.
“Uh,” Dean answered, wondering if he should have checked the kid for being something Supernatural.
“Cristo,” he said, relaxing a little as the boy just frowned at him his eyes still staying normal.
“Is that some new way to say ‘yes’?” the kid asked, small smile crossing his face.
Dean couldn’t help but smile a little, before he remembered that the kid knew his name.
“You stalking me, kid?” he asked, staring into blue eyes, as the landscape lit up around them as they entered the town..
“Um,” the kid said, suddenly looking unsure, hand running through his sandy coloured hair. “I know about you … I know about you because …”
Dean waited, eyes flicking to the mirror every now and again, waiting for the kid to finish his sentence.
“Because …?” he prompted.
“Mbrozer,” the kid replied, slouching down, hiding behind his fringe.
“Come again?” he asked, amused.
“I’m your brother?”
Slamming on the brakes, Dean stared straight ahead, before turning to look back at the small boy, who was obviously deranged.
“I’m sorry?” he asked in disbelief.
“I’m your brother,” the kid said again, sounding more sure of himself. “My name’s Adam, and I’ve wanted to meet you for ages.”
Holding up his hand, Dean shook his head, wondering if he was the one who had hit his head.
“How … why do you think I’m your brother?” he asked, something in him telling him the kid wasn’t lying.
“John,” the kid replied immediately, pulling something out of his pocket. “Although he doesn’t talk about you guys much, even when I ask him. But I saw this photo of you once, and he had to tell me, and then I decided I wanted to meet you, so I stowed away in the Impala.”
Taking a deep breath, Dean felt his stomach flip as he took the photo, listening to the kid’s rambling, surprised when he saw it was of him and Sam.
“Is Sam with you?” the kid, Adam, Dean corrected himself, asked.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head, feeling numb, like his world had been rocked again.
The kid was wrong, he only had one brother, Dad would’ve told him if he had another, wouldn’t have kept something like this from him.
“You’re wrong, kid,” he replied, turning back around, trying to ignore the photo in his hand and starting to drive again.
“I am not!” Adam replied indignantly, sounding exactly like- Dean cut off that thought. The kid wasn’t related to him, the very idea was crazy.
“Why would I lie?” he asked, crossing his arms and pouting.
That was the question Dean was trying to answer. How did the kid know about him and why would he lie about it?
“You hit your head pretty hard,” he said, trying to convince himself that it made sense.
“I’m your brother!” Adam said again, and the tone of his voice, the almost desperation in it, almost made Dean believe him, that and the gut feeling he had.
As they started to pass the hotel, he couldn’t help but feel relieved when he saw his Dad’s truck there, knowing one way to end this little misunderstanding once and for all. Clearly the kid had somehow heard his name, maybe he was psychic, and was confused.
“Fine,” he said, pulling around and into the hotel parking spot.
“We’ll ask Dad then.”
**
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A/N - As always let me know what you thought :).
Rating - G
Pairing - None
Characters - Adam, Dean, John, mentions of Sam
Disclaimer - Don't belong to me. If I did own it, things would be much much different (Sam not being an idiot in the fourth season, Dean not being one at the end of season 5 )
Spoiler - 4x18 - Jump the Shark
Warnings - Um, none, I think
Summary - Adam realizes that his mom and John aren't going to introduce him to his brothers. And so takes matters into his own hands. Things don't go the way he'd planned.
A/N - A huge thanks to those who reviewed. You guys made my day with your comments. Initially, I was going to have Adam meet Sam and Dean in this, but after reading the Brotherhood AU series by Ridley C James (which, OMG, if you haven't read, go and read it. It is amazingly good (though does not have Adam, which is sad)), the plot bunnies changed. I hope you like where they headed.
“Damn it,” Dean said, as he watched the kid pass out.
His dad had sent him on a simple salt and burn, telling him he was going out again, this time taking his truck and leaving Dean his car.
Dean hadn’t said much, just listened to the information that John had given him, telling him that he could handle it. That was most of their interactions these days, ever since Sa-
Cutting himself off from the dark thoughts that crowded his mind these days, Dean looked down at the boy, swallowing hard as he saw a lot of his little brother in the young boy passed out on the floor.
The salt and burn had almost gone perfectly, the ghost showing up at the last moment to try and stop him, only to disappear again. Dean had heard some thumps and bumps from above him, but had ignored it, thinking it was his father, returned early from wherever he had been headed.
He’d been shocked when his flashlight fell on the small frame huddling on the floor.
“Kid,” he said, tapping the young boy on the cheek, feeling something clench as his fingers came away damp, red catching his eye as he put them in front of the flashlight.
“Damn it,” he muttered again, running his hand over the kid’s head and finding a decent size gash.
Sighing, he pulled out a bandage from his bag, pushing it against the kid’s head. It took him some maneuvering to pick the kid up, but Dean managed it, wondering what the hell the kid was doing in a house in the middle of the night … and what the hell his parents were doing that they hadn’t realized their little boy was missing.
When he made it outside, he pulled out his phone, cursing when he realized that he had no signal.
“Damn it,” he muttered.
Making his way to the Impala, he gently put the boy in the back seat, trying to ignore the part of him that was reminded again of his little brother, surprised that he felt a connection with the kid.
He wasn’t that good with kids, the only one he had ever gotten along with being his little brother, and Dean wasn’t sure that he had the connection he thought with Sam. Not if his brother could just cut him out of his life like he had the past few months.
Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, and ignoring the part in his chest that was aching, he put the lights in the car on, crouching down so he could have a look at the kid’s injury.
It didn’t look too bad, nothing that he hadn’t patched up before, the blood flow almost stopped, and Dean was almost sure that it wouldn’t need stitches.
Setting to work quickly, he cleaned the cut up, putting butterfly strips across the cut, before putting another bandage over the top.
Standing up, Dean wasn’t sure what to do. Usually he’d ring an ambulance, the ambulance would come and fix up the innocent, and then he could be on his way, preferably before the cops showed up.
Running a hand over his head, Dean decided there was no harm driving the kid back to town, how he had got out here was beyond Dean, and either dropping him off at the hospital, or, if the kid woke up, at home. It would only take half an hour, and then Dean could go to the bar, another night spent drowning his sorrows.
Getting into the car, his eyes went to the rear view mirror, falling on the young boy, heart clenching as he saw how vulnerable the kid looked.
He hoped the kid was okay, surprised again at the feeling that was running through his chest, a feeling that only Sammy usually inspired in him.
Starting the car, he pushed the thoughts back, not wanting to think about his brother, trying to concentrate on getting back to town and then the bar, but as always, failing.
It had been three months since Sam left, but it felt like an eternity to Dean. He’d been as shocked as his dad when Sam had told them about Stanford, felt a part of himself fracture, the feeling like his heart was being ripped out running through him.
He’d watched his brother leave, watched his brother tell their dad that he didn’t need them, that there was nothing here for him, not once looking back when he walked out the door, not responding to his calls to wait, and felt like his life was over.
His dad had refused to talk about it, to talk about the fight that Dean had missed, coming home to see his dad yelling that if Sam was going then he could stay gone. Not talking was alright by Dean, he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone, wasn’t ready to open up the wounds further.
Especially when Sam refused to answer his calls, refused to talk to Dean, and that’s what hurt the most, that told him that his brother didn’t need him, was telling the truth when he said that there was nothing there for him, the fact that Sam could cut him so efficiently out of his life and not care.
Dean’s musings were cut short by a low groan. Eyes rising to the mirror, he saw in the dark light the boy move, his eyes slowly opening, frowning up at the roof, before turning and looking at him.
“How you doing there, kid?” he asked, not missing the way the kid was staring at him in wide eyed awe.
Moving a little uncomfortably, not used to kids looking at him in anything other then mistrust, he cleared his throat; glad to see the town border, his hotel not far away.
“You’re Dean Winchester,” the boy said, sitting up, his eyes still staring at Dean in wide eyed wonder.
“Uh,” Dean answered, wondering if he should have checked the kid for being something Supernatural.
“Cristo,” he said, relaxing a little as the boy just frowned at him his eyes still staying normal.
“Is that some new way to say ‘yes’?” the kid asked, small smile crossing his face.
Dean couldn’t help but smile a little, before he remembered that the kid knew his name.
“You stalking me, kid?” he asked, staring into blue eyes, as the landscape lit up around them as they entered the town..
“Um,” the kid said, suddenly looking unsure, hand running through his sandy coloured hair. “I know about you … I know about you because …”
Dean waited, eyes flicking to the mirror every now and again, waiting for the kid to finish his sentence.
“Because …?” he prompted.
“Mbrozer,” the kid replied, slouching down, hiding behind his fringe.
“Come again?” he asked, amused.
“I’m your brother?”
Slamming on the brakes, Dean stared straight ahead, before turning to look back at the small boy, who was obviously deranged.
“I’m sorry?” he asked in disbelief.
“I’m your brother,” the kid said again, sounding more sure of himself. “My name’s Adam, and I’ve wanted to meet you for ages.”
Holding up his hand, Dean shook his head, wondering if he was the one who had hit his head.
“How … why do you think I’m your brother?” he asked, something in him telling him the kid wasn’t lying.
“John,” the kid replied immediately, pulling something out of his pocket. “Although he doesn’t talk about you guys much, even when I ask him. But I saw this photo of you once, and he had to tell me, and then I decided I wanted to meet you, so I stowed away in the Impala.”
Taking a deep breath, Dean felt his stomach flip as he took the photo, listening to the kid’s rambling, surprised when he saw it was of him and Sam.
“Is Sam with you?” the kid, Adam, Dean corrected himself, asked.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head, feeling numb, like his world had been rocked again.
The kid was wrong, he only had one brother, Dad would’ve told him if he had another, wouldn’t have kept something like this from him.
“You’re wrong, kid,” he replied, turning back around, trying to ignore the photo in his hand and starting to drive again.
“I am not!” Adam replied indignantly, sounding exactly like- Dean cut off that thought. The kid wasn’t related to him, the very idea was crazy.
“Why would I lie?” he asked, crossing his arms and pouting.
That was the question Dean was trying to answer. How did the kid know about him and why would he lie about it?
“You hit your head pretty hard,” he said, trying to convince himself that it made sense.
“I’m your brother!” Adam said again, and the tone of his voice, the almost desperation in it, almost made Dean believe him, that and the gut feeling he had.
As they started to pass the hotel, he couldn’t help but feel relieved when he saw his Dad’s truck there, knowing one way to end this little misunderstanding once and for all. Clearly the kid had somehow heard his name, maybe he was psychic, and was confused.
“Fine,” he said, pulling around and into the hotel parking spot.
“We’ll ask Dad then.”
**
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A/N - As always let me know what you thought :).