Prompts: 13-asinine, 88-drizzle
Title: Discovering Vampries
Author: my_sam_dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/character: Sam, Luther, Dean, Bobby, John
Rating: R
Prompt: 13 - asinine - 100 prompts for thought table
Notes/Warnings: I own nothing Supernatural. Sam is taken by Luther. Will the others rescue him in time?
"Vampires?" Dean asked in disbelief. "You never even mentioned them."
"I thought Elkins and his kind had wiped them out. I've never hunted one myself, but I've spoken to a few people who have dealt with them and walked away relatively unharmed."
"Relatively?" Sam's voice cracked.
"They were enough alive to tell me what happened. The physical scars will heal. The emotional ones, well, we all have those."
Both boys stared at him. Nervously, he continued, "The only way to kill them is beheading. Dead man's blood will slow them down but it's effects are only temporary and unpredictable. It all has to do with the amount of blood, how long the person had been dead and the health of the vampire infected. You still have those machetes?"
"Yeah. Need one?" Dean reached into his trunk and came out with a huge, shiny blade.
"I've got it covered," John replied as he opened his toy box, the hidden weapon compartment in his newly acquired truck.
Sam piped in, "What's the plan?"
"We go in and save the humans. We kill the vampires. We meet up back at the vehicles."
"You have a way of making it sound so simple," Dean smirked. "Ready to kill some ugly vamps, Sammy?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," he shrugged and grabbed a knife of his own. "It's not often we get to hunt something that we thought didn't exist. Think we'll hunt Bigfoot next or Nessie?"
Quickly, Dean replied, "Bigfoot. There's no way I'm flying over an ocean."
***
What was already a shaky plan unraveled almost as soon as they made it into the nest. They had their machetes drawn and were ready for action.
John was the first to draw. He got two monsters in quick succession. Dean plowed his blade through another one. Still with the element of surprise, Sam killed his first vamp.
Bent over a couple that were asleep, John drew his bloody blade. An errant vamp stumbled his way into the room and shouted a warning. The way the previously sleeping vamp's eyes popped open was almost comical. John didn't have time to jump back before he was grabbed by the collar and thrown across the room.
"Dad!" Dean cried as John hit the floor. He'd intended to run to him but was attacked from behind, stumbled and fell.
With them both down, Sam was way outnumbered. In a moment they had all the Winchesters surrounded and Sam restrained..
"I'll take this one," The leader named Luther indicated the youngest Winchester whose eyes were frantically darting to see his dad and brother.
"NO!" Dean screamed. He sliced the head off a vamp that came closer to him.
"That's it!" Luther yelled and everyone stopped moving. He had Sam in a stranglehold. "I have no beef with the two of you. Either you relinquish your weapons and leave quietly or you can stay as our next meal. If you don't drop the weapons, I'll snap his neck."
Dean dropped his weapon, as did John, when the vampire threatened Sam's life. They could only watch as Luther dragged the youngest Winchester away, through the bodies of his comrades and his mate, Kate. He never turned around, walking backwards all the way, as if he had eyes in the back of his head or a sixth sense.
Initially, Sam had fought Luther when he'd been grabbed. As Luther's hold grew tighter and tighter, Sam's air supply had been greatly reduced. He had spots dancing in front of his eyes and couldn't form a coherent thought long enough to plan his escape.
***
"We'll get him back," John promised.
"I can't believe we're leaving him here."
"Just to get some reinforcements. A few more people in the rescue party will increase our odds."
Tormented, Dean asked, "Odds of what?"
"Surviving. Getting Sam."
In the silence of the car, neither of them moved to turn on the radio. John was on his cell phone before they got in the door to the motel, putting out word that they needed help. Dean sat on his bed and picked Sam's sweatshirt up from the floor. He held it to his face. Breathing in the scent of Sam, Dean felt like the worst brother in the world. Even if it was a tactical mistake, he wanted to go rushing in, guns blazing and save Sam. Gunshots wouldn't kill the damn things but should slow them down a little.
***
Sam's eyes drifted open. He was in complete darkness. With his hands, he mapped out the shape of what he was trapped in. He didn't panic. The bumps of the road told him that they were traveling at a pretty good clip and had him bound in the trunk. There was nothing else in there, nothing he could use to try to get out. His head hurt from his earlier treatment and he decided to just let his eyes close. He wouldn't be any good at escaping if he was exhausted when they got to wherever their destination was.
***
The group of hunters assisting John and Dean burned up the roadways getting to them. They armed up, made a plan of attack and took off to the nest.
Slowly, Dean opened the door, not wanting it to creak. He peered through the dim light but the dust filtering through the air made it hard to see. John, Ellen, Bobby and Caleb made their entrance and were rooted to the spot with fear. The bodies of the slain vampires were still there. All the others, including Sam, were gone.
"From the remnants of their fire, I'd say they left about the time you called us," Bobby told John.
"Where do we look next?" Dean was not accepting failure and barred anyone else from thinking that Sam was a lost cause. "How do we track these damn things?"
"That's what we need to find out, boy," Bobby put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We're getting Sam back. Just need to do some research to learn about the enemy first. I brought some of my books. We can pair up so one person reads while the other drives if we can track them. Let's get some sleep and start bright and early."
John hadn't said a word. When they entered the run-down building and Sam wasn't there, all of his energy seeped into the ground. He was grateful that Bobby took charge of the situation and had a plan.
***
The abandoned home wasn't small. Luther drug Sam in through the front door, tied him up and left him locked in a bedroom with a couple other people the group was keeping for their blood supply.
"I'm Sam," his voice was shaky. "Can anyone tell me what they've been doing?"
One robust lady looked his way. "I don't even know how long I've been here. They drink my blood, take whatever pleasure they want from my body and then leave me alone. Sometimes we get fed. I don't think Dawn is going to make it." She indicated the slight, pale girl that was lying on the floor. "My name's Cheryl. This is Evan." She pointed to the only other person in the room. "He doesn't speak. They cut his tongue out because he talked too much. That's all I have to say."
Sam knew that Cheryl wasn't about to risk any more words. She'd passed along as much useful information as possible. No use getting caught and punished just over some chit-chat.
Dawn looked fragile and just barely alive. Bruises marred her milky skin and there was clotted blood in her long hair from a head injury. Only the small movement of her chest with each shallow breath assured him that she wasn't dead--yet.
Looking all around, Sam took in his surroundings. There were hooks and chains on the walls, so this wasn't just someplace they decided to squat for awhile. This was another nest, ready to hold the prisoners. His heart sank as he realized just how hopeless his situation was. None of the others were in any shape to make a run for it. He was on his own, trapped by creatures he knew next to nothing about.
***
Luther mourned the loss of his mate, Kate. He'd taken Sam to punish the hunters and exact revenge. He hadn't as much as looked at Sam since they arrived at Nest 2. He had taken up drinking liquor and getting loud.
Bo, who simply hated Sam for the part of society he represented, was the one to bring them some food. Each person got a bowl of beans, a slice of bread and a paper cup of water.
"Ding, Ding goes the dinner bell!" Bo announced annoyingly as he entered the room. He placed a bowl near each person. When he reached Sam, he cut all the bindings except the one around his hands.
"What about her?" Sam pointed Dawn.
"What?"
"She can't feed herself and we can't help her with our hands bound."
"Looks like we have us another talker," Bo laughed cruelly. "Ask Evan what we do to talkers. That small gal? You're right, she's not going to make it. It would just be a waste of food." He tromped over and picked the skinny lady up. "We'll just finish her off while you have your meal. Enjoy!"
Sam was speechless, which was probably good for keeping his tongue. He'd meant they should be able to help Dawn, not to put her out of her misery.
"She's been here longer then me. It's a blessing that she won't suffer anymore," Cheryl said quietly to bowl. She couldn't look at Sam. "Guess they'll bring in someone new when we start to wear down. You've taken Dawn place on the menu."
There it was in black and white. It was difficult to ignore the cold truth when they heard the vamps hurting Dawn down the hall. She screamed a couple times before it was just raucous laughter and eating.
No longer hungry, Sam pushed his bowl away.
There was no way to tell what time it was or if it was a whole other day. Lost in thoughts and boredom, Sam's mind just checked out. There was no escape plan to make because they couldn't get away. Either he could try to stay alive long enough for help to come or he could starve himself to death. He didn't see any other option.
***
Luther released Sam as violently as he had grabbed him. He licked the blood from his lips as Sam's head spun from the quick movement.
"Get back with the rest of them," Luther growled. "I have no use for you at the moment."
Stumbling, Sam made his way out of the room. While one of the vampires was bringing him back to what Sam thought of as a cell, Sam happened to brush against Bo, who was heading the other direction.
"Little shit," Bo shoved him against the wall. "I should--"
"Bo!" The other one yelled as he pushed him out of the way and took a hold of Sam again. "You know Luther doesn't like it when you mess with his food!"
"I'll get you," Bo growled in Sam's ear before he stepped away.
Sam was still disoriented and had to concentrate on his feet to keep him upright. The dead man behind him kept a hand around his arm and was the only way Sam made it to the room. Even his eyesight was fuzzy after Luther had fed.
"What did he do to you?" Cheryl whispered when she could no longer hear the departing footsteps.
"Fed a little much," Sam tried to smile at her but it was a grimace.
"He's gonna kill you at this rate," she mumbled as she pressed a dirty cloth to the new wound on his neck.
He knew that was the point. He was never going to get out of there alive. Whether he died from blood loss or Luther flat out murdered him in anger, it didn't much matter. It was all the same in the end.
Cheryl moved back to her usual place when Sam held the patch of material on his own. Neither of them could chance getting caught talking. Plus, Evan looked terrified every time Sam or Cheryl opened their mouths. He was just waiting to relieve his nightmare of when he was mutilated.
Time had worn Sam down. At first he had fought, but that spark died quickly when it was drained out of him drop by drop. He no longer had any hope. He just wanted it to be over with.
***
"What do you mean you don't have any leads?" Dean yelled. "All those folks you talked to and not a one of them had any idea?"
"Watch your tone, boy," John warned.
"They're keeping feelers out for anything that looks suspicious. All we can do is read up on the vampires until we get a call." Bobby sighed as he sat down at the table laden with texts. "I know you're frustrated but running off on a wild goose chase isn't going to help when someone calls us with a concrete clue and we're halfway across the country. The nest was here. They won't be able to hide for long and they can't get far before they need to take cover. The sunlight might only be strong enough to give them a sunburn, but they don't like discomfort any more than we do."
Dean hung his head. He knew Bobby was right. He had so much pent up energy bursting to get out on the hunt for Sam and had ended up venting it the wrong way. "I'm--"
"Don't worry about it. Finding anything interesting in that book?"
"Just that garlic and crucifixes don't work against them."
Bobby gave him a small smile. "At least that's something."
***
The tall man's eyes drifted closed as Luther broke his skin. For some reason, Sam's lashes reminded him of Kate. The longing that had settled in his gut seemed lighter when Sam was around. He missed seeing the anger and spirit in Sam. He knew he had to be broken or he would never have allowed Luther to feed as he had. Still, something about him made Luther want to keep his company longer each day.
The rest of the nest was getting restless and that meant tempers were short. Luther knew that taking the current prisoners was risky and shouldn't be done. Letting Sam die and finding another human didn't sound at all appealing. Was there something else he could do to keep him?
After Sam had departed, Luther heard a loud ruckus. Sated from the warmth creeping through his body, he slowly moved to the door and went to investigate.
In the main room he found Sam pinned on the floor with Bo straddling him. He was screaming and hitting Sam repeatedly.
Luther roared, "He's mine!" as he threw himself against Bo, knocking him to the ground. He saw red. When he was finally aware of his surroundings again, his whole 'family' was staring at him and Bo was a bloody heap on the ground. In his fury, he'd ripped Bo's head from his body and killed him. "Get him out of here!" he ordered and everyone jumped to obey.
When they were gone, he assessed the guy still on the floor. He hadn't moved from where he'd lain beneath Bo. Not understanding the emotions he was feeling and still not wanting Sam out of his sight, he picked Sam up and laid him on his bed. Luther sat on the edge with his head in his hands, wondering when the struggle of being undead had gotten so out of control.
***
"I got a call!" Caleb rushed into the room without knocking. Dean sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. John stood in the kitchenette drinking some coffee. "Bobby's looking it up now and making a few calls to other hunters that should be in the area. Get packed. We'll leave as soon as he has it mapped out."
Dean flew from under the covers and started stuffing their belongings into bags without rhyme or reason. John momentarily froze as the words took awhile to seep in. Then, he was moving as quick as possible as he demanded Caleb tell him all the details.
"I've got it!" Bobby waved his map in the air. "I'll get the others road ready." Just as quickly as he had arrived, his head disappeared from the doorway and they heard him enter the room next door.
"Do you think this lead is for real?" Dean almost dreaded asking his Dad the question.
"I don't know, Dean. I hope it is and we have enough manpower to get Sam out of there."
"Oh, we're getting him out," Dean's voice was full of determination. He whispered to himself, "I won't leave without him."
***
Sam struggled awake and thought he still had to be dreaming. When had the floor gotten so soft? Was that a blanket draped over him?
There was no other sound in the room but he sensed someone else. He had to search to find Luther sitting in the shadows. His eyes were trained on Sam.
"You've woke," Luther stood. "You were out a long while."
Not sure if an answer was expected or not, Sam kept silent.
"Bo won't be of concern anymore."
Sam was glad to hear it but still confused.
"I never intended to share you." Luther paused as if trying to find a way to word his next sentence correctly. "I've grown used to you."
He was unsure if that was something he should be glad about or not. He was left to wonder when Luther left the room, leaving him secured to the bed.
***
"Are you sure this is the right spot?" Dean couldn't help but ask as they turned to search the area again.
"This is where he told us to go. Whether he passed the correct information to me, I don't know." Bobby was trying to keep his patience and having a difficult time.
"Quit being a backseat driver," John grumbled as he hunched over the steering wheel.
Gritting his teeth, Dean sank back into the seat and refrained from saying anything else.
***
Sam thought he heard familiar footfalls but was sure that it was just wishful thinking again. He stayed curled up as much as he could and laid there. A slight scraping at the door caught his full attention. He was staring at it when all hell broke loose in the rest of the house. Luther was yelling, others were screaming.
The door swung open and Sam almost choked with surprise as Dean rushed to the bed and started cutting through the ropes.
"I've got you, Sammy." He looked at Sam's face and saw how utterly defeated he felt. "We've got to hurry. The others will take care of the nest themselves."
Struggling to his feet, Sam asked, "Others?"
"Hunters. I'll explain when we're in the car. We need to move."
Not wasting energy on nodding, Sam followed Dean as quickly as he could. Dean drug him along with an arm around his waist. Sam almost shouted when another man slung his arm around him to get him walking quicker.
"That's Abe," was Dean's short explanation.
Sam couldn't remember ever hearing about an Abe. But, Dean seemed to trust him and that was good enough for Sam.
The sunlight was blinding after being inside for so long. He squinted his eyes tight as they adjusted. When he saw the Impala, he couldn't help but sob. All those days he'd dreamed of rescue and not dared wish for it. Just the hope was enough to crush him.
"Cheryl," Sam pointed back to the house when Dean had him sitting down. "Evan."
"They're looking for other survivors," Abe assured him. "We were almost clear of the vamps when I came to help you. Sweeping for others was next in the plan."
Tipping his head back, Sam didn't even feel his head hit the back of the seat before a snore passed through his lips.
"Think he'll be okay?" Dean whispered.
Abe put a hand on his shoulder. "He has plenty of time to get there. With a brother like you, he should make it."
Dean stared at Sam's frail body and hoped it was true.
***
"He won't eat?" John asked when Dean returned with a frown on his face.
"Says he's not hungry. He only had a couple of bites."
"His stomach probably shrunk. I'm sure they didn't give him any Thanksgiving dinners when he was gone. He could be numb to hunger pains."
Dean put the dish back in the fridge before he slumped down at the peeling table in a cheap extended stay motel.
"Patience isn't your strong point but it's of utmost importance that you don't raise your voice or get irritated with Sam."
"I'd never do that."
"Just checking."
"I just wish he was more angry. That would be an improvement."
"Takes energy to be mad, Dean. I'm sure he'll get there."
***
"He wanted to keep me," Sam spoke of his confinement for the first time when Dean sat him as usual at mealtime.
"Who?"
"Luther. He said I was his. When another vamp tried to get at me, Luther got me back. I don't know what he did to Bo."
"Probably nothing more than what he deserved. They're all gone, Sam."
"We don't know that they're all gone. We thought they didn't exist before." He dared look his brother in the eye.
"The ones that hurt you and got your scent are," Dean spoke slowly so the words could sink in. "That's good enough for me."
Sam quickly broke the gaze.
Dean's heart cracked as he realized how skittish Sam was. He knew it would be a long road ahead but they had more friends than ever to help them.
Title: The One Time Dean Couldn't Save Sam
Author: my_sam_dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/character: Sam/Dean, Castiel, Bobby, Ellen
Rating: R
Prompt: 88 - drizzle - 100 prompts for thought table
Notes/Warnings: Warnings: character death, slash, incest, implied Sam/Castiel
"Sam!" Dean cried as he took the last steps toward his brother as he fell to his knees. He grabbed Sam's falling body and stared at the knife sticking out of him in disbelief. They were hunters. They were in danger on a regular basis. With all that they'd faced, a human was going to be what took Sammy down?
Slowly, Sam's eyes opened and a faint smile crossed his lips as he whispered Dean's name and collapsed into his arms.
Bobby followed Dean's voice and skidded to a halt when he saw Dean kneeling and clutching Sam. A man in the distance had turned to run, but he wasn't quick enough. The shot from Bobby's gun hit him exactly where he intended, right between the eyes. He didn't bother going to check on the stranger and ran to his boys.
"Bobby! Sam's bad off. You have to help him!"
He looked at Sam's slack face and the blade that was buried into him. Sam was like a rag doll in Dean's arms, flopping as Dean pled with Bobby to fix him. Knowing he was about to tread on hazardous ground, Bobby made his voice as sure as possible, "Let's get him back to the truck and look at him. All my supplies are there."
"Hear that, Sammy?" Dean choked though his tears. "Bobby's going to make you good as new." He struggled to his feet with Sam in his arms and had to throw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry to move him. He apologized for his rough handling and in the back of his mind he wondered why Sam wasn't complaining. Fear made him dismiss the thought and focus on moving forward.
He gently laid Sam on the seat and looked expectantly up at Bobby.
Bobby felt for a pulse in Sam's neck and, finding none, he checked Sam's wrist just to make sure. He was going though the motions so Dean wouldn't be able to look back on this horrific experience and pinpoint something else they should have done to save Sam. Bobby did all he could. When he closed Sam's vacant eyes, he was faced with a shattered Dean.
"No!" Dean screamed to the heavens. "No, Bobby!" He went to snatch Sam back and Bobby had to physically restrain him.
"Dean! He's gone." Bobby looked for any indication that he was getting though. "He's gone, Dean. That knife probably killed him instantly."
"He was fine when he fell. He knew me and called me by name. He knew I'd come for him. Sammy wouldn't leave me. Never." Dean sounded so sure of himself that he almost made Bobby doubt his conclusion.
"It wasn't his fault, Dean, and it wasn't yours. You can blame the man who stabbed him but he's already dead."
Dazed, Dean just stared at his surrogate father.
"No one can hurt him now. He isn't in his body any longer and we need to take care of him nice and proper."
Anger and terror flashed in Dean's eyes as he pictured his father's funeral pyre. "Don't you say that. Don't you dare say that. I'm getting him back, Bobby. You might have given up on him, but I haven 't."
"It's not a matter of giving up," Bobby tried to explain.
Dean threw himself out of Bobby's grasp and drew his gun. "Step away from him, Bobby."
Stunned, Bobby couldn't move.
"Don't you dare touch him. He's my baby brother. He's my Sammy."
Bobby wisely moved out of the way, hands up as if in surrender. He'd never thought he'd be at the receiving end of Dean's gun.
Stumbling forward, Dean carefully placed Sam over his shoulder. He marched past Bobby's truck and tucked Sam into the passenger seat of the Impala. The engine roared to life.
After the sound of the engine faded away, Bobby shed the shock that covered him like a cloak. He did the only thing he could think of--he drove home. That's where Dean would look for him and he wanted to be easy to find.
***
Frantically, Dean dug through the packed dirt with his pocked knife until he located the metal box. He threw the black and white picture out of the way and replaced it with one of his.
"Come and get me!" He challenged. When no one appeared, he continued to rant.
"You're giving me a headache," a beautiful woman flatly said from behind Dean. He whipped around just in time to see her eyes turn red. "Looking for me?"
"Bring him back. Take me right now if you want to, but you bring him back!"
She tried to act innocent. "Him, who?"
"Don't mess with me! Give Sam back his life!"
She clicked her tongue. "Poor, poor Dean," her words cut Dean right through. "Sam's as dead as he can be. He's not coming back."
"Yes he is! I want to deal!"
"Well, tough. I don't."
"Without him, I'll die anyway."
"I know," her eyes flashed with glee. "That's why you have to live."
She disappeared and left Dean abandoned in the middle of the crossroads.
***
Before daylight, Dean raced through the gates of the scrap yard. He pounded on the door. Bobby answered quickly. He'd been waiting for Dean.
"She wouldn't do it, Bobby. Damn bitch knew I can't survive without Sammy and was happy about it."
"She's a demon, Dean. Sounds like par for the course."
"There has to be something," he grasped for straws. "A ritual I haven't heard about or even some black magic."
"If there was one, and I'm not saying there is, do you think Sam would want to be back knowing that he was unnatural or that you lost your soul for him?"
"He'd have to be alive to know it, and that's good enough for me."
When the morning light peeked over the horizon, Dean was out cold. Bobby, knowing his devotion to his brother, had drugged the liquor he'd offered Dean. He'd been running in overdrive with Dean since Sam disappeared and he knew Dean needed the rest. And, he had to have Dean out of the way if he was going to get Sam ready.
***
Dull eyes stared ahead with no recognition as Bobby stood beside Dean as the fire burned. Dean had fought him tooth and nail. When he decided to believe Bobby, that Sam was really dead and there was no way he could bring him back, his training kicked in and he couldn't let a demon or any other being inhabit his brother's body. It was the last way he could protect Sam and feel like a big brother.
"You couldn't bury him," Bobby broke the silence. "There's no way you could chance something getting a hold of his body. You know the demons would love to use Sam against you and they'd enjoy tormenting you with his appearance."
"I know." Dean's voice had a disconnected tone. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
***
Dean kept himself in a drunken haze until Bobby refused to stock the alcohol cabinet again. Then, he begrudgingly sobered up and the pain set in.
His absolute silence scared Bobby more than his drinking had. At least his tongue had loosened up as his intoxication grew and he could tell what Dean was thinking. In the quiet, he had no clue what was going on in that kid's head. He knew he was grieving his brother's death but had no idea what Dean was planning on doing, if Dean was plotting at all.
Insomnia sank its claws into the household and tempers flew as misery loved company and there was no way to heal the hurt. Moving on was their only option and Dean was refusing to proceed in that direction. In return for Bobby's graciousness and hospitality, he struck out at the older man, well aware of what he was inflicting. He simply didn't care anymore.
***
Although it was a relief for both of them when Dean left to go back to hunting, Bobby was still concerned about Dean's state of mind. He never doubted Dean's skills as a hunter but if he didn't have enough focus to keep his head in the game it wouldn't matter how hard he'd trained. It would just be over. No second chances or do-overs. Just over.
As a courtesy to Bobby, and partially because he felt like a heel for all the shit he'd dumped on Bobby when the older man welcomed him into his home and took care of him -- made sure Dean ate, made meals as needed and reminded him to at least try to get to sleep at night--Dean phoned Bobby every other day. It didn't matter if he'd just spent the last two days driving, he still called. Not much to talk about, but it eased Bobby's mind and gave him a way to gauge how Dean was dealing.
No one else received calls from Dean. Ash, Ellen and Jo had tried to get ahold of him and just got his voicemail. He didn't return their calls. He'd cut himself off from most of the hunting community.
Days were spent recovering from the bottle he'd fallen into or the babe he'd banged overnight. Research was haphazard at best. Dean was being reckless and he didn't care. Sam was gone. His one reason to want to live in this cruel world had been ripped from him. He felt the ache every hour of every day.
***
Months passed and Dean still had messages piling up on his voicemail. He talked to Bobby regularly and had no idea why the group from the Roadhouse would be calling him. He ignored the messages until his mailbox was full and he had to delete some in case Bobby needed to leave him a message. Feeling guilty for tossing aside his friends, Dean figured he could at least listen to the last couple.
The first one he listened to was Ellen. "Dean, why the hell don't you answer your phone? It's important that I talk to you. Shit. If you don't want to talk to me, call Jo or Ash."
The next was from Jo. "How many messages have I left so far? So many that I lost count! We've been calling for a reason, Dean, and a damn good one at that. You know our numbers."
He had two women pissed off at him and he knew that wasn't a good thing. Not wanting to talk to anyone until he absolutely had to, he pointed the Impala toward the Roadhouse and drove.
***
The dirt parking lot hadn't changed. Neither had the vehicles, mostly old trucks with gun racks and storage in the bed. He rolled his shoulders and tried to work the kink out of his neck as he strode to the door.
He grabbed the handle and had only opened the door a crack when he heard a sound that sent his heart pounding. He had his gun in his hand and pointed inside when he slowly opened the door.
All conversation stopped when they saw Dean ready to shoot.
"Dean?" Ellen approached him from the side. "It's so good to see you. Want a beer?"
Dean couldn't believe what he was seeing. He knew what he'd heard and Ellen was acting as if it was business and usual. "Where is he? Where are you hiding him?"
"Who?"
"Whatever took Sam's shape, that's who! I know that voice, Ellen, and it's him. Just tell me where he is and I'll get rid of him for you."
"Get rid of him? Didn't you get any of my messages?"
Dean just looked at her with a crushed look on his face. He'd heard Sam and he was going to have to kill a carbon copy of his beloved little brother. How could she not know how hard this was on him?
"Where's. Sam." He spoke loudly and clearly.
There was a shuffle that came in the direction of the kitchen. Someone stepped through the doorway, calling something over his shoulder to someone else. Then, he noticed his brother and a wide smile with full dimples spread across his face. "Dean!"
"Stop right there!" He had Sam on the barrel end of his gun. "Who are you? What are you?"
"I'm Sam. Your brother."
His hair was longer than Sam's had been but otherwise Dean couldn't see any difference. "We burned Sam's body," Dean growled. "How did you get it?"
A skinny man stepped between the brothers and held out his hands in a placating gesture. "Dean, this really is Sam."
"Why should I believe you?"
The new man introduced himself. "My name is Castiel and I brought Sam back to life. This is really Sam, Dean."
He heard the words and wanted to believe them. He'd waited for so long to hear those words that he only heard in his dreams.
"It's just me, Dean." Sam stepped forward and took the gun from Dean's hands. "I don't know how it happened, it just did. I've been back for over a month now. We did all the tests and I'm not a shape shifter, skin walker or demon."
Tears swelled in his eyes as he choked out, "Sammy?"
Then he was grabbed in typical Sammy bear hug fashion. With Sam's arms around him, Dean wondered if he'd fallen asleep somewhere along the line and not noticed. The warmth of Sam's body next to his caused his brain to skip over the questions of how and why. He was happy to just be.
***
Awkward didn't come close to covering how Dean felt when nighttime came around. He'd been glancing at Sam when he wasn't looking, trying to figure out what Sam wanted from him. Considering that they had been everything, and I mean everything, to each other, Dean didn't know if he was welcome in Sam's bed as he had been before the whole 'going to hell' thing. Still, he was surprised when he cracked Sam's bedroom door open and saw two figures asleep on the bed.
"Sammy?"
"Dean?" Sam groggily searched around for him. He rubbed his eyes and asked, "What's the matter?"
"I wanted to, um . . . talk."
Sam untangled himself from the blankets, careful not to disturb the angel lying by his side. He rubbed his bare arms to try to warm them up against the chill. "What did you want to talk about?"
Dean tilted his head toward his room. Sam nodded and followed Dean down the hall.
"I didn't know," Dean started and then decided on another approach. "I wanted you in my bed tonight and can't tell if you want it, too."
"Yeah," Sam replied. "I mean, I'm glad I didn't give off any vibes since we don't need anyone else knowing. I wasn't sure if you were convinced I'm me."
"You're a one-of-a-kind geek," Dean looked at him lovingly. "I've missed you so much."
Always the more tactile of the two, Sam was the one who crossed the space between them and placed his hand on Dean's face. "I didn't know if you could ever love me again."
"Again? Sammy, I never stopped."
"Good. That will make me sleeping in your bed less awkward."
"Speaking of beds, why was Castiel in yours?" Dean tried to make is sound like ordinary conversation but Sam heard the words behind what Dean was saying.
"He got me out. I was a mess. He nursed me back to health and helped me get to my feet. I could never thank him enough for getting me out. I was going to lose the part of me that's human. He arrived before it could be taken from me."
"You don't owe him anything," Dean told Sam. "You didn't ask him to save you so a simple 'Thank You' should suffice."
"It's just, he's my best friend, Dean. And I know this is only going to point out how lame I am, but I've never had a best friend."
"You have me."
"But you wear many hats: brother, protector, lover, teacher and best friend."
"So I'm still more important."
"Should you and Cas just whip them out and see whose is bigger?"
"Sure, if you want to. We both know I'd win."
"Don't fight over me, Dean. I need you both. Don't make me choose one."
Unable to deny Sam of anything, he dropped the issue and welcomed Sam into his bed.
***
"What happened when you died?" Dean asked in the dark.
"I don't want to go there."
"Why can't you tell me?"
"I'm not going to talk about it."
"I need to know."
"The important thing is that I'm back. I want to catch up with life before it flies past me while I'm wallowing in the past."
***
Sam and Cas were sitting at the table with their heads bowed, speaking in hushed tones. Dean tried to hear what the subject was but they stopped their conversation before he could overhear anything pertinent.
"I was going to show Cas the stream on the back part of the property. Do you want to come with?" Sam invited him.
"I was going to wash the car. Why don't you lend me a hand?" Dean countered.
"Sure," Sam said slowly, looking at Cas and not getting any readable look from him.
Dean gathered what they'd need but only Sam was at the Impala.
"Where's Cas?"
"He's an angel. He isn't used to being around automobiles."
"Whatever."
Dean and Sam got the Impala so clean that shined.
"We deserve a beer," Dean said. "Why don't you go find that angel of yours and invite him with?"
"Meet you there."
Sam entered the saloon with a sulking Cas at his back.
Dean asked, "What's the problem?"
"This is a place of sin," Castiel said in a flat tone.
"Anyplace on earth could be a place of sin. We're just drinking at the watering hole," Dean tried to lighten the mood.
"The people here are going to get drunk and fornicate."
"That's usually how it goes," Dean nodded. "On a good night, anyway."
Castiel's face turned beet red in anger. He turned around and left.
"Why'd you have to goad him like that, Dean?"
"It was too easy."
"He's trying to be friends with you."
"He needs to shove his holier than thou attitude."
Sam glanced around. "I'd better go find him."
"Isn't he a grown man?"
"A man without a weapon and no clue how to defend himself."
"You'd better go protect that little weirdo. Who knows what kind of trouble he can stir up on his own?"
Sam sat his drink down and walked out of the Roadhouse. Dean turned his attention back to the bar. He already had a buzz going and was going to feed that feeling until he was numb. That way, he could start all over in the morning trying to figure out what Castiel was all about.
Dean was well on his way to toasted when he saw Cas come back in. He didn't think anything about it. He figured Sam had just been hanging with him outside.
Cas elbowed Dean, "Where's Sam?"
"He went looking for you. Didn't you see him?"
"Nope. When did he leave?"
The watch face looked bleary and Dean's brain was slow with calculating time at such an hour.
"He's been gone too long." Dean paid his tab and grabbed his jacket. "I'm going to look for him."
"I'm coming, too."
Dean just stared at the angel.
"I know where some of his haunts are. I just want to help."
"Fine. You keep your ass behind me and follow my orders."
When Cas saw Dean put a gun in the waistband of his pants, he decided that it was not a time to argue.
***
Sam had been beat to hell. Apparently, one of the hunters had heard of his demise and figured him for a supernatural being. Having done the same thing, Dean could see their reasoning. What he couldn't abide by, though, was the extent of his injuries. They'd found Sam and would get him back to the Roadhouse. Dean could get names and deal out vengeance later.
"You've got a shiner," Ellen said as she gently cleaned the blood from Sam's face. "Jaw is swollen and the goose egg on the back of you're head probably isn't doing you any favors. Those slices on your arms will heal up soon enough. Just keep the bandages clean."
Nodding, Sam indicated that he'd heard her.
"Sam," Ellen crouched in front of Sam so she could look him in the face. "You need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know."
Sam smiled even though it hurt. "Make Dean and Cas get along?"
"They do, Sam. They worked together to find you."
"They didn't kill each other first?"
"They put you above their petty arguing. They're putting forth an effort. That says something."
"Yeah," Sam felt a little lighter.
Dean and Cas were never going to be good friends. Dean's protective streak would clash with Castiel's, Cas was an angel and Dean, well, Dean sinned. Frequently, most of the time. Castiel would forever hold the circumstances he found Sam as a secret. Dean would never know. Likewise, Dean held the secrets of their relationship and there was no way he'd let Castiel find out.
Sam, well, sometimes he played peacekeeper. Other times he basked in the attention of the two men that cared more about him than anything in the world.
Author: my_sam_dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/character: Sam, Luther, Dean, Bobby, John
Rating: R
Prompt: 13 - asinine - 100 prompts for thought table
Notes/Warnings: I own nothing Supernatural. Sam is taken by Luther. Will the others rescue him in time?
"Vampires?" Dean asked in disbelief. "You never even mentioned them."
"I thought Elkins and his kind had wiped them out. I've never hunted one myself, but I've spoken to a few people who have dealt with them and walked away relatively unharmed."
"Relatively?" Sam's voice cracked.
"They were enough alive to tell me what happened. The physical scars will heal. The emotional ones, well, we all have those."
Both boys stared at him. Nervously, he continued, "The only way to kill them is beheading. Dead man's blood will slow them down but it's effects are only temporary and unpredictable. It all has to do with the amount of blood, how long the person had been dead and the health of the vampire infected. You still have those machetes?"
"Yeah. Need one?" Dean reached into his trunk and came out with a huge, shiny blade.
"I've got it covered," John replied as he opened his toy box, the hidden weapon compartment in his newly acquired truck.
Sam piped in, "What's the plan?"
"We go in and save the humans. We kill the vampires. We meet up back at the vehicles."
"You have a way of making it sound so simple," Dean smirked. "Ready to kill some ugly vamps, Sammy?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," he shrugged and grabbed a knife of his own. "It's not often we get to hunt something that we thought didn't exist. Think we'll hunt Bigfoot next or Nessie?"
Quickly, Dean replied, "Bigfoot. There's no way I'm flying over an ocean."
***
What was already a shaky plan unraveled almost as soon as they made it into the nest. They had their machetes drawn and were ready for action.
John was the first to draw. He got two monsters in quick succession. Dean plowed his blade through another one. Still with the element of surprise, Sam killed his first vamp.
Bent over a couple that were asleep, John drew his bloody blade. An errant vamp stumbled his way into the room and shouted a warning. The way the previously sleeping vamp's eyes popped open was almost comical. John didn't have time to jump back before he was grabbed by the collar and thrown across the room.
"Dad!" Dean cried as John hit the floor. He'd intended to run to him but was attacked from behind, stumbled and fell.
With them both down, Sam was way outnumbered. In a moment they had all the Winchesters surrounded and Sam restrained..
"I'll take this one," The leader named Luther indicated the youngest Winchester whose eyes were frantically darting to see his dad and brother.
"NO!" Dean screamed. He sliced the head off a vamp that came closer to him.
"That's it!" Luther yelled and everyone stopped moving. He had Sam in a stranglehold. "I have no beef with the two of you. Either you relinquish your weapons and leave quietly or you can stay as our next meal. If you don't drop the weapons, I'll snap his neck."
Dean dropped his weapon, as did John, when the vampire threatened Sam's life. They could only watch as Luther dragged the youngest Winchester away, through the bodies of his comrades and his mate, Kate. He never turned around, walking backwards all the way, as if he had eyes in the back of his head or a sixth sense.
Initially, Sam had fought Luther when he'd been grabbed. As Luther's hold grew tighter and tighter, Sam's air supply had been greatly reduced. He had spots dancing in front of his eyes and couldn't form a coherent thought long enough to plan his escape.
***
"We'll get him back," John promised.
"I can't believe we're leaving him here."
"Just to get some reinforcements. A few more people in the rescue party will increase our odds."
Tormented, Dean asked, "Odds of what?"
"Surviving. Getting Sam."
In the silence of the car, neither of them moved to turn on the radio. John was on his cell phone before they got in the door to the motel, putting out word that they needed help. Dean sat on his bed and picked Sam's sweatshirt up from the floor. He held it to his face. Breathing in the scent of Sam, Dean felt like the worst brother in the world. Even if it was a tactical mistake, he wanted to go rushing in, guns blazing and save Sam. Gunshots wouldn't kill the damn things but should slow them down a little.
***
Sam's eyes drifted open. He was in complete darkness. With his hands, he mapped out the shape of what he was trapped in. He didn't panic. The bumps of the road told him that they were traveling at a pretty good clip and had him bound in the trunk. There was nothing else in there, nothing he could use to try to get out. His head hurt from his earlier treatment and he decided to just let his eyes close. He wouldn't be any good at escaping if he was exhausted when they got to wherever their destination was.
***
The group of hunters assisting John and Dean burned up the roadways getting to them. They armed up, made a plan of attack and took off to the nest.
Slowly, Dean opened the door, not wanting it to creak. He peered through the dim light but the dust filtering through the air made it hard to see. John, Ellen, Bobby and Caleb made their entrance and were rooted to the spot with fear. The bodies of the slain vampires were still there. All the others, including Sam, were gone.
"From the remnants of their fire, I'd say they left about the time you called us," Bobby told John.
"Where do we look next?" Dean was not accepting failure and barred anyone else from thinking that Sam was a lost cause. "How do we track these damn things?"
"That's what we need to find out, boy," Bobby put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We're getting Sam back. Just need to do some research to learn about the enemy first. I brought some of my books. We can pair up so one person reads while the other drives if we can track them. Let's get some sleep and start bright and early."
John hadn't said a word. When they entered the run-down building and Sam wasn't there, all of his energy seeped into the ground. He was grateful that Bobby took charge of the situation and had a plan.
***
The abandoned home wasn't small. Luther drug Sam in through the front door, tied him up and left him locked in a bedroom with a couple other people the group was keeping for their blood supply.
"I'm Sam," his voice was shaky. "Can anyone tell me what they've been doing?"
One robust lady looked his way. "I don't even know how long I've been here. They drink my blood, take whatever pleasure they want from my body and then leave me alone. Sometimes we get fed. I don't think Dawn is going to make it." She indicated the slight, pale girl that was lying on the floor. "My name's Cheryl. This is Evan." She pointed to the only other person in the room. "He doesn't speak. They cut his tongue out because he talked too much. That's all I have to say."
Sam knew that Cheryl wasn't about to risk any more words. She'd passed along as much useful information as possible. No use getting caught and punished just over some chit-chat.
Dawn looked fragile and just barely alive. Bruises marred her milky skin and there was clotted blood in her long hair from a head injury. Only the small movement of her chest with each shallow breath assured him that she wasn't dead--yet.
Looking all around, Sam took in his surroundings. There were hooks and chains on the walls, so this wasn't just someplace they decided to squat for awhile. This was another nest, ready to hold the prisoners. His heart sank as he realized just how hopeless his situation was. None of the others were in any shape to make a run for it. He was on his own, trapped by creatures he knew next to nothing about.
***
Luther mourned the loss of his mate, Kate. He'd taken Sam to punish the hunters and exact revenge. He hadn't as much as looked at Sam since they arrived at Nest 2. He had taken up drinking liquor and getting loud.
Bo, who simply hated Sam for the part of society he represented, was the one to bring them some food. Each person got a bowl of beans, a slice of bread and a paper cup of water.
"Ding, Ding goes the dinner bell!" Bo announced annoyingly as he entered the room. He placed a bowl near each person. When he reached Sam, he cut all the bindings except the one around his hands.
"What about her?" Sam pointed Dawn.
"What?"
"She can't feed herself and we can't help her with our hands bound."
"Looks like we have us another talker," Bo laughed cruelly. "Ask Evan what we do to talkers. That small gal? You're right, she's not going to make it. It would just be a waste of food." He tromped over and picked the skinny lady up. "We'll just finish her off while you have your meal. Enjoy!"
Sam was speechless, which was probably good for keeping his tongue. He'd meant they should be able to help Dawn, not to put her out of her misery.
"She's been here longer then me. It's a blessing that she won't suffer anymore," Cheryl said quietly to bowl. She couldn't look at Sam. "Guess they'll bring in someone new when we start to wear down. You've taken Dawn place on the menu."
There it was in black and white. It was difficult to ignore the cold truth when they heard the vamps hurting Dawn down the hall. She screamed a couple times before it was just raucous laughter and eating.
No longer hungry, Sam pushed his bowl away.
There was no way to tell what time it was or if it was a whole other day. Lost in thoughts and boredom, Sam's mind just checked out. There was no escape plan to make because they couldn't get away. Either he could try to stay alive long enough for help to come or he could starve himself to death. He didn't see any other option.
***
Luther released Sam as violently as he had grabbed him. He licked the blood from his lips as Sam's head spun from the quick movement.
"Get back with the rest of them," Luther growled. "I have no use for you at the moment."
Stumbling, Sam made his way out of the room. While one of the vampires was bringing him back to what Sam thought of as a cell, Sam happened to brush against Bo, who was heading the other direction.
"Little shit," Bo shoved him against the wall. "I should--"
"Bo!" The other one yelled as he pushed him out of the way and took a hold of Sam again. "You know Luther doesn't like it when you mess with his food!"
"I'll get you," Bo growled in Sam's ear before he stepped away.
Sam was still disoriented and had to concentrate on his feet to keep him upright. The dead man behind him kept a hand around his arm and was the only way Sam made it to the room. Even his eyesight was fuzzy after Luther had fed.
"What did he do to you?" Cheryl whispered when she could no longer hear the departing footsteps.
"Fed a little much," Sam tried to smile at her but it was a grimace.
"He's gonna kill you at this rate," she mumbled as she pressed a dirty cloth to the new wound on his neck.
He knew that was the point. He was never going to get out of there alive. Whether he died from blood loss or Luther flat out murdered him in anger, it didn't much matter. It was all the same in the end.
Cheryl moved back to her usual place when Sam held the patch of material on his own. Neither of them could chance getting caught talking. Plus, Evan looked terrified every time Sam or Cheryl opened their mouths. He was just waiting to relieve his nightmare of when he was mutilated.
Time had worn Sam down. At first he had fought, but that spark died quickly when it was drained out of him drop by drop. He no longer had any hope. He just wanted it to be over with.
***
"What do you mean you don't have any leads?" Dean yelled. "All those folks you talked to and not a one of them had any idea?"
"Watch your tone, boy," John warned.
"They're keeping feelers out for anything that looks suspicious. All we can do is read up on the vampires until we get a call." Bobby sighed as he sat down at the table laden with texts. "I know you're frustrated but running off on a wild goose chase isn't going to help when someone calls us with a concrete clue and we're halfway across the country. The nest was here. They won't be able to hide for long and they can't get far before they need to take cover. The sunlight might only be strong enough to give them a sunburn, but they don't like discomfort any more than we do."
Dean hung his head. He knew Bobby was right. He had so much pent up energy bursting to get out on the hunt for Sam and had ended up venting it the wrong way. "I'm--"
"Don't worry about it. Finding anything interesting in that book?"
"Just that garlic and crucifixes don't work against them."
Bobby gave him a small smile. "At least that's something."
***
The tall man's eyes drifted closed as Luther broke his skin. For some reason, Sam's lashes reminded him of Kate. The longing that had settled in his gut seemed lighter when Sam was around. He missed seeing the anger and spirit in Sam. He knew he had to be broken or he would never have allowed Luther to feed as he had. Still, something about him made Luther want to keep his company longer each day.
The rest of the nest was getting restless and that meant tempers were short. Luther knew that taking the current prisoners was risky and shouldn't be done. Letting Sam die and finding another human didn't sound at all appealing. Was there something else he could do to keep him?
After Sam had departed, Luther heard a loud ruckus. Sated from the warmth creeping through his body, he slowly moved to the door and went to investigate.
In the main room he found Sam pinned on the floor with Bo straddling him. He was screaming and hitting Sam repeatedly.
Luther roared, "He's mine!" as he threw himself against Bo, knocking him to the ground. He saw red. When he was finally aware of his surroundings again, his whole 'family' was staring at him and Bo was a bloody heap on the ground. In his fury, he'd ripped Bo's head from his body and killed him. "Get him out of here!" he ordered and everyone jumped to obey.
When they were gone, he assessed the guy still on the floor. He hadn't moved from where he'd lain beneath Bo. Not understanding the emotions he was feeling and still not wanting Sam out of his sight, he picked Sam up and laid him on his bed. Luther sat on the edge with his head in his hands, wondering when the struggle of being undead had gotten so out of control.
***
"I got a call!" Caleb rushed into the room without knocking. Dean sat up on the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. John stood in the kitchenette drinking some coffee. "Bobby's looking it up now and making a few calls to other hunters that should be in the area. Get packed. We'll leave as soon as he has it mapped out."
Dean flew from under the covers and started stuffing their belongings into bags without rhyme or reason. John momentarily froze as the words took awhile to seep in. Then, he was moving as quick as possible as he demanded Caleb tell him all the details.
"I've got it!" Bobby waved his map in the air. "I'll get the others road ready." Just as quickly as he had arrived, his head disappeared from the doorway and they heard him enter the room next door.
"Do you think this lead is for real?" Dean almost dreaded asking his Dad the question.
"I don't know, Dean. I hope it is and we have enough manpower to get Sam out of there."
"Oh, we're getting him out," Dean's voice was full of determination. He whispered to himself, "I won't leave without him."
***
Sam struggled awake and thought he still had to be dreaming. When had the floor gotten so soft? Was that a blanket draped over him?
There was no other sound in the room but he sensed someone else. He had to search to find Luther sitting in the shadows. His eyes were trained on Sam.
"You've woke," Luther stood. "You were out a long while."
Not sure if an answer was expected or not, Sam kept silent.
"Bo won't be of concern anymore."
Sam was glad to hear it but still confused.
"I never intended to share you." Luther paused as if trying to find a way to word his next sentence correctly. "I've grown used to you."
He was unsure if that was something he should be glad about or not. He was left to wonder when Luther left the room, leaving him secured to the bed.
***
"Are you sure this is the right spot?" Dean couldn't help but ask as they turned to search the area again.
"This is where he told us to go. Whether he passed the correct information to me, I don't know." Bobby was trying to keep his patience and having a difficult time.
"Quit being a backseat driver," John grumbled as he hunched over the steering wheel.
Gritting his teeth, Dean sank back into the seat and refrained from saying anything else.
***
Sam thought he heard familiar footfalls but was sure that it was just wishful thinking again. He stayed curled up as much as he could and laid there. A slight scraping at the door caught his full attention. He was staring at it when all hell broke loose in the rest of the house. Luther was yelling, others were screaming.
The door swung open and Sam almost choked with surprise as Dean rushed to the bed and started cutting through the ropes.
"I've got you, Sammy." He looked at Sam's face and saw how utterly defeated he felt. "We've got to hurry. The others will take care of the nest themselves."
Struggling to his feet, Sam asked, "Others?"
"Hunters. I'll explain when we're in the car. We need to move."
Not wasting energy on nodding, Sam followed Dean as quickly as he could. Dean drug him along with an arm around his waist. Sam almost shouted when another man slung his arm around him to get him walking quicker.
"That's Abe," was Dean's short explanation.
Sam couldn't remember ever hearing about an Abe. But, Dean seemed to trust him and that was good enough for Sam.
The sunlight was blinding after being inside for so long. He squinted his eyes tight as they adjusted. When he saw the Impala, he couldn't help but sob. All those days he'd dreamed of rescue and not dared wish for it. Just the hope was enough to crush him.
"Cheryl," Sam pointed back to the house when Dean had him sitting down. "Evan."
"They're looking for other survivors," Abe assured him. "We were almost clear of the vamps when I came to help you. Sweeping for others was next in the plan."
Tipping his head back, Sam didn't even feel his head hit the back of the seat before a snore passed through his lips.
"Think he'll be okay?" Dean whispered.
Abe put a hand on his shoulder. "He has plenty of time to get there. With a brother like you, he should make it."
Dean stared at Sam's frail body and hoped it was true.
***
"He won't eat?" John asked when Dean returned with a frown on his face.
"Says he's not hungry. He only had a couple of bites."
"His stomach probably shrunk. I'm sure they didn't give him any Thanksgiving dinners when he was gone. He could be numb to hunger pains."
Dean put the dish back in the fridge before he slumped down at the peeling table in a cheap extended stay motel.
"Patience isn't your strong point but it's of utmost importance that you don't raise your voice or get irritated with Sam."
"I'd never do that."
"Just checking."
"I just wish he was more angry. That would be an improvement."
"Takes energy to be mad, Dean. I'm sure he'll get there."
***
"He wanted to keep me," Sam spoke of his confinement for the first time when Dean sat him as usual at mealtime.
"Who?"
"Luther. He said I was his. When another vamp tried to get at me, Luther got me back. I don't know what he did to Bo."
"Probably nothing more than what he deserved. They're all gone, Sam."
"We don't know that they're all gone. We thought they didn't exist before." He dared look his brother in the eye.
"The ones that hurt you and got your scent are," Dean spoke slowly so the words could sink in. "That's good enough for me."
Sam quickly broke the gaze.
Dean's heart cracked as he realized how skittish Sam was. He knew it would be a long road ahead but they had more friends than ever to help them.
Title: The One Time Dean Couldn't Save Sam
Author: my_sam_dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/character: Sam/Dean, Castiel, Bobby, Ellen
Rating: R
Prompt: 88 - drizzle - 100 prompts for thought table
Notes/Warnings: Warnings: character death, slash, incest, implied Sam/Castiel
"Sam!" Dean cried as he took the last steps toward his brother as he fell to his knees. He grabbed Sam's falling body and stared at the knife sticking out of him in disbelief. They were hunters. They were in danger on a regular basis. With all that they'd faced, a human was going to be what took Sammy down?
Slowly, Sam's eyes opened and a faint smile crossed his lips as he whispered Dean's name and collapsed into his arms.
Bobby followed Dean's voice and skidded to a halt when he saw Dean kneeling and clutching Sam. A man in the distance had turned to run, but he wasn't quick enough. The shot from Bobby's gun hit him exactly where he intended, right between the eyes. He didn't bother going to check on the stranger and ran to his boys.
"Bobby! Sam's bad off. You have to help him!"
He looked at Sam's slack face and the blade that was buried into him. Sam was like a rag doll in Dean's arms, flopping as Dean pled with Bobby to fix him. Knowing he was about to tread on hazardous ground, Bobby made his voice as sure as possible, "Let's get him back to the truck and look at him. All my supplies are there."
"Hear that, Sammy?" Dean choked though his tears. "Bobby's going to make you good as new." He struggled to his feet with Sam in his arms and had to throw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry to move him. He apologized for his rough handling and in the back of his mind he wondered why Sam wasn't complaining. Fear made him dismiss the thought and focus on moving forward.
He gently laid Sam on the seat and looked expectantly up at Bobby.
Bobby felt for a pulse in Sam's neck and, finding none, he checked Sam's wrist just to make sure. He was going though the motions so Dean wouldn't be able to look back on this horrific experience and pinpoint something else they should have done to save Sam. Bobby did all he could. When he closed Sam's vacant eyes, he was faced with a shattered Dean.
"No!" Dean screamed to the heavens. "No, Bobby!" He went to snatch Sam back and Bobby had to physically restrain him.
"Dean! He's gone." Bobby looked for any indication that he was getting though. "He's gone, Dean. That knife probably killed him instantly."
"He was fine when he fell. He knew me and called me by name. He knew I'd come for him. Sammy wouldn't leave me. Never." Dean sounded so sure of himself that he almost made Bobby doubt his conclusion.
"It wasn't his fault, Dean, and it wasn't yours. You can blame the man who stabbed him but he's already dead."
Dazed, Dean just stared at his surrogate father.
"No one can hurt him now. He isn't in his body any longer and we need to take care of him nice and proper."
Anger and terror flashed in Dean's eyes as he pictured his father's funeral pyre. "Don't you say that. Don't you dare say that. I'm getting him back, Bobby. You might have given up on him, but I haven 't."
"It's not a matter of giving up," Bobby tried to explain.
Dean threw himself out of Bobby's grasp and drew his gun. "Step away from him, Bobby."
Stunned, Bobby couldn't move.
"Don't you dare touch him. He's my baby brother. He's my Sammy."
Bobby wisely moved out of the way, hands up as if in surrender. He'd never thought he'd be at the receiving end of Dean's gun.
Stumbling forward, Dean carefully placed Sam over his shoulder. He marched past Bobby's truck and tucked Sam into the passenger seat of the Impala. The engine roared to life.
After the sound of the engine faded away, Bobby shed the shock that covered him like a cloak. He did the only thing he could think of--he drove home. That's where Dean would look for him and he wanted to be easy to find.
***
Frantically, Dean dug through the packed dirt with his pocked knife until he located the metal box. He threw the black and white picture out of the way and replaced it with one of his.
"Come and get me!" He challenged. When no one appeared, he continued to rant.
"You're giving me a headache," a beautiful woman flatly said from behind Dean. He whipped around just in time to see her eyes turn red. "Looking for me?"
"Bring him back. Take me right now if you want to, but you bring him back!"
She tried to act innocent. "Him, who?"
"Don't mess with me! Give Sam back his life!"
She clicked her tongue. "Poor, poor Dean," her words cut Dean right through. "Sam's as dead as he can be. He's not coming back."
"Yes he is! I want to deal!"
"Well, tough. I don't."
"Without him, I'll die anyway."
"I know," her eyes flashed with glee. "That's why you have to live."
She disappeared and left Dean abandoned in the middle of the crossroads.
***
Before daylight, Dean raced through the gates of the scrap yard. He pounded on the door. Bobby answered quickly. He'd been waiting for Dean.
"She wouldn't do it, Bobby. Damn bitch knew I can't survive without Sammy and was happy about it."
"She's a demon, Dean. Sounds like par for the course."
"There has to be something," he grasped for straws. "A ritual I haven't heard about or even some black magic."
"If there was one, and I'm not saying there is, do you think Sam would want to be back knowing that he was unnatural or that you lost your soul for him?"
"He'd have to be alive to know it, and that's good enough for me."
When the morning light peeked over the horizon, Dean was out cold. Bobby, knowing his devotion to his brother, had drugged the liquor he'd offered Dean. He'd been running in overdrive with Dean since Sam disappeared and he knew Dean needed the rest. And, he had to have Dean out of the way if he was going to get Sam ready.
***
Dull eyes stared ahead with no recognition as Bobby stood beside Dean as the fire burned. Dean had fought him tooth and nail. When he decided to believe Bobby, that Sam was really dead and there was no way he could bring him back, his training kicked in and he couldn't let a demon or any other being inhabit his brother's body. It was the last way he could protect Sam and feel like a big brother.
"You couldn't bury him," Bobby broke the silence. "There's no way you could chance something getting a hold of his body. You know the demons would love to use Sam against you and they'd enjoy tormenting you with his appearance."
"I know." Dean's voice had a disconnected tone. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
***
Dean kept himself in a drunken haze until Bobby refused to stock the alcohol cabinet again. Then, he begrudgingly sobered up and the pain set in.
His absolute silence scared Bobby more than his drinking had. At least his tongue had loosened up as his intoxication grew and he could tell what Dean was thinking. In the quiet, he had no clue what was going on in that kid's head. He knew he was grieving his brother's death but had no idea what Dean was planning on doing, if Dean was plotting at all.
Insomnia sank its claws into the household and tempers flew as misery loved company and there was no way to heal the hurt. Moving on was their only option and Dean was refusing to proceed in that direction. In return for Bobby's graciousness and hospitality, he struck out at the older man, well aware of what he was inflicting. He simply didn't care anymore.
***
Although it was a relief for both of them when Dean left to go back to hunting, Bobby was still concerned about Dean's state of mind. He never doubted Dean's skills as a hunter but if he didn't have enough focus to keep his head in the game it wouldn't matter how hard he'd trained. It would just be over. No second chances or do-overs. Just over.
As a courtesy to Bobby, and partially because he felt like a heel for all the shit he'd dumped on Bobby when the older man welcomed him into his home and took care of him -- made sure Dean ate, made meals as needed and reminded him to at least try to get to sleep at night--Dean phoned Bobby every other day. It didn't matter if he'd just spent the last two days driving, he still called. Not much to talk about, but it eased Bobby's mind and gave him a way to gauge how Dean was dealing.
No one else received calls from Dean. Ash, Ellen and Jo had tried to get ahold of him and just got his voicemail. He didn't return their calls. He'd cut himself off from most of the hunting community.
Days were spent recovering from the bottle he'd fallen into or the babe he'd banged overnight. Research was haphazard at best. Dean was being reckless and he didn't care. Sam was gone. His one reason to want to live in this cruel world had been ripped from him. He felt the ache every hour of every day.
***
Months passed and Dean still had messages piling up on his voicemail. He talked to Bobby regularly and had no idea why the group from the Roadhouse would be calling him. He ignored the messages until his mailbox was full and he had to delete some in case Bobby needed to leave him a message. Feeling guilty for tossing aside his friends, Dean figured he could at least listen to the last couple.
The first one he listened to was Ellen. "Dean, why the hell don't you answer your phone? It's important that I talk to you. Shit. If you don't want to talk to me, call Jo or Ash."
The next was from Jo. "How many messages have I left so far? So many that I lost count! We've been calling for a reason, Dean, and a damn good one at that. You know our numbers."
He had two women pissed off at him and he knew that wasn't a good thing. Not wanting to talk to anyone until he absolutely had to, he pointed the Impala toward the Roadhouse and drove.
***
The dirt parking lot hadn't changed. Neither had the vehicles, mostly old trucks with gun racks and storage in the bed. He rolled his shoulders and tried to work the kink out of his neck as he strode to the door.
He grabbed the handle and had only opened the door a crack when he heard a sound that sent his heart pounding. He had his gun in his hand and pointed inside when he slowly opened the door.
All conversation stopped when they saw Dean ready to shoot.
"Dean?" Ellen approached him from the side. "It's so good to see you. Want a beer?"
Dean couldn't believe what he was seeing. He knew what he'd heard and Ellen was acting as if it was business and usual. "Where is he? Where are you hiding him?"
"Who?"
"Whatever took Sam's shape, that's who! I know that voice, Ellen, and it's him. Just tell me where he is and I'll get rid of him for you."
"Get rid of him? Didn't you get any of my messages?"
Dean just looked at her with a crushed look on his face. He'd heard Sam and he was going to have to kill a carbon copy of his beloved little brother. How could she not know how hard this was on him?
"Where's. Sam." He spoke loudly and clearly.
There was a shuffle that came in the direction of the kitchen. Someone stepped through the doorway, calling something over his shoulder to someone else. Then, he noticed his brother and a wide smile with full dimples spread across his face. "Dean!"
"Stop right there!" He had Sam on the barrel end of his gun. "Who are you? What are you?"
"I'm Sam. Your brother."
His hair was longer than Sam's had been but otherwise Dean couldn't see any difference. "We burned Sam's body," Dean growled. "How did you get it?"
A skinny man stepped between the brothers and held out his hands in a placating gesture. "Dean, this really is Sam."
"Why should I believe you?"
The new man introduced himself. "My name is Castiel and I brought Sam back to life. This is really Sam, Dean."
He heard the words and wanted to believe them. He'd waited for so long to hear those words that he only heard in his dreams.
"It's just me, Dean." Sam stepped forward and took the gun from Dean's hands. "I don't know how it happened, it just did. I've been back for over a month now. We did all the tests and I'm not a shape shifter, skin walker or demon."
Tears swelled in his eyes as he choked out, "Sammy?"
Then he was grabbed in typical Sammy bear hug fashion. With Sam's arms around him, Dean wondered if he'd fallen asleep somewhere along the line and not noticed. The warmth of Sam's body next to his caused his brain to skip over the questions of how and why. He was happy to just be.
***
Awkward didn't come close to covering how Dean felt when nighttime came around. He'd been glancing at Sam when he wasn't looking, trying to figure out what Sam wanted from him. Considering that they had been everything, and I mean everything, to each other, Dean didn't know if he was welcome in Sam's bed as he had been before the whole 'going to hell' thing. Still, he was surprised when he cracked Sam's bedroom door open and saw two figures asleep on the bed.
"Sammy?"
"Dean?" Sam groggily searched around for him. He rubbed his eyes and asked, "What's the matter?"
"I wanted to, um . . . talk."
Sam untangled himself from the blankets, careful not to disturb the angel lying by his side. He rubbed his bare arms to try to warm them up against the chill. "What did you want to talk about?"
Dean tilted his head toward his room. Sam nodded and followed Dean down the hall.
"I didn't know," Dean started and then decided on another approach. "I wanted you in my bed tonight and can't tell if you want it, too."
"Yeah," Sam replied. "I mean, I'm glad I didn't give off any vibes since we don't need anyone else knowing. I wasn't sure if you were convinced I'm me."
"You're a one-of-a-kind geek," Dean looked at him lovingly. "I've missed you so much."
Always the more tactile of the two, Sam was the one who crossed the space between them and placed his hand on Dean's face. "I didn't know if you could ever love me again."
"Again? Sammy, I never stopped."
"Good. That will make me sleeping in your bed less awkward."
"Speaking of beds, why was Castiel in yours?" Dean tried to make is sound like ordinary conversation but Sam heard the words behind what Dean was saying.
"He got me out. I was a mess. He nursed me back to health and helped me get to my feet. I could never thank him enough for getting me out. I was going to lose the part of me that's human. He arrived before it could be taken from me."
"You don't owe him anything," Dean told Sam. "You didn't ask him to save you so a simple 'Thank You' should suffice."
"It's just, he's my best friend, Dean. And I know this is only going to point out how lame I am, but I've never had a best friend."
"You have me."
"But you wear many hats: brother, protector, lover, teacher and best friend."
"So I'm still more important."
"Should you and Cas just whip them out and see whose is bigger?"
"Sure, if you want to. We both know I'd win."
"Don't fight over me, Dean. I need you both. Don't make me choose one."
Unable to deny Sam of anything, he dropped the issue and welcomed Sam into his bed.
***
"What happened when you died?" Dean asked in the dark.
"I don't want to go there."
"Why can't you tell me?"
"I'm not going to talk about it."
"I need to know."
"The important thing is that I'm back. I want to catch up with life before it flies past me while I'm wallowing in the past."
***
Sam and Cas were sitting at the table with their heads bowed, speaking in hushed tones. Dean tried to hear what the subject was but they stopped their conversation before he could overhear anything pertinent.
"I was going to show Cas the stream on the back part of the property. Do you want to come with?" Sam invited him.
"I was going to wash the car. Why don't you lend me a hand?" Dean countered.
"Sure," Sam said slowly, looking at Cas and not getting any readable look from him.
Dean gathered what they'd need but only Sam was at the Impala.
"Where's Cas?"
"He's an angel. He isn't used to being around automobiles."
"Whatever."
Dean and Sam got the Impala so clean that shined.
"We deserve a beer," Dean said. "Why don't you go find that angel of yours and invite him with?"
"Meet you there."
Sam entered the saloon with a sulking Cas at his back.
Dean asked, "What's the problem?"
"This is a place of sin," Castiel said in a flat tone.
"Anyplace on earth could be a place of sin. We're just drinking at the watering hole," Dean tried to lighten the mood.
"The people here are going to get drunk and fornicate."
"That's usually how it goes," Dean nodded. "On a good night, anyway."
Castiel's face turned beet red in anger. He turned around and left.
"Why'd you have to goad him like that, Dean?"
"It was too easy."
"He's trying to be friends with you."
"He needs to shove his holier than thou attitude."
Sam glanced around. "I'd better go find him."
"Isn't he a grown man?"
"A man without a weapon and no clue how to defend himself."
"You'd better go protect that little weirdo. Who knows what kind of trouble he can stir up on his own?"
Sam sat his drink down and walked out of the Roadhouse. Dean turned his attention back to the bar. He already had a buzz going and was going to feed that feeling until he was numb. That way, he could start all over in the morning trying to figure out what Castiel was all about.
Dean was well on his way to toasted when he saw Cas come back in. He didn't think anything about it. He figured Sam had just been hanging with him outside.
Cas elbowed Dean, "Where's Sam?"
"He went looking for you. Didn't you see him?"
"Nope. When did he leave?"
The watch face looked bleary and Dean's brain was slow with calculating time at such an hour.
"He's been gone too long." Dean paid his tab and grabbed his jacket. "I'm going to look for him."
"I'm coming, too."
Dean just stared at the angel.
"I know where some of his haunts are. I just want to help."
"Fine. You keep your ass behind me and follow my orders."
When Cas saw Dean put a gun in the waistband of his pants, he decided that it was not a time to argue.
***
Sam had been beat to hell. Apparently, one of the hunters had heard of his demise and figured him for a supernatural being. Having done the same thing, Dean could see their reasoning. What he couldn't abide by, though, was the extent of his injuries. They'd found Sam and would get him back to the Roadhouse. Dean could get names and deal out vengeance later.
"You've got a shiner," Ellen said as she gently cleaned the blood from Sam's face. "Jaw is swollen and the goose egg on the back of you're head probably isn't doing you any favors. Those slices on your arms will heal up soon enough. Just keep the bandages clean."
Nodding, Sam indicated that he'd heard her.
"Sam," Ellen crouched in front of Sam so she could look him in the face. "You need anything, and I mean anything, just let me know."
Sam smiled even though it hurt. "Make Dean and Cas get along?"
"They do, Sam. They worked together to find you."
"They didn't kill each other first?"
"They put you above their petty arguing. They're putting forth an effort. That says something."
"Yeah," Sam felt a little lighter.
Dean and Cas were never going to be good friends. Dean's protective streak would clash with Castiel's, Cas was an angel and Dean, well, Dean sinned. Frequently, most of the time. Castiel would forever hold the circumstances he found Sam as a secret. Dean would never know. Likewise, Dean held the secrets of their relationship and there was no way he'd let Castiel find out.
Sam, well, sometimes he played peacekeeper. Other times he basked in the attention of the two men that cared more about him than anything in the world.