(no subject)
Okay, so here is the start of my newest project. A special thank you and credit to Hot Show, who came up with the plot bunny and pitched it to me. I loved the idea, but have to admit that I was reluctant for a while, like half an hour, as I didn’t know if I could write this. Well, she had so many ideas and I came up with so many of myself that I just have to go for this. So I hope you will like it, just try a couple chapters. Anyway, I also have to introduce and give credit to my new self-proclaimed editor (yes, she doesn’t like to be called beta), my daughter Shelby. Please do me a favor and read her note in the end, she will be tickled pink. Thank you for listening to my rambling and on to the story.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters don’t belong to me!
Warning: Spoilers up to 6.11, this story is AU.
Rating: K+
Summary: Dean is frantic, Sam is missing and Bobby is shocked. What's going on here?
Changes - New Beginnings
Chapter 1
Bobby Singer grumbled. He wasn’t happy at all. The dusting of snow the local news predicted yesterday morning had turned into a whopping 20 inches before midnight. Although it was no longer snowing, heavy winds had blown the snow to mounts up to six feet in certain places, which meant he would have to clear at least part of the drive in order to move old man Miller’s ’54 Chevy truck into the garage. He’d promised the old man last night that he would take a look at the engine this morning. Even if he wouldn’t want to work on it, he still would have cleaned the classic truck and moved it inside. It was in tip top shape and the eighty-eight year old had owned it since it had been brand new. The salvage yard owner could appreciate the attachment the senior citizen had to it. It actually reminded him of a certain Impala, whose owner treated her better than he did many of his women. Still, this didn’t mean he had to be happy about having to get up early and moving almost two feet of snow.
“Stupid South Dakota winters, should have moved to Florida when I had the chance.”
Still grumbling, he moved over to the counter to fill his empty coffee cup again. It was colder than hell out there and maybe the hot brew would keep him feeling at least a little bit warmer. Picking up the carafe, he almost dropped it to the floor when a loud thunder-like noise startled him at the same time as a light brighter than that of the sun flooded through the window. Even while shielding his eyes, the experienced hunter reached for the shot gun he kept on top of the refrigerator.
After listening for a moment, he moved towards the front of the house, noticing his current watch dog lying motionless on his side on the carpet. Usually the German shepherd, who listened to the name of Stanford, Sam came up with the ridiculous name and Bobby didn’t have the heart to change it, was not allowed inside the house. Yet during these blizzard-like conditions, which brought wind chills of -30 F with them, even a watch dog didn’t belong outside. Alarmed by the stillness of the dog, he paused for a moment, moving on only after seeing the steady rise and fall of the animal’s chest. Taking only enough time to pull on his coat, yet without ever laying down his weapon, he opened the door. In a schooled manner he made his way outside, ignoring the immediate sting of frost hitting his exposed skin as he allowed his adrenaline rush to warm him. Making sure to look in all directions and to make as little noise as possible, he looked around. Something was definitely not right here. Holding on to the gun just a little bit tighter, he continued , stopping right before turning the corner and pressing against the wall of the house.
For a moment he listened, yet there was no sound to be heard and it was dark, except of the light coming from inside the house. Finally he moved around, the gun trained toward the back door. What he saw made him stop in his tracks, his hunter instincts holding him back for only a moment before he raced towards the door.
SN SN SN SN SN
The door of the motel room slammed shut with a loud bang at the same time as Dean threw the car keys on the table. He was tired and frustrated. Right now he wanted nothing more than sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to rest anyway, he settled for a hot shower instead. Peeling his clothes off on his way to the bathroom, he turned on the shower and stepped under the hot stream. As the water cascaded over his athletic body, he allowed the warmth to relax him, yet as he did so, his thoughts floated back to the events that brought him here.
After Sam jumped into the cage, he had tried really hard to keep his promise and live a normal life. With Lisa and Ben’s help he had almost succeeded. Almost, because deep down he knew that even if his brother wouldn’t have come back soulless and wouldn’t have allowed him to get turned into a vampire, it wouldn’t have worked anyhow. He wanted a family, but without Sam he felt empty. If his brother couldn’t share in his happiness, then it meant nothing. He knew sooner or later he would have left and gone back to hunting, eventually getting killed by one of the creatures he hunted or drowned in a bottle of whiskey in some dirty motel room.
Being with Sam for the last three months had turned into utter disaster. There wasn’t even a second of peace for him, as the only thing this person had in common with his little brother was his looks. They were like complete polar opposites; RoboSam hadn’t given a bit about others, not even him, while the real Sam had always put others before himself. But it hadn’t been surprising, not really, as this Sam had lost any and all ability to experience emotions. Without remorse or even the slightest doubts and above the physical need for sleep, he had become the perfect hunter, at least in the eyes of some people. If nothing else, this had been exactly what had made Dean understand that all the ‘flaws’ his little brother had been prone to in the past. Things like asking questions first, seeing things in various shades of gray and being able to relate to the victims they had dealt with on a daily basis, had really been what had made him a first class hunter and more than anything, the awesome little brother he had been.
Damn, he had really tried to keep track of whatever RoboSam had done, but how could someone keep up with another who never got tired? So getting Sam’s soul back had become his main goal in life, had been the reason why he had put up with working for Crowley, at least until it had once again been proven that demons lie and the new king of hell had never possessed the power to make his brother whole again. If Cas wouldn’t have fried the bastard right then, he would have loved to make him suffer before killing him. As it had been, he had tried to find other ways and even after finding out that returning Sam’s soul would likely drive his brother insane, he hadn’t been able to let go. Having to visit a drooling, mumbling Sammy in a mental institute was preferable to a soulless killer living by his side. As long as his brother’s soul was in hell, he would be tortured for eternity, even after his body would die. Sam’s soul reunited with his body at least would give him the hope that maybe one day, after death, he would be healed and complete again.
RoboSam had actually been on board with the soul retrieving mission, at least in the beginning, but after overhearing Cas telling Dean it would likely fry his brother’s brain getting this particular piece of himself back and Crowley basically confirming it, he had run scared. How ironic was it that this seemed to be the only thing Sam and his soulless self had in common, not the running scared part, as the likelihood that the fear this one was capable of experiencing was anything more than animal instinct was close to nothing, but the ability to always hear things which weren’t meant for his ears.
So like always, things had gotten even more complicated after that, because trying to find a different way of getting Sam’s soul back, while at the same time keeping Cas off his back, who had continued to tell him how wrong his crusade was and also making sure his brother wouldn’t do anything stupid, was a lot more than any one person would be able to handle.
Still, he had tried. He had even toyed with an idea for a while and eventually had contacted Death, which hadn’t been as easy one would think, as usually one’s contact with Death was also one’s end of life. But with the help of an old friend of John’s, he had finally done it. He had made a deal with the Horseman and had epically failed at his part of it. Not just that, coming back to Bobby’s place, he had found RoboSam on the verge of killing their surrogate father. After knocking him out and tying him up, he had taken a moment to patch Bobby up and it had only taken those few minutes for Sam to somehow get loose and disappear into thin air.
Dean had known right then he couldn’t just let this emotionless super hunter run around and wreak havoc. So he had called Castiel to work his mojo and protect Bobby and then had taken off to find Sam. Yet it had become painfully obvious to him how little he knew this soulless freak of a brother. He always had been able to track Sammy and find him eventually, because the kid had been so easy to read. Even though it had gotten a little more difficult after he had experienced hell and Sam had gotten addicted to the demon blood, he still had known him better than he had given himself credit for. Now though, he had no idea where Sam had gone to. He had looked everywhere Sammy would have gone and had even contacted Samuel Campbell to find any clues where this Sam would go, yet over the last two weeks he hadn’t been able to even find a trace of him. If he didn’t know better, he would think that hell reclaimed the body to reunite it with its tortured soul.
The coolness of the water brought him out of his thoughts and he turned off the shower. Wrapping a towel around his lean body, he picked up his clothes on his way and threw them on the bed before putting on a clean set. Still buttoning his shirt, his cell beeped once, telling him there was a voice mail waiting for him. Peeling it out of the pocket of his dirty jeans, he punched the speed button and replayed the message.
“Dean, where are you? I need you to call me as soon as you get this.”
The older Winchester disconnected and hit another button, effectively dialing the number of the salvage yard owner. The other end was picked up before it ever rang through; telling him there definitely was something seriously wrong.
“Bobby…”
The man on the other end didn’t let him continue, “Listen, I needed you to get here yesterday!”
“What’s…”
“No time for questions, boy, just get here.”
With that the connection ended, leaving him with even more worry than before.
SN SN SN SN SN
He made the ten hour drive to Singer Salvage in seven, holding back his desire to call the older hunter more times than he could count on two hands. He knew that if Bobby didn’t take the time to fill him in right away, he wouldn’t get an answer now either. Instead he concentrated on driving. It didn’t hold back the thoughts of what might have happened though. As a hunter there were more than enough possibilities swirling around his head, yet as the brother of one soulless Sam Winchester he couldn’t help but fear the worst.
Ten minutes from his destination he pulled over and got out of the car. Walking back to the trunk, he opened the secret compartment and pulled out a silver dagger and several rounds made from consecrated iron. He stuffed the rounds in his pocket where they joined the salt ones already there, then slipped the dagger into the back of his belt beside his gun. Finally, he added a bottle of holy water before slamming the lid shut and returning to the driver’s seat to get back on the road.
The moment he entered into the drive of the salvage yard, he turned off the engine and catlike slipped out, drawing his gun and cocking it in one smooth motion. Carefully he moved towards the house, until he got to the steps to the front porch. There he paused and looked around, never lowering his weapon.
The moment he put his foot on the first step, the door to the house opened, instinctively making him train the gun on the man appearing in the doorway.
“Put that thing away, you idjit” Bobby growled, “You could have killed me!”
Dean lowered it somewhat, but never put it away, “Damn it Bobby, what’s going on? You make me drive here like a bat outta hell and now you tell me nothing happened.”
The older man looked at him for a moment, then said, “Why don’t you come in, it’s freezing out here and I don’t need all that cold air to get in.” He waited for the other hunter to pass him, before closing the door.
Dean walked to the couch, but instead of sitting down, he turned, “Okay, so are you going to tell me now, or do we continue this guessing game?”
“It ain’t that easy, boy.”
“Why not? It’s Sam, isn’t it?”
Bobby looked down, uncomfortably fiddling with his sleeve. “I found something…or should I say it found me.” He took a breath and opened his mouth to continue, when a high pitched wailing from the library interrupted him.
Dean stared at him with disbelieve, “You gotta be kidding me, a baby? What is it? Shifter? Changeling? Something else?”
“Ahem, not really” Was all the older man said, once again ogling his sleeve like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Not really? So what else could it be?”
“Damn boy, it’s a baby!”
“It’s a ba…” Dean interrupted himself, “Wait, did you just say it’s a baby? A normal human baby?”
“Yeah, you idjit, it’s a normal human baby, well almost.”
During the next second the expression on the older Winchester’s face change from shocked disbelief to one of utter amusement.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Bobby!” He laughed, tears running down his face.
“I don’t, you brainless fool, it’s not mine.” The grizzled hunter waited until he had at least some of his surrogate son’s attention, “…it’s yours!”
TBC
Hope you will stick with me. Things are not quite the way they seem, so give the next chapter a chance before you give your final judgment. Let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie
From the editor’s desk: “This little lady has a huge habit to add in lots of commas and run-ons. Excuse anything I may have missed. Anyways, you should all go get some cream soda and popcorn while reading next time. It makes your experience very enjoyable! With lots of lovely love love, Shelby :P
Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters don’t belong to me!
Warning: Spoilers up to 6.11, this story is AU.
Rating: K+
Summary: Dean is frantic, Sam is missing and Bobby is shocked. What's going on here?
Changes - New Beginnings
Chapter 1
Bobby Singer grumbled. He wasn’t happy at all. The dusting of snow the local news predicted yesterday morning had turned into a whopping 20 inches before midnight. Although it was no longer snowing, heavy winds had blown the snow to mounts up to six feet in certain places, which meant he would have to clear at least part of the drive in order to move old man Miller’s ’54 Chevy truck into the garage. He’d promised the old man last night that he would take a look at the engine this morning. Even if he wouldn’t want to work on it, he still would have cleaned the classic truck and moved it inside. It was in tip top shape and the eighty-eight year old had owned it since it had been brand new. The salvage yard owner could appreciate the attachment the senior citizen had to it. It actually reminded him of a certain Impala, whose owner treated her better than he did many of his women. Still, this didn’t mean he had to be happy about having to get up early and moving almost two feet of snow.
“Stupid South Dakota winters, should have moved to Florida when I had the chance.”
Still grumbling, he moved over to the counter to fill his empty coffee cup again. It was colder than hell out there and maybe the hot brew would keep him feeling at least a little bit warmer. Picking up the carafe, he almost dropped it to the floor when a loud thunder-like noise startled him at the same time as a light brighter than that of the sun flooded through the window. Even while shielding his eyes, the experienced hunter reached for the shot gun he kept on top of the refrigerator.
After listening for a moment, he moved towards the front of the house, noticing his current watch dog lying motionless on his side on the carpet. Usually the German shepherd, who listened to the name of Stanford, Sam came up with the ridiculous name and Bobby didn’t have the heart to change it, was not allowed inside the house. Yet during these blizzard-like conditions, which brought wind chills of -30 F with them, even a watch dog didn’t belong outside. Alarmed by the stillness of the dog, he paused for a moment, moving on only after seeing the steady rise and fall of the animal’s chest. Taking only enough time to pull on his coat, yet without ever laying down his weapon, he opened the door. In a schooled manner he made his way outside, ignoring the immediate sting of frost hitting his exposed skin as he allowed his adrenaline rush to warm him. Making sure to look in all directions and to make as little noise as possible, he looked around. Something was definitely not right here. Holding on to the gun just a little bit tighter, he continued , stopping right before turning the corner and pressing against the wall of the house.
For a moment he listened, yet there was no sound to be heard and it was dark, except of the light coming from inside the house. Finally he moved around, the gun trained toward the back door. What he saw made him stop in his tracks, his hunter instincts holding him back for only a moment before he raced towards the door.
SN SN SN SN SN
The door of the motel room slammed shut with a loud bang at the same time as Dean threw the car keys on the table. He was tired and frustrated. Right now he wanted nothing more than sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to rest anyway, he settled for a hot shower instead. Peeling his clothes off on his way to the bathroom, he turned on the shower and stepped under the hot stream. As the water cascaded over his athletic body, he allowed the warmth to relax him, yet as he did so, his thoughts floated back to the events that brought him here.
After Sam jumped into the cage, he had tried really hard to keep his promise and live a normal life. With Lisa and Ben’s help he had almost succeeded. Almost, because deep down he knew that even if his brother wouldn’t have come back soulless and wouldn’t have allowed him to get turned into a vampire, it wouldn’t have worked anyhow. He wanted a family, but without Sam he felt empty. If his brother couldn’t share in his happiness, then it meant nothing. He knew sooner or later he would have left and gone back to hunting, eventually getting killed by one of the creatures he hunted or drowned in a bottle of whiskey in some dirty motel room.
Being with Sam for the last three months had turned into utter disaster. There wasn’t even a second of peace for him, as the only thing this person had in common with his little brother was his looks. They were like complete polar opposites; RoboSam hadn’t given a bit about others, not even him, while the real Sam had always put others before himself. But it hadn’t been surprising, not really, as this Sam had lost any and all ability to experience emotions. Without remorse or even the slightest doubts and above the physical need for sleep, he had become the perfect hunter, at least in the eyes of some people. If nothing else, this had been exactly what had made Dean understand that all the ‘flaws’ his little brother had been prone to in the past. Things like asking questions first, seeing things in various shades of gray and being able to relate to the victims they had dealt with on a daily basis, had really been what had made him a first class hunter and more than anything, the awesome little brother he had been.
Damn, he had really tried to keep track of whatever RoboSam had done, but how could someone keep up with another who never got tired? So getting Sam’s soul back had become his main goal in life, had been the reason why he had put up with working for Crowley, at least until it had once again been proven that demons lie and the new king of hell had never possessed the power to make his brother whole again. If Cas wouldn’t have fried the bastard right then, he would have loved to make him suffer before killing him. As it had been, he had tried to find other ways and even after finding out that returning Sam’s soul would likely drive his brother insane, he hadn’t been able to let go. Having to visit a drooling, mumbling Sammy in a mental institute was preferable to a soulless killer living by his side. As long as his brother’s soul was in hell, he would be tortured for eternity, even after his body would die. Sam’s soul reunited with his body at least would give him the hope that maybe one day, after death, he would be healed and complete again.
RoboSam had actually been on board with the soul retrieving mission, at least in the beginning, but after overhearing Cas telling Dean it would likely fry his brother’s brain getting this particular piece of himself back and Crowley basically confirming it, he had run scared. How ironic was it that this seemed to be the only thing Sam and his soulless self had in common, not the running scared part, as the likelihood that the fear this one was capable of experiencing was anything more than animal instinct was close to nothing, but the ability to always hear things which weren’t meant for his ears.
So like always, things had gotten even more complicated after that, because trying to find a different way of getting Sam’s soul back, while at the same time keeping Cas off his back, who had continued to tell him how wrong his crusade was and also making sure his brother wouldn’t do anything stupid, was a lot more than any one person would be able to handle.
Still, he had tried. He had even toyed with an idea for a while and eventually had contacted Death, which hadn’t been as easy one would think, as usually one’s contact with Death was also one’s end of life. But with the help of an old friend of John’s, he had finally done it. He had made a deal with the Horseman and had epically failed at his part of it. Not just that, coming back to Bobby’s place, he had found RoboSam on the verge of killing their surrogate father. After knocking him out and tying him up, he had taken a moment to patch Bobby up and it had only taken those few minutes for Sam to somehow get loose and disappear into thin air.
Dean had known right then he couldn’t just let this emotionless super hunter run around and wreak havoc. So he had called Castiel to work his mojo and protect Bobby and then had taken off to find Sam. Yet it had become painfully obvious to him how little he knew this soulless freak of a brother. He always had been able to track Sammy and find him eventually, because the kid had been so easy to read. Even though it had gotten a little more difficult after he had experienced hell and Sam had gotten addicted to the demon blood, he still had known him better than he had given himself credit for. Now though, he had no idea where Sam had gone to. He had looked everywhere Sammy would have gone and had even contacted Samuel Campbell to find any clues where this Sam would go, yet over the last two weeks he hadn’t been able to even find a trace of him. If he didn’t know better, he would think that hell reclaimed the body to reunite it with its tortured soul.
The coolness of the water brought him out of his thoughts and he turned off the shower. Wrapping a towel around his lean body, he picked up his clothes on his way and threw them on the bed before putting on a clean set. Still buttoning his shirt, his cell beeped once, telling him there was a voice mail waiting for him. Peeling it out of the pocket of his dirty jeans, he punched the speed button and replayed the message.
“Dean, where are you? I need you to call me as soon as you get this.”
The older Winchester disconnected and hit another button, effectively dialing the number of the salvage yard owner. The other end was picked up before it ever rang through; telling him there definitely was something seriously wrong.
“Bobby…”
The man on the other end didn’t let him continue, “Listen, I needed you to get here yesterday!”
“What’s…”
“No time for questions, boy, just get here.”
With that the connection ended, leaving him with even more worry than before.
SN SN SN SN SN
He made the ten hour drive to Singer Salvage in seven, holding back his desire to call the older hunter more times than he could count on two hands. He knew that if Bobby didn’t take the time to fill him in right away, he wouldn’t get an answer now either. Instead he concentrated on driving. It didn’t hold back the thoughts of what might have happened though. As a hunter there were more than enough possibilities swirling around his head, yet as the brother of one soulless Sam Winchester he couldn’t help but fear the worst.
Ten minutes from his destination he pulled over and got out of the car. Walking back to the trunk, he opened the secret compartment and pulled out a silver dagger and several rounds made from consecrated iron. He stuffed the rounds in his pocket where they joined the salt ones already there, then slipped the dagger into the back of his belt beside his gun. Finally, he added a bottle of holy water before slamming the lid shut and returning to the driver’s seat to get back on the road.
The moment he entered into the drive of the salvage yard, he turned off the engine and catlike slipped out, drawing his gun and cocking it in one smooth motion. Carefully he moved towards the house, until he got to the steps to the front porch. There he paused and looked around, never lowering his weapon.
The moment he put his foot on the first step, the door to the house opened, instinctively making him train the gun on the man appearing in the doorway.
“Put that thing away, you idjit” Bobby growled, “You could have killed me!”
Dean lowered it somewhat, but never put it away, “Damn it Bobby, what’s going on? You make me drive here like a bat outta hell and now you tell me nothing happened.”
The older man looked at him for a moment, then said, “Why don’t you come in, it’s freezing out here and I don’t need all that cold air to get in.” He waited for the other hunter to pass him, before closing the door.
Dean walked to the couch, but instead of sitting down, he turned, “Okay, so are you going to tell me now, or do we continue this guessing game?”
“It ain’t that easy, boy.”
“Why not? It’s Sam, isn’t it?”
Bobby looked down, uncomfortably fiddling with his sleeve. “I found something…or should I say it found me.” He took a breath and opened his mouth to continue, when a high pitched wailing from the library interrupted him.
Dean stared at him with disbelieve, “You gotta be kidding me, a baby? What is it? Shifter? Changeling? Something else?”
“Ahem, not really” Was all the older man said, once again ogling his sleeve like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“Not really? So what else could it be?”
“Damn boy, it’s a baby!”
“It’s a ba…” Dean interrupted himself, “Wait, did you just say it’s a baby? A normal human baby?”
“Yeah, you idjit, it’s a normal human baby, well almost.”
During the next second the expression on the older Winchester’s face change from shocked disbelief to one of utter amusement.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Bobby!” He laughed, tears running down his face.
“I don’t, you brainless fool, it’s not mine.” The grizzled hunter waited until he had at least some of his surrogate son’s attention, “…it’s yours!”
TBC
Hope you will stick with me. Things are not quite the way they seem, so give the next chapter a chance before you give your final judgment. Let me know what you think. Hugs, Vonnie
From the editor’s desk: “This little lady has a huge habit to add in lots of commas and run-ons. Excuse anything I may have missed. Anyways, you should all go get some cream soda and popcorn while reading next time. It makes your experience very enjoyable! With lots of lovely love love, Shelby :P