Blood Bound 10/?
Title: Blood Bound 10/?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC:17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Underage (Sam is 14), violence, non-con (not between Sam and Dean)
Summary: Samuel Singer, unable to fight off the bullies at his new school, turns to the only student that everyone fears for help: an introverted loner named Dean. Struggling to get closer to the unwilling and rebellious teen, he soon discovers that they're connected in a way that not even he can comprehend. Trying to find the truth, Sam soon realizes that some secrets were meant to remain hidden.
Bobby Singer stood in front of his bathroom mirror with a pensive look on his face, the resemblance to Sammy's faraway expressions so striking, it would have stopped the old man dead in his tracks had he not been so preoccupied with the movement of his fingers as they formed intricate knots into an unruly necktie. His thoughts kept haunting him with recollections of Sam's tears frozen in a moment of overwhelming sorrow, the words he'd used to convey his feelings playing on repeat in Bobby's head like some recurring nightmare meant to torture him. But what bothered him even more was how his mind kept turning its attention from Sam to Dean, making Bobby snort in disgust at the nagging voice in his head telling him that what he did to the Moseley kid was wrong. He didn't want to believe that, especially after discovering the boy's true origins.
Receiving a dream in the middle of the night from a bloodthirsty demon hell-bent on the destruction of the world through your only son was…shocking, to say the least. After all this time, it seemed as though Azazel had finally managed to track him down, despite his attempts to shield Sam from his prying eyes. He could still hear the voice of the treacherous demon, smooth as silk and just as menacing as the yellow orbs which twinkled with glee at the old man's obvious discomfort. Finding out that your son had just fucked his brother was one thing, but finding out that Dean was, in fact, the one person Bobby was trying so hard to keep from Sam was too much to handle. He'd tried so hard to keep both Azazel and Dean from finding Samuel, but it seemed as though all of his efforts had proven futile. Now he had his son to contend with on top of it all. There was, after all, no way in hell that Sam was going to want to stay away from Dean. Not unless the kid did something to change Sam's thoughts about him.
Looks like I'm gonna have to do somethin' about that boy…
A loud bang broke Bobby from his scheming thoughts, the incessant pounding making him frown in confusion. Walking down the stairs, he froze in horror as he took in the countenance of a very angry Missouri Moseley, her murderous glare making it quite clear that she was out for blood, or more specifically, his blood. Gulping in large lungfuls of air, he forced his fear down into the pit of his stomach and carefully unlocked the door. Before he could even think to open it, Missouri barged in and punched him in the face, the sharp knuckles hitting his nose head on. Blood gushed from between his fingers as he cupped his face with his hand, falling to the floor and looking up at the vengeful woman with tear filled eyes.
"Ow! Missouri! What the hell did you do that for?"
"Shut up!" she screamed, kicking him hard in the ribs. "You aren't going to make another peep, Bobby Singer. I'm going to speak and you're going to listen to every goddamn word I have to say. Are we clear?"
Bobby hesitated a second before nodding, ignoring the sound of Sam's footsteps as he came to the last step of the staircase, placing one hand over the newel post while staring confusedly at Missouri. The angry woman kept her eyes focused on Bobby, approaching the injured man with a scowl scary enough to ward off demons.
"I woke up last night, Bobby," she began, the stillness with which she spoke sending shivers up Sam's spine. "Do you know what I woke up to?"
Bobby shook his head, too frightened to speak.
"I woke up to my son destroying his bedroom. Lamps and dresser drawers flying everywhere, jagged pieces of glass crunching beneath his feet as he hurled a fucking knife at my head. You're lucky I ducked in time because he could have fucking killed me! There were tears in his eyes, Bobby. You know why they were there, yes?"
Bobby's face wanted to contort in anger at the mention of her wretched son, but his trepidation at the woman's reaction had him acknowledging her words in reluctance, holding her gaze as she continued to speak words he didn't want to hear.
"I heard every single word you said to him. I gotta tell ya, Bobby, with the way I'm feeling right now, you're lucky I don't kill you and make your son watch. Thank god I love Sammy too much to leave him fatherless, huh?"
When Bobby didn't answer, Missouri kicked him again, enjoying the howl of pain she received for her actions. "I kept repeating everything that you said to my son and do you know what stuck out most? Filthy…little…beast."
Sam and Bobby both watched befuddled as tears spilled down the woman's cheeks. "Did you know that Dean was abducted when he was thirteen? He got kidnapped by a bunch of child rapists. Yes, Bobby. That's exactly what I said. Child…rapists. You know what they liked to do for fun with my boy? I can't tell you how many nights that kid laid in the bed they chained him to crying out for his mama, only to be slapped across the face…hard. That was just about the time he had a cock shoved so far down his fucking throat, he couldn't breathe. He almost choked to death. That's basically what happens when someone has your nose in between their fingers while simultaneously trying to shove something into your windpipe."
Missouri stopped the pacing she'd been doing and fell into a chair in the entryway, her eyes faraway as she recounted a story so painful, Sam could feel it with every breath he took, squeezing his heart with its deathlike grip. Tears fell down the woman's cheeks, an uncomfortable cloud settling over the three occupants of the Singer household as the woman began once more, her quiet words voicing the evidence of her son's pain.
"He was raped for twelve hours straight once. Two guys held him down while one occupied his mouth, and two shoved themselves into his ass…his thirteen year old ass. He screamed as loud as he could but that didn't do a goddamn thing. They raped him over and over and over again. They put a shock collar on the boy and forced him to bark like a dog, telling him that he was worthless and that his mother was never gonna come for him. When they were inside him, they'd tell him that he was a filthy little beast and that his parents abandoned him because they knew he wouldn't amount to shit. For a while, they actually had him believing that I was the one who told them to take him, to dispose of the child that I'd rather die than love. For four years, they had him, Bobby. It wasn't until they decided they was gonna kill him that his will to survive outshined his depression and self loathing, and he somehow managed to escape once they'd opened their car door, running off into the woods where his body was supposed to be buried and outrunning them all into the city. Amazing that he was able to do that for being as malnourished as he was. See, that's the thing with my son; he's one hell of a stubborn boy. Not only that, but he's strong. He's so damn strong. He's so strong he was able to tough it out and deal with everything he'd been through, and not once did he fall over and die like anyone else would have at the words you spewed from your disgusting mouth last night. You brought back every single wretched memory that he's been trying so hard to ignore and rather than give in to the urge to put a bullet through his brain, he instead fought with everything he had in him, throwing his shit all over the place in a blinding rage."
Missouri got up and walked over to Bobby, kneeling beside him and taking his throat in her hand. "If you ever do anything to my son like that again, I will make sure you spend the rest of your life regretting it. I'll find a way to put you through every single torture Dean endured, and I'll watch the whole fucking thing go down without once interfering. Do. You. Understand?"
"Yes," Bobby whispered.
Without another word, Missouri got up, gave Sam a sorrowful smile, and walked out the front door. The room fell completely silent, the gears in Sam's brain working overtime at everything he'd just heard. When he didn't think he could stand the quiet any longer, he ran outside without a word to his father and chased down the woman who'd become like a mother to him, catching her just as she was about to pull out of the driveway.
"Sammy! What the hell are you doing out here, boy? You best go inside that house right now, ya hear?"
"I can't!" Sam exclaimed. "You can't expect me to go inside and forget everything you told my father. Not when all I can think about right now is Dean. I want to see him, Missouri. I…I have to."
Missouri sighed sadly, shutting off her engine and putting her head down. When she finally looked at Sam, it was as if the woman he'd fallen head over heels for had disappeared, leaving behind only a shell of her former self. "I know you care about Dean, Sammy. But the last thing that boy needs right now is anyone's pity. He feels weak after breaking down in front of me the way he did last night. Damn boy is already making it up by acting like the whole thing never happened and treating me like I'm his enemy. I can't stand to see my child this way and having you there…it would only cause more problems. I just…I have…to take care of my boy now. Can you understand what I'm saying, Sam? I have to put him first. I can't do that with you there. The sight of you causes too many feelings for him, honey. He's not ready to handle them yet."
Sam ignored the tears stinging his eyes and nodded, sniffling as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "I understand."
Missouri smiled. "Good. You'll see him in school on Monday. I promise you that much. Just keep away until then, okay? I love you, Samuel. You do know that, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then get back inside that house and tend to your father. Despite all his faults, he seems like a good man. Take care of yourself, hon. I'll see you soon."
Sam watched as she pulled out of the driveway and folded his arms over his chest, scowling at the empty space her car had left.
"No you won't."
"And then she just left! Told me to stay away from Dean and everything!"
Hank tried to hide his scheming smile as he sat on the edge of the mattress, watching Sam pace back and forth across his bedroom floor. Listening to his complaints, as well as his questions about the history of the town's residents was both a breath of fresh air and a curse Hank wasn't quite so eager to deal with just yet. The child's persistence would most certainly serve him well when he was on the front lines of hell's army. There was no doubt about that. But as much as the demon wanted it, he couldn't allow Sam the privilege of becoming privy to his destiny so quickly, not when he still had so much to learn. The child needed to hone his skills, to get out in the real world and take down the so-called "bad guys" long enough for the devil on his shoulder to mold him into the kind of fighting machine needed to lead his fellow brethren in the fight against the forces of light. There was no way Hank could grant him access to the many secrets hidden just beneath the surface, ready to be discovered at the hands of a meddlesome boy who was smack dab in the middle of it all. But while keeping such a perspicacious boy from the answers he so desperately sought was proving more problematic than the demon ever thought possible, it was the close ties existing with both Bobby and Missouri that was rapidly becoming Hank's own undoing. But that was something he could dwell on later, when he didn't have a troubled child in his face digging for clues he wasn't ready to discover. He had to find a way to bring him to a different direction other than the one he wanted to go in, but still in the same ballpark as the truth. As Sam kept hammering on and on about the brother he didn't know he had, Hank came up with a plan.
"Sam, I don't want you to get so bent out of shape about this whole Winchester thing. The name may ring a bell for me, but as of now, I have no idea where I've heard the name before. However, I have been meaning to tell you something for a while now about your friend, Dean. I've been a bit reluctant based on the lack of facts I've acquired, but I believe that you should know, being that you seem to be so attached to this particular boy. May I have the pleasure of sharing my news with you without being judged?"
Sam sat beside Hank on the bed with a look of pure wonderment. "Um…y-yeah, sure."
Hank sighed warily. "This may sound…strange and not at all what you're used to but I'm thinking that I can trust you with what I believe to be valuable information. It goes back to a dark secret that I don't know if you're quite ready to hear yet, but you are my friend and I'm pretty sure that I can trust you to be…discreet about what I'm about to divulge."
Hank took a deep breath, prepping himself for the myriad of emotions he was about to fake for Sam's sake before looking into the boy's eyes. Placing a hand over Sam's, he continued, "There are certain things about the world that people don't know. Well, some people do, but the rest of them ignore it. Basically, I'm talking about supernatural beings. You know, monsters under the bed and all that. As much as you probably want to believe that I'm crazy or that none of this stuff is real, it is. I assure you that not only do these things exist, but there are certain people out there who protect us from them. They're called-"
"Hunters," Sam interrupted, voice full of bewildered confusion.
Hank blinked. "You know about them." It wasn't a question.
"Hank…dad was a hunter. Still goes on hunts, as a matter of fact. He taught me some stuff about vamps, werewolves and the like. Never gave me enough information to do it on my own though. Said I was too young and that he wanted more for me."
Hank smirked to himself. He thought he was so slick, keeping the boy from me. Too bad that plan backfired.
"Wait…how do you know about hunters anyway?"
"Because I used to be one," Hank replied. "Way back when I was a young boy."
"What happened?"
"Certain circumstances prevented me from continuing on. But none of that's important. What's important is that I believe your friend just might be one of us."
Sam nearly choked on his own tongue. "You think Dean is a hunter?"
"You can't tell me it doesn't make sense, Sam. You've mentioned his fighting skills, I've seen him with certain weapons known only to hunters on more than one occasion and just the other day, I caught him following what I believed to be a Rigaru. You told me that this Missouri is a psychic so that could somehow work into the equation as well. Maybe she finds the hunts for him and he goes on them. Or…well, I suppose he could do it alone. I'm not really sure but I have this strange feeling that your boy is not who he claims to be."
Sam opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words to add to a conversation he never thought he'd be having about Dean. He supposed it made sense for a loner like Dean to be a hunter, especially with the array of books he'd discovered in the boy's bedroom pertaining to the supernatural. But if he was who Hank claimed, then Missouri was keeping one hell of a secret from Sam. Or maybe the men who'd abducted Dean weren't human, thus paving the way for the boy they'd mistreated to seek revenge and ultimately become a hero to the people of Kansas. Either way, Sam was burning for some sort of truth to it all, something that would link Dean to the same lifestyle as Bobby. If Dean was a hunter, maybe he could teach Sam how to become one as well. If he knew how to protect himself, then there would be no need for a bodyguard at school. Sam could just take out those bastards who violated him all on his own, without anyone's help. Not only that, but he could also discover the mystery behind Dean Moseley, and maybe save him from himself in the process.
"Do you think I should confront Dean about this?"
Hank furrowed his brows in thought. "Not sure that's such a good idea. Try to keep an eye on him first. You could do a little spying. I'm sure I could help you with that, if you were willing to go down that route. Maybe the clues will come together on their own. You could be a hunter too, you know. Think about it, Sam; there'd be nobody to hurt you anymore. You'd be able to protect yourself and pick up some useful skills that your father obviously doesn't plan on teaching you. You deserve to be independent, Sammy, not a maiden in distress."
Sam thought about taking out Seth and all the others who'd turned his world upside down and smiled to himself. He could be a hero. He could finally stand up to those bastards and take down others just like him. He sought vengeance, a way to personally make everyone who'd left him bruised and bloodied pay for all that they'd done. He could save others from the same cruel fate and while he was at it, destroy all the supernatural ghouls and goblins threatening to take over the world. For once in his miserable existence, he would be the strong one.
But what about Dean? Wasn't Dean the most important person of all? Shouldn't he figure out how to help him first? And what about the strong connection they both shared? Wasn't that another subject worth exploring? So many mysteries lied within seeing distance and Sam's mind was so jumbled full of possible answers that his head spun. But while he may have felt overwhelmed by it all, one thing was for sure; everything here was strategically interwoven in some way, like some kind of complicated web spun by an intelligent spider of fate intent upon devouring the flies that couldn't figure a way out of the cruel thread. Sam had to find that way, and find it he would...with Hank's help.
Sam looked up at Hank with fierce determination, all traces of the battered boy he'd become disappearing as a new strength took over his fragile bones, replacing fear with a bravery he didn't even know he had. Tonight, he was going to start getting answers, and nothing on God's green earth was going to stop him from getting what was his.
"So...when do we start?"
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC:17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Underage (Sam is 14), violence, non-con (not between Sam and Dean)
Summary: Samuel Singer, unable to fight off the bullies at his new school, turns to the only student that everyone fears for help: an introverted loner named Dean. Struggling to get closer to the unwilling and rebellious teen, he soon discovers that they're connected in a way that not even he can comprehend. Trying to find the truth, Sam soon realizes that some secrets were meant to remain hidden.
Bobby Singer stood in front of his bathroom mirror with a pensive look on his face, the resemblance to Sammy's faraway expressions so striking, it would have stopped the old man dead in his tracks had he not been so preoccupied with the movement of his fingers as they formed intricate knots into an unruly necktie. His thoughts kept haunting him with recollections of Sam's tears frozen in a moment of overwhelming sorrow, the words he'd used to convey his feelings playing on repeat in Bobby's head like some recurring nightmare meant to torture him. But what bothered him even more was how his mind kept turning its attention from Sam to Dean, making Bobby snort in disgust at the nagging voice in his head telling him that what he did to the Moseley kid was wrong. He didn't want to believe that, especially after discovering the boy's true origins.
Receiving a dream in the middle of the night from a bloodthirsty demon hell-bent on the destruction of the world through your only son was…shocking, to say the least. After all this time, it seemed as though Azazel had finally managed to track him down, despite his attempts to shield Sam from his prying eyes. He could still hear the voice of the treacherous demon, smooth as silk and just as menacing as the yellow orbs which twinkled with glee at the old man's obvious discomfort. Finding out that your son had just fucked his brother was one thing, but finding out that Dean was, in fact, the one person Bobby was trying so hard to keep from Sam was too much to handle. He'd tried so hard to keep both Azazel and Dean from finding Samuel, but it seemed as though all of his efforts had proven futile. Now he had his son to contend with on top of it all. There was, after all, no way in hell that Sam was going to want to stay away from Dean. Not unless the kid did something to change Sam's thoughts about him.
Looks like I'm gonna have to do somethin' about that boy…
A loud bang broke Bobby from his scheming thoughts, the incessant pounding making him frown in confusion. Walking down the stairs, he froze in horror as he took in the countenance of a very angry Missouri Moseley, her murderous glare making it quite clear that she was out for blood, or more specifically, his blood. Gulping in large lungfuls of air, he forced his fear down into the pit of his stomach and carefully unlocked the door. Before he could even think to open it, Missouri barged in and punched him in the face, the sharp knuckles hitting his nose head on. Blood gushed from between his fingers as he cupped his face with his hand, falling to the floor and looking up at the vengeful woman with tear filled eyes.
"Ow! Missouri! What the hell did you do that for?"
"Shut up!" she screamed, kicking him hard in the ribs. "You aren't going to make another peep, Bobby Singer. I'm going to speak and you're going to listen to every goddamn word I have to say. Are we clear?"
Bobby hesitated a second before nodding, ignoring the sound of Sam's footsteps as he came to the last step of the staircase, placing one hand over the newel post while staring confusedly at Missouri. The angry woman kept her eyes focused on Bobby, approaching the injured man with a scowl scary enough to ward off demons.
"I woke up last night, Bobby," she began, the stillness with which she spoke sending shivers up Sam's spine. "Do you know what I woke up to?"
Bobby shook his head, too frightened to speak.
"I woke up to my son destroying his bedroom. Lamps and dresser drawers flying everywhere, jagged pieces of glass crunching beneath his feet as he hurled a fucking knife at my head. You're lucky I ducked in time because he could have fucking killed me! There were tears in his eyes, Bobby. You know why they were there, yes?"
Bobby's face wanted to contort in anger at the mention of her wretched son, but his trepidation at the woman's reaction had him acknowledging her words in reluctance, holding her gaze as she continued to speak words he didn't want to hear.
"I heard every single word you said to him. I gotta tell ya, Bobby, with the way I'm feeling right now, you're lucky I don't kill you and make your son watch. Thank god I love Sammy too much to leave him fatherless, huh?"
When Bobby didn't answer, Missouri kicked him again, enjoying the howl of pain she received for her actions. "I kept repeating everything that you said to my son and do you know what stuck out most? Filthy…little…beast."
Sam and Bobby both watched befuddled as tears spilled down the woman's cheeks. "Did you know that Dean was abducted when he was thirteen? He got kidnapped by a bunch of child rapists. Yes, Bobby. That's exactly what I said. Child…rapists. You know what they liked to do for fun with my boy? I can't tell you how many nights that kid laid in the bed they chained him to crying out for his mama, only to be slapped across the face…hard. That was just about the time he had a cock shoved so far down his fucking throat, he couldn't breathe. He almost choked to death. That's basically what happens when someone has your nose in between their fingers while simultaneously trying to shove something into your windpipe."
Missouri stopped the pacing she'd been doing and fell into a chair in the entryway, her eyes faraway as she recounted a story so painful, Sam could feel it with every breath he took, squeezing his heart with its deathlike grip. Tears fell down the woman's cheeks, an uncomfortable cloud settling over the three occupants of the Singer household as the woman began once more, her quiet words voicing the evidence of her son's pain.
"He was raped for twelve hours straight once. Two guys held him down while one occupied his mouth, and two shoved themselves into his ass…his thirteen year old ass. He screamed as loud as he could but that didn't do a goddamn thing. They raped him over and over and over again. They put a shock collar on the boy and forced him to bark like a dog, telling him that he was worthless and that his mother was never gonna come for him. When they were inside him, they'd tell him that he was a filthy little beast and that his parents abandoned him because they knew he wouldn't amount to shit. For a while, they actually had him believing that I was the one who told them to take him, to dispose of the child that I'd rather die than love. For four years, they had him, Bobby. It wasn't until they decided they was gonna kill him that his will to survive outshined his depression and self loathing, and he somehow managed to escape once they'd opened their car door, running off into the woods where his body was supposed to be buried and outrunning them all into the city. Amazing that he was able to do that for being as malnourished as he was. See, that's the thing with my son; he's one hell of a stubborn boy. Not only that, but he's strong. He's so damn strong. He's so strong he was able to tough it out and deal with everything he'd been through, and not once did he fall over and die like anyone else would have at the words you spewed from your disgusting mouth last night. You brought back every single wretched memory that he's been trying so hard to ignore and rather than give in to the urge to put a bullet through his brain, he instead fought with everything he had in him, throwing his shit all over the place in a blinding rage."
Missouri got up and walked over to Bobby, kneeling beside him and taking his throat in her hand. "If you ever do anything to my son like that again, I will make sure you spend the rest of your life regretting it. I'll find a way to put you through every single torture Dean endured, and I'll watch the whole fucking thing go down without once interfering. Do. You. Understand?"
"Yes," Bobby whispered.
Without another word, Missouri got up, gave Sam a sorrowful smile, and walked out the front door. The room fell completely silent, the gears in Sam's brain working overtime at everything he'd just heard. When he didn't think he could stand the quiet any longer, he ran outside without a word to his father and chased down the woman who'd become like a mother to him, catching her just as she was about to pull out of the driveway.
"Sammy! What the hell are you doing out here, boy? You best go inside that house right now, ya hear?"
"I can't!" Sam exclaimed. "You can't expect me to go inside and forget everything you told my father. Not when all I can think about right now is Dean. I want to see him, Missouri. I…I have to."
Missouri sighed sadly, shutting off her engine and putting her head down. When she finally looked at Sam, it was as if the woman he'd fallen head over heels for had disappeared, leaving behind only a shell of her former self. "I know you care about Dean, Sammy. But the last thing that boy needs right now is anyone's pity. He feels weak after breaking down in front of me the way he did last night. Damn boy is already making it up by acting like the whole thing never happened and treating me like I'm his enemy. I can't stand to see my child this way and having you there…it would only cause more problems. I just…I have…to take care of my boy now. Can you understand what I'm saying, Sam? I have to put him first. I can't do that with you there. The sight of you causes too many feelings for him, honey. He's not ready to handle them yet."
Sam ignored the tears stinging his eyes and nodded, sniffling as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "I understand."
Missouri smiled. "Good. You'll see him in school on Monday. I promise you that much. Just keep away until then, okay? I love you, Samuel. You do know that, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then get back inside that house and tend to your father. Despite all his faults, he seems like a good man. Take care of yourself, hon. I'll see you soon."
Sam watched as she pulled out of the driveway and folded his arms over his chest, scowling at the empty space her car had left.
"No you won't."
"And then she just left! Told me to stay away from Dean and everything!"
Hank tried to hide his scheming smile as he sat on the edge of the mattress, watching Sam pace back and forth across his bedroom floor. Listening to his complaints, as well as his questions about the history of the town's residents was both a breath of fresh air and a curse Hank wasn't quite so eager to deal with just yet. The child's persistence would most certainly serve him well when he was on the front lines of hell's army. There was no doubt about that. But as much as the demon wanted it, he couldn't allow Sam the privilege of becoming privy to his destiny so quickly, not when he still had so much to learn. The child needed to hone his skills, to get out in the real world and take down the so-called "bad guys" long enough for the devil on his shoulder to mold him into the kind of fighting machine needed to lead his fellow brethren in the fight against the forces of light. There was no way Hank could grant him access to the many secrets hidden just beneath the surface, ready to be discovered at the hands of a meddlesome boy who was smack dab in the middle of it all. But while keeping such a perspicacious boy from the answers he so desperately sought was proving more problematic than the demon ever thought possible, it was the close ties existing with both Bobby and Missouri that was rapidly becoming Hank's own undoing. But that was something he could dwell on later, when he didn't have a troubled child in his face digging for clues he wasn't ready to discover. He had to find a way to bring him to a different direction other than the one he wanted to go in, but still in the same ballpark as the truth. As Sam kept hammering on and on about the brother he didn't know he had, Hank came up with a plan.
"Sam, I don't want you to get so bent out of shape about this whole Winchester thing. The name may ring a bell for me, but as of now, I have no idea where I've heard the name before. However, I have been meaning to tell you something for a while now about your friend, Dean. I've been a bit reluctant based on the lack of facts I've acquired, but I believe that you should know, being that you seem to be so attached to this particular boy. May I have the pleasure of sharing my news with you without being judged?"
Sam sat beside Hank on the bed with a look of pure wonderment. "Um…y-yeah, sure."
Hank sighed warily. "This may sound…strange and not at all what you're used to but I'm thinking that I can trust you with what I believe to be valuable information. It goes back to a dark secret that I don't know if you're quite ready to hear yet, but you are my friend and I'm pretty sure that I can trust you to be…discreet about what I'm about to divulge."
Hank took a deep breath, prepping himself for the myriad of emotions he was about to fake for Sam's sake before looking into the boy's eyes. Placing a hand over Sam's, he continued, "There are certain things about the world that people don't know. Well, some people do, but the rest of them ignore it. Basically, I'm talking about supernatural beings. You know, monsters under the bed and all that. As much as you probably want to believe that I'm crazy or that none of this stuff is real, it is. I assure you that not only do these things exist, but there are certain people out there who protect us from them. They're called-"
"Hunters," Sam interrupted, voice full of bewildered confusion.
Hank blinked. "You know about them." It wasn't a question.
"Hank…dad was a hunter. Still goes on hunts, as a matter of fact. He taught me some stuff about vamps, werewolves and the like. Never gave me enough information to do it on my own though. Said I was too young and that he wanted more for me."
Hank smirked to himself. He thought he was so slick, keeping the boy from me. Too bad that plan backfired.
"Wait…how do you know about hunters anyway?"
"Because I used to be one," Hank replied. "Way back when I was a young boy."
"What happened?"
"Certain circumstances prevented me from continuing on. But none of that's important. What's important is that I believe your friend just might be one of us."
Sam nearly choked on his own tongue. "You think Dean is a hunter?"
"You can't tell me it doesn't make sense, Sam. You've mentioned his fighting skills, I've seen him with certain weapons known only to hunters on more than one occasion and just the other day, I caught him following what I believed to be a Rigaru. You told me that this Missouri is a psychic so that could somehow work into the equation as well. Maybe she finds the hunts for him and he goes on them. Or…well, I suppose he could do it alone. I'm not really sure but I have this strange feeling that your boy is not who he claims to be."
Sam opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words to add to a conversation he never thought he'd be having about Dean. He supposed it made sense for a loner like Dean to be a hunter, especially with the array of books he'd discovered in the boy's bedroom pertaining to the supernatural. But if he was who Hank claimed, then Missouri was keeping one hell of a secret from Sam. Or maybe the men who'd abducted Dean weren't human, thus paving the way for the boy they'd mistreated to seek revenge and ultimately become a hero to the people of Kansas. Either way, Sam was burning for some sort of truth to it all, something that would link Dean to the same lifestyle as Bobby. If Dean was a hunter, maybe he could teach Sam how to become one as well. If he knew how to protect himself, then there would be no need for a bodyguard at school. Sam could just take out those bastards who violated him all on his own, without anyone's help. Not only that, but he could also discover the mystery behind Dean Moseley, and maybe save him from himself in the process.
"Do you think I should confront Dean about this?"
Hank furrowed his brows in thought. "Not sure that's such a good idea. Try to keep an eye on him first. You could do a little spying. I'm sure I could help you with that, if you were willing to go down that route. Maybe the clues will come together on their own. You could be a hunter too, you know. Think about it, Sam; there'd be nobody to hurt you anymore. You'd be able to protect yourself and pick up some useful skills that your father obviously doesn't plan on teaching you. You deserve to be independent, Sammy, not a maiden in distress."
Sam thought about taking out Seth and all the others who'd turned his world upside down and smiled to himself. He could be a hero. He could finally stand up to those bastards and take down others just like him. He sought vengeance, a way to personally make everyone who'd left him bruised and bloodied pay for all that they'd done. He could save others from the same cruel fate and while he was at it, destroy all the supernatural ghouls and goblins threatening to take over the world. For once in his miserable existence, he would be the strong one.
But what about Dean? Wasn't Dean the most important person of all? Shouldn't he figure out how to help him first? And what about the strong connection they both shared? Wasn't that another subject worth exploring? So many mysteries lied within seeing distance and Sam's mind was so jumbled full of possible answers that his head spun. But while he may have felt overwhelmed by it all, one thing was for sure; everything here was strategically interwoven in some way, like some kind of complicated web spun by an intelligent spider of fate intent upon devouring the flies that couldn't figure a way out of the cruel thread. Sam had to find that way, and find it he would...with Hank's help.
Sam looked up at Hank with fierce determination, all traces of the battered boy he'd become disappearing as a new strength took over his fragile bones, replacing fear with a bravery he didn't even know he had. Tonight, he was going to start getting answers, and nothing on God's green earth was going to stop him from getting what was his.
"So...when do we start?"