Hunter Rising, 9/? (R) Dean, Sam, OC
Title: Hunter of the Shadows Book 2: Hunter Rising
Genre: Gen (AU)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Supernatural and it's characters do not belong to me. All original characters do.
Spoilers: Season One and Two, although the exact sequence of events and the circumstances are considerably different.
Summary: Join Sam, Dean and Tobius where we left them in Book 1. This time, they will need to be stronger than ever if they are to survive the coming months.
Authors Notes: Many thanks to Phx for the beta and for her invaluable help and support.
In Honour of Darksupernatural’s birthday.
Chapter Nine
Now…
Sam's sound asleep, head nestled in his pillow and breathing softly through his slightly open mouth. A half empty plate of chopped meat lies on the bed next to him, which is very quickly scooped up before it can slide off onto the floor.
"I'm just glad he ate something, even if he was mostly asleep while chewing," Dean smiles a little and nods. "Can't complain at half a plate, especially when he's finally managed to keep it down."
Obviously deciding it wasn't right to let perfectly good food go to waste, Dean snacks on the left overs with every sign of enjoyment, talking to the camera as he does so. It's not a pretty sight, but the watcher is more than accustomed to witnessing Dean's sometimes less than delicate eating habits by now (and if one recalls a certain pizza slice from a long ago journal entry, this should come as no surprise).
"Damn near crapped myself right there and then when Sammy told me Meg was nearby," Dean acknowledges with an embarrassed chuckle. "I thought our luck had run out, until Sire took over the discussions. The whole thing was pretty strange. Meg seemed almost scared of him, though we all knew she could throw him around like a baseball if she wanted. I could argue that maybe she was worried how Sam would react if she hurt his family, whether or not the kid could kick her skinny ass, but I'm not sure. I think she genuinely held some respect for Tobius."
A soft snort from off camera catches Dean's attention and Tobius speaks up.
"That's because werewolves were once as evil as she, and, old fashioned that hell spawn are, they still believe we can be tempted back." Another snort. "They'd love to have us as allies again. Also, demon though she may be, Meg wasn't entirely sure she'd be fast enough to stop me ripping out her throat," there's the sound of someone rubbing themselves down, perhaps with a towel, then "I suspect she's grown rather fond of her present packaging."
Suddenly, a towel is flung across the room and lands on an indignant Dean's head.
"Hey! Cut that out!"
"Just get on with your 'Dear Diary' session and get some sleep!"
Dean grumbles at that. "Ain't a diary… girls use diaries…"
A deep, menacing growl interrupts him.
"Alright!" Dean snaps back, but respectfully so.
Then…
I felt Sam shudder beside me, and pushed against him comfortingly.
S'ok. Tobius is about to change all that.
I fail to see how, he replied, miserably.
Just watch, and listen.
"I thought you hell spawn only worked by influencing people's choices," Tobius mused aloud. "Watching the poor souls drown in the quagmire of their own bad decisions."
Meg shrugged. "This is true. We prefer it that way. It shows up human weaknesses for what they really are: excuses for their own selfishness." She smiled slightly, the tip of her tongue appearing between her teeth. "Humans don't need much of a nudge in the wrong direction, but werewolves…" Meg clicked her tongue. "You guys are another matter altogether. You don't have the same weaknesses as humans, but you do have weak spots. For example, you'll do anything for your pack, including kill or be killed, and though you will bear the burden of guilt for it, you won't let that stop you. My father would rather let this become Sam's choice, but he wants the kid so badly he'll use force if he has to."
"And what does he want Sam for, exactly?" Tobius asked the question we all wanted to know the answer to but, predictably, Meg wasn't going to bite.
"Sorry," she shrugged again, almost coyly. "Even I'm not privy to that information. But I'm guessing it's a seat of power within hell itself."
"Hmm. That would make sense," Tobius grinned suddenly. "Then you'll be most interested to know that you have a lone ranger in your camp."
Meg laughed softly, clearly not catching on. "Excuse me?"
The ancient werewolf leaned in to her again, watching her face carefully, his grin fading a little. "Jake didn't just confront us, and he certainly wasn't trying to take Sam by force, or use his pack as leverage."
Meg's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and her smug face fell. "Then, what?"
Tobius' own eyes glowed brilliant green, and the sudden flash of anger sent Meg staggering backwards.
"He tried to kill my son, and my grandson!" he stalked the bitch, pacing slowly forward, head lowered, eyes fixed on her in a deathly glare. "And you have the nerve to come here, demanding to see Sam?"
"I-we didn't… know this," replied Meg, now calmly standing her ground in the face of the angry werewolf.
"Call him off!" Tobius barked out, sharply. "Take away his powers!"
Meg shook her head, firmly. "Can't be done."
"What the hell do you mean it can't be done?" Sire practically roared, "Azazel did this to him, gave him these powers, surely they can be taken away."
"They can never be removed," Meg answered, now beginning to sound a little angry herself. "Haven't you learned anything? Sam was human, and Dean turned him into a werewolf! That single act alone severed my father's blood link with the kid, but it didn't take away his powers, and that alone is a reason to want him back."
A shiver went through me. She was right, had to be. It made perfect sense.
Dammit!
This is bad, Dean.
Yeah…
"Can't you rein him in, somehow?" Tobius demanded.
"No." Meg's answer was terrifyingly blunt, and somehow I knew she was still telling the truth. "Jake has his own agenda now, and there's nothing we can do about it. He's setting himself up as a rival and that's why he wants Sam dead. In the end, it will probably come down to pistols at dawn, so to speak," she added with an amused smile, echoing Sire's earlier words. Meg chuckled. "You boys have got one hell of a competition on your hands."
That also made horrific sense.
Demon and werewolf regarded each other with suspicion, whilst Sammy and I stayed back, hidden in the shadows, watching and waiting.
Tobius watched her shrewdly, his eyes narrowed.
"You've created a monster that even you are afraid of!" Sire announced, angrily.
And it seemed that Meg had no answer. Even looked a little scared, like it hadn't occurred to her before.
Boys. You'd better come out. Sire called to us, sounding as tired and fed up as we felt.
Nudging Sam behind and to the side of me, keeping as much distance between him and the demon bitch as possible, we trotted under the walkway towards Sire, slipped into the motel room, and changed. Sam stood behind me, scrabbling for clothes, not happy about revealing his naked body to Meg, but not wanting to miss a word.
Me? I'm an exhibitionist, and not above showing the evil bitch just what she was missing out on. Gloating is not a pretty trait, but when it comes to hell spawn I have no problem with it. I stood straight and proud, feet shoulder width apart and arms folded, staring deep into her black, demonic eyes.
Her lips twitched into another more feral smile. She sure liked what she saw. Girl had good taste… for a demon. But when she shifted, trying to get a peak at Sam around me, I pushed Sam further back into the room.
Get dressed, Sammy, now!
"You're very protective of your brother… or should I say, son," she smirked. "That's good. Very good in fact. We need you to keep the boy alive from now on."
I growled angrily. "What you think I've been doing since the day he was born, bitch!"
Meg's responding grin wasn't pretty. "You mean, apart from those six months after you ran out on him? Left him at the mercy of John Winchester?" she had the nerve to step into my personal space. "Didn't do such a grand job back then, huh? Oh yeah, Johnny told me all about it. He's having a great time downstairs, by the way. Says he can't wait to see his boys again."
Tobius stepped in before I could rip her to pieces.
"Enough!" he snapped, and glared at the demon. "Do we have an agreement?"
Meg tilted her head to the side. "I don't see we have any other choice," she nodded, reluctantly. "Very well. We'll leave you guys alone. Can't guarantee much about the other kids, though we'll try and rein them in…
Yeah, I bet you'll try real hard! I felt rather than saw Sire's slight nod of agreement.
"…but you have our word that until Jake is… neutralized, you won't be hearing from us." Meg sounded all matter of fact and business like. "All you have to do is keep Sam safe until we come for our… needs."
And didn't that leave an open-ended question?
Like who was supposed to neutralise Jake, exactly?
It seemed she had the answer all ready, and none of us liked it.
"Sam is the only one of you capable of taking him on, by the way, so don't go into any situation blind." But there was something distinctly shifty about the way she said it, like she was hiding something. Huh. No surprises there.
"Aw. That almost sounds like you care 'bout little ol'us!" I snorted, derisively.
"No, I don't. But Sam does." Meg waggled her fingers at me and smiled a little too smugly. "And we'll remember this, Dean. I can promise you that."
She turned her back on us and walked away, melting into the shadows on the far side of the parking lot.
"Why do I get the feeling we've just made a deal with the devil?" Sam murmured quietly, sounding every bit as worried as I felt.
I shouldered my way passed him into the room, and rummaged through my duffle for some clean clothes. I had no answer to that, and didn't know how to comfort him. Because that was exactly how it felt.
Bargaining with the devil.
No. We haven't made any deals, pups. Tobius closed the door behind us. They haven't offered to save us, or given us anything of substantial use.
He sat down on the bed nearest the door and leaned over a sleeping Andy, checking his pulse.
They've merely given us a reprieve because it's convenient for them to do so, and it serves their purpose. We serve their purpose, he added, somewhat bitterly, for now.
"I feel like some kind of damn merchandise in a mafia power struggle!" Sam began pacing the room, up and down, up and down, and running a hand through his hair in frustration. A hand that was noticeably shaking.
"Hey!" I grabbed his shoulders on the next pass and kept him from moving. "I know you're scared, dude. We all are, but Sire's right. It's not perfect but it is one less problem to worry about."
"But, guys!" Sam's gaze flitted back and forth between Tobius and me in panic. "You've seen what Jake can do! He nearly killed us… and she says only I stand a chance of defeating him?" He bared his teeth in a snarl, backed away, and slammed his fist into the wall, sending up showers of plaster dust. "What a crock of shit!"
That last word was yelled in despair at the top of his lungs, and breaking our hearts in one easy lesson.
I didn't have anything to add to that, so I just pulled him away from the wall and into my arms, feeling his silent tears dampening my tee shirt.
You're forgetting one thing, Tobius spoke up quietly, from his position beside Andy. We've also seen what you can do, Sam. How you used your TK skills to take on Jake… all I'm suggesting is, it's perfectly possible that Meg is right. After all, you must be Azazel's favourite for a reason, to the extent that you even outrank someone as powerful as Jake. You're further up the chain of command than you realise, young pup.
That was supposed to be comforting and in a way, I guess it was. But I'm not sure Sam was taking much comfort from it.
The poor kid just shook his head, and clung on to me tighter than ever.
"Wha's goin'on?" a drowsy, confusion laced voice spoke up from one of the beds.
Andy was blinking up at us, head wobbling on his neck like it was attached only by a broken spring. His face was worryingly pale, eyes bloodshot, and he looked scared half to death. "Who w-was th-that g-girl?"
Tobius smiled down at the kid. "No one for you to worry about, son. Go back to sleep. We'll be leaving in the morning, and you'll be starting a new life with some friends of ours." He pulled a syringe from our first aid kit and filled it with the herbal pain meds.
"Huh?" Andy blinked again, clearly still not on the same wavelength as the rest of us. He glanced wearily down at his arm when the needle slid in, and watched with a strange kind of fascination as Sire depressed the plunger. Two seconds later, he was fast asleep, dreaming the dreams of the heavily drugged.
"Wait." I called, a suspicion forming. "He can't still be concussed." My eyes narrowed accusingly. "You've been keeping him doped up these last few days."
"Couldn't risk the little bugger running away and getting himself killed." Tobius grinned, unashamedly. "Jake would have been after him like a shot. I doubt he'd have lasted more than half a day after what happened."
Guy had a point there. Andy was a little strange, but he was a good kid, and a life with the werebears was exactly what the doctor ordered. He'd be free to happily roam the mountains, whilst living with a family that would love and take care of him. And who knew? Maybe one day, when the loss of Talia had faded a little, and didn't hurt him quite so much, he'd find a werebear girl of his own to settle down with.
Or maybe I was just channelling my own hopes for Sam, when this nightmare was finally over. Whatever it was, it goes back to that whole thing I was telling you about hope, right?
Guess that means I haven't given up completely.
Yet.
We made one last stop at civilization before heading into the mountains. Andy was allowed to wake up fully by this point, with no further drug intervention, so he was able to join us for dinner at Leopold's Steakhouse.
It was a cosy little place with old English oak furniture, a huge granite fireplace filled with blazing pine logs, and carriage style lanterns on every table. There was no electrical lighting, with only the glow of the log fire and lanterns providing a dimly lit, intimate atmosphere that made us relax and more than a little sleepy.
In spite of having finished off the cold remains of the rabbit pie a couple hours ago, we were all starving hungry, and looking forward to juicy 32oz steaks, dripping with garlic butter and coated in blue cheese sauce.
Andy ordered a damn tofu steak, much to my disgust, and it was only the warning glance from Sam that kept me from making an issue out of it.
"I rather like this little place," Tobius announced, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of wine. "We shall have to come back."
Sam nodded in agreement. "Assuming the food's any good."
"Judging by the smell, I'd say that's an affirmative," I said, sniffing the air furiously.
Andy said nothing, just gazed into the fire.
"More wine anyone?" Tobius lifted the bottle.
Does this conversation seem a little strained to you? 'Cos it sure did to me.
But there was good reason. This was the aftermath of a heated… uh… discussion in the car. And it started with…
"So where you taking me?" This was Andy.
"Somewhere safe." This was Tobius.
Andy had clicked his tongue, nodded a few times, clicked his tongue some more, then…
"You're not big on giving out information, huh?" He'd then leaned forward and rested his hands on Sire's seat back, and I watched him from the corner of my eye. "Where's 'safe' exactly?"
Tobius had huffed gently. "With some friends of ours."
"Dude!" Andy made the mistake of grasping Sire's arm. "Where?"
Ever the beta and pack bodyguard, I barked out an instinctive warning. "Hey! No touching our alpha!"
"Dean," Tobius murmured, sounding amused. "It's fine. Andy wasn't to know and he's hardly a threat, after all."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Sam warned. "You haven't seen him in full on interrogation mode. Dude could scare the Gestapo!"
Tobius had raised a meaningful eyebrow. "How much would you want to bet upon that?"
Hmm. Yet another mysterious hint at Tobius' past?
Andy had frowned good naturedly at Sam, feigning offence. "I just like to know where I stand, ok?"
Tobius sighed, and turned to look Andy straight in the eye.
"They're a family of werebears, three in fact. Gerald, Josey, and their young daughter Janaya-Maria..." Seeing the rather disturbed expression on the kid's face, he softened his voice. "They're extremely kind, gentle and generous. And they'll keep you out of trouble, youngster."
Andy's mouth opened, in protest for sure, but snapped shut on seeing the warning on Sire's face. Clearly he caught the not-so-subtle undertone of you're on thin ice already, lad, do not try my patience.
Yeah. You didn't need thought projection to pick up on it, either.
"Ok," Andy had nodded shakily. "I guess I'm going to the mountains to live with the three bears." He'd blinked and muttered. "Can't believe I just said that out loud!"
So yeah, kid was a little put out but grudgingly accepted that it was in his best interests.
His softly added "Sure hope Goldilocks ain't there, or I'm in real trouble" had me stifling laughter.
It wasn't until our steaks arrived that he spoke up again in a small voice.
"What about my wheels?" he asked, referring to his cool black van, left behind at the scene of our confrontation with Jake. Andy cast a hopeful gaze around the table, finally settling on Tobius. "Everything I own is in that van."
Tobius wiped his mouth on a napkin and smiled gently at the boy. "It's been taken care of. A friend of ours is towing it back to his salvage yard even as we speak."
That was news to Sam and me. Sire must have made the call to Bobby while we were out rabbit hunting.
"He'll look after it won't he?" Andy asked, worriedly. "That van's custom made. I'd die if anything happened to her."
"Calm yourself," Sire laughed, softly. "Mr Singer will guard it with his very life, I'm sure. He even promised to fix the problem with the transmission, and perform a full service complete with oil and filter change."
Andy sat upright, looking brighter already. "Wow! Really? That's real nice of him," he gazed hopefully at Tobius yet again. "I don't suppose he'll fit new spark plugs too? Only…"
Tobius lifted a hand to forestall any more babbling. "I'm sure he's got it covered. Now, eat your dinner before it gets cold." Doesn't this child ever shut up?
No. Came Sam's firm answer.
Of course the kid wasn't going to let it end there. Through the next few minutes my neck itched. I could almost feel the build up. One look at Andy's face confirmed it.
Sam and I were busy chewing happily, watching Sire and the kid with ill-concealed amusement, when Andy opened his mouth again.
"You think he'll get me a new fluffy dice for the rear view mirror? Only, the string snapped on it last week."
Sire looked utterly bemused. What in God's name is a fluffy dice?
In truth I had no answer for him. That wasn't something I'd even consider for the Impala.
"Excuse me?" Sire attempted to find out for himself.
"Gotta have a fluffy dice, ya know, for luck," Andy mumbled, petulantly. "Just not the same without it."
"I don't think…" Tobius began, and spluttered indignantly when he was interrupted, which was something he just wasn't used to. Who on Earth does this child think he is?
I smothered a snort.
"It doubles as an air freshener," Andy continued as though Sire hadn't even spoken. "Living in a van, ya know? It can smell pretty thick in there after a while."
"But…" Sire tried again, unsuccessfully.
Bloodybuggeringhell!
"And keeping the windows open just don't always work…"
To which I responded with another snort. Kid just can't take a hint.
Tobius looked like a wolf in severe distress. "Dean! Pass me the salt please!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Uh… ok. S'not like you to add salt to your food," I observed, passing it over.
"Not for me!" Tobius waved the salt seller under Andy's nose. "But one more word about that bloody van and I'll stuff it in his mouth."
Sam, trying not to laugh, choked on a piece of steak. Give the poor little guy a break. He's bound to be worried. That van's his baby!
"Too much salt is bad for you," Andy, completely unconcerned by the threat, picked up his own fork and waved it under Sire's nose. "Guy your age should know better."
"A guy my age?" Tobius spluttered again. I can't believe I'm being lectured by a mere child! "You impertinent little…"
That had me chuckling. Aw, Tobius. Never seen anyone get your goat quite like this before. Kid could teach me a thing or two!
Don't even think it!
It was strange. I'd never noticed it before, but there appeared to be a thick purple vein pulsing away on Sire's forehead.
"Ok! I'll order some more wine, huh?" Sam announced cheerily, unsuccessfully trying to keep from laughing.
I felt sure Andy's response would have been something along the lines of 'Should you guys really be drinking and driving?' but we'll never know, because it was stifled when Tobius raised a hand and gently clamped it over the kid's mouth. He glared at the boy, but we could all see a slight twitch at the corner of his own mouth. Yeah, in spite of himself, Sire liked the kid.
"Yes, he'll top up the brake fluid, yes, he'll fix the squeaky wiper blade, and yes, he'll bring the van up into the mountains for you once he's done." That glare intensified. "Are you quite satisfied, now?"
Andy, mouth still covered by Sire's large hand, nodded carefully, eyes wide and curious, but no trace of fear.
Had to admire him. Kid had a hide like a rhino.
"Excellent!" Tobius, satisfied at last, removed his hand, picked up his fork and continued eating as though nothing had happened. Maybe now he's shut up we can eat our dinner in peace.
I smirked. Wouldn't bet on that.
Andy stared at his own food for a long moment. I saw the look on his face, the twitch in his jaw… kid was just stupid enough to ask another question. But I saw Sam's hand move to Andy's thigh and squeeze just hard enough to make a point. A silent you've had your fun now drop it.
"Ow!" Andy flinched over-dramatically, glared at Sam, but got the hint, finally, and stayed quiet for the most part.
And the hint, should you ever find yourself in non-lunar company, is that werewolves resent putting their food on hold for conversation at the dinner table. Food, especially good food, comes first and, in any case, if we have something important to say we thought project. Of course, poor Andy wasn't to know that.
Sam eventually sat back, rubbed his flat belly in contentment and declared
"That was delicious," he smiled shyly.
Sire and I chuckled, knowing full well what was coming.
"Uh… could I order another?" Sam added in a small voice. "M'still hungry."
"I think I'll join you, as a matter of fact," Tobius answered, and glanced at me inquiringly. "Dean?"
"You even need to ask?" I responded with a grin. "Make that two."
Andy's fork clattering to the plate grabbed our attention, and the kid looked a little unnerved at being in the steady sights of three hungry werewolves. That didn't stop him, however.
"Whoa, dudes!" he exclaimed in amazement, and stared down at his own food. The tofu steak was only half-eaten. His gaze switched from his plate, to each of our empty plates in turn, eyes wide. "Between you, you guys have eaten, like, an entire cow already!"
His plate examination came to a close, and Andy eyed us with admiration. "And you've still got room for more?"
Tobius cleared his throat, and grinned smugly. "Werewolves have an exceptionally high metabolic rate; we need a lot of fuel."
At least he's not asking about his van anymore. It's a start…
"No kidding!" Andy peered up at Sam. "Dude, how'd you survive, ya know, during that business with my twin? I mean, all you seemed to eat was stuff that had been microwav…OW!"
He glared at Sam. "What was that… ouch!"
My gaze hardened and flitted between an annoyed Andy and a very shifty looking Sam. Sam? What's he talking about?
Nothing. Take no notice.
Sam!
Sam fixed Andy with a glare of his own and gave a slight shake of the head, but it was too late. Sire and I had already caught on.
"Sam?" I turned fully in my seat to face him and folded my arms, eyes narrowed. "Care to finish what you interrupted?"
Seriously, it was like being in the School Principal's office. With Sire and me as the Principals.
Scowling deeply, Tobius followed suit, glowering at the young werewolf with his head dipped down. "Hm. Yes. Do tell," he said, flatly.
Sam flushed scarlet and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh… um… I didn't have a whole lot of time between each vision," he mumbled. "The visions themselves were pretty horrific, not to mention crippling, Andy's brother was trying to kill Tracy, and… and…" his flush was now almost purple. "Iatemicrowavefood!" came out in a breathless whisper.
Here's another little known fact about non-lunars. We don't eat food that's been either defrosted, cooked or reheated in a microwave, unless desperate. Microwaving chemically alters all the essential nutrients required to keep our joints supple and our muscles from seizing up during a change. Microwaving renders the 'food' useless to us. Sure, it'll fill our stomachs, but is of little nutritional value. In the long term, a werewolf on a poor diet suffers severe stress, attention deficit disorder and weight loss.
Insomnia becomes a big issue, and what little sleep is actually achieved becomes plagued by nightmares.
I'd seen almost similar effects when Jo Harvelle put a hex on Sam back in college. It sent him into a black despair that had him pining for his family; he quit eating altogether, and stopped changing. It nearly drove him insane.
And there's another complication to consider. Recovery and healing post injury can be severely depleted and slow for quite some time afterwards.
Which was why, in light of Andy's slip of the tongue, Tobius and I were damned furious with Sam.
Given that Andy was unlikely to have known about the effects of microwaved food on non-lunars, I'd have to guess that Sam had barely eaten whilst hunting down his visions behind our backs, which only added to his crime: microwave food, and little else.
Kid knew better than that. But this was classic Sam, jumping in head first without thought for his own safety.
It's stupid and reckless, and it scares the living crap out of me.
Well that sure explains why your legs took so long to heal, huh Sam? I drawled, sarcastically.
That was extremely unwise, young pup, Tobius growled in our heads, and I wondered, not for the first time, if Sire had gone beyond mere thought projection and actually read my mind this time.
Sam sighed. Yeah, I know, but I really didn't have a lot of choice, guys. There was just too much going on.
Pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration, I resisted the urge to thump him upside the head. And that's another reason why you should've told us what was going on! I yelled silently.
Sam flinched. I'm sorry, Dean…
Ya know what? Never mind. My hand fell away, formed a fist and lightly bumped the table. What's done is done.
But I couldn't bring myself to look at him again that evening.
We carried on eating our extra order of steak in silence, even Andy finally sensing this was the wrong time to open his mouth. Occasionally, I could feel Sam's mournful gaze on me, but I refused to acknowledge it. At least he didn't try to thought project. I might have walked out altogether right then if he had.
I love that kid, but God! He can make me so damn mad at him!
Eat up. We're leaving. Tobius sounded about as pissed off as I felt. But we'll be talking about this later!
By the time we finished up and left the restaurant the heavens had opened, and a freezing rain was falling, with the prospect of later turning into full on snow. It was a quiet and brooding group that climbed into the Impala, Sam this time up front in the passenger seat and Tobius behind the wheel. I was still too mad at Sam to want to talk, so the new seating arrangements worked just fine for me. That was, until after half an hour on the road, when Andy was asleep and drooling on my shoulder. Only Sammy gets to do that.
Tobius fiddled with the radio, presumably trying to find a station with a decent weather forecast, but there was just way too much interference. It crackled and whined, setting my teeth on edge until I leaned over between the front seats and pushed in a tape, hoping the soothing tones of The 'Stone's Gimme Shelter would help calm me down. But I was out of luck. The crackling and whining continued and grew louder.
"What the hell?" Andy, having woken up after being dumped unceremoniously against the seat back, covered his ears.
Sire?
I don't know… but, aloud, he exclaimed "Dear God!" as the Impala gave a sudden violent lurch, then began swerving all over the road.
Tobius fought for control, wrenching the steering wheel hard over and his foot pumping the brakes. But the car just sped up.
Don't touch the wheel… take your foot off the brake pedal…
When I looked over at Sam he was bolt upright in his seat, eyes glowing and staring straight ahead, breathing ragged and fast.
Sam, what's going on?
Someone's trying to control the car… gotta stop them…
Who?
Don't know… can't find them…
Tobius' frantic gaze never left the road, but he did as Sam commanded.
The car's speed began dropping, gradually, and it stopped its stomach clenching erratic movements across the road. The tyres tried to spin against the wet black top, as though whoever Sam was fighting wasn't giving up so easy, but in the end the car came to a gentle stop and the engine cut out.
We all held our breath, hearing the rain pounding on the roof of the car, none of us yet willing to believe it was over, waiting to feel the car try to move again of its own accord. But the very last thing any of us expected was to hear the choking noise from the front passenger seat.
Or for Sam to go into a violent seizure.
"Sam!"
Tobius and I were out of the car in a flash, ignoring the freezing rain, and pulling Sam from his seat.
The kid's body jerked, spasms running through his muscles like miniature earthquakes. Desperate gasps erupted from his gaping mouth, and his eyes were wide open, unseeing and glowing in the darkness. We held him down as best we could, supporting his body and keeping him warm. That was all we could do.
Just hold tight and wait it out.
~
Chapter Ten
Genre: Gen (AU)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Supernatural and it's characters do not belong to me. All original characters do.
Spoilers: Season One and Two, although the exact sequence of events and the circumstances are considerably different.
Summary: Join Sam, Dean and Tobius where we left them in Book 1. This time, they will need to be stronger than ever if they are to survive the coming months.
Authors Notes: Many thanks to Phx for the beta and for her invaluable help and support.
In Honour of Darksupernatural’s birthday.
Chapter Nine
Now…
Sam's sound asleep, head nestled in his pillow and breathing softly through his slightly open mouth. A half empty plate of chopped meat lies on the bed next to him, which is very quickly scooped up before it can slide off onto the floor.
"I'm just glad he ate something, even if he was mostly asleep while chewing," Dean smiles a little and nods. "Can't complain at half a plate, especially when he's finally managed to keep it down."
Obviously deciding it wasn't right to let perfectly good food go to waste, Dean snacks on the left overs with every sign of enjoyment, talking to the camera as he does so. It's not a pretty sight, but the watcher is more than accustomed to witnessing Dean's sometimes less than delicate eating habits by now (and if one recalls a certain pizza slice from a long ago journal entry, this should come as no surprise).
"Damn near crapped myself right there and then when Sammy told me Meg was nearby," Dean acknowledges with an embarrassed chuckle. "I thought our luck had run out, until Sire took over the discussions. The whole thing was pretty strange. Meg seemed almost scared of him, though we all knew she could throw him around like a baseball if she wanted. I could argue that maybe she was worried how Sam would react if she hurt his family, whether or not the kid could kick her skinny ass, but I'm not sure. I think she genuinely held some respect for Tobius."
A soft snort from off camera catches Dean's attention and Tobius speaks up.
"That's because werewolves were once as evil as she, and, old fashioned that hell spawn are, they still believe we can be tempted back." Another snort. "They'd love to have us as allies again. Also, demon though she may be, Meg wasn't entirely sure she'd be fast enough to stop me ripping out her throat," there's the sound of someone rubbing themselves down, perhaps with a towel, then "I suspect she's grown rather fond of her present packaging."
Suddenly, a towel is flung across the room and lands on an indignant Dean's head.
"Hey! Cut that out!"
"Just get on with your 'Dear Diary' session and get some sleep!"
Dean grumbles at that. "Ain't a diary… girls use diaries…"
A deep, menacing growl interrupts him.
"Alright!" Dean snaps back, but respectfully so.
Then…
I felt Sam shudder beside me, and pushed against him comfortingly.
S'ok. Tobius is about to change all that.
I fail to see how, he replied, miserably.
Just watch, and listen.
"I thought you hell spawn only worked by influencing people's choices," Tobius mused aloud. "Watching the poor souls drown in the quagmire of their own bad decisions."
Meg shrugged. "This is true. We prefer it that way. It shows up human weaknesses for what they really are: excuses for their own selfishness." She smiled slightly, the tip of her tongue appearing between her teeth. "Humans don't need much of a nudge in the wrong direction, but werewolves…" Meg clicked her tongue. "You guys are another matter altogether. You don't have the same weaknesses as humans, but you do have weak spots. For example, you'll do anything for your pack, including kill or be killed, and though you will bear the burden of guilt for it, you won't let that stop you. My father would rather let this become Sam's choice, but he wants the kid so badly he'll use force if he has to."
"And what does he want Sam for, exactly?" Tobius asked the question we all wanted to know the answer to but, predictably, Meg wasn't going to bite.
"Sorry," she shrugged again, almost coyly. "Even I'm not privy to that information. But I'm guessing it's a seat of power within hell itself."
"Hmm. That would make sense," Tobius grinned suddenly. "Then you'll be most interested to know that you have a lone ranger in your camp."
Meg laughed softly, clearly not catching on. "Excuse me?"
The ancient werewolf leaned in to her again, watching her face carefully, his grin fading a little. "Jake didn't just confront us, and he certainly wasn't trying to take Sam by force, or use his pack as leverage."
Meg's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and her smug face fell. "Then, what?"
Tobius' own eyes glowed brilliant green, and the sudden flash of anger sent Meg staggering backwards.
"He tried to kill my son, and my grandson!" he stalked the bitch, pacing slowly forward, head lowered, eyes fixed on her in a deathly glare. "And you have the nerve to come here, demanding to see Sam?"
"I-we didn't… know this," replied Meg, now calmly standing her ground in the face of the angry werewolf.
"Call him off!" Tobius barked out, sharply. "Take away his powers!"
Meg shook her head, firmly. "Can't be done."
"What the hell do you mean it can't be done?" Sire practically roared, "Azazel did this to him, gave him these powers, surely they can be taken away."
"They can never be removed," Meg answered, now beginning to sound a little angry herself. "Haven't you learned anything? Sam was human, and Dean turned him into a werewolf! That single act alone severed my father's blood link with the kid, but it didn't take away his powers, and that alone is a reason to want him back."
A shiver went through me. She was right, had to be. It made perfect sense.
Dammit!
This is bad, Dean.
Yeah…
"Can't you rein him in, somehow?" Tobius demanded.
"No." Meg's answer was terrifyingly blunt, and somehow I knew she was still telling the truth. "Jake has his own agenda now, and there's nothing we can do about it. He's setting himself up as a rival and that's why he wants Sam dead. In the end, it will probably come down to pistols at dawn, so to speak," she added with an amused smile, echoing Sire's earlier words. Meg chuckled. "You boys have got one hell of a competition on your hands."
That also made horrific sense.
Demon and werewolf regarded each other with suspicion, whilst Sammy and I stayed back, hidden in the shadows, watching and waiting.
Tobius watched her shrewdly, his eyes narrowed.
"You've created a monster that even you are afraid of!" Sire announced, angrily.
And it seemed that Meg had no answer. Even looked a little scared, like it hadn't occurred to her before.
Boys. You'd better come out. Sire called to us, sounding as tired and fed up as we felt.
Nudging Sam behind and to the side of me, keeping as much distance between him and the demon bitch as possible, we trotted under the walkway towards Sire, slipped into the motel room, and changed. Sam stood behind me, scrabbling for clothes, not happy about revealing his naked body to Meg, but not wanting to miss a word.
Me? I'm an exhibitionist, and not above showing the evil bitch just what she was missing out on. Gloating is not a pretty trait, but when it comes to hell spawn I have no problem with it. I stood straight and proud, feet shoulder width apart and arms folded, staring deep into her black, demonic eyes.
Her lips twitched into another more feral smile. She sure liked what she saw. Girl had good taste… for a demon. But when she shifted, trying to get a peak at Sam around me, I pushed Sam further back into the room.
Get dressed, Sammy, now!
"You're very protective of your brother… or should I say, son," she smirked. "That's good. Very good in fact. We need you to keep the boy alive from now on."
I growled angrily. "What you think I've been doing since the day he was born, bitch!"
Meg's responding grin wasn't pretty. "You mean, apart from those six months after you ran out on him? Left him at the mercy of John Winchester?" she had the nerve to step into my personal space. "Didn't do such a grand job back then, huh? Oh yeah, Johnny told me all about it. He's having a great time downstairs, by the way. Says he can't wait to see his boys again."
Tobius stepped in before I could rip her to pieces.
"Enough!" he snapped, and glared at the demon. "Do we have an agreement?"
Meg tilted her head to the side. "I don't see we have any other choice," she nodded, reluctantly. "Very well. We'll leave you guys alone. Can't guarantee much about the other kids, though we'll try and rein them in…
Yeah, I bet you'll try real hard! I felt rather than saw Sire's slight nod of agreement.
"…but you have our word that until Jake is… neutralized, you won't be hearing from us." Meg sounded all matter of fact and business like. "All you have to do is keep Sam safe until we come for our… needs."
And didn't that leave an open-ended question?
Like who was supposed to neutralise Jake, exactly?
It seemed she had the answer all ready, and none of us liked it.
"Sam is the only one of you capable of taking him on, by the way, so don't go into any situation blind." But there was something distinctly shifty about the way she said it, like she was hiding something. Huh. No surprises there.
"Aw. That almost sounds like you care 'bout little ol'us!" I snorted, derisively.
"No, I don't. But Sam does." Meg waggled her fingers at me and smiled a little too smugly. "And we'll remember this, Dean. I can promise you that."
She turned her back on us and walked away, melting into the shadows on the far side of the parking lot.
"Why do I get the feeling we've just made a deal with the devil?" Sam murmured quietly, sounding every bit as worried as I felt.
I shouldered my way passed him into the room, and rummaged through my duffle for some clean clothes. I had no answer to that, and didn't know how to comfort him. Because that was exactly how it felt.
Bargaining with the devil.
No. We haven't made any deals, pups. Tobius closed the door behind us. They haven't offered to save us, or given us anything of substantial use.
He sat down on the bed nearest the door and leaned over a sleeping Andy, checking his pulse.
They've merely given us a reprieve because it's convenient for them to do so, and it serves their purpose. We serve their purpose, he added, somewhat bitterly, for now.
"I feel like some kind of damn merchandise in a mafia power struggle!" Sam began pacing the room, up and down, up and down, and running a hand through his hair in frustration. A hand that was noticeably shaking.
"Hey!" I grabbed his shoulders on the next pass and kept him from moving. "I know you're scared, dude. We all are, but Sire's right. It's not perfect but it is one less problem to worry about."
"But, guys!" Sam's gaze flitted back and forth between Tobius and me in panic. "You've seen what Jake can do! He nearly killed us… and she says only I stand a chance of defeating him?" He bared his teeth in a snarl, backed away, and slammed his fist into the wall, sending up showers of plaster dust. "What a crock of shit!"
That last word was yelled in despair at the top of his lungs, and breaking our hearts in one easy lesson.
I didn't have anything to add to that, so I just pulled him away from the wall and into my arms, feeling his silent tears dampening my tee shirt.
You're forgetting one thing, Tobius spoke up quietly, from his position beside Andy. We've also seen what you can do, Sam. How you used your TK skills to take on Jake… all I'm suggesting is, it's perfectly possible that Meg is right. After all, you must be Azazel's favourite for a reason, to the extent that you even outrank someone as powerful as Jake. You're further up the chain of command than you realise, young pup.
That was supposed to be comforting and in a way, I guess it was. But I'm not sure Sam was taking much comfort from it.
The poor kid just shook his head, and clung on to me tighter than ever.
"Wha's goin'on?" a drowsy, confusion laced voice spoke up from one of the beds.
Andy was blinking up at us, head wobbling on his neck like it was attached only by a broken spring. His face was worryingly pale, eyes bloodshot, and he looked scared half to death. "Who w-was th-that g-girl?"
Tobius smiled down at the kid. "No one for you to worry about, son. Go back to sleep. We'll be leaving in the morning, and you'll be starting a new life with some friends of ours." He pulled a syringe from our first aid kit and filled it with the herbal pain meds.
"Huh?" Andy blinked again, clearly still not on the same wavelength as the rest of us. He glanced wearily down at his arm when the needle slid in, and watched with a strange kind of fascination as Sire depressed the plunger. Two seconds later, he was fast asleep, dreaming the dreams of the heavily drugged.
"Wait." I called, a suspicion forming. "He can't still be concussed." My eyes narrowed accusingly. "You've been keeping him doped up these last few days."
"Couldn't risk the little bugger running away and getting himself killed." Tobius grinned, unashamedly. "Jake would have been after him like a shot. I doubt he'd have lasted more than half a day after what happened."
Guy had a point there. Andy was a little strange, but he was a good kid, and a life with the werebears was exactly what the doctor ordered. He'd be free to happily roam the mountains, whilst living with a family that would love and take care of him. And who knew? Maybe one day, when the loss of Talia had faded a little, and didn't hurt him quite so much, he'd find a werebear girl of his own to settle down with.
Or maybe I was just channelling my own hopes for Sam, when this nightmare was finally over. Whatever it was, it goes back to that whole thing I was telling you about hope, right?
Guess that means I haven't given up completely.
Yet.
We made one last stop at civilization before heading into the mountains. Andy was allowed to wake up fully by this point, with no further drug intervention, so he was able to join us for dinner at Leopold's Steakhouse.
It was a cosy little place with old English oak furniture, a huge granite fireplace filled with blazing pine logs, and carriage style lanterns on every table. There was no electrical lighting, with only the glow of the log fire and lanterns providing a dimly lit, intimate atmosphere that made us relax and more than a little sleepy.
In spite of having finished off the cold remains of the rabbit pie a couple hours ago, we were all starving hungry, and looking forward to juicy 32oz steaks, dripping with garlic butter and coated in blue cheese sauce.
Andy ordered a damn tofu steak, much to my disgust, and it was only the warning glance from Sam that kept me from making an issue out of it.
"I rather like this little place," Tobius announced, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of wine. "We shall have to come back."
Sam nodded in agreement. "Assuming the food's any good."
"Judging by the smell, I'd say that's an affirmative," I said, sniffing the air furiously.
Andy said nothing, just gazed into the fire.
"More wine anyone?" Tobius lifted the bottle.
Does this conversation seem a little strained to you? 'Cos it sure did to me.
But there was good reason. This was the aftermath of a heated… uh… discussion in the car. And it started with…
"So where you taking me?" This was Andy.
"Somewhere safe." This was Tobius.
Andy had clicked his tongue, nodded a few times, clicked his tongue some more, then…
"You're not big on giving out information, huh?" He'd then leaned forward and rested his hands on Sire's seat back, and I watched him from the corner of my eye. "Where's 'safe' exactly?"
Tobius had huffed gently. "With some friends of ours."
"Dude!" Andy made the mistake of grasping Sire's arm. "Where?"
Ever the beta and pack bodyguard, I barked out an instinctive warning. "Hey! No touching our alpha!"
"Dean," Tobius murmured, sounding amused. "It's fine. Andy wasn't to know and he's hardly a threat, after all."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Sam warned. "You haven't seen him in full on interrogation mode. Dude could scare the Gestapo!"
Tobius had raised a meaningful eyebrow. "How much would you want to bet upon that?"
Hmm. Yet another mysterious hint at Tobius' past?
Andy had frowned good naturedly at Sam, feigning offence. "I just like to know where I stand, ok?"
Tobius sighed, and turned to look Andy straight in the eye.
"They're a family of werebears, three in fact. Gerald, Josey, and their young daughter Janaya-Maria..." Seeing the rather disturbed expression on the kid's face, he softened his voice. "They're extremely kind, gentle and generous. And they'll keep you out of trouble, youngster."
Andy's mouth opened, in protest for sure, but snapped shut on seeing the warning on Sire's face. Clearly he caught the not-so-subtle undertone of you're on thin ice already, lad, do not try my patience.
Yeah. You didn't need thought projection to pick up on it, either.
"Ok," Andy had nodded shakily. "I guess I'm going to the mountains to live with the three bears." He'd blinked and muttered. "Can't believe I just said that out loud!"
So yeah, kid was a little put out but grudgingly accepted that it was in his best interests.
His softly added "Sure hope Goldilocks ain't there, or I'm in real trouble" had me stifling laughter.
It wasn't until our steaks arrived that he spoke up again in a small voice.
"What about my wheels?" he asked, referring to his cool black van, left behind at the scene of our confrontation with Jake. Andy cast a hopeful gaze around the table, finally settling on Tobius. "Everything I own is in that van."
Tobius wiped his mouth on a napkin and smiled gently at the boy. "It's been taken care of. A friend of ours is towing it back to his salvage yard even as we speak."
That was news to Sam and me. Sire must have made the call to Bobby while we were out rabbit hunting.
"He'll look after it won't he?" Andy asked, worriedly. "That van's custom made. I'd die if anything happened to her."
"Calm yourself," Sire laughed, softly. "Mr Singer will guard it with his very life, I'm sure. He even promised to fix the problem with the transmission, and perform a full service complete with oil and filter change."
Andy sat upright, looking brighter already. "Wow! Really? That's real nice of him," he gazed hopefully at Tobius yet again. "I don't suppose he'll fit new spark plugs too? Only…"
Tobius lifted a hand to forestall any more babbling. "I'm sure he's got it covered. Now, eat your dinner before it gets cold." Doesn't this child ever shut up?
No. Came Sam's firm answer.
Of course the kid wasn't going to let it end there. Through the next few minutes my neck itched. I could almost feel the build up. One look at Andy's face confirmed it.
Sam and I were busy chewing happily, watching Sire and the kid with ill-concealed amusement, when Andy opened his mouth again.
"You think he'll get me a new fluffy dice for the rear view mirror? Only, the string snapped on it last week."
Sire looked utterly bemused. What in God's name is a fluffy dice?
In truth I had no answer for him. That wasn't something I'd even consider for the Impala.
"Excuse me?" Sire attempted to find out for himself.
"Gotta have a fluffy dice, ya know, for luck," Andy mumbled, petulantly. "Just not the same without it."
"I don't think…" Tobius began, and spluttered indignantly when he was interrupted, which was something he just wasn't used to. Who on Earth does this child think he is?
I smothered a snort.
"It doubles as an air freshener," Andy continued as though Sire hadn't even spoken. "Living in a van, ya know? It can smell pretty thick in there after a while."
"But…" Sire tried again, unsuccessfully.
Bloodybuggeringhell!
"And keeping the windows open just don't always work…"
To which I responded with another snort. Kid just can't take a hint.
Tobius looked like a wolf in severe distress. "Dean! Pass me the salt please!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Uh… ok. S'not like you to add salt to your food," I observed, passing it over.
"Not for me!" Tobius waved the salt seller under Andy's nose. "But one more word about that bloody van and I'll stuff it in his mouth."
Sam, trying not to laugh, choked on a piece of steak. Give the poor little guy a break. He's bound to be worried. That van's his baby!
"Too much salt is bad for you," Andy, completely unconcerned by the threat, picked up his own fork and waved it under Sire's nose. "Guy your age should know better."
"A guy my age?" Tobius spluttered again. I can't believe I'm being lectured by a mere child! "You impertinent little…"
That had me chuckling. Aw, Tobius. Never seen anyone get your goat quite like this before. Kid could teach me a thing or two!
Don't even think it!
It was strange. I'd never noticed it before, but there appeared to be a thick purple vein pulsing away on Sire's forehead.
"Ok! I'll order some more wine, huh?" Sam announced cheerily, unsuccessfully trying to keep from laughing.
I felt sure Andy's response would have been something along the lines of 'Should you guys really be drinking and driving?' but we'll never know, because it was stifled when Tobius raised a hand and gently clamped it over the kid's mouth. He glared at the boy, but we could all see a slight twitch at the corner of his own mouth. Yeah, in spite of himself, Sire liked the kid.
"Yes, he'll top up the brake fluid, yes, he'll fix the squeaky wiper blade, and yes, he'll bring the van up into the mountains for you once he's done." That glare intensified. "Are you quite satisfied, now?"
Andy, mouth still covered by Sire's large hand, nodded carefully, eyes wide and curious, but no trace of fear.
Had to admire him. Kid had a hide like a rhino.
"Excellent!" Tobius, satisfied at last, removed his hand, picked up his fork and continued eating as though nothing had happened. Maybe now he's shut up we can eat our dinner in peace.
I smirked. Wouldn't bet on that.
Andy stared at his own food for a long moment. I saw the look on his face, the twitch in his jaw… kid was just stupid enough to ask another question. But I saw Sam's hand move to Andy's thigh and squeeze just hard enough to make a point. A silent you've had your fun now drop it.
"Ow!" Andy flinched over-dramatically, glared at Sam, but got the hint, finally, and stayed quiet for the most part.
And the hint, should you ever find yourself in non-lunar company, is that werewolves resent putting their food on hold for conversation at the dinner table. Food, especially good food, comes first and, in any case, if we have something important to say we thought project. Of course, poor Andy wasn't to know that.
Sam eventually sat back, rubbed his flat belly in contentment and declared
"That was delicious," he smiled shyly.
Sire and I chuckled, knowing full well what was coming.
"Uh… could I order another?" Sam added in a small voice. "M'still hungry."
"I think I'll join you, as a matter of fact," Tobius answered, and glanced at me inquiringly. "Dean?"
"You even need to ask?" I responded with a grin. "Make that two."
Andy's fork clattering to the plate grabbed our attention, and the kid looked a little unnerved at being in the steady sights of three hungry werewolves. That didn't stop him, however.
"Whoa, dudes!" he exclaimed in amazement, and stared down at his own food. The tofu steak was only half-eaten. His gaze switched from his plate, to each of our empty plates in turn, eyes wide. "Between you, you guys have eaten, like, an entire cow already!"
His plate examination came to a close, and Andy eyed us with admiration. "And you've still got room for more?"
Tobius cleared his throat, and grinned smugly. "Werewolves have an exceptionally high metabolic rate; we need a lot of fuel."
At least he's not asking about his van anymore. It's a start…
"No kidding!" Andy peered up at Sam. "Dude, how'd you survive, ya know, during that business with my twin? I mean, all you seemed to eat was stuff that had been microwav…OW!"
He glared at Sam. "What was that… ouch!"
My gaze hardened and flitted between an annoyed Andy and a very shifty looking Sam. Sam? What's he talking about?
Nothing. Take no notice.
Sam!
Sam fixed Andy with a glare of his own and gave a slight shake of the head, but it was too late. Sire and I had already caught on.
"Sam?" I turned fully in my seat to face him and folded my arms, eyes narrowed. "Care to finish what you interrupted?"
Seriously, it was like being in the School Principal's office. With Sire and me as the Principals.
Scowling deeply, Tobius followed suit, glowering at the young werewolf with his head dipped down. "Hm. Yes. Do tell," he said, flatly.
Sam flushed scarlet and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh… um… I didn't have a whole lot of time between each vision," he mumbled. "The visions themselves were pretty horrific, not to mention crippling, Andy's brother was trying to kill Tracy, and… and…" his flush was now almost purple. "Iatemicrowavefood!" came out in a breathless whisper.
Here's another little known fact about non-lunars. We don't eat food that's been either defrosted, cooked or reheated in a microwave, unless desperate. Microwaving chemically alters all the essential nutrients required to keep our joints supple and our muscles from seizing up during a change. Microwaving renders the 'food' useless to us. Sure, it'll fill our stomachs, but is of little nutritional value. In the long term, a werewolf on a poor diet suffers severe stress, attention deficit disorder and weight loss.
Insomnia becomes a big issue, and what little sleep is actually achieved becomes plagued by nightmares.
I'd seen almost similar effects when Jo Harvelle put a hex on Sam back in college. It sent him into a black despair that had him pining for his family; he quit eating altogether, and stopped changing. It nearly drove him insane.
And there's another complication to consider. Recovery and healing post injury can be severely depleted and slow for quite some time afterwards.
Which was why, in light of Andy's slip of the tongue, Tobius and I were damned furious with Sam.
Given that Andy was unlikely to have known about the effects of microwaved food on non-lunars, I'd have to guess that Sam had barely eaten whilst hunting down his visions behind our backs, which only added to his crime: microwave food, and little else.
Kid knew better than that. But this was classic Sam, jumping in head first without thought for his own safety.
It's stupid and reckless, and it scares the living crap out of me.
Well that sure explains why your legs took so long to heal, huh Sam? I drawled, sarcastically.
That was extremely unwise, young pup, Tobius growled in our heads, and I wondered, not for the first time, if Sire had gone beyond mere thought projection and actually read my mind this time.
Sam sighed. Yeah, I know, but I really didn't have a lot of choice, guys. There was just too much going on.
Pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration, I resisted the urge to thump him upside the head. And that's another reason why you should've told us what was going on! I yelled silently.
Sam flinched. I'm sorry, Dean…
Ya know what? Never mind. My hand fell away, formed a fist and lightly bumped the table. What's done is done.
But I couldn't bring myself to look at him again that evening.
We carried on eating our extra order of steak in silence, even Andy finally sensing this was the wrong time to open his mouth. Occasionally, I could feel Sam's mournful gaze on me, but I refused to acknowledge it. At least he didn't try to thought project. I might have walked out altogether right then if he had.
I love that kid, but God! He can make me so damn mad at him!
Eat up. We're leaving. Tobius sounded about as pissed off as I felt. But we'll be talking about this later!
By the time we finished up and left the restaurant the heavens had opened, and a freezing rain was falling, with the prospect of later turning into full on snow. It was a quiet and brooding group that climbed into the Impala, Sam this time up front in the passenger seat and Tobius behind the wheel. I was still too mad at Sam to want to talk, so the new seating arrangements worked just fine for me. That was, until after half an hour on the road, when Andy was asleep and drooling on my shoulder. Only Sammy gets to do that.
Tobius fiddled with the radio, presumably trying to find a station with a decent weather forecast, but there was just way too much interference. It crackled and whined, setting my teeth on edge until I leaned over between the front seats and pushed in a tape, hoping the soothing tones of The 'Stone's Gimme Shelter would help calm me down. But I was out of luck. The crackling and whining continued and grew louder.
"What the hell?" Andy, having woken up after being dumped unceremoniously against the seat back, covered his ears.
Sire?
I don't know… but, aloud, he exclaimed "Dear God!" as the Impala gave a sudden violent lurch, then began swerving all over the road.
Tobius fought for control, wrenching the steering wheel hard over and his foot pumping the brakes. But the car just sped up.
Don't touch the wheel… take your foot off the brake pedal…
When I looked over at Sam he was bolt upright in his seat, eyes glowing and staring straight ahead, breathing ragged and fast.
Sam, what's going on?
Someone's trying to control the car… gotta stop them…
Who?
Don't know… can't find them…
Tobius' frantic gaze never left the road, but he did as Sam commanded.
The car's speed began dropping, gradually, and it stopped its stomach clenching erratic movements across the road. The tyres tried to spin against the wet black top, as though whoever Sam was fighting wasn't giving up so easy, but in the end the car came to a gentle stop and the engine cut out.
We all held our breath, hearing the rain pounding on the roof of the car, none of us yet willing to believe it was over, waiting to feel the car try to move again of its own accord. But the very last thing any of us expected was to hear the choking noise from the front passenger seat.
Or for Sam to go into a violent seizure.
"Sam!"
Tobius and I were out of the car in a flash, ignoring the freezing rain, and pulling Sam from his seat.
The kid's body jerked, spasms running through his muscles like miniature earthquakes. Desperate gasps erupted from his gaping mouth, and his eyes were wide open, unseeing and glowing in the darkness. We held him down as best we could, supporting his body and keeping him warm. That was all we could do.
Just hold tight and wait it out.
~
Chapter Ten