Monday, September 17, 2012
The three men entered the local restaurant next to the motel and ordered breakfast. Dean remained quiet, listening to the other two talk. After his third cup of coffee, he turned to Sam.
“Where do I find the explosives?”
Sam sighed, “You won’t find them, Dean. Besides, it’s historical. You can’t damage it without going to jail…real jail.”
“Didn’t you read the sign?”
“With everything else surrounding the area, no.”
Sam looked at his brother’s blood shot eyes and the droop of his shoulders.
His voice softened, “Man, you had a very bad night. Why don’t go get a real sleep? Garth and I will do some research. Some of this is probably normal, but not all of it.”
Dean nodded, finished his coffee, and started to go pay the bill. The door opened and in walked his Amazon. Sam saw his brother stiffen as the woman made a beeline for him.
Garth started to laugh quietly.
“Hey, Sugar! Come have some coffee with me,” the woman gushed as she headed towards him.
Dean almost stammered as he answered the woman, “I haven’t had much sleep. I’m going to my room and getting some shuteye.”
“Good! I’ll come put you to bed,” the woman said suggestively as she leered at the hunter.
Garth interrupted, “He’s gay!”
Sam’s coffee spit out of his mouth across the table. Dean turned and stared with his mouth open. The restaurant quieted down to where a pin could be heard drop in it.
The woman stared at Dean in surprise.
“I shoulda known someone as pretty as you would be,” she muttered and walked over to a table. Dean set the payment down at the register and walked out.
John headed to West Virginia on a hunt. He got a motel room that had a small kitchenette and left Dean some money for food.
“Dad, school is starting. We’re gonna need supplies and stuff,” the boy said.
“You’ll have to make do. I have all the papers you’ll need on the desk over there,” their father said.
“Yes, Sir,” Dean responded.
John hugged Sam and looked at his oldest.
“I expect things to go more smoothly this time, Dean.”
The boys watched their father drive off.
The school wasn’t far, so they walked. Dean led his brother to the office where they registered for school. Dean knew he was behind but he made up his mind to catch up as fast as he could.
The second day of school, the older boy received call to go to the office. Sam was sitting in the waiting area. Dean’s eyes widened. The secretary told the older brother to go into the principal’s office.
Dean knocked on the door and was told to come in. He entered the room and stood by the door. The man behind the desk looked up and asked him to sit down. Dean obeyed and waited.
“Dean, where’s your father and mother?”
“My Mom is dead, Sir.”
“I’m sorry, Dean. Where’s your Dad?”
“He’s working, Sir.”
“Where does he work?”
“He’s a mechanic. He works on fancy cars. He’s a couple of towns over working on one, Sir.”
“I want to believe that, Dean, but Samuel told his teacher that your Dad stays gone for days at a time. I want to see him tomorrow morning,” the principal replied.
“Yes, Sir,” Dean answered.
The final bell rang. Dean went to get his books and walked out of the school with Sam.
“Sammy, you got to keep your mouth shut about how we live. We got problems now.”
“I’m sorry, Dean.”
“I’ll call Uncle Bobby for help.”
After John found out about the picnic and playing ball instead of practicing, he drove to Bobby’s house to get his boys. Dean sat on the front porch watching Sammy play out front. He could hear the two men arguing. A few minutes later his father opened the front door and looked outside.
“Dean, get your things. You and Sam are coming with me.”
“What about school? Sammy starts Kindergarten.”
“I’ll have you in a school.”
Dean did as his father said and loaded the car with their duffels. Sammy watched him and looked at the house.
“We leaving again, Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy. Dad wants us with him.”
“There’s no home with Dad.”
Dean stood still and looked at his brother.
His voice cracked with emotion as he answered his little brother, “Sammy, where ever we are, I’ll see to it you have a home. I’m home, Sammy. Okay?”
“Okay,” the younger brother said softly and hugged the bigger boy.
Dean closed his eyes and held on.
John walked outside, telling the boys, “Let’s go.”
Sam ran to the man on the porch. Dean stared after him and Bobby could see the pain in the boy’s eyes. He hugged Sam and walked out to the older boy and hugged him.
“It will be okay. You have my number. I’ll be there any time you need me.”
Dean nodded and got into the car. This time the angel touched Bobby and gave him grace, filling the man with peace.
‘I will be with him too, Bobby. I promise,’ Castiel murmured softly.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Dean had grown exceedingly quiet after the shtriga. Bobby wracked his brain trying to come up with something to help the child. He was so angry with John. John had called that morning and talked about Dean’s training. Bobby had not been very polite with the man.
School would be starting in a few weeks and Bobby wanted to give the boys a chance to have some fun. His first idea was to take them to the park outside of town. He packed a large picnic lunch and included a pie for Dean.
Bobby worked with both of the boys, teaching them how to play catch. Dean had argued that he had to practice his shooting every day. The hunter told him that fun was just as important and they were going to play ball. The boy obeyed.
Sam ran after the ball, laughing as he did. Dean watched his little brother and slowly began to relax and try catching the ball. At first, he missed, but he began to judge way the ball was thrown and managed to catch it. Bobby watched the boy’s face as he calculated each throw. He loved it when Dean began teaching Sam how to do the same thing.
The three played hard for two hours. Bobby asked them if they were hungry and thirsty. Both boys nodded and told him yes. He went to the truck and grabbed a large quilt and two baskets.
The boys helped him set up the picnic area. Bobby set out a large jar of iced tea and one of lemonade. Plates, forks, glasses, and napkins were brought out. The other basket had a potato salad, corn on the cob, and fried chicken. He took out a cake and an apple pie.
Castiel leaned against a tree, enjoying the togetherness the three were having. He sighed and hoped the boys would be able to stay with Bobby. He doubted it would happen. Father seemed to think that Dean’s attitude and personality stemmed from living with John. He hated the thought and was still dealing with thoughts of removing the older Winchester.
He heard Bobby laugh and looked back up and saw Dean getting his third slice of pie. He smiled, thinking Dean would run it off in very little time.
Bobby taught the boys how to play Chinese checkers. They had a portable radio playing rock and roll. Sam fell asleep with his head in Dean’s lap. The older boy smiled and looked up at the hunter.
“Got to take care of him, Uncle Bobby. Dad won’t find fault with about that ever again.”
Both the angel and the hunter were quiet. Neither had a response for it.
Dean heard a noise and lifted his head to see who was approaching the single jail cell. He saw a shadow as someone knelt down by the barred door and looked up into the eyes of his brother.
“Sammy?” his dried throat managed to croak.
Sam remained quiet as he worked on the lock.
“A jailbreak, Sammy?”
“It’s not legal, Dean. This is not the real jail. Just hold on,” the taller man murmured as he picked the lock on the door.
“Where the hell is Garth?” Dean whispered.
“He’s standing guard,” Sam replied as he heard the lock click. “I need you to move with the door so I can get to the manacles.”
Dean inched forward on the floor as the door opened. He couldn’t go far without being crushed into the wall. Sam worked on one of the manacles. They both heard the click, and he started on the second.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here,” he reached down and helped his brother stand.
The two men walked towards the Impala. Garth was standing near it. The older Winchester walked up to the hunter and the man never saw his fist before he was on the ground.
“What was that for?” asked Garth.
“That’s for leaving us on that trail with a bear,” the older man snarled.
“It wasn’t a bear, Dean. It was your girlfriend all dressed up nice and sexy for you,” laughed Sam.
Seconds later, Sam was on the ground with the other hunter.
“That’s not funny,” growled Dean as he got into his baby.
Rubbing his jaw, Sam got into the passenger seat and Garth ran to his vehicle.
Sam started to comment but was interrupted by his brother.
“Don’t talk to me right now unless you tell me where I can get a good breakfast and some explosives.”
“Why do you need the explosives, Dean?”
“I’m gonna blow that damn place off the mountain.”
“Let’s go get some breakfast and let you calm down,” murmured Sam.
“Calm down! I was beaten, manacled, and I can’t remember what happened with that Amazon!”
Sam doubled over laughing as the Impala headed back to their motel and the restaurant next door to it.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Dean woke up the next morning in an uncomfortable position. He found himself laying on the dirty floor of a jail cell. His hands were manacled to the barred door. The place was filthy. A bunk was against the wall with an ancient mattress on it. His mouth was dry and he ached all over.
Blinking his eyes, he stared around the small room, trying to remember what had happened.
Suddenly, he remembered the dark shadow, Garth leaving, and Sam suggesting they make a lot of noise to scare away the bear
Everything happened so suddenly he wasn’t sure it all had really happened. He and Sam made a lot of noise with everything they had on them. There were shouts from the different cabins in the area and people came running.
The dark shadow had come down the path and Sam backed up. Dean remembered turning and being grabbed by the ‘bear’ who turned out to be the biker chick in baby doll pajamas. His flash light on her showed more then he wanted to see. The pajamas were very sheer.
“Sam!” he yelled when the several men jumped him. Sam ran forward to stop the attack when Garth grabbed him and dragged him away.
“It won’t help. They’re stoned, Sam.”
Dean knew he had taken a beating and was taken to the small holding cell and manacled to the door. What he couldn’t remember was what happened with the biker chick who had come in behind them.
“Please God, nothing happened,” he murmured in a panic as his memory slowly returned. The thought of the sheer baby dolls and the tattoos made him ill. He couldn’t remember.
“Awww, man,” he whispered.
John pulled into Bobby’s house around four a.m. Looking into his rearview mirror he noted that his oldest boy was awake.
Opening the driver’s door, the man spoke abruptly, “Get you brother, Dean.”
John Winchester walked to the front door and knocked. Castiel stood behind him but kept an eye his charge. Bobby answered the door on the third knock.
“John? Is everything okay? Where are the boys?”
“They’re coming,” the oldest Winchester answered.
Bobby looked over the man’s shoulder and saw Dean helping his brother walk across the yard. Sam was upset about being wakened. Dean was having problems with him.
“You should have picked Sam up and carried, John. Dean’s having a problem.”
“He can deal with it.”
“What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Dean disobeyed commands and almost got his brother killed. When faced with a life and death situation on top of it, he couldn’t even fire his weapon,” John spoke scathingly, not seeing his son come up behind him.
Bobby saw the pain in the young boy’s eyes and snapped at the Father, “You might pay attention to who’s listening, John.” Bobby went past the man and picked up Sam.
“Come on, Dean.” The boy followed his Uncle Bobby upstairs to the room he shared with his younger brother.
Bobby put Sam on the bed and covered him. He turned to the older boy.
“What happened, Son?”
“Dad’s downstairs, Uncle Bobby.”
“He can damn well wait. This is more important.”
The boy broke down in tears and told the older man the entire story. Bobby was not a stupid man. No one left children in a motel room in a community where children were going into comas.
“You’re human, Dean. You needed a break. Your Dad should never have left you boys there. It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is, Uncle Bobby.”
Bobby hugged the boy and headed downstairs.
He found the man in the kitchen drinking a glass of whiskey.
“I’ll keep the boys for now. You get the hell out of my house.”
“I’m not a fool, John Winchester. You left those boys in that town with a shtriga running loose in it. Dean tells me the thing attacked Sam and he froze. BUT, you were there almost immediately. How convenient, John.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s really bad, John, when you use your children for bait. Get out of my house until I can calm down. “
“I’ll get the boys.”
“No. They need a little sanity for a while. Bait? Get out!”
Bobby heard the duffels hit the porch and the Impala drive off.
Castiel, upstairs, lay beside his charge, his eyes flashing in anger. It had not occurred to him that the father would use his sons as bait.
‘Father, I want to hurt him.’
‘No, my son. John will never learn, but Dean needs him right now.’
The angel trembled along with the boy who sobbed quietly.
‘I will find a way, John Winchester. I will.’
Nine-year-old Dean followed his father and little brother out to the Impala. He carried their duffels. John placed them in the trunk and told his older son to get into the car.
Dean sat in the back seat, his brother’s head in his lap. The younger Winchester slept the entire drive. The older boy ran his fingers through the thick head of hair, tears going down his face. He remained quiet, not wanting his father to see him crying.
The evening replayed in his young mind. His Dad was right. He had almost gotten Sammy killed. It was his fault. It had not helped that he had frozen when the monster attacked his brother. He had failed Dad and Sammy.
Dean Winchester sat up straight, a determined look on his young face.
‘I’ll do whatever Dad says from now on. Can’t let Sammy be hurt,’ the young boy’s thoughts were determined. His heart ached over what his disobedience had almost cost him.
Castiel sat in the front seat, looking back at his charge. The hazel eyes were glistening, and the angel could see the heartache the boy was trying to contain.
‘Father, John Winchester needs to comfort his son. Please, Father. Make him realize.’
‘I cannot do that, my Son. A major part of Dean’s personality formed tonight. He will obey whatever John Winchester tells him to do. It will be a point of contention with Sam Winchester. One day, Sam will learn of this event and he will understand this part of Dean.’
The angel saw more tears fall and thought of ways to torture the father. Surely Father would not be offended by ideas as long as they were not carried out?
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Sam and Garth followed a very frustrated Dean Winchester up the rocky trail. The older brother stayed about twenty feet ahead of them. Sam would catch a glimpse of the small pocket flashlight the man was using.
It took a few minutes to realize Dean had stopped moving. The other two men caught up with him, and Sam noticed Dean was moving his head right and left, sniffing the air.
“What is it?” Garth queried.
“Shhh,” Dean responded. “Do ya smell it?”
“Burnt rope,” the smaller man answered.
“Pot,” Sam replied.
“Yeah, Sammy. Not a good idea to hang around here for long. Cops will show up.”
“Naaah,” Garth said.
The hunter stared into the younger man’s face, “No?”
“The police raid every couple of months, Dean.”
“The cops are kind of busy around here, Dean. I mean there are hookers, nudists, theft, and illegals. They do a token raid every couple of months. Whoever gets arrested bails out and moves to a different area in town and lies low for awhile. No one says anything.”
Sam started laughing when Garth grinned and offered to get Dean some pot. The hunter shook his head, adding that he would stick to alcohol because it was legal and didn’t have to go through his lungs.
The younger brother asked the smaller hunter, “How do you know these things, Garth?”
“I’ve made a couple of friends,” the man responded.
Dean shook his head and headed back up the rocky trail until a large black shadow blocked the path about thirty yards in front of them.
The three men stared at the shadow.
“It’s a black bear,” Garth stated.
Sam watched his brother as the man turned and faced the other hunter.
“A bear? Well, what do we do now?”
“Well, normally, I’d make a lot of noise to scare it away, but it’s late. We’ll bother the neighbors here. My cabin’s right over there. I’ll see you two in the morning.”
“What?” Dean’s voice rose an octave. “Sammy?”
“I guess we make noise, Dean.”
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
The three men walked outside of the cemetery. Sam turned to Garth and stared at him.
“Do you realize how close you came to dying?”
“Yeah, but I have heard a lot about both of you. Neither of you shoots first and asks questions later,” came the happy reply of the smaller hunter.
Dean stared at the two men, shaking his head, murmuring, “Should’ve just shot the damned snake.” Both men turned and stared at him.
The older Winchester got into his baby and looked out the window, “You guys comin?”
They drove up to the where the gift shop stood. Parking their cars, they headed up the trail past the restrooms/jail. Garth led the way.
“You really live in one of those?” Dean asked.
“Yeah. I don’t need much space,” their companion stated.
“O….kay…,” the shorter of the two Winchesters stared at the other.
The trail was made of rock with wood on either side marking off the track. Several times, one of the brothers tripped on the loose rock. Sam could hear Dean swearing under his breath.
Lights were on in the buildings. Many were flickering.
“Demon?” Sam asked.
“Lanterns,” Garth answered.
“How do you heat water and keep the place warm in the winter and cool in this blasted desert during the summer”” Dean asked.
“Fireplaces and open windows,” Garth replied.
The two men heard Dean shout and hit the ground behind them. They both turned and hurried towards him. Sam leaned down to where his brother lay on the loose rock, covering his head.
“Dean, are you all right?”
The older Winchester raised his head, looking up at the sky.
“You didn’t see that fudgin’ bird?”
The other two men stared into the night sky. Sam saw the owl about the time all three of them heard it.
Sam snickered…”Well, Dean, it’s either a witch’s familiar or it thinks you’re dinner.”
“That’s not funny,” the shorter brother snarled.
“I know,” Sam laughingly replied. “The biker girl must be the witch and she had the owl hunting for you.”
Both men heard Dean’s curses as he trudged past them up the trail.
I have decided to time jump two years. Dean is nine and Sam is five years of age.
The next two years saw the Winchesters traveling some, but John attempted to stay in one place for a while, at least. Dean turned nine in January of that year. He had already attended five schools. John realized it was a struggle for the boy, but he had to go where the hunting was. He wasn’t leaving his boys behind.
Sam’s fifth birthday arrived. John was gone, as usual. Nine-year-old Dean called his Uncle Bobby the night before and asked if he could come for the day and help him make his brother’s birthday special. Bobby agreed when he realized the boys were only two hundred miles away.
The man arrived at three o’clock in the morning and found the older brother awake and waiting for him. Dean let the man sleep in the second bed and slept beside his brother.
The next morning, the hunter took the boys out for breakfast and they went to the local roller rink. Neither boy had learned to skate and Bobby enjoyed watching them as they learned. Sam caught on faster than his older brother. Dean didn’t give up and finally made it around the rink without falling.
After the skating, Bobby and the boys went to a pizza parlor. After the meal, a birthday pizza was brought out the employees sang “Happy Birthday” to Sammy.
Dean was allowed to pick out a present for his brother. He chose two books for the voracious reader. Sammy was reading on a third grade level. Bobby bought a G.I. Joe for both boys. The hunter stayed the night and watched movies with the boys. Sam went to bed early. Dean fell asleep with his head in man’s lap with an angel sitting at his feet, a contented smile on his face and blue eyes, shining.
Monday, September 3, 2012
John took Sam to the nearest town to buy a present for the boy. Dean stayed at the cabin. When the Impala drove away, the boy headed into the kitchen.
He looked in the pantry and found the one cookbook that was on one of the shelves. Looking through the book, he found a recipe for chocolate cake. He started looking for ingredients. There was no cocoa but there were some chocolate bars.
Taking the ingredients to the counter by the stove, the boy made his brother’s cake. The cookbook did not explain what Tb or tsp meant. He did not understand fractions. The cake called for cups of flour, so Dean took down a coffee cup from one of the cabinets.
John and Sam came home an hour later to a strange smell and some softly spoken curses coming from the kitchen. Opening the door to the room, John saw Dean lifting a mess out of the stove. The boy was covered with flour and there was flour and eggs on the floor.
“What the hell happened, Dean?”
“I made Sammy a cake, Dad.”
“That’s nice of you, Dean,” John said softly looking at his messy son and the floor that looked more like paste then hard wood.
Dean and his father cleaned up the mess. John found a can of frosting in the pantry and let his son frost the cake. After a meal of hot dogs and French fries, Dean brought out the cake.
John tried to cut the cake but the texture wasn’t right. He had to scoop the cake out of the pan.
Sam made a face when he bit into it. John spit out a large piece of egg shell. Dean tried a bite and frowned.
“What did you use for measurements, son?”
Dean brought the utensils he used. John smiled softly. Nothing was measured right. He watched his son spit out two pieces of egg shell.
“Did you break the eggs, Dean?”
“Only on the floor, Dad,” the boy responded.
Castiel, looking at the messy cake, smiled when John burst out laughing.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Nightfall did not occur until almost nine in the evening. Sam woke and looked at his brother on the other bed. He smiled. Dean had been acting more like his old self on this hunt then he’d done in a long while. The younger man was enjoying it; something he’d never thought he would do.
The alarm went off ten minutes later and the older man rolled over and looked into his brother’s eyes. He yawned.
“We’re really going to do this?”
“Okay. Are we calling Garth?”
“I talked to him while you were asleep. He’ll meet us up there.”
“Of course he will. The idiot’s living up there with them.”
The two men drove towards Ghost Town. They passed the cemetery and Dean slowed down. He’d seen movement. Pulling in, he stopped the car.
“You’re really going back in there?” his brother asked.
“Yeah, Sammy. Something’s just not right here.”
The two men got out and walked through the small cemetery, where they noted a new pile of rocks. Kneeling down, Dean checked it out.
“It’s a fresh grave, Sam. Why would they bury someone here now? There’s got to be some place where they can dig a hole.”
“You think we need to uncover it?”
“No. We need to check with the locals and find out if they are still burying people here at times before we do.”
Dean was startled when something crawled out of the rocks. He started moving backwards as the snake landed on the ground. Sam reached down to pull him up when a hand landed on his shoulder. The man turned and stared into the Garth’s face.
“You know, Garth, that’s how you get shot!” Sam hissed at him.
Dean was still scrambling backwards when the smaller hunter cut the snake’s head off. Sam pulled his brother to his feet.
“Let’s get out of here,” Dean said, shakily. “I hate snakes.”
The Winchesters stayed in Montana for another week. Dean’s cough lingered due to the winter weather.
The next few months were spent traveling from place to place. John trained his older son more than the boy had learned before. There was no longer a weapon in the man’s arsenal Dean didn’t understand the use of, had fired, and could break down and clean.
On the first of May, the family stopped in the Ozarks. John had a hunt for a wendigo. Sam and Dean stayed at a cabin another hunter had loaned their father. Dean continued with his training when his father was around and planned for Sam’s birthday.
Sam was asleep in the upstairs bedroom when the wendigo showed up at the cabin. Dean could hear it outside and went looking through the items his dad had left for their protection. He found the flare gun. His head turned when the front door opened. He knew he had locked it. The creature had to be strong to break a lock.
It was standing in the doorway when the flare hit it. The creature fell backwards, a loud roar escaping its lips. Sam came running into the living room. Dean dragged him back upstairs and stayed with him in the bedroom.
“It’s okay, Sammy. It was a bear. I hit with something and it roared and ran away,” the boy lied. “Dad will be here soon.”
Sam fell asleep in his brother’s arms.
John arrived two hours later. He’d tracked the creature back to the cabin and panicked when he saw it.
“He ran into the house, noting the broken lock.
The man ran upstairs and heard his older son whispering to his younger brother. Opening the door, John knelt down by the boys.
“Are you all right?”
“You did good, Son. I’m going to take care of the remains. You boys get some sleep.”
John took care of the creature’s burnt body. He cleaned up and went upstairs. He looked in on the boys. Sam was sound asleep but Dean was restless. John ended up sleeping with his sons.
The angel sat in a chair in the corner. He had stayed with the older boy the entire time. The creature would not have killed him. Castiel would have stepped in. It bothered the angel that a seven year old would have to do what Dean had done.