The Kid, Part 17, Supernatural, PG

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: The Kid Part 17 ( All of The Kid can be found Here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2480
Summary: Dean is 18, Sam is 14. John is 8. Sam is starting to figure out what Dean is hiding from him, John has a dream that may shed some light on things and Dean is starting to wear under the pressure.

A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially varkelton's fault. De-aging fic.


Pretty art provided by fallen_for_lost





His brother was hiding something from him. Sam knew it. He didn't have all the pieces to the puzzle, but he was really beginning to not like the picture the puzzle was leading him to. He sat on the floor of the living room with it spread out around him, notes and ciphers, his father's journal, the metal pieces, the curse box and his own notes.

The door opened, cold air blowing in around John and Dean as they came in. Dean sighed as he shut the door. "Go on into the kitchen John, you can help me with dinner."

When the door to the kitchen had swung closed, Dean glared down at Sam. "I thought we agreed."

"No, Dean, you agreed. I listened, let you ramble on and waited for you to leave. We have to figure this out."

"Sam, if Dad wanted you involved, he wouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

"And look what his trouble got us, eh Dean?" Sam shook his head. "Besides, I've just about got it. If you would give me the pieces you're hiding, I'd know what it is we're supposed to do."

"What makes you think I'm hiding anything?" Dean asked, just a little too defensively.

"Because I know you." Sam responded.

Dean sighed and shook his head. "Get this cleaned up, Bobby's on his way."

"Are we still hiding all of this from him?" Sam asked, gathering the piles.

"Dad's note said not to trust anyone, even Bobby."

"Because of me." Sam pushed, despite the stress he could see lining Dean's face.

"I told you Sam, he didn't actually say that."

"Whatever."

"Don't do that." Dean peeled off his coat and dropped it on the back of the chair. "Just…please, clean this up, and let's have a nice, quiet dinner."

Sam squinted up at his brother. "If I do that, will you give me the pieces you're hiding?"

Dean closed his eyes, looking older than his nearly twenty years. "Fine. Tomorrow, I'll get Sarah to watch John and you and I will go over it all."

"Good."

"Dad?" John appeared at the kitchen door with what looked an awful lot like chocolate smeared over his face. "I don't think the pudding is going to be enough."

Sam chuckled as Dean shook his head. "I said the pudding was for dessert, Johnnie."

John nodded very seriously. "But someone ate some. There isn't enough."

"Someone did, huh?" Dean hid the smirk. "Well I guess that someone doesn't get any dessert."

Dean headed into the kitchen with John, leaving Sam to finish packing up the stuff. He paused when he picked up the curse box that they figured held the amulet all the demons seemed to be hot after. So far he'd been able to figure out that the box was designed only to open on the key, on the night of a full moon, on sacred ground. He also knew that the amulet was ancient, made by a priest in Hungary, he still hadn't figured out what it was for…or how the amulet had ended up in his father's possession, or why the demons wanted it. Sam sighed and put the curse box in with all the rest of the things.

He had discovered enough though to know that whatever his father had been up to, it involved protecting Sam…from demons and hunters alike.

The doorbell rang and Sam went to let Bobby in, stepping aside as he dragged a steamer trunk in behind him. "More in the truck." Bobby said in way of greeting. Sam nodded and headed out to get it. By the time he came in with two boxes, Bobby was grousing about John Winchester's over developed need to hide things in out of the way places and his goddamn love of booby traps.

"This everything?" Dean asked as Sam set the boxes down on top of the trunk.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, I cleaned the place out, like you asked."

"You staying for dinner?" Dean gestured toward the kitchen, but Bobby shook his head.

"Jim's got a hunt he wants me to take. You boys don't go getting up into all this without him or Missouri around, you hear? You don't need to be picking up where the old man left off."

"No worries, Bobby. Sam made me swear off hunting, remember?" Dean's eyes flashed to Sam, his jaw tightening.

"Well, Jim tells me you both been asking a lot of questions. Hunting questions."

"Just making sure we're safe." Sam interjected. "After the last few attacks…can't let them get to Dad."

Bobby's eyes narrowed as he looked at Sam, but if he suspected they were lying, he didn't show it. "Right. You call if you need me."

"We will, Bobby. And thanks again."

Dean walked Bobby to the door, and Sam opened the first box once he was out the door. It was stuffed with books and papers and tangled up talismans that looked like tourist crap sold in flea markets and the like.

"Leave it for tomorrow, Sam."

Dean sounded tired, and more than that, he looked exhausted. Sam nodded, and closed the box. "Tomorrow."



Dinner was quiet, even John sensing the mood and eating quickly before excusing himself and running off to his room. Sam figured it was a good time to do the same, he had debate club work to finish before school started on Monday.

He put aside his thoughts about his father and demons and concentrated on the pros and cons of imminent domain. Sometime later, probably several hours, there was a light knock on his door and John's voice on the other side. "Sammy?"

"Come on in, Johnny." The door opened to reveal John in his batman pajamas, rubbing at tired looking eyes. "What's wrong buddy?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Always."

John closed the door and crossed to the bed, climbing up on it when Sam made room among his books. When John didn't start talking, Sam sat back and looked at him. "What's going on?"

He huffed out a breath and chewed on his lip for a minute. "I want to say this right."

"Okay." The last time John was this serious, he'd been concerned about Sam going dark inside. Sam had been working hard at not letting his anger and fear control him since.

"No, it's me this time." John said, not really looking at Sam, so much as looking past him. "I had a dream. In this dream I wasn't a little boy. I was a big man and I had little boys of my own."

Sam stilled, watching John think through each word he said. "I was a dad and I had a baby boy and my baby boy was like me…only the black-inside man with yellow eyes wanted to take him, like he took my cousin."

John's eyes were unfocused, hazy. Sam held his breath. "What happened to your baby boy, Johnny?" Sam asked breathlessly.

"I took him away, before the black-inside man could, only I wasn't fast enough and the black got inside him. Just a little…but I knew I'd have to protect him, I just didn't know how."

John blinked and his eyes came back to Sam's face. Sam struggled to find something to say to him. He was talking about the night Sam's mother died…the night of the fire, when everything changed. "I'm sure it was just a dream, Johnny."

John shook his head. "That's just it, Sam. I know it's real. I just…don't understand how." He sighed and it sounded far too old for a boy of eight. "I was John Winchester then too." His eyes sparkled and his face looked like someone who knew the answer was just beyond his reach. "But not like now."

Sam suddenly felt his chest constrict. He didn't want John to face all of that, to know the truth. "It sounds like some crazy movie to me." Sam said as dismissively as he could manage. He swallowed at a ball of fear in his throat.

"I think you're like my baby boy, Sammy…the black-inside man got to you, but only a little, and your daddy got you away…and that's why you have to fight so hard to keep from going black…but you got sparkles in you too, just like the lady and Pastor Jim." John leaned across Sam's piles of books and kissed his forehead. "I like it when you're sparkly."

Sam exhaled and looked around, surprised to find Dean in the door. Dean's eyes met his and Sam knew he'd heard at least part of it. "Hey, buddy, way past your bed time."

John grinned and jumped up off Sam's bed. "Night Sammy."

"Night, kid." Sam called after him, watching Dean pick him up and carry him down the hall. By the time Dean came back, Sam had his bed cleared of stuff. "I take it you heard?"

"Not all of it." Dean said.

Sam shook his head. "Freaked me out Dean. Missouri said he wouldn't remember."

"I know."

"He said it was a dream. That he was a grown up in his dream and he had a baby boy." Sam shook his head again, his heart thundering inside him. "The demon did something to me, Dean. That thing that killed Mom…it put something inside me."

"Calm down, Sam. We don't know that."

"Like hell." Sam paced between the bed and the window. "What…what does it want? I mean…he's the one who has gifts…I'm just…I'm…"

Dean's hands caught his shoulders, stopped him. "Sam, I need you to calm down."

"You calm down Dean. You're not the one with…with…demon shit inside him."

Sam's head was pounding, his heart beating furiously and he gulped in air trying to keep from falling even further into panic.

Dean shook him, grabbed his face and squeezed until Sam looked at him. "Don't, Sam…don't lose it. Not now. I need you."

Dean was scared, Sam realized slowly…scared that whatever darkness Missouri had told him could take Sam was there, rising up inside him. Sam exhaled and inhaled slow and easy, nodding as he felt the fear starting to edge away.

"Whatever this is, we figure it out together."

Sam nodded. "Okay. I'm okay."

Dean pulled him into a hug and held him for a long minute. "Need you Sam."

"I know Dean. I’m okay."



As long as he didn't think about it, Sam continued to be okay. Dean cooked them breakfast, then walked John down to Sarah's. By the time he came back, Sam had everything laid out on the kitchen table.

He held out his hand as Dean came into the kitchen. Dean sighed and pulled two envelopes out of his jacket pocket. "Here, I jotted down the dates in the notes, check them with that demon book." Sam said as he started looking over the coded notes.

He sat, his fingers strumming over the paper as he traced the words and scribbled the translations. Then he flipped the paper over and stopped, staring at the letter in plain English that Dean had hidden from him.

If you're reading this, it means I failed, and I've left you a horrible thing, Dean. It means I couldn't stop it…the thing that's coming for Sam…and now it's up to you.

He doesn't know yet, Dean, but he inherited something from me, from your mother…something we were born with and kept hidden. But the demon knows and it wants it. Any day now it will start to manifest in him…and when it does, they'll start coming for him.

He's been marked, they'll be able to find him no matter where you are. Our only chance is to do this…our only chance to save him is to scrub the mark out of him…and bury the gift, before it becomes too much for him to control.

Sam lowered the paper. "What gift?"

Dean wasn't looking at him. "Dean, what is he talking about?"

"I don't know."

Sam stared at the letter, reading it over and over. "There was more." He realized it slowly, something in the handwriting, the flow of words telling him there had been another piece of paper. He looked up at Dean. "Where is it?"

Dean sighed and put the book down. "It was nothing Sam, okay?"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "No, Dean. Come on. You told me you'd give me everything."

"Not this." Dean whispered, tight lipped. Dean looked away and when he looked back his face was hard and set. "It isn't important to what we have to do, okay?"

Sam could tell Dean was scared, so he dropped it. "Okay, fine. So, what did he mean then? He's the one with these…gifts. Not me."

"I talked to Missouri about that." Dean said, pulling out the chair opposite Sam and sitting down. "She seemed to think that you haven't developed them yet…that something about the way Dad repressed his or maybe whatever happened with Mom did it, but she says that these things start to show during puberty."

Sam sat back and crossed his arms. "Well, I'm fourteen, Dean. Puberty started a while ago."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe you're a late bloomer." He smirked a little and then sighed. "I'm just in the dark here as you, Sam."

Sam ran a hand over his notes. "So you think whatever this ritual does, it will keep me from getting them?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

"And, why not you?"

Dean frowned at him. "Why not me, what?"

Sam chewed on his lip as he thought about it. "Why me? You're the oldest, shouldn't you be the one with the gifts?"

"It doesn't work that way, I guess."

"So…what? I'm going to start seeing demons and stuff?"

Dean sighed again. "I really don't know Sam. I just know that we have to do this thing, and it looks like our next opportunity is February 12th." He pointed to the book in his hands. "Some demon holiday. Looks like it fits."

"What about John?" Sam said suddenly. "If this demon is so hot to have me and I don't even have these gifts, what about him? I mean…he does…and he's small and vulnerable…"

Dean looked at him like he hadn't considered that. "He's just a kid Sam."

"Not for long. He's eight, Dean. Puberty is just around the corner…if he can see ghosts and demons now, what happens then? Do we end up having to do this then for him too?"

Dean inhaled and held it, then blew it out slowly. "One thing at a time Sam. We get you taken care of. Then we go from there. Okay?"

It was easier to concentrate on the small things…on one thing. Finish translating all of his father's ridiculous code, put together what they needed. They had a few weeks until the day. "Yeah, Dean. Okay. Lets start putting together lists of what we need."