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Entry tags:
The Kid, Part 18, Supernatural, PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: The Kid Part 18 ( All of The Kid can be found Here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Missouri
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2729
Summary: Dean is 18, Sam is 14. John is 8. Sam keeps looking for the answers, but maybe the answers are finding him as his gifts start to make themselves known.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
varkelton's fault. De-aging fic.
Pretty art provided byfallen_for_lost
Sam had all the pieces, every scrap of information, every note, every cipher, every thing out of the storage units that could possibly have everything to do with this, and still, he felt like he was missing something.
He sat in the midst of it on the living room floor at nearly 2am when he should have been in bed…but he was close. He knew he was.
He pushed the letters together. His father knew something. Something more than any of them said on their own. Sam growled in frustration and rubbed at his head. He tried cracking his neck, but it was stiff and uncooperative and it didn't help. His vision swam a little as he heard a creak on the stairs. His breath caught in his throat as everything got dark and suddenly he was seeing devastation, a city in ashes, dead bodies scattered around him. "No." Sam gasped, turning his head, trying to find his way out of whatever this was.
Black clouds came flying at him and he held up his hands, but they were dripping blood. "NO!" Sam screamed, backpedaling away from dark-eyed faces that were reaching for him. He turned, tripping and falling, only to land on his back, looking up into the face of a man with yellow eyes. A bloody finger rubbed over his mouth and Sam felt his lips parting, his tongue reaching for the blood, sucking it into him…then there was fire and he was being lifted and his father's presence closed around him, so strong it was as if he was really there, his heart beat loud against Sam's ear, his arms strong around him as he pulled Sam from the fire and thrust him into Dean's arms.
"Sam!" Dean's voice cut through the images and the pain.
Sam opened his eyes, looking up at John and Dean from amidst a pile of broken coffee table. His lip was bleeding. "Dean?"
Dean squatted next to him. "You okay?"
"I don't know?"
"He saw." John said, reaching for Dean's hand. "He saw like I see."
Dean's eyes were filled with fear. "Is that true?"
Sam tried to get up, letting Dean help him. "I…saw…something. I don't know what it was."
Dean rubbed over his face. "I'm calling Missouri. She needs to be here."
"Dean, it's the middle of the night." Sam said, not really wanting the psychic involved…not wanting her to see what he saw.
"Which leads me to wonder what in the hell you're doing down here."
Sam held up his hands. "I don't want to argue, okay?"
John was tugging on him and Sam turned his attention to him. "What Johnny?"
"You saw the black-inside man with yellow eyes."
Sam glanced at Dean, then back to John, dropping to one knee. "Yeah, I did."
"I was right, wasn't I?" John's eyes were big, his hand clutching Sam's. "You were like the baby in my dream. He put his black inside you."
Sam nodded. "He bled into my mouth."
John turned to Dean. "We have to protect him Dad. We have to keep Sam safe. Your Daddy isn't here to do it, so we have to."
Dean was reaching his saturation point, Sam could tell. "I'm going to be just fine, Johnny." Sam said, pushing up to standing again. He was going to be sore in the morning, he could tell. "I have you and Dean looking out for me. No one better in the whole world."
The images rushed into his head if he closed his eyes. Fear nibbled at him. "Lets clean this up in the morning." He steered John toward the stairs, with Dean trailing behind them, turning off lights.
They got John settled into bed and as Sam leaned in to kiss his forehead, John grabbed his face and looked deep into his eyes, nodding when whatever he saw there satisfied him.
Dean followed Sam to his room, standing in the door as Sam stripped out of his clothes. "I'm fine."
"I saw you, that wasn't fine."
He was right, it wasn't fine and Sam was terrified by it. "I guess now we know." Sam kept his back to his brother, trying to hide the fear. "Dad was right…I'm some kind of freak."
Dean moved into the room, standing behind Sam. "Tell me what you saw."
Sam shook his head. "I don't know….it was fast…there were bodies. I think…I think I killed them. Then…I was—" He huffed and ran his hands through his hair. "I think I saw when I was a baby, what happened the night Mom died. There was a man with yellow eyes and he had blood on his finger…he put his finger in my mouth." Sam trembled, tears falling from his eyes. "What does that mean, Dean?"
"I don't know Sam." Dean's hands were on his shoulders, warm and comforting. "You should get some sleep."
Sam nodded, but he didn't want to be alone. "Could you…would you stay?" He hadn't shared a room with his brother in years now, and a bed for longer. Dean didn't respond, just moved to the bed. Sam laid down and Dean climbed in beside him, letting Sam settle in against him.
Sam sighed, but didn't close his eyes. He didn't expect he'd sleep anytime soon.
It was almost a whole week, and two more devastating visions, one of them in front of Matt before Sam conceded to go see Missouri. He and Dean met her at the church. He hadn't even gotten all the way into Pastor Jim's office when she was holding out her arms and reeling him into a hug.
"Oh, child…you poor thing." Her hands soothed over his hair as she drew him over to the chair to sit. "Came up on you hard, didn't it?"
Sam shoved his trembling hands into his pockets, so she wouldn't see them. He didn't really look up at her. "I see things."
He could see her nodding out of the corner his eye. "And not very nice things." Her hands on his knees, turned him toward her. "You're going to have to let me in, Sam."
He blinked, lifting his eyes. "I don't know how." He whispered the words, wanting to pull Dean closer, wanting something to protect him from the dark that was lurking just under his conscious thought.
"Shhh…you're safe here." Missouri said, her hands rising up to cup his face. "Breathe deep and let it out slow."
Sam glanced up at Dean, who was standing by the bookshelf, arms crossed, his face set and hard. He swallowed and nodded, dragging in a shuddering breath and letting it go slowly, his eyes closing. The dark flashed with images, bright and bloody and moving fast. He could hear Missouri mumbling under her breath, but couldn't make out the words.
The images slowed as they replayed the scenes from his nursery, from the night his mother died and the yellow-eyed demon bled into him. Missouri made a sound like a snort, her hands sliding away from his face. Sam opened his eyes and looked at her. She sat back in her chair, obviously thinking through what she'd seen.
"That's a right powerful gift you have there, Samuel," she said after a long moment. "Right powerful."
"How do I make it go away?" Sam asked, glancing at Dean.
"Whoa there." Missouri looked at him with a frown. "You gonna just throw away what the good Lord gave you?"
"Lord?" Sam shook his head. "You saw what happened. That demon did this to me—"
"No, child, no. I can't be sure just what that thing was doing, but this gift of yours, that comes from your mother and your daddy, and the good Lord upstairs. It was yours from the day you were born, just like your daddy's was, just like mine."
Sam pushed himself out of the chair. "No. I don't want it…I don't want—"
"Be careful, Sam. Wishing things can make them so." Missouri took a deep breath. "You're confusing your gift with the things that gift is showing you."
Sam paced, pulling his hands through his hair. "If my gift is to see…and what I'm seeing is me doing…" He shuddered and pushed the images away. "…Me doing those terrible things…what…what am I supposed to think?"
"You see possibility, Sam. Possible futures. Gives you the power to change them."
Sam was back to trembling, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And what I saw of the past?"
"Helps you understand the possibilities, the reasons."
"Dad knew this would happen." He looked up at Dean. "He knew what that demon did."
"We don't know for sure." Dean said softly.
"Like hell, Dean. You heard John. His dream was exactly what I saw."
"John sees the same as you, Sam." Missouri interjected. "There isn't anything left that was your daddy, so if he saw something that is like what happened to you, you can bet history is planning on repeating itself."
Sam's heart beat a little faster. "Are you saying…he's going to…I mean…" He hadn't ever really considered that…that John would grow up, and possibly have kids…other kids.
Missouri chuckled. "You think he was going to stay a little boy the rest of his life?"
"No…I…" He looked to Dean for help, but he looked just as spooked by the idea.
"Can we focus on Sam for the moment?" Dean asked. "He's the one Dad was worried about. He's the one Dad got the amulet for."
Missouri's face darkened. "You boys ain't been messing with that, have you? That there's old magic. Not meant for children. Not meant for most mortals to be messing with."
"No." Dean said before Sam could say anything. "We aren't messing with it. I'm trying to keep my family safe, and if this amulet can make Sam safe—"
Missouri crowded Dean into the bookshelf. "You listen to me, Dean Winchester, you go playing with fire, you're gonna burn yourself, and them."
Dean held up his hands as if in surrender and she backed off a bit. "Now, Sam, we need to teach you some ways to handle these visions, control them some."
"I don't want to control them." Sam said. "I want them to go away."
She brushed a hand over his face. "Oh, honey, it ain't that easy. Even your daddy only managed to bury them for a time."
His stomach rumbled angrily and his head twinged, sudden stabbing pain through his temple. He grabbed at Dean for balance. "Shit." His knees buckled as the vision came.
John. Scared. The school seemed shadowed, dark. John was afraid of someone. He was hiding. His face turned toward Sam's.
"New teacher is black inside Sammy. He's hurting kids. Wants to hurt me."
Sam got flashes of a face, a teacher he didn't know, boys crying. "We have to help them."
Just as suddenly it was gone, leaving Sam on his knees, panting with Dean squatting beside him. "Sam?" His voice was gentle, but it grated over Sam's ears. His hand felt warm on Sam's back as Sam tried to catch his breath.
"John. I think…I think he's in trouble." Sam looked up at Dean. "I think there's a demon at his school molesting little boys."
"Was it future, Sam?" Missouri asked.
He shook his head. "I don't know…maybe?" He tried to feel for the vision, but there was no reference of time. "He was scared."
Dean stood. "He hasn't said anything about a new teacher or any demons at school."
"Maybe we should go check on him." Sam pressed himself to standing, breathing through the dizziness it brought on.
"I'll go." Dean said. "I want you to stay here."
Sam turned to him, already ready to argue. "I mean it, Sam. You're safer here. At least until we know what's going on."
"You can't expect me to just—"
Dean held up his hand. "Please don't argue with me on this." Sam met his eyes, read the fear there and gave in.
"Fine. I'll stay here."
"Good."
Dean headed for the door, pausing when it was obvious Missouri was following him. "Where are you going?"
"With you. You gonna figure out which one's a demon by asking them?"
Sam watched them go, following them out into the lobby. When the doors closed and he was alone, he headed into the sanctuary. It had been a while since he'd been in the church…he'd forgotten how good the quiet could feel.
He slipped into a pew and breathed in, willing the pain in his head to withdraw. He didn't like sitting and waiting. But, he didn't like how afraid Dean was even more. They had to figure this whole thing out…had to find away to stop this. He didn't know how or what all his father had known, but if it was enough to make John Winchester want to hide Sam from the rest of the hunters, and if it was going to keep demons coming after them…if it was going to lead to Sam becoming the man he saw in his visions? Sam was ready to do whatever his father had set up for him.
A shadow fell across him and Sam looked up. A man smiled softly at him and continued down the aisle, standing at the altar, staring up at the cross with a rapt expression. Somehow, Sam felt as though the man was still looking at him though.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Sam did not want to have a conversation about the aesthetics of church art. "I suppose."
The man turned, a half smile on his face. There was something…off about him. Sam felt the hair on his arms stand up and he slowly stood himself, inching into the aisle.
"Do not fear me."
He turned full on to Sam at that point and there was an odd flutter in his stomach, a twisting pull on his heart and he got the vaguest impression that the room got darker, and all the light in the room seemed to fall on him.
"Not…" Sam shook his head, backing away. "Takes a lot more than you to scare me."
He took a step closer. "I mean you no harm."
"Yeah, I've heard that before."
"Samuel Winchester, I am here to help you."
"How do you know my name?" Sam took another step back. This man was seriously making him nervous.
"I was sent for you."
"Who are you?"
The man cocked his head to the side and looked at Sam as though he were confused. "I am an Angel of the Lord, Samuel."
Sam didn't know whether to laugh or run. He settled for backing up even more, though now the man was advancing on him. "No, really…"
"I have a gift for you."
"No offence, dude, but I don't know you. I mean…angels don't…" Sam turned, ready to run, but before he'd taken two steps, the man was in front of him, holding his hand out. On his hand was a gun.
An antique looking gun.
"This is for you." He held it out to Sam who looked at it, then up at the man and back again. "You will find that the ammunition your father left you will only work with this gun."
Sam lifted his hand hesitantly. The metal of the gun was cool the touch. "What…what is it?"
"Your last line of defense."
Sam pulled the gun to him, letting his fingers caress the metal. "Do not use it idly."
"What does that mean?" Sam looked up, but the man was already leaving. "Hey!"
He stopped at the church doors, the sudden light making him hard to see. "We will meet again, Samuel Winchester."
Sam covered his eyes as the man stepped out into the sun, the light flaring around him and giving him the impression of…no, Sam wasn't even going to think that. He turned away, blinking to help his eyes adjust to the darker sanctuary. He held the gun. There was a pentagram carved in the hilt and the long lines of it were beautiful, the weight of it comfortable and familiar in his hand.
He sat back down on one of the pews. "Last line of defense." He shook his head and snorted. "Angel of the Lord my ass." Like he didn't have enough shit to deal with as it was.
Title: The Kid Part 18 ( All of The Kid can be found Here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, Missouri
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2729
Summary: Dean is 18, Sam is 14. John is 8. Sam keeps looking for the answers, but maybe the answers are finding him as his gifts start to make themselves known.
A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially
varkelton's fault. De-aging fic. Pretty art provided by
fallen_for_lostSam had all the pieces, every scrap of information, every note, every cipher, every thing out of the storage units that could possibly have everything to do with this, and still, he felt like he was missing something.
He sat in the midst of it on the living room floor at nearly 2am when he should have been in bed…but he was close. He knew he was.
He pushed the letters together. His father knew something. Something more than any of them said on their own. Sam growled in frustration and rubbed at his head. He tried cracking his neck, but it was stiff and uncooperative and it didn't help. His vision swam a little as he heard a creak on the stairs. His breath caught in his throat as everything got dark and suddenly he was seeing devastation, a city in ashes, dead bodies scattered around him. "No." Sam gasped, turning his head, trying to find his way out of whatever this was.
Black clouds came flying at him and he held up his hands, but they were dripping blood. "NO!" Sam screamed, backpedaling away from dark-eyed faces that were reaching for him. He turned, tripping and falling, only to land on his back, looking up into the face of a man with yellow eyes. A bloody finger rubbed over his mouth and Sam felt his lips parting, his tongue reaching for the blood, sucking it into him…then there was fire and he was being lifted and his father's presence closed around him, so strong it was as if he was really there, his heart beat loud against Sam's ear, his arms strong around him as he pulled Sam from the fire and thrust him into Dean's arms.
"Sam!" Dean's voice cut through the images and the pain.
Sam opened his eyes, looking up at John and Dean from amidst a pile of broken coffee table. His lip was bleeding. "Dean?"
Dean squatted next to him. "You okay?"
"I don't know?"
"He saw." John said, reaching for Dean's hand. "He saw like I see."
Dean's eyes were filled with fear. "Is that true?"
Sam tried to get up, letting Dean help him. "I…saw…something. I don't know what it was."
Dean rubbed over his face. "I'm calling Missouri. She needs to be here."
"Dean, it's the middle of the night." Sam said, not really wanting the psychic involved…not wanting her to see what he saw.
"Which leads me to wonder what in the hell you're doing down here."
Sam held up his hands. "I don't want to argue, okay?"
John was tugging on him and Sam turned his attention to him. "What Johnny?"
"You saw the black-inside man with yellow eyes."
Sam glanced at Dean, then back to John, dropping to one knee. "Yeah, I did."
"I was right, wasn't I?" John's eyes were big, his hand clutching Sam's. "You were like the baby in my dream. He put his black inside you."
Sam nodded. "He bled into my mouth."
John turned to Dean. "We have to protect him Dad. We have to keep Sam safe. Your Daddy isn't here to do it, so we have to."
Dean was reaching his saturation point, Sam could tell. "I'm going to be just fine, Johnny." Sam said, pushing up to standing again. He was going to be sore in the morning, he could tell. "I have you and Dean looking out for me. No one better in the whole world."
The images rushed into his head if he closed his eyes. Fear nibbled at him. "Lets clean this up in the morning." He steered John toward the stairs, with Dean trailing behind them, turning off lights.
They got John settled into bed and as Sam leaned in to kiss his forehead, John grabbed his face and looked deep into his eyes, nodding when whatever he saw there satisfied him.
Dean followed Sam to his room, standing in the door as Sam stripped out of his clothes. "I'm fine."
"I saw you, that wasn't fine."
He was right, it wasn't fine and Sam was terrified by it. "I guess now we know." Sam kept his back to his brother, trying to hide the fear. "Dad was right…I'm some kind of freak."
Dean moved into the room, standing behind Sam. "Tell me what you saw."
Sam shook his head. "I don't know….it was fast…there were bodies. I think…I think I killed them. Then…I was—" He huffed and ran his hands through his hair. "I think I saw when I was a baby, what happened the night Mom died. There was a man with yellow eyes and he had blood on his finger…he put his finger in my mouth." Sam trembled, tears falling from his eyes. "What does that mean, Dean?"
"I don't know Sam." Dean's hands were on his shoulders, warm and comforting. "You should get some sleep."
Sam nodded, but he didn't want to be alone. "Could you…would you stay?" He hadn't shared a room with his brother in years now, and a bed for longer. Dean didn't respond, just moved to the bed. Sam laid down and Dean climbed in beside him, letting Sam settle in against him.
Sam sighed, but didn't close his eyes. He didn't expect he'd sleep anytime soon.
It was almost a whole week, and two more devastating visions, one of them in front of Matt before Sam conceded to go see Missouri. He and Dean met her at the church. He hadn't even gotten all the way into Pastor Jim's office when she was holding out her arms and reeling him into a hug.
"Oh, child…you poor thing." Her hands soothed over his hair as she drew him over to the chair to sit. "Came up on you hard, didn't it?"
Sam shoved his trembling hands into his pockets, so she wouldn't see them. He didn't really look up at her. "I see things."
He could see her nodding out of the corner his eye. "And not very nice things." Her hands on his knees, turned him toward her. "You're going to have to let me in, Sam."
He blinked, lifting his eyes. "I don't know how." He whispered the words, wanting to pull Dean closer, wanting something to protect him from the dark that was lurking just under his conscious thought.
"Shhh…you're safe here." Missouri said, her hands rising up to cup his face. "Breathe deep and let it out slow."
Sam glanced up at Dean, who was standing by the bookshelf, arms crossed, his face set and hard. He swallowed and nodded, dragging in a shuddering breath and letting it go slowly, his eyes closing. The dark flashed with images, bright and bloody and moving fast. He could hear Missouri mumbling under her breath, but couldn't make out the words.
The images slowed as they replayed the scenes from his nursery, from the night his mother died and the yellow-eyed demon bled into him. Missouri made a sound like a snort, her hands sliding away from his face. Sam opened his eyes and looked at her. She sat back in her chair, obviously thinking through what she'd seen.
"That's a right powerful gift you have there, Samuel," she said after a long moment. "Right powerful."
"How do I make it go away?" Sam asked, glancing at Dean.
"Whoa there." Missouri looked at him with a frown. "You gonna just throw away what the good Lord gave you?"
"Lord?" Sam shook his head. "You saw what happened. That demon did this to me—"
"No, child, no. I can't be sure just what that thing was doing, but this gift of yours, that comes from your mother and your daddy, and the good Lord upstairs. It was yours from the day you were born, just like your daddy's was, just like mine."
Sam pushed himself out of the chair. "No. I don't want it…I don't want—"
"Be careful, Sam. Wishing things can make them so." Missouri took a deep breath. "You're confusing your gift with the things that gift is showing you."
Sam paced, pulling his hands through his hair. "If my gift is to see…and what I'm seeing is me doing…" He shuddered and pushed the images away. "…Me doing those terrible things…what…what am I supposed to think?"
"You see possibility, Sam. Possible futures. Gives you the power to change them."
Sam was back to trembling, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And what I saw of the past?"
"Helps you understand the possibilities, the reasons."
"Dad knew this would happen." He looked up at Dean. "He knew what that demon did."
"We don't know for sure." Dean said softly.
"Like hell, Dean. You heard John. His dream was exactly what I saw."
"John sees the same as you, Sam." Missouri interjected. "There isn't anything left that was your daddy, so if he saw something that is like what happened to you, you can bet history is planning on repeating itself."
Sam's heart beat a little faster. "Are you saying…he's going to…I mean…" He hadn't ever really considered that…that John would grow up, and possibly have kids…other kids.
Missouri chuckled. "You think he was going to stay a little boy the rest of his life?"
"No…I…" He looked to Dean for help, but he looked just as spooked by the idea.
"Can we focus on Sam for the moment?" Dean asked. "He's the one Dad was worried about. He's the one Dad got the amulet for."
Missouri's face darkened. "You boys ain't been messing with that, have you? That there's old magic. Not meant for children. Not meant for most mortals to be messing with."
"No." Dean said before Sam could say anything. "We aren't messing with it. I'm trying to keep my family safe, and if this amulet can make Sam safe—"
Missouri crowded Dean into the bookshelf. "You listen to me, Dean Winchester, you go playing with fire, you're gonna burn yourself, and them."
Dean held up his hands as if in surrender and she backed off a bit. "Now, Sam, we need to teach you some ways to handle these visions, control them some."
"I don't want to control them." Sam said. "I want them to go away."
She brushed a hand over his face. "Oh, honey, it ain't that easy. Even your daddy only managed to bury them for a time."
His stomach rumbled angrily and his head twinged, sudden stabbing pain through his temple. He grabbed at Dean for balance. "Shit." His knees buckled as the vision came.
John. Scared. The school seemed shadowed, dark. John was afraid of someone. He was hiding. His face turned toward Sam's.
"New teacher is black inside Sammy. He's hurting kids. Wants to hurt me."
Sam got flashes of a face, a teacher he didn't know, boys crying. "We have to help them."
Just as suddenly it was gone, leaving Sam on his knees, panting with Dean squatting beside him. "Sam?" His voice was gentle, but it grated over Sam's ears. His hand felt warm on Sam's back as Sam tried to catch his breath.
"John. I think…I think he's in trouble." Sam looked up at Dean. "I think there's a demon at his school molesting little boys."
"Was it future, Sam?" Missouri asked.
He shook his head. "I don't know…maybe?" He tried to feel for the vision, but there was no reference of time. "He was scared."
Dean stood. "He hasn't said anything about a new teacher or any demons at school."
"Maybe we should go check on him." Sam pressed himself to standing, breathing through the dizziness it brought on.
"I'll go." Dean said. "I want you to stay here."
Sam turned to him, already ready to argue. "I mean it, Sam. You're safer here. At least until we know what's going on."
"You can't expect me to just—"
Dean held up his hand. "Please don't argue with me on this." Sam met his eyes, read the fear there and gave in.
"Fine. I'll stay here."
"Good."
Dean headed for the door, pausing when it was obvious Missouri was following him. "Where are you going?"
"With you. You gonna figure out which one's a demon by asking them?"
Sam watched them go, following them out into the lobby. When the doors closed and he was alone, he headed into the sanctuary. It had been a while since he'd been in the church…he'd forgotten how good the quiet could feel.
He slipped into a pew and breathed in, willing the pain in his head to withdraw. He didn't like sitting and waiting. But, he didn't like how afraid Dean was even more. They had to figure this whole thing out…had to find away to stop this. He didn't know how or what all his father had known, but if it was enough to make John Winchester want to hide Sam from the rest of the hunters, and if it was going to keep demons coming after them…if it was going to lead to Sam becoming the man he saw in his visions? Sam was ready to do whatever his father had set up for him.
A shadow fell across him and Sam looked up. A man smiled softly at him and continued down the aisle, standing at the altar, staring up at the cross with a rapt expression. Somehow, Sam felt as though the man was still looking at him though.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Sam did not want to have a conversation about the aesthetics of church art. "I suppose."
The man turned, a half smile on his face. There was something…off about him. Sam felt the hair on his arms stand up and he slowly stood himself, inching into the aisle.
"Do not fear me."
He turned full on to Sam at that point and there was an odd flutter in his stomach, a twisting pull on his heart and he got the vaguest impression that the room got darker, and all the light in the room seemed to fall on him.
"Not…" Sam shook his head, backing away. "Takes a lot more than you to scare me."
He took a step closer. "I mean you no harm."
"Yeah, I've heard that before."
"Samuel Winchester, I am here to help you."
"How do you know my name?" Sam took another step back. This man was seriously making him nervous.
"I was sent for you."
"Who are you?"
The man cocked his head to the side and looked at Sam as though he were confused. "I am an Angel of the Lord, Samuel."
Sam didn't know whether to laugh or run. He settled for backing up even more, though now the man was advancing on him. "No, really…"
"I have a gift for you."
"No offence, dude, but I don't know you. I mean…angels don't…" Sam turned, ready to run, but before he'd taken two steps, the man was in front of him, holding his hand out. On his hand was a gun.
An antique looking gun.
"This is for you." He held it out to Sam who looked at it, then up at the man and back again. "You will find that the ammunition your father left you will only work with this gun."
Sam lifted his hand hesitantly. The metal of the gun was cool the touch. "What…what is it?"
"Your last line of defense."
Sam pulled the gun to him, letting his fingers caress the metal. "Do not use it idly."
"What does that mean?" Sam looked up, but the man was already leaving. "Hey!"
He stopped at the church doors, the sudden light making him hard to see. "We will meet again, Samuel Winchester."
Sam covered his eyes as the man stepped out into the sun, the light flaring around him and giving him the impression of…no, Sam wasn't even going to think that. He turned away, blinking to help his eyes adjust to the darker sanctuary. He held the gun. There was a pentagram carved in the hilt and the long lines of it were beautiful, the weight of it comfortable and familiar in his hand.
He sat back down on one of the pews. "Last line of defense." He shook his head and snorted. "Angel of the Lord my ass." Like he didn't have enough shit to deal with as it was.