The Calling, Supernatural, Kid!Verse, PG
Nov. 8th, 2009 07:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: The Calling (a Kid!Verse story, all of Kid!verse linked here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean/OFC, John, Sam, OFC
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Summary: Sam is 18 and graduating from high school. His plate is pretty full with preparing to go to college, taking his best friend to the prom and dealing with his brother, and his eleven year old father. Dean is 22, and fairly settled into his life with a girlfriend, John and Sam. Of course, that's when events conspire to turn their entire world upside down once more.
Pretty art provided by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fallen_for_lost
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for the generouskpen. I hope you enjoy!
Sam huffed and shoved a pillow over his face, pressing it down around his ears trying to block out the overwhelming sense of his brother in the next room…or more to the point, what his brother was doing in the next room.
It wasn't that he was eavesdropping. Hell, if he could turn it off, he would. The last thing he wanted to listen to was his brother and Sarah rounding home for the third time since they'd gone to bed.
The problem was, he couldn't turn it off.
While he had learned a lot of control in the three years since Castiel had helped him overcome the influence of the demon that killed his mother, that had all seemed to explode on the night of Sam's 18th birthday.
For more than a month he'd been on sensory overload. It wasn't even just his extra senses. His hearing and smell and vision sometimes were so heightened he couldn't function.
Like right now. He could hear every moan and whisper and--"Oh for fuck's sake!"
He sat up and reached for his CD player, settling the headphones over his ears and turning it up until he couldn't hear his brother's imminent orgasm. He laid back down and focused on blocking out the rest of his senses to get a few more hours of sleep.
He didn't know the reasons for the sudden hyper-sensitive senses. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It had been a fairly normal day, with school and homework, and Dean taking them out to dinner.
He'd called Beth when they got home and met her in the park to listen to her gripe about her latest problems with the boy she was dating and they sat on the swings, looking up at the stars. Sam stayed after she left, because he liked the quiet. The stars were really bright and there had be a few that seemed to catch his eye, twinkling at him until he finally pulled himself out of his head and went home.
When he woke up the next morning, everything seemed to be on high. He could hear John thinking like he was standing in the room talking. He knew Dean and Sarah were arguing about left over cake not being breakfast in the kitchen. He could hear the sound of the street sweeper three blocks away and the dreams of the woman next door. When he opened his eyes, the light nearly blinded him, searing his brain until he rolled over and covered his head.
Eventually everything dialed back enough that it didn't hurt to just breathe, but randomly one or more sense would ratchet up and his ability to see and hear never quite settled again.
He hadn't told anyone, though he suspected John had figured it out, because John always seemed to know whenever anything was going on with Sam. Not that John would say anything right now anyway.
He'd barely said a word to Sam since he'd gotten the letter from Stanford. He was angry at even the idea that Sam would leave them.
Dean wasn't thrilled either, but at least he tried to pretend he was happy. Sam could tell he wasn't though. He was worried about how he was going to manage John without Sam, how Sam would take care of himself, about the cost of getting Sam to school and all the money that the scholarship didn't cover.
Sam sighed and sat up. Obviously sleep wasn't happening. He sat up and pulled the headphones off, tossing them on the bed with the CD player. At least it sounded like Dean and Sarah were done with the latest bout. He pulled sweats on over his underwear and grabbed a t-shirt off the dresser. Sam shielded his eyes and opened his bedroom door, never sure anymore if the light was going to kill him.
He could hear the television in the living room, though the house was mostly gloomy. The forecast for rain must have been right. He glanced at the clock as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Just after seven AM. John grunted at him, his eyes never leaving the cartoon he was engrossed in.
"Couldn't sleep?" Sam asked, stopping near the chair.
"Dad." John answered, still not looking up.
That Sam understood. "You're lucky you're not in the next room. You want breakfast?"
"No."
Sam sighed and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. He had to find a way to make John understand that college was a good thing…especially with a full scholarship. Right now all the kid could see was that his big brother was leaving him.
"Good Morning, Samuel."
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. "Holy Fucking Hell."
Castiel cocked his head to the side. "I am unfamiliar with that greeting."
Sam huffed and moved around him. "It's the one you get when you scare a guy who doesn't know that there's a fucking angel in his kitchen at 7am."
Castiel didn't respond and Sam shook his head. He poured water into the coffee maker and rummaged around the cupboard looking for the coffee. He didn't speak until he'd turned the pot on and even then, he turned with his back to the counter and stared at Castiel for a long minute.
"It's been a while."
"I told you I would return."
"Yeah, three years ago. A little warning would be nice."
Castiel frowned at him. "I sent you word over a month ago."
"No you didn't."
"I sent a message, to keep aware for signs. You were prepared, so that you could watch, grow…be ready for our call."
Sam frowned and pulled down a coffee cup. "Wait…is that why my head is all haywire?"
"Haywire?"
"I can hear people thinking, my senses are all on hyper and I can't control them."
"So that you may see the signs of our approach, so that you can see the truth of things, locate what is hidden." Castiel said as if it should be obvious.
"Well, thank you so much for the explanation. I've been going crazy." Sam dumped sugar into his cup and went to get the milk from the fridge. "You know, it helps me to know your method of contact before the actual contact."
"I am sorry. I was not aware you would not understand."
"So, why are you here?" Sam sniffed at the milk, then poured a small amount into the cup. He glared at the coffee pot as if he could make it brew faster by wishing for it.
"You are not that strong yet, Samuel. And it would be a trivial use of your gift."
"What?" Sam looked up at him. "Are you reading me?"
"My blood is inside you, I feel you because of it."
"No, that's not creepy at all." Sam crossed his arms. "So…you're here because…why?"
"I fear we have need of your help, Samuel."
"Help with what?"
"Does it matter?"
Sam frowned at the angel, then turned to the coffee and, deeming it done enough, he pulled the pot out, pouring it into his cup before shoving it back into the maker. "Yes, it matters."
"You are being called to service." Castiel looked at him like he was insane to argue.
"You're the angel. What is it you need from me?" Sam turned to the table. He sat, blowing lightly on the coffee before taking a sip.
"That is…complicated." Castiel looked consternated and impatient.
"Well, try me anyway."
"Perhaps it would be best to show you." Castiel reached out a hand, but Sam pulled away.
"Yeah, no. I don't think so. Use your words, or go away. I'm not interested in your funky time traveling mojo."
Castiel looked even more put out. "You are not taking this seriously, Samuel."
Sam looked him in the eye. "Look, I'm sure this is very serious and you're very concerned and you really, really need my help…but I have my own problems, okay? I've got John in there so angry with me he won't talk to me, and finals week is barely over, and to top it all off I'm taking my best friend to the Prom tonight because her boyfriend dumped her last week and she's hysterical over it. I have to figure out how to get to the other side of the country by the end of August to start school, figure out what I want to study, and all of that with these so called gifts of mine so out of control because you wanted to reach out and touch someone that I can't stand to even be around people sometimes and have to go find the deepest, darkest place I can to hide."
He stood, leaving the coffee on the table. "And I didn't even want to go to Prom." He stalked away, not really sure where, but feeling the need to leave the angel, even if only for a moment. He was sure he'd only find Castiel wherever he ended up. He came face to face with Sarah who smiled at him, despite the waves of nausea he could feel rolling off of her.
"Morning, Sam."
He turned to look over his shoulder, but Castiel was gone. "Coffee's almost ready."
She peered around the door. "Were you talking to yourself?"
"Probably." Sam muttered, then shook his head. "Practicing something. English class finals, we have to do a scene out of one of the plays." He shook his head. It was mostly true, but he was done with his finals, having gotten out of the English one with his just shy of perfect grade. He didn't like lying to her. "Dean awake?"
"Shower." She moved past him, her hand brushing his arm and Sam could feel the nausea, a sense of things being off. He breathed in and he could taste the toothpaste she used to clean her mouth after throwing up, the odd thick feeling, the rhythmic beat of her heart, echoed by a different sound…similar, but…faster, lighter.
He gasped and turned, his eyes wide. "Sarah…"
She frowned at him, but must have known what he had guessed at. "Damn it. Did Lizzy tell you?"
He shook his head. "Beth didn't say anything. You…just…I heard you throwing up…and I…you…" He couldn't explain to her how he knew. He stepped back into the kitchen and lowered his voice. "Does Dean know?"
She deflated into the chair he'd left out from the table. "I…I've been trying to decide what to do about it."
Sam nodded and pulled out the chair next to hers. "And?"
She shook her head. "I don't know." A tear slipped past her eye and she wiped it away. "I don't want to put this on him though. He already works so hard."
Sam took her hand. "Dean would want to know, Sarah. Even if you decide not to keep it."
"Keep what?" Dean asked as he came in the kitchen, his hair still wet. He was dressed for work and crossed directly to the coffee pot. "You aren't making a move on my girl."
Sam rolled his eyes and stood. "Of course not Dean."
"Oh, I forgot, you're not like that." He waggled his eyebrows. "Did John tell you Matt called last night while you were out picking up your tux?"
Sam sighed. "No."
"What's the matter Sam? You and loverboy not getting along?"
Sam rolled his eyes and stood. "I told you, he's just a friend." They had been more, even to the point that they'd gone well past making out and heavy petting the summer before when Matt had been home from school, but they both knew that it was over and they'd decided to go back to being friends before Matt left for his sophomore year at Yale.
"Is he upset that you're taking a girl to the Prom?"
Sarah stood up and poked Dean in the stomach. "Leave Sam be."
Sam rolled his eyes and saw it as his opportunity to leave the conversation. "If you two are done using the whole upstairs as your personal playground, I'm going to see if I can get a few hours of sleep."
He knew before he even got to the top of the stairs that he wasn't going to get that sleep. Castiel was waiting for him. Sam was tempted to turn around and run out the front door…but Castiel would just find him again.
He opened the bedroom door to find the angel sitting on his bed, his eyes closed as he leaned against the headboard in a position that Sam couldn't imagine was very comfortable.
"Your brother sings in the shower." The angel's eyes opened. "Badly, and very off key."
Sam pulled a hand through his hair and closed the door. "His girlfriend is here. You should be more careful."
"You are the one who should be more careful Sam. These are dangerous times and you are wanted by demons."
"I haven't seen a single demon in over two years." Sam countered. He crossed to the desk and opened the drawer, pulling out his journal and tossing it on the bed. "No ghosts, witches, werewolves, vampires, ghouls, shape shifters…not in at least six months."
"Does that not strike you as a little strange?" Castiel stood. "The forces of evil have retreated from many places."
"That's a good thing, right?" Sam asked, keeping his difference. He didn't want Castiel pulling his little mojo transportation thing without Sam agreeing to go anywhere.
"They gather, and where evil gathers darkness follows."
Sam shook his head. "Practiced that one a while, did ya?"
Suddenly Castiel was shoving him into the wall. "You would do well to listen to me Samuel. I am not one of your classmates or your brother. I deserve your respect."
Chaos. Darkness. Screams. Battle. A sword sings through the air, slicing through fetid flesh. Demons writhe on the ground, half corporeal, half inky blackness, slithering around the bodies of the fallen, around the ankles of warriors attempting to cut through the horde. Blinding white light spills from somewhere, cutting through everything, laying the scene barren, sterile.
Sam gasped in and shoved Castiel away. "What the fuck was that?"
Castiel looked away and seemed even more uncomfortable than he'd been before. "I apologize."
"Don't apologize, tell me what the fuck it was."
"A memory. It is nothing."
"Clearly it isn't nothing." Sam said, wiping a hand across his mouth. "Tell me why you were thinking of that just then."
Castiel walked away and when he spoke he kept his back to Sam. "The last time this happened was two millennia ago. There was war brewing between the forces of darkness and the forces of God. Children were recruited by demons and used as weapons, arch-angels were caught and held prisoner. It was a time of great darkness."
"What happened?"
Castiel looked at him, his face unreadable. "Death and destruction, illness, war, plagues. Many lives were lost, and the world would have plunged into darkness but for the grace of one young man."
Sam didn't like the sound of that, or the way the angel was looking at him. "Who?"
"One like you. Chosen. Marked by gifts given him by our Father. A child of God."
Sam frowned and shook his head. "That doesn't tell me anything."
Castiel lifted his chin. "We are wasting time. If you would let me show you, you would understand."
"How did this man fix it?"
"He answered the call."
Sam sighed in frustration. "You don't explain things well." He took two steps and grabbed the angel's hand, lowering what little guards he had left and pushing himself into the memory.
Chaos. Darkness. Screams. Battle. A sword sings through the air, slicing through fetid flesh. Demons writhe on the ground, half corporeal, half inky blackness, slithering around the bodies of the fallen, around the ankles of warriors attempting to cut through the horde. Blinding white light spills from somewhere, cutting through everything, laying the scene barren, sterile.
Castiel stands with others, kneels as the light moves. His eyes drop to the ground, the light too bright. He is filled with Love and devotion, gratitude. A hand touches him and a feeling of "Well done" washes over him.
Then, nearly as suddenly as it came, the light fades and in the center of the quiet, a young man falls to his knees, to the ground…
Sam stumbled back, his knees giving way. He had never tried so consciously before to read someone. He fell back onto the bed, panting. "He was…possessed."
"In a manner of speaking." Castiel agreed, coming to kneel beside him. He lifted a hand, brushing it over Sam's cheek. "He was a vessel."
Sam shivered. "For what?"
"Who." Castiel corrected, his voice soft. His eyes were sparkling and Sam felt an echo of that same love and devotion in him. "For God, Samuel."
Understanding came over him slowly and he pulled away. "You…you want me…" He shook his head. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Castiel shook his head lightly. "You are truly honored, Samuel. It is rare and wondrous and those who have been chosen before you have been blessed with abilities to heal and know things no other mortal can know. It is a rare gift."
Sam shook his head. "No." He opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out. He shoved Castiel away, knocking him backwards. "You have to go. Now."
"Samuel, we need you."
"Find someone else."
"I realize you are scared. Come with me and fulfill the destiny God has given you."
"No." Sam was sweating and shaking, the image of that young man as the light left him, the ecstasy on his face as his eyes rolled back and his body collapsed. Castiel had helped stand the watch around him as he lay recovering.
"If you do not help us, many will die. Lucifer will rise. Azazel's plan to keep you from your destiny will come to fruition. All that you have fought for, all that you believe will be as sand in the wind."
"Don't lay that on me." Sam said. "I'm only 18. I'm just a kid."
Castiel's hand on his shoulder was gentle. "He was only 13 when he was called. His gifts barely begun to manifest as more than wisdom."
Sam closed his eyes. With Castiel touching him, he could see the boy as he was before the calling, young…at play with his brothers, in the synagogue with his father. "How long?"
Castiel moved his hand and turned away. "How long, Castiel? How many years was he a doorstop before he was able to function again?"
"Many." Castiel replied. "There is a reason that his story stops at twelve and resumes again when he is older."
Sam turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing. "Are you telling me…"
"I am asking you to come with me and all your questions will be answered." Castiel held out his hand and Sam stared at it for a minute, then slowly shook his head. "No. If it's that important, it can wait another twenty four hours."
"Wait?" Castiel's hand dropped.
"Yes. Wait. I have…I have things I need to take care of. First. Before I go anywhere. Before you tell me everything." He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I need to be sure my brother knows he's going to be a father…for real this time. And I'm going to get John to talk to me, even if it's just to say goodbye. And then, I'm going to take my best friend to the Prom and show her the best night of her life. When it's over, then, and only then, will I come with you."
Sam sat for almost an hour on the bed after Castiel left. He couldn't think or move. He was pretty sure a house could fall down around him and he wouldn't be able to move.
It was Dean's voice in the hall that roused him. Dean should have been at work. Sam stood up and went to the door. Dean was just topping the stairs, looking annoyed.
"Shouldn't you be at work?"
"Yeah, I should be, but I'm not. I was accosted by your goddamn guardian angel before I could get out of the damn car."
"Castiel? Came to you?"
"He told me he needed you and you needed me so I was to come straight home. I told Smitty I wasn't feeling so good and here I am. So why am I here?"
Sam sighed and pulled his hand through his hair. "Shit. I'm sorry. He was here…and I told him…he's really serious about this."
"Sam." Dean's voice was a growl.
"I shouldn't be the one to tell you." Sam started for the stairs, but Dean caught him and dragged him back.
"Tell me anyway."
Sam glanced down into the living room. John wasn't on the couch anymore.
"He went to the library with Max and Carter." Dean said.
"Okay…then lets go downstairs. I need a drink."
"You don't drink." Dean said frowning at him.
"I do today." Sam countered, leading the way into the kitchen. He pulled the bottle of cheap whiskey out of the cupboard and poured a little into two glasses. He handed one to his brother and sipped at the other. "So, I told Castiel that I wasn't going to talk to him until I had accomplished a few things."
"Talk to him about what?"
Sam didn't look at him, just sipped at the whiskey. It burned his tongue and all the way down as he swallowed. "What he wants from me."
"Which is?"
Sam sighed and sat at the table. "I'm not sure, exactly. But…I know enough to know I don't want to do it, and I may not have a choice and it's going to be…well…honestly, I don't know."
Dean's fist hit the table. "Damn it Sam you sound like him. Will you just answer the question?"
"He said I was a vessel."
Dean snorted and sat on the opposite side of the table. "For what?"
"Not what, Dean. Who. And you don't want to know."
"If you think I'm letting you run off and do whatever it is this freak wants you to do with nothing to go on—"
"It's not your choice Dean. It's mine." Sam said quietly. He shook his head and sipped the whiskey. "And that's not why he sent you to me."
Dean looked like he wanted to argue. "Okay, you're right. I'm not your father, and your eighteen, so the decision is yours. But Sam…you're freaking me out."
He sighed and nodded. "I know. And I'm sorry. Let me back up a little. You know how I've been a little…withdrawn lately?"
"I had noticed. I figured it was just end of school shit. You always get quiet when you're stressed."
"That's some of it." He closed his eyes. "Actually no, I'm lying. That isn't it at all. I'm not worried about finals or any of that. It's my…freak factor." He looked up at Dean. "Since my birthday my…senses, for lack of a better word, have been completely out of control. I can't shut them down, I can't shield for shit. I hear everything, I see everything, I feel everything. It's been making me crazy. Castiel says that it's preparation for what I'm being called to do."
"And we're back to cryptic."
Sam put both hands flat on the table. "Leave that part alone for a minute, okay? Now, because of this expansion of my gifts, I've been getting extra information from the people around me."
"Like what?" Dean asked.
Sam rolled his eyes. "John's been picking fights at school because he feels like things here at home are out of control, Mr. Bartholomew across the street is taking Viagra and is having an affair with his secretary, and her sister. Mrs. Bartholomew thinks he's working too hard and is secretly planning a trip to Bermuda for their 45th anniversary. You and Sarah had sex three times last night, and you stopped using condoms almost three months ago when you ran out and forgot to get more."
He met Dean's astonished eyes. His brother's mouth was hanging open. "You figured, you'd already done it, so continuing wasn't going to hurt, since she was on birth control."
"Okay that? That's fucking wrong." Dean tossed back his whiskey.
"Believe me, if I could turn it off, I would." Sam said. He swallowed the last of his whiskey too. "The problem is, Dean…Sarah's birth control got interrupted. Remember that respiratory infection she had? The antibiotics?"
Dean frowned at him. "What are you saying, Sam?"
"Fuck, do I have to spell it out for you?" Sam rubbed his hands over his face. "Sarah's pregnant, Dean. I'm guessing right around six weeks. She's afraid and she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't want you to feel like she's trapping you. She's afraid that you don't want more than what you have. Hell Dean, you've been sleeping with her for three years and never talked about marriage or kids and she's terrified that you've had your fill of being a daddy and won't want to have this kid too."
"Wait. Is that what you two were talking about this morning?"
Sam nodded.
"A baby?" Dean stood and paced around the room. "A baby. And…wait…she doesn't think I'd want it?"
"She's not sure you want her, Dean. You're not exactly the most romantic guy…and you sorta fell into a relationship with her because it was convenient. Have you ever told her you love her?" Sam frowned. "Do you love her?"
Dean scratched at the back of his head, then shrugged. "I don't know? I guess? I mean…" He stopped and stared at Sam. "What am I supposed to do?"
"I can't tell you that, Dean. You're a good father though. All these years with John…and look at him. He's a good kid. And you've practically raised me."
"Yeah, and look how that turned out." Dean smirked, but went right back to pacing.
"Just…you need to talk to her."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do."
Sam glanced at the clock, it was after noon already. He exhaled. "I have to go find John. I really need to talk to him. Can I borrow the car?"
Dean snorted. "Getting a little grabby with my car aren't you?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "You're not gonna need it. You're going down the street to Sarah's…and knowing you, you'll be a while. It's been a whole what? Five hours since you had sex last?"
"Very funny. Fine. Take the car. But you are not going anywhere with any angel until you tell me what the fuck is going on."
"I've got time. He's coming back tomorrow." Sam said, though it wasn't really a conversation he wanted to have with Dean. His brother would only get angry. Really angry, and he'd tell Sam no. Sam didn't want his last words to his brother to be a part of an argument. He swallowed and hoped that didn't show on his face.
He took the keys Dean was offering and headed out the front door. He had no idea what he could say to John that he hadn't already. But maybe he could start by offering him a little big brother time, since the lack of that seemed to be what was eating him.
He got about halfway to the library when he found John, walking toward home. He was alone, and had been in a scuffle by the looks of things. Sam pulled the Impala over next to him. "Hey, wanna ride?"
"Not especially." John said, not even stopping.
Sam put it in park and got out, leaning on the roof. "Come on, truce? I thought we could go grab some ice cream or something."
John stopped and looked at him. "What am I? Eight?"
Sam pressed his lips together. "Please? I need to talk to you."
John's eyes narrowed at him and he came to the passenger side of the car. "Fine, as long as I don't have to talk to you."
"You don't even have to eat the ice cream." Sam said, relaxing a little as he got in the passenger side.
Sam drove them into town, and parked in front of the small ice cream shop. He didn't say anything until they'd gotten inside and grabbed the booth all the way in the back. Sam smiled up at the waitress and ordered a root beer float. John ordered a banana sundae, leaning back in the booth and glaring at Sam.
Sam sighed and tried to decide where to start. "So, John…I know you're angry with me."
"No I'm not." John responded reflexively.
Sam looked him in the eye. "You think you can lie to me?"
John rolled his eyes and looked up as the waitress came to set their food down. "Dad told me I shouldn't be." John said, picking up his spoon. "That you got a right to get on with your life."
"Did he?" Sam opened his straw and used it to poke at the ice cream floating in his root beer. "You know college isn't the worst thing in the world, right?" His head flashed with images from Castiel's memory and John looked up suddenly.
"What was that?"
Sam shook his head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."
John reached for his hand and Sam pulled it away. "Now who's lying?"
"It's complicated."
"Which means you think I'm too young to understand." He picked at his banana split, spooning an obscene amount of ice cream and whipped cream into his mouth.
"Castiel came back." Sam figured maybe some truth would shake things up, make John realize his life wasn't so bad.
John squinted at him. "Why?"
"He needs me for something." Sam could see the wheels turning in John's eyes and realized that there was a lot more of his father in John's face than he was used to seeing.
"I don't want you to go."
"I'm not sure I want to go either, but I may not have a choice. So, I need you to do something for me." He wasn't the one who should be telling John about Dean and Sarah, especially when he wasn't even sure they were going to keep the baby, but he saw a chance to give John something to focus on other than him.
"Is this about Dad?" John asked, his former surly attitude seeming to evaporate.
Sam nodded. "Yes, but what I'm about to tell you has to stay a secret, okay?" He waited until John nodded his agreement. "Your Dad and Sarah are going to be having a baby."
John stopped mid-bite.
"Only, Sarah hasn't told Dean yet, and I'm not sure that they'll decide to actually have it, or how it's going to work or anything." Sam sipped at his float. "But, you're going to be the big brother."
"Are they going to get married? I had a dream that they got married and there was a baby sister."
It was Sam's turn to squint at him. "When was this?"
"Few weeks ago. Before you told me you were going to Stanford."
"I know it's a lot to ask, John. I was only a little older than you when you came to live with us, remember?"
"You aren't going to Stanford, are you?" John looked him in the eye, pinning him in place. Sam could almost feel him trying to read him.
He could lie, tell him he was just leaving a little early, that he'd do whatever it was Castiel needed him to, but honestly, Sam figured he'd know he was lying…and he had a sinking feeling that this was something he wasn't going to come back from. He didn't want their last meaningful conversation to be based around a lie.
"I don't know."
John's eyes were a little hazy as he worked at trying to read what Sam wasn't saying. "It's dangerous…what he wants you to do."
Sam nodded and drank from his float. "Yeah, I think it might be."
"You haven't told Dad."
"Not all of it, no."
John blinked and shook his head to clear it. "He's gonna be pissed."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, he probably will be."
They were quiet for a minute. "Are you scared?" John asked suddenly.
Truthfully, he was terrified. "Yeah, kid, I am. I don't really know what it is I need to do, and I saw, sort of, what happened to the last guy that did this…I may be gone for a while."
He squinted at Sam like he was trying to find something. "Are you going to be okay?"
Sam swallowed. "I think so. I mean…the last guy? He was…gone for a while, but when he came back, he was…something special. He ended up a healer and a teacher…and a whole religion started because of him."
"So you will come back. I mean, you're not going to die. Right?"
Sam exhaled. "I don't know, Johnny. I just…don't know."
They were quiet again for a bit as John finished his ice cream. "So I don't tell Dad I know about the baby, and I shouldn't tell him about you going away…is there anything else you'd like me to keep from him?"
Sam smiled. "No, that about covers it." He stood. "I need to get home and start getting ready for the prom, you want to come with?"
John stood too. "Yeah."
They headed for the car and Sam slung an arm around John's shoulders. "If I leave a note with you…for Dean…can you wait a day or two to give it to him?"
"Sure. Can I have your CD player?"
Sam chuckled and nodded. "You can have anything you want of mine."
He breathed out in relief as they pulled into the driveway. He'd asked for three things before the angel came back to take him…wherever it was they were going. He'd managed two of them and it was only two-thirty in the afternoon.
He left John on the couch watching television and headed up to shower. He was supposed to pick up Beth at five to meet up with friends for dinner, then on to the prom. He didn't let him think about what came after that.
If he closed his eyes, he could see it, the scene in Castiel's memory…the destruction, not just from the battle itself, but the ending of it. He stood under the hot spray and braced himself against the wall, letting the memory fill his head.
Chaos. Darkness. Screams. Battle. A sword sings through the air, slicing through fetid flesh. Demons writhe on the ground, half corporeal, half inky blackness, slithering around the bodies of the fallen, around the ankles of warriors attempting to cut through the horde. Blinding white light spills from somewhere, cutting through everything, laying the scene barren, sterile.
"Samuel." The voice is soft, filled with the sound of hundreds of voices, all combined into one sound.
Sam is suddenly not a part of Castiel's memory…he can see Castiel kneeling beside him. The light shifts, blinding him, surrounding him. He almost imagines he can see faces in the light, half familiar and yet strange and compelling, drawing him deeper.
He wants to speak, to ask something profound, but then he's being yanked backward, out of the embrace of the light. There's a brief image, a face with yellow eyes, a voice slithering around him, darkness eating at his awareness.
"Sam!"
John was pounding on the door to the bathroom as Sam snapped back into himself with a pop. The water was running cold and he was disoriented, dizzy. He held the wall and turned the water off before stepping out of the tub carefully.
"Just a minute." He got a towel wrapped around him and pulled a shaky hand through wet hair before he opened the door.
"You okay?" John asked breathlessly.
"I think so."
"The whole house got hot…then icy cold and I think there's…something outside."
Not just one something either. Sam could feel them now. "Did you check the salt lines?"
John nodded, his eyes wide. "Okay. We're okay for now. Let me put some clothes on."
He opened his door and jumped when he found Castiel. "I told you, tomorrow."
"Can you not sense them, Samuel? They are trying to prevent you from—"
Sam cut him off with a hand raised between them. "So get rid of them." He crossed to the window and looked out at the lawn. He could vaguely make out writhing shapes of…mist, gray and unformed. "I'm not going anywhere until after Prom."
"You are stubborn and wasting time."
"Hey, back off, Pal." John said, moving to stand between Sam and Castiel. "You need to let him have this. It's only fair with what you're asking him to do."
"You have no idea what he is called—"
John cut him off with a very Dean like snort. "I know enough. And if you think I'm going to let you take him away from us for god only knows how long, without letting him go to his prom? You got another thing coming."
"John." Sam reached for him, but John shrugged him off.
"No, Sam. I'm serious."
"I can see that." Sam inhaled and let it out slowly. "Okay, if you want me to go with you at all, you're going to give me tonight. I don't care how, but if that mess isn't cleaned up when I need to leave?" He waved a hand at the window. "I'm not going anywhere."
Castiel glowered at him, but Sam merely stared back until he huffed and left the room. The feeling of the demons outside receded. Not for the first time, Sam found himself wondering if he was simply being played and not just by the demons. "Thanks Johnny."
"You're a little underdressed, Sammy." John went to the door, offering Sam a smile, but it was strained, his eyes expressing his fear and the pain he wasn't speaking. So much like his father.
Sam stopped himself, blinking. He crossed to the door, watching John head down the stairs. He was more like Dean anymore. He licked his lips and pushed back a wave of emotion. He probably wouldn’t get a chance to see the man he might become. How he'd be different than the man he had been. What choices he might make.
The kid in the memory had been twelve when he was called, but seemed at least fifteen when he dropped to the ground. Three years gone, and that was before he was left comatose. Castiel hadn't been clear on how long the kid had been a dry board, but he knew from his own research through biblical texts that he was around thirty when he was next written about. Fifteen years.
Of course, modern medical technology was vastly improved, and maybe…Sam shook his head and forced himself to put it aside. He couldn't think about it and get through tonight.
It was close to midnight, and Beth lay her head on his shoulder as they danced, sighing softly. "You okay?" Sam asked, dancing them toward the edge of the dance floor.
She nodded. "Thank you, Sam. I know you didn't want to come."
He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Are you kidding? I had the prettiest date in the room."
"You're just saying that."
"Not on your life." Sam exhaled as they sat. He could feel Castiel nearby. He could feel Azazel too. They were circling in.
"We can go. I'm all danced out."
"You sure you don't want to stay?"
She yawned and lifted her wrap from the table. "Nah, let's…go someplace less…here."
He drove them home but when they pulled up in front of her house, she turned to him. "Can we…go sit in the park? Just for a little while?"
"Sure." He pulled up the block two houses, and parked on the street in front of his house. Dean was still up, Sam could see him moving around inside. Sarah was apparently with him, moving past the windows as they got out of the car.
"I think my sister and your brother got engaged today." Beth said, slipping her hand in his.
"Really?" He glanced over his shoulder, trying to get a read on them, but Beth distracted him.
"Yeah, she cried."
The melancholy that had been a part of Beth for the better part of the week deepened. She sighed and sat on a swing, bunching up the skirt of her gown to keep it out of the dirt.
"So I guess that means we'll be family." Sam said softly.
She smiled, but it didn't feel real. "I miss my father." She looked up at the stars.
He came to sit in the swing beside hers. "I miss mine too."
"I just…I wanted to thank you Sam…for being my best friend. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here."
"Beth—"
She shook her head. "I know, it's okay. I just…" She sighed again. "God, I don't know what's wrong with me. Jeremy Enblen is not worth this much drama."
"No, he isn't. He's a worthless slob who doesn't deserve to date your big toe, much less the rest of you." Sam pulled her swing closer. "I love you though, you know that right?"
She smiled at him. "Like the little sister you never had?"
"Something like that." He kissed her cheek. "Let me walk you home?"
She nodded and stood, letting him take her hand. They moved slowly, not talking. At the door, Sam raised both of her hands and kissed them lightly. "I'm going to miss you, Beth."
"Now who's being melodramatic?" She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "See you tomorrow?"
He closed his eyes so she wouldn't see the flare of fear in them and nodded. "Yeah…tomorrow."
She opened the door and disappeared inside. For a long moment Sam stood on her porch, before he turned and started home. Halfway between their houses, Castiel stood on the sidewalk.
Sam nodded to him. "I'm ready."
Title: The Calling (a Kid!Verse story, all of Kid!verse linked here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean/OFC, John, Sam, OFC
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Summary: Sam is 18 and graduating from high school. His plate is pretty full with preparing to go to college, taking his best friend to the prom and dealing with his brother, and his eleven year old father. Dean is 22, and fairly settled into his life with a girlfriend, John and Sam. Of course, that's when events conspire to turn their entire world upside down once more.
Pretty art provided by
fallen_for_lostA/Ns & Warnings: Written for the generous
kpen. I hope you enjoy!Sam huffed and shoved a pillow over his face, pressing it down around his ears trying to block out the overwhelming sense of his brother in the next room…or more to the point, what his brother was doing in the next room.
It wasn't that he was eavesdropping. Hell, if he could turn it off, he would. The last thing he wanted to listen to was his brother and Sarah rounding home for the third time since they'd gone to bed.
The problem was, he couldn't turn it off.
While he had learned a lot of control in the three years since Castiel had helped him overcome the influence of the demon that killed his mother, that had all seemed to explode on the night of Sam's 18th birthday.
For more than a month he'd been on sensory overload. It wasn't even just his extra senses. His hearing and smell and vision sometimes were so heightened he couldn't function.
Like right now. He could hear every moan and whisper and--"Oh for fuck's sake!"
He sat up and reached for his CD player, settling the headphones over his ears and turning it up until he couldn't hear his brother's imminent orgasm. He laid back down and focused on blocking out the rest of his senses to get a few more hours of sleep.
He didn't know the reasons for the sudden hyper-sensitive senses. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It had been a fairly normal day, with school and homework, and Dean taking them out to dinner.
He'd called Beth when they got home and met her in the park to listen to her gripe about her latest problems with the boy she was dating and they sat on the swings, looking up at the stars. Sam stayed after she left, because he liked the quiet. The stars were really bright and there had be a few that seemed to catch his eye, twinkling at him until he finally pulled himself out of his head and went home.
When he woke up the next morning, everything seemed to be on high. He could hear John thinking like he was standing in the room talking. He knew Dean and Sarah were arguing about left over cake not being breakfast in the kitchen. He could hear the sound of the street sweeper three blocks away and the dreams of the woman next door. When he opened his eyes, the light nearly blinded him, searing his brain until he rolled over and covered his head.
Eventually everything dialed back enough that it didn't hurt to just breathe, but randomly one or more sense would ratchet up and his ability to see and hear never quite settled again.
He hadn't told anyone, though he suspected John had figured it out, because John always seemed to know whenever anything was going on with Sam. Not that John would say anything right now anyway.
He'd barely said a word to Sam since he'd gotten the letter from Stanford. He was angry at even the idea that Sam would leave them.
Dean wasn't thrilled either, but at least he tried to pretend he was happy. Sam could tell he wasn't though. He was worried about how he was going to manage John without Sam, how Sam would take care of himself, about the cost of getting Sam to school and all the money that the scholarship didn't cover.
Sam sighed and sat up. Obviously sleep wasn't happening. He sat up and pulled the headphones off, tossing them on the bed with the CD player. At least it sounded like Dean and Sarah were done with the latest bout. He pulled sweats on over his underwear and grabbed a t-shirt off the dresser. Sam shielded his eyes and opened his bedroom door, never sure anymore if the light was going to kill him.
He could hear the television in the living room, though the house was mostly gloomy. The forecast for rain must have been right. He glanced at the clock as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Just after seven AM. John grunted at him, his eyes never leaving the cartoon he was engrossed in.
"Couldn't sleep?" Sam asked, stopping near the chair.
"Dad." John answered, still not looking up.
That Sam understood. "You're lucky you're not in the next room. You want breakfast?"
"No."
Sam sighed and headed for the kitchen to make coffee. He had to find a way to make John understand that college was a good thing…especially with a full scholarship. Right now all the kid could see was that his big brother was leaving him.
"Good Morning, Samuel."
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. "Holy Fucking Hell."
Castiel cocked his head to the side. "I am unfamiliar with that greeting."
Sam huffed and moved around him. "It's the one you get when you scare a guy who doesn't know that there's a fucking angel in his kitchen at 7am."
Castiel didn't respond and Sam shook his head. He poured water into the coffee maker and rummaged around the cupboard looking for the coffee. He didn't speak until he'd turned the pot on and even then, he turned with his back to the counter and stared at Castiel for a long minute.
"It's been a while."
"I told you I would return."
"Yeah, three years ago. A little warning would be nice."
Castiel frowned at him. "I sent you word over a month ago."
"No you didn't."
"I sent a message, to keep aware for signs. You were prepared, so that you could watch, grow…be ready for our call."
Sam frowned and pulled down a coffee cup. "Wait…is that why my head is all haywire?"
"Haywire?"
"I can hear people thinking, my senses are all on hyper and I can't control them."
"So that you may see the signs of our approach, so that you can see the truth of things, locate what is hidden." Castiel said as if it should be obvious.
"Well, thank you so much for the explanation. I've been going crazy." Sam dumped sugar into his cup and went to get the milk from the fridge. "You know, it helps me to know your method of contact before the actual contact."
"I am sorry. I was not aware you would not understand."
"So, why are you here?" Sam sniffed at the milk, then poured a small amount into the cup. He glared at the coffee pot as if he could make it brew faster by wishing for it.
"You are not that strong yet, Samuel. And it would be a trivial use of your gift."
"What?" Sam looked up at him. "Are you reading me?"
"My blood is inside you, I feel you because of it."
"No, that's not creepy at all." Sam crossed his arms. "So…you're here because…why?"
"I fear we have need of your help, Samuel."
"Help with what?"
"Does it matter?"
Sam frowned at the angel, then turned to the coffee and, deeming it done enough, he pulled the pot out, pouring it into his cup before shoving it back into the maker. "Yes, it matters."
"You are being called to service." Castiel looked at him like he was insane to argue.
"You're the angel. What is it you need from me?" Sam turned to the table. He sat, blowing lightly on the coffee before taking a sip.
"That is…complicated." Castiel looked consternated and impatient.
"Well, try me anyway."
"Perhaps it would be best to show you." Castiel reached out a hand, but Sam pulled away.
"Yeah, no. I don't think so. Use your words, or go away. I'm not interested in your funky time traveling mojo."
Castiel looked even more put out. "You are not taking this seriously, Samuel."
Sam looked him in the eye. "Look, I'm sure this is very serious and you're very concerned and you really, really need my help…but I have my own problems, okay? I've got John in there so angry with me he won't talk to me, and finals week is barely over, and to top it all off I'm taking my best friend to the Prom tonight because her boyfriend dumped her last week and she's hysterical over it. I have to figure out how to get to the other side of the country by the end of August to start school, figure out what I want to study, and all of that with these so called gifts of mine so out of control because you wanted to reach out and touch someone that I can't stand to even be around people sometimes and have to go find the deepest, darkest place I can to hide."
He stood, leaving the coffee on the table. "And I didn't even want to go to Prom." He stalked away, not really sure where, but feeling the need to leave the angel, even if only for a moment. He was sure he'd only find Castiel wherever he ended up. He came face to face with Sarah who smiled at him, despite the waves of nausea he could feel rolling off of her.
"Morning, Sam."
He turned to look over his shoulder, but Castiel was gone. "Coffee's almost ready."
She peered around the door. "Were you talking to yourself?"
"Probably." Sam muttered, then shook his head. "Practicing something. English class finals, we have to do a scene out of one of the plays." He shook his head. It was mostly true, but he was done with his finals, having gotten out of the English one with his just shy of perfect grade. He didn't like lying to her. "Dean awake?"
"Shower." She moved past him, her hand brushing his arm and Sam could feel the nausea, a sense of things being off. He breathed in and he could taste the toothpaste she used to clean her mouth after throwing up, the odd thick feeling, the rhythmic beat of her heart, echoed by a different sound…similar, but…faster, lighter.
He gasped and turned, his eyes wide. "Sarah…"
She frowned at him, but must have known what he had guessed at. "Damn it. Did Lizzy tell you?"
He shook his head. "Beth didn't say anything. You…just…I heard you throwing up…and I…you…" He couldn't explain to her how he knew. He stepped back into the kitchen and lowered his voice. "Does Dean know?"
She deflated into the chair he'd left out from the table. "I…I've been trying to decide what to do about it."
Sam nodded and pulled out the chair next to hers. "And?"
She shook her head. "I don't know." A tear slipped past her eye and she wiped it away. "I don't want to put this on him though. He already works so hard."
Sam took her hand. "Dean would want to know, Sarah. Even if you decide not to keep it."
"Keep what?" Dean asked as he came in the kitchen, his hair still wet. He was dressed for work and crossed directly to the coffee pot. "You aren't making a move on my girl."
Sam rolled his eyes and stood. "Of course not Dean."
"Oh, I forgot, you're not like that." He waggled his eyebrows. "Did John tell you Matt called last night while you were out picking up your tux?"
Sam sighed. "No."
"What's the matter Sam? You and loverboy not getting along?"
Sam rolled his eyes and stood. "I told you, he's just a friend." They had been more, even to the point that they'd gone well past making out and heavy petting the summer before when Matt had been home from school, but they both knew that it was over and they'd decided to go back to being friends before Matt left for his sophomore year at Yale.
"Is he upset that you're taking a girl to the Prom?"
Sarah stood up and poked Dean in the stomach. "Leave Sam be."
Sam rolled his eyes and saw it as his opportunity to leave the conversation. "If you two are done using the whole upstairs as your personal playground, I'm going to see if I can get a few hours of sleep."
He knew before he even got to the top of the stairs that he wasn't going to get that sleep. Castiel was waiting for him. Sam was tempted to turn around and run out the front door…but Castiel would just find him again.
He opened the bedroom door to find the angel sitting on his bed, his eyes closed as he leaned against the headboard in a position that Sam couldn't imagine was very comfortable.
"Your brother sings in the shower." The angel's eyes opened. "Badly, and very off key."
Sam pulled a hand through his hair and closed the door. "His girlfriend is here. You should be more careful."
"You are the one who should be more careful Sam. These are dangerous times and you are wanted by demons."
"I haven't seen a single demon in over two years." Sam countered. He crossed to the desk and opened the drawer, pulling out his journal and tossing it on the bed. "No ghosts, witches, werewolves, vampires, ghouls, shape shifters…not in at least six months."
"Does that not strike you as a little strange?" Castiel stood. "The forces of evil have retreated from many places."
"That's a good thing, right?" Sam asked, keeping his difference. He didn't want Castiel pulling his little mojo transportation thing without Sam agreeing to go anywhere.
"They gather, and where evil gathers darkness follows."
Sam shook his head. "Practiced that one a while, did ya?"
Suddenly Castiel was shoving him into the wall. "You would do well to listen to me Samuel. I am not one of your classmates or your brother. I deserve your respect."
Chaos. Darkness. Screams. Battle. A sword sings through the air, slicing through fetid flesh. Demons writhe on the ground, half corporeal, half inky blackness, slithering around the bodies of the fallen, around the ankles of warriors attempting to cut through the horde. Blinding white light spills from somewhere, cutting through everything, laying the scene barren, sterile.
Sam gasped in and shoved Castiel away. "What the fuck was that?"
Castiel looked away and seemed even more uncomfortable than he'd been before. "I apologize."
"Don't apologize, tell me what the fuck it was."
"A memory. It is nothing."
"Clearly it isn't nothing." Sam said, wiping a hand across his mouth. "Tell me why you were thinking of that just then."
Castiel walked away and when he spoke he kept his back to Sam. "The last time this happened was two millennia ago. There was war brewing between the forces of darkness and the forces of God. Children were recruited by demons and used as weapons, arch-angels were caught and held prisoner. It was a time of great darkness."
"What happened?"
Castiel looked at him, his face unreadable. "Death and destruction, illness, war, plagues. Many lives were lost, and the world would have plunged into darkness but for the grace of one young man."
Sam didn't like the sound of that, or the way the angel was looking at him. "Who?"
"One like you. Chosen. Marked by gifts given him by our Father. A child of God."
Sam frowned and shook his head. "That doesn't tell me anything."
Castiel lifted his chin. "We are wasting time. If you would let me show you, you would understand."
"How did this man fix it?"
"He answered the call."
Sam sighed in frustration. "You don't explain things well." He took two steps and grabbed the angel's hand, lowering what little guards he had left and pushing himself into the memory.
Chaos. Darkness. Screams. Battle. A sword sings through the air, slicing through fetid flesh. Demons writhe on the ground, half corporeal, half inky blackness, slithering around the bodies of the fallen, around the ankles of warriors attempting to cut through the horde. Blinding white light spills from somewhere, cutting through everything, laying the scene barren, sterile.
Castiel stands with others, kneels as the light moves. His eyes drop to the ground, the light too bright. He is filled with Love and devotion, gratitude. A hand touches him and a feeling of "Well done" washes over him.
Then, nearly as suddenly as it came, the light fades and in the center of the quiet, a young man falls to his knees, to the ground…
Sam stumbled back, his knees giving way. He had never tried so consciously before to read someone. He fell back onto the bed, panting. "He was…possessed."
"In a manner of speaking." Castiel agreed, coming to kneel beside him. He lifted a hand, brushing it over Sam's cheek. "He was a vessel."
Sam shivered. "For what?"
"Who." Castiel corrected, his voice soft. His eyes were sparkling and Sam felt an echo of that same love and devotion in him. "For God, Samuel."
Understanding came over him slowly and he pulled away. "You…you want me…" He shook his head. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Castiel shook his head lightly. "You are truly honored, Samuel. It is rare and wondrous and those who have been chosen before you have been blessed with abilities to heal and know things no other mortal can know. It is a rare gift."
Sam shook his head. "No." He opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out. He shoved Castiel away, knocking him backwards. "You have to go. Now."
"Samuel, we need you."
"Find someone else."
"I realize you are scared. Come with me and fulfill the destiny God has given you."
"No." Sam was sweating and shaking, the image of that young man as the light left him, the ecstasy on his face as his eyes rolled back and his body collapsed. Castiel had helped stand the watch around him as he lay recovering.
"If you do not help us, many will die. Lucifer will rise. Azazel's plan to keep you from your destiny will come to fruition. All that you have fought for, all that you believe will be as sand in the wind."
"Don't lay that on me." Sam said. "I'm only 18. I'm just a kid."
Castiel's hand on his shoulder was gentle. "He was only 13 when he was called. His gifts barely begun to manifest as more than wisdom."
Sam closed his eyes. With Castiel touching him, he could see the boy as he was before the calling, young…at play with his brothers, in the synagogue with his father. "How long?"
Castiel moved his hand and turned away. "How long, Castiel? How many years was he a doorstop before he was able to function again?"
"Many." Castiel replied. "There is a reason that his story stops at twelve and resumes again when he is older."
Sam turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing. "Are you telling me…"
"I am asking you to come with me and all your questions will be answered." Castiel held out his hand and Sam stared at it for a minute, then slowly shook his head. "No. If it's that important, it can wait another twenty four hours."
"Wait?" Castiel's hand dropped.
"Yes. Wait. I have…I have things I need to take care of. First. Before I go anywhere. Before you tell me everything." He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I need to be sure my brother knows he's going to be a father…for real this time. And I'm going to get John to talk to me, even if it's just to say goodbye. And then, I'm going to take my best friend to the Prom and show her the best night of her life. When it's over, then, and only then, will I come with you."
Sam sat for almost an hour on the bed after Castiel left. He couldn't think or move. He was pretty sure a house could fall down around him and he wouldn't be able to move.
It was Dean's voice in the hall that roused him. Dean should have been at work. Sam stood up and went to the door. Dean was just topping the stairs, looking annoyed.
"Shouldn't you be at work?"
"Yeah, I should be, but I'm not. I was accosted by your goddamn guardian angel before I could get out of the damn car."
"Castiel? Came to you?"
"He told me he needed you and you needed me so I was to come straight home. I told Smitty I wasn't feeling so good and here I am. So why am I here?"
Sam sighed and pulled his hand through his hair. "Shit. I'm sorry. He was here…and I told him…he's really serious about this."
"Sam." Dean's voice was a growl.
"I shouldn't be the one to tell you." Sam started for the stairs, but Dean caught him and dragged him back.
"Tell me anyway."
Sam glanced down into the living room. John wasn't on the couch anymore.
"He went to the library with Max and Carter." Dean said.
"Okay…then lets go downstairs. I need a drink."
"You don't drink." Dean said frowning at him.
"I do today." Sam countered, leading the way into the kitchen. He pulled the bottle of cheap whiskey out of the cupboard and poured a little into two glasses. He handed one to his brother and sipped at the other. "So, I told Castiel that I wasn't going to talk to him until I had accomplished a few things."
"Talk to him about what?"
Sam didn't look at him, just sipped at the whiskey. It burned his tongue and all the way down as he swallowed. "What he wants from me."
"Which is?"
Sam sighed and sat at the table. "I'm not sure, exactly. But…I know enough to know I don't want to do it, and I may not have a choice and it's going to be…well…honestly, I don't know."
Dean's fist hit the table. "Damn it Sam you sound like him. Will you just answer the question?"
"He said I was a vessel."
Dean snorted and sat on the opposite side of the table. "For what?"
"Not what, Dean. Who. And you don't want to know."
"If you think I'm letting you run off and do whatever it is this freak wants you to do with nothing to go on—"
"It's not your choice Dean. It's mine." Sam said quietly. He shook his head and sipped the whiskey. "And that's not why he sent you to me."
Dean looked like he wanted to argue. "Okay, you're right. I'm not your father, and your eighteen, so the decision is yours. But Sam…you're freaking me out."
He sighed and nodded. "I know. And I'm sorry. Let me back up a little. You know how I've been a little…withdrawn lately?"
"I had noticed. I figured it was just end of school shit. You always get quiet when you're stressed."
"That's some of it." He closed his eyes. "Actually no, I'm lying. That isn't it at all. I'm not worried about finals or any of that. It's my…freak factor." He looked up at Dean. "Since my birthday my…senses, for lack of a better word, have been completely out of control. I can't shut them down, I can't shield for shit. I hear everything, I see everything, I feel everything. It's been making me crazy. Castiel says that it's preparation for what I'm being called to do."
"And we're back to cryptic."
Sam put both hands flat on the table. "Leave that part alone for a minute, okay? Now, because of this expansion of my gifts, I've been getting extra information from the people around me."
"Like what?" Dean asked.
Sam rolled his eyes. "John's been picking fights at school because he feels like things here at home are out of control, Mr. Bartholomew across the street is taking Viagra and is having an affair with his secretary, and her sister. Mrs. Bartholomew thinks he's working too hard and is secretly planning a trip to Bermuda for their 45th anniversary. You and Sarah had sex three times last night, and you stopped using condoms almost three months ago when you ran out and forgot to get more."
He met Dean's astonished eyes. His brother's mouth was hanging open. "You figured, you'd already done it, so continuing wasn't going to hurt, since she was on birth control."
"Okay that? That's fucking wrong." Dean tossed back his whiskey.
"Believe me, if I could turn it off, I would." Sam said. He swallowed the last of his whiskey too. "The problem is, Dean…Sarah's birth control got interrupted. Remember that respiratory infection she had? The antibiotics?"
Dean frowned at him. "What are you saying, Sam?"
"Fuck, do I have to spell it out for you?" Sam rubbed his hands over his face. "Sarah's pregnant, Dean. I'm guessing right around six weeks. She's afraid and she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't want you to feel like she's trapping you. She's afraid that you don't want more than what you have. Hell Dean, you've been sleeping with her for three years and never talked about marriage or kids and she's terrified that you've had your fill of being a daddy and won't want to have this kid too."
"Wait. Is that what you two were talking about this morning?"
Sam nodded.
"A baby?" Dean stood and paced around the room. "A baby. And…wait…she doesn't think I'd want it?"
"She's not sure you want her, Dean. You're not exactly the most romantic guy…and you sorta fell into a relationship with her because it was convenient. Have you ever told her you love her?" Sam frowned. "Do you love her?"
Dean scratched at the back of his head, then shrugged. "I don't know? I guess? I mean…" He stopped and stared at Sam. "What am I supposed to do?"
"I can't tell you that, Dean. You're a good father though. All these years with John…and look at him. He's a good kid. And you've practically raised me."
"Yeah, and look how that turned out." Dean smirked, but went right back to pacing.
"Just…you need to talk to her."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do."
Sam glanced at the clock, it was after noon already. He exhaled. "I have to go find John. I really need to talk to him. Can I borrow the car?"
Dean snorted. "Getting a little grabby with my car aren't you?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "You're not gonna need it. You're going down the street to Sarah's…and knowing you, you'll be a while. It's been a whole what? Five hours since you had sex last?"
"Very funny. Fine. Take the car. But you are not going anywhere with any angel until you tell me what the fuck is going on."
"I've got time. He's coming back tomorrow." Sam said, though it wasn't really a conversation he wanted to have with Dean. His brother would only get angry. Really angry, and he'd tell Sam no. Sam didn't want his last words to his brother to be a part of an argument. He swallowed and hoped that didn't show on his face.
He took the keys Dean was offering and headed out the front door. He had no idea what he could say to John that he hadn't already. But maybe he could start by offering him a little big brother time, since the lack of that seemed to be what was eating him.
He got about halfway to the library when he found John, walking toward home. He was alone, and had been in a scuffle by the looks of things. Sam pulled the Impala over next to him. "Hey, wanna ride?"
"Not especially." John said, not even stopping.
Sam put it in park and got out, leaning on the roof. "Come on, truce? I thought we could go grab some ice cream or something."
John stopped and looked at him. "What am I? Eight?"
Sam pressed his lips together. "Please? I need to talk to you."
John's eyes narrowed at him and he came to the passenger side of the car. "Fine, as long as I don't have to talk to you."
"You don't even have to eat the ice cream." Sam said, relaxing a little as he got in the passenger side.
Sam drove them into town, and parked in front of the small ice cream shop. He didn't say anything until they'd gotten inside and grabbed the booth all the way in the back. Sam smiled up at the waitress and ordered a root beer float. John ordered a banana sundae, leaning back in the booth and glaring at Sam.
Sam sighed and tried to decide where to start. "So, John…I know you're angry with me."
"No I'm not." John responded reflexively.
Sam looked him in the eye. "You think you can lie to me?"
John rolled his eyes and looked up as the waitress came to set their food down. "Dad told me I shouldn't be." John said, picking up his spoon. "That you got a right to get on with your life."
"Did he?" Sam opened his straw and used it to poke at the ice cream floating in his root beer. "You know college isn't the worst thing in the world, right?" His head flashed with images from Castiel's memory and John looked up suddenly.
"What was that?"
Sam shook his head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."
John reached for his hand and Sam pulled it away. "Now who's lying?"
"It's complicated."
"Which means you think I'm too young to understand." He picked at his banana split, spooning an obscene amount of ice cream and whipped cream into his mouth.
"Castiel came back." Sam figured maybe some truth would shake things up, make John realize his life wasn't so bad.
John squinted at him. "Why?"
"He needs me for something." Sam could see the wheels turning in John's eyes and realized that there was a lot more of his father in John's face than he was used to seeing.
"I don't want you to go."
"I'm not sure I want to go either, but I may not have a choice. So, I need you to do something for me." He wasn't the one who should be telling John about Dean and Sarah, especially when he wasn't even sure they were going to keep the baby, but he saw a chance to give John something to focus on other than him.
"Is this about Dad?" John asked, his former surly attitude seeming to evaporate.
Sam nodded. "Yes, but what I'm about to tell you has to stay a secret, okay?" He waited until John nodded his agreement. "Your Dad and Sarah are going to be having a baby."
John stopped mid-bite.
"Only, Sarah hasn't told Dean yet, and I'm not sure that they'll decide to actually have it, or how it's going to work or anything." Sam sipped at his float. "But, you're going to be the big brother."
"Are they going to get married? I had a dream that they got married and there was a baby sister."
It was Sam's turn to squint at him. "When was this?"
"Few weeks ago. Before you told me you were going to Stanford."
"I know it's a lot to ask, John. I was only a little older than you when you came to live with us, remember?"
"You aren't going to Stanford, are you?" John looked him in the eye, pinning him in place. Sam could almost feel him trying to read him.
He could lie, tell him he was just leaving a little early, that he'd do whatever it was Castiel needed him to, but honestly, Sam figured he'd know he was lying…and he had a sinking feeling that this was something he wasn't going to come back from. He didn't want their last meaningful conversation to be based around a lie.
"I don't know."
John's eyes were a little hazy as he worked at trying to read what Sam wasn't saying. "It's dangerous…what he wants you to do."
Sam nodded and drank from his float. "Yeah, I think it might be."
"You haven't told Dad."
"Not all of it, no."
John blinked and shook his head to clear it. "He's gonna be pissed."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, he probably will be."
They were quiet for a minute. "Are you scared?" John asked suddenly.
Truthfully, he was terrified. "Yeah, kid, I am. I don't really know what it is I need to do, and I saw, sort of, what happened to the last guy that did this…I may be gone for a while."
He squinted at Sam like he was trying to find something. "Are you going to be okay?"
Sam swallowed. "I think so. I mean…the last guy? He was…gone for a while, but when he came back, he was…something special. He ended up a healer and a teacher…and a whole religion started because of him."
"So you will come back. I mean, you're not going to die. Right?"
Sam exhaled. "I don't know, Johnny. I just…don't know."
They were quiet again for a bit as John finished his ice cream. "So I don't tell Dad I know about the baby, and I shouldn't tell him about you going away…is there anything else you'd like me to keep from him?"
Sam smiled. "No, that about covers it." He stood. "I need to get home and start getting ready for the prom, you want to come with?"
John stood too. "Yeah."
They headed for the car and Sam slung an arm around John's shoulders. "If I leave a note with you…for Dean…can you wait a day or two to give it to him?"
"Sure. Can I have your CD player?"
Sam chuckled and nodded. "You can have anything you want of mine."
He breathed out in relief as they pulled into the driveway. He'd asked for three things before the angel came back to take him…wherever it was they were going. He'd managed two of them and it was only two-thirty in the afternoon.
He left John on the couch watching television and headed up to shower. He was supposed to pick up Beth at five to meet up with friends for dinner, then on to the prom. He didn't let him think about what came after that.
If he closed his eyes, he could see it, the scene in Castiel's memory…the destruction, not just from the battle itself, but the ending of it. He stood under the hot spray and braced himself against the wall, letting the memory fill his head.
Chaos. Darkness. Screams. Battle. A sword sings through the air, slicing through fetid flesh. Demons writhe on the ground, half corporeal, half inky blackness, slithering around the bodies of the fallen, around the ankles of warriors attempting to cut through the horde. Blinding white light spills from somewhere, cutting through everything, laying the scene barren, sterile.
"Samuel." The voice is soft, filled with the sound of hundreds of voices, all combined into one sound.
Sam is suddenly not a part of Castiel's memory…he can see Castiel kneeling beside him. The light shifts, blinding him, surrounding him. He almost imagines he can see faces in the light, half familiar and yet strange and compelling, drawing him deeper.
He wants to speak, to ask something profound, but then he's being yanked backward, out of the embrace of the light. There's a brief image, a face with yellow eyes, a voice slithering around him, darkness eating at his awareness.
"Sam!"
John was pounding on the door to the bathroom as Sam snapped back into himself with a pop. The water was running cold and he was disoriented, dizzy. He held the wall and turned the water off before stepping out of the tub carefully.
"Just a minute." He got a towel wrapped around him and pulled a shaky hand through wet hair before he opened the door.
"You okay?" John asked breathlessly.
"I think so."
"The whole house got hot…then icy cold and I think there's…something outside."
Not just one something either. Sam could feel them now. "Did you check the salt lines?"
John nodded, his eyes wide. "Okay. We're okay for now. Let me put some clothes on."
He opened his door and jumped when he found Castiel. "I told you, tomorrow."
"Can you not sense them, Samuel? They are trying to prevent you from—"
Sam cut him off with a hand raised between them. "So get rid of them." He crossed to the window and looked out at the lawn. He could vaguely make out writhing shapes of…mist, gray and unformed. "I'm not going anywhere until after Prom."
"You are stubborn and wasting time."
"Hey, back off, Pal." John said, moving to stand between Sam and Castiel. "You need to let him have this. It's only fair with what you're asking him to do."
"You have no idea what he is called—"
John cut him off with a very Dean like snort. "I know enough. And if you think I'm going to let you take him away from us for god only knows how long, without letting him go to his prom? You got another thing coming."
"John." Sam reached for him, but John shrugged him off.
"No, Sam. I'm serious."
"I can see that." Sam inhaled and let it out slowly. "Okay, if you want me to go with you at all, you're going to give me tonight. I don't care how, but if that mess isn't cleaned up when I need to leave?" He waved a hand at the window. "I'm not going anywhere."
Castiel glowered at him, but Sam merely stared back until he huffed and left the room. The feeling of the demons outside receded. Not for the first time, Sam found himself wondering if he was simply being played and not just by the demons. "Thanks Johnny."
"You're a little underdressed, Sammy." John went to the door, offering Sam a smile, but it was strained, his eyes expressing his fear and the pain he wasn't speaking. So much like his father.
Sam stopped himself, blinking. He crossed to the door, watching John head down the stairs. He was more like Dean anymore. He licked his lips and pushed back a wave of emotion. He probably wouldn’t get a chance to see the man he might become. How he'd be different than the man he had been. What choices he might make.
The kid in the memory had been twelve when he was called, but seemed at least fifteen when he dropped to the ground. Three years gone, and that was before he was left comatose. Castiel hadn't been clear on how long the kid had been a dry board, but he knew from his own research through biblical texts that he was around thirty when he was next written about. Fifteen years.
Of course, modern medical technology was vastly improved, and maybe…Sam shook his head and forced himself to put it aside. He couldn't think about it and get through tonight.
It was close to midnight, and Beth lay her head on his shoulder as they danced, sighing softly. "You okay?" Sam asked, dancing them toward the edge of the dance floor.
She nodded. "Thank you, Sam. I know you didn't want to come."
He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Are you kidding? I had the prettiest date in the room."
"You're just saying that."
"Not on your life." Sam exhaled as they sat. He could feel Castiel nearby. He could feel Azazel too. They were circling in.
"We can go. I'm all danced out."
"You sure you don't want to stay?"
She yawned and lifted her wrap from the table. "Nah, let's…go someplace less…here."
He drove them home but when they pulled up in front of her house, she turned to him. "Can we…go sit in the park? Just for a little while?"
"Sure." He pulled up the block two houses, and parked on the street in front of his house. Dean was still up, Sam could see him moving around inside. Sarah was apparently with him, moving past the windows as they got out of the car.
"I think my sister and your brother got engaged today." Beth said, slipping her hand in his.
"Really?" He glanced over his shoulder, trying to get a read on them, but Beth distracted him.
"Yeah, she cried."
The melancholy that had been a part of Beth for the better part of the week deepened. She sighed and sat on a swing, bunching up the skirt of her gown to keep it out of the dirt.
"So I guess that means we'll be family." Sam said softly.
She smiled, but it didn't feel real. "I miss my father." She looked up at the stars.
He came to sit in the swing beside hers. "I miss mine too."
"I just…I wanted to thank you Sam…for being my best friend. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here."
"Beth—"
She shook her head. "I know, it's okay. I just…" She sighed again. "God, I don't know what's wrong with me. Jeremy Enblen is not worth this much drama."
"No, he isn't. He's a worthless slob who doesn't deserve to date your big toe, much less the rest of you." Sam pulled her swing closer. "I love you though, you know that right?"
She smiled at him. "Like the little sister you never had?"
"Something like that." He kissed her cheek. "Let me walk you home?"
She nodded and stood, letting him take her hand. They moved slowly, not talking. At the door, Sam raised both of her hands and kissed them lightly. "I'm going to miss you, Beth."
"Now who's being melodramatic?" She stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "See you tomorrow?"
He closed his eyes so she wouldn't see the flare of fear in them and nodded. "Yeah…tomorrow."
She opened the door and disappeared inside. For a long moment Sam stood on her porch, before he turned and started home. Halfway between their houses, Castiel stood on the sidewalk.
Sam nodded to him. "I'm ready."
