"Agnatus" Part Five of Five

[kellifer]

Title: Agnatus - Part Five - Complete
By: kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: Adult themes
Category: Dean/Sam
Words: 2,701
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox* and to lyra_wing for Americanisation and beating my grammer into some semblance of recognition.
Summary: Two sons were born to John Winchester, years and miles apart. They grew up strangers but fate had other plans for them, and a black sense of humour.

Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five



The circle is complete, your attempt to sway the outcome has failed, Fate says with a self-satisfied laugh.

On the contrary. The Demon smiles. He is now on the path.

000

They were half an hour outside Lawrence when Dean’s phone rang. He flipped it open one-handed while he steered with the other. Sam didn’t even look up from his book.

Before he got a chance to say hello, a woman’s voice was already talking. “Dean Winchester, you turn that car around right now and take that boy home.”

“Missouri, what-?”

“I mean it. Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“The right thing,” Dean snapped, yanking the Impala over to the side of the road and cutting the engine. “I don’t get why no one can see that.”

“Remember who you’re talking to here, boy. I didn’t come down in the last shower. You might be able to lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll let you bring him here but I got conditions,” Missouri said, tone stern. Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him and he resolutely ignored him.

“Fine. What?”

“You don’t care to ask me anything. Not a thing.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

Missouri let out a short bark of laughter. “Sure, hon, and I’m twenty years old and have long blonde hair.”

“What else?”

“That you drop him here and you leave. You drive away and never look back. I’ll call his momma to come get him when we’re done.”

“No.”

“Did you just say no to me?”

“I’m not allowed to ask you questions so I’ll probably never know why, but you can’t ask me to leave him. I won’t do it.” Dean could now feel Sam’s gaze boring into the side of his face.

“Oh, honey,” Missouri sighed, sounding resigned. “This whole thing just isn’t fair on you. I’m trying to protect you here.”

“From what?” When there was nothing but silence on the other side, Dean dropped his head onto the steering wheel. “Are you going to help us, or do I have to find someone else?”

There was silence that stretched out so long Dean started thinking that Missouri had just put the phone down and walked away, when he heard a weary sigh. “I’ve already made up beds for you.”

000

Dean let Missouri descend upon them and usher Sam into the house as soon as they arrived, fixing him something to eat and fussing around him like a mother hen. Dean watched her with a raised eyebrow, wondering why he’d never gotten the same careful treatment. All he’d gotten were threats with kitchen utensils and the odd glare.

She moved Sam into the living room and left him to peruse the ceiling-high bookshelves and came back into the kitchen where Dean was waiting.

“Well?”

“What? You expect me to wave my magic wand and make everything better?” Missouri snapped, putting a kettle on to boil and scooping coffee into mugs with hand-painted flowers.

“Do you have one?”

“You’re not too old to have your butt smacked,” Missouri warned, but her threat was off-hand. Dean could see she was already lost in thought. “I can’t be sure, but I think there are some protections already on Sam. There are definitely things we can do.”

“Why do you think he’s protected? Didn’t look that way when he was being strangled to death in his sleep.”

“Whatever is coming at him is powerful. That’s not all though. I’m sensing power from him, but it’s dampened somehow.”

“From him? Are you sure?”

“Don’t look so worried,” Missouri soothed. “Not all power comes from a bad place.” She looked from Dean to the doorway leading to the living room and back again. “From what I can tell, he’s completely unaware of it.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Dean asked, pushing to his feet. He was getting tired of people knowing more then they were letting on. He knew he was going to have nightmares for months about lips staining blue and bloody furrows in skin. He couldn’t help feeling like he was always a step behind.

He didn’t like it.

“Ah, you don’t get to ask questions, remember?” Missouri scolded, putting a finger up. Sam chose that moment to wander back into the kitchen. “Come here, honey, and sit down,” Missouri invited, pulling one of the kitchen chairs back. Sam took it, looking between her and Dean all the while.

“Did I miss something?”

“Not at all. Let me have a look at your neck for a second.” Missouri moved behind Sam and pushed his shaggy hair aside. She made a clucking sound in the back of her throat and stepped away. “Have a look,” she said to Dean, tilting her chin at Sam.

He blinked at her and then stood, moving behind Sam. He tangled fingers in the hair at Sam’s nape and held it aside. There was bruising and lacerations and something faint underneath it all.

A blue mark.

“What is that?” Dean asked, watching Missouri move into the living room to her bookshelves and start pulling volumes down, making thoughtful noises.

“What’s what?” Sam demanded, tilting his head comically, like he could see the back of his head if he could only manage to right angle.

“You have a tattoo on the back of your neck, a sigil that is powerful protection. But it’s been interrupted.” Missouri called from the other room.

“I’ve got a tattoo?” Sam asked, a little dumbfounded, turning in his chair to look at Dean.

“Interrupted?” Dean prodded, following Missouri into the living room.

“The damage to Sam’s throat has broken the mark’s power. Whoever did this probably didn’t know they had to reinforce the mark every few years.”

“Amateurs using magic they don’t understand,” Missouri huffed with a shake of her head. “Might as well be runnin’ around in traffic.”

“Is it just general protection?” Dean asked.

“Not exactly. It hides the wearer and feeds off the power being thrown at it.”

“Meaning?” Dean prompted.

“The harder someone looked for Sam, the less likely they would find him. The mark’s power is not infinite however. There is a ritual to go with it that has to be performed every few years or the mark becomes… less. The protected becomes vulnerable, especially when…”

“When?” Dean demanded as Sam came out into the living room, fingers still walking over the skin at the back of his neck.

“Especially when he sleeps.”

000

Ellen’s rag stopped moving in its slow circles and she let out a sigh.

“Hello, John.”

“It’s been a long time, Ellen,” a gruff voice replied out of the darkness, and John slowly moved from the shadows. “You look good.”

“You were supposed to stay out of our lives. That’s all I ever asked of you.”

“I tried to. God knows I did everything to keep Dean away. He grew up knowing only a handful of hunters so he wouldn’t accidentally come upon this place on his own.” John lowered himself onto one of the barstools and accepted the beer Ellen set down in front of him. “You called me.”

“Nobody had heard from you in a while. I was… concerned,” Ellen admitted, setting her rag down and leaning a hip on the counter. “The last thing I expected was Dean to show up here, looking for you. What’s going on with you anyhow?”

“I’m getting close and I wanted… I just wanted to keep him out of harm’s way. I shoulda known he wouldn’t give up that easily.” John chuckled, a fond sound that made Ellen smile in return for just a moment.

“He sure reminds me of you. All bluster.”

“Cocky, too. Not sure where he gets that from.”

“Yeah, I wonder,” Ellen snorted. She leaned her elbows on the bar and looked at John steadily. “I don’t want this life for Sam.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t want him to know.”

“I think he’s gonna find out.”

“I just don’t… he’s already lost Bill once. Isn’t that enough?”

“What do you want me to do here? He’s with Dean and they’re going to find out. You can’t hide something like this forever, no matter how much you want to. I’m his father and-”

“You’re not his father!” Ellen seethed, slamming her fist down so hard the glasses at the end of the bar rattled. “One night of drunken idiocy don’t make you his father. You missed the first steps and the first words, the skinned knees and the heartbreaks. You missed the wonderful six months where he wouldn’t eat anything but Lucky Charms and the other six months where he wouldn’t hardly eat anything at all. Bill was his daddy, and nothing you do now is going to change that.”

John deflated, taking a swallow of beer and setting it down carefully. “I wanted to take him. I would’ve taken him.”

“Hell John, who’s kidding who here? You had enough trouble raising the one son without having another one to drag around.”

“Maybe I wanted that. Maybe Dean deserved to have that, after…” John scrubbed a hand over his face and then finished his beer in a couple of long swallows, only looking at Ellen again when he put the empty bottle down. “They’re going to know, and either we tell them, or they find out some other way and hate us for it.”

Jo, standing silent and unseen at the bottom of the stairs leading into the bar, clenched her fists and turned on her heel, heading out the back.

000

“Is this right?” Dean moved sideways slightly so Missouri could see his handiwork.

“It’s a little rough but as long as the intention’s there, you don’t have to get it exact.” She nodded, moving back into the kitchen.

“Are you nearly done?” Sam asked, a small whine coming into his voice. He wasn’t enjoying lying on his stomach in the middle of the living room in nothing but his boxers while Dean painted on his back with foul-smelling green paste. It didn’t help that Dean would cuff him in the back of the head every time he started to fidget.

“Relax Samantha, nearly there,” Dean said, leaning over Sam’s right shoulder blade. He, as opposed to Sam, was enjoying himself immensely. Sam’s back was broad and tan, with an interesting constellation of freckles right above the line of his underwear. He would run his thumb up Sam’s ribs whenever Missouri wasn’t watching and then would complain about Sam twitching.

“Wait,” Sam said, arching up onto his elbows. “This isn’t going to work.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, and Sam pushed the book he’d been looking at sideways so Dean would see it too.

“My Latin’s rusty but-”

“You can read Latin?” Dean interrupted, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“A little. Enough to know that this won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a protection ritual that requires someone of my blood to inscribe it on me. It reinforces the spell.”

“We have to do this in your blood? Gross.” Dean scrunched his nose and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Of my blood, Dean. Someone from my family line. Someone related.”

“Are you sure, dude? Because the words are starting to glow.”

“What?” Sam blinked as Dean sat back on his haunches.

“Yeah. It’s kinda pretty, even though the smell is getting worse.”

“You boys done?” Missouri asked, coming back from the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel. She looked over Sam’s back and nodded. Dean’s mouth dropped open as the words he’d just painstakingly rendered seemed to sink into Sam’s skin, disappearing with a final green pulse.

“Maybe my Latin’s rustier than I thought,” Sam mused, sitting up and pulling his shirt on over his head.

“You read Latin?” Missouri asked slowly, her eyes darting to the book that was open on the floor. Both Dean and Sam looked at her, identical frowns on their faces.

“I learned because I thought it would help dad. Why?” Sam stood, snagging his jeans from the couch and stepping into them. Dean stood also, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Enough with the no questions crap,” Dean snarled. “You tell us what’s going on right now.”

A banging at the door interrupted the tense standoff and Missouri put a hand up to Dean, asking for a moment’s pause. She came back into the living room with John Winchester on her heels.

“Dad!” Dean exclaimed, pushing past Sam to grab his father into a hug.

“Hey kiddo,” John said gruffly, holding Dean away from himself so he could look at him.

“Where did you go? What happened?”

“All in good time, son. There’s something… there’s something that you’re long overdue knowing.” Missouri retreated to the kitchen, and when Sam went to follow her, John leaned forward and snagged Sam’s elbow with his hand. “This concerns you too,” John said, and Sam, puzzled, moved back next to Dean.

John looked between the two for a few moments, seeing the way they’d unconsciously moved together, shoulder to shoulder to brace for whatever was coming. It made his heart hurt to see it, to wonder what it would’ve been like for Dean to have grown up with that, with someone always by his side.

“Here’s the thing,” he began.

000

“He’s not safe, but he’s protected for now,” Missouri said, watching Dean carefully. Sam was back in the Impala, sitting slumped down in the seat, looking pale.

“Do we know what was trying to hurt him?” Dean asked. His whole body was a tight line of tension, eyes darting between Missouri and her house, where John was still inside. There’d been yelling and angry tears and then Sam had just shut down. Dean had hustled him out to the car, telling his father to stay where he was, knowing that Sam just needed to get away.

He was just hoping that Sam didn’t need to get away from him.

He had a brother. Dean turned that around in his mind, prodding it from all sides. He’d always felt like there was something just out of reach for him, the feeling intensifying when he’d met Sam and, although he knew it was an old cliché, he’d never felt closer to complete than when Sam was by his side.

“No, honey, whatever it is seems to be a little too powerful for me to get a read on. The protection won’t keep him safe forever, but it might last long enough for you boys to find out.”

Dean nodded slowly, eyes still darting back to the house. He’d left his father sitting on the couch, head in his hands.

I’m sorry boys, I’m so sorry. I wanted to…

“Tell him I’ll call him,” Dean said, bringing his gaze back to Missouri. “I need… I just need a little while but I’ll call.”

“Of course,” Missouri nodded, bringing her hand up and touching Dean’s cheek with her fingers.

When he slid into the car, Sam didn’t look up, but he pulled himself away, curling closer to the door.

“We-”

“I know.”

“And we almost…”

“I know.”

Sam turned to look at Dean, his eyes full of something Dean couldn’t read. “I still…” Sam choked out. “Oh God, I still want to-”

Dean slumped in his seat, feeling the tension drain out of him. It wasn’t relief he was feeling, but it was close to it. “I know,” he nodded slowly. “Look, is there anywhere you want me to take you?”

Sam blinked and then pressed his thumbs into his eyes for a moment. He drew in a great lungful of breath and let it out slowly, and then turned so he was facing forward again. “Can we just drive? Can we… can we do that?”

“Yeah, Sammy, we can do that,” Dean said, sliding the key into the ignition.

“No one’s ever called me that,” Sam said in a hollow voice, and Dean’s gaze ticked to him and then away.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean… if it bugs you, I won’t do it again.”

“No, I… don’t mind,” Sam said, scooting down further in the seat, resting his knees against the dash. “Just drive.”