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And the Ground Shook (13/22) - My Little Corner of the World
sams1ra
sams1ra
And the Ground Shook (13/22)
Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.
Rating: Gen, with very mild language.
Category: Gen.
Pairings: None.
Characters: Hurt!Dean, John, Sam.
Summery: "You promised him! You promised him you'd send someone else! He never would have told you if he'd known you were going to go by yourself! You lied to him! He trusted you, and you lied straight to his face!"
Comments: Are loved and coveted.
Notes: Pre-series, AU. Not a deathfic. Lots of Dean-whumping, though. Will be updated regularly.

And the Ground Shook

Chapter Thirteen – Teleseism

After ten hours of driving, his back was protesting pretty loudly. It wasn’t the reason he'd stopped though. It was when a panicked car horn woke him up and he found himself head to head with a truck. Yes, there was no point to keep going if he was going to crash the car and die before he even finds this witch. And so John sprinkled some water on his face, and pulled over at the first motel he could find.

He checked in, got himself in the room, and was more than happy to just nose-dive onto the bed for a couple of hours. But there was something he had to do first. Sitting heavily on the bed, John ran his hands through his hair, trying to pull his thoughts together, and then picked up the phone.

The hunter's heart began to race when there was no answer on the forth ring, and he exhaled in relief when his youngest answered on the fifth one.

"Sammy." John said, trying not to sound as tired as he felt. "You boys alright?"

"Yes, sir." Sam said.

"What took you so long to answer?" John asked.

"Sorry," Sam sounded embarrassed, "I was in the bathroom. Dean's still asleep. He's pretty much out cold. I got him to drink some earlier, but he just rolled over and went back to sleep." Sam reported. John gave a curt nod.

"Good. That's good. You're doing good, son."

"So, did you find it yet?" Sam asked. John took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes.

"Not yet. Listen, Sammy, you keep an eye on your brother. I'll call you boys later, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Sam answered, and John hung up the phone. He leaned back on the bed. A spring was poking at his side. Not that it mattered, he was asleep in minutes.


The next time John called home was over a day later. Sam answered on the third ring, and John could tell, from the tone of his voice, that something was up.

"Everything alright there, Sammy?" John asked, huddling inside the payphone booth, tracking one of the witch's little helpers from the corner of his eye. There were five of them that he had seen so far. Damn woman was never alone. It didn’t look like they were carrying, but Dean said they might be possessed, and if so… well, that was tricky.

"Yes, fine." Sam said curtly, in a way that practically screamed that it wasn’t. John sighed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. Uh, hey, Dad, could you put one of the guys on the phone?" Sam asked, "Caleb is on a job, so who've you got there? Bobby? Jeremy?" John frowned.

"Sam, what is it about?" he demanded. There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line before his fifteen year old lost it.

"You promised him! You promised him you'd send someone else! He never would have told you if he'd known you were going to go by yourself! You lied to him! He trusted you, and you lied straight to his face!" Sam yelled, John shook his head slightly, looking heavenwards, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. "He told you they could be expecting you! He asked you not to go! You promised! You promised, and you went ahead anyway!" Sam continued his tirade. His father knew better than to try and interrupt. Interrupting lead to fighting, which lead to wasting time. He didn’t want to waste anymore time, and so he just let Sam vent until he saw some movement from the house. Two guys got out, got in a car and drove away. Which meant there was only one there now, with the witch. Those odds were more to his liking.

"Yes, alright, Sam. Listen, I don’t have time for this right now, okay?" John cut into his son's words. "Your brother okay?"

"What do you care?" Sam snapped.

"Samuel Winchester!" John didn’t have to see it to know his son had just flinched. There was a moment of silence before Sam went on.

"He's a little better now." Sam said in a small, spiteful voice. John swallowed. Better now? As opposed to what? He closed his eyes. Focus. You have to focus, he reminded himself.

"Good." John said. He didn’t ask what had happened. He couldn’t. He had to keep his mind sharp. There was a witch and possibly a demon there, he couldn’t afford to go in there and not be on top of his game. He couldn’t afford to go in there all emotional. He had to stay calculated, in control. "You let him rest. And don’t forget about his pills. I'll call you when the job's done." John finished and hung up, not waiting for Sam to answer.


That was one hell of a headache. Ow. John blinked his eyes open. Ow. He closed them, groaning.

"Time to wake up now, Johnny."

What the hell? John forced his eyes open. Son of a… What the…? How the hell did I get here?

"It's so nice of you to join the party, Johnny boy. But if I remember correctly, it wasn’t you I invited." A female voice.

The witch.

Damn.

"Have you come here seeking vengeance for your son's death, Johnny?" where the hell was she? He couldn’t see her, just the two very large men standing in front of him, looking almost bored.

He reached his hand and gingerly touched the side of his head. Ow. Damn it! John hissed. Okay, so his hands weren’t tied. That was either really stupid, or he was in some seriously deep shit. Oh, wait, back up there a second, what did she say?

"What did you say?" he pushed himself to his feet. Ow, ow, ow, ow! John winced, touching his ribs. Not broken, but ow! Definitely some major bruising going on. Maybe even a fracture. Damn it!

She came from behind him, her back turned to him. He was definitely not perceived as a threat, and that couldn’t possibly be a good thing.

She wasn’t tall, but wasn’t short, either. Her long dark hair was definitely dyed. She wore simple clothes, and when she turned, she also wore a smile. One that made John want to punch her in the face. She seemed in her late forties, early fifties perhaps. Either that, or witchcraft was hell for one's complexion. She wore too much blue eye shadow and a disgusting shade of lipstick that just made her skin look all that much paler. Her eyebrows were plucked so thin they might as well have been painted on with a pencil, and her long, manicured fingernails were painted with bright red nail polish. All in all, she was definitely not using her craft to make herself prettier. Or, if she did, she totally sucked at it.

"You think you're the first one to try and avenge your child's death?" she chided. "Your son and I had a deal. He didn’t deliver." She shrugged. "He didn’t have to die, that was his choice." Die? Wait, what the hell was she talking about? He just talked to Sammy, he said Dean was doing better!

"My son's not dead!" John growled. Her smile vanished for just a moment, a thin brow disappearing in the dyed hairline. She blinked, and then smiled again.

"Oh, really?" she asked, and John wrinkled his brow. She seemed surprised. Too surprised. "Well, good. So he can still live up to his end of the deal." John spared a look over his shoulder. No one was standing behind him. Not that it mattered much. He was in a small room, with one very small window and a probably locked door. The room seemed sound proof, too. Damn it! But at least he was able to take a couple of steps back and lean his back against the cold wall.

"He's not going to do that." John spat. The witch shrugged.

"Picked out a plot for him yet? Some lovely cemetery where he will spend the rest of his…" she smiled again, "death?" John narrowed his eyes.

"He's not going to die!" he snapped, his jaw working hard.

"Really? Is he immortal? Because if he's not, he's probably down to minutes by now." The woman smiled smugly. John glared at her. She didn’t appear to be impressed. Think, John, think! Stall her! He swallowed.

"There has to be a third option." John said in a husky voice. The witch raised a brow.

"Oh, really?" she asked. "See, the thing with Leeches, it's pretty simple. You perform a task, they dissipate. You don’t, you die. I don’t really see a third option here."

"There's always a third option." John said, pushing himself away from the wall. Ow. The witch quirked her brow again. "What is it that you want?" John asked.

"Your son knows what I want." She said dryly. John glanced around the room, taking in every detail. There weren’t many – nothing he could use. And was that dried blood on the floor?

"Indulge me." John shrugged. The witch seemed amused.

"The young one. Samuel." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What do you want with him?" John demanded. The witch shrugged.

"Let's just say I have a thing for healthy teenage boys in need of a haircut." She smirked. John clenched and unclenched his jaw.

"Well, sorry. Sammy's a little occupied at the moment. How about what's behind door number two?"

"That would be your other son's funeral." The witched said dryly, and John really, really wanted to deck her. He took a deep breath.

"Look, we're both reasonable people. There's got to be something else you want. What good comes of my son's death? You lose, he loses. What's the point?" John asked. The witch stared at him. The men at her sides saying nothing all this time, not even moving.

"I don’t really care." The witch said eventually, half-shrugging. "He dies, I find someone else to do what I want. It works. Not too messy, no one can do anything about it. It's like a contract, really. Nicely untraceable..." She smirked again. This was getting him nowhere.

"I will not let my son die!" John snapped. "And I will not give my son up to you!"

"Well, you will send Samuel to me, or your other son dies." The witch said.

"I will never let you get anywhere near Sammy!" John said vehemently. "You will never have him!" the witch studied him for a long moment.

"So you favor him? Over your firstborn? You will let your child die, John, so that you can keep the other?"

"Either way, you will have me lose one of them!" John growled out in frustration. The witch smiled.

"I guess."

"I will kill you." John promised, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Oh, I seriously doubt that." The witch said. She was just lucky glares couldn’t kill.

"You will seriously have me choose between my boys? You will force me to favor one's life over the other's?" John demanded angrily. The witch let out a huff of air.

"I would never ask that of a father." She said seriously, lowering her eyes for a fracture of a second, and then raising them, looking straight at John. "But then, he wasn’t supposed to come here. You should have gone hunting yourself, John." She said coolly, and John could swear the room temperature dropped along with his stomach. His heart began to race. "It's not really your choice to make, now is it? You're not the one marked."

John screamed as a searing pain in his chest blinded him for a moment, forcing him to his knees as he struggled to breathe.

"I could mark you, too." The witch said wistfully, her eyes on the hunter. "But I think we've established the fact that you won't do as I want." And then the pain subsided and John could breathe again. Oh, dear God, is that what Dean goes through?

The witch crouched in front of him, peering at him. "That doesn’t even begin to describe what a Leech would do to you." she said, as if reading his mind. John swallowed hard. "There is no way in hell your son could survive a Leech for this long. Your son is dead." She added, straightening to her full height and turning away from him.

"No, he's not!" John cried, trying his best to keep his voice steady as the pain slowly subsided. The witch turned to him.

"How can you be so sure?" she asked dryly.

"Because I just talked to him." John said through gritted teeth. Okay, so that wasn’t exactly true, but she didn’t need to know that. It was the only thing he had left, his only card. She seemed interested in that for some reason, and that meant he could still bargain. "He's getting stronger every day." John went on, blinking the dark spots away from his blurry vision. "His liver is fine, his kidneys are doing better, he was released from the hospital a few days ago. Walking around and everything. He will survive this, and you will lose." John swallowed again, licking his lips.

"At least this way, we both win. You ask for something else, something he can get you, and he gets better even quicker." Winchester finished. The witch narrowed her eyes.

"I don’t believe you." she said. "He's dead." Her eyes darted to her two goons. "No one survives a Leech for this long."

"My son did. And he'll survive much longer." John said with much more conviction than he actually felt. The witch stared intently at him. And then the world went black and his knees gave way as he fell to the ground. His last thought before he hit the harsh, cold floor was oh, shit, this is gonna hurt

TBC

Where it all started >> 2 >> 3 >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8 >> 9 >> 10 >> 11 >> Epicenter
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13 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
(Deleted comment)
sams1ra From: sams1ra Date: April 15th, 2007 03:22 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying this =)
idiot4dean From: idiot4dean Date: April 15th, 2007 02:22 pm (UTC) (Link)
Dangerous ground John dangerous ground. Lying to a witch could backfire. Or it could give him the time to get his deal. but first he's got to wake up and get the hell out of there.

Looking forward to more.
sams1ra From: sams1ra Date: April 15th, 2007 03:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
Yeah, waking up would be a start ;) More is coming soon (and not Kripke kind of soon, either. The real one =P )
ysbail From: ysbail Date: April 15th, 2007 03:08 pm (UTC) (Link)
Hmm ... so John's plans backfired, Dean knows his father lied to him and Sammy is left looking after a brother who may not have much longer ...

Could things get any worse? (Rhetorical question; I know they could!)

Wonderful story ...
sams1ra From: sams1ra Date: April 15th, 2007 03:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thank you.
arianstarr From: arianstarr Date: April 15th, 2007 04:43 pm (UTC) (Link)
omg....
sams1ra From: sams1ra Date: April 15th, 2007 05:53 pm (UTC) (Link)
You can call me sams1ra. Lol
Glad you like it!
arianstarr From: arianstarr Date: April 15th, 2007 06:36 pm (UTC) (Link)
lol *g*
sams1ra From: sams1ra Date: April 15th, 2007 06:39 pm (UTC) (Link)
;)
(Deleted comment)
sams1ra From: sams1ra Date: April 16th, 2007 05:10 am (UTC) (Link)
Yes... ahm... hunting the witch... easy, right? ;)
From: (Anonymous) Date: April 13th, 2011 06:57 pm (UTC) (Link)

Hoping to get involved

Hey - I am really happy to discover this. cool job!
sams1ra From: sams1ra Date: April 18th, 2011 05:09 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: Hoping to get involved

Thanks!
13 comments or Leave a comment