Author: Snow White

Prompt: # 1 Manipulation

Rating: PG

Type of Story: General

Author's Website: Snow White's Page

Author's Note: This is a two part story. The first half is for the prompt 'Manipulation', and the second half is for the prompt 'Pride'.

Pride and Manipulation

Sam Winchester stood outside the house scanning the darkened structure for any sign of movement. He saw nothing and strained to try to sense any unusual feeling or emotion associated with the old building. He sensed nothing, and he frowned at his total lack of intuition about the situation. Some freaking psychic he was.


His voice echoed in the silence of the night. He wished and not for the first time that he didn't have to do this in this manner. But he knew that he did. Looking over his shoulder to make sure that he hadn't been followed he headed towards the old house.

He easily slipped inside the front door, grimacing at the stench. He hoped that it was simply the decay of the years and not something more sinister. Even though he knew that Dean was wrong, he was still slightly unnerved. But he had no choice now but to prove his sibling incorrect. It had become a matter of pride.

He refused to just blindly follow his brother on this one. Add to that, every day Dean became more and more like their father. There relationship was showing signs of the strain. Sam was getting the general feeling that Dean was trying to step into John Winchesters shoes, and one of dad was more than enough.

The younger Winchester was getting damn sick and tired of being told what to do. And after he showed his stubborn, pig headed older brother that he was totally mistaken about this maybe he would leave him alone.

He spun around as he felt something brush his left shoulder. His eyes opened wide in amazement as he found himself face to face with the very creature that he was positive didn't exist. The thought that Dean had been right after all was the last thing in his mind before he lost consciousness.


Looking at the old bedside alarm clock Dean once more resisted the urge to throw the object at the wall. But just barely.

"Where the hell are you Sammy? I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass."

Unfortunately there was no answer other than the silence of the run down hotel room. Dean resumed pacing and found his mind returning again and again to one particular, heinous thought. But he wouldn't have, couldn't have and damn sure better not have.

Dean usually respected Sam's privacy as well as he could, but this time his brother's very life might well hang in the balance. He approached the laptop as if it were some secret diary. Sam had no idea that he had his password, and there would be hell to pay when he figured it out, but it was too late to care at this point. Sitting down he found exactly what he didn't want to.

"Fuck! How stupid are you Sam?"

He threw the comment over his shoulder to the empty room as he headed out the door. Dean climbed behind the wheel of his vehicle and turned it over, not at all comforted by the roar of the engine.

It took him almost an hour to get to the old house where he knew Sam had come. He wasn't sure of how, or even when. But he could feel it with every fiber of his being. He threw the car into park and sprinted for the door knowing full well that time was of the essence.

He put his boot to the door feeling justified as the old wood splintered and gave way. Somewhere in the back of his mind the thought grew that it wasn't the smartest thing to do, to so obviously announce his arrival that way. But the combination of fury and adrenaline made it impossible to go any slower.

He shouldered his way past the debris of the door and found himself in a front hallway. His eye caught something on the floor. Reaching down he recognized it as Sam's jacket. His breath caught in his throat as an intense wave of panic overtook him.

Something moved in the corner of his vision. Knowing beyond any doubt what he was facing, and being prepared he whipped around. The heavily clawed hand of the creature struck him full on across his face and mouth. He spat blood from the blow, which just angered him further.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a vial of holy water which he threw into the creatures face. While it clawed at the bubbling liquid on its face Dean used the time to his advantage. He kicked the creature's legs out from under it and then straddled it. Because he had done such intense research on the incredibly strong and fast demon, he knew just how to kill it.

He held the thing still with his strong legs while putting as much pressure as he could on its sensitive neck knowing that it would cause it to lose consciousness. When it did, he wasted no time in shooting a silver bullet into its chest cavity where he knew both of its hearts were.

Standing up he wiped a hand over his bloody wounds and focused a hate filled look at the dead thing on the ground.

"Fuck with my face and you gotta die. That's the rule. And if you've hurt my brother so help me I'll bring your ugly ass back to life just to kill you again."

He said it in his usual confident and arrogant manner but inside his heart was pounding wondering if Sam were even still alive. He began to search the rooms one at a time for his brother.

The entire downstairs held no clue of where the thing had Sammy. Or even where his younger brother had been. Becoming more panicked with each passing second he found a blood stain on the dusty floor. Following the trail he slowly climbed the rickety old staircase.

He called out his brothers name hoping that Sammy would just answer him and he could stop feeling like his chest was gonna explode. Entering the shell of what used to be a bedroom he let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

He saw a shape lying next to the window where rotted curtains blew in the breeze. "Sammy!!"
His heart squeezed painfully in his chest as there was no response. He had just about reached the
supine figure when he heard a low moan.

"Awww crap that hurts."

Getting to where Sammy was, he bent over his brother almost afraid of what he was likely to find. Running gentle hands over legs and arms he decided that there were not likely any bones broken. He touched Sam's face and pulled away a hand sticky with blood.

Pulling his leather jacket off he tossed it aside. He then quickly pulled off his t-shirt, and used it to stem the flow of blood. Looking closely it appeared that there was a large gash by Sam's hairline.

"Is it bad?"

It took all that he had to remain calm and focused. He still was unsure of the extent of his brother's injuries. But his getting hysterical was not likely to help the situation any.

"Can you move Sammy?"

He was relieved at the nod that he got as a response. As gently as he could he helped Sam to a sitting position, waiting until he got his bearings before sliding an arm under him and helping him to stand.

"Lean on me dude." It worried him that he didn't have to insist. Sam hated to follow orders of any kind and lately especially had been giving him grief. He wondered again just how badly his brother was hurt.

He managed slowly to get Sam down into the car. He began driving quickly back to the town they had been staying in. He knew exactly where the hospital was as he had followed someone there recently as part of their investigation.

They pulled into the emergency room entrance and Sam started to squirm. "No Dean man this'll be hard to explain and messy. I'll be okay, just take me back to the motel."

Suddenly Dean was overcome with a wave of anger. "Yeah, you think so do you Francis? Well the plasma trail all over the interior of my car says different dude. You just sit there and stay quiet and try not to bleed anymore." Before his brother could formulate a reply he jumped back in and threw the car into drive.

"And while we're on the topic, how about the fact that your decisions have really sucked as of late. I freakin told you to stay away from that house until I figured it all out. So what the hell did you think you were doing?"

Dean fought the urge to yell the question. He realized that now was not the time for this conversation. As if to prove his point looking to Sam he noticed just how pale he looked. Before any of this, the most important thing was to make sure his younger brother was all right.

"Don't answer that, we'll talk about it later. First we need to fix whatever the hell damage that thing did to your pretty face. And don't even think of giving me any shit either."

For once Sam was unusually quiet which meant he was either really hurt or he knew that he was way in the wrong. Dean figured maybe it was a little of both. Dean wasted no time in getting Sam to the small hospital in the little town they had been staying in.

Within a few minutes they had whisked Sam back to an emergency bed. Dean answered all the questions, lying the way that their father had taught them to do. He used the story that they had had drilled into their heads for years.

He picked up his cell phone once Sam was being seen to call his dad. He was kind of glad that his father didn't answer for once. He left a message, and went back to the desk to see if there was any news. After what seemed to him to be a lifetime, a really hot nurse that would normally have done it for Dean came out and called his name. She took him back to where Sam and the doctor were.

As he entered the room he saw his brother on the gurney. Any other time Dean would have been amused at how giant Sam looked on the bed but this was not the least bit funny. He noticed that there was a bandage covering most of Sam's forehead. He felt momentarily sorry for his brother, but that was overtaken by his urge to do bodily harm to him if only he was all right.

The doctor acknowledged Dean and started telling Sam about his condition. He basically was battered and bruised. He also had sustained two cracked ribs. The gash in his forehead had taken quite a few stitches to close but it would heal. Dean all but sagged against the doorframe weak with relief.

Within a short time they had Sam ready to go home, armed with prescriptions and instructions. Dean loaded his brother into the car satisfied that the hospital experience had gone as well as it possibly could have. He turned to Sam, ready to begin a scathing question and answer session when his cell phone rang.

"Is he all right?"

Dean sent a glare in the direction of his gigantic younger brother who was currently slinking down in his seat attempting to look invisible.

"Yeah. A couple of cracked ribs and a shit load of stitches in his hard assed head."

Now Dean listened and fought back a groan at what he heard. Sam turned to face him knowing that the silence on his brother's end didn't bode well for him. Dean's face had gotten kind of red and again the youngest Winchester watched as Dean muttered a 'yes sir' and snapped his cell phone shut.


Dean turned a hot gaze in his direction. "Just don't ask okay. Just sit there and shut up for a while." Dean drove in the direction of the motel that had been home for a few days. Arriving there he once again turned to Sam. "Just sit tight, I'll be right out."

Sam did as he was told and finally got tired of waiting. He turned to open the door but a wave of pain in the vicinity of his ribs changed his mind. "Just fuck. Not only is Dean pissed now, but I'm sure dear old dad isn't too happy either. Could this get any worse?" He said it aloud but got no reply in the empty car.

He watched as Dean carried all of their stuff out from the room. When he opened the trunk and threw it all in Sam's level of alarm when from slight to serious. This could only mean one thing.

"Uh Dean, are we like going on a hunt or something?"

He flinched at the look his older brother sent in his direction. "No hotshot, we're going to have a little face to face with dad. Although I'm thinking that it isn't your face he's interested in interacting with."

Sam put a hand to the bandage on his forehead. He knew that his father would never do anything to him when he was hurt. As if he could read his mind the next words out of his brother's mouth answered his question.

"He's a patient man Sammy."

Sam groaned as that was exactly what he was worried about.


John Winchester paced the floor of the farmhouse where they were staying. It was owned by a relative of Bobby's who had died and left it to his friend. He often used it as a meeting place with his boys.

He looked over at Dean cleaning the weapons. It was as if his oldest was a man about to make love to a beautiful woman. The loving and almost reverent way he handled the various instruments of their profession brought about both pride and worry in the older hunter.

"Enough Dean! Have you done a check of the barn this morning?" He watched as a blush crossed the boy's features and he assumed it was guilt.

"Hey dude don't get all pissy with me when it's Sammy that you're mad at."

John had mistaken the blush for guilt when in fact it'd clearly been anger. Feeling no small surge of anger himself he faced his eldest.

"Wanna tell me why your brother did such a stupid thing as to go in after that creature alone and unarmed?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and looked as if John had asked him something insane.

"Like how am I supposed to know why the hell Poindexter does any of the shit that he does?"

John had both heard and seen enough. Reaching Dean in three steps he grabbed his arm and landed three hard swats on the seat of his jeans.

"Hey!! What's your deal Dad? Like am I suddenly twelve again?"

"Yeah well actually I was just thinking that maybe you were. Now stop being such a hard ass and answer my question."

Dean paused as at the moment he felt anything like a hard ass. In fact an ass that wanted to head for the door would be more like it. Cause if he knew one thing it was that if dear old dad felt being swatted wasn't something that he had outgrown he didn't want to think about what else he was still not too old for.

"He wanted to prove to me that it didn't exist. Good plan don't you think?"

John grabbed at his arm again and Dean went into survival mode. "Okay, okay it had become a matter of pride for him. "

John could hardly believe what he had just heard. Since when did pride have any place in a hunt? He swore thinking that these two sons of his could probably make even the simplest thing impossibly difficult.


John Winchester wasn't surprised by the grimace that crossed his oldest features as he had already known that there was more to the story than what he was being told.

"Umm why what dad?"

John all but growled. "Don't screw around here with me pal. You know damn good and well why what. Now start talking or I swear I will start swatting again."

Go to part 2 Pride

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