SYNOPSIS: Sam was not raised a Winchester. John couldn't stand the sight of his kid after what happened to Mary, and especially not after finding out why it happened, finding out that Sam wasn't entirely human. Dean never knew he had a brother. Sam was raised by Azazel. And then they meet.
TW:
SHIPS: None. maybe some minor destiel but nothing crazy.
So I was looking at an 'Angel dictionary' or all the Christian and Judaean Angels (for reasons that are not important) and I saw this interesting name that stood out from the rest- 'The Accusing Angel.' I looked it up, and apparently they're described as 'God's adversary' and are often compared to Satan/Lucifer/The Devil. This, I think, is mighty interesting, because this name is Sammael. Well, this gave me an idea.
--
"I heard that you've got a kid named Samuel Winchester here?" Asked the man, standing in front of Ann's desk.
"Oh, sure, mister. Not yet a year old, came in a couple weeks ago," She smiled warmly. Ann was a redhead, freckled and comfortable with herself in every way, and she was a new hire. She seemed to be the only one comfortable around young Sammy. He seemed to creep out her coworkers, but she didn't understand why; he was just a sweet little guy.
"Could I have him?" Asked the man, tapping the table. He was an older gentleman, didn't seem like the type who'd spring for adoption. He wasn't, really. He had two kids already, a boy and a girl, but this one specific child was one that he was keen on. This child was a relative.
"Well, uh, there's process here, you know," Ann laughed, "First, you gotta-"
The man sighed, "I thought there would be. Well, there was no harm in trying."
"Sir-"
She did not get to finish that sentence, however, because her head seemed to have twisted around the wrong way.
The man started down the halls, following, looking for his child. He found the kid only when the sound of a wailing child echoed from behind a door, a door which he slowly opened to see a bunch of cribs, each one against a wall. Only one of the children was crying.
The man picked him up and hushed him. It would be okay, "It's alright, my gifted child. My Sam."
--
"What happened to Sam, dad?" A young Dean asked bluntly. His father had left the motel with Sam a hour or two ago, and now he had come back alone, "You left with him, and now he's not here."
"He's not coming back," John's expression was unreadable.
"Why? Is he okay?"
"He's not coming back," John repeated.
"But-"
"It doesn't matter, Dean."
They didn't talk about Sam again. Not ever. Within hardly any time at all, Dean had almost completely forgotten his little brother. He was young, it was forgivable. Every once in a while, he might have a very familiar dream about a very familiar little kid, but he could never quite figure out who that was.
--
"Okay, remind me again," An older Dean spoke up, briefly putting down the heavy lore book, "The apocalypse is getting it's rear in gear, yes?"
"Yes?" Cas replied, not sure what that had to do with anything.
"What's your point?" Bobby asked.
"Well, my point is, that is the end is nigh and all that crap, why're we hunting some demon?"
"Fallen angel, actually," Cas corrected.
