Sammy

4. Discovery

"How old are you?"  Dean saw her calculate for a few moments before answering.

"Fifteen or sixteen, I'm not too sure," she said at a slightly higher volume.  It could be called progress, if it wasn't for the fact that she was still shaking.

"Favorite color?"  

"Blue."  This plan was not working as well as Dean hoped it would.  Two questions in and it was already very awkward.  Everything he wanted to ask her was a little risky, unless she was upfront about it.  He could order her around and make her confess her life story, but that would put a crack in the wall of trust he was trying to build.

"Okay," he said after a silent five minutes, "do you have any questions for me?"  She shook her head.  "You sure?"  She began to nod her head and Dean smiled.  "Ask away then."

"Who are you exactly?"  

"I'm Dean Winchester, hunter and rescuer.  You might know me from a couple stories."  Word got around in the bars and he was sure he and Benny had to be talked about at the place, especially with Anakin writing the occasional letter back to his friends.  He wondered if they were proud of him at all.

"Yeah, I've heard rumors."  He nodded and waited for the next question.  "Is it true you use bait?"  Dean's heart suffered for the millionth time that day.  He could tell that she was frightened of him from her past experiences with being common tackle, and he wanted to do everything he could to remedy that part of her.

"No, I've never used a kid as bait, my father has."  

"Is that how that kid went missing seven years ago?  Your father used him," she inquired softly.  Dean began to freak out a little bit.  How does she know about Sammy?  Are you sure it's him, because there were probably more baiting incidents than that and he wasn't even used as bait.  There wasn't a major hunt that year though, just the Wendigo right when Sam was taken.   Still how could she even hear about that and remember it, unless-

Dean shot up from his chair and grabbed a piece of the complementary paper.  He scribbled everything he could remember about that night, from the room number to the exact location of the sulfur pile.  "How did you hear about that?" he asked without looking up.

"I don't know, I don't remember them telling me!" she cried out.  Dean looked up from his nearly illegible writing to see Melody with her knees drawn to her chest and watering eyes.  

"Hey, hey, you're alright.  I'm not mad and I'm not going to hurt you.  I will never hurt you, I swear.  I was just surprised you knew about that because the story hasn't gotten around much."  Dean sighed in relief as she unfolded herself and wiped the tears.  "Is there anything you can tell me about what you've heard?"

"Yes," she said as her eyes scrunched up in an effort to remember.  "There was a boy there who said he was used as bait by a John Winchester.  He said John was on a hunt and he was going back to get the kid to use as Wendigo bait, but he ran away.  The boy looked like he was around my age, but he could have been younger."

"Do you know where he is now?" Maybe, just maybe Sam was still alive.  After all, we never did find his body and all we know is that a demon took him and he vanished off the map.  We had every hunter we came in contact with search for him, but none of them ever got anything.

"Last time I saw him, he was in a special ward, completely blocked off from everyone.  They told us it was because of fighting, but from the screams I heard coming from there, I didn't believe it.  That was six months ago."  Dean put his head in his hands and a few tears slipped down his face.  If that kid was Sammy, he'd probably be either dead or as good as by this point.  Maybe it wasn't Sam, though.  There was only one way to find out.  

Dean reached into his wallet and pulled out a photograph of Sam and himself taken about eight years ago.  It was a long shot, but maybe she would recognize him.  

"Is this the kid?"  Melody took the picture from Dean's hand cautiously and studied it intently.  He could almost see facial recognition scans going through her head.  After a minute or so, she returned the photograph to a very anxious Dean.

"I believe so, but when he came to us he wasn't quite as clean." 

"What do you mean?"  

"He was in very bad shape, I remember when they brought him to us last year and all the girls with first aid training were required to patch him up.  He had so many cuts, burns, bruises, and even a couple fractures we were amazed he kept going."

"How did you even know it was him?"

"The eyes, added to the fact that I heard some of the girls on the nightwatch say he would call out for a 'Dean' every once and a while."  She continued to talk about how she and about ten other girls cleaned his wounds and basically raised him from the dead.  Dean listened intently, determined for anymore hints that Sam could be alive.  Maybe he's not though.  Maybe it's some other poor kid that Dad used as bait.  The time frame is off after all and how many other people could have Sam's eye color and basic facial structure?  Wait!

"What was that?"  

"I said that he had some sort necklace with him.  It was small and a little corroded, but we could see it was a kind of symbol."

"What kind of symbol?  Here, draw it," he said as he saw her trying to sketch it in the air.  His heart was pounding now and everything was becoming clearer.  He knew it was Sam she was talking about and by the time she finished the sketch, every piece of evidence was solidified.  Dean began to cry tears of joy and greif all at once.  His brother was alive, meaning he might not still be, but at least he wasn't dead directly because of what Dean had done.  Of course, he still was the primary cause, but now if he died his blood was on the hands of another.

"Why are you crying?  Did I do something or-" He cut her off with a teary smile.

"Melody, you've done absolutely nothing wrong.  That boy you were talking about was my brother.  He went missing about seven years ago and up until you, I thought he was dead."  Melody and Dean sat in silence for a while as Dean began planning to get his brother out of that awful place.  Melody fell asleep soon after she was done talking and Dean stayed up for as long as he could after that making calls and figuring out when to execute his rescue mission.  He was half-tempted to leave right now, guns blazing, but the sleeping girl on the bed next to his made him reconsider.  Not yet, he told himself.