Family Don't End With Blood /Destiel//Sabriel//Michifer

A Dose of Truth

Having waited for the return of their brothers long enough, Sam, Gabriel, Alfie and Elsa at last began the retreat down the bank and back to the campfire.

They'd phoned both Dean and Cas numerous times; none of their calls had been answered.  It had to be assumed that the pair had adopted some form of radio silence. Either that, or something had happened that was preventing them from reaching their phones.

No one wanted to think about that. 

Sam and Gabriel led the way back towards the others. They walked in silence.  The air was still, and Sam watched the rising embers of the fire flicker and disappear into the night.  He took a long breath and the scent of smoke filling his lungs. 

He was going to have a lot to answer for.

The circle around the fire received them with an awkward, bordering on sympathetic, silence. Gabriel and Alfie sat in their original places, guiding the other two down beside them.

It was several long minutes before anyone spoke.

"So, uh," Sam coughed, "Does anyone have any questions?"  He felt as nervous as the day he'd first arrived at the school and been greeted by a sea of blank faces.

"Yeah, can I ask something?"

Sam nodded, giving Charlie the go ahead.

"What Dean said, was it true?"

"Yes."  Sam was looking at the floor.

"Your Dad's really in jail?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"Child abuse," Sam whispered, knowing that it wouldn't take a genius to guess exactly which children had been abused.

There was silence.

Sam instinctively traced the last of the bruising visible across the side of his jaw.

"You said you walked into a door," Gabriel murmured.

"I lied."  Sam smiled sadly, attempting to suppress tears.

Gabriel reached out and held the Winchester's hand, squeezing it tightly, trying to suppress the anger he felt building at the thought that anyone would dare touch Sam like that, especially his own father.

Lucifer watched the pair quietly. 

He thought of Dean. 

Dean who always had a snarky comment, a defensive tone and quick reflexes.  Dean who had an anger living somewhere inside him.  Dean who'd sat alone outside the canteen, talking to himself, saying something about a John.  A John who'd constantly told him what a screw up he was.

Lucifer knew who that name must belong to.

Kevin cleared his throat a little awkwardly and looked instinctively toward Sam for any kind of answer.  He was a little surprised to receive a reply from the youngest Winchester instead.

"Go ahead," she smiled slightly, "Ask away."

Kevin turned slightly. "Sorry, I just— you don't have a mother?"

"She died in a house fire when we were kids. Sam and I were too young to even remember her."

Mary had been Sam's blood as well as the very reason Elsa had been brought into the family.  She'd been their loving mother, whether they remembered or not, and she was lost to them forever.  At least Dean still remembered: her face, her laugh, her voice.  Hey Jude meant something entirely different when he sang it.  It meant home.

Michael suddenly burst into tears.

Mary had died horribly.  He was immediately reminded of the loss of his own mother. But it was more than that. It was worse. He'd had his whole life, up until that point, to get to know her. The fact that the Winchesters had never been allowed that was just wrong.

It was unbearable.

Sam got up Gabriel's side and moved around the circle, reaching Michael and pulling him into a one-armed hug, the other arm extended in invitation.  Quietly, Elsa stood and slotted herself beside her brother, who wrapped his free arm gently around her.

Michael was still crying. 

And then so was Sam. 

And then Elsa too.

All three were aware of how odd the must look: sat there clinging to each other and allowing their emotions to stream down their faces.

Perhaps there was something in the air, because some of the others began to cry too.

Slowly, the trio released each other.

"So," Meg wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, "Not to pry or anything, but what were you guys doing before you moved here?"

"Travelling," Elsa sniffed.

"We lived on the road," Sam explained, "John — our father — was convinced that, uh," he paused, struggling to find a normal way to explain their past situation, before realising that there wasn't one. He bit the inside of his cheek lightly.  "He was convinced that a demon started the fire that killed our mother.  He was determined to hunt it down."

"He taught us how to shoot and how to fight, as well as any and every piece of mythology he could find. If it had something to do with the supernatural, we knew about it and, more importantly, we knew how to kill it."

Know, Elsa silently corrected herself, We still know how to kill them.

Sam nodded.  Just about everything there was to know about the Winchesters was now out in the open.

"One last thing," Adam hesitated, "Was any of it real? All that stuff about the supernatural— was it true?"

"Honestly?" Sam sighed, "I have no idea."

And there it was.

The worst part about everything in the Winchesters' lives so far. The fire from their childhood was still as it always had been: unexplained. All that time they'd spent chasing shadows, constantly moving away, never really getting the chance to stop and think; all that time, wasted.

Because they still didn't know what had started that fire. And they'd accepted long ago that they were never going to find out.

A/N

Sorry that this chapter was probably quite boring and repetitive (given that you knew most of the facts already) but it was necessary for the benefit of the other characters.

I'll try to publish the next chapter relatively soon.

Thanks for continuing to read,

~ Kat