Wayward Son

The last thing Kevin remembered was shaking the hands of the Interior Design Consultant, a man with the warm smile and soft brown eyes that look at you when he said, ‘I’m Dennis Hayman and this is my son, Kyle, I hope you don’t mind him tagging along?’

Everything else had been a blur and the next thing he knew, he had lost control over his own body, he could hear himself talking but knew he hadn’t uttered a word. It was really strange and for a few minutes Kevin was sure he was dreaming, that he would soon wake up and laugh it off.

But that didn’t happen. Instead he watched, helpless, as whatever it was that had taken over his body, invited himself in to the suite, fooled the guys, won Nick’s trust with his smile, his voice, his memories, and then the horror of realising that it was his hands that had held the blade that had sliced across Nick’s throat.

He remembered the desperation, the will, he remembered hearing Brian’s voice, pleading with him to fight it and he wasn’t sure what it was that he was supposed to fight against, could he fight against his own body? All he knew was, he couldn’t go through with it, wouldn’t let it, wouldn’t have Nick’s blood in his hands, and he remembered praying, remembered pushing and then yelling No!, surprised himself when it worked that he let go of Nick’s body.

He wasn’t sure how he had gained control of his body fully after that, he was just suddenly there, and the missing pieces started to patch up the entire picture and he knew Dennis Hayman and his son was bad news.

“Howie’s in trouble,” Kevin croaked as he attempted to get back on his feet. Dean pushed him back down gently and Kevin could only question him with his eyes, he was still seeing double of everything.

“Stay here, we’ll handle this.”

“He’s just a kid.”

“Well yeah he might have that puppy face going on for him,” Dean shrugged. “But he’s not just a kid.”

And with that parting shot, followed by Sam’s silent nod, they left, leaving him helpless when it came to AJ and Howie. God help them all.

“Kev you okay?”

He blinked and registered that Brian was talking to him. The dizziness had passed, which he was thankful for.

“Kev? I really need your help here.”

Then he noticed Nick, bloodied and unconscious in Brian’s arms and he knew he shouldn’t be shocked at the sight (it was his hands that had done the act after all) but it sent a wave of panic through him regardless.

“Kevin, he’s fading.”

Fading. What does that mean? Was Nick semi-transparent now? Was he going to just evaporate into thin air and ceased to exist?

He found himself on his knees, his hands reaching out to brush the blood matted hair away, inspecting the bleeding gash across the hairline. He knew whatever was in his body was gone for good, knew this was entirely his own doings, but it still felt like his brain was a few seconds short with the rest of his body, as if moving on its own accord.

“Is he still bleeding from the other wound?” from the slash across the neck that I gave him?

“No…no I don’t think,” Brian stammered. “Kev, this shirt’s soaked through.”

Kevin stared at the grey shirt in Brian’s hands, now soiled in blood. Too much blood bleeding out of a head wound, that shouldn’t be good.

“Try to wake him,” Kevin said, knew he failed at sounding calm, felt sorry he couldn’t offer any kind of comfort to his cousin. “I’ll get some clean cloth and call 911.”

“Hurry Kev, we don’t have much time.”

We don’t have much time.

Nick didn’t have much time.

He slit his throat and now Nick’s fading away.

Kevin rushed to the kitchen, flung every kitchen cabinet door opened, knew Kristin had stashed all the new kitchen towels somewhere there. They would be white and some still in their individual packaging because Kevin always liked to be prepared, something that drove Kristin to the walls.

What could have happened that warrant us the need for extra kitchen towels Kevin? She had asked.

Well now he knew, now they would know.

He found them at last; of course they’d be right next to the dishwasher, an entire drawer filled with white kitchen towels. He took five folds with him, stopped by the fridge and grabbed two bottles of Evian to clean the wound with, wished they had thought about storing first aid earlier (he also decided he needed help because he had thought about kitchen towel supplies but not first aid?) and then grabbed the cordless phone off it’s holder by the wall (successfully ignoring the fact that it was now stained with Nick’s blood on his fingers) and rushed back to the living room.

Only to find Brian and Nick were joined by AJ and Howie with the Winchesters to round up the pack, being held hostage (he really couldn’t find a better term for it) by Kyle, the Demon’s kid.

= =

It was like being in a dream at first, nothing made much sense. He saw things from the past, memories, and remembered them all, knew they had happened, knew the outcome of each and every one of them, but still he found himself anxious to see that outcome, like watching IT for the hundredth time, knew the clown was going to flash across the screen but he would still anticipate on that exact moment and still jump in shock when it did. But they were memories nonetheless, they were familiar, they were his, so he didn’t quite mind it at first.

And then it took a turn to the unfamiliar, memories that weren’t his, and he wondered, for a brief second, if getting visions while being deeply unconscious; meant that his ‘ability’ was growing?

He saw himself being cradled in Brian’s arms, Howie sitting next to him, holding his right arm protectively, as if it was broken. AJ was still standing, with a bleeding lip, staring at Kevin who had just came out of the kitchen with fear in his eyes. There was a young boy, about fourteen, standing in the middle of the room, he had never seen him before.

Sam appeared to be talking to the young boy, who looked somewhat pissed. Dean looked torn, standing right behind Sam, unsure if he should let his brother handle the situation or step in the way, pull Sammy back and make sure he was safe. He knew that stance, knew of four other guys who had been doing that when it came to him. You protect your own.

Then Sam cried out loud, hands now gripping at his own head, as if some unseen forces were trying to rip his head off.

No one moved, they seemed shocked by the turn of event, but Dean did not hesitate, he pulled Sam back and held on to his brother as Sam dropped to his knees, groaning in pain.

“What did you do!” Dean yelled at the young boy, but the kid didn’t seem to hear Dean, didn’t seem to be aware of anyone else but Sam.

“Sam! Sammy talk to me!” Dean urged. Sam was still struggling, still trying to fight whatever it was that was invincible to everyone else.

And then Kevin dropped everything in his hands and ran forward and yelled, “Kyle, stop it!”

Surprisingly, Kyle heard Kevin and even though Sam was still crying out in pain, Kyle turned his attention to him and said, “I thought this is what you want me to do? You told me to.”

“What did I tell you to do Kyle?”

“Read them,” Kyle replied. “I’ll get right to the next one once I’m done with this one.”

“What do you mean read him!” Dean yelled.

“SHUT UP!” Kyle yelled and Dean fell flat on his ass, as if being pushed by an invisible force.

“Kyle, you need to stop reading him or he’ll die,” Kevin said. He wasn’t sure how Kevin knew this and wondered if Kevin was just saying it to scare the kid.

Sam had stopped yelling and for a second, he thought Kyle had taken the bait, but then Dean cried out for his brother again and his voice was strong, protective, older, yet he couldn’t help hearing the pain, fear and anger layered into it as well.

Sam’s nose was bleeding, just like his had when he started getting the visions and he knew this wasn’t good at all, and that it was up to him to make things right, to come and hopefully save the day.

First, he needed to wake the hell up.

= =

Brian wasn’t sure what was going on exactly. At first, he was preoccupied at trying to stop the bleeding from the nasty gash on Nick’s forehead. Already he was panicking because he had tried everything, from calling out loud to slapping his face, but Nick didn’t do as much as stir. He checked for pulse and at the third try still wasn’t sure if that had been Nick’s heartbeat or his because everything was getting too confusing, closing in on them both and it was getting too hard to take a decent breath in.

Then Sam and Dean had returned with AJ and Howie and he allowed himself to relax a little, knowing at least now he didn’t have to be alone, didn’t have to be the one who witness Nick taking his last breath in his arms wondering if he could have done more, if he had allowed himself to just sit there and do nothing to save him. But the respite was short lived when he saw there was a fifth in the group that was making their way towards them.

Unbelievable, he thought, being held hostage by a fourteen year old. A fourteen year old who seemed unarmed and those eyes, so big and innocent…

And then Sam had dropped in his brother’s arms, much like the way Nick was now laying on his. Kevin had been trying to convince the kid to stop doing what he was doing (and Brian was so lost about that, because the kid was doing nothing but staring at Sam and surely one can’t die from a stare, and he refused to believe that the term ‘deadly stare’ was to be taken literally!) but nothing worked and now Sam had given in to the darkness, limp and still with a nosebleed that was freaking the hell out of big brother.

The kid said he was reading Sam and that he’d come for Nick just like Kevin told him to, and Brian had never felt this lost before, not even when he was trying to make sense of what was going on to the people stranded on that island in that tv show that AJ made him watch, and that was saying a lot!

“Brian.”

Howie sounded alarmed and Brian raised his head to look at him. Howie was still cradling his right arm against his chest protectively, he was losing the colour on his face too and Brian was beginning to think that it wasn’t just a sprain like Howie had claimed earlier; it seemed broken.

“Nicky’s nose is bleeding.”

= =

Something foreign was in his head and it scared the crap out of him that he could even tell that. He wondered if this was exactly how Kevin had felt when he was possessed. It wasn’t as if he could see anything, he was too deep in unconsciousness that he had given up willing himself to wake up. But he could feel it; the pressure at the back of his head, as if some invincible hands were squishing his brain.

Stop that.

He wasn’t sure if whatever it was that was currently playing around in his head could hear his thoughts, but at this point, he’d be willing to do anything.

The pressure was getting more intense now and he wished he still had control over his own body because he really needed to move, to do something, anything, just to stop the pain.

And then he heard it. The voice. It wasn’t the voice of the yellow-eyed demon though, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to at least feel a little relief about that.

He said you’re a bad person.

If he could roll his eyes, he would. The kid needed to be more specific because a lot of people apparently believed he was a bad person.

Well you must be a bad person too, he decided to reply.

What do you mean?

Heard of any good kids who go around in people’s head and messing them up? I don’t think so. You’re hurting me so you’re a bad boy.

He said you needed to be stopped.

And you believed him? What had he done for you that you believed him that much?

He believed me. He said he has big plans for me.

We’re talking about the yellow eyed dude right?

Yes. Father.

Father my ass. That’s not your father. He’s a demon and we exorcised him while you were busy kicking my friends’ ass. He’s back in hell, you can stop now.

That’s what Samuel told me.

You need to believe both of us. We’re like you, we know what you’re going through, but first, you need to let us go or you’ll kill us both, do you want to be a killer?

There was silence yet the pressure continued to build and it depressed him to think that if he didn’t pull through this, the last thing he ever felt was disappointment.

= =

“Is it true?” Kyle said suddenly, catching Kevin off guard.

“What is?”

“You’re not him,” Kyle said. “Father.”

“No, I’m not him Kyle,” Kevin replied, shaking his head. “He’s a bad man and they have taken him away. You have nothing to worry now.”

“Nick said he’s a demon and you’ve sent him back to hell.”

That caught everyone’s attention like a full blown neon billboard. “You talked to Nick?”

The young boy nodded, eyes now back to where Nick lay cradled in Brian’s arms. “I read him and there’s not an evil bone in his body. I don’t know why Father told me otherwise.”

“Because he’s not your Father Kyle, he’s a bad thing.”

Kyle nodded to show that he understood. “Sam said that too. That I shouldn’t trust anything that has yellow eyes. It’s not normal.”

The tension was broken by Dean’s silent snort. “Ah Sammy.”

“Look Kyle, I know it’s confusing for you right now,” Kevin began. “But you need help, and Dean and Sam there, they can help you understand. They can get you back home.”

“I don’t have a home,” Kyle whispered and Kevin found himself no longer afraid of this young man, who seemed suddenly so fragile and alone and in need of a great big hug. “Mom died when I was a baby and dad put me in the system. No one ever adopt me until Father came along.”

Kevin wished he had the perfect thing to say to the boy. Something that would make everything okay, but he knew there was nothing. And everything was not okay at all. Not for Kyle, not for Sammy and definitely not for Nick, who was still lying unconscious on the floor, with that thin red line across his neck screaming back at him.

“Sam? Hey, you all right?”

Sam was stirring back to consciousness and if things had been a little different, Kevin would find it amusing that Kyle had subconsciously moved closer to him and further away from Sam, as if afraid of the repercussion for reading (whatever that means) him.

Sam was moaning in pain and Dean was torn between telling his brother to stay down or to hurry back up and just be okay, for everybody’s sakes.

“Dean,” Sam muttered, eyes still closed. “Dean, Nick’s not gonna make it…we gotta help…”

“Okay, okay, just…just lay down for a minute and get better, we got this one.” Dean assured Sam and with AJ’s help, they placed a cushion for Sam’s head to rest on and tissues to stop the nosebleed.

Meanwhile, Howie was already on the phone, dialling 911, his right arm still held close to his chest.

Kevin went straight to Brian and Nick and passed him the kitchen towels. “This should stop the bleeding for now.”

“Do you think Sam had a vision about Nick?” Brian asked, almost in a whisper. “He had one before Kev, remember?”

How could Kevin forget? They told him that it was because of the vision of Nick dying in a bar that had led the Winchesters to them in the first place. Had they tried to play God and was trying to stop the inevitable? Were Nick supposed to die anyway?

“He’s going to make it.” Kevin replied instead, not once looking up to meet his cousin’s eyes.

“Paramedic’s coming in five minutes,” Howie announced.

“Good, good,” AJ muttered as he grabbed for a kitchen towel and pressed it on his split lip.

“Dean…” Sam muttered, fighting his brother’s arms that were stopping him from getting up. “We can’t be here when they come.”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked. “You need help too Sam.”

“Y…don’t un’stand…”

“I’m a wanted man,” Dean explained. “They’ll arrest my brother just to get to me.”

“But you can’t just leave now,” Howie said. “You can’t even stand.”

There was silence as Sam heavily leaned against Dean, who seemed to be struggling with himself. Then, without warning, Dean nodded, looking resolute. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this Sammy.”

Dean pulled his brother up to his feet, swung his arm over his shoulder and then looked at Kevin. “We’ll take Kyle with us, there are good hunters who still live the American life out there who’d be willing to take him in and protect him.”

Kevin nodded. “I’ll see that you get out of here smoothly.”

He took one last look at Nick, hoped they weren’t too late, and then went for Kyle. “Come on Kyle, Sam and Dean are going to take you home okay?”

Kyle nodded. “I’m sorry, for everything.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Howie smiled.

“Good luck kid.” AJ said. Brian just smiled and nodded at him.

Outside, the world moved on as if nothing supernatural had just happened inside the house of the Richardson’s. Everything was beautiful, calm and serene. It disturbed Kevin to the core.

The black Chevy was the one dark thing to haunt the roadside. Shiny metal and worn out leather that screamed danger; yet beautiful in its own gothic ways.

Kevin opened the door to the back seat to allow Dean to pretty much deposited his still half conscious, lanky brother in before quickly closing the door again.

“Kyle, you get shotgun.” Dean said. The young man nodded obediently and did as told. “I hope your brother gets through this. I’m sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused you.”

Kevin shook his head and smiled. “No, your brother and you have helped him in ways none of us could. Here, I feel responsible for Kyle. It’s nothing much, just something to start with.”

Kevin passed all five thousand in cash that he had in his wallet into Dean’s hands. It was supposed to be the deposit payment for the design of the nursery.

“Just make sure he ends up in good hands?”

Dean nodded. “We’ll make sure of it, thanks.”

As Dean made his way to the driver’s side of the car, Kevin called him out once again. “Hey Dean, I’m sorry Sammy can’t get the help he needs. I hope he gets better soon.”

There was a second of understanding between them, realised they weren’t that different after all, both feeling the responsibilities towards they’re younger charge and Kevin decided if these two men could survive each other while everything was going against them, he knew he’d do anything to see that Nick stays safe as long as he was around.

= =

Kevin was talking to him. He had been talking to him for what felt like forever now. Sometimes he could hear Brian. Sometimes it was Howie and other times it was AJ. It was always one of their voices that managed to pull him back to consciousness, but never far enough for him to fully open his eyes and acknowledge their presence. Today it felt different, today his head didn’t feel like it was going to explode from the slightest of movement, today he couldn’t feel the tube that was pushed down his throat to help him breathe. Today, Kevin was talking about how Brian and Howie had to explain to a nurse on duty when she walked in on them lining salt around his hospital bed.

Kevin was laughing softly as he talked. He talked about finding out a way to reach the Winchesters without really having to talk to them and sending them a thank you gift that he was sure they’d love. He talked about Kristin, and how she had been driving him crazy with shopping for the baby and of his dilemma to choose the perfect crib out of the five that they ridiculously had fallen for. He also begged him to wake up and get AJ away from him because the guy had been trying to convince all of them to have the devil’s trap tattoo on their shoulders.

It wasn’t until half way into Kevin’s ramblings that he realised he was actually alert to everything he heard around him. Yet he didn’t open up his eyes, still didn’t acknowledge his presence and he wondered for a few seconds if it was because he was afraid of Kevin, of the thing that had managed to get inside of him and had forced the older man to almost kill him. That thought quickly washed away because that was just absurd. Nothing could make him fear of Kevin, perhaps fear for him, but never of him. It just felt nice, to be where he was then, to see darkness at the back of his eyelids but to not fear it.

He heard Brian and Howie entering the room a few moments later, he heard Kevin asking them how they had managed to convince the nurse that they weren’t nuts and shouldn’t be kicked out of the building and then AJ entered last, with his ‘hi bitches’ and the lingering smell of cheese pizza invading his senses.

“AJ what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut up, you all know you want a piece of this.”

“Nick’s gonna be pissed dawg.”

“Well the little dick will just have to wake up now won’t he?”

“Nice, bribe the unconscious one won’t you.”

“Hey, if it works.”

“I hope you asked for hot sauce.”

“Just for you my man, how’s the arm?”

“Itchy.”

“You shouldn’t really scratch it D.”

He couldn’t do it anymore, already he could feel the corners of his lips smirking, not to mention the growl of his stomach wanting some good old hot cheese pizza. Besides, he missed these guys, and he wanted to be with them, like the good old days, even though things have shifted in the group, with him, some things are just too strong to completely collapse and deemed unsalvageable, like their brotherhood for one, because that, is for life.

= =

Somewhere in the back streets (sorry, can’t help myself) of USA.

“Everything that’s mailed from that postal code is in that box,” Dean said, waving his hand to the backseat of the impala where an opened package sat. “New battery for your laptop, there’s a book called ‘Living After Death’, which is crap by the way dude, doesn’t make sense at -”

“A friend of mine was reading it back at Stanford,” Sam explained as he turned sideways on his sit to grab the package at the back.

“And here I thought they only accept smart kids there.”

“Hilarious Dean.”

“I know I’m funny,” Dean shrugged. “You’re just weird.”

Sam didn’t bother retorting, knowing only too well that it would only feed Dean’s needs to continue teasing him.

“Um, Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you make this card for us?”

Dean turned to look for a second. It was a black credit card. He shook his head. “I didn’t. It’s just black dude, maybe it’s a key card or something?”

“It’s a credit card you idiot,” Sam said. “The black credit card, no spending limit Dean.”

That, caught Dean’s attention. “Really? We can like, use it to buy anything?”

“You can buy a friggin house with this damn thing.”

“We don’t need a house,” Dean said. “We could get you a car, so I don’t have to listen to you whine all day.”

“Dude, you’re missing the point here,” Sam said. “We didn’t register for this card. How did it end up in our p.o. box?”

“I didn’t even notice it there just now. You know, if you just stop talking for a minute and actually look inside the box, I bet you’ll find out who send it to us.”

Sam hated it when Dean made much more sense than he does. If anything, it made Dean cockier.

“Yeah, it’s from Kevin Richardson.”

“Nick’s brother?”

“Yup,” Sam nodded. “He said Nick’s stable and should make a full recover and that we should accept this little gift as their thanks for our help.”

“Sam, we can’t take that.”

“I know.”

“It’s too much.”

“I’ll send it back.”

Dean just nodded and made the first turn to the left after seeing a diner sign pointing to that direction.

“Hey, why are there copies of People magazine and the Enquirer in here?”

Dean shrugged, eyes trained on the road, because it was a sharp turn that he had to take, not because he was trying to avoid his brother, for real. “Taking tabs on your new psychic buddy.”

“You do remember we exchanged phone numbers with him before we left for LA right?” Sam asked. Dean just pouted his lips and said not a word. It was then that it came to him. “Oh dude, you just wanna see if people are still talking about Nick’s mysterious, gorgeous friend!”

Dean said nothing and turned up the volume of the cassette player only to hear Bon Jovi belting out ‘Always’ so he quickly turned it off. “Okay that’s it Sam, you’re never driving this baby again!”