Chapter Text
It was after two in the morning when the intro to Metallica's Orion woke him.
Dean didn't even sit up to answer. He just opened the phone and groaned an attempt at hello.
There were no pleasantries. No words of wisdom that usually filled these calls. Just:
"We have him. He's alive."
Dean's head swam. He was half convinced that he was still dreaming. It wouldn't be the first time Dean had this dream.
The the FBI agent who had been tasked with finding his brother added, "he's going to St. Mark's in Millcreek, Utah. A Salt Lake suburb. I'll send you the details when he gets a room."
While Dean knew that Agent Abernathy was fallowing leads in Utah, that was still too much detail to be a dream. Dean nonetheless pinched himself just to be absolutely certain.
Then something Abernathy said made Dean's racing heart stop dead.
"You said when." Dean was doing his best not to let his voice tremble. "What do you mean: when? Is Sam ok?"
"Physically, yes. A hit to the head and a superficial cut on his hand. The EMTs say the head injury isn't serious. He can talk coherently and his pupils are normal." Abernathy explained. "It's very normal to keep someone for observations after a traumatic event like this. Especially in his ... condition."
Dean blinked a few times. It almost felt like Abernathy was explaining two different scenario. "What condition? You just said he's ok."
"It seems Eric Bliss kept Sam because of his ... gender. Or that's my theory right now." Abernathy was doing his best to be delicate, it was only making Dean more angry.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean was now standing.
"Sam told me. It's actually very obvious right now." Abernathy continued his nervous dance. "Dean, I know you've probably convinced yourself that it's impossible and you wouldn't want it to happen under these cercumstances, but Sam's pregnant."
Dean thought his brain blew a fuse. For a moment everything was white and there was a ringing in his ear.
Sam was most definitely a man from birth. There was no question about that. Hell, Dean potty trained him and gave him baths. He knew what Sam was.
As he mulled over the impossibility of the news in his head, something clicked in his sleep deprived brain. Something he'd been fearing since Sam was taken.
This was obviously magic of some type. Transmutation by the sound of it.
Sam was taken because he's a Winchester, Dean reasoned. All of this was probably some retaliation against their father.
"Fuck," was all that came out of Dean's mouth. "I'm ... I'm coming. Now. I'm in Colorado. I should be there by morning."
Abernathy began to ask Dean to get some more rest, but Dean hung up on him before he could complete a sentence.
In the still dark motel room, Dean felt the panic set in after hanging up. It was as though all the air had been sucked out of his lungs.
Sam – of all God damn people – Sam was the one to fall victim to whatever this was. Not Dean. Not their father. But the most innocent of the Winchesters, in Dean's eyes at least.
Dean punched the headboard, and tried to push down the chaos of emotions that was threatening to take over. Whatever this was, he could worry about it later. Right now, Sam needed him. He could lose it later.
Dean had packed up his things, dressed, and made it to his car within fifteen minutes. No one was in the office, so Dean left the keys with an apology and a note to keep the deposit.
He was about to start his car when he realized he hadn't called his father.
Abernathy almost exclusively spoke to Dean after a bad conversation with John. Dean wasn't all that surprised. John had a way of wearing out his welcome, particularly when he was stressed or angry. God help you if it was both, and a federal agent to top it off.
Still, after finding Sam alive, it seemed like a logical step that Abernathy would tell John.
No missed calls. John was either on the phone with Abernathy or he didn't know yet.
Dean let out a long sigh and opened his father's contact to call. He prayed that John wouldn't pick up, but after two rings, those hopes were shattered.
"Dad," Dean said after his father greated him on the other end. "They found Sam. He's alive."
"What?!" John voice came across as fully awake now.
"In Utah, they found Sam." Dean clarified. "I'll text you the details. He doesn't have a room yet. I don't even think he's at the hospital. But you'll know as soon as I do."
The thoughts of Sam being tortured and changed for some prevented game filled Dean's mind. He didn't even know if he should tell his dad everything.
His broken sense of humor threatened to laugh at the idea of John walking into Sam's hospital room and getting the shock of his life. Guilt quickly replaced any amusement. His conscience wondering what the hell was wrong with him for finding any of this funny.
John had been talking as Dean internally debated whether or not to tell his father what happened to Sam. Dean only realized this after his father called his name.
"Dean," John repeated. "Are you listening?"
Dean let out a sigh. "Uh, no. Sorry. It's ... um, I don't really know how to explain it."
"Did something happen to Sam?" John asked without hesitation.
"That's one way to put it. Yeah." Dean held his face in his hand. "Abernathy said that he's awake and making sense. The EMTs said his pupils looked fine, and they're not worried about the hit to his head."
John was silent, but Dean could hear the question regardless.
"Dad," Dean began, not entirely sure how he was going to explain any of this. Even with everything they've seen and killed, this was definitely uncharted territory. "Fuck ... look, I don't know how you're going to react or what you'll think. Hell, you'll probably think I lost my mind. But," he took another breath, "the bastard that took Sam, he changed Sam. My guess, based on very limited information, is transmutation."
"What do you mean: changed Sam?" John cut in.
"I'm just going to say it. Ok?" Dean was bracing himself for John to snap at any moment. "Sam's pregnant."
There was only silence on the other end. Not even confused stammers. Just cold, unreadable silence.
"Yeah. I know." Dean continued only because he had no control of the words coming out. "It sounds like he looks like himself. Like a guy, I mean. Just his ... downstairs business and some internal plumbing was changed. I think the cops are under the impression this is a Boys Don't Cry situation."
The other end of the line was still dead silent. The receiver picking up the occasional breath was the only indication at John was still on the other end.
"Dad?" Dean called.
"What hospital?" John's voice was disturbingly calm. It sent shivers up Dean's spin.
Dean blinked a few times before answering. "Uh ... St. Mark's in Millcreek – outside Salt Lake."
He didn't know why he told his father where they were taking Sam with such little hesitation. Something was clearly wrong. He could feel it in his bones.
"I'm in the ca–"
Dean was cut off by the sound of the call disconnecting. His heart lept into his throat when those little beeps rang in his ear.
John had split up with Dean almost a week ago. It seemed like he was on a hunt, but wasn't giving Dean much detail. All Dean really knew was he was in Jerome, Idaho. He'd get to Sam hours before Dean even reached Utah.
Dean burried his hands in his hair, doubled over as far as the steering wheel would let him, and let out a scream.
It took him a moment to stop shaking in anger. His chest so tight, he was half concerned that he'd stop breathing.
When he was finally able to sit up again, Dean peeled out of the parking lot and made for I-70.