Dean Rescues Sam

BA Canon: No || AU

Timeline: 1993 (Dean is 14; Sam is 10)


(Part 1 of 4)

Dean growled, trying to get free of the wall. “You bitch,” he spat angrily. “What did you do to him?!”

The witch smirked, her long, lustrous blonde hair wafting in the air as the spell she’d hit Sam with started to die down. “You’ll soon find out,” she said with the deadly hiss of a promise. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Her chanting started again. Struggling, Dean’s eyes went wide as her hand, clawed around the air, lifted up in preparation to hit him.

Before she could get the blast off, someone slammed against the door. It shuddered. John Winchester’s voice could be heard outside the door. “I’m coming boys!”

“Damn,” the witch snarled. “Better make this quick.” She held up the hand again, preparing the spell.

The door shattered. John barreled in, tackling the witch without taking a breath. He slammed into her, knocking her away from Dean with a shriek.

Dean hit the ground, falling straight down from where he’d been pinned up over three feet in the air. He moaned, certain he’d broken something.

The groan tapered off when his eyes landed on something right next to the battling hunter and the witch. Something small, in familiar colors. Dean almost gasped.

Sammy!

He crawled over to the prostrate from. His brother was less than four inches tall, curled up in a tiny ball and shuddering in pain. Sam’s shudders increased as Dean lifted him off of the ground. Or maybe it was his hands that were shaking.

Dean was yanked off his feet without warning, John shoving him out of the door. His fingers curled protectively around his brother. “D-dad…” he stuttered. He had no idea what to do.

“Get in the car, Dean!”

A gunshot sounded out. A shrieking laugh was heard. The witch vanished before the bullet hit her. John held the gun in front of him as he backed away.

Dean got into the front seat of the Impala, holding his tiny brother against his chest. Sam had gone motionless, slumped across his fingers. “It’s okay, Sammy. I gotcha,” he whispered even as John dove into the driver’s seat and started it up. The car screeched out of the parking lot.

“Everything will be okay, Sam. I promise.”

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