WOTR | Book 1 Part IV
War Of The Regions:
Book 1 Part IV
Masterpost
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Dean’s washing up the plates that evening, while John is still out in the village, when he hears footsteps come into the room.
“Dean,” a quiet, shaky voice says, and Dean whips his head around, sees Sam standing in the doorway, eyes bright and shining, his lip trembling.
“Sammy,” Dean says, walking towards him, and opens his arms on instinct, and that’s as much an invitation as Sam needs, and he wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and rests his head against his chest. Dean wraps his arms around Sam, feels him shake gently against him, and Dean says soft words of comfort, knowing Sam can’t hear him but feeling like it’s the natural thing to do. He rubs a hand up and down his back and Sam grips tighter.
Dean lets his brother hug him while he cries, lets Sam sob into his neck until they start to slowly dissipate and Dean gently pulls back, and looks Sam steadily in the eyes.
“Hey, Sammy,” he says, and moves a stray length of hair from his face and tucks it behind his ear. “What’s got you upset?”
Sam continues to stare at him, eyes red and wet, and wipes a hand under his nose. “Can’t hear,” he says eventually, voice choking on the words.
Dean pulls him against his chest again for another hug and Sam reciprocates gladly, hands clenching at the material of Dean’s t-shirt, willing to ignore Sam’s tears and not tease him this one time. Dean knew this day would come, they all did, but it’s still as much as a shock as when they first discovered Sammy’s hearing was worsening.
Now it seems it’s completely gone, or at least worsened to a severe enough level to have Sam panicking. Dean is glad they can still communicate with their hands with the shapes and signs they’ve created for various words and phrases, and is thankful for small mercies. It doesn’t quite hit him until then that their hands are all they will be communicating with from now on, and Dean hopes they know enough now to get them by. It should be okay. It will be. He’ll make sure of it.
Dean pulls back again and walks over to the sink, pours some water into a mug for Sam, and hands it to him. He drinks it quickly, signs thank you, and puts it down on the kitchen table. He grips the edge of his t-shirt, toying with the material, a nervous habit that seems to appear more frequently recently.
Dean puts one hand on his shoulder and says, “It’s going to be okay.”
Sam looks away, tears threatening to spill again, and gives a small nod. Dean gently puts two fingers under Sam’s chin and tilts his head back towards him.
“I mean it, Sammy. You’re my little brother. It’s my job to look after you. I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”
Sam smiles at him, weakly, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. It’s okay, Dean signs. You. Me. Okay.
Dean continues to hold him until the tears stop, and John comes home. He gives Sam a kiss on the top of his head and orders them both to bed, and Sam nods solemnly before heading out of the room.
John shares a look with Dean in the quiet of the room and then shakes his head.
“They’re coming,” he says, pulling a bottle of liquor out of the inside of his jacket pocket. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Dean stares at him awkwardly, wanting to ask more but not really wanting to hear the answer.
“Who are?” he asks quietly, and John looks up at him with dark, tired eyes.
“The Officials. The Highlands.”
Dean continues to stand there, his heart beginning to race, the conversation he had with Andy and everything their dad has been making them do the last few days falling into place.
“We have to leave,” Dean says, the realization hitting him hard. “We’re going to have to leave.”
John glances at him again before nodding and taking a sip from the bottle. “When they come.”
Dean waits for more, for some information on what they’re going to do, where they’re going to go and if they’re going to fight.
Instead John screws the lid back on his bottle and tells Dean to go to bed. Hesitantly, he does. He slips under the covers, and looks towards Sam in the darkness to see his wide, bright eyes watching him.
Dean reaches forward and gives his arm a gentle squeeze, and slowly, Sam shuts his eyes. Dean stares up at the ceiling in the darkness and wonders how much longer they have left living in safety.
The answer comes to him the next day, when Sam and him are in the woods, putting in some last minute knife practice. Sam still doesn’t know, and Dean had insisted on keeping him in the dark as long as possible, to keep him innocent as long as they can.
Dean is pulling his knife out of the tree when he hears a heavy roaring sound like a giant engine from above, and he looks up into the sky, subconsciously reaching for Sam’s arm. Sam looks up then too, to see a large, low-flying plane soaring over them, causing the birds to squawk and fly away in panic.
Once the plane has passed, Dean looks over to Sam, who’s eyes are still focused on the direction the plane had flown in.
“Airplane?” Sam asks, turning to face Dean, sounding out of breath.
“Yeah, you heard that?” Dean asks, moving his hands to make the signs as he speaks.
Sam nods and looks back in the direction it had flown in. “Yeah. Must’ve been loud.”
From behind them Dean hears the sound of hurried footsteps, and Dean taps Sam on the shoulder, motions to get down and puts a finger to his lips. Stay quiet. Stay down.
Sam nods at him. What you hear?
Dean glances over to the direction of the breaking twigs and scattering squirrels. Footsteps.
The two boys glance over the top of the bush they’re hidden behind, and Dean sees a dark figure looming towards them. There’s a low whistle, that gets higher and higher in pitch and Dean lets out a breath of relief, starts a low trilling sound and waits until the person has come into view. He already knows who it is.
John steps out in front of them and Dean stands, motioning for Sam to do so, too.
“We’re leaving now,” John says, breathless, staring at them both, expression serious. He faces Sam and says, “We need to run. Keep close to Dean.”
Sam nods and John turns, and they begin a quick sprint through the woods, Dean keeping his hand loosely gripped around Sam’s sleeve the entire way. As they get closer to the fence the sounds of shouting get louder and clearer and Dean tightens his grip on Sam.
John stops and motions for Dean to go first, which he does with speed, and then Sam goes up after him, followed by John. Once on the other side they jump the stream, run up the chalky path, and then slow down once by Rufus’.
“You get your brother and yourself back at home. Stay out of view of the streets,” John says quickly, glancing around as he speaks. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Pack a bag. Essentials.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean says, and John leaves, running in the direction of the marketplace.
Sam turns to Dean, makes the sign for What?, and Dean quickly explains it to him. Danger. Stay hidden. Home, now. Pack bags. Dad back in ten.
Okay, Sam says, and they start moving quietly along the side of Rufus’ hut, making sure there’s nobody in the clearing before heading along the trees, keeping out of sight. Dean takes them the long way around, safer than the direct road through the marketplace, so they turn up in their back garden, and head through the back door. The sound of shouting and screams can be heard in the distance and Dean tries to ignore them, thankful, for once, that Sam can’t hear.
Pack bags, Dean says, and Sam runs into the bedroom, and Dean hunts through the kitchen cupboards for food to bring. He chucks it all into his satchel and puts in a metal flask of water. Sam comes back out with his bag full of clothes.
Clothes for me and you.
Dean nods at him and gets out two bowls before heading to the fire, and pouring out some broth.
Eat this quickly, he says, handing it over to him. Keep your strength up.
Sam does as he is told and Dean pours himself his own bowl, eating it with speed and then throwing it into the sink.
It’s at that point that John comes rushing through the doorway with Jo, Ellen, and Bobby behind him.
“Ready?” he asks. “Food, clothes, knives?”
“We’re ready,” Dean replies, and John turns back around and out of the door.
Come on, Sammy, Dean says, and Sam follows him, eyes wide but determined, and Dean breathes a little easier seeing that he isn’t afraid. They walk out onto the path that leads up to their cottage and the screaming is louder now. Dean can see billowing, black smoke in the distance.
Jo is staring at Dean with a grave expression on her face, which is mirrored by her mother’s, and Bobby’s eyes are carefully assessing the scene in the same way John’s are.
“Dad,” Dean asks, “what’s happening?”
John turns to him and gives a sharp nod, as if deciding Dean is well old enough to know. “It’s the Highlands, and the Officials. They’re taking out the regions. Invading them, one by one.”
Dean stares, dread running through him, and feels a tug on his sleeve, but doesn’t turn to Sam just yet.
“We’ve got to get out of here, boy,” Bobby says. “Gotta get you all somewhere safe.”
“Where are we going?” Jo asks in a quiet voice.
“To the next region, ten miles away, East. No matter what, you make sure you three get there, you understand?” John says.
Dean nods mutely and Sam tugs on his sleeve harder this time and Dean turns to see Sam giving him a pointed look. He wonders if he knows enough signs to truly get across the horror the situation.
We’re leaving, he says, hands quick and movements sharp, all of us. Leaving the Region.
“Explain quickly, Dean, and then we’re leaving,” John says, sliding his gun into its leather holster.
Sam is staring at Dean with wide, frightened eyes, and Dean rushes to continue, Region is under attack. Highlands and Officials. Have to run, find safety. Now.
Why attack? Sam asks, hands a blur in the air.
“Lets go now, boys,” John says, and they start heading down towards the village.
“Why are they doing this?” Dean asks, keeping Sammy close by the grip on his sleeve.
“There’s been unrest for a couple of weeks now,” Ellen says, walking beside Jo. “Massacres in the Regions outside the Highlands. Nobody knows how many were killed. Then they started evacuating the people in the regions closest to the Outerlands, taking their farms and children.”
“Their children?” Dean asks, throat feeling like it’s gone completely dry. The words feel heavy on his tongue. “The Officials have been taking children? What for?”
“An army,” John says, and it’s enough to send them all into a heavy silence. They go into the alleyway to Rufus’, having avoided the main marketplace, and take it in pairs running towards the heavy vegetation that leads to the chalky path, and Dean tugs Sam along, never losing his grip on him.
Once they’re walking down it Sam says, “Dean,” and it’s enough to startle him to look back at Sam.
“You okay?” he asks, and Sam shrugs a little and asks, Why under attack? Where we going?
I promise I will explain. Later.
“You watch out for Sammy,” John says, and Dean replies without missing a beat that he will, that he always does.
“You look after my daughter, too. You hear me?”
“Yes, Ellen,” Dean says, with completely sincerity. “I will.”
Dean pulls Sam farther along and then there’s the sound of yelling, and a gunshot, as two men in black run towards them.
“Run!” John shouts, and Dean goes for a full-on sprint, making sure Sam is running beside him. Dean leads them towards the trickling stream, and turns to see only Sammy, Jo, and Ellen are with them.
“Go, Dean,” Ellen says, tone strong and spoken hastily, and Dean leaps over the stream, the others following closely behind. He runs towards the dusty clearing, now softer beneath his feet due to the rain, and wastes no time bending down into a crouch, and leans his ear next to the fence. No buzz. He pulls a blade of grass from the ground and it holds it against the metal, just to be sure, and is thankful when there’s nothing.
“It’s okay,” he says, signing as he does, and starts climbing up it, Sam hot on his tail. There’s the sound of more shouting, closer now, and Dean picks up the pace, helps pull Sam over and hurries Jo along.
Ellen is still at the bottom on the other side, and Jo is climbing over the top, when John and Bobby come running into view followed by three Officials waving their weapons.
“Go!” John bellows, and Dean jumps off the fence, pulls Sam down and reaches his hand up for Jo to grab and pulls her down, too. Ellen is starting to scale the fence when an Official jumps towards her and pulls her back.
Dean, Sam and Jo stand on the other side, frozen, and Bobby hits the Official with the butt of his own gun, sending him tumbling to the floor, while John fights the two other ones.
“Go! Now!” Ellen shouts to them, and Dean starts running, pulling Sam along, and grabs Jo’s arm with his free hand, tugging her forwards.
“Come on, Jo,” he says, and after a hesitant moment Jo follows, following them into the depths of the woods. They don’t stop running until they’ve reached the stones where the weapons are hidden, and they grab them all.
Dean’s adrenaline is running high, breathing heavy in the damp air and eyes and ears alert for any sudden movement of sound. A loud gunshot rings out in the distance, making the air vibrate around them, and Jo moves from one foot to the other, uneasy.
“Gunshot?” Sam asks, eyes fearful, and Dean gives him a weak smile and nod.
“What are we going to do now?” Jo asks, voice quiet.
“We’re going to wait. For a little while.” Dean’s hands make the signs as he speaks, feeling like it’s second-nature now. “If they don’t come soon we’re leaving.”
Jo turns to look at him, a heavy frown on her face. “I’m not leaving her. She’s family.”
“If they don’t catch up, you’re going to have to. We’re all going to have to leave our family.” Dean is quiet, and doesn’t sign the last sentence, can’t bring himself to, but thankful that he has Sam. Without question or doubt, if it was Sam left on the other side of the fence, he wouldn’t have left in the first place. And he would always, always, go back for Sam.
They stand anxiously in the middle of the woods, eyes in the direction they came from, listening to the sounds of screaming and gunshots. Dean watches Sam’s face, and they wait. They keep waiting until Dean can’t take it any longer.
“We need to leave,” Dean says, looking in the direction of the fence. The shouting still hasn’t quieted and the sound of a firing gun still shakes across the trees every few minutes.
“Let’s just... go to the fence. One more time,” Jo pleads. “Once more. Please.”
Dean thinks about the idea quickly, knows it’s dangerous, but needs to allow Jo this one thing.
“We’ll go to the nearest stretch of fence and listen for danger. If there’s nothing, we’ll follow along the fence until we reach the place we jumped over. Any sign of danger and we’re running and heading towards the next Region.”
Jo nods in assent, and Dean turns to Sam and says, Going to fence. Very quickly. Any sign of danger and we’re running. Got that?
I understand, Sam replies quickly, and they start heading towards the nearest sign of the fence at a slow jog. As they get closer they see flashes of color in the trees, and they duck down and hide each time. But every time the movement is running away from them, heading into the depths of the woods, and Dean knows they’re refugees, just like them.
They pick up the pace and head towards the fence, which is now just a few meters ahead of them. They’re only a few inches away when there’s a scream in the distance and the sound of sizzling, and colorful sparks and smoke flies into the air. Dean takes a quick step backward, pulling Jo and Sam with him.
“Electricity has been turned on!” he shouts, and the three of them run back into the woods, the sound of banging and screams following them as they go. They don’t stop until they’ve reached the lake, and they all stop, out-of-breath and clutching their sides.
Dean pulls Sam towards him and looks him over from head to foot and back up again to check for injuries.
“You okay?” he asks and Sam leans against a tree, catching his breath
“Yeah. You?” he asks.
I’m okay, Dean signs in reply. He turns to Jo and sees her eyes are red, decides not to make her talk about it, and instead gently pulls her forward and wraps an arm around her.
“It’s okay. She’s okay,” he says, and Jo nods, biting her lip. “They’re all okay.”
Sam comes forward and leans against Dean’s other side. They stand there for a few minutes that feel immeasurably long, waiting as their breathing goes back to normal and trying to ignore the faint hum of screaming and shouting and banging in the distance.
It’s as if standing there reveals a new responsibility falling upon Dean’s shoulders. He’s the carer, has been for as long as he remembers, and not only will he look out for Sam but now he has Jo to keep safe, too. It’s knowing that he must stay strong for them that allows him to keep a brave face, to not crumble under the fears and uncertainties that are plaguing his mind. He sees another blur of color in the distance, and knows they must move.
“Come on,” he says, voice surprisingly steady. “We’ve got to keep moving.”
Jo moves away from him and wipes a hand under his eyes, and Sam adjusts the strap on his bag before piercing Dean with a concerned stare.
Where are we going, Dean? he asks, eyes bright with a fear that makes Dean’s insides churn.
Signing as he speaks, he says, “The next Region. Nine miles east.”
They start walking a steady pace towards the hope of safety, Dean trying his best to mute the sounds of the screaming and dying. He remembers what his father told him about what the armies wanted, who they were after, and pulls Sam a little bit closer.
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