Hello, this is my first story and I don't have a beta, so please don't flame me too hard! This was going to be a longer story but then decided it was better as it was. Its set pre-season one and before Sam left for college, lets say two years before. Please review and let me know if I should pack this fanfiction writing thing in before I get properly started. Thanks.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters from it, I am only borrowing them.

Towards the Light by Lakariana

Their feet pounded down the corridor, the damp concrete unforgiving under them. "Towards the light, find Dean, get out safe. Towards the light, find dean, get out safe. Towards the..." The repeated mantra ran through Sam's head in time with his and his fathers feet as they ran through the basement of Sodara Inc.'s chief warehouse, once a company producing some random stationary and now the home to band of so called demon hunters, but these guys were nothing like the hunters Sam had grown up knowing.

The life of a demon hunter was never going to be an easy or profitable undertaking and after a few years these guys had started to feel the strain, had started to wonder why they were struggling quite so hard when they were doing such "good" work, and how long would they have to wait for their rewards. The lines drawn between them and those they hunted became blurred with each "I deserve", each "they don't deserve as much as me". Until, they had become as selfish and cruel as the demons they once hunted. Now they were more like poachers catching only what would help them gain a profit, what they could harvest and sell to dark magic stores and black market auctions. Sam's father had heard from a source that these guys may have weapons capable of killing any demon in this world and also had ways of tracking down supernatural beings, and had immediately set out to meet them. The boys hadn't seen their father this animated in months and were so swept up in his enthusiasm they had ignored the rumours about the darker side of these fellow hunters. Even after meeting them they ignored there own feelings to support their father. "This is the first concrete lead dad's had in ages" Dean had whispered to Sam, when he'd tried to voice his uneasy feelings, " So what if they're a bit rough and messy."

But the true situation had quickly become apparent, there were no powerful weapons only a disregard for any human hosts or casualties that insured the demon was always destroyed no mater the consequences. Sam and his father had been shown into the "exorcism room", a stark concrete box with a wooden table with shackles and various glyphs and symbols on the walls. A video camera was set up in one corner where proof of the demon possession and exorcism was recorded in order to draw out the most money as possible from any loving relatives. Disgusted Sam could almost feel the pain and suffering that had taken place in this room crawling up his arms and stifling his breath. Glancing at his father he had seen a look of dawning horror and then disappointment, that had almost been as frightening as the room itself, cross over his face. Before he could say anything however the lead hunter had given a barking laugh. " Yeah." He stated a cruel smile slashing his face, "Most of time they aren't even possessed! But after a bit of a light and smoke show the rellies will swallow anything you tell em! But, when they are, this crap." He gestured at the symbols on the walls, " Keeps the demons trapped long enough to make an impression, spray blood and break things you know how it goes." At this point he winked as if sharing a inside joke and John snapped. Suddenly the hunter was on the floor John's boot connecting with his head. "Come on Sam!" he barked turning with out a back ward glance. He grabbed a still stunned Sam and spun him round out of the room slamming the door shut behind him.

"We're getting your brother and getting out of here right now, then we're calling the police and letting them deal with this hell hole. God damn it I knew I shouldn't have let them separate us." Dean had been led away by another member of the "hunters" with the promise of a gun store and practice range. " we'll head back towards the car and start there". But the Lead "hunter" hadn't been as out as he had seemed and as they moved away they could hear him banging on the door and swearing. The noise brought a couple gang members and Sam and his father had to dive in to a side room in order to avoid a confrontation.

"OK, I think there were five of them we'll surprise these two as they go past us and then the last two must be with your brother." But Sam wasn't listening to his father, instead staring around the room. "err...Dad I think we found their 'weapons' room." He mumbled. On the walls were shelves Sam had only seen in voodoo stores and witch doctor lairs he had seen his father take down. Bones and bits of animals hung among displays of knives, strange plants pickled with what looked like bullet casings, but what had stolen Sam's voice was the body of a young boy, surely only 7 or 8 still chained inside a box although long dead, two small horns were visible poking through his soft mop of blonde hair. Sam took a careful step forward noticing a plastic tube winding down the child's arm, but John put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "They were taking his blood." He whispered, "He's cuckold son, he has cursed blood. They must have accidentally taken too much. Come on we need to go."

The two in the corridor were easier to dispatch than Sam had thought they would be, or maybe the sight of that young boy in the box had given father and son the energy they needed to overcome their heartless foes. Now they were jogging down a long basement corridor trying to find his brother and the way out, a vague spot of light the only clue that the end was near. "Towards the Light, find Dean, get out safe, towards the light, find Dean, get out safe," thump, thump, thump of feet against the floor, this corridor hadn't seemed so long when the leader had shown them down it and where was Dean? Suddenly a large humped figure turned a corner into the corridor. The light was dim and patchy and Sam and his father slowed trying to make out the figure. Hearing them behind it it turned and suddenly Sam sped up again recognising the tired face of his brother.

"Dad! Sam! Thank god! these guys a psychos!"

"I know", Sam panted finally reaching him, "you should have seen this room where-"

"Later." John commanded "Who is that?" He gestured to the form Dean was carrying over his shoulder.

"Oh!" Dean said turning so they could see the figure better, "I found her in a room near the armoury they had her chained up and..." His voice faded out before he finished. John looked up to see an expression of anguish on his son's face. Before he could ask what was wrong Sam had moved closer to her and let out a cry. "Oh God!" Deans face seemed to crumple slightly, "They cut off her hands!" John placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and pulled him away from his brother's burden, as he turned his youngest away from the gruesome sight he took a look himself. He couldn't see her face as she was slung over Dean's shoulder in a fireman's carry, but her long dark hair flowed down his back, she was slim and wore a simple grey dress, and John somehow felt that she must be beautiful. The feeling however was hard to understand as he stared at the dark red brown stains that marred the back of his son's jacket, flowing down from the stumps that were left of her wrists.

"Well they aren't going to do anything else to her." Dean said adjusting his hold of her, his face hardening again into the cold calm soldier John had trained. "They are never going to touch her again." and John didn't have any doubts that that was true.

End