This story is a spin off from my story Dean's journal 3 Silence-chapter 28

You don't have to have read that story to follow this one.

Warnings: This story has some mild adult content. Rated for light swearing.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural related. Most towns and other people are made up, any similarity to the living or dead are purely coincidental.

Any real towns, places or companies used are strictly for reference purposes only.

Setting: Dean is fourteen and Sam ten so pre series.

Story outline: Dean is captured in Mexico by a sheriff who has his own brand of Justice. Sam, John, Bobby and Pastor Jim work to get him freed.

Thanks to SeaKat for the wonderful and fast beta job. All mistakes are mine.

Memories

From chapter 28

"Dad must have told Bobby about that Chupacabra we chased into Mexico. Haven't thought of that in ages," Dean said.
"Mexico?"
"Yeah, I was fourteen; I think. You stayed with Pastor Jim in California. He had come down to see Dad and we went off to chase down the Chupacabra Dad had been tracking. We had these huge radios, I remember…"
Sam nodded his head encouraging Dean to go on.

Dean laughed caught up in the memory. "Anyway, Dad took the Impala and sat just over the Texas border, just northwest of El Paso if I remember correctly, and I was just in New Mexico on foot tracking the thing down to the south. We were trying to push it south and Dad was sure it was going to turn back once it got close to the border but I said no way the thing didn't care about borders it was going over. Guess who was right?"
"So what happened when it went into Mexico?" Sam was intrigued with the story.
"I chased it into Mexico and finally ganked it two miles over the border. It's not like I had too much choice, Dad yelling at me through the radio and I was dressed in jeans and a hunting jacket with a machete hanging off my hip. As well as the rifle and handgun I had... If I had been caught I was in big trouble."

Sam paled at yet another situation their Dad had put his brother in that he may never have seen him again, he couldn't imagine loosing Dean when he was ten. He was his hero back then as he was now, it would have shattered him he was sure, and he hadn't even known about it. "God it sounds like a Marty Robbins song."
"Ha! That's hilarious!" Dean gave Sam a soft punch in the shoulder and Sam grinned.
This story about what might have happened if Dean had been caught.

Chapter 1 Caught

Dean Winchester ran as fast as he could hot on the heels of the Chupacabra. He not only had the beast to contend with but dog traps every few feet. It seemed they were having problems over the border with the animal as well and had been laying traps to try to get rid of it. The only thing was it was more than a mere dog and quite capable of dodging the traps. Dean on the other hand had to concentrate hard to avoid the traps as there was not much moonlight and the traps were dug in here and there. His boots ground into the loose sand as he pushed off and made himself run even faster. Dean had been trained by his father to run so that he wouldn't have sand and dust flying around his feet. He produced only small puffs as he ran over a crest with out slowing or breathing hard. It was times like this he was thankful for the miles his dad made him run every day. He had run at least fifteen miles tonight and he knew a 'normal' fourteen year old would be on the ground if they had tried to run that distance.

He dodged another trap and jumped a hole coming down hard but continuing on just as fast. He bet his dad was sitting on his ass waiting for him like this was a piece of cake. Dean was glad he had turned off the radio he had with him so he didn't have his Dad yelling at him to run faster. Dean had switched it off when he had run behind a gas station. It looked deserted but you never knew out here and Dean defiantly didn't know the area enough to trust it. It would be very bad to be caught in Mexico with the weapons he had. Dean heard an approaching vehicle and cocked his ear as he ran. A pick up: early seventies by the sound. Light suddenly splashed twenty feet in front of him and he ducked behind a bush and crouched down. He shut his eyes so he would be able to see when they left and listened hard. He heard voices speaking rapid Spanish and thought he recognized perro being said several times. His Spanish wasn't great but he was pretty sure that was dog. The lights and voices moved off quickly. Dean opened his eyes and stood as soon as he gauged they were far enough away. He looked to were he last saw the beast and could see the outline of it as it ran away from where the vehicle went.

Dean took off in a dead run after the creature and found it was hesitating. Dean knew it smelled the men that had laid the traps and those that had just been to check them. Dean kept the chase up for another mile and a half at which point the Chupacabra went to ground. Dean searched for what had spooked the creature and noticed a shack a hundred feet away. The traps here were more frequent and Dean knew he was probably in the beast's main hunting ground. Dean spotted the animal through his rifle's sight but as he was about to fire a door banged open on the shack and the creature startled violently, running straight at him. Dean took a reflex step back as he fired at the charging beast. The creature went down but Dean's left ankle was swamped in a sudden burst of sharp pain. He almost cried out as he went down on one knee and saw his ankle was struck in a dog trap. His teeth clamped his bottom lip as he worked to hold the pain at bay.

Dean blinked away tortured tears as he bent and used a hand on either side of the trap to pull it open. It's coils were strong and tightly wound and it took Dean three tries to pull his foot free. Dean managed to look up and see the dog was down so he hobbled three steps and pulled out his machete cutting its head off cleanly. Dean was about to gather the corpse when a man came out of the shack was speaking loud Spanish. A truck started up and Dean took off in the other direction hopping along on one leg. The trucks lights closed on him quickly and Dean headed for the only cover he could see, a weak low shrub. The truck moved closer so he decided to lose the radio, handgun and rifle just in case. He shoved them under the undergrowth of the shrub bumping his foot and making him groan as he pushed up and hobbled on hurriedly. Dean foot throbbed painfully and he could feel the blood squelching in his boot as he hopped as fast as he could but the truck was suddenly in front of him and two men jumped out aiming shotguns at him. One was short and thin the other heavy set and fairly tall.

Dean put his hands up and the guys came over and relived him off his machete, speaking Spanish and shoving him. Dean told them in clear English that he got lost chasing a dog away from his grandma's chickens. Totally believable. To Dean's surprise the heavy set guy produced a pair of handcuffs and cuffed Dean's hands behind his back. The heavy set guy then pushed Dean into the back of the truck not caring that he could hardly walk and he was protesting his innocence. Dean had a bad feeling as he lay in the back of the truck with the taller guy who had a handgun trained on him. The only good thing was that his foot was getting a rest. Dean could see blood drenching his leg and boot. Dean had a fleeting thought of Sam and that he didn't even know Dean wasn't in the country. Dean had been adamant he wanted Sam told but John did not want him told and as per usual: John had won. As far as Sam knew, it was a 'normal' hunt. Even though Sam was only ten, he would have his ass if he didn't get back soon. Dean always had to promise Sam that he would come home from a hunt with John and this would be no different even though the circumstances were slightly different than normal.

The truck stopped just a few minutes later and Dean was lifted from the back and dragged inside. It took a few moments to recognize the lowly lit dwelling was the police station/jailhouse of the local area. It was very small with only two desks in the front section and a small interview room. Dean was dragged through one of three doors off the main room to a short hallway and pushed into an empty cell. The cell was so small Dean thought it must have been a joke. The floor was rough concrete and the walls were all rough handmade brick. There were no windows and the slightly rusty bars to the cell showed there was only three other cells just as small.

Dean saw a hole in the floor at the corner for a toilet and that's all there was. No sink, no bed, no chair, nothing. Dean sighed as the men left him slouching against the wall.
"Hey, I could use a little first aid here."
Heavy set looked back at Dean with a confused frown. Dean held up his dripping foot.
"Injured, need a bandage. Or a hospital?"
The man laughed at Dean as he turned and walked back through the door. Dean sighed again and pondered his escape.

TBC