I still don't own Supernatural or any part of it.

Vengeance

Chapter 1

Sam heaved a large sigh; equal parts of frustration, exhaustion and fear coursing through him as he snapped the screen of his laptop shut. Why couldn't he find anything to help Dean? He had promised to save him and now, 3 weeks after the gates to Hell had been opened up, he still had nothing to go on to help him break his brother's deal with the crossroads demon.

Anger pushed his exhaustion and fear away at that thought. Dean had no right to make that deal! To sell his own soul! He groused out a humourless laugh, And to think he used to call me a selfish bastard

Sam scrubbed a large hand wearily over his tired eyes attempting to banish his anger, to control his feelings. Ever since they had arrived at Bobby's to regroup and prepare for the oncoming war he had been struggling to keep his emotions in check; he would snap at the slightest comment and Dean's arrogant bravado about his impending doom did nothing to alleviate Sam's constant anxiety, even Bobby seemed nonchalant about Dean's fate. Everyone was focussed on the war except Sam-all he could think of was the deal and how to break it. He had even given up pondering everything the Yellow-Eyed Demon had shown him although he still had nightmares about it, the implications of the demon blood…did it make him part demon? What if-

Soft footfalls outside the door to the kitchen dragged him back from his dark reverie. He knew it was Dean without looking up.

"I'm fine" he lied wearily before Dean could even ask.

"Dammit Sam you're not-" Dean began angrily before taking a deep calming breath. It seemed he too was edgy and highly strung. He continued more softly, "Sammy…talk to me man, you've been holed up in here for weeks now. This has to stop."

Sam closed his eyes against the pleading quality to Dean's voice, the desperation behind the simple words hurting him to the core. God he hated the estranged quality their relationship had taken on! He looked up and met his brother's concerned gaze as he seated himself at the opposite end of the small table, wanting to talk to Dean, needing to talk to him, but unsure of how much he could say before Dean would clam up.

Dean took in his brother's hunched form as he sat down, wiping grubby hands on his jeans. He could see the inner conflict within Sam and patiently waited for him to open up. A small smirk flitted across Dean's tanned face, I can't believe I initiated a chick-flick moment, he shuddered at himself.

"Dean, I'm just trying to fix this okay, I'm trying to put everything right. I'm alright, really." Sam said quietly. Dean shook his head as he clenched his jaw, unable to believe how tenacious Sam was.

"Leave it alone Sam. It was my choice." He replied tersely. His tone brooked no argument but, of course, Sam ploughed on anyway.

"Dean! Please, come on, you just have to tell me exactly what the demon said…maybe I can find a way to-"

"This isn't law school Sam. Leave-It-Alone." Dean growled and rose to exit the kitchen.

Sam's own anger flared in response, "No! Dean we're not done yet! When are you gonna talk about this? What gives you the right to decide my life is worth more than yours-" he yelled, rising and following his sibling outside.

Dean spun round to face Sam stating simply, "It is. End of."

Sam took a deep breath to control the anger roiling through him as Dean turned and began walking hastily to the junkyard to escape. Sam's angry voice was still following.

"No! It isn't and you don't get to decide if I fix thi-"

"Leave it alone! She'll just take you too Sammy!" Dean struggled to repress the tears brimming in his eyes, ever desperate to save Sam, the memory of his failure still too fresh. He whispered his next words, "Don't betray me."

His unusual display of emotion did little to stem Sam's growing anger, "Don't blackmail me! Dammit! Did you ever think about me in this! I don't want this!"

Dean flinched back from Sam's booming voice, his own still soft as he said, "I can't change that now Sammy and I'm sorry but I did it for you."

Sam jutted his jaw out obstinately, "I can!". Dean shrugged and turned away only to have Sam grab his upper arm and spin him round. "Don't you do this!" Dean shoved Sam hard and he stumbled back a few paces to watch his brother's broad back retreating into the junkyard.

"Fine! Walk away from this, just like all your other problems!" he yelled after him, long arms flapping in exasperation.

Dean turned and closed the distance between them in a few strides and Sam could see the flinty anger in his brother's hazel eyes, knowing he had pushed too far this time.

"Walk away?!" he said incredulously. Dean was quivering with suppressed rage as he pointed a finger to Sam's chest and said accusingly, "No, that's your job."

The instant he had said it Dean regretted his harsh words as he watched all the colour drain from Sam's face. He bit his lip in frustration, wondering how he had let himself lose control like that and, unable to look at Sam's stricken face any longer, he stormed off to work on one of Bobby's old pick-up's, cursing himself with every step. He felt even more of a tool when Sam called after him in a defeated, hurt voice, "You're right. But I won't walk away from this Dean. Not from you."

Sam felt a renewed determination surge through him as he voiced his promise to Dean even though he was guilty as hell about Dean's last statement. Now it was anger at himself that he struggled with as he trudged back over the threshold.

He didn't mean to seem ungrateful but Dean was so intent on saving him that he wouldn't realise-couldn't realise-that it was slowly killing Sam to know he had sacrificed his life. How could he expect Sam to say 'thanks' and be happy that he was gonna lose his brother! Always with the double standards...

Another surge of guilt flooded him and Sam paused by the front door to take a few breaths and compose himself. His emotions were threatening to overwhelm him and he didn't know how to stop it as he sank, sobbing, to his knees, holding at the door frame for support. He stiffened as a soft pressure on his shoulder announced Bobby's appearance.

"What is it son?" he asked gently, his craggy face pulled into a picture of compassion.

Sam took a shaky breath and looked up with a sad smile, "Everything" he whispered.

Bobby squeezed the youngest Winchester's shoulder, knowing no words could ease his pain. He hated seeing John's boys suffer like this, after all they'd been through…

"You boy's have a fight?" he asked, knowing full well that they had but knowing also that Sam would probably need to talk about it.

"Yeh," came the soft reply, "I didn't mean to get angry at him but…he won't talk to me Bobby, he won't understand that I have to save him."

"He knows Sam, that's why he got angry too-doesn't want you do anything to save him that might endanger yourself." Bobby replied sagely. "He knows how you feel Sam, believe me! You should have seen him after you…after you…well let's just say he couldn't handle it, you not being with him. He needs you Sam. He'll come around. Just his way is all."

Sam sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, "I know. Thanks Bobby."

Bobby grumbled something indistinct in reply and helped Sam to his feet, clearly uncomfortable. He scratched his scruffy beard and shifted the ever-present hat over his head awkwardly, mumbling something about going to get a drink. Sam followed him inside quickly.

"Hey Bobby? You think I could borrow a truck?" There was glint in Sam's brown eyes that did not go unnoticed by the seasoned hunter.

"Yeh, why?" he asked warily, as he chucked over a set of keys.

Sam smiled, "You'll see".

"Alright. See you soon." He said, secretly not caring why Sam wanted to borrow a car after he had smiled properly for the first time in days.

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Indiana State Prison, 2 weeks ago

"Walker, you got a visitor. Let's move."

Gordon Walker looked up from his card game as the portly officer grabbed his upper arm and began shoving him down a hallway. He scowled and shrugged the officer's grip off to swagger ahead to the visitor's room where he scanned the booths for a familiar face. He raised an eyebrow when the officer's droll voice spoke from behind him and pointed him in the right direction.

"Number 7...a Miss Wandell to see you."

Wandell…Steve's daughter?! Gordon's eyebrows shot higher as he seated himself before the reinforced window and picked up the receiver, eyeing the youth before him. She had her father's eyes-dark blue eyes- and chestnut hair to her shoulders.

"Gordon Walker?" she asked tentatively.

"That's me." He affirmed cautiously, still taking her in. Why was she here?

"You knew my father, Steve Wandell, didn't you?"

"I did…" Gordon replied slowly, dread settling in the pit of his stomach, something must have happened to him if she was here, " Did he send you?"

The girl shook her head and dropped her eyes to the floor. When she looked up next they were teary but her voice was cold and angry. "He was murdered a few months ago." She waited for the news to sink in before continuing, "I've been trying to track down anything on who my have done it b-"

"Who?" Gordon interrupted, dark eyes widening as thoughts tumbled through his brain, one echoing louder than the rest…Winchester!

"Yeh, his security tape was missing and I figured a demon wouldn't care much if it got caught so I did some tracking down and asked around at the Roadhouse and heard that it might be down to some guy called Sam Winchester-he's a-"

"Psychic working for the other side. I know him." Gordon said darkly. He became lost in angry thoughts about the savage traitor and pounded his fist on the table top. Portly looked over and Gordon calmed himself.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Wandell's face was grim and set as she met his gaze, her own eyes holding a darkness of their own as she growled out, "I want your help."

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Hope you all like it so far-please let me know what you think. I will try to post an update soon. Thanks for reading xx