Dean sat atop the desk that was shrouded in papers and file folders. Looking intently at the young man in front of him, he simply starred at him, green eyes penetrating down to the younger man's soul. The younger man squirmed in his seat a little and averted his eyes from Dean's penetrating gaze.

"That right there will get you killed."

"What?" The boy sitting slouched in front of Dean asked.

"Not being able to look what scares you in the eye. That will get you killed."

"I'm sorry…"

"There isn't time for you to be sorry. There is only time for action, there is only a second between your death and your life." Dean quieted and starred at the boy again. This time the younger man held his gaze, tried to keep it, fought to keep it, and he did, but the gaze that was returned to Dean was timid and wavering.

"Why are you here?"

"What?" he asked.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm here because I want to help people."

"Become a social worker."

"I want to save people's lives."

"Become a doctor."

"I want this."

"Why do you want this life? What about this life seems so glamorous to you? The slogging through slop? The crawling through sewers? Having your hands tied above your head until you just wish someone would cut them off? Why this life?"

"I…"

"Why?"

"I…I.."

"Don't stutter. Answer me boy."

"Because I can't stand to know that there are things out there in the dark that kill people and do nothing. I know they are out there. They killed my sister. I need to be able to do something about it."

"So you just want simple revenge is that it?" Dean asked and leaned forward, purposefully using his height and bulk as a way of intimidating the younger thinner man, and he did exactly what he expected him to, he sat back in the seat.

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess?" Dean asked low in his throat. "You guess that's the reason you want to risk your life for this job?" Dean stood up and began to slowly pace the room. "I get revenge. My mom died because of this stuff, but there has to be more or you won't survive. Revenge is all good but that won't keep your ass from becoming fertilizer."

"I can't let other people die like that." The boy was shaking.

"I don't know kid. I don't know if you have the stones for this job. I'll consider it. Get out. I'll let you know." The boy didn't move and Dean said a little louder with more command in his voice. "Do you need a hearing test? I said get out." The boy jumped up and hurried out of the door, Sam entered just as the boy was leaving.

"Scare another one?"

"He's not for this life."

"How did you determine that one? Show him your scars and he puked? Or…."

"He's just not ready for this life Sam."

"You've been saying that a lot lately to a lot of people Dean."

"It's not like we get paid by the person."

"We need people."

"We don't need meat."

"Dean…."

"Sam. Just go. I don't want to have this conversation with you right now. If you want to do this job you most certainly can." Sam stiffened.

"I just wanted to let you know that I think Kayla is ready for field training."

"Okay whatever. The girl still flinches whenever she holds a gun. She shouldn't be here."

"She has potential Dean." Sam said clenching his fists.

"Just because she is one of the kids that yellow eyes visited doesn't mean…"

"She will not end up like me Dean!" Sam shouted. "Will not. We will not let her become this." He said indicating his shaking form. "No one will ever end up like this again. She is ready for her field training." Sam said and turned from his brother.

Almost an hour ago Sam had left the main building headed for the miles of trails that snaked through the woods surrounding the compound. He'd needed to clear his head and this was the best way he'd found to do it. Running wasn't elegant or cerebral but it got the job done. Just him and the trail. Pushing himself to that place where feeling the demands on his body, his heart pounding, his lungs burning, his muscles staining, was all he could focus on. The repetitive slap as his feet pounding the ground, lulling him into a numbness where he couldn't think beyond his next step; couldn't think of anything outside his own body.

His iPod droned in his ears and with nothing else to focus on he found himself listening to the lyrics of the song.

Now the dark begins to rise
Save your breath, it's far from over
Leave the lost and dead behind
Now's your chance to run for cover

It was with a certain sense of irony that a smile ghosted crossed Sam's panting lips. He was usually out here for one of two reasons. Today it was because of what had happened with his brother in Dean's office. They seemed to be butting heads a lot lately.

But more often than not if he was running it was because he was trying to outdistance his weaknesses. Trying to outrun the addiction that had nearly killed him, and consequently every other human on the planet. Most days he could live with himself and the guilt he carried because he knew what a tight leash he now kept himself on. However, there were days when the scorching need that was a constant part of him would flare up white hot and burn away at his ability to control it. On those days he ran like the armies of hell were after him; because, quite literally, they were.

I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away

As he crested the hill the tree line broke to his right, and he looked down into the valley. The meadow below rolled every so gently towards a small stream. The breeze softly dancing across the long grasses swirling them in mesmerizing waving patterns. It looked peaceful and beautiful, and Sam avoided the place like the plague because cutting through the middle of it was a set of iron railroad tracks.

Sam quickened his pace, taking himself around the bend in the path and away from the sight of those dark lines scaring across an otherwise idyllic setting. Actually seeing the tracks meant he was way to close to them for comfort. After almost four years at the compound seeing the lines still effected him. Without fail, the muscles across his chest snapped tight, especially the one thundering his blood though his veins. He ran a couple hundred more yards down the path before the tension finally started to ease.

He and Dean had first arrived on a miserably rainy day in November of 2011. Well, that wasn't quite true. The first time they'd been here was back in 2007, but that had been for a different matter. They'd been taking care of some family business; stopping yellow eyes. Sam felt his lower back muscles cramp at the thought. They'd been here in 2007, but 2011 was when they'd moved into the compound. It was also the last time Sam had been across the repaired iron lines of Colt's giant devils trap.

This self imposed exile from the rest of the world was one of the ways he tried to control this thing that was inside of him. The demons were out there on the other side of those rail lines. That meant that the demon blood was also out there. As long as the demons were out there and Sam was in here it removed the temptation. That's not to say it removed the urge, but at least he didn't feel like he was swimming in it.

Hell, lets be honest he wasn't swimming in it. It was more like drowning. The years he'd spent on the outside after the addiction had started were some of the most miserable of his life, and that was saying something; considering he'd had a pretty miserable life.

It had seemed like an infinite army of evil. Some of them made no pretense about tempting him. They delighted in cutting themselves just so he could see their blood flow. Teasing him to take just a little taste. Even the ones who weren't actively taunting him were still walking, talking temptations. Out there it had been all about his will power. He either kept clean or broke based on nothing more than his force of will.

Sure Dean had tried to help. His brother had watched over him as best he could, but Sam couldn't shake the family mantra that had been drilled into him since he was old enough to know what the real family business was. As a Winchesters you did what you had to do, and you didn't whine about it. He knew he was responsible for his own actions, but it was one huge weight to carry when it seemed that every day he was pushed to do the thing that he'd sworn never to do again.

That's why moving here, at the time, had felt like a sanctuary for him.

And I'll survive; paranoid
I have lost the will to change
And I'm not proud, cold-blooded fate
I will shut the world away

It had been a lot to get used to when they'd first come here. Sam's whole life had pretty much been lived on the road. Never staying anyplace for long. Never having roots, or a place that felt like home. His years at Stanford had been the closest thing he'd known to a normal life.

He'd thought that having this place, an honest to god home, would be everything he wanted. Most days it was. He'd developed routines at the school; classes, training, research. He tried to say busy and focused. Totally believing what they said about idle hands. He needed the purpose that he found here because he couldn't be out there on the front lines fighting anymore. He couldn't take the chance that he'd slip.

Even with the margin of normalcy and safety he'd found here Sam never completely relaxed. Not ever! His control had to be absolute, as strong as the iron lines that surrounded the compound. One moment of weakness could hurl him back down that dark road. Make him into something, someone, he couldn't survive being again. The demons had tried. Given it their best shot. After he'd killed Lilith they'd teased and tempted him with their blood every chance they got, until he thought he'd go insane.

Once he'd come here the torment hadn't stopped, it had only changed. He'd been so long without the blood that part of him felt like a dried up sponge. If a demon came within a few miles of the outside of the barrier Sam could feel their presence. It wasn't like being psychic, he couldn't read their thoughts. He could just sense they were there. Like that repulsive part of him was stretching out, evil seeking evil.

The blinding headaches, gut twisting nausea, and sapping weakness that was part of his demon radar was something he'd learned to live with. He wasn't some guilt-ridden masochist who thought this was penance for the things he'd done. It was just the hand he'd been dealt and he'd play it the only way he knew how, with his head high, a stiff upper lip, and most importantly, always on guard.

Sam had just passed where two of the trails crossed when that unexplainable 6th sense that kept most hunters alive cause the hair to rise on the back of his neck. He'd been lost in thought, not focusing on what was around him, but his razor sharp instinct had still picked up on something. Something was behind him and it was closing the distance fast.

His brain ticked off the possible list of what could be behind him. Demon was out, he wasn't suffering any of his usual side effects. The sun was still up so it wasn't a werewolf, and probably not a wendigo or vampire. Ghosts didn't make noise then they moved, and all the bodies in the old cowboy cemetery had been salted-n-burned for good measure so it probably wasn't a draugr. Bipedal gate ruled out chupacabras and gulons. Could be a shape-shifter or a zombie.

Sam readied his body for the fight. Waiting until whatever it was came just a little closer. It was fast, but not super-human. Fast usually equaled lite and that probably meant it was smaller than him. Which was a good thing considering this was going to be hand-to-hand combat, as Sam hadn't thought to arm himself when he'd left on this run.

He waited till the last moment and then in one smooth lightening fast move he ducked and spun around. Instinctively he grabbed the arm he saw reaching for him, and using momentum and surprise he pulled the person past him. Still holding the arm, Sam twisted it behind his opponents back as he kicked out with his right leg, tripping him. It wasn't until Sam had his knee driven in to the smaller mans back, pinning him to the ground, that he realized who it was.

"Damn it Justin! Are you trying to get yourself killed? I could have snapped your fool neck, or had a knife and gutted you before you even knew what I was doing. Never run up on another hunter like that. Do you hear me."

Sam waited for the young man to say something but all he did was nod his head. It was then that Sam realized he'd knocked the air out of the kid and was still pinning him to the ground hard enough that he couldn't draw breath.

Sam quickly rose to his feet and watched as Justin rolled over, coughing and trying to catch his breath. The kid was new. He'd only been at the school for about 3 months, so Sam felt a little bad for roughing him up. But this was a hard life and sometimes feeling the lesson stuck with the kids more then just learning about the lesson.

Reaching out his hand, Sam helped him to his feet. "What did you want?"

"Dean sent me to find you. Said they needed you back at the school for something?"

"Did he say what?"

"No. Just that I should find you and tell you to 'get your ass back to the school'." Justin put his hands up and took a half step back. "Hey man, his words not mine."

Sam rolled his shoulders and shot Justin an annoyed look, just on principle. He moved past the student and headed back down the trail he just crossed over, heading back to the school.