SUPERNATURAL
REVENGE
WRITTEN BY: MEMPHIS_HEAT123
DISCLAIMER: I am in no way connected to the show, this story is for fun only.
SUMMARY: A hunter with a grudge against John kidnaps eight-year-old Sam and twelve-year-old Dean. He plans on using them to hurt John.
WARNING: A few curse words, some said by a twelve-year-old. Physical abuse of a twelve-year-old by a stranger.
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"When is Dad coming back?" Eight-year-old Sam asked, as he jumped onto Dean's bed.
"In the morning." Dean replied, as he tossed the tv remote onto the bed.
The motel they were currently staying at only picked up five channels, and there was nothing interesting on those channels.
"How mean are poltergeists?" Sam asked, worry evident in his voice. He had just learned of his Dad's true occupation less then two months prior. And he worried a lot about the man's safety.
"Not as mean as Dad." Dean said.
"Dad ain't mean." Sam replied. "He yells a lot and spanks us when we're bad. But he ain't mean."
"Not to us." Dean replied with a smirk. "But he is to the ugly sons of bitches he ganks."
Sam was about to say something, but Dean held up a hand to silence him. The twelve-year-old had heard a noise at the door. He jumped off the bed, yanked Sam off of the bed, grabbed the gun he kept under his pillow, and shoved Sam behind him. All in lightening speed.
The door burst open, sending splinters of wood flying in all directions. Three men entered the room, all three held guns aimed at the boys.
"You may want to put that little pea shooter down, Dean." One of the men said, as he stepped forward towards the frightened boys. "I'd hate to have to ventilate you, but my plans will work just as good with one little Winchester instead of two."
Dean heard Sam whimper behind him, and he tried to come up with a plan. But he couldn't. He knew he was no match for the armed men, and if he was killed then Sam would be on his own. He slowly bent down and placed the gun on the floor.
"Smart move, sport." The man said. He was tall, just over six feet. With broad shoulders and massive arms. Dean figured he was around thirty.
"What do you want?" Dean asked, glaring at the intruder.
"Your Daddy."
"Dad's not here. And if you were smart, you'd leave before he gets back. Because he is going to kick your sorry ass."
The man took another step towards the boys and backhanded Dean hard across the face. The force of the blow knocked the boy onto the floor.
"Dean!" Sam wailed.
The man turned to the frightened eight-year-old, and Dean jumped up and quickly re-placed himself between the man and his little brother. He could feel blood running from his busted lip, but he ignored it.
"You're a tough one, aren't you?" The man gave a nasty grin. Then he turned towards the other two men, who were still standing in the doorway. "Grab them."
The two large men stepped forward, one grabbing Dean's arm roughly and the other grabbing Sam's.
"It's okay, Sammy." Dean said to his scared little brother. "Just stay calm, it'll be okay."
The one pulling Sam walked out of the room and the one dragging Dean started to exit the room as well.
"Wait." Dean said. "We need our coats." It was mid February and had been snowing for the past two days.
The first man grabbed the two coats off of the table and followed them outside and to a black van. The two boys were tossed into the back of it and the man threw their coats in after them. Then one of the other men climbed in back with them while the other two got into the front.
Dean scrambled over to his crying brother and wrapped an arm around him. "It'll be okay Sammy." He said, hoping he sounded more confident then he actually was. "I'm here. I won't let them hurt you." Dean grabbed the coats and put his on, then helped Sammy put his on. It was cold in the van.
Sam continued to cry and Dean continued to hold him. The twelve-year-old was also trying to come up with an escape plan. The back of the van was completely empty, even the seats had been taken out. The man back there with them was sitting against the side of the van, his eyes never leaving the boys.
"What do you want with us?" Dean asked, trying to keep his voice from quivering.
"A little thing called revenge." The boss said from the front passenger seat. He turned and looked at them.
"We've never did anything to you."
"True, but your Daddy has."
"Then why take us? Why not go after him." Then the young boy smirked. "I know why, you are a chicken shit who doesn't want to face a man. So you pick on his kids."
"You best watch your mouth." The man hissed in anger. "Like I said, I only need one brat." Then he turned back around and started talking to the driver.
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Three hours later, the van pulled to a stop outside a rundown farm house. The driver climbed out, then walked to the back of the van and opened the door.
"Out." The man in the back of the van ordered.
The two boys climbed out of the van and stood behind it, Sam was clutching his brother's hand and had his face buried into his side.
Dean surveyed the area with sharp eyes. The farmhouse was a two story Victorian style home, and was in serious need of repair. The front porch was collapsed in several places, the windows were broken out and boarded up, and the paint was chipping.
There was a barn several yards away, also in terrible condition. The area was surrounded on three sides by empty fields. A four wheeler was parked in front of the house.
The two hench men grabbed the boys' arms and pulled them into the house. The inside of the house was as bad as the outside. It looked as if no one had lived there for many years.
The boys were taken down a hallway and thrown into a room, then the door was slammed and locked behind them. Dean surveyed the room, but found it completely empty except for two sleeping bags laying in the floor. The two windows in the room were broken out, but were bared.
"I'm scared Dean." Sam said, as fresh tears sprung from his eyes.
"I know, Sammy." Dean said, hugging the smaller boy. "But you have to be brave for me until I find a way out of this."
"Okay." Sam sniffled, trying to stop the tears and be brave.
Dean released his little brother and walked over to the window. looking through he bars, he saw the boss hand the other two men some money and shake their hands. Then the two men climbed back into the van and drove away.
"Looks like the two goons were just hired help." Dean said. "We only to worry about one."
"Why is he mad at Dad?" Sam wanted to know.
"No idea, tiger." Dean said. "But don't worry; we'll get out of this."
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John pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the motel and stared in horror at the sight of the two police cars, both had their lights flashing. He stopped the car and looked out the window, noticing the splintered door. He climbed out of the car and walked over to the small group of onlookers that had assembled.
"What happened?" He asked, years of hunting had taught him how to make the question sound casual. But he was screaming on the inside, worried about his boys.
"Two young boys were kidnapped." A man said. "Dragged out of that room and thrown in the back of a black van."
"Who saw it happen?" John asked, his heart constricting.
"I did." A woman said, as she dabbed her eyes with a napkin. "Pooh little kids. There were three men."
"Which way did they head?"
"North." The woman said.
John went back to his car and slid in behind the wheel. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a very familiar number.
"Yes?" The voice on the other end said.
"Bobby, it's John." John said. "I'm in Beaver Falls, about a hundred miles from you. I need you here."
"What happened?" Bobby asked.
"Someone grabbed the boys, no idea who."
"I'm leaving now." Bobby assured him.
John hung up the phone and slammed his hand against the dash in frustration and fear. "Hang on boys." He whispered, as a couple tears rolled down his cheeks. "I will find you."
He started the car and was about to leave, when he saw a young girl running towards his car. He figured she was around nine or ten.
"Are you Mr. Winchester?" She asked.
"Yes."
"Here." She handed him a note.
"Who gave this to you?" John asked.
"Some nice man, he gave me twenty dollars to give it to you."
"Is he still here?"
"No, he left in a black van this morning. He said to wait till a big man in a black car came up and looked at the motel room where the cops are."
"Thank you." John said.
"Sure." She replied, then walked off.
John read the note softly. "You sent me away for two years, but I'm out now. Your boys will die slowly if you do not do exactly what I say. Go to the Oakdale Motel on Route five, rent room number twelve and wait. I will call in one hour."
John re-read the note and cursed, his fear for the boys doubling. He knew who wrote the note, knew who took his sons. And he knew that the man was not above killing two little boys.
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Dean and Sam were sitting on the sleeping bags when the door opened. Dean scrambled to his feet and stood in front of Sam.
"Having fun boys?" The man asked, as he walked in.
"Who are you?" Dean asked.
"Tony Calhoun." The man replied. "A couple years ago, your Dad and I were on a hunt together. He betrayed me, now it's payback time."
"If you know Dad." Dean said, glaring at him. "Then you know that you will never get away with this. Dad will crush you."
"I don't think so Sport." Calhoun chuckled. "Johnny boy won't do a damn thing as long as I have his boys."
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Please let me know what you think. I should have the next chapter up tomorrow.