Hey all! Sorry it took me so long to post this! This story will be about four chapters, I think. Please enjoy and review! :) Sam is 18 and Dean is 22 in this story. :)

5 years later….

Sam stepped out of the library, sighing in frustration. He had nothing. Their most recent hunt was a dead end. He knew something was going on here, but he could find no leads and his dad and brother were both beginning to lose their patience.

Wait. Sam hesitated for only a second, resuming his pace as casually as he could. Something was wrong. Long experience with dangerous and deadly circumstances had helped Sam develop strong instincts and they were screaming at him that he was in danger. The youngest Winchester casually pulled his phone out of his pocket. If I can just get ahold of Dean…..

Before Sam could even open his phone, a hand grabbed his wrist. His response was immediate. Twisting his wrist, he broke the hold, turning to face his attacker even as he took a hasty step back.

An older man stood tall beside him, well-built, bald, and wearing several layers of clothing, toned form shifted into a fighting stance, face twisted in anger.

"What do you want?" Sam barked, even as he scanned the man for weapons and catalogued away what he saw for future use. The man was well-armed. At least one fair-sized knife and Sam was sure he saw the outline of a small gun strapped to the man's waist under his over-shirt.

The older man chuckled humorlessly. "What, you mean you didn't see me coming, demon?"

Sam froze in shock as the man's words flew through his mind and he realized exactly what they meant. He's a hunter. He knows about my visions. Wait. Demon? Oh, crap. "I'm not a demon." Sam responded quietly, desperately hoping, in vain he was sure, that the man would believe him.

"I'm going to put you down like the dog you are."

Sam stopped dead. "Seriously? 'Put you down like the dog you are'? You've got to be kidding me."

The man scowled. "Dogs are simple creatures. You feed them, you give them a bone and they're happy. Throw them a bone and they chase after it for as long as they can with as much energy as they can spare. Far as I can see, you and your family aren't much different. You fell for this fake hunt, didn't you?"

With that, the older man charged forward, faster than Sam was expecting, tackling him and throwing them both to the ground. They wrestled around, each trying to get the better of the other.

"I didn't do anything to you!" Sam grunted, as he struggled to throw the man's weight off him.

The older man grinned, even while swinging his large fists rapidly, trying to break through Sam's defenses and strike a blow against his face. "You're Supernatural and I'm a hunter. That's enough."

Finally, the man swept aside Sam's defending hands with one of his own, his other fist landing a solid blow to Sam's face. Though his defenses had been down for only a millisecond, it gave the older hunter the chance he needed. His fists slammed into Sam's face and chest repeatedly with great force.

Sam grunted with each blow, the pain blossoming and growing in his face and chest.

I'm in trouble.

Sam heard the sound of multiple footsteps approaching distantly and the older hunter responding to a call. Oh crap. He's got friends. Sam knew his time had run out. If he was going to get out of this, it was going to have to be now. With a final burst of adrenaline, fueled by pain and desperation, Sam threw the older hunter off of him and scrambled to his feet, unsteadily taking off down the sidewalk in the direction of his family's motel.

With a thrill of alarm and fear, Sam heard a sharp blast followed by an intense agony in his side and he realized the hunters were shooting at him. Sam ran on, a mantra running through his head, egging him on. Come on. It's not too far. Come on. You can make it. Dad and Dean will be there and they can help you figure this out. You just have to make it there. Come on. Come on.

…

Dean paced back and forth in the room, impatiently. He was bored. He was very, very, very bored. This supposedly urgent hunt had become slow and nothing more than a dead end. Oh, something was definitely happening, probably something supernatural, but Sam had been unable to get any leads or information and Dean was sure one more day in this lousy motel would kill him, or at least drive him crazy.

Speaking of Sam…where the heck is he? "Dad, wasn't Sam supposed to be back by now?"

John looked up from the laptop he was sitting in front of, turning a knowing gaze on his eldest son. "Dean, you know how he is at libraries. He's probably just lost in some book or something."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, probably." But why does my gut say otherwise?

A sudden knock at the door had Dean moving quickly towards it. That better be you, Sam, and you better have a very good explanation of why you're late or I'm going to kick your butt. Throwing the door open, Dean was barely fast enough to catch his baby brother as he crumpled to the floor.

"DAD!"

…..

"The wound isn't too bad. It's a graze, though a pretty deep one. He'll be okay." John re***ured his oldest son, who was staring at the youngest with worry in his eyes, mother-hen instincts flaring up.

Sam was lying on the bed, motionless, having p***ed out the second Dean opened the motel room door. He hadn't woken up since.

John had patched up the bleeding wound in his side where a bullet had grazed him, but was leaving the smaller, less deadly, wounds to his oldest son.

Without another word, Dean moved over to the bed, inspecting the damage with his own eyes. Sam's side was bandaged, but Dean's eyes were drawn to the dark, ugly, severe bruising that was forming on Sam's chest and face. It was proof that Sam had been severely beaten before being shot at and Dean hated the fact that his younger brother would be in a great deal of pain when he woke. The split lip, bloody nose, and cuts on Sam's face really ticked Dean off. What the heck happened to you, Sam? I knew I shouldn't have let you go off to the library by yourself. I knew it. Dang it!

A damp wash-cloth in his hand, Dean gently began to clean up the blood on Sam's face, careful not to press too hard or cause his brother anymore pain.

"You know, Sammy, if you wanted to get a good beating today, I could have sparred with you. You didn't have to go pick fights with the playground bullies. This isn't a good way to get attention, Sammy. Gunshot wounds? That's a little extreme even for you, gigantor. I mean, I can only handle so much of your masochistic ways, Sam. I think I'm just going to tie you up and stick you in the trunk of the Impala from now on."

Dean was sure that if Sam were conscious he'd be rolling his eyes right now. Talking about nothing while cleaning and treating a wounded Sam was a habit that he had developed over the years, one that worsened as Sam got older and participated more in hunts and became more and more of a target to the supernatural. Everyone had ways of dealing and this was Dean's. The baby brother he raised, covered in blood, wasn't a sight he wanted to see, no matter how justified he felt in his life as a hunter.

Dean's thoughts were cut off as Sam groaned lightly, shifting slightly on the bed, his face immediately twisting in pain. His eyes flickered open, roamed for a moment, before landing on Dean. "D-Dean?" he sounded confused, tired, pained.

"Yeah, Sammy. Do you remember what happened?" he asked, even while he reached for some pain killers, shaking two out in his hand, then helping Sam take them without having to move too much.

Sam swallowed, then nodded a little. Dean was instantly concerned by the way Sam's face drained of color. "I was leaving the library. Got attacked by an older guy, trained, knew what he was doing. I got away right before his friends came up to join us." Sam hesitated, wincing in pain as he forgot himself as started to bite his lower lip.

"Relax, Sammy. It's over now. You're safe."

Sam shook his head slightly. "Dean, you don't understand. He…" Sam stopped, memories, realizations, stopping him cold in his explanation. What am I going to do? Gosh, what am I going to do?

"What's wrong, Sammy?"

"Dean, my attacker was a hunter."