ok, im back with this story, and i hope to finish this fanfic sometime soon. i felt really bad for completely abandoning it, and i know how it feels when an author just completely stops. it pisses me off, a lot. so here i am, hoping everybody doesnt hate me. if u have any comments, suggestions, criticism, curiosities, or just wanna talk, u can gladly IM, email, or review. if it requires it, i will be more than happy to respond ;)

i realize this chapter is kinda short, but i really wanted to get something up. next one will be long, i promise!

heres chapter 2,

ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sam awoke to Dean and John murmuring quietly to each other, their discernible voices distinct but actual words garbled and seemingly distant. Sam grunted softly, blinking his eyes a couple of times in hopes of adjusting to the meager light centered in front of the bed. He sat up on his elbows, still groggy with sleep, and found them at a small table in the corner of the room, their eyes focused sternly on an article of newspaper, Dean hovering over John's shoulder for a better view. By their faces, Sam wondered if a friend of theirs had died in a tragic accident, but he quickly decided against voicing it. They might get pissed off for being so pessimistic, saying that their "friend's death" wasn't something to play around with, and it was just too damn early for that.

He tossed the sordid sheets off his possibly too-thin frame, and got up, gingerly making his way over to his brother and father. "What are y'all looking at?" he asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes sleepily.

Dean and John looked up abruptly, as if so engrossed in the newspaper they hadn't noticed the hush shuffling of feet as he made their way toward them. Dean replaced his frown with a too-bright, somewhat fake smile, grabbing Sam around the neck in greeting.

"Hey there Sammy, how'd you sleep? Not too bad, I hope" he said playfully, his arm around Sam's neck tightening a fraction in good humor.

Sam smiled half-heartedly, ready for them to just tell him the bad news already. It wasn't like he was 12, too young to be told anything agonizing yet too old to be kept in the dark. He mentally braced himself for the worst, but continued with Dean's gibe. "Just fine, Dean. Hope your bed wasn't too cold without me, but you know how it is" he said, shrugging lightly, "You just gotta go your own way."

Dean laughed, his stretched smile more genuine. Dean replied more physically than verbally, the arm around Sam's neck pushing him down as Dean ran his fingers wildly through Sam's hair, thrashing them all over his head until Sam escaped Dean's grasp at last. Sam's hair, much to his anguish, was a mess. Without delay, he began the task of flattening it down, even ridding himself of a small knot at the back of his neck. Dean laughed uncontrollably all the while, but John's stern "Boys" had them both stopping, turning their direct attention on their father.

Sam watched Dean as he caught glimpse of the newspaper, and he saw Dean's cheery mood visibly deflate. Sam turned to John and gave him a questioning look.

John sighed heavily. "Dean and I have been reading the paper, and it seems like 3 other people have been killed by Mary."

Sam rose an eyebrow in question, but it soon came to him, as if his mind was reminding him on its own accord. Bloody Mary. Sam gulped, thankfully not brought to the attention of Dean or his father. They're gonna want to jump on this. They're gonna find someone with a secret, and soon. Sam couldn't help another gulp roll down his throat as he watched his father almost frantically.

"Well, what are we gonna do now?" Sam racked his brain fervently for another option, but he just couldn't find another alternative other than the obvious. "We could salt and burn her bones. Was she buried?"

John shook his head. "I did some research in the library this morning and, evidently, she was cremated in a town near here. I checked out the place, but there was nothing of interest. It couldn't be there," he mused, "It must be somewhere else."

Sam absently wondered how early John had to have gotten up if he had gone to a whole other town in one morning. He looked over to the dusty, beat up clock hanging on the wall. 12:36. Damn, he'd slept late. Why hadn't they woke him up? The scheduled wake-up time was 7:00, sometimes even 6:00.

Sam situated himself back into the conversation as Dean piped in. "Well, she gets her victims through mirrors, right? Maybe she has no pattern and she's just hopping from mirror to mirror."

"But only getting people with secrets," Sam muttered, feeling suddenly dejected. Dean nodded, looking as if he somehow forgot that part. That was the most important part, Sam thought.

John said, adding everything up for them, "So, if you say Bloody Mary 3 times in front of a mirror and have a secret or know someone that has a secret, then she comes after you."

Dean nodded. "So what do we do?"

Sam's mood was just plummeting further and further into depression as the morning went on. Could this day get any worse?

Probably.

****

Dean and Sam stepped out of the Impala nearly simultaneously and met in front of the black Chevy. Sam sat himself lightly on the hood, making himself comfortable. Dean automatically stood in front of him, out of protection or instinct Sam wasn't sure, seemingly deep in thought. John had said they should look around town for people that could possibly have a secret until he "thought of something better". Sam was under the impression their current idea wasn't super great, -actually, was pretty bad- but he didn't have the will or the guts to say thatto their father. That'd be the ultimate blasphemy. If John knew he was against his dominant, entirely superior rule, the act of disowning would be in effect.

He only hoped he was exaggerating.

And truthfully, though he knew his mind was just feeding to his fears, he couldn't help but wonder. Would John think of disowning Sam if he felt it'd be better for John himself. He had known for a long time Dean was the favorite, it wasn't a big secret or anything, but surely he still loved Sam, just not to the same extent as Dean. Or was Sam's mind just befuddled and confused, and they were both loved equally? He never knew.

Sam watched Dean broke out of his trance, stilling keeping quite a serious look on his face as he turned to face Sam. Sam inwardly cringed, fighting down the urge to wriggle out of his gaze.

Dean stepped a little closer to Sam, no humor in his voice. "Are you hiding anything, Sam? Do you have any secrets I may need to know about?"

Sam seemed to be pushed off balance from the abrupt question, and he would have fallen off the Impala if not for his brother's strong grip. He hoisted him, not roughly, back onto the Impala, his gaze still questioning and stern.

"I need to know, Sam. If this plan doesn't work, and I doubt it will, Dad will summon Bloody Mary himself. And..." Dean paused, possibly trying to let his words sink in or to give himself time to rid all the images from his mind as to what could happen if Sam did have a secret. "If you get hurt from some stupid secret." Dean shook his head, his voice suddenly growing in strength. "I won't let it happen."

He looked Sam firmly in the eyes, and Sam felt his walls crumble. Oh no, Dean's gonna know. He can't find out, and I can't do anything about it. What would Dean think of Sam if he found out what that man did to him, that he was too weak to stop it?

Dean seemed to sense Sam's hesitation and continued on, more determined than ever. "Sammy, I need to know if you're hiding something. You have to tell me. Do you have a secret? A secret that matters?"

Dean could very obviously sense Sam's undeniable secret, and he seemed to see others aspects as well. Sam could almost hear Dean's thoughts: How could Sam lie to me? What is he not telling me? How could he do this? What is he hiding? However, the condemnation and disappoint Dean should have felt wasn't there, Sam's concern rose when he saw Dean's face, full of worry and concern. He patted his thumb across Sam's smooth cheek lightly, and only then did Sam realize a lone tear had made it's way down his face. It brought Sam out of his dream-like trance in a instant, and he slapped Dean's hand away, jumping off the hood of the Impala. He made a dash down the street, narrowly skidding around a speeding car that had come in his direction. He could hear Dean's footsteps by now, the shock of his brother's mad escape catching up with him, and Sam knew he probably wouldn't last long now. The last race he had with his brother was around a year ago, and Dean had beaten him by nearly 20 yards. Sam hoped he had grown in speed, but he couldn't be too sure.

Sam scarcely dodged the group of people crowding the sidewalk, muttering expletives at them all the while, and from behind he heard Dean shouting his expletives, using curse words even George Patton would look up and take notice to. Sam could sense Dean's fiery resolution and, even if Sam was faster, who says he has more stamina? More endurance? Dean would beat him for sure. Sam huffed in annoyance and shame. How could he be so stupid and expect to out-run Dean? He mentally smacked himself, multiple times for good measure, and considered just stopping, let Dean bring hell on him and...and then what? Tell Dean his secret? No, that was not an option, never was. Maybe he could find a way around it, or tell Dean a false secret, or just not the big one.

Sam's stomach churned at the idea of telling Dean, telling Dean how badly he'd fucked up.

That thought alone gave him the extra energy to keep going, his adrenaline only fueling him more. He couldn't let him find out. His vision began to blur, and he felt something cold stream down his cheek. He swiped it away hastily, hating himself for yet another weakness on his part.

He felt the footsteps behind him grow louder, closer, and he discovered, to his abject horror, that he wouldn't be getting out of this. What did he expect to get himself away from? Dean? His past? He was so stupid; Dean was only trying to help, but he pushed him away. But if he found out...

He ended up running himself into a forest. He turned around, Dean hot on his heels but never gaining any more ground. Sam inwardly wondered if Dean was hanging back to see if Sam would give himself up. Was he waiting for Sam to do something loyal for once? Hoping Sam would make a better decision than ones of late? Sam's heart shattered a little more, absolutely detesting the idea of pain and sadness running through Dean's veins.

Sam felt his feet fall out from under him, and it was only until he was laying flat on the floor did he realize he'd tripped on a branch. Fear shot through him, knowing Dean had been hot on his heels.

His conscious spoke correctly, and a second later he felt Dean flipping him over onto his back and straddling his legs, this time making sure escape was impossible. They were both breathing heavily from the exertion. Sam gulped loudly, and he waited for Dean's reign of evil to come pouring down on him. A tear fell down his cheek, but it went unnoticed as he continued to watch Dean, waiting for him to snap. It was only a matter of time before Sam's secret slipped and he'd truly be all alone.

***

hope yall liked it!! im really glad i decided to continue this story! hope u guys get me some feedback, i wanna know how it was and if i should continue. until next time!! ;)

HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED!!!