Author's Note: Hey everyone! I'm sorry if this chapter's a little repetitive, but I'm coming up with some crazy plans for this fic, and I don't want to rush through the exposition. Please bear with me, and enjoy all the Sam angst! :-)

SPN

(Sioux Falls, South Dakota … Tuesday, November 3, 2005)

Sam did not mean to spend more than an hour in Bobby's spare bathroom. He certainly didn't need more than an hour to freshen up, even with his injuries slowing him down, but he liked the privacy. When he was in the Stynes' custody, Caroline (the family matriarch) personally saw to his hygiene, and the experience had been horrifying. Everything about the last week and a half was horrifying, and now it seemed etched in his memory, threatening to haunt him forever. Tears filled his eyes, and he crumbled to the ground, pressing his back against the door—he didn't want Dean or any of the others to see him like this.

Jessica was gone, just like his premonitions warned him, stabbed to death in a lonely courtyard beneath the marble statue of a two-headed bird. Sam was helpless to save her, and the grief nearly killed him. His heart was pounding, he couldn't keep from shaking, and he desperately wanted to scream. But if he screamed, Jacob might find him, and he couldn't let Jacob find him. Not yet. He wasn't ready to face his brother's temper, and he had no doubt Jacob would be pissed at him for running away. After all, the rule is, you don't walk out on family.

"No," Sam whispered, clenching his fists. The Stynes were not his family, and Jacob was not his brother! Why was that so hard to remember? The Stynes were murdering assholes, and he wanted nothing to do with them! Except for Cyrus, the little boy who helped Sam cope with his abduction. The kid was only seven years old, but he knew the difference between right and wrong, and more importantly, he cared about it. He didn't want to grow up like his family, he didn't want to become a villain, and Sam had promised not to escape without him. He had promised. He should have known better; his dad was too prejudiced against anything remotely supernatural to give a damn. They left Cyrus behind, and the guilt was suffocating.

Sam wasn't sure how long he sat there wallowing in his misery—it felt like ages—but eventually he heard footsteps approaching the door, and he recognized the gait. Dean. His brother, his real brother, and currently his warden. Much like their dad, Dean was skeptical about Cyrus, and he would sooner lock Sam in a closet than let him risk everything by going back to rescue the boy. He meant well, but he could be painfully hypocritical, and Sam didn't want to talk to him.

If only he could block out his emotions. Dean was trying very hard to hold it all together, but he was scared, angry and confused. He wanted to help Sam, but they were both adrift in uncharted waters, and he was at a loss. How could Sam ignore him?

Sure enough, he knocked gently, and Sam quickly got up and wiped his eyes. It didn't do much good—his reflection in the mirror remained pathetic—and he could easily imagine how much Jacob would relish his defeat. He might be fond of Sam, but he was the kind of bastard who expressed his affection through abuse.

"Sammy?"

Wait, that was Dean's voice. Sam glanced at the door, still trembling, and tried to calm his nerves. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Sammy," Dean tried again, with surprising compassion. "You hungry? There's breakfast downstairs."

"I'm fine," Sam assured him, leaning against the sink. Honestly, he could use the nourishment, but he didn't have the slightest appetite. During his captivity, the Stynes compelled him to eat by threatening to force-feed him, but they weren't here, and Dean wasn't that aggressive. Was he?

After a brief hesitation, his brother said, "Look, Sam, I know it sucks right now, but you can't stay cooped up in the bathroom. Come on downstairs. Bobby and his friend, Rufus, have an errand to run that might take a few days, and Jo wants Ellen home as soon as possible. They're on their way out, so why don't you come say goodbye?"

It was a fair request. Bobby, Rufus, and Ellen were three of his rescuers, and Sam owed them all a huge debt. He didn't blame them for Cyrus—at the time, they weren't even aware of the kid's existence. He should thank them, and he should apologize for putting their lives in danger. He didn't mean to burden anyone.

Taking a deep breath, Sam trudged from the sink back to the door, but despite everything, he couldn't bring himself to open it. He wasn't ready. His powers gave him headaches, and he didn't want to feel their pity. Or their scorn. Cowering, he turned away. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm just… I'm so sorry."

SPN

Son of a bitch… Dean hated it when Sam felt responsible for crap he didn't cause. This wasn't his fault! With a backward glance at Ellen, who shook her head sympathetically, Dean tried the doorknob. It was locked—why was he not surprised?

"Come on, Sammy," he muttered to himself, resisting the urge to kick it open. Pamela warned him to stay calm—his brother was officially a psychic, and right now, he didn't need the extra emotional turbulence. But seriously! Dean was on the verge of erupting, and no way in hell could he stay calm. Not after everything that happened in Atlanta. He wanted to kill something—preferably Jacob or that demon.

"Baby steps, Dean," Ellen said softly. "He's not gonna recover overnight. He can't." Something about her voice brought back memories of his early childhood—of his mom—who was already on his mind thanks to that Styne lady's malicious disguise. It wasn't fair. Sam didn't have any memories of their mom to hold onto, which meant their family photos were now tarnished—Mary Winchester's face would only remind him of his captors. How could they do that to him? How could they be that cruel?

"Are you sure you have to leave, Ellen?" he asked wretchedly.

"Mmm…" She nodded. "After everything that's happened… After Jessica… I need to see my daughter again. I've been away from the Roadhouse for too long. But Pamela's still here, and your dad should be on his way. You boys won't be alone."

SPN

When Sam finally emerged from the bathroom, it was late in the afternoon, and the sun was sinking in the west. Dean and Pamela sat across from each other with a nightstand between them, where they played cards while nursing beers. Of course, Pamela had an unfair advantage, but Dean wasn't that engaged to begin with. At the sight of his brother, he held out an unopened bottle, which Sam wordlessly accepted before parking on the bed.

Dean glanced at Pamela, hoping she might break the heavy silence. After all, she was the expert psychic. Shouldn't she be taking charge? But no, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. She motioned for him to get on with it, but what could he possibly say? Tensely, he turned to give his brother a once-over, as always amazed—and concerned—by how little he had grown into his height. For someone so tall, he still looked like a teenager.

As if reading his mind—no, definitely reading his mind—Sam flushed and tried not to fidget while removing the beer cap. "So…" he said, if only to change the subject. "Bobby's out running an errand?"

"Yeah," Dean acknowledged, wondering how much he needed to elaborate. After all, Sam had enough to worry about without adding vampires to the mix.

"Vampires!?" Sam asked in alarm, making Dean wince. Damn it!

Pamela did her best not to laugh, but she couldn't hide her amusement. "Don't worry, Dean," she said after checking herself. "You'll learn to block your thoughts. I can teach you a few exercises to get you started." Then, she focused on Sam. "And as for you, mister, it's high time you put the reigns on your abilities, or else you'll get yourself trampled."

Sam, however, wouldn't be sidetracked. "What vampires!?"

"Just one," she steadily assured him. "But it's a long story, and probably best for Dean to start at the beginning."

Dean's stomach clenched. "Me?" When Sam turned to look at him, his expression was so forlorn that Dean froze, at a loss for words. Suddenly, he just wanted to scoop his brother up and magically make things better—but they were too old for that, and Pamela advised against treating Sam like a child. So instead, he looked back at them stupidly with a blank mind.

"Come on, Dean," Pamela prompted. "Start with how you woke up in that motel bathroom the night Sam was taken, and go from there. Don't leave anything out."

It was a demanding request, but Dean haltingly complied—and once he began, he couldn't stop. On Thursday, October 22, five members of the Styne family (including Jacob) ambushed the brothers in their motel room. After a short fight, they chloroformed Dean and left him in the bathtub. By the time he woke up, they had kidnapped Sam, and were gone without a trace. Dean called John and Bobby for help, but John was too far away. He would conduct his own investigation, and ordered Dean to wait for Bobby and follow his lead.

Together, Dean and Bobby met up with Rabbi Isaac Bass from the Judah Initiative, a secret organization that fought the Nazis during the second world war. Because the Winchesters were all legacies—heirs to another organization called the Men of Letters—they were natural allies with the Judah Initiative, and Rabbi Bass was eager to help. He explained how Herman Styne taught necromancy to the Nazi Commandant Eckhart, leader of the Thule Society, which made the Stynes their common enemy.

Over time, Eckhart and his goons became proficient spellcasters, able to retain their youth indefinitely. After the war, they disappeared into the shadows, keeping a low profile while waiting for opportunities to pick up where they left off and achieve world domination. What else? As it turned out, Rabbi Bass was being followed by Torvald, one of Eckhart's closest confidants, who possessed a special necromantic talisman that could conjure and control ghosts and spirits.

Desperate for answers, Dean and Bobby trapped the Nazi bastard and summoned Monroe, who reluctantly informed them about the Stynes' safe house in the pocket dimension between realities. To access it, they had to perform an entry spell using an ancient obsidian mirror that was consecrated with infant blood at midnight near the temple ruins of the god, Janus, in Rome. That's why it took so long to mount a rescue—the 'key' was nearly impossible to forge!

But forge it they did, and shortly thereafter, they teamed up with Ellen, Special Agent Victor Henriksen, Special Agent Nathan Findley, Rufus Turner, Pastor Jim and Caleb. They ventured into Buckhead, a wealthy neighborhood down in Atlanta, where they finally opened the portal, only to be derailed by a reaper named Bianca who dragged them into Purgatory.

Dean took a deep breath. "Here's where it gets complicated. You know how the Stynes are reincarnated after they die? Well, Bianca's the bitch who allows it. She has a taste for the Men of Letters' legacies—namely us—and when the Stynes sacrifice us in their reincarnation ritual, she apparently eats our souls. Then, she returns the favor by bringing dead Stynes back to life."

Sam looked sick. Technically, he didn't have to worry about being sacrificed. According to the demon, and verified by Elizabeth Styne (the family fortune-teller), he was too contaminated for the ritual. Still, he didn't appreciate the threat to John and Dean.

"Because they have such a good working relationship," Dean went on, "Monroe asked Bianca to help him. She agreed. Tried to punish Bobby for exploiting Monroe. Naturally, Bobby used himself as bait to lead her away from the rest of us so we could focus on our rescue mission. That's when he met a vampire named Benny."

"What's a vampire doing in Purgatory?" Sam asked.

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot. Apparently, Purgatory is where monsters go when they die, and everything we thought we knew of the place is simply a misconception."

Sam blinked, shaking his head in bewilderment. Then, he buried his face in his free hand and listened to the rest of the story in mounting agitation. Dean quickly described Bobby's agreement with the vampire—how they escaped Purgatory together and were planning to join forces against the Stynes. Pamela interjected to reiterate how the monster could be trusted, but Sam didn't seem convinced.

"Meanwhile," Dean summed up, "Pastor Jim, he, um… He didn't make it…" Sam held back an anguished sob. "And he attracted a different reaper named Tessa, who didn't approve of Bianca's actions. Next thing I know, they're fighting each other, and then, suddenly, they're gone. Just like that. The rest of us regrouped at the portal and finally found our way to the Stynes' pocket dimension where we rescued you. End of story."

Except, the story was far from over, and Dean knew it. Their enemies were still at large, and Sam had yet to recount his own ordeal. At some point, John would demand to hear each and every detail—but Dean wasn't their father, and the last thing Sam needed was an interrogation. The kid was traumatized! How could anyone force him to relive that experience?

Slowly, and obviously deep in thought, Sam took a sip of his beer. Dean noticed him wavering and suspected it was all he could do not to drop the bottle. After a moment, he nervously asked, "So now what? Bobby's going on a killing spree with a vampire?"

"Hunting spree," Dean gently modified.

"And they're gonna kill Cyrus too?"

Dean grimaced. He should have seen this coming, and didn't have to be psychic to know it would lead to an argument. Better get it out of the way before John arrived to make it worse. "Look, Sam… I can easily call up Bobby and tell him to spare the kid, but you've got to give me a reason. Why do you trust him?"

Sam stared sullenly at the floor. "Because he's innocent. He never had a past life, Dean. The Stynes won't always be able to sacrifice legacies for their reincarnation ritual, but they can still have children. Their family history won't be on repeat anymore; it will finally be linear, and their children will be 'new.' It's already started with Jacob and Cyrus; they're both new. And Cyrus… He's a good kid. He loathes his family, and I promised to help him."

Dean had to admit, Sam made a compelling case. The kid was only seven years old! As far as they knew, he was still a normal human, which made him guilty of nothing but association, and they couldn't kill him for that. Damn… Why must everything be so difficult? "Okay… I hear you, Sam, and I'll spread the word. But listen to me. You are not obligated to help him. He's not your responsibility."

Sam shook his head. "We're not obligated to help anyone, Dean, but we still do—all the time. It's how we were raised."

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because those are normal hunts!" Dean exclaimed, trying to stay patient. "They're not personal. Sam… Jacob's not giving up on you, and he knows how to play you. He did it with Jessica, and he'll do it again with Cyrus." Sam blinked back tears at the mention of his girlfriend, but he had to know the stakes. "I'm sorry, but it's too dangerous."

"Jessica's gone," Sam whispered brokenly. "And if I can't help Cyrus, then what good am I?"

Dean groaned, ducking his head in frustration. "Come on, Sammy. It doesn't work that way."

"Yes it does!" Sam insisted. "Because Cyrus and I… We're the same. We're both drowning in all this evil, desperate to keep our heads above the water, and it's not fair. He deserves a lifeline as much as I do. Maybe even more."

"Please, Sam," Dean replied, practically begging. "Be smart about this."

"Your brother's right, kiddo," Pamela said, much to Dean's relief. "Think about your own words. No one expects a drowning man to rescue a drowning boy. That's just common sense. You're not any good to Cyrus if the Stynes recapture you, so your best option is to trust Bobby and let him handle it."

Sam hesitated. "You think he'd do that for me?"

"Oh, in a heartbeat," Pamela assured him. "He's already willing to let a vampire out into the world, so why wouldn't he help Cyrus? But you need to concentrate on recuperating. I know you weren't technically shot, but your arm and leg say otherwise. You're not even close to fighting condition, especially with your abilities running wild, and you're not leaving this house till I clear you, understand?"

Sam nodded, averting his eyes, but Dean knew his brother well enough to doubt his concession. He was just telling them what they wanted to hear, but he wasn't about to drop the matter. He cared too much for Cyrus to trust him with anyone—even Bobby. Dean would have to keep him under close observation, which really sucked, cause he didn't want Sam to feel like a prisoner. Damn Stynes!

"Now then," Pamela continued. "It's time for dinner. Who wants mac and cheese?"

SPN

Please Review!