A/N: The response to this has been awesome. You guys are really great. Enjoy chapter two. Again, Happy Birthday Jean. Hope you have a great evening.

Chapter 2

Sam startled fully awake when he sensed someone watching him from the darkness. He stretched and stood from his crouch at the base of the wall. His back cracked and his neck protested but he quashed the urge to work out the kinks and glared at the hulking shape that waited patiently on the other side of the bars. "Who the hell are you?" Sam asked, enunciating each word carefully.

"Someone with something to look forward to." The shape answered him back. "Would you like some more water?"

"Go to hell." Sam growled.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the person who brought you lunch?"

"You think I'm eating or drinking anything else you bring me you're out of your freaking mind."

"Come on, you have to keep your strength up Sammy."

"Don't call me that." The man in the dark snickered at Sam's agitation and stepped a couple paces closer, careful to stay both out of Sam's reach and out of the light.

"I've seen what you can do Sam. I've seen you use the sight. You can tell who I am if you see my face. You've seen what I've done. You told your brother of my adventures. I can't take the chance of you seeing something else. You see, I have too much fun with my little adventures. With my hunts."

"Hunts? What?"

"I'll let you puzzle that one out yourself young Jedi. You'll figure it out soon enough." The shadow man turned and walked off into the darkness. Sam watched as a door opened to allow the man to pass through. Sam couldn't make out any features of the man because the sudden light blinded him but as he saw the man's shadow something clicked in his head. Sam stared hard at the wall where he'd last seen the shadow, before leaning against the wall and wishing he was anywhere else.

"Crap."

Dean and Bobby were outside the motel room. Bobby was alertly looking for traces of what happened to Sam. Bobby shook his head as he reanalyzed everything he saw. "Nothing. There's nothing besides that damn tooth that tells us Sam didn't just take off on his own."

"Damn it! How are we gonna find Sammy?"

"We will Dean." Bobby said as he looked at the exhausted young hunter. "First, you need to rest. Get your wits aboutcha."

"Bobby I can't sleep with him out there somewhere. If he's hurt someplace or he needs my help…"

"The only way you're gonna be able to find him is to keep your head. You go off half cocked and you could miss the one thing that lets ya find the kid. Remember what your daddy taught ya about trackin'?"

"Keep wide open eyes on the trail. It changes faster than you can blink."

"Right Dean."

"Alright. I'll crash for a couple hours. But Bobby, we gotta find him."

Bobby walked up to Dean and clasped a calloused hand to his neck again, squeezing reassuringly. "We will Kiddo. I promise ya we will." He dropped his hand and followed Dean back into the room. Dean lay down on his bed and heaved a weary sigh, his eyes slipping closed not long after his head eased into the pillow.

Sam had slid down the wall to once again sit with his knees against his chest at the base of it. It was turning colder; he felt the chill penetrate deeply into him. Sam alertly scanned every inch of his cell, looking desperately for an escape. Finally something just to the right of the door caught his attention. He stood, still feeling slightly lethargic, and made his way across the small space. He kneeled down and looked more closely at what caught his eye. There it was; a small chink in the block where it looked like something chipped the masonry away. Sam lifted a hand and ran his fingers over the jagged edge. Slipping his pinky finger into the crevice he felt the metal frame of the cell door.

"So, this jerk is keeping psychics prisoner, huh? Well, just maybe I'll give him a run for his money." Sam wiggled his finger and hissed when the cement's jagged edge bit into his flesh. "Ouch… Okay, this sonofabitch is starting to really piss me off. Got to get the hell outta here and find Dean." Sam pulled his finger back and wiped the drop of blood absently on his worn jeans. He stood back from the door and stared hard at it.

Dean slept on as Bobby quietly researched both the missing shaggy haired kid and any other instances of disappearances like Sam's. Something was bothering him about how Sam went missing and who could have taken the six foot four two hundred plus pound young man without so much as a grunt that would have alerted Dean to trouble. Even drunk Dean was far more alert than he let on. Bobby took another look around the motel room and spotted a dark bottle on the floor near the trash can. He picked it up. Jim Beam wafted up to his nose and Bobby took a deeper breath of the liquor. It didn't smell right. Bobby looked inside the bottle and saw a faint trace of a powder film clinging to the sides of the glass. He ran a finger over the lip of the bottle and it came away smudged with the white film. Drugged, Dean was drugged too. Damnit, what the hell wants these boys now?

Bobby watched Dean sleep, loath to wake the boy because of the long road ahead in finding the youngest Winchester alive and hopefully well. Just hang in there Sam. Bobby went back to his research.

"Damnit!" Sam said as he reached a hand up to rub at his temple. His head was throbbing and still the door remained unmoving. He sat dejectedly on the cold cement floor and lowered his eyes. "I have to get out of here." Dean, please man. Find me. Please be okay man. I know you're pissed at me and I get it but please Dean, help me. Sam closed his eyes and thought back to the fight he had with Dean. Their tempers, being too close for too long, had finally gotten the better of them both.

Dean whirled away from Sam, grabbing up his jacket. He shoved his arms into the worn yet beautiful brown leather and headed for the door of the motel room. "Where are you going Dean?"

"OUT. You're being bitchy and I just can't take it."

"We need to talk about this Dean."

"Not now Sam."

"When?"

"Never, if I have anything to say about it."

"You're being unreasonable."

"You need to grow up!" Dean slammed the motel room door behind him, the words stinging like a physical blow. Sam staggered back and stared at the door as he heard the rumble of the Impala's engine fire and then die off as Dean pulled out of the lot.

"Dean. I need my brother back. That's all. That's why we need to talk. I just want my brother back." Sam fell onto the edge of his bed and buried his head in his hands.

Sam snapped out of his reverie when he heard the grating sound of metal against masonry. His startled hazel eyes looked up to see the door jamb crumble around the weakened block. The bolt holding the door in place popped loose and the door squeaked open. Sam quickly stood and grabbed the door to keep the noise from becoming noticeable. "Damn. I did it." Sam squeezed by the open door and pushed it shut again, hoping that the noise wasn't loud enough to alert his captor. Sam listened quietly for footsteps or another noise alerting him he wasn't alone. Other than his own breathing he heard nothing. Sam looked quickly around the dark room and found his flannel draped over a chair just past his line of sight from the cell he was in. He quickly snatched it up and made his way to where he remembered the door being. Turning the knob he found it locked. The latch was old fashioned, a flat bolt in the door jamb the only thing holding it in place. Still it held. Sam took a deep breath and turned the knob with all his strength. He felt it give with a loud snap and he held the breath a little longer, listening to see if the noise gave him away. Again hearing nothing he swung the door open and slipped into the dark tunnel of a hall. He saw a shaft of wan lighting seeping through the cracks around an exterior door and made his way to it quietly. Another latch. He snapped it with a grating clang and disappeared into the twilight.

"That's it young Jedi. You're doing exactly what I want you to do. So predictable, yet so much fun. The hunt is on." The man grabbed the high powered rifle that rested in the rack near the door and headed out, following the barely visible trail that told him exactly where his prey was headed.

Sam half ran, half stumbled through the woods, the chill of the evening biting through his flannel and numbing his arms. He had no idea where he was, his head was pounding once again and his need to find his brother, help me Dean, was palpable. Not recognizing any landmarks or hearing anything to help him find a road, Sam set off deeper into the woods. His back between his shoulder blades was beginning to itch. He knew he was being watched, knew he needed to find some place to hole up, someplace defendable. He took off, seeing a ridge of rock looming over the treetops in the distance.

Bobby glanced up as he heard movement coming from the bed. Dean's head turned and eased slightly deeper into the pillow. He sighed and stilled again. Bobby returned to the research, looking into the disappearances in the area, digging deeper, hoping to find a connection to Sam, some similarity in circumstances that would let them find the youngest Winchester. Hang in there Sam. WE WILL FIND YOU.

Sam walked through the forest, taking care to disguise his tracks. He knew he'd slipped up. In his haste to get away he'd left a trail a blind man could follow. At least by his dad's standards. An average man couldn't have seen the trail if it had been pointed out to him, but he and Dean had been taught by two of the best. As Sam looked over his back trail bits of leaves stirred up and broken twigs stood out like the yellow brick road. He still knew he had a tail but as he turned back he saw nothing, no trace of the shadow man, the man he knew was hunting him as if he were big game. He turned around and began walking again, flinching when a gun shot rang out.

A/N: I'm thinking another chapter. But not until tomorrow. Let me know what you think so far.