WOW

WOW! Thank you for your great reviews! I didn't expect them to be so good :D

Ok, updating as fast as I can now, but I give no promises as to how quick :S

Anyway, next chapter up! Please leave a comment: D Ack, this is short, I know, but promise you now, the next chapter WILL be longer!

-:0:-

Sam walked. And walked and freaking walked! The evening wore on, and all Sam had done was walk! The cool night air created shivers which ran down his spine constantly. The harsh wind made his hair go in his face, the long walk tired his legs out and the stinging of his arm caused him to wrap his hand around the cut.

All in all, this hadn't been one of his most bright ideas.

To add to all of this, even after walking for the past 3 hours straight, not one single car had passed him, and he couldn't see any road signs. There were occasional houses dotted around, and he had actually knocked on one of the houses doors, only to be greeted with a lengthy silence. He had guessed nobody was home, and really couldn't be bothered to try again on a different house.

Although, one good thing had come out of his journey. It had given him time to think, given him time to recollect all the spiteful things that had been hurled his way, and it made him hold his head high and forget about Dean and John for a while.

But, with the pride of standing up for himself, also came the mounding grief. His chest grew heavy when he thought of the way Dean had looked at him. His eyes brimmed with tears when he thought about the words that John had carelessly slung at him.

A part of him hated himself for not being more like Dean. For not being the perfect son, and for not being good enough for his own father. But, the other part of him hated John and Dean.

Who were they to tell him he wasn't good enough? Who were they to call him useless?

Of course, his self-loathing side gave him an easy answer: because it's true. But his other, more confident side battle hard against the accusations.

In the end, his self-loathing side won, and he sank to the ground, sobbing loudly and self-pityingly into his hands. But a while later, it was over. He steeled himself, and made himself a promise. He would never give them the satisfaction of letting them win, no matter how much truth came from their lips.

He stood up, stretching his legs, sniffed loudly and walked.

"Always with the bloody walking!" he said to himself.

Then grinned.

-:0:-

"Dad, we can't just sit here, we have to go after him!" Dean yelled loudly for the fourteen-millionth time that day. He was sitting in a chair, his ankle raised and a think bandage wrapped tightly around it.

"No Dean! He will come back. Always has been a pansy. He'll just chicken out like the pathetic moron he is and come crawling back. You'll see." John said smugly, relaxed back, and took a large swig from a bottle of beer. He had his legs up on the kitchen table, and was precariously balanced on two back legs of a chair.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Dean screeched. "Sammy ran away because of you, and now you think he'll come back? Who the bloody hell do you think you are?" He was trembling with rage, and made to stand up. He was stopped by a gun being pointed his way by a trembling hand. Dean rolled his eyes. "Drunk dad. Not good," he thought.

"You will NEVER question my order again, and you will never speak to me like that again!" John said coolly, not even bothering to yell. He knew that this way frightened Dean more than his booming voice.

"Yes sir." He whispered quietly and sat down again.

They sat in silence for the next 5 minutes, and in those few minutes, it hade given Dean a chance to think of what to say to his father.

"Dad, why did you say that stuff? What in the world possessed you to say that? He's your son!" he hissed the last past, putting major emphasis of the word son.

John smirked, stood up, lobbed the bottle of beer on the floor, opened the fridge and plucked out another one.

"I believe that you were the one to agree with me, were you not? Did you not shake your head at the freak, and when he was gone say that he deserved it?" He sat back down and wrenched the lid of the beer off with his teeth.

"I never said he deserved it!" he snarled at John, "I say he should quit being a baby!" he looked at his father once again before shaking his head in denial. His gaze flickered down and he stared at the floor.

Dean froze as a thought struck him and he looked at his father once again. He looked into his eyes, and saw something he didn't recognise. Something that shouldn't have been there. He murmured something that made him gasp in shock and fear at the outcome.

"Christo."

-:0:-

Sam dragged his hand through his mop of hair and sighed heavily. The stars shone brightly above him as he sat down against a tree trunk. He needed a rest and that seemed like a secluded place to stay. He took off his bag a dropped it next to him. Opening the zipper, he rummaged around and drew out his hunting knife once more.

He loved the way it reflected the moonlight. It was almost entrancing. It's smooth blade, so comforting to him. He sighed once again after staring lovingly at it and put it back in the bag. He could still feel his arm burning and itching from earlier, so he scratched it. "It was nearly as good" he thought.

He settled down once more and looked up in the trees. Nothing moved. Not a bird, nor a squirrel. Nothing. Completely empty.

He frowned. There was something not quite right.

He shrugged off his thoughts and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He closed his eyes after a moment and listen to the wind quietly blowing. The worst of it had died out only a little while, and he was glad. He had packed himself a jumper, and was wearing it, but he still felt the chills making their way up his body. Soon after, he fell asleep.

And soon after he fell asleep, did something move. Something large. Something not friendly.

The figure moved forward silently, watching the sleeping Sam Winchester. It could have laughed. It had been trailing Sam all evening and night, just waiting for him to fall asleep or make a mistake. And mistake he had made.

It moved forward, chuckling darkly, in a low voice, revealing it's self to be male and drew out a gun from his back pocket. He stepped towards Sam, making sure he didn't stand on anything that could break and give away his position, mucking up all his beautiful work.

A few seconds later, he hunched down so he was face-to-face with Sam's face and looked at him full of lust. He braced himself and moved his hand forward, placing the gun against the boy's neck.

Sam jolted awake, and instantly froze as the cool surface of the gun was placed firmly against him, trapping him. He looked at the person holding the gun and gasped.

"No where to run now, boy!"

TBC