A/N: Sorry, sorry… I swear I really didn't mean for it to look like I had abandoned the story. O.O Promise that I am going to finish it, maybe even next chapter (that I have half way done so it should be posting relatively quickly.) To be honest I really didn't enjoy writing this chapter as much as the next one X), making it one of the reason its so long in coming. The other being I got seriously distracted with anime. . Hikaru no go actually, went and read all the fan fiction for it (a sadly small community, sigh.) and haven't been able to get back to reading SN fan fiction yet gasps. Terrible I know. Anyway, hope you all enjoy the chapter. Many thanks to my new Beta Sephyinabox . Definitely helps to have someone to have ideas to through at.

I am a Winchester

Summary: When Sam was seven years old, he was taken from his only remaining family. Nine Years later he runs from his home in Cartersville, finding Dean along the way. When will the two realize that they have found each other?

Sitting inside one of the cells in the jail, Sam cursed himself for being so careless back at the grocery store. Getting himself arrested for the night was looking worse and worse as time trickled by. Just then the sheriff of the small town walked into the room. "Alright kid, I tried the number you gave me, and got jack squat. Its been disconnected, so you better tell me the truth, boy, or we'll have to do this the hard way."

Staring up wearily at the older man Sam replied, "What would the hard way be?"

The semi-friendly expression that the sheriff had been trying hard to support collapsed in on itself, "Listen boy, this is a small upstanding town, and we don't take well to runaways. I bet your folks are worried sick about you, and you just don't care a darn. So you better tell me or I swear I'll let Barney have a go at you."

"Barney?"

"Don't make fun of me, boy!"

"I wasn't, sir."

The sheriff's beady eyes screwed holes into Sam's head. "You better not be." A pause, "Well what do you have to say?"

Sam replied tiredly, "Just like before, sir. I'm Sam Young, my phone number is 555-638-2832, I was out with some of my friends on a trip down to Denver when they ditched me."

A low growl came from the sheriff before the man swept around and walked back into the office section of the building slamming the door shut as he went. Sam knew that the beefy man was mostly hot air, although he was certainly one of the more high-strung sheriffs that he had met. John Fern had already promised Sam a night in the cell for shoplifting, and would probably add on to that until he could either contact Sam's parents, or was forced to release him.

Sam sighed, he was in for a long stay, gently he hoisted himself off the bed. Hopefully Dean wouldn't find out that he had been arrested, he really wasn't ready to face the older man. He had seemed too… at a loss with everything Sam had thrown at him, and with a sinking feeling Sam was beginning to realize that there was a huge misunderstanding going on. Though on what he couldn't really imagine. Maybe he had jumped to the wrong conclusion about Dean knowing about him, although it seemed terribly chancy to be otherwise.

The door slammed open once again revealing a smirking Sheriff. "Well boy, I just got a call from my friend Marsha down in Cheyenne, turns out there is a sixteen year old boy fitting your description that went missing a little more then a week ago from Cartersville, sounds familiar?" Sam froze, no way, they couldn't have possibility lined him up so quickly... "Yeah, I thought so. So I went ahead and called your poor parents and told them I thought that I had their kid. Their getting plane tickets to come get you right now, your one lucky kid." The sheriff smirked dryly, and Sam felt like he was going to be sick. If his parents were coming… then so was Harry.

The conversation that John had with his only remaining son hadn't gone well to say the least. He growled slightly at the back of his throat as he pushed down harder on the gas. Some kind of demon had decided to fool Dean into thinking his younger brother was still alive. From the sound of it, the counterfeit was a trickster playing with his son's emotions. It had Dean going so well that well John had tried to explain it his son had blown up at him.

If it was one thing about trickster's that John knew, was that when they picked up on a weakness in someone they exploited it to the fullest, even to death at times. He wasn't sure why it would go after Dean per say, although it was probably trying to teach his boy some twisted lesson about life. John's hands gripped tighter to the steering wheel. Dean had enough lessons without some sick supernatural bastard to add to the pile. The hunt that John was going to check out would have to wait until he could clear this up with Dean. Nothing messed with a Winchester and got away with it.

Dean slumped down against the wall of a small through street. He had panicked after loosing track of Sam and called his dad, trying to find out if it was true. A dark laugh escaped him, John had instantly jumped to the conclusion that Dean was being tricked, not trusting his son's judgment. A pang of defeat echoed through Dean, if that was true it would be much easier in the long run. Then at least he wouldn't feel as though his whole life had been swept out from under his feet and only a hole remaining where he was falling down… and down.

He had struggled so much to put Sam behind him, he and his dad hadn't spoken to each other for a year afterwards except for on hunts. There had even been a time when Dean had run, trying to somehow get away from the agony of loosing his little brother. If all that was just a mistake, a useless mistake that had not only almost killed Dean, but also Sam… He scratched his fingers harshly against the pavement making them bleed. Dean was wasting time dwelling on what was in the past. Finding Sam had to be his first priority before anything else. If his dad got to Buffalo before then even if all this was just some grand mistake, the boy Dean had known over the last few days would be dead.

Jumping to his feet he made his way back to his car. Sam had been making his way a crossed the country hitch hiking as far as Dean was aware. Therefore the kid would be trying to find places where there was plenty of traffic that didn't mind picking up a lone kid with little to no defenses on his side. Dean tightened his fists cutting his fingers into his flesh slightly. He needed to find whatever down and dirty places the middle of no where town had to over before Sam took a ride out of there. His tracking ability was good, but his dad's was most certainly better. A burst of adrenaline shot through his blood, speed was a necessity now.

Sam paced back and forth across his jail cell. He had to find a way out of there and quickly. Urgency pumped through his veins as he tried to come up with a plan, any plan. The sheriff already had a dislike of him, that much was obvious, so it was unlikely that he would be able to figure out a trade with the man. Sam bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut before slumping to the ground. The only way, the only way he could think of to get out of this mess was to somehow get outside help. The only outside help being Dean who he had just recently ran away from.

There was twisted irony that lumped into his stomach piercing him to the bone. His hand forcefully relaxed itself from the fist he had squeezed it into. If he had to pick between Harry and Dean there really wasn't much of a choice there. First thing he had to do was get the sheriff to let him have a call…

It was another forty-five minutes though before the small town man came back into the room with Sam's dinner in hand. There was a short exchange of words before Sam popped the question as the sheriff was leaving. "Do you think I could call my mom, um…, you know explain to her everything before she gets here. She worries a lot and…" The sheriff eyed him suspiciously before waving him off. "Your parents are busy now son, should be here in the morning sometime. I'm sure that a few more hours of worry won't hurt." The man callously laughed.

Sam paled, they were coming… and Dean… Dean would have probably left town come sunrise, forgetting all about the little brother that he didn't want. "Well, they might not have gotten onto the plane yet, and I would at least like to try…"

"No." The sheriff already was opening the door, "I'll come back for the plates in half an hour." He paused, "Eat up, don't want your mama to think I was starving you." And with a slam he was gone.

Sam swore and slumped down onto the hard cot. He would try again when the sheriff came back, but the likelihood of being able to convince the stubborn man was practically null. Hopefully he would have some luck… if not then… He swallowed harshly as he felt bile rise up in his throat. His stomach coldly reminding him that what would happen if he returned home was not even worth thinking about. He had to figure out a way out of this, no matter what.

It had been hours since Dean lost Sam. He had checked everywhere that he could think of and more. Making rounds of the town's few bars, making sure that Sam hadn't checked in while he had been some place else. Yet, there was little to no sign of the kid. It wasn't until a little after one that Dean finally found something. Apparently there was a kid hitch hiking his way north up I-25 that was staying at the Robert's house the night. The Robert's not meaning anything to Dean, but the address that he picked up from a the barmaid meant everything. He quickly made his way there, only to realize if he tried to get Sam now, and Sam resisted, things might not turn out so good. There was a good chance that the law of Buffalo would think that he was trying to kidnap the kid.

He wrecked his hand through his hair looking down to the ground at he did so. There were going to be repercussions of finding Sam, even after they worked out everything with John. For whatever reason Sam seemed to think that they had purposefully abandoned him. Which was complete and utter trash in Dean's opinion. That day of the fire, had been horrible to begin with. The hunt that John had taken Dean on had gone to the dogs leaving them away from the run down apartment for way to long. Then as they returned bruised and bloodied they saw the flames finishing off the seven floor building with Sam inside. That was wrong though… Sam hadn't died that day. Dean sighed in confused frustration.

Somehow… Sam had got out of the apartment that John had locked shut tightly, and been placed into Child Services. Dean tried to run it through his head, Sam had said… was it possible that someone had reported them? That Social Services had come and rescued Sam before the fire even happened? The younger boy seemed oblivious about the flames that had consumed the rundown building so…

Why hadn't they thought of it before? Sure it seemed far fetched, especially at the time, but why hadn't they at least checked in all their grief for more evidence then a short clip in the news paper about the casualties? The guilt was piling on top of the emotions that Dean had felt that day and nearly suffocated him. He needed, he needed a break. Something to take everything off his mind until morning when he could actually do something.

So Dean headed back to one of the only bars in town that didn't seem to be running down with the night. It was Friday night at least, so one of them would stay open for at least an hour or so, even in a small town. As he drove there and bought his drinks though, Dean couldn't help but drown even further into the past. Things he thought would not be looking better in the morning.

The flight to Denver hadn't taken long even though they had to wait until two to leave. It was the drive that was driving Harry completely out of his mind. His adoptive parents where already wanting to pull over and get a room for the night, while he just wanted to get to Buffalo as soon as possible. Sam was going to pay for what had happened back at the trashy bar plus a little more. He darkly smirked, dogs and cats didn't compare in the least to Sammy, and he had missed him… Of course the chase had been a different, but equal kind of fun until that jerk had come and messed it all up.

Somehow Sam had been able to get some fool who wanted to take 'care' of him. Harry grinned slightly, as good as the jerk was at hand to hand fighting… a good bullet to the head would fix that. After all, nothing came between him and Sammy…

It was a fitful sleep that Sam finally feel into in the early hours of the morning. Memories mixing with fears twisting his dreams into nightmarish visions. He woke gasping for breath just before the sheriff walked into the cell room with a unhelpful grin and a plate of bacon and eggs. "Alright kid, your mama called and said they are just a half hour away or so." He paused as he looked at Sam speculatively as the teen looked blankly at his breakfast. "Look, kid… You should get your act together and appreciate what you have you know? You probably think you've got it real tough or something, but keep in mind that there is always something worse out there." The man got a distant look on his face, "You've got to face whatever, otherwise your no more then a coward." Sam looked up to meet the sheriffs gaze, trying to figure out the rapid change of character. Before he could however the man shifted back uncaringly reminding Sam not to waste any of the good food that he had made for him.

Sam felt nauseous as he looked at the oil dripping of the bacon and quickly shifted away from the plate. He couldn't figure out a way out of this. Harry, Harry was almost there and he was locked up in a cage unable to escape. Belatedly he realized he had bit his lip a little to tightly and it was bleeding slowly. All that he had gone through to get to this point was for nothing. Everything was worthless, and he should have realized that he would never escape from Harry.

He closed his eyes, maybe that's what his whole life had become, just another mouse to scurry about the corner as the cat played with him until it was bored. It seemed so wrong though, for so long he could remember that he was happy once. That it wasn't right for him to constantly fear for his own life. For the moment he allowed himself to remember what it was like before the social worker's took him. It wasn't something he did very often, knowing that it would fail him in the end. Even now the memories were vague and distorted.

It was with a jolt that Sam finally returned to reality as he heard a car pull up… They had arrived.

Dean freaked out when he found out that the idiot who had been hitch hiking north was not in fact his Sammy. The knowledge of where the kid was had been at least somewhat comforting that night as Dean prepared himself for the confrontation. Now that was gone, and he was at a lose as to where his little brother was. He couldn't lose Sam all over again. He wouldn't.

It wasn't until he saw the police lights and heard the siren that Dean realized he had been speeding in the twenty-five miles per hour zone. Cursing he slowed to a stop and waited for the officer to come to the window. His normal charm lacking as he rolled down the window. He didn't have time for this.

The exchange went quickly as the officer wrote him a expensive speeding ticket that would be placed in the trash later that day. Just as the man was about to head back to his motorcycle Dean called out in desperation, "Hey, you wouldn't have happened to pick up my younger brother have you? He's about your height and has dark brown hair…"

The officer paused, and turned around, "Eh, sounds like the kid that sheriff caught shoplifting last night. Should still be at the jailhouse as far as I know."

Dean felt relief creep through his limbs. Something was finally going right. "Thanks!"

He wasted no time pulling away from the curb after getting some quick directions. The Impala putting on a burst of speed as soon as he was out of the police officer's sight. In no time Dean was out of the car and pounding up the steps of the red bricked building. A surprised looking sheriff greeted him from behind the counter. Wasting no time Dean spoke up immediately. "Hey, I was told that you had my brother here for shoplifting, can I see him?"

For a moment the man looked confused before replying, "Ah, your parents already came to pick him up with your other brother. You people traveled separately or something?"

Dean paled, no no no… Harry had Sammy.