Sam awoke, and groggily opened his eyes, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. There was a single dim light in the centre of the room, failing at its task to illuminate the room. He pulled himself into a crouch, and immediately regretted it, when bile threatened to enter his throat. Steadying himself, he looked around; he was in a dusty looking empty room, with only one door, and no windows, probably used for some sort of storage. The.. cage would be the closest thing to it, that he was kept in was along the back wall, and split into three sections, the one too Sam's left was empty, but as he looked closer, he saw that the one on the right was not empty, and actually had a figure slumped in the corner with a bag on his head. He appeared to be handcuffed, and wasn't moving, but Sam hoped he was alive.

"Hey, err, bag guy!" Sam inwardly groaned, Bag guy? He was starting to sound like Dean. He could never tell Dean he said that, or he'd sound like a hypocrite when he called Dean unimaginative. He pulled himself closer to the chain links separating their cells. "Hey! Dude, you've gotta wake up!" He tried one more time, before settling himself against the back wall. Time to do an inventory, what did he have on him?

Bubble gum. A paper clip, and Sam felt something digging into the bottom of his shoe. A Nail, "Brilliant", he was in absolutely brilliant shape to attempt an escape.

In the cage next to him, NCIS Agent Timothy McGee stirred. What the hell was going on, his head was pounding. He tried to struggle through his memories, fight through the person who was clearly playing the bongos on the inside of his head and remember what happened. It felt like a hangover, but there was no sickness, and he didn't smell of Malibu, so it couldn't be that, and that's before you even count the fact that he didn't remember drinking. He attempted to open his eyes, and there was still blackness, he realised that something was covering his eyes; he tried to swat it away only to feel a searing pain in his wrist. Handcuffs. He was handcuffed, and his head hurting wasn't just a headache and, and... Why did he smell like sick? He coughed and tried to sit up, but his head swam and he felt Nauseous, so he settled back on to his side on the floor.

A voice floated out of nowhere, "Hey, are you awake? What do you know?"

McGee tried to respond "Mhrgghld-" He spluttered before going into a fit of coughing.

Sam scooted, roughly across the floor to the edge of the cell, "Come here, I'll try to pull the bag off", McGee seemed to understand, as he started to shuffle across the floor in the general direction of Sam's cell. It was a painstakingly long process, but when he finally heard the chain link fence rattle, as he bumped it with his head, he froze still. Sam threaded his fingers through the chain links, and gathered the fabric in his hands, slowly pulling the itchy fabric off of McGee's head. From under the bag, came a slightly chubby face, with disorientated green eyes to match his expression, and brownish blonde hair.
Sam recoiled as the smell of vomit hit his nostrils, and he removed the cloth that had caught in McGee's mouth. McGee managed to choke out "Thanks, I thought I was going to suffocate before-" he broke off, coughing vehemently, after managing to catch his breath back, and control his eyes' watering, he continued; "I thought I was going to suffocate before I got that out. Where are we? Who are you?"

Sam took a deep breath as he tried to think of the best way to answer him, he thought about thinking up some elaborate explanation but decided he probably needed an ally, so the truth was going to be the best way forward. He spoke quietly "I don't know where we are exactly, but I need to tell you something, and you're not going to like it." Sam thought of the best way to say it, then decided he could more or less replicate how Dean did it. "There are things out there, that you pretend don't exist, things that go bump in the night, ghosts, ghouls, demons.. Vampires" he spat the last word. "They're all real, and it's my job to hunt them, and right now, they've got us prisoner. Vampires." He added, when McGee opened his mouth, it closed again suddenly. As for who I am, you can call Me Sam."

McGee seemed to think upon this for a minute or two, before his face set on a weary, tired resolve, "I don't know if you're telling the truth, but as I have no idea how I got here, I'll believe you for now. You can call me Tim, Or McGee; I'm a special agent at NCIS. That's the Naval Criminal-"

"Investigative Service, I know." Tim looked surprised at that, Sam noticed, just as much as he knew McGee saw him flinch when he asked him for his last name. "Doing what I do, being a hunter, sometimes you have to break the law, so it doesn't do too well to tell you who I am, no offence" Sam quickly added.

The door burst open, and slammed into the back wall, McGee flinched, and fell onto his back, and scrambled to get back to the wall, whereas Sam turned on the balls of his feet even whilst crouching, ever ready to face danger, assessing, and reassessing everything his eyes landed on.

In the room strolled three men, dressed in Formal Naval uniforms, the leader, who easily as tall as Sam, and probably as wide with muscle as Dean was tall, stepped forward. "Well, well, well... what do we have here?"

"Spare us the clichés!" Sam groaned, why did these guys always have to be so melodramatic? "Let us go, because if you know who we are, you know what will happen to you when my partner gets here, and let me tell you, when he's mad, he's not very pretty."

"Sam, I know all about you and your pathetic excuse for a brother, and let me tell you, I'm not impressed. Yeah, I know who you are, a very reliable source told us who you were, and once we knew so much about you, it was easy, easy! To find where you were staying." Sam struggled to keep up for the first time in a long time, he was confused, 'someone told him about us..' he thought.

The tall, dark skinned male continued; "Enough about you, let me introduce myself, where are my manners? I'm –

"James Hewitt, you lead the platoon of the dead soldiers, we're going to find justice.." McGee trailed off, after catching a sharp look from Sam. The large soldier peered at him thoughtfully for a moment or two, and then burst out in laughter, clapping his hands in delight.

"Always a delight to be recognised" He grinned, "however, Timothy, I seem to have bested you, and your pathetic team of humans in locating the killers" He indicated at Sam with his head. Prompting a horrified look at him from McGee, who also scuttled backwards in his cage. "We're not too interested in the trial however, but more the retribution." He leered, walking towards the cages.

Dean Shouted again: "CAS! Get down here!" This time he didn't even flinch when he turned around and Cas was stood there.

"Is something wrong Dean?" Castiel asked, in his normal direct manner, and for once Dean wasn't going to correct him with his lack of pleasantries.

"Sam's gone goddammit!" Dean yelled, and Cas visually flinched at the words. "The vampires took him, and I need you to tell me where, so I can kill every last one of those sons of bitches!"

"I am nearly sure of their location Dean, however, we can't just charge straight in." Cas looked worried, which is the only thing that stopped Dean from hitting him at that moment in time. There are certain kinds of Magic protecting the area, magic as old as humanity itself, this worries me Dean, and I cannot support you in the fight, the Angel warding spells I located have been altered, They will allow my physical presence, however, my angelic powers will be stopped at the door, I will be vulnerable Dean. There aren't many beings with the power to do this, so before we attack, I'm going to do some research. Whoever has Sam will likely want to use him as bait, so he'll be safe for the time being, I suggest you use the time to find some allies of your own."

Dean was speechless as he gazed at Castiel, and his eyes only wavered for a millisecond at a shadow going past the window, however, it was enough for the angel of the lord to make his departure. He needed allies that were clued in and could get here in time, Bobby was the first one in mind, but he was the other side of the country. There was only one answer left, and if John was still alive he would have killed Dean just for suggesting it.

He needed NCIS.

You guys should kill me, I thought I posted this chapter weeks ago.

Anyway, the next chapter is more Dean central.