Chapter 7: An Enemy Returns

Sam came around when water was splashed in his face. It ran down his chest, soaking his t-shirt and jeans. He shook his head as his sopping hair covered his bleary eyes. He was one big frayed nerve. Everything hurt. He was in a silent, dark room. He tried to peer into the darkness, wondering who threw the water, but the black was too deep to penetrate.

"What the hell is going on?" He rasped around his dusty, dry throat. "Who are you?" He tried to fight his bindings as sensation came back into his abused body. He was tied to a chair, with his hands behind his back. The bindings were tight, cutting into his wrists as he flexed to test the strength of the rope. He quieted and tried again to make out who his captors were. He could see nothing in the darkness but he did hear the rustle of clothing, and something else. A familiar whoosh-click. Switchblade. He swallowed hard. Demons had no need for a switch blade. Where the hell am I and who has me? Where's Dean?

"Where's my brother?" Silence. "Where's Dean?" Nothing. "Who are you?" He heard footsteps and rustling clothing. He could barely make out a figure in the darkness and a fist flying at his face. The blow was enough to snap his head sideways.

"Guhhh." Sam sucked in a sharp breath. He saw stars, blackness crouching at the edges of his vision. He felt the blade press against his Adam's apple. He forced himself not to breathe or swallow as he felt blood trickle down his neck. The knife was pulled away and Sam sucked in a breath. He was punched again, receiving a split lip and a broken tooth from the fist that attacked him. He spit blood from his mouth as his head lolled on his shoulders. He tried to breathe through the pain, not giving them the satisfaction of even a whimper. He opened his eyes and glared into the darkness.

"Who are you? I know you're not the demon. Demons aren't afraid to show themselves when they have the upper hand." Sam used psychology on the person holding him captive, trying to get some clue as to who they were. Still nothing. Sam peered into the darkness, trying to see something he could use his telekinesis on. It was too black. He couldn't make anything out.

"Where's my brother?" The only thing he got in answer was another punch. He felt his right eye swelling shut immediately as pain rocketed through his skull. He tried to heal his injuries but found his mind too foggy from the trauma to concentrate. The knife was pressed against his throat again. As he stilled, waiting for the slash, He tried to reach out mentally. To Kira, to Dean. He didn't know if it would work. He was still having difficulty getting his pain filled brain to function. The knife moved away.

"What do you want?" He asked quietly. The only response was a whispered laugh and a needle being thrust into his neck.

"Ahhh! What is that? It burns." God. He felt himself surrendering to the pain in his blood and the beckoning darkness. His head slumped to his chest as unconsciousness claimed him again.

Bobby was walking around the remains of the mansion. He caught some faint impressions in the grass and dirt at the edge of the drive way. He saw where something large was laid down on the grass. Not knocked down, more like picked up and placed on the ground, almost gently. There was a small amount of blood in the imprint. Sam's blood. Bobby wondered how badly the boy was hurt and if he managed to heal himself. He also noticed two sets of tire tracks. One belonged to the Impala; he'd known where it sat when he and Kira had first pulled up. The other set stopped close to where the other imprint was on the ground. He then saw two drag marks leading from the imprint across the tire tracks that suddenly ended. He studied the two drag marks and he knew he recognized them. Heel marks. Sam was the large object that made the imprint in the grass. He was then picked up under the arms and dragged to the passenger side of a car.

Someone had Sam and it definitely wasn't a demon. Bobby studied the tire tracks once more. There was something familiar about them. Something he remembered from a long time ago. He just couldn't place it.

He went back to the motel. Kira let him into the room. Dean was asleep.

"Hey Bobby. Did you find anything?"

"Yeah. I think so." Bobby walked over to the bed. He jostled Dean's shoulder. "Dean?"

Dean jumped, coming fully awake. "Bobby, what is it?" He sat up, only wincing slightly.

"The demon doesn't have Sam. People do. I went back to the mansion. I saw tire tracks and marks in the grass. Sam was drug into a car. I think the demon had something to do with it though because one of the impressions was Sam's body being laid out on the grass, almost like it floated."

"That would explain how he was taken from the basement without any tracks or drag marks." Kira said.

"Yeah, probably."

"What person would want to hurt Sam? Who would work with a demon to take him?"

Bobby and Dean exchanged a long look, light bulbs coming on in their minds.

"Gordon Walker!" they said in unison.

"That SON-OF-A-BITCH! I knew I shoulda killed his ass the last time I caught the bastard hunting Sam. This time I won't make that mistake." Dean was fuming. He pushed himself to his feet and half-limped, half-paced across the room, running his hand over his short spiky hair.