Chapter Eight.

When Sam next opened his eyes, the dull light of early morning was starting to seep in through the drapes and instantly he was wide awake, disbelieving at having gone to sleep in the first place and wondering exactly when he had.

His door was still wide open and as the floorboard outside it creaked underfoot, he squeezed his eyes shut again in pretence, heart pounding hard like it had the first morning he'd woken there. Suddenly he didn't want to see, speak to or even hear the people who were supposed to be his 'family.' Unluckily for him however, not hearing them was not an option.

"He sleepin'?" came Isaac's harsh if hushed whisper. Belle obviously nodded back an affirmative.

"Like a baby."

There was a pause in which Sam could hear them both breathing heavily, then finally Isaac spoke up again, this time sounding a little hesitant.

"I think – I think maybe Jacob suspects something," in the silence that met his sentence he hurried to explain himself further, "What with that music last night and the pig downstairs he – ,"

"We'll deal with the pig in a minute," It was said quickly and firmly, a hint of pleasure creeping into the tone as Belle smiled, "That way he won't be around to mess with Jacob's head anymore," she tutted sadly, "My poor boy. So confused."

"What if the rest of the law come looking for him?"

Belle's voice hardened again.

"They won't find any trace of him here."

"But Jacob – ,"

"Jacob will do as we tell him. He's ours. He will do what's best for the family."

The sentence made Sam's heart lurch from under the covers. Do his best for the family? That was all very well, but which family? Everything he knew – which didn't seem like much at that point – told him to trust the woman and her son, but did he really come from a family that thought so little of killing intruding lawmen? Did he really see himself having come from such people? And what about the lawman, or was it salesman? Either way, what about this Dean character? He was a complete stranger and yet something about him seemed so sincere that Sam instantly wanted to trust him over his own family…or, those he believed were his own family. It was all so messed up.

He stopped thinking when his head began to spin, just in time to hear Belle's final sentence.

"Come on. We'll take him out back and shoot him."

"Like a dog!" Isaac chuckled sadistically. Belle's voice was tight.

"Like a pig."

Apparently that was her favourite phrase.

The pair left, their departure signalled as much by Isaac's wild giggling as by the creak of the rickety old floorboards. As soon as their feet hit the bottom step, Sam was up and out of bed, still fully dressed from the night before and full of a strange purpose – he needed to check out the basement. If, and only if he found something, he needed to do it before they shot Dean…the F.B.I Agent…salesman…whatever he was.

Belle and Isaac had beaten him to the kitchen already and as he crept down into the landing, avoiding the creaky floorboard on the last step, he heard them greet their prisoner with the sickly sweet tones that now seemed to send a shiver down Sam's back.

"Well, well," the older woman sang softly, her tone sounding strangely amused, "What's this? Trying to escape, filth?"

Dean's tone now sounded heavier, tired, pained even, although mercifully no less acerbic,

"Thought I'd skip breakfast this morning. Save you the trouble."

"Oh, it's no trouble," she sang back at him darkly, nobody in the room noticing as Sam inched his head around the door-frame just in time to see Belle lean over and snatch something out of Dean's hands and hold it up to the light. The sight of it made her chuckle, less wildly than Isaac but just as disturbing, "So, you found yourself something half-way sharp did you pig," she grinned, bending over the back of the chair to yank up Dean's hands forcefully. Sam winced at the pain that flashed across the face as Dean's shoulders were wrenched the wrong way, the lips stifling a curse.

"Son of a – ,"

Belle cooed sympathetically as she examined the ropes, letting the hands fall back quickly and leaning in close to talk to him,

"Starting to cut through nicely there. Must have taken you hours,"

Dean shrugged,

"Well you're a little starved for entertainment round here so I decided to make my own."

From out of nowhere, Isaac suddenly hit him hard about the head. Again. The smile spreading as yet more muttered curses spilt from between Dean's clenched teeth.

"I wouldn't worry about that now," Belle consoled, running her hand between his shoulder blades, "You're about to have bigger concerns."

She crossed the kitchen in several short steps, turning so suddenly that Sam had to dive back against the wall to avoid being seen. Somewhere within the room a drawer scraped open and Belle drew out something heavy, turning to point it in Dean's direction with a click.

Sam didn't need to look to know what it was.

"Isaac," Belle commanded, suddenly harsh, "Get him off that chair and keep him tied. He so much as sneezes between here and the barn I'm putting holes in him."

There was the sound of scrabbling and then a grunt from Dean. Sam stood backed up against the wall out of sight, listening as the back door squeaked open and boots clattered out onto the porch. He took his chance. Keeping low he dived into the kitchen, ducking under the windows as the family procession crossed the yard away from the house, allowing him to swing open the door to the basement and pound hurriedly down the steps. It wasn't until he realised what it was that he was rushing to see that he slowed down, suddenly apprehensive and wishing he'd brought a torch to see through the dimly-lit gloom.

His feet hit the earth of the floor sooner than he'd anticipated, and he stumbled against the change in terrain, staggering forward in the half-light and nearly falling altogether as the ground rose up suddenly before him, the toe of his shoe disappearing into a mound of dirt as he put his hands down to brace himself.

His heart began to beat rapidly as he pushed himself upright once more, brushing the soil from his hands and frowning into the gloom.

What was a mound of earth doing in the middle of the basement?

He swallowed with difficulty, forcing down what he hoped was only a lump in his throat and not something more reactionary altogether.

From the vague light that cast down from the open door to the kitchen, Sam could begin to make out other shapes besides the one before him, his slowly adjusting eyes picking up a pattern of rising and falling ground, each roughly the same length and width. Four in all.

He took a disbelieving step back, suddenly unwilling to be so close to such a scene of horror, starting as something thudded to the ground behind him, knocked loose. He spun at once to pick it up, a shovel, covered in dirt and…he held it closer to the light, his stomach flipping over completely and forcing the bile further up his throat as he battled to control his emotions.

It was blood. Dull, rust-coloured and not exactly new, but blood none the less.

He dropped it instantly, wiping his hands frantically against his shirt as if somehow sheer contact with the gruesome scene had made him unclean, had infected him with something.

Which meant…which meant that somehow, in some warped and unthinkable way, Dean Winchester had been right. Right about his family and right about the mother and brother who were at that moment heading off to shoot him.

Abruptly Sam turned and ran for the steps, vaulting them two at a time. He had no idea what he was going to do once he got to the barn, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try. Something inside him propelled him on, a sense of retribution and action he didn't know he was capable of before realising that, just because Jacob hadn't been capable of such bravado, didn't mean Sam Winchester wasn't.

It was a thought that spurred him on.

Until, that was, the thunderous sound of a shot echoed across the yard, making him grind to a halt in the dirt, wide eyes on the closed doors of the barn before him.

He was too late.

"No!"


Talk about cliffhangers huh? Cruel but had to be done!

Thanks to all those still sticking around with it, and putting up with my 'newness' to this particular fictional realm (with hopefully more offerings to come). Still, I enjoyed writing this…it's been too long since I did any!

The end is nearly in sight but I hope you'll still review and made me smile! Until tomorrow…