Okay... I know I said maybe mid-week. Woops. I know what you're thinking. How do I sleep at night? Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope you like it!

For some reason, Sam didn't do anything. He froze, like a deer in the headlights, as the door opened slowly.

Sam closed his eyes, waiting for it- whatever it was. Probably painful, he thought.

"Sammy?" The fifteen year old snapped his eyes open.

"Dad?" John rushed to his son and checked him head to toe.

"You okay?" He grabbed his son's wrists and checked the cuts on his arms. Sam nodded earnestly, more worried about his brother than himself.

"What happened, Sam? Where are-"

"Dad." Sam tried to capture his dad's attention but the man was too distracted.

"Josh did this. I swear when I-"

"Dad!" John finally stopped speaking.

"They took Dean."

..ooOOoo..

"I swear if you guys touch another hair on Sam's head I will kill you all you sonuvabitches and you won't even see it coming I swear I'll make it slow and-"

"Shut up." The man growled, jostling Dean harder as he dragged him out the back door and through the drizzle of the late night rain. His ankle was killing him and by now he was sure it was more than a sprain.

Dean eyed the makeshift shed hidden in the brush and overgrown foliage of the yard.

Yep, Dean figures he knows where he's heading.

..ooOOoo..

"Okay, Sammy, can you walk?" Sam nodded, his eyes drooping in exhaustion.

"Okay, son, we're almost out of here. We just need to find your brother, okay?" John tried to mask his panic, the thought of finally finding one son only to lose another. It was killing him.

..ooOOoo..

"In here." The man shoved Dean roughly into the dark room. The 19 year old fell to the floor, twisting on his side to avoid hitting his face on the dirt, his hands still tied.

"Let's finish this," The man smirked, cocking his gun.

..ooOOoo..

John thought maybe- just maybe- they were home free. He should've known better.

The hunter was cautiously helping a limping Sam through the house when two men came out holding guns.

John pushed Sam behind himself and pulled out his own gun to face the two men, but they weren't aiming at him.

"Put the gun down or the boy dies." Josh said grimly.

John had no choice. He dropped his gun slowly and carefully behind him, making sure Sam watched.

Thinking quickly, Sam dropped to his knees and grabbed the gun, pointing it immediately at Josh himself.

"Don't try anything." He snarled, turning to Josh's brother. "Whatever you guys did to my brother, you're going to pay." He cocked the gun. "Right now."

The shock of the blow caused both Sam and the man to fly back. The bullet hole between the brother's eyes seeped as Josh dropped his gun and crawled over helplessly towards his dying brother.

Sam watched in horror as the blood surrounded the brothers. He'd done this. He'd caused this. Josh looked up at him with hatred in his eyes like Sam had never seen before.

Behind the revengeful adrenaline causing his heart to beat wildly he felt guilt and sympathy, because he'd just killed a little brother.

That could be him there, with Dean shaking his shoulders.

John gave the man a few seconds with the body before promptly knocking him out.

..ooOOoo..

"Y-you don't wanna do this." Dean was glad Sammy wasn't here to see him like this. Begging. Hunters weren't supposed to do it at all. It shows weakness.

But Dean wasn't trying to be weak. He would let them kill him- he really would. As long as he knew Dad, Bobby, and especially Sam were safe first.

"Ha. Yeah, right." He raised the gun and Dean shut his eyes in anticipation.

Click.

Click. Click. "Dammit." The man growled, pulling out his handgun. "One of these days my gun'll be loaded when it needs to be."

..ooOOoo..

"Thank God!" John sighed as Bobby came back down the stairs. He looked on curiously as John finished pushing the furniture back in front of the closet door, on the other side of which happened to be an unconscious Josh.

"Will you take Sam out to the car?" John asked Bobby, motioning to the boy nodding off despite his best efforts to stay awake. That kid was exhausted. And hurt.

"I stitched up his wrists." John nodded to the fresh bandages. "They had a first aid kit."

Bobby nodded and started to help Sam up. When he realized where the older hunter was trying to take him, he stopped in his tracks.

"No." He stated adamantly. "I'm going with you guys to find Dean."

John opened his mouth but Sam wasn't done. "Does anyone know him better than me?" He questioned. "Do you?"

John knew there was no way around this. "Fine." He turned to head back upstairs, gun in hand but-

"Wait!" Sam exclaimed. "Has anyone checked out back yet?"

..ooOOoo..

Dean knew he had to fight back. He'd just been waiting for the right moment. Quickly, he kicked out his feet, hearing a crack as he came in contact with a knee.

Yelling in pain, the man dropped his gun and clutched his knee. As he bent over, Dean kicked upwards and the hunter's head snapped back viciously.

Using his foot to drag the gun to himself, Dean shouted for help.

"Sam!"

..ooOOoo..

Sam took of racing through the backyard when he heard the familiar voice, despite his lack of weapons, the agonizing pain in his side, and his father's terrified voice behind him.

"Dean!" He called back. "Dean!" He stumbled over a root and fell, stifling the pain when he looked up to see the slightly faded roof of a small shack in the tree line.

"Dad! Over here!"

..ooOOoo..

Dean used the wall to get to his feet and face the split-lipped enemy.

He managed a half exasperated, half gleeful sound of triumph. Until the man pulled out a knife.

..ooOOoo..

Sam crashed awkwardly through the door and saw Dean.

"Dean..."

The older brother smiled. "Hey, Sammy."

John rushed in, followed by Bobby. "You best put that knife down." Bobby threatened.

"You wish." He snarled, and lunged at the nearest person- John. The father was too busy with his sons to notice and Bobby had no choice.

The shot rang out loud and clear over the drone of the rain.

..ooOOoo..

John reached for the bloody knife lying a few feet away and freed Dean's rope burned wrists.

The nineteen year old held out his arms and smothered his younger brother, the rasping sobs of the youngest breaking through the white noise of the downpour and the silence of the two older men.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean whispered. "I'm okay." Sam nodded and tried not to look like quite the fool as he sobbed uncontrollably into his brother.

His face against the cold amulet around Dean's neck, Sam could feel the eyes of the older hunters.

He didn't care if they saw him cry. Because he was hurting. Because Dean was hurting. Because he'd killed a man at fifteen.

Poor Sam! If you liked it, please review. I'll attempt to update soon. No promises. ;)