"Ritter's."

"Hey, Ron. It's Sam."

"Well, it's about time we hear something back from you two. Danny and I were just debating driving up there."

Sam smiled, but he didn't have the heart to laugh. "It's funny you should say that, actually."

Ron paused, "Trouble?"

"Yeah."

"What kind?"

"Big. I … uh … I hate to ask, Ron. But I need help."

"Say no more, Sammy. You need more than just me and Danny? Cause I can round up some friends."

His old friend's generosity never failed to amaze him, "No, just you two if you can spare a few days?"

"We can always clear the schedule for you and Dean, Sam. You should know that by now."

"I guess I do. I still feel bad asking. I know Danny would probably rather be anywhere else but up here."

"So, you've seen Jaime?"

"Yeah. Sweet girl, but … uh … she's in trouble, Ron."

Sam could feel Ron frowning through the line. "What kind of trouble? Jaime's okay, isn't she?"

At that question, Sam heard a muffled exclamation. Suddenly, Danny was on the line.

"Sam? What happened to Jaime?"

Sam cleared his throat, not wanting to scare his old friend, and not wanting to give him false hope either. "She, uh, she had a hell of a shiner last time I saw her, Danny. Said a horse gave her trouble, but judging by some of the stuff we've seen here, I'm pretty sure someone hit her."

Sam heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "I'll kill the bastard."

"Dean already offered, but, you know, she's … uh … covering for someone."

"Put Dean on the phone, Sam, please?" Sam could tell Danny was holding on by a single nerve.

Sam hesitated.

"Sammy?"

He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice.

"Sammy? Dean's okay, isn't he?"

"I …" Sam suddenly couldn't speak for the lump in his throat, and he heard Danny gasp again.

"Dad! Get on the extension. Something's really wrong."

Ron picked up, "Sam? What's going on?"

"Something happened to Dean, didn't it?" Danny guessed.

"They … uh … they got him."

"What!" Ron and Danny exclaimed as one.

"Got him how, son?"

"He's, uh, he's Guyver's new bodyguard, I think. Stands beside him on stage, looking lethal."

"You talk to him?"

"No, I … uh … I didn't get the … the chance. Just … he told me to leave and not come back."

Silence.

"Dean said that?" Danny asked disbelievingly, "To you?"

"Yeah. Jaime …" Sam's voice hitched.

"What about Jaime?"

"She was supposed to meet us for lunch, yesterday. She never showed. I never saw her after. Dean and Jaime, they disappeared at the same time."

Once he realized both boys were having trouble speaking, Ron took charge of the conversation. "Where are you, Sam?" He asked kindly.

"Uh, I'm at a motel outside of town - the Knightsbridge. Room 8."

"Okay, Danny and I will be on the road in two hours. Just stay put, okay?"

"Yeah, hey, uh … thanks, guys."

"Anytime, Sam. Now watch your back, okay? And wait for us before you go trying to get Dean back."

But Sam hung up before he had to honor Ron's request, knowing he was going back out there in an hour. In fact, he'd be at every tent service the asshole held until he had his brother back.

###

Sam walked into the tent, making no attempt to hide his appearance. The service was already in session, but Dean was nowhere to be seen. Sam stood in the back, not caring who saw him. He stood there for a good ten minutes, arms crossed, looking stony, until Guyver's eyes landed on him by accident. He saw the preacher falter and quickly recover. The man leaned over to William, who still stood on his left, and whispered instructions. Without looking at Sam, William nodded and stepped down off the stage.

Sam braced himself for a confrontation, but instead of coming toward him, William slipped out a side entrance and was gone.

The rest of the service went by without incident, and when the congregation moved forward at the end, Sam let himself be pulled along. He maneuvered himself next to Guyver and grabbed the man by the arm.

"Where's my brother?" He asked softly, giving the man a chance to cooperate.

But Guyver simply smiled, "Your brother has elected to join us in our mission, Sam. You should be very proud of him. He's been a wonderful asset to the movement.

Sam snarled. "That's not what I asked you. Where is he?"

But when the preacher's attention was suddenly drawn over Sam's left shoulder, a chill ran through the younger Winchester. He tried to spin around, but he felt the needle jab in his thigh a moment too late.

Sam turned to see William glaring down at him as the world turned dim. He heard the preacher's explanation.

"Step back, everyone, please. We have a sick man, here. Give him some room to breathe please. Guyver leaned over him in concern. "Son? Are you alright?"