Author's Note: I'm sorry for the delay :( As I've mentioned before, RL has been going bonkers lately and I haven't been able to concentrate on this fic. I had the end of it written last week, but my beta yelled at me and said it was too rushed. (I had to agree with her.) So...now I have a total of 11 chapters instead of 10, and I've re-worked the whole thing between Sam and Slendy's brother.

I hope you enjoy. Please remember to let me know what you think. Chapter 11 will go up VERY shortly. It's all edited, but my beta pointed something out that needs to be tweaked. As soon as I can work that out, I'll have it posted.

Warning: Please review the original warnings at the beginning of Chapter 1 before reading the August 30th, 2002 flashback. Nothing is graphic, but I wanted to warn you.

*CHAPTER 10*

…August 29, 2002…

Dean was weakening. He stumbled through the forest, pressing forward against the pelting rain. The blood loss and lack of sustenance was wearing on him. He had thumbed his cell phone open several times, checking for reception, but there was none. The last time he had done so, the device finally went dead, the battery giving up whatever ghost it had had in the first place. He had no choice but to keep moving and cross his fingers he'd make it out of this more in one piece than not.

He hadn't seen him since the wee hours of the morning, but Dean jumped at every shadow, every movement caught from the corner of his eye. Between the overcast sky and the thick foliage up above keeping what little light there was out, he'd had plenty of false starts. Once or twice, Dean was positive he'd seen him looming in the near distance.

The creature's last words echoed in his head as he hunched his shoulders and continued to trudge on through the never-ending line of pines, maples, oaks, birches, and what have you.

"You cannot run, my hunter. You cannot hide. I will always know where to find you."

Somewhere around what Dean could only guess was late afternoon, he had taken shelter under a low, rocky overhang; it wasn't quite a cave, but close enough. (It would at least get him out of the rain for a little while.) He'd had to take off his boots; his socks were soaked and his feet were swollen and aching from the non-stop miles of walking. A steady stream of water cascaded down the wall at his back. Where it touched the ground, it ran in a small rivulet off to Dean's left and followed a cleft in the rock down to a shallow pool. Dean was thirsty and he eyed the shimmering puddle, tongue darting out subconsciously to wet his lips, but he wasn't sure if he was desperate enough yet to start drinking rainwater…close, but not quite.

All he had to do was wait this out until his dad found him; Dean was sure he would. John Winchester could find the needle in a field full of haystacks if he had to. And when the elder Winchester found him, Dean knew he was going to have some explaining to do. He didn't like the thought, but he'd cross that bridge when he got there.

As he waited the storm out, Dean peeled out of his water-logged t-shirt so he could inspect his injuries. They were red and mean-looking; it was sheer luck that the one just below his kidney hadn't taken out anything internally. If it had, he was sure he'd be long dead by now. Slendy had lashed out at Dean with surprising accuracy; there was a surgical-like precision which even impressed the hunter. If he lived through this, he'd have a few new scars to tell stories about…or not.

Each one of his wounds had been in-and-out. The wet weather had kept them from scabbing over properly and a thin sheen of crimson shone below each one on his pale, freckled skin. If Dean was going to be honest with himself, they were all going to need stitches.

He looked down at the wet shirt beside him on the ground; the thing was trashed. (Another favorite t-shirt destroyed by some creature. He seriously needed to stop wearing them.) Dean picked it up and started tearing thin lengths of material off the bottom. He needed something to bind his injuries and it was all he had. When he was done dressing his wounds the best he could, Dean tugged the remainder of his shirt back down over his head being careful not to strain too much.

With a heavy sigh, the hunter looked back out into the gray and dreary forest; the torrential downpour had finally let up some. Now it was just a steady and depressing drizzle. He debated on whether or not to continue to make his way through the trees or stay put. They always said if you were lost, you should stay in one place. But Dean wasn't lost; that line of thought didn't quite apply to him. If anything, he should keep moving. A moving target was much harder to take out than one that sat there stupidly waiting for the hit.

Pressing his thumb and forefinger into closed eyelids, he tried to rub away the sting of weariness. He'd gotten two, maybe three, hours of sleep last night and it was wearing on him. As he rubbed his hands over his face, he mumbled into his palms, "This so fucking sucks, man."

Dean began to wonder what would have happened if he had just played it out with Slendy instead of trying to take out the creature like some amateur hunter rushing in with no clue what he was doing. Dean was better than that. At worst, he might have been able to walk away with a few grim pictures of people dying or something, half of which he wasn't even sure were real – he'd long gotten over freaking out about them, even the ones of Sam; Dean had seen a hell of a lot worse working jobs with his father – or maybe a few bruises or some annoying taunting or threats…the usual bullshit.

Yeah, maybe he'd lost it a little bit, but, dammit, Sam had walked away. Dean had been just slightly on the side of messed up and it was purely bad timing; he'd let his emotions get the better of him. Was that what had drawn the Thin Man to him this time? Sam walking out was nowhere near as tragic as their mom dying, but it had felt like someone had reached into Dean and had torn away a piece of him when he'd watched Sam walk down that dirt road. It had felt like the end of Dean's world.

Now that Dean gave it some thought, as he'd gotten older, Slendy's appearances seemed to coincide with highly emotional times in his life. If that was true, this one took the cake.

Dean was pulled from his ponderings when a shadow shifted in his peripheral vision. The movement came from just outside the lip of the shallow overhang, but even as close as he was to it, Dean couldn't see its source. Quietly, the hunter slipped his boots back on and shifted to move farther back into the protection of the cave.

His eyes followed the movement of the dark shape on the ground and his breath caught in his throat when he blinked and suddenly saw a pair of shiny dress shoes. Shit. Slenderman had found him.

Dean's mind had no sooner made the connection before one of the creature's razor-edged tentacles looped into the cave, blindly reaching out for him. He managed to dodge it and grunted when the back of his head collided with the rough stone surface above him. – Dean was just over six feet and the cave was maybe five feet if he was lucky. – Another of Slenderman's deadly appendages followed the first and, between the two of them, they had masterfully herded Dean into a corner.

"Dean, I told you, you can't hide. Now come out, child. It is time for your lesson."

"Yeah, I don't think so," Dean said as he tried to slip past the snake-like coils and escape from the other end of the overhang. When an opening appeared, he decided to make a break for it.

Dean looked over his shoulder as he slipped away; there were three more of the tentacles seeking him now. He smirked as he turned and…stumbled directly into something – or someone – that felt just a little too familiar. The hunter immediately reversed his course and backpedaled away from the towering creature as it watched him.

"You cannot run."

Well, Dean tried anyway.

He grunted after several steps when something impacted sharply with the center of his back, throwing him from his feet and onto the ground. A sudden numbness spread through him and then, as his nerve endings began to catch up with what was going on, it turned into a white-hot pain. It flared through his chest and wrapped around him, encompassing him. As his body began to fall, Dean felt another tearing pain in his left side.

When he looked down, his watery eyes caught sight of the two lengths of dark flesh protruding from his torso, one in the vicinity of his diaphragm and one just above his left hip. As his body buckled beneath him, Dean thought for sure that he was dead – might have even hoped so for a split second – but the thunderous pounding of his heart raging in his chest told him otherwise. He should've known Slenderman wouldn't be so kind.

"Mine."

Dean's world went dark.

…August 30, 2002…

It was just past midnight, but Dean had no way of knowing that; the full moon overhead lent an eerie glow to the forest around him. He blinked his eyes and tried to move, but found that he couldn't. He lay spread-eagle on the cool forest floor, wrists and ankles bound tightly to what he could only assume were four stakes nailed securely into the ground.

Slenderman hadn't killed him; the pain and stiffness from his two latest injuries reminded him only too well of that. The 'why' of it concerned him a bit as he twisted in his bindings; there was no give and they held tight. "Son of a bitch!" Dean lifted his head to see what options might be open to him. "No… C'mon!"

Dean had been stripped of his clothing; he was as naked as the day he was born. And his nemesis was standing a few paces away from him down near his feet.

His mind reeled in panic when something he'd read years ago surfaced in his mind. Oh, fuck, no! The realization caused Dean to pull harder at the ropes holding him down, so much so that they cut into his skin and blood began to slick the thick, coarse fibers. "This is so wrong. You touch me, I'll really kill you next time!"

Slenderman's head tilted, but he didn't disappear. Instead, he moved out of the still shadows, pale face catching in the moonlight. It was the first time Dean had ever seen the creature actually do something resembling human movement as it reached up and loosened its tie from around its neck.

"I warned you, Dean," it said as it walked up to Dean's shoulders and stooped down. "You are mine…a fact which I intend to remind you of." A cold finger ran up Dean's neck, teased lightly over his lips.

Dean squirmed under the icy and too-intimate touch, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it. "Fuck you!" he cursed as he doubled his efforts to escape, ignoring the pain shooting through his torso as his wounds reopened. Because what he knew was coming was much, much worse than a little blood.

"Oh, in due time, my child." Slenderman hissed quietly as he stood up once more and dropped his red silk tie to the ground beside Dean's head.

...September 9, 2002…

In the distance, Dean thought he could hear the steady beeping of machines; the familiar smell of antiseptic tickled at his nose. Before he even opened his eyes, he knew he was in a hospital. He had survived; his father must have found him. What that meant, Dean didn't want to think about.

It took effort to climb out of the comforting embrace of medicated unconsciousness. His eyelids felt heavy and when he finally prized them open, Dean squinted against the glare of the fluorescent lights. Why did hospitals always feel the need to use such goddamned bright lights? Dean groaned. His body ached all over, but the feeling was lessened somewhat by what he could only guess was a shitload of meds coursing through his system.

"Dean?" his father's gruff but broken sounding voice could be heard above the machines.

"Dad?" The word was rasped out from an overly dry throat.

"Yeah, it's me, son. – Hold on." Dean could hear the man moving around and then he was back; a reassuring hand was placed on his shoulder before a cup was brought up to his lips. "Drink some of this."

Dean followed the order and he drank the ice cold water down greedily. When he was done, the elder Winchester took the cup away and set it down somewhere Dean couldn't see.

"What the hell happened out there?" John Winchester: always to the point.

Dean didn't answer. Instead, he closed his eyes again. A lone tear escaped, unbidden, from the corner of his eye and rolled down his cheek. He couldn't tell his dad what had happened; no one would know…ever.

Dean didn't think he could be broken, but if he wasn't, he didn't know what else to call this.

…Present Day…

"What?" The heated anger that had boiled up in Sam suddenly dissipated and the tenseness in his body fell away. "How do you expect me to help you? I don't even know where they are."

The creature shifted and leaned up against a tree. The 'happy' seemed to have fallen by the wayside for now; his words were serious as was his expression. (Well, really, the only thing that changed in its features was that it was no longer smiling; its eyes remained unchanging and dark.) "If you would just calm down and breathe, I will explain."

"But Dean-" Sam was curious about what the being had to say, but he needed to get to Dean before something happened to him. Too much time had already gone by. With every second that passed, the man could be suffering.

"He is okay for the moment." At Sam's perplexed look, the creature tried to explain. "My brother has no true power over Dean right now because your brother has forgotten. Because he has forgotten, he no longer fears."

Forgotten what? How was Dean okay if his memory was gone? Sam's mind flooded with worst case scenarios; head trauma and permanent memory loss were at the top of the list. "What happened to him?" he finally forced himself to ask.

"The journey into our world is, for lack of a better word, difficult for one of your kind without the proper preparation. But I promise you, he will be fine given time."

The words 'our world' were the only thing that registered. "The mirror… You mean the forest I saw…"

"Is not part of this world," the sentence was finished for him.

Shit. Sam glanced up at the Operator symbol on the tree. Could that even reach Slenderman across the lines of two worlds?

"Stop looking at that. It will not help you…or your brother. – Our kind can answer the summons, but we can also choose not to. I assure you, my brother will not be answering your call. He has no interest in you other than to use you as a way to break Dean." The hunter jumped when a rainbow-striped tentacle reached out over his shoulder and slashed at the carving, rendering it completely useless. "Your connection with your brother is strong; there is nothing more powerful than a blood bond. We can use that connection to locate him. – But in order to do so, you must trust me."

Sam knew nothing about this creature. He had no reason to trust it. The only thing he had was desperation. "Trust you? Seriously? How do I even know you're on my side?"

"I am not on your side" was the response.

The sky brightened overhead as dawn approached; small, unseen creatures began to stir as they awoke to the beginning of a new day. Dean was sitting on the ground, one leg outstretched in front of him, the other bent at the knee; his head rested against the 'wall' at his back. He was still just as clueless as he was when he first became aware of his surroundings. And he was growing restless.

He hadn't heard the disembodied voice since it had gone away. In a way, it was a relief, but it kept him guessing at his current situation. Whoever the voice belonged to had the advantage; that was obvious. He knew Dean…and apparently wanted him dead if Dean had heard him correctly. That, in and of itself, should be cause for concern, but the hunter didn't let it bother him. If the Winchesters had a nickel for every threat against their lives…

The grass Dean was sitting on was warm beneath him. (He could at least be thankful that it wasn't winter wherever this was.) As the sun breached the horizon, he saw that things were different here, brighter…sharper. The green of the leaves and grass was rich and vibrant, almost oversaturated; it took some time for his eyes to adjust to it. Dean's eyes watered when he looked up at the sky and he was thankful for the dense foliage for once.

For a while, he paced restlessly, and then he kept himself occupied by picking at the seemingly never ending supply of toadstools. Dean watched in frustrated fascination as they re-grew, one after the other. He must have picked hundreds and yet, for every one he picked, another grew back in its place. After that, Dean swore to himself that he'd never eat another mushroom again; he didn't care what Sam said.

A butterfly landed on the tip of his socked toe. It was the size of a small bird and, if Dean thought the flora was interesting, the fauna was something to behold. – Again, Disney came to mind. He wouldn't be surprised to see some Disney princess come skirting out of the trees singing. – The insect was brightly colored in an array of sapphire blues, deep violets, ruby reds, and golden yellows. The hunter wiggled his toe, sending the creature into the air again where it flew through the magical barrier that was keeping Dean imprisoned.

He had taken notice earlier that the mushrooms he uprooted could be tossed through to the other side as well. It seemed that Dean was the only thing the wall was impervious to. He let out a weighty sigh.

"Sam, dude, you better get my ass outta here before I die of boredom." He couldn't remember, but he hoped Sam knew where he was.

At the creature's admission, Sam tensed again and this time he drew his gun. If it wasn't on his side, then there was only one other side: not his.

"Who are you really?" he snapped out through clenched teeth, muscle flexing along his jaw and eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How do I know you're not him?"

It frowned at Sam. Something about its facial structure changed slightly, but before the hunter could discern what it was, it was gone.

"Do not insult me, human child," the being hissed, his voice carrying a threatening undertone. "Clearly, you do not know who I am."

"No. How would I?" Sam conceded as he kept his eyes locked on the creature, watching for any sudden movements; his finger remained lightly pressed against the trigger of his Taurus. "All I know is your 'brother' is a psychopath who's been torturing Dean for over twenty years. How do I know you're not just like him?"

"Let me fill you in and then we can get back to what's important." The being pushed off from the tree and his 'happy' came back. He took his top hat off and bowed deeply to Sam. Once he stood back up, he said, "Let me introduce myself. I am the Splendorman, Slenderman's half-brother, if I may." A laugh followed his words and he put the hat back on before he produced three balls – red, blue, and yellow – and began to juggle them. He spoke as he grew and stretched, throwing the spheres into the air as he did. "I am the one who likes to make children happy, deserving children that is. If they've done a kindness, I like to return the favor."

Sam looked on, almost forgetting the seriousness of the situation. The balls whizzed up into the air trailing colorful tails of light like little comets. After several tricky moves, Splendorman sent all three up at once and they each popped and sent fireworks exploding overhead, causing Sam to jump. Confetti rained down on him from high above.

"I am not my brother," it continued on as it shrank back down to a less intimidating height. Splendorman held two fisted hands up in front of him and balloons appeared from the white gloves, each drifting up and floating away as he released them. "You will not come to harm by me, Sam."

Smile falling away again, the creature began to explain to the hunter what was going on. "Slenderman, my brother," he shook his head sadly, "he has always been a bully. I can't 'fix' him, but I can try to keep him in line when he decides to 'play'."

"Well, you haven't exactly been doing a great job of it," Sam said as he thought of what had happened to Dean…and himself, and now Dean again.

The creature's eyes narrowed momentarily at Sam, causing the hunter to close his mouth. "It's not easy, certainly when he is so embedded in someone's mind as he is Dean's. But I stopped him three years ago, Sam, before he killed your brother. – I'm sorry I wasn't able to get there sooner...before things happened." Splendorman's expression changed to one of regret. "I tried, but the power he draws from Dean is too much at times; he was able to keep me away."

Splendorman had been there? Sam's arm was growing tired from holding his gun level with the creature in front of him and he lowered it.

Splendorman fell silent for a moment as he watched Sam's movement; the corner of his mouth twitched into a half-smile when he saw the hunter relaxing slightly. "I've been observing, trying to keep my brother in check since he first picked up on your family, back when Dean was just a small child…and you, an infant, the night your mother died."

Sam's brow lifted at that. "Then how come we've never seen you before?" He still couldn't help but be wary given his background as a hunter.

The Fae shrugged nonchalantly. "There was no need for it. – Do not mistake me as being Dean's savior; I am here for my own reasons. You and I, we just happen to have need of one another."

Not that he wasn't happy to have a little help, but Sam really needed to know. "If he's back in the realm of the Fae, why can't you just find him? Why do you need me, a lowly human? – And hell, why did he even bring Dean there in the first place, especially if it weakens their bond or whatever like you say?"

"Ah, so you know we are Fae? I congratulate you, Samuel Winchester, for getting so far." Splendorman's pleased clap was muffled by his gloves. "It's more than most have accomplished in eons. You've managed to put the pieces together. I should have known you would; you are such an inquisitive soul.

"The answer to your question is complicated. Something has happened recently and it has increased Dean's fear tenfold, making my brother more powerful. I need to find out what that 'something' is in order to get him under control again. We need to get to Dean while their bond is weak. And that is where you come in.

"Our realm is a place of enchantment; Dean can be in plain sight, but still be hidden from others. Your connection with your brother will help guide us to him. – As to why Slenderman has taken Dean there in the first place, I cannot be sure, but I think he fears you. Not only can you block him, but since you've figured out what we are, you also know our weakness; therefore, Dean does, or I should say, did until now. But most importantly, you are your brother's strength.

"Dean is weaker on his own, Sam. I know my brother, and he would be willing to risk a few hours or days – whatever it takes for Dean to gain back his memory…and his fear. I know not what his plan is for Dean at this time, but I would gather that it would not be good for any one of us if he accomplishes what he has set out to do."

A sudden thought occurred to Sam and his eyes darkened. It sounded a lot like Splendorman's personal well-being depended on taking out Slendy's power source: Dean.

Almost as if it had read his mind, the creature spoke up. "I am not the evil creature you are trying to build up in your mind, Sam. All I need to do is persuade Dean to let go of his fear; I only need a few minutes with him. As I said before, no harm will come to either you or your brother by my hand."

Sam wanted to laugh at that. Did Splendorman realize how stubborn Dean was? A few minutes? Hell, he might need hours. But it was something. If this creature could get Dean to let go, then it was worth the risk.

"What do I have to do?" he asked.

"We need to cross over, but first, you will need to let me in."

"Let you in…" Sam repeated. He knew what that meant and it unnerved him more than a little. It was the exact opposite of what he had been telling Dean to do. They had to take power away from these creatures, not give it to them. This Fae, whom Sam knew nothing at all about but what he'd been told, was asking him to give him that power.

The hunter swept his fingers through his hair in exasperation and then strode off ten feet back down the path behind him while he gave his situation some thought. After several minutes, he still had no idea what he was going to do. Sam turned around and walked back up to the being.

He wasn't comfortable at all with the idea. He still wasn't sure what this creature actually wanted. "What exactly are you going to do when we get there?" Sam asked.

Splendorman eyed the hunter. "I am not going there to kill my brother if that is what you are thinking." The being took its hat off and flipped it over. He reached in and pulled out a white hare. After giving it a few strokes across its back, he placed it back into the hat and put it back on.

Sam's eyes were drawn to the black top hat and then he looked back up and met Splendorman's gaze. "Then I'll do it," he said with heated conviction. He thought back to the journal pages detailing the injuries his brother had sustained at the hands of Slenderman. God, Dean had dealt with that all alone. Yeah, their father had clearly put it all together, but Sam knew neither man would have spoken to the other about it. Dean would have denied it and John would have looked the other way, also in denial. It didn't change anything though. Dean had been raped. "He's a monster."

This time, Sam did see the creature's face shift and change shape. What he saw caused him to back off a step or two and bring his gun back out. His aim was steady as the almost white skin darkened to a brownish-black and Splendorman's face twisted and elongated into a wolf-like visage; fangs flashed under the afternoon sun and its eyes shone a deep, bloody red. The tentacles that were normally kept hidden made their presence known over its shoulders, weaving and twisting. "Do not test me," it growled, voice low and deadly.

Sam swallowed tightly and steeled himself against the sudden fear that crawled under his skin at the sight of the creature in front of him. He was a hunter after all; he was trained not to show weakness. "Then I guess we're both on our own then." He took in a breath and turned on his heel, putting on a show of actually leaving. "Like you said, I'm inquisitive; I'll find another way." Sam was bluffing. Although he didn't want to admit it, he needed Splendorman.

Something vaguely resembling the soft jingle of a bell sounded behind Sam – it was the same sound he'd heard back at the room – and it caused him to still. He heard it again just as something – a tentacle – slipped around him and physically turned him around.

"Your love for your brother is strong." The creature studied Sam intently, head cocked with interest, as he released the hunter from his gentle, but firm hold, the long, snake-like appendage disappearing behind his shoulder. Splendorman was now back in his former, less frightening form.

Sam's brow creased at the sudden and unexpected change in Splendorman's mien. "I would give my life for him," he replied truthfully.

The being gave Sam's response some thought, and then, "I will not promise you anything, but I will do what I can."

It was enough for Sam. He nodded. "Thank you."

A smile lit up Splendorman's face at Sam's thanks. "Well," he said in an excited rush, "it's up to you when we leave, but I suggest we do it soon. As soon as Dean remembers, I'm afraid I can no longer be of help. It will be too late for all of us."

One thing kept Sam from jumping onboard immediately. "What about my memory? You said-"

"I will protect you, Sam. Now, if you are ready, we must not waste any more time." Splendorman opened his arms wide and beckoned Sam into them.

Sam felt what could only be considered a mental nudge; he hoped he wasn't making the biggest mistake of his life. He knew damn well if Dean was here, the man would rip him a new one for even considering what he was about to do.

"Yeah, okay." He stepped into the creature's embrace.

To be continued...