Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts

Dean is 21, almost 22. Sam is 17. (NOT WINCEST!!!)

Okay, I'm reminding you guys and myself... SAM IS SEVENTEEN!! As I'm writing this, I'm noticing that I'm picturing him as like a 12-14 year old, which is wrong. He is SEVENTEEN! If you guys are also picturing Sam younger, Try to keep in mind he's almost an adult XD It makes the writing more powerful in my opinion ;)

Thank you for all of your support guys! I know it's been a long time since I've updated and I apologize! I hope this chapter makes up for it!

Enjoy chapter ten!

Sam stared at the map, a finger on his location and another on his destination. It was only about a mile away, which would be a couple minute drive. However, evaluating the car again, Sam knew he wouldn't be able to drive it. He was one healthy leg short to driving a stick.

He continued to stare at the map, his mind locked in the idea of walking there. Of running into people, of everyone that'll see him, label him a freak, punish him...

He looked from beginning to end, trying to determine the shortest, most isolated route. After several minutes, Sam breathed a sigh of relief when he found the perfect route. Half a block from the motel, there were woods. If he followed the road, he'd eventually be in the backyard of 7382 Woodshire lane.

Folding up the map, Sam quickly made sure he had everything of value with him. Dean's pistol, their dad's journal, Dean's jacket and the Impala keys...

Sam took a deep breath. His leg was still twinging, but the pain had mostly abated at this point.

For the sake of the journey ahead of him, he was grateful. He wrapped an arm around himself as he reached for the doorknob and stepped outside. He took another deep breath, before heading towards the woods.

---

"You son of a bitch!" Dean yelled as he pulled on the chains.

The cloaked figure smiled. "So your daddy told you who I am?"

"I swear I'm gonna rip you from the inside out," Dean growled.

The figured laughed. "Now that would be an interesting sight." He tapped the still-full water bottles with his foot and tsked. "You haven't drunk your water." He looked at the Winchesters and sighed. "Oh well. It gives me an excuse." He raised a hand and both the Winchesters were flung back against the wall. They tried to break free of the demon's hold, but it was completely in vain.

"While Sammy is taking his 'test', I'm gonna have some fun." He walked up to Dean and grasped his chin. "What do you wanna play, Deanie boy?"

Dean scoffed. "Go screw yourself."

The demon shrugged. "Suit yourself." He pressed his fingers tighter against Dean's face. Dean frowned before he let out a loud scream.

"Dean!" John yelled. He jerked uselessly against the demon's hold. "Let go of him you bastard!"

Dean blinked hard, willing his involuntary tears to go away, but the pain wouldn't allow it. It seemed as though a hot dagger was being driven into his head and twisting painfully slow...

---

Eric grumbled as he struggled to unlock the door of his car. He was carrying three bags of groceries, but didn't want to set them down because they were paper bags and the ground was wet from the recent shower.

"Stupid car, stupid groceries, stupid – " Eric stopped in his small rant as a small whimper came from behind him. He dropped the keys in surprised and turned around. "Who's there?"

There was some harsh breathing, but no other noises. Thinking it was a dog, Eric put the groceries down, screw the rain!, grabbed his keys and quickly opened the car door. He quickly placed the bags inside and was about to go sit in the driver's seat when he heard a small plea.

"Please… 'M sorree…"

Eric frowned. Last he knew, dogs didn't make noises like that. "Hello?" he called. He frowned when he heard a small gasp and a shift of clothing. Curiosity taking over, he closed the door to his car and slowly walked towards the source of the sounds.

Tucked between a garbage can and the wall of a store, a young man, no older than eighteen, was curled up. His leg twisted to the side, his hands clutching his heads desperately. "Hey, you okay?"

The kid didn't respond. Instead he continued to whimper and clutch his head.

"Are you hurt?" Eric sighed when the boy remained as he was. He flipped out his cell. "I'm calling 911…"

"N-no…"

Eric looked at the boy in surprise. He was looking up at him now, his eyes glassy and full of pain and fear.

"N-not… back…"

Eric frowned as he shut his cell. "Alright. Kid, can you tell me what's wrong?"

Sam looked at the man in front of him carefully. He didn't feel like he wanted to punish him… why? Why was he trying to help him? Sam cringed and grabbed is head again as sharp pain shot through his skull.

Eric was at a loss for words. The kid was obviously in pain, but he didn't want to go to the hospital. Seemed desperate not to go to the hospital. Eric sighed. He looked at the kid again and bit his lip. "Can you tell me where you live?"

Sam looked up at the man through tear-filled eyes. "St-top…" he begged.

"What?"

"St-toooop… hur-urting him…" Sam sobbed.

Eric shook his head and stood. He just didn't know what to do. As he turned to leave the young man behind, he heard a small plea.

"7… 38… 2… Wood… shire…"

Eric turned around with wide eyes. "What?"

Sam looked at the man pleadingly. He didn't seem to mean harm. But even if he did, if there was just a small chance that he could help Sam get to Dean… "Pl-lease…"

Eric had a questioning expression as he slowly walked back towards the young man. "Is that where you live?"

Sam shut his eyes, a few tears falling down his face as he slowly nodded his head. "Pleeeease…"

Eric sighed as he shook his head. "I must be out of my mind… Alright, Kid…" He grabbed the boy's arm to help him up, only to have the boy shout out in fear and hit the man with a weak backslap. "What the hell?!"

"I'm sorry!" Sam recoiled and flung his arms over his head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Eric looked at the boy, stunned. This young man in front of him was terrified. Absolutely terrified. Of him. Which would seem absurd considering the young man was at least six inches taller than him. But nonetheless…

Eric looked at huddled figure with a new light. "What's happened to you?" he whispered to himself. Eric leaned forward towards the young man, but made sure not to touch him. "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Sam looked up at the man through his arms and slowly nodded. "Please..."

"Then do you want me to help you up, or can you stand on your own?"

Sam blinked a few times, as if trying to comprehend the man's words. Then he slowly shifted his legs under him and leaned heavily against the wall as he shakily stood.

Eric smiled until he saw the awkward angle of Sam's right leg. "What the hell...?"

Sam looked down, ashamed. "Did... b-bad..." he murmured.

Eric looked at him pityingly. "Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Sam quickly shook his head. "Because if it's your family that's hurting you..."

Sam shook his head again, tears starting to fall more rapidly. "'E won' st-top 'urting 'im..." he whimpered childishly.

I don't think this kid's even sane... Against his better judgment, Eric walked to his car, opened the passenger door and said, "You coming, or what?"

Sam's breathing started to labor as his chest constricted. The thought of being alone with a stranger in a suffocating car was almost more than he could handle. But another spike of pain shot through his head, clearing his irrational fear and reminding him why he was doing this.

"C-coming..." Sam stuttered as he limped towards the car.

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