Watch Out For Sammy

Chapter 10

Desperate Times

Dean had no idea how long they had been driving or even what time it was. All he knew was that he felt awful and was utterly terrified. His head was still pounding and his stomach was continuously threatening to turn itself inside out. But worse than any of that was the fact that Sammy was crying and moaning, his head buried in Dean's lap, his little hands gripping Dean's shirt tightly.

"Dean, I wanna go home," Sam cried miserably. "I want Daddy!"

"I know, Sammy. I wanna go home, too. But we have to wait, okay? Dad and Uncle Bobby will find us soon," Dean whispered as quietly as he could, pulling Sam even closer to him in an attempt to alleviate some of the jostling from the van's movement.

After several more minutes of driving, Dean felt the van leave the paved road, entering onto what felt like a gravel road. He tried to look out the front window, but couldn't see much more than the road in front of them. Remembering something that his dad told him once, he immediately started counting out the seconds as they were driving. He wasn't sure what to do with the information, since he had no idea how fast the van was driving, but he counted nevertheless. At least, it gave him something to focus on other than the pounding headache that was threatening to make him pass out.

Dean had counted to two hundred and eighty-nine when the van finally rolled to a stop. Sitting up straighter, he watched as the man got out of the van, opening the sliding door just seconds later.

"Get out," the man ordered.

When Dean didn't move fast enough, the man reached out and grabbed him by the leg, yanking him forward savagely. Sam's body was pushed away by the force of Dean being pulled, causing the half-asleep little boy to cry out when his head banged on the floor of the van. Dean also cried out when his injured arm hit against the side of the van on the way out.

"I said get out!" the man yelled.

Dean wasn't quite all the way out of the van, so the man yanked him forward again, this time by his injured arm. Dean's vision went black from the immense pain he felt, but it didn't stop him from kicking out with his legs, catching the man squarely in the stomach.

"Damn it!" the man yelled as he stumbled backwards and nearly fell to the ground. If Dean had been by himself, he would have immediately taken off, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the man. But he wasn't by himself and he couldn't leave his brother.

Before the man stepped back to the van, Dean turned around and checked on Sammy, who was now backed up into the corner of the van. He motioned for Sam to slide toward him, but could tell by the way he was acting that Sam was paralyzed with fear. He was just about to climb back into the van to get to his brother when the man suddenly reappeared behind him. Dean could tell the man was downright pissed off and he couldn't stop the feeling of sheer terror that suddenly overcame him. Turning back to face the man, he wasn't surprised when the man raised his arm and slapped him hard across the face.

Immediately, several things happened at once. Dean was knocked backwards, hitting his hip on the floor of the van before falling down to his knees. At the same time, he heard what could only be described as a war cry coming from the corner of the van. Seconds later, Sam launched himself out of the van and straight into the arms of the man, his small fists pelting their kidnapper with frantic punches.

"Leave Dean alone!" Sam cried. "Don't hurt him!"

"Sam!" Dean yelled as he tried to pull himself back to his feet. "Sam, stop!"

By this time, the man had had enough of the two Winchester brothers and grabbing Sam by his hair, he quickly subdued the small boy before turning back to Dean. "Get up! And don't try anything or I'll have to hurt the kid."

Dean knew the man was telling the truth, so he got to his feet and fast as he could. He would do whatever he had to do to keep Sammy safe. Once the man was sure they weren't going to fight him anymore, he pushed Dean ahead of him, keeping his hand firmly latched onto Sam's hair as an insurance policy that they wouldn't' try anything else.

Dean walked forward, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure that Sam was okay. They were walking through a dense wood and he found himself stumbling over the uneven ground as he tried to make his way in the not quite bright enough light of the moon. After walking for several minutes, Dean could finally make out the shape of a cabin just ahead. He stopped once he got to the cabin's porch, not wanting to continue up the stairs unless he had to.

"What did you stop for?" the man asked as he painfully prodded Dean in the back. "Get in the house!"

Dean scrambled up the stairs and opened the door. Stepping into the small cabin, he immediately looked around, taking in his surroundings like he had been taught to do. There was a small living room/kitchen/dining room combination with two doors off to one side and another door off to the other side. He wasn't surprised when the man pushed both of them over to the left side of the room, towards one of the doors.

"Open that door," he instructed Dean.

Dean turned the handle and opened the door, seeing a small staircase that led down into a dark space.

"Go on! What are you waiting for?!"

Dean tentatively stepped forward into the darkness, carefully stepping down the first few steps before stopping, afraid that he might fall down the stairs.

"I can't see anything," he said.

"You don't need to see anything. Just walk."

Dean took a few more cautious steps down, his hands gripping the wooden stair rail tightly. Once the man was through the door and onto the steps himself, he must have figured that it was actually too dark to negotiate the stairs safely because a light suddenly came on. Dean turned to see the man holding up a small flashlight.

"Go!" he growled.

Sam, who was in between Dean and their kidnapper, reached out and grabbed the back of his brother's shirt. Dean felt himself calm a little with his brother's touch and he hoped Sam felt the same. He knew his little brother was terrified and it really made him mad. It was his job to protect Sammy, after all.

Once they were at the bottom of the stairs, the man stepped over to the right and turned on a small lamp. Dean looked around the small basement, noticing immediately that the one small window was completely boarded up. He also noticed a bed in one corner and a small table with two chairs.

The man pushed Sam forward and Dean instantly latched onto his brother, pulling him to him and then behind him.

"Don't bother yelling for help," the man said. "There's no one around for miles, so no one will hear you. And don't try to escape. You won't like the consequences of that."

Pointing over to the far corner of the room, the man continued. "The bathroom is over there." With that, he turned to leave, as if that was all there was to it.

"Wait!" Dean cried. "Wait! You can't leave us down here."

The man kept walking up the stairs, ignoring Dean. Once he was through the door, Dean heard the door shut and the lock being turned. Running up the stairs, Dean jiggled the door knob, trying to open the door even though he knew it was locked.

"Hey! Hey, let us out!" he yelled, knowing he was just wasting his breath. He couldn't help the tears of frustration that suddenly filled his eyes, but he knew he couldn't let Sam see him cry. Taking a few deep breaths, he turned around and walked back down the stairs and back to Sammy.

Bobby and John drove for what seemed like hours without any luck at all in finding the boys. Eventually, Bobby suggested that they return to the restaurant and start asking around to see if anyone saw the van or recognized it. They had no luck, of course, because by this time the restaurant had closed and all the potential witnesses had left.

"What are we going to do, Bobby?" John asked desperately.

"We're going to do what we always do, John. We're going to hunt this thing down and we're going to find our boys."

John took some comfort in his friend's words, but he still felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest. In all of his years, he had never felt so lost or so desperate, and it scared him. This wasn't the time to lose it! He had to keep it together!

"Listen," Bobby continued. "I know a guy in the Sioux Falls police department. Let me make a call and see if he can help us out."

"I don't want the police involved, Singer," John immediately answered.

"He's a friend, John. He'll keep it quiet for now."

John knew he didn't have any better ideas, so he agreed. He sat in the Impala while Bobby made his phone call, trying to read his friend's lips without much success. After a few minutes, Bobby returned to the car, climbing in behind the wheel.

"Well?"

"He's going to look into it. He didn't recognize the description of the van, but that doesn't mean anything. In the meantime, we need to get that head wound cleaned up. You're still bleeding all over the place."

John didn't say anything as they made their way back to Bobby's house. He felt a sudden desolation wash over him when he walked into the house and immediately stepped on one of Sammy's toy cars.

"Oh, God, Bobby! We have to find them," he sobbed. "They're all I have!"

"We'll find them, John. I swear. And when we do, that man won't know what hit him," Bobby said in a cold and angry voice.

If John wasn't feeling the same way, he would have been scared by the chill in Bobby's voice.

Dean led Sam over to the bed, taking in the sight of the one thin blanket that covered it. He knew the blanket wasn't big enough to cover both of them, but it would have to do.

"Hey, Sammy…I don't know about you, but I'm tired. What do you say we try to get some sleep, okay?"

"I need to use the bathroom, Dean," Sam said in a small voice.

Dean led him over to the curtained off area in the corner. Looking around the corner, he was surprised to see a toilet and a small sink. He hadn't expected the small cabin to have actual running water.

"There you go, Sammy," he said as he pulled the curtain aside. "I'll be right out here, okay?"

"Okay." Sam stepped past the curtain, but stopped when Dean started to close it. "No!" he yelled. "Don't leave me, Dean!"

"I'm not leaving, Sam. I'll be right here, I promise."

Sam was still scared, but he allowed Dean to pull the curtain shut. A short time later, Dean heard the toilet flush and the water turn on in the sink. When Sam stepped back around the curtain, he could tell that his brother still wasn't feeling well.

"You okay?" he asked.

"My stomach still hurts," Sam answered.

"Maybe you'll feel better after you sleep," Dean said, hoping that was true. Leading Sam over to the bed, he pulled back the blanket, exposing the disgusting mattress underneath. Trying not to think about where all the stains had come from, Dean climbed into bed and patted the space next to him. "Here you go, Sam."

Sam crawled in next to his brother and snuggled into his side. Dean could feel the small body trembling next to him and he wondered if it was from the cold of the basement or the sickness that had taken over. Or maybe it was because his brother was so scared. Knowing what he had to do, Dean pulled the blanket up over Sam and started talking.

"Hey, Sammy….Remember that time we went to the carnival and rode all those rides? And you beat me at that ring toss game?"

"Yeah," his brother answered softly.

"And remember those deep-fried twinkies Dad let us buy? Those were so good, remember?

"And the curly-fries."

"Yeah, those were the best! Remember when the ketchup bottle exploded and ketchup landed all over Dad? He was so mad at us because we wouldn't stop laughing."

Sam started laughing at the memory. "He had ketchup in his ear!"

"And up his nose," Dean laughed.

"And in his hair!"

"Everywhere but on his curly-fries," Dean laughed even harder.

Sam turned his face up to look at his brother. "Dean? When we get out of here can we ask Dad to take us to a carnival?"

"Of course, we can! And maybe Uncle Bobby can come, too."

"I can't wait to see Uncle Bobby riding the Ferris Wheel. He hates it," Sam said with a big yawn.

Dean continued to talk about the carnival until he heard Sam's breathing even out. Looking down at his brother, he could tell that Sam was asleep and for the first time since they had been taken, Dean allowed himself to cry, not ashamed to let the tears roll down his face. He had no idea what he was going to do. He had no idea how he was going to keep his brother safe. And he was really, really scared.

Closing his eyes, he did something that he hadn't done in a long time. He prayed. He vaguely remembered how his mother always prayed with him before bed and how she always said that angels were watching over him. And he really, really hoped that was true.

Author's note: Here's another one for you. It's a little shorter than some, but this just seemed like a good place to stop it for now.

Bobby and John aren't much closer to finding the boys, but they're working on it. And Dean's being the Dean we all love and is watching out for Sammy. You gotta love the kid, right?

Thanks to all who have read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. You are all so appreciated. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and on the story as a whole. I'm hoping to have a new chapter of Meet Me on the Battlefield up soon, but I've had a little bit of writer's block with that one. I won't abandon it though, I promise.

And just so you know… the Seattle Supernatural convention was amazing! So much fun!