Watch Out for Sammy

Chapter 11

Heroes and Villains

John barely slept at all, tossing and turning constantly in an attempt to find a comfortable position, or waking up minutes after falling asleep when he quickly fell into nightmares of monsters hurting his sons. When the sun finally came up the next morning, he was already downstairs, making phone calls to every hunter he could think of.

Bobby found his friend pacing back and forth in the small kitchen, downing cup after cup of coffee as he yelled at whoever he was talking to on the phone. John held a certain amount of respect among their fellow hunters, but for the most part, no one really liked the man. He was a hard-ass that usually found himself on the wrong side of any relationship because of his attitude and gruffness. Not that other hunters weren't gruff, really, but John was a whole different breed of gruffness.

By the end of the conversation, Bobby had figured out that John was talking to Caleb and was obviously not liking what he was hearing. It wasn't too much longer before the man hung up the phone, cursing a blue streak while he grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator.

"John, it's barely seven in the morning," Bobby chided as he watched the man open the beer.

"I know what time it is, Singer," John grumbled.

"Well, then, you know it's way too early to be drinking, I guess."

John just stared at the man as he took a long drink from the bottle.

"What did Caleb have to say?" Bobby asked, knowing that he wasn't going to get John to put the bottle down.

"Not a damn thing," John growled. "And he calls himself a hunter."

"He's a good hunter, John. He learned from one of the best."

"Yeah, well I think he's forgotten every damn thing I ever taught him."

"I doubt that. This shapeshifter is just good at what he does, John. But, we'll find him."

John looked unusually defeated and that wasn't something Bobby was used to seeing. John never gave up on anything, especially when his boys were involved, but this time seemed different. He seemed different. In fact, the man seemed somehow smaller than he was. Diminished and broken. Bobby hated seeing his old friend in such a way, but he understood why. Sam and Dean were everything to John Winchester. Without them, he would cease to exist.

Trying to get his mind off of the sad figure standing before him, Bobby was just about to ask John what their plan for the day was, but John spoke first.

"What have I done, Bobby?"

"What do you mean, Winchester?"

"This is all my fault. I brought this down on my own head. What would Mary think about all of this?"

"John, this isn't your fault."

"Yes, it is. I killed the man's family, Bobby. Every single member of his family."

"He's not a man, John. He's a monster. And his family was preying on innocent people. They had to be stopped."

John knew that Bobby was right, but all he could focus on was the fact the Sam and Dean had been taken from him because of something he had done. He was the one to put them in danger. And he was the one that failed to protect them.

"So, what are we going to do?" he finally asked, knowing that he needed to pull himself out of the despair he was feeling and focus on the job ahead.

"I say we go back to the restaurant and ask around. Maybe one of the employees saw something."

"But they won't open for a few hours yet."

"Let me make another call to my friend then. Maybe he found something useful."

John listened closely as Bobby called his friend from the Sioux Falls police department, praying the whole time that the man had something helpful to tell them.

Dean barely slept at all, tossing and turning constantly in an attempt to find a comfortable position, or waking up minutes after falling asleep when he quickly fell into nightmares of monsters hurting his little brother. He had no idea what time it was since the window was boarded up and no natural light could be seen in the basement. Days could have passed and he wouldn't even have known.

Sam was still sleeping restlessly next to him, his head resting in the crook of Dean's arm. Dean looked his brother over closely, happy to see that his color looked more normal. He was also relieved that Sam had slept through the night, not waking up at all to throw up. Hopefully, whatever sickness had taken over the small boy had already completely run its course and Sam would be feeling better when he woke up.

Dean wasn't feeling too good himself, and he wondered if maybe he was going to be brought down by the same bug that had ravished Sammy. Before he could even finish that thought, his stomach churned with nausea and he jumped out of bed, making his way to the small bathroom area as fast as he could. Sam stirred at the suddenness of Dean's movements, looking wildly around the room.

"Dean?" he called out in confusion. "Dean, where are you?"

In between the violet rushes of vomit that were now racking his body, Dean tried to answer his brother, not wanting to frighten him anymore than he already was. "I-I'm right here, S-S-Sammy!"

"Are you okay?" Sam asked as he made his way over to Dean, who was still hanging over the toilet.

"I-I'm okay. Just give me a second."

Sam sat down on the floor next to the curtain, waiting patiently for Dean to finish. A few minutes later, Dean came around the curtain, his legs shaking so much he could barely hold himself upright. Making his way back over to the bed, he fell onto it bonelessly, his breath coming in short little pants.

"Dean?"

"I'm okay, Sammy," Dean said again.

Sam moved over to the bed, too, sitting down on the edge of it, as close to his brother as he could without touching him. Dean rolled over onto his side, facing his brother. He looked up into Sam's worried face, but really didn't have the strength to even attempt to make his brother feel better.

They sat like that on the bed for almost an hour- Dean trying to keep his stomach from rebelling again and Sammy watching every move Dean made. Eventually, Dean had to make his way back to the bathroom again to empty his stomach of its meager contents. Just as he was coming back from the bathroom, the door to the basement opened and footsteps started down the stairs. Dean quickly made his way over to Sam, pushing his brother behind him protectively.

They watched as the man made his way down the stairs and stepped over to them. Dean didn't take his eyes off of the man for a single second. He didn't loosen his grasp on his brother either.

"Morning, boys. How'd you sleep?"

Dean just stared at the man, choosing not to answer.

"What? Not much of a morning person, are you? Well, doesn't matter to me if you talk or not. In fact, it'll probably go better for both of us if you don't."

The man stared at Dean, making him more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. Dean wondered if he could grab Sam and make his way up the stairs without the man stopping him, but realized immediately how impossible, and how stupid, that would be.

"Don't even think about trying to escape, boy," the man said with a grin. "You're not going anywhere, so you might as well make yourself comfortable. I have a feeling you're going to be here for a while."

"My dad will come for us," Sam said from behind Dean. Dean tightened his grasp on Sam's arm, trying to get him to stop talking.

"Your dad will never find you," the man answered. "What makes you think he's even looking for you, anyway?"

"He's looking for us," Dean answered. "He won't let you get away with this."

"Get away with what? Taking his family from him? Why shouldn't I get away with it? He took my family away from me."

"What do you mean?" Dean couldn't help but ask, even though he knew something about what the man was saying.

"Your daddy killed my whole family, kid. Every single one of them. He doesn't deserve to have his family living and breathing. He deserves to lose everything. Just like I did."

"Daddy killed someone?" Sam asked in a quiet voice.

Dean shushed Sam before turning back to the man. "He had a reason. For killing your family. I heard him talking about it after you tried to take Sammy at school. He said your family was hurting other people. That he had to stop them to save everyone else. That's what he does, you know? He saves people."

"You think so, huh? You think your daddy's a hero or something?"

"He is a hero," Dean said matter-of-factly.

"He won't be saving you, kid. Your daddy won't be finding you, I can promise you that."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep," Dean answered snidely.

"Yeah," Sammy interjected as he peered out from behind Dean. "Uncle Bobby says that all the time."

Dean pushed his brother back behind him. "He's gonna find us and when he does he's gonna kill you. Just like he killed your family."

Without hesitation, the man took two steps forward and slapped Dean across the face with the back of his hand, causing the boy to lose his balance and fall to the floor. Before he could get up, the man grabbed him by his already injured arm and pulled him to his feet, eliciting a cry of pain from his lips.

"You should shut your mouth, boy," he said as he loomed over Dean. "Unless you want more of that."

Dean backed up a few steps, making sure that Sam was well and truly behind him. Without another word, the man turned around and walked back up the stairs, slamming and locking the door behind him. Sam quickly scrambled out from behind his brother, searching his face for confirmation that he was okay. Dean's right cheek was bright red from the slap and his eyes were tearing up, but he tried to play it off so as not to scare his brother.

"It's okay, Sammy. It doesn't hurt that bad."

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

"I know you do, Sammy. I do, too. But, we can't go right now, okay?"

"Yes, we can! We can just leave, Dean. I wanna leave."

Dean didn't want to have to tell his brother that they were trapped in the basement, but he didn't see any way around it.

"Sammy, the door is locked. We can't get out of here right now."

Sam started crying even harder as he clung onto Dean. Dean pulled Sam over to the bed and they both climbed into it. Dean made sure that Sam was laying on the right side of him so that his injured arm wouldn't be bumped too much and Sam snuggled up into his side, eventually crying himself back to sleep. Just as Dean was about to fall asleep again, his stomach started roiling and he had to make his way back to the bathroom. He was sure he hadn't ever felt so miserable.

John wasn't surprised to hear that Bobby's cop friend didn't have any real leads on the gray van. The man was currently running a search for stolen vehicles in any neighboring states, though, and promised that he would get back to them as soon as he could.

At ten o'clock, John and Bobby made their way back to the restaurant, hoping to find out something, anything that might be helpful in their search. Unfortunately, the manager on duty informed them that the staff scheduled that day wasn't the same staff that had been there the day before. It didn't take long, though, for Bobby to convince the manager to call them all in for an emergency meeting.

As they waited for everyone to arrive, John paced back and forth, making the manager and staff really nervous. Bobby tried to calm his friend down, but John was way past the point of that.

It took almost an hour for all of the previous day's staff to show up and when they did, Bobby and John immediately started questioning them. Bobby was talking to his third staff member when John suddenly stood up and called out his name.

"Bobby! I've got something here."

Bobby made his way over to John, who was talking to a young man. He had barely made it to the table when John started talking loudly and gesturing frantically.

"He saw him, Bobby! He saw the van pull in yesterday when he was taking out the trash. And he says he's seen it out on the highway before, too."

Bobby could barely contain his own excitement at what he was hearing. Sitting down at the table, he started asking the kid questions, not caring if he was just repeating questions he had already been asked. By the time he was done with his interrogation, they had developed somewhat of a search perimeter. The kid had apparently seen the van on the same five mile stretch of highway repeatedly.

John felt like he could have kissed the young man for being so observant, but he didn't have time. Now that they had an idea of where the man was, he wanted to be out on the road, searching until he found his boys. Without a second of hesitation, he walked out the door and out to the Impala.

Bobby quickly thanked the restaurant manager and staff and then followed John out the door. He knew they needed a better plan than just driving up and down a stretch of road, hoping to find what they were looking for, but he was willing to do just that, intending to call his police friend to update him on what they had found out along the way. While John drove, Bobby made his phone call, hoping desperately that they were finally on the right track.

By the time Dean had emptied his stomach for the fifth time, his head was spinning and his heart was racing. He remembered the last time he had been sick, remembering how his dad had told him of the importance of staying hydrated. He tried to drink some water from the bathroom faucet, but the minute it hit his stomach, he was throwing up again. His gut ached from the aggressive heaving and his head was pounding. Luckily, though, Sammy had slept through most of it, something that Dean was extremely grateful for.

Eventually, he made his way back to the bed and climbed in next to his brother, trying not to wake him. He managed to fall asleep for a short period of time and when he woke up again, he unfortunately felt even worse.

Sam was sitting on the small bed, staring at his brother and chewing on one of his fingernails. Dean knew that this was something that Sam did when he was worried or scared, and it nearly broke his heart. He could also tell that Sam had been crying again.

"Hey, Sammy," he croaked, his throat feeling as dry as a desert.

"Hey, Dean," Sammy answered quietly.

"How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know," Sam answered. "But you've been sleeping for a long time."

Dean was pretty sure that he really hadn't been asleep for that long, but knew that it would seem longer to a seven year old. Especially this particular seven year old. Sam hated whenever he woke up before Dean. Usually, he would do anything and everything he could to make his brother wake up, so Dean appreciated that this time he had let him sleep.

"Are you still sick, Dean?" Sam asked, looking at his brother nervously.

"I feel better," he lied, hoping that Sam wouldn't catch on that he was lying.

"I'm hungry, Dean. And bored."

Dean suddenly realized that they hadn't eaten anything at all since they had been taken. He wasn't hungry himself, but he knew that Sam was now that he felt better. A surge of anger shot through him when he realized that the man hadn't given them any food.

"I know you're hungry, Sammy, but we'll have to wait, okay? I'm sure he'll bring us something to eat soon."

"I don't like that man," Sam mumbled. "He's mean."

Dean didn't know what to say to that so he just stayed quiet. It didn't take long for Sam to continue, though.

"Dean? Did Dad really kill that man's family?"

Now, Dean really didn't know what to say. He knew it would be hard for Sam to understand why their father had to kill the man's family and he really didn't want to have to explain to his seven year old brother that monsters actually existed. After a long pause, he finally came up with a story that he thought Sam would understand.

"Sam, remember when that man tried to take you from the school?" When his brother nodded, Dean continued. "This is the same man, Sammy."

"What? But he doesn't look like Mr. Morrison, Dean."

"That's because he has super powers, Sammy. Like Spiderman or Superman. His super power is that he can change into anything he wants."

"That's cool," Sam answered childishly.

"Yeah, but it also means that he can use his super powers to hurt people, remember? He changed himself to look like Mr. Morrison so you would trust him enough to go off with him. He used his powers to trick you, Sammy."

"That wasn't nice," Sam said quietly. "I don't like to be tricked."

"That's why Dad killed his family, Sammy. Because they were all tricking people and hurting them. Dad made sure they couldn't do that anymore. He saved people, Sammy."

"He did?"

"Yep! That's what he does. He saves people."

"And he's gonna save us, right, Dean?"

"Of course, he is," Dean answered. "We just have to wait here until he does."

"Okay," Sam answered quietly. "Dean? Can you tell me another story? Please?"

Dean looked up into his brother's eyes, noticing how red they were from all the crying he had done recently. "Sure, Sammy. What kind of story do you want?"

"I wanna hear a story about the kangaroo that got lost at the mall."

"Okay, Sammy," Dean laughed. "Once upon a time there was this little kangaroo…"

Author's note: Well, it seems that John and Bobby are slowly closing in on their prey. But in the meantime, what's going to happen to Sam and Dean? Any ideas? Thoughts?

Thank you all so much for reading. And a special thanks for all of you who take the time to review. Your reviews really are appreciated.