A thousand apologies for this taking two blue billion years to get posted. I started school last week and life's been a little crazy. I've been busy getting my ass handed to me by my Comp professor. Hopefully once I get used to actually having a life I'll find time to write more for this story and not just my classes ^.^

Cas's P.O.V

I glanced in the mirror as I washed my hands and what stared back was what looked like a corpse. I looked gaunt and pale and dark purple bruises rested underneath my eyes so dark it was beginning to look like I'd broken my nose. My hair looked like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket and then maybe rubbed a balloon through my hair for good measure. I grimaced and ducked out of the police station bathroom to wearily trump back to the Sheriff's office.

Dean still sat hunched over a laptop screen digging his thumbs into his temples, just the way I'd left him. He was clouded with deep ash grays and smudges of charcoal, sickly yellow and navy blue. Bright patches that had swirled sapphire and aquamarine were darkening to ill looking teals and Kelly green.

The modern glowing clock on the desk blinked to show the time at 2:03 p.m. I glanced out the window to see the sun resting high in the clear blue fall sky. Dean had convinced John and his men to scour through the school again because I couldn't seem to shake the wrongness I was feeling. They'd turned up nothing and Dean had darkened even further.

Suddenly Dean's cell phone rang a generic strum of a guitar to signal it was from an unknown caller. His brow furrowed as he answered with a deep timbered hello. What happened next will always be seared into my memory like a burning brand. My stomach rolled and I swallowed down bile as I flinched because I could hear the blood curling scream from across the room. Dean was on his feet and screaming before I could even comprehend what was happening.

"YOU SICK FUCK!I'M GOING TO FIND YOU AND MY BROTHER AND GOD HELP ME BECAUSE I'LL TAKE YOU TO HELL MYSELF!DON'T LAY ANOTHER GODAMN FINGER ON MY BROTHER!"

John, the Sheriff and Agent Tran came tearing into the room. I threw my hand over my mouth to keep from hurling on the floor as another scream ripped through the speaker, a high keen that no creature should ever make. It spoke a billion words of indescribable pain and anguish, unspeakable terror and torment.

Dean turned the phone on speaker, dropped it on the desk and turned away to grip his hair with one hand while the other braced himself against the wall while he shook and shuddered.

A chuckle emitted from the phone, the kind to make your skin crawl, your blood freeze and your heart seize in horror. I closed my eyes and a lone tear ran down my cheek as Sam sobbed and begged for it to stop, dear God please let it stop, kill me just please God make him stop.

"Tut tut Sammy, we can't have you leaving just yet. I'm not quite throughhhh withhhh youuuuu."

He sang out the last part in a lilting cajole, like a child playing a game of hide and seek.

"But this isn't why I called at all, no not a bit; this is your goodbye to family. Since you're so special I thought I'd show some compassion, your last words to those you love….Say goodbye to Dean Sammy…"

Agent Tran was furiously typing at his computer, I'm not sure if I'd ever seen anyone move so fast in my life. Dean continued to shake and cringe by the window with his eyes squeezed shut.

Sam choked out a high whine…there aren't words to describe that sound. He part moaned, part sobbed, as he gurgled out Dean's name brokenly.

"De…ean…"

Dean choked down a sob as he collapsed by the desk.

"I'm hear Sam."

"I…I'm sorry."

I could barely understand him as he sobbed uncontrollably. Dean sat silent and still while tears poured down his face.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Sammy. I'm going to find you and I'm going to save you."

Dean's voice switched from an almost soft whisper to something that made the hairs on my arms stand on end and a shiver run down my spine. He sounded as if someone had sucked every emotion he'd ever had out of him, like a lifeless husk of nothing. Something soulless that didn't care about anything.

"When I find Sam and I see what you've done I am going to make you beg for hell. There won't be anything left of you to find and when I'm through Lucifer and his legions of damnation will be more merciful than I."

There was a pause and a chuckle.

"Big words for such a scared little boy, but you'll never find me Dean."

The look that entered Dean's eyes was the stuff of horror stories and nightmares.

"I will find you, and you will beg like a bitch for me to end it all, you will regret ever laying a hand on my baby brother I promise you that, no one lays a Godamn finger on my Sam."

The call ended and Agent Tran slammed his fist on the computer keyboard in obvious defeat while Dean stood. His face was devoid of any emotion, there was nothing, but what made me shake and cringe was the nothingness around him. There was no color, no light, not even a glimmer of energy that should show he was alive. It was like staring into the eyes of a dead man because from everything I knew, this meant that he was.

And just as I felt my soul sink with ice cold terror and horror there was a spark as if a flint had been struck. A soft glow flickered and then he exploded with light. There was no color, just a radiant and almost blinding white that pulsed with his heart.

I gazed in confused wonder. Cold righteous fury the likes of which I'd never even imagined existed. Because that's what this was, a hatred and anger so deep, so strong that it bleached all color away.

He strode out of the room without a backwards glance as John and Sheriff Mills yelled after him. I stood for a moment before I shoved through the door and ran through the police station. Dean was climbing into the Impala and I yanked open the door to jump in the passenger seat.

"No Cas, get out."

"You're not going alone."

"I said no Cas."

I snapped out.

"And I'm fucking staying by your side anyways so drive."

He paused for a second before his lips quirked up in a lopsided smile and he revved the engine and peeled out of the parking lot.

~oOo~

Bobby's house which had always looked so welcoming and warm before now looked dead and lifeless, an empty skeleton sagging and empty. I had to scurry after Dean as he silently and efficiently pivoted out of the car and unlocked the front door. He made a beeline upstairs and into Bobby's room before he whisked open the closet to reveal a gun safe. He squatted and spun the dial as if he'd done it countless times before. He jerked the handle and the door slid open silently to reveal a rack of guns and knives.

He grabbed two pistols and checked them before clicking the safety back on and handing one to me. I held the weight in the palm of my hand contemplatively and eyed it for a moment warily before slipping it into my jacket pocket. I was handed a serrated knife a moment later and then Dean was pocketing bullets and the door was shut and I was hurriedly following his retreating form back down the stairs. He paused to grab two flashlights and a small nondescript black box before we were rushing out the door.

"Where are we going Dean?"

The Impala's doors shrieked in protest at are rough handling as the engine roared to life and Dean revved it.

"To the school"

"But they already checked the school twice, I was wrong."

"I don't think you were. You've been so sure and you're right, there should have been video footage, there should have been something."

"Trained FBI agents combed through the building though, what makes you think we'll find him when they didn't?"

"A hunch, do you remember a few weeks ago when Sam was talking about those kids sneaking off to smoke some weed and make out?"

I frowned as Dean ran a red light and a minivan swerved to avoid t-boning us.

"Yeah he was ranting on about the…"

I trailed off as Dean nodded.

"About the basement yeah."

"But they would have checked the basement."

"Of course they did but Sam's a nerd, you know how he is and a couple years ago he wrote this research paper about schools back during the cold war. All the schools around here have shelters to prepare for tornadoes but back in the cold war the government started making everyone paranoid about us getting bombed and radiation poisoning. Companies started selling radiation proof bomb shelters and stuff which was nothing but bullshit but a lot of people bought into it."

"Ok I'm following, are you saying the school had a bomb shelter of some kind?"

"I'm saying it still does, the county never had the money to upkeep all the "radiation shelters" that were built during the Cold War so most of them have caved in or been bricked up. There were a ton of those shelters around here because we had a weapons factory here that started up and closed down in the 90's."

I raised my eyebrows.

"How do you know so much about this?"

"Dad used to work at the factory before he met mom, used to tell me and Sam stories about it all the time."

"Ok, so the school probably has an old closed up bomb shelter, where are we even going to find that dude, you know it's probably cemented up right?"

"Like I said, a hunch, but I think your right Cas."

"Why wouldn't your dad have known about this, why don't any of the adults period know about this. If we've got a hunch shouldn't they have thought about this?"

Dean shrugged as his jaw clenched.

"Honestly Cas I'm just praying I'm right, I don't even know about anything right now."

"Shouldn't we at least call your dad or something? I feel like we're pulling something extremely dumb and irrational right now."

There was a dull silence for a moment and I watched with a sort of unfocused incredulity as Dean swerved around a silver Scion and tires screeched.

"If he's here…no one needs to be here to see what's gona' happen.'

I bit my lip and pressed my elbow against the outline of the gun handle resting against my rib cage as Dean pulled into the Lawrence Middle School parking lot. Dean hopped out of the car and slammed the door, I eased my phone out of my pocket and hastily typed out a quick text message and clicked send before I smoothly stepped out of the Impala and dropped my phone on the floorboard. The screen was still lit up blue and I slammed the door as it blinked out.

I quietly followed Dean to the back of the school and glanced towards the sky. It was probably going on four o'clock.

The back parking lot was old and crummy, pavement busted up and weeds growing up through the cracks. An old chain link fence somehow still managed to stand against the weight of time. We passed a set of double doors to the kitchens and rounded a corner near a set of green giant dumpsters. I warily trailed after Dean as he strode forward purposefully still glinting a singular white light like a beacon. The steps to the basement were concrete and narrow.

The door itself looked like something from a B movie horror flick complete with an unchained rusted padlock. Dean gave a twist of the knob and a pull. Unsurprisingly it didn't budge and he pulled out the black box which appeared to be lock picking equipment. I didn't question it and a few minutes later the door scraped against the buildup of leaves and muck in the depression of the concrete entrance.

The basement wasn't too horrendous. There weren't monstrous cob webs and skeletons lying about. It was extremely damp however and a green slime was growing on the walls and we stepped over puddles and slimy spots often. There was of course electrical units and air ducts and pipes. We slowly combed through ever bit of the cinderblock maze, our flashlight beams bouncing off wet slime and glinting against slow trickles of water from leaky pipes.

It was a large basement that seemed like an infinite maze of pipes and random little cubbies of cinderblock and mortar. I passed by one such room, larger than the others which was filled with old furniture. To one side of the wall ancient dilapidated student desks were stacked up in columns and chairs against the other. Several old filings cabinets guarded the far wall and I narrowed my eyes and scanned my flashlights over the shadows. I brushed by one filing cabinet and paused before rolling back on my heel to take a step backwards. Yes, there it was, a soft barely there draft in the damp dank air.

I clicked my flashlight on and off several times to glint against the pipes outside of the room. Several moments later Dean ducked in silently much like some nocturnal cat with wide glinting green eyes. I motioned to the cabinet and he nodded before balancing his flashlight on a desk. We quietly raised the cabinet and moved it over a couple of feet to reveal a small hole barely large enough for a man to fit through, squarely and cleanly cut through the cinderblock wall.

We both sat squatting on our heels for a moment. I could hear Dean swallow thickly in the silence before we both switched our flashlights off and Dean slid through the hole on his stomach. I watched him disappear into the darkness and ran a reassuring hand down the handle of my pistol tucked neatly against me and took a deep breath before descending into the blackness.

Woah what? Teenagers being thoughtless spontaneous irrational morons, how bizarre. But seriously I would be in Dean's shoes if I had a younger sibling, but seeing as I'm the baby of my family unfortunately I'd be in Sam's place…bummer :(

The whole cold war basement thingy is actually very true and before any of you go arguing that no school's basement would be this decrepit and gross when I was a kid a couple of my friends and I broke into our elementary school's basement while we were on the playground. It was a cold war era school and let me tell you, this basement was a near exact memory of that place; it was a set for a Halloween horror movie.

Sorry for another cliffy but it was the perfect spot to end it. Next chapter will have some Sammy torture so warning if any of you have triggers for that sort of thing. Rape isn't even an option so don't worry about that. Brace yourselves for the storm my darlings.