Watch Out For Sammy

Chapter 14

Always a Winchester

For the first time since this whole mess started, John felt the smallest glimmer of true hope. He had just gotten off the phone with Missouri Mosely, who had apparently had a vision of his boys. This vision allowed her to tell him a little bit about the place they were being held, so now armed with the new information, Bobby and John were hitting the road.

John was in the process of telling Bobby everything that Missouri told him, trying to keep his emotions in check as he passed along her words. "She said there's a small cabin sitting far off the east side of the road. The long driveway is gravel and is surrounded by trees on both sides."

"Did she say anything about the boys?" Bobby asked, dreading the answer.

John's voice quieted and he stared out the window for several seconds before answering. "She said they're both as good as can be expected and that Dean is doing his best to take care of Sam."

"Well, of course he is. He's always looking out for his little brother."

"Bobby, she couldn't tell me why, but she said that we needed to find them soon. Said that something bad was going to happen if we didn't."

"We'll find 'em, John."

"I can't lose my boys, Bobby," John said pitifully. "They're all I have left."

"We'll find 'em," Bobby repeated.

The man had come down into the basement two more times since Dean had talked to Sam about escaping. Both times, Sam jumped up from the bed and ran over to the curtained off bathroom, just like Dean told him to. Both times, the man looked around for the younger boy, but then turned his focus onto Dean.

Dean, for the most part, tried to keep his head down, not wanting to make the man angry. Of course, that only worked the first time. The second time the man showed up, Dean said something to make him mad enough to slap him again. This slap left Dean with his ears ringing and his eyes tearing as he picked himself up off the floor. It also left him wondering why he couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut and his comments to himself.

"I've had enough of you, boy. The next time I won't be so easy on you."

Dean nearly laughed at the idea of the man thinking he was taking it easy on him. In the time they had been down in the basement, Dean had been slapped around multiple times and he was pretty sure the man hadn't been taking it easy. He certainly didn't want to find out, though.

Once the man left, after threatening Dean with much worse than what he'd already been given, Sam ran out from the bathroom. "Are you okay, Dean? Did he hurt you again?"

"I'm fine, Sammy. He can't hurt me."

Sam noticed the bright red handprint on the side of his brother's face and immediately started crying. "Dean, I wanna go home."

Dean felt a flash of annoyance shoot through him at Sam's words. Didn't Sam think he wanted to go home, too? He quickly forgot his annoyance, though, when he saw the concerned look on the kid's face.

"We're getting out of here, Sam. The next time he opens the door, we're leaving."

Dean sat Sam down on the bed and talked him through his plan. He had no idea if it would work, but he really didn't feel like sitting around waiting for rescue anymore. It was time he took matters into his own hands.

John's hope had been fading rather fast when they got to the end of their search sector without results. He knew if they had to expand their search further down the highway, they would be adding days onto the search.

"Maybe we missed it," Bobby offered. "The trees on this part of the highway are awfully dense. Maybe the driveway is tucked in between some trees, making it hard to find. "

John wanted to believe that was what the problem was, but he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

"Come on, John. Let's turn around and look one more time before we expand our search. That kid was pretty sure that he never saw that van past his own driveway."

Bobby turned his truck around and headed back the way they had come, driving even slower than before. Each miniscule opening in the trees brought the truck to an almost complete stop, causing cars on the road to honk angrily at them before speeding by.

They had driven almost two miles when John suddenly yelled for Bobby to stop.

Dean grew tired of waiting for the man to return, so he decided to do something to bring him downstairs. Finding a broom in the corner of the basement, he picked it up and started ramming it against the ceiling as hard as he could. He had no idea where in the house the man was, so he moved around the basement, knocking the handle up into different parts of the ceiling.

Sam was already in place, hiding behind a pile of boxes in the corner of the basement closest to the stairs. Dean's plan was to distract the man long enough for Sam to get up the stairs and through the door. Then he would make his own move.

Dean knew the odds were stacked against him. The man was much bigger than he was and probably much smarter, too. The only thing Dean had going for him was his speed and agility and the element of surprise. Nevertheless, he made sure to say a little prayer before starting his attack on the ceiling.

It only took a few moments for the man to open the door and thunder down the stairs. Once he was on the basement floor, yelling "What the hell are you up to?" at the top of his voice, Dean was hiding in the opposite corner from Sam. He knew that his hiding place was obvious and that it would only take the man a few seconds to see him, but he was hoping that the man was angry enough to focus on him and forget about Sam.

Dean was surprised when it worked.

The man strode forward the minute he saw Dean's shadow from the lamp on the wall behind him. Dean allowed the man to get within striking distance before he made his move. Lunging forward, he loudly yelled "oompa loompa" and watched as Sam darted out from behind the stack of boxes and up the stairs. The man was so surprised by the yelling, attacking boy that he didn't even notice Sam leaving.

Sam ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, not looking back until he was through the basement door and standing in the small kitchen. He wanted so badly to wait for Dean to join him, but he knew that he needed to get out of the house. He was happy to see that it was still daylight outside. He wasn't really afraid of the dark, but walking around in dark woods was a completely different story.

Once he was out of the house, he quickly found the trail they had walked down to get to the cabin. Once on the trail, everything got a little darker, thanks to the thick canopy of trees overhead. Sam couldn't help that he was scared, but he tried as hard as he could to be brave. He wished that Dean was with him and his eyes filled with tears at the thought of what might be happening to his brother at that very moment. Dean had said he would be right behind him, but he wasn't.

Sam continued forward, walking for what seemed like an eternity to his small body. At one point, he thought he heard something following him, but every time he looked back, he didn't see anything. Eventually, he came up on the gray van and he was hoping that the road wasn't too far away. He had been scared and upset when they made their way down the driveway the first time, not paying attention to anything other than his brother, so he had no idea how long it was. He just kept on walking.

Bobby turned onto the gravel drive that was barely visible from the road. John had a good feeling about this, knowing somewhere deep inside him that this road would lead him to his boys. The daylight was dwindling fast and the thick canopy of trees overhead made it even that much darker, but John really didn't even notice. He watched intently ahead of him as Bobby made his way down the long drive.

Just as they turned a small bend in the road, John yelled out, causing Bobby to slam on the brakes. Standing right in front of them, eyes as big as baseballs, stood Sam. The truck had barely come to a complete stop when John jumped out of the truck, calling for his youngest son.

"Sammy!" he yelled as he ran forward.

"Daddy!" Sam cried.

It only took a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity before John had Sam in his arms. He clutched the small body to his chest so tightly that Sam was finding it hard to breathe.

"Sammy, where's your brother?! Where's Dean?"

"I don't know," Sam cried. "He said he would be right behind me, but he wasn't."

John looked frantically down the driveway, searching for his son.

"Where did you come from?" he asked desperately.

"Down there," Sam said as he pointed down the driveway. "The man's house is there."

"Is he still there? The man?"

"Yes, sir," Sam sobbed. "Dean was fighting with him when I left."

John's face paled at his son's words.

"Bobby! Take Sam. I'm going after Dean."

Without a word, Bobby grabbed Sam from John and watched as his friend took off down the driveway.

"Let's go, kid," Bobby said as he walked back towards the truck. Sam buried his face in Bobby's chest and continued to cry.

Dean threw his full body weight at the man, hoping to knock him off balance, but he couldn't. Instead, the man recovered quickly and grabbed Dean, pushing him into the wall behind him. Dean's breath came out in a loud whoosh and his head banged hard against the wall. One of the man's hands found its way to his neck and Dean suddenly found himself unable to breathe.

Panic filled him for several long seconds as his eyes watered and his lungs began to burn. He had never been so scared in his life and it really, really made him mad. Letting his fear, anger, and desperate will to survive fuel him, Dean started to remember his training. All those days of sparring and wrestling with his dad suddenly came to the forefront of his mind and he started to move without thinking. Bringing his arms up between the man's arms, he tried to push them away. Unfortunately, the man was too strong for him and he couldn't budge him.

When that didn't work, Dean brought his hands up to the man's face, aiming his fingers at his eyes. Instead, he managed to hook one of the man's nostrils with his thumb and he ripped at it desperately. The man cried out in pain and tightened his grasp on Dean's neck. Just as everything around him was starting to go black, Dean did the last thing he could think of. Bringing his left knee up as hard as he could, he managed to knee the man painfully in the groin.

To his surprise, the man suddenly let go of him as he keeled over in pain. Dean hesitated for only a split second before climbing to his feet. He gasped for air as he clumsily made his way over to the stairs and began climbing. His head was spinning to the point where he thought he might black out, but he continued up the stairs. He could hear the man struggling to move behind him, so he wasn't surprised when he felt a hand grab his leg. Kicking out with all his might, Dean felt his foot land against something solid and hoped it was the man's face.

Fortunately, whatever it was, the man let go of his foot and Dean could hear him falling back down the stairs. Not wasting a single second of time, Dean scrambled back to his feet and continued up the stairs. Once he was through the basement door, Dean wasted no time in looking for a weapon. He knew that it was only a matter of time before the man made it out of the basement and he knew he could never outrun him. Thinking back on what his dad and Uncle Bobby had taught him, he knew that if there was no way to escape, you had to prepare yourself to stand and fight.

Pulling open several kitchen drawers, he searched frantically for a knife. Preferably a silver knife, but he would settle for anything. After opening the third drawer, he finally found a pair of kitchen scissors, and figured that was better than nothing. He also found a heavy duty, long-handled flashlight and picked that up as well. Holding both of those in his hands, he made his way over to the door, noticing that it was wide open. He hoped that meant that Sam had made his way out the door and was now on his way down the long driveway. Please, God… please let Sammy be okay.

Dean had just stepped onto the porch when he was suddenly hit from behind, the impact knocking him down to the ground. Somehow, he managed to hold on to the flashlight, but he had been holding the scissors in his left hand and the jarring of his injured arm caused him to drop it to the ground. He didn't have enough time to look for it, because the man immediately started dragging him back into the house.

Dean's eyes filled with tears at the pain that was coursing through his body. He felt like giving up, like curling up into a ball and letting the man do whatever he needed to do, but he really didn't have it in him to give up. He knew the odds were against him, but he wouldn't ever give in to the despair he was feeling. He had to fight. For Sammy.

With that thought rushing through his mind, he returned to fighting with everything he had in him, ignoring the pain as much as he could. He kicked out with both legs, he swung the flashlight in every direction, he screamed, he spat, he gouged with his fingers. He was like a whirling dervish, turning and twisting his body in every direction, hoping to break free from the crazy man that was holding him.

Dean could hear grunts escaping the man whenever he was able to actually land a good kick or punch, but it never seemed to be enough to knock himself loose from the man's grasp. But he didn't give up. He was sweating like crazy and every fiber of his being felt like it was on fire, but he continued to fight. He never wanted anyone to say that Dean Winchester didn't fight until the very end. If he was going to die, he was going to do it on his own terms. If he was going to die, he was going to die a Winchester… brave and strong to the very end.

Luckily, the end wasn't coming today. Somehow, Dean pulled himself away from the man and was able to make his way back out the door. Once back out on the porch, Dean noticed two things at once- first, his dad was running up the path towards the house, yelling out for him, gun pointed in his direction. Second, the scissors were right in front of him and the man was quickly moving towards him.

Dean bent down and grabbed the scissors, turning just in time to thrust them forward into the chest of the man who had kidnapped them. He knew the scissors weren't made of silver, but he hoped they would at least slow the man down enough for his dad to get there. He watched as the man faltered, grabbing at the scissors that were now protruding from his chest. He watched as the man grabbed the scissors and pulled them out of his chest as if it were just a loose thread being pulled from his shirt. And finally, he watched as the man took the scissors and thrust them right back at him. Dean tried to move out of the way, but he just wasn't fast enough. The scissors embedded deep into his left thigh, causing Dean to cry out in pain. He could feel the warmth of his own blood pouring out of the wound, soaking his jeans in just a matter of seconds. He could feel the light-headedness that overwhelmed him as he tried to get his breathing under control. He could feel a burning start somewhere deep inside him as his body began to go into shock. And then he couldn't feel anything as the darkness finally claimed him.

Author's note: Please don't hate me for leaving you hanging off of a tiny little cliff. I promise I'll update soon. In the meantime, I'd really love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. I'm not too sure how well the action scenes move from my head onto the page, so I hope you all didn't have a hard time following the action.

Thanks so much to you all for sticking with me on this story. You guys are awesome. And for those of you reading my other story, Meet Me on the Battlefield, I should have another chapter up soon.