First off...SORRY SORRY SORRY!!!!!!!!!!! In my replies to my reviewers I said the next chapter was coming right up. Well, when I went in to upload the chapter, the document manager page was not working. I couldn't remove old chapters to make room for new ones, couldn't upload my chapter. I sent the error code to the proper folks and tried several more times over the next hours to post. Anyway, to make a long story short, it's working this morning. I hope this chapter makes up for the delay.

Cindy.

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Dean crept through the trees, his eyes and ears ever alert for movement and sound. He held his pistol ready even though he knew it wouldn't kill Wilcox. He hoped that it would slow him down enough so he could get close and use the dagger to end him for good. Dean had been sneaking around the woods for what seemed like hours and had not seen hide nor hair of the vile man he hunted. Thoughts of Sam and what he had endured assaulted his mind, spurring him on and giving him the spark he needed to keep looking.

Dean was consumed with overwhelming hatred for the man who had put the haunted look in his baby brother's eyes. The man who invaded Sam's sleep and caused him to scream out in terror, his hair plastered to his sweat soaked brow. Sam was sixteen for God's sake! It was bad enough that he had been forced to grow up the way he had, but to be victimized in such a way now was down right cruel. His biggest concern should be what to wear on his next big date, not whether he or another member of his family survived the next hunt or whether the previously dead pervert who stalked him would be successful in his endeavor.

Dean stopped ubruptly, all thoughts pushed aside when he heard a rustling in the trees to his right. He trained his gun on the path coming from the forest and waited for his target to emerge. Dean barely managed to not pull the trigger when instead of Wilcox appearing before him, John stepped from the trees. He lowered his pistol as John stepped closer.

"Dad! I nearly shot you. Give a guy some warning next time!" he spat.

"We need to get back to the cabin, Dean. Now!" John snapped without ceremony then headed in the direction of the cabin.

An uneasy feeling crept over Dean and he hurried to catch up to his father.

"What's wrong Dad?" Dean asked breathlessly as he pulled up next to John.

"I've tried reaching Daniel on his cell and am not getting an answer. I just have a bad feeling. Now hurry up Dean!"

"How long have we been out here? How long have you been trying to reach Dan?" Dean asked, the urgency in John's voice kicking up the panic in his own.

"Uh...been out here about an hour. Been trying Daniel for fifteen minutes," John answered, picking up his pace even more.

Dean silently kept pace with John, a jumble of thoughts racing through his head. Maybe Daniel's cell phone was dead. He was notorious for not recharging it enough. But Dean could swear he saw it on the charger the previous day. Maybe Wilcox had shown up and Daniel had taken him out and was busy calming Sam. No, he would have called right away to let them know if that had happened. Dean kept coming back to something being wrong at the cabin and he picked up his speed, passing John in his haste to get to his brothers. John pulled up next to him and the two men glanced at each other, desperation mirrored in their eyes.

"Did you call Bobby or Caleb?" Dean asked his father.

"Yeah, told 'em to meet us at the cabin," John replied.

Ten minutes later the two Winchesters broke through the treeline and into the front yard of the cabin. They glanced up at the cabin as they hurried across the grass then turned their heads briefly as Bobby and Caleb burst through onto the opposite side of the yard. Dean reached the porch steps first followed closely by John, Bobby and Caleb. As he reached the top of the steps he glanced right, his eyes landing on the open screen door. His eyes fell and his breathing hitched as he saw his older brother sprawled on the floor, his arms and legs moving clumsily as consciousness returned to him.

"Daniel!" Dean yelled as he ran across the porch and dropped to his knees next to his brother.

Daniel moaned as Dean grabbed his shoulders and gently turned him over. Blood covered Daniel's face where it had flowed from a cut above his left eyebrow and his eyes peered at Dean for a moment before recognition played across his face. John dropped next to Dean and he grabbed Daniels arm to help pull him up into a sitting position. Bobby and Caleb pulled up behind the Winchesters and shared a concerned look.

Daniel looked shakily from Dean to his father, then his eyes widened in panic.

"Sam..." he rasped frantically. "Oh my God, no...Sammy!"

John was on his feet and moving in a heartbeat, screaming his baby's name as he ran toward Sam's room. John stopped when he crossed the threshold of the bedroom, his eyes darting around the room, but not finding what he was looking for. His heart raced as he turned and left the room, then headed back to his older sons. As he neared the door, his eyes caught something light blue discarded on the floor. He took the few steps toward the fireplace and stooped down to retrieve the pile of fabric. As he picked it up, the fabric opened up and John nearly quit breathing when he saw what he was holding.

John walked to the door where Dean, Caleb and Bobby had gotten a shaky Daniel to his feet. He held the shredded shirt in his trembling hands as he approached his family. Dean gazed up at him, followed by Daniel and the two other hunters. They looked at him expectantly.

"Sammy?" Dean asked nervously, his wide eyes falling onto the garment in his father's hands.

John shook his head slowly and held the shirt out toward his boys. The other men glanced at the shirt, their hearts sinking as they saw the cut fabric. Blood tinged the edges of the cut and also soaked several spots over the shirt. Daniel reached out his hands and took the shirt as his brother and friends helped him into the cabin. Tears fell from his eyes as he stared down at the bloody garment. Sam's blood.

"Sammy's shirt...oh God, I'm so sorry. My fault...all my fault..." he cried as he tugged the shirt to his chest.

John grabbed Daniel's shoulders and pulled him around to meet his eyes.

"This is not your fault Daniel. This was a ploy to get us away from the cabin, to separate us. And it worked. I fell for it Daniel. We all did. It's not your fault!"

"But Dad...he has Sammy! I had one job...one job Dad...watch out for Sammy, keep him safe. Keep Wilcox away from him. I screwed up and now he has my brother!" Daniel's knees suddenly buckled and John grabbed him up before he fell to the floor.

"Dean, get me some water from the kitchen! Hurry!" John shouted.

Dean headed for the kitchen as Bobby and Caleb helped John get Daniel on the sofa. Dean came back with the glass of water and looked at his father fearfully.

"They went out the back door," Dean stated as he handed the water to Daniel.

Bobby and Caleb raced to the kitchen as Dean took a seat next to Daniel. Daniel still held Sam's shirt next to his chest. He stared out across the room, his eyes landing on Sam's door. It didn't look to be damaged which could only mean that Sam had opened it.

"Why did he open his door? Why didn't he just stay locked inside? He was safe in there. Why the hell is this happening? Why Sam?!!!" Daniel cried as he pulled Sam's tee shirt up to his face and dropped his head into his hand, breathing in his little brothers scent.

John squeezed Daniel's shoulder, then rose and headed to the kitchen to get a wet cloth to clean Daniel's cut. He came back and cleaned the wound. Daniel refused to be stitched, insisting they didn't have the time. John relented and put butterfly bandages on it instead. As he finished up, Bobby and Caleb returned to the livingroom.

"Can't find a trail on 'em John," Bobby said as they neared the sofa.

"Did you ever spend a lot of time here Bobby?" John asked his friend.

"Used to come alot and do some huntin'. Regular huntin', ya know," Bobby replied.

"Is there any place out there Wilcox might take Sam? A cave, mine shaft or other buildings?" John asked as he rose from the sofa.

"Don't remember any caves or what not. There was an old hunting cabin 'bout three miles out. Was at the end of one of the trails. Was a one room cabin. It may still be there. That's about all I can remember."

"I'd say that would be the best bet. Do you know how to get there?" Dean queried, pulling Daniel up from the sofa.

"There's three trails leading out there. Can't remember which one takes you to the cabin. Sorry." Bobby hung his head, unable to meet the Winchester's eyes.

"We'll have to split up. Daniel, maybe you ought to say here and..." John started.

"No way! Sammy's out there with that lunatic and it's my fault. I'm going!" Daniel spat.

"Fine. You and Dean take the first trail, Bobby and Caleb the second, and I'll take the third. Whomever finds the cabin calls the others. Everyone have their weapons?"

"Yep, got it right here," Caleb answered, fingering his dagger.

Dean and Bobby nodded while Daniel patted his jeans down then spun around looking at the floor. "Can't find my dagger. It was on my belt, now it's gone," he said to his father.

"You suppose Sam somehow got hold of it? Tried to take Wilcox out?" Dean asked.

"Could be. Or Wilcox has it," John replied fearfully, glancing at Sam's cut shirt lying on the sofa.

The men glanced at each other then wordlessly made their way to the back porch, grabbing flashlights on the way out. Once in the yard they stopped and faced each other.

"Okay, let's go get our boy back," John said confidently to the others.

The men separated and found their paths leading into the woods. They had one thing in mind and one thing only. Find Sam and kill his tormentor once and for all.

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The first thing Sam became aware of upon waking was the pounding in his head and a dull throb running down the length of his chest. He forced his eyes open and blinked several times as they adjusted. Sam's befuddled mind tried to remember what had happened to bring him to this place. He slowly sat up and immediately squeezed his eyes shut when the room around him spun out of control. He took several deep breaths until the dizziness subsided. He opened his eyes again and gazed at his surroundings. He was in a small cabin, a shack really. He sat on a filthy mattress in one corner of the shack. A cast iron woodstove sat a few feet from the end of the mattress and an old wooden table sat in the middle of the floor, a lighted oil lamp perched on a filthy counter just past the table.

Sam's hand went to his aching chest and he looked down, seeing for the first time the cut that ran from the top of his sternum to just above his navel. It was at that moment that the memories of the most recent events crashed into Sam and he physically recoiled.

"Daniel! Oh my God...please God...please let him be okay," Sam whispered hoarsely.

Sam stood from the mattress, shivering when his bare feet hit the cold, wooden floor. He glanced nervously around the shack as he crept across to the door. Wilcox was nowhere to be seen. Sam slowly opened the door and stepped out onto the small porch. He took two steps away from the shack when a strong hand gripped his shoulder, spinning him around until he stood face to face with pure evil.

"Where ya going Sammy?" Wilcox hissed as he pulled the terrified teenager to his chest. Wilcox leaned close to Sam's ear and whispered coldly.

"Time to play Sam."

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WHAT!!?? Another evil cliffy!! What is it with me? Don't worry, there will be more later. Please let me know what you think.

Cindy.