Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Sam was the first to notice the glowing eyes just outside the unlined window. "Dad!" he hissed and nudged John before pointing out the intruder. "We have to wake Dean up!"

"No. It can't know we're here. Stay silent and don't move until I say otherwise, got it?"

"But, Dean…!"

"Quiet! Focus, Sam!"

They both watched as the window opened itself and the demon crawled in like a slinking cat. With a smug smirk on its face at having caught the middle Winchester off guard, it practically strutted to the bed but stopped just outside of the trap.

Sam could feel the anger and disappointment radiating off his father.

The demon simply stood there, admiring his future general as the boy slept. It seemed to be taking sick pleasure in the fact that Dean's rest was anything but peaceful.

Dean was caught up in another nightmare. The flames kept rising higher, people were screaming; some voices he recognized and others he did not. The demon rose out of the flames, laughing manically at him. Dean's gut clenched when he realized the demon was carrying a baby Sammy in his arms.

"No…" He wanted to shout but his voice only came out as a whisper. Nevertheless, the demon heard it, as did everyone else hidden by the darkness of the motel room.

Sam tensed and prepared to call out, fearing for his brother's life, but John clamped a hand over his mouth and wrapped his other arm around Sam's chest, effectively keeping him in place.

A sickly pale hand reached through the devil's trap and stroked its fingers lovingly through Dean's short, sweaty hair. "Shhh…" it cooed.

"Step inside the trap, goddamn it…" John whispered as though willing the demon to follow his orders.

Bobby was itching to burst out of his hiding place and throw every curse and banishing spell he could think of at the demon. "Get yer damn hands off of 'im," he growled so that only he would hear. As much as he hated it, he knew he couldn't blow the plan now. It was an unneeded risk to Dean's life, and it was half his fault the boy had agreed to being bait in the first place.

The elder man wanted to throw up when he heard the boy's pleading whimper, unsure from his angle whether Dean was awake yet or not.

They all watched as the demon slowly tilted his head sideways as though listening and a smile spread across his face. If John hadn't known better, he would have thought the demon knew they were all there, just out of eyesight. The thought sent chills up his spine.

Yellow eyes slid his cold fingers down the side of Dean's face and gently cupped his cheek before tapping it a few times. "Rise and shine, kiddo!"

Dean jolted back to consciousness, his eyes widening as they latched on to the owner of the cold hand. "What the…?!" He shoved the demon's hand away while his other hand moved automatically towards the knife he always kept underneath his pillow. Only when he failed to find the sturdy hilt did he remember Sam had removed it for safety purposes.

Sam's heart sank to his stomach as he watched his brother try to fend for himself, remembering that he still had Dean's knife tucked away in his bag for safe keeping. He pulled his father's hand away from his mouth. "Dad!" he hissed. "Dean's not armed!"

"I know," was the only reply he got.

Sam swallowed hard and turned his full attention back to the demon hovering over Dean.

"Hate to barge in again so soon, but we were interrupted last time. Got some unfinished business to attend to," the demon began.

"Such as?"

"I forgot to show you the biggest perk of joining the dark side."

"Care to elaborate?" Dean asked warily while trying to subtly slide himself up the bed and away from the demon. The creature's smile grew.

"Where're you goin', Champ?"

Next thing Dean knew, he was pulled back down and pinned flat to the mattress with his hands locked tightly above his head. He gasped and winced at the pressure, struggling against the invisible bonds.

In the hallway, Sam was beyond frantic. "Dad! It's going to hurt him! We have to do something, now!"

"Just wait a second, Sam! It's still not in the circle! This could be our last chance to get this right. Don't make me knock you unconscious."

Bobby looked to the hall for the signal but didn't receive it. "Damn it, John! What are we waitin' for?"

The demon threw the blankets off of Dean and smirked as it slowly slid an ice cold hand underneath the boy's flimsy t-shirt. If Dean wasn't panicking before, he certainly was now.

"Hey! What are you…?!"

"Shh… Don't worry, you're not my type. My gift to you, to prove how useful it would be to have me on your side. I could protect you, and I could protect Sammy."

The hand settled over the wound in Dean's abdomen. The boy's breath hitched, fearing the pain he was sure he was about to feel. He wasn't disappointed. The pressure against the wound increased and Dean gritted his teeth together, breathing harshly as he tried to control the pain.

"That's it… Stay with me, kid…" the demon praised.

Dean's struggles increased but were no match for the demon's hold over him. Then the cold was replaced by burning heat and he cried out, throwing his head back into the mattress, every tendon in his body taut to the point of tearing as he fought against the agony.

"Stop! Please!" he cried out, losing all control of his pain responses.

To his bewilderment, the pain did stop. Only a memory of it remained, burning dully through his sore and abused body.

The demon smirked again and lifted Dean's shirt till the bandage was visible. Dean was allowed to lift his head a few inches so that he could see as well. The creature peeled the bandage away and Dean gasped in shock. The wound was no more than a neat scar.

"How…? Why…?" He struggled to get his thoughts in order.

"Think about it, Dean. What use are you to me if you're crippled with pain or dying? By my side, you and your brother would be spared from both. That's a hell of a lot more than your dad could ever promise, isn't it?"

"Get the hell away from me! I'm not going to fall for your shit again!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like me to put the wound back?"

Dean tried to control his fear, but the glint in the demon's eyes told him he failed miserably. "If that's what it takes to get you out of my life, then go ahead. Do it."

"You must really think I'm a cold-hearted bastard. I don't want to cause you pain, son. I want to make you be all you can be. I'd be a better father than John ever was. By the way, I know you're out there, Johnny Boy. Little Sammy. Bobby Singer."

John had no reason to hold back anymore and he exploded. "Get the hell away from my boy! He doesn't want anything to do with you!" He let loose both shells from his shotgun, hitting the demon squarely in the chest. They had no impact what-so-ever.

"John, John, John… You know better than that. Salt is one of my favorite condiments."

Bobby burst forth from the closet and quickly lined the last window, effectively trapping the creature in the room, whether he stepped inside the trap or not. The demon laughed.

"Oh, very clever, boys. What are you going to do now? Do tell. This is so amusing I can hardly wait to hear."

"We're gonna send you back to hell where you belong. Sammy, start readin'." He kept one eye on the demon as he reloaded his gun.

Sam pulled himself together as much as he could and began reading the Latin from the spell book. The demon didn't so much as flinch. Dean bounded from the bed, making a valiant effort to reach the hall but was thwarted by the demon.

"Leaving so soon? I think not."

Dean was blasted sideways into the wall and slumped to the floor in a daze. Bobby was making his way over to him when the demon used his powers to shove Bobby back into the closet and seal the doors shut.

Yellow eyes strode over to Dean and pinned him back up against the wall with a hand to his throat. "What's it gonna be, John? Let me outta here, or say goodbye to your eldest?"

"You're bluffing," John snarled, wishing the salt had some affect on the creature and feeling useless for not having a backup.

"Am I? Do you really want to take that chance?" He tightened his grip on Dean's throat. Dean was starting to break out of his stupor and wrapped his own hands around the demon's wrists, trying to pry them from his neck as his oxygen supply was effectively cut off.

"I told you I didn't want to hurt you, Dean. You have your father to thank for this. All he has to do is let me go, but he'd rather see me torture you. I find that to be a bit sadistic, don't you?"

Sam paused long enough to look into his father's fierce eyes, pleading with him to just let the demon go so Dean would be okay.

"Keep reading, Sam," he growled. Sam snapped his eyes back onto the book and continued, struggling against the lump in his throat.

"You really think that spell is gonna work on somethin' like me? You'll have to do better than that, Johnny."

Realizing the demon wasn't impressed or affected by the spell, not to mention the fact that Dean was starting to turn blue, John caved, defeated.

"Alright! Just let him go!"

"Oh I don't think so. I need a little reassurance that you'll let me out without a problem. Future Boy is comin' with me until I get out of this house."

"Not a chance in hell, and he's not involved in your future whatsoever, except maybe to kill you." John growled, shooting down what he thought the demon meant by "Future Boy."

"Think more the past than the future. It's complicated, I know."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, it's too easy to tell you. I'd rather see you struggle. Do you really want to go into detail now? Cause I don't think your boy can take much more oxygen deprivation."

"You're not taking Dean."

"Guess I could just kill him here then." It made as though it were going to snap Dean's neck, turning the now half unconscious boy's neck at an awkward angle.

"Wait! Please. I'll let you out, just don't hurt him anymore."

"Glad we have an understanding. I will leave him at the end of the driveway. Now break the salt line."

"Why should I believe you won't just take Dean and go?"

"What choice do you have? Dean will surrender to his darker nature without me forcing him to, and I will come back for him then. For now, his only use is as a shield."

Without another word, John kicked the salt line apart and stepped aside, pulling Sam with him. The demon loosened its hold on Dean's throat who drew in a desperate breath of air before the creature pulled him forward a foot, then slammed him back into the wall, effectively knocking him unconscious. It cradled Dean's fragile body in its arms and carried him out of the bedroom and then the front door.

It carried its precious cargo all the way to the entrance sign of the motel, then placed him gently on the ground. "Remember this day, Dean Winchester. Your dad will raise you as a soldier, and you will stand by my side and torture innocent souls before the end. Don't disappoint me." With that, it vanished into thin air.

TBC

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