Disclaimer: I do now own Supernatural.

This story is unbeta'ed. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: There is a small part of sexual molestation. Nothing graphic. There is NO rape in this story.

Chapter 3

James walked to the area where the food was placed, filling up his plate. Rebecka walked over to Sam. She saw that he was almost finished eating.

"Did you enjoy it?" Rebecka asked.

"I did," Sam said. "Thank you."

"No thanks required," Rebecka said, smiling. "I found a bed for you. Let's get you settled."

Rebecka held out her hand for Sam to follow. The two of them walked down a corridor on the opposite side from the entrance door.

James sat down with his food. He looked up and saw his target walking down the hall.

Rebecka entered a room that housed ten cots in it.

"I know it isn't much," Rebecka said.

"It's fine," Sam said quickly. "It would be nice to stretch out."

"I'm sure," Rebecka said. "The cot at the end is empty."

Sam and Rebecka walked towards the cot. Sam put his duffel bag at the head of the bed and sat down. The bed was amazingly comfortable. Or maybe it was because he had been sleeping in chairs or benches for the past three weeks. Either way, he didn't lie; it would be nice to stretch out.

"Now, I'll tell you," Rebecka said, a tone of warning in her voice. "Even though this gives you a place to sleep. Don't trust who is in this room. Keep your things close. I've known people who lost their only items by not sleeping with them."

Sam nodded. He wasn't a stranger to sleeping lightly. Though the last time he had to, it was with Dean, and he kept watch over him the night. If not, they slept in the same cot. It was moments and memories like that that made Sam wish his brother was here. But that would be impossible.

Dean was doing what he loved: hunting. He didn't have his younger brother standing in his way; he didn't have to watch over his "baby" brother all the time. Dean could be his own person.

"I'm putting you at the end of the room so that you can have the wall to put your duffel between you and it," Rebecka said. "I'm sure you won't be able to stretch out if you're guarding your things."

Sam smiled at the thoughtfulness of this woman that he just met.

"Thank you," Sam said. "You've done so much for me. You remind me of my brother."

"Well, thank you," Rebecka said. "Well, I have to go back. Try and get some sleep."

"I will."

Rebecka started to walk away but stopped.

"Listen," Rebecka said. "I know you'll probably leave in the morning. I won't be here, but before you go, get some breakfast. They usually have things that you can take with you. I know you probably don't have what I bought you, so take as much as you need."

"Thanks."

"Good night, Sam."

"Good night."

Sam watched Rebecka leave. He looked at the cot and saw that it was bigger than he expected. Laying his duffel by the wall, Sam laid down. He didn't know if it was because he hadn't laid flat on a surface, or if he was exhausted, but this was the best he felt in a very long time. Just in case he fell into a deep sleep, Sam wrapped the strap of his duffel around him as if he was standing up, walking with it. So, if someone tried to take it or get in it, he would know. Feeling himself laying flat, sleep came quickly. Sam smirk a little before succumbing to the blissfulness of sleep.

_000_000_000

Dean sat in the booth, staring at the boy sitting across from him. He couldn't believe what he just heard. Rape and kidnapping. Sam couldn't do something like that. He has a deep respect for women.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked. The anger was intense in his voice. "Sam would never do that."

"Hey," Brady said, holding up his hands in a surrendering gesture. "I don't believe it either. But that's what he's being accused of."

Dean shook his head, running his fingers through his cropped hair. He just couldn't wrap his head around it. There must be something that isn't being said.

"Look," Brady said, "I know Sam didn't do it."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"The day that he was accused, he was with me," Brady said. "That's why he wasn't just kicked out of school. They're investigating the situation."

"If they're investigating, why did Sam leave?"

"The girl that accused him threatened to call the cops. The investigation was kept within the school. Stanford didn't want the stigma or the press that would come with this sort of thing happening." Brady said, leaning back in the booth. "Something scared Sam, and he left during the night. He was staying with me, but he bailed."

"How did he lose his phone?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Brady said. "I suspect that his phone was the damning evidence that convicted him."

"All right," Dean said. "Tell me everything."

Dean and Brady sat in the diner and talked for another hour. Anyone looking at the pair could see that walking by the table would be a death sentence. Some other patrons felt the waitress was impenetrable, not being scared walking by the table.

_000_000_000

James finished eating. Now he was on a mission. He saw his target walking through another door. James saw Rebecka dealing with another person. He walked over to her.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Rebecka asked James when the other man left her.

"I did," James said. "Thank you so much. It had been a long time since I've had a warm meal."

"Well, I'm glad that we were able to give you at least something filling now," Rebecka said, smiling. "Do you have someplace to sleep?"

"I usually sleep around the park," James said. "A couple of hours at a time. Don't want to give the police a reason to bother me."

"Well, that can't do," Rebecka said. "I have a few cots in the back. It isn't much, but at least you'll be warm. And you can have breakfast in the morning."

"That's very sweet of you," James said, smiling. "It would be nice to lay down."

"Follow me," Rebecka said.

She turned and walked through the same doors that she walked James' target through. James smirked as he followed the woman.

This was just too easy, James thought.

When they got to the room, it was almost full. There were only three free cots.

"Take a cot that you want," Rebecka said. "Have a good night."

Rebecka left before James could respond. James looked up and down the rows of cots. He saw Sam lying against the wall fast asleep. James was upset that someone else was in bed next to him. But a few cots down was a free one. James walked over there and sat on the bed.

Around the room, everyone was getting ready to go to sleep. James figured if he were quiet enough, he wouldn't disturb anyone else in the room. He didn't want to raise suspicion on himself, so he laid down.

It didn't take a whole hour for everyone in the room to fall asleep. James looked around in the dimmed lighted room and saw that everyone was sleeping peacefully. Since it was fast for everyone to go asleep, he decided to wait another hour to make his move.

Because James was excited about what he was going to do, he couldn't lay still. He didn't want to move too much as the cots were a little squeaky when you moved. Most people that were here were genuine homeless people, so they rarely moved while they were asleep.

When James felt that it was enough time, he got up as quietly as he could. There was minimal squeaking when he stood. It was nothing that would wake the others up—James tipped-toed towards Sam's cot. James pulled something out of the small of his back: a seven-inched hunting knife. It was smooth on one side and jagged on the other. James always kept his knives razor thin. The slightest touch would cut the intended target.

Wrapping his hand around his knife so that it was leaning against his arm, James lowered himself over Sam, and in one swift movement, James clasped his hand over Sam's mouth and put his knife against his chest.

Sam cursed himself for not staying alert. He let his comfort dull his instincts. It was this moment now that he wished his big brother was here having his back. Sam felt the hand over his mouth before he felt the sharp blade on his neck. When he opened his eyes, it took a moment for him to recognize who was over him. Because his duffel was behind him, James had Sam's head at an awkward angle.

James leaned lower so that he was inches from Sam's face.

"Well, well, well," James whispered. "Better keep the noise down. Don't want to wake up everyone else."

Sam continued trying to struggle from the grasp as best he could with a knife at his neck. He could feel a small trickle of blood sliding down his throat into his shirt.

"Shh," James said soothingly. "Quiet now. It will be all right."

Sam looked around the limited sight that he had and saw that it was dimly lit. His arms were stuck. One under his body, the other one was pinned between his back and the duffel.

James moved the knife down to the crotch of Sam's pants.

"I knew I wanted you the minute I saw you at the bus stop," James cooed.

James ogled Sam up and down his body. It made Sam feel dirty at how James was looking at him. Sam tried to suppress a shiver of disgust. As slow as Sam could so not to give himself away, he reached in his back pocket.

Dean always told Sam to keep a five-inch pocketknife on him at all times. Sam kept it in his back pocket so long that if he didn't have it there, Sam would feel like he was naked.

Sam was glad that James moved the knife away from his neck, but he didn't want to get cut on his leg or worse his sensitive area. Using the dimmed lighting to his advantage, Sam carefully pulled out his knife as silently as he could. Using James' talking as a cover to camouflage the sound of the clicking, Sam was able to open it.

"Sweet eye candy," James murmured.

James let go of the knife so that he could feel his prize, giving it a mild squeeze.

Sam couldn't help the groan feeling this man's hand on him. Out of instinct, Sam swung his arm around slicing James' arm. The ferocity of the swing made a deep cut on James' arm. James fell away, falling on the floor, screaming. That woke everyone up in the room.

Sam stood up, saw James gripping his now bleeding arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Looking down at his molester, Sam swung back his leg as far back as he could. The youngest Winchester kicked James in between his legs, causing James to grunt and involuntarily vomit on the floor. Sam was about to kick him again when he felt more hands on him. Sam turned around on the person on him, ready to defend himself. He was holding the knife out in front of him.

"Hey," a man said. "Calm down. It's cool."

"Are you all right?" another person asked.

"What's going on?" Someone else asked that was on the other side of the room.

Sam didn't like the attention, so he rushed out, squeezing through the crowd, leaving the shelter.

Well, the idea of sleeping comfortably just wasn't in Sam's future. Sam was on full adrenalin. He just wanted to get as far away from the shelter as he could. Sam didn't notice that he was heading back to the school. And right now, he didn't care. The only thing on Sam's mind was run.

At this moment right now, all Sam wanted was his big brother. He wanted Dean badly. The more he thought about it; he could still feel that man's hands on him. He wanted to cry after what happened. But he would hold his own.

Sam looked down at his hands. The knife was still open, and his hand was bloody. Probably from James when he cut him. He needed to clean his hands before someone got the wrong idea. Sam knew that in the park, there were small restrooms. It took a few minutes to get to the park. Sam tried to stay in the shadows.

Around a group of trees was a small building. Sam headed there and went inside, rushing to the sink and scrubbed his hands over and over. Red liquid swirled down the drain. Sam continued washing until the water was clear. His knife included.

Once he finished, Sam put the knife back in his pocket. He peaked out of the building. Since his attack, Sam was wary if someone was following him. When he didn't see anyone, Sam left, heading back towards the school.

_000_000_000

Dean was enraged. Hearing the specifics of the so-called case against his baby brother was lacking in crucial evidence. Keeping certain people quiet or not speaking to them was just too shady. There was a reason why Sam ran. The school was out to get him. The question was why.

"We need to go back to the school," Dean said. "I need to find out what the real reason for blaming my brother."

"Where do you want to start first?" Brady asked, gathering his things so they can leave.

Dean pulled some money out of his wallet and stood up.

"Let's start with your dorm," Dean said. "There has to be a reason they are targeting Sam."

Dean and Brady headed to the Impala.

_000_000_000

The adrenalin that was coursing through Sam's blood was draining. The sleepiness was creeping into Sam's mind. He went down the street and saw a diner. Sam smirked as he recognized the diner. It would be the same place he and Brady would go for lunch or dinner. The food was good.

_000_000_000

Dean and Brady got into the car.

"You live on campus or off?" Dean asked, turning on the engine.

"On," Brady replied, closing the door. "But it is at the end. People hardly walk down that far."

"Okay."

Dean pulled out of the parking lot going back to the school.

Neither one saw the tall, lanky guy walking towards the diner.

_000_000_000

The closer Sam got to the diner, the more excited he was feeling. The chance to sit down and warm up. He had enough change to get himself some coffee.

The roar of an engine brought an old feeling back up. For all his life, he knew that sound. The first thing that popped in his head was Dean. A renewed energy filled Sam as he ran towards the sound.

Sam saw the familiar sight of the taillights of the Impala.

"Dean."

TBC

A/N: Thank you to everyone that has reviewed, favored, and followed my story.

Please leave a review letting me know what you think of it.

Many hugs and kisses to you!

Mandancie