AN: Just a trigger warning for some child abuse. Nothing too graphic, but still unpleasant. Thanks to all my readers and a special thank you to ZeldaIsis and DearHart for their kind reviews.

He'd expected more yelling or maybe some kind of lecture when Abraham and Damaris had climbed into the van, but instead there was an icy silence from the front seats. Sam let Leah snuggle up against his side. She had mostly stopped crying, and he'd hoped that she would fall asleep, but every so often a lone tear would slip down her cheek, making a damp spot on his shirt. Quiet wasn't something that particularly bothered Sam, so he took the opportunity to evaluate his situation as the miles flew past the window.

On the problem side of the equation, he was no longer in the location that he'd given to Jody. That likely meant that he was stuck with the Farlows for a little while longer until she could either track them, or he could find a way to make contact again. He was also still stuck as a pre-teen. Legs aching from last nights' adventure, he was tired, hungry and generally sick of being treated like a child. Lastly, judging by Leah's extreme reaction and continued fear, he figured he was in for one of Abraham's punishments when they stopped.

On the plus side, he felt a bit better that by now, Dean would know what was going on. He had every confidence that Jody would have gotten in touch with his brother. Knowing Dean, he would have moved from panic, to planning mode and rescue was just a matter of time. After everything they had been through, all the ups and downs, there wasn't a single doubt that Dean would move heaven and earth and everything in between to find him. As it always had, that single thought made everything else bearable. The other advantage he had was that although his body was that of a kid, his brain was 100% his.

Abraham drove all afternoon, not stopping for lunch or bathroom breaks or anything else. They had driven through Provo about three hours ago, so it was just about dinner time when they pulled into a shabby-looking motel. If he hadn't felt Leah stiffen in alarm, Sam might have found it soothing. The Sage Canyon Inn was just like the many motels of his childhood, the same dingy sign, peeling paint and dusty windows. It was almost a comfort how familiar it felt. When Abraham climbed out by the office to book a room, Damaris swiveled to look at them in the back seat.

"I hope you are ashamed of yourselves. Enoch has withdrawn his agreement of betrothal and your father has been disgraced." Privately Sam wasn't exactly heartbroken about either of those things. "And your behaviour has diminished our standing in the community which will make it challenging for Father to find work as a preacher. God is disgusted by you both and you will be judged accordingly." She finished with a snarl that had Leah squeak in terror beside him. Abraham got back into the van and drove them to the end of the row of rooms. Damaris hopped out and immediately went inside, but Abraham jerked open the back door before Sam could undo his seatbelt.

"Get our things and get inside," he ordered them. With arms crossed, he glowered at them, supervising as they scrambled to gather the bags. Thankfully, Leah knew the drill and handed him what he needed to carry. Once they had joined Damaris in their room, Sam heard the engine start and Abraham left. The bony woman had pulled a baggie of bleach wipes from her purse and was wiping down the surfaces, sniffing in displeasure at the state of the kitchenette. She thrust one in Leah's direction.

"Bathroom, now!" The girl leapt into action and retreated to the small room to clean. Sam sat down at the scratched Formica table. After a short while Leah joined him. Damaris produced a well-worn Bible, sat primly on the edge of the bed farthest from the door, and began to read out loud. Leah's hands were shaking where they sat, so Sam reached over and covered them with his own.

"It will be okay," he whispered, not willing to draw Damaris' attention, but Leah just stared at the pocked surface, trembling like a leaf. Outside the van pulled into the parking space and the door slammed, making Leah jump to her feet. Sam joined her unsure of what to do. Abraham opened the door and set a couple of brown bags down on the counter. When he turned to face them, he had a heavy wooden rod in his hands. The look on the bearded man's face had Sam's stomach dropping and his previous confidence dissipated like mist.

"Leah, get in the bathroom and lock the door." He shoved her behind him and put himself between Abraham and the girl. She clutched at his shirt, so he pried her hand free and gave it a squeeze. "Go. It'll be okay," he told her with a smile he didn't feel. With a last panicked look, she did as she was told so that Sam faced the threat on his own. The intimidating man loomed over him, blocking access to the exit and Sam wished, not for the first time, for his own body.

He was able to deflect the first blow by turning, but he took the full brunt of it on his shoulder. Fiery pain, shot through his whole arm. After that, it was all he could do to protect his head as the battering continued. When he tried to dodge under Abraham's swing, Noah's father tripped him, bringing him crashing to his knees on the dirty carpet. He thought he felt something crack as a powerful whack hit his ribs, and blood streamed down his nose where he'd caught another backhanded wallop. He was no stranger to pain, but Noah was a skinny kid, his body without much in the way of muscle, so Sam felt every brutal blow. At long last, Abraham stopped, bent over and panting from the exertion. Damaris was still placidly reading aloud as if nothing had happened.

Sam laid still and tried to catch his breath. He hadn't lost consciousness, so other than the cracked ribs, he was just bloody and badly bruised. No other bones were broken, as far as he could tell, so Sam knew from experience that even though he hurt, he would heal in time. After a moment, Abraham walked over to the counter, set down his weapon and began to pull take out containers from the bags he'd carried in earlier. Damaris closed her book and set it on the night table.

"Noah, go get cleaned up for supper. And get your sister to wash her filthy hands." Her lack of compassion was hardly surprising at this point, but she acted like he'd been rolling in the dirt, not being beaten bloody by her husband. Unbidden, Sam thought of something Dean had often said about understanding demons far better than people. In this case, Sam had to agree. Stumbling slowly to his feet, he shuffled over to the bathroom and knocked softly.

"Leah, it's me. Open the door." It took a minute, but then the lock turned, and he was able to push inside the small room, closing the flimsy door behind him. Leah was huddled under the sink, her face buried in her hands. Mindful of his ribs, he crouched down in front of her, a small groan escaping his lips that he tried his best to muffle. When she looked up at his bloody face she gasped.

"Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, but she was a child who should never have had to see her brother like this. Sam shrugged with his good shoulder.

"It looks worse than it is." She stared at him with awe and admiration that made Sam very uncomfortable. He gently tugged her arm to coax her to her feet. "C'mon, wash your hands and go get something to eat." With a little nudge, she wiped her wet hands on her skirt and then slipped into the main room, leaving him standing in front of the sink.

Alone at last, Sam stared at his reflection in the spotty mirror. It was so strange to see someone else looking back at him. Not only was he blood-splattered, but his skin was itchy with dried sweat. There had been no chance to get clean since he'd left the hospital on Thursday night. Turning the lock, he carefully shucked his clothes and turned on the shower. The pressure was weak but stepping under the warm water felt like a gift. There wasn't any soap, but there was one of those tiny bottles of shampoo. With his ribs throbbing, he couldn't do much more than swipe through his hair a few times, but he scrubbed the best he could, then let the water wash everything down the drain. He stood under the water until there was a loud thump on the door.

"Noah, come eat!" Turning off the water, he toweled off as quickly as he was able. He knew there was a change of clothes in Noah's bag, but Sam wasn't comfortable leaving the bathroom in only a towel, so he painfully redressed in what he'd been wearing. Cracking open the door, he cautiously peeked into the room. Leah was sitting cross legged on the floor with some schoolwork spread out in front her. Damaris was sitting nearby on the tatty sofa, leaning over her daughter to point out something on one of the worksheets.

Abraham was sitting at the small table, writing something in a large, spiral bound journal, and placed neatly beside him was a container of food and some plastic cutlery. It was the picture of happy domesticity, completely out of place considering the violence that had happened a short time ago. Putting aside his pen, Abraham gestured him over. Reluctantly, Sam shuffled over, keeping one of the rickety chairs between him and the man.

"Son, I'm ready for your apology and then you can eat," Abraham said pleasantly. If someone were able to see into the room, they would see nothing more than a calm and patient father, gently chastising a naughty child. All traces of the madman who had beat his son were gone. The juxtaposition made Sam's head spin, but he had no choice other than to play along.

"I'm sorry, Father," he murmured. Abraham's heavy hand tousled his wet hair affectionately although Sam itched to cringe away.

"God is a merciful master," he said with a smile. "Now, sit and we'll bless this food for you."

xxxxxx

Mary arrived at the hospital just as visiting hours were about to begin. The parking lot was pretty busy, but it was Saturday, so she supposed it was a popular time to visit for those who had a nine to five job. Making her way to Dean's room, she found herself humming. Jody's call last night was a huge relief, and she was sure that the news about Sam would lift Dean's spirits. As she peeked in the door, she saw that her eldest son was awake and doing his best to eat breakfast with one arm in a cast and the other still hampered by the sling. He was trying to peel the foil top off his fruit cup when it slipped out of his fingers.

"God damn it!" he bitched as the little plastic cup bounced off his tray and onto the bed. Mary picked it up and pulled off the top, putting it back on the tray in front of him.

"You look like you need a hand," she asked with a fond smile, one that she was happy to see he returned.

"Hey Mom," he greeted her. "No, I need two," he groused, holding up his impaired limbs. Ignoring the tiny plastic spoon, he tossed back the fruit cup like a shot of whiskey, chewing only a few times before he swallowed.

"Are you sure? I still remember how to do the train into chew-chew town." She had to laugh out loud at his indignant expression. He shoved the swinging table that held the tray away from him.

"Nah, I'm good." He may look cranky but there was a lightness about Dean that hadn't been there yesterday. Maybe it was the good pain meds, or a solid night's sleep, but whatever the reason, she was grateful.

"So, I have some good news," she began.

"Let me guess, Jack is up and around and ready to fix me up?" There was a hopefulness in his tone that he tried to hide with sarcasm, but Mary knew he had to be at least a little frustrated by his current situation. The fact that it was temporary didn't make being immobilized in bed any easier.

"Not yet, but Cas tells me that he's getting better. This is something else. Last night I got a call from Jody." All he did was raise an eyebrow, but it was enough to tell Mary that he was aware of the distance that had grown between her and the Sheriff. "Yeah," she admitted. "It was nice to hear from her, but it wasn't a social call. She found Sam!" She couldn't contain the little thrill that ran through her, but Dean wasn't quite as excited. A brief flash of fear crossed his face before he quickly schooled it into something more neutral. Picking bits off the top of his discarded muffin, he didn't meet her eyes.

"So, where did he end up? The Empty? Heaven, or let me guess, Hell?" Although he visibly braced himself for what he certainly thought was going to be bad news, there was a quiver in his voice that she'd never heard before. She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Oh Dean, no. He's in Idaho."

He looked into her eyes with a sudden wild hope that made her heart melt. Then he shifted around, struggling to sit up higher. "Idaho? Isn't Rowena doing some kinda spell on him back at the bunker?"

She nodded, pushed the button to help raise the head of his bed, then pulled up a chair. This was a bit of a story, one that she would have dismissed as nonsense if her own recent past wasn't even more unbelievable.

"Yeah, Rowena is keeping his regular body safe and sound, but right now he's walking around inside a little boy. He was worried that he'd been swapped with the child…" An oddly guilty look crossed Dean's face, so she paused.

"Uh, yeah, that happened to him before. Kid warlock. It's a long story." He shook his head and waved away the distraction. "So, if Sam's in the kid, where's the real boy?" Mary could only shrug. Jody hadn't had any insight and she had no idea.

"No clue," she admitted.

"Well, is Sammy okay?" Dean asked.

"He told Jody that he was fine, but that he needed some help getting away from the parents of the boy. She knows where he is, and she's working on getting him home." When Jody had called, she hadn't asked a lot of questions about her plan, and she was kicking herself now. Dean would probably want every detail, but she had nothing much to tell him. She trusted Jody, but Mary knew that Dean didn't think anyone capable of watching out for his brother except for him. True to form, he sighed.

"So, uh, what's the plan?" And that was one of the questions to which Mary didn't have an answer.

"Jody didn't say, but she seemed really confident that it wouldn't be a problem." It was obvious that Dean didn't like being in the dark when it came to Sam, but he just gave her a nod. Wanting to give him something, she rushed to add. "I'll call her this morning and get an update, okay?" Just then an orderly came to pick up the remains of Dean's breakfast and the nurse followed moments later. Apparently, it was time for the nurse to give Dean a bath, so Mary excused herself and headed to the cafeteria for another cup of coffee.

xxxxxx

Jody was getting awfully tired of being woken up by her phone. She'd been driving since early morning and had made it all the way to Casper before she had to pull over and get some sleep. As much as it pained her to admit it, her days of going non-stop were over, she wasn't a spring chicken anymore. The whole, 'put your own face mask on first' idea really rang true when you had three young women at home, and a city to protect. Checking into some random little motel just off the highway, all she'd been interested in was at least a few hours of shut eye.

Fumbling with the phone, she cleared the sleep from her voice before answering, "Sheriff Mills."

"Hey Sheriff, it's Rob Fisher from Elton." It took a second for the name to click in her groggy brain. This was the guy in Idaho who hadn't wanted to do the welfare check on Sam. The fact that he was calling her now woke her up a bit more as her heart began to pound. There were a hundred different ways this whole situation could go sideways, and she said a silent prayer that Sam was okay.

"Yeah, of course. What can I do for you, Chief?" She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and sat up on the side of the bed. Outside the window she could hear the traffic noise of a busy afternoon on the roads.

"Well, earlier this afternoon I drove out to Reverend Wittmer's place and asked after that kid you called about. The family in question left late this morning. The Reverend said they were headed to Hansen, Utah." Jody tucked the phone under her ear and pulled the notepad and pen from the night table closer.

"Hansen? That spelled with an 'e'?"

"Yep, that's it. Listen, the Reverend said that the father is a bit of a loose cannon, and the boy is a troublemaker, but he didn't think the kids were in any danger." He sounded apologetic, but Jody had no time for his guilty conscience. If the damn officer had done his job when she called, Sam would be safe right now instead of God knows where in Utah.

"Uh, huh. Do you know exactly when they left?" She didn't bother to hide the irritation in her voice.

"About 11:00 or so this morning. If they took route 84, they would have crossed into Utah just after lunch. Look, if you're really worried about the kids, now that they've crossed state lines, you could put a call into the Feds." Oh, now that he'd dropped the ball, he was just full of suggestions. Still, there was no point in burning a bridge she might need to cross later, so she tried to take some of the snark out of her tone.

"I appreciate that, but for now I think I'm good. After all, didn't the Reverend say the kids weren't in any danger?" Now that she had a new destination, she had to get moving. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll take it from here." Hanging up without saying goodbye was rude, but that was too bad for him. According to Google maps, she had another 8-hour drive in front of her to try and catch up to Sam. Pulling on her boots, she ran a hand through her hair as a comb and started gathering her stuff, eager to get on the road.