Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, not gettin' paid for this.

A/N: There's nothing too graphic in this chapter, but it's not happy times. Thanks for sticking with me; let me know what you think!

Scars from the Past

Chapter 6

John walked through the small town, stopping people on the street to ask if they had seen his son. No one had. He wandered in and out of the few businesses, asking the same question, but he came up empty. He briefly considered talking to the sheriff, but that could cause more problems than it would solve, so he discounted that idea for now.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean struggled with the handcuffs, but there was no way to get out of them. He watched as Wally rummaged in the case and tried not to react when he turned back to the bed holding a scalpel.

"Dude, Wally," he said with more confidence than he felt. "What do you think you're doing?"

Wally smiled coldly. "I told you. Ellen said I should keep you company."

"No VCR? There are some movies I've been wanting to see."

Wally laughed, turning the weapon so it glittered in the dim light. Dean watched, panic starting to build. His mind whirled, trying in vain to figure a way out of the room. Wally put the scalpel on the floor, out of Dean's reach but well within his line of sight.

"You know," Wally said as he turned back to the leather case. "Your father has caused me a lot of trouble over the years. He thinks he knows so much about me. He doesn't know anything. He uses my information, but looks at me like I'm worse than the dirt on his shoe."

"That's what this is about?" Dean said, trying to keep his voice light. "Come on, Dude."

Wally glanced at him. "Damn Winchesters."

"How did you get Ellen to work with you?" Dean asked. He didn't believe that Wally was in charge of the operation, but thought if he could somehow stroke Wally's ego it would help his situation.

Wally turned back to Dean; he was holding a large candle and a lighter.

"Let's start small, shall we?"

OOOOOOOOOOO

John leaned against his car, waiting for Jim to answer his phone. He was just about to hang up when the other man answered.

"It's me." John said.

"Have you found him?"

"No. It's like he's dropped off the face of the earth. Do you have anything?"

"I called Caleb; he's on his way here. Other than that? Nothing."

"Jim – " John paused. "My son--."

"I know, John, I know. We'll find him."

John ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath. "Okay. I don't think he's here, but I'm not ready to leave yet. I'm going to do some more looking. I'll call in an hour."

OOOOOOOOOOO

Dean groaned as he rolled over onto his side. Wally had gotten bored with the flame quickly, but not before he'd left a fairly substantial burn on Dean's shoulder. He didn't know where Wally had wandered off to, and Dean wished his head would clear long enough to figure out how to outsmart him.

Wally had used the scalpel to cut away Dean's shirt and it lay in tatters across the room. He had hoped Wally would leave it within his reach, but he put it back into the leather case along with the candle and lighter once he was done with them. Still handcuffed to the bed, there was no way for him to escape the prison he found himself in.

He didn't think the objective was to kill him. For some reason, Ellen was using him to get to his father and he would have to be alive for that to work. As he drifted back into unconsciousness, he wondered where Ellen had gone.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Caleb, thanks for coming." John said later. He'd given up his search in the small town; he even went so far as to go against his instincts and contact the sheriff. Caleb was a fellow hunter and someone John trusted implicitly.

"You know I'm here whenever you need me. Shit, man, what did you do to Ellen?"

John shrugged. "I don't know, but I'm not so sure it matters. And if she has my boy, she'll be in touch."

"You'd think she'd have been in touch by now." Jim said as he joined his friends in the living room. "It's been hours."

As if on cue, John's cell phone rang. He glanced at his friends before answering it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, John. How are you?" Ellen said lightly. "You've done some driving today, haven't you?"

"Where is he?" John asked angrily.

"Watch your tone, John." she said seriously. "You might offend me."

"I'm going to do more than offend you if you hurt my son."

Ellen laughed. "You'll get him back when I'm done with him."

"What do you want?"

"Many things, really. That's why I'm not working alone."

"You count Wally as not working alone?"

"Of course not. The man is an idiot, but he has some useful… talents."

"Who, then?"

"That isn't important right now."

"Look, this is between you and me. Tell me where to meet you and we'll just handle this in person. Leave my son out of it."

"Oh John!" she laughed. "I do so enjoy talking to you. And maybe we will meet in person, but not just yet."

"Why did you call?"

"Mainly just to rub it in. In fact, that's the only reason I called." she laughed again. "We'll talk again soon."

She hung up before John could say anything else. He closed his cell phone and threw it across the room, onto the couch. After taking a few moments to collect himself, he relayed the conversation to his friends.

OOOOOOOOOOO

"Hi."

Dean didn't bother opening his eyes. Wally had been back to the room twice since burning him and each time he left, Dean had another injury. He wasn't sure what hurt the most – the handcuffs cutting into his wrists, the pain from the burn, the sting of the cut on his leg from the broken glass or the headache and nausea he felt whenever Wally was in the room.

In addition to the physical pain Wally caused, he also taunted Dean. He questioned John's commitment to his sons, referenced Sam leaving the family and not caring about Dean and made inappropriate jokes about Mary dying at the hands of something evil. Dean tried not to listen; tried not to let Wally's words bother him, but he wasn't completely successful. Already insecure about Sam's reasons for leaving and blaming himself, it had left a huge hole in him. Wally's words easily found their way into the wound.

Dean didn't doubt his father's love for him, but sometimes he lost track of it. He had no idea how long he'd been held captive and in a weakened physical state, it was easy to fall into a well of self-pity. He just wanted the pain to stop and he didn't think it would until John found him.

Wally dropped a slice of bread on Dean's exposed chest. "Just in case you're hungry."

Dean ignored him.

"Ellen should be back soon." Wally said. "I'm not sure what she has in mind for you, then."

Wally shook his arm. "Are you asleep?"

Dean slowly opened his eyes and glared at him. Wally grinned.

"So do you think your father is looking for you?" he asked conversationally.

Dean said nothing.

Wally leaned against the closed door. "He's not going to find you here. But don't worry, because we're not going to kill you. That's not our job."

He knelt in front of the case. "Like I said, Ellen will be back soon. She's been making preparations –"

Wally stopped speaking when he heard Ellen calling his name. He sighed. "Damn. I wasn't done yet."

A moment later the door opened and Ellen stood just outside the room.

"I see you've kept yourself busy." she said, looking at Dean. "It doesn't look like you hurt him too badly."

Wally smiled at her.

"Get him ready. We're taking him home."

Wally looked at her. "What?"

"You heard me. He wants us to take him home."

"He –"

She glared at Wally. "Yes. He. Now do it."

"Uh – Ellen – wait – " Wally stuttered as Ellen started to walk away.

She turned back to face him. "What?"

"The powder?"

"He doesn't look like he's capable of hurting a flea." she smiled coldly. "Or didn't you do your job as well as you should have?"

"I did my job." Wally said defensively. "But you know those Winchesters –"

"Fine." Ellen approached Dean. She blew white power in his face and, just like before, he felt the darkness overtake him yet again.