Hey guys, thanks for your support even though I might have made Dean loose, but please trust me one last time and read to the end of this chapter…please? You'll be a little more satisfied.

By the way, all flames are used to roast marshmallows and warm hot chocolate. ;)

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Chapter Six

"What is it?" Sam demanded, peering over his father's shoulder. "Where's Dean?"

John tried to control his emotions, pride swelling up inside of him, as well as grief, anger.

Pride because he had taught his boys to fight. Pride that Dean was using his natural talent to help this family, but the pride was swallowed by other emotions.

Dean knew they weren't supposed to draw attention to themselves. Dean knew the bruises would be checked by social services if teachers saw them.

Dean knew that if the policed stopped an illegal fight club he would be punished. Dean knew Sam needed him free from the law.

Dean knew that despite all his training, there were men bigger and stronger than he. Dean knew this could kill him.

John sighed, wiping his face with one hand, trying to decide on a course of action.

"DAD!" Sam's loud and extremely frantic voice charged into his thoughts like a freight train.

"What Sam?" He asked trying to suppress the voices in his head that were telling him Dean was in trouble.

Satisfied he had John's attention Sam crossed his arms and gave John a look that said Sam was the one in control, whether he liked it or not.

"Where did Dean go?" Sam asks calmly, eyes glaring at John in the unspoken defiance he held.

"Have you read this Sam?" John asked, knowing Sam had. Sam raised an eyebrow in response, as if to say, Duh.

John would have scolded the boy, but he was beginning to think it would have no effect so settled for accepting the answer.

"F.C," He read. "It means Fight Club, I think."

"Fight Club?" Sam asked. John sighed; the damn eleven year old needed a lesson on the illegal activities of people.

"People go to a fight club and punch the hell out of each other for money." John took a deep breath; he didn't add that people died there. He shouldn't worry his son.

Sam saw emotion flitter over his father's face. "People die there." Sam said, it wasn't a question. It was a statement.

John looked at his son. "Dean won't."

Sam watched his father for a moment, apparently he was going to protest and demand they go and rescue his brother. Instead he swallowed.

"What so we do now?"

OoOoOoOo

A cold breeze brushed against his skin. It was night time. He was sure of that.

He couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not, either way all he saw was black.

He was lying on something cold and hard. Just great.

Why did his body hurt so much? Why did everything hurt…even his hair hurt, which apparently was possible.

He tried to remember what had happened, calling for his dad, for Sammy.

But all he heard was a distant groan.

Was that his? Dean stared into the darkness and silently prayed to whatever deity was listening that he would survive.

And maybe, just maybe, one might hear his pleas.

Dean shifted again, a shot of pain forced its way into his side, but his eyes opened. The dark alley around him came into vision faster than he thought it would.

He stumbled to his feet, half swaying, almost toppling back to the ground.

He knew where he was, he had made a point of getting to know the area well before he went to fight.

His eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the alley, which was pretty dull.

His legs taking him where they wanted to go.

He had four hundred dollars to get back, and when Dean Winchester is angry…

Well, let's just hope McFinnigan remembers what happens.

TBC

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You guys don't have a lot of faith in me do you? Trust me; what happens will be much more dramatic this way. ;)

I ask you review and make my day! I tried to make this chapter longer; originally it finished with John and Sam. Your reviews are the reason I am updating today rather than tomorrow.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review. Thanks, keep smilin' :) ShadowMayne