SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

Arwennicole (ch 1-3): Thanks. I take you love it? Well, I can't make any promises.

Kokomocalifornia: Thanks.

Windyfontaine: Thanks. Of course. Thanks. Yep. I will. You too.

Chocolate rules (ch 1-3): Glad I could give you a happy. Yep. It's a sequel. Glad you're game. Yep. You're right. I agree...even though I'm the one who did it to him. Yep. You shoulda. Exactly. Well, we'll see.

Jayme (1-3): Thanks. Glad you think so. Here's more. Thanks.

Mimifoxlove: Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Yep. You're absolutely right. Happy Easter to you and everybody else too.

IheartPadalecki: Glad I could give you a happy.

Phx: Thanks. Glad you liked it. Well, you're gonna have to keep waitin' and you're absolutely right.

DISCLAIMER

Supernatural belongs to the WB, which will soon be the CW. I only own Hollinger. From now on, straight memories will be in italics and dreams will be bold\italics.

"You wanna explain to me what happened back there?" Dean questioned. The younger Winchester looked up from his burger to see his brother's piercing gaze. What was his brother getting at?

"What do you mean?" Sam wondered. He can't possibly know...can he? he frantically wondered. He had been so careful not to make a scene. There's no way that Dean could've made made the connection between him and Hollinger.

"I'm talking about how that guy back in the bar had you shaking in your shoes," Dean answered. He watched as some of the light in his brother's eyes faded. He frowned. That only happened when Sammy had something he didn't want to talk about. Like the whole mess with Bloody Mary and the fact that he had dreamt about Jessica's death before it had even happened.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked guardedly.

"I saw you two, Sam. I saw you step away from him," Dean stated. He didn't want to cause his brother any emotional pain, but if something was going on with him, as the big brother, he had a right to know. Sam blew out a breath. Aw, dang it. I was hopin' he wouldn't notice, he thought unhappily.

"Dean, please. I'm---I'm just not ready," he said. Dean was going to press the issue until he saw the pleading look in his brother's eyes.

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly. Dang Sammy and his puppy dog eyes, he thought bitterly. Even when they were kids, Sammy could get his way just by looking at him with those big brown eyes. After they had finished the meals, the boys settled down for the night. Sam winced softly as his back touched the bed.

"You all right?" Dean checked. That thing had scratched his brother up pretty bad, and even with their first aid training, he wasn't too sure he had managed to entirely erase the possibility of infection.

"I'll heal," Sam answered. Yeah, his new scratches would heal, but he'd always have the other scars. But Dean didn't need to know that.

"You sure?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"'Kay," Dean accepted. With that, he turned on his side and was soon fast asleep. Sam, however, took a bit longer to get settled. The younger boy moaned.

"You little brat!" Hollinger shouted.

"Oh, man. Not again," Sam moaned. The man lunged at him, knocking the boy to the ground. He struggled, but to no avail. The man was too strong. One of the older boys tried to pull Hollinger away, but was knocked back. Hollinger reared back a fist and Sam quickly raised his arms in order to protect his face. He gave a soft grunt of pain at the impact. Sam rolled over in his sleep, his face twisted in pain. Sam shook and backed away. He couldn't believe this was happening again. Why did this always happen?

"Don't even think about it, kid," Hollinger threatened. Sam fell to the floor and raised his hands in a protective stance. He winced when he felt something sting his wrists.

"No. No please. Stop," he begged.

"Shut up," Hollinger sneered. He kicked Sam, who let out a small cry of pain.

"Please, stop. Please," the boy pleaded. Hollinger just gave a jeering laugh. Sam made a small noise in his sleep as sweat began to pour down his face. But he couldn't stop the nightmares. He was trapped inside his own mind. In the middle of the night, the door opened.

"Boys?" a voice asked. The sixteen-year old boy in front of Sam sat straight up and pushed the fourteen-year old behind him.

"What's the matter, Mickey? Afraid I've moved on?" Hollinger questioned.

"You'll never get to him. Not while I'm here," Mickey responded. Sam shut his eyes and covered his ears, but it didn't completely drown out the sounds. In his sleep, and unnoticed by Dean, Sam began to cry.