Disclaimer: This story has the typical violence you'll see in the show along with all the angst. I try not to get too off character or too violent, but I'm giving it a mature rating just to be on the safe side.

I of course own nothing and get nothing but the satisfaction of writing the story and hopefully making it enjoyable for others as well. Comments are always welcome, good or bad. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it.

---

John sat near the sink washing the bloody towel out before dabbing it against his eyebrow were it was still bleeding. Dean was on the floor panting and holding his bleeding nose. It has been three weeks since Sam had disappeared and Dean was losing it. He blamed himself for not protecting his baby brother and when his dad had come back to the motel with no news again he'd blown up. His dad tried to play drill sergeant and tell him to snap out of it and get a hold of himself, but instead Dean actually blew up at him. When he'd grabbed Dean by the shirt collar, Dean had reacted by pushing and punching him. It only took him one hit to knock Dean back, not only away from him but back to reality. Dean had immediately apologized and sank into the sitting position he was still in.

The motel room had been uncomfortably quiet since.

John finished cleaning up the cut and moved across the room past Dean to the table and the computer. Dean sat on the floor for a little bit longer before he got up and went to the sink to clean up. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could tell just how little sleep he'd gotten. The dark circles under his eyes and pale complexion made him look away. As he turned the water off, his cell phone rang.

Dean almost leapt over the bed to get to it. John sat up, watching and listening to everything Dean said. Dean opened the phone and brought it to his ear, "Hello?"

"Dean?"

"Yeah. Hey Sarah." Dean's voice almost cracked with disappointment. Sarah had survived her ordeal, after spending several days in a coma and then another week in the hospital. But she was home now and just as worried about Sam as the rest of them. She called Dean at least once a day to ask if there was any news and to offer her support.

"I guess there's no news then. I'm sorry Dean." Sarah's voice was soft and more of a whisper. Dean knew that she was just as worried and taking this just as hard. She'd tried to blame herself, but Dean had told her in no uncertain terms that it was not her fault and the bastards that had taken him would pay dearly. But that was almost two weeks ago and Dean's fire had turned into self judgment and desperate cling to hope.

---

Sam had no idea where he was. He did know that he'd been here for weeks with no sign of anyone other than these three individuals obviously possessed. There was always a man at the end of the hallway when ever he would open the door to his room. Today was a little different though.

There were no windows. The room was old, but not falling apart. The wallpaper was peeling in the corners and the pattern was definitely old style. But the furniture was very comfortable, even if it creaked with age when he sat down. It was strange, but even though he'd hit them a couple of times with various pieces, breaking the furniture, they always replaced them. He tried several time to leave, but never got past the guard at the end of the hallway. The first few times he'd fight with which ever guy was there, then he'd end up back in the room. After that, he never made it to the end of the hallway. They'd just jerk their heads, he'd be thrown back into the room, and the door would close in his face. For the last week he'd occasionally open the door to check, but would just close it back once he saw the guard. It was pointless to fight them.

He hadn't opened the door at all yesterday. He just sat on the bed or in the chair contemplating his situation. They'd come in with food three times each day. They fed him well too. He couldn't remember a time when he'd actually had a decent meal. Well, it caused his heart to ache when he thought about it, but he remembered the meal with Sarah in the fancy restaurant when they were investigating the portrait. But that was in the past. Just like Jessica. Just like his mom. Just like Dean. Tears welled in his eyes and he tried to push his mind to think of something else. His dad was still out there somewhere, wasn't he? Sam was pretty sure they would have made a point to tell him if they'd killed his father too. Wasn't that their game? To break him?

Today was different though. He sat in the chair looking at the table where his empty lunch dishes sat. They'd brought him a very tasty lasagna dish and garlic bread. He was definitely satisfied with the meal. The chair was lush and he rested his head lazily on the back of it breathing slowly and fighting back the desire to curl up and take a nap. Instead, he got up and opened the door. The hallway was empty.

Sam swallowed and stepped out of the room. Walking slowly down the hall he stopped at the edge and listed. He could hear the woman talking to someone. He hadn't seen her since they'd brought him here. Only the guys would stand guard or bring him the food.

"He hasn't opened the door at all today, just like yesterday. He's been given lunch and didn't try anything when I took it in to him," said the man he'd started calling Chuck. They never told him their names, so he gave them one. Bob and Chuck. Those names just seemed to fit them.

"Good. Maybe he's beginning to grow accustomed to his new surroundings." There was a hesitation and Sam held his breath. "Well, we no longer have to worry about his father, that problem has been taken care of. I think we can move on to the next phase. We'll start tomorrow."

Sam's heart broke, his head dropped, and his eyes started watering. Slowly he just walked back down the hallway and returned quietly to his room.

---

In the living room area the woman removed her fingers from Chuck's lips and smiled. "Ok, he's back in his room now. Return to your place and I'll see you tomorrow."

Chuck nodded then, as he turned to leave, he looked back at her, "his father?"

She smiled and shook his head, "not yet, but I'm sure it'll happen soon enough."

---

He hadn't realized that he'd been lying on the bed so long, but as Bob came in with dinner he knew it had been hours. Sam didn't turn his head or acknowledge Bob in any way other than to open his eyes and stare at the ceiling. Bob placed the dinner dishes on the table and took the lunch dishes away.

Sam glanced over at the table to see what appeared to be filet mignon wrapped in bacon with a baked potato and asparagus. A can of Coca Cola sat next to the plate, as did a fork and steak knife. Sam huffed lightly; they really had no fear of him at all. He didn't feel hungry. Actually, he didn't fell anything at all. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He'd lost everyone he loved now. He started himself on a journey from the time Dean picked him up from Stamford to when they'd finished off the haunting before hearing about Sarah. He omitted the events surrounding Jessica and Sarah on purpose. He didn't think past the haunting because he didn't want to remember the events that led to Dean and Sarah's death. Each hunt, each joke, each smile, each laugh that he and Dean had shared went through his mind. Each smile and the kisses he'd shared with Sarah appeared too. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

Sam woke with a start as the door to his room opened. Bob came in with breakfast and swapped out the dishes again. He looked over the uneaten dinner but said nothing. Sam sat up as his stomach started grumbling. Pancakes, eggs, sausage, biscuits, and orange juice waited for him. The door closed behind Bob as Sam moved over to the table to eat. Once he'd finished breakfast he leaned back in the chair thinking over the dream he'd had last night. He'd slept unusually well and his dreams had been about when he was younger. His dad was hunting and he and Dean had the run of the motel room for several days. Wrestling, joking, laughing, watching TV, and thoroughly cleaning the guns. Ok, so it wasn't completely perfect, but it was close to normal. He tried to push the thoughts and images of his family out of his mind.

After a long while, he got up and opened the door to his room. No one was in the hallway. Cautiously he walked down to the corner and listened. Everything was quiet. He slowly turned the corner only to see Bob and the woman standing calmly in the main room of the house. "Good morning Sam," she cooed, "I hope you enjoyed breakfast." Sam took a deep breath but said nothing in reply. She looked him over for several minutes without saying anything more to him. Finally, after a very long and awkward silence, she smiled and said, "are you ready to begin Sam or do you need a few more days to come to terms with your new life?"

"New life?" Sam almost spat the words.

"Of course. Why do you think you are here? I told you before; we're your family now. As soon as you are ready, you will be introduced to the others. But for now, you get to be with us," she gestured at herself, Bob, and Chuck who was standing in the back of the room where Sam hadn't seen him before. "Once you have shown you are ready, you'll be taken to the rest of the family. Until then, I will be training and testing you."

"What kind of training and tests?" Sam was starting to get a little nervous.

Her smile was almost kind, "you'll see. Don't worry, we have lots of time and I'll take it slow." For some reason, that didn't make Sam feel any less nervous.

---

It had been almost two months since Sam had disappeared. Dean obediently followed his father on hunts or stayed back at the motel room watching the cell phone. He'd gone back to the sewers once the police had finally left. He went over every inch of every tunnel he came across. He found the blood in the room where they'd had Sam locked, but nothing more. He couldn't find any other traces of blood anywhere. He couldn't understand why Sam wouldn't contact him and he refused to believe that Sam was dead.

John said he was still looking for clues and all his contacts were keeping an eye out, but nothing had come up. He'd started hunting again, probably to vent his frustrations out on anything even remotely evil that he could get his hands on. He called Missouri at least once a week to see if she'd been able to pick anything up, but still no luck there. He was trying to get Dean to hunt with him but his eldest son was in a depression that he wasn't sure how to fix. Loss was part of their lives and the risks they took every hunt were understood. But this was different; Sam had disappeared so there was no way to know if he was dead or alive and that was worse than if they would have actually had to burry him. So he continued to hunt. Not only for evil creatures to kill but for clues about what might have happened to Sam.

For the first time in a long time, he sat at the table and told Dean to join him. "Dean, I know how you feel, but I need you to concentrate. I'm not going to just bark orders at you this time; I want you to work this case with me. Really work it, not just follow and shoot at anything that moves."

Dean frowned, "what's the case?"

---

John looked over at Dean sleeping on the motel bed. He'd done well over the past couple of weeks and seemed to be getting back into the swing of the hunt. They had killed lots of evil critters and done research on disappearances that might have been supernaturally caused. While he may not be completely over the loss of Sam, he was becoming more like himself and was once again determined to find something about his baby brother.

At least until his cell phone rang.

Dean was awake in an instant, grabbing the phone and checking the caller ID. "Hey Sarah."

"Dean," Sarah's voice was soft and full of tears; she was sobbing so hard Dean almost didn't understand what she was saying. Unfortunately, he did hear it and when she said, "found possible evidence of Sam among the remains" he dropped the phone on the floor.

John quickly got up and grabbed the phone, "Sarah, what is it?" John's face was pale but he listened intently to her as she sobbed the story out again. Acid, bone fragments, male and female, Sam's jacket, personal belongings of the missing women, and more were found in the sewers by a maintenance worker. John could barely make the words, "thank you for telling us Sarah," come out of his mouth. He closed the phone and walked back to the chair. John didn't even try to hold back the tears and he could see Dean's falling unchecked as well where he was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.