Thank you so much for your patience. I had to wait to upload this chapter because my mom took my phone from me. (She can be a butt head sometimes.) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

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He had never thought about how it must have felt to roam hell alone. He must have had to hide from everything down there. He wouldn't have had any weapons to use. He was stuck down there and Dean couldn't do a damn thing about it. And it still kills him to know that he didn't have a part in Sam's escape. Hell, maybe he was still furious about Sam's relationship with demons, but he would have to find a way to live with it. After all, they were there when he wasn't.

The rest of the day was spent in awkward silence, Dean dodging any conversations with Sam. It was pretty easy to accomplish since Sam was doing the same thing. After the revelation that Sam had demon friends, no one knew how to address it. Did they have a welcome home party for Sam, and invite any demon that had made Sam's acquaintance? Dean smiles bitterly at the thought. That would be some party. Dean curses when he drops the socket wrench he was using. Damn, he couldn't even focus on Baby right now.

Sliding out from under her, he walks towards the door leading to the kitchen. As he walks in he's not surprised to find Bobby at the fridge grabbing a beer. "Fix her up?" Bobby asks, twisting the top off the bottle. "Nothing to fix." Dean says simply. Sighing, he walks over to the fridge and grabs himself a beer. "Where's Sam?" Dean asks, looking around the kitchen and twisting the cap off his own bottle. "Went for a run. Said he'd be back in an hour." Bobby says, leaning against the counter.

"Probably hanging with his friends." Dean mumbles. Bobby raises his eyebrows. "Really boy, after everything he said about what happened you're still worried about that?" Bobby pushes off the counter and walks over to him. "Adam is still down there. You know what Sam told me?" Dean shakes his head, wincing at the mention of Adam. "He said it was his fault. That Adam is still trapped with the Devil and Michael." Bobby's in his face now. "So get that stick out of your ass. Not every demon is Ruby!" Bobby huffs a breath and walks into the study.

Dean shuffles his feet. The unspoken was just yelled into his face. He had known from the beginning of all this demon crap that he would be stuck reliving memories of Ruby. Even the thought of Ruby these days was rare. But with Sam's revelation about his having to make friends, Dean's mind had practically jumped straight to Ruby. He couldn't go through that again. He couldn't lose Sam to demons again.

Dean's legs almost buckle underneath him when the worst thought surfaces in his brain. Is Sam drinking demon blood again? He couldn't help the question that was reverberating through his brain. What would he do, lock him up in the panic room? He wasn't stupid. He saw the way Sam had avoided the panic room after the first detox. That haunted look he got whenever the panic room was mentioned. It broke Dean to have to shove him back in the panic room after their run in with Famine.

Dean sighs a heavy breath and takes a sip of his beer. Everything was overwhelming him and he hated it. He hated having to avoid Sam because he didn't want to talk. It actually relieved him that Sam didn't want to talk either. But sooner or later they would have to. All of them, including Sam's demon friends. He just hoped there weren't any more surprises.

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Tray grasps at his throat, it was helpless. There was no use in fighting the invisible force that was closing his airways. "Go… to… hell." He chokes out between meaningless gasps for air. The white eyed demon in front of him smiles. "Oh, Tray, always the one to mouth off. Did you learn that from Sam?" The demon lets Tray crumble to the floor. Tray coughs as his abused throat takes in more and more air.

Getting enough air back into his lungs he smiles with blood stained teeth, "He helped me perfect my language." Tray admits. If Sam were here Drekavac wouldn't be so eager to hurt him. Drekavac kneels down so they are eye level. "You're gonna send your precious Sam a message for me." Tray spits at him, "Send it to him yourself, you old fuck." Drekavac smiles despite the insult, "Tray, you definitely get your stubbornness from Sam."

Drekavac pulls out his own custom blade and cuts it across a flinching Tray. "But you see, I broke Sam with this blade after 30 years. How long do you think it will take for you to break?" Tray gulps and scoots backward until he hits the wall of the abandoned house. "What's the message?" Tray asks through clenched teeth.

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Sam is halfway back to Bobby's when he hears what sounds like a stampede of pounding steps behind him. He stops to turn around and gets barreled into by a black figure that he knows. He hits the ground hard enough to get the wind knocked out of him. "Imp? What the hell?" Sam says, grabbing his fur and pulling himself up. Sam stiffens as he realizes that something is wrong. Imp was connecting to his psyche. He wouldn't be able to talk, but he could share experiences through images.

Sam gasps as images flood his vision and a scene fades into view. Tray is there, drawing runes into the walls of what looks like an abandoned house. He turns around fast, like he hears something. Sam takes in a sharp breath, Drekavac is there, and he's about to kill Tray. The images are gone as fast as they came. Sam looks at Imp with fire in his eyes. "Take me." It's a command and Imp knows this because his whole body stiffens with the demand. He sits still as Sam grabs fistfulls of his fur and pulls himself up to a sitting position on his back.

Wind is blowing through Sam's hair before he even realizes that they are on the move. Shaking his head, he tries to clear the fog of red that clouded his vision when he saw what Drekavac was doing. If he wasn't careful all of the power that he was keeping in check would burst through the cracks and take everything in its path away. He couldn't let his anger overpower common sense. Drekavac was trying to break through the walls he had built a long time ago.

He would be damned if he let that happen now. In hell it was no big deal, all that happened was demon vaporization. Having all the power surge here would be a disaster. It would be devastating. He couldn't let it happen. What if Dean and Bobby were caught in the backlash? They would be disintegrated. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let Drekavac make him lose control, not again.

Imp skids to a stop outside of an old, rundown building. In its earlier days it would've passed as a house, but now it was just rotted timber and vines. Sam smirks as he realizes why Tray picked this place.

The hairs on his neck stand on end as hears scuffling inside the building. Edging towards the back door, Imp trails silently behind him. Sam tunes out the sounds around him, focusing on his friends ragged breathing. He couldn't just barge in, even if Tray was alone. Drekavac could've left traps for him. He couldn't risk getting caught. Expanding his senses he searched for any witchcraft or cursed objects. Drekavac knew that a devils trap wouldn't work on him, so he would've had to get creative.

After waiting a few more minutes and taking in his surroundings, Sam pushes the back door open and steps inside. There's nothing that screams that there was a struggle, but that's what Drekavac would want. He would want Sam to think that the danger was over. Imp wimpers behind him, "Be patient Imp. We have to be careful." Sam says quietly. Imp muzzles the back of his hand and pads to the other side of the room. Sam walks over to what looks like a hallway and stiffens at the puddle of blood, leaking through the bottom of a rundown door.

He whistles once to Imp, after a few paw steps the loyal hound is at his side. They both step over to the puddle of red as Imp sniffs. He whimpers to Sam's unspoken question. It was Tray's blood, or his vessel's anyway. Hopefully Drekavac didn't use his own hell casted blade. It would be a bitch to heal those kinds of wounds. Sam twists the handle of the door slowly and pushes it open. Sam's jaw clenches when he sees his friend hunched over in the middle of a devils trap. "Tray."

He edges closer to the devils trap and pulls out his hell's blade, scratching away the paint binding his friend. Stepping into the broken trap he shakes Tray's shoulder gently, not wanting to make any of the wounds worse. Tray's eyes shoot open and his hands clench around Sam's forearms. "Sam." His voice is panicked and raspy with the abuse it probably went through. "Come on, let's get you out of here." Sam says, beginning to pull Tray into a fireman's carry. "Wait, he had a m-message." Tray rasps, coughing on blood.

"Tell me later." Sam urges, wanting to get away from this place. "Sam, it's about Adam." Tray says, squeezing his arms tighter. Sam's surprised his teeth haven't chipped with how tight his jaw is. "What is it." It's not a question when Sam says it. Tray coughs up more blood on Sam's white t-shirt. "He said that he won't last much longer. That he'll get him… out if…" Tray doubles over in Sam's grip and coughs up more and more blood.

"Fuck it." Sam says, grabbing Tray and laying him on the back of Imp. Climbing on behind him he whistles and before he even blinks, wind is rushing through his hair and his eyes are watering. Tray has passed out and is getting blood all over Imp's black coat of fur. "Come on Imp, faster." Sam urges, reaching in his pocket and fishing for the extra amulet he kept. Wrapping his fingers around the leather string he pulls it out and slips it over Tray's head. "Hang on Tray." Sam mumbles as they skid to a stop outside of Bobby's.

Sam has no time to prepare himself for the, no doubt, outburst of anger and confusion he will get from Bobby and Dean when he comes in with a demon over his shoulder. He doesn't pay attention to the stares of shock and disappointment, because he can't find it in himself to care. His friend was hurting, because of him. He should've known that Drekavac would come eventually, targeting the people he could get to. That meant that Val wasn't safe either. Don't get him wrong, she could handle herself, but when it came to Drekavac all bets were off. He was a bad son of bitch.

After finally getting all the bleeding under control and having him stitched up, he storms outside without giving Bobby and Dean a chance to stop him.

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Bobby doesn't have the chance to let the caffeine settle in his system before Sam is bursting through the door with what looks like a teenager thrown over his shoulder. There's blood all over his white t-shirt and from the looks of the splatters, it's not his. Bobby shoots up from his chair and barrels to the kitchen, where Sam is setting down the kid. "Sam, what happened?" Bobby asks, urgency clear in his tone. Sam doesn't even look up from what he is doing.

Before Bobby even realizes that he should help, Sam is already stitching the kid up and placing bandages over the cuts. And they are some deep cuts. They looked like professional cuts, too. Not just some random attack on the street. Whoever did this had a purpose. Bobby walks over to help with bandages, but Sam is already out the door and pulling out his phone. "Well, that was…" He trails off as Dean steps off the stairs. "Who the hell is that?" Dean asks, walking into the kitchen. "I don't really know. Sam brought him in and then walked back outside."

Bobby didn't have a chance to stop Dean before he was stomping out the door, after his brother. "Dammit." Bobby curses, walking closer to the unknown teen sprawled out on the table. "Better clean this mess up then." Bobby says under his breath. Grabbing the bloody rags and left over thread he heads to the back door and to the burn pile.

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Until next time:)