Chapter 9 is up, folks! I hope you enjoy :) As always, thanks for your interest and feedback

Chapter 9

Tip the reaper to ensure

The blade is sharp,

As soon we'll go.

Follow me into the dark

To the birth of everything

Nightwish – Endlessness

Sam looked at the two doors. They were the same as before. The furthest one was clear. The other was blocked by a lot of stuff that would be difficult to move. But he wasn't twelve this time and he wasn't alone. He made for that door.

"Help me move these," he told Dean, who was watching him in confusion.

"Any reason why we're not taking the other door?" he asked.

Sam was pleased to notice that despite his confusion, Dean was by his side ready to help move the furniture.

"I left through there the first time," he said. "You can get out from there, true. But I'm thinking, this door is blocked for a reason. Maybe there's something here Loretta doesn't want us to find."

Dean nodded and they both set to work. The furniture was heavy, and they were exhausted. It was going more slowly than they would have liked.

"We're not at the hotel, by the way," Sam informed Dean. "I remember this place being in the forest. It's got to be the summer house."

Dean frowned as he pushed aside the last of the furniture. He had to lean against the wall to steady himself.

"There's a summer house?"

"There was," Sam said. "Or, at least, that's what it was supposed to be. One of Loretta's ancestors thought it would be a good addition to the hotel. Build this sort of lodge in the woods for guests who wanted the full nature experience. It didn't take."

"I wonder why," Dean muttered sarcastically. "And now Loretta's using it as her personal kitchen?"

Sam nodded tersely.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you last night, before we were taken. Dean, she didn't stop."

Dean tilted his head. Sometimes, Sam had this habit of having an entire conversation in his head and allowing Dean to hear only the tail end of it.

"What do you mean? I noticed she hasn't stopped, Sam. She picked up the nasty habit of kidnapping children after a rest period of over twenty years."

Sam shook his head quickly.

"That's just it, Dean. There wasn't a rest period. I managed to hack my way through some pretty confidential information, but Loretta's part of this volunteer group that help victims of domestic violence and runaway kids. They come to her, she shelters them for a while at the hotel, then sends them on to the next stop. Or, she sends some of them on." He paused and swallowed harshly. "Some of them she keeps. I'm guessing traumatized victims, that's got to keep her fed, right?"

Dean's face had taken on a look of utter distaste.

"I'm gonna take great pleasure shooting the bitch."

"You know she's essentially human, right?" Sam reminded. "I mean, yes, she can become the Pied Piper but…she's pretty much human otherwise."

Dean scowled and Sam knew he had said the wrong thing.

"Sam, she's preying on vulnerable kids. We'll destroy the pipe, but if we also have to take her out – we'll take her out."

Sam watched the tightness in Dean's face and knew there were some things his brother could not overlook. He nodded.

"Fine," he said. "I get you. Now let's get out of here."

They opened the door and nearly toppled down the steep flight of stairs leading from the room. There was only a thin rope serving as a banister. The stairs looked rickety and unsteady.

"Yeah, I'm really surprised tourists did not flock to stay at this place," Dean remarked. "I mean, who wouldn't want to be in danger of falling to their deaths every time they leave their rooms?"

Sam snorted.

"Some people enjoy the idea of a little danger. It makes them feel brave."

Dean's scowled intensified.

"Then they should come hunt with us. Let's see how they like danger then. What do you think's down there?"

Sam shrugged.

"Hopefully a way out. And something that will tell us more about Loretta. About how she became the Pied Piper."

Dean nodded. Looking down at the steep flight of stairs made his head swim.

"All right," he said. "Let's do this. You stay behind me." He paused and added quickly, afraid Sam might protest his mother hen routine. "Watch my back, right?"

xxxXXXXXXxxxxx

They moved down the stairs quietly. So far, there was no sign of Loretta. She was probably back at the hotel, though. It must have been late morning by now.

The stairs led them to a large room. The windows were covered by dark curtains. Sam drew them back, blinking in the sudden light. His eyes widened as he realized where exactly they were.

The room was like the perfect sanctuary for a witch. There were arcane signs on the walls and on the floor. By the door there was a painting hanging of the Pied Piper, perhaps the original one, leading away a couple of children. There were dusty old books on one of the tables. Sam picked one up and frowned.

"Wow," Dean whistled taking in the symbols, the half-burnt incense, the strange rectangular boxes arranged in a circle around the room. "I think we've found Loretta's naughty place." He stopped and glanced at Sam. "What's in there?"

Sam flicked through the book, frowning.

"It's a spell-book of some sort written in some Germanic language. Probably Gothic, would be my guess."

"So, what's it say?" Dean asked.

The corners of Sam's mouth tilted upwards. Sometimes, he had to wonder what his brother thought of him. Times like these, however, he was warmed by how much faith Dean had in him. It felt at times as if Dean thought he could perform miracles.

"I'm flattered that you think I can read it, but no. I can maybe recognize a word or two. Something about death and bound to spirits…whatever that means."

"Nothing good, I'll bet," Dean commented.

Sam turned a few more pages.

"There are some drawings of rats here, as well. I'm guessing this belonged to the original Pied Piper."

"Well, take it with you," Dean told him. "Bobby might be able to make out more of it. Maybe he's got a contact who can translate it."

Sam pocketed the book. He noticed the frown on Dean's face.

"You've got something," he discovered.

Dean shrugged. He was sometimes reluctant to share his theories, allowing the research spotlight to fall onto Sam. But Sam knew Dean had a unique way of spotting connections that had gotten them out of tight spots more times than he could count.

"More of a puzzle for you, really," Dean said. "When I got loose, did you notice the rats in that room Loretta took us?"

"They were all dead," Sam said. "They were dead when I was captured the first time, too… when I woke up and got free. All the rats were dead."

Dean nodded quickly.

"Yeah, but they were all alive and well when Loretta took us. They were alive when she took Jim Hayes as well…"

Sam's eyes widened.

"When I was trying to escape the first time, they were back again. Loretta was trying to get me to return and the rats…they were everywhere."

Sam looked around the room. There were no rats there now, which probably meant Loretta wasn't close.

"So," he summed up. "The rats die after she feeds. How? Why?"

"Maybe she's not feeding only to deal with her grudge," Dean said. "Maybe that's just part of the price. What if one becomes a Pied Piper by making some kind of deal? Binding themselves to some force."

"It's not the first time we've seen this," Sam agreed.

"Or," Dean added, "What if the deal was that she had to become the Pied Piper? I mean, I'm sure no one enjoys living surrounded by rats twenty-four seven and having to replenish your energy be feeding off kids' nightmares."

"Why did she do it, then?" Sam asked.

"She told me she got jilted once," Dean said. "How much do you want to bet that guy's a doornail right now?"

Dean stopped, his eyes widening. Then, his face wrinkled in distaste.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Loretta said something else, while you were out. She was trying to get me to empathize with her or whatever. And she said that while she had to take on the family business, her sister got to move to New York and live the life she wanted – family, kids, the lot."

"Didn't she hint that her sister was dead the first time she saw us?"

"Right, but her sister was younger than her, otherwise she would have been the one inheriting the business, not Loretta. How much do you want to bet her death was not natural causes?"

Loretta had made a deal that turned her into the Pied Piper, in exchange for revenge on the man who had betrayed her – and on her family. The last bit was enough to put her on Dean's kill list forever. Dean always believed there was a special place in Hell for people who betrayed their families. Sam understood why. Dean was the self-appointed protector of his own little family. The idea that someone might willingly harm theirs was something that he could not fathom.

Sam cleared his throat and turned his attention to the crates. There were a lot of them, most of them shut, although he did notice a few were not. He got closer and read a name. When he pushed the crate open, he nearly gasp at what he found there.

"Dean!" he called frantically, his stomach twisting at the sight.

There were bones there, human bones, too small to belong to an adult. Sam remembered then where he had seen the name before.

"It's one of the first victims," he said. "Dean, she's keeping the bodies here."

He glanced at the other crates. There was one with Kelsey Blackstone's name on it. It was empty.

"There's one for each of her victims," Sam discovered.

He took several pictures, planning to check out the names later. He would be making anonymous calls to the children's families. Maybe there were people still looking for them.

He realized suddenly that Dean was being unusually quiet. He glanced at his brother to find him standing in front of one of the crates.

"Dean?" Sam asked uncertainly.

Dean acted as if he had not heard him. That sent Sam's alarm bells ringing. He approached his brother and glanced at the crate. It was open and there were no bones inside, and for a moment Sam could not understand what had Dean so freaked out. Then, he noticed the name on the crate: Sam.

Distantly, Sam knew it should have bothered him. The idea that he had come so close to dying, that the Pied Piper had gone so far as to prepare a coffin for him. But death had come and gone for him more than once, and Hell had come and gone, too, although he could not remember it. One more near death experience that he had barely even remembered until today was not going to affect him that much.

It was different with Dean, though and Sam could see it in his brother's stricken face. The idea that he was looking at what was supposed to be twelve-year-old Sam's final resting place was probably hitting Dean much harder than Sam, bringing forth all the panic and guilt.

Tentatively, Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, half-expecting his brother to reject the comfort.

"Dean…" he began gently.

Sam did not know whether to feel relieved or worried that Dean did not push him away. Perhaps Dean needed a tactile reminder that Sam was alive, that no matter how many times he had lost his brother, Sam had always managed to return. And Sam would always try to return – if it was the last thing he did.

Dean seemed to come back to the present. He glanced at Sam and nodded. Something hardened in his face.

"Let's get the hell out of here," he said.

Sam could not agree more.

xxxXXXxxxx

They found their way out of the house and were now standing in the forest. It was cloudy outside and slightly cold. It had to be early noon by now.

"So, what now?" Sam asked. "I mean, we can't exactly waltz back into the hotel."

"We won't waltz in," Dean said. "We'll try to get in through the back. Create a diversion or something. And hope no one catches sight of us."

They would be really lucky if that happened. But they needed to get back to the car. It was better if they were armed when they confronted Loretta.

"I just hope she didn't try anything with my baby," Dean said. "Good thing I parked her in the back this time."

Loretta would probably keep the car there a few more days, planning to drive it away and either hide it or stage an accident. Hiding it was her best bet, though. After all, people passed through Rattigan all the time and never stayed long. No one there would be surprised when they failed to see Sam and Dean again.

The two kept walking until they reached the tree where they had found Jim Hayes. Sam suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

"Dean, that tree," he said. "I knew it looked familiar."

Dean nodded impatiently.

"Yeah, Sam, we've already established you were here before."

Sam shook his head. He made for the tree and bent down. There was a hollow there, big enough for a child to fit inside. Sam reached out and touch the damp leaves. The smell of grass and dirt made him gag.

"I hid here that night," he went on. "After I escaped, this is where I hid."

"This is where Jim Hayes hid too," Dean pointed out. "It's a good hiding place for a kid."

Sam refused to move away from there. This was important. He could feel it. There was something he was missing. Something he had not remembered yet.

"I hid here for a very long time," he said. "And it was cold…I think I fell asleep at some point., and when I woke up it was so very cold…I was freezing."

Dean's hand on his shoulder shook him from his memories.

"OK, Sam, enough," he said firmly. "You've remembered enough. You don't need to poke anymore. It doesn't matter."

"No, Dean, I think it does. I think I might remember something that will help us deal with Loretta."

He could feel Dean was not convinced, and he knew his brother was waiting to start arguing again.

"Trust me," Sam pleaded, and he knew that was a low blow after everything they had gone through. "You do, don't you?"

Dean's jaw clenched.

"I trust you in most things," he admitted. "Your instinct of self-preservation is not one of them, though. But I'll bite, this time. What happened here?"

Sam bent down to have a better look at the hollow. He was secretly glad Dean was sticking close. While he knew he needed to remember this last piece of the puzzle, he did not think he would have been able to face it on his own.

xxxXXXXxxxxx

Sam woke up shivering. The hiding place he had found did not offer him much protection from the elements. He blinked up, dazed, and noticed it was late evening. He was sure it was still night when he had escaped his captor. He must have lost some time, then, but he did not know how much.

His thoughts were muddled. He knew he had to get out of there and find his Dad, but, at the same time, he was afraid of what would happen when he did. There was something he needed to tell Dad, about the thing that had taken him, which was definitely not a boogeyman. And something about Sam himself. He did not really remember what, though. His brain felt like it was working too slow.

Sam crawled out of the hollow, shivering so hard he could barely stand. His limbs felt like led, but his forehead was burning. Something caught in his throat and he started coughing. Nothing about his condition was good. He needed to get to safety and fast.

A rustling of leaves somewhere behind him had Sam ducking back into his hiding place. He waited with breath held hoping it was not some wild animal that had caught his scent. But it wasn't. It was the thing that had taken him, moving purposefully through the forest. It did not seem to have noticed Sam.

Sam hesitated. He could try to find the way out of the forest on his own – but he did not think he would be too successful. Or, he could follow the thing. His Dad always said to take every opportunity you had to gather information. Sam could do that. His Dad was probably already furious that Sam had left the room. The best thing Sam could do right now was not return empty-handed. Information about the thing they hunted would mollify John, if only a little.

The figure seemed to move deeper into the forest. Sam tried his best to keep up and stay quiet. By the time they reached a clearing, Sam was panting and shivering, dizzy with exertion. He hid under some bushes and watched as the figure moved towards a stone slab, an improvised altar, Sam thought. The creature set the pipe on top of the altar and stood there, waiting.

The wind picked up and Sam watched horrified as a foggy shadow seemed to morph in front of the altar. It took on a shape similar to the thing that had taken Sam. It had the same strange cloak and the same unreal quality. Only, this one was much bigger and, Sam sensed, much older. There was something incredibly evil there in the clearing. Sam thought of running, but it was too late. If he made a move now, they would hear him.

The newcomer picked up the pipe from the altar. He looked at it, then shook his head and handed it back to Sam's kidnapper, who drew a step back.

"What?" it said and the voice was a woman's voice, one that Sam found vaguely familiar although he could not quite place it. "But, you promised…I held my end of the bargain. Now you hold yours!"

The figure still held the pipe. Rats were creeping out of unseen hollows, surrounding the woman. She hesitated, then took back the pipe.

"Fine," she said. "You're right. I let one escape. I'll keep working on it, shall I?"

The thing in front of the altar disappeared. Sam remained there, dazed, as he watched the woman move away, surrounded by rats. Before he could gather his thoughts, she too had gone.

It took Sam a while to start moving again. He did not know where he was going, only had a vague recollection of where the edge of the forest should be, but his sense of direction was out of whack along with everything else. By then, he was staggering and coughing every few feet and wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest somewhere. He did not really know why he was on his feet anymore. There was only the vague notion that Dean would not have given up so easily, had he been in Sam's place.

He did not know how long he kept it up. He stopped several times and maybe passed out once. It was still dark outside, but he had no idea if it was the same night or another one.

Suddenly, something yanked him roughly by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Sam struggled, kicking and biting at whoever was trying to hold him immobile. That sent him into another fit of coughing. He heard a muffled curse from whoever was holding him and he was grabbed by both shoulders. When Sam's head was clear enough, he could recognize Greenberg.

"You have no idea the trouble you put me through, kid," he growled. "Thank God that father of yours put the boogeyman down before it could get you."

Sam shook his head quickly. He did not understand half of what Greenberg was saying, but he knew what had taken him had been no boogeyman.

"It's something else," he said. "She…there's a house…and an altar. She's got rats following her…"

Greenberg eyed him in distaste.

"Just my luck. You're so delirious you don't even know what planet you're on anymore. Best get you to the doc. Maybe he can patch you up before Winchester sees you."

"No, listen…" Sam tried to say.

Greenberg would not let him speak, grabbing his arm and dragging him along at a speed that made Sam breathless. The fog of confusion was threatening to take hold of Sam again. He was cold and in pain and the only thing he wanted he could not get.

"You're not Dean," he told Greenberg accusingly. "Where's Dean?"

At any other time, Sam would have hated himself for acting like a five-year-old. Now, he was simply too wrung out to pretend he didn't need his brother.

"Don't know, don't care," Greenberg snapped. "If I was Dean, though, I'd sure as hell be tired of your whining. Now pick up the pace, kid.

Don't worry, I fully intend to have Dean show Greenberg exactly what happens to people who mistreat his Sammy ;)

Gothic is one of the best known old Germanic languages (lots of written records in Gothic, including a translation of the Bible). I figured it was well-known enough for a nerd like Sam to recognize, although obviously not understand. And I'll be showing I'm a bigger geek than Sam when it comes to languages in the next chapter as well ;)

Till next time. Stay safe out there!