Waiting for Jim was nearly impossible for Dean as his mind chose that time to bombard him with images of what could be happening to his guardian. Feeling as though his legs would soon give out from underneath him, he strode across the waiting area to sit in the hard seat that was available. The ripped blue vinyl covering dug into his skin, but he ignored it. Sam sat next to him, his body trembling even though his face was steeled against showing any emotion. Offering Sam his best approximation of a smile, Dean shielded his brother as best he could from the prying gaze of the park ranger.

The last thing they needed was the cops digging into their family again. Offering Sam his (literal) shoulder to cry on, Dean tossed his sweatshirt over Sam and hoped that would be enough to muffle his cries. Glancing at the space they were in, he figured they would be safe from whatever snatched Caleb. If it was something like a Wendigo, they would usually choose prey who were out in the open. Or secluded in a cabin or tent. If it was another manner of vicious beast, they could be facing anything.

It was the 'whatever' portion of his thoughts that made him sick. Bowing his head over his knees, he tried not to think about the thickness and the size of the claws that grabbed Caleb. If his confidante was not dead from being dragged through the woods, he might very well be from the severity of that kind of injury. Not willing to let his mind take him there, Dean grabbed the first thing he saw and began to leaf through it. It was a car book that displayed several images of vintage cars. In any other situation, he would have appreciated those kinds of images. However, all he could think of was what Caleb was going through, and how he longed to be out there.

Not able to sit still any longer, he pushed off from the chair and paced the small length of the waiting room. Casting a glance outside from the dirty window, his eyes saw nothing but open forest around them. The thing could have dragged Caleb anywhere by then. Looking back at his brother, he noted how hard Sam was struggling to hold his composure together. It was one thing to be prepared for a situation like the one they were in, it was another to live it. Wishing with all he had that Jim would get there, his mind was formulating a plan of attack. If they could track the creature, they would find Caleb. If the creature was stealthy, they would still be able to find him if they followed the few signs on the ground.

The park ranger was still sitting behind his desk, still chomping on his wad of gum. When he looked over at Sam, Dean made a beeline back to his brother. Whether this man was safe or not was of no concern to him, but he definitely did not want any stranger looking at his little brother. Sam seemed oblivious to Dean's concern, and burrowed his head deep in his brother's shoulder. Outside, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. Within an hour or two, it would be too dark to safely conduct a search and rescue operation. Not letting those thoughts take precedent in his mind was hard, but pushing them out was better than allowing them to take root.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, clutching Dean's shirt. "What if...what if a Wendigo has him? Or a Skin-"

"Shhh," Dean whispered, putting a finger to his lips, and directing Sam's gaze to the ranger. "I don't want him to hear us."

Sam nodded seriously. "Sorry. But what if it's true?"

Dean had thought of exactly what Sam was suggesting to him, and it gave him a semblance of hope. That kind of monster preferred to store its victims in dark spots, such as caves. He would kill them, but only after it had kept them for a few days first. With a Skinwalker, the odds were much more grim than Dean liked to think about.

"The Wendigo will keep him alive. For now, at least."

He did not want to consider any alternative to that statement. Sam, however, he knew would have more questions than he was ready to give.

"What...what about a Skinwalker?"

"They...they do things differently."

He did not wish to inform his brother that Skinwalkers were much like werewolves in their approach to killing their victims, or turning them into one of them. Wishing to keep Sam's mind as pure from that as he could, he thought of anything he could use to change the subject.

"Where's Jim?" Sam was shivering, and he was not entirely sure if it was from the cold breeze or from how he was feeling on the inside.

"I don't know. He's on the way."

"I wish he would get here. We need to find Caleb before-"

"I know."

"Are you boys okay?" the ranger asked, "is someone coming for you?"

The man had suddenly decided to take a deeper interest in the two boys sitting in his waiting room.

"Yes," Dean replied with a moan, as he rubbed his forehead, trying to get rid of the searing headache he had.

"Okay. Do you want anything to drink? Some water?"

"No," Dean said, flashing his water bottle. "We got one."

"Okay."

Glancing up at the teddy bear themed clock hanging behind the counter, he saw that it was nearing five in the afternoon. The sun would be setting in a few hours, and Caleb would be out there. Either he was still with the creature and the creature was hurting him, or he had managed to get away and was lying somewhere injured.

Either way, the fact that Caleb hadn't found them yet, was deeply troubling for Dean, who was always used to them finding each other right away when they got separated. This was all new territory for him, who was always used to getting out of close calls relatively unscathed. Having Caleb missing and probably hurt, was terrifying for Dean. They had never talked about what would happen if they got separated from each other, with both of them assuming that it would never happen.

Now it had.

And Dean had reacted on instinct: get himself and Sam out of the area, and to safety, and that was what he had done by going into the ranger station and calling Jim. Even though it had torn him in two to make the decision to leave Caleb when any number of things could be happening to him, it was the right call, and the one that Caleb would have told him to take if he had been there.

Now, though, Dean was second guessing himself as more and more time passed without any indication of what had happened, or where he was.

When the front doors opened again, and Jim walked in, Dean released the breath he had been holding in as Sam catapulted himself into Jim's waiting arms. Hanging back, Dean tried to soothe himself with the reality that someone had come to take over the rescue mission.

"Finally," Dean breathed.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Jim apologized, as he gave a trembling Sam a hug. "I had to fight some traffic on the way here."

"It's fine," Dean shrugged, as he brushed some of his stray tears away from his face. "I'm just glad you're here now."

It had been getting too heavy dealing with Sam's questions, and the prying looks from the ranger by himself.

"Are you with them?" the ranger prompted, as he came out from behind the desk to meet with Jim.

"Yes."

"I'm Ranger Jefferson," he introduced himself, as he shook Jim's hand. "You know, kids really shouldn't be hiking alone out in these woods."

Dean shook his head in annoyance, as though his family would ever let him or his brother hike by themselves at the ages they were at.

"They weren't," Jim said, adopting the kind of tone in his voice that let Dean knew he wasn't too crazy about this guy's assumptions, either. "They were with their other guardian."

"What happened to him?" the ranger asked, turning his attention back to Dean.

"Something grabbed him," Dean said. "I don't know what."

"You didn't see anything?" the ranger pressed.

"Just something grab him." He wasn't about to let his let true emotions push forth, and if he kept talking that was what was going to happen. For the first time, the ranger looked truly afraid as he faced the small family in front of him.

"What is it?" Jim pressed, seeing the man's worried expression.

"It's just-"

"It's just what?" Dean demanded, not in the mood for games.

"Over the last few weeks," the ranger explained, as he leaned across the counter, "we've had hikers, small family's, disappear from the area. A few days later, we found them. But they were all torn into pieces. In fact, we've tried to get this stretch of woods closed off to tourists for weeks, but we haven't gotten the right permits yet."

That was the one statement that undid all of Dean's hard-fought composure.

"Excuse me," Dean gasped, as he roughly shoved past the ranger and made a mad dash to the bathroom where he ran into the nearest stall, and promptly threw up.

That had been the last thing he needed to hear right at that very moment, that hikers that disappeared in that area, turned up days later ripped to pieces.

As he tried to control his stomach, violent sobs ripped through his body as he looked down at his shaking hands as they grasped the toilet. Dry-heaving into the toilet, he grabbed some toilet paper to wipe his face with. Even though brutal thoughts of what Caleb might be going through, had entered his head more than once since their ordeal had begun, he had never seriously entertained the thought of what might be happening to him, and what condition he would be in when they found him.

The ranger had brought all of that to the forefront of Dean's mind with his careless descriptions of how the other victims had been found.

"Dean?"

It was Jim, no doubt coming to see where he had disappeared to in such a hurry.

"Y-yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," Dean replied.

"Can you come out?"

Not sure he trusted himself to stand just yet, he gave it a try as he shakily stood and unlocked the bolt on the stall door, and brushed past Jim to go over to the sinks.

As he bowed his head to wash his hands, he used some more paper towel to wipe the last of the throw up off his face.

"Dean? Are you okay?"

In how many ways could he answer no? If it wasn't Caleb in jail, it was him being attacked and carried off by some mysterious creature. When would the hits stop coming?

"No," Dean said.

He desperately didn't want to have a heart-to-heart conversation with him, but he knew he probably wouldn't be able to get around it this time, especially with how urgent their situation was, and what Dean and Sam had seen out there.

"We're going to find him, Dean," Jim said. "I promise."

"When?" Dean said, as more tears fell down his face. "Before or after that thing rips him to pieces?"

"Dean-"

"You heard that douche," Dean retorted miserably. "People disappear, they come back in pieces."

"But," Jim reminded him, as he turned Dean around to face him. "They don't know what we know, okay? They aren't good fighters like Caleb is."

"I have these images in my head," Dean said gritting his teeth against the tears. "And I can't shut them up. I have images of that thing doing horrible things to him, and I can't stop it from happening."

"Dean, we're going to find him."

"When? It's getting dark out now, and the longer he's out there, the more chance that monster has of killing him."

Jim shook his head, trying to find another way of getting through to the fractured twelve-year-old. "Right now, we're going to go home-"

"No," Dean refused, shaking his head. "I'm not leaving until we find him."

"Dean," Jim pushed gently, "there's nothing we can do until the morning. And in the meantime, the ranger is going to put together a search party for him."

"What are they going to be able to do?" Dean asked incredulously. "Nothing. Not if it's something supernatural."

Jim knew how Dean felt, knew how frustrating and helpless he felt, but he also knew that there was nothing they could do with night fast approaching, and the limited amount of light they would have as a result.

"Would it make you feel better," Jim suggested, "if I take you and Sam home and I come back here for a little while to oversee the search?"

Dean knew he had no choice, knew that if Jim really decided to push it, he would have no choice but to go along with what he wanted, but he just couldn't see leaving Caleb out there all night long.

"I guess," he finally relented.

"Sammy needs some rest," Jim said. "You can make sure he's okay, and I'll come back out for another hour or so until the team gives up for the night."

"Do they have guys out there right now?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "If I drop you guys off at home, I can grab some weapons from our stash, and come back out for a little while."

Dean nodded. "Okay, yeah."

It was the best of both worlds. If he went home and took care of Sam for an hour or two, it would give Jim the chance to grab some of their weapons, and head back out to look along with the other searchers.

In spite of himself, Dean was relieved to be back in the comfort and safety of his home. At home, he felt a measure of control in the situation, as he followed Jim around and watched as he packed the things he would need to go out in the woods at night.

"Be careful," Dean said, as he watched him carefully. "If anything happens to you, too..."

He wouldn't be able to handle it. He and Sam would be well and truly alone, then. Bobby lived hours away in Sioux Falls, and the only help they had was a batty old neighbor who had a fondness for rifles.

"Nothing will," Jim assured him, as he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "And the same goes for you, too. Be careful here."

"We will be," Dean reassured him. "Just don't get yourself ripped to pieces, please," he said faintly.

"I won't," Jim said, as he hitched the bag of supplies over his shoulder. "Salt the windows and doors, alright?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "I will."

There was no way he would risk something _else _coming and finding them.

"Alright. I'll be back."

"Okay."

Giving Dean another hug, and leaning down to give Sam a kiss, the two brothers watched as Jim gave them one last look, before heading out the door and back out to try to bring Caleb back to them.

"When will he be back?" Sam pressed, a few minutes later.

"In about an hour," Dean replied, as he meticulously laid down a protective line of salt over the doors and windows in the bottom level of their house.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked curiously, as he watched his brother move around the room with the bag of salt in his hand.

"Salting the doors and windows," Dean explained, as he began to head upstairs.

"Why?" Sam asked, as he watched his brother head into his room first.

"Salt repels most spirits."

"What about demons?"

Dean kicked aside a rug that had been in Sam's room since he was a baby. "Devil's Trap. It traps the demons, they cant' get out. There's one in both of our rooms, and some in every room of the house."

"Awesome!"

"Yeah, I know. So we're pretty well covered in that area."

At least there was one thing he didn't have to worry about.

"Now what?" Sam asked, after Dean had finished salting everything.

"Now we just go back downstairs, I guess. Unless you want to go to bed or something."

"No."

"Alright. Just make sure you don't touch the salt, okay?"

"I promise."

"Scout's Honor?"

Sam nodded solemnly. "Scout's Honor."

It had happened so fast. One second Caleb had been running toward the safety of the car with the boys, and the next second, the creature, whatever it was, had reached out and snatched him with its talon-like claws. Now he had a dislocated shoulder to go along with the deep bruises and gashes that he had sustained while the creature had been dragging him. Eventually, the pain had won and he had mercifully lost consciousness.

Now, he was fully aware.

From what he could tell, the monster had placed him in some cave in the forest. He couldn't make out anything except for the drip drip drip sounds of water dripping somewhere, and a low moan from somewhere next to him. Looking around in the pitch darkness, he could dimly make out another figure tied beside him.

"Hey," he said, wincing in pain when a sudden movement he made, jarred his already excruciatingly painful shoulder. "Is someone there?"

"Yes," a woman's voice said.

From his estimation, she sounded about twenty or twenty-one.

"Are you okay?"

"That depends. Are you?"

"Hell no. That son of a bitch did something to my shoulder."

And his hands had been tied above his head, only further enhancing the injury to his shoulder due to the pressure it was being put under.

"Oh, fantastic," the girl groaned.

"This may not," Caleb said with a low moan, "make you feel any better, but I'm actually someone who could help you."

The girl gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh, great. Well, fantastic rescue operation."

"Well, I didn't even know this thing existed until it grabbed me."

A clatter from the other side of the cave, instantly halted their conversation as he twisted his body around as much as he could to get a good look at whatever was coming their way.

"It's coming!" she yelled, completely losing all reason as she squirmed and fought the ropes that were binding her in much the same way they were binding Caleb.

"Be quiet!" Caleb hissed, his heart pulsating painfully as he tried to get a look at the shadow on the wall that only illuminated the creature in its worst form.

It was over eleven feet fall; all power and claws as it growled something unintelligible to the humans inside the cave.

"Leave me alone," the girl pleaded. "Please!"

However, the monster ignored her.

"Take me!" Caleb yelled. "Take me, you son of a bitch. I'm a hell of a lot meatier!"

The monster was intent on its meal, and took her. Caleb tried to ignore the sickening, stomach-turning sounds of the woman's screams, as the monster killed her. To do what with her, he didn't know, but he was sure he didn't want to know either. His only thought was for the boys.

Had they gotten to safety?

Had Dean gotten them somewhere safe and gotten in touch with Jim?

He had to believe they had. It was his only source of mental relief, knowing that the boys would be far from this nightmare.

AN:

The next story in this verse is already written. Apart from some minor edits and such. It will be a very hard story, as well as the next two after that.