No Beta so all spelling/grammar mistakes are my own.*

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*Disclaimer – I don't own Supernatural. ):I only write about them and hope one day to move to Texas so I can somewhat stalk them. *

I finished this with a migraine. let me know if something doesn't make sense, I will fix it! Thanks!

ENJOY!

The hunters showed up at the motel room Dean and Bobby were held up in, showing up one by one over the course of a week and a half. The ten trusted hunters were all finally together and trying to figure out a solid plan of action. Trying to get everyone on the same page wasn't an easy task, everyone had different ideas, and were all stubborn as Bulls.

"Let's just blow up the whole damn white House!" One hunter screamed.

"We have to think this threw or innocents will die!" Screamed a second.

"Why are we even helping his brother? Didn't he open the gates of hell?!" Screamed a third hunter.

By the third comment Dean has had enough. While the other eight hunters including Bobby were actually looking at the White House Blue prints and taking inventory on what ammunition they would need, Dean had gone off the deep end. He quickly got up from his chair, grabbed the third hunter by the throat, and pinned him against the wall. With murder in his eyes he spoke.

"None of that was Sam's fault and you know it! If you're not going to help then you can just leave! But if you stay with us and get my brother killed in the process, you'd have wished you were in hell!"

The other hunters in the room all froze. The hunter being held against the wall was taller and broader than Dean, but Dean seemed to be a man possessed. He didn't release his hold until Bobby fought his way to Dean's side and put his hand on Deans arm.

"Dean that's enough! Let him go!"

"You heard what he said Bobby…"

"I also know you're working on no sleep, NOW LET HIM GO!"

Dean reluctantly let go of the hunter, turned, and stormed out the motel room door.

Bobby looked down at the hunter as he was on his back with his hand to his throat trying to catch his breath.

"You know better than to talk about Sam like that. You're either with us or against us, and right now if you're against us, Dean'll kill ya. So chose your words very carefully next time. Freaking idjet."

Bobby looked up at the other wide eyed hunters.

"That goes for all of you! Roman is a threat to us all and needs to be stopped, but Sam is still my number one concern, everyone got that?!"

The rest of the hunters all nodded their heads in silence. Bobby headed towards the door, but stopped and turned to address the hunters once more.

"Look for a way in and out, and how to kill the damn things. Dean and I will worry about Sam."

With that Bobby left to go after Dean.

Dean didn't get very far. He was only down the street sitting on a bench. His hands were in a ball and his head was resting on them. He would periodically blow into his hands to keep them warm. He looked up as he heard Bobby approach him.

"You think this is going to work?"

Bobby sighed before answering. "I don't know son, but what I do know is we can't lose our cool. We need all the help we can get, and those hunters back there? That's it."

"Yeah I know. God I just, I just wish we were never in this mess."

"I know. All we can do right now, is get our shit together, kill Dick and save Sam. We will get this done."

Dean sighed. He had to believe Bobby's words of encouragement or else this wouldn't work. Ever since Sam has gone missing he has been doubting himself as the hero he was supposed to be, and as a brother.

"Alright yeah, let's get back in there, but I swear to god anyone of them smart off too me and their getting a bullet in the ass."

Dean got up from the bench and walks past Bobby into the motel room.

"Damn idjets."

With that sentiment, Bobby followed Dean into the motel room to help plan their grand scheme. They knew they had to act quickly if they wanted to get to Sam before November 8th, but they were more than preparing to invade the White House, since that's where it seemed they were heading too.

~*SPN*~

Sam sat in his dark room in his white t-shirt and sleep pants. When he was captured he was in jeans a t-shirt andhis flannel. Since then they gave him a suit to wear for his special t.v appearances and a sleep wear set. He was never allowed anywhere else, and needed no other set of clothing. All he had to sleep on was a mattress on the ground, a thin pillow and a blanket. It barely kept the cold off of him while he slept, but it was better than nothing. The thing that really bothered him was the damn shackle around his ankle. It was thick and attached to a thick metal ring that was bolted in the center of the room. He was able to navigate around the room, and to a cheap toilet, but he wasn't able to reach the door at the far end of the room, or the little window high up from the ground. As if he could fit threw that anyway.

He was sitting on his cot when he heard the locks from the metal door unlatching. Always on guard he stood up and straightened his back. So far they weren't a threat to kill him, but he wasn't taking any chances, and he wasn't going down without a fight.

Normally a lower ranking Leviathan would come in with food, recently washed clothes, or even escort him to another part of the tiny building he was in to take a shower and shave so he could look presentable on t.v. This time? It was Dick Roman himself. He's never actually come to visit Sam himself, but this time he was right in front of him, wearing a tailored suit and a smug grin.

"What the hell do you want?" Sam was seething threw his teeth and the man responsible for his hell hole.

"You know what today is?"

"Kiss my ass day?"

Dick laughed at Sam's comeback.

"Now that's no way to talk to the President of the United States."

Sam shuttered, President? Oh god how longhas he been here for exactly? No way can it be…

As if reading Sam's mind, Dick continued. "It's November 8th, and the results are in." The smug grin came over Dick's face, and Sam found himself taking a couple steps backwards while his own cocky 'Dean' attitude started to vanish and was slowly being replaced by dread and fear. Just as Sam was backing up he tripped over his chain and fell backwards, landing hard on his ass. Dick started forward, and didn't stop until he was right over a fallen Sam, whose eyes were like saucers.

"That's right kiddo, we're moving to a bigger house. A white one to be exact. And you're going to be my prisoner forever."

Sam gulped and couldn't help but show fear. If Dean was having a difficult time rescuing him from a normal out of nowhere place he was currently in, how was he going to help him in the White House?

After Dick was satisfied with mentally torturing Sam, he turned around and started out of the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

Sam jumped as the metal door's locks clicked into place. He closed his eyes and just wanted to disappear in himself. He pulled his legs close to his chest and tried to hide. He wanted out of his prison, and now it's seeming less and less likely.

A few single tears fell down his face, and he looked up into the dark night sky of the small window at the top of his room. Growing up he believed in angels, after meeting Cas his faith was renewed some, and all these months he's been praying. He didn't know if Cas could hear him or he was sure he would have helped in some way shape or form by now. The angel could have him zapped out of that place and back to Dean in five seconds flat. Unfortunately he figured the spells carved into his ribs also hid hid from Cas, and after five plus months the praying wasn't actually working. Now more than ever he needed for someone to start listening.

R&R