A/N: Okay, everyone. I'm back. Sorry, I took a mini-hiatus. It's a little difficult to live in Supernatural Mindspace all the time, and with as many stories as I'm juggling, I have literally been eating, sleeping, breathing Winchesters since July. I love it, love writing, love reviews and talking to all of you, love everything about it, but sometimes I need to step back for a day or two, so I can fall back in love with my stories.

So, I marathoned three seasons of Once Upon A Time (Hook should totally call me. Seriously.)

Then I reread this story from the beginning, which took some time, I had forgotten how long this story had gotten. But I feel a little more in touch with it, now.

Sorry for the short update, but I'm do for several updates on several projects, so I am working double time. Anyway, now the scene is set for the next chapter to have some interesting things in it. As many of you guessed, John has started hunting the Colt, which plays a big part on the end game of this story, though not it the way you think.

Reviews are love, and I promise next chapter will be longer, just needed to set the scene, so to speak.

As Always,

EverReader

Prisoner Of War- Chapter Thirty-One

"The Line Between Hero and Villain"

"And it's definitely never been haunted before?" Dean asked Sam for a third time.

Sam took a deep, calming breath. "Nope. No cold spots, no EVP, no flickering lights, knocking, rustling, moving objects, disappearing objects, problems with TV's, computers, phones or homicidal students. Zip. Zilch. Nada."

Dean grimacing. "Okay, okay. Sorry, I'll stop asking. It's just weird, you know, that this pops up now, just when..."

"When I start going there?" Sam interjected curtly.

Dean looked over from the microfiche he'd been reading. "No. Sam. That isn't what I was going to say. You been there for a couple of weeks now, anyway, and this is just now happening. What I was going to say was there's no history of haunting, so that rules out old deaths. And there's been no recent accidents, murders, or even disappearances. So that rules out recent deaths."

"So. Haunted object, cursed object..." Sam started muttering quietly. "No. No, it wasn't a cursed object. There was definitely a temperature drop in the room. I wasn't the only one to feel it. Even Rebecca did."

Dean looked up quickly. "Rebecca? Who's Rebecca?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "She was my lab partner today."

"In Chemistry?" Dean asked with a waggle of his brows.

"...Yes." Sam admitted reluctantly, and as expected, Dean's grin grew.

"What's she look like?" He asked, nudging Sam in the side with his elbow.

Sam looked over, unamused. "Well, about the time Alex tried to pour acid on Tyler's face, I'd say she looked pretty freaked out."

"Bet she looked pretty impressed when you saved him" Dean said, returning finally to his research.

Sam resisted the urge to beat his head against his own microfiche reader. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Maybe it's not the school. Maybe it's Alex?"

Dean shook his head. "Alex's house is clean, family's clean, whole boring life is squeaky clean. What did he say again?"

Sam frowned, picking through his memories for Alex's exact words. "He said something about bullying or revenge. I don't know, it was happening pretty fast. The 'kill you' part was pretty clear, though."

Dean nodded. "Okay, so revenge as a motivator. Pretty standard ghost MO. But why Alex? Why Tyler?"

Sam frowned in thought. "Tyler and some of the others guys can be assholes to some of the other kids. The nerdy ones. They give them a hard time."

Dean's eyes narrow. "They give you a hard time?" He asked.

Sam laughed without any real humor. "Hardly. I'm taller than most. In fact, I don't see too much of the bullying at all, anymore. I...might have stepped in last week when Derek, one of the guys on the basketball team, was hassling James, one of the..."

"Nerds?" Dean supplied helpfully.

Sam cut his eyes over to him. "Freshman, Dean. One of the freshman. Anyway, Derek was giving James a hard time-"

"Wedge?" Dean guessed and Sam shook his head.

"You're showing your age, Dean. Wedgies are old school now. No, Derek was trying to see if James could...fit into his locker."

Dean whistled. "Classic. What happened?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, my hand might have slipped...into Derek's face. Twice. Told him to stop being such a jerk."

Dean looked at Sam appraisingly. "What aren't you telling me?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Well, school had just let out, but...they halls were still pretty full."

Dean laughed. "Sam, my man. Marking your territory in front of an audience. I'm proud of you."

Sam scowled. "Well, don't be. You shouldn't be proud. It wasn't fair of me to hurt Derek. I'm trained for this. Derek's just a regular kid. I just wanted him to lay off James for a while. I didn't realize a crowd had gathered until afterward. I told him to stop being a jerk, but at the end, I was being one too."

Dean walked over to Sam. "Sam, you were helping someone. And guys like Derek have to learn that someone will stop them, or they just keep doing things like that too other people. I am proud of you."

Sam rubbed his forehead. "Well, I doubt Derek feels that way. Half the school's been treating him like a pariah all week. And it wasn't because he was bullying James. It's because he lost a fight with me. The only upside was, I thought maybe some of the others had laid off the younger kids, but now maybe they just were making sure I wasn't around."

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Dean studied his brother. Sam looked tired and pale, and the way he was rubbing his forehead made Dean suspect he was having another of his all too frequent headaches.

Dean wasn't sure if Sam had his migraine meds on him, but that was fine, because Dean had taken to carrying a dose on him.

Sam couldn't take them on an empty stomach, though. Dean glanced up at the clock.

It was a little after five.

"Let's grab something to eat. This is a dead end. We need to take this to the next level." Dean said.

Sam glanced over at him. "What's that?" He asked.

"Feet on the ground, Sammy. We already got one man in." Dean stated.

"Yeah." Sam agreed, "Me. But what about you?" He asked.

Dean smiled. "Don't worry, I'll think of something."

The boys headed over to the diner, Dean thinking over everything Sam had told him. He'd meant what he'd said, he was proud of Sam for standing up to that jerk. God only knows how many times Dean had been forced to lay down the law at a new school when some asshole had taken one look at his undersized little brother and seen an easy mark. The stupid thing was, even when he had been the smallest kid in his class, he'd probably would have been able to take out even someone much bigger, because like Sam had said back at the library, Sam was trained to fight. That put him a class above most average bullies, and Sam had known it, even back then.

Was that why Sam had never fought back for himself? Had it seemed unfair, to him?

From the sound of it, the only reason Sam had interfered last week was because someone else was getting hurt.

At least he had told Dean about it. That was something. Dean was determined to out wait Sam, and this...whatever the hell his brother was going through. Come hell or high water, Sam was going to learn that Dean wasn't going to give up on him. But it was hard when Sam didn't let him in, didn't talk or share.

Dean didn't just want Sam to re-learn to trust him on hunts. He wanted Sam to trust him period. Whatever stupid switch had flipped in his brother's mind to make him think that Dean couldn't or wouldn't have his back, Dean was going to un-flip.

He just had to figure out what the hell it was first.

Maybe this case was a blessing in disguise, a chance to see Sam interact with his classmates, a part of his life Dean had been blocked out of since leaving high school.

They sat down at their usual table, and once again they went through their usual song and dance, about Sam ordering salad (not real food) and Dean ordering a burger (bad for him).

They had just started eating when a group of girls came in, talking hysterically. One of them spied Sam, and ran up to their table, tears streaming down her face.

"Sam, oh, my god, have you heard?" She said tearfully.

Sam had stood automatically, putting his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "What is it, Rebecca? Did Tyler get worse at the hospital?"

She shook her head. "No. It's even worse. I don't know what's going on. It's like the whole school's gone nuts or something. It's Jennifer. Jennifer Warden. She was in the bathroom, and Irene Cook came in. They got into some fight, I guess, and then..." She dissolved into tears, practically throwing herself into Sam's arms, and Dean met his brother's bewildered eyes.

Deciding to try and help his brother out, Dean spoke gently. "Rebecca, what happened."

Pulling reluctantly out of Sam's arms, she looked from one brother to the other.

"Irene killed her. Jennifer's...dead."

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John studied his map intently.

Dean had called him earlier with the update about Sam's school, but it sounded like the boys had it well in hand. John wouldn't step in unless they needed serious help.

Sam seemed to be coming along nicely, in his attitude and demeanor, at least. His emerging powers were alarming, of course, but not wholly unexpected.

If Sam could just continue to channel them to hunting, perhaps he could stave off his fate.

For a little while, anyway.

John placed another pin, marking another location.

A nursery fire.

It had started again.

But this time, John would be ready.

Bobby was narrowing down on Daniel Elkins, and then John would have what he needed to stop that hell spawn that had destroyed his family.

Maybe, just maybe it would save Sam.

And if not, then John would do what needed to be done.

One way or another, it would finally be done.