Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters.

A/n : A huge warm thank you to whoever reviewed. Here's the next installment. Enjoy!

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Stronger Than Blood

Chapter 2 : Fight For Him

Breakfast at the table in Pastor Jim's place was tense, despite Sam's efforts to get everyone to laugh at him. His attempt to suck noodles into his mouth, known to have never failed to make Bobby laugh, was now met with a grunt and a slight reprimand from his father. Even Dean was ignoring him, toying with his food and pushing it around his plate. Finally, Sam gave it up and put his fork down; he turned to his big brother with a pout, "Dean s'everyone mad at me? What'd I do?"

Dean's blonde head snapped up in surprise. So did the other hunters' and they grimaced, hearing the little boy's confused voice. Dean tried for a reassuring smile and failed miserably; he was extremely pissed. He knew something was wrong, he wasn't two for Pete's sake. Caleb was usually here before the Winchesters for summer break. But no one was telling him anything - treating him like he was younger than eleven. And Sammy wasn't making it any easier, asking unwanted questions and generally annoying everyone, although it was inadvertent. Dean took a deep breath; all he was going to achieve by yelling at Sammy would be his tears.

"Its okay, Sammy," Dean tried to smile again, "No one's mad at you. Why d'you say that?"

"'Cause no one's talking to me," Sam looked around the table, accusingly, "Not even you."

Dean didn't say anything, just slipped an arm around Sam's shoulders, hoping to hell Sam would shut up now, because his dad was getting that look in his eyes. But Sam, of course, like all six year olds, couldn't.

"Dean?"

Dean stole a look at his father, "Yeah?" Please let Sammy ask about - hell, marsupials or something.

"Why's Caleb not here still?" Damn.

Something like rage broke out inside Dean and he started, "I don't know, Sammy. I mean, I would, if someone told me what the hell was going on -"

"Dean," John warned, "Language."

"Damn it!" Dean threw his fork down and stood up, his voice rising, "Screw language, dad! Where is Caleb? Is he in trouble?"

"Dean," John looked up at his eleven year old and wondered if his own face had gone that shade of red that Dean's had, "Sit down and finish your breakfast."

Sam looked between the two of them, lower lip wobbling, "Dean?"

"For once in your goddamn life just shut up, Sammy!" Dean yelled, pushing his chair back and storming to the foot of the stairs, preparing to climb them when John's booming voice stopped him, "Dean! That's no way to talk to your brother! Get back here, sit down and finish your breakfast."

Sam flinched and dropped his gaze.

"No! Why isn't anyone telling me anything? Caleb's in trouble, isn't he?"

"Dean," Pastor Jim spoke quietly but was over-ridden by John.

"Dean, if you don't come back here right now, apologize to your brother and finish your food, you won't have breakfast for a week, so help me God ..."

Dean's face lost its redness as soon as it came. He stared at his father stonily, before turning on his heel and stamping up the stairs, "Fine."

John sighed and rubbed a hand over his sweaty face. Bobby mumbled an excuse and got up, closely followed by Joshua. Sam pulled his knees up to his chest, not daring to say anything, scared and wet brown eyes locked on the table.

"Sam," Jim said, softly, so as not to startle the boy, but Sam jumped anyway, "Go look for your brother, please."

The little boy got off his chair, almost instantly but stood where he was, shuffling his feet.

"What is it, Sammy?" John finally asked, unable to stand the lost puppy look on Sammy's innocent face.

Sam flinched again but spoke, voice choked with tears, "Can Dean eat his breakfast, please, daddy?"

John's throat closed at the plea and he nodded. Goddamn it, Caleb. Where the hell are you?

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His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, but he kept his gaze on the muzzle of the gun pointed towards him.

"Tell us," the man tightened his grip on Caleb's neck, "Tell us where he is."

The man holding the gun cocked it and Caleb felt the immediate need to scoff, "You won't shoot me, idiot, save the drama for Lindsay Lohan."

The man's mask was missing today and Caleb could make out an inch long scar on his cheek. The man choking him glanced up at Gunman, exchanging a blank look.

"What?" Caleb needed to stall for time, "You've never seen 'Confessions of a Drama Queen'? What'cha been living under? A stone?"

"The only person who'll be living under a stone will be you, if you don't tell us where Sam is."

Caleb tried to roll his eyes, "Again with the Sam person."

"We know you know him," he growled, "Where is he?"

Caleb didn't answer, licking the blood from his lip. Gunman growled, giving him a slight push that sent him reeling back. Throwing a grin at his captors, Caleb pretended he was going to sleep. The two men threw the gates close and strode off, leaving Caleb alone again. Caleb opened his eyes and glanced around. He hated to admit this but there would be no way out of this. The only person who would be able to locate him was Sammy. And he was too little...

Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine the kid's bright smile, tousled brown hair and eyes that could bring the mighty John Winchester to his knees. And even if it was for only a minute, the pain vanished. This was for Sammy. He'd die before he let these creeps lay a hand on him.

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Sam stood outside the brown bathroom door, tears streaking down his face. He raised a hand to knock and then Dean yelled from inside, "Go away!"

More tears made their way down his cheeks and he knocked again," D - Dean?"

Dean didn't say anything this time, which was even worse and Sam hiccupped, the plate in his hands shaking," Dean? M'sorry. Is - is -" suddenly a thought struck the boy, "Is it my fault? I'm sorry, please -" his voice gave out there, breaking down into small sobs and leaning his head against the door.

The door suddenly swung open and he tumbled into Dean, plate first and got sauce all over Dean's shirt, enough to dissolve into tears again. Dean took the plate from him and setting it down, pulled him into his arms, walking them both to the bed.

"Sammy, shhh," Dean murmured into the brown hair, role of the protector, role of the big brother, "Hey, I'm sorry I yelled, okay? Nothing's your fault. Stop crying, shhh."

The tears stilled and Sam's puffy eyes looked up at him, shyly, "Are you st - still mad at me?"

Dean sighed, "I was never mad at you. I'm sorry I yelled, Sammy. We're friends, okay?"

Sam seemed to consider this for a while before he nodded, "Okay. Will you eat your breakfast now?"

Dean smiled and ruffled up his hair, "I will. C'mon, sit with me?"

"Okay, can we play Candy Land later?"

"Sure."

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A/n : Okay, okay before you get on my case about John - let's all remember that he's very stressed right now. Caleb's his student and he's obviously scared for him. Which is why he jumped at Dean's throat. Thanks to my wonderful beta supergirl3684 for putting up with my crappy spacing! Review!!