AUTHOR'S NOTE: A sincere apology for the massive delay caused by life's meddling. This update is short, but it's what I managed to jot down in the little time off I have from work. Thank you very much for those who took the time to give me a feedback. Peace!

DISCLAIMER: If I own them, things would be a lot easier...

NEARLY LOST YOU

by Tari Palantir

John slowly entered Sammy's school with a great sense of foreboding. Silently he moved towards the classrooms, aware of the fact that neither Sam nor his teacher has acknowledged his arrival. He thought from the way Sam's teacher sounded on the phone that his boy was well impatient for him to arrive he even thought that Sammy would be sitting on the school steps already, waiting for the familiar sound of his car. Being greeted by this silence…well, it raised his alarm bells even more than it already was.

Something's not right, he thought. Just like when Mary..

He couldn't continue the thought anymore as a familiar ache surged in his heart. Wincing, he turned to enter one of the classrooms, before going put again upon not seeing anybody inside.

"Sam?" he called out as he moved towards the entrance to his boy's classroom. "Daddy's here," he added more loudly upon receiving no reply. Unconsciously, he felt for his gun, loaded and ready should any need for it arise.

He half-expected to see his baby's head poke out from one of the doorways and shout "BOO!", just like the kid used to do whenever he came home late from a hunt. It pissed him off quite often, as he can still clearly recall how he had almost blown his baby's head off with his rifle in shock. But Sam's sheepish grin and puppy-dog eyes always made up for his dangerous prank.

But now, there isn't even any sign of his little boy, save for his painted handprint displayed on one of the classroom walls.

He turned, and froze at the sight before him.


"Sam! Wake up!"

Sam jolted out from his sleep at the urgent call, surprised to find himself on a bed. Blearily, he scanned his surroundings, just in time to see his older brother come in from the other room.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, "Dean said, flopping down on the squeaky mattress. "I thought I had to dump you in the tub or something."

Sam stared at his brother, confused. I thought I was in school, he thought. And Daddy was…

"Dad!" he blurted out. "Where's Daddy?!" Panicking, he frantically searched for any sign of his father.

"Whoa there, kiddo, "his brother replied, grabbing and steadying his shoulders. "Dad's out hunting the bad guys. It's just you and me here."

"But Daddy's s'pposed to pick me up from school, "Sam continued, puzzled at the realization of his whereabouts. "How come I'm here?"

Dean chuckled, ruffling his hair. "That was this morning, Samantha. It's night already."

He frowned at the name while his sandy blond-haired brother stood up and started for the kitchen.

"C'mon, let's eat. I'm starving."

Sam followed, still confused about the situation. He really thought he was supposed to be still in school, waiting for his father to come and get him. Deciding to trust Dean as he always do, he let the matter drop and proceeded to the rickety table provided by their rented motel room.

"Dig in," said Dean, already eating his dinner.

Sam sat and looked down at the contents of his bowl. "Spaghetti O's?"

"Of course it's Spaghetti O's," replied his brother. He guzzled a glass of orange juice. "It's your favorite."

Sam stared at his brother, a curious expression on his face. Dean noticed him looking and asked, "What's the matter, Sammy?"

"Nothing," he lied feebly, picking up his fork and starting to eat. "I – I just miss Daddy."

"Yeah? Well, me too."

They both continued to eat in comfortable silence. Sam tried to quell the growing unease inside him. Something's weird here, he mused, glancing casually around their motel room. He couldn't point it out exactly, but something about everything seemed different somehow.

As he bowed his head for another mouthful, an image of a strange man flashed in his mind. The man was blowing something towards him, but he couldn't figure what.

He didn't notice how Dean's eyes flashed yellow momentarily as his older brother gazed upon him with a sadistic hunger in his eyes.


John turned, and froze at the sight before him.

A pair of legs was sticking out from behind the teacher's desk, lying unnaturally still. He hurriedly went around the table and bent down, gun already drawn out.

Sammy's teacher lay there on the floor, unconscious. He let out a small sigh of relief upon finding a pulse. It was clear from the way she fell that somebody attacked and caught her by surprise. Heart hammering, he tried to look for any markings on the limp teacher, hoping to get an idea on just what the hell happened.

Because if somebody attacked Sammy's teacher, then that means…

"You're late."

John quickly turned and pointed his gun at the source of the deep male voice that suddenly came from behind him. A man, clad in jeans and a shirt, stood before him smiling wickedly. The man was holding a sleeping little boy in his arms, a boy with curly brown locks…

"Sam," he said in realization. "Give him to me," he ordered, still pointing the gun on this stranger.

His hands tensed and tightened even further around his gun as the man's eyes flickered from brown to yellow. Shit!

"Now, now, John," the man said in a patronizing tone. "You can't just tell people what to do you know? With you being late and all."

"What do you want?" he hissed, anger simmering in his blood. This was the asshole responsible for their messed up life. The one who snatched Mary and his happiness away from him. And now the demon was holding his youngest, the very one whom he fought so hard to protect.

The demon chuckled at his question. "What I want, John Winchester, is beyond your or any man's comprehension." He moved towards one of the chairs in the room and sat down, revealing Sam's face. His baby boy was curled up on the demon's lap, unmoving.

Although there were no visible injuries, John didn't want to think as to how Sam came to be in such a state.

"Such a pretty little kid you have here," the demon continued casually, tracing his fingers gently on the innocent face of his youngest. "So much potential…"

John could barely keep his temper in check at the sight. "Get your filthy hands off my son!" he spat.

But still the demon continued, smoothing away Sam's stubborn locks from his forehead.

"I think you should put your gun down now," he said calmly, "You don't want any accidents, do you?"

Then he bent down and lifted the sleeping boy closer to his chest, letting Sam's head lean limply backwards on his shoulder. "You don't want little Sammy here to get hurt, do you?"

John stared wrathfully at the evil entity using his baby as a shield. He looked at Sam, seemingly asleep, lashes fanned out on his chubby cheeks. His heart cried at the thought that someone of pure light as Sammy could be held by such darkness.

Hand shaking minutely, he placed the gun gently on the nearby desk, all the while staring at the yellow-eyed man.

The demon smiled triumphantly, relishing the defeat of the arrogant hunter.

"Good," he said, yellow eyes glowing ominously. "Now we can talk."


There you have it. I'll be updating as soon as I get another break from work. In the meantime, all your reviews are welcome and deeply appreciated. - Tari