AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, an upload! To say that I've been very busy is an understatement. I owe everyone who took time to read my humble work a huge apology. This was originally a oneshot, but I just can't write fast like my idols in fanfiction history. Thanks for those who reviewed and put me on their alerts.

DISCLAIMER: Alas, I don't. Hence, I mope.

NEARLY LOST YOU
By Tari Palantir

John had always hated the feeling of utter helplessness in his life, and he had vowed that he was done with it. Witnessing his wife's murder changed that view, making him aware of what little control he had in his life. On that fateful night, he felt the cold tendrils of despair grip his heart and that had almost made him want to break down and fade within that fiery nursery.

Truth be told, if Dean hadn't called out for him in alarm, he didn't think that he could have had the strength to save his baby boy and what's left of his heart.

Sammy…

He watched as a rivulet of red slowly made its way down his baby's cheek, all the while trying to calm his frantic mind enough to formulate a plan out of this mess.

Good thing that Dean's not here, he thought. Otherwise, we're all in deep trouble.

His thoughts were cut off as the demon spoke once more, yellow eyes gazing at him stuck on the wall. He was still cradling Sam, one hand still softly smoothing the boy's unruly hair.

"Poor Samuel," the demon said. "Dean's not here to save him like he usually does."

He smirked at the pinned hunter, who was trying hard to break free from his strong invisible bonds.

"It's quite unfair, isn't it? Giving Dean such huge responsibility? I can't blame Samuel for picking him over you, given the circumstances."

John frowned, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Language, John. You're in an educational institution."

The moment was interrupted by the sudden sound of Sammy moaning, his young face scrunched up in pain. John cringed as another trail of blood made its way down his son's nostril.

"What the hell have you done to him?!"

The demon scoffed at John's outburst. He dabbed at the red fluid with his index finger and popped it in his mouth. "Hmm."

John thought he would be sick at the sight.

"Do you know how Sam's blood hums with tremendous power? How he glows so brightly that we can't help but take a closer look?"

"I want Samuel, John. You just have to accept the fact that he was never only yours.'

"Oh yeah," John spat. "Like that would happen."

The demon chuckled. "Ah, the classic Winchester façade. Put on a brave face, and hopefully the enemy will think you're not to be messed with."

He looked at the sleeping boy once more. "I hate to break it to you, but Sam actually belongs to my side of the fence." A sly smile formed on his lips. "Of course, with your goody-goody training at home and in this place, he needs a little push."

John frowned, his heart hammering as he processed what has been said.

"You see John, right now Sam is dreaming himself together with the person he trusts the most," the demon continued. "Sadly, it isn't you."

"Dean." John blurted out. Is he also unconscious like Sam, locked in a dream state?

"Right on." replied the demon. "Dean then will take him to a certain place, a place where Sam's mind will be vulnerable…and voila! He's mine for the taking."

"You're really stupid if you think Dean will ever do that." He countered sourly, trying not to let his voice betray the fear he was feeling.

The demon laughed. "Who said it's the real Dean?"

The hunter paled at the realization. So Dean is not really involved. But that means…

"Sam knows his brother like the back of his hand." he muttered proudly. "He'll see through your petty trick."

"Will he, now?" the man sneered. "You'll see."

"Sam is mine the moment he wakes up."


"Sam, we gotta ditch this place."

Sam looked up from his drawing paper, his green crayon halfway through the page. Dean was standing impatiently near the door, nervously peeking out in the darkness through the motel window. "Huh? Why?"

"We just have to, okay?" Dean replied, a hint of panic in his voice.

"But Dean, I'm not done coloring my tree!" he protested. "Ms. Dizon wants us to finish it for tomorrow."

"Sam, this is more important than homework!" Dean snapped, before heading towards the bed and putting their belongings back in their duffel. "Start packing your stuff now."

Sam followed his brother, confused at Dean's behavior. "But Daddy told us to stay here, right? We can't just leave."

"Dad was supposed to return this morning," Dean replied worriedly. "He might be in trouble, Sam. He hasn't even called, not once."

"But where will we go? Do you know where he went?"

"Not exactly," his brother replied. "But he mentioned this house in Kansas, so we'll go there." Finished with his packing, Dean started checking the guns left by their father by the bed.

Sam frowned in confusion. "Kansas? That's where we lived before right?"

A nod was only Dean's reply before an awkward silence filled the room.

"Why don't we go to Pastor Jim first?" he suggested. "He might know where Dad went."

"No," Dean replied. "We have to go straight to Kansas."

"How about Caleb? He can get us to Dad."

"Look Sam, Dad may not have much time. We need to leave as soon as possible."

Sam looked on as his brother finished packing their gear. What was going on? he thought. His brother was acting weird. "And how will we go there?" he asked his brother with one hand on his hip. "We don't have the Impala."

Dean looked back at him, seemingly amused at the motherly pose his little brother had. "We'll take the bus, dummy."

Sam frowned. "I'm not a dummy!"

"No, you're just a girl."

"Dean!"

"C'mon, grab your gear. We need to help Dad."

Sam looked at Dean for a moment, confusion still evident in his eyes.

"Just trust me, okay?" Dean said after a while, staring intently at his brother.

"Okay," Sam replied before scooping up his crayons and papers on the floor. If Dean was so confident, he'll follow him.

Once more, he didn't see the yellowish tint that momentarily lit up Dean's eyes.

"Good boy…"


Dean stopped, hands on his bent knees in front of Sam's school. Gradually, he controlled his ragged breathing, wiping the sweat of his forehead. Looking around, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary in the deserted parking lot.

Maybe Sam's still inside. Did Dad forget to pick him up again? he thought, turning to go up the front steps.

"Here I go, Sammy," he murmured to himself. "I swear, if I find you just sitting all shiny and great on that sandbox I'll never live it down." Running out screaming is not a turn-on in school.

"Sammy?" he called out as he went in.


Inside, Sam moaned softly, eyes fluttering, still held in the demon's arms.

The evil entity's borrowed mouth twitched in a smirk, staring at the stuck hunter maliciously.

"What the hell are you smiling about?"

"I gotta hand it you, John," the demon replied. "You sure have bred such a stubborn clan."

Before John could even reply, the unmistakable voice of his eldest son echoed from across the hallway. "Sammy?"

Shit.

"We've got company," the demon said in a sing-song voice.


There you go! Hope you still like it. Reviews and flames are most welcome. I love to bask in praise and wallow in despair. Tari