BETA:-Vonnie, she is great.

A/N:- I am so so so sorry for the delay. I have been unbelievably busy lately. Thank you so much for your awesome reviews and support. I promise, I will update soon, real soon. Please, don't leave me.

**Special thanksto 'Gabi2305'- for her suggestions, 'Soncnica'- for her awesome encouragement and kicking my lazy "ahem" hard, 'GaelicAngel'- for her kind pmand every single reviewer for leaving such wonderful reviews. You all are "WONDERFUL"**

PORTRAIT

Dean was totally dumfounded seeing Sam pass out so sudden and without any warning, he released his hold on him like he was being electrocuted. Sam's lifeless body dropped to the floor with a small thud and his face lolled to the right side. Dean gasped in panic and sat perplexed not knowing what he should do now.

Suddenly the loud buzz of his cell phone filtered through the silent room and jolted him back to his senses. He swallowed nervously and got down to Sam, crawling to his side.

"Ss…Sammy, wwa…wake up?" His voice trembled. He cupped his brother's face with his palm and tapped slightly. Sam's head jostled slightly with each slap but he remained unresponsive. The one thing that unnerved him most was the blood flowing from Sam's nose.

The phone was still ringing and Dean knew without any doubt that it was their father. He shakily stood up and picked up the phone from the couch. He pressed the button and answered, though his gaze remained fixed on his little brother.

"Dad?" Dean swallowed.

'Dean, son what happened? Did you find Sam?' John could swear that something was wrong, when he heard his older son's shaky voice.

"Yes Dad, I found him. Da…Dad, he…he…" He was stuttering. He crouched beside Sam and placed two fingers on Sam's carotid artery. He found Sam's heart was beating rapidly and his face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat.

'What's wrong Dean? Is Sam okay?' John asked anxiously and pressed harder on the accelerator.

"Dad he came back a while ago and suddenly got mad. We had a little fight and then suddenly his nose started bleeding and…and he passed out. I…I can't wake him up Dad; some…something is wrong with Sammy." Dean informed, he sounded so nervous.

'What? Oh my God, is…is he breathing okay?'

"Shallow and fast and…and he is sweating heavily."

'Okay okay, Dean you take care of him alright. I will be back in a while.' John hung up the phone right after finishing his last words.

Dean threw the phone, somehow managing to hit the couch and slid towards Sam. He tapped his cheeks again, encouraging him to wake up but there was no such luck. Sam was totally out cold, only God knew why. Dean inhaled a deep breath and grabbed his brother's shoulder. He gently hauled him up on his feet and dragged him to the farthest bed. After laying his unconscious brother carefully on it, Dean quickly grabbed a wet washcloth and wiped the blood and excessive sweat from his brother's face and body.

"What's wrong with you Sammy?"

Sam woke up with a disproportionate headache and moaned too softly to be heard. He felt something wet was lying on his forehead but still his head felt like it was burning inside. He could hear the muffled voice of his brother and father and he could swear without any doubt they were talking about him.

'His blood pressure was up so high Dean. How could that be possible?' His father's anxious voice entered in his brain and he started feeling irritated.

'My blood pressure would be normal if you start treating me normal Dad!' Sam thought with his eyes closed.

'He was acting crazy dad, the way he was kicking and throwing curses at me…'

Sam's nostril flared and his eyes were burning hot, when hearing his brother's words. He gritted his teeth silently. 'Great. Now Dean has started b*tching about me. But what did I do?'

'You think he was mad because we didn't give him money… … … … …' suddenly Sam's head swirled and he practically could hear the words his family had never said.

'That brat always wants money and everything. I don't know why he is being so selfish,'John's anger filled voice boomed in Sam's ears and he flinched.

'You're right. And he never listens to us and every god damned time gets his a** kicked. I am tired of this stupid kid.' Sam couldn't believe that Dean was saying those things about him.

'I am so gonna teach him a lesson when he wakes up.' Sam whimpered as John said this out loud.

'And I will enjoy seeing the freak getting punished.' He heard Dean laughed cruelly.

'Freak…a freak…'

'Whiny stupid brat…always needs money…'

'A freak…'

'Freak…freak…freak…'

Sam started thrashing on the bed, as this wrathful ranting entered into his mind and he screamed, covering his ears with both hands. Instantly he felt couple of strong hands grab him, but he flinched away. He opened his bleary eyes but couldn't see the worried face of his father and brother looming in front of him, but instead saw his family's hateful stares.

"Leave me alone." He shouted and scrambled off the bed. He fell on the floor, entangling his legs with the blanket and backed away.

Dean and John were clearly astounded, seeing the youngest boy reacting so fearfully, like he would burn, if they touched him. The way he was screaming and shaking, it was like he wasn't even aware of the situation or where he was.

"Sammy, calm down. Listen to me…" John tried to touch his youngest son and Sam uncoordinatedly batted his hand.

"No, back off." Sam got up from the floor holding on to the wall and practically ran into the bathroom, slamming the door hard, leaving his father and brother in utmost confusion.

Sam was grasping the sink for leverage, as he was almost bent over it. He was panting heavily; his head was throbbing like someone was skewing his brain with a knife. He couldn't understand what was happening to him. He actually couldn't remember what had happened last night when he got back home from that painter's house. All he could recall was the painter sketching his outline and suddenly he started feeling dizzy. He could feel the old man was sketching fast and with each stroke, he was feeling increasingly faint. He could recall that Mr. Williams was asking him about his family, what he thought about them. It was kind of personal and he wasn't supposed to answer him. But that old man was being so kind on him and after finishing the first sitting, he gave him twenty bucks right away.

He remembered the old man telling him something about his father that he did not love him that he cared less about him than he should. His brother loved him for sure, but he did nothing but follow his father's orders. If his father ordered him to stop caring he would. Sam tried not to listen to those false statements about his family, but it entered straight into his mind. He instantly felt a blinding pain starting to build inside his skull as his anger at his family gradually increased. His father's denial about every single thing, the fight between him and his big brother, everything started to flood inside him. He was feeling like passing out right then and there from the extreme rage burning inside him or even better beating someone to death.

He didn't even remember how he reached home. But it was clear that after returning he was involved in a fight with his brother again and then suddenly everything went black. He didn't have any idea what happened to him until he woke up and heard those natural or unnatural words flowing from his father's and brother's mouth. He knew for sure that something was very, very wrong with this picture, with him, but he couldn't arrange things in the right place. Every time he looked at his father's or Dean's face, his blood started to boil and the pain inside his head shattered his entire nerves.

He grabbed the sink more tightly and opened the faucet. He cupped some water and splashed it on his face several times. His legs felt wobbly and a sudden weakness swept over him. He took a deep breath and clumsily went to take a shower.

Dean and John were impatiently waiting outside of the bathroom for the last half hour, but Sam still hadn't come out. They were anxious, no, super anxious about their youngest. His sudden change of personality, this outburst left them totally dumbfounded.

After several more minutes passed, they heard the bathroom door opened and a very haggard looking Sam came out. His hair was wet, still dripping water and his face pale.

"Sammy?" Dean called him, but he was kind of astonished seeing Sam flinch at hearing his voice. Keeping his head bowed, Sam quickly collected some fresh jeans and shirt and disappeared again.

"What's wrong with that kid?" John mumbled and anxiously looked at his oldest.

Dean shrugged, dejectedly chewing his bottom lip. After a couple of minutes, Sam walked out from the bathroom and picked up his school bag. He hadn't even bothered with breakfast.

"Sam, where do you think you're going?" John asked. He tried to be soft. but anxiousness made his tone a little authoritative.

"School." Sam muttered, as if he didn't want to answer.

"No Sam, you don't have to go school today. You take some rest alright. You are not well." John congratulated himself silently for composing such a soothing tone for his youngest son.

Sam's fists clenched and unclenched as a wave of anger washed over him. 'Oh, now your father is showing concern for you? He is treating like you are some kinda invalid?' Sam gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as an unnatural voice spoke inside his head. He tried to ignore the voice, but couldn't, like he didn't have any command over his own body and mind. He spun around furiously and almost growled,

"Now you're telling me what is or isn't good for me, huh! Dad!" Sam's nostrils flared. "Well sir, you don't have to worry about me anymore or pretend like you care. I found out the truth already, know how much you actually do." His lips were twitching; eyes became narrow. "So suck it up."

John's mouth hung open, hearing his son's sudden outburst. He wasn't sure it really was his sweet mouthed baby boy talking. This wasn't his Sam; Sam could never talk to him like this, unless he was possessed or hexed.

"Sam…" John swallowed nervously. "…Sammy, what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Sam bellowed like a fierce animal. "You're asking what's wrong with me? There's something wrong with you guys, you always treat me like I am a waste of space. You always tell me, no, order me, what I have to do or not, but never listen to me even once. I can't do anything without your f****** permission. So yeah, something's wrong with you." Sam swayed on his feet and grabbed his head like he was going to keel over. He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply through the pain.

Seeing his brother in such pain, Dean cried "Sammy" and strode towards him, but halted when Sam put a hand upward to stop him and wheezed. "Don't. Don't you come…ah…ah…" Sam gasped.

Dean stopped reluctantly, seeing Sam almost hyperventilated all of a sudden. Now he was sure something was definitely wrong with his brother and this was not normal. Maybe Sam was possessed or something; he quietly muttered 'Christo', but fortunately or 'unfortunately' nothing happened.

Sam almost bent down and gasped loudly, hands resting on his knees. At that moment Dean's eyes caught something on Sam's neck. It looked like a red or pink mark but he didn't understand what that was. 'Is that a blood mark' Dean thought, but startled when his little brother clumsily stood up again and headed towards door.

Both older Winchester knew it would be fruitless to try and to prevent Sam from leaving. It was obvious Sam wasn't himself and they weren't sure, if it would be a good idea to let him go to school. They knew Sam might do something stupid in his intense, unnatural anger and bewilderment.

John winked at Dean, telling him to follow his brother. Dean nodded in apprehension and stealthily followed him. John sighed wearily and rubbed his hand on his bearded face. "What's wrong with you Sammy?" He mumbled and punched the speed dial on his cell phone.

"'elo?"

"Bobby, its John. I need your help."

"John, what's wrong?"

"Bobby, its Sammy."

Dean was standing outside of Sammy's new school, leaning against his beloved impala. It was almost past three and he was standing guard since Sam entered the school. Sam didn't notice him stalking after him or else another drama would have happened. Dean still couldn't believe just what had happened earlier. Why did Sammy behave like that, like he didn't recognize his surroundings; didn't know his brother or father. And Dean was one hundred percent sure that Sam wouldn't make such a drama for just a mere amount of money. It was something unnatural, Sammy might be under some hoodoo and Dean was sure as hell he was going to the end of the world to find what ever made his sweet little brother practically turn into a monster and finish it.

Dean seemed to be lost in his own thought so he didn't notice someone was moving quietly beside him. He startled heavily and spun so quickly. He got knocked into the man beside him.

"What the…" Dean muttered under his breath, as he saw an old man sprawled on the pavement. Some paper was scattered everywhere beside him and some was still clutched in his hand.

"Oh, I am sorry. Are you all right mister?" Dean apologized and helped the fallen man to stand up on his feet.

"Yeah, it's okay young man. I am alright." The old man assured Dean and muttered a 'Thank you' as Dean picked up those fallen papers and handed him over.

"You seem new here boy." The old man asked Dean and walked slowly towards the school boundary wall.

Dean frowned slightly and followed him. "Well yeah. My family and I came to live here just a few weeks ago. Looks like you know everyone in this town." He looked at the papers the old man was holding and saw those were the posters of someone.

The old man coughed a little and answered. "This is small town and I live here since I was born. So yeah, I almost know everyone who lives here." He picked one of those posters and put some glue behind it. His hands were trembling. "Boy, will you please help me to stick these posters on the wall?"

Dean chewed his lips and looked at the school building. Sam's classes still hadn't ended, so he still had some time. Besides, the old man was looking really exhausted and it wouldn't kill him, if he had helped a poor man.

"Sure, no problem." Dean took half of the posters and started gluing. He took a better look at the person on the poster. It was a young boy, almost around Sam's age, who looked really handsome by the way. The word 'Missing' was printed beneath the photo. After sticking one of those posters Dean asked. "Who is this kid anyway?"

"My grandson," The old man bit his lip and looked away. Dean could swear he saw tears in his eyes. "…been missing for the last two weeks. He is the only one I have left after my son and his wife died in an accident." He chuckled sadly. "But you see, my fate doesn't seem to be cooperating with me so much lately. After loosing my son and daughter-in-law, I lost my Charles too." A rebel teardrop fell on his age ridden wrinkled face.

Dean's heart twisted seeing this old man's grief, though he wasn't the man of emotions. But he knew what it felt like when someone looses his beloved one. He knew he would be devastated, if he lost his little brother. He couldn't live without his baby brother. He swallowed hard when he remembered how his brother was throwing random curses at him and fighting with him. He shuddered at the memory of Sam passing out in his arm and the bleeding from his nose. He shook his head and asked, picking another poster. "I am sorry Mr…"

"…Russell." The old man filled Dean and smiled sadly.

"Dean Trescott." Dean nodded and stuck another poster on lamppost. "So, did you inform to police?"

"Yes, I did. But they still haven't found him. They think he has run away." Mr. Russell stared at his grandson's photo. "But you know what, Charlie wasn't the one who would run away for nothing. He was really a good boy. But the day before he went missing, he was acting kind of weird."

His last words hit Dean like a shell. 'This sounds familiar' Dean thought and asked urgently.

"What? What did he do?"

The old man seemed to be kind of shocked, seeing Dean's sudden behavioral change. Sure that young man knew something. He blinked in confusion a couple of times and asked. "Why you want to know?"

Dean had become agitated. "Sir, please. You have to tell me. Maybe I can help you to find your grandson. Tell me what did he do?"

"Umm…he wanted to go to a picnic with his friends, but I didn't give him permission. He is only sixteen years old and wanted to hang out with some rich older boys from his school. He tried to make me say yes, but I didn't agree." He seemed to be thinking and Dean was tapping his foot in frustration. This all happened to them not too long ago, also.

Mr. Russell continued. "Well, after those boys went out, Charlie was angry at me for not letting him go. And then the day after that he came home exhausted and started screaming at me like a mad person. Later that night, he was running a high grade fever accompanied by some nose bleed…"

Dean gasped sharply as he heard what Mr. Russell was telling about his grandson. He was now dead sure this had to have some connection to these circumstances. He breathed rapidly as he remembered about Sam's earlier action and felt a pang of guilt inside his gut for hitting his brother when he had no control over himself. He asked fidgeting. "Mr. Russell, what happened with your grandson wasn't any usual matter, as well as his disappearance. Now can you tell me about the persons, who disappeared before your grandson?"

Mr. Russell was now looking a little nervous after Dean verbally jumped on him. "I…ah…how do you know about this?"

"I just know." Dean sounded real frustrated now. "Please Mr. Russell; tell me if you know something."

"Umm, I…I think Mr. Lawson's daughter went missing…" He was thinking fast. "…he also told me about something wicked like that, now I remember." His voice trembled with uncanny fear.

'Oh my God' Dean was pacing nervously. "I can't believe it, oh my God. Sammy…" he mumbled under his breath and looked at the school's main gate again. His body was screaming at him to run into the school hall and make sure that his baby brother was okay. But he needed one last answer. He quickly asked, "Sir, do you remember anything unusual happened with Charles after he got sick?"

"I don't…wait…"

"What?" Dean almost grabbed the old man's thin biceps in anxiousness.

"He…he was mumbling something about…I don't know if I heard right…he was mumbling something about a painter or something, might have been delirious."

Dean was clearly taken aback after hearing this. "Painter?" His brows knitted in confusion, "Where does that come from?"

"Yes, I was confused too. But I am sure he was talking about some painter, but I thought he was talking in delusion."

Dean was thinking fast, trying to bring things into perspective. He thought about the witch, they had been looking for so long, but couldn't find any clue about her. But a 'painter'…what the hell?

"I don't understand where does that …wait a minute…" Dean was talking to himself but suddenly something flashed in his mind. When Sam was panting at the motel room, he saw a red or pink patch on his neck. He thought it was blood… "Oh God, Sammy…" Dean cried and ran toward the school hall and burst into Sam's classroom.

"Sammy!"

But unfortunately, there was no sign of his little brother and Dean started to hyperventilate. 'Where is my little brother, where is Sam?' He frantically searched the cafeteria and other rooms too, but didn't find his brother. He suddenly grabbed one of Sam's classmates, who was passing by him, by the shirt and almost cried.

"Where is Sam?"

The thin teenage boy, whom Dean had grabbed ferociously, almost buckled under his stare and stuttered.

"Ss—Sam, he is gone."

"What?" Dean screamed with extreme fear.

"He got involved in a fight with some bullies and then…please don't hurt me…" The boy was now shaking.

"What happened then?" Dean shook him hardly.

"Ehh…he beat them up really bad and then ran away. Please leave me alone."

Dean's eyes were widened in horror after hearing that and released the panic stricken boy, like his hands had been burned. How could this happen, he was watching after him the whole frigging time. How could he sneak out like that?

Dean staggered outside and pulled out his cell phone. As he was going to call his father, the phone rang.

"Dad!"

"Dean, we got a problem. I called Bobby and he told me something…"

Before John could finish his sentence, Dean interrupted. "Dad, its Sam."

"What! What happened with him Dean?"

"Dad…" Dean's voice trembled, "…Sammy is missing."

TBC

Ohhh….Gawd! I lost Sammy…nooooouuuuu…..what 'm gonna do now! Please tell me.

I tried to make it two shot, but I couldn't. Hope you're not disappointed. There is only one chapter left, 'I PROMISE'-let's see what happens with our "poster boy"…hehe…I mean Sammy.

So friends, what do you think about this chapter? Please leave a review and let me know. Your words, suggestions are just love and mean a lot. So, please, read and review and I will update faster.

Lots of love, Ritu.