So the site's being, oh what's a good word for it…tempermental. Anyway, I am replying to all the reviews- I'm not sure if you're getting the replies though- but I'm sure you will eventually. In the meantime, just know that I appreciate all your reviews so much, they really do make my day. So, thank you.

JRAismine: Thanks for the compliments, I'm glad you're enjoying the banter and Sam's invisibility.

There's a lot in this chapter and about half of it was written outside of writer's block- so hopefully it'll be interesting…Sam's goin' on a Feeder hunt...

Chapter 11: Hunting

Three hours later, Dean knocked on the motel door and then waited 10 seconds before walking in. As he entered, he saw Sam lying on the bed rubbing his eyes and clearly waking up. Sam spoke as Dean entered the room, "Ghosts, werewolves, vampires, spirits, demons…you run towards them, guns blazing- but throw in some tears and you turn tail for high ground."

Dean rolled his eyes, "You okay now?"

Sam, still smirking, nodded, "Yeah. You can relax…the scary tears are gone."

"You're pushing it Sam." Sam laughed and Dean made his way back to the door, "Seriously…you alright?"

Sam shrugged and pushed himself up against the headboard, "I was dizzy, but it was okay. I slept it off." He held up the chrism vial, "The tears of despair are ready to go."

Dean nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer, "I'll get the reloading press and mould from the car."

Sam nodded, "Could you get the silver and iron pot also?"

Dean gave his brother an obvious look and Sam smiled, embarrassed, "Just checking."

Dean rolled his eyes, "You want to tell me to bring in the brass rounds and the torch too? I know what I'm doing Sam." Sam blushed and Dean, annoyed that he had been questioned, left to bring the bullet forging equipment in from the car.

A half hour later, Dean and Sam worked together, forging bullets from silver, iron, and tears of despair. In the end, there had been enough tears to forge 5 bullets. Sam bit his lip as he placed the last bullet into the speed loader. He looked at his brother, "I guess I'll have to do some more wallowing…"

Dean looked over, confused, "What for? You only need two bullets. One for the hallucination and one for the Feeder. You've got five. How many shots you planning to miss?"

Sam shook his head, "We should each have at least five. What if it attacks you? You'll have no way to shoot the hallucination."

Dean waved his brother off and began packing up the equipment. "First of all, it clearly has a fondness for your whiny ass." He looked over at Sam, "Let's face it Sam, no one does anguish quite as good as you." Sam glared, but said nothing.

Smirking, Dean resumed his clean up of the reloading equipment, "Second, we don't even know if tears of despair is the missing ingredient. You just made that up. No point in wasting more silver or iron if the bullets aren't gonna kill it."

Sam hobbled his way back over to the bed, "You think they won't work?"

Dean shrugged as he carried the equipment back out to the car, "I have no idea Sam. It sounds good, but who the hell knows." He turned to look at his brother, "What I think is that there should be an escape plan in case it all goes to hell…again."

Sam sat on his bed, thinking, as his brother returned all the equipment to the car. He had been so focused on crying and then forging the bullets that he hadn't considered that the bullets might not work. But apparently Dean had been thinking it. Sam sighed. He had really screwed up this hunt. First he almost gotten himself killed, then he had almost gotten Dean killed, and now they were going in for a third try with five bullets (not nearly enough) that might not even work.

Dean was right, he was a prime victim for despair. Hell, he had practically handed himself over to the thing both times so far. He went after a Feeder and let himself get emotional during the hunt. It was a rookie mistake and he should have known better. Dean would never have made that mistake. Sam gave a humorless laugh, if the hunt had been Dean's, it would have been finished by now. In fact, Dean's hunt was finished by now and that was despite the fact that he had been stabbed.

Dean re-entered the room and Sam shook himself out of his thoughts. Dean walked up to him, "Hey." Sam looked up and Dean spoke again, "I'm gonna get some grub. Any requests?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Take me with you?"

Dean stepped back surprised and Sam explained, "I've been cooped up here with my own thoughts all day. I just need to get out."

Dean nodded although Sam had interfered with his intentions. He had expected Sam to come up with the escape plan while he brought them back some food, but apparently Sam had other ideas. It was a good idea though. Sam had been incapacitated for a while now and if he was going to go up against the Feeder again, alone, he would need to get used to moving again.

Dean shook his brother's leg, "Well get up then. We'll go to the diner on the other side of the river. Food's great there. Almost as good as that diner in Emmett."

Sam raised his eyebrows as he stood up, "Wow. I didn't think anything would ever match the diner in Emmett."

Dean handed his brother his crutches, "I said almost as good." Dean stared off into space, a fond look in his eye, "That diner in Emmett…" He shook his head and turned to Sam, "We should head over that way after this. That food's worth it."

Sam shook his head and followed his brother out to the car. Emmett, Idaho had been eight years ago. Sam had no idea why Dean had dubbed that diner the best in America. The food had been good, but it didn't seem all that different than any other diner food. Sam shook his head as he got into the car. The Emmett diner had become the standard of excellence to which Dean compared all other food and Sam didn't have the heart to tell his brother that the Emmett diner had long been shut down.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

6:30 the next evening, the brothers sat in the motel room, going over the plan. Both were feeling considerably better. Dean's shoulder was less painful, along with Sam's ankle and Sam was now able to consistently move around without becoming dizzy or passing out. The sun was beginning to set and it wouldn't be long before the construction site would be empty for the evening.

Sam spoke while checking his weapons on his bed, "Ok, so we go in, I'll start thinking about Jess or dad or whatever, and I'm guessing it shouldn't take too long before the Feeder attacks."

Dean nodded in agreement with the plan, "Right. Then you shoot the hallucination and the leech will appear. It'll probably be on you, so be prepared to have to shoot with your hand facing either backwards or to the side."

Sam modeled the movement with his hand before nodding, "Yeah. Ok." He looked up at his brother, "Hopefully, the Feeder'll explode…if not…I'll pull out the other gun with the fear Feeder bullets and that should hurt it enough to give us enough time to get the hell out of there." He looked up hopefully at his brother for reassurance.

Dean smiled, "It's as good a plan as any other."

Sam finished checking his weapons and then stood up, collecting his crutches. He looked over at Dean, "You ready to go?"

Dean nodded and walked with Sam to the door. Sam exited first and Dean called after him. Sam turned, "What?"

Dean shrugged, "I just wanted to wish you luck and tell you to be careful."

Sam stared at his brother confused, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Dean looked as though the answer was obvious, "It's your hunt Sam. You need to finish it alone."

Sam stared at Dean in shock. The thought of facing the Feeder for the third time…and doing it alone, scared the crap out of him. He shook his head at his brother, "I can't Dean. This thing's already beat me…twice."

Dean pointed a finger at his brother's chest, "That's exactly why you need to do this on your own. Everybody looses a battle every now and then. I have. I mean look at what happened with the poltergeist. Hell, even dad lost his share of battles. But afterwards, you pick yourself up and you keep going back until you end the evil son of a bitch."

Sam shook his head again, "Yeah Dean, but I can't do it by myself."

Dean looked his brother directly in the eyes, "You can Sam."

Sam went to disagree again but stopped when Dean put his hand on his shoulder, "Sam, you know me, dude. You think I would EVER let you go off on your own if I had even one slight doubt that you couldn't take care of this? You think I would ever risk you like that? Come on man, you know me."

Sam stared at his brother with a loss for words. He did know Dean, and Dean was right- there was no way Dean would ever take that risk…not unless he was sure that Sam could handle the Feeder on his own. Sam considered this…Dean truly believed that Sam could handle the Feeder on his own…despite everything that had happened? The part of Sam that idolized Dean, trusted Dean, believed Dean to be infallible spurred to life. It fed off of Dean's words and Sam felt his confidence growing. Dean believed he could do this on his own and suddenly- so did Sam.

Dean's hand squeezed his shoulder, "You got this one Sammy. You don't need me to finish it." Dean turned his brother around and pushed him towards the car, "Now go kill that ugly sucker. I'll be here."

Sam turned back towards Dean, "You're not going to randomly show up? Dean, I really don't want to shoot you again."

Dean rolled his eyes and smirked, "You know Sam, I got other things to do than take care of your ass."

Sam raised his eyebrows in challenge. Dean smirked and pointed at the TV, "They got the world's best dog tricks on Letterman tonight."

Sam laughed and Dean nodded towards the car, "Get going. I'll see you when you get back."

Sam turned towards the car and waved at Dean behind his back, "Have fun with the dogs."

Dean shot back, "Have fun with the leech."

"Dick."

"One of the longest and the best Sammy."

Sam closed his eyes and shuddered, he had hadn't needed that image. Shaking his head at his brother's crudeness, he got into the car. He had a Feeder to kill.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam sighed as he found himself…for the third time now…sitting inside the foundation of the construction site. However, this time, he was considerably more prepared. This time he had a cell phone, a plan, bullets that would hopefully work, and most importantly a gun. He shook his head as he remembered three nights ago when he had arrived without a weapon. He was grateful that Dean hadn't seemed to notice that fact.

Sam looked down at the gun in his hands willing himself to feel despair. He almost laughed. Every day for the past year and a half he had felt despair; maybe not in such large amounts as recently, but at least a little everyday. And now here he sat, purposefully trying to despair, to use himself as bait, and he was having a hard time.

It was Dean's fault really. Sam smiled. Dean's little pep talk had pepped him up too much. He was 23 years old, but his brother's opinions meant a lot to him…apparently. And they meant even more than Sam would have ever thought. Dean's confidence in him had given him a huge high. So much so that the despair he needed was almost unobtainable. Almost…

Sam concentrated on Jess. He remembered the hallucination- hearing her voice, accusing him. It was true, Jess was innocent. Just a girl from a small town that had gotten excited when she was accepted into Stanford…and had gotten even more excited when Sam asked her out. She never asked to be involved with demons and the supernatural…never even knew that she was involved with demons and the supernatural. Sam wondered for the millionth time what her last moments were like. What had the demon said to her? Did she know how much Sam had lied to her? Had she died angry with him? And only moments before she had baked the cookies and written a love note.

Sam gasped as he felt the hollow hole in his chest reopen. Tears filled his eyes and he remembered how great he had had it and how it would never be that way again. The despair was back and Sam shifted, waiting for the hallucination to arrive. So far though…things were quiet. Sam continued his wallowing, remembering how much he had loved Jessica and imagining how horrible her last moments were. But as time went by, Sam began to despair less and wonder more…the Feeder still hadn't appeared.

After a half hour, Sam gave up on despairing and instead began to consider explanations as to why the Feeder was not appearing. His initial thought was that perhaps they had killed the Feeder the other night. Examining this, Sam thought back to that night. His memory was fuzzy and scattered. He remembered shooting Dean, Dean kicking him, shooting the hallucination, hearing Jess' voice, and then just Dean surrounding him. That thought stopped Sam for a moment as he had the distinct feeling that Dean had hugged him or held him…either way, more contact than Dean usually allowed for. Sam had no idea if that part was real or imagined and even more frustrating was the realization that he had no memory of Dean shooting the Feeder. He only knew what Dean had said, which was that he had shot the Feeder, but it hadn't died. Sam stopped his thoughts again…if Dean said that the Feeder hadn't died, then the Feeder hadn't died.

So that bared the question, why wasn't it attacking. There were only two possible explanations that Sam could think of or the lack of attack: either the Feeder was holding off for some reason, or it wasn't there anymore. Sam hit his head back against the wall of the foundation; if only the damn thing wasn't invisible. Sam froze…what if there was a way to make it visible?

Feeders were transparent and intangible, but they still left marks behind. That's how Sam knew the Feeder was there in the first place. The Feeder had left it's Latin mark behind and Sam had picked it up under the blacklight. Therefore, it was possible that Sam would be able to use the blacklight again, to see the Feeder, or at the very least, gain more information about the Feeder's whereabouts. With that thought in mind, Sam made his way out of the foundation and back to the car.

Five minutes later, he returned, blacklight in hand. Switching the light on, Sam used the light to scan the foundation floor. Immediately he found the two messages of victito despero that he had found on his first visit to the foundation. Scanning more of the area, Sam found a new marking of the phrase in the spot where his hallucination of Dean's death had occurred. Finally, traveling further along the foundation floor, Sam found what he was looking for…

It was a trail, illuminated in the blacklight, and invisible to the naked eye. The trail began where Sam had sat two nights ago, after he had shot Dean. Sam crouched down to examine the iridescent marks. It was the creature's blood…or at least that's what it appeared to be. Dean's shot hadn't killed the creature, but it had been enough to wound it. Sam stood up and using the blacklight, began to follow the irregular path that the creature had left.

As he tracked the path out of the foundation and along the construction site, Sam found himself beginning to smile. This was hunting. He wasn't sitting as bait, waiting for something to attack. Now he was actually hunting the creature down. It felt good.

Sam stopped as he reached what appeared to be the end of the Feeder's trail and looked around. He was standing in a grass field along the side of the construction site. The iridescent smears led to this point and then disappeared. He shook his head confused, where could the Feeder have gone?

Looking for an explanation, Sam crouched closer to the ground. And that's when he saw them…tire marks in the grass. A vehicle had been parked there and then driven away. Sam put his head in his hands. The Feeder had entered someone's car, and it could have been anybody's. At least twenty construction worker's parked in the site every day.

Sam considered his options. He could get a list of the construction workers and then blacklight all their cars, looking for the iridescent smears. He could hide out on the site and then blacklight the cars tomorrow morning. Or, he could wait until someone died. Sam shook his head, none of the alternatives were appealing. All three required waiting and the longer he waited, the more time the Feeder would have to regroup and attack. As it was, it had already been two days since the Feeder had last attacked. Sam didn't want to wait any longer.

As he pondered what his best option was, Sam noticed a dark spot on the ground, several feet away from him. Sam leaned in to take a closer look. The grass had been stained a dark red in the area- almost black. Sam examined the stain more closely…it was blood. The meaning of that discovery frightened Sam onto his ass. There was only one person at this construction site within the last few days that had bled enough to leave that stain.

Sam pulled his cell phone from his pocket. If the Feeder had hitched a ride in the Impala, it could be anywhere, at the hospital, at the motel, at the diner, anywhere. But anywhere was better than the scenario going through his mind at the moment. Quickly he pushed his first speed dial.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up…" The phone continued to ring.

Sam waited six rings, before hearing a voice on the other end, "Hey. You've reached Dean Winchester. Leave a message, I'll call you back."

Sam could barely keep the panic out of his voice as he spoke. Dean should have picked up. Dean would have been sitting on his phone. He may have sounded fully confident that Sam could handle the hunt alone, but Sam knew his brother. After everything that had happened with the Feeder, Dean would have been staring at his cell, ready to move at the drop of a hat if Sam called. For Dean to not answer the phone… "Hey Dean. Uh…I need you to call me back as soon as you get this. The Feeder's gone. I think it hitched a ride with us to…somewhere. Be careful okay. Don't trust anything you see. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Sam wasted no time. Shoving the phone back in his pocket and ignoring his crutches and broken ankle, Sam took off full speed for the car. A quick once over with the blacklight in the backseat gave Sam all the confirmation he needed. The Feeder's blood was smeared along the seat; the Feeder had been there. Desperate to get to his brother, Sam threw the car into drive and slammed down on the accelerator. The wheels spun leaving a layer of rubber on the asphalt. Finally, the car caught on and shot forward. Sam kept the pedal flat on the floor. He had to get back to the motel…now.

Uh oh...what's gonna happen??? Review!!! Please?