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Chapter Two

Dean pinned the two cops for about ten seconds before they threw him off. He figured ten seconds would be enough for Sam and his freakishly long legs.

Dean pulled himself upright, tried to go for a menacing wolf-like scowl, settled instead for irritated hamster.

"You know the trouble you're in boy? You got no right being in our town, no right fighting us, you're resisting arrest, and now you'll be punished."

"I'm glad you used those words."

"What's that boy?"

"Those words suit me better than 'squeal like a pig', which I'm also pretty sure you've used before."

Phil only smiled at Dean, causing all kinds of alarm bells to sound in the older Winchester's mind.

"Mike?"

"Yes boss?"

"Get the rope."

"Yes boss."

Dean stood to his full height, ignoring the thundering in his scull, and stared the man down, yet Phil didn't flinch, he just smiled, his eyes trained on Dean yet his head hung low. He knew he had the advantage, but he didn't know that Dean wouldn't be taken easily, he was going to go down kicking and screaming, eventually would win, get out into the desert, grab Sam and get the hell outta Dodge.

If the desert would just stop spinning for a few minutes.

"On your knees boy."

Mike stood in front of Dean, rope in hand, motioning for him to kneel.

"Nah, I'd rather stand."

Dean blamed the concussion for his not seeing the fist before it struck his face. Mike pulled him down to the ground and began to tie his arms behind him. Dean managed to free one arm and smacked Mike back across his nose, blood instantly flowing down across his lips. As he pulled back for another punch Phil stepped behind him and planted a firm boot into the small of Dean's back, causing him to scream in agony and meet the ground face first.

Sand, in his mouth, how'd that get there? Sam slowly moved his head, very slowly, every movement caused a wave of agony to flow across his skull before landing in a heap behind his eyes, daring him to hold his lunch. He'd fallen, that much he could deduce, when though? How long had he been lying unconscious on the desert floor? How was Dean? Was he alright? Was he following?

Squeezing his eyes closed Sam willed his mind to silence, taking time to monitor his breathing, focus on the intake of air, quiet the thoughts and control the pain. Or so he'd been told in a yoga class Jess had dragged him to. So far he'd only managed to breathe in. Moments passed before Sam felt calm enough to attempt to move again. This time the pain stayed at bay, watching him from afar like a lioness stalking gazelle, moving around the corners in the belief she was unseen, tracking every movement, every intention. Slowly standing, bent over at the waist, Sam began to rise to his full height. As his lunch rose from it's crouched position he doubled over again and retched until he was sure he'd lost at least four lunches and a dinner to the ground. His head swam again and he dropped back down to his hands and knees, body covered in sweat, shivering in the cold of the desert night. Well Jess, what did it say to do in this situation in Yoga class?

"I'm not going."

"Come on Sam, it'll be fun."

"Yeah, right, learning how to breathe in order to release more wind from your body."

"There's more to it than that."

"Really? Like what?"

"The stretches mean we can get into more positions."

Jess raised her eyes innocently as Sam's mouth dropped open, images bombarding his mind as he rushed to grab his coat and keys , standing by the door he called back to Jess, "You coming or what?"

Jess stared at the picture of Mumma and Pappa Winchester, two people she hadn't met, one she'd never meet, the other, rarely spoken of. She sighed again at the lack of information Sam chose to share about his family, his father rarely spoken of, his brother, when Sam felt like sharing, was always spoken about fondly, always with a tinge of sadness. Where were they? Why was he so ashamed? As she stared into the depths of the photograph Jess made a silent promise. She would stand by him, she would stay with him, she would open him up and drink his memories and ease his pain. Then she'd meet his family and bring them together once more.

"JESS!"

"Coming!" She laughed as she grabbed her bag. Men, always so easy to manipulate when it came to a woman's body.

With thoughts of Jess dancing behind his memory Sam again tried to stand, as unsteady as a newborn calf. He began to make his way back in the direction he was sure he left Dean. With a bruised and cut hand he wiped his still sore eyes and blinked into the blackness, clouds above hiding the precious light of the moon from the wayward son, yet still he carried on. He needed to find Dean, needed to find his brother, his family.

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I know it's short but i'm aiming to update again tomorrow, until then...keep them reviews coming! They are the fuel to the fire!