"You got everything?"

"Yes"

"You got the torches?"

"Yes"

"Don't forget the torches!"

"I've got them."

"Good. Right, you got everything?"

"Yes!"

"You got enough salt shells?"

"Yes!" through gritted teeth.

"You got the torches?"

"Yes. Give it a rest why don't you. I've got them."

"Okay then. Let's go," and Dean moved off towards the trees.

It was an hour later, spent tramping through the woods, looking for the small clearing containing the overgrown shack. They had decided it was the most likely place to be where the victims had been taken and with no other idea as to where Glummer was buried, they hoped that the sister and brother would once more make their presence known and that they knew where the remains were.

"It's got to be around here somewhere." Sam was getting exasperated.

"It would help if your friendly spirits turned up and showed us the way again," Dean replied equally pissed off.

"Maybe if you hadn't threatened her with a gun she would have."

"Unbelievable."

"What is?"

"You are."

"Why?"

"I was in the middle of saving your ass yet again."

"Oh. I'm so sorry! Next time you run off into something half cocked, I'll stay out of the way and just leave you to it shall I?"

"Oh stop with the Prima Donna act." A piercing scream coming from the left stilled them in their tracks and they raised the salt guns. "See? Even she's had enough of your bitchin'."

"Funny!"

The girl stood in their path, the boy behind her. She looked accusingly at them. They looked at each other. "What?" Dean asked her. She turned on her heel and walked off deeper into the woods in a completely different direction to the one they had been heading in. They looked at each other once more and turned to follow, their bickering forgotten. =====

They were outside the shack again. It looked even smaller in the daylight. "I don't get it," Sam stated and dropped the bag at the base of the tree next to him.

"What's not to get? We go in. See if the bastards in there and set it alight." Some things in Dean's world were simple.

"But they never found any of the victims and surely with all the searches they would have found this place." Sam reasoned.

Dean looked at him. He did have a point. "Still. We go in and take a look. They brought us here again and it's where you threw yourself at that axe."

"You're just so funny today. I hurt from the laughter!" and Sam moved off to pull at the ivy trying to find a door, a window or any other way in.

Dean scanned the area. The two 'teenagers' had disappeared again and he didn't like it. He did not think that they saw their job as done. It was far too quiet. "You see anything?" as Sam was shading his eyes, trying to see through a very grimy window.

"No. Pass me a torch."

"Thought you said you had them?"

Still looking for a way in, "Yeah. They're in the bag."

"Where's the bag?" Dean asked scanning around but not seeing it.

"Over there by the tree," sounding exasperated, Sam pointed vaguely without turning. "I think I see a way in," and he turned the corner, gun raised.

"Which tree?" Dean called after him. He could not see it. "Sam?" he could not see him either. "Damn it, Sam? Answer me!" he looked around frantically but there was nothing. He edged up to the shack, peering around the corner where his brother had gone. "Sammy?" There was a gap in the ivy and he headed for it gun at the ready.

"Whoa," as Sam emerged to face the barrel end of the sawn off.

"Damn it!" easing up on the trigger.

"Give me a torch." Holding out a hand, Sam decided to ignore the fact he'd just nearly got a face full of rock salt.

"I couldn't find the bag."

"What?" and moving around Dean, giving him a look telling him what he thought of that, he marched off to retrieve it calling, "It's right here…. Shit. Where'd it go?"

"Damn. I was afraid of that." And Dean began to scan the surrounding area in earnest, gun raised.

The boy was there stood directly in front of Sam, staring at him. He looked so scared and pointed shyly behind him. Sam swung around, gun raised and the huge figure of Glummer, looking royally pissed off, towered over him then pulverised as he shot him full of rock salt.

A scream and the girl ran past Dean and he hit yet another tree. He was getting really fucked off with this. He brought the gun up, still lying there and blasted the figure again as he closed in on Sam. One thing was obvious, he had thought it before but decided not to say anything, Glummer wanted Sam. And he did not think it was just because they were hunting him.

Dean struggled to his feet, watching all the while and Sam did the same. "What say you we just set fire to the shack?"

"There was nothing in there."

"So why'd you want the torch?" just really filling time as they waited. He would be back. The boy was still staring at Sam.

"I wanted to check the floor. There might be a cellar or something."

Dean was thinking, "Sammy. Try and talk to the boy."

"Why me?" looking askance at him.

"I think he's taken to you." It was just a statement, no jollity in his voice. "He's done nothing but stare at you. And he always comes to you."

Dean continued to watch as Sam approached the spectre of the young boy who looked at his brother with eyes far too big in the sunken face. There was a whisper close to his ear, "He's coming back for him," and he turned to look at the girl trying not to show his revulsion for her ravaged face so close to his. So he was right. Glummer wanted Sam and he was just in the way. Nothing new there then. As she stayed still, he tried, "Tell me where he's buried."

She just looked at him, head to one side. He guessed she didn't know. These were the last two to be taken while Glummer was alive and if he had been murdered, chances are that's why these two had never been found. He had an awful image of the two together, holding each other, scared and helpless as they remained trapped, slowly starving to death. They needed to be found too. Surely she knew where she was? "Tell me where he…"

A gun blast and his attention was drawn back to Sam who wasn't there. Just the gun. On the ground. No Sam. The girl screamed. The boy wailed. But neither was as loud as Dean screaming for Sam. He ran around franticly searching but he was not there. How the hell had this happened? How the hell had he managed to lose him? He continued to call out, the boy continued to wail and the girl just stood there. "Where did they go? Where did he take Sam?" he demanded of her. =====

It was dark and he was cold. That was about as much as he knew. And his head hurt, again. Sam opened his eyes and this time managed to keep them that way. There was light but it was weak coming from somewhere behind him. He twisted to try to see where and started to panic. He was hanging by his wrists. He became aware of his weight pulling on them and stood taking some of the pressure off his stretched arms but with his feet barely touching the ground he was on tiptoes. And cold.

He gave up pulling at the shackles, it was just making his wrists hurt more and they were not coming out of the moorings. Taking deep breaths, he told himself to calm down. Slowly he began to look around him and listened intently. He was alone. Well, he qualified, he was the only one moving, breathing, but however the spirit of Glummer had managed to get enough energy to be so corporeal, he had left him alone. Maybe he needed to recharge or something. He just prayed it would take him longer than it would for either him to escape or Dean to find him.

Damn! He needed rescuing again! He was getting really bored with it. He was supposed to be this big leader for hoards of demons and yet he could not stop himself from constantly needing his big brother to come and save his ass. He pulled at the shackles again causing nothing to happen other than for him to swing around.

He suddenly realised where he was. Maybe not geographically, but he was in a dungeon. And not the medieval kind. This was a 'pleasure' dungeon. And there were bodies and they were all sat 'staring' at him.

There were both male and female ranging from skeletal husks to ones that had walked and talked up until a year or two ago. They were already drying out. It was arid in here but cold. He had begun to shiver and realised why as he saw his jacket and shirts, ripped and torn, lying on the stained mattress of the bed over by the wall opposite him as he came to rest. It was filthy, covered in stains he did not want to think about but the predominant colour was that of old blood.

A foot caught his eye and he could have wept for the pathetic image of the girl in the flowery dress and the bobby socks and sandals. Her brother had been propped up against her. Fifty years had taken its toll yet her hair still held its colour and he knew unmistakably it was them. "Please, Alice" he begged, "tell my brother where I am." =====

"Where is he?" he advanced on the boy, spirit Dean reminded himself as the figure backed up then disappeared. Swearing, he swung around and tried the girl standing there with the boy now hiding behind her. "Please help me. And then I can help you. You need to tell me where he's taken Sam."

She said nothing but turned to look at the shack. "There's nothing there!" through clenched teeth. But she disagreed and pointed to the thing again and slowly walked away dragging the boy along by the hand. She must have been doing that for over fifty years he realised. That's what he had to work on, her caring for her brother, just like him.

"No. Please don't leave," burying his anger and fright, "Help me find my little brother."

She turned and gave him what he could only think of as an 'I'm not falling for that' expression although with what had happened to her face it could have been anything. "Please," he asked simply. She stayed and just waited.

He began to lose patience again. Sammy needed him and he did not want to know what could be happening to him while he failed to find him. He should not have let him be taken in the first place. He had taken his eyes and his attention off him for a moment and he was gone. He had let him down again. He had to find him.

She cocked her head at him and pointed to the shack once more so he took the 'hint' and moved towards it, pulling off the clinging greenery and, not being able to see through the filthy glass, shattered it with the butt of his gun. He moved to the opening and entering, carefully inspected the place. There was nothing although he had grown to expect it. It would not be that easy. It never was.

He half expected Ruby to suddenly pop up and tell him what an asshole he was and then instruct him in what to do but while he waited for that, he berated himself. He kicked out in frustration at the nearest wall and the whole thing nearly came down on his head but he saw something in the corner and pounced on it in relief. Wherever the bastard had taken Sam, he had made the mistake of leaving their bag to be found. He drew out one of the heavy torches and lit up the place. He searched every inch of the small space finding nothing. No hidden doors or passages.

In frustration more than by design, he began to pull up the floor boards but still no passage or flight of stairs, just dirt. He started to dig not knowing what else to do and found it was just a thin layer of soil over something concrete. Spreading his search he knew he had found something.

Hot and sweaty after half an hour, he had cleared the expanse of floor and inspected every square inch but there was still no entrance but Sam was down there. He knew it, but not how to get to him?

He went outside and looked daggers at the ghosts still stood hand in hand waiting. He started his search afresh. There had to be a way in. Ghosts might be able to go through walls but Sam was no ghost. He would have needed a door. =====

There was a shift in the air and Sam knew he was no longer alone. He was still the only one breathing though as the figure in the plaid shirt moved towards him and the dust was hardly disturbed. He was the only one that had done that recently. He twisted around and wished he had not.

Glummer appeared as he must have in life. He was big. Near as tall as Sam but twice as wide. His clothes were stained and Sam figured he had only ever had a passing relationship with soap and water. The hand that was being stretched out towards him had cracked dirty fingernails and Sam was suddenly very afraid in a way he had never had to be before. =====

Dean knew he was running out of time. That bastard could be doing anything to his brother but he could not afford to dwell on it. He had been searching in a spiral out from the shack and finally had found something. It was well hidden, a cellar like wooden door in the ground under dirt and bushes growing wild. He cleared it and before he went blundering in, retrieved the bag and made sure both guns were loaded and that he had fuel and a means to light it.

Then he was ready and with a final glance at his audience, he pulled up the door and using the torchlight to guide him, descended into who knew what.

It was not a long tunnel and he tried to be as quiet as possible until he came to a door through which he could hear Sam. He did not like that sound. He kicked the door open, raising the gun and although he knew he would see this scene in his nightmares, he had no time to take it all in as he discharged the guns repeatedly as the strength of the spirit Glummer kept him coming back again and again.

Finally there seamed to be a respite and Dean reloaded and surged into the room, his hand to Sam's face, pushing it up. "Hey buddy. You still with me?" and Sam's eyes flickered open to his relief. He looked around with horror at all the bodies, at the shackles holding Sam. He searched wildly but to no avail.

"There." A voice spoke and it was the girl standing in the doorway with her fearful brother peaking out from behind her. He moved at her bidding to a small cupboard on the wall, opening it finding more restraints but also a line of keys hanging from hooks. "Which one?" but he guessed she could not tell him. He picked the cleanest looking one hazarding that if there was dust it had not been used.

He reached up to undo the cuffs, talking all the time to Sam, telling him he would be alright, they would be out of here soon. He could not reach. He cast around desperately for something to stand on.

Noise and pain all at the same time.

The girl screaming, the boy crying and the sound of himself hitting the wall as the key flew from his hand. He landed hard and cursed in revulsion as the body under him splintered. "Son of a bitch!" he tried to stand.

The figure bore down on him and he could not reach either of the guns. He was grabbed by his jacket and with a roar of rage, the ghost flung him across the room to land sprawled on the bed, it sagged under his weight then collapsed completely. He saw the key and grabbed it as Glummer came again.

Suddenly the giant stumbled to the side and he saw Sam swing back barely conscious as if he had used the last of his strength to hold himself up by the chains and kick Glummer. Making the most of the diversion, Dean dived for the nearest gun and blasted the spirit with both barrels then scrambling to his feet, wrenched the small cupboard from the wall, finding the strength in his anger and desperation then used it to stand on and unlock the shackles, catching Sam as he fell.

He knew he had very little time. Easing his brother to the ground, he gritted his teeth against the pain as he tipped the bag up, grabbing the can of gasoline, then salt and spread both around the room. Done and grabbing up Sam, he dragged him from the room then turned and striking the small flare, threw it back into the 'pleasure' dungeon.

By the time he had struggled out of the ground with Sam at his side, the girl was stood with her arms wrapped about her brother, holding him close. Dean fell to hands and knees, Sam lying beside him. He was not sure if he was just imagining it but she seemed to smile at him just before she and her brother dissolved into flame.

He had to get Sam out of here. Glummer was still a threat. He had no idea where his remains were. He just prayed there were some to be found.

"Come on Sammy. Stay awake. Help me out here. Come on." And he dragged Sam to his feet. The shack needed burning too but for now the job was done because Sam was hurt. Again. And barely conscious. He dreaded what had happened to him in the time it had taken to find him. All he knew was it had broken his heart all over again to see him hanging there. But now he had to get him away from here and back to the motel so he could tend to him.

Once more he was dragging, half carrying Sam back out through the woods to the car but this time no one was screaming at or chasing then. Sam was clinging to him with what little strength he had, impeding more than helping. He was tempted just to sling him over his shoulder but as soon as he tired his own body screamed out at him so it was a long slow progress back.

Loading him inside the car, Dean ran around to the drivers side and had to sit Sam up again as he got in. The lad slummed against him so he put his arm around his shoulders and drove carefully back to the motel with his precious cargo. =====

tbc...