Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural or any of its plots or characters.

March 3, 2005

Dean led his brother into the smoky bar and instantly tensed at the new atmosphere. Although this was the kind of bar Dean usually felt at home in- with it's dim lighting, pool tables, over revealing women and biker guys who were so easily swindled out of their money- there was something a little more threatening in this bar's aura. Something that would usually make Dean walk right back out with his brother in tow.

But not today; this is where both of their case's victims (Howard Burges and Jerome Levi) had supposedly been the night of their disappearance, so this is where they'd stay until they got the information they needed.

The case was still wide open, but judging by the bodies of the victims and by the fact that both had their hearts missing, it was beginning to look like a werewolf. This caused Dean to worry all the more about their current situation because anyone they ran into could be their puppy and they wouldn't even know it. The thought that they could easily become the huntees and not the hunters if they pissed off the wrong person tonight, was on Dean's mind as he approached the bar, giving Adam a meaningful look before he did so, clearly telling him to keep his mouth shut and not to draw attention.

Leaning forward against the bar, Dean waved the bartender over, feeling Adam settling against the bar at his shoulder turned the opposite direction, keeping a look out. Just like Dean had taught him to.

The tender lumbered towards them, looking all the part of the shady bar owner with his balding, greased back black hair, calloused fingers, deep set eyes and judgmental frown.

Tossing the dishtowel he'd been in the process of using over his shoulder for safe keeping, the man finally spoke as he reached the two brothers.

"I can't serve the squirt," he said flatly as he came to a halt in front of Dean.

Dean felt the 14 year old tense at his side, clearly unimpressed at being labeled 'squirt' but knew better than to say anything and kept his mouth shut. The kid liked to fancy himself a tough guy these days and Dean had to smother a wicked grin at his brother's expense.

"Naw, I wasn't gonna ask you too; I wouldn't trust the kid to hold his liquor anyways," Dean said, giving the man an agitated shrug; hoping to make him think that he'd really rather not have the tag-along in the first place.

The bartender gave a nod of acknowledgment.

"So what can I get for you?" He asked gruffly.

"Just a beer would be great." Dean responded, sliding into a bar stool.

When the man turned to fill his order, Dean chanced a glance at Adam only to find a deep frown on his brother's face. He wasn't exactly sure what it was there for; the kid couldn't be that upset about the 'squirt' comment.

Feeling his brother's eyes on him Adam turned his head to meet his gaze. There, Dean saw an uneasy confusion with a small undertone of concern but it was enough to make Dean instantly apprehensive and squint around the murky bar.

Dean only had a moment to search the surroundings; barely enough time to assess anything before the thunk of his beer hitting the counter in front of him forced him to pull his eyes back to the matter at hand.

"'M Jeremy by the way." He fabricated professionally, pulling the bottle towards himself.

"Henry." The man replied, pulling out a glass from beneath the counter and beginning the task of shining it with the dish cloth he'd earlier stowed.

Dean paused long enough to reckon how he should go about pulling answers from this unusually muted bartender.

"You know, I got a buddy who went missing from round here not to long ago…"

Dean didn't know how things had unraveled as fast as they did, but as soon as he'd started questioning about the victims, the entire bar seemed to have gone tense.

Currently, Dean was doing all he could to shield his little brother from view as he made a quick paced break for the door after he said a quick and hopefully unsuspicious goodbye to Henry. He herded Adam ahead of him, trying to act oblivious to the menacing gazes, however they didn't make it far as a man close to the exit stood up from his seat and casually leaned against the frame, staring Dean down.

Dean stopped and glanced around at the bar which seemed to have become a living thing as about a dozen guys got up and closed in from all ends of the slum.

"Ya know, we really didn't like them two kids round here." Dean whipped around to face the voice, only to find a very large grey haired biker guy, goatee and leather jacket in tow, leaning back against a bar table in a familiarly careful way that set Dean even more on edge.

"Dunno what you're talking about, buddy," Dean said, wishing Adam was either a lot younger so he could hide him easier or a lot older so Dean wouldn't have to worry if the midget had any chance of holding his own in the fight that Dean was now thoroughly expecting.

The guy puckered his lips in thought, "See, I think you do."

"Nasty gambling habits them two guys had," another thug continued casually, "Couldn't pay up lately."

"Nope, eventually had to go collect," biker guy number one finished casually, as if talking about something only slightly distasteful.

Adam, clearly confused by the underlying meanings spoke out, "Well you can't really collect when the guys are broke, can you?"

Dean discreetly stepped on his brother's foot. Hard.

A harsh looking man to their right showed off a wicked grin.

"It's not dollars we made them pay in, kid?"

A dangerously gleeful man at his shoulder laughed, "Yep, Sometimes we end up taking whatever's most valuable to them."

The first man to speak to Dean picked up, "Sometimes that's their hearts… sometimes it's a family member…" His eyes trailed to Adam and Dean instantly doubled his defensive posture but this just made the guy grin wider, "Neither are of much worth to us though. We prefer to get paid in cash; don't like getting our hands too dirty." He paused, giving Dean an evaluating gaze, "Since Howie was such a great buddy o' yours, I'm sure you wouldn't mind paying up for 'im, eh?"

"Sorry, man, I'm just as broke as he was." Dean said, wondering how he could get them out of this. He wasn't sure if these guys were all talk or if they really were the monsters they were making themselves out to be. What he did know was that he and his brother were far too exposed for his liking.

"Crying shame that is."

And the next moment Dean had four guys on him, pulling him away from Adam; not that Dean was going that easily, delivering elbows and punches and anything else he could manage as he tried to get free.

"Get the hell off me!"

Dean deftly heard Adam calling out behind him and swiveled his head to see his brother being held off the ground with a pair of large arms wrapped around his middle, but the guy holding him was clearly having some trouble as the kid kicked out at any person who tried to offer assistance in handling him and scratched long gashes in his assailant's arms.

"Dean!"

"You hurt him and I'll kill you! Leave him the fuck alone!" He yelled in his brother's direction as he grabbed a guy who lunged at him and swung him into another.

A skinny guy (scrawny compared to the rest of them) walked calmly out of the wings with a switch blade in hand and came to a halt at the guy who was holding Adam's shoulder and held out his arm to hold the knife to the kid's collarbone.

Both Dean and Adam instantly went still.

"Calm down or I slit his throat."

Dean swallowed and slowly held up his hands, looking the guy straight in the eyes.

"I'm calm, man. Don't hurt him."

This only served to make the guy grin maliciously. He spoke to Adam but didn't break eye contact with Dean.

"So who is this guy to you kid? Couldn't be your daddy, he'd have been what, ten when you were born? A big brother maybe?"

"I was twelve, but thanks for the compliment," Dean said bitterly, glaring.

The guy just continued grinning as he ran the dull edge of his blade across Adam's neck, making Dean's stomach clench painfully at the vulnerability of it. Just how did something as straight forward as asking some questions get this screwed up? They were professionals; this kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen.

"So, I'm wondering if you're as broke as you said you were five minutes ago." The knife wielder said, looking at Dean with shadowed eyes, "Just how much is your brother's life worth to you?"

Dean glanced at Adam to offer some reassurance before he said his next words. The kid was doing a poor job of hiding just how terrified he was, Dean wasn't sure if it was for his sake or so not to give the guys around them the satisfaction of seeing it.

"Listen, man, I just don't want my mom to go off on me about how I got my brother killed in a bar fight or something. He's really not that big a deal to me, but if it makes you feel any better-" Dean reached for his pocket but was stopped by a firm hand from his right. Dean looked up to meet the eyes of the guy there, "Dude, I'm just reaching for my wallet."

The thug looked around at the others for permission to let him reach before letting go.

Dean pulled out his wallet and turned it out on a table to the left of him.

"There. Twenty-two dollars and a bunch of nickels and dimes. That's all I got, man, you can have it."

That finally whipped the grin off the sadistic, knife wielding bastard's face as he stared down at the contents of the table. After a moment he raised his eyes to glare at Dean, a sneer pulling at his upper lip before pulling the knife away and turning to the guy who'd seized Adam.

Dean let out a breath at having the knife off his brother's throat.

"Set him over there." Dean tensed again as the guy turned and set Adam down in a chair behind him, where his brother didn't dare move, with several large men standing over him.

The skinny guy looked over his shoulder to lock eyes with Dean, his expression dead and uncaring and Dean knew what was going to happen a moment before the guy swung around and landed a hard punch across his brother's face.

Dean heard himself cry out unintelligibly as he watched another guy land a punch in Adam's gut causing the kid to double forward. Dean angrily lunged forward to save his brother but he was quickly knocked back as a fist collided with his own face with a hell of a lot of weight behind it.

Dean barely took a second to shake the dizziness from his head before he picked himself up and started to fight his way towards his brother; doing his best not to loose sight of him at anytime, but it seemed every guy he brought down was simply replaced by another. He felt like he was in one of those dreams where you're doing something as fast as you can but you just don't seem to make any progress.

Dean had to hand it to Adam, he wasn't making a sound as the fists and kicks hit him; Dean figured the pain he was feeling had to be enough for the both of them. He was doing all he could to get to his brother who was on the floor getting the shit beat out of him but he just kept getting pushed farther away; if that wasn't painful he didn't know what was.

The skinny guy (that Dean was beginning to suspect to be the ring leader) finally called off the men after a good five minutes, causing Dean to almost collapse in relief.

He watched as Adam rolled onto his back, breathing unevenly and the guy knelt down next to him and cocked his head to the side, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"You're a tough kid; I'm impressed, really. Too bad you don't have a brother who cares enough about you to be proud of that." The guy lifted his head to look at Dean once again and his smile only widened when he saw the undisguised pleading in his eyes; pleading for his brother's life. "Or maybe you do."

And then he got to his feet and turned to his nearest thug.

"Get them out of here."

Dean could have cried.

"If I see either of you again or if you breathe a word of any of this, you're both dead." He finished before turning and making his way to the bar with an indifferent stride.

Dean suddenly found himself being hauled towards the exit and tossed out the door, just managing to keep his footing despite his injuries. But turning to face the bar, he was forced to catch his brother as he almost tumbled face first into the pavement. Dean only paused long enough to make sure the kid was breathing before hauling him over his shoulder and making a break for his car; not fond of the idea of sticking around for another drink.

Dean went straight to the driver's side and ducked his brother in, sliding him only half way across the seat before heading in after him. Adam's lack of movement was beginning to worry him.

As he pulled them out onto the road, Dean wrapped an arm around his baby brother's chest who was already practically in his lap. Dean didn't care in the slightest about his no chick-flick policy at that moment, he just needed some reassurance that his brother was right there next to him and alive.

His throat constricted when he felt a single sob wrack through his baby brother, causing Dean to only hold on tighter and mutter calming gibberish to the kid like 'You're safe', 'You're fine" and 'I got you'.

Their motel was luckily (or unluckily, depending what your main focus was) only about two blocks from the bar and Dean was soon pulling in.

After assuring Adam he'd be right back, he disentangled himself from his brother, retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk and returned back to the front to help his brother into their motel room.

"Can you walk?" He asked, worriedly, leaning into the car.

Adam opened his mouth to speak but closed it after a moment and shrugged; either not actually sure if he could or too embarrassed to admit he couldn't.

"S'ok, kiddo." Dean said gently, giving the kid's hair a little brush through before taking him up in his arms again, with only a slight mumble of protest from the youngest and hauling them the short distance to their room.

After having some trouble with the door, Dean managed to get them inside and transfer Adam over to the nearest bed.

Dean took a step back and was suddenly struck by the insane fact that they'd actually just gotten out of that alive: Humans were often far more deadly than anything they hunted.

…………………………………………………

After doing all he could for Adam's one cracked, three broken ribs, broken wrist, dislocated shoulder and moderate concussion, among other less serious injuries and taking care of his own more artificial wounds, Dean sat watching his sleeping brother's chest rise and fall, slightly amazed that it could actually still do that.

Giving a tired sigh and rubbing at his forehead, Dean got up from his spot on the empty bed and carefully climbed over his brother to the side of the bed closest to the door and kicked off his shoes before getting under the blankets.

Dean gave an unamused snort when he realized that for once, when someone commented that they looked like they'd been in a bar fight, they could actually nod and agree and they wouldn't even be lying.

Adam would be grinning in a week, (when he stopped hurting quite so much) at the fact that he could go to school and tell all the girls about this- if not a slightly revised version- with all the bruises to prove it.

Dean huffed another exhausted sigh, head tilting to the side to look at his brother and frowned at the nasty bruises already turning color around a swelling eye and knew he, himself, really didn't look much better in that respect.

Dean snuck an arm under his brother's neck, to give himself and Adam some reassurance (despite however out of it the younger was) before falling into a shallow sleep, haunted with the feeling of utter helplessness that had engulfed him not three hours earlier.