"WHERE IS HE?" John towered over Dean.

"John …" Pastor Jim stepped forward but John ignored him. He couldn't believe that Dean had let Sam go off on his own, that he'd…"WHY DID…." He couldn't finish the words. "I LEFT YOU IN CHARGE…"

"JOHN STOP IT." The Pastor's raised a placating hand as well as his voice. "It's not Dean's fault. I asked him to do a job for me and…"

Rage boiled inside John, hot and urgent as he turned on his friend. "So your job was more important than my son."

"No…that's not what I said."

"He's six years old Jim." A desperate hurt was building inside John a wild feeling of helplessness. He'd spent so long protecting, safeguarding his children and now it was all unravelling and he couldn't stop it. He'd been so afraid for so long and now is fears were coming true. Sam was missing.

Trying to keep the tremor from his voice, keep it even he crouched down in front of his eldest. "Dean when did you last see your brother?"

The boy hung his head refusing to look at his father. It was pure defiance in John's eyes and his frustration at his son's stubborn surliness made the fury flare again. Grabbing Dean, gripping his eldest tightly by the shoulders he shook the boy. He needed answers.

"DEAN…"

"JOHN THAT'S ENOUGH." Jim put his hands over John's on Dean's shoulders protectively. "Dean go ask Martha when she last saw Sam."

The boy squirmed and suddenly John's anger dissipated leaving only utter exhaustion and the crushing pain in his side. He released Dean and watched wearily as his ten-year-old scooted back into the Mission without a backward glance. Straightening, rubbing his face John took as deep breath a breath as he could and look up at the concerned kindly face of his mentor.

"Where is he Jim? It's not like him to go off…he knows not to…Something's happened."

"John we don't know that. He could be off playing somewhere…Come on in and sit down. You look like crap."

John shook his head. "I can't Jim not when Sam's out there. I gotta go look for him."

"I got people out looking." The Pastor reached out to John. "You've been driving for forty-eight hours straight, you're injured by the look of it, in pain and you need to stop and rest, you're not going to help Sam by collapsing with exhaustion."

"But what if he's in trouble."

"He's strong and intelligent and for a six year old kid amazingly resourceful."

"And that makes it better?"

Pastor Jim shook his head, "No but it makes it less likely he'll come to harm."

"No Jim I can't ...I have to ..." At that point John's knees gave way and he would have hit the deck if the Pastor hadn't caught him. There was no need for words Jim's face said everything, sighing and against every instinct raging inside him John leant heavily on his friend and allowed himself to be guided into the big house's warm kitchen.

Martha fussed insisting on not only giving John a large mug of strong black coffee but on making him a thick sandwich placing it on a plate in front of John with a 'You don't get up from this table till it's all eaten' look. John took a bite but it felt like ashes in his mouth.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that he and Bill had given up trying to sleep and started the journey back from Nelson. They had driven in convoy. John staring at the road ahead and the red taillights of Bill's truck as the darkness gave way to dawn.

Seven hours later John was on his own having watched Bill climb wearily from the car and into the arms of a waiting Ellen. It left an ache in his heart as he'd driven away leaving them to their reunion. Mary had loved him like that, had been waiting for him when he returned from work, hugged him, made him laugh over dinner and taken him to bed where he forgot the cares of day.

Sometimes when he tired of being strong and carrying on regardless he let himself remember Mary, her soft, silky warmth and always the screwed up feeling in his belly tightened, hardened reinforcing his resolve to find what killed her and destroyed his life.

Now all he was feeling was a cold trepidation. He'd arrived back after two days of non-stop driving already worried about his sons to find his youngest missing. Jim's reassurances that Sammy had only been gone an hour did nothing to assuage neither his anger nor his fear.

He knew he'd taken his feelings out on Dean but the boy's silence made him crazy. He'd drummed into his eldest that he was to look out for his brother that Sam was his responsibility. John couldn't do what he did if he had to split his attention from the Job. Sam was missing on Dean's watch and however John tried to view it and whatever Jim said his eldest had let him down, badly.

XXXXXXXX

Sam collapsed onto the grass rasping breath into his aching lungs. He'd run and run legs punching the hard ground each pounding step jarring his whole body but he didn't stop, couldn't stop, his fear driving him on beyond anything his Dad had made him do. Now he could go no further, his muscles had seized landing him wheezing on a small patch of grass between two driveways.

Rolling onto his back arms straight out as his chest heaved Sam stared up into the interlacing tree branches above. He had no idea where he was, the leafy tree-lined streets barely registering as he'd fled from the horror that was the man.

Gradually his rapid breathing abated and with shaky arms Sam pushed up fear still hammering his heart knowing that he didn't want to be caught and that he couldn't stay still for long. He scanned the area. Had the man followed him? Sam's urge to flight was still uppermost but he could see no one and although he kept alert like Dad taught him he slowly allowed his alarm to lessen and his tired limbs to relax

Swallowed hard he tried not to cry. Dean had told him that only babies cried but even though he tried he couldn't prevent the tears leaking and trailing down his overheated sweat soaked skin. His lip trembled Dad was gonna be so mad.

If he'd been in the centre of town there'd have been call boxes or even a store where he could have asked to use the phone. He knew the number of the Mission off by heart, Dad had made him repeat it nearly every hour everyday for a week and then had showed him and Dean how to put the money in and talk to the operator, 'cause it wasn't safe to use phones in peoples houses.' Dad'd then given them both a quarter to keep in their pants pocket.

Sam didn't have the quarter; that morning Pastor Jim had brought some new clothes, well new to Sam, into his room saying that they'd been left and that Sam might well make use of them. Sam'd delved into the pile with enthusiasm picking out a really cool Fraggles Rock Sprocket T-Shirt and a pair of jeans that didn't have holes in the knees. So pleased with his new acquisitions and desperate to show Dean Sam had discarded his old outfit with the quarter in the pocket without a second thought and rushed downstairs.

Sniffing Sam dragged the back of his hand across his face wiping away the moisture. More than anything, ever, he wanted to see Dean walking towards him sporting a cheesy grin and calling him a big girl for cutting and running. Dean wouldn't have run off scared, his big brother could fight anything he'd have slugged the stranger right on the nose and then kept on punching and punching and punching until the man was dead.

Reassured a little by this image Sam pulled up the hem of his T-shirt and rubbed his face. His nose was all blocked and his eyes felt itchy but he'd stopped hiccupping breath and the shaking in his legs had lessened. Checking around again Sam looked at the houses. He knew he needed to find the Mission but although he'd visited Pastor Jim many times Dad had never allowed him to go beyond the grounds, except to the park and that was always with Dean. He sniffed again nothing seemed familiar or looked even remotely like anywhere he'd seen before.

The enormity of his situation nearly brought back the tears. He was alone in a strange town, no money, no way to call his brother and even if he could he didn't know where to say he was. Pressing his lips together to stop the wobble Sam squinting up it must be a good hour or two since he'd gone outside with his cookie then it had early afternoon and now the sun was lower in the sky.

Sniffing several times Sam sat more miserable now than scared. Teachers at school said that you should find a cop if you were lost but Sam knew better. Dad had told him that the cops were bad news and would take him and Dean away if either of them got into trouble. Sam chewed on his lip till it hurt blinking back more tears. Everything seemed so big, the fences, the houses, the road and it would be getting dark soon. Rising to his feet Sam gave himself the pep talk Dean would have. 'Come on Sam, you can't be that far from the Mission, even you can't have run that fast or that far. You gotta get up and think it through.' He wished Dean were here for real.

Sam's legs trembled and he stood thinking twisting his fingers in his damp shirt trying to decide what to do. Dean and Pastor Jim had to have missed him by now. His throat constricted and he fought hard to stop more tears as he thought of how worried his brother had to be. Dean always looked out for him; at school and when Dad left them for days at a time and when Sam woke shouting and scared all to hell about the bad things Dad hunted. His big brother was always there.

Down the street to his left a man was working on his car but haunted by his encounter with the stranger and his Dad's ominous words Sam was too frightened to ask for help. Avoiding the busy figure he crossed the road walking in the opposite direction, glancing apprehensively behind him to see if the man had noticed but nobody shouted after him and he saw no one else as he hurried down the street.

Reaching the corner Sam stopped. The road running across the intersection was far busier than the one he had left with cars passing frequently in both directions. There were people too. A group of women chatting at the bottom of a driveway, kids playing on bikes and others doing the stuff that people did in houses.

His only chance to avoid awkward questions was to act confident and look like he knew where he was going but that was the trouble, Sam hesitated, he had no idea which way to go.

XXXXXXXX

"Any news?" John looked up as Jim entered the study. The Pastor insisted that John rest on the couch when the hunter had refused to go upstairs to one of the bedrooms. John had laid himself down but sleep was beyond him. His mind kept going over and over possibilities. Round and round winding in ever darkening circles ending with the image of a small body crumpled in a heap or worse.

The silence from his friend answered his question and wearily John swung his legs down and sat head in hands trying to rub the exhaustion from his face.

"We've covered the nearest streets and the park and now we're gonna spread out in a grid pattern." Jim sat on the chair dragging it round from the untidy desk. "What would he do John, where would he go if he found himself on his own?"

Shaking his head John rose pacing the threadbare carpet.

"Would he go to the cops?"

"NO. Not the cops he knows not to involve them."

"Then what John?"

Again the hunter shook his head he didn't know and it was beginning to dawn on him that he knew very little about his youngest son that he had no idea what Sam would do or think or anything. The person that would know was Dean.

"Where's Dean?"

"Upstairs in his room I think. He wanted to go out with one of the search parties but I convinced him he'd be better waiting here….John!"

John took the stairs two at a time and pushed open the door so hard that it banged loudly. "Dean?" His gaze swung around the room, it was empty. "DEAN!" Running back past the surprised Pastor panic rising into his throat John burst through the outside door. "DEAN!"

Several men turned but nowhere could John see his ten year old.

XXXXXXX

Dean felt guilty, guilty as hell. He'd brushed Sam off, said 'No' to taking his little brother to the park because Pastor Jim had asked him to wash his car and was gonna pay him real money to do it. Now Sammy was missing and it was all Dean's fault, Dad had said so and Dean totally believed him.

Dodging into a bush Dean watched as a small group of men paced up the drive and disappeared into the Mission. Sammy had been missing for two hours now and although Pastor Jim had said to stay in the house Dean knew that Sam in ordinary circumstances would never talk to strangers. Dad had drilled it into them often enough so it was unlikely that any of these volunteers were going to get close to his brother. No it was up to him to find Sam.

The noisy enjoyment of the park had not abated and Dean scanned the faces of the children as he hurried along its perimeter but none were Sam and he felt his spark of hope die. He'd had to check and he hadn't really expected his brother to be there but some small part of him had held onto the belief that it had all been a mistake and Sam would come running to him grinning widely. However Sam wasn't stupid and Dean knew deep down that there was no way his little brother would sneak off to the park and leave them all worrying for this long even if he had forgotten the time. No something had happened and Sammy had run off or…or… Dean didn't want to think about the 'or' he couldn't.

Doubling back past the park anxiety squeezing his heart Dean tried to reason what might have happened. It made sense that Sam had been watching the children on the swings and he might have pushed the limitation on the rule about not going outside the mission grounds by standing by the gatepost so he could see better. Dean's gaze raked over the post and then the fence beyond and he saw them, about half way along, small pieces of blue thread caught on the rough surface of the wood. Sammy had been wearing a new blue Fraggle T-shirt the one that Pastor Jim had given him. Dean felt a lurch Sammy had been leaning on the fence right there.

Pulling at the threads Dean rubbed them through his fingers. "Where are you Sammy?" The whispered words seemed to echo in the empty space around him. Dean shivered it felt weird Sam not being there. They were in separate classes at school but all the other times it was him and Sammy. Even when they were with Dad it was still the two of them; Dean in front and Sam tagging onto the back of his shirt asking his darn questions.

Glancing back at the Mission Dean made up his mind. He knew that his Dad would tear into him when he found out Dean had gone after Sam but at least it would deflect some of his father's anger away from his brother.

Dean checked up and down the street before he continued following the fence's progress keeping his left hand on the wood as he rounded the corner. Here he stopped once again unsure of the way to go but across the street a shower of leaves spread under a bush caught his eye. It was too early in the year for leaves to be dropping in this number and several broken twigs on the bush itself indicated that someone had either collided with the overhanging branches or rushed past at speed.

Crossing the metalled road Dean continued stopping every few feet to examine the ground and surrounding gardens but he saw no more signs of his brother. He passed several grown-ups but didn't approach them even though he wanted to. 'You mustn't talk to strangers' His Dad's voice went round and round inside his head round and round tightening Dean's anxiety until he couldn't speak. All he could do was look for his brother and hope against hope that he found him.

XXXXXX

Sam's legs ached it seemed like he'd been walking for hours, turning down one road, then another until they all blurred into the same house-lined, lawn-trimmed tree-edged, street. Lights had come on in windows glowing out into the darkening suburb and bathing the interiors in a comforting yellow glow.

It looked warm and safe in those houses and not at all like Dad said but Sammy knew that his house had once been like that. Dean had told him, not in so many words 'cause Dean didn't talk much about it not that Dean talked much anyway but Sammy saw how his brother looked into those places when they passed by and how he would look sad and kinda lost. Sam knew that his mother had died in a house like that and so not trusting the promised comfort, tucking his head down, he turned away.

Continuing straight Sam trudged, dragging his feet with every step until the paving underfoot changed to grass. He stopped and glanced up. He'd reached yet another intersection, the roads reaching out into the dusky twilight. His chin quivered and he swallowed as he found he couldn't make a decision. He'd made so many, each with the hope he would find somewhere he knew somewhere that would at least give him some idea of where he might be but every time he'd been disheartened to find himself once again in a strange place.

Sam collapsed down onto the damp verge he was truly lost. A sob broke through his resolve. More followed shaking his body in silent aching anguish as arms crossed he hugged his thin chest. Tears coursed down his face gathering under his chin, dripping but Sam paid no heed so lost was he in his misery.

Eventually dread tired, the adrenalin from the heightened emotion having run its course and the hours of walking taking their toll, Sam could do no more than crawl under the protection of a low wall and close his eyes.

XXXXXXX

Dean had quickened his pace, jogging down each wide path checking around him. It was getting dark but at least being in a town the streetlights would kick in giving him a chance of spotting Sam. He turned yet another corner as he worked a zigzag route down alternate streets. He was conscious that he was hunting his brother and the hours of training his Dad had put him through were paying off but something in him, some stubborn resentment wouldn't let him acknowledge that fact.

It might be his, Dean's fault, that Sam had gone missing but it was Dad's restrictive hold on them both that had made Sam want to push against the prohibitive, confining commands and go to the park on his own. Dean admired Sam's rebelliousness. Even at the age of six his brother pushed the boundaries his Dad set but Dean had gone the other way deflecting his Dads attention from his brother by being extra good at things and by making a superhuman effort to please his father.

Sometimes, rarely he felt that he'd got through to his Dad but the praise Dean sought never came he was never good enough and he couldn't help the silent resentment that irked his father rise within him. The silences that followed were never easy and were never discussed. Only Sammy's small hand in his assuaged the hurt.

Halting Dean checked the time Sam had been missing for five hours. He set off again slowing his pace to a brisk walk as he crossed the next intersection, walking diagonally across the space.

A crossroad was special, he'd heard the things that Pastor Jim had said about them but he was a bit vague on how they actually worked but stopping suddenly at the centre he closed his eyes and made a wish. Dean put his whole being into the wish, holding his breath, willing the words in his head to be so.

'I want to find Sammy…I want to find Sammy.'

When he opened his eyes he felt foolish. Standing in the middle of the road praying, 'cause that's what it felt like, was stupid. He knew people that prayed, Pastor Jim prayed but never in Dean's experience had a prayer been answered. The Pastor said folks had to have faith but Dean wasn't sure what that was. He thought it was believing in something but he didn't know what he believed in. His Mom had believed in Angels but that hadn't helped her none when she needed it.

A heavy despondency settled over him and all of a sudden he found it hard to see. He blinked rapidly and wiping his sleeve over his eyes, sniffed berating himself for crying like a kid 'cause that wasn't gonna help find Sammy.

The lights of a car turning into the street brought Dean back to the realisation that he was still standing in the middle of the crossroads. He got out of the way, rushing as the Chevrolet accelerated past showing no awareness of the boy in the road. Backing up, stepping up the kerb Dean in his haste caught his foot on something, tripped and fell backwards.

"OW!"

Dean landed hard the breath knocked out of him but he had enough air left to gasp.

"Sammy?"

"Dean?" And suddenly his lap was full of his little brother, arms went round his neck and he was hugged. "I got lost." Sam's voice was all trembly and Dean hugged his brother back.

"S'okay Sammy, s'okay, I gotcha."

XXXXXXX

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU?" John yelled. "YOU NEVER, EVER LEAVE THE COMPOUND. What possessed you…" John stopped at his own words and was tempted for a moment to say 'Christo' but something made him hold his tongue. Sam was a mess, snivelling, shoulders bowed in misery as he stood staring down at his shabby trainers. He'd obviously had a scare. John's anger evaporated and he pulled his youngest into a fierce hug relieved that Sam had come to no harm. His son was living and breathing and safe.

John held the small form for a long time his large hand cupping Sam's head fingers entwined in the ridiculously long brown strands. How many times had John told Dean to cut his brother's hair.

Sam's arms tightened about John's hips as he buried his face in the material of his father's shirt. John allowed him the comfort for now but running off was a serious offence and he was not going to let Sam off lightly. He'd cautioned his boys countless times about staying put, about the dangers that lurked outside the protection he'd laid down and as for Dean he definitely should have known better than to let Sammy wander off on his own.

John looked up at his eldest who stood behind his brother and despite his mere ten years of life was glaring at his parent with all the belligerent intenseness of an adolescent. He opened his mouth to reprimand Dean not only for leaving his brother to his own devices but for going out alone to search. He knew he put a lot of responsibility on Dean's ten year old shoulders but it was for his and Sammy's own good. John didn't like playing the heavy handed father but he had to know that they would obey his orders without question, that his boys would safe. Dumb, stupid antics like this could get them killed. Abruptly John's throat went tight and he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. The last five hours had been almost as bad as those first days after Mary died. If he'd lost …

He looked down again. He'd been so worried, frightened for his boy, for both his boys especially after the job in Nelson. A vision of his own children superimposed over the gruesome photos Bill had shown him made him swallow. He squeezed Sam tighter in his arms and held him close whilst at the same time reaching for Dean. The boy resisted at first but then leaned in awkwardly hugging his younger brother as much as his Dad.

"M'sorry Dad." Sam mumbled into John's stomach wetting his shirt with more tears. "But the man scareded me."

Ice gripped John's heart. "Man?" He pulled Sam away from him and crouched. Softly he asked again. "What man Sammy?"

Hiccupping breath Sam sucked in his bottom lip, mouth curled downwards as he avoided his father's eyes. Afraid to ask John steeled himself then forced out the words.

"Sammy…did the man…do anything to you?"

"He h.h…hurt my arm." Sam pulled up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal four bruise marks in a row and one further round almost underneath the bicep. John's anger boiled again at the obvious finger prints on his son's pale skin but tainted with the relief that nothing more sinister had happened.

Sam shifted, fidgeting, twisting his fingers in the cloth of his shirt, "'an he scraped my back on the fence when he pushed me." Sam trembling slightly chewed his lip, "M' s..s…orry Dad I didn't mean to r..run away." He hiccupped his breath again, " I g..got l..lost." Finally Sam raised his head and looked up into his father's eyes.

John gazed at Sam's innocent tear streaked face and gathered him in for another hug.

"It's okay son." Sammy felt so small and skinny in his arms and John couldn't help the fear that rose up at how vulnerable both Sam and Dean were to the horrors that abounded their world.

"Sammy," Dean, barely audible to John, was kneeling down beside his brother, "Did the man say anything."

There was silence for a beat and then Sam turned to his brother, "Yeah." Sam's head went down to stare at his trainers again. "He said we were blood… something …'an …'an I didn' know what to do Dean. He wouldn't let me go 'an I pulled and pulled." The tears returned streaming down Sam's already blotchy face. "I didn't mean 'an…he…'an...'an."

"You got away that's what matters." Dean leant in for his own hug his hand rubbing Sam's back in a comforting gesture. Sam gave a small nod gulping in air.

John was kneeling now in front of his son, hands clasping the thin shoulders he drew Sam away from his brother. "A blood what Sammy…its important.?" Sam nodded sniffing repeatedly his forlorn expression making John want to hug him tight and never let him go but he needed information. His hands gripped harder on the thin shoulders. "Can you remember exactly what he said Sam?"

"He said we were pract practi something… blood rel…relatimes… 'an that I wasn't being friendly" There was silence Sam searching John's face.

"Was it blood relatives?"

Sam's whole face brightened. "Yeah... what does it mean Dad?"

John's skin crawled at his son's words and he had no answer to Sam's question. They had no blood relatives, well none on his side and if Mary had any family left they had not attempted to contact her since she'd married John. He gazed at Sam intently. "Did he say anything else Sammy. Think carefully because it's important.

Sam squirmed in John's grip but John held him firm any information could be crucial in finding who had assaulted his son.

"H..h..he told me his name…it was weird like Peter but not Peter."

"Pieter?" A ball of suspicion knotted in John's stomach as Sam blinked and his bottom lip quivered. He took his son's silence as assent.

"Sammy what did the man look like?"

Sammy rubbed his nose with his sleeve, normally John would have grumbled but now was not the time.

"H..he was old…older'an you Dad 'an not as tall." Screwing up his face Sam thought, "he had grey and brown hair…'an he was funny looking."

"Funny?"

Nodding Sam answered. "Yeah…his eyes were creepy…kinda yellowy."