Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warning: Swearing, and violence.

Author's Note: How freaking good does Croatoan and Hunted look? (I'm talking to Australians here, the rest should already know what happened in each of those eps) And Crossroad Blues was a blast! Ok, back to Sammy.

Chapter 7: Blank

The fight was on.

And it was over pretty much straight away. The man managed to throw three punches before the convict laughed and began to have some fun. The vampiric crowd cheered as the man was pummelled. Sam felt Blake look away in disgust as blood began to fly, and the man screamed. The hunter felt sick as well, and he could feel himself shaking. Not with nausea, and not in fear, never, but in fury. These bastards had taken them off the street to be murdered. To have the shit kicked out of them. And then some.

The fight lasted all of two minutes. There were a few boos from the crowd, vampires who didn't think it had lasted long enough. But two vampires stepped forward, grinning wildly, and took the beaten man as he was dragged from the cage. As Sam watched them, the two vampires dragged the semi-conscious man to the side and began to feed. It was then that he turned away in disgust.

Zane got back into the ring, and the crowd quietened down once more. The vampire was grinning.

"Next up we have a real treat," he yelled needlessly. The convict walked back to his cage and another was brought forward. One much bigger, and who looked more than slightly psychotic. The man cracked his knuckled and the sound seemed to echo around the barn. Sam heard Blake swallow noisily behind him. "This here folks, is Patrick Bailly. And let me introduce to you the man who put him behind bars."

Sam turned to look at Blake, who was pale and staring at Bailly. "That was you?" Sam asked, needing to be sure. Blake nodded.

"Five years ago, I was just starting out." The cop gave a weak laugh. "He always did say he'd find a way to get even. I never thought he'd see the light of day again to do anything."

Two vampires were heading their way to collect Blake for the fight. Sam made his decision quickly. He knew from talking with the cop that day that he had a wife and a baby daughter. And besides, he was a hunter, he was meant to be the one doing the fighting. In all, it was really no decision at all.

He pushed Blake back as the vampires opened the door, and stood in front of the man, arms up and ready. The crowd broke into a murmur.

"I'm fighting instead," Sam told the two vampires. They looked at each other.

"Sorry," one said. "Orders are orders."

They came in slowly, but Sam didn't move. "You're not taking him," the hunter told them decidedly. "You'll have to kill me first. And we wouldn't want that."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Marco stand up, but he didn't let his concentration waver from the two in front of him. Until the vampire leader spoke up.

"You know it's suicide, right boy? You'll be killed, just as McMillan would," Marco said over the crowd. Sam turned to him.

"Then it won't matter who fights, will it," he told the crowd. Marco grinned ruthlessly.

"It's your funeral. Bring him out boys."

Sam shrugged out of their grips and marched over to the cage. He felt dozens of eyes on him as he passed through the crowd of vampires, but let none of his unease show. He strutted, seemingly full of confidence, and the convict, Bailly, raised an eyebrow.

Then he was in the cage and Zane was getting out. Bets were being placed, but Sam heard none of it. He just stared at Bailly, who stared at him. The hunter felt his adrenaline pumping with the beat of his steady heart.

The bell rang in time with one pulse of his blood.

Sam leapt to the side as Bailly ran at him, head lowered, arms out. The convict ran into the side of the cage and bellowed wordlessly. Sam felt his own eyebrow rise. The man got angry from that?

He dropped slightly as Bailly turned back to him, death written on his face. This time he didn't run in, but walked, and Sam, for one of the few times in his adult life, had to stare up to face the man. Bailly wasn't taller by much, just an inch or two, but he had to be twice as thick as the younger man. Sam had to admit, the convict had all the advantage.

As he analysed, Bailly came closer, flexing his muscles in a show of strength that really didn't bother Sam. He had fought demons and werewolves, skinwalkers and wendigos, spirits and shapeshifters. One convict shouldn't be that much of a problem.

Then Bailly started punching.

Sam blocked the first one, and decided he really shouldn't try blocking anymore when his arm shook at the strength behind the taller man's strikes. He stepped to the side to avoid more, before lifting his leg in a kick.

His foot never got there. To his shock, Bailly grabbed his leg and pushed, sending him sprawling backwards to knock his head against the bars of the cage.

He didn't even get a chance to shake the stars away from his head. Bailly came in, grabbing the bars and swinging his foot. Sam felt the air leave his lungs as the impact drove him off the ground.

As if in slow motion, Sam watched as another foot came flying at him. He knew another one would break his ribs, and then he wouldn't be able to fight at all. And he wasn't going to let these bloodsuckers have the satisfaction of sucking on him.

He felt the adrenaline pounding away inside, and the fury of it forced a snarl onto his face. No one saw it, and Sam barely felt it. What he did feel was the sudden strength clawing to be free.

His hand snapped out to grab Bailly's foot the second before it could collide with his ribs again. The foot stopped instantly, and Sam swung his hips to kick Bailly's other leg out from underneath him. The convict went down in a solid heap.

But the fight was far from done. Sam and Bailly stood at the same time, snarls reflected in each other's faces. Again, Bailly came in swinging, and Sam blocked once, twice, before he failed under the strength of the other man once more. His head snapped back as blood flew from his mouth.

He took two steps back, reeling from that third punch. He could feel blood dripping down his cheek, and he wiped it away with his hand. He could fee the anger building inside, the rage at being brought here just to die at the hands of some criminal. He wasn't letting that happen. He let the anger fuel him, fuel his adrenaline until he could barely handle it, until it was a dark fury spreading over his mind…

… He stopped his hand an inch from the face of the cowering convict. Stunned, he wondered what the hell had happened. What the hell was going on? His hand dropped, and he fell back, scared of something. He just wasn't sure what that something was. He couldn't admit that it was himself he was scared of.

He crawled backwards on his hands until he came to rest against the bars. The barn was silent with shock, each face turned to him. The only one he could focus on was Bailly where he lay moaning three feet from him.

What had he done? The convict was a bloody mess. Nose broken, ribs bruising already, arm dislocated. And that was only what he could see. But the last thing he remembered was Bailly's fist coming at him.

"What did I do?" he whispered to himself, only just realizing he was breathing hard, panting. "What the fuck did I do?"

The cage door opened and Zane walked cautiously in. He gave Sam an almost furious glance before directing two vampires to drag what was left of Bailly from the cage. Sam watched as the convict moaned, and he was given the sore consolation that at least the man wasn't dead.

The door closed again and Sam went to run a hand through his hair. He stopped short though when he saw his knuckles. His bloodied knuckles, covered with so much of Bailly.

He turned to the side and threw up, heaving as he rid himself of everything he had eaten in the past day. Which wasn't actually that much, but it was more his body rejecting the sight of someone else's blood caked on his hand then anything.

Once finished, he got unsteadily to his feet, using the bars to rise. He looked up and saw everyone looking at him, stunned beyond words.

The door opened again, and Sam spun, making Zane jump. Then the vampire looked angry that he had done so, and motioned to two vampires to grab him. He didn't fight, just let them lead him back to his cell.

He walked in and they locked the door behind him. Blake was standing there, pale still, and Sam ignored him as he went to sit in the corner, away from everyone. He brought his knees up to his chest, realizing he was shaking, and trying to stop it. His hands were the worst. They trembled terribly, and he laced them together to try and make them stop. He closed his eyes and leaned his head on his knees, hands over his neck.

He didn't look up as Blake came and sat next to him. The cop was silent for a moment, and Sam was glad of it. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anything. What the hell had happened?

"You're in shock. What happened?" Blake finally asked. Sam shook his head.

"I don't know," he replied, his voice muffled. "I… I blanked out."

"No, I know that," Blake said quietly. "I mean, what happened in the past couple of days, to make you traumatized?"

Sam sat up straight, staring at the cop. "Excuse me?"

Blake sighed. "Look, I'm a cop. I've seen enough tragedy to know when someone's traumatized. And you definitely are. That's why you blanked out. Adrenaline rush, shoves away the emotions. And leaves you to come down like you have a cold, like you're in shock. It's dangerous by the way. Let's in a darkness, the need for a thrill, like it's a comfort. It becomes an addiction."

Sam laughed at his words, remembering the demon's. "Darkness… That's all it was," he spat bitterly. It was looking like the demon was right. It had taken him over. "I almost killed that man."

Blake shook his head. "Sam, trust me, if that had been purely because of some darkness, you would have killed him. Hell, if there was darkness in you, you wouldn't have been fighting at all. I would have. No, it was because of something that's happened recently. Trust me," the cop repeated. "It helps to talk."

"I don't want to talk!" Sam retorted, suddenly angry. "Look, just leave it. God, you sound like my brother."

He stood and began pacing the cell. He looked around, a little shocked to see the barn was half empty already. Everyone was leaving. After a moment he stopped, wincing. He looked down and found his ribs bruising. And that wasn't the only injury. His cheek was swollen, where Bailly had punched him. There were a couple of other fist sized bruised popping up in places. He turned back to Blake, frustrated.

"So what actually happened?" he asked, referring to the fight.

Blake shrugged. "It lasted nearly five minutes. Bailly put you down, kicked you. Then you got back up, and he punched you. And then, I don't know… you changed. You must have blanked out. And however hard he punched you after that, you just kept on coming. It wasn't like you were superhuman or anything. You just kept on going. I mean, you were good, but he still hit you. But you wouldn't go down. You beat him good, Sam. And don't feel so bad," he added, seeing the guilty expression. "That bastard deserves everything. What you did to him tonight… he did that to five women and a fourteen-year-old girl."

Blake shook his head. "You should have seen the vampires, man. Apart from Zane and Marco, they were going off. The blood, it was sending them into a frenzy, almost. And then you just stopped. I swear if you'd hit him again, you would have killed him. Or put him into a coma, or something. But you stopped, and it shocked them all, because what they'd been expecting was gone."

Sam frowned with disgust. The sick bastards hadn't even been horrified by what he had done. They had just wanted him to finish the job.

He sighed and sat back down next to Blake. He hadn't made this any easier for himself. He knew that now the vampires would be even more desperate to find out who he was.

So, still liking it? It gets heaps better from here. Well, more action, less setting up. Sorry it's taken a while to get to this point. Anywho, thanks for reading!