Caught Between A Rock And A Hard Place.

Summary. . . . . . . After John refuses a hunt he has been asked to do, a fellow hunter takes drastic measures to ensure his participation.

Disclaimer. . . . . . Still only playing in Kripkies sandbox.

A.N. . . . . . . . Sorry about the wait, the chapter's been written since last weekend but I just couldn't get around to typing it. Early morning shifts suck! Any way as always thanks for taking time out to read, Peanut x

After getting through his explanation to Jim, John had started getting prepared for the hunt he was about to partake in. A hunt to track down Evan, and get his baby boy back. ,methodically he set about restocking his truck borrowing some items, loaning others from Jim's hidden room inside the church. After triple checking everything was in order he went searching for Dean, not having seen his son since he stormed from the car. As he climbed the old wooden staircase that led up from the centre of the house his hunters instincts automatically kicked in making him avoid the steps, he had grown to know over time, that creaked. John contemplated just what he was going to say to Dean, just what he could do to ease his eldest's worries.

He wasn't very good at this, was never one who was at ease sharing emotions or feelings, he hadn't been for a very long time. He'd had to learn quickly how to open up to his children after Mary's death, yet still found it easier to treat Dean and Sam, as young as they were, like the recruits that had so often been under his command; making him at times seem very harsh and controlling. Deep down though he loved his children dearly, would give up his life willingly for either one of them. He just wished that he could show them that love every once in a while, but he knew what was out there, what was chasing his small family, what was lurking in the shadows, and if by treating his boys like mini marines kept them alert, kept them safe, then John was unwilling to change what, he saw in his own eyes, was his own form of love.

He hesitated as he reached the top of the stairs, a part of him wanting to rush straight back down, jump in the Impala and drive off without having to face the disappointment, the guilt, the wanting he knew would be written all over Dean's face. Sucking up his own fears though he turned left and headed for the boys room. His heart broke and a limp formed in his throat at the sight that befell him as he pushed open the heavy oak door to the room. Dean lay curled up on his side, Sam's baby blanket and the one eyed, no eared teddy bear Sam refused to give up, clutched against his chest; exhaustion finally claiming him. Exhaustion, judging by the tracks that still glistened on his cheeks, brought on by crying.

Not wanting to disturb Dean, knowing this rest wouldn't last, John crept quietly into the room. Pulling the blanket from the other bed he draped it carefully across Dean's body, gently, loosely tucking it around his son. He ran a hand through Dean's hair before speaking words that came easier knowing his audience couldn't hear them.

"I'll get him back safe, Dean. I'll bring Sammy back, I promise you."

Leaning down to kiss Dean's forehead, John lingered a moment before leaving the room. One thought, one mission, now forefront in his mind. Kill Evan, and get Dean his brother back.

As John climbed back down the stairs his mood was already beginning to change. He barked orders at Jim who, used to this side of John, barely blinked at the tone, yet agreed to the commands, "keep Dean safe, keep Dean here, check further into Evan." With a quick mental checklist to make sure that he had everything he required, John left the house with a quick "I'll be in touch" thrown over his shoulder. Marching across the driveway he threw his bag into the Impala's trunk before closing it. Moving to the drivers side he opened the creaky door and settled in, taking a moment to take in the smell of old leather combined over the years with the faint traces of hamburgers and onions, and the apple shampoo Mary had insisted the boys have; something that to this day he still bought.

Unwilling to let the smells, and the memories that came with them, cloud his judgement, John turned the ignition, put the car in gear and roared out of the driveway. So focussed now John didn't look back at Jim's house; didn't see his eldest son at the bedroom window; didn't see the tears that were flowing once again down his cheeks; didn't see his son's lips move, speaking words he couldn't hear, "you promised Dad, you gotta bring him back."

Sticking to the back roads, John was able to keep his speed reasonably high, yet still avoid any detection. Arriving in Sioux Falls in the early hours he parked in the deserted car park of Tomacelli's Pizza, not wanting the black beasts distinctive engine to give away the fact that he had arrived. Taking out the map he had bought at a gas station on the edge of town, he doubled checked the whereabouts of Evan's house. Figuring he had about a ten minute walk ahead of him, John got out, retrieved his duffle, locked up and set off.

He slowed as he turned into the street the house was located on, instincts borne from years of training coming to the fold. Edging along the walkways, skirting to avoid any street lights, John kept his senses open and alert. As he reached the house that sat to Evan's right, he snuck stealthily into the back yard before silently climbing the fence into the other hunters yard. He paused as he reached the back door, listening intently for the slightest of sounds, hearing none he made slight work of the lock before his hand turned the knob and he entered, moving quickly through the kitchen towards the main room. He stood stock still in shock as a voice sounded out, it's tone tinny and slightly distorted by the cheap recording device it came from.

"Tut, tut, tut Johnny Boy. I knew you would try this. I told you, you should have just taken my offer!" John heard the familiar click ping of a grenade pin being pulled at the same time the message as he heard Evan add. "Say bye-bye to Sammy, John!"

John caught by his indecisiveness for a few seconds, get to Sam or get out, tried to move but it was too late, the grenade going off with a thunderous roar and setting off others that were placed nearby. He dove through at archway that led to the kitchen in an attempt to clear the blast but was unable to fully do so, the heavy table from the main room slamming into his back, pushing him into the kitchen cabinets with such force he felt ribs break, his head colliding with the stove top as he crumpled to the ground. As he descended into darkness, John could only think of Dean and Sam, and how he had failed them yet again.

A.N. . . . . . I hope everyone enjoyed, catch you soon with more, Peanut x