Author's note: Once again, thank you to every one who took the time to read and to review my story. Only a few more chapters left. I wish I could give Dean a hug right about now.

Let me know what you think!

Kaze-Chan

Chapter 6

John pivoted in circles, his throat sore from yelling his son's name. Every second of silence that passed only added to his state of panic. His fist shook at his side as the feeling of helplessness grew within him. Sam's coughing brought him back to reality. Though he wanted to find Dean now, he knew Sam needed him first. Quickly he made his way back to his youngest side, dragging him to his feet and more or less carrying him to his truck. After he loaded a semiconscious Sam into the passenger seat he spared a last glance towards the dark forest. His heart sank at the though of Dean lying hurt and alone. He was coming back, he told himself; he just hoped Dean could hold on until then.

*****

Bobby groaned in his sleep as the persistent sound of a ringing phone chorused through the darkness. Without looking at the caller ID, he flipped the cell phone opened. "This better be good." He barked through the line.

"Bobby, it's John." The man sounded beyond tired, the kind brought on by stress and worry. "Sam's hurt and Dean's missing." Bobby was awake in seconds. "I need your help." Bobby got the directions and headed out the door to meet them, all the while cursing the Winchester stupidity gene. If he had thought for one second that Dean would have taken a hunt this soon, he wouldn't have let the kid leave. The simple fact that John Winchester, despite his pigheaded stubbornness, called to asked for help, instantly sent him into a panicked hurry. There was no telling what kind of trouble those boys could get into.

*****

John watched the slow rise and fall of Sam's breathing; his skin nearly as pale as the white hospital sheets. By the time he managed to drag Sam back to the truck, he was suffering from severe blood loss. He leaned his head into his hands, unable to shake to pit in his stomach. With no clue as to Dean's whereabouts, he had no choice but to get Sam to a hospital and fast. As he sat here in silence, he wanted nothing else than to head back out in search of his oldest. He decided he would wait for Bobby.

He nearly jumped out of his chair when a strong hand fell on his shoulder. Bobby looked tired but relieved, making him look years older than he really was. John squinted at the bright light filtering in through the window; he must have fallen asleep at Sam's bedside. Bobby stepped closer to Sam, taking in all the beeping machines around the young man. "He lost a lot of blood, but the doctors say he should be fine." John sat up in his chair, his voice gruff.

Bobby stood in silence, letting his mind time to filter through everything he wanted to say. "What happened? Where's Dean?" John's shoulders sunk at the simple questions, the words weighing heavy on him. After a deep breath, John quickly explained the hunt, not sparing any of the details or the blame. Bobby listened in silence, his expression never changing. Once John had finished the two listened to the constant beeping in the background.

"You stupid asshole." Bobby's quiet voice easily filtered through the silence before he turned and headed back towards the hall. John got to his feet to follow, knowing where the other hunter was heading. "No," Bobby stared down the man in front of him, lifting his arm and pointing to the recently empty chair. "you're staying here and keeping an eye on Sam. I'm going to get Dean." John was never one to take orders but he had quickly learned that when Bobby Singer meant business, you were best to do as he said.

*****

Curse after curse filter through Bobby's car as he drove to the abandoned house, most of them directed towards the stupidity that is John Winchester. As he pulled into the long driveway, the afternoon sun did nothing to calm his nerves. He parked next to Dean's Impala; the black car having been left behind, abandoned, much like it's owner.

He knew John had been in a tight situation but he could not understand ever leaving one of his sons behind, and Bobby did consider Sam and Dean like his children. Though he rarely did hunting jobs anymore, he was no amateur. It took him only a few minutes to cover the perimeter of the house, looking for any other clues that John and Sam may have overlooked in their hurry. After finding nothing of interest outside, he tentatively made his way inside; gun at the ready, counting every step and scanning every corner. If a shapeshifter had gotten the drop on all three Winchester's, it no doubt had a few tricks up its sleeve.

Systematically, he searches every floor and every room; easily avoiding the hole in the floor where Dean had probably fallen through. The only level left was the basement. Slowly, he made his way down the narrow staircase flash light in hand and a gun armed with silver bullets in the other. Part of him wanted to find Dean and know he was fine, but the more rational part of him kept reminding him to be prepare for reality; that this may not be a fairytale ending. Either way, he wasn't leaving until he knew which part of himself was right.

****

Dean drifted in and out of consciousness; each time, to his dismay, lasting just a little longer and leaving him that much more tired. He didn't dare turn onto his stomach, though he knew it certainly would make things easier. He tried taking in a deep breath, but his throat wouldn't cooperate. He could only imagine the array of coloured bruising winding around his neck; no doubt the perfect shape of the shapeshifter's hands. Gripping the concrete floor with his freezing fingers, he used his arms to pull himself towards what he hoped was a wall. Every inch instantly rewarded him with the disturbing sound of bone grinding against bone, followed by the overwhelming pain associated. The splint Sam had made for him was still attached, keeping the first break steady, but it currently did nothing to help the second.

He lay on his back, gasping for breath as he just managed to stay conscious this time; just managing to keep the spreading black dots at bay. Another shiver coursed through him, sending new jolts of pain up his body. He groaned in pain, clenching his teeth shut to prevent a cry. He had to force himself not to panic when he realised he couldn't feel anything below his left knee. Though he was sure the sun must have risen by now, the small space remained pitch dark.

He sighed in relief as he felt a wall. "Jesus C..Christ." Dean groaned as he laboriously pulled himself up to a sitting position. His stomach roiled as he felt the bone shift within his leg. In an automatic reaction, his body heaved the contents of his already nearly empty stomach onto the floor beside him. After minutes of dry heaves, Dean coiled down on his side, his arms clutching his middle before gripping his thigh. If he had any strength left, it had just been cut by half.

***

The basement was dark and damp but more importantly, it was empty. There were no signs of Dean or any indication that anyone had been down here in years; layers of dust covered every surface. There had been a few foot prints in the dust at the top of the stairs, probably the second shifter lying in wait, but nothing beyond that.

He silently cursed as he spun in a circle, letting the light fall on every inch of the cement walls. By the third time he circled around, he noticed the space he was currently in was much smaller than the floor plan of the house above. He was up the stairs in seconds and heading back outside.

"DEAN!!!" he yelled as he started a second examination of the outside of the house, this time specifically looking for a hiding door. In the old days, houses weren't built on foundations due to the overwhelming cost. Instead, small cellars were dug underneath the structure with only a small door for an entrance. He searched every inch around the house but found nothing. "DEAN!!!" He yelled out into the empty forest. He had promised himself he would stay calm but that was easier said than done.

With no other option, he headed down the trail; quickening his pace as the forest closed around him. He had searched every inch of that house; from the basement to the pantry closet to the attic. His stopped mid stride as something occurred to him. The pantry closet in the kitchen had a small rug. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time but who would put a rug in a pantry unless they had something to hide.

His feet were carrying him back towards the house before he finished his trail of thought. In some houses, the cellar doors were inside the kitchen, inside what was sometimes now the pantry closet. He pulled the dirty rug out of the small space, lifting a cloud of dust but revealing a small wooden door in the floor boards. "DEAN!!" His voice echo in the small space.

On his way down, he frantically searched the darkness with his flash light; the beam of light instantly falling on the slumped figure. He was down the stairs and by Dean's side in seconds. "Dean, hey come on wake up son?" Bobby spared a glanced at the broken leg, wincing as he could only imagine the amount of pain he must be in. "Dean." Bobby gently gripped Dean's shoulder, his voice anything but calm. Though he didn't have children, Bobby had always considered Dean as a son. Anger coursed through him at the mere thought of leaving him behind like John had done. "Com' on Dean, wake up." He felt for Dean's pulse, finding it weak and erratic. "Dean…"