Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with/joining this story, friends! I'm reaching a critical action-packed part of the story and would love your input (i.e. reviews) of how you think it's going (LOVE reviews!). Also, I'm kind of running out of ideas for creatures within the compound for our Heroes to confront/fight and would love some direction if you have any. Feel free to offer guidance, but I'm happy to just get some encouragement to press on. Thanks!

Chapter Eleven – Sometimes You Need a Moment

Collapsing on the river bank, soaked and cold to the core, Sam once again could not believe this was his life.

At his age, he should be thinking about prom, deciding what girl to ask. He should be thinking about finals and being stupid at kegger parties. Hanging out with friends. Hell, he should be prepping for his scholarship submission to Stanford.

Not lying by the side of a river, miraculously alive after jumping off a 30-foot cliff into a raging river to avoid being torn to shreds by werewolves or whatever the hell those things were. This was not the life of a normal 17-year-old.

But when was he ever normal? Would he ever be normal, have normal?

He knew he should get up, find a way to get back to Dean, to the compound and his father but for the life of him he just couldn't move. Not because of injury. He wasn't hurt at all, despite the hard landing into the water. He just wanted a moment, one freakin' moment to feel sorry for himself. To rue his cursed existence. To wish for a different life. One moment.

So there he lie, looking up at the night sky, the river raging on beside him. It probably wasn't safe to not be on the alert, but he didn't care. Anything could be lurking, stalking nearby, but he didn't care. His father could be dead, Dean too, maybe, for all he knew, but in this one moment, he just didn't care.

But then he thought again about Dean and immediately felt bad for feeling that way about his brother. It wasn't Dean's fault they led this life. Dean had always done so much, worked so hard to give Sam a taste of normal when he could, even if most times it was in secret or while their father was away on a hunt. A movie here, a ball game there. Dean was an amazing big brother, and of course Sam cared what happened to him.

So, pity party for one over. Time to get back to the job.

Sam stood slowly, making sure that his earlier assessment of not being hurt was correct. He was sore and very wet and cold, but not hurt. Fortunately, he'd slung his duffel over his shoulder before the frantic leap and had managed to hold onto the bag during his impromptu swim so at least he wasn't completely unarmed.

He looked back up the cliffside which was still fairly steep despite being down river quite a ways. Sam figured he was still within the confines of the compound but wondered how monitored this part of it would be. The cliff was too steep to climb, so he started heading back up river, hoping to find some kind of path up. Unfortunately the river was too loud for him to hear the sounds of the woods around him, so he'd have to be extra alert for anything nearby. Spidey sense would be really good to have right now, he smiled to himself. He thought about trying to contact Dean with the cell but he didn't want to potentially alert anything to Dean's position. Besides, the phone was currently waterlogged and not presently working. He knew Dean was probably looking for him but hoped his brother wouldn't endanger himself doing so. But of course, when did Dean ever put his own safety above Sam's?

As he continued along the bank, Sam thought he saw something that resembled a large storage drain up ahead. As he got closer, he found that indeed it was. He approached the opening slowly, ready in case something was standing guard, but his luck seemed to be holding out – the opening was clear. Digging out his flashlight, he shown it into the drain and found it was big enough for him to crawl through. He was pretty sure it led back into the compound – where else could it be from? – but would have to take the chance without being a hundred percent sure. There were no other options, not unless he wanted to continue to walk further up or down river where he might be spotted or find no other ways up the slope.

Taking a breath to center himself, he crawled inside.

SNSNSN

"They're fine."

John looked over at Sera, who had been silent ever since their recapture. On Victor's order, they had been taken to a large, arena-like room where John figured their next "contest" would take place. He was relieved they'd been kept together but had been concerned over Sera's silence, not knowing her well enough to anticipate her next move given the amount of rage that had radiated off of her earlier and also not sure if the binding spell was still in place, if not heightened.

"I don't know."

"What?" John asked.

"I don't know my next move. I don't know what he's going to do to us, and yes, the spell is still in place so maybe you shouldn't be so relieved."

"I see you're not curbing the mind-reading anymore."

Sera glared at him. "Why should I? Why should I let you or anyone else have privacy of thought? Nothing is my own anymore, so why should you be any different? Besides, it's exhausting controlling my abilities all the time so I'm not going to, alright?"

"Okay," John said, understandingly. "What did you mean before, by the way? What's fine?"

"Your sons."

John's heart leapt. Of course he'd been worried to death about them and been hoping Victor, in his supremacy, would have let him know how Sam and Dean were fairing, but with no word yet he'd forced himself to push his boys to the back of his mind, trusting in their abilities and training to keep them safe. "They're okay?"

"I told you they were," Sera snapped.

"Where are they?"

"On the grounds somewhere."

"Are they close? Are they hurt?"

"I don't know, okay? They're alive, that's all I know," she snapped again.

"Serenity, I know you're angry and I don't blame you, but taking it out on me isn't going to help either of us. We need to stick together."

"Why?" she asked, exasperated. "You still think we're gonna get out of here? You're deluding yourself."

"Maybe I am, but one thing I know for sure is that we won't get out if we give up. Personally, if I'm going down I'm going down fighting. And before that I'm sure as hell going to make sure my boys are okay. I'm not giving up on them, so don't give up on me just yet, okay?"

Sera looked at him, the smirk on his handsome face an earnest, even playful one, and she smiled back.

"Think you can get another message to them?" John asked.

Sera closed her eyes and, with a deep breath, reached out to try and link with John's sons, but had trouble locking onto to both of them.

"I don't think they're together," she said, straining.

"What? How can you tell?"

"The connection isn't as strong as it was before."

"Could it be the binding spell?"

"I don't think so, it just feels like they're not together."

"Can you reach one of them?"

"I can tr…"

But just then, the door to the room opened.

SNSNSN

The drain seemed endless. Sam had been crawling for what seemed like half an hour at a steadily increasing incline but had not reached any kind of internal outlet. As he stopped a moment to rest, he couldn't help but think about Andy Dufrane in The Shawshank Redemption. He'd had to crawl the length of five football fields, but that had been through raw sewage, so Sam was incredibly thankful his tunnel seemed to be just a regular water main. As he started up again, he though about what Dean and his dad were up to. He wished he'd seen Dean take down the wolf attacking him so that he'd know he was okay, but that wasn't the case. But he knew his brother and what he was capable of and he believed he'd know if anything bad had happened to him. They just had that kind of connection.

But he didn't have that connection with his father. They had become more and more distant the last few years as Sam protested their lifestyle more and more. At first he'd kept his dislike of the family business to himself, somewhat fearing his father's backlash. Then he'd become more vocal to Dean, but being the dutiful son Dean was, he hadn't gotten much sympathy there. So at last Sam had begun openly debating – okay, arguing—with his father, not longer afraid to voice his opinions. But his aspirations for college and a future away from hunting he still kept to himself. That would reap a new kind of wrath Sam wasn't quite ready to face.

Again, other normal 17-year-olds probably couldn't wait to tell their parents how their teachers unanimously recommended them for scholarships, told them they could have their choice of any top school in the country. For others, that was an achievement of merit. But not in the Winchester household. Between a full ride to an Ivy League school and bagging your first banshee, John would exalt the latter and scoff the former. Really messed up, Dad, Sam sighed. But he knew his old man would never change and it would be a conversation they were just going to have to have.

But first John had to be alive for such a conversation to take place, and Sam just didn't know if he was. Brought back to the present, Sam started up again.

He went on about another 10 minutes when the drain seemed to branch off, one direction staying level, the other sloping upward steeply. The choice was made when Sam could see light up toward the top. Thunderous cheering and applauding also seemed to be echoing through the new tunnel as well. He quickened his pace as best he could, carefully making his way up the shaft, and as he got closer to the top the light and the cheers grew louder. The vent system he now seemed to be in began splitting off into various new tunels with light and sound coming from all offshoots. Having no way of determining the best path, he opted for left and continued on.

As he went along, Sam saw grates in the bottom of the vents leading to chambers below. He carefully and quietly approached the first, though stealth really wasn't necessary being that it was so loud in the drain now from the thunderous cheering coming from the arena below. He peered through the grate and beheld a bloody brawl going on between what looked like a rawhead and one of his friendly wolf-like creatures. What he didn't see were any live spectators. The cheers seemed to be emanating from several speakers next to large monitors hanging on the walls. Fans from afar, Sam surmised. It would seem the Collector televised his competitions for avid enthusiasts via satellite. How industrious, Sam thought. Maybe he could pitch it to FOX: American Gladiators – Underworld Edition. He'd have to remember to share that with Dean, sure his big brother would get a kick out of it. His attention again focused to finding Dean, he continued on.

Three more grates and three more contest-laden arenas later, Sam came across another split and this time opted for right. He came to a darkened grate and thought it might be time to leave the vent behind. He knew he'd be at greater risk of detection, but he just couldn't determine how far the vent system went and in how many more offshoots. And this room below was the only unoccupied one he'd come across so far and there was no guarantee of another, so it was a calculated risk he was just going to have to take.

Carefully prying the grate loose, he waited to see if an alarm would go off. When none did – at least a non-silent one – he dropped down into the room below.

Not wanting to switch on a light unnecessarily, Sam used his flashlight to take in the room around him. Now, in his long experience as a Winchester, it was often thought that if his family didn't have bad luck, they wouldn't have any luck at all. Well, with what Sam beheld in the tiny room around him, he might have believed then and there that he was adopted, because Sam Winchester found himself surrounded by wall-to-wall weapons: knives, swords, cattle prods, maces, crossbows.

Sam had dropped down into an armory. Well, at least now if he got detected, he could at least put up one hell of a fight. Now, let's see … Sam thought as he began laundry-listing what he should take.

Again, reviews welcome! Thanks!