hello everyone. sorry about the long delay, work is starting to get a little crazy. hopefully then next chapter wont take so long. :) thank you all so much for the great reviews, they make my day. enjoy the next installment :)

IN TRANSIT

Chapter 8

Sam leaned against the closed door of boxcar number four hundred and eighty three; his sharp brown eyes scanning everything around him, studying each person that passed. He knew his brother was only feet away, but to the younger hunter, it felt more like miles. Sam didn't like being separated from his brother, especially when Dean was hurt, but he didn't have any other options at the moment. His brother's arm needed to be set, and he couldn't calm himself enough to do it.

Ever since his encounter with whatever the hell it was they were hunting, Sam had been on edge and shaky. It was almost like he could still feel the overwhelming fear eating away at him; the nightmares hovering at the back on his mind, waiting to pounce. He knew they weren't real memories, knew that it was all something the creature had put in his head, but that didn't make them any less real in his tortured mind. He could feel the heat of the fire as it consumed his perfect life; hear his brother's body as it was crushed beneath the train. It was like a weight bearing down on him, crushing him, suffocating him.

"You all right there, kid?"

Sam opened his eyes at the sound of the voice, surprised to find himself shaking violently, his face covered in sweat. It had happened again. He had been leaning against a door and his mind had slipped right back into the terror once more. His tormented body going into shock as he waited for word on his brother.

"Uh yeah." Sam began, rubbing his now aching forehead. "Yeah, I'm ok."

"You don't look it." Pete answered, eyeing Sam like he was some kind of alien hybrid.

"Well, I am. Thanks for your concern."

"Not concerned, just saying you don't look right." Pete stated, as though he were talking about the weather, his dark eyes still taking in every inch of Sam.

"Oh um, ok." Sam stuttered, shifting a bit under the intensity of the old man's gaze.

"The boy with Raven, what happened to him?" Pete asked after a few moments of awkward silence, his head tilting towards the boxcar as he spoke.

"He fell trying to get onto the train."

"Lucky he wasn't sucked under it." Pete mumbled, his eyes scanning the forest around them as a light breeze blew through the pass.

Sam felt as though his heart had frozen in his chest, the old hobo's words stabbing him, sinking into the twisted memories, giving them strength. And, once again, Sam could feel the terror growing in his chest, the force of the fear tightening around his heart. It had been so close, and he knew that it could have been so much worse. He could have lost his brother, watched as Dean disappeared from his side forever.

"Hey!" Pete growled, shaking Sam's shoulders hard, forcing the young hunter to look at him.

"Sorry." Sam mumbled, rubbing his pounding forehead.

"We don't appreciate you coming 'round here and causin' trouble." Pete barked, his inky eyes narrowing as he stared Sam down.

"We're not."

"You on drugs?"

"What!" Sam's eyes flew open, studying the man before him. "No, of course not." The younger Winchester defended, understanding why Pete had jumped to the conclusion.

He was sweating, his body pale and shaking, breathing shallow and even. Hell, had it not been for the fact that he actually saw the thing that did it, Sam would have thought he was coming down off of something, too.

"I'm just a little sick, is all."

Pete just huffed, obviously not believing Sam for a moment. But instead of walking away, instead of ignoring the hunter like Sam would have expected; Pete continued to stand beside him, his gaze drifting between the twenty two year old and the closed door behind him.

"What are you two really doing here?"

"Just traveling."

"Bull."

"Look." Sam began, closing his eyes as a prayed for patients. He was really getting tired of the older man's constant accusations. "You're not gonna believe what I say one way or another. So could you just buy the explanation and leave?"

Something shifted in the man's eyes at Sam's curt words; the hard orbs growing a bit lighter. It was almost like a memory washed over him, pulling him away from their dank surroundings, sending his mind back to a brighter time, a better time. After several long moments, he spoke again, his voice a bit lighter, the hard edge gone.

"That one in there your brother?"

"Yeah."

"He a troublemaker?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at the statement. "That's putting it lightly. But, he never means any harm." Sam added hastily, not wanting to lose the man's new found confidence.

"I've been on these rails long enough to know they're not a place you want to be, kid."

"Sam."

"Sam. You and your brother should get on home." Pete spoke somberly, his voice shifting back to the tone he used with Molly.

"That's not really an option."

"Better option than this place."

"We're not looking to stay."

"Then why're you here? And don't give me any bull this time."

"Well, my brother and I, we're kind of looking into the deaths."

"You're cops?" Pete growled, his eyes going dark, voice growing hard and sharp once more.

"No, no." Sam began, putting his hands up, forming his next words carefully. "We're not cops, far from it actually."

"Reporters?"

"Just, trust me when I say we're here to help."

"I don't trust anyone, Sam. Specially not some lying kid I just met."

"Then why'd you send us down here?" Sam asked, he too growing irritated with the conversation. If Pete didn't give a rat's ass about them, then why the hell had he sent them for help in the first place?

"The boy needed his arm fixed."

"The boy's name is Dean."

"Makes no difference." Pete answered absently, his eyes drifting once more to the boxcar.

"Whatever, I've got too much of a headache to argue."

"So, you're not a cop or reporter? Who are you then?"

"Just brothers."

"How'd you expect to help us then?"

"Lets just say we look into things that can't really be explained."

Understanding seemed to fall over Pete like a tidal wave. His face fell slightly, almost as though a distant fear was forcing its way back into his mind, shaking him down to the soul. He knew something, of that Sam was sure, and the younger Winchester switched into hunting mode instantly.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you."

"The trains are a place for stories, kid."

"Stories or not, you know what's going on."

"If I did, you think I wouldn't stop it? You think I'd let kids like Martin die? Those kids were just coming around, just starting to get themselves together again. You think that if I knew something, I wouldn't have stopped it!"

"I didn't say that."

"Sure as hell sounded like you did. I'm gonna tell you this once, Sam. Keep your nose out of our business. We didn't ask for help, and this is no place for you. Take your brother and go." And with that, Pete stormed away, leaving Sam reeling.

The man knew something, Sam was certain, but what he just didn't know. Pete was at the center of it, that much was obvious, but there was still so much more Sam didn't understand. If Pete knew what it was then why wasn't he trying to stop it, or at least searching for help? And why the hell was he so damn interested in Dean?

The second question weighted heavier of Sam's already tormented soul. He needed to learn more about the mysterious man that ran the train, and he knew that he wouldn't get another word out of Pete no matter how hard he tried. No, he needed to talk to the others, get some more information on the man known as Pete.

Making his decision Sam pushed away from the car, his mind torn between his brother, and the information they needed to end this hunt. Dean would be safer away from the train, and if that meant separating from him to get answers, then that's what Sam would do. Beside, he was just going to ask a few questions, how much trouble could they get into?

Sam scanned the area as he walked, searching for any signs of Pete or the sentinel from the log wagon. He needed to get this hunt over with, as much for himself as for Dean. Even though he was focused on the forest, his mind set firmly in the present, there was still a voice at the back of his head, calling to him, telling him everyone he loved was dying and dead. The memories flashed before his eyes, making the young hunter's heart race, his breath quickening with each memory. The creature was still killing him, still trying to pull him down, and Sam didn't know how much longer he could fight it.

They were racing against a being they knew nothing about, and Sam knew that they were running out of time.

Soft sobbing drifted to the young man's ears, Sam stopping in his tracks when he heard it, his brown eyes searching the scattered tents and blankets for the sound. A few moments later he found the source. Molly was laying alone near the edge of the forest, far away from the crowd and the train, her back to the world.

She was on her side, arms covering her face, her small body shaking with each chocking breath. Sam's heart broke for the girl before him, his own mind drifting back to Jessica, back to the perfection he had lost, the dreams that had been stolen from him by the darkness he could never seem to outrun. Everyone always said it was better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all, but Sam didn't believe that statement for a second. Nothing in all his life ever matched the pain of losing the beautiful blonde he had loved so much. Had he never met her then she still would have been alive and safe, and he wouldn't be carrying around a crushing pain in his heart.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, his voice soft.

"Go away." Molly chocked back, her face still buried.

"I heard what happened, I'm so sorry."

"I don't care. Just go away."

"Alright. But if you want to talk, my name's Sam."

"What could I possibly have to talk to you about? You don't know what this is like."

"I do. My girlfriend." Sam stopped, his voice freezing in his throat. "My girlfriend died a few months ago."

"It's not fair." Molly sobbed, not turning towards Sam, but not shooing him away either.

"I know."

"How come everybody else gets to be happy?"

"I don't know."

"I wasn't even around then. That stupid boy, why do I have to suffer for him." The young girl spit out, her voice growing harsher and angrier as she spoke.

"What are you talking about?"

"The older ones always told us the train was cursed. I thought it was one of their stupid stories. How come we have to suffer because of them?"

Just as Sam opened his mouth to speak the horn on the train bellowed, the monster behind them coming to life. Molly sprang to her feet, gathering up her meager belongings faster than what Sam would have thought possible. It was only when he turned that he realized how far from the train he had actually walked.

"What's going on?"

"The train's leaving." She called, already rushing past him towards the nearest boxcar.

"I have to get back to my brother."

"You have to get on the train, you'll find him later." She ordered, grabbing his arm, her face still streaked with tears. "We're thirty miles from the nearest town, no one will know if you're gone."

Sam conceded, his heart racing as the train began to charge forward, people rushing to it on all sides of him. He caught the ladder, helping Molly climb into the empty car as the locomotive began to pick up speed. He peered up and down the train, watching the last few stragglers hop on. He had no idea which car his brother was in, the compartments all blending together in his mind. With a final sigh, Sam pulled the heavy door closed. Maybe splitting up wasn't the smartest thing to do.