Chapter Nine: Running Free

Sioux Falls, South Dakota-1999

Dean rubbed at his burning eyes and looked back down at the newspaper article even as the words swam in his vision.

"It's two in the mornin' son," Bobby's voice startled the young man and Dean peered behind him to see the grizzled hunter wearing a pair of old grey long johns underneath a threadbare brown housecoat.

"I'm not tired," Dean immediately told the older man and returned his gaze to the paper.

He had been sifting through newspaper articles for hours, hoping for some sign of demon activity- crop failures, cattle deaths, electrical storms- that would lead them to Samuel.

Sam, Dean corrected himself, It's Sammy.

"You're not going to be any use if yer dead on yer feet," Bobby told him and Dean sighed.

"We had him, Bobby," Dean said quietly, "And I scared him away. It was my fault he ran away and got caught by those demons again."

"You didn't know," the veteran hunter tried to assuage some of Dean's guilt but the young man shook his head.

"No! I was an idiot and it's my fault my brother got kidnapped again."

Bobby took a seat across from Dean, shoving the newspaper clippings to one side.

"It wasn't your doin' the first time!"

Dean looked down at the tabletop.

"I shouldn't have left the motel room," he said as though it was some sort of mantra, "I shouldn't have left the window open. I should have stayed with Sammy."

"You were eight years old for Christ's sake, Dean!" Bobby insisted.

"But I should have known better! Dad told me not to leave, to stay inside! I knew what was out there and I-"

Bobby held up a calloused hand.

"You get yourself upstairs and into bed," he told the younger man, "Yer stressed out and tired. We can start fresh tomorrow morning."

Dean wanted to protest but the grizzled hunter just shook his head, standing up from the table.

Following Bobby's lead, Dean stood and trudged up the creaky wooden staircase, his thoughts on Sam and walked into the guest bedroom. John was already sleeping in one of the beds, snoring loudly. Dean lay down on the empty bed without taking his clothes off and closed his eyes, dreaming about lost baby brothers and black eyes.

"The School", State Unknown-1999

Samuel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to also shut out the pain.

He pressed his back against the rough stone wall, curling in on himself protectively.

Despite his best efforts to stop himself, Samuel began to sob; the agony and despair were too much for him.

The other children would continue to torture him for as long as LeGraine saw fit.

There was no escaping his fate.

W

The teen looked up wearily through swollen, bloodshot eyes at the sound of footsteps coming down the wooden stairs.

It was Lucas. He was a short, chubby boy with wide blue eyes and curly light brown hair. Although he was never outright malicious, he would follow along with the others whenever they made fun of Samuel's faulty powers.

Now, the shorter boy had a plate in his hand and he sat it down on the ground in front of Samuel. It had a slice of plain, white bread on it.

"LeGraine said you should eat something," he said and took a step back.

Samuel didn't move.

"M'not hungry."

The other boy didn't respond, he simply turned on his heel and nearly ran up the stairs, slamming the door behind him.

Samuel sighed and closed his eyes again. He shivered, cold, his back against the stone wall and his cheek resting on the dirt floor.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota-1999

Dean gasped awake, his head searing with pain and stumbled from his bed.

"Dad!" he called and John sat up instantly.

"What's wrong?"

Dean reached out and flicked on the lamp that sat on the nightstand between the beds. He sat down on the edge of his mattress and ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

"I… I… had a nightmare," he muttered, saying it out loud made him feel stupid.

John raised an eyebrow, "A nightmare?"

Dean nodded and let out a breath, "I saw… something."

"What? Dean, can't this wait until the morning?" John asked tiredly.

"Yeah, I guess," Dean admitted, "Sorry I woke you."

John grunted and lay down again, his back facing his eldest son.

Dean remained sitting. He rubbed at the spot between his eyes, trying to recall what he had seen but the image was quickly slipping away. Shrugging, Dean decided that he had just been having a bad dream and turned out the light.

W

The next morning, as Dean drank his coffee and searched the Internet on Bobby's old, grey computer, he was certain that he had had a nightmare and nothing more.

There seemed to be no strange occurances or demonic omens around Maine- the state where the Winchesters had last been with Samuel- so Dean decided to branch out.

There's gotta be something, he thought almost desperately, knowing it wasn't necessarily true.

The first time Sam had been abducted, there had been no signs, no trail to follow either.

"This isn't getting us anywhere, Bobby," Dean lamented, "There has to be something else."

The grizzled hunter looked up from the stack of newspapers he and John were sorting through.

"I ain't a miracle worker, son," he said gruffly, "I wish I was but I can only do so much. I can't find a beastie if there's no trail left to follow."

Dean nodded. Again, a wave of guilt washed over him.

I should have been looking out for Sammy.

Dean turned back to the computer screen, staring despondently, hopelessly at the news article he was reading that turned out to be yet another dead end.

"The School," State Unknown-1999

Samuel covered his face with his hands, his left eye already beginning to swell shut and staggered back against the wall.

"Not going to fight back?" Ansen taunted as Jacob advanced on Samuel again.

The teen shook his head, raising his hands to fend off the next blow.

The others just laughed at his pathetic attempts at self-defense.

"Why don't you use your powers, hm? Ansen sneered, eyes glinting cruelly.

Samuel grunted when Jacob shoved him into the wall, forearm across his throat. Jacob punched Samuel again, splitting his lip. Tears rolled down Samuel's face as he gasped for air, trying to pry the other boy's arm away from his neck.

Jacob dropped Samuel and he landed on his hands and knees.

"P-please stop," Samuel choked, wiping blood away from his chin, "I n-never did anything to you."

The last thing Samuel saw before passing out was Jacob's foot flying towards his face.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota-1999

"Son of a-" Dean exclaimed, raising his hands to his head and knocking his chair over as he stood, "Gah!"

"Dean! What's wrong?" John grabbed his son's shoulder and squeezed.

Dean could barely open his eyes; the pain was so bad. He leaned over and threw up.

John steered his son to the couch and had Dean sit down. Bobby hovered just behind the younger man, concern etched on his features.

"Dean? Can you hear me?" John asked and Dean nodded, his face pale and sweaty.

"What was that?" Bobby wondered out loud. Dean swallowed thickly and blinked as though the light in the living room hurt his eyes.

"I… I saw…" he shook his head and rubbed at the spot between his eyes, "A cellar… I think… It looked like it."

John's eyebrows furrowed, "A cellar?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, it looked really old… stone walls… dirt floor, the whole shebang."

John and Bobby shared a looked. Stress. Dean was cracking. This was too much for him.

"Maybe you should lie down for a bit, son," Bobby suggested but Dean stood suddenly and began pacing.

"Dean?" John called his son's name but the young man ignored him.

"I don't think I was alone," Dean muttered, speaking mostly to himself, "It felt like there were other people there. Standing over me. Damn it! Why can't I remember?"

"What are you talking about? What's going on?" John asked, confused and worried for his son.

Dean rounded on him, frustration clear on his face, "I told you! I saw some sort of a basement and there were other people there! I don't remember what their faces looked like but I… I felt like I knew them somehow."

John looked to Bobby for an explanation. Calmly, Bobby clear his throat, "Has Dean ever experienced visions before?"

"Visions? What? No, of course not! Why?" the father growled.

Dean had stopped pacing and was staring at Bobby.

"What do you mean? Like ESPN or something?"

The grizzled hunter sighed, "It's probably just stress, son. You should take a break."

"I am not stressed!" Dean snapped; both John and Bobby looked unconvinced.

"Forget it," he muttered, "I'm going for a drive, I'll see you later."

"Dean, wait-" John called but his son was already out the door, the Impala's engine revving loudly.

"The School," State Unkown-1999

Samuel glanced up listlessly, not even caring that LeGraine was staring down at him.

"You had so much potential," the man commented, "What a waste."

The boy closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota-1999

Dean was glad he had stopped at a local bar for a drink when his head suddenly felt as though it had split open.

He dropped his glass- it smashed on the floor- and grabbed his head, crying out in pain.

"The hell's wrong with you?" the male bartender shouted and Dean staggered away from the counter.

"Hey! You gotta pay for that!"

Dean was already out the door, leaning against the Impala, nearly panting.

He had seen it again- that cellar- and once again he had not been alone. He had had a clear view of the other presence in the room this time. It had been a man, standing over him, a sneer on his face.

Dean blinked. The man seemed so familiar but Dean was sure he had never met him in his life.

Covering his eyes with one hand, Dean concentrated, trying to recall where he could have seen the stranger before.

W

Dean ran into Bobby's house, nearly panicking.

"Dad! DAD! BOBBY!" he cried, his heart pounding as he searched the empty living room.

"Dean, what's gotten into you?" the grizzled hunter stepped out from the kitchen, "Jesus, you look like you've just seen a ghost. What's the matter?"

"I… I think I might know who has Sam…"

Bobby stared dumbfounded at the younger man.

"Where's Dad?"

"Went out looking for you. I'll rein him in."

Dean followed Bobby into the kitchen and sat down at the table, fingers tapping nervously.

After the veteran hunter had finished calling John, he turned to the younger man, "Wanna explain?"

"I had another… another-"

"Vision?" Bobby offered, arms crossed over his chest.

"Yeah, vision," Dean agreed, "And I saw this guy. I knew I had seen him somewhere before but I didn't know exactly where until I started driving back."

Bobby waited patiently for Dean to continue. The young man explained how, after Samuel had told them he recognized Mary Winchester as the woman from his dreams, they had driven back to the motel room.

"There was some idiot standing in the middle of the road," Dean said, "I thought he was just some drunk or something. I didn't pay much attention to him… I guess I should have. He's the guy I saw in that cellar in my vision Bobby; I think he's the one who has Sam."

"That's one hell of a neat trick," the grizzled hunter said, "Sure nothing like this has never happened before?"

Dean shook his head, "I rarely even get headaches."

Bobby scratched his beard thoughtfully for a moment.

"How could I see that cellar though? I'm certain I've never been there, so why do I feel as though I have?" Dean asked.

"It might not be you after all," the older hunter told him and Dean was about to ask what he was talking about when John stepped inside.

"Dean, what's going on?"

The son reiterated everything he had told Bobby and as he spoke he could see his father's look of disbelief grow.

"Bobby? Dean can't be some kind of… of psychic, could he?" John asked, glancing somewhat warily at his son.

The older hunter shook his head, "Nah, psychic abilities show up in children when they're but tots."

The father looked relieved. Although the hunting community did not consider psychics 'evil', the last thing the Winchesters needed was another complication in their lives.

"What's happening then?" John asked, curiously.

"I think it might be Samuel," Bobby told them, "What he's seeing."

Dean's mouth dropped open. His baby brother was being held prisoner in some dank cellar, perhaps even being hurt at that very moment.

"The boy's the psychic? Why didn't he say anything to us?" John asked.

Bobby rolled his eyes, "He didn't know you two. I don't know too many true psychics who flaunt their ability around like some damn neon sign."

"Is there anyway we can figure out where Sam is from the visions?" Dean asked hopefully.

Bobby sighed, "Unless you see something particularly unique about where he's being held, the chances of finding Sam are still slim to none."

Dean deflated. He was a failure; Sam was calling out for help and he couldn't save him. Again.

John though, still seemed to be stuck on the idea that his youngest son was psychic.

"What would demons want with a psychic?"

Bobby shrugged, "You can ask once we find Sam."

If, Dean corrected silently, if we find him.

"The School," State Unknown-1999

Samuel opened his eyes slowly- the swollen one barely wanting to cooperate- and pulled himself up on his elbows. Blood had leaked down his chin from his split lip and dried there, flaking off when he rubbed at it.

The side of his head ached terribly and when Samuel lifted his hand to his temple, his fingers came away sticky with blood.

The teen closed his eyes as nausea bubbled up in his stomach and he leaned forward, vomiting up bile. Groaning miserably, Samuel wiped his hand across his mouth, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste.

Sighing sadly, the teen settled down again, trying as best he could to find a comfortable position on the hard earthen ground and stared blankly at the stone wall across from him until his eyes slipped closed again.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota-1999

Dean stumbled against the counter, his head searing with pain as the vision blossomed in his mind's eye.

"Dean!" he heard his father's voice cry out at the same time as Bobby called, "Son! Y'all right?"

Dean curled inwards, hands grabbing at his short-cropped hair, almost pulling it out.

He gasped and sank to his knees, exhausted and shaken. Panting for breath, Dean squinted up at the two concerned faces peering at him.

"Are you alright, Dean?" John asked worriedly, he gripped one of Dean's arms and heaved him onto his feet, "What… what did you see?"

Sighing audibly, Dean shook his head, "Nothing that will help us find Sammy."

"What did you see?" Bobby spoke up.

Dean moved across the kitchen and sat down at the table, propping his head up with his hand on his brow.

"Just a… wall… a blank stone wall," he replied tiredly.

Bobby rubbed his bearded chin for a moment, thinking. John glanced at his friend, a confused look on his face.

"What kind of stone?" the veteran hunter asked.

"I don't know, Bobby," Dean muttered.

"Well, bricks or natural stone," Bobby elaborated, "Like sommat that would come from the ground."

"Natural?" Dean said, unsure.

"What colour?"

"Where's this going Bobby?" John asked.

"Hold on a minute," the older hunter grumbled, "What colour, Dean?"

"Uh…" the young man squeezed his eyes shut, one hand fisted against his forehead to help him concentrate.

"C'mon boy!" Bobby urged.

"Grey!" Dean almost snapped, "They were big… watermelon-sized, and kind of grey… or maybe black."

"Hmm," Bobby squinted his eyes, "That's good."

Both Winchesters looked expectantly at him but the veteran hunter did not reply, instead he walked into the living room and sat down at his computer, typing furiously.

Dean and John followed the other man, peering over his shoulder at the screen.

"Wanna tell us what this is about?" John asked.

Bobby sighed, "Look, there are some types of stones that are more common to certain States. I'm thinking that with a description of the stones the basement is made up of, we can figure out a rough area of where the boy may be."

Dean's eyes lit up, "That's great! Where is he, Bobby? You gotta know!"

"I'm not sayin' its exact, son, but it's worth a shot trying," the grizzled hunter explained and turned his attention back to the computer screen.

Dean glanced at his father from the corner of his eye when he felt John's hand rest on his shoulder.

W

"Pennsylvania!" Bobby announced, startling the Winchesters who had wandered into the kitchen for coffee.

"We were so close!" Dean exclaimed, frustrated.

"Do you know where, exactly?" John asked and Bobby nodded.

"Eastern part of the State," the grizzled hunter replied.

"That narrows it down," John grumbled but Dean didn't look discouraged.

"C'mon, let's go!" he urged, "We have to go!"

"Hold on, son," Bobby held up a hand, "Calm down. That's a lot of area to cover."

Dean's hazel eyes swam with unshed tears, "Please, we have to find him; we have to find Sammy."

Bobby nodded, "I'll call around, see if there's been any demon signs in eastern Pennsylvania recently."

Hold on, Sammy, Dean thought, we're coming for you.

"The School," Pennsylvania-1999

Samuel struggled weakly as LeGraine dragged him up the wooden staircase, his hand gripping the collar of the boy's shirt. The man deposited the teen at the top of the staircase and moved further into the kitchen, an irritated expression on his face.

Samuel stared at the wooden floorboards, wondering what was going to happen to him now, when LeGraine yanked him up once again, onto his feet this time and shoved him towards the table.

Confused, the young man sat in the chair the man pushed him into. He looked up at LeGraine as the man set a plate in front of him.

"Eat," LeGraine demanded.

Samuel glanced down and saw a slice of plain white bread on the plate.

"Why?" he asked, looking the man straight in the eye, "So the others can keep torturing me?"

"Your punishment is not over," LeGraine told him calmly, "We wouldn't want you to lose you too soon."

Samuel didn't move. He jumped when LeGraine slammed his fist down on the table, "EAT!"

"I'm not hungry."

Both the boy and the man startled when the front door slammed open and footsteps ran down the hallway towards them. LeGraine stood up; anger etched on his features, and headed towards the doorway only to stagger and fall back, a gunshot wound in his chest.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota (20 hours earlier)-1999

"There's a small town called Emmaus that looks promising," Bobby told the anxious Winchesters.

"It's mostly farmland out there and they've had the highest rate of unusual livestock births for the past dozen or so years," the grizzled hunter continued.

"Unusual? Stillbirths?" John asked and Bobby nodded, "Calves and lambs were also born with two heads and the such."

"Let's go! Sam's gotta be there!" Dean tugged on his father's arm and John stood up, looking at his old friend.

"You coming?"

Bobby shook his head, "I'll stay here in case anyone else needs me. Just, promise me you'll bring Sam here when you get 'im."

John nodded as Dean dragged him out the door to the Impala.

"Let me just grab some things from the truck, Dean," John told his son as Dean climbed into the classic Chevy's driver's seat and tapped his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel.

As soon as he father climbed into the passenger seat, before John had even buckled his seatbelt or closed the door, Dean was pulling down the driveway, intent on one thing: rescuing his brother.

Emmaus, Pennsylvania (20 hours later)-1999

"Here! Here! Hey, stop the car!" Dean exclaimed and the eldest Winchester reluctantly let up on the gas.

John looked tiredly through the windshield at the dilapidated farmhouse they were parked in front of. It didn't look like anyone had lived there for years.

"You sure this is it?" he asked his son and Dean nodded.

"Yeah," the younger man assured him, "My Spidey-Sense is tingling."

In a more serious tone, Dean continued, "See that house? The stones look really familiar. Like the ones in my vision."

"Okay," John said, almost sighing and nodded, "Let's just park out of sight a bit."

Dean eased the Impala down the road a bit so that they couldn't see the farmhouse or barn from their position. Turning off the car, he made his way to the trunk and unlocked it. Father and son grabbed the necessary weapons- salt, holy water, spray paint for Devil's Traps, and, of course, guns- before walking up the dusty, dirt drive.

It was late evening and the sun was almost completely set, the sky a dark plum colour to the east and an orange-pink to the west.

Both Winchesters paused when they came to the farmhouse. Dean wondered if one of them should check out the barn. He was beginning to think that maybe it was a dead-end when he heard a shout come from inside the house.

At a slight nod from his father, Dean pulled his gun from his jacket pocket, slipped the safety off and shoved open the front door.

Dean couldn't have told anyone a single detail of the interior of the house as he ran down the hallway, his boots thumping loudly against the hardwood floor, so focused was he on getting to his brother.

Both Dean and John followed the sound of the voice and found a small, tidy kitchen, and a man rushing towards them with pitch black eyes.

John squeezed off a shot- the discharge quieted by a silencer- and the man fell backwards. Before anyone could move, thick black smoke pushed itself from the man's mouth and flew, spiraling up to the ceiling to disappear in a crackle of lightning.

The teenage boy sitting at the table was staring down at the fallen man in shock, his face as pale as milk.

"Sammy!" Dean cried and stepped over the dead man, hurrying to his brother's side.

"D-Dean?" Samuel asked and the older boy nodded.

"Everything's going to be alright," Dean assured him, "Jesus Christ, what did that bastard do to you?"

"Dean! We should get out of here," John's voice reminded Dean that they might not yet be safe.

"Sammy? Samuel. Is there anyone else here?" Dean asked and carefully took hold of his brother's elbow, steering him away from the chair.

Samuel nodded and reached up to brush his bangs away from his eyes.

"Th-the others," he muttered, "And… Truefold. S-she'll be here too."

Deciding that it was best to deal with Samuel first and the rest of the demons later, John helped Dean lead him down the hallway.

"I- I didn't s-say anything… about you," Samuel whispered and John nodded.

"You did good, son."

The eldest Winchester paused, catching his oldest boy looking at him from the corner of his eye but said nothing.

W

Although tense and anticipating a confrontation, the Winchesters met no one during their flight down the driveway. Dean wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not but decided it best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He helped Samuel into the backseat of the Impala, trying to make him as comfortable as possible and climbed into the driver's seat while John took the passenger's.

"Let's get the hell out of here," John announced and Dean nodded, flooring the gas pedal and speeding down the street and as far away from the old farmhouse as quickly as possible.

W

Ansen gritted his teeth as his eyes tracked the two men leading Samuel away from the School. He moved forwards, about to slip between the barn's double doors when he felt Truefold's hand on his shoulder.

"Leave him," she instructed, her lips a thin line.

"But he's getting away!" Jacob argued, taking Ansen's side.

The woman glared at the two teens, "He will return to us soon enough, we just have to be patient."

"Where's LeGraine?" Brianne asked anxiously, "Is he okay?"

Truefold nodded, "He will be alright, and he will be back, though he may not look as he once did."

The special children all turned curious expressions on the woman but she said no more.

"We can't stay here anymore, can we?" Ava asked and Truefold shook her head.

Ansen turned back to watch the Winchesters, his hands clenching into fists.

Samuel was going to pay; that was it. He had betrayed them for the last time. The next time he showed his face, he was dead

Author's Note:

1. Chapter title comes form an Iron Maiden song of the same name.

2. Thanks to help789, cold kagome, L.A.H.H, mb64, sarah, Demon2Angel, SPN Mum, BranchSuper, SamDeanLover28, MysteryMadchen, Souless666, where the wind blows, FireInMyHeart13 and Guest for reviewing.

3. Thanks to everyone who alerted, favourited and followed.

4. Please leave a review.