Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I will have to reply to them after spring break. I'm glad so many people are still interested. Thanks to Gabi as always for helping beta and writing a great conversation between Sam and Dean and John at the end of this chapter! :) This chapter deals with Sam's emotions and feelings about...well you'll see. Not much action here because I'm trying to keep the chapters shorter for quicker updates. Enjoy!

Sam woke up to the sound of Dean's music and the rumble of the Impala. He looked around blearily, remembering that they were on their way to Holton. As he checked the clock he realized it had been about an hour and a half since he last saw the time. He glanced down at his lap where his laptop still laid open, long since turned off on its own.

"Dude," Sam turned to his brother who was happily bobbing his head to the music and making his way through a box of Twinkies. "Why didn't you wake me up? I could have gotten so much more done."

Dean gave Sam a weird look. "You were dead tired, falling asleep as you were typing man." He chuckled and Sam rolled his eyes. "Besides, how much more research can you really get done on the laptop? We don't know enough information; we have to wait until we get there."

"Yeah I guess you're right." Sam replied and rubbed his eyes, trying to come out of his sleep induced haze. "Where did you get that?" He yawned, pointing to the box of Twinkies.

"About twenty minutes after you fell asleep, I stopped at a gas station. I got a sudden craving for 'em. Want one?" The older brother asked as he held the squishy cake out to Sam in an offering.

"Ugh, no. It doesn't sound appetizing after we had pancakes for breakfast. Don't you have anything relatively healthy in your stash?"

Dean shrugged and opened the wrapping and popped half of the thing into his mouth. "Ya big girl." He said through chewing. "I don't know, look for yourself. I'm sure you'll find something in there that won't ruin your girlish figure."

Sam sighed, slightly aggravated. Just because he didn't like to pig out on junk food 24/7 didn't make him a girl. He ate his fair share of junk but he liked to balance things out with eating things that wouldn't clog up his arteries. Couldn't a guy like to eat healthy food? Not according to his brother, at least. Plus, Sam had to watch his weight much more carefully than his brother. Every pound he might gain he'd have to carry with his own hands, so yeah he would rather not eat junk.

Rolling his eyes and decided to drop the subject Sam opened the glove box which was now home to Dean's glorious treats instead of his packs of cigarettes. Digging through Sam finally found something decent in a small bag of pretzels.

"I just knew you were going to choose those." Dean grinned. "That's why I bought 'em. Anyway, did you find out anything interesting about what could be killing these people? Any ideas of what it could be?"

"Well," Sam started up. "It seems like all the murders are being committed by the town's own citizens. The murderers that are found alive swear they didn't do it, that they were somewhere else at the time. There are even witnesses that claim the person was with them at the time and not near the scene of the crime."

"So how about the suspected murderers that were found dead? What killed them?" Dean questioned.

"It seems like they committed suicide. It's such a small town. Only around 3,200 people and to have so many murders happen within months is shocking people. The police department is going crazy trying to catch the murderers before they start. It's usually such a peaceful town."

Dean glanced at Sam knowingly. "Yeah, peaceful my ass."

"Dean." Sam sighed, knowing all to well what his brother was referring to and wished he would just stop. He didn't want these events from his past brought up again. "Just because one scumbag family neglected their foster kids doesn't make the whole city a bad place."

Dean shook his head, not looking away from the road this time. "Yeah? Well it does to me." His voice was thick with emotion and it shocked Sam. For the first time he realized that going back to that town wouldn't just be hard on him. Dean had seen kids bully Sam there, had been shot there and probably the worst....had watched Sam almost freeze to death. The whole town was full of memories that haunted the both of them.

Sam shook his head, trying to clear away the negative thoughts. He needed a distraction until they arrived...

"Hey Dean? How about I take over driving now. You can get some sleep."

Dean's mouth twitched, not wanting to give up driving for the same reason. But then he looked over at Sam and smiled.

"Sure thing, I could use some sleep."

Sam followed John as they entered the city and tried to keep his thoughts at bay and concentrate on the sound of his brother's snoring. As soon as the city came into view it was as if he was flashed back to his childhood, the scared lonely little boy just wanting to have a purpose in the world. The small city hadn't changed a bit from eight years in the past. There were a few new restaurants here and there and some shops had changed but other than that it was like he had been transported back into the past.

Relax Sam; this is nothing like your childhood. You're with your family to complete a case. Hell, Dean is right next to you in the car. He repeated that thought until his heartbeat returned to normal, wishing like hell that Dean would wake up already so he could have someone to talk to. He would have woken up his brother a half an hour ago, but his throat had gone dry and he was afraid that if he would have spoken, his voice would have cracked.

Just as Sam was beginning to calm down his heart went into overdrive when John pulled into the Super 8 Holton motel and he followed, the same one that they had stayed in eight years prior. But Sam's heart wasn't beating because of the bad memories but rather the good ones. This was the place where he was saved, where John and Dean took him in. The first place he truly felt at home, where he and Dean would spend the days studying for school and laughing. Where John would get pizza and play cards with him. Sam smiled, allowing the memories to fill his mind.

His dad tapped on the window just then, starling Sam out of his daydreaming and Dean out of his nap.

Sam rolled down the window as John spoke. "Sorry about coming to the same motel kiddo. This was the cheapest one and the two fancy hotels in the city that I would have let us stay in just for the heck of it aren't handicap accessible."

"It's okay Dad, really." Sam smiled and John nodded and went to get a room.

"What...where...are we?" Dean half-mumbled as he cracked his neck and blinked blearily at his surroundings out the window.

"We're in Holton." Sam replied, opening his door and waiting for Dean to wake more so he could get his wheelchair for him. "We're staying at the same motel we did before."

"Really? Hopefully the sheets are cleaner this time around." Dean yawned and rubbed his eyes. "You think they'll serve breakfast here now?"

"I hope not, all the free motel breakfasts taste like crap."

Dean stretched some more, still not getting out of the car. "Hey, they're not that bad. I like 'em."

"You like anything that's remotely edible." Sam shot back, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, so?"

"Just shut up jerk and get my chair already."

"Or I could just leave you sitting out in the car gimp." Dean winked and even as he said so, stepped out of the car.

"You wouldn't want to do that." Sam called to him. "I'd just crawl out and kick your ass."

"Yeah you would." Dean grinned as he pulled Sam's chair out and set it up. "And I know from first-hand experience to stay away from an angry gimp." He paused for a moment as Sam got himself situated. "Although you wouldn't actually be able to kick my ass, now would you?"

"Okay, now you're going to get it..." Sam reached up to punch his brother in the shoulder when their playful banter was interrupted.

"Boys!" John called out, both sons immediately stopping. Their father shook his head, trying not to laugh. "Can you two just get along for more than two minutes without bickering? Give your old man a break here."

"What are you talking about? We get along all of the time...almost anyway." Dean told him, patting Sam's shoulder and both boys offered him a cheesy smile.

John huffed, not wanting to get involved with the bantering as well. "I will never understand the sense of humor you boys have. Now come on, we have room twelve."

"Wasn't room twelve the room we switched to when Sammy started living with us?" Dean asked as John opened the door and they stepped inside.

"It looked like there were only two handicapped rooms, so it's a big possibility." Sam replied, looking around the room. It smelled just like all the other motel rooms they stayed in, musty and old but this one meant so much more. Sam could almost picture the room eight years ago and this one looked nearly identical. There was a newer TV and it looked like newer tables and he could have sworn the bed sheets hadn't been that ugly before....

"Yeah it is." John said suddenly, turning to look at his boys. "It was room twelve, this is the same room."

Dean cocked an eyebrow as he began to unpack some of their stuff. "And how do you remember that?" He threw Sam a bag of salt which the younger brother easily caught; it was his job to salt the windows and doors.

"Of course I remember." John said quickly, turning away. "I'm the one that checked in."

Sam mentally snorted. His father was worse than Dean when it came to revealing his true emotions. John didn't remember because he had to check in...he checked in at every motel they went to. He remembered because of the significance of that day, of this place. Something like that just showed Sam how much that day meant to his father and how happy it made him.

After Sam was finished John went on to place a mat that they carried with them with a devil's trap on the bottom near the door. Sam in the meantime fished out his laptop and set in on the counter. He looked curiously at a small motel broucher that was sitting atop the table.

"Oh look here Dean, your wish has come true, the motel is now serving free all-you-can-eat breakfasts everyday in the lobby." He said with a sigh.

Dean did a small fist pump as he came over and snatched the paper from Sam's hands. "Hell yes! I'll be making good use out of this."

The rest of the afternoon was just spent getting situated and looking up more information on Holton and its history. John had gone out to pick up a few newspapers in the evening and when he returned he was unusually quiet as he sat on one of the tow beds.

Sam noticed his father's behavior and how he kept looking back and forth between his sons, as if he wanted to tell them something but was almost afraid to. Dean didn't seem to notice at all, lost in his third helping of Chinese food.

Sam waited a few moments more, just to see if his father's strange behavior would change but it didn't and it was starting to creep Sam out. John was always doing something. He was never a man to just sit there and day dream, he was constantly active. Sam could say he was very similar to his father in that way, unlike Dean. The youngest Winchester figured it was better to ask than to spend so much time wondering.

"Dad what's up? You seem tense." Sam asked and spun his wheelchair around in a quick fluid motion to get a better view of his father. John looked taken aback and Dean finally stopped scraping his plate to crumbs and looked his way as well.

"Humph?" He asked, almost choking on his last bite.

"Dad's acting weird and keeps staring at us." Sam filled him in.

Dean smirked at their father. "Pervert." He chuckled and Sam expected some kind of smile or comment in response from John but all he got was silence. Dean now cocked his head in confusion.

"I just keep thinking about the last time we were here." John said suddenly. "While it was a happy time I know there were a lot of bad things as well. I guess I'm just worried about you two. Coming back to such a place is sure to bring back memories that you'd rather forget."

"What are you now, a psychologist?" Dean mumbled and snickered to himself only to receive a glare from his two family members.

"I'm serious Dean and I'm trying to be sincere, not funny." John said sternly and at once Dean's smile faltered and he nodded, understanding. "Sam, I know you lived with a foster family and never exactly told us everything that went on. I know you weren't treated well. I just wonder if all those memories get you down."

Sam suddenly felt all the pressure of the world on his shoulders as both his father and brother were staring at him with looks of worry. He really did not want to talk about these things; speaking about them would just make the memories worse. But at the same time he wanted someone to know, someone to share the burden and know the complete truth. He hadn't bothered telling his family before, just wanting to forget and move on but now the subject was rearing its ugly headlights in Sam's face and he nearly had no choice but to cave.

Deep in thought, Sam failed to notice that Dean had pulled one of the cheap chairs next to him and was sitting with a hand resting on Sam's shoulder. Dean was looking at him intently, like if he wished hard enough all of Sam's troubles would vanish with the wind.

"Sammy," John said quietly, locking eyes with his son when Sam still refused to talk. "Did your parents ever abuse you or beat you in any way?"

Sam shook his head. "No, they never laid a finger on me in a harmful way. I actually thought they loved me when I was younger. But then I grew up and out of the child phase. They loved to have babies, but the problem is that babies grow up." Sam shrugged. "They adopted more little kids and forgot about the older ones. It's right, I was left neglected, but actually that happened to all the older children. We had just to take care of ourselves. We had to prepare our own meals, which wouldn't have been bad in the first place." Sam stopped, obviously not in the mood to say more about it.

But Dean had no intention to let it go. "So?" he broached the subject.

Sam sighed. "Every time my foster parents stuffed the fridge I had to be quick. My older foster siblings Jack and Alex thought it was fun to eat it all as fast as they could and leave nothing to me. If it was too much they would hide the food somewhere else just so I couldn't get any."

"Sickin' fuckin' assholes," Deen seethed. "I should have killed them when I had the chance."

"We don't kill humans, Dean," Sam reminded him.

"Yeah, Sam." John's expression matched Dean's when he gritted his teeth. "And that's where Dean is right. He should have killed them. No wonder you were so skinny when we met you."

Sam shrugged again. "The worst thing was that the bathroom wasn't quite handicapped accessible."

"What do you mean?" Dean stared at him incredulously. "You couldn't get into the bathroom?"

"Not with my wheelchair."

"Was that the reason your foster parents forced you to use a catheter?" John asked in a thoughtful tone of voice.

"Among other things." Sam stared down at his legs.

"So what did you do?" Unintentionally, Dean 's grip on Sam's shoulder intensified until Sam grimaced with pain. Appalled, Dean loosened his grip. "I'm sorry, Sam. I…"

"It's okay, Dean." Absentmindedly, Sam rubbed his shoulder. "Most of the time I just crawled into the bathroom. I had a stool there I could use to reach the sink. Sometimes I used my foster brother's chair. Alex and Jack had some kind of office chair with wheels. It was small enough to fit through the door. They didn't want me to take it, but sometimes they allowed it." Self-consciously, Sam bit his lip again. "And sometimes they allowed it just to topple me over."

Laying his calloused hands on his son's unfeeling legs, John sighed deeply. "I'm so sorry, Sammy, that you had to live like this. If I had paid more attention when I brought Dean out of our house I would have noticed that he wasn't carrying you anymore."

"And if I hadn't dropped you in the first place…" Dean started, but Sam cut him short, his gaze wandering between his father and Dean.

"It's not your fault, dad. Neither is it your's, Dean. It just happened. I'm just glad you found me." He snorted. "Maybe I needed all this to get strong. What kind of guy would I have become with you two mother-henning over me all the time? A wimp."

"That's not true," Dean protested.

John looked at his oldest son, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. He knew it was true. Dean felt responsible for Sam being in a wheelchair and John couldn't even imagine how overprotective Dean would have acted with a disabled kid brother. Still, it didn't mean that Sam deserved the life he had been forced to live in his youth.

Confused at their father's smile, Dean changed the subject. "What did your foster parents say then? I mean they must have noticed how you were treated by those idiots. Didn't they help you or punish those two brats?"

"They said I'm old enough to fight my own fights. They said being a cripple wouldn't earn me a special treatment and I should quit being a wuss."

Dean turned to John, his nostrils flaring and his hands shaking in anger. "What do you think, dad? Does this hunt allow us the time to go and kill those bastards?"

"I'd love to have a chat with them." John looked more sad than angry. "From parent to parent." Suddenly, his eyes flashed. "And then I want to tell them what I think about them neglecting and hurting my boy like that." He stood up and started pacing the room. "I can't get it it took us eight years to have you talk about this all."

"You tried, dad," Sam reassured him. "I never wanted to talk about it. It's just so embarrassing. Must be this town and the memories that make me so talkative."

Again, Dean laid his arm around Sam's shoulders. "It's not embarrassing, Sam. At least not for you. They should be embarrassed. I wonder why those people adopted children in the first place, if they didn't want to have them."

Sam shrugged. "I think I remember hearing a neighbor talk about them and how they were unable to have children on their own. I think they might have become obsessed with kids. They kept taking in these young foster kids to make up for never getting to watch their baby grow. Or at least that's how I take it." Sam shrugged once more, not sure what to make of everything.

"Just because they might have thought that way Sammy doesn't make what they did any better." John spoke up, looking at Sam intently. "You didn't deserve to be treated like that and they should have been thrown in jail to rot for the rest of their lives. Everything that happened here should never have happened to anyone, let alone someone like you."

Sam smiled slightly. "It's okay, dad. After all, you found me which is a miracle in itself and you came at the perfect timing, which Dean knows all too well." Sam remembered lying frozen on the ground, sure to die if his brother hadn't saved him. "It's just how the events of life turn out, this is how my life played and I'm sure happy it did because I love where I am right now."

Dean looked at Sam with a sense of relief but quickly shook his head in mock disgust. "You always have something cheesy to come up with in moments like these, don't you little brother?"