Legalities: Supernatural belongs to Eric Cripke and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this. I am simply playing in the amazing sandbox that is the Supernatural Universe.

Warnings: This is my take on what would have been bad enough to send Sam into a confessional as a child. Taken from a comment made by Sam in the season 8 finale "Sacrifice".

It's unabashed hurt Winchester. Dean suffers because of a choice that Sam makes in a moment of selfish anger. Will he get the chance to make things right before Dean is destroyed forever? Can their father put aside his own obsessive anger and his need to hunt long enough to track down both Sam and Dean? Or will his obsession destroy his sons.

If you do not like the violence, then DO NOT read this story. It revolves around the brothers and their relationship and this idea wouldn't leave me alone. So here is my take on the one and only time Sam confessed his greatest sins.

I do not have a Beta, so all mistakes are mine and own them fully.

Rating: T with possible upgrade to MA at a later point if it takes a really dark turn.

NO SLASH/ BROTHERLY LOVE AND FAMILY ANGST ONLY

Please Review if you want to see this one continue.

Chapter Two

Gilded Cage

John Winchester was beyond irritated. He was about an hour outside of Butte, Montana and he still hadn't heard from either of his sons. He'd spoken with Dean earlier on Monday, but that was the last contact he'd had with his boys. Sam wasn't answering his phone and Dean wasn't picking up either…and while it wasn't unusual for Sam to ignore his call, Dean would never do that. He knew better. But that wasn't what had John hauling ass toward Montana, it was the sick twisted feeling deep in his gut. The one that was telling him there was something seriously wrong. A part of him chalked that up to Mary and her desire to keep their sons safe. It was comforting somehow to think that his beloved wife was still watching over Dean and Sammy.

That same feeling had sent him racing back to a motel when Dean had been nine and Sammy was only five. And luckily he'd learned to listen to his gut years ago, because he probably would have lost both his sons to that Stritga if he hadn't. The truck was silent, only the steady hum of the tires on pavement kept it from being completely void of sound. Normally John was rocking some classic tunes, but not today. He was worried and he didn't want to even chance that he might miss a call from his boys.

His blue eyes slid over to the cell phone sitting silently on the seat next to him and he groaned at the traitorously silent little device. What the hell had his sons gotten themselves into now. After a moment of contemplation John snatched up the device and dialed Bobby Singer's number. It might be that nothing was wrong…and God help my sons if that's the case. But it might be something serious had happened and frankly he could use the help.

Bobby answered after two rings. "Singer salvage yard." The gruff voice of the older hunter made John smile. Neither one of them was very good about avoiding the whiskey bottle…and it showed in their rough-around-the-edges nature.

"Bobby? Hey it's John." He flipped on the blinker and turned up the long winding road that would end in the tiny town of Butte.

A momentary silence told John that he'd surprised his friend and that Bobby was running through every idea he had as to why John was calling him. "Yup. Unless you dialed the wrong number. Now what's wrong?"

John pulled in a breath and plowed forward. "Any chance you can meet me in Montana?"

Bobby sank into a chair near the kitchen table and ran his hand through his hair. He couldn't remember the last time that John Winchester had asked for help on anything but research…or with the boys. That thought sent tendrils of fear trickling down his spine like ice water. "I can. What's going on, John?"

"Maybe nothing…I don't know. Haven't heard from the boys for two days and that's not normal." He took a deep breath. "I got a bad feeling, Bobby."

The older hunter blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It is the boys. Damn-it. He known those two since Dean had been about five years old and John had shown up on his doorstep looking for answers. His heart sank at the thought that something might be wrong with either Sam or Dean. "I'll be there tomorrow. Wanna be more specific about where in Montana? Big state."

"Butte. The Mountain View Motel off Canyon road."

"I'll be there…John?"

"Yeah?"

Bobby wanted to ask if it might be something of a supernatural nature. But he couldn't bring himself to even think the thoughts, let alone voice them. "Nevermind…I'll see you then."

"Thank you." John said before he disconnected the call.

XXXX

Dean felt the bumps of hard cold stone before he could see anything. His shoulders were on fire and he couldn't feel his hand. Must have been laying on it. He realized when he carefully opened and closed his fist a few times and the feeling returned slowly, the uncomfortable pins and needles sensation flowing through it. His eyes ached which meant that his vision was probably blurry, not that he could see much of anything in the complete blackness. And he was still trying to clear the rummy feeling from his head; he shook his head in an effort to speed up the process, bad plan. "Oh god that sucked out loud." He moaned as he rolled up into a seated position. He reached up and ran his hand along the back of his head and groaned when it came away sticky. Blood. Which also mean that he was probably suffering from at least a mild concussion. Never a good thing.

"Awesome." He mumbled in irritation. Dean stretched a bit and pain shot through his back and side. The bat that had hit him in the side was the first clear memory he got back…probably because it was associated with the pain. His memory started to slowly clear up and he remembered the fight at the school…when he'd been searching for Sam. Ah shit…Sammy.

The memory that his little brother was missing had him trying to lurch upright despite the protests from his body. His swore when his head slammed into the top of a cage and he sank quickly back to the floor. "Seriously?" He complained. He looked around the now dimly lit area. "What the hell?"

The cage was maybe four feet by four feet. Not big enough to do much of anything, but definitely big enough to hold him like a dog. He didn't much appreciate that thought… There didn't appear to be a gate or a door…so how the hell had he gotten in here? They hadn't built the thing around him… He scanned the area just outside the cage. There was nothing. He was alone. No other cages were within eyesight of where he was. Dean squinted when he saw something fuzzy off in the distance. His vision was blurring in and out of focus, he blinked a few more times and something that resembled a boxing ring came into view. But with some changes. The thing was surrounded by razor wire and there was what looked like chain ling all around it, but it was attached to wires running along the top.

What type of ring he didn't know. The light wasn't good enough for him to clearly identify much more than that.

"Hello?" He called as he looked around. Nothing. No answer. "Hey it's customary to at least offer a turn down service. All the five star motels are doing it now." He sighed and shifted again when his side lit up in pain. "Damn-it." A sudden crackle floated through the chilly air and Dean found himself spinning his head like it was on a swivel trying identify the source.

"Welcome to the fight, Dean Winchester." A male voice boomed through the small cage.

"What the hell does that mean?" He waited and there was no answer. So Dean tried a different tactic. "You have me at a disadvantage." He shot back. "Care to come into the light?" Green eyes panned the small area again and he shook his head when he didn't see anything. "Man you grabbed the wrong person."

"I don't think so." The voice boomed again. "Dean Winchester, suspended for fighting. Dean Winchester, expelled for fighting. Oh no…I think I grab exactly the right person. You're far more interesting than Sam anyways."

At the mention of Sam, Dean's big brother mode went into high gear. "You touch my brother and I'll kill you."

"I believe you would. Which is why you were chosen." The voice answered back.

Dean rolled his eyes and let his anger settle for a moment before spouting off with more snarky comments. "So I get in a lot of fights. That a crime or something?" He ignored the fact that his head told him that 'yeah it kinda is a crime'. "You gonna explain why I'm here? Or am I supposed to just divine it out of the stone?"

"Funny. I heard you were a sarcastic little shit. Glad to see the rumors…for once are true." The voice never changed pitch or switched directions. Which meant that it was coming from some sort of speaker above him.

"So did I win some type of lottery or something? Cuz I don't remember buying a ticket." Dean knew that he was pushing his luck, but he need more information and the only way he was going to get it was to keep this asshat talking.

"Something like that." The room flooded with hazy grey gas and Dean felt his vision blurring out of focus as his head started to pound like he'd gotten tossed under a stampede of wild cattle. The room sank into blackness and he pitched forward as his brain started to shut down, he managed to catch himself before his head slammed into the bars of the cage. His side lit up in fire again and he groaned when he was reminded of his rough treatment so far.

Before he completely lost his grasp on reality he screamed into the darkness. "What the fuck do you want?!" And then his consciousness slipped away and he tumbled forward landing in a heap on the stone floor of the cage.

"A fighter." The voice answered to the unconscious Winchester.

XXXX

Sam was staying in the room next to his and Deans. He'd had the best day ever. He'd gone to school and no one had bothered him, Dean hadn't even come looking for him. And while that should have set off the alarms in his head, he chalked it up to his lucky day.

The Impala hadn' t been at the motel when he'd walked by after school, so he'd decided to stay there thinking that Dean must have already headed toward their father. After all, he'd left that note for Dean…

Dean, going to do my own thing for a couple days. Will hitch a ride to Spokane. Don't worry I'm fine. Sam.

Of course he'd kinda hidden that note, so what if Dean hadn't actually found it? And if that was the case then where was his older brother. Something else that should have occurred to Sam was the fact that Dean would never leave town without him…not if a million years.

The motel manager had thought it weird that they needed the second room and that Sam had paid with cash. Cash that he'd stolen from Dean's emergency stash…but this was an emergency. Just not the by Dean's definition. But the manager had ignored his own concerns when Sam dropped a fifty on the counter, which the man promptly pocketed. The walls in these motels were thin, like paper thin, so he heard it the moment his father started talking in the room next to his.

He sat up in bed and pulled the covers closer around his shoulders. His father sounded seriously pissed and he was talking to someone…oh shit, Bobby. Why the hell would he call in Bobby? That had the youngest Winchester wondering where the heck Dean was? He gulped when it occurred to him that something could have happened to his older brother…while he was out looking for Sam. He leaned his ear against the wall in an attempt to hear what the two men were saying, but all he got was a muffled rumble. There was a momentary debate before he decided that it was more important to find out what was going on than to continue hiding from their father…or Dean.

Sam swung his legs out of the bed and bit at his lower lip as he debated on getting dressed or just heading over dressed as he was. Apparently he hadn't thought this out as well as he should have. He reached over and flipped on the lamp near the bed. The hideously decorated room lit up in pale yellow light. The sage green clashing with the bright orange. The smell of stale cigarettes wafted through the air and his nose wrinkled at it…before he made his decision. He wanted freedom yes…but not at the expense of his brother's life. Sam pulled in a deep breath and gathered his bag of belongings.

This is really gonna suck. He thought as he slipped his shoes on and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. After a moment of courage gathering he stepped out into the cold night air and walked the twenty feet to the next room. His hand shook as he lifted his knuckles to knock. One. Two. Three…and the door was jerked open from the inside.

Bobby's face lit up in shock. "Sam." He breathed.

John stomped around the corner and stared at his son, the disappointment written clearly in the weathered lines of his face. His blue eyes flickered up and out the door. He was looking for Dean. "Where's your brother?"

Sam titled his head to the side and shrugged. He'd figured that Dean had called their father and that's why he was back in Butte. But as he looked at the expression on that man's face he felt own curiosity about where his older might be peak. "Figured he'd be with you." Sam mumbled.

"Speak up, Sam." John said coldly. His shrewd gaze missed nothing and he put together what had happened in a moment. Sam had tried to run away and Dean had gone looking for him with the hope that John would never find out. The guilt was nearly pouring off his youngest son and the fully pack duffelbag he carried gave him away. "What were you thinking?" John finally breathed.

Bobby's gaze was jumping back and forth between father and son.

"I was thinking that I wanted to have a life that didn't involve hunting…just for a few days." Sam said. His head was tilted forward and his long bangs slid over his eyes.

Bobby shook his head. This wasn't going to be fun. Before John could blow up at the kid Bobby stepped forward. "How about I go get us some breakfast." He looked over at the youth standing in the doorway. "And you can talk with Sam?"

John simply nodded and Bobby slipped from the uncomfortable room.

Sam finally lifted his eyes and stepped inside the room, carefully shutting the door behind him. He trudged over to the bed that had been his and dropped his bag on it before sinking down and folding his hands in his lap. He was ready for a fight, or a beating, he wasn't sure which one this type of action would trigger in his father. What he wasn't ready for was John sinking to his knees in front of him and pulling him into a desperate hug. Sam could feel the shuddering breaths as they rolled through the man and he couldn't help it when his own arms lifted and hugged back.

They sat like that for several minutes before John finally released Sam and sank back to he was seated on the floor in front of his boy. "Sam…don't do that again." He said softly. It had only been two days, but that was enough for him to know that he was scared to death to lose either one of these boys.

Sam nodded. "Where's Dean at?" He finally asked.

John shook his head and blew out a long breath. "I don't know. Can't get ahold of him." His blue eyes tracked back up and met the slowly widening blue-green of Sam's gaze.

"You don't know?" He had never expected that. "So what do we do now?" Something that felt uncomfortably like survivor's guilt uncoiled in his gut and Sam slumped forward. He'd done this. He'd run off and his brother had gone looking for him and now he was missing…and they had no clues.

"When was the last time you saw him?" John asked. He pushed himself up from the floor and moved to the coffee maker on the counter.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "About three in the morning…two days ago."

John spun around and stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He sipped at the black liquid and crossed his long legs at the ankles as he leaned against the counter. "What else?"

"He came back to the motel…he was here for about an hour and then he took off again." Sam's words were soft and he wouldn't look his father in the eye.

"You were watching him?" The idea that Sam would knowingly put his older brother through that type of torment was beyond John. Didn't the kid understand what that would do to Dean? Apparently not…but John did.

"I just wanted a few days, that's all…there was this science fair and I got accepted and…" His words drifted off when he finally looked up at his father. John was staring at him with something akin to confused repulsion.

"You let your brother think that something had happened to you for a science project?" Again he didn't yell and Sam almost wished that he would. Because this calm rational version of their father was far scarier than the angry one. John shook his head and set the coffee down, taking a step toward Sam in the process. "Don't you know your brother at all?"

That got Sam's attention. Of course he knew his brother. "What?"

"Sammy, Dean watches out for you. That's his job, it's what he does…it's who he is." John ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair and sank down onto the bed across from Sam so he could see him clearly. "He loves you and he wants you to be safe."

Sam's breathing hitched as emotions rolled up into his throat and threatened to choke him.

"You used that against him…and now we have no idea where he is." John's voice dropped on the last part and Sam's eyes filled with tears.

He'd never thought of it like that. The last thing that Sam wanted to do was hurt his older brother. But the science fair had been such a big deal for him…but as he weighed it against his making his brother feel the way he felt right now…it wasn't worth it. "Maybe we can try the school?" Sam asked softly.

"The school?" John repeated as he stood up and grabbed his jacket.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, he was supposed to pick me up. Maybe they know where he went after…" He choked on the words.

"After you ditched him." John finished.

XXXX

The next time Dean came too his stomach was the first thing to scream at him. He was starving. The second thing that he noticed was the pounding headache. He ignored it and forced himself to sit up and lean against the bars. The room was more brightly lit this time and he was able to make out other cages. Some of them had bodies in them and some of them were still empty.

Dean took a deep breath and regretted it when his ribs complained. He needed to take stock of his situation. He stretched through his body. Okay, ribs are bruised. Head hurts like hell, but it's manageable. Dean's gaze dropped to his hands and he groaned. My knuckles are sore and bruised and my knee is tweaking a bit. All in all he wasn't in terrible condition, but he wasn't one hundred percent either. He swallowed and winced at the scratchy feeling in his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had water…or food…his stomach reminded him with a grumble.

Footsteps in stone had him spinning his head to see who was coming. He furrowed his eyebrows when he finally make out the face of the school teacher. The guy was carrying a tray of food and large bottle of water. He set them near Dean's cage and stared at him.

"You know they charge admission for that in most circus's?" Dean blurted out. His eyes falling lower to the sandwich and most of all the water. "That for me?"

The man nodded and stepped back.

"So what happens now?" Dean asked as he moved to grab the tray and spun the top off the water gulping down large quantities before moving to the sandwich. It was just peanut butter and jelly, but he hadn't tasted something so awesome in a long time. Probably because he was starving and would have eaten just about anything at the moment.

"Now you train, then you fight." The man said as he continued to stare at Dean.

The middle Winchester snorted. "I'm not gonna fight for you like some trained monkey."

The brown eyes narrowed. "Yes you will." He leaned in closer. "Or I will bring in Sam."

At the mention of Sam, Dean's appetite disappeared. He stared at the man and his expression shifted from one of irritated curiosity to one of murder. "You touch my brother and I will kill you all." He ground out through clenched teeth.

The man simply smiled and applauded softly. "That's the fight I want to see. You fight and you win…and you might see that little geek again." But then he stepped forward again and for the first time Dean noticed that he was carrying some sort of stick. The end lit up with electricity and Dean knew immediately that that wasn't a stick…it was a cattle prod. He tried to scramble away from the device, but he wasn't quick enough and he only had so many places to go in the small cage.

The sparking blue end jammed into his stomach. The half eaten sandwich spilled to the floor and Dean doubled over as pain engulfed him. Every nerve fired up and his muscles contracted painfully. White teeth clenched together without him even thinking about it. He could feel where the heat was building up at the point of contact and his clothing was starting to singe. The moment the small device touched skin Dean screamed. It was like laying his hand on a red-hot burner. Except that he couldn't remove his body from the source of the pain.

The man watched with detached interest as Dean convulsed, his eyes rolling back into his head. This kid was going to be fun to break…and then he would fight or else they would get the brother. Dean had made one mistake when he'd gone into that school looking for his brother…they knew his weakness now. So if he refused to cooperate, outside of the motivational punishments…they would simply find him a more visible motivation. One that could scream and die if necessary.

As Dean lost consciousness his body still arching with the electricity the man smiled. He pulled the cattle prod out of the cage and turned to walk away. He cast one more look over his shoulder and smiled. A large hole was burned into Dean's black t-shirt, his stomach bright red where the points had made contact. They were already starting to blacken. That would be a painful reminded that Dean needed to follow orders. And if they had to keep doing this until he got that? Well that could be fun too.

TBC…

Author's Note: From the next chapter: "Sam stared at the Impala parked in the parking lot of the high school and his stomach clenched in real fear. Dean would never just leave that car parked and take off. Which meant that something had happened to his brother, while he'd been looking for Sam. And that was the moment that the guilt started. He'd done this. Somehow something had happened to Dean and it was entirely his fault. He leaned against the seat of his father's truck and swallowed his fear when he saw John stalking back toward him…and he didn't look happy."

Thank you so very much to everyone that read and reviewed the first chapter! The response was awesome. Please keep reviewing like that and I'll to post something everyday through the holidays for you. Thank you to…becca65d, Nina Ferraro, guests (several of you guys!), Dean's Worshipper, Beakers47, South of Eden, BeeBee Forthwright, Helinahandcart, Silvertayl 57, nurple-girl, babyreaper, Solaris10, silvie-winchester, apester, ajaali, WRATH77, myscout14, Purple-Soda-Art, dandy44, and the first reviewer janiekm. Thank you.

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