Legalities: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke 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.

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 Four

Fear

"I've already been to the police station twice today." Bobby shot back at John as he pulled his cap off and slapped it against his leg in frustration. The air was chilly as the sun dropped on the third day that Dean had been missing. The weather was definitely shifting from fall into winter and the grey clouds hanging low over the horizon were a dark reminder that if Dean was outside somewhere…he could be in real trouble very soon. And they were no further along in locating the kid than they had been when Bobby had arrived.

Sam had pulled into himself like hermit crab. He was barely talking to either his father or Bobby at this point. Mostly he just sat by the window and stared out at the empty Impala parked in front of their room. He wasn't eating and he wasn't even concentrating on school at this point. Frankly, he was just existing until they found Dean. While his face was blank of emotion, his internal state was far more active. Guilt was running through him in waves and he kept replaying that moment when he'd watched Dean grab his keys and head back out into the night searching for Sam.

His dark eyebrows cut down as he considered how Dean must have been feeling…if it was anything like how Sam currently felt? It might be the cruelest thing that he'd ever done in his entire life…and he'd done it to the one person that would forgive him…and that made it so much worse. Knowing that Dean would forgive him without a second thought. Because Sam knew he didn't deserve it and it was twisting him up inside the longer he thought about it. His mind shifted to memories of when he thought his older brother had hung the moon and stars.

Sam waited on the bench at the corner for the bus, his short legs swinging in time with the song he was humming. He didn't even know the name, he just remember Dean humming it to him when he couldn't sleep. He had a Ninja Turtles backpack slung over his shoulders and a juice box in his hands. His pudgy fingers were tapping on the plastic bottle as the yellow bus pulled up and he jumped to his feet. The doors swung open with a 'whoosh' and Sam nearly danced as he waited. Several kids climbed off the bus and finally the one that he was waiting for bounded down the steps. Dean grinned when he saw his little brother waiting for him…again. He'd told Sam not to. That he should stay back at the small apartment that their father had rented, but apparently his little brother had made up his own mind. That was happening more and more often lately. Sammy questioning everything and then making an informed decision about whether or not he believed it.

The four year old ran forward and wrapped his short arms around Dean's waist and handed him the bottle of juice.

"I saved this for you." He said in that high-pitched child's voice that Dean loved. A part of the older brother had worried that when he started school that Sam would forget about him. He was grateful that he'd been wrong.

"Thanks, Sammy." Dean said as he took the juice. He pulled his own tattered backpack from his shoulders and pulled out a new book for Sam. He'd started getting the kid a book from the library every day when he learned that Sam could actually read them. A toothy grin spread across the child's face and his dimples dug into his plump cheeks as he smiled happily. He grabbed the book like it was fragile and held it against his small chest in a protective gesture that made Dean smile.

They walked back to the apartment with Dean telling Sam about his day and then listening patiently as his little brother explained what he'd done all day. Mostly Sammy watched cartoons during the day while their father did research. Dean was careful never to talk too much about what their father was up to because he didn't want Sam to know about the things that went bump in the night…not yet. If he thought that he could keep it from his baby brother for the rest of the kid's life…he would. No child should grow up knowing what Dean knew. That monsters are real.

Dean let Sam talk him into stopping off at the park near their current house. They both dropped their packs near the merry-go-round and took off at a run for the swings. Sam threw his small body into the nearest swing and giggled when Dean pretended to pout that his brother had beaten him. Secretly he was proud that Sam was so competitive.

"Push me, Dean." Sam asked as he moved and situated himself in the swing. His blue-green eyes blinked at his big brother innocently and Dean couldn't say 'no'.

He smiled and reached out to push Sam. Howls of laughter filled the air as he pushed the swing higher and higher.

Sam's chest contracted at the memory. Had he really thought that Dean would just let him go? That his older brother would just take off and let him 'hitch-hike' seven hundred miles on his own? Of course Dean would go looking for him. How could he have been so selfish? Never in his young life had Sam hated himself…it was the worst feeling in the entire world…thinking that he'd let Dean down. As he reflected back he realized that it was one-sided. Dean had never let him down…not ever.

"Sam?" John's gruff voice cut through his thoughts and Sam turned glassy eyes in his father's direction. "Come and eat some dinner." He continued softly. There was nothing that John could say to his youngest son that would make him feel better. Not until they found Dean and they all knew he was okay.

"I'm not hungry." Sam whispered and turned back toward the window. His silent vigil was starting to worry his father and Bobby had mentioned it a couple times over the last twelve hours.

Sam wasn't the only one that was worried about Dean. The longer that he remained missing with no word and zero progress on a lead the more concerned John got. He'd worked enough cases that he knew that the first forty-eight hours were the most critical. After that…the chance of getting the missing person back...alive...started going down. He hadn't mentioned that to Sam yet, but he knew that the kid was too damn smart for his own good…so chances were he'd already put that together.

"Come on son…you gotta eat. Dean wouldn't want you starving yourself." John said quietly.

"Well Dean's not here. Is he?" Sam shot back. His anger finally making an appearance. He wasn't angry at his father, he was angry at this whole situation.

"Sam." Bobby warned. He knew that John Winchester was hovering on the edge of losing it at the moment. "It ain't yer daddy's fault." He watched as the youth slumped even further.

"I know…it's mine." Sam breathed. Tears burned at the edges of his vision and he wanted to sink into the floorboards and disappear.

"We're gonna find him." Bobby said. He wasn't sure if he believed it himself, but he knew that it was what the kid needed to hear.

Sam raised misty eyes to the old hunter. "Can we go back out?" Sam's voice was soft and pleading as he shifted his gaze from Bobby to his father. He swallowed when he saw the softening in both their eyes. "Please?"

John nodded. He couldn't find his voice as his youngest son literally begged him to keep looking for his eldest son. All John had ever wanted was for these two boys to look out for one another. For them to take care of each other despite the nasty things that the world was going to throw at them. From the looks of things he'd accomplished that. He just wished that Sam had figured it out before he'd tried to hide from Dean.

"Yeah…we can take this to go." He answered as he grabbed the bucket of fried chicken and his coat.

XXXX

Dean's head was swimming in pain as he slowly moved back toward awareness. His cheek felt like maybe the guy had busted it open…he tried to shift and had the unpleasant realization that he couldn't move and that actually took precedence. His arms were spread out to the side and his legs were tied down. The weird thing was he was still lying on his back, like he was on a table or something. He groaned as he blinked several times and peered over at his wrists. Yup…he was tied down with thick ropes.

"Oh come on." He complained as he pulled at the ropes. When that proved fruitless he looked around the area. Still in the room with the ring. He sighed and shook his head at the rapidly declining nature of his life.

Dean had no idea how long he laid there. Time was losing its meaning the longer he was kept in the dark. His body ached from the forced immobile position and all he wanted was to stretch out and roll over. He looked over at the ring and he felt the first real edges of fear. There was a very good chance that he wasn't making out of this thing alive. And the idea that that might happen without him ever knowing what really happened to Sam was almost torture. His heart sank when he heard footsteps.

"Glad to see you're awake."

Josh came into view, the baseball player was smiling widely as he stared at Dean's current situation. "Got yourself into one hell of a pickle haven't you Winchester." The glint of something in his hand had Dean more concerned than the douchebag's sarcastic comment.

"Pretty sure you had something to do with it." Dean said through his teeth. He gulped when he saw the needle and syringe clearly for the first time. He hated needles… His eyes tracked it as Josh pulled another small bottle from his back pocket and filled the syringe with the cloudy liquid. "What the hell is that?"

Josh chuckled. It was a strange hollow sound and there was no actual humor in it. Dean started fighting in earnest when the kid approached him with the needle held out. "Oh it's just gonna help you fight…that's all."

"What?!" Dean chocked out. His wrists were starting to chafe and he could see the skin abrading the more he struggled against his bonds. He had no clue what was actually in that syringe, but he had no intention of finding out. "Don't…I'll fight. Come on man…" Fear was tripping through his chest when the needle descended to the vein in his arm. The pain was rippling through him in waves the harder he struggled. And the beating he'd taken in the ring and before that when they'd captured him were making every movement agony. "You sick son of a bitch! Can't beat me in a real fight? Gotta drug me first." Dean was just spitting out insults now in an attempt to piss off the guy…it seemed to be working. "Or is this because of a fucking chic?"

Josh's face was changing colors and his eyes had narrowed to slits before he jammed the needle into Dean's arm. He injected the liquid and jerked the needle out, tearing the flesh as he did. Bright red blood dribbled down Dean's elbow and dripped off the table onto the stone floor. "Don't worry Winchester…you'll get to fight."

Dean bit his lip at the intense pain that the tiny silver needle created. But it was the fiery burn of the liquid that been injected into him that made his eyes blow wide in panicked shock. Every nerve fired at the same time and pain shot through his arm and traveled along his other extremities.

The muscles in his back contorted, but the ropes kept his body rigidly straight. The tiny rational part of his brain wondered if this was what it felt like to be drawn and quartered. Cramps ran through his leg muscles and they bunched and bucked as he struggled.

He couldn't help it when he started pulling at the restraints again and his wrists started to bleed. But the worst thing was when the drug hit his brain. It locked Dean inside his own head and pulled out the worst memories he had and replayed them in vivid Technicolor. His mother dying was at the top of that list.

"No…" He breathed out as the vision morphed from Mary to Sammy. Right in front of his eyes Sam burst into flames. His blue-green eyes wide with fear and pain...and his arms reaching desperately toward Dean.

"Save me, Dean." Sam coughed. "Or kill me…" He choked out as the fire licked along his body, blackening anything that it touched. And then Sam screamed…and it was the single most awful sound that Dean had ever heard. The sound was ripped from his baby brother's body as the fire claimed its prize and he slumped in death.

Dean hadn't realized he'd been the one screaming until he tried to swallow and his throat was closed because of emotion. Tears were running down his face and he sagged against the table, his head lolling to the side in defeat. The pain was still racing through his body, but he didn't care anymore. He thought he was done as the vision faded and then…it started all over again. Again and again he watched Sam burn. It didn't matter if he squeezed his eyelids shut so tight that his head ached or stared wide-eyed at the roof above him…the images still played out clearly for him to see. He could smell the charred flesh and his nose wrinkled at the scent...he couldn't smell anything but that.

Minutes or hours later…he didn't know, Dean woke up back in the cell. He curled in on himself and covered his ears in an attempt to stop the horrible memories of Sam's screams. "Sammy…" He whispered over and over until his mind finally gave up and he slipped into restless sleep.

The teacher stepped out of the shadows and looked at Dean, the pitcher, Josh, stepped up next to him. "So that's done."

"Yup…he should be easier to control. If not…dose him again. The fight is next week and he needs to be compliant by then." The man shrugged and stepped away without another word. Josh simply nodded and stared at the ragged figure in the center of the cage.

"Shouldn't mess with other guy's girls." He muttered before walking away. The lights in the holding area flipped off and the cages were plunged into complete blackness.

XXXX

The roads were deserted as they pulled into the hospital parking lot. No one matching Dean's description had been checked in, but it was worth checking anyways. As the truck rolled to a stop Sam heaved a long slow breath and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that something might happen to his invincible older brother. Dean was the strongest person that Sam had ever met. He was well trained and a fast thinker…granted his smart mouth had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion then there were the scrappy fights when he'd been growing up…but hey, whose hasn't?

Father and son climbed from the truck and started toward the entrance of the hospital. A tall gangly guy stepped from the side of the building and watched the pair as they entered the automatic doors disappearing into the sterile environment. He started to follow and then stopped when he saw a third older guy follow them inside. The man slipped around the corner of the building his chest heaving with anxiety. The boss would kill him if he even knew about this. But he was so tired to seeing these young men die…or worse, the ones that don't die and wind up a slobbering mess in the mental ward. He couldn't have another one of them on his conscience. Especially not one who had family that obviously loved him and wanted him back.

John saw the man following them before Sam. He motioned for Sam to stop and silently pointed over his shoulder and then down at the bottom of his shoe. We're being followed. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and nodded when he understood the message and stepped back to allow his father to backtrack. They went out the side door of the emergency waiting room and John stalked up behind the unprepared guy like a predator hunting its prey.

The eldest Winchester spun around the side of the building pulling his pistol from where it was hidden beneath his jacket in one fluid motion. The small guy held his hands up in the air in a plaintive gesture as his wild eyes jumped back and forth between John and Sam.

"Who the hell are you and why're you following us?" John growled out. His blue eyes as steady as the silver weapon aimed at the man's head.

"I know where he is." The guy's voice shook with fear and his mousey brown hair fell into his eyes, obscuring them from view.

Sam lunged forward and grabbed the guy. He was about the same size as the guy. The man's eyes blew wide as Sam slammed him up against the wall. "Where the fuck is my brother?" He growled.

The guy shrank away from the frantic anger in Sam's eyes and blinked rapidly. "Okay, okay…I don't know where he is at this exact moment…but I know where he will be and when."

John stepped forward, having traded his gun for a seven-inch bowie knife. Which he promptly pressed against the man's throat. "Start talking." He ground out through clenched teeth.

"On the fifteenth of every month there's a series of fights. Before that all sorts of people go missing…" His voice trailed off as he tried to lean away from the blade.

Sam slammed his shoulders into the brick again. "What the hell does that had to do with Dean?" His heart was beating so fast that he was pretty sure his father could hear it. And the fear was snaking through his gut and making him feel nauseous.

"I don't know where they keep the fighters until then, I just know when and where the fights happen…that's all I know. I swear." He managed through his shaking voice. Maybe this was a bad idea. He thought as he looked at the two people in front of him. Neither the father nor the so looked particularly sane at the moment. It made him wonder just who the heck there were. Looks like that maniac grabbed the wrong kid this time.

"So they fight…and then what?" John pressed as he stepped closer to the guy.

The thin man gulped and then said. "It's not the fight that's the problem…it's what they do those guys before."

Sam's eyes widened and his gaze flickered to his father and then back to the man. "What are you talking about?"

"It's some sort of fear conditioning…those kids aren't sane when they get in that ring…and it's brutal." He swallowed and felt the blade lift from his throat. The guy reached up and ran his fingers over the thin line on his skin.

"Jesus…" John breathed out.

Sam's terrified gaze lifted to his father. "We gotta find him, dad."

For the first time in his life John didn't have the answer. He had no clue where to find this holding area, though he was going to interrogate the shit outta this guy…and if he was lying…Oh God help him.

TBC…

Author's Note: From the next chapter: "Dean was shoved the back through the throngs of people and into the ring. Fingers raked along his bare skin as he lost his balance and nearly landed in the crowd. The shorts he'd been given were too big and kept sagging in all the wrong places. He was so hungry that his stomach actually started cramping up painfully around the little big of water he'd managed to keep down. He'd received several more injections and been tossed in the ring a couple more times and his brain and body were done.

Once the gate slammed shut behind him, he glanced up to see the smaller boy from the other cage staring at him from across the ring. "No…" Dean whispered. His shoulders sagged and his knees went weak with rejection. The kid looked exactly like Sam.

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