Innocence Regained

Disclaimer: I know nothing, I see nothing, I hear nothing, whoops wrong disclaimer. I promise that I am not making any money or profiting in anyway from this story. I don't have claim to Supernatural, the characters or anything else to do with the show.

Author's Note: This is the promised third part of the Wee!Chester Innocence Trilogy, it follows on pretty much straight after the ending of Innocence Reviled. Does not contain child sexual abuse!

Sorry bout my enforced abscence, just suffice it to say that with a new phone connection done ... I'm Back!!!!!!!!!!

S—D

Chapter Four: Can I crash your party?

Slowly John stood up, swaying drunkenly; sluggishly he lifted a hand to the back of his head and winced when he saw the blood on his fingers. Staggering he headed back to the cabin and his boys.

'Sammy? Dean?' He croaked out as he crashed through the door, he could hear Sammy sobbing softly but with his blurred vision wasn't able to see where his baby was. 'Sammy? It's daddy where are you?'

'Daddy!' Sammy wailed loudly and launched himself at his father, taken by surprise and with the strength behind Sammy's little attack the two of them tumbled backwards in a tight heap. 'Daddy, bad man tooks Deanie.'

'Sammy?' John shook his head and immediately regretted it, 'Slow down and tell daddy what happened?'

'Bad man wif ... wif ... that.' Sammy pointed to one of the escaping clown balloons, 'on his face, he hurted Deanie and Sammy.'

'A man with a clown mask?' John repeated trying to get it all fixed in his mind, 'and he hurt the two of you?'

'Uhhuh,' Sammy nodded his head and started to sniffle again, 'den' he – he grabbed Deanie, an-an hurts him agin, den' he ...' Sammy's voice faded as a fresh wave of tears started to fall.

'He hurt Deanie and what Sammy? What did he do to you?' John asked as he started to inspect his youngest for injuries.

'Hurts me leg.' Sammy whimpered, horrified John checked Sammy's leg, the brace was twisted and crushed, and the tender flesh beneath bruised and bleeding made him want to cry along with his son. 'Hurts daddy.'

'Shh baby, daddy'll make it better.' John hugged Sammy tight for a few minutes, 'now we'll go and find uncle Bobby, and then go get Deanie back.'

'Okkies daddy, I's ready.' Sammy sniffed and lifted his head up to look at his daddy, 'I's a soldier, just like youse and Deanie.'

'Good man.' John gave him a small sad smile and hugged him again, 'but how about daddy carry his little soldier for now?'

'Kay.' John picked his small son up, mindful of his injured leg placed him on his hip and hurried to find Bobby. On the way to the woodshed John couldn't help but wonder what happened to Lucky, the puppy should be barking his head off but the night was ominously quiet.

He passed the spot where he had been jumped his own blood glinting on the footpath. He pressed Sammy's face against his shoulder and kept moving, he had to get a handle on everything especially his emotions if he was going to find Dean – no, no if ... when he was going to find Dean.

The stench of blood hit him again, and John found himself staring downwards and praying that it was not what he thought; and then he saw it, the body of Lucky lying just under a bush, his stomach cut open. Gagging John turned and covered Sammy's face with his hand as he went into the woodshed, how could things have gotten so out of control so quickly?

'Bobby?' John called while he let his eyes get used to the duller light, blinking a couple of times he felt his stomach flip-flop when he caught sight of a booted foot protruding from beneath a pile of wood. 'Sammy, I gotta point ya down for a minute okay?'

'Kay daddy.' Sammy whispered and let go of his father's neck, a pitiful wail came from him when he saw the bloodstain on his hand. 'Daddy blood.'

'Sammy?' John stared down at him confused and then he saw the blood on Sammy's hand and the ache coming from the back of his neck and realisation hit home. 'Ah Sammy daddy got an owie before, that's daddy's blood.'

'Daddy owie?' Sammy's eyes grew impossibly wider as he stared up at his father, 'daddy's owie?' His lower lip started to tremble again as a fresh round of tears threatened to fall.

'Shh, it's okay Sammy daddy's okay just a little owie.'

'Wanna see.'

John went to protest but when he saw the look on his youngest's face he sighed and crouched down in front of him, 'see Sammy just a scratch that's all.' Sammy stared at the thin cut on his daddy's neck and then reached out and tentatively touched it, 'oohh daddy.'

'Daddy's okay, now I gotta go see if uncle Bobby's okay, you be alright?'

'Yep,' Sammy whispered and nodded solemnly, 'Sammy okkies.'

John looked down at Sammy and then hurried over to where he saw Bobby's foot; carefully he started to lift the logs off, working methodically and slowly making sure that the no more wood can fall on his friend.

'Bobby?' John called as he finally uncovered his friend, 'Bobby man talk to me.'

'Daddy? Uncee Bobby okkies?' Sammy asked fearfully and then slid his thumb into his mouth; it was all too much for the small child to handle.

'Bobby, come on man talk to me here.' John eased the gag from Bobby's mouth and then quickly untied his hands and feet. 'Bobby?'

A low groan the only answer he received but that was all John wanted to hear, a sure sign of life. 'That's it dude, we gotta get moving man so come on wake up.'

'Give me a break Winchester.' Bobby groused though barely audible; he opened his eyes to thin slits and stared up at John with unfocused eyes.

'Bobby, as much as I ah enjoy kneeling here with ya, we gotta get going, they took Dean.'

'Dean?' Bobby squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them as he sat up, a hiss escaped from his lips as he moved his damaged ribs.

'You okay or need the ER?'

'Git offa me ya big gal-loot.' Bobby brushed John's hands away and managed to climb to his feet, the sudden shift in altitude made him pale and look very shaky, bending from the waist he took deep breaths and tried to ignore the sharp pain coming from his ribs.

'Uncee Bobby okkies?' A tremulous little voice came from behind them and made John turn back to his son, 'owies?'

'Uncle Bobby's fine just a bit sore.' John said as he picked Sammy up, 'we make a motley crew if there was ever one.' He hiccuped a laugh, 'let's get outta here.'

'Where's that mutt?' Bobby asked squinting up at John, when he saw the look he swallowed deeply and hurried outside. 'Dammit.'

'Daddy, uncee Bobby's said a swear-word.'

'He's just upset kiddo, you doing okay?'

'Yep I's okay.' Sammy sighed, snuggled against his father's strong chest and slid his thumb back into his mouth.

S—D

Dean swallowed down on the rising sobs; he was so scared but didn't want to show his fear so he swallowed deeply and kept his mad face on.

'Claude was right about you.' The man wearing the clown mask said, 'glad to finally find ya kid.' Dean glared at the man and refused to say anything. 'Yeah I heard ya took a vow of silence, that's okay by me, the less noise the better.'

Dean tried to wiggle his hands out of the tight ropes but the more he tried the tighter they became, sighing again he decided to stare out the car window and completely ignore the man who took him away from his family.

'So if you're not gonna talk then I'm gonna have to give you a new name, can't keep calling ya kid and well Dean Winchester don' exist anymore.'

'Yes I do.' Dean screamed at him when he heard that, Claude tried to make him forget who he was and give him another name, now this guy ... no way. 'My name is Dean Winchester and my dad is John Winchester and when he finds ya he's gonna rip yer head off and shove it up your ass.'

A sharp, stinging slap across his face silenced Dean's ranting but with a heaving chest, he continued to give the man a death-stare. Glittering unblinking green eyes fixed on the man's face determined to make him as miserable as Dean felt.

'Quit that staring or I'll blindfold ya.' The man warned Dean but the boy continued to stare unblinkingly at his captor. 'Right that's it.' The man snarled as he wrenched the steering wheel and pulled the car off onto the shoulder of the road. He pulled a bandanna from his pocket, 'I told ya to quit it.'

'You can't tell me what to do.' Dean yelled as he started to kick out towards the man, unable to do much with his feet and hands tied but he still tried to fight, finally he sank his teeth into the man's hand, deep enough to draw blood.

'You little shit.' The man roared and punched Dean's cheek with enough force to knock the young boy out cold. He made sure that no one was around, before he gagged and blindfolded Dean and then carried him to the trunk of the car. 'I think you need some time out, you little shit.' He said as he dropped him into the empty space and slammed the trunk's lid shut, locking Dean in the small cramped and dark space.

Harrison Hartington, forty-two years old and registered child sex offender, became friends with Claude Atkins while they shared the same cell in Arlington Jail. The two men continued to keep in contact when eventually released from jail, the internet playing an integral part of their friendship.

Barely reaching five foot eight inches, Harrison made up for his lack of height with strength, he continuously worked out in his home gym, became fanatical about what he ate and ran for miles every day. He shaved his head after starting to suffer from hair loss in his early thirties; he was as obsessive about his appearance as he was about his diet and exercise. He knew he was vain; but he knew that it just added to his allure for the boys he preyed upon. They would prefer a young, healthy active man to someone with a beer-paunch and a comb-over.

When Claude had sent him pictures of his new 'sons', Harrison was so jealous it choked him, his last conquest had become too old and he finally, had to get rid of him, and now he was in search of a new 'son'. When he heard of Claude's untimely demise, Harrison decided that the best way to pay homage to his long-time friend was to continue in the grooming of his young son. He had no desire in taking the younger one, too many hassles involved in toddlers, they were too unpredictable and could easily gain unwanted attention to themselves. But boys Dean's age were ripe for the taking, old enough to follow orders and understand the consequences of their actions. So after taking in all of the information Claude had amassed on the two boys it was rather easy to pick up their trail, to find out about Sammy's phobia of clowns and to use to it his advantage.

In the end, it was just too easy, even dealing with the two experienced hunters; a few requests in the right areas, he was able to put his plan into action, and execute it perfectly.

After driving another hour, Harrison decided to pull over and stop for the night, aside from the need to sleep, he needed to begin the boy's training immediately, the less combativeness while they travelled the better.

Pulling into Hotel Serenity, Harrison booked a room for himself and his very ill son, taking the end room, so they could have a quiet night he paid a little extra for complete privacy. Reversing towards the door to the motel room, Harrison managed to slip inside with Dean bundled in his arms. At first, he was worried that the boy hadn't regained consciousness and that he may have hit him too hard but then he decided it was a good thing until he had them completely settled.

Carrying Dean to the bed furtherest away from the door, he pulled the blankets back and laid him down and then he undid the ropes from his hands and feet, only to retie him to the bed-frame. He left the blindfold on but removed the gag and quickly checked the purple bruise blossoming over the left half of Dean's face. He gave a slight shrug, covered Dean with the blankets and then went to unpack the rest of their stuff.

A small whimper, alerted Harrison to Dean's re-emergence in the land of the living, 'ah so we're awake again huh?'

'Where?' Dean choked out the word, he felt so strange and his tummy felt all squirmy.

'Somewhere safe to stay for the night, now I have to go and get us something to eat, I trust that I can leave you alone.'

'Yeah right.' Dean muttered as he tried to pry the blindfold off.

'That's what I thought.' Harrison's voice was suddenly a lot closer making Dean jump in fright; roughly, he tightened the blindfold and then used another bandanna as a gag fastening it as tight as possible. 'Don't do a thing that'll make me mad.' He growled close to Dean's ear before covering the boy's head with the blanket, encasing him in complete and utter darkness.

Terrified, Dean lay as still as he could and listened intently, he could hear the man moving around the room, the clinking of keys, the slamming of the door and starting of the car and then, then there was silence once again. He had to get word to his dad, no matter what, wriggling frantically he managed to dislodge the blanket; he took a second to catch his breath and then started to work on loosening the gag against the bedhead. After, he managed to get it off he took in rasping deep breathes and then using the same process he slipped off the blindfold.

Blinking furiously Dean stared around at his surroundings and tried to regain his bearings. He knew he only had a limited amount of time to get a message to his dad before the man came back. Straining against the rope tethering him to the bed-head Dean desperately tried to reach the house phone, he could feel his blood dampening the ropes but he kept pulling and straining. Finally, he managed to get his fingers onto the headset and drag it onto the bed. Breathing heavily he, dialled Pastor Jim's number, silently praying that someone will pick up.

'Pastor Jim Murphy speaking.' The familiar voice filled Dean with utter relief and he wanted to cry again.

'Pastor Jim it's Dean.'

'Dean my boy, where are you?'

'N-Not sure, motel called Serenity I think, can – can you get my dad to find me?'

'He's on his way here now with Bobby and Sammy...'

'is Sammy?'

'He's scared but he's alright Dean, what about you son?'

'I – I have to go ... please help me Pastor Jim.' Dean hung up, and tried to put the phone back properly but in his haste he couldn't quite get it back in the same spot, frantically he pushed the gag back up and had to swallow on the need to vomit at least it wasn't as tight now. Just as he heard the car out the front, he had the blindfold almost back in place, but was unable to get the blanket back over his head before Harrison stepped into the room.

'What the hell is going on?' Harrison thundered at Dean who laid on the bed shaking in fear, the blanket no longer covering his head. 'What have you been up to little mouse?'

Harrison put the bags of food down onto the table and stepped closer to Dean's bed, 'let's see, the phone's been moved, your blanket aint covering ya, so what else are you trying to hide?' Harrison pulled the blankets off Dean and stared down at the shaking little boy, 'oh dear looks like you've hurt your wrist.' Dean could feel the man's acrid breath on his bare skin as he leant over the bed, he gripped Dean's bleeding wrist tightly and squeezed eliciting a muffled squeak from the child. 'What a shame, Claude told me that you can't be trusted to do as you're told.' Harrison twisted Dean's wrist until he could hear an audible snap and the accompanying cry of pain and fear then he let go and went over to the bags on the table.

Dean laid on the bed, trying to breath through the pain with short sharp pants, his wrist felt like it was on fire and he couldn't move his fingers he had to force himself to calm down so that he could hear what the man was doing.

Rough hands grabbed his hips and forced Dean to lie flat on his back, terrified of what was happening Dean started to hyperventilate until a sharp slap on his face stopped him, 'no more of that crap kid.' Dean felt his pants yanked down his legs and he started to fight again, not caring anymore about punishments; he just wanted the man to go away. Then, to his humiliation and fear levels Dean felt the man put one of those hated pull-up diapers on him, hot tears rolled down his face and escaped under the blindfold as he lay passively, the shock and pain took the need to fight back away.

Harrison smirked as he watched the kid, suddenly going lax and passive like a rag doll, he knew that it wouldn't last but for now, it was perfect. After replacing the jeans, Harrison pulled the blindfold off Dean and then the gag, he wanted the kid to watch and learn.

With haunted eyes, Dean watched the man pull out a loaded syringe, he knew that it was no use to fight back; he just had to hang on until his dad could rescue him.

'Right kid, here's how it works from now on, you are my son Daniel Hartington, got it, you can call me dad, or Sir anything else will result in punishment do you understand what I am saying?'

'Y-Yes.'

'Yes what?' Harrison leaned closer and waved the needle in front of Dean.

'Yes Sir.' Dean whispered

'What's your name?'

'Dean.' Dean shot out before he could stop himself, with a look of horror on his young face he watched as the man plunged the needle into his arm, 'I'm sorry Sir, my name's Daniel.' He cried out but it was too late and soon he felt the insipid drug flood his system.

'What is your name?' Harrison pressed the point again.

'D-Daniel Hartington, Sir.' Dean whispered turning his face away from his captor.

'Who am I?'

'My-my f-f-father Sir.' Dean replied dully.

'I'm the only family you have.'

'Yes Sir.'

'Right now how about we eat?' Harrison clapped his hands and went to get the bags of food, more than satisfied with the way things were going. He quickly dished up the burgers and fries, a bowl for Daniel and a plate for himself, he cut the food up into small bite-sized pieces for Daniel so he didn't have to use a fork or knife, just to be on the safe side, and he poured him a soda into a glass with a sippee straw.

He returned to the bed and placed the food on the floor by the bed while he sat Dean/Daniel up in the bed propping him up with pillows, 'I'll fix your arm after dinner Daniel.' He said with an almost tender tone to his voice, before he picked up the bowl and placed it on the boy's lap. 'Can you feed yourself or do you want me to feed you?'

'I – I can do it Sir.' Dean/Daniel whispered softly as he carefully picked up a piece of the burger and chewed it slowly.

S—D

Jim paced the rectory's living room impatiently waiting for John, Bobby and Sammy to arrive; he watched the time and was aware of how much time had already lapsed since Dean called.

Finally, he heard the familiar rumble of the impala pulling up out the front and he hurried out to greet them with the not-so-good news. 'John, Bobby it's good to see you.' He said as he helped Bobby from the car while John gently lifted a sleeping Sammy from his car-seat.

'What is it Preacher you got ants in yer pants?' Bobby grumbled as he straightened up.

'I ah have some news, John why don't you put Sammy on the couch in the living room for now? We can talk in the kitchen and still be close to him.'

John laid his sleeping son on the couch and propped a cushion under his injured leg before covering him with a throw rug, leaving the door open, he went through to the kitchen where Jim had hot, freshly brewed coffee waiting for them.

'What is it Jim?' John asked without preamble.

'I ah got a call just a little while ago.' Jim sat down and sipped his coffee, 'it was Dean.'

'Dean?' John blinked in shock he sank down onto a chair and stared into space, 'how? When?'

'Just under an hour ago, you were already on the road so I couldn't call you to let you know, it was a very quick call. I – I think that he was taking a great risk by calling.'

'How did he sound?' John sounded so tired and so much older than his years.

'Good I think, he asked about Sammy.'

'That's my boy!' John gave a humourless chuckle.

'He said that the man had him at a motel called Serenity, that was about it he said that he had to go and hung up quickly.'

'My boy, my poor boy.' John mumbled, 'what ... ahh we gotta find that motel.'

'Here you and Bobby eat, you need your strength if you want to help your son John and Bobby well you look like the walking dead.'

'Gee thanks Preacher man.'

'I'll go and get the phone books I have, hopefully we will find something.' Jim stood up and went to get the books when Sammy's screams silenced the three men.

'Another nightmare.' John said as he stood and wearily went to his baby boy. 'Hey Sammy shh it's alright, it's daddy I'm right here.' He gathered the distraught toddler into his arms and found a warm and damp surprise. 'Sammy?'

'I's sorry daddy, I's sorry.' Sammy sobbed hysterically, 'don' hurts me I's sorry.'

'Shh Sammy, hey it was an accident that's all.' John frowned as he listened to Sammy begging not to be hurt, 'Sammy do you know where we are?'

'Deanie? Where's Deanie ... whatcha do wif my Deanie?' Sammy started to struggle against the strong arms holding him tightly, 'pwease don' hurts Deanie, I's sorree, I's clean it.'

'Ahh Sammy, baby boy shh come back to me please come back to me.' John hugged Sammy tightly and started to rock him, 'please baby wake up and come back to me.'

'Deanie, where Deanie.' Sammy cried, desperately he tried to workout what was going on, it wasn't Claude who held him, so who was it? 'Daddy?' Sammy blinked and tried to focus on the man's face, 'daddy is that you?'

'Yeah baby it's daddy.'

'Where's we?'

'We're back at Pastor Jim.'

'Pasty Jim?'

'That's right Sammy ...'

'where's Deanie? Where's my Deanie?'

'We're gonna find him Sammy, I promise we're gonna find him and bring him home.'

'Scared daddy, don' hear Deanie no mores.' Sammy cried as he slid his thumb into his mouth and snuggled against his daddy's chest, needing the warmth, and love but most of all he needed the safety of his father's strong embrace.

TBC