Author's note: Well, it happened again. As I explained in my profile, once more, I have made some changes. For those wonderful readers following this story, I have revised some of Chapter 8.

Sam was leaning over a sink, washing his hands when the bathroom door re-opened but this time it was pushed, not pulled. Though Sam didn't acknowledge the man who entered, peripheral vision let him know this person was suspicious for the fact that he was wearing a leather jacket in early July.

Instead of heading to a stall or urinal, this person lurked by the door. Being watched rinsing the soap off his hands made Sam's skin crawl.'What the hell's this asshole doing? He's purposely blocking my way out,' he reflected with dismay.

"Hey kid, you wanna make a quick twenty?"

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. 'Oh, shit. This must be the guy Dean was talking about. He didn't say anything about money...not that I gave him a chance to.'

As nonchalantly as possible, he simply shut off the faucet and took the two steps needed to grab a paper towel from the dispenser located close to where his opponent was leaning. The man's face expressed impatience, eyes shifting back and forth. "Hey, I asked you a question," he growled.

"Fuck off," replied Sam before turning his back to the man and throwing the used paper towel into the trash with one fluid move.

"Wrong answer."

Sam spun back around to find the man had moved to place his back up against the door. There was now no question that in order to leave, Sam would need to physically confront this person. Though a few inches shorter, Sam judged there was a good thirty pounds on him and decided he would have to rely on his speed.

Suddenly a new obstacle presented itself as the man reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife. 'So that's why he's wearing a jacket,' thought Sam incidentally. He shook his head with frustration. 'Stop! That's not important now! Focus!'

"You're comin' with me, quietly...understand?...and no one has to get hurt."

In his mind, Sam heard Dean's voice say, 'alright, that's enough.' In a blur Sam rushed forward and landed one targeted strike to the man's temple. Before he knew what hit him, the man's eyes rolled up and he crumpled to the tiles, just left of the door.

Sam stared down at his form in disbelief. The man didn't so much as twitch. 'Holy shit! I did it! I didn't freeze...at all! The extra training does help.' He then turned to reach for the door when suddenly it burst open and Sam was confronted by a wild-eyed Dean.

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Dean's face lit up with instant relief once he saw Sam standing before him. There was no mark on him but to Dean, that didn't mean anything. With a cursory glance, he noticed the man who went after his brother was sprawled out on the floor. Dean's eyes narrowed showing the rage he felt. "Did he touch you?"

"No," Sam said with a grin. "Don't worry."

"Don't worry?" Dean shouted. He took a step toward Sam and shook his shoulders in frustration. "That's what you keep saying!" He then gestured to the knife he saw on the ground.

Now it was Sam's turn to lose his temper. "I'm not fucking five anymore you know!"

His brother looked so startled that Sam couldn't help but to grin once again. "Ha!...Dean, I obviously can take care of myself."

"Well, I must say," Dean conceded, "I'm impressed. Didjya get him in one hit?"

Sam didn't want to take all the credit. "Yeah...just like you and dad showed me. Let's get out of here."

"Help me get him in the trash, first?"

"Someone might come in...we should just go."

Dean kicked the man hard in the stomach and the man groaned. "Oh, sorry," he said, voice dripping with insincerity.

Just as Dean turned to exit, another man passed through the door and stopped short at the sight before him. "What the..."

Sam froze. "Uh..."

"This man," Dean said pointing with his foot, "attacked my brother...call the police and have him arrested." Without another word, Dean grabbed Sam by the arm then pulled him out of the restroom and away from the newcomer's scrutiny.

The eyewitness reached for his cell phone then squatted down to investigate as he began punching some numbers. Before he could finish, the man lying on the ground suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed his knife, and raised himself up to stab the other in the heart. "Just a little pent up energy finding it's way out for a job well done."

The innocent bystander dropped his phone as he collapsed. He died instantly with nothing more than a look of disbelief on his face.

The man in the leather jacket stood up and sneered. "Can't be letting you ID the Winchester boys, either." Next, he dragged the body off to a far corner so no one would see it right away. Satisfied, he said, "that should give them enough time."

He then walked over to a mirror and faced his reflection. "Thanks for the loaner, you fucking pervert. Now, you'll have more than molestation on your record. Too bad I didn't let you see any of what just happened...it was beautiful, really. As for me, I now have some business to take care of in a place called Henderson."

Suddenly, the man in the leather jacket tilted his head back and screamed as a stream of black smoke jettisoned up from his mouth before he collapsed once again to the floor.

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Worried they would attract more unwanted attention, Sam pulled his arm against his brother's grip as soon as they exited the bathroom. "Let go, Dean!"

Dean abruptly released Sam's arm and growled.

"You're just pissed because you didn't get to beat him senseless," Sam said as they continued making their way to the building's exit, dodging numerous people coming at them from all different directions.

Dean pushed through the door to the outside with more force than was necessary. "You're goddamn right I'm pissed! Sam if one of us has to beat someone up, it should be me."

"What! Why? Just 'coz you're my big brother?...He was after me, not you!"

"Exactly and that's the thing that gets me the most! Do you know what could have happened?"

"Dean...come on man. I mean, you've got enough to worry about, right? I can take care of myself...now you've seen I am quite capable. And, yes, I know what could have happened... I've faced perverts like this before when I was 9." Sam winced as that last bit came out unintended.

Dean stopped cold in his tracks. "What did you say?"

Sam halted as well and glanced around to see if any attention was being directed their way and was gratified to see everyone else going about their business. He consequently spotted the Impala. "Dean, Dad's over there waiting. We've got to keep moving...we can't stay here."

Sam resumed walking and Dean kept pace next to him. "Oh, no you don't...tell me what happened."

Sam gazed off into the distance as the memory rushed to the surface.

It was his turn to stay behind and clean up the field. Once done, he was taking a shower and didn't think anyone was still there so he let out a surprised gasp when a hand worked around the curtain before him and pushed it aside.

It was his coach standing there, completely undressed. He took an involuntary step back then bumped into the wall; there was no where else to go. Without saying anything, the coach leaned over and grabbed one of his forearms.

His mouth ran dry as the coach guided his hand toward the man's genitals. To avoid contact, he clenched his hand into a fist and ineffectively started to pull back. "Just relax," the coach whispered, attempting to open up his hand.

Right then, a door just outside the shower area banged open and he could hear equipment being pushed along the locker room floor - it must be the janitor. The coach let go of his arm as his expression turned into one of fear. Suddenly the coach ran out of there and he remained under the running water, stunned for a moment. Then tears started to roll down his face as he sobbed with relief, trying to telepathically communicate 'thank you...thank you' repeatedly to the janitor.

"It happened when I played soccer, at one of my schools..."

Dean spun Sam around to face him, effectively cutting him off. "...and you didn't tell me?"

"You're kidding right?"

Dean glared in response.

Sam sighed. "Since we were kids, we knew we had to stay off the grid."

Dean's heated expression softened slightly. "Yeah...and?"

"I knew how you'd react...it would cause unwanted attention. I waited until I knew we were leaving the area before telling a teacher."

"Did anything ever happen again to you with this asshole...or any other time with another asshole?"

Sam looked down to his feet. "No."

Dean gave him a skeptical eye. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Sam, look at me."

Sam complied with his brother's request and pulled off a straight face. "Nothing like that ever happened again...really, I swear."

Dean swallowed. "Did Dad know?"

"No," Sam conceded then rushed to explain when he saw Dean clench his jaw. "He can't be with us all the time, Dean...he said so himself...you know that. Plus, I knew how he'd react as well." Sam lifted an arm, placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and gently squeezed. "You can't tell him...it's just gonna make him mad and for what? Nothing really happened...it was interrupted before it went too far. Plus it was six years ago. Please...promise me."

Dean was silent, thinking about what Sam had just said. He turned toward where his father was by the car; the hood was up and he was bent over the engine. A few seconds later, he looked directly at Sam.

Sam dropped his arm down and stared back with pleading eyes that he knew Dean could never say 'no' to. "Fine. But he will hear about this."

"Fine...bitch."

"You're the bitch...bitch," Dean mumbled.

"Oh yeah?" Sam laughed and gave Dean's shoulder a shove to which Dean responded by punching him lightly in the arm. Then they resumed walking at a hurried pace.

John dropped the hood when his son's approached. "Where's the food?"

Dean frowned. "There was an incident...we need to go in case the cops come."

With out another word, the three men jumped into their car and John directed it back onto the highway. A faint siren could be heard and John looked in the rear view mirror while Dean and Sam peered out the back window. From a distance, they all saw the flashing lights of a police car heading toward the reststop entrance.

"This 'incident' wouldn't by any chance have involved you, would it?" John asked once they were a few minutes back on the highway.

"You should have seen it...Sam knocked the asshole out in one strike."

John scrutinuzed Sam in the rearview mirror and was satisfied he was alright. "Mmmhmm. Tell me what happened."

"Basically, a sex predator tried to get Sam."

'A pervert threatened my son!' John's shoulders tensed and his hands tightened around the steering wheel. "Where were you when all this was going on?"

From the back seat, Sam threw his arms up. "Dad, don't put this on Dean! He found out what was happening and came right away."

"Watch your tone," John snapped then caught Dean's expression of regret and sighed. "You're right. It's just...we don't have enough to deal with? We gotta deal with these low-lifes, too? It just pisses me off and that's putting it very mildly."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Some things are out of our control. I'm just glad nothing really bad happened to Sam."

"We all are."

Sam cleared his throat, slightly emotional over his fathers words. "Someone saw us with him when he was unconscious and called the cops...we had to leave. They'll take care of it."

John wanted to do nothing short of murdering that man but couldn't based on principle. "If it weren't for the law showing up, I'd turn right around. But unfortunately, I learned my lesson." John tilted his head, recalling the time. "Ironically, it was thanks to a pedophile. It involved you, Dean...you were ten at the time. Do you remember? We were staying in Cincinnati."

"I don't remember anything," Dean said. "Nothing like that ever happened to me. I mean, I have been approached, but only when I was older and for consensual sex."

"Dad, I remember you beat the shit out of some guy...is that what you mean?"

Dean narrowed his eyes trying to search for the memory. "Where was I?"

"I'll tell you," said John. "Well, nothing really happened to you, thank God...plus you were sick at the time, probably too out of it to know what was going on. I had gone to get you from school and when we came back to our place, this guy passed by, obviously drunk. He came up to us...asked me if I was from the area and asked 'where did you find him?' and if could he have you when I was done."

"He didn't think I was your son?" Dean asked.

"Well, you do resemble your mother more. But I didn't care...I didn't care if he was drunk or dying."

Sam shuddered. "All I knew is that he said something that made you furious...but you never told me what."

"I held back until I first saw Dean inside and told you both to stay put...which you did, thankfully."

"Wow. I don't remember any of that," Dean said, shaking his head.

John turned his head toward Dean and gave a rare smile. "Oh, and there was hell to pay after that! Some neighbor witnessed the way I told him what I thought about his preference for children and called the cops. Fortunately, when they came, the asshole didn't press charges...I guess he must've had something to hide himself. Anyway, the next day, social services got involved because the police noticed I had a six year old son who wasn't in school. It was then I enrolled you, Sam, and played by the rules."

Dean smirked at that and spoke with sarcasm. "And you have been ever since...you are a model citizen."

All three were silent before John spoke once again. "So you say someone saw you? We'll make a stop for food soon, get the scanner and listen in. We'll also keep our ears open to the news."