Summary: AU: Stanford Era: "Dean … Sammy's in trouble." A late night phone call sends Dean Winchester and long-time friend, Caelan Hagan in a desperate search to find Sam before the unthinkable happens; uncovering lies and secrets involving the youngest Winchester, that have been years in the making.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, physical abuse, torture, implied adult themes.

Disclaimer: I don't own the supernatural characters.

Author's Note: Just another possibility on why Sam left for Stanford. Introducing new character, Caelan Hagan. Hope you enjoy. I'm really nervous about this chapter.

Special Note: Here's another chapter just for all you guys who have taken the time out to read this story and to all the people who have this story on their alerts or have put it on their favourite lists. Thanks. It means a lot.

DEMON SPAWN: THE PHONE CALL

CHAPTER TEN

Dean was in the back of the Impala, rummaging through the trunk and putting together a bag of weapons and ammunition that they would need in order to storm the warehouse and rescue Sammy.

It was obvious that they were dealing with people – granted they were sick and soon to be dead people, possibly Hunters – and not anything supernatural as Dean made sure to pack lots of guns, spare clips, knives and anything else that he could think of in order to defeat possible Hunters.

They had no idea how many people were in there. Dean had heard two distinct, different voices when Dead Fucker had called him to brag, but there was no way to tell how many more of them could be in there.

Dean wasn't stupid. He knew this was most likely a trap, but Dean figured that the advantages outweighed the risk factors. He wanted to find Sammy and bring him home. And Dean didn't care what he had to do to accomplish that, but he would … even if he ended up captured alongside his brother, at least they would be together and Sam wouldn't be alone anymore.

"So?" Dean asked, his voice low and soft as Caelan joined him at the rear of the Impala after quietly scoping out the warehouse.

"It's quiet," Caelan revealed, a slight frown forming. "Really quiet. I don't know Dean, there's something about this that doesn't seem right. No guards on the doors; although I did spot two cars out the back, so at least we know that someone is here. One of them was just a generic undistinguishable common Ford Focus, but the other one … the other car is really distinct and I know that I've seen it before … I just can't place where."

"What type of car is it?" Dean asked, his heart beating faster in response to Caelan's slightly nervous and worried body language.

"Red Ferrari 360," Caelan replied in a snort. "Really dude, who the hell would drive around in something so … recognizable? Even if it had been jacked … no Hunter would be foolish enough to steal something like that which would be recognized in seconds. They'd have to be a flaming idiot to drive around in something that!"

Dean couldn't help but agree with his friend's assessment. Generally, as a rule, Hunters wanted to attract as little attention as possible. Driving around in a Ferrari 360 was clearly a beacon – neon sign – to alert authorities to your whereabouts (especially if stolen)!

If a Hunter was driving around in a Ferrari 360, they were either a complete idiot or they were too cocky and self-assured to worry about the ramifications that would be caused driving around in such a noticeable vehicle.

Wait a minute … self-absorbed, cocky, liked to throw his wealth around and flaunt it in Hunters faces? That sounded like … But no, surely not. His Dad was one of the few respected and admired old-school Hunters around. Why would his son be caught up in something so … shady as kidnapping and torture?

"Show me." Dean demanded seriously.

Caelan's frown deepened at Dean's sudden tense attitude, but, without a word, Caelan lead Dean around the back of the warehouse and pointed out … huh. Now there was only one car left in the parking spaces; the non-descript Ford Focus having disappeared, leaving only the showy red Ferrari 360.

"Sonuvabitch!" Dean hissed under his breath, instantly recognizing the car and knowing who it belonged to.

"What?" Caelan asked, automatically mirroring his friend's tense posture. "You recognize it?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered through clenched teeth. "This car belongs to the not so shy, brash, know-it-all, thinks he's better than everyone else but can't hunt for shit … Peter Stewart."

"Stewart? But the … the Stewart family have been well respected and admired Hunters for generations! Why the hell would Roger Stewart's son resort to kidnapping a fellow Hunter's son?" Caelan couldn't help but splutter in shock. "Dean, this makes no damn sense at all!"

"I don't care." Dean growled, hands clenched at his sides, his green eyes flashing with dark rage. "We can question the bastard as much as we like after we get Sammy back! Caelan, let's get ready to move!"

DW CH SW DW CH SW DW CH SW DW CH SW DW

Sam had screamed himself hoarse, his eyes wide and unblinking, too petrified to cry, sinking deeper and deeper into madness, feeling something fracturing within him as he muttered incoherently to himself just so he knew he was still there, still alive and not having being swallowed up by the darkness.

Sam had never been so scared before in his entire life! Being inside of this box again had reduced him to a shaking, quivering mess of terrified – out-of-his-freaking-mind – Sam Winchester, with some scary ass delusions on the side as he laughed hysterically, bordering on the sounds of madness.

He had to get out of here! He had to get out of here before he became lost within his own mind forever! Was this even real? Or was Sam dreaming; having a very vivid flashback or a nightmare?

Sam couldn't answer that, he didn't know, as he continued to laugh, curling himself up tightly into a ball, finding a little comfort in the fact that he could feel himself. If he could feel himself, then that meant that he hadn't disappeared, he hadn't given into his craziness … at least, not yet.

Sam feared that it wouldn't be long before he surrendered to his inner-madness, not sure how much more of this damn box he could take! At this rate, by the time Dean found him, he'd be bucket-loads of crazy and his family would have no choice but to lock him up in a mental institution to live out his remaining days, stuck with hallucinations of his mind.

Sam's boarder-lining laugh of insanity quickly turned into sobs, realising that killing him out-right was a merciful ending which he probably didn't deserve. He was not allowed to find peace … How could he find peace and be able to rest when The Demon who had killed his mother was still out there? Was Mary Winchester at least resting in peace? Or was she suffering through torment and agony because of the horrendous and brutal way that she had died?

Sam would like to think that his mother was at least at rest, that she had found someplace to come to an understanding of acceptance and that she was at least content in the after-life. Because if Mary had at least managed to find contentment, acceptance and peace … that meant there was hope for him too. Maybe in death, he would be able to find all of the things that he had wanted to experience in life.

"Easy Sam Winchester," a low, soothing voice spoke against Sam's ear, a light hand placed upon his shoulder in comfort.

Sam had thought he'd screamed himself hoarse, but he surprised himself by letting loose a blood-curling scream, badly scaring himself in the process.

"Easy," the almost musical voice calmly instructed him. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Who … what are you? And how the hell can you even fit in this little space with me?" Sam asked, feeling the hysterical laughter bubbling up within him once more. Great, now he was talking to his hallucinations! Yep, he'd definitely lost the plot this time!

"I'm not a hallucination," the distinctly male voice told him, a slight edge of humour to his tone. "I'm just here to keep you company, to keep you calm and … lucid until your brother gets here."

Sam swallowed hard. "Yeah, right!" he spat out, unwilling to believe, to hope, only to have it ripped away from him again.

The voice sighed gently. "Don't you remember Sam? From the first moment they shoved you in this box back when you were only ten-years old, I've been there with you, guiding you, helping you through your pain, your terror, your doubt. I've always been here for you Sam. And I will always be here when you need me in the future. I'm nothing to be scared or frightened of … I promise."

Vaguely Sam recalled the instances that this voice – being – told him about and against his better judgement, he found himself relaxing slightly. "So, what are you then? Some trick of the mind, spirit or maybe … guardian angel?"

The voice laughed softly. "Well, I'm definitely not either a trick of your mind or a spirit." The voice responded amused. "I'm not really a guardian angel either … although; since I do guard and watch over you … I guess that's the closest explanation of what I am." The voice replied as he placed a hand upon Sam's forehead, a warm soothing glow emanating from his hand.

"Huh." Sam mumbled, suddenly feeling extremely sleepy now, feeling totally at ease and relaxed within the voice's presence.

"Don't worry Sam, your older brother's almost here and then you will never be put in this cursed box ever again!"

"Man, I hope not," Sam said, his words beginning to slur now. "If you … not an … angel … what do I call you?" Sam got out before he drifted off to sleep – or fell unconscious – free from his aches and pains for the time being.

"You can call me Nirkish, Sam Winchester – that's what your Dad and your friend Caelan call me – and you're welcome. Don't worry; you won't remember this conversation at all." The voice said affectionately, wishing that he could cover the young man's bruised, bloody and naked body, but knowing that he could leave no trace of his existence behind.

"Rest now. Don't worry kid; I'll be seeing you real soon." The voice chuckled softly as he slowly departed from the box and removed himself from the building, just as he heard the front door being kicked in and Dean Winchester's roaring voice, bellowing, demanding to know where his brother was, full of wrathful fury and vengeance.

Dean was here now and Sam would be safe, that's all Nirkish needed to know before he vanished completely from sight, knowing how much trouble he was going to be in today because of all of the interfering he had done. The Wise Ones would not be happy, but it was worth it to know that Sam Winchester would be safe.

SW CH SW CH SW CH SW CH SW CH SW CH SW

Caelan's mind was reeling with the implications of actually knowing that Hunters were involved with the youngest Winchester's abduction and subsequent torture, possibly having been involved with punishing the young man for years.

It was one thing to theorize and put forward relevant suggestions that may pertain to certain circumstances or events, but to have actual physical confirmation that Hunters were involved – at least with Sam's current abduction – made Caelan feel extremely nervous. And what made it worse was that both John and Dean had worked with this particular Hunter, his father asking John to give his son some pointers on hunting. The Stewart's were among one of the oldest and most respected family of the Hunters community. To think that they would turn around and …

Caelan gritted his teeth together, his hand gripping tightly upon the weapon he held within his hand, his expression immediately hardened and focused as he waited for Dean's signal to enter the warehouse through the back door. The plan was simple enough, Dean would go through the front, making as much noise as possible, drawing all potential threats toward him, while Caelan would enter through the back, take out any stragglers, sneak up behind the ones who had Dean surrounded and then the two of them would attack and take down the assailants before they located Sam Winchester and got the hell out of there … hopefully with all of their body parts intact!

While Caelan wasn't a big fan of Dean acting as bait, they both knew that Caelan was more skilled with sneak attacks than Dean. An even better plan would have been to call on some other Hunters for back-up, but they didn't know who they could trust and didn't have time to wait, both of them anxious to get the young man out of these sadistic bastards hands as soon as possible. So that left the brash and slightly crazy plan as the only available option to the two Hunters.

Caelan's body tensed in anticipation as he heard Dean's muffled voice from inside of the warehouse, sounding pissed and deadly in typical Dean Winchester fashion when confronting anyone who had hurt his little brother.

Caelan almost felt sorry for them until he recalled the way Sam's voice had trembled with obvious pain and fear and Caelan's resolve strengthened, waiting until he heard Dean's voice move further into the warehouse before he stood up from his crouched position and prepared to enter the warehouse through the back door, knowing that no matter what happened, they would be getting Sam Winchester back!

CH DW CH DW CH DW CH DW CH DW CH DW CH

Dean kicked open the front door, grinning in satisfaction at the loud splintering noise it made; seeing a boot-sized hole within the rotten wooden door. "Hey! Dead Fucker! Here I am, you son of a bitch! Now give me back my brother before I cut your fucking lungs out!"

Dean entered the building, gun in one hand, knife in the other, anger – which would normally limit a man's focus and make him sloppy – fuelled Dean's concentration and determination as he stomped through the warehouse, wanting these fuckers to know that he was here and he was coming for them.

"Peter Stewart … I know you're here … I saw your piece of crap car out the back and let's just say you'll be needed a new paint job!" Dean smirked as he remembered deliberately keying the Ferrari 360 on both sides, making numerous marks that would be impossible to get out through sanding alone.

"If you return Sam right now, without any trouble or trying to fight me, I'll guarantee that your car will remain in one piece … I'll defuse the bomb that I placed under it and we can all go our own separate ways!" Dean lied, hoping that comment would draw the bastard out. Dean knew that if someone threatened to destroy his baby, he'd be out here in a flash, guns blazing.

Sure enough, two minutes later Peter Stewart was striding toward him, fire within his blue eyes, and a murderous expression upon his pretty-boy face. "Dean Winchester … you better not have ruined my car!" he said, his nostrils flaring with indignant rage. "Or I will take a fucking baseball bat to your crappy out-dated car!"

Dean twisted his lips into a half-smile, and before Peter could even blink, Dean shoved Peter up against the wall, his knife pressing firmly against the jugular of this pretentious Hunter. "You know, as if drugging, kidnapping and torturing my kid brother wasn't bad enough … now you had to go and threaten my baby! Sorry Peter, but there's no way I can let you live after a comment like that."

Peter swallowed hard, his blue eyes widening in fear when he realised that Dean would go through with his promise if he didn't quickly think of something to defuse the volatile Winchester and defend his actions. "Now, wait a minute Dean," Peter said, his voice rising shrilly in panic. "This has been just a little misunderstanding okay? It was a joke … a prank gone bad … you know how that goes, right?"

Dean quirked a sceptical eyebrow as he pressed his knife deeper against the wannabe Hunter's neck. "Huh." He said, disbelief evident within that one word. "I only want to know two things from you right now Peter; How many of you bastards are responsible for this and where the hell is my brother?!"

Peter trembled within Dean's vice-like grip, knowing by the look within Dean Winchester's deepening green eyes how close to the edge Dean was in taking his life! "W-wait!" Peter gasped. "It's not what you think okay? It wasn't my idea … I swear! Me and Hank … we were called in at the last minute … we haven't even been here long, maybe an hour tops. Dean, I swear, I never touched your brother!"

Dean watched Peter's eyes roam everywhere else but look him in the eyes and Dean nearly stabbed the guy on principal for flat out lying to him. But as much as Dean would have loved nothing better than to run this sorry-for-an-excuse-Hunter-and-man through with his knife, itching to see this coward's blood upon his blade, Dean knew that killing a Hunter – no matter what they had done, but especially the old-school Hunters – would only cause all-out war between the Hunters and the Winchesters. Still that didn't mean Dean couldn't rough him up a little bit.

"Liar," Dean growled, smirking with pleasure as he felt bones crunching under his fist as it connected solidly with Peter's nose. "That's for threatening my baby." Dean added, watching as Peter bawled like a baby, grabbing at his broken nose, all of the fight seeming to leave him.

"Ow! You fucking crazy bastard!" Peter wailed, his voice muffled as he tried to stem the flow of blood that was streaming from his nose.

"One more time Peter … and you better give me the answers that I want or I'm going to start breaking your fingers one by one until you tell me what I want to know." Dean narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice darkly to let Peter know that he was through playing around. "How many of you are here and where is my brother?"

"If I tell you … what's to s-stop you fr-from kill-killing me?" Peter asked, his voice rising obnoxiously loud in his panic. "If you hu-hurt me, my father will destroy you!"

"Please!" Dean scoffed. "I'm not scared of your father. Besides, who said I'm going to kill you straight away? If you don't start talking, I could make you suffer like you've never suffered before Peter. So, it's in your best interests to tell me what I want to know, right?" Dean smiled sweetly, pressing his blade even deeper into Peter's neck until he drew blood. "Last chance Peter before you really piss me off and I get serious!"

"Okay … okay … you win," Peter quickly said, knowing that he had pushed Dean to his limits. "There's just me and Hank here, okay?"

"Hank Adams?" Dean frowned at the familiar Hunters name, knowing that the Adams' were another old-school, highly respected family of Hunters within the Hunting community.

"Yes. Hank's Dad and my Dad grew up together and became hunting partners … just like me and Hank are hunting partners now. I swear, there's no one else here."

Peter's eyes stayed firmly upon Dean's and Dean nodded, satisfied that Peter was telling the truth, knowing that Caelan would have no trouble in taking down a single Hunter. Hank was good – better than Peter in every sense – but he was no match for Caelan Hagan."

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," Dean pulled his knife back from Peter's throat a little to let the other Hunter know that Dean believed him. "Now, where's my brother?"

"He's out the back, off the main room in one of the executive offices. Dean, I'll take you to him." Peter replied eagerly, his blue eyes lightening up with hope, praying that he could still reason with the enraged Winchester … although when Dean saw the state Sam was in … Peter gulped nervously, quickly pushing that thought to the back of his mind, trying to focous on one problem at a time.

Dean searched Peter's eyes for a long minute before he released four devastating blows upon the Hunter's face, effectively leaving him knocked out cold. "Thanks. But I've got this." Dean replied sarcastically, letting Peter drop to the ground before he brutally kicked Peter in the ribs once … twice … three times. "And that's for my brother … you son of a bitch!" Dean growled, looking down upon Peter's bruised and bloody face gleefully.

"You think I'm bad," Dean told the unconscious Hunter as he quickly handcuffed Peter's hands behind his back and tied his legs together to prevent the Hunter's escape. "Just wait until my Dad gets a hold of you!"

Dean gave Peter one more kick for good measure before he reached down, grabbed the Hunter by the hair and dragged his unconscious ass behind him, moving further into the warehouse, searching for both the room told him about and his friend, anxious to find his brother now. "Hold on Sammy, nearly there little brother!"

TBC