AN: To anyone and everyone looking for the significance of the code Sam put into the security box, the reason you couldn't find anything was because I fat-fingered it and typed it wrong. It should be 08121950. Zero at the end, not five. *sigh* I fixed it now.

Jenjoremy, your little request is in here. There's something for printandpolish too...

I run out superlatives for Janice, but she's the speediEST and smartEST and bestEST beta!

* * *

When Dean arrived at the hospital, he was pleased that the police chief had called ahead and he was waved right in and directed to walrus man's hospital room. The guy (Tanner, according to the cops) clearly recognized him, but his glare was ruined by the whole effect: he was wearing a hospital gown and had both a cast and a sling, plus his eyes were glassy with pain or pain meds, and he was handcuffed to the bed, all of which made it difficult for him to look intimidating.

"FBI," Dean said curtly, still pissed that this human being had tried to kill Sam. "We don't care about you. We're after bigger fish. Believe me, Tanner, you want to talk to me."

Tanner literally sneered. "Feds? No wonder –"

"Yes, feds. Your buddy V set you up," Dean interrupted, noting the quickly-concealed surprise on the other man's face. "Yeah, we know all about his 'job' of getting rid of bodies. And we'll find him." He moved closer to the bed so Tanner had to look way up to see his face. "If you are part of the reason we do, you'll get a lot less jail time out of this. If not," he shrugged. "We'll get him anyway, maybe tell your buddies that you ratted and let them deal with you."

"You'd tell them I ratted even if I didn't?" Tanner sounded so offended by the idea that Dean nearly laughed. Beat up strangers? No problem. Dispose of bodies? Whatever. Lie to his buddies? The horror!

Dean smiled and didn't answer.

The gangster sank back, looking defeated. "I can't, man. If he – he's got like a pack of wild animals or somethin'. I've heard 'em." He shivered, his eyes shadowed. "I've heard the screams too."

Dean's phone beeped and he frowned to see it was the police chief. "Hold that thought," he said to Tanner and stepped out to take the call. What he heard caught him up short. He had a brief conversation, asked for some pictures and an address, then hung up with a grim expression on his face. He blew out a breath and called Sam, but it went straight to voicemail, so he dropped Sam a text and called Charlene instead.

"Hey, Charlene. I'm guessing Sam's in a dead zone, but if you see him, could you have him call me?" He hesitated when she asked if everything was okay, then admitted, "There was another attack and it's bad." She'd hear the news soon enough. "None of your people."

Charlene promised to get a message to Sam when she saw him but warned Dean that the castle was full of dead zones and none of the repeaters were on with the family not residence. When they were off the phone, Dean went back into Tanner's room with a grim look on his face. The chief' s pictures had come through while he was on the phone with Charlene, and he pulled the first one up now.

Dean looked down at Tanner and started talking without letting the other man say anything. "An off-duty local cop noticed something odd this morning and went to check on a summer cabin he knows is supposed to be closed this time of year. It's west of town, out toward Mt. Rainier." It was subtle, but Dean caught Tanner's slight reaction. "I see you know it. Well, here's a couple pictures of what he found there." Dean turned his phone around and held it up in Tanner's face.

This time, Tanner's flinch was very obvious, and his face instantly drained of color.

"If you don't like that one, take a look at this one," Dean said harshly, flipping to the next picture. "Or this one. How about this one? Or here?"

By this time, Tanner had turned his face away and scrunched his eyes tightly shut.

The pictures showed pure carnage. As far as Dean could tell, all of their attackers except for the one in front of him and the guy they'd left in the woods had been mauled and torn apart. The chief said there was a woman there too, and Dean's gut said it was the waitress who had revealed their location. There was blood everywhere and body parts strewn in all directions. It was a literal bloodbath.

"This what V does with bodies for you? Not a great job of concealing things. Of course, maybe this is more of a message than anything. Maybe he wanted people to see what happens when they don't bring him the prize he wants. I bet he knows he missed you by now. So maybe we decide not to press charges and just let you walk out the front door and watch to see what happens."

Tanner kept shaking his head, his eyes still closed. "Please, no," he whispered, any and all bravado gone. "You gotta protect me."

"Then you better start talking."

Tanner gave Dean directions for the mysterious "V" and a general physical description: a short man with frizzy white-blond hair and prominent teeth. "It's like the guy has no color in him at all," he claimed. "Even his eyes are just kind of this washed-out blue, you know? But nobody ever gives him shit. They act like he's some big, scary dude." He'd been at the man's place, an isolated old farm without anything planted in any of the fields. And he'd heard the screams of the rivals they'd turned over to the man as they drove away. He hadn't seen the animals V fed people to, but that didn't make him any less terrified.

When Dean had learned all he was going to, he grimly left to head to the crime scene. He wasn't sure he'd find anything, but he had to take a look. He tried to call Sam again on the way but again it went straight to voicemail.

The scene was gruesome, to put it mildly. Even with the bodies removed, the iron smell of blood was everywhere. The chief, looking both ill and pissed, seemed relieved to have the excuse to step outside the crime tape and talk to Dean. He confirmed that the bodies belonged to known gang members from Seattle and to the waitress who was known to be dating one of them.

"We don't even know what did this," he admitted to Dean. "I would say bear, except there had to be more than one of whatever, and I've never heard of bears working together. Wolves would've fled at the gunshots. And bears or wolves would have...well, eaten a lot more." He spread his hands in frustration. "It's almost like somebody trained apex predators to kill, but how the hell do you keep that secret? How do you transport them? Have you ever heard about any gangs using animals for enforcers?!"

He was so frustrated and at sea that Dean felt sorry for him. "We'll get 'em, man," he said, a lot nicer to cops than he'd been when he was younger. (He blamed Sam.) "Nobody can get away with something on this scale for long."

Dean walked the scene – as much as he could without disturbing evidence (which wouldn't help the cops) – and didn't find any EMF or sulfur or other proverbial smoking guns. The bodies were so torn up that the pictures didn't help a lot either. Dean had already secured a promise that the preliminary autopsy reports would be emailed to him, but he wasn't sure there would be much there, either, unless somebody left a tooth or claw behind in a body. The dry ground didn't even have any prints. Still, the ghost of an idea was starting to take root in Dean's mind.

He was about to call it good and get out of there when every cop's radio went off.

911 call from security at Congdon's Castle. Reports of shots fired and an animal attack. At least one dead.

Dean's face drained of blood so fast that only the simultaneous rush of adrenaline kept him upright. He dialed Sam without even thinking.

"Hello, you've reached…"

"Your partner?" the chief asked, clearly having caught Dean's expression. At Dean's tight nod, the man went into action. "Johnson! Take the agent to Congdon's Castle, run code the whole way." To Dean, he explained, "We need to stay here, but my guys who are closer will be out there. Let me know personally if you need anything. I'll tell 'em to give you whatever you need."

Dean nodded again, already heading for Baby. He muttered a quick thanks and called to the cop who was supposed to give him a ride, "I'll follow you. Don't hold back – I can keep up."

They were barely screaming down the road when Dean's phone rang. He answered the phone without looking at it, needing his concentration for the winding roads. "Yeah?"

"Dean, it's Char –"

"Is Sam okay?" Dean interrupted.

"I – we don't know. We don't know where he is. But he's not...the body isn't Sam."

The knot that had been squeezing Dean's chest making it difficult to breathe loosened ever so slightly. "He's missing? I can't get him on the phone," Dean asked, swearing when the phone slid across the seat as he took a turn at 50 miles an hour. Luckily, it slid right back. "Tell me everything."

"I only have a minute because I'm the contact person for the police," she said, a bit apologetically. "Last I knew, Sam was in the main house. About twenty minutes ago, some of our people heard a shot fired. In the master bedroom on the second floor, there was a m-mangled body of a young man that I don't recognize." She took a long breath. "There's a ton of blood, but it seems to me like it all comes from just that man. I don't know. I did see Sam's bag there with a bunch of old books around it. I got it and what I'd guess are Sam's notes out of there before the police got here."

Her voice wobbled by the end, but Dean would be impressed by her calm...once he knew Sam was safe. "Good job," he praised gruffly, appreciating the speed his escort was taking but needing most of his attention to navigate the winding roads at that pace. "Can you do one thing and let me know if Sam's gun is still in his bag?"

"Just a moment." There were the sounds of movement, then Charlene came back. "It's still there."

Shit. Dean didn't voice his disappointment to hear that, just grit his teeth even harder. "Okay. I'll be there in half an hour."

They made it in 23 minutes, which felt more like 23 hours. Dean kept willing his phone to ring, to be either Sam saying he had to hide out to clean bloody clothes or something or Charlene with an update, but neither happened. So Dean spent the entire drive trying to guess what had happened. If Sam left his gun behind, who'd fired the shot? And why? Were they shooting at Sam or at whatever had ultimately killed somebody? Where was Sam? Dragged off to be a snack for later? If he could, he'd contact Dean. There were too many variables and not enough answers...and not nearly enough brother.

Thanks to the lights and sirens, they were waved right through the gates. Dean was struck by déjà vu at the sight of all the emergency vehicles at the castle, but at least this time, he wasn't on the outside looking in. The sight of the coroner's van made his sphincter tighten but he reminded himself that Charlene was positive that the one and only body wasn't Sam.

He jumped out of Baby before her engine stopped ticking but paused before going inside when he noticed Bernard and Cindy each sitting in the back of an ambulance getting oxygen. He thought Cindy had blood on her sweatshirt. Dean waved down the closest cop already on scene. "Those two witnesses or something?" he asked.

Mr. Cop shook his head. "No, no witnesses. The guy fainted when he saw the scene. It's pretty bad. The lady's dog apparently rolled in the blood and freaked her out good. And she's upset that CSI's keeping the dog until they make sure it's only the dead guy's blood on it. Hey, your partner is the one who's missing?"

"Yeah," was all Dean said. "Thanks." He followed the cop who'd led him there inside and up the stairs.

Charlene met him, her face pinched and stressed. She came put a hand on his arm, and he guessed she would have hugged him if there weren't so many people around. "Dean," she said in a low voice. "Sam's bag is in my office because they're searching the entire castle. I didn't look through it, but I did put his notes inside and check if his phone was in there. It's not."

"Why don't you go to your office?" he asked, feeling for her even in the midst of his fear for Sam. "I'll find you there after I look things over here."

Charlene nodded jerkily. "Okay. I don't care what anyone says: I'm getting my people out of here until this is all over, but I'll stick around. Listen, I'm worried that my boss will pull us all out or that the castle owners will kick everyone out. I'll let you know, but if either happens, I won't have a choice."

"I understand." Both scenarios sounded pretty good to Dean. Fewer civilians meant hopefully fewer casualties and easier hunting at the same time. He patted Charlene's shoulder and headed for the hub of all the activity.

The master bedroom suite was a bloodbath, similar to but smaller than the one Dean had left to come back to the castle. (Something had covered a lot of distance, then outsmarted security again.) Despite the carnage, Dean easily recognized Jason before they got him packed up.

How had Jason found Sam? There was a gun near him, so he had probably fired the shot, but there was nothing that stood out to Dean that told him anything new, except for the fact that there were books scattered next to the tipped-over desk.

In the corner of the room, cowering in the back of a cage, was Cindy's Chloe. Dean narrowed his eyes at her. She'd been drawn to the other crime scene on the castle grounds, too. Could she detect what it was they were after? And could she find it/them before they perpetuated any more violence?

It took some doing, but Dean convinced the lead investigator to let him take the dog after they swabbed a bunch of the blood from its fur. One of the groundskeepers even took her outside, hosed her off, and gave her back to Dean wrapped in a towel.

"Listen, Chloe," Dean started, then noticed her tag.

Lady Kolasi "Chloe" Alcestis

of Avernus Breeders

If Found Please Call

The name "Kolasi" reminded Dean of something but he couldn't be sure what. Mentally shrugging, Dean went back to instructing the puppy before she went to sleep in his arms, something that seemed to be close to happening now that she was warm and felt safe. "You remember Sam? Big, tall guy with too much hair. You liked him. I can't find him and I'm wondering if you can. See –"

Dean's phone rang and interrupted him. "Yeah?"

It was Charlene. "Dean, I don't know what's wrong with me, but Sam used the tunnels to get into the house. You think he's back in the tunnels? I'm sure there's no service in there. You can get into them from the building my office is in."

"Tunnels? Damn, that must be it!"

"I'm so sorry I didn't even think of it once I saw...that."

Dean was so worried he didn't have the capacity to get angry. "Don't worry about it. I'll be right there." He hung up and looked at the puppy. "You're off the hook," he told her. "But man, no more rolling in blood or following supernatural whatevers around or you're going to end up somebody's appetizer."

He hurried around the side of the castle and found a very subdued-looking Cindy leaning against a tall, slender man who must be her husband. "Here's your dog," he said brusquely.

Well, that started the tears flowing, and her husband had to shake Dean's hand repeatedly. Worse, Bernard was nearby too watching everything with wide eyes, looking at Dean like he'd cured cancer. He (literally) latched on Dean's arm as soon as Dean had extracted himself from the grateful dog owners. He clearly had no idea how much of a hurry Dean was in and how close he came to being just bowled over so Dean could get to his brother faster.

"Is it true? You're a secret FBI agent?" Bernard breathed.

Sam will get angry if I throw him in the koi pond, Dean reminded himself. He tugged at his arm. "Yes, and I have to go right now. Sam's missing."

It worked like a charm. Sort of. Bernard let go of Dean's arm, only to clap his hands to his face and give a Nathan Lane-worthy scream of horror, which of course made everyone look at them. "No!" he gasped, literally clutching his own cheeks. The dramatics tipped Dean over the edge. With a smile that was probably a little frightening, he leaned right in Bernard's face, a fistful of maroon velvet lapel holding the small man from backing away.

"You know what, Bernie? I'm freaking out too. Sam is my – he's like my brother. But do you see me making a whole scene? No. And you know why? Because that won't help me find him. And I am going to find him. You want your moment? You can have it. Or you can help find him." Dean let go, rather proud of himself for keeping his voice so quiet. Bernard simply stared at him, mouth hanging open. He didn't even blink.

A cop ran up to Dean. "Agent! There you are! Chief said to keep you updated. So, we just found a local farmer inside, name of Olson. He's headed to the hospital but gave a quick statement. Says last night, he saw the, uh, victim walking down the road and gave him a ride. This morning, he pulled a gun and made Olson drive him here. Olson's acquaintances with the castle family, so security let him in. The dead guy forced Olson to show him where the master bedroom was then pistol-whipped him and stuck him in a closet."

"Any word about my br – partner?"

"No, sir."

Dean nodded, all of the delays bringing his simmering stress to a near boil. None of it helped. "Thanks, officer," he managed. When the guy had jogged off, Dean realized that Bernard hadn't moved. He wondered if someone needed to unplug him and plug him back in, but it wasn't going to be him. Then, Bernard blinked like he was waking up.

"I'll help!" he announced and took off in the other direction.

Dean didn't care if Bernard danced naked on the roof, as long as he wasn't delaying him one more second. Finally, he got to the building he needed. Charlene was waiting for him and hastily brought him down to a control panel.

"I don't know how he got in," she despaired, but Dean knew just what to punch in.

"08121950," he said aloud as he punched it in. Bobby's birthday. The door slid right open. It was their default code whenever such a thing was needed so they would both know it without having to think about it.

"There are tons of tunnels," Charlene reported worriedly. "It will take us forever."

"You go right at every fork until you come to the end of one hall, then backtrack to the last fork and move one to the left, and so forth," Dean directed, too worried about Sam to turn down her unspoken offer to help. "I'm doing the same thing to the left. Whistle loud if you find any sign of anything."

They started off without another word, though the tunnel went straight for quite a while. When it finally forked, they set off. It was all clean and well-lit, but Charlene was right. There was an entire warren of tunnels here. Dean searched quickly, occasionally calling for his brother. Tunnel after tunnel of nothing.

He'd probably been looking for twenty minutes when he was backtracking to the main tunnel and heard a commotion. He sped up and found Charlene wrangling one of the most motley crews he'd ever seen, Bernard at the head.

Behind the designer were: Cindy and her husband with Chloe in tow, Linda and three other lunch ladies, a maintenance guy Sam had chatted with while they were waiting to get inside the castle grounds the very first day, and even…

"Penny?! What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked, actually wondering the same thing about everyone. Was the universe conspiring to keep him from finding Sam or something?

"Dave was watchin' me when the 9-11 call came. He took me along to keep me safe," the man explained. "Bernard here says you need help."

"We can all help you find Sam," Linda piped up, still wearing her hairnet.

While Dean was still processing this, Charlene seemed to transform. In mere minutes, she had a whole system organized to systematically search the tunnels, right down to a signal meaning "find Dean and get him over here." It was...impressive. Actually, Bernard's whole, helpful little mob was rather impressive.

"Uh. Thanks," Dean said, hoping it was enough, then hurried back to searching.

He hadn't gone far when he heard Penny bellow, "DEAN! COME HERE NOW! CINDY'S DOG FOUND SOMETHIN'! LINDA! GET THE PARAMEDICS!"

Dean took off at a dead run. He found Penny herding everyone back from a door hidden in the wall of the tunnel and Charlene checking the pulse of a very familiar-looking body while Chloe barked her little head off.

Dean ignored them all and landed on his knees next to Sam who had was – thank yippy little dogs and weird armies of searchers – breathing, but not easily. "Hey, hey, Sammy," he said, putting a hand on Sam's face. To his everlasting relief, Sam's eyelids fluttered. His lips formed Dean's name but no sound escaped. "Yeah, it's me, buddy. You're alright, you hear me?"

There was a spatter of dark blood halfway up the stairs behind Sam that said he was not alright, as did the clearly blind eyes staring up and the uncoordinated twitches of Sam's hands. Dean swallowed hard, feeling sick. He could see that this was bad. "Sam? Say something. Let me know you're in there, huh?"

Sam's lips moved again. Dean had to lean close to hear him. "Alone? No, we're not alone." He didn't know why that would matter, but Sam wasn't done.

Dean turned so his ear was almost touching Sam's mouth. "Juliet? I don't understand," he admitted desperately. Where the hell were those paramedics? They were already on site!

"B-brussel sprouts," Sam whispered a little louder. Then, "Memphis."

"Memphis? What are you saying?" Dean asked as somebody above his head reported that Sam was showing evidence of confusion. But Sam was done saying anything. His eyes slid closed as a paramedic knelt next to Dean and began to check vital signs and another tried to shoo everyone away from Sam.

Dean, of course, would not be shooed. At least not until they were moving Sam to the ambulance with his feet dangling off the end of the stretcher. While they were hooking Sam up to every piece of equipment they had (or so it seemed), Dean made a quick call, struggling to dial with his eyes swimming with tears. He got voicemail.

"Cas, get your ass to Yakima, Washington. The hospital is, uh –" Somebody nearby recited its name and address, and Dean parroted them to the angel's voicemail. "Get here. It's Sam and it's an emergency."

Against his better judgment, he tried Crowley next, but the demon didn't answer either, and his voicemail was full. Somebody put a handkerchief in Dean's hand, and he angrily wiped away the one tear that had fallen. Who else...oh.

"Hello?"

"Barb. It's Dean. Write down this number." He recited Cas' cell number. "Call it until Cas answers and tell him to meet me at the hospital in Yakima, Washington right fucking now. I left the address on his voicemail. It's an emergency."

"Sir, are you riding along? We need to leave," announced one of the paramedics.

"I gotta go." Dean hung up the phone and set his jaw. "Hell, yeah, I'm coming. He won't dare die with me keeping watch."

If only that were true.

* * *

AN: Oops. I dropped an f-bomb. It just felt like it fit!

Timelady66: Yup, beat him up pretty good this time. Don't worry, the worse they get hurt, typically the more comfort/schmoop there is. Barb would definitely be mad at me! Sam is on his way to the hospital and it seems like Cas and/or Crowley might show up, so we'll get our boy fixed up one way or another.

Colby's girl: It's a really bad habit of mine to beat the crap out of poor Sam in particular. I really didn't mean for this story to get so violent! I love smart Sam. I'm so glad you found the dialogue helpful and not boring. Thank you so much! Also, I'm not sad that Jason became a snack either. He started out as whiny and wimpy, but he turned into a psycho. Definitely a bully with "small-man syndrome." You have no idea how much I smiled to hear that you are excited for more stories. I have this fear that people are getting sick of them. Fact is, I'll keep writing even if nobody's reading, but it's a whole lot more fun to have readers taking the ride with me.

Jenjoremy: Yeah, I messed up the code. Stupid fat fingers! I fixed it in chapter 7 now. I would have left it in and made Dean work extra hard to find him but then Janice pointed out that Sam entered it in more than once. And he's a lot less likely to make that mistake than I am. No, not the worst cliffhanger ever. Didn't I leave Sam hanging from the ceiling with mothmen closing in once? LOL. Hey...recognize something here? Like...right at the end of the chapter?

muffinroo: Bwahahaha! You think Jason was a little too sour to eat? I made Dean angst through this whole chapter, and maybe more to come. No comfort yet, but you know I love the schmoop so it's coming. Of course, Vaughn and his pets are still out there.

Christine: I loved the Nathan Lane scream so much that I had to include it! I also gave Bernard a little bigger role. I think some of your questions were answered here, but certainly not all. More to come soon!

Long live BRUCAS: I know...there's a lot going on in this one! At least Dean has found Sam now, though things aren't exactly good. Thanks for reading!

Kathy: There will be more about how Jason and the monsters got where they ended up. (Wow, that was a very convoluted sentence!) good questions, though! Poor, poor Sam. The only good news is that Dean found him and he's headed to the hospital.